Chapter Forty-Nine

A Difficult Introduction

Lieutenant JG Elizabeth Cutler

I don't even want to think about how much organization it's taken to get us to this moment.

The three members of Malcolm's family are ushered into the reception room. They look nervous, and I can't blame them, so I move forward as quickly as possible, smiling warmly.

Admiral Reed is very reserved, his handshake stiff and short. Mrs. Reed's presence is overpowered by his, but she seems a warm and pleasant woman, carefully made-up for the occasion, with a subtly stylish handbag over one arm.

Mal's sister, however, hangs back. Her face is set, and I already know from Trip that she took some persuading to come here. And yet, now and again Mal has referred to his baby sister, mentioned things they got up to when they were children. I get the feeling that they were close.

So there must be some reason for her air of reserve – which, of course, simply accentuates her resemblance to her brother, who can assume a reserve that would make armor plating look soft. She doesn't look much like him, except around the eyes, and she seems to have the same habitual frown.

"I believe you're Madeleine," I say, offering my hand. "I've heard about you from Malcolm."

She hesitates before she takes it, and the frown deepens. "He talks about me?"

"Not much," I say frankly. "He's been very ill – mentally and physically – and he's still in recovery. We encourage him to talk, but it took a while before he felt able to hold anything you'd call a conversation."

"But what exactly is wrong with him?" cries Mrs. Reed. "Nobody seems to be willing to tell us anything!"

I gesture them all to the comfortable chairs set ready; this is going to take a while.

They sit, and I fetch them drinks. Then I take my own seat, and cradle my own drink while I consider where to start and what exactly I should say.

"Malcolm was held prisoner in a laboratory for over a year," I say at last, quietly. "The other two members of the Triad decided to use him as the subject for … an experiment."

"A year!" The admiral's face stretches in shock. "We haven't seen him on the news reports very often lately, but we understood he was leading the new expansion program in person…"

"If there is any expansion program, sir, he had no part in it. They arranged to use highly sophisticated technology to replicate his image and his voice. By then he was on Jupiter Station, a prisoner.

"But for Commodore Tucker's ingenuity and his own courage, he'd still be there – if he'd survived. And I'm not at liberty to go into details, but between them they probably saved the entire Human race."

It's a big thing to take on board, especially since there must have been moments when it seemed to them that Mal was carrying out an extermination program all on his own. I see them all digesting it, but the frown on Madeleine's face doesn't soften much.

"You say – you say he was 'experimented on'." It takes a moment or two before Mrs. Reed can make herself go on; I can't imagine many worse things for a mother to hear, except perhaps that her child has been killed. "Are we allowed to know in what way?"

I've debated within myself whether I should tell them this. In one way I think it would be kinder, but on the other hand it would be totally violating patient confidentiality. It's Malcolm's right to tell them if he wants them told.

"I'm sorry, no, I can't tell you that," I reply quietly. "As one of his team of care-givers I have an obligation to protect his privacy. But I can tell you that it involved extreme physical and mental trauma, and you should be prepared for him to be quite a different person from the one you last met. I hope you'll treat him with the understanding he deserves."

"'The understanding he deserves'?" His sister speaks suddenly, pain and anger in her voice. "We heard about what he did – that – that 'lingchi'. My own brother did that to a fellow human being and made almost everyone in the Empire watch while he did it! Now you're saying he deserves understanding?

"I'll never forgive him for that. I'm sorry, no. I can't understand it and I can't forgive it, and as far as I'm concerned, whatever he's been through he deserved it.

"I used to be proud of him. I'll admit that, I was. I was proud of the way he fought his way up, never let his size hold him back. But I went online afterwards and – and I saw some of what he did. And after seeing that, I don't think I ever knew him at all."

I nod. I can understand that. I can understand it better than most, having suffered at his hands aboard Enterprise as often as I did. I had to watch the ritual sacrifice too, and for all that my eyes were blurred with tears most of the time, there are still days when I struggle to reconcile that cold-blooded sadistic murderer with the Malcolm I know and love.

His parents say nothing. I guess they've had to come to terms with it somehow, and they're not discussing it with me.

"Thank you for agreeing to come and see him, all the same."

"You say he's in recovery," says the admiral, after a moment. "Is he recovered enough to talk to us?"

"Oh yes, sir. But you need to be aware, he's having to use a wheelchair right now. He can walk, but only for short distances – he's taking part in a strict regimen to build his strength back up."

He struggles for a bit with that idea, but finally nods. "Thank you, Lieutenant Cutler. Now, may we see our son?"

I look to Madeleine. "I understand your anger," I say. "Given what you know, you have every right to be angry. I won't argue that, but I need your word that you won't antagonize Malcolm. We haven't told him you're here. The surprise of seeing you is going to be stressful enough. He's still too fragile for an angry confrontation on top of that."

When she narrows her eyes at the perceived insult, her previously vague resemblance becomes so clear, it's chilling.

"I can manage to be civil, Lieutenant Cutler," she says acidly, "at least until I see for myself just how 'fragile' he is."

I nod my acceptance. I'll take her at her word.

"All right then," I say, trying to sound a bit more cheerful as I look at Admiral and Mrs. Reed. "I'll contact Commodore Tucker, and he'll bring Malcolm to you shortly."

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