Chapter 29
"Data," Andile protested - again - as he led her through the corridors, "I can't just go sit in my quarters! I need to see Erzhen. I need to make
sure he's all right!"
"Dr. Matthews will attend to the ensign's care," Data replied calmly, his hand not relaxing one iota.
"Dr. Matthews is a horse's ass!" she snapped back. "He may be a qualified doctor - but there's a hell of a lot more to caring for a person than treating their injuries! Data, it's Erzhen's first trip in deep space - and his first time he's ever been hurt. When he comes to, he's going to be in shock, he's going to be scared..."
"And there will be appropriate personnel there to attend to his needs," Data said flatly.
"His physical needs - but what about his psychological ones?" she protested, painfully jerking her arm free of his grasp and whirling to confront him.
"I am sure that Dr. Crusher and Counselor Troi are well versed in treating injuries and their concomitant emotional ramifications," he replied.
"But I should still be there!" Andile complained. "I was training him; I had the obligation to watch out after him! I'm the one who should be there when he wakes up!"
"That is not possible," the android said flatly. "You have been ordered to eat and sleep. Geordi stated he will attend to Ensigns Cho and Dulfer in your absence."
"But it's my responsibility!" she argued.
The android stared at her, seeing the guilt and pain in her eyes - but unable to comprehend either at the moment. "But that responsibility has reverted to Geordi, as you have been ordered to perform another task," he said flatly. "You must trust that he will fulfill this duty in your stead," he added.
Andile turned to him, hearing the hurt in his voice. "Of course, I trust him," she replied, quickly adding, "professionally - as I trust you," she continued, suspecting that matter was still troubling the android. "If he said he'd take care of them, he will - but it doesn't change the fact that it's my responsibility!" she argued.
"You mean you believe it is your fault," Data corrected.
She glared at him, ready to argue the point, then looked away. "I had told them not to do anything without me," she said softly, her voice heavy with shame, "but they're young, enthusiastic... I could see it in their eyes that they wanted to prove themselves to me - and I walked away!" she cried out as she whirled back to face him. "I left them!"
"You had given them an order, Lieutenant," he replied, his voice stern. "You had to assume that even though they were young and enthusiastic, they would follow that fundamental premise: that an order from a superior must be obeyed. They chose not to do so - and the consequences..."
"... may kill Erzhen," Andile whispered.
"It very nearly killed you," Data added.
Andile rolled her eyes. "Data, we haven't covered exaggeration in your lessons yet, and I'm really not in a mood to start on it tonight. No, I heard what Dr. Matthews said - I got a minor burn and the wind knocked out of me - that's all." She gave a short, sardonic chuckle. "Besides, I'm a tough old bird; you don't want to know what it would take to kill me."
Data began to reply - then stopped. Whatever he had been about to say, he quickly changed it. "Nonetheless, you were injured, even if Dr. Matthews believes the injuries to be minor. You now have a responsibility to follow the orders that have been issued to you subsequent to that injury, that is, to eat and to rest."
"And I'll do both - just as soon as I check on Erzhen!" she said, pulling away from Data - only to have the vise-like hand wrap around her arm once more.
"I cannot permit that, Lieutenant," he said firmly, pulling her back to his side.
She struggled for a moment, trying to free herself from his hold, but his grip could not be broken this time. Desperate, she pleaded, "You don't understand! Geordi or no Geordi, it's still my responsibility! I need to make sure they're all right!"
He turned to face her. "This conduct, Lieutenant, is unbecoming to you. If you have a responsibility to the ensigns, you have an equal responsibility to the crew as a whole. Please behave yourself," he added.
Andile stared at him, the stunned pain unmistakable in her face - then nodded. "Yes, sir," she whispered.
Seemingly resigned to her fate, she fell silent, letting him lead her through the halls, blind to everything but her own failure, paying no attention to where he led her - until they reached the set of doors and stopped.
"Data," she exclaimed as she raised her head, "these aren't my quarters."
