A King of Infinite Space
Continuity Note: A remix of "Phantasms." This interlude takes place between chapter 21 ("Impact Winter") and the not-yet-posted chapter 22 of Crush III: Sostenuto.
Stardate 47221.17
22 March 2370, 17:32 hours, ship's time
U.S.S. Enterprise
"O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams." ~Hamlet, Act II, Scene II
Data does not, precisely, wake up, but he returns to his senses abruptly. A moment before he had been working at his console, waiting for an expected call from his fiancée confirming her travel dates, but when he checks the time against his memory record, he finds that there is a discrepancy: he has somehow lost zero point one seven seconds.
He is more puzzled than worried. Perhaps he is merely learning how to be less cognizant of time, as his human friends often are, but he initiates an internal diagnostic anyway. As Zoe would point out, "It cannot hurt."
He allows the diagnostic subroutine to run in the background, as the expected call comes through.
"I'm nervous," his partner reveals. "T'Jan will travel with me as far as Starbase Twelve, but then she's going on to Vulcan. There's a family emergency of some sort. She did say I could contact her if I needed her."
"I am certain that you will be alright," Data assures because he is certain. Zoe's month of intense therapy with the Vulcan healer has taught her enough mental control that she is no longer 'broadcasting' her emotions, and rarely overhearing other's thoughts. Even her healer has said that what the young woman needs most is to build confidence in the techniques she has acquired.
"Thank you."
She rattles off the details of her itinerary and they talk for seven point six three minutes longer before she signs off.
In the background his diagnostic subroutine completes and offers results: Time discrepancy noted; dream program engaged for duration of discrepancy; no faults found.
Data does not find that particularly encouraging.
Engineering is quiet when Data enters the space, both to check on the status of ship's systems – a plasma conduit is being refitted - and to seek out the chief engineer to mention his time glitch. A young lieutenant points him toward where Geordi is working, and he heads in that direction.
But something is... wrong (out of focus, off-kilter, the list of alternative phrases spins in his brain nearly automatically).
His vision is distorted, as if he has engaged a fisheye lens and there is a metallic clanging from the corner.
Data follows the sound, finding two men dressed in clothing from Earth's late nineteenth century and for a moment he wonders if Worf's Ancient West program has left hitherto undetected remnants in his programming, but then he realizes that these men are not from the program in question, nor indeed, from any program with which he is familiar. He opens his mouth to question their presence, but all that comes out is a high-pitched metallic whine.
They halt their work, and one of them orders him, in a tone full of malice, "Be quiet."
Perhaps, he thinks, as they begin to disassemble him, they are not holograms at all.
Data comes back to himself in his bed and tries to merge the events he has just experienced with the reality he knows: he fed Spot then went to bed and activated his dream program. This dream, however, was nothing like his previous ones. He believes it would more correctly be classified as a nightmare.
For a moment, he considers calling Zoe, for he can think of no better expert on what nightmares feel like than his fiancée, but after calculating the time difference between the current position of the Enterprise and the current position of the transport ship she is on, he realizes it would only disturb her sleep, and likely cause her dreams to turn dark in response.
Especially, Data realizes, since the image of his disassembly is one he knows to have haunted his lover's dreams, even before their relationship had become intimate.
Stardate 47225.70
24 March 2370, 09:07 hours, ship's time
U.S.S. Enterprise
"Of all the things you choose in life, you don't get to choose what your nightmares are. You don't pick them, they pick you." ~John Irving
Engineering, this time, looks the way it is meant to. There are no visual distortions; there are no men with pickaxes; and when he opens his mouth to speak, only his voice emanates therefrom.
"Geordi, have you ever had a nightmare?"
"Yeah, sure, Data," the affable engineer replies. "Everybody does from time to time."
Data refrains from pointing out the obvious, that in cases like this, he is 'not everybody,' and instead enumerates for his friend, "I have had one hundred eleven dreams since I first discovered this program nine months ago. In all that time, I have never experienced such strange and disturbing imagery. I believe it was a nightmare."
"Nightmares are part of dreaming, Data. Maybe you've just discovered a new level to your program."
"Perhaps," he agrees. "I have also noted that I am spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about nightmare imagery. One could almost say I am preoccupied."
Geordi assures him that such images are perfectly normal. He knows from his experience soothing Zoe when she has bad dreams that they are certainly common, but he is dubious that they are normal. In any case their discussion is derailed by the announcement by Lieutenant Tyler that she has completed her assigned task, and the subsequent revelation that the younger officer has a crush on his friend.
"It would appear that you require a third party to intervene on your behalf. I will be happy to speak to her," Data offers, but the engineer declines, turning the focus back to the android's dilemma.
"Have you considered talking to Zoe about this?" Geordi asks.
