by David Mack
It took Data seven-hundredths of a second to parse Akharin’s peculiar use of verbal emphasis, compare it to his choice of words, and deduce from the context of the remark that the Immortal was warning him that their conversation was being monitored.
“Yes. A pity. There is much my father hoped to discuss with you.”
“I’m sure you can sympathize,” Akharin said. “At least now you and Rhea might have a chance to—”
“Quiet!” Gatt snapped.
Unable to hold in the cork on his anger, Data confronted Tyros. “Take me to Rhea!”
Only then did he see the high-power disruptor pistol Gatt was pointing at him. He waved Data into the cell opposite Akharin’s. “Change of plans. You’ll be staying awhile.” As soon as Data was fully inside the cell, the force field snapped on without anyone touching any controls or saying anything, leading Data to suspect that the ship itself likely was controlled by its own sentient AI personality.
Gatt hooked a beefy thumb over his shoulder at Akharin. “Try to get your pal to share his big secret with us. Do that”—he cracked a sinister smirk—“and you and little Miss Rhea just might get to live happily ever after.”
* * *
Doubt and resentment gnawed at Tyros as he followed Gatt back to Altanexa’s command deck. They were a few sections away from the nerve center by the time Tyros mustered enough courage to speak his mind. “That was a mistake, Gatt.”
“If you mean bringing Data onto this ship, I agree.”
He grabbed Gatt’s arm, halting him. “He didn’t come here as an enemy, but you seem determined to turn him into one.”
Gatt freed his arm with a hard tug. “He came here as a rival, and I did what I had to do to keep him in check. What was I supposed to do, Tyros? Let him have the run of the ship?”
“This is no way to treat a guest. We invited him.”
Leaning close for intimidating effect, Gatt bared his metallic teeth. “No, we invited his creator, Noonien Soong. Had I known that signal was from Data, I’d never have sent you to meet him, much less bring him back here.”
“You yourself called him our guest. I heard you say it.”
“I say lots of things. They’re not all true.” He resumed walking, and Tyros followed him. “Guest or prisoner, it makes no difference. He’s a destabilizing element, one we don’t need.”
“I disagree. He could help us. He wants the same thing we do.”
A derisive huff. “Only for himself. I doubt he’d be inclined to share it.”
Gatt quickened his step, and Tyros exerted himself to keep pace with the larger android’s longer stride. “If Data’s such a threat, let me take him back to where I found him.”
“Perish the thought,” Gatt said. “I might have vetoed the idea of bringing Data here had I known about it in advance, but now that he is, we should make the best of it.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“We’re already doing it. Just by letting them sit and face each other.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.” Tyros trailed Gatt around a turn into the last stretch of corridor to the ship’s nerve center. “What do you think will happen? Data will bribe, threaten, or trick Akharin into revealing his secret, with nothing more than clever conversation?”
There was a chilling calm in Gatt’s reply. “That’s what I want to find out. At this point, we have no idea what their relationship is. For all we know, they could be friends, family, rivals, sworn enemies. Understanding that connection will be vital to knowing how to turn Data’s presence from a liability to an advantage.”
“Well, we already know there’s a romantic connection between Data and Rhea.”
Gatt nodded. “True, but we don’t know how Akharin feels about it. Did he plan it? Does he disapprove of it? That might determine how useful an asset Rhea really is to us.”
“Be careful,” Tyros warned. “Putting her in danger could motivate Akharin and Data to unite against us, no matter how they feel about each other.”
“No one’s said anything about hurting her. She’ll be of more value as an enticement for Data: if he cooperates with us, we’ll let him reunite with her.”
It sounded far-fetched to Tyros, but he lacked a better plan. “And do we tell her that Data’s aboard? Maybe we can use her to ratchet up the pressure on him.”
A dismissive snort. “Ridiculous. You really think she’d betray her father for Data?”
“We’ll never know until we try.”
“Then we’ll never know, because we’re not going to do that.”
