A/N -- Okay! Lots of thanks & many boxes of virtual chocolates to Rinne (I hope you like nougats & cremes J )--- My new Beta!!! Thank you Rinne for getting rid of some of my more cringeworthy grammatical errors. I also fixed the shield thingy & the Federation thingy. If I missed any corrections, it's my fault. Anyway, I reposted chapters 1-3 along with this added chapter.
Thanks to all who reviewed! TLI -- I like that quote & you're right, very much like Trip … Luna -- I hope you don't work on the weekend :)… Exploded Pen-- Please… not the pointy stick!… Tata -- well… ;) … KaliedescopeCat -- Yup, definitely a place to avoid, but I'm glad you're enjoying… stage manager, vanishing2000, Reedie & ally -- Still going, sorry about the wait… WhtevrHpnd2Mary -- Thanks for telling me about the shields again. Kcat mentioned it, so I realized I needed to change it, but didn't think of the consequences until you pointed it out. All fixed now… Sam23 -- Thanks!… Celebrodwen --Close to the end now. Just a few more updates. -- J
On with the story!
The Price Of Fear
Chapter 4
I
The search started again at daybreak. They moved briskly with T'Pol in the lead, her scanner outstretched. The captain and two Tuin surrounded her in guard position, alert for any dangerous movement. Most of the search area was covered during the previous day's efforts, so it didn't take long before T'Pol's pace faltered, then increased substantially.
"I may be registering a human life sign, Captain," she said, not looking up from her readings.
The fact that T'Pol only referred to one human life sign was not lost on Archer. His stomach clenched as he hurried after her, but his mouth refused to work. He passed T'Pol as they burst into the clearing... and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
There was Trip, sitting next to the door of an old barn. He was slumped, but seemed to be awake. Archer rushed over to his friend, his knee dropping audibly as he crouched next to him.
"Trip?" he asked tentatively. The Commander definitely seemed out of it. Archer looked at the makeshift sling before finally taking in the disheveled appearance of his chief engineer. His clothes were tattered and dirty, his face muddied. Were those splatters of blood? What struck him most though, was the hollow look in Trip's eyes.
Archer glanced up to T'Pol who now knelt on the other side. He looked back to Trip and put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. Trip turned bleary eyes to face the captain.
"Where's Malcolm?" Archer asked.
Trip shook his head and looked away. "He's in there," he said, deliberately looking away from the barn door. T'Pol stood quickly and moved toward the door.
"He died last night," Trip said, then dropped his chin to his chest. "He's dead Jon…he…I couldn't…" He stopped talking and clenched his eyes shut.
Archer put a comforting hand on his shoulder, then nodded to one of the Tuin that had come to stand next to them. The man assumed a kneeling position next to Trip as Archer moved quickly to follow T'Pol into the darkened barn.
T'Pol was already kneeling beside the still body of Malcolm Reed, moving her scanner over him.
"Commander Tucker was correct," she said. "There are no life signs, Captain." Then she paused, a puzzled expression on her face.
"What is it?" Archer demanded.
"There are some unusual energy readings," T'Pol explained. "I've never seen anything like them before. There are no life signs, but this energy seems to be traveling through the Lieutenant's body on a cellular level." Then she squinted at the readout as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. "There are also no signs of cellular degeneration. Cellular decay begins almost immediately after death but there is no evidence of it." She glanced up at Archer.
"Do you mean to say he's alive?" he asked.
"As I said, there are no life signs," she said slowly, "but he does not seem to be dead either." She looked at him meaningfully, although he still wasn't sure what she was saying.
She continued. "However mysterious the cause, the effects seem to be similar to the those of cryogenics, or other preservatory methods. The damage to his body however is extensive. I suggest we move him back to the ship as quickly as possible. Perhaps the doctor can still help."
Archer nodded and started to stand up. At that moment, a loud crash drew their attention toward the door. A woman's loud shrieks pierced the air. Archer spun and headed for the door, leaving T'Pol behind with Malcolm.
The brightness outside was in stark contrast to the darkness inside the barn. Archer squinted as his eyes adjusted to the spectacle before him. A woman was held between the two Tuin that had accompanied them. There were also two others with them, one holding a young girl by her upper arm. She tugged a little at her captor, but her struggles were nothing compared to those of the woman.
