CHAPTER 9

The items Hoshi and Malcolm had brought back from the armory were incorporated into a measuring device, a simple mechanical apparatus that didn't rely on circuitry.

The device was set up in the captain's ready room. Four crewmembers including Travis had some experience with triangulation using old-fashioned methods of charting. Hoshi wasn't surprised that Malcolm also understood how to interpret the readings. Something to do with his upbringing in a British navy household, she supposed.

Three days of measurements later, the only concrete data they had for their effort was that the light was getting larger. T'Pol concluded this must mean it was traveling toward them in a straight line.

Still, the light wasn't getting larger very quickly, so the sense of anticipation was stretched out almost to the point of being unbearable. It was going to be some time before they knew what it was.

In the meantime, Hoshi was walking on eggshells. She concentrated on her duties but kept an eye on Malcolm and, when he was around, Trip.

She had always trusted Malcolm. Even after the events of the past week, she trusted him. That he had said he would kill Trip worried her because she knew that was a manifestation of the madness. But she also knew he wouldn't kill Trip yet. Malcolm's devotion to his duties was too strong to be swayed, and he knew Enterprise needed Trip.

Trip was another matter. After what he'd tried to pull using the captain as his tool, she wouldn't put it past him to cook up another scheme to kill Malcolm.

What was most unsettling, however, was that Trip was acting as if nothing had happened. He would appear to be his usual genial self, laughing and joking when circumstances warranted such behavior. She and Malcolm had to go along with it to maintain the status quo. So far, there hadn't been any problems when they'd had to work with him.

There were times, though, when Hoshi caught Trip watching Malcolm with a calculating look on his face. When Trip would realize she was watching him, he'd give her a sardonic smile or a smirk. It was as if he was flaunting what he'd tried to do, and was daring her to do something about it.

She hadn't talked to anyone about what had happened below-decks. Malcolm had refused to discuss it other than when they'd talked about in their quarters right after it had happened, and she was afraid that T'Pol wouldn't believe her. So she held her peace, and waited and watched.

Ever since they'd been stuck here, Malcolm had been overly protective of her. Now the tables were turned as Hoshi became increasingly aware of his vulnerability. He was her protector but, whether he knew it or not, she'd become his.

Hoshi was afraid that Trip was planning something but she doubted he'd try anything below-decks again. She had insisted they be accompanied by two other people on any missions from now on. Citing how easily the captain had overpowered them, she had convinced Malcolm of the need for additional personnel when they went scavenging.

That left the secure portions of the ship for an attack, and as she tried to anticipate what Trip might do, she was surprised at how many devious ways came to mind for doing a person in. Accidents would be easy to stage, especially aboard a starship that was slowly falling apart. There were ways to kill someone that could be made to look like an accident and no one would be the wiser.

She was brooding about the possibilities as she and Malcolm ate breakfast one morning. Taking a bite of her toast -- no butter, as Chef had long ago started rationing it -- she looked up to see Trip come out of the galley with a cup and a coffeepot. Approaching their table, he set down the items and took a seat, saying, "How ya two doin'?"

Hoshi couldn't believe his audacity. Here he was, cozying up to them, acting as if he'd never tried to kill Malcolm.

She heard Malcolm grunt an acknowledgement as he continued to eat. She forced herself to say, "Fine."

There was an awkward silence. Trip stirred some sugar in his coffee, looking from her to Malcolm and back again. Finally he said, "T'Pol thinks by tomorrow we should be able to have an idea of how big that thing out there is."

Hoshi stared at him in surprise. This was the first she'd heard of it. As Trip went on to speculate about what the object was, he lifted the pot and poured some more coffee into his cup, then casually topped off Malcolm's cup.

Hoshi's cup was empty, and she slid it toward Trip as an indication she wanted more coffee, too. Glancing at his face, she found him staring at her with a peculiar expression. Before she could speak, he stood up, coffeepot in hand, and said he had to get back to engineering.

That was strange, she thought as Trip walked away. He had seen her cup was empty but hadn't poured any coffee into it. In fact, he'd taken the coffeepot away with him. Why...?

She tossed her arms out as if stretching just as Malcolm raised his cup to his lips, and her hand knocked the cup from his hand, spilling its contents.

"Hoshi!" Malcolm cried, jumping as the hot liquid splashed onto his fingers.

"Oh, Malcolm! I'm so sorry!" she said. "It's my fault. Let me help you clean that up."

She swiped her napkin at the splatters on the table. Lifting the napkin to her nose, she sniffed.

