Chapter 1
It is 1300 hours, so I am on the Bridge. I always watch Captain Picard and the rest of the crew on the Bridge between 1300 hours and 1400 hours. I like the Bridge, because when I look up at the dome, I see many lights.
Captain Picard is talking, but I cannot see who he is speaking with. He may be talking to the computer. I do not know why he does that.
"Captain's Log, Stardate 57955.7," he says. "The Enterprise is en route to the Ligobis system where we will rendezvous with a vessel belonging to a reclusive group known as the Hespeth Consortium."
I listen to the Captain, but I am more interested in the viewscreen. I count the stars. It takes me a fraction of a second. There are 4,295 visible stars.
"The Hespeth wish to establish diplomatic relations with the Federation, so Starfleet has instructed us to welcome their delegation aboard the Enterprise to begin negotiations," the Captain continues.
I examine the curving blue lights along the floor, and then I turn toward the engineering station at the back of the Bridge. It displays a diagram of the Enterprise that is mostly black, yellow, and purple. Sometimes parts of the Enterprise are red, but none are red right now. Geordi told me that the diagram is called the Master Systems Display. Sometimes Geordi stands at the engineering station, but he is not here now. Instead, an officer I do not know is standing in front of the panel. Her hair is brown.
"I, for one, am eager to learn more about the Hespeth and their culture, and I hope our encounter will signal the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship," Picard says.
Picard has finished. He turns to me and smiles. His bald head looks very shiny on the Bridge because of the bright lights in the dome. "B-4," he says, "I would like you to join me and the senior staff tomorrow in Eleven Forward when we greet the Hespeth. It's not every day that we encounter a new species."
"Each day is made up of twenty-four hours," I reply, "I do not know what time to come."
"0900 hours. Will you come?"
I tilt my head to the left, considering. "Yes."
Picard is still smiling. "Have I ever told you how much you remind me of Data when you do that?"
Seventeen times, I think. I do not say it out loud, because I do not believe that Picard wants me to tell him. "I am not Data," I say instead.
The smile disappears from Picard's face. "Of course." He pauses. "I am sorry."
I do not know how to respond, because I do not understand why Picard apologized.
Chapter 2
1418 hours. On the way back to my quarters from the Bridge, I always visit the arboretum on Deck 10. I like the shapes and bright colors of the plants and flowers.
I walk on the stone paths. I see snapdragon, hydrangea, Antarian moon blossom, iris, antifern, prizewart, and Kaferian apples.
But that is Data talking. He knows the names of all of the plants; their taxonomy and anatomy; how much water each needs to survive-if it needs water at all; what happens to the gespar fruit during a sandstorm on Vulcan; how an earthquake with an epicenter three hundred kilometers from the Cardassian capital of Lakat rejuvenates the indigenous striated daylily flower.
I am not interested in any of this. Instead, I focus on the purples and reds of the flowers. One flower's leaves droop, and another's spread out like a fan. I run my fingers down a stem, and prick myself with a thorn. I am an android, so it does not hurt, and I do not bleed.
I keep walking. It is very quiet in the arboretum. Sometimes children play and laugh here, but not today. I hear only the clicking of the recirculating pump in the dark pond and the faint sucking sound of the climate control system.
I stop walking. I only know about the pump and climate control system because Data's knowledge and memory engrams are embedded in my positronic network. I did not know my younger brother Data very well, or for very long. He and Picard found me, in pieces and buried in the dust on Kolarus III. Data wanted me to be more like him, so he gave me all his memories. I think he wanted me to change. But then he turned me off, because he believed I was dangerous. By the time Picard and the others turned me on again, Data was gone. I think they reactivated me because I reminded them of Data. But even though Data's knowledge runs through my neural pathways and subroutines, I am still just B-4.
1429 hours. It is time for me to return to my quarters. Tomorrow I will meet the Hespeth. I wonder what they will be like.
