They came back to the hotel in the middle of the afternoon, Trip carrying a bunch of parcels of all sizes, having made his contribution to the fine arts by buying every outfit that T'Pol found aesthetically pleasing.

There were five dead hummingbirds in front of their door, and the corridor was littered with them. Trip left T'Pol alone in the room while he walked back downstairs to find the innkeeper and let him know. The man was nowhere to be found but Trip ran into the innkeeper's wife hurrying along with a box full of dead l'lieoihs under her arm. She stopped as she saw him, smiled, but her smile was forced, that of a hostess who knows she has to smile no matter what. He inclined his head in acknowledgement, thinking that if she were as garrulous as her husband that would be enough to get her started. And it was. "My husband is sick," she gestured with the box as if it provided an explanation "Can you believe that? Yesterday he's all fine and well, and this morning he's so hot to the touch I'm almost getting burned." She wiped a sleeve across her right ear opening, still holding the box. "And now, he's at the center emergency care. He'll be there throughout the night." She sniffed again. "We don't know what's going on but he's not the only one. The care facility was so full they had to put his bed in the hallway."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, ma'am." Trip commiserated. "I hope he gets better fast." He realized she was overwhelmed being alone to take care of the inn. The l'lieoihs were dying faster than anyone could handle. There was a brief respite after each clean-up but then gradually the l'lieiohs began to appear again in numbers that went increasing until the next clean-up. He would take care of the ones in their corridor, help her in a small way. Trip wasn't sure how large the population of hummingbirds was, but he couldn't believe there were many more left. As he cleaned up the corridor, knowing it was somewhat of an exercise in futility, his thoughts were on this new development. There was no clear sign that the illness of the innkeeper and the death of the l'lieoihs were related, but the timing was a little bit close for comfort. Perhaps T'Pol was right. It may be worth a call to Dr. Phlox.

"What the -!" he exclaimed as he entered the room. Men who were engaged in thermostat wars with their wives should try living with a Vulcan. Trip rapidly stepped to the wall regulator, bringing the temperature back to something that would not outright dessiccate him. T'Pol walked out of the sonic shower at that moment and he glared at her. "I should be the one without clothes on. Do you realize how high up you had this thing?!"

She looked at him with wide eyes. "I apologize. The room seemed overly cool."

Trip sighed, a little bit surprised that she didn't snap right back at him. That was one point on which they both had had to unhappily compromise. She felt comfortable at temperatures that sent him into a heat stroke, he felt at ease at temperatures that threatened her with frostbite. "Trust me, the room is not cool. It must have been the transition from the outside to the inside." When all three suns were out, as they had been most of the afternoon, the sandy plains became a furnace. Fortunately, deep in the sink hole and mostly in the shade or high up in the hills like the Ulaih Ruins, the temperature remained bearable throughout the day even if the suns did raise it. "I'll put it a couple of degrees higher. But a couple of degrees only." He glared at her to bring his point home but she was paying him no attention, already donning a thermal suit.

He knew something was troubling her at the tone of her next question. "Perhaps your basal temperature is elevated?"

He snickered at that, she was just upset with him. "No, my body temperature is fine, thank you. I don't have a fever. The room is not cold." Getting into a snit over the temperature in their quarters was another exercise in futility. They'd already had their share of tussles about it and she would keep raising the ambient temperature and he would keep lowering it. Another of those things certain that brought a measure of comfort to otherwise nomadic lives. The conversation reminded him about the innkeeper and he quickly brought her up on his conversation with the innkeeper's wife.

The decision to contact Phlox was quickly made and T'Pol went to town collecting the specimens to send him. Trip shook his head at the sight of his wife assembling a stasis box. Unexpected mandatory shore leave and she still had managed to pack a stasis box. She went outside and came back with one or several dead l'lieoihs in the box, he couldn't see them very well. In spite of his earlier cleaning efforts, there were now another dozen hummingbird remains littering the hallway.

He watched her carefully secure the l'lieoihs in the stasis field when a detail made him frown. "Shouldn't you be wearing gloves?"

