Walk in the Dark
By Drogna
Chapter 11
It was going to take them a week to get to the station. Everyone took shifts on the bridge and in engineering. It was hard work because Enterprise had never been designed to be flown by such a small crew but Hess tied as many systems as she could into the bridge which made life slightly easier. The current rotation meant that at least one person was always on duty on the bridge and another person was keeping an eye on engineering. All non-essential systems had been shut down to lessen the work that needed to be done.
Archer found that the ship had taken on a eerie quality. The corridors were lonely in their emptiness and his quarters had never felt so remote from the rest of the ship. He made time everyday to visit Trip, because he seemed to be the only person that Trip consistently recognised. Sometimes his memory would dredge up the names of the others, but it varied from day to day, even hour to hour. However, even without his memory, he was still Trip and he naturally fell into old friendships.
Archer entered sickbay to find Reed sitting beside Trip's bed chatting to him.
"I can't understand how you can wear those hideous shirts," Reed was saying.
"Hey, I think they're stylish," replied Trip, softly. His voice sounded dry and weak.
"Yes, if you're colour blind," said Reed.
Trip laughed, but it wasn't his usual strong laugh, it was a pained approximation. Reed smiled in acknowledgement.
"Wish I could remember it," said Trip. "Sounds like we had a great time."
"I didn't tell you what happened after the bar fight. It's probably better that you've forgotten about that."
"You know, I do kind of remember something, a basement and being tied up," said Trip.
"That would be an entirely different incident from our sordid past," said Reed. "Let's just say we decided not to go to Risa again."
Trip's eyes held an obvious question.
"Don't ask," said Reed.
"Hi Malcolm, Trip," said Archer, approaching the biobed. Trip was swathed in several sheets and blankets because he became cold easily, even in the temperature controlled environment of sickbay.
"Hey Captain," said Trip, which meant that Archer knew this was a good day, because he wasn't calling him Commander.
"That is my cue to take my shift on the bridge," said Reed, getting up to leave. "I'll see you later, Trip, Captain."
"Sure Malcolm," said Trip and gave him a broad smile.
Archer gave Reed a nod of thanks for talking to Trip, as the Armoury officer left. Archer knew just how difficult talking to Trip could be, because he spent a lot of his time doing it. On the bad days Trip's memory wouldn't retain anything and Archer would have to continually repeat himself. Some things came back to Trip, but others seemed permanently locked away. He couldn't remember Hoshi at all, much to her dismay and Trip's embarrassment, but Phlox he could identify about fifty percent of the time. The second year of Enterprise's mission seemed to be a complete blank, but he often hallucinated Xindi. Of all the things to remember, Archer had hoped that he wouldn't remember the Xindi attack.
The Xindi hallucinations were harrowing for anyone who witnessed the fear they induced in Trip. Often the kindest thing to do was sedate him while they passed, but Phlox worried about using too many sedatives. Trip was already probably addicted to pain medication, since the disease was expected to be fatal, the doctors had decided that pain relief was more important than getting their patient hooked on an addictive pain killer.
"Well, we should reach the station in about three days," said Archer, wondering if Trip would know what he was talking about.
"Station?" asked Trip.
"We're taking you to a medical station for treatment, so that we can cure you," said Archer.
Trip nodded in understanding, but Archer wondered if he really knew what was going on.
Phlox appeared. "Time for lunch, Commander." He was carrying a nasogastric feeding tube and a bag of specially formulated nutritional fluid.
"You know I hate that stuff, Doc," said Trip.
"I know it isn't pleasant, but at the moment your swallowing reflex is too weak to let you eat on your own. Hopefully it's just for a few more days."
"I'll stay with you, Trip, while it's in," said Archer. "I've brought the latest water polo match and if Phlox will let us borrow one of his portable monitors we can watch it together."
"I'll get the monitor," said Phlox, putting down the dreaded feeding apparatus for a moment while he got the monitor and table that fitted over the biobed.
"Do I like water polo?" asked Trip.
"Unless you've just been trying to humour me all this time, I think you do," said Archer.
Trip, gave Archer a twisted knowing smile. "Sounds like we've had this conversation before."
"Once or twice."
"So is this game one we've watched before? Because it's not fair to take advantage of the guy with the Swiss cheese memory. Especially if we're going to make bets on who wins."
