Author's Note: Thank you so much for your continued support on this story! I truly enjoy all of our comments and engaging in discussion with you all about your theories, ideas, and thoughts.
You lot are simply the best!
Sorry it has been a longer time between updates. The reason for this is that I've been working hard so that I can offer an "End of the Year" drop.
That's right – I'll be dropping new content each day 25 December – 3 Jan (Please note: Not all drops will be for this story)
Once their holiday is complete, the crew will return to San Francisco for the Command Conference before embarking on their next mission. The Command Conference is going to feature a Lower Decks reference and a hint about what's coming re: Conspiracy.
I was always disappointed that Conspiracy seemed to be a major plot hole of the first series. There was so much potential there! We're going to see it play out a wee bit different. It certainly won't be a one-off episodic arc.
So what's coming next on our roadmap?
- The Command Conference
- The Battle
- The Big Goodbye
- Datalore
- The Bynars & Hollow Pursuits (feat. a tie-in with And Then There Was Fun).
As always, if you like to chat about writing or the fandom join me on Trek Twitter TheTartanTart.
The walk back home was quiet. Tasha tried to make conversation. To reassure Data that is OK. He didn't know. And she felt responsible for setting him up.
Data felt like the fault was his. He understood now why the villagers had seemed alarmed and confused by his reaction.
Data was mortified.
"Perhaps I am not as emotionally advanced as I previously thought," Data commented as they walked along the road. "It would seem my programming has failed."
"Don't say that," Tasha replied. "It's actually quite human to misread a room."
She took hold of his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Data frowned. They had been outside.
He understood enough to know that Tasha's phrase was an idiom of some form.
Yet, the meaning escaped him.
And that made him feel all the more isolated.
It was one more glaring example of (at least in Data's mind) why he wasn't human enough.
Tasha could see he was struggling and that her choice of words had only further complicated the matter.
"Data, anyone could have made that mistake," she assured him.
When they reached the farmhouse, Data offered to settle Clopper in for the night.
"I'll help," Tasha offered.
A pained expression crossed Data's face.
"I believe I would like to be alone for a while," Data confessed.
Tasha's brow wrinkled as she reached up and stroked the side of his face.
"I am not, as you would say, alright," Data shared with a heavy sigh.
"Data-" Tasha began to say.
"But I will be," Data said as he caught her hand. "I just need some time alone to… process."
Tasha nodded in understanding, but there was pain in her eyes.
"Can you please do something for me?" she asked.
Data cocked his head to the side.
"Will you check in with me in an hour?" Tasha inquired. "And if you still want to be alone after that, I understand. I just want you to check in, OK?"
She glanced around at the dark farmyard.
"It's lonely out here," she went on. "And you don't have to be alone."
Data kissed the inside of her wrist and then turned to bring Clopper round to the stable behind the house.
Tasha wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath as she watched him go.
Once he was around the backside of the house, Data slowly walked Clopper to the stable. After detaching his tack. Data set to work grooming Clopper and offering their equestrian companion some affection.
In a way, it was soothing.
It gave Data a chance to avoid conversation while still not being alone. It wasn't that he wanted to avoid Tasha. But he knew that she'd be watching him – even if they sat in silence.
Clopper inhaled deeply and then took his time releasing it in a manner that was very similar to a human sigh as Data gently scratched his neck.
Horses were complex creatures and they fascinated Data – and not simply because of his exobiology background. Like humans, horses had both individualistic traits, group dynamics, and intricate social skills.
Reading horses could be just as difficult as reading people.
After he was finished brushing Clopper's mane and checking to ensure he was in good health, Data ensured that Clopper was fed. Oswalt had provided them with an interesting mix of hay, chaff, and cooked root vegetables.
It seemed this was Clopper's preferred favourite.
"Good lad," Data said.
He rested his head against Clopper's neck and pet him. There was something very reassuring about animal companionship. Data's thoughts wandered briefly as he considered the possibility of animal companionship on the Enterprise.
There were plenty of crew members with furry, scaley, and fishy family members.
An animal companion would be a huge responsibility. Data realised that any potential companion would need to be an animal capable of relative independence outside of a feeding schedule and certainly something used to periods of solitude.
Data's roles aboard the ship meant that there were times he would be gone from his quarters for ten, twelve, sometimes eighteen hours at a time.
A soft snort from Clopper brough Data out of his daydream. He checked the time, it had been approximately forty minutes.
Data fetched a sugar cube from his pocket and held it out for Clopper.
"Goodnight, Clopper," Data said before picking up the tack.
He ensured it was clean, hung it by the door, and then returned to the farmhouse.
Once inside the door, Data's eyes adjusted to the dim glow of the oil lamp on the table. He glanced over to the sitting room to find it was dark. Stepping up to the ladder, he observed it was entirely dark upstairs in the bedroom too.
The sound of water drew his attention down to the floor near the coal stove.
"Hey," Tasha said.
Data hopped off the ladder and knelt down next to her, studying the scene.
"Tasha, why are you sitting naked in the middle of the kitchen in a bucket?" Data asked.
Tasha chuckled.
"It's not a bucket," she replied. "It's a tub."
In Data's opinion, it wasn't a terribly large tub compared to what they were used to on the Enterprise. It was maybe a metre wide and a little over a metre deep.
In his opinion, it did not look particularly comfortable.
Tasha had her knees pulled up to her chest and there appeared to be little room to move around. Tasha was resting her chin on her kneecaps. Other than her bony knees, the very edge of her shoulders was the only other thing poking out of the water.
"But why are you bathing in the kitchen?" Data asked.
"It's the warmest room in the house," Tasha responded. "Why else do you think they keep the tub in here?"
Data raised and lowered his eyebrows as he considered her argument. The kitchen truly was the warmest room in the whole house. And when the sun had dropped, the temperature had followed.
"Besides, the copper is in here and I wasn't going to haul all this water any further," Tasha added.
The copper was a large, antiquated device that provided hot water for the house. It was a heavy copper holding tank similar to a cauldron. It was surrounded by brick and built directly into the wall of the house. At the base was a woodfire that provided the heat.
Data could understand Tasha's desire not to haul the hot water around.
"What?" Tasha asked.
Data was staring at her – not quite smiling, but there was a hint of a curve to the corner of his mouth.
"Forgive me. I am reflecting on the fact that for all the numerous times I have theorised you being in such a state of undress, this was not one of those situations," Data admitted.
Tasha cocked an eyebrow at him.
"I think it is strangely charming," Data added bashfully.
"I think that my neural pathways have become accustomed to your sensory input," Tasha said with a grin.
She could see the wheels in his mind start to spin as he contemplated the meaning.
"Tasha, are you mocking me? Or was that a euphemism for-" Data started to clarify.
She shifted in the tub so that she could rest her hands and chin against the edge.
"You're a cute duck," she said. "That is teasing you."
She pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.
"But there is nothing funny about your sensory input in my neural pathways," Tasha said with a wink, doing her best to channel Will Riker's signature cheesy charm.
Up until the wink, Tasha had managed to maintain a straight face. But her resolve cracked. She snorted before collapsing against the edge in a fit of giggles.
Data picked up a face flannel that was hanging over the edge and dipped it in the water. He wiped off Tasha's face and then returned it to the water.
Data stood up. He snagged the towel, pyjamas, and socks she'd folded neatly on the table.
"Well then," he said. "When your neural pathways are ready, I will be upstairs with my sensory input."
"Data?" Tasha asked as her eyes went wide.
"How silly of me," Data teased as he stopped to pick up the clothes she had worn earlier. "I shall add these to the laundry."
He turned and headed for the ladder, clutching her towels and every stitch of clothing she had brought down with her.
"Data! Data, I need those!" she called after him. "Data, come back!"
He did come back.
After a few minutes, Data had emerged with the towel and her pyjamas in hand. He'd thrown on the kettle, and they'd shared a cuppa before settling in together under a heavy quilt in an effort to fight back the chill of the autumn air.
"Would you like to return to the pond tomorrow?" Data asked.
