"Sorry, sir. There just aren't any Human bio-signs down there." Geordi turned from the scanner as despondently as though it was his fault there weren't. "I've run the scans over and over again. Unless they've managed to bury him or get him out of the country, he's … well, he's not alive anymore."

Riker felt such a wave of bitter disappointment that for a moment he could hardly breathe. Son had been so sure, so … convincing; it had seemed that all they had to do was track down Hayes' bio-signs and transport him out, and then they could concentrate on working out a peaceful solution to the problem of what to do with their 'guest' and – far more problematically – his father, if indeed Reed really was still alive down there. But it just went to prove that these were wild animals they were dealing with; they might have tolerated the two Humans they'd grown up with, but why the heck should they regard any other as anything other than food?

"I'd better notify the captain," he said heavily. "I don't suppose there's any point in continuing the scans."

Geordi shrugged. "It can't do any harm." His expression doubted whether it could do any good either, but it was clear enough that he was reluctant to abandon even a hopeless search.

"Well. Run a scheduled scan just in case. Every hour or so till we leave orbit."

He returned to the Bridge, where Data was giving the captain an update on the results from the study of the mysterious phenomenon. Not that there was much to give, it seemed, because although the thing was now behaving in a way that suggested it was somehow attracted to the approaching planet – eddying towards it – nobody had been able to explain why this should be so.

"It could possibly be reacting to the planet's gravitational field," the android continued, "but the pattern of movement appears random. I will have to continue my study to see if some alternative explanation presents itself."

"Sir, there seems to be no sign of Crewman Hayes down on the planet." Will made his report with composed sorrow. "We've checked and re-checked the scans."

Deanna had just arrived, having paid Sickbay a visit en route. She was plainly surprised and bewildered by the news. "I sensed no deceit in Son," she said earnestly. "He's still very anxious about our intentions, but he believes what he said is the truth."

"But it seems it is not." The captain heaved a sigh; he must have hoped that their security crewman was not lost after all – and lost in such a way. "But will he believe that?"

=/\=

He did not.

It was hardly to be expected that having grown up in such primitive conditions, the word 'scanner' would have much significance for him. At any rate, even persistent attempts to explain the concept to him, and convince him that the device's searches had an exceptionally high rate of accuracy, failed to even dent his conviction that Hayes was alive and well, and being held hostage for his safe return.

"He is telling the truth as he perceives it," Deanna said again afterwards, when they gathered in the conference room to debate the situation. "He has absolute confidence in what these 'brothers' of his have done."

"There's only one possibility I can imagine," Geordi observed. "As Data said earlier, according to the scans, the rock in that area is very dense, but it's seamed with fractures – probably liable to a lot of earth movement. The biggest concentration of these wolf creatures right now is in a gully, not far away from where the shuttle landed. There are caves there. Hayes could be being kept in them on purpose, to keep him out of our view."

"But would wolves think along those lines?" asked the captain. "Could they be actually capable of understanding the presence of a starship in orbit?"

The engineer shrugged slightly. "If we accept the idea they can take a hostage, we're already accepting they have a higher degree of intelligence than wolves on earth. Seems to me that Son has some means of communicating with them that we don't understand, and if Reed's still alive he may have the same kind of ability – and could conceivably be guiding them now. Alternatively, as he and Sato served on a starship, they might have been able to give their child some kind of idea of it. So one way or the other, the wolves may have some kind of concept of what they're dealing with – probably not too realistic, but enough to allow them to interact with it."

"Have we tried to contact Hayes ourselves?" asked Dr. Pulaski, who had presumably come along to see how matters stood, and to report that Worf was recovering well.

Data nodded. "Several times, without response."

Picard sat back in his chair. "So. Recommendations."

There was a somewhat doubtful silence.

"Have you received any response from Starfleet, captain?" asked Will. "Regarding Lieutenant Reed?"

"Yes. Admiral Hanson contacted me an hour ago." The captain grimaced, but probably more from the complexity of the situation than the memory of the conversation with the admiral, with whom he was known to be on friendly terms. "Naturally, Starfleet find it hard to believe that he could possibly still be alive, but if he is, then the legal situation is unequivocal: he is still facing charges of first-degree murder, and must be brought back to answer to them. There is no leeway that can be extended, regardless of his age or condition or how he came to be here. We must remove him for transportation to Earth."

Deanna's mouth tightened. So did Katherine's. "I doubt whether Son's 'brothers' will make that easy for you, Captain," the doctor commented a little acidly.

