textfiles/sf/STARTREK/datasfir

Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!caen!uunet!spsgate!mogate!newsgate!NewsWatcher
From: Ron_Stein@SPS.MOT.COM (Ron Stein)
Subject: REPOST: Data's First Christmas
Message-ID: <Ron_Stein-081292094624@222.194.55.22>
Followup-To: alt.startrek.creative
Sender: usenet@newsgate.sps.mot.com
Nntp-Posting-Host: 222.194.55.22
Organization: Motorola SPS
Date: Tue, 8 Dec 1992 16:47:29 GMT
Lines: 511

Here it is again. Merry Christmas!



This is my first posting to Internet.  I thought you all might enjoy this
"Christmasy" Trek story.  I wrote this several years ago for my wife,
Collette, who was feeling blue around Christmas.  BTW - The gift that Troi
receives in the story is exactly what I got Collette for Christmas, right
down to the note attached.  Paginini's Theme is the love theme from
"Somewhere in Time", with Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour. 
 


DATA'S FIRST CHRISTMAS


"Geordie, can you explain the concept of "Christmas Spirit" to me?"

Geordie LaForge looked up from his snack, and smiled at the innocent,
quizzical look on the face of his android friend Data.  "Here we go again!"
he thought.  The two of them were sitting in their favorite booth in
Ten-Forward, the crew lounge of the Federation Starship Enterprise.  The
two met like this just after their watch ended nearly every day.  Geordie
would grab a quick snack, and then they'd spend time chatting with friends,
or just people watching.  Ten-Forward was an ideal spot for this, with its
near constant hum of activity.  It was the cultural heart of the ship.  For
Geordie, people watching served the same purpose that it had for young men
since time began.  For Data, it was an education.

"Why do you ask, Data?  I mean, what brought this up?"

"It is something I have noticed in the past, and I am observing it again
here on board the Enterprise.  As the Christmas anniversary approaches,
beings of many races and faiths become kinder toward one another, and they
seem happier.  This is called "The Christmas Spirit".  I do not
understand."

Geordie wondered briefly how an android managed to look perplexed, then
asked "Data, how much do you know about Christmas?"  Knowing Data's
proclivity for detail, he quickly added "Just a summary, please.  I've
already read the Bible."

"Of course, I too have read the Bible, as well as many other works
associated with Christianity and the legend of Christ.  I have also read a
broad selection of fictional Christmas stories from many lands and planets
with Christmas traditions.  I have viewed several video presentations of
Christmas lore, and read many poems, hymns, and carols.  However, even
after my studies, I have failed to grasp the Christmas spirit."

"Data, I'm not sure I can explain.  Christmas spirit is something you kinda
have to experience. It's a lot of things: kindness toward others, a feeling
of kinship with other creatures, a positive outlook, happy anticipation..."
 Geordie hesitated, and said "It's like love, it can't be understood just
by having it explained to you."  Geordie paused again, recognizing the
troubled look on his friend's face.

A casual observer would not have noticed a change of expression at all, but
then, Geordie wasn't just a casual observer.  Even if he hadn't been Data's
closest friend, his electronically enhanced eyesight would have spotted the
subtle change in the servo mechanisms that controlled Data's facial
apparatus.  "Look, Data, don't feel bad.  We all run up against things like
this.  Take me for instance.  When I look at a rainbow, all I see are
readouts of prismatically scattered light.  It's interesting, but it's sure
not beautiful.  I just can't understand the fuss most people make when they
see a rainbow.  Maybe for you, Christmas spirit is the same sorta thing."

"I have considered that." said Data, "It is conceivable that this may be a
subtlety which my programming cannot comprehend.  Still, I sense that I
have merely missed some key point."

"Well don't give up yet, Data.  Say, have you spoken to Counselor Troi?  If
anyone can help you with this, she can.  That lady has quite a knack for
making sense out of this kind of stuff."  Geordie found himself becoming a
little concerned;  his mechanical friend was easily depressed, a decidedly
emotional response from someone who wasn't sure if he was capable of
emotion.

