Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [116]
As it was an otherwise routine flight, Data had time to spend with his friends, both among the crew and among their unexpected guests. He brought Darryl Adin to the regular poker game one evening, and Dare won, resoundingly.
After the game, they joined the rest of Dare’s gang in Ten-Fore. Data sat down next to Pris Shenkley, with whom he had had some intriguing conversations when they first met on Treva. She seemed pleased to talk with him again.
This time he was not preoccupied with a mission, as he had been then, so he focused his full attention on her and learned a great deal about improvising weapons systems from outmoded technology. Eventually they found themselves the last people in the lounge. Guinan relieved the other hostess and put on coffee to brew for the next shift’s early risers.
Pris looked around, saying, “You know so much about technology, Data. You could probably do my job better than I can.”
“I do not think so,” Data replied. “Perhaps the construction, but not the design. It is not possible to program inspiration, intuition, improvisation.”
She gave him a softly wi/l smile that he didn’t quite understand. “No, I suppose not. But perhaps you can learn those things. Especially … intuition.” With that she stood and stretched. “Good night, Data.” “It is actually morning, ship’s time,” he pointed out. Pris chuckled. “Good morning, then, but I’m going to bed anyway. Perhaps we can work on your intuition at a time when I’m not so sleepy.” Data stared after her a moment, perplexed. Then he went over to the bar. He had drunk a glass of juice with Pris earlier, and had no need for further nutrients at the moment, but he often found Guinan’s conversation enlightening. So he sat on a stool and said without preamble, “I think I missed something.” 323 “Yes,” Guinan replied, “you did.”
“What?” he asked eagerly.
“Your friend wanted to know more about you.”
Data frowned. “She did not ask me any questions.”
Guinan’s face took on that infuriating smooth complacency which meant she was about to say something it would take the hearer a considerable time to understand-or that he might never figure out. “There are certain things a woman does not come right out and ask a man,” she told him. “But what could she not ask me? And why?”
Data asked. “When you work out what, was Guinan assured him, “you’ll know why.” Data then went to see how Sdan and Poet were coming with the repairs to their ships” computers. After that he had scheduled a science laboratory demonstration for the ship’s schoolchildren, and then he was due on the bridge.
Two days later Data helped put the finishing touches on the guidance systems for the ships of the Silver Paladin-just as his friends received word that their presence on Brancherion was no longer needed. “Damn the luck,” Poet cursed.
“We’d of made easy money if the matter was that simple to settle. Ah, well, win some, lose some.”
One day Dare received a message from the Samdian System, in his private code. He made no secret of the contents, however: he, too, was being called upon to help the people of Dacket against the Konor. As the Enterprise was far faster than Dare’s ships, he and his gang requested that they be allowed to “hitchhike” the rest of the way.
Captain Picard agreed comand as the Enterprise approached the Samdian 324 Sector, Data was plunged into the mystery of the Konor. According to the planet Dacket’s leader, Chairman Tichelon, the Konor had recently taken the planet Jokarn, and were now attacking his own world. The third planet that made up their economic community was Gellesen, which had sent Dacket weapons and troops, to no avail.
Geordi’s scans showed Dacket in detail.
Where the Konor had established themselves, all technology was operating except communications. No wonder messages from the Enterprise had been ignored: although the communications equipment built by the people of Dacket was still there, it had been shut down.
They focused in on a city the Konor had taken months before. People went about their business as if they