Original subtitles

Captain's Log, Stardate 45959.1.

The Enterprise has been recalled

to Sector 001 on a priority mission.

All we've been told is that evidence has been discovered

indicating the presence of extraterrestrials on Earth

five centuries ago.

Work crews were down here installing seismic regulators

when they found some remarkable artifacts.

And it's been determined that they date back

to the late 19th century?

Yes.

Ahh.

DATA: The bifocal visual aid

is typical of the era.

The weapon is a .45 caliber double-action cavalry pistol

invented by Colt Firearms

in 1873.

Here, look inside the watch.

PICARD: Hmm.

What makes you think that extraterrestrials

are related to these discoveries?

The crew was having a problem with the regulators.

Something inside the cavern was

interfering with the phase conditioners.

It turned out to be the cavern itself.

The composition of the rock face

has been altered by exposure to triolic waves.

Which you're not going to find on Earth

in either the 19th or 24th century.

Triolic waves?

The by-product of an energy source

employed by very few species

because of its deleterious effect on living tissue.

We've confirmed that no one has been

in or out of this cavern in centuries.

So we're left with a 500-year-old mystery.

I'm curious, Doctor.

There are far greater experts on Earth

to investigate your mystery.

Why bring the Enterprise all the way home?

As we continued our excavation,

we found one other thing I haven't shown you yet.

We've tried to leave everything as we found it.

(fabric rustles)

Space, the final frontier.

These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise.

Its continuing mission...

to explore strange new worlds...

to seek out new life and new civilizations...

to boldly go where no one has gone before.

Captain's Log, Stardate 45960.2.

We have transported the materials

discovered in the cavern back to the ship for analysis.

I wish I could be as dispassionate

about the implications as my second officer.

DATA: Interesting.

There is a 12% decomposition of bitanium

in the neural pathway links.

That suggests that the alloys are vulnerable...

Data, how can you look inside that...

analyze the decomposition

without...?

Emotion, sir? Yes.

I am simply trying to make an objective assessment.

Data, is this yours?

I believe so, sir.

Could it be Lore?

No, sir. My brother's positronic brain has

a Type-L phase- discriminating amplifier.

Mine is a Type-R.

Type R? Yes, sir.

Can you predict how long this has been in the cavern?

Decomposition strongly indicates

that life was terminated approximately 500 years ago.

That would be consistent with

the other artifacts we recovered.

Your head is not an artifact.

In relative terms, perhaps not.

Nevertheless, it seems clear that

that my life is to end in the late 19th century.

Not if we can help it.

There is no way anyone can prevent it, sir.

At some future date, I will be transported

back to 19th-century Earth, where I will die.

It has occurred.

It will occur.

LA FORGE: Well, I can't tell you exactly

who the aliens were, but I have found out

a few things.

The triolicized rock face tells us

that we're probably dealing with a species

with microcentrum cell membranes.

Triolic waves wouldn't harm them.

It also might mean they're shape-shifters of some kind.

So they could have appeared on Earth as humans.

I don't think it's anybody we've ever run into before.

Nothing we've found matches up with any known life-forms.

What does match up

is a cellular fossil

which might have been along just for the ride.

A cellular fossil?

A microscopic ciliated life-form,

not unlike a thousand other single cell life-forms

you'd find on any planet surface.

Except this particular one

is LB10445,

and LB10445 is only known to exist on one place...

Devidia Two in the Marrab sector.

Number One, lay in a course.

On my way.

So, do you want to talk about it?

Are you referring to the foreknowledge

of my death?

Yeah.

I have no particular desire to discuss the matter.

Do you need to talk about it?

Yeah. Ahh. Why?

Data, this has got to bother you a little.

On the contrary, I find it rather comforting.

Comforting?

I have often wondered about my own mortality

as I have seen others around me age.

Until now, it has been theoretically possible

that I would live an unlimited period of time,

and although some might find this attractive,

to me it only reinforces the fact

that I am... artificial.

I never knew how tough this must be for you.

Tough? As in difficult?

Knowing that you would outlive all your friends.

I expected to make new friends.

True.

And then to outlive them as well.

Now that you know that you might not?

