Chapter Nineteen - Dear Kettle, Love Pot

T’Pol discreetly took a deep breath and prepared to start again from the beginning. Darala’s body language, what she could read of it, indicated that this fourth time through the evidence would be as unconvincing and unavailing as the previous three had been. For the first time since she’d left Enterprise, she felt a nagging suspicion that she might fail. She considered the ramifications dispassionately. If she could not convince Darala to allow Enterprise, and particularly Phlox, access to the deluged and beleagured health facilities now trying to deal with the onset of the symptoms of this unknown virus, the death toll could very easily climb into the hundreds of thousands within a few days. Darala herself was in danger; judging from the intricate plans of Geren and Fenree, it was unlikely that the crew of Enterprise, however determined, would be able to stop them from attempting to assassinate the ruler.

Darala, however, spoiled child-woman that she was, seemed intent on wholesale rejection of every fact presented to her, no matter how compelling. T’Pol was not too proud to admit that she wished that Captain Archer or Commander Tucker had accompanied her; humans had an innate ability, in her experience, to form coherent arguments in the face of utter illogic. Indeed, Archer had proven that even the Andorians could be reasoned with, after a fashion, something a hundred years of Vulcan logic had never been able to achieve. She called upon all of her diplomatic training, channeling V’Lar and Soval and every other patient Vulcan ambassador she’d ever observed. She was running out of time.

Shevon’s official passwords and security codes had gotten the three of them, T’Pol, Shevon, and Lab Tech, through the warren-like back corridors of the Regent’s Palace and into the hidden chamber designed to shelter The One in the event of an emergency. T'Pol had not been able to hear exactly what Shevon had told the guard posted outside - she only knew it had something to do with the supposed contagious nature of the virus that had stricken the city. Whatever the lie, and T'Pol had no doubt that deception was involved, it had been enough to gain entry into this bunker, and into the presence of The One.

Now, though, it appeared that Darala was quickly losing patience. She had progressed from surprise to confusion to, eventually, obstinacy. Her Serenity was no longer "in Repose," so the gold filigreed headpiece was missing. Rather, the blue-black hair was twisted into a many-stranded braid and laid across her right shoulder. The simple tunic and trousers she wore indicated that she had been roused from her chamber and rushed to this safe place at the first sign of danger.

She had spared barely a glance at the padd T'Pol had offered, and had fixed a steady glare on the Vulcan as she had explained the nature of the crisis. As T'Pol drew a breath to begin her explanation once more, Darala rose abruptly from her seat, saying, “Commander T’Pol, I see no reason for you to go through this again.” T’Pol sank back into parade rest, listening intently as Darala approached her slowly and continued. “Captain Archer is dead, but then he is not. He is kidnapped and taken to another system, yet his ship orbits above us. You yourself stand before me, when just a few days ago, you were reported murdered and The People were accused of the crime.” T’Pol didn’t move a muscle. "And you expect me to believe that you, outworlders, are here to protect me from my own trusted advisor." She circled T'Pol slowly, a maneuver designed to unnerve and intimidate. T'Pol had seen Captain Archer do the same thing on a number of occasions. Had she not been Vulcan, she suspected, it would have been very effective.

“I will tell you, Commander, what I think. I think you are a very skilled liar. I think you have infiltrated The World, unleashed a deadly plague upon us, even after we extended our hospitality to you. I will not be deceived by this transparent attempt to transfer your guilt onto my most trusted advisors.”

T'Pol took no offense at being called a liar, but, for the first time, she began to understand the human concept of ‘irony.’ She was reminded of a particular expression Commander Tucker liked to use on occasion: Dear Kettle, You're black. Love, Pot. “Serenity,” she responded carefully, “Throughout the galaxy, Vulcans have a reputation for being truthful. It would be illogical for me to lie to you about this threat.”

Darala blinked in amusement. “Ah, logic. Interesting. Tell me, then, what does one do with a liar when she insists that she is telling the truth?”

"One looks at the facts and makes an independent assessment," T'Pol responded evenly.

The monarch turned on her heel and strolled back to her couch. "Facts of your own making," she said, dismissively, "with no support but your own word. I have heard you out. Leave now."

T'Pol stood immobile for a moment, unable to believe the stubbornness of this woman. No human she had ever encountered even approached this level of illogic. She searched her mind for some argument that she hadn't tried yet, some way to persuade Darala that The World was about to come crashing down.

