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"Polemics" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG CHAPTER 2 Phlox scanned Trip’s arm and sat back. T’Pol stood nearby, watching the two. They had gathered in the shade of the shuttle pod, trying to escape the intense desert heat. Shuttle pod two sat a few meters beyond the crashed shuttle pod one. “You have hairline fractures,” Phlox told him. “Nothing serious but I need to get you back to--” “No. I’m looking for the Cap’n,” Trip informed him. “Commander--” “Doc, he wouldn’t have just walked off like this. I’m staying and looking for him and that’s the end of it.” Phlox frowned. “Fine, but not until I’ve at least put your arm in a sling.” “T’Pol, who else came with you?” “Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Mayweather.” “Why don’t you send them off to start searching for the Cap’n? When Phlox is done with me, we’ll go the other way.” “Commander, we did not detect any humanoid life when we scanned the planet twenty minutes ago. Including Captain Archer’s.” “It’s a good sized planet. You couldn’t have scanned the entire thing.” “Commander, we did not detect him--” “T’Pol, humor me. That’s my best friend out there. Your friend, too.” “We will search for a few hours.” “We’re searching longer than that.” “Commander, I don’t want to leave without searching either, but how do you propose we find him? We don’t know where to begin looking.” “Just start searching. He’d do it for either of us.” T’Pol did not look entirely convinced and when she lifted her chin defiantly, Trip expected an argument against the request to come out. Instead she told him, “I will compromise. If you will return to Enterprise to let Doctor Phlox set your arm, we will search for two weeks. If we do not find him then we will have to conclude he has perished.” With a solemn headshake, Trip replied, “Agreed.” “We’ll need more crewmen to search. And send down equipment to set up a home base.” Trip nodded. T’Pol and Phlox helped Trip to his feet and the three walked to shuttle pod two. # The scent of fresh pine filled Archer’s sense of smell as he regained consciousness. He heard birds chirping happily nearby and the soft, muffled drone of a large group of people talking. He felt softness under him and surrounding him, and he was comfortably warm. The pain in his head persisted, but it was duller now. “Archer,” someone said. He didn’t recognize the voice or the name. A hand rested on his shoulder and he opened his eyes, looking up at another Zian. This one was older with wrinkled skin and graying red-brown hair. He smiled as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He held a device over Archer’s head and then looked at it. He looked at Archer with a kind smile. “Your being is as right as can be expected with your harm so great.” The alien’s voice was kind and quiet. Archer looked around him. The room he was in was decorated in warm, bright colors and reflected the sunlight streaming through the long windows that ran the length of the walls along the top. “Where am I?” Archer asked. He winced when his own voice made his headache flare. “This is Priam’s shelter. He was the Zian that sighted you.” In hopes to ease the pain in his head, Archer kept his voice to a whisper. “Where am I?” “I just told you.” “No. I mean what...what...” Archer trailed off. He couldn’t remember the word he wanted and trying to remember was making his head hurt more. “What planet are you on?” “Yes.” “The Arnoughts call it Arnought Minor.” “Why can’t I remember anything?” “Your harm is severe.” The man’s smile faded. “It is going to end your existence soon. I am sorry, but I cannot repair it. I am not permitted to.” Archer’s mind drifted past what he was told, trying desperately to find the memories it knew existed but it couldn’t access. “What is your...name?” he asked the Zian. “My designation?” “Yes.” “I am designated Saphrus.” “And my designation?” “According to the clothes you were wearing, it is either Archer or Enterprise. I’m going to guess Archer. Archer was a great Zian. He is best known among the horsemen for his great skill and ability to talk their talk.” Saphrus reached out to the table beside the bed and picked up a small PADD. He handed it to Archer. Archer took it and tapped the screen like he’d always done. The screen lit up and a list appeared. He tapped one of the items and the sound of a crowd cheering came out of the hidden speaker, accompanied with a video of a water polo game. Archer tapped the screen, freezing it. Saphrus had been watching the screen over the top. He looked at Archer. “Does this look familiar?” Saphrus asked. “No. What is it?” “I do not know. This device was with you.” Archer stared at the screen. Saphrus held his hand out for the device. “May I?” Archer handed it Saphrus. He worked on it until he brought up what he was looking for. He turned the device to reveal a picture of Archer, a woman with long black hair and a man smiling for whoever took the picture. Saphrus pointed at the bottom where a caption was entered. Archer took the device, reading out loud: “Hoshi, Trip and I at Haklous. Never come here empty handed.” “This is you,” Saphrus pointed at Archer in the picture. “And I would assume one is Hoshi and the other to be Trip. Do they not look familiar?” Archer barely shook his head. “There are more pictures on here. Perhaps you should look at them and see if you remember anything about them.” Archer dropped the PADD on the bed with a soft sigh. “What is it?” Saphrus asked. “I can’t remember anything. My head hurts.” Saphrus looked down for a moment. He smiled, looking back at Archer. “Do you feel well