May Writing Challenge: ENT - It's not heights, it's depths

[trampledamage]

May Writing Challenge: Beginnings.
3728 words
NOTE: This is too long for one post, so the second half of the story follows on in the next post.



Earth, England, 2139


Malcolm Reed sat down on the bench over-looking the harbour. He kept close watch on the sailing boat berthed three down from the harbour wall. At any moment he expected a shout to come up, calling out for him, but for now it appeared his escape had been successful and no-one had noticed his absence.

He sighed, anyone else would have had the guts to say to their father that they didn't like sailing and didn't want to go on the school boating holiday. But then, anyone else didn't have to deal with The Proud Naval Tradition of the Reed family - even in his mind, Malcolm heard the phrase as his father said it, as something to be considered more important than life itself. Even Uncle Arthur who was scared of water believed in it, becoming a sub-mariner until he died when the engine compartment flooded.

Malcolm shivered, what was he going to do when he left school? He couldn't face joining the Navy, but his father wouldn't let him do anything else. Malcolm felt his stomach churn as it always did when he thought about his future.

Malcolm continued to watch the boat, his eyes constantly moving, watching his class-mates clambering inexpertly over the deck. He smiled sadly, he could move on a boat as smoothly and easily as on land, he just didn't like it.

At first Malcolm didn't process what he was seeing, but his view kept being drawn back to the aft section of the deck. All of the kids from his class were up at the fore-end, there wasn't anything happening aft, but there was something attracting his attention, something niggling his sub-conscious, something that shouldn't be there.

Then he realised what it was, and he was half way down the harbour steps before the coherent thought had formed in his head - a heat haze shimmering off the surface of the deck. This was Portsmouth harbour in February, there should be no heat - which could only mean that the engine on the boat was over-loading somehow. He was all the way down the steps and pounding his way down the jetty shouting at his friends to get off the boat when the second coherent thought formed in his head, 'you idiot, now father's going to find out you tried to miss the trip'.

Malcolm leapt over the side of the foredeck, "There's an engine fire," he shouted, "You've all got to get off the boat. NOW!"

Everyone started milling around, some panicking, some not believing him. Malcolm saw his friend James and pulled him over, "James, there's heat coming off the aft deck," he explained quietly, "That has to be the engine. We've got to get everyone off the boat."

James nodded, and went immediately to the deck-rail and started helping people climb off the boat.

"We need to evacuate," Malcolm called out more calmly, "Everyone remember the drill, form up two lines, start climbing off."

At these clear instructions, everyone calmed down and began to move off the boat, an evacuation drill was a familiar task for them all.

Malcolm looked around and realised someone was missing, "Where's Mr Thompson?" he called over to James.

James looked behind him, back to the aft deck. "He was sorting out the engine." James looked over to Malcolm, they both knew that if he could have got out, he would have.

Malcolm swallowed, took a deep breath and said as calmly as he could manage, "Once everyone's off the boat, get them to go up onto the harbour wall. Then find the harbour master. I'll go below and get Mr Thompson."

James nodded, and turned to concentrate on keeping everyone else moving.

Malcolm turned quickly and ran over to the door that lead down to the lower section of the boat, he pulled it open and ran down the steps. The sleeping quarters lay behind him, ahead was the galley and then the engine. Making his way through the galley, Malcolm could feel the heat and he started to cough. Gas fumes were choking him. He pulled off his jersey and wet it in the sink, then tied it as best he could around his face. Then he forced himself to push forward to the engine room. The door was burning hot, Malcolm covered his hand with the bottom of his t-shirt to open the door, and even then he felt his skin blistering. Pushing the door inwards, Malcolm was blasted by a wall of heat that made him step backwards. Tightening his jersey around his face and shielding his eyes, he pushed through into the room. Barely able to open his eyes in the heat, Malcolm could see the engine core was glowing red from the heat. He couldn't tell what had sent the engine into over-drive but Malcolm knew it was only a matter of time before the heat caused the gas to explode. He shivered, but knew he couldn't leave yet. He was just able to make out the shape of his teacher's body on the floor. Malcolm staggered over, and felt for a pulse. Mr Thompson was still alive, but he was unconscious. Malcolm would have to drag him out. Hooking his hands under Mr Thompson's armpits, Malcolm started to pull his teacher towards the door.

