Over the course of Enterprise's voyage I'd had considerable experience of being a visitor in an alien society.

That helped me a great deal as I walked into the crowded acha-we, if only by the familiarity of the flutter of apprehension in my guts at the company I now found myself in. No matter how seemingly harmless, friendly and welcoming any new species might be, I was always on edge, always waiting for the trapdoor to open. That – however irksome I know it was to Captain Archer – was my job. I wasn't there to indulge in socialising, no matter what the occasion. I was there to protect him, and bloody hell, sometimes it was something I achieved in spite of him rather than thanks to his co-operation….

Still, one good thing about my days as the ship's security officer was that I was nearly always doing exactly that when we made contact – protecting somebody who was of far more interest to the aforementioned aliens than I was. It therefore followed that I wasn't the centre of attention, and that was exactly the way I liked it.

This was not, unfortunately, the case on that particular evening. I was centre stage with a vengeance, and couldn't help but be aware of how many eyes took an interest in even what I put on my platter. I hadn't been that hungry to begin with, and I know of old that a full stomach makes reactions slow, so even if I'd been famished I'd have rationed myself. Now, however, I was so tense with the awareness of dozens of fascinated stares that I could hardly bring myself to put a slice of meat near my mouth.

At least I'd found out that the Court Martial wouldn't be convened that night. I'd sort of envisioned it taking place at some point after the feasting, but Atreh said something along the lines of ale turning wise men into fools, and I suppose he had a point. I'd like to think that if I'd had one or two fewer Mai Tais on Risa I'd have known better than to follow even two delectable female aliens into a cellar…

Two other Tribe Lords had come to confer with Briai; I suppose they were the nearest, because as best I could get some estimate of the land where the People live, it must be absolutely huge, probably at least half the size of Europe. The three of them were sitting together, on camp-chairs (presumably this was some indication of their status specially for the occasion, because usually Briai sat with the rest on cushions on the ground).

The two visiting chiefs didn't feel themselves obliged to keep their eyes politely away from me either. They were both older than Briai. Thais, the oldest of the three, was a little, lively, bright-eyed chap who looked as though he might at any moment open his fur jacket and offer to sell you one of a few dozen fake watches pinned on the inside of it, cheap at twice the price. The middle-aged one, Rakhor, had the flat, unemotional stare of a plaice, and was almost as ugly as one.

If it hadn't been for Atreh and Bihiv, I don't think I could have stayed in there for longer than five minutes. I don't know if the two of them realised the depth of its effect on me. Probably not – they belonged here. But to me, a stranger and an alien who was so clearly distrusted, the pressure of so many eyes was just … utterly oppressive, filling me with something akin to panic.

I knew that I was actually perfectly safe, probably more so than I would have been anywhere else; even if I'd been a convicted serial killer, violence is forbidden in any village's acha-we. But that didn't conquer what soon became almost a compulsion to escape, and probably it was only due to the hard discipline of my upbringing that I was able to endure what I'd otherwise have fled from.

My two friends – it was no longer possible for me to think of them in any other terms – sat on either side of me as though by pre-arrangement, protecting me as best they could from the weight of attention. Slowly I forced myself to relax and join in their careful conversation. They were taking a proprietary interest in my progress in handling a sword, and thought it might help me to take on another of the warriors in a practice bout. Personally I was dubious as to whether I was ready for that yet, but Atreh insisted that it was important I learn to cope with different styles of attack, and there were others among the warriors whom he thought would be willing to help out with my tutoring.

The evening wore on. I finished my meal – such as it was – and presently Bihiv brought over one of the older men, a pleasant-looking chap whom he introduced as Orran. I won't say our initial conversation wasn't guarded as well as stilted, but I'd seen him watching me during my training and thought he was genuinely interested in how I was shaping up. Even despite my limited vocabulary, he seemed to understand that I was a weapons enthusiast; swordplay was a new field for me, and like any weapon it has its own expertise. Gradually the sensation of being under observation faded away, and the four of us settled down to what promised to be an enjoyable evening's drinking; swords are forbidden in the acha-we, even practice ones, but Orran promised to join Atreh in teaching me the next day, and slowly a feeling that was almost companionable stole over me.

