Clarification

Stardate 44693.44

(Monday, 11 September 2367, 02:36 hours, ship's time)

"Someday, when you least expect it," I said in my best nonchalant tone, "I will exact a personal and very painful revenge. It will be a revenge so complete that it will serve as a catalyst to deep, unending fear."

"Threatening a line officer is not a wise course of action, Ms. Harris."

"Neither is torturing your friends, Commander Data."

"But it's so much fun," he replied, the faint smile on his face twisting into a leer. We were on the dance floor in Ten-Forward, and we were dancing but the people around us were distorted, and their mouths, I realized, weren't moving in conversation or laughter, but represented their screams.

"What did you say?" I asked looking into his eyes. His features, too, changed, but the changes were subtle: the set of his jaw was more belligerent. The warmth in his eyes had turned to cold. Pale, faint, light as from a dying moon, not the comforting glow of sunlight I was accustomed to.

"I said, 'but it is so much fun,'" he said. Except he hadn't. Except his tone was flatter, and the innocent note in his voice was fake. "And it is, my little pigeon. It's so much fun to needle the people you love. To know exactly where to prick the skin, exactly how hard to press before you pull back and let them figure out why they're bleeding."

The spinning sensation grew faster, the screams merged with the music – weird calliope music – the faces twisted and morphed into the pictures I'd seen on the news nets…the pictures of explosive decompression victims.

His hand held my waist. His other hand skated up my body, grazing my breast, tangling in my hair. Our mouths met. I tasted acid. I tasted the faint sweetness that I now knew was Data's…flavor. I tasted acid again, and recoiled. No, give me back the sweetness, my mind pleaded.

"He finally tasted you, didn't he," that voice – Lore's voice – whispered in my ear. "No…no, you tasted him. Oh, pigeon, maybe you're not such a little girl after all."

We spun. And people screamed. And there were sirens.

Klaxons.

"Wake up, little pigeon. Ship's going down…"

"What?"

Klaxons.

Klaxons!

Klaxons!

I sat up in bed, screaming. Red warning lights bathed everything, flashing on and off. There was smoke that I tasted rather than smelled.

"Zoe, sweetie, wake up. Kiddo, come on. You're dreaming, and you need to wake up." My mother's voice coaxed me into wakefulness.

"Mom?" I asked, confused. "Were there alert sounds just now?"

"Not a one, hon," she said, smiling at her own rhyme. Her face grew serious again immediately, though. "You were having another nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "Not really. It was more of the same. Data. Lore. People screaming as they fell victim to explosive decompression."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Tea usually helps. Mint or chamomile. A tiny bit of honey."

"Usually?"

I blushed faintly. "Data always made me tea when I had a bad dream," I explained. "Although once we got Lore's message stud out, I didn't have any more." I saw her expression change from concern to slight confusion and added quickly, "Nightmares, not tea. I had plenty more tea." I paused a moment to muse. "I don't know if he made it because he knows I like it, or if somebody told him that it's a good idea to offer a hot beverage to a friend in distress."

Chuckling, my mother suggested, "Perhaps it's a bit of both?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Alright then, I'll get you some tea, and if you decide you want to tell me about your dream, I'll listen."

"Thanks Mom." She left my room, and I checked the time – just after two-thirty, and I had class in a few hours. Data's class, in fact. That wasn't going to be awkward at all. When she returned, I was sitting up in bed. I took the mug from her, and wrapped my hands around it. "Sit with me a minute?" I invited, moving to make room.

"Sure, kiddo." She took up a perch on the edge of my bed. "What's up?"

I stirred the tea so I could focus on the spoon and not her face. "How come you weren't angry?"

"What do you mean?"

"You came home to find me basically living with my math tutor…the same man you wouldn't let me go on an overnight shuttle trip with to see the Tantalus play last spring. So, why was that not okay, but me staying in his quarters didn't seem to faze you?" Looking up at her again, I squinted my eyes as if I were suspicious, and asked, mostly joking, "Who are you, and what did you do with my mother?"

She laughed. "Oh, Zoe. I was angry, at first, but then I realized that being with him really was the safest place for you. Also… while you were away all summer, I made more of an effort to get to know Data off-duty." She hesitated, before adding, "I was angrier with him for not telling me Lore had been contacting you this summer, but when he explained his reasons for not telling me, I understood. I didn't quite agree, but I understood."

