“Pssst!”
Jake stopped dead halfway through the crossover. No one was in sight, but he suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable. Anyone could be lurking in the empty passageway. The station teemed with rowdy, merchant crewmen, aliens with mysterious codes of conduct, Klingons and Cardassians, and Bajoran political activists. Deep Space Nine could be a dangerous place for the unwary.
“Psssst!”
“Who’s there?” Jake backed up a step.
A Ferengi hand beckoned him from the open hatch at the end of the corridor. “Jake! Over here. It’s me. Bokat.”
Annoyed, Jake walked forward. “What is it, Bokat?”
The Ferengi grinned and rubbed his hands together. “I’ve got a proposition for you, Jake. A once-in-a-lifetime offer.”
“Uh-huh. Like what?” Jake waited, intrigued and suspicious.
“A chance to try the ultimate game, the Zhodran Crystal Quest. Not a game for the average player, mind you. Oh, no.” Bokat lowered his voice. “A game only the best dare attempt!”
“Why me?” Curiosity overcame Jake’s reservations.
“Your skill is exceptional. I simply must give you an opportunity to try the impossible.”
“Sorry, Bokat. I can’t.”
“But it’s free!” The Ferengi’s eyes widened in near-panic.
“Free?” Jake started, suddenly nervous. “How come?”
Bokat blinked, his mind racing. “As a reward, my boy. Uh, in keeping with the fifty-first Rule of Acquisition.”
“Which is?”
“Reward anyone who adds to your profits so they will continue to do so.” Bokat smiled and draped his arm over Jake’s shoulders. “Do you have any idea how many adults are coming into the Games Bazaar to try and top your scores?”
Jake shrugged. “No.”
“A lot. They can’t transfer their credits fast enough. So I must repay you. It’s only right.”
Jake scowled, remembering the hard look Bokat had given him that morning. There was no right or wrong in Ferengi culture—only profit and loss—and they were always looking for a sucker.
“Look, I appreciate the offer, but I can’t right now. I’ve really gotta go.” Jake tried to edge past the Ferengi, but Bokat’s arm whipped out to block his way.
“Yes, of course.” Bokat’s calculating frown sent a shiver up Jake’s spine. “It’s an open invitation. Anytime. However”—Bokat leaned forward, pressing Jake against the bulkhead—“this is our secret. No one else must know. Understand?”
Jake looked into narrowed, Ferengi eyes and nodded quickly. “No. I won’t say anything. Promise.”
“Such an intelligent young person. For a human. I can’t have people thinking I’m an easy touch. It would ruin my reputation.” Bokat turned to leave, then looked back with a sly grin. “No one has ever won the Zhodran Crystal Quest, Jake.”
Alone again, Jake sagged with relief. The thought of playing and beating a game no one else had won was an irresistible challenge … except for Bokat. Somehow, the Ferengi would profit if Jake played the Zhodran Crystal Quest and won.
On the other hand, he had nothing to lose by trying—except game privileges for the rest of his life, if he didn’t get the history paper handed in soon.
Jake hurried toward home with a new sense of purpose. Most of his research was done. All he had to do was organize his notes and write the paper. Once the assignment was finished, his father would let him play again, and Bokat had said he could try the impossible game anytime.
Jake raced through the turbolift doors. He had overslept after staying up late working on the paper, and he still wasn’t done! Bokat’s game, the Zhodran Crystal Quest, was to blame. He couldn’t help but wonder why it was so difficult. He’d probably never find out. Bokat could not be trusted, and the Crusades report would take another two days to complete—longer if he couldn’t keep his mind on the project.
A maintenance-access hatch by the Promenade airlock had been left open. Jake skidded to a halt. Deep Space Nine had been in ruins when Bajor and Starfleet had taken possession after the Cardassians evacuated. Miles O’Brien, Keiko’s husband and chief of operations, had worked hard to get all systems functioning up to Federation standards. Leaving a hatch ajar was not serious negligence, but O’Brien was a stickler for such details. Jake decided to close it and save someone from a loud O’Brien lecture.
As he reached to hit the control panel, Jake inhaled sharply. Tena Lin was lying unconscious inside the tube with severe burns on her face and arms.