"The stasis box prevents any infection." The reply quelled Trip's concerns. This time, he was the one who turned the wall newspadd on, trying to find the proper frequency until T'Pol stepped over and recalled the display she had programmed the day before. Ahrijht was at the top of the news. And the news were grim. The total was startling. In just two days the number of dead l'lieoihs had risen by leaps and bounds and it was evident that they had a real epizootic on their hands. Some stations also mentioned several handfuls of Iustreans had gotten sick, enough to fill the local hospitals, though newscasters were careful to emphasize this might be a coincidental wave of cases from a fairly benign and common winter disease. So that was what passed for winter on Lupsypso, thought Trip. No wonder T'Pol felt cold. He would make sure to be far away before the weather flipped to summer.

As noncommittal as they tried to be, the news confirmed that theirs was the right decision. Enterprise, with its vast repository of medical knowledge and one of the foremost physicians across several worlds, would be invaluable. T'Pol shut off the newspadd and pulled out her communicator. "T'Pol to Enterprise, this is a medical emergency. Respond Enterprise." At the sound of static that permeated the room in reply, she turned and cocked an eyebrow at Trip. He looked at her in dumbfounded silence.

Trip pulled his communicator out in turn. "Trip to Enterprise." He knew from fixing so many mechanical problems on Enterprise that the first thing one tried was the simplest, it could be that her communicator was broken. The same sound of static responded to his question. He flipped his communicator shut, looked at T'Pol.

"Probabilities are extremely low that both our communicators would malfunction at the same time."

"Let me try Malcolm," Trip replied. Once again the call went nowhere, ending in a surfeit of white noise.

"I will reach out to Ensign Adigo." This time the call seemed to connect, or at least not get lost in some network vacuum, but it remained unanswered. Now, where was the crew? And where was Enterprise?

T'Pol looked at Trip "Perhaps Captain Archer would know where the ship is?"

Trip nodded. He hadn't planned on seeing Jonathan at all during his shore leave, dinner invitation or not, he had wanted to spend it alone with his wife. But the disappearance of Enterprise was definitely an Archer-level issue. Unless it was that both their communicators were on the fritz. However unlikely that was.

Jonathan sounded like he was just waking from a nap. It was not like him to sleep during the middle of the day. Trip made a concerned face at T'Pol and the absence of reaction in her eyebrows let him know that it was not something she was concerned about.

Trip rolled his tongue against his cheek. "Listen, Jon, I'm here with T'Pol. Have you been out a lot since you went on shore leave?" He flipped the communicator on speaker for T'Pol.

"No, I've mainly been holed up here, reading and passing the time. Not much to do when one is alone." Trip let the dig roll off his back. If Jonathan couldn't entertain himself on his own, it only proved he was desperately out of practice as far as RR was concerned.

"Hum, huh, are you aware of the epizootic they're having, with the hummingbirds and stuff?"

"It would be tough to miss," Jonathan's voice was sarcastic. "I can't step out of the hotel without crushing a dozen of them and the cleaning staff is freaking out."

"Well, the thing is," Trip took a deep breath and jumped in "we're in a smaller establishment and the innkeeper just got sick. His wife told me their hospital place had so many cases they were holding them up in the hallways. And T'Pol and I think perhaps these things are related. So we decided to send a specimen to Phlox, have him check it out."

"Good thinking" Jonathan was thinking out loud. "That would fit under medical emergency, right?"

"Yeah, right. Well, the thing is, huh," Trip looked at T'Pol with the air of a dying man. "Enterprise is not responding."

"What?! Hold on a second." T'Pol and Trip waited silently while they knew that Archer was trying to reach Enterprise. When he contacted them again, they could tell by the strained tone of his voice that he had been no more successful than they were. "Any idea what's going on?"

This was a man who was showing admirable restraint. Trip was just glad he wasn't in the same room when he dropped the other shoe. "We tried contacting Malcolm and he's not responding either. Neither is T'Pol's stand-in, Adigo."