enough to get out of bed?” “Yes.” “Why don’t we go to the garden? The fresh air will invigorate your being.” Archer nodded. Saphrus stood and walked to a chair where Archer’s clothes, clean and folded, lay. He picked them up and sat them on the bed. “I’ll be on the other side of the entrance waiting for you.” Saphrus motioned toward the door and then left. Archer slowly slid out of bed and picked up the clothes. He pulled on his underwear and under shirt and then picked up the blue uniform. His eyes drifted to the pips pinned above a yellow stripe. He turned the uniform in his hands, spotting the patch sewn onto the left shoulder. He brushed a thumb over it, staring at it. Archer shook his head. He turned the uniform to put it on and found a matching blue tag sewn into the collar. It had ‘Archer’ embroidered in maroon on it. He unzipped the uniform and pulled it on. A pair of black boots sat next to the bed that he pulled them on. Archer walked to the door and opened it, finding Saphrus waiting in the hall. He led Archer out of the cottage into a wide street filled with Zian. They murmured a warm greeting as they walked past the two. Saphrus linked his arm around Archer’s and they took two steps from the door and disappeared. They reappeared at the entrance of the garden. Archer was aware the teleportation happened, but he didn’t feel surprised by it. The garden was enclosed in an open dome and gently sloped upward to a main building and greenhouses hidden by the foliage. Saphrus let Archer’s arm go and led the way up a wide path that wove lazily through the garden. Stately trees surrounded them and blew in the breezes that wafted through them. Archer fell behind, entranced by the garden’s majesty and beauty. At the door of the main building, Saphrus waited for Archer to join him and the two entered together. Priam and a male and female Zian were working inside. The three stopped what they were doing and greeted the two. “This is Archer,” Saphrus told the three and then introduced them from right to left, “These are the Gardeners. This is Achimelle, Machaon, and Priam. Priam is the one that found you and with whom you shelter.” “Hello,” Archer said. “Have you been able to treat his harm, Saphrus?” Priam asked. “No,” Saphrus told them. “All I can treat the pain so he does not exist pained, but his harm will cause his existence to end soon.” The three were sobered by the news and muttered words of condolence. Archer kept silent, half wishing they’d be quiet. Archer’s expression didn’t escape Saphrus’ attention and he quickly stepped in. “I thought you might appreciate some assistance in the greenhouse for a few days. Do you like to work with plants, Archer?” Saphrus looked up at him. “I don’t know.” “There is but one way to find out,” Priam said brightly with an equally bright smile. “You can work in the Apricot greenhouse with me.” His smile waned. “There is one that certainly needs the sole attention of a one. He is not right. And you can tend the Apricot underlings. Come.” Priam walked away, beckoning Archer to follow. Archer obeyed. “How soon will he cease to exist?” Achimelle asked Saphrus. “Not long. Maybe a full work span, but less than a moon span. His harm is causing his thought to grow and his being structure does not give much room for this.” “Why don’t you approach the council about our rule? We could save his existence. We could help him remember who his beings are and return him.” “The rule is there for a reason.” Saphrus smiled at her. “See that our young gardener doesn’t give Archer too much work. Repotting underlings is all I want him doing.” “I’ll talk to Priam.” Saphrus nodded once and disappeared. # Archer was startled when the vines from the plants hanging over his head wrapped around his arms and stroked his body. He swatted them away, trying to get away. He spun when someone grabbed his arm. Priam caught his wrists before Archer could swing at another vine. He gave Archer’s wrists a painful squeeze, getting Archer’s attention. “Calm,” Priam quietly said, holding Archer’s gaze. “What are these?” “These are Apricots. You pain them with your strikes. Cease.” Archer pulled his wrists away, looking at the planets. “These are apricots?” On a second observation he saw they all had flowers halfway up the vines and they were a variety of colors and shapes. “Yes. You seem surprised.” “I remember apricots as fruit that you eat.” “Oh, you would not want to use Apricots for nourishment. They would cry and bleed, unless you were to cease their existence, but we do not kill anything. We believe that ceasing anything’s existence is a doing of nature only.” Archer turned to him. “You don’t kill -- cease the existence of anything?” “No. We do not believe in volatile behavior.” Archer looked back at the Apricots. “Are these really plants? They act somewhat like animals.” “They get most of their nourishment from the soil and like all plants they need sun and water to grow. Those who investigate matters of nature and the planet are uncertain how to explain Apricots, but they grow all over our settlements.” “Do they only grow in the settlements?” “There are a few places outside that they grow, but they live mostly in the settlements. They seem to thrive on talk and contact from us. Come.” Archer followed Priam, watching the Apricots as he passed them. The plants moved and stretched to brush against Priam as he passed. Some frisked his hair like a cat playing with a ball of string. They came to a table with several lights over it. It was the second sign of technology Archer had seen, but despite the primitive surroundings he didn’t find it out of place. Sitting at one end was an