Star Trek - Survivors Part 17

"Exactly."

She stared at him. "You took that test? How could they fool you, when you can see the walls of the holodeck no matter how it's programmed?"

"Do you mind if I do not explain how an android can be misled by computer experts? The point is that we face a similar paradox here. We know that Nalavia is so determined to maintain her tyranny that she has resorted to drugging her people. But this is not a Federation planet; we are not duty-bound to help the people of Treva regain their freedom."

"Are we duty-bound not to?" Yar asked. "Suppose we do nothing. Nalavia continues her rule-unless Rikan and Dare can put an end to it without our help."

"My help," said Data. "I have the information from Nalavia's computer which will allow them to remove the drug from the water supply."

"Allowing the people to decide for themselves whether to overthrow Nalavia," said Yar. "Isn't that closer to the spirit of the Prime Directive than leaving them unable to think for themselves?"

"It is not the spirit but the letter of the law that we are sworn to obey," Data pointed out. "If we interfere, we do not know the effect on Trevan culture."

"No, we only know what will happen if we don't interfere. Things will get worse. You told us the long-term effects of Riatine. Data, last night you were ready to help Rikan and Dare. What happened?"

"I was reminded of the short-term effect of removing the drug: war."

Yar remembered Rikan's "That's when we attack!"

"War or drugged docility," she said. "It's Priam IV, all right. But Data ... if I were a Trevan, I know which I would choose. You cannot imagine what it is to live drugged, to have no happiness except a false joy created by chemicals-"

"Your mother?" he murmured.

"And myself."

"What?!" he asked sharply.

"I don't remember anything but the pain," she admitted. "I ... I was born addicted to joy dust, Data, because my mother was. She fed it to me to keep me quiet when I was a baby, but after a while she couldn't afford enough for both of us. She stopped giving it to me. My earliest memories are of the pain of withdrawal."

"Tasha, I had no idea-"

"Please don't tell anyone. Not even Dare knows that. The woman who cared for me after my mother finally abandoned me altogether kept me free of the stuff until I was old enough to understand that a free mind was worth the pain of life, even on New Paris. Data, you said Riatine doesn't have physical withdrawal symptoms. I say, free the minds of the people of Treva. Let them think for themselves, decide for themselves what to do about Nalavia!"

Data stared into her eyes for some seconds. Then he nodded. "I will provide the information Rikan and Adin require. Rikan is Trevan; he has the right to decide what to do with it."

Data provided the records of the manufacture and delivery of Riatine. "It would be simplest to exchange it where it is warehoused before use," he explained. "There are no guards-why would anyone want to steal water purifier? If we had a transporter, it would be child's play to subst.i.tute a placebo for the Riatine; an hour's work for the capital and all three other major cities."

"But we don't have a transporter," Dare said, putting a casual hand on Data's shoulder as he leaned forward to study the screen. Yar saw Data glance at the hand-on the Enterprise, only Geordi touched Data that way, as if he were just another person. She felt her lips quirk at the change in Dare's att.i.tude once he actually met the android; obviously he had already forgotten that Data was a machine.

"Suppose," Dare was saying, "we ambush the lorries carrying the drug to the purification plants."

"Right!" said Barb.

"Fine if we just wanted to steal it," said Aurora, "but we want to subst.i.tute something for it. The regular deliverymen are probably known, and they would certainly be missed before the placebo was used."

"Mmm," Dare ruminated, "I was thinking of going in fast, hitting deliveries to all three cities in one night."

"We can do it," urged Barb. "If we just take the Riatine, they can't put it in the water."

Poet responded, "Who ever asks whether the enemy were defeated by strategy or valor?"

"I do!" Barb told him with a glare. "We're all gettin' fat an' lazy sittin' around here."

"The better part of valor is discretion," Poet reminded her.

"Dammit, Poet," the warrior woman said, "you talk like a coward. If I hadn't a seen you fight, I'd think you was some snivelin' worm."

