Last time on "Star Trek: The Next Generation".
They found Data's head a mile beneath San Francisco.
Been down there about five centuries.
At some future date, I will be taken back to 19th-century Earth,
where I will die.
It has occurred. It will occur.
Do I know you, Mr...
Data.
Yes. We were on a ship together.
- The Enterprise. - Is that a clipper ship?
- It is a starship. - Starship?
My God. They're delivering more of them for the others to ingest.
Did my father send you?
If he did, go back and tell him...
I was not sent by him.
We encountered a species who is threatening 19th-century Earth.
I can't accept that he's dead and just leave it.
- We cannot make Data a priority. - What is more important than Data?
- Remember the first time we met? - Of course.
Don't be so sure.
If you don't go on this mission, we'll never meet.
And now, the conclusion.
I've long been interested in the notion of time travellers.
In fact, I wrote a book about it. It tells the tale of a man of our era
who fouls the 6th century by introducing newfangled gadgets
and weapons, all in the name of progress.
This idea of time travel...
Not so far-fetched as it might seem.
In fact, I have just learned that even now
there are people from the future right here in San Francisco,
and I have no doubt that their intent is to foul our world
just like my Yankee did in King Arthur's time.
Well, let me serve notice,
as soon as I have the necessary evidence, I intend to expose them
and make it absolutely clear that they are not welcome here.
Yes, sir. Will this be a sequel to Connecticut Yankee, Mr. Twain?
Name is Clemens, boy. Sam Clemens. That's with an E.
With an E. Got it.
Excuse me.
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.
The coroner said this is where they kept the cholera victims.
It doesn't make sense that so many people are dying of cholera.
It just isn't that virulent.
Will.
This is strange.
What is it?
The cerebellum, the cerebral cortex, the brain stem,
the entire nervous system has been depleted of electrochemical energy.
Here's another one. Same neural depletion.
These people did not die of cholera.
Their neural energy was drained somehow.
Drained?
And taken to Devidia II for those aliens to ingest?
If you were a time traveller with a taste for human neural energy,
where would you get your supply?
I would travel back to a time when there were plagues and epidemics,
so I could murder and use the disease as a cover.
Over half the victims came from the Sisters of Hope Infirmary.
The hospital near the waterfront.
If the aliens killed people there, someone may have noticed something.
They must have taken on human form. But how do we know who to look for?
The tricorder indicated triolic activity from most of the bodies.
If the aliens left that signature, they'll be detectable.
We might even be able to rig some kind of alien-alarm system.
- Any luck contacting Data? - None.
The tricorder's broadcasting on all frequencies he might pick up,
but the range is limited. Almost anything could interfere.
She's back.
Mr. Picard?
Yes, Mrs. Carmichael?
Mr. Picard! I'll be reminding you that it's one o'clock.
- Yes. - One o'clock on a Thursday.
I'm sure I made it clear to you that the rent is always due,
payable in full, by one o'clock on Wednesdays.
Yes.
The rent.
Mrs. Carmichael, even now my...
my troupe are in rehearsals for a new production.
I haven't heard of a new production. What play is it?
The play?
A Midsummer Night's Dream. We have performed in London, Paris, Milan...
Milan! To sold-out houses.
I can assure you, you will have the rent, in full, with a bonus.
No, no.
I've heard you silver-tongued devils before.
I'll have my rent in full tomorrow by one o'clock,
or you'll be performing on the street!
I wouldn't do this for just anyone.
I hope you won't spread it around I let you in. People start talking.
Of course not, Jack. I assure you, Mr. Data would be upset if you didn't.
If I can't find that letter of intent that he left me,
our major investor is going to pull out and take his business elsewhere.
- It has to do with Mr. Data's engine? - Engine?
Yes.
Yes.
Yes, this is exactly what it's all about.
Mr. Clemens, I'm gonna do you another favour today.
You're always looking for good stories, right?
I've got a real humdinger for you. The story of my life.
You may think I'm young,
but I've covered a lot of ground and it'd make pretty fascinating reading.
- So, what do you think? - About what?
About writing my life story.
You and me. Literary partners, of course.
Young man, I have a maxim that I have always lived by.
No one is more qualified to write your story than you are.
