Everything Is Magic! II

Posted on 08 Mar 2013 @ 4:15am by Lieutenant Lilou Zaren & Chief Warrant Officer 2 Sergei Petrov

4,972 words; about a 25 minute read

Mission: Episode 03 - Frontier
Location: USS Galileo: Multi-purpose Laboratory
Timeline: MD04: 2300

Previously on Everything Is Magic! part one...

She pointed her finger at Petrov. "No," she said again, and then walked over toward the Trill and Vulcan. "What is going on in here?" Maenad demanded, her hands on her hips. Petrov still beside her and a step back, but his smile had faded into a curious sort of graveness.

And now, the conclusion...

[ON]

Why was it that whenever Liyar worked in his lab, his nice, perfectly ordinary lab, many people came in all at once and disrupted his quiescent, perfectly logical computing? The Vulcan in question gave them all an Eyebrow and spread his hands over the fereikek reh, turning it from a recording device into its intended purpose, which was instrumental. Concentrating on the holographic representations of note harmonics in front of him, he played out a simplistic, but clearly non-Vulcan song. "It does not sound flat," he said, as though that explained everything. "She has not told me why she has done this," he added on the final note, hand paused in the air before he switched the device to another screen and the sounds faded.

"Mister Liyar," Maenad practically heaved a sigh as she brought two fingers up to her temple, "You are going to have to be a lot clearer than that."

Lilou looked between the others quickly; even Petrov had lost his grin. That was not a good sign. No, no, no. It took all her courage to clear her throat and when she spoke, the words were barely above a whisper. "I wanted to help," she repeated, then swallowed hard. "You gave me something I hadn't had in years. I wanted... to give back." Stupidly, she thought to herself. It had been idiotic. She'd been driven by the compulsion. Fair was fair and she didn't take free rides, not from anyone. She had enough weaknesses; she didn't need to add being pitied to her list. There were things she could do. Maybe not many, but there were and she had to use those to stay afloat. There was nothing in her power she could do to exactly repay Liyar for the hours of peace he'd given her the night before. Even if it was accidental. Even if it would never happen again. She'd felt like herself again for four hours. She'd had to do something. How she'd managed to annoy Lieutenant Panne, she wasn't sure. Maybe she'd heard. Oh, spirits, maybe she'd heard that Lilou had hacked the system for the lab data. Stone. Saalm. Death. She ducked her head, shame-faced.

Liyar looked as though he were physically struggling to answer Maenad's question, halfway between the slight tension in his jaw and an odd half-aborted gesture. He shook his head, uncertain. As usual. "You recall the transceiver I had given you," he tried again. Words were elusive. Everything was brighter, Real, but to the outside world he was muted as he climbed through his own mind and found himself cycling through words, phrases, memories, sensations. Analyses, calculations. There were so many and it needed to be accurate. There were more people. Only there are-- No, not now. So many people. Many emotions. All over the place. He looked down at his wrists, which were bare of the usual monitors. The sudden lack of medication over the last week and the absence of his usual restraints had obviously left him a little thousand-yard. He'd been alone only moments before. For the first time in months, he realized he might have preferred to remain that way. The thought was fleeting. No. People were always better. People with their weird-feelings and yelling-voices. Even that. He looked between Lilou and Maenad and Other Guy, blinking like an owl caught out. "For you to be able to hear the psionic element of music," he elaborated. He looked back at Lilou, as if her words just entered into his skull. He did not understand. At least, not really. He remembered. She was distressed. Distress and distress and then more distress. Lots of it, until he shut it down. Had to. Sanity was preferable. "The reverse was not possible for me. Unless I am able to physically connect to a person who is playing music such as a Terran, I cannot perceive it properly. This is the reverse of what I had done." Was that clearer? Clarity, wouldn't that be nice. Music was much simpler. This music was. It was less than Experience, but it was within his grasp. Numbers and rotations and bars and chords and frequencies. He tapped his fingers in the air against the resonator idly, producing random snatches of music as if he were a child with a new toy. "There will be no death, Ensign Peers. It is nice."

