Owing to the limited space available in the shuttlepods, the captain had decided to fly the first, carrying one of the two security men he had requested, while Data piloted the other, carrying Son and the second guard. But not only the security detail met Data and the captain in the shuttlebay, bringing Son with them, but Doctor Pulaski arrived too, wearing the expression of one who will not be gainsaid.
"This man is still my patient," she said briskly. "It's my duty as a doctor to see him to safety, Captain – and on that score you are unable to countermand me." This last was added with a somewhat effortful smile, to which he responded with even more of an effort. It would mean he would have to revise his passenger distribution slightly, but he had already been contemplating requesting her to accompany them. If he succeeded in securing his intended prisoner, her help might well be invaluable.
"One moment, Captain," she added in a low voice, drawing him to one side. "There's one question I don't think we've addressed. What if Lieutenant Reed is being kept alive only by remaining on the planet? If this 'entity' has had some effect on it that allows living things on it to exist far beyond their natural life span – but the effect ceases once they're removed from its influence?"
The captain closed his eyes briefly. He had actually contemplated such a possibility during the sleepless hours of the previous night, envisioning the hapless prisoner crumbling into dust as he stepped from the transporter pad. However, such an outcome seemed more in keeping with one of the more lurid cinema productions than actual real life, and he had pushed it to the back of his mind with an effort. "Do you think there may be any scientific basis for such an expectation?" he asked.
"No," she admitted. "But there seems to be no scientific explanation for his having lived for more than two hundred years. All I'm saying is that something is happening here that we don't understand."
"On that, we absolutely agree." He tried to keep the weariness from his voice. "But I cannot refrain from taking him into custody on the excuse that his continued existence might depend on his remaining here. If I had proof of that, it would be a different matter.
"As it is – my hands are tied. Until or unless circumstances dictate otherwise, I must do my duty."
Katherine looked at him dubiously, but said no more.
She had evidently persuaded Son to don boots and warm clothing, presumably obtained from the Quartermaster, and he carried a holdall that presumably held more, plus whatever necessaries she had been able to coax him into accepting – including, at guess, the precious PADD containing the archive recordings of his parents. Even the smallest size clothes available hung loosely on him, but he seemed to have benefited so much from even this brief stay on board ship that the prospect of returning him to the existence of loss and privation that awaited him was even less bearable than it had seemed before.
He, however, seemed buoyant. He clearly felt that the hostage ploy had worked, and that all that remained was the exchange of prisoners. At a guess, he had taken the captain's assurance that he had 'no intention of killing your father' to mean that both of them were safe.
To destroy that faith was like hitting a child, but to allow him to blithely and innocently lead them to the man they had no option but to take prisoner and remove from the planet would be utterly despicable.
It was too easy to imagine that if he knew what was being planned, Son would refuse utterly to co-operate. Much depended on exactly what this 'communication' between him and the wolves consisted of, and how it operated. It might even be possible for him to somehow warn them that all bets were off, and then Hayes' fate would be sealed. Whatever the consequences, however, Jean-Luc could not bring himself to use deception against the man.
As they reached the second shuttlepod's open door, the captain laid a hand gently on Son's sleeve. "Before we leave, there is something I need to explain to you."
"Find – Hayes. Safe." The old man nodded happily. "Brothers not die him, you not die I, you not die Far-ther."
His faith in a cheerful outcome was unbearable. The captain could feel the muscles in his jaw clenching, the way those in his abdomen were already clenched. "I'm afraid it's not quite that simple."
Suspicion flashed into the grey eyes. "Hayes safe," he insisted. "Trust brothers. Trust Son!"
"I do trust you." He took a deep breath, and spoke slowly. "But your father has been accused of committing a very serious crime. I am under orders to take him back to Earth to stand trial, and if he is found guilty he will probably face the rest of his life in prison."
It was not clear whether Son understood every word of this. But he certainly got the gist of it. The suspicion chilled into a freezing glitter, and he stood absolutely still, apparently thinking the thing through carefully. "If not guilty?"
