CHAPTER 11
Enterprise was moving, not in the direction of Earth, but for Vega. No unexplainable things happened until Jon, to test the theory that something wanted them to go to Vega, ordered a random course alteration. Within five minutes of the course change, the shipboard temperature dropped by twenty degrees. Jon, not willing to risk a more serious calamity, ordered them back on course for Vega, and the temperature soon returned to its usual comfortable level.
Travis was of the opinion that, having successfully communicated exactly what it wanted -- to go to the colony -- the spirit of Robert Watson was content to let things be. As he told his fellow ghost hunters at dinner in the mess hall the evening before they were to arrive at Vega, the engine and life support outages had been the ghost's way of telling them they had misinterpreted where he had wanted to go. Once they reached Vega, Robert Watson would be home, and his spirit would finally be able to rest in peace.
"What about my toolbox?" Trip asked. "Moving it to his ship didn't tell us he wanted to go back to Vega."
"I think it did," Travis said. "Robert Watson was on his way to Vega when he died. He moved your toolbox to tell you that, if Enterprise wasn't going to take him there, you should keep working on his ship so he could do it himself."
Malcolm, seated across the table from Travis, snorted. "That's rather far-fetched. A ghost piloting a ship?"
Travis shrugged. "We'll never know because we're taking him back to Vega."
Malcolm still had trouble believing that a ghost had caused Enterprise's malfunctions. Technology couldn't definitively prove something was of a paranormal nature. It could only disprove something in that regard, such as when a sudden cold spot is found to be the result of a localized breakdown in the heating system. That didn't mean the incidents on board had been caused by a ghost. It could be something that couldn't be explained at their current level of technology. What if it was an alien entity they couldn't detect? Malcolm mentally scolded himself. He was becoming as bad as Travis, but instead of expecting to see a ghost around every corner, he was anticipating an unknown alien.
Next to Malcolm, Hoshi had been brooding throughout the meal. She hadn't taken part in the conversation. She pushed back from the table, her meal only half eaten, and said she was going to turn in early.
All three men watched her leave the mess hall.
"She still hasn't heard about her brother," Trip said.
"She was relieved to hear we were going back to Earth," Malcolm observed, "so this detour to Vega isn't helping any."
Doctor Phlox had been disappointed to miss out on the ghost-hunting activities, which he found all very intriguing. Many humans believed in an after-life, but apparently sometimes the departed got stuck and couldn't get there. There was nothing similar in Denobulan culture. If deceased Denobulans did come back as ghosts, he doubted anyone would notice. There were far too many vivacious, outgoing, noisy people crowding his planet to be able to be aware of something like ghosts.
In anticipation of their arrival at Vega in a few hours, Phlox was preparing Robert Watson's body for burial -- not that there was much to do. It was mostly a matter of moving the body from the morgue to sickbay, where he could properly place it in a coffin. After that, the coffin would be taken to the launch bay, where it would be loaded on a shuttlepod for the trip down to Vega.
He'd just sealed the coffin when the doors to sickbay slid open. One look at Hoshi's downcast expression as she entered was enough to tell him that she was depressed. "What brings you to sickbay, Hoshi?" he asked.
"I'm on my break from the bridge." She gave him a small smile, one that he recognized as a human attempt at masking a person's true feelings, before looking away.
Something was troubling her. That she had come to sickbay was an indication that she wanted to talk about whatever it was, even if she didn't realize that herself. He'd give her some time, and if she didn't volunteer more information, he'd ask. For the moment, he merely smiled sympathetically at her.
He saw her gaze come to rest on the coffin, only to slide away. He remembered that one of her brothers had been injured recently. Seeing the coffin probably only reinforced her worry. Her brother's injury was of a serious nature, if he recalled correctly.
"I couldn't stand it on the bridge any more," she said, breaking the silence. "I kept watching the indicator light for incoming messages that might be..."
"...about your brother," Phlox finished for her when she fell silent. "That's understandable. You look tired. Please, have a seat. Have you been sleeping well?"
Hoshi shook her head as she sat on one of the biobeds. "Between Hikori and..." She gestured toward the coffin. "I haven't had a decent night's sleep in a week."
"Let me get you a mild sleep aid. You can take it before you go to bed tonight, and it should help you get an uninterrupted eight hours' sleep." Phlox walked over to a cabinet, found the medication, and turned back to Hoshi. Even from several meters away, he noticed the change in her. Instead of being hunched with her shoulders drawn in, she was sitting straight up, her body stiff. She was staring at Robert Watson's coffin. "Hoshi?"
"If you've got a medical scanner handy, I suggest you use it," Hoshi said quietly, not taking her eyes from the coffin. "Something just touched me."
