(I created a lot of this, but not Riddick, as stated in COPYRIGHTS listed in chapter 1)
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CHAPTER 4
Mr. Smith
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It had been 24 hours since he set foot on the gangplank, and when lift off finally occurred, the event was mercifully anticlimactic. There were no last minute passengers; blue eyed or otherwise and Riddick had no problem admitting to himself he was relieved. As soon as they hit space he had grabbed a bite and sought his bed. The cot he had been promised had turned out to be not just a cot, but a small room off main engineering intended as the night bunk for an assistant, and it was more than suited to his purposes. He had locked the door and crashed, permitting himself, for the first time in a long time, to sleep.
He woke up with a clearer head than he felt he'd had in days and spent a few minutes wondering just what the hell he was doing. There was no question these kids were screwed without him, but Riddick knew Johns was still out there. Wherever the bounty hunter had disappeared to, Riddick wasn't stupid enough to think it was permanent. Johns would be on his trail again, it was only a matter of time, and that was something Riddick was wasting in spades on this ship. His stomach ended his introspection as it growled suggesting there were, perhaps, better uses for the time he had so much of and he glanced at the clock. He'd slept a full sleep cycle plus some. The galley was open again. His choice of ships was something he could not change -– at the moment -- but eating was well within the scope of things.
That's when it started. He wasn't five strides down the corridor when a gentleman he'd never seen before crossed his path. The man edged to the opposite side of the hall, smiled nervously, and offered, "Morning, Mr. Smith." Riddick stared at the man until he fled, but that was only the beginning. Before he'd found his seat Riddick had been greeted by four more people, all just as nervous and unnerved by his stare, but greeted none-the-less. He was used to remaining as unapproachable and anonymous as possible, and he didn't like so many eyes putting his face with a name... ANY name.
Riddick settled himself in the furthest corner of the galley and hunched over his food feeling agitated and restless. He wasn't there to be friendly, and he didn't like anyone making the mistake thinking he was. This sudden popularity was going to put a whole new face on the trip and it made the ship feel like a tighter slam than any prison he'd ever been in. He didn't like it. It started his edge growing, made his animal restless, made him need to be DOING something! But killing things wasn't an option at the moment, and this crate hauler simply wasn't going to move any faster unless he got out and pushed. Yeah, right. At least it felt that way, but as much as the cold indifferent vacuum of space suddenly had a certain appeal, he wasn't ready to step out an airlock... yet.
Nor was trying to turn him into Mr. Congeniality the only thing that had changed on the ship. Prior to dinner the night before someone had rigged up something that looked a bit like a tree and set it up in the corner of the galley. That had caused quite a stir among the kids and Riddick had left as soon as he could, having neither the patience nor the desire to put up with the mayhem. Since then the thing had begun a transformation as people had begun leaving things hanging on its branches.
Metallic strips from the food packaging in the galley now made it sparkle, and as he stood in line to get his breakfast, one of the passengers brought in things made of paper folded into intricate shapes – birds, balls, stars – an ancient craft from old Earth he said as he hung his offerings on the tree. One of the crew families had evidently ransacked the recycler and spent the night wiring and welding together various symbols of the season. Even the Engineer, presumably with the captain's blessing, had hung the thing with a half dozen plasma fuses - fist sized silvery spheres filled pearlescent gas that swirled and rippled in reaction to temperature. Riddick could only wonder what it was about the season that prompted this insanity because those fuses weren't cheap.
And as he ate he saw others file in to leave their do-dads on the tree, and whether they stayed or not, there wasn't a one of them that didn't leave the tree with a smile on their face as if the little ritual had somehow infected them with some disease of the pleasure centers. In fact it seemed like everyone on the whole damn ship was infected... except him. He was just there.
The whole holiday thing was like some episodic plague that had infected humans back on Earth and had been carried with them as they spread. It didn't matter where they settled, certain dates spread with them. These dates were carefully preserved and calculated so that regardless of planetary rotation or solar orbit, wherever humans were they could celebrate these holidays synchronous with Earth Prime. Most planets even published them in their calendars so that regardless of where a person was in the galaxy, they wouldn't miss a single precious holiday. He wondered if anyone remembered just what the hell they were celebrating. Long eared rodents, colored eggs, fat men in red suits, doo-dadded trees...
