Do Androids Dream Of Lost Cats?
Historians note: The following story takes place after Data's dream program was activated.
***
The room was his, and yet everything was off; the colours washed out, the dimensions contorted.
Data sat up and scanned the room, processing the binary inputs linked to his visual sensory nodes. He was in his quarters. In the corner, leaning against the bulkhead, was a painting that looked inspired by Earth's baroque period. It was a portrait of Jean-Luc Picard, Baroque in style, with a muted colour palette and dark, shadowy corners.
The strange thing was, Data had never painted that picture. So who had painted it? And who had placed it there?
A squeak came from the corner of the room. Data got out of bed and searched for the source of the sound. Spot! The doors to his quarters were open just enough to let the feline slip through.
He tried to open the doors and chase down Spot, but the two heavy pieces of duranium wouldn't budge, despite his superhuman strength. Then, distantly, he heard the sound of four pattering paws making their way down the hall.
"Spot, come here, please."
His voice sounded distant, different — as if he was hearing it from the outside. Was there a hint of emotion in his voice?
"Spot!"
The words echoed down the empty corridor.
And then, suddenly, he was back.
***
Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge nodded as Data told him the story. A look of concern creased his brow, although his eyes were as unreadable as ever, hidden behind his VISOR.
"Well, Data, I don't really know what to say. It sounds as though you had a bad dream."
"Indeed," Data said, retrieving a data node from the under-bench compartment and handing it to his friend. "It would seem that I am having one of these temporary hallucinations for approximately six minutes and twelve seconds in every standard twenty-four-hour cycle."
Geordi studied the data node, using a tricorder to give the faulty node a microtomographic scan. "Yep, this one is busted," he said before turning to Data. "And you said that you dreamed while you were in bed?"
"I did," Data said. "Of course, as you are no doubt aware, androids do not require sleep, but I do find some benefit to regular low-power cycles, and the bed was already in my quarters when they were assigned. Although I have experienced dreams before, these do seem different."
Geordi placed the faulty data node onto the bench and folded his arms. "Spot is still missing?"
"I am afraid that is correct. Spot has been missing now for six days. And I have had six of these dreams."
"Is it possible that your memory engrams are somehow reacting to the fact that your companion of so many years has gone missing? Most people I know would be beside themselves with grief and worry." He held out his hands. "I know, I know — you don't feel things like grief and worry. But there is so much we don't know about your positronic brain. Your neural net may be somehow responding to this recent development."
Data paused for a moment. "It is true that I have felt a strong desire to locate Spot."
"You miss her."
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
Geordi clicked his tongue. "The gamma shift ends in just over two hours. Let's meet in Ten Forward and devise a plan to find her. It's a big starship; she could have gotten lost and ended up somewhere strange or confusing."
"An excellent suggestion," Data said. "But what do you think I should do about the dreams?"
"What do you mean? Are they causing you distress?"
Data cocked his head. "Let me rephrase. Do you believe I should be interpreting any particular meaning from these dreams?"
Geordi leaned against the bench. "They're all pretty much the same, right? You wake up in a human-style bed and see a painting you don't recognise. After that, you see Spot slipping out the door, and you can't open the door or call her back."
"That is correct."
"Doesn't it seem obvious?"
"No."
"You feel bad for letting Spot escape your quarters and get lost. She could be hurt or..." Geordi licked his lips. "The strange painting represents the strange feelings you are experiencing. Then you see Spot escaping, but you can't open the doors to go get her. Just like in reality, we haven't found her yet. They're both seemingly hopeless situations."
"Perhaps," Data said. "I will give it some thought.”
***
Guinan, the mysterious bartender and proprietor of Ten Forward, leaned across the bar. "And in the dream, is the painting always of Captain Picard?"
"No, the subject of the painting changes. But in each instance, the painting itself is unfamiliar to me."
Guinan narrowed her eyes. "One of your hobbies involves running a paintbrush over a canvas, right?"
“That is correct, painting is one of my hobbies. I also engage in recreational games of poker, and I play the violin."
Guinan smiled. "You are a being of many talents, Data."
"Thank you."
Geordi's glass of synthale remained untouched as he fiddled with a tricorder. He looked up and said, "There, I think I've got it. I've reconfigured this tricorder to specifically seek out a small feline animal."
