Trip shrugged himself into his uniform, evaluating his appearance in the mirror over the dressing table in the small, bare lodging. He could hear the sounds of water from the nearby bathroom, Malcolm getting ready for the day as Trip dressed.
They'd only shared the room for one night, but he was already feeling a bit awkward about the housing arrangements. Apparently, it was high season in this city and lodging was tight, so he and Malcolm had been forced to share the space. And it had been a long time since Trip had had a roommate. He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. It could be worse, of course: at least there were two beds. And the close quarters might give them a chance to talk, although last night, all they'd done was sit on the building's front stoop drinking a warm Caputian liquor, playing cards, and watching people pass on the crowded street.
He paused, staring at himself in the mirror as he thought back to the time just before he'd found his friend's drug paraphernalia, before he knew about Malcolm's problem. How long prior to that had Malcolm been acting differently? How long had Malcolm been breaking apart, and why hadn't he realised that something was wrong with his friend?
Trip turned from the mirror, staring at the closed bathroom door. He'd been too frenzied there after Lizzie's death, purposefully staying busy so that he wouldn't scream, so that he wouldn't come apart himself. They'd only recently begun rebuilding their friendship, and now he was afraid that the truths of Malcolm's addiction would tear them apart.
Trip heard the water stop and sat down on his bed, putting things into his bag, trying to focus on the day at hand. Although Malcolm, the captain and several others from the crew had been meeting with the planetary leaders for several days prior, it was his first day there, and he had an early-morning meeting scheduled at the tech centre mid-town. Malcolm had been invited downtown, about a mile or so further south, to view their defence technology. Of course, Malcolm had refused, saying instead that he'd stay with Trip, but Trip could tell that his friend was practically salivating at the chance to view their armaments and security systems.
As Malcolm stepped from the bathroom, Trip said, "You really don't have to go with me."
"Commander..."
Trip interrupted. "It's a fairly peaceful nation, and I'll have local officials with me at all times."
"True," Malcolm said, rummaging through a drawer. "Although some other countries have been having problems, and crime is not unheard of, even here."
Trip nodded. "Yeah. It kind of reminds me of Earth, in the twentieth and twenty first centuries." He smiled as Malcolm turned to him. "Come on, you know you want to see their defence tech. It was all you talked about last night." As Malcolm tried not to smile, Trip nodded, knowing he'd won. "I'll call for the car."
He turned to the phone and dialled quickly. Last night, talking about Caputian technology, had been the first time he'd seen Malcolm so enthusiastic since, well, since before Denox, and he could understand why his friend had given in so easily this morning. After all, if Trip were even half as interested in security technologies as Malcolm was, he'd be chomping at the bit trying to get to those buildings downtown.
Trip stared up at the skyscraper that housed the technology centre, the tall silver building framed against the bright blue sky, and sighed. In a way, it was a terrible day to be working indoors - the weather was beautiful, clear and crisp, the air with just a hint of autumn about it.
He entered the lobby and took the lift upstairs to the 15th floor, exiting into a bright office, windows all around, and was lost in a swirl of introductions and meetings.
During one discussion with the local officials and technology leaders, Trip leaned forward on the table, listening attentively, but his gaze kept being drawn through those windows. This building, situated on a bit of a hill, had a million dollar view of the city; he could even see the cluster of buildings where Malcolm was working, a mile or so away, soaring high over the rest of downtown.
During a break, he stood next to the monitor on the wall, beverage in hand, and simply took the opportunity to stare out at the city around him. One of the tech managers, Shrita, stepped beside him, raising her own mug in a toast to the scene.
"Usually the view isn't this great. We don't often have days this clear," she said, her dark eyes vibrant against her deep green skin.
Trip nodded, then watched as a trail of smoke began to drift across the sky. "What is that?" he asked, pointing in its direction.
She shrugged. Brow ridges rising, she replied, "I'm not sure."
"Looks like a fire," he said, watching as the smoke built to a pillar, wavering in the changing wind. The others in the room kept glancing downtown, towards the smoke, as they talked.
He heard the door open and turned, seeing one of the managers returning. She stepped next to Shrita.
"There was an explosion downtown," she said. Trip felt his stomach clench. Malcolm.
"No," Shrita replied, looking upset.
Trip pulled out his communicator and tried to raise Malcolm, then Enterprise, getting nothing but static. He could hear sirens from the streets below despite the height of their floor and, looking down, he saw emergency vehicles racing in every direction, lights flashing. He tried his communicator again.
Shrita noticed his attempts to use the device and leaned towards him. "Are you trying to reach your ship?" At his nod, she continued. "There are antennae on the top of a lot of the buildings downtown that control our communications systems. If there's a problem there, it may be interfering with our net enough to affect your equipment."
Another person reached past Trip and triggered the monitor. "We may be able to see what's happening on the news channels."
Trip's eyes fixed on the monitor, which was showing a news feed; a close-up view of a building, smoke pouring from near the top. He could see the occasional lick of flame, and sometimes, when the wind would shift, the part of the building that had been damaged.
He triggered his communicator again, and this time heard a reassuring "chirp". Stepping back from the monitor and through the small crowd in the room, he said, "Malcolm?"
"Commander?" came Malcolm's voice, and Trip actually felt his shoulders lower as he relaxed.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, although there's a fire in the..." The signal faded, then cleared. "They've told us to stay here."
Trip nodded. "Yeah, I can see what's happening on the news feed." He returned his eyes to the monitor, watching as smoke continued to roil. "They're saying that there was an explosion, maybe some kind of accident. Was that your building?"
"No, we're all right. It was the building next door. Rattled our windows, though."
Trip could hear a muffled voice speaking in the background through the communicator, and asked, "What's that?"
"Hold on a moment," Malcolm replied.
"All right, but..." Trip let his voice trail away as he stared at the scene playing out before him on the monitor. He watched, not quite registering the sight, as a large projectile of some sort swerved across his view. In disbelief, he saw it slice right through the top of a second, uninjured, building.
He heard a sob from beside him, and said the first thing that came to him, "What the hell was that?"
That was not an accident, he thought.
He watched as debris began spilling from the building: paper, glass, concrete, something dark. He heard a gasp from the crowd in the room, and realised...that had been a person. He'd just seen a person falling...
Frozen in shock, he whispered into the communicator, "Malcolm?" There was no response.
Turning back to the window, Trip just stood there and watched as paper rained down upon the city. He felt himself start to shake, and turned back to the monitor, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. He watched for a long time, barely registering the images flowing across the screen.
He heard a collective scream, everyone in the building around him, below him, above him, shouting simultaneously as another projectile flew past, and then the first building fell.