Thank you to all my readers.

§4§

"Yes, sensors can now read their biosigns; they are… immobile."

Of course T'Pol would not give any interpretation of that – Trip mused; but his own heart, despite his inborn optimism, felt heavier at the news.

"And I confirm that the Lieutenant is not answering hails," she concluded.

"Understood. Archer out."

The Captain's face was a rigid mask on which frustration and concern fought for prominence. Trip bit his lip, knowing there wasn't much he could offer him in the way of reassurances.

"I'm sorry, Capt'n," he repeated for the second time, as he went on closely inspecting the first partition – a job that seemed totally futile. "I'll keep tryin', but I fear there's nothin' I can do. These things are designed to be pretty well impregnable. They'd probably withstand even explosives."

"I wouldn't suggest we try that, Sirs," Chang butted in. "Now that the other two corridors are blocked as well, we'd have no cover."

Minutes after Malcolm had paged them to say that they were going to find another doctor so they wouldn't have to wait up to five hours to rejoin, two other emergency walls had dropped, leaving them prisoners – so to speak – of the entrance hall. Relief had reverted to worry. Something was definitely up, and there was nothing worse than not knowing exactly what, and being helpless to do anything about it.

Archer pursed his lips and resumed his silent pacing. Trip followed him for a moment; then shook his head and turned back to his hopeless endeavour.

His heart was doing something strange. Every few thumps it would miss a beat; then pound loudly back into rhythm. As he slowly came to, Malcolm couldn't dwell on it, though, because his last memory was returning with disturbing vividness, drawing all of his attention and tightening a knot in his gut.

He wondered with some trepidation whether he could move at all; his last sensation, before unconsciousness had claimed him, had been of losing control of his body. To his relief, he managed to roll on his side, but the action sent a wave of pain down his left arm, making him suck in a quick breath.

"Doctor…" he exhaled while the pain began to pulse. He forced his eyelids to cooperate, and the mental image of Trenton holding a weapon was replaced by that – no less disquieting – of Phlox lying face up beside him.

With an effort, Malcolm pushed himself to a sitting position. Damn it, he'd been had – he cursed inwardly as he blinked a few times to try and feel more awake. Left arm dangling limply against his body, he dragged himself closer to Phlox. A dart like the one that was still in his shoulder was embedded in the Doctor's thigh. With a right hand that wasn't very steady, he pulled it out; then he did the same with the one in his left shoulder, sending another wave of pain travelling down his arm. Taking a few deep breaths, he reached under the Denobulan's jaw – provided that was how one checked if a person of his species was still alive. Failure had always been his biggest fear, and now, as he felt for a pulse he couldn't find, it loomed dangerously close.

Just as he was about to succumb to despair, the Doctor groaned and stirred. The rush of relief that spread in an instant from his mad heart to the farthest reaches of his body made his sight cloud again for a brief moment.

"Phlox…"

Had he ever called him by his name before? Malcolm gave the Denobulan a light shake. He supposed in a case like this he could take a few liberties. Phlox groaned and stirred some more; and finally blinked his eyes open.

"Are you all right?" Now that was a smart question. "I mean… are you with me?"

Blinking some more, Phlox turned confused eyes on him.

"Lieutenant Reed?"

"Yes, the one and only." Idiot – Malcolm added darkly in his mind. Legs in a loose oval, he leaned forward and rubbed two fingers on his eyes to try and clear his vision. Damn it! Never mind his vision… He should contact the Captain. He reached sluggishly for his left-arm pocket but Phlox's voice, coming a lot stronger and steadier than his own, stopped him in mid-action.

"I'm afraid he took both your communicator and phase pistol."

"Brilliant."

Malcolm's shoulders slumped again. He was feeling pretty rotten. Good thing his stomach was not full.

"Hm. I still have my tricorder, though," Phlox said, somewhat in surprise.

The man sounded as if he had just woken up from a short nap. Malcolm turned to the well-known buzzing sound which signalled that the medical scanner had been switched on. The Doctor was sitting up now, taking readings of him.

"Nasty mix of drugs, he must have used," Phlox muttered after a moment. "But obviously he wasn't expecting a Denobulan." And since Malcolm was looking back numbly, he expounded, "My physiology is less affected by certain drugs that, on the other hand, produce rather severe effects on Humans."

"Lucky you," Malcolm commented in a strained voice, cradling his left arm. Phlox leaned over to take more readings.

"Yes," he said knowingly after a moment. "He made up quite a nasty concoction. You are suffering from a slight arrhythmia," he went on, blue eyes lifting from the scanner. "You should avoid any severe exertions, at least for a few hours, Lieutenant."

