SD241906.29 ||"Quiet Time"

Posted on 09 Jul 2019 @ 5:41pm by

603 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Thought & Memory
Location: Holodeck 1, Deck 11

"11 Bagatelles, Opus 119, Number 9 in A Minor," Remy said. Dressed in a black midriff top with tights and a voluminous robe done in a geometric pattern of blues and greens, the Odin's new Chief Science officer sat cross-legged on a wide, turquoise brocade pillow in front of a low, black lacquered table.

"Correct," the computer responded. "Composer?"

"Beethoven," she answered, ceramic spoon paused mid-way between her mouth and the bowl in front of her.

"Correct," the computer responded.

Remy nodded, already dismissing the music from the foreground of her thought, as she studied the wall of mathematical equations in front of her. The room was relentlessly white and circular. She could write on any surface, outline and shift the pieces around, make corrections as needed and when she was satisfied, the work would be saved to whatever file she named. A gift from the same designer who had decided on the circular platform ringed by fat white candles. She would not be able to make corrections until the bowl was emptied and that too was a gift from the designer.

She ate without paying much attention at all to the bowl of miso soup with its artful selection of carrot and green onion slivers. Her dark brown gaze moved from equation to equation, following the logic, searching for mistakes. Every so often, she would stop and say, "Next" and then go back to her review.

The Odin had been Starfleet's idea though there had been a few discussions that skirted the edge of outright confrontations when the proposal was first broached. She was not particularly needed on ship like this and her talents would be better suited to research or, failing that, a university. Both had their appeals but in the end, she had been given the final decision. Do what was expected and try something completely different. She took the position with the understanding that she would continue to accept projects where she felt she could contribute. Pretty much everyone expected she would have plenty of time to do so.

She finished the soup, set the bowl on the table, and stood, using the muscles in her thighs to do so. "Symphony Number 7 in E Minor," she said.

"Correct," the computer responded. "Composer?"

"Mahler," she said and stepped forward. The candles were holographic of course and set so that she could walk through them without injury which she did as she approached the board, fishing a pen out of the pocket of her robe. The sleeves of the robe were bell-shaped and fell back as she extended her left hand, half covered by the form-fitting top. "

"Correct," the computer responded.

"Next," Remy said and began to write, the equations flowing from her mind were elegant and spoke of a highly intelligent, creative mind. As she wrote, the computer saved the work and ensured that more room was available to the left of where she was. By the time, white room turned crimson, all of the walls were filled and she stepped back.

"Piano Sonata Number 16 in C, K.545 "Sonata Facile," she said as she put the pen back in her pocket.

"Correct," the computer responded. "Composer?"

"Mozart," she said in response. She stood still and waited for the program to end as it always did.

"Correct," the computer responded and then in a different voice entirely, added, "Sweet dreams, cher."

Remy smiled, a small, private kind of smile that she would never share, as the program shut down. She padded barefoot across the black and yellow graphed floor to the exit and said, just before the doors opened, "I will always miss you."

 

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