Jethro Gibbs' return to consciousness began slowly. As if from a great distance he heard a buzzing which gradually resolved itself into the sound of voices,

"What do you think?"

"I think it is what it seems to be."

"Are you sure?"

"I have just said that I think it is what it seems to be."

"You know how clever they can be."

"Indeed but there is a scar from an appendectomy …"

"A what?"

"It is an operation to remove the appendix. May I continue?"

"Sorry."

"There's some deterioration in the knee joints. And I detect some mended bone fractures."

"Real?"

"I believe so. It would be hard to fake them."

The voices faded away for a moment or two but then returned.

"I believe our visitor is coming round."

Gibbs wasn't sure about this but took it as a signal to try and open his eyes. After a few failed attempts he managed to blink them open. Gibbs wasn't particularly accident prone but he had seen more than his fair share of hospitals: he was puzzled to realise he didn't recognise this one as being in DC. He decided to concentrate instead on the other two occupants of the room, a man about his own age and a younger man he guessed to be around 30 years old. The younger man began to lower his legs to the ground from the bed he was lying on.

"You'll stay where you are, Anthony," said the older man severely.

"Ducky," came the whining reply, "I'm fine."

"Then you can be fine from that bed. You can perfectly well question our visitor from there."

"Fine," said Anthony, "Is it OK if I sit up?"

"If you wish," said Ducky graciously.

Anthony sat up and leaned towards Gibbs, "How you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a two-ton truck," said Gibbs.

Anthony looked puzzled and glanced across at Ducky who shrugged. The young man reached into a pocket and drew out something which looked like a cell phone and swiped his fingers across it. "Ah," he said, "Yeah. I guess I know the feeling."

"You will be fine," said Ducky, "The after effects will dissipate rapidly, I assure you."

"Ducky!" said Anthony warningly.

"I apologise," said Ducky as he backed away.

"What do you remember?" asked Anthony.

"Not much," said Gibbs, "I was in my cabin, chopping wood … then things went black. There was some shouting. Lights flashing. A bang. What happened? Did the axe head come off?"

"No," said Anthony. "At least, I don't think so."

"Which hospital is this?" asked Gibbs.

"Ah, well … it's not exactly a hospital," said Anthony cautiously.

"Clinic then," said Gibbs. His head was aching a little and he didn't want to split hairs. "I'm guessing it's not in DC."

"No," agreed Anthony. "Definitely not DC."

"Is your head troubling you?" asked Ducky observing Gibbs squinting slightly.

"Some," said Gibbs.

"I should have realised," said Ducky. He held something which looked like a probe to Gibbs' forehead.

"Hey!" said Gibbs in a startled tone and then, "Hey," again in a gentler voice as he realised that the pain had disappeared.

"Who are you?" asked Anthony.

"Tell me who you are first," demanded Gibbs.

"I'm Anthony DiNozzo … most people, apart from Ducky here, call me Tony. And this is Dr Donald Mallard …"

"Known as Ducky for obvious reasons," Ducky chipped in.

"I'm Gibbs. Jethro Gibbs."

"And …" Tony hesitated, "What was the date that you were chopping the wood?"

Gibbs sighed as he realised that perhaps he'd been out of it for some days, "July 12th," he said.

"And … in which year?" asked Tony.

"Do I have a concussion?" Gibbs asked. "Do you want me to tell you the name of the President?"

Tony and Ducky both looked puzzled. "Do you know it?" asked Tony.

"Sure," said Gibbs, "I keep up with things."

"I'm sure you do," said Ducky soothingly, "But, for now, the year of your … wood chopping will be enough."

"2017."

"OK," said Tony. "I guess it's a good thing you're already lying down, Gibbs, Jethro Gibbs."

"What's going on?" asked Gibbs. "Where is this place? I need to talk to my Director."

"Your Director?" asked Tony.

"Yes. The Director of NCIS. You can't mess with Federal Agents, you know."

"I'm sure not," said Ducky, "However …"

"NCIS?" asked Tony.

"Yes," said Gibbs brusquely.

"How long have you worked with them?" asked Tony.

"About 25 years. It was NIS when I joined," said Gibbs.

Tony laughed and Gibbs gave him a half-hearted glare, "What's so funny?" he demanded.

"This is a NIS ship," Tony replied.

"Doesn't feel like a boat," said Gibbs. "And NIS doesn't have ships."

"They do now," said Tony.

"Since when?" asked Gibbs.

Tony shrugged, "Since about 2315."

"What time is it now?" asked Gibbs.

"What?" asked Tony, "Oh, no, not the time 2315 – the year."

"What?" said Gibbs.

