Reed's period of confinement didn't last long, a mere two days, but the message it sent was clear enough. He'd been confined for a comically minor infraction by Commander Tucker, whose actions appeared to be supported and even approved by Captain Archer. Not to mention Phlox's timing on that not-so-subtle message that it was time for Reed to think about leaving the ship.
Certainly it was not the most severe punishment Reed had ever received, far from it. But it was perhaps the first time that he'd gotten the impression that the punishment hadn't been for something he'd done, was believed to have done, or hadn't done that he'd been told to do. Despite Tucker's claims of his insubordination, it was evident enough to Reed that the real reason he'd been sent to his quarters was because he was no longer welcome among the ship's crew. Something about his very presence seemed to bother them, and their hostile response to that was increasing.
The only exception to this was Travis, who had reluctantly admitted to getting the same sort of vibe as Reed. It wasn't lost on either of them that Hoshi no longer joined them for breakfast. Being lower down the command chain, Travis didn't take as much flak from Archer and Tucker as Reed did, but apparently he'd been catching it from his friends on board.
"I don't get it," Travis said one morning, "I'm the same guy I've always been. I haven't even mentioned the spice once since we got here. But it seems like, no matter what I do, everybody's mad at me."
Or just plain mad.
Reed said, "Maybe that's exactly the problem. We haven't changed, but everyone else has. And, for whatever reason, it upsets them that we're not following suit."
"Yeah, I guess," Travis said, frowning at his plate, "But I don't get why. I mean, it's not like we're hurting them or getting in their way. We couldn't, even if we wanted to."
But maybe that was the point. Something about Travis and Reed's lack of conformity was taken as a threat. That hypothesis certainly lined up with the change of attitude shown by captain and crew. It was less dislike and more distrust. And that distrust eventually found expression in seemingly random or excessive rebukes. Not that this realization did them much good.
Captain Archer's team had returned to the ship with additional spice and a handful of the mushrooms. According to an enthusiastic Commander Tucker (who seemed to have completely forgotten his altercation with Reed two days before), the mushrooms came in more than one variety, and could be refined in different ways. The Dolizet used them for a variety of purposes in addition to mere pleasant flavoring. Tucker seemed most excited about the potential intimate benefits of the spice when refined in a certain way. Despite Reed asking not to hear more details of what those intimate benefits were, Tucker had gone into a rather passionately extensive description of them.
According to Tucker, the Dolizet had asked nothing in return for the secrets of growing and refining the spice. To Reed, that was an immediate red flag. But Tucker dismissed his concerns by insisting that the Dolizet were probably, "Just glad word's gettin' out about their mushrooms. Like maybe it's their way of spreadin' a little good cheer around the galaxy."
For some reason, the vacuous expression on Tucker's face as he spoke had thrust Reed's mind back to a time years prior, when he'd been standing in his father's study, listening not to a tale of Naval exploits (his father's greatest love), but to a tiresome lecture on arthropods (which were second only to the Royal Navy in his father's heart). Only he couldn't quite remember what his father had been saying. He feared it was because he hadn't really been listening. Maybe his father had given the same lecture more than once. Had he ever listened? Maybe he had but had forgotten in the intervening decades.
That thought came back to him now, but he still couldn't place its relevance.
However, the pause in the conversation did cause him to notice something about Travis' plate of eggs.
"You don't seem to be having any of the spice."
"Oh… I can't eat it anymore," Travis said regretfully, a wistful look in his eyes, "Not since Dr. Phlox took me off the allergy meds I was taking for it. Something about long-term side effects or something. Personally, I think he just wants more spice for himself."
"You're allergic to the spice too?" Reed asked.
"Sure. Lots of people on board are. But most of them don't get nasty side effects from Phlox's preferred allergy meds. Since I do, I've been having to take something else. Phlox says it'd do permanent damage in the long run, so it was either quit eating the spice or eventually get sick from it."
Reed nodded, more to himself than Travis. He had a feeling he knew exactly what medication Travis had been taking. The only difference between them was that Reed was reactive to any exposure to the spice. Evidently, Travis had a milder response. It didn't sound as if Phlox had recommended Travis leave the ship at least… though somehow Reed had the feeling that was coming, but not on any real medical grounds.
