Star Trek: The Original Series: The Rings of Time

have two children, one of whom, there is reason to believe, will be conceived during their long voyage back from Saturn. James Kirk Christopher-Fontana, to be precise.”

“You see, Bones?” Kirk grinned at the doctor. “It seems everything’s turned out just the way it’s supposed to.”

“Except for one persistent loose end waiting outside in the hall,” McCoy said. “She’s been asking to see you.”

Zoe. Kirk had almost forgotten about her.

“What about her, Spock? What does history tell us about Zoe Querez?”

“Curiously little, Captain. In fact, there are no references to her after this date and scant few before then.” Spock sounded mildly vexed that she had eluded his research. “Of course, records from this era are notoriously incomplete. Much of the data was lost during the ensuing world war.”

“True enough.” Kirk hoped that Zoe’s future anonymity didn’t mean that she would be thrown into some secret government prison after her antics in space. She deserved better, even if she did know more than she should. “All right, Bones. Send her in.”

McCoy paged security. Moments later, Zoe was escorted into sickbay. He saw, with some amusement, that she had borrowed a red yeoman’s uniform from somewhere. She twirled, showing off her legs.

“You like? If I had to wear those same old clothes one more day…”

“It suits you,” Kirk said. “I mean it.”

She squinted at his unfamiliar features. “Is that really you in there, Skipper? I admit, I’m still getting used to your brand-new face.”

“Depends on which Skipper you mean. I’m the other Shaun you knew, the one after the probe. The more ‘interesting’ one, remember?” He smiled at the memory of their zero-g grappling in the airlock. “I hope the new face doesn’t put you off too much.”

“Nah.” She winked at him. “It suits you.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got to his feet. It felt good to have a young, capable body again, well adapted to artificial gravity. McCoy and Spock backed away to give them some privacy. “I appreciate your help with the rescue mission.”

“No problem. I hear you folks pulled the doc’s kid out of the fire?”

“She’s fine, thanks in part to the intel you provided.”

“Good,” Zoe said. “I liked Marcus, even if he did try to kill us all.” She glanced around the sickbay, taking in this peek at the future of medicine. “So, what now, Skipper? You beaming me back to the Lewis & Clark?”

“I’m afraid our transporters aren’t quite that powerful. We’re still orbiting Earth, using our deflectors to avoid detection, which raises an interesting possibility. If you’d like, we can drop you off anywhere on the planet. There’s no need for you to spend the next three months in transit back from Saturn, especially since you weren’t supposed to be on that flight in the first place. Plus, it might make it easier for you to evade the authorities if you aren’t on the Lewis & Clark when it gets back to Earth in January.”

She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, Captain, and I’m sure Fontana and the real Shaun will appreciate the alone time, but it’s not necessary.” She stepped away from the bed. “You see, Earth isn’t really my home.”

She shimmered before him like a mirage. Kirk’s eyes bulged, and Spock and McCoy rushed to rejoin them, as a familiar golden veil formed over her features. The red yeoman’s uniform vanished, replaced by twenty-third- century business attire. Kirk immediately recognized the petite figure standing before them.

“Qat Zaldana?”

“Hello again, gentlemen. It’s good to see you once more — in this persona, that is.”

“Wait a second,” McCoy blurted. “Am I getting this right? Zoe Querez and Qat Zaldana are one and the same?”

“So it appears, Doctor,” Spock said, “albeit separated by more than two centuries.”

She shrugged. “Time doesn’t mean a whole lot to beings like me. We’re not constrained by the fourth dimension the same way you are.”

“But which one is the real you,” Kirk asked, “and which is the disguise?”

“Both. Neither. That question kind of misses the point, Captain. You can call me Qat or Zoe, whatever feels natural.”

Kirk felt as if he was talking to an unusually glib Organian or a Metron. Clearly, this entity was far more than she had appeared to be — in either of her guises. No wonder she had been able to stow away aboard the Lewis & Clark so easily. She could probably go anywhere she wished.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “What have you been doing among us? Why did you conceal your true nature?”

“To avoid spoiling the game, of course. It’s been a nail-biter, but you came through with flying colors… in both centuries.”

“A game?” Anger flared inside him. “Is that all this was to you? Some kind of sport, an entertainment? We almost died out by Saturn. People did die at Klondike VI!”

“That wasn’t my doing. I was just playing along, watching as events unfolded according to the choices made by you and your fellow creatures.” Her veil shimmered and evaporated, exposing Zoe’s face underneath. “It was the doc who went off his rocker, remember, and the colonists on Skagway who panicked and rioted.”

“But if you’d been honest with us,” Kirk insisted, “revealed your true nature, couldn’t you have fixed things yourself, before things reached a crisis? You obviously have knowledge and abilities beyond our own. Why didn’t you use them to help us instead of watching us run around like rats in a maze?”

“More like adorable puppies learning a new trick,” she teased him. “Seriously, it wasn’t my place. Your plane of existence — your challenges, your victories. Think about it. Would you really want higher-level busybodies like me meddling in your affairs all the time?” She turned back into Qat again. “And honestly, material beings and worlds all seem fairly ephemeral from our perspective. Whether the rings collapse now or billions of your years from now doesn’t really matter to us; they’re still gone in a blink.” Zoe emerged from beneath the shimmering veil. “The fun was in seeing how you all coped with that twisty little temporal puzzle at the center of your respective missions.”

Fun? He was starting to wonder if she was less like an Organian and more like a Trelane. Come to think of it, Zoe’s mischievous, frequently immature attitude bore a slight resemblance to a certain self-styled Squire of Gothos. He wondered if he should call for security — and if that would make any difference.

Probably not.

McCoy scratched his head. “Help me out here. The probe. The problem with the rings. Was that your creation?”

“Nope. I’m not what you call a Preserver. I’m something else altogether.” She split down the middle, looking like Zoe on the left and Qat Zaldana on the right. “That whole business with the probe and the planets was simply an intriguing situation playing out in your cute little reality, one that I couldn’t resist sitting in on. I just nudged things along a bit, made sure you both ran into the probe at the right times and places, transcendentally speaking. And you know what? It paid off. You got the clues you needed to figure everything out. Bravo!”

“What about the body swapping?” Kirk asked. “The mind transfer over time and space?”

“Okay,” she confessed, “I may have had a little to do with that. Or a lot.”

She knew who I was the whole time, he realized. Even in the brig.

He didn’t know what to think about that.

“You said we came through with flying colors. What does that mean?”

“It means you’re quite the interesting physical species. Just wait until I tell the others about you. You definitely warrant further study.”

“In the future,” Spock asked, “or in the past?”

Zoe/Qat shrugged. “Is there a difference?”

She blew Kirk a kiss, then vanished in a flash of blinding white light.

“Well, I’ll be.” McCoy rubbed his eyes. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to that sort of thing. You think we’ll run into her or her people again?”