SIX

Kirk glanced at the wagon near which their two prisoners sat, hands and feet bound. They had Theron and Deets. In the excitement of the explosion Brewer had gotten away. He'd thought about pursuing the Klingon, but decided at the moment that it was a waste of time and energy.

He was probably halfway back to Qo'noS by now.

The blond man turned his attention then to the makeshift structure they had created out of branches and bark and covered with boughs and leaves from nearby trees. It housed two very sick men. Though the elder Cartwright brother had not been wounded – at least not in any way they could find – he had fallen unconscious in his father's arms and had yet to wake up. Joe, well, Joe Cartwright was far from being out of danger. When he'd talked to McCoy, the doctor had growled and complained about an era where medicine had yet to advance to the level of Spock's stone knives and bear skins. The blow that Deets had given to Joe's head had broken the skin and become infected. His fever was high. A course of powerful antibiotics could save him.

Without them, McCoy warned, he might die.

Housed in the moment within the construction were four people. Anne Cartwright would not leave her husband's side. Bones said it was all right. She'd been a great help to him and was a lady to be reckoned with. Ben Cartwright sat between his two sons, fearful for the one and filled with wonder at the other – at the son who had gone missing so many years ago, whom he had feared dead, who had been pulled from beneath the earth in a second birth and was now alive and yet in danger.

Across the camp his crew was sleeping too. They'd been on their feet for more than twenty-four hours. It had taken an order, of course, to get them to do so.

Kirk ran a hand over his face. Unfortunately, there was no one around who outranked him.

"You need to get some sleep," a familiar voice chided, "unless you want to end up in a third bed in my make-shift sickbay."

Jim looked up to find McCoy watching him. He shook his head. "There's Theron yet to deal with."

His friend inclined his head toward the wagon beside which the trussed malcontent and rogue Originator sat. "Spock's gone to see to him."

Kirk looked over his shoulder. He could see his friend's long lanky form advancing slowly toward the wagon. A frown furrowed his brow as he turned back. "About Spock..."

McCoy nodded. "There's something wrong. I can't put my finger on it."

"Do you want me to order him to let you examine him?"

The doctor shook his head. "No need to antagonize him yet. I've got my eye on him."

Kirk glanced again at his first officer. Spock had stopped by Theron. His tall form was rigid, disapproval of the rogue Originator written into every line.

"Good," he said. "That makes two of us."

Curran Theron's smile was as mad as it was maddening. His crimson eyes lit with a queer delight as he looked up and asked, "I bet you think you've won, Vulcan. Don't you?"

"Idle speculation is as worthless an occupation as betting."

The Originator laughed. "That's why you'll never understand." He paused. "Do you play chess, Spock?"

Frowning was illogical, but it was genetically impossible for him to avoid doing so thanks to his mother's DNA. "Yes."

"How about poker?"

For a moment Spock was struck dumb by the absurdity of a being whose species had created a link to all of time and space engaging in a simple card game.

"No," he said.

Theron was not an Albino, but he had chosen to make himself look like one, which in some ways was a window into his twisted mind. Spock pursed his lips. A window he should have been able to open.

"Oh, you're wrong. You're playing it now," the Originator laughed. "I've dealt you a hand and you're losing."

Spock stiffened. "You have been defeated and are under arrest. I fail to see how you could in any way consider yourself as having the upper hand."

Curran Theron's voice changed. It deepened and grew more intense. "Did you really think for one Earth minute that a being such as I could be incapacitated and held by such a simple thing as ropes around the wrist? I walk with the gods, Spock," he declared. "And soon, you will too."

Theron's last words were close to a whisper. They carried both a warning and a threat.

"It's not over."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ben Cartwright stirred. He sucked in air and ran both hands over his stubbled cheeks. He'd reached into that shaft, meaning to save one son and had found, in fact, he'd saved two. His eldest son, whom he had given up for dead, was alive. Adam was here.

Adam was home.

The older man turned and glanced at his other son. Anne had not left Joe's side. She was there still, asleep, her head laying on his son's chest. Joe's hand was draped over her shoulder. Sadly, Joseph was far from well. Doctor McCoy'd said he had done all he could before he left, the rest was up to Joe now. Ben leaned back and looked at the green boughs above him. How many times had he heard those words concerning this, his last born child? His son had a strong constitution. Joe had survived more than any man should be asked to survive. Still, there would be an end, as there had been an end for Hoss, for Marie, and for his other wives.

He prayed Joe's would not come before his own.

As the older man sat there, thinking, his oldest boy stirred. A low moan escaped Adam's dusty lips. He seemed to grow quiet and then, without warning, shot up out of the bed.

