Chapter Three

For John, it had felt like an eternity had passed since their arrival at the commerce planet, but in reality it had only been a couple of hours. Everything crept by so slowly, ever since Gilina's death. He closed his eyes, thinking of the Peacekeeper technician who had died because of him. What a waste of an intelligent, caring, and beautiful woman. He sighed, squeezing his eyes more tightly shut, as if that alone would keep his guilt and rage from engulfing him completely.

It would be easier to think of his pain as simple grief for Gilina's death, but he knew it was more than that, much more. Scorpius and his damned Aurora chair had almost done him in. It probably would have if it hadn't been for . . . there, the grief was back like a sledgehammer inside his heart. He leaned forward, gasping for air, but all he could see was Gilina's lips as they parted with her last breath.

Don't think about it, he told himself as he straightened in his chair. Don't think about her.

He grunted in disgust. Easy to say, impossible to do. Even if he didn't think about Gilina, the flashbacks he was having from the chair were enough to incapacitate him. The Aurora chair had effectively broken through his mental barriers without mercy and essentially raped his mind. The physical demand associated with such an experience was extensive. His body still ached in its aftermath, but his spirit ached more.

He heard a noise and looked up to see Chiana smiling at him. Where had she come from? More and more, Chi reminded him of a cat in the way she moved, all stealth and sureness tied up in the form of one petite, but very sexy woman.

He took a quick breath and blinked. She said something to him that he didn't listen to, but her body language revealed the nature of her unheard words. Chi appeared to be flirting with him in a relaxed easygoing style, but John knew better.

She was hovering over him just as she'd done ever since they'd returned to Moya, hovering with frustration and he knew why – he wasn't responding to her attempts to help him. Seriously, for someone who had survived by her wits, Chiana could be pretty dense sometimes. John didn't want to hurt her feelings, but if she didn't back off soon, he was going to say something he'd regret.

When she reached for the razlak, he didn't stop her. The truth was he could use a drink, he just hadn't taken the time to open the bottle yet. Chiana began talking again, this time about the wayfarers. He sighed. Why hadn't he just told the others to go to hell when they were readying to go planetside?

Then he sighed again. What a stupid question, because he knew exactly why he'd gone with them – he didn't wanted to be left alone on the great Leviathan. Well, he wouldn't have been entirely alone. Pilot would have been there with him, but Pilot wouldn't have been in his face like the others. With them gone from the ship, he'd have been truly alone with himself and that thought made him shudder. A town packed with people was much preferable over his memories and those damned flashbacks.

"Pilot said there were a lot of people here, but I didn't think he meant this many. What was it again that they are doing?"

Chiana waited for him to answer her question.

"A sacred pilgrimage," he said quietly, surprising himself that he knew the answer so readily. He hadn't really been listening to her.

His reply didn't seem to satisfy her. She craned her neck in that odd manner of movement she had as she went silent, and then she went off on a tangent that only Chiana could accomplish. "But Pilot said a lot of the wayfarers die every year on this sacred pilgr-pilgr...however the hezmana you say it. I'll never understand religions that make you think you have to die for a holy cause. In my book, God would never want you to suffer like that, but then again, I've never really had that many conversations with God."

John took a deep breath. Maybe Chiana was right, maybe God didn't mean for his people suffer and sacrifice. Maybe it was only men like Scorpius who carried out such horrors in the name of more divine pursuits. John flinched at the thought of Scorpius, and he could almost hear the Peacekeeper's voice whisper into his ear. "I'm not done with you yet, Crichton. You may have a short respite, but rest assured, you will eventually tell me everything you know about worm holes."

John squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of Scorpius and he clamped down on his emotions until the Peacekeeper fled his thoughts. When he opened his eyes again, Chiana looked like she was about to call Zhaan over to help. John's thumbnail toyed with a loose edge of the label on the bottle of razlak as he picked it up. "Pip, stop worrying about me, I'm fine. Besides, you don't make a very good Mother Theresa."

He grunted as he rolled his eyes. "Hell, Mother Theresa probably just turned over in her grave when I said that. You're not known for modesty or restraint or any of the other things nuns for known for. You're an amazing woman, Chi, but you just don't fit the bill."

The next thing he knew a series of explosions sounded from out on the street and pandemonium broke out all around him. He moved without thinking, rising to his feet, drawing his weapon, as did Chiana. He glanced over to where Zhaan had been and was relieved to see her looking for them, then his gaze went to the front windows and doors, and the chaos outside.

The explosions started coming faster and were getting closer, though they didn't seem to carry much of a blast – they were more noise than power. The windows rattled some, but nothing fell from the walls or tabletops. Looking back at the people still inside, John could see the panic among the wayfarers was quickly escalating. He waved at Zhaan to wait for them. Within a few moments, they were together, though they had to shout to be heard over the din of the emptying saloon.

"We need to find Aeryn and D'Argo," Zhaan shouted.

John nodded and pointed. "The back door."

