DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Cheree Cargill and is copyright (c) 2001 by Cheree Cargill. This story is Rated NC-17 for sexual situations.

THE CASTAWAYS

by Cheree Cargill

PART EIGHT

"LEMURIA"

The fury of the wind had reached a crescendo, the hurricane building to its full force in the wee hours of the morning. After the eyewall had passed over them and the wind had turned around to the opposite direction from which it had been blowing, the weakened pines in the woods around the cabin began to snap in the face of hundred and fifty mile per hour winds. Torrential rains poured down the hillside around the little log cabin built into the rock of the hill, washing broken tree trunks and rivers of mud down with it.

Inside the cabin, Spock and Christine had moved with their three children back underneath the rock overhang that formed the sleeping chamber. The furor of the storm was threatening to tear the cabin roof away and already water was being forced between the logs of the walls.

The children were terrified and so was Christine, although she tried to control it. Spock was afraid, too, never having experienced anything like the typhoon that raged around them. He held T'Jenn close to him as the little girl buried her face in her father's chest, shaking and weeping, and Christine clutched both baby T'Kai and eleven-year-old Sapel in her arms. Their hunting cat, Scruff, was crouched behind Sapel, her eyes enormous with fear, her spotted fur raised. All of them pressed back as far as they could, the sparse protection of the native rock the only sure shelter they had.

Outside they could hear trees breaking and crashing down, barely audible above the screech and roar of wind and rain. They heard something else -- two high pitched screams that cut through the noise, and Sapel started up in alarm.

"The horses!" he cried, referring to the mesohippus mare and colt in the lean-to stable and corral.

Spock grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "You can't help them!" he stated forcefully.

"But, they're in trouble!"

"They'll have to fend for themselves," Spock answered. "It would be suicide to try to get to them now."

Sapel subsided, grief-stricken at what his beloved little horse and her new colt must be going through. But his father was right. No one could make it out to the stable in this storm.

As if to punctuate the fact, another tall pine crashed down, too near the cabin for comfort. The ground shook with its impact and thunder boomed like an exploding photon shell as if in triumph. Above the trapped family, the roof timbers groaned but held ... barely. The whole cabin was shaking now in the wind and muddy water was beginning to pour through the junction between roof and hillside.

Spock pushed his wife and children back even farther, knowing in his heart that the log cabin wouldn't last much longer. He thanked the Ancestors that the wind was now blowing from behind them. Had it been coming straight on, none of them would have any chance of survival.

He heard the rock chimney begin to crumble and fall and then the first roofing beam went. It weakened the front wall and that collapsed, taking the rest of the roof down with it. Amid the screams of his wife and children, Spock watched almost in fascination as the cabin he had built by hand disintegrated before his eyes. Tall trees round them snapped as they bent before the wind and one slammed fully down on what was left of the log cabin.

The last thing Spock knew was the flash of scenes from his life and a time once before when he'd very nearly lost all his family here. Then the world went black and he knew no more.

* * *

The spring sun on Christine's face warmed much more than her skin. It felt wonderful to be outside on such a glorious day, even if she was still weakened from her ordeal ten weeks before in giving birth to baby T'Jenn, who lay sleeping on the spread leather blanket beside her. She had slowly been regaining her strength, enough to do easy chores around their homesite and be up and around more each day. Spock tended to fuss over her but Christine felt fine. She simply didn't have the stamina to work as hard as she normally did. But that would come in time.

Today, she sat in the sun and prepared a bowl of early spring greens for cooking. They grew throughout the woods and resembled fernheads, but tasted something like asparagus. She had picked them this morning after Spock and Sapel had left to go birding and egg-gathering at the sea cliffs a mile or so down the shore.

The sea birds had begun nesting on the cliffs and it was the only time of the year when fresh eggs were available. It was dangerous work gathering them, however, both because the birds tended to build their nests on the rocky expanses above the ocean and because the mother birds did not take kindly to having their nests robbed. Usually, Spock warded off the squawking, diving birds while Sapel, who was more supple and sure-footed than his father, made quick work of snatching eggs and storing them in a shoulder pouch he carried. He never took too many, only a dozen or so, just enough to make a meal. They didn't keep very long anyway, so it made no sense to steal too many at any one time.

Christine shuddered at the thought of her son clambering around the cliffs, but he had the agility of youth and, anyway, Spock made him wear a safety rope tied around his waist ... just in case. Sapel was an excellent climber, shinnying up trees to pluck down fruit or nuts, climbing vines like a monkey, or finding purchase on a rock face with ease. Still, she couldn't help but worry.

She looked down at her baby girl, dozing on her stomach beside her. T'Jenn had been very robust at birth, almost too big to be born vaginally, and she had continued to gain weight on her mother's abundant milk. She had nothing of Sapel's Vulcan leanness and her plumpness made Christine think of her great-grandmother, a short, stocky little woman with a fierce temper and boundless heart when it came to her "grandbabies".

"Oh, Nanna," Christine smiled to herself. "What would you think of having part-Vulcan babies to cuddle? Would you be horrified or would you find room on your lap for them, too?" Something told her it was the latter. Nanna had taken no nonsense off anyone but she was also the most pragmatic, practical woman Christine had ever met. She missed her terribly all of a sudden.

T'Jenn began to stir restlessly and whimper. Her little face screwed up and turned red, then she let out a thin, pitiful wail. Christine already knew what that expression meant. "Whoops! Time for a diaper change, hmm?" She quickly dumped the bowl of prepared greens into the cooking pot at the edge of the fire, the water already simmering, then reached to retrieve T'Jenn's "diaper bag". It was actually a leather pouch that carried sphagnum moss and plant fuzz for absorbency and an extra chamois cloth.

Sitting cross-legged on the blanket, she gently turned her infant onto her back and untied the chamois she wore. "Oooo, pooo!!" she announced in an exaggerated voice to the baby who blinked blue eyes up at her mother. "You're a nasty girl! You're just a poo-bear, you know that?"

T'Jenn gave her a toothless grin and waved her arms, now perfectly happy that she was getting attention. Christine set to work changing the soiled diaper, setting the used moss to one side to be disposed of. After cleaning her hands in a bowl of water, Christine got to her feet a bit laboriously, still sporting some residual soreness from the birth, then knelt down to bring her baby up to her shoulder and hold her there with one hand, delicately catching a corner of the soiled moss with the other.

"What makes you such a stinker?" she asked the child conversationally as she walked a short distance from the camp and tossed the moss away among the trees. "Do you think you're a stinker? No, you're my sweetie girl, aren't you?" Christine cuddled the baby close and rocked her a little in an age-old, instinctive rhythm.

A faint noise drifted its way through the trees from the direction of the beach and, curious, Christine made her way in that direction. It wasn't far and it didn't take the woman long to identify it. Looking down from the hillside onto the long expanse of sand, she saw that it was occupied by hundreds of the seal-like mammals that took up residence here every spring. They were barking and quarreling among themselves, new pups squawling and bulls vying for the breeding rights to the soon-to-be estrous cows.

The seal colony was far enough down the beach not to disturb the family on the hillside, but it bothered Christine immensely nonetheless. The spring return of the seals meant the return of something else here on the shore of Southern Sea ... the plesiosaur-like reptiles that preyed on the mammals and came up onto shore to hunt them.

The beach would no longer be safe to use while the seals remained. And it also meant that the swarms of biting insects off the marshes would soon descend in clouds on anything that offered a meal of blood.

It was time to evacuate Sea Home and return north.

* * *

"The seals are back," Christine commented that evening over supper.

"I know," Spock replied, cracking and peeling one of the dozen or so gull eggs he and Sapel had managed to find today. Boiled and sprinkled with crushed salt, they offered a welcome change from the fish and meat that was so prevalent in their diets. "They are so noisy and stink so much that it would be hard to miss them."

"Well? When do we leave?" Christine inquired, shifting T'Jenn to her other breast where the baby set to nursing once more. She became aware that Spock hadn't answered her and looked up to find him staring steadfastly at her face. "What?"

"I was waiting for the strike line of your joke," he dead-panned.

Christine narrowed her eyes and peered back at him. "That's punch line and there isn't one. Spring's here. It's time to leave."

"How?" the Vulcan responded. "You cannot travel any distance and the baby is too young to be taken on such a journey."

"Then we'll take it slow," Christine responded stubbornly.

"Out of the question."

"Spock, I am perfectly well! As long as we took it easy, I could make the trip in fine shape."

But her husband was gazing at him with that implacable, immovable expression on his face. She stared back, her brows lowering over sharp blue eyes, challenging him to dispute her. At last he spoke. "You are not yet fully recovered from T'Jenn's birth and you know it," he said evenly. "Your strength is sporadic and short-lived, not to mention the fact that you are exhausted from meeting the demands of a newborn."

"I'm not that tired," she protested, but sensed that she'd already lost this argument.

"Then why do you take naps every afternoon once you have T'Jenn asleep?" Spock continued resolutely. "I have also seen how you groan when you get up and down, and the evident pain in your movement. I also know that you continue to bleed sporadically when you undertake things that are too strenuous for you." He was leaning forward now, his dark eyes boring into hers. "You could not possibly walk the distance from here to the Valley, carrying a child and a backpack, fording swollen creeks, struggling through mud, and being soaked by spring rains."

Christine averted her gaze from his, pretending to check on her nursing baby. "All right," she conceded after a few moments. "But you know we can't stay here."

"We have never stayed through the summer," he pointed out. "The spring is very bad, yes, with the insect swarms and sea beasts hunting along the shores, but perhaps it gets better once hotter weather sets in."

She looked back up at him. "And perhaps it gets worse. Anyway, have you ever spent a hot summer near the ocean? I have! The humidity is about 100% every day and it's ferociously hot. As bad as it would be for me and the children, you simply could not stand it. Dry heat can be tolerated, but not this wet heat. You cannot imagine how miserable it is! And, all that notwithstanding, we have no idea what sort of diseases these marshes harbor. All these biting flies and mosquitos could be carrying malaria or yellow fever or dengue fever or things much worse."

Spock tried a half-hearted little twitch of the corner of his mouth. "I truly doubt that this planet harbors either mosquitos or malaria."

Christine frowned warningly. She was in no mood for it now. "No, but you can bet there's something similar around. You've done enough research to know what sorts of diseases are carried by insect vectors. I do not propose to have us all die of encephalitis or some such."

T'Jenn began to fret and released her mother's nipple, whimpering. Without breaking her husband's gaze, Christine hoisted the baby to her shoulder and rubbed her back. In a moment, the infant gave a little burp and seemed more comfortable. "No, Spock, we simply must go back up north for the summer. We'll make it ... somehow." She paused and rocked her child against her. "We've got to."

* * *

Against Spock's better judgment, they set out on their journey north, but Christine gave out before they had gone more than five miles or so. It was only mid-morning when she had to stop and rest, her face pale and beaded with sweat.

Breathing hard, she seated herself on a fallen log and sloughed off her backpack, shifting T'Jenn to a more comfortable position in the leather sling across her front. "I'm sorry," she panted. "Just give me a minute to catch my breath."

Spock and Sapel waited patiently, the Vulcan watching his wife keenly. After a few minutes, the boy wandered away as Scruff began to stalk something in the underbrush. His parents ignored him. Instead, Spock crossed his arms over his chest and stood like a statue.

Noting his stance, Christine frowned. "Get that self-righteous look off your face," she said crossly. "I'm fine. I'm just out of shape, that's all."

"I do not find that explanation credible," he responded. "This is a fool hardy attempt at something you cannot accomplish."

"I don't know what your problem is, Spock, but you seem determined to fail before you even get started!" she snapped.

"It is not I who has a problem," he responded tightly. "You know full well that you do not have the strength to make this journey."

"We'll see whether I do or not!" she answered in a challenging tone. Christine started to stand, then went "oof!" as her knees buckled and she abruptly sat back down on the log. The jolt startled T'Jenn, who began to wail.

Spock sprang to his wife's aid and knelt down in front of her. "Christine! Are you all right?"

She had a rather startled expression on her face as well. "Yeah ... sure," she answered but looked as if she were still doing an inventory of all her bodily functions.

"Are you certain?" he persisted.

"Yes ... yes, I'm okay." Christine took a deep breath and turned her attention to her agitated baby, soothing her into quietness again. Once T'Jenn was settled, Christine smiled at her husband with a confidence she did not entirely feel. "I just slipped."

"That was not a slip," Spock replied, standing up. "You do not even have the strength to rise."

"Oh, bosh! That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"I have decided, Christine!" he responded, his jaw tightening in irritation. "We are going back. You cannot travel any further."

"I can make another fifteen miles before sundown! I was just off-balance with the baby here," she argued. To prove it, she got to her feet, albeit a bit awkwardly.

"No," Spock repeated. "We are going back!" He had straightened to his full height and was glaring at her now, his brows bunched together angrily as his aggravation grew, his dark eyes smoldering.

"Oh, now, that's ridiculous!" she protested, ignoring the warning signs of his dwindling patience. "Just because I got a little winded--"

That patience snapped abruptly. "S'ra' krokroykah!" he roared and the command blasted through her mind like a physical slap. Instantly, he was immediately apologetic. "Christine! I'm sorry. I did not mean to be so emphatic with you. Forgive me!"

She was almost dazed. "Spock! What was that?!"

He sighed and lowered his gaze. "Male Vulcan instinct, unfortunately. You were not listening to what I had decided for us and I lost my temper."

Sapel came running back through the trees. "What happened? Mama! Papa! Are you all right?"

His father had a rather ashamed expression on his face. "Yes ... yes, we are fine." He drew a breath and looked down at the boy. "Your mother has not recovered sufficiently to continue," Spock told him. "We are going back to Sea Home." He quickly shifted his gaze to Christine's eyes and, to forestall any arguments, added, "Perhaps we can set out again in a month. Maybe less. We'll see."

Christine backed down, her own stubbornness shattered by Spock's embarrassing loss of control. She hadn't needed to speak Vulcan to understand that he had emphatically ordered her to shut up. It had come loud and clear through their mind link. And she had understood too, just as instantaneously, that it was a Vulcan husband ordering his wife back to her place ... behind him and silent.

Ordinarily she would have flared back and the battle of wills would truly have begun, but that mental slap had carried something else within it -- the knowledge that Spock acted in this instance for her welfare and not just because he was feeling his knuckles dragging on the ground. Taking a good honest look at herself, Christine admitted that she wasn't up to this trip. They needed to go north, yes, but she wouldn't make it more than another day before she would collapse. Already her legs were feeling weak and she was very, very glad that the way home was all downhill.

Spock was peering at her, his dark mahogany eyes full of worry for her. "You concern yourself with T'Jenn," he said to her softly. "I can carry your pack as well as mine on the way back home."

She nodded. "All right. I'm not sure I could handle both of them." She smiled up at the tall, dark-haired man before her. "I'm rested now. Let's go home."

Spock hoisted her backpack up onto his left shoulder and led the way down the gently sloping terrain toward the sea, about five miles distance. They would take it slow and easy, traveling at Christine's pace, but would be there by sunset. Sapel walked beside his mother, alert to help her if she should falter. He looked back once and clicked his tongue. The hunting cat appeared immediately and scampered after them, a small rodent in her jaws.

* * *

The flies were worse than ever as the spring progressed. The raucous herds of seals in residence on the beaches added to the number as their bodily waste, birth discharges, blood from fights, and leftover from their fish catches piled up on the sands. In addition, the plesiosaurs were hunting in full force, their carnage increasing daily.

Climbing temperatures had also unleashed every mosquito, midge, gnat or other flying insect from the marshes to the east, all of them hungry for a meal and any warm-blooded animal that could supply it. For the native birds, it was a mixed blessing. While the water fowl that had wintered here had already gone back north, there was a myriad of other shore birds that arrived to feast on the feasting insects and nest in the marshes and cliffs. However, the insects often seemed to do as much feeding on the birds as vice versa. In any case, the swarms never seemed to diminish.

For Spock and his family, they were effectively housebound. Christine had devised another batch of her horrible smelling insect repellent and they burned pine knots inside to ward off insects with the acrid smoke, but the remedy seemed almost as bad as the sickness. It wasn't entirely effective anyway. All four of them sported numerous itchy whelps. Even Scruff was not immune. She had disappeared early on, finding refuge in a rock crevice too small to afford the others sanctuary.

The baby especially was miserable, doubly so as the days went by because she began to cut a tooth in addition to her other woes. She cried and fretted constantly and, in the close, smelly confines of the cabin, tempers soon began to fray.

