Less than an hour later, Archer found himself heading towards sickbay. He had debriefed T'Pol, who had immediately ordered a full internal scan of the ship to locate their ghostly intruder. Hoshi had retrieved the damaged tricorders from the ship and was attempting to recover any information that might assist in working out what had happened on the planet's surface. Archer had ordered Travis Mayweather to hold their position for now; he was not willing to leave the system until he knew exactly what was going on.
The doors to sickbay swished open and Archer felt the difference as soon as he stepped inside; the air was distinctly warmer than usual. He glanced around and his gaze met Trip's; then engineer was sitting beside a bio-bed. He began to rise, but Archer waved him back into his seat, glancing at the figure lying on the bed. Reed was entirely motionless, his face stark white and his lips blue under the harsh lighting. He had been covered with two thick blankets, and a small device was attached to his left temple.
"How's the hand?" Archer asked, quietly, keeping his voice low.
"Fine," Trip replied, a little distantly, "the doc sorted it as soon as he got Malcolm stable..."
"How's he doing?"
Trip shook his head, his face taut with worry; "The doc's not saying much, so I guess it's pretty bad. It's hotter than a Florida summer in here but he still feels like a block of ice... Jon, what the hell was that thing, and why's it so interested in Malcolm?"
"I wish I knew," Archer replied, in a heartfelt way, "Hoshi's trying to recover as much information as she can from our tricorders, maybe she can translate some of the writing on the stones we found and give us a better clue as to what that... creature... actually is."
A slight noise made him glance up; Dr. Phlox emerged from his office, consulting a PADD. The doctor glanced up, but did not even seem able to raise his customary smile. Archer had never seen the Denobulan look so grim.
"Captain," Phlox greeted him, "I'm sorry I have been unable to report thus far... the truth is I am somewhat confused by Lieutenant Reed's current condition. Commander Tucker has told me that he was attacked by an incorporeal entity?"
"That's right," Archer nodded, "though we don't know yet it if it was attacking, or just attempting to communicate..."
Trip snorted; "The thing damn near killed him, Jon. Three times. I'd call that an attack."
"The captain is right, commander," Phlox replied, firmly, "it is unwise to ascribe a motive until one can thoroughly understand the creature in question."
"How's Malcolm doing?" Archer asked, quickly changing the subject before Trip could argue.
"My immediate concern is to raise his body temperature," Phlox replied, "as you can tell, I've raised the air temperature and I am keeping him as warm as possible, but his body is not responding as it should. I cannot explain it – nor can I explain the neurological trauma. He appears to have suffered a massive system shock; I have never seen anything like it. I have been consulting my database. The only similar case I can find was suffered by a crewmember on a long-range Vulcan exploratory expedition several years ago."
"What happened?" Archer asked, curiously.
"The Vulcans made contact with a telepathic species, the Betazoids, who are just emerging as a warp-capable species," Phlox explained, consulting his pad, "the Betazoids communicate amongst themselves exclusively through telepathy; as you can imagine, such a species is incredibly open and completely lacking in secrecy. I understand that most Betazoids even forego wearing clothes save in the presence of non-telepaths."
"Makes sense, I suppose," Trip commented.
Archer flashed him a surprised look, and Trip shrugged, explaining; "Well, if everyone around you can read your deepest thoughts, what's the point in trying to hide anything?"
Archer had to admit, it made sense.
"So what happened to the Vulcan? These people sound friendly enough."
"Indeed," Phlox nodded, "I have never met a Betazoid personally, but I understand they are a peaceful, loving and deeply sensitive people. When they encountered the first Vulcan, the three Betazoids present automatically attempted their usual telepathic communication; the unfortunate Vulcan crewmember suffered extensive neurological damage as a result. Vulcans are much more reserved and mentally disciplined than Betazoids; the attempt at a friendly greeting resulted in serious injury. The Betazoids were horrified and rendered all assistance they could. Fortunately, the Vulcan made a full recovery... unfortunately for us, the therapy used was telepathic in nature, and we do not have any telepaths on board."
"So you think Malcolm was subject to a telepathic attack?" Trip asked, in disbelief.
"Or a greeting, commander," Phlox reminded him, "there is no way to tell. But, yes, I do believe that whatever attempted to communicate with Lt. Reed did so telepathically, and this has caused the lieutenant a great deal of pain and trauma."
"So why keep targeting him? Why not try to communicate with myself or Trip?" Archer asked, puzzled, "The creature must have known it wasn't getting through..."
"I cannot explain that, Captain," Phlox replied, as he checked the readouts above the biobed, "all I can tell you is that Lt. Reed is in a critical condition. I am doing all I can, but only time will tell."
"He said it was in his head," Trip commented, doubtfully, casting a concerned glance at the prone armoury officer, "he said he could feel it... maybe it really was trying to communicate with him..."
"It might not have known it was hurting him," Archer said, trying to sound reassuring, "it may have been as confused as we are; we are as alien to it as it is to us."
"A wise comment, captain," Phlox agreed, as he made an adjustment to the device attached to Reed's temple, "I am keeping Lt. Reed in an induced coma for now in an attempt to reduce the shock to his system as he recovers."
"Will we be able to speak to him any time soon? I need to know if that creature was able to communicate with him," Archer said, "if that thing is on board it could pose a risk to every single member of this crew."
"I would not recommend it, captain," Phlox was shaking his head, "it would only cause the lieutenant further pain and distress."
"If there is anything he can tell us about this creature's intentions, I really need to hear it, doc," Archer insisted, firmly, "I don't want to do this anymore than you do, but if it is possible for me to speak to him, even if it's only for a few minutes, I do need to."
"I understand your concerns, captain, but my immediate priority is the health and safety of Lt. Reed. I simply cannot allow it."
"And I appreciate that," Archer responded, tersely, "but if that thing is on board it may attack other crewmembers and you're going to have a lot more patients on your hands, doctor. I need to speak to Lt. Reed to see if the creature was able to communicate with him. He may know something that can help us."
Phlox hesitated, glancing at Reed and then back at the Captain, shaking his head slightly.
"Very well, captain... but not immediately. The trauma is still too severe; it would be extremely dangerous to bring Lt. Reed back to consciousness at this stage. I'd like to give it a few hours..."
"Four hours," Archer conceded, "while Hoshi works on the tricorder logs and we conduct a thorough search of the ship for the intruder."
"Cap'n," Trip spoke up, "with your permission, I'd like to stay here... if that thing is on board and if it comes after Malcolm again..."
"Fine," Archer conceded, "you're off-duty for the next rota in any case. Grab a phaser, though – I want security on high alert and armed, just in case this creature is dangerous. I'll post a couple of guards outside as well."
Phlox nodded, wordlessly, still clearly less than happy with the situation, but turned his attention back to his patient. Archer sighed, and then nodded to Trip; "I'll be on the bridge."