Hi everyone! I hope you had a great Thanksgiving! My head's still a little fragile and I'm trying my best to avoid doing or eating anything that might trigger another migraine attack, but I've got my 'computer glasses' on, and I am feeling a lot better now. Thanks very much for your reviews and comments - they really are much more effective than pills! :) "Alternative Data" is next in line for an update. Hope you like this chapter!
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nat Kapoor waited in the shadows near the tunnel, watching Data's movements until the android Starfleet officer stood alone with his back to him, facing the gleaming wall panel. The moment he did, Nat slipped a holorecorder headset over his hair and began recording.
"What are you doing?" Freja asked him.
"Shh!" Nat hushed, and hit 'pause'. "No - wait, do me a favor. Go stand over there, next to the android."
"Why?" she asked, eyeing Data a little awkwardly. "I mean, what would I say?"
"Say anything, it doesn't matter. I just want to check something out."
"Those odd shadows still showing up on the recordings?"
Nat nodded.
"And, I'm starting to think it's more than just a trick of the light, if you catch my meaning," he said, giving her a significant look.
Freja's eyes widened.
"Then, you really think—"
"Not yet," he cut her off. "I still need to consult with Kurak - check all this against her findings. But, seriously, will you please go over there before he walks away? And, stay casual. I don't want these Starfleet tourists catching on. At least, not until we're on more solid ground with this."
Freja nodded and squeezed Nat's arm.
"I've got this," she said, and made her approach as Nat backed deeper into the shadows and continued his recording.
Data placed his palm against the opalescent panel that dominated the cavern wall, feeling the qualitative aspects of the metal's warmth, its polished, textured smoothness, even as his familiar, android sensors measured every quantitative dip and imperfection his fingers touched.
He watched his hand slide over the raised glyphs and symbols and his lips twitched slightly, his computer-perfect memory bringing him back to another artifact, another time…
Bozeman, Montana…April 4, 2063…
A temporal anomaly triggered by a Borg attack had drawn the Enterprise-E some three hundred and ten years into Earth's past, allowing Data, and his captain, to make physical contact with what was, perhaps, the most significant invention of the modern age: humankind's first successfully tested warp-capable vessel.
Dr. Zefram Cochrane and his team had - with a very self-aware sense of irony - constructed the poetically named Phoenix in a missile silo, having adapted a Titan II missile to launch it through Earth's atmosphere, into space. Data remembered Picard's expression as he stood before the towering ship on the eve of its historic flight…the reverent wonder that had lit his eyes… Then, on impulse, Picard had reached out a hand, pressed it to the Phoenix's rough, metal surface, and Data had not been able to understand why. Why was touching Cochrane's warp ship so important to him? The ship was so clearly, materially present – Data had felt no need to touch it to verify its reality.
But now…
Data drew in a slow breath and closed his eyes, leaning forward until his cheek rested against the wall panel. He felt the energy field as a buzzing tingle against his skin, humming between his teeth…energy generated from a source that had likely been put in place several thousand years before. In that moment, Data perceived himself outside of time, standing where the mysterious beings who had built these ruins once stood, touching what they had touched… and briefly, just briefly, he felt a connection…
He backed away, blinking in astonishment.
Was this powerful sensation a product of intuition? Imagination?
Did it matter?
"Having fun?"
Freja Anders's wry, lightly accented voice drew Data out of his thoughts, and he turned to face her.
"I just wanted to…touch…a piece of history," he said.
Freja regarded him, and he frowned at her look of incredulity.
"Do you think it strange for an android to seek to connect with the past? To wish to feel a part of the history and culture that fostered his own creation and development?"
Freja's pale forehead creased, and her stare grew more intense.
"Is that what you feel, standing here?" she asked.
Data inclined his head, just slightly, then clasped his hands behind his back, returning his gaze to the panel.
Freja moved a little closer.
"I'm curious," she said. "Do you believe that this panel…that, perhaps the Stairway itself…was placed here by the Preservers?"