Apricot in a large, hanging pot. It was listless and didn’t acknowledge them when they approached. In dozens of small pots around it there were small Apricots that waved happily and brushed Priam’s hands when he placed them among the plants. Archer walked over to the large, listless one and gently stroked the vines like Priam was doing. The flowers on the vines were wilted and fell off at his light touch. One of its shorter vines reached out and touched his hand. “Don’t get any of the clear fluid on your hands,” Priam warned. “It will make your stomach unright.” “It looks sick,” Archer told Priam. “He is unright. We have tried everything to help him, but he does not seem to enjoy his existence. I talk regularly to him, but it does not make him right.” “Do you name them?” “Name?” Priam asked. “Do you...” Archer thought back to his conversation with Saphrus. “Do you give them designations?” “Sometimes I do; the ones that I’m partial to. If you wish, you can choose a designation for him.” Archer smiled when the Apricot weakly brushed his hand and tried to lift a vine to Archer’s face. Archer gently picked it up and lifted it to his face. The Apricot shook a little. “Why is it shaking?” “They do that when they enjoy a being’s touch. He likes you.” “Can his designation be Charles?” “That is an unusual designation,” Priam said. Archer’s brow furrowed. “It isn’t to me.” “It is a good designation.” Priam moved a wood armchair next to the table, continuing, “I have work to do. Stay here and talk with Charles, Archer. I will return.” Priam picked up two watering cans and disappeared into the vines of Apricots. Archer sat down, watching the vines follow him. He stroked them, laying his head on the back of the chair. “Do you like poetry, Charles? I remember some.” Archer told the plant. He closed his eyes and started reciting. Behind him Priam stopped what he was doing to listen to Archer. # Trip and T’Pol walked two meters apart through the forest, stopping to check every place where Archer could be hidden from view. Trip had his arm in a sling that held it tight against his body. Behind them two suns hung low in the sky. T’Pol glanced at Trip. “You haven’t spoken much,” T’Pol commented. “Just thinkin’.” They were silent for a moment. “Did negotiations with the Arnought Governor go well?” Trip stopped short. T’Pol stopped, watching him. Trip looked at her. “Yeah. We got him to sign the trade agreements for Earth and Vulcan. It went swell!” Trip stomped away. T’Pol stood for a moment. She turned and trotted to catch up. She fell in beside him, watching his face. “Commander.” “What?” T’Pol stepped in front of him, stopping him. “Did something happen during the negotiations?” Trip closed his eyes. “They weren’t going so hot. The Cap’n wasn’t making headway.” Trip looked at her. “He was being nice and all, but the Arnought Governor thought he was too serious and not honest enough. He didn’t want to deal with someone like that. So I told him a story about the Capn’s past. I didn’t think it’d bother him. Turns out he felt it was too personal.” “Surely you knew how Captain Archer felt about the story.” “That’s just the thing, T’Pol! Back home, I lost track of how many people he told it to! And it got the Arnought Governor to sign the trade agreements!” “I think you missed the point.” Trip looked down, shaking his head. “Once again I screwed up. That’s the point. Why he doesn’t just send me to another ship is beyond me, T’Pol.” “You are the best warp drive engineer in Starfleet. And he does consider you one of his best friends. I believe these account for his patience with you.” Trip smiled, looking up. His smile vanished. T’Pol turned, staring at the female Zian. The alien looked as surprised to see them, as they were to see her. She wore a long poncho over homespun clothes and was carrying a basket of berries. Her eyes traveled down, stopping at their phase pistols. She started backing away. “WAIT!” Trip cried, holding out his hand. “Wait just a sec.” She stopped moving. “A bunch of us are looking for someone. He’s about my height, brown hair, in the same uniform with yellow instead of red right here.” The woman stared at Trip. “Perhaps she doesn’t speak English,” T’Pol suggested. “Your talk is called Ishlaj,” she said. “Have you seen anyone like that?” “Arnoughts are all I’ve ever seen.” “You know about the Arnoughts?” “Yes. They believe they own this planet.” “You’re not Arnought?” T’Pol asked. “No. We came here and made many settlements long before the Arnoughts came.” “We did not detect any humanoid life forms when we scanned the surface, or any civilizations. How did your people hide yourselves from our sensors?” The woman didn’t offer an explanation. Trip took a step toward her and she stepped back. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trip told her. “Could you maybe take us to one of your settlements? Maybe we could talk to someone in charge.” “You are not permitted at the settlements. Volatile races are considered unclean.” She pointed at his phase pistol. “We carry them only for protection,” T’Pol explained, “In case we are under attack. If it makes you uncomfortable, we will leave them behind.” “You cannot go to the settlement.” “Look, lady, we need help finding our friend. He’s probably hurt and he’s probably wandering around these woods.” “I will talk of him when I return to the settlement. If he exists, he will be returned promptly.” “This would go quicker if you’d just let us talk to someone,” Trip said. “Good bidding.” The woman took two steps back and disappeared before their eyes, surprising both T’Pol and Trip. |
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