Only Human: Part I, Section 2 of 10 Only Human An ST:TNG Alternate Universe Novel by Alara Rogers ONLY HUMAN is a work in progress, and it's very, very long. I have broken Part I (I think there will be six parts, total) into 10 subsections for ease of posting, and ease of other people reading; Part I is over 300 K, so I've broken it into sections of between 10 and 60 K so no one's newsreader vomits. These sections are done with some eye to logical breaking points, such as major scene changes, but the story was not originally written with the need for breaking points in mind. The separate subsections do not have individual titles; the chapter name for Part I, total, is "Starbase 56/Enterprise". This is, as yet, something of a draft-- if I find it necessary to revise based on what happens in parts IV-VI, or however many I end up writing, I will do so. The most recent version is available from various archive sites. Check out: ftp://ftp.netcom.com/pub/al/aleph/trek ftp://ftp.europa.com/outgoing/mercutio/alt.fan.q ftp://aviary.share.net/pub/startrek/incomplete (though maybe I will move it from incomplete, if I can figure out whether it belongs in TNG or other) http://www.europa.com/~mercutio/Q.html http://aviary.share.net/~alara http://www1.mhv.net/~alara/ohtree.html ONLY HUMAN is an Aleph Press production, not-for-profit, and not intended to infringe on anybody's copyrights. The universe, the Enterprise crew, and the main character were created by Paramount; most of the secondary characters were created by me, with the exception of yet more Paramount characters and some other people who know who they are. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is probably intentional. Send comments, criticism, praise and flames to aleph@netcom.com. Or post your comments here-- I have a very thick skin. * * * The restaurant/lounge was subdued at this hour of the morning; there were enough people that no individual conversation stood out, while not enough for it to be crowded. As Counselor Nian Medellin came in, she had no trouble picking out Q-- he sat by himself at a table by a port, staring out at the stars. She was almost surprised he'd shown up. Medellin had purposely asked to meet him in the lounge because he was too intimidating in home territory, like his quarters. He knew precisely how to use his body language to maximize visitors' discomfort-- or if he didn't know how, he had an amazing unconscious talent for it-- and Medellin was a small woman, while he was a rather tall man. He already had enough of an advantage. She hoped that sitting in a public place, across a table, would protect her enough from his talents at obnoxiousness that she'd be able to help him. Medellin sat down at the table, across from him. "Would you like to talk about it?" He didn't look at her, continuing to gaze at the stars. "Talk about what?" "What's bothering you. Sekal thought you might be more depressed than usual--" "Sekal, of course, is an expert on human emotion." "Commodore Anderson agreed with him. Is it the news about Captain Picard?" "Is what?" She calmed herself silently. He was hurting, and she was base counselor. It didn't matter how unpleasant he was, she had to help him if she could. "I'm very sorry. I know he defended you when you first came here." "What makes you think this is about Picard?" "It's natural to be depressed when you've suffered a loss--" He turned around. "Oh, you're so unbelievably dense. Do you seriously think I would prostrate myself with grief over Picard? This has nothing to do with him. I can't say I was happy to hear the news that he'd died, but to assume that that's what's bothering me is not only illogical, but arrogant in the extreme. Who are you to tell me why I'm depressed?" "So you admit that you *are* depressed." "Of course I'm depressed! I've been depressed since before I got here! You're a poor excuse for a counselor if you haven't noticed by *now*, Nian." "I mean that it's gotten worse lately. It has, hasn't it?" Q turned up his wrists and looked down at them. There were no scars-- Dr. Li had done his work well. "I've been wondering what the point to mortal existence is," he said, and looked up at her. "Since you're all going to die in the end anyway, why fight so hard to make it later rather than sooner? In the grand scheme of things, mortal lives are meaningless." "So you believe?" "So I *know*. I don't have the luxury of holding grand illusions about the importance of my fate to the universe. I know exactly how much my life is worth this way. Struggle on for another 80 or 90 years and then what? Death anyway. Why not speed things up? What's the *point?*" "The point is the happiness we can enjoy while we're still alive." "Dear me. I thought the point was supposed to be the difference we could make to the universe. Are you advocating wanton hedonism now?" "Most of us feel more fulfilled when we're doing something that makes a difference. We have friends that care about us, and people whose company we enjoy, and things we want to do in our lives." He smiled mirthlessly. "You've just argued my point for me, Counselor. *I* have no reason to go on living." Medellin cursed inwardly. Q talked about suicide a lot, and had made two somewhat half-hearted attempts, seemingly more to get attention than to seriously do himself in. This might simply be another ploy. But he sounded sincere this time. "That can't be true. Not entirely." "Believe what you like, Nian, but I know how I feel. There is no one who cares about me, except as a valuable commodity to the Federation; no one whose company I enjoy anymore; and nothing I particularly want to do. And I think you left out the most important reason you humans go on living-- your fear of the unknown. You don't know what death is, and it frightens you-- your typical primitive response to that which you don't know and can't understand." "I don't think that's primitive. We have every reason to fear something as unknown as death." "But I do know what death is." He looked down again. "And I'm quite certain that avoiding it is not worth all this." She tried the tactic that had worked last time. "I thought the Continuum told you that if you stuck it out, they might give you your powers back." Q laughed bitterly. "I believed that for three years. They simply knew how to push my buttons, that's all. I don't seriously believe they ever