by Dave Stern
“Extra time?” Archer shook his head. “Oh no. On the contrary, Ensign—take the rest of the day off.”
Everyone around the table laughed. Except Hoshi, who didn’t realize he was making a joke.
“Take the day off? Stay in my cabin?” She looked horrified. “Do I have to sir? Can’t I go back on duty?”
Archer stood then, and clapped her on the shoulder.
“Ensign, as far as I’m concerned…you can work as hard as you want for the rest of this voyage.”
Leaving behind a slightly-puzzled looking Hoshi, the captain walked straight to the nearest companel, and punched open a channel.
Trip was on his way up to the bridge when he got the news. He turned the turbolift right around, and went right to the cell-ship.
Damned if Hoshi wasn’t spot on. Damned if those Suliban sensors hadn’t picked up every detail of their accidental trip through the anomaly.
It took him all of five minutes to set up the interface and download the data to the ship’s computer.
When he got back to the bridge, Archer was just finishing up a conversation with Leeman Sadir. He was sitting at the head of a long, black table somewhere in the Kresh, looking for all the world like he belonged there.
Makandros, Kairn, Guildsman Lind, and—to Trip’s surprise—Ferik Reeve were among those who surrounded him.
“Absent a few final details,” the boy was saying, “we are fairly well agreed. A transition over the next few years—”
“The next two years,” Lind interrupted with a smile on his face.
“Over an as-yet-to-be-finalized period of time, during which power will gradually pass from the respective military units to the Presidium itself.”
“It sounds like you have things well in hand, then,” Archer said.
“I think we do,” the boy said. “And all of us”—his gaze took in the table—“know how much we have you to thank for that.”
“You’re welcome,” Archer said. “Now speaking of transitions…”
“I understand. We need to get back to work as well.” The boy smiled. “Good-bye, sir. And thank you again.”
Archer closed the channel and turned to Trip.
“We’re all set?”
“Ready as we’ll ever be.” Trip turned to the viewscreen, where the anomaly beckoned.
And all at once, he smiled.
“What?” Archer asked.
What he’d been thinking about was that the anomaly represented a gateway, one that led to all possible universes. Including one where Neesa was still alive. One where there was no such thing as a mirror-image molecule, where the two of them had stayed together, and…
What? Remained on Eclipse?
He pictured himself as engineer aboard that ship, and frowned. That would have been more like a lifetime of repair work. So Nessa would have come on board Enterprise. Except this ship already had a chief medical officer. So what would they have done?
No, he suddenly realized. He was thinking about this in entirely the wrong way, because everything that he could imagine them doing together, they were doing. Had done. The theory demanded it. So in one reality, he was aboard Eclipse, in another she was on Enterprise, and in a third…
Trip smiled. In a third, even now, at this very second, the two of them were—
“If it’s not that important,” Archer said, interrupting his thoughts. “Then…”
“Right.” Trip punched a few keys on his console. “Course calculated and transmitted to helm.”
“Laid in and awaiting your command.”
“Impulse and warp engines on-line.”
“Then let’s do it,” Archer said. “Travis…”
“Aye, sir. Initiating course and speed—now.”
The ship slid smoothly forward toward the beckoning anomaly. Trip looked into the spinning whirl of color and smiled.
“Home sweet home,” he whispered under his breath. “Here we come.”
Acknowledgments
Thanks this time go to…
Everyone at Pocket Books and Paramount Licensing, especially Paula Block, Margaret Clark, Donna O’Neill, and Scott Shannon.
Rick Berman, Brannon Braga, and Connor Trineer, for the Trip I held in my mind while writing.
Leave us not forget Janet Holliday and the real Kevin Ryan. Nor kids, wife, dogs, or Dolby 5.1.
And Star Trek fandom, much-maligned at times, but an indispensable component of any successful Trek novel.
