Renaisterre
By Lieuten Keen
Chapter 25
Renaisterre
Day Nine:
There was quite a crowd that squeezed into the narrow tunnels under the Watchtower, trundling through the cold stone corridors that led to the large room that had recently housed explosive powder. Malcolm led them to the small conveyance he'd discovered by accident in the corner. Tucker was already there, attaching a portable power cell to the controls to bring the elevator online and they descended in the shaking contraption to what seemed to be the bottom of the earth.
It was an unremarkable room, and perhaps that had been the point of its austerity. There were no designs on the walls or expensive tiles decorating the floor. It was simply a smooth and barren space. The far wall looked to be part of the original mountain behind the Tower. There were no markings or protuberances denoting hinges or handles; there was nothing to indicate a door.
Theia was brought forward. After spending so much time trying to remain unnoticed, she shook with fear at so many eyes on her person. Andie reached out and took her hand.
"What if I don't remember the whole song?" she whispered to the doctor.
"You will," Andie promised her. "We never forget the words our father's left us." She signaled Hoshi to step forward.
The linguist removed from her pinafore a roll of embroidered cloth; it was the tapestry Andie had taken from the underground room because it looked different than the others for reasons she couldn't understand. Hoshi had taken a good long look at the artifact and with the help of the Communications team had picked out the extra stitches that had been worked into the design, and established them to be in place of music notes, had a music graph been worked into the design. Hoshi also presented a small device and pressed a button. The computer on board Enterprise had approximated the notes and a tinny sound rang out in the crowded room.
Theia drew in a deep breath, recognizing the piece. She hummed softly, closing her eyes to bring to mind a father with kind eyes who soothed her brow when she was frightened of the darkness, and whose voice would lure her into a feeling of security until she drifted off.
Andie watched her with a face closed off from outside interpretation. It wasn't hard to guess that Theia was remembering the father who loved her dearly. Judging by Trip's faraway gaze and T'Pol's pensive expression, they had no such problems indulging in the same reveries. Only Reed watched Theia in silence; his brows knit in a frown as he considered his own paternal forebear.
Opening her mouth, Theia began hesitantly; the words stumbling out of her mouth as though uncertain of their place in this crowded room. The memory of her father flooded over her and her voice gained in strength. As had happened so many times before, the walls around them shook, dropping dusty debris into their eyes and frightening many of the participants. Theia sang some more, about the white tower on the edge of the blue sea, about the light shining like a beacon in the dark from its pinnacle and about the world remaking itself and rising out of the ash of its former design.
And before their eyes, the wall began to quake and grind. Dust filled the air as the heavy stone partition simply faded away. Beyond the filmy barrier was a room that appeared distorted, as though they were viewing it through a sheet of water. Andie was the first to step forward. Reed put a hand on her arm and pressed ahead of her. Hesitantly he pushed his hand against the translucent barrier and moved through. It was like pushing through a thicket of trees, kind of scratchy and dusty, but easy to maneuver. Andie was right behind him, and then came Galen.
Inside there was plenty of room under the cavernous ceiling, and the air was filled with the sound of rushing water. Periodically along the walls were outlets where water was being sucked in or pumped out through other tubes. The room was cool and the air was fresh. It extended deep into the mountain behind the Tower. Andie was the first one to look up, training her flashlight on the frescoes and murals that adorned the walls, presumably all the way to the peak, but the light faded before it reached such heights. It stood to reason that this room was as tall as the mountain.
As soon as Theia passed through the entry, dams opened up and water flooded through their designated pipelines, bringing an onset of power to the room, washing away the darkness with a flood of illumination and baring to the eye a series of machines and consoles and buttons and dark display screens, all of which were lighting up with the power of technology.
"Oh my God!" Trip murmured with his jaw around his feet. He was not the only one impressed.
They all stood agape. The 'Fleeters had a better idea what they were looking at but the wonder was greater, not less. The Renaisterrans were agog and slightly frightened. Roland, who had spent the afternoon and evening in the company of the technologically advanced doctor, was drawing near to Lady Theia, offering her an arm to steady her shaking shoulders.
A light flickered on a pedestal and took shape in the form of a weary woman, drawing all their attention to her. Her gown was old-fashioned but her words were clear, almost as clear as the objects that could be seen behind and through her. She was a hologram.
