Hoshi and the others reached the last coop. One of the other females carried the sack of feed while Hoshi and the other filled big, shallow bowls with the feed pellets. In this weather, the creatures were staying indoors so they had to enter the outer cage area and push the bowls in through slots near the floor.

Hoshi knew she was running out of time. She had to do something or she'd never get away. The other females had been agitated since mating season started without them. They must have been nearing maturity. Maybe she could use that agitation.

The Raptor female started forward to enter the cage but Hoshi rushed her, and, squeezing past her, caused her to stumble. Hoshi fell but the snow cushioned her fall. The Raptor kept her footing though not without a few awkward steps to balance herself. One of them turned out to be very fortunate for Hoshi. The large, cocked-back claw on one of the Raptor's feet scraped across the bare part of Hoshi's leg. Her blood felt hot on her cold skin.

The Raptor started to sniff. She smelled it. Hoshi stood up, leaving her food bowl spilt in the snow. She pushed the Raptor with both hands as hard as she could. The Raptor rocked back and had to steady herself again. And now, she was angry. She lunged for Hoshi, sweeping out those long arms with their sharp claws. Hoshi's coat took most of the blow, but it knocked her down again.

The guard began to yell. He tried to calm the Raptor down. He ordered the other to stay right where she was and entered the cage, just as the Raptor female inside went for Hoshi's midsection with that claw. "No hurting!" the guard yelled, then he struck the female with his cow-prod-like truncheon. She yelped and reluctantly stepped back, growling as she went. Hoshi stayed down to see how this would play out.

The guard turned to leave. But the female lunged at Hoshi one more time, and he had to hit her again. He looked lost. Finally, he did what she had hoped. The only safe thing. He used a remote to zap her in the neck. Hoshi went limp, but she could still watch as he forced the female out of the cage and locked the door behind him. "I'll come back for you," he told her. Then he prodded the Raptor females back the way they had all come.

I won't be here when you do, she thought in response. Ten minutes. She could do ten minutes. The snow slowed their walking down. It was deep and coming down hard. They disappeared from her sight within a few minutes.

She was starting to get cold. She couldn't brush the snow off of her as it fell. She concentrated on moving her foot, just waiting for the moment it actually would. Malcolm, please answer! It worked. I'm alone.

She listened hard but there was nothing in return. She imagined the console and turned up the volume as far as it would go. Still, she heard nothing but the twittering creatures in the coop. A few intrepid ones crept out cautiously to snag a morsel of food before dashing back inside. They reminded her of squirrels.

Finally, her foot moved. She tried to sit up, feeling the minutes and her chance to get away passing her by. She laid back down and counted seconds. After one hundred twenty, she tried again. She felt weak but she moved. Slowly, she got to all fours and then used the wall of the cage to pull herself upright.

The guard probably knew the paralysis wouldn't last. That's why he had latched the door. He didn't expect she was smart enough to unlatch it. Now that her limbs were responding better, she reached through the metal wires of the cage and easily released the latch. She looked out toward the barely-visible fence. It was time.

She took off the coat and booties and left them in the snow where she had fallen. Then she stepped out and latched the door again. She was cold but she didn't care. She walked away from the cage, and, when she felt strong enough, she ran, stepping high in the snow.

It was a long way to run like that, and she kept thinking about the guard coming back. She didn't see the pond until she'd fallen into it. The water was cold, but only had a crust of ice covering it. She broke through and got soaked. It wasn't deep though and she stood back up, shivering hard in the cold. She was careful to step around the edge of the pond then. She could now see the tall trees and the fence beyond. It was more of a wall. One tree seemed to have a good set of branches: some low enough that she could reach them to climb and one long one that stretched over the wall. She just hoped there wasn't a city on the other side. A cliff would be better.

Climbing was hard. She couldn't feel her fingers, and they moved stiffly. She got up on the first limb. Malcolm, I'm coming! She thought of him and it gave her courage. She moved to the next branch, and the next. In five minutes or so, she was at the height of the wall. The long branch was still a bit higher. She saw trees on the other side of the wall. No lights. At least not in her limited visibility.

She had to maneuver a bit to get to that branch and she nearly slipped. The hardest part though, was crawling out onto that snow-covered limb. She walked at first, holding other branches above her for stability. But she had to let go of those as she neared the wall. She crouched down and tried to crawl.

But the branch couldn't hold her weight. She heard it crack and lunged forward just before it snapped. She hit the wall on the way down and landed hard on rocks below. Her body exploded into pain and she lost consciousness.

Trip waited while Woods peered around through the binoculars. Woods stepped back and changed the setting on his rifle. "The sensors didn't do them justice," he whispered. "They're huge." Travis had set down a few hundred yards from the facility, and Woods and Trip had walked to within sight and tucked in behind a rock.

"Bigger'n those guards back at that trellium mine?" Trip whispered back. His heart was already pounding. Malcolm was either in that facility or dying out in the desert.

"Come to think of it," Woods said, "no. They're about the same." He put his weapon to his shoulder. "There's one at the door. You ready, sir?"

"Time's a wastin'," Trip replied. Woods got to his knees and fired off two quick rounds. Trip heard a muted thud and they were off. Staying behind Woods, Trip glanced at his tricorder as he ran. "There are cameras," he pointed out. "Let's hope there's not enough people on duty to be watching." He looked down at the creature Woods had stunned. It was immense and reptilian. But not like the Xindi and not like the guards. This wasn't humanoid. It did indeed look more like a relatively small dinosaur dressed in armor. He gripped his phase pistol harder and hoped there weren't any more of them inside. He didn't like his chances if it came to hand-to-hand combat.

