CHAPTER 9
Travis was waiting in the launch bay when the others arrived at 2200 hours that evening. His life-long interest in the paranormal was finally being put to practical use, and, by unspoken assent, he had assumed the role of leader.
He had two scanners. One he handed to Trip with the admonition to keep it operating on "record" at all times to pick up visual or aural phenomena their own senses might not detect. Travis and Hoshi would use the other scanner for the same purpose. They would review the recordings later. "We should stay in pairs," Travis suggested. "That way, no one person will see or hear something without there being a corroborating witness."
"Good idea," Hoshi murmured. "I'm getting tired of being picked on while I'm alone."
Travis was mildly surprised that Hoshi had shown up. Malcolm had taken him aside in the mess hall at dinner and had told him that she'd received word that one of her brothers had been seriously injured in an accident back on Earth. She had to be worried about him. But, from what Malcolm had told him, Hoshi had also had another experience with the ghost of Robert Watson after finding out about her brother's accident. Travis theorized that Hoshi's agitated state had provided the catalyst for that incident. Whatever the reason, Hoshi seemed to attract the ghost, and Travis intended to be with her the next time there was a manifestation.
The possibility of encountering a real ghost was enough to send an undeniable thrill through Travis. He had to remind himself to remain calm. If he was going to be in charge, he had to act like it. He needed to look at things logically. As much as he'd like to believe ghosts existed, he knew they'd have to follow scientific procedures to prove they had an uninvited guest on board.
"Hoshi and I will be one team," Travis said with a reassuring smile for his partner. He turned to Trip and Malcolm. "You two will be outside the Wayfarer's Rest taking readings with the scanner Malcolm modified to pick up EM fluctuations. Hoshi and I will be in the ship, trying to provoke the ghost."
"Provoke?" Malcolm asked sharply. "That doesn't sound like a wise thing to do."
"'Provoke' simply means to get a reaction," Travis said. "We'll talk out loud, asking Robert Watson to show himself, or give us a sign that he's here. If that doesn't work, we'll be a little more forceful in asking. It's like goading someone to get them to do what you want." Trip and Malcolm traded a skeptical glance, and Travis hurried on. "Anyway, we'll trade places after an hour. Hoshi and I will come out in the launch bay, and you two will go inside."
"Doesn't sound very complicated," Trip commented.
Travis nodded. "That's true. But you have to have patience. We've already done all the preliminaries. We've checked that there's no other reason for the things that have happened, like the lights going out on us. The power cable and the connection were fine, remember? And Malcolm's scans didn't show any other life forms on the ship."
"What do we do if we get an EM reading?" Trip asked.
"You talk to whatever is making the EM reading fluctuate, even if you don't see anything. EM readings are just a way to prove that something that's not supposed to be here is here. That's what we're looking for, right? Some kind of proof that there's a ghost on board. Once we do that, then we'll figure out what to do about it. Now, all we have to do is shut down all the mechanical and electrical things. Then we'll turn off the lights in the bay and wait."
As Travis walked over to a work table to get the hand torches he'd put there, Malcolm held up his hand. "Wait a minute. We can't shut down life support in here."
"Oh, I don't know, Malcolm," Trip said, scratching his chin. "We could probably shut it down for a couple hours with no detrimental effect. The launch bay's big enough that we don't have to worry about our air supply. Might get a little chilly by the time we're done, though."
"Shutting down life support would eliminate a big source of electromagnetic fields," Travis pointed out.
Malcolm reluctantly agreed, but only after insisting that the grav plating remain on. The group went about shutting down equipment and lights. Then, as Trip and Malcolm began a slow walk around the bay proper by the light of their hand torches, Travis and Hoshi boarded the Wayfarer's Rest. Travis headed straight for the cockpit.
"Couldn't we stay in the engine compartment?" Hoshi asked. "Or the living quarters where we could be more comfortable?"
"We could," Travis said, "but several things happened in the cockpit. It's the best place to start."
