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Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Young Adult Books #10: Space Camp

Page 5

by Ted Pedersen


  While Jake had to admire the rugged beauty, he knew this was also a very dangerous place. The fact that it was a holosuite simulation did not diminish that danger. Not only from the simulated planet, which was hostile enough, but from his teammates.

  In this exercise the group was about to put to use the skills they had been learning in hand-to-hand combat training.

  Each of them had been given the opportunity to select a single weapon to take with them. For safety, each of the exercise weapons had been set so that it could not do any actual physical harm. Phasers were set to low stun, and vibro-blades produced only a mild stinging sensation and could not penetrate the skin.

  Jake had chosen one of the phasers, even though he saw Professor Kala eying his choice with obvious disapproval.

  “You understand, young Sisko, that the phasers are programmed to only fire three times.”

  “I wasn’t planning to miss,” Jake retorted. “I’m an excellent marksman.”

  “As you wish,” Kala said softly.

  Jake was pleased to notice that most of the team had also selected phasers. The two exceptions were K’am and Missy. K’am chose a bat’telh, the Klingon sword of honor and ritual weapon of combat. Missy selected a traditional archer’s hunting bow and a trio of arrows.

  Going in order, determined by lot, each entered the playing field in two-minute intervals.

  “But what’s to prevent someone from waiting just inside and ambushing the others as they enter?” Nog asked.

  “Nothing” was Professor Kala’s simple answer.

  Nog gave a hard look to Jake as he stepped past him. “Fortunately I go before you.” Nog had drawn the third spot, while Jake had the luck to go last. “So watch your back.”

  I’ll do that, Jake thought to himself.

  Hesitating a moment when his turn came, Nog then dived at the entrance and went in low and ready for an ambush.

  Jake waited as the others took their turns. There was no way to know what had happened to them on the other side. If a candidate was “eliminated,” he or she would be immediately beamed out to a holding room until there was a final victor and the “game” was over.

  Now, moving stealthfully through the smoldering terrain, Jake wished desperately to be that victor, feeling it would enhance his standing in Dyan’s eyes.

  There was no sign of the others and the hard rocky surface left no tracks. There was no way to know how many of his seven teammates still survived.

  Jake almost hoped that Nog was a survivor. He wanted to personally eliminate him and show up his Ferengi friend, though he knew it would not be so easy in here. While the Ferengi lacked physical prowess, their cunning and deception would make Nog a skillful adversary.

  Jake heard a noise behind him. There was something moving in the rocks. It must be one of the others. But who?

  Not K’am. The Klingon would have made a more obvious approach, confronting him directly and challenging Jake to battle.

  Or would he? Klingons are brave and filled with honor, but they are not stupid. Jake carried a phaser, while K’am had only his bat’telh. A formidable weapon in close encounters, but no match for a phaser at a distance. Jake couldn’t understand why the professor disliked choosing phasers for this test.

  Realizing he was standing out in the open, Jake quickly moved toward the shelter of the rocks. In his haste, he stumbled. And that freak accident may have saved his life—or at least his hololife.

  Something whizzed past his ear. If he hadn’t stumbled, he realized, it would have hit him squarely in the neck.

  Shattering against the rock behind him was an arrow. At the instant of contact the arrow vanished. Had it struck him, he would have been eliminated from the game.

  It was Missy who was hunting him. And, except for a stroke of dumb luck, she would have claimed him as her victim.

  Cautiously Jake crept along a rocky ravine in an attempt to get behind the spot where he thought the arrow had come from. Maybe he could turn the tables on his opponent.

  Slowly and, he hoped, silently Jake edged his way around the rocks, careful to avoid the lava pools that bubbled up through the cracks in the ground. A misstep here would also eliminate him from the game.

  Professor Kala had told them that falling victim to “an act of nature” was as fatal as being hit by a pseudo-phaser beam. “You have two opponents in this test: your friends who have become your sworn enemies for the duration, and the planet itself.”