After an especially testy exchange between Spock and Christine one evening when T'Jenn had cried for two hours and would not be comforted, Christine pinned her husband with a furious glare and stated, "I cannot stand it here another day, Spock! We are leaving here if I have to crawl every inch of the way!"

She was shaking with exhaustion and fury, tears filling her eyes. With a weary sigh, he gathered her in his arms and held her, instinctively raising his shields as her emotional turmoil washed over him. As she buried her face in his chest and wept, he gave in. "All right," he said softly. "We will go. I do not wish to see you so unhappy."

After a few minutes, she sniffed and pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just a nervous wreck. Not being able to get out and all."

"I understand," he assured her, clearing away the last of her tears with a gentle swipe of his thumb. "We will pack tonight and set out at first light. Perhaps we can avoid the majority of the insects that way." He smiled a bit ruefully. "I find the charms of this place dwindling myself. I shall be happy to get back north to our valley and away from these damnable flies!"

Spock so seldom used "colorful metaphors", as he called them, that Christine burst out laughing. Instantly she felt better and fell back into her husband's arms, hugging him gratefully. Still laughing, she answered, "Damn the mosquitos - full speed ahead!"

* * *

The eastern sky had barely begun to show a hint of color when Spock and Christine herded a sleepy Sapel out the door into the dawn chill. They had been up all night, packing their things for the second time that spring, but both were eager to be well away from the coast by the time the warming air launched the plagues of biting flies on them again.

As Spock secured the cabin door, Christine helped her son into his pack. "Where's Scruffy?" he complained.

"Back in her hole, I expect, or maybe out hunting," Christine answered. "Try calling her."

Sapel did so as Spock returned to assist his wife into her backpack. T'Jenn was slung across her front in her leather carry-pouch, peacefully asleep at last. It had taken Spock touching the child's mind with a delicate meld before she was soothed, her pain from the erupting tooth numbed, and her exhausted little body eased into slumber.

Spock hefted his own pack onto his shoulders, one much larger and heavier than his wife's, and settled it comfortably. He then donned his bow and quiver, caught up his hunting spear, and looked around for his son. He was nowhere in sight.

"Sapel!" he called. "Why did he wander off just as we were leaving?"

"He's looking for Scruff," Christine responded.

"Sapel!" Spock called again.

There was a scrambling sound from the slope to the right of the cabin and Sapel abruptly appeared, wide awake and grinning.

"Mama! Papa! Look who I found!" he cried.

In his wake two lemurs walked upright into view -- a young female and an old bearded male, his ruff gray with age. Picku and Charlie had returned.

* * *

After greetings all around, Spock and Charrr-eek, which was the old lemur's proper name, sat down to talk seriously. Their telepathic conversation, more impressions and emotions than actual words, nevertheless conveyed a depth of knowledge between the two.

//Glad you not leave yet,// Charlie told the Vulcan, one hand on Spock's arm to enhance communication. //We come for you, take you back to...// He projected a mental picture of the Lemurian baobab village where they had spent the fall months while Spock recovered from his near fatal encounter with a cow rhino.

//Leaving,// Spock assured him, //but go north to home there.//

Charrr-eek expressed a tiny bit of agitation. He didn't know where that northern home was, but had picked up from Spock's mind the impression of great distance and danger. There was also concern for Christine and the baby mixed in with it.

The Lemurian healer moved over to touch the woman's arm and the gaze from his great golden eyes bore into hers. //Not well,// he pronounced to her. He shifted his attention to the infant in her carry sling and laid his hand on the small head. //Baby sick, too.//

Christine was instantly alert. //Sick?! How?// she demanded.

Charlie looked back into her eyes. //Fever start. Still low but high soon. You come to home. Make baby well.//

That was all Christine needed to hear. "We're going with them, Spock," she said aloud in a tone that would not be brooked. "Charlie says Jenny has a fever."

Spock quickly laid his palm over his daughter's forehead, assessing her condition with a mind probe of his own. After a moment, he nodded. "I fear he is right. Deep down, I sense something not right with her. Very well, we will go with them."

Picku'acka'neech and Sapel had been sitting next to Christine, the Lemurian fascinated by the baby. She had never seen an infant so large and it seemed very strange to her that Christine had no marsupial pouch in which to carry her child. Lemurs were born tiny and half-formed, then went immediately into their mothers' pouches where they completed their gestation over the next six months.

At Charlie's announcement that the human baby was ill, Picku stretched out a gentle hand and stroked the baby sympathetically, sending soothing thoughts.

Sapel touched his friend's shoulder. //We come,// he thought to her and Picku's whole demeanor brightened.

//We come for you,// she answered. //This bad place in new year. Too many bugs.//

The old lemur stood upright and made a chirping sound that clearly translated to all of them. //Go now. Flies come soon.//

He started off in the direction of the headland that rose to the west, invisible at the moment because of the trees but which would rise into view as they cleared the woods. He seemed to take it for granted that the others would follow and didn't look back.

Spock helped Christine to her feet and they strode after the small figure. Picku started to scamper after them, but Sapel hung back, calling, "Scruffy! Where are you?"

//Come,// Picku urged him.

"I can't leave Scruffy," he protested.

//Come. They leave us!//

"Scruff!" he shouted again but there was no sign of the hunting cat.

Picku pulled on his arm once again. //Go now!// she insisted.

Reluctantly, Sapel allowed himself to be moved and fell into step with the young female, looking frequently back over his shoulder for his pet.

* * *

The boats were standing by in the little cove, almost as if they'd never moved from the previous year, but the attitude of the sailors was different this time. They were tense and armed with long, straight spears, flint-tipped, and were warily watching the bay on the other side of the sandbar that stood between themselves and the open sea. As if to demonstrate the reason for their wariness, a long sinuous neck lifted from the water and moved along the deep channel there for an endless moment, the small eye fixed on the group on the leeward beach. Then it sank once more below the waves and disappeared.

//Bad time to be here,// Charlie commented to Spock, lightly touching the Vulcan's arm. //Should have gone before.//

//We did,// Spock answered. //Christine weak from birth. Not walk far.// He sent a mental synopsis of their aborted trip and the old lemur indicated understanding.

They had reached the dugout canoes drawn up onto the sand and began loading, the Lemurians in an obvious hurry to be off. Sapel still hesitated, looking back for any sign at all of Scruff.

Christine put her arm around his shoulder and told him, "We'll wait as long as we can, but we must go, sweetheart. We have no choice this time. We've got to get Jenny help before she is truly ill. She could die if this fever is really bad."

"I know, Mama," the boy sighed, still scanning the hillside for his pet. "But I don't want to lose her! After Mooch..." His voice choked for a second. "...I couldn't stand it again, Mama!"

She hugged her little son comfortingly, but then Spock joined them. "It's time to go," he said softly, cognizant of his son's distress. "Let me help you, Christine."

Giving Sapel one more squeeze, she went with her husband and allowed him to assist her into the boat she would share with Charlie. T'Jenn whimpered from the carry pouch, then fell asleep once more.

"Sapel?" Spock prodded. The boy didn't move, then sighed again mournfully and got into the second boat with Picku. Spock boarded a third canoe while their baggage rode in a fourth.

Once all was aboard and ready, the Lemurian sailors leapt to their stations, one fore and one aft, and they shoved off, using their long punting poles to maneuver the canoes into the water.

"Wait! Wait!" Sapel cried suddenly and almost vaulted from the boat before one of the Lemurians grabbed him and held him back. Then they saw what had excited the boy.

A little form was tearing down the slope, ears laid back and green eyes wide. Scruffy had discovered her family gone and tracked them, making it just before she was left behind.

The sailors poled the boat back up to the shore, close enough that the cat could scramble on board and into the arms of her young master. There she purred ecstatically.

All members now present and accounted for, the little flotilla set off.

* * *

They sailed all day, west by southwest, retracing the route they had taken in the early winter. They stuck to the inland waterway between the long barrier islands and the marches on shore, twice being forced to halt to avoid hunting plesiosaurs along the inter-island channels. But the sleek sea beasts were only slightly interested in the canoes, being well fed on their natural prey, now abundant in these waters.

The trip was harder on little T'Jenn than any of them. Feverish, irritable from teething and disliking the motion of the boat, she cried and fretted, despite Christine's attempt to soothe her. Charlie was most interested when Christine opened her tunic for the baby to nurse, but the woman felt suddenly self-conscious and covered herself with the leather carry cloth, explaining to the Lemurian healer that this was a private act among her people. Charlie expressed some surprise, as it was as natural an act as breathing to him, but let it go. Things were different, he knew, with the big bipeds.

Traveling along beside the endless miles of marsh and mangrove-like forests, the group was inevitably attacked by insects, but all rubbed the leaves of a spiky, succulent-type plant over their fur and skin. It left a sharp, spicy odor and immediately repelled the insects.

"What is this?" Christine wanted to know, both speaking aloud and sending the accompanying thought to Charlie. She hoped that they could at least learn to understand each other's language, if not actually speak it in return.

//Ghool-eech plant,// the Lemurian healer answered, making a hooting sound similar to the word he had thought. //Bug stay off, no bite.//

Christine sent him the impression of great approval and interest. "I want to learn more," she told him. "I want to study your medicine."

The old lemur's nictating membranes edged over his huge eyes, displaying his pleasure. //Great happy teach Crrrr,// he answered, voicing his name-sound for her. //Learn from you, too.//

The rapport of the two healers, so different in form but so alike in thought, grew as the day went on, both of them speaking in ever more technical terms as they struggled to share their respective medical knowledge. By the time they turned into the river channel that led to the Lemurian village, Christine and Charlie had begun to converse effortlessly, hardly aware where speech left off and telepathy began.

They were still talking when the boats edged into their native slips and the Lemurian fisherfolk came down to help them

and welcome the travelers home.

* * *

"Down at last," Christine sighed as she slipped into the sleeping furs where Spock already awaited her. T'Jenn was nearly over her fever and mostly sleeping through the night, thanks to the fever drink that Charlie had supplied. Made from the crushed leaves of a marsh plant, the bittersweet drink had markedly affected the progress of the disease the baby had contracted, cutting its power and duration.

A week had gone by since their arrival in the village of baobab trees, and Spock and Christine had returned to the hollow giant where they had lived the previous fall. Sapel had been granted his own quarters nearby and was feeling quite grown up as a result. The Lemurians themselves dwelt high above in a networked series of huts, walkways and communal buildings constructed in the intertwined branches of the baobab forest.

Unlike his parents, Sapel was agile enough to make the climb up to the village proper, but still had his limitations, not being equipped with four opposable thumbs and a prehensile tail. Still, he soon knew his way around Charlie's family dwellings and was learning all the members of the healer's extended family.

Spock and Christine stayed firmly on solid ground, however. Their erstwhile home was on the edge of the village and was accessed through a large split up one side. It was this split that had caused it to be abandoned by Charlie's family in the first place, for it left the sanctuary open on ground level. The baobabs in use by the lemurs were only accessible from higher up.

Nevertheless, it was a snug and comfortable haven for the couple and their small baby. With Sapel in his own living space and a hide tacked over the split as a doorway, the two were enjoying the first real privacy they'd had in years.

So it was that, after seeing her baby asleep, Christine slipped out of her clothing and settled into her husband's arms, snuggling against him as he enfolded her in his strong embrace. Unspoken but understood between them was that both had this night planned for only each other.

It had been three months since they had last made love as Christine recovered from the difficult birth. She knew Spock must be as eager as she to renew their relations and, indeed, he nuzzled and kissed her neck as she sank into his arms.

"Asleep?" he murmured, kissing her ear and jawline.

"Mmmm ... yes. Let's hope she stays that way." Christine moved against her husband's naked body. "How do I taste?" she teased.

"Wonderful," he replied and gently raked her earlobe between his teeth.

Christine laughed softly. "You're really hungry, aren't you?"

"It has been quite some time since I was last able to love you like this," Spock replied, his deep voice a rumble that sent incipient chills over her body. His lips traveled up her throat and found her mouth, drinking her in with controlled but growing thirst. *T'hy'la,* his mind whispered to hers. *Feel the flame rising within me. I burn for thee, my wife!*

She did feel it, her mental shields inadequate to shut out his mental vitality even had she wanted to. "Mmmm ... nice," she smiled when their kiss broke. "My only concern, though, Spock, is getting pregnant again. Can you tell if I'm..."

"You are not," he responded, teasing her face with his kisses. "There is a subtle difference to the way your skin tastes and smells when you are fertile. I do not detect it now."

"Good," she answered, relaxing completely. "I can't tell. I haven't had a period since Jenny was born and, with her nursing, my system is still messed up."

He stopped and looked at her seriously, gently caressing her cheek. "I would not be continuing our love play had I found you to be fertile, t'hy'la. I would never risk impregnating you again so soon after a birth, even if you had not expressed your decision to have no more children." There was a flicker of hurt in his dark eyes that she would think him so uncaring of her.

Christine smiled with a hint of apology and reached to stroke her fingertips down the edge of his ear, something that he always found unbearably erotic. "I know you wouldn't, sweetheart," she answered. Her lashes shaded her blue eyes in a seductive manner and she slid her fingertips along his ear once again, from tip to lobe and felt him shiver involuntarily. "I've missed you so much!" she whispered.

His eyes lost the hurt look and crinkled in amusement. "I have been with you every day," he responded, understanding the game. "How could you miss me?"

"Hmmm, well, maybe I've missed individual parts of you," she answered with a wicked grin.

"That is not logical, my wife," he replied, deliberately obtuse. "If I have been with you, then every part of me has been here, too."

"But I haven't been able to appreciate them the way I usually do," she argued.

"What parts of me have you missed?" he inquired. "My hands?" So saying, he let his big, warm hand slip from her shoulder down to where her swollen breasts were pressed against his chest. He covered one with his palm and massaged it gently, feeling the nipple swell even more as he did so.

"No, not your hands," she managed to say, reveling in the tingling sensation spreading throughout her. "Lower down than that."

"Oh, you must mean my feet then," he replied and she felt his big toe caress the arch of her foot then slide up her ankle and along her calf until finally he slipped his foot over her leg and nudged her closer to him.

"No, no, not your feet," she laughed in delight. "Higher."

"My tongue?" He bent and seized the nipple he'd been fondling, working it gently against the roof of his mouth, then tickling it with the tip of his tongue. She had nursed the baby before coming to bed and thus her breasts were nearly drained, but creamy drops still oozed out as he suckled her and it added to his rapidly increasing arousal.

Christine groaned and almost abandoned their game, then gasped, "No ... lower ... lower than your hands, higher than your feet."

Spock trailed his lips up her chest and throat, swirling his tongue along her skin as he did. "I cannot guess then," he answered breathlessly. "You will have to show me."

She reached a trembling hand between them and grasped the hot, pulsing rod trapped against her stomach. "This!" she moaned. "Your dick! I miss your dick!"

He chose to torture her a little longer. "I'm sorry," he answered as he covered her face with increasingly hungry kisses. "I know of no one here named Dick."

She was pumping him in her fist, loving the way his erection swelled even harder to her touch, the head slick with his leaking lubrication. "Prick! Cock! Pecker! I don't care what you call it as long as you fuck me with it! Now!" She was writhing frantically against him, mad to end their long abstinence.

"I thought you would never ask," he rumbled deep in his throat and rolled her beneath him. Eagerly she spread her thighs wide and he quickly found his position between them, entering her with a forceful shove of his hips. Crying out, she arched her back up as her body reflexively gripped his solid masculinity, the exhilaration of his full penetration triggering a quick orgasm in her.

He held rigidly still while she quivered in rapture, allowing her to come down slowly from her emotional high. But he did let her relax fully. Calculating the right second, he slid his hands underneath her shoulders to steady her and thrust hard into her depths, pausing again at the very pinnacle of his stroke to whisper in her ear, "I call it hir'kh'ahn, by the way ... 'weapon blade'. And you are my sheath."

So saying, he gathered himself and began to move in earnest within her.

* * *

Exhausted for the moment, Spock and Christine lay quietly side by side, drowsily savoring the tingling after effects of their lovemaking. Loosely clasping hands, the warmth and affection of their mind bond still a low hum between them, they listened as the forest village settled down for the night.

After a few minutes, Spock started to rise and Christine tightened her grip on his hand. "Where are you going?"

"To check on Sapel," the Vulcan answered. "I'm still a bit uneasy with him sleeping apart from us."