Data interrupted the bickering. "The moment the Riatine is missed, Nalavia will know you have stolen it. If you replace it, the placebo may not be used immediately. If the drug wears off in only one city, Nalavia will test both the water and the chemical in the warehouse."

"You're right," said Dare. "The scheme will only work if it wears off for everyone before Nalavia realizes what has happened."

"And we must be ready to take advantage of it," Aurora added. "A few riots won't do any good. Nalavia will send her army to quell them, and replace the drugs. Once the people have their free will back, they must be informed of Nalavia's treachery."

"If we can take over the radio and video broadcasts," said Sdan, "the word will spread very fast."

"And be believed," said Aurora, "because people will feel the difference in themselves."

"Why not simply destroy the plants manufacturing Riatine?" Yar asked. "Nalavia would know at once, but surely she could not manufacture enough to poison all the cities' water again before everyone woke up."

"That's the ticket!" Barb agreed.

Rikan said, "Many Trevan people work in those manufacturing centers. I am sure most of them think they are making water purifier. Is there a way to destroy the plants without killing and injuring innocent people?"

"I doubt it," Dare replied.

"Even if we could, consider Nalavia's reaction," said Aurora. "She wouldn't wait for the rioting to start; she'd inst.i.tute martial law the moment she saw a danger of losing control."

"We must surprise her," Rikan agreed. "The plan to subst.i.tute something harmless for the Riatine seems best, if we can implement it."

"That's what you're paying us for," Dare replied. "Data, have you any records beyond the routes from the manufacturing plants to the water purification plants?"

Yar saw Data's head lift in the half-nod that said he did indeed. "I have the time schedules, including places where the drivers are exchanged, and where they stop for meals and fuel along the way. However ... " he stared at nothing as he cross-referenced, " ... possibly unbeknownst to the drivers, they are tracked by Nalavia's army units."

Unbeknownst? Yar was amused to hear Data doing his chameleon act, picking up the flavor of Dare's speech patterns.

"Tracked?" Dare asked. "How?"

"There are tracing devices in the trucks, by which a small armed escort makes certain the vehicles follow the route and schedule. Where there are no parallel roads, the escort follows at a discreet distance, or else flyers are used. The patterns vary-" The android frowned in momentary puzzlement. "Ah, I see why. They travel through the open countryside, where undrugged citizens might wonder at a military escort for what is purported to be water purifier. Therefore the method of escort changes frequently, parallel, following, preceding, troop carriers, single-person vehicles, flyers-apparently Nalavia hopes no pattern will be noticed."

"It works," said Aurora. "We've heard no suspicions. But now that we know-"

"I have the schedules for the next four days," said Data. "There was nothing beyond that in Nalavia's computer."

Dare grinned at him, no sarcasm this time. "That's enough-give us those schedules, and we'll figure out how to manage a subst.i.tution. Mr. Data, how would you fancy leaving Starfleet for a life of danger and excitement on the outer edge of the galaxy?"

Yar knew it was said jokingly, but Data replied solemnly, "I am afraid I would not ... fancy it at all."

One of the advantages of being an android was the ability to keep several ideas in one's consciousness at once, and many others within ready access. Data found in the next few hours that it was also a disadvantage.

Tasha seemed caught up in the hope of freeing Treva's city dwellers from the hypnotic chemical, forgetting that, even though they had a sort of trustee status, she and Data were prisoners here. Data could not forget who Darryl Adin really was, and that produced another, unantic.i.p.ated, problem: he liked the man.

Adin was the glue that bound his small coterie together, just as Jean-Luc Picard was for the crew of the Enterprise. Adin's role was more difficult than Picard's. Although his followers were few, they were even more diverse than the motley bridge crew Data served among, for they had no common loyalty to an ideal, such as Starfleet, to hold them together. In the course of that first day, Data heard them squabble interminably, but saw them work toward a common goal.

