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Chapter 4. Reed

There was nothing left to do now but wait.

Lieutenant Reed lay back in the chair, trying to keep his pulse under at least some control. He hated the sensation of the straps around his arms; it made him feel trapped, though the Hev'shori had told Phlox that it was for his own protection, to keep him immobile in case he reacted physically to the simulation. The Denobulan had appeared to find this reasonable, though his frown hadn't completely disappeared.

"There is no need to worry, Lieutenant," he said now, patting the patient's arm in a fatherly fashion. "I will be here throughout. And if I am in any doubt of your well-being I have the captain's order to halt the procedure immediately. And our hosts have been left in no doubt that I will do it."

Trip was standing right behind him. His mouth looked as though he'd been chewing lemons. "You sure you're okay to go through with this, buddy?"

"Yes. I'll be fine." He used the word deliberately, the emphasis on it aimed at lightening that troubled expression. "I'll see you again afterwards."

"Sure you will. And I'll even let ya pick the movie this evenin'. We can have somethin' with lots of explosions."

"I'll look forward to it." He managed a faint smile. He tried not to see the silent, faceless Hev'shori scientists making the final adjustments to the controls of the machinery to which he was now connected.

He was as prepared as it was possible to be. His training, his instincts had told him to prepare physically; it had been difficult at first to see the wisdom in Commander T'Pol's suggestion that meditation would be a better idea. Many of the weapons disciplines he had learned and still practised included mental preparation, however; it was not so great a step, and after all the trial to come was not going to be physical in any real sense.

He closed his hands around the arm rests and exhaled slowly. The contacts on his temples felt cold, but that was all. He wondered whether he'd get any warning; whether he'd be rendered unconscious first, and how long it would be before he found himself – somewhere else. And what it would be like when he did.

During the sleepless hours of the night he'd gone over the ship's database, revising what he knew of the major conflicts in Earth's history. There were so damned many of them, that was the trouble. How could he think himself into the situation in advance, how could he prepare strategies, when he didn't know what the situation was going to be? Although apparently he wouldn't realise that he was in a simulation anyway, so any strategies he might prepare would presumably be useless. Still, he'd have felt better if he'd known what he was letting himself in for.

He looked across to the other side of the room, where behind a transparent panel the commander of the alien ship was watching the proceedings. The blank, featureless face plate gave away nothing, though the reflected light suggested eyes behind the visor.

++"It is now time. We are ready, if your officer is ready."++ The voices of the Hev'shori suggested that they didn't formulate words in the same way that humans did: the effect was rather akin to the drone of bees, and he found it curiously soothing. Even the UT gave the words something of a humming sound.

"The experiment may proceed." Phlox's disgruntlement and unease were obvious. "But I shall be monitoring the procedure at every step. The captain has entrusted me with the lieutenant's welfare and I shall take whatever steps I see fit to safeguard it."

Maybe he doesn't want the goods damaged before they go up for sale. He tried to clamp down the bitterness and hurt. They were things he didn't need right now. 'Once a traitor, always a traitor.' The accusation echoed between the contacts.

The metal was suddenly getting colder against his skin. His senses were starting to slide. Just let yourself go with it.

The last thing he felt was a hand close lightly around his own. That had to be Trip. Damn sentimental Yank.

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