Day Three

After ration packs for breakfast, Malcolm decided that he hadn't fully appreciated Chef's talents before. T'Pol intended to inform Captain Archer that more vegetarian meals should be included in the ration packs once they returned.

On the morning agenda was exploring the wooded area on the island. It was not very large, but had different plants and, above all, it was something to do.

The shade was refreshing to Malcolm, although he thought T'Pol preferred the open sun. She was interested in the ecosystem, however, and found plenty of things to scan. One of the empty toolkits had been designated to hold samples, which she intended to study later. Malcolm brought one of the bowls and the other toolkit.

"Intriguing," she said from a hunched position. "The flowers on this contain an enzyme that is a known sedative."

"Phlox would love that." A flower would be an improvement over many of the doctor's effective but unpleasant remedies.

"The quantity is too small to be medically useful."

Meanwhile, Malcolm had found a root protruding that had teeth marks from some sort of rodent. He pulled it up. "Do you think we could eat this?"

"There are no toxins in the stem, which is fortunate since you have it firmly grasped in your hands, and not all toxins require ingestion. The root is edible, although we should find another specimen."

"One of our own?"

"Yes."

He found several whole roots easily and was observing the birds while T'Pol found a new variety of berries. They had a compound that T'Pol couldn't identify, which ruled out eating them.

He bent over to pull up another root when he saw a spring that gurgled out into a small stream. "T'Pol."

"Yes?"

"There's a spring here." He proceeded to fill the metal bowl with water and wash the roots in it.

T'Pol startled a small rodent while walking over, and the disoriented creature ran into Malcolm's leg before turning and careening off in another direction.

"We've found another animal," he remarked.

"There appear to be fewer animals on this island than I had anticipated."

"Maybe they're nocturnal."

"I believe that there are nocturnal species, as I heard a bird calling to its mate last night."

"Owls," supplied Malcolm, who had always admired the stealthy birds.

She scanned the plants that were growing around the base of a tree next to the spring. "The flowers of this plant are high in vitamins," she declared. "However, we must take care to leave enough flowers to adequately reproduce."

"I think I'll leave that balancing act to you."

While T'Pol harvested some of the flowers, Malcolm filled his bowl up with water again and attempted to wash his face and arms. After consideration, he stuck his head in and tried to wash his hair too. There wasn't much risk of drowning in a metal bowl, and he really wanted a shower. Since that wasn't possible, he made do. Sloshing water up his arms, he decided that if he had to do it again, he might want to let the water sit in the sun for a bit first.

"Lieutenant?"

"Would you like a turn?"

She cocked her head to the side, ever so slightly. "I was going to ask if you are proficient in tree-climbing, but I believe I will engage in a similar attempt at hygiene."

He dumped out the water and stuck the bowl in the spring again. "It's rather cold. Why do you ask if I can climb trees?"

"I have been told that this is a common activity for human children."

"I've climbed trees before, but it's been a while."

Looking up, T'Pol asked, "Could you reach the fruit?"

Malcolm followed her gaze. There were green ovals hanging down that, at first glance, blended in with the leaves. He looked at the lower branches. "No. There aren't any branches until halfway up the tree. I think I'd need to be a meter taller."

He took the tricorder and scanner a nearby berry bush of another variety. The berries were strange: two round, yellow berries were connected by a centimeter or so of stem, and then from the connecting stem grew the stem that connected the berries to the rest of the bush. Malcolm hadn't seen anything like it. First he scanned for human physiology, and the berries came up clean. All scans said go for Vulcan physiology, too. He picked some pairs while giving T'Pol time to wash as best as she could.

The toolkit was almost full when T'Pol came up beside him. "The structure of these berries is intriguing," she commented.

"I think we've got plenty of food."

"True."

Filling up the bowl with water, they headed back to their camp back at the shuttle. It was too early to eat, so they put the food in the shuttle and took out their respective projects. T'Pol carefully arranged her plant samples and adjusted the microscope as Malcolm started in on the tip of his shell arrowhead.

T'Pol finished the samples she'd collected as Malcolm chipped notches out of the shell's side. She started to pack the microscope and he suggested lunch.

They ate the roots without cooking them, and much to Malcolm's surprise they had the texture of water chestnuts. No matter how much he chewed, though, the peel would not soften. T'Pol didn't have any more success than he did. Inedible peel aside, though, the roots were good. The vitamin-rich flowers tasted like nothing, but he'd eaten much worse.

Because the roots were quite filling, they saved the berries. With the berries and ration packs, they had plenty for dinner and an afternoon looming ahead with nothing to do.

"It's rather ironic," Malcolm noted, "that we're the ones stuck here. Out of everyone on Enterprise, I think we're the two who see the least fun down here."

