“Make it stop,” Hoshi begged Archer. “Please make it stop, Captain.”
Archer stroked back her hair. She closed her eyes, fresh tears running down her face. Archer leaned in.
“This will pass, Hoshi, I promise.”
“It hurts so bad, Captain.”
Phlox stood, picking up a hypospray. He walked around to the other side of the bed. Hoshi looked at him.
“Phlox, please—”
“I’m giving you something now.” Phlox pressed the hypospray to her neck, injecting her with a sedative.
Hoshi fell asleep, but continued whimpering.
“T’Pol told me about the incident. What’s wrong with her, Doc?”
“I’ve isolated a hallucinatory drug in her blood, but it’s breaking down fast. It should be out of her system in four hours.”
“She’d never intentionally take a drug, Doc, you know that.”
“I know, but she could have been exposed to it unbeknownst to her. I know she was with several ladies that visited a rather shady establishment at Ariebyl 5.”
“Have you checked the women that went with her?”
“Yes. None of them had this drug in their blood. I am going to hold her for observation overnight.”
Archer nodded. “Send her to her quarters when you release her. She could probably use a day off.”
Phlox smiled. “I’ll be sure to pass along the word. Good night, Captain.”
Archer departed. Phlox turned to back the monitor.
* * *
The two Klingons dragged the Ulio into a room and threw him on the floor. He skidded across wet cement and into the wall. The Ulio leapt to his feet, crouching and facing the Klingons. He grinned and twitched, his fingers moving as if they were working some mechanical device.
“Where is it?!” one of the Klingons roared.
The Ulio laughed gleefully, wringing his hands. The Klingon swung a fist at him. He ducked and tried to dodge them. The two Klingons moved faster, keeping him trapped against the wall.
“Where is it?”
“I hid it! You’ll never find it! You’ll never use it on anyone ever again!”
“Where did you hide it?”
The Ulio leapt to his feet, clasping his hands behind his back. He started hopping.
“I hid it!” the Ulio chanted. “I hid it! They told me to hide it! To hide it from you!”
“They who?” The Klingon grabbed for the Ulio’s arm.
The Ulio leapt back. He skulked toward a corner. The Klingons followed him. Even when he was completely cornered, the Ulio didn’t appear to grasp the danger of his situation.
“They who?” the second Klingon demanded.
He giggled, holding a finger to his lips. “The ones that aren’t seeing things or hearing things. They knew I’d get out and they said hide it and never ever tell. They told me to destroy the device when you weren’t looking.”
The Klingons looked at each other. One produced a hypospray from a pouch and grabbed the Ulio. The Ulio started screeching, kicking, clawing, and biting. The other Klingon grabbed his head, holding it still. The first injected him with the hypospray.
“No! No!” The Ulio sank to his knees when they let him go, holding the injection spot with both hands. Weakly he whined, “Not again.”
The first Klingon grabbed the Ulio under his jaw, yanking his head up. The Ulio stared at him with unfocused eyes.
“Where is the device?”
A smile flashed across the Ulio’s lips. “Gone. Gone.” The Ulio fell back, curling into the fetal position. He heard a buzzing that was growing louder. “The Sarops! They’re coming! I can hear them!”
“Tell me where the device is and I’ll keep them from coming,” the Klingon offered. But there was no compassion in the false promise.
The Ulio closed his eyes. The Klingon grabbed him by the throat, yanked him to his feet, and slammed him against the wall. The Ulio gagged, clawing at the Klingon’s arm.
“Tell me where it is now!”
The Ulio looked into his eyes. He stopped fighting. The Klingon let him go.
“Where is it?” the Klingon asked.
The Ulio stood tall and proud. “Corporal Artimiq. Patrol Unit Forty-five. Rank number twelve-nine-L-six.”
The Klingon smacked him across the face, sending him flying across the room. He charged after the Ulio, watching him try to scuttle away. He grabbed the small alien, threw him on his back, and injected him again. The Ulio screamed. To his eyes the room changed into a dusky forest. Giant mosquito creatures loomed out of the darkness, attacking him.
