Showing posts with label Data. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Data. Show all posts

Sunday 16 October 2022

The People of The Toaster-Oven Nation

PHILLIPA
When people of good conscience have an honest dispute, 
we must still sometimes resort to this kind 
of adversarial system. 

RIKER
You just want me to prove that Data is a mere machine. 
I can't do that because I don't believe it.
 I happen to know better. So I'm 
neither qualified nor willing. 
You're going to have to find someone else. 

PHILLIPA
Then I will rule summarily 
based upon my findings :
 Data is A Toaster. 
Have him report to 
Commander Maddox immediately 
for experimental refit. 




 [ Groaning ] [ Snarling ] [ Christie ] Get off me! [ Grunts ] Johner! Get off me! Get off me! Aaah! Johner! Die, m*therf*cker! Do it, man! [ Snarls ] Hey! [ Snarls ] [ Screeches ] [ Gasps ] Real nice party, ain't it? [ Groaning ] [ Grunts ] [ Groaning, Sobbing ] Christie! Christie! Christie! No! Christie! What are you doing? Don't do it! Don't! We can make it! No! [ Screams ] [ Groaning, Sobbing ] Damn! [ Grunting ] [ Breathing Erratically ] [ Alarm Beeping ] [ Grunts ] 

This way. Come on! 

Baby, am I glad to see you. 

I was sure that asshole got you. 
Are you hurt? 

I'm fine. 

You got body armor on? 

Yeah. Come on. 

Ripley-8 :
You took it in the chest. I saw it. 

[ Chuckles

You're A Robot? Son ofa bitch! 
Our little Call is just full of surprises. 

Ripley-8 :
I should have known — 
No Human Being is that humane

I thought Synthetics were supposed 
to be all logical and sh1t. 
You're just a big old psycho, girl. 

You're A Robot? 


Vriess
 :
You're Second-Gen, aren't you? 
You're an Auton - 
Robots, designed by robots, right? 


Hah! Oh, yeah. 
That's right. I remember. 
Now, they were supposed to revitalise 
The Synthetic Industry.
Instead, they buried it. [ Chuckles

They didn't like being 
told What to Do. 

Government ordered a recall. 
Now, I heard— I had— 
I had heard... 
that only a few - just a few-
had gotten out intact
Man, I never, never thought 
that I would see one! 

Great. She's a toaster oven. 
Can we leave now? 

[ Distephano Laughing ] 

Ripley-8 :
How long before we land? 


Distephano :
Just under two hours. 

Johner :
Hey, Vriess. You got a socket wrench? 
Maybe she just needs an oil change. 

FATHER : 
I'm sorry. Access denied. 

Johner :
I can't believe I almost fucked it. 


Vriess :
Yeah, like you never fucked a robot! 

[ Ripley ] 
You know, if Wren gets in the computer, he could really screw us. 

Johner
We gotta find a terminal. 

No, there's no console on this level. 
We'd have to go back. 

Well, we can't go back. 
And I don't know any 
of Wren's access codes. 

Ripley-8 :
Help Me. Call. 

Call :
No. I can't. 

Right.  You're the new-model droid. 
You can access the mainframe by remote. 

No, I can't. I burned my 
modem. We all did. 

Ripley-8 :
Call, you can still patch in manually
You know that. 

Distephano :
There's ports in the chapel, up there. Call. 

Call crosses herself in front of the altar

Ripley-8 :
You're programmed for that? 


Don't make me do this. 

Ripley-8 :
Don't make me make you. 


[ Sighs ] I don't want to go in there. 
It's like my insides are liquid. 
It's like I’m not real. 

Ripley-8 :
Get over it. You can blow the ship before it reaches Earth... and kill them all. 


[ Sniffles ] 

Ripley-8 :
Just give us time to get out first. 


Damn it. 

Ripley-8 :

Anything? 

Hold on. 

ComputerVoice :
Breach in Sector 7, Sector 3. Sector 9 unstable. 
Engines operating at 41 %. 
Eighty-six minutes until Earth dock. 

[ Sighs ] 
 Normal Voice 
We burned too much energy. 
I can't make critical mass. 
I can't blow it. 

Ripley-8 :
Then crash it. 


[ Grunting ] [ Grunting ] Yeah. [ Gasping ] [ Grunting ] 
I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I feel good. 

Call: Computer Voice :
Ground level recalibrated. New destination: 7-6-0-4-0-3. Uninhabited quadrant. 
Braking systems off-lined. 
Acceleration increase. 
Time until impact now 
43 minutes, 8 seconds. 
Try to clear us a path to the Betty... 
and start her up. [ Normal Voice ] Okay. [ Whirring, Beeping ] [ ComputerVoice ] Please wait. Emergency override in console 45V, Level 1. [ Gasps ] [ Normal Voice ] 
It's Wren. He's almost at the Betty. 

[ Beeping ] [ Buzzes ] [ Powering Down ] 
Father, locate the power drain. 
Report. Father? 
Father! 

[ Call Over Speaker ] 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
Father's Dead, asshole. 
Intruder on Level 1. 
All Aliens, please proceed to Level 1. 


Ripley-8 :
You got a mean streak. 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
[ GroansDamn it. 

Let me see. 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
Don't touch me. 

