Counsellor Troi and Commander Riker were helping the 190cm Klingon to his feet, a gallant task even for two normal people, and Herculean when one of them is a 165cm woman of delicate build. But as soon as his ears caught an unusual bleep issuing from the security console, Worf rallied himself and leaped to his station like a tiger.
"Didn't you hear that? It means somebody's commbadge has been destroyed," he growled. Worf may have just woken to find himself lying on the floor being tended by a slender half-Betazoid , but his security training was not going to let him down any more today. He was sure of that.
"It's Data's, sir," he reported, analysing the signal. " Coming from Dr Crusher's living quarters. The signal indicates that the commbadge has been snapped in two by something of impressive strength."
"Let's
hope she hasn't snapped off anything else of Data's," said Riker grimly,
evincing an appalled glance from Worf, whose colour began to drain away again.
"Or of Wesley's," whispered Deanna.
There was an unpleasant pause before Worf added, "The commpad in the Crusher family quarters has been disabled."
As one, they all had the same thought. Dr Crusher was busy performing her emergency surgery on the wretched Ensign Hucker. Wesley was supposed to have been staying safe and sound in his room. But if Data had met with an attacker in the Crushers' quarters, then...
"Get the main search team in there right now," barked Picard. "Number One, get down there too. Lieutenant Worf -"
"Captain,"
said Deanna gently, "perhaps Worf ought to stay here to monitor...any
signals from Data or from the animatronic machine....or something."
Picard caught her eye and registered its pleading expression.
"Good idea, Counsellor. Worf, you are far too valuable to be allowed off the bridge right now...Commander Riker, gather up a team and for heaven's sake, don't let anything happen to that boy.
"Or I'll never hear the end of it," he muttered to himself as his officers sped from the room.
………………………………………………………………………….
"And last but by no means least, Fanny, this is the king. Your sole objective is to threaten to take him."
"You mean, I fuck him?"
Fanny picked up the carved wooden piece and examined it.
"He's too tiny," she said. "I wouldn't be able to get a purchase. Do I break him in two or something?"
"No, it is not like that. You just have to threaten to take him with another piece by placing one of your pieces in such a situation that a subsequent move, in accordance with the differentiated moves I have just shown you, would enable it to land on the king's square….Look, I'll set the board up and we can have a practice game."
Fanny's bottom lip stuck out. She slumped onto one of Dr Crusher's boudoir chairs with her tiny, pointed chin resting on her slender hand, as Data began to busy himself with the pieces.
"I am going to make this very simple for you, Fanny. I am going to play both black and white, and you just sit and watch the game."
"Can't I watch sitting on your lap?"
Data gave her a patient look.
"Very well, Fanny."
Looking a little more interested, Fanny got up and wiggled over to Data, who was sitting in Dr Crusher's armchair. She poured herself into his lap and began running her fingers hopefully over him.
Data extracted her fingers from inside his waistband and gently held her hand in his. She looked desperately disappointed.
"Now watch this carefully, Fanny. To help you to concentrate, I shall let you move the pieces yourself. Can you remember which square is which?"
"Gee, I don't know." Fanny frowned again.
"Do not worry, I shall guide your hand. Let us start with a classic Sicilian defence. 1 e4 c5 2 Nf3 e6 3 d4 cxd4 4 Nxd4 a6 5 Nc3 Nc6 6 Be3 Nf6 7 Bd3 d5 8 exd5 exd5. Fanny, you will observe that Black does not play 8….Nxd5 which would end up giving White an obvious advantage.
"Please leave my zipper alone, Fanny, or I shall be forced to restrain your arms behind your back. Good girl.
"So. I think White now plays 9 0-0 Bd6 10 Nxc6 bxC6 11 Bd4 0-0; Wait, I wonder if maybe White should have played 10 a3 followed by 11 N/B3-c2 and 12 Qf3? Perhaps that would have been more promising. But I must not bend the rules against myself, must I?"
Fanny shook her head dumbly. A glazed expression was already passing over her lovely face.
Data smiled sadly at her and considered the board.
"White is going to play 12 Qf3 – just to make it more exciting really. Of course, a more accurate move would be 12 a3. But I have a feeling we are going to let Black have the advantage in this game, do you not?
"12….Be6 13 Rfe1 c5 14 Bxf6 Qxf6 15 Qxf6 gxf6. That has removed the queens. Zsuza always says she enjoys what she calls their 'faggy handbag fight'."
"Who's Zsuza?" Fanny asked, suddenly more alert. Data regarded her critically, as though something had gone wrong in his plans.
"A friend. So we move to 16 Rad1 Rfd8 17 Be2 Rab8 18 b3 c4 19 Nxd5!
"Please note, Fanny, the enterprising exchange sacrifice. This is the best way to cope with the threat of 19….Bg4."
The glazed expression had returned to Fanny's face and her fingers worked more slowly in their attempts to get inside Data's uniform. She curled up against his chest, gazing alternately up at his face and down at the board as he talked.
"Black plays 19….bd5 instead; 20 Rxd5 Bxh2+: Look, Fanny, check! This is becoming exciting. 21 Kxh2 Rxd5 22 Bxc4 Rd2!(Of course, if 22…Rd6 23 Re7! But now if 23 Re7 it is heading for check, Fanny, check! and Black has some winning chances in hand. Very well, Fanny, I shall kiss you once but I think you will agree this is getting very intriguing.) 23 Bxa6 Rxc2 24 Re2 Rxe2 25 Bxe2 Rd8 26 a4! What do you think of that, my dear? …Rd2 27 Bc4 Ra2 28 Kg3 Kf8 29 Kf3 Ke7. The game is afoot!"
Fanny's fingers lay limply in his lap. Taking her delicate chin in his hand and tilting her head gently backwards, he saw that her eyes were no longer focussing but were rolling in their sockets.
"Data," she said in a slurred voice.
"Yes, my dear?"
"Not…very….bright…."
"No, Fanny, I am sure you can understand this. Concentrate. Please, Fanny. I so, so much want you to understand this."
Her head flopped heavily onto his chest.
"Fanny," said Data urgently, "your function is to disable men's sexuality in return for a few moments of pleasure. But I, Fanny – I would willingly delete my entire sexuality program if only you were able to understand this game. I would gladly – happily - embrace the fate which human men seem to dread, if only you could try to understand this game."
Fanny did not answer, but lay quite still with her tousled blonde head resting against Data's chest and her eyes closed. He rested his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes too, as if in prayer.
Five minutes later, there was a crash as Riker and his team burst through the bedroom door.
The men stared at their android seated in Dr Crusher's armchair. Enfolded and apparently sleeping in his arms was a fabulously gorgeous blonde girl, modestly wrapped in one of Dr Crusher's best bed-sheets. A lace lilac thong lay, discarded and torn, beside the chessboard.
"She is dead, Commander," said Data.
(end of chapter 7)
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