Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Young Adult Books #7: Gypsy World Read online

  “How close behind us are Kala and the others?” Jake asked.

  “Close enough that we have to start moving,” Vija replied.

  “I’m glad you followed us,” Jake told her. “But aren’t you breaking Fjori tradition by helping us?”

  “Perhaps, a little. But this test is really unfair, and you deserve what you Terrans call ‘a level playing field.’”

  Nog looked up at the sky and the mountains beyond. “It will be dark before we reach the mountains.” Jake looked up at the sun and saw from its position that it was almost noon. He hadn’t realized that his injury had lost them at least a precious hour.

  “Yes,” Vija agreed with Nog. “Starting at dawn there would have been time. Now we will have to spend the night in the swamp.”

  “The swamp?” Jake questioned. “Didn’t you tell us that we should avoid taking that path?”

  “Yes. I did, and we should. But we have no choice now.”

  As they started to move out, Jake noticed that even Vija’s self-confidence was somewhat shaken by the prospect of traveling through the swamp at night. What, he wondered, is waiting for us in there?

  CHAPTER 11

  Vija knew a short cut down the backside of the canyon. Jake realized that she must have undertaken the ritual herself, not many years ago.

  “Did you go through the swamp on your trek?” Jake asked as they crossed the broad plateau. He knew they could still use an alternate route.

  “No,” Vija admitted. “But I have visited the place with my father,” she added quickly. “I know the dangers and how to avoid them.”

  “Won’t Kala follow us into the swamp?” Nog wondered.

  “No. He will think that a gajo would not dare attempt such a route. He would also believe that you would never leave the swamp if you entered.”

  At that moment, in the canyon, that was exactly what Kala and the trackers believed as they followed the trail. Trax, who lead the trackers, decided to break into two teams. “One will follow the plateau to the mountains, and I will lead three men along the old riverbed.”

  “And what if they take the swamp?” someone asked.

  Kala laughed. “Then that is their bad luck. However,” he said to Trax, “there is an easier way to catch the gajos.”

  “Which is?”

  “To set a trap for them—just in case they reach the nest of the Graf.”

  “Kala, you’re beginning to think like a dirtsider,” Trax barked. “That is not the Fjori way. We track them as the ritual demands.”

  Kala nodded. “You’re right. The test must be fair—even for gajos.”

  The swamp was not quite what Jake had expected. It was not wetlands, but more like mudlands. Geysers spit up hot ash and smoke, and it was like walking through the aftermath of a volcanic eruption. The trees that remained were gnarled and twisted and petrified into stone. Purple weeds crawled along the hot earth and occasionally clustered into dense forest patches. Vija took special care to avoid those places where the weeds were thickest. Jake asked her why.

  “The weeds are like the web of the Hjono spider. A few are no problem, but when they join in clusters they can squeeze the life of an animal—or a person.”

  “Killer weeds,” Nog mumbled to himself. He wondered if there might be a market for such foliage, which would make great watchplants when they got back to Deep Space Nine. If they got back, he corrected himself as they walked deeper into this forbidding landscape.

  It had been two hours since they entered the swamp. Vija said it would take five hours to cross. Looking up at the sky, Jake estimated they had another hour, perhaps two, before sunset.

  “Wouldn’t it be better to continue and camp when we’re past the swamp?” Jake asked.

  Vija shook her head. “No. It is too dangerous to travel through here in darkness. We might run into a pviat.” The way she spoke the word made Jake feel that the last thing he would want to encounter in the darkness would be a pviat, whatever that was.

  They paused at a small sinkhole and Vija was able to filter enough water to fill her container. They each had several swallows. It tasted terrible, but Vija said it was safe to drink, and their thirst overcame their reservations.

  When it was almost sunset, Vija stopped and pointed off to the left. “That is where we will stay the night.”

  It was an indentation in the ground surrounded on three sides by purple weeds. “I thought we should avoid those things,” Nog said.

  “Those are not the same as the others. See the roots. These are weak and will not entangle us.”

