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For more than a century, the standard throughout Starfleet has been to send messages, whether important or personal through subspace. Such means have been proven reasonably secure and rarely has Starfleet Command broken from the routine. That's why it comes as a surprise to both Data and I when Commander Aricia knocks at our front door...another outdated example. The Newton house has never been equipped with an annunciator to maintain its antiquity.
When Data allows Aricia into the house, I notice that the commander is holding a small padd in his hand. He is a tall, thin man of about sixty. "I've been asked to personally deliver this invitation to you," Aricia says, handing the padd to Data.
Data reads the message to himself before speaking. "We will both gladly attend," he says.
I take a couple steps toward Data. "Attend what?" I ask, a bit perturbed that my presence is being promised somewhere without my acceptance.
"Earth is swearing in a new president."
"Bring the invitation with you when you arrive," Aricia tells Data. "It will serve as your pass for admittance. Now if you'll excuse me, I have more invitations to deliver.
Data sees him out before turning to again address me. "This is a most prestigious honor, Shannara, to be chosen to attend the presidential inauguration party. This invitation is in my name, but I am permitted to bring a date."
"A date! Data you don't want to take me. I'm sure there are plenty of beautiful women around who would be delighted to accompany you. How would it look if you showed up with one of your students?"
"Why do you assume people would believe my intentions are disreputable? I served Starfleet for twenty-five years, retired with full honors and now hold the chairman's position at Cambridge. You need more exposure to social situations. That is why I choose to take you."
"I raise my arms in supplication. "All right, I'll go."
*****
Once I make up my mind to accept Data's invitation, I begin imagining how I will appear and realize I am actually quite excited about the chance to attend such a prestigious gathering. What will I wear? How will I fix my hair? I browse through online catalogues from designers residing on Earth and nearby colonies. I think about how simple it would be to use the powers of the Q to produce the perfect ball gown, but I want to please Data. After hours of careful deliberation, I select a dress from a designer in New York. It is made from peach taffeta with a wide skirt flowing just below my knees, no neck line, a low back and a bow across the waist. I also select a white button down sweater to cover my shoulders. Next, I work on my hair, a far easier task. I decide to wear it up with a few loose strands for effect. I lightly apply facial creme and eye shadow, spending several minutes in front of the mirror perfecting my appearance.
When I join Data downstairs, he nods his approval. "You look beautiful," he tells me. He, too, looks handsome in the three-piece royal blue suit he has chosen. He wraps his arm around mine and we walk outside to make the shuttle ride to Paris.
The celebration is taking place in Paris at the Riviera Hotel, which has stood for more than three hundred years against the Seine River. On the first floor, there is a large ballroom and adjacent to that is a small room with a bar. Every room in the hotel is equipped with a replicator, but the barroom is virtually unchanged from the day the hotel was built.
Aricia is standing at the front door, checking everyone's passes. Although he obviously delivered many of them, he doesn't waver from his responsibilities and insists on seeing Data's padd. Once we are admitted, Data escorts me through the double doors and into the ballroom.
"I will find us a suitable table," Data says. "You should interact with the other guests for a while."
Absently, I nod as Data starts to walk away. I find the sudden change of atmosphere shocking. Music from the past several decades is playing in the ballroom and many of the guests are dancing. Others are drinking synthale, eating hors d'oeuvres and chatting. The room is overwhelmed with cheer and giddiness. I don't know anyone. Why did I agree to attend this social? I don't fit in with their kind. So Earth is swearing in another president. He's not my president. I'm only a guest on this planet and I will always be no matter how long I stay.
Taking in a deep breath, a vow to make it through this night for Data's sake.
I've seen pictures of the new president. He's a tall man in his fifties with pepper-colored hair and a broad smile. Scanning the room, I don't see him. Maybe he plans to wait until the last of his guests arrive to ensure he will be addressing everyone when he makes his speech. No one seems perturbed by his absence and I consider that grand entrances may be the norm in the political arena.
After several minutes, Data returns to my side, having noticed that I am lingering at the entrance door. "Mingle, Shannara," he says. "These people wish to meet you."
"I don't think they care whether they get to know me," I respond. "And I doubt they'd like me anyway."
Placing his arm around me, Data gently walks me a few meters away from the entrance. "Your negative attitude will never entice anyone to get to know you. There is a likeable person within you. Do not cover her up with pessimism."