"Descendants of the Watchtower, if you are hearing my voice then my world has come to an end. We were an advanced people who sought to know the mysteries of the world and beyond. We mastered the breaking of the atom and we accomplished rudimentary space travel. Our first visit was to the nearby moon. That visit did not finish well. We discovered a species on that planetary body that we brought back for study and experimentation. The animal was loosed in our space vessel and overtook the crew. Our ship was thrown off course by the chaos and damaged by an asteroid. To prevent any other tragedies from occurring, our leaders chose to destroy the natural satellite and put an end to the unknown species. The lunar body was damaged and fragments fell to our earth and led to the destruction of all that we know."
"She's talking about the space frogs," Malcolm whispered. "It sounds like they tried to annihilate them and wound up destroying their own world."
"An impact disaster from that attempt threw up a cloud of dust that choked out all life on this planet," T'Pol guessed, moving around the room and taking readings from the computer controls with her hand scanner as they lit up the room to dispel the darkness.
The holographic woman went on, telling of the efforts of their most intelligent minds to find a way to reverse the process. When they knew it was hopeless, many went home to their families to await the end. A few traveled to the farthest reaches of their world. Ancient Towers had once been built as communication beacons, but had fallen into disrepair. The desperate scientists made some adjustments to the Towers and hid away the seeds of life in a machine that would be opened one day when the world was ready to be made new. The machine was kept in operation by hydro-electric power, run by underground aqueducts.
Malcolm and Andie exchanged glances at that news.
"I can only hope that at least one of these Towers survives. You only have a short period of time to shelter those who survive with you before the Renais Project begins to remake the world, to bring back that which we lost and to start life again in the hopes that as a people we have learned to better protect the lives of those in our care."
"I don't understand," Galen breathed, confused by the strange things around them.
"Do you want the long version or the short version?" Andie asked him, flicking her torch this way and that and trying to take in the details around her. What they were looking at was the most extraordinary device ever created, meant to bring life to a lifeless world. As the name Renaisterre implicates, it is earth reborn. How do you explain that to someone who hasn't even mastered an electrical light fixture?
"The simplest version," Galen answered, feeling very small.
"Your world is dying, yes?" Andie queried. He nodded dumbly. "It's about to be given new life."
"What does that mean?" he asked. His hangdog expression made him look especially eerie in this weird world of water and rock. The shadows filled all the crevices in his face and made him appear older.
"You've planted a garden before, yes?" He nodded again. "You prepare the earth. You plant a seed. You offer it light and water and a plant grows." Andie waved an arm around the room. "Your ancestors were extraordinary! This room is neither a tower nor a mountain. It is a giant gardener that will plant seeds of life all across Renaisterre, and your planet will rise out of the ground and flourish again." She breathed respectfully. "They were brilliant."
"I don't understand," Galen fretted again, looking once more like a frail old man.
T'Pol tried to explain further. "According to this display, an explosion will be detonated in the atmosphere to burn off any residual radiation from the initial asteroid impact. The remaining material will drift down to earth and be absorbed into the ground, bonding with the nutrients in the soil and reinvigorating the earth. A second explosion will emit spores and seeds and other genetic material, which will be carried by the winds to the far corners of the planet, to land in the new earth and take hold in the reinvigorated soil. Plants will grow. The explosions will disturb the molecules in the air, creating a heavy layer of atmosphere that will descend in the form of water, thus reproducing the precipitation that will allow those new plants to thrive." T'Pol's voice was even softer than usual. "This machine will jump start the eco-system."
"I'd suggest y'all stay inside for most of that," Trip grunted. He, too, was checking out readings with his hand scanner. "It's gonna be stormy for a while. You should all be safe inside this room."
"We cannot all fit into this room for an extended period of time!" Roland burst out. He had been struck dumb by the sights before him. In following Lady Andrea, he had been exposed to lights that burned without flame and food that appeared practically from nowhere and small boxes that offered knowledge to those that knew how to use them. Yet this was the most exceptional thing he had seen in his whole life.
"I think this is a door," Hoshi called out, pointing to a mosaic of tile.
"Do I need to sing?" Theia inquired nervously. She stood at Roland's side with wide open eyes and even Dagmar, usually so pragmatic, had nothing to say in the face of all this.
"No, I think this just uses a button," Ensign Sato smiled warmly. She pressed the switch and the door rolled back to expose a long corridor with others branching off to the sides. "It looks like living quarters back here," she called out. "Lots of them," she added, wandering off to inspect.