"Anyway," Travis sighed, "I suppose you're probably happy about it."
"Why?" Reed asked, baffled as to why Travis' allergy to the spice should please him.
"Well, you've made it pretty clear you don't like the spice, and think it's to blame for the changes in the crew's behavior," Travis replied somewhat diffidently.
Reed shook his head, "I have no idea what's causing it."
"Oh come on, sir," Travis scoffed, "You've been against the spice from day one."
"The timing of the spice's arrival and the change in the crew's behavior hardly seems like it can be a coincidence, I'll admit," Reed said, "But Dr. Phlox ran tests before it came on board in significant quantity, and well before most of the crew ingested it. According to him, it's no more dangerous than chocolate or coffee. As far as I've been able to determine, the fixation on the spice is wholly innocent, or a side effect of something unrelated."
Still, Travis had a point. Reed was almost as obsessed with the spice as everyone else, only in the opposite direction. As much as he had been trying to ignore that fact, and pretend to himself that he'd dismissed his concerns about the spice, he kept circling back to it. The spice was the only obvious addition to Enterprise that had been made near the time when the crew's behavior began to noticeably change, and their obsessive fondness for it felt like it had to be a clue, even though Reed knew that some members of the crew actually didn't like or care about it. Those crew members were in such a minority that it hardly seemed worth counting them.
Then again… couldn't the same be said for Travis and Reed? They were two out of eighty three, and Reed hadn't seen evidence that anyone else was like them. They were the statistical outliers, which would be thrown out of the final analysis for being too small in number to be worth noticing or bothering about. Which sounded good in science class because it simplified things enormously, but when you happened to be the outlier, you didn't particularly want to be thrown away just because you were considered to be statistically irrelevant.
It was like running on a treadmill. No matter how hard he worked, or how fast he tried to go, he wasn't getting anywhere. He was spending a great deal of time thinking hard about the problem and achieving nothing. And now his persistent headache was getting worse again.
"You don't happen to know anything about arthropods, do you, Ensign?" Reed asked suddenly.
Travis looked startled, "You mean like insects? No…. Not really. Why?"
"Nothing. No reason," Reed replied… but was that the truth?
Something had clicked in his mind when Phlox said the spice was made from mushrooms. And somehow that something connected back to half-remembered lectures his father had given on arthropods. What he didn't know was whether it tied back to the problem they were facing, largely because he was missing too many pieces to put the puzzle together.
"Rissa might though," Travis suggested, evidently well aware that Reed was presently avoiding both T'Pol and Phlox where he could, "She's an ecologist, so she must have done some studying on arthropods. You could try talking to her."
After another grim, dull shift, Reed sought out Souci, who was in one of the science labs, studying a sample of one of the mushrooms the landing party had brought back.
The mushroom from which the sample had been taken was sitting in a container on a nearby counter. The mushroom was purple, about twelve centimeters high, with a tall, narrow cap like a steeply pitched roof. It actually looked a rather like a violet webcap. Reed vaguely recalled his father talking about those on one of the astonishingly rare occasions he wasn't talking about the Royal Navy or his insect collection. Not a terribly tasty fungus, nor terribly useful in any other capacity. Mostly it was simply rare, which was enough for people who liked to scour the world in search of mushrooms to take pictures of. Everyone had to have a hobby, Reed supposed, though he could think of little that struck him as being less interesting than trekking into the wilderness for the express purpose of looking at mushrooms. Particularly now.
"You must be becoming quite the expert on mushrooms these days," Reed ventured cautiously.
Souci could be trying to deal with when you were on her good side, and these days Reed wasn't on anyone's good side. Besides which, Reed had never been very good at social interactions, particularly with people whose fields of interest were not aligned with his own.
"What do you want, Lieutenant?" Souci asked bluntly, not looking up from her sample.
Oh what he wouldn't give to be able to actually answer that question.
Instead, Reed merely said, "I was hoping you might be able to help me remember the name of a mushroom, one that's native to Earth."
"I'm sure Chef would be happy to tell you what he has in stock," Souci muttered.
"No it's not like that. It's not one I've eaten before. In fact, I'm not sure it's edible at all. It's one my father used to spend a lot of time talking about," Reed told her.
"Figures your dad would be a fungus guy," Souci remarked, "Explains a lot about you."