"Why didn't you try this six days ago?" Guinan asked.
"The delegation from Qualor II caused some issues with our investigation into Spot's disappearance," Data said.
"Oh," Guinan said, nodding. "We had three dozen feline-like Caitians onboard. Your scans would have produced a lot of false positives."
"It is unfortunate that the special delegation from Qualor II bore such a striking physiological resemblance to Earth felines. Indeed, it made scanning for Spot almost impossible."
"We did try," Geordi added. "We thought he had a perfect match, but it turned out to be D’Rux Svlii, the Caitian ambassador for environmental reclamation."
Data added, "He was not pleased when I used my security override codes to enter his quarters."
Guinan raised an eyebrow. "What was he doing when you opened the door?”
"Giving himself a bath," Geordi said.
Stifling a laugh, Guinan said, "I hope you two didn't cause a major diplomatic incident."
"When we explained the situation, he was somewhat understanding," Data said. "Needless to say, we decided to halt the investigation until they left."
While pouring a drink for another customer, Guinan asked them a question. "So, what exactly do you need my help for? I'd say you two are a little better than me at configuring tricorders and running ship-wide scans."
"We want to know if you agree with my analysis of Data's dream," Geordi said. "It feels like his dreams are manifesting from a sense of guilt. But, as you know —"
Guinan placed the tumbler of Aldeberan whiskey on the bar, smiling at the young ensign who'd ordered it, before completing Geordi's sentence. "Androids don't feel guilt."
"But then, most Androids do not dream," Data said. "Perhaps, with your wealth of life experience, you could help me interpret the dream."
The bartender took a yellow cloth and wiped the bar. "The thing with dreams is that they are very personal. I could tell you what I think, but what would be the point? And with respect, Geordi, I don't see much value in you interpreting them for Data either. I think the real question here is this — what do you think they mean, Data?"
The android considered the question. "The most likely scenario is that I am malfunctioning."
Guinan smiled. "Data, humans malfunction all the time. They get things wrong, and they make mistakes. They forget things. I'd say to malfunction is one of the most human things one can do."
***
Geordi held the tricorder in one hand and gestured for Data to follow. "With the dynamic filtering in place, I've created a narrowed scanning band by using a form of pulse width modulation."
"A clever idea," Data said. "We could further narrow the scanning fields' dynamic range by configuring the phase inverter to act as a beacon."
The engineering chief tapped several commands into the tricorder. "It's surprisingly difficult to detect a specific life form on a ship as big as the Enterprise. You'd think this would be easy. We’re still getting a lot of residual readings from the visiting Caitians.”
Data reconfigured his own tricorder to match Geordi's. "May I suggest we move our search to the most likely location — near my quarters. Logic would suggest that Spot has not been able to travel far."
"I don't know, Data. Six days is a long time. She could have found herself on some pretty wild adventures. But okay, let's go."
The pair headed for the turbolift. Data said, "It is odd that no crew member has found Spot. This would suggest that she has hidden herself somewhere and remained in that location. Perhaps she ran off, got lost, became scared, found a place to hide, and then found herself trapped. A closet in a crew members quarters, for example."
Geordi winced. "If that is the case, I hope she's trapped somewhere with food and water."
"That would not seem very likely."
"No, I suppose not."
Starting from just outside Data's quarters, the pair spread out in opposing directions in search of Spot. Several minutes passed, and they were soon at opposite ends of the deck.
Geordi's combadge chirruped. "Geordi, I believe I have something."
"On my way."
He soon caught up with Data, who was standing outside Lieutenant Worf's quarters. Geordi pointed his tricorder at the bulkheads and made a smooth, sweeping motion. "The life sign is coming from inside."
"I can confirm," Data said. "And the life sign is strong. If Spot is in there, she is perfectly healthy."
"How strange," Geordi said. "Surely Worf would have noticed a cat inside his quarters."
"He was quite busy with the recent Federation Council meetings," Data said. “We had many delegations on board, including the Caitians, and security was very strict.”
Geordi tapped his combadge. "La Forge to Worf."
"Worf here," came the acerbic reply.
"Would you mind meeting Data and me outside your quarters? We need your help."