"Yeah. Need to check the trap," Tasha said. "And hopefully stay dry this time."
She snuggled against him and yawned.
"What do you want to do?" she questioned.
"The pond offers a number of intriguing scenes. I will bring along my sketchbook," Data explained.
"It is really beautiful out there, isn't it?" Tasha sighed.
The pond was serene with its still, inky water. Tucked away between the various hills and limestone pavements, it was like their own tiny haven.
As Data shut down his processes and activated his rest programme, his mind drifted back to thoughts of Doctor Applewhite's murder. Data knew it wasn't his place to dwell on such an event – he had no authority to investigate the matter and did not wish to interfere.
But he couldn't help himself.
Data awoke in total darkness. Tasha was shivering next to him.
"Tasha?" he asked.
"I'm fine. Don't get up," she urged.
She snaked her arms around him and nestled in under the blankets against him.
"I forgot to add fuel to the stove before we went to sleep. It went out," she explained through chattering teeth. "It should kick up again in about an hour."
Tasha had awoken ten minutes earlier to find the stove had gone out. The room was freezing. After summoning the courage to put her icy feet on the cold, wooden floor. Tasha had quietly padded over to the stove to get it going again.
Data frowned.
"You mean, you got out of bed and came back?" Data inquired.
"Uh huh," Tasha replied.
He was confused. Any activity on her part or noise should have disturbed him from his rest programme. Yet, it hadn't roused him.
Tasha could be sneaky. But no one was that sneaky.
"But I did not wake," Data pondered aloud.
"Maybe you're just feeling very relaxed," Tasha suggested. "You needed rest."
"But Tasha, I have no biological need-" Data protested.
"Ah! Yes, you do," Tasha insisted. "Even if it's not exactly the same, it still serves the same function. Everyone needs to rest their brain now and again and-."
She stopped talking and inhaled sharply.
Tasha keened softly as warmth started to emanate from Data's body.
"I have temporarily overridden my coolant system parameters," Data explained.
While it wasn't a ton of heat, it was more than enough to begin the thawing process on her frozen extremities. Tasha's fingers and toes prickled, stinging as the feeling began to return.
"Isn't that dangerous?" she remarked.
It felt wonderful. But she certainly wasn't going to enjoy the feeling if it put Data in danger.
"Won't that harm you?" Tasha inquired.
"After a few hours, yes," Data admitted. "But it is safe for the time being. I will return my coolant system to the appropriate parameters after the room has returned to a safe level."
"But Data, I don't want you-" she began to say.
"Go to sleep," Data said with an air of finality.
Tasha chuckled softly, nuzzling against his torso before yawning. She felt silent and a few moments later, Data could detect the subtle change in her breathing that signalled she had fallen asleep.
As he sat there in the dark waiting for the coal stove in the corner to heat the room, he contemplated what possible motive someone could have for killing Doctor Applewhite. Data suspected that it had something to do with whatever letter the Doctor had posted before his death.
Unfortunately, Data knew that there was no possible way to obtain that letter without breaking the law.
No, he would have to look for clues elsewhere.
You are on holiday. Data reminded himself.
He was supposed to be relaxing. There was a constable in town and the authorities outside of the historical preserve had been notified. Besides, Data had already terrified and confused half the village with his response earlier in the evening.
It would do him no good to pry further.
'This is not the time for Sherlock Holmes' Tasha had said earlier.
Perhaps she was right. Data sighed, resigning himself not to get involved.
It was a shame, though . He mused internally.
That would have been a wonderful mystery.
A mystery worthy of Holmes.
The next morning Data was up early before the sunrise. After feeding Clopper, he left a note for Tasha that he would be back shortly.
He needed to pick up a few art supplies for sketching.
It was still early, but the town was already bustling with excitement. Data could smell the pleasant aroma of freshly baked bread wafting out of the bakery as he passed.
Carts loaded with supplies like coal, lumber, and the fruits of the year's harvest were rolling through town on their way to the blacksmith, market stalls, and various other shoppes.
Data was delighted to find that the shoppe he needed was, in fact, open.
According to the guide they were given by Oswalt, The Petal and Pastel was the best place in town to purchase art and craft supplies. Part gallery, part store, it was operated by a Doctor Marie Drummond who was one of the world's foremost experts on the likes of Claude Monet, Marie Bracquemond, and Emile Bernard.
Doctor Drummond was an artist herself and Data had coincidentally read a number of her published works on impressionism and post-impressionism art during his own study of the subject.
Data stepped in the shoppe and studied a few of the paintings hanging on the wall.
"I vill right zere!" a woman called out from a nearby loft.
She had a thick French accent and surmised she had to be Doctor Drummond.
"Please take your time. There is no rush," Data replied.
Data stopped in front of a curious painting that had caught his eye. It depicted a winter scene on the moors.
"Please. Tell me what you zink?" she asked.
"It is," Data paused.
He realised that his brutal honesty could sometimes come across as being rude and he had no desire to insult someone he admired.
"An intriguing painting," Data finished.
Doctor Drummond detected his hesitation.
"Be honest," she pressed. "Please."
Data raised and lowered his eyebrows and studied the painting again.
"While the brush strokes and general style are certainly in line with the Impressionist style, the colour palette and use of natural light is rather bleak," Data commented. "While it appears to have been painted in the evening, the effects de soir are not present in the finished product."
Doctor Drummond's eyes lit up.
"You are a student?" she inquired.
"Not precisely," Data replied.
He explained that while he was an amateur student of the arts, he had no formal training. Data also shared that he had read a number of Doctor Drummond's works on the Impressionist movement and was a keen hobbyist.
The two spent some time chatting as Doctor Drummond gave him a tour of her establishment – including a series of original Impressionist pieces that she had collected over the years.
After a while, Data suddenly realised that Tasha was likely up and waiting for him to return.
"Forgive me, I came to purchase a set of pastels," Data said. "I am heading up to Brighton's Pond and will require additional supplies beyond what my companion packed."
"Of course!" Doctor Drummond said.
She clasped her hands together in excitement.
"I zink we are going to be good friends, no?" she said.
Twenty minutes later with his pastels, chamois, and clips in hand, Data set out for his next stop. The sun was up now, and he had no doubt Tasha was likely itching to get out the pond. He had just one last stop to make and then they would be set for the day.
Out of the corner of his eye, Data noticed someone bustling about inside a redbrick building that had served as Doctor Applewhite's office.
Data stopped.
He knew he shouldn't poke around.
He absolutely knew he shouldn't poke around.
But he wanted to.
Data trusted himself not to cross the line between polite inquiry and interference.
"Hello?" Data called out as he stepped inside.
There was a man hunched over a desk as he rummaged through the drawers.
He startled at the sound of Data's voice, slamming a door shut and clutching his chest.
The man turned around and caught his breath.
"I'm sorry. You startled me," he said.
Data immediately recognised him as one of the men that had been present the night before after responding to Oswalt's cries for help. His name was Jaspar Culpepper. Jaspar and his sister Livinia were two of the most prominent members of the community. Their family had been essential in establishing and preserving the historical village. Both Jaspar and Livinia served as members of the governing board – Livinia serving as board president.
"I did not mean to frighten you," Data said apologetically. "But may I ask what you are doing in Doctor Applewhite's office?"
Jaspar sat down on the surface of the desk. He sighed and looked around the room.
"Hard to believe he's gone," Jaspar said in a faraway voice.
Data noted that while this was a typical human response to loss, it was technically not an answer to his question.
"Doctor Applewhite was a crucial part of our operation here," Jaspar went on. "He was also a dear friend."
Jaspar shook his head.
"Part of my job is to clean out his office now that he's gone," Jaspar explained. "His family is coming in a few days to help."
Data's brow wrinkled and Jaspar picked up on Data's suspicion.
"His wife's birthday is next month. He got her this pair of antique opera glasses that he intended to gift her, but never got wrapped," Jaspar explained. "I'd like to be sure they're wrapped and ready to go for her. One last gift from him."
"Ah," Data nodded in understanding. "That is thoughtful."
Jaspar glanced around the room again.
