Another Piece of the Action by John Erik Ege - HTML preview

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“Well, you didn’t invite me in. You didn’t offer me a seat. You didn’t offer me a drink. You are all

 

but ignoring me,” Trini complained.

 

“Okay, back the starship up, I’m lost. I recall inviting you in,” and then started quoting himself in a

 

mocking voice, “Come in. Enter? Opening the door, oh, come in.”

 

“I’ve seen you give complete strangers more courtesy than you are showing me,” Trini said. Garcia walked over to the replicator, placed the weights inside it, and recycled them. Turning his

 

attention back to Trini, he said, “You believe I was being discourteous or inattentive.”

 

“Both, neither, I don’t know,” Trini said.

 

“Well, I don’t know either. You want something to drink?” Garcia asked.

 

“No,” Trini said.

 

Garcia sighed. “I think there is a misunderstanding here somewhere, perhaps on misplaced

 

expectations? My working assumption is that we are friends and that you are always welcome here, you can

 

make yourself comfortable, if you want something to eat or drink, you know how to get it, and if there is

 

something more you want, you can always ask me.”

 

“I want you, Tammas,” Trini said.

 

“Computer, freeze video,” Garcia said, divesting himself of all distractions save Trini. He noticed that

 

she was suddenly very aware of his change in intensity and focus on her. To hide the fact that her hands were

 

trembling, she held on to the sides of his desk. He gently took her right hand in his. “I’m not going to cash in

 

on that bet.”

 

“Why?” Trini asked. “Is there something wrong with me?”

 

“Oh, Trini, there is nothing wrong with you,” Garcia said.

 

“Then why?” Trini asked.

 

“I am unable to make a commitment to you,” Garcia said.

 

“Whoa, I’m not asking you to marry me,” Trini said, hugging him. “I thought I’d lost you when I

 

heard the Chance had been destroyed. I don’t want to go through the rest of my life with you not knowing just

 

how much I love you.”

 

“I don’t know what to say,” Garcia said.

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Trini said. “Just love me.”

 

“No,” Garcia said.

 

“Why?” Trini asked. When he said nothing, she continued. “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll

 

leave.” Still nothing. “Even if you don’t love me to the same degree it doesn’t mean this won’t work out or

 

that we can’t find a way to be happy when we’re together. It’s not like there’s a holodeck, and it is going to be

 

a long trek, and…”

 

“The holodeck is fantasy,” Garcia said. “This is real life and it’s messy and it hurts and there are no

 

happy, magical endings. Trini, we are friends!”

 

“I resent that excuse,” Trini snapped, pushing him away. “Who else would you sleep with? Your

 

enemy? You didn’t hesitate to start sleeping with Rivan.”

 

“A different set of social structure defines my relationship with her,” Garcia said.

 

“What social structure? It’s not like there’s a contract between the two of you,” Trini said. “And I’m

 

not asking you for a contract. It’s just healthy entertainment between two consenting adults, while we’re

 

trapped together on a ship.”

 

Garcia led her to the door. “I’m flattered, and I’m very attracted to you, on more than one level, but I

 

choose not to accept this offer at this time.”

 

Trini seemed confused. He kissed her forehead, almost too paternally for her. “You best go,” he said.

 

“I have a lot of work to do to prepare the Away Team for what to expect.”

 

Trini departed without further word and, as she departed, two of his side kicks, Duana and Ilona,

 

entered. Garcia ignored the internal dialogue of his companions. They both were acting shocked by Garcia

 

refusing Trini’s offer of Romance, but each for different reasons. Duana had been cheering for him. Ilona had

 

been assigning disparaging labels on Trini. He didn’t feel the need to explain it to them, but between them,

 

their language, and the memory of Trini touching him just a few moments ealier had caused him to reach

 

sufficient frustration that he was tempted to call his HROV-Deanna down from her corner to relieve some

 

tension. This triggered a memory of something the real Deana Troi had said. Perhaps his fantasy life on the holodeck was holding him back from making a solid connection with a live female. He decided not to think of

 

it and forged on with his work.

