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The morning had started out perfect. Usual routine followed exactly, no deviations, no unexpected events or surprises, until breakfast in the mess hall when Boimler arrived. The small booth where I always sat usually remained occupied by only me. Detecting his approach, a list of predicted greetings appeared automatically on my voice PADD, starting with the most likely I’d pick. I skimmed the list anyway. More suggestions made it take longer to respond, but a smaller list felt limiting.
Hello, Lieutenant Boimler.
Hi, Lieutenant Boimler, what’s up?
Oh, hey Lieutenant Boimler.
As the list went further, suggestions appeared calling him Brad or Bradward , but that felt too casual for someone I didn’t really know.
“Hello, Lieutenant Boimler,” my voice PADD spoke when I tapped the top suggestion. I looked up to find him standing by my booth, shifting his tray to balance it on one hand as he tapped the PADD resting next to his bowl of oatmeal.
“Hi, Ensign Ziggy,” his PADD spoke, in an accurate reproduction of his usual voice and tone, which I’d heard many times before from across the mess hall where he usually sat with his friends. He tapped a few more times, staring at his PADD the whole time, before looking at me and smiling as the PADD continued in his voice. “Can I sit with you today?”
My PADD sorted the suggested responses into a column of acceptances and rejections, which I ignored. I nodded instead, and he set his tray down across from me before sitting and spooning some oatmeal into his mouth with one hand and tapping at his PADD with the other.
“I noticed you usually eat alone. Let me know if I’m bothering you,” he said through his PADD.
I considered it for a moment as I scrolled through suggestions, compiling my response.
“Unexpected, but not bothered. Yet.”
I hoped it didn’t come across the wrong way. To my relief, Boimler smiled.
“You’re the only person in Starfleet I’ve seen who uses a voice PADD,” he said, his PADD allowing him to speak fluidly despite the large spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth. He tapped his screen a few more times. “Its been a while since I used one. I forgot how convenient it is while eating,” he tried to grin without opening his oat-filled mouth.
I returned an amused smile, watching him for a moment before turning back to my PADD. I typed a command for follow-up questions, before tapping the fourth suggestion and looking up to see his reaction as my words played.
“How come you’re using a voice PADD now? You usually speak.”
Boimler’s eyebrows raised slightly and he nodded, tapping his pad. Full sentences flowed, implying he’d planned some dialogue in advance.
“I used a voice PADD until I was about eleven, then I learned to speak, so I’m able to use both now. Most people here speak, so I speak back. You use a voice PADD, so I’m using a voice PADD.”
I shrugged. “That makes sense.”
We both took a moment to continue our breakfast. Boimler with his spoon and bowl of oatmeal, me with my fork and breakfast salad, an assortment of discrete clumps of food coming in six types, each type having a fixed color, shape, and flavor. All replicated at 45℃. I always ate all of one type before moving onto the next, starting with largest wavelength of visible light emitted and ending with shortest. Rainbow order.
We each scrolled through our personalized dialogue suggestions, navigating through different topics and themes, each thinking of what to say next as we chewed. I hovered a finger over my selected option, quickly glancing up to make sure he wasn’t about to say something at the same time. He was still scrolling. I tapped, he looked up.
“So, what’s it like? Speaking all the time?”
His purple eyebrows scrunched together, thinking, then bent down over his PADD, tapping furiously. His response took longer to begin, and I waited patiently as I moved on to the sweet herbal green circles.
“Very convenient, once I got the hang of it. People stopped acting weird when they’d meet me for the first time. I could respond to people faster. But its a lot of work,” he continued tapping as the first few sentences began to play. “You have to come up with all your own suggested responses from scratch. Then, you can’t even look at them all at once, you have to just remember them in your head while also trying to weigh the options. And even once you decide what to say, you might not even remember the whole thing exactly, and have to start making stuff up on the spot. It all happens so fast, and there’s so much room for error. There’s so much pressure to come up with full sentences and paragraphs with practically zero delay. I end up stuttering and stumbling over my words a lot.”
