It had been a trying day. Visitors to the ship always put Malcolm on edge. Now they were gone, yet he still remained on alert. Muscles tense and nerves ready. Perhaps a long, hot shower would steam the stress out of his system.He entered his quarters and turned on the light. A small boy lay curled up in his bunk, fast asleep. Malcolm had noticed him earlier, darting behind all the adults, seeming to belong to no one.
Only Malcolm had noticed him, and he had noticed Malcolm. Whatever place in the room Malcolm had chosen to stand, the boy had moved close by. Several times during the afternoon, their eyes had met.
Malcolm couldn't imagine how the child had sneaked into his quarters, but there he was, with a sweet and innocent look upon his sleeping face. I should be alerting the Captain, Malcolm thought, but he could not move.
And when he did move, it was not to alert the Captain, but to sit down on his bunk next to the boy. He reached out and gently touched the dark and tousled hair. He brought his face in close, and the child's scent reminded him of home.
The boy opened his eyes, and blue-grey met blue-grey. And Malcolm fell in love. He was looking at a clear blue sky, the ocean breeze sending spray up a cliff, a sailboat in the distance.
A soft, tender hand reached up to touch Malcolm's face. He thought his heart would break. There was no more tension in Malcolm's body, his nerves were calm. The child had a healing touch. The small hand came away wet.
Malcolm put his own hand up to his face and found that he had been quietly weeping. The boy wrapped his arms around Malcolm's neck, urging to be picked up.
Malcolm set the child on his lap, and the boy snuggled in against his chest. And there they sat together, neither moving for an hour, maybe more.
Finally, Malcolm felt the small head nod. The boy fell back asleep. And Malcolm tucked him once more into his bunk, pushing the covers back into place.
For the first time, Malcolm noticed what the child was wearing. A set of blue pajamas covered with sailboats and seashells. They looked familiar, but Malcolm could not place them. How strange for a man who noticed everything.
"I'm sorry to be disturbing you, Captain." Malcolm stood in Archer's doorway. "I know it's late, but we seem to have a problem."
Archer had been asleep, and was now rubbing a pleasant dream out of one eye. The other was viewing Malcolm not so pleasantly. "And it couldn't wait until morning? No, of course not." He held up his hand to ward off another apology. "What's the problem, Malcolm?"
"We have a stowaway."
"What?" The Captain was now wide awake.
"A youngster. A mere child. That boy who was at the reception."
"There wasn't any boy. Unless, you mean that kid with the broken tooth. But he had to be at least sixteen."
"No, the boy." Malcolm was aghast. "About five or six. Surely you noticed him."
"I'm telling you, Malcolm," the Captain was now on his feet. "There was no boy."
"Well, the proof is now asleep in my bunk."
"Malcolm," the Captain said, "this better not have been a dream of yours." He reached out to the wall, where his flipped the comm switch. "Hoshi, this is the Captain."
"All right, sirs," Hoshi began, stifling a hugh yawn. "I think I've got them."
The familiar face of one of their guests popped up on the screen. "Captain Archer," the woman greeted him. "How pleasant to see you again so soon."
"Yes, it is. I mean, heh-heh, it's pleasant to see you as well. Forgive me for contacting you at such a late hour, but ..." He paused to choose his words. "Didn't you leave something behind?"
"And what may that be, Captain?"
Archer turned to Reed to give him a sour eye. "Such as a six-year-old boy, maybe?"
"No, Captain. We brought no boy aboard your ship."
"That's what I thought. Sorry for ..."
"Captain," the woman interrupted. "Have you seen this boy, yourself?"
"No, but my Lieutenant, here ..."
"He's sleeping in my BUNK," Malcolm shouted.
"Perhaps you should check to see if he's still there," the woman suggested. "I will wait."
"Malcolm?" Archer ground out the name with his teeth.
"I don't understand." Malcolm stared at his pristinely made and empty bunk. "He was here. I touched him, I felt him, I held held him in my arms."
Archer walked over to Malcolm's console. "Hoshi, put our guest through."
Once again, the woman's face appeared, serenely smiling.
Once more, the Captain began, "My apologies. I can't tell you how ..."
"Captain Archer, may I speak directly with your Lieutenant?"
"Of course. Certainly," Archer uncertainly said. "Malcolm, speak to the nice lady."
"I don't know what to say," the poor Lieutenant was at a loss.
"Then, perhaps I can help you begin," the woman kindly spoke. "When did you first notice the boy?"
"It was just after you all arrived. You took my hand, and ... ," he paused. "I'm trying to remember ... you took my left hand, and pressed something into my palm. I didn't think anything of that, God knows why, but that's when I first saw him out of the corner of my eye."
"I pressed this into your palm." The woman held up her right hand, and displayed a pulsating indigo gem. "It's a remembrance stone. I felt your need for it." Then she smiled. "I hope you enjoyed my gift." Then the screen went blank.
Suddenly Malcolm remembered where he had seen the pajamas. They had been a gift to him from his Uncle Archie on the day that he turned six.