LISTENING IN

Author's notes: This story is for Jill, who complained about the lack of Geordi fics. It's style is more Perelandra than Star Trek, mainly because I am. If anyone has any suggestions for improvement, I'll be happy to hear them.

Data and Captain Picard were already deeply into discussion when Geordi entered the room.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"Ah yes," Picard said, as if he had completely forgotten. Too wrapped up in his thoughts, probably. Geordi found himself smiling in anticipation. They had started investigating a new planet a few hours earlier, and from what he had heard about it, it sounded very interesting.

"So, what have you found?"

"It's not so much what we have found as what we haven't found. This magnetism that the computer stated was..."

"All over the place?" Geordi suggested.

"Quite. The away team has researched it, and they have absolutely no idea what triggers it."

Geordi's smile widened to a grin. Christmas was coming early. "And I get to check it out?"

"We both do," Data commented. "I take it from your facial expression that you like me find this highly interesting."

"Interesting doesn't even come close. Can we leave right away?"

"Yes, you're dismissed," Picard said with amused patience. As the other two moved to leave, he added, " It is an away mission you know, not a day off."

"I'll be having fun, so what's the difference?"

"That is actually a very interesting question," Data commented. "I would say the most noticeable difference is the lack of payment on a day off. Then again..."

Geordi put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go down and play.

**********

"Do you indeed consider this recreational activity?" Data asked Geordi down on the planet. "Because although I can understand that point of view, I hardly think it's a common one."

"I'm geeky that way," Geordi said absentmindedly, staring at the small pebbles of mineral attracting and repelling each other in an intricate pattern not unlike a domino game. If you could imagine a domino game with strings of magnetism shooting out between the bricks. Fascinated, he reached out with a finger to see what would happen. The pebbles moved aside, circling his finger to get back in touch with each other, and there were moments of pressure when they tried to go *through* his finger as the shortest possible route.

/Who are you?/

Geordi retreated quickly, standing up straight and looking around. There was nobody there, except Data who looked very puzzled.

"What's the matter?"

"Did you say something?" Geordi asked, knowing fully well the answer. That voice hadn't sounded anything like Data's. In fact, he wasn't sure it had only been one voice.

"Nothing you haven't already replied to."

"I could have sworn I heard something." He listened more carefully, and as a whisper so low it was impossible to tell where it came from, he could still hear the voices. There were more of them than he could count, and they kept repeating the same few sentences in chorus.

/I like you. Do you like me? I don't like *you*. I like you. Do you like me? I don't like *you*./

"Someone's talking," he said, knowing he made an idiot of himself. This was a planet without any higher life forms, least of all any that could communicate with him in a language he knew.

"There's nobody here."

"I know. But they're talking to me."

"That's an impossibility."

"Thank you, I know."

/He can hear us!/ the voices marvelled, and then there was another voice, not part of the chorus, that said,

/He could never hear me./

The voice was much deeper than the other ones, and also clearer, as if it was closer to him. He almost jumped out of his skin.

"This is getting creepy!" he complained, and Data looked at him with something that in an emotional person would qualify as concern.

"Maybe the magnetism is affecting your system. Let me check you out."

Data took up the tricorder, and Geordi pushed it aside. "Don't you think I'd see if there was something wrong with me?"

"Well, you're hearing voices, so I'm not sure you would." After scanning his friend with the tricorder, Data examined the results for a moment. Finally, he looked up. "There's nothing wrong with you."

Geordi wasn't so sure. A third voice had joined the others, and the original chorus seemed very curious of it.

/I belong to the machine,/ the new voice explained. /It doesn't have one of its Own, and so they gave me to it./

/How very droll!/ part of the chorus giggled, while the rest continued with the old chanting. /We belong to no one. We only stay with the ones we like. We like you. Do you like us?/

/I do, but the machine doesn't./

/And what of you?/ the chorus questioned. /Do you belong to the one who hears us?/

There was a short pause, then the voice that had complained about Geordi never hearing it said, /In a way. But I'm not his Own./

/Nothing here seems to have one of its Own,/ the third voice commented. /Everyone here belongs to everything and nothing. Where we come from, almost everyone is either someone's Own or tamed, like us./

"They're not from this planet," Geordi breathed, trying to make sense of the peculiar discussion. "They came with us."

"That's it, I'm contacting the ship," Data decided, turning on his transmitter. "Data to Enterprise..." He frowned, repeating the motion several times. "It doesn't appear to be working."

Geordi tried his own, glad to get something besides the voices to think about. His transmitter was dead too. Maybe the magnetism interfered with it, or those swirling energies that this planet was so full of. In any case it seemed that they were stuck until the crew thought it fit to beam them up again. He didn't mind.

