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It was enormous. Big as a horse-bigger-and mad as hell. There was nothing ungainly about Mama iislak. She was all knotted muscle and sleek, lean elegance. Even her elongated, porcine muzzle was dangerous-looking, drawn back from teeth that were about as long as Paris's hand. She snarled again and leaped upward, digging her claws into the trunk.

Can it climb? They had told him to seek the shelter of a tree, and he had done so. Had they underestimated Mama's instinct to protect Junior?

But even as he stared, horrified, Paris saw that the long, powerful claws could not support the creature's mammoth weight. Great furrows were etched in the trunk as Mama slid slowly back down to the earth.

Junior cried again, and Mama turned to nuzzle her offspring. It cooed and nibbed its little face against her large, furry, ugly one. A pink tongue, longer than Tom's arm, crept out as Mama Licked her baby.

The branch crackled under Paris's weight. Adrenaline shot through him and sweat covered his skin as the branch sank slightly lower.

Mama's head whipped up and she fixed Paris with those enormous eyes. She crooned again, then, nudging Junior along, departed.

For an agonizing length of time, Paris simply hung there. The branch continued to hold, but for

''*

how long? And were Mama and Junior really gone, or just waiting? How intelligent were the iislak, after all? Idiot that he was, he'd never bothered to ask. He breathed shallowly, not daring to move.

His neck cramped. He took a deep breath and slowly climbed back up to a seated position, edging closer to the wet trunk. Again the branch creaked under him, and Paris threw his arms around the solidity of the tree's trunk.

He thought he'd just stay there awhile, to make certain mat the danger had passed. Dawn wasn't that far off, anyway.

Dawn was, as it turned out, several hours away. When the sky finally began to lighten, Paris deemed it safe enough to climb down. His body, stiff from fear and its cramped position, protested as he descended. He hadn't thought he was all that far off the ground when Mama and Junior were down at the base of the tree, but now he saw he was several yards away from the solidity of the earth, closer to the canopy than the ground. Now that one of the suns was beginning to dispel the darkness, he could even glimpse the thatched roofs of the village huts. In the dark, they had looked like just so much foliage.

He made his way down carefully, slipping once or twice, and felt gratitude sweep through him. He almost laughed aloud as his feet finally touched that soggy, wonderful soil.

When he emerged from the rain forest, he found the village in an uproar. People were crying, others

were running with grim looks on their faces. Paris swore under his breath and began to run himself.

Everyone stopped when they saw him approach. Paris's pace faltered. He spotted Soliss, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"Soliss, what's happened?"

"You are still here," said Soliss.

"Of course I am," Paris replied. The villagers were starting to move away from him, slowly, as if he were dangerous. "Look, what's going on?"

"Where were you?" It was Winnif, and the challenge was unexpected. Her eyes were swollen from crying.

"Last night I had to-you know. I went to the edge of the forest and I got lost. I somehow got between an iislak and her baby and she treed me for the rest of the night. I can take you to the tree, if you'd like. The claw marks are this long. And why are you demanding to know where I was, anyway? What the hell has happened?"

Grimly, Soliss answered him, and Tom wished he hadn't.

"Chakotay is gone and Matroci is dead."

TORRES COULDN'T REMEMBER EVER HAVING SLEPT so deeply. It seemed as though she had just lain down when the computer woke her at 0600. Her whole body ached as she sat up and stretched. A slight pang went through her as her gaze fell on the empty half of the bed.

Tom. Oh, how she missed