Chapter Two
Infection
Jonathan Archer stepped into his Ready Room, carefully controlling his feelings. He had left the Bridge after a few frustrating minutes as the efforts of his officers met with failure after failure, and he did not want to have his mounting rage boil over onto them.
This ship's crew was still reeling from the Capellan incident just a week before, Ensign Samuels would need months to recover from what had happened to her; and now on top of that comes this latest assault – except now it was a general assault upon his crew.
He sat down at his desk, switching on his monitor, hoping to be greeted with the usual 'desktop' image of the Starfleet emblem.
The image that assailed his eyes, however, was that of Ensign Elizabeth Cutler. She was in quarters that were not her own, kneeling on a bed before someone standing beside it, someone whose face was obscured. She was completely naked and absorbed in her activity, which was utterly private.
A moment later the scene shifted, and this time shock was added to shock as he recognized the ship's Chaplain, Mother Patricia McCabe. She was not dressed in her Clerical 'uniform', or anything else. Ten seconds later, as Archer stared in disbelief, the scene changed. McCabe was still there, but she was not alone. Lt. Malcolm Reed was also present, and it was clear that their relationship was well on its way toward the resolution they had apparently hoped for, though not in any way that Archer wanted to see.
He snapped the screen off, but not without the painful knowledge that these, and scores of other scenes, were going out at ten second intervals to every station on the ship.
He had issued a ship-wide order, backed up by Security, for the monitors to be turned off. But despite his faith in his crew, he did not hold high hopes that this particular order would be universally obeyed.
xx
Reverend Mother Patricia McCabe OSJ was forty, a most striking woman with piercing brown eyes and long, flowing chestnut hair. She had always enjoyed an active life since long before entering the Seminary, and even after her Ordination as a Priest of the Order of St. John, she had not changed. She did appear younger than her years, and it would be many years before she would see the first touches of gray, or the first lines in her face. That is, if her dealings with a particular member of the crew did not cause a premature infliction of either of those conditions.
She had only recently been assigned to serve this Starship's crew, and on arrival had made the stunning discovery that her old love – her fiancé – Malcolm Reed was also aboard. Now she tried to carefully balance her official duties with her personal life, something that was suddenly a far less easy thing than she had ever conceived. But after nearly a month, she was starting to get things into a balance. Not a comfortable one; there was no such thing as a 'comfortable balance' in any situation where Malcolm Reed was involved, but at least it was a balance.
At least there was none of the tension of her early days aboard. They seemed to have entered into an understanding that could allow both of them to grow closer than they were, if not as close as they had been, and still maintain a professional life outside closed doors.
Now on this Saturday, close to noon, she was sitting in her office, thinking. She had another appointment with Dina Samuels later today; but she was gratified to see that the woman appeared to be steadily recovering from her ordeal with the Capellans. The sermon she was going to deliver in the morning was on the hand held device in her lap, and for the twentieth time she considered the words she would try to say to her new 'flock'. She was aboard less than a month, and had barely started to settle in. Despite her best efforts, hardly more than half of the crewmen and women were beyond just acquaintances to her. It took time to get to know over eighty people, certainly well enough to know what to say to them.
She picked up the padd, but just as she was about to key an entry into it the door behind her chimed.
Standing up, she put the padd on her desk and stepped to the door, taking a moment to smooth her royal blue shirt and settle the cross upon her chest before touching the door control.
When it slid aside, she was surprised to see Ensigns Sato and Cutler standing beyond it. Cutler was holding Sato's arm, attempting to steady her, and the Japanese linguist looked like she had stared into Hell itself. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry to bother you, Mother McCabe, but…" Elizabeth began, but Patricia held up her hand.
"It's no bother. Come in."
Whatever had brought the two women to her door, Sato was shaking and looked like she was about to faint. This was no time to be haggling in the doorway. Cutler helped Hoshi in, and they got the woman seated in one of the two chairs.
"Now, what's happened?"
Sato looked up at her, and the trembling woman looked like she was about to cry.
"We didn't know where else to come." Cutler told her, which was not an answer. McCabe fixed her with a hard look, knowing she was not going to get clear answers from the shaken Linguist. "Have you looked at your monitor lately?" The scientist asked.
