Chapter Text
Chapter Seven
Danny brightened considerably as he and Geordi stepped off the turbolift to Deck Ten.
"Geordi, do you smell pancakes?" he asked excitedly, and took in a deep sniff. "I love fresh pancakes, made with real chicken eggs and topped with real, melty butter and maple syrup! Do you think, if I asked, Guinan might add some chocolate chips and bananas to the batter? When I was a student in Boston, I used to go to this little restaurant where—"
Geordi's combadge chirped, and Commander Riker's voice announced: "Attention, all senior staff. Please report to the Observation Lounge."
A moment later, Danny's combadge followed suit: "Commander Data, please report to the Observation Lounge."
Danny winced and tapped his communicator.
"Acknowledged, Commander."
He glanced at Geordi, childlike disappointment all over his face.
"No pancakes?"
Geordi pursed his lips to keep from chuckling.
"Nope," he said and clapped the man on the shoulder as they turned back to the lift they'd just left. "But, look on the bright side. Maybe all those tests they put you through yesterday have turned up a clue."
"That would be good," Danny said glumly. "But, I really am starving."
He tilted his head, his expression blooming with hope.
"Geordi! In my reality, Counselor Troi always sets up this fantastic sampler platter for morning meetings. Does your Counselor Troi replicate breakfast platters like that, because I really like those little quiche things. And the mini bagels. Oh, and those crispy oskoid fronds from Betazed—do you like those Geordi? Geordi? Geordi, why are you laughing?"
The lift doors slid closed before Geordi could recover enough breath to reply.
*******
No tempting breakfast platter awaited them at the meeting, only a coffee and tea dispenser and a depressingly small plate of miniature pastries. Danny helped himself to some tea and a couple of tiny chocolate croissants, but despite his best efforts to keep up a positive attitude, once the meeting began, a grumpy cloud soon settled over him, and stayed there.
The first line of business was to discuss the ongoing process of dismantling the research station, housing the research scientists, and analyzing their collected data. It was all very routine and very tedious, but Danny paid polite attention to their problems until they finally got around to his.
Unfortunately, Dr. Crusher's much anticipated test results had turned up nothing he didn't already know. Her report just confirmed what he'd been saying all along.
Danny understood that was an important first step, finally having some hard, scientific data to back up his claims, but it was their apparent surprise that irritated him, as if they'd been doubting his story from the beginning.
"I've isolated Soong's quantum signature, Captain," Dr. Crusher had said, striding to the front of the room to play some animated visual aids on the screen behind the captain's chair. "As you can see from these diagrams, we have identified a quantum flux in Soong's cellular RNA that extends to the subatomic level. This fluctuation is asynchronous with normal matter. You see, all matter in the universe resonates at a quantum level with a unique signature. That signature is constant, a basic foundation of existence, and it can't be changed by any known process."
"What does that signify in this case, Doctor?" the captain had asked.
"There can be only one conclusion," Dr. Crusher had said, turning off the screen and returning to her seat. "This man, Danny Soong, originates from a different quantum universe."
Danny had rolled his eyes at the sheer obviousness of the findings, then sunk into a deeper funk as the discussion that followed made it increasingly clear that they really had no idea how to proceed. Several theories and postulations were thrown on the table and bandied back and forth, but none seemed worth pursuing. Danny had kept quiet, not sure whether or not he was supposed to speak since he was not a member of staff and had no official standing on the ship, but finally he couldn't take it anymore.
"Why don't we run a broad-spectrum scan?" he said, his sudden participation seeming to startle the gathered officers. For all he knew, they'd forgotten was sitting there.
"Please, go on, Commander," Picard said.
"You know my quantum signature now," Danny pointed out, struggling to tamp down his frustration. "So, why do we not just scan for it?"
"Danny," Geordi said, "I've been trying to explain, our scanners just aren't sensitive enough to pick up the remaining residuals of such minute quantum fluctuations. On top of that, the signature you're looking for resonates at a slight phase variance with our reality, creating destructive interference that essentially cancels it out."
"Then what am I doing here?" Danny countered. "If my reality's quantum wave function is canceled out so completely by your reality's quantum wave function then how the hell can I be sitting here, solid and breathing, within your quantum reality?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out!" Geordi said.
