Encounter at Farpoint (14 page)

“I suggest you take Data with your away team, Commander. His analytical abilities—”

“—are those of a computer. We’ll be taking tricorders, sir. The information we send back can certainly be adequately analyzed by the ship’s computer.”

“I see.” Picard studied Riker with a new consideration. He hadn’t thought the man would object to working with one of the most remarkable officers in Starfleet. Of course, if Riker didn’t perceive Data as an
officer,
but only as a machine, he could not be expected to appreciate the android’s qualities. “You must already know Data’s personal medical-technical records are ‘eyes only’ to me.” Riker nodded. “However, his service record is open to any senior officer. I suggest you take some time to study it.”

“Yes, sir,” Riker said stiffly.

“I also suggest you take the time to get to know Data himself.”

“As a
person,
sir?”

Picard ignored the barely hidden sarcasm. “As a fellow
officer,
Commander Riker. I take it you have no problem accepting Klingons or Vulcans or any other alien in Starfleet in that capacity?”

“No, sir.”

“You may come to find Data is easier to accept than any of them when you discover how he regards humans. To the others,
we
are aliens. Data has a different view. You would profit by exploring it.”

“Yes, sir. May I be dismissed?” Riker glanced away, some color creeping into his cheeks. He was genuinely embarrassed by the quiet dressing down. “To pursue the subject?” he added.

Picard nodded curtly and turned back to his viewer. Riker stood and quickly left. Picard glanced up again as the door slid closed behind him. If he was any judge of character, Picard was positive young Commander Riker would benefit from the study.

Riker spent an instructional half hour with the android’s service record. There were an enormous number of subjects in which Data was qualified as an expert. He had two degrees conferred by Starfleet. Data had been given Starfleet promotions on a regular basis and had served (with commendations from the captains) on three vessels before coming to the
Enterprise
as its second officer. If it had been the file on anyone else in the fleet, Riker would have regarded it as the record of a successful and extremely competent officer. The fact that he knew Data was an android still colored his judgment about him. Obviously, Picard saw more in him—
it
—than the mere printed facts of the record could convey. He was going to have to face the man—machine—and personally explore what he—or perhaps
it
—was all about.

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 that 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.”