[A.N. I know it's clunky. I'm sorry. But I'm running out of inspiration. This is probably the penultimate chapter.]

14

'Jim, we've got trouble,' McCoy said, straightening up from his scanners with a concerned look on his face.

Kirk came to his side instantly, leaning in to look at the readings, but to the non-medical eye the spikes and waves on the screen were gibberish.

'What is it, Bones?' he asked quickly.

'Well, I haven't pinpointed Spock yet – but I have got this,' he said pointedly, touching his finger to a certain set of readings. 'Vulcan readings are considerably more like human – especially when we're talking Spock. But Ney'roni'i...'

'We've still got Ney'roni'i people down there?' Kirk asked, frustration rising in his chest.

'Well, it was never certain we'd got all of them, Jim,' McCoy reminded him. 'Yes. There are still three down there. I don't know if there are more.'

'They tend to travel in even numbers,' Kirk said, rubbing his finger across his lip. 'If that's all of them that would make eight in total.' He nodded slowly. 'All right, Bones. Keep scanning. Scan the whole damn planet if you have to – but find Spock. As soon as you've got him, pass on the job of scanning to someone else, and we'll ready that shuttlecraft.'

'You don't think we should go straight down for the Ney'roni'i I've picked up?' McCoy asked.

Kirk shook his head. 'Not yet. Search close to them. They're probably looking for Spock too, and they might have better luck since they're in closer proximity to him.'

'All right, Jim,' McCoy nodded.

'Well, I might go and see how our guest is doing,' Kirk sighed, turning away from the console. 'Call me if – '

'Jim.'

The tone in McCoy's voice made him turn back instantly.

'What is it, Bones?' he asked.

'Don't start getting too friendly with her,' he said pointedly.

'I'm not going to tell her anything, Bones,' Kirk said in dismissal. 'I do know the Prime Directive as it relates to time travel, you know.'

'It's not that, Jim,' McCoy told him. 'It's just – you'd be hitting on your great-great-however-many-times-great-grandma.'

Kirk reeled. 'Just because she's got the same surname,' he began.

'Oh, she's got more than that, Jim,' McCoy said with a smile. 'She's got the same DNA. You know the transporter automatically makes a record of the body make-up. Well, I took a look at it, just to see whose future we might affect by having her here. Turns out, it's yours.'

Kirk whistled slowly, bringing the appearance of Elsie Kirk back into his mind and putting alongside it that blurred, age-spotted photograph that he had shown to Spock what seemed like weeks ago. It was hard to reconcile that photograph with the real, colour version of the woman that he had seen.

'I didn't know her name,' he said slowly.

'Well, maybe not,' McCoy said, 'but Spock certainly remembered the details you'd told him, and you know how the gateway works, don't you? You have to concentrate on a specific time and it sends you there. God knows why he chose that time, but he did, and that's where he ended up. So, I repeated, don't go getting too friendly. That's your future she's holding – and your past, too.'

Jim blew out air between his lips, slightly staggered by the thought of the history that he had run into. How many people had the chance to meet their distant ancestors? There were so many questions he could ask her, so many things to find out. But McCoy was right. He had to act with extreme care, in case he managed to erase his own existence and affect not just his own life, but thousands of others too.

He tapped his finger distractedly on the console. 'Find Spock, Bones,' he said. 'The sooner the better. We need to get Elsie back home and all contaminants out of this time, and we need to do it now.'

''''''''''''''''''''

Some hours later Spock was sat in a small, unlocked shed in what appeared to be a communal area of vegetable gardens. A sign at the entrance had proclaimed it to be East Hindley Allotments. His hands were still cuffed before him, but he had scavenged a few vegetables from the plots around and had made himself a fresh, if earthy, meal. He sat contemplating his bound hands as he slowly took bites from a rather straggly carrot, wondering in another part of his mind what McCoy would say if he saw him. No doubt he would have some pithy reference to popular culture to pull out of his mind. But no matter. He had little choice but to steal raw food, and perhaps the absence of McCoy was a blessing.

It was early evening by now, and thankfully the plots were largely empty, although he had seen a few men and women tending their patches, perhaps taking the chance after a day of work. He would have to be very careful not to be seen, but perhaps when night fell he could move out of his shelter and try again to find somewhere with tools for him to free his hands. There must be suitable equipment somewhere in this city.

His attention sharpened as he heard a small noise outside. He moved a little closer to the door and looked out cautiously, concerned that the shed owner might be outside. There was no one in the patches nearby, though. The closest people he could see were about twenty yards away. But he had definitely heard a noise. Perhaps there was some small rodent about here. Perhaps a cat or dog in search of such rodents... He put his head out a little further. Cats would not bother him, but –

Something struck him abruptly over the back of the head and he dropped to the ground, consciousness fragmenting into a blurred half-awareness. Then he caught the sound of a some kind of pulse and a light seemed to expand inside his chest, pushing with the swiftness of pure energy up into his head and sending him into nothingness...

...

...and he woke in semi-darkness in a place that smelt of mildew and damp, the floor hard beneath him. He moved experimentally. His hands were still cuffed. His ankle was still injured, only now he had another blow to the head to add to that, and the aching of his ribs and back from lying on an uncomfortably uneven surface.

'So, it wakes up,' said a voice.

Spock blinked, raising his cuffed hands to wipe what seemed to be a mixture of blood and dirt from the side of his face.