"Joe!"

Ben caught his shoulders, still amazed that the touch was real. "Son, you're brother is beside you. He's...hurt, but he's here. You kept him alive, Adam. You saved him."

His son blinked once, twice, and then focused on his face. 'Pa?' he mouthed and then reached out and touched him as if trying to determine whether or not he was real.

He knew the feeling.

Ben caught his hand and squeezed it. "I'm real, Adam," he said, "as real as you."

Unexpectedly, Adam began to cry. Tears streamed down his dusty cheeks. "Pa," he whispered. "Pa, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry for what, son?"

"For leaving you. You and Joe and...Hoss." He shook his head. "If I had been here, maybe... Hoss, Pa. And...Joe's wife and child."

"I was here, son," he said, his heart breaking as well as his voice. "There was nothing I could do." Ben paused. When he spoke the words he meant them. It had taken a long time, but he did mean them. "God's will be done."

Adam's eyes went to his brother. "God's will..." he mouthed.

Ben nodded. "Be done."

His son fell silent then, as if dealing with that in his own way. A moment later his eyes returned to him. "I didn't go away because I wanted to, Pa. There was something... Something I had to do."

"Each man plots his own course, son. It does no good for another to question it."

"No, Pa," Adam insisted, gripping his hand. "I need you to understand. It was for Joe. It was to protect Joe." He watched as his eldest son's eyes went to his brother and his sleeping wife. "So he could have a life."

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends...or for his brother," Ben quoted, his words quiet.

It took a moment, but Adam nodded. The grip on his fingers was returned. "I love you, Pa. I'm so glad to be home."

He'd told his sons that tears were a blessing and he meant it.

He did nothing to stop their flow.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Kirk pulled Scotty to the side. "Where's Sheriff Coffee?" he asked.

"He left, Captain. He's looking for the man whot escaped."

He let out a sigh. "Let's hope he doesn't find him. I'd hate to think of a local sheriff going up against a Klingon."

Scotty laughed. "My money would be on the sheriff, Captain," he said with a wink. "He's a bonny man."

Absently, he nodded. "Where are Uhura and Sulu?"

"Standing guard, Captain."

He thought a moment. "I want you three to return to our time and the Enterprise and wait for my orders."

"Sir?"

"We've tampered enough with the time stream. The more of us there are in the past, the more possible damage we can do. McCoy has to remain for the time being. Joe Cartwright can't be left alone without a doctor. Spock," he glanced in the direction of the wagon. "I'll watch Spock."

Scotty frowned. "Are you thinkin' there's somethin' wrong with Mister Spock, sir?"

It was a feeling – another one of those inexplicable hunches. "I don't know, Scotty. I hope not."

"Very well, sir. I'll gather up the others and we'll use the time bracelets to return."

"Take them off the minute you get there and hand them over to security. Don't for any reason use them again." He drew a breath. "Even though you've only used them once, I don't want to take any chances."

"What about you, Captain? You've used it three times."

Kirk grinned. "Five seems to be the charm. That's part of why I'm worried about Spock. He's used it four times so far as I can deduce." He looked for the Vulcan's slender form near the wagon, but didn't see him. Spock must have finished with Theron and gone on to something else. "In order for Spock to return to our time, he will have to use the manipulator again. I want Bones there looking out for him when he does."

With that the blond man left Scotty to inform the others of his decision. As he crossed back over to the makeshift hospital a pale glow lit the sky behind him and he knew they were gone. That left him, Bones, and Spock to mop up the mess they had made in history. Theron would need to be taken to a Starfleet facility, all of the bracelets gathered and quarantined, and it would probably be wise to go to Gateway to check in with the Guardian and see if it could show them the past they had lived and the future they might have unwittingly created.

Bones was coming out of the tent when he arrived.

"Joe?" he asked.

"The same," the doctor replied, his tone discouraged. "Damned if I don't feel useless! The man has a simple infection and it's probably going to kill him."

Kirk scowled. "You really think he might die?"

The other man shrugged. "I'm a doctor not a prognosticator. It's up to Joe. He's young and strong. He may make it."

He nodded and then glanced toward the wagon. "Have you seen Spock?"

McCoy frowned. "He was over there a minute ago." When he looked and didn't find him, he added, "Where'd he go?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I'm going to find out."

Kirk hastened his pace as he drew near the last place he had seen Spock. That inner sense he had was tingling. When he arrived, the tingle turned to a shock. Curran Theron was nowhere in sight.