Phlox immediately took the med scanner he customarily carried with him from his pocket and turned it on as he approached her. "Where were you touched?" he asked.
"My hair."
Phlox held the scanner near Hoshi's head. "I'm not registering anything." He pushed a button on the scanner to change the type of scan, and tried again. "Still nothing." As he changed the setting one more time, he asked, "What did it feel like? A tap? A poke?"
Hoshi watched him anxiously as he began the third scan. "No, it was more like a caress. It reminded me of how my grandmother used to comfort me when I was little after I'd had done something like scrape my knee. She'd run her hand over the hair on my head once or twice as she'd soothe me." She flinched slightly. "It just happened again."
Phlox's gaze was riveted to the small screen on the scanner. "The scan I just took was in thermal imaging mode." He froze the image and turned the scanner so that she could see the screen. "There's you, and something else."
On the tiny screen, Hoshi recognized her shape as defined in shades of red, yellow, green, and blue denoting heat coming from her body. But there was also a spot of yellowish red near her head.
Phlox pulled back and scanned her again. "Hmmm. It's gone, whatever it was." He glanced around sickbay as he shut off the scanner. "I can call security, if you like."
"What?" Hoshi asked distractedly, then seemed to gather herself. "No, it's all right. I'm not scared. In fact, it was rather comforting." She smiled. "I haven't thought of my grandmother in a long time."
"If you're sure...?"
"I'm sure." Hoshi hopped off the biobed with a little laugh. "It's funny. I feel a lot better now. Thanks." She headed for the exit, her brisk gait a contrast to her dragging steps when she'd walked in.
Phlox looked around sickbay after the doors slid shut behind Hoshi. She obviously had been in need of solace when she'd come to see him. He'd been more than happy to try to help, but apparently someone -- or something -- had done so before he could.
He pursed his lips and activated the medical scanner again in thermal imaging mode. A few minutes later, he shut off the scanner. As he'd told Hoshi, whatever it was was no longer in evidence. Still, he had the original thermal scan of something that was shaped suspiciously like a hand next to Hoshi's head. Maybe he could get a paper out of this.
T'Pol privately thought her crewmates were a little unbalanced, but that was normal for humans. Their undisciplined mental processes could easily be tricked or misled. Their current preoccupation with ghosts was a good example. The Vulcan Science Directorate had no official position on ghosts. Unlike time travel, which the VSD had determined was not possible, it hadn't even considered the possibility of ghosts because, as every Vulcan knew, there was no such thing.
She could not deny, however, that strange things had been occurring on Enterprise. Like her crewmates, she had no logical explanation. That the strange incidents had ceased once a course for Vega had been set was curious, if only for its coincidental nature. More disturbing was that a number of the incidents could have caused harm to Enterprise and its crew. Perhaps, as the captain believed, a thorough maintenance inspection would uncover the true cause.
She left her science station to inform the captain of their arrival at Vega. She found him in his ready room, studying maps of the colony that he had pulled from the ship's database.
"The colony wasn't that big. I think I've found the only cemetery they had," Jon told her as he downloaded the map of the only large settlement onto a data padd. "Is everything ready?"
"Shuttlepod One is ready for departure as soon as we are in orbit. I assume that you will preside at some type of ceremony at the cemetery?"
Jon nodded as he got to his feet. "Something brief but respectful. Then I have to figure out what to tell Robert Watson's relatives back on Earth. Somehow I don't think they'll buy that his ghost made us take his body back to Vega."
"Neither will Starfleet, although logically and aesthetically, it is appropriate to lay him to rest with his immediate family on Vega."
Jon paused on his way to the door to look at her. "It almost sounds like you've changed your mind about ghosts being real."
"I have not," T'Pol said firmly.
"You know," Jon said, "this whole situation has given me a lot to think about. For one thing, you said there are no ghosts on Vulcan, but I think you're wrong."
One human questioning a belief of her entire species was hardly worth rebutting. Besides, he might be teasing her, something he did on occasion. She had learned that the best thing to do in such a situation was either to ask for clarification or to not respond at all. She decided on the latter in this instance, but her lack of a response had no effect.
"You're forgetting one thing," Jon said, his hand poised over the control panel to the door. "I had Surak's katra in my head. His physical body is long gone, but his spirit was alive and well."
"That is not the same thing," T'Pol said.
"Isn't it?" he asked as he opened the door. "Seems to me that both Surak and Robert Watson had something in common. They didn't finish what they wanted to accomplish, and they both communicated that."
T'Pol again had no reply as she followed Jon out of the ready room. The captain had said that he'd had a lot to think about. Now she did as well.
