BOOGEYMEN

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by Mel Gilden


  “We will,” Shubunkin said.

  “In two weeks?” Baldwin said and laughed.

  Picard said, “Despite your assurances, Lieutenant Shubunkin, you and Professor Baldwin will both be covered by round-the-clock security, starting now.” He nodded at Worf, who nodded back.

  “Two weeks,” Baldwin said again and shook his head.

  Shubunkin attempted to look unassailable.

  That evening at dinner, Wesley went over the day in his mind. It had been a great day. He’d learned about the Borders scale from Lieutenant Shubunkin, Data had helped him write the Boogeyman program, and Geordi had guided him through the installation process. Wesley could almost feel the Boogeymen lying in wait inside the holodeck computer. He chuckled evilly.

  “What’s that?” Dr. Crusher said.

  “Nothing, Mom,” said Wesley, embarrassed.

  “You’re very quiet. Except for the melodramatic grunting.”

  “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

  “You’re always just thinking. About what in particular this time?”

  “It’s kind of personal.”

  “I’m your mother.”

  Dr. Crusher looked at him over her salad with such intensity that Wesley had to smile. She was his mother and a good doctor, but no commander. Would she understand his preoccupation with leadership ability? Hoping for the best, he said, “I’ve been using some Starfleet training programs on the holodeck,” and went on from there. It seemed pointless to hide anything from her anyway. As a mom, Beverly Crusher could sometimes sense things that escaped even Counselor Troi.

  Wesley was pleased to see how seriously his mother took his problems. When Wesley finished, she nodded, her lips pursed, a faraway look in her eyes. She said, “I’ll bet you’d learn a lot more if somebody was there when you made a mistake.”

  “I’ve studied the books. You can’t get the stuff I want to learn out of books.”

  “Not a book mistake. An experience mistake.” Dr. Crusher became excited by her own idea. “I’ll bet Captain Picard would join you on the holodeck.”

  “The captain’s awfully busy,” Wesley said, visions of Picard’s disapproving expression dancing in his head.

  “Nonsense,” Dr. Crusher said. “A robot freighter could do the run between here and Memory Alpha.”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “You don’t want me to speak with him?”

  This entire line of discussion made Wesley very nervous. He knew the captain was not comfortable around children, and for all that the captain had made him a real ensign instead of just an acting one, Wesley knew that Picard still considered him a child. A large child. A smart and dependable child. But a child nonetheless. Wesley said, “Talk to him if you want to. Just don’t tell him it was my idea.”

  “Of course not,” Dr. Crusher said. “I want the credit.”

  For the rest of the meal, Wesley managed to direct the conversation away from his activities on the holodeck.

  The next day as Wesley’s watch on the bridge came to an end, the captain appeared at the ready room door and beckoned him inside. When the captain was settled behind his desk, he said, “Dr. Crusher tells me that you’ve been running the Starfleet training programs on the holodeck.”

  Wesley suddenly felt icy. There were no regulations against what he was doing. He’d checked. Still, he might have missed something. “Yes, sir.”

  “Have you run the Kobayashi Maru scenario?”

  “No, sir.” Wesley had never heard of it.

  “It’s quite a pretty problem, really. Starfleet used to run it with the Klingons. The most recent versions use Romulans or Ferengi, sometimes both together. Shall we give it a try?” Picard seemed enthusiastic, as if this would be as big an adventure for him as for Wesley.

  “Sure. I mean, yes, sir.” Somehow they had gone from an abstract discussion of Wesley’s use of the holodeck to the very practical consideration of whether Captain Picard would join him. How did you say no to the captain? Did Wesley even want to try?

  Wesley followed Captain Picard through the bridge and into the turbolift. Data slid in with them just before the doors closed.

  “Just coming off watch, Mr. Data?” Picard said.

  Wesley suddenly knew what was coming. Why not? he thought. Why not invite the whole damn bridge crew?

  “Yes, sir,” said Data.

