Blue on Blue

Chapter Ten

So, it was Jonathan who had gotten the canister to the spot near the entrance.  What if he had disappeared on his way back to the cave and Trip remembered nothing because, in all actuality, that was what he knew. 

Then this meld had been a misdirection of minutes that could have been given to a direct search for the captain or the medical aid for Commander Tucker.  So much useless effort had been expended to find only that they were somewhere in the grey again. 

There was a sense that her hands- rather, that their hands- hers and Trip’s- were wielding the blade again, though she could no longer name the color of its beam or the frequency and dimensions of its setting.  In alternating sequences of motion, their fingers gathered rocks, some smooth with sharp edges and all probably with assigned color names and mineral classifications, then dropping them into a wide mouthed container.  Were they called Cy- Cyrul-something?   

So grey.  Nothing but grey and a dripping coldness.  There was a break in the rhythm as an impatient hand raised, swatted at the drip.  With dreamlike slowness, she and Trip got to their feet.  “How?” He muttered.  “Can that water miss the helmet and go right for the back of my neck!”

Were they walking?  Going to a new location, maybe?  The movements were so slow, it was hard to know what they were doing, except that Trip was groaning in her head. 

No, not Trip.  That was her own groaning she heard. 

So, so tired…

Was she tormenting both of them for no purpose?  Sifting for nothing through Trip’s damaged  memories?

“…and I did save you a cup!”  Jonathan was standing over them, grinning and holding out the tall metal cylinder of coffee as he gazed at the canister.  “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

How long had he been gone? 

No idea.

How long had he been back?

Trip deactivated the blade and set it down.  When had its light begun to shine out of the grey again? 

Events were certainly becoming less cohesive.

Trip reached for the cylinder, unscrewed the top, took a deep, savoring inhalation of an aroma that made T’Pol’s nose wrinkle.  She distracted herself from the bitter taste of the brew by watching Jonathan crouch to examine the contents of the sample case.  He appeared undamaged and unconcerned by anything in the immediate surroundings.  There was still no clue as to what the danger would be.

“You call this a cup!” Trip said, a note of surprise rising in his voice.  “I’d call it two or three swallows!  You drank all that coffee and you didn’t blast off to the ship without needing the shuttle-pod?”

Jonathan looked up from the sample case.  “No.  I didn’t touch yours!  I figured we could use it on the way back.  This was what was left in my pack.  You want me to lock these down yet?”

“Yeah, thanks.  The samples are done.  I’ll get these last few crystals and we can head out.”  Trip tipped back the cylinder for a last bitter black swallow, screwed the lid  on and passed it to the captain.  “Did you reach the ship?”

“Too much interference.”  Jonathan locked down the lid on the sample case with an audible click, then rose and moving to his own pack, slid the coffee cylinder inside.  “We can try them from the shuttle-pod when we get there.  Probably have better results.”

Trip picked up the blade.  “Give me five minutes, Captain.”

“No problem. Do what you need.” Jonathan swung the pack over his shoulder.  “I’ll make one more quick survey here.  The mineral signature changes in a kilometer or so.  Our science officer has been running a comparative analysis of planets of this general make-up.  She says it may come in handy as a basis for future route planning in this sector.” 

Trip grinned as a warm wave of secret pleasure washed over him.  It had something to do with saying her name and the happy shape it would make on his lips.  It brought an association with amazing gentleness combined with the fun of sharp witted conversations and memories of a long, sweet night.  It was as odd and disconcerting an awareness as when she’d seen herself through his eyes.

“Somehow,” Trip watched Jonathan activate his scanner.  “I just never quite pictured T’Pol using the word ‘handy’.” 

“Well, something to that effect,” Jonathan flashed a quick grin that said quite a bit about what he’d seen in Trip’s expression.  Then he was turning and making his way down the winding path.

Memory clicked into crystal-sharp focus.  Adrenaline surged.  Now!  Now!  It’s going to be now-!