"I just want to be sure to find them before she gets here," he said. "Did you get the chance to meet him?"
"No," Data said. "Unfortunately, he passed before I had the opportunity."
"Shame," Jaspar remarked. "He was a brilliant archaeologist."
"Then your community has suffered a great loss," Data replied.
A moment of silence fell on the pair as Data studied the office. There were maps and charts laid out on the tables. The walls were lined with books, pottery, and numerous antique tools.
Data noticed one of the maps that was spread out appeared to be of the area in and around the Demon's Pot cave that he and Tasha were hoping to explore later.
There were a number of areas marked and several curious notes. In the margin someone, presumably Doctor Applewhite, had written the word "scheduled - DHEC" in big, bold letters. Below that, he had jotted down a date that appeared to be tomorrow's date.
"Was there anything else I could help you with?" Jaspar asked. "Otherwise, I'd like to get on with this."
"Of course," Data said. "My condolences on the loss of your friend."
With Oswalt's help, Data was able to borrow a sack of caving equipment from the parish hall. With his gear in tow, Data returned to the farm to find Tasha was up and dressed with her tackle ready to go.
"You are not upset?" Data inquired.
He had been gone for nearly three hours. It had not been his intention to stay in the village that long, but one thing had led to another.
"Upset because you're enjoying yourself?" she said as she flashed him a warm smile.
She threw her satchel over her shoulder and grabbed a basket that she packed with a spread for a picnic.
"C'mon," she said as she looped her arm through Data's and guided him out of the kitchen.
As they readied Clopper, Data shared the details of his encounter with Doctor Drummond and that he'd like to return before the end of their trip. Doctor Drummond was interested in seeing some of his work. For his part, Data was eager to get the feedback of such a talented professional.
Once they had finished securing their haul, they set out for a day at the pond.
On their way to the pond, they passed through a field of sheep. Data was fascinated by the creatures. He identified the specific breed as Swaledale sheep due to their thick, off-white wool and the white that dusted the tips of their snouts in contrast to the black of the rest of their face.
It looked almost as if they were wearing masks on their wee faces like little bandits.
They were notable for their ability to thrive in such a harsh, exposed landscape. Data recalled skimming through a book on local wildlife at the library. It seemed that in winter, the local farmers would often find themselves spending hours digging their flocks out of drifting snow.
Though beautiful, the landscape was bitter.
When they reached the pond, Tasha helped Data lay out a blanket. She headed off for the pond itself to check her trap and get in a bit of time with her rod and reel while Data was content to sit and sketch.
He carefully pulled out his sketchbook and pastel set and paused as he scanned the landscape.
For nearly three minutes he sat motionless.
It wasn't a lack of inspiration.
The only problem Data had was in choosing where to start.
The area around the pond offered so many possibilities that he was having a hard time choosing just what to begin with.
In the end, Data decided on sketching a larger landscape first. There were a handful of barren trees that dotted the shoreline of the pond. Data meticulously sketched the outline of them as they were reflected on the still surface of the water.
With inhuman speed and skill, Data put chalk to paper – capturing the tranquillity of the area as best he could. He was eager to complete a number of sketches, so he didn't waste time perfecting it. He could worry about filling in some of the more intricate details later.
As Tasha patiently waited on the surface of the water, Data worked his way through a number of sketches – a Kingfisher in one of the barren trees, a nearby limestone pavement, and a still-life of a fairy flax growing next to their blanket with its small white petals in contrast to the muted browning grass that surrounded it.
Around noon, Tasha came back up from the lake. The sun wasn't giving off more heat than the day before but it was still cooler on the water. To Data's surprise, she had her basket in tow.
"Did you catch anything?" he inquired.
Tasha nodded, utterly giddy.
She plopped down on her knees with the basket and grabbed a large bucket with some water that she had brought along. She opened the end of the basket. To Data's surprise not one, but two eels slipped out into the bottom.
They were relatively small – only about sixty centimetres.
Tasha wet two cloths. In one, she wrapped one of the eels up. She threw the other over the bucket and then balanced a long, flat board on top of it.
"I'll be right back," she assured Data.
Tasha carried the eel wrapped in the wet cloth back down to the pond and released it.
When she came back, Data was peeking under the cloth at the remaining eel.
"Careful, they're master escape artists," Tasha warned.
Data nodded and returned the board to the top of the bucket.
"You did not want both of them?" Data inquired.
"Only have a permit for one," she said as she held up one finger.
"I see!" Data said. "To ensure that the population is sustainably harvested."
Tasha nodded.
She flopped back on the blanket and tucked her arms behind her head.
"I don't care if it takes fifty years," Tasha said. "I want to come back here. And I want to be able to go fishing then too."
She rolled onto her side and looked at Data to respond.
"I would like that as well," Data replied.
Tasha beamed.
The weather was unusually warm for late autumn, and it felt good on her skin. Tasha closed her eyes and let her body soak in the rays of the sun. According to her research, days like this were unusual weather for this time of the year.
Tasha didn't want to waste it all with fishing – not when it felt too blissful to relax under the sun.
"Would you want to explore the cave a bit this afternoon?" Tasha asked.
"Yes," Data responded. "I am curious to get a better look at the fossilised corals and crinoids contained in the limestone."
Tasha had originally come back up from the pond for lunch. But she wasn't feeling terribly hungry at the moment.
"Would you like me to get lunch out?" Data asked.
"If you want it, go ahead," Tasha replied as she stared up at the clouds. "I'll eat something in a bit."
Outside of the holodeck, clouds were a rarity. Tasha had seen all sorts of clouds on various planets – iridescent green clouds on Tucalian VI, grey and purple clouds that brought a beautiful, yet toxic rain, on a little planet called Ender's Point, and sandstone red clouds on Deneb IV.
Turkana had clouds too.
But they were mostly storm clouds in the rainy season or the persistent smog that lingered around the few remaining cities as their industrial districts churned out thick, dark smoke. Factories in both Coalition and Alliance held cities produced munitions and armour. Factory workers shovelled coal and peat into large furnaces twenty-seven hours a day, stoking the fires of Turkana's long-standing civil war.
Here, with its blue skies and fluffy, white clouds, it was like being a world away.
Or several hundred. Tasha mused to herself.
Tasha reached for the basket. Her hand rummaged around until it closed on one of the sandwiches she'd wrapped in waxed paper.
"There's pickle and cheese, egg, or tomato," Tasha explained.
After demolishing a few pieces, she rolled on her back and closed her eyes.
"Is it your intention to take a nap?" Data asked. "Would you like me to wake you at a certain time?"
"No, I'm just resting my eyes for a minute," Tasha replied.
While Tasha was content to lounge on the blanket, Data finished his sketch of the fairy flax. He'd have to come back later and touch it up. But for the time being, it was acceptable.
Data glanced around as he tried to select his next target.
Tasha sighed and rolled toward him, using her arm as a pillow.
Data cocked his head to the side as he weighed his decision.
She had always expressed that she wasn't comfortable with him painting her portrait. However, this technically wasn't painting. And he would never show it to anyone else.
After careful consideration, Data set to work. His charcoal danced across the sketchpad in one slick motion as he sketched the line of her figure. Next, he carefully drew the curve of her face. He used his finger to smudge the shadows where the cloth on her trousers and waistcoat was wrinkled from her current angle.
But instead of the sketch reflecting her current closed eyes and face of rest, Data decided to take some artistic license and draw her smiling instead. He had long wanted to capture her smile, the very essence of her energy, on canvas.
Data thought it sparkled.
And while he still didn't know where his emotional responses were coming from or how they originated, Data knew that her smile made him feel loved.
Unlike his other sketches, Data took his time with this. He knew that it would be his only opportunity to work on such a piece.
It stung to know he would need to tuck it away somewhere private.
"What are you working on now?" Tasha asked.
Data froze.
Fortunately, she did not open her eyes.
"A sketch of a lifeform on the landscape," Data replied.
It wasn't a lie. Regardless, Data still didn't feel great about withholding information.
"Can I see it?" Tasha asked.