"Did I say anything about making bets?" In fact they had watched the game before, a few months ago when Archer had visited Trip in the hospice, but that hadn't been one of Trip's better days. Archer was fairly certain that he wouldn't remember.
"No, but I know that look," replied Trip. Phlox returned with the monitor and positioned it so that his patient and visitor could both see the screen.
"Okay, no betting. We'll just watch the game."
Archer raised the head of Trip's bed a little so that he could see the screen better. Trip was too weak to move on his own much. His daily routine involved physiotherapy to keep his muscles working but they were badly atrophied and Archer doubted that it was doing much to help. Trip was also turned in bed frequently, to prevent bed sores from forming, another indignity that he bore surprisingly well.
"Are you ready, Commander," asked Phlox.
Trip gave a small unhappy nod and Phlox proceeded to insert the feeding tube. After checking it was positioned correctly he connected the bag of liquid food. It usually took about an hour to empty the bag, so hopefully water polo would distract Trip for long enough that the tube would be able to come out soon afterwards.
Archer started up the game recording and they watched water polo, making the usual comments while Stanford lost to UCLA. Archer wasn't sure if Trip would remember that he was Stanford man, but the good natured ribbing that he was receiving soon made it clear that this wasn't something that Trip had forgotten. Archer didn't have the heart to complain because Trip kept forgetting who was in which colours and celebrating the wrong goals. He was glad for any vaguely normal time he could have with Trip at the moment, the lucid periods were becoming few and far between.
The game was entering the last few minutes when the com sounded. "Reed to Archer."
Archer went to the com on the wall of sickbay. "Archer here. Go ahead Malcolm."
"Captain, you're needed on the bridge." Archer glanced over at Trip who still seemed to be happily watching the end of the game, the feeding tube forgotten.
"I'll be right there," said Archer, closing the circuit. "Sorry Trip, but I've got to go. I'll be down again later."
"No problem, Captain, I'll catch you later." Trip looked a little disappointed, but he was doing his best to hide it. Archer supposed that even in his current state of confusion, being in sickbay all the time couldn't be much fun.
Archer left sickbay and made his way as quickly as he could to the bridge. T'Pol and Mayweather were already there with Reed.
"What's the problem?"
"We have a contact on long range sensors," said T'Pol.
"Is it on an intercept course?" asked Archer.
"If it maintains its present heading, it will converge with Enterprise's course in a little under four days."
"But we'll arrive at the station in less than seventy two hours," said Reed.
"So if it changes course when we stop, we'll know if they're following us," said Archer.
"Indeed," replied T'Pol.
"How long will that give us once we reach the station?"
"If they maintain their current speed, approximately twenty hours," said T'Pol.
"That doesn't give us much time for Phlox to do what he needs to do," said Archer. He prayed to whichever gods would listen that it would be enough.
Erika Hernandez hadn't ever expected to be chasing Enterprise, but then she hadn't ever expected Jonathan Archer to steal his own ship. Although, she remembered, Archer did have a history of stealing NX class ships, and she often wondered how he'd managed to wriggle his way out of that one, along with Trip Tucker and AG Robinson. Stealing the NX-Beta had been a stroke of genius that she wished she had been there to witness. The three of them had been rather notorious after that escapade, but it hadn't seemed to hurt their careers any. She certainly hadn't thought Archer would make a habit out of stealing ships.
Her coms officer had to wake her to take the call that had come through from Admiral Gardner. It was late night ship's time on Columbia and she had been in no mood for jokes, which was what she had thought this was at first. The mere idea of Archer stealing Enterprise was just laughable, until she heard the rest of the story.
She knew about Trip's illness, and had even made it over to visit him the last time Columbia had been at Earth. Trip had been weak and shaky, but still able to hold a conversation, a shadow of the former bright spark who had briefly been Chief Engineer on Columbia. It hurt her just to see the changes in him and she could only imagine how much worse it had to be for Archer, his best friend. He couldn't even be there with Trip, because Enterprise took him away.
So, maybe she shouldn't have been surprised to hear that Trip had been kidnapped from his hospital bed and, a short while later, Enterprise had been stolen by her Captain. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together and work out that Trip was now on Enterprise with Archer. Why he was on Enterprise, now that was a question she couldn't answer. She certainly wasn't buying the theory that the Admiral seemed to be subscribing to, that Archer had taken Trip out in Enterprise one last time. Trip wouldn't have wanted Archer to sacrifice his career for a meaningless gesture, and Archer would have found a way to do it that didn't involve stealing Enterprise, if that's what Trip had really wanted. This was something else.