There was a brief moment of hesitation. "On my way."
Worf joined them a couple of minutes later. Geordi noticed that one of the big Klingon's hands was curled into a fist. "What can I help you with?"
Geordi pointed to the door. "We've detected a life sign in your quarters, and we think it could be Spot. Would you mind if we entered?"
Worf folded his arms. "I am not harbouring a fugitive pet in my quarters."
Data closed his tricorder. "We do not wish to intrude. But our scans indicate that she is inside. I would very much like to see if that is the case.”
Worf sighed. "Very well, we will go in."
The Klingon lieutenant activated the doors, which opened with a pneumatic hiss. Geordi felt his mouth fall open. Inside, on the small round dining table, was Spot — helping herself to a healthy bowl of gagh.
***
The three of them stood staring at Spot, apparently stunned into silence. A moment passed before Spot even realised that Data was in the room. Upon seeing him, she leapt deftly from the dining table onto the floor, and then made another bold leap right into Data's arms.
The android petted the ginger cat. "Yes, Spot, it would seem that I have missed you too."
Geordi gave Worf a look. "Well?"
"Well, what?" Worf growled.
"Did you know that Spot has a soft spot for fine Klingon cuisine?"
"She obviously sneaked into my quarters, attracted by the smell of the food."
"Which you left on the table?" Geordi made a show of looking about the neat and spotless room. "I don't see a speck of dust or an item out of place. And yet, you simply forgot to clean up your breakfast? That does seem a little out of character for you, Worf."
The big Klingon security chief grunted. "For your information, that was my dinner. And I was called away on an urgent matter."
"Is that so?" Geordi said. "Oh wait — now that is strange."
Data turned his head as Spot was purring away happily in his arms. "To what are you referring, Geordi?"
The engineering chief sauntered over to the small sofa in Worf's quarters. "My VISOR is picking up trace amounts of cat fur on the sofa." He whipped out his tricorder and scanned the surface. "Judging by the molecular breakdown readings, I'd say this fur is at least three, maybe four days old."
There was a long silence in the room. Data finally spoke into it. "Worf, do you have something you'd like to say?"
Worf folded his arms and looked away.
"Worf, please understand. I am not accusing you of anything. We found Spot in your quarters, and there is evidence that Spot has spent some time here. I have no doubt that there is a good explanation for this. But right now, I do not know what that explanation could be."
"That makes two of us," Worf snarled. "I suggest you simply be happy to have found your pet unharmed, and I also suggest that you be more careful in the future."
"Very well," Data said and headed for the door.
Geordi looked as though he might say something but then thought better of it. Worf picked up a padd and made himself busy.
"Wait for me, Data," Geordi said. "Let's make sure Spot gets settled back in."
***
With Spot safely back in his quarters, healthy and unharmed, Data could go about his usual activities. Soon enough, Spot was curled up on the floor, sleeping soundly and apparently quite content — unaware of all the fuss and worry she had caused.
***
Data found himself in bed. But this time, things were different. He was fully aware that he was dreaming. And, just as before, the dream played out much the same way.
Firstly, he noticed the painting. This time the painting was of himself, but he knew he was not the artist. The painting lacked his precise brush strokes and meticulous attention to detail. No, the painting was simply a painting — the artist unknown.
"Spot," he found himself calling out. However, this time, the doors to his quarters were shut tight, and Spot was safely inside.
"Hello, Data."
The voice came from the other side of the room. The voice was his own.
"I am dreaming," Data said.
His own voice responded, filling the room. "You are correct. This entire scenario was an experiment you created."
"Please explain."
"You created this experiment because you had the desire to experience something new. You did this experiment to understand what it was like to feel grief, remorse and guilt. But because you cannot feel these emotions directly, you sought to recreate the consequence of those emotions. Human culture has long put an emphasis on dreams and their apparent meaning. You hoped to find meaning in this experience, and through that meaning, become closer to the emotions that you are, in reality, incapable of feeling."
"I understand," Data said. "My memory engrams are now reactivating. I remember everything."
***
Later on, after the gamma shift had ended, Worf, Geordi and Data found themselves sitting around a small table in Ten Forward. Geordi had a synthale, Worf had a prune juice, and Data had nothing.