Yeah. That was predominant among these dates... this thing called Christmas when people were suppose to buy a gift for every person they could put a name to, and do something good for someone they couldn't so they could feel all warm and fuzzy inside. This particular holiday sent people scurrying in a frenzy of shopping as every merchant and retail venture tried to out do the other dragging shoppers in their doors to buy things no one ever needed, but everyone seemed to want.
Kids were a big part of it too, and advertising was quite blatant in suggesting that if you didn't get your child something big and expensive you didn't really care about them. There were very few places that did not become overwhelmed by the commercialized headache. The universal slogan was "Peace, joy and good will to all," but it was a joke. The holiday was mass chaos and Riddick hated it all – in slam and out. It made people unpredictable and he couldn't see that Christmas served any purpose beyond sucking up money, pumping the family angle, and maybe giving the economy a booster shot; and since he had neither money to waste nor family of any sort, it was nothing but a frustration. If it had had any significance at one time, it seemed to have been lost long ago. Just what could all this madness have represented?
It was an idle question to pass the time, but when the galley door suddenly pushed open he had a new diversion, welcome or not, as one of the nuns trooped in with a dozen orphans in her wake. Riddick had seen the woman before. After the rest of the orphanage's junk had been loaded and sectioned off, the remainder of the secondary hold had had been converted into a couple of mob dorms, and it was this woman doing the leading when the orphan train came on board through the main hold airlock. He kept his distance, but curiosity prompted him to watch from the shadows – after all, it was these kids he had put his freedom on the line for.
There was a half dozen nuns of varying shapes and sizes, and assorted other help but this woman had stood out in particular. Not in her appearance - Riddick had little clue as to the nun's shape beyond average as she wore a long loose aproned dress, and likewise her hair was covered by some long scarf - but he could see in the way she moved, even at a distance, that she had a supreme confidence. There were none that dared brook her authority, child or adult, and yet when one of the younger ones fell she was quick to be on her knees beside him, drying his tears with her apron before hoisting him up in her arms.
The same dozen orphans that were with her now had been attached to her then, the younger ones trailing behind her while the older ones were interspersed among the other 40 or so children, but even then Riddick had noted how this dozen fixed on her like a compass in the chaos, responding to her signals like well trained troops. Nor was this dozen completely ordinary in itself. Unlike most the other kids in the orphanage there was a preternatural awareness about these kids that wasn't learned in loving homes. This dozen had the lingering sense of street-rat about them; a sense he was intimately familiar with. Made him wonder a bit about the woman. You didn't earn a street-rat's loyalty with a roof and a bit of food.
When the nun had walked in the galley he had been afraid the room was about to be overrun with kids and had begun weighing the value of his meal against his sanity, but when he saw it was the street-rat brigade he paused. The little gang came in carrying boxes as if they were gold and he knew something was up. "The captain has said we can display our stable anywhere in galley that we please," the nun announced merrily, then turned to the children, "Where should we put it?"
Stable? As in animals? Riddick hoped very much it wasn't what it sounded like or there might just be a change of command for the remainder of the trip. There was no way he was sharing his galley with animals.
The children set their boxes down on an empty table and huddled together, their voices revealing their solemn delight at making such an important decision. The eldest, a boy of about 15, listened carefully as each child spoke, and offered his input, but let the youngers carry the discussion. Then, as abruptly as it began, it was over. The youngest of the group, no more than 7, had said nothing as she looked the galley over critically, then she gasped. She pulled on the eldest's sleeve and he knelt to hear her. Surprisingly all the others went dead mouthed as well, and when she was done they all looked and the agreement was instantaneous. "Here," the eldest walked over to one of the tables, "this is the place."
The nun cocked her head and looked at the chosen location. It was neither center stage, nor the best protected. "Why here, Kyle?" she asked curiously.
Kyle grinned, "The light," he answered, "it's different from the others," and as he spoke Riddick looked up cautiously. His goggles automatically adjusted for the intensity of the light filtering it to tolerable levels and he saw the girl was right. The ceiling of the galley was a great open grid of tracks and supports, a continuation of the secondary hold on the other side of the wall, and Riddick suspected the galley wall itself to be movable with the same great hoists that lifted the cargo racks from the pit. The lights were mounted to the grid work in sturdy mirrored housings that collected the illumination shed by the bulbs and directed it downward in broad circles of light, but the light in question looked to have been damaged at some time giving it a curious glare. It illuminated much of the broad circle it was intended, but a portion of the light was refracted back in on a mirrored interior dented and cracked so as to create a curious four pointed halo about the fixture and a concentration of light shining down upon the table. It was a unique effect, subtle but distinctive once noticed. "Ivory saw it. It's the star."
