"I have a medical emergency. Commander Tucker's collapsed."
The atmosphere on the 'Bridge' has been quiet up till now. I've been staying quite still and silent, letting my helmsman host do what he usually does, but at those words through the communications link his heartbeat suddenly gets faster.
It's a really strange feeling. I experienced it last night, of course, when he was in the 'gymnasium', but though the physical effect was the same, the rush of emotions that come with it are completely different. I don't have any words to describe it, all the things that happen to his body. I know that it's all set off by a hormone called 'adrenaline' but never having actually experienced an adrenaline rush it's quite simply overwhelming. It took me hours last night to submit to the Humans' period of unconsciousness; I couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like not to know anything for a period of time. That was on top of 'eating' and 'exercising' and 'showering' and 'using the toilet', which were all astonishing things to experience when you've never done them before. Though I have to admit the chess was a bit of a let-down, and lessened the respect I'd started to feel for these Humans who cope with all this sensory input without even thinking about it; a game with only 10123 outcomes is pretty limited, especially as they won't even live long enough to play them all.
I'll admit it, I'm pretty nervous. With it being my first time, and all. Especially with such an experienced Senior Observer – I don't want to mess up. But it's so fascinating, being linked to an alien like this. 'Travis', my host, doesn't even feel so much unlike me. He's happy to be here, he's hoping to learn things, he's proud to be with the people he works with. As stupid as it sounds, if he was a real person he'd be the sort I'd want to have for a friend.
I catch myself thinking that, and scold myself. It's exactly what the Senior Observer warned me about: getting involved.
My host doesn't move, but he listens hard.
"Can you bring the shuttlepod in?" The captain's beside his Vulcan science officer's station. His voice has suddenly gotten tense.
"Yes, sir. At least, in simulations."
I'm already getting familiar with the Humans' vocal tones; I can hear the fear in her voice, but it's being held on a tight rein of determination.
"Slow and steady, Ensign. I'll see you in Decon."
"Understood." She cuts the connection, probably to concentrate on flying, and the captain orders T'Pol to call Phlox – that's the Denobulan doctor.
Travis's pulse is still thumping, but now it's with more than just his anxiety. As I slip a look across to the Senior Observer, who slides a knowing glance at me in return, with just a tiny hint of a secret smile tugging at his mouth, I think to myself, It's starting.
=/\=
It's apparently an accepted part of the routine for the tactical officer and the helmsman to go do work elsewhere in the ship when we're on duty, because nobody seems even slightly surprised when the Senior Observer beckons a junior up to take his place and another comes to take mine. I let 'Travis' do the handover – he knows what he's talking about, after all – and then when the two of us are in the turbo-lift I step into control. It's easier than I expected; now I know what the Humans' unconsciousness/sleep feels like, I just manipulate the brain waves and that's it: I'm in charge.
The Senior Observer nods approvingly.
"This is going to take some getting used to," I say, with a gesture to take in the whole experience of being in somewhere, of being contained by something.
"It's different," he agrees briskly, "but you'll get used to it. What we have to concentrate on is the subjects, remember. It'll be easy for you to get carried away, but we've already discussed that. If you have any problems, or there's anything you don't see the point of, just speak out."
I'm so grateful for his understanding.
We reach the level down from the Bridge and step out into the corridor – we have to take a separate turbo-lift down to the level where the action will be taking place. I'm nervous enough to want to talk, so I remark that I've studied his report on how the Klingons reacted to the infection. I've studied quite a few of the recent encounters, but I feel as if I'd like to get more of a handle on his understanding of what happened.
He shrugs a bit dismissively. "Their response was typical for a species at their level of development."
He's right of course, but the level of development is about the same for the Humans, and they haven't reacted the same way at all. So I press a bit. "The Klingon commander didn't let his landing party back on his ship."
"Your point?"
Well, isn't it obvious? "Captain Archer did."
He pauses, and explains it patiently. "Captain Archer's done nothing different from the Klingons. The launch bay and Decon Chamber are completely isolated from the rest of the ship."
I still don't feel completely satisfied, but I don't want to seem disrespectful by arguing the point. "So it doesn't matter if an infected landing party comes aboard." I guess we can agree on that.
Another faint shrug; he sounds a bit bored already. "Precisely. Humans don't want to interact with dying crew mates any more than Klingons did.
"If it was left to me, I'd stop our observations immediately. We have nothing more to learn from Humans."
Well. I'm a new kid, and to me it's all different and strange and exciting, but he's been doing this for centuries and he's seen it all so many times I guess he is bored. Still, he said he wants me to speak up, so as soon as I'm sure we can talk without being overheard I do just that.
"Oh, I don't know. They're showing concern for each other. The Cardassians did that when they were here, didn't they?"
He grins a bit sardonically. "Ah, but in the end they killed their infected crew, just as the Klingons did. The only difference is the time it took to reach that decision."
He's right, of course, though I can't help feeling disappointed. I'd really like, just for once, for something different to happen, something exciting. And though I'd never admit it, I'm getting a soft spot for my host – he feels like a friendly sort of being. I'll be a bit sorry if this is one of the times when the whole crew dies.
