Disclaimer: Um…Paramount.  No one sue.

Alania: Glad you like. : )  I'll see if I can get a few more reactions in, but the plot possibilities are a lot more limited.

Beedrill: I don't know where the ideas come from, they just come…and the Jones action-figure?  It's a little scary…  But kinda cool.  And it's funny you should mention spleens, because Jones almost had a bruised spleen once…don't ask why or why not, it's just one of those things.  And about the fish.  I love that commercial!

A.M.: : ) I love reviews.  And I love reviewers.  And the tropical island thing…that has distinct possibilities.  I'll work on it.

Lisa: Spatulas!  Giggle.

Ms. Vegeta Black: So pleased you enjoyed. : )

Blynneda: Glad you liked the McCoy Spock dialogue.  I almost cut it out because the chapter was too long.  Good thing I didn't.  LOL, I know what scene you mean, and it was Simmons.  I reread it before writing that part, actually.

Taskemus: You're obsessed with reading it, and I'm fast becoming obsessed with writing it.  Maybe not obsessed but…y'know.  Funny how that happens.

Emp: Wait…which part?  I'm glad it was funny, but what part did you mean?  I'm confused!!

Solidchristian_88: hmm…let's see how many chapters we can go before you do laugh, lol.

Some credit here has to go to Whatzhername, because her e-mail about invisible Joneses prompted this one.  I don't think she meant to, but…my mind works in straaaange ways.

Chapter Thirty-Five:

The Invisible Ensign

The setting this particular morning on the Enterprise is the bridge.  Present for reasons unrelated to this story was Ensign Jones.  Likewise present, as he usually is, was Captain Kirk.  Along with just about everyone else who's usually on the bridge.  With the one exception of Spock.  And as it happened, Kirk wanted to talk to Spock about something, the details of which are also unrelated to this story.  What is related is that Kirk chanced to ask Jones to go find Spock, who was down in one of the science labs.  Which is when the actual narrative of this story begins.

"Mr. Spock, Captain Kirk wants to see you," Jones said.

"Thank you, Ensign."  Spock had been in the middle of mixing some various chemicals, the details of the experiment guaranteed to bore you.  He sealed up a bottle of some murky red liquid and returned it to the shelf behind him.  "I assume the Captain is on the bridge?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."  Spock nodded to Jones, and exited.

Jones didn't follow immediately.  He hung around a bit, just looking around.  Since he was a security guard, he didn't visit science labs often.  It was really kind of interesting, in a very complicated, I-don't-know-what-any-of-this-stuff-is, sort of way.  All sorts of liquids and powders and complex apparatuses.  He studied a particularly tall one, slowly backing up as he did so.  Being fully human and therefore lacking eyes in the back of his head, he didn't see the shelves behind him.  Not until he crashed into them and bottles crashed over him.  Jones yelped, swung his arms around, knocked more bottles down, slipped, and fell.

Jones slowly got back to his feet, brushing sticky powders and bits of glass off his legs.  He glanced down as he did so, and froze.    He could feel his hands passing over his legs.  But he couldn't see his legs.  Or his hands, for that matter.  A quick glance revealed that, as far as appearances went, he had completely disappeared.

Jones, being Jones, took the only reasonable course of action.  He panicked.  And fled out of the lab and down the corridor, shrieking.

Fortunately for the sanity of the crew in general, that section of the ship was fairly empty just then.  Only one lone security guard in that particular corridor…

*  *  *

A wild-eyed young lieutenant dashed into Sickbay.  He spotted McCoy, and darted over to him.  "Doctor!  You gotta help me!"

McCoy glanced at him, completed the diagnostic he was running through on his tricorder, and then set it down on the counter.  "Having a problem, Smith?"

"I'm going crazy!"

"Again?"

"Yes!"

"Sure," McCoy said skeptically.  "What happened this time?"

"I'm hearing screams again!"

"Uh-huh.  Did you check the vents?"

"It was different this time!  It wasn't coming from the walls!  I heard shrieks, and footsteps, just exactly like someone was running past.  But no one was there!"

"Hmm.  Well…either stress is getting to you or an extremely well camouflaged alien is running through this ship.  Can't hurt to give you a neural scan, I guess."