I nodded sympathetically. ‘There’s so much pressure’ carried a lot of weight, and I could see the baggage buried in his facial expression. We exchanged a look, conveying a deep sense of understanding and solidarity without the need for words. I held his gaze for a while, until he looked away, down at his oatmeal, taking another spoonful. I turned back to my PADD. Using two fingers, I merged two suggestions, adding an emphasis to one of the words.
“Is it worth it? Was it worth it?”
His head shot up and he look at me directly, a stern look in his eyes lasting several uncomfortable seconds before his expression softened, turning almost melancholy. His finger hesitated over his PADD several times as he composed a response.
“I always wanted to become a Starfleet captain.”
Oh.
Whatever difficulties he may have had, or still have, it was never really a choice for him. Not if he wanted to fulfil his dream. For better or worse, it was a line he crossed so he could get to where he needed to be. A line I was on the other side of. Suddenly, it felt like I was very far away, and I could sense his discomfort too.
I looked around the mess hall. Tables full of Starfleet officers of all divisions, various ranks, joined together in groups of varying sizes, talking and laughing with friends, meeting people, bantering, joking with one another. I turned back to look at Boimler. Could he see it too? I tried to meet his gaze, so I could point it out.
Our eyes made contact. I tilted my head subtly and flicked my gaze over across the span of the mess hall before looking back at him. He looked out across the large, crowded room, taking it in. It took a minute before our eyes met again.
I raised my eyebrows, asking him silently. Did you see it?
He concentrated, looking deep in thought, his fingers absentmindedly drumming the table. I waited, watching him closely. I reached my arm out across the table, placing my hand over his. He took a moment to process, then raised his eyebrows in realization. He’d crossed back over the line, and even if just for a moment, the distance between us had closed. Whatever it might have been like for him on this side before, at least for now it was safe, it was comfortable, it was easy, and there was company.
I smiled. You can come back to visit anytime.
He flipped his hand over underneath mine so that our palms touched, curling his fingers around my hand in a gentle squeeze. I will, thank you.
Suddenly, the proximity alert on my PADD triggered a new list of greeting options as someone in a red uniform quickly approached the table.
Hello Lieutenant Mariner.
Hi, Mariner, what’s up?
Oh, hi Mariner.
She arrived and started interacting before I could switch gears to fathom a new person and get back to using words. I recognized her as one of Boimler’s friends.
“Oooh, Boimy,” she said through a sly grin. “You didn’t tell me you had a new special friend, ” she jabbed his side with her elbow.
I half expected Boimler to yank his hand away from mine, but instead he slumped his shoulders and rolled his eyes without letting go. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, then closed his mouth, turning to his PADD with his free hand.
“Ziggy, this is my best friend, Beckett Mariner. Mariner, this is my new friend, Ziggy. Maybe try plotting a course before jumping to warp next time?”
“Okay, okay!” she said, raising an eyebrow at Boimler’s use of the voice PADD. “Nice to meet you, Ziggy. Don’t mind Boimler, he can be a little quirky and uptight and a real stickler for the rules and-”
“Mariner!” Boimler interrupted, his PADD’s volume raised.
“Wow. That thing is very accurate,” Mariner gestured to Boimler’s PADD. “Anyway, you didn’t let me finish! I was going to say, Bradward’s a great guy, a loyal friend, and one of the best officers on the Cerritos. I know, but just ask any of the senior staff, they’ll back me up. You’re in good hands with a friend like him.”
I scanned the refreshed suggestions.
“Nice to meet you too, Mariner.”
“So, uh,” Mariner gestured between me and Boimler. “How do I get my PADD to do that. ”
Boimler turned his attention to his PADD, but I was more practiced answering that question and got to it first.
“Make sure you have accessibility features updated so you’re running the latest software, and enable voice mode.”
“And it’ll sound like me?” she asked.
“If your voice pattern is saved,” I responded. “You can also choose a preset option or create a new voice, like I did.”
Boimler was tapping quickly at his PADD. “If you’ve never used a voice PADD before, it’ll take a while before you’re fluent. It takes skill, and besides, the AI needs time to learn your patterns.”
I nodded in agreement. “But don’t let being a beginner stop you from trying something new.”
