Chapter Text
The door chimed.
Counselor Deanna Troi put down her PADD and crossed the room of her office to greet her next patient. “Come in!” she called.
With a hiss, the doors parted to reveal Lieutenant Commander Data, dressed neatly as always in uniform. “Councilor. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”
“Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “I’m always happy to see you. Please come in and have a seat.” Deanna stepped aside to allow the android to come through. “What do you have on your mind?”
Data crossed the room and sat on the couch with his hands on his knees. He waited for Deanna to settle down on the couch opposite him before taking a deep breath. “Well Councilor,” he began, “it is about my latest poetry reading.”
Deanna smiled encouragingly. “Ah yes, it was quite lovely.”
Data frowned. “Was it? It seems to me as though not many in the audience would agree with that sentiment. In fact, I seem to be having quite a difficult time eliciting any kind of emotional response from my audience at all with my poetry.”
“Oh? Why do you say that?”
“Well, after the performance, I spoke to several key members, including Geordi and Guinan. They seemed at a loss to adequately describe how they felt about my poetry. In addition, I also later found one audience member asleep in her chair. In short, I cannot conclude that I was successful in my endeavor to ‘touch their hearts,’ to use a metaphor.”
Deanna frowned, touching her chin with her forefinger thoughtfully. “I see. What do you think you should do to solve this problem?”
“Well, Counselor, I thought it would be best to seek advice from someone who understands emotion, which is why I have come here. I thought you would be the best person to request help from in this matter. You, being an empath and a trained, experienced psychologist, know more than most about how and why people feel as they do. It is a topic that I cannot, even for all my research, begin to understand.”
“Ah, I see. Well Data, emotions are a difficult thing to understand, even for those who experience them on a daily basis. That’s why psychologists like myself exist, after all. Data,” She paused. “How can I put this delicately…?”
With one eyebrow raised, Data folded his hands in his lap as he regarded her. “Please do remember, Councilor, that you can speak to me frankly. I will not and cannot be hurt by your words.”
She nodded. “The problem is that, well, I believe that emotions are something that really can’t be understood unless you experience them. And so, to try to draw forth from someone an emotional response the likes of which you yourself have never known….” She paused again, trying to find the right words. “It might be beyond your capabilities as of yet.”
Data frowned. He looked down at the floor as he considered her words, twiddling his thumbs. Finally, he tilted his head to one side and looked up. “Councilor—“
“Please, Data, why don’t you call me Deanna?”
“Ah. Yes. Deanna.” He drew a breath. “Deanna, since I know myself to be incapable of emotion, then it should follow that I am incapable of implicitly imparting emotion on others. Therefore, it sounds like the logical course of action here would be to drop my pursuit of poetry and focus on something more within my grasp.” He nodded curtly and made to stand. “Thank you for your council.”
“Wait— no, that’s not what I meant.” Deanna reached out and grabbed his hand, encouraging him to take his seat once more. He gave her a perplexed look, but acquiesced and sat down.
“Is there something else?”
“Actually, yes." She looked into his golden-yellow eyes, unsure of whether she should divulge her suspicions to him. She always encouraged her friends and patients to discover their abilities and aspects of their character for themselves, but this case was different. Data was unique. His physical strength far outmatched any biological being, as did his mental prowess; however, he still possessed a kind of vulnerability when it came to his place in the known world. He was alone.
Deanna bit her lip. "You know, Data, in all honesty, I don’t believe you are as completely devoid of emotion as you seem to think.”
If the android didn’t look confused before, he certainly did now. “But, Coun— Deanna. I am an android. I have no processors built in me to feel and express emotion as you do. It is, as you said, beyond my capabilities.”
“—‘As of yet’, Data. That ‘yet’ is extremely important. And this isn’t just conjecture. Well, not completely, anyway.” Again Data lifted an eyebrow, almost incredulously. She forged on. “After all, you know, I’ve been studying you, just as you have studied us. Did you know that?”
“Well, yes. After all, there are many who are interested in the construction, function and inner workings of my positronic brain, after all.“
“That is true, but those people are mainly studying Data the android. I am talking about Data the person.”
“Oh?” Again, Data regarded her curiously. “And what have your studies shown you?”
“My studies have shown me a lot. In fact….” Here she leaned in, closing the gap between them, and Data, either from curiosity or mimicry, did the same. “In fact, Data, I have come to the conclusion that you may feel much more than you are aware.”
He tilted his head, frowning as he drew back to his original position. “No. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am afraid you are mistaken. I am incapable of emotion, but I appreciate your considerate words. You must think very well of me.”
“Yes I do, but that’s not the reason why I’m saying this. Listen: for all their complexities, emotions are really just a frame of mind. The same circumstances that could cause one person to laugh may cause another to be upset, and their responses can largely be based on a frame of mind.”
Data nodded. “Ah, indeed, I have seen it in action. Since I often find myself ruminating over how to best encourage my peers to feel ‘joy’, I have analyzed each one of my memories containing instances of laughter or smiling in an endeavor to properly inflict that emotion on others. In my studies, I have concluded that out of the 13,494 instances I have stored under those parameters, 7,426 of those instances have also caused either the same or a different person to frown or otherwise be upset under very similar circumstances. As I am sure you are aware, this makes it difficult to correctly predict what will make someone happy.”
“You’re very perceptive, Data, especially when it comes to others. But let’s talk about you.”
“Certainly, Deanna. what aspect of me do you wish to discuss?”
“Wishes,” she said simply. “Namely, yours.”
“Wishes?”
“Yes. I know you have them. Wishes, goals, ambitions…. However, you would like to call them. Data, what is your biggest wish?”
He seemed fixated on the word. “Wish,” he repeated, studying the carpet. “My wish.” He looked up. “My wish, as I am sure you are aware, Deanna, is to become more like that which I emulate. In short, to become human.”
She smiled. “I thought you would say that. And in so doing, you helped me to prove my point.”
This time, both of Data’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “I fail to understand. Please explain.”
“Another word for ‘wish’ is ‘desire’. Data, I think I can safely say that you have a desire to become human. In other words, a feeling of want, of need. And I think I can also safely say that it is not the only desire you have. From what I’ve seen, you also have a desire to care for others, for your friends, and for Spot.” She opened her mouth to continue but realized that Data’s mind was elsewhere.
“Desire?” Data whispered as he stared at a button on the couch. He mentally organized and studied files from his memory. “I have desires….”
Deanna sat quietly as he mulled over the concept. He was twiddling his thumbs again, his eyes now darting back and forth under knitted brows. Perhaps she ought to have been more tactful with her words, or maybe spoke with one of the others before trying to convince an android that he was capable of emotions. This wasn’t the kind of case she was trained to handle. She bit the inside of her cheek as she watched him process. Finally, he looked back into her eyes.
“While it is undeniably true that I do endeavor to accomplish self-created goals, I think I may need more information before I can believe your words. In the interim, I have a lot to think about. May I come back tomorrow to discuss this with you further?”
Relieved, Deanna smiled. “Yes, of course. My door is always open to you, Data.”
She walked him to the door and watched him, his eyes cast downward as he moved down the hallway toward the turbo lift. She hoped that she had done the right thing. She felt confident in her assertion that Data was able to emote on some level, but she still felt unsure about the way she presented the topic.
Of all her patients, Data was by far the most perplexing.