"Samwize? Do you hear me?" Baezhu's heart was still pounding, but he'd definitely gone too far to back out now. He'd already committed a crime and, given the secrecy around the aliens, one likely punishable by death.

The alien's eyelids fluttered.

"It's Baezhu. I won't hurt you."

They were in a quiet room in a quiet corridor. The only sounds in the whole place were the machine providing nutrients and medication to Samwize and the animals in the other corridors. And one guard who wouldn't come this way for another hour.

Samwize opened his eyes. They closed again and then snapped open. Baezhu wasn't sure if he read anger or fear in those eyes. At the moment, his eyes were all Samwize could move.

Baezhu held up his hand and the device he'd taken from the secure laboratory. "I want to help you."

Turn had begun three days ago, and Baezhu had made the hardest decision of his young life. Samwize had been rushed to surgery and put back together, but the decision was made that it was safer to keep him in a medically-induced coma until Turn was over and everyone could think straighter. Zhenah had had the sense not to argue too strongly. He left the room. Kenu, on the other hand, was beside himself.

"I didn't mean for that to happen," he pleaded.

"You should have known he'd be too aggressive," Dr. Bishtae argued. "Even you were. It's at this time we have to discipline ourselves all the more. You lost control."

Kenu sat and dropped his head. "I just wanted answers. You have your experiments and exploratory surgeries. I only have words. I'm a linguist. I need something to work with."

"Linguists aren't inquisitors, Kenu," Burha snapped. "They're scientists. They study. They do not torture."

"But he was trying to trick me!" Kenu argued. "Thirteen distinct languages at least! And then the signal. Zhenah and Kaife had called me in to help. What help? It was like another language. Probably a code."

Bishtae stepped closer. "Kaife is here? At Kennisitai?"

"C Wing, secure lab," Kenu replied. "He's in charge of studying the alien technology from the desert. I shouldn't say any more."

"No," Bishtae agreed, "you shouldn't. Keep your work with Kaife there. You shouldn't' have brought it here at all. Breach of security."

C Wing, device, alien technology. Signal. A communications device. Baezhu had worked it out that night. An alien communications device was in the secure lab in C Wing. Kenu had said the aliens had sent a signal in the desert. They had crashed so maybe they had tried calling for help. It had been months since then, but maybe someone could still help if they could call again. Samwize didn't have a future under the Raptors, and Baezhu hated the idea of having to participate in his torture again.

The next day, the day before Turn, Baezhu had taken the dejected Hinath aside to speak in private. Hinath had no chips, so he had been chosen to stay the two weeks in the facility to watch over the alien's unconscious form and to tend the animals. Baezhu offered to take his place, provided Hinath told no one. Hinath, with the offer of relief from his own surging hormones and desires, readily agreed. They were the last two to leave the facility for the night. Baezhu stayed and Hinath went.

The one person he couldn't hide from was Kahrae. Being a guard, Kahrae did have to guard a few nights during Turn. He was on rotation. The other guards wouldn't know which Winged had been assigned to stay behind, but Kahrae knew Baezhu had made the quota. Baezhu found him in the corridor the second night of Turn.

"Baezhu?" Kahrae had been shocked to see him. "What are you doing here? Are you rotating, too?"

"Yes," Baezhu lied. It hurt to do it but he couldn't implicate his friend by telling him the truth. "Hinath will be in next week."

Kahrae shook his head. "That must be frustrating!"

Baezhu let his eyes go wide. He didn't have to lie about that. "You have no idea!"

"Well just hold out. You'll get your chance."

"What about you?" Baezhu asked.

"I got them both the same day." Kahrae sounded just a bit guilty. "I couldn't wait for the second. Now I'm all out of chips, but at least I get to rest most of the holidays."

Baezhu smiled. "I'll probably do the same when my turn comes. It'll be nice to just rest for a few days. Are you the only guard around here?"

Kahrae shook his head. "The only one inside. There are still two at every exit. It's a good thing I got inside rotation before Turn. I only have to work two days. The poor guys outside have to work six."

Baezhu bobbed his head. "Lucky!"

Kahrae had to continue his rounds. He patted Baezhu on the back for encouragement then set off. Baezhu made a show of checking on Samwize, but when Kahrae was far enough away, Baezhu followed him. He stayed one corridor back at each turn and kept following until he arrived back at Samwize's room an hour and a half later. Kahrae was just looking in the window.

"I still think he's ugly," he commented.

"He probably thinks the same of you," Baezhu had quipped. And when Kahrae asked where he'd been, he said he'd just come from the toilet down the hall. "It's nicer. Besides, I don't want to go in front of him, coma or not!"

The next night, he had timed the guard on his rounds and stole away to C Wing when fifteen minutes had passed since the guard had gone past Samwize's room. He returned with the device and waited for the guard to pass again. Then he slowed the drip of anesthetics so that Samwize would wake up.