"This data could totally revitalize our current methods of terra forming," Trip marveled. "Do you mind if we take some notes?" he turned back to Galen who was still struck dumb.
"What happens to us when those explosions are occurring in the atmosphere?" Galen questioned tightly.
"This place is a fortress. If you stay inside until it's done, you should be all right." Tucker admired the readouts on the power converters.
"You expect us to hide away in the dirt while the world is destroyed around my ears?" Galen shouted. He was growing more agitated; his face was turning purple.
Everyone looked around in surprise.
Andie stepped forward and put her hand on his arm. "Your world is already dead, Good Father. Your crops are drying up and your livestock are sickly. Your women have cysts inside their bodies that would not allow children to be born. In a matter of time the whole planet would just fade away." She looked deep into his eyes. "You have a rare opportunity to be a great leader in an extraordinary circumstance. Take the chance that is offered to you. It will not come again."
"Would you prefer to be the last king of Renaisterre, or the first king of a new dynasty?" For the first time Reed spoke. He'd been perusing the room with its incredible information. He felt as blown away as Galen looked. This dry, red, dusty planet with its inhospitable atmosphere and unfriendly inhabitants could be transformed into something vital and positive. New life could be breathed into its cold heart and it could live again. It may seem strange, too strange to state out loud, but he had made just such a transformation once before in his life. The choice hadn't been easy, but it had been worth the struggle. And there was something in Andie's voice when she spoke of rare opportunities and taking chances. She had made such a choice once too; chosen to leave a pirate bar and transform into a reputable doctor. "I would choose to move forward, if I were you, Your Highness," he went on in the sudden silence, broken only by the sound of rushing water. "It would be better than to be cursed for your inability to change."
"How much time do I have to decide?" Galen wondered.
T'Pol looked at her data pad. "The first detonation will occur in just under three days."
"That's not enough time to move everyone from the Castle," he considered the possibility. "Especially when the bridge was damaged," he noted desperately.
T'Pol and Trip looked at each other. "We might be able to help you with that," Tucker offered. A tired laugh slipped out of his mouth. "And I thought I was done with the hard part!"
"I would like to leave the atmosphere before the detonation," T'Pol informed him.
"Well, as long as there's no pressure!" he joked. Truth was he was less tired now than he had been yesterday morning. They were saving people from a dire fate and there was nothing better for the soul than saving others. "I hope y'all can pack light!" He informed the King.
Dagmar moved forward. "Most o' the peasants are already packed. They been moved once already. We'll get them moved in. The livestock'll come next. That'll give you time to pack up yer fancy wimmin and castle belongings," she informed the king. "But you're gonna hafta hurry! I'll need some place to set up my kitchen." The cook nudged the king into motion. "Hurry up, Highness! No time for dillydally!" The coarse woman wouldn't take no for an answer, just brushed the king before her.
"He may have lost an advisor in this mess, but I think he just gained a den mother," Reed snorted.
"That elevator won't hold a million journeys," Tucker sighed. "I think we ought to knock out the car and put in a ladder or a set of stairs." He moved off to check on their way out.
"Lady Theia, I can show you how to make sense of the computer readings," Hoshi called out, reappearing from another tunnel. She drew the woman near and began to talk about the system that was slowly blinking into life. Roland hovered over her shoulder and Ensign Sato started including him in the tutorial.
"What are you thinking?" Reed asked. The doctor looked wistful.
"That I'm almost sorry to go," Andie replied. "How marvelous would it be to watch a new world start from scratch?"
"You could probably stay. They'd probably treat you like a queen," he told her dryly.
"I'm not a title; I'm a doctor," she retorted. "And I like to help people and I can do that best in a state of the art facility. That's even better than watching history unfold."
She wasn't even tempted; that was surprising. "Most people dream of the chance of becoming royalty," he informed her.
"Most people aren't happy with who they are," she whispered conspiratorially. "They think if they can change themselves they'll be all right."
"You don't want to change yourself?"
"I've worked too hard to reach this much perfection, Reed. To change it now would just be a step backward."
There was that sassy smirk again.
"What about you, Reed?"
"I was born perfect," he informed her, choking back a smile. "I didn't have to work hard to achieve anything."
"Lazy bastard," she snorted, moving ahead of him to inspect another console. He found he was smiling when she stepped away.