They forced their way out the rear entrance, along with the departing wayfarers. Once there, they didn't see any more clues as to what was behind the blasts, except the wayfarers were fleeing the area as fast as they could, and there was a sudden wind that had came up while they'd been inside, blowing dust in its wake.

Numerous transport vehicles filled with people and possessions started up and moved down the alleyways with reckless speed. Some of the vehicles had animal transports attached to the rear and they swayed ominously as they left. John stopped in a secluded alcove in the alley and spoke into his comms. "Aeryn, D'Argo, where are you?"

Chiana and Zhaan waited beside him. There was no response at first and then when the reply came, it was garbled. "...can't hear...too much..."

"Crap," John cursed as he turned his face away from the wind.

Zhaan spoke into her comms, "D'Argo, Aeryn, please respond."

The next message was even more distorted than before. Chiana tried hers. "Pilot, can you read us?"

All they got was static from Moya, not even indiscernible words.

"It's the wind," John said simply. "It's kicking up too much silitron dust in the atmosphere. The comms will be useless."

He felt antsy. They had more pressing problems than inoperative comms. The blasts were coming closer and the cold wind was getting stronger. They holstered their weapons and stepped out of the alleyway and looked into the streets of Nelleb in confusion.

There were some injured coming down the unpaved street now, but those injured were only among the wayfarers. Some were on foot, others on transports, all chased by the rising winds. A few of the injuries looked fairly serious, but the travelers didn't linger. They just gathered up their wounded kinsmen and moved on. Some of the animal transports must have broken free, because there were herd animals galloping through the streets now.

A female wayfarer with a baby clutched to her chest had a little girl running beside her as they moved. The girl held onto a fistful of her mother's skirt. Another blast a few streets over startled the girl and she went face first into the dirt. Her mother had been moving fast and it was a moment before she realized the girl wasn't at her side any longer.

Three heavy camel-like creatures came stampeding down the street, probably spooked by the high winds and loud noises, and were headed directly for the girl. The risk she would be trampled was very real. In the next split second, John looked back at the creatures and moved. He scooped up the child as he ran across the street, and then dove, rolling with her toward the safety of a parked transport, but their momentum stopped just short of the vehicle. Without enough time to get under it, John crouched against the transport, shielding the girl with his body, but the animals were too close and going too fast.

One of the beast's hooves clipped John on the shoulder as it galloped by. John grunted, the pain stealing his breath as he held the girl tightly in his arms. Once the thundering creatures passed, John let out a long breath and tried to move his left arm, but the shoulder was still too stunned by the impact and the limb refused to move.

The girl began to squirm and cry. John loosened his hold on her, lightly brushing his lips across the top of her head. "Shush, it's okay, you're safe now."

He brushed the dirt from her face with his good hand. The terrified mother appeared at John's side and grabbed the girl's arm, yanking her away from John. "You may have saved my daughter, but Danifa was the one watching over her. Remember that! Danifa can forgive you all for this devilry, but I won't!"

Then she ran down the street in tears, dragging the crying child behind her. John held his shoulder and rocked for a moment before he tried to stand. He'd had worse injuries before, remembering both times he dislocated his shoulder, yet that didn't stop this one from hurting like hell. His knees went out from under him, and he would have hit the dirt if it hadn't been for Zhaan catching him.

She held tightly to him as she asked, "How are you? What damage was done?"

John shook his head. "I don't think it did much, except it hurts like the dickens and I can't move my arm."

With Zhaan's help, he stood, but his hand never left his aching shoulder. Chiana met his gaze with a worried look, but then Zhaan nodded in a way that said he was okay. Chiana relaxed a bit. To tell the truth, the shoulder didn't feel okay; in fact, it hurt like crazy, but John knew that would pass quickly enough.

Besides, there were other distractions going on around him. The city's inhabitants were still heckling the fleeing wayfarers as they left. "Leave and don't come back, you freaks!" shouted an angry man nearby.

Chiana looked in the man's direction and stepped closer. He wore the grimy overalls of the miner's class. Along with his cap, it all blended together to give the appearance that the heavyweight man had no neck. Once again, Chiana's curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "What did they do?"

The man grunted. "They came here!" He laughed at his comment and looked to Chiana as if she should join in. He leaned closer. "These freaks clog up our town every year and we're tired of it. It's time to take back what's ours."

Chiana's shoulders straightened as if she was offended and about to say something ugly just as John and Zhaan joined them. Zhaan stepped in front of Chiana and asked, "Is there another route for them to go?"

"No, but that's their problem, not mine."

Someone gathered in the group of townspeople whooped and said, "In a few hours, the next group of wayfarers comes through, and we can do it again! If the Katarrahs are still blowing, the idiots will get so turned around, they won't know if they are coming or going!"

"Damned straight!" the man with no neck said as he glared at Zhaan, and then at John, as if remembering John had just saved one of the 'freaks'. He took a step forward, his hatred now focused on John. "You shouldn't have saved that whelp. She'll only breed more of them one day. I swear it gets worse every year."

"Watch your mouth, mister, we aren't one of your damned cheerleaders," John muttered under his breath.