"The year 2315," said Ducky helpfully.

"You trying to tell me that this is the year 2315?" demanded Gibbs.

"No, no," said Ducky. "NIS have had their own craft for over a hundred years now."

"We're in the year 2417," said Tony.

Gibbs gazed at Ducky and Tony and clenched his fists, "Ha ha," he managed eventually, "Very funny. You've had your fun, why don't you just tell me what pills I have to take and I'll be on my way."

"I wish that were possible," said Ducky sadly. "You will, of course, return to your optimum health quite rapidly. You need have no fear about that but telling you that this is 'all a joke' is, I fear, impossible. Let me explain …"

"Ducky," said Tony, "Let me …"

"I am perfectly willing …" began Ducky.

"I'll do it," said Tony with the first hint of firmness he had shown. Ducky nodded compliantly and Tony leaned towards Gibbs once more, "I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, Gibbs, Jethro Gibbs …" he began.

"Gibbs, just Gibbs is fine," said Gibbs. He then added hastily, "Just call me Gibbs."

Tony nodded, "Ok, Gibbs. This is July 29th in 2417. This is a Naval Investigative Service vessel on patrol … well, I can't actually tell you where. Just let me say that we are many light years away from Earth."

"We're in space?" asked Gibbs.

Tony looked at his device again and checked something, "I guess you could call it that," he said. "I'm the captain of the Lucilla Gomez …"

"Lucilla Gomez?" asked Gibbs.

"Named after the first female president …"

"Good," said Gibbs, "'Bout time a woman made President."

"Of the world," said Tony.

"Oh," said Gibbs.

"Like I said, I'm the captain. You've met Ducky our doctor. You will meet the rest of the crew later: Ensign Eleanor Bishop – she's our science officer and archivist, and Lieutenant James Palmer our navigator. I'm sure you want to know how you arrived here …"

"You're on the money there," said Gibbs sarcastically.

There was the customary hesitation while Tony looked something up. "Well," he said, "I can't tell you exactly how you got here. We were on a heading to take us back to Earth when we picked up a reading which showed that some sort of craft was in difficulties. We tracked the source of that reading and found you in the vehicle."

"Not quite as simple as that," said Ducky severely, "You risked your life rescuing Gibbs. The air supply had run out."

"It was fine, Ducky," said Tony. "It was like a training exercise."

"That may be so," said Ducky, "But it was less than 24 hours since your heart/lung transplant."

Gibbs gave an undignified squawk but Ducky and Tony were absorbed in their argument and ignored him.

"Ducky, you know that only a twelve-hour period of rest is recommended," said Tony, "And it had been fifteen hours."

"I can still remember," said Ducky, "When a three-day period of recuperation was stipulated. And I believe that 24 hours is still a reasonable period to wait."

"Excuse me," said Gibbs, "What are you talking about?"

"I was merely explaining that Anthony should have been lying on his bed resting from his operation rather than racing around the universe in perilous conditions."

Tony seemed to decide to ignore all mention of heart/lung transplants, "We brought you back to the Lucilla and Ducky looked after you."

Gibbs shook his head, still trying to come to terms with what he was being told. "So how did I get here?"

"We don't know. But you're not the first. It seems that there's a way that some people slip through," said Tony. "Although I think you've come the furthest. And the first to be NIS."

Gibbs decided to humour him, "And what do you do with people like me?"

"Dippers," said Tony, "We call you dippers."

"Because you dip through time and space," said Ducky helpfully.

"We send you back," said Tony. "We know how to do that; we just haven't figured out a way to stop it happening in the first place."

"I've never heard about this," said Gibbs suspiciously.

"Ah," said Tony, "Well, we do some …"

"Memory adjustment," said Ducky, "It wouldn't do for people to remember what had happened."

"And that works?" asked Gibbs.

"Sure," said Tony. "Ducky's an expert."

"How do I know this isn't some sort of joke, a hoax?" asked Gibbs.

"This is a NIS vessel," said Tony, "We don't do jokes."

Gibbs looked at Tony and thought that might not be true, there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"But," continued Tony, "You could just look out the window." He waved a hand and a screen over a window rolled back to reveal a distant view of a planet. "That's Persephone 327A," said Tony. "Which means that Jimmy has taken us off course again."

Gibbs was often silent but it was usually out of choice rather than being struck dumb in amazement.

"Shall I perform the necessary memory adjustments now?" asked Ducky, "While you attend to Mr Palmer's navigational adjustments?"