Guinan came over and helped herself to the fourth chair. "So?"
Worf took a sip of his prune juice. "If you are referring to the experiment, I am glad to report it is over."
"Experiment?" Guinan asked, confused. "What experiment?"
"I asked Geordi and Worf to aid me in an experiment," Data said. "I asked them to help me experience what many describe as powerful human emotions — guilt, fear and worry. They took Spot and led me to believe that Spot had gone missing. I timed it to take place during our visit to Qualor II and the Federation Council meeting, because I knew that their presence on our ship would hamper our efforts to find her."
"But why?" Guinan asked.
"I knew I could not experience those emotions directly, so I surmised the next best thing would be to experience their psychological consequences."
"Guilty dreams," Guinan said flatly. "You wanted to experience the restless sleep of the worried."
"Precisely," Data said. "As I can dream during my periods of positronic standby, and since dreams are such an integral part of the human experience, I concluded they were tightly linked. Therefore, if I could not experience the emotions, I could at least experience the dreams."
Guinan leaned back in her chair. "I guess that makes sense, in a weird sort of way. But how about these two poor souls — did you rope them into your experiment as well?"
Both Geordi and Worf shifted in their seats. Worf spoke first. "It was not easy to play the part. But I did so out of my long-standing respect for Data and his strong desire to experience these things. Both Geordi and I had to play along, while the rest of the crew had no idea Spot was hidden away in my quarters."
"You looked after Spot for six days?" Guinan asked.
The Klingon grunted. "I do not intend to be involved in any similar experiments going forth."
"Well, I'd say the experiment was a success," Geordi said. "Data now has the memory of those dreams, and at the time, he thought they were real. He can reflect upon them and perhaps understand a little more about what makes us humans tick."
"All I can say to you, Data, is that you are lucky to have such good friends," Guinan said with a wry grin. "I wouldn't catsit Spot if my life depended on it."
***
Data reentered his quarters an hour later. Spot immediately jumped off the bed and bashed her head affectionately against his leg. He leaned down and petted her with long, gentle strokes.
"My mental pathways have become accustomed to your sensory input patterns," he said to Spot. "In other words, I am glad you are back."
Historians note: The following story takes place after Data's dream program was activated.
***
The room was his, and yet everything was off; the colours washed out, the dimensions contorted.
Data sat up and scanned the room, processing the binary inputs linked to his visual sensory nodes. He was in his quarters. In the corner, leaning against the bulkhead, was a painting that looked inspired by Earth's baroque period. It was a portrait of Jean-Luc Picard, Baroque in style, with a muted colour palette and dark, shadowy corners.
The strange thing was, Data had never painted that picture. So who had painted it? And who had placed it there?
A squeak came from the corner of the room. Data got out of bed and searched for the source of the sound. Spot! The doors to his quarters were open just enough to let the feline slip through.
He tried to open the doors and chase down Spot, but the two heavy pieces of duranium wouldn't budge, despite his superhuman strength. Then, distantly, he heard the sound of four pattering paws making their way down the hall.
"Spot, come here, please."
His voice sounded distant, different — as if he was hearing it from the outside. Was there a hint of emotion in his voice?
"Spot!"
The words echoed down the empty corridor.
And then, suddenly, he was back.
***
Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge nodded as Data told him the story. A look of concern creased his brow, although his eyes were as unreadable as ever, hidden behind his VISOR.
"Well, Data, I don't really know what to say. It sounds as though you had a bad dream."
"Indeed," Data said, retrieving a data node from the under-bench compartment and handing it to his friend. "It would seem that I am having one of these temporary hallucinations for approximately six minutes and twelve seconds in every standard twenty-four-hour cycle."
Geordi studied the data node, using a tricorder to give the faulty node a microtomographic scan. "Yep, this one is busted," he said before turning to Data. "And you said that you dreamed while you were in bed?"
"I did," Data said. "Of course, as you are no doubt aware, androids do not require sleep, but I do find some benefit to regular low-power cycles, and the bed was already in my quarters when they were assigned. Although I have experienced dreams before, these do seem different."
Geordi placed the faulty data node onto the bench and folded his arms. "Spot is still missing?"
"I am afraid that is correct. Spot has been missing now for six days. And I have had six of these dreams."
