Nyota's mouth was dry as she ordered search party after search party down to the planet's surface. He's fine, she repeated firmly to herself. There's some local interference, something that's preventing the sensors from being able to locate him. The search parties will find him shortly.

It had been 20 minutes since Kirk's call. They had pretty good coverage now for the area ten kilometers around the Galileo. Per standard procedure, the teams called in every 10 minutes. All reports so far had been negative.

Nyota refused to panic. Spock was experienced in getting around out of doors; he wasn't likely to fall prey to misadventure... was he?

Prey. She shot a look at Mallory, focused intently on her scanner. She and Chekov had increased the search radius to 50 kilometers from the shuttlecraft. With each increase in distance, the scan took longer, because they had so much more area to cover. Mallory looked grim. Nyota hadn't the smallest doubt that the tiniest twitch in her readings would be seized upon instantly. But so far, their new science officer had had no luck, nothing to break her concentration.

However, once the concern entered Nyota's mind, she couldn't dismiss it. Licking her lips, she said to Mallory, "Have you run across any of those quadrupeds yet?"

"Yes, sir," Mallory answered, formal in deference to Nyota's command position. "There's a herd of them at the edge of my search radius."

"Can you scan them? Give me a better idea of what they are?"

Mallory made an adjustment. "Scanning."

Nyota counted the seconds. Mallory's analysis took long enough that yet another search party had time to call in and report their status: negative.

"The creatures are a species of unknown type," Mallory announced. "It's hard to say how they might map into our designated categories without a more detailed evaluation."

"Are they..." Nyota hated to ask, but had to. "Are they carnivorous?"

Mallory went silent again. Nyota listened to the accelerated beat of her own heart.

"They fit the general physiology of herbivores," Mallory said at last, to Nyota's momentary relief. "But they have a peculiar mouth structure... it's hard to say what they might eat."

"Digestive track?" Lo asked. She was primarily watching Mallory, as there were few engineering functions for her to be engaged in during a standard orbit.

"Medium-length gut," Mallory responded. "They could be omnivores."

"If they're in a herd," Chekov volunteered from his station, "they vould most likely be herbiwores, yes?"

"Not necessarily," said Lo. "The swamp tigers of Capella A hunt in large packs."

"As do wolves and many other wild canids on Earth," Mallory added.

"And the gorgul beasts of Lambda Serpentis," said Chekov. "I forgot about those."

"Not to mention velociraptors," Lo chimed in. "Wrong class, but they were definitely plains predators."

"The verebats of Ursae Majoris are said to descend upon their wictims in a giant cloud," Chekov said eagerly, warming to the topic.

"Enough!" Nyota rubbed her temples in the wake of her outburst. The restored silence on the bridge rebuked her for her loss of control. "I'm sorry," she added more quietly. "I'd appreciate relevant contributions to the problem at hand, but I don't think Spock was sucked to death by a giant cloud of bats."

"Sorry," Lo murmured.

"My apologies," Chekov said miserably, which made Nyota feel even worse.

"That's all right," she said encouragingly. "I don't mean to stifle discussion. Just... try to keep it on target."

Chekov relaxed marginally. "I vill, Lieutenant."

Nyota sighed, then hastened to respond to a couple of additional search parties reporting in.

"How many teams are out now?" Lo asked, after Nyota finished logging their replies.

"We've got 18 four-man teams on the ground," Nyota responded. "Each team is divided into pairs, but they're coordinating their efforts through the team leaders. We've got two more teams prepping the onboard shuttlecraft, but they haven't launched yet."

Lo frowned. "That still leaves about 40 people unaccounted for from Security. What's up with them?"

Nyota shot her a quick look. "Do you think I should wake them up?"

Lo sat back. "Oh, right. Split shifts. Well... should we?"

"We could ask for wolunteers from other departments," Chekov offered.

"We can't guarantee they'd know how to respond in an emergency situation," Nyota answered automatically. Then she thought it through and responded more thoughtfully, "We can't put unnecessary numbers of people at risk, just to look for one person."

Lo smiled. "You sound like Spock."

Nyota couldn't smile back. She didn't want to sound like Spock; she wanted to hear Spock speak for himself. "Security is trained for ground assignments," she answered resignedly. "Most of our crew are technical specialists." She shook her head. "I can't run risks with their personal safety."

Lo turned back to her station. "You're stronger than I am, Nyota."

Nyota didn't feel very strong. Only her confidence in Spock's ability to handle himself in untoward circumstances kept her from crawling out of her skin.

Despite herself, her mind wandered back to his unexpectedly intimate communication nearly two weeks ago. Here, the air enfolds one like a soft blanket, holding in the heat of day and releasing it gently, hour after hour, like a considerate friend as one flees along beneath the stars. She had not known Spock had such poetry in him. Or rather, she had suspected it, but never expected it to surface so strongly or so soon.

They had exchanged one further round of messages, equally personal, after Nyota had received Spock's first astonishingly personal breakthrough. Would these be the last words of love she'd ever hear from him? She shook her head sharply. Unthinkable. But once Spock's original letter was back in her mind, she couldn't help replaying it mentally, so often had she listened to it, embracing the words in the darkness of her cabin through the long reaches of the night.

I ran through the darkness tonight. For hour upon hour, I knew only the feel of the wind upon my skin...