Jean-Luc wished with all his soul that he could promise that if brought to trial and found innocent, or even found unfit to stand trial at all, Reed would be given transportation wherever he wished to go – even if it was back to this isolated planet with its psychotropic atmosphere. But he very much feared that even if the lieutenant somehow managed to survive both transportation and the whole wretched and probably long-drawn-out process of Court Martial, and left court a free man, there would be little appetite among Starfleet's upper echelons for the effort and expense of taking him home to die. "He will be well cared for, in either event," he said. "No-one will harm him. You have my word on that."
"No-tails' 'word'." His lip curled. "No-tails hate Far-ther. Only Mother loved. She told I–" he struggled with the word –"pro...tect him."
"Son. We do not 'hate' your father. But we want, we need, to establish the truth of what happened, and without him that cannot happen." He paused, and took a desperate gamble. "Your father was known among the … the 'no-tails' as a man of great honour. Take me to him. Please. Let me talk to him, and you will find he comes with me willingly."
Once again he endured that long, searching stare.
Finally, Son nodded. "Far-ther ... lead pack many year," he said quietly. "Far-ther ... know no-tails. Will...know truth." He turned away, and with difficulty and the help of the two security men, got up into the shuttlepod. Data was already in the pilot's seat, starting the pre-flight checks.
For another long moment Jean-Luc held Katherine's gaze. I hope you know what you're doing, it said.
So do I, he thought as he turned away to climb into the other shuttlepod.
=/\=
It was early evening by the time the two small craft set down again in the empty meadow. The sun was westering, and a cool little wind fluttered the leaves of the trees all around them.
Data and Son were the only people not wearing breathing apparatus when the doors opened. At a guess, Katherine had given her patient some kind of simple explanation for them, for although as the landing party joined up he cast curious glances at the others' masks, he seemed far more interested in making the hostage exchange than in prolonged discussion about 'no-tails'' inability to breathe what to him was ordinary air.
"There are several wolves watching us," Data said in a low voice, studying his scanner. "They are concealed in that thick stand of vegetation over there."
Jean-Luc glanced at Son. "Did you know they would be there?"
He nodded. "Wait brother," he replied simply.
"Did you call them?" asked Katherine.
This seemed a little more complicated. Finally, with a frown of puzzlement, "Not call ... feel."
"Do you know where Crewman Hayes is being held?" The captain was normally as interested in extra-sensory communication as anyone else, but the fate of his missing officer was weighing heavily on his mind.
Son nodded again. "Not far." He led the way without hesitation. Although the two guards kept watch, it was only Data's scanner that revealed the presence of the escorts that moved noiselessly through the woods around them.
Even in spite of his worry, Jean-Luc could not help noticing the beauty of the landscape around them. It was apparently autumn; the level sunshine lit many of the trees in brilliant shades of bronze and gold, while beyond them rank upon serried rank of mountains reared against the sky, streaked with snow that was already tinted lilac where the shadows gathered. He could guess that the air would smell fresh and clean, with perhaps a hint of snow, but he was certainly not going to take the risk of lifting his visor to sample it.
"It's absolutely beautiful, isn't it?" The doctor too had been glancing around her. "It reminds me of a holiday I had once in the Rocky Mountains."
"Beautiful, yes – perhaps too beautiful for its own good," the captain said darkly. "Perhaps it's just as well for the inhabitants that those chemicals you found are natural to the atmosphere. It certainly offers them a measure of protection against anyone contemplating founding a colony here."
"Perhaps that is why no-one has ever done so." Data helped Son to negotiate a slightly awkward patch in the vague path he seemed to be following. Ahead of them the ground was definitely broken, and the android announced that according to the map, this was the area where the caves were sited – and where the wolves had appeared to be gathered.
They still were. As the landing party approached what seemed to be a short, rocky slope into a gully, there was movement, and next moment Jean-Luc got his first sight of the creatures that had attacked the earlier away team and – if Son was to be believed – kidnapped one of them.
