Chapter Eight
Phlox
After three nights with my family on Denobula, I decided it would be best to return to Enterprise and relieve Counselor Agroterra. Though I knew she was willing to see to Crewman Rostov indefinitely, I could see my return was a relief. I was surprised by how busy she had been in my absence. It seemed a great deal of the crew had been experiencing emotional distress and had sought her counsel. She was glad to be useful, but the sheer number of crewmembers she had seen was nearly overwhelming. The exhaustion was evident in her face, and so I sent her to bed.
I rather enjoy Enterprise at night. Because I require much less sleep than humans, I am often left in solitude, and it gives me a chance to reflect after a busy day. I have time to run more extensive tests on my patients when I'm not constantly being interrupted by plasma burns and other incidental injuries. And I have time to feed my little menagerie, who often are my only company in the wee hours.
On this particular night, I was reviewing my autopsy of Crewman Summerfield. I consulted with T'Pol earlier in the evening and she told me she hadn't yet found a cause for the young man's unfortunate fate. I was certain I hadn't missed anything, but to humor her, I agreed to give it a second look. I was in the middle of a review of Summerfield's limbic system when the doors to sickbay slid open and Hoshi stepped through.
She was dressed in a casual sweatshirt and her hair was pulled back. However, my eyes were immediately drawn to the furrow of her brow and the hand resting on her temple.
"Hoshi. Shouldn't you be sleeping?" I asked as I fed my immunocytic gel worm.
"I had a weird dream and now a blistering headache." She rubbed her forehead.
"What was the dream about?" I reached for my medical equipment.
A small smile fell over her face. "I dreamt Ambassador Soval ran off and married Amanda Cole from the MACO's."
I paused and glanced at her over my shoulder. "That seems like an unlikely couple."
"You would think so, but somehow it worked." She shot me a pointed look. "Can you give me something for the headache so I can go back to sleep?"
"I wouldn't be any kind of physician if I didn't first examine you to find the source of the headache." I ignored her eye-roll and and scanned her with my tricorder.
I grunted with disgust, prompting Hoshi to frown. "Problem?"
"This tricorder has been malfunctioning all evening," I grumbled. "According to this, there are two of you. And you both have some increased blood flow in the medial cortex, which would explain the headache you describe." I sighed and put away the tricorder. "However, I've observed the same phenomenon in several crewmembers this evening, and it doesn't yet seem to be life-threatening. We will keep watch." I turned to locate a hypospray of analgesic and muttered to myself, "And hope we get rid of that strange craft as soon as possible."
I moved to inject her with the analgesic but paused when I found her staring at the tricorder with a thoughtful expression. "Hoshi?"
"When you scanned me with the tricorder, it said there were two of me?"
"Yes. I'll have to get Commander Tucker to give it a look tomorrow. It's been giving me that same erroneous reading all day."
When she shifted her gaze from the medical instrument to me, I could almost see the thoughts spinning in her mind. "Commander T'Pol has been experiencing the same problem with the ship's bio-sensors. Is it possible—?"
"Possible the erroneous readings are connected?" While the ship's sensors were not as detailed as the medical tricorder, they scanned many of the same biological readings and feedback. I mulled that over as I pressed the hypospray to her neck. "Certainly. The readings could be caused by a variety of phenomenon, and it could very well be something inconsequential. Still…" I trailed off and tapped the hypospray against my hand. "I should discuss this with Commander T'Pol."
"I think that's a good idea," Hoshi agreed.
I could see a mixture of curiosity and trepidation in her eyes. I gave her a reassuring smile and stepped over to the comm panel and pushed the button. "Phlox to T'Pol."
"Go ahead," she replied a moment later.
"I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but I was wondering if you could come to sickbay for a moment?" I glanced over at Hoshi, who was gripping the edge of the biobed. "There's something Hoshi and I would like you to see."
"On my way."
When the commander arrived a few minutes later, I was unable to tell if we had disrupted her sleep or not. She was fully dressed, her hands laced behind her back as she entered the room.
"Commander," I said by way of a greeting. "We made a discovery we thought you might like to see."
I handed her my medical tricorder, and she raised a brow as she began reading it, question in her eyes. Seconds later, her gaze snapped back up to mine. "This indicates there are two Lieutenant Satos in sickbay."
"But there is clearly just one." I nodded towards the device in her hands. "Hoshi indicated you were experiencing a similar problem with the ship's bio sensors?"
