Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Young Adult Books #12: Trapped in Time Page 7

  Nog and O’Brien complied, dragging the Changeling and lifting him onto the table.

  “Now step back,” the professor said.

  They did. “Computer. Activate stasis field,” Professor Vance said aloud.

  “Stasis field activated,” came the familiar female computer voice. Do all Federation computers speak with the same voice? Jake wondered. Probably so. Or, at least, every computer he had ever heard.

  O’Brien left the room with Pierre to notify Starfleet. Jake and Nog remained with Professor Vance.

  The professor was doing something in a corner of the room, while Jake kept an eye on the Changeling. He saw that he was waking up.

  The Changeling looked around the room. He touched the edge of the stasis field, and a mild jolt shocked him back to the table.

  The Changeling began to shimmer and dissolve into a golden gelatinous state. Jake had seen Constable Odo do the same thing on Deep Space Nine. How exciting it must be to become anything or anyone you want, he had thought. But then, he began to wonder, if you could do that—would you ever know who you really were?

  Nog stepped toward the stasis field. “He’s going to escape.”

  “Don’t worry,” Professor Vance said as he joined them. “Not even an atom can pass through this stasis field.”

  And, Jake saw, the professor was right. After trying to dissolve through the field, the Changeling gave up and returned to the humanoid state of Monsieur Jean.

  Professor Vance stepped over to the edge of the stasis field. He had the time portal device in his hand. He showed it to the Changeling. “You tried to use my invention to change the history of my world.”

  “But he failed,” Jake said.

  “Yes. But others will try, and they may succeed.” The professor looked at the device in his hand. “Temporal anomalies happen. But to be able to travel the time stream at will is something still too dangerous to allow into the wrong hands.”

  “Starfleet will take care of your invention,” Nog said.

  “Perhaps. But even in the hallowed halls of Starfleet are those who might misuse such power.”

  “But,” Jake interrupted, “you’ve invented the device. How can you un-invent it?”

  “Like this,” Professor Vance said. He activated the time device, and a portal began to open.

  “Professor!” O’Brien shouted as he entered the room, accompanied by two Starfleet security guards.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Sending this where it won’t do any more harm—five million years back into Earth’s past.”

  Before O’Brien could stop him, the professor hurled the time device through the portal. It vanished.

  O’Brien rushed toward the portal, but Jake stopped him. “I don’t think you want to go through there.”

  O’Brien hesitated. “You’re right, Jake. Five million years ago isn’t a good place to visit.”

  Then the Portal closed—forever.

  Two days later Jake and Nog walked through the grassy plaza of Starfleet Academy. The early fog had burned off the bay, and it was turning into another bright San Francisco morning.

  “Starfleet is not happy with Professor Vance for shutting down his experiment,” Nog said.

  “Time travel is still going to be with us,” Jake replied. “In spite of what Professor Vance did. There have already been several temporal disturbances in this decade. Enough to cause the Federation to create a Department of Temporal Investigations.”

  “Which reminds me,” Nog said. “I have an appointment with them in an hour.”

  “I’ve been told to expect a visit from them after I return to Deep Space Nine,” Jake said.

  They had walked to a green bluff overlooking the Academy and the bay beyond. Sailboats rode the waves, while hovercraft floated overhead. Jake always liked this city and enjoyed visits here with his parents when he was growing up. In some ways he was almost jealous of Nog’s Academy experience here.

  But Starfleet was not for him. Even his father knew that and no longer prodded Jake.

  “Time to go,” Jake said reluctantly. “Chief O’Brien is finished with the modifications to the Defiant, and we’re headed back to Deep Space Nine.”

  “I’m going to miss you, Jake,” Nog said. He seemed on the verge of getting sentimental—and Ferengi never get sentimental.

  “I’ll miss you, too, Nog.”

  “Hey. It’s not forever,” Nog said. “My sophomore year starts in a few months. I’ll have a field assignment. Maybe it will be on Deep Space Nine.”

  “That would be great,” Jake said.

  They shook hands, and then, in a kind of awkward moment, they hugged. Nog turned and walked away toward the towering spires of Starfleet Academy. Even if Nog did come to Deep Space Nine for a duty tour, it would never be quite the same as it was. I guess that’s the hard part of growing up, Jake thought.

