"What do we have from the pack I salvaged?" Kirk asked, breathing heavily.

Spock rummaged through the supplies. "Several thermal blankets, ration bars, one phaser, one communicator, and an emergency medikit, Captain," he reported.

Kirk grunted, looking around. He looked up, his view blocked by a ledge no more than a hundred feet above him. "We need to start climbing," he said finally. "Wheeler." He looked intently at the ensign, "Can you get up to that ledge?"

Wheeler, looking a bit like a cornered rabbit, looked up. "Uh.... I think so, Sir," he said nervously.

Kirk looked at McCoy, who said, "He's not hurt bad, Jim. You just knocked the breath outta him when you tossed him over the side." The doctor radiated disaproval.

Kirk grinned at him. "Now, Bones," he said "I didn't have much choice." McCoy just frowned at him again, harrumphing.

"Do we have anything we can use as a climbing rope, Spock?" he asked.

With an almost imperceptible frown, Spock turned back to their gathered supplies.

"Negative, Captain," he replied after a brief search.

Kirk considered this. He was capable of making the climb without equipment under normal circumstances, but he had several broken ribs. Spock appeared unharmed, but there had to be something drastically wrong with Spock before he would admit to being injured anyway. The man had gone blind once and not admitted it until he'd started walking into things. Sulu probably had a concussion, McCoy.... wasn't exactly athletic. Kirk looked at Wheeler speculatively.

The ensign tried very hard not to look terrified. He'd been warned about that look. It meant he was about to be volunteered for something unpleasant. 'that's your job, Wheeler,' he reminded himself. It didn't help. "Sir?" he asked tentatively.

"You're going to have to climb to the ledge first, Wheeler," Jim Kirk said finally. " Probably without a rope. Can we tie those thermal blankets together somehow?" he asked, glancing at Spock.

Spock cocked his head, considering this. "The material would prevent any knot system from holding. Perhaps we could fasten them together in another fashion. If we had some very strong thread..."

"Any ideas on that, gentlemen?" the Captain asked, glancing upward again. He really wanted to get off this rock.

"Well, the medical profession doesn't run to leeches and sewin' needles anymore, but maybe we could modify my dermal regenerator somehow to stick the ends together?"

"A meritous idea, Doctor," Spock replied, ignoring McCoy's shocked look. "I do not believe modifications to the regenerator itself would have any effect, as the thermal material is inorganic, but perhaps I can construct something from the equipment we have." He began rummaging through the supplies again, extracting a tricorder, the phaser, communicator, and several peices of medical technology. He piled these onto the ground away from the others and promptly began to disassemble them.

Kirk sighed. "Well, we won't be going anywhere tonight. Rest up, gentlemen. Especially you, Wheeler. I need to know what's up there, even if the 'rope' isn't finished." He cast another worried look upward. That rumbling earlier.... just how much snow was up there?


After a long, cold night, and a climb that left his joints aching, Wheeler laboriously hauled himself up over the ledge, collapsing into a panting heap... and promptly sinking.

He flailed around frantically until he realized that he'd hit bottom. He quickly scrambled up, kicking snow around until he had a reassuringly clear patch of ground.

The loose stone at the edge crumbled and fell away, and Wheeler scrambled away rather faster than he had intended to. He looked around him carefully. The ledge wasn't really big enough for them to camp on. It actually seemed smaller then the one the others were stranded on now. But then, he was rather afraid to go near any edges he hadn't already established. It was hard to tell where the rock ended and packed snow took over. He looked up, and almost smiled at the view.

Mountains rose majestically in the distance, covered by fog and snow. Everything was covered by snow. Wheeler touched the wall of snow in front of him, and his arm sank into it up to his shoulder. He wiggled his fingers, but found no rock within his reach. No wonder the ledge seemed smaller. Wheeler removed his arm from the snow before it froze, then crawled carefully to the ledge and looked down.

Kirk waved at him. Wheeler wondered about the captain's compulsion to wave at people on ledges. He waved back, tentatively, and sat back to consider his predicament. He'd managed, barely, to get himself up here, but that had been when he was able to look where he was going. He had to climb down backwards. Or head first, but that sounded worse than backwards. There didn't seem to be any ledges above him, but then it would be difficult to tell under all the snow, anyway. He looked to both sides and noted a long trench cut into the snow along the side of the mountain. One stubby shuttle wing glittered in the sunlight. Wheeler's eyes were starting to water from all the white. He'd heard about something called snow blindness. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

Opening them again, he pounded on the edge of the rock until he found a place that didn't seem about to break off, then carefully crawled out over the ledge, backwards.

