Last Full Measure - Michael A. Martin [11]
Leaning forward, T’Pol lowered her voice and said, “Fine. What are the emotions you’re facing? Or would you rather discuss it in private?”
Tucker opened his mouth to speak, but a loud crash behind T’Pol interrupted him. T’Pol turned to see Ensign Kranz standing nearby, his tray of food scattered across the deck. Kranz was vibrating, his hands and body rigid as if in the throes of a seizure.
“Call Doctor Phlox,” T’Pol said to Tucker, even as she began to rise from her chair.
Then she saw that Tucker was vibrating as well, his teeth chattering and his hands moving spasmodically on the tabletop. Before she could react, he, too had knocked his food onto the deck.
In an instant, as she surveyed the crew mess, she saw that everyone in the room, nearly a dozen crew members in all, appeared to be in a state of full seizure.
Everyone except for her.
“What are we looking at here, Doctor?” Archer asked.
Phlox looked up from his scanning instruments, the data scrolling on them fresh in his mind. “It’s clearly a central nervous system disorder of some kind, Captain, though the precise neurochemical mechanism has eluded me so far.”
Archer frowned. “So you can’t even tell whether or not it’s some sort of disease?”
“At the moment all I can tell you is that it’s a highly unusual pathology. Only one of the affected crew members is prone to seizures, and he is on medication for the condition. Moreover, the effect seems only to have caused problems for the humans who were either inside the crew mess hall, or within about a seven-meter radius of the room.” He gestured toward T’Pol. “Our Vulcan officer was not affected at all.”
Archer turned to face Reed, who was standing nearby, his countenance taut with anxiety. “Malcolm, do you think this was caused by some kind of Delphic Expanse spatial anomaly?”
“If it was, Captain, it came and went very quickly,” Reed said, holding up a padd that displayed the results of his after-the-fact scans of the crew mess. “It was almost like a wave that passed through that section of the ship. We’re still taking readings from the crew mess now, but they’ve all been fairly inconclusive so far. Until we know more, I’ve ordered the affected sections quarantined, which amounts to most of the starboard side of E deck.”
Archer sighed. “E deck starboard. Talk about hitting a man right where he lives.”
Literally, Phlox thought. The captain’s quarters and personal mess were both located just down the corridor from the crew mess, along E deck’s starboard rim.
Phlox could see that Reed understood Archer’s meaning completely. “We checked your quarters as well, sir. Porthos is just fine.”
Archer looked greatly relieved to hear that his beloved beagle was safe, though he also seemed to be doing his best not to let his feelings show. Phlox took great comfort in the fact that the man in charge of the ship possessed such powerful, yet controlled, emotions.
“I suppose that’s more evidence that whatever hit us only affects humans,” the captain said.
Reed nodded. “I agree. And I’d feel better if you bunked elsewhere for a while. At least until my people can confirm that E deck is completely safe.”
Archer favored his tactical officer with a bitter smile. “We’re in the Delphic Expanse, Malcolm. According to Ambassador Soval, this place turned the bodies of a Vulcan crew completely inside out. So ‘completely safe’ probably isn’t an option for us as long as we’re here.”
Before Reed could reply, Archer gestured toward Trip and Hoshi, both of whom lay unconscious in sickbay beds, as did several other crew members. “So, meantime I’ve lost my chief engineer, my communications officer, and fourteen other members of my crew.” He turned to Phlox. “Are the effects of this thing reversible?”
Phlox nodded. “I believe so, Captain. I’m keeping them all sedated for the moment for