And The Time Full Of Dreams


When I found her, Seven seemed like a lifeless doll as she sat on the beach, leaning against a rock. She turned to look at me. Her beautiful face, framed by blonde hair tinted by the light of a setting sun, was a mask of despair. I don't remember crossing the distance between us, but suddenly I was standing next to her, my voice weak and scared.

"What happened, Seven?"

Her voice pained me as much as her expression; it was as if she was on the verge of crying. She turned her face away from me, nodding towards the sea.

"I watch the sunset, and all I seem to think about is the physics behind the sight. I am always alone, a ... 'cold monster'. I will never become human."

Her words made me shiver; I felt as if some invisible hand, cold as ice, was crushing my soul. Seeing her, hearing her words, feeling the cold wind coming from the sea on my skin, all this was too much. I found myself seated on the sand behind Seven, trying to wrap my arms around her and to pull her towards me. I felt I had to try to comfort her, to prove to her that she is not alone, and to make each of us feel the warmth of the other. But the moment I opened my mouth to speak, she stood up, escaping me, and the figure now towering over me was borg, covered by exoskeleton, her face pale and expression empty. There was no spark of life in her remaining eye as it turned to me, and she leaned down to me, ready to assimilate me, to make me into another mindless drone.

I woke up.


* * *


Lying on my back, breathing regularly, I tried to think about the dream. Or did I try not to think about it? I'm not sure. Then I remembered the words of the captain of a patrol ship we had met in the morning. She asked me why we had chosen a route that would took us past a comet she called the 'Moonstone of Poets', and warned us that even our advanced shields might have not protected us from its influence. She explained that it is not dangerous, so I forgot about it, but now her parting words, "..., and sleep well.", made sense. I made a note to contact her in the morning, and returned to the memories of my dream. Not a minute later, the door chimed.

Realizing I had let the computer know that I was awake, I got up, went to put on the robe, and tried to guess who this late visitor was."Enter. Lights."

What I saw when I walked through the bedroom door shocked me. Seven was sitting on the couch, prim as always, but it was obvious that she had been crying. Her voice, however, remained calm.

"Captain. Could you please find some time to discuss ... certain things?"

"Of course. What do you want to talk about?"

I walked to the couch and settled onto it in a cross-legged position, facing Seven, and she began.

"I have experienced a very disturbing dream. The experience was so intense that it interrupted my regeneration sequence. Doctor predicted such a possibility, and physically I am not damaged, but I have problems with the content of the dream. During regeneration, my brain and my implants indeed do process some data on a subconscious level, but I have never experienced a dream similar to the latest one. It was illogical; it was ... strange."

"Human dreams often are, especially nightmares. Want to talk about it?"

Seven hesitated for a moment, and when she continued her voice was full of sorrow. I felt a wave of sympathy rising in my chest when I realized that thanks to her perfect memory she must be reliving the dream again.

"Yes. My dream began when I walked into sickbay. I found you, lying on a biobed, and somehow I knew you were dying. Doctor was not present, and when I tried to call him, I was unable to speak. I tried to help you myself, but found I was unable to move. I watched the console, analyzed all the readings, but I found no cause of your illness. I managed, causing overstress damage to some implants, to raise my borg-enhanced hand, to grasp yours to let you know that I cared and that I tried everything possible to help you. When I touched you, you opened your eyes, looked at me, screamed 'Don't touch me!', and attempted to pull away from me. I released your hand and 6.4 seconds later you died. After 2.3 seconds my abnormal emotional state caused the interruption of regeneration sequence."

During her story I moved from my position to sit next to her, but when she had finished I no longer knew what to say. I took her left hand, covered in metallic mesh, and held it in my hands. When I finally spoke, my words were aimed as much at me as at her.

"It was just a bad dream. See, I'm not running away screaming. You're no cold monster."

"No 'cold monster'? Explain."

Her tone was confused, maybe a little hurt, and I realized I should've said something else.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. You're not the only one who was having bad dreams tonight."

She looked at me in surprise, and a hint of a smile crossed her face. It was a smile of someone trying to pull herself up from pits of inner hell, and her voice was that of one hurting soul trying to reach out to another.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No, but it's only fair to tell you. In my dream, I've found you sad, afraid you are some cold monster nobody cares for. I wanted to convince you that, even if nobody else does, I do care for you. I felt affectionate and I tried to hold you in my arms. You slipped from me, and suddenly you were a borg again. When you looked down at me and raised a hand, preparing to assimilate me, I woke up in terror."

She sat silent, lost in thought. My mind was in turmoil, I desperately tried to find something to say, when she blinked and turned to me. Her eyes scanned me as if I were a statue, and now I have no doubts she looked for the perfect way to make me lose my balance. Tugging at my right hand, and then continuing too quickly for me to react, she was smooth and efficient like some aikido master. When I finally managed to flail for support, it was already too late. The position we have ended in, with me pressed against Seven's back, was that of two disheveled women rather than two spoons, but I found my left hand wrapped around her waist.

"You wanted to hold me like this?"

"Yes. Well, maybe if you could move a little..."

When we moved into a more comfortable position she pulled my hand closer to her, and my mind became filled with her quiet words.

"I like it."

I remained in my position, and held her, hoping I wouldn't wake up again. I listened to the sound of her breathing, her fingers traced the outline of my hand, and my mind was empty as I savored the moment. I was tired and sleepy, but couldn't imagine letting go of her.

"Seven, can we stay like this? I will behave, I promise."

"Yes."

I remember Seven crying, I remember her trembling body, I have vague memories of whispering soothing words. I remember holding her so tightly my hands ached. I don't remember how long I remained in that dreamy state before I fell asleep.


* * *


I woke up in Seven's arms, feeling a little uncomfortable, but not willing to exchange this discomfort for anything. Seven's whispering voice then disturbed my private heaven, and I became aware of the situation.

"You are awake."

Seven's simple statement made my heart jump in my chest. I knew that some explanation was necessary, and I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to say it. The only thing I was capable of was the simple, short answer.

"Yes."

"I have been awake for some time, and I was able to analyze the problem we represent. I have analyzed the recent events, as well as our previous interactions and my own mental processes. My conclusion is that with a probability of 97% plus we are..."

I didn't like the sound of this; I tried to stop her, I tried to give her an explanation I hoped for, and so for a moment we were speaking over one another.

"Seven, we are not a problem. I'd say maybe we are..."

"... in love."


The End