Immortal Coil - Jeffrey Lang [30]
The man was red-haired and fair, but the woman, black-haired and small in stature, closely resembled Rhea. “Is your mother standing on the deck of a boat?”
Rhea called, “That’s the Ryo-oh-ki, one of the fishing boats she owned.”
“Fishing boats?” Data asked. “Commercial fishing?”
“Yes, commercial fishing,” Rhea said, poking her head into the living area. “Some Japanese people, especially the more traditional families, take fish very seriously. Many of them won’t eat replicated fish, especially if they’re having sushi. It doesn’t have the correct texture.”
“It sounds as if you know a great deal about fish,” Data said.
Rhea laughed an unexpectedly loud guffaw. “You could say that,” she said. “From the day I could walk, could crawl, I’ve been around fish. Worked on the boats and on the docks, hauled fish, cleaned fish, packed fish. Do you know what we’re having for dinner tonight, Data?”
Data considered, then guessed, “Fish?”
“No!” Rhea laughed. “Anything but fish. I hate fish. I joined Starfleet to get away from fish. Do you know what they told me I should specialize in at the Academy?”
“I will guess … marine biology.”
“Right!” Rhea said, laughing again. “So I went into security. I figured it was the one thing I could do where I would be least likely to come into contact with fish.”
“Have you encountered any fish so far in your career as a Starfleet security officer?”
“I had to arrest an Antedean once,” Rhea said, “but that’s been about it.” She retrieved a bottle of wine and a corkscrew from the dining area. “Do you drink wine?” she asked.
“Occasionally,” Data replied. “When my emotion chip is on, I enjoy the flavor, but alcohol does not affect me as it affects humans.”
“Never?”
Data considered the question before replying. “A xenovirus once invaded my positronic systems. It had an effect analogous to inebriation.”
“Ah,” McAdams said, and finished pouring the wine. She handed him a glass and smiled. “Cheers.”
They clinked glasses, and Data sniffed the wine, then tasted it, raised his eyebrows appreciatively. “This was not replicated?” Data asked, accepting the glass.
“Wine from a replicator …” She made a disgusted face.
“Did you know that Captain Picard’s family owns a vineyard?”
Rhea sipped from her glass, then smiled. “Yes, I did. I’ve had some of their wine. Most of it is quite good, though they have problems with some of their sparkling wines.”
“Really?” Data asked. “You should tell him. I believe his sister-in-law is currently managing the winery, but there have been times he has intimated that he might like to retire there someday.”
Rhea laughed again. “If I’m ever looking for a fast transfer off the ship, I’ll be sure to mention it to him.”
Data returned to studying the holograms. “And this is your father? Was he also a fisherman?”
“No,” Rhea replied, her voice softening. “He was a marine engineer. He and my mom met when he was in Kobe building a dock for her boats. They didn’t stay married for a very long time, though they were friends until he died. I was only seven and he didn’t live in Kobe very many years, so all I remember was this large, friendly man.”
“Forgive my ignorance,” Data said indicating the table, “but is this altar meant only to honor the dead?”
Rhea smiled sadly. “Only the dead, I’m afraid,” she said. “My grandmother died about ten years ago. And my mom …” She hesitated and it seemed to Data that she was struggling with how to say what she wanted to say next.
“If this subject is unpleasant for you,” Data said, “please do not feel like you must continue.”
Rhea looked up at him and said, “That’s not it. I was afraid to say too much about it because it might be painful for you. My mother died recently, too, about a year ago. She got tangled in a net and was pulled overboard …” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “It’s funny.