Chapter Twenty-one –
She waited, holding her breath and listening to the conversation on the other side of the curtain.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Archer asked.
Looking from the commodore to the doctor, Malcolm chose his words carefully. "I was walking down the corridor with you, sir." Subtle differences had caught his eye, and he had begun to worry.
"And?" Jon pressed.
Malcolm gave an exasperated sigh. "What's wrong? What happened? How did I wind up in sickbay?"
Seeing his patient's temper flare, Phlox intervened. "You had temporal displacement disorder, Mr. Reed. You've been in sickbay for three and a half months now –"
"That's ridiculous!" Malcolm interrupted. "I've never been displaced. How can I have a disease when I've never been exposed to the cause? I've never traveled through time, Commodore. Aside from you and T'Pol, I don't even know anybody who has."
"Commodore?"
Malcolm looked at Jon's clothing. "Why are you wearing captain's pips, sir?"
"Malcolm, do you know what date today is?" Phlox questioned.
Scowling, Malcolm crossed his arms over his chest. "Assuming I haven't pulled some sort of Rip Van Winkle act, it's May 10, 2159."
Archer looked from his armory officer to his chief medical officer worriedly. This reeked of Daniels and the temporal cold war. "Malcolm…Today is September 10, 2156."
Archer's words hung in the air as Malcolm tried to comprehend their meaning. "I…I was head of security on Mars. You contacted me…asked me to come here…something about Hoshi. You said Daniels had a plan to thwart the deployment of the Xindi weapon. We wouldn't survive another temporal paradox."
"Malcolm, what are you talking about?" Jon puzzled. "We stopped the Xindi weapon."
Shaking his head, Malcolm tried getting out of the bed. "We couldn't track the Reptilians and Insectiods through the vortex. Earth was destroyed…Hoshi died!"
Phlox placed a steadying hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "Mr. Reed, perhaps you should lay back down."
Malcolm closed his eyes. Nothing made sense anymore. "What is going on?"
"Apparently you did travel through time. You traveled into the past to stop Hoshi from joining Starfleet," Phlox stated, trying to recall what Malcolm had told him upon their first meeting.
Opening his eyes, Malcolm asked, "Is she alive?"
Hoshi moved the curtain aside and stepped past it. "I'm here, Malcolm."
She had his answers. He had moved through her life, had changed her fate. She owed him answers.
"Hoshi." His voice teetered between the brink of fear and hope. Only in his dreams did he remember her features. Her softness…her curves…the sound of her voice. He reached for her, not believing his other senses. If he could touch her, then she would be real.
Intertwining her fingers with his, Hoshi pulled his hand to her lips.
Moments passed as a memory surfaced. It was before she was taken. They had argued. He remembered being jealous…of himself? Errant strands of a conversation long ago played in his mind. Hoshi had mentioned the temporal disease as she had showered kisses over his hand shortly before the Reptilians had taken her.
That had been his reality for the past five years – surviving without her.
"Please…" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Please tell me this isn't a dream."
"I'm real, Malcolm," Hoshi replied, finally understanding what he had been through, why he had done it. "This isn't a dream."
--
Several weeks later –
Shifting in his sleep, Malcolm pulled his wife closer and smiled as she sighed in her sleep. Having learned from his past, he had wasted little time making Hoshi his wife.
Three years were still missing from his life, but he gladly exchanged them for his life with Hoshi. He had gone through a debriefing, unable to tell Starfleet anything specific to time travel. They had listened to the alternate future. Whether they had believed any of it, he had no idea.
Malcolm didn't really care. He had Hoshi now.
The hole in his past worried her more than it did him. A few days into their newfound relationship, she had confided her fear. Even though she was exhausted, she had kept him up, nudging him whenever he had drifted off to sleep. She had been afraid he wasn't going to wake up again. Almost as frightening was the possibility that he would wake up a different Malcolm.
He hadn't considered what it must have been like for her, having her ordered life usurped by him. He still didn't remember any of it. He didn't remember kidnapping her. He didn't remember Risa.
"I can hear you thinking," Hoshi mumbled groggily. "And worrying."
He smiled and nuzzled her neck. "I was wondering if I should bother getting up early and go to the gym. But, seeing as we had such an adventurous workout last night…"
Hoshi peeked at the time and groaned. "It's four in the morning!"
"Early bird catches the worm," he teased and stretched beside her.
Chuckling, Hoshi ran her hand down his chest and mumbled something he couldn't hear.
Malcolm groaned as her hand encircled his sex.
--
Rank had its privilege and being newlyweds did too. Malcolm smiled as he dressed, watching Hoshi sleep. He had turned the alarm off and had informed the captain that she would be late.
The captain hadn't been surprised, simply mumbling something about Ensign Conners extending his shift for a few hours.
Kissing her forehead, Malcolm walked out the door of their cabin and into a large, unfamiliar room.
Before he could adjust, a weak voice called out. "I knew you could do it, Malcolm."
Malcolm turned and saw an elderly Jonathan Archer sitting up in bed. Dread and alarm swarmed through him as his seemingly perfect reality changed before him.
"Don't be alarmed, Malcolm," Jon said calmly. "I wanted to explain…I needed to explain what happened."
"You have to send me back." Malcolm panicked. "Hoshi –"
"You'll be back before she wakes up."
"What do you want?"
"You, T'Pol and I are the only ones who remember the way things could have been…that thread where everything ended."
Malcolm shifted uncomfortably, remembering the billions of lives that had been lost.
"Daniels was wrong to focus solely on me. I couldn't have done everything I did without the crew. Hoshi –"
"Leave her alone," Malcolm warned.
Jon winced as pain ran through him. "The adjustments have been made. The threads have tightened."
Frowning, Malcolm approached Jon. It was then that he saw a figure in the corner.
Daniels stood aside, waiting for Archer's last wish to be fulfilled.
"What's wrong with him?" Malcolm asked the temporal agent.
"Temporal displacement disorder," Daniels stated softly.
Malcolm shook his head in disbelief.
"Your thread of origin dissipated as soon as the Xindi weapon was stopped. When you tried to return, you returned to a temporal safe house four hundred years into the future. I contacted Archer. He decided to send you to the nearest viable alternate thread."
"Why don't I remember the mission?"
"Some memory loss is expected during the overwriting process."
Malcolm frowned. "Is that what you call what happened to me – overwriting?"
"You were in no condition to make the decision," Daniels stated. "Archer made the least intrusive decision possible."
"Malcolm," Jon whispered. "I'm sorry."
Malcolm grabbed Jon's hand. "Sir."
"You've got to stop her, Malcolm."
"Who?" Malcolm asked as a chill ran down his spine. Please, God! Not Hoshi.
"Your daughter."
Malcolm turned to Daniels as Jon started babbling. "Who?"
"Inari," the temporal agent murmured softly. "Follow me."
Reluctantly, Malcolm followed him.
"You have to return now," Daniels said, opening a door. "It's better this way."
Malcolm felt a sense of relief coupled with frustration. He conceded that the man was right and nodded in acknowledgment. Stepping through the door, Malcolm saw the walls around him warp into the familiar bulkheads of the corridor.
He flipped his communicator open and paused. Did the captain need to know he'd had a visit from Daniels? Did Hoshi? His decision made, he flipped the communicator shut, and walked back to his cabin.
Hoshi was sprawled across their bed. There was no need to disturb her peaceful slumber.
TBC --