Children of Time

DVD, DS9 S5 (Children of Time)

High concept is the name of the game with this one, and it's undeniably a good'un: the crew crash on a Gamma Quadrant world to find their own 200 year old descendants. It also scores highly in the moral issues department: should they leave, restoring the timeline and wiping out 8,000 people, or stay, and allow one person to die. The only possible way it could be considered to have failed is the lack of action, but that in no way impairs the essentials: story, character, and concepts, proving action is only a motivator for these aspects, not the conclusion. They're all there and they're all sparkling with Trek magic. 'DS9' was known as the alternative series to the 'traditional' format which the other series' tended to keep to, to boldly go and explore strange other planets. Well, 'DS9' could do that style as well as any of them, and this is one to prove it could even beat the others at their own game. Essentially this is a one-off episode with no bearing on what came before or after, one you could sit down and watch with no knowledge of the extensive backstory the series had built up, or need to understand who the Dominion are, what the galactic political situation currently is: it's almost pure sci-fi-short-story-ness (look, it's even inspired me to make up a word today!).

I like that 'DS9' had its serious, deep, ongoing arcs, but I also like that they were able to strip all that away when they wanted to and lay bare the characters in a way that allows us to know them better, or differently, or for them to learn something. I can't think of a better way to put the majority of the main cast under the microscope in such a short space of time than for them to meet their own descendants. There's something special about the past and future, beyond the little patch of time we inhabit (not that that's the same for everyone - Dax has experiences from all through her symbiont's past), that's why some people are so interested in digging into the detail of their ancestors, and others are so interested in a creative vision of the future. Why not combine the two in a science fiction context? What would it be like to meet people descended from you, especially if you shared understanding with them, since the people of Gaia, as they named the planet of their doom, had no more futuristic technology than the Defiant crew, and had had to make do, subsisting on what they could salvage from the ship.

They must have been able to salvage a fair amount of technology, as we see computer screens being used (by the school children as they learn from Quark, doing a much better job of teacher than the humuhumnuknukuapua'a fish used on the Enterprise-D!), or the soil-burrowing equipment. How the Replicators were able to keep functioning for two hundred years would be a mystery in any other situation, but with a family of O'Briens stretching down through the ages it is absolutely no wonder that everything ran clockwork. It's a shame the Chief couldn't have lived all that time, like Odo, as he'd have been kept busy up to his elbows, just like he always used to be on the station! I admire his loyalty for holding out and not marrying until ten years had passed, but was Ensign Tannenbaum the only one left because she was an awful person and he was forced to make do with her, or was it by choice on her side? Two married O'Briens should have been able to get the Defiant working again, but as soon as they landed on the planet they had to cannibalise the ship for shelter, I think - still a little hazy on exactly what happened when they first arrived, even after watching this episode so many times.

I like it a little more every time I see it, because it's such a rich seam to explore and so much is played with. I said that this episode stands alone, but that's not quite true, as the characters and where they're at in their lives is a continuation, and would also have ramifications for future stories. Dax hearing how she ended up married to Worf is one, though the most obvious would be Kira and the surprises in store for her: you're going to die! But Odo loves you! And he always has! And you survived because he couldn't bear your death! Actually Odo bore up rather well considering how much he cared for the Major. He didn't become a moping, even more antisocial outsider, when he could easily have never spoken to a soul again and lived elsewhere on the planet till the end of his days. Maybe he did, I don't remember there being much dialogue about exactly what he did in his 200 year off-time, (did he carve Kira's stylish Bajoran headstone himself? Maybe in the first hundred years he became a master craftsman, but then realised there wasn't any demand for it as there were no other Bajorans there!), but he became a lot more weathered, his burnished corn-coloured hair and tanned approximation of skin speak to that. Maybe living on a space station away from the natural world isn't good for Changelings, and they're more healthy in a planetary atmosphere. Mind you, that probably goes for just about anyone - just because it's the future, doesn't mean fresh air isn't essential!

How will Kira react to future Odo's… how to say? Betrayal? She can hardly call it that since it saved her life. Lack of justice? Then again, what is just in this case? Odo was amazingly different compared to the smooth-skinned, sharp-faced respecter of justice we know, so open and comfortable, yet willing to sacrifice 8,000 people for Kira. It's the question at the centre of the story, whether anyone has the right to sacrifice themselves to save a number of people, or whether those people could be sacrificed for one. It's not a question of numbers, and in this case it's an executive decision for Sisko, though O'Brien is the staunchest supporter of getting back to DS9, even if it means people that shouldn't exist, do indeed stop existing. It could have been a lot less of an interesting series if it had become about life on this one planet, but I'd have signed up! Kira had a good point that the potential people that would be born if they were to escape don't exist now, anyway, and the people on the planet do. There's a time where the senior staff gather to discuss the situation, but Sisko makes it plain that he's only hearing what everyone has to say and has already made up his mind. It's later, when even O'Brien sees that they can't abandon the people to save themselves even if it does mean they won't see their families again, and for Miles this is a big thing indeed. But if he can willingly give up his family then the others can too.

