Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Young Adult Books #5: Arcade

by Diana G. Gallagher

  “Fine.” Jake sighed. “A little nervous, maybe.”

  “Nothing unusual about that.” Leaning forward slightly, Sisko whispered, “I always get nervous when it’s time for Starfleet’s senior officer evaluations. Butterflies, cold sweats, bad dreams, sick to my stomach. It’s awful.”

  “Really?” Jake sat back, surprised. His father was the hard, demanding commander of Deep Space Nine. Oddly, knowing that the self-assured elder Sisko had moments of anxiety bolstered Jake’s spirits and confidence. “Being evaluated makes you sick?”

  “Worse than diplomatic receptions.” Smiling tightly, Sisko stepped aside as O’Brien and Dr. Bashir came forward with the alien headpiece. Dax remained by the console that integrated the Federation helmets with the Zhodran device.

  “All right, Jake,” Dr. Bashir said pleasantly. “There’s nothing to worry about. The biobed will monitor all your physical responses. The second an injury registers, I’ll be right here to take care of it.” The young man flinched as O’Brien shot him a warning look and kicked him in the lower leg. “Not that I expect anything to happen, of course,” Dr. Bashir sputtered. “It’s just a precaution, you understand.”

  “Of course.” Jake was very much aware that a lot could go wrong, but knowing Dr. Bashir was there to fix any injuries eased some of the tension. “I’ll be fine. It might even be fun.”

  “Sure it will. Look at it as a great adventure.” O’Brien held up the Crown of Ultimate Wisdom. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Jake nodded and stretched out on the biobed. Ready or not, here I come, he thought as O’Brien placed the silver device on his head. A warm tingling spread over his scalp just before everything went dark.

  Commander Benjamin Sisko had never felt so helpless. His only child was embarking on a dangerous mission—alone. Making difficult decisions was part of growing up, and Sisko could not deny Jake’s right to take responsibility. Jake was exceptionally talented and skilled at this type of game. Still, if anything happened to him, Sisko would never forgive himself.

  “He’s in, Commander,” Dax reported from the integration console. “Federation connections are activated.”

  Sisko’s heart lurched as Jake’s facial features went slack.

  “Vital signs normal and holding steady.” Dr. Bashir stood on the other side of the biobed, surrounded by emergency medical equipment. “Alpha brain-wave activity is not registering.”

  Sisko nodded in acknowledgment. This was not an unexpected development. Jake’s conscious mind had been transferred into the alien circuitry of the Zhodran device. The boy was on his own.

  “Commander!” O’Brien called out. “I’m getting a visual.”

  Turning abruptly, Sisko stared at the portable monitor and a picture of a forest as seen through Jake’s eyes. A bed of pine needles cushioned a trail winding through a woodland of majestic trees. Sparkling dust motes danced in rays of sunlight that streamed through green-leafed branches. A red bird soared from a high perch with a shrill cry, scolding Jake for disturbing the wilderness peace. A small, furry animal with alert brown eyes and a twitching nose darted across the path. A brook ran parallel to the trail, splashing over rocks flecked with glittering crystals.

  “I’m sorry,” Dr. Bashir said sharply. “The Infirmary is temporarily closed except for extreme emergencies.”

  Sisko glanced over his shoulder with a frown. A humanoid alien he did not recognize paused in the doorway. The tall, slim man wore high black boots over royal-blue tights and a short, white-furred cape over a matching tunic. Startling blue eyes dominated a beautiful face framed in long silken white hair. He carried a silver rod with flickering blue lights in one hand and a wide leather thong in the other. Ignoring Dr. Bashir, the alien advanced. A faint humming sound sang from the silver rod.

  Furious, Sisko moved to stop the alien. No distractions could be tolerated. “This area is currently off-limits—”

  Spotting the monitor, the alien screeched and twirled the folded leather thong above his head. A pocket in the middle of the strap whipped through the air. With a snap he released one end, sending a white rock skimming across the room. Sisko ducked, but the monitor screen shattered in a blast of sparks and glass.

  Dr. Bashir hit his comm badge. “Odo! To the Infirmary. Now! Hostile alien intruder!”

