Unification - Jeri Taylor [58]
He was astonished at the small, spare quarters. He had crossed the Neutral Zone in a Barolian freighter, and his accommodations were better than this. He cast a surprised glance at Picard, but the captain had clearly gotten beyond his environment sometime ago and now took it for granted.
“Have you had any success, Mr. Data?” Pieard queried.
“Negative, Captain. The Romulan information net employs a progressive encryption lock. I have been unable to penetrate their security measures.”
“May I assist you, Commander?” asked Spock. “I’ve had some experience in these matters.” Spock realized that he was looking forward to this technolog-ical challenge.
“By all means, Ambassador,” replied Data, and Spock moved to sit next to him. He was instantly absorbed in the problem.
“The Romulans have incorporated a forty-three- part cipher key into their entry sequence,” said Spock, knowing that Data had covered this material.
“Yes, sir. The twenty-ninth is the only one I cannot bypass,” Data responded.
Spock was vaguely aware that Picard was still in the room, and apparently feeling superfluous. “I think I’ll take this opportunity to remove my ears,” the Captain said, and exited.
Spock was glad he was gone. He remembered distantly that one frequently accomplished more when one’s captain was out of the picture. And he had been looking forward to the opportunity to discuss Pieard with his second. “He intrigues me, this Picard,” he said.
Data was instantly curious. “In what manner?” he asked.
“He is remarkably analytical and dispassionate for a human. I understand why my father would choose to mind meld with him. There’s almost a Vulcan quality to the man.”
“Interesting,” responded Data. “I have never considered that. And Captain Picard has been a role model in my quest to be more human.” This took Spock aback. “To be more human?” “Yes, Ambassador.”
Spock raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “You have an effqcient intellect, superior physical skills, and no emotional impediments. There are Vulcans who aspire all their lives to achieve what you were given by design.”
Spock could see tb.e android processing this statement. He was silent for a moment, and then turned back to Spock. “You are half human.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you have chosen a Vulcan way of life.”
“I have.”
“In effect, you have abandoned what I have sought all my life.”
This innocent remark struck a surprisingly strong chord in Spock. His choice, as a child, to follow the Vulcan ways and eschew emotions had not been lightly made. It had required a lifetime of discipline and meditation in order to repress the human side of him. He was not sure he wanted to consider an inquiry into what he might have lost by the process.
He took refuge in the monitor before him. “I believe I have isolated the twenty-ninth cipher access code. I’ll attempt to access the proconsul’s files.” He skillfully worked the controls of the computer, looking for paths into the files.
“Ambassador, may I ask a personal question?” Data’s voice was infinitely polite. “Please.”
“As you examine your life, do you find you have missed your humanity?”
The computer made a series of beeps and Spock took advantage of this activity to organize his thoughts. That the android had seemingly tapped into his thoughts was uncanny. He considered his answer carefully. Finally, casually, he said, “l have no regrets,” and continued to work on accessing the files.
“‘No regrets.’ That is a human expression,” observed Data.
Spock was silent for a time. Then he said, “Fascinating.”
Chapter Sixteen
AMARIE PICKED AT a rough spot in her fingernail until it became a gouge. Then she picked at it with another hand. She was trying not to hear what Shem was saying to her.
They were sitting in Shern’s tiny little cubicle of an office at the rear of the hideaway, where he had summoned her for this impromptu “conference.” Amarie hated his office. It was decorated with Shern’s usual tacky taste: lots of red, chains piled on the floor, nets