  The smoke created by the fissures would help to hide him, Jake thought, as he cautiously approached the place where he thought Missy had been.

  She wasn’t there of course. He really hadn’t expected to find her—but he definitely hadn’t expected to find what he did.

  Jake could see that it was a Space Camp insignia. He recalled Professor Kala remarking that when they were “eliminated,” then their insignia would be left behind as a kind of marker, or a trophy for the victor to collect.

  But no one had collected this trophy. Why not?

  Jake started forward to pick up the insignia, then paused. Something about the ground it rested on was wrong. He picked up a stone and tossed it at the insignia. The stone fell through the ground, which was not solid rock but quicksand. Someone had set up a very nasty trap and Jake had almost walked into it.

  And he was certain he knew who that someone was.

  “Nog,” Jake shouted. “I know it’s you.”

  He listened but there was only the rumbling of the planet. But he knew it was Nog, and that Nog wanted to make sure he claimed Jake as his victim.

  Jake stepped back to where the smoke would hide him. He was equally determined that he would win this game. No matter if he defeated the others or not, he wanted Nog’s insignia in his hand before this day was over.

  Down among the smoldering rocks, there was protection, but he couldn’t sit there all day and hope that Nog would come by. Cautiously, Jake began the climb up to a higher position.

  There was a small ridge that overlooked the immediate area. From there Jake could see in all directions. That was his destination.

  But the others would probably have the same thought, so he decided to take a back approach to avoid an ambush. Jake chose a rather perilous route that followed a narrow lava flow. No one in their right mind would go this way, or so he hoped the others would think.

  It took almost an hour of difficult climbing to reach the ridge. Twice he had nearly slipped, but those weekend trips with his father on Mars paid off. Finally, nearly exhausted, he made it.

  Unfortunately, as he climbed up onto the ridge, he discovered he was not alone.

  “I knew you’d come up this way,” Nog said as he pointed a phaser at Jake’s chest. “You always like to do things the hard way.”

  CHAPTER 10

  So,” Jake said angrily. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to fire?”

  “Ferengi love to gloat. I’m gloating.”

  Jake had counted on that. He knew Nog would want to see him squirm before claiming victory. It was a brief moment, but Jake seized the opportunity.

  With a lunge, Jake leaped to one side and rolled.

  Nog fired his phaser—and missed.

  Jake ducked behind a large rock. If Nog had ambushed Missy, as Jake was certain, then he had only a single phaser blast left. And Jake had all of his.

  But, as he reached for his phaser, Jake realized to his horror that it wasn’t there. He must have dropped his weapon during the ascent. If this wasn’t a game, he’d really be in serious trouble. Some Starfleet officer he’d make.

  Personal recriminations could come later, he told himself. Nog was his immediate problem. Whatever else, he didn’t want to be defeated by the Ferengi.

  He knew Nog would probably try to circle around behind him. There were only a few rocky clumps on the ridge, with a lot of open space between, so that would be difficult. He would have to slip over the side and come along one of the cliffs to be unseen.

  But he a
lso knew that Nog would be expecting him to do the same, and it was more than likely that the Ferengi would sit and wait for Jake to sneak up on him.

  So Jake decided to do the unexpected.

  With a sudden burst he ran across the open area toward the clump of rocks where Nog had been.

  Nog heard Jake coming and leaped up with his phaser, but he was a nanosecond too late. Jake plunged into the Ferengi at top speed, knocking the phaser out of his hand, and they tumbled on the ground.

  Now all their pent-up frustrations spilled out as they wrestled. This was no longer a game but had become a real fight.

  Jake was bigger and stronger, but Nog was cunning. And he had sharp teeth.

  “Oww,” Jake yelled as he pulled away from Nog, feeling the blood trickling from his ear. “That hurts.”

  “It’s gonna hurt a lot more before I’m through,” Nog yelled and then put his head down and ran straight for Jake.