They clambered into the cockpit, Hoshi glancing around at the fittings. Her hand brushed against the pilot's chair, and Travis saw her recoil. No doubt she'd read T'Pol's report, just as he had. The chair was where the body of Robert Watson had been found.
"Have a seat, Travis," Hoshi said.
Travis didn't particularly care to sit in the chair, either. "Being a gentleman, I'll offer the only seat to you," he said.
"No thanks," Hoshi responded dryly. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather sit on the floor."
They both wound up sitting on the deck. Travis found it difficult to find a comfortable position in the cramped area, and he finally sat with his long legs stretched out under the instrument panel. Hoshi sat crossed-legged on the floor opposite him on the other side of the pilot's chair.
Travis activated the recording scanner as he leaned back against the bulkhead. He hoped the ghost of Robert Watson made an appearance for two reasons. One, it would be fantastic to have an honest-to-goodness real story to tell, one based on his own experiences. And two, if nothing happened, he'd feel like he had let his fellow officers down. That would be worse than any scuttlebutt about how this ghost-hunting expedition, under his direction, had been an utter failure.
"Let's get started, shall we?" he said. He took a deep breath to calm himself and then lifted his head to address the air. "Robert Watson...if you are here, could you give us a sign?"
"This has got to be one of the silliest things I've ever done," Trip said as he trailed Malcolm around the dark launch bay.
Malcolm, his attention on the EM-calibrated scanner in his hand, nodded in agreement. "I can't think of a better way to track down an alleged ghost, though. Can you?"
Trip shrugged. "You really think there's a ghost on Enterprise?"
It was Malcolm's turn to shrug. "I'm not sure what it is, but there's something here. Whether it's a ghost has yet to be determined."
"Spoken like a true security officer," Trip said with a soft chuckle.
They walked the entire perimeter of the launch bay twice, pausing now and then for Malcolm to check the EM readings. The second time they arrived at the base of the ladder leading up to the control room, Malcolm glanced inquiringly at Trip.
"May as well," Trip said, indicating the ladder. "We haven't picked up anything down here."
Malcolm, one hand holding the scanner and the other grasping the rail, climbed the ladder. At the top, he stepped aside to make room for Trip, who was right behind him.
"Anything?" Trip asked. He peered out into the launch bay, the light of his hand-held torch barely making a dent in the gloom.
Malcolm checked the EM-modified scanner and shook his head. "Nothing so far. This is the best place to wait for a time. If anything happens, we'll have a good view of the entire launch bay from here."
Trip grunted in agreement and sat down, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the elevated platform. A moment later, Malcolm sat down next to him.
Some time later, Trip muttered, "Guess I can always watch the movie later on my own, if I want."
Malcolm smiled in the darkness. They'd given up movie night in favor of ghost hunting. But he wasn't nearly as restless as Trip. Malcolm had a more pragmatic view of their endeavor. His instincts were telling him that something was on Enterprise that shouldn't be here, and like any security officer worth his salt, he was compelled to find out what it was and whether it was a threat to the ship. If part of that process involved waiting for it to show itself, he could wait as long as it took.
Travis and Hoshi had been sitting in the darkened cockpit for more than thirty minutes, the silence punctuated every so often by Travis asking the spirit of Robert Watson to show them a sign he was present. So far, nothing had happened except Travis' left leg went to sleep. With a groan, he got to his feet and stood, waiting for the sensation of pins and needles to go away. A heavy sigh came from the other side of the pilot's chair.
"Still awake?" he asked Hoshi.
"Barely," came her reply.
The circulation to his leg restored, Travis did a few deep knee bends and sat down again. "Malcolm told me about your brother. I'm sorry."
Another sigh came from Hoshi's direction. "I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I can't do anything to help him. The captain said he'd contact Starfleet and have them find out more information. Worrying about Hikori won't do any good."
