Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [55]
Not particularly alarming, but both feet had slight, unpleasant burning sensations. He had no calluses, he remembered; climbing over the rocks and then up the cliff wall in his unsuccessful attempt to contact Elysia’s gods had given his new body quite a workout.
Now it had a sort of vague overall ache.
Data realized he was experiencing tiredness, and sat down to take off his boots. He rubbed at one annoying ache, and discovered how good that felt. Data had given massages in his life as an android, but had never received one. To an android body, it was pointless.
He smiled at the world of simple pleasures opening to him. He pulled his socks off, knowing that if there had been any real damage Dr. Pulaski’s instruments would have indicated it, but still needing to see for himself. Like his hands, his feet were the same size and shape as before, but there were red marks across the toes and on each heel.
They also gave off an odor. Humans bathed daily, Data knew. He had only ever needed to do so when he got dirty. Now he must add bathing and shaving to his daily schedule.
He stood and unzipped his uniform-to discover a veritable coat of fur on his chest! What other surprises lay in store? He stripped, and turned in front of the mirror. Yes, it was his own familiar body shape beneath the human coloration and the extra hair. He decided to clean it and cover it up again.
The sonic shower warmed and vibrated his abused muscles as it whisked him clean. Officers’ quarters included water showers as well. Data had occasionally used water for cleansing when that was the method provided on a planet, but aboard ship he had always used the more efficient sonics. He was tempted to try the water shower, aware that humans considered water more pleasurable than sonics, but his stomach was sending him a message he recognized from sickbay: he was hungry.
So he completed his shower quickly, tossed his used uniform into the cleaning unit, and put on his spare.
But he didn’t want to put his boots back on.
. He didn’t own slippers; android feet did not require changes of footwear. What else did he need? There was nothing in his closet now but his dress uniform; his other everyday uniform would be cleaned and returned automatically.
The carpeting felt good beneath his bare feet, so Data padded to the food dispenser. Soup, Pulaski had said. But what kind? “Give me a menu of soups suitable for human consumption,” he instructed. “Alphabet, apple, argramine, asparagus, beta153 resnis, cavistat, cheddar cheese, chicken broth, chicken consomme, chicken noodle, chicken vegetable, cream of asparagus, cream of broccoli-was “Stop!” Data ordered. Eating was obviously going to be an adventure. He might as well begin at the beginning. “Alphabet soup,” he instructed, trying to remember what that was. He wasn’t sure if he had ever known. How much memory loss had he suffered in liis transformation? Enough to impair his performance as a Starfleet officer? That was the most frightening thought he had had yet.
The dispenser provided a steaming bowl of soup.
Data carried it to his computer console, and punched up the analysis of Elysia’s power surges that he had begun before they had received the distress call from Dare’s gang. His fingers flew over the keyboards as naturally as ever. That was a relief.
He also understood everything on the screen; his mathematical competence seemed unimpaired.
However, he had to slow the information feed; his human brain could not assimilate data so quickly. While he watched the information scroll, he picked up the bowl of soup. It smelled wonderful, and the combination of heat and melded flavors proved delicious. It was a vegetable broth laden with pasta shaped like letters of the Roman alphabet. Hence, he assumed, the name.
But why had anyone thought to form the pasta that way? It added nothing to the flavor.
Suddenly Data realized that while his attention