Chapter 7 –Through a Mirror Darkly
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Rontaerius Amon took a deep breath, steadying his shaking hands. Several neural activity monitors hummed at the edges of the darkened lab, mingling with the buzz of the bright surgical lamp poised over the pale android's body. He had worked diligently over the course of the past few weeks repairing the android's critical systems first and then working to back to subsystems. The body responded to light and other stimuli but his higher functions were still inactive. Only recently had he begun repairing the cranial cavity. Before Rontaerius had even begun to work with the systems, he had studied the organic/inorganic interface B-4 had presented to him. He feared that the damaged interface could permanently disrupt the android's systems and had fabricated a new one. Fortunately, the neural net was still laid in and undamaged, but the when he tried to bring the matrix online, fluxuation in the flow of positrons forced him to deactivate the procedure.
Once again, he found himself brooding over failure, washing his hands in warm water, lights dimmed in the lab. He only vaguely remembered the android… Lore was his name. The damage to Lore's systems was extensive. Rontaerius marveled at how any family could have been so brutal in this kind of destruction. He had only known Lore for a short period of time but had never realized that his relationship with his family was so devastating. When Jamaal had proposed this assigned to him, she said to him, "Lore is sentient organism… he is not simply a machine. I want you to treat this less as though you were repairing a malfunctioning piece of technology and focus more on the fact that you are operating on a living being." The speech had been so motivating at the time... But now, after multiple failed attempts, he found his hope in the situation dissipating.
Rontaerius sat down in his chair, running his hands over the soft skin on his scalp. His dark eyes scanned his office, falling once again upon the interface. He picked it up running his fingers over the elegant device. He knew the issue was with the interface… the one he designed could not conform to the specified range of positron flow. They were incompatible but he was terrified of the results which might occur if the original were restored.
He rubbed his eyes and shook his head.
For a moment he considered his options. Unconsciously, he drummed his fingers on the cool desk. To restore the original interface could have serious physiological ramifications… but if it were not restored Lore's chances of ever being reactived were slim to none. His resolve building, he picked up the original device and entered his lab. Lore's body lay stark naked under a frosted glass panel, which slid back with a touch. Rontaerius gently probed the edge of the sub-dermal paneling underneath the bioplast covering his chest cavity. It came loose, pulling back just a few centimeters to grant him enough space to work. He gently removed his inadequate replica and replaced it with the original. This was his final option. He resealed the chest cavity and taking a deep breath, he brought the matrix back online.
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Lore awoke with a start, flinching slightly. Seconds passed by as consciousness sunk in. Rontaerius was taken aback by his sudden reanimation and hesitated to act.
"S-security–" He began but was cut off as a hand grasped around his throat. Lore's eyes, dimly illuminated under blue lights, were devoid of emotion. He snatched a phase scalpel from the table in his right hand, holding it menacingly against the doctor's collar.
Rontaerius struggled, slipping through Lore's grip and launched himself over the operating table, scattering metal equipment across the floor with a crash.
"Lore! Lore… do you remember who I am?" He held his hands out, palms up.
"Where am I?"Lore hissed, still holding the scalpel threateningly.
"Look around you!"
Lore's nostrils flared. The language he used was familiar… His eyes flicked around the room and he froze, recognition building strength. Thousands of questions raced through his mind. This was impossible and here he was.
"The Idhaman Research Facility…" He began slowly, suspiciously.
"Yes…"
"Rontaerius Amon, I do remember you." Lore reactivated his internal chronometer. Eight years…. "How? How much has happened?"
"I don't think I could adequately explain..." Rontaerius stood upright, straightening his shirt and coat.
Lore loosened his vice grip on the scalpel, placing it in Rontaerius's outstretched hand.
"I would very much like to go home." Lore whispered.
"Come with me, we'll find you some cloths."
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Jamaal paced back and forth between the closed door and B-4. He watched her, his own fingers tangling themselves and detangling themselves over and over out of nervousness. He had never in his life felt such apprehension.
Rontaerius strode briskly down the hall behind them, hastily opening the door with his key fob. B-4 stood, following them. They stood behind the glass view panel, watching. Lore had made a perch of the operating table, curled over his knees, his bare feet exposed on the cold table. Jamaal gave one last nervous glace at the cyberneticist and she entered the room. Lore's head snapped up and he rose from the table.
He looked her up and down, afraid to touch her. Her eyes had an almost sunken appearance. She looked pale and unhealthy, her hair greasy and limp. Had she always been so slight and fragile? He knew that in reality she was far more durable. He met her gaze and peered into her brazen blue eyes.
"Lore." she repeated. Apparently he had not heard her the first time. "What do you remember?"
The silence spiraled between the two of them and it was a few moments before he could respond.
"Everything." He breathed, his voice haggard and dry.
She bit her lip until it was numb.
"They've cleared you to leave the facility, but you'll be placed under psychological evaluation." Rontaerius informed the two of them.
Lore seemed not to hear him. His fingers grazed the hem of her blouse, much in the way a young child might touch their mother, all the while his wide-eyed expression of shock never once slipped off of his face. All his memories raced through his mind at high speed. He caught glimpses of his father, the blue storm front of the Raan star nebula, Data's expressionless mask, a fleeting sun, the expressions of anger uniform across the Borg's faces. He choked on his own guilt. Unaware of the tightening pain, he unconsciously massaged his chest with the hilt of his arm.
"We can leave if you would like, but first there is something we need to discuss." She turned and the door clicked open behind her. Lore took a step to the side in order to get a better view.
"Data?" he asked in disbelief, his voice a low and dangerous tone. He stumbled forward a step."No…," Lore spoke to himself, answering his own question.
The strangest sensation washed over him as something registered in Lore's mind. He peered into this android's eyes and the feeling of familiarity was overwhelming... It was as though he were looking through a dirty, darkened mirror. The reflection stirred with his movements, but it appeared alien – unrecognizable. His brother stared back at him through the glass.
Who are you?