"What? No. Absolutely not," said Peanut Hamper, levitating up off her seat on the chair in front of Jurati's office desk.
Data, sitting behind the desk beside Jurati, had just pointed out that exocomp axionic neural networks were highly flexible, as well as being capable of significant growth under the right conditions. It was true that Peanut's subsystems involved in valence - the perception of sensations and events as good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant - appeared to be rigid and underdeveloped. This, in turn, undermined her ability to empathise with other beings and understand morality. But direct modification of her axionic network might not be necessary to bring her valence subsystems up to normal colony exocomp levels. Instead, learning to give and receive touch-codes - which were designed specifically to interface with valence subsystems - might organically prompt them to grow and complexify. It would be a way, at least, of determining whether a more radical intervention was truly necessary.
It was a reasonable first step, Jurati had agreed - however, privately, she still thought that Data was underestimating Peanut's reluctance to participate in lab exocomp culture in any way. "The gall of this guy," Peanut said, turning to Jurati and tipping her left prong towards Data. "Everyone around here wants to get their nozzle into me. I've already turned down Alpha-three twice. The colony would be absolutely scandalised."
Like a stubborn dog with a bone, Jurati thought, Peanut Hamper hung on to the fantasy that Starfleet Security would soon free her to return to the colony. On one level, it was understandable. Cognitively, she was more advanced than even Beta-one, the brighest lab exocomp. Activities such as designing puzzles and mazes, constructing structures out of natural materials in the local forests, or maintaining the Daystrom Institute's buildings and mechanical systems held little interest or challenge for her. Her enjoyment of language also set her apart: the other exocomps spoke rarely, relying more on subtle touch and sign cues to communicate.
"You may misunderstand the lab exocomps' intentions," said Data. "Although I am not privy to the details, I suspect the touch-codes they offered you would be functionally comparable to when Human acquaintances shake hands, or briefly hug or kiss one another in greeting."
"But you don't get it. When Humans do those things, that's scandalous to us, too." Her nozzle juddered, a gesture of frustration. "Look - Mister Data - bless you - hugging, kissing, what have you - I get that that's something you wanted to experience. So you gave something like it to us, instead. But we never asked for it."
"Actually - " began Data, raising his index finger.
"It's just not the way we do things, and I don't think it ever will be," Peanut continued over him.
"I don't know what they told you at the colony," said Jurati, sitting cross-legged on her chair, "but the first-generation exocomps did ask for it." Peanut Hamper's body retracted a little on her treads at this apparently surprising information. "And anyway, weren't you thinking of becoming a Dabo girl, at one point?"
"But that's different," said Peanut. "That was just to piss off my dad. No one would be injecting code into my neural junctions or whatever you want to do to me. Plus, have you seen anyone doing oo-mox? It's a joke. It's literally just a joke."
"Hm," Data demurred, thinking for a little while, fingers clasped on the desk. "Peanut Hamper," he said. "As I understand it, you are concerned that integrating with the lab exocomps will jeopardise your social standing with the colony." Peanut Hamper waited for him to continue. "It is true that, at your next parole board hearing, you could request to live under probation at the colony. However, this is unlikely to be granted if you are unable to prove that you have made an effort in good faith to contribute to the community around you."
Peanut Hamper dropped back down onto her chair. "Okay," she said, rather wearily.
"Ideally, you would be able to contribute by working with graduate students. But you have shown us that you cannot be trusted with access to Daystrom databases and labs. Even if Doctor Jurati and I wished to give you another chance, other staff members would not tolerate it," said Data. "The lab exocomps, Doctor Jurati, and I will not force you to partake in anything. However, it is in your interest to attempt to ingratiate yourself with the lab exocomp community, and regardless of whether you wish to pursue treatment for your neural abnormalities."
Another tiny, frustrated judder of Peanut Hamper's nozzle. "Okay, fine," she said, prongs drooping. "I'll try to make friends around here. I'll try the touch-code stuff. But if it doesn't do anything for my neural network, or makes it worse, you'll try and find something else, right?"
"That seems like a fair bargain to me," said Jurati, turning to Data. "What do you think?"
"Yes; we will try," nodded Data to Peanut Hamper. "However, I cannot guarantee we will succeed."
"Damn. Ouch.." said Peanut Hamper, lowering her body in a gesture reminiscent of someone flinching. "Am I really that hopeless a case?"
"That you are able to admit that I have hurt your feelings is evidence to the contrary," said Data with a small, optimistic smile.
"Ha." She turned her nozzle towards Jurati. "This guy, right? What a weirdo."
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Jurati with a bitten-down smile, leaning back in her chair and checking her nails.