Malcolm was beginning to feel dizzy and faint, black spots were flashing in his eyes, but he would not stop. Inch by inch, he dragged his teacher back out of the engine room. By this stage the galley was also searing hot and full of fumes - one spark would cause the whole boat to explode, so Malcolm dared not stop, even for a second's rest. He gritted his teeth against the screaming agony in his arms, his skin burning from the heat and the muscles straining from the weight of the body. He went up the steps onto the deck backwards, bracing himself against the wall as with each step he pulled up Mr Thompson a little further. He didn't stop until he was able to pull Mr Thompson all the way up onto the deck, only then did he allow himself to collapse down onto his knees, tear off the jersey around his mouth and take delicious gulps of the fresh sea air.

Looking over to the harbour, he could see James earnestly talking to Phil Avery the harbour-master. Malcolm longed just to lie down and wait for them to arrive, but he knew he couldn't. He had no idea how long it would be before something caused the fumes to ignite and engulf the whole boat in flames. He pushed himself back up onto his feet and grabbed Mr Thompson once more. He pulled his teacher's body to the forward end of the deck, which was the part closest to the harbour jetty. Malcolm had no strength left in him to lift his teacher, so he levered the body over the deck-railings, legs first, then back and then the arms and head. He let the body drop onto the wooden planks of the dock, and then levered himself over the same way.

Malcolm had just got his feet touching the ground, when he felt a slight ripple in the air, and then a whompf as down in the engine room, all the gas fumes ignited in a fire-ball. He felt himself lift into the air and then nothing. Everything went black.

Phil Avery was running along the jetty with a fire extinguisher when the boat exploded. He skidded to a stop and watched in horror as the force of the explosion lifted Malcolm into the air and slammed him down onto the wooden jetty. He shook off his horror, and continued running calling back over his shoulder for the paramedics. They quickly followed him and covered Malcolm's back and arms with a healing salve. When Malcolm came to, they had him bundled into a protective blanket and had lifted him up into the ambulance. He tried to sit up, but that lit up all his nerve endings and he fell back with a gasp.

"How's Mr Thompson?" he whispered.

"Doing fine, you saved his life and probably the lives of everyone else on that boat. You're a hero." said the paramedic.

The ambulance rocked slightly as another person climbed into the vehicle. Malcolm looked over, moving only his eyes, it was Constable Gillis.

"Yes you are, Malcolm." Gillis said, "Your dad will be proud of you!"

Malcolm just sighed, somehow he doubted that's how things would turn out.

* * *

 

[trampledamage]

Part 2

Malcolm was released from hospital that evening. The healing salve had worked its magic, and his grafts of NewSkin had settled in well enough that the doctors allowed him to go home to rest. Constable Gillis took him home.

Malcolm's mother Mary was waiting at the door when they arrived, when Malcolm got out of Gillis's police car she ran down the path and enveloped him in a hug.

"Oh Malcolm," she cried, "I've been so worried."

Malcolm wriggled, "Careful Mum, the NewSkin's still healing."

"You needed skin? How badly were you hurt?" She started to lead him inside, "Come on inside and I'll make some tea. You come on in too Jeff," she said to Gillis who followed them into the house.

Malcolm's father, Stuart, was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newsfeed when Mary ushered Malcolm and Gillis inside. He stood up and shook Gillis's hand.

"Good to see you again Jeff. Thank you for bringing Malcolm home."

Gillis pulled out a chair and sat down, "No problem, Stuart, I was there anyway. Your boy's a hero you know. Saved the lives of everyone on that boat."

Malcolm stayed standing, feeling awkward. Stuart looked over at him silently, then turned back to Gillis, "Yes, we'd heard." he said, "Phil Avery was the duty harbour-master, he came round."

Stuart looked over at Malcolm again. Gillis realised that he was sitting in the middle of an argument. He stood up and turned to Mary who was bustling about sorting out teacups.