Malcolm squinted to focus his groggy vision on what Sméagol was holding up. Once he recognized it, the grogginess left him. His breath quickened and he realized he could move a bit. The drugs were wearing off.

Hoshi! he called out in his mind. He needed her.

"Malcolm! How are you? Are they hurting you again?"

Look, he told her. He flipped the video switch on the console and she gasped.

"The communicator!"

Sméagol spoke and Hoshi translated. "He has to put it back soon. He wants you to use it to call for help."

Do you think it's a trap? I don't know that my mind is up to figuring that out. He's just pulled me out.

"Well, he's helped you before. It's their mating time, Malcolm. Everyone seemed to go nuts. Pipa called it a holiday. They don't have to work. I still do. Do you see any of the others, any cameras?"

Malcolm turned his head to look around. There was a camera but its red light was off.

Sméagol spoke again. "He says he's probably going to get in a lot of trouble for this, but he couldn't watch you suffer-or participate in it--without at least trying to help you find a way out. The Raptors will be in charge for the next three years. They'll torture you. They'll probably kill you."

Malcolm reached out for the communicator, and Sméagol let him take it. Would it do any good? Enterprise can't still be here. Who will hear it?

"Anyone. It's worth trying. We came for a signal, didn't we? We have to try."

Not English, just in case.

"Denobulan then, like the other one. They've been in space longer. They might stand a better chance of being understood than us by a passing ship anyway."

Alright. What do we say? 'We are from the Starship Enterprise. We need to be rescued?

"The first part works. Just repeat after me."

Malcolm opened the communicator and adjusted the frequency. He got a signal. He could transmit. But would anyone receive? Hoshi started to speak slowly in Denobulan. Malcolm tried to repeat but, his mouth was so dry and it hurt his chest. His voice sounded weak and raspy. She started again and so did he, a little stronger this time. The only word he understood was Enterprise. He thought for a moment and turned off Audio II. He could still hear her but she wouldn't be able to hear through his ears. He used his other hand to tap on his chest. Two words in Morse code.

"That's it," she said. Malcolm didn't repeat that part. He ended his transmission and then closed the communicator. He handed it back to Sméagol.

Sméagol nodded and took his hand for a moment. He spoke. "He hopes someone hears. He wishes he could have gotten to know you better--as a person--and that you didn't have to fear his people."

Help me thank him.

"Sherisnoda," Hoshi said.

Malcolm looked Sméagol--Bayzhoo--in the eyes. "Sherisnoda."

Sméagol's eyes widened and he said something. "He said he'll pretend you never said that. He also says you'll be under for the rest of Serinta. I think that's the holidays, the mating. Hopefully no one will ever know about this until someone comes for you."

For us, he corrected. If it happens, I'll tell them where to find you.

"I know you will."

Bayzhoo reached for the machine and Malcolm felt his body tingle.

Goodnight, Hoshi. No matter what happens, I want you to know I love you more than life itself.

"I love you, too. More than anything. I'll listen for you after the holidays."

Malcolm could barely hear the last word. It dissolved into black nothingness and he was out.

"Sir," Hoshi called out. "I'm picking up a signal. It's garbled but it doesn't seem to be a distress call."

Archer stood and came closer to her. "What makes you say that?"

Hoshi ran her fingers over her console again. "It's not on all frequencies or even a wide band," she stated. "It's on our frequency, like it was sent directly to us. And it doesn't seem to repeat."

"Let's hear it," Archer ordered. The message played but Archer could barely tell there was a voice at all through all the static. Hoshi Sato, though, had an amazing sense of hearing.

She shook her head. "I can't make it out, but it almost seems to have a Denobulan inflection."

Archer took her word for it. "Try and clear it up and see if the doctor can shed any light on it." He turned to T'Pol. "Can we tell where it's coming from?"

T'Pol looked up from her instruments. "It appears to originate from the fourth planet in the nearest system. About one hundred thousand kilometers out."

Archer now turned to Tactical. "Mr. Reed, can you read anything on the planet?"

"Some, sir," Reed said, without looking up from his console. "There's a strong magnetic field that's distorting our scans of the planet itself, but I make out geosynchronous satellites in orbit. There are no ships in orbit of that planet or any other in the system. Nothing on subspace either."

T'Pol interrupted, "It appears to be inhabited by a prewarp society. There is evidence of surface to air vessels that can reach beyond the atmosphere."

Archer turned back to Hoshi. "But this signal came in on a subspace frequency?" She nodded. Archer went on. "Well, that's a bit of a mystery, isn't it? It would appear that there's someone down there who doesn't belong. Someone who knows our address. Let's take a look. Mr. Mayweather. Alter course."

Hoshi reminded him that the doctor was sleeping. "Oh well," he said, "in that case, do your best."

Dr. Kaife stirred to the sound of his phone. He resisted. He was pleasantly exhausted from the day's activities. The phone rang again and then stopped. Five minutes later, it rang again. Just twice. At that, Kaife was awake.