CHAPTER 3
Stunned, Jake hesitated only a second. Yelling for Dr. Bashir, he plunged into the Promenade and ran toward the Infirmary. Odo intercepted him.
“What’s all the racket about, Mr. Sisko?”
“It’s Tena Lin.” Jake grabbed Odo’s sleeve and pulled him toward the crossover bridge. “She’s been hurt. Really bad.”
“Where?” Young Julian Bashir, the Federation doctor on DS9, dashed across the deck to join them, carrying a medikit.
“In here.” Jake shoved Dr. Bashir into the airlock. Odo stayed behind to discourage a crowd of curious onlookers.
Hanging back as the doctor scanned Lin’s still body, Jake wondered why she had been poking around in a maintenance tube. He studied the interior with a mounting sense of disquiet. The tube was crammed with wires and pipes, relays and junctions, but he didn’t see any signs of fire or broken electrical conduits. The burns could not have happened at this location. She must have dragged herself here after being hurt somewhere else in the tube.
Odo reached the same conclusions within seconds of arriving on the scene. “Did you see anything, Jake? Hear anyone?”
“No, nothing … except the open hatch.”
“We’d better get her to the Infirmary,” Dr’ Bashir said gravely. “I can take care of the burns easily enough, but I’m worried about the coma. She’s not responding to any stimulants.”
Dr. Bashir lifted the frail girl, and Odo paused to look pointedly at Jake before following him to the Infirmary. “You might as well go on to school. There’s nothing more you can do for Tena Lin now. I may want to talk to you later, though.”
Disturbed by the accident, Jake couldn’t concentrate in class. Tena Lin’s parents had worked as cargo handlers during the Cardassian occupation and had stayed when the Federation took over. Any kid who grew up in space, whether on a starship or a space station, quickly learned the ins and outs of living in a technological environment. Too many mistakes were potentially deadly. Accidents happened, but Lin was too smart to have done anything as dumb as fooling around with faulty power equipment. She would have reported a malfunction immediately, even if it meant getting into trouble for playing in a restricted area.
As the day wore on, Jake’s patience wore out. By the time Keiko let everyone go, he was certain Lin had met with foul play. His suspicions were supported when he rushed into the Infirmary and overheard a conversation between Odo and Dr. Bashir.
“I spoke to her parents,” Dr. Bashir said. “Lin was fine when they left for work this morning. That was two hours before Jake discovered her, and no one saw her during that time.”
A frown wrinkle ruptured on Odo’s smooth forehead. The shapeshifter occasionally tried to refine his facial expressions, often with comical results. “Chief O’Brien hasn’t found any broken power lines or short circuits in that maintenance tube or the connecting conduits, either. Could she have gotten into that hatch from another location by herself?”
“With such severe burns? Possibly, but not very likely.”
“Then someone put her there!” Odo’s beady eyes glittered.
Dr. Bashir was appalled. “She’s just a child! Why would anyone want to hurt—” He stopped speaking when he noticed Jake standing in the entrance. “Jake. Here to see your friend?”
“Yes, if it’s all right. Is she any better?”
“I’m afraid not.” Dr. Bashir walked with him to the side of Lin’s biobed. “Do you know her well?�
��
“Pretty well.” Jake looked at Lin’s pale face. The burns wire healed, but she was still unconscious. The lights on the display above the biobed blinked and beeped, monitoring her condition. Jake wished there was something he could do to help.
“Emergency! Emergency!” A harsh, bass voice boomed from the Promenade. “Out of my way, you miserable deck-rat!”
Odo, Dr. Bashir, and Jake turned as a tall, muscular Selay kicked an unsuspecting Nork away from the Infirmary door. The blue-furred, six-legged creature squealed and scurried up the wall. Chief O’Brien stopped to gently coax the alien down, while the giant adult cobra rushed inside carrying a limp Selay child.
“Doctor! My son—I think he’s dying!”
Rotor! Jake gasped.
“Put him over here.” Dr. Bashir hurried to the empty biobed beside Tena Lin and reached for a tricorder. “And you are?”
“Captain Gaynor of the Selay merchant vessel Erlan.”
