NOTE: This story takes place at the end of “Nemesis.”
The moment that took him was far from dark. Quite the contrary; the air around him crackled and exploded, pushing him away in the very instant that it pulled him apart. He became dimly aware that there was silence as his auditory circuits failed, dimly aware that there were no ocular circuits left to speak of. Self-diagnostic were offline, several memory engrams destroyed. And yet still there was another moment left, one he was glad his internal chronometer no longer functioned for because then he could make it, in what was left of his mind, last forever.
He still held the peace of his decision; he had chosen this sacrifice. There was comfort in knowing the sum of his experiences would continue on and he let go of any anxiety the chip still managed to bleed out. The darkness continued to fall upon him, this time a stronger, colder version. Colder? It was odd to assign a temperature to what remained, and yet, that was what he felt. As if the energy fading from his remaining circuits would leave him frozen.
In the millisecond that he spent suspended in time and thought, he traced over the memories of his friends. Of his cat, Spot. And, as all he knew dissipated into the vacuum of space, of her.
Awakening was not the right word. Instead, where there had been cold and darkness, slowly crept in warmth and light. There were no eyes to open, but the light refocused in front of him inconsiderate of this fact. He became aware that he was standing and, as his perception focused downward, that he was unclothed. The hue of his skin seemed to hover above itself, bleeding out until a halo of warm golden light surrounded him. He started to move although it required no motion; floating effortlessly forward toward a point far off. It would not focus as the space and the sight of his own body had, so he willed himself towards it even as it moved towards him. There was a draw he couldn’t deny, a pull he couldn’t explain anymore than his surroundings or what had brought him here.
There was a similar glow to the object, much like his own but richer, warmer. It swirled in a column and stopped just short of his approach.
“Data.”
His head tilted from habit and watched as an arm reached out slowly from the light, surprisingly solid and with an open hand. As he looked back up, a face stared back at him smiling and the need to make sense of any of it melted away. The smile now almost splitting his own face, the tears welling in his eyes, the touch of her hand as he took it in his were all that mattered now. Those things and the lump in his throat as he spoke her name:
“Tasha.”
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oh my soul is waiting patiently
will you ever find your way back home to me
somewhere I lost upon the journey
a love that was mislaid somwhere in time
oh, my love, my heart is aching for you
will you ever find your way back to me
sometimes I feel I almost touch you
I turn and almost see your face
for a moment my heart stops
till the crowd moves on and fills the space
oh my life will be here waiting
for you my love to find your way back home to me
-Excerpted from the song “Back Home to Me”, Sophie Milman
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