He got out of bed and moved to his computer. He had an automated message from his lab. There was a signal coming in on the device. He got dressed and waited at his table with a glass of water. It was still too cold to go out.

One hour before he felt he could leave, he called the major. He'd want to know about this breakthrough. Then he called Kenu. They'd need him to try and decipher any message that had come through.

Zhenah was waiting for him at the lab. He looked vicious. "This had better be worth it."

"A message from the aliens should be," he responded. The facility seemed eerie that morning. He was not used to being there when so few people were about.

The lab itself was the exact opposite of the quiet corridors. Several computers had come to life once the signal was received. The device itself didn't move or display anything of note. But there was definitely something coming in. Unfortunately, it wasn't in words but in long and short pulses like the message in the desert. Kaife put a recording device next to it and set it to record. That's when Kenu entered. His eyes widened at the door, then narrowed. "Not that damn code," he complained.

Kaife motioned Zhenah and Kenu further into the lab where their conversation wouldn't interfere with the recording. "It's not the same as what they sent in the desert," he told them. "It's a response. We need to try and understand what it means."

"Why now?" Zhenah asked. His impatience was obvious. "They've had months. Why during Turn?"

"Wait," Kenu interrupted. "It just looped. Can I have paper and pen?"

Kaife pulled the requested items from his desk. Kenu used them to mark horizontal lines for the longer pulses and vertical ones for the shorter pulses. Kaife left him to it and pulled Zhenah aside. "Should we try to reply?"

"What?" Zhenah focused hard on him. "Reply? Why would we want to do that?"

"We could get an idea of where they are," Kaife replied. "It could be that this message is very old, that it was sent when the aliens crashed but took months to get here. That would mean they are very far away. Or they could be close enough to send a message in real time. And that would mean they are very close."

"And if they are close, is it because they were passing by here?" Zhenah asked. "Or because someone called them?"

Kaife was glad to see Zhenah thinking more or less clearly. "Still, to do so would be epic. We'd be trying to make contact with potentially hostile aliens. If they are not close, we'd be confirming our existence. If they are close, they'd know we have their people."

"And that could be bad." Zhenah scratched his chin. "Maybe they're not hostile. The alien here doesn't seem hostile. Maybe we could scare them off."

"How?" Kaife wasn't so sure Zhenah was thinking clearly after all. He was making some unscientific leaps.

Zhenah ignored him. "But first we need to know why the call came now. Find out what caused it. I will talk to the Lesser Winged who stayed to care for the alien and the other subjects."

Archer had ordered a response be sent to the transmission. In ancient Morse code as the caller had sent part of his message. He had an ulterior motive that T'Pol could appreciate. It was a test to see if they could transmit at all through the interference. With the help of a probe anchored just below the interference band, they could. But there had been no reply.

T'Pol had been in her lab since she left the Bridge to analyze the data from the probe more fully. The shuttlepod sent to investigate the origin of the subspace message was missing, but she had now come to a hypothesis to explain why. She'd called Trip down to share it.

T'Pol didn't bother looking up when Trip entered the lab. "Yes, I would like your thoughts on a hypothesis I have been working on. I am attempting to isolate the sensor data on the intermittent radiation burst recorded by the probe."

"Mind if I take a look?" Trip was right behind her.

T'Pol stepped away to give him access. "I've isolated the frequency of the wavelength." Trip squinted and shook his head slightly. T'Pol changed the display to show what she theorized was the crash site. "I have increased the sensor resolution," she explained as she zoomed in. "The shuttlepod intersected with the radiation burst and trailed the radiation through the atmosphere. It dissipated as the shuttle descended, but it can still be seen faintly in this area, the projected landing site for the shuttlepod."

Trip frowned. "There's no shuttlepod."

"Not now," she replied. She changed the display again. "There is a higher concentration of carbon in the soil at this location . . ." She pointed to a depression in the ground. ". . . than in the area surrounding it. Except in this direction." She pulled her finger from the highest concentration backward along the radiation trail. "It ends here, seventy miles from a native city in the south."

Trip turned to look at her. "Okay," he said. If she were reading his expression correctly, he was reluctant to reach the conclusion on his own.

She offered him another piece of evidence. "The radiation trail grows stronger exponentially as it radiates out from the highest concentrations of carbon."

He turned back to the display. "But the carbon increases as you go toward the depression." He paused a moment and then dropped his head between his shoulders. "You're saying the shuttlepod crashed there."

"That is my hypothesis," she said. She knew he would not like to hear that.

"But there's no debris." He pointed to the depression, where, in truth, there was no visible evidence of a crash.

"There was," she corrected.

"Was?" He turned to look at her again. "There's another piece you aren't showing me yet."

T'Pol changed the display back to the radiation burst. "I have seen this before, though in smaller quantities." She picked up her scanner off the counter. "Come with me."

She led him out of the lab and he followed without comment. She stopped in front of Daniels' quarters and their security seal. She took a scan and then handed the scanner to him. He grew very still but she could see he had recognized it. "Time travel?"

