by John Peel
Jake felt sorry for him, but he could understand some of the boy’s pain. “My mom was killed by the Borg,” he said. “I know how hard it is. And now you’re living with your uncle?”
“Him?” yelled Riv. “Only because I was forced to! He didn’t fight for our planet! He’s a coward and I hate him!” The Bajoran boy glared around the class. “And I hate all of you, too!”
CHAPTER 2
After a moment of embarrassed silence Ms. O’Brien said: “Well, I’m glad you’re looking forward to class, Riv.” There was a little laughter at this. “Right, I think you’d better sit over by Jake,” she decided. Since there were plenty of empty desks, Jake realized she was doing this for a reason.
For a minute it looked as if Riv would refuse. Then he gave an elaborate shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah, why not?” he agreed. He slumped in the chair beside Jake.
“Thank you,” the teacher said. “Now, can you operate the computer? If not, I’m sure Jake will be able to help you.”
“I can do it,” Riv snapped, glaring at Jake. “I don’t need any help from anyone for anything.” He punched the pad and the screen lit up. “See?”
“That’s fine,” said Ms. O’Brien. “Right, class, we’re starting with biology today. I’d like you all to access the file material on the Gorn.”
“I’d rather study Cardassian biology,” grumbled Riv.
Jake grinned. “Is it interesting?” he asked.
“It could be,” replied Riv. “I might be able to find a new way to kill one.”
“That is quite enough,” Ms. O’Brien said, firmly.
“Riv, the war is over, and you have to learn to get on with your life, to make something of it.”
“The only thing I want to do,” Riv told her, “is to carry on what my parents started. I don’t care about anything else but making the Cardassians pay for what they’ve done.”
“There are other things in life,” answered Ms. O’Brien. “You really should make an attempt to come to terms with that. But if you won’t, then at least let the rest of the class learn.”
Riv shrugged. “I don’t care what they do.”
“How kind,” the teacher said. “Right, if you’ve all found the data files, you’ll see that the Gorn are a reptile-like species first encountered…”
Jake tried to concentrate on the lesson, but his attention kept wandering back to Riv. The Bajoran boy was slouched over his desk, looking bored and annoyed. He obviously didn’t want to be here. He was filled with anger and hurt. Jake could understand that. Riv must have lived for years on the run from the Cardassian soldiers—always tired, always hungry, and always in danger. He’d lost both his parents in the fighting and now was staying with an uncle he clearly despised. It was going to be hard for him to adjust to this new life—assuming he even wanted to try. It didn’t look very likely at the moment.
At least Riv didn’t disrupt the lessons further. He stayed sullen and silent for the rest of the morning. Finally it was time for lunch, and Ms. O’Brien called for the break.
Jake and Nog headed across to the small replicator unit in the corner of the room. Ashley and T’Ara went with them. Riv—trying to look uninterested—shambled along behind them.
“I hope this thing works right this time,” Nog complained.
Ashley blushed. The food replicator in the classroom broke down almost every day. Ashley had insisted that she could repair it—and had tried six times so far. Chief O’Brien had allowed her to try because “she can’t break it worse than it is, can she?” Every time the replicator was repaired, it broke down again.
“It’s definitely right,” she promised. “I stayed late after school yesterday and took it apart. I checked everything. It’s definitely going to work right this time.”
“That’s what you said yesterday,” grumbled Nog. “And the day before.”
“Yeah, well, maybe she got it fixed,” Jake told his friend. Ashley was embarrassed enough by her constant failure; she didn’t need Nog’s complaints as well. “We’ll give it a try.” Standing in front of the machine, he addressed the computer. “Give me a soda, burger, and potatoes,” he said.
There was a slight pause, and then a shimmering within the small chamber. On the ledge appeared a dish….
“Oh, gross!” growled Riv. “What is that?”
Ashley blushed furiously, her whole face turning a bright red. “Stew and cheesecake,” she hissed. “Again.”
The Bajoran boy stared at it. “In one dish?” He stuck out his tongue in disgust. “I ate better than that when I scavenged on the garbage dumps for food.”
