Rollercoaster - The Point of No Return
Oct. 28th, 2009 10:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
r_scribblesHey! And, as it happens, I have more Rollercoaster for ye right now!
Set during Generations. Part 1 tonight, part 2 when I get chance - probably tomorrow.
ROLLERCOASTER
-x-
The Point of no Return
-x-
‘Yar.’
Tasha turned round to face the young man, clad in 18th Century Deckhand garb, who had just addressed her. ‘Can I help you?’
‘No,’ clarified the young Deckhand, ‘I was just saying “Yarrrrr”.’ He paused, the confidence speedily trickling from his expression as Tasha failed to comprehend. ‘You know… like a pirate?’
‘But we’re not being pirates,’ frowned Tasha, faintly. She indicated around the Holographic sailing ship. ‘This is supposed to be a British Navy vessel…’
The young man, now visibly cringing with the embarrassment of his joke having bombed, started backing away. ‘It doesn’t matter. Forget it. I’m just gonna… go into a corner and swab something…’
Tasha decided to put the poor kid out of his misery. ‘No, it’s OK. I get the joke. It’s just that it’s one that I’ve heard several times before, including five times so far today.’
‘Oh.’ The young man pulled an embarrassed smile. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine. I’m used to it.’
An excitable Engineer in britches and a plumed hat hurried past the pair with a loud ‘Yarrrr’.
‘Thank you, Geordi,’ sighed Tasha. She turned back to the young man. ‘See?’
The young man gave a slight, awkward laugh in reply.
Tasha folded her arms and regarded him with amusement. ‘Well, now I’m afraid it’s my turn to show my social ineptness,’ she declared, ‘and admit that I can’t remember your name or where I’ve seen you before.’
‘Morton Baker.’ Morton extended a hand for her to shake. ‘I’m a regular at the Prisoner’s Mok’Bara classes. Hence the invite to his promotion.’
‘That’ll be where I recognise you from,’ Tasha replied, shaking his hand.
‘And I’m always around in Ten Forward, of course,’ added Morton.
‘A social animal,’ noted Tasha, ‘or maybe you just can’t get enough of Guinan’s cocktails…?’
‘Well, both,’ admitted Morton, ‘but my main reason for being in the bar so much is because that’s where my job is.’
‘Oh. You work for Guinan. Of course.’
Morton shrugged. ‘We can’t all be interstellar superheroes, you know. Some of us want to see the universe but are only really any good at mixing martinis and waiting tables.’
‘Sounds fair enough,’ Tasha smiled. ‘So, how do you like the universe so far?’
‘I like it,’ Morton replied. ‘In fact, if I had to list my ten favourite infinitely vast, black vacuums of nothingness, the universe would definitely be in my top three.’
Tasha laughed. Off towards the bridge of their fake 18th Century ship, she heard the distinctive laugh of the Captain ringing out at the same moment. Tasha glanced across. There was a hum of organisation and activity around the Captain that suggested the ceremony would be starting soon. Indeed, Beverly Crusher was already beginning to make her way through the crowd of assembled guests, getting them into position.
‘We’re bringing Worf out in five minutes,’ the Doctor told her as she passed by.
‘Are you really going to make him walk the plank?’ Morton asked.
Beverly grinned. ‘It’s tradition.’
‘It’s a pretty big drop though,’ added Morton. ‘Won’t he get hurt?’
‘We have safety precautions galore,’ replied the Doctor. ‘He won’t even get a scratch.’
‘He’ll take that as an insult, you know,’ Tasha warned.
‘Well, I’m not going to let him take up valuable space in Sick Bay fusing his broken legs back together for the sake of Klingon Pride,’ Beverly retorted. ‘Anyway, we’ve asked Reg to make sure the water’s extra icy cold. That should take his mind off the fact we wilfully haven’t tried to kill him. It’s gonna be like swimming in the Arctic.’
‘Ouch,’ grinned Tasha.
‘I do not envy him his dip,’ added Beverly, heading off towards another group of guests. ‘Still, it’ll make Deanna smile, at least.’
Morton blinked at Tasha once the Doctor had left them. ‘I thought Counsellor Troi and Worf were still good friends…?’
‘Beverly’s just joking,’ Tasha replied. ‘Deanna’s fine about breaking up with Worf. There were just too many differences there. Apparently, she’s really enjoying the freedom of being single again.’
‘Yes,’ muttered Morton, suddenly rather interested in his own clasped hands, ‘the old dating game. I’m quite familiar with that, myself. Which brings me to my reason for so clumsily introducing myself in the first place…’
‘Ah,’ said Tasha.
‘I think you’re very pretty,’ Morton continued, ‘and I’d like to take you for coffee some time soon. I know just how you like it – goodness knows I’ve served it to you enough times.’
‘Oh,’ said Tasha.
Morton pulled a face. ‘It’s because I’m just a bartender, isn’t it?’
‘No! Not at all! It’s just…’ Tasha faltered. ‘You don’t want to get involved, Morton. It’s messy. I have a lot of emotional baggage, trust me.’
‘Who doesn’t? Look, I’m available, you’re available, so…’
‘That’s the thing, though. I am single, just… I’m not exactly “available”. I’m sort of in love with somebody already. And it screwed up the relationship I had with that guy, as well as screwing up the relationship prior to that …’
‘And that’s supposed to be because there’s something wrong with you?’ Morton asked. ‘How could anyone be adored by you and not love you back? That’s insane. Emotions or no emotions, it’s the saddest, most selfish waste of love I can imagine. You ask me, that android must have a circuit board or two loose…’
‘So you already know all about it?’
Morton shrugged. ‘I work at a bar. I hear about this sort of thing. And I think it’s tragic. You’re keeping your distance and waiting to see if he’ll ever be able to love you back. But he won’t, will he?’
Tasha gazed across the deck to where Data was making stilted small talk with a couple of Engineers. Same old Data. Always the same old Data. How long had he had that emotion chip locked away in his quarters now – a year? More, even? And how long would it be before he made up his mind about it – another year, perhaps, or a decade, or a century?
‘And in the meantime, you keep yourself alone,’ Morton continued, ‘waiting for a change that’ll never come, when there are guys like me who’d do anything to go on a date with you… it’s not right.’