And through it all, nothing Adin did suggested that Data was less than a person. Only Geordi LaForge, of all the people Data knew, had accepted him so unquestioningly upon first acquaintance.

No, he suddenly realized, the warlord had done exactly the same thing. But Data had little contact with Rikan that day, while he and Adin worked side by side for hours.

Before time for dinner, they had a plan. Sdan and Poet left with some of Rikan's people to borrow vehicles from heavy transport companies in Rikan's territory. Barb and the Tellarites went off with a "shopping list" for containers, paint, and stencils. Jevsithian had long since left them, while others had drifted in and out all day. Now Aurora joined Data at the computer, along with Pris Shenkley, the weapons designer, to go over the plan step by step for possible hazards.

Data could not help being aware when Adin and Tasha stopped partic.i.p.ating, and then quietly left the strategy room together.

But he saw them again at dinner, his first meal since yesterday's luncheon with Nalavia. By this time his organic components were ready for a nutritional boost, and his curiosity led him to sample everything on the table. Rikan's board was as lavish as Nalavia's; if he had not had other things on his mind, Data could have spent his time contentedly a.n.a.lyzing the ingredients which contributed to the wide variety of flavors.

However, his consciousness was occupied with the dinnertime conversation, expansion of their plan to sabotage Nalavia, and watching Tasha and Adin.

Tasha was wearing the long gold dress again. Aurora was resplendent in crimson, Pris in pale blue. Rikan wore a richly-embroidered tunic and coat over a shirt with an elegant fall of white lace. Adin was in his usual black, with a white shirt and his silver emblem, while Data, when everyone had gone to "dress for dinner," had considered changing back into his uniform, which he found clean and neatly hung up in the room he had been a.s.signed.

However, remembering the clothes he had seen last night, he put on what seemed most formal of the garments Trell had given him: jacket and trousers of deep gray-green, with a gold shirt almost exactly the color of his eyes. Tasha had smiled and said, "You look gorgeous," when she first saw him, but Data would have felt more comfortable in his dress uniform. He wondered what had happened to Tasha's.

The entire small group adjourned to Rikan's parlor after dinner. Pris Shenkley sat down next to Data and struck up a conversation.

"Why do you not work for the Federation?" he asked her.

"Because they would take control of my work away from me," she replied. "It is true that the Federation now builds only defensive weapons, and eschews aggression. However, I prefer to use my talent where I can control who uses my weapons."

Data told her about the recent visit of the Enterprise to the planet Minos, and the weapon which had turned upon and destroyed its creators.

"Yes," she said, "I fear precisely that mentality. It is too easy to build better and better weapons, for no reason other than that one can do so. For Dare, I build precisely what is needed for a particular a.s.signment, not doomsday machines that compete only with themselves."

"And will you build something for this plot to replace the Riatine?"

"No; everyone is already equipped with a variety of weapons they are familiar with. I designed the defenses for Rikan's castle, however."

He tilted his head. "Did you design the net used to capture me?"

She blushed faintly. "Not design, exactly-but I suggested that you would probably not expect something so ... primitive. The net is actually a snare for a large Trevan animal. I thought it would be strong enough to hold you." She smiled. "I underestimated you. I didn't think it was possible to tear the strands of a quoghart net. If our people hadn't arrived quickly, you would have escaped."

She took one of his hands, turning it to study back and palm. "You are so strong ... and yet so gentle. Have you any idea how attractive that is?"

He almost said yes, as it seemed every woman he had ever been intimate with had made the same observation, but that observation reminded him to access his flirtation files, just in time. "That is ... my nature."

"Mmmm." She studied the palm of his hand. "You have fingerprints."

"Yes. And yes, they are unique, or at least not copied from those of anyone in Federation records."

"That's as it should be," she said softly. "You are unique."

