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impossibilities. I suggest we begin searching, keeping in touch by communicator.” Spock betrayed impatience, as he scanned the area again with his tricorder.
    “Any life-form readings, Spock?” McCoy wanted to know.
    “Several, Doctor, but I believe they belong to some of the higher animals. However, my reception is limited by the mountain ranges.”
    “We must be pretty far above sea level,” Kirk said. “The air feels thin.”
    “You are correct, Captain. We are approximately 2000 meters above sea level, and this atmosphere is thinner than Earth normal. The gravity is 1.43 times [45] that of Earth’s. You and Doctor McCoy should be careful until you become acclimated.”
    “Got any tri-ox in your kit, Bones?” Kirk asked.
    McCoy smiled. “You mean you trust me to give you another shot of that stuff?”
    Spock stirred impatiently. “I suggest we set out. Remember to keep your face shields on.”
    “Why? Doesn’t seem that cold, except for the wind.” Kirk said.
    The Vulcan gestured with the tricorder. “My readings indicate that this area, typical of the tundra ecology, is teeming with insect life, similar to Earth mosquitoes. Let’s keep to the edge of the valley—remember that the cave was located along a ridge of some kind. It could be set in one of these cliffs. Also look for mineral deposits that could indicate the presence of hot springs. The cave was heated by one.”
    “Spock, don’t you remember anything about the area from when you were here before? Landmarks? We could take weeks, just searching to decide if the Guardian put us down in the right place, or time.” Kirk surveyed the rough terrain, dismayed.
    “Captain, we were in the middle of a blizzard, without protective clothing or face shields. Doctor McCoy was freezing to death, and I was attempting to carry him. It was impossible to memorize landmarks.” Spock was more than a bit exasperated.
    “I guess that is asking a lot. We can only hope that the Guardian didn’t make a mistake. Bones, you go left, Spock, you can go right, and I’ll stay in the middle. Let’s keep in sight if possible. Let’s go.”
    By the time Beta Niobe splashed the patches of snow crimson, the three men met back at their starting place. Kirk and McCoy, too tired to talk, gulped rations and crawled into their sleeping bags before the stars appeared. Spock, more accustomed to the higher gravity, sat outside the tent alone, until the cold drove him inside. None of them had seen [46] anything that even hinted at intelligent life—only the desolate sameness of the tundra.
     
    Two days passed, and the pattern of the first day was repeated. Search the valley and along the face of the glacier, meet back at a prearranged point for food, then, exhausted, sleep. Spock was the only one not affected by the altitude or the physical demands of the search. The mental strain was another thing. The First Officer looked drawn and haggard, and McCoy suspected he wasn’t sleeping much, a guess confirmed their third night on Sarpeidon.
    The Doctor roused groggily at the echo of a distant combat, and heard the Vulcan dictating to his tricorder in a low voice. “... soil samples indicate that the permafrost layer is extensive, and the tundra-like ground covering shows the typical ‘patterned ground’ hexagonal configuration. Geologically—’ McCoy raised himself on an elbow.
    “Spock, what the hell are you doing? What time is it?”
    “It is zero-one-thirty-five point zero-two, local time, Doctor McCoy.”
    “Why aren’t you asleep?”
    “As you know, Vulcans can go without sleep for extended periods of time. I’m making notes on my tricorder scannings for a research paper, to be entitled, ‘Geological and Ecological Conditions—’
    “Spock, what the hell are you doing?” Kirk interrupted.
    “I regret that I disturbed you, Captain. I was dictating notes for a research paper.”
    “Can’t you sleep?” Kirk sounded concerned. “Bones can give you