  “If you have nothing special planned, perhaps you would care to join Ensign Crusher and me on the holodeck. We’re going to run the Kobayashi Maru scenario.” Picard actually sounded as if he was looking forward to observing Wesley’s performance. But maybe he wasn’t just interested in Wesley. Maybe the captain was reliving his time at the Academy.

  “Indeed I would, sir. I would like very much to see Ensign Crusher’s new aliens in action.”

  “New aliens?” asked the captain.

  Wesley said, “Yes, sir. Boogeymen. Lieutenant Shubunkin, Data, and Lieutenant Commander La Forge helped me work them out.”

  “Using the Borders scale, no doubt.”

  “Yes, sir,” Data said.

  Wesley shook his head. Had everybody heard of the Borders scale but him?

  Picard looked around, realized they weren’t moving, and said, “Deck eleven.”

  Wesley brought up the bridge of the Enterprise on the holodeck, asked for the Kobayashi Maru training scenario with the Boogeyman modifications. Wesley was a little nervous about taking the center seat with the captain there, but Picard insisted. “No point in doing this at all if I act as captain,” he said. He took the conn while Data sat at Ops. On the main screen a normal-looking star field came toward them at warp speed.

  Wesley tried to get comfortable in the command chair. He didn’t know what the Kobayashi Maru was, but it didn’t seem so bad so far.

  Picard leaned toward Data and said, “You know, in the old days, Starfleet actually had to build mock starship bridges in order to run their training scenarios.”

  “Interesting,” said Data. With sudden seriousness, he said, “Transmission coming in.”

  “On audio,” Wesley said.

  Picard smiled at him and turned to his control board.

  A broken signal came in. Most of it was garbled or obscured by static. “Mayday, Mayday,” it said. “This is the freighter, Kobayashi Maru. All systems failing. Help desperately needed. Any ship within hailing distance, please help.”

  “Location of Kobayashi Maru?” Wesley said.

  Data scanned his board and said, “One two three seven mark four. The Romulan Neutral Zone.”

  “Oops,” said Wesley, a little too loudly. Picard glanced at him appraisingly. “Uh,” said Wesley, “tactical.’’

  The freighter’s distress message continued to come in while Wesley studied the display now on the main screen. Enterprise was the blue flashing light on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone. Just the other side of the open fence that represented the Neutral Zone, the Kobayashi Maru was represented by an amber pulse. No Romulan vessels were on the screen, but they wouldn’t show up if they were cloaked.

  “Data?” Wesley said.

  “It could be a trick to lure us into the Neutral Zone. If no distressed freighter exists, the Federation would look very bad.”

  Wesley bit a knuckle and said, “And what if the

  Mayday is genuine? Mr. Picard, lay in a course for the freighter.”

  “Captain,” Picard said, “the Romulans will interpret our incursion into the Neutral Zone as a hostile act.”

  “I am aware of that, Mr. Picard. Lay in the course.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  On the tactical display, the proposed course of the Enterprise was an elegant black curve from its present position to that of the Kobayashi Maru.

  Wesley was feeling a little more comfortable with command. Everybody was cooperating. The power he felt seemed to be rising from the center seat itself. “Execute course,” he said.

  “Aye.”

  On the tactical di
splay, the blue pulse of Enterprise crossed through the open mesh of the Neutral Zone limit. A few seconds later the amber light went out and the distress signal stopped in mid-word. Wesley knew he’d been had.

  “Captain,” said Data. “Boogeyman war spiders uncloaking now.”

  “On visual.”

  The tactical display was replaced by two large black ships. Each had a central button—obviously living and control quarters—from which descended three legs. At the end of each leg was a small warp engine. The war spiders were bearing down on the Enterprise at a high rate of speed.

  Wesley cried, “Mr. Data, red alert. Get us out of here, Mr. Picard.”

  The red alert Klaxon began.

  “Impossible, Captain. View aft.” Behind the Enterprise were two more war spiders. The ship shuddered.

  “View forward,” Data said, and the picture changed just in time for them to see a photon torpedo, or something like it, fired from one of the war spiders.

  “Damage report.”