"Perhaps you are right, Geordie.  I will call her."



Deanna Troi had a small office adjacent to her cabin.  It was simply
decorated with a fleet issue desk and chair, a bookshelf lining one wall,
and a comfortable old loveseat.  A lush trident plant from Canopus 3 rose
from behind the loveseat, and completed the sparse decor.

Troi sat at the desk, considering her next visitor.  She usually met
crewmembers for consultation in more casual surroundings, to help put them
at ease.  In Data's case, one threw away such standard practice.  There was
no "rule of thumb" to guide her when dealing with Data's one of a kind
positronic personality. "Maybe Data would feel more at ease in one of the
engineering repair bays, surrounded by other machinery", she mused.

She found Data a unique problem in another important way as well. 
Throughout her career as a psychologist, she had been helped enormously by
her Betazoid empathic abilities.  These abilities, coupled with a sharp,
incisive mind and a tender heart, had made her a natural counselor.

With Data, things were somewhat more difficult.  His emotional resonance
was almost non-existent.  Almost, but not quite.  Occasionally, faintly,
she would sense a wisp of . . . something . . . from Data.  It was always
ethereal, fleeting; like a hint of salt air thirty kilometers from the sea.
 The touch was so light, she was never even sure it was there.  At these
times she realized how much she relied on her empathic talents to perform
her job.  In trying to counsel Data, she felt like a surgeon forced to
operate with one hand.

At precisely the scheduled time, her office door annunciator chimed.  "Come
in, Data." she called.  As he entered, she motioned him toward the
loveseat, and asked pleasantly "And what can I do for you?"

Again different from humans, and so adding to Troi's uneasiness, Data went
straight to the point.  "Counselor, I am having difficulty comprehending
certain aspects of the Christmas season.  I have studied the relevant texts
and literature associated with the Terran Christmas tradition, and I
believe I understood them.  My problem is with the concept of Christmas
spirit, and the impact it seems to have on the crew of the Enterprise.  I
have noticed that beings throughout the ship, regardless of race or
religious background, are displaying happier and kinder behavior.  There is
a subtlety here that I cannot grasp.  I would like to understand."

"I see" she said, stalling.  She thought for a moment, then asked "What is
it that troubles you about this, Data?  Is it the concept of Christmas
spirit itself, or are you finding that you don't share the spirit, and that
is troubling you?"

Data's pause was a classic for him: his head turned a couple of degrees
from Troi, and tilted just a bit.  His brow wrinkled as he considered her
questions.  He turned back to her.  "Counselor, I would say that it is the
latter:  I am troubled that I don't find the Christmas spirit within me." 
He seemed surprised, as if the notion had been a revelation.

"Lucky guess!" thought Troi, with relief.  At least she'd identified the
problem.

"Okay, let's talk about that.  Why do you find this troubling."

Again Data paused.  This was clearly a new area of self-exploration for
him.  "As you know, I aspire to be as nearly human as possible.  I want to
`fit in', I believe is the expression.  To fail to share in something which
seems so universal, and so desirable, as the Christmas spirit would be
evidence of failure.  It causes me to doubt my capacity for `humanness'."

Troi stood up, her eyes downcast in thought, and slowly walked about the
office.  She stopped near a display shelf, and absentmindedly picked up a
small Santa Claus figurine.  It had been a treasured gift from her father
when she was nine, and was her earliest clear memory of Christmas.  She
stared at it vacantly.

Her eyes returned to focus, but she continued to stare at the figurine. 
She spoke, not bothering to turn toward Data.  "First Data, I want you to
understand that Christmas spirit is not something automatically felt by all
humans, or all Christians either.  In fact, most people will find
themselves without it at sometime in their lives, and this can be due to a
wide variety of circumstances."  She paused again, and said slowly, to
herself more than to him, "But I don't think that will prove to be a
satisfying answer for you."

