The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [3]
“He took her into his arms with a strength that made her breath rush from her lungs as her diaphragm was forcibly compressed.
” ‘I will come back,’ he promised. ‘Our journey may take years, but I swear that I will return to you. Will you wait, my darling?’
” ‘I have no choice,’ she said. ‘When I am with you I feel transformed. My legs grow weak, my blood rushes madly through my veins, my entire body tingles from your nearness. Why is it that only you can make me feel this way?’
” ‘Those reactions are not unique, Penelope. They are simply physiological indications of sexual arousal in the human female,’ Fritz murmured as he bent to possess—to plunder—her waiting lips with his own.
“She moaned as he—”
“Uh, Data,” Geordi broke in, waving a hand to gain his friend’s attention. “Hold on a second. I’m no writer, but something about Fritz’s speech to … uh, Penelope, did you say her name was? Well, a human male wouldn’t catalogue all those physical symptoms of … passion. Instead he’d just kiss her.”
“But she asked him a question,” Data pointed out. “When a question is posed, a reply is expected.”
“Well, that’s usually true, but in a case like this, old Fritz—or any man—wouldn’t take the time to make a speech correcting the lady. He’d kiss her and go on from there.”
Data regarded his critic with growing dismay. “He would? Are you certain?”
“Well, I don’t claim to be the universe’s greatest authority on lunar love scenes, but yeah, I’m sure.” La Forge grinned wryly. “If you want somebody who no doubt is an expert, you ought to ask Commander Riker.”
“I will correct that portion,” Data promised solemnly. “But otherwise, what did you think of it?”
Geordi hesitated. Frankly, he’d thought it was pretty terrible. But he couldn’t be truthful; he didn’t want to hurt Data’s feelings—assuming the android had feelings that could be injured. He certainly seemed to be almost humanly proud of his literary effort.
“Well …” he began, “I would definitely say it was … interesting. Definitely very interesting.”
“Can you be more specific regarding what you liked or disliked? What emotions did it arouse in you?”
The chief engineer groaned inwardly. “Well, I—”
La Forge was rescued by a beep from the intercom in Data’s cabin. “Lieutenant Commander Data?” the voice of bridge officer, Ensign Whitedeer, followed.
“Data here,” the android said.
“We are receiving a message from Starfleet Command, sir.”
“Where is the captain?”
“In his quarters, sir.”
“And Commander Riker?”
“On Holodeck Three, sir.”
The android stood, tugging his uniform into place, and quickly capped his pen. “I am on my way to the bridge now, Ensign.”
“Yes, sir.”
Geordi was already halfway to the door, profoundly grateful to be relieved of the role of literary critic. “I’ll go get into uniform and mosey on up to see what’s cooking.”
“Cooking?” Data echoed, then he nodded. “Ah, yes. You mean ‘what is cooking’ as in what is up, what is going down, what is shaking, what is the story, what is happening, man, what is—”
“You’ve got the idea, Data,” La Forge called back as the door to the android officer’s cabin slid open. “See you on the bridge.”
When La Forge, once more clad in his dark gold and black uniform, reached the bridge, he found Commander William Riker there ahead of him. If Data had summoned Riker, it meant that the message was more than a routine communication. Geordi went over to check the displays on the engineering station on the bridge, keeping one ear cocked for any hint of what was going on.
Moments later, Captain Jean-Luc Picard himself appeared, impeccably dressed and groomed as always, but Geordi had the impression that the Enterprise’s commander had been sound asleep. The engineer only hoped that this mysterious message would be worth the disruption in everyone’s duty schedule. Starfleet Command sometimes generated mountains from molehills.
Picard silently scanned the message, then straightened up. “Commander Riker, Mr. La Forge, Mr. Data please join me in the conference lounge