Rollercoaster - I Do, part 1

[r_scribbles]

A little two-part story here, set a few years after Insurrection, but a good year or so before Nemesis.


ROLLERCOASTER

-x-

I Do

-x-

‘You KNEW?’

Pran Tainer, the Atrean who had been a second husband to the being that Data had called “mother”, was a picture of venomous fury.

Tasha knew that Data had no cause to be afraid of his sort-of-Stepfather’s ire, and yet the hundred-kilogram android still discreetly clasped her hand. She was glad of it, in a way. Her boyfriend was having a tough day to say the least, and she was happy that she could be there for him.

‘I considered informing her once I had discovered the nature of her being,’ Data replied, ‘but I did not see how knowing what she really was would benefit her. She was created to believe that she was human…’

‘She was created because your maker didn’t see why the fact that one of his machines had murdered his wife amongst thousands of others should impede on his sex life,’ Tainer spat. ‘She was created to deceive. She’s a lie. I married a lie, and you sat by and let me carry on with it.’

‘Part of the reason that I kept the truth from her was that I knew that she loved you, but I did not know how well you would react to the news…’

‘Don’t you dare!’ Tainer lunged towards Data, pointing an angry index finger in his face. ‘Don’t you dare, when you let us continue as though everything was fine, when you let me take her to a hospital when she got sick, even though they’d never have been able to help her…’

‘I did not know that she had been experiencing difficulties,’ Data replied. ‘Nobody told me that she was in hospital…’

‘We could have taken her to somebody who could have helped, if we’d known,’ Tainer continued.

‘Dr Tainer, we know that you’re deeply hurt right now,’ interrupted Tasha. ‘You’ve lost your wife, and found out that the woman you loved wasn’t the person you thought she was, all on the same day. But please, don’t take it out on Data. He’s grieving too – he just lost his mother.’

‘His sister,’ corrected Tainer, bitterly, ‘if you insist on giving familial epithets to these… these Things. These machines. Soong tricked me into marrying a machine…’

‘My father had no intention of deceiving anybody into marrying her when she was created…’

‘And,’ added Tainer, talking loudly over Data, ‘you continued the trick. Is that how you things integrate – through duplicity?’

‘I do not.’

‘But you lied to me. And you lied to her. And now she’s dead, and I... I don’t know what the last eight years of my life even mean any more.’ Tainer stepped away from Data, turning his head as though that could hide his tears. ‘I’ve been married to a machine. Who would marry a machine?’

‘You have every right to be upset and angry,’ said Tasha, ‘but now you’re just being insulting. We came here to help you, not to take abuse.’

‘You’re too late to help. Much too late.’

‘We intended to assist you with the funeral arrangements,’ Data replied. ‘Disposal of her body will have to be different to traditional methods for human remains…’

‘Take it,’ interrupted Tainer. ‘Take the broken machine. Do what you want with it. It’s not my wife. It’s not the person that I loved.’ He pressed his fingers over his clenched eyelids. ‘I wash my hands of Soong’s creations. All of them.’

‘Are you suggesting that you have no wish to attend her funeral?’ Data asked. ‘I believe that that is inadvisable. Memorial ceremonies are a crucial part of the bereavement process…’

‘Go away.’

‘But if you would just…’

Tainer glared back at Data, his eyes red with fury and grief. ‘Go!’

Tasha squeezed Data’s hand. ‘C’mon.’

She led him out of what had laughably been dubbed the Hospital’s “quiet room” and into the corridor. They walked a short way together in silence, creating a much-needed distance between them and Tainer. They reached a door to another section of walkway – leading to where, Tasha was sure she neither knew nor cared. Once they’d passed the door, they stopped. Tasha pulled him towards her; cradling the back of his head in both hands as his face fell into her shoulder.

‘You OK?’

Data didn’t answer.

‘Stupid question, right?’

Tasha felt Data wordlessly nod; his face still buried in her shoulder.

‘Guess it’s true what they say,’ Tasha added after a while with a forced cheer, ‘you can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your family. The last thing you needed today was for your Stepfather to be such a jerk about the whole situation.’

Data pulled apart from Tasha, shaking his head. ‘I can understand his impulse to lash out – especially at me. I look like the man who created his version of Juliana to pass as human, even to herself; I represent the truth of her nature… and besides which, I knew. I knew, and I kept it from them.’

‘Data, please tell me you don’t blame yourself for what happened today.’

‘Dr Tainer was right – if she knew the truth about what she was, she would have known that the problems she was encountering were due to her systems malfunctioning rather than any mysterious illness. She could have gone to me, or to the Daystrom Institute for help, rather than wasting her time going to a hospital.’

‘Data,’ Tasha reminded him, ‘it wasn’t the malfunctions that killed her. The shock of finding out what she was sent her systems into cascade failure.’

‘Precisely. Had I been able to break it to her more gently when I found out, all of this could have been circumvented.’

‘Or,’ countered Tasha, ‘she could have died back then instead, and missed the last few, blissfully happy years of her life.’

‘Perhaps,’ replied Data with a sigh.