"That," she said, "is my hypothesis. These are chronoton particles, for lack of a better term. While the Vulcan Science Academy denies the possibility, I have had to yield my own beliefs to that possibility. I have been to your world in the past. The captain claims to have been to the future. I have been using my free time to study this phenomenon."

Trip nodded and then stated her hypothesis completely. "You think the shuttle crashed in the past," he said. "That's why there's no debris, but there is an increase in carbon along the path of the crash, ending in the depression." He was frowning. "How far in the past?"

T'Pol answered truthfully. "I have not yet determined that." They were quiet a moment and she watched him. His frown deepened and his eyes gleamed. He was beginning to grieve. It was premature. "We do not have any evidence to assume that the shuttlepod's crew were killed in the crash."

"We don't have any evidence they survived either." He rubbed his hand through his hair. "What does the radiation trail have to do with it all? You made a point of its exponential increase as it goes away from the dep--" He stopped for a breath. "--The crash site."

T'Pol understood his question. "The probe began its descent along the same trajectory initially. At the point closest to the interference layer, the particle density is highest. It's exponential decay rate does not suggest that it simply dissipated as the shuttlepod descended. I hypothesize that we can calculate the instant the shuttlepod crashed by the drop-rate in particle density."

Trip took another breath. "Why?"

"Because, those particles closest to the interference layer are the closest to the present."

His expression changed. "I need to hear that transmission," he said and he started walking away.

T'Pol followed with her own question. "Why?" She was unsure of his sudden change in topic.

"Because if my hypothesis is right," he replied, "we do have evidence that they're alive."

Baezhu returned from his rounds with the animals to Samwize's room only to find Major Zhenah standing beside the bed. "Major?" he stammered. "I--I didn't expect you."

Zhenah turned away from the comatose alien to look at him. "And I didn't expect you. That dolt Hinath had this duty, did he not?"

Baezhu had to think fast. He really hadn't expected the major to have noticed. "He did. I traded him."

"Why?"

"As you said," Baezhu replied, "he's a dolt. This machine has to be monitored closely. A change in the chemical balance of the medications could kill the alien or leave him permanently damaged. And then there are the animals. Last Turn, seventeen didn't survive Hinath's care."

Zhenah appeared to accept that. "So the alien has been asleep since Turn began?"

"More than asleep," Baezhu found it easier when he could stick to some version of truth. "He's been put into a medically-induced coma. It's designed to allow his body to recuperate from surgery without any movement to potentially reinjure him. We've been using this with animals for decades. He can't wake up without the machine."

Zhenah turned to look at it. "The chemical balance."

Baezhu still wasn't sure why Zhenah was there and not out procreating. "I wasn't expecting anyone back for more than a week," he said, hoping the major would tell him why he had come. "It's kind of nice having someone to talk to again."

"This may be the first time we've spoken," Zhenah responded, without, it seemed, taking the hint. "It looks harmless," he remarked, looking down at Samwize. "But is it? What other technology was destroyed in its sky ship? Maybe we should have just killed it out in the desert when we found it and the female."

Baezhu didn't think so, but he was hesitant now to break Zhenah's reverie.

"What about cameras?" the major asked, suddenly changing subjects. "Are they recording?"

"In here?" Baezhu asked in return. "He's in a coma. There's nothing to record."

Zhenah spun around and headed for the door. "We'll see," he spat as he bumped into Baezhu on his way out. Baezhu waited until the major's footfalls faded before he let out a long sigh. That was close.

Trip had no more doubts. T'Pol, though, had to make it scientifically certain. They compared a recording of Malcolm's voice to the recording of the message. After half an hour cleaning the latter up even more, they had enough of a match to draw the conclusion. Malcolm Reed had sent the message.

"We must inform the captain," T'Pol stated.

Trip just nodded. He felt sick. Malcolm really didn't sound well and the Denobulan he seemed to be speaking just didn't fit.

They'd crashed on that planet a year ago, but the message was less than twenty-four hours old. What had Malcolm been through in that year?

T'Pol must have called the captain down because the lab door opened and there he was.

"What have you got?" Archer asked as he walked over to them.

Trip let T'Pol do the talking. "We have determined that the voice on the message is that of Lieutenant Reed," she said.

The captain shook his head. "He was on the Bridge when the call came in."

"We also have evidence that the shuttlepod intersected with chronoton radiation--"

Archer held up a hand and interrupted, "Chronoton?"

"Time travel," Trip managed to say. Then he felt he could talk. "Same radiation as we found in Daniels' quarters."

Archer found a stool and sat down. "He called from the future? Or the past?"

T'Pol replied, "He called approximately eighteen hours ago. The shuttlepod crashed approximately one year ago."

"Then he's alive!" Archer sat up. "And Hoshi! He tapped out Hoshi's name in Morse."