Now the meal was over, the women were allowed to join us, and there was no mistaking the way that the atmosphere changed. It seems that boys will be boys on any world, but the women gave every bit as good as they got. Naturally I didn't understand more than one word in ten, but certainly the women who came to visit knew what they'd be getting into and were more than prepared for it. If I'm honest it was somewhat of a revelation how sassy some of them clearly were. That it wasn't just empty bravado soon became clear when one lucky chap was the recipient of a very specific form of the glad eye from one of the ladies, and followed her from the tent wearing the look of a man who's expecting to enjoy the next few hours; needless to say, he was also the recipient of cheers and catcalls from the rest of us as he went. He was the first of a number to receive such an invitation, and I dived into the consolation of the bottle, trying not to feel the dull ache of envy. Jessa hadn't put in an appearance … I'd definitely overstepped the mark with her. It wasn't as if she'd ever given the slightest indication of finding me attractive; and then I'd had to jump in and kiss her right in front of everyone, showing about as much self-control as a bloody schoolboy.

Atreh and Bihiv joined in freely in the banter. I thought the former passed up a couple of opportunities, but Bihiv seemed to be the recipient of a lot of teasing and not much else. I wondered if there was some kind of 'age of consent' thing operating; he seemed easily old enough to be sexually active by now. Atreh, on the other hand, was considered one of the men, and as he was quite a good-looking bloke it was no surprise that he'd come in for his share of the slanting looks that evidently passed for an invitation in these parts, though he'd turned each of them away with a jest that seemed to rid the refusal of offence. I was honestly surprised he hadn't accepted any of them, and wondered if it was on my behalf – that he was reluctant to leave me with no better protection than Bihiv, although I was pretty sure by now that Briai wouldn't stand for any funny business with a guest.

Now, other people's romantic issues are not something I ordinarily get involved in; I'm the last person in the universe to be giving out advice on that topic. But it seemed to me that what was on offer here wasn't any hearts-and-violins stuff, and it seemed a damn shame for him to miss out on a bit of slap and tickle with a willing lass just because he thought I needed a watchdog. If needs be I'd just take myself back off to Jessa's tent and get an early night; I strongly suspected that the party would be going on till the early hours, and though I won't deny that occasionally on shore leave from Enterprise I'd got as pissed as a newt, that was only when I was reasonably sure I was in safe territory. Here, the knowledge weighed me down that I was a stranger, constantly under suspicion. I felt like a cat in a room full of dogs. Well-behaved dogs, admittedly, but should one of them turn….

I mustered the best shot I could manage at tactfully hinting that he should pick up the next invitation that came his way, and go shag his brains out with my blessing. I was just nerving myself to introduce it into the conversation when a sudden tension in his previously relaxed body made me look to see what had startled him.

A number of other ladies had entered, and though all of them were reasonably attractive and most were dressed to thrill, I doubt whether there were many male eyes in the room that weren't drawn to one of them like iron filings to a magnet. Being male like everyone else in my present company, I couldn't help but look too – and having looked, I went on looking.

Over the weeks I'd learned quite a few names around the camp, and by now I knew that the resident beauty's name was Makia. I also knew that it was her brothers who had tried to carry out that strictly unauthorised interview with me, and it followed that her attitude to me since had been understandable. Quite how she felt I was to blame for the fact that they'd acted like a pair of pricks, I'd never quite worked out, but family loyalty is something I understand. One of them was dead, the other awaiting trial, and none of it would have come about but for my arrival. So in that respect, it was never likely that she was going to be one of my best friends. If I'd have thought it would have done any good (and had enough confidence in my command of the language) I'd have tried to tell her that I hadn't come here of my own accord and that I was sorry for the trouble I'd inadvertently caused; I was sorry, genuinely sorry, because even if the two of them had been the cause of their own downfall, they hadn't been the only ones who'd suffered that day. If they hadn't been presented with a temptation they hadn't been able to resist, maybe the attack on the village would have been far less successful. Maybe the raiders wouldn't even have got near Syach, and the three men wouldn't have died; and the woman who'd lost her baby still went around the place with the grey look of defeat on her face….

I'm not sure what made me glance at Atreh. He'd looked at the women too, but he'd immediately looked down, and his face had frozen. Moments before he'd been laughing, but now he was like a man whose face had forgotten the mechanics of laughter.

The little knot of women dispersed, and were warmly welcomed of course. Particularly pressing invitations were extended to Makia, who appeared completely unconscious of the luscious spread of cleavage her dress exposed to view, and she disappeared into the throng, doubtless to choose some fortunate chap from among the visitors to summon for a more detailed viewing later on.

Leaving Atreh to recover from whatever emotion had him in its grip – I had an inkling by then of what it might be – I turned to Bihiv, intending to tease him about taking the initiative if any of the attractive newcomers happened to wander our way.

