Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Young Adult Books #9: Cardassian Imps

by Mel Gilden

  “Commander,” Major Kira said, “upper pylon three reports—” She stopped suddenly, a startled expression on her face.

  Sisko had been carrying three more Nimijks up to his office, and was surprised when suddenly his arms were empty. Ops seemed suddenly quiet too, without the gabble of Nimijk voices. Was the light brighter, or was that just his imagination? Fresh, cool air seemed to waft through the big room.

  Dax, O’Brien, and Kira were looking at their readouts, dumbfounded. All three began working their boards hard.

  “What happened?” Sisko asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kira said as she adjusted controls. “Reports are coming in from all over the station. The Nimijks are gone!”

  “Gone where? How?”

  “No idea, Benjamin,” Dax said as she studied her board. “No residue, no tracks, no traces. It’s as if they never were.”

  “More good news, sir,” O’Brien said. “Power output is up seven percent.”

  “That’s great, Chief,” Sisko exclaimed. “How did you do it?”

  “I didn’t.” O’Brien sounded confused as he studied his board. “The bad news is, it’s not going any higher.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Down on level forty-five, the lights were a little brighter than they had been when Jake and Nog arrived with Garak, and Jake thought he could smell warmer, fresher air now and then. The Nimijks were definitely gone—that was the important thing.

  “Why didn’t you do that before?” Jake cried with exasperation. He could not help suspecting that the disappearance of the Nimijks was a Cardassian trick, though he had no idea what such a trick might buy Garak or anybody else.

  “What? Turn off the Nimijk?” Garak chuckled lightly. “You can’t just yell the command into the air. I had to wait till I could speak to the original Nimijk figure.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Nog said. “Where did they go?”

  “Go? Ah, yes.” Garak went up to a wall and studied it minutely as he spoke. “I think I told you the Nimijk is only a toy?” He turned to stare at them intently, looking for confirmation.

  “Suppose you did,” Jake said, trying to remember.

  “Well,” Garak went on, “because it’s a toy, the objects it creates can’t hold their matrix after the power supplied by the replicator is turned off.”

  “I get it,” Jake cried. “The statue sort of holds things together. When you turned it off, the Nimijks fell apart into their component atoms. Like pouring water on a sand sculpture at the beach.”

  “Exactly.” Garak seemed pleased.

  “What if they come back?” Nog asked worriedly.

  “They can’t just appear out of the air,” Jake assured him. “I don’t think they can come back unless we start playing with this Moop statue again.”

  “Give it to me,” Nog said and reached for the toy. “I’ll throw it down a recycling chute.”

  Jake was about to hand over the figure, but he noticed that Garak was watching them with enormous interest. He wished he knew what Garak wanted them to do—and whether he had their best interests at heart. Jake decided to go with his guts.

  “Not yet,” he said. “We might need it.”

  “For what?”

  Jake shook his head. “Don’t you think we might need it?” he asked Garak.

  “I couldn’t say.” Garak said, astonished by the question.

  Jake had a new thought. “Besides, you originally sent us down here because we might find something new that would interest my dad. I think this is it.” He shook the Moop figure at Garak.

  “Of course,” Garak said, apparently pleased. He frowned and shook his head. “But I still don’t understand how the Nimijks got so out of hand. The power of those toys is severely limited. Show me where you found it.”

  “This way,” Nog said and walked down the corridor.

  Garak followed him. Despite his fears, Jake could not see the harm in what Nog was doing, so he followed Garak.

  Nog led them to the empty shop where they’d found the toy. It was much as they’d left it, though the dust was disturbed, and one of the shelving units had fallen over.

  “Looks as if the Nimijks had a party,” Jake said.

  “Perhaps it was the mitz,” Garak said. He glanced at the front window of the shop and laughed out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” Nog asked, irritated that he didn’t know.

  “No wonder we had such trouble with that Nimijk!” Garak cried. “This is a repair shop!”

