Chapter 8
Archer got in the line with Tucker and waited the day's rations. It was around 2100 hours and their work shift was done for the day.
Thank God. Archer thought. His body ached all over from the mining. And he had a few bruises from when he'd stop to rest. The guards didn't tolerate this and one guard slammed his gun into Archer's back. As much as it hurt, it also impelled him to work faster and harder. Which did nothing to improve the aching in his neck, back, and just about every other part of his body.
Trip had a black eye that was now swollen. He kept it half closed. He also looked quite worn out from the day's tribulations. For the first time since the night before, Archer thought about T'Pol and wondered how she was doing. He knew that Vulcans could last several days without water and that they were many times stronger than Humans. But Archer suspected that this place could wear down even the strongest Vulcan.
Throughout the day, Archer, unfortunately, witnessed more gruesome acts of this place. Including an unauthorized execution right in the mine. One of the prisoners fell down in fatigue and refused to get up despite the guard's screamed orders. Another guard marched over and pulled the prisoner to his feet. Then Archer watched in horror as a gun was put to the prisoner's gut. The guard spit in the prisoner's face, and then shot him. The prisoner never protested throughout the entire ordeal. He didn't have any fight left in him. And the guards knew it. The rest of the day, Archer worked without rest.
Three guards came into the barrack and split all the prisoners into groups of four. Each group was given a single bowl with some kind of repulsive yellow and watery gruel. Archer's group consisted of himself, Trip, Barik, and a boy of around twelve, named Loupa. Loupa's family came to the camp over a year ago. But his father was killed in the gas chamber, and he doesn't know the whereabouts of his mother or sister. Loupa hadn't seen them since the day they were separated a year and a half ago. Archer was somewhat surprised that the kid had lasted this long. Barik had sadly stated the fact that children were usually the first to die.
They all took a small portion of the gruel and ate it slowly even though they were ravenous. There was barely any food once it was separated, but eating it slowly would give it some time to be digested slower and, hopefully, help them feel more satisfied. But the small amount of food that Archer took seemed to be teasing him, because he only became hungrier.
After their "meal," Archer took his place on the cement floor but didn't go to sleep. Trip was chatting with Loupa about warp cores and such and Barik sat in a corner on the opposite side of the room. He was holding a small white flower. His eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. Archer suddenly remembered Vian. Archer couldn't even imagine how Barik felt. Especially when Barik witnessed his daughter being dragged from him away like that.
"Mind if I sit down?"
Barik glanced up to see Archer hovering over him. Barik put his hand out gesturing him to sit. Archer sat across from Barik and watched him twiddle with the delicate flower.
Barik caught Archer's gaze on the flower and he held it up a little.
"This was, I mean, is Vian's favorite flower." The man smiled some. "It's called a tamika. It was her mother's favorite too."
"Where is her mother?"
Barik shrugged. "We were all separated three years ago, when Vian was twelve. The SS came to our home and separated everyone. I had another daughter. She was only four months old. She was taken with her mother. It was never said where they went," Barik stopped a moment as he recalled the memory, "the SS had taken Vian and I to a ghetto with other prisoners. We spent those three long years there until we were taken here. And now it's just me."
Archer shook his head. "I'm sure she stayed with my officer and T'Pol would make sure Vian was safe."
"No one here is safe, Captain," Barik replied, "no one."
As he said that, Archer heard a man in one of the bunks cry out. Archer turned around sharply and saw an old man fall from the bunk clutching his chest. Trip was the first to make it to the man and he searched frantically for a pulse. But where? From his wrist? His neck?
"His temple, Mr. Tucker," Barik said, "check his temple."
Trip put two fingers above the man's eyebrow and he waited for a few seconds. Other prisoners awoke and stared. Trip sighed and laid the man's head gently to the floor. As he did this, a cluster of prisoners crowded around the man and hastily took his shoes and clothes. Someone even took occupation of the man's cot within five seconds flat. Trip crawled out from the swarm of prisoners in disbelief.
"Jesus! What's the matter with you people?!" Trip yelled exasperatingly.
Archer stared in astonishment at the greediness of the prisoners. Barik caught the look of disbelief on Archer's face.
"Here, Captain, nothing is wasted."
Archer nodded. "Yeah."
The prisoners eventually cleared the area leaving the old man sprawled out on the cement floor. Nothing happened.
"What," Trip said, "they're just gonna leave 'em there?"
Two prisoners slid out of their bunks and carelessly dragged the dead man by his hands to a vacant corner of the room.
***
"I still have a hard time believing that they came here to just, what was the word they used," Schneider tapped his fingers on his desk and then his eyes lit up, "oh, yes, 'explore.' " Schneider chuckled. "Nobody comes to this planet to 'explore.' "
"I disagree. Humans have never been here before and most likely have no idea that we even exist. I believe they came to this planet without any knowledge of our existence." Cmdr. Lee said diligently.
"Yes, but being that they're here now," Colonel Schneider opened the blinds of his office window and stared out at the jungle, "who knows how many more they have. We must be careful with this. They could launch a full-blown war against us!"