  Jake looked, but he wasn’t certain he could tell the difference. As he followed Vija into the open area, some of the weeds seemed to reach out for him, but it was a feeble attempt. Still, he did not like the thought of spending the night surrounded by something that was like a web of a Hjono spider.

  Once the trio was settled inside the area, Vija took out her knife and cut three large leaves from a brownish shrub that grew near the roots of the purple weeds. She handed one leaf to Jake, another to Nog, and kept the third. “Dinner.”

  Jake looked at the strange leaf, which felt rather slimy as he held it. “I’m not much of a salad eater.”

  Vija took a bite of the leaf and swallowed quickly. “It will nourish you. Eat.”

  Jake followed her example and bit off a piece from his leaf. It tasted even worse than it looked, but he managed to gulp it down. Somehow he finished off almost all the leaf. Nog, who was not as selective in his choice of diet, devoured his leaf. Then he ate what Jake had left of his.

  Darkness came quickly when the sun set. The three of them sat back-to-back-to-back so that they could share body warmth and be able to see danger that might stalk them from any direction.

  It turned out to be a long night. There were strange noises from things that moved through the swamp. Once, Jake thought he saw something running past them, but he was half asleep and wasn’t certain.

  Neither Jake or Nog slept all that well, and when the first traces of dawn’s light fell over the swamp, they were anxious to move on.

  As they started to exit their camping area, Jake noticed Vija picking up something from the ground. “What’s that?” he asked.

  Vija showed him a small round crystal. It was blue-white and vibrated. “This is a bumper. It emits sounds that are programmed to keep pviats and other creatures at a distance.”

  “You should have told us we had nothing to worry about,” Nog said.

  “I could have. But then you would not have stayed alert.” Vija pocketed the crystal. “Besides, the bumper does not always work.”

  Two hours later they left the swamp and were standing at the base of the mountains. Vija pointed to a peak two hundred meters above them. “There is a Graf nest up there. I will wait for you near the dry river.” She proceeded to scratch out a crude map in the dirt.

  Jake and Nog then started toward the rocks. It was a steep ascent, but there were plenty of handholds and resting points, so it would not be too difficult a climb. Vija watched them until they were about a quarter of the way to their destination, then turned and started off toward their rendezvous place.

  As predicted, Jake found the climb wasn’t particularly difficult, but it was tiring and they rested every dozen meters or so. Finally, the peak was in sight.

  “Let’s hope that no one’s home,” Nog said, wanting to get this over with as fast as possible and return to solid ground.

  Suddenly a shadow swooped over them. They ducked and Jake nearly lost his balance. Circling the peak above them they saw what must be the Graf.

  A prehistoric flying dinosaur from Old Earth was what came to Jake’s mind. The Graf was the size of the California condors he had seen in school’s nature program, with great leathery wings, sharp talons, and a bone-crushing beak. A formidable obstacle, Jake thought as he wondered how they were going to get past.

  Fortunately, they were just below the peak, where the rocks slanted inward, and the Graf hid not seen them
. But it would certainly spot them when they ventured closer to its nest.

  “I’m not sure this is worth it,” Nog said. “I prefer Ferengi rituals. You might lose a fortune, but not your life.”

  “We’ve come too far to quit,” Jake replied with as much bravery as he could muster. “Put some of that Ferengi smartness to work. We need a plan.”

  “That’s simple. One of us has to be bait, while the other grabs a feather.”

  “And I suppose you want me to be the bait?”

  Nog shook his head. “No. I’ll do it, while you go for the nest.”

  Jake was surprised at Nog’s choice, until he realized, that Nog could take cover from the Graf in a cavity in the rock a few meters below them. He, on the other hand, would have to climb quickly, grab a feather from the nest, and return before the Graf spotted him—without the benefit of shelter.

  But he was the better climber and Nog’s plan did make sense. He didn’t have to like it.

  Nog lowered himself down to the cavity, made certain he was protected, then began yelling loudly.