Starship Enterprise
Day Twelve
"I can see that the experiment was a success, but I do not intend to go to warp with an untested material holding the ship together!" T'Pol's voice was growing strident. They were arguing about the transparent section of hull near the main plasma exhausts. Tucker was being especially stubborn today; he was always particularly ornery when he was tired. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out already.
"You still want us out of this system by tomorrow afternoon? Because we'll have to work around the clock to get enough bulk heads down to fix the hole that ain't broke!" By 'we' Tucker meant the engineering team, which had already been run ragged repairing the soft seals around the airlocks and the phase canon assemblies, in addition to formulating a crude seal over the Bridge to temporarily replace the skylight, not to mention the work the rest of the crew had been doing to repair the bridge and transport the inhabitants across the gorge. Most of his people were perfectly happy to work their butts off if it meant they didn't have to go back down to the cold, dusty planet, but that didn't mean that he wanted them to fall down on the job.
"I do, Commander," T'Pol responded. "Take extra personnel from any department you see fit in order to get this done." She started to walk away.
"I'd like to hear it from the captain," Trip repeated. He hadn't seen the captain since he woke up the morning after the ktiryas had rid their ship of space frogs, and he was beginning to worry.
"The captain has suffered a terrible injury," T'Pol responded. "The doctor is not allowing visitors at this time."
"He might like some visitors, or at least a status report," Trip pointed out.
"The doctor has sedated the captain to mitigate his pain until her medical equipment is back online and a thorough exam may be completed."
"I didn't realize his injuries were so severe," Trip answered in a subdued voice.
"Until Sickbay is fully operational, it would be difficult to ascertain how serious his injuries are. Our first priority is getting the ship repaired enough to fly away from the impending Renais Project. Everything else is secondary. Even the captain can wait another day."
"I'd like to see the captain, even if he's not awake," Trip pressed.
"I'll pass your request on to the doctor," T'Pol replied tiredly. She turned on her heel and moved down the corridor.
Trip watched her go with a heavy heart. She hadn't been herself recently. It could be the disruption to her routine, he noted. Many of the crew had been ousted from their quarters until Engineering could check them out thoroughly for leaks or breaks in power lines. T'Pol and Andie had been among the first to suggest that he forego repairs to their quarters; they would both be bunking down in Sickbay for the time being and it wasn't a priority. In spite of its prominent position in the long corridor leading from Sickbay, he was looking forward to hitting his own bunk pretty soon. He vowed they would be returned to normal as quickly as he could manage as he took a deep breath and mentally challenged himself to get back to work.
Renaisterre
Day Thirteen
Malcolm stood on the cold mountainside and refrained from checking his chronometer again. Finally he spotted his prey; she was riding esthers at breakneck speed across the Great Dry Plain with Captain Roland. She wore a long dress to comply with their customs, but she rode astride like a man. Her hair had come loose and streamed over her shoulders and he didn't have to be close to know that her cheeks and nose were dark pink with the chill in the air. She was also laughing, something he hadn't seen her do very often.
Just before they reached the final hill, the riders slowed and let their mounts catch their breath. Andie caught sight of the pair that waited and leaned over to thank her escort as she slid off the slender animal and moved to stand next to Malcolm. "Is it time to go?" she inquired brightly. "How was the transfer?"
Malcolm and Theia had been overseeing the removal of the ktiryas from the ship. The animals had a natural affinity for the sweet female and had stalked through the corridors at her side to the transporter pad without injuring any of the crew. It had been nerve-wracking for Reed and he was glad it was finally over. "Everything went according to plan," he admitted tiredly.
"My lady?" Theia stepped forward. "I have something for you. It is only a small token."
"You didn't have to get me anything," Andie refuted gently.
"One moment, my lady," Roland stopped her. "Lady Theia would never forgive you if you refused her gift. It was commissioned from the blacksmith by her father many years previously."
The object was a metal rendering of a ktirya, crouched and ready for battle. It brightened Andie's face once again. "Offer my thanks to your betrothed. It is lovely."
"Thank you, Lady Andrea," Roland spoke honestly. "I would have you know that in honor of our union, the King has answered Theia's boon, and sentenced Sadiré to life in prison." He looked at his feet and flushed as his intended took his arm. "Theia was loathe to lose the only family she had left, even if it is only that woman."
Andie sighed. "This world is new, Roland. What you do leaves footprints. Don't sully the future. Treat everyone well."