“It is not supposed to produce that,” T’Ara informed him.
“No kidding?” Riv laughed nastily at Ashley.
Ashley was too embarrassed by another failure to get too angry at this uncalled-for insult. “I don’t understand it,” she complained. “I was sure I’d fixed it.”
“I understand it,” Riv said. “You’re just a useless idiot, like the others here.”
“That’s enough,” Jake said, firmly. “Ashley’s doing her best, so don’t pick on her.”
“You wanna make me?” challenged Riv, turning to face him. He looked eager for a fight. “Go ahead—try!”
Before Jake could react, Ms. O’Brien stepped forward. “There will be no fighting in my class,” she said. “Riv, please keep from insulting everyone. Jake, maybe you and Nog could go to the replicator in my office and get lunch for everyone?”
Jake glared at Riv, wanting the other boy to understand that he wasn’t afraid of him. Then he nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. It was what they had been doing all week.
“I don’t understand it,” Ashley complained again. She shook her head. “I guess I’d better take it apart again after school.”
T’Ara nodded solemnly. “I will help,” she offered.
Riv just rolled his eyes in disgust. But he did tell Jake what he wanted for his lunch, and then ate it ravenously when Jake and Nog returned with the food. He was still getting used to eating regular meals, that much was clear.
The rest of the classes went fairly smoothly, mostly because Riv tried hard to look as if he were sleeping through them. Ms. O’Brien refused to be baited and continued as if he were paying complete attention. Jake wasn’t sure it was having any effect on Riv, but at least it helped everyone else.
After lessons were finished, Riv “suddenly” woke up and shot out of the door. Ashley and T’Ara headed for the replicator, ready to get back to work. Jake and Nog wandered together back to the Promenade.
“So,” Jake asked his Ferengi friend, “what do you think of Riv?”
“Nothing,” Nog replied. “I have no intention of thinking about him at all. I’m too busy thinking about that freighter we saw earlier.”
“He seems very unhappy,” Jake continued. “Do you think he’ll get used to life here?”
Nog shrugged. “He’d better. Who cares?” He grinned. “Let’s talk about important things. Like money.”
“Nog, this is important,” replied Jake.
“Humans,” muttered Nog. He made it sound like an insult. “Look, Riv’s uncle works for my uncle in the bar. I’ve met the man—he’s a fat, lazy thing, with all the personality of a dead fish. No wonder Riv doesn’t like the guy. Nobody else does, either. So I think Riv’s problems are his own; my problem is getting some money. Why don’t you concentrate on that?”
Jake sighed. It was obvious that Nog wasn’t interested. He wasn’t sure why he should care about the Bajoran boy, either, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for Riv. He’d had a rough life, and now he was stuck here. Maybe there was something he could do to help him—but what?
Ashley bit at her lower lip, concentrating hard on the computer chip board she was examining. A wisp of her blond hair fell into her eyes. She brushed it back, not even noticing the dark, oily streak her fingers left on her skin. Something was definitely very odd here.
“You have found the problem?” asked T’Ara, ra
ising a pointy eyebrow.
“I think so,” Ashley replied. “I checked out this chip yesterday. It’s part of the command code mechanism. There was a small cross-circuit between these two points. I removed it, and that should have fixed things.”
T’Ara peered down at the board. The gleam of metal where Ashley was pointing was quite obvious. “It appears that the cross-circuit is still there,” she commented.
“Not still there,” answered Ashley. “Back again.” She tapped the board in her palm. “You know what it looks like to me? I think somebody’s deliberately sabotaging my repairs.”
Raising her eyebrow again, T’Ara asked, “You are sure?”
“It’s the only answer that makes sense,” Ashley told her. “I’ve been trying to find a broken part or some other problem. I thought it was just the equipment breaking down as usual. But this isn’t an accident. Somebody had to have deliberately put it there, because I know I took it out yesterday.”
The Vulcan girl frowned slightly. “But who would do a thing like that?” she objected. “And why?”
“I don’t know,” Ashley admitted. “But when I do find out, whoever it is will pay for trying to make me look bad. I can promise you that. He or she is gonna regret this.”