"Relax," she replied, closing her eyes again. "He's upstairs. I said he could spend the night with the kids."

Spock gave a low grunt of understanding and lay back down beside his wife. The "kids" were some of Charlie's offspring by his various mates, juveniles that included Picku and who were equivalent to Sapel in age. "Upstairs" was the Lemurian village proper, where the extended family of adults, sub-adults, and younger children. Spock had not yet sorted out the tangled web of relationships, but knew that Sapel would be well-chaperoned.

Still, Spock observed, "He spends a great deal of time with them."

"It's the first time he's had friends his own age," Christine answered muzzily. "Let him enjoy it."

"As you say, wife." Spock turned onto his side facing her and gingerly cupped one of her breasts in his palm, gauging her reaction.

She opened one eye and peered passively at him, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips and her nipples hardened in response to his touch. "Are you sure you're not in pon farr?" she teased.

"I am sure," he responded in a low, sensuous whisper. "But shan hal lak ... that is another matter altogether."

"Isn't that 'love at first sight'?"

"It means 'engulfment', actually."

"Whatever. It boils down that you're insatiable," she murmured and rolled into his arms. "Do you plan on keeping this up all night long?" She gave her pelvis a little shove to emphasize that "this" was the delightful heat beginning to pulse against her groin.

"Hmmm ... that is a distinct possibility, my wife," he smiled. "A Vulcan may stay celibate for many weeks, but there is a price to be paid for that celibacy."

"Then I suppose I'd better get back to work, paying off my debt," she sighed happily and melted into his embrace, bringing her lips up to his.

* * *

What Sapel had come to think of as "the gang" consisted of Picku and four of her sibs, some a bit older and some younger than herself. The leader was her half-brother Chuk'wu'jok'won, a burly young male on the verge of adolescence, confident, cocky and probably destined to become alpha in the kin-group once he was grown. Chuk and Sapel had hit it off immediately, a healthy amount of rivalry fueling their friendship. The other three lemurs were Tjin'juk'char'ool, dubbed "Ginger", a full sister to Chuk, P'Kan'u'lok, a half-brother younger than these two, and finally Leek'a'cheeq'ooh, a full sister to Picku by one of their father's junior mates.

The siblings were close emotionally and, as was common with their people, slept together in a tumbled pile of creamy fur and intertwined tails, male and female together. There was no suggestion of sexual contact, for the juveniles had yet to develop any secondary sexual characteristics other than the fact that the females had belly pouches and the males did not. Genitals were recessed in both genders and mammaries on the females were concealed in their pouches, thus making the beings seem almost neuter in appearance.

Chuk, however, was maturing and beginning to feel his maleness, something he found that he shared with Sapel. He also discovered that they had a mutual interest in the secret world of adult mating and, because it was a subject forbidden to them, that made it all the more tantalizing.

This evening, the boys huddled together, P'Kan listening in with horrified fascination, while the girls sat disapprovingly nearby. With all the youngsters being naturally telepathic, the conversation flowed effortlessly between them.

"Then he puts it in her," Sapel revealed with triumphant relish.

//Anytime he wants to?// Chuk demanded, disbelieving.

"Anytime she'll let him," Sapel confirmed.

There was a general expression of disgust all around, tempered with a buzz of prohibited knowledge.

//I don't believe people actually do that,// Ginger stated.

"My parents do!" Sapel asserted. "I've seen 'em do it!" He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "I bet they're doin' it right now!"

That brought a fresh burst of revulsion then, not to be outdone, Chuk spoke up. //I know where Ch'k'pu do it like that,// he said, using the name the Lemurians called their race.

//You do not!// Picku declared angrily.

//You've never been to Teeli country, have you?// the male answered smugly.

Picku's pupils were dilated hugely. //You haven't either.//

//You can think that,// her brother retorted.

The female was practically jittering. //I will tell Father.//

//And let him know you were talking about this?// Chuk responded. Picku shut up, sitting back sullenly.

//So? What about the Teeli?// demanded P'Kan of his half-sib. //What do they do?//

//They live in trees they make themselves and wear things that are shiny that they make with fire,// Chuk answered, holding their full attention now. //They eat the hill animals and anything else they can kill. And the males and females mate anytime they want to, whether the Feasting Time has come or not.//

//I don't believe you,// P'Kan retorted crossly. //I think you're making it all up. Nobody does things like that.//

//The Teeli do! I can prove it!// Chuk answered.

//How?//

Chuk hesitated for a second then declared, //I can take you there and show you. I know the way.//

Picku and Ginger shot upright, their tails whipping in agitation. //What?! What are you saying, Chuk'wu'jok'won?// they demanded. //It's forbidden!! You'll be killed if you go there! You know what the Teeli do to Teela'u!//

But the young male had his pride on the line now. //That's just rumors,// he asserted. //I'll go just to show you I'm not a coward like you are! Who is brave enough to come, too?//

"Me!" Sapel spoke up at once, intrigued now by these strange creatures, the Teeli. He had to see them for himself.

//Me,// P'Kan told his brother. //I'll go with you.//

The boys all turned and stared challengingly at the girls. Little Leek'a, who hadn't understood most of what the others had been discussing, piped up, //I want to go!//

//No!// Picku snapped. //You're too small, Leek'a.//

//I am brave but not crazy,// Ginger stated. //And I won't be punished by Father, either. You are all going to be in big trouble from this!//

Chuk sent his sister a particularly rude image. //Coward! Storybringer! Cheat!//

Ginger bristled and her pupils dilated in anger. //Take that back!//

//Won't!//

While the two siblings quarreled, Picku appealed to her Vulcan friend. //Sapel, don't go! They will kill you! They hate us!//

"I want to go, Picku," the boy answered, his own male pride preventing him now from backing down. "Anyway, we'll be careful. We're just going to take a look then we'll come right back. I promise."

She hesitated uncertainly then said, //Then I'm coming with you. I don't want you to go there without someone to watch your back. I don't trust my brothers to do that. They're too foolish.//

//I heard that, Picku'acka'neech,// Chuk broke in. //I'm tired of arguing. I'm going now. Anyone who's coming with me, let's go now!//

So saying, the young male marched out of the sleeping hut, with P'Kan, Picku and Sapel close behind, disappearing into the darkness as if they'd never existed. Behind them, Ginger clutched Leek'a close to her chest and listened to them go, her teeth chattering with fear.

* * *

Christine looked up from her place within the circle of mothers to see Spock striding toward her through the quiet bustle of dawn activities. She could not suppress a smile, for he was back to being the vital, virile husband she knew so well. Tall and slim as ever, but more muscular than she'd known him on the Enterprise, he was clad in fringed and beaded buckskins, high moccasins reaching half-way up his lanky shins, his long raven hair rippling loose around his shoulders. Christine felt her heart thud harder at the sight of him and the memory of their night of passion sent a pulse of arousal through her.

He must have felt it through their bond, because his lips twitched into a quick little smile as he reached her, but he quickly became serious again.

"Have you seen Sapel this morning?" Spock asked his wife.

"No, but he's around here somewhere, I imagine," Christine replied. She was sitting cross-legged with several Lemurian females, all of them nursing their babies. They had been enthralled by the fact that the tall biped's mammaries were on her chest and were extremely bulbous. Their own nipples lay hidden within their pouches where their infants stayed for about a year after birth. Still, the action was the same and little T'Jenn's suckling was soon accepted by the other mothers as a common link between themselves and Christine.

The human woman now looked up curiously at her tall mate. "He's probably just sleeping late. You know there is never any slumber at a slumber party."

Spock crossed his arms over his chest and his brows rose delicately. "Vulcans do not have 'slumber parties', so I would not know whether any sleep occurs or not."

Christine pulled her mouth into an exasperated expression for a moment, then replied, "Well, take it from me. Kids don't sleep at slumber parties. They stay up all night talking."

"Then why are they called--"

"I don't know!" she interrupted before he could start a rhetorical argument. "Anyway, don't worry about Sapel. He'll show up sooner or later. When he does, I'll tell him you're looking for him."

"Please do," Spock answered with a hint of irritation evident in his voice. "I had intended to take him hunting with me, but the morning is slipping by too fast to wait on him."

"Then just go on and do your hunt. I doubt that he'll appear anytime soon. I'll keep an eye out for him," she assured her husband. "Anyway, I have a feeling that the last thing you need on a hunt is a sleepy, cranky, whiny child."

"Undoubtedly true," Spock conceded. "Very well. I hope to be back by mid-afternoon if all goes well."

"Just be careful, honey," Christine replied and reached her fingers up toward him.

Spock touched his fingertips to hers, saying all he needed to say through their mental bond. Then he turned and went to retrieve his bow and spear from their baobab tree house.

* * *

It had taken longer to reach the outskirts of Teeli territory than Chuk had planned. It was all Sapel's fault, too, simply because the Vulcan boy was not as agile or arboreal as the Lemurians were. He had slowed them on their travel here and that had irritated the young male, already burdened with the growing conviction that this entire venture was a mistake.

Still, the little group was at the border by dawn, staring across the little creek that divided the two clan-nations. All they saw was a continuation of the woodlands, identical to what they had just traversed. Nowhere could they see the promised Teeli monstrosities or wonders.

They paused to rest while Chuk peered intently across the way. After a while, P'Kan complained, //I don't see any Teeli! I knew you were lying!//

Chuk turned to face him, his visage fierce. //Quiet! They'll hear you! They're there, all right. They patrol all the time.//

Picku was shivering and pressed close to Sapel. //Let's go back now, Chuk'wu'jok'won. Maybe we can get home before they miss us.//

//Go back then!// Chuk ground out. //I'm going over the creek. You pouch-babies can stay here!//

"I'm going, too," Sapel whispered resolutely.

//Me, too,// P'Kan affirmed. He would not allow his older sib to outshine him. His mother was a lower ranked wife and Chuk had always acted superior as a result. Now the younger male was determined to more than match his bravery.

Picku chattered her teeth then gave in. //Then let's go and get out,// she said.

Chuk fluffed his cheek fur out smugly, showing off the bare beginnings of a ruff, then turned his attention back to the enemy territory.

All was quiet and he prepared to move but first warned them all, //Stay absolutely quiet. Stick close to me and follow my orders. Once we cross that creek, we're no longer in Teela'u territory. If the Teeli catch us, they'll KILL us! Is that clear?// The other three nodded solemnly. //Okay, let's go. Quiet and careful!//

Chuk descended the rough, gnarled trunk of their lookout tree, Sapel coming last and with more difficulty. When they were all on the ground, the older male led them to the brush bordering the creek, then hesitated for several minutes, listening with intense concentration.

Then he started forward again, wading through the shallow water with his three cohorts in tow. They went with measured haste, eager to get across the exposed area, but careful to splash as little as possible. Once across, all four sank into the brush and hunkered down for some while, listening for danger.

But the woods were quiet except for birdsong and the soft trickle of water behind them. When they were sure that no Teeli patrols were near, the youngsters set out again, four shadows moving silently across the dappled woodland floor.

* * *

When Spock returned in early afternoon, bearing a brace of hill hares, he found Christine on the lookout for him, barely controlling her worry. With T'Jenn cradled against her shoulder asleep, Christine went to meet her tall husband as soon as she spotted him coming into the village.

"Spock, I can't find him," she announced without preamble.

"You have checked with the clan-wives?" he asked.

"Of course. It's the first thing I did when Sapel seemed to be gone too long." She blinked back the frantic tears that hovered in her eyes. "I'd ask Charlie but he's not here in the village. He's gone down river to tend a patient of his."

"Have the wives seen their own children?"

Christine shook her head. "Some of them haven't been around this morning either. Picku's gone, too, and you know how she and Sapel--"

"Yes." Spock put a hand on his wife's shoulder and gently steered her toward their quarters, seeing that she was near her breaking point. "Come, let me put these things down and then I will attempt to locate him or at least someone who may have seen him. I suspect that there is little cause for alarm. He is experiencing a flush of independence at the moment and may simply be so involved with his friends that he has forgotten to check in with us."

"If he's out gallivanting, I am going to tan his behind for worrying me like this!" Christine vowed tearfully.

Spock didn't answer, but ducked as they squeezed through the slit in the baobab's gray trunk and into their living area. There, the Vulcan set his bow, quiver and spear in their places and laid the hares down by the hearth.

"First, let me see if I can reach him," Spock said. "Unless he has his mental shields fully raised, he should hear my summons."

"I hope so," Christine answered, shifting T'Jenn to her other shoulder.

Spock closed his eyes and reached out mentally to his son. //Sapel,// he Sent, allowing his mind to expand outward in search. There was no answer. He tried again. //Sapel -- hear me.//

The reply nearly staggered him with its force and level of fear.

//Papa!// Sapel's mind screamed back at him. //Papa, help!!// Then nothing came through except abject terror.

* * *

The four explorers had made their stealthy advance about a mile into Teeli country before they came upon a village and here they concealed themselves to watch the activity. There didn't appear to be much difference between the Teeli and the Teela'u except that the strangers appeared to live their lives on the ground rather than the trees. There were a number of females with young, both in and out of pouches, going about their business here, chatting among themselves as they gathered under the trees, involved in the early stages of food preparation.

//They don't look so different to me,// P'Kan said with a soft chirp to his brother.

//Look closer,// Chuk answered, equally soft. //Look at their trees. They're not natural.//

Now that he mentioned it, they all could see that the gray boles of the baobabs did not look right. They were too smooth, too symmetrical, and there appeared to be head-high mounds next to most of the trees, the same color gray and displaying the same artificial look.

//They build them out of clay from the river,// Chuk informed his companions. //Those mounds are more tree-rooms where they put things.//

"What things?" Sapel whispered.

Chuk's back fur rippled, the equivalent of a shrug. //Things,// he answered. //I told you, they've got things we don't have.//

The youngsters turned their attention back to the Teeli females. They were processing bowls of green pods, their nimble fingers working lightning fast to separate seeds from hulls, the seeds dropping into bowls in their laps while the hulls were tossed into a central pile.

After a while, P'Kan grew bored and murmured, //So, where is all the mating?// he inquired snidely.

His older sib glared at him. //They don't do it in the middle of the village, pond slug,// he answered scornfully.

//Then how do you know they do it at all?//

//Because I saw them,// Chuk hissed back.

//Quiet!// Picku ordered in a fearful whine, her golden eyes huge.

All of them made themselves small and motionless, for two large males had entered the area where the females were working. The Lemurian youngsters stared in amazement because the males were obviously guards. They were bigger than any lemur they'd ever seen and, moreover, stood fully upright, walking with a comfortable bipedal gait. Both carried spears with gleaming tips such as the Teela'u and Vulcan boy had never seen, and both were adorned with discs of the gleaming substance somehow attached to the fur of their chests.

Both guards stood and chatted amiably with the females, who offered them handfuls of the seeds they'd shelled. One female was especially bold, standing up and slipping a seed into the biggest male's mouth, her tail swishing coyly. The male chewed happily, all the time holding the female's gaze with his own. After he swallowed, he leaned over and licked the female's nose lightly and, most shocking of all, his hidden genitals peeked through his fur, a sign of his sexual arousal.

Picku gasped involuntarily and instantly shut up.

The guard flicked an ear as if batting at a fly, but did not seem to have heard the soft little noise. He and his partner spent a few more minutes munching seeds and flirting with the females, then they sauntered away through the village and out of sight.

The Teela'u relaxed and quietly let out their breaths. //That was too close,// Chuk said.

P'Kan turned to their sister and scolded, //You almost got us caught, Picku'acka'neech. Why didn't you stay quiet?//

//I'm sorry,// she stammered. //But you could see his...// She flashed a thought at them then curled her face into her chest in mortification.

//I TOLD you--// Chuk began then broke off with a start.

Something cold and sharp had poked him in the spine, something too dreadful for words.

Their hearts pounding wildly, the young explorers twisted and, with trepidation, looked up at the towering figures of the Teeli guards and their gleaming spear points.

* * *

Ginger crouched on her haunches, making herself as small as she could in the surrounding circle of angry adults. Spock and Christine stood just outside that circle, allowing Charlie and the clan-wives to conduct the interrogation, but listening closely.

Charlie was the main one questioning his daughter, with her mother, Juk'jee'ch'kan, an aristocratic buff-colored female, at his side.

//You knew where they were going and you didn't tell us?// Char-eek demanded.

Ginger squirmed. //I thought they'd all be frightened and come back before they actually did anything,// she answered, trembling. //I didn't want to get them in trouble.//

//Well, they ARE in trouble!// Charlie shot back, his fur standing out in agitation. //They are in DEEP trouble!//

Ginger sank even smaller and whimpered. //I'm sorry,// she whispered.