"What are you doing?" Malcolm asked in bemusement as he dried his fingers with his napkin. "The coffee's not that good."

She gave him a wan smile and rubbed the tip of her nose with the cloth. "I know it's not. My nose itches, silly."

No sense in alarming him, she thought as he grinned at her and shook his head. She didn't smell anything in the coffee she had wiped up, but a poison might not have a detectable odor.

Poison would be an easy way to kill someone. A fatal substance could be administered in food or drink. Since they all ate from communal pots and pans in the galley, however, she hadn't considered that Trip would try it.

But she'd noticed that Trip hadn't taken a single sip from his own cup after he'd filled it, and he'd avoided putting any coffee in her cup, not to mention that strange look he had given her when it was obvious she wanted a refill.

Best not to say anything, she figured. She didn't want to give Malcolm a reason to become more paranoid. Another murder attempt might be enough to set him off, despite his intention to leave Trip alone for the time being.

Or, if she told him that she thought Trip had poisoned the coffee, Malcolm might think she was losing her own marbles. That was the last thing she needed right now. If he believed she was going off her rocker, he wouldn't trust her. There might come a time when his trust in her would be the only thing that could save him.

Hoshi didn't have any appetite for the rest of her breakfast. Sliding her chair back from the table, she looked over to see Malcolm watching her curiously.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You're acting rather funny."

"I'm fine," she said, putting on a bright smile. "Are you coming with me to the bridge?"

He nodded and picked up his plate and cup. Together they walked to the galley to take their dishes to the washer before heading out of the mess hall.

When they arrived on the bridge, Hoshi could see Travis and Crewman Foster through the open door of the ready room. She raised a hand in greeting as she went to the communications console. Malcolm gave her a pat on the shoulder as she sat down before he took a brief turn around the bridge and then stepped into the ready room.

The distress signal was working properly. Not that Hoshi expected anything else. It had worked perfectly the seven hundred-plus times she had already checked it. She wondered how much longer it would have to send out its plaintive call.

Maybe if the mysterious approaching light was a spacecraft crewed by friendly aliens, they wouldn't have to call for help for much longer. Until they found out for sure what that light was, she'd decided to hold onto the hope that it was someone who could help them.

She began sending out the daily hails. In the background, she could hear the men talking in the ready room. Travis had seemed in a better mood since he'd started therapy on his leg, and she could hear the cheerfulness in the tone of his voice. She was glad her friend was in a better frame of mind. It had hurt to see him so depressed.

As she switched through the frequencies, Hoshi eavesdropped on the conversation in the ready room. They talked about the measurements they were taking, excited that the light was getting closer but noting that, other than taking the readings every half hour, the rest of the time they spent in the ready room was boring.

Hoshi had to smile at that. It was the same way she felt sending out the hails every day. The boredom could be awful, even more so when nothing changed, she thought as she dropped her gaze to the monitors on her console.

What she saw made her jaw drop. There was no feedback registering at all, and the hails were getting out on every frequency.

"Malcolm!" she yelled excitedly as she hunted frantically for her long-discarded earpiece. "Malcolm! Come quick!"

She located the earpiece in a drawer on the console just as Malcolm, alerted by the urgency in her voice, came rushing out of the ready room. Travis and Foster followed to see what the excitement was about.

"What is it, Hoshi?" Malcolm asked.

"The signal is getting through!" she said, putting the earpiece in and keying in long-unused commands on the console.

"That hasn't ever happened except that one time," Travis commented with a grin on his face. "Maybe somebody will hear it!"

An answering smile on her face, Hoshi said, "Let's hope!"

"I bet it has something to do with that light," Travis said.

Frowning, Malcolm said, "I'm sure it does."

"What's the matter, Lieutenant?" Travis inquired. "Somebody's finally going to hear us. We'll be able to get out of here!"

"Let's just hope they're coming to help us," Malcolm said grimly, "and not to finish us off. You better get back in there and keep watching it, Travis, just in case it picks up speed and gets here sooner than we anticipated."

Travis' enthusiasm died. Motioning for Foster to follow, he returned to the ready room.

"You didn't have to be so harsh," Hoshi said softly to Malcolm as she adjusted the earpiece. "It's the first good sign we've had in a long time."

"They could be coming to help us," he conceded, "but I wouldn't count on it. Not the way our luck has been the last two years."

Sighing, Hoshi nodded. He was right, of course. They should be cautious. Still, she couldn't keep from hoping that help was on the way.

"Contact T'Pol," Malcolm ordered. "She needs to be up here in case we get a return message."