Survivors - Jean Lorrah [86]
“You read my concerns very well,” Data admitted.
“I have many years’ experience over you,” said Rikan. “I was surprised to find out how short a time you have been … alive?”
“Conscious,” Data supplied.
“Is not the organic part of your makeup alive?”
“In a sense; it does require nutrients, and replenishes itself. That part of me, however, existed in stasis for an unknown length of time before my consciousness was awakened.”
“Ah,” said Rikan, “how intriguing. Can you remember being brought to consciousness? Or are you like a person, who cannot remember the moment of birth?”
Birth. Tasha had called it that, “Then this very spot was your birthplace,” when she saw his home.
“It is the first event I can remember. My mind was not a tabula rasa; I was already programmed with language, a great deal of basic knowledge, and information gathered by four hundred colonists on my home planet.”
“I wonder,” Rikan mused, “whether that would be a greater or a lesser shock than birth. I suppose no one will ever know, as no one can experience both.”
“No, sir,” Data responded automatically-and then realized the implied question. “Not at current levels of technology. And if it should ever become possible to transfer human consciousness into an android body … I do not know if, having once been human, a person could adapt.”
Rikan studied him. “Do you feel less than human, Data?”
“I am … other than human. I am stronger and faster than any fully-organic humanoid. I have more information at my immediate disposal, and can manipulate it more efficiently. Still, I am capable of learning and growing-not merely increasing my information files.”
“Obviously,” Rikan told him with a smile. “I have never felt impelled to have a conversation like this one with the very clever computer system Adrian installed here. You are clearly a person, Data.”
“Yes. Still, I would be human if I could. I look at you, sir, for example, and while I know that with experience I am learning judgment, I wonder if it is possible for me to acquire wisdom.”
The smile broadened. “Ah, Data-do you not see that your question is its own answer?”
Data did not. “Sir?” he asked with a puzzled frown.
“Never mind,” said Rikan. “You will outgrow that quandary-and discover others. Do you age physically?”
“Apparently not, sir. However, I have existed for too short a time for conclusive estimates as to how long I may continue. As Tasha frequently reminds me, I am not indestructible, but unless I suffer irreparable damage, Starfleet scientists believe this body will last several centuries.”
“You may not suffer the physical indignities of age, but long life has other cruelties, far worse than loss of strength and keenness of the senses. Survivors are considered fortunate, Data-and the irony is that those who envy us our longevity either do not live long enough to know the cruel fate in store for us … or else they live to share it.”
“Sir?”
Rikan stared past Data, at nothing. “I had a wife once, and a beautiful daughter. I had good friends and colleagues, who shared the same experiences I did. They are all gone now-including many who were younger than I. My child, gone before me. My wife, following within the year. My friends, the companions of my young manhood-all are gone now.”
The warlord’s eyes refocused on Data. “Did your designers realize what they would subject you to, when they gave you both sapience and sentience, and then condemned you to outlive everyone you love?”
“I do not know whether I am capable of love, sir.”
“How can you not know, when I know upon one day’s acquaintance?”
“I cannot procreate,” Data explained. “There is no reason for me to be designed with the capacity for-“
Rikan laughed. “Ah, Data, how very young-and how very human-you are in that respect! To confuse the mating drive with the love born of fellowship is utterly typical of young people. No, no-I am speaking of love for one’s friends and colleagues, which you display in abundance.