The Colonel peered at the sky. "I must know how big their ship is and if we're in any real danger. They mentioned that one of them was the Captain. I shall have a meeting with him."
Schneider closed the blinds with a sigh. "Will you get him for me, Commander?"
"Of course."
***
After their meal, T'Pol told Vian to sit down with her. Vian looked fatigued and ready to fall down, but T'Pol had to give Vian her first meditation lesson. T'Pol sat directly in front of the girl and began the lesson.
"Close your eyes."
"Gladly." Vian mumbled.
"Please dispose of your sarcasm. This is important."
Vian sighed and then closed her eyes delicately.
"Now," continued T'Pol, "tell me what your pain is."
"Lack of sleep."
"Concentrate, Ms. Vian. What pain are you feeling?"
Vian was silent for a moment, and then uttered a single sentence. "I miss my father."
"Tell me more."
"It's the first time is three years that we've been separated. I miss him."
"Is there anyone else you yearn for?"
Vian thought for a moment. "My mother. My little sister," Vian smiled sensitively, "my home."
"Tell me about your home."
"It was big. Daddy had a really good job. I even had my own room. There was a garden. My garden. I grew tamikas. My mother had helped me plant them. But I've taken care of them ever since I was little." Vian's expression grew sad, and then angry.
"But then the SS came. When they dragged us out of the house, they stepped all over my garden. I remember my mother's expression. She was so sad. I had screamed at the SS to get off my flowers. One of them slapped me. My father punched him. But then three more officers beat him, and," Vian's voice choked with tears, "and."
Vian cried openly now.
"Hold on to that pain, Vian. Hold it. Now imagine yourself during that exact time and imagine your father winning. Imagine allies coming and saving you. All of you. Now block the pain Vian. Forget it and think of a happy time. The pain is only a messenger. Say it."
Vian still choked on the tears but did as T'Pol asked. "Pain is only the messenger. Pain is only the messenger."
"Think about those words and their meaning. Force them into a part of your mind where there is a dark, empty room. Store the pain there, lock the door, and overcome it. Pain is only the messenger."
They did this sort of ritual for several minutes. Vian was doing her best and was overcoming the pain, but slowly. Then they were both silent. Vian opened her eyes tentatively. T'Pol did the same.
"I don't believe," Vian whispered, "how much clearer I feel."
Indeed, Vian's demeanor had calmed.
"If we continue this and meditate every night, soon you will overcome great pains and dilemmas. This is only a small amount of pain that you've managed to conquer."
They were both reticent for a while.
"I suggest we sleep." T'Pol said, and she backed up against the wall and fell into a deep slumber.
Archer got in the line with Tucker and waited the day's rations. It was around 2100 hours and their work shift was done for the day.
Thank God. Archer thought. His body ached all over from the mining. And he had a few bruises from when he'd stop to rest. The guards didn't tolerate this and one guard slammed his gun into Archer's back. As much as it hurt, it also impelled him to work faster and harder. Which did nothing to improve the aching in his neck, back, and just about every other part of his body.
Trip had a black eye that was now swollen. He kept it half closed. He also looked quite worn out from the day's tribulations. For the first time since the night before, Archer thought about T'Pol and wondered how she was doing. He knew that Vulcans could last several days without water and that they were many times stronger than Humans. But Archer suspected that this place could wear down even the strongest Vulcan.
Throughout the day, Archer, unfortunately, witnessed more gruesome acts of this place. Including an unauthorized execution right in the mine. One of the prisoners fell down in fatigue and refused to get up despite the guard's screamed orders. Another guard marched over and pulled the prisoner to his feet. Then Archer watched in horror as a gun was put to the prisoner's gut. The guard spit in the prisoner's face, and then shot him. The prisoner never protested throughout the entire ordeal. He didn't have any fight left in him. And the guards knew it. The rest of the day, Archer worked without rest.
Three guards came into the barrack and split all the prisoners into groups of four. Each group was given a single bowl with some kind of repulsive yellow and watery gruel. Archer's group consisted of himself, Trip, Barik, and a boy of around twelve, named Loupa. Loupa's family came to the camp over a year ago. But his father was killed in the gas chamber, and he doesn't know the whereabouts of his mother or sister. Loupa hadn't seen them since the day they were separated a year and a half ago. Archer was somewhat surprised that the kid had lasted this long. Barik had sadly stated the fact that children were usually the first to die.
They all took a small portion of the gruel and ate it slowly even though they were ravenous. There was barely any food once it was separated, but eating it slowly would give it some time to be digested slower and, hopefully, help them feel more satisfied. But the small amount of food that Archer took seemed to be teasing him, because he only became hungrier.
After their "meal," Archer took his place on the cement floor but didn't go to sleep. Trip was chatting with Loupa about warp cores and such and Barik sat in a corner on the opposite side of the room. He was holding a small white flower. His eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. Archer suddenly remembered Vian. Archer couldn't even imagine how Barik felt. Especially when Barik witnessed his daughter being dragged from him away like that.
"Mind if I sit down?"
Barik glanced up to see Archer hovering over him. Barik put his hand out gesturing him to sit. Archer sat across from Barik and watched him twiddle with the delicate flower.
