Star Trek - Survivors Part 18

"It is what I was designed for."

"Not only that, surely," said Rikan. "You said experience a moment ago. I can see that you have feelings, that you are concerned about your colleague Natasha, and about your duty to the organization you serve."

"You read my concerns very well," Data admitted.

"I have many years' experience over you," said Rikan. "I was surprised to find out how short a time you have been ... alive?"

"Conscious," Data supplied.

"Is not the organic part of your makeup alive?"

"In a sense; it does require nutrients, and replenishes itself. That part of me, however, existed in stasis for an unknown length of time before my consciousness was awakened."

"Ah," said Rikan, "how intriguing. Can you remember being brought to consciousness? Or are you like a person, who cannot remember the moment of birth?"

Birth. Tasha had called it that, "Then this very spot was your birthplace," when she saw his home.

"It is the first event I can remember. My mind was not a tabula rasa; I was already programmed with language, a great deal of basic knowledge, and information gathered by four hundred colonists on my home planet."

"I wonder," Rikan mused, "whether that would be a greater or a lesser shock than birth. I suppose no one will ever know, as no one can experience both."

"No, sir," Data responded automatically-and then realized the implied question. "Not at current levels of technology. And if it should ever become possible to transfer human consciousness into an android body ... I do not know if, having once been human, a person could adapt."

Rikan studied him. "Do you feel less than human, Data?"

"I am ... other than human. I am stronger and faster than any fully-organic humanoid. I have more information at my immediate disposal, and can manipulate it more efficiently. Still, I am capable of learning and growing-not merely increasing my information files."

"Obviously," Rikan told him with a smile. "I have never felt impelled to have a conversation like this one with the very clever computer system Adrian installed here. You are clearly a person, Data."

"Yes. Still, I would be human if I could. I look at you, sir, for example, and while I know that with experience I am learning judgment, I wonder if it is possible for me to acquire wisdom."

The smile broadened. "Ah, Data-do you not see that your question is its own answer?"

Data did not. "Sir?" he asked with a puzzled frown.

"Never mind," said Rikan. "You will outgrow that quandary-and discover others. Do you age physically?"

"Apparently not, sir. However, I have existed for too short a time for conclusive estimates as to how long I may continue. As Tasha frequently reminds me, I am not indestructible, but unless I suffer irreparable damage, Starfleet scientists believe this body will last several centuries."

"You may not suffer the physical indignities of age, but long life has other cruelties, far worse than loss of strength and keenness of the senses. Survivors are considered fortunate, Data-and the irony is that those who envy us our longevity either do not live long enough to know the cruel fate in store for us ... or else they live to share it."

"Sir?"

Rikan stared past Data, at nothing. "I had a wife once, and a beautiful daughter. I had good friends and colleagues, who shared the same experiences I did. They are all gone now-including many who were younger than I. My child, gone before me. My wife, following within the year. My friends, the companions of my young manhood-all are gone now."

The warlord's eyes refocused on Data. "Did your designers realize what they would subject you to, when they gave you both sapience and sentience, and then condemned you to outlive everyone you love?"

"I do not know whether I am capable of love, sir."

"How can you not know, when I know upon one day's acquaintance?"

"I cannot procreate," Data explained. "There is no reason for me to be designed with the capacity for-"

Rikan laughed. "Ah, Data, how very young-and how very human-you are in that respect! To confuse the mating drive with the love born of fellows.h.i.+p is utterly typical of young people. No, no-I am speaking of love for one's friends and colleagues, which you display in abundance." The laughter faded once more into ineffable sadness. "And that cause of greatest joy is also the source of greatest pain."

"I understand," said Data.

Rikan gave him a sad smile. "No, you do not, but you will ... and perhaps sooner than you think. Data, you were created as what Adrian calls a 'survivor.' Jevsithian says that Adrian is a survivor, whether by fate or doom or simply strength of will. You heard the seer's prophecy?"

"Such prophecies cannot be scientifically tested," Data pointed out.

"But if it should come true, what do you think it means?"

"To win and yet lose? To win the battle, but die, I should think."

"Possibly," said Rikan. "We organic people are also capable of logic, Data. The first moment you saw Adrian you attempted to arrest him. I do not think you can s.h.i.+rk that duty, and the charges you named-murder, conspiracy, treason-are surely punishable by death."

"The Federation has no death penalty," Data explained.

Rikan closed his eyes with a shudder. "I feared as much. Incarceration, then, for the rest of his life."

"Confinement to a rehabilitation colony," Data said, "and only until he is cured of his aberration."

"The name makes no difference. You do not know Adrian well yet. To lose his freedom would be far worse than death to such a man. And that, I think, is why the seer said he would first win all-which augurs well for Treva-and then lose."