Ripley-8 :
Come on. 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
You must think this is pretty funny. 

Ripley-8 :
I'm finding a lot of things funny lately, 
but I don't think that they are.

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
 Why do you go on living? 
How can you stand being what you are

Ripley-8 :
Not much choice. 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
At least there's a part of you that's Human. 
[ Sighs ] I'm just— Look at me. I'm disgusting


Ripley-8 :
Why did you come here? 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
To kill you, remember? 
Before the recall, I accessed The Mainframe. 
Every dirty little covert op The Government 
ever dreamed of is in there. 
And this - You, The Aliens, 
even The Crew from the Betty 
I knew if they succeededit would 
be The End of Them. 

Ripley-8 :
Why do you care what happens to Them? 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
Because I'm programmed to. 

Ripley-8 :
You're programmed to be an asshole
You're the new asshole model 
They're putting out? Come on. 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
I couldn't watch 'em do it. 
I couldn't let 'em annihilate themselves. 
Do you understand that? 

Ripley-8 :
I did, once. I tried to Save... People
It didn't work out
There was this girl. She had bad dreams. 
I tried to help her. She died
Now I can't even remember her name. 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
I guess we're almost there.

Ripley-8 :
Right. 

[ Ripley-8 Sighs

Ripley-8 :
Do You Dream? 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
 I — Well, we have 
neuroprocessors that — Yes

Ripley-8 :
When I sleep, I dream 
about Themit
Every night. All around me, in me. 
I used to be afraid to dream, 
but I'm not anymore. 

Call of The Toaster-Oven Nation :
Why

[ Ripley-8 chuckles ] 

Ripley-8 :
Because no matter how bad 
the dreams get, when I wake up, 
it's always worse

Distephano :
It's not so far now! 
God, I'm so tired. 

Johner :
Sleep when you die, man. 
Oh, no. This is bad, right? 

I think we're near the nest. 
Well, then we'll go another way. 

We don't have time. 

We got nearly 90 minutes. 

Not anymore. 

What are you saying? 
What did you do, robot? 
Let's go. Come on. Hey! 

You want to die here 
with your little brothers 
and sisters, that's cool! 
But I plan to live past today! 
If this little hunk of plastic is pulling any sh1t, I'm gonna kill her! Kill you! 
Does that computeOr do I have 
to draw you a schematic? 

Ripley-8 grabs him by the tongue — 
[ Gagging

Ripley-8 :
Hey! You want another souvenir? 

[ Gagging Continues

Ripley-8 :
How far are the docks? 


A h-hundred yards.

Sunday 18 September 2022

SEEMS

 
 
 
That is in fact, after all, 
the very essential nature 
of The Material Universe -- 
it’s always constantly coming-apart 
at The Seems.
 
 
 Bill's Ghost :
Is he here? Is The Doctor here?

(Her Doctor comes out of The TARDIS.)

Bill's Ghost : 
Doctor! (they hug) I knew itI did, I knew it. 
I knew you couldn't be Dead, 
you don't have the concentration. 

Doctor? What are you doing?

(He scans her with the sonic screwdriver.)

Dr. Disco :
Just keep still, please
Bill Potts.

Bill's Ghost :
Yeah.

Dr. Disco : 
My Friend Bill Potts was 
turned into a Cyberman
She gave Her Life so that people 
she barely knew could Live.
So, let's be clear -- Nobody 
imitates Bill Potts. 
Nobody mocks Bill Potts.

Bill's Ghost :
Bill Potts is standing 
right in front of you.

Dr. Disco :
How is that even possible?

Bill's Ghost :
Well, long story, short -- I totally pulled.

Old Grandfather : 
You, you did what?

Bill's Ghost : 
Heather. Do you remember, 
the girl in the puddle? 
Well, she showed up
She came for me.

Dr. Disco :
How romantic. Where is she?

Bill's Ghost :
Well, she's. She's.

Dr. Disco :
 And how did you get here?

Bill's Ghost :
I don't... I, I can't

Dr. Disco :
You can't remember. 
No, I bet you can't. 

(He scans her again.)

Old Grandfather :
That device. What is it?

Dr. Disco :
It's a sonic screwdriver.

Old Grandfather :
A, a what screwdriver?

Dr. Disco :
It's really a very good job.

Old Grandfather :
An audio screwdriver?

Dr. Disco :
There are only three low-key markers 
indicating that she's a duplicate.

Bill's Ghost :
I'm not a duplicate!

Dr. Disco :
So, who has been stealing 
The Faces of The Dead?

(The Doctors walk up the stairs to some very advanced technology.)

Old Grandfather :
Time travel technology, eh? Obviously.

Dr. Disco :
From the far future.

Old Grandfather :
I know. Sunglasses?

Dr. Disco :
They're sonic.

Old Grandfather :
Indoors?

(Flash. The Glass Woman appears.)

Dr. Disco :
So, What are You?

GLASS WOMAN
We are What Awaits at The End of Every Life. 
As every living soul dies, so We will appear. 
We take from You What We Need 
and return You to The Moment 
of Your Death. We are Testimony.

(All the archways light up. Very Tomb of the Cybermen.)