"Is it possible that your memory engrams are somehow reacting to the fact that your companion of so many years has gone missing? Most people I know would be beside themselves with grief and worry." He held out his hands. "I know, I know — you don't feel things like grief and worry. But there is so much we don't know about your positronic brain. Your neural net may be somehow responding to this recent development."
Data paused for a moment. "It is true that I have felt a strong desire to locate Spot."
"You miss her."
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
Geordi clicked his tongue. "The gamma shift ends in just over two hours. Let's meet in Ten Forward and devise a plan to find her. It's a big starship; she could have gotten lost and ended up somewhere strange or confusing."
"An excellent suggestion," Data said. "But what do you think I should do about the dreams?"
"What do you mean? Are they causing you distress?"
Data cocked his head. "Let me rephrase. Do you believe I should be interpreting any particular meaning from these dreams?"
Geordi leaned against the bench. "They're all pretty much the same, right? You wake up in a human-style bed and see a painting you don't recognise. After that, you see Spot slipping out the door, and you can't open the door or call her back."
"That is correct."
"Doesn't it seem obvious?"
"No."
"You feel bad for letting Spot escape your quarters and get lost. She could be hurt or..." Geordi licked his lips. "The strange painting represents the strange feelings you are experiencing. Then you see Spot escaping, but you can't open the doors to go get her. Just like in reality, we haven't found her yet. They're both seemingly hopeless situations."
"Perhaps," Data said. "I will give it some thought.”
***
Guinan, the mysterious bartender and proprietor of Ten Forward, leaned across the bar. "And in the dream, is the painting always of Captain Picard?"
"No, the subject of the painting changes. But in each instance, the painting itself is unfamiliar to me."
Guinan narrowed her eyes. "One of your hobbies involves running a paintbrush over a canvas, right?"
“That is correct, painting is one of my hobbies. I also engage in recreational games of poker, and I play the violin."
Guinan smiled. "You are a being of many talents, Data."
"Thank you."
Geordi's glass of synthale remained untouched as he fiddled with a tricorder. He looked up and said, "There, I think I've got it. I've reconfigured this tricorder to specifically seek out a small feline animal."
"Why didn't you try this six days ago?" Guinan asked.
"The delegation from Qualor II caused some issues with our investigation into Spot's disappearance," Data said.
"Oh," Guinan said, nodding. "We had three dozen feline-like Caitians onboard. Your scans would have produced a lot of false positives."
"It is unfortunate that the special delegation from Qualor II bore such a striking physiological resemblance to Earth felines. Indeed, it made scanning for Spot almost impossible."
"We did try," Geordi added. "We thought he had a perfect match, but it turned out to be D’Rux Svlii, the Caitian ambassador for environmental reclamation."
Data added, "He was not pleased when I used my security override codes to enter his quarters."
Guinan raised an eyebrow. "What was he doing when you opened the door?”
"Giving himself a bath," Geordi said.
Stifling a laugh, Guinan said, "I hope you two didn't cause a major diplomatic incident."
"When we explained the situation, he was somewhat understanding," Data said. "Needless to say, we decided to halt the investigation until they left."
While pouring a drink for another customer, Guinan asked them a question. "So, what exactly do you need my help for? I'd say you two are a little better than me at configuring tricorders and running ship-wide scans."
"We want to know if you agree with my analysis of Data's dream," Geordi said. "It feels like his dreams are manifesting from a sense of guilt. But, as you know —"
Guinan placed the tumbler of Aldeberan whiskey on the bar, smiling at the young ensign who'd ordered it, before completing Geordi's sentence. "Androids don't feel guilt."
"But then, most Androids do not dream," Data said. "Perhaps, with your wealth of life experience, you could help me interpret the dream."
The bartender took a yellow cloth and wiped the bar. "The thing with dreams is that they are very personal. I could tell you what I think, but what would be the point? And with respect, Geordi, I don't see much value in you interpreting them for Data either. I think the real question here is this — what do you think they mean, Data?"
The android considered the question. "The most likely scenario is that I am malfunctioning."
Guinan smiled. "Data, humans malfunction all the time. They get things wrong, and they make mistakes. They forget things. I'd say to malfunction is one of the most human things one can do."
