Metamorphosis - Jean Lorrah [99]
“Number One,” the Captain said grimly, “the moment we found ourselves helpless to resolve the situation peacefully, interstellar war became a distinct possibility. Any act on Mr.
Adin’s part will have little or no influence in the matter.”
DATA COULD NOT SLEEP that night, could not stop thinking of Thralen, or any of the events of the last few days. He was not invited to the holodeck for Thralen’s farewell to his colleagues, as he had really only gotten to know the Theskian sociologist during their work on the Samdians. The personal loss of a colleague was aggravated by the general sense of failure hanging over the Enterprise: They had left Elysia without solving the problem of the power surges, causing Starfleet to warn anything smaller than a starship to make a costly detour around that system, and now they had failed to make peace among the Samdians.
It was far from the first time in Starfleet history that a starship was forced by the Prime Directive to refuse aid to oppressed people, but it was the first time Data and his fellow crew members had had to face such a situation. It felt like betrayal.
After his duty shift, Data found his quarters oppressive. He felt closed in, confined.
All the other senior 275 officers’ quarters were on the outer hull, with viewports. Data’s were as large and well-equipped as theirs, but on the opposite side of the corridor. Androids did not suffer claustrophobia. But he wasn’t an android anymore.
Wanting a sense of open space, he went to the nearest observation lounge-only to find Will Riker there before him. The first officer turned when the doors swooshed open.
“I’m sorry,” Data said, starting to back away. “No, it’s all right-come on in, Data,” Riker said. “You probably need as badly as I do to be reminded of what we’re out here for.” He looked back at the motionless stars.
“Exploration. Expanding horizons.” Data realized that the view from the first officer’s quarters, on the other side of the ship, would include the planet they still orbited. Riker continued, speaking with little inflection, “New knowledge, new life, new civilizations. We have to balance that against the hard choices.”
Data could hear that Riker had not yet restored that balance after the events on Dacket. Trying to find a point of contact, he offered, “Experiencing personally what had been only theoretical knowledge is sometimes … painful.”
“God, yes,” Riker replied, still staring out at the stars as if he could not face Data and say what he had to say. “Do you remember when we found the Portal of the T’Kon Empire, Data?”
“Yes. The first time we had direct contact with the Ferengi.” Riker nodded. “And they accused us of obstructing commerce, withholding technology and defenses from backward planets.”
“We have to do that,” said Data. “It would be unforgivable to put modern weapons into the hands of those who do not understand their potential. They would destroy themselves.”
“Oh, yes,” Riker agreed. “That application of the Prime Directive is easy to understand. But this is the other side of the coin, Data, that we know is there, but somehow never expect to turn up. The side that forces you to walk away, when you know the strong and violent are going to close in behind you and devour the weak.”
Data could think of nothing to say to that. “Perhaps,” he suggested after a pause, “Dare’s plan will work.”
Riker turned to look at him. “You don’t really think so any more than I do. Adin will be lucky to get his own people away from here alive.”
Data opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again.
Adin was a survivor, but he had lost followers before. Data didn’t want to think what this job might cost his friend.
So he just stood for a time, looking out at the panorama of space, trying as Riker was doing to remind himself of the reason they were all out here. After a time, with little improvement in his attitude, he left the first officer of the Enterprise still staring out at the unresponsive stars. He ate dinner with Geordi that night-although neither had much appetite. For once the two friends