The man must have not heard him, because he started to turn away, but then pivoted toward the departing wayfarers. "I hope the Unseen gets the whole lot of you! Good riddens!"

Chiana came from behind Zhaan, one hand pointing at him ominously while the other rested on her pulse pistol. "Why you narrowminded fat bast-"

John took a couple of steps away, closing his eyes as he tried to get his emotions under control. The pain from his shoulder only made the task that much more difficult. The diplomat in Zhaan interceded, putting a firm hand on Chiana's shoulder and she smiled without warmth. "Obviously, we differ in opinion. We shall be on our way."

Chiana wasn't ready to let the guy get off so easily. She pushed away Zhaan's hand and moved closer to the man. "And here I was thinking this might be a swell place to live, but not with neighbors like you."

The man sniffed the air and glanced to some other men standing near the main crowd of locals. He nodded and the others started in their direction. "We have a way of taking care of freak-lovers around here, especially when they are off-worlders who have no business meddling in the affairs of others!"

The miner picked up a piece of wood from the ground and quickly approached Chiana with a dangerous air. He never had a chance to do anything as John roared with rage, "Like hell you are!"

There was no time to draw his weapon, so John tackled the man instead. They rolled on the dirty street. When they came to a stop, John had his pulse pistol pulled and its muzzle pressed squarely between the man's eyes. Breathing hard, John had to struggle to control himself and not pull the trigger of his weapon as his impulses urged. It would be so easy, so damned easy, to pull that trigger.

John could barely move his left arm, but he used it to lean against the man's throat as he straddled the heavyset miner, and spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "Just shut up for a minute, Mr. No Neck...Redneck...whatever the hell they call you here. I've had just about enough of this dren! If you weren't behind those blasts, you didn't try to stop them, either. In my book that makes you just as guilty. These people did nothing to you, despite your weak arguments otherwise."

"You know nothing about it, Mister. I'm going to get rid of those freaks once and for-"

John used the butt of his pulse pistol to clip Mr. No Neck across his temple. "I said shut up," he said through tightly clenched teeth.

Glancing around, he saw that Zhaan and Chiana had taken up flanking positions behind him. The crowd that had been cheering on the mistreatment of the wayfarers now turned their attention to them, but they weren't cheering any longer. In fact, the tension in the air had mushroomed and threatened to become even uglier.

Chiana had her weapon drawn and she gestured to a familiar trio of men on the boardwalk beside them. They were the same ones No Neck had just exchanged gazes with. "Keep your hands where I can see them and everything will be okay. My friend is just doing some...public service education. It won't take long."

The adrenaline surge that had driven John to attack was waning and John didn't want to let No Neck see his hands shake, so he sat back, resting on his knees for a second. "I hear about you stirring things up again, Archie Bunker, and we'll have to have us another talk."

"You're a dead man," No Neck whispered as he wiped at the blood on his temple.

John grunted. "Listen, I've been threatened by much scarier men than you. You just plain irritate me." He moved off of No Neck and got to his feet with Zhaan's help. "Go on, go play with your bigoted buddies and get out of my sight. Just remember it was a freak-lover who turned the other cheek this time. It won't happen again. I hear about you hurting another wayfarer, and you'll be sorry we ever crossed paths."

No Neck held his throat as he got to his feet. He was joined by his friends and they escorted him to the boardwalk. He pivoted, facing John. The man's voice was hoarse with emotion as he said, "You don't realize the trouble you've just brought upon yourself, Mister. You have no idea."

They went around the corner, No Neck still cursing John as they left. The blasts in the background subsided as the last wayfarers in the area made themselves scarce. John turned toward the lingering crowd of local residents as they left the area, warily watching their departure.

"What a jerk," John said and swayed a bit. He straightened, but Zhaan had a hand on his arm and back.

"Crichton, are you sure you're okay?" she asked quietly.

"I'm fine," he said, pulling away from her in irritation. He frowned at his behavior. What the hell was making him so angry?

"Looks like the place is full of them," Chiana muttered, holstering her weapon, but before she did, she had looked at it in confusion, as if she didn't remember pulling it. "Something about this place makes it real easy to get mad. I was so close to mowing down the whole bunch. Something's wrong here."

"Well, they've got one hell of a welcome wagon, that's for sure," John grumbled in disgust, as he slapped at the dust on his clothes and hair, but the movement only made his shoulder ache more. His roll on the ground with No Neck had done nothing to help his pain, but that became unimportant the moment he heard a new shout.

"Spread out! The Peacekeepers are here!"

John's heart stopped beating as a rush of panic raced through him. Not now, he pleaded inside, It's too damned soon to face Peacekeepers again!

After a second, he was able to breathe again. He glanced at Chiana and Zhaan and clutched his shoulder to brace it as they began to run against the wind. The wind was bitter and hard, just like the news of the Peacekeepers, darkening the afternoon sky, much like a death shroud.

Apparently, the city's residents felt the same way, because no one was running in the direction of the shouted warning.

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