Riker asked for a location on Data and was informed by the computer that the android was on Holodeck Two. He took a turbolift and stepped out on the deck as a dark-haired ensign in the uniform of operations and services walked past, and Riker called out to her.
“Excuse me, Ensign. . . .”
The young officer turned and immediately came to attention when she saw the three small gold disks of his rank. “Sir?”
“Can you help me locate Lieutenant Commander Data? I was told he’s somewhere on this deck.”
“Oh, yes sir. This way, please.” She held out a hand, directing him toward a black surface of the corridor wall, which Riker knew was a computer interface. “You must be new to these Galaxy-class starships, sir.”
“A little,” Riker admitted.
The Ensign placed her hand on the black surface. “Tell me the location of Lieutenant Commander Data.”
At the touch of her hand and the key words, “Tell me,” the black surface glowed and displayed a light pattern that formed the words “Area 4-J.” The computer’s mellow voice intoned, “Lieutenant Commander Data . . . now located in Holodeck area 4-J.” An overlay of the holodeck appeared with a glowing light path imposed on it which indicated the way from where they stood to the designated area.
The ensign smiled politely and indicated the readout. “As you see, sir, it’s pointing you that way. Just follow the signals it will give you.”
“Thank you, Ensign.”
He walked away from her, and the ensign watched his departure with speculative eyes. “My pleasure, sir,” she said with a soft, vaguely hopeful smile.
As Riker moved along the corridor, the black surface of another computer panel came alive with a flashing direction signal pointing ahead. “The next hatchway on your right,” the computer directed.
He responded automatically. “Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome, Commander Riker,” the computer replied.
Riker flashed a look at it and realized the computers on this ship were far more sensitive and—he hesitated as he acknowledged it—perceptive than he had imagined possible. If computers that were truly mere machines serving the crew and ship were that sophisticated, what could he make of one like Data?
He moved along to the next hatchway and paused before it. “If you care to enter, Commander—” the computer went on smoothly.
Riker tossed it an irritated look and snapped, “I do.” The hatch immediately slid open to admit him, revealing a vista of wild and beautiful parkland. The rich vegetation and trees were a lush green and grew in glades and dells where their coolness invited one to linger. A small stream meandered through the middle distance, and the wooded parkland seemed to stretch for miles to the horizon. The creamy clouds of a classic “buttermilk sky” streamed across the blue overhead. Off to Riker’s left, he heard the distinct call of a crow over the general twitter of smaller birds in the trees. He smiled as a hummingbird whizzed past him to hover delicately over a flowering shrub nearby. He had seen holodecks before that attempted to do what this one accomplished so superbly. If he had not known exactly where he was, he would have believed absolutely that he was on Earth. It’s another machine, his brain reminded him.
Then, over the bird song and the raspy chitter of squirrels in the trees, he heard someone whistling. He recognized the tune, which was being executed in a rather poor and laborious manner. It was an ancient one he had been taught as a child, and he shook his head as the final notes flatted. Riker pinpointed the source of the sound as coming from ahead and to his right, and he moved toward it. As he walked, he heard the whistling start again, still labored and frequently flat.
He paused at the top of the low hill overlooking the tumbling stream and scanned for the whistler. The sound seemed to be coming from the opposite bank, but the trees and heavy brush still screened the view. “Hello!” Riker called. The whistling continued.
The stream conveniently had a number of wide flat rocks that could be used to cross it. Riker started across, stepping easily from stone to stone with his long stride. The next to last one rocked loosely as his foot came down on it, and he brought his other foot up to it and swayed precariously for a moment before he caught his balance. Once he steadied, he was able to step to the final stone and to the shore. Peculiar that so perfect a holo projection should have a loose stone in the stream—and yet, it was the kind of thing one might find in a real creek. He decided the designer of the projection had programmed in “flaws” that nature might have contained.
He hesitated on the bank, readjusting his direction as the offkey tune persisted. Then he started up the path that threaded through the dense shrubbery. It led him to a wooded glade where deep purple violets and green jack-in-the-pulpits grew shyly in the cool shade of the trees. Programmed for spring, Riker noted absently.
The whistler had started the old tune again, and Riker followed the sound up to where a sturdy tree forked to form a deep “Y” with its branches. Data was perched there, his lips pursed as he vainly tried to get the last notes correct. They tumbled out of key again. Apparently whistling was a difficult art for a machine to master. Riker quickly whistled the last bar correctly, and the android stared around blankly. Realizing who it was, he swung his legs around and dropped down to face the first officer.