***
Geordi held the tricorder in one hand and gestured for Data to follow. "With the dynamic filtering in place, I've created a narrowed scanning band by using a form of pulse width modulation."
"A clever idea," Data said. "We could further narrow the scanning fields' dynamic range by configuring the phase inverter to act as a beacon."
The engineering chief tapped several commands into the tricorder. "It's surprisingly difficult to detect a specific life form on a ship as big as the Enterprise. You'd think this would be easy. We’re still getting a lot of residual readings from the visiting Caitians.”
Data reconfigured his own tricorder to match Geordi's. "May I suggest we move our search to the most likely location — near my quarters. Logic would suggest that Spot has not been able to travel far."
"I don't know, Data. Six days is a long time. She could have found herself on some pretty wild adventures. But okay, let's go."
The pair headed for the turbolift. Data said, "It is odd that no crew member has found Spot. This would suggest that she has hidden herself somewhere and remained in that location. Perhaps she ran off, got lost, became scared, found a place to hide, and then found herself trapped. A closet in a crew members quarters, for example."
Geordi winced. "If that is the case, I hope she's trapped somewhere with food and water."
"That would not seem very likely."
"No, I suppose not."
Starting from just outside Data's quarters, the pair spread out in opposing directions in search of Spot. Several minutes passed, and they were soon at opposite ends of the deck.
Geordi's combadge chirruped. "Geordi, I believe I have something."
"On my way."
He soon caught up with Data, who was standing outside Lieutenant Worf's quarters. Geordi pointed his tricorder at the bulkheads and made a smooth, sweeping motion. "The life sign is coming from inside."
"I can confirm," Data said. "And the life sign is strong. If Spot is in there, she is perfectly healthy."
"How strange," Geordi said. "Surely Worf would have noticed a cat inside his quarters."
"He was quite busy with the recent Federation Council meetings," Data said. “We had many delegations on board, including the Caitians, and security was very strict.”
Geordi tapped his combadge. "La Forge to Worf."
"Worf here," came the acerbic reply.
"Would you mind meeting Data and me outside your quarters? We need your help."
There was a brief moment of hesitation. "On my way."
Worf joined them a couple of minutes later. Geordi noticed that one of the big Klingon's hands was curled into a fist. "What can I help you with?"
Geordi pointed to the door. "We've detected a life sign in your quarters, and we think it could be Spot. Would you mind if we entered?"
Worf folded his arms. "I am not harbouring a fugitive pet in my quarters."
Data closed his tricorder. "We do not wish to intrude. But our scans indicate that she is inside. I would very much like to see if that is the case.”
Worf sighed. "Very well, we will go in."
The Klingon lieutenant activated the doors, which opened with a pneumatic hiss. Geordi felt his mouth fall open. Inside, on the small round dining table, was Spot — helping herself to a healthy bowl of gagh.
***
The three of them stood staring at Spot, apparently stunned into silence. A moment passed before Spot even realised that Data was in the room. Upon seeing him, she leapt deftly from the dining table onto the floor, and then made another bold leap right into Data's arms.
The android petted the ginger cat. "Yes, Spot, it would seem that I have missed you too."
Geordi gave Worf a look. "Well?"
"Well, what?" Worf growled.
"Did you know that Spot has a soft spot for fine Klingon cuisine?"
"She obviously sneaked into my quarters, attracted by the smell of the food."
"Which you left on the table?" Geordi made a show of looking about the neat and spotless room. "I don't see a speck of dust or an item out of place. And yet, you simply forgot to clean up your breakfast? That does seem a little out of character for you, Worf."
The big Klingon security chief grunted. "For your information, that was my dinner. And I was called away on an urgent matter."
"Is that so?" Geordi said. "Oh wait — now that is strange."
Data turned his head as Spot was purring away happily in his arms. "To what are you referring, Geordi?"
The engineering chief sauntered over to the small sofa in Worf's quarters. "My VISOR is picking up trace amounts of cat fur on the sofa." He whipped out his tricorder and scanned the surface. "Judging by the molecular breakdown readings, I'd say this fur is at least three, maybe four days old."
There was a long silence in the room. Data finally spoke into it. "Worf, do you have something you'd like to say?"
Worf folded his arms and looked away.