  “What the—!” Sisko stumbled backward as the alien dropped the slingshot, pushed past him, and lunged toward Jake. Fearing for Jake’s safety, Sisko sprang,and grabbed the man around the waist. They fell on the floor in a tangle of thrashing arms and legs. The alien shrieked twisting and kicking under Sisko’s bulk. Heavier than the slim humanoid, Sisko kept him pinned down until Odo appeared and snatched the silver rod. The alien stopped struggling instantly.

  Major Kira ran in a moment later. She paused, looked at Sisko, then Odo, and shrugged. “Well, it looks as if you two have things under control here.”

  “More or less,” Sisko said breathlessly.

  “His ship isn’t armed, Commander. Neither was he, according to my sensors,” Kira said defensively. “I had no idea he was a threat until I heard Dr. Bashir’s call for Security.”

  Odo picked up the fallen slingshot and handed it to Kira. “Primitive, but effective, Major.”

  Nodding, Kira inspected the leather strap. “And made of harmless natural materials. The weapon detectors aren’t calibrated to suspect a device like this.”

  Rising to his feet, Sisko quickly looked at the team following Jake’s progress. “Status report.”

  “The Zhodran device and the Federation helmets are operating perfectly,” Dax said calmly.

  “Jake’s physical readings are still normal, too,” Dr. Bashir spoke without taking his gaze away from the biobed sensors.

  “But we’ve lost visual contact,” O’Brien’s fist slammed into the broken monitor cabinet. “There’s nothing I can do to fix this, Commander.”

  So far, Jake was all right. But for how long? Checking his temper, Sisko hauled the alien to his feet and glared into blazing blue eyes. “I am Commander Benjamin Sisko, the Starfleet administrator of this space station. Who are you?”

  The alien tensed, then relaxed with a serene sigh. “I am Talarn, High Priest of the Zhodran Temple of Light.”

  “Why did you attack my son?”

  The priest glanced at Jake. “That one wears the Crown of Ultimate Wisdom. I’ve been searching for it since it was stolen from the Temple of Light many years ago.”

  “How did you know it was here?” Major Kira asked curiously.

  “May I?” Talarn addressed Odo, extending an open hand toward the silver rod.

  Sisko nodded, and the security officer reluctantly gave the dazzling artifact back to the Zhodran. The humming grew louder when the priest pointed it at Jake. The blue lights brightened and flashed faster.

  “All these years,” Talarn said, “the locator staff has been dark and silent. I have been wandering from star to star looking for the crown. When it was finally activated, the rod responded, and I tracked it here. The Crown of Ultimate Wisdom is the sacred property of Zhodran. You must return it immediately.”

  “I recognize your claim, Talarn.” Calmer now, Sisko adopted a diplomatic tone. “And the crown will be returned—after my son and three other children are separated from the neural matrix.”

  Talarn shook his head sadly. “They cannot return, Benjamin Sisko. To escape the power of the crown, the mind must overcome many obstacles and make the right decision at the journey’s end.”

  “We’re aware of that.” Sisko motioned toward Dax and the integration console. “Additional conduits have been attached to the crown to provide safe passage for all the children’s minds.”

  “Ingenious, but futile.” Talarn paused, then added in a somber whisper. “It has never been done.”

  “Never’s a long time,” Kira scoffed.

  The high priest remained unruffled. “The Zhodran are a quiet people, and mistrustful of outsiders. However, our planet is located in a c
rowded, highly traveled sector of space.”

  Sisko listened patiently. Dax had explained that the Zhodran were isolationists who feared everything foreign.

  “For two thousand years representatives of many alien species have tried to solve the puzzle of the crown. Passing this test is required to open diplomatic and trade relations with Zhodran.”

  Sisko frowned darkly as the meaning of the priest’s words became clear. “Are you saying no one has successfully completed this test in two thousand years?”

  “Yes.” Talarn scanned the gathering with genuine regret. “The journey is riddled with tasks designed to test the character of the individual chosen to represent their species. Qualities such as honesty, courage, compassion—all are measured. Many get far, but no one ever makes the right judgment in the end. Only the high priest and his designated successor know the correct response, a secret that has been guarded for generations.”

  Stunned, Sisko just stared at him.