Data sat patiently, as the Counselor was clearly deep in thought.  She
slowly turned toward him, and asked, almost tentatively,"Data, how long ago
were you found by Starfleet?"

"I was discovered eleven years, 4 months, and twelve days ago by a
Starfleet rescue team."

"And how have you spent your time since?  Just a general review, please,
not a detailed one."

"I spent approximately 2.8 years being evaluated in the Starfleet
Analytical Laboratories, 4.1 years at Starfleet Academy, and the remaining
4.5 years have been on active duty as a Starfleet officer."  He paused
briefly, then asked "Counselor, is this pertinent to our discussion?"

"It could be.  You see, what we commonly perceive as the `Christmas spirit'
is very often a reflection of an individual's collected memories of
Christmas.  As a person ages, he accumulates fond memories of Christmas. 
These memories serve as reminders of past happiness, and help promote a
pleasant disposition, which is evoked more and more as each succeeding
Christmas approaches.  In short, they are happy now, because they were
happy then."

"Of course," she continued, "this is a very simplistic definition.  There
are many other reasons why people may appear happier at this time of year. 
 For some people, the Christmas season is a time to rejoice in the life of
Jesus Christ, either as a heavenly Savior, or merely a gifted philosopher. 
For others, the reason may be a holiday entirely separate from Christian
tradition; many faiths seem to have celebrations which happen to coincide
with the Christmas season."

Data considered this momentarily, then said "I see.  Then you are
suggesting that my failure to have `Christmas spirit' is not indicative of
a dysfunction, but rather a shortage of positive experiences with which to
trigger the reaction."  He said it as a statement, rather than a question.

"It's a possibility.  Why don't you give it some thought?  Then you can
decide what, if anything, you need to do about it."

"Thank you, Counselor." Data said, rising.  "You have been most helpful.  I
will consider what you have suggested."  Then he left.

Troi stared at him as he walked away, wondering if her intuitive
interpretation of the problem would be of any help to Data.  And if it was
helpful, she wondered, what would he do about it?



Data went back to his quarters to consider Troi's suggestion.  He put on
his Sherlock Holmes hat, sat in his overstuffed chair, and, fiddling with
his pipe, he began to think.  Perhaps he could share this human experience
of Christmas spirit after all!  Maybe all he needed was an accumulation of
pleasurable memories.

Data had long suspected that his creator had provided a capacity for him to
feel, or at least simulate, human emotions.  There were several clues:  he
had functional tear ducts, a portion of his neural network had no
discernable function, and perhaps most intriguing, there were two unusual
feedback circuits which were linked to this unused neural area.  One of
these reduced his available power by up to 20% when stimulated.  It made
him "ache" all over when activated.  It had first activated spontaneously
the day Tasha Yar was killed.

The remaining circuit boosted his power by as much as 10%, which seemed to
give him a mild `high'.  This circuit had only been activated in laboratory
tests.

Data began a systematic review of his Christmas research to locate stories
which were considered pleasant or happy.  He then sorted this information,
isolating the activities which seemed to produce happiness at Christmas. 
He screened religious or philosophical means from the sort, since he was
neither religious or philosophical.  He found that the remaining sources of
happiness could be roughly grouped into two categories:  "Giving" and
"Getting".

The "Getting" entries all required the un-coerced spontaneous cooperation
of at least one additional person.  Since this was to be a personal
experiment, the `Getting' entries were eliminated.  To experience pleasure
at Christmas, Data would have to try "Giving".

The center of the distribution of successful "Giving" entries, out to about
three sigma, seemed to be associated with gifts of special personal
significance to the receiver.  Such gifts were uniquely adapted to the
receiver's wants or needs.  To be successful would require great subtlety
in Data; he would need to be especially sensitive and discerning.  This was
going to take some thought.

He began to plan.  There were but 3.2 days until Christmas.