Neither was Spock.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The Vulcan stumbled and almost fell. It had happened so fast. Theron had appeared to be subdued, his hands bound, his feet hobbled. Then, suddenly, he was free. Having had no direct contact with the Originators before, it appeared they had underestimated their powers. Theron had allowed himself to be taken. He could have escaped at any time. He chose not to. He chose to let everything unfold as it had, knowing that – no matter what – his will would be done. Even now, he meant to go back, meant to leave Joseph Cartwright in that mine. Then he'd kidnap Joseph's wife, in effect kidnapping his son. Theron would rear the boy as his own, corrupting him, bending the child to his will and molding the last of his descendants to become one of the most destructive forces in the universe.

Jim Kirk unleashed.

Before that he would play with them, as a cat did with mice. He would torture McCoy, ruin Kirk, and him, well, Theron had told him what he intended to do with him – destroy his mind.

Though there was no one Spock would admit it to, that scared him. It scared him so much he had decided that logic dictated illogical action.

He was going to kill the man with his bare hands.

Even as the thought crossed the Vulcan's mind, Curran Theron turned to look at him. It was as if the Originator could read his mind. "Behold the noble Vulcan!" he said. "The archetype of non-violence."

If he could read his mind, Theron didn't need to be told. Half of his heritage was human.

"I will not let you destroy Jim," Spock warned as he walked. "Now or in the future."

"And how do you propose to stop me?"

"I do not know how," he admitted, "but I will."

The rogue Originator caught him by the arm and spun him around. Theron's crimson eyes blazed a trail into his near-black ones. "Tell me, Spock," he breathed, "what is it you fear most?" Theron's hand touched his. Cold fingers encircled his wrist and then grasped the bracelet he wore.

Spock drew in a sharp breath. "No."

The Originator' smile was wicked and pregnant with pleasure. He took hold of the bracelet and pressed a hidden switch, releasing all of its remaining venom in a single deadly burst.

"Yes."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Adam opened his eyes again, it wasn't to find his pa but a lovely woman keeping watch over him. She sat between him and Joe and, by the way she was holding his little brother's hand, he knew she must be his wife. The woman was beautiful as he would have expected, with deep golden blonde hair and a face that would have moved a master painter, but there was more to her than that. Even as she held her wounded husband's hand and tears ran down her cheeks, her eyes were bright with hope. He continued to watch her until she blinked and turned to look at him.

She must have sensed somehow he was awake.

That beautiful face lit with a smile. "Adam?"

He returned it. "And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

She looked at Joe, leaned over and kissed his forehead, and then placed her husband's hand on his chest. Turning fully toward him then, she said, "My name is Anne. Anne Cartwright."

His eyes went to her belly, which was big with child. "Mrs. Anne Cartwright, I hope?" he laughed.

She laughed too. "Yes, Uncle Adam."

That sobered him. Again, the loss of those twelve years away struck him as hard as the falling rocks in the mine. He'd missed so much – saying goodbye to Hoss, helping his brother through his loss, Joe's courtship and wedding..."

"Adam?"

"Sorry," he sighed, shifting his covers and sitting up. "Just feeling sorry for myself."

She looked at him, seeming to read his mind. "It doesn't matter why you went away. You're here now. You..." Her voice broke. "You were here to save your brother."

"This time," he said quietly.

He felt her hand on his. "We can't question God, Adam. About Hoss or Alice. If she had lived, I wouldn't be here and Joe... Well, he wouldn't be the man he is now."

What was it Joe had said as they sat in the mine shaft waiting for their air to run out? That God allowed a man to be hurt so he would decide to be stronger?

"You're very wise," he said with a little smile.

"No, she's...not," a tired voice remarked, so softly they almost missed it. "...just...stubborn."

Anne pivoted sharply. "Joe!"

His grin was pale, but it was there. Adam watched as his brother weakly lifted his hand and his wife caught it. "Hey...beautiful," he said.

Adam closed his eyes. He sighed with relief. It wasn't over by a long shot. There was the threat of internal injuries, of infection, of...so much. But his brother was awake and alive.

"If you two awake aren't a sight for a weary old physician's sore eyes," a tired voice pronounced, opening Adam's eyes again. He looked and found Doctor McCoy standing just within the door of the small structure. The older man was grinning. "I'm beginning to believe I could cure the common cold!"

Adam began to rise to his feet.

A hand on his shoulder held him down. "Now, you wait a minute, young man. Until you have a permission slip from this old Georgia doctor, you're not going anywhere."

"I need to..." He paused. "I'd like to talk to my father, Doctor McCoy." Adam's eyes flicked to Anne and Joe. "Alone."