He folded his legs inward carefully, almost grateful for all those excersize drills they made you take at the academy. Particularly in the Security division. He felt around for a toe hold. Finding one, he lowered himself a little more until he could see his legs, them moved to another toehold, farther down.

He examined the underside of the ledge for something he could hold onto. He knew there was one, he'd used it to get up there in the first place. Oh. There it was. He moved carefully, testing each hand and toehold several times before using it. It seemed to take him ten times as long to get down as it had to get up.

Finally, he heard an approving "Very good, Mr. Wheeler. Couln't have done it better m'self," from the captain. He glanced down, then let go and dropped the rest of the way. He landed with an "Oof", remembering not to roll too far, and collapsing where he fell.

"You could have killed yourself that way," The Captain sounded mildly dissaproving now.

"Yes, Sir," Wheeler replied weakly.

"What did you find, Ensign?"

"Snow, Sir."

Kirk waited. "Anything else?" he asked finally.

"No, sir, just a whole lot of snow. The ledge was covered in about two feet of it. That was the bottom of the ledge. The side of the mountain was deeper than that. I stuck my arm into it and couldn't even find the side of the mountain." He sat up and opened his eyes, finally looking at Kirk. "There was an area of rock that was more or less clear, but I'm not sure you can reach it from the ledge, Sir. The shuttle seems to have cleared it when it.... bounced off the mountain, Sir.

Kirk winced slightly, and nodded. He walked to the edge of their little world and looked down. It didn't look as though they were going to be able to climb upwards, which only left one option. The prospect was an alarming one. All that snow had to collapse sometime, and when it did, there was only one direction for it to travel. Down. Right on top of his landing party.

Well, there was no help for it. They'd had to double up last night to combat the cold. Kirk was a lot warmer than the snow, but not nearly as warm as a Vulcan; he wasn't going to keep Spock warm enough to survive for long, even with thermal blankets. And they only had three of those, which wasn't nearly enough. Actually, he thought with amusement, they only had one very large thermal blanket, now.

"Looks like we'll be traveling down, instead of up," he remarked. "Are the "ropes" ready yet?"

"Yes," Spock replied, testing them. "We will need something to anchor them."

"And we can't tie them into knots. We'll have to hold them ourselves." He thought for a moment. "We'll lower Dr. McCoy first, then Sulu. Wheeler will be the anchor. Hush, gentlemen. Neither of you is capable of making the climb. Sulu, you're still having dizzy spells, you'd fall right off the mountain." Kirk gave them a stern look, then continued. "I'll go third, then Wheeler. Spock, you'll have to climb down unassisted."

Spock nodded. He araanged the loop at the bottom of their makeshift rope under the doctor's armpits, and helped him climb out over the edge. Long moments of uncharacteristic silence were puntuated by familiar oaths and grumbling as Dr. McCoy bounced his way down the side of the mountain, supported by Wheeler and Spock.


Kirk watched Spock creep down the mountain for a moment. He'd be here in about ten minutes, and they'd have to move on. Next time he was going to sit in that loop; his ribs were screaming. Sulu didn't look happy, either. He looked over the edge, seeing what he'd seen from here yesterday. Snow, and more ledges, blocking his view. He sighed. The ledge below didn't look too far away. It didn't look big enough to hold five people, either.

Maybe it was big enough to hold three. If he sent Wheeler, Sulu, and McCoy, the ensign could lower the other two before Spock and himself arrived to clutter up the area. But that meant he'd have to climb down unassisted, and he wasn't sure he was up to that.

Spock touched the ground and looked expectantly at his captain.

"The next ledge is too small for all of us. We'll send McCoy, Sulu, and then Wheeler, and drop the rope. Spock and I will climb down while Wheeler lowers you two," he explained, looking at Sulu and McCoy. "Then he'll lower me, and Spock will help him, and climb down unassisted again." He looked appologetically at Spock, who raised one upswept eyebrow at him.

"Jim, you're in no condition to--" McCoy began

"Neither are you, Bones," Kirk pointed out sharply. "And neither is Sulu. It's either support myself down this mountain, or support both of you. This is easier on my ribs."

McCoy looked unhappy, but kept his mouth shut. Spock began lowering him down the mountainside.