"And by the time they see the recordings, we'll be gone," Woods told him. They stepped through the door and found themselves in a corridor lit with a warm red light. There were light boards along the walls, though they were dimmed. Some of them still held films of x-rays of the internal parts of something. Trip thought he recognized a lung. Animal sounds twittered from the various rooms they passed, but Trip could not see anyone moving in any other part of the building he scanned. They were in a hospital or laboratory of some sort. The animals must have been in cages, he surmised.

Trip led the way now, with Woods keeping guard. He was able to see the schematics now on his tricorder. There was a lot of power coming from a room toward the center of the building. "Could be refrigeration," he said.

"Let's go," Woods replied. Trip followed the tricorder's promptings as it began to register signs of humanity. There was another guard near the door, but Woods took him down before he could lift his gun. Woods stepped in first, "Clear."

Trip was glad for that. He stepped past him and found multiple readings of human DNA. Trip took the pack off his back and started opening doors. He had a list of medical terms in Zheiren downloaded to his tricorder, and he used that to find the vials that belonged to Hoshi and Malcolm. There was mostly blood, kept in cold packs for infusion. But there was also a vial of white liquid Trip did not particularly want to know about. And a lone bone fragment. He took the blood because it might be useful. And he took the bone. Then he set charges in the freezer and refrigerator that held the other samples. They would go off in thirty minutes. He picked up the pack again and they were out.

The tricorder showed two guards at another door. He showed Woods. "Could be important to need two guards during Turn." Woods nodded and they went there next. Four shots and two stunned dinosaurs later they found themselves in a lab filled with communications equipment. There were diagrams of the communicator on the desk there. He started looking, opening up every drawer, looking in every cubby hole and nook. He did not find the communicator itself. "It doesn't seem to be here."

"Blow the whole place up," Woods suggested. "If it's here, it'll be destroyed."

Trip looked at the size of the room and the amount of material. "We're going to need something bigger here." He set his pack on the desk and Woods pointed out the right explosives for the job.

"Set it for twenty-five," Woods said. "It'll go off about the same time."

Trip found a spot under a table near the center of the room and set the device.

He changed the setting on the tricorder. If the communicator was in there, he'd find it. But the ping he got put it in another corridor altogether. "I've got it," he said and he led Woods out of the room. The guards were still down. That was promising. They ran quickly now. Woods checked each intersection and then they moved on again. They turned left at the next corridor and Trip caught a hint of an odor. As they moved farther, the odor became more noticeable, and more horrendous. They turned right again, and an outer wall of the building became visible on the tricorder. The stench was stronger and it caused Trip's eyes to water. Maybe that was why he hadn't seen the movement.

"Haeru!"

Woods pulled at Trip's elbow, and they quickly backed into the closest of the rooms. Trip looked around while Woods guarded the door. There were no animals in this room, but there was a large metal table and stands loaded with surgical equipment. Trip really hoped this was a hospital if this was where Malcolm had called from. He listened for the footfalls of what he assumed was another guard, but he couldn't hear anything. The tricorder, unfortunately offered no help, as the instruments in this room were giving off too much electromagnetic interference.

Suddenly Woods went flying backwards, right into Trip. To Wood's credit, he kept a hold of his weapon. Trip couldn't say the same for the tricorder. "Haeru na oshe!" He looked up into the snarling, sharp-toothed face of another reptilian guard, its own weapon pointed right at the two of them on the floor.

Then something unexpected happened. The creature lowered its weapon slightly and held out one of its arms to them, its three fingers spread out. "Ssamwaese?" it said.

"Huh?" Trip replied as he and Woods slowly got to their feet.

The guard holstered his weapon and ducked his head to look at them on the floor. "Akea Ssamwaese," it said, then pointed to Trip and Woods. "Ssamwaeze Gamzhee."

Trip had no idea what akea meant but the rest of it sounded a lot like something he'd heard in a movie recently. "Samwise Gamgee?"

"Sir?" Woods asked, not taking his hand off his rifle or his eye off the guard, who was now bobbing his head up and down. If it had been human, Trip would have thought that a nod.

"The Lord of the Rings," Trip replied.

"Ikoh Ssam?" the creature said, moving its hands in a manner that indicated it wanted them to follow. It backed out of the doorway.

"He might have used it as a code name," Trip guessed. "I doubt these people have ever seen the movie."

The guard looked down the corridor to the left and the right, then back at them. "Ka!" it said, its voice softer but insistent. "Tafa!"

"Do we trust him?" Woods asked, as he stood up.

"He's not shootin' us," Trip replied. "And if he knows where Mal--Samwise is, I don't see as we have a choice."

They stepped out into the corridor and the guard took off to the left, the same way they were heading before the guard had caught them. Trip and Woods had to run to keep up. Trip pocketed the tricorder so he could put his other hand over his nose. The stench was awful.

"Smells like something died," Woods whispered beside him, and Trip had to agree. He just wondered why whatever it was hadn't been cleaned up, this being a hospital and all. He holstered his phase pistol and took out the tricorder again. He skidded to a stop at another branching corridor. "I really hope it's not Lt. Reed."

