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Admiral Kathryn Janeway sat staring at a the screen on her desk, her mind light-years away. Only two months into the job and she was starting to regret it. Too many meetings. Too little travel. And too few nights spent with Jean-Luc. The one time he’d visited her rented house, he said loved it. She chose a house surrounded on three sides by vineyards, with him in mind, but he still had his duties and little time off. Vineyards or no.
A comms signal interrupted her reverie. “Janeway here.” The screen went black, and then as if summoned by her thoughts, Jean-Luc’s image appeared.
“Good afternoon, cherie.” The captain smiled a broad, toothy grin.
“Jean-Luc! What a nice surprise!” Kathryn reached for her ever-present coffee mug. “What’s the occasion?”
“Are you free tomorrow, after about thirteen-hundred hours?”
“You have time off?” Her heart skipped a beat. “How much time?”
“Just tomorrow afternoon and the next day, I’m afraid.”
She remembered those days long ago when her father surprised her mother with a brief visit. “You have to grab your moments while you can,” they both explained to her. Now she’s the one grabbing moments. “I’ll take it. Is the Enterprise coming to Sector Zero?”
Jean-Luc shook his head. “No, I’m coming by shuttle. Tomorrow is a special day for me, and I requested time off. The Enterprise will be out of shuttle range in a few days, or I’d stay longer.”
There was something in his expression that piqued her curiosity. “Special day?” This was the first she’d heard of it. “I have to reschedule a couple of meetings, but I’m all yours for the afternoon.”
“Excellent!” There was that grin again. “I’ll beam into the living room.”
“I can’t wait to see you.” She kissed her fingertips then touched them to his lips on the comm panel.
He matched the gesture, touching his fingertips to his screen. “Me too, cherie. Picard out.”
Her screen black again, Kathryn took a deep breath. What was the special day?
Jean-Luc beamed into the cozy living room of the rented cottage. It had been modern in the mid-twentieth century. Now it’s antique. “ Cherie, I’m here!” he shouted. He set down his overnight bag, then stepped into the bedroom. “ Cherie?”
He came back to the living room in time to see her rushing in through the French doors. “Jean-Luc! Sorry I missed you. I was out for just a moment…”
“It’s good to be home.” He hugged her, and she melted into the embrace. “Especially today.”
“Are you going to tell me why today is special?”
“Not yet.” Jean-Luc leaned over and pulled a bottle of wine from his bag. “Picard ‘47, a gift from my brother. He said it was a very a good year.” He showed her the label. “I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. But first, let’s have lunch. I’m famished.”
She followed him into the kitchen. “Okaaay.”
What was that in her voice? Skepticism? Disappointment? Annoyance? Did he want to know? He decided to stick to his plan. ”After lunch, I want to see how the rose bushes are coming along.”
“I was just watering them. I think they’ll survive." Kathryn wrapped her arms around his waist.
He walked to the replicator. “What’s for lunch?”
“Whatever you want. Today is your day… whatever it is.”
“Beef Bourguignon? I sent my mother’s recipes to the replicator.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it.”
There are many ways to avoid a conversation. Walking on a country road, pulling dead buds from flowering shrubs, cleaning dishes that are already clean, and when you run out of busy ways, there are silent ways. At the end of the day, on the Janeway-Picard back porch, the changing colors of the sunset echoed their many silent ways.
Kathryn’s silent ways led her in contradictory directions: patience, impatience, curiosity, hope, anxiety, and finally resignation. Other than the occasional sigh, she would remain silent. Jean-Luc would have to be the one to break the silence. It was his special day.
Finally, he spoke. “I have gone years without seeing a sunset. And then when I do, I think I should spend more time on Earth. But then another five or ten years would go by...” A cautious opening. A pawn taking one step on a chessboard. “And in the past six months… Thank you.”
“I haven’t even been home a year, and I’m starting to take it for granted. Thank you for the reminder.” Keep it light, Kathryn, she reminded herself. “I hope we can share many more sunsets.
