Chapter Nine –

Malcolm watched the doctor run meticulous scans and nod at the results. He had downloaded the necessary medical information into Phlox's computer, not really giving a damn about potential ramifications for the future.

Rubbing his now bloodshot eyes, Malcolm yawned, the lack of sleep over the past twenty-four hours catching up to him. He was still waiting for a more definitive answer from Phlox, but he had already guessed at the outcome.

During the last few hours, he had watched Hoshi's thread weave around the one he had always known. Although it was fluidic, it was close enough to the original thread to give him hope – hope that he had bought her enough time.

He placed his head on the counter to rest and waited for Phlox's solution, unknowingly slipping into a restless sleep.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. The captain is still hasn't appointed a CMO yet," Trip informed him through the window between observation and decon. Dr. Proffitt says it looks like influenza, and we just need to keep her temperature under control…not to mention keep her isolated."

Leaning against the window, Malcolm frowned. "But Commander…I haven't the time to play nursemaid, and –"

"Keep your shirt on, Lieutenant," the engineer admonished. "Your parts aren't even in and we've got plenty of time to install the armory systems. Besides, if she does have something contagious, you've been exposed."

Malcolm blustered at his commanding officer's retreating back. "This is just bloody wonderful," he ranted at no one in particular for he was alone except for the unconscious woman behind him.

He leaned against the wall and glared at her, his animosity toward her growing. First, she arrives unannounced. Then she doesn't bring anything with her. Now she's ill and he's stuck with her.

Here he was – a senior officer on board Earth's warp five flagship with an absentee captain and a first officer who liked to delegate. This was just too bloody brilliant. Enterprise was to make her maiden voyage in less than a month and none of the weapons systems was online. He had some components, but not all of them. Hell, they were fortunate the grav-plating was installed.

He sat next to the ensign and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Poison," he heard her whisper in her sleep, clearly caught up in the throes of the fever.

"Mr. Reed?"

Malcolm woke with a start and looked around, disoriented.

"Did you hear me, Mr. Reed?" asked Phlox as he adjusted his microscope.

"N-no," Malcolm muttered, his thoughts still enmeshed in the dream.

"I've isolated the proteins and started work on the cultures. With any luck, I should be able to counteract the effects of the poison," the doctor announced happily.

"H- how long was I asleep? How long have you been working?" Malcolm rattled off the questions and stretched his arms over his head. Was the dream an altered reality? Was he slipping into a lingering temporal psychosis?

"I didn't realize you were asleep," the Denobulan replied. "So I don't know how long. I've been working on the antidote for four hours, and we are well ahead of schedule. Now I we just have to wait for the cultures to grow."

"How long will that take?"

"At least twenty-four hours," Phlox stated, then grew unusually contemplative.

Malcolm sighed. The wide, suggestive look the Denobulan gave him made him smirk. It was the "we've got the time so why not tell me what's going on" look.

"I'm particularly fond of the green jello they serve in the cafeteria," announced Phlox as though he was in the middle of a conversation. "Would you care to join me?"

Malcolm followed him, realizing there was little point staying in the lab and watching the cultures grow.

They walked down the silent, dimly lit halls, Malcolm's apprehension assuaged. He knew Phlox could do it. The antidote would be delivered and Hoshi would recover – the memories of their time together firmly ingrained in his consciousness. Those memories were the only thing keeping him sane.

The assassins were still out there. But they would never risk a direct attack on Enterprise. Hoshi would be safe as long as she followed his instructions.

His choices made, Malcolm followed Phlox to a table, his eyes lingering on the numerous selections of green jello on the doctor's tray.

Spearing the wiggly food, Phlox slurped his first mouthful and smiled. "Once the antidote is ready, where shall I send it?"

Chewing his sandwich, Malcolm swallowed. "To Dr. Proffitt at the warp five complex. Tell her you examined Hoshi…Ensign Hoshi Sato a week before she left, and you suspected she had the beginnings of some rare tropical disease."

