Chapter 3

An odd-looking bird perched in an average-looking tree, gazing out at nothing
in particular. The bird suddenly flinched as it heard an unfamiliar noise. The noise
grew louder, and the bird made a squawking sound and flew.
The shuttlepod whined and glided gracefully past the edge of a great forest.
To its left was what appeared to be a large lake, covered completely by a blanket
of dark green slime. The engine strained, and the pod pulled up short, then it settled
gently on the sandy beach near the woods.
T'Pol had suggested 'early morning', and the captain had agreed. Though the
sun had yet to crest the trees, the area still offered plenty of light by which to explore.
After the pod had cooled its engine, the hush of dawn returned, accented only by
occasional bird calls.
Momentarily, the hatch opened.
Archer stepped down from the shuttlepod and took a deep breath, gazing
out across the covered lake. He squatted and picked up a handful of white sand,
watching as it ran through his fingers.
T'Pol followed him from the craft and stepped lightly onto the beach. She
glanced left and right, then she quickly flipped on her scanner and started analyzing
the green mass.
Phlox fumbled from the hatch with a cumbersome array of bags and devices.
He dropped them down next to T'Pol and made a bee-line for the shore, some
twenty meters away.
Lastly, Mayweather exited, glowing with excitement. He tried to look at
everything at once, then, after a moment, he circled the shuttlepod and examined
the exterior. By the time that he returned to the open hatch, Phlox was back with
some research.
"I believe that it is some sort of...insect larvae," he told the captain, holding
forth his slimy hand. "If you look closely, you can see them, ah, wiggle!"
He raised the goo for Archer's inspection. The captain winced and snarled
his nose, then he cautiously peered.
"Are you saying that the...storms...are these things?" he asked.
"It's highly likely, Captain."
T'Pol wandered over and scanned the dripping green ooze, then she headed
off up the beach. After some distance, she paused and looked down, then she
reached and picked something up.
Archer turned and paced, low-gear, his hands locked before him.
"Are you suggesting that they give off some sort of...light?" he furrowed.
"I simply do not know," Phlox said, averting his eyes. "I suppose we'll just
have to wait and see, hmm?"
Pointing to his bags, the doctor politely asked Travis to find him a jar. Travis
noisily rummaged through them until he found one that met Phlox's satisfaction. He
opened it, and Phlox plopped the ooze inside. The doctor then looked around for
a moment. Finally, he shrugged and bent down awkwardly, cleaning his hand on
the beach.
"What time do you think they'll...hatch, Doc?" Travis asked, tossing him the lid.
Phlox puzzled, then started to answer, when T'Pol returned with her discovery.
"Captain."
"What is it?"
"I believe that I have found a...mature specimen," she said. "It is, however,
deceased."
T'Pol presented her palm and scanned her fortune. She held a small butterfly-
like creature, slightly larger than a thumbnail. Its tiny wings were translucent, but
as she moved her hand, the wings seemed to change colors, reflecting reds, blues,
yellows, and greens, all muted in the morning light.
"This creature appears to have the same genetic signature as the larvae," she
stated.
Phlox engaged his device, and the two together produced a pleasant harmony.
"Are these things dangerous?" Travis asked.
Phlox didn't answer right away. Finally, he drew the scanner in close and
pushed some buttons, then he looked up and chinned.
"I detect no signs of poisons, no harmful pathogens," he smiled. "I would say
that they are as harmless as...butterflies, ha!"
"What about...everything else?" Archer asked.
"Our orbital scans picked up nothing out of the ordinary," he assured. "And the
water, at least here, has high concentrations of sodium chloride - very few, if any,
creatures can survive in such conditions. It's similar to your, mmm, Grand Salt Lake!"
"Great."
"I couldn't agree more, Captain!" Phlox beamed, then he flew off into a merry
monologue of predictions.
Archer tried to correct him, but he gave up and listened. Phlox waxed scientific
for quite a while, finally ending his speech with, "any minute now, hmm?"