//You know how Chuk'wu'jok'won is,// her mother interjected. //He has not yet learned courage from foolishness.//

//I know,// Ginger nodded, eyes on the ground.

Charlie turned to his senior mate. //Juk-wife, I turn our child over to your discipline.//

//Yes, Char-husband. Tjin'juk'char'ool -- come with me!// The female's sharp, teeth-snapping command jarred them all as the female stalked away, her daughter following after as if to her doom.

Once they were gone, the other two wives whose children were missing turned in agitation to their husband. He hushed them with a clipped comment. //Silence! There is nothing to be done except to go into Teeli country and find them,// Charlie said. //I will take Lich'te and Ta'Tak with me.//

"And myself," Spock interrupted, stepping forward. "My son is with them, too."

Charlie looked up at him as if to protest, then bowed his head in assent. //Gather your weapons,// the old lemur instructed. //We leave as soon as you are ready.//

* * *

Spock slipped a small waterbag over his head and settled the strap on his shoulder, opposite the cord of his quiver, adjusted his bow and then caught up his hunting spear. As always, his Romulan steel hunting knife hung in its sheath from his belt. His expression grim and determined, he turned to Christine, her fear plainly written on her features.

"Bring him back, Spock," she said in a low voice, tears threatening to fall. T'Jenn picked up her mother's mood and whimpered in response.

"I will," he assured her firmly, trailing his fingertips down her cheek.

She crushed his hand against her face and held it there, eyes closed. When she opened them, the blue depths swam with unshed liquid. "And bring yourself back to me, too," she whispered.

Caressing her face tenderly, he took a long moment to gaze deep into her eyes, saying silently what could not be expressed in words. Then he took her in his arms, mindful of their tiny daughter between them, and kissed her with passion and fire. Christine moaned and sank against him, desperate to keep him with her just a little longer, but then T'Jenn cried in protest and her parents broke their kiss and backed off.

"I love you," Christine stated.

"T'ach'la, i'aduna," he murmured back, still intent on her gaze. After a minute he looked down at the child his wife cradled and rested his palm on the baby's head. In response, T'Jenn looked up directly into her father's dark eyes and the two seemed to share a few seconds of silent rapport.

Spock turned his attention back to Christine and leaned to kiss her one more time. "I will be back as soon as I can," he said then ducked out of their quarters and was gone.

"Be careful," Christine whispered after him. "But, oh, please, Spock -- bring our baby back!"

* * *

It didn't take long for the rescue party to track the missing youngsters to the place where they had crossed the creek. There were scuff marks in the mud on both banks. Without hesitation, the Vulcan and three Teela'u waded in and were soon through the shin-deep water.

Once on the other side, Ta'Tak kept a wary eye out for patrols while Spock, Charlie and Lich'te trailed the children. They soon found where they had crouched in the bushes outside the village and then their trail was joined by another, that of two adult lemurs. Then the entire group had gone into the village proper.

That posed a problem and the searchers shrank back to discuss the issue, careful to keep their conversation on a telepathic level.

//What now?// Ta'Tak asked.

//They must have been taken by the guards,// Charlie mused. //But where?//

//I will find out,// Spock said in an almost casual manner, although his expression held a grimness that the Teela'u did not perceive.

//How?// questioned Lich'te.

Spock's brows lifted slightly. //I will ask,// he replied and rose to his feet before the others could stop him.

Without further ado, the tall Vulcan pushed his way through the bushes and stepped out into the clear space beyond, making no effort to conceal himself.

Pandemonium erupted among the Teeli, the females shrieking in alarm at the sudden appearance of a creature such as they had never seen, and they began snatching up their children and fleeing into their houses in terror.

Spock walked a few more paces away from the woods, but did nothing threatening. As he expected, within minutes armed guards came running. He was mildly surprised at their fully upright stance and bipedal gait. They displayed none of the tendency of the Teela'u toward quadrupedal motion or the bouncing run of the young. Either these lemuroids were more evolved physically than their neighbors or they had become completely accustomed to erect posture.

But what astonished Spock the most was the tips of the spears the guards held on him as they surrounded him. The spearpoints were copper! Moreover, they all wore disks of beaten copper on their chests, apparently badges of authority or rank. The implications staggered Spock for a moment -- these people were mining and smelting metal! Nowhere had he seen any sign of worked metal among Charlie's people. Their most advanced technology was weaving fishing nets and carving harpoons and fish hooks from bone.

His thoughts were abruptly jarred back to the present when a burly Teeli male wearing a distinct air of authority arrived. He directed a comment at Spock, but the Vulcan did not understand him. However, making sure not to move in any way that might be interpreted as aggressive, Spock lifted his hands into plain sight and Sent a thought directly to the captain of the guard. //Touch ... talk,// he said.

The captain's pupils widened fractionally in his large yellow eyes, then he stepped forward, closer to the stranger. Spock held out his hand, palm outward, and after a moment of hesitation, the Teeli touched his palm to Spock's.

It was as if a light had been switched on in a dark room and the two found clear communication between them.

//Who are you?// the captain demanded. //What do you want?//

//I am called Spock. I come seeking a group of lost children. One of them is my son. The others are Teela'u.//

Anger shimmered through the link. //I know them. They were caught spying and were taken to the holding in Chika.//

//What is that?// Spock questioned.

//The city of the High Ones,// the captain answered sharply. //If you seek them there, you will not find them. We do not deal gently with Teela'u on our land.//

//My son is not Teela'u,// Spock answered. //As I am sure you are aware. But I intend to retrieve them all in any case.//

Before anything more could be said, there was a commotion in the bushes and guards appeared, herding Spock's companions ahead of them.

//More!// the captain sputtered. //This is intolerable!//

//I seek my sons and daughter whom you have taken,// Charlie stated with dignity. //Take me to them.//

//We will, indeed,// the guard captain responded icily. He motioned to his subordinates. //Bind them and take them to Chika for judgment.//

* * *

Christine looked up as Juk'jee, the beautiful senior wife of Char-eek's household, joined her. The Teela'u female was middle-aged by her people's standards, poised and used to wielding authority. She impressed Christine with her aura of serenity and power, making the human woman wonder if Juk'jee wouldn't make a formidable admiral in Starfleet, should things be different. But now the Lemurian approached her merely as another worried mother and settled onto the spread blanket on which Christine sat, little T'Jenn asleep in her arms.

//I would hold baby?// Juk'jee asked, her golden eyes soft with maternal instinct. Christine hesitated a bare instant then handed her child over into the lithe, gentle embrace of other female. Juk'jee took a moment to adjust her hold to the way she'd observed Christine cradling the infant, then settled into the almost boneless posture that was common among the lemurs. T'Jenn fretted for a second then fell back asleep, secure in the affection that surrounded her.

//Your baby big,// Juk'jee commented.

"Yes, very big," Christine answered. "So big I wondered if I would be able to get her out. It was a hard time."

Juk'jee made a soft, low sound in her throat. //You different from us. Our babies very small. No trouble.//

The two women talked quietly for a while, then Juk'jee looked away wistfully, her eyes seeming to scan far away. //Your son like mine. Very impulsive. Brave but fool hardy.//

"Yes, he is," Christine sighed. "Sapel is a remarkable boy. Very much like his father." She could feel Juk'jee's anxiety building and leaned to touch the lemur's arm lightly. "Spock and Charlie will find them. They will bring them home safely."

Juk'jee turned her huge golden eyes full on Christine. //I hope. I pray the Maker of Things will it so. But, Crr'sta, they go into land of death. I very afraid they not come back.//

Fear clutched Christine's heart at her words but she made herself pat the other's arm reassuringly. "They'll come back. I know it. I believe it!" But despite herself, she found herself adding, "I have to believe it. I have to."

* * *

The walk into Chika was long and tiring to the captives. Disarmed and with their wrists bound before them, they were marched for over an hour through a gradually climbing wood toward a cliffside that Spock could see now and then through the trees. The pace was not grueling but the Teela'u prisoners found it hard to maintain, unused to walking so far in a completely upright stance. For Spock, he was forced to temper his long-legged stride to one more suited to his captors. The tallest of them barely came to his shoulder and their short legs required his gait to conform to theirs, something the tall Vulcan found frustrating.

At last the trees fell away and they found themselves at the base of the cliff that rose up into the clear blue sky. The cliff face was rough, slashed with overhangs and, in each one, a cluster of simple mud-brick dwellings clung like impossibly huge mud-dauber nests. Ladders, runways and hoists joined all the dwellings together, the lemuroid inhabitants turning out to view the arrival of the second batch of strangers in as many days.

Spock stopped and craned his head back in amazement. This was a full-blown, advanced civilization, at the very least on a Neolithic level and probably well on its way to its own version of Bronze Age accomplishments. Considering that this was a totally alien civilization, there was no telling how such a find might fit into Radford's Universal Scale of Technology, taught throughout the Federation. The archaeologists would have a field day.

Indeed, Spock's innate sense of scientific curiosity momentarily made him forget his mission here and his current circumstances. He wanted to settle in and spend a few years studying this culture and their astounding achievements. Why, the papers he could write here--

A sharp poke in his buttocks brought him harshly back to reality. His guard was prodding him forward again.

"Where are we going?" Spock demanded, sending the question telepathically as well.

//Up,// the guard answered. //To the High Place.//

Spock looked upward once again but could not see their ultimate destination. Submitting to his guard, he started forward once more, wondering how they were going to scale the hundred foot cliff that confronted them.

He soon got his answer. A rudimentary elevator system was in place, lifting the guards and their prisoners by a series of stages until they eventually reached the flat tableland of the cliff top. What they found staggered all of the newcomers.

Something like an earthen mound or platform crowned the clifftop and on that rested a squat ziggurat or low stepped pyramid, constructed of reddish cut stone. It was not very large but it was as technologically advanced to these people as transwarp drive was to the Federation. Again Spock mentally calculated the equivalent in human history that would match it ... the Mississippian mound builders of North America, the Sumerian culture of the Persian Gulf region, maybe even the first attempts by the Egyptians at small pyramids. His mind skittered around the fact that non-humanoids had done this, trying to place these lithe, soft-looking sentients as the builders of this structure and failing to fully grasp it.

The disassociation grew even more vast. As they drew closer to the ziggurat, Spock could see that the stone was carved, covered with esoteric artforms never imagined by human or Vulcan. This was purely of this world, created by the lemuroid mind. The effect was significantly abstract, somehow crude and yet sophisticated at the same time, putting him in mind of the petroglyphs of Pyo on his own home planet, rock carvings left by a long forgotten Vulcan people, lost forever in time.

At the base of the foundation mound, the guards abruptly halted them. Spock's guard motioned him toward a long ramp leading up to the ziggurat, but Charlie, Ta'Tak and Lich'te were herded in another direction.

"Wait!" Spock protested. "Why are you separating us? Where are you taking them?"

//You are summoned,// the guard replied, urging the Vulcan on with the persuasive point of his spear. //Teela'u are not wanted.//

The prisoners were already out of sight and Spock had no choice but to comply.

Their assent led them up two more levels to the very top of the ziggurat. This appeared to be part temple and part dwelling and Spock immediately knew that this must be home to the leader of the Teeli, perhaps a priest-king. The building was not large by human standards, but was beautifully made, the red stones carved all over with the esoteric symbols that looked to be more than just decorative. Spock's analytical mind quickly identified hieroglyphs that might have served as the precursors of an alphabet, as well as depictions of astronomical symbols. He picked out sun signs and what could only be the phases of Terra Two's three small moons.

The more Spock learned of the Teeli, the more intrigued he became. This was a surprisingly advanced civilization and he couldn't help but wonder what else he would discover here. Again, he came close to forgotten his purpose here, the rescue of his son and the Teela'u children.

His guard herded him up onto the platform that held the temple/home and toward a wide doorway. He noted that there were no hard edges anywhere. All the angles had been smoothed and rounded into an eloquent shape, around which the wind sang softly. He had to duck as he went through the opening, its dimensions having been shaped for a people a foot shorter than he.

Inside was cool and pleasant, the floor scattered with an abundance of cushions and low carved stools made to fit a softer, more supple body than his own. The walls were painted with more of the hieroglyphs and what might be interpreted as a creation story, if he read it right. He might be totally wrong, however. This would take more study.

But then Spock's gaze was drawn to a small figure curled on a cushion by the opposite wall. It had been so still that he'd almost missed it in his awed scrutiny. But then the figure rose and moved toward him.

It was an elderly lemur, almost ancient, frail and moving with slow grace. Its fur had grayed all over to a creamy white, but its huge golden eyes were alive with purpose. The old lemur was dressed in a significant amount of gold jewelry, rings piercing through its ears, chains and armbands and anklets glittering in the soft light. Even its tail was adorned with golden bands. On its head was a cap of gold and from this rose a crest of bright gold and white bird feathers, forming an array like sun rays.

The guard with Spock immediately abased himself, crouching and covering his face with his hands and Spock, recognizing royalty when he saw it, likewise knelt down on one knee and bowed in reverence.

The old lemur came to stand before him and then, as Spock looked up into his face, the ancient one suddenly seized the Vulcan's face between his hands and pressed his face up against Spock's, the huge golden eyes boring deep into the man's startled brown ones. With a jolt, Spock realized that the old one was invading his mind and he instinctively threw his mental shields up to ward off the intrusion. It was to no avail. The lemur's mind was too powerful and he punched into Spock's psyche with ease.

It lasted no more than a minute then the ancient lemur priest pulled out and stepped back, seeming to assimilate the information he had gained. Then he did something amazing. In accented but passable English, he said, "Welcome to my home, Spock of Vulcan. I am Su'a."

Spock's brows shot up and his mouth fell open in utter shock. 'You speak English!" he stuttered.

Su'a peered at him mildly. "Stiriben'i Vuhlkansu'si," he said in fluent Vulcan, then switched back to English Standard. "Or I can speak any language that you speak."

"How is this possible?" Spock demanded, still too startled to fully comprehend this new development.

The ancient priest turned and settled back into his nest of cushions. When he was comfortable, he answered, "Do you not know? It is our minds conversing. If you know a language, then I know it as well."

Spock swallowed and wondered what else Su'a had gleaned from the quick mind meld.

"Many things," Su'a replied nonchalantly. "Sit. We will talk. You are hungry and tired."

The ancient one turned and spoke quickly in Teeli. An assistant appeared instantly and abased himself, then disappeared to do the priest-king's will. Spock was beginning to regain his equilibrium and raised his shields to their fullest extent, hoping he could block Su'a's access to his mind. The Lemurian didn't respond but Spock could not be sure if his attempt was successful or if Su'a was merely humoring him. His instinct told him that the little being was extraordinarily dangerous.

Once Spock had seated himself cross-legged on a cushion, servants appeared bearing platters of food and drink, setting them on the stone floor before the Vulcan. There was a variety of fruits, breads and, amazingly, cheeses. Involuntarily, Spock's mouth watered. He hadn't tasted cheese since he and Christine had been marooned on this planet seven years before.

Still, he hesitated, not knowing the intent of his host. Su'a lifted a delicate hand and gestured. "It is safe. Eat. I sense your need for food."

Eyeing him speculatively, Spock picked up a chunk of fruit and popped it into his mouth. The flavor burst sweetly against his tongue, almost too sweet, prompting him to reach for a piece of the biscuit-like bread. The nutty flavor of that reminded him of kreyla, which he had eaten at home, fresh from his mother's kitchen. Next he tried one of the crumbs of white cheese and found it tart and creamy. The flavor varieties seemed to accentuate Spock's hunger and he gave into it, reasoning that starving himself was not logical.

"You are not eating?" he asked the priest.

"My needs are very limited," Su'a replied. "I dine at morning rite. It is all I require."

Spock did not reply but finished the food before him, then quickly sucked the fruit juices from his fingers. There were no napkins or utensils and he had more than once observed the Teela'u licking their hands clean like cats. He wouldn't go that far, but it seemed the accepted custom here.

Su'a's nictating membranes flicked across his eyes in humor and he spoke a word. Immediately, a servant appeared and knelt before Spock with a bowl of water and a cloth. "We are not barbarians here," the priest said. "Please, clean your hands as you are accustomed to doing then we will talk. We have much to say regarding your mission here to our land."