Still, Maenad had no idea what was going on, and she was starting to get visibly frustrated. But when she became frustrated, she slowed down rather than sped up. She stood still, clenched her jaw, leveled her eyebrows. He was talking about the psionic transceiver he'd given her, but he was talking about reversing it now as well - which made no sense. Vulcans could hear just as well as anybody else. But she was asking more about the numbers all over the place, literally, than she was about what songs they were listening to. She felt like a mother who'd walked in on her son and disapproved girlfriend, despite the fact that she really liked Ensign Peers. Liyar was being stoic and cool while she seemed nervous and a little frightened. "Mister Liyar," she said steadily, "I'm talking about all of this," she held her hands up, one of them still clutching a PADD.

"It's... a... personal access display device?" she offered, hopefully. The assertion that there would be no death was a small relief, but she still needed to figure out what was annoying the Chief.

"The economic and trade ramifications of potential resource acquisition of the Rojar system," Liyar parroted, looking around the room and withdrawing the back-portion of the fereikek reh. The numbers closed in on them fast and left the walls, leaping through the room in three dimensional space before returning to their snug home in the white sphere.

"Oh," Lilou whispered, the numbers finally making sense in her head. "You were calculating the present value of a growing annuity with continuous compounding." She shook her head. It was obvious now she understood the context. She'd learned similar computations to deal with free radical ionization when reversing delta regions, when the vortex appeared to be inside the inverted matter stream.

Maenad looked at Peers sarcastically when she had said that she was holding a PADD. Then a frown took over while Liyar started explaining the numbers. Since when had the science lab become Liyar's personal calculator, anyway?

"Excellent work, sir," Petrov said to the Vulcan. "Once finished, these calculations will be invaluable to the Federation."

"You're dismissed, Mister Petrov," Maenad said looking over her shoulder. She wasn't rude, but tired sounding.

"You will consider my application to convert the arboretum then?" he asked.

"I said you're dismissed," she said again. Petrov smiled at Liyar and Peers before bowing his head and left. Maenad looked forward at the two in front of her. The numbers made little sense to her. She didn't know how reliable they were if they hadn't yet explored the system, so why Liyar was putting so much work into them was beyond her. It was all probability, estimation, algebra. She shook her head. "Well, if I am disturbing you then I suppose I shall leave."

"No - no," Liyar said, and all at once they showed up again, everywhere, swirling about. He slowed them down. "Less estimation. Every single element to the universe has a measurable property, a way of behaving, this is true of all things. Economies are living organisms, they reflect a society. To introduce an economic algorithm one projects -" He devolved into some further complicated rambling, and then turned around very abruptly and interrupted himself. "You may stay. If that is what you wish. It would be -" and he seemed to be side tracked by another flowing array of numbers. "They project the accountability of the market they are researching. For us, it is the Federation in comparison to other Alpha quadrant powers, we measure many separate standards to combine them and begin to form a behavioral pathway analysis - it builds, it reflects a movement. Then you introduce commodity, supply, demand... space, not mapped, not complete, I will complete them when we get to the system," Liyar finished, and then said to his feet, "You are not a disturbance. I believe your friend has forgotten his data." Liyar pointed at a hastily abandoned PADD on the table.

Maenad cursed under her breath, following the direction of Liyar's finger. So Petrov had left his damned PADD, only she knew that he hadn't forgotten it at all. It was deliberate; she was growing tired of him. Liyar's economic projections and his religious belief that economics tied the universe together, and that societies were nothing without them, and how great money was, and how fascinating was the idea of value, it all bothered her very much. She had argued with him when they had first met about economics and their relevance, and she'd avoided it ever since. "I will never understand your fascination for such an archaic form of societal organisation, Mister Liyar," she breathed.