* * *
Archer sat at the terminal in his ready room, reading through reports. He yawned, sitting back in his chair. His eyes drifted to the door when the doorbell beeped and for a fleeting moment he considered not answering. It beeped again.
“Come in,” Archer said with a sigh. He scrubbed his face with his hands.
The door opened and Trip walked in, falling into a chair that was across the room. He was dressed in civilian clothes and looked as exhausted as Archer felt. He gave a marble a toss before speaking. The movement briefly caught Archer’s attention.
“You’ve been in here all day, Cap’n. Ariebyl 5 haunting you too?”
Archer shook his head. “How many bad parts did we get from that place?”
Trip smiled. “More than you want to know about. But my crew’s gotten real good at mix-and-matching working parts. It wasn’t a complete loss. Have you been in here all day?”
“So is the life of a captain.”
Trip chuckled. Archer laid a hand on his stomach when it growled.
“I think I should get some supper before my stomach goes on rebellion.”
Trip laughed. Archer stood, walking over to his safe. He began putting data disks away. Trip tossed the marble again, again catching Archer’s attention.
“What’s that?”
“Marble. Found it in the hall. I’m sure someone’ll report it missing.”
“I guess. Have you checked in on Hoshi tonight?”
“Yeah. Malcolm was with her when I stopped by. He had her in stitches, so she must be feeling better. Looked bushed though.”
“Should probably give her another day off. I wish we knew where she’d been exposed to that drug. I can’t believe how fast we seem to fall into traps some days.”
Archer closed his safe and headed for the door. Trip jumped up and followed him. The two crossed the bridge to the lift. Inside Trip tapped the controls before he turned to Archer with a grin.
“Are you trying to say space is dangerous, Cap’n?”
“That’s not a joking matter right now.”
Trip looked down, losing his grin. The lift door opened and the two walked down the hall. Trip contorted his face into a hideous scowl. He began limping, dragging the “bad” foot. Archer stared at him. He smiled when Trip pointed at him and began breathing raspy.
With a bad, grating, pirate accent, Trip warned Archer, “These ’ere oceans are leagues deep now, swabbie. There’s creatures in these ’ere waters that are the most hideous and dangerous ye’ll ever see!”
Archer started laughing. Trip grinned, continuing his act, using his arms to accentuate his act.
“And in one foul swoop they rip yer head from yer shoulders. And the sirens’ll sing ya onto the c’ral reefs, killin’ all hands aboard! Heed the ocean there, swabbie, she’s not a woman ya want to be presumin’ ta know, boy!”
By the time Trip finished, Archer was laughing so hard that he had to stop and lean against the wall. Trip curled his fingers, blew on his fingernails, and shined them on his shirt.
“Still got my touch!” Trip quipped.
He gave the marble a toss in the air, watching it fly up and come down. It landed in his hand and he felt the two halves turn.
Trip’s smile faded as he looked down, seeing the hall around him disappear into starlit blackness. His body became encased in an EV suit.
* * *
; Trip spun head over heels through space. Enterprise was in the distance and getting farther away fast. It was still close enough that Trip could see a large hole in one side. Trip felt cold fear course through his body. His stomach tensed into a sickening knot.
“Captain! Help!”
Over his helmet com, Archer quietly told him, “If I could, I would. You know I would.”
“Send a shuttlepod. Help me, Cap’n. Please help me!”
Trip looked back. He was headed toward a giant planet that was being ripped apart by volcanic activity. It grew larger as Enterprise grew smaller.
“You know the math, Trip. You’re too far away, we don’t have engines, the shuttlebay doors were jammed in the explosion.”
Trip looked back at Enterprise and then down at his forearm display. The flashing on it indicated that his jet pack was malfunctioning and he was venting oxygen.
“I don’t wanna die like this,” Trip whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut.
With a shaking voice, Archer quietly replied, “I am so sorry, Trip. I . . . ”
Trip’s eyes popped open. “I know. I know you are. Don’t wait until you get home to tell my parents what happened. Tell them today. It’s been an honor serving with you, Cap’n.”