She still hadn't moved or opened her eyes.
"Of course, I was just about to take a break," Data replied.
"Oh! What do you want?" Tasha said as she sat up and began rifling through their supplies.
Data used the moment to quickly flip back to one of his earlier sketches of the kingfisher.
"Data?" Tasha pressed.
"Tomato," he replied quickly.
"Here," Tasha said as she handed it to him. "I packed some pears too if you'd like?"
Data shook his head.
Tasha grabbed a pear for herself and then snuggled in next to him to look at the sketch.
"Wow," she said, breathless.
His sketch of the kingfisher showed it perched on one of the barren branches. The brilliant blue of its feathers stood in stark contrast to the bleak autumnal palette of the rest of the landscape.
"That blue," Tasha said as she took a bite out of the pear. "She's beautiful."
"Yes. She is," Data replied.
Tasha narrowed her eyes. Data was staring at her strangely.
"What?" she asked.
Data didn't respond verbally. He threw his arm around her and pressed a slow kiss to the top of her head.
They spent nearly two hours exploring the cave. Lantern in hand, they had walked through the main branch toward the large, central cavern.
There was a beautiful underground waterfall that was fed from a nearby stream. It roared, echoing through the various caverns and tunnels that jutted off in different directions.
Data lamented not bringing his sketchbook into the cave as he would have liked to capture the image. Instead, he studied it carefully. While he had perfect memory, there was something missing whenever he painted or drew without the subject present – almost like a missing element.
As they continued, Data was reminded of Doctor Applewhite's death.
In fact, he was having a hard time not thinking about it.
His neural net calculated that there were over three trillion possible combinations for the letter 'DHEC.' With all of the various languages spoken amongst the Federation, it was impossible to narrow down the list without more information.
Regrettably, the cave had provided no more answers.
Data was certain that the man he had seen heading from the cave the day before had been Doctor Applewhite.
Was it possible there was a clue hidden here?
Data postulated that Doctor Applewhite may have placed something in the cave that he did not want anyone to find. It was equally as possible that Doctor Applewhite had discovered something in the cave that someone else didn't want anyone to find.
At the same time, Data couldn't rule out the theory that Doctor Applewhite's death had nothing to do with the cave or his work for that matter.
But there was an inkling that stuck with Data – what Geordi called his 'gut' – that left Data convinced that Doctor Applewhite's trip to the cave had some relationship to his untimely demise.
They hadn't brought a lot of oil for the lamp, and they were starting to run low. Tasha also wanted to try her hand at catching some trout again before heading back to the farm. It was mid afternoon and they still had to clean and return their borrowed gear to town.
"Do you want to come back on the last day?" Tasha asked.
"Perhaps," Data replied.
He knew that she had a surprise planned for them tomorrow – one that she had kept a tight lip about.
Data and Tasha took their time strolling back to town. She'd caught two trout and had them strung up and slung over her shoulder.
"You're going to love it," she assured Data.
It was nearly 16:00 hours and Tasha knew it would take some time to prepare dinner. Data was going to see to returning their gear whilst Tasha stopped at the general store to pick up some supplies.
They were about halfway to town when they ran into Jaspar Culpepper and a woman who introduced herself as his sister, Livinia. The siblings were accompanied by a third party – a Bolian woman. They were riding in a fashionable open carriage pulled by a large bay-coloured shire horse.
"Good afternoon," Jaspar said with a tip of his hat.
"Good afternoon," Data replied. "Are you Doctor Applewhite's wife?"
The Bolian woman looked confused.
"This is Utte," Jaspar explained.
Utte introduced herself as the Director of Travel and Tourism for the historical preserve.
"And these are the holidaymakers from Starfleet I was telling you about," Jaspar said as he pointed to Data and Tasha.
Utte's eyes lit up.
"I see," she said. "And neither of you are here as part of a research project or fellowship?"
"That is correct," Data answered.
Utte had a number of questions for the pair – how they had heard about the preserve, what amenities they'd like to see, if they were enjoying themselves, and so on.
"And how long are you staying?" Utte asked.
"Two more days," Tasha informed her. "We'd stay longer if we could but-"
She trailed off.
"Our duties require us to return to our starship," Data finished. "Although we will regret having to leave."
"And we will be seeing you back again?" Utte wondered aloud.
Data and Tasha looked at one another.
"We'd love to come back," Tasha explained.
Her shoulders slumped.
"Unfortunately, we seldom get to Earth," she went on. "And it's a rare treat that those trips to Earth involve leave."
Utte didn't look offended – merely saddened to learn they would not be returning.
She explained that it was so rare for them to receive guests to the preserve that weren't there as historians, archaeologists, or researchers. Utte informed them that the preserve was looking to make a number of improvements designed to increase tourism of the area.
"We certainly hope to see you back," Utte said.
"They'll be back," Livinia remarked. "The first of many tourists to come."
"Good haul from the pond?" Jaspar inquired, spying Tasha's catch.
"Yes," Tasha replied. "It's lovely there."
"We're just heading there now," Jaspar shared.
He indicated to the road ahead.
"Surveying land," Utte added. "For a new resort designed to offer the finest accommodations. It will offer all the modern amenities disguised as a Victorian resort on the outside."
According to Utte, the goal was to appeal to cavers, anglers, and all sorts of new tourists looking for a unique holiday getaway but unwilling to part with their modern amenities.
"And all within a stone's throw of Brighton Pond and the Demon's Pot," Livinia said with a smile.
The Culpepper's and their colleague bid them a pleasant afternoon and then continued on their way.
"That's a shame," Tasha remarked once they were out of earshot.
Data cocked his head to the side, perplexed.
"What is a shame?" he asked.
"Ruining a perfectly good pond with a hotel," Tasha clarified.
Once they reached the village, Data set out for the Postal Office. He would need to get the key to parish hall storage from Oswalt in order to return the gear.
The bell rang as Data stepped into the Postal Office. Oswalt was sorting letters in the boxes on the wall from a large sack of mail.
"How'd it go?" he asked as he stuffed a sack of letters into one of the boxes.
"It is a visually stunning cave system," Data replied.
"Henry!" Oswalt called out.
The young boy came springing down the stairs a moment later and flashed Data a big, toothy grin as soon as he spotted the android.
"Aye, pop?" Henry asked.
"Can you take Mr Data to the parish hall and help him put away the gear?" Oswalt asked.
"Yes, sir," Henry replied eagerly with a little salute.
Henry talked the entire way to the parish hall. It seemed that news of Doctor Applewhite's death was all that anyone in town could talk about.
And according to Henry, everyone had their own theories about what happened – including the children.
"Bertie thinks it's a werewolf, but it wasn't even a full moon," Henry explained as he tugged open the heavy oak doors to the parish hall building.
"That is highly unlikely," Data said, choosing his words carefully.
"Well I think he was leading a double life," Henry surmised aloud. "You know. Shady dealings and what not. Seedy business associates."
Data's ears perked up.
"Why do you believe that?" Data inquired.
Data knew that children often picked up on things that adults overlooked, and it was possible that Henry had seen or heard something that could provide a clue.
To Data's dismay, Henry shrugged casually.
"Dunno, I guess," Henry said.
They began to put away their caving gear. Henry hung up the rope as Data cleaned the lantern.
"Do you have any evidence to support such a hypothesis?" Data asked.
Henry shook his head.
"Nah, I suppose not," Henry admitted. "Just seems the type."
"What makes you say that?" Data pressed.
"He was so normal," Henry explained. "It's always the normal ones in the stories, you know? The ones you don't expect."
Data concluded that Henry's theory was likely not practical or based on any facts. Rather, it seemed to be the invention of an imaginative child.
"What do you think happened?" Henry asked. "I heard you were the one that said he got knocked off."
Data's eyebrows went up as he weighed the question.
"I do not know," Data answered honestly. "It would not be appropriate for me to investigate the matter."
Henry put his hands on his hips and frowned.
"We're not investigating," he protested. "We're just having a chinwag. Man to man."
"You are nine," Data commented.
"Nine and half," Henry corrected with an air of superiority that seemed far beyond his years.
