Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [53]
full duty status.” She put the hypodermic away, asking, “You keep a personal log, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course I automatically-was He stopped, realizing, “It is gone.” “Gone?” she asked.
“It was in my memory banks.”
“Of course,” she said. “Well, use the computer, like everyone else. Your experiences are unique-please don’t neglect to record your feelings, your reactions, your descriptions of what has happened to you. I realize that some of it will be too personal to share, but I would ask that you grant access to an edited version-senior officers only, if you prefer.”
“Certainly,” he replied, feeling some relief. “I always stored such an edited version in the ship’s computer before. So all my records are not gone, after all.” He frowned. “Why did I not think of that immediately?” “After what you’ve been through?”
Geordi sympathized. “How can you possibly be thinking straight?”
“Geordi’s right,” Pulaski agreed. “How do you feel now?” “Normal?” he asked. “No physical discomfort? I am sorry, Doctor-I do not yet know how I am supposed to feel when in optimum condition.” “Pretty much the way you do now, but without the stress caused by shock,” she replied. “I’m releasing you, then, but don’t hesitate to come back here, or call for help if anything happens that you don’t understand.” So Data rose, and found his legs steady. The spray Dr. Pulaski had used on his cuts had stopped even that slight pain. .
“I guess TenForward’s out for now,” Geordi said ruefully. “Yes,” Data nodded. “I think I will just go to my quarters.” “Do you want me to come with you, Data?” Geordi asked. “I have not forgotten the way,” he replied, more harshly than he intended. Geordi stared at him, hurt etched on his face. “I did not mean—” Data began, then shook his head. “Forgive me, my friend,” he said sadly. “I think I want to be alone for a while.
This is all so new-let me find out what it feels like to be human without trying to hold a conversation at the same time. I think, later, we will have much to talk about.”
“Sure, Data,” Geordi replied softly.
“I understand.”
It took more effort than Data was accustomed to just for the simple act of walking the corridors of the Enterprise. His door did not open at his approach, for when he had left the ship the computer had routinely ,placed it on privacy lock. When he palmed the keyplate, though, it accepted his identity and the door slid open.
“Computer,” he instructed, “discontinue privacy lock.” No one on board the Enterprise would enter his quarters without invitation.
Only Bruce Maddox had ever done so, in the belief that Data was not a person and therefore not entitled to privacy.
If he could see me now. Oh, yes, there was one person who would be sorely disappointed at what had happened to Data-but Data himself was at the beginning of a whole new life, a little frightened, but 148 also eager to see what else besides taste he had been missing for twenty-seven years.
The first thing to do-With trepidation, Data walked to where he could see himself in the full-length mirror on his cabin wall. He stared. No wonder his friends didn’t know him! Who was this dark stranger?
But that was just a first impression. Actually, he was pale, but no longer android-pale. His skin had the color of human flesh untouched by the sun, a rather sickly light pink hue. It was as Dr.
Pulaski had said: he was brand new. But the ship’s lighting was designed to provide the spectrum of light required by the various species aboard, without including harmful radiation. Soon his skin would acquire a more natural color without any effort on his part.
The impression of darkness came from hair and eyebrows and a shadowy hint of beard. He felt his mouth twitch at the idea that he would have to shave, and saw his reflection smile back at him. His lips were darker pink than his skin, and therefore appeared fuller. Instead of sketchily molded in pale lines, his eyebrows were heavy and thick, and his hair-to It wasn’t darker, exactly, but more . .
. shadowed than it had been. His android hair