Chapter 3
At 0900 hours, I enter the room that is called Eleven Forward because it is at the front of Deck 11. The crew come here to eat, drink, and look at the stars. I do not eat or drink, but I often come here to look at the stars.
There are eleven people in Eleven Forward including myself, and I find the parallel interesting. Captain Picard is here with Commander Worf, the First Officer, as well as five other Enterprise crewmembers. All of them are wearing white jackets. I do not have one. I am wearing my brown jumpsuit, as I always do.
There are also three Hespeth here. They look as different from one another as Picard is different from Worf. One is very tall, with a face whiter than mine and orange eyes. Another has long, curving horns on its head. The third smells like it is rotting. It is wearing a black mask, so I cannot see its face.
"Once again, welcome to the Enterprise," says Picard. "We hope you find your accommodations satisfactory."
Picard does not say anything about the smell. Perhaps he does not notice, or perhaps it is not appropriate to mention it.
"Everything is adequate," says the tall one. The voice is unusual. It is very loud, but sounds like it comes from somewhere else, far away.
"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard," says the Captain, "and this is Commander Worf." Picard then introduces the other Enterprise officers. He does not introduce me.
"This body is named Tinat," says the tall one, who appears to be female. She gestures toward the horned one. "That body-she is called Ress."
"And your other companion?" asks Worf.
"I do not know his body's name," says Tinat.
The smelly one looks up. "I have been called Septil."
"So now you know our names," says Tinat.
"We are very pleased to meet you," says Picard. "I hope we can find much common ground between our peoples."
"That, I doubt," says Tinat.
I listen while they talk, but I am more interested in how things look than in the sound of words. I notice that Picard and Worf hold green drinks in cups that look like lightbulbs I once saw in a Holodeck simulation of Earth. The Hespeth hold drinks in tall, thin cups that look like Dr. Crusher's test tubes. I look around and compare the number of round and square tables in Eleven Forward. Then I count the stars in all the windows.
I focus on the conversation again when the tall one says, "Our Consortium has access to many different species. That is why each of us looks different."
"The Federation also has many diverse member worlds," says Picard, spreading his arms.
"It is not the same at all," says Ress, the horned one. Her voice is also very loud yet very far away. "We may look different, but right now we are all the same. Your Federation speaks with too many voices."
"There is a Vulcan proverb," Picard says slowly, "'Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.' We value such diversity."
"We do not care about diversity," says Ress. "We have only one mission."
"What is your mission?" asks Worf.
Ress opens her hands. "We are searching for our brothers and sisters, who we lost long ago. They call themselves the Paxans."
"I'm afraid the Federation has not encountered them," says Picard.
"They are very good at hiding," says Tinat.
I stop counting the stitches on the furniture. Data has heard of the Paxans. Why does Data know, when Picard does not?
I open and close my mouth three times. Perhaps I should say something.
I locate Data's memory of the Paxans. Strange. It is marked secret, and it is encoded in a subroutine that I have never accessed before. I probe deeper. Picard is not supposed to know about the Paxans, because Data was not allowed to tell him. I do not understand.
I blink my eyes four times. I open and close my mouth again, but I cannot say anything. It is a secret. Picard must not know.
The smelly one, Septil, has noticed me. He is looking at me now, but because of the mask, I cannot see his face.
"What is this one?" asks the smelly one, in a faraway voice. He has not spoken much yet. He points to me with a gloved finger. "He was not introduced."
"That is B-4," says Picard. "He is an android, a highly advanced artificial construct."
I look at the Hespeth and tilt my head to one side. Then I open my mouth to speak. But Worf looks at me sternly. I do not think he wants me to say anything. He is right. I do not know the right words to say.
"Does it talk?" asks the tall one.
Picard and Worf look at each other.
I open my mouth again. "I am B-4. I am pleased to meet you." That cannot be a bad thing to say. Everyone says it.
The smelly one nods.
"We must continue our search for the Paxans," Tinat says. The Hespeth do not appear to be interested in speaking with me anymore.
