EPILOGUE

Flashes of light erupted on the other side of her closed eyelids, leaving bright red afterimages. Muffled voices hovered over and around her. Aggie was frightened; she wanted to cover her eyes, to push the voices away, but her veins felt thick with cold sludge. Then either a moment or an eternity past—Aggie wasn't quite sure which—when she suddenly realized that the voices were familiar. She concentrated, trying to make out the words.

"She's coming awake!"

"Pulse rate rising, Doctor."

"Two years. I can't believe it."

"Two years, four months, twenty-seven days, to be exact, Captain."

"I stand corrected."

"Both of you get out of my Sick Bay! Now!"

The last voice sounded angry, but it made Aggie's heart jump for joy. She didn't just recognize the voice, she loved that voice! There had been a slow and steady blip noise in the background that spiked as her excitement grew.

Aggie felt a warm hand encircle her wrist then stroke the side of her face.

"Aggie? Can you hear me, my love?"

Yes! She cried. I can hear you, Len! But Aggie's lips wouldn't cooperate. They, too, seemed to be filled with slush. But it was melting. She could feel the bed beneath her warming steadily as well as the soft blanket that covered her body.

"Don't rush, darling. I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer."

It turned out, that "a little longer" was about two weeks after Aggie woke up in Sick Bay and one day before McCoy officially resigned from Star Fleet.

They were married in the arboretum.

Uhura and Chapel were bridesmaids, Sulu and Chekov were groomsmen, and Scotty provided the music, surprising everyone with a moving rendition of "Here Comes the Bride" on his bagpipes. Spock was best man (or "close enough" as McCoy had said in a theatrical whisper) and James T. Kirk, captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise, married them.

The celebration had been perfect despite Scotty and Chekov becoming rip-roaring drunk and debating loudly whether Russians or Scotts had first created warp gauges. Aggie had danced and hugged everyone at least twice, and before the newlyweds beamed over to the transport that would take them to Earth, Sulu had presented her with a small box.

Inside was a small seedling with two leaves and a single bud. Feeling the light on its leaves, the tiny pink bud blossomed, shy at first and then bolder as Aggie stroked it. Deep within the pink petals, she heard a soft mewing.

"I call it Alice Two," Sulu said with a shrug. "I heard you liked Alice so I . . hey, why are you crying?"

Aggie wiped at her face, embarrassed. "I just love it, Hikaru. Thank you so much."

Alice Two would have to remain in a clay pot above an apartment sink for nearly three months before McCoy announced that he'd found "their house." It was a beautiful two-story with a wrap around porch on the outskirts of a small Georgia town. The owner, an elderly lady who wished to move closer to her grandchildren, had sold it fully furnished right down to the rockers out front.

Alice Two grew tall in the flower garden as Aggie's belly grew large and round with their first child. To Len's surprise, it turned out to be a boy—James—followed two years later by twin daughters, Christine and Joanna. She had not been surprised by either pregnancy: she had always liked the idea of having a small Leonard wandering about, and she also liked the idea of twins, where neither child would ever be lonely.

Yes, life was perfect.

Aggie grabbed a watering can from the porch and gave it a shake so the water sloshed. "Ready for a drink?" she asked the Alice plant which shook its leaves in excitement. "Phew, me too," Aggie said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "It's gonna be another hot Georgia summer." She bent over to give Alice's leaves a stroke and froze. Her breath had come out in a white plume and the plant had let out an unhappy squeal, curling its slender leaves protectively against its body.

Aggie squeezed her eyes shut so hard that instantly all traces of light disappeared. She was wrapped in a thick, insulating darkness and a silence so thick that it felt like it was suffocating her. Drawing in a breath that burned her lungs with cold fire, Aggie forced her eyes open.

She was standing in the garden. Alice was impatiently nudging the fallen can at her feet. Sweat was dripping down her temples. She heard one of her children giggle from inside the house.

Everything was normal again.

The communicator vibrated in her pocket, distracting her, and she swung it open to read the text. She chuckled, Len had discovered a surprising talent for writing risqué Haiku poems.

Yes, life was perfect.

Aggie picked up the water can and poured the remaining water on the plant. Then she turned and headed back inside the house. Len would be home soon and her children were waiting inside.

Life couldn't be better than if it were a dream.

LIFE IS BUT A DREAM

A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear

Long has paled that sunny sky;
Echoes fade and memories die;
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die;

Ever drifting down the stream
Lingering in the golden gleam
Life, what is it but a dream?

Lewis Carroll

The End

Final Author's Note. . .

I'd like to thank you for reading my little story and hope it entertained you. Please leave me a comment if it did, they mean so much to me and they also let me know if I should publish my other stories. (The next story is titled Star Trek: The Accident, and it is set in a world slightly more canon). This last chapter was published on the last day of 2021, and I wish you the happiest of New Years.

May your light shine on forever.

Always,

Cooper