The brilliant old eyes opened again, looking at Data with a question in their depths. "Lord Rikan," the android said, "please do not ask that of me. For all the good he may have done since, Darryl Adin did once turn traitor to everything he purported to believe in. If I neglected the opportunity to return him to Federation justice ... I would be doing exactly the same thing."

Tasha Yar spent the next two days with Darryl Adin, their old camaraderie reawakened as they plotted to subst.i.tute barrels of a placebo for the Riatine being carried to Treva's cities. With the routes and schedules Data supplied, it was a simple operation: when each truck stopped and the operators left it to have a meal, it was surrounded by similar vehicles, s.h.i.+elding it from surveillance as its cargo was rapidly removed and replaced by placebo in identical containers. The operators of those other vehicles-all Trevans from Rikan's territory-distracted their fellows of the road while the exchange was accomplished. Sdan, Poet, Aurora, and Pris provided means of disabling or fooling the vehicles' sensors. Child's play, as Data had put it, with their information, equipment, and expertise.

By dinnertime on the second day, all was accomplished without incident, everyone was back at Rikan's castle, and good cheer reigned.

Yar and Data, of course, had not been allowed to go along. As Yar waited for Dare to return, she knew she had made a decision: he had outwitted her and Data both, and certainly had a plan devised for his own escape when his mission here was over. While she could not in good conscience just let him go, she would do nothing to antic.i.p.ate his escape. She would simply trust him to plan something as unique as his trap for Data.

The android, meanwhile, was far quieter than usual. With the strategy room nearly empty, she missed the friendly talk they had shared on the way here. He suspects, she thought grimly. I wonder if he thinks I would actually aid Dare to escape? But she couldn't ask; better to let Data worry about her loyalties than plot to prevent Dare's escape.

After dinner, everyone crowded into Rikan's parlor to continue the celebration. Thus it was easy for Dare and Yar to slip out to the balcony, and thence away from the noise to Rikan's music room, where they had come before. Like the rest of the castle, it retained its ancient atmosphere and furnis.h.i.+ngs, while modern technology produced exquisite sound at the press of b.u.t.tons hidden inside a small enamelled box on one of the tables.

Dare programmed up something soft and un.o.btrusive, and they sat talking quietly for a time. Finally, Dare said, "I want you with me, Tasha."

"What?" she asked, startled, fearing he meant to ask her to run away with him.

"When we strike, three days from now-when the effects of the drug wear off, and we organize the uprising against Nalavia. I want you at my side."

"I can't," she said tightly. "The Prime Directive-"

"Tasha, this planet called for Starfleet help! Give it!"

"We were called to fight you."

"That will change as soon as people's heads are clear. If we stay here and monitor, will you come with me as soon as the people move against Nalavia?"

"Do you really think one person will make that much difference, Dare?"

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "You will to me," he said softly ... and kissed her, this time very gently, tenderly, waiting for her response.

Which she could not hold back. Desperately, she put her arms about his strong torso and hugged him close. "It can't last, Dare," she whispered fiercely.

"I know," he replied softly, stroking her hair. "Tasha, I know you. It would be wrong to ask you to leave the life you have made for the hit-or-miss existence of an outlaw. I shan't ask you that, I promise. But I will ask you one question: do you still believe I am guilty? Do you still think I betrayed you?"

"No," she answered. "I never completely believed it, Dare. I don't know how there could have been all that evidence against you-but I've known all along that the man I love could never do such a thing."

She felt him relax in relief beneath her touch. Then he kissed her again, just as tenderly, and murmured, "We may never see one another again."

"I know. But let's not think about that now. We have three days, Dare-some people never have even that long."

He smiled, the wonderful, warm sweet smile that she remembered so well, and stood, extending his hand to her.

She took it, determined to take what she could have, now, and let tomorrow take care of itself.

If life was bliss, albeit only temporarily, for Tasha Yar, it was painful confusion for Lieutenant Commander Data. His discussion with the warlord Rikan left him questioning the feelings the old man claimed he had. Did his concern over Tasha's behavior stem from that n.o.ble form of brotherly love Rikan wanted to credit him with?

Or in his search to comprehend the human spirit had he stumbled into the dark and self-defeating emotion of jealousy?

Data knew textbook definitions for all these terms, but they were little help, as he so often found when faced with human reality. He noticed Tasha disappear with Adin a second evening-and this time they came to breakfast together the next morning, perfectly groomed and perfectly relaxed ... and just a little too perfectly content.

Doubt about his own motives kept Data silent for most of the day; besides, Tasha was constantly at Adin's side, and what he wanted to say to her should be said in private.

Finally, though, as people began leaving to dress for dinner, Data managed, "Tasha, may I speak with you?"

"Of course, Data. Come along to my room."

When they entered, Tasha closed the door and took off the light jacket of the outfit she was wearing, hanging it on the peg rail.