  “Primary shield breached,” Data said. “Hull damage in sections seventeen through twenty-four and thirty-six through forty. Casualties heavy.”

  Sweating now, Wesley looked at the back of Picard’s neck. What would he do in these circumstances? Would Picard have allowed himself to get into a situation like this? “Recommendations,” he said. This was supposed to be a training mission, of course. It wasn’t real. Let him be trained.

  “At this point, Captain—” Picard said.

  He was interrupted by the hiss of an alien transporter beam. Wesley watched with morbid fascination as two beings took form on the bridge. They were the most frightening things he’d ever seen. Each of the Boogeymen was short, no taller than a human eight-year-old, and each wore a long inverted-bowl-shaped coat that fell from a tight collar, making them look almost as wide as they were tall. Their heads were round and covered with wild black hair and beards. They had stubby horns and wide snaggly teeth.

  One of the Boogeymen slid forward on hidden feet, brandishing something that looked like a lump of wood but was probably a weapon. “Surrender,” the Boogeyman said in a hideous, rasping parody of a human voice. “Or all will die.”

  “Freeze program,” Wesley said.

  The Boogeymen froze. The telltale at the bottom of the main viewscreen stopped halfway across. The incoming damage control reports and the red alert Klaxon halted.

  Data and Picard turned to look at Wesley with inquisitive expressions.

  Wesley said, “What did I do wrong?”

  Picard shook his head. “You did nothing wrong. No one has ever triumphed over the Kobayashi Maru scenario.”

  Data said, “Though legend has it that about eighty years ago, certain cadets fought it to a standstill.”

  “Legend,” Picard said scornfully. “Academy scuttlebutt. The Kobayashi Maru is a no-win scenario—a test of character. Mr. Crusher did admirably. He did the only thing a moral captain could do. The fact that he was overwhelmed is unimportant.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Would you care to try another scenario?” Picard asked.

  To him, Picard sounded hopeful, but Wesley’d had quite enough testing of his abilities for one day. Despite the captain’s kind words, Wesley needed some time to accept the fact that he wasn’t an oaf for having allowed the Kobayashi Maru to beat him.

  Picard nodded and Wesley said, “Save program and discontinue.”

  Wesley should have heard a tweek from the computer, and the holodeck should have gone blank. Instead, everything but the Boogeymen disappeared. Wesley and Data joined the captain. Picard had obviously taken command again, and Wesley was glad to give it to him. They circled the Boogeymen, who now had the appearance of really fine wax figures.

  “Theories, Mr. Data?” Picard said.

  Data shook his head. “I would have thought a malfunction on this scale would have prevented the use of the holodeck at all. Computer, explain continued existence of Boogeymen.”

  “Boogeymen have been saved in memory. Program has been discontinued.”

  “This is very odd,” Picard said. “I’m sorry to do this, Mr. Crusher, but I’m certain Data can reconstruct your Boogeyman program if that seems wise. Computer, erase Boogeyman program.”

  “Erasing,” the computer said.

  “They’re still there,” Wesley said.

  “Yes,” said Picard. “Computer, exit.”

  To Wesley’s relief, the doorway in the holodeck wall opened. Picard led the way back into the corridors of the real Enterprise. The holodeck doors closed behind them.

  Wesley had not taken ten steps when three Boogeymen leapt from a side corridor and began to menace them with hand weapons.

  Chapter Four

  THE BOOGEYMEN pocketed their weapons and rushed Picard, Data, and Wesley. One of the Boogeymen got his knobby hands on Wesley, who did his best not to scream. The Boogeyman smelled of all things that were putrid and disgusting, and his skin felt the way a slug looked.

  As Wesley wrangled with the Boogeyman, who was certainly much stronger than he appeared, he heard Picard call for Security. Instead of the comforting voice of Mr. Worf, Wesley heard no response at all. With the help of Data, he managed to break free from the Boogeyman. The captain and the two of them ran for a turbolift with the Boogeymen close behind. The turbolift doors closed in the faces of the Boogeymen, and Picard cried, “Bridge.”