“What happened to him?” Dr. Bashir asked, frowning as he scanned the unconscious reptilian boy.
“We’re not sure, Julian,” Chief O’Brien said. “I found him at the bottom of an unused turboshaft near Cargo Bay Six.”
“Um-hmm.” Dr. Bashir set the tricorder aside.
“Is he going to be all right?” Gaynor asked anxiously.
“He’s got a fractured leg. I can have that fixed in no time, but—” Dr. Bashir paused thoughtfully. “Had he been gone long?”
Gaynor shrugged. “An hour. No more than two. Why?”
“Because he’s in a coma, and there’s no medical reason for it—none that I can find anyway.” Stumped, Dr. Bashir shook his head. “Shock from the fall, maybe….”
As Jake listened, fear tightened his stomach. Dr. Bashir had graduated at the top of his Starfleet Academy medical class. He was a great doctor. But he couldn’t cure the mysterious comas if he didn’t know what had caused them.
Odo moved closer, his interest aroused. “Is the boy’s coma similar to the one affecting the Bajoran girl, Doctor?”
“Quite similar actually.” Dr. Bashir paused thoughtfully. “They’re both in comas for no discernible reason.”
“What Bajoran girl?” Gaynor demanded.
Odo ignored the question and asked one of his own. “Do you have any enemies on Deep Space Nine, Captain?”
“Are there Anticans on this station?” Gaynor bellowed with an ominous rattling sound. “I don’t smell them!”
“Not that I know of,” O’Brien answered, suppressing a grin.
If the circumstances hadn’t been so serious, Jake would have laughed, too. He’d heard O’Brien’s famous story, “The Delegate Dinner.” The Enterprise had once transported Selay and Antican delegations to the neutral planet Parliament. Both species had applied for membership in the Federation, and it was hoped they would settle a long-standing dispute. Both groups were temporarily denied membership due to continuing hostilities. The Anticans had killed and eaten two members of the Selay party.
“Perhaps that obnoxious Ferengi, Nog, had something to do with my son’s accident,” Gaynor hissed menacingly.
“Nog likes Rotor!” Jake quickly rose to Nog’s defense.
“I did see the two of them together yesterday,” Odo observed. “However, although Nog may be too rambunctious and mischievous for his own good and my peace of mind, he’s not malicious or violent.”
Jake glanced at Odo, eyebrows raised. The chief of security followed a rigid personal code of justice. Still, it seemed strange to have him take Nog’s side.
“Nog wasn’t involved,” Dr. Bashir said. “He’s been busing tables for Quark all day.” He walked away from the biobed, then back again. “It could be a virus—something so small or alien the sensors can’t detect it. Or a bacteria. Hard to say.”
“I rather doubt that, Doctor.” O’Brien had installed Federation biodetectors in all the docking airlocks. “It would have to be subatomic to elude the biosensors.”
“I’m going to quarantine both of them anyway. As a precaution,” Dr. Bashir added quickly. “If it is a virus, it’s not transmitted by air or we’d have more cases.” Shooing everyone away from the immediate area, Bashir confined the two children in personal containment fields.
“That’s one theory,” Odo muttered.
“You have another?” Gaynor rattled and turned on Odo with a venomous hiss. His colorful cobra hood flared.
“Not exactly.” Odo was not intimidated by the Selay’s reptilian display of antagonism. “I have a puzzle with a lot of missing pieces, and I’m suspicious by nature. Could be a coincidence. Two accidents. Two comas. Then again—”
Jake froze as Odo turned his penetrating gaze on him. “What? Don’t look at me! I didn’t do anything!”
“I didn’t say you did. However, you know both victims.”
“Every kid on the station knows every other kid, Odo. Even the visitors. There aren’t that many of us!”
“I’m aware of that, Mr. Sisko.” Odo clasped his hands behind his back. “And you’d tell me anything you knew that might be relevant to the case, right?”
“Right!” Jake swallowed nervously, wondering if he had suddenly become a suspect. “But I don’t know anything.”
“Maybe you just don’t know … what you know. Hmmm?” Odo walked out, leaving Jake stunned and speechless.
