Chapter Ten

"Enter," Maddox called out at the sound of the door chime. He looked up from his desk expectantly as the door opened, then frowned. "Oscar... 57," he said, squinting at the number the android wore. "Why are you here? I didn't send for you."

"No, you did not," Data replied, surprised at how calm he felt. "However, you do not have any such authority over me."

Maddox had turned away, apparently uninterested in the answer to his own question, but after Data had spoken a few words, the human froze. He looked up slowly and wonderingly, wrestling with the difference between what he was hearing and what he was seeing. "Commander Data?" he finally said, standing and stepping around his desk. "My apologies, Captain Data. You know you don't have permission to be in this facility – obviously, or you wouldn't be flying under false colors. How did you even find out about this place?"

"I should think you would be aware by now that I can be a most resourceful individual."

Maddox moved closer, too close, narrowly inspecting Data's disguise, but the android stood still even though he felt the highly emotional impulse to step back. "That you are," the human said, and for an instant anger seemed to flicker in his eyes despite his light tone. "Though I suppose Norman helped you?"

The art of the bluff, Data thought. If he had learned anything from all those years of playing poker, now it was being put to the ultimate test. He tilted his head, feeling the Oscar faceplate register faint surprise. "Is Norman one of the androids here? If so, I am surprised that you would suspect any of them of acting contrary to their programming."

After a brief pause, Maddox seemed to accept this statement for the moment and took a step back. "Norman is... less predictable than the others. He's more like you."

"And because 'the others' are not like me, they do not deserve to live?"

"Here it comes," the human said, shaking his head. "Do you think I'm dismantling them for fun? Everything I'm doing here is part of the larger process of learning how these androids function. You did bother to find out the purpose of this facility, didn't you? This is important work. There's a war going on, in case you hadn't noticed."

Before Data could reply to this, however, Maddox again shook his head and raised a hand. "No, I shouldn't have said that. The value of life is a fundamental part of your programming, I know that. But after what happened with the Exocomps, of course you're concerned about what's happening here. How could you not be? Sit down," he invited, returning to his own chair as he gestured towards another. "We'll... overlook the fact that you're not cleared to know any of this. If anyone's discretion can be trusted, it's yours. Please, sit," he said again, seeing that Data had not moved. "Ask me whatever you like and I'll answer as best I can. Though it's going to be very odd for me, seeing that face and hearing your voice," he added with a smile.

Distinctly off-balance, Data sat. Now he realized that while he had been expecting something like Maddox's first reaction – defensiveness, even outright anger – this sudden turnaround to a calm, open invitation for them to discuss the situation was a surprise. Perhaps this was a good sign, but given the false camaraderie Maddox had previously shown Norman, that was difficult to believe. It was more likely that the human had done this expressly to confuse Data.

"According to my information," he began cautiously, "your intention is to use the androids as soldiers against the Dominion. Is this correct?"

"Quite correct," Maddox replied at once. "But as usual, the whole truth is more complicated than that." He paused unhappily, again studying Data. "I'd be very interested to learn the name of your source, but I don't imagine for a moment that you'd reveal it."

"Naturally not," Data replied, dryly, wondering if the human had truly hoped to learn anything with a direct question.

Maddox raised an eyebrow at this unexpected tone. "The emotion chip. I see." He did not pursue the subject, though Data already knew that Maddox disapproved of the entire idea. He regretted it now, but a few weeks after he had first installed the chip Data had told the Commander, primarily simply to report that it had not had any serious side-effects. Maddox had been convinced the chip would be the end of the android, and Data had at the time been pleased to be able to contradict him.

In any case, Maddox moved on smoothly enough. "The fact is, Data, very few people realize just how badly the war is going for the Federation. The Jem'Hadar are not only formidable, there is literally an endless supply of them. They mature in just a few days and are ready to fight. Without a similarly versatile and powerful force of our own, the Federation will not – cannot – survive!"

The news of the state of the war was hardly a surprise. Despite virtual news blackouts in many cases, anyone with access to official Federation reports could not fail to have some idea of how many ships and lives were being lost. What was a surprise was the way in which Maddox delivered the news. Having begun in a reasonable, persuasive tone, his voice had quickly become strident, even desperate, and only now did he seem to realize this himself.

"I understand your concern, believe me," he continued, again under control, leaning back in his chair. "Remember, you helped convert me. If anyone else ever questions your self-awareness, I'll be the first to defend you. But these androids... they're duotronic, nothing more. Whatever kinship you might feel with them is wishful thinking, really. They aren't sentient. They aren't capable of sentience. You know that, don't you? When you really stop to think about it, you realize they don't have that same – undefinable spark that you have. You know they'll never be like you."

