Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [56]
passed by without his assimilating them. When he tried to access that information, as he had formerly been able to do with any data passing within range of his sensory apparatus, there was nothing there. He scrolled back to pick up the thread of the analysis again, and frowned. Someone else had continued it after he left the ship. He called up the user’s I.d.: Wesley Crusher. Of course.
Data smiled at his star pupil’s diligence.
If he had known he would be gone for days, he would have given Wesley that assignment. The boy had done well. He had not solved the problem of tracing the source, but he had eliminated several approaches. Data doubted he could have done more in the same time, although he would not have considered some of Wesley’s more imaginative attempts.
Satisfied that his basic knowledge and skills were intact, Data called up from ship’s stores the list of items available for crew quarters. He chose “Toiletries and Clothing” from the main menu, and the subcategory “Suitable for Humans.”
He already had hairbrush, comb, and tooth cleanser. The latter, though, was designed for android use; he ordered a toothbrush and the first dentifrice on the list. Data chose an automatic shaver, then watched with increasing wonder as the list of other possibilities scrolled by. Although with a sonic shower soap and shampoo were unnecessary, the ship stocked more than twenty varieties of each. Data let those pass for the time being. He also passed by perfumes and colognes, but having discovered how sharp his own sense of smell 155 had become he ordered a deodorant by the same process of designating the first on the list: He skipped past cosmetics, but paused over nail clippers and files, realizing that his nails would grow now, and it would be up to him to keep them at a utilitarian length. He ordered those implements, beginning to wonder how, with all the care it took to maintain a human body, he would ever find time to do his work.
Brushing that tickling strand of hair off his forehead again, Data backtracked to hair-care products.
While he had no interest in changing his hair color, or molding it into some fashionable style, he could use something to keep it in place. This time he did not choose the first thing on the menu, but consulted with the computer as to Commander Riker’s preference, and ordered that.
Foot comfort? Sexual enhancements? Skin care?
The list was endless. Data decided he would wait and order further items as he identified a need for them.
From the clothing menu he ordered a pair of soft slippers, and hesitated over sleepwear, reminded that he would have to sleep, too. Probably he should do so now, except that he was still too excited to feel the need. He was glad to have lived among humans for long enough to understand that this was a normal state of affairs.
When he did sleep, though, he would need a bed.
That was not something the dispenser could provide, so he called ship’s stores directly for a cabin refit, then turned back to the dispenser menu.
He knew that human taste in sleepwear ranged from nothing at all to some very exotic and ornate Costumes. Best to take a middle course until he found a 156 personal preference: he ordered a set of Starfleet issue pajamas and bathrobe.
That was enough, he decided, and instructed implementation. When he walked over to retrieve the items from the dispenser, he became aware of a heavy sensation low in his abdomen. It wasn’t a pain, but he sensed that he ought to do something to alleviate it.
His mind still operated logically: juice and soup meant an accumulation of more liquids than his body needed. He knew all about human anatomy-his degree in exobiology included study of all Federation races. However, he was going to have to learn the feelings from the inside now; things commonplace to a small human child were alien to Data. He hoped he could learn enough in the twenty-four hours Captain Picard had given him that he would not embarrass himself in public.
Having successfully put into practice