The Miles That Lay Ahead- Chapter 13

The Miles That Lay Ahead

by Gabi

Genre: Action/Adventure/Angst
Rating: PG-13 (one or two chapters will be rated R later on)

Disclaimer: I guess I own the aliens in this story, the friendly as well as the unfriendly ones, but unfortunately none of the Enterprise staff.

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Chapter 13

When Malcolm turned around at the sound, he found himself looking at two aliens who were regarding him rather curiously. "Bloody hell."

"Exactly. So much for stayin' unnoticed." Trip threw the strangers a careful look. It was a man and a woman, both of them looking very human. In fact, neither of them would have encountered any trouble passing for a normal citizen back on Earth.

The woman said something, her voice sounding friendly rather than frightened or even hostile. She turned to her companion and pointed in the direction from which they had apparently come from. The man nodded and left.

"My kingdom for a translator," Trip muttered.

Malcolm sat down next to him. "Mine’s in the pocket on my right arm."

Trip opened the zipper, and pulled out the small translating device. "I could kiss you, Mal."

"I'd rather you restrain yourself." Malcolm didn't take his eyes off the alien woman. "She doesn't look hostile."

"Well, looks like for once luck's on our side," Trip said, switching on the UT. The woman who was patiently watching seemed to know what he was doing, and started to speak again. After a while they were able to understand what she was saying.

"Can we help you somehow? We watched your vessel going down. Where do you come from?"

"We had to make an emergency landin' out in the desert," Trip answered hoarsely.

"In the desert? And you survived that?" The woman turned back to her companion who was hurrying towards the shuttle, carrying a bottle of water in each hand. Trip swallowed dryly, exchanging a glance with Malcolm. The man gave him one of the bottles, and opened the other one for Malcolm.

"Your hands are injured," he stated. "Let me help you."

"Drink as much as you want," the woman said. "We've got more back in our flitter."

They emptied the bottles in several big gulps, allowing the cool liquid to run down their dry throats. It felt like they had never tasted anything that good before. The water seemed to wash away all the dirt and dust, filling them with new strength.

"They're both badly injured," the man said. "We should take them to a doctor."

"Yes," the woman agreed. "Why don't we take them directly to the Health Center? They'll get the best medical attention there."

"We left our flitter right at the edge of the forest," the man said, taking the now empty bottles. "Come on, we'll help you."

Malcolm swallowed, running his tongue over his lips. "My friend here can't walk," he said.

"Then I'll carry him. Salita can help you. By the way, my name is Falik."

Allowing Salita to help him to his feet, Malcolm introduced himself and Trip. Falik wrapped one arm around Trip's upper body and the other one around his legs, lifting him as effortlessly as though he weighed nothing at all.

Trip threw Malcolm a questioning glance. Could it really be that these aliens were genuinely friendly, only trying to help? Were they really going to take them to a doctor, or was it all a charade? Malcolm was feeling suspicious as well, but realized that at the moment they didn't really have a choice but to trust these people.

With Salita lending him a supporting hand whenever he needed it, Malcolm slowly and awkwardly made his way through the forest. Luckily, though, the underbrush wasn't very thick, and only ten minutes later the small group arrived at the place where the couple had parked their flitter. It looked like a cross between an old-fashioned car and a shuttle, with big doors on both sides. Falik helped Trip sit down in one of the comfortable-looking bucket seats while Malcolm climbed in on his own, letting out a relieved sigh as he lowered himself onto the soft material of the seat. Salita took a seat behind the steering wheel.

"You're not from Renelan, are you?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder. Trip and Malcolm traded a glance.

"I mean, it's obvious," she smiled. "I’ve never seen that kind of shuttle before. Are you from Menaos or from Alkira?"

Neither of them knew what to say in response, but Falik saved them.

"Leave them alone, Salita, you see how tired they are. Of course they're either from Menaos or Alkira. After all, those are the only inhabited planets in our system - besides Renelan, of course. They'll tell us how they came to be here soon enough. At the moment, we shouldn't lose any time."

Malcolm threw Trip a relieved glance, and Trip nodded. It was obvious that the Renelans had made contact with alien species before. It seemed they were interacting on a more or less regular basis with the inhabitants of the other two M-class worlds Falik had mentioned. Still, Malcolm and he had to find out more about this culture before they told these people the whole truth, and for the moment the conclusions Falik had drawn would suffice, even though they were fallacious. But at least he had saved them from having to answer Salita's curious questions.

