Books > I, Q > Excerpts

From Chapter One

Allow me to introduce myself....I am called "Q." Known to my friends, relatives, and associates as: The Wonderful, The Magnificent, The Living End. I hail from a realm called the Q Continuum, a place that has existed since before time was time. It is our lot to push, to probe, to experiment, and to see the picture within the great tapestry that is the universe. In other words, to boldly go where no one has gone before. At least, that was our mandate when we first started. It has changed somewhat (some would say "mutated," others might say "devolved"), and now my fellow Q specialize in sitting about on the rocking chair of life, watching the universe pass them by.

That has never been an occupation I've found particularly stimulating. So I have taken it upon myself to continue that which I feel is the one true mandate of our Continuum: to question, to stir things up, to make jokes, to "boldly go where..." Sorry, I've already said that....I'm repeating myself. How terribly fallible. I told you I've been with humans too long.

I make lesser beings (of which there is a superfluity) feel poorly about their shortcomings -- by way of elevating them, of course! Not for a moment do I think they can even approach my level. But sometimes, every so often, they at least get an inkling of just what my level is. It's their opportunity to look up from the pissoir of life and gaze down the boulevard -- if only for a moment. Which is why my occasional slippage is so annoying. Ah well. Lay down with pigs, end up a ham. And a one, and a...

Another point of useful information: I am omnipotent. Some might think this to be a bad thing. I, of course, do not. It is the state to which I am most accustomed. I am able to accomplish whatever I desire, simply by willing it to be so. There are some who try to moralize about my activities, to act as if what I do is right or wrong. I don't share that point of view. Right? Wrong? Trivial notions, labels applied by those whose expertise is restricted to labeling others. My actions are my own, and I am answerable only to myself. In that respect, I could almost be considered a force of nature. No one questions the ethics of a hurricane, quake, or ion storm. These things simply exist. I am the same way. I am above good and evil. I cannot be measured, judged or assessed, poked or prodded, quantified or qualified, and I'm not the sort you would want to make angry. In other words, don't tread on me.

I travel, I test, and (with any luck) I'm able to raise some species a bit higher than they were before making my acquaintance.

To that end, there is a particular individual to whom I keep finding myself drawn -- other than myself, of course. His name is Jean-Luc Picard, and he is a middle-aged, bald, oddly accented man who oversees activities aboard the Starship Enterprise. The Enterprise is a vessel belonging to an organization called Starfleet, and the Enterprise is the flagship of the fleet, which makes it the most advanced ant on the anthill.

When I first met Picard, I thought him an insufferably pretentious man who heartily deserved to be taken down a few pegs. Arrogantly sure of himself, confident in his ability to see all sides of a situation and then arrive at a solution "best for all concerned," Picard epitomized to me everything that was wrong with the human race. Though these aforementioned traits may also be apparent in Me, they are also well justified in Me. There is nothing more galling than some ephemeral little pip-squeak strutting his stuff -- but that's a discussion for another time.

Humans. Don't get me started. Damn...too late

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