"I don't want to leave anyway. Not until I know what these voices are."

"They're figments of your imagination, Geordi," Data explained. "Audial hallucinations, probably brought on by the high frequency of diverse forms of energy activity on this planet."

So he had noticed it as well. Of course he had. Data was a perceptive creature, and the energies was hard to miss, practically swirling all over the place.

/What did that mean?/

/The machine doesn't think we're real./

/Now, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black./

Geordi had to giggle. Of course, the voices knowing Earthly proverbs only supported Data's theory that they were all in his head and not some invisible alien life form. Well, for hallucinations, they certainly had a sense of humour.

"Geordi? What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing."

"Those voices again? You have to ignore them. It's particularly vital now that we can't get in touch with the Enterprise. If you can't remain objective and perform this mission without interruption, we could very well be in severe danger. But I don't have to tell you that, do I?"

"No. Of course not."

The voices didn't stop talking, giggling and whispering, but Geordi was firmly set on ignoring them. Data was right, they needed to remain sane, and this most definitely wasn't. So no matter how entertaining they were, he didn't listen, only researched the magnetism as he had been sent to do. Sooner or later someone on the Enterprise would notice the transmission problem and most likely beam them up.

/He doesn't say anything./

/Blast. We've lost him./

"The interesting thing about the magnetism," Geordi said, focusing on the pebbles, "is that it isn't constant. One pebble attracts another, remains there for a short period of time, and then they repel each other. Which creates the pattern."

"It's rather unusual for attraction to fade so quickly."

"You've obviously never been dating."

/I don't think we have,/ the deep voice commented. /His Own says he can still hear us. He's just ignoring us./

/How rude!/

/It's the machine's fault. I think you will have to leave him./

There was a deep sigh, and then the last of the voices admitted, /All right. But I don't like it./

Data had been about to say something, but stopped short in the middle of a sentence, and to Geordi's horror he fell to the ground, while his aura remained standing. For a moment it kept its human form, then it began to dissolve...

"Wait."

It stopped, hanging in the air in something that could only be described as expectation.

"You're one of the voices. You're his aura!"

/What a pretty name. What does it mean?/

"You're the part of him that..." Geordi made a vague gesture in the air, unable to explain what was going on. "Never mind. That's what you all are, isn't it? Energy? You're a *life form* and we never even knew, put you in slavery..."

/What's slavery?/ a voice from the chorus asked, and the deep voice laughed.

/We're here to give life. If it is to machines, so be it. I gave life to your eyes, why should I be ashamed of that?/

"My..." Geordi's hand flew up to his face. "You're the visor. No. You're *inside* the visor."

/I am./

"And you.." he said to the chorus, trying to find out what they were. "The magnetism. The only thing that belongs on this planet."

/We all belong on this planet,/ Visor said. /If we belong anywhere at all./

/I like you,/ parts of the choir moaned in tragic voices. /Don't you like me?/

/I do. Do you mind?/

"What? Oh, not at all." Geordi was much too fascinated with this turn of events to be bothered by minor inconveniences, and so he took off his visor and reached out with it, feeling it snatched from his fingers by the magnetism. The chorus was completely thrilled when it continued:

/I like you! No *I* like you! Come to *me*/

The clattering of noises became louder, and Geordi was mildly worried that they might harm the visor - the physical visor, not the being that apparently lived in it - but eventually the clatter silenced a bit, and among the "like you"s there were several voices that claimed not to like poor Visor. Geordi laughed.

"Sounds like you're getting dumped, pal."

/They are very fickle,/ said Visor, clearly amused. /They are only interested in what is new to them. But once they have rejected me, their interest builds up again./

"The grass is always greener on the other side. Huh. I doubt the Captain will accept that as an explanation."

/Do you accept it?/

"Strangely enough I do." He touched the pebbles, and although he couldn't feel the energies surrounding them, he knew that it was there, making the pebbles move, so that they nearly seemed alive.

"Aura? Are you still there?"

/I am./

"You live in Data, but you said you weren't 'his Own'."

/I'm not. He's a machine./

"Yes. But living things - they have something that is their Own?"

/Someone. Yes./

"A soul, then?" He had always wanted to know if Data had a soul, if it was possible to have a soul when you didn't really have any emotions. The way these beings said "machine", he felt they reduced Data from the good friend he actually was to something no more personal than a replicator.

/I don't understand./

"A soul, a... the part of a person that makes him who he his. The part with free will, that cares and loves, and... I don't know, is higher somehow."

/But that is you,/ Aura said, confused. /It is something you are./

"Yes?"

