Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [38]
It was a chilling thought, Scott mused. Machines had no business being in charge of starships. They’d proven that a hundred years go, the time Starfleet inflicted the M-5 unit on them.
“I am the only android presently serving in Starfleet,” Data responded. “Nor was I created to do so. I was originally designed and built by Dr. Noonian Soong, a cyberneticist, who had no idea that I would one day become an officer on a starship. As for my joining the Enterprise… my career path was not unusual. Like anyone else, I first attended Starfleet Academy and served in lesser capacities on various other vessels.”
The human nodded. There was something strangely likeable about this mechanical man. He was so forthcoming, so honest. So downright… friendly. And no doubt, an excellent source of information. After all, his name was Data, wasn’t it?
I can use a source of information, Scott told himself. Especially one who doesn’t seem to mind my asking a bunch of questions-unlike that upstart La Forge.
And he still had lots of questions. About the warp engines, the transporter units, the phaser banks, the sensor array… and of course, about Data himself.
Scott put his hand on the android’s shoulder. “I’d like to speak with ye sometime at greater length,” he said. “I dinnae suppose he’ll be getting off duty soon, eh?”
“As a matter of fact,” Data told him, “I am off-duty right now.”
A stroke of luck-one of the few Scott had had since boarding this ship. “Are ye now? Splendid. Then maybe there’s some place we can chew the fat a bit.”
The android looked at him, his golden eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Then, abruptly, he seemed to understand.
“Chew the fat,” he repeated. “Converse. Engage in discussion.” A pause. “I would like that,” he concluded. “And I believe I have an appropriate venue in mind. It is called Ten-Forward.”
“Wherever ye like, laddie,” said Scott. He’d never heard of Ten-Forward; it was probably a lab of some kind. But then, that didn’t really matter, did it? After all, they were going there to exchange information, not to swap tall tales over a bottle of Saurian brandy.
Data had barely escorted Captain Scott into the Ten-Forward lounge when he knew he had made the right decision. It was obvious from the man’s broad grin and the way he rubbed his hands together that Scott felt right at home here.
“Why did ye nae tell me ye had a tavern on board?” he asked the android.
Data looked at him. “You did not ask,” he replied.
That brought a flood of laughter from Scott. “Ah, Mr. Data, I had my doubts about ye, I must admit-but ye’re nothing like the androids I used to know.” He slapped Data on the back. “Lay on, Macduff.”
The android looked at him. It took his positronic brain a moment to find the reference. And even after it had, he didn’t quite grasp the connection.
“Macduff was a character in William Shakespeare’s Macbeth,” he noted. “What does that have to do with-“
“It’s only an expression, lad, only an expression. Here now, that looks like the bar. What do ye say we belly up to it?” And without waiting for an answer, he took the second officer by the arm and pulled him in the necessary direction.
As they sat down on neighboring stools, a waiter came over to them. “May I help you, sir?” he asked Scott, who was nearer to him.
“Aye, lad. Scotch. Neat.”
“And you, sir?” the waiter asked Data.
“I will have the same, ” the android replied.
Scott gazed at him with new admiration. “Thatta boy, Mr. Data-though I would nae have figured ye fer a scotch man.”
“I am not a scotch man,” the android told him. “In fact, this is the first time I have ever placed such an order.”
“Is that so?” said Scott. “Well, then, ye’re in fer a most pleasant surprise.” He paused. “Unless, of course, alcohol does nae agree with ye.” Then he rolled his eyes and chuckled. “What am I thinking? If it did nae agree with ye, ye would nae have brought me here, now would ye?”
As Data puzzled over Captain Scott’s remarks, the waiter brought them their drinks. Scotch