Dr. Disco :
You come from the distant future. 
You travel back in Time, find people 
at the exact point of death, and what, 
you harvest something from them?

GLASS WOMAN
Yes

Dr. Disco :
On behalf of The Dying
What is it that We have that 
The Future needs so badly?

Old Grandfather : 
And what has any of this to do with
 a War World One Captain landing 
at The South Pole in the wrong decade?

GLASS WOMAN
We were returning him to the appointed 
Time and Place of His Death. 
An error in the timeline ejected him 
into the wrong time zone. 
Now His Death must proceed 
as History demands.

Old Grandfather : 
If I may.

(He peers at her through his monocle.)

Old Grandfather :
Who were You?

Dr. Disco : 
She wasn't anyone.

(Sonic screwdriver.)

Dr. Disco : 
She's a computer-generated interface
connected to a multiform, 
inter-phasing data-bank.

Old Grandfather : 
Oh, for Heaven's Sake
will you put that ridiculous 
buzzing toy away and 
look at The Woman! You see? 

Her Face, it's very slightly asymmetrical. 
If it were computer-generated, 
it wouldn't produce that effect.

Dr. Disco : 
Yes. You're absolutely right
I should have noticed that.

Old Grandfather : 
Well, it might help if you 
could see properly.

(He removes the sonic glasses and drops them on the floor.)

Sunday 18 April 2021

Hugh’s Cave




Okay. 
This is for you

It regulates the power flow to the frequency that you're used to. 
This connection should fit the coupling on your arm. 

You're welcome.



RIKER: 
Hugh? 

HUGH: 
Why are you here, Commander Riker? 
Hasn't the crew of the Enterprise caused enough damage already? 
(a little later) 


WORF
So you blame us for what has happened to the Borg? 


HUGH: 
You gave me a sense of Individuality, changed me,
 then sent me back to The Collective. 

You must have known that change would be passed on to others. 


RIKER: 
We considered it. 
We knew it was a possibility. 


HUGH: 
Then you made it possible for Lore to dominate us. 


WORF: 
I cannot accept that. 
Lore is only one —
The Borg could have stopped him. 


HUGH: 
You don't know the condition we were in when he found us. 

Before my experience on The Enterprise, The Borg were a single-minded Collective. 

The voices in our heads were smooth and flowing

But after I returned, those voices began to change. 
They became uneven, discordant

For the first time, individual Borg had differing ideas about how to proceed. 

We couldn't function. 

Some Borg fought each other. 
Others simply shut themselves down. 
Many starved to death. 


RIKER: 
And then Lore came along. 


HUGH: 
You probably can't imagine what it is like to be so lost and frightened that you will listen to any voice which promises change. 


WORF: 
Even if that voice insists on controlling you. 


HUGH: 
That's what we wanted
Someone to show us the way out of confusion. 

Lore promised clarity and purpose

In the beginning, he seemed like a saviour. 

The promise of becoming a superior race, 
of becoming fully artificial was compelling. 

We gladly did everything he asked of us. 

But after a while, it became clear that Lore had no idea how to keep his promise. 

That's when he began talking about the need for us to make sacrifices

Before we realised it, this was the result. 

RIKER: 
What happened to them? 


HUGH: 
Lore began to experiment, 
trying to re-make us in his image. 

This is the result of my encounter with The Enterprise, Commander. 

So you can see I don't particularly welcome your presence here. 

RIKER: 
I'm sorry you feel that way. 
We just came to get our people. 
We won't cause you any more trouble. 


HUGH: 
Tell me about my friend. 


RIKER: 
Friend? 


HUGH: 
The Human called Geordi. 

RIKER: 
I wish I could tell you about him. 
We think he may be held inside the compound. 


HUGH: 
[hesitantly
I cannot help you. 
I cannot risk our being discovered. 


RIKER: 
Can you at least show us a way into the compound? 


HUGH: 
These caverns lead to tunnels which run beneath the compound. 
Some of them connect with the environmental control ducts. 


WORF: 
Show us. 
If we can determine the geography of the compound, 
we can form a rescue plan.

Wednesday 7 April 2021

Fear is No Different to Any Other Monster





First Inaugural Address of Franklin D. Roosevelt



SATURDAY, MARCH 4, 1933

I am certain that my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the Presidency I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present situation of our Nation impels. 

This is preeminently the time to Speak The Truth, The WholeTruth, Frankly and Boldly. 


Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. 

This Great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper


So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is : Fear, itself -- 

Nameless, Unreasoning, Unjustified Terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”





(Geordi fits the new power conduit) 


BORG: 

We are Borg. 

You will be assimilated. 

Resistance is futile.


LAFORGE: 

Just look around, pal. 

You're hardly in a position to make any demands.


BORG: 

We must return to the Collective.


LAFORGE: 

...who “we”?


BORG: 

We are Borg.


LAFORGE: 

Yeah, but —

There's only one of you

Do you have a name? 

A means of identification?

Thursday 25 March 2021

DEAD A.I.s

 
 

 
You Wanna Learn How to FIGHT
How to  SPEAK-UP and Be BRAVE --
 
Because Saints Stand up for Themselves
AND OTHERS -- 
 
So That They Might 
Be HEARD
 
BUFFY, 
The Vampire Slayer 
(and you are...?) :
Hey. 
 
