Charles returned to his dormitory.
"Why the long face?" he heard someone ask.
He span on his heel and smiled wryly when he saw who had asked the question.
"How's it going?" Jack asked, laughing. "You look knackered."
"I am," Charles replied.
"What's the problem?" Jack asked him.
Charles shrugged, leaning against the wall. "I read the timetable wrong."
"Don't tell me: You mistook an Mfor an P?" Jack waited expectantly, a smirk playing on his lips.
Charles shook his head. "Not quite. I thought I was meant to go to the Oppenheimer room. I was supposed to go to da Vinci."
"I guess now you know," Jack said with a smirk.
"Yeah, I suppose," Charles conceded.
"Hey, I was wondering," Jack began. "Will... you know Will, right?"
Charles frowned and tried to put a face to the name. "Will who?"
"Don't know his surname. Begins with L I think." He laughed.
"Oh, blond? Yes, I know him. Will Llewellyn," Charles said.
"Well, he's organising a party this weekend," Jack said. "I've said I'm going, but it would feel wrong if you weren't there."
"Isn't Aneela going?" Charles inquired, his tone of voice mischievous.
Jack bit his lip and looked away, aware that his face was turning red at the mention of the Orion cadet whom he had had his eye on for the past week. "Might be."
Charles' reply was a wry smile. "What sort of party?" heasked.
"Just... you know... a party," Jack replied vaguely. "Saturday. Nineteen-hundred hours."
Charles rubbed his chin. "He's been here barely a week and he feels the need to throw a party?" But then again, that was Will all over.
"It's all in line with regulation," Jack said reassuringly. "I think."
"Pfft, Will Llewellyn and regulation?" Charles fought back the urge to laugh. "How he even got into Starfleet is beyond me. A question worthy of a final exam paper."
"His father ison the board of governors," Jack reminded him.
"True," Charles agreed.
"So, you up for it?" Jack asked.
Charles made a face of consideration. "Do you think... Data could come?"
"Data?" Jack repeated. "Why not?"
"Just, well, he might stand out a bit," Charles said delicately.
"That doesn't matter. If he wantsto... Well, wrong word. If he comes to the reasoningthat... You get what I mean."
Charles gave his friend a slap on the back and grinned. "Of course I'll come."
"Data?" he called as he entered the dorm. "Where are you?" He bent down and looked under the bed. "What am I doing?" he said to himself.
"I am in the bathroom," Data finally said.
Charles raised an eyebrow. "Can I, uh, come in?"
"Of course," Data consented.
Charles hesitantly opened the door and found Data staring at himself in the mirror. "What are you doing?" Charles asked.
"Investigating," came the reply.
Charles frowned. "What are you investigating?"
"Myself," Data said.
Charles swallowed. "Anyway, when you're done doing whatever it is you're doing, there's this party. I wondered if your programming would permit you to come."
Data stopped peering at the mirror. "I think that studying would be a more efficient way of spending time."
"Oh."
"However, I understand that humans require leisure activities to balance out work. Therefore, if I am to be more human, it is logical that I engage in their pasttimes."
Charles nodded and smiled but now wondered if he was right to ask Data in the first place. After all, now he supposed he had to keep Data in sight for the duration of the party.
"I've always wondered what people used to do for leisure before holosuites were invented," Charles mused.
"Did you not undergo a course in Old Earth whilst you were at school?" Data asked, as surprised as he could be.
Charles shrugged and made a face. "Sort of."
Data gave him a quizzical look.
"We did, at secondary school. But I didn't really listen," he confessed.
"Then you do not know?" Data asked.
Charles shook his head. "Uh, well, I know a little about gramophones. There's another thing called a telephone. And I guess they used parks and shops in much the same way as we did."
Data nodded in agreement.
"Oh!" Charles exclaimed. "And, uh, television. Or was it telegram?"
"They are very different things," Data confirmed.
"They are?" Charles asked.
Data nodded. "A television is, if you will, a predecessor to a holographic projector. It works by converting images recorded by an imager, such as a camera, into electrical energy, then the series of images is transmitted across the network via satellite so that other people can see the image."
Charles nodded slowly in understanding. "I knew that one. What's a telegram?"
"A telegram is a device that was used to relay messages of a visual or video origin, as opposed to audio information, which was transmitted using a telephone," Data explained. "The telegraph system was discontinued in the year 2013."
"What about the other tele-thingies?" Charles enquired.
"You wish to know when they were discontinued?" Data asked. Charles nodded. Data searched his databases. "The telephone is still in use; indeed, its abilities soon branched to the transmission of visual messages, in the early twenty-first century."
"And the television is still in use," Data continued. "Though solely on Earth. A communications satellite system was set up when the first base was erected on the Moon in 2035, but it soon fell out of use."
"And a gramophone?"
"In simple terms, it was a method of relaying sounds," Data said. "A vinyl disc would be placed on a platform and a needle would dip into the grooves in the disc. The gramophone had a large dish, to enable the sound waves to escape."
"Sounds strange. Here, let's have a look on the computer." He sat at the desk and called up a file on the gramophone, he read it and then turned the machine off. "Looks rather odd, too." He smiled. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear to the party?"
Data shook his head. "It is days away. I have not considered clothing yet."
"I have," he laughed. "And, I'll have to get myself one of those gramophones."