‘I’d change how I feel if I could…’
‘Then go on a date with me,’ Morton demanded. ‘Get out of your rut. You might even surprise yourself by actually having a really good time without him.’
‘I have plenty of fun without him already,’ Tasha protested.
‘But not with a devilishly attractive young barman who can mix a Black Russian that’ll knock your socks off,’ grinned Morton.
Tasha smiled at his persistence, but still faltered.
‘One drink,’ continued Morton. ‘I can meet you straight after my shift at 2200. If you have a crummy time, you can go back to kicking the asses of every hostile alien race out there and I’ll go back to collecting empty glasses, and we’ll say no more about it. And if you have a good time… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me. What have you got to lose?’
‘If I say “yes”, will you shut the Hell up?’
‘I will silently punch the air in victory,’ Morton told her, seriously, ‘and say no more.’
‘Then, yes.’
Morton silently punched the air as the rattle of a drum indicated that Worf’s promotion ceremony was about to commence.
‘See you later,’ she called over her shoulder as she hurried up to where the other Officers were standing. As she passed Data she noticed that he was deep in the middle of a conversation with Geordi about minute flaws in the historical design of their holographic ship. He didn’t so much as make the briefest eye contact with her.
He hadn’t even noticed.
-x-
‘He didn’t.’
‘He did.’
Guinan turned her attention to Dr Crusher. ‘So, how cold was the water?’
‘Cold,’ glowered Beverly. ‘Reg did a sterling job on that damned ocean. I think I might start getting the feeling back in my toes by next week.’
‘Told you that android was clueless,’ added Morton from the other end of the bar.
‘Mr Baker, it isn’t 2200,’ Guinan reminded the young barman. ‘You’re not on your date yet – you’re still on my time, and there’s still a table of four waiting for your famously delightful Flumberry Surprise, so I suggest you get back to work.’
Morton leaned playfully across the bar. ‘You’re a slave driver, Guinan.’
‘I’m the best damn employer you ever had, and you know it.’
‘Why do you have to be right about everything?’ Morton called back at her as he turned his attention back to his work.
‘He hasn’t even apologised for it in person,’ continued Beverly with a sigh.
‘I think he’s still feeling pretty sheepish about the whole thing,’ Tasha replied. ‘He certainly left the Holodeck with his tail behind his legs.’
‘He doesn’t feel sheepish,’ Beverly grumbled, ‘and he doesn’t have a tail.’
‘Hmm,’ muttered Tasha. ‘There’s been something up with him ever since.’
Reg Barclay sidled into the conversation. ‘Up with who?’
‘Data,’ chorused the three women.
‘Oh,’ Reg replied, with a hint of disappointment, ‘has he been in already?’
‘No,’ Guinan told him. ‘We think he might be steering clear of the good Doctor for a while.
This seemed to cheer Barclay up. ‘I haven’t missed him, then? I have to admit, I’m very curious to see the results…’
‘What results?’ Tasha asked. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The new, improved Data,’ Reg informed her, brightly.
Tasha scoffed a little. ‘He’s not growing a beard again, is he?’
‘No.’ Reg frowned slightly. ‘You don’t know? He’s finally decided to install his emotion chip.’
Tasha had chosen the wrong moment to be halfway through a sip of coffee. She spluttered, sending a few drops of the piping hot liquid into her windpipe, causing her to cough inelegantly. ‘What?’ she gasped, feeling as though her stomach was rapidly plunging out of her body and through the floor to land in a wet, trembling heap a few decks below.
‘Commander La Forge took the end of his shift off to help him with it,’ Reg confirmed. ‘They were planning on coming to Ten Forward if the procedure had been a success.’
‘Emotions?’ Tasha coughed, ‘Data? Here? Tonight?’
‘Yes, that’s the gist of what I said.’
‘But he can’t,’ panicked Tasha. ‘Not tonight. I made a date…’
Dr Crusher shrugged, sympathetically. ‘You know what Data’s like when he’s set on an idea.’
‘He didn’t even tell me.’ Tasha rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘This is so typical. For a man with an internal chronometer, he has the most rotten timing I’ve ever known.’
‘Does it really matter if you’re seeing Morton tonight?’ Guinan asked. ‘You and Data split up almost two years ago.’
‘Only because he had no emotions and couldn’t love me,’ Tasha replied. ‘But now…? I don’t know what’s going to happen.’
‘Well,’ said Guinan, ‘whatever does happen is gonna do so pretty soon.’
The Bartender nodded over to the door, where Geordi and Data were walking in. For a moment, the two friends looked to Tasha like small children making their debut in a school play. Geordi wore an odd mix of excitement and great anxiety on his expression. Data had the visage of a three-year-old, drunk on bright lights, loud noises and far too much sugar. From the look on his face, every single stimulus seemed to astound and delight him. Tasha felt the tiniest pang of relief that the android was not the ball of rage and resentment that he had been when Lore had fed emotion into him, but that relief was almost entirely swallowed up by a horrible feeling of unfamiliarity. This beaming person wasn’t her Data. It was wrong – all wrong.
The pair spotted the group at the bar and headed straight over. Tasha concentrated on her coffee cup as they approached. Data made a beeline for Beverly.
‘Dr Crusher,’ he announced, gleefully. ‘I am sincerely sorry for pushing you at Worf’s promotion ceremony.’
‘You look it,’ replied Beverly, dryly.
‘Do I?’ Grinned Data, oblivious to the doctor’s sarcasm. ‘Lieutenant Barclay may have already informed you – my inappropriate action was the final impetus I needed to persuade me that I should activate the emotion chip that my creator bequeathed to me. Ergo, I am indeed now capable of feeling sorrow for pushing you. Which, in turn, makes me very, very happy indeed. Ha!’
‘Well,’ muttered Beverly, ‘I suppose a plummet and a freezing dip’s not too big a sacrifice if it helped you realise one of your greatest wishes. Congratulations, Data.’
‘Thank you!’ He turned his attention to the rest of the group. ‘Lieutenant Barclay – Guinan – seeing you both invokes warm feelings of fond friendship. It is a most pleasant sensation, and one that I hope to repeat indefinitely.’
‘Nice to see you too, Data,’ replied Guinan, graciously, ‘and you, Geordi.’
‘Is he not wonderful?’ continued Data, like a relentless torrent of giddy enthusiasm. He wrapped a slightly-too-tight arm around his friend. ‘Who could possibly not love this man? He is my best friend – my very best friend.’