Jon's gaze was caught by the view of Vega on the main screen as he stepped onto the bridge. It was an Earth-like planet, with two large green and brown continents nestled in the shimmering blue of oceans. A scattering of white clouds dotted the atmosphere. He could understand why this planet had been chosen by humans as a place to establish a colony.
His appreciation of the sight didn't last long. He wasn't sure he wanted this diversion to Vega to end their mysterious malfunctions. Despite teasing T'Pol on the subject, he had a hard time believing they had a ghost on board. If, after the return of Robert Watson's body to Vega, they had no more unexplained malfunctions, it could still be chalked up to coincidence. What was worse, he wondered -- believing something unknown had forced them to come here, or acting on that supposition if it was in error? There was also the matter of his report to Starfleet. He'd have to be careful how he worded it, or he could end up permanently assigned to a desk job -- or a padded cell.
He couldn't dispute the feeling that what they were doing was right. A man should be laid to rest with his family. Robert Watson had tried so desperately to return to his home that it could be construed as his final wish. Jon had already decided that he would emphasize that point in his report to Starfleet.
"T'Pol, you have the bridge," he said. "Travis, Malcolm, and Hoshi, let's go." The two men immediately got to their feet, turning over their stations to relief crewmen. The communications officer, however, remained at her post. "Hoshi?"
She looked up from her console as if her mind had been a million miles away. "Sir?"
"Are you were coming with us?"
He saw her hesitate, her gaze flicking to the section of her console that would signal an incoming transmission. He knew she'd been maintaining a watch; she'd even pulled double shifts as she waited for Starfleet to send news of her brother. He wouldn't be surprised if she didn't want to be part of the funeral detail. Then, with a barely audible sigh, she got to her feet, motioning to a crewman to take over her station.
No one said much as Travis piloted the shuttlepod to the surface. Jon and Malcolm were at the auxiliary control panels immediately behind him, and Hoshi and Trip were seated on one of the bench seats behind them. The coffin was resting on the other. At the very back, two MACOs sat on small jump seats.
Travis did a slow flyover of the abandoned settlement. It reminded him of one of the Old West towns in films he'd seen on movie nights, except these buildings were pre-fab instead of handmade from wood planks. But the same dusty, desolate air hung over the place, despite the profusion of vegetation.
Following the captain's directions, Travis set the 'pod down at the cemetery. The small area was surrounded by what had once been a white picket fence. Now, its paint all but peeled away, sections had fallen down in the tall grass. As he shut down the engine, he glanced out the front window and could see several tombstones standing in wobbly formation on the other side of what was left of the fence. The whole place couldn't be much bigger than the mess hall, he estimated, but then, there couldn't be many people buried in the cemetery. The colony hadn't been here very long before the remaining residents had packed up and gone back to Earth.
Trip opened the hatch. Warm air immediately swirled into the 'pod. At a word from Jon, Malcolm and the two MACOs stepped out. Within a minute, Malcolm returned, having found the graves of Robert Watson's wife and child. The four men gathered around the coffin, hefted it up, and carried it out of the shuttlepod, Hoshi trailing behind. The small procession made its way to a single gravestone in the shade of a towering tree, where the MACOs were already digging a rectangular hole.
Travis noticed that Hoshi was becoming increasingly restless as the grave digging progressed. He sidled over to her. "Is something wrong?"
"I'm not sure," she said. "I feel like I'm forgetting something."
"Did you leave something back on the ship?" Travis asked.
"No." She looked over her shoulder at the shuttlepod where it was parked outside the cemetery grounds. She shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe being in a cemetery is getting to me."
Travis glanced around. He wasn't getting any bad vibes. The cemetery, in daylight at least, appeared to be a pleasant, restful place.
The MACOs made short work of digging the grave. When they were finished, they stepped back, put down their shovels, and stood a respectful distance away. Jon, Trip, Malcolm and Travis once again took up the coffin, using ropes to lower it into the grave. Then Jon took a small book from one of his pockets, opened it to a marked page, and began to read.
Although Travis was standing at attention, his mind wandered. He'd lived almost his entire life in space. The Boomer cargo ships like the one he'd grown up on were small communities where the loss of even one life was keenly felt. But the death of the man they were burying seemed particularly tragic. He'd died alone, unable to be with his family at a time when they'd needed him. The sound of a soft impact jerked his attention back. The captain had thrown a handful of dirt on the coffin lid. One after the other, the officers followed suit.
As they stepped away from the grave to allow the MACOs to fill it, Jon turned to his officers. "It will be a few minutes before we can leave. Why don't we take a look around?"