Spock's apprehension returned full force, but he gave his attention for a moment to washing his hands then drying them on the cloth. It was of a fine weave, very much like linen, and he noticed that the servant was wearing a little apron of the same white fabric. It seemed more for the purpose of caste identification than apparel. The soft fur that covered the Lemurians' bodies precluded the need for actual clothing, but decoration and status were nearly universal concepts.

As the servant rose to take the bowl and towel away, Su'a spoke briefly again and the servant bowed then left silently. Su'a turned back to Spock. "Now, let us talk. You interest me. Tell me of yourself."

"First things first," the Vulcan answered. "Where is my son?"

"Do not be concerned," the Teeli replied. "He has not been harmed. I have already sent for him. He should be here shortly."

"And the others?"

Su'a gestured in an almost human manner. "No. I want to talk about you now. Tell me of your home."

Spock responded cautiously. "We come from the north country, many days' journey--"

"No, no!" Su'a interrupted. "Your home planet! I know you are not of Skarda'shah."

Spock barely contained his surprise but managed to answer, "Is that what you call this world?"

"It is our name for it," Su'a confirmed.

"We call it Terra Two," Spock said.

"We? You and your son?"

"And my wife. My mate."

"Ah, and how many more of you are there?" Su'a inquired. "You have a village there? A settlement in the north?"

It was a clever tactic, one that could either be simple curiosity or probing for numbers. Spock decided that there was no point in attempting to deceive the acute priest. "There are only four of us," he answered. "My wife and I, our son and our baby daughter. No more."

"And where are your wife and daughter?"

"They are in the Teela'u village," Spock responded. "Where I intend to return as soon as you release those who came with me and their children."

"Why do you live with such as those?" Su'a asked, ignoring Spock's last comment.

"They are our friends," the man answered.

"You have very poor taste in friends," the priest retorted. "Do you know realize that they are savages?"

"They saved my life," Spock responded stubbornly. "They took us in and shared all they had with us."

"You are very fortunate that they did not kill you. They live like animals and practice unspeakable rites against the Mother."

"I saw no evidence of this," Spock argued. "Our experience has been that of gentle, friendly people."

"They are dirty and illiterate, fit only for labor."

Spock could see that this argument would be endless. "Why do you hate them so?" he asked, genuinely curious.

The priest-king sat back into his cushions. "I see that you have been taken in by their tricks. They are not the pure aboriginals that you seem to think. For many years the Teela'u have plagued us, raiding our border villages, killing our people, and committing atrocities on those they captured. They are a danger and a nuisance. Fortunately, we have managed to progress eastward despite them."

"I find this hard to believe," Spock answered. "They seem a peaceful people. That is what we have observed, in any case."

"But you are a stranger here," Su'a pointed out. "I have observed them for the bulk of my life. Each time we move further eastward, we must contend with attacks and hostility. They do not understand that we have a right to be here! Our claim on this land is ordained by the Mother!"

Revelation dawned. It was an old historical pattern, played out for eons on countless worlds. "Ah!" Spock said. "I think I see now. Your people move into Teela'u territory and they object to the incursion. That is the basis for you enmity."

"You do understand," Su'a replied.

"I understand your viewpoint, but I also understand theirs. You are evicting them from their homes and lands. It is little wonder that they react in a warlike manner."

"An intelligent people would accept the benefits we offer," Su'a stated. "They cannot see that we are superior in all things and would improve their lives."

"On the contrary. They are content with their own way of life. They have no wish to adopt yours."

Su'a was beginning to show signs of irritation. "The land is ours. We will take it."

Spock tried another approach. "I have been to the lands in the east. There is nothing there worth taking. It is swamp and not much else."

"It is ours," Su'a responded firmly. "Our population grows and we must have it. The Teela'u are of no consequence."

At that moment, there was a disturbance and a dark-haired boy burst through the curtains, launching himself into Spock's arms. "Papa!!" he cried, throwing his arms around his father's neck, hugging him fiercely.

Spock embraced his son with profound relief, for a moment all of his attention focused on Sapel's return. Then, he loosened his hold a bit so that he could once more address the ancient Lemurian. "Thank you for returning my son to me," he said solemnly. "Now, if you would please release the others, we will go back and not disturb you again."

"I'm afraid that is not possible," Su'a answered. "You will stay here and await the coming of your wife and daughter. I have sent to have them brought here. As for the Teela'u ... that is being dealt with even as we speak."

* * *

Humming an ancient lullaby, Christine gently settled her baby girl onto the bed of furs, tucking a rabbit pelt around her. It was early evening and the sounds of last meal being prepared, of children at play and of neighbors chattering softly filtered in from outside the baobab's snug interior. Christine had spent a worrisome day, anxious to hear from her husband and son, but knew that it would likely be tomorrow before they returned. She stubbornly made herself think when they returned, not if. That was simply not an option.

T'Jenn's daily routine demanded her mother's attention and, for that, Christine was grateful. The baby was about four months old now and sported two teeth in her bottom gums, giving her smiles a charming expression that always made Christine laugh. Over her fever and temporarily between bouts of teething, Jenny was an alert, good-natured child, beginning to hold her head up and take notice of the world around her. She was especially fascinated by the Teela'u children who were roughly her age or the developmental equivalent. Their mothers often encouraged the little furry creatures out of their pouches as the females sat together and worked, and T'Jenn became part of the informal creche, watched over by their respective mothers.

As the day wore on, T'Jenn napped, woke, nursed, had to be changed several times, and finally, about sundown, began to display signs of approaching bedtime. Christine took her baby back to their living quarters and there spent a quiet, contented hour with her youngest child, bathing her and readying her for bed, then opening her robe to suckle the infant. T'Jenn kept her blue eyes fixed on her mother's face as she nursed and Christine talked softly to her the whole time, knowing that the baby couldn't understand her words but fascinated by Christine's voice.

"You are such a pretty girl," the woman smiled down at the baby. "You remind me of your grandmother, you know that? You've got her beautiful eyes. Yes, you do! Actually, both your grannies have blue eyes, but I think you got your Granny Rosalyn's eyes and not your Granny Amanda's."

T'Jenn blinked those deep blue eyes sleepily, but didn't move her attention away from the familiar face above her.

"Both your grannies would be so surprised to know about you and your big brother," Christine continued, a note of wistfulness creeping into her voice. "Oh, sweetie pie, I wonder sometimes if we'll ever see them again. They must think your daddy and I were killed a long time ago." Her voice caught and she lifted her head to gaze away in the distance, mentally searching for the bond that joined her and Spock at all times. "Oh, please, Spock," she whispered. "Please come back to me soon. Please bring Sapel back safe to both of us!"

She thought she felt an answering pulse but couldn't be sure. Spock's telepathic powers were sketchy over a distance. Vulcans were touch telepaths, although, if he concentrated hard, Spock was able to send and receive limited messages. It was a strain, however, and he only attempted it under extraordinary circumstances.

Christine became aware that T'Jenn's suckling was beginning to slack off and she looked down to see the baby's eyes closed and her little mouth loose about her mother's nipple. After a few second, she roused, latched on and nursed furiously once more.

It was a losing battle, though, because her lids dropped heavily once again and sleep claimed her. Humming softly, Christine gently detached her nipple from the baby's mouth and rearranged her robe to cover her breast. For a few moments, she simply sat and held her baby, her thoughts ranging from sweet contentment at the joys of the warm little bundle in her arms to sadness as she remembered the children she had lost.

Finally, Christine settled her sleeping infant onto her bed, then turned to the task of preparing her own supper, all the while listening for any sound that might indicate the return of her husband and son.

* * *

Spock had been awake the whole night, sitting in the dark chamber with his back against the wall and his son asleep in his arms. Sapel had clung to him fearfully from the moment they had been reunited and would not leave his father's side. Even after they had been taken to this small room on a lower level and been brought food and water, Sapel remained in physical contact. He refused to settle onto the numerous cushions to sleep until Spock finally drew one up near the wall, sank down cross-legged onto it and took his small son onto his lap.

He did not quiz the boy yet on all that had happened. Sapel was still too traumatized. There was nothing that could be done at the moment in any case. Throughout the long night, Spock had meditated as his son slept snuggled against him, secure that everything would be all right now that his papa was there.

Spock was not so assured. Su'a's last comment to him had been ominous in its vagueness, but he could not help but feel uneasy. Something was about to happen. He felt certain of it.

Sapel stirred in his arms but did not awake, settling down again with a sigh. In the early light of dawn, Spock gazed down at the sleeping child, quietly studying the little face. Sapel was six years old now by Terra Two years, but was closer to nine by the turnings of Vulcan or Earth. He was outgrowing his childish softness and beginning to sprout into the height and lankiness of pre-puberty. Cheekbones were becoming prominent in a face that would be long and hawkish, reflecting both of his parents' features.

Facially, he resembled Christine a bit more, but his eyes were Vulcan, dark and perceptive beneath brows like sweeping raven wings. But those eyes were closed now, dark thick lashes spread upon his cheeks, rosy with human blood and not that of Vulkhansu. His breath came softly between parted lips as he slept, still tender and vulnerable with youth, especially now in slumber.

Gently, Spock brushed back the unruly tar-dark hair that spilled over Sapel's forehead and reflected on the miracle of his little boy's existence. In quiet times such as this, he still marveled that this child was his, his blood, his genes. The heir of his line. Sarek would be hard-pressed to contain himself if he knew he had a grandson, Spock thought, picturing his own father's barely controlled excitement.

Spock could not refrain from a ruefully lifted brow. Sarek would view his grandchild as his last opportunity to bring up a son to honor the Family as a proper Son of Surak. He had certainly failed miserably with Sybok and then Spock. At least that was Sarek's viewpoint. Both his sons lost to gallivanting emotion, completely and irretrievably consumed by the antithesis of logic. But Sapel would be raised properly, becoming the perfect Vulcan.

Suddenly, Spock was very glad that Sapel was well out of Sarek's reach. The boy was too human, too strong-minded to submit himself to the Disciplines. Spock had tried to instill Surak's teachings in his son, but even he had to admit that the Tenets could not always be used here in this untamed and primitive planet. This was a place for new rules and for the art of adaption. Sapel was born to it. This was his planet, his home. And it was appropriate that the planet had been named Terra Two, because it had more in common with Earth than Vulcan. And Sapel was its true son. His nature would not take him on the old pathways. He might look Vulcan with his pointed ears and sweeping brows, but the blood of Terra ran in his veins, much stronger than that of his Vulcan ancestors. He would forsake Vulcan if he ever knew it. And that fact would tear Sarek apart should he ever have to confront it.

Sapel frowned in his sleep and made a moaning sound, wriggling in discomfort within the embrace of Spock's protective arms. At the same moment, Spock felt a surge of fear and shock flood through his link with Christine and he steeled himself for the blast of emotions that was about to assault him.

Whatever was happening ... it had begun.

* * *

Sudden crashes and screeches of terror yanked Christine from sleep as harshly as if she had been physically assaulted. For an instant she was disoriented, but then years of red alerts and emergencies kicked her into overdrive and she was on her feet and at the door of her living quarters almost before her brain had time to catch up with her body. T'Jenn had been jolted awake, too, and was screaming from her place in the bed furs, but Christine was too shocked by what she was seeing to react right away to her child's distress.

In the early dawn light, the village had erupted into pandemonium. Teela'u were scrambling up and down the trunks of the baobabs, clutching children, brandishing weapons, running every way possible, hooting and screeching in terror and anger … and among them was an invading force of Lemurians such as Christine had never seen. They were taller, heavier and armed with copper-tipped spears and knives of the flashing metal. As she watched, horrified, they were chasing down the Teela'u and slaughtering any they could catch. But the Teela'u were fighting back and a full scale battle was erupting before her eyes.

Christine fell back in shock and snatched her squalling baby up into her arms, wondering wildly if she should run or fight … and where she could possibly go. Her frantic plans were almost immediately rendered moot because three of the big lemurs discovered the slit in the baobab trunk and quickly pushed their way into it, backing Christine up against the wall with their spears. They chattered animatedly among themselves and the biggest one stepped forward, addressing her in a terse, threatening tone.

She clutched T'Jenn tighter against her. "What do you want!?" she demanded, but had no way of knowing whether or not they understood her.

They made no move to harm her, however, and the seeming leader gestured with his spear to indicate that she should precede them out the opening. Christine hesitated. She was clad only in her soft leather night dress, barefoot, and T'Jenn was crying hard with fear, hunger and a wet diaper. But their attackers didn't appear to care. Again they indicated that she was to go and reinforced their orders with the tips of their spears.

Christine shakily obeyed, ducking through the opening and out into the carnage that was going on full force around her. The three Lemurians prodded her ahead and hurried her out of the village and into the woods. Behind her, she could hear the screams and howls of the battle for a very long time, echoing through the shattered quiet of the morning.

Her captors force marched her toward the west, uncaring when she stumbled or winced as her bare feet encountered stones or sticks in the leaf litter. T'Jenn continued to cry in bewildered misery, unable to understand why her mother did not tend to her needs, although somewhat comforted by Christine's presence nevertheless.

As for Christine, she was shivering in fear and cold. The early morning chill was still prevalent, mist hovering just above ground and dew heavy on all the plants and underbrush. At least her continual movement kept some warmth generating in her body, but shock almost counteracted it. Tears hovered in her eyes, but she fought to keep them from falling. She didn't know who these Lemurians were but she was damned if she was going to cry in front of them.

Within a half hour they came to a wide creek and Christine was herded across it, the chill water nearly numbing her naked feet and legs. The Lemurians didn't seem to notice the cold, pausing on the other side to give their furred feet a vigorous shake and then shoving their captive onward. T'Jenn was only whimpering now in her mother's arms and Christine did what she could to keep the baby warm.

Time blurred into a dazed passage of sensations and scenes ... a Teeli village where many of the inhabitants turned out to gawk, more trees and a climbing pathway, finally a towering cliff that seemed to be swarming with lemurs and high perched houses and pulleys hauling things up and down. By now Christine was too much in shock to register anything. They had been traveling for about three hours and she was exhausted, dehydrated and half frozen. She didn't protest when her guards led her into an elevator-like contraption and they were hoisted up the cliff face.

After two or three changes to other buckets that lifted them ever higher, at last they were deposited at the top and she was marched up a stone ramp to a temple-like building and down one side to a curtained doorway. There the biggest guard shoved her roughly inside, nearly causing her to stumble on the threshold.

She was caught by a pair of large, warm hands and immediately lifted into strong supportive arms, to be deposited a few seconds later on a layer of cushions near the wall. Then Spock was holding her and T'Jenn in a frantic embrace, one joined almost immediately by a weeping Sapel, clutching her and crying, "Mama! Mama!"

Christine let her hold on the world slip and sank back into darkness.

* * *

Christine came to with Spock lightly slapping her cheeks and addressing her urgently. "Christine! T'hyla -- wake up!"

She blinked groggily, for a moment not knowing where she was, then it all came back to her. She sat up and instantly groped for T'Jenn. "Baby! Where--"

"It's all right," Spock assured her hastily. "Sapel's got her."

Christine glanced over to see her son holding his baby sister and bouncing her slightly as he'd often seen her mother do. The infant still looked upset and teary-eyed, but wasn't bawling at the moment.

Spock turned his wife's attention back to him. "How are you feeling? Are you hurt? What did they do to you?"

She gestured for him to slow down, trying to get her thoughts together. "How'm I feeling? Cold! I'm half naked and frozen to death! And angry and … frightened … and … and…" Beginning to tremble from all of those reasons and shock, too, Christine felt her eyes filling up. "They … they raided the village … oh, Spock! They were killing them! It was awful!"

"But did they hurt you?" he demanded anxiously.

She thought about it. "Am I hurt? No, I don't think so, except for stubbed toes and scratches." She shakily looked down at her legs and feet and discovered more blood than she'd thought possible. But a quick exam revealed its source. "Shit! What a time to start my friggin' period!" And she burst into tears at this, the last straw.

Covering her face with her hands, Christine sobbed as all of her emotions broke free. Spock gathered her in his arms and held her until her weeping subsided a little, then he pulled away and steadied her. "Christine! What about T'Jenn? Did they hurt her?"

Christine shook her head, wiping her tears away with the heel of her hand. "No, but she's hungry and wet and I know all this must have scared her to death."

Spock rose to his feet and marched to the doorway, shoving the fabric barrier aside. A Teeli guard stepped in front of him and brandished his spear. The Vulcan would have none of it, glaring down at the shorter being. Grasping the Teeli's shoulder to assure that his message got across telepathically, Spock commanded in a tone that brooked no argument, "My wife and daughter need assistance! I want blankets and hot food brought here immediately! I want a stack of those towel cloths and I want something to warm up this room. Bring water and a bowl so that my wife may wash herself and do it now!"