It provides a sense of completion to my future.

In a way, I am not that different

from anyone else.

I can now look forward to death.

I never thought of it that way.

One might also conclude

that it brings me one step closer to being human.

I am mortal.

PICARD: Picard to bridge officers.

We're approaching the Devidia system.

Report to your stations.

I'll see you later. Let's get together

for a game of chess or something, okay?

That sounded like a very intense discussion.

Yeah...

they found Data's head a mile beneath San Francisco.

Been down there about five centuries.

That's why the Enterprise is being sent back to Earth.

I didn't realize.

Something, isn't it?

He seems fine about it.

Better than I am.

Well, I'd better get to Engineering.

Full circle.

Hmm.

I heard about Data.

Yeah.

It's having an unusually traumatic effect on everyone.

Yeah.

If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay.

I'm fine, I'm just...

Angry. I'm not angry.

Yeah, I'm angry.

Why should I be angry?

Maybe because it reminds us of our own mortality.

I just don't want to believe it.

Have you ever heard Data define friendship?

No.

How did he put it?

(imitating Data): As I experience certain

sensory input patterns, my mental pathways

become accustomed to them.

The inputs eventually are anticipated

and even missed when absent.

So what's the point?

He's used to us,

and we're used to him.

It's like finding out someone you love

has a terminal illness...

Data.

Counselor. Commander.

Would either of you mind if I made a personal inquiry?

Personal inquiry? No, go right ahead.

I am perceiving an apparent change

in the way others behave toward me.

For example,

people abruptly end conversations

when I appear, just as you did

when the turbolift doors opened.

Is that an accurate observation?

Not at all... Yes.

Yes.

You're right, Data.

And it's not a very nice thing to do.

It's just that our mental pathways

have become accustomed

to your sensory input patterns.

Hmm. I understand.

I am also fond of you, Commander,

and you as well, Counselor.

We're in orbit.

Any sign of life?

WORF: Negative, sir.

Captain, sensors are picking up

an unusual temporal disturbance

on a small area of the planet's surface.

42 degrees...

seven minutes north by 88 degrees,

declination east.

Temporal disturbance?

Put us in the standard orbit above those coordinates.

Spectral analysis shows a high level of triolic waves

emanating from the same location.

Any correlation with the readings

we received from Earth?

Affirmative, sir. The magnetic signature

is identical to the one found in the cavern.

Could those triolic waves be dangerous for humanoids?

Only with long-term exposure, sir.

There is no immediate threat.

Take an away team.

Worf, Geordi, Troi,

join me in Transporter Room Three

for an away team.

Commander? Mr. Data.

I'll need your help to monitor the sensor readings

during this investigation.

Captain...

may I speak to you alone?

Sir, it is standard procedure

that the second officer accompany the away team.

Yes, yes, Mr. Data, I am aware of that.

Then I must assume your decision is related

to the discovery on Earth...

I think it is reasonable

to take precautions.

Captain...

there is no rational justification for this course.

Then I'll be irrational.

It is possible, sir,

that the events leading to my death

will not occur for years, even centuries.

I hope that's true, Mr. Data.

Nevertheless, this investigation

began with your death.

I'm simply trying to see that it doesn't end that way.

I appreciate your concern, Captain,

but to employ an aphorism, one cannot "cheat fate."

Cheat fate?

(sighs deeply)

Perhaps we can't, Mr. Data,

but at least we can give it a try.

Hmm...

The concentration of triolic waves

falls off about here.

Mm-hmm.

It increases exponentially the closer in we go.

What's the source... something underground?

Negative, Commander.

What's the explanation?

I don't have one yet.

La Forge to Enterprise.

DATA: Go ahead.

Data, run a spectral field

correlation for me, let's find out if

these triolic readings are in any way related

to the temporal distortions.

Acknowledged.

Deanna?

There's life here.

A child...

an old woman...

dozens more, hundreds.

Terrified.

Terrified?

My God, Will, they're human.

RIKER: Whatever they are,

Troi's convinced they're human.

They may be trapped somehow.

We're not sure.

Captain, the results

of my temporal analysis may be pertinent.

Go ahead.