CHAPTER 3
Jake stopped by the living quarters he shared with his father. Despite the fact that Commander Benjamin Sisko was in charge of Deep Space Nine, their rooms on the station were smaller than the ones they’d shared in other places. Jake couldn’t really think of them as “home”—they were just rooms to sleep in, to study in, and to store things in. He glanced at the computer pad and saw that his father was going to be on duty for another hour or so, which meant Jake had some free time.
He glanced at the baseball and catcher’s mitt on his table. A game on the holodeck? No, he didn’t really feel like it right now. Maybe after dinner. At the moment there was just one thing on his mind: Riv Jakar. He still felt sorry for the boy and wondered what he could do to make the Bajoran more at home on DS9. Home! Jake shook his head. He didn’t feel like this was really home, so how could he help Riv? After all, Commander Sisko had been posted to four starships and two planetary bases that Jake could remember. It was always possible that any day now Starfleet would move him again, and Jake would have to go with his father, leaving behind all his friends on the station.
Riv, on the other hand, looked as if he was stuck here whether he liked it or not. Jake made up his mind to head over to Quark’s place. Nog would be there, so he’d at least have someone to talk to, and maybe he’d run into Riv as well. Whether that would be a good or bad thing, Jake couldn’t say.
In the center of Deep Space Nine was the Promenade. It was kind of like a shopping center in space. Nog’s uncle, Quark, owned a large part of the place. Quark’s was a bar, a gambling salon, and a whole mess of holosuites. Visitors and staff could eat, drink, and play there, and they often spent a lot of money. Like all Ferengi, Quark loved making money.
The place was busy, as always, when Jake arrived. He spotted Nog at about the same time that the Ferengi boy spotted him. Jake asked him: “Which one is Riv’s uncle?”
Nog grimaced. “Back to that, are you? I don’t know why you even think about that horrible brat.”
Jake couldn’t resist a grin. “That’s what everyone said to me when I made friends with you.”
“It’s not the same thing at all,” Nog complained. Then he pointed. “That’s him, over there—the one that looks like one of those Earth creatures we studied in class. You know, a walrus.”
Riv’s uncle was working at one of the game tables, and Jake could see why Nog had called him a walrus. The Bajoran man was very large and tubby, and beneath his ridged Bajoran nose he had a large, prickly-looking mustache that stuck out several inches on either side. With his dark hair and small eyes, the man did look like a walrus on a beach. The scowl on his face didn’t look encouraging, either.
“He doesn’t look too friendly,” Jake said.
“He isn’t,” said Nog, scowling. “I can see why Riv has problems with him.”
“That’s only one reason,” said Riv. Jake whirled around, unaware that the Bajoran boy had managed to sneak up behind him.
“You startled me!” he said. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
“I was in the Bajoran underground,” Riv reminded him. “You learn to be quiet. If you’re not, you get to be dead very quickly. Satisfied yet? Or are you gonna sneak about some more and pry into my private life?”
Jake felt his face get hot. “I was just trying to help,” he muttered.
“Well, don’t!” snarled Riv. “I’ve had all the help I can take! If it weren’t for interfering do-gooders, I’d still be back on Bajor. Instead, I’m stuck on this dump of a space station with a bunch of jerks in some dumb class and living with an uncle who hates me. Now do you get why I don’t like it here?”
Nodding, Jake said: “Yes, I guess it would be hard for things to get much worse for you, wouldn’t it?” He smiled. “So why not make things a bit better instead? Nog and I would like you to come to the Arcade with us.” He gave his Ferengi friend a kick. “Wouldn’t we?”
“Oh, sure,” said Nog without any enthusiasm. “I just love hanging out with antisocial parasites with attitude problems.”
Talk about no help at all … “He’s just joking,” Jake told Riv, hoping the Bajoran would believe it.
“Right. I’ve heard a lot about the Ferengi sense of humor.” He gave a nasty little smile. “They say you have to cut a Ferengi into very little pieces to find it.”
