“I suppose it depends on the Ferengi,” replied Odo.
“Most humans do not believe in ghosts—am I correct?” When Jake nodded, Odo continued: “However, if a skeptical human were put in surroundings that were—what is the word?—spooky and told that a ghost would appear, I imagine that the human might have some apprehension.”
Jake nodded thoughtfully. He could see Odo’s point about skeptics and ghosts. It would be easy even for someone who did not believe in ghosts to imagine all kinds of terrors. After all, nothing is more frightening to a person than his or her own imagination—or nightmares. Jake said, “You mean that most Ferengi don’t really believe in Ferengests, but they’re still a little afraid of them, anyway?”
“Precisely,” said Odo. “However, I would also point out that you might have a problem believing anything that Nog says.”
Jake felt a little embarrassed for his friend. Nobody seemed to believe Nog—well, to tell the truth, maybe Nog did play too many pranks. Still, the Ferengi boy deserved at least a little consideration, and he had looked genuinely frightened. Well, no matter what anyone else thought, Jake decided, he would give Nog the benefit of the doubt. “Thanks, Odo,” Jake said.
“Not at all,” Odo replied. He waited until Jake was almost to the door, and then he said, “Oh, Mr. Sisko. One last thing.”
Jake turned. “Yes?”
“Please give Nog a message for me. Tell him that if I should by chance seep out of my bed tonight, I will pay him a personal visit. And if he thinks that Ferengests are frightening, he will find the shape I intend to take memorable indeed.”
CHAPTER 3
Jake searched for a long time, but he could not find Nog. There was one way of searching that he did not try. Although only official station personnel wore communicator badges, everyone who lived permanently on Deep Space Nine carried locators, miniature devices that allowed the computer to lock onto them. Jake could have asked the computer for his friend’s location, but Jake knew that if Nog could not be found without using the computer, it was because the Ferengi boy did not wish to be found. After all, Jake thought, it was important to respect a friend’s privacy.
Still feeling puzzled and a bit left out, Jake finally went to the quarters he shared with his father. After first ordering a snack from the food replicator, Jake went to his bedroom and settled into a chair to read. He loved to munch peanut-butter bars and drink milk while reading a book.
He summoned up a history of baseball on his computer screen and read for a while. The game had not been played in an organized way for many years, but on Earth, kids still played it, and Jake liked to read about the history of baseball. He liked the thought of its being the “national pastime” of a whole country, and the names of the great players were like music to him: Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron, and the greatest pitcher of the twenty-first century, Hiro Osaka.
Jake began to grow sleepy. Day and night had no real meaning when you lived on a space station instead of a planet, but all the species aboard Deep Space Nine had their own periods of rest. Ferengi needed little sleep, and usually their “night” began well after midnight. The slothlike Alephans, on the other hand, were active for only about two hours a day before their personal night began. As it happened, the day on Bajor was almost the same as Earth’s, and so the station was on a twenty-four-hour clock. Jake and his dad usually turned in somewhere between ten and eleven at night.
But this evening might be different. At eight Benjamin Sisko called, waking Jake from a doze, to announce that he would be late. He told Jake to order his own dinner, and not to forget the vegetables this time. Jake stirred himself, ordered from the replicator another chocolate malted and a hamburger with all the trimmings (telling himself that pickles really were a kind of vegetable), and took the meal into his bedroom to eat. He had just finished when he heard the living room door hiss open. “Dad?” Jake called. “I’m in here.”
But the quick, light footsteps he heard were not those of his father. Jake started for the doorway. Before he reached it, a panting, shaken Nog burst through. “It’s been after me all day,” the Ferengi boy wailed, eyes wide with fear. With a glance back over his shoulder, he moaned, “Jake, hide me!”
“Uh—sure,” Jake said. “Come on into my room.” As soon as Nog had rushed past, Jake spoke an order sealing the door to everyone except his father. “You’re safe now,” he said. “Hay, sit down. You look terrible.”
Nog slumped into the chair in front of Jake’s desk. “I’ve been running from that thing ever since I left the restaurant,” he said with a weary groan. “No use! It follows me everywhere.”