Me? Be a writer? Do you think I could do that?
As long as it's about what you know. You got any passions? Any dreams?
Well, I'd like to do some travelling, maybe go to sea.
And I've had the strangest notion to go see Alaska.
That's a great idea! Exactly what I would do if I were your age.
Alaska, the Klondike, the aurora borealis. That's it!
Follow your dreams and write about 'em.
Thank you, Mr. Clemens. That is exactly what I'll do.
- You do that. - You'll see my name in print.
- I'm sure I will. - Don't forget. The name's London.
- Jack London. - Goodbye now.
Bye-bye.
I found the head surveyor, I found the cavern.
You will not be able to get to it.
The entrance is on a mine shaft, in the Presidio, on an army base.
- Perhaps you could get us in. - How?
With permission to dig for the mine shaft.
I've done all you've asked...
I have full confidence in your persuasive abilities.
Well, it's more interesting than throwing a tea dance.
Strange. The transceiver assembly has been removed.
Without it, I will be unable to track the time shifts.
Twain.
- Clemens? - Yes.
He's been driving me crazy.
He watches the house. He follows me down the street asking me questions.
If anyone took this, you can believe it was him.
If so, he must be warned.
The device has been modified.
Prolonged contact with human tissue would be toxic.
Madam Guinan.
- Mr. Data. - Shame on you, Mr. Clemens!
Shame, madam? I think not.
I find no shame in my efforts to uncover your plot!
I keep telling you, there is no plot!
Yes, you do keep telling me that.
What an interesting pair you are.
Where in Switzerland did you say you were from, Mr. Data?
I am French, sir, not Swiss.
Yes, that's right. Now I remember. A Frenchman.
With a talent for poker, from what I hear.
You know, I was talking to a friend of mine, Ches Whitley.
He says to say hello and wonders when you're coming back.
I do not know a Mr. Whitley.
No? He works in the county assayer's office.
He said you've been in there
claiming to be a geological engineer
and wanting information about mining operations during the 1850s.
You remember him now?
I am unfamiliar with the name.
- I spoke to several people there. - Yes, I know.
And in the hall of records, and in the Geological Society,
and in a little-known mineral shop in Chinatown.
You do get around, don't you?
- As apparently you do, Mr. Clemens. - Yes.
But I must admit, you've got me mystified.
This... contraption, for instance. It's very unusual.
It looks quite futuristic.
Tell me, might it have something to do with time shifts?
In a sense.
The time shift is a gearing system I have invented
- for the horseless carriage. - Do not insult me!
You have come here to this century
and brought your infernal technology for God only knows what purpose,
but it will be the people of this century who will suffer for it!
My dear Mr. Clemens, I do think we've heard enough.
Mr. Data's business is his own, and I will thank you to leave now.
Pardon me, Madam Guinan, but it is my business, too.
It is the business of all humanity, I believe,
to stop both of you from whatever it is you are doing here.
And that is what I intend to do!
Just what are you doing with those lamps?
Replacing the burners. City ordinance.
Makes it safer in case of earthquake.
There hasn't been an earthquake here in 30 years.
Well, that takes care of this ward. Time to be moving on.
Earthquakes...!
Nurse!
If you can handle things here, I have to meet the board of patrons.
I'll try to manage.
There, by that bed. I can see an after-image of triolic waves.
They've been here recently, I'd say within the last 24 hours.
A man died there last night.
This man complained
about a strange doctor and nurse who visited that patient.
Perhaps they're still in the hospital.
Here. This'll make you more comfortable.
Do you need any help, Doctor?
Dr Apollinaire felt he had entered the algid state.
He was cyanotic, pulse unobservable.
That's an interesting cane.
Doctor!
Stand aside. Let me in.
People said there was gunfire in here.
A little misunderstanding. I was clearing people out.
I haven't seen you before.
I was sent here this morning from downtown.
I worked downtown for three years.
- I don't remember you. - We'll be off.
No, wait. I must ask you all to come down to the station for questioning.
Including you.
Where'd you get that? That's a gentleman's cane.
I've never seen a cane like this.
I'll have to confiscate it for evidence.
I just want you to know that I have the utmost respect for the law.