‘Thanks, Data,’ mumbled Geordi – from the tone of his voice, this was not the first time that evening that Data had eulogised about their friendship.
‘You are fantastic. May I kiss you?’
‘For the last time, no.’
‘Platonically – not on the lips.’
‘No!’
‘Very well. Tasha!’
Tasha looked up, startled out of her contemplations by his sudden acknowledgement of her presence. ‘I won’t kiss you, either.’
His expression managed to convey his confusion without affecting the perma-grin plastered on his mouth.
‘Not tonight, anyway,’ Tasha continued, hurriedly, ‘I have a date. In fact, I know I said that we could review our relationship if you ever became capable of emotions, and see if we could move on again without that wall there, but maybe for the time being I…’
‘A date?’ asked Data, his smile frozen. ‘A romantic date?’
‘Yes,’ Tasha replied, ‘and I don’t really want to break it…’
‘Is she telling the truth?’ Data asked the rest of the group, matter-of-factly.
‘Of course she is,’ Beverly replied. ‘Why would you even have to ask?’
Data focused back on Tasha. ‘Are you going to have sex with him?’
‘What?’ chorused several members of the group, including Tasha.
‘It is a fairly simple “yes or no” question. Do you intend to have sexual intercourse with this individual?’
‘Oh dear lord,’ Tasha groaned, ‘you’re jealous.’
‘Was that not your intention?’
‘No! Morton asked me out…’
‘Morton Baker?’ Enquired Data, with an odd glance in the direction of the worried-looking barman.
‘He’s allowed! And the only reason I said yes was because I was getting a little tired of seeing if you were ever going to change after two long years…’
‘If I was going to change?’ repeated Data, the grin still stuck hollowly to his face. ‘Did you not declare that you loved me as I was, and did not require me to change?’
‘I…’
‘And, I certainly do not recall you suggesting our romantic relationship could be resumed were I to become capable of emotions.’
‘I’m sure I did,’ Tasha protested. ‘I mean, that was always what I’d hoped, and…’
‘Have sex with him.’
‘Data!’
‘Have sex with Morton Baker,’ continued Data, loudly. ‘You have my blessing.’
At the other end of the bar, Morton Baker looked as though he wanted the floor to swallow him up.
‘Calm down Data,’ warned Geordi. ‘Tasha’s free to do whatever she likes.’
‘She told me that she was in love with me,’ Data replied, pointing an accusatory finger, ‘and now she is fornicating with other men because I could not change to fit requirements that she had not informed me of…’
‘I’m not fornicating with anyone,’ Tasha protested. ‘If this date is upsetting you so much, I’ll cancel it. Is that better?’
‘Hey,’ complained Morton, quietly, but the escalating argument had too much momentum now to be halted by his wounded feelings.
‘Whatever plans you made with Mr Baker – insubstantial though they now seem to be – are not the issue,’ Data retorted, ‘more a symptom of what, as you put it, “upsets” me.’
‘I don’t know what you mean…’
‘You do not know?’ Data’s voice was starting to reach a volume level that she hadn’t been aware he was capable of. ‘Have you recently forgotten the last seven years? You begged me for sexual intercourse, suggesting that I was somehow special, that I could heal the wounds of your past, you infected me with the Tsiolkovsky virus and then shunned me outright as a lover and, for some time afterwards, as a friend, with no explanation regarding your reasoning. The year after that, again you desperately demanded intercourse and again announced that our coupling was embarrassing to you and should remain a secret. You hounded your subordinate Jenna D’Sora when I was briefly involved with her and broke a gift that she had given me in a fit of pique. You lied to me on the day of my daughter’s death, making me believe that you had watched your sister die when she was in actuality still alive. Over the years you have ridiculed me; teased me; scorned me; taken my gestures of camaraderie for granted and shown jealous possessiveness over my personal life while simultaneously rejecting soundly any offer of monogamy. When we finally did attempt a relationship, even though you knew I was incapable of emotion, even though I had warned you of my romantic limitations, still you demanded of me what I could not provide, and so you rejected me. Again!’
‘That wasn’t a rejection, Data,’ attempted Tasha. ‘I couldn’t stay with you because I’d fallen in love with you…’
‘Do you have any idea how demented that sounds?’ Data interrupted. ‘When you make that statement aloud, does it hold any logic for you, because it does not to me. And for the years after that, as you moped about your lot and continued to remind me how tragically enamoured with me you were, I began to wonder what I was doing wrong. You even fretted about versions of our relationship as witnessed in alternate dimensions, as though there was something that perhaps I could do to alter those! And, influenced by you, I began to obsess, began to over-analyse every action and reaction between the two of us, because I could see that you were unhappy, and I felt that that was my fault. When I was under Lore’s control and found myself despising you, I was concerned. Again, I believed that to be a failing on my part. Had I not come to the conclusion that those bitter feelings were part of Lore’s manipulation I would never have made the decision to install the emotion chip…’
‘Yeah,’ interjected Guinan, taken aback at the android’s rant, ‘what a good job you haven’t turned out all bitter and angry this time round…’
‘But you see,’ continued Data, ‘I understand now. The anger did not stem from me, or even, in your case, from my brother. It was you, Tasha. It was every instance that you have used me; lied to me; belittled me; confounded me; coveted me… So do, feel free to have sex with Morton Baker. It is no concern of mine. All that I ask of you, Tasha, is that you cease viewing me as your emotional property by default. Stop imagining that I would love you if I could. Because I can now love, but I do not love you. I do not even like you.’
Tasha felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. She was surprised to find, however, that it wasn’t crushing disappointment or sadness that she automatically felt at hearing his words so much as a growing fury. How typical of him to throw slights that were years old back in her face as though they’d happened yesterday, and how like him to forget any sort of social etiquette and humiliatingly air their dirty laundry in the bar, in front of their friends. And after all the times she’d been there for him, it was still the negatives of their relationship that he chose to concentrate on? For heaven’s sake…
‘Cool it, Data’ Geordi advised. ‘You’ve only been experiencing emotions for a matter of minutes – maybe you should think things through before you start opening up old wounds with ex girlfriends…?’
Data cast his friend a sideways glance, the anger that had risen in his eyes as he’d berated Tasha not subsiding.
