Chapter 20 – “Sokath, his Eyes Uncovered”
“To be alive at all is to have scars.” - John Steinbeck
Stardate 54839.0 (6 November 2377)
Starbase 66 - Medical Center, ICU Room 7
Next door to the slumbering Tess Edwards, Malan Wright also lay in a bio-bed. Like Edwards, his vital signs were in the normal range and the frostbite healed. In fact, every indication showed him to be a healthy six-year old little boy.
Except for the apparent lack of brain activity. He was as unresponsive as Lt. Edwards.
Malan’s mother, Ensign Kaylee Wright, kept a constant vigil at her son’s bedside. His father, D’Aren, sat on the opposite side, his head down and his gaze unfocused.
The Wrights were elated when they learned their son had been found alive. But that elation faded as Malan remained comatose. Dr. Menendez, the pediatric neurologist, was “cautiously optimistic,” assuring the Wrights that they were doing “everything possible,” but “there was so much we still don’t know about the brain,” . . . blah, blah, blah.
They learned that Malan’s rescuer, Lt. Edwards, was in the next room, also unresponsive. Certainly, they were beyond grateful for her actions, but D’Aren was growing more impatient over the lack of answers. The Chief of Security provided nothing other than platitudes and excuses about how “the investigation was on-going.”
He’d seen the man that kept watch over Lt. Edwards and once intended to confront him for answers.
Kaylee had gently but firmly dissuaded him from that course of action. “We don’t know who he is, D’Aren . . . he might be her husband or other family member. Please, leave him alone.”
D’Aren relented, but he thought the man probably knew something. He was disheveled as if he’d been through an ordeal himself. . . perhaps the same ordeal as Lt. Edwards. . . and Malan.
Kaylee’s focus was on her little boy. She gently stroked Malan’s dark hair and crooned softly a song she’d sang to him whenever he was sad or scared.
"Close your eyes
Have no fear
The monster's gone
He's on the run and your mommy and daddy’are here
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy"
* * *
Stardate: Unknown
Location: Unknown
As Tess and Malan entered the wooded area, the boy paused. Edwards continued forward a few steps before realizing that Malan had stopped.
“Malan?”
“Don’t you hear it?” he asked, looking around. He frowned in concentration.
Edwards listened. But all she could hear was the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. “Buddy, I don’t know what you’re hearing.”
The child stood still and closed his eyes in concentration. Suddenly, his eyes flew open and his face broke into a happy grin.
“Mommy!”
And Malan Wright began to fade. Tess moved toward him in a panic, but before she could reach him, the boy vanished, leaving Edwards alone in the woods.
* * *
Stardate 54839.1 (6 November 2377)
Starbase 66 - Medical Center, ICU Room 7
Ensign Wright continued to sing softly to her little boy as her tears blurred her eyes. She didn’t notice Malan’s eyes flutter, then open.
“Mommy?”
Kaylee gasped with joyous surprise. D’Aren stood so quickly his chair fell over.
“Malan! Baby, you’re awake!” She exclaimed, tears streaming down her face.
“Hey, little man! Welcome back!” said D’Aren, his own joyful tears now falling.
* * *
Stardate: Unknown
Location: Unknown
“Malan! Where are you?” Edwards called. She was torn between hope and despair. Hope in that the boy was truly united with his family. Despair in that she now was alone with no idea how to return home.
She laughed bitterly. Considering all that transpired over her brief time on Starbase 66, it was hard to think of it as home. Yet it somehow rang true. Her recent memories were cloudy, especially regarding the ordeal with Malan Wright. Edwards vaguely recalled intense cold and pain. She recalled a river and . . .
. . . and something beyond terrifying. Maybe that memory was best left alone.
That also rang true, and she shivered even though the temperature was warm and pleasant.
Her mind returned to the figure that entered the forest ahead of them. “Maybe he can help . . . assuming I can find him.”
Edwards set off in the general direction she thought the man had gone.
* * *
She wasn’t sure how long she walked, but the woods seemed endless . . . strange, considering that when she first saw it from the grassy plain it didn’t appear very large. Now it seemed vast, endless.
At least she didn’t feel tired. The woods were pleasant. It reminded her of an old poem by Robert Frost, at least the last stanza . . .
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
But unlike the woods in Frost’s poem, there was (thankfully) no snow, nor was it dark. It was certainly lovely and deep . . . very deep.
Edwards had no sense of time passing. She might have walked for hours or days. The sun remained in the same place in the sky and her steady pace never faltered. It was quiet, save for the breeze though the leaves. There was no bird song, no chitter of squirrels, just an eerie, seemingly endless calm.
And then, she stepped into a clearing and stopped, surprised and shocked by what she saw.