"You're gonna find out I'm off my rocker!" Smith warned.

"We'll see."

That's not what they found out though.  They found out that, as far as 23rd century medicine could tell, Smith had a perfectly healthy brain.  McCoy studied the results, frowned, and walked over to the comm unit.  "McCoy to bridge."

"Kirk here.  What do you need, Bones?"

"Nothing, really.  Just making sure you're not in the ventilation system right now."

McCoy could tell just from Kirk's tone of voice that he was being given a very strange look.  "Why would I be in the vents?  Especially after I swore that never, ever again would I—"

"Yes, I remember," McCoy interrupted.  "It's just that Smith is hearing voices again.  And I can't find anything in my scans that indicates that it's him.  So I had to figure either you were in the vents or something invisible is loose on this ship."

Kirk suddenly became very interested.  "You think there's something invisible running around?"

"Jim, I was kidding, how could—"

"But something strange is happening."

"Well, yes, I guess so—"

"I think I'll come down.  Investigate."

"It's probably noth—"

"I'll be right down.  Kirk out."

It wasn't much later that Kirk entered Sickbay.  He didn't have the expression of keen interest one would have expected though.  Instead he looked…stunned.

"Hello, Jim," McCoy said, and frowned.  "You look…stunned."

"I just had the strangest experience," Kirk said.

"And coming from you, that's saying a lot," McCoy commented.  "What happened?"

"I was walking down the corridor, and I tripped."

"That's not strange.  I don't care how well-coordinated you are, everybody—"

"No, wait.  See, I could feel myself tripping over something."

"That's not strange either."

"But when I looked…nothing was there."

McCoy blinked.  "That is strange."

They finally had to conclude that, implausible as it sounded, perhaps something invisible was on the ship.  Kirk had certainly tripped over something, despite the fact that nothing visible was there.  And once the idea had been suggested to Smith, he was willing to swear that he'd seen an invisible man.

"You know what, we ought to…" Kirk trailed off, suddenly noticing something.  He looked at Surak oddly.

The small black cat was sitting on the floor in the middle of Sickbay, and staring fixedly at an empty space.

"Is he looking at something?" Kirk asked.

"Meow!" Surak said insistently.

"Ignore him," McCoy advised.  "Cats are always staring at nothing."

"Oh.  Well, anyway, we ought to call a department heads' meeting."

"Why?"

Kirk shrugged.  "I don't know.  But whenever something weird happens, I call a department heads' meeting."

McCoy nodded.  "That makes sense.  Almost."

*  *  *

Jones was not having a good day.  First, of course, he'd become invisible.  And then he'd run shrieking through the corridors.  His breath ran out before the corridors did, and after that he'd slowed down.  Also calmed down somewhat.  And proceeded to wander aimlessly around the ship, not quite daring to try to talk to anyone.

He'd finally sat down on the floor against one wall, legs stretched out into the corridor.  At least, he was pretty sure that's where they were.  It's a very disconcerting thing to not be able to see your own legs.  So, he was sitting there, feeling depressed, when Captain Kirk came along.  And tripped over him.  That didn't help his mood any, though he supposed it was really more his own fault than the Captain's.

And then he followed Kirk into Sickbay, where he found out that he was driving Smith towards extreme mental instability.  He also came to the disconcerting realization that the cat could, apparently, see him.  But cats are like that.  Mysterious.  More to the plot, Jones also heard about the department heads' meeting, and decided that perhaps he should go.

*  *  *

"There must be some alternate explanation that is more plausible," Spock said, for at least the third time.

The department heads' meeting had somehow degenerated into Kirk arguing that something invisible was running around, and Spock arguing that such was impossible to known science.  Everyone else sat and listened and didn't know quite what to think about the whole thing.

"You'd be saying differently if you'd tripped over an empty corridor," Kirk insisted.

"Perhaps," Spock acknowledged.  "But the fact remains, no one has ever been proven to be successfully turned invisible."

"Until now," a small voice said.

Heads turned all around the table.

"Who said that?" Kirk demanded.  "And…where are you?"

"Over here."  This wasn't helpful, except in establishing that no one at the table was doing the talking.  No one visible anyway.