 

Garcia sat in his chair, watching multiple channels of media, with subtitles, while simultaneously

 

listening to the radio. He tuned into a music station for a change and discovered a big band piece that was

 

vaguely reminiscent of Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood.” Between songs were commercials, which often

 

prompted him to tune in another music channel. He absolutely loathed the commercials. He especially hated

 

the fact that some of them had such potent jingles that they got stuck in his head for hours. It was often so

 

difficult to shake them that he would have to take a break from work to play a guitar and try and replace the

 

commercial’s jingle with another song. Duana and Ilona made a game of retuning him to the jingle the

 

moment he thought he had freed himself. They were quite amused with the new game. He would have killed

 

them if it hadn’t meant suicide.

 

After he had managed to escape the latest jingle, he returned to the Iotian radio station that he had been

 

listening to, telling the computer to skip through advertisements, and jump music stations periodically. He

 

tried playing along with the song on the radio using his guitar when Duana got him back on a jingle, which

 

strangely fit the composition he was listening to, even though some of the chords on his guitar clashed. The door chimed.

 

“Come,” he invited, annoyance shining through the invitation.

 

No one entered but the chime rang again. Welcoming the break from his personal torture, he cradled

 

his guitar and answered the door. Tatiana was there, her fists clenched as if she were ready to fight. He

 

motioned her in.

 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Garcia asked, trying to be a little more thoughtful after being so

 

readily chastised by his other room-mate.

 

She waited to speak until the door closed. “What did you do to Trini?” Tatiana asked. “I didn’t do anything to Trini,” Tam said.

 

“Then why is she in her room crying her eyes out?” Tatiana asked.

 

“Oh,” Tam said, and went and sat down on the couch. Duana and Ilona made a quick exit, beaming

 

out, but not before kissing him on the cheek. “Good luck,” Duana whispered.

 

“Oh?” Tatiana said, standing akimbo. “That’s it? You didn’t follow through on that bet, did you?” “Not that it’s any business of yours,” Tam said.

 

“It is my business,” Tatiana said. “She’s my friend, and she’s been my friend a lot longer than you and

 

I have been friends, and if you hurt her, I will personally kick your butt.”

 

“You just need to relax,” Tam said. On one level he was angered by her tactics, and yet on another

 

level, more academic in nature, he was curious about the violent nature of her proposed solution to her

 

perceived problem. Very Iotian of her. Or was it a Russian thing? What was the Russian’s perspective on

 

fighting? Would they still be friends if they fought? Was that dependant on who won the fight? And what

 

was she really mad at? “I did not sleep with her and I suspect the reason’s she’s crying is because I turned her

 

advances down. And another thing you should know is that it wasn’t my bet. She made it up on the spot.” “You didn’t sleep with her?” Tatiana asked, taken aback.

 

“No, I didn’t,” Tam said.

 

Tatiana was silent for a moment. “Why the hell not?” Tatiana asked, her energy level going up a notch.

 

“You’ve slept with every two bit whore on the holodeck, you can’t spend one hour with Trini?” Tam did a double take. “Did you hear what you just asked?”

 

“I know what I’m asking,” Tatiana snapped.

 

“Before you were angry because you thought I had slept with her and now you’re angry because I

 

didn’t,” Tam pointed out. He walked over to the replicator, ordered a jar of peanut butter and one spoon. The

 

jar appeared, no lid, spoon inserted into the peanut butter, just the way he pre-programmed it. “You are

 

insane,” he told her, and then ate a spoonful of peanut butter.

 

“I’m insane? I’m not the one going around talking to myself,” Tatiana said.

 

Tammas swallowed, pointing the spoon at her like a dangerous weapon. “Look, there is nothing

 

wrong with Trini. I love her, I think she’s great, but I’m not going to be romantically involved with her,” Tam said. “She’s my friend, but, more than that, her need for intimacy is more than I can give her. If it had just

 

been about sex, well, I might have entertained the thought. But it’s not.”

 

Tatiana frowned, most of her anger spent. She sighed. “I’m sorry I came in here so strong. I just

 

wanted to make this right,” Tatiana said. “You did the right thing.”

 

“Well, as long as I have your approval, I guess things are alright,” Tam said, taking another spoonful

 

of comfort food.

 

“You didn’t exercise any restraint when it came to sleeping with Rivan, so Trini probably sees this the

 

way I do,” Tatiana said.

 

“I know how you see it. Because you believe I took advantage of Rivan you think that I would be

 

willing to take advantage of Trini because she threw herself at me,” Tam said.

