A Question Without Logic - Star Trek Fanfiction (The Reality Paradox #11)

 

Aura and I stepped into the restricted turbolift and turned as the doors silently slid shut behind us.

The moment they sealed, the lift began ascending without a command.

It moved noticeably slower than any turbolift I had ever ridden aboard a Federation starship. Under normal circumstances I probably would have appreciated the smooth ride. Unfortunately, standing behind a transparent door while watching yourself climb higher and higher through the Mission Core wasn't exactly my idea of comforting.

Even so, I forced myself to keep my eyes open.

The illuminated shafts stretched endlessly above us, disappearing into darkness beyond the reach of the emergency lighting. Deck after deck drifted past in complete silence. The higher we climbed, the more isolated the Mission Core felt from the rest of the USS Paradox.

It was almost as though we were ascending into the ship's deepest secret.

By the time the ride had begun to feel unreasonably long, the turbolift finally came to a gentle stop.

The doors parted without a sound.

Darkness greeted us once again.

From the lowest level of the Mission Core, it had been obvious that the Temporal Operations Center occupied nearly the entire upper section of the structure. Even so, I hadn't expected it to be this completely sealed off. Not a single ray of ambient light had managed to find its way inside.

Aura and I exchanged a glance before stepping out together.

The instant our boots touched the deck, concealed lighting slowly flickered to life throughout the chamber.

Neither of us moved.

The room was illuminated just enough to see our surroundings, but the lighting had clearly been designed to reveal only what was necessary. Long shadows stretched across the floor while the ceiling remained partially concealed in darkness.

It gave the entire Operations Center an atmosphere of deliberate secrecy.

As though even light required authorization.

The room itself was surprisingly sparse.

Against the left wall rested a single oversized workstation unlike anything I had ever seen in Starfleet. Two command chairs faced an expansive primary display, while six smaller auxiliary monitors were positioned neatly beneath it.

The wall opposite the console looked almost domestic by comparison.

A sleek countertop extended its entire length with cabinets below and open shelving above.

The shelves were filled with books.

Actual printed books.

I slowed my pace.

In the twenty-fourth century, physical books had become uncommon enough to attract attention.

Finding an entire wall dedicated to them aboard a thirty-second-century temporal vessel bordered on unbelievable.

Straight ahead, a lone rectangular frame had been built into the otherwise featureless wall.

At first glance it looked like a doorway.

Except it wasn't.

There was no door.

No visible mechanism.

Not even an opening.

Just a perfectly constructed frame surrounding an ordinary section of bulkhead.

Aura and I exchanged curious glances before making our way toward it together.

Neither of us spoke.

Whatever we had expected to find inside the Temporal Operations Center...

It certainly wasn't this.

The closer we came, the stranger it became.

The surrounding wall was completely smooth except for a single access panel positioned beside the frame.

A chill crawled up my spine.

I found myself wondering if Aura could feel something similar now.

Only hours ago she would have dismissed such a sensation as a physiological response unique to organic life.

Now...

I honestly wasn't sure.

We stopped in front of the frame and examined the inactive panel next to it.

Its display remained completely black.

Recognizing this was well outside my expertise, I stepped aside and silently gestured for Aura to take over.

She nodded and moved in front of the interface.

Her fingers glided effortlessly across the inactive surface.

Nothing.

She blinked twice.

Her hand repeated the sequence with microscopic adjustments.

Still nothing.

A third attempt.

Then a fourth.

The display remained lifeless.

Aura slowly turned toward me.

"Captain... it appears I cannot access whatever system this is."

I glanced between the dark panel and the empty opening.

"'Whatever system,' huh?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"So this wasn't the place to start."

She looked back at me.

For just an instant, a smile appeared on her face as well.

It still caught my attention.

Not because it was unexpected anymore...

But because it was becoming natural.

"That is a logical conclusion," she replied.

Her gaze shifted toward the large workstation behind us.

Unlike every other console we'd encountered aboard the Paradox, this one did not activate upon our arrival.

Interesting.

Aura crossed the room and settled into one of the command chairs.