"Well," said Tony looking at Gibbs thoughtfully, "I don't mind if we go the scenic route this time. I can leave Jimmy to sort it out. And it would be kinda interesting to learn what it was like to be a NIS … sorry, NCIS agent back in the beginning – it would make Ellie's day. And Gibbs here seems to be taking it all calmly. Perhaps he'd like to stick around?"

NCISNCIS

"What does NIS do?" asked Gibbs. He had been given a tour of the Lucilla and was now in the mess hall eating the best steak he had had in years.

"What it says on the tin," said Tony as he swallowed an enormous mouthful of pizza. "Naval Investigative Service. The Criminal part got dropped fifty years ago. We're more of a scientific body now although we get called on to investigate crime sometimes."

"Why'd it get dropped?" asked Gibbs.

"Not much crime in the 25th century. Not much call for it to be investigated. You know, most dippers, when they get over the panic, either expect us to be living in a Utopia or some kind of apocalyptic nightmare. Depends on what sort of movies or science fiction they'd read."

"Not really into that sort of stuff," said Gibbs. "Read HG Wells The Time Machine when I was a kid. Scared the hell out of me."

"Huh," said Tony, "I'll have to look that one up."

"So which is it?" asked Gibbs.

"Excuse me?"

"Utopia or hell?"

"Oh, somewhere in between, I guess. There's no hunger. Disease can mostly be cured. Hasn't been a war for decades. Life's full of opportunities."

"You mentioned going back to Earth. What's it like?" asked Gibbs.

"It's fine. The planet was saved a long time ago. I reckon it's probably in better shape than you remember it."

"And what do people do?" asked Gibbs, "If life is so perfect."

"It's not perfect," said Tony, "And we know now that it shouldn't be. When people go for perfection, things go wrong."

"So people work?"

"Sure. They work, study, take breaks, travel, create … all sorts of things. We usually study until our thirties."

"Thirties?"

"If we want to. I did three degrees, took a year off to explore MACS0647-JD, did four years of teaching and then decided to join NIS. That was fifteen years ago."

"Fifteen years? How old are you? How old is Ducky?" asked Gibbs.

"Ducky's 130. I'm coming up to 60."

"What? That's impossible," said Gibbs.

Tony frowned as he did the sums, "Yeah, I forgot the 5 years I took to bring up Berry."

"Berry?"

"My daughter."

"And do people still get … married?"

"If they want to. I'm coming up to the third renewal."

"Renewal?"

"If people want to get married, they do it for ten years at a time. With an option to renew every ten years," explained Tony, "Seems to be a good system."

"Where's your wife?"

"She's doing archaeology on Mars. We'll pick her up on our way through. Go see Dickon."

"Dickon?"

"Our grandson. Worst thing about being on this assignment has been being away from him. Although we keep in contact."

"Skype?" suggested Gibbs as he remembered something his co-workers talked about.

Tony gazed into his device again and laughed, "I guess. Something like that but this is better. You can smell people the other end, and there's almost a sense of touch."

Gibbs nodded, "Could've done with something like that when I was on deployment."

"Gibbs," said Tony, "Like I said. Most dippers are in a panic when they arrive here. Not just the disorientation – that's less than you might expect. I figure the Sci-Fi prepares them some. They panic because they're apart from their loved ones. You, I don't get that with you."

"Nobody to miss me," said Gibbs simply. "Lost my family a long time ago. My Dad's dead, he was the last. I have friends but work is my life. And that can't go on for ever."

Tony nodded thoughtfully but took another bite of pizza rather than replying.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs was shown to a cabin and invited to rest or use the information device to do research. Gibbs nodded politely but found that he preferred to gaze out of the window and watch the stars go by. He wondered what a rejuvenated Earth looked like.

An hour after he had been shown to the cabin, he had a visitor.

"Gibbs, you puzzle me," said Tony.

"Lot of people say that about me," said Gibbs.

"We looked at NCIS records."

"And?"

"You went missing in July 2017. Never found."

"Does that mean you sent me back wrong?"

"No. We don't make mistakes. And we've always traced the people we sent back," said Tony.

"Maybe the records are wrong," suggested Gibbs.

"The records are thorough. And we were able to run tests on your DNA and blood. Pretty basic compared to what we do nowadays but conclusive."

"What you mean, conclusive?"

"They confirm that you are who you say you are. And that helps."

"How so? Why would you suspect me of making it up? Thought you said there was no crime?"

"I said, not much," said Tony.

Gibbs thought back to the conversation he had overheard when he was coming round. "But you get people pretending to be … dippers?"

"Yes, we do. People trying to infiltrate. We can usually tell just by a medical exam. People from the past have scars or diseases which we wouldn't have nowadays."

"I'm guessing you don't have a scar from your transplant?" said Gibbs.