"My orders give me no option, Doctor. I may find them personally distasteful and I make no doubt that they may prove enormously difficult to carry out without resorting to force, but a way must be found. Lieutenant Reed is a Starfleet officer gone AWOL, and as such it is my duty to retrieve him and deliver him to justice – those were the Admiral's exact words." He paused before continuing, his brow so dark that it was plain those words had been far from welcome to him.

"It seems to me that the best, if not the only, course is for us to establish if the lieutenant is still alive, and the only way to do that beyond a shadow of a doubt is to speak to him in person."

"But how do you propose to do that, Captain?" Geordi asked, startled. "Even if he still had his old communicator, I doubt if it'd respond to one of our frequencies."

"The captain requested me, just before we came here, to send out a signal using the frequency used by the old NX-class ships," Data said almost apologetically. "There was no response. This might be because the communicator (if the lieutenant has one) is switched off, or it may have ceased to function. From a technical point of view, kept in a suitable environment with adequate maintenance, that type of unit could still be in working condition even after all this time; but it must be regarded as doubtful whether the environment here could be classed as 'suitable', and it is unlikely in the extreme that the lieutenant would have the wherewithal to carry out adequate maintenance, including an appropriate power source."

"Not to mention any reason to keep it switched on," Katherine interposed dryly. "If he was here of his own volition he wouldn't want to advertise his presence, and if he was stranded here he probably knew about that satellite. He wouldn't be expecting anyone to risk coming to his rescue."

"Maybe that shuttlepod was trying," suggested Will. "Do we have any news on that?"

"Nothing definitive." Geordi looked frustrated. "I've had my people do computer enhancements on the photographs the landing party brought back and there was definitely an explosion of some sort in the engine compartment. The evidence suggests it was the cause of the crash, and though we're not familiar with the environmental processes on this planet, the weathering of the impact crater seems consistent with the accident happening not long after Reed's 'disappearance'. But as for whether it happened before or after a landing, or whether the shuttle was simply doing a low pass and developed engine trouble, I'm afraid we can't say."

"More mystery. The more we find out about this place, the weirder it seems to get." Riker looked across at the captain. "Sir, I think you're right that we need to find out once and for all whether Lieutenant Reed is actually still alive. Obviously, if he's not, that particular issue ceases to be a problem.

"But it then raises the issue of how we convince Son of that fact without his believing we were responsible. Because he clearly believes we came here to kill his father, and if we find Reed and then come back to the ship and announce he's dead, that's going to look like a hell of a coincidence to someone who at least believes he left him alive."

"His brain functions seem remarkably intact, considering his age," said Katherine, troubled. "I wouldn't have said he would have any difficulty understanding the concept of death, or recognizing that it had happened – even to someone he loved. There may be some emotional trauma, some deliberate blocking out of the fact; maybe he simply couldn't bear to accept he was finally alone. He hardly ever speaks about his mother, so I'm assuming she's been dead some time."

"Counsellor?" The captain cocked an eyebrow.

Deanna sighed. "It's possible. Being separated from almost all human contact in the way Son has been would have enormous emotional consequences. But I don't get any impression from him that he's refusing recognition of something."

Picard frowned down at his linked hands. "I see no alternative. We must go down to the planet again. If we take Son with us, it will at least be evidence of our good intentions when his 'brothers' see him safe and well. Then, perhaps we may be able to establish whether Crewman Hayes is dead or alive – if the latter, we may have to consent to an exchange of hostages."

"You mean leave him there?" asked Katherine, horrified.

"That must be his decision, Doctor." His voice was very level. "He has grown up on this world and established a familial relationship with some of its creatures. Everything he has ever known and loved is here. At a guess, he has very little time left, and I hazard that he would be most unwilling to spend that time in an utterly alien environment, removed from everything that is familiar and dear to him.

"Naturally, he will be given the choice. We will make it absolutely clear that if he comes with us he will be given every comfort and consideration. But in the last analysis, the choice is his to make – and I strenuously doubt whether he will choose to leave."

"If Lieutenant Reed is alive, that may well change his mind – if not force his hand," said Will shrewdly. "At a guess, he'd feel the need to come along and protect his father. As much as possible, that is." He thought uncomfortably that once the runaway was delivered into the hands of the law, Son would have very little influence on events. Depending on the goodwill (or ill-will) of those in charge of the prisoner, he might even be completely separated from the father he'd come to Earth solely to protect. His case then – effectively alone in a world that was utterly alien to him – would be pitiable indeed.

