It was morning, sunlight reaching in through the portholes of the prison ship. Nadira woke slowly, blinking, then abruptly pushed herself up from the couch where she had fallen asleep, waiting. A quick check told her what she already suspected. Conwing had not returned. The Rangers must have gotten him.

For the first moments, she felt relief, a vindictive happiness. He’d never look at her like that again, never dare to touch her. But almost immediately, her heart squeezed with fear. She was all alone now. Alone in an empty, echoing ship, a stranger in a strange time, no friends, no father, no help, not even the cyclobots.

Back on her couch, she shivered and pulled her knees up to her chest. If only she could bring Ransik back... but she couldn’t, not without the serum... what would he tell her if he was here, what would he want her to do?

Only silence answered. And then she remembered. There was one person from her time still around. Frax -- Dr. Fericks, or what was left of him -- was still out there, somewhere. She shivered again.

“You captured Conwing. The mutant who killed Commander Porter. Good work.”

“The Rangers captured him, sir.”

“But only with your help. It was your idea. And it took a lot of courage to do what you did.”

Eric stared straight ahead, but he could feel Collins’ gaze on him, and wondered if the older man could see how pleased he was by that compliment. “Yes, sir, thank you,” he answered.

“I wish you could have taken a troop of Guardians. If we could have captured that mutant instead...”

“Too risky, sir. Too hard to hide that many men. And I’m not sure we have a prison that could hold Conwing.”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right. You showed good planning in arranging all of it.”

“Thank you, sir.” Eric looked directly at his employer’s blue eyes for a moment, then snapped back to attention, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.

“At ease, Myers. Relax.”

“Yes, sir.” Eric didn’t move.

“Your face... they did something to heal it, didn’t they?”

“I...” Eric shifted uncomfortably and looked at him again, then at the floor. “Yes, sir. They had something that helped.”

“I’m glad of that.” Collins’ voice was very soft. “And they were the ones who gave us the serum, weren’t they?”

“They didn’t say.”

He heard a faint sigh, and then, “You must have spent some time with them. Did you find out anything about them? Where they came from? What their purpose is here?”

“No, sir. Nothing.”

“Damn,” Collins muttered. “I was hoping you’d learn something...”

“Sorry, sir.” Eric forced himself to look up, a brief vision of himself in the commander’s red beret flickering through his mind, and disappearing. “I know they have good reason to keep where they came from a secret. I know what they want is to protect us. I know your son’s doing the right thing, working with them. And that’s all I can tell you.”

Again Collins examined him, making him want to squirm uncomfortably. Then he sat back and said, “All right.”

“Sir, if I may be excused...”

“One more thing.”

Eric straightened to attention again, stomach tightening, unsure of what to expect. He waited.

“As I was saying, you did a good job. You worked well with the Rangers. I want more of that, wanted to put my son in command of the Guardians, as you know, thought that way they would cooperate with us. But perhaps it’s just as well that didn’t work out.” He paused for a breath. “Do you still want the commander’s job?”

Eric knew his surprise was showing, and tried to conceal it. “Of course, sir.”

“It’s yours.” Collins got up, circled his desk, and held out his hand. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“I’m sure you’ll make a fine leader. Eric.”

They shook hands with a quick smile, then Eric saluted smartly and started out of the office, not letting himself break into a delighted grin until his back was turned.

“Alex is usually the one staring out the window. Now here you are.” Wes leaned against the stone windowsill, his eyes on Jen’s face as she gazed out, watching her lips curve into a faint smile as she glanced at him.

“Now I know why he does it,” she said. She looked out again, still smiling softly. “Silver Hills. In my time, it’s called Silver City. It’s bigger, and just as beautiful. Time Force headquarters is up there, on top of that hill.” She nodded towards the city limits. “I still remember the first time I saw it. It was kind of scary. But I sort of fell in love with it.”

“You didn’t grow up here?”

“No, we lived in the countryside, in a farming community.”

“I’m surprised you’d still have farming in your time.”