  They all laughed, but Jake stopped when he realized that while the nature of the shop explained some things, it did not explain everything. “So, the toy was broken, right?”

  “It follows as the night follows the day,” Garak said.

  “And because it was broken,” Jake went on, “the toy could somehow leach power from the station and use it to make the Nimijks.”

  “Correct,” Garak said proudly. “That is certainly why the figure was taken to the repair shop in the first place.”

  “Okay, fine,” Jake continued. “But if you turned off the figure, why is the gravity still light? Why are the lights still low and the air still bad?”

  Garak could not have been more surprised if Jake had thrown a plate of live gagh in his face. “I don’t know,” he said finally. He seemed genuinely bewildered.

  “I think we better get this thing to Ops,” Jake said. “Dad and the others are going to want to have a look at it.”

  “I was hoping you would give it to me,” Garak said. “For sentimental reasons.”

  “What’s it worth to you?” Nog asked.

  Garak laughed again. “You are a Ferengi worth his ears, aren’t you, my boy!”

  He continued to laugh as they walked back down the corridor. Jake carried the toy, somehow not trusting even Nog with it. Nog might impulsively throw it down a recycling chute. And who knew what Garak might do with it? Jake didn’t believe he wanted the figure just for sentimental reasons.

  As they passed the turbolift on their way to the maintenance access duct, Jake noticed that the ready light was dim but on. “Let’s try this,” he said. “Taking the turbolift has to be faster than climbing the maintenance tube again.” He pushed the button.

  Nog could hear the car in the shaft, but it took so long to arrive that even Garak—an actual adult—seemed impatient. A crowd of mitz gathered around them. The door opened at last, and they entered. Jake found himself to be sorry to leave the mitz behind. He’d have to come back here. “Promenade,” he requested. The doors closed, but the car didn’t move.

  “Let me try,” Garak said, and once again barked a word in Cardassian. The car creaked, then began to rise slowly.

  “Pretty good,” Nog said.

  “Oh, Cardassian can be a handy language,” Garak admitted.

  The ride aboard the turbolift took so long, Jake wondered if climbing the maintenance tube might not have been faster after all. The three of them didn’t speak much, though Garak did offer to hold the Nimijk figure if Jake was tired. Jake assured him he was fine.

  The ride seemed even slower because Jake was in a hurry to get to Ops. Garak had apparently turned off the figure, and yet there were still some serious things wrong with the station. He, for one, didn’t want to spend any more time where he couldn’t depend on the power source. Out in space, power meant life. Without power, Deep Space Nine was just a useless metal doughnut.

  Jake felt a lot older when the turbolift arrived at the Promenade level at last. When they got out of the car, they stepped right into the arms of Odo and a security team.

  “Sensors on the turbolift told us you were coming,” Odo said, “but we feared you would never arrive.”

  “Here they are, Odo,” Garak said. “Safe and sound.” He waved and turned to walk away. “I must go see to my store.” A security woman stepped in front of him, and he looked at Odo, stricken. “Surely I’m not under arrest,” Garak said. “The boys will tell you I’m quite innocent.”

  “Inno
cent of what?” Odo asked.

  “Come come, Constable,” Garak said. “When the chief of security takes an interest in my activities, I think I am safe in assuming I am under suspicion for something?”

  Odo smiled as if the effort pained him. “Not under arrest, no,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “But I thought that as a concerned citizen of Deep Space Nine, you would be delighted to accompany me to Ops and answer Commander Sisko’s questions.”

  “Of course,” Garak said. “Delighted. Absolutely.”

  “Can we come too?” Nog asked.

  “I insist on it,” Odo said in a way that Jake found troubling.

  The lift between the Promenade and Ops was as slow as the turbolift they’d ridden earlier, but the trip was much shorter. Also, the air up here was much better than it had been down on level forty-five—though it was still tinged with the smell of alien sweat. When they arrived, Sisko, Dax, and Kira were standing around O’Brien, who was making adjustments to his engineering board and swearing. Sisko beamed, ran to Jake, and embarrassed him by engulfing him in a big hug.