Odd enough question. "No, I've been busy." McCabe answered, indicating the padd on her desk. "Why?"
Cutler reached for the control on the desktop screen. "This is why." She turned it on.
x
Patricia felt her mouth fall open, but was so stunned she could not close it as she saw a three dimensional image of Mary Sherman from Engineering. The woman lay on her back, her fiery red hair a flaming riot upon her pillow. She was naked, her feet pressed into the padding of her cot pushing her hips upward, her thighs spread wide and her hand between them. On her face was a look of utter ecstasy.
"Oh my God!" Patricia breathed, unable to believe her eyes. Seconds later the image changed to another woman she knew well, Jennifer Farber from Geology. The black woman was in her quarters, or at least Patricia presumed they were hers. She had just removed her bra, which was frozen in mid flight to her bed. It had been the last stitch of clothing the woman had been wearing.
Almost off the screen, deep in the foreground, was part of an ebon body, quite definitely male. McCabe did not even need the guess the man's identity.
As Patricia stared in shock, hardly willing to believe what she was seeing on her own monitor, the image changed and Jennifer Farber was not alone. Travis Mayweather was with her, and they were engaged in a frantic encounter Patricia did not want to see!
Ten seconds later this shocking image was replaced by that of the blonde Security Officer Andrea Carstairs. She was also naked, in glorious and shockingly vivid three dimensions, but she was reaching upward for one of the low ceiling supports in her quarters, clinging tightly to it. Her legs were spread wide and the front of her body was crisscrossed with red welts.
In the instant frozen in time, a leather strap had just struck hard across her stomach. It was just past her skin, and the ripples of the hard impact flashed across her body. On her face was an expression of wondrous rapture.
Liz turned the monitor off. "That has been going out all over the ship for nearly twenty minutes. Someone must have planted cameras or sensors in the quarters of every woman aboard. By now, every man on this ship has seen everything there is to see."
"But can't they do something about it?" Patricia asked, trying to keep the horror that gripped her heart from stealing her voice. If something was in her quarters, photographing her…
Liz touched the activation control on the monitor. Frozen in time, in perfect detail, Vicky Pasmore lay upon her cot under an equally nude man whose face they could not see. Hers head was thrown back and on her face was an expression of boundless ecstasy. An instant later the image was gone, replaced by Mary Tigat in much the same position, except that the body that partially covered hers was turned in the opposite direction, and that body was that of a blonde woman. Her face was hidden between Tigat's widely spread thighs even as the raven haired woman's fingers delved deeply into the blonde's most private recesses.
Cutler turned off the monitor again. "I guess they can't."
Patricia McCabe, shaken to the core of her being, crossed herself, offering a fervent prayer for the well-being of a ship's crew that was about to come apart in a truly personal Hell.
xxx
. On the bridge, Malcolm Reed looked across the round Command Center at T'Pol. The Vulcan woman's expression was very carefully guarded. "That's it, then." He said grimly.
The Science Officer stood up. "We should inform the Captain."
Reed extended his hand toward the Ready Room door. "After you."
xx
When Captain Archer admitted his First Officer and Tactical Officer, the first words out of his mouth were: "Tell me you solved this."
"In a sense, sir." Malcolm began uncomfortably. "We've identified the problem."
"The images are being carried on an invasive virus which has infiltrated our Communications system and many related facilities." T'Pol reported, saving Malcolm from having to admit their failure. "The virus makes copies of itself, each one bearing the files embedded in its code, together with a random mutation which embeds itself into a legitimate file. Essentially, it makes a different virus each time. These mutations hide within our own software, disguised as indigenous files. We have detected and eradicated five different versions, but I estimate there may be hundreds, each one carrying the program independently, and each one unique."
"We kill one, and another takes its place." Malcolm finished. "The last one was embedded in the replicator in the Mess Hall, disguised as a molecular synthesis for chocolate pudding."
"What about the images themselves?"
"We're tracing the source files, but it will take some time. The virus affects the code when it replicates, making it very hard to trace the original."
Whatever Archer would have said in response was cut off by the intercom. "Sick Bay to Captain Archer!" The woman's voice was rushed.
"Archer."
"Ensign Samuels, sir. Dr. Phlox is en route to crew quarters, D/89. The only report we have is that a crewman has been stabbed."