“We still have to eat. Still have to grow plants. And we’ve gone back to some of the older methods, to preserve the environment... My parents assumed I’d grow up to take over the farm, and so did I... but then they died...” She leaned her head against the stone, eyes dreamy and distant. “It was an accident, with the farming equipment. I was fifteen. Went to live with my aunt and uncle. They were nice enough, I guess, but I never really fit in with them, never felt comfortable. I sold the farm, wanted to leave all of it behind me, start over, find some place where I really belonged. So I joined Time Force as soon as I was old enough.”

“And did you fit in there?”

“Not at first. It was a very different life, here in the city, and I had trouble, always felt like I wasn’t good enough, wanted to be perfect... then Alex came along, took an interest in me. He helped so much...”

She blinked, looked up at Wes, and then over the city again. “Anyway, pretty soon I knew it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Protect the timeline. Protect Silver City, everyone in it.” She sighed. “I know it’s only concrete, steel, brick, glass. But sometimes I feel like it’s alive, some kind of giant creature, living and breathing... and to hear Alex say it’s gone now, in my time...” Raising a hand to brush a tear away, she gave a brief, breathless laugh. “Sounds pretty silly, doesn’t it? To be worrying about a city, when I should be concerned about all the people in it.”

“It’s not silly. Maybe you just can’t stand thinking about the people.”

She looked at his face again, eyes still sparkling with tears, and reached to touch his hand quickly and briefly. Then she looked away, her face firming. “I just wish Alex had told me,” she said. “He could have -- have trusted me. Should have shared his problems with me.”

“I would have told you,” Wes said without thinking.

Jen glanced at him again, surprise showing for a moment, and something else he couldn’t identify. Then she smiled just slightly and leaned on the windowsill again, making room for him as they both looked out over the city together.

Alex saw them as he quietly padded through the large central clock tower room and headed for the stairs. Jen and Wes, at the window, shoulder to shoulder, as if they belonged together. And maybe they do, he thought as he ran down the stairs and out to the street, turning towards Hillside Park and the jogging trail.

Wes... he was always so cheerful, making jokes, kidding around, not seeming to take anything seriously. And yet he had stood up for Eric, not letting anything stand in his way. Surprisingly, he had strength of character. On top of the gift of getting along with people. Something Alex had always lacked.

And Jen... the way she had looked when he had told them the truth. He knew she was hurt that he hadn’t confided in her. In fact at the way he had acted ever since he had come here. He had been hard and cold, had taken command away from her, had driven all of them... For a cause, of course, a good one, they had to reverse the change in the timestream, or nothing else would matter... But did it mean he had to hurt Jen? And he had been cold because he was so afraid... for them... Maybe he had withdrawn, at least in part, to protect himself; to put a distance between himself and the others, knowing the pain and loss that was still to come.

He stopped at the end of the trail, bending with hands braced to catch his breath before starting back. No. They had a mission. He had to push all of them to accomplish it. But he didn’t have to push away the woman he loved. Maybe he could take a lesson from Wes, try to win back the affection he sensed was rapidly fading... If it wasn’t already too late.

Wes paused for a moment before raising a hand to knock on the door. It felt strange, knocking, coming to the house where he had lived all his life as a visitor. But of course this wasn’t his home anymore. It had been months since he had seen it. About six months, he realized with a pang, half a year, since he had walked through this door.

Had he been right to leave? They had quarreled -- more than a quarrel, maybe; he had been so angry, so convinced his father was only a cold-hearted businessman who cared about nothing but money, when he refused to get involved in that kidnapping, when he had gotten so angry at Wes for ‘borrowing’ the ransom money. But in his heart, Wes had always known it wasn’t true, that things weren’t so simple, so black and white.

He had come here tonight to thank his father for his cooperation in the plan that had defeated Conwing, and to talk to him again about the serum. But it was also an excuse to see him, to see Philips, their butler, maybe to feel that he had a family again.