"He tapped out 'Save Hoshi,'" Trip corrected, "and he was speaking in Denobulan at the same time. That alone is weird but it means he was trying to hide what he was saying. They're in trouble."

Archer was silent for a moment. Then he stood up. "I want to go get them." He held up a hand to stop T'Pol who was about to interject. "But the same thing could happen to the next shuttlepod we send down there. We have to find a safe way to do it."

Trip could do that. It was a problem, an engineering problem. "We need to be able to get a shuttlepod past the chronoton radiation."

"We also need to determine the level of cultural contamination," T'Pol said. "He speaks Denobulan," she explained, "to hide what he is saying. There may be little contamination, in which case, we'll need to remove all evidence of humans there. Or there may be too much to remove."

Archer just nodded. "Maybe we'll find out what's happened to them in this year. What kind of help they'll need." He turned to go. "Get on that. Use as many people as you need. And get the doctor to try and translate the message. We're not going anywhere until the three people I sent down there are back on this ship. It's got to be done fast, but this time, we have to do it right."

Hoshi's guard changed. That had been happening this week. She'd heard enough to know why. The mating season was upon them. And that happened only every three years. She had to admit she was curious as to just how they managed it, but her work and her sleeping arrangements didn't facilitate any peeking. The females where she slept didn't seem at all interested and that included the adults, not just the juveniles like Pipa. The night guard in the barracks had changed, too. In fact, she'd even gotten to see a third kind of native. It was more like a Komodo dragon than any dinosaur she could think of. He walked on all four legs and flicked his tongue repeatedly. He walked down the rows of females at night consistently, whereas Gothmog and the others had generally stayed at the front of the room unless something was needed.

The guards in the daytime though seemed to rotate in and out, day by day. And they were all of the toothy T-Rex-with-long-arms type. Oddly, they were the only ones that she generally saw out and about this winter. There were two such females that went with her for the feeding duties. They didn't seem to mind the cold as much as the others.

And it was cold. The wind was up and there had been an ice storm the night before. The heat-lamps had gone out for about thirty minutes and this morning, when she was led out, she found the area sparkling with ice. Every blade of grass, every twig on every tree was encased in crystal. The ground crunched when she walked. It was, in some ways, quite beautiful. But it made her job of sidewalk clearing even harder. The shovel worked relatively well against snow, but it had glanced off the hard ice. She thought an inch might have accumulated on the concrete. She had to slam the side of the shovel down to try and crack it. Then her guard took her to a shed on the far side of the building she was in front of. He opened a crate and took a handful of white crystals and threw it on the concrete just in front of the door.

Salt, she realized. She didn't think carrying it handful by handful was the most efficient method, but she didn't think it was in her interest to let them realize her intelligence. They were, after all, torturing the one they thought smarter. The one who didn't understand their languages.

Besides, doing it this way drew out the work and passed the hours. They were long hours without Malcolm.

A shuttlepod could work. It could safely get past that pulse. They came like waves on an ocean. They came every "three point two minutes on average," as T'Pol reported. But it was the "on average" that worried Trip. That meant that sometimes they came quicker and sometimes they took longer.

Even if he could get a shuttlepod through the interference layer and between two pulses, there was still the chance of being blown out of the sky by less-than-friendly natives. But there was one other possibility. It couldn't hold as many people comfortably, but it could drop down through the pulses more quickly. It was more maneuverable and had one other very important feature. It could cloak. The Suliban cell ship would be invisible until the door opened and invisible when it closed again.

One thing was necessary to make this as safe as possible. The cell ship had to be able to communicate with Enterprise through the radiation and interference. He and T'Pol would have that worked out soon. She was overseeing the project to determine cultural contamination. That would require picking up broadcasts and hacking into computer systems on the planet. He'd be able to configure the cell ship to communicate with Enterprise using the method she devised.

So, Trip knew he had the theory. Now he had to test it out. The cell ship needed a going over and he needed a good pilot to fly it.

The pulses stopped. Kenu and Kaife looked up from their desks when the noise stopped. The device was now silent. "They must have finally given up," Kenu said. "Maybe they'll believe their people are dead and leave us alone."

"Maybe they'll think they're dead and come destroy us all," Kaife offered. "Anything on the code yet?"

Kenu bobbed his head. "I've been able to isolate about twenty letters and I think I've got a handle on word and sentence breaks. But which pulse letters correspond to the letters we know on the patches? I don't know how we'll ever figure that out."

"We make the alien tell us," Kaife replied.

The door opened and Major Zhenah entered. "Examine that device. Fingerprints, any evidence it was used to send a message."

"You think someone got in here and used it?" Kaife asked him. "How would he know how when we don't and we've been studying it for months."

"The alien would know how."

Kenu shook his head. "He can't get in here. He can't even walk. Even if he wasn't in a coma, you broke his leg."

Zhenah glared at him, exposing his teeth. "Examine it closely!" He turned and left.

The door to Archer's Ready Room chimed. Archer sighed. He didn't feel ready to stop sulking. "Come in."

