Survivors - Jean Lorrah [24]
This time, however, it did not distract Tasha. She continued on the same topic: “Why should it bother you not to be designed like a Starfleet recruiting poster, when more women throw themselves at you than at Will Riker?”
“Women do not-“
“Come on, Data-don’t pretend you don’t notice!”
Not knowing how to handle this turn of the conversation, he said, “I do not think women judge men by appearance so much as men judge women.”
“As usual,” said Tasha, “your observations are quite accurate-at least for humans. Remember what you said about how associating certain foods with pleasant occasions causes you to like those flavors when you encounter them again?”
“Yes,” Data said uncertainly, trying to make connections, food/aphrodisiacs/beauty, that didn’t seem logical. Then Tasha continued, and he saw that she meant something quite different.
“That’s something like how women see men. We think those men are handsome who look like the men we’ve loved. Psychologists say most women like men who resemble their fathers. Well, I didn’t have a father, so I suppose I will always find attractive anyone who looks like the first man who was ever good to me.” She grinned impishly. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to put up with me thinking you’re handsome, Data.”
“I … will consider it a compliment,” he replied, and grasped the opportunity to discuss his current topic of study. “Among humans there are more generally agreed-upon standards for female than for male beauty.”
“That’s right,” she told him.
“You are beautiful,” he said.
She seemed startled. “Some people think so.”
“It is generally agreed upon among the bridge crew. Yet you are quite different in appearance from Counselor Troi, who is also universally admired. Captain Picard thinks that Dr. Crusher is beautiful, while her son finds that fact both incomprehensible and disturbing.”
“Data-what have you been doing?” Tasha asked in dismay. “Taking a poll?”
“Yes,” he replied honestly. “I wish to comprehend human ideals of beauty.”
“You really do believe in wishing for the impossible, don’t you?”
He tilted his head. “Is it impossible? I realize that there can never be total agreement in matters of esthetic judgment, but surely there is a formula by which I can determine that, say, a majority of humans would consider a particular person beautiful. I find Commander Riker a most useful barometer of feminine beauty; thus far I have never found the majority, or even a significant minority, disagreeing with his assessment. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to ask him about President Nalavia.”
Tasha laughed. “Oh, I can tell you what he’d say about her, Data-and if you surveyed the entire complement of the Enterprise, you would find a significant minority indeed disagreeing with him!”
“I do not understand,” said Data.
“Every man aboard would say she is beautiful, and every woman would say she is not. Furthermore, all the women would be lying!”
“Tasha, you are confusing me,” Data objected.
“Nalavia is the kind of woman,” Tasha explained, “who by her nature attracts the attention of human males. She’s … practically an archetypal figure of the Earth-mother, but young and unmarked by strife or care. And she exploits it. That’s the difference between Nalavia and Deanna, who has a similar physical beauty. Deanna combines the no nonsense attitude of a Starfleet officer with the motherly sentiment that is part of her job as Counselor. Together they defuse the threat of her physical beauty.”
“Threat?” Data questioned.
“Deanna is almost too beautiful,” Tasha explained. “It could make men afraid to approach her. She handles it by being friendly and efficient. That’s why the women on board like and trust her as much as the men do. Nalavia, though … right through the viewscreen she was issuing an invitation to every human male on the Enterprise bridge.”
Data replayed the scene