He was familiar with the appearance of Earth wolves, and had expected something along the same lines; now, he was startled by the size of the animals that stood up to watch their approach. Although not particularly heavily built, except around the shoulders, they were very tall; almost the height of a Great Dane. The tips of the largest's ears would probably be on a level with the average human waist.
He was next struck by the intelligence of their expressions. They exhibited no sign of fear or anxiety; they were simply watchful. It was hard to escape the immediate impression that they were completely aware of what was going on, and the idea that his missing ensign might indeed be being held hostage suddenly seemed far less absurd than it had done previously.
As Son reached the foot of the slope, the wolves came to him. At once he dropped to all fours. They were obviously welcoming him back, but their behaviour was not like that of a pet, as he had expected, and Son's was oddly wolflike. There was much mouth-licking and nuzzling and playful pushing, and the new clothes were thoroughly investigated. A couple of well-grown puppies dug their teeth into loose folds of the jumper and tugged at it.
"Eyes good!" said Son as he finally stood up again, gently detaching the playful puppies. "See brothers good! Doctor make weller? I is ... is... grr-grrateful?"
"Yes, I did." Her voice was soft. "You're welcome."
"Find Hayes. Safe. No-tails take him away. And captain–" his tone chilled – "speak Far-ther."
The wolves parted silently to let the landing party through. The mouth of the cave was black-dark, but the security personnel were both carrying flashlights, and these lit up the inside as they entered, Son again leading the way.
It was narrow near the entrance, partially blocked by an old fall (probably due to that earth movement Data had mentioned earlier) but it was possible to negotiate a way past it. A short way inside, the space opened out to a modest area that offered flat, sheltered lying, and in a corner of it a nursing bitch raised her head to survey the strange visitors with a flat blue hostile stare across her single puppy.
The cave narrowed again at the far side and became a tunnel that bent right and then turned sharply left. Son led the way along it without hesitation, and the landing party followed him.
The torchlight precluded them realising that there was already light ahead of them, so that when the tunnel turned again and opened out into another, much smaller cave the sudden extra illumination came as a surprise.
Hayes seemed to have been seated at the other side of the small space, leaning against the wall and probably half asleep. As the new arrivals entered he was scrambling to his feet, blinking in the sudden white brilliance; it was probably quite blinding after hours spent with only the gentle glow of the single flame hovering over a pool of fat in a hollow stone beside him. "Captain – Captain Picard!"
"Crewman." Though not usually demonstrative, the captain stepped forward and put a glad hand on the young man's shoulder, almost reassuring himself he really was still alive and well. Unobtrusively, Katherine pressed a hypospray to Hayes' neck – presumably some kind of antidote to whatever of the atmospheric contamination he'd inhaled since his capture – then ran a scanner over him and nodded confirmation; he was quite unhurt, though at a guess he'd need additional treatment after his return to the ship. One of the security men had brought a spare set of breathing equipment, and Hayes donned it, inhaling deeply of the clean air in the tank.
Son had not paused. He had slipped to the opposite side of the cave, where the ceiling dipped low. There, there was what appeared at first glance to be a long mound of furs; but at his approach it sprouted heads and paws, and transformed itself into several large wolves that sat up and greeted him affectionately.
They did not stand, however. They were forming part of what actually was a long heap of furs, albeit rather smaller than it had originally appeared. And in the middle of it, instantly recognisable from his photograph even despite the passage – incredibly – of over two hundred years, was Lieutenant Malcolm Reed.
His hair was perfectly white, and thin. He had a long white beard, and he was so emaciated with age that it was astonishing he still had the strength to draw breath. But his faded eyes watched the newcomers steadily over his son's shoulder; and there was no doubt that he knew perfectly well who they were – and, indeed, had been waiting for them.
Jean-Luc stepped towards him, watching the open tenderness with which father and son embraced, and for the first time felt the full loathsomeness of the duty he could not evade. Even the wolves seemed to be staring at him with distrust and distaste.
"Lieutenant." He waited until the embrace ended before he said it.
"Captain – Picard." The English voice was no more than a whisper.
"Mister Reed, you were a serving Starfleet officer – and I believe from your records, an exemplary one until events intervened." He paused.