‘We had just located and reactivated my identical brother,’ Data reminded Geordi with an odd calm. ‘Suddenly, I seemed to be behaving utterly uncharacteristically – in a manner, in fact, much like that Lore had initially exhibited, while my apparent counterpart lay inexplicably comatose and damaged in my quarters, and therefore incapable of confirming his identity. Did it not occur to any of my closest friends – the very elite of Starfleet – that maybe… just maybe, androids were capable of SWITCHING CLOTHES?!?’
Data’s tone had grown so thunderous by the end of his sentence that it brought the whole bar to an awkward silence. Geordi didn’t answer, but gazed at his friend, agog.
‘That was a very long time ago, Data,’ Beverly told him, quietly.
‘And thank you so much for keeping my off-switch a secret as I requested, Doctor,’ replied Data with a childishly crude sarcasm. ‘Can you imagine how thrilled I was when Commander Riker just sidled up behind me and switched me off in the middle of my tribunal – unexpectedly, in public? That was exciting!’
‘Hey,’ protested the Doctor, ‘it wasn’t me who made that common knowledge, it was Lore… you know… when we all thought he was… when he told us he was…’ Beverly blinked. ‘You just threw me off a boat. I refuse to defend myself to you.’
‘May I make an observation?’ Guinan asked, ‘or do you still have people you want to give a ticking off to?’
‘Many,’ replied Data. ‘However, I have no quarrel with you, Guinan. Please – continue.’
‘I’ve seen this happen before,’ Guinan told him. ‘With Vulcans that have started losing their marbles. A whole lifetime’s worth of anger starts coming outta them in lumps. It’s really quite dangerous for people who aren’t used to emoting…’
‘I was decapitated in the act of saving your life,’ interrupted Data, testily, ‘and as a result have a head that is half a millennium older than the rest of me. Things died in my nasal cavities, and did you ever thank me?’
‘I thought you had no quarrel with me.’
‘Well, it appears that I have found one.’
‘C’mon, Data,’ Tasha sighed, still trying to control her own irritation. ‘Don’t bring your friends into this. It’s me you’re really angry at.’
‘How right you are,’ replied Data, turning back to her, ‘and yet, you still appear surprised at my reaction.’
‘Not surprised,’ Tasha told him. ‘I’m disappointed, but mainly…’
‘Disappointed?’ Data aped. ‘Did you hope that I would profess undying love for you and fall into your arms simply because of a brief monogamous relationship and a handful of ill-advised casual sexual encounters? Are you so narcissistic to believe that your seductive powers are that strong?’
‘I just thought that maybe I meant something to you. Something special.’
‘Well, besides being especially infuriating to me, you are not. You are a cold, unfeminine, antisocial, overcompensating neurotic, whom I occasionally indulged sexually because I was not programmed to discriminate when it came to sexual partners.’
Tasha scoffed a little, her annoyance at his protestations growing. ‘You didn’t seem so indifferent in the Turbolift…’
‘You had sex in the Turbolift?’ Beverly interrupted. ‘Yuck!’
‘That does not count!’ Data exclaimed, jabbing a finger at her. ‘I was only ever pandering to your lusts, but not any more.’ He turned to go, then turned back again suddenly, hit with a victorious thought. ‘And I faked every orgasm.’
Something inside Tasha snapped. ‘Well, of course you did. You’re a robot.’
Data didn’t look away from her eyes. She didn’t even see his hand, it was so fast as he grabbed the nearest glass to hand and threw the contents of it in Tasha’s face. Tasha gasped a little in shock as the cold, faintly stinging liquid hit her in the nose and eyes.
‘What the Hell…?’
‘That was my tonic water,’ Dr Crusher complained, but Data had already turned and started pushing his way towards Ten Forward’s exit.
‘I’ll get you another one,’ Guinan placated, handing Tasha a cloth to dry her face.
Tasha accepted the cloth, now utterly livid. ‘He threw a drink at me! No one’s ever thrown a drink at me before…’
‘Well, as drinks to the face go,’ replied Geordi vacantly, watching Data’s now decidedly wobbly exit with concern, ‘quinine’s no biggie. It’s cold, it’s clear… I once saw someone get a jug of piping hot lobster bisque thrown on him… excuse me…’
Data had missed the door and was now walking sideways towards a table of Stellar Cartographers. Geordi darted away from the bar and hurried towards his increasingly crablike friend. The Engineer wasn’t fast enough, however, and one hundred kilograms of android suddenly went as stiff and immobile as a board, lost his centre of gravity and came crashing down into the table amidst a cacophony of broken glass and surprised screeches.
Drenched though she was, Tasha got to her feet automatically and started to approach the collapsed table, where Geordi was already squatting, trying to lift his friend out of the pool of fractured glasses that his fall had created. Tasha had to admit that she was relieved to see Data begin to pull himself upright, blinking a little groggily at his surroundings.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Geordi. ‘What happened?’
‘A minor overload,’ Data explained after spitting out a mouthful of smashed crockery and half a teaspoon. ‘I am fine.’
‘Data,’ worried Geordi, ‘I think you should take it easy with the emotions for a while. We don’t want…’
‘I am fine,’ Data insisted. He caught Tasha’s eye for a split second, then pushed himself upright, dusted himself down and made as dignified an exit as possible, with Geordi in pursuit, still protesting.
Tasha skulked back to the bar. ‘It was Will, wasn’t it?’
‘Hmm?’ muttered Guinan, fetching Beverly a fresh drink.
‘The bisque guy. It was Will Riker.’
‘No comment,’ replied Guinan, in a tone that implied “you’re right, but I’ll be damned if I’m telling you”.
Tasha tried to take her seat, but Morton was already mopping up the spilled drink from it with a cloth.
‘Let me do that,’ she offered.
‘Why?’ Morton didn’t even look up at her. ‘You wouldn’t catch me offering to fire torpedoes for you. You do your job, Commander, I’ll do mine.’
‘OK.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry, Morton. But I did warn you…’
‘There‘s a difference between having baggage and just dropping somebody you’d made arrangements with like a piece of trash,’ Morton told her. ‘That’s just plain rude. In fact, the only reason I haven’t thrown a drink at you myself is that I know it’d be me who’d have to clean it up again.’