  Jake hurried to meet O’Brien at the transporter station. Earth was nice, but it was good to be going home to Deep Space Nine.

  But when Jake arrived, he was informed that their immediate destination was not the Defiant. “A slight detour,” O’Brien said as he ushered Jake onto the transporter platform. “A friend of mine has asked to meet you.”

  Before Jake could ask who the friend was, they were enveloped in the beam and had arrived in the transporter room of a starship.

  It could have been any Starfleet ship, but when Jake saw the man in the commander’s uniform who was waiting for them, he knew instantly where he was even before the man spoke.

  “Welcome to the Enterprise,” invited Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

  CHAPTER 13

  Earth, France, 24th Century

  Jake had seen the U.S.S. Enterprise once before. It was the starship that had brought the first runabouts to Deep Space Nine. But, he remembered, that Enterprise, the NCC-1701D, had been destroyed. This was the new Enterprise-E. But Jean-Luc Picard was still her captain.

  “If you don’t mind, Jake … may I call you Jake?”

  Jake nodded. Captain Picard stepped forward onto the transporter platform. As if it had been previously choreographed, O’Brien stepped off the platform. “We could go to my quarters,” Picard said. “But I have another place in mind for our meeting.”

  Picard raised his hand, and the transporter officer keyed in the coordinates. Jake and Picard beamed off the Enterprise to…

  “This is Provence,” Picard said as they materialized in late afternoon in a sunny vineyard on a gentle slope in the rural French countryside.

  Jake breathed in the sweet summer air. This was France, but it was far removed from the chilly marshes of Normandy.

  “That is my home.” Captain Picard pointed to a white house in the valley that surrounded the vineyards. It was not fancy, but it seemed like a castle compared to the little cottage where Brigitte had lived. Suddenly Jake wondered if that cottage was still there, then thought that the notion was silly. Even if it had somehow managed to survive the war, there was no way it could have withstood the onslaught of the centuries between then and now.

  “Or it was my home,” Picard corrected as he started down the hill. “Until I left to wander the stars.”

  Halfway down the hillside, Picard paused. He reached down and pulled a single grape from a vine, staring at it as if it were pure latinum. “But my roots will always be here, just like these vines. I was born here, and, God willing, this is where I’ll come to die.”

  They continued the rest of the way to the house in silence. Jake enjoyed the warm day and pleasant surrounds, but he wondered why Captain Picard had brought him here.

  Entering the house, Picard explained that his sister-in-law was away, which accounted for the house being empty. Picard went straight into the library, and Jake followed.

  It was, Jake observed, a well-used library. The books on the shelves showed wear. Not the wear of neglect but that of having been read and reread many times. Many of the books were old, some very old. There was a history here that tol
d of a land and a family.

  “Our family history has always been important to the Picards. When my brother and his son died in a fire last year…” Picard’s voice broke momentarily as he recalled the terrible event. “It was in the winery. Somehow a blaze started. Robert and Rene tried to put it out. My brother was so old-fashioned … he hated technology. Robert never installed a suppression system. They were trapped … burned to death.”

  “I’m sorry.” It was all Jake could say.

  “My brother and I never got along. He was the traditionalist. Continuing the Picard family line was so important to him.” Picard looked at Jake. “You know there was a Picard who fought at Trafalgar … and Picards who settled the first Martian colony. When Robert married and had a son, well, I no longer felt a need to carry on the family line.” Picard paused, looked around the room. “Now the responsibility has fallen upon my shoulders to continue our line. It is a burden I did not wish.”

  Picard stepped over and removed one particular book from the shelf. He handed it to Jake.

  The book was Victor Hugo’s novel of the French Revolution, Les Misérables. It was a rather plain-looking book and was extremely old. But special care had been taken to preserve it from the ravages of time.

  “My ancestor settled here in the middle of the twentieth century. From that point on, this place became the Picard home. We’ve been here for centuries.”

  Jake held the book, not quite sure what to do with it or what to say. Picard stepped over to the wall where there was a group of pictures. Even at a distance, Jake could tell that it was a kind of family collage.

  “This was Robert Picard,” Picard said as he pointed to a photograph of a young man and woman. “He was the one who came here first. My brother is named for him.”