  “Dad,” Jake protested halfheartedly.

  Commander Sisko backed away, and the smile disappeared as if it had never been. Jake knew that look. It meant the welcome was over and he was in big trouble. He was not sure why he was in trouble, but he was certain it had something to do with level forty-five, the Nimijks, and the station’s loss of power.

  “Where have you and Nog been, Jake?” Sisko asked.

  “Level forty-five.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “Looking around. We found this,” he said as he handed the Nimijk statue to his father.

  Sisko turned and showed it to his staff. O’Brien crossed his arms, and Kira looked stern. Even Dax frowned.

  “All right, Garak,” Commander Sisko said angrily, “let’s have it.”

  “It?” Garak asked. “What?”

  “I want you to explain exactly how it happened that creatures looking like this doll badly disrupted the operation of this station.”

  “It’s our fault, Dad,” Jake said. “Mine and Nog’s.”

  Sisko turned back to them. “You have my complete attention,” he said.

  “You see, we found the figure down on level forty-five.”

  “So you said. But you still haven’t explained what you were doing down there. Without permission.”

  Jake and Nog looked at each other. Jake knew the truth would come out sooner or later, but he didn’t want to get Garak in trouble. After all, he hadn’t forced them to go.

  “I suggested they go,” Garak said.

  “Oh really.”

  “They were looking for an adventure, and I thought level forty-five would provide a relatively safe one.”

  “Apparently, you were wrong,” Odo said.

  “A miscalculation. I am very sorry.”

  “You don’t know sorry,” Sisko threatened. “You haven’t seen sorry. Go on, Jake. Explain how it’s your fault that these Nimijks were all over the station.”

  Jake could see they were in for it now. There was no avoiding an explanation. “Nog and I found this statue, and it made things. You just touched the screen and it would make Cardassian food or a ceremonial knife—lots of things.”

  “It was fun,” Nog explained. “Want me to show you?”

  “Not right now, Nog,” Sisko said. “Go on, Jake.”

  “Then we made these Nimijks. We called them Moops because of the noise the toy made when it worked. And then the first Moop—I mean, Nimijk started to make others. Pretty soon level forty-five was crawling with them.”

  “They were everywhere,” Nog agreed. “We climbed the maintenance tube to get away from them. But they beat us to the Promenade.”

  “You don’t say,” Odo commented dryly.

  O’Brien seemed puzzled. “Do you think this toy somehow was able to use station power to make all those Nimijks?”

  “The boys found the figure in a repair shop,” Garak said. “It was probably taken there for that very reason—it was using station power to make its replications.”

  “Fine,” Sisko said. “That explains the Nimijks. But the power conduits are still clogged with Keithorpheum.”

  “Power is still down seventy-five percent,” Kira confirmed. “With life support at that level, the air will get dirtier and dirtier, and gravity will become more erratic. In less than twelve hours the whole station will just grind to a halt.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Kira’s announcement made everybody frown in concentration. Jake and Nog looked around nervously, as if the walls were already closing in.

  “It can’t be the toy’s fault,” Nog said. “Garak turned it off.” He looked at Jake. “Didn’t he?”

  O’Brien stepped forward and ran a tricorder over the figure in Sisko’s hand. “Dead as a post,” O’Brien reported. “But it does contain traces of Keithorpheum.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Kira said. “The stuff is everywhere.”

  A theory formed in Jake’s brain. It all fit! It worked! “Maybe the Keithorpheum infected the figure,” he suggested.

  Everyone looked at Jake with astonishment. Jake tried to smile. Maybe what he’d just said was stupid.

  “That’s brilliant, Jake,” Dax said. “If the Keithorpheum got into the figure’s memory, the figure might have created Keithorpheum the same way it created toys and Nimijks. The Trulgovians didn’t bring it all aboard—just the original sample. The rest of it was made by the figure.”

  “You mean the Keithorpheum clogging our power conduits is not real Keithorpheum but stuff replicated by this toy?” Kira asked. She seemed skeptical.