  Head down, the Ferengi charged like an enraged animal, and Jake had no time to get out of the way. Down they went again, rolling around on the ground like a pair of angry Callistian pronto beasts. Although kicking and gouging, they really couldn’t inflict serious harm on each other, because they were fighting amid the boulders and tight spaces. They struggled until, finally, sheer exhaustion broke them apart.

  For a long silent minute they stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. Each, perhaps, afraid to speak because angry words might forever damage their friendship, which was already severely wounded.

  “Thanks for making it so easy.”

  They both turned to see Dyan standing on one side, and K’am on the other. The Klingon held his bat’telh at the ready, while Dyan aimed her phaser.

  Dyan, who had spoken, smiled at Jake. “Game’s over.” And she pulled the trigger. In his last instant in this simulated world, Jake saw K’am bring the bat’telh down on Nog in a symbolic death arc.

  Then Jake was in the holding room … and an instant later Nog appeared next to him. Everyone else but Dyan and K’am was present. Professor Kala sat in a chair in a corner of the room and keyed something into his touch pad.

  Dyan and K’am materialized in the room. They were both smiling in their apparent victory.

  “No fair,” complained the young Orion, Hajar. “They worked as a team.”

  “Nothing in the rules said that was illegal,” Dyan said, looking at the professor for confirmation.

  “Pairing up was not specified,” Professor Kala admitted. “But neither was it specifically forbidden. This was, after all, a test of initiative as well as courage. I declare Dyan and K’am the victors.”

  Nog passed by Jake as he moved to the exit and whispered in a low voice, “This was all your fault, Jake. I could’ve won if you hadn’t interfered.”

  “In your holodreams,” Jake retorted to Nog’s back.

  As he left the holding room, Jake thought with some sorrow that the once best friends were fast on their way to becoming worst enemies.

  The next day, while leading a field trip into the desert south of Space Camp, Jake had no time to reflect on his deteriorating relationship with Nog.

  At that moment the only thing he realized was that he had somehow made a wrong turn. He was hopelessly lost—and caught in a blinding sandstorm. Even wearing goggles it was almost impossible to see anything through the swirling grit. Worst of all, unlike yesterday, all of this was the real thing and not a holosuite simulation.

  “Nice going, Jake.” Nog was right next to him, but his words were garbled as they came out of his mouth filter.

  “We need to find shelter.” It was Dyan talking. At least everyone was still together. Getting lost in this storm could have serious results. Suddenly Jake realized that one of them, the Klingon, K’am, was missing.

  “K’am,” Jake yelled through his filter. “Report.”

  There was a long moment. The only sound he heard was the relentless howl of the storm. Jake was frightened. Not for himself, but because he was in charge of this mission and one of his team was missing. He was responsible.

  “K’am,” Jake yelled again.

  This time there was a faint response: “Over here.”

  Jake looked, but he could barely make out the shapes of Nog and Dyan who were standing beside him.

  “Here…” Jake heard the faint voice again. But where was it coming from? He hesitated, afraid to make the wrong decision. But the storm was getting worse. He had to do something fast.

  “This way.” Jake pointed in the direction he thought the voice had come from. “Hang on to each other so we don’t get separated.”

  Slowly, as though trudging through waist-deep water, the trio moved through the swirling sand.

  “K’am! Where are you?” Jake yelled into the storm. If he had his tricorder, it would be simpler to locate the missing Klingon. But this field exercise denied them the use of any sophisticated technology.

  Jake’s only comfort lay in the fact that if they were in real danger, Kala could transport them back to camp immediately. In the meantime, the professor apparently was of the opinion that a little discomfort would do them good. Adults seemed to revel in putting the next generation through the same hardships they had to endure as kids. It didn’t seem fair, but as his father had told him on more than one occasion, “Life is never fair, Jake.”

  “K’am,” Jake yelled again as he trudged through the sandstorm, with Nog and Dyan holding on behind. He could only hope he had chosen the right direction.

  “Here.” The voice was now loud and clear. But where was it coming from? There didn’t seem to be anyone in front of him.