Nyota frowned. Spock's jacket was missing. Vulcans had incredible endurance. I ran through the darkness...

Thinking hard, she turned slightly toward Mallory. "Ensign?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," the science officer responded promptly. "Expanding search radius to 60 kilometers."

"Never mind that," said Nyota—making half the heads on the bridge turn her way. "I'd like you to alter the search pattern to scan... bearing 278, from the Galileo."

"Toward the mountains?" Chekov asked.

"Toward the mountains," she confirmed. "How wide is your search path?"

Mallory said, "I can get ten kilometers with high resolution, and another five, a little fuzzy, on either side of it."

"That will do. Begin scanning from your last search radius, directly toward the mountains."

"You think he valked there." Chekov's tone was laden with disbelief. "271 kilometers from the shuttlecraft."

Nyota nodded to Mallory. "Go ahead, Ensign."

Mallory held her gaze for a moment. An unspoken message of trust—not in each other, but in their mutual friend—passed between them. Then Mallory turned and smoothly adjusted her instruments. "Altering search pattern."

"Mr. Chekov," Nyota said, "track the scan area. I want exact coordinates available in case we do find him."

"Aye." Chekov sounded skeptical. But his willingness didn't matter, only his compliance.

Mallory bent over the scanner, reporting her progress. "Passing 60 kilometers from the shuttlecraft... 70."

Intent as Nyota was on Mallory's readouts, she had to break off to log the reports, still negative, from two more ground teams. When she was able to return her concentration to the bridge, Mallory picked up with her recital. "Passing 140 kilometers from the shuttlecraft... 145. 150 kilometers..."

Nyota felt her breath catching.

"How long would it take someone to walk 150 kilometers?" Lo whispered to an officer beside her, but Nyota hadn't attention to spare for the response.

"Passing 160 kilometers... 165." Mallory went rigid. "Found him."

Nyota's heart leaped into her throat.

"There he is!" she squealed, face still pressed to the scanner. "At the northern edge of my field."

"Confirmed," Chekov said almost immediately. "Range... 169 kilometers from the shuttlecraft." He turned around to give Nyota a strange look. "Vhat is he doing vay out there?"

Nyota didn't care. Her heart surged with relief. Her hand flew out on its own to hit the ship-to-surface link. "Enterprise, calling Captain Kirk."

In a moment, Nyota heard the worried reply. "Kirk here."

"Captain, we've found him." She could hardly form the words, she was so giddy from released tension.

She actually heard him sigh. "Where is he?"

"169 kilometers west-northwest of you."

There was a pause, doubtless for Kirk to process his surprise. "One hundred and—"

"Target is moving beyond scanning field," Mallory said quickly. "Bearing... 97 degrees. That's toward the shuttlecraft."

Chekov quickly checked his instruments. "I'm reading the same. Target is moving, speed fluctuating between... 20 and 21 kilometers per hour." Chekov looked back at Nyota with a frown. "Can Mr. Spock run that fast?"

Kirk's voice interrupted. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I didn't quite hear that."

Nyota upped the volume on her comm link. "Mallory and Chekov are reporting that Mr. Spock is moving at... a pretty good clip."

"He's a marathon runner!" Chekov cried with delight.

"Maybe he brought a rover with him," Lo speculated.

"Negative," Mallory said, still hunched over her scanner. "I read no mechanical conveyances. But there are..."

Nyota's stomach clenched. "Yes?"

"Numerous animal forms on all sides." Mallory spared Nyota a telling glance. "They're surrounding him."

"Our quadrupeds?" Nyota asked.

"Affirmative." Mallory returned to her scan. "Closing in on all sides."

Chekov called, "Speed increasing. Now averaging... 26 kilometers per hour."

"Are they chasing him?" Nyota asked breathlessly. She envisioned Spock running before a herd of strange, omnivorous beasts—a helpless, sentient prey.

Mallory gazed into her viewer. "Unable to ascertain. Spock and the animal forms seem to be moving together. They're definitely reacting to each other."

"Now at... 31 kilometers per hour!" Chekov looked around with wide eyes. "They're racing!"

Kirk apparently overheard enough to alarm him. "Transporter room!" he cut in. "Scotty, beam Mr. Spock up now!"

Scotty's voice came over the link. "I cannae beam him up without coordinates, Captain."

Nyota spun in her chair toward the navigation console. "Chekov! Get those coordinates to the transporter room, fast!"

Chekov's fingers were already flying over his panel. "Transferring Mr. Spock's position..."

"Spock's in the middle of this herd," Mallory said grimly. "Mr. Scott won't be able to isolate his signature."

Nyota pressed her intercom link. "Scotty! Resolve Mr. Spock's signature based on science station readings. There are other lifeforms in the field."

"Working," Scotty's assistant, Lumley, cut in. Apparently Scotty was busy with the transport operation.

"Transporter room!" Kirk cried. "Do you have him?"

"Stand by," Lumley answered. There was an agonizing pause. Then she said, with a strangely flat intonation, "Yeah."

Everyone on the bridge released a held breath. Nyota wondered if a person could faint from relief.

Kirk appeared affected more by Lumley's lack of professionalism than by Spock's rescue. "Yeah?" he asked sarcastically. "What do you mean, 'Yeah'?"

Lumley said, in a dreamy voice that sent chills down Nyota's spine, "Oooooooh yeah."