Geordi, it indicates a synchronic distortion

in the areas emanating triolic waves.

Well, that explains a few things... how much, Data?

A positive displacement of .004%.

Well, whatever or whoever is there,

we're out of phase with it but we're only talking

by a fraction of a second.

A fraction of a second would make them invisible?

A millisecond, a year... it wouldn't make any difference.

If what we're reading is true,

then we're occupying the same space

but in a different time.

How do we compensate?

DATA: Commander, we might be able

to manipulate the synchronic distortion.

LA FORGE: Maybe, if we were

to create a contained subspace force field.

But to get a .004 variance,

we'd need an incredibly sensitive

phase discriminator, Data.

I don't think we have one that would

even come close.

Yes, we do. It is built into

my positronic decompiler.

It will be necessary for me to join

the away team, sir.

Proceed, Mr. Data.

Mr. Data.

Sir.

Let me give you a hand with that, Data.

Once I have adjusted the force field,

I will no longer be visible, Commander.

I have taken steps, however, to ensure

that you will still be able to hear me.

If you will assist me in a test of the com system.

My voice will be transmitted

on a delay correlated to the phase adjustment.

That should allow me to maintain verbal contact.

Will we be able to talk to you?

No, sir, that will not be possible.

The subspace field has been established.

You're set to go, Data.

Adjusting the synchronic distortion.

.001...

.002.

.003...

.004.

DATA (distorted): I have made visual contact.

There are life-forms here.

They are either unaware of me

or choosing to ignore me.

I am moving approximately ten meters north

of my starting position to observe more closely.

They range from two to three meters in height,

silver-gray in color.

They have four limbs.

No eyes or ears are noticeable.

There is a single orifice where a humanoid forehead

would ordinarily be.

They are reclined against the rock face,

surrounding an apparatus of some sort

approximately 1.5 meters in height.

It is releasing what appear to be energy fragments

which are then ingested by the entities

through the orifice,

perhaps some sort of nourishment.

The upper portion of the apparatus

seems to be a holding facility for the energy segments.

There are hundreds, perhaps thousands

of these fragments inside.

I have resumed a northerly direction.

There is no evidence yet of humans.

Okay, that's enough, Data, come on back now.

I have encountered another life-form...

an ophidian.

It seems to be restricted by a force field.

Two of the silver-gray entities are approaching it.

They have released the force field.

(explosion)

I am reading a temporal distortion...

of... mass... ...ortions...

the ophidian is...

...ime-space continuum...

...caught in the after effect...

...I am attempting...

Data!

RIKER: Over here.

PICARD: Commander Riker, report.

We've lost him.

(voices murmuring)

Excuse me.

Uh, pardon me.

I am searching for two individuals

with an ophidian.

A snake.

(laughing)

Frenchmen!

Hmm.

Could you help out a '49er?

I-I-I fell down a shaft.

I got blown up in a tunnel.

That is unfortunate.

It is most unfortunate.

I require large amounts of whiskey as a liniment.

I am sorry, but I have no whiskey to give you.

I'll take a dime.

I am sorry, but I have no form of legal tender.

Oh. We're in the same boat, huh?

Well, this is my street.

You'll have to go find one of your own.

I would be happy to do so,

but I am presently in search of information.

Oh.

Stockbrokers are cheap as hell.

Don't even bother to ask.

Your best handout

is from a young fella with his lady.

You give him a chance to show her he's generous.

Steer clear of sailors.

Most likely, you'll get a...

fist across your jaw for your trouble.

Thank you for your advice,

but I am trying to find

two individuals with a snake.

A snake?

You are an odd fellow, aren't you?

But just don't be too particular

where you get your funds from.

(hacking cough)

You are in need of medical attention.

I will get a doctor.

No, no, no. It's too late for that.

Oh!

Could you help out a '49er?

(sighing)

Thanks.

Hey, put it on Gentleman Jim.

Knockout in the fifth.

MAN: All right.

Sir, I need temporary lodging.

Looks like the missus booted you out

in the middle of the night.

Ahh, I understand the source of your misperception.

However, this is not sleepwear,

and I do not have a missus.

Well...

I am a Frenchman.

Oh, well, everybody's from somewhere.