Carstairs entered. "I thought you'd like to know, sir, that the computer is beginning to translate some of the broadcasts. The country where the shuttlepod went down is called Zheiren. The broadcasts are from state-run media so we have some inkling of their political structure. We should have a working lexicon in a few hours."

That was promising. "Any news of aliens?"

"Nothing yet, sir," Carstairs replied. "It's definitely not a unified world, though. There are dozens of countries. Zheiren appears to be one of the top two and, judging by the amount of propaganda, I'd say they don't get along well with the other big one, Buftanis. We do have visuals of the natives if you'd like to see them."

Archer had to admit he was curious. He nodded. Carstairs held out a PADD. Archer was taken aback. Lizards. They were lizards.

"That's just one species, sir. There's a news broadcast about the change in leadership in Zheiren. Seems it revolves around three species. May I?"

Archer handed him back the PADD. Carstairs pressed a few controls and the image changed. He handed it back. "These are the Wingeds. They are generally scientists and doctors. They just relinquished the leadership of their ruling council to the Raptors. If you scroll over, you'll see a headshot of the new Head Councilman, Grand Raptor Ussa."

Archer did not much like that last image. There were a lot of long, sharp teeth. "And what is his specialty?" he asked.

"The Raptors are the military. There's also something else making big news. They call it Turn."

Archer handed back the PADD again. "The change in leadership?"

Carstairs shook his head. "No, sir, their tri-annual mating season."

Archer's eye-brows shot up. "Tri-annual?" Once every three years seemed rather depressing. But then Vulcans were once every seven.

"That's why it's big news, sir."

Archer nodded. "This might be a good time to get our people back. While the natives are distracted. See if you can find out how long it lasts. Keep me posted."

Carstairs tipped his head and left. The door swished shut behind him and Archer was alone again. What chance did three humans have against lizards, reptile birds, and dinosaurs? That's what they had looked like. Raptors. Velociraptor, Oviraptor. Long arms ending in sharp claws and a nasty-looking slashing toe on each foot. Yet these were sentient beings. The question remained: Were they hostile?

Archer sighed again. There was a knot in his stomach that wouldn't go away. He realized now that they should have done this before. If they'd taken the time to research the place, the crash may never have happened. The message would never have happened. Or it would but they'd take some time to go down safely. But if that had happened there would be no message. It was like being stuck in a loop. If they'd realized the voice was Malcolm's and ignored it because Malcolm was on the Bridge, would they all be safe now or would some instance of Malcolm be doomed for the rest of his life on that planet?

Zhenah had called each of the scientists in to interview them one by one. He knew this wasn't the best time. He wasn't at his sharpest with the last days of Turn still to go. He wanted to be with the females. His body needed to be. But there was a threat now where there hadn't been before. And Turn did give him some advantage then. He was even more intimidating.

But then the Wingeds were having the same needs and the same aggressiveness. They were less easily intimidated. Burha had no idea that the one who had stayed was not the dim-witted Hinath. Geeben was even less aware. With the alien in a coma, he'd left early and wasn't even at the facility the day before Turn. Bishtae was shocked that Baezhu had stayed. They clearly didn't know.

Hinath was experiencing the same hormones, but he was much easier to intimidate.

"Did you arrange with the other Lesser to rotate shifts at the facility?" Zhenah asked.

"Did something happen to the alien?" Hinath asked in return. He wouldn't look Zhenah in the eye. He was hiding something.

"You did not earn the chance to mate. So you were to remain here," Zhenah reminded him. "So why were you not here?"

"T-time off?" Hinath stammered. "Am I in trouble?"

Zhenah leaned down to put his face right in front Hinath's beak. He growled. "Only if you don't tell me the truth."

Hinath looked ready to cry. "I just kind of had to. When he offered. It was Turn. I may not have earned it but I still felt it. I couldn't control myself."

Zhenah stood up straighter. This was easier than he thought. It was a bit disappointing. "Who offered?"

"Baezhu," the Lesser admitted. "He gave me his two chips."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Hinath stopped breathing for a moment. "This isn't about the chips?"

"I'll forget about it if you tell me what Baezhu got out of this."

Hinath shook his head side to side. "He didn't say. Or at least I didn't hear. When he offered the chips, I couldn't think but to say yes." He thought for a moment. "He didn't want me to tell."

Zhenah let the Lesser go. He wasn't worth any more than he'd already given. He told him to take Baezhu's place and send Baezhu to him. "And tell Bishtae to wake the alien."

Zhenah was boiling with rage by the time Baezhu entered. He fought to control it. He still only had part of the puzzle.

"Why did you lie to me?" he snarled.

"I don't recall lying--"

"You traded with Hinath!" Zhenah yelled.

Baezhu's eyes widened. In guilt or because the yelling startled him? "I--I'd have other chances. Next Turn. Hinath probably wouldn't."

