Part III

If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song. ~ Khalil Gibran

Chapter Fourteen

At first Maya seemed unaware of anything but her struggle for air, but a moment later she put her arms around Data, clinging tightly. Had Data been human, her new strength would likely have caused him serious injury. "You are all right," he whispered again. "It is all right, you do not need to breathe."

Yet she still struggled, growing more and more panicked, and Arzin finally intervened, moving closer and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Maya, listen. You can breathe. You can still breathe, it just – feels different, that's all. You're fine, just take even breaths."

At last her gasps began to ease and she loosened her grip on Data, though she kept hold of his arms as though needing to steady herself. And there was only confusion in her eyes as the fear faded, none of the recognition Data had hoped for. "You are all right," he said again, without much conviction.

Norman spoke up again. "The processing – reads as complete and her engrams were successfully transferred. But – her memories are still fragmented. The patterns have been disrupted." Even he caught Data's despair and added awkwardly, "I – am sorry."

Data cradled her hands between his, fighting to be calm for her sake. "I know this must be frightening," he said, soothingly. "But we will help you. Do – do you remember your name?"

After a pause, she shook her head, jerkily, her entire body gripped by a long shudder.

"Higher motor functions are unstable," Norman reported. "Automated repair systems appear to be resolving this issue, but the memories – may not be able to be saved. She must be monitored closely."

"Your name is Maya Palmer," Data told her, quietly, trying to distract her from the fear that crept back into her eyes at Norman's words. "Do you remember anything at all? The Enterprise?"

Her hands twitched in his and her mouth shaped the word no, though she made no sound. Then her head turned sharply, as though she'd been startled by a loud noise, and she slowly turned back to look at Data. "I... died," she finally managed in a shaken whisper, shuddering again.

"Yes," Data admitted, horrified at the possibility that her abrupt, terrible death might be all she remembered, possibly forever. "But I performed a synaptic scan, to preserve your consciousness. You are in an android body now, like mine."

Now the fear he saw was tempered by another look in her eyes, one Data knew well: the spark of fascination she had always shown when presented with an interesting problem. One trembling hand slipped from his and reached towards his face, not quite touching him. "Android," she repeated, testing the word. "I kn – know you," she added, somewhere between a question and a statement.

Despite her uncertainty, the words filled Data with a rush of hope that brought tears to his eyes. He had often observed that hope skewed perceptions, magnifying both the good and the bad. Hope, perhaps more than any other emotion except love itself, could be both wonderful and terrible, sometimes both at once, he decided. "Yes, you do know me," he assured her. Now her fingertips barely brushed his face, as ephemeral a touch as in his dream, and he had to pause for a moment. "My name is Data. I – I will try and help you remember."

"Data," she said, again seeming to study the word for familiarity, and he felt a sudden, odd shudder of his own at the sound that he had never again expected to hear.

"Automated repair systems – are fully active and attempting to rectify the damage," Norman reported, as impervious as ever to the nuances. "There – does not appear to be anything more to be done at this time." He stepped over and removed the cables from her neck.

Arzin had retreated a few steps once Maya was calmer and had spoken briefly to one of the Annabels. Now the Trill returned, smiling reassuringly at her. "I'm Arzin, Arzin Kural," he introduced himself. "You don't know me, but I'd like to help. Can you walk all right? I'm told there's a more comfortable place down the hall. You can talk there."

Though unsteady at first, Maya soon found a stiff but even pace, Data hovering anxiously while Arzin stayed a step or two behind. "Everything f-feels strange," she said, still plagued by unexpected movements.

"I imagine it does, yes. My senses function in different ways than a human's, and yours are very similar to mine. They are not what you are used to. I – I am sorry. It must be very unsettling."

She was silent for a moment, then smiled a brief, trembling smile. "At least I'm not d-dead anymore," she managed.

In that moment she was enough her old self that Data almost laughed. "I am very glad that you are not dead."

Reaching out a hand, she trailed it along the wall as they walked. "It feels like – like I have a g-glove on."

"It might easily seem that way, yes," Data said thoughtfully. "I can make no comparison myself. You are... in a unique position in that respect."

