Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [1]
Of the crew, he had known Dr. Pulaski for the shortest time. She was also the person he understood least, and he knew that the feeling was mutual.
Therefore, unable to choose a gift with personal significance, he had opted for something he knew to be universally admired: a bellflower from Artemis Three, or as close as he could come to reproducing one. The live plants did not thrive outside their natural environment, and so were never exported. For the past two centuries-since the discovery of the delicate and precious blooms whose soft chiming was said to relieve stress-artists, artisans, and horticul turists had striven to copy the bellflowers. Some came very close, and their work commanded great respect and huge prices. The Enterprise computer contained the DNA pattern of the bellflowers, but Data did not want a cut flower that would die in a few hours.
He had quickly abandoned any idea of mutating a living plant, opting instead for as near-perfect an artificial replication as possible. A product of the holodeck, the artificial bellflower would seem as real and solid and beautiful as a naturally grown plant with one exception-it would last forever. And unlike an actual holograph, there was no need to turn the “plant” on or off. It was a perfect permanent fake. Data had wrapped the asymmetrical shape in the softest of tissue.
Other crew members gathered around as Dr.
Pulaski removed the wrapping. Loosed from the muffling material, the bellflowers began to chime, drawing “ooohs” from the audience, and the attention of an uninvited guest. Mystery, a Siamese cat who considered the entire ship her domain, had been wandering about, garnering stroking or bits of food here and there. There were many pets on the ship, but they were supposed to remain in the living quarters. Mystery, though, might show up anywhere at any time, despite concerted efforts to confine her to areas appropriate to animals. No one knew how she got through or around doors, detectors, or forcefields; hence her name.
Now the cat jumped up on the table to examine the source of the new sound. Pulaski ignored her, looking from the flowers to Data. “They’re absolutely beautiful!” she exclaimed in genuine amazement. “I hoped they would please you.” 4 “But, they can’t be real,” she said, gently fingering one of the leaves. “Oh, Data-you wouldn’t reproduce something so lovely that would only wither and die?”
“It’s a replication, Doctor,” Geordi explained, “created through transporter matter conversion.”
“Really?” Wesley asked, tapping one of the blooms. “It even smells organic.”
Mystery put up a hesitant paw, and set the flowers chiming again. “If I have succeeded in my attempt,” Data said, “the flowers should seem real to all human senses.”
Dr. Pulaski gave Data a smile with a touch of sadness in it. “But you can tell the difference, can’t you, Data?
“Only if I access other means of analysis than the normal range of human senses.”
“To which,” the doctor said flatly, “you usually confine yourself. I don’t understand why you should want to limit your abilities that way.” “I do,” said Geordi, laying a hand on Data’s shoulder. “So do I,” put in Commander Will Riker. After being forced to argue the case against Data’s right to make his own life choices, the Enterprise First Officer had not intended to come to the celebration. Data had gone to get him, understanding his uneasiness, but the usually ebullient Riker had been uncharacteristically quiet thus far, as if he hoped to escape notice. Geordi tensed.
Data knew his friend resented Riker’s claim to understanding. But Data knew Will Riker better than Geordi did, had seen him take in stride new lifeforms, customs, and laws, no matter how bizarre. Unlike most humans, Riker did not have to understand before he accepted; he had accepted Data from the moment they first met.
Irony was one human emotion Data understood; it was ironic