The sun was setting. There was still enough light refelecting off the snow to climb by, but they would need to stop soon. They'd reached a ledge that was barely large enough for all of them. "We'll have to sleep here tonight," he said, staring over the edge.

The ground was closer than he had thought. Not close enough for his aching ribs. His team made camp behind him and he watched the ground. On impulse, he took a largish rock and dropped it over the edge. It hit the ground and kept going. Too much snow...

"Spock," he said quietly, crouching painfully beside his first officer, "When we get to the bottom we're going to hit a lot of snow, Any ideas about that?"

"My experience does not extend to snow," Spock replied. He sounded tired. Kirk nodded

"Get some sleep, Spock," he said quietly. Spock didn't answer. Kirk walked back to the edge and looked over, watching the snow.



"Jim, what the hell are you doin'?"

"Looking for snowshoes, Bones," Kirk replied drily.

"Well, you ain't gonna find any in my medical supplies."

"You never know." Kirk stood, finally. "We can't travel on the ground. We'll sink through the snow."

"What," Came Spock's voice, somewhat revived by a fitful sleep, "are 'snowshoes'"?

"They're tennis rackets you strap to your feet, Spock. You wouldn't like them. Vulcans are allergic to anything silly lookin'."

"I fail to see the relevence--"

They are not tennis rackets, Spock," Kirk interrupted with the ease of long practice. "They distribute your weight so you don't compact the snow enough in any one area that it collapses."

"Ah. Perhaps if we had something to use as framework, we could build some." Spock considered this for a moment, then moved over to rummage in McCoy's medikit. The doctor sighed.

"Spock, by the time you're finished dissasemblin' everything in that bag, I might just as well not have it!"

"Doctor, if we remain on this mountain, the point will soon become moot."

McCoy grunted in response. "What are you stealin' now?"

Spock removed several lightweight, collapsable metal rods from the bag. "Splints," he replied. "There will not be enough for more than two pair of 'snowshoes' but perhaps we can find some more material. Spock arranged the splints into an approximate oval, using the securing straps to tie them in place.

Kirk tested the framework for strength, and pronounced it sound. "Not bad, Spock."

"Thank you, Captain." Spock replied impassively

"What about the insides?" Wheeler asked tentatively. Kirk grunted in response.

Spock rose abrupty and began pacing. Slow, even breaths fogged the air ahead of him. The others drew closer together to make room for him, knowing how cold the Vulcan had to be before he'd admit to discomfort.

"Can we pick the threads out of this thing?" Kirk asked suddenly, tugging his jacket away from his body.

"Possibly," Spock replied "The garments are designed to resist wear, not deliberate destruction. Why would you wish to unravel your jacket?"

"We could use the threads to tie an extra splint through the middle. Maybe weave them around it to form a net."

"The thread should hold for a limited amount of time," Spock agreed cautiously.

Great. Let's get on it and get moving again," Kirk ordered. "Not now, Spock, we need to get to the bottom first."

"It will be approximately one half hour before Mr. Wheeler is ready to be lowered to the next ledge. It will occupy my time, Captain. Your Jacket, please, Mr. Wheeler."

"Mine, Sir?" Wheeler asked, startled.

"Yours, Ensign," Spock replied. "You are working harder than anyone else, the effort will likely keep you from freezing for the brief period of time that I will require the garment."

"Uh... Yes, Sir." Wheeler took his Jacket off, handing it to the Vulcan science officer reluctantly. The cold stung his chest and back, and he turned to help the doctor into his harness. The faster he got done with this, the faster he could have that handy dandy stain/wear/weather resistant Starfleet issue jacket back.



Where was Wheeler? Sixteen hours later, Kirk stood staring over the horizon, hoping for a sign of the errant crewman. His eyes began to water, and he looked down at the grey stone. Wiping his eyes for the fiftieth time that day, he reminded himself no to do that. Spock would let him know when Wheeler returned, and that second set of eyelids prevented the blinding light reflecting off the snow from hurting the Vulcan's eyes.

They've been gone for six hours. They should be back by now

Wheeler and doctor McCoy had gone ahead to look for supplies. McCoy had gone in case of an injury, and Wheeler had gone because there were no other options.

Sulu still slept when he wasn't moving, and Spock would certainly freeze to death before he could find anything useful. He'd been practicing Vulcan excersize techniques since the last ledge had forced them to halt. Fascinating to watch, but patience had never been one of Kirk's personal virtues.

Worried and growing impatient, James T. Kirk raised his eyes to the horizon again. Watching.