prosthetic,
both arms nothing more than thick cybernetic cables with tools at the end. As he looked
back up he saw the void itself—the Q Continuum—change. Parts of it folded in on itself
while other parts expanded.
“Oh my Q,” he said, hardly above a whisper, the pain causing his vision to shimmer.
The Continuum contorted and changed into a Borg cube of enormous size. It filled the
entire space between stars. It flowed effortlessly between dimensions. Touching upon
infinite timelines at once, assimilating uncountable universes.
Stave Six
“How could this be?” said Q. He looked upon the Continuum with horror. All of it was
gone. Literally everything that had and would exist.
But then he squinted into the newly formed Borg-verse. He beheld a solemn Phantom,
draped and hooded, walking toward him.
Q felt another feeling he was unaccustomed to, but he was happy to embrace it: relief.
“Were these—” He found himself overwhelmed. He was confused and scared. Feelings he
abhorred. The anger helped form the words that had stuck in his throat. “Were these
shadows of things yet to come?”
The spirit approached, walking along an invisible path in the vacuum of space. As
he came close, the impossible Borg cube and Borg-verse melted away, replaced by Scrooge’s
sitting room. Q was actually happy to see the insipid Dutch fireplace.
“Are you telling me that by having a little fun with Jean-Luc, the Borg are going
to assimilate Q?”
The apparition lifted its arms. Q expected to see skeletal hands within the folds
of the dark cloak. But instead there were human hands. They lifted back the hood that
shrouded the spirit’s face. It was the face of an older man. His hair was equal parts
black and gray, as were his trim beard and mustache. He smiled the same annoying smile
everyone else had sported.
“You’re not the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come,” said Q.
The older man shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice deep but gentle. “Perhaps you
should consider me the Ghost of Alternate Timelines Yet to Come. Your alternate timeline,
of course. And to answer your question about ‘having a little fun with Jean-Luc,’
yes and no. Q’s intrusive behavior has always caused an unnecessary stress to the
fabric of the universe. You think you know everything. That’s dangerous to every other
living thing throughout the multiverse. We felt it was time to show you what could
happen from your meddling.”
“Rather melodramatic, don’t you think? Do you really believe that my putting mankind
on trial or having Jean-Luc face the Borg years before humans and Borg would have
naturally crossed paths led to the destruction of the Q Continuum?”
“Oh, you’ll believe what you want. But as we tried to tell you, you really understand
so little. Yes, this had everything to do with your meddling with mankind. And while
you and the rest of the Continuum will continue to find ways to be a bother, we have
faith that even Q can learn. Perhaps to even redeem themselves.”
Q snorted in derision. But suddenly the name Ayelborne fired across the equivalent
of his brainpan. Of course, the Organians—with Ayelborne in the human form he had
taken for the benefit of Kirk and Spock. We have underestimated them, thought Q. Such a quiet lot. We took that as a measure of their lack of power. Of
their will. That wouldn’t happen again.
“Do you want to see what causes the destruction of your precious Continuum?”
“I can hardly wait,” said Q, but he felt the tingle of fear at the back of his mind,
and he hated that he knew the Organian felt it as well.
Q now sat on the stage of an auditorium. There were a few thousand beings in the audience.
He recognized creatures from every member of the Federation. Then he noticed the pain.
His legs and arms ached. Throbbed. Looking down, he saw that he inhabited the body
of a child. Timothy, the former Borg-child. Then
both arms nothing more than thick cybernetic cables with tools at the end. As he looked
back up he saw the void itself—the Q Continuum—change. Parts of it folded in on itself
while other parts expanded.
“Oh my Q,” he said, hardly above a whisper, the pain causing his vision to shimmer.
The Continuum contorted and changed into a Borg cube of enormous size. It filled the
entire space between stars. It flowed effortlessly between dimensions. Touching upon
infinite timelines at once, assimilating uncountable universes.
Stave Six
“How could this be?” said Q. He looked upon the Continuum with horror. All of it was
gone. Literally everything that had and would exist.
But then he squinted into the newly formed Borg-verse. He beheld a solemn Phantom,
draped and hooded, walking toward him.
Q felt another feeling he was unaccustomed to, but he was happy to embrace it: relief.
“Were these—” He found himself overwhelmed. He was confused and scared. Feelings he
abhorred. The anger helped form the words that had stuck in his throat. “Were these
shadows of things yet to come?”
The spirit approached, walking along an invisible path in the vacuum of space. As
he came close, the impossible Borg cube and Borg-verse melted away, replaced by Scrooge’s
sitting room. Q was actually happy to see the insipid Dutch fireplace.
“Are you telling me that by having a little fun with Jean-Luc, the Borg are going
to assimilate Q?”
The apparition lifted its arms. Q expected to see skeletal hands within the folds
of the dark cloak. But instead there were human hands. They lifted back the hood that
shrouded the spirit’s face. It was the face of an older man. His hair was equal parts
black and gray, as were his trim beard and mustache. He smiled the same annoying smile
everyone else had sported.
“You’re not the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come,” said Q.
The older man shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice deep but gentle. “Perhaps you
should consider me the Ghost of Alternate Timelines Yet to Come. Your alternate timeline,
of course. And to answer your question about ‘having a little fun with Jean-Luc,’
yes and no. Q’s intrusive behavior has always caused an unnecessary stress to the
fabric of the universe. You think you know everything. That’s dangerous to every other
living thing throughout the multiverse. We felt it was time to show you what could
happen from your meddling.”
“Rather melodramatic, don’t you think? Do you really believe that my putting mankind
on trial or having Jean-Luc face the Borg years before humans and Borg would have
naturally crossed paths led to the destruction of the Q Continuum?”
“Oh, you’ll believe what you want. But as we tried to tell you, you really understand
so little. Yes, this had everything to do with your meddling with mankind. And while
you and the rest of the Continuum will continue to find ways to be a bother, we have
faith that even Q can learn. Perhaps to even redeem themselves.”
Q snorted in derision. But suddenly the name Ayelborne fired across the equivalent
of his brainpan. Of course, the Organians—with Ayelborne in the human form he had
taken for the benefit of Kirk and Spock. We have underestimated them, thought Q. Such a quiet lot. We took that as a measure of their lack of power. Of
their will. That wouldn’t happen again.
“Do you want to see what causes the destruction of your precious Continuum?”
“I can hardly wait,” said Q, but he felt the tingle of fear at the back of his mind,
and he hated that he knew the Organian felt it as well.
Q now sat on the stage of an auditorium. There were a few thousand beings in the audience.
He recognized creatures from every member of the Federation. Then he noticed the pain.
His legs and arms ached. Throbbed. Looking down, he saw that he inhabited the body
of a child. Timothy, the former Borg-child. Then
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