"Captain." Data had been silent for a while, listening attentively, but now spoke up. "According to my calculations, in Earth years Lieutenant Reed would now be two hundred and forty-five years old. Even given the extraordinary extension of human life that this planet appears to bestow, would not Starfleet risk extreme public opprobrium for subjecting a man of that age and probable infirmity to the stress and distress of a trial?"

"That may well be, Commander. Nevertheless, Starfleet is subject to the law, and as I said earlier, the legal position is absolutely clear. Admiral Hanson admitted that the decision may well ultimately be taken that Mister Reed is now unfit to stand trial, but that decision must apparently be made by qualified psychiatrists and psychologists acting for both the defence and the prosecution, who must testify to the court that they consider him 'mentally incompetent' – if, indeed, he is. My explicit orders are to secure his person and deliver him to the nearest Starbase for onward transportation to Earth – with, of course, every consideration for his health and wellbeing."

There was another silence. Will suspected that he wasn't the only one trying to think of a way to circumvent those orders, but although the captain had already indicated his own deep distaste for the task, his obligation to carry it out was clear. It was his duty to do so, and he would not shrink from it, though at a guess that bit about 'every consideration for his health and wellbeing' had been his own contribution to the agenda.

By now, Will himself had done a little research into the background of what up till now had been a scandal touched on only lightly during history classes at the Academy. The records said that Lieutenant Malcolm Reed had been 'accused of a capital crime'. Although never explicitly stated, this had almost certainly been the murder of his own senior officer, the most heinous of crimes made even more monstrous and even less explicable by the suggestions at the time that the two officers had enjoyed an amicable, even a friendly, relationship. Certainly their interactions up till that point had suggested a real warmth of regard between the two men. But whatever the reasons for the killing might have been, their captain had felt that there was enough evidence to place Reed before a Court Martial for it; and for this particular crime, the memory of the law was long. Justice, so long deferred, must not be evaded completely.

"'Fiat justitia, ruat cælum'," he muttered.

"'Let justice be done, though the heavens fall.' A quotation attributed to the Ancient Roman Lucius Annæus Seneca, otherwise known as Seneca the Younger, but used for the first time in English legal jurisprudence by William Watson in AD 1601, defending the principle of 'justice at all costs'." Data, of course, had the information at his command. "In later versions of the legend recounted by Seneca, this principle became known as 'Piso's Justice', a term that characterizes sentences that are carried out or passed from retaliation – whose intentions are technically correct, but morally wrong."

"You're surely not saying a murderer should escape justice, Will?" asked Katherine curiously.

"Justice, no. Revenge, yes. I guess it made the authorities look pretty foolish when Reed slipped out of the net, and it was never established that he'd gone deliberately or even willingly. I'd just feel happier if I could be sure that we weren't aiding and abetting Starfleet saving face rather than making sure a murderer gets what he deserves."

"That is not our decision to make, Number One!" By the sharpness of his CO's voice, Will knew he'd hit a nerve.

"I know that, sir," he replied, with an apologetic nod. "But surely our duty to obey orders doesn't preclude our right to make moral judgments about them."

"That is the right and the duty of every civilised human being," Picard returned shortly, "but unfortunately, at this moment I have the duty to secure an absconder from justice – and if it is within my power, I intend to see it done.

"Doctor, please prepare our 'guest' for travel back to the planet, and do your best to make him understand what we are trying to achieve. If Crewman Hayes is indeed still alive, I want a peaceful exchange of hostages.

"In view of Son's age, I propose to take him down by shuttlepod rather than subject him to the transporter. I imagine he will find it less intimidating, and it would probably minimise the stress to his body."

"And do I tell him about his father?" she asked.

"No. That, I ask no-one else to undertake. Heaven knows, I'm not exactly relishing it myself – but needs must.

"Number One, arrange for two security officers to meet us in the shuttlebay in half an hour. They must be armed, but under no circumstances are they to use weapons until or unless we are actually attacked. Make sure they understand that.

"And have Chief O'Brien standing by in the transporter room. We may need to be brought up in a hurry. If needs be, the shuttlecraft can be retrieved later."

The time for protest was past. The captain's duty was unpleasant enough without any more indirect reproaches from his officers making it worse. "Yes, Captain."

And so the meeting closed.