The calm with which he spoke only made Data angrier, and it took some effort to keep his own voice even as he rose from his chair. "They will certainly never be like me if they are not allowed to grow and develop naturally. Their systems may most closely approximate duotronics, but they were designed by beings of which we know very little. Can you be certain of all their capabilities? The Federation has interfered with their culture for a century. We cannot know what they might have become if they had been left alone."

For a moment Data feared that he had revealed knowledge that he should not have possessed, but Maddox only stared at him in shock. "Are you using the Prime Directive to justify your own interference here? This isn't a culture or anything like it. It's a collection of tools. Very valuable tools, certainly, but no more than that. Of course I'm not happy knowing that many of them are likely to be destroyed, far from it. It's wasteful. But sacrificing them will save tens of thousands of living beings. You must see the logic in that. This is the only humane option we have."

"Do you believe the Jem'Hadar are sentient?" Data asked, crisply.

Caught off-guard, Maddox was speechless for a moment. "Yes, of course they are. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Why 'of course'? They are created in a lab just as I was, and just as the androids here are. If we are not automatically sentient, why is that the case with the Jem'Hadar?"

"They're grown in a lab, not built," Maddox shot back, exasperated. "They're organic."

"Artificial skin for medical purposes is also organic and grown in a laboratory. Is that, too, sentient?"

"You're being disingenuous, Captain," was Maddox's disdainful reply. "Artificial skin is neither intelligent nor self-aware, and you're grasping at straws."

"You sound very much as you did at my trial. Captain Picard asked you to prove that he was sentient and you dismissed his request, stating that it was obvious that he was. Perhaps that was true once, when humans still believed themselves alone in the universe. But we have found sentience where we would never have imagined finding it – in the silicon life-forms of Velara III, the Calamarain who exist as ionized gas, the rock-like Horta. Our definition of life has continuously evolved as we have encountered new species. Why should our definition of sentience not evolve as well? You stated earlier that I had converted you... but I do not believe you have learned anything at all."

It was difficult to say if anything else he'd said had reached Maddox, but this certainly did. He flinched at the accusation and shook his head sharply. "Whatever else I might be, I'm a scientist first, Data. I like to think I can adapt quickly to any new information."

"As do I. But preferring that to be true does not make it so."

Abruptly, Maddox stood and began to pace the room, while Data took the opportunity to calm himself. If he was to have any hope of convincing the human of anything, he felt that he must stay as calm as possible, but that was increasingly difficult. Maddox already seemed inclined to believe that Data's presence here was prompted solely by the emotion chip, and that would be far too easy an excuse, allowing the Commander to dismiss the entire incident as an unexpected side-effect.

After a few moments Maddox began to speak again. "Data, look." He sat down again, though seemed ready to leap back up at any moment. "Difficult decisions have had to be made. That's the nature of war. But good things have happened here, too. I've learned a great deal about how these androids work. I may even have learned things that may someday help me replicate your systems. Soong himself studied here for a time, did you know that? These androids probably helped influence your creation. And wouldn't you prefer not to be alone in the universe? I realize there's some... controversy about the idea, but wouldn't you rather have other beings like yourself?"

There was a pause before Data felt steady enough to speak. "You are very persuasive, Commander. First you very nearly convinced Starfleet to classify me as property. Then you persuaded me that you had learned some respect for cybernetic life-forms. Now you are attempting to convince me to look the other way while you do exactly what you were once prevented from doing: creating a race of cybernetic slaves. Let me assure you that nothing and no one will ever convince me to allow such a thing to happen while I have any hope of preventing it."

But Maddox only smiled and stood up again, no longer uneasy. "I would rather it hadn't come to this, Data, but I must remind you of the situation here. You keep referencing your trial, but this time, Starfleet has given me their full and complete approval." His smile faded, though there still seemed to be triumph in his voice. "You're wrong about one thing... I did learn to respect you. I had hoped to make you understand, to accept what I'm doing even if you don't agree. But you need to understand that not all cybernetic beings are created equal."

He paused almost theatrically before continuing. "If you leave now, we'll pretend this didn't happen. I won't report you as long as you promise to keep this installation a secret. Whether you believe it or not, I wouldn't like to see you court-martialed."

"There will be no court-martial. I am resigning my commission." Data felt a sharp pang as he spoke the words, though he knew that he had no alternative. Later he would probably mourn the loss, but at the moment he was not sure he had ever really been meant for Starfleet.

"I think you'll find a court-martial will take precedence over your resignation," Maddox replied, thinly. "Don't do this, Data. Just leave."

"What you are doing here is wrong, and I will stop you."