For one horrified moment, Data thought she meant to change clothes in front of him, a way of saying, "You mean no more than any piece of machinery that might be in my quarters." But she did not. Instead, she waved him to the single chair, then sat down on the bed. "I think I know what you're concerned about, Data-and you needn't be. I won't let my feelings for Dare get in the way of my duty."

"That is, indeed, my concern," he said, grateful that she had broached the awkward subject. "However, in your plans to monitor the expected uprising against Nalavia, I wonder if you have considered what will happen when it is over and peace has been restored."

"Data," she said in her favorite tone of utter reasonableness, "I have no plans to turn outlaw and join the band of the Silver Paladin."

"I did not think you had," he replied. "I meant our immediate duty once we are back in contact with Starfleet."

She chuckled. "If you think you can succeed in arresting Dare, you go right ahead and try."

Data had never before faced such a situation. "Are you saying you will not?"

"I'm saying that I don't think either you or I will ever get the chance, Data. Dare won't stay around that long."

"But if he does?" Data persisted.

"He won't," Tasha said firmly, and got up as if to dismiss him.

Data also got to his feet. "I am asking for fact, not opinion, Lieutenant. If you have the opportunity to arrest Darryl Adin and return him to the Federation, will you do so?"

Her eyes flashed and her jaw set. "Are you pulling rank on me ... Commander?"

"Do I have to ... Tasha?"

She stood firm for a moment, staring eye to eye with him. Then her mouth trembled, and he saw a tear start at the corner of her eye. "You shouldn't have to ask me, Data. Yes, d.a.m.n you-if it comes to that, I will do my duty. But I know it won't come to that-Dare will never let it."

Data left her then, relieved. Tasha's word was good. Why, then, did he feel a peculiar guilt at making as certain as he could the arrest of her lover?

The day had gone to making plans for taking over the radio and video broadcasts once Nalavia's people had the hypnotic drug out of their systems, and for countering Nalavia's move to inst.i.tute martial law. Yar began putting on makeup, preparing to don a diaphanous blue and lavender gown Pris had lent her in place of the gold for tonight.

Rikan's formal dinners were such a lovely quaint old custom, she thought, a delightful contrast to the high-tech work of the day. She brushed her short hair, bending over to fluff it out. At the moment Dare's hair was longer than hers, but he had never minded her short style. Since childhood, she had always kept it cut too short for an a.s.sailant to find much to grab onto, and Dare, bless him, had never once "wondered what it would look like if ... " as had every other man she had been intimately acquainted with. Except Data, of course.

Poor Data. He was genuinely worried that she would ruin her life over Dare. Not that she was not tempted, but she knew her love accepted her decision.

If only there were some way to prove his innocence. But there was not. She remembered his court-martial as if it were yesterday; there was just too much incontrovertible evidence to disprove, especially at this late date.

So she would do what both life and a career in Starfleet security had taught her: plan for tomorrow; live for today. Tonight she and Dare could escape to his quarters again, and pretend there was nothing more to life than love and laughter.

Yar looked into the mirror and was pleased with what she saw. She couldn't be objective; she felt beautiful, no matter what the mundane world might see. Now all she had to do was get that unfamiliar dress on- "Alert! Alert! Incoming flyers! All hands to battle stations!"

At the announcement ringing through the halls, Yar dropped the froth of blue and lavender and skinned back into the plain tunic and trousers she had worn all day. Only when she was out in the corridor did she realize she didn't have a battle station.

A few doors down, Data emerged from his room, wearing his Starfleet uniform. "The strategy room," he said, and together they ran downstairs into highly organized chaos.

Cupboards which had remained closed before now stood open. Poet and Pris were issuing formidable looking weapons to the members of Rikan's household. Sdan was at the computer console, and the viewscreen showed a schematic of the castle and its surroundings.

Two force screens glowed softly, one around the castle itself, one several miles away. "s.h.i.+elds?" Yar asked. They couldn't be anything like a stars.h.i.+p's s.h.i.+elds, unless a matter/antimatter generator was hidden beneath the cliffside.

"The inner one," Sdan replied. "Outer one's a static generator that'll knock a flyer's controls haywire. Good pilot can fly on visual, but the inboard computer won't work. They'll have to fire their weapons on manual."

"But you've actually got a s.h.i.+eld around the castle?"

Pris handed out the last of the weapons and came over. "A weak one," she replied. "It's battery-powered, and will last about half an hour against the sort of weapons these flyers can carry. We'll try to drive them off before it goes." She handed Yar and Data each a phaser rifle of heavy design. "If the outer defenses work, you don't have to get involved. But if they fail, and some of Nalavia's flyers get through the s.h.i.+eld, you'd better be prepared to defend your own lives!"

Chapter Ten.

LIEUTENANT COMMANDER DATA saw that Pris Shenkley was correct. "Where do you need us?" he asked.

"Join Dare on the upper ramparts," she replied. "Those guns will bring down a standard military flyer-provided it doesn't get you first."