The door swished closed and, not for the first time, Malcolm realised just how small the ready room was. No chance of putting much of a physical distance between himself and Archer, who was now giving him his back and looked pensive, as if he were at a loss just how to begin this conversation. After a moment he turned to face him, and Malcolm, who was standing at parade attention with his eyes straight ahead, felt this Captain's gaze bore into him.
"What's going on, Lieutenant?" Archer fired. "We haven't known each other for a very long time, granted, but you've never impressed me as someone who would need to be made to toe the line. I disregarded the incident of the defective charge, but just now you disobeyed a direct order from your C.O. Would you care to explain that?"
Malcolm took a deep breath, which made him stand even straighter. "I have been experiencing… something strange, Captain." He dared a glance. Archer was a rock of granite.
"Define strange."
Malcolm wavered, then threw propriety aside, broke his stance and turned to his Captain, hoping that perhaps looking straight into the man's eyes might help him understand that what he was about to say, preposterous as it may sound, was the truth.
"Yesterday, on the planet," he began, going for the simple facts, "then during target practice tonight, and just a few moments ago… I… saw what was going to happen and felt… a compelling urge to take – or in the last case not take –action." He winced, because spoken out loud, it sounded truly outlandish.
Archer frowned. "What do you mean you saw…"
"I actually had a vision of those rocks falling before they did," Malcolm said. He watched his Captain jerk his chin back in disbelief. "Sir," he continued, "I saw T'Pol's phase pistol charge about to blow up in her face, and… Well, just now I saw the bridge of that alien ship and knew, don't ask me how, that those people weren't hostile and that it would be a mistake to fire."
There was a long silence.
Archer pursed his lips. "And you didn't think of telling me that this was happening to you, Mr. Reed?" he wondered, rather more darkly than Malcolm would have liked. "You're my Armoury and Security Officer. A senior officer. I must be able to rely on you."
"And you can, Sir!" Malcolm vehemently said. "If I disregarded your order, it was only to safeguard the ship, because I saw… I knew…" He silently cursed and returned to the comfort of a military stance. "I don't know what to think of it, Captain. Yesterday, on the planet, I told myself that perhaps my training had somehow alerted me to danger. Then, after target practice, I went to talk to Phlox. When you called us to the Bridge, I was in Sickbay, discussing the matter with the Doctor." Malcolm turned once again to lock eyes with Archer. "I would've come to you next, Captain," he concluded in a smoky voice, "just, there wasn't any time." The one thing that he'd defend with tooth and nail was his professional integrity. "I will accept any disciplinary action you see fit to take against me, Sir."
Archer fidgeted with a pad that was on his desk. "Punish you for averting three potentially dangerous situations?" He huffed out a breathy laugh that held no humour. "That'd be something." After a moment he enquired, "What did Phlox say?"
"Not much," Malcolm had to admit. "He wants to investigate."
Archer nodded slowly. "And so should he. Report to him first thing in the morning, Lieutenant."
"Aye, Sir." Malcolm began to relax a little.
The comm. link beeped. "The alien shuttlepod will be docking in ten minutes," T'Pol's voice informed them.
"Thank you. I'll meet you at the docking bay."
Silence fell heavily once again in the small ready room. Archer looked pensive. "You ought to take security with you, Captain, no matter how friendly these people seem to be," Malcolm dared. "Shall I contact Ensign Müller?"
Archer heaved a deep sigh, then got up. "Come on, Lieutenant," he said. "These visions of yours, after all, have been quite a blessing. Let's see just how colourful these people are."
Malcolm was taken aback, but he quickly recovered. "Thank you, Sir," he said, "I'll try not to… daydream." Stepping dutifully aside to let his Captain pass, he silently prayed that this first encounter would hide no surprises.
"There isn't very much time left, they'll be here in a couple of days."
"The impresser is too weak! He virtually lost consciousness, after the last session."
"All right, we'll let him rest, but if the plan fails, he and his family will pay with their lives, so he'd better do his job properly…"
The Colourful Aliens, for a change, had turned out to be a friendly and fun-loving species. Malcolm had had no more visions and had slept soundly. In the morning, he had reported to Sickbay, where Phlox had turned him inside out without finding anything wrong with him. Somewhat relieved, he had buried himself in work. Once again, however, Müller had reported problems with the aft cannon.
As he entered Trip's domain, Malcolm saw the Chief Engineer turn to the sound of the hatch opening. From on top the warp engine's platform, Trip cast him an inquisitive look. "Hey," he said when Malcolm had reached the base of the platform. "You ok? "Did the Capt'n tear you up badly, last night?""