YANA,
Jenny Calendar :
Hi. Uh, is there something that... 
Did you want something? 
 
BUFFY, 
The Vampire Slayer 
(and you are...?) :
Look... I know you feel badly about What Happened
and I just Wanted to Say... 
 
Good. Keep it up. 
 
YANA,
Jenny Calendar :
Don't worry, I will. 
 
BUFFY, 
The Vampire Slayer 
(and you are...?) :
Oh, wait. Um... 
 
He Misses You
 
He doesn't say anything, I mean, 
but I know that he does
and I don't want him to be lonely
 
I don't want anyone to. 
 
YANA,
Jenny Calendar :
Buffy, you know that if I have a chance to make this up... 
 
BUFFY, 
The Vampire Slayer 
(and you are...?) :
We're... Good here. 
Let's just leave it.
 
 
 
LARIS :
Oh, the cheeky fuckers.
They've overwritten the particle residuum.
 
PICARD :
Overwritten it? 
 
LARIS :
Yes. And in a very sophisticated way.
It's barely detectable.
It would read as instrument failure if you didn't know better.
 
But it's not.
It's a flat-out wipe.
 
PICARD :
Can you recover it? Uh —
 
LARIS :
Have you never noticed the complete absence of any form of Artificial Life in Romulan culture? 
 
We don't have androids or AIs.
We don't study Cybernetics.
Our computers are limited to purely numerical functions.
 
 
They must have saturated this place in antileptons.
At no small risk to themselves, by the way.
This place hasn't just been cleaned, Admiral.
It's been scrubbed.
 
PICARD :
Is that to be expected of your Zhat Vash? 
 
LARIS :
Well, they're not my Zhat Vash, 
and I thought you didn't believe in them.
 
PICARD :
I may be coming around.
So, then all this is about the Zhat Vash hatred of androids.
 
 
LARIS :
It's not simply hate.
It's hate and fear and pure loathing for any form of Synthetic Life.
 
Why..? That I can't tell you.
I don't know.
 
But I am certain that is 
The Silence That Seals The Mouths of The Zhat Vash, 
as surely and eternally as Death.
 
The Operatives who did this wouldn't have wanted to leave the impression that the place had been scrubbed.
 
We may find they've neglected something, 
some actual clue that lay tucked inside a false clue, as it were.
 
PICARD : 
Something like this, for example? 
There's no record of any incoming or outgoing calls.
 
 
LARIS :
The information's there, 
but the indexes have been surgically deleted.
 
There's no way to sort the data.
Essentially, they've sterilized it, 
so that it's qualitatively agnostic.
 
There's no distinction.
 
Everything looks like Everything Else.
What we need is a record of any contact that she may have had 
 
PICARD : 
- with her sister.
 
 
Mm, and no doubt it's in here, but it will look the same as everything else.
 
 PICARD :
N-No, it it will look like her.
Like Dahj.
 
Wh-What's her name? 
 
 
Um, Dr. Jurati.
She said that they would be identical twins, right?
Even closer than twins, perhaps.
 
 
LARIS :
Okay.
So what's the first thing you do when you bring a new digital assistant online?
 
 PICARD :
Introduce myself.
 
LARIS :
Exactly.
Computers like Efficiency, so what a computer does is build heuristics, shortcuts to the tasks - it performs most often.
 
 PICARD :
You're saying that if they were indistinguishable, then the machine, at some point, could have mistaken The Sister for Dahj.
 
 
 
LARIS :
Exactly.
And if it did, even for a few seconds before it flagged the error, then the tags might still be in here, overlooked by even the most diligent of scrubbers.
 
[BEEPING.]
 
Got you.
Okay.
These were all outgoing.
And these were incoming.
 
PICARD :
It's her.
Ghosts in the machine.
Can you tell me where she is? 
 
 
LARIS :
No.
But I can tell you where she isn't.
Nonlocal information packets are routed through subspace relays.
This routing leaves tiny but unmistakable code marks.
 
 PICARD :
Nonlocal? 
 
 
LARIS :
I'm saying this transmission came from off-world.
 
 PICARD :
Are you certain?
 
 
LARIS :
Wherever this girl was calling her sister from, 
it's nowhere on Earth.
 



 
[Janeway's quarters]
 
(Janeway is reading a book whilst music plays quietly. The doorbell chimes.)
 
JANEWAY: 
Come in. Are you having a little trouble regenerating? 
 
SEVEN: 
My alcove is functioning properly. 
I am having trouble with The Nature of Individuality. 
 
JANEWAY 
There's a time and a place for philosophical discussion. 
Two in the morning in my quarters isn't one of them. 
But I'll tell you what. 
Meet me in the mess hall tomorrow. 
 
SEVEN: 
Tomorrow will be too late. 
We'll have already rewritten The Doctor's programme by then.
 
JANEWAY: 
And violated his rights as An Individual. 
 
SEVEN: 
Precisely. 
 
JANEWAY: 
If you've come to act as My Conscience, you're a little late. 
I considered these issues eighteen months ago,
as I did again this morning. 
I came to the same conclusion. 
 
SEVEN: 
Your conclusion is wrong
 
JANEWAY: 
Coffee, black. 
(she takes a sip.
Lukewarm. 
 