"No, not from any of them," said Tony. "But you do have scars."

"But people fake them?"

"Sometimes. Has been known for people to allow their bones to be broken and not use modern treatments but let them heal naturally," Tony suppressed a shudder at the barbarity of the process.

"I'm not faking," said Gibbs.

"No. Ducky's sure that your scars are genuine. And we've got your record from NCIS. You're stubborn, difficult, opinionated but you're loyal and honest."

"And the people – the false dippers – aren't?"

"No, they're not."

"And they're dangerous?"

"Yes, they are. We believe they're from a distant galaxy and they're after our resources. Which we would happy to share or trade but diplomats haven't convinced them yet."

"Them?"

"The Kermites."

"Kermites?" said Gibbs blankly, "That sounds like …"

Tony looked embarrassed. "Yeah. We didn't know. We made contact about a hundred years ago. They came from the Kerm galaxy, quite reclusive and, like I said, it's taking a while to get on good terms with them. So we called them Kermites." Gibbs tried to keep a straight face. "And then one of the dippers, a real dipper, laughed when she found out. Told us about …"

"The Muppets," said Gibbs, "There's a frog called Kermit."

"Yes," said Tony bitterly, "And the Kermites have green skin … and they speak in croaks. If we'd known, we'd have given them different names but it's too late to change now. We'd have to explain why."

Gibbs laughed and Tony reluctantly joined in. When Gibbs was able to speak again he asked, "Why'd you need a lung transplant?"

Tony nodded approvingly, "We're out here on a scientific research trip but also keeping an eye out for Kermite incursion," he glared at Gibbs to warn him not to laugh again, "And we came across some diamond smugglers. They used old fashioned weapons and I got hit in the chest."

"Ouch," said Gibbs.

"Oh well," said Tony philosophically, "Made Ducky's day. Got to do some real medicine. You know, some medics never see blood … or not as much as Ducky saw that day."

"But you're OK?"

"Sure. Takes a lot to kill someone in the 25th century."

"Good to know," said Gibbs although he wasn't sure it was good to know. He asked something else which had been puzzling him. "Why haven't you sent me back yet?"

Tony paused before replying, "I'm not sure. Might be the NIS connection. Might be the way you handled the whole thing although for a while that made me suspicious. I guess I was curious about what it was like to be in NCIS so long ago. I meant it when I said that Ellie will go nuts for you."

"And why did you tell me about the Kermites?" asked Gibbs, his lips twitched a little.

"When I found out that you've disappeared off the old records," said Tony, "I wondered if you stayed here. Gave me this crazy idea."

"Go on," said Gibbs.

"Technology does a lot in the 25th century," said Tony, "But it doesn't stop us thinking for ourselves and relying on instincts. And I reckon I've got good instincts, especially about people. Seems to me that you're angry and you're sad."

"So? That's not unusual," said Gibbs.

"I looked at the old NCIS rags – you'll be up for mandatory retirement soon and I don't figure you for someone who'll look forward to that."

"Like you said, mandatory," said Gibbs blandly.

"Yeah, although you'd fight it tooth and nail. But it seems to me that you might like the 25th century. I looked up where your cabin was … is. Out in the wilds, I'm guessing you like it partly because it's away from people but also because it's out in the wilds, where you can be close to nature. You'd like our green Earth."

"I guess so."

"And there'd be things you could do. Lots of people want to know what it's like to live with Nature – you could tell them. And you liked to sail – not many people have that skill nowadays."

"So I could be a living museum exhibit?" asked Gibbs with a touch of bitterness.

"You could be, of course," said Tony choosing to ignore the bitterness, "And you might enjoy it," he coughed, "Ducky mentioned you have some problems with your knees … he could probably sort those out. There's a reason people don't retire here unless they want to." He looked at Gibbs hopefully.

"Hmm," said Gibbs.

"And you might be able to help with the crime we do have. You have recent experience after all."

"Your battle with the Kermites," suggested Gibbs.

"Yes, although if you keep grinning when you say that word, I'll get Ducky to wipe your memory lickety-split."

"Lickety-split?" asked Gibbs.

"I looked it up," said Tony sheepishly, "Thought it might make you feel at home. It means …"

"I know what it means," said Gibbs, "And no, I don't want my memory wiped quite yet."

"So you'll stay?"

"I don't know."

"Of course," said Tony pensively, "As it looks as if you never resigned, technically you're still employed. I could order you back to duty."

"You could?" said Gibbs sceptically.

"I could," said Tony firmly, "I outrank you."

"Well, in that case, I'd better stay. I always obey orders," he lied.