Persistence of Vision, pt 2

Posted on Tue Dec 25th, 2012 @ 3:16pm by Lieutenant Three of Seven

Mission: Funzone

Do machines dream of electric sheep?

In the case of the Borg, or at least this particular Borg, the answer took the form of a rather intimidating library, not unlike what one might expect to find at the old institutes of learning; such as Cambridge or Yale. Paper tomes, in dusty leather bound volumes, lining shelves that were two stories tall, amid which the small Ocampa boy drifted amid the aisles.

During the day, Three catalogued any number of topics, subjects, or concepts which he would later explore during regeneration cycles; carefully reviewing indexes, the pertinent research, and perhaps exploring relevant arts on the matter.

Take, for example, the discussion with Lieutenant Sngarlassanarn, which had demonstrated Three's lack of knowledge on the subject matter of cursing. Finger brushing across the spines of several volumes of linguistics devoted to several major language families, Three finally withdrew one containing an analysis of the works of Twentieth Century authors, such as the collected works of Jacquelyn Suzanne and the novels of Harold Robinson. Flipping through the pages, the boy perused the book as he stepped out between aisles...

"You are the lowest form of life on Earth!"

Ducking between two recruits in the United States Marines, the drone continued to stick his nose in the book as he walked through the recreation of a scene from a two-dimensional art film known as 'Full Metal Jacket,' a recommended reference for the application of curses to military environments. An actor named R. Lee Ermey was red-faced and shouting, "You are not even human fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized, grab-ass, pieces of amphibian shit!"

Turning down the next aisle, the small Ocampa closed the book and began searching for the next topic of research. Pulling a book off the shelf revealed another Terran actor, in a recreation of another scene relevant to the development and use of cursing in contemporary Terran language.

"If I were the man I was five years ago, I'd take a flamethrower to this place! 'Out of order?' Who the hell do you think you're talkin' to?"

The two books cradled in his arms, the boy stepped out into the library as he crossed to the games section. Jack, whom Three had later learned was more properly identified as Lieutenant Mantell, had introduced him to a Ktarian form of entertainment known as Kadis-Kot. A board game.

Lifting a book off the shelf, Three paused to read a chapter amid the lecture of Professor Jularti, in a recorded session of a course in Ktarian Culture in Intergalactic Mediums. "It was not until 2269 that the first interstellar tournaments of Kadis-Kot were organized, with Altair IV hosting the first such tournament style play outside of the Ktarian system in 2283, as popularity of the game began to spread throughout the Federation..."

A sound perked the young Ocampa's head up, something that he hadn't expected to hear.

A child, laughing.

As he peered across the library, a small shadow ducked around a bookshelf. Which was another thing that was out of place. And nothing should have ever been out of place here. This was Three's private sanctuary. The furthest recesses of his mind. The place where dreams began, where he was himself. Not the Borg. Not Starfleet. Not a machine.

Closing the book, Three set his collection of books down and rose to follow after where he had seen the shadow duck off to. Peering around the bookshelf, the boy was confronted by a most confusing sight.

It was an Ocampa child.

Giggling, the nymph-like boy ducked off into the library, as though it were a game. Silently, Three took the bait and gave pursuit, weaving around a shelf in a vain effort at catching up with the child... who was now not to be found.

A second bit of laughter caught the boy's attention, spinning him around to see another child - an Ocampa girl - on the second level of the labyrinthine library. As he started toward the stairs, there was a third child.

Then a fourth, behind him.

Every turn, one would duck out of sight and another would appear. Six in all, after which it was the same ones reappearing again and again, in a game of tag that took Three through the shelves and aisles...

Until there he was, in the Children's section. Bright colors and pretty stories brought to life for the sake of inspiring imagination.

She was seated at the table toward the center of the room. A woman, of sorts, if you were to consider her as such. A book of fables in her hand, as she read to the children, now seated in a circle around her.

The one who was many.