"Malcolm, over here," the Captain called out. "Follow the sound of my voice."I should never have let him take the scanner, Malcolm thought. The fog had come out of nowhere and had separated them from sight in mere seconds. "Keep talking, Captain."
"I can see your bio-sign," came the voice from out of the thickness. "Keep heading straight, then veer to your right."
Malcolm took a dozen steps. "How am I doing now, Captain?"
There was no answer.
"Captain?" Malcolm stopped, and shivered. "Speak to me, Captain."
He took out his communicator. "Enterprise, can you see the Captain?"
He waited ten ... twenty ... seconds, holding his breath. "Enterprise? Hoshi? Come in Hoshi."
He was all alone. He shivered.
"He's gone, Captain," Trip said. "There's no trace of Malcolm anywhere. Explain to me again what happened."
"I'm taking the lead. Everything is fine. And then Malcolm is calling out to me: 'Where are you?' I turn around, but he's not there. But, he's still calling out."
"You still had his bio-sign."
"For the first few minutes. Then even that disappeared."
This was the stuff of nightmares, Malcolm thought. He put the dead communicator back into his pocket, and looked all around to see if there were any signs of clearing. He dropped to the ground to check for footprints. Of course, there were none. That would be too easy.
"T'Pol's tried everything," Trip reported. "She an' Dr. Phlox modified her screen to target any possible reading."
"I've been talking to the locals," Hoshi said. "I don't think I understand them right — They just keep saying, 'He's by himself — he's by himself.' I ask if he's alone. And they say, 'No, he's by himself.'"
"They told us to stay out of this valley," Archer said. "When I asked them why, they were just as cryptic — 'You will find what has been lost.'"
They have to be looking for us, Malcolm hoped. They must be looking. Please, he prayed. Once more, he called out, "Captain?" But no response came, and — for a second, just a second — he lost hope.
And then he saw a spark of light. They've found us, he thought. Good man, Trip. "Over here. We're over here." But the light came no closer.
So Malcolm moved towards the light. And it grew brighter. It welcomed him. He stopped, and questioned that — it welcomed him? Was this light alive? "Who are you?" he asked.
And the light shimmered in response. He took another tentative step. And the light grew warm.
His head began to swim, and his thoughts grew hazy. He was starting to forget — or ... was he starting to remember?
This is pleasant, Malcolm thought. And the light smiled.
It understands me. I know it does. I could say anything I want to it, and it would understand. And ... I would understand, as well. And then he knew what the light was — it was his own reflection mirrored by the fog.
I could stay here, forever — wouldn't that be nice? One more step — just one more step. What's keeping me from taking it? The Captain. That's it. Where is the Captain?
"Captain?" Malcolm found his voice again.
"Malcolm, over here."
He turned around. Suddenly, the fog began to lift. Archer and Trip ran up to him, relief washing their faces.
"Malcolm, where were you?" Trip wanted to know.
"I can't tell you that," he answered. "But I did find something."
"What was that?" his Captain asked.
"Myself."