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been expecting this.” He had thought it had been clear to her; he tried now vainly to recall the conversation, the precise words they had used to state that they would marry once he retired, but the specific memory eluded him.

“I haven’t been expecting this.” Her smile vanished, replaced by an expression of concern. “Jim, you know the time we spend together is special to me, but… we never said anything about legalities.”

“I’m saying it now. I love you, Carol. I always thought we’d be together once I retired. That we’d settle down. You even said Marcuslabs could use someone like me—”

“As for Marcuslabs, I’ll hire you in a heartbeat, if you want. You’re someone with connections who could go all over the galaxy facilitating the creation of new research stations. Plenty of travel, a chance to practice your diplomacy. But I wouldn’t be able to travel with you.” She let go a long breath. “Jim, I love you, but you couldn’t settle down if you wanted to. You’ll be on the move, restless, looking for excitement until the day you die. If you’re suggesting we buy a little condo somewhere and take up housekeeping—it’d be death for both of US.” “I see,” he said quietly. “Jim, don’t be hurt.”

“No… no, you’re right,” he admitted weakly; what was worse, he meant it. Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of his mind, he had seen this very scene played out before, had known it was coming—yet he still felt as though the deck had been pulled from under his feet. “I’m not hurt, just… tired. Looking for someplace to rest. It’s been a tough last mission.”

“Then come see me. We should talk.” Behind him, the door chimed. He glanced toward it, then back at Carol. “I have to go. Firewatch parties.”

“I love you, Jim.”

He touched the screen as if to take her hand, to hold on to her—on to the present, but he could sense her and time slipping away from him, like the ship on which he stood.

The screen darkened; Kirk turned toward the door and said, “Come.”

Spock entered, carrying two packages—a smaller stacked atop a larger, both precisely wrapped in colored paper. He hesitated, looking reserved and somewhat awkward, just inside the door.

“What’s this?” Kirk gestured with feigned surprise at packages. th’e’A gift, sir.” Spock handed him the larger box. “Perhaps it is not the custom; but it seemed… somehow appropriate to mark the end of our years of service together.” Kirk smiled faintly, touched, and sat on his bunk to open it. He removed the paper carefully; inside the box, swathed in tissue, was a gleaming brass-and-polished-wood sextant—a centuries-old tool sailors once used to navigate by the stars. “To help me find my way?” Kirk asked lightly, running his fingers over it in admiration. “Spock—thank you.

It’s beautiful ….” ,, ,,

As he spoke, the door chimed once more. Come,

Jim said, and McCoy entered.

There was a wide grin on the doctor’s face and two

dust-covered flagons in his arms; but to Jim, the smile

seemed forced. Purple shadows had gathered beneath

McCoy’s ice blue eyes; he looked as haggard as Kirk felt after the hardships endured on Rura Penthe. My God, Jim thought. He old… and so am I. “Well,” McCoy said cheerfully, holding up the flasks. “I see the Vulcan beat me to it. I, too, came bearing gifts.”

“Two bottles? I hope they’re both for me.” Kirk squinted at them, wishing he had his spectacles.

“Not in the least.” The doctor lifted one and blew on the label; Kirk raised his hands to protect himself from the approaching cloud of dust. “This one’s oldest, so it’s yours.”

Kirk took the bottle and smiled at the date on the label.

“For auld lang syne,” said McCoy, with the slightest quaver in his voice; or was it Jim’s imagination? “And this one—”

He blew on the second bottle’s label and handed it to Spock.

“Why, Dr. McCoy,” the Vulcan said with mild surprise. “This is alcohol.”

“Good old-fashioned Saurian brandy, to be precise,” the doctor said with gusto. “Drink it and remember me—and the importance of loosening up once in a while.”

“I shall,” Spock replied. “If you will attempt to recall the importance of logic when you gaze upon this.” He proffered McCoy the smaller package.

McCoy unwrapped it and lifted out a palm-sized circle of burnished metal, on which was etched an intricate maze of geometric design. He frowned at it. “It’s lovely, Spock …. But… what is it?” “A Vulcan mandala. One contemplates it to quiet the

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mind and emotions, in preparation for the reception of logic.”

“Oh. Thank you.” McCoy slipped it into his jacket pocket. “I’ll be sure to look at it every time I need a little logic. Now that you won’t be around to provide it for me…

“Gentlemen.” Kirk rose and went over to the dresser. “I’m no good at wrapping things, but… these are for you.” He handed the small paper book to Spock.

Spock looked down at the book and allowed the merest ghost of a smile to pass over his features. “Horatio Hornblower. Thank you, Captain.” “To remember me by,” Jim said.

McCoy lifted a brow. “Don’t you think Don Juan would have been a little more appropriate?”

“Watch your tongue, Doctor, or I’ll keep your present,” Kirk retorted, gesturing toward the mantel clock. “I was tempted to keep it anyway.” He opened the crystal face and set the minute hand back to the hour; the clock began again to chime, a rich, melodic sound that echoed faintly off the bulkheads.

Lips parted with delight, McCoy listened, clearly enchanted. “To remember the good times.” Kirk smiled. “Jim… it’s beautiful. I think that’s the finest present anyone’s ever given me—with the exception of my grandkids, of course.” The doctor’s expression grew suddenly somber as he gazed up at his friends. “I can’t imagine what life will be like without you two. It isn’t really ending, is it? After all these years, it can’t be over …. ” Doctor.” Jim’s tone grew

“Don’t get maudlin on me, firm. They had a long night ahead of them—one in

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which he’d be asked a hundred times what he was going to do with himself now that he didn’t have the Enterprise; and a hundred times, he would have to reply graciously. He didn’t need to start out the evening depressed. “And stop talking like we’ll never see each other again.”

“Well—when will we see each other?”

“How about tomorrow? I was thinking of heading to Yosemite, and thought you two might enjoy going there with me again—”

“Can’t do it,” McCoy said glumly. “I’m going to stay with Joanna and her family, and we’re talking about heading off to do some research out in the B’renga sector. And Spock’s headed home—”

“Home?” Jim glanced swiftly at his first officer for verification.

Spock gave a single nod. “I am… discussing the possibility of doing some diplomatic work with Ambas-sador Sarek. I shall be returning to Vulcan tomorrow. I am afraid I cannot accompany you to Yosemite.”

“I see,” Jim said softly. And for the first time, he realized that he was not simply parting for a few months’ shore leave, but saying good-bye to his two best friends.

A sudden indescribable loneliness overtook him, mel-ancholy coupled with premonition. He flashed on an image of himself, years before, seated in front of a crackling campfire in Yosemite Park, grinning up at his two friends’ faces, orange with reflected firelight.

That’s right; he had scaled El Capitan, the most rugged peak in the park, and had fallen. And Spock had

him. And Bones, outraged as usual by his captain’s risk-taking, had asked him whether he had been trying to kill himself.

It was funny, Kirk had answered then, but even as I was falling, I knew I wouldn’t die… because the two of you were with me. I’ve always known I’ll die alone.

Spock would no longer be there to catch him, nor McCoy to sputter in outrage. The thought that he was losing all that was dearest to him—Carol, Spock, Bones, the Enterprise—finally struck home. He was alone now, unfettered, moorless.

A shudder passed through him. Someone walking on my grave…

But the thought seemed too self-pitying. He dismissed it resolutely, forced himself to smile. “Well… we will be getting together again at some point.” He rose. “Gentlemen. Thank you for the gifts. I think it’s time we were off to the festivities.”

“The last firewatch.” McCoy drew a breath that caught in his throat as he studied his two friends. “Are we really ready for this?”

“Not at all,” Jim answered honestly. “Let’s go.”