She had known Archer for a long time and she had never known him to be reckless. He would take risks, every captain had to, but he would calculate those risks carefully. If it came down to it and the only way out was to be careless with someone's life, then it was always his own he would put forward for sacrifice. Jonathan Archer didn't do anything without a good reason.
About an hour ago they had detected a ship on the long range sensors. The contact appeared as a tiny dot in the surrounding empty universe. It was travelling in the right direction and had to be Enterprise. Reality snapped into sharp focus. She had orders to find Enterprise and return it to space dock, but the man who had stolen it was her friend. More than her friend. She was in an impossible situation, but she had to do her duty and bring Enterprise home. No one wanted to be faced with the choice of duty or friendship, but here she was.
She kept telling herself that she was doing the right thing, but if she was in the right then why did she feel like she was betraying something? She was a Judas, pure and simple. Except it wasn't simple. She found herself angry with Archer for putting her in this position. Everyone in Starfleet knew that obeying orders was part of the job, even if you didn't like those orders.
She wondered what Archer would do if he was chasing her. Would he place duty over friendship and fire on Columbia? If it came to it, could she fire on Enterprise? Her orders were clear. She was authorised to use force if necessary, although they would prefer to recapture Enterprise without it being damaged. Archer had once told her that he saw in her the person that he had been before the Delphic Expanse. She wondered what he would see in her now as she hunted down Enterprise.
Archer felt immense relief when the station came into view and became progressively larger on the forward view screen. Finally they had arrived.
"Archer to sickbay, is Trip ready for transport?"
"Yes, Captain. We are waiting for you in the launch bay," said Phlox. They had discussed using the transporter but dismissed the idea. No one knew what effect the transporter could have on an already seriously ill patient.
"T'Pol, Hoshi, you're with me, Malcolm, you have the bridge," said Archer.
"Yes, sir," replied Reed. His main duty would be keeping an eye on the approaching sensor contact which they were now sure was chasing them. The signature identified it as a Starfleet vessel and they were almost certain that it was Columbia. It had been the nearest ship to their position when they left space dock, and therefore the most likely to be ordered to find them.
T'Pol, Hoshi and Archer made their way down to the launch bay. Lieutenant Commander Hess was already there, helping to get the medical equipment that Phlox needed loaded onto the shuttlepod. Trip lay on a gurney staring up at the ceiling, wires and tubes running around his body to various medical devices. For the first time that morning, Trip hadn't recognised Archer. It was the final insult that this disease could give to him. Clarke's Syndrome had robbed him of his father and now it had taken his best friend as well. Except this time Archer could fight back, this time he had a weapon.
He approached Trip and eyes slid toward the movement. There was no life behind these eyes, they were only taking in the picture not really interpreting what they saw.
"We're going to go over to the station now Trip," said Archer, giving one of Trip's hands a squeeze. Trip's hands weren't much use now, little more than stiff, bent claws. It would have been impossible to tell that these hands had once had a deft touch with the smallest electronic components.
"Where am I?" asked Trip, his words dry, quiet and slow. He was obviously disorientated and he didn't seem to be able to concentrate on any one thing for more than a few minutes. Phlox had said that at least some of this might be the large dosages of painkiller that he was on, but it was most definitely getting worse.
"You're on Enterprise."
"Enterprise? What's Enterprise?"
"It's a spaceship," said Archer, keeping things basic.
Trip seemed to accept that he was on a spaceship and returned to looking around him, occasionally closing his eyes when a wave of pain hit.
"Don't worry, we're looking after you," added Archer, but Trip didn't seem to be paying any attention. Suddenly Archer felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He had watched his friend become weaker over the months on Enterprise and then be permanently hospitalised. Now this man who lay on the stretcher in front of him wasn't Trip. Everything that made him Trip was gone. This was a shell that was wracked with pain and delusions, who didn't even know where he was or who he was. Trip looked so fragile and ill, and this cure was his only chance, and, if it didn't work, these were his last days.