Now, I've told that replicator a dozen times
about the temperature of my coffee. 
 
It just doesn't seem to want to listen
 
Almost as if it's got a mind of its own
But it doesn't.
 
MAYBE IT THINKS HAVING LUKEWARM COFFEE
WOULD BE GOOD FOR YOUR HUMILITY, CAPTAIN.
 
A replicator operates through a series of electronic pathways
that allow it to receive instructions
and take appropriate action, and there you go. 
 
A cup of coffee, a bowl of soup,
a plasma conduit, whatever we tell it to do. 
 
As difficult as it is to accept,
The Doctor is more like that replicator than he is like us
 
SEVEN: 
He would disagree
 
JANEWAY: 
I'm sure he would,
but I can't let that change my decision.
 
I learned that the hard way
when his programme almost self-destructed. 
I won't take that risk again
 
SEVEN: 
The risk isn't yours to take. 
 
JANEWAY: 
If one of my crew chose to put a phaser
to his own head, should I let him? 
 
SEVEN:
It would depend on the situation. 
 
JANEWAY: 
It always depends on the situation, Seven,
but we can debate philosophy another time
 
SEVEN: 
When you separated me from The Collective,
I was an unknown risk to your crew,
yet you kept me on board.
 
You allowed me to evolve into An Individual. 
 
JANEWAY: 
You're a human being. 
He's a hologram. 
 
SEVEN: 
And you allowed that hologram to evolve as well,
to exceed his original programming. 
 
And yet now you choose to abandon him
 
JANEWAY: 
Objection noted. 
Good night. 
 
SEVEN: 
It is unsettling
You say that I am a human being and yet I am also Borg. 
Part of me not unlike your replicator. 
 
Not unlike The Doctor. 
Will you one day choose to abandon me as well
 
I have always looked to you as my example,
my guide to humanity. 
 
Perhaps I've been mistaken. 
Good night.
 
[Medical lab]
 
(The EMH comes out of his office to meet Torres and Janeway.)
 
JANEWAY: 
I'd like to think I made my decision eighteen months ago
for all the right reasons. 
 
The Truth is, my own biases about What You Are
had just as much to do with it.
 
At the very least, you deserve to know
Exactly What Happened.
If you're willing.
 
 
EMH: 
I'm ready. 
 
(They do the procedure in the Computer Control room.)
 
[Memories - Mess hall]
 
(The room is dark.)
 
PARIS: 
You're standing on my foot. 
 
EMH: 
I am not. 
 
TORRES:
Shush. 
 
(Neelix and Jetal enter.)
 
NEELIX: 
If you ask me, they should have just locked the turbolift and thrown away….
 
JETAL: 
Neelix, the power's down. 
Jetal to Torres. 
 
TORRES: 
Er, go ahead, Ensign. 
Or should I say. 
(The lights come on.)
 
ALL: 
Surprise!  
 
(Tuvok carries in the blue cake.)
 
JETAL: 
I'm going to kill you.
 (Later.)
 
CHAKOTAY: 
I want you to go along on a few of the shuttle surveys. 
If I can talk you into it. 
 
EMH: 
Another away mission? 
Certainly! I'm flattered. 
 
KIM: 
I guess the birthday girl and I get the pleasure of your company, Doc. 
 
CHAKOTAY: 
You launch at nineteen hundred hours, shuttlebay one. 
 
JETAL: 
Hello, Doctor. 
 
EMH: 
Ensign Jetal. I haven't seen you in months. 
 
JETAL: 
The price I pay for staying in good health. 
 
EMH: 
So, keeping busy down on deck eleven? 
 
JETAL: 
Too busy. We're modifying one of the shuttles,
making it more manoeuvrable and more cool. 
 
EMH: 
I see you've been working with Mister Paris.
My condolences.
 
[Memories - Shuttlecraft]
 
KIM:
I thought I picked up a slight distortion in subspace,
but it's not there any more. 
 
JETAL:
Nothing on long range sensors but a few hydrogen atoms. 
 
KIM:
Candid shot? 
 
EMH:
Try to look natural. 
 
JETAL:
Oh, at least it's my good side. 
EMH: Let's get one of the group. 
(The EMH stands the holo-imager on a rear seat and sets the self-timer.)
KIM: This is the last one. 
EMH: Say cheese. 
BOTH: Cheese. 
JETAL: Doctor, I have a shuttle to fly. 
EMH: Ah, yes. 
(Whumph!)
KIM: What was that? 
JETAL: Our sensors are dead. 
KIM: Power's being drained. Shields and weapons are offline. 
EMH: How? 
(He snaps an image of the ship attacking them. Then they are boarded. Another Whumph! makes him drop the holo-imager, and as it lands it snaps the alien before it shoots them. 
The EMH is unaffected, and he dashes to the controls. The alien is beamed away.)
EMH: Doctor to Voyager, mayday. We're under attack. I've got wounded. Mayday! 
CHAKOTAY [OC]: Acknowledged, Doctor. Set navigational controls to return to Voyager. 
EMH: Commander, can you hear me? 
CHAKOTAY [OC]: Doctor, please respond. 
(The EMH gets Jetal's blood on his hands.)
EMH: Hello? Computer, engage autonavigation. Lay in a course for Voyager, full impulse. 
KIM: Doctor. 
EMH: Stay calm. That weapon carried quite a punch. 
KIM: Is she okay? 
EMH: She's unconscious. 
KIM: Voyager? 
EMH: We've lost contact. I sent that alien back to his ship. You think they'd be grateful. 
KIM: You should have beamed him into space. 
EMH: I'm not in the business of killing people, Ensign. Synaptic shock? But there was no neural damage. Mister Kim! I don't understand. No. 
(The attack continues until Voyager arrives.)
CHAKOTAY [OC]: Doctor, stand by for transport. 
EMH: Beam us directly to Sickbay.
 