Trip rested his head on the padded seat, giving in to his exhaustion. He'd have liked to know where they were going, but it was getting harder and harder, keeping his eyes open. For the moment, he felt safe. He was glad Salita and Falik had found them, and were willing to help them as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And it was necessary for Malcolm to see a doctor as soon as possible. Trip swallowed at the thought, afraid of what might be awaiting Malcolm at the end of their flight.

Wearily, Malcolm stared out the window, watching the roofs passing by about five meters below. Most of the houses were white one-store buildings, and as far as he could see, they looked clean and well-kept. After a while the scenery changed, and vast corn fields replaced the buildings. Half an hour later they passed the fringes of a big town. The traffic was very heavy, flitters whizzing past in four, sometimes even five lanes. Malcolm didn't understand how the system worked, but Salita had no problems finding her way.

Falik turned around in his seat and smiled. "The large building over there is the provincial Health Center. I'm sure the doctors there will be able to help you."

"Thank you," Malcolm replied. "We appreciate your help."

"Don't mention it. It's always exciting, meeting visitors from Menaos or Alkira. It's been quite a long time ago since any guests showed up around here."

Salita sighed. "Well, offending foreign traders isn't exactly the best policy, but tell that to our Governor. I'm surprised Menaos and Alkira are still sending anyone at all. Are you merchants too?"

Malcolm nodded vaguely.

"I hope your cargo hasn't suffered too much damage. How long have you been out there in the desert?"

"Four days," Malcolm answered. "Our engines failed, but fortunately my friend was able to repair them."

"Four days out in the desert." Falik shook his head. "I'm not surprised you two look so beat." He looked up when Salita took the flitter down in front of the large building.

"We're there. I'll go inside and get someone. You'd better wake up your friend."

"I'm awake," Trip mumbled sleepily. He'd been listening to the last part of the conversation, and had been impressed by the polite diplomacy with which Malcolm had answered the couple's question. He regretted not being able to tell these people the truth, but it was too early to tell them where he and Malcolm really came from.

Trip blinked when a tall young man climbed into the flitter. He had fair, ash-blonde hair that touched his shoulders, and combined with his soft features it gave him an almost feminine appearance. The man threw a glance at Malcolm's dirty bandages, and frowned.

"Are you able to walk on your own?" he asked in a soft baritone.

Malcolm nodded. "I am, but my friend can't walk."

The stranger gestured at a young man who had followed him into the flitter to assist Malcolm. Then he turned to Trip, throwing a quick glance at the swollen leg and the deep cut that was barely hidden under the torn fabric of Trip's jeans. When the stranger lifted him up as effortlessly as if he were picking up a child, Trip decided that there was nothing feminine at all about the man's physical strength.

"Thanks!" he called back to Salita and Falik who both raised a hand, waving them goodbye.

They entered a large entrance hall and passed the desk where a middle aged receptionist was seated in front of several computers. There were two hallways leading away from the hall, and the stranger led his small group down the right corridor. After passing a long row of doors they finally entered a room which seemed to be a cross between a sickroom and a laboratory. The stranger lowered Trip onto a bed, then helped Malcolm lie down as well.

"I'm Jeren." He smiled at them. "What are your names?"

Malcolm introduced himself and Trip while Jeren had his assistant remove the bandages from the lieutenant's hands.

"I was told you've been out in the desert for four days?" he asked, filling two hyposprays and pressing one of them against Malcolm's neck. "Not the best place to be stranded on our world."

"Yes," Malcolm confirmed. "We had to make an emergency landing."

"Are you in pain?" Jeren asked.

"At the moment it's not too bad."

"Good. These burns are rather serious. I'll take care of them later. Our first priority has to be restoring your electrolyte metabolism." He turned to Trip, injecting him with the second hypospray. "You look exhausted."

"Yeah," Trip admitted. He was hardly able to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't go to sleep now. First he had to know what was going to happen to them. He couldn't just doze off, placing his health and well-being in the hands of someone he had only met a few minutes before.

Jeren smiled. "It's okay, you can go to sleep. There is nothing to worry about."