"Well, thanks Mary but I won't stay for tea, best be getting back on duty." He gave her a hug, "Look after your boy," he said with a smile, "he'll be in a lot of pain for a day or two, even if he won't admit it."

"And he won't," Mary agreed, "Just like his dad. I'll see you to the door then." And she led him out of the kitchen.

Stuart continued to watch Malcolm as Mary and Gillis left, Malcolm continued to stand silently by the wall.

"You know what Phil Avery said?" Stuart said eventually. "It was lucky, he said. Lucky you weren't on that boat with the other children. Lucky!"

Malcolm didn't say anything.

"You weren't going to go on the trip, were you?" Stuart kept his voice quiet, but Malcolm could feel the anger burning through his father. "What were you thinking, that you could just bum around Portsmouth for the day, and then come home with everyone else?"

Malcolm shrugged.

"GOD-DAMMIT Malcolm!" Stuart lost his temper and banged his reader off the table. "You may be a hero today, but if you don't buck your ideas up you will be a layabout for the rest of your life!"

Malcolm didn't say anything.

Stuart sighed and picked up his reader. He started to read the news-feed, and without looking up, said, "Go to your room."

Malcolm left.

He was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling when he heard footsteps outside his door. They slowed down and then stopped as the person outside tried to decide whether to disturb him or not. Malcolm sighed, "Come on in, mum" he called.

Mary opened the door and stepped in, she sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his arm gently. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Malcolm smiled, "Not too bad. Bit stupid for getting so badly burned, but otherwise okay."

"When Phil told us what had happened, I was so proud of you. You really are a hero!"

Malcolm soghed, "I don't feel like one. Too scared to go on the boat trip, not able to think of anything to do once I leave school."

"Don't worry, you'll think of something. No-one's life is perfectly mapped out. Your father's just worried about you, he means well he just doesn't show it properly."

"I know mum, don't worry."

Mary stood up, "He was really pleased when Phil told us the story, he was impressed by what you'd done."

Malcolm smiled, "Thanks mum."

* * *

The next morning, Phil Avery was sitting at a back table of the Fisherman's Cafe eating a fry when he saw Malcolm walk in. A short man, but broad and burly, Phil had worked on the sea all his life, first as a fisherman then harbour-master. He and Malcolm got on well; he didn’t talk much and didn’t mind that Malcolm didn’t either. Silence suited them both. Phil wasn't surprised to see Malcolm come in, they were both regular customers and he watched silently as Malcolm got his tea and toast and took it over to one of the window tables. Phil finished his own breakfast and went over to Malcolm's table, sitting down across from him.

"Morning, lad." He said cheerfully, "You got any plans for the day?"

Malcolm shook his head. "I've the day off from school," he said round a mouthful of toast, "To rest and recover from the burns."

Phil grinned, "Aye, you are looking a bit peaky. Come on down to the harbour office, you can rest there."

Malcolm took a last mouthful of tea and followed Phil out of the cafe and down the harbour steps. For all that he hated the sea, Malcolm had always loved boats and the harbour. His father had never figured it out, but he spent most of his hours away from the house here at the harbour, working with Phil. He sighed, what was he going to do after his exams, and how was he going to convince his father that there were other careers than the Navy.

Phil understood him, and welcomed him at the office but never expected him to go out to sea. Truth be told, there was always plenty of work in the harbour itself, and Malcolm more than pulled his weight as a helper and earned his right to sit in the harbour office.

"What do you need doing today, Phil?" Malcolm asked.

"That section of the dock where the boat exploded yesterday needs fixing, I put boards down but we need to do it properly. I was hoping I'd find you, it's going to be easier with two of us. Hang on while I make a comm-call and then we'll set to it"

Phil and Malcolm worked in easy companionship for the morning, replacing the wooden boards of the dock. They worked well together, with a grace born out of long practice. It was approaching mid-day when Phil stood up and looking at the work they had completed, said, "All right Malcolm, we'll knock off there for now. We need to give these boards time to settle in before adding the all-weather coating. Let's get a cuppa in the office."