"It's not-" Lilou started, then wisely shut her mouth.

Liyar just stood in place, and gave a small shake of his head. "I am aware that you do not comprehend my job," Liyar placed a subtle emphasis on the word, resting a hand on his hip. He seemed to come into more focus, like a television that flickered to total clarity after a long fuzzy drone. "The focus of this mission is to gather resources and scout potential planets for colonization. These are multifaceted analyses. One of which is economic."

The engineer's eyes darted between them. "Should I..." she pointed towards the door.

"Should you what, ensign?" Maenad asked, speaking to Peers for the first time since she'd arrived. "Mister Liyar is under the impression that I do not comprehend his job," she said to her quietly, then turned back to Liyar. "Well, it may surprise you to know, Mister Liyar, that I know perfectly well what your position is and what exactly you're supposed to do. I also know that economic projections all over the lab are not in your job description." She leaned against a table, setting her PADD down and held the edge with her hands. "The Federation is a post-scarce society, as I have explained to you once before, and which I am disappointed to see you have disregarded. While some might find all of..." she raised her eyes to the numbers everywhere, "this" she said with disdain, "fascinating, it is unnecessary. The Federation has a surplus of worlds for its people and a surplus of, and access to, enough resources that it might as well be infinite. The Rojar system, while fascinating on scientific merits, has no relevance to be considered economically."

"Why do you assume that this system is a representation of Federation society?" Liyar threw the question back at her, arching an eyebrow across the room. "The resources here will require to be mined, or they will belong to someone else. In which case we will require to negotiate. I do not suppose you have a spare desk pen lying around that you are willing to part with. Or perhaps the worthless Steinway." One eyebrow morphed into two. "Beyond this, if we do colonize this system, we will require to relegate resources to the task. A planet does not grow on its own. It must be made self-sustaining. You cannot add the resources of one party to the resources of another without a margin of loss. My job is a respective analysis of all of these components. Which it is clear you do not understand. You are too busy focusing on tangible manifestations of currency to comprehend the ramifications involved in harvesting a star system for one's own profitable use." He continued meandering along the numbers in front of him while he spoke in a quiet, contemplative, one might even consider lazy tone.

Lilou looked between them and, taking her life in her hands, cleared her throat. "It's not really a hazard, is it? Whether you agree with the research or not, Lieutenant," she said quietly. "No one else is using the lab, so... what's the harm in putting the space to good use for research of one kind or another? That's why we're all here... isn't it?" She peeked up at Maenad nervously. "Plus... I mean, the math is so pretty..." she pointed at the numbers scaling the wall. "Have you looked? At just that? The implications of compound equations like that reach farther than economics..."

Maenad breathed out of her nose, tossing her head to one side. She looked at Peers, said nothing, and then looked back at Liyar. She didn't mean to dismiss her, but she couldn't confess that the numbers made little to no sense to her. "The piano is worthless," she admitted. "It has no value because we could reproduce it exactly by matter assemblage. Its only value is emotional. The system itself, and all its financial value, is completely worthless because of the abundance of resources that we have at our disposal. There are tens of millions of planets within our borders, and hundreds of millions, even trillions of worlds in our galaxy. Even if, as you say, to colonise the system would run at a loss, I ask a loss compared to what and on what scale?" She crossed her arms. "When there are no gains to be had because we have free access to whatever we want and whenever we need it, or if the loss is so minute when compared to what we have, then there can be no real loss." Maenad sighed.

"Therefore, you automatically concede that as the Federation is a post-scarce society with nothing of any value, we do not have any capacity to negotiate with others outside our realm," Liyar tossed back casually. He had read her mind, felt her uncertainty, but didn't mention it. "If you suggest there is no gain to be had, then you must admit there is no purpose to visiting this star system."

"That's not-" Lilou bit her lip. They were mostly ignoring her, but aside from some looks nothing had been thrown at her so far. "I'm sorry, sirs, but... this is a new solar system. I'm no scientist, I know I just fix the ship, but... I mean, this is... it's new. Isn't that enough? Just that? Just this one moment of finding something that hasn't been touched by our hands?"