"Any minute" turned into ten, then thirty, then sixty. Although the landscape
was noticeably brighter, the alien yellow sun appeared to be pacing itself for the
long day and had yet to breach the tall trees behind the shuttlepod. Though not
unpleasantly so, the air was somewhat chilly, and it stirred on occasion from a
light breeze.
Phlox spent the time fussing with his various instruments, while Travis wandered
off into the woods. Archer sat silently on the beach, looking out across the dark
green lake; T'Pol stood near by, consumed with her device. Finally, she turned it off
and attached it to her belt. Archer took notice and spoke.
"Nothing left to scan?" he asked.
She paused, then she walked up to him, hands behind her back.
"No."
Archer smiled down at his feet, then he patted the ground next to him.
"Have a seat," he said. "Enjoy the view."
T'Pol looked at him, then she considered the sand for a moment. Finally, she
relented and sat stiffly. She folded her legs as if preparing to meditate, then she
stared blankly across the slime-covered water.
"Something...bothering you today?" he asked. "You seem a little...distracted."
"I suppose it is the...gravity," she said flatly, then she consulted her scanner.
"It is approximately 1.26327 times that of Enterprise."
"You sure?"
T'Pol blinked then offered him the proof; Archer graciously declined.
"You know," he said, leaning back on his elbows. "There are all kinds of
butterflies on earth. Some, like Monarchs, even migrate. They travel...thousands
of miles every year from Canada to Mexico."
"Fascinating."
"I remember...when I was a kid," he continued. "They always passed through
upstate. Me and my cousins, we used to...go out...and hunt them...out in the fields
on my uncle's farm. We'd search for hours and hours."
(A few meters away, Phlox clanked something; he fumbled, then he clanked
something else.)
"We would, uhh, bring them back home and play with them for a while,"
he tried. "Then we'd just let them go on their way. They usually just...fluttered off."
(Somewhere in the forest, a bird flapped its wings. A twig snapped, distant
and muted, and leaves lightly crunched.)
"They're sort of yellow and...orange-ish, Monarchs are..." he struggled.
"They've got some...black spots on them, too. Big...they're big. You lay one out
and it's a good, oh, I don't know, twenty or so...centimeters across...or something..."
(The shuttlepod shifted and softly creaked.)
Archer wearily sat up and stretched his back, then he exhaled deeply.
T'Pol blinked.
Archer sniffed and cleared his throat.
"Do you have...uhh...butterflies on Vulcan?" he asked the lake.
"Yes," she said.
Archer nodded, then he looked over towards the ever-busy Phlox and
grimaced, tugging on his earlobe. T'Pol paused, then she also looked towards the
doctor. She took a short breath.
"I kept one for a while," she said slowly, "as a child."
Archer carefully returned his attention to the lake.
"You...had a pet butterfly?"
"Not a pet," she clarified. "It was...an experimental subject."
"Did this...'subject'...have a name?" he peeked, scratching his jaw.
She paused then gave him a wary glance.
"Jal Lox," she said.
Archer bit his lip and turned his head for a moment.
"Was it...colorful?" he asked, looking up at nothing.
T'Pol shifted as if sitting upon an uncomfortable grain of sand.
"No," she replied cautiously. "It was quite...plain."
"How long did you, uhh, study it?"
"For almost ten-" she started. Then she stopped abruptly and focused intently
on the lake.
Archer looked at her.
"T'Pol?"
"Wait."
"What?"
She stood up, and Archer followed suit.
"What?"
"Listen," she shushed.
A faint popping sound came from the lake, then another, then several, over-
lapping.
"Captain!" yelled Phlox.
"We hear it."
Phlox quickly turned on several devices, and Mayweather sprinted out of the
tree line and ran down to assist him. T'Pol opened her scanner and held it towards
the green mass, and Archer leaned over her shoulder.
The pops continued, and dozens of tiny flies began flittering about the surface.
After a moment, the whole lake fell silent, until suddenly, the popping resumed in
earnest.
Then the lake exploded.