The next morning, Data approached Commander Riker, First Officer of the
Enterprise.  "Sir," he said, "may I make a suggestion?  There are just over
two days until Christmas.  Might we not replace the holographic Christmas
tree in the ballroom with a real tree for this years festivities?"

Will Riker looked at Data, an amused smile on his face.  "Well, that
certainly sounds like a grand idea, Mr. Data, but there are no Federation
planets within two days of here.  How do you propose to procure a real tree
in two days without a Federation planet as a source?"

"Sir, while it is true that there are no planets nearby which are
Federation members, the planet Keeg-Xuled 4 is just over four hours from
our present position.  It supports a human culture placed there by the
Preservers.  We should be able to remove a single tree from the planet
without violating the Prime Directive."

The `Preservers' was the name given to an undiscovered race which had
`seeded' this area of the galaxy with populations of various primitive
Human, Klingon, and Vulcan peoples.  The Federation had charted over twenty
such planets, all at different stages of development.  In each case, the
seeded planet included a full complement of flora and fauna as found on the
home planet.  Keeg-Xuled 4 would certainly have pine trees.

Obviously pleased, Riker said "Excellent Mr. Data!  To quote the Captain,
`Make it so'!"


At Keeg-Xuled, locating a source for Christmas trees was a simple task. 
The ships scanners quickly found a snow-covered mountain valley with a
large population of various pine tree species.  The nearest human
inhabitants were over fifty kilometers away.  Captain Picard even
authorized a two hour shore leave for all ship's personnel, `for purposes
of tobogganing and snow-ball fights'.  Data even arranged a simple lottery
for the ship's children, with the winner being given the privilege of
selecting the ship's official Christmas tree.

Those who chose to take shore leave (about 2/3rds of the ships company) had
a wonderful time.  There were snowmen built, snow angels were made; there
were toboggan races, sled runs, and snowball fights.  Some went skiing,
others skated on a nearby lake, still others managed to go ice fishing.

And Data was in the middle of it all.  He mastered the art of snowball, and
made a snowdroid.  He tried his luck at downhill skiing, but fared better
on a replica Flexible Flyer.  He was just about to strap on ice skates and
have a go at the lake, when the call to return to the Enterprise came. 
There was, after all, a schedule to keep.

His final chore before leaving was to supervise the transport of a huge
Noble Fir up to the Enterprise ballroom.



Late at night on Christmas eve, when all of the bridge crew were huddled
all snug in their beds, a twenty third century Santa Claus strode silently
into the transporter room...


On Christmas morning, Deanna Troi woke feeling especially happy.  She had a
date for breakfast with Will Riker, a tradition the two had enjoyed for as
long as they had known one another.  She also knew that Will would have a
gift for her, another happy tradition to look forward to.

She crawled out of bed and set about her morning routine.  After some light
exercise, she enjoyed a leisurely half hour of bathing, then dressed in a
comfortable, festive red jumpsuit.  She tied it at the waist with a green
sash, which formed a bow above her right hip, making her look like a
Christmas package.  "Quite a present for Mr. Riker" she thought, giggling.

She went to her nightstand and got out the gift she had selected for Will;
a scale model of the solar wind racing vessel he had piloted during his
academy days.  She had often seen him intently watching such ships when the
Enterprise made ports of call at places civilized enough to have them. 
Troi had been pleased when Data offered to produce the finely detailed
craft for her.

As she left her boudoir and went through the sitting room toward the
hallway exit, she saw a delicately wrapped package on the entry table by
the door.  The wrapping was a simple pink paper with a cream colored ribbon
and a flowered bow.  The tag on it read "From Santa Claus".  Her eyes
twinkling with delight, she sat down and opened it.

Inside was a beautiful wooden jewelry box.  It was made of a light colored,
burled wood of fine grain and finish.  It was trimmed in a darker brown
wood, and the top had inlaid flowers of yet another wood.  The flowers were
stained in soft shades of pink, yellow, and orange.  When she raised the
lid, a clockwork chime began to spin.  It softly played a sentimental old
love song.  It's Rachmaninoff!  Paginini's Theme! 