"Exactly," Maenad smiled brighly at Peers, who seemed to understand perfectly what she was saying. An excellently nihilistic conclusion. She wanted to shake her. She looked back to Liyar, who seemed to have thought he found her in a contradiction when in fact he said precisely her point. "It is unnecessary for us to trade with others. I do not say that we shouldn't; I am saying it is unnecessary. As for the purpose of going to the Rojar system, the only gain to be had is scientific and emotional. It satisfies our desire to explore." She tapped her temple with a single finger. "It satisfies us."

Liyar blinked at her. "I should think that is obvious," he said, confused as to why she was stating his own points as a way of disagreeing with him.

"That's... not what I said exactly," Lilou mumbled, tugging her ear.

"You are indicating the inherent value of the system itself as something separate from its perceived use," Liyar nodded, speaking offhand.

"Yes! Which makes both of you right!" Lilou's voice rose to a decadently normal level in her excitement.

Thankfully, Peers spoke up before Maenad could get a word in. She smiled, knowing that she had won regardless of what either of them truly thought. "I'm hungry," she thought aloud.

Lilou exhaled a shaky breath. I could use a drink. Or five.

Liyar gestured between the two of them, satisfied with his conclusions and his perceptions. Confident that he had made his points clear, he gave them a miniature shrug and then pointed toward the back wall. "There is a replicator," he answered them, spoken and non. "And the remaining quantity of sheekuya na left aboard is below the desk. Consider it an exchange," he nodded at Lilou, indicating the component she'd given. If he weren't a Vulcan, he might've been smug.

Lilou had exactly no idea what 'shekuya na' was, but she was willing to believe that Liyar would not lead her astray. She had actually managed to deal with two superior officers, smooth an argument, and neither of them had turned on her. No one seemed particularly irked with her either. It was... an entirely new sensation really, this... talking up. Her heart felt fluttery, her hands were a little damp, but she took pointed strides towards the indicated desk and located the bottle of whatever it was. She grabbed an empty beaker from a counter, sniffed it, and poured a measure of the bottle in. "Cheers," she shut her eyes and drank deep.

And promptly coughed. Hard. "What. Is. This."

Liyar looked at her stoically. "As we say in Miran, it is a good start."

When Liyar had reminded her of the replicator, Maenad made a beeline toward it. She replicated herself a chicken salad sandwich and a bowl of plain potato chips before returning to Peers and Liyar. None of them were on duty, so she didn't mind that Liyar had broken a bottle of Vulcan alcohol, but she would have to tell him not to keep it in the lab anymore. "What's a good start?" she asked, only catching the end of the conversation. She bit into her sandwich.

Lilou pointed at the bottle with a squinty face. She couldn't quite feel her tongue, but her hands had stopped shaking. Pointedly, she exhaled hard and then polished off the glass, which tasted like... something... not drinkable, really, but made her forehead quite tingly.

Liyar followed Lilou over to his desk. Well, it wasn't his, but it sort of was, at this point, in true Vulcan style, he'd practically sat on top of it and declared it forth to the Universe. He reached under a drawer and pulled out two small glasses, grabbing the bottle from Lilou and pouring one before handing it back. Off duty was off duty. He tossed it back with a barely detectable grimace and looked at it pointedly. "Experimental," he feigned very badly indeed. "Fascinating scientific properties." Well, it wasn't a lie. Go boldly forth, and etcetera. It was one of the lesser alcohols from his province that affected the mesiofrontal cortex. Which Lilou did not have, so that aspect would not be translated. It was named after tea, ironically.

"Thanks for the offer," Maenad said to Liyar, looking at Peers while shaking her head at him.