For the first time, the human's face seemed to show genuine emotion, sympathy in his eyes. "How could you possibly stop all this?" he asked, quietly.

Though he had no more idea of how to do that now than he'd had when he arrived, Data did not hesitate in his reply. "Remember, I am a very resourceful individual," he said, with absolute calm and conviction, and he had the satisfaction of seeing a flicker of fear on Maddox's face.

And the human seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "You need to think about this, Data. You're still looking at these androids as your kind. I thought you'd always aspired to be human."

This did make Data pause, though not in the way Maddox would have hoped. The android thought of all his friends aboard the Enterprise, so many of them human, so many of whom would have risked everything to help him just as Arzin had. Then he looked at the human who stood smug and confident before him.

"I do," he finally replied. "But not every human is a worthy role model."

Though his tone had been calm and even, this made Maddox truly angry for the first time. "Now you think you can judge what makes a good human being? You're determined to make me the villain of this situation, but you're not thinking clearly. Blaming me is the easy way out. I'm making the difficult decisions that no one else wants to make, but in the end I'm saving lives, possibly millions of lives. You seem to keep forgetting that. You insist these androids are sentient or could become so without any shred of proof, but we know that the people who are already fighting this war are self-aware. Why are you ignoring a certainty in favor of a possibility? What has that emotion chip done to your systems?

It was Data's turn to feel anger, and he had to force himself not to clench his fists. "Blaming the emotion chip is also the easy way out. If nothing else, it has at least helped me to see you more clearly."

"All right, if you're so convinced I'm an evil man doing evil things, you tell me: what's the right thing to do here? How would you fight this war without letting the Federation be destroyed?"

Data quickly settled on the simplest and most truthful reply. "I do not know. But I do know that fighting against oppression by oppressing others is wrong."

For a moment Maddox had seemed slightly calmer, but now that facade fell away. "I could have you arrested right now," he said, his voice quiet but still enraged.

"You could. However, you may wish to reconsider that course of action."

"And why would I do that?" the commander asked, instantly wary.

Data was almost equally wary, taking his first step into deeply unfamiliar territory. "Your work here has been kept classified for many reasons, has it not?"

"For security reasons, yes," Maddox shot back. "Obviously we didn't want any uninvited guests."

"But there was another, perhaps more pressing need for secrecy, was there not? That is, there were no doubt several individuals in particular whom you did not wish to have any knowledge of this research. Myself, for one."

Though still cautious, Maddox nodded smoothly. "Yes, and Captain Picard. He has more influence than one would expect based on his rank, and it's better for everyone to avoid his opposition. But of course no ship captains would be cleared to know of this facility in any case. You're committing treason just by standing here." He smiled thinly.

"That would need to be proven at trial. And I do not believe you would wish to have a trial."

The smile vanished. "Do you think I'm ashamed of what I'm doing here?"

"I do not know," Data replied, quietly, saddened by the thought that Maddox could actually be proud of his work. "But I do not believe that your actions would stand up well to public scrutiny."

"You're trying to blackmail me," Maddox said, rising from his chair. "What about your morality subroutine? You wouldn't be able to go through with it!"

He was obviously angry, certainly incredulous, but was he afraid? Something that Data did not quite dare call instinct told him that the human was indeed frightened. "In this situation there are no truly good courses of action," Data said. "But doing nothing is not an option."

"So you'll destroy your career and spend the rest of your life in prison? That could be a very long time, Data."

"Yes. But I am willing to take that risk. Are you?"

And clearly Maddox wasn't, for he did not reply immediately. "You're bluffing," he finally said. "You can't leave, and you couldn't have been able to tell anyone else. There's no communication in or out of here that I don't know about."

Data tilted his head. "You were unaware of my presence here until I approached you, commander. Do you truly believe that I would not be able to find a way to send a message?"

Again the human hesitated, then seemed to reach a decision. "Who's helping you? Someone from the Enterprise? I'll find your accomplice and have them court-martialed along with you. Or dismantled, as appropriate."

The court-martial was as empty a threat now as it had been against Data – even if a trial occurred, his friends from the Enterprise could all presumably prove themselves to be far away from here at this moment – but the danger to Norman was all too real. But this was not the time to back down, and Data kept his voice calm and steady. "Does this mean that you are calling my bluff?"

The silence dragged on for several moments, long enough for Data to feel a surge of hope. When Maddox spoke, it was in a very different tone. "Look, Data, there's no reason for either of us to do anything drastic. I was angry, or I never would have threatened you or your friends. You are trying to do the right thing, I'm sure."

Now hope faded somewhat; trying to placate the android was not the same thing as agreement, and it was possible that Maddox still believed he could fool Data. "Will you discontinue your experiments here?"