"Your Serenity," came the diffident, soft voice of Shevon Oreevi, half hidden in the shadows. "If I may speak . . .?"

After a moment, Darala nodded her assent, her expression curious.

The Liaison's aide stepped forward into the light. "I have a question for The One. What would it take for her to leave behind her world, her family, and everything she knows? What if there were no guarantee that she would ever be able to come home? What if to return would mean being labeled a traitor to The People, and, most likely, death?"

Darala didn't answer, only watched her silently. Shevon went on, her voice growing firmer and more confident. "I was willing to give up everything, Serenity, and I contacted Enterprise in secret because I was convinced - I am convinced - that what these humans have told you is the truth. I saw Arat's interrogations, heard his words with my own ears. Whatever he felt about you, Serenity, or felt for you, he ended up betraying you. I've seen the laboratory data, and I know that the humans have lost one of their own, dead as a result of this virus." Darala drew herself up sharply, but Shevon went on, more passionately. "These humans are here to save your life, and as many of your people as they can. Please, Serenity, let them."

T'Pol counted one hundred fifty seven standard seconds in her head before Darala responded. During that interval, nobody moved or spoke. Even Lab Tech, who, all this time, had remained silent and still in the shadows, seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of Darala's decision. As the one hundred fifty eighth second ticked by, Darala held out her hand imperiously. "I will see your data," she said, her tone incrementally less frozen than it had been before.

Acknowledging the very logical feeling of relief coursing through her, T'Pol stepped forward and offered the padd for Darala's examination.

Archer didn't know which disappointed him more: that Jin Sava had, in fact, betrayed them, or that he himself had been dumb enough not to see it coming. Why in the hell had he believed for even one minute that Jin Sava wasn't working in league with Geren? Why else would the Ranger miraculously appear to intercept Enterprise on her way back to Carah Shon? He should have just taken Enterprise back to The World at warp, rather than trying to reason and negotiate with the Carah Shon L'os. They had given Jin Sava all the time he needed to transmit their data to Geren and Fenree, while they had stupidly waited to see whether the Teryat believed them.

His mouth twisted bitterly at the thought of them earnestly explaining the existence of the conspiracy to one of the conspirators.

He suddenly felt oppressed by his surroundings, the overly bright lights and the sharp colors of Geren's quarters. Here inside the compound, the heat was almost bearable, but the stresses of the past several days, along with a good heaping portion of guilt and grief, crushed down around him. The only thing keeping him from imploding, it seemed, was the reassuring presence of Reed beside him. The lieutenant seemed relaxed and vigilant, which had a calming effect of its own on the captain.

"Geren Liaison," Archer greeted mildly, "I guess I'm not sorry to disappoint you."

A subtle change in shade indicated that Geren was not immune to humor, however dark. "It appears we underestimated your crew's capabilities, Captain Archer. I must say that I am quite surprised that your crew were not so easily fooled by our decoy ship. We had expected only a cursory investigation before your ship went on its way." He inclined his head slightly. "Your sidearms, Captain. Please surrender them."

Before Archer could move, he heard a sharp intake of air from Reed. He turned his head to see a woman he didn't recognize standing next to the lieutenant, with her hand at his neck. She was taller than the lieutenant by a few centimeters, and wore a silky brown tunic and trousers. Reed's face was unnaturally pale in the bright light, and he seemed to be straining away from whatever she held in her hand.

"Malcolm?"

It was Geren who answered. "You can give me your weapons, Captain, or you can watch Ryamon inject your lieutenant with a very toxic substance. Lieutenant Reed has already seen Ryamon in action, and he could tell you how painful a death at her hands can be."

Sure enough, Archer could see a small hypodermic needle in the woman's hand, pressing against Reed's jugular. So this was Ryamon Fenree, the supposed interrogator. He had no way of knowing for sure, but he would bet just about anything that this was the other "patron" who had come to the laboratory with Geren. She had the same arrogant bearing, anyway. She had already murdered one person, Archer knew, and had clearly intended for all of the beings on that planetoid to perish when it disintegrated after being bombed; he had no doubt that she would kill Reed where he stood, without hesitation. He lowered his hand slowly to his leg and pulled the phase pistol out of its loop. He passed the weapon to Jin Sava, who handled it gingerly by its grip, then did the same with Reed's. Then he stepped back, holding his hands up, palms out in the - so far as he could tell - universal sign of compliance and surrender.

Fenree blinked a smile of satisfaction. "Good choice, Captain Archer," she said, and now he did recognize her voice.