"I didn't get human before on the tricorder. Not enough of it anyway," Trip told him, though he was a bit worried himself. If Reed wasn't there, was he already at Yekina? "But the communicator's there."

They kept going. The smell was very intense here. Down the corridor was a row of narrow rooms with windowed doors on each side. Only one door was open. The guard was standing there, waiting for them.

"Baezhu," the guard said, and Trip thought it sounded sad. It didn't follow them, but waited there as he and Woods moved toward the open door.

The dead thing was most definitely there. Trip felt the bile rise up in his throat. The communicator was there, broken into several pieces on the floor, and one of the natives was similarly disemboweled at the far end of the room.

Then he noticed what else was in the room. A bed. A small bed. Small for one of the natives, but just about right for a human. The sheets were dirty and there were leather straps at the sides and top. Blood was smeared on the walls in places, even the far wall. Trip used the tricorder. Not all the blood came from the dead native. Malcolm had been here. But blood was DNA. It had to go.

Woods scooped up the communicator and dumped the pieces into one of his pockets. Trip felt him tugging at his pack. "He's not here, sir. Head out."

Trip stepped back out the door and let Woods set the charge. The guard was still waiting for them, nervously looking to either side as if he was afraid they all might get caught. Trip wondered why this guard was trying to help them. As they caught up with it, it started off again and Trip realized they were heading toward that outer wall he'd seen on the tricorder.

They reached an immense metal door, and the guard opened it to the cool night air beyond. He stepped partly out and pointed one of his long arms toward a hill on the horizon. "Ssam eko ne-ira."

Woods went out first, his rifle ready again. "Clear, sir," he called and Trip went out.

"Baezhu hoora Ssam," the guard said. "Teu kala Baezhu. Ar hooreh aedu"

There was a path, pavement covered in dry, sandy dirt but still visible in the light of the doorway. It led away from the city and toward the hill.

"Teu kala Ssam," the guard went on. He stepped out of the way of the door and let it close behind him. "Tafa!" He pointed again to the hill.

"I don't know why you helped us," Trip told the guard, "but thank you." Then he turned to Woods. "Shoot him."

"Sir?"

"He's a traitor now. They'll kill him like they did the guy in the room. Shoot him so he won't have to answer so many questions later."

Woods nodded. He made it quick, firing as soon as his weapon was raised. The guard went down.

Then Woods and he were running again, and in fifteen minutes, they were at the top of the hill. Trip was breathing hard. At least the air's clean, he thought, thankful to be away from the stench of the dead native. In the room where they had held Malcolm. He didn't want to think what they had done with him, strapped to that bed.

Woods pulled out his binoculars and Trip used the tricorder for the same purpose. "I see him," Woods said, adding, "I think." He didn't sound too sure. "Down by that ravine."

Trip expanded the range of his scan and verified it. "Human," he said. "That's him alright. Something's with him, though."

They ran again, slowing only as they neared the ravine. Trip's legs felt like rubber by the time they dropped behind a ridge. Woods had the binoculars out again as he peered over the ridge. "What the--" he said.

A loud yelp sounded from Malcolm's direction, but it didn't sound human. He checked the tricorder and saw the thing that was with him was still there, though a bit further away now. "What?" Trip asked.

Woods put the binoculars away, and lifted his rifle. He changed the setting as he explained. "Predator of some sort. Something hit it, seemed to shock it."

That explained the yelp. Trip checked his phase pistol, setting it to kill. Woods took aim with his rifle, popping up the sight so he could see. "It's coming back for him," he said. "I can get it from here."

"Do it," Trip ordered. Woods pulled the trigger and the animal howled. Woods took another shot and it was quiet again.

"Damn!" Woods exclaimed, letting the rifle fall back on its strap as he stood. "The shock," he said. "It also hit the lieutenant."

Trip paused only long enough to verify that there were no other creatures but the three of them for a mile in any direction. He snapped the tricorder shut. "Let's go get 'im."

As they ran closer, Trip began to make out Malcolm's form lying on the side of a hill with his head on the low end. It was still too dark to tell what his condition was but the closer they got the clearer it got. Woods was faster and reached him first. By the point Trip could see clearly, he stopped running altogether, frozen to the spot by what he was seeing. Malcolm was lying on his back, wearing only an ill-fitted, blood-soaked gown. Stakes of some sort pinned his arms to the ground. This was Yekina. They were too late.

"Sir!" Woods called and Trip swallowed the bile in his throat. "He's alive."

Malcolm was alive. Trip could see it now. His chest rose and fell in uneven jerks and his eyes were open. Trip forgot himself and Woods and Travis and everything else and ran to his friend. Malcolm didn't turn his head or move much at all. Trip put his face in front of Malcolm's staring eyes and hoped his friend could see him.

"Malcolm," he called. "Can you hear me?"

Trip thought he saw Malcolm's mouth move. "Trip?" Malcolm breathed, looking up at him.

"I'm here, Malcolm," Trip told him. "You just hang on and we'll get you out of here."

Malcolm said something. Trip could only make out "long enough."

And then it hit. It felt to Trip like sparks running through his entire body. He nearly fell back into the ravine, as his muscles contracted.

The next thing he knew someone was saying, "Commander?" It took a few seconds before he could see who was saying it. Woods. "You alright?"

