Surak's Soul - J.M. Dillard [52]
“Well, as you know, all living things—well, most living things, especially humanoids—emit an electromagnetic charge. Subtle, very subtle…almost undetectable. But I’ve been thinking about some of the readings that I found on the Oanis, and there was a slight disturbance in their electrolytes. That could be caused by a number of things, but it would definitely affect their electrical system, if you will.”
“Electrical system,” Trip repeated. This was news to him; he hadn’t gone beyond first year zoology in college, and had managed to avoid anatomy altogether because of his engineering major. Phlox’s claim sounded pretty ridiculous.
“For example, the heartbeat,” Phlox said. “Its rhythm is regulated by chemicals in the body that produce an electrical effect. In past centuries, humans actually used electricity to restore a heartbeat, or to correct an arrhythmic pulse.”
“Really?” Reed was fascinated. “But certainly humans don’t emit much electricity—”
“Hardly at all,” Phlox said. “It’s very faint; our medical scanners would have to be recalibrated to the utmost sensitivity in order to detect it. But it is there. And since Wanderer, according to what I’ve overheard from your and Commander Tucker’s discussion, is partially composed of electromagnetic pulses, I couldn’t help wondering whether there was a connection.”
“So Wanderer feeds off the electromagnetic field generated by humanoid bodies…” Trip mused, thinking.
“It’s just a possibility,” Phlox said. “I could be completely wrong.”
Trip didn’t answer him; instead, he reached out for the scanner in Reed’s hands. “Let me see that a minute.” He fiddled with the controls, head down, then checked a reading. “Okay. I’m picking up a very faint electromagnetic field.”
“It could be us,” Reed offered. “Or all these people standing around.”
“Hold on,” Trip said. He shouldered his way past a few people until he stood directly next to the engines.
The reading rose very slightly. Trip’s mood began to lighten.
“Anything?” Reed’s tone was eager.
“Maybe,” Trip said, his intonation rising on the last syllable. “Let’s try a little experiment.” He elbowed his way through the crowd until he found the doors to engineering; drawing in an anticipatory breath, he stepped through them.
On the other side of the doors, officers, seated on the deck, leaning against the bulkheads, lined the corridor. They looked up eagerly as Trip moved past.
“Time to swap?” one of them asked.
“Nope,” Trip murmured, his gaze fixed on the readout. “Just a little experiment.” And as the electromagnetic levels began to fall significantly the further he moved from engineering, the wider his smile became.
He wheeled about on one heel and went back, still grinning, into engineering.
Phlox and Reed were waiting for him, their expressions expectant, hopeful.
“We may just be on to something here,” Trip said.
Captain.
Captain Archer, can you hear me?
Archer woke facedown, one cheek pressed to the unyielding, cold metal deck. His entire body, including his head, ached tremendously as though it had been slammed against the bulkhead repeatedly—at which point, he remembered his encounter with Wanderer and realized that he might very well have been slammed against a bulkhead.
He tried to roll to one side…and yelled aloud at the searing agony in his left shoulder, which felt as though it had been pulled from its socket.
“Captain.” T’Pol’s ever-steady, soothing tone penetrated Archer’s pain and disorientation. He lay motionless on his side, unwilling to move lest it aggravate his shoulder, and gazed sidewise up at the Vulcan, who crouched over him, her expression reassuringly neutral. “Allow me to assist you in rising. Your shoulder appears to be dislocated.”
“Fine,” Archer gasped. “I’m not going anywhere without help.” He held perfectly still as the Vulcan leaned over him—so close that he felt the more-than-human warmth emanating from her body, and smelled a subtle fragrance similar to evergreen and citrus. Slender but surprisingly strong