Before Reed could step away from Fenree, Jin Sava shot him. The lieutenant spasmed, his face locked in a rictus of shock, then his body slumped and fell unaided to the floor. Archer gave a wholly inarticulate cry and threw himself down beside Reed, feeling frantically for vital signs. He could detect a faint pulse, and held his own breath as he worriedly counted Reed's respirations. Biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, he fumbled for his communicator.

"Your communicator will not work in here, Captain," Fenree informed him smugly.

He flipped it open anyway, and was rewarded with a total lack of signal. He twisted the controls for a moment without success, then closed it and slid it deliberately back into his sleeve pocket. Still, it took several deep breaths to pull himself together. Without taking his eyes of the now-unconscious lieutenant, he growled, "Why would you do that?"

Jin Sava gave an unconcerned shrug. "Three against one makes me more comfortable than three against two." There was no doubt in Archer's mind now which side Jin Sava had picked.

The Carah Shon woman glanced at Geren and Jin Sava, then gestured toward Archer. "I can kill him now, as well, unless you think he is of some use to us further?"

"This one might prove useful in extracting some last minute concessions from The One," Jin Sava put in smoothly, turning the phase pistol in Archer's direction. He looked at Geren, who had not yet torn his eyes away from the lifeless body on the floor. "I suggest we bring him with us. We can always dispose of him later."

"I . . . I agree," Geren replied hesitantly. Archer began to think that the Liaison might be getting cold feet. Or, perhaps, Fenree had always been the brains and the backbone of this operation.

It took every ounce of his self-control not to react, but Archer had learned over the years that any mistake made by his enemy could be exploited, if he were patient. These conspirators were arrogant enough to leave him alive one minute longer than necessary; they would almost certainly make more mistakes down the line. It might be enough.

A soft chime sounded from some sort of communication device positioned on the wall. Geren pounced on it almost gratefully. He spoke quietly to whoever was on the other end, his eyes darting in Fenree's direction. His expression registered surprise for an instant, before he snarled a few low words and closed the communication. "The One is in the Great Hall," he said accusingly, striding back to the center of the room.

Fenree twitched her head. "She is supposed to be in the secure bunker," she fired back, as if this were Geren's fault. Archer began to think that this presented a wrinkle in whatever plan was in motion. Perhaps his opportunity would come sooner than he had hoped. The woman tucked the hypodermic back into a small pouch and slipped it into her pocket. While Geren seemed on the verge of panic, Fenree was calm and calculating. "Well, we can't delay any longer. You'll just have to be that much more convincing." She looked at Archer again, still crouched at Reed's side. "Dispose of that one."

"That would be foolish," Jin Sava observed quietly. "Assuming the virus is spreading as you planned, you still need a kuh dvavic." After a second, Archer's UT translated that as "scapegoat." He didn't like where this was heading. The Teryat went on. "Why blame a phantom species when you can deliver the perpetrator to Darala for immediate justice? These humans are enemies of The World, isn't that right? Then present him as such, before the whole council. And when Darala is dead, everyone will know that it was you who caught the murderer. How could they deny you anything you ask?"

"His death confession will implicate us," Fenree pointed out. "Whatever he knows, he'll reveal it under the drugs, including this conversation."

Jin Sava blinked at her. "Then isn't it a shame that the confession drugs work far more quickly on humans than we might have expected? Almost instant death."

Judging from her reaction, Fenree was more than pleased with this neat little solution. She grabbed Archer by the face and yanked him upright. He felt the muzzle of the phase pistol pressing against his temple. All thought of resistance left his head; he was outmatched on every side. "Die now or die later, Captain," Fenree suggested implacably, "it's your choice." Archer stifled a groan and said nothing. Fenree seemed to take that as assent, at least for the moment. She let go of his jaw and clamped her hands around his arm, pulling him toward the door.

He barely avoided tripping over Reed's legs, and balked. "No, wait! You can't just leave him here!" Archer's protests fell on deaf ears as he was manhandled out of the apartment and into the dark corridor. He craned his neck and caught a last glimpse of Reed's limp body sprawled on the colorful floor cloth.

From her position behind a tiny hidden door, T'Pol possessed a view of almost the entire Great Hall. That such an alcove existed, completely undetectable from the other side but equipped with high-quality speakers, spoke volumes about the level of distrust between the council and The One. There was just enough room for the Vulcan and the two beings behind her. She stooped down a bit to allow them to see into the chamber as well. Most of the chairs, arranged in a three semi-circles before Darala's elaborate throne, were occupied with legislators who had nervously assembled to deal with the growing epidemic. There was little chatter among them; from time to time the councillors would check their personal information devices, following, T'Pol was sure, the progress of the virus across the region.