/Your Own isn't you. It only belongs to you./

/He can't hear you, love,/ Visor suddenly said while Geordi was still contemplating this. /I don't know why. Maybe he still hasn't properly learned how to listen. He never heard us before, either./

"Wait a minute," Geordi says. "My Own is talking *right now* and I can't hear it?"

/Seems like it./

He didn't like that. If there was some being connected to him, he wanted to hear what it had so say, rather than listen to some random beings that just happened to be there at the same time.

/Do you want me to tell you what it says?/ Aura asked kindly.

Geordi shook his head. Having something that private translated to you felt wrong. "I want to *hear* what it says."

There was a long silence, and then Visor said, with somewhat hesitation, /It suggests... I don't know what it suggests. It says people have been known to talk to their Own before, and somehow it often involves going out in the wilderness naked./

"Sounds interesting," Geordi said with wry humour. Well, he was already in the wilderness, and couldn't contact his ship, so what did he have to lose? He began to strip out of his uniform, hoping these beings didn't have any opinions on what a male anatomy should look like. Of course, they might very well find anatomy pointless under any circumstances.

"Can I have my visor back?" he asked, and there was a long thoughtful pause when the only voices was the mindless babble of the magnetic beings liking and not liking each other.

/I don't think I should follow you,/ Visor finally said. /We won't leave you entirely alone, of course, but your Own shouldn't have to worry about distraction. Just the two of you./

"You want to send me out *blind*?"

/We want you to go as you are./

"Why, thank you," he muttered, but he didn't argue. They were only doing this as a favour to him. He was the one who had asked to get to hear his Own, whatever that was, and all they did was try to help him in what they considered the best way possible.

For a moment he contemplated asking them to keep check on his things, but he managed to stop himself from actually uttering that bizarre wish. This was a deserted planet, there was no one to take his things even if they had been of value to anyone. It felt strange leaving Data lying, but when Aura was still around, even though she was an being in her own right and he for some reason kept thinking of her as female, he felt like a part of Data was still with him. Something the android would without a doubt have found ludicrous if he had been awake. Then again, there was nothing about this that Data *wouldn't* find ludicrous. Going out in the wilderness of a foreign planet, stark naked and without the aid of your prosthetic? *Really*, what are you *thinking*? And the truth, of course, was that he wasn't thinking at all, because he wasn't amputated at the neck, and if there was something that could tell him a little bit more about this peculiar and fascinating place called the world, he wanted to know about it.

Very slowly, he made his way up from the valley he'd been standing in. He remembered some of his environments from the way down; the palm tree-like bushes on his left and the sandy slope further right, easy to slip in. Once on horizontal ground again, he moved with extra caution, because he remembered that there were clefts along, but not exactly where.

There was the tiniest nudge on his shoulder, like an electric shock, and he steered away from it. Pretty soon he recognised the path under his feet. One of the beings had made sure he stayed away from dangerous places. That gave him greater security, while he also noted that the longer he went on, the more instinct took over. Soon he was walking with firm strides, enjoying his environment as he went along. A strong scent of flowers made him stop for a while to examine the small palm trees they grew on, but he kept going, waiting for the voices to tell him when to stop. They never did. Finally he stopped by his own accord, saying to everyone and no one,

"How long am I supposed to go on?"

At first there was no answer, as if each one of them wanted someone else to go first. Then Aura replied with something that resembled amusement, /You can stop whenever you want. Walking isn't important./

"Oh. Well thank you so much for informing me."

He searched for a while before he found a comfortable spot to sit down and wait. It was a great test for his patience, he had to give them that. For the first couple of hours he went through his experiences since he had been beamed down, trying to understand these creatures better, determine what they were, exactly. Did all forms of power consist of sentient little beings? Was there a creature in the replicator helping it fulfil people's wishes? If there was, he certainly didn't know how to the the crew about it. They would think he had completely lost his marbles. And maybe he had, but in that case he never wanted them back again. He had spent most of his grown-up life working with circuits and energies, and now he got to talk to them. He would have to ask a lot of creatures a lot of questions when he came back to the ship. Even a long, nice chat with Visor would be highly interesting.

But right now he was supposed to find out what being lived by his own mind, belonging to him but not part of him. It wasn't in his job description, but that didn't make it any less something he wanted to know.

The coming hours he spent going through mathematical formulas in his head, backwards and forwards, to stop himself from crying out from boredom. He didn't know when he fell asleep, but he woke up cold and uncomfortable, with tingling legs and aching shoulders. The sun had stopped warming his skin, and he found himself angry with the beings for luring him into this.