"I hope you will remain on the Enterprise for a few days," says Picard. "We would like to speak again later."
Ress nods. "That would be acceptable."
"But now, we will return to our rooms," says Tinat.
When the Hespeth are gone, Picard takes me aside. "What did you think, B-4?"
"The one wearing the mask smelled funny."
Picard frowns. "We meet many different species in our travels through space. Not all of them share the same standards of hygiene."
"Ah," I say. "So the Hespeth do not wash?"
The Captain smiles. "I don't know. But there is no doubt that they are different from us in many ways. I hope we can learn more about the Hespeth over the next few days."
"Ah," I say again. I think Captain Picard might be wise.
"I will see you later, on the Bridge," says the Captain, and then he leaves.
I think about the Paxans again. It is not strange that Data knew about the Paxans; Data knew so many things. Yet it is unusual that Data was not allowed to tell Picard.
I will return to my quarters now. When the time is 1300 hours, I will go to the Bridge.
Chapter 4
1100 hours. I am at the easel in my quarters, painting. Data liked to paint too. I have his paintings here.
I dip my paintbrush in black paint. I make a circle on the canvas.
Spot meows, and I scratch behind his ears with my free hand. Spot used to be Data's cat.
I look around the room. I have all of Data's things, even his cat.
I dip my brush in red paint and cross out the circle with an X. I make four more X's on the canvas. I may have Data's things, but I am not the same as Data. I do not paint like he did. Data's shapes and patterns were precise; his use of color was exact. He saw lines in his mind and never drew outside them.
Now I mix the blue with the brown, and the yellow with the black. I mix all the colors together. I wave my paintbrush in the air, and flecks of paint fly across the room. Spot runs to the corner. He does not want to get paint on his fur. I make a spiral on the canvas, moving my arm in a wide circle. I am different than Data in other ways too. He always wanted to be human. I only want to be B-4.
The spiral is too big for the canvas, but I continue drawing it anyway. My spiral catches the edge of the easel. Soon, I am painting the air.
I like painting.
The door chimes. "Come," I say, because that is what Picard and Geordi say when someone is at the door.
The door opens. Two Hespeth enter; the smelly one, Septil, and the tall one, Tinat. The smelly one is holding a phaser. The tall one is holding a pointy metal object. They are not supposed to be here.
I point my paintbrush at them. "Why are you here?" I ask.
The Hespeth do not answer. The smelly one points the phaser at me. "Do not move, android," he says.
Perhaps I am faster than the smelly one. Maybe I could run and grab the phaser. But what if I am not faster? I do not want to get shot. So I do not move.
The tall one, Tinat, comes closer. I stare into her unblinking orange eyes. Then she sticks the metal object in my ear.
It is a neural probe, I realize, as its trace travels across my neural network. The Hespeth are searching for something. I try to resist, but I find that I cannot move. The probe extracts a copy of Data's memory about the Paxans. It feels like they have taken a part of me, even though it was Data's.
Tinat removes the probe from my ear. My arms and legs are stiff. I try to walk, but I fall to the floor. I try to open my mouth and speak, but I cannot.
Then the smelly one turns the phaser on himself, and shoots. He falls to the floor, but does not cry out.
Tinat does not seem surprised. She puts the neural probe into the rim of her boot, and leaves my quarters, ignoring Septil. Spot meows softly from the corner of the room. There is paint on the floor.
After eleven minutes and thirty-three seconds pass, I can move again. I run a self-diagnostic, and I am undamaged. Then I go to the corner and comfort Spot. After that I go to the smelly one, who is even smellier when I get closer. I place my hand over his mouth. He is not breathing. I press on his chest, and feel no heartbeat. I think the smelly one might be dead. I do not remove his mask.
I do not understand why the smelly one shot himself. I must tell the Enterprise crew what happened. I do not have a communicator badge, because I am not one of the crew, but I can access the intercom from my computer terminal. I press the screen.
"Security alert," I say.
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