Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [33]
Thelia asked.
“Not unless I were foolish enough to leave my hand in it for several minutes.”
“The heat of the smith’s forge?” she asked. “It melts iron and steel.” “Oh, that heat could damage me,” Data agreed. Recalling that the Elysian gods appeared to tailor their tests according to what they overheard from the questors, though, he did not elaborate. Actually, a forge such as Thelia’s people could build would not do more than external damage; that could be temporarily incapacitating if it destroyed his sensors or motor functions, but such damage was repairable. It would take the heat of an atomic firestorm to endanger his most vital and well shielded components. They had stopped again.
Thelia took another measured drink, then shook her head. “I cannot help but envy your strength and endurance.”
Data smiled sadly. “I envy your spirit, your creativity, your belief in a purpose to your existence. I would gladly give up all my mechanical strength and sensory acuity to be human.”
“You are not happy as you are?” she asked him.
“I … do not truly comprehend happiness,” he admitted. “I find satisfaction in performing my functions. I understand friendship and loyalty. But there are things that will be forever beyond me, experiences I observe in those I live among, but can never comprehend.”
To his consternation, he found her smiling at him. “Do you not realize that that is true of everyone, Data? No one is ever truly satisfied.” Data recalled Dr. Pulaski’s remark that lack of satisfaction was a good definition of being human. Unfortunately, he was not satisfied with the definition.
Thelia was still panting, but she continued, “We must go on now. The gods wish to test us, not destroy us.”
Data opened his mouth, then closed it again. She was right: there was no reason for the gods, as she had described them, to use “test to destruct” on their people. That they would not, judging from Thelia’s confidence, was apparently part of her knowledge of Quest lore. The path narrowed to another tunnel, which opened into a rectangular chamber, obviously artificial.
To the left was an archway through which they could see caverns glittering with ice; Thelia gravitated toward the cool breeze wafting from it. To the right the trail led upward, but blasts of heat poured from that narrow entrance.
“Burn or freeze,” Thelia said. She moved deliberately away from the coolness and toward the entrance from which came the hot air. She could not even reach the archway, but threw her arms over her face and retreated. “It is too hot, Data.
I cannot go in there.”
“Then it must be the other way,” he replied. “I can keep you warm if necessary.” He strode forward into the ice cavern. Here the formations were real ice. Thelia put her vest and cloak back on. The trail was level and easy, compared to the climbing they had done for the past few hours. Thelia said, “Let’s run.
That will keep me warm-was Data jogged easily beside her, noting that she knew how to pace herself. They continued this way for perhaps twenty minutes-until Data realized, “Thelia, we are going in circles.”
“What do you mean? I see nothing we have passed before.”
“The formations change, but we remain on the same level. We are making no progress. The scenery changes, while we waste time and energy running the same path repeatedly.”
She stopped, and turned to him, breathing heavily.
“You are certain?” “I am certain.”
“Then we must go back,” she said. “I don’t know how I can stand that heat, but I must.”
When they turned back, though, the scenery changed again. The smooth path became uneven, and suddenly there were rock formations in their way that had not been there before.
“A penalty,” Data said, “for making a wrong choice. I am sorry.” “How could you know?”
Thelia gasped, slipping down the side of an icy rock to land beside him. She rubbed her chapped hands together. Data took Thelia’s hands between his. “You should have brought