She shrieked at the top of her lungs, jarring the men holding her with the ferocity of her movements.
"You cannot have her," she spat, her cries almost indecipherable. "I will not let you take her."
Then she wrenched her hand toward her and sunk her teeth into one of her captor's arms. He let out a scream and released her and she fell to the ground with a feral look on her face. They all converged around her, each taking hold of one of her limbs, careful to stay away from her sharp teeth as she thrashed.
"What's going on here?" Archer demanded as he approached the barely subdued woman.
"She is a criminal," the Tuin with the bloody arm said caustically, "a kidnapper and child abuser." The last statement drew a renewed bout of thrashing and shrieking from the woman. The Tuin used his opportunity to take revenge for his arm, slamming her head to the ground. Another kicked her as she lay dazed. Archer pushed himself in front of the woman's attackers.
"Where I come from people are not judged until they are found guilty in a court of law," he said, glaring at them.
"Then you are a long way from home," the bleeding Tuin snarled. They stood for a moment, glaring at each other before one of the others noticed something.
"The girl," he said, barely hidden panic edging his tone. "She's gone!"
II
Trip had pulled himself up out of the dust by the barn door and followed the girl inside. It was all he could do not to turn away when his eyes fell on Malcolm's body. T'Pol knelt next to it, intent on her readings, but glanced up as her sensitive ears picked up their approach over the noise outside. The girl continued moving forward silently, then knelt near T'Pol staring fixedly at her.
"I am Iana," she said as if explaining her presence. "I must complete what I have started."
"To what are you referring?" T'Pol asked, her brow wrinkling slightly. The girl reached a hand toward Malcolm, but T'Pol stopped her with a hand around her wrist.
"It's okay Sub-Commander," Trip said hoarsely. "It's okay, let her finish."
T'Pol looked up at Trip, her face a picture of confusion. Trip nodded and she released her grip on Iana's hand. Trip watched as the girl let her hand rest on Malcolm's chest and her eyes closed. Her face took on the aura of an angel as the now familiar glow surrounded her and spread to Malcolm.
Trip watched in a combination of anticipation and horror as he looked at the girl's face. Her youthful features and black hair seemed bleached by the unearthly illumination. Was her hair really becoming white? Were there really creases forming in the once smooth face? Then he looked down at Malcolm's face. He could have sworn the pallid mask of death he was wearing was taking on a life-like hue. It was as if they were all sharing a dream. A miraculous dream. He gaped in spite of the fact he was rapidly coming to believe that this wasn't really happening at all.
Then the girl fell on top of Malcolm and the glow began to fade. Her hair really did seem to be white, her hands like an old woman's. Trip watched as T'Pol's hand hovered tentatively over the girl. Iana was still except for the steady movement of breathing. Even this, Trip realized, did not come from her anymore. The breathing was Malcolm's. The Lieutenant's eyes flickered open as the light faded and the girl crumbled over him. Her ashes were gone before a draft of wind from the open door had a chance to take them away.
III
Archer appeared first in a shaft of light from the doorway. He rushed in with the Tuin right behind him. They suspected the girl had entered the barn and Archer was determined to stop them from hurting her too.
The girl was not there, but another sight brought him up short, his head reeling in shock. Malcolm's eyes were open and T'Pol and Trip were kneeling on either side of him. Trip stared down, eyes fixed on a cloth lying over the Lieutenant. Archer smiled incredulously. Malcolm was alive! He was just trying to register this in his mind when the woman from outside flew into the room. She stopped and stared along with the rest of them for a brief instant before kneeling near Malcolm and dissolving into tears. Her hands hovered over what Archer realized was the girl's dress. The smile fell off of his face.
"Abella?" Trip said. He put a hand on her shoulder but she shook it violently away. "I didn't know…" He shook his head disbelievingly. His composure at that moment was like a fragile shell ready to break apart under its own weight. "I didn't know what would happen."
"She didn't know what would happen either," the woman said, her angry voice laced with despair. "I tried to tell her but she wouldn't listen to me." She snatched Iana's dress from where it lay on top of Malcolm.
Startled, the Lieutenant tried to move away from her, but it seemed to be difficult for him. He started to become agitated. Trip put a hand on his shoulder and he relaxed again.