Data hadn't meant to insult the boy. But he didn't want to speculate as to the details of Doctor Applewhite's death with an impressionable child.
"C'mon then," Henry pressed. "You have to have some theory. What do you think Sherlock Holmes would do?"
Data decided it couldn't hurt to indulge the boy a little.
"If I were Sherlock Holmes, I would start by finding out what Doctor Applewhite was doing in the cave yesterday before his death," Data answered.
Hours later, Data and Tasha were sitting across the table from one another. Data had been glad he'd chosen to try the eel. It had a clean, subtle flavour with a hint of sweetness.
Data could understand why Tasha had been keen to get her hands on one during their trip. It had been worth the hassle of making the eel buck and waiting.
And while Data wasn't ready to eschew replicators, he could understand why humans felt that real food was still a preferred treat.
Counsellor Troi often lamented that her replicated chocolate sundaes just weren't the same. Data was curious to try replicated eel upon their return to the Enterprise to compare. One disadvantage (or advantage, depending on how one viewed it) of replicators was that replicated foods did not include the same nutritional content as the foods on which they were based.
While things like proteins, dietary fats, sugars, and carbohydrates were naturally occurring and necessary for humanoid nutritional needs, the replicators produced them only in the levels necessary for a healthy diet.
Data knew that humans shouldn't consume high levels of fat. But as he chewed on the succulent, high-fat content eel, Data had a whole new appreciation for why Deanna preferred 'real' chocolate sundaes.
And it wasn't merely the savoury taste that left Data appreciative of this experience.
Tasha had shown him how to clean and prepare the eel. They'd salted and removed the slime before skinning it according to how she'd learned growing up.
Once that was taken care of, Tasha had shown him to clean and salt the trout. Tasha found two large field rocks and balanced an open-ended barrel on the top. She strung up the trout and then had placed a lid on the top end.
She had shown Data how to start a small fire outside of the barrel before lighting sawdust at the bottom of the makeshift floo.
They were smoking the trout. And according to Tasha, not only was this essential to extending the product's life without refrigeration – it also made it taste better.
Data was completely taken with the idea of food preparation and Tasha had promised they could do more before leaving and once they were back on the Enterprise.
"May we prepare the pie now?" Data asked eagerly.
"I thought you'd never ask," Tasha teased.
They cleared away the dishes and then cleaned the surface of the table. Tasha grabbed the basket of pears they had picked with the children.
"About this size," Tasha said as she held up a piece to show Data the proper size slices they would need.
Data nodded.
He grabbed one of the knives and gripped the edge of the pear on top of his cutting block. He made quick work of slicing through three-quarters of the fruit in less than a second before he abruptly stopped.
Data could tell from the piece she had displayed that she wanted them cut to precisely 4.2 millimetres.
However, Data's sensory input detectors in his hand could feel that the pear he held could not be evenly distributed into slices of 4.2 millimetres. There would be 1.81 millimetres left over.
Tasha could see he had paused.
"Everything alright?" she asked, looking up at him from across the table.
"It is not possible to cut these pieces of fruit into 4.2 millimetres pieces without having waste," Data replied. "What should I do with the remainder?"
Tasha kicked herself internally.
She realised she probably should have explained that the example she'd shown wasn't meant to be replicated precisely. Tasha knew that word choice was something she had to be careful about with Data – he would very well follow her instructions to the letter, even when she hadn't meant them to be taken that literally.
"I'm sorry," she confessed with a small laugh. "I didn't mean to imply that you needed to be so precise with the size. Just slice them around that size."
Data nodded and looked back down at the remaining piece of fruit in his hand. He calculated the remaining size and computed several possible options to slice the fruit.
Tasha could see him thinking carefully.
Data contemplated whether it would be better to cut the pieces slightly larger or smaller. He accessed his information database and scanned through thousands of available references on culinary arts, the water content of the fruit, and how it would interact with the other ingredients – most notably how the sugars would break down.
Were he to slice them too thin, they would break down and turn to mush. On the other hand, sliced too thick and the fruit would fail to achieve the proper texture necessary for such a culinary delight.
Data realised he had no frame of reference on which to base his decision. He had never consumed this kind of fruit pie before and wasn't sure which option would be preferable.
He opened his mouth and looked up to ask Tasha's opinion to find she was gone.
A second later, he froze as he felt her behind him.
Tasha put one hand on top of his over the knife and covered his other hand holding the remaining fruit.
"Some people claim that precision is the secret to good baking," Tasha said as she guided the knife to slice the pear.
Once it was sliced, Tasha slid it aside and reached for another piece. Data let her guide his hands as they cut the second pear.
"But I think it's more just a matter of heart," Tasha went on. "Especially when it's for someone. You know, making their day a little sweeter."
It was an odd experience for Data to perform a task with no precision. It reminded him of experimenting with music and art. The sensation was liberating.
Once they were done slicing, Tasha swept all of the pears into a large clay bowl and set them aside. Next, she grabbed the supplies she had picked up from the general store. Tasha unwrapped wax paper to reveal a small block of a white, creamy substance. It looked almost like ice cream, but the texture was slightly different.
She dropped it into the bowl and then retrieved a slab of butter from the ice box and cut off a bit, setting it on the cutting block. Tasha returned the remaining contents to the ice box and then turned back to Data.
"Can you please cut that into wee cubes?" Tasha asked.
As Data cut the butter into tiny cubes, Tasha fetched some flour from the sack in the pantry.
"Now, we're going to need to make this quick," Tasha prefaced. "Otherwise our hands will start to melt the butter and we don't want that."
They added the butter and Tasha tossed in a few cups of the flour.
"Now, we just need a pinch of salt," she informed him.
Tasha held out the salt dish for Data.
"Accessing, 'a pinch'," Data said aloud as he searched his memory banks for information on the unit of measurement known as 'a pinch.'
Tasha grinned.
She pinched her fingers in the salt and threw it into the dish.
"Ah, I see," Data remarked.
He was intrigued by the process. While it may have seemed normal for humans, to an android it was a nearly chaotic process given Tasha's seemingly careless regard for accuracy in measurement.
It was thrilling.
"We're going to cut the fat in with our hands," she explained. "Like this."
Tasha showed him how to work the ingredients together. After a few seconds, she pulled her hands back and looked up at Data. Wordlessly, she encouraged him to give it a try.
Data reached into the bowl and squeezed the fat and flour together, working rapidly to blend them into a crumbly mixture.
"Perfect," Tasha said.
She grabbed a tiny bit of cold water from her canteen and poured in just a bit.
"You do not measure it?" Data inquired.
Tasha shook her head.
"You want to add it just a bit at a time until it reaches the proper consistency," Tasha said.
Tasha couldn't help but grin as she watched him. She knew that Data could likely scan thousands of instructional documents on baking in a matter of seconds. His android precision and attention to detail would mean he could probably produce the universe's best pie in half the time.
But he wanted her to show him how she made it simply because it was her method, because it was something she was excited about.
Tasha didn't think she'd ever be able to wrap her around just why Data loved her – especially given that she lacked most of the standard experiences of their other human colleagues.
Tasha was suddenly struck by an idea.
Perhaps that was why they'd hit it off?
In the grand scheme of the universe, it hadn't been all that long ago when Tasha herself had been forced into the unknown – having to adapt to a new way of life and essentially 'unlearning' so many of the behaviours and survival instincts she had developed on Turkana.
She knew exactly how it felt not to understand the cultural references of her peers, to miss the joke entirely, and the awkwardness of taking unfamiliar idioms literally.
While that was certainly a part of what had drawn Data to Tasha, she really couldn't begin to comprehend just how impactful her companionship was.
Even before their friendship blossomed into a relationship, her constant, patient presence had so enriched his existence that Data considered her his closest friend next to Geordi.
She had noticed his subtle reactions and recognised that they weren't just programming. Tasha had always been there to explain the meaning of a phrase or the reaction of another person without judgement or mockery.