"I would support your team's argument that similarities in form, format, organization, and style to artifacts previously attributed to the Preservers firmly suggest this panel can be fairly placed in that category," he said in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. "I am not yet as certain about the Stairway itself, or any nearby ruins."
"Then, you would support the theory that the Preservers are more than a myth?" Freja pressed.
Data slid his amber eyes to the side, then said, "I believe enough objective evidence has been found to indicate there was a group – or, perhaps, several groups – of beings who, at various points, have interjected a willful influence on developing civilizations in our galaxy. You are, perhaps, aware that I assisted Captain Picard in his mission to complete Professor Galen's research on that subject."
"Yes, we read the reports with great interest," Freja said. "Well, at least, what little information Starfleet saw fit to release. I understand you found an ancient message encoded in certain specific strands of DNA. DNA Professor Galen had been collecting from planets across the Alpha and Beta quadrants."
"That is correct," Data confirmed. "I, unfortunately, did not have the privilege of witnessing that message myself. But, I have viewed Dr. Crusher's recording of the event. I had not yet installed my emotion chip at that time, but I must admit, even then, I found it quite…moving."
Freja narrowed her eyes.
"But, you are an android," she said. "A machine. Why would a constructed being like you be moved to learn the peoples of our galaxy may share a common genetic inheritance?"
Data smiled very slightly.
"I may stand outside the gene pool, Dr. Anders," he said. "But, I understand kinship…and the desire to ensure one's continuity. That instinct, if you will, is not, necessarily, unique to 'biological' life forms. If you would excuse me…?"
Data edged past her to join the others by the open console, leaving the deeply unsettled Freja Anders staring after him.
"That looked like a pretty intense conversation," Nat said, walking up beside her, his headset dangling from his hand. "What did he say to you?"
Freja shook her head a little, then turned to face him.
"Did you get the images you wanted?"
"I won't really know what I have until we get this equipment back to the compound, and the computers there," he said, and touched her shoulder. "Are you OK?"
"I think," she said softly, clutching his hand, "I think that man is the spookiest thing I have ever faced in my life."
"What did he do?" Nat demanded.
"It's not anything he does… It's the way he is," she said. "That machine is alive, Nat, I have no doubt of it. A breathing, thinking, living...thing! Standing there, he spoke to me of…of kinship and instinct and… And I could sense this loneliness in him. A…a sadness, so profound…"
She leaned in close and whispered against his arm.
"Oh, Nat… I think it's absolutely terrifying…"
Riker stood up from his uncomfortable crouch and stretched his arms above his head. Picard and Tu'Pari were deep into the puzzle of the musical glyphs, and Riker was getting tired of holding the lantern, and craning his neck to peer over their shoulders.
"Hey, Data," he greeted as the android approached. "Did the break help? Are you feeling any better?"
"My power levels have, again, stabilized," he said truthfully, deciding the first officer did not need to know that he still felt uncomfortably weak and irritable, and that the low, pulsing buzz from the omnipresent dampening field was vibrating incessantly in his newly sensitive ears and sinuses, provoking the onset of what he could only describe as a mild headache. "Thank you, for your concern."
"Come on, Data, you don't have to talk like that with me," Riker said.
"Sir?" Data queried.
"We play poker, remember?" Riker said. "And, we both know you haven't quite remastered that stony face you used to pull. Now, what's wrong, really?"
"I am fine," Data insisted. "It's just..."
He sighed, and gave Riker's arm a slight tug, leading him to a fairly sheltered part of the cavern where they could talk in relative privacy.
"I don't think the archaeologists feel...comfortable...around me," he admitted, glancing at Freja Anders. "Which makes me feel terribly awkward around them, especially in these close quarters. But, more than that, I get the impression that they do not want my input. Dr. Tu'Pari in particular has made a point of downplaying my every suggestion so far, and Dr. Kapoor has been making covert recordings when he believes my back is turned..."
He shook his head and looked straight at the commander.
"Why?" he entreated, his amber eyes tight. "If they have an issue with my presence here, why do they not speak to me directly? Why these odd, passive-aggressive behaviors?"
