Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [177]
The Romulan leaned forward, putting her weight heavily on the console before her. “You are in no position to dictate terms, android,” she said haughtily, managing to make the last word an insult. She straightened, looking down the length of her nose at him. “I demand that I be allowed to send an inspection team down to the surface. If…if everything is as you say, them perhaps I will accede to your request.”
“That is acceptable,” Data answered. He gave her a set of transport coordinates. “I look forward to receiving your team.”
As the holographic screen winked out of existence, Data turned back to Picard and the others.
“I appreciate your desire to stay and learn our full circumstances, Captain,” he said, “and I very much hope that you will be of assistance to us as the situation progresses, but in the short term you and the rest of the away team could present something of a liability if discovered by the Romulans.”
“Agreed,” Picard answered.
“I will be happy to escort you to a secure location,” Lal offered, “where you will be able to monitor the situation remotely.”
Lore scoffed. “We should simply teleport a quantum warhead onto the warbird’s bridge and be done with it.”
Picard raised an eyebrow. While it was within the capacities of androids to kill, in extreme circumstances, their programming typically required them to exhaust all other avenues before resorting to such measures. The lengths to which the androids of Wolf 359 went in order to avoid killing even beings as dangerous as the Borg was a testament to that. The idea of an android so willing, so eager, to kill was cause for concern.
“Your opinions on this matter are well known, brother,” Data countered, calmly, “but the majority of the Turing population still agrees with my position, even given the arrival of the Haakona. We will give diplomacy every opportunity to fail before resorting to more drastic measures.”
It occurred to Picard to wonder precisely how Data was gauging the opinions of several thousand androids on the fly, but it was clear it was a question that would have to wait for another time.
“This way, please,” Lal said, heading toward the far end of the concourse. “We must hurry; the Romulans will arrive at any moment.”
Picard paused before leaving, turning to Data. “I request that Commander Isaac be allowed to remain behind and observe on my behalf.” He glanced in Isaac’s direction. “If he were to change out of his Starfleet uniform he would be indistinguishable from the rest of your inhabitants.”
Data’s head titled to one side fractionally as he considered the request. “Granted.” He turned to Lore. “Brother, please escort Isaac to a replicator capable of producing a suitable set of clothing.”
Lore sneered again. “Certainly, dear brother, as if I have nothing else to occupy my time.” He turned and started walking away at speed. “Come along, little wooden boy,” he called back without turning, “don’t keep me waiting.”
Picard and Isaac exchanged a glance. “Be careful, Isaac.”
“I will, Captain,” the commander said, and then hurried after Lore.
“This way, please,” Lal urged. “Haste is an essential quality in this circumstance.”
“Agreed,” Picard said. In the distance, he could hear the characteristic whine of Romulan transporters. “Let’s go, people.”
“Lore?” Isaac said, as he tried to keep pace with his escort. “Why do you address me as 'wooden boy’?”
They were moving away from the beam-in coordinates Data had provided the Romulans, but from far behind them Isaac’s auditory sensors could just detect the sound of Romulan transporters. It was difficult to say at this distance, but it sounded like a considerable number of bodies materializing.
Lore glanced over his shoulder, wearing an expression of mock surprise. “What, does Starfleet not teach its little mechanical toys to read anymore? Or have you never heard the story