“Master Wesley!” Philips had opened the door, and was smiling at him. “It’s so good to see you. Nothing’s wrong, I hope?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just want to talk to Dad for a minute. He’s home, isn’t he?”

“Certainly. He’s still at dinner in the small dining room.”

“Thanks. Great to see you too.” With a pat on Philips’ arm, Wes walked through the familiar foyer, glanced up the wide, curved staircase in the direction of his old bedroom, passed the large living room with its windows looking out over the garden, and found his father, as promised, sitting in the smaller dining room, absorbed in a newspaper as he finished his dinner.

He looked up at the sound of Wes’s footsteps, and broke into a smile. “Wes!” he exclaimed. “How are you? Nothing wrong, I hope?”

“No. Since when does something have to be wrong before I come to see you?” Wes asked with a slight twinge of guilt.

“You don’t really want an answer to that.” Collins folded his paper and put it down as Wes sat across from him. “Sorry. Have you eaten? Want anything?”

“No, thanks.”

“Actually I’m very glad to see you. In fact I was wondering whether to call or drop by the clock tower today, to make sure you’re all right.”

“Why? Didn’t Eric tell you what happened?”

“Eric reported in last night and I spoke to him today, yes. But it’s not the same as hearing it from you, son. Not the same as seeing you.” He paused, his voice lowering. “You could have called, you know.”

“I... I’m sorry, Dad. It was late...” Wes said, aware of how weak that sounded, even to himself. “Anyway,” he went on, “I wanted to thank you.”

“To tell the truth, I wouldn’t have agreed if I’d known you were going to take such a risk yourself.”

“Had to be done, Dad. Someone had to take the risk. Might as well be me.”

“Maybe.” Collins was silent, hesitating for a moment before going on. “You’re my son. It’s still hard for me to think of you putting yourself in danger like this. Not just last night, but the whole Ranger thing.” He leaned closer. “I don’t know anything about these people you’re working with, where they came from, who they really are...”

“I wish I could tell you, Dad. If it was up to me, I would. But it’s not my secret to give away. You’ll just have to trust me, that I know what I’m doing.”

“I do trust you, but -- I’m a father, Wes. I’m worried about you.”

Wes looked away, both touched and uncomfortable. “I understand, Dad,” he said finally.

“Hearing about last night made me realize how wrong I was to let this -- this separation go on so long. You never know when it may be too late for apologies. Too late for anything.” He held Wes’s eyes. “We may not agree on everything, but we’re family. I want you to know I’m sorry.”

Wes blinked at him. “It wasn’t your fault, Dad,” he said. “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”

“We both did. I hope that’s all behind us now. I also want you to know -- I’m very proud of what you’re doing. Very proud of you.”

Hoping his voice was steady, Wes said, “That means a lot to me. It really does.” He looked down at the table, wishing he didn’t have to say the next thing, but it was one of the reasons he was there. “Dad, there’s something else. We need to talk about the serum again.”

“You still want me to discontinue research on it?”

“Yes. It’s very important.” Wes glanced up to see his father’s eyes on him, his face serious.

“Now that I know Ransik needs it... All right. I’ll suspend all work on it, at least for now.”

“Really?” Wes grinned. “Thanks, Dad. You’re doing the right thing. And someday, as soon as I can, I’ll tell you all about it. I promise.”

Just outside of town, an abandoned warehouse stood, empty and unused, as far as its owners knew. But someone had found a use for it. Cyclobots swarmed its interior, the sounds of metal on metal filled the dusty air, and a golden form paced among them.

“Good,” Frax murmured, whether to himself or to the robots surrounding him, only he knew. “Good,” as he turned to admire their handiwork, a gigantic robot, as big as the Q-Rex, and, he knew, even more dangerous.

“Only one more thing to do, to ensure that the Silver Guardians are eliminated, and Time Force never comes to be,” he said. “The ultimate attack on the city... the crisis which will destroy Silver Hills, and put Bio-Lab and the Guardians out of business.” His metal fists clenched. “Mutants, humans, with their wars... Let them wipe each other out. It’ll be a better world without any of them.”