McCoy lifted his hand. "Oh, I see. Well, I guess that couldn't hurt." He brightened. "I just left off talking with him myself. He was saying goodbye to Sheriff Coffee."

"Roy left?"

"The sheriff needed to return to his duties in Virginia City. Your father asked him to check in at the Ponderosa and let the men there know what was going on."

"What about Theron and Deets? Roy left them here? Unguarded?" Even though he knew the rogue Originator and altered Klingon had no business in Roy's jail, he found it hard to believe the seasoned lawman hadn't fought for just that.

McCoy smiled. "Son, you've been traveling with the sour-tempered, close-mouthed first officer of the Enterprise. Jim Kirk is blessed with a winning smile and an even more winning way with words. He convinced your sheriff that he was a Pinkerton detective and, as such, had jurisdiction over the prisoners."

Adam snorted. "Amazing."

"That's Jim." McCoy nodded toward his brother. "Now, you just let me get to the man who needs me before I start feeling useless." The doctor nodded toward the entrance. "You go talk to your father."

He rose to his feet, a bit more shakily than he had expected. As he reached the opening, the doctor called him again.

"Oh, and Adam..."

"Yes, Doc?"

"Keep it short."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Where are they?" Kirk demanded of the remaining prisoner. He had removed Deets' gag and was glaring at the Klingon. "Where's Theron? What happened to Spock?"

Deets spit and then wet his lips with his tongue. "Your man was unprepared. Theron overcame him."

Spock? Unprepared?

"You're lying."

"Why would I lie, Kirk? What would it gain me?" He pulled at his restraints. "Remove these and I will show you whose side I am on."

"You were working for Theron."

"No!" he growled. "I did not work for that Ferengi dog! I was assigned to K'Resh by the High Command, the man you knew as Carter. I was fulfilling my duty, nothing more."

Kirk mulled it over. He'd pegged Carter instantly as Intelligence. Deets was a soldier and he knew what that meant since, in a way, he was one himself.

"What's your true name?" he asked.

Something sparked in Deets' black eyes. Respect, he thought. "Drax."

"Drax," Kirk repeated. He drew a breath and let it out slowly. "I'd like to trust you, but I'm not sure I can."

He was surprised to see Drax's eyes move to the structure where the two Cartwright men lay. "Theron is a spineless coward," he spat. "I have seen bravery here unmatched by our young Klingon men."

Kirk frowned.

"Joseph Cartwright," Drax explained, his lips curling with a sneer that was what a Klingon used for a smile. "That one has the heart of a warrior. I would be honored to kill the man who meant to kill him."

Kirk winced. "How about you help capture him instead?"

Drax's eyes were at first confused and then lit with delight. "Ah... So he may be tortured first."

"...right."

He'd deal with that expectation later.

Moving behind the Klingon, Kirk cut Drax's bonds and then stood back, prepared to defend himself if necessary. When the giant just stood there at military ease, he breathed a sigh of relief. With a glance at the structure from which Adam Cartwright was just emerging, he nodded.

"Let's go."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Pa?"

Ben Cartwright had been watching an exchange between Jim Kirk and one of the men who had tried to harm Joseph. These men – Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and the others – they were good men, but they were...wrong. Something about them was simply wrong.

Just like something was wrong with his eldest son's return.

Ben drew in a breath and turned to look at him. In some ways it was almost like Adam had never left. In fact, Adam looked like he had never left.

He looked as young as Joe.

"Son."

Adam took him by the arm, almost as if needing to know he was real. His son stared into his eyes for several heartbeats before releasing him. Then he smiled. "I imagine you have questions."

His lips curled with a smile. "About a million of them."

Adam nodded. "I'll warn you up front, Pa, there's almost a million I can't answer."

Ben reached out and touched his face. "It doesn't matter, son. You're home. That's all that matters."

Adam hung his head. When he looked up again, Ben saw the face of the little boy who had been through everything with him. "I just want you to understand one thing, Pa. Like I said before, I didn't choose to go away because I wanted...needed something for myself. Oh, I'd talked about it often enough." He paused and his voice changed. It became filled with wonder. "I talked about how I wanted to see strange, far-off and distant places. I...did that, and it was amazing. But the only reason I left, Pa, was for family. For Joe."

"That wanderlust that didn't take you," Ben asked, his gaze locked on his son's, "is it satisfied now?"

Adam glanced at the place where his brother lay and then back. "It is, Pa. It is. I don't want to be anywhere but here." A second look of wonder overtook his handsome features. "I'm going to be an Uncle!"