They reached the ship’s nerve center, a large hexagonal compartment whose central area was an open space, aside from a few consoles that retracted into the deck when not in use. As a free-willed sentient AI whose shell just happened to take the form of a starship, Altanexa handled most of the routine shipboard operations, including navigation, day-to-day piloting, and communications. Consequently, Tyros had never been entirely clear on what function the nerve center served aside from placating the crew’s need to feel as if they were in control of something.
The three adjacent bulkheads opposite the entryway were dominated by large holographic displays. The one in the center rotated through various angles of view outside the ship, while the other two usually cycled through an ever-changing array of status updates, internal security feeds, and star charts. On this occasion, however, the screen on the right was locked on an overhead security feed from the ship’s brig. The wide-angle perspective yielded a distorted scene with Akharin and Data in the center, facing each other through their cells’ force fields.
Tyros nodded at the security vid. “Aren’t we getting audio?”
Altanexa answered on a frequency that projected her voice directly into his neural net. We are. They just aren’t saying anything. In fact, they haven’t said a word since you left.
“I hate it when you do that,” Tyros groused. “Please use the speakers, I beg of you.”
“If I must.” She acquiesced with the exasperated tone of a sullen adolescent. “Spoken communication is just so inefficient.”
Gatt stared at the image of Akharin and Data. Something made his countenance harden and his eyes narrow with suspicion. “Tyros, does anything about that seem strange to you?”
“An immortal human and a resurrected android having a staring contest? Not at all.”
“Spare me your sarcasm. Think for a second. Data must have gone to great lengths to find Akharin’s hideout. Then he took a major risk by letting us bring him here. Now he’s standing less than two meters from the man he’s been looking for . . . and he has nothing to say to him?”
It pained Tyros to point out the obvious. “He’s not stupid, Gatt. He must know we’re listening. Now that I think about it, Akharin as good as told him so, when we brought him in.”
“But not to say anything at all? I can understand not wanting to talk about the secret, but with all the history between them, how can they stand there and say nothing?” Ideas fluttered behind his eyes, which were half hidden by heavy lids that made him look perpetually sleepy. “Nexa,” he said, addressing the ship by her nickname, “have either of them moved their hands?”
“No,” she said. “They haven’t moved at all since they stood up.”
Gatt frowned. “Damned odd.” Another moment of pained thought. “Any word on how Esaal’s doing with finding the items on Akharin’s shopping list?”
“He checked in twenty minutes ago. He has half the items in hand, and expects to have the rest within a few days. Barring complications, he should return within the week.”
Tyros shot a skeptical look at Gatt. “Tell me you’re not really going to let Akharin step into a fully stocked lab. If you think letting him collude with Data’s a bad idea, giving him access to chemicals and high-energy equipment’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Don’t be stupid. Getting that list from him was half the battle. Once we have that gear on board, all we’ll need from A
kharin are step-by-step directions for how to use it.”
Altanexa asked, “What if he resists?”
An image of the captive Rhea flashed across the left holoscreen. Gatt smiled. “In that case, we’ll have to give him a stronger incentive.”
Unconvinced, Tyros prodded, “And if threatening her’s not enough to motivate him?”
“Then we’ll see how far Data’s willing to go to change his mind.”
* * *
Conversing by Morse code rendered in blinks was slow and tedious in the extreme, but if there was one commodity Data was certain he and Akharin possessed in abundance, it was time. It also had the advantages of being silent and very difficult for the surveillance sensor mounted in the overhead to detect from such a severe angle. His only concern about attempting it was that he couldn’t be certain Akharin would recognize it for what it was, or, if he did, that he would remember the details of Morse code with sufficient clarity to make communication possible. As he responded to Data’s initial silent invitation to meet him at the force fields, however, Data realized that, as ever, Akharin was a man of many talents, both mundane and arcane.
Data stood tall with his arms loose at his sides. Blinking his left eye to signify dots and his right eye for dashes, he spelled out, Are you all right?