  Suddenly, in a single misstep, Jake found out where K’am was. He fell through the sand and into the pit that the Klingon had stumbled into. Fortunately it was a short drop, but its coming unexpectedly made Jake hit the bottom of the pit hard.

  “Hurt?” K’am asked as he helped Jake to his feet.

  “Only my pride. That was a stupid mistake.”

  “It was,” K’am said. “Even more so for a Klingon.”

  Jake smiled. K’am had a way of defusing situations, which was a very un-Klingon trait.

  “Jake,” Nog yelled from above.

  “Stay where you are,” Jake yelled back. He moved to the wall and tried to climb, but the sand was loose and it was impossible to scale even the short distance to the surface.

  “That’s why I didn’t climb out,” K’am said as he stepped over beside Jake.

  Jake surveyed the situation. The last thing he wanted was for Nog to have to pull him out of the pit, especially in front of Dyan. There had to be another way. The pit wasn’t very deep, only about one and a half times his own height. But the walls were smooth and sandy and impossible to climb.

  “Together I think we can get out,” Jake suddenly said to K’am, having thought of the solution.

  Climbing onto the Klingon’s shoulders, Jake was able to emerge from the pit. Nog and Dyan were standing only a short distance away, but barely visible through the swirling sand. At least in the pit I was out of the storm, Jake thought. Maybe that’s where we ought to stay until the storm subsides.

  “Over here,” Jake yelled.

  Cautiously Nog and Dyan moved through the sand until they reached Jake.

  “Give me your rope,” Jake said to Nog.

  “To pull K’am out?” Nog asked as he uncurled a length of rope and handed it to Jake.

  “No, to help us into the pit. Until the storm is over.”

  Jake held the rope as first Dyan and then Nog slid down into the pit. Then, knowing they could get out again the way he had, he let the rope fall into the pit, and he finally slid down the sandy walls himself.

  This time he knew what to expect and he hit the ground standing up.

  “Interesting…” Dyan was saying as she looked around the pit.

  “What’s so interesting about a hole in the ground?” Nog asked.

  “It’s not really a hole,” she replied, moving over to the cor
ner. “It’s like an entrance.”

  Jake looked and saw what she saw: a small depression in one wall. Dyan swept aside some sand, revealing an opening just large enough for someone to squeeze through.

  “Perhaps we should explore and see where it goes,” K’am suggested.

  “That’s not part of our mission,” Jake said. “But we can record our find for the Space Camp archaeological team. That is, we could, if we had a tricorder.”

  Nog reached into his backpack and pulled out his holocube. “I can record it on my holocube, and we can transfer the data when we get back.”

  “We weren’t allowed to carry tricorders.” Jake thought about it. “I doubt if personal recorders are permitted.”

  “On the other hand,” Dyan said, “without recording it now, chances are we may never find our way back again.”

  Jake had to admit to himself that she had a point. The pit had opened up because of the storm shifting the sand, and it might well vanish again with the next storm. And this just might be an important archaeological find. “Go ahead and record,” he told Nog.

  “What’da you think I’ve been doing,” Nog replied as he swept the area with his holocube. “There. Tagged and identified for prosperity.”

  Suddenly there was another ground tremor. This one was sharper and lasted a second or two longer than the others Jake had felt. Rijar was such an old world that these tremors seemed unnatural here. He wondered what could be causing them.

  K’am was standing under the opening. Above him the storm was subsiding. There was even a patch of sunlight. “Then let’s get out of here and find our pickup point: I, for one, have eaten enough sand for one day.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Far away in another part of the quadrant, Deep Space Nine floated like a tarnished jewel in the darkness of the galactic sea. Inside the space station the inhabitants went about their daily tasks.

  Some, like the changeling Security Chief Odo, were charged with maintaining order on what seemed like a frontier boomtown similar to those that had sprung up in the Old American Wild West on Earth. But rather than seeking gold, most of those who passed through Deep Space Nine sought the treasures that awaited them on the other side of the wormhole in the dangerous and unexplored Gamma Quadrant.

 

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