Phlox set his fork down. "I know Dr. Proffitt. I'm sure she won't mind the hourly administration of the antidote, although the complex is terribly understaffed. I'll never understand Earth's political system. Although I must admit to being somewhat disappointed. I was hoping to meet the patient. Is the Ensign from the future too?"

He laughed. At least the doctor was subtle compared to Hoshi. "I wondered when you were going to start asking questions again."

Smiling his trademark grin, Phlox slurped some more jello and waited for an answer.

"No. She's not."

"Why are you here?" the Denobulan asked a more open-ended question.

Sobering, Malcolm shoved his plate away as he hesitated before answering. "I'm here to prevent something," he replied.

"I'm assuming Ensign Sato is some sort of key…a figurehead of a future event since the antidote is for her," Phlox surmised.

Malcolm bowed his head, appreciating the doctor's astute sense of discretion. "I need not tell you that what I'm about to disclose goes no further than this table."

Setting his fork down, the doctor nodded his head.

"In a few weeks, Captain Jonathan Archer will approach you and ask you to be chief medical officer on Enterprise. You accept the position," Malcolm paused.

Phlox started to say something, but Malcolm started talking again.

"I'm the armory officer on board and Ho – Ensign Sato is the communications officer."

Staring at the man across from him, Phlox waited for him to continue. "Is that it?"

"I've already told you more than I'm supposed to," Malcolm replied. "You've got to realize that you mustn't repeat any of this. You mustn't treat the ensign and I any differently than any of the other crew."

"I see," answered Phlox, spearing another piece of the dessert. "Does Ensign Sato know of your attempt to save her?"

"Yes."

"I'm no temporal theorist, but it sounds to me as though the damage has already been done," Phlox countered.

"There's more," Malcolm said.

Phlox cocked his head to one side. "Oh?"

"The other race I mentioned. They are still here…in this present. Once they realize the poison has been counteracted, they will try to kill her again," Malcolm explained. "I need you to…spy for me."

"I don't think I understand," the Denobulan puzzled.

Sliding a small tubular device across the table, Malcolm looked the doctor in the eye. "I can't influence my own 'timeline.' I need somebody to look after her for me. If she's in danger, signal me."

Phlox picked up the small device and examined it. "I look forward to meeting you soon, Mr. Reed."

--

"How is she?" a familiar voice asked through the haze in her head.

"She's still receiving hourly injections," another voice replied. "Dr. Proffitt assures me she will make a full recovery."

"And the doctor cleared her from decon?"

"With all due respect, Captain. I wouldn't have removed Ensign Sato from decon if it presented a danger to the ship." She heard a drip of sarcasm in the comment and opened her eyes.

"You gave us quite a scare, Hoshi," Archer said, smiling down at her.

Trying to sit up, Hoshi closed her eyes. The room was tilting and she just wanted it to stop.

"Although I admire your dedication…why did you come? I thought you were teaching. Trip has personally reassembled the UT to your specifications…" Archer's statement hung in the air.

What could she say to him? I just wanted to make sure the UT was installed properly before I kicked the bucket? It really is your armory officer's fault anyway. Luckily he managed to get the antidote to me in time. I wonder what kind of story he concocted.

Jon handed her some water. "Here. Sip this."

Sipping the water, she glanced at Malcolm. He looked haggard and angry. "Sir –" her voice cracked.

"You really should have given us some advance warning, Ensign."

Hoshi shuddered. She could tell this assignment was going to be a double-edged sword as Jon slipped into his captain voice. If it weren't for the opportunity to develop the UT, she never would have allowed him to talk her into joining Starfleet. Some friend he turned out to be.

"Firstly, you had the entire complex on alert. Your pilot didn't file a flight plan, much less think of the consequences of flying into restricted space. Secondly, you haven't been cleared by Starfleet medical," he added pointedly.

"I – I," she started.

"Once the CMO arrives, you will report to him for your physical," the captain admonished further. "Until then, you're restricted to your quarters. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Hoshi replied quickly, wanting to smack the smirk off Lt. Malcolm Reed's face. Smarmy bastard! She glanced at Malcolm's hand, remembering the wound she had given him. God I hope it gets infected again!