Tasha sighed deeply to herself as the enraged Barman cleaned up the mess. ‘Well, that went about as well as could have been expected.’
Set during Generations. Part 1 tonight, part 2 when I get chance - probably tomorrow.
ROLLERCOASTER
-x-
The Point of no Return
-x-
‘Yar.’
Tasha turned round to face the young man, clad in 18th Century Deckhand garb, who had just addressed her. ‘Can I help you?’
‘No,’ clarified the young Deckhand, ‘I was just saying “Yarrrrr”.’ He paused, the confidence speedily trickling from his expression as Tasha failed to comprehend. ‘You know… like a pirate?’
‘But we’re not being pirates,’ frowned Tasha, faintly. She indicated around the Holographic sailing ship. ‘This is supposed to be a British Navy vessel…’
The young man, now visibly cringing with the embarrassment of his joke having bombed, started backing away. ‘It doesn’t matter. Forget it. I’m just gonna… go into a corner and swab something…’
Tasha decided to put the poor kid out of his misery. ‘No, it’s OK. I get the joke. It’s just that it’s one that I’ve heard several times before, including five times so far today.’
‘Oh.’ The young man pulled an embarrassed smile. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine. I’m used to it.’
An excitable Engineer in britches and a plumed hat hurried past the pair with a loud ‘Yarrrr’.
‘Thank you, Geordi,’ sighed Tasha. She turned back to the young man. ‘See?’
The young man gave a slight, awkward laugh in reply.
Tasha folded her arms and regarded him with amusement. ‘Well, now I’m afraid it’s my turn to show my social ineptness,’ she declared, ‘and admit that I can’t remember your name or where I’ve seen you before.’
‘Morton Baker.’ Morton extended a hand for her to shake. ‘I’m a regular at the Prisoner’s Mok’Bara classes. Hence the invite to his promotion.’
‘That’ll be where I recognise you from,’ Tasha replied, shaking his hand.
‘And I’m always around in Ten Forward, of course,’ added Morton.
‘A social animal,’ noted Tasha, ‘or maybe you just can’t get enough of Guinan’s cocktails…?’
‘Well, both,’ admitted Morton, ‘but my main reason for being in the bar so much is because that’s where my job is.’
‘Oh. You work for Guinan. Of course.’
Morton shrugged. ‘We can’t all be interstellar superheroes, you know. Some of us want to see the universe but are only really any good at mixing martinis and waiting tables.’
‘Sounds fair enough,’ Tasha smiled. ‘So, how do you like the universe so far?’
‘I like it,’ Morton replied. ‘In fact, if I had to list my ten favourite infinitely vast, black vacuums of nothingness, the universe would definitely be in my top three.’
Tasha laughed. Off towards the bridge of their fake 18th Century ship, she heard the distinctive laugh of the Captain ringing out at the same moment. Tasha glanced across. There was a hum of organisation and activity around the Captain that suggested the ceremony would be starting soon. Indeed, Beverly Crusher was already beginning to make her way through the crowd of assembled guests, getting them into position.
‘We’re bringing Worf out in five minutes,’ the Doctor told her as she passed by.
‘Are you really going to make him walk the plank?’ Morton asked.
Beverly grinned. ‘It’s tradition.’
‘It’s a pretty big drop though,’ added Morton. ‘Won’t he get hurt?’
‘We have safety precautions galore,’ replied the Doctor. ‘He won’t even get a scratch.’
‘He’ll take that as an insult, you know,’ Tasha warned.
‘Well, I’m not going to let him take up valuable space in Sick Bay fusing his broken legs back together for the sake of Klingon Pride,’ Beverly retorted. ‘Anyway, we’ve asked Reg to make sure the water’s extra icy cold. That should take his mind off the fact we wilfully haven’t tried to kill him. It’s gonna be like swimming in the Arctic.’
‘Ouch,’ grinned Tasha.
‘I do not envy him his dip,’ added Beverly, heading off towards another group of guests. ‘Still, it’ll make Deanna smile, at least.’
Morton blinked at Tasha once the Doctor had left them. ‘I thought Counsellor Troi and Worf were still good friends…?’
‘Beverly’s just joking,’ Tasha replied. ‘Deanna’s fine about breaking up with Worf. There were just too many differences there. Apparently, she’s really enjoying the freedom of being single again.’
‘Yes,’ muttered Morton, suddenly rather interested in his own clasped hands, ‘the old dating game. I’m quite familiar with that, myself. Which brings me to my reason for so clumsily introducing myself in the first place…’
‘Ah,’ said Tasha.
‘I think you’re very pretty,’ Morton continued, ‘and I’d like to take you for coffee some time soon. I know just how you like it – goodness knows I’ve served it to you enough times.’
‘Oh,’ said Tasha.
Morton pulled a face. ‘It’s because I’m just a bartender, isn’t it?’
‘No! Not at all! It’s just…’ Tasha faltered. ‘You don’t want to get involved, Morton. It’s messy. I have a lot of emotional baggage, trust me.’
‘Who doesn’t? Look, I’m available, you’re available, so…’
‘That’s the thing, though. I am single, just… I’m not exactly “available”. I’m sort of in love with somebody already. And it screwed up the relationship I had with that guy, as well as screwing up the relationship prior to that …’
‘And that’s supposed to be because there’s something wrong with you?’ Morton asked. ‘How could anyone be adored by you and not love you back? That’s insane. Emotions or no emotions, it’s the saddest, most selfish waste of love I can imagine. You ask me, that android must have a circuit board or two loose…’
‘So you already know all about it?’
Morton shrugged. ‘I work at a bar. I hear about this sort of thing. And I think it’s tragic. You’re keeping your distance and waiting to see if he’ll ever be able to love you back. But he won’t, will he?’
Tasha gazed across the deck to where Data was making stilted small talk with a couple of Engineers. Same old Data. Always the same old Data. How long had he had that emotion chip locked away in his quarters now – a year? More, even? And how long would it be before he made up his mind about it – another year, perhaps, or a decade, or a century?
‘And in the meantime, you keep yourself alone,’ Morton continued, ‘waiting for a change that’ll never come, when there are guys like me who’d do anything to go on a date with you… it’s not right.’
‘I’d change how I feel if I could…’
‘Then go on a date with me,’ Morton demanded. ‘Get out of your rut. You might even surprise yourself by actually having a really good time without him.’