"Malcolm?" Trip started. He snatched a brief glance to where Abella sat, head bowed, then looked back down at his friend.
Malcolm turned his head. He seemed to be making an effort to focus on the Commander's face. After a pause his lips began to move. "Trip," he mouthed, but no sound came out.
"'S'ok Malcolm," Trip said as T'Pol passed her scanner over the Lieutenant again.
"T'Pol, what happened?" Archer asked.
Trip answered out of turn. "She…the girl, she saved him. She's gone, she…. " His words trailed off as he nodded toward the dress in Abella's hand.
Archer watched quietly while T'Pol worked. He noted that Trip was looking at the woman again while his hand rested on Malcolm's shoulder. The look of grief in the Commander's haunted eyes was now replaced with guilt. Abella clutched the dress in her dirty knuckles oblivious to anything or anybody around her. She wept brokenly, soaking the cloth in hot, inconsolable tears. Archer tore his eyes away. There would be time to mourn…later.
"Sub-Commander?" the captain asked looking on expectantly.
She glanced up at the captain then looked back down at Malcolm. "Lieutenant Reed, do you know who I am?"
Malcolm shifted his gaze to her. "T'Pol?" he asked quietly.
"Do you know where you are?" she continued.
"I…I don't…know." He seemed to speak with an effort, his eyes darting in confusion as if he were searching for answers written in the air in front of him. T'Pol glanced up at Archer, then Malcolm continued.
"I…think… were we attacked?" he asked finally, his brow knitting. Then he became agitated again, looking around urgently. "Where's Trip? I think… he was hurt."
"I'm right here Malcolm." Trip's hand was still on the Lieutenant's shoulder, but Malcolm only just noticed it. He looked at Trip gratefully even though he didn't quite seem to focus on him.
"It…was all…a bad dream then," Malcolm said in a shaky voice, sighing in relief. "I…thought…." He shuddered visibly.
Archer locked eyes with Trip and shook his head in a silent warning. He knelt down near T'Pol where Malcolm could see him better.
"Everything's going to be fine…" Archer said. "We've come to take you and Trip back to Enterprise." He placed a hand on Malcolm's. After a brief moment he nodded to T'Pol then stood and moved away. She followed him a short distance until their low voices were out of earshot of the small group.
"He seems disoriented," Archer said.
"I am not sure that is entirely unexpected," T'Pol answered. "Considering that he has, after all, come back from the dead."
Archer nodded slowly as T'Pol turned her head slightly to look at the readings saved on the scanner.
"Besides the lingering confusion, there seem to be some physical problems as well." T'Pol continued. "The Lieutenant is exhibiting a fever. It is as if he is fighting some sort of infection."
"Is it serious?" Archer asked.
"I cannot determine that," T'Pol said, frowning at the readout. "However, I find it puzzling that the girl could have repaired such extensive physical damage, but still have left an infection."
"Phlox needs to look at him," Archer said, turning back toward the others. "I think it's time we got back to Enterprise and sorted everything out."
"Agreed," T'Pol said. She turned to follow him, but they were both stopped short by weapons drawn by the Tuin. Archer reflexively jerked his hand toward his phase pistol, but was stopped when the Tuin with the bloody arm leveled his pistol at Trip's head. Another Tuin came forward to take the captain's weapon.
"You will not be returning to your ship," he said.
"I don't know what you're after," Archer started, " but this is unacceptable. We came here to find our people and bring them home." He paused, but received nothing but impassive stares. "I don't think your leader will be happy when she finds out how we have been treated."
"Everything we do is by the command of the Keeper," he replied. "We were sent to find the girl. She was the Healer. But she has transferred to this…alien." He all but spat the last word out nodding at Malcolm. "He is the Healer now. You will return with us."
"He's sick," Archer said, "and Commander Tucker is injured. They need medical help."
"They will have all the help they need," the Tuin said, "back at camp." He waved his pistol at Archer. "Now move."
IV
They were forced into the dim shrine without a word. Malcolm and T'Pol were in the lead with Abella close behind still clutching Iana's dress . Trip stumbled against Archer as he was shoved from behind, then the door snapped shut. The captain turned his head with an acid look at one of the guards, then turned to help Trip. He laid a supporting hand on the Commander's shoulder as he started to waver, then caught him by the arm as he faltered.
