Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [158]
“Isaac?” Crusher interrupted, with an indulgent smile. “You’re rambling again.” It was a habit of the android’s that Crusher had noticed many times: a propensity to go on at length about trivia rather than tackle the matter at hand.
“Ah.” Isaac tilted his head in the other direction, his eyes shifting down and to the right, as though he were reading unseen text. “So I am. My apologies, Wesley.”
“You were about to tell me what’s bothering you, perhaps?”
Isaac nodded. “That was my intention. I find that I am…uncertain…about our current mission.”
Crusher crossed his arms, giving Isaac a thoughtful look. “Uncertain?”
The android paused for a moment. “As you know, I was not yet activated when Data and the other androids disappeared, though the early stages of my physical construction had already begun. When I woke to full awareness at the Daystrom Institute the following year, I was immediately recognized as a sentient being, with all of the rights and privileges of a Federation citizen.” He opened his mouth to continue, then paused thoughtfully. “Nearly all the rights and privileges, I suppose I should say. Even so, I never had firsthand experience with the kind of society in which Data and the others lived all those years. When I opted to enter Starfleet Academy, it was my decision, freely made, not a role assigned to me as a piece of property, as it had been when Data and those like him had been sent there.”
“Well,” Crusher said, chuckling ruefully, “the other difference is that those early positronic androids like Data had to suffer through four years at the academy, just like us organics.”
Isaac gave him a quizzical look. “Why should I have been expected to attend four years at the academy, when the base instruction of a Starfleet cadet had been incorporated into my original programming?”
Crusher shook his head. “Fast-tracked through the academy in only a year. I don’t think I’ll ever really forgive you for getting to skip Quantum Chemistry.” He thought back to those late-night cram sessions, and cringed. “I’m sorry, you were talking about Data?”
“Yes.” Isaac opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again before continuing. “I have always been intrigued by the mystery of the missing androids. I have spoken with older-generation Soong-types over the years, about Data and the others, but have never gotten a satisfactory answer. It is almost as if those who were in active service when Data and the others disappeared, but who remained behind at their posts, are actively hiding something.”
“Even from their younger siblings like you?”
Isaac nodded. “I have always suspected that the older Soong-types know more about the disappearance than they are telling.”
“Mmm.” Crusher rubbed his chin. “Maybe it’s not that they won’t tell you anything. Perhaps it’s that they can’t.” Then, in response to Isaac’s quizzical look, he explained. “Imagine that there was a bit of memory stored in your positronic matrix that you didn’t want ever to reveal. Couldn’t you simply write a new heuristic algorithm prohibiting yourself from calling up that memory and communicating it? A new bit of restrictive programming?”
Isaac was thoughtful. “It is possible,” he allowed. “But what would be the purpose of such a restriction?”
Crusher smiled. “Come on, Isaac, haven’t you ever heard of keeping secrets? Maybe the other androids knew about the disappearances, but didn’t want to run the risk of ever revealing anything. But if that’s the case…what could be the big secret?”
“It is precisely that about which I am uncertain.”
Crusher’s smile faded, as he gave the android an appraising look. “Is it? Or is it just that you’re nervous about the possibility of meeting Data?”
Isaac’s expression suggested the android equivalent of confusion. “Why should that possibility