Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [164]
“Commander Ro,” Picard said, half turning in his seat, “hail the Romulan vessel.”
Ro opened her mouth to reply, but before she did she was interrupted by a voice from the far side of the bridge.
“I do not think that would be a wise course of action, Captain.”
Isaac’s responses were quicker by orders of magnitude than any of the organic officers on the bridge, so he was the first one to lay eyes on the figure standing a few short meters away: an early Soong-type android, dressed in a simple tunic and pants, a faint smile on his face.
If Isaac was the first to see the newcomer, though, La Forge was the first to respond.
“Data?”
The android’s smile broadened. “Hello, Geordi. It has been a long time.”
3
Geordi La Forge sat with his arms crossed over his chest. He was sure that he was probably scowling, but just as sure that he didn’t care.
He and the rest of the senior staff were seated around the table in the observation lounge, with Picard at one end and Data at the other. It was almost like old times, having Data back here in the conference room, all of them gathered together to solve some puzzle or other. Almost, but not quite. Because, unlike those fondly remembered old days, this time Data was the puzzle to be solved.
“Do you mind, Data, explaining just how it is that you managed to get aboard?”
La Forge noted that Picard didn’t call him Mister Data, just Data.
“With our shields raised, Captain,” Ro put in, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “But even if they hadn’t been, ship’s sensors should have detected the beam-in.”
“But I did not beam in, Commander Ro,” Data said, his voice quiet and calm. “At least, not in any way that you would understand.”
“Just what is that supposed to mean?” Ro leaned forward in her seat in an aggressive posture.
Data shook his head. “No insult intended, Commander. I simply mean that the technology involved is beyond the Federation’s grasp at this stage.”
“What technology?” Lieutenant Crusher asked.
“Precisely my question,” Picard said, leaning back, his fingers laced atop the table’s surface. “I believe, Data, that we are still waiting for an explanation. Why are we here, how are you here, and what is this all about?”
Data nodded, lifting his hands in a gesture of apology. “Tell me, Captain, do you recall the legends of the Iconians?”
La Forge raised an eyebrow. Iconians? Why was Data bringing up ancient mythology?
“Of course,” Picard replied. “I studied them under Richard Galen at the academy.” La Forge saw a faint smile tug the corners of the captain’s mouth, and remembered him saying on many occasions that, if he were not in command of a starship, there was nowhere he’d rather be than at an archaeological dig with spade in hand. La Forge felt that archaeology had lost out when a young Jean-Luc Picard had opted to join Starfleet.
At La Forge’s side, Commander Isaac’s head tilted to one side, his eyes taking on the thousand-meter stare of an android consulting his internal memory banks.
“An interstellar civilization that vanished two hundred thousand years ago,” Isaac said after a brief moment, “said to have the ability to appear on distant planets without the aid of starships.”
“Quite right,” Picard said, nodding. Then, in a somewhat quieter voice, he said, “Demons of Air and Darkness, the legends called them.”
Data glanced in Isaac’s direction appraisingly before answering. “The current occupants of the second planet, of which I am one, have named it Turing. It has been, these last ten years, a refuge for androids, a planet-sized laboratory dedicated to exploring the limits of artificial life. But the planet was not chosen by accident. The year before I left the Federation, an archaeological expedition on Denius III unearthed a star map that appeared to point the way to a forgotten starfaring empire.