‘I have plenty of fun without him already,’ Tasha protested.
‘But not with a devilishly attractive young barman who can mix a Black Russian that’ll knock your socks off,’ grinned Morton.
Tasha smiled at his persistence, but still faltered.
‘One drink,’ continued Morton. ‘I can meet you straight after my shift at 2200. If you have a crummy time, you can go back to kicking the asses of every hostile alien race out there and I’ll go back to collecting empty glasses, and we’ll say no more about it. And if you have a good time… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me. What have you got to lose?’
‘If I say “yes”, will you shut the Hell up?’
‘I will silently punch the air in victory,’ Morton told her, seriously, ‘and say no more.’
‘Then, yes.’
Morton silently punched the air as the rattle of a drum indicated that Worf’s promotion ceremony was about to commence.
‘See you later,’ she called over her shoulder as she hurried up to where the other Officers were standing. As she passed Data she noticed that he was deep in the middle of a conversation with Geordi about minute flaws in the historical design of their holographic ship. He didn’t so much as make the briefest eye contact with her.
He hadn’t even noticed.
-x-
‘He didn’t.’
‘He did.’
Guinan turned her attention to Dr Crusher. ‘So, how cold was the water?’
‘Cold,’ glowered Beverly. ‘Reg did a sterling job on that damned ocean. I think I might start getting the feeling back in my toes by next week.’
‘Told you that android was clueless,’ added Morton from the other end of the bar.
‘Mr Baker, it isn’t 2200,’ Guinan reminded the young barman. ‘You’re not on your date yet – you’re still on my time, and there’s still a table of four waiting for your famously delightful Flumberry Surprise, so I suggest you get back to work.’
Morton leaned playfully across the bar. ‘You’re a slave driver, Guinan.’
‘I’m the best damn employer you ever had, and you know it.’
‘Why do you have to be right about everything?’ Morton called back at her as he turned his attention back to his work.
‘He hasn’t even apologised for it in person,’ continued Beverly with a sigh.
‘I think he’s still feeling pretty sheepish about the whole thing,’ Tasha replied. ‘He certainly left the Holodeck with his tail behind his legs.’
‘He doesn’t feel sheepish,’ Beverly grumbled, ‘and he doesn’t have a tail.’
‘Hmm,’ muttered Tasha. ‘There’s been something up with him ever since.’
Reg Barclay sidled into the conversation. ‘Up with who?’
‘Data,’ chorused the three women.
‘Oh,’ Reg replied, with a hint of disappointment, ‘has he been in already?’
‘No,’ Guinan told him. ‘We think he might be steering clear of the good Doctor for a while.
This seemed to cheer Barclay up. ‘I haven’t missed him, then? I have to admit, I’m very curious to see the results…’
‘What results?’ Tasha asked. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The new, improved Data,’ Reg informed her, brightly.
Tasha scoffed a little. ‘He’s not growing a beard again, is he?’
‘No.’ Reg frowned slightly. ‘You don’t know? He’s finally decided to install his emotion chip.’
Tasha had chosen the wrong moment to be halfway through a sip of coffee. She spluttered, sending a few drops of the piping hot liquid into her windpipe, causing her to cough inelegantly. ‘What?’ she gasped, feeling as though her stomach was rapidly plunging out of her body and through the floor to land in a wet, trembling heap a few decks below.
‘Commander La Forge took the end of his shift off to help him with it,’ Reg confirmed. ‘They were planning on coming to Ten Forward if the procedure had been a success.’
‘Emotions?’ Tasha coughed, ‘Data? Here? Tonight?’
‘Yes, that’s the gist of what I said.’
‘But he can’t,’ panicked Tasha. ‘Not tonight. I made a date…’
Dr Crusher shrugged, sympathetically. ‘You know what Data’s like when he’s set on an idea.’
‘He didn’t even tell me.’ Tasha rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘This is so typical. For a man with an internal chronometer, he has the most rotten timing I’ve ever known.’
‘Does it really matter if you’re seeing Morton tonight?’ Guinan asked. ‘You and Data split up almost two years ago.’
‘Only because he had no emotions and couldn’t love me,’ Tasha replied. ‘But now…? I don’t know what’s going to happen.’
‘Well,’ said Guinan, ‘whatever does happen is gonna do so pretty soon.’
The Bartender nodded over to the door, where Geordi and Data were walking in. For a moment, the two friends looked to Tasha like small children making their debut in a school play. Geordi wore an odd mix of excitement and great anxiety on his expression. Data had the visage of a three-year-old, drunk on bright lights, loud noises and far too much sugar. From the look on his face, every single stimulus seemed to astound and delight him. Tasha felt the tiniest pang of relief that the android was not the ball of rage and resentment that he had been when Lore had fed emotion into him, but that relief was almost entirely swallowed up by a horrible feeling of unfamiliarity. This beaming person wasn’t her Data. It was wrong – all wrong.
The pair spotted the group at the bar and headed straight over. Tasha concentrated on her coffee cup as they approached. Data made a beeline for Beverly.
‘Dr Crusher,’ he announced, gleefully. ‘I am sincerely sorry for pushing you at Worf’s promotion ceremony.’
‘You look it,’ replied Beverly, dryly.
‘Do I?’ Grinned Data, oblivious to the doctor’s sarcasm. ‘Lieutenant Barclay may have already informed you – my inappropriate action was the final impetus I needed to persuade me that I should activate the emotion chip that my creator bequeathed to me. Ergo, I am indeed now capable of feeling sorrow for pushing you. Which, in turn, makes me very, very happy indeed. Ha!’
‘Well,’ muttered Beverly, ‘I suppose a plummet and a freezing dip’s not too big a sacrifice if it helped you realise one of your greatest wishes. Congratulations, Data.’
‘Thank you!’ He turned his attention to the rest of the group. ‘Lieutenant Barclay – Guinan – seeing you both invokes warm feelings of fond friendship. It is a most pleasant sensation, and one that I hope to repeat indefinitely.’
‘Nice to see you too, Data,’ replied Guinan, graciously, ‘and you, Geordi.’
‘Is he not wonderful?’ continued Data, like a relentless torrent of giddy enthusiasm. He wrapped a slightly-too-tight arm around his friend. ‘Who could possibly not love this man? He is my best friend – my very best friend.’
