"I'm still not sure about this," Jonathan objected.
"Would you prefer I test this cure on someone unable or unwilling to consent to it?" Phlox asked.
"No, of course not," Jonathan said, "But it's just-"
"Sir," Malcolm interrupted patiently, "I'm the only logical choice. The doctor can't be the test subject because he's the only medical professional among us, not to mention the only Denobulan, and if something were to happen to you, that would leave Subcommander T'Pol in charge."
"You know I'd do it if you'd let me," Trip said.
But that was an argument he'd already lost earlier today, when Phlox had first informed them that he had a prototype cure ready to test on a human subject. What Jonathan didn't know was that Trip had actually lost the argument twice, the first time with Malcolm. Jonathan hadn't been down to the Brig since that first time, and he and Trip seldom spoke of Malcolm or anything about any of this, for fear of someone overhearing them while they were on duty, or incurring unwanted questions if they started spending a lot of time together during their off hours. They had a perfectly good excuse as friends, but the crew was already tensely suspicious of them, and there was no reason to make things worse.
"Yes I know. But I still don't like it," Jonathan sighed.
"Nobody said you had to," Phlox remarked calmly, "Your approval isn't needed here. Only your permission to continue."
"Technically, you don't even need that," Jonathan said, "This is a medical matter, and we already know I've been compromised anyway."
"Perhaps not. But I would prefer it nonetheless," Phlox replied steadily.
"As would I, sir," Malcolm said, "I think I've acted against my captain's orders enough recently."
"Whatever orders you've gone against, Malcolm, they weren't mine," Jonathan told him, but then relented, "Alright… just get on with it."
Phlox moved towards where Malcolm was sitting on his cot in the Brig, then hesitated.
"I remind you that this will be unpleasant," Phlox said, "Far from being a means of actually killing the parasites, this cure, if it works, will only alert your immune system to the fact that they are a threat, at which point it will begin trying to reject them in various ways. The side effects of that will be not unlike those of an infection."
"I'm aware of that, Doctor. Proceed."
"Very well."
Phlox injected Malcolm, but rather than stepping back, continued to stand beside him.
"So..." Trip began, "How long should-"
He broke off as Malcolm was immediately sick into the bag Phlox had produced from somewhere explicitly for that purpose. Clearly, he had anticipated the need for it.
"About that long," Phlox replied benignly, taking the bag from Malcolm, who groaned and pressed a fist against his forehead, "I recommend you lie down, Lieutenant, and try to rest."
Malcolm mumbled some kind of response, and obediently lay down on his side.
Phlox stepped away from him, and joined Jonathan and Trip outside the cell.
"The fever should set in an hour or so from now," Phlox said, "We should begin to see results after that. Assuming the human immune system is strong enough to fight back once alerted to the threat, that is."
"And if it's not?" Jonathan asked uneasily.
"Then Lt. Reed may be one of the lucky ones," Phlox replied matter-of-factly, "As the fever will kill him well before the parasites get the opportunity to do so."
Jonathan felt a little sick to the stomach himself at that thought, but said nothing. In point of fact, he'd already known the answer to the question, just as Malcolm did. Phlox had tested the cure in his lab as best he was able, but until it interacted directly with the human body, he couldn't be sure of anything. And until he was sure it worked, there wasn't much point in trying to figure out how to disseminate it throughout the crew. It was also his theory that, once his concoction effectively informed the immune system of the threat the parasites represented, it would essentially store that information.
Which might mean he could then use Malcolm to synthesize a better version of the same cure. One that might be faster acting and less unpleasant. Though in any case, how they were going to sell the rest of the crew on the idea of taking the cure was something Jonathan wasn't sure of.
Locking the cell, the three of them left Malcolm alone to fight it out with the parasites. They all knew he preferred not to have company, as he preferred to hide or downplay weaknesses, and there was no way of doing either of those things with this. There wasn't much to be done for him, and Phlox could monitor him through the interface in Sick Bay just as well as by loitering here.
As they headed towards Sick Bay, Trip asked another in a long line of questions.
"If these things are so deadly, how are the Dolizet still here? Are they immune?"
"Doubtful," Phlox replied, "More likely, they simply possess sufficient resistance to the parasites to obtain maturity and reproduce successfully. It's possible the parasites only affect adults in any case."