Let's go!
Data!
Boy, are we glad to see you!
I suggest we postpone our greetings for now.
- Agreed. Get us out of here. - Halt!
If we tune a phaser to the frequency of triolic waves
and lay down a field burst, it might respond.
The ophidian the aliens were carrying!
What the...
Minute distortions in the space-time continuum. Like we saw on Devidia II.
So small they lasted only a second.
The aliens are able to concentrate the distortion
and direct it to a specific time and place.
Maybe they have something, a mechanism that focuses it.
Any device like that would produce high levels of triolic waves.
Like in the cavern where Data's head was.
- I have located that cavern. - Mr. Picard!
I know you're in there. Open the door!
Mrs. Carmichael...
"How now, spirit! whither wander you?"
"Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier."
Thank goodness you're here!
We need someone for a part. You're just in time.
Mr. Picard, I need to be talking to you.
"..would that he be gone."
"I'll met by moonlight, proud Titania."
Now, Mrs. Carmichael. There.
"I’ll met by moonlight, proud Titania."
"What, jealous Oberon!"
"Fairies, skip hence:"
"I have forsworn
his bed and company."
Well, I don't need to hear any more.
That was truly unique.
Really?
I think we have found our Titania. Don't you agree?
Well, I... I did do a church play when I was a lass.
Well, there you are!
We start rehearsals tomorrow.
You're back. I have wonderful news.
I've found a way to get onto the Presidio and into the mine shaft.
It is alright.
- Do you know me? - Very well.
- Do I know you? - Not yet. But you will.
Thanks for your help.
Be sure to put in me spotting that phoney policeman.
Yes, sir, I will.
- Hello, son! - Mr. Clemens.
- What brings you here? - Writer's curiosity.
I heard that two people vanished into thin air in this infirmary.
One of the patients said that, yes, sir, but the police deny it.
I bet they do.
They say a band of outlaws set off an explosion and escaped.
Well, what did these outlaws look like?
The carriage they escaped in was driven by an albino.
Mr. Data.
- You know him? - You bet I do.
- You say there were others with him? - Yes. At least a dozen.
His accomplices. They've come from the future. It's an invasion!
An invasion from the future?
Mr. Clemens! What can you tell me? Do you have any proof?
- When's your deadline? - Five o'clock.
I'll meet you at your paper at 4.30 with a story to make your career.
Thanks!
Take me to the Presidio, driver, and don't spare the whip!
The triolic waves are as high as they were on Devidia II.
- No sign of a control mechanism. - I'm not so sure.
My visor is picking up crystalline fractures.
These walls have undergone some kind of selective molecular polarization.
In fact, this cavern was configured to focus the space-time distortion.
Just like a lens.
Captain, we think we might be onto something.
The cavern itself seems to be acting as a focusing mechanism.
I'll bet it's the same at their habitat on Devidia II.
If we can destroy that site, it'd put an end to their time-travelling.
- We have the ophidian. - I don't know that we can get back.
The aliens use triolic energy as a power source.
The energy our phasers generate might not be entirely compatible.
We must try.
An event I most certainly would enjoy witnessing!
However, I will regretfully waive that opportunity
for the privilege of taking you all in to the authorities.
Mr. Clemens, it is imperative that we continue our mission.
Mr. Data, I have listened to your stories, excuses and evasions.
I will listen no longer!
It is my moral duty to protect mankind
from whatever devious plan you have in mind.
Now, move along.
I suspect that even time travellers are vulnerable to the Colt .45.
Now, let's go.
I made a young fellow a promise and I don't want to be late.
Follow him.
- Is everyone alright? - I think so.
You?!
Where are we? And when?
It's the 24th century on Devidia Il, and you're not supposed to be here.
I have as much right to be in your time as you had to be in mine!
I wanted to see how you've conducted my future affairs.
- Your future affairs? - The affairs of mankind.
But the disappearance of Mark Twain, a most noted literary figure?
- Thank you. - It's not meant to happen.
I took advantage of an irresistible opportunity. Any good writer would.
- Bridge to away team, acknowledge. - We're here, Mr. Worf.
Stand by to transport five.
Commander.
- Mr. Worf? - Yes, Commander?