‘Thanks, Data,’ mumbled Geordi – from the tone of his voice, this was not the first time that evening that Data had eulogised about their friendship.
‘You are fantastic. May I kiss you?’
‘For the last time, no.’
‘Platonically – not on the lips.’
‘No!’
‘Very well. Tasha!’
Tasha looked up, startled out of her contemplations by his sudden acknowledgement of her presence. ‘I won’t kiss you, either.’
His expression managed to convey his confusion without affecting the perma-grin plastered on his mouth.
‘Not tonight, anyway,’ Tasha continued, hurriedly, ‘I have a date. In fact, I know I said that we could review our relationship if you ever became capable of emotions, and see if we could move on again without that wall there, but maybe for the time being I…’
‘A date?’ asked Data, his smile frozen. ‘A romantic date?’
‘Yes,’ Tasha replied, ‘and I don’t really want to break it…’
‘Is she telling the truth?’ Data asked the rest of the group, matter-of-factly.
‘Of course she is,’ Beverly replied. ‘Why would you even have to ask?’
Data focused back on Tasha. ‘Are you going to have sex with him?’
‘What?’ chorused several members of the group, including Tasha.
‘It is a fairly simple “yes or no” question. Do you intend to have sexual intercourse with this individual?’
‘Oh dear lord,’ Tasha groaned, ‘you’re jealous.’
‘Was that not your intention?’
‘No! Morton asked me out…’
‘Morton Baker?’ Enquired Data, with an odd glance in the direction of the worried-looking barman.
‘He’s allowed! And the only reason I said yes was because I was getting a little tired of seeing if you were ever going to change after two long years…’
‘If I was going to change?’ repeated Data, the grin still stuck hollowly to his face. ‘Did you not declare that you loved me as I was, and did not require me to change?’
‘I…’
‘And, I certainly do not recall you suggesting our romantic relationship could be resumed were I to become capable of emotions.’
‘I’m sure I did,’ Tasha protested. ‘I mean, that was always what I’d hoped, and…’
‘Have sex with him.’
‘Data!’
‘Have sex with Morton Baker,’ continued Data, loudly. ‘You have my blessing.’
At the other end of the bar, Morton Baker looked as though he wanted the floor to swallow him up.
‘Calm down Data,’ warned Geordi. ‘Tasha’s free to do whatever she likes.’
‘She told me that she was in love with me,’ Data replied, pointing an accusatory finger, ‘and now she is fornicating with other men because I could not change to fit requirements that she had not informed me of…’
‘I’m not fornicating with anyone,’ Tasha protested. ‘If this date is upsetting you so much, I’ll cancel it. Is that better?’
‘Hey,’ complained Morton, quietly, but the escalating argument had too much momentum now to be halted by his wounded feelings.
‘Whatever plans you made with Mr Baker – insubstantial though they now seem to be – are not the issue,’ Data retorted, ‘more a symptom of what, as you put it, “upsets” me.’
‘I don’t know what you mean…’
‘You do not know?’ Data’s voice was starting to reach a volume level that she hadn’t been aware he was capable of. ‘Have you recently forgotten the last seven years? You begged me for sexual intercourse, suggesting that I was somehow special, that I could heal the wounds of your past, you infected me with the Tsiolkovsky virus and then shunned me outright as a lover and, for some time afterwards, as a friend, with no explanation regarding your reasoning. The year after that, again you desperately demanded intercourse and again announced that our coupling was embarrassing to you and should remain a secret. You hounded your subordinate Jenna D’Sora when I was briefly involved with her and broke a gift that she had given me in a fit of pique. You lied to me on the day of my daughter’s death, making me believe that you had watched your sister die when she was in actuality still alive. Over the years you have ridiculed me; teased me; scorned me; taken my gestures of camaraderie for granted and shown jealous possessiveness over my personal life while simultaneously rejecting soundly any offer of monogamy. When we finally did attempt a relationship, even though you knew I was incapable of emotion, even though I had warned you of my romantic limitations, still you demanded of me what I could not provide, and so you rejected me. Again!’
‘That wasn’t a rejection, Data,’ attempted Tasha. ‘I couldn’t stay with you because I’d fallen in love with you…’
‘Do you have any idea how demented that sounds?’ Data interrupted. ‘When you make that statement aloud, does it hold any logic for you, because it does not to me. And for the years after that, as you moped about your lot and continued to remind me how tragically enamoured with me you were, I began to wonder what I was doing wrong. You even fretted about versions of our relationship as witnessed in alternate dimensions, as though there was something that perhaps I could do to alter those! And, influenced by you, I began to obsess, began to over-analyse every action and reaction between the two of us, because I could see that you were unhappy, and I felt that that was my fault. When I was under Lore’s control and found myself despising you, I was concerned. Again, I believed that to be a failing on my part. Had I not come to the conclusion that those bitter feelings were part of Lore’s manipulation I would never have made the decision to install the emotion chip…’
‘Yeah,’ interjected Guinan, taken aback at the android’s rant, ‘what a good job you haven’t turned out all bitter and angry this time round…’
‘But you see,’ continued Data, ‘I understand now. The anger did not stem from me, or even, in your case, from my brother. It was you, Tasha. It was every instance that you have used me; lied to me; belittled me; confounded me; coveted me… So do, feel free to have sex with Morton Baker. It is no concern of mine. All that I ask of you, Tasha, is that you cease viewing me as your emotional property by default. Stop imagining that I would love you if I could. Because I can now love, but I do not love you. I do not even like you.’
Tasha felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. She was surprised to find, however, that it wasn’t crushing disappointment or sadness that she automatically felt at hearing his words so much as a growing fury. How typical of him to throw slights that were years old back in her face as though they’d happened yesterday, and how like him to forget any sort of social etiquette and humiliatingly air their dirty laundry in the bar, in front of their friends. And after all the times she’d been there for him, it was still the negatives of their relationship that he chose to concentrate on? For heaven’s sake…
‘Cool it, Data’ Geordi advised. ‘You’ve only been experiencing emotions for a matter of minutes – maybe you should think things through before you start opening up old wounds with ex girlfriends…?’
Data cast his friend a sideways glance, the anger that had risen in his eyes as he’d berated Tasha not subsiding.
