Scene 17

            Miss Parker, Sydney, and Broots stood in the lab staring at the machine.

            “We’ve been dreaming, right?” Miss Parker murmured.

            “Mass hallucinations are the stuff of fantasy, Miss Parker,” Sydney answered.

            “And that was fantasy,” Broots chuckled. “I guess Jarod must have put in two different sets of coordinates.”

            “He still has my gun!”

            One of Broots’ fellow technicians hurried into the room with a box. “Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you for like an hour!”

            They all three slowly turned and stared at him.

            “An hour!” Miss Parker repeated.

            He backed away a step. “Uh, yes, Miss Parker. Someone said they saw you in here an hour ago, but you were gone. I figured you’d gone to lunch, but everyone said you’d never left.”

            “An hour? What’s the date?”

            “The—date?”

            “The date, moron!”

            “Uh—uh—” When he floundered helplessly, Miss Parker grabbed his arm  and looked at his watch, dropping it as if burned. She wheeled back to the other two.

            “It’s the day we left!” she hissed.

            Sydney’s mouth opened. “What?”

            “A hole in space and time,” Broots breathed. “He put us back where he wanted and when. And my little girl will never even know I was gone.”

            The technician was staring at them. “Um—Miss Parker? We found this. It was buried at the bottom of a big box of Jarod’s stuff.”

            She took it. It was a white box tied with a black bow, labeled “Miss Parker.” Hurriedly she tore off the bow and opened it. And there nestled in white tissue was her silver Smith and Weston.

            She, Sydney, and Broots gaped at it for a moment. Then she turned on the technician. “Where did you say you found this?”

            “In a box of stuff Jarod left in that warehouse! Strange pieces of technology we can’t figure out.”

            “Has anyone else been in there since…” she floundered. “Since we brought the stuff back?”

            “No! Just those of us working on it. And it’s all locked up when we aren’t using it.”

            “Hey, Miss Parker,” Broots said, “here’s something I didn’t notice before. See Jarod’s uniform? It had two lieutenant’s pips when we brought it here. But Jarod was a commander when we arrived—he had three pips. He didn’t get his commander’s pip taken away until…earlier today, I guess. Or would that be a week from now?”

            The technician still stared at them.

            “Anything else?” Miss Parker demanded.

            “No…but—what—?”

            She smiled her coldest smile at him. “We’re practicing for the company play. Now leave!”

            He left.

            “What are you saying, Broots?”

            “Uh—time travel?”

            Sydney turned to him. “Do you think Jarod arrived before he left?”

            “Well, how else did her gun get put back there?”

            A faint squeaking suddenly galvanized them. They turned toward the door as Mr. Raines came slowly in, dragging his oxygen tank behind him.

            “Have you figured it out yet,” he rasped. “This machine Jarod left?”

            “Yes,” Miss Parker said. “It’s a dud. A red herring to keep us from going after him. Sydney thinks he’s on some special case that means a lot to him. Meanwhile we’ve been playing with this stupid thing for days.”

            “Miss Parker—”

            “You don’t need to lecture me! I’ll get him next time.”

            “You’d better, Miss Parker.” He walked slowly out, dragging his oxygen tank behind him.

            “Zombie,” muttered Miss Parker.

            “Protecting Jarod, Miss Parker?” Sydney asked with a smile.

            “No, I’m not protecting Jarod! But can you imagine what would happen if the Centre got their hands on that universe? Your Deanna Troi would be sharing ventilation shafts with Angelo.”

            Broots chuckled. “The Centre could never get the better of a starship crew, Miss Parker. You should know that by now.”

            “Well, listen, Broots. You make sure this machine doesn’t work anymore. I do not want a repeat of this week. Ugg,” she groaned. “I can’t believe I’ve been wearing the same clothes for a week. I’m going to burn this suit. See you guys tomorrow. I’m going home.”

            A familiar sound made them all jump, a quiet sort of beep. “Jarod to Miss Parker,” a disembodied voice said.

            “Where is he?” Miss Parker hissed.

            “The communicator!” Broots gasped and snatched it up off the table. “It really works!”

            Miss Parker grabbed it from him. “Jarod! Where are you?”

            “You have to tap it, Miss Parker. And you don’t have to hold it to your mouth like a microphone.”

            Miss Parker hit the little metal badge in her hand. “Jarod, where are you?”

            “In a different time and place than you are, Miss Parker, but, strangely enough, using the same communicator you are. I just wanted to make sure you’d gotten home alright. I couldn’t be quite sure of that equation. Time travel isn’t the easiest thing to get right.”

