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"Returned" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG CHAPTER 4 Archer lay on his bed, tossing a water polo ball in the air. His thoughts kept returning to his poor choice and he couldn’t shake the guilt. He let his head roll to the side when the doorbell beeped. “Come in,” Archer said. Rachel walked in. Archer sat up, watching her. She looked around his quarters, her eyes stopping on the books on his headboard. “Can I help you?” Archer asked. Rachel looked at him, a tear sliding down her face. “Why did you order me to be revived?” Archer’s throat tightened and he couldn’t swallow. He looked down at the water polo ball in his hands, not sure what to say. “Don’t get me wrong, Jonathan, I’m grateful that you did.” Archer looked at her. She had crouched down and was petting Porthos. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You don’t look grateful,” Archer said. “I just found out I’ll be dead in a few weeks and probably lose my mind before then. How do you expect me to look?” ‘I deserved that,’ Archer scolded himself. He didn’t reply. Rachel stood, walking around to the windows. Archer didn’t turn, just tilted his head so he could listen to her. She leaned on the window edge, watching space. “Why do you people take everything for granted?” Rachel asked. Archer turned, staring at her back. “Excuse me?” “I was surprised when Trip told me how many kinds of ice cream the resequencer can make. He said he wasn’t surprised because he’s use to it.” Rachel turned, meeting Archer’s gaze. “And you act like flying around in space at these speeds is nothing exciting. Or those shuttle pods that you have that can fly in space, air, and water, aren’t anything to talk about. Why do all of you act like that?” “I’m sure there were things you took for granted in your time. Like cars and grocery stores.” Rachel started crying harder, shaking her head before she spoke. “Oh, I did. Before I was framed for murder and supposedly executed, I did. Everything. I had it so good and I messed it up so bad. Just picked the wrong past time.” “You were a drug addict?” “Marijuana and cocaine. It helped me forget my mother was dead. I was feeling sorry for myself. ‘Oh pity me!’ And then the gun ended up in my hands.” Rachel’s crying subsided and she became very still. She put her hands behind her, pinning her arms against the wall with her body. “I was supposed to destroy Arcadian II. But I wasn’t going to do that. I was going to go to Mars, plant the bombs in the habitat and set off an alarm to get the astronauts back into the shuttle. And then blow it.” “And where were you going to be?” “In the habitat.” “Why? Why not come back to Earth?” “I... I was getting out of line, couldn’t be controlled. I was a risk.” Rachel shook her head. “To the organization?” Rachel nodded. “What made you a risk to them?” “I would set off fire alarms to get people out of buildings before I detonated bombs. I would fire over a crowd to make them scatter so only the target would die. I refused to kill one target, my last target before Arcadian II.” “Who was it?” “A teenager my age. It was supposed to be a message to his dad. But his dad got an anonymous letter about the threat and put the kid in protective custody. Foiled their assassination plans and they suspected I had sent the letter.” “Did you?” She nodded. Archer looked at his water polo ball. “Sounds like you did everything you could to keep from being evil.” “There’s no such thing when you pull the trigger or detonate a bomb.” “Yes there is.” Archer looked at her. “I’ve been in your shoes, Rachel, and when it’s one life versus many, I’ve chosen one life before.” Rachel shrugged, looking down. “The point is that after all of that, I ended up frozen and then revived. I got a second chance at life, Jonathan.” Rachel smiled at him. “I’m thankful. And before I forget you and die, I just needed to say thank you.” Archer nodded a couple times. Rachel walked over to his computer, tapping the keypad. “I love your computers! They’re so fast.” Archer smiled, laughing. Rachel sat down on the bed next to him. She cocked her head to the side when a song began playing. “Who is this?” Archer asked. “The Beatles.” “Oh no. My great-grandfather loved The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. I can’t stand them.” “Listen to the words.” Archer obeyed. The song ended and they were silent for a few minutes. Rachel turned to him. “When I die this time, don’t revive me again, okay? Just let it be.” Archer didn’t answer. Rachel picked up his hand in both of hers. “Please, Jonathan? Please promise me.” Archer nodded. “I promise.” Rachel threw her arms around him, giving him a tight hug. Archer was surprised by the response, but hugged her back. Rachel stood up, looking at the water polo ball. “Is there somewhere to play basketball?” Archer looked at the ball and then back up at her. “This is a water polo ball.” “Oh.” “But we do have basketballs.” Archer sat the ball down, standing. “Let’s go see how good you are, old lady.” Rachel laughed, following him and Porthos out. # Archer entered Sickbay seeing Doctor Phlox behind a sheer curtain. Archer walked into the curtained area, standing at