Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [64]
Data was becoming accustomed to-the perceptible time lag in his performance. To his relief, when he called up his scores he found his reaction times well within Starfleet tolerances. As he settled back in his chair, he became aware of someone behind him, and found Will Riker looking over his shoulder.
“Good performance, Data,” he said. “First try?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent, then. You’re obviously qualified for helm duty. I will so note it in the ship’s log.”
“Thank you, sir. However, it is not navigation or to Ops or science skills that concern me most,” Data admitted, having gained confidence from the ease with which he had passed this first test.
“Worfl” Riker asked softly.
“I do not know if he will clear me for active duty.”
“Want me to give you some practice before he tests you?” Riker asked. “Thank you, Commander, but Darryl Adin is already doing that.” “From what I hear,” said Riker, “he used to be damned good. Probably still is, since he’s still alive.
Get him to help you with target practice, too, Data. His record as Starfleet sharpshooting champion still stands.” For the first time Data experienced the feeling described in the human clichd, “his heart sank.”
He had never given a thought to target practice, for as an android he had accessed the same telemetry that controlled the ship’s phasers and photon torpedoes. 178 The only way he ever missed was if his target moved unexpectedly after he had fired.
Now all that was gone. It would be as if he had never had a phaser in his hand before.
Despite a suddenly dry mouth, Data managed to say, “Thank you, Commander. I will ask Dare to help me with that, too.” But he could not help feeling that when the Enterprise came within range of the Samdian-Ifonor conflict, Data would find himself off the bridge, assigned to some assistant’s position in science or engineering.
Toward the end of the duty shift, Captain Picard returned to the bridge and took the command chair to bring his log up to date. Then he said, “Mr. Data, the bridge log indicates that you have proved your competency at navigation. Trade assignments with Ensign Gibson next shift.”
“Yes, sir.”
From his position on the upper bridge, Worf said, “When will you be ready to qualify on physical conditioning, weapons, and unarmed combat?” Data had to force his voice down into its natural register as he attempted to conceal his fears. “Those particular requirements are the ones most affected by my change in, uh, status. I respectfully request further time to practice before testing.”
“Sensible,” Worf replied, but his tone of voice made it an insult. “Inform me when you are prepared.”
“I hope to be ready before we reach the Samdian Sector,” Data told him. “Data,” Counselor Troi said gently, “I do not think you realize yet how much you are affected psychologically. 179 You cannot be ready for away team duty so soon.”
“But I-was Data broke off. He had never argued with his fellow officers before; if he started doing so now, they would surely think him emotionally unfit.
“I shall of course abide by your judgment, Counselor-but I feel compelled to add that-was “Don’t worry, Data,” Troi interrupted, giving him an understanding smile. “We’ll try to clear you for bridge duty as soon as possible.
And don’t try to control your emotions so harshly.
After what has happened to you, it’s normal for your feelings to be in warp drive. Suppressing them will only cause greater stress.”
Damn her Betazoid empathy! She must have been eavesdropping on everything he had felt since he came on the bridge. Oh, no-that would include his lapse in attention to duty when he had been diverted by the sensory impressions from Ensign Gibson.
Data felt his face grow hot, and knew he was blushing again. Troi, however, said nothing more, just gave him her understanding smile. Somehow, that only made him feel worse.
Their relief crew began appearing on the bridge just then, and Data was free to make a strategic retreat. Having sat still for several hours, he felt the