"No," Data agreed, stepping close enough to the sensor to trigger the opening mechanism. "They are mine." He stepped into the room, pulling her through behind him, then, after waiting for the door to shut, released her arm at last.
Absently rubbing the sore spot, Andile stepped further into the room, staring at its contents - then suddenly glanced down at her feet. "Hey! Where'd you come from?" she asked, looking down at the orange and white creature that was pressing itself against her ankles.
"Spot!" Data said, instantly mortified by the cat's behavior. "You are not supposed to annoy visitors," he began, only to be silenced as Andile reached to the floor, scooping up the animal with one hand, and drawing it to her chest.
"He's not annoying me, Data," she said, stroking the animal's head. "He's just coming to say, "Who the hell's on my territory?'" Andile informed him - then raised the cat to her eye level. "It's all right, cat..." she started.
"Her name is Spot," Data informed her.
"It's all right, Spot," she continued to the cat, "I'm not poaching on your territory - I promise," she quietly informed the animal, then lowered her back to her chest, continuing to massage the soft fur between her ears.
Spot gave a silken purr, nestled her head against Andile's chest, then glared at Data accusingly.
"She wants to know why you've brought me here," Andile interpreted.
"I have brought the lieutenant here..." Data began, then stopped as he realized he was addressing the cat. Turning his attention to the woman, he started again. "I am under orders, Lieutenant, to make sure that you eat and rest. Here, I can ensure you do both," he informed her.
"I can do both in my quarters as well," she argued.
"But you will not," he countered - then stepped toward her, gently grasping her by the arms - then, realizing the cat was in the way, extricated the animal from her arms, and set her on the floor before reaching for Andile's arms once again, gently, this time. "Lieutenant... Andile, I believe that in the last three months, I have come to know you well. Part of that knowledge includes an awareness of your personal predilections - including an overdeveloped sense of duty toward others. Knowing this, I am of the belief that once I have escorted you to your quarters, you will neither eat nor sleep, but rather, wait a small but suitable period of time, then go to Sickbay and or Ensign Dulfer's quarters. Both would be contradictory to Dr. Matthews orders."
"On the contrary," she said pointedly. "_I_ was never given any orders."
Data studied her, taken aback by the seeming lie - then cocked his head to one side, replaying the events of the evening in his mind. After a moment, he gave a conciliatory nod. "You are correct; the orders were directed to me, not to you." He considered a moment longer, appreciating her mental clarity - then gave her a guarded look. "But having _not_ received said instructions, you could therefore justify such an exploit," Data said, nodding in understanding at her rationale.
She smiled. "I'm glad you understand. So if you'd just look the other way..." she said, sidling toward the door.
"I, however, have been given orders," he reminded her, stepping in front of her. "Orders that I am bound to obey. By bringing you here, I can ensure that you will not leave until you have complied with the doctor's directives."
"You mean I'm under arrest," she growled.
"I would not phrase it in such a manner..." he disagreed.
"Then what you call it?" she snapped. "Look, Data, you could have locked me in my quarters and ordered the computer not to release the door until I ate and slept, you know - it would have been just as easy," she argued, "unless, of course, you think I'd slither out one of the air vents," she added acidly.
He studied her for a minute, glanced at the air vent in his own room, as if considering the possibility, then shook his head. "While I concede that it is a possibility - physically, you are small enough to fit through that space - I do not believe you would do so; such an action would indicate that you understood the nature of Dr. Matthew's directives as an order - and therefore, your actions would be considered as insubordination." He looked at her, studying her intently for a moment. "And as much as you feel responsible for what happened, I do not believe you would you risk such an action," he explained.
"Data, I do what's necessary for my people - even if it means insubordination - or worse," she said bluntly, coldly - then gave a shake of her head. "But you're right; I wouldn't do it in these circumstances."
He gave a sigh of relief.
"But that still doesn't explain why we're here," she reminded him.