Malcolm stretched his neck uncomfortably. "Just a small misunderstanding."
Trip seemed appeased by that. He let out a chuckle and said, "I've had dreams with flashy colours all night long!"
"Tell me about it. Those people make me rather appreciate the grey bulkheads of Enterprise," Malcolm commented, glad that the conversation had steered away from himself. He cleared his throat. "Commander, may I have a moment of your time?"
"Just a sec." Trip glanced at the info on his computer screen, inputted a few commands, then quickly climbed down the ladder, and turned to him. "What's up?"
"It's the aft cannon again. Those energy fluctuations have reappeared."
"That can't be right, I thought we'd fixed that."
"So did I, but..." Malcolm handed over a pad.
Trip studied the readings. "Huh," he said, scratching his head. "I'll look into the matter ASAP, I promise. As soon as I've found out what the hell is wrong with the comm system. As I'm sure you've noticed, it's been acting up and now it's completely down. The Capt'n was pretty mad about having to shout to have his Eggs Benedict delivered to the table."
Malcolm smiled at the mental image. This man always found the funny side of things. "Anything I can help with?"
"Nah…" Tucker raked a hand through his hair. "I'll get to the bottom of it. But thanks for the offer. I'll come round, I promise."
Nodding, Malcolm turned on his heels and left Engineering. As he walked along the corridor towards the Armoury, he remembered the first time he had been introduced to Commander Trip Tucker III. That day, he had thought that to survive on the same ship he'd have to keep his distance from such a superior officer. The only thing he and Tucker had in common, he had quickly decided, was their dedication to the job. At times there had, indeed, been a little friction between them, like when they were building the cannons, but in the end, surprisingly, they had worked well together. There were aspects of Trip's personality that still annoyed him, but he had come to realise that he was a very genuine person.
Malcolm pressed the button in the turbolift and leaned with his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Since the incident on the planet, he had wanted to take the Commander aside and tell him about the strange things that were happening to him – if there was one person on board he now felt he could open up to, this was Tucker – but there just hadn't been the opportunity and the time. He promised himself to do so as soon as possible. Maybe even that very night. He'd drop by his quarters and-
Malcolm blinked as the turbo lift blurred. Not again! Mesmerized, he contemplated the vision that was forming before his eyes: Trip was on top of the warp engine's platform. Sparks were popping and running towards him. A cascade? An explosion? Beads of perspiration formed on Malcolm's forehead, and he frantically felt about for the lift's commands. He banged his palm against them and managed to stop its ascent. His vision turned crude and crystal-clear. He saw the Commander take the brunt of the deflagration and be thrown off the platform, while alarms went off and flames licked the warp engine. Confusion reigned in Engineering. Hess was bending over Tucker's body, which was sprawled on the ground, bloodied and seemingly lifeless… Then another explosion, a bigger one… pieces of hull plating flying in space…
Malcolm refocused on his own breathing, which had become ragged. How much time before it actually happened? Shaking his head violently, he managed to clear his sight and mind. Blinking, he accessed the comm link. "Reed to Tucker! Respond!" But only static was the answer. Of course! The comm system was down… He furiously imputed the command to return to the Engineering deck.
Come on, come on…
As soon as the lift door opened, he propelled himself out, banging into a crewman. He ran along the corridor pushing people out of the way without as much as a word of 'sorry'. He threw himself against the Engineering hatch and burst inside shouting, "Commander!"
"I told you, I'm busy, Malcolm," the man griped. "I've got my hands fu-"
"There's going to be a cascade! The conduits!
The entire department stopped and looked at him, and there was a fraction of a second of total stillness that felt like ages. Then the Chief Engineer began to bark out urgent orders, and his crew responded. Engineering became animated with people focused on a single task. Malcolm stood in the middle feeling useless, but the best thing for him was to keep out of the way and pray that he had sounded the alarm early enough.
And then, he could not tell how long after, Trip shouted, "End of the alert, everyone, go back to your previous jobs," and leaned with outstretched hands on his console, letting his head drop forward.
There was a general low buzz. Malcolm approached the platform. "Did you manage to stop it?"
Tucker rose to his full height and turned all the way to face him. "Stop what, exactly?" he asked with a fuming look. "'Cause there wasn't any cascade."
Malcolm grabbed one of poles supporting the platform, frowning. "Are you certain?"
"Are you questioning the Chief Engineer's words, Lieutenant?" Trip bit back. He all but jumped down the platform, making Malcolm take a couple of quick steps back. "Or is that your idea of a joke? Because it isn't funny." He took Malcolm by one arm. "Come with me," he said. With a "mind the shop, Hess," he headed for the hatch, leaving Malcolm no other option than to follow him.