Trip nodded, still trying to get a good breath. "Sorry about that," the MACO said. "Pressure plate set it off. Apparently to keep the predators away."

Trip stood and walked back toward Malcolm to see if he was still breathing. "We need to stop that." He took out the tricorder and looked for the power source. It was near Malcolm's left leg, or rather, where the cable attached to his left leg was anchored. "I'll get it." He moved over there, careful to stay on the far side of it. He brushed sand away and found a small box that contained a large battery and several leads. He took out the battery and tossed it down in the ravine. "Good to go!" he called. Woods nodded and opened his pack beside Malcolm.

Woods checked his tricorder and set to work with pressure bandages and splints. "Back's in decent shape. Won't have to worry about that, but he's got a collapsed lung." He used his knife to dig out a hole beside Malcolm and then poked a scalpel into Malcolm's side. He inserted a tube right behind it and blood rushed out. Malcolm drew a deeper breath but he was still breathing in small uneven gasps. He opened his mouth in an attempt to talk, but only managed to croak out one word: "Hoshi."

"We're gonna get her, too," Trip said. "Don't you worry about that." He addressed Woods. "I can cut the cables but I'm not sure yet how to get at the stakes."

Woods held the tube so that the blood drained into the hole he'd made. Woods went back to the tricorder. "They're deep," he said, indicating the stakes in Malcolm's arms. "Maybe half a meter. We can't just pull them out without guaranteeing we infect the wounds and cause him more pain."

"Then we'll have to cut them," Trip decided. He wasn't going to cause Malcolm any more pain than necessary. "Use your plasma torch. We got anything to help the pain?"

Woods nodded as he activated his torch. "But we can't give it to him."

"Why not?" Trip, using his own plasma torch, snapped the central cable first. Malcolm's legs dropped to the ground. With slack now in the outer two cables, Trip was able to use the torch on them without Malcolm's legs moving again.

Woods was on Malcolm's right so Trip went to the left. Trip placed his flashlight so it faced Malcolm's elbow and then started to dig around the stake. But he didn't find much sand. He found wood. He thought for a minute. "Forty-five-degree angle, cutting deep, we'll slice through that stake less than an inch down." When he could see an inch of the stake, he started cutting.

"Drugs could kill him," Woods finally answered. "I'm really surprised he's still here. He's been here for hours, Commander. He's sunburned. Badly. Probably nearing heat stroke by the time the sun went down. Now he's hypothermic."

Trip moved the torch in a circle, cutting at that forty-five-degree angle. The stake was cut, as was a wedge of the wood around it. Malcolm's left arm was free. Trip lifted it gently and spun the wood off the threads.

Woods had the other cut loose, so Trip took out his communicator and signaled Travis. Then he just sat by Malcolm's head and brushed the rather long hair off his forehead while Woods continued working. Malcolm's lips were moving but Trip couldn't hear anything. "Malcolm?" he said. "Stay with me." Malcolm gasped and tried to move his legs as Woods moved him to get a blanket underneath him. His eyes scrunched closed in pain, but all Trip could do was tell him to keep breathing. "You can do this, Malcolm."

Woods very gently adjusted Malcolm's arms so that they were beside him on the blanket. Malcolm's eyes stayed closed and his face contorted weakly into a silent grimace as his breath came and went in sobs. Trip realized he didn't have the strength to even cry out. "Just a little bit longer," Trip told him.

Woods finished preparing Malcolm as a space opened up in the night sky ten meters to their right. "We're ready." The space revealed the well-lit interior of the cell ship and Travis at the controls.

Woods had spread another blanket over Malcolm's form. "Get his head," Woods said, "and back into the ship. I'll get his legs."

Trip nodded and helped to lift Malcolm with the blanket as they moved quickly toward the ship. Malcolm's face was red in the light of the ship. "Anyone coming our way?" Trip called to Travis when they had gotten close enough.

"Not yet, sir." Travis said. "All clear. How's Malcolm? From the look on your face, I'm guessing it's not good."

Trip didn't have time to give him a real answer. Just in case Malcolm was still conscious, he didn't want to mention just how bad it looked. "It's not," he told him and he sat back into the ship and started scooting back, pulling the blanket--and Malcolm--in with him. As soon as Malcolm's legs were in, the MACO ran back to the spot with the stakes. Trip saw him place an explosive there. He ran back and jumped in, shutting the door.

"Take us home, Travis," Trip ordered. Malcolm was shivering under the blanket and still breathing in ragged gasps. His eyes were opened, but he stared straight ahead as if he wasn't really seeing anything. "We're goin' home, Malcolm," Trip told him, holding him to his chest in the cramped ship. "You're gonna be fine."

"As fast as you can, Ensign," Woods added.

Travis had been watching Malcolm with wide-open eyes and concern written on his face. Trip guessed his face could be read like that, too. But Travis snapped back to his controls. "Aye, sir."

"I'm not a sir," Woods reminded him with a small smile.

"I don't care," Travis told him, and the ship began to lift.

"Try and keep it smooth, Travis," Trip told him. "I don't want to jar him."

Travis nodded. "How is he?" he asked.

Woods didn't spare him. "He's dying. Thus the hurry. And it will have been a long, torturous death," he added glumly and wiped the back of one hand across his face. Then he pulled his pack off his back and fished for something. He came up with a pack of water and a clean cloth. He poured some of the water onto the cloth then contorted as much as he could to reach Malcolm behind Travis's chair. He handed the cloth to Trip. "Wipe his face, gently."