The nun stared at it. "It's perfect," then she smiled, "What are we waiting for?"
The children pounced on the boxes and began unpacking. Soon pieces of sculpture that looked very old, and had every evidence of being hand-made were being revealed. The first sculptures pulled out were two figures, a man and a woman in robes like the people of New Mecca. The man stood with his hands on his chest and head bowed as if in respect while the woman knelt. Another figure was in the box with them, but the little girl Ivory claimed it quickly and stepped back behind the others. "And who is this?" The nun asked as if surprised when she saw the man and woman in the children's hands.
The kids laughed at her sudden 'lapse of memory' and several of the younger children chorused, "Mary and Joseph!"
"And who were they?" the nun asked.
"Mary was just a girl, like me," an older girl said quietly. She didn't appear to be more than 13 or 14.
"Joseph was a carpenter," a boy announced.
"He was also the great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great," another boy piped up ticking off 'great's on his fingers, "great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great..." he faltered, "ah, man, I lost count," then he grinned, "great, great, grandson of King David... or something like that."
The woman nodded, "Right on all counts, and who can tell me what happen to Mary and Joseph?"
Several of the kids tried to talk at once, but Kyle began speaking clearly with purpose and the others quickly fell silent, looking at each other with an air of happy anticipation, "Luke 1:26-36. God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin's name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, 'Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you. 'Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, 'Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.' 'How will this be,' Mary asked the angel, ' since I have never known a man?'"
The older girl smothered a giggle.
Kyle continued, "And the angel answered and said to her, 'The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Highest will overshadow you so that Holy One who is to be born will be called the Son of God.'"
The girl nudged the one next to her, "Bet that was one wild night," she whispered.
"Lilly!" The nun said, and there was none of the shock or mortification Riddick would have expected, but merely a reprimand. Lilly smiled sheepishly. "Why don't you tell us why this wonderful news became a problem for Mary," the Sister suggested.
"Well," Lilly started hesitantly, "she was betrothed to Joseph..."
"And what does that mean?" The nun asked.
"That she was married to him," Lilly answered, "but they weren't, like, all the way married yet. They'd made the promises, but Joseph was suppose to go home and, like, build her a house or something before they could live together."
"That's messed up," Kyle commented, "I mean you marry your girl, but you got to wait till you built a place to live for her before you get to love on her? And no action in the meantime… that's not right."
The nun smiled, "Actually it was a good thing. That he had to go home, build a place for his bride and stay pure the whole time proved to her that he was serious and ready to take up responsibility as the head of his own family. It also ensured she didn't have to move in with her mother-in-law." That raised 'ohs' from a few of the kids, then the nun looked at Lilly again.
"Yeah, well, when Joseph found out she was pregnant," Lilly continued, "he figured she'd been cheatin' on him. He could have had her killed, that was the punishment for cheatin', but I guess he still loved her 'cause he was just going to divorce her secret like."
"Come on, Lilly," one of the younger ones whispered nudging the girl in the back, "Tell it the right way!"
Lilly grinned, then with a sly glance at Kyle she drew herself up and orated pompously, "Matthew 1:20-25. But while he thought about these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, 'Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife, for the child she carries is of the Holy Spirit. And she will bring forth a Son, and you shall call His name JESUS, for He will save His people from their sins.' So all this was done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying: 'Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel,' which is translated, 'God with us.' Then Joseph, being aroused from sleep, did as the angel of the Lord commanded him and took to him his wife, but did not lay with her till she had brought forth her firstborn Son. And he called His name JESUS."
"Very good," The woman laughed, "And where did this last part happen...?" Her index finger traveled over the children stopping on a pair of pale headed boys that were identical to one another, "Kimmeron and Kensey."
The two boys scrambled to unpack a box and together held a little wooden building over their heads, their movements so alike it was uncanny, "Bethlehem!" they shouted in unison, and with a glance of their own at Kyle they began reciting, "Luke 2:1-7. In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone was required to go to his own town to register. So Joseph went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."
The nun began to see a delightful conspiracy going on with Kyle at its head, and the sparkling eyes of all the children challenged her. "Peter," she said suddenly pointing at a boy with slanted eyes.
About three different children pounced on one of the boxes pulling out figures with hook shaped staffs and a collection of shaggy looking animals carved to look like someone had wrapped them in hull insulation as Peter responded, "Luke 2:8-14. And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified..."