O’Brien chuckled. “Better not skip town, Jake.” As he started to exit, Dr. Bashir called him back.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to detain you and the Captain, Miles. You both touched Rotor. I have to make sure you’re not infected or carriers … if there’s anything to carry.”
O’Brien groaned. Gaynor hissed. Jake hadn’t touched either Lin or Rotor and got out of there fast.
Back in his room Jake tossed the data padd on his desk and flopped on the bed with a heavy sigh. He couldn’t stop thinking about Odo’s last words. But hard as he tried, he couldn’t figure out what he might know that he didn’t know he knew.
CHAPTER 4
Jake’s thoughts zigzagged through a maze of troublesome questions. Had Dr. Bashir found the cause of the comas yet? Would Bokat keep his word and let him play the Zhodran Crystal Quest? What kind of game was it? How come it was so hard to win? And why was he thinking about a game when two of his friends were critically ill in the Infirmary?
Off course—again! Shaking his head, Jake focused on his computer. The paper would be finished by tomorrow, even if it took all night. Which it might, he thought, scanning his notes with bored detachment. Ancient Earth history had no practical value for a twenty-fourth century teenager living in a space station on the threshold of the Gamma Quadrant frontier. Crusades was just another name for war.
European monarchs had waged three campaigns against a distant, Mediterranean people who had different religious beliefs. They had also lived in the city of Jerusalem, which had symbolic significance in the European religion. The First Crusade conquered the city. The Second Crusade hadn’t accomplished anything. And the Third Crusade, launched to take Jerusalem back from the Kurd, Saladin, had ended in a truce in A.D. 1192. Saladin kept the city, and the Europeans were granted permission to visit.
So why, Jake wondered, hadn’t they tried to negotiate a mutually satisfactory agreement in the first place! At least the Cardassians had invaded Bajor to steal the planet’s natural resources. That wasn’t right, but it made more sense than fighting over territory just because an important person had lived and died there twelve hundred years before the Crusades!
Of course, certain religious factions on Bajor wanted Starfleet to leave because they believed the Prophets’ Celestial Temple existed in the wormhole. His father had proved that the revered orbs were only messages sent by the wormhole’s alien creators, but facts hadn’t changed the Bajorans’ spiritual beliefs. However, the Federation respected Bajoran rights. Starfleet would leave the station and the wormhole rather than fight over them. Fortunately, other political groups on the planet recognized that a Starfleet
presence kept the Cardassians from trying to conquer Bajor again, and a truce had been declared.
Which made his father kind of like King Richard the Lion-Hearted of the Third Crusade. Jake sat back, intrigued by the similarity between two situations that were twelve hundred temporal years and thousands of light-years apart. Maybe some aspects of sentient nature never changed—only the beings, the places, and times.
The door chimed. “Come!” Jake shouted.
“Jake! Jake!” Nog scurried into the room, ears twitching and eyes wide with excitement. “Wait’ll you hear this!”
“What?” Jake turned, welcoming the diversion.
“You’re acting like a Ferengi who just made the deal of the century.”
“Perhaps I have.” Panting, Nog sat on the edge of the bed, then immediately bounced to his feet and began to pace. “This could be big, Jake. I mean, really big!”
“What could?” Jake leaned forward eagerly. Nog’s moneymaking scams and mischievous pranks usually got him into trouble, but they also provided some thrilling moments that broke the monotony of normal routine. Life with Nog was never dull.
“I’m not supposed to say.” Nog paced, wringing his hands.
“Then don’t.” Jake shrugged, pretending not to care.
“I did give my word.” Perching on the bed again, Nog sagged and cocked his head. “Of course, everyone knows a Ferengi’s word isn’t worth anything.”
Jake nodded. “This is true.”
“Not unless the stakes depend on it.” Nog bobbed his head thoughtfully. “Which—in this case—they don’t. In fact, I’m not sure there’s any profit in this for me at all.”
“Then I don’t see the problem.” Jake smiled. “You’re going to tell me anyway. So why waste time?”
“A good point.” A wide toothy grin split Nog’s face as he popped off the bed and hunched over, a Ferengi posture of conspiracy. “Bokat has made me an offer I can’t refuse.”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Young Adult Books #5: Arcade Page 2