 

“Basically, yes,” Tatiana said. “You did take advantage of Rivan.”

 

“Rivan doesn’t see it that way,” Tam said. “In fact, she would be more inclined to think that she took

 

advantage of my position because she believes that it is harder for me to adopt her free love approach to

 

relationships.”

 

“Did you tell her that’s the only kind of love you’re into?” Tatiana said.

 

“Once again, you’re out of line,” Tam said.

 

“Please, that’s the only reason you spend so much time on the holodeck. You’re a control freak. You

 

wouldn’t know what to do if you were in a relationship with a social equal, and that’s the only reason you

 

turned Trini down,” Tatiana said. “You sleep with Rivan because you have power over her. You don’t have to

 

make a commitment.”

 

“Are you through?” Tammas asked, giving pause just long enough for her to add something if she

 

wanted. He had had enough comfort food, so he stuck the spoon back in the peanut butter, put the jar back in

 

the replicator, and recycled it.

 

“No, I’m not through,” Tatiana said, stepping closer. “While we’re at it, I think it’s reprehensible that

 

you hit on Lenar’s girl friend.”

 

“I didn’t hit on her,” Tam said.

 

“Whether you came on to her or she came on to you is irrelevant. You accepted her proposition, right

 

there in front of Lenar,” Tatiana said. “And I happen to know you followed through on it. How can you treat

 

your friends like that?”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tam said. “But even if it is as you imagine, it’s none of

 

your business.”

 

“So it doesn’t bother you at all that Trini is upset, and Lenar will probably never speak to you again?”

 

Tatiana asked.

 

“What bothers me is that you have such a low opinion of me. You really think I would purposely hurt

 

my friends?” Tam asked. “I don’t owe you an explanation, but for your information, Nancy has a fourteen

 

year old daughter who is bored out of her mind on this little trek of ours, and who also, strangely enough,

 

happens to be a fan of mine. I shared a meal with them to surprise Niki before she learned I was on board.

 

Further, I’m going to be tutoring her in music and have started putting a band together so that she can get

 

some experience performing live. I have no agenda here other than light socializing. I’m not out to steal

 

Lenar’s girl friend and I don’t expect any rewards for entertaining Niki. Now, if you are quite finished, I

 

would like to be alone.”

 

Tatiana wanted to apologize once again, but couldn’t find the words. Instead, she moved in and kissed

 

him. Garcia looked at her, confused. Tatiana started to say something, paused, and then shook her head. “I

 

think I get so angry with you because I love you, and I’m jealous, and…” Tatiana started to cry. “Are you and Trini both menstruating at the same time?” Tam asked.

 

Tatiana started to pull away but then decided to just slap him. Garcia blocked, grabbing her wrist, and

 

surprisingly she kissed him again.

 

“Sometimes I think you know absolutely nothing about women,” Tatiana said. She wiped a tear from

 

her face. “Maybe you should program your holodeck for a little more accuracy. Even if I were menstrating, it

 

is socially inexcusable to blame a woman’s emotions on her cycle. I’m just feeling all of these feelings and I

 

am doing something very non Russian.” She wiped her eyes on a sleeve.

 

“You mean crying is socially unacceptable for Russian women?” Garcia asked.

 

Tatiana pulled away, turning to leave. Tam touched her arm and she paused. He brought his hands up

 

to her head and gently turned her face back towards his. He kissed her gently, and when she looked down, he

 

tilted her face up towards him. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll keep it our secret.”

 

“That I cried, or that you hate me,” Tatiana asked.

 

Garcia answered her with another kiss and she accepted it with a passion, pulling him in closer to her.

 

She grabbed two fists full of his uniform and dragged him to the floor. He was about to take it to the next

 

level when the music in the back ground distracted him. He stopped participating.

 

“What?” Tatiana asked, trying to pull his uniform top off.

 

“Do you recognize that song?” he asked her, helping her to remove his shirt.

 

“I only hear one song,” she said, rolling him so that she was now on top.

 

Tam stopped her from kissing him. “No,” he said.

 

“If we stop now, I might come to my senses and not do this,” Tatiana said, tugging her shirt out of her

 

pants.

