Survivors - Jean Lorrah [54]
Love was something Data had never had the temerity to analyze … and yet he sometimes wondered if that was the underlying reason for his sudden growth in his new assignment. He was given more freedom by Picard than by any other Captain he had served with, and when he used it to pursue his own interests there was never a reprimand, except when he occasionally allowed his voracious curiosity to interfere with his duty. He was ashamed of how frequently that happened-yet how could he resist revelling in an opportunity he had never had before?
Along with freedom had come responsibility. Data had been amazed when he learned that his assignment to the Enterprise was not in the science department, or even as Science Officer, the highest post he had ever aspired to. When he accessed his new orders and saw that he was third in command he had at first believed it to be human error. Someone had input the wrong serial number, surely.
But it was true-and not only was he suddenly a member of the command structure heretofore reserved strictly for organic beings, but Captain Picard casually turned the ship over to him from time to time, as easily as he did to Riker.
And nobody protested!
In such an atmosphere of acceptance, Data made friends, real friends who shared their problems and their successes rather than simply using him for his physical strength or his rapid data access. Friends like Geordi LaForge, who would tell him jokes and encourage him to try any human activity that aroused his curiosity.
And friends like Tasha Yar.
When she had seduced him, so early in the voyage, he had been pleased that she had chosen him, even if it was while she was under the influence of the intoxicating virus. Her later denial, “It never happened,” had hurt and the incident had limited the progress of their friendship for a time, although it had not interfered with their working relationship. Recently, though, Data had come to recognize the emotion of embarrassment, and with that understanding and the passage of time they had grown closer once again.
Their last assignment together had been on Minos, the planet where the people had been destroyed by the weapons they built-where Tasha and Data had come as close as he cared to consider to dying together. That experience had crushed the final barriers.
Tasha was the last woman with whom Data had exercised his sexual function. Now he realized that he was comparing Nalavia to Tasha-and that was why he would prefer not to function with the President of Treva if he could avoid it. Tasha might have been under the influence of an intoxicant, but she had shared mutual pleasure. Nalavia’s primary motivation was clearly novelty. To her he was not a person but a toy, a bit of exotic spice for her jaded palate.
That was an intriguing thought: a year ago he would not have known that Nalavia was jaded, nor cared. And a year ago he would not have had the suspicion that she would treat an organic male exactly as she treated an android.
As Data approached his room, he noticed that there was no light under Tasha’s door. She would be asleep by this time. It was a pity that humans had to sleep in order to function properly; he would have liked to discuss his latest self-discovery with Tasha.
However, it was an ideal time to attempt to access Nalavia’s computer system; he had no responsibilities until the appointment with Nalavia in the morning, when she was to join her two guests on a tour of the capital city.
As Data approached, the guard posted near their rooms looked up groggily, frowned, and stretched, giving a grunt of surprise and then rubbing his right shoulder with his left hand. The man must have fallen asleep sitting up and gotten a cramp. If he fell asleep on duty once he would probably do so again, making it easy for Data to sneak out to locate a computer terminal. So as he went by, he said, “Good night,” and opened the door to his room.
The guard stared at him. “You sleep?” he asked.
“No,” Data replied with automatic honesty-and then “could have kicked himself,” as the