"That's out of my hands," Maddox replied, shaking his head regretfully. "The work here will continue with or without me. But I can make sure that things are handled more humanely. I'm not ashamed of what I do here, but as I said earlier I'm not always happy about it, either. I'll work harder to make sure the androids are treated well. And... I'm sorry. I should have realized how much this would mean to you, and I shouldn't have let the situation get as... complicated as it did."

Now it was Data's turn to hesitate, trying to gauge the human's sincerity. His promise did not go far enough, but was it a genuine beginning or simply a ploy? No, he was lying, Data thought suddenly, startling himself with the sudden conviction. "I am sorry as well, commander," he replied, with genuine regret. "But I am afraid that I do not believe you."

For an instant Maddox seemed prepared to physically attack the android, though he quickly realized the futility of that. "Data, think! If you do this it will destroy us both! And it won't help these androids. You can't make them sentient. I wasn't lying when I said someone else would just take over. Starfleet sees the potential of these androids and they're committed to this project. Neither of us can stop it. But – let me get you assigned here. If I say we need your expertise then Starfleet will have no problem with it. You can make sure the androids are treated fairly yourself. This is the best way, trust me. We can do this."

Data stared with slowly growing horror, then slowly shook his head. "You believe that I would help you? How could you think that?" Only a short time ago he had told Norman and the others that he had some understanding of human behavior, and if he had been any less shocked now he might have laughed at his assumption. Shaking his head again, he looked at Maddox with pity. "It seems we have never understood each other at all, commander. That is... most unfortunate."

Maddox was desperate now, frantic in a way that Data would not have thought him capable of. "You can still stop this, it isn't too late! You have a command, you're a valuable officer. Come and work with me – or if you're really set against that, we can work something else out. How can you throw away all these possibilities for the sake of – of some glorified AIs? They aren't worth it!"

"No. Not to you," Data agreed, sadly, and turned to go.

Then a distinctive sound filled the air – that of a phaser being set to both wide beam and maximum strength. The android stopped and turned back to see Maddox, face contorted with anger, aiming the weapon at him. "You know I can't let you leave. Even you can't stand up to a phaser on maximum. Don't make me do this."

"I am not making you do anything," Data pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "If you destroy me, you will also destroy all your own hopes of replicating my systems."

Maddox hesitated, frowning in faint surprise, then laughed, a strained, unsettling sound. "You know, just at the moment, more than one Data doesn't seem like such a good idea to me."

As long as Maddox was talking, Data was fairly certain that the commander would not fire. Beyond that, however, he was now realizing that his still-limited experience of emotion could not prepare him for this, for feelings so intense they were a form of madness. Perhaps he should try to appeal to these emotions in some way – but how? That seemed an entirely human knack.

He started speaking before he had entirely analyzed the approach, yet he felt sure it was the correct one. "Is this how you would wish to be remembered, Commander Maddox? As the one who destroyed the only known functioning positronic net? That is not the work of a scientist."

Again the human paused, seeming calmer – or perhaps drained would be a more precise word. "I'm not a genius the way Dr. Soong was. I know that. And I have to make up for that by working ten times as hard. But one day I will create a stable positronic brain, Data, and I will do that with or without your help." He took fresh aim at the android, but still hesitated, and Data hastened to take advantage of that.

"That would be far easier with my help, would it not?" He hurried on as Maddox drew breath to argue. Once more Data's bluffing skill was about to be tested. "You believe that I would never assist you again after this incident. That is incorrect. I would be happy to work with you as long as -"

"Yes, as long as I'm safe and careful," Maddox replied mockingly. "But that isn't how science advances, and I don't have time to be careful. Not all of us live forever."

Once, Data would have replied with statistics, reciting the average human lifespan and calculating the odds that Maddox would have many decades in which to work. Now he understood how little numbers meant when one was faced with mortality. "There is no guarantee that even I will live forever," he began, carefully. "And scientific advancement is never predictable. Tomorrow or in ten years – none of us know when we will find answers. In many ways, it is the search that is most important. Even unexpected results -"

"Shut up!" The phaser was unsteady now, but Data was still unwilling to test Maddox's resolve just yet. "You can't lecture your way out of everything. That isn't how life works," he added, with a faint, faraway smile. The weapon pointed evenly once more, and he took a deep breath. "I am sorry, Data," he finally said.

But before he had finished speaking, an alarm sounded. "Warning," the computer reported. "Possible reactor core breach. Eight minutes to probable containment failure."

"Did you do this?" Maddox demanded.

"No," Data replied, and somewhat to his surprise Maddox did not press the question, though he still hesitated for a long moment.

"Then you're going to help me figure out what's going on," he said, motioning Data towards the door.