Tasha had never dismissed his requests to learn by telling him to 'access his memory banks' or 'you'll learn in good time.' While Data could certainly learn anything in that manner – better and faster than humans – there was a connection he felt when learning from another being whether it be music, engineering, or even food preparation.
From across the table, Data and Tasha met one another's eyes and smiled at each other.
Once their dough had reached the correct texture, Tasha demonstrated how to shape it into a ball. She covered the bowl and then set it in the icebox.
"We need to let it chill," she explained.
Tasha captured Data's hands with a wet rag and cleaned away the pastry dough and grease from the fat that was stuck to his fingers.
"Now then, time to see to these pears," she said.
Pulling their bowl of sliced fruit back front and centre, Tasha walked Data through the various spices they were going to add.
Having mixed the cinnamon, mace, sugar, and cardamom into the pie, Data could detect a distinct, pleasant scent as they blended together.
"Close your eyes and open your mouth," Tasha said.
Data did as instructed. Tasha popped one of the seasoned pieces of raw fruit on it.
"Hmm," Data said as he analysed the combination of spice and sweet as it mingled on his tongue.
"This is not an efficient method for preparing food," Data said before grinning and adding, "but it is pleasing."
"Now, try this one," Tasha said.
Data frowned.
"Tasha, this is the same-" Data began.
He stopped as she pressed her lips against his, enjoying the subtle taste of cinnamon and sugar that lingered on his lips.
She pulled away after a moment, backing toward the ice box as she maintained his gaze.
After fetching the chilled crust, Tasha showed him how to roll it out and press it into the appropriate shape for baking. Data took hold of the pears and scraped them into the crust.
"And now, we bake it and wait," Tasha said.
She picked it up off the table and opened the door to the oven.
Tasha paused.
She turned back to look at Data and bit her lip.
"I forgot to heat the oven," Tasha confessed, feeling utterly foolish.
Tasha shook her head, set the pie down on the table, and then threw a damp cloth over the top while they waited. She told Data that she'd get right on it and, once it was hot, it would only take another hour and half to bake and then cool to a warm temperature that she called 'primo' for consumption.
She broke down in a fit of laughter and dropped her forehead against Data's torso.
"I can't believe I forgot that part," Tasha giggled.
"Perhaps it is for the best," Data suggested.
Tasha didn't follow.
Data took hold of her hands and brought them to his lips.
"I think the idea of dessert in an hour and half sounds rather appealing," Data said.
Tasha's mouth formed a silent 'oh' as she caught his meaning.
Data set Tasha down on the surface of the table. She threw her jacket off into the corner of the room and her cap followed it in short order.
Tasha fumbled with the buttons on his waistcoat. The oven remained cold, Tasha having completely forgotten to light it as the pie sat entirely forgotten on the opposite end of the table.
Tasha was halfway through his seemingly endless series of buttons when she had to stop so Data could slip her suspenders down over her shoulders.
Frustrated with the buttons, Tasha took hold of his collar and pulled him down toward the table.
Her hands found the button of his trousers.
There was a loud, frantic pounding on the door.
Data and Tasha froze.
Whoever was trying to reach them seemed desperate.
Tasha scrambled to get up. In her haste, her knee collided with Data in what would have been a particularly sensitive region for anyone else. While this of course had no painful effect for Data, Tasha howled and clutched her kneecap.
Data glanced down. There had been an unpleasant pressure – but certainly no damage or pain.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.
"The door," Tasha replied as she furiously rubbed her knee in hopes of alleviating the pain.
Data nodded and raced over to the door.
"Sorry to bother you but-" Oswalt began to say as he took his cap off.
His voice was urgent, but he trailed off as he took in the sight of Data with his dishevelled hair and half his waistcoat undone and askew, clutching the front of his trousers to keep them up.
"I am terribly sorry to have disturbed you, sir," Oswalt said.
The Postmaster turned his head away to the side in effort to afford his guest some modesty.
"Henry, my son, is missing," Oswalt explained. "I thought he might have wandered out here seein' as how fond he is of you."
Oswalt cleared his throat uncomfortably, bouncing back and forth on his feet as he turned his cap over in his hands.
"Obviously he's not so I'll just move along," Oswalt said. "Again, I am so sorry for this."
"It is no bother," Data assured him. "We could help you search the-"
"OSWALT!" a voice called out from the road.
Oswalt turned to see a man on horseback riding toward the farm.
"They're all gone! The lot of them!" the man called out.
He slowed his horse but rode right up to them, stopping just shy of the door to the farm.
The man was the father of Bertie and George.
Apparently, all six of the village's young children were missing.
Worst of all, it was starting to get dark.
"We will help you search the area," Data said as he buttoned his trousers. "Have you established a search grid?"
"There's no time for that!" the man on horseback insisted.
"We don't want to bother you," Oswalt said.
"Nonsense," Tasha said as she pulled open the door and stepped outside.
She was immediately hit with a wave of unseasonably warm, muggy air. Tasha glanced off toward the horizon.
"There's a storm coming," she announced as she observed the rapidly approaching dark sky.
Oswalt nodded.
"Any idea where they might have been headed?" Tasha asked.
She straightened her collar and threw on her cap. The man on horseback shot Tasha a suspicious look.
"We are trained in search and rescue," Data said.
Oswalt nodded.
"We could use your help," he said.
The usually genial Oswalt's face was etched with worry. It was growing dark and there was a storm approaching. Forecasting technology expanded greatly under the Victorian era and Oswalt had received a telegram earlier advising that there was a storm system moving into the area.
And once the storm swept through, the temperature would drop.
The children could be stranded, lost, or turned around and heading the wrong direction. The storm would only make the situation worse.
"You can get lost out here for good if you're caught in a storm," Oswalt advised.
"I'm going to check Llewellyn's," the man on horseback said. "Edmund is riding south, and Jaspar has called a meeting at the parish hall to organise a search. Could you ride west?"
Oswalt looked back at Data and Tasha.
"Do you mind if I take Clopper?" Oswalt asked.
"He's your horse," Tasha reminded him.
While Oswalt went to the barn, Tasha and Data readied to head out for a search. They laced up their boots and grabbed the lantern. Tasha tossed a jar of oil into her satchel along with a handful of other supplies like rags for bandages, her canteen, and a few of the pears they hadn't used for the pie. She also grabbed a clean, dry cloth.
On the way out the door, Tasha snagged the trout that was smoking. It wasn't quite finished, but it was starting to dry out. Tasha figured that one way or another it was going to be ruined if the storm hit. And if they got stranded somewhere, they'd need something to eat.
"If they're scared, it might help to calm them down with a snack," Tasha advised.
"That is wise," Data replied.
Once ready, they stopped by the barn to grab one last supply – a length of rope. Rope had an infinite number of possible uses and if the storms were as bad as Oswalt claimed, they may need to tie themselves to one another in order to ensure none of the children wandered off.
A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky in the distance. It was followed by an ominous crack of thunder.
Data and Tasha started for town. If there was to be a meeting to organise a search, their skills may be required. They were walking quickly and heading straight for the storm.
Tasha could smell the rain already as it approached. Normally, she didn't mind storms on the holodeck. In fact, she had always enjoyed them on Turkana. Storms usually meant there was a break in the fighting. Clans didn't travel or raid during storms usually and it was a welcome reprieve.
"I wonder where they got off to," Tasha said.
"This preserve is quite large. Theoretically, they could be anywhere," Data replied. "The last time I saw Henry was when we were in town earlier. That was three hours ago. Based on the dimensions of the area and the average speed of a humanoid child, he could have travelled a total of-"
Data simultaneously stopped walking and talking.
"What is it?" Tasha asked.
"I believe I know where the children may have gone," Data said.
His eyes were flipping back and forth rapidly as he replayed his earlier encounter with Oswalt's son.
"Henry expressed an interest in Doctor Applewhite's death. He was eager to know what theory I had, if any," Data explained. "I told him that if I were to investigate this case, I would start by figuring out what Doctor Applewhite was doing in the cave the day of his murder."
Data and Tasha both glanced out toward the dying sunlight in the distance of the cave.
