Immortal Coil - Jeffrey Lang [36]
“Not exactly the same thing, is it, Data? I mean, Commander Riker and the counselor—that was a long time ago. And the captain and Dr. Crusher—that’s theoretical at best.” It was a common topic of conversation on the ship, but no one knew for certain the status of the relationship between their commanding officer and the chief medical officer—not even the two themselves, Geordi suspected.
There was silence for several seconds, so Geordi said, “Data?”
“Yes, Geordi.”
“Ask her to breakfast, but wait until tomorrow morning.”
“Would seven hundred hours be an acceptable time to call her?”
“Yes. Wait, no. Make it seven-thirty.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It just feels better.”
“Thank you, Geordi.”
Data inhaled deeply, seemingly well pleased with the answer. “Another question?” he asked.
Geordi bunched up the pillow under his head, laid the combadge on his chest and closed his eyes, settling in for a long conversation. “Go ahead.”
“Would it be inappropriate to take her flowers?”
“No,” Geordi said. “I can’t imagine why it would be. Women like to get flowers. Most of them, anyway.”
“Right now?”
“No, not right now. Maybe tomorrow. At breakfast.”
“Ah. Excellent suggestion. May I ask—?”
“Go ahead, Data.”
Data proceeded to bombard La Forge with a series of questions and observations about dating and interpersonal relationships. Some of them were charmingly naive, some insightful and a few quite odd coming from a person whom La Forge had always considered one of the most intelligent mature individuals he knew. He suddenly felt like he was back in the Academy again having a bull session with one of his roommates.
After about an hour, it grew to be too much. Though it was obvious that his friend had quickly grown to care about Rhea McAdams and was impatient for things to move forward as quickly as possible, Geordi’s mouth was growing dry and he was fading into sleep. Muzzily, he said, “Data? That’s enough. Can we continue this conversation tomorrow?”
“But Geordi—”
“No, Data. Really, that’s enough. I understand how you’re feeling, but you can’t do everything in one night. You just have to take things slow. Don’t scare the poor woman. You have all the time in the world.”
Data did not reply immediately and Geordi worried that he might have hurt his friend’s feelings. Then, just as he was about to apologize, La Forge heard Data say, “Yes, Geordi. You are correct. I do.” Then, he added softly, “But no one else does.”
PART TWO
Seventy Years Ago
“DAMMIT, IRA,” SOONG MUTTERED, rubbing his neck. “I thought you said you could climb.”
Graves grunted something profane, then admitted he had misjudged the distance to the shelf. The drop had been less than two meters and his elbow barely clipped Soong’s neck, but there had been a frightening moment when both of them had almost tumbled off the ledge.
“Are you two all right down there?” Vaslovik called through the comm. They had agreed that he shouldn’t attempt the descent until they had gotten themselves situated and made sure the ledge was stable.
“Yes,” Soong and Graves said simultaneously.
“Good,” Vaslovik said, sounding, for all the world, like a tutor disciplining two unruly schoolboys. “How does it look down there?”
Graves pulled out his tricorder and checked the ledge, though Soong noticed that Ira had a hard time keeping his eyes off the body. Soong was willing to admit that he was having trouble doing the same. The readings he had taken while waiting for Ira were baffling and inconclusive. To begin, it was difficult to estimate the find’s age, partly because of the refrigerating cold and partly because the minerals had leeched into its “flesh.” Still, even a very conservative estimate meant the humanoid that lay there before them was thousands upon thousands of years old. Soong had reset his tricorder at least three times and had kept getting the same unbelievable reading.
Ira stared at his tricorder and groaned.
“Are you all right?” Soong asked.
“I … I’m fine,” Ira said. “But my tricorder must have been damaged in the fall. This can’t