"As I stated, here I can monitor your compliance with orders," he said,
"as well as complete my own obligations."
"Obligations?"
"You have reminded me on several occasions that our personal relations must take a 'back seat' to our professional ones. As Chief Operations Officer, I have several reports that must be compiled on a daily basis; I usually use a part of my evening hours doing so..."
"It must be nice to be able to work twenty-four hours a day," Andile said enviously.
Data considered the idea for a moment, then tilted his head to the side. "I had never considered it as either nice or not nice. It simply... is."
"Well, is there anything I can do to help you?" she asked, moving toward the computer that stood in the place of the table in the main room.
"Yes," he said flatly. "You can fulfill the first of your obligations as well as the first of mine - to eat a meal," he said, stepping to the replicator. "What may I get you?"
Andile shook her head. "Nothing," she replied. "Really, I'm not hungry."
"The consumption of a meal was not an option, Lieutenant," he reminded her. "But if you do not have a preference, I can make a selection for you."
"No!" she said instantly, almost panicking at the idea. "I mean," she began - then stopped, sighed, and looked up at him. "Data," she said softly, almost pleadingly, "I... I... Can you keep a secret?" she said.
"I have stated that I can alter my programming to delete any memory; if you wish, I can delete any recollection of information you tell me - providing that information would not cause harm to the ship," he reminded her.
Andile smiled and shook her head. "I didn't mean it that way, Data - I just meant... I want to explain something, and I don't want it getting around," she explained.
He thought for a moment, then nodded. "I can keep a secret," he agreed.
"A few years ago, there was... an accident," she said slowly, uncomfortably. "I was... hurt. Badly," she added miserably. "I..." She hesitated, then shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it. Just let it suffice to say that I my ability to digest food was impaired. I can only tolerate small amounts of food at one time - and even they have to be quite simple compounds - which means there's only a few things on the replicator programs that I can handle. Simple broths, soups, some cereals..." She hesitated, then looked at him uncomfortably. "I don't weigh very much, Data - and eating in Ten Forward when you're my size... Well, everyone is always trying to get me to eat more. I know they mean well - but the pain is unbearable when I eat the wrong things or eat too much. And when I refuse, they get more insistent..." Her voice trailed off.
"You could explain the nature of your dietary restrictions," Data suggested.
"No," she replied. "I can't do that - even if I wanted to. But I don't want to, Data. I... I don't want to talk about it. To anyone."
Data took the same moment to consider silently as well - then nodded. "I believe I understand. In that case, what selections can you consume?"
She shook her head. "Really, you don't have to bother. I'm not hungry..."
"I do not recall the order being stated in the form of an option," Data reminded her firmly.
She studied him for a moment, then realized this was not a battle she could win. "I usually have broth at night," she conceded. "Mushroom, vegetable - anything simple. It doesn't matter," she added with a dismissive shrug. "It's just nourishment."
"I thought that humans savored the experience of dining," Data countered, confused.
"They do," she agreed. "But... It's never been very important to me."
Data looked at her worriedly - then reached for her hand, guiding her to the chair before the computer desk. "Sit," he ordered, then turned back to the replicator, his voice just loud enough for the machine to hear - but too low for the woman. Curious, she watched as a tray appeared, two napkins at one side, an oddly shaped spoon on the other, and a small covered bowl at its center.
Before he places the bowl before her, however, Data took one of the napkins, spread it over the desk - then carefully arranged the bowl and spoon in front of her, then, with a dramatic flourish, opened the second napkin and spread it across her lap.
"Rather elaborate for soup," she murmured.
"Is this not appropriate?" he asked.
"It's not inappropriate," Andile admitted. "It just seems to be a bit much - for soup."
"Andile, if you cannot fully enjoy the gustatory experience of a meal, you should at least be able to enjoy the other sensory aspects of dining," he
advised her.
Andile looked up at him, surprised by his attitude - then studied the arrangement before her. "It _does_ look nicer than what I usually do," she admitted.