I remained standing behind her so I could observe what was happening as she worked. 

The moment she sat down, her hands began moving across the interface.

Nothing happened.

She paused.

Studied the controls.

Examined the housing surrounding the console as though searching for a hidden access point.

Then she tried again.

The interface remained completely inert.

Finally, Aura withdrew her hands and folded them neatly in her lap before looking back at me.

"We must be missing something, Captain."

I couldn't help giving an exaggerated nod.

"I'd say that's painfully obvious."

I glanced across the dormant workstation.

"Any idea what?"

Whatever this console controlled...

Someone had gone to extraordinary lengths to ensure it stayed hidden.

Even by Starfleet standards, the amount of security surrounding Temporal Operations was becoming unsettling.

Aura continued examining every visible component of the workstation.

Her eyes flickered repeatedly as internal scans processed one possibility after another.

Then, abruptly, they stopped.

She looked up.

"Captain... the Temporal Operations interface does not permit manual decryption. Physical access alone appears insufficient. The archive must be unlocked through authenticated vocal authorization."

I frowned.

"So are we dealing with voice recognition..."

I rested my hand against the edge of the console.

"...or a spoken authorization code?"

Aura lowered her eyes toward the inactive interface before answering.

"I cannot determine that from the inactive system alone. Given the level of security integrated throughout this vessel, biometric voice authentication would normally represent the more probable design."

Wonderful.

That raised an entirely new problem.

If the system required the voice of a thirty-second-century Temporal Agent...

How exactly were we supposed to find one?

Or perhaps the better question was—

How were we supposed to bring one here?

Considering we still had no explanation for how the Paradox had come into our possession in the first place...

The odds weren't exactly encouraging.

I folded my arms and watched Aura continue examining the inactive console.

At this point I wasn't entirely sure why.

The interface had already refused every attempt she'd made to access it. I doubted another scan would suddenly reveal information it had been hiding moments earlier.

Still...

Aura had earned my trust.

If she believed there was something left to discover, I wasn't about to interrupt her.

The room fell silent.

Only the faint hum of dormant systems echoed through the Operations Center.

Then Aura's eyes stopped moving.

She looked back at me again.

"Captain..."

"I believe we can eliminate biometric authentication as the primary security mechanism."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"The inactive interface continues to expose portions of its operational architecture. My scans indicate the workstation was designed to support multiple concurrent operators."

She briefly looked toward the empty command chair beside her.

"Restricting access to a single authenticated voiceprint would unnecessarily limit that functionality."

Her attention returned to me.

"Based upon the available evidence, I calculate a 70.2 percent probability that the decryption process requires an authorization code or spoken authorization phrase rather than speaker identification."

I glanced toward the second chair.

She was right.

It was obvious now that she'd pointed it out.

The console wasn't designed for a single operator.

It had been built for a team.

Which meant everyone assigned to Temporal Operations would need access.

That made a shared authorization phrase far more logical than one person's biometric voiceprint.

I sighed.

"Well..."

I rested both hands on the edge of the workstation.

"That certainly improves our odds."

Aura watched me patiently.

"Unfortunately, it also raises another question."

I looked around the dimly illuminated Operations Center.

"How do we figure out what the authorization phrase actually is?"

"Possibly."

She answered so quickly that I blinked.

"Security protocols of this complexity are rarely dependent upon memory alone."

She rose smoothly from the command chair and slowly began circling the room while continuing her explanation.

"Authorized personnel would require a method of recovering mission credentials should they become unavailable."

She paused beside the wall of printed books.

"I estimate an 83.6 percent probability that another subsystem aboard the USS Paradox was designed to issue, verify, or recover mission authorizations."

I stared at her for a moment before looking around the room myself.

"So..."

I slowly nodded.

"We're looking for the system that tells people how to unlock the system."

Aura turned toward me.

"That would be the logical starting point."

I smiled.

"Leave it to Starfleet to build a system that needs another system just to explain how to unlock the first one."

Aura considered the observation.

"From a security perspective, the design is logical."

I chuckled.