  “The mind becomes trapped, and eventually it simply fades out of existence.” A tear ran down the Zhodran’s cheek as he gazed on the bodies of the children. “They are lost.”

  “No.” Sisko turned to look at Jake’s still face. “This game is not over yet.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Even though Jake knew he was hooked up to a virtual reality device, it seemed as if he had really been transported to the Zhodran world. A beautiful world, Jake thought when he awakened in the middle of a lush forest. The tall trees and clear, running stream reminded him of Earth. He had gone trout fishing once in an Adirondack river—on the holodeck of the Saratoga. But holosimulations were only images of reality, and this world wasn’t real, either. It was just an illusion taking place in his mind.

  Still, it felt real, and Jake eagerly started down the winding path. The scenery was a refreshing change from the somber gray halls of the Cardassian-built space station, and the challenge written into the rules teased his competitive spirit. The Zhodran Crystal Quest promised to be a thrilling adventure most players could only dream about. Then he remembered that his best friend and two other children were trapped within the matrix. The results of playing were real, too—and dangerous.

  Knowing that Dax, O’Brien, Dr. Bashir, and his father were watching was a comfort. If he did make a mistake, they would not abandon him in the alien game.

  Don’t think about failure, Jake admonished himself. A winner was positive and confident, and he was going to win.

  The trees began to thin out, and soon the trail left the woods to meander up a grassy slope. At the top of the knoll, Jake paused and gasped. He dropped to the ground, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs. A calm lake stretched before him. Tena Lin was trapped on a burning bridge to the left. Straight ahead, a rowboat was tethered to a wooden dock guarded by—a Borg.

  “Oh, no…” Jake slid backward on his stomach, shaking his head and trembling with fear. Not a Borg. Anything but a Borg. It had been three years since the biological-mechanical aliens had attacked the Federation Fleet at Wolf 359. His father, first officer under the Vulcan Captain Storil, had been on the bridge when the huge, cube-shaped Borg ship fired on the U.S.S. Saratoga. Jake and his mother had been in their quarters when an explosion ripped the deck apart and sent a broken bulkhead down upon them. Fire. Jake remembered flames leaping upward from the level below and the crashing sound of heavy metal. Then he had blacked out. His next memory was waking up in a hospital bed with his father sitting by his side. His mother had died on the ship.

  The nightmares didn’t happen so often now, but they were always there—dreadful images of giant box ships and mechanical men—waiting in the depths of his mind to attack him in sleep.

  This time he was wide awake. He could not hide or run. He had to face the Borg, or Tena Lin would never escape the fire or the game matrix. Taking a deep breath, Jake surveyed the layout of the land. Maybe he could avoid the deadly Borg sentry.

  Jake studied the burning bridge. The Bajoran girl was hard to see through the fire and smoke, but she had made it halfway across before the flames had cut her off. Unable to advance or retreat, she was stuck in the middle of the blazing inferno. Jake could not use the bridge, either. He would be caught in the fire, too, and they’d both be trapped.

  But he could swim. It wasn’t that far, and once he reached the bridge, he could coax Tena Lin into jumping off. She’d have to leap through the burning wall, but even if her clothes caught fire, falling into the water would extinguish the flames. First, he had to get to the lake, and there were no bushes or trees to provide cover. The Borg might spot him, but that was a chance he had to take. Individual Borg were very single-minded and ignored everything but the immediate task. If Jake didn’t go near the dock, maybe this one would ignore him.

  Crawling on arms and knees, Jake moved down the slope on his stomach. The Borg guardian of the dock did not seem to notice him. It stared straight ahead, the energy weapon built onto its right arm raised and ready. So far so good….

  Solid ground suddenly squished, and Jake’s elbow sank into dark brown ooze. “Yuck.” Jake wrinkled his nose. The stench of rotting grass and other organics fouled the mud. A sucking slurp cut the quiet as he pulled his arm out of the muck. Jake wondered if the whole lake was surrounded by the bog. A moment later he realized the size of the awful-smelling mire was irrelevant.

  Something sharp stung his thigh. He swallowed a yelp of pain, scooted back onto dry ground, and rolled onto his side. A small, amphibious creature that resembled a blue frog with a spotted dorsal fin was attached to his leg by its teeth. It suddenly began to chomp with ravenous hunger.