He pressed another hypo against Trip’s neck, and a moment later there was nothing Trip could do to fight the dark haze that was beginning to surround him. His last conscious thought was of Malcolm, and he wondered if his friend would still have his hands when he woke up again.

Jeren injected Malcolm with a sedative as well, then turned to his assistant, shaking his head. "Really, Kenan, those two are a sorry sight if I've ever seen one."

"Maybe we should go get the counselors," Kenan said, but Jeren shook his head emphatically.

"No, that won't be necessary. That one isn't in such a bad condition, he's just exhausted. Take a quick scan and then take care of the cut in his leg and the sunburn. I'll see what I can do about these hands."

Jeren checked that Malcolm was indeed fast asleep, then began to examine the lieutenant's hands, a worried look on his face.

"Jeren! Take a look at that." Kenan was holding a hand scanner in his outstretched hand.

"Not now, Kenan," Jeren waved him off. "I'm busy."

"It's important."

Kenan's excited tone of voice made the young doctor look up. Carefully, he laid Malcolm's hands back down on the bed and took the hand scanner. Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked up at his assistant, astonishment written all over his face.

"That's impossible. The scanner must be malfunctioning."

"I checked it three times. The readings are correct."

Jeren gave Trip a thoughtful look. "I need a full analysis," he decided. "Put him into the scanning tube for an overall diagnosis. But be careful that he doesn't wake up in the meantime."

"Of course."

"And Kenan..."

"Yes?"

"I'd like to keep this between the two of us, for the time being. As long as I don't know what exactly is going on here, I don't want anyone to know about this. Alright?"

The assistant's eyelids fluttered nervously, but then he nodded. "I won't tell anybody."

Doubtfully, Jeren watched his assistant who prepared Trip for a full body scan. For a moment the doctor's eyes came to rest on the still body, and he ran his teeth over his lower lip. Then Jeren turned back to Malcolm.

-###-

Trip awoke from the sound of a low voice. It took him only a few seconds to orient himself and to remember what had happened. He was still tired but in fact he felt much better than he had the last few days. He noticed that he was covered with a light yellow sheet, wearing only his skivvies and it felt as if someone had washed off the worst of the sand and grime while he had been unconscious. Trip lay silently, anxiously feeling every part of his body. The pain that had been tormenting him was gone. What a wonderful feeling. Trip looked at his arms and saw in astonishment that the sunburn was completely gone. His throat didn't feel sore anymore and the cracks in his lips were gone as well. Trip tried to sit up to have a look at his leg but he wasn't able to do so. His arms couldn't carry his weight, feeling as though they consisted of rubber. He sighed when he realized that his condition hadn't really changed. He was still weak. But his calf felt normal, without the painful stinging that had been bothering him the last few days.

He looked around the room. Malcolm was sleeping in the bed next to him. His arms were hidden under the sheets and Trip had no chance to see whether he still had his hands. He could only hope so.

Trip had no idea what time it was. The room had no windows and the lights were dimmed. He was sure he had slept for several hours. Trip concentrated on the quiet voice coming from the next room, and after a while he was able to understand what was being said.

"No, I don't want them to stay here. It's too dangerous."

Trip frowned. Dangerous? What was that supposed to mean? Were they in danger or were they considered a threat?

"If someone finds out, there will be a lot of trouble," the voice continued. "I would like to keep them out of sight." A short pause followed. "That's very kind of you. In about two or three hours, I think. Thank you. Bye."

The person on the phone had clearly been talking about him and Malcolm. But what about the danger the stranger had mentioned?

"Hey, you're awake!" The young doctor - Trip remembered he was called Jeren - entered the room. He took a glass of water from a table and offered it to Trip while he supported the engineer's back with one hand. "How do you feel?"

"Tired." Trip's hand trembled slightly, but he managed to drink the water without spilling it. It was cool and very refreshing. "What did you do?" he asked.

Jeren smiled. "We took care of your injuries, healed the cut in your calf as well as the cracks in your skin and your sunburn. By the way, the sunburn was rather serious. But I was able to lower your fever and block the infection. You had also contracted a rather bad case of conjunctivitis and I'm still trying to stabilize your drained body."

"Thank you. What about my friend?"

Jeren glanced at Malcolm. "He'll be okay."

"His hands?" Trip held his breath, anxiously watching the man before him.

The doctor smiled. "They proved quite a challenge. But I think a managed quite well."

"You're sayin' he won't lose them?"