"Bloody hell." I'm afraid he'd learned a couple of English expressions of mine along the way, and that one never failed to fill me with guilty amusement when he came out with it. However, it didn't seem to me now that he'd said it in the jokey way he usually did. He was eyeing Atreh somewhat apprehensively, safe for the moment to do so as that angry young man had suddenly discovered he needed another drink and headed for the ale-barrel to get a refill.

I've mentioned before that anxiety was never far away from me, even when I was superficially relaxed. Hell, I did my best not to think about my situation more than I could help, because the sheer sense of helplessness was eating away at me; I've always preferred a situation where I can snatch the initiative somehow, whereas here there just seemed to be nothing I could do but wait – endlessly wait, for I knew not what; believing, sometimes even not far from praying, that somehow I'd get to find out how I'd got here and how I could get back to my own life again.

Orran rumbled something. He was looking at Atreh too.

I hate it when I'm the only one who doesn't know something that everyone else does. My anxiety ratcheted up another notch. From outside, I heard the sudden low mutter of distant thunder, which drew an instant response from the men; they all muttered 'Bracoo!' and took hasty gulps of whatever they were drinking. Maybe it was the local version of 'Cheers!' – I hadn't heard it before. Though why anyone should toast a clap of thunder, I couldn't imagine.

The wind had got up in the last half an hour, pummelling the tents, and now it was no surprise that a sudden slash of rain flung itself on the canvas overhead. More followed, until it was a steady drumming. I knew that bad weather had been anticipated; I'd seen the preparations being made, and hadn't envied the lads who'd drawn guard duty over the horse herd that night. Consequently, nobody seemed to mind all that much, though the thunder got slowly louder and every now and then a particularly brilliant flash of lightning dimmed the torches. People who live in such close proximity to Mother Nature as the tribes do must get pretty used to her more violent moods, and certainly there was no noticeable diminution of the cheerful mood in the Tent. A few more couples wandered off to seek privacy, spurred on by raucous applause. None of the women was Makia.

Gradually, Atreh relaxed.

I relaxed too. Bihiv produced a few small, beautifully carved pieces of bone that seemed to have some relation to dice, although they were more complicated because as far as I could tell their different faces didn't represent numbers but concepts. It was definitely a game that was hugely popular among the People, because when he, Atreh and Orran started playing they quickly gained an audience, and a few other people joined in. I still couldn't grasp what was going on, except that it involved telling funny stories, and between the rapidity of their speech and the explosions of laughter, I could hardly make out more than a word here and there. But it didn't seem to matter. Everyone was having a great time, and for once nobody seemed to care, or even remember, that I was a foreigner. Shoulders pressed against mine without a thought, and even if I didn't understand the game I could still laugh along with everyone else, just savouring the precious feeling of fellowship. I hadn't fully realised until now just how much I'd missed it.

It was a thirsty evening for everyone; there would be sore heads all round in the morning. By comparison I'd been deliberately very sparing with the ale (especially in view of how little I'd eaten), but eventually even my cup was drained, and I quietly extricated myself from the group and went to dip another half-cupful. No more than that, I reminded myself.

The sense of being among friends again had lulled my caution, if not banished it completely. I was actually taken aback when someone stepped across my path, and it was a moment before I took in the fact that not only had Makia moved deliberately in front of me, but that she was directing at me one of those slanting, sideways glances that among the People are a free ticket to a strictly temporary Heaven.

Close up, she really was gorgeous. Her mouth was sultry, her deep blue eyes fringed with thick lashes, her long, wavy hair the colour of ripe barley. Her attractions further south would have got her pride of place on many a teenage boy's locker door. And I was a little … well, not drunk, but there was definitely an alcoholic gloss on my craving for belonging.

What if I couldn't get home? Was I doomed to stay here for ever, the outsider, the stranger?

I wanted to forget. And her body promised forgetfulness, and more: much more.

I'd promised myself I'd be faithful to Hoshi. Fidelity was never my strong suit with women, but Hoshi … Hoshi was worth it.

But Hoshi was another world away. Hoshi almost certainly thought by this time that I was dead. And unless things changed in a way that right now seemed exceptionally unlikely, I might as well be as far as she was concerned.

Jessa. She hadn't shown up. She obviously hadn't been happy with my stupid move. Maybe if I'd … ah, what the hell was the point of wondering? My usual finesse with relationships had struck again, that was all. At some point I'd have to face her and try to patch things up, if that was even possible, but right now I just wanted something to take the pain away…. Even if it was just a temporary fix, I wanted something.