This was obviously not working out. “Look,” said Jake, sighing, “the offer’s open. Any time you want a friend, I’ll be around. Till then—” He stopped talking, realizing that Riv wasn’t listening. The Bajoran’s eyes had narrowed to slits, and he was hissing softly as he stared past Jake and Nog. Puzzled, Jake turned around to see what had caught Riv’s attention.
It was Garak, the tailor. He was the only Cardassian who had remained behind when the army of occupation had left Deep Space Nine. Like all Cardassians, Garak was tall and skinny. His long neck ended in a vaguely reptilian face, gray in color, and with just the hint of scales. Despite his ferocious appearance, he had deep eyes that held more than a sparkle of humor in them. Jake had met him only once, but there was something rather likable about him.
“There are still Cardassians on this station?” whispered Riv, his mouth twitching angrily at the edges. “You didn’t kill them all off?”
“We didn’t kill any of them,” Jake replied. “The war’s over, remember? They all left, except Garak. He owns the clothing store on the Promenade.”
“It’s easy for you to say the war’s over,” Riv said angrily. “Your parents weren’t murdered by the Cardassians. That one should be thrown out of the nearest airlock to breath space.”
“Garak’s okay,” replied Jake. “He’s not a soldier, he’s a shopkeeper.”
“All Cardassians are alike,” snapped Riv. “Killers. It’s them or us.” His eyes narrowed again. “And I’m gonna fix that one.”
Jake didn’t like the sound of that threat. Riv seemed to be the sort of person who carried things through. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he warned.
“Stupid is letting one of those monsters on the station,” Riv growled. Then he stormed off.
After a moment’s silence Nog grinned. “Well, I think you’ve shown that Riv really is as bad as his uncle claims. Now can we do something interesting? There’s gotta be a way for me to make some money, if I can just figure out what….”
Jake wasn’t really paying attention. Did Riv really mean to do something about Garak? If so—what? Should he tell his father so that Riv could be watched? Or was that what Riv wanted? If he did tell his father, then there was no chance that Riv would ever come to accept him as a friend. He sighed. Whatever he did was likely to be wrong. But in a situation like this, how could he decide what to do?
The following morning Jake
, Ashley, and T’Ara arrived in class almost together. “Did you get the replicator fixed?” he asked them.
“Yeah,” Ashley told him. “But we made a real interesting discovery. Somebody fixed the machine so that it only made stew and cheesecake.”
“But who’d do a thing like that?” asked Jake, puzzled.
“We have not been able to discover the answer as yet,” T’Ara replied. “But Ashley has come up with a possible way to resolve the problem.”
“Way to go,” said Jake, approvingly. Before he could ask more questions, Ms. O’Brien entered the class. Nog followed and slid into his seat. The two girls sat down as well. As they all switched on their computers, Riv sauntered in, hands in his pockets and looking bored. Jake was quite surprised that the Bajoran boy had bothered to come to class, but nodded to him. Riv ignored him but sat down at the desk he had occupied the previous day.
“Right,” Ms. O’Brien said. “Today, let’s study a little history. Who can tell me who invented warp drive?”
Ashley’s hand shot up. “Zephram Cochrane,” she announced. “In the year 2061.” She grinned. “Easy. In fact—”
She broke off as the door hissed open. Into the room strode two adults. One of them was Garak, the Cardassian tailor, looking rather unhappy. The other was Odo.
Odo was nice enough, but there was something very spooky about him. He was the station’s constable, in charge of law and order. He always wore a brown uniform and a very severe expression. He looked human enough, in a sort of unfinished way. There weren’t any lines on his face, for example, and his ears didn’t look quite right. His hair looked like it was a wig, and his eyes seemed to be a bit too deeply set. The reason was simple: This was as close to human as Odo could get. He wasn’t actually what he appeared to be. In his natural state he looked like a pool of jelly. But he was able to change his shape into anything he liked, just by concentrating on it.
He always looked grim. Jake supposed that being the policeman on the station wasn’t exactly the sort of job to bring a smile to anyone’s face. Odo looked as if he’d never even learned how to smile—and that was on his good days. Right now he was looking ferocious enough to curdle milk with one glance.