“Trip? Trip, what are you doing?”
Trip reached up and unfastened his helmet. He died instantly.
* * *
Archer knelt next to Trip. His mind was having difficulty keeping focused, stunned at how Trip had been there joking one second and was now trapped in a hallucination that he was dying.
Phlox ran up with his case in hand. Two medical technicians followed with a stretcher.
Trip started going into cardiac arrest. His hand relaxed, releasing the marble. It rolled across the hall, unnoticed by those around him. It rolled along the baseboard, coming to rest in the crack of the door of Archer’s quarters and the doorframe.
“Trip, don’t you dare die!” Archer hissed.
Phlox grabbed a scanner to scan him. Trip gasped, opening his eyes.
“Trip?” Archer said, laying a hand on Trip’s shoulder.
Trip looked around, but he wasn’t seeing anyone.
“Oh, my God!” Trip gulped.
“Trip, look at me,” Archer said.
“Help! He’s dying! Help!” Trip screamed. “Dad!”
“Phlox, what’s happening to him?”
“I can’t tell yet. Let’s get him to sickbay.”
The crewmen pulled Trip on the stretcher and the four ran down the hall with him.
* * *
Archer sat on a stool, watching Trip strain against his restraints. He pleaded for someone to help save his father, who was again dying before his eyes. Phlox walked up to Archer.
“What’s wrong with him, Doc?”
“The same thing as Hoshi. He has the same drug in his system.”
“How is that possible? We left Ariebyl 5 three days ago!”
“I don’t know. That’s as much of a mystery to me as it is to you.”
“Could it be a virus?”
“No. It is a drug.”
Archer looked back at Trip. “You have to figure out how he came in contact with it.”
“I’m working on it, Captain.”
Archer stood up. “I’ll be in my quarters. Contact me when he comes out of this. I don’t care what time of day it is.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Phlox watched him leave. He sat down at a monitor, reading the contents.
* * *
Archer walked into his quarters, smiling when Porthos ran up to him. He crouched down, scratching the dog’s ears. Archer changed into a pair of shorts and T-shirt before he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.
Porthos trotted in, dropping the marble. The metallic ball twanged when it hit the floor and rolled to a stop against Archer’s foot. He looked at it and then Porthos.
“Where did you get that, boy?”
Porthos wagged his tail, waiting in anticipation for Archer to throw it. Archer finished and picked up the marble. Porthos started getting excited.
“No, Porthos. Go on. Go lie down.”
Porthos obeyed the command. Archer lay down on his bed, examining the marble.
“You know . . . ” Archer cocked his head to the side. “Trip had this before—”
Archer sprang to his feet to run back to sickbay. At the same time he felt the two halves of the marble move. He looked down, finding himself on the bridge.
* * *
Archer sat in the captain’s chair. On the viewscreen a black hole took up the entire screen. Enterprise shook every time a gravitational wave dragged across the hull.
Archer was aware of T’Pol, Hoshi, Travis, Malcolm, and Trip, but he’d forgotten what any of them were doing. He sensed T’Pol, on his left, moving quickly about her station. Travis was muttering under his breath, pulling on the yoke. In his peripheral vision Archer saw that they were all yelling. He saw sparks flying from control panels. But he heard nothing, only silence. This felt too surreal for him to react to it.
“Captain.” T’Pol’s voice broke through the silence. “We’re trapped in the gravitational pull of the black hole. We aren’t going to survive this.”
“Captain, what do I do?” Travis asked.
Archer tried to wet his dry lips. His hands went cold and clammy. He was facing one of the few things that gave him nightmares: being caught in a black hole.
“Captain, we must alert the crew,” T’Pol said.
Language had turned on Archer, refusing to let his mouth use it.
“And tell them what, T’Pol?” Trip hissed, “Why’d you challenge them, Cap’n? What the hell were you thinkin’?” he asked, turning to the captain.