Malcolm followed Phil to the office. When they got there, he was surprised to see a man in a uniform waiting for them. Malcolm was also interested to note that Phil was not surprised to see the man. He wondered who on earth the man could be, he didn't recognise the uniform. It wasn't the uniform of any of the military branches he knew of, it did look familiar though, so maybe he'd seen it on a newsfeed.

The man stepped forward, "You must be Malcolm Reed." He held out his hand, Malcolm shook it politely but did not speak. The man smiled, "Phil told me you were careful. My name is Admiral Forrest, I'd like to talk to you."

He walked into the office, Malcolm looked over to Phil who smiled and said, "Trust me. I think you might like what the Admiral has to say. He's an old friend of mine. Now, I'm off to do the rounds of the boats, I'll be on the dock somewhere if you need me."

Malcolm watched Phil leave, then turned and went into the office.

Admiral Forrest had pulled Phil's chair from behind the desk and placed it next to the only other chair in the room. He was sitting waiting for Malcolm. Malcolm watched him from the doorway for a moment - he was taller than Malcolm, and broad-shouldered, with neatly clipped grey hair and a weather-beaten face. Malcolm smiled to himself, his father would be very impressed by this Admiral Malcolm saw that Forrest was watching him, and he realised that Forrest knew that Malcolm was sizing him up in his mind and was letting him get on with it. Malcolm was intrigued by Forrest's sense of certainty about himself.

"Why don't you want to join the Navy?" Forrest asked, with no preamble.

Malcolm blinked and didn't respond, he sat down and then asked "Do you know my father?"

If Forrest was surprised by this question in return, it didn't show. "No," he replied, "No I don't. I know Phil though, we were at college together, and he thought you might like to work for me. But I'd like to know first, why don't you want to join the Navy. Scared of water? Afraid of authority?"

Malcolm shook his head and sighed. Phil better be right about trusting him, he thought to himself. Then he decided, why not talk to this man - after all, he was possibly offering a job.

He spoke lightly and was careful to keep emotion out of his voice, "I have lost one grandfather, one uncle and two aunts to drowning because they served in the Navy. I am not afraid of water, and I'm not afraid of authority, but I do not want to drown."

"Interesting," Forrest said quietly, "and are you afraid of dying in general?"

Malcolm shrugged, "Haven't thought about it really. I'm careful in my life, I don't take foolish risks, and I plan to live long enough to retire in a cottage by the sea and listen to the cricket on the live-feed."

Forrest smiled, "An admirable plan."

Forrest watched Malcolm in silence, sizing him up in the same way that he'd let Malcolm do to him at the beginning of their conversation. Malcolm waited him out, wondering if he'd pass muster for whatever decision Forrest was making.

"Would you like to work in space?" Forrest asked.

Malcolm was beginning to realise that asking abrupt questions was a habit of Forrest's. This one, he decided to answer directly.

"I'd love to." he paused, putting together all the information he'd got, "Are you from Starfleet?" he asked incredulously.

Forrest smiled and nodded, "Yes I am. Phil says you're a born officer and I believe him. We need men like you. We're within a few years of launching our own warp-capable vessel and we need the best and the brightest to crew her. What do you say?"

Malcolm was flabbergasted, this he definitely did not expect. But he knew, without doubt, what his answer was.

"When do I leave?"

Forrest laughed, stood up and clapped Malcolm on the shoulder. "We can wait until your exams are over. I'll get the recruitment people to send you the details. Good to have met you, Mr Reed."

Malcolm stood up, "And you too sir. I hope to be working with you soon."

Forrest smiled, "That's the spirit."

He left Malcolm standing in the office, still trying to process what had just happened, a large grin growing on his face. Phil popped his head round the door, and laughed when he saw the grin.

"I knew you'd be pleased!" he said, "now come on back to work. One of the yachts has hit a bollard and it's got a hole a metre wide in its side."

* * *

For the first time in a very long time, Malcolm was excited about going home. He ran into the house and bumped into his mother in the hallway. He grasped her round the middle, "Mum, is father home?"

Mary was stunned at the enthusiasm from her usually stoic son. "Yes, he's in the back garden."

"Great," he took her hand and lead her through the kitchen to the back door of the house, "Come on mum, I've got news for both of you."