It's not as hard for some as it is for others: Worf, for instance, has his Par'mach'kai, Jadzia, with him, he lives on the Defiant, so any personal effects could well be there with him, and he's a Klingon, and they adapt to tough living conditions better than anybody. Just look at the line he spawned, with its Klingon adherents that have created their own community which is neither at war with the other group, nor needing their friendship. Young children admire these warriors of nature and aspire to join their group. They seem honourable, most ably portrayed by Brota, the first flat-foreheaded Klingon we've seen since 'TOS,' or he would have been, if not for 'Trials and Tribble-ations' - you wait thirty years for the old-style Klingons, then they show up twice in one season! Brota is quiet-spoken, yet talks of great deeds, slaying a bear three metres tall. They're like watered-down Klingons, not in a derogatory sense, but their genes have clearly mixed with other races, and although Worf taught them the ways of the warrior you get an impression they don't know all the customs precisely: when they draw their d'k tahgs and ask Worf to kill them, they don't mention the Mauk-to'Vor ceremony by name, for example.

In all respects they are Klingon and they live up to the proud name Worf left behind. Ironic that the very next episode after Martok accepted Worf into his House, the House of Mogh is talked up and lives for two centuries! But what about those d'k taghs? Where did they come from? They carry makeshift spears, yet these knives look professionally made - again, Replicators could have played their part, but I can't see them settling for a replicated weapon when they were happy to make their own, so my only conclusion has to be that they're Worf's, kept by the leaders of the tribe, handed down reverently from generation to generation. And if they're Worf's I can only imagine he has a stack of weapons in his quarters on the Defiant! He always used to have them up on the wall on the Enterprise - like Sulu he appreciated a good blade. Remarkably durable, those Klingon weapons are. Maybe they make them with redundant inner blades, on the model of their own biology having redundant backup organs - Worf's Mek'leth, at least, survives to this day. They could have kept it for special occasions, like slaying three metre tall bears that wandered into camp - I'm sure the Gaians were very happy to have a warrior force not too far away if there were such massive predators walking around! Did the Klingons keep them safe like Rangers to Hobbits in 'The Lord of The Rings'?

The beliefs of the characters are not brushed aside in their greatest moment of need: both Kira and Worf discuss such issues at different times, and Worf stands up for her again when she talks of destiny of the Prophets, and O'Brien forcefully says he doesn't believe in them. He couldn't have been thinking too straight there, because science has confirmed the Prophets exist. Maybe he doesn't believe in their divine intervention in Bajor? Again, they sent the Orbs, and they've interfered with the people even during his tenure on the station. I think it was just a hotheaded retort, a jab in anger when he's worried about potentially never seeing Keiko or his children again. He also jabs at Worf that he hardly ever sees his son, in response to Worf's equanimity over the issue (something that would change next season). Kira talks to Odo about her death, and how this grave on the hillside, the sad tree bent over her, the long green grass waving in the wind of an alien world, may be the path the Prophets laid out for her. That's real faith, to be prepared to die, not screaming at the Prophets for abandoning her, but accepting it as their will.

She also mentions the idea of Yedrin Dax' plan to send the Defiant out safely, creating a shadow or alternate version that crashed - she's not happy with the idea of technology circumventing 'destiny,' whatever that is. It's an issue right now with the increase in bionic replacements for the body, or genetic alterations to improve or change ourselves. Likewise, the Klingons see a different side to the predicament, noting how their deaths, ceasing to exist, would be unworthy of Sto-vo-kor. That means they must believe the soul to be indestructible, regardless of time, existing outside of galactic dimensions, or they'd think the soul would also cease with the body. It's a very interesting hypothetical concept and it's well thought upon. These issues aren't the main point of the episode, but they're part of the detail that went into structuring such a well told story, and the kinds of things you would expect these people to be talking about. The story lives up to the idea.

