Boogeymen Part 11

"And yet," Data said in the reasonable voice Wesley sometimes found maddening, "the Boogeyman program had nothing in it that might cause such a malfunction."

"You remember the entire program?" La Forge said.

"Of course. An android never forgets."

"I've heard a lot about that Boogeyman program," La Forge said. "h.e.l.l, I'm the one who installed it in the holodeck. I'd like to take a look at it."

"I can type it out in just a few minutes," Data said. He sat down at an empty work station and began to type so fast his fingers were a blur.

"I'd like to try it again," Wesley said.

"What? The Boogeymen? The training program?"

"Both," said Wesley.

Even with his eyes covered, La Forge gave the impression he was squinting at Wesley. He said, "You'd better let me take a look at the programs first, Wes. Data doesn't make mistakes, but sometimes even correct code can do funny things inside a starship mainframe."

Riker had listened to Picard's story with some amazement. Though he'd used the Starfleet training programs just as every other fleet officer had, Riker claimed that he always knew in his gut when he was inside a holodeck simulation and when he was experiencing something real. "It must have been like a nightmare," he said of Picard's experience. "You never knew if you were really awake or just dreaming you were awake."

Riker's comment struck Picard hard. He smiled. "Of course, Number One. You are referring to the philosophical conundrum stated by Chuang-tzu."

Riker looked uncomfortable, the way he always did when Picard sprang a history lesson on him. "Vulcan?" Riker asked hopefully.

Picard shook his head. "You must read your history, Number One. Chuang-tzu was not Vulcan but a philosopher of ancient Earth, fourth century B.C. China, to be exact. On awakening from a dream he wondered if he had been a man dreaming he was a b.u.t.terfly, or was now a b.u.t.terfly dreaming he was a man."

"Ah," said Riker.

"Ah, indeed." Picard ordered Riker to carry on and left for the exobiology lab, grumbling to himself yet again that Starfleet Academy was perhaps a little light on the humanities.

He nodded to the security guard stationed outside the laboratory door and entered. Shubunkin and Baldwin were contemplating a model of the teardrop ship. Baldwin pointed a clear wand at the ship, and the top became transparent. He touched one of the miniature chairs with the wand and made it rise a few inches above the model.

"If we can believe these chairs," Baldwin said, "the members of the crew looked like us; they bent the way we do, anyway."

"That confirms the sensor readings we recorded on our first contact. Ninety-eight percent human. But humans need instrumentality. There's no indication that they were telekinetic."

Almost to himself, Picard said, "And yet they attained warp speed without warp engines."

"Yes, yes," Shubunkin said irritably. "Actually we have found instrumentation of a sort." He took the wand from Baldwin and pointed to an artifact near the tail of the ship that looked like nothing so much as a small ba.s.s drum. "As near as we can determine, this focuses some kind of energy."

"What kind?"

Baldwin shook his head, but he was not disagreeing with Shubunkin. He looked whipped. "Power output curves show a connection between the focusing mechanism and humanoid brain activity. Where that leads, who knows?"

The three of them stared at the teardrop. Evidently d'Ort'd technology was so different from anything in the Federation that none of the usual signposts were helpful. Picard said, "Sensors indicated the humanoids were asleep while the ship was in flight. If, for the sake of argument, we a.s.sume that the humanoid brain activity has something to do with the ship moving at warp speeds, perhaps the sleeping does, too?"

Shubunkin glanced at Baldwin to see what effect Picard's question had had. Baldwin shrugged.

"We're still missing something," Shubunkin said. "Some essential part of the puzzle."

"What about the natives of Tantamon Four?" Picard said.

"According to Baldwin's diaries," Shubunkin said, "the natives cannot be the builders."

"Perhaps their ancestors?" Picard said.

"Degenerate descendants?" Shubunkin said. "Impossible. Baldwin found no advanced artifacts except this single ship. Correct?"

"Correct," Baldwin said, and made talking-mouth motions with one hand as he rolled his eyes.

Shubunkin pointedly ignored Baldwin's impolite gestures and said, "Professor Baldwin's own observations support the fact that the natives advance by cooperating instead of by competing, the method used by the natives of Earth and so many other planets. I've found evidence of compet.i.tion on the ship."

"Your evidence is based on a theory."

"It is a law of exology!"

"It's a theory developed by a bunch of guys who've never been in the field!"

"Gentlemen, please," Picard shouted to be heard over their argument.

Quietly, sarcastically, Shubunkin said, "Professor Baldwin has a theory of his own." It was a dare.

"It's in the ship's software," Baldwin said, a little angrily, as if he'd suggested this before to no effect.

Shubunkin said, "Can you understand the software? I can't. I'm no computer expert. And even if you claim to understand it, you can still be wrong. We need primary data."

"Software is a tool. It has its own logic. I understand it well enough. I don't know why you get so defensive when I suggest that the humanoid d'Ort'd are the servants of the other, more alien species."

"A servant, like their ship," Shubunkin said sarcastically. "What does that mean? I tell you we need a second opinion."

"One of your would-be exologists?"

