Chapter Eight –
Scanning the ledger at the Interspecies Medical Exchange, Malcolm frowned. Phlox had better be here. Hoshi didn't have much time left.
Too much time had already passed. After returning the shuttle to the university, he had hopped the fastest transport to San Francisco. Now he stood in front of the ledger, ready to kidnap the only person who could synthesis a substitute antidote for Hoshi.
In hindsight, Malcolm realized why the Suliban hadn't followed them into the jungle. Hoshi was as good as dead. They had tagged her with Xanal poison – a poison from the future. There was no way to get the serum ingredients for chemicals modern medicine had yet to encounter.
Hurriedly, his eyes scanned the listing, and he pressed the elevator button to the third floor. The myriad images of the last few days played in his mind. There were so many questions – too many what-ifs. If he had only handled things differently…if he had only been there when Hoshi had been taken.
The elevator opened and he walked down the hall. Phlox's office door slid open and a young woman greeted him, "Can I help you?"
"Is the doctor in?" Malcolm asked quickly.
"Yes," she replied with a smile. "Do you have an appointment?"
Malcolm walked past the receptionist without answering.
"Sir!" she shouted.
The door opened and Malcolm walked in, startling the man who sat behind the desk. "I need your help."
"Dr. Phlox, I'm so sorry, I –" the receptionist apologized, running over to her boss.
Phlox stared at Malcolm, his eyes wide with curiosity.
Malcolm placed his PADD on Phlox's desk and slid it closer to the doctor. "I need an antidote to counteract the following compound."
The receptionist ran off.
Glancing at the PADD, the Denobulan's eyebrows quirked.
Hearing the receptionist's panicked voice calling for security, Malcolm started explaining. "I know this is going to sound impossible, but I'm from the future. I've been sent back to prevent…something. Another race with the ability to time travel is trying to assassinate a…key figure. The poison has been delivered and the subject will die in approximately thirty hours."
Phlox's eyes widened and he glanced down at the information again.
Malcolm held his breath. A clatter in the waiting room signaled the arrival of a security detail and he placed his hand over his phase pistol, ready to stun anybody who got in his way.
"Is everything okay, Dr. Phlox?" a curious voice asked from the doorway.
Phlox grinned. "Yes," he replied. "You may leave." He motioned for Malcolm to have a seat. "Mister –"
"Reed," Malcolm supplied, but didn't take the seat.
"Mr. Reed and I were just sitting down for a patient consultation." Phlox leaned on his desk. "Could you please close the door behind you?"
The door clicked shut behind him and Malcolm moved his hand away from the phase pistol.
Picking up the PADD, Phlox studied the screen and tsked. "How far in the future are you from?" he asked as though discussing the weather.
Malcolm shifted uncomfortably.
Phlox shrugged, realizing the man before him would only divulge enough information to get what he wanted. "My colleague, Dr. Reasl studies cellular degeneration and he theorizes that time travel is possible given – "
"Can you synthesize an antidote?" Malcolm interrupted.
Unperturbed by the man's manners, Phlox studied the information on the PADD again before rendering a decision. "This compound is similar to a rare Orion aphrodisiac, which paralyzes a partner for sexual purposes. It's primarily used in brothels for role playing – "
"Can you do it? Will it counteract the poison?"
"How long has the person been exposed to the toxin? What species are they?"
"Approximately six hours. Human," Malcolm said.
Phlox frowned. "Why are you unable to get the regular serum for this…Xanal poison? I've never heard of the ingredients for the serum."
"Xanal poison is from a solar system Denobulans haven't been to yet," Malcolm tried explaining.
The doctor stared at Mr. Reed. "I do have the items in my lab needed to synthesis the antidote for the Orion compound, but I would need to run some tests before I could approximate the appropriate dosage of this…Xanal poisoning."
"How long?" Malcolm asked abruptly.
Standing, Phlox opened the door and motioned for Malcolm to follow him. "I'll know if I can synthesis the necessary proteins within twenty-four hours. Then it may take another day or two for the cultures to grow."
--
She studied the components, her back sore from lying there and staring up at the underside of the UT console. Who the hell put this thing together? It was a disgrace.
"Damn!" she yelled, not really caring if anybody heard her. The skeleton crew of engineering and armory personnel was probably asleep anyway.
Yanking a wire and shocking herself, Hoshi shouted again. "Shit!"
"What are you doing, Ensign?"
A loud crack reverberated around the bridge, and Hoshi felt a knot rising on her forehead. "Fuck!"
Grabbing her by an ankle, Malcolm pulled her from beneath the console. "I'm sure Commander Tucker would not be appreciative of you pulling the wiring out of the UT," he stated irritably.
Lack of sleep coupled with strained nerves finally won out, and Hoshi's sensible side vanished. "Commander Tucker doesn't know what the hell he's doing," she replied, rising to her stocking feet. The uniform Crewman Rostov had brought her was a little baggy, but the boots were a total loss.
"Commander Tucker is a very capable chief engineer and – "
"Commander Tucker not only put the translation matrix in backwards -- it's upside down. The wiring is all wrong and –"
"—your superior officer, as am I."
She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. A blush rose in her cheeks as Malcolm's words repeated in her mind. She was to act as though she didn't know him and she was acting anything but. She tossed the spanner into the chair. "My apologies, sir."
He eyed her warily. Her eyes were glassy and wild and her cheeks were flushed. She looked feverish. "Come with me."
Malcolm gave no room for argument and held the turbolift door open for her.
Hoshi followed silently, her mind blank…her ability to concentrate gone.
When the turbolift door opened, she closed her eyes, trying to keep the hallway in front of her from spinning. She clutched the side of the doorway and tried to follow the lieutenant, but sank to her knees instead.
"Ensign!" he called out in alarm, putting an arm around her waist.
She muttered something, and her head lolled to one side.
Dragging her into sickbay, he laid her on the nearest biobed, then started digging for a medical tricorder. He broke the seal on the new equipment and waved it over her body. Her temperature was thirty-nine point four degrees Celsius and rising. Malcolm strapped her to the table and hit the com unit. "Lieutenant Reed to Commander Tucker."
Malcolm glanced over at the unconscious woman and waited for a reply.
A groggy, accented voice finally replied. "What is it now, Malcolm?"
"We have a medical emergency in sickbay."
"Contact the complex and see if they can spare their doctor," Trip ordered. "I'll be right there."
TBC --