  It didn’t take long for the Graf to come swooping down toward Nog. The bird, more curious than aggressive, zoomed past where Jake was hiding. He was amazed at the size of the bird close up. For a moment, he thought about giving up the test, then began climbing as fast as he could.

  Jake did not look back to see if Nog was keeping the Graf occupied. He really didn’t want to know, and so he concentrated on crossing the last few meters to the nest as quickly as possible.

  Inside the nest were three oval eggs about the size of baseballs. How could anything that big hatch from anything that small? he wondered. But he didn’t pause to reflect on the marvels of nature. He reached into the nest and scooped up a single feather.

  Jake was just starting down when a whoosh of wings made him realize he was no longer alone—the Graf, obviously tired of playing games with Nog, was coming straight at him.

  Tucking the feather inside his tunic, Jake jumped down to the ledge below and, misjudging the distance, slipped off—and tumbled out into space.

  Frantically, Jake reached out for something—for anything. The first rock he grabbed onto broke away, but it slowed his fall just enough so that the next ledge he hit he was able to hang onto.

  Barely. For as his fingers dug into the loose stone, Jake could feel himself slipping. Then, when he was about to lose his grip, a hand closed around his wrist.

  Nog was on the ledge, trying to pull him up. With a final burst of effort, Jake pushed against the mountain wall and vaulted up onto the ledge.

  “Can’t you ever do anything the easy way?” Nog chided once they were safe.

  “The Graf?” Jake asked.

  Nog pointed to the sky above the peak as Jake looked up and saw the great reptilian bird circling high in the sky over its nest, no longer interested in them.

  “The feather?” Nog asked.

  Jake reached under his tunic, afraid for a moment he had lost what they had come so far to find, but it was still there. “This is our ticket home,” he said, showing it to Nog, then tucked it away again. “Now let’s go find Vija.”

  Their spirits high from their success, they made the climb down in half the time it had taken them to reach the peak. They were almost giddy with excitement as they made their way to the dry river where Vija promised to meet them.

  Eden’s sun was low in the sky when they arrived at their destination. But Vija was not there. Instead someone else was waiting for them—Kala. And in his hand, aimed directly at them, was a phaser.

  CHAPTER 12

  Game’s over and you lose,” Kala said with a smile as he fingered the phaser he held menacingly in his hand.

  “How’d you find us?” Nog wanted to know.

  Kala pulled a long-range scope from his belt. “I was following you all the way up the mountain from a distance.”

  “You’re not supposed to be using that,” Jake said angrily.

  “You play by your rules, I’ll play be mine. What matters is that a couple of gajos like you don’t pass the ritual.”

  “Even if you have to resort to a phaser,” Jake retorted.

  Kala looked at the weapon in his hand, then slowly knelt and set it on the ground. “I don’t need this to defeat you two.”

  Nog, taking a fighting stance, stepped forward, but Jake held him back. “No, Nog. This is between Kala and me.”

  “So it is,” Kala said, and he walked toward Jake. Jake, trying to remember the Klingon fighting techniques he had practiced in the holosuites back on Deep Space Nine, met him halfway. The two circled each other, sizing up the other’s strengths and weaknesses.

  Kala was older, with a distinct weight advantage, and he was obviously streetwise. That was part of the Fjori mystique. On the other hand, Jake was the son of a Starfleet officer and had been taught to avoid a confrontation whenever possible, but to know how to win when a fight was the only way out.

  Suddenly Kala swung out his right arm and threw an almost clumsy punch, which Jake easily avoided. But what he didn’t avoid, or anticipate, was Kala’s left leg striking like a snake and smashing into his leg. Kala hit the spot where Jake had been gashed by the beast in the cave. Kala saw the potential weak spot and went after it.

  Sharp waves of pain stung Jake and he momentarily lost balance. Kala kicked again, this time catching Jake in the stomach and doubling him over as he collapsed to the ground on his knees.