Allan Kroeker, still a new Trek Director at that time and someone who'd go on to be integral to the success of Trek in future (including directing the finale of the series), brought a scale that was necessary for this planet to work. We see the old village set that had been used several times on various Trek series', and if it wasn't the same set, it was the same parts of set, I'm sure, but it wasn't shown on a grand scale in one shot, it was much more intimate: Kira and Worf standing behind an opening in a wall, watching the children at play; Miranda handing out plants for the planting day; Sisko throwing some baseballs with the kiddies. The set didn't feel like a set, something that requires care and planning and a larger vision, rather than doing what sometimes happens on these kinds of episodes, which is to show the set in all its glory. This usually serves to point out the boundaries, so instead of a large space, it feels constrained. Kroeker didn't fall into that trap, but he also had help from some ravishing location work that completely sells the alien planet with its rolling green hills, farmland, and solitary grave site. I like to think Kira was something of a celebrity to the people, and they would take their children to the place and tell the story of how they ended up on this planet.

It's clearly not a time loop, since the events have only happened once to all parties - the descendants know what's going to happen because it's been passed down, plus Odo was an original member of the crew. A clever idea to have our contemporary Odo unable to counteract the energy field around the planet, meaning he couldn't hold his shape, but at the same time stands to reason that he'd eventually learn to fight against the force. One thing I noticed when Bashir was putting him away in that oversized beaker (I miss the bucket!), was that Odo was translucent. I thought he would be opaque and viscous when in liquid form as we can't usually see through him when he shape-shifts. Maybe it was another side effect of the planet? I had thought perhaps Odo wouldn't know that Kira knew what she knew and she wouldn't tell him so it would become a private thing for her as well as Odo, but that's straying into 'Smallville' territory there, so it was probably best that they're both open by the end. It calls to mind the endings of 'Necessary Evil' and 'Things Past' when they both reacted badly to secrets held from each other, except this time Kira can't blame Odo for his future self's actions. I can't remember how it will play out, so it probably remained unaddressed and they got on with the business at hand, saved by the end of season bell which threw things on its head.

Another episode this parallels, in some respects, is Season 3's 'Meridian,' in which the crew find a planet that phases out of existence for decades at a time, and also features a friendly group of people living in a constructed community, but also having access to beautiful green spaces. It was also a romantic story, and since that tended to be a pitfall for the 'DS9' writers, is far from a classic, while this, which keeps its lovey-dovey side more in check, is an absolute corker. It matters much more that it's about Odo and Kira, rather than Dax and some alien guy of the week. This episode also gives Terry Farrell some really strong stuff to play - how often do we see Dax get angry, yet here she's unspeakably furious, incredibly disappointed in Yedrin, the current/descendant host for the Dax symbiont, for trying to pretend the escape plan would work, instead planning for the crash event to happen again. For the first time. Again. I can't remember exactly when she was last angry, but I do recall Season 2's 'Blood Oath' and how driven she was there. Farrell's growth as an actor had improved even more by the time of this episode: there's one little moment after Sisko leaves the room, where she walks over to Yedrin with a mixture of being drawn to him in sadness and shame over the guilt of what they'd got the ship into by wanting to explore the planet, almost wanting to comfort him and herself, yet also not having the words to express how disappointed she is in him trying to deceive them. It's all done in body language and eyes and was really very powerful.

Out of the extrapolations for who our characters might have begotten, who was the best? It's hard to pick a winner, because the standard of guest casting is so high. That much attention to detail in faces or portrayals isn't always carried through on a weekly TV series, but they came up trumps with every single person. Yedrin was the most likeable, he looked a bit like Tom Paris, all thin-faced and bright, happy eyes, and his character was full of questions for me: how many hosts have there been since Jadzia, and how was the most suitable person chosen? The history of the line interested me greatly and I wish a novel had been written about the lives on Gaia, from the crash up until the Defiant arrives - I'm surprised no one's done that, in the style of the Terok Nor books or 'The Never-Ending Sacrifice.' Then there was Miranda O'Brien: it's scary how much she looks like a female Miles, with the high forehead, rosy features and wrinkly smile. She would win the prize for closest resemblance and most believable relation. But it was Brota, the softly spoken Klingon that I thought was the best character, evoking the honour, dignity and reserve of Worf, and looking like a proper old-style example of the race. Even the children were well formed people, their innocence coming out in moments such as their not knowing of the impending nonexistence, or when one of them pipes up and asks if the visitors want to see Kira's grave, not understanding that Kira's very much alive for them, and that it's a sudden and sad discovery to hear of the death of their friend.