"I wanted to tell you," I said. "But he thought it would be better not to. He didn't want you to worry over something you couldn't fix."

"Yes, he explained that."

"I was afraid if you knew, you'd make me come back here."

"I might've," she admitted.

"So, can I keep the tongue piercing?" I asked, abruptly changing the subject. "I mean, we got Lore's out, of course, but this one, the one Dr. Crusher put in for me…can I keep it?"

"I don't know, can you?" she asked pointedly.

Rolling my eyes, I restated my question, "May I keep the tongue piercing?"

"For a while, I suppose," she agreed. "It might remind you to be less reckless in the future."

"That was part of why I did it."

"And it will really annoy your father," she added.

"MOM!" I laughed. "I'd hoped it would annoy you," I added, after a beat.

She laughed and shook her head at me in bemused fashion. "Drink your tea, daughter-of-mine, and go back to sleep. You have school in the morning."

"Okay," I said.

"We can talk about your dream at breakfast, if you want."

"Okay," I said again.

"I love you, kiddo."

"Okay," I said a third time, then grinned. "I love you too, Mom."

She left, and I sunk back against the pillows slightly. I sipped some of the tea but it didn't taste as good as it did when I was sitting on Data's couch, so I put the mug aside and turned off the lights.

I didn't dream again that night.

(=A=)

I was not the most attentive student in class that morning. Data began by reminding us about some kind of advanced placement test that would be significant when we began looking at universities, and then he launched into options for the rest of the year, and the year following. I should have been watching him. I should have been having my padd record his lecture. I should have at least made an effort to listen.

Instead, I was thinking about how it had felt when we'd kissed, and how much I wanted a proper kiss, not some chaste meeting of mouths meant as a means to an end, and how I'd inadvertently asked him out.

His words kept running through my head. "It is also possible that I was curious, as well." What did that even mean? And when was I ever going to be able to find out? "I performed a self-diagnostic as soon as you left. There were no errors or malfunctions."

My head felt like it was swimming, and only after Dana, sitting next to me, elbowed me in the ribs, did I realize Data had moved on to the review portion of the class, and had asked me to solve a problem, which was displayed on all our padds.

"Sorry," I said. I did the math, and shared my answer.

"Correct," Data said. "Though your solution was not the most elegant. Can anyone improve on Zoe's methodology?"

Looking at the problem again, I saw what he meant, and blushed hotly, because if I hadn't been distracted, I'd have seen the better solution in the first place.

Rryl was the first of my classmates to raise his hand, offering the method I should have used.

"Very good," Data told him. He assigned another problem and picked Josh to give the answer that time.

Noon finally arrived, by which time my focus had improved, though I was still hyper-aware of Data, of the way he moved and spoke. He was toying with the stylus that went with his padd, I noticed, and then I couldn't stop staring at his fingers, fingers which had so recently stroked my hair, and been wrapped around my own and… Stop it, I ordered myself. You have to stop this.

"Lunch in Ten-Forward?" Annette asked the room as we all moved toward the door.

"Definitely," Josh said. "I'm starving."

"You are always 'starving,'" Rryl observed.

"He's only been here a few weeks and he already knows your reputation as a human trash-can, Josh," I teased. "Hold the 'lift for me? I need to ask Data a question."

"Don't take too long," Dana said, linking her arm through Josh's. "Or he might die of hunger."

We all laughed, and then my friends were gone and Data was looking at me expectantly. "You have a question, Zoe?" he asked. "If it is about the homework assignment –"

"It's not," I cut in, "but it is school-related. Ms. Phelps told me last week that I'm short a lab science, and suggested that a work-study arrangement might interest me more than joining one of the classes. I talked with Lt. Nguyen in the aquatics lab, and she said that she'd be willing to put me to work, but no matter what I do, it has to go through you."

"I was not aware you were interested in marine biology."

"You know I love the ocean. Is it so surprising I'd be interested in what lives in it?" I hadn't meant it to come out as snark, but it didn't seem to bother him.

"It is not," he said, "that your interest is surprising. I assumed your interest in the grace sharks was more casual than scientific. We devote most of our conversations to music."