Trip and Malcolm readily agreed, and the three senior officers moved off toward the town. Travis was about to join them when he realized Hoshi was staying behind, watching the grave being filled in.
"Are you sure you're all right, Hoshi?" he asked after the others were out of earshot.
Hoshi was staring morosely at the grave. "Yes, but I have this feeling..." She suddenly turned and walked to the shuttlepod.
Both curious and concerned, Travis followed. Hoshi entered the shuttlepod and sat down at one of the auxiliary consoles, so Travis took the seat opposite. He watched as she opened a channel to Enterprise. Maybe she was going to have someone check on whatever it was she thought she forgot.
"Enterprise," came the voice of T'Pol from the comm system's speaker.
Travis saw Hoshi bite her lip. He half expected her to cut the channel without saying anything. But she swallowed and said, "This is Ensign Sato."
When Hoshi fell silent, T'Pol asked, "Is there a problem, Ensign?"
"Ah, no. I...I just wanted to make sure that my replacement at communications isn't having any difficulty."
Travis recognized an obvious lie when he heard one, and so apparently could T'Pol. "Ensign Meeker is well-qualified on this equipment. He has had no difficulty that I can discern. Your concern is unnecessary."
"Ah, well, thanks," Hoshi stuttered.
Before Hoshi could sign off, however, T'Pol spoke again. "A message from Starfleet has arrived since the shuttlepod departed. It concerns your brother."
Suddenly tense, Hoshi said, "Yes?"
"Your brother is doing well and is expected to make a full recovery."
Hoshi let out a long exhalation and sagged in the chair.
"Ensign?" came T'Pol's voice.
Hoshi roused herself. "Thanks, Commander."
"That's good news," Travis said after Hoshi closed the channel.
"Yes, it is," she agreed. "And the strange thing is that I feel like that's what I came back to the shuttlepod for. It's like something was compelling me to contact Enterprise."
"Robert Watson's spirit?" Travis suggested.
Hoshi laughed. "A few days ago, I would have thought you were crazy if you'd said that."
Travis leaned forward in the chair. "But it is possible, don't you think?"
"That you're crazy?" Hoshi asked with another laugh.
Seeing her so happy let Travis know just how upset she'd been the last few days, and he hadn't realized how much he had missed her normally upbeat, cheery nature until now. It was good to see her in better spirits. He grinned at his unspoken pun. "No, that it was Robert Watson who was urging you to come back to the shuttlepod so you could get that message."
"I'll be the first to admit that there are a lot of things out here that we don't understand. It looked like Robert Watson that night in the corridor. I'm sure of that. But whether it was really a ghost or not, I don't know." She shrugged. "Whatever it was, it seemed to go out of its way to comfort me. I have to appreciate that."
Travis glanced towards the hatch. He could hear the others returning from their exploration of the abandoned settlement; evidently very little remained to look at. "I hope what we did today meets with Robert Watson's approval."
Hoshi gave him a smile. "How could it not?" She rose to her feet and headed for the hatch.
As they stepped out of the shuttlepod, Jon called to them. "We're about ready to leave, but Trip thought of one more detail that needs to be taken care of."
The group returned to the cemetery, where the MACOs, having finished filling in the grave, were now gathering up the ropes. Trip pulled a small cutting tool from a pocket and knelt on the ground before the tombstone. With precise movements, he etched the name of Robert Watson next to that of his wife and child on the hard rock surface. When he finished, he ran his fingers over the letters, pocketed the tool, and got to his feet. To Jon he said, "Now we can leave, sir."
Travis trailed behind as they returned to the shuttlepod. At the entrance to the cemetery, he looked back. A ray of sunlight came through the leaves of the tree sheltering the grave and, for a moment, it highlighted the name that, a minute ago, hadn't been there.
A chill ran up Travis' spine, and as he turned back to catch up with the others, he heard a sound like a heartfelt sigh whispering through the branches of the tree.
EPILOGUEEnterprise returned to Earth. Not a single, inexplicable incident occurred on the voyage. A thorough maintenance inspection in space dock turned up no cause for the malfunctions.
Most of the crew were able to take shore leave during the layover at Earth. Travis went with Hoshi to visit her brother, who had been released from the hospital and was recuperating at home. To Travis' surprise, he found he much in common with Hikori, such as their tendency to be injured while participating in sports.
Trip stayed on board to oversee the maintenance work. But he and Malcolm also managed to finish up the renovations to the Wayfarer's Rest. By the time Enterprise was ready to depart on its next mission, Robert Watson's little ship had been moved to the spaceflight museum at Starfleet and given a place of honor. It still rests there today.
THE END