By the Book (13 page)

Anderson rubbed his hands together. "Let's go," he said.

Cutler made sure there were enough bolts in the cup and that the paint hadn't chipped off any of them. "Do you remember where we are?"

"We're way up in this building," Novakovich said, "facing a sky bridge that is clearly a nesting place for flying Martian lizards. Right?"

"That's right," Cutler said, putting the cup of painted bolts in the middle of the folded towel. She was glad she had invented flying lizards instead of, say, giant spiders.

In spite of herself, she shuddered.

"So what are our choices?" Mayweather asked. He seemed to be watching her closely. He must have noticed the shudder. She gave him a grateful smile.

"You can either try to go across," she said, "or you can go back down. Four floors below there are two other sky bridges, but they are not as direct a route toward your goal."

"I say we give this one a try," Anderson said.

"Well," Mayweather said, "if you're so certain, go first."

Novakovich nodded.

"All right," Anderson said, "I'm moving out onto the bridge. What do I face?"

Cutler described to him how the floor of the bridge was weak, that there was debris from a Martian flying lizard's nest directly ahead, and that he would have to try to climb through. Her description wasn't as good as usual, and she knew it. For the first time since they started playing, she wasn't able to visualize her invented Mars.

"You can still turn back safely," she said.

Anderson shook his head. "I'm going to try to climb through the nest."

Cutler handed him the cup of dice. "Six or above and you make it."

He shook the cup of bolts, making a number of people at other mess tables glance his way, shake their heads, and go back to what they were doing.

He dumped the bolts out onto the towel.

Mayweather and Novakovich both started laughing. He had rolled only one red bolt.

Anderson braced himself in the chair. "This isn't as bad as it looks, right?"

Cutler didn't answer him directly. She had learned not to do that during the game. Instead, she described what happened.

"In climbing through the nest you have stepped into a hole in the deck of the sky bridge and fallen through." She tapped the one red bolt. "You have managed to grab a beam with one hand and are hanging there."

"Can we help him?" Mayweather asked.

Cutler scooped up the bolts, put them in the cup, and dumped them out. Three red. "No. You can't."

"So what do I do?" Anderson said. "I don't want to lose Dr. Mean."

"He has to try to climb back up." Cutler put the bolts back in the cup and handed it to Anderson. "If you roll more than your strength, you can't make it."

"Six or under then," Anderson said.

He was about to dump out the bolts when the ship's alarms went off. Cutler jumped. Mayweather's arm shot backward, and knocked over his coffee cup. The alarms were so loud Cutler couldn't hear it clatter to the floor.

Lieutenant Reed's voice came over the intercom. "The alien has escaped from sickbay. Do not try to engage. Everyone stay clear."

"Oh, my god," Cutler said.

"What can this thing do?" Novakovich asked.

"That's the problem," Mayweather said. "We really don't know."

Archer had been on his way back to sickbay when Reed sounded the alarm. Even before Reed finished his announcement, Archer took off. He ran as fast as he could, ducking through the hatchways, and sliding around corners.

It took him less than a minute to reach sickbay, but he didn't go in. As he rounded the last corner, he saw both Reed and Dr. Phlox standing to one side of the corridor, clearly taking cover.

The smell of rotted fish seemed even more powerful than before. Archer almost felt as if he could see it as a clear blue haze filling the darkened corridor.

Inside sickbay, someone screamed. The cry sent chills down Archer's spine.

"What's going on?" he asked as he slid to a stop beside his chief of security.

Reed didn't look at Archer. Instead, he kept his gaze on the corridor, and the sickbay door.

"The alien woke up a bit sooner than expected," Reed said.

"I was out of the room," Dr. Phlox said, "and so was the lieutenant. We were talking about the need for more guards-"

"When my men started screaming." Reed's face was pale. "I glanced inside. The alien was moving its legs, trying to stand, like an upended turtle, and my men were clutching their heads, screaming, just like Edwards did on the surface."

Archer frowned at the sickbay door. What was going on in there?