T'Pol nodded. "Commander Tucker has had his engineering team putting in extra shifts to determine the cause." She fixed her eyes on the data displayed on the screen in her hand. "It appears he was correct—the problem is not with the sensors themselves."
"Something is interfering with the sensors." Hoshi appeared somewhat anxious. "Maybe something from the alien craft we took on board?"
"We don't have enough information to make that conclusion," T'Pol replied. "Still, I'll discuss it with the captain in the morning." She handed the tricorder back to me. She seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts and speculations. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."
"Not a problem, Commander," I replied.
She nodded to us both, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. And then, hands again laced behind her, she turned and exited sickbay.
"Do you know what the worst part of this is going to be for her?" Hoshi asked.
"What's that?"
The lieutenant licked her lips and struggled against a smile. "She and Commander Tucker have had no less than three arguments—that I'm aware of—over those sensors in the last three days. If he was right and the sensors are fine, he will never let her hear the end of it."
Jon
"What do you make of it?" I asked.
T'Pol was seated across the table from me in the captain's mess while the two of us shared breakfast. I tried not to dwell on Trip's conspicuously empty chair between us. He had been taking meals with us less frequently than he used to. I missed his banter.
The logical conclusion is the discrepancies are related to the ship in Cargobay 2. She set aside the PADD in her hand and picked up a fork. "As far as I'm able to tell, the anomaly began at the same time the craft was opened."
"That does make sense," I murmured. I picked up a triangle of toast and forced myself to bite into it. The guilt gnawing deep in my stomach had eliminated any appetite I had that morning. One man was dead, another injured, and something was interfering with the ship's sensors – something that could very well put the rest of my crew in danger.
And it was my fault. I'd been the one to insist we bring that ship aboard.
"I haven't yet determined the nature of the sensor variance," T'Pol continued. "Ion and radiation sweeps of the ship haven't revealed anything out of the ordinary. Although—"
I cut her off. "It's possible if the bio-sensors are affected, the rest of the ship's sensors are giving us false readings as well."
"I wouldn't rule out the possibility."
"Have we seen anything else unusual?" I asked.
She blew out a soft breath. "Doctor Phlox has reported a dramatic increase of cases of headaches on board. He's concerned not only because of the sudden onset, but also because of the nature of Rostov's and Summerfield's injuries." She shot a quick glance at her PADD. "And Counselor Agroterra has been overwhelmed with crewmembers seeking her assistance with emotional distress."
Sighing, I tossed the toast back onto my plate and pushed it back. I picked up my cup of coffee. "So what do you recommend?"
She sipped her tea. "My recommendation is to eject the craft into space."
I considered that as I took another drink of the hot, strong liquid in my mug. I knew her proposal was the safe and logical choice. But for all we knew, the damage had already been done.
"No," I finally said.
T'Pol raised her brow. "Captain?"
"We don't know what we're dealing with. Even if we do remove the alien craft from Enterprise, whatever was released when the craft was open could still be present once we released it back into space. Besides..." I paused to take another drink of my coffee. "If whatever is causing the problems on board is still attached to that ship, I couldn't in good conscience dump it into space only for someone else to pick it up later and run into the same situation."
"You understand we may not be able to determine what is happening." I heard the cautioning undertone in T'Pol's voice, but there was no outright argument. It was simply a statement of fact. "And we could very well be putting other members of the crew at risk."
"I know that." Fresh remorse flooded through me as I thought of Summerfield and Rostov. "But we have to try."
She studied me, and then speared a bite of fruit with her fork. "I will do what I can to determine what is causing the interference with the sensors."
"Thanks." I shot her a grateful smile.
I made another attempt to nibble on my toast, and for several minutes the two of us ate in silence. When I caught her staring at Trip's seat, I sighed. I knew she missed his presence at mealtimes even more than I.
"He'll be back one of these days."
T'Pol and slid her plate aside. "I'm concerned about him," she confessed. "Even when his sister died, he wasn't this volatile, nor so withdrawn."
"It's a little different when it's your own child." I offered her a sympathetic gaze.
She turned away, refusing to meet my eyes. I wondered how much she struggled between her suppressed emotions and her maternal instincts. It worried me that T'Pol had hardly missed a step since her daughter's passing. While Elizabeth's appearance in their lives had been sudden, it had been clear T'Pol and Trip had both loved their daughter. Trip had gone to one extreme, clinging to his grief and wrapping it around himself like a heavy blanket. But T'Pol seemed to have gone to the other end of the spectrum, refusing to acknowledge it affected her.