Lilou slowly peeled her eyelids open again to find the bottle had been returned to her hand and her beaker was empty. That was better. Quite a bit better. She pressed her lips together and poured another measure, setting the bottle on the table and sinking into one of the rolling lab chairs, glass in hand. "I don't deal with conflict well," she muttered to herself. "That I do not."

Pouring himself another glass, drinking it promptly, and finding himself thoroughly attached to his bottle, Liyar sat down on his desk for real. "Conflict can be healthy, in moderate doses. It is a reflection of your capacity to exert your will. Not enough is unhealthy. Too much, unhealthy." He crossed his hands at his wrists and separated them in some sign of nope or another. "Just the right amount of conflict." He adopted a stuffy, bored tone like the one Dr. T'Kaylahr used to drone on and on to him in. Meridian didn't drone. This, he could appreciate. No lectures, no the tenets of C'Thia ad infinitum until death...

"I'm not sure there is a right amount," she said quietly. Exerting will. She might have laughed. The only time she ever felt like she could 'exert' any 'will' was when she was ensconced in Main Engineering, or hip deep in ODN lines. She didn't enjoy arguments. Debates among colleagues, maybe. She'd learned to handle Willis questioning her; relied on it really. He'd had years more experience than her. But he never got... angry. At least he hadn't at her, that she'd seen. It was that, maybe, then. Not the conflict. But the height of the conflict? But she was energized by her Borg attack program on the holodeck and what was that but endless conflict until she gave out? No, she thought, frowning into the beaker. Because it was still safe. She knew that if things became too much in there, she could call it off. Lick her wounds. People weren't like that. People were changeable. Like now. They'd been arguing moments before. Now Liyar was sipping from a shot glass and Lieutenant Panne was eating a sandwich. As though nothing had happened. How? She sniffed at the glass and winced. No. Best not to smell it. Just drink and be done. She took a small gulp and coughed against her hand, blinking hard. Strong. Very. Very. Strong.

"Everything changes, in the end," Liyar offered up in truly a philosophical manner. "If the change does not happen outside, it will happen inside. Conflict is nature's way of telling us that we are separate from one another, as much as we are entwined. It is like a machine. Parts must push and pull against one another in equal measures to create momentum, a whole force." He was Talking To Himself again as it sounded.

He was talking about gears, but they used circuits now. Circuitry and ODN lines that ran smoothly throughout the ship. Because machines with gears - they wound down. Broke down. And the constant conflict broke down people too, eventually, she thought. Herself included. If there hadn't been any marines on that ship, she would have been fine. She would have been herself and not this shaking leaf version of herself. And if there hadn't been a conflict, the marines wouldn't have needed to be there protecting the asteroids. Everything connected, but how... no. The how of it was all jagged edges and jarring sounds.

Maenad had finished her sandwich and Liyar was still ignoring her. Like she wasn't there at all. He clearly hadn't taken the hint when she'd sarcastically thanked him for the offer. She stepped between Peers in her chair and Liyar on the desk, bent down to open the cupboard, and removed a glass. She nearly slammed it next to the bottle, which she grabbed from him, and poured herself a glass. "Thank you," she gave the Vulcan an impatient frown and drank the shot. It was strong, but she didn't cough. She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in on her cheeks a little, but she didn't cough. She poured herself a second and did the same thing, then moved back to where she'd left her bowl of chips.