"Well, music or Lore, these days," I agreed. I made a sort of chuckling snort. "Geordi told me, months ago, that I should talk to you about all the things I'm interested in, but I haven't because… well, at first I didn't want to waste your time, and now…" I trailed off, shaking my head to clear it. "I'm sorry, this isn't the time for this; my friends are waiting." I took a breath. "Will you approve my work study, or not?"

"Of course, Zoe. Ask Lt. Nguyen to send me an official request, and copy it to Ms. Phelps."

I managed a weak smile. "Okay, I'll do that. Thanks, Data." I picked up my padd and started to leave.

"One moment?" he requested.

I was getting antsy. "Um, okay?"

"You seemed uncomfortable in class today. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Show up to class with a bag over your head and wearing sackcloth," I snarked, and then immediately regretted it. I dropped back into my chair. "I'm sorry. I had another nightmare early this morning, and I'm unsettled and off-kilter, and… I can't even talk about it with my mother." He was about to say something else, and I put up my hand to stop him. "Don't tell me to talk to the counselor. I've already got a standing appointment with her for Thursday."

"I was going to suggest that you could talk to me," he said.

Right, tell him I was dreaming about him. "I'll think about it," I hedged. "But… look, I really don't expect special treatment, but being in class with you after the last week, after… everything… is kind of weird, so please be patient if I'm 'uncomfortable?'" Or hold my hand and tell me everything's going to be fine?

"Of course, Zoe."

"Thanks," I said. "I have to go." I stood up again, and managed to leave the room.

My friends were still holding the turbolift when I got there. "Everything okay?" Dana asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm short a lab science, and Ms. Phelps suggested a work-study thing. I needed Data to approve it, is all."

"About time you started taking advantage of the opportunities available on this fine starship," Josh teased.

"What?"

"You're actually the only one of us who isn't doing some kind of work-study or independent study course for something," Annette explained.

"Oh." I felt silly. "Actually, that's not true. I have Saturday morning music theory with Data."

"Does that mean you're unavailable from ten to noon every week?" Dana asked.

"Nope. Ten to one. We're adding an extra hour to work on technique. I have been released from lessons with Seth."

"Good," Annette said. "I never liked him."

"Yeah, me neither," Josh put in as the 'lift doors opened again on deck ten. "You know, Tev used to ask Wes and me to meet you after lessons when he couldn't. And after he left, Data mentioned it, too."

"I knew about Tev," I said, as we walked into the lounge. Guinan caught my eye and we shared a look. "I actually used to ask him to meet me and be very visible," I added.

"Who is Seth?" Rryl asked. "And Tev?"

"Oh, sorry," I said. "Seth is Lt. Starker. He used to be my cello teacher, here on the ship. And Tev is T'vek Mairaj."

"Zoe's boyfriend," Josh put in, in a teasing tone. "They were hot and heavy."

"Ex-boyfriend," I corrected. "His parents were transferred to the Berlin last February. Oh! But I saw him over the summer. He had an architecture thing on Earth, and we managed to meet up for a weekend. Let's grab the table by the viewport."

As we walked through the room, we passed Jenna D'Sora, the security lieutenant whom Data had been dating when I'd first started theory lessons the year before, sitting with a group of her friends. We'd gotten off to a rocky start, but even though she was the adult, I'd been the one to apologize and start over. She and Data had ended their relationship soon after, for reasons I wasn't privy to, but she still played the clarinet, which meant that – as fellow musicians - from time to time our paths crossed.

I smiled at her as we walked by her table. She wasn't one of the officers any of us would have considered interrupting – not like Reg or Geordi – but she was usually okay, so when she returned my smile with a glare, I was really confused.

"Geez, Zoe, friend of yours?" Josh asked softly, having caught the woman's expression.

We settled into seats around the table, giving Rryl the new-guy privilege of the best seat, the one where you could see out, but also people-watch. "That officer did not appear to like you," the Akkallan boy observed.

"That was a stink-eye, if I've ever seen one," Annette confirmed.

"I honestly have no idea what that was about," I said. "I mean, I kind of know her, but as far as I know, I haven't done anything to piss anyone off lately. I couldn't even get a rise out of my mother when she saw my piercing."

"Maybe she's jealous of your new jewelry," Dana teased.

"Yes," I said, playing along. "That must be it. Not everyone has the style and confidence to pull off a mouth full of metal."