Trip nodded and brushed the hair from Malcolm's forehead. His skin was splotchy and red. The skin on his arms and legs were worse, beet red even in the dim light of the cell ship. He'd been in the sun for hours. "You're gonna be alright, Malcolm," he said, trying not to choke on the words. He brushed the wet cloth over Malcolm's forehead and cheeks. Woods leaned over and put the pack to Malcolm's lips and let a little water trickle in. Malcolm didn't swallow, but he also didn't choke. It probably was just enough to moisten his parched mouth.

"We broke orbit," Travis reported. "Three minutes to interference."

"Can you get a message through?" Woods asked.

Travis checked his sensors. "Yeah, they've got the tether out."

"Open a channel to Sickbay."

Malcolm blinked and his gaze shifted just a bit when his eyes opened again. "You can do this, Malcolm," Trip whispered. "Just keep breathin'."

"Channel open," Travis reported.

"Phlox," said the doctor's voice.

"We'll need you in the bay," Woods told him. "Gurney, crash kit, blood, oxygen. He's critical." He finished by ticking off vitals.

"I'll be there. What's your ETA?"

"Two point five minutes if we don't have to wait for a chronoton pulse," Travis replied.

"Understood. I'll route you to the Bridge."

"Bridge," T'Pol's voice came over the comm.

"We're just over a minute to the interference, Subcommander," Travis told her. "I need a window."

"Acknowledged." T'Pol's calm tone annoyed Trip. Malcolm was dying in his arms. He didn't want calm. "Reduce speed by point one seven percent and you should come though just after a pulse."

"Reducing speed is not so great right now, Commander." Travis sounded panicked. That was better.

"You will arrive less than 2 seconds later than if you kept present speed and there were no pulse. There is, however, a pulse."

"Right," Travis sighed. "Reducing speed."

"Point one nine now."

"Acknowledged."

Two seconds, Trip thought. Malcolm can last two seconds more. I hope. "Stay with us, Malcolm. We'll get you to Phlox. He's gonna help you." He turned to Woods. "Can he even hear me?"

"Maybe," Woods replied. "It can't hurt."

Malcolm just kept gasping.

"Thirty seconds to interference," Travis reported.

"As smooth as you can, Ensign," Woods said.

"As I can," Travis replied. "Smooth doesn't work there."

Malcolm's gasps came slower now. Not now! Trip thought. "Hang on, Malcolm. That's an order."

And Malcolm turned his eyes toward Trip's voice. He gulped in another breath then breathed out, "Trip." Trip wouldn't have heard it if Malcolm's face hadn't been so close to his own.

"Malcolm, you gotta breathe," Trip whispered back.

Another gulp, "Tell." Gasp. "Hoshi."

"You're gonna tell her yourself, Malcolm. We'll get her next, I promise."

"Here it comes!" Travis warned, and then the ship began to shake. To Travis's credit, it wasn't as rocky as the trip down had been. But it didn't do Malcolm any favors. His gasps sounded more like chokes, and his eyes got just a tad wider. Trip couldn't imagine the kind of pain Malcolm was in when they found him, but clearly, the jostling made it worse.

And once the jostling stopped, so did Malcolm's gasps. "Malcolm!" Trip cried out. He waited a moment for another breath but it didn't come. Instead, Malcolm just seemed to sink down into his chest. "He's stopped breathing!"

"Floor it, Travis!" Woods called out. He put a hand to Malcolm's throat. "There's a pulse. Weak, but it's still there. Breathe! Damn it!"

Trip looked up and saw Enterprise looming closer. And closing fast. The bay doors were opening.

"Just wide enough to get us in," Travis said. He must have called the ship. "Then close them. We need Phlox!"

"Understood," Trip heard.

"It stopped."

Trip looked back down at Malcolm. No! His chest hurt. His throat hurt. So far. Malcolm had come so far.

Trip felt a thud and realized they had docked. Woods pulled back and edged closer to the door. Trip counted the seconds until it opened.

Woods was out before the door had fully opened. There was a flurry of movement behind him. And then Woods pulled at the blanket around Malcolm's legs and whisked him out of the ship. Trip had to react fast to slow the descent of Malcolm's head. And then he was gone.

Travis didn't get up, but Trip saw him lean over the fight console. And then he saw T'Pol through eyes growing cloudy with tears. She did something uncharacteristic. She held out her hands to them both.

Travis shook his head. "We're gonna get Hoshi," he said. "We have to get her."

T'Pol nodded and dropped that hand. "You'll stay with Malcolm," she said to Trip.

Stay. Would he need to stay if Malcolm was dead? Suddenly all the other sounds in the bay flooded his ears. Woods was talking in a rushed voice. Phlox was calling out orders. He would have just pronounced him dead, Trip realized. Malcolm's not lost yet! He took T'Pol's hand and let her half-pull him to the edge of the cell ship. Just as they were carting Malcolm toward the door.

"I'm coming with him," he said and he stood up.

Dr. Bishtae had volunteered to stay at the lab for the remainder of Turn. He'd lost all desire to mate after Baezhu's death and then the alien's execution. He'd tried sleeping but that wasn't working either. He'd had nightmares that the alien was staking him to the ground. Instead, he'd gone to his office to draw up a death certificate. He'd sign it in the morning after he'd officially confirmed the death.