"From a captain's perspective... it's incredibly annoying."

The corner of Aura's mouth lifted.

Not into a full smile.

Just enough to tell me she'd understood the humor.

It still amazed me.

Only hours ago she would've acknowledged my comment with perfect literalism.

Now...

She was beginning to appreciate it.

I took one final look around the Temporal Operations Center.

The dark walls.

The dormant console.

The impossible collection of printed books.

Whatever answers this room held...

They weren't going to reveal themselves today.

I clapped my hands together.

The sharp report echoed throughout the chamber.

Aura visibly startled.

Her eyes widened before she quickly composed herself.

"Well," I said, unable to suppress a grin, "I don't think we're going to solve this mystery on an empty stomach."

She continued looking at me.

"I believe I promised you we'd visit the Mess Hall."

For a split second she chuckled.

An actual laugh.

Soft.

Natural.

Unplanned.

The sound caught both of us completely off guard.

Aura's eyes widened.

She immediately covered her mouth with one hand.

Then, almost as quickly, she seemed to realize what she'd just done.

Her hand dropped.

Her gaze darted around the room.

It was almost as though she hoped pretending nothing had happened would somehow erase the moment.

I tried very hard not to stare.

Although...

I could've sworn her cheeks had taken on the faintest hint of color.

Interesting.

I stepped beside her and gently rested my arm across her shoulders.

"Don't overthink everything, Aura."

Almost immediately I felt the tension leave her posture.

She looked sideways at me as I led her to the turbolift.

"Explain."

We quickly reached the restricted turbolift and I touched the access panel.

The doors opened silently before us.

We stepped inside together.

As soon as the doors closed, the lift began its slow descent back toward the central Mission Core.

Several seconds passed before the illuminated chamber below gradually came back into view through the transparent doors.

I made the mistake of looking down.

Immediately regretted it.

I looked away just as quickly.

Instead, I turned toward Aura.

"Being Human."

She stared at me.

Expressionless.

Completely blank.

I waited.

Nothing.

Then the turbolift stopped.

The doors slid open.

We stepped back into the Mission Core and began walking toward the primary turbolift that connected the Mission Core to the rest of the ship.

Aura matched my pace.

"So..."

I continued.

"From everything I've seen since we left the outpost... everything you've been experiencing appears to be genuine Human emotion."

"I believe Humans refer to this as stating the obvious, Captain."

I laughed.

"Fair."

"But that's not what I meant."

We arrived at the main turbolift.

Aura pressed the access panel before I could.

The doors opened.

We stepped inside.

"I mean Humans don't consciously decide every emotional response."

The doors closed.

"We simply... react. Our bodies respond before our minds even realize what's happening."

I looked over at Aura.

She was quietly examining the hand she'd used to cover her mouth only moments earlier.

Turning it over.

Studying it.

As though it belonged to someone else.

"Mess Hall," I said.

The turbolift acknowledged the command and started to ascend.

Neither of us spoke again for the remainder of the ride.

Aura remained completely absorbed in observing herself.

One hand.

Then the other.

Every movement seemed new.

Fascinating.

I found myself wondering exactly what she was processing behind those golden eyes.

She possessed Human emotions now.

But she was still...

Aura.

And perhaps that distinction mattered more than either of us realized.

The turbolift eased to a stop.

The doors parted soundlessly, revealing the Mess Hall.

Or rather...

The entire deck was the Mess Hall.

Aura stepped out first. I followed close behind, immediately noticing the absence of a corridor.

For a brief moment, my body instinctively expected one.

Then I caught myself.

I actually laughed under my breath.

Only moments earlier I'd been explaining to Aura that humans often reacted before they consciously thought about it. Now my own brain had proven the point for me.

I knew this wasn't an ordinary starship.

I knew every section of the Paradox had been designed differently from any Federation vessel I'd ever served aboard.

Yet my subconscious had still expected a corridor waiting beyond the turbolift.

Old habits, apparently, were remarkably stubborn.

As I glanced back towards the turbolift, there was an illuminated deck schematic beside it. The layout of the room finally made sense.

