All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [13]
Unperturbed, Data ushered them in. “What a pleasant surprise this is.” And then, glancing back at the departing housekeeper: “Tea and biscuits for everyone, Jessel.”
CHAPTER 6
To Picard, Data’s library looked like something out of a Sherlock Holmes story… spacious, comfortable, the walls lined with a wide assortment of leather-bound books. He could smell the oils that had been used to preserve them. A fire—not a real one, ofcourse, but a rather authentic-looking hologram—was roaring cheer-fully in the hearth.
And there were any number of cats wandering about or sleeping on the furniture. Apparently, the android’s mixed experience with Spot hadn’t turned him off to felines altogether.
La Forge nodded appreciatively. “This is quite a house you have here, Data. I see they treat professors pretty well at Cambridge.”
The android shrugged. “Holding the LucasJan Chair does have its perquisites. This house originally belonged to Sir Isaac Newton when he held the position. It has since become the traditional residence.” He paused. “Of course, being a creature of habit, I tend to use only three of the forty-seven rooms in the manor.”
Just then, Jessel entered the room with a silver tea service, which gleamed in the firelight. Judging by her
expression, she’d been keeping track of their conversation.
“Might as well board up the rest of the house, for all the use it gets…” Her voice trailed off, but she’d made her point.
Wiping her hands on her apron, she leaned in close to La Forge and spoke quietly—though not so quietly Picard couldn’t make out what she was saying. “You’re his friend, eh?”
He saw the former engineer nod. “That’s right. And I have been for quite some time.”
“Well then,” said the housekeeper, “as his friend, see if you can get him to take that gray streak out of his hair. He looks like a bloomin’ skunk, he does. People will soon start walking on the other side of the street when they see him coming.”
Data, who had obviously overheard, cast a remonstra-tire look at Jessel. “Thank you,” he told her. “That will be all.”
Without another word, she made her exit. The android turned to his guests with a wry look on his face.
“She can be trying at times,” he admitted. “But she does make me laugh now and then.”
La Forge smiled. “So… what is it with your hair, anyway?”
Picard was glad someone else had mentioned it. Unfortunately, Data looked a bit embarrassed. “I have found that a touch of gray adds an air of… distinction,” he explained. “Unfortunately, I don’t seem to have it quite right yet.” Indicating a pair of chairs, he glanced at each of his old comrades in turn. “Please,” he said. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
Crossing to the tea set, the android began to pour. When he was done, he brought them their cups.
Then, sitting down himself, he eyed Picard. “Since neither of you has a predilection for sudden visits, I assume you are not here just for afternoon tea.”
Picard nodded, grateful for the opening. “That’s true. Data, I need your help …. “
It took a while for him to explain what had happened: to him—even longer than it should have, perhaps, thanks to his illness. But in the end, he managed to get it all out.
“I know how it sounds,” the older man finished. “But it happened. It was real. I was back on the Enterprise.”
He saw Data and La Forge exchange a look—but he was willing to disregard it. After all, he told himself, if their positions and his were reversed, he would have been a bit skeptical as well.
“Temporal displacement would normally leave a residual tachyon signature,” the android noted, as a clark brown cat walked over his lap. “I’ve scanned’ you, sir, but I can’t see anything out of the ordinary.” Turning to La Forge, he asked, “When this happened, did you notice anything unusual?”
The man with the artificial eyes shook his head. “No. We were walking through the vineyard and he just… stumbled.”
Data considered that for a moment. He looked back to Picard. “And you say this happened