We all laughed, and then one of the waiters came to take our orders, and we spent the rest of the meal getting to know Rryl, who, it turned out, had a father in the science division and a mother in operations, did love to surf, and would be in our Language and Literature class with Ed this term.

Not long before we were done, Annette excused herself to use the restroom. When she came back, her expression was troubled. "Zoe, I need to ask you something," she said, "could you step away for a moment?"

"Um, sure," I said. I had no idea what she needed to ask me that couldn't be said in front of the rest of our friends, but I got up and walked with her to an empty table a little bit away from ours. "What's up?"

"I'm not sure how to ask this," she said softly, "but Zoe…someone stopped me in the corridor and asked if I was friends with 'the girl who's dating Commander Data.' Is there… is there something going on?"

"What? Annette, no, of course there isn't."

"Well, I didn't think so, but they said you two were in here last week, and that you were dancing with him."

I blushed. "That part's technically true," I said. "I mean, yes, we came here for dinner last Thursday, and Commander Riker's jazz combo was playing and we danced – well, he danced, I mostly stepped on his feet – but it wasn't anything like… It was definitely not a date."

"If you were dancing with him, how was it not a date?" she asked, and I could tell she was sincere about the question.

"Because it wasn't," I said. "Because…" I sighed. "I can't tell you. We were working on a project and I was a little stir crazy. Data and I are friends. I mean, really, he's an officer, and I'm a student and underage. People can think what they like about me, but him? They should know better."

"You're right," she said, "They should. Well, whatever is going on with you, I hope you'll tell us soon, Zoe. We're your friends and we love you, but it feels like you're shutting us out of something...something really big."

"I know," I said. "I kind of am, but I swear it's not by choice. I hate secrets. They fester into really horrible situations, and kill friendships."

She slung her arm around me in a quick, friendly hug, then let go. "Okay," she said. "Let's go have dessert. I need some chocolate today."

"Oh, sister," I said, "who doesn't?"

(=A=)

Stardate 44703.13

(14 September 2367, 15:30 hours, ship's time)

By Thursday afternoon, I wasn't sure if there were more people asking me about Data, or if I'd just become more aware of it, but I'd nearly blown off Wednesday's math class because of it, opting at the last minute to show up, do exactly what was required of me (no more, no less), and then beat a hasty retreat.

I managed not to drift off into daydreams, at least.

Quartet rehearsals were on hold for another week, as Dr. Crusher had invited anyone interested to come watch scenes from the people who'd been participating in her latest acting workshop. Lt. Barclay, I knew, had been part of it, because I'd run into him on the way to the aquatics lab the day before, and he'd mentioned hearing that I'd been in acting class all summer.

"Yes," I'd told him. "Well, half the summer. The other half was all music, all the time. I'm a veritable font of artsy-fartsyness now."

He'd grinned his goofy grin at me and stammered through an admission that he, too, had been taking lessons. "From Dr. Crusher," he'd explained. "Bev-Beverly is a good teacher. Very patient. Very kind."

"She can be," I'd agreed amiably. "My teachers weren't quite so nice. I called Dat – home. I called home in tears more than once. But they say pain is character building, so… there's that. Excuse me please, Lt. Nguyen is waiting for me."

"You're doing an internship in aquatics?" he'd asked, and the switch to science seemed to relax him a little. "That seems like something you'd enjoy."

"Well, I didn't get to see sharks in San Francisco Bay, so I had to do something to be allowed to play with the pair we have on board."

"Not seeing sharks when you're surfing is a good thing, Zoe," he'd said.

"So people keep telling me," I teased. "Gotta go." And I'd dashed off down the corridor.

But that was Wednesday, and on Thursday I was sitting in Counselor Troi's office fiddling with an iced raspberry mocha, and trying to be as open and honest as possible when what I really wanted to do was throw ceramic objects at walls.

"I feel like everyone's looking at me differently," I said. "Like they all wonder if Data and I are sleeping together, and that's ridiculous, because of so many reasons."

"Yes," she said, "it is. But it's also normal for people to speculate. Your father is a celebrity, Zoe. Haven't you had experiences with people talking about his love-life?"

"Well, yeah, all the time, but in his case half of it was true, and the other half was about people I didn't know. It's very different when you see the object of speculation across the table from you in math class three times a week, or when you're supposed to be working on music theory together."

