McCoy worked most of the morning, then turned Sickbay over to Chapel. He went to his quarters, splashed his face and grabbed another strong coffee, then headed for T'Phol's cabin. Cassady was on duty again. He and T'Phol were sitting in the alcove, both working on tablets. T'Phol heard his approach first, looking up from her work. She stood, greeting him with her slight smile he had come to recognize, but her eyes were a little guarded. She looked at him rather closely, but if she saw the sleepless night reflected in his features, she made no comment.

"Hello, Doctor. You are here early."

"Yeah." He sat with his coffee in hand. "What have you been doing? Stayin' occupied?"

"Indeed," T'Phol said drily, not missing his reference. She held out the PADD for him to see. "I am designing the stage lighting and recording device placement for the concert. Mister Scott will fabricate and assemble the stage elements and move the piano. What day did you have in mind for the performance?"

"Ya know, I think we should ask Jim. Do you have a preference? Do you need time to practice or something?"

"No. I typically meditate just before performing."

"I am free for the rest of the day. Would you like a tour of the ship? I know Scotty is anxious to show off Engineering." He looked further down the corridor to the guest quarters. "How are Kelan and Vartheb getting along?" he asked Cassady.

Cassady shrugged. "I have only talked to them via the comm unit," he said. I inquired as to their comfort and was told everything is acceptable. Which is fine with me."

"They haven't been out at all?" McCoy's eyes narrowed as he looked down the corridor. He got up, setting his coffee on the desk. "I'm probably gonna be sorry, but I think I'm going to say hello. This is very odd." He walked to the first room, which was Vartheb's, and rang the chime. After two times, the Andorian answered. McCoy smelled some sort of incense drifting into the corridor and coughed. "Good afternoon, Vartheb."

"Yes? Vartheb said in his almost whisper. "Good afternoon, McCoy, isn't it?"

"That's right. I was wondering if you need anything." He coughed again, his eyes began watering. "It seems you haven't been out. Would you like to tour the Enterprise this afternoon?" He coughed again more forcefully.

Vartheb glanced up the hall, then shook his head. More smoke wafted from the doorway. McCoy wondered when the corridor alarm would activate. "Do you have a fire in there?" He peered past Vartheb into the room, which was hazy and dimly lit with blue. He felt a tear leak from his eye, and suppressed another hack. He tried to hold his breath.

"It is ceremonial defkato from our planet. It is not on fire. It is quite safe. We use it as an aid to meditation. Engineering has disabled the particle alarm in my quarters temporarily." He looked gravely at the doctor, whose face was beginning to turn red as he coughed several times.

Cassady took a tentative step toward McCoy. "Are you all right, Doc?" McCoy waved him back.

"Vartheb, this is a problem, this smoke. I have to get out," he gasped between coughing and trying not to breathe deeply. Another tear dripped down his face. "Please close the door and keep it closed."

Vartheb nodded and the door slid closed. McCoy expelled the breath he had been trying to hold and coughed his way back up the corridor. Cassady met him at the end of the corridor, but McCoy shook off his offer of assistance. He sputtered and hacked another minute and wiped his eyes. When he regained his voice, he pointed to Cassady's tablet. "I don't know what the hell that stuff is, but I want this event documented, and while you're at it, verify with engineering that the alarm was deactivated by them. I need to find out what we're dealing with here and if it is harmful other than being a Human mucosal and respiratory irritant. At any rate, don't go near it." He was racked with another set of breathless coughing.

"Oh no, Sir, I won't," Cassady said. "Are you OK, Doc? Should I call a med team?"

"No, I'll go get checked in a few minutes," McCoy gasped, catching his breath a little. The more important thing is to make sure no one else gets exposed. Obviously Vartheb is gonna have to meditate some other way. Kelan, too, if he's been partaking. First thing I need to know is what we're dealing with. Cass, get a hazmat team here and a decontamination unit."

He punched the intercom button. "McCoy to bridge."

"Kirk here," came the immediate response.

"Jim, we have a situation. Can you meet me in the guest alcove?" He paused to cough some more.

"On my way."

McCoy turned to T'Phol. "You need to clear the area. If you will go to your quarters, I will come by when we get this cleared up."