"We can save eight minutes if we cut across the field," Data advised.
Without another word, the pair took off in the encroaching darkness as they raced for the cave.
Data and Tasha were barely to the pond when rain began to barrel down. It was a downpour. By the time they reached the cave, they were completely drenched.
"Well, one way or another, I think we're stuck here until this blows over," Tasha said.
"I believe you are correct," Data replied.
"Let's hope it's not overnight," Tasha quipped.
Data pulled out the lantern and lit the wick.
Light in hand, they set off toward the main cavern.
The entrance led to a large, central cavern. That main cavern branched out into several other directions, spawning a cave system that ran nearly 38 km in various directions.
They reached the main cavern and there was still no sign of the children.
That was a problem.
The main cavern branched in multiple different directions. Data and Tasha hadn't explored far into any of the other branches, and they had no way of knowing which one the children had gone down – let alone if they had even come to the cave to begin with.
"Maybe we should split up," Tasha advised as she looked between two of the larger branches.
"I do not believe that is wise," Data cautioned. "My research indicates that some of these branches are prone to flooding."
"Henry?" Tasha called out.
The roaring sound of the underground waterfall drowned out the sound of her voice.
"It's no use," Tasha grumbled. "We need to find them."
Data was listening intently, straining his audio receptors for any indication of the children. He walked a few metres into each of the various branches as he tried to filter out the sound of the waterfall.
He was about to turn back and move on to the next branch when the sound of rocks falling on one another caught his eye.
"Over here!" Data shouted.
"Shhh! Somebody's coming," Frankie whispered.
"Put the light out!" Henry urged.
Rupert fumbled with the lantern.
"Hurry up!" Lucy cried.
"I don't wanna be in the dark," George began to sniffle.
"I'm right here," Bertie assured his younger brother.
A second later, the lantern went dark.
Two metres away, Data and Tasha exchanged a glance.
These kids were spunky, but they left a lot to be desired when it came to sneaking around.
"Hello?" Tasha called out.
"It is alright. It is us," Data added. "Data and Tasha."
A moment later, Henry popped up from behind a rock formation.
"Oh! It's you!" Henry said.
"We thought you were a ghost!" Lucy added.
"Or a werewolf," Bertie said, chiming in.
"Or Doctor Applewhite's killer," Henry explained.
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed.
"Maybe they did kill Doctor Applewhite," Henry theorised aloud. "Think about it. Doctor Applewhite died after they showed up."
Rupert set down the lantern. He frowned and crossed his arms.
"Why would they kill Doctor Applewhite?" Rupert asked. "They would have no reason to."
He wasn't buying Henry's half-cocked theory for a second.
"Look, your parents are very worried about you," Tasha informed them.
Rupert began to walk over, but Frankie put out her hand to stop him.
"What if Henry's right?" she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
While Data admired their natural scepticism, he was concerned that this particular branch of the cave was prone to flooding. With the downpour coming in, it wasn't a matter of if but rather a matter of when. They needed to get back to the higher ground of the main cavern before that happened.
"We did not kill Doctor Applewhite," Data tried to assure them.
"That's just what the killers would say," Bertie countered.
Data was not sure what to say. It seemed that a verbal assurance was insufficient to gain their trust. While he and Tasha could physically force the children to comply, neither of them desired such a hawkish approach.
"We must seek higher ground," Data said in an attempt to sway them to safety.
"We're not budging," Henry said definitely. "We've caught you."
The entire situation would be comical were they not at risk of being drowned.
Tasha decided to try a different approach.
"Fine. Stay over there," she said dismissively.
Tasha plopped down on a nearby rock and pulled one of the pears out of her satchel. She fetched her switchblade out of her shirt pocket and flipped it open.
"Whoa," Frankie said in awe.
Tasha slowly sliced a piece of the fruit.
"More for me. I'm going to eat this nice, juicy pear all by myself," Tasha said, drawing out each word.
She popped a piece in her mouth.
"Mmm," she said dramatically, attempting to exploit their likely hungry bellies into cooperating.
It didn't take long.
Georgie, the youngest, was the first to rush out. He raced over to Tasha and buried his head against her shyly. After a few seconds, he looked up.
"May I have some?" he asked. "Please?"
"Absolutely," Tasha replied.
She reached into her bag and retrieved another pear.
"Do you want to eat it like that, or do you want me to cut it up for you into wee pieces?" Tasha inquired.
"I'm OK!" Georgie answered through a mouthful of fruit.
Tasha reached into her satchel and pulled out the cloth that she had wrapped the smoked trout in.
"I've got fish too," she said, tempting them.
"She's bribing us with food," Rupert said.
"It's working," Frankie replied.
It didn't take long to win over the rest of the children.
They made it back to the safety of the main cavern with no incidents as the hungry kids dove into the fruit. Tasha had strategically packed more than enough to ensure everyone would get fed. After all, she knew first-hand how frightening it was to be alone and hungry as a child in a dark cave.
"So you guys didn't really kill Doctor Applewhite?" Henry asked as he wiped the juice from his mouth.
"No," Data replied seriously.
"Of course they didn't," Rupert said. "They're in Starfleet."
"I just meant they'd have probably offed us too by now if they had," Henry remarked casually.
"Unless they're werewolves and they wanted to fatten us up first," Bertie suggested.
George stopped eating and looked up at Tasha slowly, eyes wide with fear.
"Oh, it's alright," Tasha said as she brushed his bangs back. "You're safe, sweetie."
"Why can't we make a fire?" Lucy asked. "I'm cold."
Tasha and Data both understood why they couldn't make a fire – not only were they limited on fuel for the lantern, but they had also brought nothing to burn. Furthermore, it was so damp it was unlikely that they could even get a fire going - let alone keep one lit.
"We will head back as soon as it is safe," Data promised.
The temperature was dropping – they could all feel it. Data was hesitant to manually override his coolant system. He didn't think he could provide enough heat for seven people long enough to make any sort of meaningful difference.
At least, not without causing harm to his internal processing system.
"Until then, we're going to play a game called Sprats In A Net," Tasha said.
It was a common game for children on Turkana.
Well, 'game' wasn't necessarily an apt description.
Like most Turkanan children's 'games' it was a survival task presented as a game.
"Alright, pile in," she explained. "And we all have to stay like this and behave for as long as we can."
She was hoping that the kids would fall asleep and that their body heat would be enough to keep each other warm.
"This is just Sardines!" Lucy cried.
"Shove up. I want to be next to Data," Henry said.
"But I was here first!" Bertie protested.
"How about I sit in the middle of you two?" Data offered.
Bertie and Henry scowled at one another from opposite sides of Data.
After pushing, poking, prodding, and more than a few whines, it seemed that both tempers and the children had finally settled.
Tasha froze as she felt George blow his nose on her waistcoat.
"All set?" Tasha asked as she glanced down at Georgie.
He nodded and then resumed wiping snot all over her soaked waistcoat. She was about to ask him to stop when he looked up again and she realised he was crying.
Tasha said nothing, simply rubbing his back as he cried it out. She knew it was scary. At the very least, she could provide him with a shoulder – or in this case hip – to cry on.
"Can we have a story?" Frankie asked.
A murmur of excitement worked its way down the pile of kids.
"That is a good idea," Data said. "Once upon a time there were four little rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter. They lived with their mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of-"
"Oi, that's Peter Rabbit," Henry said in an irritated voice. "We're not babies."
He seemed offended by the very idea that Data had started to tell them a children's story.
"I bet you have lots of brilliant stories from your adventures in Starfleet," Rupert prompted.
"Tell us one of those stories!" Bertie pushed.
"With a superhuman android detective?" Rupert asked.
"And lots of phaser fights," Henry added eagerly.
"And a princess!" Lucy begged.
"A warrior princess," Frankie suggested.
"And a puppy that likes to eat so he eats all their food and then they have no food, so they have to make more but then he eats that too and because he ate too much he has to go outside and he shoots lasers out his bum," Georgie said in one, breathless ramble.
Data paused. His brow wrinkled as he processed Georgie's request.