Ben nodded. And he – he would be a grandfather.

There were truly miracles still left in the world.

Letting the tear that had formed in his eye fall unimpeded, Ben sniffed and nodded toward the structure. "Let's go see that brother of yours."

As Adam fell into place beside him and they began to move, Ben halted and turned toward his son.

"What is it, Pa?" Adam asked, doing the same.

"I just have one question."

Adam's black – not gray – but black eyebrows peaked.

"Whatever it is they gave you where you went that's kept you so young looking... They don't sell it in bottles, do they?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Kirk's heart sank to his toes when he heard a low, almost bestial noise. It was the kind one animal made over another, expressing without words a loss that had no words.

The problem was, it sounded human...or...Vulcan

He glanced at the Klingon jogging at his side. Drax had heard it too and recognized it as well.

He'd been on enough battlefields.

With a nod of his head, the blond man indicated the warrior should head to the right, while he took the left. He didn't know what they were looking for, but everything in him told him it had to do with Spock and Theron.

He just prayed the rogue Originator was also the originator of the cry.

Of course, prayer had never availed him much.

Breaking through the trees, the first thing he saw was Spock writhing on the ground. "Drax!" he shouted. "I've found Spock! Theron has to be somewhere nearby!"

"He is mine!" came the forceful answer. The Klingon shouted a battle cry and then he heard him breaking through the trees.

Dropping to his knees beside his first officer and friend, Kirk caught his shoulders and tried to steady him. "Spock! Spock! It's Jim. Can you hear me? It's Jim, Spock!"

The Vulcan quieted, minimally. He still moaned and moved from side to side, but his movements were less violent than before. His lips parted but the only thing that came out was a strangled, "No..."

What had Theron done to him? Quickly examining him with his eyes, the only thing Jim could see that was out of place was a ring of deep green on Spock's wrist beneath the time manipulator he wore. On closer examination he realized the green was running along the Vulcan's veins, almost like blood poisoning.

"Spock? Can you hear me?" Kirk heard the tremble in his own voice. "What did Theron do to you?" Even though it was a waste of time, he wished he had a communicator – wished he could call Scotty back on the ship and forward in time and have him beam McCoy to his side in an instant. "Spock?"

This time the Vulcan's eyes opened. They contained something Kirk had seldom seen – fear.

"...Jim?"

He gripped him harder. "Yes, Spock. It's me. Jim."

"Theron..."

"He's gone. Tell me what he did, Spock. Tell me – "

Vulcan strength bruised his flesh. "Joseph...must save...Joe..."

"He's safe, Spock. Remember?"

"No!" There was a desperation in those eyes as well, something also seldom seen. "Save him...Jim. Save...the future..."

Jim glanced the way Drax had gone. Turning back to Spock he said, "I can't leave you alone."

"Yes...save Joseph. Send...McCoy..."

Spock stopped struggling then as he lost the battle to remain conscious.

He'd had to make many hard calls. He'd have to make many more, but this was one of the hardest.

Kirk left Spock laying where he was and ran for all he was worth back to the camp.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Anne Cartwright stood and stretched and then placed a hand in the middle of her aching back. She was weary beyond words. Since Joe had awakened briefly, giving them hope of a full recovery, a weariness had overcome her borne, she was sure, on the back of everything that had happened over the last few days. Her other hand went to her belly. She had heard of maternal impressions and knew a child could be marked for life by what its mother endured. She could only hope that the love and strength of the Cartwright men would be what her son felt rather than her fear.

She had been so afraid.

With a sigh she scolded herself. What a fool she had been for walking away all those years ago! She could have been married to Joe for over seven years now and had two or three little ones. She would have known his love all that time, would have shared the joy of their children born. Now, here she was, keeping watch over him, broken...maybe dying.

Was that it? Would she be a widow, raising a boy without a father's strong hand as Ben had had to raise his three boys without a woman's touch?

Adam's bed was empty. He and his father had just left. They'd checked in on them and then gone to find Jim Kirk. She wondered about Adam. Once he had cleaned up by running a wet cloth over his face and removed the dust from the mine, she'd been startled to see that Joe's older brother barely looked older than Joe. Maybe by a year or two, but certainly not twelve or thirteen.

There were mysteries within mysteries here.

As the thought crossed her mind, her husband moaned and she turned toward him.

Anne gasped.

Theron Vance stood beside Joe's bed. He had the fingers of one hand entwined in her husband's curly hair. The other rested on Joe's throat as if he would throttle him. Theron's crimson eyes lit with triumph.

"The cards are on the table, my dear," the villain gloated. "I win."