“Uh huh, uh huh,” Mariner said, then darted away, sprinting back a few seconds later with a PADD, holding it close to her face as she focused on updating the settings. “Ah ha! Got it! And I can transfer over my voice pattern which was used in Crisis Point…”
She tapped the screen a few more times, then her face lit up as her voice came out of the PADD. “Hey guys, I just got my voice PADD working. Pretty cool right?”
Mariner bounced excitedly while Boimler groaned in annoyance. Did he want her to struggle more? Or take longer? I gave him a questioning look. He looked back at me apologetically, then carefully scooted over to make room for her in the booth while still holding my hand across the table.
Wondering if Boimler had simply wanted to have something special just between the two of us, I tried to think of how we could do that without being discouraging or rude to Mariner. It occurred to me that Boimler fell into the right demographic that there was a chance he was familiar with a certain niche subspace forum. I decided to test my theory, looking over and giving him ‘the face’. It was a long shot, but he responded by giving me ‘the response’. We both giggled excitedly and tapped at our voice PADDs in preparation. The familiar secret menu appeared, and I felt a nostalgic ache. It had been a while since I had a friend who also used a voice PADD, and it had probably been even longer for Boimler.
“Wait. What’s going on?” Mariner asked, before covering her mouth with her hand as if she’d broken a ‘no-speaking’ rule and switched focus back to her PADD. Boimler and I waited for her to find the right words.
“Are you two up to something?” she asked, then went right back to trying to find more words without waiting for a response, so we waited for her to finish. “How long have you two known each other, anyway?”
When she looked up from her PADD and tried to study our faces for clues, Boimler and I nodded at each other, and tapped our PADDs once, simultaneously. Our voices came out in unison.
“Only about ten minutes.”
Mariner’s eyes widened. “Uhh…” she said with her mouth, as she tapped away at her PADD. “How did you guys do that?” the words came after her final tap.
Boimler and I chuckled. He responded to her with a playful smirk. “Friends who speak do it, why can’t we?”
“Okay, but like,” Mariner spoke as she tapped, her PADD filling in the rest of her sentence. “That was too fast. Also, ten minutes?”
Boimler and I shared a playful look, then tapped at the secret menu again, our voice PADDS responding in unison. “We skipped the small talk and went straight to the friendship part.”
Mariner narrowed her eyes at Boimler as she lifted her PADD to her face, then set it back down, opting for mouth words instead.
“You must have skipped a lot more than that,” she said, with a lot more ease than when she used the voice PADD. She gestured to the center of our table where me and Boimler’s hands were still joined. “Never seen you move so quickly with someone before. Its good to see you making new friends.”
Mariner turned towards me. “Thanks for helping him out of his shell. Hey, we’re having a movie night later, feel free to join us, its my turn to pick so it’ll be a pretty good one.”
“Thanks, Mariner,” I replied. “The invite is appreciated.”
I usually didn’t go to non-mandatory activities with such short notice, but I’d at least ask Boimler about it later.
“Anyway,” Mariner spoke, standing up and getting out of the booth. “I gotta run, Ransom insists I show up to my shift way too early. He’s trying to get under my skin and I will not allow him the satisfaction of thinking he’s succeeding.”
Boimler raised an eyebrow at her, tapping his PADD. “But… he is succeeding.”
Mariner groaned. “Yes, but I can’t let him know that!”
She stomped off as Boimler and I said, “Bye, Mariner,” together.
“I gotta go too, actually,” Boimler said. “Not because anyone’s making me, I just want to get an early start and prove I’ve got what it takes to get promoted.”
I searched through ‘encouragement’ ideas for what to say. “Good thinking. Making new friends will also probably help with that. I know I’m just an Ensign, but I’ll put in a good word for you whenever I can. I’d love to have you as my captain one day.”
Boimler smiled gratefully and squeezed my hand before letting go and getting up, picking up his tray in both hands. He spoke with his mouth this time.
“That means a lot to me, Ziggy. You should come to movie night, if you want. I can, uh, arrange accommodations, to make it more accessible. Just… let me know. If you ever need anything.”
I nodded in appreciation. Boimler touched a hand to my shoulder briefly as he walked away.
I’ll visit again, soon.