“Marvelous how easily humans do that,” he said with admiration. “I still need much practice. Was there something you wanted, sir?”
“There are some puzzles down on the planet that Captain Picard wants answered.”
“Yes, the reports in regard to the Bandi and the construction of the station are quite incomplete.”
“He suggested I take you on the away team I’ll be leading.”
“I shall endeavor to function adequately, sir”
Riker studied the android, who stared back at him, patiently waiting for him to go on. “I’m sure you will.” Riker hesitated and then said, “He also suggested that I look up your record.”
“Yes, sir. A wise procedure always. I am not known to you, and you would wish to acquaint yourself with my capabilities and areas of expertise.”
Riker shifted uncomfortably. Why did this man—machine—put him so offguard? Data’s manner was mild, and his voice was gentle and polite. Not obsequious, not overeager to please—simply matter of fact. His face had a range of expression, but Riker had a feeling it would never register extremes of any kind.
“The record says you were found on a planet which had suffered a total biological catastrophe that destroyed all life on it.”
“That is correct, sir.”
“The planet was an Earth colony.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But you told me you were built by an alien race.”
“That is also correct,” Data replied calmly. “It occurred on Kiron III, where a human colony there faced accidental extinction. Unknown to that colony, an alien race of highly advanced machines lived there too. Seeing that the humans were to be destroyed, the aliens built me. They wanted to preserve what they considered the most important quality of the humans—their knowledge. Being machines themselves, they naturally considered information the most important quality of all. It appears I was completed and programmed shortly before the final catastrophe.”
“What happened?”
“I am afraid I don’t know, sir. I have a conscious memory only of what happened after everyone was dead. Someone had set a repeating distress beacon in orbit. A Starfleet vessel finally responded and discovered I was the only one alive on the planet. Humans are the first sentient life form I ever met.” He smiled a little shyly. “I was taken to Earth for study by Starfleet, but in the question of how the catastrophe occurred or what its trigger was, I have no programmed information.”
“The aliens?”
“Their fate is also a mystery to me. Apparently, they died as well.”
“Odd that they built you in the shape of the humans and not themselves.”
“Perhaps they felt tha
t humans would relate better to me this way. At least, they built me to approximate what they judged to be human form.”
“Mmmm.” Riker looked at Data’s yellow eyes and opalescent-gold skin, the only two features he could see that signaled that he was not human. “You are biomechanical in construct. Does that mean you eat?”
“I can consume almost any kind of solid material and convert it to fuel, and my systems do require oxygen for certain chemical balances. Ordinary liquids are of no use to me, which was why I was puzzled when the admiral insisted on trying to press a drink on me.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Riker smiled. “That’s just the admiral.”
“Yes, sir, I understand,” Data said eagerly. “Perhaps you can explain something else to me. Do you understand why he kept calling me ‘boy’? Of course, I was designed as a fully functional male.”
Riker cleared his throat, unsure of what to reply to that. “I believe . . . it’s just an expression the admiral uses for any male younger than he is.”
“Ah.” As far as Data was concerned, that answered that.
Riker was still uncomfortable and decided to push the conversation into areas in which he had concerns. “You have the rank of lieutenant commander. Honorary, of course.”
Data shook his head and replied cheerfully, “No, sir. Starfleet Academy class of ’78; honors in probability mechanics and exobiology.”
The android smiled at Riker’s expression of surprise. “Actually, sir, Starfleet regulations allow the acceptance of any qualified candidate so long as he, she or it tests out as a sentient life form. Does any of this trouble you?” asked Data.
“To be honest . . . yes, a little.”
Data nodded sagely. “Understood, sir. Prejudice is very human.”
“Now that troubles me. Do you consider yourself superior to us?”
“I am superior in many ways. But—” Data hesitated. “I would gladly give it up to be human.”
Riker studied him a moment, analyzing his own emotions. The fact Data was an android seemed less and less important in the face of his open honesty, his gentle philosophy, and his obvious yearning to become more than a bio-mechanical construct. Finally Riker said, “Nice to meet you—Pinocchio.” Data stared at him, uncomprehending. “A joke,” Riker explained.
“Ah! Intriguing,” Data said. “You must explain it to me.”
Riker grinned spontaneously. “You’re going to be an interesting companion, Data.” Aware of the time, he added, “We should go back. The captain will want the away team to get started as soon as possible.”
They walked back along the path that Riker had followed to the glade. Riker looked around again at the incredibly convincing foliage and shook his head. “This is marvelous,” he said. “The Hood had a holodeck, but it was nothing like this. I understand it can be programmed in almost endless combinations.”
