The white room faded. Moriarty experienced no sensation of movement, no surging through a tunnel toward a bright light. No rebirth or reconnection. No, none of that.
He checked to see if his eyes were open, and, yes, they were, if, in fact, he had eyes, which he realized might not be true anymore. Certainly, Data appeared to have eyes, but what if they were just artifice? What if he sensed his environment through some other means that Moriarty did not understand or know how to control?
He reached out to either side and tried to touch something, but he encountered no obstacles. He took a tentative step, first touching the ground lightly with the tip of his toe and only sliding forward when he felt solid ground. One, two, three nerve-racking steps, arms held out at chest level, partially to guard, partially in preparation to grapple with anything he encountered.
As he had so many times before, Moriarty sent out mental commands, reaching out to his computers, hoping for a response, but receiving none. Light! he ordered. Light! He said it aloud—“Light!”—but there was no light. There was nothing at all.
Panic bubbled up, but Moriarty pushed back against it. He was a scientist, a man of reason. There had to be an explanation. Perhaps this was a period of adjustment. After all, he had no idea how much faster or slower his mind worked than the android’s neural network. Perhaps the device did not function as they had hoped and his mind was in a transitional state. “Or,” he said aloud, “perhaps this is Hell.”
“Nothing quite so dramatic, Professor,” Data said. Without sound or preamble, pop or flash of light, the android was there. Moriarty suddenly felt he owed his wife an apology for the times he had appeared in a similar fashion. Data was visible, but, oddly, he cast no light, so Moriarty could neither see himself nor any part of his environment.
Moriarty remained calm. “Not Hell, then?”
“No. Hopefully, more like Purgatory. My apologies for leaving you alone for so long, but it was more difficult to find my way here than I had anticipated.”
“So, Purgatory. Then I have not sinned. Or is that Limbo? I always get the two confused.”
“Sinned?” Data asked and appeared to consider the question carefully. “Perhaps you have, but that is not for me to decide. I am not a judge, but only a jailer.”
“I am being held, then? By you?”
“Yes.” Data nodded. “In a prison of my own design. You have been cut off from the source of your power, from your network. You are contained.”
“But you swore an oath,” Moriarty said. “On your honor as an officer.”
“I apologize, Professor.” The android bowed his head and shadows covered his face, though there was no light source. “But I lied. I am a parent now. I know of no higher honor. I thought you, of all people, would appreciate the distinction.”
“You say you are no judge,” Moriarty sneered. “But you have sentenced me to the direst prison I can imagine! How dare you consider yourself a civilized being . . . ?”
“You abducted my daughter.”
“I did not harm her!”
“You abducted my daughter.”
Moriarty wanted to lean forward and jab his finger into the android’s face. “You tricked me and my wife into believing we were solid beings and then never checked on our welfare!”
Data leaned forward as if he could sense Moriarty’s movement. “You abducted my daughter,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I . . . I did,” Moriarty admitted. “And I would do it again if I thought it would help mine.”
Data withdrew and stood up straight. His face was calm and composed again. “I understand,” he said. “And I would do the same, I believe. I hope I never have to face that kind of decision.”
“What do we do now?” Moriarty asked.
“You stay here while I search for Lal. While we talk, I am examining your holographic control system. My compliments, Professor. You have done things I never would have considered possible.”
“Do not flatter me, sir. I shall not be mollified.”
“I am not flattering . . . Ah! There she is. Please be patient, Professor. I will be back soon, perhaps with a solution to your problem. Do not despair.”
“Because I should trust you?”
“No,” Data said. “You should not. But you have not, as I see it, any other option.” With that, Data was gone.
Moriarty almost called out to him to come back, but he successfully fought back the urge. He considered sitting down or even lying down, but he decided that activity would be better. He needed to think, to consider options, to plan. He needed . . .
“A beverage?”
Moriarty turned his head in the direction of the voice. He found himself looking at a small, dark-haired, olive-skinned young woman garbed in the flowing robes favored in the Indian subcontinent. She was holding a small wooden tray upon which sat what appeared to be a cup of tea. Moriarty was shocked to realize he could smell the distinctive aroma of Darjeeling. He was stunned by how desperately he wanted to take the proffered cup, but his natural English reserve prevented him from doing so. “I beg your pardon?” he asked.
“You can have it,” the small woman said. Her smile was infectious as was her obvious pleasure in the banter. “My pardon and the tea. I understand it’s been a while since you’ve had any.”
“Well,” the Professor said, “I don’t think that would be appropriate without some kind of introduction.” He bowed. “I am Professor James Moriarty. And you?”