Several tense minutes after the last councillor found her seat, Darala's imposing figure entered the Hall, flanked by two very large, very serious looking guards. She took her place. There was no need to call the meeting to order. All eyes were pinned on The One, as if waiting for her to dictate their next move. Neither unanimity in government nor Darala's ability to lead seem to be an issue at the moment.

"As you know, we have a serious situation, " Darala intoned. "Tell the Liaison that we are ready to receive him."

From the far left of T'Pol's peripheral vision, the heavy double doors opened. Geren Obot Liaison strode in. He did not look to either side, but made his way unhurriedly between the rows of chairs toward the monarch. He bowed deeply and stood with his hands clasped in front of him, waiting to be invited to speak.

"You have information?" The ruler's voice sounded a little more clipped than usual, the only outward sign of stress.

Geren blinked several times, and pitched his voice to reach all corners of the room. "I do, Your Serenity. As you know, The People recently received the humans, the People of the Yellow Sun, into our midst. We showed them the highest honors and hospitality. You tasked me, Serenity, with the care and keeping of these visitors. While they were here, we shared with them our history, our technology, and our friendship. We expected nothing in return, except, perhaps, their diplomatic good will.

"In doing so, we chose to disregard the warnings of the People of the Bird." At this, Darala stirred impatiently. "And it is not the time now to debate those decisions," Geren added quickly, immediately backing off of any perceived criticism of The One Who Is. "But," he continued, his tone dire, "the humans had an agenda of their own, one which included a ruse designed to implicate the people in the kidnapping and murder of the captain of the Earth ship Enterprise, Jonathan Archer. And while we devoted our fullest resources to investigate this supposed crime and bring the perpetrators to justice, the humans unleashed on The People what can only be considered an act of war."

A murmur rippled across the room as the councillors took in this information. Darala leaned forward in her seat. "You have proof, Liaison?"

Geren paused dramatically, then turned toward the door through which he had come. "I do, Serenity. I have heard it from the lips of one of the conspirators himself. Enter!" he barked.

The doors swung open once again, and T'Pol felt a chill race through her body as the figure of Captain Archer appeared, flanked by Jin Sava and a woman she knew to be Ryamon Fenree. The captain walked under his own power, but T'Pol could read the signs of physical duress in his body language. Somehow, the plan had gone terribly wrong. Worse yet, she didn't see Lieutenant Reed. Were they holding him hostage in return for the captain's cooperation? Archer's face was unreadable, save for the look of hatred he shot Geren as he crossed the room.

Darala watched the human approach, with no indication of her earlier fascination or affection. "Go on, Liaison," she said. As the captain reached the center of the semi-circle where Geren stood, Fenree and Jin Sava forced him to his knees. Jin Sava held Reed's or Archer's phase pistol, and aimed it at the back of the captain's head. T'Pol could see a fresh bruise along his jawline, a smear of blood underneath his nose.

"The humans, along with their alien doctor, are responsible for the unknown virus now ravaging The People. It is based on their physiology, so that The People have no hope of developing a cure. They were responsible for the theft and destruction of our sacred Vya. They even invaded the personal integrity of The One herself -" At this the murmur started up again, only louder. Geren raised his voice. "Can any of us forget the spectacle we ourselves witnessed in this very chamber, the sight of the human enticing She Who Is into performing the Sayn to yish-vaha? My wife, Doctor Ryamon Fenree," he gestured to the woman now standing beside him, "has confirmed without any doubt remaining that The One was drugged that night."

Now the councillors were shouting, some lunging to their feet in outrage. Darala let this continue for a few moments, then raised a hand silently. Within seconds, the tumult calmed. She turned back to Geren. "I hear accusations, Liaison. What is your proof?"

That seemed to catch Geren off-guard, and he hesitated. Fenree stepped into the silence. "If I may, Serenity. My husband has shown me the data, as it became more and more difficult for him to determine whom to trust. I have examined the samples from some of the first victims of this plague, and compared it to the biological information provided by the humans during their time on The World." Fenree took a few steps toward the ruler. "I have been working diligently for the past several hours to isolate the virus, Serenity. And I am pleased to inform you that I have found a cure!" Her voice echoed triumphantly around the chamber. Some of the councillors tapped their arms politely. Reading the still-solemn room, Fenree went on, "Of course, you should be the first to benefit from this, Serenity, and then I and my colleagues will attempt to distribute this medicine and mitigate this catastrophe."