Archer's tone went from strained but restrained to uncomfortably tight. "Where are you staying?" T'Pol nodded in approval. This was the next logical question. Of course, he would want to meet with them. They were in different city centers, a couple of hours away from each other without access to private transportation. "Do you know of an eating place we can both get to?" Archer went on. Trip looked at T'Pol, interrogating her with a glance. She quickly checked her tricorder, came back with a name and address. Trip relayed the information "It's in city center 3. I don't know what the name means in Iustrean, but it says here they have Terran cuisine." He saw T'Pol's raised eyebrow from the corner of his eye, shrugged in a timeless 'what d'you want me to do' apology, he didn't think Jonathan would be in the mood to try new cuisines.

xx

"I demand that you release us. Your treatment of two Federation officials cannot be excused." If nothing else, Wygdeld had gall. Reed was coldly looking at the man behind the security glass. After their brief introduction to Hoshi, he had let the two men stew for the rest of alpha shift. He had thought that would instill some humility in them, but that hadn't worked too well. Wygdeld was carrying on as if he truly were a Federation Executive and Enterprise his ship mandated to serve. Malcolm was starting to get irritated.

"Let's take it from the top," he asked again. "Who are you?"

"I am Federation Executive Wygdeld and this is Freeholder Yonde. And you will hear from the Federation about this. I will personally ask that you are demoted and drummed out of Starfleet. And I will attend your court-martial!"

Reed didn't even bother acknowledging the threat. He looked at the prisoners with narrowed eyes. "What I'd like to know is how you got access to a private Federation comm system and were able to commandeer a ship." Well, he knew how they were able to commandeer a ship. The same way every thief did it. Brazenly and without any thought for the consequences. He inhaled deeply, squeezing the bridge of his nose "I mean, who set you up to it? It's not like the system is not chockfull with redundant security features."

The man who claimed to be Wygdeld sat down on his bunk, crossing his arms. "I am who I say I am. You can check it in the Federation database. You'll find my bio and Yonde's there."

Reed just looked at them. It was true that the two men's biographies were in the Starfleet and Federation databases. But he had a sixth sense about this. And he was rarely wrong. And even if he were wrong, which could happen even to the best men under the best circumstances, Wygdeld and Yonde would find themselves right back in the brig once Archer realized they were the reason for all the scorch marks on Enterprise, the poor ship now hobbling back to Lupsypso, the damage to its engineering section too extensive for Hess and her skeleton crew to repair in less than forty-eight hours.

They were going to be two days behind schedule. Two additional days shore leave for the crew, two days shore leave for the science team, two extra days punishment for Archer and the Commanders. Having to remain idle for two days after having had to take shore leave for three was a downright cruel joke of the universe. Reed could just imagine the mood Archer would be in when they finally pulled to port. All that free time and someone took his ship without knowing, even if that someone was Hoshi and his ship got damaged because of the two idiots who commandeered it. No, it would not be a pretty sight. Better for those two to remain in the brig. Actually, if they knew Archer, they might ask to be sent back to their shuttle.

He drew himself straighter "I don't give a rat's ass what the database says. I know you are not who your claim to be and I know you had no right to order Enterprise to Braputer. So you are going to tell me who you are, you are going to tell me what the deal was with the Nausicaans, and you are going to tell me how you got access to the Federation's private network. Do you hear? And if I were you, I would come about it quickly. Captain Sato has a mean streak a mile wide and she is looking at bringing back the practice of keelhauling. The doctor and I are trying to talk her out of it, but she's not exactly feeling well-disposed towards you. I'm sure you know why."

The two men just eyed him silently from behind the glass partition.

"Very well" Reed turned around. "I'm off for the night. Have a nice evening and we'll talk tomorrow."

As he was leaving, the security guard stopped him. "Your orders, sir?"

Reed turned around, looking at the two men who glared right back at him. "Nothing tonight, crewman. They're not hungry."

And he left.

xx

T'Pol shivered as they stepped outside to go meet Captain Archer. The temperature was still quite warm as far as Trip was concerned but all the suns had set and he figured it was chilly for her. "D'you need a coat?"

She shook her head "The thermal suit is sufficient."

Jonathan was already waiting for them, ensconced deep in a Terran-looking booth, seeming quite out of sorts. Trip sat next to him, T'Pol on the other side. Trip started talking right away "Ensign Adigo contacted T'Pol right before we left. They were deep in some cave in the hills when she tried to reach him. It seems that Enterprise was called to pick up some Federation bigwig and they will be back tomorrow. Hoshi was made acting Captain and she called Malcolm back on board for security reasons."

Trip could see Jonathan was seething. It was his ship and someone had taken it out without his permission. Whether or not he could be reached to talk about it.