I watch Data's face as the dance lights turn it green then red then green again. It is almost comical against his serious expression. I maintain control; to laugh would deeply hurt Data.
"All right. I'll give it a try, but I haven't had much luck making friends in the past."
Walking the length of the room, I study the faces and the behavior of each attendant as I pass them. Most of the women are wearing glamorous jewelry and I bring my hand to my neck suddenly feeling bare. I had not thought to decorate myself. Although I receive courteous smiles from some of the people I pass, I sense none are eager to engage in a conversation with a minor. They don't know me. They don't know that my I.Q. test scores are some of the highest in the galaxy. And they certainly don't know that Q made that possible. (Is that a small blessing?) They view me as an ordinary child and that's all right with me.
Making my way to the other side of the room, I approach a man wearing a hat with his back turned toward me. I can sense he's not enjoying the party any more than I am and feel a sense of kinship in that acknowledgment. "Excuse me, sir," I say. "I'm new around here and don't know very many people. I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me."
"Why surely I'd love to," he says, whirling around and flipping off his hat in one fluid motion. He takes my hand into his and whirls me around, his steps in sync with the music.
"Q!" I exclaim as I follow his lead. "This is the last place I expected to find you. Since when do you care whether Earth swears in another president or not?"
"That's a fine howdy do, especially when I came all this way to rescue you. Look around." He removes his hand from my shoulder long enough to wave his arm to indicate everyone in the room.
Although there are many faces for me to scan, my focus lands on a nearby couple, both dressed in white. The man has a red rose in his lapel and his date has matching roses pinned to her hat. I see how they look at one another as they sway close and sense their enduring bond.
"Do you really want to make friends with these constituents?" Q asks, bringing me back to our discussion "Look who they voted into office."
"Data says that Duis will make a fine president."
"What has this Duis promised these mortals? He hasn't the power to deliver. Please do tell me you're not persuaded to follow his rule."
"And with your power you could deliver so much more, I suppose."
"I do offer you so much more: longevity, superiority...."
"Peace? Do you offer me the peace Earth has known for so long?"
The music changes to a slower tune and Q pulls me closer into a more intimate dance. Although this makes me feel uncomfortable, I know Q's intentions have always been platonic. He sees me more as a daughter. "My dear child," he whispers inside my ear, "you must find peach within you. Only then will you have the opportunity to make peace without."
I want to be mad at Q, to continue lashing out at him. He's ignored my calls ever since I arrived at Earth and now, he shows up seemingly for the purpose to circumvent my prmise to Data to make new friends. However, I feel deeply moved by his speech and suddenly understand what he truly hopes to accomplish within the Continuum. A peace treaty would only be a superficial solution. As long as factions continue to exist, so will conflicts.
"I don't know how to do that, and I don't think you do either," I say boldly. "Otherwise, you would have united the factions long before I came into existence."
Before Q can respond , Data steps up to us and says, "Q, perhaps you will allow me to take over now. I have something I wish to discuss with Shannara."
"If the lady wishes it," Q responds.
"I do," I confirm.
"Very well." To my surprise, he releases his grip on my shoulder and steps aside. "I'll simply mingle with the other boys and girls until you come to your senses and call for me." Walking away, Q approaches two women in elegantly sequined evening gowns. He says something to them that I can't quite hear and the women laugh.
"Let's sit down at a table," Data says to me. "There is someone I would like you to meet."
"All right," I respond and follow him over to a table where a black woman with a big frilly hat is sitting. Her long-sleeved flowing dress exudes the color of sunshine. She smiles warmly at me and I have the strange sensation that she knows me though we've never met.
"Hello, Shannara," she says. "My name is Guinan. I'm an old friend of Data's. I used to tend bar on the Enterprise when Picard was her captain."
"Hello," I say politely, although inwardly, I wonder why I've never met her if she's a long-time friend of the Enterprise crew. As I probe her emotions, I sense her awareness of my mental presence and retreat in alarm. Who is she really? I furrow my brow, scrutinizing her and try to surmise with my eyes what I couldn't telepathically. She's not Betazoid, Vulcan or Akodian, but clearly she has strong telepathic abilities.
Outwardly, she appears calm and collective. Anyone observing our exchange would not realize the underlying tug-of-war between us.