Jake sat on the edge of his bunk, folding his legs under him as if he were about to meditate. “Come on, Nog. I saw the air sketch that Molly made, and she switched it off just after you ran out. It’s all gone.”
Nog stared at him. “Not the sketch,” he said. “It was the Ferengest itself, the real thing! Didn’t you see it?”
“Uh—no,” Jake said. “And neither did anybody else. Except maybe Molly, and she just made it up. Did you think-—”
“Think!” exclaimed Nog. “Think! I know what I saw. It was tall and thin, with a hood, and—ugh—those red, staring eyes. Just like in the stories that Grandma Wagga used to tell me to frighten me to sleep. Jake, what have I done? Why is it haunting me?”
“Hey, hey,” Jake said. “Calm down. First of all, tell me about this thing. I don’t know much about Ferengests.”
Nog licked his lips. “Could I have something to drink?” he asked. “I’ve been running all day.”
“Sure.” After unsealing the door, they went into the living room, where Jake ordered a Bajoran fizz from the food replicator. In a moment a tall glass of blue liquid appeared. Trying to hold it away from him, Jake took it out of the replicator. It smelled like old gym shoes, but Ferengi thought it was delicious. He handed the cold glass to Nog.
The Ferengi boy took several greedy gulps. The drink seemed to calm him down. At last he said, “Ferengests are ghosts of the ancestors. They live in the world of spirits, and they never trouble the living—except when one of their descendants has done something very bad, very stupid, or very destructive of profits.” He drained the glass, burped, and said, “What have I done? Do you think going to a human school would make my ancestors so angry that they would punish my whole family? How could my schooling have poisoned our profits? My uncle Quark is richer than ever, and I’ve never done anything to—”
“Calm down, will you?” said Jake before Nog could get all worked up again. “Hey, come on. Do Ferengests ever go for kids in these stories you’ve heard?”
“Al1 the time!” wailed Nog. “If a kid is in a game and fails to cheat his opponents, they haunt him! Whenever a kid is in trouble with his parents and doesn’t lie to get out of it, the Ferengests are waiting to ruin them all!”
“Well, I’m pretty sure no Ferengest is waiting to ruin your family,” Jake said. “Look, maybe it’s all your imagination. Molly has this invisible friend, and she drew a picture of what he’s supposed to look like. Maybe it just happened that the picture looked a little like what a Ferengest is supposed to. That accidental resemblance could have startled you, and then you imagined you saw it pursuing you. That’s possible.”
Nog got up and walked unsteadily to the food replicator. He replaced his glass and ordered another Bajoran fizz. After he had drunk half of the slimy, bubbling blue liquid, he said, “I see what you mean, Jake. But I don’t think so. I ran all through the Promenade, and when I turned around, I could see that monster’s eyes watching me, towering up above the crowd. Then I hid out in a turboshaft, but I saw the horrible eyes glowing at me from the dark. So I ran to Constable Odo’s office—”
“Wait a minute,” Jake said. “You didn’t punch a hole in his bed, did you?”
Nog shook his head irritably. “Of course not. Fear before pleasure. I went to his office to see if he would help me, but he wasn’t in. And as I was going out, I swear I saw those
eyes staring down at me from the level above.”
Jake thought for a moment. “Look,” he said at last, “you think the eyes are red, right?”
“Orange-red,” agreed Nog, shivering. “Hideous, unblinking, staring eyes.”
“Okay,” said Jake with a calming smile. “There are lots and lots of red lights all over Deep Space Nine. Did you ever think of that?”
Nog relaxed a little. “That’s right! Cardassians designed the station, and they see farther into the infrared than most species. So all their warning lights and operational signals and directional signs are red. Do you think I was so scared—uh, I mean, so excited that I could have mistaken some ordinary marker lights for that spirit’s eyes?”
With a shrug Jake said, “It’s possible. I mean, you were very-—excited—when you ran out of the restaurant.”