"Where's here?" Kirk asked, not very patiently.

"Over here," the voice repeated, but fortunately went on.  "Next to Mr. Spock."  And sure enough, the apparently empty chair on Spock's left swiveled slightly.

"Okay, now we know where you are, but who are you?  And how did you get here?  And why—"

"Wait a minute, Jim," McCoy interrupted, and squinted at the apparently empty chair as though that would help him see its occupant.  "Jones, is that you?"

"Hi, Doctor," Jones said sheepishly, and may have waved although no one could see that, of course.

Kirk blinked.  Twice.  "Ensign…how…?

"Well, um…y'know you sent me to look for Mr. Spock?"

"Right."  Kirk turned to Spock.  "He was visible when you last saw him, right?"

"Captain, by definition, in order for me to 'last see him' he must have been visible, so—"

"Never mind.  Go on, Ensign."

"Yes, sir.  So Mr. Spock left, and I was looking at some really tall thing with lots of tubes and chemicals and stuff, and I bumped into some shelves.  And all this stuff spilled on me.  And when I got up, I couldn't see myself anymore.  It's really weird to not be able to see myself," he added thoughtfully.

"I would expect so."  Kirk tried to think this through.  "So chemicals fell, and then you were invisible?"

"Basically, sir."

"That's amazing," Kirk said.

"It's better than amazing," McCoy interjected.  Something had just occurred to him.  "Spock, do you know what you said just two minutes ago?  You said that it was impossible for there to be an invisible person.  You all heard him, right?  Well…"  McCoy beamed.  "Here we have an invisible man!  You were wrong."

"On the contrary, Doctor," Spock said mildly.  "I said, two-point-seven minutes ago, that it was impossible to known science to make anyone invisible.  Two-point-seven minutes ago, the fact of Ensign Jones' invisibility was not known to science.  So therefore, while the statement is no longer accurate, it was completely true at the time of my saying it."

"Oh for…" McCoy groaned.  "Impossible he says!  I'll tell you what's impossible!  Certain Vulcans who cannot admit—"

"Argue it later," Kirk interrupted.  "Right now, we need to deal with the concrete proof of the impossibility."

And all eyes turned towards Jones, who probably would have squirmed and turned red under the scrutiny except that at least half the group was actually looking at a spot slightly to his left.

*  *  *

It wasn't easy to figure out what exactly to do with an invisible man.  They finally went for having McCoy run some scans, try and find out…anything.  They definitely didn't know quite what to do with Jones.

Jones didn't know quite what to do with himself either.  What are invisible people supposed to do with themselves?  The only precedent he could recall was Wells' The Invisible Man, and that guy had gone insane.  Jones was more depressed than insane.

"You need to look on the bright side of this," McCoy advised.

"What bright side?" Jones asked morosely.

"Well…you'll never have to wonder what to wear for a date," McCoy suggested.

"Sure.  Because no one dates invisible people!"

As chance would have it, Denise happened to be walking through in time to catch that last exchange.  "You know, Sam," she said, "you sound awfully sure of that."

"Sure I'm…oh.  Er…"

"And no one can tell if you're blushing," McCoy added.  "Another plus."

"I'm not blushing," Jones insisted, just a little too strongly.

"Of course not," McCoy agreed.

But we'll move on, so as not to embarrass the poor Ensign further.  And poor is an accurate adjective, as the final result of McCoy's scans was that returning Jones to full visibility would not be a simple matter.  So they called in Spock, for consultation purposes.  Spock read over the data, and came to a conclusion.

"I believe the most expedient solution may be to repeat the initial accident," Spock concluded.

"You want to drop bottles on me again?" Jones squeaked.  "That hurt!"

"Why would that solve anything?" McCoy demanded.  "That would just make him more…"  He considered.  "Well, I guess he can't be more invisible."

"Precisely.  That observation is the key to the entire theory."  Spock hesitated.  "The precise details are somewhat difficult to explain."

McCoy's eyes glinted.  "Try."