Liyar pressed the tip of his finger into a very specific-looking spot on his forehead. "No. Yes," he meant, but, "No." Very constructive, in all honesty. Thoughts were blending. All right, so maybe this whole drinking until your mesiofrontal cortex begins thinking two separate trains of thought at the same time while you were already batting a hundred for nuts was not a good idea. Liyar was the king of Great Ideas. He gave Maenad a small salute. "They work the same," he insisted with his own little frown. "Not the same way, but in the same manner." The Talky thing was not working so well. "We map the machinery of the outside world to reflect the inside world." There, back on track. "We try. They are an extension of us. Circuits, have parts, yes, also correct. Not relatable, however. Relatable subject: the brain. ODN and biopack communication relay networks, neural interface, why? We transpose. Even Vulcans. It is illogical, but it is due to the fact that we need the outside world to reflect the inside world in order to create the most complete level of efficiency. Yet, when you look at a brain, it is both efficient and nonefficient. It is the most complex system that exists, it does millions, billions of tasks at one moment. Quantum data strings," he added offhand with a slight gesture of his finger. "Yet every day we get... conflict," he said with an arched eyebrow. Conflict that was very familiar. "We are presented with choice. No, backtrack. Quantum data strings. Networks of data operating on simultaneous levels, simultaneous instruction, instantaneous relay and yet error. Error outside, error inside. Divergent thoughts, divergent decisions, quirks, imperfections. The universe is... not a smooth surface. You cannot have one set of data without another set, you could, but it would not look... you would have less of a context to define the information with. The more you have, the more complete - have you realized we are in fact having a debate?" he offered that with a small psychic pulse of reassurance that he was a little too tipsy to reign in and it floated through the air like dust. "Although, I have yet to determine if you are truly distressed. In which case I will," he reached for his bottle and grabbed another shot, falling silent. "I would stop," he said as if that was somehow significant. Then, "Perhaps that is the distinction. Some people mean to hurt and some people do not. Here, the intention does not exist. Neither you or I or Lieutenant Panne have any desire to harm one another, or to cause pain. If we did, there are far more efficient ways of doing it. Illogical, but true. It happens accidentally. Other times, it is purposeful. How that reflects within us is a result of our perception, our experience, what is relevant to us."

"You're having a debate," Lilou murmured with a finger pointing in his general direction, sipping, wincing at what had to be some kind of ancient fuel. "I'm just thinking. Think, think, think." Because she was. She couldn't help it. She felt quite often like a roll of ODN unspooling endlessly. And he was right. Part of it was that she didn't feel like he wanted to hurt her. He'd brought her back from the edge of being completely lost in her own awful, stupid, why won't they just go away? memories; it would have been pointless, illogical, for him to wait a day and then beat her senseless. And Lieutenant Panne... she was almost positive she hadn't done anything to make the woman want to hurt her. Almost. But people were surprising. Distressed, though... no. She wasn't. Not really. Just... surprised at herself. And the fact that she was sitting here drinking this... drink... with people. She never drank with people. She made an effort not to talk to people longer than she had to. Didn't she? So why was she even here? Because their minds are like ice and fire, she thought, looking between them. And I want to learn to be like that. Centered and brilliant. Watch and learn. She frowned a little, belatedly. Lieutenant Panne was still distressed. Slamming things. Slamming was not something people did when they were pleased. Or frowning. Well. She did, but that was beside the point. She wasn't People; she was just her. Or something. She exhaled, flattened a hand on the table, and swallowed the rest of the contents of the beaker. "Yaaa," she pressed a hand to the side of her head, blinked, sighed and sat back calmly.

"No death," Liyar murmured under his breath. He looked up at Maenad. "I am not ignoring you," he told her pointedly, blinking innocently up at her. He wasn't. Really. "I assumed that you were being what you would term sarcastic. Which is indicative of displeasure. Did you know that the term sarcasm comes from the Greek etymology sarkasmos," he butchered unpleasantly in a very horrible accent, "Which indicates to tear flesh, bite the lips in rage, sneer? Highly illogical," he said as though he himself were never remotely sarcastic, ever. Although, he mused to himself, it somehow reminded him of Vulcans anyway. Maybe they are all sarcastic. Maybe that is why so many people dislike them. "Hm," he finished brilliantly.

[OFF]

Lieutenant (JG) Maenad Panne
Chief Science Officer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant (JG) Liyar
Diplomatic Officer, VDF/SDD
USS Galileo

ENS Lilou Peers
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

SWO Sergei Petrov
Science Officer/Geologist
USS Galileo

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