The next stop was cargo bay one, which was the closest place where they could have some privacy. Indeed, no one was there.
As soon as he heard the hatch close, Trip turned and confronted Malcolm directly. "What the hell is wrong with you, Malcolm? And don't give me your standard reply that you're fine because we both know that it isn't so."
Malcolm leaned back against a crate, feeling suddenly tired. The drop in adrenaline did that to you. "I wish I knew," he huffed out.
"I'm afraid that's not good enough, Lieutenant. You nearly gave me a heart attack just now, so you're gonna have to do better than that!"
The use of rank immediately brought Malcolm back to a more military stance. He heaved a silent sigh and once again began his absurd story. "I know how this will sound, Commander, but… Well, there have been some circumstances in which I saw… saw beforehand what was going to happen, and it did." He licked his lips. "Until now, when, apparently, I was wrong." Eyes straight ahead, he belatedly remembered to tail, "Sir."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trip rub his forehead and wince.
"Are you tellin' me that you've been able to predict the future?" the man wondered after a long moment. There was no trace of anger left in his voice, only confusion.
Malcolm relaxed a little. He had to hand it to this man, he didn't stay mad for very long. "I don't know," he admitted, daring to meet Trip's gaze. "All I know is that I've been having some… well they are visions, really, and with them I also get a compelling urge to act accordingly."
"Is that what happened on that planet, when you pushed the Capt'n out of harm's way?" Trip wondered. "I thought something was weird…"
"And at target practice, with that defective charge," Malcolm continued, "and on the Bridge, when I didn't obey the Captain's order, because somehow I had seen that those people weren't hostile." He bore into Tucker's gaze. "And believe me, Commander, the last thing I wanted, just now in Engineering, was to sound a false alarm," he added, finding again a measure of his self-assurance. "But while I was in the turbo-lift, I saw it all happen: the cascade, the explosion, you flying off the platform… the ship in pieces… and I was certain that-" Malcolm cut himself off, struck by a sudden notion. "I must tell the Captain."
"Woa! Wait a moment there, you mean to tell me the Capt'n doesn't know about this?" Trip burst out. "What the hell, Malcolm! And Phlox?"
"They both know, Sir," Malcolm quickly reassured him. "Captain Archer ordered me to have a thorough check-up, and Phlox has found nothing wrong with me."
"What, then?" Trip wondered worriedly. "What do you want to tell him?"
Malcolm swallowed past a knot in his throat. "That I should be relieved of duty," he said defeatedly. "I can't possibly work if I keep having these… whatever they are, knowing, as I do now, that they don't always come true. In situations of danger, I must have a clear mind, not visions that might make me hesitant."
"But we're on a diplomatic mission, and you're supposed to accompany the Capt'n to the negotiations," Trip reasoned, almost to himself.
Frustration welled up in Malcolm's chest, for there was hardly anything he hated more than feeling weak and not being able to fulfil his duty. "What do you suggest I do, Commander, act as if nothing's happening and risk causing a diplomatic incident, or even worse, endangering Captain Archer's life?" He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "I can no longer trust myself, or these visions…"
Trip winced sympathetically. "Alright," he said softly after a moment, "let's go, Lieutenant. I'll accompany you to the Captain."
Malcolm nodded, grateful for the support. He wasn't looking forward to facing Archer in the ready room for the second time in as many days. He squared his shoulders, preparing them for the heavy burden they would have to carry, and resignedly followed Trip out of the cargo bay.
Xrey abandoned himself limply, shaken by an uncontrollable tremor. The Shinxes had pushed him too hard, driven him to exhaustion. He licked his parched lips, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head and the burning of his skin. He hadn't been in water in over a week, and that was getting life-threatening. He was beginning to think that he might not survive after all, no matter what he agreed to do for his tormentors. He had become so weak that during the last impression after giving Reed the vision of a cascade he had failed to cause it. Xrey scrunched his eyes closed, annoyed with himself, because he had been building up to this moment. That last vision was supposed to have been what had finally convinced Reed to believe in his forewarnings. What better way to make the Lieutenant trust his impressions than to make him save the ship from exploding? Now, instead, the man was totally confused, and if he was placed off duty Xrey's plan would fail miserably. He had counted on Reed being at Archer's side during the negotiations, so that Xrey could warn him of the Shinxes' intended attack and have him try and thwart the kidnapping and all that would ensue, but now…
Missing some of my old reviewers...
Anyone out there?...