"I have considered it, and discarded the idea," Data answers. "She is in transit, and nervous about managing without her Vulcan healer with her once she is home. I do not wish to add to her distress."
"I wish I had better advice for you, my friend. Counselor Troi might be able to help."
"I will ask her, thank you."
The rest of their task – bringing the new warp core online – proceeds as anticipated, although the warp drive fails to function. Geordi identifies the problem – a misaligned plasma conduit – and Data informs the captain that he is taking the warp core back offline while they make adjustments.
If Data were human, he might be spooked by the way reality is apparently echoing his dream. As he is not, he merely notes his apparent prescience. Perhaps his program is evolving.
With his duties over for the day, Data returns to his quarters. It is not an opportune time for a subspace call to Zoe, but he has received an audio message from her, which he listens to while spending time playing with Spot.
"Hi, Data. Sorry for no video, but I'm recording from the bathtub. The jetted bathtub. Apparently being the fiancée of a decorated Starfleet officer gives you perks on civilian carriers, because even though this ship, the Shima-ran, is Centauri-registered there's no way I'm important enough on my own for the VIP cabin they upgraded me to. T'Jan's cabin is just as swanky - she's across the corridor - and there's a special dining room for our deck. I know you didn't arrange this, but thanks for being your awesome self."
Her bubbly tone darkens as her message continues. "You know I'm not with you just for the perks, right? Everything lately has been so much about me, and I don't want you to think I'm ever taking you for granted. I'm looking forward to being home. I know I still have a lot of work to do, mentally, emotionally, but I feel much more even-keeled when I can see you and talk to you and... touch you."
Data hears the soft sound of water moving around her body and then a splash – as if she dropped her hand into the water – and then her message resumes.
"T'Jan says I push myself too hard, and that I need to accept that - at least for now – I'm going to need more rest and more alone-time. I wonder if it's the same for all new telepaths or just weak-ass latent ones like me, but sometimes control is exhausting. There were days when I first started working with her where I'd go back to Mom and Ed's and just crash for hours, wake up, eat something, and go back to bed. So, I guess, I'm reminding you that I might need a lot more at-home time, and I may need you to help our friends understand that I'm not actually being anti-social. Anyway, I'm turning into a prune, and I can hear your voice in my head, 'No matter how long you remain submerged, dearest, you will not develop a tail or gills.' So, I'm signing off now. Cuddle Spot for me. Tell her the Long Haired One is returning soon. I love you."
Data has, he realizes, never heard Zoe imitate him before, and he is impressed by the accuracy of her inflection. Spot meows, and he looks down at her. "Are you through with playtime?" he asks, and while the cat cannot speak, she manages, in her own feline way, to inform him that she's done with toys and ready for dinner. He is no fool; he moves to comply with her wishes.
Later that evening, he catches the furry creature sleeping on Zoe's side of their bed, apparently dreaming, and he finds himself entranced. What could her dreams consist of? Why does she appear agitated?
The annunciator sounds, and he calls "Come," to whomever it might be.
"Hello, Data," Counselor Troi greets as she moves through the door.
"Counselor," he responds.
She asks what he is doing, and he explains about Spot. His response apparently leads her to her real reason for visiting. "I understand you've had some interesting dreams lately. Geordi was worried about you, and he wanted me to check in and see how you are doing."
"That was very thoughtful of him," Data says. "I have been debating whether or not to initiate another dream sequence."
"Because of the nightmares."
"I have found them to be quite unsettling," he says. He knows he could stop there, and the counselor would accept it, but he adds, "I have dreamed about being disassembled. I have not told Zoe because she is traveling, and I do not wish to distress her."
Counselor Troi sits down on the bed, reaches out to pet Spot, then pulls her hand back likely so she will not startle the sleeping animal. "Zoe is going through a lot, Data, and I understand your urge to protect her, but I think you should trust her to determine what she can or cannot handle."
"But I did not protect her!" The words come out with unexpected volume, and he observes the counselor flinching slightly. He repeats himself in a softer tone, "I did not protect her."
"Could not," the counselor corrects.
"I do not understand."
"If you'd had the choice, would you have prevented everything that Lore did to Zoe?"
"Of course."
"Didn't you try to protect her, as much as you were able?"
"Yes," he said. "But I was not successful."
"No one can be successful about everything all the time, Data. Even you. You weren't the person controlling events." She pauses, then changes tasks, asking, "What about your dreams has been unsettling?"
"I was being disassembled."
Troi laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's not a breach of confidence, because we've all discussed it together, but that sounds very like what Zoe was concerned about when your relationship was first forming. She was often worried that you would be 'taken apart.'"
"I am aware, Counselor. Do you believe my recent nightmares are a result of my concerns for Zoe now?
