Immortal Coil - Jeffrey Lang [115]
“Has anyone told you about Vaslovik?”
“That he’s disappeared?” Rhea asked. “Yes, Commander Riker told me as I was on my way here. I’m not surprised. Just a little sad. I just wish he hadn’t felt like he had to go off alone like that again.” She shook her head. “He’s been alone so much. It’s really not fair …” Her head dropped and she leaned her forehead against Data’s chest.
The thought struck him harder than he would have expected. He’s been alone so much … In the seconds between the moment Rhea’s forehead touched his chest and she looked up at him again, Data had time to consider an eternity of such isolation. The image did not please him. He took her hand and said, “Stay with me.” He stumbled and halted, then forged ahead. “Somehow. Here on the Enterprise or somewhere else. It does not matter as long as we are together.”
Rhea stared at him silently for so long that Data began to feel uncomfortable. Then, she leaned forward very slowly and pressed her lips against his. They stayed that way for several seconds, her mouth moving against his, and, somehow, his fingers became entwined in her hair. When their lips parted, Data unconsciously checked his internal chronometer and found he could not reconcile the elapsed time it recorded. More time … or possibly less … must have passed.
Rhea grinned a little wickedly, but then the smile turned sad. “I’m sorry, Data. I think I would like that more than I can say. But it wouldn’t be long before I would begin to feel like I should go, and then it would be much, much harder.” She turned her face away from him. “I don’t think my future is here. The galaxy isn’t really ready for more of our kind. It would be better if I disappeared, too.”
Data felt a surge of panic rising up in him. He had been expecting this; it was the logical outcome, after all, but he still felt the need to fight it. “The knowledge exists, Rhea. You cannot unmake it.”
She sighed and squeezed his hand. “The information has been purged, Data. The computers in all the labs were wiped clean. Vaslovik saw to that. Yes, someday, sooner or later, someone else will piece it all together, but by then maybe the humans will have learned a little more. Maybe you’ll teach them.”
“I have no desire to—”
Rhea hushed him by putting a finger to his lips. “No, of course you don’t. Not now, in any case. And neither do I.” Before she could pull it away, Data kissed her fingertip slowly and carefully. She smiled, then continued, “I need you to know something: Sam left me a message he recorded onto an isolinear chip before he left on the shuttle. He gave it to Commander Riker to give to me. In it, he told me that he hadn’t come to the Enterprise solely because of the problem with the Exo III androids, though he had a pretty good idea the ship would become enmeshed in the problem. Mostly, he said, he was looking for me. His ‘fellowship’ has apparently been keeping tabs on Maddox’s work. They want me to join them, to experience the universe as they do.” She stepped away then, seemingly needing the distance.
“Do you remember what you asked me back on the station: what do I need?” She looked up at him, a sad half-smile playing on her lips. “I think we both know the answer now: I need to go.” She reached out to him, but then dropped her hand before he could move closer. “I love you, Data, but I need to go.”
Data desperately wanted to say, “And I cannot come with you,” but then, once again, intuition came to his rescue. He had not, he realized, been asked.
They said good-bye on the shuttlebay. The captain kindly agreed to “lend” Rhea a ship in exchange for a promise to ask the fellowship of AIs to send an ambassador to the Federation someday.
“I’ll ask,” Rhea said. “I have no idea what they’ll say.”
Picard nodded. “It’s a long shot, but one worth taking.” He held out his hand to shake, but she did not take it. Instead, Rhea came to attention. “Request permission to leave the ship, sir.”
Picard hesitated only for a moment, then smiled. “Permission