Now, that doesn't matter at this hotel.

It's six bits a day or four dollars a week.

I have no money.

Well, now that matters.

But I am capable of performing

significant tasks

both mental and physical.

Perhaps your hotel would offer me a job.

Geez, I don't know.

We're pretty happy with the maid we've got.

The cook's decent.

The dishwasher's drunk all day...

but at least he gets here on time...

and, uh, there's me.

I do everything else around here.

Sorry.

Lady luck not with you tonight, Mr. Lane?

Poor fella.

Hasn't filled a straight in five weeks.

Poker?

Fold.

Me, too.

Go to blazes.

(chortling)

A poker face carved in marble.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

What in hell do you want?

I would like to join the game.

Pale face.

Ahh, I don't like Easterners, personally.

I am a Frenchman.

Ah, mes parents sont

originaires de Bourgogne.

Je suis ne a la New Orleans.

Alors, nous sommes presque freres.

Je suis heureux de vous connaitre.

(laughing)

Please, sir.

The game is poker. The deal is yours.

The ante is four bits.

Family heirloom?

In a manner of speaking.

It is a crystalline composite of silicon,

beryllium, carbon 70, and...

Gold. Gold.

I'll give you three dollars for it.

I accept.

Did you see the looks on their faces?

I did everything I could not to laugh.

To whom are you referring?

Frederick La Rouque and Joe Falling Hawk.

Those guys are card sharks.

Sure, they, uh, play easy at first,

not to scare off the marks,

but, you give them a little time,

they'll bleed a man dry.

Especially a, uh,

out-of-towner like yourself.

What was the source of your jocular reaction?

What was it you found humorous?

Oh, don't you see?

They had you pegged for a sap.

The clothes you got on, the way you talk...

it's like you were born yesterday.

You sure fooled them though.

It was not my intention to deceive.

Well, have it your way.

This is the place.

Uh, breakfast is 6:00 to 8:00.

Check-out's at noon when you're ready to leave.

Thank you.

It has been a pleasure.

Ahem!

It would be advisable to monitor that cough.

I have read that there is currently

a cholera epidemic in San Francisco.

Never felt better.

(coughing)

Of course. The gratuity.

Thank you for your assistance.

A dollar?

If there's anything you need...

it can get lonely in San Francisco.

You might want some company.

I can introduce you to... Lillian.

I have no need for companionship.

However, I do require some supplies.

Anything you need... I can get it for you wholesale.

I can get it for you less than wholesale

if you don't ask me where it came from.

What do you need all this stuff for?

I am an inventor.

No kidding.

Well, this stuff's going to take awhile.

I'll have to go clear across town.

And it's not going to be cheap.

Will this be enough?

More than enough.

You may retain the surplus for yourself.

Keep the change?

Exactly.

Done.

Help out a '49er...

Fell down...

a shaft.

'49er...

help me.

(wheezing)

Help me out.

No...

No!

Captain's Log, supplemental.

Close-range sensor analysis

has yielded no further trace of Commander Data.

Despite the emotional repercussions among my crew,

I must move this mission forward.

I'm not willing to accept that he's dead

and just leave it at that.

We cannot make Mr. Data our priority.

What is more important than Data?

Look at what we have so far...

evidence that these aliens

have been traveling in time to Earth.

What if they're trying to undermine

our history for some reason?

Some kind of guerrilla war?

We must assume that there is a threat.

If not to us, then to 19th-century Earth.

We have to determine what that threat may be.

Mr. La Forge, we have to find some way

to communicate with these life-forms.

It's not going to be easy to reproduce what Data did.

We can create a contained subspace field,

but we'd need an extraordinarily

sensitive phase discriminator to get

that .004 variance.

Can you build one?

(sighs)

Won't be as good as Data's.

Will it be good enough?

I don't know. I can try.

It's gonna take some time, though.

I don't want anyone else going in alone.

I can probably create a large enough

subspace field to encompass everyone.

But adjusting the phase inside the field,

that's gonna be the hard part.

Make it so.

We have to assume one thing, sir.

Wherever Data may be,

he's doing the same thing we are,

which is trying to get to the bottom of this.