"Perhaps," she tells him. "Or perhaps you are processing everything you've been through in the last few months, as well. I know you dislike being separated from your partner."
"Separation is sub-optimal," he agrees.
"Data, you shouldn't be afraid of dark imagery in your dreams. It's a natural expression of your unconscious, if you have an unconscious. I'm not really sure how your positronic brain works, but if it's anything like ours, then there's a part of you that's trying to express yourself through your dream state. And I think you should allow yourself to experience it. As Sigmund Freud said, 'Dreams are the royal road to the knowledge of the mind.'"
He thanks her for the advice and bids her goodnight, then changes for bed, pausing, before extinguishing the lights, to say, "Goodnight, Spot."
Stardate 47231.66
26 March 2370, 13:11 hours, ship's time
U.S.S. Enterprise
"They've promised that dreams can come true - but forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams, too." ~Oscar Wilde
After roughly a day and a half, Data has moved from unsettling dreams involving only himself, to horrific waking dreams involving his crewmates – his friends. First, there was the cake – cellular peptides with mint frosting – that Worf was eating, the one that bore Counselor Troi's visage and screamed in her voice. Then there was the image of Doctor Crusher sipping from Commander Riker's temple with a straw. There is a ringing sound, and it turns out to be an antique telephone located in his abdomen, except that instead of his expected inner workings there is nothing. An empty box. The culmination was when he sliced his own piece of the Troi cake even as she was begging him not to harm her.
He asks Geordi to confirm that there is nothing wrong with him. This would be easier to accept as an anomaly or malfunction – but neither exist.
He still has not informed Zoe of what is going on.
He seeks advice – of a sort – from a hologram version of Sigmund Freud, who suggests that Data may have latent violent tendencies or difficulties expressing sexual desire. The first suggestion gives him pause.
"I killed my brother," he says, but of course, he has killed others as well. He has killed Borg drones, and he has been responsible for the deaths of others, when he has taken turns at tactical stations, or when he was in command of the Sutherland and gave the order to fire.
The second suggestion, Data dismisses. He has felt desire for Zoe and continues to experience it. He considers it his first 'real' emotion, as it did not come from Lore's manipulation of the data solid or the emotion chip.
Geordi creates an interface whereby he, the captain, and Commander Riker can observe his dream as he is experiencing it, and the imagery is chaotic at first: a telephone that rings from within him, Worf and his cake, the Doctor and her straw, and always that noise, that high pitched whine that is the only sound he can emit.
But not before he stabs Counselor in the shoulder.
There is no court martial, but he can sense his friends' and colleagues' concern for him. Some of the junior officers with whom he has not yet formed friendships are, he observes, afraid of him, looking away when he speaks, and spending as little time as possible in his proximity.
It is very distressing.
Together, Data and his colleagues determine that his dreams – his nightmares – do have a purpose. They are not his sub- or unconsciousness processing his fledgling emotions (at least, not primarily so), rather they are an expression of a very real danger that exists at the very fringes of his perception. Interphasic organisms, that his vocal processors were attempting to neutralize without his conscious knowledge.
He considers discussing this with the Freud program, but Counselor Troi has admonished him for his previous sessions with the digital doctor, and he is certain Zoe would also question that choice.
The Betazed woman is understanding and forgiving. She brings a cake to his quarters – one decorated to look like him - and they share a slice.
"I wonder," Data muses aloud, "what would Doctor Freud say about the symbolism of devouring oneself?"
In a moment of humor, Troi responds, "Data, sometimes a cake is just a cake."
Stardate 47243.24
30 March 2370, 18:51 hours, ship's time
U.S.S. Enterprise
Within a few days, it is, Data reflects, as if someone has pressed a virtual 'reset' button. His friends and colleagues remember only that he saved the ship, and not his other... troubles. And yet... he must still share these recent events with Zoe. He must still address the concern that he cannot protect her. He must-. His musing is interrupted by the comm-signal on his computer, and he goes to sit at his console.
"This is Data," he answers. "Go ahead."
"Surprise..." Zoe greets once the image on the screen resolves into her visage. "We got to Starbase Twelve early. I'm here already."
"We will arrive in approximately three point nine four hours," he responds matter-of-factly. "I am looking forward to having you home."
"Me, too," she answers. "See you soon." She blows him a kiss and ends the call.
"Your nightmares follow you like a shadow, forever." ~Aleksandar Hemon
Notes: Familiar dialogue stolen (and remixed) from the seventh-season episode "Phantasms." This is an AU, after all. Sorry for the super-long gap between posting anything... it's been a tumultuous couple of years, with some personal trauma, and oh, yeah, we moved to Florida and am a month away from moving into our new house. Look for a proper chapter soon. No, really.