Although her words made sense, she sounded upset. Travis remembered when his father had been sick. He'd gotten news of the illness and had gone for weeks hoping his father would get better, only to find out later that his father had died some time earlier. The sense of loss he'd felt had almost been overwhelmed by his guilt. Somehow, it hadn't seemed right that he'd carried on with his life as usual without knowing his father was gone.
A change in subject might help take both their minds off such morose thoughts. "So, I hear you were in the observation lounge when Robert Watson paid you a visit."
"Yes," Hoshi said. "It was bizarre and yet -- well, comforting in a way."
At Travis' urging, Hoshi told him about the incident, starting with receiving her mother's letter with the bad news about her brother and ending with her feeling three distinct pats on her shoulder when she'd been alone in the observation lounge.
"What were you thinking about at the time?" he asked curiously.
After a few moments, Hoshi said, "I was wishing I was home with my family."
So much for changing the subject, Travis thought. He knew that Hoshi, despite being a Starfleet officer who was away from Earth for long periods, maintained close ties with her family. It was only natural that she wanted to go home.
Travis sucked in his breath as he realized why Hoshi seemed to have been singled out by their ghostly visitor. "Don't you see?" he asked. "You have something in common with Robert Watson. He wanted to go home and be with his family, and so do you."
"What's that?" Trip asked, shining his hand torch in the direction of the Wayfarer's Rest where it sat on the main launch bay deck below them.
"I don't see anything," Malcolm replied.
Trip got to his feet, keeping the beam of his torch aimed at the small craft. Next to him, Malcolm also stood and peered down over the rail. He couldn't see anything unusual in the light of Trip's torch, which was directed at the upper hull of the Wayfarer's Rest's cockpit.
"There!" Trip said, swinging the torch so that the light moved a meter to the left.
Malcolm's breath caught as he saw movement. Whatever it was reminded him of the fog that would occasionally roll in to blanket London. It had that same ethereal quality. But even with life support not operating, there was no reason for fog to be in the launch bay. In a flash, he was down the ladder and on the main deck next to the Wayfarer's Rest. He held the modified scanner up toward the slowly undulating form.
"Travis was right," Malcolm murmured as Trip came up next to him. "The EM reading just jumped off the scale. It's giving off some type of energy."
Trip kept his torch trained on the apparition. The insubstantial whatever-it-was remained in position. He cleared his throat and asked, "Are you Robert Watson?"
The shadowy mist slowly faded down into the hull of the Wayfarer's Rest.
Hoshi caught a glimpse of light outside the front viewing window of the cockpit. Trip and Malcolm must be moving around the launch bay. She hoped they were having better luck than she and Travis were. They hadn't heard or seen anything, and sitting around in the dark had only given her more time to think about how worried she was about Hikori.
Her thoughts were still inward when a gasp came from Travis. They'd turned off their hand torches after settling in, and she could just make out his silhouette across the cockpit. "Travis?"
"Up there. By the window," he whispered.
Hoshi turned her head and blinked. The window showed up as slightly lighter than the interior of the cockpit, and she could see something moving there. It didn't really have a shape. It was more like a cloud or a vapor of some sort, an amorphous floating thing blurred around the edges. As she stared at it, she realized she could see through it. Hoshi also realized that she wasn't excited, or even scared -- she was too emotionally drained by the news of her brother.
"Robert Watson, I presume?" she asked.
There was no response from the floating cloud.
Travis spoke up loudly. "If that is you, Robert Watson, what do you want?"
There was no indication that whatever it was had heard him.
"Is there a reason you are here?" Travis asked.
Again there was no response.
"I'm sorry about your family," Hoshi said tentatively, wondering where the idea to say that had come from.
The sound of rapid footsteps came from the living compartment, and Hoshi turned her head in that direction. She could see beams of light waving wildly. Trip and Malcolm must have boarded the Wayfarer's Rest, but surely it wasn't time for the teams to switch places.
"It's gone!" Travis said.
Hoshi looked back towards the window. The floating mist was no longer there.