He may have a better idea about what's going on than we do.

So it might be in the best interest

of this mission to find him.

Perhaps in the course of this investigation we will.

I hope so.

If we find Commander Data,

it may be our fate to die with him in the past.

If our remains are in that cavern,

they would have turned to dust long ago.

(door opens, closes)

PICARD: I'm afraid to interrupt.

Captain...

you didn't have to come all the way down here.

I would have been more than happy

to have come up to you.

And miss all this?

I haven't seen such a complex operation

since the Academy lab final in exochemistry.

It's a Tzartak aperitif.

It's very, very touchy.

The trick is to change the evaporation point

of the main ingredient.

You want the temperature where the liquid goes to vapor

to be a half a degree below

the body temperature of the customer.

That way,

when the liquid touches the tongue,

it evaporates, and the flavor is

carried entirely by the vapor.

A few molecules off,

the vapor point crashes, and poof... it's all gone.

All of it.

What is it you wanted to see me about?

I hear you're sending an away team

down to the surface.

Uh-huh.

Are you going?

Well, now, this is rather unusual.

For you to be curious about an away mission.

Maybe it's an unusual away mission.

If you have something to say, I'm listening.

Starfleet captains don't usually accompany away teams.

It's general policy.

This time you have to.

Why?

You just do.

Do you remember the first time we met?

Of course.

Don't be so sure.

I just mean...

if you don't go on this mission...

we'll never meet.

(machinery whirring)

(thumping)

Ugh... oh, whoo.

Sorry it took so long, Mr. Data.

An apology is not necessary.

Whoo.

Whoa... hey...

Ow.

Are you all right?

I believe I have overexerted myself.

Yeah, I'll say.

Did you get it working?

Yes.

Whatever it is.

This is for your trouble.

What are you going to do with the anvil?

I require a low-intensity magnetic field core.

I believe the iron mass of the anvil will provide that.

Well, uh, what's it gonna be

when it's finished?

What do you think it is... gonna be?

If I were to guess?

Maybe a, uh, a new kind of motor

for one of those horseless carriages.

That is a good guess.

Hot damn.

You really think there's money in those things?

Perhaps.

Hah!

Isn't that what makes America great?

To what are you referring?

Well, a man rides into town in his pajamas,

wins a grub stake at a poker table,

turns it into a horseless carriage,

and makes a million bucks? That's America.

I believe I have given you an erroneous impression.

You know, someday...

my ship's gonna come in.

You have a ship?

Oh, yeah, and it's full of gold, too.

I'm just biding my time till it gets here,

raising a stake any way I can.

I've been a newsie, cut fish at a cannery.

Heck, I've even been an oyster pirate.

You have had a considerable spectrum of occupations.

Yeah, well, you can't stay in one place too long.

I'm always looking for the angle, you know.

Say, maybe you and I could go into business together,

selling your horseless carriage and all.

You invent 'em, I sell 'em.

I can sell anybody anything.

What do you say?

I believe your plan is a bit premature.

Well, keep it in mind, though.

I better get back.

Oh, I forgot.

I got you something at the bakery on Third.

Oh.

Thank you, Jack.

Oh, no, no, no.

It's on me... partner.

MAN: The eminent scientist

Alfred Russell Wallace

has revived the theory

that Earth is at the center of the stellar universe.

(genteel laughter)

This, uh...

distinguished...

natural...

philosopher...

has, uh, reaffirmed our planet

as the only habitable globe in the heavens.

A world, furthermore

constructed for the sole benefit of man.

Hmm.

He's got a lot of folks excited about the notion.

My dear, Mr. Clemens,

why do I think you're not one of them?

Your suspicions, Madame Guinan,

are undoubtedly based upon

your keen observational skills.

(chuckles)

Now, if you'll permit me,

I'll continue my character assassination unimpeded.

My dear, Mr. Clemens, please do, please do.

According to our best geologic estimate,

the earth is approximately 100 million years of age.

Perhaps it is less, perhaps more.

Perhaps a great deal more.

Indeed.

But regardless, it is ancient...

in the extreme.

Now, geology also tells us

that man himself

has existed but for a microscopic fraction

of those years.

