Surak's Soul - J.M. Dillard [32]
Damn, Trip thought. He had not meant to hurt Malcolm’s feelings—but he also was in no mood to indulge thoughts of death. If Enterprise really was facing a crisis, then it was better that they all be a little angry than resigned or full of fear.
They made their way in silence all the way to sickbay.
Back in her lab, Hoshi did her best to ignore the constant march of people in the corridor, headed to and from sickbay. It wasn’t easy trying to blot out the image of Dr. Phlox lying unconscious on the diagnostic bed—it kept mixing with the image of Kano’s corpse, temporarily animated from within by the blue-green energy creature—but Hoshi finally forced herself to concentrate on the one image in front of her: that of Uroqa, making yet another entry in his log.
This time, the Oani’s expression was animated, hopeful, his large eyes wide. Hoshi listened carefully, able to understand the entry completely without having to listen to it twice.
A stranger has come to our world: a stranger who brings hope. He has come alone, from the planet[here Hoshi made a note in phonetic transcription of the planet name, which sounded like Shikeda], and he says that his people know of this illness. The other doctors are currently interviewing him, and it is our hope that we will soon find the answer to our woes.
Hoshi listened without pause, eager for the next entry. Were there other aliens in this area of the space who were familiar with this type of radiation illness—and did they perhaps know of a solution that, while it had come too late for the Oanis, might help the Enterprise crew?
The next image tore at her heart. As eager and excited as Uroqa had been, now he was completely overwhelmed with despair; the strong shoulders beneath the gauzy white tunic sagged beneath the weight of an intolerable burden.
For whoever comes after us, he said sadly, his once vibrant voice reduced almost to a whisper, a warning. The traveler from Shikeda says that the cause of our illness is indeed a microbe, unlike any other with which we are familiar. His own people have suffered and died from it.
“A microbe!” Hoshi actually stood up, her gaze still fixed on Uroqa’s image on the viewer. “No, no, he’s wrong! No wonder…”
She trailed off as Uroqa bowed his head in sorrow, then looked up steadily at the screen and continued. It is a life-form, as we are; the traveler confirms that it is capable of evolution, even as he offers us a cure. But we cannot kill it—which we would have to do if we are to survive. He paused. We must accept our fate. As a people we lived in peace; so it is we shall die in peace….
“No!” Hoshi shouted, unaware that she had raised her voice, not caring that she was arguing with the recorded image of a man who had been dead some days. “No, it isn’t fair. How can you let yourself die like that? How can you simply give up?”
The image of Uroqa faded, only to be replaced by his final entry, but Hoshi could bear no more. She froze the image, then rose and hurried to the companel.
“Sato to Captain Archer…”
No response from the captain’s quarters. Hoshi tried the bridge next.
“Archer here.”
“Captain, before the Oanis died someone from the planet Shikeda visited them and told them they died from a microbe too small for their instruments to detect. It was against the Oanis’ belief to kill any life-form—even one so tiny—so they let themselves die. But this traveler had a cure!”
She could hear the captain’s slow release of breath as he registered the information. After a brief pause, he said, “I’ll meet you down in sickbay. I think we need to have a little chat with Wanderer about this.”
At that same moment in sickbay, Trip Tucker stood flanked by Ensign Cutler and Malcolm Reed. The three of them, along with a former civilian medic who’d joined Starfleet and switched to maintenance, stood with their backs to a counter covered with medical supplies.
Trip was good at giving injections; he had a strong stomach for that sort of thing, and his hand was steady, so once he received his own antiradiation treatment,