Star Trek The Next Generation - 19 - Boogeymen by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780671709709
Publisher: Star Trek
Published: 1991-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

Down in Engineering Wesley deposited Data in a chair, then sat across from him and watched. It was odd to see Data, who never got tired and normally had the posture of a machine, with his elbows on the table, slumping. He touched his forehead and winced occasionally. Yet Data’s skin color was the same as it always was and he didn’t sweat. Wesley guessed that he probably didn’t have a temperature. He had an operating temperature, but that wasn’t the same thing.

Wesley said, “How do you feel?”

Data looked puzzled for a moment and then said, “Generally, with my hands, but I have sensors all over my body. Did I say something funny, Wesley?”

Wesley shook his head and said, “Sometimes I think that pretending you don’t know what humor is is the funniest thing about you.”

Data didn’t understand that, and Wesley knew it was pointless to try explaining it, so he just forged on with another question. He said, “What is your condition?”

“Much the same as it was before. Tell me about being sick.”

Wesley considered the question. Most ailments that were common before the twenty-third century had been eradicated. Still, germs, viruses, and other afflictions mutated constantly and were sometimes accidentally carried from one outpost of the Federation to another. People even occasionally caught cold. Wesley suspected that Data knew all this and really wanted to know how humans reacted to being sick. Data was a great one for playacting. His rendition of Sherlock Holmes was not the end. The drama group he directed was famous all over the ship.

Wesley said, “I had a cold once.”

“Cold? As in heatless, chilly, nippy, frigid—”

“No, Data. A cold. A viral infection causing you to sneeze and cough and have a fever. Nothing really hurts, but you get bored with sneezing and coughing, and that’s after the infection makes you tired to begin with.”

“I see that being the son of a doctor has had its effect on you.”

Wesley was pleased by that, but he said, “Everybody knows this stuff, Data. But the important part as far as you’re concerned, is that when you have a cold you lie in bed with tissues to sneeze into and all your favorite books and a portable computer terminal and maybe some games you can play by yourself and a glass of water and some cough drops.”

“Sounds cluttered.”

“Maybe if you were well it would be, but if you’re sick, it’s just comfortable.”

“I see. Comfort is a consideration.”

Wesley nodded.

“Useful information. Please excuse me,” Data said and rested his head on his crossed arms.

Wesley sat there feeling helpless. If Data were human, he’d already be in sickbay. If he were just a machine, Wesley would already be poking a hyperspanner around inside him. But Data was supposed to be self-adjusting. He wasn’t supposed to get sick or broken or whatever.

When La Forge emerged from the turbolift, Wesley went over to talk to him.

“How is he?” La Forge said.

“Not so good. But he’s having fun with it.”

“That’s our Data.”

They watched Data for a while.

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