"October 24, 1991" by David C. Hall a.k.a. Nomad of NoradCopyright 1991, 1993 by Captain Stoneman sat watching "Wheel of Fortune" on flatscreen, the paper-thin holographic image hovering in the air before him. Such a popular program in Timeline Two, but Stoneman couldn't really understand what they saw in it. He wandered over to the window and stared out into the spacedock at his ship, overhaul just completed. Since material had started being brought in from the other timeline, where the people knew not of the existence of this other universe, how much had that other culture influenced his own ancient- Greek descended culture? Even to the point of the class of starship that Stoneman's ship belonged to being named for a visionary from there, a man who had not actually performed any great deeds, merely imagined great things. A great many flatscreen "television" and "satellite" stations were being pulled in from the Companion Earth, not just their entertainment, but everything from news and information stations to some kind of 24-hour shopping channels. People all across the galaxy were endlessly fascinated with this stuff. And Stoneman's people were importing from that timeline their motion pictures, their literature, music and art. Under this onslaught, would much semblance of the Greek, Egyptian and Chinese cultures remain for long, the civilizations that had taken them to the stars centuries ago? Since long ago, when someone had a major change in his life, he would change his name to commemorate this, pick a name dirived from what the event represented. Only now, many people instead selected names for themselves from Companion Earth fiction and art, rather than from their own culture. It was all so... artificial. Yet it had been an artificial impetus that had sent them to the stars to begin with. Unknown aliens had shown them the way. So, how could he find fault? They never discovered which race it had been, or even if it was one of the races they had encountered since, but twenty-four centuries ago, these anonymous aliens had sent them a teaching machine. It showed them, step by step, how to go from bronze-age to starfaring. And it was interesting to compare the history of the two timelines in the early centuries after this. In the other universe, the Romans had come to rule the Earth, while here the Greeks dominated. Captain Stoneman could see his crew in dress uniform now gathering in the large chamber across the spacedock from him, preparing for the official launching of the ship. It was time to join them. He turned, shut off the display, and exited the room. * * * "The people of the Companion Earth," said Admiral Demetrius Barnabas, "a people still planetbound, have imagined a glorious future for themselves. They imagine themselves making great journeys through deep space. They create visions of what might be, visions of other worlds, of other races and other cultures, of planets where they come to live, of worlds they build for themselves, of the things that they find out there. "And yet we have been living that dream for centuries. They merely imagine such voyages across their galaxy, voyages they will not make for at least another century. We live now that which they will not live to see themselves. "So now we stand here ready to launch this new vessel. We stand ready to push the edge of our space frontier, waiting to -- as they say -- go where no one has gone before, within the actual lifetime of the man who created that phrase, a man whose vision has caused a great polarization on his world towards the idea of space travel." With that, the admiral paused a moment, staring at a spot in the floor a couple of spans in front of him. "And yet, it is truly ironic..." he faced the ship, "this ship, for which this class of starship has been named, and is now just uprated and modernized, is poised for a whole new era in space." He paused again. "Perhaps you have heard, and perhaps you have not, but on CNN they have just announced..." He fell silent, his eyes saddened. "They've just stated that Gene Roddenberry is dead. He was seventy years old." The admiral's gaze drifted over the crewmen, and came to rest a long moment on the ship. "Let us hope that this class of starship is around for at least as long as its namesake lived, and that the legacy shall outlive mankind. "Let us hope his own legacy lasts as long, in both Timelines." * -------------------------------------------------------------- * |