Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [77]
Before Worf could set up the target, Data turned to the Klingon as Dare had instructed, and asked, “Why don’t we make this a contest, Mr. Worf?” “Data!” Counselor Troi exclaimed in a tone of surprised warning.
“What did you read?” Pulaski demanded.
“Data believes he can outshoot Worf,” Troi replied. “He is actually supremely confident.”
“You don’t think he can?” Dare asked.
“How could he? You have proved an excellent teacher, Mr. Adin. I’m sure you have made Data competent, or you would not allow him to test, but
bring him up to the level of a Starfleet Security Chief in three days? No, I do not think so.”
“I’ll wager that he can win over Worf,” Dare challenged. “Will you take the bet, Counselor?”
“If she won’t, I will,” Worf said. “I am not judging this contest; the computer is.”
In moments wagers were flying. Dare and his gang bet on Data, but most of the Enterprise crew bet on Worf. Except for Dr. Pulaski, who asked, “Data, aren’t you going to wager?”
He hadn’t thought of it. But he recalled, “Worf says one should always bet on a sure thing. Yes, one hundred that I will win.”
“If you are that certain, then I will also bet on you,” said Pulaski. “One hundred.”
It was not a suspenseless contest; Worf was the Enterprise champion, and could not miss a fixed target. After six rounds at various distances, with both contestants making perfect scores, it began to get boring. They went on to moving targets. By this time people were marveling at Data’s surprising ability, but there were no complaints, as it was an even match. It took more than half an hour, with targets appearing at faster and faster speeds. Would they reach beyond the range of human reflex before there was finally a miss? What about Klingon reflexes?
At the thought, Data felt his hand spasm, and almost missed a shot. Desperately, he sought to retain the state of mind in which his hand automatically tracked the targets without his conscious volition. Then the “sky” was filled with flying missiles, and there was no hope of hitting them all. Again Data lost himself, firing rapidly in as efficient a pattern as he 214 could see. All around them “explosions” indicated missiles that had gotten past them, but he closed out the noise and flashes and kept firing . .
. firing-The sky went black.
Data dropped his shaking hand to his side, almost losing his grip on the phaser.
The audience remained hushed, waiting, until the computer’s voice announced, “Lightning barrage scores: Lieutenant Commander Data, 37; Lieutenant Worf, 36.”
A cheer went up from the assembled audience.
Worf turned to Data. “Congratulations,” he said. “You pass.” The Klingon then turned to Darryl Adin, saying, “Could you tell me, sir, how it is possible to so successfully transfer one’s skills to one’s students?” “If I knew how to do that consistently,” Dare replied, “I would know the secret of the universe. Data is something special.”
“Indeed you are, you little hustler,” Pulaski said softly, coming up next to Data.
“Hustler?” Only then did he realize the game Dare had played. He had understood that his mediocre performance in unarmed combat would encourage bets against him on the phaser range, but had not anticipated the gang’s wagers on the impossible.
Now he realized they had driven up the size of the later wagers.
“Don’t play innocent with me,” Pulaski was saying. “I can smell a hustle-but I’m not complaining, as I won a pretty penny on you.”
She shook her head. “If I hadn’t just scanned you, I’d swear you’d turned back into an android.
How’d you do it, Data?”
“That is exactly what I did, Doctor: Dare told me to forget being human, and shoot as I had all my life. I don’t know how it works without the telemetry, but it does.”
“And how did you get Deanna to play along in this little