The Teeli's eyes narrowed and he said something back to Spock. But it only made the tall Vulcan lean down to look him straight in the face. "And you tell Su'a that I want to see him! I protest the treatment of myself and my family!"

Evidently intimidated by the man's threatening attitude, the guard pulled away and barked out an order to a subordinate, who immediately hurried away, then turned to glare back defiantly at Spock. But the Vulcan seemed appeased for the moment and let the curtain drop back into place, returning to where his wife lay shivering on the cushions.

"Spock, where are we? Who are these people?" she asked, shivering.

"They are the enemies of Charlie's people," he answered and knelt to rub her cold feet vigorously between his hands. "I was taken to their king and learned that the reason for their conflict is that the Teeli -- these people -- want the land that Charlie's people have. It is very much like the wars that raged during Earth's 19th Century when more advanced cultures moved in and drove out the indigenous cultures." He moved to her other foot and chafed it thoroughly with his palms, imparting his own body heat to her as well as getting her blood flowing. "I very much fear that Charlie and his kin are doomed."

"But where are they?" his wife asked. "In another room here?"

"No," Spock answered, keeping his eyes firmly on his work. "I have not seen them since we were brought here, but I believe that they have been taken to a place of incarceration."

"Or worse?" Christine whispered and Spock raised his eyes to meet hers. He didn't answer but the hopelessness in his deep brown eyes said it all.

They were interrupted as the door curtain was drawn back by one of the guards and several servants entered, bearing the things Spock had demanded. As the servants knelt to place the items on the floor, Spock was startled to discover that he recognized the little female crouching before him, offering him a stack of linen towels, her eyes downcast. She had a diamond-shaped patch of brown fur on her nose and he remembered seeing this distinctive mark the past fall when he was convalescing in the Teela'u village. She was one of Charlie's relatives.

Unobtrusively, he reached out to touch her hand with his fingertips. //Chik'pu?// he said mentally.

She looked up at him, her golden eyes enormous in her petite face. Then she flicked her gaze at the guard and quickly lowered her eyes again. //Char-eek's friend,// she answered. //I am sorry to see you here.//

//How long?// he asked.

//Eight moon turns.//

//Have you seen Char-eek? Where have they taken him?//

She looked up at him, her pupils dilating with distress. //Gone,// she replied.

The guard barked an order at her and she quickly handed the towels over and backed out with the others. The curtain fell back, leaving them alone again.

Besides towels and food, the servants had brought a little brazier on tripod legs, a couple of finely woven blankets of woolen-like material, a large copper bowl, and a large clay jug of water, enough for washing and drinking.

Spock immediately turned to the matters at hand, pouring water in the bowl and setting it on the brazier to heat. "Clean yourself and attend to your needs and I will see to T'Jenn," he said to Christine.

"Gladly," she answered wearily.

The water heated quickly in the copper bowl and they set about their chores. Spock had Sapel rip a couple of the linen towels into smaller sections to be used as washcloths and diapers, then laid his baby daughter down on a mat and stripped off her soaked and dirty diaper.

Christine turned her back to them and began her bath, keeping her nightdress, her only clothing, on for modesty but washing herself as thoroughly as she could. Once she was clean, she ripped a long strip off a towel and rolled the rest up as a makeshift sanitary napkin. She wedged this between her legs and secured it with the belt strip.

Spock had cleaned and diapered T'Jenn by now and wrapped her in one of the blankets. It was thin but soft and warm and he wondered what animal had supplied the wool. The baby was happier now that she was dry and snug, but her hunger came back into sharp relief. Her little face puckered up and she began to cry.

"Okay, let me have her now," Christine said. "She's starved and my boobs are about to explode!" She moved over to the pile of cushions and took her child into her arms, opening her dress. "And would you get me that other blanket, sweetie?" she asked Sapel. "My feet are freezing!"

The boy hurried to comply and tucked the covering around his mother's feet and legs. Christine beamed at him then turned her attention to maneuvering her turgid nipple to her baby's mouth. T'Jenn latched on at once and began to suck ravenously. Christine had to break her nursing every few minutes to keep her from drinking too fast.

Spock took the bowl of dirty water to one side of the room where they had discovered a niche that obviously served as toilet facilities. He dumped the water and then used a little more water to wash it out thoroughly, rinsing out the washcloths and spreading them to dry near the brazier. Afterwards, his hands cleaned and toweled, he turned to the food the Teeli servants had brought.

"Oh, my God, is that cheese?" Christine exclaimed as she looked over the variety of foods on the large platter.

"What's cheese?" asked Sapel.

"The curds of soured milk that are compressed and allowed to age," Spock answered, passing Christine a piece of bread with some of the white crumbs balanced on it.

Sapel wrinkled his nose. "Yuck! How can you eat that?" he demanded.

His mother had closed her eyes and had her lips pressed together against the tartness. But the expression on her face was one of pure bliss. "Oh, that's absolutely heavenly!" she exclaimed. "It tastes like a ... um ... mild Swiss, don't you think? It's got that same nutty flavor."

"It reminds me of q'eem t'kan," Spock answered, having some himself. "That's made from paran milk. Would you like to try a bit, Sapel?"

"No!" he declared, but helped himself to some of the hot bread and dipped it into a whipped honey sauce.

"Don't eat just sweets," Christine admonished him.

After allowing them to dine for a few more minutes and watching Christine switch T'Jenn to her other breast, Spock asked her quietly, "Can you tell me what happened?"

Christine suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. "I was asleep when it started," she said in a tremulous voice, looking down to caress her baby's dark head. "There was suddenly a lot of yelling and running and before I knew it, three soldiers had burst in and forced me and T'Jenn out. They didn't even allow me time to put any clothes on or get anything, just rushed us out and off into the woods. We walked all morning until we got here. I don't know what happened to the others back in the village. The soldiers were killing people but they were fighting back too. It sounded like a real war had erupted." She looked up at her husband, her blue eyes large with tears. "Tell me what happened to you!"

Spock related his part of the story, adding what he had learned from the little slave Teela'u who had brought them towels. "I don't know what she meant by 'gone'," Spock said.

"What do we do now?" Christine questioned. "What's going to happen to us? Will they let us go or kill us or enslave us or what?"

"I do not know, Christine," he answered her, his voice holding a bit of tension. "I intend to find out as soon as I have an audience with Su'a, their king. He is a very powerful telepath and I fear he will be a formidable foe. But one way or another, we will get out of here. All of us." The Vulcan's brows lowered over his dark eyes, as hard and intense as Christine had ever seen them.

"One thing we've got to manage to do is get back to the village and get our things," she responded. "Everything we have is back there ... our clothes and supplies, T'Jenn's diapers, the tents, the packs, the..." Abruptly, Christine's voice failed her and her face drained of color. "Oh, my God! The phasers, Spock! The phasers are in the backpacks! If anyone finds them..."

But she didn't have to say anything more. Spock was already on his feet and heading toward the door.

Spock pushed aside the Teeli guards who tried to block his way and stalked up the ramp to the upper level, ignoring the guards who ran to stop him. A foot taller and immensely stronger than the Lemurians, the Vulcan was only halted as he reached the temple door and was confronted by a half-dozen brandished spears barring his way.

A jeweled attendant appeared, glaring at those causing the disturbance. Spock said forcefully, "I must see Su'a now." The attendant stared back at him for a moment, but evidently understood him for he ducked back into the temple and was gone for several minutes, then returned and spoke a word to the guards. They pulled back and lifted their spears out of the way.

Spock strode past them and followed the attendant into the audience room. The little, ancient priest was curled on his nest of cushions at the far end of the room, impassively watching the tall Vulcan approach, sunlight through the high windows flashing blindingly off the golden ornaments adorning his slight body.

Spock stopped and bowed a shallow reverence then straightened again. "Thank you for seeing me," he said, although his tone was edged with hardness.

"Did you not command it?" Su'a replied, his own high, accented voice holding the same sharp undertone. "Not many would be so bold."

"I am not generally given to subterfuge," Spock answered.

Su'a's ears twitched slightly forward. "You will forgive me but I do not know this word. Perhaps you know a simpler one? Trickery or lying, perhaps? Is that not what you mean?"

"I have not come to bandy words with you," Spock answered, his brows lowering slightly over dark blazing eyes. "I have come to protest the events of this morning and the manner in which my wife and child were treated."

"Did I not have them brought to you alive and unharmed?" Su'a shot back. "Are they not now in the space I have provided you? Eating my food, warming themselves at my fire? You would do well to remember that you are a guest here in my house."

"I am grateful for this," Spock answered. "However, my wife was not allowed to dress herself in suitable clothing or gather supplies needed for the baby. Everything was left in the Teela'u village and may have been destroyed by your troops in their needless rampage -- which I also protest! These things are essential to our survival. I insist that you allow us to return there so that we can retrieve our supplies ... if they are still there."

Su'a leaned back into his cushions and regarded Spock with half-lidded eyes. "I shall send to have them brought here."

"That will not be acceptable," Spock responded. "There are objects that are ... sacred ... to us. Only we may handle them."

"You think me stupid, Spock? Do you believe that I do not know your true purpose? You wish to go to the aid of your savage allies. I will not permit such a thing."

"I only wish to retrieve our supplies. We will then leave you," Spock answered, wondering if Su'a could read the deception in his statement.

The priest sat silent for several minutes. "I find I grow irritated at your continual lies. I see within you, Spock. You think I will simply allow you to walk away from here? Simply allow you to supply your friends with weapons of magic? This you will not be allowed to do."

For an instant, Spock had the terrible suspicion that the Su'a was already in possession of the off-world armament that he so desperately needed to go back and retrieve. But, calling the Lemurian's bluff, he asked, "What weapons of magic? I have nothing but my bow and spear."

The priest's eyes narrowed in anger. "Crude toys that any child might possess!" he snapped. "You know well what weapon I mean! The sky knife you wore here! The magic metal that does not break or bend!" And Su'a abruptly reached beneath one of the cushions to pull forth the Romulan hunting knife that Spock had kept at his side during the long years of abandonment on this planet. "I know that it is not a product of this world. I know it came from the sky with you!"

As the Vulcan attempted to find something to say, Su'a rose from his cushions and stalked toward him, the knife lying across the palm of his hand. "I want the secret, Spock! I want to know the magic of this metal! I want more! Such weapons will make us invincible!"

But Spock's surprise was fading rapidly into resolution. "I cannot tell you how steel is made because I do not know the process. But even if I did, I would not give such knowledge to you."

"I think you will, Spock," the Teeli hissed, staring malevolently up at the taller being. "I think you can be persuaded to answer the riddle of the sky steel. I beg you to remember that your mate and offspring are my ... guests here as well. How they are treated depends on you."

Spock took a threatening step closer to the ancient priest, his eyes as hard as obsidian. "It is extremely unwise to threaten a Vulcan, Su'a. I have many times your physical strength. Should I choose to kill you, there would be little you could do to stop me."

"Could I not?" Su'a almost seemed to laugh sardonically. "You over-estimate your strength and determination. Do you think I have not faced such a thing before?" His gaze drilled into Spock's with utter fearlessness. "Come and behold my power."

The priest turned and walked through a curtained entryway nearby and Spock had little choice but to follow, ducking under the low doorway.

He found himself in a dark chamber lit by numerous oil lamps, dominated by a massive altar at the far end on which rested a grotesque carving of a Teeli female, a vast caricature in red granite, sitting cross-legged and holding across her lap a shallow bowl, ready to receive offerings. But it was not this idol that made his jaw go slack as he turned to observe the contents and wall hangings. It was a trophy room, or sacrificial storehouse, or a chamber of horrors, depending on one's point of view. Every inch of the walls and floor were covered with Teela'u pelts and scalps, as expertly tanned as any that Christine had ever fashioned into clothing, but these pelts were not from animals. They were from sentient, civilized beings, and there was every size represented here from full-grown adult males down to tiny babies not yet out of the pouch.

It got worse. Along one wall was a long stone bench upon which sat the dried, decapitated heads of a dozens of Teela'u, probably leaders that had been captured and sacrificed on the carved altar. There were various other body parts on display, too -- hands, feet, eyes, genitals -- but it was what was nailed to the alltar wall that made the blood drain from Spock's face and his stomach lurch in utter revulsion.

On either side of the stone goddess were the stripped skins of two humanoid forms, still bearing the greenish tint and black hair of a very familiar race. They were unmistakably Romulan.

Su'a waited until he was sure that Spock had had time to thoroughly take in the contents of the altar room, then he said in a dark voice, "The Mother is hungry. The little female would suit her well."

For a split second, Spock didn't understand what he was saying, then his heart froze in mid-beat. Barely containing his fury, he swung on the priest. "Her death means your death," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"And then the young male," the priest continued implacably.

"No," Spock pleaded, fury giving way to desperation.

"And finally your mate. A fine offering to the Mother God."

Spock shut his eyes against the nightmare vision he was picturing. "I cannot tell you what you want to know, Su'a," he stated. "I am forbidden to do so by all the rules I live by."

"That is unfortunate," the Teeli answered, unmoved. "Go back to your sleeping room, Spock, and think very hard about which is more important to you … your rules or your family. I will send for you at dawn and receive your answer then."

* * *

Deep in meditation, Spock sat in lotus-seat, facing the curtained doorway. It was a flimsy defense against the Teeli, should they decide to seize any of his family, but it was all he could do at the moment. He was not meditating on which was more important, the Prime Directive or his family -- that was a non-issue. Instead, he was attempting to formulate a plan to get them safely away from the murderous Teeli priest-king and also to free the enslaved Teela'u, both his companions and their children and those others who had been captured long before.

But first he had to get Christine and their children to safety. It would have to be done tonight, after the village settled down to sleep. He didn't know how many guards would be on patrol or even how much of the village would be between themselves and safety. Their direction of escape concerned him as well. He did not want to take them out the way they had come in. Getting down the cliff face would be a problem and would cost them time they could not afford. Instead, he would risk a path to the north or west. The plateau on which the temple sat was the edge of a highland area that led eventually to the foothills of the western mountain range. Although he had no idea what lay in that direction, he decided that it was the fastest path away from the temple complex. He would simply have to improvise as he went along.

Then, once Christine and the children were safely away, he would attempt to free the Teela'u slaves. He could not fight their war for them, but he could attempt to give them a helping hand, particularly Charlie and his captive sons and daughter.

He also resolved to get his knife back from Su'a. Not only was it irreplaceable, but Spock had no intention of allowing Su'a to posses this "superior" technology. The Teeli were clever and intelligent. They just might figure out a way to reproduce steel, or at the very least to forge iron. They were already far ahead of the Teela'u in their mining and use of copper. By natural progress, they might even be on the verge of discovering bronze. He would not allow them to leap to industrial steel to use as weapons. They already had enough of an advantage over their stone-culture rivals.

And somehow he would have to get back to the Teela'u village and retrieve their packs and the phasers they contained. It would need to be done quickly and before Su'a could strike at dawn tomorrow.

Spock opened his eyes, his innate time sense telling him that it was sundown. It would be dark soon but too early to begin. He must be patient as he prepared himself. Flexing his muscles to return himself fully from his meditative state, Spock called, "Sapel."

The boy appeared promptly. "Yes, Papa?"

"Sit with me, Sapel," the grim-faced Vulcan ordered. "I want you to tell me everything you can about where you were held captive, every detail about the village that you can remember, and any other thing you can think of, no matter how trivial it may seem."

* * *

"Let me have T'Jenn," Spock murmured, his face barely illuminated by the wan light of the brazier. Christine handed the baby into her husband's arms and watched as he cradled her for a moment, calming her sleepy fretfulness. Then he carefully placed his fingertips on the child's face and slipped into her mind. Within a minute, he backed out once more, having placed her into a deep slumber from which she would not awaken until morning.

Spock returned the baby into Christine's care and she wrapped the infant in one of the blankets. She already carried the other one as a sling filled with the rest of the linen towels and some of the food. Sapel had a bag fashioned from a towel, holding everything else they could use from their evening meal. Two of the towels had been ripped into strips and wound around Christine's bare feet, rudimentary protection but the best they could do. If Spock managed to return to the Teela'u village, he would get her clothing and moccasins, but for now this would have to do.