Barik caught Archer's gaze on the flower and he held it up a little.
"This was, I mean, is Vian's favorite flower." The man smiled some. "It's called a tamika. It was her mother's favorite too."
"Where is her mother?"
Barik shrugged. "We were all separated three years ago, when Vian was twelve. The SS came to our home and separated everyone. I had another daughter. She was only four months old. She was taken with her mother. It was never said where they went," Barik stopped a moment as he recalled the memory, "the SS had taken Vian and I to a ghetto with other prisoners. We spent those three long years there until we were taken here. And now it's just me."
Archer shook his head. "I'm sure she stayed with my officer and T'Pol would make sure Vian was safe."
"No one here is safe, Captain," Barik replied, "no one."
As he said that, Archer heard a man in one of the bunks cry out. Archer turned around sharply and saw an old man fall from the bunk clutching his chest. Trip was the first to make it to the man and he searched frantically for a pulse. But where? From his wrist? His neck?
"His temple, Mr. Tucker," Barik said, "check his temple."
Trip put two fingers above the man's eyebrow and he waited for a few seconds. Other prisoners awoke and stared. Trip sighed and laid the man's head gently to the floor. As he did this, a cluster of prisoners crowded around the man and hastily took his shoes and clothes. Someone even took occupation of the man's cot within five seconds flat. Trip crawled out from the swarm of prisoners in disbelief.
"Jesus! What's the matter with you people?!" Trip yelled exasperatingly.
Archer stared in astonishment at the greediness of the prisoners. Barik caught the look of disbelief on Archer's face.
"Here, Captain, nothing is wasted."
Archer nodded. "Yeah."
The prisoners eventually cleared the area leaving the old man sprawled out on the cement floor. Nothing happened.
"What," Trip said, "they're just gonna leave 'em there?"
Two prisoners slid out of their bunks and carelessly dragged the dead man by his hands to a vacant corner of the room.
***
"I still have a hard time believing that they came here to just, what was the word they used," Schneider tapped his fingers on his desk and then his eyes lit up, "oh, yes, 'explore.' " Schneider chuckled. "Nobody comes to this planet to 'explore.' "
"I disagree. Humans have never been here before and most likely have no idea that we even exist. I believe they came to this planet without any knowledge of our existence." Cmdr. Lee said diligently.
"Yes, but being that they're here now," Colonel Schneider opened the blinds of his office window and stared out at the jungle, "who knows how many more they have. We must be careful with this. They could launch a full-blown war against us!"
The Colonel peered at the sky. "I must know how big their ship is and if we're in any real danger. They mentioned that one of them was the Captain. I shall have a meeting with him."
Schneider closed the blinds with a sigh. "Will you get him for me, Commander?"
"Of course."
***
After their meal, T'Pol told Vian to sit down with her. Vian looked fatigued and ready to fall down, but T'Pol had to give Vian her first meditation lesson. T'Pol sat directly in front of the girl and began the lesson.
"Close your eyes."
"Gladly." Vian mumbled.
"Please dispose of your sarcasm. This is important."
Vian sighed and then closed her eyes delicately.
"Now," continued T'Pol, "tell me what your pain is."
"Lack of sleep."
"Concentrate, Ms. Vian. What pain are you feeling?"
Vian was silent for a moment, and then uttered a single sentence. "I miss my father."
"Tell me more."
"It's the first time is three years that we've been separated. I miss him."
"Is there anyone else you yearn for?"
Vian thought for a moment. "My mother. My little sister," Vian smiled sensitively, "my home."
"Tell me about your home."
"It was big. Daddy had a really good job. I even had my own room. There was a garden. My garden. I grew tamikas. My mother had helped me plant them. But I've taken care of them ever since I was little." Vian's expression grew sad, and then angry.
"But then the SS came. When they dragged us out of the house, they stepped all over my garden. I remember my mother's expression. She was so sad. I had screamed at the SS to get off my flowers. One of them slapped me. My father punched him. But then three more officers beat him, and," Vian's voice choked with tears, "and."
Vian cried openly now.
"Hold on to that pain, Vian. Hold it. Now imagine yourself during that exact time and imagine your father winning. Imagine allies coming and saving you. All of you. Now block the pain Vian. Forget it and think of a happy time. The pain is only a messenger. Say it."
Vian still choked on the tears but did as T'Pol asked. "Pain is only the messenger. Pain is only the messenger."
"Think about those words and their meaning. Force them into a part of your mind where there is a dark, empty room. Store the pain there, lock the door, and overcome it. Pain is only the messenger."
They did this sort of ritual for several minutes. Vian was doing her best and was overcoming the pain, but slowly. Then they were both silent. Vian opened her eyes tentatively. T'Pol did the same.
"I don't believe," Vian whispered, "how much clearer I feel."
Indeed, Vian's demeanor had calmed.
"If we continue this and meditate every night, soon you will overcome great pains and dilemmas. This is only a small amount of pain that you've managed to conquer."
They were both reticent for a while.
"I suggest we sleep." T'Pol said, and she backed up against the wall and fell into a deep slumber.