The sound was as though some distant celebration was drawing to a climax.
An unseen hand lit an entire package of firecrackers, which in turn, ignited the
entire box, then the flames quickly spread to the factory. Though a single puff was
barely audible, the dissonance of the mass communion produced a low, rolling rumble.
This noise was joined directly by a soft flapping, which grew louder as thousands,
then millions, then billions of little butterflies breached the surface. Each released
a tiny sprout of water, and the entire lake seemed to boil and bounce as a breeze
blew in towards shore.
The surface of the lake, now very much alive, began to ascend, and the vast
host of flies circled in upon itself, rising slowly, singular in thought and purpose. The
distant shoreline wavered, then undulated, diffused through gossamer wings, until
finally, the top of the swarm broke the tree line, and the air itself seemed to burst
into flames, bathing the landscape below with the light of a thousand colors.
The breeze blew into a steady wind, warm with the smell of salt, and the
multitudes rose higher and higher. The popping rapidly diminished, leaving only the
constant rush of infinite wings, and the bubbling lake simmered and chopped. As
more and more millions reached the sunshine, the entire sky became a kaleidoscope
of blues, yellows, silvers, greens, and reds, with all imaginable colors in between -
ever changing, iridescent, climbing, swirling, higher.
After a few minutes, the gigantic cloud seemed to rise no more, though it continued
its slow revolution and broadened somewhat. The wind faded back to breeze, then
the breeze, itself, withdrew, leaving behind an eerie silence beneath the vast ocean
of color above.
Then the lake grew still.
Suddenly, from the center of the rainbow storm, a single fly fell - floating,
tumbling, like a sparkler, flashing through the entire spectrum and back again,
before finally landing silently on the water. A few more followed, then a few dozen,
then a steady stream descended gently from the circling mass, like painted cherry
blossoms, like psychedelic snow flakes. Soon, the air was filled, saturated completely
with falling butterflies, most landing on the lake, some landing on the shore, where
they flittered a bit before laying still.
Archer, who had stood motionless up until now, finally looked over at Travis
and Phlox, both with their mouths wide open. After a moment, they appeared to
shake the trance, also, and they looked back at him in wonder. Archer shook his
head and returned his eyes to the heavens, then he quickly glanced at his neglected
science officer.
Intently focused, she held her scanner at arm's length, watching as the data
flashed. He looked at the scanner, then he looked down at her, but she did not
appear to notice. He paused for a moment, then slowly reached out and gently
pulled the device from her hand. She glared up at him in dismay, and Archer softly
smiled, meeting her eyes, as he casually tossed the thing to the sand. She looked
at the scanner, then back at him, then she crossed her arms and peered out across
the sparkling lake, as the butterflies continued their fall.
Archer bent and sat upon the beach. Without looking, he reached beside him
and tapped T'Pol's leg. She flinched and glanced down, then she stared at him for
a moment before returning her eyes to the lake. Finally, she relented and sat beside
him, and they quietly watched until the last fly fell, almost ten minutes later.
T'Pol lightly sighed. She swiped a few butterflies from her hair, then examined
the rest of herself for more. Finding none, she looked up at Jonathan Archer. He sat
motionless, hands around his knees, and though he was still gazing out across the lake,
his eyes appeared to focus farther than the distant shore.
She hesitated, then reached and brushed a tiny butterfly from his shoulder.
Archer noticed, and he cleared his throat. He looked down at her with a fleeting
smile, then briefly glanced up. He extended his arm and gently plucked a fly from
her hair and gave it to her. Looking away, he slowly got to his feet.
She considered the butterfly in her palm for a moment, then she considered
the hand near her shoulder.
"T'Pol?"
She traded, and Archer helper her up.
Phlox slowly approached them and started to speak, but nothing came out.
Finally, he took a deep breath and quietly said, "Thank you, Captain."
Archer smiled and nodded.
"Where's Travis?" he asked.
"I, mmm, think the ensign wanted to...inspect the shuttlepod, perhaps?"
Archer thought for a moment, then he nodded again.