Before they could continue their conversation any further, they were interrupted by a nurse, whose superficial expression of sympathy did little to mask the rushed aggravation that lay beneath.

‘Mister Data?’

Data forced a polite smile. ‘Yes.’

‘First of all, we’re so sorry for your loss…’

‘It was not your fault,’ Data replied, apparently not realising that her condolence was pure formality. ‘None of you could possibly have saved her.’

The nurse nodded, briskly. ‘Have you started thinking about… funeral arrangements, at all?’

‘I have attempted to engage with Dr Tainer about that very matter, but at present, he is too consumed with shock to consider the practical issues that have arisen following my mother’s death.’

‘Yes,’ replied the nurse, ‘I know. We’ve just been trying to talk with him ourselves – he’s saying that all responsibility for dealing with Juliana’s affairs should be passed on to you.’

‘He implied the same sentiment to me. Very well. Civilian Terran crematoria will not be able to adequately dispose of an android body. The Enterprise has a prior engagement at Ganymede Science Station at the present, but it is due to return tomorrow at 11am Greenwich Mean Time. I propose that Juliana’s remains should be transported aboard with Commander Yar and myself then. We shall arrange a fitting memorial ceremony for her there, and then atomise her remains…’

‘That sounds ideal,’ interjected the nurse, clearly impatient to get the conversation over sooner rather than later and return to her heavy workload. ‘But I’m afraid there are some legalities to be seen to first. First of all, I’m afraid you still need a Death Certificate in this part of the world.’

‘Can’t the hospital do that?’ Tasha asked.

‘We give you the cause of death paperwork,’ replied the nurse, holding out a small envelope, ‘and believe me, given Juliana’s unusual circumstances, that in itself has proved tricky enough for us.’

Tasha frowned slightly at the envelope as Data took it from the nurse and read the contents.

‘You still do stuff on paper?’

The nurse raised her eyebrows. ‘You’ve never had to deal with British bureaucracy before, have you?’

‘I aim to avoid every kind of bureaucracy, whenever I can.’

‘Wish I could,’ said the nurse. ‘You need to take that paperwork to the local Registrar on Holland Street… I could order a private shuttle for you, but by the time it got here, you might as well have walked it.’

Data put the papers back into the envelope with his usual smooth neatness. ‘I believe that a walk would benefit me, at present.’

The nurse nodded. ‘Do you need a map, or have you got a locator?’

‘I am a locator,’ Data told her. ‘Holland Street… twenty three minutes’ walk, at a pace comfortable for Tasha; much of it along the south bank of the Thames. Very scenic, or so I am told.’

‘It’s a nice day for a walk,’ replied the nurse with a nod. ‘Well… it’s not raining, at least.’

‘Please let Dr Tainer know that I can be contacted via the Enterprise at any time, should he change his mind regarding his involvement with the funeral process,’ Data told the nurse. ‘I hope, for the sake of his long-term emotional wellbeing, that he does.’

-x-

It was indeed not raining, but beyond that, the weather was as flat and dull and sad as her mood. They’d made such plans, when the Tainers had taken up a new placement in London. She and Data had managed to persuade the Captain to allow them some leave time together – two whole weeks… quite a feat for two Senior Officers of the same Starship. They had been due to visit Juliana in May – to tour Europe together, with London as their base. Late spring, blossom in the warm air… art, architecture… Data would have loved it. And now all they had was a cold, overcast walk along the riverbank to complete paperwork and grieve. Some great romantic getaway.

She looked up at the pale grey sky and sighed. ‘A foggy day in London town…’

‘Actually,’ replied Data in subdued tones, ‘the “fog” that many visitors to London in the early 20th Century referred to was in fact smoke or soot – pollution. It is much cleaner now, as you can see, and not particularly prone to fog.’

‘Pretty overbearing sky, though.’

‘Yes,’ Data agreed. ‘To my recollection, I have never yearned for sunlight while aboard a Starship in the past. However, at this particular moment, a patch of blue in the sky would be… welcomed.’

She took his hand and leaned into him as they walked along the edge of the murky river.

‘Do you think that Dr Tainer will change his mind about attending the funeral?’ Data asked.

Tasha shook her head vaguely. ‘I barely know the guy. But you’re right – he needs to go.’

‘Perhaps I should ask Counsellor Troi to approach him on the matter,’ pondered Data. ‘It is in the interest of his own benefit…’

‘And in the interest of the memory of the woman he was married to,’ Tasha added. ‘Why does the fact that she was really an android change anything? She was a good, loving person and she deserves to have the husband that she was devoted to for the final years of her life be there at her own damn funeral.’

‘You are exhibiting bias, Tasha. If you must compare our relationship with that of my mother and Dr Tainer, please remember that you have always been aware of what I am. You have not been made to feel that you have lived a lie. He has.’

‘I know,’ sighed Tasha. ‘And I don’t blame Tainer for his actions – not really. This isn’t his fault.’

They walked in silence for a moment. Tasha knew full well that the conversation could have been ended there – should have been ended there. But the situation – Tainer’s misery and Juliana’s bewildered end and Data’s sorrow – it all made her so angry; too angry to hold her tongue.