"There's someone else here whom I've known for a very very long time. We go back centuries in fact."
"You know Q." If she's known him for centuries, what dealings has she had with Q? Maybe he offered her immortality in exchange for the use of her telepathy. Then for some reason a rift grew between them and Q needed another telepath to help him with his cause. I eye Data suspiciously, realizing he probably asked this woman to lecture me about my involvement with Q.
"He and I have had some dealings, but he didn't give me immortality. My species, the El Aurians, are long lived. I could spend days telling you about my dealings with Q, but what I really want is to hear you tell about your involvement with him."
I shrug, not seeing what harm or good it will do to talk of Q. It will help pass the time. "He came to me when I was five and told me he'd given me the power of the Q. After he explained exactly what that meant, I told him I didn't want it, but he wouldn't take it back. Since then he's popped into my life many times, always trying to convince me to follow him into the Continuum and help him with his cause." I pause, waiting for a response. When Guinan doesn't speak, I continue. "He claims that he not only made me smart, but that he created this verse so I could exist and thus he claims to be my true father."
"He does not behave as a father," Data interjects. "He shows up when he feels like it no matter how inconvenient it is for others. He has a blatant disregard for our wishes."
Guinan raises her empty glass to stop my mentor. "Data, could you refill my drink?"
Understanding dawning on his face, Data nods and takes the empty glass from Guinan and heads to the bar to refill it.
Once he is out of earshot, Guinan continues. "Obviously, Mr. Data has strong feelings on the subject. You have an android and a super-powerful being vying for your affection and your loyalty, while your father....at least your biological one...chooses to leave you alone. How do you feel about that?"
"Like a child trapped in the middle of a custody battle," I reply. "They ask me what I want and tell me I have the right to live the life I want, but most of the time I don't feel I have a choice in the matter. My destiny was sealed the day I was conceived."
"What do you see as that destiny?"
Data is approaching us with Guinan's refill and I try to convince myself that he is the key to my future, that all I need is his guidance. In all honesty, I don't know the answer. I open my mouth to speak only to be interrupted.
"Good evening, my fellow socialites," Q says, using a microscope so he can be heard over the din. Rather than pinning the button-sized instrument to his jacket, Q is holding it in his open palm. The room quickly grows silent as everyone turns their attention to the unexpected announcer. I close my eyes and silently cringe as I expect him to spiel off all the reasons Duis will make an incompetent president. "The moment you've all been waiting for is upon us. The president's shuttle has just arrived and he's on his way inside now." I open my eyes and follow the gaze of the crowd to the double doors. By this time, Data has made his way back to our table and sits down beside me. He is very tense and wants to upstage Q, to let all these naive people know who they are listening to. Q cannot be up to any good.
Duis and his wife walk through the door accompanied by three bodyguards. He waves at the crowd before stepping up to Q's side. For a brief moment I believe that the president not only knows Q, but is on friendly terms with him. Then as he takes the microphone from Q, pinning it to his jacket, I realize that I've mistaken his elation toward the crowd as feelings of familiarity. "Thank you sir, for that warm welcome," Duis says. "And thank all of you for coming to welcome me into office." His speech last for the next several minutes transcending into a oration about his planned accomplishments while he's in office.
I listen to portions of it, but my attention is divided between the president, Q, Guinan and Data. Q is eyeing our small group and I can feel contempt flowing from Data and Guinan toward Q. If either of them had the power to convert Q into a targ, they would do so gleefully.
I am appalled when Q moves toward us, with a mischievous smile. He knows he will not receive a warm welcome from my companions and so I conclude that he wishes to antagonize them. He should not expect a warm welcome from me either. By this time, Guinan has finished her second drink and is toying with her empty drink in anticipation of a third.
"Is this seat taken?" Q asks, pointing at the empty chair next to Guinan.
"If you sit there, I will..." Guinan begins.
"Ah, you will? I had no idea you cared so much." Q seems so delighted to play this game with Guinan that I don't sense any animosity within him directed at her.
"Q, this is not the place for this," I say, still hopeful he will listen to reason.
"Not the place?"
"No!" Guinan exclaims with abject horror and instantly I realize my mistake. Inside a Q-flash, the four of us travel to another verse. What game will we be pawns to?