"Exactly. One more treatment, perhaps two and they should be as good as new."

"That's... amazin'." Trip let out a deep breath. "This is really good news. I was afraid that..." Trip left the sentence unfinished.

"His injuries were very serious indeed. But our medical knowledge is very advanced. How come his hands were so badly burnt?"

"Malcolm landed our shuttle while the helm was burnin'."

"I see," Jeren mumbled and threw a glance at Malcolm. "Where are you from?"

Trip hesitated.

"You're not from Menaos and not from Alkira neither. You do look like people from our system but your blood is different and so is your nerve system. You're definitely not from here."

"No, we aren't," Trip admitted. He didn't know why but he trusted this young man despite of the phone call he had happened to overhear. He decided to tell him the truth. "We're from a planet called Earth."

"But you didn't come from there in a shuttle."

"Our ship is called Enterprise. I hope she's on her way to get us away from here. Our shuttle was pulled through an anomaly and was badly damaged. We had to try an emergency landin' in the desert."

"The two people who found you told us so. You were lucky. I guess you landed at the border of the desert."

"At the border?"

"Oh yes. In the middle of the desert, the solar radiation from our second sun is very strong. At this time of the year it gets as hot as 80 degrees celsius out there. A few thousand kilometers to the North the heat is much more bearable although it is still warm. When the sun reaches its highest orbit in a few weeks, temperatures will rise to about 120 degrees in the desert. No living being can bear such a heat."

"And there I was thinkin' it couldn't get any hotter," Trip mumbled.

"This sun is a curse for our planet. We can only live in a limited area where it doesn't shine most of the year. The habitable area is only about 800 kilometers in diameter."

"That's not much for a whole planet. I suppose this causes you a lot of problems."

Jeren nodded, but Trip had the feeling that he was very uncomfortable with this matter.

"What about you?" Jeren asked. "It's not because of this cut in your calf that you're not able to walk, is it? You can't move your legs. Am I right?"

Trip sighed. There was no fooling this man. "Yes, you are."

"And the trembling of your hands has nothing to do with these injuries either."

"That's correct as well."

Jeren chewed on his lower lip. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

The young doctor broke off when a soft moan came from the bed next to them. He stood up and went over there, patiently waiting until Malcolm opened his eyes.

"How are you?" he asked, smiling.

"I don't know," Malcolm muttered and blinked to clear his vision. "I feel okay."

Jeren fetched a glass of water and offered it to Malcolm. "Shall I help you or do you want to try on your own?"

Malcolm looked at him with big eyes, then sat up and pulled out his hands from under the sheets. He stared at them in disbelief. They were still bandaged and feeling a little numb, but he could move them and was able to bend his fingers without experiencing any pain.

Very cautiously, he closed his fingers around the glass of water and drank. "I don't believe it," he murmured. He looked at Trip. "Did you see that?"

"Yes Malcolm. It's great!"

Malcolm shut his eyes for a moment. His hands were going to heal. He didn't have to be afraid of losing them anymore. The relief was so overwhelming that he had to blink away some tears. He bit his lip to stop a silly grin that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was going to be fine. But what about Trip? He looked at his friend. "Can you..."

Trip knew what Malcolm was trying to ask without giving away too much about his condition. He nodded appeasingly.

"Good." Malcolm sighed in relief and lay back again, happily looking down at his hands.

Jeren had been patiently listening to their conversation, but now he joined in. "Listen, I'd like to make a suggestion," he told them. "You've been sleeping the whole afternoon and it's going to get dark in about an hour. This establishment isn't actually designed to keep people over night. You can stay here, of course, if you want, but my sister and I would be glad to invite you to our home until your ship arrives."

"Why?" Malcolm asked.

Jeren frowned. "What do you mean?"

"That's a very kind offer but why would you invite us? I mean, you don't know us. We're not even from your planet."

"That's right, but in the Renelan culture, hospitality is very important. Besides, you're both in need of rest, and as I said, this is not an ideal place for getting a good night's sleep. My sister Erianna loves to have guests in the house and she's very interested in everything concerning space and space travel. We would love to hear your story. How you happened to strand here on our planet, I mean. But I can understand if you don't trust us yet. If you prefer to stay here, I will remain with you through the night."