Make that six to transport.
- Where are we now? - This is the Starship Enterprise.
I want a security escort for this man.
Security? What for? Are you afraid I'll go around stealing things?
A werewolf!
It's a long story, Mr. Worf.
Let's take Data's body to the lab. I'll reattach the head we have.
That head is over 500 years old.
But it's the best chance we've got.
I want Mr. Clemens kept under escort at all times.
Commander, perhaps I could handle that.
I'd be happy to take Mr. Clemens to his quarters.
Good idea.
- Will you accompany the Counsellor? - Madam, I'd be delighted.
So, this is a spaceship.
You ever run into Halley's Comet?
Gently.
Don't sit up too quickly.
Where'd everybody go?
I hope they're all safely back on the Enterprise by now.
- But you're still here. - You were hurt.
- I had to make sure you were OK. - And so you stayed for that?
I didn't want anything to happen to you.
You're far too important to me.
You know an awful lot about me.
Believe me, in the future, the tables will be turned.
So we become friends?
It goes far beyond friendship.
But I'll have to wait 500 years.
And when we meet, I won't even be able to tell you about this.
No, because for me, none of this will have happened yet.
What's that?
That's history fulfilling itself.
History has to fulfil itself. Even Picard knew that.
You were there in the cavern. You know what happened.
What am I supposed to do?
If I told you what happened in that cavern,
it might affect any decision you'd make now.
I can't do that. I won't.
Not telling me may affect my decision. Did you think of that?
We're talking about Jean-Luc Picard.
I can't sit around and hope it all works out.
I've got to do something!
Any place that doesn't stock a good cigar doesn't rank high in my book.
If you must have one, I'm sure we can replicate it for you.
If you think that one of these imitations
can take the place of a hand-wrapped Havana...
- I wouldn't know. - Well, that's the problem here.
All this technology only serves to take away life's simple pleasures.
You don't even let a man open the door for a lady.
I think what we've gained outweighs anything that might have been lost.
Well, I'm not so impressed with this future.
Huge starships and weapons that can no doubt destroy entire cities,
and military conquest as a way of life?
Is that what you see here?
I know what you say, that this is a vessel of exploration
and that your mission is to discover new worlds.
That's what the Spanish said.
Deck 36.
And the Dutch and the Portuguese. It's what all conquerors say.
I'm sure that's what you told that blue-skinned fellow I just saw
before you brought him here to serve you.
He's one of thousands of species that we've encountered.
We live in a peaceful federation with most of them.
The people you see are here by choice.
So they're a privileged few who serve on these ships,
living in luxury and wanting for nothing.
But what about everybody else? What about the poor? You ignore them.
Poverty was eliminated on Earth a long time ago
and a lot of other things disappeared with it.
Hopelessness, despair, cruelty.
I come from a time when men achieve power and wealth
by standing on the backs of the poor,
where prejudice and intolerance are commonplace
and power is an end unto itself.
And you're telling me that isn't how it is any more?
That's right.
Well, maybe...
..it's worth giving up cigars for after all.
- Any luck? - Not so far.
His activating units won't initialize.
I thought they would have been protected by his buffering program,
but I guess 500 years is just too long a wait.
My watch!
- That's it. - Yeah.
It was found in the cavern where Data's head was.
I guess after 500 years that's not likely to work either.
Mr. Data,
I fear I have sadly misjudged you.
As I have misjudged many things.
Can you communicate?
Yes.
You're injured.
Why have you interfered with us?
You hunt us. You kill us.
We cannot allow that.
We need your energy.
- Perhaps we can find a substitute. - No.
There is none.
We must continue.
We know how you move back and forth through time.
My crew have returned to the 24th century
to destroy your transport site on Devidia II.
Destroy it?
Your weapons will only amplify the time distortion.
You will annihilate your own world.
I'm going back for Capt Picard.
Mr. Worf, assemble an away team to accompany me.
Doctor, what can you tell me about that ophidian?
I've started tests. In a few hours...
I can't give the alien more time.
I haven't determined if our phaser energy can generate a stable field.
- The risk would be... - I'll take that risk!
- Permission to speak frankly. - Go ahead.
Our priority is to stop the aliens from any more incursions to Earth.