"So you would have him create inferior offspring for Zheiren?" Zhenah stepped closer. Baezhu was smarter than Hinath. Almost as smart as a Greater Winged sometimes. "You had a duty."

Baezhu's shoulder dropped. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

Zhenah leaned in on him. "So was this just about Hinath having the chance to mate or was it that you wanted to be with the alien? Maybe you satisfied your urges while you watched him sleep." He sneered.

Baezhu recoiled. "No! I would never. I just--"

"You are fond of him." Zhenah got in his face. "Sympathetic."

Baezhu stammered for a reply. Zhenah didn't give him time. "Stay here!" he ordered and left. He had an idea.

They met in the Ready Room that night. It had been forty-eight hours since the shuttlepod disappeared. Carstairs looked a bit sick. Trip had a resolute expression. T'Pol, of course, was impassive.

Archer turned first to Trip. "You think we can get them safely?"

Trip nodded. "Yes, sir. The cell ship can drop between the chronoton pulses and cloak as it approaches the planet. They won't even know we're there."

Archer turned to T'Pol then. He wasn't done with Trip, but he knew it would be more complicated than just picking up his people. "Have you found them?"

"We have found one of them," she replied. "A male, presumably Lt. Reed. Cultural contamination is almost nil. An object was seen in the sky approximately one year ago. Reports from a research facility near the desert where the shuttlepod went down began to mention a pair of aliens two days later. I have hacked into the computer system there. Using Carstairs's translations, I wrote an algorithm to find every file pertaining to him."

"Ensign Sato was one of the pair," Carstairs interrupted. "Sorry, sirs."

Archer nodded. "Go on."

"She was there in the beginning. She disappears about seventy days in."

"Disappears?" Archer didn't like the sound of that. "But he said to save her. In Morse. He said to save her. He has to know she can be saved."

T'Pol replied. "We did find one transmission channel to a third party that begins at that time. We have not yet determined the identity of the third party as the transmission channel is highly encrypted. However, it was active within the last thirty days. I also found the first reports of a communications device of alien origin that began soon after the female alien disappears. It is likely Ensign Sato was traded to the third party in exchange for the device."

Damn. Archer hadn't thought they'd be separated. But then, they weren't the only crewmembers on the shuttlepod. "What about Moody?"

Carstairs handed him a PADD. Archer found there a translated document detailing DNA testing of a bone fragment found at a crash site. There was an image of the fragment. It was charred.

"The DNA matches Lt. Moody's DNA on record," T'Pol stated. "It would appear he did not survive the crash."

The report seemed very scientific. It was meticulous. "What kind of research do they do at the facility?" He looked at Carstairs's pained face. But T'Pol answered.

"Biological."

Baezhu tried to remain calm. It was hard. Major Zhenah wouldn't even be here unless something had gone wrong. He knew about the switch with Hinath but it was definitely more about Samwize or he wouldn't have kept him in this cell alone for so long. What had tipped him off? There were no active cameras during Turn so it wasn't that. He was sure he'd gotten past the guards when he retrieved and replaced the communications device. How could Zhenah know?

The door opened and, for a moment, Baezhu could hear Dr. Bishtae protesting loudly in the corridor. But it was just for a second. Zhenah entered, dragging a gasping Samwize by the neck. Once he cleared the doorway, he threw Samwize forward so hard that he slid across the floor and slammed into the toilet in the corner. Now he knew why Bishtae was protesting. Samwize was in no condition to be out of bed.

"You will tell me," Zhenah said very deliberately, "why you gave the alien the communications device you shouldn't have even known about!"

He did now. "How?" The question was out before he knew he'd asked it.

"Your fingerprints on the outside," Zhenah snapped. "The alien's on the inside. He used it. Who did he call? What did he say?"

Baezhu tried to think up a plausible lie even as he wondered how Zhenah had come to suspect the device at all. Had he heard Kenu talk that day?

"I will eat him!" Zhenah growled, stomping closer to Samwize who lay crumpled on the floor. "Piece by piece."

He was dead. It struck Baezhu suddenly. He had to have known this wouldn't end well. But he didn't want Samwize killed on his account. He felt a sudden calm wash over him. He was dead. He didn't matter any more. He'd done what he set out to do. "I wanted him to call for help, for rescue, so he could escape from us."

Zhenah spun around. "Did he?"

Baezhu sighed. "I don't know. I didn't understand a word of it." Across the room, Samwize was struggling into a seated position. It was apparent he was not fully recovered from the anesthesia.

Zhenah got into his face. His breath smelled of fish and rodents. "Was it recorded?"

Baezhu looked up at him. "Of course not."

Zhenah struck him hard across the face, and Baezhu felt a sting and hot liquid on his face. Zhenah's claws on that hand were red. "You're a traitor!" Zhenah screamed.

There was, surprisingly, no fear. Baezhu was angry. "I've committed no crime against Zheiren," he argued. "I acted to help a sentient being."

"You endangered Zheiren needlessly!" Zhenah snapped back. "He may have called his people to attack!"