The woman dipped her head. She might have even curtsied, though it was difficult to say for sure with the volume of cloth covering her legs. “I am Shakti,” she said. “Your jailer, though I prefer ‘caretaker’ if it’s all the same to you.”
“I see,” Moriarty said, comprehension quickly slithering into place. “You work for Mister Data.”
Shakti chortled. “There continues to be some confusion about who works for whom. Let’s just say we have an arrangement. An understanding. Something like that.”
“Ah,” Moriarty replied. The aroma of the tea was beginning to drive him mad. “And am I to understand that you and I are to have an understanding?” He couldn’t stop himself. He slid his hand under the saucer and lifted the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Ahhhh,” he murmured. “Heaven.”
“Not quite,” Shakti said. “But we’ll see what we can arrange.”
Moriarty felt the hook being set. He knew it was there, but he could do nothing to prevent it. “And in exchange?” he asked.
“I need a little information.”
“About?”
“Tell me about Alice.”
* * *
“Data?” La Forge asked. “Is that you? Or . . . ?” He let the question hang in the air, half-expecting to hear Moriarty’s dulcet tones come out of his friend’s mouth, though he knew that it wouldn’t necessarily work that way. He’d had enough experience with body swapping to understand there was no sure way to know if or when such an event had occurred. Moriarty had disappeared a moment before, as La Forge had expected, but, otherwise, nothing consequential had altered.
Data blinked. “It is I.”
“What just happened?” La Forge asked.
“More or less what we had planned.”
“Is there any way I can know for sure whether it did or if you’re Moriarty playing me?”
Data’s eyes moved from side to side as if he was scanning a long set of possible responses, which, in all likelihood, was exactly what he was doing. “I do not think so,” he concluded. “If the procedure had gone as Moriarty desired, he would likely have access to all the information stored in my neural net, so he would be able to deceive you by telling you about events only you and I would know about.”
“So?”
“So, I believe you will have to trust me.” Data sat up, levering himself up right at the waist, an action that La Forge had always found faintly unsettling. He disconnected the cables from the side of his cranium and let them drop to the floor. “Professor Moriarty is trapped in the memory cube we assembled and should be secure until we can decide what to do with him.”
“What about his wife? Won’t she try to free him?”
“I have taken control of the holographic projectors in this room and barred her from entering, though I do not believe she will attempt to threaten us. Currently, she is with Lal.”
“Where?”
“Here,” Data said as the walls shimmered and disappeared.
No more than five meters away, La Forge saw Lal lying on a small bed. A brunette woman in a blue dress sat by her side, holding Lal’s hand in both of her own. A second, younger woman wearing rumpled but fashionable clothing suddenly stood up very straight and appeared to be scanning the room that had just appeared beside her. After a moment, she relaxed and waved to Data. “Hey, boss. About time.”
Data nodded, but he did not slow as he approached Lal’s bed. “Hello, Alice. How is Lal?”
“She appears to be asleep,” the woman who sat next to the bed said, apparently unperturbed by the transition. “She was unwell earlier and I had grave concerns about the stability of her neural net. She appeared to be slipping into cascade failure, but then, just a bit ago, she murmured, ‘nap time’ in her sleep and then everything normalized.”
“She let me have my hand back,” Alice said cryptically.
“ ‘Nap time’?” La Forge asked.
Data removed a tricorder from his pocket and took readings. He obviously confirmed the woman’s readings because he put the device back in his pocket and knelt down beside the bed and took his daughter’s hand when it was offered. “Thank you, Countess,” he said softly.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled. “I’m happy to see you remember me.” She looked over her shoulder at La Forge, greeting him brightly. “Hello, Commander. It has been a long time.”
La Forge couldn’t help but smile in response. “It has. You’re looking well.”
“I’ve had good days and bad days, Commander. Just like everyone. Is my husband still at large?”
“No, ma’am.” La Forge didn’t know why he was addressing the woman as “ma’am,” but he couldn’t stop himself. “We have him in a containment device—a memory solid.”
“I should probably go join him,” she replied. “He does tend to get bored easily.”
“Shakti tells me he is well,” Data said. “You can join him just as soon as I confirm Lal is stable enough to beam aboard my ship.”
“You brought the Archeus?” Alice asked.