My heart hurt for both of them.
"Is he speaking to you at all?" I ventured.
"No." T'Pol still wouldn't meet my eyes. "I should say, very little. He speaks to me when necessary, but for the most part, he has retreated from everyone who may be of help to him."
"I spoke with Callie about it." I fiddled with my now-empty coffee cup.
"As have I."
T'Pol's response caught me off-guard. My brow furrowed. "I'm surprised you went to see her. That doesn't seem very…" I fought for the right words.
"Vulcan?" she supplied.
"Very T'Pol." I smiled wryly. "It doesn't seem like you to seek out counsel."
She appeared uncomfortable. "I had concerns."
"If you had concerns, you could have come to me."
Her face tinged green, and I could almost swear she was blushing. "They were of a personal nature."
I eyed her. "How personal?"
"Very personal." T'Pol shifted her gaze to her plate.
I sat back in my chair and stared at her. "I know you probably won't," I said, "but as your friend, I have to throw it out there." I leaned forward. "If you need to talk to someone…" I left the offer hanging between us.
"I appreciate your concern." She lifted her teacup to her lips and sipped. "For now, meditation is helpful." Her eyes met mine, and I saw a glimmer of gratitude below the surface of her gaze. "And knowing I have friends such as you nearby is a comfort."
"I wish there was more I could do. For both of you."
"Let's focus our attention on the anomalies on board the ship. The rest, I'm certain, will work itself out."
I nodded, picked up my mug, and drained it.
I hoped she was right.
Callie
So, apparently not everyone was affected by the anomaly, but according to my full schedule, it sure felt like it.
I knew T'Pol and her team had been working furiously the last two days to discover the source but not much else beyond that. The captain called a senior staff meeting so we could all put our heads together. I wasn't sure what I could offer, but I arrived in the conference room and gamely plopped down between Trip and Malcolm. I had a PADD on the table in front of me as I listened to T'Pol's summary of her findings.
When she finished detailing every test and diagnostic her team performed, the captain furrowed his brow. "So we don't know much more than we did two days ago." It was more of a statement than a question. I heard the frustration in his voice.
"No." T'Pol's response was terse, and I could sense the irritation rolling off of her. "We are doing our best."
"I know." John sighed. "That wasn't a dig. I know you're doing all you can." He gripped the edge of the table and stared down at his own PADD as if willing it to reveal some sort of well-kept secret.
I studied him, admiring the way his biceps flexed beneath the fabric of his uniform. My mind wandered back in time to our trip to Aruba a few years before. I remembered his arms and chest, bare and damp as we romped together in the ocean. Warmth began to spread through me as I vividly recalled the feel of those arms around me, his lips on mine as he lowered me onto a blanket on the beach…
A soft hoot of laughter pulled me back to reality. I glanced around, unsure how long I had indulged in those playful memories, and was relieved that none of my tablemates seemed to have noticed my brief escape.
Except two.
Trip leaned over and murmured in my ear, his deep voice sending blood rushing to my cheeks. "He can see you, you know."
Brief panic washed over me as I snapped my eyes to Jon. He had noticed. He fought a small, knowing smirk, and then turned his attention back to T'Pol. Trip's quiet snicker only made my face grow hotter.
Trip would never let me hear the end of that one. Then again, it was so good to hear him actually laugh for a change, I was willing to ignore the overwhelming urge to shove him out of the nearest airlock.
What had come over me? Sure, I found Jon attractive. But to lose myself in fantasy in the middle of a staff meeting was completely unprofessional and unlike me. Shaking off my strange behavior, I focused on the PADD in front of me and began scrolling through the scan reports T'Pol had supplied each of us.
As the names of crewmembers affected by the anomaly passed by my screen, my brow began to furrow. Tucker. T'Pol. Lopez. Andrews. Williams. I began to scroll faster, the rest of the room fading to the background as I checked timestamps against lists of names. Sato. Agroterra. Archer. O'Brien.
"… We could try an ion bursts to test whether or not that will flag anything…"
Archer. O'Brien. Lopez. Williams.
What about the names grabbed my attention?
"… We'd need to clear out those sections of the ship while we ran the tests…"
Andrews. Agroterra. Sato. Tucker. T'Pol.
Slowly, the pieces began to fall into place. I snapped my head up from the PADD and caught T'Pol's gaze across the table. "T'Pol," I interjected. "What do you do every night at 23:00?"