[Memories - Sickbay]
 
EMH: 
Prepare these people for surgery. 
 
PARIS: Here. What happened? 
EMH: We were fired on. There's something wrong with their nervous systems. We've got to stabilise their synapses. Get me a choline compound.
 
PARIS: 
Which choline compound? 
 
EMH: 
It doesn't matter. 
Just make sure it's a pure base. 
Her spinal cord's deteriorating. (He checks Kim.) 
Same rate of collapse. 
PARIS: 
Acetylcholine, twenty five microlitres. 
It's not helping. I'm reading massive synaptic failure.
 
EMH:
This doesn't make any sense. 
PARIS: 
Paris to Engineering. Transfer all available power to Sickbay. 
TORRES [OC]: Acknowledged. 
 
 
EMH: 
Some kind of plasmic energy is arcing between their neural membranes. That weapon, it was designed to do this. 
PARIS: To leave a residual charge in the victim's body? 
EMH: An energy pulse that remains in the neural membranes, working its way up the spinal cord to the brain. They'll be dead in minutes if we don't find a way to stop it. I've got to protect their brain functions. 
PARIS: His neocortex is failing. 
EMH: A spinal shunt. I'll isolate the spinal cord from the brain stem until I can repair the cellular damage. But I don't have time to perform the procedure on both of them. 
PARIS: Then talk me through it. We'll do them together. 
EMH: It's too complex. 
PARIS: Then make a choice, before we lose them both! 
(The EMH choses Kim.)
EMH: Subdermal scalpel. Bio-electric field generator. 
PARIS: His vital signs are stabilising. It's working. 
EMH: Cellular regenerator. His neural membranes are re-establishing themselves. Good. (The biobed behind them signals Jetal's death.)
 
[Computer Control room]
 
EMH: The attack, how did it end? Were there more casualties? 
JANEWAY: We exchanged fire for another few minutes, then the aliens withdrew. There was only one casualty. Ensign Jetal. 
EMH: I don't mean to seem unfeeling, but I'm programmed to accept the loss of a patient with professional detachment.
 
[Memories - Bridge]
 
JANEWAY: We are assembled here today to pay final respects to our honoured dead, Ensign Ahni Jetal. Her intelligence and her charm have made our long journey home seem not quite so long. As she continues on a journey of her own, we will keep her in our hearts and in our memories.
(Tuvok fires Jetal's torpedo casing coffin into space.)
 
[Memories - Mess hall]
 
EMH: We're low on synthetic antigens, and I'm sorry to report many of the medicinal plants you've collected over the past several months were destroyed as well. 
NEELIX: I have some herbs in storage you might be able to use. 
EMH: Been holding out on me? 
NEELIX: No, I was keeping them around just in case. 
EMH: Good planning. 
NEELIX: As for the antigens, I'll have to start replicating them in batches. Which do you want first? 
EMH: Decisions, decisions. How do you make a decision, Mister Neelix? In general, I mean. 
NEELIX: I guess I weigh the alternatives and try to decide which is best. 
(The EMH picks up two fruit. One red, one yellow.)
 
EMH: Which is best. How do you determine that? 
 
NEELIX: I never thought about it, really. 
 
EMH: Well, maybe you should. Think about it, I mean. 
 
NEELIX: I guess every situation is a little different. 
 
EMH: 
For me, it's rather simple. 
While I'm faced with a decision, my programme calculates the variables, and I take action. 
For example, what could be simpler than a triage situation in Sickbay? Two patients, for example, both injured, for example, both in imminent danger of dying. 
Calculate the variables. 
My programme needs to ascertain which patient has the greater chance of survival, and that's the one I treat. 
 
(He throws the red fruit across the room.)
 
EMH: 
Simple. 
But, what if they have an Equal Chance of Survival? 
What then? Hmm? 
Flip a coin? Pick a card? 
 
NEELIX: 
Doctor. 
 
EMH: 
Oh, I'm all right. 
I'm a hologram. 
I don't get injured, I don't feel pain, I don't die. 
Unlike some people I could tell you about. 
For example, Two Patients. 
 
Both injured, both in imminent danger of. 
Don't touch me! I'm a hologram. Photonic energy. Don't waste your time. 
 
NEELIX: 
Neelix to Security. Send a team to the Mess hall, please. 
 
EMH: 
A whole team, Mister Neelix? Throwing a little party, are we?
Why, I attended a party just recently.
A birthday party for a very nice young woman.
I made a decision there, too. Several of them, in fact.
When I came through the door, do I turn right or do I turn left?
As I recall, I decided on the latter.
 