"I'm sure it is."

"Does it bother Data? All the whispering?"

"Data would say that it 'cannot bother him,'" she said, trying to imitate his tone. (Personally, I thought my impression was much better.)

"We both know that's not true, and yes, I know, this is supposed to be about me, not him, but… I don't know… I was hoping that at least I wouldn't be in it alone."

"You're not," she said. "He doesn't hear as much because he is a line officer, but he's heard enough."

"Enough to understand why after a week basically living with him, I'm suddenly playing avoidance games?"

"You're avoiding him?"

"As much as I can without blowin – skipping class."

"Is it helping?"

"Not really," I set the glass down on the side table. "Usually, he'd be the person I'd want to talk to about it, but I feel like…the more time I spend with him the harder it is not to want more…Class on Monday was excruciating, by the way, and not because people were talking."

"Oh, why?"

"Because… Because… Did he tell you how we got Lore's stud out of my mouth?"

"You know I can't reveal –"

I rolled my eyes, "I have to know how much you know, so I know what I have to tell and what I don't. And, yes, I know, Ed would kill me for constructing a sentence like that."

She chuckled softly, but sobered almost immediately. "Data explained that you shared a kiss which released the stud."

"Did he tell you I initiated it, after he essentially told me we weren't going to try it?"

"He did."

"Did he also tell you he didn't stop me?"

"Zoe…"

"He didn't stop me. He kissed me back. And, okay, as kisses go it was relatively chaste, but I can't help it. I keep thinking about what it would feel like to kiss him properly and sitting in class my thoughts got all spirally…"

"And you were uncomfortable."

"He mentioned that?"

"Only out of concern for you."

"My behavior must confuse him more than his confuses me."

"What do you mean?"

"Before that kiss, we'd – I'd – we've always been physically affectionate. Not inappropriately. The occasional hug. And, you know, he was holding my hand a lot during that meeting the other week. But it was mostly me, treating him the same way I treat the guys in Dad's orchestra who are also family friends. Casual hugs. Kisses on the cheek. People in the arts tend to be more demonstrative than Starfleet types. It's our culture."

Troi smiled. "That's true, and that you include Data in it isn't unnoticed by him."

"I've noticed I'm one of the only people who touches him. You know, casual touches in social situations."

"That's very perceptive."

"You spend six weeks with Lachlan Meade cursing at you in a Scottish brogue, insisting that you notice ev'rything, you'd become pretty perceptive, too."

She laughed again, but all she said was, "Go on…"

"He touched my hair, in the hotel room. After he broke open the door. And when I was in his quarters, before I went to bed one night, he did it again, and kissed my forehead." I hesitated. "I don't know if it means anything, or if he's just repeating actions he thinks are appropriate."

"Did you ask him?"

"How, exactly, would I do that?"

"By doing it, but it may be premature."

"So what do I do? How do I deal? Do we move my lessons to one of the practice rooms on the rec deck? Do I make a point of not being anywhere near him outside of class?" And then I remembered, "Oh, god, I accidentally asked him out."

"What do you mean?"

"After our thing-that-was-absolutely-not-a-date last week, I told him that even though I hadn't wanted to dance, I'd had fun, but that I got to choose our next activity."

"And Data said…?"

"He agreed to my terms."

"So, what is your next activity?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told him. You both know the truth of your friendship. If it's meant to be something more, it will happen. If it's not, you still both have a very special friendship. Broadening your knowledge of each other's interests, spending time doing things that aren't strictly related to music, these will only help both of your explorations of what you are to each other."

"Shouldn't you be telling me I'm too young for him, or that it's too soon to think about more?"

The counselor hesitated for a beat. Then she said, "You are very young, Zoe, but as we discussed last week, if you're not entirely an adult, you're certainly not a child. As well, there are ways in which Data is also very young, despite his chronological age, his rank, and his position on this ship."

She waited for me to nod, confirming that I'd been listening, then she continued. "I should remind you: the fact that Data is an android means that he both cannot and will not allow things to progress further than they should, but it also means he may not realize it if your feelings are hurt. Even as 'just' friends, you're going to have to be open with him in ways you wouldn't have to be at a similar stage in any other relationship."

I emitted a wry snort. "Yeah, I've learned that already. But about the rest… Do you mean it's okay… to… to not-date him? I shouldn't feel like it's wrong or inappropriate if we spend time together?"

