Immortal Coil - Jeffrey Lang [50]
Conscious that Barclay was looking over his shoulder, Data said, “Intriguing. There are several very interesting enhancements to my base systems here.” He hit a combination of controls and brought up a display. “This auxiliary processing unit in the chest cavity is a compelling idea. I shall have to speak to Geordi about the feasibility of incorporating it into my own system.”
Reg shrugged disparagingly, but smiled despite himself. “Most of the structural changes were Professor Vaslovik’s ideas. My contribution was to the central processing center, the ‘holotronic’ brain, as Bruce dubbed it. Now that is a piece of work… .” He looked at the android’s head and corrected himself: “Was a piece of work.”
Data nodded sympathetically, then said, “Computer, pause.” The scanners ceased to wave. “Return to grid seven-alpha-gamma-nine,” he commanded. The tip of one of the scanners repositioned itself over the android’s cranium.
“Enhance,” Data requested. Barclay leaned forward to look at the display more closely.
The scanner tip glowed dull orange, then bright red and moved in small circles over the spot where the android’s forehead would have been if it had still possessed an entire head. As it spun, Data and Reg leaned closer until their heads were almost side by side, noses practically pressed to the screen. Finally, Data reached over, flicked a switch, and the red tip faded to black.
Reg Barclay murmured, “Oh, my.”
Data replied, “Indeed.”
McAdams came over to get a look at the screen. “What is it?”
“The android is a fake,” Data said, twenty minutes later.
The command crew had reconvened in the observation lounge, minus Dr. Crusher, who was still planetside, and sat around the table giving Data their undivided attention. Admiral Haftel was on screen, attending the conference from his office on the surface. It was he who spoke first.
“Are you saying that Commander Maddox and his associates were engaged in some sort of hoax?”
“No!” Reg shouted, almost leaping out of his chair. “Admiral—no! It’s a fake, but not our fake.” He shook his head. “I mean, we never made a fake. The android in Commander Data’s quarters is … it could never have supported a holotronic system. The cranium was an empty shell … a husk …”
“A forgery,” Data concluded. “But Mr. Barclay is doing it an injustice when he calls it an empty husk. Most of the systems an android would need to function were present, but when we examined the cranium, we discovered that there were only enough components present to give the appearance of a holotronic processing unit. Given the complexity of such a device and the difficulty of constructing even a reasonable facsimile, the fake could not stand up to careful scrutiny.”
“Then why,” Picard asked, “has this fact escaped everyone until now?”
“Misdirection, Captain,” McAdams said. “And a perversely clever delaying tactic. Given the loss of life and level of destruction, not to mention the convenient difficulty of retrieving the prototype from the wreckage, whoever did this knew that a detailed scan of the android’s brain wouldn’t be an immediate priority. Why look for something that’s obviously right in front of you?
“It also proves that there was a mind at work behind at least some of the events in the lab that night. Someone took the real android, for reasons still undetermined, and left evidence to make it appear as if it were merely destroyed.”
“An abduction, then,” Picard said, choosing his words deliberately. “Assuming you’re correct, could the perpetrators have been responsible for the malfunctions that destroyed the lab and killed Professor Vaslovik?”
“It is certainly possible they used the storm to their advantage,” Data answered. “Investigations into the malfunctions in the climate control system and power grids have not conclusively ruled out sabotage. As for the death of Professor Vaslovik—”
“Sir,” McAdams interrupted, addressing Admiral Haftel. “The implications of this are staggering. If the project was successful, then advanced AI technology may now be