  The carnivorous little beast was trying to eat him! Jake grabbed at the frog, yanked it off, and hurled it into the still water. Scrambling backward, Jake watched in horror as the water came alive. Thousands of Zhodran frogs rocketed into the air. They came in various shades of blue and green, and ranged in size from a couple of inches to over a foot long. The lake teemed with the creatures, and they all had snapping, pointed teeth that could strip the flesh from a boy’s bones in less than five minutes.

  Jake was not going swimming.

  Dropping his head onto crossed arms, Jake moaned. Unless he wanted to forsake his friends and force his father to risk his life in the game, he had to face the Borg. There was no other way to get to the rowboat. At least the Borg would just blast him to smithereens. It didn’t want him as the main course for dinner.

  Resigned, Jake paused to consider the situation. A Borg stood between him and the rowboat, which he needed to rescue Lin and get to the far shore. The tools to accomplish the task had to be programmed into the game. Defeating the Borg might be difficult, but not impossible. He just had to figure out how.

  A large purple bruise appeared around the bite wound, then began to disappear. Apparently, back in the Infirmary, Dr. Bashir was on the job. The sting faded to an irritating itch, and Jake turned his attention to the Borg. Rising to his feet, he strode boldly across the grass toward the dock.

  The sentry did not react until Jake hit a strip of sand separating the grass from the water. “Halt and be assimilated,” the Borg said in a flat monotone. “Resistance is futile.”

  My eye, Jake thought. The Enterprise had arrived at Wolf 359 too late to save most of the Fleet, but the crew had destroyed the Borg ship and saved Earth. As long as he was still alive and thinking, nothing was futile. He quickly stepped back onto the grass and stumbled over a rusty, metal chest he hadn’t noticed before. The Borg resumed its silent, watchful stance. Jake touched the sand with his toe.

  “Halt and be—”

  The Borg stopped talking the moment Jake retreated from the beach. He suspected the game had materialized the chest once his intention to approach the dock had been established. Now that he knew the Borg would ignore him, he could examine the contents of the chest without worrying about being shot … or assimilated.

  Stressed metal creaked as Jake opened the box. There were two items inside: a Klingon disr
upter and a Federation-issue electronic tuner. O’Brien used a similar device to calibrate sensors on Deep Space Nine. Again, Jake stopped to think.

  Challenge the Borg or forfeit. Defeat the Borg or lose. Every game he had ever played provided the tools necessary to win. They also incorporated tricks designed trap an anxious, unwary player. Only one of the items was the right one. Which one?

  The Klingon disrupter would short-circuit the Borg’s systems killing it, but the weapon lacked the precision of a Federation phaser. The beam might also destroy the dock and the rowboat. Besides, the idea of killing anything turned Jake’s stomach sour.

  He picked up the tuner and studied the frequency control. The instrument could be set to transmit at different wavelengths. Of course! All Borg were in constant communication with every other Borg. Isolated from the collective mind, an individual could not function. Jake did not have to kill the Borg to succeed. Gripping the tuner, he stepped onto the beach.

  “Halt and be assimilated. Resistance is futile.”

  The Borg lowered its weapon and took aim. Armed only with a maintenance tool, Jake frantically shifted frequencies. If he didn’t hit the right one soon, the game would be over, and he would be trapped. No fate could be worse than spending eternity as a member of the Borg collective.

  “Halt and be assimilated. Resistance is fu—”

  Jake jerked his hand off the touch-pad. The Borg was frozen, its expression blank.

  It worked!

  Shaking, Jake kept the transmitter pointed at the sentry as he slipped past. He untied the rowboat and stepped in. Hundreds of hungry frogs skimmed through the water just beneath the surface. Still aiming the tuner, Jake sat down on the center seat and gently pushed off with his free hand.

  When the boat had drifted clear, Jake set the tuner on the aft seat and reached for the oars. His hand slipped on the smooth wood, and the broad end of the right oar smacked the water. A dozen frogs leaped from the lake. Two landed in the boat and hopped toward Jake for a quick nibble. He dispatched them quickly, throwing them far from the boat. All that holosuite pitching practice had sure been coming in handy lately.