"Travis, Hoshi," called Malcolm from just outside the hatch. The tactical officer poked his head into the cockpit, the light from his torch momentarily blinding the junior officers. "Are you all right?"
"We're fine," Hoshi said as she climbed to her feet, switching on her hand torch. Across the narrow confines of the cockpit, Travis did the same.
Malcolm was studying the interior of the small compartment closely. "We saw something outside--"
"You saw it too?" Travis broke in. "It was outside before it showed up in here?"
Before Malcolm could answer, the main lights in the launch bay came on, followed by the sound of the ventilation system kicking in.
Trip, standing in the living area because there wasn't enough room in the cockpit for him, called out, "Life support just came back on." He led the way back out to the launch bay.
"Do you think it was the ghost of Robert Watson?" Travis asked Hoshi as they hurried through the living quarters and into the engine compartment.
Hoshi was about to reply when she reached the exit and stepped out after Malcolm and Trip. She swallowed what she'd been about to say when she saw who was waiting for them in the launch bay. She almost wished it were the ghost of Robert Watson.
Instead, standing with her hands clasped behind her back, staring disapprovingly at them as one might at misbehaving children, was T'Pol.
Jon wasn't happy. He'd been woken from a sound sleep by T'Pol with a report that life support and other systems had been shut off in the launch bay. He'd ordered her to check into it and get back to him. When she'd comm'd him fifteen minutes later to tell him four of his senior officers were the culprits and she had insisted that they report to him in person, he became even more aggravated. He'd had just enough time to pull on a pair of sweatpants over his skivvies and splash some water on his face before they'd arrived at his cabin.
Now, after being told an outlandish tale about a ghost, he glared at his officers standing in a line at attention in his quarters. They all looked wide awake, not to mention anxious, as well they should be; they were responsible for him being out of sorts. Obviously, their duties weren't enough to keep them occupied if they were up to some kind of shenanigans in the launch bay at this time of night.
He glanced at T'Pol standing behind them like a strict teacher who'd brought her charges to the principal for discipline. He could understand why she hadn't wanted to tell him what they'd been doing. Ghost hunting, indeed. If it weren't for the fact that he resented his sleep being interrupted, he might have found the situation funny.
"So you took it upon yourselves to shut down life support to a section of the ship, without informing the bridge," he said with more than a trace of irritation. The four officers kept their gazes straight ahead, so Jon paced over to stand in front of Trip, the ranking officer of the group. "Well?"
Trip swallowed. "As chief engineer, I didn't think turning off life support and the other systems for a few hours would cause a problem. And we kind of wanted to keep what we were doin' quiet. Until we had proof. Sir."
Jon exhaled heavily through his nose. "Proof there's a ghost on board."
"Yeah." Trip paused to shoot a glance at Travis. "The ship's systems generate EM fields, and we wanted to eliminate all possible sources of it so that if we did get a reading, which apparently is typical of ghosts, we'd be sure it wasn't something else causing it."
Jon rubbed a hand over his face as he turned away. He thought he'd grasped what Trip had just said, convoluted though it was. "Did you?"
"Did I what, sir?" Trip asked with a frown.
"Get proof there's a ghost!"
"Sort of," Trip hedged. "All four of us saw something. We haven't gone over the recordings yet, and T'Pol's showing up sort of--" He paused to clear his throat. "--scared it off."
"Begging the commander's pardon," Travis spoke up. "We did see something, and we recorded a jump in the EM field. That's typical of a paranormal event."
Jon stared at his ace pilot as alarm overrode his irritation. "So there is something on board Enterprise." Then the irritation came rushing back. "Why wasn't I informed?"
"That's my doing, I'm afraid, sir," Malcolm said. "Until this evening, I wasn't absolutely sure there was something to report. Hoshi was the only one who had seen it, or some form of it, before tonight. And I'm still not sure it's a threat. I didn't want to bother you until we knew for sure."
Jon glared one last time at his officers before he sat down in a chair. "I want to hear everything -- from the beginning."