Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [49]
“I am Data. Chief O’Brien, you know me-I cannot appear that different-was “What kinda game are you playing? How’d you get Data’s uniform and equipment? If you’ve harmed him, there’ll be hell to pay, bet on it! Now hand over that phaser—and no tricks!”
As Data gingerly unholstered his phaser and proffered it handle-first to one of the guards, the doors slid open again, this time admitting Picard, Worf, Troi, and Riker. Picard stared, then glared.
“Who are you?” he repeated O’Brien’s first question. “Where is Data?”
“Captain, I am Data,” he tried again.
What had the Elysian gods done-placed his consciousness in a body that looked nothing like his android appearance? His uniform fit, his hands had the same slender fingers that had always belied his android strength .
. . but from the reaction of his friends, his face must be that of a stranger.
A stranger they assumed had brought harm to one of their colleagues. He saw anger on every face in that room, except-Deanna Troi put a hand on Picard’s arm. “Captain,” she said, “this man absolutely believes what he is saying. He is bewildered at our reactions. He truly believes he is Lieutenant Commander Data.”
“Thank you, Counselor,” Data said in relief. “Captain, I can explain. The Elysian gods-they might as well be truly supernatural for all we are capable of understanding.
They put me through their tests, and 136 because I aided one of their subjects … they granted my fondest wish. That was the source of the power surge you experienced just before I contacted you: they must access tremendous power to do what to us appears impossible.”
“Good God!” Riker whispered. “Is it true?”
Data grasped at the opening. “Commandersurely you can verify my identity. Ask me something an impostor could not know, something not in the ship’s logs.”
Riker studied him for a moment, then asked, “Where did we first meet?” “On the Enterprise holodeck.”
“What song were you singing?”
“I was not singing; I was trying to whistle “Pop Goes the Weasel.”” “You told me about wanting to be human. What did I say?” Riker asked.
Human or android, Data would never forget his feelings when he accessed the reference. “You said, “Nice to meet you, Pinocchio,” and I knew that I had been right to tell you. You understood then.
Please understand now.” Riker stared at him a moment longer. Then he said, “Captain, I can’t imagine how it could be done … but it appears our Pinocchio has become a real, live boy.”
“Or someone,” Worf growled, “has accessed all of Data’s memory banks.” “No,” Troi said. “This is definitely an organic being. It would not be possible to transfer an android’s entire memory into an organic brain.”
“You prefer to believe,” the Klingon said skeptical-137 ly, “that someone waved a magic wand and turned an android into a man?” “There was no magic wand involved,” Data supplied helpfully. Picard started. “That’s Data. Or at least he reacts like Data.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared at Data again. “We’re getting nowhere standing here. Take him to sickbay and see if Dr.
Pulaski can sort out who he is.”
It had not occurred to Data that his friends would not recognize him. Strange feelings coursed through the alien body he now wore. It was breathing hard,, and he could feel a pounding in the chest-the heart beating too fast, he realized. His android body had never reacted to his feelings, but he knew that human bodies did. Strange how he had fantasized about a heart skipping with joy, but never thought of it pounding in fear. What if they could not verify his identity? Would . they return him to Elysia, abandon him there? Or, thinking he had done away with the second officer of the Enterprise, try him for murder, or at least kidnapping? The truth verifier at a formal trial would reveal that he believed what he said-he could be placed in a hospital where doctors would attempt to cure him of what they would certainly believe was insanity!
None of these difficulties had ever occurred to him.
Why should they? He had never dreamed of really