"No, no! The fact of my presence is not in dispute, and questioning it is only wasting time! The discussion at this point should not be about how I can be here, but how I arrived in the first place, where I arrived from, and how I can be returned," Danny snapped, and leaned forward over the table, his fingers laced together.
"Listen," he said, "even canceled waves leave an interference pattern, no matter how slight. A tomographic imaging scanner is capable of multiphasic resolution and could, theoretically, be used to detect that pattern. If you have one aboard – heck, even if you don't, we could modify the sensors to scan the area of space the Enterprise was passing through when I arrived here for any sign of spatiotemporal weaknesses, rifts, or anomalies with a corresponding phase-shift resonance. And what about the transporter? I materialized here from somewhere, didn't I? You cannot have half a transporter cycle, can you? So, why don't we go back to the transporter records, run a deep scan, try to reconstruct the full cycle record and trace my quantum signature back to the initial point of dematerialization?"
Picard looked from Danny to his chief engineer.
"Mr. La Forge?"
Geordi widened his nostrils, shaking his head slightly as he thought through Danny's suggestions. Finally, he sat back and threw his hands up in a shrug.
"There's a lot of 'ifs' in there, sir," he said. "For one thing, tomography is about using penetrating waves to create a series of image 'slices,' then reconstructing the full picture. It's usually used for medical scans or geologic surveys. As far as I know a tomographic imaging scanner's never been used to scan for temporal or quantum anomalies. But," he admitted, "it's a place to start."
Picard nodded.
"Then make it so. And take Transporter Room Three offline until your scans are complete," he said, and indicated the meeting was over. "Commander Data," he called as the senior staff began to file from the room.
Danny glanced at Geordi, then approached the captain.
"Sir?"
Picard looked him over, from his jacket to his shoes.
"Has something happened to your uniform, Commander?"
"Commander Riker's summons caught me on my way to breakfast, sir," Danny told him. "There was no time to change."
Picard nodded.
"I realize you are a guest here, but visiting officers on my ship – especially those I have asked to participate in an ongoing investigation – are expected –"
"To dress the part. Understood, Captain. With your permission, I'll go—"
"Not quite yet, Mr. Data," Picard said. "Or is it 'Doctor'?"
Danny glared down at his shoes.
"What does it matter? It seems no one on this ship is comfortable acknowledging that I am Lt. Commander Data, not even Geordi, so just go ahead and call me whatever you want."
Picard's eyes narrowed.
"Sit down, Commander."
Danny fought to suppress a grimace, but joined Picard at the table.
"I realize this can't be easy for you…"
Danny snorted.
"That is an understatement."
"But, that is no excuse to vent your frustrations on me or my crew," Picard said sharply. "Now, I want you to talk with Counselor Troi."
Danny flinched.
"Again? But, sir, Commander La Forge is expecting me to assist him with…"
"Talk with Troi first," Picard said firmly. "Data, none of us can pretend to understand the emotional turmoil you are going through right now. I want you to understand I am sympathetic to your feelings. But, bottling up your anxieties will help no one, and it certainly won't help you get home any faster. Am I understood, Commander?"
"Yes, sir," Danny acknowledged. "I just…"
He sighed.
"I apologize, sir. I would never have addressed my own captain in such a tone, and I should not have talked that way to you. I am grateful for all you are doing for me, and I will see the counselor. But..."
"Yes, Commander?"
Danny focused his eyes on his folded hands.
"What if we cannot solve this mystery before your work with the research station is complete?" he asked. "What will happen to me then? Am I to accompany you to the Daystrom Institute? And, what of my career...my position on the Enterprise... Am I still considered to be a Starfleet Officer if I was trained in another reality?"
Picard straightened in his chair.
"As far as I am concerned, Commander, you're as much a Starfleet Officer as I am," he asserted. "As for your position, I have been in contact with Starfleet Command regarding your...unique...situation. If you wish to remain aboard the Enterprise, I will be willing to submit a recommendation, but I'm sure you're aware I can make no guarantees. Just know we will do all we can to find a way to return you home to your family before we need concern ourselves with anything long term."
Danny nodded slowly.
"Thank you, Captain."
"You may go, Mr. Data."
"Sir," Danny acknowledged, then rose and strode from the room.
*******
Danny's uniform was in his assigned quarters.
He walked up to the door, staying just out of range of the motion detectors that would trigger it to slide open...
...then turned sharply and strode straight back to the turbolift.