"As you wish, my lady," he answered. He leaned over and kissed the back of her hand. The women exchanged hugs and kisses, and to Malcolm's embarrassment, Theia leaned over and kissed his cheek as well.
Malcolm just remained quiet, watching the captain of the guard lift Theia to the saddle of his mount in order to lead her back to the Watchtower. "What was that about a betrothal?"
Andie grimaced. "Galen named Roland the new Steward of the Tower. He offered him Theia's hand in marriage."
"You sound upset about that."
"He handed her over like she was property! I have a problem with that! Unfortunately Theia thinks it's fabulous. It really took the steam out of my feminist outrage." She kicked a rock under her foot with more vigor than it deserved. "They can't even be certain there will be a need to keep an eye on the Tower when all is said and done!" She looked like she might be working up a full head of steam, so he said something to head her off in another direction.
"You know I've been looking over the prophecy given to you by Berthelde," Malcolm went on. "She was more accurate than I would have presumed."
Andie looked dubious. "You actually paid attention to her prophecy?"
"She said that the woman of shadows, whom we all agree is you, will bring light to the darkness. With your help the Renais Project was discovered and will remake the world. Commander T'Pol says it'll be like a giant globe of light spewing from the top of the Tower. I guess we know where everyone got their ideas for all the tapestries, eh?"
Andie didn't seem happy to be included in prophecy. "How do you know Theia isn't the woman of shadows? She lived in secrecy for a long time."
"She said the woman of shadows will bear them all children. You spent the last two days removing cysts from the ovaries of the women who live here. They will most likely bear children in the upcoming days, and they owe that to you."
"Or someone else will midwife them and bring children forth, and that's what it means," Andie argued.
"Beasts will feast on the flesh of the cold and unnamed," Malcolm went on, enjoying prodding her. "I think that refers to the space frogs and the ktiryas who ate them."
"The ktiryas were bred to defend the Watchtower. They could eat any number of things and someone would find a way to call it cold or refuse to acknowledge a name or whatever." She waved her hand dismissively.
"They will hold together until the sea...That could reference a musical note, the high cee, and reference the note required to bring down the barrier on the harmonic resonance field."
"You forgot about 'him drowning in her'," Andie snorted.
"So you do remember the prophecy!" Reed teased. "It wasn't until the parts about 'divided personality' that remains unfulfilled. Of course, that was when Berthelde grabbed your hand and spoke directly to you and presumably about you, rather than the company at large."
"Now you're just talking crazy," Andie scoffed.
"I thought you believed in prognostication?"
"Berthelde spouted vagaries that could be applied to a myriad of situations," Andie explained. "It probably had nothing to do with me."
"But you had your fortune read once before and you seem to believe that?"
"My other prophet had impeccable credentials! Berthelde came from a family line with severe mental illness, and lived her life under not one, but two women who wielded herbs with deadly intent! She was a disturbed woman working under fear of death or punishment from her jailors!"
"You think she's crazy?"
"Crazy isn't a word I'd use officially. But I think there's plenty of doubt."
"You find it more likely that an advanced race knew that you would be a guest on Enterprise at the exact moment we fell out of the sky, came to the aid of an attacking beast, and saved a king from the bastard daughter of the steward out to steal the ancient secrets for herself than a series of random coincidences?"
"You think that the random coincidence of all those things is more likely than a predetermination by a higher power?"
"Yes! You are a doctor; you should be grounded in science! Your adherence to fate or destiny is perplexing! " He almost tore his hair out. "How does one get impeccable precognition credentials?" Clearly the lieutenant thought the idea was ludicrous.
"By seeing both time and space, I suppose," she answered airily.
"I thought you didn't believe in time travel. You were very specific about Archer's encounters with Daniels."
"I never said I didn't believe!"
"Your disdain was clear."
"I don't believe that one crewman, whose death was witnessed by other crewmen, came back to life and started whispering the secrets of the future in the captain's ear! Just because I don't believe in zombies doesn't mean I don't believe in time travel!"
"You said the Vulcan Science Directorate claimed time travel was impossible."
"They did claim time travel was impossible!" She was shrieking now and Reed was pleased with himself.
"Do you think it is?"
"I think there's a whole lot of weird, wacky stuff in the worlds," Andie told him.
"Like a fortune teller with impeccable credentials?" Malcolm pressed with interest. "Tell me, Doctor, what was fated in your cards?"