Malcolm and T'Pol looked over in concern and moved toward them until all four were clustered on the side of the room near the door. Trip looked up at them slowly as he regained his footing.
" 'M ok," he said nodding at Archer.
The Captain looked at him skeptically, then turned his head as the door opened again. The guards pushed the small group toward the center of the room and Anda, the Keeper, followed them in.
Archer looked at her, a hard edge to his stare. "I believe there has been a misunderstanding," he began with more bluff and bravado then he felt. "One that I expect you will rectify quickly."
"Really, Captain?" she asked. Her manner was different than before, less than conciliatory.
"My men have been found," Archer said. "They require medical attention. We must be allowed to return to our ship."
Anda glared at him but didn't respond. She turned briskly toward one of the Tuin. "Where is the girl?" she demanded.
"She is gone." The man looked as if he were being pierced with a thousand nails. He cringed as he spoke, gesturing at Malcolm. "She passed the gift to him."
"We did not witness it personally," another Tuin added, a little more bravely. "The girl went into the barn. She disappeared and we found nothing but her clothing left behind." He nodded toward Malcolm. "This one lay on the ground before her. He was thought to be dead only moments before."
Anda blanched visibly. "Could it be true?" she asked. She paused, then made her way to the case that contained the book.
"Could you please explain why we are prisoners?" Archer asked. His eyes followed her across the room as she walked to the shrine where the book was held.
Anda stood over the case for a moment, then reached inside and pulled the book out. She glanced up meaningfully, then slammed the cover shut loudly, drawing gasps from most of the surrounding Tuin.
"We have no further need of the Book," she said, approaching Archer with an unwavering stare. The agitated whispers of her people filled the room. Finally she stood in front of him, the leather-bound volume held between her hands in front of her.
"The last pages told of the recovery of the girl… the 'Healer'," Anda said. "After that our mission was to be completed.
"Our planet has had a Healer since time immemorial. She is a beacon of hope for every generation. She is a balancer of inequity, the cornerstone on which our beliefs are built. She is always female and always Tuin."
"If that is the case," Archer said a little impatiently, "would you care to explain why we are still being held here?"
"The Healer's disappearance ten years ago caused internal divisiveness and created an environment of war and strife. It has been our mission to return our people to the state of grace we enjoyed before. We cannot reclaim that peace without the Healer." Anda turned slightly toward Malcolm. "If there is a chance that your friend could carry on the legacy, there may still be hope for us."
A bitter laugh filled the room and echoed in the silence that followed. All eyes turned to where Abella stood against the far wall.
"How few were saved," she scoffed, "and at what cost?" She looked down at the dress in her hands again. "I watched so many of them suffer and die. They healed some, yes, but each time they lost a little of themselves until they withered into nothing." She threw an imploring gaze at the Keeper. "After what we have seen, I do not know how you could bear to witness it again."
"The people need the Healer," Anda said, her tone almost supplicatory. "She gave them hope."
"If they knew what happened to the Healer their hope would turn to horror," Abella said. "As has mine."
A silence fell over the room. Anda glanced around at the small gathering, then focused on her prisoners.
"And you," she said addressing Archer, "your friend was saved by the Healer. Do you not see the value in her Works?"
"We believe in the value of life," Archer said, "but not at the cost of another life."
"You allowed her to heal him," Anda argued looking at Trip. "You allowed her to die."
"I didn't know she was goin' to die," Trip was shaking his head furiously, "just that she wanted to help."
"And if you knew she would die, you would have stopped her?" It was meant to be a rhetorical question. Anda looked as if she were going in for the kill.
Trip bowed his head and was quiet for a moment. Anda glanced around in triumph. Then Trip said quietly, "I woulda had to stop her. Malcolm would never have wanted to trade her life for his. He's not like that. We're not like that."
Trip looked up at the Lieutenant. He had been listening carefully. There was still confusion in his eyes, but a terrible understanding seemed to be dawning within them. Malcolm looked at Abella still holding the dress, silent tears streaming down her face and backed away from her, his head shaking slowly from side to side until he was against the wall and could go no further. Then he slid down to the floor.
"We're not like that either," Abella said. The other Tuin looked at her as she continued. "It has been ten years since the Healer disappeared. We have survived without her until now."