"I'm thirsty," he said, "and I'm cold and tired, and you'd better show me some point about all this."

Nobody replied. Of course not. They weren't talking to him anymore, they were pointedly ignoring him, punishing him for not hearing his Own. He was deadly tired of all this, and he wanted to go home. Except that even if he found his way back to the valley, there was no guarantee he could get back in touch with the ship. And his leg still hadn't woken up properly. Blast it all.

A low rumble above startled him, and he wondered if it was a thunderstorm coming up. If it was, he should probably try to find a cave or something, except he was miles away from the rocky parts and even there he hadn't seen any caves.

/Collect firewood,/ roared the storm.

"What?"

/Firewood./

"But I don't have..." He silenced. There was no point in reminding the storm that he had nothing to make fire with, having left all his possessions by his clothes. If it was anything like the other voices, it wouldn't care. He had stated his problem, it had offered a solution. There were bushes and small palm trees around him, and he broke off dry twigs, wishing for something sharp to get the larger branches with. He was quite aware that the final result was nothing like the neat pyramid recommended by wildlife specialists, but it was the best he could do without tools.
"All right," he said, taking a step back and speaking to the storm. "I'm done."

/Do you call that firewood?/

He would have glared, but he lacked the capacity and the storm the physical form, so he just sighed. "Yes. I do."

/Stand back then, being of matter./

It was funny, really. The magnetism beings had been ditzy, but he quite liked them, and he thought of Aura and Visor almost as friends. But he was positive he didn't like Storm one bit. Of all arrogant, obnoxious higher beings... But he took a few steps back and heard the crack of lightning hit the pile.

/I am truly fabulous!/ Storm roared in delight. /I am the amazing rainmaker!/

The rain started falling seconds later, and Geordi was even more grateful about that than he was about the fact that Storm was moving on, cracking bolts of lightning and presumably bragging about himself miles away. He tilted his face upwards and let the glorious drops fall on his skin and into his mouth. They were surprisingly sweet. Not just sweet water as opposed to salt water, but with a soft aftertaste that resembled milk. It was glorious, and he immediately forgave Storm all personality problems.

The rain took away the thirst, and with the fire nearby he dried up soon enough, but that only made him find that he was very hungry. He might as well give it all up now, if he couldn't even go a few hours without turning his mind from inner quests to food. But to look on it from the bright side; if he went back to the valley and got his things back, he'd *still* be hungry.

Wait a minute, that was the bright side?

"Okay, food?" he asked, and was surprised to hear Visor's voice,

/Eat the palm trees./

"You're still here?"

But he got no answer. Of course not. They would make sure he didn't starve to death, but they wouldn't participate in actual conversation.

The palm leaves tasted of copper and were about as chewable, but they eased the hunger and made him able to think of other things. Like why he hadn't been beamed up yet. Not that he particularly *wanted* to be beamed up; he was bored, but since he'd waited this long he wanted to be rewarded for it. But the crew had no way of knowing that, and he couldn't help thinking they were being a bit callous. Of course, maybe there was some reason they couldn't do it, whatever reason that could be.

Fretting took another hour. Then what? Calculating pi, drumming his fingers against his legs, playing through memories in his head. He recalled old girlfriends, which made a rather short and awkward list. The latest fling had ended almost as soon as it had started, because he didn't like the way her kisses tasted. He'd been smart enough not to say that, at least. That was certainly something he'd learned from mistakes.

The first love of his life had been very angry at him when he shyly told her that he loved her smell. Women weren't supposed to smell, but he had been seven years old and not quite aware of that. She was eighteen and his babysitter, and he adored her enough to be certain he'd marry her when he grew up, if she'd only wait for him.

He still remembered that smell, after all these years, even though he had forgotten so many other things about her. Her name for example, it had started with an L, but nothing simple like Laura or Lucy... Lydda. That was it, Lydda. And she used to sing him a lullaby...

"A la nanita nana," he hummed to himself, "nanita ea, nanita ea."

Something brushed the back of his mind, barely even a whisper, and he silenced, trying to listen to it.

It wasn't there anymore.

"Mi Jesus tiene sueño, bendito sea, bendito sea."

It was definitely there now, but only as long as he kept singing. When he ran out of words, he hummed along, and it became stronger. So strong, in fact, that he finally heard it clearly.

"Oh," he said. "It's you."

/Who had you expected?/ his Own asked from the resonance of the song.

"A stranger." But he didn't say that one out loud, he thought it in the song like he had all those years ago. When had he stopped humming? Probably at the same time as he stopped smelling young women. He'd been so desperate to do what was expected of him, he had given up all those things that really mattered. Why, I'm just a regular boy, nothing to see here, move on, folks.