Beneath the lid were a half dozen sinful looking chocolates.  A note which
lay across them proclaimed. "Caution:  These candies are made from 100%
natural ingredients using techniques developed on old Earth.  As such, they
have little or no nutritional value.  Enjoy them in moderation."

"Chocolates!  Real Chocolates!"  She smiled and said simply "Will Riker".



"Deanna, I swear they aren't from me!"  Riker said, a little embarrassed. 
"I wish I'd thought of this, but really, I didn't!"

"But Will, if you didn't send them, who did?"

He shrugged, perplexed, and said "Santa Claus, I guess."



Geordie opened the envelope.  Inside was a traditional old Christmas card
which proclaimed in bold letters "MERRY CHRISTMAS!".  It was signed simply 
"Santa Claus".  Along with the card was a scrap of bright paper, the words
"Holodeck 3, voice coded program SPECTRA" neatly penned on it.

"What the heck is this?" Geordie muttered.  "Okay, I'll bite", he thought. 
He dressed quickly and took the turbolift to Holodeck 3, just down the hall
from Engineering.  He stepped up to the door and said "Computer... load
program SPECTRA, then open."

In a moment the doors hissed open.  Geordie looked in on an alpine meadow
during what appeared to be late spring.  The scent of wildflowers was heavy
in the air, and something small skittered away in the grass before him.  He
saw an old fashioned umbrella leaning against a tree just inside. As he
stepped through the door, he heard a distant rumble of thunder, and gentle
raindrops began to fall on him.

Geordie picked up the umbrella, and began to walk across the damp meadow. 
As he walked, he saw clouds dropping sheets of rain on far off mountains,
and watched a sea of grass wavering in the breeze.  Then, as suddenly as it
had begun, the rain stopped around him.  The breeze blew warmer, as the
clouds overhead began to break up and dissipate.

"Someone went to a lot of trouble to get me wet" he thought.  Just then,
sunlight burst warmly across the meadow before him, while the clouds
surrounding the distant peaks grew darker and lashed the mountains with
bolts of lightning.  Geordie gasped, as a multicolored, translucent display
of shimmering light arced across the sky.  The lights were distinct, each
with its own hue, but they blended strangely where they intersected.  Try
as he might, he couldn't focus on the lines where they met.  He couldn't
resolve the edges, he couldn't even get a readout of its distance.  "It's a
rainbow!" he whispered, "It's beautiful!  Who....".  Then he knew: "Data."
he said simply.  He stayed for a long while, as the storm broke over the
mountains, and the rainbow slowly faded.



The ballroom had been fitted out as a huge living room to receive the
"family" which was the crew of the Enterprise.  In the center was the huge
Christmas tree which had been cut on Keeg-Xuled 4, now extravagantly
decorated.  It glowed with thousands of lights, and little animated
creatures played out scenes on its branches.  On top was a life-sized Santa
Claus, who seemed to be throwing magical handfuls of snow into the air
around him.  The snowflakes glowed and twirled and sparkled, but they never
seemed to reach the floor.  A light scent of natural pine flavored the air.
 People strolled about in small groups, children ran and played, and in one
corner a piano was surrounded by an impromptu choir softly singing
Christmas carols.

Near one wall, most of the bridge crew were clustered, chatting together,
tinkering and teasing with gifts they'd received.  Captain Picard and
Transporter Chief O'Brien were happily occupied, planning final assembly of
a model ship in a bottle which the Captain had mysteriously received.  The
ship was a replica of the first USS Enterprise, a captured British twelve
gun sloop used by the Americans during their war of Independence.

Lieutenant Worf was amused by a hand held holographic projector which
pitted carnivores from various planets against one another in mortal
combat.  A computer program inside the machine extrapolated probable
attacks, defenses, and victories, and gorily displayed the results.  His
roars of delight periodically startled the other celebrants in the room, as
one conflict after another came to its imaginary end.  The projector itself
was a replica of one currently popular with pre-school children in the
Klingon Empire.  Of course, Worf didn't know about that.