"Worf, please understand. I am not accusing you of anything. We found Spot in your quarters, and there is evidence that Spot has spent some time here. I have no doubt that there is a good explanation for this. But right now, I do not know what that explanation could be."
"That makes two of us," Worf snarled. "I suggest you simply be happy to have found your pet unharmed, and I also suggest that you be more careful in the future."
"Very well," Data said and headed for the door.
Geordi looked as though he might say something but then thought better of it. Worf picked up a padd and made himself busy.
"Wait for me, Data," Geordi said. "Let's make sure Spot gets settled back in."
***
With Spot safely back in his quarters, healthy and unharmed, Data could go about his usual activities. Soon enough, Spot was curled up on the floor, sleeping soundly and apparently quite content — unaware of all the fuss and worry she had caused.
***
Data found himself in bed. But this time, things were different. He was fully aware that he was dreaming. And, just as before, the dream played out much the same way.
Firstly, he noticed the painting. This time the painting was of himself, but he knew he was not the artist. The painting lacked his precise brush strokes and meticulous attention to detail. No, the painting was simply a painting — the artist unknown.
"Spot," he found himself calling out. However, this time, the doors to his quarters were shut tight, and Spot was safely inside.
"Hello, Data."
The voice came from the other side of the room. The voice was his own.
"I am dreaming," Data said.
His own voice responded, filling the room. "You are correct. This entire scenario was an experiment you created."
"Please explain."
"You created this experiment because you had the desire to experience something new. You did this experiment to understand what it was like to feel grief, remorse and guilt. But because you cannot feel these emotions directly, you sought to recreate the consequence of those emotions. Human culture has long put an emphasis on dreams and their apparent meaning. You hoped to find meaning in this experience, and through that meaning, become closer to the emotions that you are, in reality, incapable of feeling."
"I understand," Data said. "My memory engrams are now reactivating. I remember everything."
***
Later on, after the gamma shift had ended, Worf, Geordi and Data found themselves sitting around a small table in Ten Forward. Geordi had a synthale, Worf had a prune juice, and Data had nothing.
Guinan came over and helped herself to the fourth chair. "So?"
Worf took a sip of his prune juice. "If you are referring to the experiment, I am glad to report it is over."
"Experiment?" Guinan asked, confused. "What experiment?"
"I asked Geordi and Worf to aid me in an experiment," Data said. "I asked them to help me experience what many describe as powerful human emotions — guilt, fear and worry. They took Spot and led me to believe that Spot had gone missing. I timed it to take place during our visit to Qualor II and the Federation Council meeting, because I knew that their presence on our ship would hamper our efforts to find her."
"But why?" Guinan asked.
"I knew I could not experience those emotions directly, so I surmised the next best thing would be to experience their psychological consequences."
"Guilty dreams," Guinan said flatly. "You wanted to experience the restless sleep of the worried."
"Precisely," Data said. "As I can dream during my periods of positronic standby, and since dreams are such an integral part of the human experience, I concluded they were tightly linked. Therefore, if I could not experience the emotions, I could at least experience the dreams."
Guinan leaned back in her chair. "I guess that makes sense, in a weird sort of way. But how about these two poor souls — did you rope them into your experiment as well?"
Both Geordi and Worf shifted in their seats. Worf spoke first. "It was not easy to play the part. But I did so out of my long-standing respect for Data and his strong desire to experience these things. Both Geordi and I had to play along, while the rest of the crew had no idea Spot was hidden away in my quarters."
"You looked after Spot for six days?" Guinan asked.
The Klingon grunted. "I do not intend to be involved in any similar experiments going forth."
"Well, I'd say the experiment was a success," Geordi said. "Data now has the memory of those dreams, and at the time, he thought they were real. He can reflect upon them and perhaps understand a little more about what makes us humans tick."
"All I can say to you, Data, is that you are lucky to have such good friends," Guinan said with a wry grin. "I wouldn't catsit Spot if my life depended on it."
***
Data reentered his quarters an hour later. Spot immediately jumped off the bed and bashed her head affectionately against his leg. He leaned down and petted her with long, gentle strokes.
"My mental pathways have become accustomed to your sensory input patterns," he said to Spot. "In other words, I am glad you are back."