"I came out here to prevent Dr. Phlox from going inside. He convinced me to stay beside him, and that's when I sounded the alarm." Reed ran a hand through his hair. "I must admit it didn't take convincing."

"He wanted to go in there, rifle blazing," Phlox said. "Since I'm not sure what's causing this reaction, I warned him not to."

"Sensible, Doctor," Archer said. He didn't want to lose Reed to this creature's strange powers. He was glad Phlox had stepped in.

Another scream echoed. This one was ragged, higher-pitched, and so full of terror that the hair on the back of Archer's neck stood up. That had never happened to him before. He'd always thought it was an expression instead of an involuntary response.

"All right," he said, wondering what it was about the tone of that scream that made his body react so strongly while his mind remained calm. "What are our options?"

"I've established a perimeter," Reed said. "I didn't want to hazard more men inside sickbay. I believe we have a better chance at this creature if we wait for it to emerge. There are men on the other side of the corridor. If the alien comes out of sickbay, it can only go two ways, and we have both of those ways blocked."

The scream started again, only this time it became a wail that seemed to go on forever.

"I'm not so worried about it escaping," Archer said. "I just don't want anyone hurt, including the alien. Understood? Knock it out only."

"I've already given that order," Reed said. "All of our weapons are set on stun."

At that moment the scream cut off suddenly, leaving the corridor in total silence. Archer had never heard anything as bad as that silence. It was different from the silence he'd encountered on the planet.

That silence was an absence of sound.

This one seemed more potent than that. It seemed to hang in the air, as if it had form and substance. Archer didn't want to allow himself to think about what that silence meant to the men inside that room.

At that moment, a pair of hairy black legs eased into the corridor. Reed tensed beside Archer. Archer pulled out his own pistol.

The carapace came next, the creature's face almost completely hidden in blackness. If Archer hadn't known where the eyes were, he wouldn't have seen them, glinting darkly in the corridor's yellow light.

Archer knew that the creature's gaze didn't dare land on them. Reed must have come to the same conclusion, because he and Archer fired at the same time.

From the other side of the corridor, more shots hit the creature.

It slumped to the floor and its eyes closed.

Again the silence seemed to weigh on Archer, pushing him downward. The smell had grown so strong that it coated Archer, became part of him. He wondered if it would ever wash off.

Archer eased toward the alien, with Reed on his left, both of them keeping their weapons trained on it.

Then, inside the sickbay, a man again started to scream.

Phlox pushed past them. "Excuse me, I have a patient calling me."

He stepped over the still body of the alien as if it didn't bother him at all.

Archer glanced at Reed, who only shrugged. They crouched beside the creature. Its legs had slid outward, leaving the same slime that Archer had noticed before. He avoided the slime, stepped between the legs, and peered at the creature itself.

It seemed vulnerable, although he had no idea why he had that sense.

"I'm going to need help in here," Dr. Phlox shouted.

Reed headed into sickbay. Archer stood, reluctant to leave the creature. He motioned to the guards at the other end of the corridor.

"If it moves," he said to them, "stun it again."

They nodded. They looked as nervous as Reed had. Those screams were enough to unsettle anyone.

Archer stepped inside the sickbay and stopped. The normally clean, well-lit place looked as though a tornado had gone through it. One of the biobeds was tilted-only the fact that it was bolted into the floor had kept it from falling entirely-and a screen above was cracked. The tilted bed was covered with slime, as was the floor leading out of the sickbay.

But that wasn't what surprised Archer. He had expected some destruction. He had also expected to see bloody and wounded men.

What he actually saw was worse. One guard, Crewman Pointer, lay on the floor, away from the slime, curled in a fetal position. His hands covered his head as he rocked back and forth. His lips were moving, but no words were coming out.

The other guard, Crewman Daniels, stood, frozen in the middle of the room, his gun still in his hand. He was staring at the ceiling.

Daniels was the one who was screaming. The screams came in bursts, as if he were continually startled by something.

"You want to make sure he doesn't shoot me?" Dr. Phlox shouted at Archer over the screams.

Daniels didn't seem to hear him. Just breath after breath, he kept screaming and staring at something Archer couldn't see.