He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “The day is almost over, and I haven’t told you why this day is special.”
“No you haven’t,” came the quiet, tentative reply. Since accepting her promotion to admiral, she had been steeling herself for the break-up talk. It never came, but with time apart, bonds can weaken. Hearts can forget. She knew this from experience.
He smiled at her obvious response, the glint in his eye erasing her doubts. “Let’s go inside and open that wine.”
He opened the door and she followed him to the kitchen. Jean-Luc opened the bottle of ‘47, and she grabbed two wine glasses. She held one as he poured. “Do I need a full glass before hearing what this is about?”
“I hope not.” He filled each glass half-way, then gave her one. “I’ll leave it to you to decide if it’s half-empty or half-full.” He swirled the wine in his glass, then sniffed its bouquet and took a sip. “My brother was right. ‘47 was a very good year. Coincidentally, it was also the year he took over the vineyard.”
“You thought he was bragging?” Katherine swirled the wine in the glass as she walked toward the sofa.
Jean-Luc sat down next to her, but poised on the edge of the sofa, as if he might need to jump up and run. “It was also the last time I saw him for twenty years. I wondered why he chose this vintage as a gift. I’m glad now that I didn’t say anything.” He held out his glass for a toast. “To sharing a special moment with a special person.”
Kathryn smiled. “To special moments.”
He sniffed the wine then let out a long breath. “Are you ready to know why I’m here?”
Kathryn suppressed a guffaw. “Ready? You’ve kept me on tenterhooks for hours!”
“I’m sorry.” He took a sip. “Perhaps I should have poured a full glass,” he muttered.
“You do difficult things every day, Jean-Luc,” she reminded him. “You know can tell me anything,” she took a hand in hers. “ So… why is today a special day for you?”
“Okay… here goes.” He took another sip. “Ten years ago today, I became a widower.”
“A widower?” Kathryn needed no wine. She swallowed her shock instead. “You were married once?”
“Yes, for about twenty-five minutes, but also for over forty years.”
“I should have known this would be something weird. Starfleet stories…” She sighed then leaned back, her arm draped over the sofa, instinctively possessing his space. “Is this something I would have read about in the circular or your logs?"
He nodded a little too vigorously. “Yes, yes. Did you read about the probe that rendered me unconscious?”
“I vaguely remember.”
He leaned back just a little. “It implanted memories of a culture on a planet called ‘Kataan”
The name resonated with Kathryn. “I remember now. They wanted you to tell others about them. Their planet was dying.”
“And then remember several months ago, when word got out that we were seeing each other? People told you that I could never have a serious relationship and that I hated children?”
“And you told me the gossips were wrong.” She tried to make sense of this non-sequitur.
“They would have been right until ten years ago today.”
“Ahh… So there was more to the probe.”
“Yes.” He appreciated her trying to make it easy for him. “Within those 20 minutes, I lived over forty years as a man named Kamin, part of the Ressik community. He was a husband, father, community member, and primitive scientist. I – he – watched the births of my… his two children, watched them grow up. My … his daughter became a scientist, and together we documented the death of the planet as the sun was going nova. My son became a musician. My wife was a wonderful, patient woman named Eline. We grew old together, and I watched her die.” Jean-Luc paused, choking on the words.
Kathryn squeezed his hand. “And you became a widower,” she concluded.
He nodded. “On her deathbed, she told me that I’d been a wonderful husband. I never thought I’d be a good husband, or a husband at all. It had never occurred to me.”
“But you were as Kamin.”
“In the beginning, I was Jean-Luc, trying to find a way to contact The Enterprise, and I did not consider her my wife. After I realized the Enterprise would not be coming back for me, I embraced Kamin’s identity. By the time the illusion ended, I had almost forgotten Jean-Luc. Then, at the end, I learned that everyone on that planet had been dead for a thousand years, including my children and grandchild. Until then, they were as alive to me as you are.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“The probe didn't just implant a cultural memory. It gave me a new identity. After I came to, everything was foreign. Even my own quarters seemed strange.” He sighed. “No, not strange. Empty.”