"But the Dolizet are advanced enough to know about the parasites. Why wouldn't they do anything about them?" Jonathan wanted to know.
"Most likely they take the parasites as a matter of course, similarly to staphylococcus or Escherichia coli in the human body. Or the demodex canis carried by Porthos," he smiled cheerfully as Jonathan looked dismayed by the thought, then continued, "Most species are in fact carrying a variety of parasites and bacteria on and inside their bodies, which are quite harmless, beneficial or even essential to their very survival," Phlox explained, "These creatures may not have a purely parasitical relationship to the Dolizet. Possibly within their species, there is some type of mutualistic relationship as a result of their coevoluation, a relationship that is lacking with other species which did not evolve on the same planet as the parasites and the mushrooms. But that's only a theory."
Jonathan said nothing to that. He tended to believe more in Phlox's theories than in a lot of people's so-called facts. The Denobulan had been a lucky find as CMO for Enterprise, having both vast experience and tremendous skill, particularly in comparison to any human doctors that were available.
Even so, Jonathan felt he was placing an awful lot of faith in his doctor's abilities, and in the cure Phlox had developed in under a week. And Malcolm was placing even greater faith in it.
Though of course, Jonathan realized that Malcolm was likely more intent on protecting his captain and ship than he was trusting of Phlox's cure.
"Well, Doc? How is he?" Jonathan asked after Phlox finished a physical examination of Malcolm about an hour after his initial injection; a process which Malcolm had seemed indifferent about.
"Feverish and nauseous, but that's to be expected," Phlox replied neutrally.
That much was obvious even from outside Malcolm's cell. Malcolm didn't look like he'd moved at all since they had last visited him, but he had broken out in shaking and sweating. Phlox had already explained that he didn't want to give Malcolm any other medications that might interfere with this one, so Malcolm was simply having to tough it out on his own. Thus far, he wasn't complaining, nor did Jonathan expect him to start doing so later on. Maybe after the crisis was over… assuming he survived.
"And?" Jonathan demanded impatiently.
"And the parasites don't appear to like his immune response very much," Phlox said.
"So it's working," Jonathan said.
"Possibly," Phlox answered carefully, "Though if all it does is simply upset them, we can hardly call it a cure. We need it to start killing them."
"And how long will we know before it's doing that?" Jonathan wanted to know.
"Hard to say. The parasites I extracted and experimented on were quite hardy. Mostly they died of starvation rather than anything I did to them," Phlox said.
"Well they're not going to starve in a human body," Jonathan pointed out.
"Probably not," Phlox conceded.
Watching Malcolm lie on the cot, shuddering from head to foot, Jonathan regretted having allowed this. There were too many maybes and what ifs involved, and they had too much to lose. Unfortunately, it was too late now. They were committed, and Malcolm was either going to live or die with the consequences. Intellectually, he knew they had little choice, but emotionally… it just didn't seem fair that anybody should have to go through this on nothing more than a maybe.
Yet Phlox insisted that, even if the cure was worse than the disease and killed Malcolm… he'd be one of the lucky ones. Of course, that was assuming Phlox didn't come up with another potential cure.
Suddenly, Jonathan said, "I have an idea about how we can get everyone to take the cure."
"Oh?" Phlox asked, but Jonathan had already gone for the comm system.
"Captain Archer to T'Pol."
The impassive voice of the Vulcan came a moment later, "T'Pol here, Captain."
"I need you to come down to the Brig," Jonathan said, giving Phlox a significant look as he added emphatically, "We have a medical situation down here. It could be a problem."
"Understood. Shall I contact Dr. Phlox?" T'Pol inquired.
"Phlox is down here already. Grab Trip if he's around."
"Understood. I am on my way."
Phlox tilted his head quizzically, but then an impish gleam came into his eyes as he said, "Captain?"
"I believe you have a patient exhibiting signs of illness, including erratic behavior, fever and chills," Jonathan said, "Don't you think it would be a good idea to find out what he's suffering from in order to devise a cure and inoculation for anyone he may have had contact with? It could have been contagious long before the symptoms showed up."
Phlox smiled, "Quite right, Captain."