  Picard and Wesley stood there breathing hard. Unperturbed but wildly interested, Data said, “That was most unusual.”

  Picard said, “It was more than unusual, Mr. Data. it was impossible. Unless Mr. Crusher is hiding a breakthrough from us, it is not possible for holodeck constructs to exist outside the holodeck.”

  Embarrassed and horrified by his Boogeymen, Wesley said, “No breakthroughs, sir.”

  “You look unwell,” Data said.

  “I’ll be fine. But I think this is all my fault.”

  “Turbolift,” Picard called out, “temporary halt.”

  The turbolift stopped, but its mechanism continued to hum around them.

  Data said, “I cannot allow you to take full responsibility, Wesley. After all, I used the Borders scale to design the Boogeymen.”

  “Sure. To my specifications.”

  Picard said, “Gentlemen, please. At the moment, laying blame is not as important as finding a solution to our problem. Empirical observation forces us to make certain assumptions. Either we must admit the possibility of what we know to be impossible, or—”

  “Or,” Data said, “we must assume we are still on the holodeck.”

  “But we left the holodeck,” Wesley said. The captain was right about not having time for recriminations, but that did not prevent Wesley from feeling guilty. If they ever got out of this, he’d have to find some way to apologize and, more important, make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

  Considering, Data said, “We left a holodeck simulation of the bridge and entered an area that looked like a ship’s corridor. Is it not possible that one is as unreal as the other?”

  They contemplated that possibility for a few minutes. Wesley was glad to be on the turbolift. It gave him a certain amount of security, even if it was as fake as everything else apparently was.

  “Your hypothesis is easily tested,” Picard finally said. He called out, “Arch.”

  Before them an arch appeared. It looked like a slice of corridor. Using it, they could adjust the holodeck computer without leaving the holodeck. Picard said, “If you would be so kind, Mr. Data,” and gestured toward the touch pad.

  Data walked under the arch and said, “Computer.” There was the familiar auditory twinkle and Data continued, “Tell me the present locations of Captain Picard, Ensign Crusher, and Commander Data.”

  The computer said, “They are in turbolift seven between decks three and four.”

  Picard looked unhappy, which was how Wesley supposed he himself looked. Picard said, “Computer. Exit holodeck.”

  Holo
deck doors appeared in the turbolift wall. The three men stared at them skeptically.

  Wesley said, “I guess we can’t trust the computer.”

  “We can trust only ourselves,” Picard said. Neither he nor Wesley stepped toward the exit. Beyond it beckoned a normal-looking corridor. It seemed to be empty.

  “Shall we go?” Data said.

  Picard said, “There is no guarantee that the corridor before us is any more real than the one from which we just escaped.”

  “And more Boogeymen could be waiting around the corner.”

  Data frowned. He said, “Our choice is clear. We can either stay here for the test of our lives, or we can search for a solution to our problem.”

  “Right you are, Mr. Data.” Picard strode forward, Wesley and Data a few feet behind him. Suddenly three Boogeymen leapt out at the captain. He managed to twist away from them, and they went after Wesley and Data.

  As he fought, Wesley felt himself losing control of his emotions. He cried with fear and frustration. Data stunned one of the Boogeymen with a roundhouse punch, and Picard used a two-handed fist to knock away the one harassing Wesley. Someone was pulling Wesley along, and then they were back inside a turbolift. He leaned against a wall, shaking.

  “Emergency hold between decks three and four,” Picard said. The turbolift began to move, but stopped a short time later.

  “Are you all right, Mr. Crusher?” Picard said.

  Wesley tried to stand up straight. He smiled and blinked and said, “I guess I shouldn’t have designed them to resemble creatures I had nightmares about when I was a little kid.”

  Picard looked surprised, then gave Wesley an understanding smile and said, “You’re to be commended for wanting to meet your ancient fears head on.” He shrugged. “Though perhaps these were not the best circumstances for it.” Picard seemed uncomfortable. Was it because of the situation or because of Wesley’s brief breakdown? He stood up straighter and said, “I’m fine now, sir.”

 

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