“CHILDREN OF TIME”
“I just felt someone walk over my grave! Oh, wait...it was me.”
I’ve always loved this episode, which is perhaps as close to a classic Trekkian morality play as DS9 ever got. Indeed, it’s a tale that could easily have been told on just about any other Star Trek series. While that may disappoint some hardened Niners, it’s nevertheless handled in a uniquely “DS9 manner, as evidenced by its beautiful characterisation—which will have long-term consequences for a certain relationship—and a morally ambiguous twist at the end that perhaps no other Trek show would have dared.
Although the opening scenes initially brought back unpleasant memories of “Meridian”, the phenomenal hook—a planet populated by the crew’s descendants—is so good it’s a wonder Trek hadn’t done it years before. Of course, this necessitates a technobabble explanation and the ramifications are a little head-scratching when you start to think about it (“I hate temporal mechanics!”), but in the context of the story it’s a killer premise and one that immediately and understandably ruffles the crew’s feathers.
Something this episode does masterfully is give pretty much all the characters their own little arc as they deal with this unsettling predicament in very different ways, and ways that remain true to each character. Miles is the most resistant of everyone, because there’s simply no way he can contemplate a life without Keiko and his kids, much less accept the idea that he would hook up with some Ensign and start a new family. He refuses to engage with these people because he’s simply not willing to accept a timeline without his wife and family. It’s a great episode for Jadzia, too, as she not only wrestles with the guilt of having been responsible for the whole incident but also must deal with a future incarnation in the form of Yedrin Dax, a man whose friendly demeanour masks not only conflicted emotion but blatant deceit. Although his scenes are actually quite few in number, Gary Frank gives a superb performance as Yedrin, capturing enough of Terry Farrell’s nuances to be convincing as a future host while also creating a unique and compelling character of his own.
Worf spends some time with members of the colony who have deliberately embraced the Klingon way of life, which makes for a fairly interesting recognition of the power of culture and upholding certain tradition and values. Sisko stays neutral for most of the episode, which is probably only appropriate for a commanding officer, as he tries to approach a no-win situation with objectivity and impartiality. I’m surprised we didn’t get to see his pain at the thought of Jake being fatherless, although it does get mentioned by Yedrin and we can assume it must be tearing him apart. Bashir is the only character that doesn’t really have a substantive role here; in fact, he seems like he’s actually rather enjoying himself and nonplussed at the notion of staying on the planet and hooking up with a certain Ensign.
The central relationship here, of course, is Odo and Kira, and it makes for riveting viewing. Rene Auberjonois aces it as the future version of Odo—an Odo that, over the course of two hundred years, has finally mustered a more believable humanoid face (I always wished the makeup department had subtly altered Odo’s makeup across the course of the show’s seven years to reflect that). This is an Odo that has spent two centuries living with bitterness and regret; and the moment he sees Kira he lets the cat out of the bag and confesses his undying love for her. Who could have predicted that Kira would learn about Odo’s long-held feelings only a quarter of the way into the episode? Had this been any other Trek you could almost guarantee that by the end of the episode Kira’s memory would have been wiped or things would have been substantially reset to avoid having to deal with the fallout in further episodes. But, no, this episode comes with consequences and I have to say it’s beautifully played. Nana Visitor is excellent as Kira not only has to deal with this altogether unexpected declaration of love but also wrestling with her fate as she visits her own grave. How can she vote to save her own life when it means the deaths of eight thousand others?
The dilemma is handled thoughtfully and sensitively and, true to life, there are no easy answers. As it happens, I always appreciated a certain piece of dialogue by Sisko, which I always highlight when anyone defends the actions of Janeway in VOYAGER’s “Tuvix” episode, a piece of television I despise with every fibre in my being and which turned a Star Trek captain into a Nazi-like executioner. As he tells Yedrin: “Who are
you to decide who lives or dies? Who are
you to make that call? [...] I will not ask Kira to sacrifice her life for eight thousand people; or for eight million. No one has the right to ask that.” Amen. Burn, Kathy, burn.
Ultimately, the crew decide that they can’t live with themselves knowing these people will be erased from existence so they decide to recreate the accident that sends them back in time. I can see it from both perspectives and don’t think there’s actually a right or wrong answer. But I do wonder two things. Firstly, aren’t there any temporal directive protocols in place to navigate such dilemmas (time travel not being altogether unheard of in the Trek universe)? Can it be asserted that this accident was meant to happen, and thus must be recreated to uphold the timeline, or did the accident damage the timeline? Secondly, no one gives a thought to all the crew’s descendants that will not be born because they never returned home? For instance, we have Ben and Kasidy’s future child, and the possibility that Miles and Keiko would have more children, and all the rest of the crew as they resume their lives aboard the station? It’s not a black and white issue at all.
Then we have the final twist which I certainly never saw coming. I bet Odo was NOT looking forward to paying that trip to Kira’s quarters (where, incidentally, we get to see just how ridiculously impractical her boot heels are as she lies in bed; for which I think we can safely blame Rick Berman). Our Odo now not only has to deal with the awkward fact that his secret is out, but also must confess that his future self committed a deeply morally questionable act in order to keep her alive.
Clearly, future-Odo was a very different man, and one that had been damaged by the loss of Kira and many years of grief and torment. Was his choice a sane and rational one, or was it insane and irrational? Future-Odo didn’t seem particularly cray-cray, but he was rather intense and obsessive. Depending on how you view his action, he was either safeguarding the timeline and stopping an accident that should never have happened, or...he just committed genocide. Although does preventing someone from ever being born constitute murder? Again, the crew’s decision to stay prevented likely just as many future children being born had the accident never happened and the timeline stayed on its original course. I love the moral ambiguity and the fact this episode leaves you thinking long after the end credits roll. Although these events are never referenced again, there are consequences for Odo and Kira’s future relationship, which I very much appreciate.
Production-wise, Rene Echevarria’s teleplay is first class, and I’ve already complimented the performances: Nana Visitor and Rene Auberjonois are brilliant, and it’s also a strong episode for Avery Brooks, Colm Meaney and Terry Farrell, with Gary Frank putting in an excellent guest performance as Yedrin. Allan Kroeker’s directing is first rate and while I’m not always sold on Paul Baillargeon’s music, his score is quite wonderful here, with some beautiful melodic touches. Some nice sets and location work, too, even if it looks windy as heck. There’s actually so much packed into the episode I feel it could have easily stretched to a two-parter, yet it never feels rushed or overloaded. Overall, I find this a classic episode and a highlight of the season.
Rating: 10