He touched Malcolm's shoulder, sending the umpteenth wave of pain travelling down his arm. Malcolm let out a hiss. Shaking his head to clear it of the remaining cobwebs, he tried to put a few straight thoughts together. "What… why…" he wondered, with a frown.

"I thought something was strange about Doctor Trenton," Phlox commented, getting the gist of it. "Now I am sorry I didn't mention it to you. Can you make a fist?" he went on to ask, with a seamless change of focus. His hand moved to Malcolm's left hand.

Malcolm complied. His fingers felt stiff, and moving them caused pain to ripple back up to the base of his neck. "Strange?" he prompted, grimacing. Talking might take his mind off the sharp needles that were running his arm through; but just then Phlox decided to start massaging his sore limb, and he found himself scrunching his eyes shut and biting his lip, stoically clamping down on the groan that threatened to escape his throat.

"Your arm will be sore for a little while; but it's only a temporary irritation, and I prefer to save the few medicines we have brought along, in case we should have a more serious need for them later."

Malcolm grunted an agreement. At least the situation seemed to have melted the ice between them.

"The Doctor Trenton I remembered was different from the man we have met today," the Doctor went on, with another swift change of subject. "It's difficult to pinpoint exactly what… Well, I suppose the man I met five years ago had a much more outgoing and cheerful personality," he continued, ignoring Malcolm's efforts to endure the pain. "And of course his hair was brown, and his voice was not hoarse," he concluded as an afterthought.

"But he is the same man – physically, I mean," Malcolm forced out, cracking his eyes open.

"Oh, definitely."

Phlox stopped his ministrations and studied his patient's face. "How are you feeling?"

Malcolm looked back dumbly for a moment; then let his head fall back. "Do I have to reply?" But knowing the answer to that, he croaked out, "My shoulder and arm hurt, I'm light-headed, and my heart is still doing crazy things."

"You should lie down and rest," Phlox said. "There is nothing…"

When his voice died away, Malcolm looked up again.

"Doctor Sahak," Phlox suddenly exclaimed, jerking his head to a corner of the room.

A lot more nimbly than Malcolm would have credited him to be able to move, the Denobulan jumped to his feet and hurried off. Malcolm grabbed the edge of a chair and pulled himself to a standing position. Things started to swim around him, so he stood still for a moment, waiting for the world to stop. It didn't; but an outraged exclamation from Phlox convinced him to let go of his support, and he stumbled to the corner of the room where, upon entering, he had seen a man sitting.

Trenton had said that they were going to find Doctor Sahak; so the hapless person bound to this chair must be him. The man was slumped forward, which from a distance and in the dim light had given Malcolm the impression that he'd been bent over some work. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing with difficulty. Perspiration covered his brow, above cheeks that were flushed a bright red. His dark hair was damp and matted to his head.

Phlox stood frozen about a metre and a half from him, wide blue eyes taking in every detail. The Denobulan's stillness sent a shiver down Malcolm's spine.

Without taking his eyes off the captive, Phlox reached for his medical scanner. "You should stay away, Mister Reed," he warned darkly.

Malcolm swallowed. Give him any enemy, even one that was taller, or stronger, or better armed: as long as he could see him and fight, he knew he stood a chance. But the kind of enemy that they may be facing here… the enemy that – as the Doctor had said – you could not shoot at… That kind of enemy he feared the most.

He had made a promise, though.

"We're in this together, Doctor," he said, steadying his wobbling self. "Whatever you have to face, I will too."

Phlox turned to give him a very serious look. "It is illogical and unnecessary to both get exposed to whatever sickness ails Doctor Sahak, Lieutenant. And you're not well; I thought I'd told you to-"

"Phlox."

The first name produced the wanted effect, cutting the Doctor off. Malcolm put his good hand to the wall for support and straightened, putting on the best 'Lieutenant Reed's gaze' that he could manage under the circumstances. "I'm not going to leave you, to go off and sleep in a corner." Lifting an eyebrow he added, "Besides, if Doctor Sahak's ailment is contagious, I suppose standing a few metres away will not make much of a difference."

"Phlox?"

Another, much feebler voice made them turn back to the man still tied to his chair. Dark eyes, bright with fever, were taking in the Denobulan as they would a sudden apparition.

"Jason," Phlox said in earnest.

"Is it really you?" Sahak wondered hesitantly. But then, seeing the Denobulan starting to move, he choked out in warning, "Don't touch me!"

Phlox froze again. "I want to untie you," he said gently. "And check what is wrong with you."

"I know what is wrong with me," the other Doctor replied, in between laboured breaths. "Keep away from me."

TBC

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