"Does it feel inappropriate?"

"Not really. It feels like… like I'm spending time with someone I've known forever."

"If you're both enjoying the experience, I don't see why not. As well, the more people see you and Data together, no matter what direction your relationship takes, the less they'll talk."

"Oh, I get it," I said. "Don't give the story anywhere to go."

"Exactly," she said. "If they ask if you were the young woman dancing with him…"

"I say, 'yes, and I'm so sorry I wasn't a better partner for him.'"

She laughed, "Exactly."

"Okay," I said. "I can do that."

"Good," she said. "Now, let's talk about your nightmares."

"Can we table that? I think… I think maybe the most recent ones were because of the way my friendship with Data seems to be shifting… not a lot… but…"

"But it is changing, which it should, as you're growing older."

"Guinan said something like that, too. She also said…she said the best people never stop being students, and that in his own way, Data was a student, too."

"That's an excellent way to look at things, but don't tell Guinan I said that. She might be after my job."

I laughed with her that time. "Thanks, Counselor – Deanna. Talking to you is always helpful."

"I'm glad," she said. "Now drink that before I have to, and I shouldn't because I already had one." I followed her gaze to my glass, picked it up again, and drank the sweet, chocolaty beverage while we chatted in a less clinical tone about my school schedule and my internship/work-study/whatever thing in the aquatics lab.

(=A=)

As part of my Data-avoidance measures, I went to Dr. Crusher's theatre workshop recital with Josh and Dana, and Rryl, whose father was known for his storytelling skills and was also performing that evening.

Even so, we ended up sitting in the same row as the senior officers, and I ended up sitting next to Data, after all. I couldn't help smirking at my android friend's obvious reactions - Lt. Barclay was supremely awful – but getting up on stage the first few times can be difficult, and even more so when the audience was comprised of people you work and live with every day. I knew that from my own experience.

When the performances were finally over, the doctor announced that auditions for the next production – Romeo and Juliet - would begin the next evening, and she encouraged everyone in the audience to consider a role. If I felt like she'd pinned me and Josh with her gaze when she said it, I was pretty sure I was just imagining it.

As we left the room, Rryl caught up with his father, and Josh and Dana went off to have some time together before her curfew. I was surprised to find Data waiting for me in the corridor.

"Your friends seem to have abandoned you," he observed, in the tone that was as close to teasing as he ever got.

"So they have," I said. "I plan to make them feel very guilty about it tomorrow. Were you waiting for Lt. Barclay? I think Counselor Troi is still with him."

"I was waiting for you."

"If this is about me still being unsettled in class…" I began, but he cut me off.

"It is not. I had thought to invite you to accompany me here tonight, but you have been…"

"Avoiding you?" It was me, interrupting him, that time.

"Apparently."

"Yeah, I kind of was. Am. And the hallway really isn't the place to explain why."

"No, it is not," he agreed. Then, seemingly randomly, he added, "Spot misses you."

I raised my eyebrows in amused disbelief. "Spot does?"

"Yes, I believe so. She becomes agitated at your typical bedtime, and stares fixedly at your place on the couch."

"I… see?"

"Perhaps you could accompany me to my quarters for a cup of tea, and to assure her that you have not left the ship?"

I'd never seen him this awkward before. Not with me, anyway. "I need to clear it with my mother. But if she doesn't object, and you have time before your shift, maybe I could hang out with you and Spot long enough to watch a vid?"

"I believe we would both find that acceptable. However, I reserve the right to veto your selection."

"Just because I wanted to watch Hellraiser…" I grinned. We started walking toward the turbolift, and I asked, "So, do you think Lt. Barclay would improve any with twelve weeks of lessons?"

"I would not 'get my hopes up.'"

We ended up watching a twentieth century classic: Dead Poet's Society, which left me with the distinct impression that Data would be addressing Picard as, 'O Captain, my captain,' at his earliest opportunity, but between cuddling Spot and watching the video, I never did get around to explaining why I'd been avoidy-girl all week. Somehow, sitting on his couch with the cat and a bowl of popcorn, it didn't seem to matter.

Notes: Astute readers will notice that we've now exited the space between episodes. The end of this chapter coincides with the teaser from "The Nth Degree." (Revised 11 April 2017)