Data was surprised to find Pris flirting with him, but had to access only the main directory of his flirtation files to keep up. She obviously had no desire to go beyond a pleasant verbal give-and-take, not surprising on one day's acquaintance.

Besides, Data discovered, he did not want to go further. He pondered that. He understood why he wished to interact with Nalavia as little and as impersonally as possible: the woman was evil. But Pris, like the rest of Adin's gang, had no criminal record that he had ever come across. Why should he be reluctant to function intimately with her, should she desire it? He was, after all, designed to function in a wide variety of capacities. Pris was nothing like Nalavia; she showed no deviousness or cynicism.

At the thought, his attention strayed to Darryl Adin, who tonight sat beside Tasha on the settee. Tasha seemed to spend all her time with Adin now. The man was obviously attempting to reawaken feelings Tasha had once had for him, to overwhelm her reason and devotion to duty with memories of a past that could never be recaptured.

Adin leaned closer to Tasha, and Data accessed his directional microphone to hear him murmur, "Let's go out onto the balcony." They excused themselves to Rikan, and went out into the moonlit night. Data could still see them through the gla.s.s doors, leaning against the bal.u.s.trade and looking out over the night-black chasm. Adin put his arm around Tasha's bare shoulders, and she leaned against him, nothing more.

During all of this, Data had let his flirtation file entertain Pris-until she chuckled. "You are cleverer at talking nonsense than any man I've ever met! Where did you learn it?"

Data checked the file he had been accessing. "A modern adaptation of techniques detailed in the works of Jane Austen," he replied honestly.

Pris laughed aloud. "Well, it is utterly charming, and if I didn't have to be up early tomorrow morning I might ask you just what other techniques you happen to know. But then, you won't be leaving us for a while. I hope we will have the chance to get to know one another better."

"That would please me as well," he replied, but did not volunteer the answer to the question she had not quite asked.

The parlor was clearing out now, in deference, it appeared, to Rikan. Data noticed the old warlord's slightly stiffened posture as he forced himself to sit up straight.

When Data looked back at the balcony, Tasha and Adin were gone. In moments he would be alone with Rikan ... forgotten.

Data had nothing to do for the night. There was no library computer, no science lab to visit to feed his voracious curiosity.

He would go down to the strategy room, he decided. Someone would certainly be there, and perhaps he would be allowed to explore what else was in that very fine computer.

But when he went to bid goodnight to Rikan, the old man asked, "Do you sleep, Mr. Data?"

"No, sir."

"Then will you do me a favor?"

"Certainly, sir, if I can."

"I am an old man. I don't suppose old age is something you will ever experience-but then neither will you have the pleasure of people indulging your whims simply because you are old." Rikan looked up at him, eyes still clear and sharp. "How old are you, Mr. Data?"

"Twenty-six Federation Standard Years, sir."

The warlord's eyes widened. "So young! Then you are just at the beginning of life's experience. But you have been many places among the stars, done more in those twenty-six years than I have in my long life."

"That may be true, sir, especially as I was ... created ... as an adult. On the other hand, I never had the experience of being a child."

"That is sad," said Rikan. "Childhood is the happiest of all times-or ought to be. But I am becoming forgetful. The favor I would ask is that you come to my room after Trell has helped me to bed. Although my body is tired, age robs me of the ability to sleep easily or well. Will you come and talk with me?"

"Gladly, sir."

So when Trell informed him Rikan was ready, Data went to the warlord's room, keeping in mind the servant's caution, "Please do not stay late. My lord needs to rest, for he will be up at dawn, no matter how few hours of sleep he has had."

Ensconced in the large bed, Rikan seemed smaller and frailer than in his usual stiff clothing. He was propped up against the pillows. "More wine?" he asked, pouring himself a gla.s.s and offering to do so for Data.

"No, thank you, sir. Alcohol has no effect on my metabolism. I have tasted your wines only to add to my experience of bouquets and flavors."

The warlord smiled. "You spend your life gathering data?"