Beverly Crusher moved from person to person, showing a video cube to anyone
who would look.  Each time the cube was turned, it displayed a different
scene of her son Wesley as he was growing up.  Most of the scene's made Wes
cringe, and he used it as an excuse to find a quiet corner for himself. 
Wesley was also fascinated by a surprise gift from "Santa": a series of
research papers published by his father during his years at Starfleet
Academy, as well as some recently declassified personal log entries his
father had made aboard the "Stargazer" during the final months of his life.
 Wes sat quietly, reviewing these new treasures, entranced.

Deanna Troi and Will Riker were off to the side sharing a private moment. 
Will was trying his best to talk Deanna out of one of her chocolates; she
was enjoying having his undivided attention.  They played at negotiating
the surrender of a mushroom shaped white chocolate bon-bon.

Captain Picard looked up and announced "Ladies and Gentleman, I believe
we're about to learn who our mystery Santa Claus is."  They all turned to
the direction Picard was looking, and saw Lieutenant Commander Data and
Geordie LaForge approaching. 

"It was really a very interesting experiment, Geordie." Data was saying. 
He wore a Santa Claus cap and a silly looking white beard, which clashed
badly with his trim Starfleet uniform.  "I began by researching your visor
and its operation, then accessed Dr. Crushers medical library for
information on nerve impulses.  From that I determined what signal was
necessary to cause your brain to `see' a rainbow.  From there it was a
simple matter to program the holodeck for a display which would stimulate
your visor to send the proper signal to your brain."  He paused, and said
almost sadly "But Geordie, unfortunately, only your visor will interpret
the display as a rainbow.  For anyone else, the display is not in the range
of visible light."

"So I've got my own private rainbow!  Thanks Data!"  The two of them looked
at the smiling faces of the friends they were approaching.  Geordie
hesitated, then added softly "And Data, ...Merry Christmas!"

 
EPILOG


Personal Log           Lieutenant Commander Data             USS Enterprise
        Stardate 52936.4

"It is now late on Christmas Day.  I have spent the last several days
exploring various aspects of Christmas celebrations, seeking the Christmas
spirit, to see if it is a response I am capable of.  At the suggestion of
Ship's Counselor Troi, I involved myself in as many Christmas related
experiences as possible, to attempt to accumulate pleasant memories. 
Counselor Troi's theory is that Christmas spirit is predicated on a series
of happy memories associated with Christmas.  She suggests that I may not
have had a sufficient number of these for Christmas spirit to propagate
itself spontaneously within me.

Results are inconclusive at this time. I participated in as many classic
Christmas scenarios as time allowed, however, pleasure in such events is a
difficult thing for me to measure, and perhaps that is a piece of this
puzzle yet to be addressed.

I am able to make the following observations:

One:  Christmas spirit is not a simple or automatic phenomena.  I believe
that humans who experience it must participate in its development just as I
have attempted to do.  Those who want to have Christmas spirit will have
it.  I believe that in most cases this is done at a sub-conscious level.

Two:  There is an important subset to the Christmas experience which I
think of as `Giving'.  That subset is `Sharing'.  I believe that without
the `Sharing' of joy in the `Giving' mode, there is no positive experience
to record.  To simply Give is probably not enough to trigger a positive
memory reflex.

Three:  While this conclusion is extremely preliminary, there may be some
validity to Counselor Troi's theory.  It will take some analysis to
confirm, but I believe I experienced a .1% power surge while accepting
thanks from my friends in the ballroom.  Perhaps it is a start.

I find that the lines from a centuries old Christmas carol keep surfacing
in my mind:
		And so I'm offering this simple phrase
		To kids from one to ninety two;
		Although it's been said, many times, many ways,
		MERRY CHRISTMAS to you."




Dedicated to my wife,
December 25th, 1989.


MERRY CHRISTMAS!