Malcolm glanced at Trip with a questioning look on his face. Trip shrugged. Reed was the security officer, it was his job to decide what to do. The phone call Trip had overheard came back to his mind. He supposed Jeren had been talking to his sister. The doctor seemed to be genuinely worried about them. Fact was, he'd helped Malcolm much more than Phlox would have ever been able to.

Malcolm had similar thoughts. "Please don't think I'm being overly suspicious," he said.

"That's okay." Jeren smiled. "It's always better to be cautious, especially when you're on an alien planet. But it's a fact that I can take far better care of your health if you'll agree to stay at my home. And you'll get some real food there as well."

Again Malcolm looked at Trip and this time the engineer nodded.

"We're very grateful," Malcolm said. "But we don't want to cause you any trouble."

"You won't. Erianna is looking forward to your visit. I guess she will ask you a thousand questions about your missions. Excuse me for a moment, I'll just check whether Kenan is back already. He took care of your clothes. Please don't try to get up yet, okay?"

Trip nodded. There was no way for him to get out of bed, anyway. Malcolm, however, sat up the moment Jeren left the room.

"What do you think of him?" he asked.

"I think he's okay."

"All the people here are so bloody friendly."

"And that's botherin' you? I'm glad they are."

"Me too, although I have a strange feeling."

"You always have strange feelings, Malcolm. I guess it's a necessary trait if you’re a security officer."

Malcolm didn’t seem amused. "I believe I don't have to remind you what has happened the last time I had a strange feeling."

Trip took a deep breath. "No, you don't. But I really think we can trust Jeren. That's what my feelings are tellin' me. And besides, what else can we do? We have to find someone we can trust here. Enterprise can be here tomorrow evening at the very earliest."

Malcolm nodded. A moment later the door opened and Jeren came back. He gave Malcolm his uniform and lay Trip's jeans and t-shirt on his bed.

"Look at that," Malcolm exclaimed. "The clothes look like new. Even the tears are gone."

"We have our possibilities," Jeren smiled. "Do you want me to help you?"

Malcolm cast his hands a doubtful look. "I believe I can manage on my own."

"You can try, of course. But be careful. Please tell me immediately when your hands begin to hurt." Jeren put a hand on Trip's back and helped him sit up. Trip closed his eyes as the world began to spin around him.

"Do you feel dizzy?" Jeren asked in a worried tone of voice.

"Yes." Trip swallowed and licked over his lips.

Jeren looked over his shoulder at Malcolm. "There is a glass of water standing on that table. Could you bring it over here, please?"

Malcolm, who was having a hard time trying to button up his shirt, nodded and walked on bare feet over to the table. Just to be sure he took the glass with both hands and brought it over to Trip. Trip wanted to take it but realized in astonishment that his arms were suddenly feeling way too heavy to do so.

"It's okay," Jeren said gently. "I'll help you." He held the glass to Trip's lips.

Malcolm frowned while Trip was drinking. "What's the matter with him?"

"I don't know," Jeren admitted. "I think he's just exhausted." Thoughtfully, the doctor looked down at Trip's legs. "I think we need to talk about this. But first I want to take you back to my house."

Jeren helped Trip with his t-shirt and pulled the jeans over his legs. Trip realized that Jeren knew all about his condition, and wondered what other examinations the doctor had conducted while he had been unconscious. After helping him and Malcolm with their socks and shoes, Jeren took a silvery disc from his computer station and put it in a bag together with some flasks and hyposprays.

"Ready?" he asked, putting the bag over his shoulder.

Trip bit his lip, but Jeren didn't hesitate even for a split second, picking him up as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "You'll manage on your own?" he asked in Malcolm's direction. When the lieutenant nodded he led them out the door and to a vehicle similar to the one in which they had been brought here. Carefully, he sat Trip down in one of the chairs and gestured to Malcolm to sit down as well.

The monotonous humming of the engines made Trip sleepy. He dozed a little, his thoughts returning to Malcolm. He was so grateful and relieved that his friend wasn't going to lose his hands. It seemed like luck was finally on their side, after all.

Malcolm, too, was thinking. Slightly worried, he looked over at Trip. The flight had exerted him very much but this time his body seemed to be able to cope with the strain. He only hoped that there were no more bad surprises waiting for them.

Malcolm looked up when the vehicle landed in a garden in front of a white building. Gently he touched Trip's arm. "I think we're there."

TBC

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