Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [118]
“I do not understand.”
“History, Data. The fiercest wars in all the history of the galaxy have been fought over religious differences. What ought to be the balm and consolation for the trials of life is made the instigator of fury and grief.” Thralen stopped pacing, and rested his hands on the back of Data’s chair.
He then told Data of his own experiences with religious disputes, revealing more than Data had ever learned before of the ship’s sociologist: his own family had rejected Thralen when he pursued a course of study opposed to their fundamentalist beliefs in the Great Mother. Data felt inadequate, but Thralen did not seem to notice, accepting Data’s comprehension the way Dare had that time Data had taken him Tasha’s Farewell.
Data was far out of his element here. Still, he had to say something.
“I have stored in my memory banks gigabytes of information on religions throughout the galaxy. I can quote it at length, but I do not understand it. I am sorry, Thralen. I have no way of knowing what gods are-which is why I had hoped actually to meet up with the gods of Elysia.”
“If you had been able to do so, it would have proved they were not gods as I believe in God,” Thralen replied. “Beyond anything the sentient mind can comprehend, there is a force that drives the universe, Data. Only when we leave this state of existence will we meet and comprehend it.” “We?” asked Data. “You believe in an existence after death. You believe you have a soul.”
“Oh, yes. There is no doubt of it.”
“I do not know if I have one.”
Thralen smiled. 7 know you do,” he replied, “and not because of a Judge Advocate’s ruling.”
“Her ruling was that I have the right to try to find out if I have one,” Data pointed out.
“Well then,” Thralen said, “perhaps the Konor can tell you. If they call themselves “those with souls,” that implies that they can recognize a soul when they see it.” But Data heard the sarcasm in the anthropologist’s voice; neither of them could credit people of such viciousness with any degree of sensitivity.
“It’s time to go down to the planet,” Thralen said decisively. “We must have direct information to verify our conclusions. Come on, Data-let’s take our findings to the captain.”
On the trail of clues to a mystery, Data was in his element. Captain Picard called Chairman Tichelon, who provided the information that the Konor called the other Samdians “Ikonor”-meaning simply “not Konor,” he explained.
“It is more than that,” Thralen said. “It confirms our fears, for it means “those without souls.”” It was obvious Tichelon had not expected them
derive the root meanings of the terms. He protested, “The insults they cast at us are not the issue. Our people are being murdered, Captain. You have been here for almost a day, and done nothing!” Picard took a controlling breath and said, “We are going to attempt to communicate with the Konor. If we succeed, will you accept representatives of Starfleet as mediators? May we say you have agreed?” “Yes-yes, of course! But they will not listen to you. Do you think we haven’t tried? They killed all of our people who tried to communicate, even those who offered surrender.”
There was another strategy session in the observation lounge. It was decided to send an away team to meet the Konor. Deanna Troi insisted on being part of it.
Data watched Will Riker watch the captain, the First Officer’s “poker face” betrayed by a slight wince when Picard agreed. “You’ll need the best protection we can give you,” the captain continued.
“Worf, Riker, Data.”
“Captain,” Thralen said, “I should be there.” His antennae quivered nervously. “Even if Data and I are right, on direct contact we will certainly see more. Perhaps something that will persuade them to make peace.”
“Agreed,” Picard said. “I want all communications left open, and a tricorder channel providing a visual to both the bridge and the transporter room. At the first sign of a threat, the away team are to be beamed up at once.”
“What about the fact that they go naked?” Worf asked, grimacing slightly.