"I don't know what it is about those machines that I find so refreshing. We ordinary people do not often enjoy such transportation."
        "It's the bio-filters," the captain explained. "In the old days, visitors from the surface would have to be quarantined. We do not advertise this, but the transporter does not deliver you exactly as it found you. It takes you apart on one end, then filters out any potentially dangerous toxins, viruses and bacteria, and re-assembles you in better health than when you started."
        "I am sure I would be less ignorant if I had stayed in Starfleet a few more semesters, but I have often wondered that the early transporter work did not explore the possibilities of simply sending the necessary information-the blueprints, you might say-of the person one wished to transport.  Isn't it true, Captain, that it requires a thousand times more energy to transport a physical object than is needed to simply scan the object, transmit the "blueprints" and then build a perfect copy on the other end?"
         "Indeed, we do it all the time."
         An uneasy sensation ran through the Captain as he recalled earnest discussions from twelve thousand nights ago. How many times had this priest lured him into spiritual discussions by starting with the everyday objects of the Captain's interest? How many times had he explained to John Paul how mankind had outgrown medieval ideas like God and life after death? Hasn't experience taught us we have no eternal soul; a soul that departs this body at the end of life? We are no more than tiny particles and a lot of empty space; molecules arranged just so by natural selection. We have known this for hundreds of years.
         The Captain stopped abruptly at an archway blocked by heavy  interlocking bulkheads.  He commanded: "Computer. Run program Academy Stardate 11318.8."
         The massive bulkhead parted swiftly and the Captain motioned for the Pope to go in first. "Ah Captain, the Commons," John Paul said with an appreciative smile. He turned around inside the large room. The captain watched the Pope's face register with remembrance: the cadet Commons at the Academy. The corners were dark and quiet, yet overhead skylights created numerous pools of sunlight that left the central area bright and welcoming. A familiar odor seemed to drift from the snack bar. Holodeck characters, talking animatedly at several tables, completed what felt like a waking dream.

 

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