They were ready and Spock moved silently to the curtained doorway, listening intently. He was absolutely still for a long moment then struck with blinding speed and, within a heartbeat, he had seized the Teeli who stood guard outside their door and had dragged him inside, his hand over his mouth and his powerful arm around the struggling Teeli's throat.

Spock did not hesitate in his actions. He had resolved any issues he might have had and taken the logical course. With a quick jerk of the guard's chin, he had snapped the Lemurian's neck. It was fast and instantaneous, tal-shaya working as well on these beings as on Vulcans. Sapel hid his face in his mother's side, but Christine had not flinched either. These creatures were going to kill her children. She would give no quarter in protecting her babies.

Quietly, Spock laid the body on the floor but caught up the copper-tipped spear. It was a foot shorter than he was used to, but he would not pass up any weapon. He stood listening once again, then nodded and slipped out the doorway, his wife and son close on his heels.

For a few seconds, they paused and got their bearings, then Spock led them down to the ground level of the temple mound. The moons had already set and there was a slight overcast obscuring the stars. Faint light came from occasional lamps in use here and there, but for the most part, the night was extremely dark.

Spock was thankful for that. The Lemurians had superb night vision. His own was better than a human's, but the natives here were evolved from night-dwelling creatures. Fortunately, the modern Teeli had changed to diurnal in their habits.

The village was large and stretched for about a mile along the clifftop, a maze of narrow lanes between mud huts and tree dwellings. At times it was so dark that the escapees could not see each other, but it was a certain bet that the patrolling guards or late night villagers had no such problem. Several times the family was forced to crouch hidden in the blackest shadows, frozen immobile, until the danger had passed and they could move on.

After one particularly close call, Christine pressed her mouth against Spock's ear and whispered, "How much farther, do you think?"

He shook his head. "I do not know," he whispered back. "The houses seem as close together as ever."

Sapel had been peering long an alley, straining to see, and came back to join his parents. "I think we're near the wall," he hissed in a barely audible voice.

They moved cautiously up the alley and found that indeed they had reached the village's protective stockade fence, the perimeter and gate guarded by watchful Teeli guards. Their attention seemed to be the outer darkness, however, as if they were expecting an attack from that direction.

"How are we going to get past those?" Christine whispered.

"I do not know," Spock murmured back, studying the fortification for any place where they could find a weakness and manage to get through.

Suddenly, there was a disturbance as a Teeli soldier came running from the direction of the main part of the village and spoke with great agitation to the other guards. One, seemingly the captain, made a sweeping gesture and gave a loud order. Immediately half the guards hurried away, running at top speed back toward the temple.

"Uh oh," Christine whispered. "Looks like they've discovered we're missing."

"So I would assume," Spock answered. "This complicates--"

He broke off abruptly, jerking as a furry hand grasped his forearm from the darkness. //Do not be afraid,// said the mental voice of the Lemurian who had appeared beside him. //And keep completely quiet. We are Teela'u. We're here to help you.//

The Teela'u waited until the Teeli soldiers had dispersed then continued. //I am Fala'qan. We learned that you had been taken by Su'a and that Char-eek is also a prisoner, among others of our clan. The Teeli have warred with us for many years, but the attack on Chi'lat was worse than any of late. We are here to rescue our brothers and avenge our dead.//

//How did you find us?// Spock questioned, aware now of other bodies crouched in the darkness around them.

//We have many eyes in this village,// Fala'qan answered enigmatically. //Chik'pu passed the word that you had escaped and we thought you would attempt to flee on the upland side. We have watchers at the other gates.//

//Can you get my mate and children out to safety?// Spock asked intently.

//And you as well,// Fala'qan assured him.

//No. I am going back to the temple,// the Vulcan answered with determination. //This is not finished yet. I came here on a rescue mission and there are many to be rescued. More than I knew at first.//

Fala'qan's large eyes seemed to gleam in the darkness. //This night all will be free,// he replied. Then his gaze shifted back to the gate in the stockade. //Stay quiet now. We will open the way.//

The Lemurian moved away silently, followed by his companions.

The firefight was over quickly, the Teela'u moving like ghosts in the darkness. They surprised the guards and overwhelmed them, slitting throats with stone knives as sharp as any surgical blade. When they had disposed of their enemy, the Teela'u opened the gate and the warriors who had been

waiting outside, beyond the reach of the torchlight, swarmed in. They were armed with flint-tipped spears and obsidian knives, bows and arrows, clubs and cudgels. Fala'qan motioned Spock to bring his family forward.

//Go with Ak'san now,// he said. //He will take you to a safe place.//

Spock turned to his wife. "Take the children to shelter. I'm going back with the warriors. There is much work to be done tonight."

"No!" Christine automatically responded. "Please, let's just go!"

But Spock shook his head, his dark eyes serious. "We are part of this, Christine, and I won't abandon our friends. I've got to help them and also to get our things back. You go with Ak'san and keep the children safe. I'll catch up with you. I don't expect this to take long."

She stared at him fearfully for a long moment, then threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. He returned it, then pushed her away. "I must go. Hurry!"

Then he was gone, disappearing into the darkness with the Teela'u warriors who were already dispersing through the alleys and lanes on the village.

* * *

The journey back to the temple was a nightmare of battling bodies, burning buildings and screams of terror. Several times, Spock found himself under attack as Teeli soldiers appeared out of the darkness and were on him almost before he could react. Using the short spear he'd acquired in their initial escape, he knocked his attackers off, thrusting at the half-seen combatants, feeling the spear point connect with flesh, then yanking it free and moving on. He bled from half a dozen wounds, fortunately minor, dark green streaming down his face from a lucky thrust that sliced open his left cheekbone.

After an endless time, Spock found himself at the base of the temple, still in the company of Fala'qan and his warriors. The fighting here was fierce as Teeli and Teela'u clashed in savage combat. The Vulcan's ancient warrior blood was high as well, afire with the adrenalin of battle. Towering over the four-to-five foot Lemurians, he fought his way up the ramp to the highest level while Fala'qan led his troops toward the lower levels where slaves and captives were housed. Their aim was to free their brothers. Spock was after another goal.

Dispatching the last two defenders, he ducked and plunged into the audience room, breathing heavily and alert for more attackers. There were none. All of the fighting had moved lower down. The room seemed to be in order, its many cushions scattered about and Su'a's "throne" of pillows piled in its usual place. Spock strode purposefully across the room and tore the pile apart. There was nothing hidden within them.

Spock moved on to the hellish altar room, determined to dismantle the entire temple if that's what it took. The fury and righteous indignation he felt, any other time, would have sent him into hours of meditation in order to negate such destructive emotions, but he had already meditated and the logic he had reached said that the Prime Directive did not apply here. These people -- or at least Su'a -- already knew where Spock came from, had already had contact with and had killed out-world beings, was intent on using alien weapons to destroy their neighbors, and had threatened to murder Spock's entire family if he did not consent to help him in that pursuit.

This was a blood-thirsty and aggressive people, on the move and destroying peaceful cultures as it encountered them. Right or wrong, Spock was personally involved in it now. And, in any case, this was not a Federation world and its laws did not apply here. More ancient rules governed here and Spock had surrendered to their authority.

The altar room was as he remembered it, filled with its grisly trophies, the red granite idol of the Mother God sitting cross-legged with her bowl across her lap, awaiting sacrifices and offerings. In the flickering light of numerous oil lamps, she seemed to be watching him, her mouth gaped open hungrily. For a second, he had an uncomfortable flash of déjà vu, for it reminded him of the ancestor shrine that had resided in his cabin for many years. But that figure was benign. This one exuded evil and malice.

Spock turned his attention away from the idol and searched the room thoroughly. There was no sign of his things here either. He stood puzzling over where Su'a could have hidden them, then his eye caught sight of another doorway, hidden behind a curtain of Teela'u pelts.

Taking up a lamp from the altar, he cautiously entered the room, alert for danger, but instead found himself in a treasure room, holding offerings of material goods. There were golden objects here and things of burnished copper, pottery and beautiful vases of painted clay, intricately crafted baskets and precious stones in piles. There were also weapons of Teela'u design and Spock abruptly spotted something familiar in the half-darkness -- his own hunting spear, bow and quiver of arrows. Gladly, he caught them up again and savored the weight and balance of the long, straight shaft he himself had crafted.

Then, in the flickering lamplight, he saw something else incongruously housed in this primitive storeroom. Folded and stacked neatly were two Romulan flight suits, their accompanying boots beside them, undoubtedly the clothing of the unfortunate men whose flayed hides adorned the altar room wall. Quickly, Spock picked up one of the boots and examined it. The leather was old and stiff -- he wondered how long ago those ill-fated Romulans had met their end here -- but he thought oiling would restore the leather's suppleness. It was hard to gauge a size, but he thought Christine could wear the smaller pair of boots. The other pair looked bigger yet, but he didn't have time to try on shoes right now.

Seven years of exile on Terra Two had taught Spock never to pass up an opportunity and he did not let this one pass. Snatching up the bundle of clothing and boots, he was startled when something clattered to the floor. Bending down to see what he'd dropped, he was shocked at what he found. It was a Romulan blaster, the grip smashed, but the energy chamber and barrel still intact.

He set down what he was carrying and picked the blaster up to examine it more closely. It did not fit the hand as easily as Starfleet phasers did and was a heavier, clumsier weapon. In addition, he was unfamiliar with the workings but there were some aspects of the design that were easily interpreted, the trigger for instance. Bringing the weapon up near his face to see what he was doing, Spock experimentally clicked several settings and caught his breath when a blue light came on unexpectedly.

The blaster was charged! The thing was still operational! He wondered how Su'a could possibly have missed that fact. Perhaps it had been drained when he acquired it and the battery pack had partially recharged over the time it had been lying dormant here in the storeroom.

Su'a definitely was not getting this back, Spock decided, and stuck it in the waistband of his pants. Then he caught up the clothing and his weapons and started back out of the storeroom. The steel Romulan knife had to be around here somewhere. He'd tear the altar down if there was evidence of a hidden chamber there.

He had just stepped back into the altar room and straightened up when a sharp point stabbed him in the side.

"I believe you are looking for this," Su'a's high, hard voice said directly behind him.

Spock collected himself and deliberately stepped away from the priest, turning to face him. The ancient Lemurian was unadorned, his finery put away for the night. Instead, he looked tiny and defenseless, shrunken with age and deceptively weak. The Romulan knife in Su'a's hand seemed outsized, a grown-up's weapon in a child's grip.

Spock was not fooled by the illusion. He knew the strength of will that resided in the small, furred body and the power of his intellect.

"Indeed I am," he calmly answered. "Thank you for finding it for me." He held out his hand, palm up.

Su'a laughed harshly. "There are no games here, Spock. Your treachery has cost you dear. You may have helped your mate and spawn escape but you will take their place on the Mother's lap. She cries out for vengeance on the desecrators of her house." He motioned with the tip of the knife toward the altar.

Spock did not move. "You do not actually expect me to simply lie down and be sacrificed, do you?"

"You do not have a choice here," Su'a answered. His large golden eyes grew larger and he fixed his intent gaze on Spock's face, his pupils dilating.

Spock abruptly felt a tug, as if a line attached to his middle had tightened, pulling him forward. He fought it, standing his ground, but the tugging increased. His right foot came forward of its own accord, then his left.

"No!" he stated, refusing to comply.

"Obey the will of the Mother!" Su'a commanded, his eyes growing huger.

"I ... will ... not!" Spock closed his eyes and asserted a mighty effort.

For a moment, there was stalemate, then Spock jerked free of Su'a's influence. He fell back from the momentum of the almost palpable power surge as the Lemurian's hold on him snapped. Time seemed to halt as the two adversaries stared at one another, breathing hard, then Su'a straightened his slight frame. "Very good," he said. "I would have been disappointed if you were that easily controlled."

"I'm flattered," Spock answered, not in the least amused.

"However, you will be sacrificed to the Mother in payment for the chaos you have caused." The priest's eyes glittered in the lamplight. "I should have been a better judge of your character in the beginning and added your hide to those two invaders." He gestured toward the displayed Romulan skins.

"I'm curious," Spock retorted in an almost conversational manner. "What happened here? When did you kill these men?"

"They came five year turnings ago," the old priest replied, still staring hard at the Vulcan. "They said they came looking for those like them but we had never seen such creatures. I realize now that they were looking for you, Spock. 'A tall man like me,' the leader said. Probably with a female with yellow hair."

"Did they say why they were looking for us?" Spock's sense of alarm was jangling at this news.

Su'a shrugged. "The leader said he'd left you here some years before. He said he had come to see if you were alive."

Spock's gaze jerked up to the spread-eagled Romulan hides tacked to the wall. "Tal!" he whispered to himself, his throat suddenly dry.

"Ah, so you do know him," Su'a responded with a smirk. "Then you will be most happy to join him."

The Vulcan had recovered himself and now stared hard down at the smaller being. "I have no intention of joining him. Indeed, the time has come for this madness to end."

"Indeed it has," the priest answered and stepped forward. "You and your barbaric friends are tearing this village apart. I have called all available warriors and hunters to stop this savage attack! You and your so-called friends will be destroyed!"

"I think it will be just the opposite," Spock answered with cold determination. "And right now!" With blinding speed, the Vulcan lunged at the little Lemurian, his right hand already going for the knife.

The next instant, Spock found himself across the room, crumbled against the wall, his vision slowly beginning to focus once more. Su'a stood unharmed, regarding him calmly. Spock had managed to slap the knife from the priest's hand but had otherwise left him untouched.

"You see, I truly do not need the sky knife," Su'a told him mildly, almost compassionately. "But it would have been easier on both of us. Now we will both be forced to endure a pointless and exhausting duel of wills."

Spock got to his feet, his right hand still tingling from the psychic energy burst. His thoughts whirled frantically, flipping through and past options at warp speed, deciding his next action. At lightning pace, he tested and rejected scenarios, always returning to the same two facts -- one, that Su'a was too powerful to ffight conventionally and, two, that Spock didn't have the luxury of time. He had wasted too much of it already.

It took him a nanosecond to reach his conclusion. Rising to his full height, he faced the ancient priest and stated harshly, "I do not need the sky knife either, Su'a." And with that he pulled the Romulan blaster from his belt and fired point blank at the startled Teeli.

The blinding energy blast slammed the Lemurian backwards with the force of a photon explosion, its heat corona spitting fire over the damaged Romulan weapon and Spock's clutching hand. The Vulcan cried out at the blossom of fire and dropped the blaster, its casing nearly white hot from the backwash. An instant later, the cushion onto which it had dropped caught fire and the flames leaped as if alive, feeding on the dusty artifacts that filled the room.

Spock fell back toward the door, peering through the blaze to search for Su'a. And then he saw him. As if by design, the priest was lying limply across the lap of the Goddess altar where the blast had blown him, now motionless, head and limbs hanging bonelessly, blood dripping from his mouth. If he were still alive, there was no sign of it and Spock could not think of a more fitting end for the blood-thirsty priest than to be sacrificed on his own altar.

The flames were spreading rapidly around the room and Spock quickly found and snatched up his weapons, slipping the Romulan hunting knife safely into its sheath at his waist. Then he turned and ran from the roaring pyre behind him as draperies, pelts and grisly trophies all began to ignite, adding to the inferno. The Romulan clothing and blaster were lost to the conflagration, as if they had never existed.

Outside, the night air slapped him in the face with cold and the stench of burning. The noise was almost physical as well, the din of combat engulfing him. Spock plunged back into the chaos of battling forces. In the darkness and flaring firelight, it was hard to distinguish Teeli from Teela'u, but the Teeli had no trouble identifying him. Repeatedly, he was attacked and finally had no choice but to defend himself as savagely as he was being assaulted.

Abruptly, Teela'u were fighting at his side and Spock became aware that their number had swelled to almost double. There were more than males there, too. Females and older children were battling fiercely, along with elderly Teela'u. Spock realized suddenly who they were -- the enslaved people the warriors had come to save! And in the midst of the group, he suddenly recognized the old shaman, Char-eek, and his young daughter, Picku, battling their way out of the dwindling forces of Teeli soldiers.

A Teela'u male gave a wild hoot that cut through the noise and motioned for them all to begin moving. The fighters and rescued captives began to edge away, finishing the battle as they went. It took a long time to make their way through the village toward the gate, fighting off attackers as they went, but at long last they were there. With a final surge of combat that destroyed the last Teeli defenders, the Teela'u war party and freed slaves burst through into the darkness outside the village walls and scattered into the night, their triumphant cries and whoops echoing over the burning village.