She stared at me and lifted that Vulcan brow. "I meditate."
"Son of a…" I trailed off, my eyes once again on the screen. "There is a pattern."
Silence fell over the room.
"Care to share with the rest of the class?" Jon asked. He paused behind T'Pol and strode around to stand behind me and peer over my shoulder.
"Look at the last two nights." I pointed as I scrolled through the lists. "T'Pol appears multiple times in the scan reports–until 23:00. After she meditates, she drops off the list."
Jon's brow furrowed and he leaned closer. "Go on."
By this time both Malcolm and Trip were vying to get a look at the screen, and T'Pol was making her way around the table. "Several people on the list have had sessions with me in the last 48 hours." I pointed to a name. "Ensign Williams's boyfriend proposed to her right before we left dry dock. She's been so excited and obsessive about it, she's unable to sleep. And Lieutenant Lopez." My finger traced down the screen to find him. "He lost his grandfather just last week." I was beginning to grow excited. I stood, sliding the PADD to the middle of the table so everyone could get a look.
"What are you getting at, Counselor?" Phlox asked.
"The pattern has nothing to do with position on the ship, gender, race, or even species," I said. "Every single person on this list has experienced some sort of elevated emotional state."
T'Pol cast me a skeptical look. "Interesting supposition," she said, "but there is no concrete proof."
"Sure there is," I countered. "Since the day that craft was opened, I've seen at least three new patients a day, if not more. Before that, I was lucky to be seeing three patients in a day." I planted my hands on the table and studied the PADD. "Even you have mentioned you've noticed increased emotional reactions among the crew."
"Even I've noticed, and I've been a bit preoccupied," Trip put in. "Yesterday, I had to break up a fight between Thomas and Harris in Engineering. I knew they didn't care for one another, but they've managed to keep their distance for the most part." He frowned. "Next to the plasma injectors isn't exactly the safest place for two of my engineers to be tossin' one another around."
"When Phlox scanned two of me in sickbay a few nights ago, it was right after I woke up from a strange dream." Hoshi leaned forward. "I was definitely unsettled."
"So you're proposing there is something on board the ship creating heightened emotions among the crew?" Phlox asked.
"No." I shook my head. "Not creating." I nodded in Trip's direction. "Thomas and Harris already disliked one another. That just escalated." I ran my finger down the screen on my PADD. "Williams would be happy about her engagement, but to the point she can't sleep? It's understandable Lopez would be upset over losing his grandfather. And Trip—"
I snapped my mouth shut. I'd avoided mentioning the frequency Trip appeared on the lists. But I had become so caught up in what I was saying, I blurted out his name before I could catch myself. Next to me, Jon tensed, bracing for Trip's reaction. I bit my lip and cautiously looked in Trip's direction.
I was surprised when he didn't lash out. Instead he rolled his eyes and sighed. "I know, I've been an emotional basket-case. Or so I've been told, repeatedly. Move along."
Jon and I exchanged a surprised looks. The corners of his lips pulled up in a tiny, relieved smile. "It sounds like we have some compelling evidence to support this proposition." He glanced at T'Pol. "What do you think?"
She didn't respond at first. I could almost see the thoughts tumbling around in her head as she considered the facts. "It certainly bears looking into," she conceded. "I'm not entirely convinced we have the correct answer." She eyed me with a look I couldn't quite read, but I swore I saw something akin to admiration in her gaze. "But it would be illogical not to explore the possibility."
"In the meantime," Malcolm spoke up for the first time, "we need to consider crew safety and security. If we released something when we opened that craft, we need to consider how we're going to combat it."
"Before we can do that, we need to know what we're fighting," Jon argued. "All we know right now is something may be enhancing the emotions of the crew. Let's find something a little more concrete before we start looking at battle plans."
Malcolm appeared somewhat disgruntled, but he nodded.
"Trip, T'Pol, I want the two of you to find some way to isolate what is causing this. Radiation bursts, ion sweeps… Whatever you have to do. If there's anything the rest of us can do to help, let us know." He then turned to the doctor. "Phlox, you and Callie do what you can to hold the crew together." An apologetic look crossed his face. "I know this is cutting short your visit with your family," he said to Phlox. "I'll make it up to you after this is solved."
"Think nothing of it, Captain." Phlox waved off his concern. "The crew is our priority at the moment."
Jon nodded, though guilt still lingered in his eyes. "You all have your assignments," he said. "Dismissed."