“Yes, sir. Some seem to be requested more than others. For instance, this woodland pattern is quite popular. Perhaps because it duplicates Earth so well, coming here almost . . . makes me feel as if I’m human too.”
Riker paused and picked up a long blade of grass to study. “I didn’t believe these simulations could be so real.”
“Much of it is real, sir. If the transporters can convert our bodies to an energy beam, then back to the original pattern again—”
“Yes, of course.” Riker pointed the blade of grass. “The rocks and vegetation here have much simpler patterns. I saw a hummingbird on my way in . . . and I heard squirrels and a crow. . . .”
“Projections, sir.” Data waved his hand at a nearby area. “The rear wall.”
Riker stopped and stared intently. The wooded area stretched away in a dense growth of trees, low brush and shrubs. A few spots of color were visible where wild flowers spread a throw rug of blossoms on the grassy stetches. “I can’t see it.”
“We are practically next to it.” The android bent and picked up a large rock as Riker squinted vainly to see the wall. He pitched the rock about eight feet in a line directly ahead of Riker. The stone hit something in midair with a heavy thud and then bounced back to fall in the thick grass. “Right there, sir,” Data said helpfully.
“Incredible.” Riker knew he had twenty/twenty vision, but stare as he might, he could not make out the wall that confined the holodeck. Wesley’s voice in the near distance brought Riker around as the boy called out.
“Isn’t this great?”
Wes was hurrying down the opposite slope toward the stream. “This is one of the simple patterns, Commander Riker. They’ve got thousands more, some you just can’t believe.” He started across the creek, nimbly bouncing from rock to rock. “I was just over in the Himalayas, tracking the Yeti—”
Riker suddenly remembered the stone that had wobbled perilously under his feet when he had crossed. “Careful,” he yelled, “that next rock is loose!”
Wes stepped on the slab, and it tipped sharply under him. His arms flailed, and he fell off balance, tumbling into the stream with a huge splash. Data bounded down the hillside in swift, ground-covering leaps, landed with perfect balance on the treacherous rock, and reached down to grab the front of the boy’s tunic. Riker stared in amazement as the android easily lifted Wesley out of the water with one hand and hoisted him overhead.
Wes shook the wet hair out of his face and stared at Data in awe. “Wow!” he gasped. Data smiled faintly and set him down on a dry rock. “You must be the android. I mean, sir . . . uh, thank you. I can swim, but—”
“The water is ten degrees centigrade to simulate a mountain stream. I believe you should return to your quarters and change into dry clothes as soon as possible. It is an old Earth remedy for such an event.”
“I’d have to agree, Wes,” Riker said. He saw the plea dancing in the boy’s eyes and knew what he would have wanted at that age. “Lieutenant Commander Data,” he said formally, “may I present Wesley Crusher.”
“How do you do, Mr. Crusher,” Data said. He offered his hand and lightly but firmly shook the boy’s. Wesley loved it. Now he had an adventure to tell Adam and Craig Harris.
The intricate hatchway from Holodeck area 4-J into the corridor slid smoothly open at their approach. Data, Riker, and a very soggy Wesley stepped through. The boy was happily trailing behind a dirty wake of muddy water as he listened to the two officers talk.
Picard was on his way through the holodeck with Commander Reasons of Stores and Supply when the three figures emerging from the parkland area caught his eye. Two of them were instantly recognizable as Riker and Data. The wet and bedraggled boy was unknown to him, but he was clearly making a mess on the scrupulously clean deck. Reasons paused and looked inquiringly at him, and Picard motioned him ahead. “Go on, Mark. I’ll meet you in the Stores office.” Picard waited for the other three to approach him.
Wesley cringed inside, aware of his dripping clothes, his squelching shoes, and the long snake of muddy footprints he was leaving behind. There was no doubt in his mind as to the identity of the intimidating man with the severe eyes who waited for them at the corridor intersection. Even if he hadn’t immediately recognized the four small gold disks of a Starfleet captain, he had seen the holo of his mother and father and Jean-Luc Picard often enough. As they halted in front of the captain, Wes would have liked to wish himself away—but there he had to stand, his wet clothes steadily forming a puddle on the deck around his feet.
“I’m glad we met you, Captain,” Riker said. I was going to report as soon as I returned to the bridge.” He glanced at Data and then met Picard’s eyes again. “I investigated the subject you recommended. Most informative, sir.”
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