Rachel’s bedside. In five weeks her skin had dried and wrinkled, and her brown hair had turned snow-white. “Is she resting?” Archer asked. “Yes. She’ll pass soon.” Phlox left the curtained area. Archer picked up a stool and sat it next to the bio-bed. He sat down, sliding his hand into hers. Archer looked up when he heard the Sickbay doors open. Hoshi, Trip and T’Pol walked in, stopping Phlox to talk to them. Archer looked back at Rachel. “What the hell was I thinking?” Archer whispered to her. A voice replied, “You were thinking that she’d choose life over death.” Archer looked up. The Stranger stood on the opposite side of the bed. He no longer donned a Starfleet uniform; instead he was dressed in robes and a tall hat. And the way he grinned seemed to mock the sincerity of his words. Archer turned his head to call for the others, but the words died in his throat. Hoshi had the curtain pushed open, frozen in mid-step. A solid tear rested on her cheek. He could see Phlox, T’Pol and Trip, frozen in conversation. Archer looked back at The Stranger. He was looking down at Rachel, one hand tenderly smoothing down her hair. He looked sidelong at Archer. “You did just as I knew you would. Sympathy is so strong in humans, Jonathan.” “Who are you? What have you done to my crew?” “What I’ve done is harmless. Really. It is. And who I am, is of no consequence. Rachel deserved a chance to live.” Archer sprang to his feet, bellowing, “She only lived for eight weeks! What kind of a chance is that?” “Why can’t humans get past the irrelevance of time? Three weeks, ninety years. Does time really make the sum of a life? Even though she didn’t realize it, Rachel managed to do something I knew no one else could. She gave you a refreshed view on things that had become mundane.” The Stranger looked down at T’Pol. “She touched a Vulcan’s withdrawn soul.” The Stranger lifted his eyebrows. “Which was a particularly favorite moment of mine! I think I’ll watch that numerous times for millennia to come.” “So you are from the future?” “Sometimes.” “What the hell does that mean? Does this have something to do with the Temporal Cold War?” “The Temporal Cold War!? Tish-tosh!” The Stranger laughed. “That petty dispute has no relevance to me, except when it interferes with my fun. And then I have to go in and fix all the annoying changes everyone keeps making! Everyone involved should take up a hobby or I just might get angry.” “So if you don’t care about it, then why all of this? Why have her revived?” “Because I couldn’t have you turning back, Jonathan. Then there would never be any Captain Piccards or Janeways or Siskos and I would consider that a personal loss.” Archer was completely lost now. “What are you talking about!?” “Oh, that’s right! You won’t be around for any of that. Pitty.” He cocked his head as if listening to something Archer couldn’t hear. With a wide Cheshire grin and exuberant voice he cried, “Ta-ta!” And then he vanished, his voice echoing behind him, “Don’t forget your promise to Rachel, Jonathan.” “Captain,” Hoshi said. Archer turned his head, watching her walk up beside him. His heart skipped a beat when the monitor alarm went off. He looked up at the monitor, staring the straight line on the heart monitor. Doctor Phlox rushed over and started to resuscitate Rachel. Archer heard Hoshi start crying. He reached across Rachel, grabbing Phlox’s hands to stop him. Phlox looked up. “Stop,” Archer quietly ordered. “Capt--” “She lived a good life. Let her go. It’s what she wanted.” Phlox slowly pulled back. Archer bowed his head, his guilt coming back with a furious vengeance. He closed his eyes and he wasn’t ashamed to cry this time. # Archer bounced his water polo ball off the ceiling, his mind light years away. He caught the ball, looking out the port windows. Somewhere in the vacuum of space, a coffin with Rachel’s aged body was drifting with the Arcadian II astronauts. His doorbell beeped and he sat up. “Come in.” T’Pol entered. Archer looked at the book she was carrying, wondering which Vulcan text she was expecting him to read this time. She held it out to him and he noticed it didn’t look like the other worn texts she brought him. This one was rough and tied shut with a piece of leather. It didn’t even have any title printed on it. He frowned at her. “What is it?” “Something a human should have.” Archer sat the ball beside him and took the book. He untied the leather string, opening it to the middle. Flowing cursive writing filled the page and in reading two sentences, Archer realized this was a journal. He looked up at her. “Whose is this?” “Rachel’s.” “Why didn’t you recycle it?” “It is something of a historical text and I thought it might help you better understand her plight.” Archer looked at the page. He turned back to the first page, running his finger over the top line. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Good night, sir.” Archer didn’t look up as she left. He laid back on his bed, running his finger over the line again. “Computer,” Archer paused for the soft beep. “Play ‘Let it Be’ by The Beatles.” The song began playing, fading into background noise as Archer read about Rachel’s life. |
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