Deck Two consisted entirely of the Mess Hall.

No adjoining passageways.

No surrounding compartments.

Just one expansive room occupying the entire neck section of the ship.

Thinking back to the holographic schematics we'd viewed earlier, I remembered there were four radial corridors branching outward from the Bridge into the hexagonal perimeter of the command section.

I'd have to study them more carefully later. They could be the only corridors on the ship.

This ship had clearly been designed around efficiency rather than convention.

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt Aura gently take my hand.

"Captain."

I looked over.

"There are operational replicators on the north wall."

I followed her gaze.

The room was already fully illuminated when we'd arrived, making them difficult to miss.

Unlike the abandoned outpost, everything aboard the Paradox looked pristine.

The polished deck plating reflected the soft overhead lighting.

The bulkheads were flawless.

Not even a hint of dust.

If someone had told me the crew had stepped away only moments ago...

I might have believed them.

Aura led me across the room toward the replicators.

We passed only a handful of communal tables before reaching the far wall.

There were just two replicators.

Only two.

I paused.

I'd already accepted that the Paradox could operate almost entirely autonomously, but seeing only two replicators suddenly put the ship's intended crew size into perspective.

How many Temporal Agents had this vessel actually been designed to carry?

Perhaps...

Not many at all.

My thoughts drifted once again.

A gentle tug on my hand brought me back.

"Captain."

I looked at Aura.

"That is the second occasion within the last two minutes and thirty-four seconds that you have become distracted."

She tilted her head.

"Repeated lapses in concentration can be indicative of fatigue or inadequate nutrition."

A brief pause.

"You should eat something."

I smiled.

There she was.

Still Aura.

Just...

Warmer.

I turned and gently took her hand in both of mine.

"You're probably right."

Then I looked back at her.

"But what about you?"

She blinked.

"I do not require the same nutritional substances as a Human."

"Are you sure?"

She looked mildly confused.

"My internal systems have remained fully operational."

"What about your stomach?"

"My..."

She looked down and rested a hand against her abdomen.

"...stomach?"

"Has it been feeling strange?"

She remained perfectly still.

Several seconds passed.

Finally she looked back up.

"It is... vibrating."

Her expression remained completely serious.

"I will perform a diagnostic when we return to the Bridge."

I couldn't help laughing.

"You don't need diagnostics."

"You do not believe my sensors are accurate?"

"I believe them completely."

I smiled.

"I just think they're telling you something different than you expect."

She frowned.

"I do not understand."

"If you've developed every other Human emotion and sensation..."

I gestured toward the replicator.

"...then it stands to reason you've developed hunger, too."

She looked down at her stomach again.

Then back at me.

"That would be... logically consistent."

"Exactly."

I stepped up to the replicator.

"Computer."

The familiar acknowledgment tone sounded.

"Grilled chicken sandwich on a whole wheat bun. Vegan mayonnaise. Vegan cheddar-jack cheese. Pickles."

A soft shimmer filled the replication chamber.

Molecules assembled almost instantly.

Seconds later, a steaming sandwich rested neatly on a ceramic plate.

I lifted it from the alcove.

The aroma immediately reached me.

Fresh grilled chicken.

Warm bread.

Melted cheese.

It smelled incredible.

I smiled to myself.

Whatever else the Paradox was hiding...

Its replicators still knew what they were doing.

I turned back toward Aura.

She hadn't moved.

Instead, she was staring intently at the replicator as though she'd just witnessed magic.

Her eyes slowly drifted toward me.

"Captain..."

"I do not know what to eat."

I stepped beside her and raised my plate.

At first she leaned backward, giving me a thoroughly confused expression.

Then...

Curiosity won.

She leaned forward.

Carefully.

She inhaled.

Her eyes widened.

"This..."

She inhaled again.

"...must be smell."

I nodded.

"It is."

Another breath.

"If my conclusion is correct..."

She looked genuinely fascinated.

"...that smells... delectable."

I smiled.

"You are correct, Aura."

I turned back toward the replicator.

"Computer."

A confirmation tone sounded again.