Data gave a single nod, then removed the cover from the bowl, revealing a pool of steaming liquid.
Curious, Andile leaned forward, staring through the rising strands of steam into the bowl of milky-golden fluid, the thin strands of green rising and falling around tiny white cubes.
"And this," she sighed softly, almost reverentially, "is beautiful." Leaning over the bowl, she drew in a deep breath of the steam - and smiled. It looked beautiful - and smelled even better.
To her surprise, she suddenly realized she was hungry.
Taking the oddly flattened spoon, she filled the bowl, raised it to her lips, blew on it - then sipped the broth.
"Oh, my," she said, looking up at the android who was standing over her with an unexpectedly apprehensive expression. "It's lovely. Really," she added, then smiled as the expression faded.
"I am glad you like it," he said. "It is miso soup - from Japan - on Earth," he explained. "A friend of mine, Keiko O'Brien, recorded the program before she and her husband left for Deep Space Nine. She said she enjoyed the soup not just for its flavor, but for the patterns of the miso within the broth." He looked at the bowl wistfully. "I have made it for myself on many occasions - but despite many hours of contemplation, I am afraid I have never been able to fully appreciate either the subtleties or complexities," he admitted plaintively.
"Maybe you're trying too hard, dear," she said - then reached out her hand. "Come sit with me and maybe we can understand it together."
Drawing up a second chair, he sat beside the woman, staring into the broth - then shook his head. "I am afraid I still do not see the pattern," he said mournfully.
"Not a pattern, dear. Just... patterns. Watch," she said, giving the soup a tiny stir with her spoon. "Up... down... swirling... No pattern, dear. It just... is," she assured him. "Very zen," she added, staring at the broth.
Data stared a moment longer, then looked up at her and tentatively, almost nervously, said, "Zen... you should finish it before it is cold."
Andile's jaw dropped as she turned to him. "Data! You made a joke!" she exclaimed.
"Not a joke, per se, but rather a play on words and pronunciations..." he began to explain – then stopped, realizing that he was over-explaining. "Was it humorous?" he asked – a little anxiously.
"Yes, it was!" she said, putting down the spoon, leaning over the desk and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Data, that was clever – and funny!"
Relieved at his success, he accepted the embrace - then reached up, pulling her arms from his neck, and placed the spoon in her hand once more. "Good," he said. "Now eat."
Put out, she stuck out her tongue - then took another sip from the spoon as he watched her intently.
"Data," Andile protested - gently, "I know you said you'd make sure I ate - but I don't think Dr. Matthews meant you had to document every bite!" she said with a smile.
"My apologies, Lieutenant. It was not my intention to interfere with your dining. Would you prefer I leave?" he asked, contrite.
"No. I just meant..." She laughed again, this time, the sound soft and delicate. "It's just... I'm just not used to having anyone around while I eat. It's been a long time. But..." she said at last, "I'm enjoying being here with you," she admitted softly.
And she was, she realized: the soup was delicious - though too good, she reminded herself even as she took another spoonful - she'd pay the price for indulging in it later - and Data's quarters were anything but what she expected from the android.
Surreptitiously glancing about the room, she studied the artwork that hung on the walls, samples from half a dozen artists that she could recognize - and at least one that she couldn't.
Data's own work? she wondered. Had painting been one more venue that he had used in trying to expand his human horizons? Quite likely, she decided - though obviously done some years before; they were technically brilliant - but utterly lacking in any emotional impact.
Before he had his emotion chip, she thought; before he had discovered what feelings were.
And yet, perhaps he had known something about emotions, even then; after all, she thought as she felt a soft and furry pressure rubbing against her ankles once again, he had a pet - and judging from the gray muzzle she had seen on the animal's face, he had had him - her? - for some years, since long before he had had emotions.
Andile had no doubt that the cat had been part of an experiment of Data's, she thought, a study of how human interact with their pets - but the experiment had ended long ago - and the cat was still here. If Data had been as anemotional as he claimed, he would have relieved himself of that feline obligation when his research was ended - and yet, here Spot remained.