“Sure,” Nog said, a relieved smile spreading over his face. “Of course. That must be right. After all, I’ve always been greedy. Often I have lied and cheated and stolen. That’s all normal for a Ferengi—maybe even above average. You’re right, Jake—what could I have done that would be so bad that a Ferengest would haunt my family?”
“Nothing at all,” Jake said.
“Nothing at a11,” echoed Nog. “You’re right. Boy, do I feel like a poor merchant! I’m practically a grown Ferengi. I should have more ears than to be frightened like that.”
“You’ve got great ears,” Jake said. “It’s just that you were surprised, that’s all.” He thought of something else and decided to stretch the truth just a little. “I’11 tell you something you don’t know. When your uncle Quark saw Molly’s sketch, he was just as, huh, excited as you were. In fact, he was so startled that he threw our order up in the air. My chocolate malted landed right on top of his head.”
Nog laughed. “I wish I could have seen that!” he said. “What joy, to see one’s elders humiliated!” Then he became more serious. “Uncle Quark! I’d better go see him right away. He won’t be pleased with me. Jake, could you do me a big favor? I can’t pay for it right now, but when I am able—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake said. “Humans like to do favors for other people, remember?”
“You’re right,” Nog said. “I was so carried away that I forgot how unreasonable you are. Very well. Let’s—” Nog stopped short. With a trembling finger he pointed toward thin air. He yelped, “Look! Look there! It followed me!”
Jake stared in shocked disbelief. The living room lights had dimmed automatically at nine o’clock. Now, in the darkness, he could just make out a shimmering, transparent silver form, taller than his own father but so slim it looked emaciated. The face was in darkness, beneath what seemed to be a hood. The skin on the back of Jake’s neck prickled into goose bumps. He could see nothing of the thing’s features.
Except two glaring orange-red eyes.
CHAPTER 4
Run!” shouted Nog, bolting for the door. Jake grabbed the shorter boy’s arm. “No!” he yelled. “Wait!” He shivered a little, but he kept his eyes locked on the glimmering, transparent apparition before them. It was just standing there, absolutely still, a couple of meters away, in front of the viewport that looked out on the bright stars of deep space. Jake thought it stood watching them. At least the two reddish-orange glows that seemed to be eyes remained fixed on them. Nog tugged desperately, trying to rip himself free of Jake’s grasp, but Jake held on tight. “Nog! I don’t think this is a ghost. Look at it closely.”
“That face,” Nog said, sounding sick. “And I can see right through it!”
“What face?” Jake asked. He could see nothing, only a black blank where a face should be. In fact, except for the vague outline and the eyes, he could see no details at all. “Nog, stop trying to pull away! Look, a Ferengest would be scary and threatening, wouldn’t it?”
“It is!” shouted Nog.
“No, it isn’t. This—creature is just standing there. I don’t think it wants to harm us.”
“Not you—me.” Nog at last stopped trying to tear away from Jake’s grip. “All right,” he said miserably, speaking to the spectral form. “You have me, Ferengest. Show me what penance I must make.”
Slowly the apparition raised an arm—at least, Jake thought he could see the misty outline of an arm moving in something like a lazy wave. The arm moved oddly, as if it had three joints, not just a wrist and elbow. Swallowing hard, Jake waved back with his free arm. The hooded head tilted. The creature had noticed that Jake was imitating its actions. It moved the arm again, slowly beckoning to the boys. “Look,” Jake said. “It wants us to follow it.”
“Into the Spirit World,” Nog said. “Where no one makes money and everyone is forced to be honest, generous, and miserable for all eternity.”
“Nog, stop it,” snapped Jake. “I can’t see much of this thing, but I’ll bet it isn’t a Ferengest at all. It’s much too tall.” Jake took a deep breath. He decided that he had no time to waste with Ferengi mystical beliefs. “It wants us to go with it,” he said. “I say we follow it.”
“I—Jake, I’m afraid,” Nog confessed in a shaky voice.
His eyes still intent on the figure, Jake said, “All right. I’ll follow it, then. You find someone—your uncle, or even better, my dad. Let people know that there’s a transparent alien on board Deep Space Nine. I’ll try to stay with it. The computer can track my locator signal, so they’ll be able to find us. Now, are you calm?”
