ISS Enterprise NX-01 (under construction)
Orbital Dry Dock Facility 2149
There was still work left to do. There were hanging cables, exposed and sparking wires. Years of work. And yet, something had changed today with the reactor installation. It has as if the engine's dark heart had thundered to life. Charles imagined that he could feel the delta-radiation subtly heating the air.
"Well, here I am, Elizabeth," he muttered. "Chief Engineer of a goddamn starship." He closed his eyes against the cavernous expanse of the quietly thrumming room, and saw the chain of events stretching out behind him. A chain that started with his sister's murder, in a hovel, in a toxic swamp, and ended... here. "Of course, this delta-radiation shit is gonna kill me one day!"
"Oh, I don't know about that," a voice answered; not Elizabeth, but a different kind of ghost altogether. The name on the crew roster which had, inexplicably, shaken him more than any other.
Major Malcom Reed.
"I don't know about that," the Major repeated, taking two, three, four steps towards Charles. "Plenty of other things that might kill you first."
Charles smiled uneasily. "Well, here's hoping?"
Reed did not reply.
"Bit of a coincidence, us both ending up here..." Charles said to fill the silence. He should ask Reed to leave. Demand he leave. He was chief engineer and this was the engine room.
But somehow he couldn't.
Somehow the very words dried on his tongue.
"Scarcely a coincidence," Reed replied flatly. "The cabal of admirals made Forrest captain, which, inevitably, made Archer first officer, which placed me here too. And Admiral Black's office recommended you personally."
Charles flinched at the mention of that particular rumour. "People keep saying that. Don't make it true. I've never even met Black to remember him."
Reed smiled grimly. "Oh, you haven't figured that one out yet? You are a late-bloomer, aren't you? You should pay more attention to the Vulcans."
Charles nodded without understanding.
Reed stepped closer. Five steps, six, seven. "Well, you may not have ever met Black, but you and Forrest certainly go back a'ways. Old friends perhaps, because, as I understand it, you share all sorts of information with him."
This, Charles realised, with rapidly growing dread, he DID understand.
And Reed was moving closer. Eight steps. Nine.
"Look," Charles said. "I'm sorry about that... I shouldn't have repeated what... I should have been more discrete."
Reed cocked his head slightly. "I do wonder what I ever did to earn such animosity from you."
"Nothing," Charles replied uneasily, listening hard in the faint hope he might hear someone friendly around. "Look, it was an accident. I have no problem with you. It seems to me that you were decent to T'Pol, in your way..."
Reed frowned. "In my way?"
Charles continued hurriedly, and gripped the tool he was holding - an unfortunately light tool - more tightly. "It... look... it just came out. I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't want anything to happen. Forrest was just sort of glaring at me, making fun of me and T'Pol, and... you don't understand, okay? You can't. I need these people more than you do. You have money. You have a home and a family to fall back on. All that stands between me and disaster is the good-will of these people, and..."
"Disaster?" Reed interrupted softly. "What sort of disaster?"
"I've got nothing else, Reed... Malcolm... just, try to put yourself in my place, okay? I was a whore before, in Florida, and without these people, without this career, that's the only choice really open to me. And I can't do it, okay? I can't go back to that. To that place. To that life."
Reed nodded slowly. "Yes... I think I do understand, Charles - may I call you Charles? I mean, its not that uncommon, is it? You see plenty of low-born, but attractive, women parlay their virtue into a military career. Trying to build a better life for themselves, in the few years before that attractiveness fades. It's to be admired, really, that sort of forward-thinking. Now, you don't see quite as many men trying it, but, here YOU are, striking a blow for gender equality! Jolly-good show, old man, what what!"
Ten steps, Eleven steps.
Charles wondered if he shouted for help, if anyone would come.
"... and now, tragically, Charles, now that you have made it, you still fear falling back into a life of prostitution. But, it's all far simpler than you think. See, you just need the proper incentive. If you can't go back to earning a living a whore with the help of your good-looks, then you'll HAVE to make this life work. Because, you'll have no other choice. And, luckily for you, Charles, I'm here to help."
Charles did swing the tool then, with some force, and aimed it well, but unfortunately the blow was arrested when Reed activated a concealed cattle-prod right against Charles's chest.
Charles fell to the floor, gasping for air. The muscles of his ribs and diaphragm refused to coordinate themselves enough for him to take a breath. Even as the world began to swim around him, he felt Reed pick him up, as if he weighted no more than one of Elizabeth's dolls, and press the slide of his face against the metal casing of the reactor. For a second, it felt cold, then hot, then he heard himself screaming.
At the very edge of his consciousness, Charles saw Reed lean in close and theatrically inhale the smell of burning flesh, and he heard a voice - Archer's- calling out.
"Reed. For fuck's sake, put him down. We have bigger fish to fry."
Then Reed laughed.