"Leeatha," the nun switched choices mid-stream trying to throw them off.
"...But the angel said to them," a girl with thick wiry hair and a broad face looked up from the box she was searching and continued without missing a beat, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord..."
"Carey," the woman choose again, and Leeatha pulled a figure from her box, a man in fancy robes with wings coming off his back, and quickly handed it to a bright eyed girl with braids on either side of her head.
"...This will be a sign to you," the girl announced holding the figure up in the air as if it were talking to the men with the staves, "You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying..."
And before the nun could say anything the entire dozen stepped with Carey and proclaimed, "Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth and goodwill toward men!"
The nun clapped her hands in pleasure, as did a few of the other diners at the impromptu presentation. "That was marvelous," she cheered, "absolutely marvelous! How much have you learned?"
"We all memorized the first two chapters of Matthew and Luke, the two books in the Bible that talked about Jesus being born," Kyle answered proudly, "That was how Lilly knew the scripture about Joseph. That parts in Matthew." The nun nodded. "We wanted to give you something special for Christmas."
"Oh, what a delight you children are," The woman almost sounded like she would cry, "I must find some way to reward your diligence. Such a wonderful gift," she pulled Kyle into a hug, then reached out for each child in turn making sure none were missed as she spoke, "but it is not just me you have given a gift to. These Words from the Bible are now yours forever, hidden in your heart. The Christmas story can never be taken from you."
It was then that the little one called Ivory came up and opened her hands to the nun as if she were holding something fragile and very precious. There was something that looked like a crude little feed bin filled with dry grass in her hands, and on the grass was a little baby that looked to be wrapped in cloth, "The very first Christmas gift," she said sadly, "was baby Jesus. Have people forgotten that? Don't they understand what Christmas means anymore?" Her voice was plaintive.
The nun fell to her knees to gather the child in her arms. "Oh, yes, Ivory, my sweet angel, they have forgotten. They run around like madmen buying gifts for kith and kin forgetting that buying gifts for the ones they love is really a remembrance of God's gift to us, but as long as you remember... you and your brothers and sisters," she looked at the other children and that seemed odd for except for the twins there were no two similar, "there will be someone to remind them. You can be a beacon that leads people to Jesus... like the star guided the wise men to seek the Christ child," she motioned up at the light.
"How?" Ivory asked in wonder, "How can I do that?"
The nun chuckled, then pulled Ivory into a tight hug before holding her at arms length, "By being your sweet wonderful self, Ivory; by sharing the spirit Christ has placed in your heart wherever He guides you and," she grinned, "by doing things like finishing the Nativity so others can see it. Let's put Baby Jesus where He belongs," and with that the nun and the children became a flurry of activity as they finished unpacking the boxes.
Knew there was a reason I hated Christmas, Riddick growled to himself, and he even began to find a certain 'in your face' attraction for the commercial version.
Riddick made a point of ignoring the nun and her crew as he dedicated himself to finishing his meal and so was taken somewhat by surprise when a little hand suddenly placed one of the strange shaggy mammals on the table, then the little girl Ivory clambered up on the facing seat. He started to snarl at her to get lost, but as he looked up at her sweet face he found his anger dying.
She was beautiful, even angelic, and an impression of innocence radiated from her so strongly that she almost seemed to glow. Her hair fell down the sides of her face framing huge luscious eyes that brimmed with the simple belief that all was right in the universe while wide cherubic lips smiled at him beneath a cute button nose. The shading of his violet vision gave him the feel that she was a contrast of pale skin and dark everything else – hair, eyes, lips - but he couldn't be sure. He only knew that her structure was near perfect, and were she to retain that beauty as she grew, adorable was likely to transform into drop dead gorgeous. It almost made him ill to think about what would happen to her if the pirates had their way. Ain't gonna happen, he promised himself.
"I saved one for you," she chimed as she settled herself on her knees across from him.
He stared at her, but she seemed not the least bit bothered by his goggled gaze so he shifted it to the creature she had brought him. The animal had four legs, all folded up underneath it as if it were, perhaps, asleep – and very warmly he imagined for the beast appeared to carry it's own insulation if the form of a thick dense coat. Most the others scattered around the stable look like they might be some pale color, but the one she had brought him seemed it should be dark. Its face, beneath a mop of the thick fur, was narrow with a rounded muzzle and sidewise eyes. An herbivore then, and something about it made Riddick think the animal it was modeled after was none too smart. "What is it?" he asked shortly.