            “I lied to Raines for you, Jarod!” she snapped.

            “I gave you back your week, Miss Parker. We’re even. Did you get your gun?”

            “Yes, I did. Broots thinks you’ve discovered time travel.”

            They could hear the smirk in his voice. “I should tell you that I set a timer in my transporter. It won’t work anymore.”

            “Good. The thing’s a menace.”

            “In the wrong hands it certainly is. Miss Parker?”

            “What, Jarod?”

            “Take care of Angelo.”

            “Jarod—Jarod? Jarod, are you still there?”

            There was silence. Jarod had disappeared into the world outside the Centre again.

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Scene 18

            Jarod had materialized in his warehouse. He glanced around for a few moments to get his bearings before tapping his communicator and speaking to Miss Parker. Then, with a grin, he plucked off the communicator and headed out of the warehouse.

            The owner lived nearby. Jarod knocked on his door.

            “Oh, hey, Jarod. Wow! Nice uniform! The convention must have been good. You look all excited.”

            “The convention was incredible, Steve. Look, I’ll be leaving tomorrow, and some friends of mine will be coming to clear out the warehouse. I got one of them a gift. Will you see that she gets it?”

            “Sure, Jarod.” He admired the communicator. “Boy, that’s a beauty. Not like those plastic ones they make.”

            “Do you have a little box to put it in? I’ll pay you for it.”

            “Forget it. I’ll find something. How will I know your friend?”

            “Oh, you’ll know her. She’s very beautiful, but not very happy. Thanks, Steve.”

            He went back to the warehouse and made some alterations to the transportation machine. When he was done, he found a box and some tissue and a ribbon that had accompanied his Starfleet uniform when he ordered it from a fan club in California. Removing Miss Parker’s gun from his waistband, he put it in the box, tied it up neatly, wrote her name on it in his precise handwriting, and buried it in the bottom of a box of spare components.

            A hand landed on his shoulder and spun him up and around. He caught his balance and grinned at himself. His younger self stared, wide-eyed, and then laughed. “So it works!”

            “It works. I was just leaving something for Miss Parker. Look, I’ll get out of your hair. There doesn’t need to be two of us here. Just a couple of things. Don’t make any changes to the timers in the transportation machine, but once you’ve activated your own transport to San Francisco, set it to transport the second time to a Jeffries tube on the Enterprise.”

            His younger self knew better than to ask why. He nodded. “Why don’t you sleep at the apartment tonight? I have things to finish here. You’ll need some different clothes.”

            “Whereas you won’t.” He grinned at the uniform with its three commander’s pips folded neatly on a chair. “We’ll leave the uniform I’m wearing here for Broots. He’ll enjoy that.”

            His younger self grinned back. “Anything else I should know?”

            “No. You know what they say in Starfleet. Any knowledge of your own future could have serious consequences for the timeline.” He shrugged. “For all I know, I could be wrecking the space-time continuum by standing here talking to myself.”

            His younger self chuckled with him. “Where are you going now?”

            “I thought…Los Angeles.” He put out his hand and wryly shook with himself.

            He was out of the apartment early the next morning, having packed up his few things, all except the Starfleet uniform with two lieutenant’s pips and the things he had taken with him to the world of the Federation. A short time later he sat in his rented car and watched himself enter the apartment and come out with the things he had left. His younger self caught sight of the car and gave it a jaunty wave.

            Later that evening he was outside the warehouses, in his car again, and he watched as Miss Parker, with Sydney and Sam the Sweeper in tow, pulled up in a large black car and met Steve the distraught warehouse owner. He smiled. Welcome to the adventure. Putting the car in gear, he pulled away and found the road for Los Angeles.

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Scene 19

            Following Captain Picard up to the bridge, Riker said in a low tone to Deanna, “What was that about?”

            “What?” she asked in the tone that hid a laugh behind it. He knew that tone well.

            “That kiss. Are you in love with him, Deanna?”

            “Not that it’s any of your business, Will, but no, I am not. That kiss was…an acknowledgement.”

            “An acknowledgement?”

            “That despite Jarod’s extraordinary gifts and curses, he’s just a Human, like the rest of us, and deserves to find happiness and peace just as much as the rest of us do. I’m not sure he’s fully aware of that yet.”

            Riker raised an eyebrow. “You can communicate all that with a kiss?”

            Deanna laughed at him.

            They stepped out onto the elevator and took their seats. Data told Picard, “The course is laid in for our rendezvous with Starfleet Security, sir.”

            Thinking of the report he had to give, Picard shook his head wryly. “Engage.”