"I suppose I d-do remember some things – the light is different, too, I think. I can't quite... describe it... It's c-clearer. Brighter. Like a dream. Everything's l-like a dream."

The lounge area was not particularly comfortable by human standards – it held several benches and lamps built into the walls but no chairs or sofas, and had clearly been designed for comfort by someone who didn't truly understand the concept – but at least it did not have the feel of a laboratory. Familiarity would probably have been the best thing for her, but that would have required a trip to the engineering section of the Enterprise, Data thought with a faint smile. Or perhaps talking to Geordi might help, discussing old problems they had solved – but bringing Geordi into this was out of the question. If he was willing to plant bombs, Maddox would certainly not hesitate to attack Geordi and his career in order to strike back at Data. Bad enough that Arzin was there.

"None of this will seem familiar to you," Data explained, seeing Maya looking around the room. "None of us have been here until very recently."

"You s-said before... the Enterprise?"

"Yes. We served together there. Do you recall anything?"

She frowned uneasily and sat down on one of the benches. "It f-feels as though I dreamt about a ship c-called the Enterprise... a long time ago." Norman must have been correct in his assessment; the trembling and tics were slowing, though her memories were as fractured as ever.

"It was not a dream," Data assured her. "You served there for over a year, in engineering. With Geordi LaForge. The two of you were friends."

Arzin spoke up then. "Data, maybe you could tell her some stories – not just reciting facts, but stories about things you did together, that sort of thing. Partial amnesia can happen when the joining of a symbiont and a new host goes badly – that is, the memories are still there but they're difficult to access. That seems similar to what's happening here, and we've found that familiar places and people can help with recall. It's the one exception allowed to the usual rule against returning to old haunts," he added wryly. "It's worth a try."

"Yes, I will do that. Thank you, Arzin." He sat down next to her, still watching her carefully.

"I'm going to try and get some sleep now, if you don't mind. There hasn't been much chance for that lately. Hopefully these benches aren't quite as uncomfortable as they look." He smiled wryly and moved to a far corner of the room.

An awkward silence descended over the two androids for a moment. As much as Data had wanted the chance to talk to Maya alone, now he had no idea to begin or what stories to tell. This was hardly the time for him to declare his feelings – or perhaps it was. If anything might help her recall, wouldn't it be something like that, something powerful? Yet she was naturally still uneasy, and he was afraid of overwhelming her.

"I'm sorry I'm s-staring," she finally said. "I'm trying to remember, and it sounds like you're the only familiar face here. Not remembering is... unsettling. To say the least." One hand twitched again, briefly, but otherwise she seemed to be relaxing at last. Then she smiled, that quick, crooked, utterly familiar smile, and it took all his words away for a moment.

"I am sure it must be," he finally managed. "Though under normal circumstances, I have never forgotten anything."

"You're lucky," she said, then frowned thoughtfully. "Or maybe not." She tilted her head, another achingly familiar gesture. "So. Data. Tell me my life story, since you never forget."

"I have also never told anyone their life story before."

"That's all right. It isn't as though I have anything to compare it to." Again Data smiled, more genuinely this time, and she leaned forward. "You... I don't think I remember you smiling, do I?"

"No, you would not. I have an emotion chip now, which I did not have when – before the accident."

She leaned back, suddenly uncertain. "I suppose it seems like I'm starting to remember... but it's all just impressions, really. Fragments. I know somehow that we – we've sat and talked like this before, but I couldn't tell you anything about where or when, or what we talked about. So just... tell me everything."

Her speech was still a little hesitant at times, but she seemed steadier now, which had to be a good sign. If the matrix was stabilizing, that could help her memories as well, yet he was afraid to expect that. It seemed safer not to expect anything, either good or bad, but as it was he found himself veering between hope and despair over and over again.

"You were born on Delevan Colony," he began. "It was primarily your uncle who raised you. He was an engineer, like you."

"Multiphase autocontainment fields," Maya said automatically, then blinked in confusion.

Data nodded, trying not to seem too excited. "Yes, you wrote a very promising paper on that subject. You presented it at a conference on Minerva Station."