"I don't think it's personal, Data," Riker said. "They've been a team for a long time. From their perspective, we're just a bunch of drop-in strangers."
"Perhaps..."
Data rubbed his gritty forehead, and leaned back against the cavern's rough rock wall.
"Will..." he said. "Do you think I made a terrible mistake, installing my emotion chip?"
"Why are you asking me now, when you know I don't think that at all?"
"I don't know," the android said. "I just...I feel so...so torn. I know this work is of vital importance, I understand why the captain wants me here to help, yet I feel utterly superfluous. Whereas, back at the compound, I know that I am needed. That my input...my presence...is valued, even welcomed—"
He cut himself off, and straightened, glancing over to where Picard and Tu'Pari still had their heads bent over the silvery console.
"My apologies," he said stiffly. "I am being selfish, allowing my personal frustrations to overshadow my purpose here. I am currently running a cypher decryption program, but many of the symbols on that control panel are unknowns, and the musical codes themselves are enormously complex. I—"
"Data..."
"Yes, sir?"
Riker shook his head, and looked the android in his anxious amber eyes.
"Data, my friend, when are you going to learn that it's OK for you to feel what you're feeling? I know you're tired, and I can tell you're frustrated, and it's nothing to apologize for. You know how I know? Because I feel the same way."
Data lowered his gaze, unconvinced.
"Sir, I—"
"Do you think I feel useful here, Data," he asked, "moving equipment around and holding up lanterns? At least you've got that positronic brain. I couldn't crack this code with a mallet."
"A mallet?" Data tilted his head. "But surely..."
His dark eyebrows raised, and his mouth opened in realization.
"Ah! A joke, of course," he said, and smiled, a hint of humor relaxing the tightness around his eyes. "I'm sorry, Will. I think that damn dampener is draining my patience along with my energy. I must admit, that awful buzzing is getting on my last nerve. It makes me feel so oddly...frantic...? Or, would 'frazzled' be a better term?"
"I can't really hear it," Riker said, rubbing at his bearded jaw, "but I know what you mean. There is this constant, subtle sort of vibration, isn't there... I can feel it, way down deep in my ears..."
"It is absolutely maddening," Data said. "I experienced a similar sensation when those Orion kidnappers had me locked in that tiny closet of a cell with Howard, the helpful home domestic." His smile broadened. "Though, perhaps I shouldn't complain. The incessant humming of that forcefield is what gave me the idea that led to our escape."
"Really?" Riker said. "I've been meaning to ask you about that. We didn't have time for much more than a quick debriefing after you got back, and I know it's been your priority to find some help for those kids."
"That is true," Data said. "And, I would be pleased to tell you the whole story. But, with our time here so short, should I not return to—"
"Yes, of course," Riker said. "I didn't mean you should tell me everything right now. But, you mentioned drawing the Orion guard's attention with a song, and I have to ask—"
"It was The Song That Never Ends," Data told him. "A rather whimsical, and effective, expression of the concept of endless infinity. Are you familiar with it?"
Riker shook his head a little, trying to cast his memory back...way back, to his earliest childhood...
"God, Data, you know... I think, maybe in preschool, we used to sing a song like that. But now... I can't even remember how it goes."
Data glanced surreptitiously around the little cavern, then cautiously brought a hand to the side of his mouth, looking for all the world like a shy little boy preparing to impart a secret. Softly, very softly, he sang: "This is the song that doesn't end. Yes, it goes on and on, my friend. Some people started singing it not knowing what it was. And, they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that doesn't end..."
"That's right!" Riker said, his eyes widening with wicked amusement. "I remember! It just goes on and on, my friend..."
Data joined him, just as amused, and delighted to find the commander playing along. Soon the two had begun to harmonize.
"Some people started singing it not knowing what it was. And they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that doesn't end. Yes, it goes on and on, my friend! Some people started singing it—"
Data's combadge chirped, and Deanna's spotty voice crinkled through. The two men stopped singing at once, and Data tried to respond to the badly distorted message.