Baezhu stood up straighter. "If they do, it will be because of the way he was treated here. You endangered Zheiren."

Zhenah snarled and grabbed him by the throat. Baezhu didn't fight him. What good would it do Samwize, or himself? He'd never walk out of the facility a free man. Better to die here than at Yekina.

His lungs fought for breath, and he wondered if that was how Samwize had felt under the water. "You're weak," Zhenah said. His foot came up and Baezhu felt his abdomen open up. A searing wave of pain filled his consciousness, but he had no breath with which to scream. "A Lesser Winged should have known his place."

Zhenah released him and he fell. He still couldn't find a breath. He caught Samwize's pained expression and looked down to see his own intestines spilling from his abdomen. He looked up at Zhenah who took one more swipe at Baezhu's neck. His claws dug in and Baezhu's blood pumped out. He turned his blurring eyesight to Samwize. "I hope they come soon" he mouthed. Then everything went dark and the pain ceased.

Burha pounded on the door. "He's killed Baezhu!"

Bishtae had been bringing the master key to unlock the door as Zhenah had taken the door key with him. But he stopped in his tracks. "Why Baezhu wouldn't--"

"The key!" Burha yelled. "He's going after the alien."

Bishtae handed him the key and looked through the door's window. Zhenah had the alien pinned to the wall several feet off the floor.

The lock clicked and Burha pulled the door open. "Major!"

Bishtae followed him in. Zhenah was startled by their entry. He dropped the alien, who crumpled to the floor. "Get out!" he growled.

"You do not have authority to kill the alien. And that's what you're doing!" Burha reminded him.

"You had no authority to kill Baezhu," Bishtae added, turning back toward the door where the lifeless body of his assistant lay with his intestines spilling out. There was blood everywhere.

"He was a traitor!" Zhenah argued. He took a menacing step toward the scientists.

"The Council decides capital sentences in cases of treason," Burha reminded him. "Have you contacted the Council?"

Zhenah snarled and pushed past them into the corridor. "They stay where they are," he ordered. Bishtae was taken aback by the order. 'They.' Baezhu and the alien. He meant they couldn't remove the body, and they couldn't take the alien back to an examination room.

He had to sit down. This was all happening too fast. He leaned on the bed. The alien, obviously frightened, scrambled away from him as well as he could.

Baezhu a traitor. He never would have thought it. But, then, he hadn't thought it of Enesh either. Baezhu was brilliant, for a Lesser Winged, generous and thoughtful.

"Why was he even here?" Burha asked quietly. He was looking down at Baezhu.

"The device." Both scientists looked up to see Kenu in the doorway. "The one I wasn't supposed to have mentioned. He took it and let the alien use it. He contacted his people. At least we assume it was his people. They replied." All this was said very somberly, as ground-breaking as it was. Bishtae didn't feel like breaking any ground so it was just as well.

"What are you saying?" Burha asked.

Kenu shrugged. "Code, long pulses and short ones. They stand for letters in a language I can't read." He took a deep breath. "I never wanted this."

They were all quiet for a few minutes. Bishtae thought back to Baezhu's questions. His connection with the alien, the quietness he'd fallen into as time went on and the alien's treatment grew harsher. He should have seen that Baezhu was too close to the alien. He should have checked that he had left the facility. How had Baezhu overcome his need to mate and stayed with the alien all those days? Hinath would have been thoroughly frustrated, but he would never have thought to help the alien. Baezhu was smarter and more sensitive. Now, he had committed treason and he was dead.

Burha stood up straighter. "We need to leave. We must not give the Raptors any reason to think we sympathized with a traitor. They'll have us staked properly."

Bishtae knew he was right. He gave one last look to his young protégé. And thought his true name one last time. Baezhu. From now on, he would be called Traitor.

Malcolm waited for the three orcs to leave before he tried calling out to Hoshi.

"Malcolm! I didn't expect--"

He's dead. He couldn't take his eyes off the gory scene by the door. T-Rex killed him.

Hoshi's excitement was gone. "Who's dead, Malcolm?"

Sméagol, he replied, then thought he deserved his real name. Bayzhoo.

"I'm sorry. What about you, Malcolm? Did he hurt you?"

Malcolm's leg was beginning to throb and his chest ached. Small splotches of blood appeared on the shoulders of his makeshift gown where T-Rex had grabbed him before pushing him hard into the wall. Not much. Not yet.

"Not yet?" She sounded worried.

They left the body here. That can't bode well, Hoshi. He took a shaky breath. I'm scared, Hoshi. But I'm also a bit relieved. I'm fairly sure I'll have my way out very soon. I've wanted that. I just don't want it to hurt as much as I expect it will. And I never want to leave you behind.

Hoshi took a minute to answer. "There's nothing for me here except you. If you go, I go. I think I have a way. And I think it will hurt, too, for awhile anyway."

Use the cold, he told her. It's supposed to be a peaceful way to die.