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From: rick@blkbox.com (Rick Jones)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [TT] Building The Perfect Boat - Prelude
Date: 20 Jan 1995 02:11:46 GMT
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[ADMIN: The Astral Dancer and her crew are all Copyright 1994 by Rick
Jones.  Other APDI characters, are copyright their respective authors.
Permission is granted for the distribution of this story on the usual
alt-net channels and for archival but all other rights, including
repost, are reserved to the author.  All rights reserved, all wrongs
revenged.]

Sometime "later that day"...

Drake looked out over the sea, watching the moons rise.  As he watched,
the third moon, Tertius began to retreat across the sky, then start
forward again.  He looked back at the senior crew, who were looking at
him for answers.

"We all know that there's a problem with time occuring.  Most of the
crew have seen things or met people that either happened in the past,
or, we presume, the future.  The question is: what can we do about it?
I have asked 'Raelf to look into this, as he is somewhat experienced in
matters of Time."

A small swarm of dragonettes preceded Leah's arrival onto the balcony
the Astral Dancer crew had co-opted as a meeting hall.  "I'm afraid
'Raelf's not around right now.  He will have told me about your
request, so Spark and I have going to look into it." She scritched one
of the dragonettes under its chin.  It purred quietly at her touch.
She leaned back against the rail of the balcony.  "Part of the problem
is the wormhole you fell through.  It's not like the other ones we've
charted.  It's not just leaking matter into Nexus from your dimension.
It's leaking large amounts of Time."

Kestrel leaned forward, "Leah, dear.  How can time leak?"

Leah shrugged and smiled wryly.  "If you've got a century or so to
study Time, with advanced work in cross-dimensional singularities, I'd
be happy to discuss it, but none of you have the right kind of math.
It's because time and space are the same thing and the space from your
dimension is leaking through."

"So," Kestrel said, "then how can space leak?"

Leah sighed.  "It comes along with the matter, but more so in this case
than is usual.  Enough to cause a problem."

Ironforge sipped on the mug of beer he was nursing.  "Well, what's the
solution then?"

Drake interjected, "and what are the effects of leaking Time?"

Leah let her dragonette loose, where it joined the pattern of its
brothers and sisters flying around her.  "For you people, it will be
bad at first.  The troubles you have been having will get worse.  The
house computer shows you are gradually shifting back and forth.  The
group of you seems to be along colinear tracks, and if you remain
together, your insulation, as it were, will keep you moving along in
roughly the same track.  However, we will intelligible unrapidly
become."  Drake blinked owlishly at her.  She blinked back at him and
comprehension dawned.

"Oh, pooh.  I was trying to ride along on your sigma field for this
conversation.  'Raelf gave it to Spark, and he gave it to me so I could
keep myself on track.  That was a minor time burp."  She continued.

"There's an artifact buried under, or over,  the Plaza of Shimmering
Steel we call 'the Thing' that is designed to keep Nexus' somewhat
unstable timesteam in the groove.  However, the more time that gets
leaked in from your dimension, the more unstable it will get.  By our
calculations, in a century or so, causality will go right out the
window." Drake and Ironforge looked amazed, the rest of their
expressions varied from confused to shocked.  Leah paused, taking note
of their faces, and went on.  "Take this example, there's the old
paradox of 'what came first, the chicken or the egg?' A chicken comes
from an egg, an egg from a chicken.  If our calculations are correct,
then that essential relationship between the chicken and the egg will
break down."

Kestrel grinned, "either way, sounds like lunch to me."  Kiba shot him
a withering glare, while Drake scratched his beard meditatively.  "So,
since your guys seem to have it scoped out, what can we do to help
you?"

Spark walked through the door, dressed somewhat formally for him: a
black overcoat over jeans and a tee shirt with the logo 'Model 66-The
Movie' on it. "Actually, it's going to be the other way around.  We're
already too linked with this time track to be of much good.  The actual
dirty work will have to be done by you all, since you have yet to
acclimatize to this place."

Ironforge harrumphed.  "Figures. You 'kan seem to be the only ones who
understand it, but we have to do it."

Another Ironforge walked out onto the balcony, stuffing a rolled up
scroll into his pocket.  "Not exactly."  Considering what they had been
through, it was a statement to their adaptability that nobody boggled
too much.  "Spark here is going to take you off to a parallel dimension
where you will go through ten years subjective in Applied Time
Mechanics at a branch of the Traveller's College, and then pick you up
once school is out.  Not enough so I'll be able to pop around like they
tell me 'Raelf does.  But enough so we can get the second ship ready
for the beating it's going to take.  And to close the wormhole."

He opened his pouch, revealing a group of silver bracelets. "These are
standard communicators, with a temporal stabilizing field, so we will
stop running into ourselves like this."  He handed the pouch to Drake.
"There's enough for all of the crew.  Don't put 'em on until after the
one me leaves, though."

The first Ironforge put down his beer, and got up to look at the
devices.  "Let me see."

"Nope," said the second.  "I had to invent 'em the hard way, so will
you.  Now git."

The first Ironforge looked around.  "Well, I'll be back."  He quickly
left with Spark.

The second Ironforge sat down in his place, picked up the beer, and
took a sip.  "Good as I remember it.  Now, if you'll gather 'round.  We
have a ship to build."  He pulled a crystal from his toolbelt, and a
tracework of light appeared in front of them.  "We'll need a bit of
help, though."


--
Rick Jones              You seek meaning? Then listen
rick@blkbox.com         to the music, not the song.
Meyrick@aol.com	            -Kosh, Babylon 5