"You said a Federation Executive?"

Trip nodded. "That's what Adigo said. To pick up some Freeholder or something."

"Hoshi should have contacted me."

"Regulation M-2552-2.0 is quite clear about the complete bar on communications from ship to Captain while the regulation is in effect."

"I understand what the regulations say, T'Pol, but she should have contacted me." That statement was met by a full set of raised eyebrows. Trip knew he would have to explain about illogical Human emotions later that evening.

"And you said they'll be back tomorrow?" that last question was directed at Trip.

"Huh, huh. Adigo says that Reed told him it's one day to the other planet, one day back. They left yesterday morning, so they'll be back tomorrow mid-day or something like that." Trip waved at the tall Iustrean lumbering around with a few empty glasses. Three-fingered hands were obviously a couple of digits short when it came to picking up empty glasses.

"When is our shore leave over?" Archer thought at least he had Trip and T'Pol to talk to. If he had found out his ship was missing and not been able to contact anyone… Heads would have rolled, for certain.

"We left Enterprise at 1656 two days ago. Regulation M-2552-2.0 will no longer be in effect at 1657 tomorrow."

Trip smiled. Of course, T'Pol would be counting the minutes. There was a time when he would have felt slightly self-conscious that the pleasure of his company didn't override her attention to this kind of detail, wondering if perhaps she wasn't having a good time. He now understood that was just the way the Vulcan brain worked. She could fully enjoy their time together and still coldly count the minutes till it ended. The two tracks didn't connect emotionally, like they would with most Humans.

Before Archer could go on with a response, the collective attention of everyone in the room went to the wallpadd that dominated the room, where it was obvious something portentous was going on. There were images of people wailing, what looked like rows and rows of Iutreans lying on the floor of what seemed to be some institution, then the spaceport came into view.

"Can we get a sound?" Archer asked.

T'Pol was already fiddling with the Universal Translator setting it up in broadcast mode. A bold announcement angled across the screen in fat block letters. That, they couldn't read. A male Iustrean was speaking, the translator using a female voice instead, which seemed to irritate T'Pol. Trip would have made some snarky comment about Vulcan translators but now was not the time. They caught the last part of the announcement.

"…fecting the entire region of Ahrijht. As of this evening, all transports from and to the area from other parts of Lupsypso or from alien sectors are suspended. The province is officially under quarantine. Now, that was the official announcement. We repeat for our viewers who are just joining us, the medical authorities have suspended all travel to or from Ahrijht. Nobody is allowed out of or into the city centers at this time. We join our correspondent at the Spaceport where hundreds of travelers are effectively stranded as of this evening."

T'Pol shut off the translator. There was a long silence. "Well, I guess that's that." Trip finally commented. They were stranded on Ahrijht, they, everyone that came down on shore leave, and the science teams. It didn't really matter whether Enterprise was back or not.

Archer's thoughts were somewhere else "Enterprise won't be able to come back." He sounded mournful.

"The quarantine is only for the region of Ahrijht." T'Pol pointed out. "Enterprise can select another geostationary orbit and still be in communications range. They would have to stay outside of the dedicated quarantine zone but that would not limit ship-to-shore communications."

Archer was antsy "There's no point waiting for the end of M2552, we need to get back to the spaceport as soon as possible."

Trip could see that the concept alone was almost more than T'Pol could process. She looked at him "Playing hooky?"

He shook his head. "No — well, you know what, in a manner of speaking, yes." He knew that if the circumstances were different, she would have no compunction about bending the rules but he also knew exactly what she was going to say. He jumped ahead, not wanting Archer to take his frustration out on her. "Yeah, but how do you propose to do that? Nobody is allowed out of the city centers, remember?"

She blinked at him, then realized he had effectively mooted Archer's suggestion. She looked at Trip with relief. He smiled back at her while letting Archer silently ponder the question. That was fine, Trip knew it would take time to come up with an answer.

But T'Pol was not finished. "How are we getting back to our respective lodgings if they prevent access to and from the city centers?" A stupefied silence fell over the group. Trip suddenly jumped up from his seat. "No matter what they want people to believe, it takes time to set up a full quarantine. If we hurry, we can get through before they finish setting it up."

The three officers scrambled to leave.