‘It’s your father’s fault.’

‘Tasha…’ Data spoke her name in a neutral tone, yet she knew that it was a warning.

‘Well, it is,’ added Tasha. ‘Building an exact replica of your dead wife and not even having the courage to let her know the truth of what she is? He must have known that she was bound to find out sooner or later. I tell you, it’s a good job I never got chance to meet that old man face to face. Even before knowing about Juliana, I’d have liked to have given him a piece of my mind.’

‘He was a good man,’ argued Data. ‘A great man.’

‘He had all the moral responsibility of a wasp. He created sentient beings – physically strong, emotionally fragile, with brilliant minds that could be sent into meltdown or madness so easily… and just abandoned you. All of you.’

‘He did what he had to do…’

‘To save his own hide, sure. He left Lore, his great failure, railing against an unwitting living universe with an ally that could suck the life offa whole planets; he left Juliana ignorant of what she was rather than face the music and help her deal with the shock… and he left you – wonderful you – alone, unconscious, naked and defenceless on a planet that was being ripped apart…’

‘He was made to believe that there was no room for me…’

‘And he accepted it? Just like that? I’d have checked. I’d have double… triple checked. And if there really was no room, I’d have given you my seat. Because I love you.’

‘Are you suggesting that my father did not love me?’

‘Data, I honestly don’t understand how anyone who did love you could possibly leave you like that. What if it had been pirates who had found you, instead of the Federation – or Romulans, or Cardassians? Borg, even?’

‘My father did not know about the Borg.’

‘Exactly! He didn’t know. He didn’t know what was out there, and he just left you to it.’

Data exhaled through his teeth. ‘Have you quite finished, yet?’

‘I’m just saying…’

‘No you are not “just saying” anything! This is a needless character assassination!’

‘How can you defend him?’

‘Because he was my father,’ replied Data, furiously, ‘and he was the only one that I had. And I would appreciate it if you would cease in this attack of my dead father’s morality on the very day of my mother’s death.’

Tasha chewed her lip and inwardly cursed her hot temper and dreadful timing. ‘I’m sorry, Data. That was unfair of me. I just… it makes me angry to see you so hurt.’

‘I know that you like to speak your mind,’ Data said, the calm returning to his voice, ‘regardless of social delicacies, particularly when I am involved. And I know that you still have your own abandonment issues, which must colour your perception of other family units…’

They had reached the junction to Holland Street. Data turned down towards the Registry Office sharply, forcing Tasha to break into a jog in order to catch up with him.

‘Wait a minute! This isn’t about me – this isn’t about Turkana.’

‘I believe that it is always “about Turkana”, as far as your relationship with the concept of family is concerned.’

‘Take that back,’ Tasha replied through gritted teeth. ‘You know how hard I try to put all of that behind me.’

‘It is most commendable that you do. However, I am not convinced that you have yet achieved that goal. It is not for me to say whether it is something that can ever be achieved. Perhaps not.’

‘How dare you! How dare you turn this back on me! I think your family was dysfunctional because it was dysfunctional. Incredibly so. I mean – a genocidal evil twin… how does a healthy family harbour one of those?’

‘And I suppose Ishara was a blameless, delicate Angel?’

‘Compared to Lore? She was Mahatma Freaking Ghandi!’

‘Will you please stop bringing Lore into this discussion? This has nothing to do with Lore…’

‘And it has nothing to do with Turkana, either. This is about you, Data. This is about how you can’t possibly…’

A short, hunched figure pushed past them hurriedly, scuttling nervously up the steps towards the Registry Office’s front door, trailing ivory petticoats in its wake. Tasha tilted her head at the figure, distracted from her tirade.

‘Ferengi in a Wedding Gown,’ she noted. ‘Now, there’s something you don’t see every day.

Data nodded, equally fascinated. ‘She must be eloping.’

‘A female - unchaperoned and dressed, and on Earth of all places. Yeah, I can’t imagine they’d be too happy with that back on her homeworld.’

As they watched, the taffeta-clad Ferengi was met at the door by a human – a small, mousey man in an ill-fitting formal suit, with shoulders stooped as though the weight of the world had been pressing on them for all his forty-odd years. The two clasped hands at the door, and gave one another a gaze that spoke of relief and gratitude, and utter devotion and adoration. For the first time since they had begun to argue, Tasha’s hand found Data’s as they watched the Bride and Groom disappear into the Registry Office.

‘That’s so sweet,’ Tasha sighed.

Data gave her an odd look. ‘Natasha Yar, feeling sentimental about a wedding? Whatever is the world coming to?’

‘They must have given so much up for today,’ Tasha breathed. ‘So very much, for a few minutes in a little office, signing bits of paper… little bits of paper to say they don’t belong to Ferenginar any more, or to Earth. They just belong to each other.’

‘Because it does not matter,’ added Data, watching the space where the Bride and Groom had stood. ‘It does not matter where we come from, or what we are, or what our past has been like. Not in the grand scheme of things. What matters is here, now.’

He clasped her hand in both of his - a distracted expression on his face.

‘C’mon.’ She gave him a warm smile. ‘Let’s get this over with.’