"I don't remember that," she said, slowly. "But when you said engineer, all the formulae just... popped into my head." She paused, still searching for memories that weren't there, then returned to an earlier topic. "If my uncle raised me, what happened to my parents?"

"Your mother was killed in an accident when you were seven years old. Your father – you once described him as 'not the most responsible of caregivers'. He left the colony less than a year after the death of your mother, placing you in the care of your uncle. His name is Carson. He taught you engineering, and you spoke of him often."

"Carson," she echoed, then shook her head. "Does he think I'm dead?"

Now they were veering into subjects Data was dreading, but they had to be faced. "Yes. Naturally he was extremely upset. He always felt that Starfleet was too dangerous." After the official notification, Data had contacted Carson, hoping to be of help, but the conversation had not gone well. In his grief, the human had vented all his anger against Data. Of course this had not affected him much at the time, but he had thought of it several times since then with unease. Carson had considered Maya to be his daughter, and had not seemed to appreciate hearing words of condolence from an android and a Starfleet officer, even one Maya had called a friend.

"Maybe I should talk to him. That might help me remember. Though – I don't want to upset him even more. Amnesia alone would be a bit of a shock, and... well, everything is awfully complicated right now. How long has it been?"

"Two years," he said, reluctantly.

"Two years? Why – Did my engrams degrade, is that what happened? Where were they – stored?" She stood abruptly, seeming unable to sit still.

"They were inside my positronic matrix. I had no other viable options available until now," he went on, hastily. "I cannot create a stable positronic matrix, and multitronic systems are generally too unpredictable."

Her arm twitched once and she stared at it for a moment. "Then wh-what am I?" she asked, sounding more lost than ever.

Worried, Data hastened to explain. "You are a Midian android." He gave a brief summary of the events that had brought him here and what had happened at the facility, including the power outage and Norman's vital role in her resurrection. "Like his, your systems can best be compared to multitronics, but of a much more stable pattern. Norman is many centuries old." He hesitated, then asked, "Are you all right?"

Her arm had continued to spasm now and then, and when she shrugged in reply to his question the motion was stiff and strange. "I d-don't know. Do I need to run a d-diagnostic?"

"Yes, perhaps you should." Now he stood as well and moved closer to her, studying her closely.

"I don't know how to do that without a tr-tricorder," she said, dark humor warring with anger. "How do you do that?"

"I cannot explain it," Data realized. "I simply – do it."

She paced away a few steps and abruptly sat down on another bench. "I need a t-technical manual for myself."

"It appears that psychological stress is exacerbating the problems with your higher motor functions." He was afraid to ask the next obvious question, but he had to know. "Are you angry with me?"

"I d-don't know," she said, shaking her head. "I don't really know anything anymore. Do I need to sleep? Do I still look the same, sound the same?" Absently reaching up to touch her face, she stared at Data, her gaze unreadable. "You know everything about me. You had my memories for two years. And I don't know anything about myself." Again she touched her face, laughing humorlessly. "I don't know if I can cry, but I think I feel like crying."

Unable to resist the urge any longer, Data sat next to her and put his arm around her. To his infinite relief, she did not pull away, even leaning a fraction closer to him. "I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you. But we will find the answers together. I will do everything I can to help you. So will Arzin. He has been the best of friends to me, and he will be to you, too. I will stay with you as long as you wish. And... you do look the same, and sound the same. Exactly the same." He reached up to touch her face, then stopped himself, again afraid of pushing her too far.

Steadier again, Maya looked at him silently for a long moment. "You love me," she said, for the first time seeming absolutely certain of her words.

"I did not know it until after you were gone." All his hesitation about this confession vanished, the words refusing to stop. "When I installed the emotion chip, one of the first things I realized was how much I wanted to see you again. At first, I was still not certain if I would truly be able to love... but I am. I do love you. That is the only thing I am sure of now."

Again she was silent for a time, then whispered, "And I loved you."

"Yes." Now he did rest his hand gently against her cheek, amazed at how deeply such a simple gesture could affect him.

Lightly touching the back of his hand, Maya closed her eyes as though willing herself to remember. Then she looked at him again, a glimmer of hope in her gaze. "Tell me about us," she said, resting her head against his shoulder. "Tell me a story."