‘We had just located and reactivated my identical brother,’ Data reminded Geordi with an odd calm. ‘Suddenly, I seemed to be behaving utterly uncharacteristically – in a manner, in fact, much like that Lore had initially exhibited, while my apparent counterpart lay inexplicably comatose and damaged in my quarters, and therefore incapable of confirming his identity. Did it not occur to any of my closest friends – the very elite of Starfleet – that maybe… just maybe, androids were capable of SWITCHING CLOTHES?!?’
Data’s tone had grown so thunderous by the end of his sentence that it brought the whole bar to an awkward silence. Geordi didn’t answer, but gazed at his friend, agog.
‘That was a very long time ago, Data,’ Beverly told him, quietly.
‘And thank you so much for keeping my off-switch a secret as I requested, Doctor,’ replied Data with a childishly crude sarcasm. ‘Can you imagine how thrilled I was when Commander Riker just sidled up behind me and switched me off in the middle of my tribunal – unexpectedly, in public? That was exciting!’
‘Hey,’ protested the Doctor, ‘it wasn’t me who made that common knowledge, it was Lore… you know… when we all thought he was… when he told us he was…’ Beverly blinked. ‘You just threw me off a boat. I refuse to defend myself to you.’
‘May I make an observation?’ Guinan asked, ‘or do you still have people you want to give a ticking off to?’
‘Many,’ replied Data. ‘However, I have no quarrel with you, Guinan. Please – continue.’
‘I’ve seen this happen before,’ Guinan told him. ‘With Vulcans that have started losing their marbles. A whole lifetime’s worth of anger starts coming outta them in lumps. It’s really quite dangerous for people who aren’t used to emoting…’
‘I was decapitated in the act of saving your life,’ interrupted Data, testily, ‘and as a result have a head that is half a millennium older than the rest of me. Things died in my nasal cavities, and did you ever thank me?’
‘I thought you had no quarrel with me.’
‘Well, it appears that I have found one.’
‘C’mon, Data,’ Tasha sighed, still trying to control her own irritation. ‘Don’t bring your friends into this. It’s me you’re really angry at.’
‘How right you are,’ replied Data, turning back to her, ‘and yet, you still appear surprised at my reaction.’
‘Not surprised,’ Tasha told him. ‘I’m disappointed, but mainly…’
‘Disappointed?’ Data aped. ‘Did you hope that I would profess undying love for you and fall into your arms simply because of a brief monogamous relationship and a handful of ill-advised casual sexual encounters? Are you so narcissistic to believe that your seductive powers are that strong?’
‘I just thought that maybe I meant something to you. Something special.’
‘Well, besides being especially infuriating to me, you are not. You are a cold, unfeminine, antisocial, overcompensating neurotic, whom I occasionally indulged sexually because I was not programmed to discriminate when it came to sexual partners.’
Tasha scoffed a little, her annoyance at his protestations growing. ‘You didn’t seem so indifferent in the Turbolift…’
‘You had sex in the Turbolift?’ Beverly interrupted. ‘Yuck!’
‘That does not count!’ Data exclaimed, jabbing a finger at her. ‘I was only ever pandering to your lusts, but not any more.’ He turned to go, then turned back again suddenly, hit with a victorious thought. ‘And I faked every orgasm.’
Something inside Tasha snapped. ‘Well, of course you did. You’re a robot.’
Data didn’t look away from her eyes. She didn’t even see his hand, it was so fast as he grabbed the nearest glass to hand and threw the contents of it in Tasha’s face. Tasha gasped a little in shock as the cold, faintly stinging liquid hit her in the nose and eyes.
‘What the Hell…?’
‘That was my tonic water,’ Dr Crusher complained, but Data had already turned and started pushing his way towards Ten Forward’s exit.
‘I’ll get you another one,’ Guinan placated, handing Tasha a cloth to dry her face.
Tasha accepted the cloth, now utterly livid. ‘He threw a drink at me! No one’s ever thrown a drink at me before…’
‘Well, as drinks to the face go,’ replied Geordi vacantly, watching Data’s now decidedly wobbly exit with concern, ‘quinine’s no biggie. It’s cold, it’s clear… I once saw someone get a jug of piping hot lobster bisque thrown on him… excuse me…’
Data had missed the door and was now walking sideways towards a table of Stellar Cartographers. Geordi darted away from the bar and hurried towards his increasingly crablike friend. The Engineer wasn’t fast enough, however, and one hundred kilograms of android suddenly went as stiff and immobile as a board, lost his centre of gravity and came crashing down into the table amidst a cacophony of broken glass and surprised screeches.
Drenched though she was, Tasha got to her feet automatically and started to approach the collapsed table, where Geordi was already squatting, trying to lift his friend out of the pool of fractured glasses that his fall had created. Tasha had to admit that she was relieved to see Data begin to pull himself upright, blinking a little groggily at his surroundings.
‘Are you OK?’ asked Geordi. ‘What happened?’
‘A minor overload,’ Data explained after spitting out a mouthful of smashed crockery and half a teaspoon. ‘I am fine.’
‘Data,’ worried Geordi, ‘I think you should take it easy with the emotions for a while. We don’t want…’
‘I am fine,’ Data insisted. He caught Tasha’s eye for a split second, then pushed himself upright, dusted himself down and made as dignified an exit as possible, with Geordi in pursuit, still protesting.
Tasha skulked back to the bar. ‘It was Will, wasn’t it?’
‘Hmm?’ muttered Guinan, fetching Beverly a fresh drink.
‘The bisque guy. It was Will Riker.’
‘No comment,’ replied Guinan, in a tone that implied “you’re right, but I’ll be damned if I’m telling you”.
Tasha tried to take her seat, but Morton was already mopping up the spilled drink from it with a cloth.
‘Let me do that,’ she offered.
‘Why?’ Morton didn’t even look up at her. ‘You wouldn’t catch me offering to fire torpedoes for you. You do your job, Commander, I’ll do mine.’
‘OK.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry, Morton. But I did warn you…’
‘There‘s a difference between having baggage and just dropping somebody you’d made arrangements with like a piece of trash,’ Morton told her. ‘That’s just plain rude. In fact, the only reason I haven’t thrown a drink at you myself is that I know it’d be me who’d have to clean it up again.’
Tasha sighed deeply to herself as the enraged Barman cleaned up the mess. ‘Well, that went about as well as could have been expected.’