"All right. Please take caution."

A moment later Kirk barreled out of the turbolift. "What's going on, Bones? What happened?"

"It seems at least one of our Andorian guests is having a little party," McCoy said, punctuated by a few wheezing coughs, "and we don't want to be invited." He proceeded to fill the captain in. Kirk's countenance darkened as he listened.

"Here is the incident report, sir," Cassady said, handing his tablet to Kirk. "Engineering confirms that the particle detector was disabled at Vartheb's request, but the flame detector is still operational."

Kirk's eyes flashed, but he made no comment. "Is Kelan also smoking this stuff?"

"Engineering reported that he did not request an alarm adjustment."

Scott and another crewman exited the turbolift. Scott was carrying a sensor device and they both were wearing respirators. Scott was taking readings on the way. He waved it all around them, pausing on McCoy, then looked at Kirk.

"I can give ye the chemical formula for what it's worth, the substance has traces of phosgene, several kinds of organic matter, very alkaline. CS and CN. The concentration is less than one thousandth ppm at the lift, it's about zero zero three ppm here, except Dr. McCoy tops at about point zero zero seven ppm." He ran the scanner over McCoy again. "Aye, seven." He looked at McCoy and added, "You probably got some in yer clothes and hair. Scott walked down the hall, taking readings along the way. He took a while at both doors then made his way back. He pulled off the mask, which McCoy was privately grateful to see.

"Well, it is worse outside the first room. Over zero forty at the deck plate. About a two in the air mid hall. Trace at the other end. That's about what I'd expect to see from a heavier than air particulate diffusion."

Kirk turned to McCoy. "How much danger are we in at those concentrations? Is it safe to access the situation from here?"

"I'd say yes, unless he opens the door. CS and CN are eye irritants, the phosgene is mostly respiratory. The organic compounds are probably the binder. It must be more like tear gas than a toxic agent. Just a few whiffs is irritating, breathing it in higher concentration or for a long period of time could be injurious."

"Disable the door circuitry, in case Vartheb decides to come out. When that's done, we'll call him on the comm unit." Kirk turned to the other crewman. "Can we safely isolate this agent during the air exchange?"

"Yes, sir."

"How soon before you'll be ready?"

"We can have it set up in thirty minutes, Captain. It would be quicker, but in an occupied room we cannot evacuate the entire cubic air content at once."

Two more crew arrived carrying the portable decontamination unit. McCoy waved them over. "I'm your subject." They quickly set up the tent and field isolator around him and the machine hummed into life. The process took a few minutes. When it was finished Scotty ran the sensor over him. "Good job, you're clear." Then he turned to bark an order at the team who had quickly assembled. The hatchway was open above the corridor and several people were busy above his head.

Kirk was on the intercom with Vartheb and it did not appear to be going well. McCoy leaned in to hear the Andorian's soft whispering voice.

"But, Captain, I can assure you that defkato is harmless. I have not used it outside of my room..."

"Perhaps it is harmless to you, but it poses a real danger to my mostly Human crew. This matter is not up for debate, Vartheb. Please extinguish any of the substance and prepare for a total air exchange. You will hear some sounds and brisk air flow, and when we are done we will send a unit to verify that it's safe. You may be required to undergo a decontamination process yourself. After the area is cleared, we may discuss possible alternative solutions. Kirk out." He punched the button with some force.

McCoy looked down the corridor at Kelan's cabin. "Don't you find it odd that Kelan hasn't even cracked the door to see what is going on? Someone needs to check on him." He stifled another cough or two.

"This is getting on my nerves," Kirk said. He looked closer at McCoy's face, noting the doctor was very pale apart from his flushed cheeks and red rimmed eyes that seemed bluer than normal. "Bones, I think you should get to Sickbay and get checked out. Scotty and the team can handle it from here."

"With his permission, I'd like to examine Vartheb when the decon is finished."

"I'll be sure to mention it," Kirk said drily. "Now go, Captain's orders."

To his surprise, McCoy did not argue. "Keep me informed, Jim," McCoy said, and walked away down the corridor toward T'Phol's room. He knocked softly on the door, She appeared almost immediately.

"Are you all right?" T'Phol looked at him hard.