There it was, the stark reality that this might fail and Archer's fear that he would have given up his career, given up Enterprise, for nothing. He hadn't allowed himself to consider the possibility that the cure might not work and that he could still lose Trip. He hadn't had the time earlier to think about what would happen if this failed, and he didn't have the time now. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind again. He couldn't afford to break down now, there was still too much to be done. This wasn't the end. Trip wasn't always going to be ill. It might hurt to see him like this, but he would get better. He had to.
Archer took a deep breath and saw that the medical equipment had been stowed. It was time to get Trip on board. They carefully moved the stretcher on to the shuttlepod, securing it tightly and placing straps across Trip to hold him in place. Phlox and Hoshi took seats on the bench opposite where Trip was secured. Arched moved to the pilot's seat while T'Pol and Hess took the seats behind.
Archer clicked on the com. "Malcolm we're ready to go, open the launch bay doors."
"Good luck, sir," replied Reed. "Opening launch bay doors."
The shuttlepod flew out into space and Archer set them on a course towards the station. He spared a quick glance back towards Trip who seemed to be sleeping. Phlox was bent over his patient, checking his instruments and monitors. He returned his attention to the controls, once again find that keeping his mind on the task at hand was the only way not to allow his emotion to overcome him.
They reached the station a few minutes later, docking at one end of the central spindle. They disembarked, once again moving Trip as carefully as they could. He still seemed to be sleeping, which as far as Archer was concerned was a good thing. If Trip was sleeping he wasn't hurting.
"We need to find the right area of the station where the genetic manipulation equipment is, and any information on how to use it," said Phlox.
"I'll get to work on the computer. We might need to crack the next level of encryption to get what we need. That could take a little time," said Hoshi.
"Work as quickly as you can," said Archer. "Columbia will be here in less than twenty hours."
"I've been working on the files that we downloaded from when we were here before," said Hoshi. "I've made a lot of progress. I just need to get onto the main database, and I could use T'Pol's help."
T'Pol inclined her head in acknowledgement. She and Hoshi began to work on the computer.
An alarm sounded from one of the monitors on Trip's gurney. Phlox was beside his patient in seconds.
"He's having trouble breathing. His blood oxygen level is dropping," said Phlox as Archer came up beside him. Phlox got out an oxygen mask and slipped it over Trip's nose and mouth. "I may have to intubate if he gets worse."
Archer met Phlox's eyes. "How long, Doctor?"
"Impossible to say. He's dying and, for the moment, there isn't much else we can do for him, apart from keep him comfortable."
Archer could only pace while he waited for Hoshi and T'Pol to crack the encryption and find the location that they needed.
It didn't actually take that long for them to find what was needed but time was stretching artificially for Archer. He had been watching Trip take shallow breaths and he didn't like what he saw. Every moment they spent searching for what they needed was Trip's life slipping through his fingers. He couldn't bare to fail now that he was this close.
Finally Hoshi called Archer over. "I've found it, or at least I've found the suite we need." She handed Archer a padd. "Level three, room 24. I've downloaded the map onto the padd, along with all the instructions and references to Clarke's Syndrome that I could find."
"Thanks, Hoshi," said Archer.
"There are security locks on some of the doors that we will need to pass through," said T'Pol.
"No problem, the Commander always told me never to leave home without my electronic lock pick," said Hess.
"Good advice," replied Archer with a smile. "Although I'm not sure whether I should be worried that my crew always leave home ready for larceny."
"Less larceny and more curiosity," said Hess, flashing Archer a quick smile.
"I'll stay here and see what else I can get out of the computer. I know that there's more in here," said Hoshi. "There's something very familiar about this encryption."
Archer nodded. "Keep at it and let us know if you find anything."
They left Hoshi to work her magic on the computers and moved into the main station. The lights were dim and the dark grey of the metal was oppressive. Shadows seemed to be following them, hiding unknowns in every corner. Archer really didn't like this place. Put plainly, it gave him the creeps, but there was no basis for his feelings of anxiety, just his dislike of why this place existed. Human experimentation would always be abhorrent as far as he was concerned, no matter what good came of it. So far he had buried his ethical issues about what they were doing, but he knew he'd have to deal with the moral implications later. It was now almost certain that he would probably be justifying his actions to a court martial as well as his own conscience, but his only concern in the present was Trip.