"Please Mr Tasha," Georgie asked with a sniffle, his wee face poking out from behind Tasha and pleading to Data with his eyes.
Data cleared his throat.
"Once upon a time, there was a big ship called the Enterprise. And on that ship lived an android detective," Data began. "One day, he was travelling to a planet when the Captain of the ship spied a mysterious looking cloud and decided to investigate. But what he didn't know was that the cloud was really a special kind of alien."
A series of 'ooos' and 'ahs' went around the room as the kids listened to Data describe the strange energy being, the unusual effect it had on the ship's systems, and the detective's efforts to try and suss it all out.
"The energy being was trying to take over the Captain," Data went on. "But the Captain was guarded by a warrior princess who was sworn to protect him."
"Did she have a phaser to blast it with?" Bertie asked.
"The warrior princess did not use a phaser," Data went on. "Like the detective, the greatest weapon in her arsenal was her brain."
"Oh," Frankie grumbled.
Data could sense they were disappointed with this turn.
"But she did fight the energy being," Data added. "She struggled with it to save the Captain."
The children responded with excited whispers.
As Data continued on with the story, the children were beginning to yawn and nod off.
"Caramel corn and Breltrusian ale," Commander Riker said as he set down a bowl and pitcher on the table in his hotel room.
He returned a moment later with another bottle and a tray of snacks.
"And of course we have a variety of fruits and cheeses, salami from Reglian II, and, for you Deanna, real Belgian chocolate," Riker added.
In light of awful weather, Will Riker's fishing plans had been scrapped. Geordi's holiday to Greece had been cut short when his Father's schedule had changed. And Deanna had checked out of her spa early after her mother had checked in.
A moment later, there was a knock on the door.
"Hope we're not late," Beverly called out as she stepped inside.
Wesley was right behind her with a bag of goodies from his tour of the Academy.
Seeing as they were all alone, Will Riker had decided to invite them all over for a casual card game.
"What do you think everyone's up to right now?" Will said as he dealt the cards.
Beverly poured the drinks and Geordi dished up the popcorn.
"I spoke with Captain Picard this morning," Beverly explained. "He's enjoying his trip. He's had a lot of time to ride and read."
"Good for him," Deanna said with a smile.
It was a rare treat for the Captain to get any time to himself.
"Well that sounds better than Miles and Keiko's trip," Geordi said.
He'd chatted with Miles just a few hours earlier. They were splitting their time between Finglas, Ireland and Kumamoto, Japan in an effort to announce their engagement in-person to both their families.
"They made it to Finglas alright," Geordi explained. "But their luggage got beamed to a lunar transport ship."
"Ouch," Riker replied.
"Worf seems to be enjoying himself," Deanna offered. "I think it's good he's spending some time back home."
Commander Riker offered the deck to Wesley to cut.
"Anyone heard from Data and T?" Will asked.
Beverly and Deanna both shook their heads.
"Not a peep," Geordi said.
The team still had no inkling of where the couple had jetted off to for leave.
"They were already gone early the first morning," Geordi went on. "I can't imagine what they're up to."
"I'll bet they're relaxing in some private mountain chateau jacuzzi sipping champagne," Will Riker surmised. "Tucked away all cosy and romantic."
"I think they went somewhere fun," Wesley suggested.
"You don't think a jacuzzi and champagne is fun?" Riker teased.
"No," Wesley answered honestly.
"Not yet, anyways," Riker winked.
He shot a knowing look over to Deanna and wiggled his eyebrows.
Deanna grinned and rolled her eyes.
"I mean like mountain climbing, or backpacking," Wesley explained. "You know, the kind of thing they like to do on the holodeck."
Beverly rested her head on her hand as she stared off at the wall, lost in a memory.
"I'll bet there on some white sand beach somewhere. Little frozen drinks," Beverly said with a wistful gleam in her eye. "Miles of crystal blue water and endless starry skies."
"Soaking in the sun," Geordi sighed.
"It is still raining," Data commented as he looked upward.
The cavern was open to the sky above. Even at that great distance, Data could see the storm was still raging.
"Hey," Henry said as he tugged at Data's waistcoat. "What about the story?"
Data had thought all of the children were asleep.
"Yeah," Frankie yawned. "Finish it."
"So the detective found out the Captain was in the computer. The energy being had transferred his brain back into the ship," Data went on. "The detective raced to the transporter pad to bring the Captain back before he was lost."
The kids were beginning to drift off. Wee George was already fast asleep and drooling all over the leg of Tasha's trousers.
"And so the Captain was safe," Data finished. "And they all lived happily ever after."
"So the detective and the warrior princess saved the day?" Henry mumbled.
Data and Tasha turned and smiled at one another.
She had picked up from the start that he was telling them a child-appropriate version of the time Captain Picard had nearly been lost to a strange energy entity.
It had been the earliest days of their relationship. While it had been less than a year earlier, it felt like a lifetime.
"Always," Data answered.
"And then what happened?" Rupert asked without opening his eyes.
"And then they went back to work," Data said simply, not understanding the question.
In Data's eyes, the story was finished.
"Did they fall in love?" Lucy questioned.
"Yes," Tasha finished.
"Like she kissed him?" Bertie grumbled. "Yuck."
"Gross," Henry added.
"I think it's sweet," Frankie commented.
"I think it is time for bed," Data said.
Ten minutes later, the children were fast asleep. The only sound was the roaring waterfall. Tasha's leg had fallen asleep, but she didn't have the heart to move the children. They were cold enough without her jostling them around.
"I'm sorry this probably isn't how you thought you'd be spending shore leave," Tasha whispered.
"I believe this is just who we are," Data replied.
Neither of them regretted it.
"Given who we are, I have come to accept that our lives will always be chaotic," Data remarked. "But like your baking, I believe that adds a distinct flavour."
Tasha grinned.
All of a sudden, her face blanched.
"The oven," she whispered, concerned.
"You did not light it," Data assured her. "We were otherwise occupied."
An uncertain look crossed Tasha's face.
"You're sure?" she pressed.
Data shot her a look that she had long ago learned was meant to reaffirm that he had perfect memory.
"The detective was snogging the warrior princess," Data teased.
Tasha sighed and rested her head back against the rocky cave wall. Her back was frozen, and she didn't even want to think about her feet sitting in wet socks and boots for so long.
"I should have brought more snacks," Tasha lamented.
Data was amused by this notion.
It was something she had often expressed frustration about whenever away missions went awry. Tasha often carried food with her. Even on short trips, she usually kept a protein bar or pouch with her hidden inside a pocket she'd sewn on the inside of her uniform.
Data surmised this was likely a survival instinct that had carried over from her time on Turkana.
"I might die down here," Tasha teased. "Wet. Cold. And no bloody snacks."
She turned and met Data's eyes.
"But I'm glad you're here," she confessed with a warm smile.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
As they gazed at one another, Data was overcome with a strange, yet warm feeling.
"No," he said as he studied her face.
"You're not happy you're here?" Tasha asked. "Stuck in a cave?"
"No. I mean you will not die here," Data replied.
Tasha chuckled softly.
"I know that," she said.
"You will die in my bed," Data said softly. "After a full life. Many, many, many years from now."
It was eerie the way he was staring at her.
Data wasn't sure what had prompted him to say such a thing. He could only describe it as a 'feeling.'
Tasha's throat grew tight. Her face flushed and she averted her eyes. She couldn't rationalise it, but she felt uncharacteristically bashful.
Tasha had never expected to make it off Turkana. In fact, there were a lot of scenarios she'd had never expected to walk out of – and an alarming number of those had been with Data at her side.
While Tasha may have shared in Worf's passion for a warrior lifestyle of discipline, she had no desire to share in his wish to die in action. And although she had an alarming passion for thrill seeking adventure hobbies, she didn't want to go out like that.
No, she rather liked the idea of passing peacefully in a warm, comfortable bed.
"This is going to sound strange," Tasha replied in a voice barely above a whisper. "I think that in the grand scheme of ways one can die in the universe, dying in your bed sounds quite lovely."
She flashed him a brilliant smile.