Spock rose to the challenge.  "It is an acceptable margin of error to consider that a state which cannot proceed by degrees will, as alternative means of advancing, follow a cyclical pattern.  Therefore, when it is contrary to reason to be invisible to a certain extent, the cyclical pattern should logically become prevailing.  To repeat the initial occurrence which set the cycle into being should—"

"Stop trying."  McCoy had heard plenty.  And he almost understood it, too.  "So what you're trying to say is, repeating the thing that made him invisible will push the cycle around and make him visible?"

"Essentially."

McCoy shrugged.  "Sounds strange, but it can't hurt to try it."

"Sure.  Can't hurt you," Jones muttered darkly.

"It can't be that bad, Ensign.  It's not like it did any real damage the first time," McCoy said practically.  "It's not likely to do much this time either, except maybe make you visible.  And that's worth the risk, right?"  A pause.  "Right?"  Another pause.  "Jones?"  A third pause, and McCoy frowned.  "You're trying to sneak out the door, aren't you?"

"Rats."

"Don't bother, because we're going through with this.  For your own good, remember that."

*  *  *

With the aid of Spock's phenomenal memory and the computer's even more phenomenal database, they were able to set up the shelves with very nearly identical contents to those that had spilled on Jones.  And then they were ready to proceed.  Or at least, Spock and McCoy were.

"Ready, Ensign?" McCoy asked.

"Yes."

McCoy was about to tip the shelves over, with the intention of sending the contents on to Jones, when Spock interrupted.  "A moment, Doctor," he said.  "Ensign, if you are in front of the shelves, why is your voice coming from behind me?"

Jones was clearly flabbergasted.  "How can you tell that?"

Spock shrugged very slightly.  "It's the ears."

Spock, of course, meant this entirely factually.  The configuration of the Vulcan ear, specifically the point, allows for hearing to a degree beyond that possible to someone with Terran ears.  Spock saw no humor in the statement.

McCoy saw things differently.

Spock raised one eyebrow, and gave him a look.  "Something amuses you, Doctor?"

"No," McCoy gasped between poorly concealed bursts of laughter.  "No, nothing.  Nothing at all, no."

"Indeed."

"Anyway…" McCoy said, regaining some semblance of control.  "In front of the shelves now, Ensign?"

"Ye-es…"

"And now you are by the counter," Spock noted.

"Yeah, well…"  The Ensign was somewhat nervous.  "I've been thinking…you don't know this follows a…a circle rhythm thing…"

"A cyclical pattern," Spock said smoothly.

"Right, that.  But what if it doesn't?  What if this time I end up intangible?  Or pass through things?  Or can't talk?  Or cease to exist entirely!"

"That is unlikely," Spock said impassively.

"Unlikely!" Jones squeaked.

"Very unlikely," Spock amended.

"Unlikely!" Jones' voice was rising in pitch.

"Virtually impossible."

"Virtually!"

Over the course of the exchange, McCoy had been moving.  He circled around behind Spock, and moved over to the counter.  By following Jones' voice—to the best of is ability as a limited, round-eared Terran—he managed to locate the decidedly anxious Ensign, and got a hold on his arm.

"Get a grip, Ensign.  You're just going to have to trust Spock.  I don't understand it, and you don't understand it, but somewhere in that Vulcan brain he apparently does.  And with the expert knowledge of someone who's spent years trying to prove him wrong, let me tell you, it's not an easy thing to do."

"But have you done it?"

McCoy grinned.  "Yes.  A few times."

This didn't help Jones.  "There, see?  See!"

By now, though, Spock had come around and had hold of Jones' other arm.  And there was no way he was going to slip away from both of them.

"You're going to thank us for this one day, Ensign," McCoy promised, and they pushed him against the shelves.

There was a big crash.  Mingled with a yelp, and more crashing.  And then, against all common sense and directly in line with convoluted Vulcan logic, Jones slowly shimmered his way into visibility.  McCoy almost felt a faint twinge of disappointment.  Had Jones remained invisible, he never would have let Spock hear the end of it.

I have noticed something.  Jones is slowly but surely taking over.  He had a major part in the last one, he had a major part in this one, and he'll be major in next chapter too.  So I was thinking…how about a spin-off?  "The Adventures of Ensign Jones" maybe.  Comments, anyone?