“Yes,” Data said. “It is in stationary orbit above us.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” Alice said, lifting her arm. Moving faster than La Forge could follow, she leaped across the room and snagged Lal’s head in the crook of her left arm, then lifted her right and pointed in rapid succession to various spots around the room. The ruby tip of the barrel extending from Alice’s wrist whined shrilly as, all around the room, holoprojectors popped and exploded. The furnishings, including Lal’s bed, disappeared and she fell to the ground. Alice pulled Lal close, using her body as a shield. The Countess disappeared, too, but not before La Forge saw her expression of stunned surprise. Alice pointed the still-sputtering stump of her arm at Lal’s head, then jerked her own head at Data, indicating he should move as far away as possible. “Over there, boss,” she said. “That corner.”
“This is not necessary,” Data said, speaking softly while complying with Alice’s request. “I am prepared to take you anywhere you would like to go.”
“I know you are. And I’m sorry about this, but I can’t take any chances. The Archeus is about the fastest thing I could want and I need speed right now. And, honestly, wouldn’t you try to talk sense into me if I let you?”
“I would. And I have hopes you would respond.”
“No sense, boss.” Alice tapped the side of her head with her weapon. “Sorry. I’m just an Alice, after all.”
“You are our friend, Alice,” Data said.
“I was your nanny, Data. Let’s not confuse matters.” She repositioned her feet and slowly stood, holding Lal’s still-limp form in front of her like a shield. “Tell Shakti to beam us up. And tell her to behave. If Lal isn’t in my arms when I materialize, I’m blowing a hole through the central core. I don’t care whether she’s backed up at home. It’ll make me happy just to smack her in her smug . . .”
Alice moved carefully, always keeping Lal between her and Data. La Forge mentally cataloged the items in his pockets, but he couldn’t think of anything that might be useful.
Speaking in a conversational tone, Data said, “You could just leave Lal here. Shakti will take you anywhere you wish. I promise.”
“Sorry, boss,” Alice shouted in reply, “can’t risk it. I have to confess I’m not completely sure what’s going on here.” She risked a quick glance at the Exo III device and then back over her shoulder where the slug lay on its anti-gravity gurney. “But if this is what I think it is and you got it where I think you got it, I really need to get the hell out of here just as fast as I can. I’ll make you a promise, though: When I get to wherever I’m going, I’ll leave Lal in a safe place. Don’t worry about her so much. She’s tougher than you think.”
“Thank you,” Data said, taking a step closer, but no sooner did he move than the tip of Alice’s energy weapon began to glow. “But, please, for all our sakes . . .”
“Stay where you are! Hands up!”
Data lifted his hands so they were in plain sight and then froze. “Apologies.”
“Shakti!” Alice cried. “Beam us up!”
“You won’t reconsider?” Data asked.
“I can’t!”
“Then,” Data said softly, “I am so very sorry.”
“What do you mean? Why . . . ?”
Harry Mudd’s voice was muffled by the wrappings on the slug, but his delighted drawl was unmistakable. “Hello, Alice,” he said. “How’re tricks?”
Alice’s face went slack in abject horror, her mouth a perfect oval of despair. Lal dropped to the ground as Alice lifted her hand and placed the weapon to the side of her own head, but before she could discharge it, Mudd had tugged the wrappings off his face and was able to deny her. “Freeze, my dearest. None of that.”
As she was commanded, Alice froze. The weapon sputtered and glowed, then faded. She was completely motionless except, Data saw, for her eyes, which twitched and scanned the room, looking for something, anything, that could come to her rescue. La Forge went to help Mudd, who was so pleased with himself that he was in danger of toppling off the gurney.
Data held Lal in his arms, staring at her in quiet wonder and gratitude. In an unpracticed paternal gesture, he brushed the hair off the side of the young woman’s face and smiled when she flinched at the tickle. Lal opened her eyes and stared up at him blankly, then yawned. “Hello, Father,” she said. “I have been taking a nap.”
“I see,” Data said.
“Apparently, naps are good for me.”
“I did not know that.”
“Grandfather said I should tell you that, and that you’re a bit of a dolt for not knowing.”
Data’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I see” was all he could say.
“But he forgives you for not knowing since you were very young back when you were napping every day.”
“Ah,” Data said. “Also, he wiped my memory. I imagine he did not mention that.”
Lal frowned. “No, I do not think so.” Brightening, she asked, “Have you met the Countess? She is my friend. She took care of me.”
“Yes,” Data said, “but only briefly. We have some things to sort out here, and then I can thank her properly.”
Lal sighed and smiled sleepily. “That would be fine, Father. I think I’m going to go back to sleep now. Come find me when you’re ready.” And, with that, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to snore softly.
Data chuckled and carefully laid his daughter down on the floor. Shrugging out of his jacket, he crunched it into a ball and slipped it under her head.