I'd like to claim it was alcohol that painted the smile on my face, but if I'm honest it was lust. I didn't know why she'd suddenly decided to bestow her favours on me, but I wasn't about to refuse. Everyone had seen the offer; there were already catcalls and cheers around us. For that moment in time, I was a man among men, and the most beautiful woman in the place had picked me.

Her hand in mine was warm. Her smile in response was deliciously inviting.

"Sod that," I said, chucking the cup vaguely in the direction of the ale-barrel. "Got better things to do." It was in English, but I think most of my hearers got the gist, and cheered even louder.

It was up to me to wave the flag for humankind. And as I watched her perfect bum undulate towards the tent-flap in front of us, I was in no doubt that alien or not, I could run something up the flagpole that she'd salute good and proper.

Lightning flared, annihilating the darkness outside. Almost directly on top of it, the loudest bellow of thunder yet cracked like a cannon-shot at point-blank range, making everyone flinch.

The flash and the blast together seemed to split something open in my mind.

I wasn't in the tent at all; I was somewhere else. I was someone else. I was something else.

Blood. Hot blood, streaming from hot raw flesh, filling my mouth. My teeth digging frantically, tearing off chunks I was almost too hungry to chew before I bolted them. Meat, so much meat; enough to feed every member of both packs for days. We hadn't even had to hunt. The 'sky-thing' high above had swooped low, roaring, and then the huge beast's head had simply exploded. The rest of the herd ran for their lives, and the last of them had hardly thundered past before we were all over the corpse, desperate find some way through its armoured hide to start feeding.

And hunger betrayed me. I didn't even look up as the sky-thing swooped again; I was too busy ripping into the best meal I'd had for weeks.

Then, without warning the world exploded in light and sound, and I was falling backwards: stunned, helpless, terrified.

I didn't recognise the creatures who came down from the sky-thing and bundled me into a net, dragged me from my pack and had me hauled up to be shoved into a cage. I didn't know I was a human and they had come to take me back to be one of the Section's killers. I had lost all the security in my world, because I'd let hunger rule me.

The memory was only with me for a second, but that second was enough to show me with absolute clarity the real danger I was in. Makia was no friend of mine; on the contrary, I was her deadly enemy. When she could have any man in the camp, why the fuck should she choose me? Not because she couldn't resist my masculine attractions, that was a fact. Now I was able to think again, I could imagine all too well what would follow if she and I were alone together and out of sight. All it would take was the accusation that she'd changed her mind at the last minute and I wouldn't take no for an answer. As neat and simple as that.

Rape.

And I'd so damn near fallen for it, hook line and sinker, like the greenest bloody amateur in the business!

My hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her up short. Her face as she turned was incredulous; I honestly think she'd never had anyone say 'no' before.

"Sorry, darling. Changed my mind." I smiled at her, and I knew the whole quality of my smile had changed. "You go tickle some other poor fish out of the pool. I just got a sniff of the frying pan."

I was speaking in English but I didn't make the slightest effort to lower my voice. The scorn in it must have cut like a whip, but some of the lash was for me, because I'd been so criminally careless and so unutterably stupid. It wasn't as if I hadn't fucked enemies before, but never without securing my escape route first. Here, there was no escape route, and but for one opportune crack of thunder and lightning I'd have walked straight into the trap, my eyes wide shut.

I threw her hand away, and wiped my palm on my clothes as though the touch of her soiled me. Then I pushed past her and stalked out of the tent, out into the turmoil of wind and rain.

Within half a second I was saturated. The rain was coming down in stair-rods, and the clouds above were stabbed with almost continuous half-hidden flashes as electric charge leaped from one roiling column to another.

I needed the storm. As I strode away between the tents, heading for open ground and not giving a toss for the danger this would place me in, something in me leaped to meet it, recognising its vast dramatisation of the grief and fury that were churning inside me.

The whole sense of fellowship had given way, my brief illusion crumbling like a rotten wooden bridge above a crevasse. I wasn't one of them; I never would be one of them. I'd never be accepted, never be trusted. I'd never belong. And I'd wanted for so long, and so desperately, to belong.

Finally, aboard Enterprise, I'd found that belonging. I'd found Trip, who was the brother I'd never had. And I'd found Hoshi, who first exasperated, then intrigued, attracted and finally ensnared me. And even apart from those two, there was Captain Archer, whose over-familiar command style had at first been so alien to me, and Travis Mayweather, who I was fast coming to think of as not just a friend, but a good friend. There was even T'Pol – maybe I was pushing it to feel that she regarded me as a friend, but I hoped the trust and respect I felt for her was mutual. And in my own team there was Bernhard, there was Em, there was Mark Darcy, there was …

There was a whole world I belonged to, and this wasn't it.