  Jake looked at the picture, not at the man but at the woman. The photograph was faded and slightly out of focus, but still he recognized her instantly. “Brigitte.”

  “Brigitte Picard. She married Robert shortly after Earth’s Second World War, and they moved here.”

  Now Jake opened the book. He saw an inscription on the title page: To Jake, for giving us all a future. Love always and forever, Brigitte.

  Jake’s eyes moistened, and the words blurred. Captain Picard’s voice suddenly seemed distant. “She wrote you a note. It’s been passed down from generation to generation—until now.”

  Picard opened a desk drawer, took out a small envelope, and handed it to Jake. It was sealed. “Read it later. On your way back on the Defiant.”

  “You don’t want to know what it says?” Jake asked as he slid the envelope into the book.

  “The words in there belong to you. I, and my family, are only the messengers. This was inside another envelope. It had yesterday’s date on it. No one in the family had any idea what it meant, but we waited, until now. The instructions inside are the reason I had Chief O’Brien beam you to the Enterprise.”

  Jake opened his mouth, but there were no words. He knew he should say something but didn’t know what to say. Picard raised his hand, as if understanding Jake’s predicament. “Don’t say anything now. Later, if you like, we can talk.”

  “Thank you,” was what Jake finally said.

  “No, Mister Sisko. It’s you I have to thank. You may have helped to save the future from tyranny, but in a way, that seems almost unimportant. You saved the life of a young French girl four centuries ago—and thereby saved the lives of my family and myself.”

  EPILOGUE

  Deep Space Nine, Alpha Quadrant,

  Three Weeks later

  That’s quite a story,” Dulmur said when Jake had finished.

  “Indeed,” Lusly commented.

  “It’s everything as I remember,” Jake said. Well, not exactly everything, he thought. He had left off the part about Captain Picard and the letter from Brigitte. He didn’t think it was important to the course of history, and, besides, it really wasn’t any of their business.

  Dulmur looked at Lusly. “I think we have everything.”

  “Indeed,” Lusly replied.

  Dulmur looked at Jake. “Thank you for your time, Mister Sisko.”

  “We will enter your statement into the temporal archives,” Lusly added.

  Afterward, when the two Temporal policemen had left Deep Space Nine, Jake went to his favorite perch above the Promenade, where he and Nog used to sit for hours observing the ever-changing flow of humans and aliens below. And through the huge windows on the other side of the Promenade, they could watch the ships leaving the station, bound for distant starports in the Gamma Quadrant on the other side of the Bajoran wormhole.

  This was the place they came to dream about what was to be. And it was here that Jake now came to think and to write.

  And to read. He took the note from Brigitte out of his pocket. He had already read it several times, but here, in this place, it seemed appropriate to read it again.

  Dearest Jake,

  When, and if, you read this, centuries will have passed between my world and yours. The terrible war is now over. My only hope, as we move forward into our future, is that such an evil thing will never happen again. But whatever fate befalls me, I will always remember you.

  All my love and affection,

  Brigitte

  Jake folded the note neatly and tucked it back into his pocket. He knew, from what Captain Picard had told him, that Brigitte’s fate had been a good one.

  Now he raised his eyes to look out at the vast starscape spreading beyond the space station, and he looked forward with anticipation to his own future.

  About the Author

  TED PEDERSEN began his career writing programs for computers in Seattle before making the long trek south to Los Angeles to write for TV. He has authored more than one hundred episodes for such landmark animation series as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Exosquad, X-Men, and Mummies. More recently he started writing books, and these include Internet for Kids, The Tale of the Virtual Nightmare in the Are You Afraid of the Dark? series, and three previous Deep Space Nine YA novels, The Pet, Gypsy World, and Space Camp. He is currently working on his next contribution to the series. When not out wandering the World Wide Web, Ted hangs out in Venice, California, with his wife, Phyllis, and their menagerie of cats and computers.

  About the Illustrator

  TODD CAMERON HAMILTON is a self-taught artist who has resided all his life in Chicago, Illinois. He has been a professional illustrator for the past ten years, specializing in fantasy, science-fiction, and horror. Todd is the current president of the Association of Science Fiction and Fantasy Artists. His original works grace many private and corporate collections. He has coauthored two novels and several short stories. When he is not drawing, painting, or writing, his interests include metalsmithing, puppetry, and teaching.