Now all he had was everything they'd already learned. A years' worth of records detailing anatomical facts of the most amazing creature to ever set foot on Sharu. A sentient primate who'd come from another world. He watched video taken through the months. He'd seen them all before. But perhaps he'd see something new in them.

He pulled up the one from the time they'd drugged him to talk. It was the first time they'd heard more than one word from him. The alien rambled on and on, and Bishtae found he could sense when the language changed. He kept it playing in the background and pulled up the records of the brain scan and vocal cords.

Then the talking stopped and he heard static. He switched back to the video and stopped it. It was just static. The images were gone with the audio. He wondered what had gone wrong. He went back to the record of the examination of the brain. The images disappeared first, then the words began to dissolve. In a panic, Bishtae turned off the computer. Then he remembered the files were on a server and backed up in the capitol. He picked up the phone to call the network team there. A Monitor answered the other end. Bishtae tried to tell him that he needed the files restored from backup. But the Monitor interrupted, saying the servers were being attacked there and he didn't have time to talk.

Bishtae hung up the phone and ran down the corridor toward the server room. He turned a corner and nearly tripped on a guard lying prone on the floor. Another guard lay a few feet away. These were meant to guard Kaife's laboratory, though that research was also hampered when Gaezhur, in a fit of rage, had taken the device to the alien's cell and crushed it under his powerful foot. The lab was dark. Bishtae tried nudging the guard at his feet, and the latter groaned.

"What happened here?" Bishtae demanded.

"Huh?" the guard asked.

Bishtae changed direction and ran to the Security room. No one was on duty there, due to Turn, but the cameras were active. He didn't see anyone suspicious, but he did see guards down at the main doors. One of them was Kahrae. Bishtae reversed that feed. His eyes grew wide. He saw Kahrae rise from the ground in reverse and then two figures move backwards toward him. He backed into the main doors and they followed. Perhaps Kahrae had followed them and was shot.

Bishtae looked for another feed. The figures were dressed like the aliens had been. One of them had worn the same uniform exactly. They were his people! He backed up to the feed on the cell where Baezhu's body was. He saw them enter in reverse. The one in the other uniform knelt, stood up, and then knelt again nearer to Baezhu's body. They left. Bishtae ran it forward again. He could see their faces. They were the same species! They'd come for him!

The kneeling one had picked up the pieces of the communications device and left something else. Bishtae left the booth and ran there. He was breathless by the time he reached it. There was something there in the middle of the room. He could see it blinking through the window in the door.

He ran again. He realized what it was. The computer files, all their research, all evidence. It was a bomb. They were destroying the evidence. Maybe the whole lab. It was too cold outside, but he had to leave. And he wanted to see them. He ran toward the Cold Storage room. There were environmental suits there. He grabbed one and ran to the outer door where he'd seen Kahrae fall on the tape.

Kahrae was just waking as Bishtae ran out. Bishtae grabbed his arm and half-dragged the groggy young Raptor away from the door. Then he left him in the sand and hurriedly put on the suit. He could feel his limbs growing stiff.

"You saw them," he told Kahrae. "They were like him! Did they go to him?"

Kahrae pointed a shaky arm in the direction of Yekina. It was awkward to run in the suit but the adrenaline was flowing through Bishtae. Maybe he could find them still there. He was losing everything else. He got a few dozen yards before he heard the blasts behind him. He looked back to see that Kahrae was safe, and then turned back again to Yekina. He ran on.

He was panting hard when he crested the hill. His legs felt like rubber and spasmed. He started down anyway. As he got closer, he could see another blinking light in the area where the alien had been staked. Still, he had to know. He ran down the hill. He stopped when he was sure, when he could see clearly enough to know the alien was gone. He scanned the area for movement, anything. There was a hairy shape a little further away. Shehra most likely. He saw no other evidence. He backed away, then turned and ran to the top of the hill. He was knocked down by the blast. All the evidence. Even his dying blood. Bishtae looked to the sky and the distant stars. There was a ship up there: Aldastsufra. Another world out there somewhere: Aosdeh.

Captain Archer had approved sending another probe, and T'Pol had launched it ten minutes later. It had a shorter flight plan and returned five minutes before the cell ship. Lt. Reed was being cared for in Sickbay, so T'Pol went back to her lab in the hopes of finding Ensign Sato.

She hadn't expected it to be this easy. Once she'd downloaded the data, she pulled up the information on the biggest plantations in the eastern coast of the continent Buftanis was on. One stood out. It was drawing much more electricity than the others. A visual examination showed search lights. What agricultural farm kept search lights on hand?

Carstairs entered the lab again. "I was hoping to find the captain here. Reports from Buftanis are finally coming through. We got in through the president's network."

"Well done," T'Pol replied. "Give me the data and I will upload the virus. What have you learned thus far?"

"We started with the later reports after what we learned about Lt. Reed." Carstairs handed her a PADD. "Wherever she was, she's gone missing."

T'Pol studied the PADD briefly. "I see. Please find the captain and request he meet me in the launch bay."

Jonathan Archer hadn't left the launch bay. He felt ill. He hadn't recognized the man Woods had dragged out of the cell ship, but he knew it was Malcolm. And he was sure, by the limpness of his body and his blank, staring eyes, that Malcolm was dead. His stomach still recoiled. He had done this.