This means that when we come to the planting sequence, where the Defiant crew, after sealing the fate of the people in Sisko's decision to leave (I never sensed he had a desire to recreate history - he's responsible for his crew, but also has DS9, Starfleet, his role as Emissary to the Bajorans…), joyfully forget about the gravity of the moment and assist the people in their special day of planting. They missed a trick with that, I think - they should have made it the day of remembrance for the Defiant's crash, but that isn't mentioned, it just happens on the same day. Maybe in the past it was just that, but as the day grew nearer when the Defiant would return, the people probably didn't want to think about the possibility of things not turning out the way they originally did. Did they even know how far back in time they'd travelled? They could probably have worked it out from the position of the stars when they arrived, and the stars of the time they went back to, but if they didn't know, that would have meant they lived on, always expecting their ancestors to arrive, but unsure of the exact time.

The planting sequence was a lovely moment, all joining together to do this one last communal task, even the Klingons, who looked down on farming as a form of livelihood, are simply, but effectively made to see why they should help, by the wise words of Worf: ever looking for an enemy to fight, he tells them the enemy today is time. Let them help the people defeat it. This was another scene where the scope and scale are shown to be bigger than we see onscreen, allowing the imagination to put more in our head than any budget ever could - the warrior woman initially tells Worf about some of their group being from his line and others joining by choice, so when just those three accompany Worf to the planting grounds it makes it seem like she was speaking rather grandly of only three people! Until Brota instructs his friend to bring the others, and you realise there must be many more of them. The montage of people working together in the fields is one of those happy, but poignant moments because we know this is all futile. The children don't know the end is coming and it's the little girl, Molly's, openness about the future, how tall this plant will grow that makes O'Brien see that she isn't any less precious than his own Molly and he no longer believes he has the right to his old life at the expense of hers and the others.

It's not all doom and gloom, though. It's a remarkably uplifting story considering the ramifications, and there are even a few laughs to be had, mainly from Bashir - his enjoyment at how things turned out is an exact opposite of how O'Brien feels. Also, early in the episode, when Sisko pages him to the bridge to see to Kira, then she says she's fine, I imagined in my head the man stomping onto the bridge saying "First he wants me on the bridge, then he doesn't want me on the bridge…" - it would have made a good comedy illustration, although in reality he'd have been only too pleased to make sure Kira was okay. Later, when he does examine her and they're still expecting to leave soon, he cackles that he'll soon have her on his operating table, and it's like a real in-episode acknowledgement that Bashir's Infirmary can be a bit of a House of Horrors sometimes, with the kind of Frankenstein medicine he carries on in there sometimes.

For example, both Shakaar and Bareil are mentioned by Kira (in that context she's talking about how it must have hurt Odo when she confided in him about them), and while Shakaar escaped the table, Bareil was turned into a walking vegetable in there, so for Bashir to be pretending to evilly look forward to doing his worst to Kira could be in bad taste for her if they'd really thought about it! That's a joke really, as he did all he could for the Vedek, but it did become one of the running jokes behind the scenes if you read the Companion book. It was quite an unexpected, but simple way they used to separate Kira and Shakaar. Though it seems arbitrary, it's another example of her strong faith, that she would take this message that they weren't right for each other in the eyes of the Prophets, and obey that decision. Maybe the busy life of the First Minister meant their long-distance courtship had floundered, or the experience of having a child (albeit for the O'Briens), had changed Kira?

I was thinking during the episode, why didn't they just stay on the planet and all live happily ever after - it would have changed the series beyond all recognition, but I can see most of those characters (especially Worf and Sisko, building things), taking on the challenge to live a life less reliant on technology (links to 'Paradise' there), but I realised Kira was the balance, as she'd die weeks after their arrival due to her 'Matrix' bullet-dodge temporal effect (predating both that film and the 'Enterprise' pilot, 'Broken Bow' and its time-jiggling visual effects). So it made sense. Much more sense than Kira wearing those high-heeled boots in bed! I was also unsure about the idea of sending a probe through the barrier carrying messages to their families so they'd know what happened, once they decided to recreate the accident - if they couldn't get through without crashing two hundred years into the past, how would the probe? But of course, the issue wasn't whether they could get through the barrier, it was should they, as shown by the fact that a course change engineered by future Odo forced them to safely leave. At the end, Dax and Sisko talk about the loss of the colony and all their descendants having ceased to exist, almost exactly repeating Dr. McCoy's line from 'Star Trek II' when he speaks of the death of Spock, to Kirk. The sentiment is the same: as long as these people are remembered they will continue to exist, and that was the perfect way to close out this inspirational story.

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