Spirituality was a concept that had always proven elusive to him. If he couldn't experience it with one of his five senses, it didn't exist. For Malcolm, there was no God, just as there was no heaven. Hell was very real to him. Most of his life had been spent in hellish conditions.
As he walked down the hall, however, he prayed. His invocation made no sense to him as only Hoshi's name repeated over and over in his head. Occasionally, he mumbled something regarding God, but as he wallowed near the edge of a nightmarish hell, his hope wavered. He prayed for Phlox too – that he be able to find a cure.
Exhaling, Malcolm opened the observation window to decon. "How is...are they?"
Phlox's back was to him, and Archer looked up. Nothing was said between the two men as Malcolm followed Archer's eyes. Nearest the observation window was a body covered with a blanket. Ensign Laxdal hadn't made it.
"How is she?" asked Malcolm, his voice a reverent whisper.
Irritably, Phlox replied, "I can't isolate the virus." He handled a hypospray and injected it into Hoshi's neck. "Her core temperature is forty- one degrees Celsius and rising."
Phlox moved and Malcolm could see Hoshi. Her hair was limp and stuck to her face and her undergarments were the only things protecting her modesty. "Bryant said the virus feeds off energy and heat. What if – "
"That's it!" Phlox exclaimed like a madman, gathering Hoshi up in his arms. "Captain, help me carry Hoshi. Be careful not to touch her wound. If I'm right, that's the only way it can spread. Mr. Reed, tell Commander Tucker I need a tub. I need a way to maintain the temperature of the water below freezing if possible. We're going to conduct a hypothermic near-drowning on Hoshi."
"You're going to drown Hoshi?" Archer asked in disbelief, stopping mid- stride.
"Lieutenant Sato is young and we can control the circumstances of the submersion," Phlox replied. "I'm open to suggestions if either one of you have anything to offer."
Jon looked at Malcolm and Malcolm looked at Jon as Phlox heaved Hoshi into his arms. "Then get out of my way!"
--
A look of pure terror flitted across Malcolm's face as they lowered Hoshi into the water. The fever had such a hold on her, she barely responded.
Phlox injected another hypospray into her neck. What it was for, Malcolm didn't ask. "She shouldn't struggle much because she's unconscious. Her airways will relax more quickly and there will be less chance for any permanent damage."
"Are you certain?" whispered Malcolm, holding Hoshi by the shoulders.
"Step away, Malcolm," Archer ordered, not even giving Malcolm the time to protest. Jon merely looked at Phlox and nodded.
Malcolm expected her to thrash about as the freezing water filled her lungs, but he couldn't watch and turned his head. Even the sound of thrashing water couldn't make him look.
"Captain, you must help me subdue her," Phlox huffed.
There was a scanner next to the tub and Malcolm watched as all measurement of life zeroed out. He felt cold.
Phlox walked over to the scanner. "The virus is already responding," he announced hopefully and walked over to a table. "Once we revive her, I'll induce a coma to ease any complications."
"How long -- " Archer asked hesitantly.
"The shorter the better," Phlox replied and paused. "If what Mr. Reed says is accurate, the virus won't be able to survive without heat. The fever wasn't responding to anything. She would have died within the hour."
"Why?" Malcolm asked softly. "Why couldn't you just submerge her and keep her alive?"
Phlox ran a scanner over the tub. "Viruses are tricky. If I left her alive and merely submerged her, the virus could have hid anywhere. As it is, the virus is already ninety-six percent gone and it may only be less than a minute before it is gone completely. I'll be needing your help to revive her."
Crewman Cutler hovered near Phlox and readied his supplies. Phlox threw the scanner down and reached into the tub. "That's it. The virus is gone. Help me get her to the table."
--
Guilt is a powerful motivator, one that can drive a person to forsake themselves and their beliefs. Hoshi was alive and was expected to make a full recovery, but the mere presence of Bryant on board overshadowed the news.
Two days had passed and Hoshi had remained in a coma. The man who had put her there asked nothing of his victim.
Bryant hadn't said another word regarding his capture or his accommodations, merely staring through the EM field that surrounded him.
Malcolm wanted to kill the bastard, but he needed information. Bryant had said the assassination attempt wasn't about him. It was bigger.
Sitting next to Hoshi in sickbay, Malcolm touched her hand. Bryant didn't know how close he had come. Ignoring his feelings for Hoshi was a self- imposed agony, one he gladly suffered to protect her.
He hadn't counted on her jumping into the middle of a firefight. Part of him wanted to shake her silly while the other part wanted to hold her. Either way, she was still in danger. Everybody was until he resolved his conflict with Bryant.
Gently he stroked her hand.
"It might help if you talk to her, Malcolm. They say it helps."
Malcolm jerked backed as Archer walked up to him. "Sir." Malcolm acknowledged with a curt nod, placing his professional mask on.
"How is she?"
Noting Archer's disheveled appearance, Malcolm relaxed. Obviously, recent events were keeping him awake too.
Malcolm sighed. "Phlox is going to bring her out of the coma tomorrow. We'll know more then."
An awkward pause settled between them.
"She'll be fine," Archer said more to himself than Malcolm. "I keep feeling her hand clutch my arm as I held her under."
Malcolm shuddered as the image flooded his mind. "Phlox made the right decision. The virus would have killed her. Luckily, Hoshi only suffered a superficial wound. Laxdal was hit directly in his chest."
A pained look crossed Archer's face at the mention of Laxdal's death. "Has there been any word on the investigation."
Bowing his head, Malcolm shook his head. "By the time my team returned to the scene, the Orion government had already swept up the evidence. It's bad for the tourism business," he scoffed. "There was nothing left behind."
"Damn," Archer cursed softly. "Has Bryant said anything?"
Malcolm bristled at the mention of the name. "No, sir. He hasn't. He won't either. His training – "
"Do whatever is necessary to find out who's behind the attack." Archer's voice was low, almost a desperate whisper.
"Sir?" Malcolm's inflection held a note of astonishment in it. There were several ways he could get the information from Bryant. Starfleet sanctioned none of them. He wasn't sure if he had heard his commanding officer right. "There are ways, but – "
"Starfleet doesn't allow them," Archer finished saying.
Malcolm watched his captain as Jon looked down at Hoshi.
"No official reports regarding the prisoner exist yet. As far as I'm concerned, the man doesn't exist. Here's a list of...coercive drugs Phlox has at his disposal. You've been taken off active duty for the next few days."
He could hardly believe his ears as his captain gave him carte blanche and a bubble of doubt crept past his resolve. "Sir – "
"Any means necessary, Malcolm. If Enterprise or any of her crew are in danger, I want to know about it," Archer replied calmly.
An uneasy respect grew for his captain and Malcolm nodded his understanding, hoping if there were no more words spoken it would make his job less disreputable. Either way, he knew he wouldn't be here when Hoshi woke up.
He took a nearby PADD off the biobed and started to input some data into it. Stopping, he erased what he had typed and set it down. "Perhaps it would be better if I just left well enough alone."
"Malcolm?"
Hearing the question in the captain's voice, Malcolm grasped the PADD Archer had handed him. He was going to compose a letter to Hoshi, but something had stopped him. Perhaps it was the task ahead of him – the dismal nature of brutally interrogating someone. It tended to eat at one's soul.
"Nothing, sir," Malcolm stated grimly. "I'll start questioning the prisoner right away."