Even after he knew Malcolm wasn't dead. It was still his fault. Phlox had pulled back the blanket and torn open the blood-stained cloth that covered Malcolm's chest. He cut away the sutures that were lined up vertically on his sternum and pushed his gloved fingers into the incision. Archer had had to turn away to keep from being sick.

He only turned back when he heard the bag. One of Phlox's assistants had the bag over Malcolm's nose and mouth and was forcing air into his lungs. They lifted the gurney and one of Malcolm's arms fell loose. The bile had risen in Archer's throat to see the piece of metal piercing Malcolm's forearm. They lifted his arm back onto the gurney and left the bay.

And Archer had stayed. He played it over and over in his head. Malcolm dead. The bag keeping him alive. What had he suffered? And why? If he'd waited, gotten more information before sending the shuttlepod. . . .

"It's not your fault, sir," Travis said. Archer turned to look at him. He didn't get out of his seat or even straighten himself up, slumped as he was over the controls of the cell ship. "We didn't know about the chronoton pulses, or that it was Malcolm's voice on the transmission."

Archer sighed. "Until a few hours after they left," he reminded him. "If I'd just waited for that information--"

"Then it wouldn't have been Malcolm's voice," Travis argued. "He called us, so he had to be down there. He said 'save Hoshi,' so she had to be down there, too. If they weren't there, there wouldn't have been a transmission. But there was."

Archer waved him off and turned back to the spot where Malcolm had lain. "Starfleet's going to need a whole department to figure all that out. I can't understand enough of the temporal mechanics to take away my feelings of guilt."

"Doctor Phlox may save him yet," Travis said. "And we've got to find Hoshi. There won't be as much to feel guilty for. Besides, they probably think we all have enough guilt to go around, for leaving them down there for a year."

Archer thought about that and tried to push the guilt aside. "Yeah, that will be a fun conversation."

T'Pol entered the bay. "You're here," she said, with subdued surprise.

"I've been here," Archer replied. "I'm going to be here until we're ready to get Hoshi."

"We are ready," T'Pol stated. She handed him a PADD. "She's in a covert facility disguised as a working plantation midway up the eastern coast of the largest continent in the western hemisphere."

Archer studied the coordinates and handed the PADD to Travis. "Tell Woods to get ready for another trip."

T'Pol turned to make the call, and Archer sat down on the edge of the cell ship. "Just tell me she hasn't been sentenced to death in the last twenty-four hours."

"In fact," T'Pol said as she returned to him. "She has gone missing. I believe they are looking for her."

"Missing?" Travis asked, beating Archer to it.

Archer wasn't sure what to make of that. "How did they manage to lose the only human in the country?"

"According to the guard making the feeding rounds," T'Pol recited, "she caused an altercation with her teammate and was injured. The Raptor female became aggressive and had to be removed. He left with two Raptor females and left her locked in a coop. When he returned for her, he only found her coat and footwear. There is a blizzard hitting that region, ten centimeters of snow per hour. It covered her tracks."

"She made a run for it," Travis summarized, shock and perhaps a bit of pride in his voice.

"A run for what?" Woods asked. He had returned, cleaned up and with a restocked kit bag. "She's injured and cold on a planet full of dinosaur people. Where's she going to run?"

Archer knew he was right. It was an act of desperation. But why now? Why tonight? "Our sensors can find her?"

"Easily," T'Pol answered.

He had one more question. "How long has she been missing?"

"It's not exact, but I estimate one to two hours."

"Then let's go find her before they do," Archer activated the door and slipped back into the ship. Woods tossed his bag in and ducked under the closing door. T'Pol nodded and headed out of the bay.

Travis guided the cell ship out of the launch bay as soon as the doors had opened wide enough for the ship to get out. The cell ship turned away from Enterprise and headed for the interference layer and the planet beyond. The comm chirped. T'Pol's voice reported, "Chronoton pulse in three, two, one. You have a forty second window, Ensign."

"Aye, sir," Travis replied. "I'm on it."

The ship bumped and rocked violently for four seconds, and they were through and streaking toward the planet. Travis activated the cloak and steered them to the large northern continent in the western hemisphere. They stayed at high altitude until they'd reached the eastern coast in the vicinity of the coordinates T'Pol had given.

They couldn't see land. There was an endless floor of white clouds. The blizzard. "Winds are strong," Travis said. "It's going to push us. But I've figured that in." He began to lower the cell ship straight down into the cloud. The winds began to buffet the ship even before they'd exited the cloud. The ship moved laterally but Travis turned it against the wind so that they were watching the ground come closer.

Then Archer thought he saw it. Long streams of light were hitting the clouds above and the ground below. Search lights. "They're either looking for her or heard about Zheiren," Woods commented.

"That's the place, alright," Travis stated. "We'll be there in twenty-five seconds."

"Time to start looking for a human." Archer turned to the sensor controls and set them to search for human biosigns. He prayed Hoshi still had one for them to detect.

"Ten seconds," Travis called out.

There was nothing on the sensors. Archer boosted their power, drawing from weapons and warp, two systems they wouldn't need right now.

"We're here," Travis said. "This is the outer edge of the compound where she was working. Fields are on the other side of the buildings. Coops here for small animals. Probably a food source." Travis pointed at the viewscreen. Beyond his finger was a swarm of movement. At least twenty very large, very menacing velociraptors in uniform were searching the cages, a pond, the open ground, and the trees right up to the wall the cell ship hovered over. "Anything on sensors, sir?"