Across the narrow space in the U-shaped brig, Akharin stood with his hands folded behind his back. His eyes told his story. I am fine.
Realizing they had no time to waste on pleasantries or complicated exchanges, Data kept his side of the discussion as terse as possible. Have you seen Rhea?
Yes. Akharin frowned as he added, She is a prisoner.
Is she OK?
The Immortal’s mien softened. I think so.
What have you told them?
The six-thousand-year-old man grimaced. Nothing.
Data started to nod, then stopped himself. He didn’t want to do anything to alert the ship or its passengers to their conversation. I can help you escape.
Akharin telegraphed his doubts with a raised eyebrow. How?
First, I need the secret.
A long sigh. There is none.
You raised my mother.
Yes. He looked irritated.
Clenching his fists, Data demanded, Tell me how and I will help you.
Akharin’s features hardened. No words. Must do it myself.
Show me. I can learn.
Not this. Akharin clenched his jaw in frustration, then he mouthed words and let Data read his lips. Having da Vinci teach you to paint does not make you da Vinci. Having Brahms teach you to play piano does not make you Brahms. This is not a gift I can teach.
Even in the face of such a fervent refusal, Data could not give up. More blinks. I must know. I must save my daughter.
Mercy dimmed the fires of anger in the Immortal’s eyes. Help me and I will help her.
His offer kindled Data’s fragile hopes. You will bring back Lal?
Yes, Akharin replied. If you get me and Rhea off this ship and safely back home.
Rhea must be free to choose her own path.
Data’s condition seemed to amuse Akharin. You hope she will go with you.
The Immortal’s intuition was correct. In the past, Data would have acknowledged the other man’s supposition as fact. But now, Data’s human emotions made him feel self-conscious at being so easily read. I just want her to be free.
There is no shame in wanting her. Akharin’s expression took on a fatherly cast. You brought out good things in her. And she in you.
His sentiments surprised Data. Does that mean I have your blessing to be with her?
Yes. A crooked, bittersweet smile. Not that I have a say in the matter.
Approaching footsteps ended their clandestine negotiation. They turned their heads toward the open end of the U-shaped brig as Gatt returned, backed by a pair of robots. One of the pair was skeletal and humanoid, but with four arms, two of which held disruptor pistols. The other resembled a piece of industrial equipment, with a shell of gleaming monotanium alloy; it rolled on treads, had a grappling claw, and was armed with a military-grade plasma cannon.
Gatt stopped in front of Data’s cell and deactivated the force field. “I have a special treat for you.” He ushered Data out of the cell with a wave of his disruptor sidearm.
Data stepped out and faced Gatt. “Where are we going?”
“Can’t you guess?” He shot a dirty look at Akharin, then added, “To see your gal.”
The robots at Data’s back prodded him forward with quick jabs from their weapons.
Stumbling into motion, Data caught a parting glance from Akharin and comprehended the silent message in the man’s eyes, an appeal from one father to another:
Take care of my daughter.
Departing the brig with a subtle nod to Akharin, Data promised the Immortal and himself he would do precisely that.
* * *
Regardless of the purpose for which Altanexa might have been designed, Rhea McAdams was fairly certain it was not the keeping of secrets. She heard the approaching clatter of footsteps from the corridor beyond her quarters’ closed and locked-from-outside door. Based on the sounds and rhythms, she knew to expect four persons. One would be Gatt, who had taken her prisoner weeks earlier by means of cruel deception. Two others would be his minimalist-looking henchbots, Senyx and Alset. The fourth person’s stride, however, had a cadence and timbre that she didn’t recognize. Intrigued, she stood to greet her visitors.
Low hums attended the release of magnetic locks, and a gentle hiss of hydraulics filled the air as the portal slid open. As expected, Gatt’s hulking mass filled the doorway, blocking her view of the others behind him. “Good evening.”
She was in no mood to feign civility. “What do you want?”
“You have a visitor.” He turned sideways and let someone slip past him.