"Replicate previous order."

The replicator hummed once more.

Within seconds, an identical sandwich appeared.

Aura reached forward and accepted the plate with unmistakable excitement.

Not exaggerated.

Not artificial.

Simply...

Excitement.

I couldn't help smiling.

"Come on."

I motioned toward one of the nearby tables.

She followed without hesitation.

We settled into seats across from one another.

For a few moments, neither of us spoke.

The quiet gave my thoughts far too much room to wander.

Sitting across from Aura felt strangely familiar.

Almost painfully so.

My mind drifted back to EOS Prospera.

Back when I had deliberately forced myself to spend time with her after becoming separated from the rest of the crew.

Back when our unexplained loss of time had first begun.

I grimaced.

Not because of Aura.

Because every memory from that station seemed connected to another temporal mystery.

The more anomalies we uncovered...

The less any of it made sense.

I took a bite of my sandwich.

Across the table, Aura watched me with complete concentration.

She waited until I finished chewing before lifting her own sandwich and carefully copying every movement I'd just made.

She took a bite.

Chewed.

Paused.

Continued chewing.

Then...

She simply kept chewing.

For several more seconds.

It suddenly occurred to me...

She had never swallowed anything before.

"Aura."

She looked up immediately.

"When you're finished chewing..."

I paused, realizing I'd never actually had to explain this to anyone before.

"...you have to swallow."

She continued staring at me.

I frowned.

How exactly did one explain swallowing?

Fortunately...

She didn't need much explanation.

Within seconds she tilted her head slightly, processed the instruction, and swallowed.

Her eyes widened.

Interesting.

Apparently her internal systems had solved the rest.

One advantage of being an android.

After another thoughtful bite, she smiled.

A genuine smile.

Not practiced.

Not calculated.

Simply happy.

"You were correct, Captain."

"I usually enjoy hearing that."

"My stomach has stopped vibrating."

I laughed.

"I'm glad to hear it."

She immediately took another bite.

This time she swallowed naturally.

No hesitation.

No analysis.

Already learning.

Watching Aura experience ordinary things for the first time was unexpectedly... enjoyable.

Only a day ago I would have described her as efficient.

Logical.

Reliable.

Now...

She felt alive.

I continued eating while occasionally glancing across the table.

Aura seemed completely absorbed in the experience.

Every new sensation became another piece of information to explore.

She chewed more slowly.

Experimented with the different textures.

Paused briefly before taking another bite.

Even remembered to wipe her mouth after finishing.

I smiled to myself.

Apparently her internal research had expanded well beyond simply learning how to swallow.

Several moments later, Aura stopped eating altogether.

She carefully set her sandwich on the plate.

Then folded her hands together.

Something about her expression changed.

The curiosity was still there.

But now...

There was uncertainty.

She tilted her head slightly.

"Captain..."

I looked up from my sandwich.

My mouth was still full, so I simply gestured for her to continue.

She remained silent for several seconds.

Longer than usual.

"May I ask you something?"

I swallowed quickly.

"Of course."

Aura lowered her eyes to her hands before speaking again.

"When I was activated..."

She paused.

"...I was an android."

I nodded in agreement.

"I accepted that classification because it was objectively accurate."

Another silence settled between us.

"But I now experience emotions."

She slowly turned one hand over in front of herself, studying it as though seeing it for the first time.

"I understand those emotions are Human in origin."

She looked back up and met my eyes.

"If I am still an android..."

A knot tightened in my stomach.

Something told me I wasn't going to like where this conversation was heading.

"...but I now possess something fundamentally Human..."

For the second time since we'd left the outpost...

Aura's voice carried unmistakable uncertainty.

Not confusion born of incomplete information.

Not failed logic.

Something deeper.

She searched my face.

"...what am I?"

Silence settled over the Mess Hall.

For the second time since Aura was given emotions...

She wasn't asking me to solve a technical problem.

She wasn't asking about temporal mechanics.

She wasn't asking about the Paradox.

She was asking who she was.

And for the second time...

I still wasn't sure there was a right answer.