"Counselor?" he said urgently. "Counselor Troi, you are not coming through. Please repeat—"
A terrible rumbling shook the cavern. Data caught Riker before he could topple to the ground, then rushed over to help the others.
"What did you do?" Tu'Pari demanded as the rumbling worsened, his dark eyes burning in his stiffly expressionless face. "What was that song you were singing?"
"Merely a circular rhyme for children," Data said.
"Well, whatever it was, that song did something, Data," Picard said, his own expression wide with wonder. "Look - look there!"
He indicated the etching of the monolith, where a long, dark slit had appeared. It deepened slowly, the opalescent wall panel splitting before their astonished eyes into two massively heavy doors that continued to swing inward as showers of dust and rock poured down from above.
The officers and archaeologists coughed and huddled close while Data did his best to deflect the largest and sharpest of the falling rocks. After what felt like an anxious eternity, the rumbling slowed, then stopped, leaving the little group shaken, cut, bruised, and filthy...and far too awed to care.
"By Surak, and all his teachings..." Tu'Pari intoned, dust and dirt streaming from his hair and shoulders as he rose shakily to his feet.
The wall had opened to reveal a dazzling, ethereal display. Insubstantial images, waves and ripples of light, coalesced to form intricate braids, twisting lattices of stairs and ladders with no apparent beginning or end.
The group only caught a glimpse, a brief impression of power and delicacy, of color and darkness twined together in infinite complexities before the doors slammed shut, the slit disappeared, and the opalescent wall mural stood whole and impenetrable once more.
"No..." Freja gasped, holding out her hand...
"Sing it again," Tu'Pari demanded, his cold black eyes boring into Data's.
"It would do no good," Data said quietly, still deeply shaken by what they'd all just seen.
"Sing it, android," Nat said, moving to the Vulcan's side. "Sing that song exactly as you did before."
"Dr. Tu'Pari, Dr. Kapoor," Data said, struggling to keep his own voice steady and calm. "I do not think that my song alone prompted that wall to open. If you recall, when Captain Kirk encountered a Preserver artifact, it was a combination of vocal intonations and the sound of a communicator that signaled its trap door to open."
"What are you telling us, Data?" Picard asked, standing slowly, then helping Freja to her feet.
"My communicator signaled while Commander Riker and I were singing," Data told him. "But the message was garbled by atmospheric interference. This confluence of sounds, both vocal and mechanical, may be what triggered that wall to open. But, sir, I must report that the tone of Counselor Troi's message was quite urgent. Although I was unable to catch many of her words, I believe she wants us to return to the compound, Captain. Immediately."
"No, not yet," Nat said, his own dirt-streaked features taking on a rather wild look. "We have to try to open those doors again!"
He dashed to the center of the gleaming wall panel, searching desperately with his fingers for any trace of a crack.
"Come on, we did it once!" he cried. "We've seen the Preservers' power source! We can't just walk away now!"
"I'm afraid that is exactly what we must do."
Nat turned his fierce, incredulous glare on Tu'Pari.
"You have to be kidding me," he said. "You, of all people—"
But, the Vulcan simply shook his head, standing tall and stoic amidst the fresh piles of rocks and floating dust.
"We know now that it is possible," he said. "However accidentally, the code has been broken. Our task now is to study what has occurred. Only then, when we have gained a greater understanding of this event, will we be properly prepared to try again. And, perhaps, to begin to comprehend the significance of what we all saw here today."
Nat turned away, his fists clenched tightly by his sides.
"Damn you, Tu'Pari," he growled. "There are times when I truly hate your Vulcan logic!"
"But, he's right, Nat," Freja said gently, her bright yellow hair left dim and dark by the falling dust and fading lantern light. "You know it as well as we do."
Nat swore again and kicked the panel, then turned and nodded.
"All right," he said. "All right, let's pack up our gear and head back home. Somebody find that equipment bag..."
To Be Continued...
References Include - TNG: The Chase; The Offspring; Brothers; the movie First Contact; TOS: The Savage Curtain; "The Song That Never Ends," by Norman Martin (1988).
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