"Ship's Stores," he said, his face burning with embarrassment as the lift started moving. No one had witnessed his odd behavior, but he was still breathing heavily, his hands shaking slightly.
His intelligent, analytical mind told him he was being irrational, that his reaction was ridiculous, immature, and unbecoming a decorated and responsible senior officer.
Still, there was no way he was going to open the doors to his quarters.
No way at all.
Danny knew the exact reason for his reluctance. He knew it all too well. But, he also knew that knowing didn't do a thing to change how he felt.
"Schrödinger's Cat," he whispered.
The turbolift let him off and he marched down the hall to Ship's Stores, muttering the same words over and over and over again...words he was barely aware he was saying: "Schrödinger's Cat. Schrödinger's Cat, Schrödinger's Cat, Schrödinger's Cat..."
"Sir?"
"Hm?"
Danny jumped and broke out of his half-conscious mantra, blinking blankly at the young Petty Officer who stood behind the storeroom console.
"Sir, were you saying something?"
"No, nothing," he said quickly. "I was just...um..."
His eyes flitted all around the room, but refused to land on the young woman's face.
"I need a uniform," he blurted.
"Then I'll need some identification," the woman retorted. "Name, rank, and Starfleet registration number, please."
"Lt. Commander Da- I mean, Daniel Soong. Registration 0045-0271A2," he rattled off, still unable to bring himself to check her expression. She must think I'm some kind of nut, he thought bitterly as she tapped in his information.
"Wait...this is Lt. Commander Data's registration number," the woman said.
"Yes, that's me. I am Lt. Commander Data."
The woman seemed surprised.
"No... Oh, by the Prophets.. You're him, aren't you! The human from the alternate universe! I've only seen Data a few times, but... Wow, you look just like him! Hey, Sarah!"
"No, no, please, don't call anyone else over," Danny said, his posture hunching in humiliation. "Just, please, can I have the uniform I requested?"
"Right away, sir," the woman said and strode away to fill his order, leaving Danny silently cursing the Starfleet regulation that official uniforms could only be replicated by personnel in Ship's Stores using a special prefix keycode.
She came back about half a minute later and laid a neatly folded gold and black uniform on the console, the insignia of a Lt. Commander already pinned to the collar.
"Here you are, Commander," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. He just hoped she wasn't laughing at him. He grabbed the uniform and turned to go.
"Um..." the woman called after him. "Sir? I know officers and enlisted personnel aren't supposed to...well...fraternize, but if you're free for a drink sometime, maybe...?"
Danny frowned. Was he hearing what he thought he was hearing?
For the first time, he looked the young Petty Officer in the face. She was Bajoran, and even younger than he'd thought, probably little more than twenty-one or twenty-two years old. He stared for a moment with his head slightly tilted, struggling to determine if he really was reading her intentions correctly. Flushed cheeks, slight smile, twirling her curly brown hair in a way that subtly exposed her neck...
All definite signals of flirtation.
Startled, he blurted, "I'm married," and practically ran back to the turbolift, leaving the young Bajoran and her friend Sarah giggling after him.
*******
Danny hadn't felt so stupid and out-of-place since his last starship assignment, on the Trieste. It was as if all the hard-won confidence he had gained in his years aboard his Enterprise was evaporating away, leaving him a self-doubting pillar of twisted nerves. Unwilling to even contemplate returning to his quarters, Danny changed in the gym's shower room and tossed his civilian gear into a waste receptacle, where the entire outfit dematerialized back into atoms for reuse elsewhere. By the time he'd rushed to Counselor Troi's office, he was out of breath and had to smooth back his unruly hair.
He sighed. His first full day in this awful reality was turning into a real pain. True, it was mostly his fault, him and his irrational aversions and impulses, but it wasn't even 1030 hours yet! Maybe things would be easier if he wasn't so damn tired...
For the first time, Danny found himself actually looking forward to a time when he could be alone with the broken androids, his scattered, frightened mind completely focused on the complex puzzle of their respective malfunctions. Until then, he'd have to deal with people. People and their expectations. People and their judgments. People and their knowing, prying stares...
And, speaking of Troi...
Danny took a bracing breath and pressed the button to signal his presence. A moment later, the doors slid open and the reluctant patient stepped into the counselor's office, still muttering, "Schrödinger's Cat..."
To Be Continued...