It was obvious to Picard that these two had for hours been daring each other to cross a line and that neither of them was going to budge. He said, "Perhaps Mr. Data can be of help. Few beings know more about computers and their software than he."

Baldwin said, "Sounds good to me."

Shubunkin shrugged and folded his arms.

Picard tapped his insignia and said, "Mr. Data."

"Here, Captain."

"Would you please join me in the exobiology lab on deck five?"

"On my way, sir."

Data arrived, the usual inquisitive expression on his face. Baldwin said, "Maybe now we can get somewhere, eh, Data?"

Data looked puzzled. "Have we met, sir?"

A cold wind blew through Picard. He shot Data a look and said with exaggerated care, "This is Professor Baldwin. We picked him up on Tantamon Four. You escorted him to the conference lounge."

"I did?" Data said.

"You did," said Picard. Baldwin and Shubunkin looked at him, mystified.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Shubunkin said.

"As you may have known, Data is an android. To my knowledge he's never before forgotten anything."

Chapter Eight.

DATA SAID, "I am incapable of forgetting anything." He noted the worried expression on Picard's face. "Have I forgotten something, sir?"

"It would seem so."

"Forgetfulness is a most interesting sensation," said Data. He stood motionless, a half smile on his face.

Picard had seen Data like this before. Riker had once called him Pinocchio, and that appellation was not far from the truth. Data was fascinated with humans and humanity. Picard feared that instead of being dismayed by his defect, Data was intrigued by it.

"Lieutenant Commander," Picard said in a purposely harsh voice.

Data looked at him. "Yes, sir?"

More kindly, Picard said, "Given your recent linking with the main computer of the holodeck Enterprise, I am concerned that your memory failure may be a symptom of more serious matters."

"It is certainly possible, sir."

"I suggest you run a diagnostic program on yourself immediately."

"Ah. Might I suggest, sir, that by your same reasoning, my internal diagnostic programs are not to be trusted. As indeed, I am not."

Worse and worse, Picard thought. What did Data expect Picard to do, throw him in the brig? Picard was distressed to find that he considered this a real option. Hoping for something better, he said, "What do you suggest?"

"It is not likely that the main computer has been contaminated by the Boogeymen. Therefore, I suggest that I allow the main computer to diagnose me. I suggest further that you ask Mr. La Forge to supervise this procedure."

"Done." He tapped his insignia and said, "Mr. La Forge."

"Here, Captain."

"Meet me in the computer center on deck ten immediately."

"On my way."

Baldwin and Shubunkin did not entirely appreciate the seriousness of Picard's problem, but they took time out from their quarrel and wished him well.

Picard and Data hurried to deck ten, and Picard went through the identification process that had not worked for him on the holo-Enterprise. As the doors to the computer core control center slid open, La Forge arrived with Wesley. Picard glanced at Wesley but did not object to his presence. He might have something valuable to offer.

The doors closed behind them, and they were alone with the main access to the brain of Enterprise. La Forge walked to the situation wall and studied it for a moment. "Everything seems normal, sir. What's the problem?"

"It's Mr. Data. He's forgotten Professor Baldwin."

Wesley started to speak, then thought better of it.

La Forge raised his eyebrows and nodded. He said, "You'll want a full diagnostic on him. Come on over here, Data. This won't hurt a bit."

"I didn't expect that it would," Data said as he crossed to the wall of electronic ports. La Forge used an optical cable to plug him in, then sat down at one of the four central terminals and brought it up. Picard and Wesley backed off, watching as if La Forge and Data were performers in a stage play.

"Put yourself into pa.s.sive mode," La Forge said as he made adjustments on his board.

"Done," said Data in a strange, flat voice.

La Forge said, "We don't have enough room in the mainframe for all Data's programming, but we do have a copy of his diagnostic program, just in case something like this should come up." He set a few defaults and said, "Just relax. Computer."

"Working," said the computer voice and Data at the same time.

"Access and run diagnostic program 'Data' on peripheral in port 6-665A."

"Working," Data and the computer said together.

Picard didn't know what he expected to see, but what he did see was nothing. The computer spoke to itself in staccato electronic tones while La Forge sat back with his arms folded, watching Data. The android did not move. The expression on his face was blank. Picard said, "Anything to report on the holodeck problem, Mr. La Forge?"

"Nothing yet, sir. But I have a few more things to check."

Picard nodded. He was eager to find out what the problem was. A few days or even weeks without the holodeck would probably not have a significant effect on his crew, but as Counselor Troi was certain to remind him, the ability to use the holodeck was important to their mental health. And La Forge knew what he was doing.

The computer stopped twittering, and Data frowned.

"Data?" La Forge said.

Data worked the cable clear at either end and replaced his scalp. He rubbed his forehead with one hand while he stumbled to a chair and nearly fell into it.

"Data?" they all said as they converged on him.

"I feel most unusual," Data said.

"Unusual, how?" Picard said.

Data's mouth moved without making a sound. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. Picard knew that Data occasionally had to access information from a nether part of his positronic brain, but he never had to organize his thoughts, at least not the way natural life forms did. Data's thoughts arrived organized.

Wesley said, "If I looked like that, Mom would have me down in sickbay. And I'd probably go."

"Data?" Picard said.