Archer looked back at his display, still showing a distinct lack of results. He heard Woods sigh behind him. "Blood, sir. Look for her blood."

Archer took a breath and nodded. He adjusted the sensors as guilt crashed in on him again. She was dead, too. The sensors beeped. Pinpoints of blood showed up and Archer compared them to the scene out front. "At the far cage on the left. There are minute traces leading up to and beyond the pond. There's some on a tree to our right. Turn us around, Travis. Ninety degrees."

The ship turned. "She climbed the tree." There were larger concentrations on the rocks below the broken branch on the other side of the wall. "She's on the other side."

Woods was straining to look over his shoulder. "She can't have gotten far. Not after that fall and the cold."

"Set us down, Travis," Archer ordered.

"Yes, sir." The ship moved to the side until it was clear of the high wall that marked the edge of the compound. Then it dropped slowly to a gentle landing on deep snow. Steam rose up in front of the ship. "Let's hope nobody saw that," Travis said.

"Get the weapons back online, just in case," Archer told him. "Woods, you're with me." Archer activated the door panel and one side of the ship lifted skyward, exposing them to a blast of cold air, and snow.

"Let's hope no one looks over that wall," Woods remarked as he slid out from Travis's left.

Archer stepped out and began to shiver. Maybe they should have taken the time to dress appropriately. He pulled out his scanner and adjusted it while he could still work his fingers. "She headed for those trees," he told Woods and pointed to a clump of thick-trunked trees in front of them and to their right. "The trail stops there."

Every step they took dropped their feet at least six inches into the snow, so they couldn't move very fast. Archer's nose and ears were going numb as they reached the edge of the trees.

Woods had his own scanner out. "Some of them are hollow." he said.

Archer wasn't sure he heard right. "Hollow?"

"The trees. Some of them are hollow. Maybe she took shelter in one."

Archer readjusted his scanner. "I'll take right; you take left." He headed for the first hollow tree on his right, but heard a distinct 'oomph' behind him.

Woods had fallen right into a snow drift on the windward side of an old tree. "Sir!"

Not him, too, Archer thought. This planet was going to eat his soul for all his guilt of injuries or deaths of those of his crew who were hurt or killed here. But as he neared Woods, he didn't seem injured. He was pulling snow away from the tree with his hands.

"It's her!" he said. And Archer could see the bluish-white leg Woods must have tripped on.

Archer pocketed his scanner and dropped to help pull the snow away. Then he could see her. Her eyes were closed and she wasn't moving. Her left arm lay at an odd angle on her thighs, and one leg was tucked up to her chest. She wore a thin gown of plain fabric. "Hoshi!" he tried.

Woods put his hand to her neck. "No good. My hands are numb. She's out of the wind in there. She might be alive." He pulled his scanner back out. "And I don't think we're getting her out of there easy." He pointed to the top of the extended leg. "This hip is dislocated. Several ribs broken. The arm, of course. We have to move her, but medically we shouldn't."

"We can't leave her here," Archer told him. "You're the medic. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

Woods nodded and then had Archer maneuver Hoshi's leg while he tried to turn her torso in the hollow of the tree. Then together they slid her out. Woods got an arm under her legs and another under her back. "Help me up."

Archer helped him stand with her and then they raced back to the ship as quickly as they could. The door lifted as they approached, which was good because they couldn't see the ship and might have run right into it. Woods went in first and laid Hoshi in the back. Archer got in and closed the door.

Woods pulled a thermal blanket from his pack and started wrapping her up. He pulled his scanner. "Just barely there," he said. "Make it quick, Mr. Travis."

"Yes, sir!" Travis said. The ship rose fast but smooth. It went with the wind and shot upwards toward and through the clouds. Archer vaguely registered the sight of the atmosphere as they broke through into space. "Cell ship to Enterprise," Travis called on the comm. "We need a window."

"Increase speed by point two six, Ensign," T'Pol responded. "You'll see the pulse. Let it pass."

Archer couldn't help but turn to look out the viewscreen. A wide bright flash winked in front of them, blinding him for a minute. The ship didn't stray from its course and soon they were buffeted by the interference. Archer looked back to Hoshi. But she hadn't moved.

"Phlox is in surgery," Travis reported after he closed the comm.

"The cold's what'll kill her," Woods said. "I can help with that. We make it to sickbay and I'll keep her stable until Phlox can take over."

A gurney was waiting when the door rose. T'Pol was there. "Mr. Travis, if you're up for another flight. There is still physical evidence in Buftanis that needs addressing."

Archer left her to manage that and passed four MACOs as they came into the bay armed to the teeth. He followed Woods and Hoshi and the med techs around her.

When they entered Sickbay, he found it subdued. Phlox was in the back area with Reed. Woods and the med techs put Hoshi on a bed and wrapped her in more blankets.

"You got her."

Archer turned to find Trip sitting legs out on the floor, leaning on one of Phlox's cabinets. He had a hollowed-out look. "There are chairs," Archer suggested gently.

Trip didn't seem to hear him. "I don't know how he's gonna live through that."

Archer remembered the sight of Reed in the launch bay. He didn't know either. He didn't say anything. He just sat down beside him and waited for Woods or Phlox to tell him that one or the other, or both, had died.