 

Tammas stopped her, trying to sit up. “I know this song. It’s an Indian song,” Tam said. “So,” Tatiana said, still trying to engage him in a kiss. “It sounds like something Trini listens to,”

 

Tatiana observed.

 

“That’s it!” Garcia took her by the shoulders and held her back. “Let me up,” he insisted. She got off

 

of him and collapsed to the floor, unable to believe she was being turned down because of a song. “It’s from

 

the Indian cult classic Kum Kisse Kum Naheen!” he told her.

 

She decided he was on a totally different planet than she was. “So, it’s not like you haven’t heard it

 

before. Trini listens to it all the time,” Tatiana said, sulking, giving up on any further affection. “But this is one of the Iotian music channels,” Garcia explained, going to his desk. “How would they get access to this?” Tatiana asked, not suppressing the frustration in her voice.

 

Though she had a bra on, she felt completely naked, and strangely, as if she were completely alone. “Good question,” Garcia said.

 

“It would have never occurred to me that there were Indians on this planet,” Tatiana said. “That’s because people from Earth no longer think in terms of racial division,” Garcia explained. “The

 

Iotians have the full spectrum of human beings on their planet, and thanks to the materials left behind by the

 

Horizon, they have emulated some of the racial disharmony from Earth’s past. I’ve documented several

 

examples of this from watching their television broadcast. Since the Horizon, women and people of non white

 

descent have been treated less than equal. It seems to have improved since Kirk has been there, but to what

 

degree I won’t know until I can actually get down there and measure social integration.”

 

“Okay, but even if they have all the races that Earth has, that still wouldn’t explain the Indian music,”

 

Tatiana said.

 

“I know. That’s what puzzles me,” Garcia agreed, he began to pace. “I just went over the Horizon’s

 

crew and there were no Indians on board. Computer, was anyone on the Horizon a fan of Indian music?” The response was negative. Tatiana sat up and hugged her knees, watching Garcia as he tried to figure

 

it out.

 

“Was there anyone on the crew that spoke Hindi? No? How about someone who enjoyed Indian

 

movies or Bollywood?” Garcia asked, and again was disappointed to find the answer was no. He kicked his

 

shirt up into the air, caught it, folded it, and tossed it to the replicator. “Computer, compare and contrast the

 

Iotian media files with that of Earth and list any similarities.”

 

A list of known songs began to scroll and grow. Neither Garcia nor Tatiana had to study the list too

 

hard to find a song they both were familiar with. One of the songs was “Over the Rainbow.” “Play Over the Rainbow,” Garcia said. The voice of Judy Garland sang out over his room’s speakers.

 

He looked to Tatiana who was leaning against his desk, arms folded across her chest. “It could be a

 

coincidence. This song was, hell, still is, the most popular Earth song ever recorded. There are more versions

 

of this song than any other song ever written, and it has been performed by more artist than any other song.

 

To this day, it is the most frequently down loaded song from Earth.”

 

“Maybe, but how do you explain all of those other songs on that list?” Tatiana asked. Garcia scanned the list a second time. He recognized a Johnny Cash song, “A Boy Named Sue,” A

 

Willie Nelson Song, “Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground,” and “It’s a Blue World,” by Mel Torme. There

 

was too much going on here for it to be a fluke. “Scan the visual records for a Willie Nelson.” Willie Nelson appeared on the screen, singing “Whisky River Take My Mind.”

 

“What does it mean?” Tatiana asked.

 

“It means…” Garcia paused. His left hand came up and the thumb and index finger met. He shook

 

that hand at the monitor. “I don’t know. Computer, scan the visual records for content that may be similar to

 

programs from twentieth century Earth, or programs that mention Earth, or any city or region on Earth. And

 

display multiple images simultaneously. Add close captioning for each window.”

 

It started with one, then divided into two, and then three and in this manner TV images appeared until

 

there were thirty two programs running simultaneously and Garcia had to put a halt to its division. As it was,

 

it was now taxing even his ability to keep up. “Do you recognize any of this?”

 

Tatiana shook her head. “Wait, that looks like Dallas, Texas.”

 

“Computer, can you identify this program?” Garcia asked.

 

“Dallas,” the computer said, providing actual running time for the original broadcast dates, while

 

listing the cast with publicity photo’s.

 

Tatiana stood and stepped closer to the viewer and pointed to one of the windows. “That’s a coke