At first glance the visitor was both strange and familiar. It was Data’s face, but it wasn’t. Rhea was sure she’d never seen him before. With his loose fall of light brown hair and eyes as blue as an arctic sky, he looked like an ordinary human, and he was just as youthful as herself. Besides, how could it be Data? She’d heard the tragic news of his death nearly five years earlier, during the Enterprise crew’s showdown with the Romulan usurper Shinzon. So who was this?
Then he smiled at her. “Hello, Rhea.”
“Data?” It made no sense, but she could feel that it was true. It was him. “Data!”
She threw herself at him, and he caught her in a heartfelt embrace. Overcome with joy, she peppered his face with kisses. “My God, it is you! I thought you were dead!”
“I was. It is a long story.”
“No doubt. How’d you find me?”
Before he could answer, Gatt said, “He’s not here for you. He came for Akharin.”
It shouldn’t have felt like a betrayal, but in a small way it did. Data averted his gaze from hers, and her elation faded. “Is that true?” She pushed harder. “Data! Is it true?”
“Not entirely.” There was a hint of guilt in his eyes. “The first time I contacted the Fellowship, I told them I wanted you to be the one who met me.”
Disillusioned, she slipped from his arms and backed up half a step. “Why? So I could help you reach Akharin?” She felt like a pawn in a game she despised.
“My desire to find you had nothing to do with my need to find him.”
“I want to believe that.” Her anger flared as she noted the stares of Gatt and his enforcers. “Do you mind? We’re trying to have a personal conversation here. Emphasis on the personal!”
Gatt held his ground. “I can’t exactly leave the two of you unsupervised.”
Rhea crossed her arms and glared daggers at him. “As if I don’t know your ship sees and hears everything I do in this room. All I’m asking for is the courtesy of an illusion of privacy.”
The ship’s de facto leader mulled that over, then backed out of the doorway. “Fine. You can have a few minutes alone.
But if Nexa thinks you two are up to something, even for a second, I’ll cut this little reunion short.”
“Whatever. Just buzz off.” Gatt closed the door, and Rhea relaxed and took Data’s hand. “Sorry about that. Guess I’m going a bit stir-crazy in here. Didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
He nodded in sympathy. “I understand.”
She moved toward her bunk and pulled him along with her. “Have a seat.” They sat down beside each other, still holding hands. “So, what is it you and they want from Akharin?”
“Did you know he resurrected my mother, Juliana Tainer?”
Another revelation that made her blink. “He what? But I thought she’d suffered an irreparable cascade failure of her positronic matrix.”
“She had. Somehow, using either technology or techniques that remain unknown to me, he reversed the damage and restored her matrix without any loss of data integrity.”
“That’s amazing! But what does the Fellowship want with it?”
The question made Data sigh. “Gatt seems to believe Akharin’s method can bring back any lost or corrupted AI, even though it has been explained to him that the procedure is quite specific to Soong-type positronic matrixes. To be frank, his actions appear delusional.”
“He wouldn’t be the first AI to succumb to irrational thinking.” Seizing upon a sudden insight yielded by her subconscious processors, Rhea exclaimed, “You think Akharin can bring back Lal! That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? For her!”
“Yes,” Data said. Tears shone in his eyes, and Rhea realized that not only did Data look more human than ever, he acted—and reacted—more humanly, as well. “I failed her once, Rhea. I will not fail her again.”
She pressed her palm to his cheek and with her thumb wicked the first sign of a tear from the corner of his eye. “You won’t, Data. And whatever help you need from me, just ask.”
He leaned close and kissed her, tenderly at first, and then with passion. By the time their lips parted, he had left her all but breathless. His voice dropped to a hot whisper rich with conviction. “I may have come here to find Akharin, but I promise I will not leave here without you.” His touch was feather-light as his thumb tip caressed her lower lip, and as he peered into her eyes she was certain he was looking into her soul. “You are the only woman I have ever loved. I have never forgotten you, not for one moment—and I never will.”