"They didn't use cards," she muttered. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. When it seemed he wasn't going to budge until she coughed up the answer, she exhaled noisily. "The same gibberish that other fortune tellers speak; I'm going to live my life and make a love match! You know, the usual hokum and phooey!"
"A love match?" Malcolm noted with interest. "Did you get a name to make it easier to find this cosmic lover?"
"All I know is, the mate can fly."
Malcolm chuckled. "That should make him easy to find!" He flicked open his communicator and called for the transport to begin.
"You'd think so, but she's proving to be really elusive!" Andie added just before the shimmer of transporter lights took them up to the stars. She was rewarded for her timing by the sharp jerk of his head that happened on the planet and on the starship. She bit her lip to stop grinning.
They reappeared in the transporter alcove, where the controls were manned by a very tired Commander Tucker.
"She?" Malcolm uttered in surprise.
"I told you: Hokum and phooey," Andie said very clearly. She ruined the smug moment by giggling.
"I thought your source was reliable," Malcolm grumbled, pleased that she was teasing him. She was definitely relaxing in his company now.
Tucker almost got the chance to ask what was going on, but a call came in over the intercom.
"Commander T'Pol to Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed!"
Tucker stepped to the wall speaker. "Tucker here," he responded. "I've got Reed and Andie on board."
"Report to the Bridge, Commander, Lieutenant. We're preparing to leave orbit."
"On our way," he acknowledged, glancing at Malcolm. Reed nodded and stepped off the pad, automatically matching pace with the engineer.
Starship Enterprise:
Command Center: aka Temporary Bridge
T'Pol stood at the science console as the two men arrived to take their stations. "Set a course outside the system, Mr. Mayweather," she commanded.
"Aye, sir," Travis replied. He began pressing buttons into the temporary navigation station. He was relieved when the ship responded.
"What is the countdown?" she inquired at large.
"Ten minutes, Commander," Ensign Sato responded.
They waited on the outskirts of the system with bated breath. The first explosion knocked visual sensors offline. Computer controls brought them back in short order. The ugly red planet was still in place, although record changes were occurring in the atmosphere.
"Renaisterre is still in existence," T'Pol sighed.
"I'm still reading life forms!" Sato added with relief in her voice as well.
"Make a note in the log to recommend a revisit to the planet after some time has passed. I would like to see how they fare in the long run. Mr. Mayweather, plot a course. We'll need to resupply as soon as we can, so keep an eye out for any options out there." T'Pol paced behind the captain's chair.
"Aye, sir!" he responded. To pick a direction from all possible directions was something he enjoyed to a ridiculous degree. He could take them where they had never gone before. He might take them somewhere amazing. The stars were an open book. Travis plotted a course and the ship moved off.
"Commander Tucker, I would like you to keep an eye on engineering for two hours. If there are no further problems with our seals or propulsion, you are to be relieved. You will not report for duty until tomorrow morning." Her tone softened. "Get some sleep, Commander. That's an order."
"Yes, ma'am!" Trip agreed. He was going to have a very long week. A nap sounded like an excellent way to start the problem.
"I will be in Sickbay," T'Pol noted. "Mr. Reed, you have command of the bridge."
"Aye, Commander!" Malcolm responded. He watched the Vulcan go with a heavy heart. Her words reminded him that the captain was lying in Sickbay because he had been unable to keep him safe. He could only hope that the captain would not hold his incompetence against him.
Sickbay
22:30 hours
T'Pol's spot check after leaving the planet had been hours ago, but she reentered the medical ward at this late hour hoping to catch the doctor alone. Corporal Finn was still recovering from his radiation induced illness; the entire crew was scheduled to receive inoculations starting tomorrow. Corporal Parsons was resting with her knee in a brace. She would need some minor therapy to get her knee back into proper health. A few others had made themselves as comfortable as possible on portable cots. There was one body that T'Pol could not find. She made her way to the CMO's office.
Surprise drove Andie to her feet when the door opened. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon!" she greeted the woman. "I told you I wouldn't have a more detailed answer until tomorrow."
"What is his condition?" T'Pol asked politely.
"FUBAR," Andie answered glumly. "Tucker came in to see him before he headed off to his bed. I moved him to the isolation ward. I didn't think he should have to recuperate in the same room as the others."
"I am certain the captain would appreciate your discretion."
"Like I said, I can get you a more detailed answer tomorrow. He's out of imminent danger but I'm not sure he'll walk again any time soon."
