I stared in awe at the landscape, my eyes transfixed by the scene before me. The Doubles' homeworld was truly breathtaking. Coarse sand crunched under my feet as I breathed in the crisp, cold air.

A sapphire-blue sky glistened overhead, giving way to a horizon of craggy mountains. A river, seeming to have burst straight from the planet's heart, curled its way across the desert, leaving a trail of verdant life in its wake.

My brother and I glanced at each other. This place reminded us of somewhere. Somewhere we could never again set foot—home.

That's right, home. The Continuum may be the Q's home now, but it wasn't always. We were mortals once—living, breathing, dreaming, inventing, loving, grieving, ruthless, caring, loyal mortals—until I came along, that is.

I shook myself back to reality. Now was not the time to reminisce.

The Double snapped his fingers.

At his command, a series of low-laying buildings appeared, marring the pristine beauty. With a sinking heart, I realized the entire vista was in fact holographic.

"Well," I broke the silence, "where is everybody?"

"They'll come," he reassured me. "What do you think of our planet?"

What do I think of his planet? That it's one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen? That it reminds me of where I grew up? Of the world I destroyed for my own power—shattering my people in the process?

"It's nice," I dismissed. "The sky's pretty."

"Umhmm," added my brother. "Nice sky."

The Double turned away from us, wondering no doubt how we could say so little of the magnificence surrounding us. It was a good question—one he couldn't possibly know the answer to.

Soon enough, figures began to emerge from the complex, forming a crescent around the three of us.

"Who are you?" demanded the lead, instinctively addressing me.

"She's the Timekeeper!" cried our Double. "The Timekeeper. The real-life Timekeeper. She's real!"

Astonishment rippled through the semicircle.

"The Timekeeper?" they said, speaking as one.

"Yes, I'm the Timekeeper. Get over it already."

"Then the Q are real as well?" continued the first.

"Of course we're real." I was starting to lose patience. "How can you not know that?"

"Respectfully, you did not know of our existence, Timekeeper," the original speaker pointed out.

"Respectfully?" my brother interjected. "Humph!"

"Q." I elbowed him. I may have been losing my patience, but Q never had any to begin with.

"Q? He is also a Q?"

"He's my brother," I explained.

"You have family? There's nothing in our legends about the Timekeeper having family."

I sighed. This was going to take a while.

"Alright, Doubles." I settled into my chair—a surprisingly comfortable pouf sort of thing.

The inside of the complex was about as unremarkable as its exterior. The rooms were dark, almost cave-like and quite sparsely furnished. This one, which appeared to be a conference hall of some kind, was completely lacking in all furniture save for the squatty chairs we were currently sitting on.

"Let's start over. What do you, or do you not know about your origins? Actually, skip that. Why do you call yourselves Doubles?"

Silence.

The Doubles looked at each other. They were the Doubles. The reason why has never crossed their minds. Why should it have?

"Okay. You know you're half Changeling, but what's the other half? The solid half? Again, I ask, what does your name mean?"

"The Q are our other half?" they exclaimed in unison. "But how? We know so little about you."

"I see that. Let me go from the beginning."

"Hold on," Q objected. "You're just going to tell them?"

"Yes I am. If it wasn't for our peoples' history, Q, the Doubles wouldn't even exist. They might as well know how they came to be." I turned my attention back to my audience. "Long ago…"

Thought I was going to tell you too, did you? No, not quite yet. You still have a while to wait.

"And what of them now?" inquired one of the Doubles as I concluded my story. "The Q and Changelings?"

I paused. I didn't like what I was about to say. It was the reality—and I didn't like it. "We despise one another. The Founders hate us with a vengeance and the feeling is pretty much mutual. Each side would like nothing better than to destroy the other."
"What stops them?" queried another. "With your powers, surely the Q would have no problem defeating the so-called Founders."

"Me," I answered simply. "I stop them."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'!" I was just as outraged as I sounded. "Because I don't want my own flesh and blood tearing each other apart. You of all people should understand that, Doubles."

"But you are a Q."

"So?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because it's my fault! We hate each other because of what I did. Because of…" I stopped myself. "I may not be a Double, but I consider the Founders my people just as much as I do the Q. And I won't let harm come to either one."

The Doubles seemed oddly pleased by my outburst.

"Yes, according to the legends you're like that."

I decided not to get into that statement—there wasn't much point. "I think it's time to talk about something else. Do you have more of your residence to show me?"

"Oh, please do," joined my brother. "This is getting frightfully dull. I would've left hours ago if it wasn't for you."