"From where?"
Charles shrugged. "Someone must have one. I'll have a look." He got up and stretched. "Hey, that television. It sounds quite good. I might see if I can find any records of it." He went back to the computer and had a look. "Ah, yes." He came across a timeline, from its invention in 1926 by John Logie Baird, to colour broadcasting in 1953, 3D pictures in the 2000s and 4D in 2018. "I wonder why it halted there," Charles pondered, then he came across a link connecting to hologramatic technology. The use of it as a method of relaying broadcasts was first used in 2025. With the outbreak of World War Three, it all but ceased, then holograms subjugated their television predecessor.
He shut down the computer and made his way to the bathroom. "I'm going to turn in, I think."
He returned, with his teeth brushed, his hair combed. Then he clambered into bed and closed his eyes. He noticed that Data had heeded his words and was feigning sleep, as opposed to organising his files.
As morning came, a bird cawed outside, the sunlight streamed in. Charles rolled over and yelped when he fell out of the bed.
Data was awoken from his rest by the sound. "Charles?"
Charles got up and untangled himself from the duvet, huffing. He changed into his cadet's uniform, then went to the canteen with Data.
"I really need to get used to getting up early," Charles muttered. "I barely even had time to sort out my hair."
"Your hair appears to be the same today as it did yesterday," Data observed.
Charles blew air through his lips and he and Data joined the breakfast queue.
He looked inquisitively at the slop on his plate and they found a place.
"There appears to be a greater number of people in here than usual," Data commented.
Charles nodded and ate his food, gulping it down with water. His feeling sorry for himself was stopped short when he saw Hendricks and his heavy mob saunter into the room. Silence fell in the canteen, bar a few nervous murmurs.
Charles kept his head low but swore when he saw the gang come over to him. Over to Data, to be precise.
"That's myseat," Hendricks hissed, looking down at Data.
"Cadets are not assigned seats in the canteen," Data said bluntly.
"Leave him alone, Hendricks," Charles muttered, looking up at his smug face.
"Was I talking to you?" Hendricks snarled. He looked over at his henchmen. "Jimmy, was I talking to him?"
The boy named Jimmy shook his head and smirked.
"What do you think, Attal?" He looked at his other henchman, a Betazoid.
"Hethinks you were talking to him," he said, a wicked grin on his face.
"Well, that's quite rude, isn't it?" Hendricks sniggered. "Speaking when not being spoken to."
Charles realised that the whole of the cadet force was watching the spectacle. He swallowed. "Get lost, Hendricks. He cast his gaze over Jimmy and Attal. "Take your lackeys with you."
A muscle in Hendricks' jaw twitched. "Leave off, Charlie-Boy."
Charles stood up and rounded the table, standing a foot away from the trouble-maker. "Get lost." He stared him down.
Hendricks laughed along with his cronies.
"You heard me," Charles hissed. He tried to appear brave, to appear bigger than he was. But as he cast a glance around the canteen, he saw that all eyes were on him – even Data's – and he was unsure of what to do. Hendricks was like a mountain standing before him, ready to crush him.
"Isn't this cute?" Hendricks spat, laughing. "Little Charlie's standing up for the walking toaster."
"It's not cute and it certainly won't be pleasant if you don't leave now," Charles said angrily, his hands forming fists by his sides.
Data examined the situation. "Charles, perhaps we should move."
Charles glared at him. "No. Why should we?"
"Because he's an android. I'm a human-" Hendricks cut in.
Charles snorted. "Barely."
Hendricks narrowed his eyes. "So...I should get first pick of the seats. Like a robot needs to sit down. Pfft. He can't get tired."
"Wonder if he can feel pain," Jimmy added.
Hendricks smirked. "Yes, I wonder." He looked down at Data. "Get up."
Data hesitated and stood up.
Charles watched. He caught sight of his sister in the far corner of the room. One of her friends, Holly, had taken to hiding behind a tray, apparently oblivious to the fact that food was slowly sliding off it.
Hendricks grabbed Data by the collar, hauling the android over to him. Charles overand separated them.
"Leave off," Hendricks snarled at Charles.
Charles was pulled backwards by the two henchmen. The burly Betazoid was holding his hands behind his back.
Hendricks grinned. "Now then, where were we?"
"I believe you were just about to punch me," Data said.
"That's right." With that, he brought his fist back and buried it straight in Data's face. Data did not even flinch. He simply made a face which betrayed confusion. Hendricksdrew back his handand yowled in pain. He clutched his broken wrist.
He signalled for his henchmen to follow. They did, embarrassed and anxious of what Hendricks had planned for them. Because, somehow, it had been their fault.
Data brushed down his jacket. "Intriguing," he mused.
Charles wiped his mouth and sighed, glaring at those who were staring at him. "Unbelievable," he muttered, downing his water.
"Perhaps we should go to first period," Data suggested.
"Perhaps," Charles agreed, standing up, disposing of his leftovers. The hall had fallen eerily silent in the immediate aftermath of his stand-off with Hendricks, and he could hear that his heart was still pounding.
Data wondered what to say. "Would it restore your spirits if you helped me choose my outfit for the party?"
Charles let loose a smile. "Yeah, why not. I have a free period at fourteen-hundred hours."
"As do I," Data added.