"Yes," came the whispering voice. "I understand – duty. Before – everything."
Was that absolution? Or was that idea just wishful thinking? But it tallied perfectly with the historical accounts that Reed had been an absolute stickler for duty aboard the NX-01.
A claw-like hand crept from beneath the furs. Between him and the angle of the wall was a long, low heap of small rocks, arranged with what seemed like loving care, and the bony fingers touched the nearest like a caress. Like a farewell.
Son had obviously expected there to be some kind of discussion. His face was a study in shock. No words came, just a long wail of pain as he realised no discussion was necessary. His father knew what the 'no-tails' had come for, and was, indeed, willing to go with them.
The hand wavered towards his face, and stroked it. "Son," whispered Reed. "Always loved. Stay – Hoshi. Stay – brothers. Not ... alone."
"Far-ther alone," sobbed Son.
"Father always–" He touched the chest where the tattooed arrowhead insignia was hidden. "And always–." He gestured towards the rocks. "Made me – kept us– human."
As he slowly pushed off the fur that covered him, the wolves that had been keeping him warm shifted away with anxious, plaintive sounds.
He was wearing a garment that was so old it was threadbare to holes. It was patched almost everywhere. But where the original fabric remained, it could be seen that it had once been blue; and over the shoulders lay the faded piping that had once been red.
"Captain, for pity's sake let me get a stretcher sent down. He'll never be able to walk." Katherine's voice was cracking with distress.
Jean-Luc nodded, and ordered Data to lift the lieutenant; in this confined space under the sloping ceiling, the android's strength would provide the most effective assistance, and both of them would have to move back to get space to stand up. He did not think it was imagination that the discomfort of simply being gently moved fetched a stifled gasp from Reed, but as soon as he was on his own unsteady feet he put off the helping hands that would have continued to support him.
He faced the captain. As best he could manage, he stood upright, and his gaze was clear and steady, if a little sad. "Lieutenant Malcolm Reed – of the Starship Enterprise – surrenders his person to Starfleet custody." Perhaps it had been the long years of speaking nothing but rudimentary sentences that had lamed his tongue, but now speech seemed to come more fluently, almost as it must have done all those years ago. "I only wish – that history–" As he uttered the words 'surrenders his person' he had formally extended his arm, and Jean-Luc had taken the briefest and lightest hold of his wrist, accepting the gesture. But the sentence was never to be completed, because history was uttered on a sigh, and Reed folded up, crumpling bonelessly into the heap of distraught wolves.
"Far-ther!" Son shrieked.
Katherine pushed them all out of her way, but it was already plain that there was nothing to be done. For all these years, the lieutenant had waited to discharge his duty. Now it was finally done, and the effort had simply been too great. After a moment she rose and stepped back, shaking her head.
It might have been some relief if Son had railed, but he accepted his loss quietly. Strangely quietly, after the first moments of grief.
"Far-ther happy," he said sadly, sitting back on his heels. "Son saw. Many years waiting."
"Waiting – to be recaptured?" The captain spoke with difficulty. The knowledge of his own responsibility for this outcome was crushing.
"Waiting – honour. Lost. Captain – bring back." Tears tracked through the furrows of age on his face, and a big black and white wolf licked them off, whining. "Not want go Mh-mother without."
"Dear Lord," whispered the doctor.
"Can be with Mother now." He leaned over and began shakily moving the stones.
"One moment, please." Data put out a hand. "With the captain's permission, I believe we could create a more appropriate resting-place for your parents."
Son paused, and then shook his head. "Is among brothers. Stay among brothers. Would want."
"Can I give you a hand with that, sir?" asked Hayes gently. "I didn't know your father, but I think he must have been a fine officer. I'd be glad to help you."
"Brothers say – good man. Show r–rre–respect. Talked – Far-ther smile."
Hayes achieved a wan smile of his own. "I told him about my great-great-great-great-grandfather, sir. Seems they served together. My grandfather was one of his team when Enterprise first launched. Lots of family tradition about the NX-01 – grandfather Matthew always said Reed would never have done a runner."
