Star Trek: Myriad Universes: Shattered Light - By Michael Schuster Page 0,15

“When plotted on a Wilkes-Takiyah Normalized Behavioral Model, my father’s conduct falls within one-point-two-five standard deviations of the mean.”

The captain looked inquiringly at Counselor Troi, who said, “Well within his expected range.”

Lal thought about the nature of the questions that had been put to her, and she realized that something unanticipated must have happened with respect to her father. “What is the reason that you are asking me these things?” Lal wanted to know.

“Lal, I’m sorry,” the captain said, “but Data is acting very strangely. He’s unaccountably taken control of the Enterprise. He’s locked himself alone on the bridge, changed our course and speed, and he won’t respond when we try to speak with him.”

“I do not understand,” Lal said. “Why would he do this?”

“We don’t know,” the counselor said softly. “We came here hoping that you might have noticed something recently—something your father did or something he said—that would help explain it.”

Lal again reviewed her interactions with her father over the course of the past week. “I have noticed nothing unusual,” she said. “Is my father in danger? Is the crew?”

“Not at the moment,” the captain said. “But until we know where he’s taking the ship and what he intends to do, we can’t be sure that won’t change.” He paced forward to stand directly in front of Lal. “Would you try contacting your father for us? Would you ask him to stop what he’s doing and return control of the ship to the crew?”

“Yes,” Lal said at once. “I will try.”

“Computer,” the captain said, “open a channel to Commander Data on the bridge.”

“Channel open,” the computer reported.

When the captain nodded at Lal, she said, “Father, this is Lal. Can you hear me?” She waited for a reply, but none came. The captain indicated that she should continue. “Father, I have been informed that you have commandeered this vessel. I ask that you relinquish control back to the Enterprise crew.” Again, she received no response.

The captain waited a moment, then closed the channel and told her, “Thank you, Lal.” To Troi, he said, “I’m going back to engineering. Maybe La Forge has made some progress.”

“I’ll stay with Lal just in case Data decides to contact her,” the counselor said.

The captain strode out, and Troi crossed the room to sit on the sofa. “I hope you don’t mind me staying,” the counselor said, but her actions demonstrated that, regardless of Lal’s wishes, Troi would remain.

“What’s going to happen?” Lal asked.

“I don’t know,” the counselor told her. “But I’ve known your father for a few years, and even if something has happened to his physical body or to his programming, I have to believe that he can be repaired and that everything will be all right.”

Lal contemplated this for a moment as she moved to sit beside Troi on the sofa. “No,” she said, “you don’t have to believe that.”

“Well, no,” the counselor admitted, “but I want to—wait. What did you just say, Lal?”

“I said, ‘No, you don’t have to believe that.’”

“You said don’t,” the counselor told her. “You used a contraction.”

“Yes,” Lal said, confused. “Is that not correct?”

“It is,” Troi said, “but it’s something your father’s not capable of doing.”

“Then I will desist.”

The counselor smiled. “I don’t think you need to do that,” she said. “I’m sure your father won’t mind. In fact, he’ll be proud when he learns that you have mastered a skill that he hasn’t.”

“My father cannot feel pride,” Lal noted.

“Well, yesterday, you couldn’t use contractions,” Troi said.

Lal doubted that her father would spontaneously develop the ability to feel pride, but she could not explain how her abilities had suddenly exceeded his. Without warning, her circumstances had changed, and obviously so had his. She wondered if their lives would ever be normal again.

Data felt himself jerk forward, then saw that the operations console had vanished. No, the ops console hadn’t vanished, he realized; rather, he found himself no longer on the Enterprise bridge—or anywhere else aboard Enterprise, as best he could tell. Instead, he sat on a chair in a cluttered, unfamiliar place. From directly to his left, somebody peered at him.

Data regarded the man, whose wispy white hair contrasted with both the blotchy pink skin of his face and the dark brown garments he wore. Wizened by age, he hunched over in apparent infirmity. Data rose to his feet, glanced quickly at his surroundings, then addressed the old man. “I fail to recall how I arrived here.”

“I sent for you, in a manner of speaking,” said