Captain James T. Kirk, commanding
USS Enterprise, NCC-1701-A
Once again, Temporal Investigations finds itself mired in paperwork as a result of your actions. This is getting to be a habit. A bad habit.
I am not going to waste your time or mine detailing the cascade of timeline hemorrhages that may have resulted from your blatant disregard for temporal procedure. We have been down that road before, you and I. Apparently, you have no intention of letting the petty concerns of the space-time continuum get in the way of your good time.
I donít doubt that youíre enjoying your ďpunishmentĒ from the Federation. How nice that center seat must feel after so many years behind a desk. How pleasant it must be for you to once again be plying the spaceways, blissfully unconcerned with such matters as the sudden absence from the timeline of two fully grown cetaceans. Or a fully grown cetacean biologist. To say nothing of the fact that two of your officers cheerfully handed the formula for transparent aluminum over to what-- for all intents and purposes-- amounted to a stranger on the street!
The mind boggles.
Fortunately for my blood pressure, I am not addressing those issues today. No, instead I have taken it upon myself to account for a particular temporal incursion of your making. Iím sure you consider it a minor matter and that no real harm was done. Again, I find it necessary to remind you that, when it comes to temporal integrity, there are no minor concerns.
And so we come to the crux of the matter--
Just a pair of eyeglasses, you are no doubt saying. Small, nondescript, common. Thousands of similar pairs crafted all over Earth over the centuries. Doctor McCoy owned them once and he will own them again. No harm, no foul.
I would lay out, in detail, the ramifications of plucking this particular item from one century and depositing it in an earlier one. I would, that is, if I thought it would do any good. Or that you would learn anything from the lecture. Fortunately, our department has conducted a thorough investigation of the sequence of events following your merry little trip to that charming little antique shop in the twentieth century. Those glasses were bought and sold no less than twenty-seven times over the years. They traveled around the globe, crisscrossing the continents, touring the old nation-states. They even went out into space and came back to Earth twice! I will not bore you with the extensive research our team of agents had to engage in, nor the details of the mounds of receipts and ancient records they had to pour over. Iím sure you do not care. Instead, I will relieve your limited anxiety by informing you that those particular eyeglasses did, in fact, eventually end up in the hands of one Doctor Leonard McCoy, who for some unknown reason decided they would make an appropriate birthday present for you.
And so the loop was closed.
You were fortunate this time, Captain. Those glasses could very well have caused irreparable damage to the timeline.
Based upon the nearly unbelievable coincidences in this matter, Temporal Investigations has decided to create an entirely new category of temporal disturbance, just in your honor. Some of my colleagues even wanted to call it the ďKirkĒ, but I, frankly, did not wish to give you the satisfaction.
We are calling it ďpredestination paradoxĒ.
I hope you are pleased.
And I desperately hope your name will never cross my desk again.
Guiseppe de Frigga