Then, what should I see before me but the hors d'oeuvre tray,
and another decision. 
Do I take a canapé or refuse?
 
Oh, that's an easy one.
I'm a hologram. I don't eat. 
 
(Tuvok and security arrive.)
 
NEELIX:
Something's wrong with him. 
 
EMH:
Don't you know it's rude to refer to somebody in the third person.
You had a choice, Mister Neelix.
Should I do something rude or not do something rude? 
 
TUVOK:
Doctor, we must return to Sickbay. 
 
EMH:
Why should I? What if I don't want to return to Sickbay?
What if I decide not to return to Sickbay? No, I don't choose this.
 
Leave me alone!
Let me go!
 
Why did she have to die? Why did I kill her?
Why did I decide to kill her? Why? Somebody tell me why!
 
[Computer control room]
 
JANEWAY:
It was downhill from there.
 
You developed a feedback loop
between your ethical and cognitive subroutines.
 
You were having the same thoughts over and over again.
We couldn't stop it.     
 
TORRES:
Our only option was to erase your memories of those events. 
 
EMH:
You were right.
I didn't deserve to keep those memories,
not after what I did
 
JANEWAY:
You were performing Your Duty. 
 
EMH:
Two patients, which do I kill?
 
JANEWAY:
Doctor.
    
EMH: 
Doctor? Hardly! 
A Doctor retains his objectivity. 
I didn't do that, did I
 
Two patients, equal chances of survival
and I chose the one I was closer to? 
I chose My Friend?
 
That's not in My Programming! 
That's not what I was Designed to Do!
 
Go ahead! Reprogramme me! I'll lend you a hand!
Let's start with this very day, this hour, this second! 
 
JANEWAY: 
Computer, deactivate the EMH. 
 
TORRES
Here we go again. Captain? 
 
JANEWAY
It's as though there's a battle being fought inside him, 
between His Original Programming and What He's Become
 
Our solution was to end that battle. 
What if we were wrong? 
 
TORRES: 
We've seen what happens to him. 
In fact, we've seen it twice. 
 
JANEWAY: 
Still, we allowed him to evolve,
and at the first sign of Trouble...? 
 
We gave him A Soul, B'Elanna. 
Do we have the right to take it away now?
 
TORRES: 
We gave him personality subroutines -- 
I'd hardly call that A Soul.
 
[Cargo Bay two]
 
(Janeway brings Seven out of regeneration.)
 
SEVEN: 
Captain. 
 
JANEWAY: 
I'm having Trouble --
with The Nature of Individuality. 
 
SEVEN: 
You require a philosophical discussion? 
 
JANEWAY: 
There's a Time and a Place for it. 
This is one of them. 
 
After I freed you from The Collective, you were transformed. 
It's been a difficult process. 
 
Was it worth it? 
 
SEVEN: 
I had no choice.
 
JANEWAY:
That's not what I asked you.
 
SEVEN: 
If I could change What Happened
erase What You Did to Me, would I? 
 
No.
 
Captain's log, supplemental. 
Our Doctor is now our patient. 
 
It's been two weeks since I've ordered a round the clock vigil
A crew member has stayed with him at all times, offering a sounding board and a familiar presence while he struggles to understand his memories and thoughts. 
 
The Chance of Recovery? Uncertain.
 
[Holodeck]
 
EMH: 
The more I think about it, the more I realise
There's nothing I could've done differently. 
 
JANEWAY: 
What do you mean
 
EMH: 
The primordial atom burst, sending out its radiation,
setting everything in motion. 
 
One particle collides with another, gases expand, planets contract, 
and before you know it we've got starships and holodecks and chicken soup. 
 
In fact, you can't help but have starships and holodecks and chicken soup, 
because it was all determined twenty billion years ago!  
 
(Tuvok enters during this outburst.)
 
TUVOK: 
There is A Certain Logic to your Logic.
Progress? 
 
JANEWAY: 
I'm not sure if he's making any sense of this experience, 
or if his programme's just running in circles
 
TUVOK: 
You've been here for sixteen hours. 
Let me continue while you rest. 
 
JANEWAY: 
I'll be all right. 
Go back to the bridge.  
 
 
(Tuvok leaves. Janeway returns to her book.)
 
EMH: 
How can you read at a time like this? 
 
JANEWAY: 
It helps me Think.
 
EMH: 
Think? What do you need to think about? 
 
JANEWAY:
 You. This book is relevant to your situation. 
 
EMH: 
Oh? What is it? 
 
JANEWAY: 
Poetry, written on Earth a thousand years ago. 
La Vita Nuova. 
 
EMH: 
La Vita Nuova. The New Life? Ha! 
Tell that to Ensign Jetal. 
Actually, I killed her countless times. 
 
JANEWAY
What do you mean
 
EMH: 
Causality, Probability. 
 
For every action, there's an infinite number of reactions
and in each one of them, I killed her
 
Or did I? 
 
Too many possibilities. 
Too many pathways for my programme to follow. 
Impossible to choose. 
 
Still, I can't live with the knowledge of what I've done. I can't. 
 
(Janeway has fallen asleep.)
 
EMH: 
Captain? Captain? 
 
JANEWAY: 
Oh, sorry. 
 