There was a bio-bed in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by grass and wild flowers. A man was seated, his back to her. He was leaning over the bed, his attention focused on the bed’s occupant.
Edwards felt like an intruder, despite the incongruity of the scene before her.
“Listen, Tess Edwards,” said a familiar voice.
She turned to see Trevor Harney standing by her.
“Listen? All I hear is the rustle of leaves. Where have you been, Harney?”
The ancient Aborigine wore a gentle smile. “I’ve been busy.” He gestured to the bed and the man. “You’ll need to get closer to hear.”
She hesitated. For some reason, she was suddenly afraid to approach.
“I . . . don’t know . . .”
Harney nodded. “You have hidden things away from yourself. And you fear if you go back, you might remember.”
Tess swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. But you don’t want to.” He gestured again toward the center of the clearing. “Draw closer . . . and listen.”
Harney had not steered her wrong so far. She was pretty sure he had saved her from something terrible. Steeling herself, she slowly walked toward the center of the clearing, circling to see the man and the occupant of the bed . . .
. . . and saw herself lying there, apparently unconscious. Todd Stillman was in the chair. He appeared worn and haggard, his expression that of exhausted worry.
Stillman drew closer to her sleeping form and began to speak, but Edwards couldn’t hear him. Edwards turned back to Harney, a questioning look on her face.
“Listen!” He said. It was an order, not a suggestion.
Exasperated, she sighed and turned back to the bed. Cautiously, she moved closer, standing opposite Stillman. She avoided looking at herself . . . that was a level of weirdness she didn’t care for.
Stillman’s lips were moving, but she still couldn’t hear him. The SCIS agent stopped, appearing at a loss for words. He scooted the chair closer, then he reached out and took the bed bound Tess by the hand . . .
. . . and Edwards could hear.
At first, Stillman rambled on about himself, his early life, education, his career in Starfleet before joining SCIS. As he spoke, the surrounding woods began to fade and walls appeared.
Stillman began to speak of his late wife, how they met, the plans for a future family, then the grief he endured with her tragic death.
Edwards was moved by the depth of Stillman’s sorrow as a tear escaped her eye . . .
And suddenly, she was lying in a bio-bed. She felt the warm pressure of Stillman’s hand grasping hers, along with a level of fatigue she had never experienced. Her mouth was dry and her head ached as Stillman continued to speak, now of recent events on the Starbase.
“For God’s sake, Stillman,” she rasped, “Would you please shut up so I can rest.”
* * *
“To be alive at all is to have scars.” - John Steinbeck
Stardate 54839.0 (6 November 2377)
Starbase 66 - Medical Center, ICU Room 7
Next door to the slumbering Tess Edwards, Malan Wright also lay in a bio-bed. Like Edwards, his vital signs were in the normal range and the frostbite healed. In fact, every indication showed him to be a healthy six-year old little boy.
Except for the apparent lack of brain activity. He was as unresponsive as Lt. Edwards.
Malan’s mother, Ensign Kaylee Wright, kept a constant vigil at her son’s bedside. His father, D’Aren, sat on the opposite side, his head down and his gaze unfocused.
The Wrights were elated when they learned their son had been found alive. But that elation faded as Malan remained comatose. Dr. Menendez, the pediatric neurologist, was “cautiously optimistic,” assuring the Wrights that they were doing “everything possible,” but “there was so much we still don’t know about the brain,” . . . blah, blah, blah.
They learned that Malan’s rescuer, Lt. Edwards, was in the next room, also unresponsive. Certainly, they were beyond grateful for her actions, but D’Aren was growing more impatient over the lack of answers. The Chief of Security provided nothing other than platitudes and excuses about how “the investigation was on-going.”
He’d seen the man that kept watch over Lt. Edwards and once intended to confront him for answers.
Kaylee had gently but firmly dissuaded him from that course of action. “We don’t know who he is, D’Aren . . . he might be her husband or other family member. Please, leave him alone.”
D’Aren relented, but he thought the man probably knew something. He was disheveled as if he’d been through an ordeal himself. . . perhaps the same ordeal as Lt. Edwards. . . and Malan.
Kaylee’s focus was on her little boy. She gently stroked Malan’s dark hair and crooned softly a song she’d sang to him whenever he was sad or scared.
"Close your eyes
Have no fear
The monster's gone
He's on the run and your mommy and daddy’are here
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy"
* * *
Stardate: Unknown
Location: Unknown
As Tess and Malan entered the wooded area, the boy paused. Edwards continued forward a few steps before realizing that Malan had stopped.
“Malan?”
“Don’t you hear it?” he asked, looking around. He frowned in concentration.
Edwards listened. But all she could hear was the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. “Buddy, I don’t know what you’re hearing.”
The child stood still and closed his eyes in concentration. Suddenly, his eyes flew open and his face broke into a happy grin.