Why? she asked herself. Obligation? A sense of responsibility toward the cat?
Or, perhaps... loneliness?
Whatever the reason, it was clear to her that Data must have had at least some level of rudimentary feelings, even then - compassion, loyalty... friendship... feelings that, given time and encouragement over the years, could well have blossomed into genuine emotions of his own.
But time was not a luxury that the android had given himself; aware - possibly too aware, she added sadly, of the fragility of human life and the passage of time for his friends, he had forced the issue by having the emotion chip implanted in himself - and was paying the price now of having those very feelings - but without the understanding that time would have granted him.
She smiled to herself, wondering if Data understood the sense of urgency that must have driven him - or understood the fact that even before he had had his emotion chip, he had had emotions.
Curious, she glanced at him - only to find him still studying her.
Red-faced, she took another spoonful of the soup.
"Andile, may I ask a question?" he asked quietly.
"Aside from that one?" she smiled, taking another sip of the soup.
He frowned, then realized she was correct and nodded.
"It's your house, Data; you can spit on the floor and call the cat a bastard," she reminded him.
He stared at her, astounded. "Why would I wish to...? Ah!" he exclaimed, suddenly brightening. "I understand. A turn of phrase indicating that I may establish the levels of conduct within the area in which I reside." He nodded, understanding her meaning - then gave her a knowing look. "In that case, Andile, I require that you be honest with me. You feel... guilty over the incident this evening, do you not?" he asked her
Andile set down the spoon and wiped her mouth off slowly, then set down the napkin beside her. She thought for a moment, then slowly raised her head and met his eyes. "You're getting to be as good a reader of people as I am," she said - then nodded. "Yes; I feel guilty."
"You should not," he replied gently. "I heard you order Ensigns Cho and Dulfer not to proceed without your presence..."
"But they did," she reminded him.
"Andile, you can not control the actions of others; you did not know what they were going to do..."
"But I did!" she snapped - then lowered her head into her hands, miserable. "Oh, gods, Data, I knew they were going to do it - and I didn't even try to stop them!" she repeated, her voice growing softer, angrier.
"You gave the order; I will confirm that for the captain..."
"The captain?" she roared, looking up at him, infuriated. "The captain? By the gods, Data! Is that what you think I'm upset about? You think I'm worried about care what he thinks - or does?" she seethed, her eyes flaring at the insult.
Data stared at her, utterly uncomprehending. "But..."
"Data," she cut in, "the worst that captain can do to me is bring me up on charges, throw me out of Starfleet and send me to prison! But no one," she said emptily, her voice growing quiet, "no one! - can ever take away the knowledge that what happened to those two boys today was my fault - and there isn't going to be a day in the rest of my life when I'm going to be able to wake up without seeing all of their faces," she whispered.
Data stared at the woman for a moment, then rose from his chair and came around the table.
Taking her hands in his, he sank down beside her chair, looking up into the eyes that were focused, so unhappily, on her lap. "I do not understand. All whose faces?"
"Erzhen's. Liam's," she said quickly - too quickly, Data thought. "Both of them, in such pain - because I failed them," she replied. "Oh, Data! I saw the truth in their faces - and I ignored it."
"Ignored what?" he pressed. "What truth?"
Andile looked at him, the pain that she was feeling unmistakable. "That they're young, Data," she said softly, miserably, "young and enthusiastic - and full of the need to prove themselves to themselves - and to everyone around them. And there I was, telling them stories about my years teaching at the Academy, working at Utopia and designing this ship... and I could see the admiration growing in their eyes. And I was enjoying it," she added bitterly.
"Pride, Data; my pride. My need to be admired, to be respected - I saw that look in their eyes - but I was enjoying it too much to think beyond it," she said.
He shook his head. "I still do not understand," he admitted.