Girls had told him, "It's like I don't know you at all, Geordi!" "You never let anyone *in." "Loving you is like stepping into a small niche, half of me is left outside. And you know, it's *cold* outside."

It was pretty cold on the inside too, since there wasn't much to it. Energy was what happened when particles moved. It wasn't whispering voices, nor was it swirling colours. Guarding angels are creatures with halo and wings in children's books, and nobody believes in them anymore. They're not actual people, they can't talk to you or touch your skin, barely tangible and yet there. If that's what you think, you're just being strange.

He had forgotten all about them. All he had kept was his fascination of circuits and machinery, knowing that there was more to them than people understood. He'd stopped himself from believing that sentient beings lived inside them. Now he was slowly going back to where he had once been, the grown man trying to grasp the mindset of a small child, get past scientific prejudice and childish misconceptions to see the truth.

He kept singing with Angel for the remainder of the new day.

**********

"Geordi?"

"Huuuh..." Geordi rolled over on his side and blinked a couple of times. The world settled into it's usual shapes. Someone had returned his visor. Then he noticed where he was lying. Correction, someone had returned *him*. Rolling back again, he looked up into Beverly Crusher's face. "You beamed me up."

"We would have done it a lot earlier if we had the chance," she replied with a tinge of regret. "There was static all around the planet, it interfered with the technology. As I suppose you noticed when Data and your visor stopped functioning."

"It didn't stop functioning... I took it off," he mumbled. It felt so peculiar to be back and treated as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't been forced to reevaluate his entire life.

"Ah. Well, I suppose I should have expected that. After all, you took your clothes off.

"Uh, about that..." He glanced down in panic and was relieved to see fabric. Of course, she might have been the one to dress him to begin with, in which case he could just die from humiliation right then and there.

"You were delirious," she hurried to reassure him. "The static had affected your body chemistry as well. It took me hours to set it right."

"Set it *right*!?" He desperately searched the corners of his mind for Angel's voice, without finding it.

"Yes." Beverly tilted her head in deep thought. "You were practically delirious."

He should have known. After all, she was only doing her job, which was getting him back to normal. Whether or not that was what he wanted.

Geordi?" She grabbed his wrist, holding it between her fingertips. "Your pulse is racing. Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing. Um... am I okay otherwise? Can I leave?"

Sure," she said after a moment's pause. "Just take the day off, you're going to need the time to get back into equilibrium."

"Yeah. Okay." He slid off the bench, and the relief of getting out of sickbay made his thoughts change track for a moment. "How's Data, by the way?"

"Fine. He had already recharged when we found you."

"Good."

"I think he'll want to see you."

"Yeah." But Geordi didn't go to find Data; he went back to his own quarters and started humming the first tune that entered his mind. It happened to be Flow Gently Sweet afton. When he got to "disturb not her dream" he suddenly stopped, and a smile spread over his face.

"There you are," he said softly.

**********

"Captain?"

Data hurried his steps to catch up with Captain Picard, who stopped for a second. The android's face surprisingly held a frown.

"I'm a bit concerned about Geordi, sir."

Picard raised his eyebrows. "You too? I suppose it's only to be expected."

"Sir? I'm not sure I understand."

"Oh, nothing." Picard gestured for Data to follow him down the hall. "It struck me that most people who have an actual ability to be concerned have already mentioned this. A less than appropriate attempt at humour from my side, I'm afraid."

"Then you are aware of his erratic behaviour lately?"

"I hardly call a bit of singing erratic, Data."

"He also speaks to the circuits, sir."

The captain gave an exasperated sigh and spread his arms. "And why not? People speak to plants, after all."

"They do?" Data asked, momentarily sidetracked.

"Yes. It's supposed to make them grow better, primarily because of the oxygen."

"Fascinating. But sir, oxygen is of no importance to the circuits."

"I'm well aware of that."

"And he keeps speaking of some obscure mystical creatures..."

"Angels."

"Yes." Data's frown deepened. "Don't you agree that this is erratic behaviour?"

"I do. But have you taken the time to review his work lately?"

"No, sir," Data said, clearly bewildered.

"It has improved. Quite a bit, actually. They say the line between brilliance and madness is very thin. I don't know which side Mr. LaForge is on, but I do know that as long as his work stays at this standard I'm willing to give him the benefit of a doubt."

"But, sir..."

"I'm not saying I believe in angels, mind you. But their existence has yet to be disproven."

Data opened his mouth to argue, but the Captain waved him away. There would be plenty of time for discussion later, presumably when Data had been reading up on his mythology. Right now, they both had work to do.

**********

THE END

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