"What?" Reed was unprepared for that response, and half-wondered if there was something insulting in it, before deciding it didn't matter, "Actually no. He has an insect collection. It seems like the mushroom had… something to do with ants. I'm afraid I never shared my father's fascination for the subject."
"Attini," Souci said.
"Excuse me?"
"That's the name of a tribe of ants known for farming fungi. As opposed to the ones that farm aphids," when Reed gave her an odd look, Souci spoke defensively, "What? I'm an ecologist. Farmer ants is beginning level stuff. Anyway, you're the one who brought it up."
"It's just… it's been bothering me all day and I didn't expect there'd be anyone on board who'd know the answer," Reed said after a moment, "But the one I'm thinking of is less… mutualistic. I think," he sighed, "As I said, it was never my subject."
"Why the interest now?" Souci asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, "You're not still on that anti-spice kick are you?"
"No, it's just..." Reed tried to come up with something convincing, but improvisation was never something he'd been good at either, "Well… I was… planning to write a letter. To my father. And..."
"And you wanted to pretend you have some interest in his hobbies," Souci nodded, her expression clearing, "I am familiar with that concept."
Reed checked a sigh of relief before it could escape and possibly give him away.
"Zombie mushroom," Souci said.
"Zombie mushroom?" Reed repeated, not sure he'd heard right.
"Popular term for cordyceps. They're entomopathogenic," at Reed's blank expression, Souci said, "Basically it means they're parasites. Specifically to bugs. There's like… six or seven hundred species, most of which pick on a certain species of arthropod. But they're not content just feeding off life fluids and that sort of thing like a regular parasite. Oh no, these nasty little fu-" she broke off then continued, "-ngi go right for the behavior center. Redirect the bug's activity to suit their own needs. Generally send the bug off to a nice comfy little spot with all the nutrients the fungus needs to grow up big and strong… and then the bug dies and its body turns into a lovely little planter for the mushroom. Anyway, the term zombie mushroom sounds neat, but really doesn't apply, since the bugs aren't undead… their behavior's just rewritten to serve the needs of the fungus. Sort of like how rabies changes an animal's behavior in order to spread itself more efficiently… that is, until the animal dies."
"Charming," Reed said, staring at her.
She was so quick and casual in speaking of something so gruesome. But he supposed that, for her, it was just one of a multitude of minor subjects she had become fluent in to become an expert in her field, not unlike Reed's own expertise. He'd been accused of being morbid a time or two in describing exactly the type of damage one weapon or another could cause to living tissue.
"You asked," Souci reminded him, "I always preferred marine biology. That's where the real weird stuff is anyway. Or as weird as things get on Earth."
"Yes," Reed said, "I appreciate it. I'm sure… my father will be pleased to think I paid attention."
"You know," Souci said, with an amused half-smile, "For such a close mouthed guy, you're surprisingly straight forward when you finally do say something."
"Uh… thanks… I think."
"So is that all you wanted to know?" Souci asked, "Because I do have work to do."
"Oh," Reed was still somewhat stunned at how well this conversation had gone, "No. I think I can look up anything else I need to know in the computer database, now I've got a place to start."
Enterprise's computer was loaded with as much information about every topic of possible relevance anybody could think of, but especially when it came to different types of lifeform. This was enormously helpful for its primary mission of exploration, as it allowed checking for similar types of lifeform, or precedent for a certain type. Even before Enterprise was launched, it had become apparent that space was full of astonishingly similar lifeforms.
"Alright then," Souci said, returning her attention to the sample, "Good luck with your dad."
Reed acknowledged this and left. He sort of wanted to ask what Souci was studying about the mushroom, and if she'd learned anything, but he somehow doubted she had any information he could use on that score. Almost without doubt, she'd tell him roughly the same thing as Phlox had, albeit from an ecologist's view point rather than a medical doctor's.
No, he'd have to do the research on his own. But the Enterprise computer banks should have everything he needed… if he could understand the information.
He wanted to see for himself that there was no connection between the Dolizet mushrooms and the cordyceps, because it felt as if there really could be. If there was, Phlox should have caught it, but Reed just wouldn't be able to let go of the notion without seeing some kind of proof that he was on the wrong track. The simple fact of the matter was… he had nothing else to go on.