Spock ran along with them, not knowing exactly where he was going and now beginning to wonder where Christine had taken the children. Unable to penetrate the deep darkness, he slowed to a trot, then a walk as the bodies continued to rush past him. Finally, he stopped, trying to get his bearings, opening his bond with Christine to try and locate her.

He felt her glad pulse of recognition and was flooded with sudden emotion. Quickly, he damped them down, searching, but the air was filled with passionate emotions as the liberated Teela'u grieved, cheered, wept, screamed in anger and anguish, celebrated in raucous joy all around him. It was too overwhelming. He couldn't locate his wife.

Then he felt a furry hand on him arm and a familiar voice. It was Fala'qan, bloodied, but in good spirits. //Come ... I'll take you to your mate and young. They are not far now.// With that, he hurried away, Spock barely keeping up with him as they ran on into the night.

* * *

The faintest hint of dawn had turned the eastern horizon just visible when they reached the rocky hills that had been their destination. Spock stumbled and caught himself, then abruptly knew the way. He could feel her there ahead of him, her presence like a beacon in the darkness. Scrambling up the rocky slope, he called almost frantically through their bond. Christine!

"Spock!"

Her voice came from just up ahead of him, liquid with hope and relief. Then Christine was in his arms, kissing him again and again as tears streamed down her face. Hugging him fiercely, she tasted the blood and soot on his cheeks but didn't care. He was back with her! He had returned alive!

A smaller body launched itself at him and clung tight. "Papa! Papa!" Sapel wept, too, and Spock gathered both of them close against him, scarcely believing that they were real.

"The baby..." he managed.

"She's asleep," Christine answered, pulling back and wiping her face with the heel of one hand. "She's safe."

All around them, similar reunions were going on. As the sky lightened, they could make out reunited families ... Juk'jee'ch'kan frantically embracing her returned son, Chuk'wu'jok'won ... two of Char-eek's younger wives scrambling to nuzzle and lick his old, scarred face ... Picku'acka'neech, P'Kan'u'lok and several other juvenile Teela'u rolling in a tangled ball of limbs and tails...

But there was sorrow evident, too. Many of the captives and warriors had not returned. Others were being carried in, wounded in various degrees of severity. Some would not survive the day, more would take many weeks to heal. All were tired, hungry and desperately thirsty.

Christine realized this as well and hurried to find a water bag. Spock accepted it gratefully and drank for a long time, the cool water both refreshing him and making him aware of his bone-deep weariness. It was hard to believe that only a night had passed. It seemed like days ... weeks... The odd telescoping of time during battle had never affected him so much before, but then the battles he had fought in Starfleet weren't like this one. They had never been on such a personal level.

Fala'qan approached him and laid a hand on Spock's arm to facilitate telepathic talk. //I am pleased, S'pq'. Joy to your mate and little ones.//

The warrior's demeanor was one of utter fatigue, though, and Spock could see now in the daylight that his creamy fur was matted with blood and dirt. His large golden eyes were alert but dulled with exhaustion and sorrow. Spock understood more through the link than Fala'qan had said.

//Fala'qan ... you have lost...?//

The Lemurian looked away then back. //My own mate ... gone. Our pouchling, too.//

Grief flooded through Spock and it was immediately transmitted to the war leader. For a long moment, they shared in that emotion, then Fala'qan straightened with the determination of one who has still another battle to fight. //We rest a little bit now, then we go on. We still must return to our village to salvage what we can and say the Prayer for the dead.//

//I will go there, too,// Spock said.

The Teela'u gazed up at him as if set to argue, but then acquiesced. //You have right, too,// he answered. //But first eat and rest. We leave at high sun.//

* * *

Spock did not sleep as he waited for the war party to depart. Instead, after eating, he sat in loshorak position in the shade of a spreading tree, his long legs comfortably crossed, and meditated for several hours. He found it more soothing than slumber, for it helped him center himself and sort out his racing emotions. There was much to identify and conquer, for the preceding hours had been filled with the kind of savagery and excess that he had seldom experienced as a Vulcan. Conscious of his family once again nearby, Spock allowed himself to sink into the state of arivne, bringing all that he was into unity.

As noon approached, he became aware of increased movement about the camp and opened his eyes, going through the series of stretching exercises that concluded meditation. Christine saw him "wake" and squatted down in front of him, her long hair disheveled and her features pale with stress. Still clad only in her night dress and the rags wrapped around her feet, she watched him as if she could not get enough of his craggy countenance.

"You're going with them then?" she asked faintly.

"I have to," he answered in a soft, deep voice, reaching to trail two fingers down her cheek. She clasped them and pressed his hand harder against her face. "All our things are there, including the phasers. I must retrieve those."

"I don't know if I can bear you leaving me again," she sighed, her blue eyes swimming with unshed tears.

"T'hy'la..." he whispered and took her face between both of his hands. "It won't take long ... and I cannot leave them there."

"I know." Christine squeezed her eyes shut and two tears slid from beneath her lashes, tracking down to the corners of her mouth. "Oh, I wish this were over!"

"Soon, my beloved," he said softly, wiping her tears away. "Very soon."

Spock stood and pulled her to her feet, enfolding her in a heart-felt embrace. They stood holding one another for several minutes then he stepped away from her. "It is time," he said.

She nodded. Across the clearing of their wooded glade, the others were taking up their weapons and saying their own farewells.

Sapel came running up, followed closely by Charlie and Picku. The old Lemurian was moving slowly and with obvious pain. He clutched Spock's arm as he came close.

//I won't be going,// he said mentally. //Not make it so far.//

//You are right to stay here, my friend,// Spock told him.

//I should go ... to say the Prayer,// Char-eek responded, his regret obvious. He was the patriarch of the clan. It was his place to say the rite over his kin. But he had been wounded in the melee of the escape and was scarcely able to hobble around the camp. He wouldn't survive the journey back to his home.

Spock glanced away from him as Christine stepped up, hoisting T'Jenn onto her shoulder, Sapel close behind her, his dark eyes locked on his father, his fear terribly obvious. Abruptly, Spock turned back to the elderly healer. //Watch over my family until I return,// he said. //Make them as your own.//

Charlie gazed silently up at the tall Vulcan for a moment then assured him, //I will guard them until you return.//

Spock sent him gratitude and thanks, along with his determination to make it back alive. With that, Char-eek moved on to other members of his own family. As he did, Spock took his wife in his arms and kissed her long and hard, then he caressed his baby daughter's head and sent warming thoughts to her. T'Jenn gurgled happily as he did so, showing her pair of little teeth in a drooly grin.

Spock's throat tightened and he turned to gaze at his son. The boy was growing tall now, his lean Vulcan heritage evident in his lankiness, but there was a vulnerability about him that one never saw in Vulcan children. It was trained out of them at an early age. Spock suddenly saw in Sapel the boy that he was never allowed to be ... trusting, generous, his heart proverbially on his sleeve. His son was looking at him now with mixed hope and fear and love, desperately afraid that his father would not return from this journey.

On impulse, Spock reached out and laid his hand on Sapel's dark head, answering his fears with a touch that was almost a blessing. Sapel blinked and then smiled tentatively. "Watch over your mother," Spock instructed him softly.

The boy nodded, unable to speak. Then Spock exchanged one long last look with Christine, his eyes saying more than he could possibly speak, then he turned and was gone.

* * *

Spock was gone for a full day. It was not until well after midday the following afternoon that he and the Teela'u warriors came trudging back into camp, each heavily laden with all they could salvage. Spock carried their packs and bedrolls and an expression as grim as Christine had ever seen him wear.

Cradling the baby, she came to meet him along with Sapel and embraced him one-armed, T'Jenn between them. There was a squawk from his mid-section and they quickly drew apart, Christine looking startled. "What the--?"

A little golden head with huge tufted black ears popped up from inside Spock's shirt.

"Scruffy!" shouted Sapel and quickly retrieved his pet hunting cat from his father's care. The cat ecstatically burrowed under her young master's chin, purring and chirping loudly in her happiness at being reunited.

"Oh, I'm so glad you found her," Christine smiled as she watched her son cuddle his pet. Spock nodded but had yet to say anything, his face still set in its stone-hard expression. "Bad?" she asked softly.

His eyes unfocused slightly as he relived what he had witnessed in the ruined village. Swallowing, Spock took a deep breath and nodded. "Worse than I expected." For a moment, he seemed to fight for control, then blinked and looked down at his wife. "I thank my Ancestors and the God of your people that you were taken away quickly from there. It was ... unspeakable."

Christine paled and felt tears fill her eyes. "How many--"

Abruptly Spock grimaced. "Do not ask me!" he snapped. "I cannot speak of it!" He paused and his voice softened. "Not yet." Again he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then looked back at her, more his normal self. "We burned hundreds of bodies last night and Fala'qan said the Prayer over them. It was a terrible job. Especially when we found his ... his mate."

Spock's voice choked and it took him another minute to compose himself. "I retrieved all of our things. They had not been disturbed. I suspect that the Teeli were only interested in killing or taking slaves. They did not want any of the goods or weapons there."

He let the faintest hint of a smile touch one corner of his mouth. "I got your clothing and shoes. You can change."

"Thank God!" she answered, her eyes brightening at the prospect. "Where--"

Spock doffed his heavy load and very nearly groaned with relief. As Christine began to stood to look through the big pack, Spock said, "Here" and took T'Jenn from her.

For a moment, Christine was occupied with retrieving her clothes and moccasins, then silently caught her breath as she saw the way her husband was standing. He had his baby girl cradled tight against his shoulder, his big hands spread beneath her bottom and across her back, his face pressed against her soft brown hair, eyes closed as if praying. Christine didn't dare move, lest she break the spell, then Spock seemed to sense her watching him, for he opened his eyes and gazed solemnly back at her.

"Go and change," he said in almost a whisper. "We're going."

She nodded and moved away to an outcropping of bushes where she could don her leather shirt and leggings and change her loincloth. She was still menstruating and took the opportunity to refresh her absorbent padding and secure it with her leather breech clout.

Feeling better, she returned to find Spock talking with Charlie and Fala'qan. To one side, Sapel and Picku were conversing, Scruffy still clutched in his arms. Spock continued to hold T'Jenn against his shoulder, while she crammed a little fist into her mouth and stared wide-eyed at the two Lemurians.

As Christine joined them, Spock was saying, "I cannot express my regret at the events since we joined you. I feel responsible for all that has happened."

As she stepped close and pressed against her husband, Charlie's answer transmitted to her as well. //Not so, friend Spock,// the old Lemurian replied. //The war with Teeli is old. They would come anyway.//

"Still ... my son--"

//My sons, too,// Charlie responded. //Chuk'wu'jok'won took them there. P'Kan'u'lok followed as well as Picku'acka'neech. I am more at blame than you.//

Spock accepted it and absently rubbed his hand across T'Jenn's back, noting the feathery softness of the infant's skin. "Then we will leave you and wish you well. But I shall grieve long for thee, my good friend."

As the adults spoke, Picku let her long fingers play along Sapel's arm. //We were foolish,// she said, her mental voice awash with sorrow.

//What will you do now?// he asked.

//Go into the hills,// she replied. //Run. Fight. Run again.//

The boy's dark eyes held her golden ones. //Will they try to find you?//

//Of course. They are our enemies. We are theirs. They will be coming after us once they grieve their dead. You must go far away, too.//

Sapel's heart thudded as he envisioned the danger his friend was under. //I don't want anything to happen to you,// he ventured.

Her eyes flashed and he felt her sudden anger. //It happens to us always. It is the way of things.//

He pulled back a little. //Will I see you again?// he asked.

Picku's stance softened. //Only the spirits can tell. Perhaps...//

Sapel's attention was drawn to his father. Spock had handed T'Jenn back to Christine and had divided the pack loads into three sets. He was shrugging into his, the largest, then took the baby back as Christine wriggled her backpack into place. Then she took T'Jenn and placed her into the carrying sling across her front.

"Sapel," Spock called. "It is time that we left. Say your goodbyes and come get your pack on."

Realizing that this might be the last time he saw his companion, Sapel turned quickly back and grasped Picku's arm. "I hope we meet again," he said earnestly. "You are the only friend I've ever had."

//I think we may find each other again,// she answered. //I don't know when but I will keep hope for you.//

//You, too!//

Picku suddenly seized Sapel's face between her hands and smashed her nose against his for a second, then licked his mouth with a quick dart of her tongue. //Be well!// she said and then fled, disappearing into the camp.

Stunned, the boy stood motionless then dropped Scruff to the ground and went to get into his travel gear, his mind whirling at the turn of events. There was an ache within him that he did not know how to identify, but he felt certain that it was the emptiness within him that Picku's departure had left.

His parents were saying their farewells to Char-eek and Fala'qan.

"What now?" Christine was asking.

Fala'qan touched her arm. //We are warriors. We will continue to strike at them to the last of us. We will not forget our dead ones.//

She gripped his shoulder and sent, //I will not forget you ... or your people. Ever.//

The Teela'u warrior bent his head and then walked away. Christine then turned and embraced Charlie, awkwardly because of her load and their height difference. //Thank you, dear friend. You will always be in my heart and mind.//

The old Lemurian did not answer except to convey feelings of warmth to her. He did the same to Spock, then turned and hobbled painfully away. Spock exhaled a sigh and said, "We will go as well."

With that, he headed out of camp, north into the hills that rose up before them. Christine and Sapel fell into step, Scruff tagging along behind. It didn't take them long to leave the Teela'u encampment behind. The Lemurians too would have moved on by night fall. For an hour, the family walked steadily, following the slope of the climbing hills up onto the plateau-land that stretched away to the horizon, snow-capped mountains just visible.

Eventually, Spock slowed his pace a bit, aware that his wife and son could not keep up with his long-legged stride. Walking at an easier gait, he allowed Christine and Sapel to draw up alongside him, but kept them moving.

They walked in silence for a while, Spock's gaze straight ahead, his face slowly settling into one of grim resolve. His brows bunched together in a frown, he seemed to be gathering his thoughts and disliking them more with every step he took. His teeth were clamped together and his breathing was faster than even his determined pace could account for. Finally Spock said, "Sapel."

"Yes, sir?"

Spock did not turn his eyes away from the route ahead. "What you did was foolish and costly."

"Spock--" Christine began imploringly.

"Quiet, wife!" he interrupted sharply in a tone that warned she must not usurp his authority here. "Do you understand that?" he continued, addressing his son.

"Yes, sir," the boy answered meekly.

"Many died because of your participation. I do not want you to forget that."

"No, sir." Sapel had paled and looked to be on the verge of tears.

Christine tried again. "Spock, he's just a boy--"

"Christine, I ask that you not interrupt me again!" There was such controlled anger in Spock's voice that her heart seized up. Spock returned his attention to his son. "You are old enough to know that your actions have consequences and that bravery and fool-hardiness often appear the same at first. You must discern one from the other."

"Yes, sir," Sapel answered softly.

"There is nothing I can do that would punish you adequately for your part in this. Therefore, I leave that to you. You will meditate each night and make your own peace with the souls of those who died. I do not know how long that will take. That is between you and them now."

"Yes, sir." Sapel's voice was barely audible and he fell back to trail behind his parents.

"That was harsh," Christine commented in a soft, hard voice, glaring at her husband.

"Hundreds are dead," Spock answered icily. "Would you have me tell him that everything is all right and he is guiltless in their deaths?"

"But he's just a child, Spock."

"No. He is not. He has passed his kahs'wan and in Vulcan society would begin to accept adult responsibilities."

"This isn't Vulcan," she shot back at him, her face darkening with fury.

Spock glanced at her sharply and it was clear that he had no intention of backing down from his position. "Indeed it is not. It is an even harsher environment that is forcing him to grow up faster than he normally would. I regret that you cannot coddle him and keep him an infant, but that is the way things are." Seeing the obstinate set of her jawline, he went on in an exasperated tone, "He could have been killed, Christine. We all could have been killed! Can you not comprehend the seriousness of that?"

Her eyes were stinging with bitter tears. "Don't you dare speak to me like that, Spock cha'Sarek!" she ground out. "Don't you ever speak to me like that!"

"Then perhaps we should say no more about it," he responded in a like tone and clammed up, his step picking up a bit so that he pulled ahead of her.

"Where are we going anyway?" she demanded of his stiff back.

Spock's voice was controlled as he answered, but filled with the turmoil and anger within him. "As far away from here as possible," he responded. "A very long way away from here!"

END OF PART EIGHT