Any delay is unacceptable.
If I can save Picard, I consider it very acceptable.
The Captain would not!
We should target torpedoes on the alien habitat and destroy it.
Immediately.
He's right, Will.
Power up the photons, Mr. Worf. Alert me when they're ready.
Computer, initialize the reload circuits.
Reload circuits are initializing.
OK.
Data?
This ought to do it.
I don't get it.
I don't understand why this isn't working.
Computer, ...
..run me a diagnostic on the input polarisers.
There is intermittent contact in the input polarisers.
Intermittent?
What?!
An iron filing. How'd that get in there?
I have set the photons to fire in staggered rounds,
detonating in ten-second intervals.
Very well, fire when ready.
The sequence will be ready to initiate in one minute.
Computer, run another diagnostic on the input polarisers.
Polarizer circuits are functioning.
Well, then, that ought to do it.
OK, Data, come on now.
Torpedoes.
Phasing.
Alien.
I am processing a binary message
entered into my static memory by Capt Picard.
Geordi, are we planning to fire on the alien habitat?
- Yeah, but... - It is imperative that we do not.
- I will explain later. - La Forge to Riker.
Hold your fire!
The binary message left by the Captain is not entirely clear.
He's concerned about the phase differential of our torpedoes,
that firing them might produce catastrophic effects.
So how can we destroy their habitat?
If I am correct, we must modify our weapons
so the force of the explosion is re-phased into their time continuum.
We could alter the photons with phase discriminators.
- How long will it take? - At least a couple of hours.
- Fine. I'll have time to go get him. - Sir?
I'm going back to get the Captain. Doctor?
My analysis of the phasers suggests you'd be able to open the rift,
but you couldn't transport more than one person.
- If I go back, only one can return? - That's right.
Then I have the perfect solution for you.
I'm the one who should return to the 19th century
and remain there so your captain can return here.
There's a risk. We're not sure how stable the rift will be.
There's risk in everything. The point is, it's the right choice!
I've got more books to write, and your captain has a job to do here.
Geordi, brief him on what he needs to know.
Aye, sir.
I'm glad I have a chance to thank you.
For what, sir?
For starting me out on the greatest adventure a man's ever had!
And for helping a bitter old man to open his eyes
and see that the future turned out pretty well after all.
I'm thirsty.
I'm going to get help. We have to get you out of here.
No, don't. Don't go.
- They'll be back for you soon. - No, you need help.
This thing put me down in the middle of Market Street!
Took forever to get here.
Cmdr La Forge has just completed the reconfiguration of the torpedoes.
If Clemens got back, the Captain should have been here by now.
We have no way of knowing if Mr. Clemens was successful.
Re-establish your firing pattern. We'll wait five more minutes.
Aye, sir.
There's no time for chitchat, sir.
According to Mr. La Forge, who did get your message, by the way,
a frequency setting of .047 on your phaser
will correctly activate this creature.
You have to get help. Guinan needs medical attention.
I promise she will be attended to.
And there is a bill at the boarding house.
- I'll settle it. - Thank you.
I wish time would have allowed me to know you better.
You'll just have to read my books. What I am is pretty much there.
I'll see you in 500 years, Picard.
And I'll see you... in a few minutes.
Commander, I am picking up massive triolic-wave activity on the surface.
- Is it the Captain? - There are no human life signs.
- No sign of temporal distortion? - No, sir.
But triolic activity is increasing.
The aliens.
- Mr. Worf, are the photons ready? - Yes, sir.
Fire.
Torpedoes away, sir.
Sir, I am detecting a temporal distortion on the surface.
And human life signs.
O'Brien, get him out!
- Have you got him? - He has indeed.
And believe me, it's good to be back.
We have destroyed the target. There is no further triolic activity.
Ensign, lay in a course for the nearest star base. Warp six.
Captain's log, stardate 46001.3.
Everyone who should be in the 19th century is safely there
and those who should be in the 24th are here.
Mr. Data has been restored to us, head and all,
and Samuel Clemens will write the books
he was to have written after our encounter.
Now be careful, boys, don't jostle her too much.
Don't worry, Madam Guinan, you're gonna be fine!

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