"I think so. I'm on the way to Sickbay for a quick check. And I want to look up that defkato in the medical files. They're going to decontaminate Vartheb's room, which might take some time. Scotty will be tied up here for a while. After all this, it might be a good idea to put off the grand tour until later."

"Certainly. May I accompany you?"

"To Sickbay?" McCoy was a little surprised. Then he realized he would be glad for her company. "Sure, if you want."

They headed down the corridor and boarded the turbolift.

Nurse Chapel was still there when they entered. McCoy put extra warmth in his greeting to make up for his earlier behavior, relayed what had happened, and introduced T'Phol. McCoy went into his office to his own computer terminal. He spelled the word wrong so it took him a couple of tries to find the correct information. He frowned as he read, then terminated the connection with a little more force than necessary.

He stalked back into the reception area and pulled Chapel to the side.

"Damned stuff is an Andorian hallucinogen used as a CNS stimulant. Its stimulant effect on Human physiology has not been fully demonstrated." He uttered an expletive, punctuated by more coughing. "Defkato is also a skin and mucous membrane irritant to iron based hemoglobin, which is the effect I am experiencing. There are a few documented cases of ARDS, response to inhaled bronchodilators and various steroidal concoctions is usually good."

Chapel frowned. "What is the onset time frame?"

"Within twenty-four hours. I don't think I inhaled that much, but just to be on the safe side I'm going to carry a dose of epi and wear a monitor."

"I'll get them right away," Chapel said.

T'Phol moved closer. "What is ards? Is it dangerous?"

"I forgot about your Vulcan hearing again, T'Phol. Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome. It can be dangerous. It depends on the causative agent, whether it's something like a toxic gas, an allergen, or asphyxia agent, or a damned Andorian psychedelic incense, the amount inhaled or absorbed, and how much damage is done to the lung mucosa. Sometimes the onset of symptoms is immediate, sometimes it takes a while for the reaction to start."

"Do you think you have been damaged?"

McCoy shrugged. "I don't think so. I'm just taking precautions. You never know how an alien drug will react with Human physiology." His eyes crinkled with a smile. "You gotta admit it's made the afternoon exciting."

"Indeed." T'Phol's expression was unreadable.

Chapel returned with a small hypo and the monitor, which looked like a flat wristwatch. McCoy checked the dosage on the hypo and slipped it in his pocket. She fastened the monitor around his wrist and activated it.

"A syringe?" T'Phol asked.

"The hypo is filled with epinephrine, a bronchodilator," Chapel said. "That will help him breath until we can get real support to him, should it be necessary. The monitor is linked to our biomed system. It will track his vital signs and alert us if something is abnormal." She shot a look at McCoy, then back at T'Phol. "If you see him begin having difficulty breathing, you take that hypo and jab him in the neck with it. It will discharge a measured dose by itself. If that doesn't help, do it a second time. The monitor will let us know where he is."

"Nurse, stop talking about me like I'm not here. No one is gonna be jabbing me because I really don't think I inhaled enough to cause that kind of reaction."

"So, Doctor McCoy," boomed M'Benga's voice from the doorway, "what have you gotten into now?" He stepped into the room, nodding to Chapel, dark eyes settling on T'Phol for an instant before he moved to McCoy. He ran a scanner over McCoy's chest and back.

McCoy glared. "Who called you, Geoff?"

"The Captain. He's still busy with the decontamination, but he wanted to be sure you made it to Sickbay." He palmed the scanner. "Aside from your lungs, there's quite a bit of irritation in your eyes. Did you get some drops to go with your epinephrine?" He moved to the medicine cabinet and selected a bottle.

"Look up," M'Benga ordered and administered a drop to each eye. "Here, take the bottle. Use them again if you need them." He looked speculatively at McCoy. "Is your throat sore? I think you would be better off staying here where we can monitor you."

McCoy shook his arm and pointed to his wrist. "I am monitored."

"That's not the same, and you know it."

"It will have to do."

"You are a stubborn man," M'Benga said, crossing his arms. "Compromise? I'll make you a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"Let me put you on the biobed for a thorough scan and blood panel." He glanced at T'Phol. "Then promise you won't stay by yourself for a few hours."