Archer and Reed pointed their plasma pistols at Daniels. Archer double-checked to make sure his was set on stun. He was amazed at the sight before him. He kept thinking about all those psychological tests, about how Reed's security team had rated the highest in Starfleet on courage and other scores, and how quickly they were reduced to this.

What were they facing?

Phlox moved around Daniels, being stealthy, although Archer doubted that was needed. Daniels seemed oblivious of everything except whatever he was seeing on the ceiling. Archer had looked up and seen nothing but the familiar white lights that usually made this room so bright and cheerful.

With one quick movement, Phlox gave Daniels a shot in the arm. Daniels didn't move. The shot didn't even interrupt his screams.

Then, suddenly, he stopped screaming. His eyes rolled into his head and he slumped to the floor. Phlox caught him just before Daniels' head hit the hard deck.

Then Phlox moved over and gave Crewman Pointer a shot, knocking him out as well.

Archer let out a breath. His ears rang. He hadn't realized how prevalent the screaming had been, like the stench that still filled this area. He wasn't sure if the smell wasn't as strong in here; it had coated his nose so badly everything stank of rotted fish.

He glanced at the alien body in the doorway, then at the two men on the floor. One alien and three of his men down, and he had no idea why.

He wasn't even sure that what he had just witnessed had been a fight. It felt more like he was being a guard in a mental ward, controlling unruly patients. And he didn't like that feeling at all.

Reed helped Phlox lift Daniels to one of the biobeds. Next to him, Edwards slept on, completely oblivious of everything that had happened around him.

Archer went to Pointer. The man's body was rigid, even though he was unconscious. His fingers twitched convulsively at his hair.

Reed came to his side, and together they carried Pointer to a nearby biobed. Phlox fluttered between both of the new patients, more upset than Archer had ever seen him.

Archer glanced at the readings above Edwards' head. They looked no different than they had before. He couldn't figure them out; he wasn't even sure what normal looked like on this equipment.

"Doctor, you said you got some answers for me when we woke up Edwards," Archer said.

"I said I got some information, not answers." Phlox was trying to ease Pointer's hands away from his head. He wasn't having much luck.

"You're going to have to convert that information into answers," Archer said. "We're out of time."

"I know." Phlox didn't look at him.

"I want all your efforts spent on figuring out what happened here," Archer said. "I want a solution, and I want it fast."

Phlox nodded.

Archer turned to Reed. "Make sure the alien stays out cold and in confinement until we know what happened here."

"Yes, sir," Reed said.

"At the first sign of trouble with that alien, I want our people to fall back, just like we did. Whatever happened to these men happened quickly and because they were within a certain proximity. You and Dr. Phlox managed to avoid the same fate, just as Ensigns Cutler and Mayweather did. I have to believe, until someone proves otherwise, that distance had something to do with it."

"Begging your pardon, sir, we don't know what caused this."

Archer gave him a cold smile. "And that's the real problem, isn't it?"

He didn't wait for a response. He stepped past the alien and headed down the corridor for the bridge. There were answers. And he had a hunch the Fazi might just have them.

The smell followed Archer to the bridge. He wondered if it was on him or just clogging his nostrils, the way some heavy scents did. Well, he wasn't going to worry about it for now. His bridge crew would have to deal with the stench if, indeed, it was trailing him.

Everyone was at their posts. Mayweather sat at the pilot's station. Mayweather had gone off shift not long before, but alert status had brought him back to his position on the bridge.

The whoop of the alert alarm sounded louder here, perhaps because it wasn't competing with Daniels' screams.

Archer headed for his command chair. "Stand down from alert status. Inform everyone to return to normal schedules until notified."

Hoshi repeated the order through the intercom system to the ship and then turned back to her screen, clearly intent on something she was studying. She hadn't taken any more time from the bridge than a few short naps and meals since this all started. She had rings under her eyes and her hair was a mess, but Archer said nothing to her. He needed her to figure out what was happening, and why his mention of the race on the southern continent had made them cut off communication. One important way was through the Fazi language.