Stuart looked up when Malcolm came running up to the sunchairs. He put down his news-reader and waited for Malcolm to speak.

"I met Admiral Forrest from Starfleet today, he's offered me a place in officer training college once I've done my exams!" Malcolm said all in a rush.

"Oh, my dear, that's wonderful!" Mary exclaimed and gave Malcolm a hug. "I'm so proud! Aren't you, dear?"

She looked at Stuart, expecting him to be as pleased as she was that their son had found a military career. Both she and Malcolm grew still as they realised that Stuart was not impressed.

"Starfleet's a fly-by-night organisation that won't even be here by next year." he said repressively, "They have no ships and no mandate. I don't know who it is who sold you this pipe dream, but it's hogwash. Just the sort of thing foolish boys like you believe in."

Malcolm was stunned, he thought he was used to his father's inability to approve of anything he did, but he really thought this time his father would be impressed. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

"You're wrong," he said quietly, "Starfleet is the future. And that is where I am going. With your permission or not."

Stuart looked at him steadily, and then picked up his news-reader again. "Call me when it's dinner-time, Mary."

* * *

The morning after his last exam, Malcolm rose early, wrote a short letter for his mother and propped it next to the kettle where he knew she'd see it. He picked up his backpack that he'd packed the night before, let himself out of the house and walked away without looking back once.

 

[Nerys Ghemor]

Very nice...you really brought some life into a character that often came across on ENT as stiff. And I think maybe now, we see the reason why he was that way.

 

[trampledamage]

That's what I was aiming for - glad you liked it

 

[Mistral]

OK, now I have to choose which to vote for-Damn you, I thought it was a no-brainer despite the large number of entries this month! This is a great take on Reed, much along the lines of the Arc of the Wolf treatment Steff has for Scotty. Excellent effort!

 

[trampledamage]

OK, now I have to choose which to vote for-Damn you, I thought it was a no-brainer despite the large number of entries this month! This is a great take on Reed, much along the lines of the Arc of the Wolf treatment Steff has for Scotty. Excellent effort!

Thanks!

After reading everyone else's entries (including yours) I'm not expecting any votes at all

Glad you liked the depiction of Reed - he was always my favourite character in Enterprise, I'd like to give him more life than he got to have on the show.

 

[perigee]

Excellent stuff - are you considering picking this up where you left off at some point, so we can follow him further? I'm definitely psyched for more!

 

[trampledamage]

Excellent stuff - are you considering picking this up where you left off at some point, so we can follow him further? I'm definitely psyched for more!

I do want to, but I'm really bad at continuing my stories! Maybe this one I'll actually manage

Glad you enjoyed it!

 

[perigee]

Hey - I'm NOT an ENT fan, precisely because this kind of meat wasn't on its bones. Keep writing, and maybe you'll give me a reason to take a second look - this time, through your eyes.

 

[BrotherBenny]

"I suppose the ocean wasn't big enough for him."

So much not said in those words, and you made it into a real story.

Great stuff.

 

[trampledamage]

Thanks!

For all the cringing embarrassment of the Hoshi figuring out what he likes aspect of that episode, I did like the insight into his character that we got from his family.

btw- just read your sig-line, I was wondering who this new guy "Brother Benny" was!

 

[Count Zero]

An excellent story, trampledamage. I like the insight we get into Malcom's past here. He didn't get much of that treatment in ENT. I'd like to read a follow-up on this story, too.

 

[CeJay]

A very plausible back story to this oftentimes introvert character. I thought the parents were a tiny bit cliched, the stiff upper lip British military father and the loving but somewhat powerless mother.

I still enjoyed this though especially dad's last line.

It all felt very traditional, clearly the vibe you were aiming for here. I would have liked to see a bit more about the time and place but that's just me. Or perhaps this is just one of those towns were time has stood still over the centuries.

A great origin story.

 

[BrotherBenny]

Thanks!

For all the cringing embarrassment of the Hoshi figuring out what he likes aspect of that episode, I did like the insight into his character that we got from his family.

btw- just read your sig-line, I was wondering who this new guy "Brother Benny" was!

I got bored with my previous name. Wanted something more dynamic.