meant that, now. They won't forgive me." "You don't know that. What if they were planning on giving it back to you soon, and you kill yourself? You'd be cutting yourself off from immortality." "And what if they're waiting for me to get tired of their silly game and opt out of it before they give it back? Don't try to second-guess them, Nian. You're only human. Even *I* wouldn't presume to guess what they're doing anymore, and I used to know them as well as I knew myself." "You enjoy some things, don't you? You've collected all those antiques from Earth--" He smirked. "Those were primarily valuable in that it amused me to watch you all scrambling to get them for me. Do you seriously think material toys can keep me happy? You really are a terrible counselor, aren't you?" "I don't often have patients as determined to be unhappy as you are." "I'm not determined to be unhappy. It just worked out that way. I'm simply not cut out for living as a human." "You deny yourself the potential of human life. In all the time you've been here, you've never set foot on a planet, never used the holodeck or any other recreational equipment, had no sexual contact with anyone--" He grimaced. "Oh, *please*. I just ate." "Why do you consider sex so disgusting? It's only a human biological function, like eating and sleeping. There's nothing inherently disgusting about it-- or there shouldn't be, to one who didn't grow up under a repressive moral system." "I think you fail to understand. Eating and sleeping *are* disgusting. I perform them because I have no choice. I can't keep myself awake indefinitely and if I stopped eating, you'd just force-feed me. But I won't go out of my way to experience a vile human biological function if I don't have to, and sex is not a requirement for human existence." "Some would say it's a requirement for happy human existence." "Most of Earth's Orthodox Catholic priests would disagree. Besides, leaving aside the repulsiveness of the act and how silly it looks, who would have me? Don't think I don't know about the opinion people on this station hold of me. Or are you suggesting that you or someone responsible for my welfare would provide me a partner, for the sake of my mental health?" He shook his head. "Even if I wanted it, I wouldn't want it on those terms." "What about the holodeck?" "For sex? You *are* disgusting." "I meant in general. You never use it, or any of the other recreational facilities." "What would I use it for? To play for a brief moment at being a god comes a very poor second to actually being one. And the holodeck can't free me from the limitations of this shell. It can only give me what my human senses can perceive. Why can't you understand that the biological facts of my existence are appalling to me? You think I should be glad to be alive, whatever the price. Suppose you were blind, deaf, crippled and confined to a bed. All your sensory knowledge of the world must come in through touch, and you must depend on others to touch you, others who don't even like you. Would you be glad to be alive?" Medellin shook her head. "You're being self-pitying again, Q. Your situation is not nearly that bad." "Compared to what I had before? It's worse." "You can't dwell on the past! It doesn't matter what you had before. What matters is what you are now." She leaned forward. "I agree with you that your lack of friends is a problem, but don't you realize you've done that to yourself? We were ready to welcome you with open arms when you first came, and you antagonized *everyone*. I think what you need is a vacation." "Excuse me?" He stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted an extra head. "I mean it. Not for very long; we couldn't take the risk that your enemies would track you down away from the safety of the base. But an opportunity to meet new people, and possibly *not* antagonize them immediately this time; to get out of your routine, maybe find something that you do enjoy doing. From the amounts you've read since you came here, I assume you like to learn new things." "Nothing I learn is *new*," he said, scowling. "I used to know everything. I've just forgotten most of it." "Well, then you enjoy relearning things. Don't you?" "I suppose so. Inasmuch as I enjoy anything." "Well, I think that's it. Travel, new experiences, new people-- you're too good at antagonizing people for me to believe it's anything but deliberate. If you really *wanted* to make friends, I think you could. Maybe you could go to Earth. I know you have an interest in Earth history." "Hardly an interest. I was engaged in the study of humans and their history when I was condemned. Since the knowledge was uppermost in my mind, I remembered most of it." "Whatever it is. Would you like to go to Earth?" He sighed. "You won't stop hounding me, will you? Certainly. Schedule a vacation for me. Send me to Earth. I'm sure it's exactly what I need and will solve all my silly problems." "You don't need to be sarcastic. Just think of it this way. What have you got to lose?" "Nothing," he said soberly. "Nothing at all." "All right." Medellin stood up. "I'll talk to the Commodore about it; it might take a few days to schedule. Just hang on, okay? Things aren't as bad as you think they are." She smiled winningly at him. Q stared at her, then shrugged and half-smiled back. Medellin nodded and left the lounge. Q watched her go, his smile widening and becoming bitter, mocking. Let her entertain herself trying to stave off the inevitable. It was already too late. He stood up, pushing aside his chair, and walked out of the lounge. In his quarters, he took the bottle of etching solution out of the drawer again and held it up to the light, popping off the cap. The solution inside was colorless, resembling water. But the strong acidic smell that wafted up from inside spoke of something far harsher to flesh than water would be. *I've held out for so long. Three years is nothing to you, I know. But it's been longer than eternity, to me. And you haven't given me any reason to keep hanging on. So I'm afraid I'm going to end your little experiment. If there are any objections, let's hear them now.* No voices spoke in his head. No flash of light heralded a visitor. He hadn't really expected anything like that, but even still, a tiny shred of hope died in the silence around him. *All right then. Let's get this over with.*