"Just cope, Q," I told him in my most unsympathetic big-sister voice. "You're not going anywhere."

The Doubles led us down yet another passageway. This compound had the most unusual layout. Practicality clearly wasn't high on the priority list. We approached a cavernous hall, diamond-shaped for some reason.

The lead Double motioned for us to enter.

"In here are the few relics we have of our first homeworld—the planet you called…"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. What do you have left?"

"Only a select number of—"

I cut them off. "What is that?"

I made my way across the room to a small case occupying the far corner.

It was a comb. Gingerly, I picked it up ignoring the Doubles' many objections. The comb, made of an alloy ten times more dazzling than gold, sparkled in the dim light. Thirteen stones studded its crest—the fourteenth empty. Back in the day, this would have been a family heirloom.

I flipped it over to read the inscription on the back.

"Q, this is ours. Our family's."

Without asking their permission, I reached up and tucked it into my chocolate-brown locks. I was not the first in my family to wear this comb, but I'd known a long time ago I would be the last.

I must admit I was starting to find this tour just as boring as my brother. Yes, I was delighted the Doubles were alive and hopeful for what our future could be—that their two halves would eventually come to peace. Perhaps ever the Doubles themselves would be the ones to bring that about, but something made me hesitate. A little nagging voice at the back of my mind told me to look closer.

I had to wonder if that comment the drone Double had made on Enterprise was really as insignificant as I'd dismissed it to be. Single. That's what he'd called Captain Picard. Was it simply an insolent remark made by an uneducated youth? Or were the Doubles just as lost as we were?

One other thing that bothered me: if the Doubles had no memory of us, how did they know they were half Changeling?

"What's in there?" I inquired as we passed a small, slightly suspicious door.

The Doubles shrugged, almost as one. "Nothing important. It's just an old lab we don't use anymore—full of outdated equipment."

"I'd still like to see it. Outdated might be like the stuff I used to use."

"Actually," corrected another, "it was cleared out recently."

"Too bad." I glanced back at the door, making a mental note of its location. That was certainly something to investigate.

"I've been meaning to ask"—I changed the subject—"how, young Double, did you get assimilated by the Borg?"

"Well…" He looked rather uncomfortable.

"That is a fine question," agreed the others. "How did you become assimilated?"

The Double sighed. "It was an accident. I, well, I ran away to see what I could learn about our past, to see what I could learn about you, Timekeeper. The Borg were an… unforeseen difficulty."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that. An unforeseen difficulty. Ha! Maybe the Doubles were just as innocent as they let on.

"Doubles," I paused, debating how to word what I was about to say, "I know you've isolated yourselves for so long, that you avoid contact with the outside world, but how would you feel about changing that?"

The Doubles stiffened.

"Your two halves—we Q and the Changelings—have grown to detest each other's every breath. You may very well be the only ones who can bring us together."

"No."

I stared at them. Was that it?

"No," they replied in harmony. "Perhaps once we were hybrids, but now we are our own species. Your fates are of little concern to us."

They spoke coolly, their voices void of emotion. It was a final, resolute, unshakable proclamation.

They did not care.

None of us cared.

Only me.

They filed out one by one until my brother and I were alone. He gave me a pointed look as if to say, "I told you so," before vanishing as well.

I was about to leave myself when I remembered the door—that mysterious little door. Slowly, I made my way back down the corridor. I still wanted to believe the best of the Doubles, but it was getting harder by the moment.

I pushed the door open, tiptoeing inside.

The lab I found within was many things. Abandoned was not one of them. Monitors beeped, equipment whirred, notifications flashed—all the signs of busy working lab. Why had they lied about it?

Warily, I advanced. Though the lab was brimming with all-and-sundry contraptions, there was nothing worth hiding.

An itch tickled the back of my neck, my telepathic senses crying out to me. Something was amiss.

As if in a trance, I approached a nearby cabinet, instinctively sliding it open.

Inside were all my answers.

The unarguable confirmation to my reservations. The explanation of my suspicions. The answer to every spoken and unspoken query that had crossed my mind since I first set foot here.

Inside, within an overly ornate box, floated an infant Changeling.

It explained everything—why the Doubles knew they were part Changeling, why they didn't want me in the lab, all the questions regarding the Founders—everything.

I glanced down at the little creature. I couldn't leave it here. Who knows what they'd do to it.

Grabbing the box, I tucked it into my pocket. I'd simply give it to the Founders next time I saw them.

Reluctantly, I retreated from the lab, my three hearts weighing heavily in my chest.