"I wanted to discuss something else with you, Doctor."
"Is this about the space frog residue? Because I think we've got that licked now. Very few cases of dermal irritation came in today and…"
"It is not about the space frogs."
"Is this about Ensign Carter's rash? Because that should be solved with an analgesic cream, but she seems determined to tough it out without me. I had to get confirmation from…"
"Doctor, I..."
"Is this about...?"
"DOCTOR!"
The unexpected outburst sucked the wind out of Andie's sails and she sank into the chair behind the desk. "Maybe I should shut up and let you talk."
In spite of her need to speak with the physician, T'Pol hesitated. Her hands were still trembling. "You lived among Vulcans for a period of time. Have you ever heard of something called Pon Farr?"
"It's the Vulcan mating drive, characterized by a blood fever. You either mate or you die." Andie looked closer at T'Pol. "Why do you ask?" she queried as the blood left her face.
T'Pol inhaled slowly and let the air out just as unhurriedly. "I thought you should know."
Andie started flicking through data on her computer. "I seem to recall an entry that says you're married. I'll have the Bridge change course to Vulcan."
"No," T'Pol refused. "We will not be going to Vulcan."
"Then I'll arrange to have your husband brought here," Andie suggested.
"That would be awkward," the Vulcan stated simply. "We are dissolving our union."
Andie stopped fussing with her keyboard. "I'm sorry to hear that. Divorces are still rather uncommon, aren't they?"
"They are," the Vulcan agreed.
The physician smoothed out her blue lab coat. "I'm sure the Vulcan Medical Board has encountered this sort of thing before. They must have a representative to send?"
"I am not going to involve Vulcan in this matter."
Startled, Andie could only gape. "Um, what?"
The words came out slowly. "If anyone on Vulcan finds out about the captain's injury, they will report the matter directly to Earth. The Command Council will remove Archer from his post as captain, declaring him unfit. He will lose this ship. It is his father's ship and it means more to him than anything."
"That may not be so bad," Andie pointed out. "He would get the medical and psychological treatment that he would need for his recovery." She looked around. "The Sickbay on Enterprise is state of the art, but I'm not equipped for long-term or specialized needs.
The chin lifted stubbornly. "If there is no other option, then we will confer with the Command Council. But until you can assure me that you have exhausted every option to cure him, we will keep both of these matters between us. By us, I mean you and me, and no one else."
"You want to keep this from the rest of the crew? And the senior staff?"
"Until the matter is determined to be outside of your control, I want you to control the matter."
Andie tilted her head to one side and looked very hard at T'Pol. "You can't let your own health suffer in exchange for Archer's career."
The Vulcan managed to look both stubborn and fragile. "I owe him a debt." That was all she needed to explain, she felt. Clearing her throat she went on, "Two years ago I was infected with a virus that triggered Pon farr-like symptoms. Phlox treated me with pharmaceuticals and I believe that between you and I we can create something that will alleviate the symptoms, if not eradicate them altogether."
"You think you and I, in our spare time, are going to create an antidote to something that has vexed the best Vulcan scientific minds for thousands of years?" Andie shook her head. "This is crazy."
"I want to give Captain Archer the benefit of time. If his condition is permanent, or my condition worsens, we will discuss other options."
"This is a bad idea," Andie repeated.
"Can I count on you?" T'Pol leaned forward in her chair and let her eyes do her pleading for her.
Andie nodded. There was a time not so long ago when it would have been unheard of for a Vulcan to defend a humans' right to choose. The sheer unexpectedness of the request seemed good for a couple of day's worth of silence. "For now," she agreed. "But I get to decide when it's time to start discussing other options."
"Agreed," the Vulcan nodded. She rose to leave. "Doctor? Work fast."
"The senior staff is going to be a problem," Andie warned her before she reached the door. "Reed will be especially difficult."
"I will assist you with the lieutenant," T'Pol promised. She exited and left the doctor to her thoughts.
The week had started with an opportunity to explore a new culture, and it wound up with a promise to deceive and mislead. It was one hell of a week!
THE END.
A/N: Will T'Pol get friendly with her ex-husband? Will Reed discover Andie's lies? Will Tucker get his beloved ship put back together again? How bad is Archer's injury? All these answers and more, coming up!
If you liked Renaisterre, stay tuned for the upcoming Ulnythian Games.