"What's wrong with him?" T'Pol asked, staring at Malcolm through the window of the cell's door.
"A very great deal at the moment," Phlox answered, "I expect it's something he picked up as part of a landing party. Something that was missed in decon, and which has been incubating for some time now. It's very likely the cause of his aberrant behavior."
Jonathan forced himself not to smile. Phlox was, technically, telling the truth and nothing but the truth, yet without telling the whole truth. He had even left enough ambiguity that T'Pol might speculate Malcolm had picked it up on the previous planet rather than this one, which would render it distant from the spice in her mind. That was the ideal scenario.
"Is this illness what caused him to assault Commander Tucker and yourself?" T'Pol asked.
"Most probably," Phlox said.
He didn't have to lead T'Pol on. She was science officer enough to speculate on the threat level.
"Could it have spread to the rest of the crew?"
"It appears that it could be quite contagious, even in its early stages, before the symptoms were pronounced. Anyone he came in contact with prior to his incarceration could be infected."
"And they might have in turn infected others," Jonathan said.
"The whole crew could be infected," T'Pol realized, her usually unshakable Vulcan calm faltering.
She looked at Malcolm, who was sleeping fitfully, or at least pretending to.
Jonathan knew what was bothering her. If they all got fevers and grew as sick as this, they would be unable to efficiently farm the mushrooms or refine those into spice. It constituted a massive threat to the new mission the parasites had given them. Perhaps, if the parasites were actually somehow aware of the situation, they would realize that such a disease might prematurely kill their hosts, or render them inhospitable, preventing the parasites from continuing their species. Phlox said it was doubtful the parasites were so intelligent as all that, but Jonathan found it hard to believe there was no genuine intelligence at work, rewriting the people he knew into the equivalent of zombie ants.
"Will he survive?" T'Pol inquired.
"Possibly, with my intervention," Phlox replied.
"You have a cure?" T'Pol asked, surprised, "Already?"
"Not quite," Phlox said, "But I believe I can devise one. Of course, I'll need to give it to the entire crew once it's ready, to make sure none of them fall ill or remain carriers."
T'Pol stared at him, and Phlox gazed back steadily. Now was the moment for T'Pol to either accept the bait, or to recognize the trap and refuse to fall into it, even for her own good.
"I'll need you to work with Trip," Jonathan said, "Once Phlox has his cure ready. We need to make sure that everyone gets it as soon as possible… before anyone else gets hurt."
T'Pol didn't answer for a moment. Didn't move. But, finally, she blinked and broke eye contact with Phlox in order to look at Jonathan. He felt like she must be able to see right through him. Surely she could see all the pieces falling into place. She'd realize any second that her parasites were in grave danger, and that Phlox and Jonathan's every intention was to see that this mushroom farm (quite literally) never came to fruition.
"Understood," T'Pol said, turning back to Phlox, "Inform me when you are ready. Then I will begin scheduling the crew for inoculations."
She again looked at Malcolm, and it seemed to Jonathan that, just for a moment, he saw a glimmer of horror in her eyes. It wasn't the kind of look T'Pol would have under these circumstances. Jonathan was utterly convinced that it was them, staring out from behind her eyes, terrified of how near they had come to total destruction. They could see how sick Malcolm was. Could see exactly how that would stop their project in its tracks, especially if it had them turning on one another.
Phlox might doubt it, but Jonathan was convinced by the brief expression on T'Pol's face and in her eyes that these things were intelligent enough to recognize it when the death of their species, or at least their genetic line, was staring them in the face.
They saw. They understood. And they were afraid.
For a bare instant, Jonathan felt a twinge of guilt that his plan was to eradicate them. He hadn't come out here to kill anything, much less an intelligent species. He'd come here to explore, to meet new people, to learn about their culture, to discover more about the galaxy for the benefit of all.
But these things were without morals or mercy. They had come aboard his ship, infected his crew, put them off their mission entirely. Now the creatures were actively in the process of eating his crew alive, and would ultimately kill them; this after using them to infect someone else's crew.
If they really were intelligent, self-aware and thus conscious of what they were doing to other intelligent species, then they were also evil. That being the case, killing them was not only the correct thing to do in order to save his crew… it was justice.