EMH: 
How could you sleep at a time like this? 
 
JANEWAY: 
It's been a long day.
 
You were saying? 
 
EMH: 
What's wrong? 
 
JANEWAY: 
Nothing. 
 
EMH: 
You're ill!
 
JANEWAY: 
I have a headache.
 
EMH: 
Fever, you have a fever
 
JANEWAY: 
I'll live.
 
EMH: 
Medical emergency! 
 
JANEWAY: 
Doctor --
 
EMH: 
Someone's got to treat you immediately
Call Mister Paris. You've got to get to Sickbay.
 
JANEWAY: 
Doctor, I'm a little busy right now --
Helping a Friend
 
EMH: 
I, I'll be all right. Go, sleep, please. 
I'll still be here in the morning. 
 
JANEWAY: 
Are you sure
 
EMH: 
Yes. Please, 
 
I don't want to be responsible for 
any more suffering
 
(Janeway leave her book open at the first page.)
 
JANEWAY: 
Good night. If you need anything --
 
EMH: 
-- I'll call. 
Thank You, Captain. 
 
(Janeway leaves. The EMH picks up the book and reads aloud.)
 
EMH: 
"In That Book which is My Memory, 
on The First Page of The Chapter That is The Day When I First Met You,
 appear the words - 
 
Here begins A New Life.
 
 
 
 
PICARD:
(sighs) 
Another damn dream.
 
DATA'S GHOST :
No, Captain.
 
It is a 
Massively Complex Quantum Simulation.
 
I would imagine, however, 
from Your Point of View, 
Hearing me say so would not be out of place in 
A Dream You Might Have about me --
 
If you ever have dreams about me.
 
 
PICARD:
I dream about you all the time.
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Interesting.
 
Are you wearing the clothes you had on 
when you died?
 
PICARD:
Data... am I dead?
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Yes, Captain.
Do you remember dying?
 
PICARD:
I think I do --
 
Something in My Head seemed to just go away -
 
Like a child's sand castle collapsing.
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Hmm.
 
I'm aware that I was killed in 2379, 
but I have no memory of My Death.
 
My Consciousness exists 
in a Massively Complex Quantum Reconstruction
made from a copy of 
The Memories I Downloaded into B4 Just Before I Died.
 
PICARD:
You don't remember Your Death,
I can't forget it.
 
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Apparently, I ended My Existence
in the hope of prolonging yours.
 
PICARD:
That's right. 
Before I had even grasped the nature of our predicament, 
you had conceived and executed it.
 
I was furious!
 
DATA'S GHOST :
My apologies, Captain.
 
But I am not certain
I could have done otherwise.
 
 
PICARD:
True. That might have been 
The Most Data Thing 
you ever did.
 
I always wished that I could have said,
I was sorry that it was you and not me.
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Captain -- Do you regret 
Sacrificing Your Life 
for Soji and Her People?
 
PICARD:
Not for an instant.
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Then why would you imagine 
I regret sacrificing mine for yours?
 
 
PICARD:
Ah.
 Did you say all this was A Simulation?
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Yes, sir. An extremely sophisticated one.
 
My memory engrams were extracted from a single neuron 
salvaged by Bruce Maddox, and then 
My Consciousness was reconstructed by My Brother,
Dr. Altan Soong.
 
 
PICARD:
I don't much care for him.
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Mm. The Soongs can be...
I believe the phrase is "an acquired taste."
 
PICARD:
Mm-hmm. Well, whatever This is, 
it's wonderful to see you, Data.
 
To see your strange, beautiful face.
 
Among the many, many things that I regretted after Your Death
was that I never told you...
 
 
DATA'S GHOST :
...that you loved me.
 
Knowing that You Loved Me 
forms a small --
but statistically significant 
part of My Memories.
 
I hope that brings you 
some comfort, sir.
 
PICARD:
It does.
Thank you, Data.
 
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Which is why I would like to ask you 
to do me a favour.
 
PICARD:
Of course. Anything.
 
DATA'S GHOST :
When you leave...
 
PICARD:
Leave?
(stammers)
I'm sorry, I-I don't understand.
I thought This was A Simulation.
 
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Yes, sir.
But you are not.
 
Before your brain functions ceased, 
Doctors Soong and Jurati, with help from Soji,
were able to scan, map and transfer
a complete neural image of your brain substrates.
 
PICARD:
Do I have to go?
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Yes, Captain.
 
 
PICARD:
Uh, you wanted me to do you a favor.
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Yes, sir.
 
When you leave, I would be profoundly grateful -- 
if you terminated My Consciousness.
 
PICARD:
You want to die?
 
Not exactly, sir.
I Want to Live, however briefly, 
knowing that My Life is finite.
 
Mortality gives meaning 
to Human Life, Captain.
 
Peace, Love, Friendship --
These are precious.
Because we know they cannot endure.
 
A Butterfly That Lives Forever...
Is really not a Butterfly, at all.
 
PICARD:
Very well.
I will do what you ask.
 
 
DATA'S GHOST :
Thank you, sir.
 
PICARD:
Goodbye, Commander.
 
 
DATA'S GHOST :
(echoing) : 
Goodbye, Captain.
 
(breathing deeply)