by Mel Gilden
“Right, Commander.” She touched her situation table here and there. “Go ahead,” she said.
“Attention, please,” Commander Sisko said. Jake could hear his voice rumbling through the station. He imagined Quark and all the other merchants on the Promenade listening and fearful; he imagined Mrs. O’Brien and the others who might be at home in the habitat ring gathering up their pets and children, preparing for the unpleasantness to come.
“As you have certainly noticed,” Sisko went on, “we are experiencing a power shortage. Our science and engineering staff believes they have found a solution to our problems, but it will require us to shut down all station systems for a brief time. This means all station systems, including life-support. All lights will be off, all air recirculators will be non-operational. Gravity and temperature control will be down. This is a drastic measure, and there is some danger involved, but the shutdown will not last long and it is absolutely necessary. We will begin in approximately fifteen minutes. Go to a safe place and stay there until the lights come on again. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Jake was really proud of his father. Though Commander Sisko sometimes got excited, he seemed never to be afraid. He was a good man to have around in a crisis; a good man to admire. Maybe he was right about the “K’lshi: Klingon House of Terror” holosuite program. There would be time for it later, if he and Nog were still interested.
Dax and O’Brien continued to work. Quark and Rom came up, and for once Commander Sisko did not seem inclined to throw them out. Even Odo seemed more sympathetic than usual when he saw Nog reunited with his family.
“Come on, Odo,” Sisko said, “let’s walk the station.”
“Yes, sir,” Odo said and left with the commander.
Jake and Nog sat on the steps that led up to the commander’s office along with Garak, Quark, and Rom. Jake ran his finger across the step he was sitting on and it came away glimmering with golden Keithorpheum dust.
“Is there a Rule of Acquisition that applies here?” Nog asked.
“Yes,” Quark said. “The quality of life aboard the station is better with the lights on!” He gave Nog’s ear a single sharp tug.
After what seemed to be a long time—yet, for Jake’s money, not long enough—O’Brien touched his communication badge. “O’Brien to Sisko.”
“Sisko here.”
“We’re ready, Commander.”
“Things are all secure down here,” Sisko said.
“We’ll be right up. Sisko out.”
A few minutes later, his father and Odo rose aboard the lift. Sisko went to the steps and stood near Jake. Jake reached up and put his hand into his father’s. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he was afraid.
“Begin when ready, Chief,” Sisko said.
O’Brien pushed a few buttons and suddenly the lights went out. Near him, Nog squeaked softly.
Jake floated free of the step he’d been sitting on—he no longer weighed anything. Weightlessness was not so bad except that his stomach had a nervous, floaty feeling. He swallowed and hung on tight to his father’s hand.
Jake had never experienced such absolute darkness. There were no situation lights, no clock faces, no instruments. Not having any light to work with, his eyes produced images of their own-flashing ghost lights, things shimmering just outside his range of vision.
Down on the Promenade they would have starshine coming in through the big windows. He tried to imagine whether the hot points of light would somehow make the darkness seem even more intense.
The silence was not as thick as the darkness, yet it was unusual and frightening. There was no sound of air recirculators, none of the thousands of electronic beeps and boops that normally filled his day from morning till night without him thinking about them once. The emptiness made a pressure against his ears. He found that he could hear Dax—or was it Kira?—tapping fingers on a console. He could hear himself breathing and the breathing of others. He imagined he could hear his heart beating.
“O’Brien,” Sisko called. His voice sounded very loud. It echoed in the big bell of Ops in a way that Jake had never noticed before.
“Sir?” O’Brien said. His voice sounded loud too. Loud and close.
“Let there be light.”
“Aye, sir.”
A second later Jake fell a few inches to the step he had been floating above. His stomach went back where it belonged. Light and noise filled the room, filled the station. Everyone was sitting or standing exactly where they had been. Sisko gripped Jake’s hand lightly, then slowly pulled away. Everything looked so normal Jake could hardly believe that anything had ever been different or wrong. He ran his finger across the step and it came up clean. The Keithorpheum dust was gone.
“How are we doing, Major?” Sisko asked.
Kira was at her situation table. She smiled. “Power availability fifty-five percent and rising.” As she spoke, the lights became brighter, the gravity firmer, the sound of the air recirculators more assured.
“Sixty-two, seventy-five, eighty-seven … ninety-eight percent and holding.”
“Ninety-eight percent,” O’Brien commented. “Not bad for this old Cardassian tub.”
“I want you to run diagnostics on every system on the station,” Sisko said. “I want to make sure everything is functioning properly.”
Kira, Dax, and O’Brien went to work.
Quark and Rom escorted Nog to the lift. “See you, Jake,” Nog called out before they sank out of sight.
“Thank you for believing in me,” Garak said as he approached Commander Sisko.
“Oh, I don’t believe in you,” Sisko said. “I just think we all got lucky this time.”
“Surely, you don’t think—”
“Major,” Sisko called while still glaring at Garak, “do long-range sensors detect any Cardassian ships?”
“No, sir,” Kira said.
“What can I say?” Garak asked as he opened his arms and smiled.
“Say that next time you make a suggestion to my son, you’ll make damned sure it doesn’t endanger the station.”
“I promise. Anything else?”
Sisko shook his head. “You must have a shop to tend to.”
“Of course,” Garak said after studying Sisko for a moment.
Jake followed his father up the stairs and into his office. Sisko found his baseball on the floor and tossed it to Jake. Jake caught it and smiled.
“I’m proud of you, Jake,” Sisko said.
“Proud? I thought I was going to get yelled at. This business with the Nimijks and at least half the trouble with the Keithorpheum was my fault.”
“Yours and Nog’s.”
“Yes.”
Sisko sat down behind his desk, and Jake tossed the ball back to him. “We had trouble, it’s true,” Sisko said as he set the baseball carefully on its stand. “But I like the fact that you admitted your mistakes and took responsibility for your conduct.”
“You do?” Jake asked, astonished by his good fortune.
“And the fact that for a kid who claims he’s not a technical whiz, you did a good job helping us figure out a course of action.”
“Kind of like an adult, huh, Dad?”
“Kind of,” Sisko admitted. “I ask only that next time you and Nog have an urge to explore the station, you come to me first. Maybe with my help you can satisfy your curiosity and avoid disasters too.”
“Thanks, Dad. I will.” He thought for a moment, and then asked a question that had been bothering him. “Do you think Garak knew we’d find that Nimijk figure?”
“The truth is, Jake, I don’t know.”
“Me neither. But he and the Trulgovians don’t seem to be connected, and the Cardassians aren’t attacking.”
“Not this time, anyway,” Sisko agreed. “You find Garak easy to like, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Is that okay?”
“So far. Even Garak is innocent until proven guilty. Just do everyone a favor and think twice before you follow his
suggestions again.”
Jake nodded. He saw an opportunity and he took it. “Um, Dad?”
“Yes, Jake.”
“Now that I’m acting kind of like an adult, can I go play the ‘K’lshi: Klingon House of Terror’ program in a holosuite?”
Jake thought he saw his father smile. But if it happened at all, the smile came and went so quickly that Jake could not be sure.
“No,” Commander Sisko said.