(chuckling)

Curious, isn't it?

That the world got by

for such a great long while

with no humans around

to fill up space.

I suppose Mr. Wallace

and his supporters

would say that the Earth needed all that time

to prepare itself

for our illustrious arrival.

Why...

the oyster alone

probably required 15 million years

to get it to come out just right.

(laughter)

But if the Earth is not alone, and there are

millions of inhabited planets in the heavens...

Quite my point.

Man becomes a trivial creation, does he not?

Lost in the vastness

of the cosmic prairie,

adrift on the deep ocean of time.

A single one amongst...

(chuckles)

...countless others.

Some may argue

that a diamond is still a diamond,

even if it is one amongst millions.

It still shines as brightly.

Someone might say that, dear lady,

if someone thought

that the human race was akin to a precious jewel.

(people chuckling)

But this...

increasingly hypothetical someone...

would not be me.

(people laughing)

Good afternoon, sir.

Good afternoon.

I would like to speak to Guinan.

And you are?

Data.

Mr. Data.

Could it be under another name?

No.

I can't seem to find your name

on the guest list, sir.

I am a personal friend.

Madame Guinan has discovered

many personal friends

since the newspaper announcement,

but if your name is not on the guest list,

there's nothing I can do.

It is urgent that I speak to her.

Sir, unless you leave this house immediately,

I will send for the police.

That is an excellent idea.

I will wait for them in there.

Sir, please, you can't go in there.

DATA: Guinan!

I must speak to you immediately.

Forgive me, madam, he just barged right in.

I am sorry for the disruption,

but he would not believe me when

I told him we were friends.

Do I know you, Mister...?

...Data. Yes.

We were on a ship together.

Well, I do so much traveling.

What ship would that be?

The Enterprise.

Is that a clipper ship?

It is a starship.

Starship?

What registry would that be?

Of course! Mr. Data... oh.

Excuse us...

we have so much to catch up on.

Excuse us.

Just... how are you?

What exactly are you?

Android.

Artificial life-form.

Ahh...

did my father send you here?

Because if he did, you must go back

and tell him I'm not done listening...

I was not sent by your father.

Circumstances demand that I take you

into my confidence.

I require your assistance.

...sorry.

I am from the 24th century,

where you and I serve aboard a starship.

And?

Our ship encountered a species who appears

to be threatening 19th-century Earth.

I investigated and was inadvertently

pulled into their temporal vortex.

Ahh...

When I saw your photograph

in the newspaper, I assumed you had

joined me from the future...

From the Enterprise.

I knew your species was long-lived,

but I did not realize you had visited Earth

so long ago.

(clearing throat)

Eavesdropping is by no means

a proper activity for a gentleman.

Nonetheless...

the deed is done.

Captain's Log, Stardate 45965.3.

An away team has beamed to the surface

with a device which may enable them

to phase-shift into the alien world.

Okay, Counselor, right over there.

The triolic waves end right here.

Mr. Worf.

Sir.

How soon will you be ready?

We're ready now, Captain.

The subspace field is established.

I'd be more comfortable if you'd monitor our progress

from the bridge, Captain.

I have reason to believe that my presence

on this mission is imperative.

RIKER: Imperative?

Yes. Mr. Worf.

You will report back to the bridge.

Sir...

as chief of security, my place is at your side.

The security of the Enterprise

is of paramount importance, Mr. Worf.

Yes, sir.

Worf to Enterprise.

MALE VOICE: Go ahead, sir.

Beam me up.

Proceed, Mr. La Forge.

I've modified this tricorder

to interface with the subspace generator.

It should allow me to control the phase discrimination...

assuming this is going to work at all.

I'll need everyone inside the field.

Adjusting synchronic distortion...

.001.

.002.

.003.

.004...

If we can see them, why can't they see us?

The phase displacement might not bring us

far enough into their perceptual range.

These strands appear to be biomagnetic,

variable flux, possibly organic in origin.

A life-form.

No.

There's no life here.

What I have sensed is...

more like an imprint...

an echo of the last moment of life.

Human life.

They all died in terror.

My God.

They're delivering more of them for the others to ingest.

Look at what he's carrying.

(snarling)