"Never," said Son emphatically. He nodded. "Hayes – help honour." Then unexpectedly, he looked up at the captain. "Captain help honour?"
"It would be my privilege," answered Jean-Luc huskily.
In the event everyone helped; even the wolves picked up stones in their jaws and carried them carefully to the other side of the small cave. Data went outside briefly to advise Enterprise that the exchange had been safely made, but there would be a short delay before their return; when he came back, he told the captain in a low voice that he believed the wolves out there knew what had happened, because they were now lying down in absolute silence, almost as though mourning. Even the puppies were still.
The body they uncovered from beneath the stones had been dead for some considerable time, and had mummified in the dry atmosphere. Hoshi Sato had been laid on her side as though sleeping, her hair carefully combed and a fur laid over her. "No-tails come for she. Brothers pro-tect. Far-ther make ship die," Son said proudly. With gentle, reverent hands he lifted the fur aside, and with the captain's help arranged his father's body so that his parents lay as they must have done in life, with Reed's upper arm laid protectively around his lover's shoulders and her head tucked beneath his chin. Then the fur was replaced, and one by one the stones were piled over them with loving care.
"Done." Son was satisfied at last. "Will join soon. Brothers will help."
"Son." Katherine put a hand on his shoulder. "Please. Come with us and let us look after you in comfort. You have no reason to stay here now."
He was still kneeling beside the mound of stones, and when he looked up it was apparent that the effort of helping the reburial had worn him to exhaustion; but nevertheless, he looked more at peace than they had ever seen him. The wolves who had surrounded his father pushed around him, uttering little loving growls. "Family is reason," he answered. "Home is reason."
"But if I am not mistaken, the winter is coming," said Jean-Luc quietly. "Life must be very hard here, when the snow comes."
The old man nodded. "But if see sp-sprring, will be my spring. My home. My brothers." His fingers caressed the black fur that his father had lain beneath for so long, waiting and hoping for his honour to be given back to him. "Die, die with my own."
"Is there anything we can leave you that will make your life easier?" asked the captain.
"Have already given big thing: Far-ther honour. Son grr-rateful. Brothers grateful."
"In spite of the fact that it caused his death?"
A faint shrug, and a fainter smile. "Death – take him Mother. Honour – make clean. Die happy from captain."
For all his stumbling, poorly-pronounced speech, it was deeply eloquent of his feelings. Jean-Luc found that even he himself found words hard to come by as Son thrust out a hand.
"Not know no-tail thanks. Brother gives foot – is trust."
"Our gesture means something of the same." Gently he guided the bony hand into a careful handshake. For all its thinness and frailty, there was still strength there; maybe he might yet live to see another spring. "I wish you well."
Son nodded around at them all. "Good hunting." Then he lay down on the heap of furs, drawing the black one over him, and the wolves lay down and snuggled against him. "Far-ther sleep easy, Son sleep easy," he said softly. Then he closed his eyes.
The dismissal could not have been plainer. The rest of the landing party quietly made their farewells, and then, largely ignored by the wolves, they made their way out of the cave.
Outside, the sun was now almost resting on the shoulder of the mountain beneath it, and much of the world was swallowed up in shadow. The colours where the sunlight still touched were deep and rich, and the temptation was greater than ever to unfasten the safety mask and draw great breaths of the still, clear air.
Needless to say, nobody gave in to it. Careful not to step on any of the silent wolves lying among the rocks, they made their way back to the slope and Data guided them back to the shuttlepods.
They had almost reached them when they heard it.
Howl on howl, piercing the air as though to reach towards the remote and star-sprinkled sky: infinitely lonely, achingly sad. At least, so it seemed to their human ears; long rising and falling ululations of grief, ringing out to echo and re-echo among the lilac-shaded peaks of snow.
Maybe Son was there among his brothers, his head tilted back, his eyes closed and throat quivering with the intensity of his sorrow. Maybe he heard it only in his dreams, where he wandered again with Lieutenant Malcolm Reed and Ensign Hoshi Sato, and it was the sound of a life left far behind.