“Yes!” shrieked Nog.
Jake winced. “I am going to let go of you,” he said deliberately. “You move away, slowly. If the creature starts to follow you, we’ll make a run for it. If it stays with me, then go and find some help. Do you understand?”
“Find help,” Nog repeated. “I’m ready. Let go.”
Carefully Jake released his hold on Nog’s arm. The Ferengi boy edged away, very slowly indeed—so slowly that Jake guessed he was almost paralyzed by fear. Then he moved a little faster. Still the transparent shape did not move. “I’ll find help,” Nog called again. Then he dashed through the door, into the corridor, and out of sight.
“All right,” Jake said, a little more loudly than necessary. “Can you hear me?”
The ghostly shape made no sign.
“I will go with you,” Jake said. Speaking loudly and with precise pronunciation, Jake added, “I trust you.” He took one wary step forward. The transparent figure’s arm rose and beckoned again, and the creature floated toward the door. Jake followed it. Without removing its red gaze from him, the figure drifted slowly away, and Jake matched it step for step. The door opened as Jake drew near, and they went outside into the corridor. In the brighter light the creature almost faded completely. But by squinting, Jake could just make it out. It led him to an unused corridor, where only emergency lights glowed, and then he could see it a little better.
The alien halted next to a turbolift and pointed at the control panel. Jake hesitated. The Cardassians had thoroughly wrecked the space station before they turned it over to the Bajorans and the Federation. Chief O’Brien had worked hard to get the automatic doors, airlocks, and other mechanical systems functioning again.
Jake wondered if this lift was operating normally. Hoping that Nog would hurry, he touched the keypad. A whine of machinery told him the car was coming. After a moment the lift doors opened. The light in the car chose that instant to flicker and go out. The spectral form of the creature glided inside. Gathering all of his courage, Jake followed the transparent form. The doors slid shut. Jake took a deep, shuddery breath, hoping that he had not made the worst mistake of his life.
The lift began to move.
When he left Jake and the Ferengest behind, Nog’s first impulse was to run, wildly and blindly. He was sure that he had made a narrow escape from a terrible fate. If the young human stupidly wanted to offer himself as a substitute sacrifice, so much the better for Nog.
However, something else went into this equation. Jake was Nog’s best friend.
Once tha
t would not have meant much to Nog. Ferengi were used to solitary lives, brought up to believe in treachery, deceit, and falsehood as the best ways to deal with one’s friends. But Nog, like his uncle Quark, had been learning that the strange ways of humans and others might offer more meaningful rewards than gold-press latinum, dilithium, or credits.
And so, once his initial panic had subsided, Nog paused to consider what he should do. He hesitated to go to Quark, knowing what a scolding his uncle would give him. Nog was a little afraid of Commander Sisko, who towered over him like a great giant. He thought of Security Chief Odo, but he knew that he would have a hard time convincing the suspicious shapeshifter of anything. Nog imagined that if he told Odo that space was dark and full of stars, the security chief would look out a viewport just to be sure.
That left Keiko O’Brien. Although Ferengi believed that women should not teach boys, Nog secretly liked Keiko. She was smart, kind, and—he had to admit—extremely attractive. Where would she be at this time of night?
Nog guessed that she would be in her quarters. Molly was only three, and small human children slept a great deal. He knew where the O’Briens lived, and he hurried there, a furtive small figure easily eluding the glances of the security crew. He finally reached the O’Briens’ door and touched the doorbell pad.
Almost at once the door slid open. Chief O’Brien, his curly light-brown hair rumpled, stood before him. “You?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Who is it?” asked Keiko’s voice from inside.
Chief O’Brien said, “It’s Nog—hey!” With the quick twisting movement of a snake, Nog had dropped to the floor and slipped past him. O’Brien grunted in surprise and reached out to grab Nog—missing him by inches.
Keiko and her husband had been enjoying a meal before a holographic fire. In its flickering yellow light Nog danced around the table, just out of O’Brien’s reach, and said, “Teacher, you have to help Jake!”
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Young Adult Books #1: The Star Ghost Page 3
