The Expanse - J.M. Dillard [16]
“Numbness in your extremities?” Fer’at queried.
“I feel fine,” Archer said.
Fer’at was silent for a moment as he checked his scanner’s readout, then continued working. “I was told you think a piece of the wreckage came from the future.”
Archer glared at him with frank annoyance. “I know. Vulcans don’t believe in time travel.”
“Some of us do,” Fer’at replied simply.
That threw the Captain for a loop; he blinked, disbelieving.
“Tell me,” Fer’at continued, with sudden interest, “this ‘time traveler’ you met, was he humanoid?”
“How do you know about that?”
Fer’at gave a small shrug. “I was briefed before coming here.”
“He seemed humanoid,” Archer answered, intrigued that a Vulcan might actually be convinced of the truth. “I couldn’t see him that well.”
“Have you encountered people from the future before?”
“A number of times,” Archer said. He paused; there was something suspicious about Fer’at and his curiosity, about his whole story. And he had never known a Vulcan so eager to make small talk. “Does this have anything to do with the radiation?”
“I’m just curious,” Fer’at countered mildly. He stepped behind the Captain and began to scan his back. “It must be difficult to have so many people question your story. Does it upset you?”
“It doesn’t help.” Archer’s tone was cold.
“But how does it make you feel?”
That was it—Archer had had it with Fer’at and his examination. From between gritted teeth, he replied, not at all nicely, “I told you, it doesn’t help.” From his peripheral vision, he could see Phlox stop working and gaze piercingly at the Vulcan; obviously, the doctor was also becoming suspicious. Archer watched as Phlox began to tap some controls.
Fer’at blinked his large, slightly protruding eyes. “I can sense some anger when you talk about this ...”
Sense? What was there to “sense” when Archer was purposely letting it show? His words clipped, the Captain replied, “It’s kind of strange that a Vulcan would be so interested in my ‘feelings.’ ”
“Just curious.” Fer’at echoed his previous statement. He continued to scan, then consulted the readout for a moment before stating, “Your exposure seems minimal ... You’ll require very little treatment.” He directed his probing stare back to Archer. “I imagine you must have felt very anxious after meeting someone from the future.”
Archer’s tone was blatantly sarcastic. “Why would you imagine that?”
He was on the verge of rising from the bed and ordering the Vulcan out when Phlox intervened. The Denobulan’s voice was filled with outrage; Archer was taken aback by the normally placid doctor’s anger.
“I’m afraid this ‘examination’ is over.”
“I’m nearly finished,” Fer’at replied calmly.
“You are finished,” Phlox said unequivocally. He turned to Archer. “I just checked the Vulcan database. There’s only one Doctor Fer’at listed, and he’s not a pathologist ... He’s a psychiatric analyst.”
Archer pushed himself from the bed. According to T’Pol, Vulcans prided themselves on their honesty—but Soval was just one of the most underhanded, deceitful people Archer’d ever met. He turned on Fer’at with fury. “Soval sure is persistent. What did he want you to do, come back with proof that I’m out of my mind?”
Phlox was as angry as Archer had ever seen him; the Denobulan’s ridged brow was knit together in an intimidating scowl. “You come to my sickbay under false pretenses! Where are your medical ethics!”
Fer’at remained calm and uncowed. “I’m just doing what I was told to do.”
“Well, I’m telling you to get the hell off my ship!” Archer said, with more than a little satisfaction. He turned to the doctor. “If you don’t mind, Phlox, I’d like you to escort our guest to the airlock.”
“Gladly,” Phlox said, and led the Vulcan away with an air of righteous indignation.
The pale blue Florida sky was filled with the fat cumulus clouds of summer, some of them edged an ominous charcoal, reminding Trip of the pending afternoon