"You are probably correct. Most of the crew would consider this to be a vacation."

"Not much of a vacation," he sighed.

"If I may inquire, what do you prefer to do on a vacation?"

"I like sightseeing," he replied. "When we have shore leave, I try to visit museums and natural parks. Then there are books; I always enjoy a good book. What about you?"

T'Pol considered the question. "Vulcans have traditionally viewed vacations as unnecessary, but I have come to appreciate the change in routine. However, I find that the most enjoyable aspect is spending time with Trip."

"I can understand that."

"In our current situation, I believe that a session of deep mediation would be most relaxing. I do not often have the time on Enterprise."

"Time," sighed Malcolm, "is one thing we have in abundance."

"Do not be surprised if I am unresponsive for several hours."

"What if there's danger?"

"Although we are at little risk, you may touch my shoulder to bring me out of my meditative state if the need arises."

He nodded. "Right."

"Do you have any plans for the afternoon?"

Holding up a padd, he replied, "I'm going to write to my sister. She's always after me to write longer letters."

"That will no doubt be appreciated."

"I'm sure. Is there anything I should be aware of concerning this meditation?" Malcolm never stopped thinking about security and risks. Well, there was that Orion incident where he hadn't been thinking too clearly, but it wasn't entirely his fault. He could hardly be blamed for his biology.

T'Pol stood up and moved towards the hatch. "Nothing that I have not already informed you of."

"I'll see you this evening, then."

"Enjoy the afternoon." With that, she went into the shuttlepod and Malcolm made himself comfortable in the shadow. It was actually quite nice – a warm breeze was blowing, the sun was shining but the shadow protected him from getting too hot, and the grass provided a cushion.

Malcolm had never been much for writing long letters. Except when he and Trip thought that they were going to die and there was nothing else to do, but that was the black sheep among his letter-writing moments. In general they were brief and conveyed little of significance. It was another tradition that Reed men were expected to follow, and he'd held to it even when he'd thoroughly rejected his father's expectations.

Maddie, I have plenty of time to tell you about Enterprise and my life out here, as I am currently marooned on an island. We're safe and there's plenty of food and water, but there's no hope of fixing the shuttle. That leaves me absolutely nothing to do. Remember when we were younger and I used to chip arrowheads out of shells? I've already finished one.

After that the words came slowly, but he had all afternoon. Maddie might want him to get marooned more often if it prompted her brother to write long letters.

T'Pol was still in the shuttlepod, presumably meditating, when Malcolm started to get hungry. He ate a root left over from lunch and then started in on the berries. Not long after he ate the first berries, he started to itch. At first he thought it was the grass, but then he popped another berry in his mouth and an idea occurred to him.

"Bloody hell!" He trod angrily into the shuttlepod and reached for T'Pol's tricorder. In a few seconds he changed the profile to a medical scan. It wasn't as in-depth as Phlox could've performed with a medical scanner, but it was enough to confirm his suspicion.

He was glaring at the tricorder as if he could intimidate it into saying something else when T'Pol came out of her meditative trace. "You look ill," she said immediately.

Malcolm's eyes were getting watery, which made it hard to see the readings on the tricorder. "It's those berries."

"You indicated that they are not toxic to the human body."

"They aren't to most human bodies. Mine, however, is in the minority. I've developed an allergic reaction."

She checked the tricorder and selected a hypospray. "This should help, but it would be wise to avoid the berries in the future."

"They're all yours," he said.

"You should not suffer any long-term effects."

Malcolm walked toward the aft compartment to lie down. He wasn't feeling particularly well, and the hypospray had probably contained at least some variety of mild sedative. "It could be worse." After a moment he realized that Enterprise was scheduled to rendezvous with them about an hour ago. "Trip's probably worried sick about you by now."

"On the contrary, he is aware that I am in no imminent danger."

He stopped and considered that. "Does this have anything to do with your Vulcan marriage?"

"Yes," answered T'Pol, "and I would prefer that you not share this information." The look on her face didn't invite any further questions.

Privacy was something that Malcolm understood, and it was a sign of friendship and respect that T'Pol told him as much as she did. He considered it an honor.

"Your secret's safe with me. I just have one question: does this mean that Trip will know where to find us?"

"No. That is too specific."

"Pity." That was obviously the end of the conversation. Malcolm yawned. "I think I'll go to bed early." His eyes were watering and his skin itched like mad. Sleep would be welcome.

"Sleep well," said T'Pol as he settled into the aft compartment. He would have liked to consider what T'Pol had revealed about her relationship with Trip, but the sedative was stronger than his curiosity, and before Malcolm could think about anything, he was asleep.