The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [92]
“Certainly I meant it,” Selar said, kneeling before her and also sounding breathless. “We will go home together. Thala, if you would like it, I want to adopt you. I want you to be my daughter.”
The Andorian girl could only gape at her friend. Finally, dumbly, she nodded then managed to whisper, “That would be wonderful!”
“Good, that is settled,” the doctor said, and she got up. “Come, we must go back to the Enterprise. Everyone is worried about you.”
“They are?” Thala tried a halting step, and she winced as her wrenched ankle hurt her.
“What is it?” the Vulcan demanded, kneeling back down, her expert fingers probing gently at the child’s injury.
“I twisted my ankle,” Thala said, trying to rest her weight on it. The pain was ebbing gradually. “It’s all right.”
Strong hands clamped onto her sides, and she was picked up, clasped, as though she were a much younger child. “Put your arms around my neck,” Selar directed.
“I can walk,” Thala said, obeying nevertheless. It felt so good to be held—almost as good as it felt to know that she would now have a real home!
“I would prefer to carry you,” Selar said, striding forward. “Logically, it is the fastest, most efficient way to reach our destination.”
Thala gave a happy sigh. “I guess I’ll be doing everything very logically from now on.”
“That,” said Selar firmly, “constitutes a most logical deduction.”
“What shall I call you now?” the child asked timidly. “Will I really be your daughter?”
“You will,” Selar said. “And you may call me whatever you would find most comfortable.”
“I’ll think about it,” Thala promised.
Geordi La Forge was dreaming about the artifact, seeing in the eyes of his memory the beauty of its walls, when his intercom sounded, jerking him out of sleep. With a muttered imprecation, the chief engineer rolled out of bed and called aloud, “La Forge here.”
“Geordi,” said Data’s voice, “I would like you to assist me with a personal task. Can you come to my quarters?”
La Forge swallowed a yawn. “Sure, Data. I’ll be right there.”
Bracing himself, be reached over and picked up his VISOR, slid it into place, felt the familiar ache bite into his temples. He sighed. Dammit, I wish I didn’t have to put up with this pain …
The images in his dream flooded back to him then, and he smiled as he thought of the beauty of the artifact. Geordi ran a caressing finger along the edge of his VISOR. If it weren’t for this—and my ability to use it correctly—all of that beauty might have been lost forever, he thought. A slow, faint smile touched his mouth. “Guess it all kind of evens out, doesn’t it?” he muttered aloud. “Maybe that old Vulcan proverb about treasuring the differences as well as the similarities is right …”
He thought of Data, waiting for him, then began to hurry. Whistling cheerfully, he dressed, then made his way down to Data’s quarters. There he found the android arranging pages into two neat stacks. “Can you carry one of these, Geordi?” he asked.
“I could always get a floater from the loading dock,” La Forge said, eyeing the stack dubiously.
“No,” said Data firmly. “That will not be necessary.”
“Okay,” Geordi agreed, recognizing that this was not an issue open to discussion. He scooped up one of the stacks without further argument.
“Where’re we going?” he asked as they walked down the corridor, each juggling a massive pile of manuscript.
“You will see,” said Data enigmatically.
They wound up in the transporter room. Data waved O’Brien aside, then the android laid his stack on the transporter platform and motioned La Forge to do likewise. “But, Data, this is your book,” the chief engineer started to protest, but his friend determinedly shook his head.
“No, Geordi,” he said quietly. “This is something I must do.”
When the piles of manuscript were deposited on the platform, the android adjusted the controls to widebeam dispersal, then pressed the switch.
All the various incarnations of the android’s novel shimmered, then vanished.
La Forge scratched his head, baffled. “What the hell did you do that for, Data?