"But look at the wars," Anda said, "look at the hatred it has caused."
"That is no one's fault but our own," Abella said. "We cannot use suffering as the foundation of our society.
Anda looked from one to another in disbelief. Her gaze fell last on Malcolm where he sat trembling against the wall. She tore her eyes away and fixed a stare on Archer.
"Let us return to our ship," Archer bargained. "Our facilities are well equipped. Our doctor should be able to detect if there have been any changes in Lieutenant Reed." Archer hoped the sincerity of his request wasn't lost on her, but she cast her eyes downward. "You're welcome to join us," he added.
"But you do not share our beliefs," Anda replied shaking her head. "I'm afraid I cannot comply with your request," She glanced back up at Archer. "There is only one way to determine if he is the Healer."
Archer felt he was rapidly losing control of the situation -- if he ever had any measure of control here in this dimly lit room stocked with what were probably the planet's most fanatic people.
Trip was still leaning on him slightly as Archer briefly considered an escape attempt. There were six Tuin, not including the Keeper or Abella. Normally these would have been good odds, but not considering the condition of his people. Trip wasn't in any condition to fight and Archer wasn't sure he wanted to test Malcolm's hand-to-hand combat skills. The Lieutenant seemed to have regained some of his composure, but his eyes were unfocused and he seemed tired. Maybe there was still a diplomatic way out of this situation. There didn't seem to be any other option.
"We only tried to help you," Anda continued feverishly. "But how do you repay us? You have destroyed us. Stabbed us in the back and pierced us through our very hearts. You have destroyed all that means anything to us."
Then Anda's hand lashed out. Trip's eyes widened in shock as his mouth worked, but nothing came out. The Keeper removed her hand and Archer noticed it came back red. He grabbed her roughly by the wrist, but had to let go as the Commander slumped against him. Archer looked down, horrified, and saw the handle of a small knife jutting from Trip's stomach, bright redness spreading away from it.
V
Malcolm's eyes were shut tightly where he sat against the wall until a shocked gasp snapped them open. They came slowly into focus to a vision of Trip sliding to the floor, a bloody trail left on Archer's hands and arms. The Commander was looking up, eyes staring into nothing, hand outstretched and quivering in the air. Then he collapsed completely to the ground and lay still.
Malcolm's mind immediately registered that something horrible had happened, but he just sat there. Shouldn't he do something? A hand reached down pulling him to his feet, then tossed him to the ground in front of Trip. He was grateful for it. This was where he was supposed to be. He stared in horror at the blood spreading across Trip's stomach and fought the urge to vomit. The hand grabbed his wrist firmly and moved it toward Trip, then suddenly released him.
"He cannot be forced," Anda said, a stern look on her face as she pulled the other Tuin away. "He must do it of his own accord." The guard backed away.
Malcolm glanced at Anda, then reached a shaky hand toward the Trip. Was there really a question now of what he would do? What he must do? His hand almost touched Trip's chest but Archer took hold of his wrist. Malcolm's head spun toward him.
"It could kill you," Archer said simply.
Malcolm looked at him for an instant that seemed to draw into eternity. He saw the warring emotions in the sharp green eyes. He knew how much saving his friend would mean to the captain, it would mean as much to him, perhaps more. He turned his head back toward Trip.
"It should not kill him," Anda said softly, in deference to the conflict displayed before her.
"The girl died," Archer said, anger rising in his voice.
"She pulled your Lieutenant Reed from the very depths," Anda said. "Commander Tucker is not dead… yet."
The color fled from Malcolm's face as he glanced at the Captain.
Archer nodded and released his hand, then Malcolm turned quickly back to his task. Trip was unconscious now, breathing shallow. Malcolm moved his hand a little more slowly then he intended, but finally touched Trip's chest. The blood had spread there now. Trip's blood. Too much of it. He couldn't stand to look at it.
Malcolm closed his eyes as everyone gazed on, wide-eyed, to where he knelt. A long moment heavy with hope came and went, but as the moment stretched thinner and thinner, it seemed there would be no more miracles today. There must be none left. He pleaded silently, but in vain. Trip's eyes remained closed and his breathing slowed even further. Was he even breathing anymore? Finally, Malcolm's hand fell away in defeat, his body motionless except for the shaking of his shoulders in silent grief.
TBC…