"I was so busy enjoying being admired that I didn't bother with thinking it through; Liam and Erzhen are young - but more importantly, they're new here, and anxious to prove themselves to everyone – to me! - by learning fast and getting the work done ahead of time?" she cried out - then buried her head in her hands once again, sickened by her own hubris.
"I saw it - and I knew what they were thinking - and I did nothing to stop them. If Erzhen dies... Gods, even if he doesn't, this was all my fault. Andile!" she cried. "Andile!"
Uncomprehending, Data stared at her, then reached for her hands, pulling them away from her face, then slowly pulling her to her feet. "Do not do this to yourself," he said softly.
"You don't understand, Data..."
"I do," he countered. "You are fatigued; your body and your emotions are exhausted," he explained as he guided her toward the bed, "and that exhaustion is allowing your emotions to get the better of your reason. You should rest, and in the morning..."
"In the morning, Erzhen will still be hurt, Liam will still be upset..."
"But you will be calm and better able to deal with their feelings - and with your own," he informed her as he led her toward the alcove where the seldom used bed stood.
"Data..." she began to protest - but he shook his head, refusing to hear her arguments, staring at her intently for a moment - then stepped away.
There was the quiet sound of a replicator running - then he returned, a piece of fabric held before him.
"A sleeping garment," he explained, pressing it into her hands. "I have estimated your body size, but I am told by others that a slightly overlarge sleeping garment is not displeasurable. Is it acceptable?"
She stared at him, confused. "You want me to sleep here?"
"I must ensure that you rest, Andile – but I also must complete my reports. It would be expeditious for you to remain here so that I can complete both assignments prior to the beginning of my duty shift," he explained.
She thought for a few moments, then turned, raising her hand to the collar of her uniform.
Data stepped from the alcove, leaving the woman to change alone. He had no sense of body modesty, but he understood the concept - and Andile, he thought, with her insistence on wearing a uniform that covered almost all of her body - indeed, even overly-long in some areas - might be exceptionally modest.
Then again, he added as he cleared the remnants of Andile's dinner from his computer desk, the fact that her uniform was almost skin-tight might indicate the opposite. An interesting contradiction, he thought - and one that they might discuss... in the morning, he decided, finding that realization that she would be there strangely... pleasing.
Setting the dishes into the replicator, he watched as they were dematerialized - then stepped back to the alcove - where Andile, now ensconced in the nightgown, stood, staring emptily at the charred remains of her uniform.
"I'll have to get one from my quarters," she said, her exhaustion manifesting itself in her slurred words.
"I shall have one replicated..." he replied, taking the damaged one from her hands.
But she cut him off with a shake of her head. "Can't," she said flatly. "Your computer doesn't have the pattern. Brought mine with from Utopia. Brought three... only two left now," she added, looking up at him blearily.
It was not just fatigue, he realized at once; it was shock, the events of the day having suddenly taken their physical and emotional toll. Pulling back the coverlet, he eased her down to the mattress, pushed her gently against the pillows, then pulled the coverlet over her. "Computer," he called out, "reduce ambient lighting by ninety percent."
"But..." she protested sleepily, "your report..."
"By adjusting my visual receptors, I am fully capable of working with no ambient light should the circumstances warrant it," he informed her. "That notwithstanding, I recommend that this amount be left on for your comfort should you awaken in the middle of the night," he added.
"But your work..."
"Andile," he said quietly, "let me do this for you."
She looked at him for moment, then nodded. "Thank you," she whispered, then closed her eyes.
"Let me do this as well," he added.
She opened her eyes. "Do what?"
"Inform you that neither Ensign Cho nor Ensign Dulfer acted out of a sense of self-glorification," he informed her. "They wished to impress you, yes - but not because of your history in Starfleet or your personal achievements. They acted as they did... because they are in love with you," he said softly.
Andile's eyes opened as she looked up at him - then closed again as she gave a soft laugh. "In love - with me. Oh, yes. Of course," she laughed.
"They are," he insisted.
"As am I."