  Hurt and dizzy, Jake sensed Kala moving in for the final blow. But as the Fjori’s fist slammed down toward the back of his neck, Jake willed himself to move—and rolled out of the path, Kala’s fist connecting with thin air.

  The Fjori whirled for another attack—just as Jake threw himself head first into Kala and the two tumbled backward onto the ground. Realizing that he was no match for Kala’s kick-boxing offense, Jake determined to use the Ferengi wrestling techniques Nog had taught him. Ferengis are a small race, and not noted for their speed and dexterity, so they have learned to rely on a close-contact wrestling strategy that uses their opponents’ weak points.

  Kala, the stronger of the two, rolled Jake onto his back and tried to pin him. But that was exactly what Jake had anticipated, and he struck Kala just below the armpit with his open left hand. The Fjori’s neck snapped back, and Jake pushed him off and then grasped the Fjori’s neck in a very vulnerable spot.

  “Give up,” Jake commanded.

  Kala tried to struggle, but Jake’s hold was firm. A quick twist and Kala would have been unconscious, but Jake didn’t want that. “Give up,” he said again, increasing the pressure.

  “Yield.” Kala had enough. “I yield.”

  Jake released Kala and jumped back. There was a moment as the flush returned to the Fjori when it appeared he would resume the battle, then that moment passed. “You fought me bravely and won, Jake Sisko. I do not like to lose, especially to a gajo, but this victory is yours.”

  Nog came over and grabbed Jake’s arm. “Come on, Jake. We need to get moving before the rest of the trackers get here.”

  “Your friend’s right,” Kala said. “I took a shortcut because I knew you’d come this way. They are close behind me.”

  “So let’s go,” Nog urged.

  “We can’t,” Jake said. “Not until we find Vija.”

  “Vija?” Kala jumped to his feet. “What are you talking about?”

  “She was supposed to meet us here,” Jake said.

  “She helped you on the ritual?” Kala demanded.

  Jake nodded. “I guess we both cheated a little.”

  Kala was suddenly upset. “She is in danger.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because—I set a trap. I expected you two to fall into it. But she must have taken the path ahead of you—and become the victim.”

  Twilight lasts on Eden for only minutes. It was already dark as the three made their way back toward the mountains. Fortunately, there was moonlight and Kala’s scope had a night vision le
ns.

  “What kind of trap did you set?” Jake asked Kala.

  “A simple one. This area is full of sand pits.”

  “I know. Vija told us. You can tell them by the light-colored ground.”

  “Yes. But I covered several of them with regular dirt. They would not be noticed, particularly by someone who is in a hurry.”

  “So Vija could have fallen into one of them.”

  “She must have. But she should be all right. It would difficult to climb out, but not impossible. I only wanted to slow you down so you would not get back in time.”

  Jake started to say something unpleasant to Kala, but Nog had made a discovery. “Over here.”

  They ran to where Nog was standing. The ground at his feet was a mixture of light-colored and and darker dirt. Lying at the very edge was the crystal device that Vija called a bumper. “Vija’s buried in there,” Jake shouted.

  “The pit was deeper than I thought,” Kala wailed. “She couldn’t get out before it pulled her down.”

  Jake recalled what Vija had told him about the sand pits. If you fell into one, she said, you pushed yourself to the edge where there the ground was solid and climbed up. The sand was porous and you would be able to breathe for—he forgot how long she had said.

  “She’s in there and we have to go after her.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “No.” Jake refused to believe that. He ran over and pulled some leathery vines from the bushes that clung to the rocks. “Help me.”

  “What’re you doing?” Nog wondered, even as he helped pull out some vines.

  Jake began to tie the vines together. “The pit must expand underground. It’s probably too wide for Vija to reach the edge. Someone’s going to have to pull me out.” Jake tied one end of the vine around his waist.

  Kala was now helping, and they had several meters length of vine. “I hope this is long enough,” Nog said.

  “I only hope it holds together,” Jake replied, then stepped into the sand pit and began to sink into the liquidlike ground.