'Where is the device?' the voice asked.

Spock blinked again, trying to see in the darkness. The Ney'roni'i, he knew, had better night vision than he did. Possibly his captor could see him perfectly well.

'I don't have the device,' he said flatly.

He could only assume that the device was, along with Elsie, on the Enterprise. That thought was a great relief. The Ney'roni'i could do what they liked to him, but they would get re-acquire the device and they would not hurt Jim's ancestor.

He closed his eyes and listened, trying to make out if he could hear the sounds of more than one alien in the room with him. It was very hard to tell. Although the Ney'roni'i presented as humanoid, their looks were very deceptive. They were chameleon-like, mimicking those around them, and on their home planet they had looked far less like the inhabitants of this world. Even gender was a blurred issue on Ney'ron.

'Then where is the device?' the voice repeated, a hard edge to the words.

'I do not know,' he said. He could not possibly know.

Something that may have been a boot impacted against his ribs, and he grunted, automatically bringing disciplines to bear to quell the pain. Then there was the sound of feet moving away and a low conversation set up in what must be the Ney'roni'i language. Spock frowned. The internal translator embedded just behind his ear should be making sense of what they said. They must be using some kind of suppression device. He didn't like not being able to understand. He had, at least, gleaned that there was more than one of the aliens in this room with him. He thought that he could make out three distinct voices.

The footsteps moved back, accompanied by another pair.

'Where is the rest of our team?' the original voice asked.

Spock shook his head. 'I do not know,' he said, but he could surmise a little. It was very possible, if they had fallen out of touch with their cohorts, that they had been beamed up when Elsie had been transported to the Enterprise. He could not think of another reason why they would have disappeared. The Ney'roni'i were certainly more than equal to early twentieth century Earth technology.

He tried again at forcing the cuffs he wore apart, but he was no more able to force the metal now, in the darkness of this room, than he had been earlier. He gave that up and tried to sit up a little, but the exhaustion of something like phaser stun was still permeating his body. For now, it seemed, he was quite helpless. He was beginning to feel that he had had as much of the twentieth century as he could stand.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

It was a risky business taking a shuttle down into Earth's atmosphere, even while night was cloaking it from sight. Kirk elected to fly the craft himself, with McCoy and a handful of security guards to back him up. Elsie was safely aboard the Enterprise. It wasn't worth the risk of exposing her to a possible conflict between the Starfleet men and the three Ney'roni'i people that McCoy had picked up on sensors. It was impossible to land near the readings, so Kirk had left the shuttle in some kind of goods yard some distance away, covered by a large cloth and under the care of one guard, dressed as a period policeman.

The streets were empty as they moved closer to the readings, McCoy with his tricorder held open but shielded carefully under the hat that he carried.

'You've got them, Bones?' he murmured, and McCoy nodded.

'Three Ney'roni'i, and Spock, still all in the same location,' he said. 'They haven't moved for a good few hours.'

Kirk nodded briefly.

'Come on. Let's pick up the pace,' he said, looking behind him at his security team which were all dressed as police officers. 'Spock may be hurt.'

'His readings are stable,' McCoy told him, but all the same he sped up too. 'Left here,' he murmured, and they turned down a side street. 'In here, Jim,' he said, nodding towards stairs that were built down from the level of the road into some kind of cellar.

'Phasers out,' Kirk said swiftly to the security men. 'I want you to stun on sight.'

'Mr Spock – ' one of the men behind began.

Kirk nodded. 'Stun him too if needs be. It's important that we get all of the alien hostiles. Spock understands that.'

The man nodded, and turned to his team. 'You heard your orders, men. Fall in behind me.'

The guard stepped down to the door and pressed the nozzle of his phaser to the lock, using a quick, high-intensity beam to melt the metal to vapour. The door swung inwards, and instantly the darkness inside was lit by phaser beams lashing out across the room. There was a number of dull thuds, and Kirk shone a flashlight into the room to reveal three unconscious bodies on the floor, and Spock lying next to the farthest wall, raising an eyebrow enquiringly. He had escaped the stun beams due to being below their level.

'Spock, it's good to see you,' Kirk grinned, elation pushing through his body.

'Likewise,' Spock said smoothly, shuffling himself up to a sitting position. He held out his hands and the captain saw that they were cuffed with antiquated metal handcuffs. 'Captain, could you?'

'Spock, aren't you even going to say thank you?' McCoy asked irritably, pushing past the security men in to the room.

Spock inclined his head gracefully as Kirk used a focussed phaser beam to cut the cuffs apart.

'Why, thank you, doctor,' he said smoothly. 'It is always reassuring to see you at the back of the party.'

McCoy muttered, seeming unable to tell if he had just been insulted or not. Kirk laughed.

'Everything's back to normal, I see,' he said. 'Spock, we'll have to leave those bracelets until we're back on the ship – I don' t want to risk burning you – but at least they're apart. Can you walk?'

Spock pushed himself to his feet, looking dishevelled and rather unsteady.

'I am quite able to walk,' he nodded.

'Then let's get out of here,' Kirk said fervently. 'Carry those three, men,' he said to his security team. 'Spock, you need help. You're limping.'

Spock glanced at McCoy, who was thrusting his medical tricorder towards him.

'A quite minor injury,' he said. 'But I thank you for your support, Captain.'

Kirk grinned. 'All right, Spock. Let's get you home.'