It never would be.

As soon as I'd got any sort of grasp of the People's language I'd tried desperately to find out how I'd got here. Nobody wanted to talk about it. Eventually, Jessa had told me I'd been found in a cave – some sort of holy place that the hunters had visited to ask for prayers to be said for the welfare of one of the women, who was having a difficult pregnancy. Of course, I'd wanted to know where it was; I wanted to go back to it, and see if I could find my way home. But not only would nobody tell me where it was (it was forbidden for men to even get close to it, let alone enter, unless they were priests), it was made absolutely clear that if I was even suspected of intending to go in there I'd be executed on the spot.

The latter part didn't worry me so much. I reckoned my Section training would stand me in very good stead when it came to sneaking in somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. But the People's absolute determination that I wasn't even going to find out where the bloody place was, was a problem that seemed – for the present, at least – completely unsurmountable.

If I couldn't find out where it was, how could I go there? If I couldn't go there, how could I ever get in? And if I couldn't get in, how would I ever get home? And even if I found the way home, what fate would be waiting for me there? Enterprise would be long gone. Would I return to my own 'world' only to die of hunger and thirst, alone in the dark on that godforsaken planetoid?

It had been a set of questions that gnawed at me – with ever-increasing urgency – with every day that passed. I didn't belong here. I belonged aboard Enterprise, on the hunt for the Xindi. I won't go so far as to say that I wondered what the hell they'd get up to when I wasn't there to keep an eye on them, but I won't deny that something along those lines was an anxiety that only mounted as time went on.

Up till now, I'd managed to keep it fairly well under control; my situation wouldn't be helped by my giving way to my increasing desperation. There wasn't much I could actually do except wait and hope that sooner or later fate would give me a break – little as I enjoy depending on chance, sometimes that's the only thing you can do. Now, however, the whole horrible situation rushed over me like a wave, and I simply had to get away by myself for a while.

I didn't go far. I found myself on rising ground, heading for the point where I'd been watching the herd – had it only been that morning? My feet slipped on the wet grass, making me stumble and lurch; once or twice I fell down, but I kept getting up again.

Habit of mine, that. Getting up again. But I get tired of it, so fucking tired. And that night I just felt that I had nothing left, nothing at all. I'd had a career, I'd had friends, and I'd been beginning to think that with Hoshi I might actually have a relationship that might last; and in the blink of an eye, I'd lost the lot. Gone.

I'd always been prepared for the possibility I might die on duty. My job entails that level of risk, and while I wasn't actually eager to die – whatever a certain Commandah Tuckah might think – I'd achieved a kind of peace with the idea; death is final and simple, and hopefully if mine was required, it would achieve something. Now, however, I felt as though I'd been robbed of something I'd never offered up. What had befallen me was neither final nor simple, and had achieved nothing; I wasn't performing my duty, I was abandoning my duty – the worst and most intolerable fate for a Reed. Everything that mattered had been taken from me, and I just couldn't handle it any more.

I got to the top of the rise. Below me, the herd was very restless. The flicker and glare of lightning played on the sea of backs, slick with rain. I didn't know where Syach was, but further down the ridge I saw Bradda, watching what looked as though it might become a concerted movement; after a few seconds he rode down, probably to head it off.

So that just left me up there: me, and the storm, which incredibly seemed to be getting stronger. The wind hit me in blasts, hurling rain at me so hard it stung every exposed surface of my body. The thunder bellowed overhead, and vivid forks of lightning split the darkness.

Blinded by the rain that drove straight into my face, I lifted my head and stared up into the clouds. I was too crazed to care, too mad with grief and rage and loss to give a damn any more.

"Well, here I am, God!" I screamed. "You fucking put me here, you make your mind up! Do I stay here or what? Is there any fucking point to all this? Are you ever going to let me go home? Or am I just here to give you a fucking good laugh till one of these bastards puts a knife in my back?"

There was no answer, of course. Only the thunder, and the howl of my own aloneness.

I waited. The highest point for miles around, in the middle of a thunderstorm.

There was still no answer. And I was still alive when however long later the thunder finally started to diminish, and there were longer and longer intervals between the flicker of the lightning. The storm was starting to move off, its anger spent; but mine was still with me, lending an edge of recklessness to the final realisation that was it bloody well time for me to wake up and smell the coffee.

Given the present situation, the chances were that I'd never see Enterprise again.