“No wife. No children.”
“I really loved them, Kathryn.” He looked into her eyes, searching for signs of understanding.
She started to feel a knot in her stomach. Maybe this was a break-up talk after all. “And every year, you remember them?”
“No, not every year. Every day . Part of me is still Kamin. His memories are my memories. I remember all of it as if it was yesterday. But who grieves for them? Is it Kamin or is it Jean-Luc?”
She smiled appreciatively. “You’re keeping them alive, as they intended.”
Jean-Luc stood up and started pacing. “I can’t claim credit for that. Their probe ensured I wouldn’t forget. But since that day, I have longed for that life, for that life that wasn’t really mine. I have tried to dismiss it, but it’s with me every day. And I have to ask myself, is Jean-Luc grieving for Kamin’s life, or does Kamin pity Jean-Luc for choosing career over family? For ten years, part of me – the Kamin part? – lived with a yearning I’d never known before that day. I even briefly had a relationship with a subordinate, and I considered pursuing a relationship with Beverly.”
Kathryn couldn’t hide her shock. A relationship with a subordinate?
“I’m not proud of that.” He bowed his head for a moment. “But then you showed up. You were the answer to that longing. But were you the answer to Kamin’s longing or mine? Everything feels so natural with you. Does Kamin or Jean-Luc feel that? When you told me you’ve always wanted children, was it Kamin who smiled, or was it me?”
“Did Kamin change Jean-Luc, take over Jean-Luc, or…” She patted the sofa.
She got it. He knew she would. He dutifully sat down. “Or did he merely awaken something in me that I’d repressed?” He drained the wine glass and then threw his head onto the back of the sofa. “I may never know."
“And you’re sharing the day with me because…”
“Because I thought you have a right to know. You should know that in a sense, I am two people.”
“Aren’t most of us? Were you ever an uncomplicated man?” she sipped the last of her wine, then set it down next to his.
He grabbed his wine glass and walked to the kitchen. He filled it to the top. “That probe chose me. Me. Why? I have nothing in common with that man.”
Kathryn followed and held out her glass. “To the top,” she commanded. He poured the wine, then they walked back to the sofa.
She snuggled close to him. “When I read your log, I assumed the probe was random. But if it wasn’t random…? Could it be that it sensed that Jean-Luc Picard is actually very much like Kamin?”
He could see it in her eyes. She looked at him the same way Eline did. “It’s very confusing,” was all he could say. He put an arm around her and drew her closer.
“It’s my turn to confess something,” Kathryn took a long swig of wine then relaxed into his embrace.
“Oh?”
“On the day we met, I expected General Patton – aloof, dignified, impatient – and I found this wonderful, approachable man – kind and wise and humble. I was instantly smitten. But in my vulnerable state, just after returning from the Delta Quadrant, homesick for my crew, would I have fallen for anybody who was nice to me? Or did I fall for you because of your stature in Starfleet? My ship had been decommissioned, so I had no stature at all. Which Kathryn fell for you? The lonely, lost soul or the hero-worshipper? Was I two people?”
Jean-Luc pursed his lips, giving some thought to this news as he drank half his wine. “After reading your logs, I was an admirer, too. I guess that Jean-Luc the admirer and Kamin the lost soul felt the same way.”
“We found each other, and it was good,” Kathryn whispered. “Why complicate things?”
He stroked her hair as he studied her eyes. “After I met you. I stopped dreaming about Eline.”
Kathryn smiled. “I stopped dreaming about Mark.”
“But I haven’t stopped dreaming about the children.” He held up his wine glass. “Is my glass half-empty or half-full?”
“Does it matter?” Kathryn held her glass next to his. It was also half-empty, or perhaps half-full. She poured the remaining wine into his glass and set hers down. “I think it’s time to go to bed.”
Yes, Jean-Luc realized. He had found his Eline. And he resolved to do his best to give her whatever she wanted.
THE END