Archer looked at him. Challenge who? He wanted to ask, but he still couldn’t find his voice.
“We told you not to. We were outgunned. Why didn’t you listen to Malcolm? Or Travis for that matter? He told you if we jumped to warp without plotting we could end up anywhere. Why didn’t you listen? He needed just one or two minutes to do it.”
Oh God! Another fear. Putting his crew in unnecessary danger and failing to understand his father’s engine. This couldn’t be happening all at once! Not even Murphy was this cruel!
“That’s not how warp works, Trip,” Archer weakly argued. Why did his voice sound like he was ten? “You know that.”
“You’re a captain, not an engineer. You think that just because your dad built the warp drive, you know something about it?” Trip motioned at the screen. “And now you’ve as good as killed us!”
Archer looked at the screen, whimpering, “That’s not how warp works. I know enough—”
“You killed us! Your pride killed us!” T’Pol screamed.
Crewmen suddenly surrounded Archer. They were pale, with hollow, dead eyes.
Malcolm pointed a finger at him. “How could you make such a large tactical error? You have to do every job yourself, don’t you?”
“You’re pathetic, Captain!” Trip screamed. “How many times has your pride, your ego, nearly gotten us killed?”
“And now you’ve succeeded. You’ve killed us!” Hoshi cried out.
Archer turned to run, but there was no escape. His dead crew, the crew he feared to let down, whose very opinions meant the most to him, had turned on him. Archer screamed as they strangled and suffocated him to death.
All the while, Enterprise was being pulled deeper into the black hole.
* * *
T’Pol ran around the corner, finding a small crowd gathered outside Archer’s quarters. She could hear Archer screaming inside. Two security guards were trying to unlock the door. T’Pol placed a hand on one of their shoulders, gently pushing him out of her way.
“What have you tried?”
“All senior staff codes. It won’t unlock,” the man answered.
T’Pol tried several codes with no success.
“T’Pol to Phlox.”
“Go ahead,” Phlox sa
id.
“Report to the captain’s quarters immediately. I believe that he may have come in contact with the drug. I need for you to override the captain’s security clearance to open the doors to his quarters.”
“I’m on my way.”
T’Pol banged on the door.
“Captain, please come out.” T’Pol placed her hand on the entrance way, as if to gain strength from the steel walls.
“Get away! I didn’t kill you! I didn’t do it!” Archer screamed. “You’re dead. Dead people don’t speak.”
“I am not dead.”
Malcolm pushed through the crowd in front of the room and tried to get closer to assist. Phlox and two technicians rushed through the hallway, forcing him out of the way so that they could gain entry. Archer was huddled under his desk, hugging himself and rocking. He watched T’Pol, but his eyes didn’t focus on her. T’Pol tapped the com panel near the headboard. Malcolm spotted Porthos standing in the bathroom door, watching the transpiring events. He walked around everyone and picked up the dog. Malcolm headed for the door with the beagle.
“Guess you’ll stay with me for a short time,” Malcolm told the dog.
Malcolm glanced back when he heard something hit the floor, but he didn’t see what had fallen.
* * *
Dropping from Porthos’s mouth, the marble bounced once. It rolled into the crowd around the door, ricocheting off the soles of people’s shoes until it hit the baseboard. It rolled down the hall to a junction. It hit someone’s shoe, altering direction, and continued rolling.
Halfway across the ship, Ensign Cutler was waiting for the lift. The marble hit her shoe. She looked down at it and smiled. Cutler picked it up . . . .
* * *
Archer and Cutler were the only two crewmen in sickbay, both trapped in their own nightmare. Phlox walked up to Cutler’s bed, unfolding a blanket. She was clawing the air, scrambling for a hand-hold, one hand held tight in a fist. Phlox set the blanket aside and grabbed her hand. With effort, he managed to pry her hand open.
The marble dropped from her hand, clattering on the floor. Phlox watched it roll to a rest against a wall. He covered Cutler with the blanket before retrieving it.
Strange New Worlds VIII Page 27