"Maybe the humans will surprise us," I suggest, more in wishful thinking than actual belief.
It's not surprising that he scoffs. "I've been observing aliens for eight hundred years. I've yet to be surprised. Still, we should follow protocol.
"Start questioning the infected crew. I'll check in with the Doctor."
=/\=
I'm just getting to grips with what Humans look like in their ordinary state, so I'm a bit nervous when I step up to the window of the Decon Chamber.
The Humans inside don't look like the others I've seen. They're pale and their skins are sweating. They're obviously uncomfortable, which is apparently one of the side effects of the virus, though of course I don't really understand what it actually means.
I clear my throat a bit and tap the window. "Commander, Hoshi. Just wanted to say hi."
The male must be the commander. He glances at me. "We're a little busy right now, Travis."
I can't see what they're busy doing. There's nothing to do in there, just be ill and get worse.
"Can you tell me what's in the hypospray?" I ask. It's all information that will feed into our knowledge of their 'civilisation', though I doubt if the Senior Observer would describe it as that. Primarily, though, I need to get them talking to me.
"Something for our symptoms," says the female shortly, peering round the bulkhead at me. I'd have thought she could be more forthcoming.
"Yeah, Phlox doesn't know what's wrong with us yet," adds the commander, sounding tired. I know what 'tired' is now: the feeling a body gets before it goes unconscious at night.
Still, I have to persevere; the Senior Observer will expect me to have found out something useful. "Have either of you faced serious illness before?"
The commander stops and looks at me. "Aren't you supposed to be on duty?"
Well, I am on duty – just not exactly the sort of duty he's thinking of. I'm sure he'll be helpful if I ask the right questions. "I was curious to know how you'd compare this experience with other illnesses you might've contracted."
That's obviously not one of the right questions. "Travis, we really need to get some sleep."
He can't go to sleep yet – he might die before I get any information! "I only have a few more questions," I plead.
"Thanks for stoppin' by." With an obstinate look, he walks to the observation hatch and shuts the privacy screen, ignoring my despairing "But–!"
That didn't go nearly as well as I'd hoped.
=/\=
Still, as it turns out, the Senior Observer didn't fare too well with the Denobulan doctor either. Apart from getting a hypospray for a non-existent headache, he actually didn't get anything of value at all, which I can tell didn't go down very well.
Our hosts' bodies are 'hungry'. This is such a disagreeable feeling that even the Senior Observer admits that we have to eat, and so we convene a planning meeting in the Mess Hall, combining business with necessity. Though it has to be said, if only to myself, that I don't see what's all that unpleasant about the taste of food. I'm quite getting to enjoy it, especially the soup.
We've done a little eavesdropping while we're allowing our hosts to resume their normal duties for a while, still completely oblivious to our presence. We've discovered that the doctor has been busy in the meantime.
"The doctor identified the pathogen." I can't help sounding a little bit smug. These Humans aren't as stupid as the Senior Observer thought they were, and that feels like a bit of a victory to me, even though it's obviously not going to make any significant difference to the outcome.
He's obviously still a bit irked. "That happens thirty-seven percent of the time," he sniffs.
"But no-one's made the decision to abandon the infected crew members," I point out triumphantly. These Humans are different!
He scowls at my misguided optimism. "Then this'll likely be one of the times when everyone dies," he says flatly.
Damn.
He really has seen all of this before.
=/\=
I think Travis is an optimist, just like me. Though I'm getting the feeling the Senior Observer thinks some of the host is rubbing off on me, and not in a good way, because when we leave the Mess Hall we're still arguing.
"We're looking for signs of elevated intelligence in the species we observe!"
Travis knows – and therefore I know – that the lieutenant has a habit of talking down his nose when he's getting irritated. He's doing it now, so maybe his host is rubbing off on the Senior Observer too. "Rational intelligence, yes. Which Archer has not demonstrated. The longer the infected crew remain on board, the greater the risk that quarantine will fail."
"I'm sure Captain Archer knows exactly what the risk is. Maybe it's not as important to him as standing by his crew."
"It's just as probable that he hasn't realised how hopeless the situation is."
This was undoubtedly meant to squash me. I won't let it. I like these Humans, and I want to stick up for them. For a while, anyway.
"There's a way to be sure," I suggest.
He stops, pulling me back to a slightly more private area of the corridor, and looks at me. "We chose the Helmsman and the Armoury Officer for good reason. 'They're both stationed on the Bridge, yet neither plays a critical role in a medical emergency'."
"Which is why we should inhabit the doctor and the science officer," I say eagerly. "Archer relies on their findings to make his decisions. We could witness that as it happens!"
He frowns, unconvinced. "The more people we inhabit, the greater the chance that we will inadvertently interfere."
"The more people we inhabit, the more we'll be able to observe!"
I still don't think he's really buying it, but we seem to have reached our limit for the time being at the amount our present hosts can contribute to our research. So with a wry shrug of acquiescence, he releases control.
Our hosts have no idea why they are where they are, but their brains link seamlessly to previous events that are close enough to provide an explanation. That was what they must have been doing. The alternative is too awful to imagine, and so it's locked away; and they resume their journey, each thinking he's the only one who can't quite remember what they were talking about.