McCoy scowled.

"Come on, Doctor McCoy," M'Benga said quietly. "Work with me here. You know I'm right."

McCoy capitulated. "Fine. Let's get it over with."

"Thank you. Nurse, would you prepare for a full panel? After you," he said to McCoy, sweeping his arm toward the treatment room. McCoy looked at T'Phol.

"I will wait," she told him quickly. McCoy turned and followed Chapel. T'Phol waited for McCoy to leave, then looked at M'Benga. He met her eyes evenly.

"Hello, Miss Grayson. I am pleased to see you're looking well."

T'Phol inclined her head slightly. "Doctor M'Benga. I did not know you were aboard the Enterprise."

"I was assigned here three years ago."

T'Phol broke eye contact first. He moved a step toward her. "I hope you have not harbored hard feelings from our last meeting," he said mildly.

'It is not logical to hold a grudge, Doctor M'Benga."

"Perhaps. Occasionally we do things that are not logical, wouldn't you agree?"

"Perhaps."

Chapel stuck her head around the corner. "We're ready, Doctor."

M'Benga studied her a minute more. She finally looked up. "Logical or not, your patient is waiting."

"Yes," he said. "I would appreciate a chance to talk with you later."

T'Phol made no reply. He turned on his heel and walked quickly to the treatment room.


McCoy lay quietly as M'Benga ran his tests. He was a little drowsy, the emotionally charged, sleepless night and then the events of the afternoon were catching up. M'Benga kept a running commentary of his findings and test results. McCoy, no longer a first year med student, listened to the important parts. M'Benga was a teacher, he thought idly. He closed his eyes.

"You do have quite a bit of throat irritation. You might not be talking much later. I'm administering a corticosteroid for the pneunomitis. It's not significant now. Let's keep it that way. And I want you to take a breathing treatment before I let you go." He turned to Chapel. "Christine, you can go now. I'll get the nebulizer and get that started." He got the tubing and mask hooked up and slipped it on McCoy's face. The mist started flowing. M'Benga pulled a stool next to the bed and sat, watching McCoy's slow and steady breathing for a minute of two. Then he leaned in closer, speaking quietly.

"Leonard, did you know you've lost four pounds since your last exam?"

McCoy opened an eye. "No," he said from behind the mask.

"In old style measurements, at five feet ten, slight frame, you should weigh between one forty-five and one sixty, give or take a pound or two either way. You're below one thirty-four now. I think that's a little too thin. You have actually lost a little since the xenopolycythemia."

McCoy closed his eye, giving a little shrug. "I'm naturally skinny."

"Yes. You also skip meals and drink too much coffee, and a portion of your calories are empty nutritionally." M'Benga told himself to stop, but somehow the rest of his sentence came out of his mouth anyway. "Jim Beam is not a substitute for a meal."

To his surprise, McCoy did not react at all. The treatment emptied and he sat up, pulling the mask from his face. M'Benga took it wordlessly, laying it aside. The two men looked at each other a little warily.

"I've kept my part of the bargain," McCoy said. "Are we done?"

"Almost," M'Benga answered. "With the reminder that I want you to have company with you this evening. Rest. Consider yourself off duty for tomorrow. We will continue the monitor through the night, but I am in agreement that I don't expect an episode. And," he added pointedly, "please eat something. In addition, we need to check on the pneumonitis every day for a few days. You don't need that to progress to ARDS or bronchiolitis obliterans while we weren't watching." He helped McCoy step down from the biobed.

"Yeah, OK." McCoy started to step away, but M'Benga laid a hand on his arm. McCoy shook his head. "Not now, Geoff. Please don't make me argue with you, I'm almost drained."

M'Benga stepped back and let him go without further comment, following him through the door. T'Phol was waiting. M'Benga addressed her. "Miss Grayson, would you like the unenviable position of keeping an eye on him for a while? I'd feel better knowing someone was nearby and making him rest and behave."

"Yes. Assuming Doctor McCoy is agreeable to the notion," T'Phol said.

"What, you don't trust me?"

"No," said M'Benga and Chapel together. Chapel smiled ruefully.

"OK, I give up," McCoy said. "Come on, T'Phol. Seems you're stuck with me."