“Mommy!”
And Malan Wright began to fade. Tess moved toward him in a panic, but before she could reach him, the boy vanished, leaving Edwards alone in the woods.
* * *
Stardate 54839.1 (6 November 2377)
Starbase 66 - Medical Center, ICU Room 7
Ensign Wright continued to sing softly to her little boy as her tears blurred her eyes. She didn’t notice Malan’s eyes flutter, then open.
“Mommy?”
Kaylee gasped with joyous surprise. D’Aren stood so quickly his chair fell over.
“Malan! Baby, you’re awake!” She exclaimed, tears streaming down her face.
“Hey, little man! Welcome back!” said D’Aren, his own joyful tears now falling.
* * *
Stardate: Unknown
Location: Unknown
“Malan! Where are you?” Edwards called. She was torn between hope and despair. Hope in that the boy was truly united with his family. Despair in that she now was alone with no idea how to return home.
She laughed bitterly. Considering all that transpired over her brief time on Starbase 66, it was hard to think of it as home. Yet it somehow rang true. Her recent memories were cloudy, especially regarding the ordeal with Malan Wright. Edwards vaguely recalled intense cold and pain. She recalled a river and . . .
. . . and something beyond terrifying. Maybe that memory was best left alone.
That also rang true, and she shivered even though the temperature was warm and pleasant.
Her mind returned to the figure that entered the forest ahead of them. “Maybe he can help . . . assuming I can find him.”
Edwards set off in the general direction she thought the man had gone.
* * *
She wasn’t sure how long she walked, but the woods seemed endless . . . strange, considering that when she first saw it from the grassy plain it didn’t appear very large. Now it seemed vast, endless.
At least she didn’t feel tired. The woods were pleasant. It reminded her of an old poem by Robert Frost, at least the last stanza . . .
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
But unlike the woods in Frost’s poem, there was (thankfully) no snow, nor was it dark. It was certainly lovely and deep . . . very deep.
Edwards had no sense of time passing. She might have walked for hours or days. The sun remained in the same place in the sky and her steady pace never faltered. It was quiet, save for the breeze though the leaves. There was no bird song, no chitter of squirrels, just an eerie, seemingly endless calm.
And then, she stepped into a clearing and stopped, surprised and shocked by what she saw.
There was a bio-bed in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by grass and wild flowers. A man was seated, his back to her. He was leaning over the bed, his attention focused on the bed’s occupant.
Edwards felt like an intruder, despite the incongruity of the scene before her.
“Listen, Tess Edwards,” said a familiar voice.
She turned to see Trevor Harney standing by her.
“Listen? All I hear is the rustle of leaves. Where have you been, Harney?”
The ancient Aborigine wore a gentle smile. “I’ve been busy.” He gestured to the bed and the man. “You’ll need to get closer to hear.”
She hesitated. For some reason, she was suddenly afraid to approach.
“I . . . don’t know . . .”
Harney nodded. “You have hidden things away from yourself. And you fear if you go back, you might remember.”
Tess swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. But you don’t want to.” He gestured again toward the center of the clearing. “Draw closer . . . and listen.”
Harney had not steered her wrong so far. She was pretty sure he had saved her from something terrible. Steeling herself, she slowly walked toward the center of the clearing, circling to see the man and the occupant of the bed . . .
. . . and saw herself lying there, apparently unconscious. Todd Stillman was in the chair. He appeared worn and haggard, his expression that of exhausted worry.
Stillman drew closer to her sleeping form and began to speak, but Edwards couldn’t hear him. Edwards turned back to Harney, a questioning look on her face.
“Listen!” He said. It was an order, not a suggestion.
Exasperated, she sighed and turned back to the bed. Cautiously, she moved closer, standing opposite Stillman. She avoided looking at herself . . . that was a level of weirdness she didn’t care for.
Stillman’s lips were moving, but she still couldn’t hear him. The SCIS agent stopped, appearing at a loss for words. He scooted the chair closer, then he reached out and took the bed bound Tess by the hand . . .
. . . and Edwards could hear.
At first, Stillman rambled on about himself, his early life, education, his career in Starfleet before joining SCIS. As he spoke, the surrounding woods began to fade and walls appeared.
Stillman began to speak of his late wife, how they met, the plans for a future family, then the grief he endured with her tragic death.
Edwards was moved by the depth of Stillman’s sorrow as a tear escaped her eye . . .
And suddenly, she was lying in a bio-bed. She felt the warm pressure of Stillman’s hand grasping hers, along with a level of fatigue she had never experienced. Her mouth was dry and her head ached as Stillman continued to speak, now of recent events on the Starbase.
“For God’s sake, Stillman,” she rasped, “Would you please shut up so I can rest.”
* * *
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