"Teryat Jin Sava, have you nothing to add?"

Jin Sava looked around the room for a moment. "No, Serenity."

Darala rose from her seat and approached the kneeling figure. Archer raised his head wearily to meet her gaze, then stiffened slightly. She studied Archer, blinking slowly, her head cocked a bit to the side. "Do you have anything to say in your defense, Captain?"

Archer shook his head. "They are lying to you, Darala. I think you know that already. We wanted to be your allies, that's all. We would never do something so montrous to The People. My doctor, Phlox, is the one who developed the cure for the vaccine -" He let out a muffled cry as Fenree turned and backhanded him sharply across the face.

"Don't . . ." T'Pol whispered to herself, knowing that if Archer retaliated, he would likely die.

Shevon trembled behind her. "We have to do something, Commander!"

T'Pol didn't tear her eyes away from the Great Hall. "We must stick to the plan, Ms Oreevi. That is our only hope of exposing this conspiracy once and for all, and for saving Darala's life." She softened her tone just a little and added, "The captain understands this. He's doing this of his own free will, whatever the outcome."

"Darala," Fenree said, "I beg you to let me inoculate you now, before this plague reaches inside this chamber."

"She's trying to kill you, Serenity," Archer groaned as he pushed himself up from the floor. He lifted a hand to wipe blood from his lip. "That's not the cure."

Darala regarded Archer for a moment. "I think The People have listened to enough human lies, Captain Archer," she said. To Fenree and Geren, she added, "You have the appreciation of all of The People." She pushed back the sleeve of her tunic. "You may proceed."

"Perhaps you should have your personal physician administer the vaccine to you," Jin Sava suggested.

"If you have nothing to say, Jin Sava, then say nothing," Darala snapped. Fenree extracted a hypodermic needle and efficiently injected the contents into Darala's arm. T'Pol took note of the look of satisfaction that passed between Fenree and Geren.

"Long live The People," Geren said.

"Indeed," replied Jin Sava. He turned the phase pistol in Geren's direction and said, "And long live The One Who Is."

At that, Darala pushed past T'Pol and opened the hidden door. Stepping out into the Great Hall, she ordered, "Take these two into custody."

The shocked expression on Geren's face was eclipsed by his wife's. The two of them whirled to look at the person Fenree had just injected, in time to see the figure morph back into the appearance of Lab Tech. The Explorer disengaged the projection device, rubbing the area on its arm where Fenree had jabbed it. It slid the hypo from Fenree's unresisting hand and passed a small medi-scanner over it. "Virus," it said in its mechanical sounding voice.

T'Pol strode across the room quickly to check on Archer. The captain shook his head, smiling wryly. "You really have a flair for the dramatic, T'Pol. It took me a second to catch on that it was Lab Tech, not Darala. That wasn't the plan, you know."

"Circumstances dictated an adjustment," she replied mildly. She had reached out a hand to help him to his feet, when someone screamed. In the commotion that broke out, T'Pol saw Darala crumple into Jin Sava's arms. Geren lunged for the dropped phase pistol.

Some council members dived to the floor, others clamored for the nearest exits in uncontrolled panic. The rush of bodies obscured her view for a few moments. She lost sight of Archer, then spotted his blue jumpsuit bent next to the fallen figure of Darala. "T'Pol!" he called as she made her way over. The monarch was already slipping into unconsciousness, her face a mask of pain. "Get Phlox down here! She's been injected with something. It's probably lethal."

"He should be on his way to The World already," T'Pol answered. "Darala gave her permission for the medical teams to leave Enterprise with the anti-virus approximately twenty-two minutes ago." T'Pol's scanner was not calibrated for Carah Shon vital signs, but what it was telling her wasn't encouraging. "Where's Mr. Reed?"

"Captain!" Reed's voice obviated Archer's answer. The captain's head snapped up to locate the lieutenant, who waved with the hand holding the phase pistol. "They've escaped. This way, sir!"

Archer grabbed T'Pol's arm briefly. "Get Phlox here, now. She doesn't have much time, and neither does anyone else. No matter what, T'Pol, get that anti-virus distributed."

"Be careful, Captain," T'Pol said, but he was already gone.