He wondered if Trip would be able to reconcile his cure with how it had been achieved. The others had obviously decided that the end justified their breaking of regulations, but Trip hadn't really had a say in this. Archer had asked him if he wanted them to break him out of the hospice but he had been sketchy on the details. It was possible that Trip would live but he could still lose his friend. Trip was a very moral person and he might not like what Archer had done in his name. Another thought that he really wished he wasn't thinking right now, and would be shut away until Trip was on his way to recovery.
Hess didn't have any trouble breaking into the secure areas of the station, which wasn't a surprise given the age of the technology. That made Archer wonder why the encryption had given Hoshi so much trouble, but he didn't have time to think about that at the moment.
"This is the room," said T'Pol. She reached out to press the button to open the door but the mechanism didn't seem to be working.
Hess went to work on the door, ripping off the wall panel and reconnecting wires and circuits. Finally she had it and the door jerked open a few inches. Archer and T'Pol were able to prise it open the rest of the way. Inside the room was an array of medical technology. Phlox was already moving Trip's gurney inside.
"According to Hoshi's information, the machine we need is fairly simple to use," said Phlox. He went to a white semi circle tubular arch, that looked a little like the Enterprise sickbay scanner. A bed was ready and waiting under the white arch, obviously put in place for the patient. He patted the smooth white cowling. "This is the one we need. I've used something similar on Denobula but this seems to be of alien design."
"So what do we do?"
"Find the on switch," said Phlox examining the machine.
Hess also began examining the machine. "I think this is it." She flicked the switch and small lights immediately appeared on the front of the machine's control interface.
"Well done, Commander," said Phlox.
T'Pol was looking with interest at the display. "This is Tenebian."
"Tenebian?" asked Archer.
"A race of beings who made contact with Vulcan approximately two hundred years ago. Following many years of space exploration, a change in their government led to their decision to isolate themselves. They have not been heard of for many years," said T'Pol.
"Can you read this?" asked Archer. They often forgot that T'Pol spoke several languages, relying on Hoshi's language skills in most situations. English must have been a nightmare for a logical Vulcan to learn and speak so fluently.
"Yes, I believe so," said T'Pol.
Phlox and T'Pol worked out the controls with a little help from Commander Hess.
"Move the Commander to the bed," said Phlox, once they were confident that they knew how the machine worked.
Archer and Hess lifted Trip onto the machine and Phlox busied himself setting the controls correctly.
"There are two aspects to the process," said Phlox. "The first is a genetic treatment that corrects the flaw in the genetic sequence. This will effectively cure the disease."
"If he'll be cured then what's the second part for?" asked Archer.
"To simplify greatly, Clarke's Syndrome builds barriers within the brain which is why muscles refuse to work properly and memories are lost. The second part of the treatment destroys those barriers and should lead to him regaining his memories and ability to function normally. Although it will take some time to regain muscle mass and for the brain to readjust."
"And because the genetic problem is corrected, he won't relapse?" asked Archer.
"That is correct," said Phlox. "I should say that this treatment is not without risk, especially in an already weakened patient, but given the circumstances…"
"We have no choice," finished Archer.
"Exactly," said Phlox.
"How long will the treatment take?" asked T'Pol.
"It is two sessions of six hours, with a break of at least six hours in between for the patient to rest," said Phlox.
"Eighteen hours," said Archer.
"We're cutting it fine if we want to be gone before Columbia gets here," said Hess.
"You should also note that once each part of the treatment has begun, it cannot be interrupted. If he is removed from the machine before its work is finished then it will kill him. Once we begin, there is no going back."
"Understood, Doctor," said Archer. "Let's get started."
Phlox nodded once and then turned back to the controls. The machine leapt to life and began its cycle. A white light emanated from the half ring and the bed moved slowly into the mouth of the device until Trip's whole body was swallowed by the machine. A small view screen allowed them to see Trip's still form lying within the machine. All they could do now was wait.
Hoshi continued working on the encryption. She was getting tired but they were on a tight schedule here. She hadn't met a system that she couldn't beat yet. It was all just language to her and language was just code. She entered another couple of numbers into the sequence and it was as if she'd just wiped the dust from a window. She could see the patterns clearly, it was easy now. A few moments later she had files in plain English.
She began to read and, as she read, she realised just how wrong they had been about the station they were on.