  “Is that possible, Dax?” Sisko said.

  “I know very little about Cardassian toys,” she said, “but Kira’s argument fits the situation.”

  “Not exactly,” Garak said. “As you yourselves have just proven, the figure is—to use Chief O’Brien’s colorful phrase, ‘dead as a post.’ The things the figure produces can’t hold their matrix without a constant supply of power. The toy can not possibly be the source of our current problem.”

  Once more they were stumped. Sisko set down the figure and looked at his senior staff. Jake was glad that he and Nog no longer seemed to be responsible for the crisis aboard the station. Still, according to Dax, he had been brilliant once. Maybe he could do it again.

  “Unless…” Nog said, and stared at Jake.

  “Unless,” Jake said, “the replicated Keithorpheum is maintaining its matrix by drawing power directly from the power conduits it is clogging.”

  “Exactly what I was about to say,” Nog said.

  “Garak?” Sisko asked.

  Garak seemed surprised to be consulted. “I have no idea,” he said. “I’m only a simple retailer.”

  “Perhaps,” Odo said.

  Kira shook her head. “Replicated Keithorpheum. No wonder we had trouble getting rid of it, even though our equipment was better than the old stuff the Trulgovians had.”

  “No wonder,” Sisko agreed.

  “Jake has a good theory,” Dax said with admiration.

  “There is a way to find out if it’s correct,” O’Brien said. He seemed uncomfortable.

  “I don’t think I’m going to like this,” Kira said.

  “Probably not,” O’Brien agreed. “But it may be our only chance. The only way to stop feeding that Keithorpheum power is to shut down the fusion reactor.”

  “I’m stunned,” Odo commented.

  “As am I, my friend,” Garak said. He sat down.

  “Shutting down the reactor will be a lot of trouble,” Kira said. “Getting it up again will be even more.”

  “We don’t have to shut down the reactor,” Jake said. “We only have to stop power from flowing through the power conduits.”

  “In any case,” Kira explained, “stopping power to the station will mean shutting down all systems—including life support.”

  Jake knew how risky Kira’s sugge
stion was. He’d thought earlier about the effect a lack of power might have on the station, and here they were—in such a fix that they were considering doing it to themselves.

  “We can survive without life support for a few minutes,” Sisko said. “What do you say, Chief?”

  “I say that maybe this was what Garak had in mind all along.”

  “What’s that?” Garak said.

  “Maybe you knew that toy figure was down on level forty-five. When Jake and Nog were looking for something to do, you saw your chance to unleash it.”

  “Unleash it?” Garak asked, seemingly horrified.

  “You knew what the figure could do, and you trusted the curiosity of a couple of kids to start the ball rolling. What’s going to happen once we’re shut down? Will your Cardassian buddies fly in and take over again?”

  “Come come now, Chief,” Garak said. “Isn’t that all a bit circumstantial? Even if I planned and plotted as you suggested, how could I possibly have arranged to have those Trulgovian miners arrive at the exact moment Jake and Nog were looking for a project? Even you must admit the coincidence is absolutely mind-boggling!”

  “I admit nothing,” O’Brien said. “You’re nothing but a—”

  “Chief,” Sisko said quietly.

  O’Brien looked at him, still fuming.

  “Will you answer my question? Can we survive without life-support for a few minutes?”

  “I suppose we can.”

  “Suppose?”

  O’Brien took a deep breath and drew himself up. “We can do it, sir. It’s just a matter of cross-connecting the power conduits with the emergency power dump, but doing it at the reactor end. We’ll shunt everything we have into space.”

  “How long will that take to set up?”

  “Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

  “If everything is down, how will we get the station back on line?”

  O’Brien shrugged. “I’ll rig a fail-safe switch. All I’ll have to do is release it.”

  “Very well. You and Dax get on it.”

  Dax went to stand near O’Brien, who was already making adjustments to his board.

  “Major, open the intercom. I want to talk to everybody on the station.”