At that the girl giggled, "Oo," she sat up straighter in her seat, "your voice is all rumbly and rough like tree bark. I bet it would be fun to hear you tell a story." Then she grew more serious, "It's a sheep."
"A sheep," he repeated. Yeah, with a name like that it has to be dumb.
"Uh huh," Ivory nodded sagely, "People have kept sheep on Earth Prime for a way way long time. They use their hair to make clothes and eat their meat. It's called mutton. The people that watch the sheep are called shepherds. They were the first ones to see Baby Jesus," she said matter-of-factly.
Riddick found he was charmed in spite of himself, "How come you know so much about sheep?"
"Sister Bernice knows about lots of animals," Ivory answered solemnly, "She teaches us stuff about them. I can even milk a Jacobian Goat."
"Really?" Riddick smiled, "I've never even seen a Jacobian Goat."
"Oh, yes," her eyes grew wide, "They're fearsome! They are black and white with long shaggy hair and six horns!..." she held her hands as far apart as she could, "...This long!"
Her face was so animated he wanted to chuckle. "Interesting," he rumbled instead.
"But the Bible didn't say anything about goatherds visiting Baby Jesus," she continued on, "and all the shepherds got took already so I brought you a sheep."
"Sorry, kid," he shook his head, "I don't do nativities."
Ivory looked about to protest, and Riddick wondered if he truly wanted to resist her, but before she could begin the nun glided over. "Ivory," she interrupted gently, "Let the gentleman eat his breakfast," and Riddick's mood immediately turned sour as the little girl offered him a regretful smile, then took her sheep and climbed down. He knew the real reason the nun came over, he had expected it sooner or later, but he was surprised at himself. He had actually been enjoying the little girl's company.
After Ivory left the nun continued to stand near the table as she watched the kids - sentry duty? Most likely, but he didn't care. His desire to talk had departed with the girl so he applied himself to his meal with single minded dedication once again. He figured it was only a matter of time before the woman got up the nerve to tell him to stay away from her kids, so he was taken a little off stride when she finally said, quite pleasantly, "So what do you think, Mr. Smith?"
Does everybody know my 'name?' he thought with irritation, See how the lines of communication work on this ship. tele-com, tele-link and tell Holly. "Try not to," he answered dismissively without looking up, but she didn't take the hint.
"I for one think it is entirely appropriate." The nun smiled looking contentedly over at the children playing with the pieces of the stable scene, making the sounds of animals they had probably never even seen, giving voice to people who hadn't lived in thousands of years. The nun seemed oddly at ease, especially considering what she was talking to. "It is no coincidence we are setting up the Nativity on a ship called the Bethlehem Ephrathah so close to the day we celebrate our Lord's birth. When I saw the name of the transport chosen for us, I knew God was blessing this journey. We are under His protection."
"Then there's a hell of a lot you don't know, sister," Riddick offered blandly. There was no title or respect in the last word, it was merely a designation in lieu of a name he neither knew nor was interested in learning.
"In fact I do," the nun turned to look at him full on, "Captain Maw has informed me. She said one of the other passengers brought word of the danger to my charges in time for her to begin preparations and I wanted to thank you."
"What makes you think it was me," Riddick stabbed something that looked and smelled like sausage, but it wasn't wise to reflect too heavily on the ingredients, especially on a ship with this tight a budget.
"Such whispers are not heard in brightly lit places," the nun commented knowingly, "and there are very few who have booked passage this trip that would survive the darker corners of Lupis 5." The woman spoke with the surety of one who knew, and Riddick glanced up at her with mild curiosity. She looked older than her voice, and Riddick knew one of the places that could happen to a person. If she had survived the back streets of Lupis 5 then it explained a lot and he supposed she had place to talk.
Strangely, as he met her gaze, he thought he saw a faint reflection of gold or something like it deep in her eyes. Glancing around he tried to see what kind of light or energy source might cause this new variation of color. He found nothing obvious, but his altered vision was still new enough he supposed he was bound to run into the occasional anomaly.
It hadn't been so bad when the doc at the Ursa Luna Orbital Prison first put the shine on his eyes. That version of maximum security hell wasn't the worst slam Riddick had been in, but it had its dark moments... quite literally. Of 'Slam-City's' multiple levels, the lowest had gone dark and prison officials were in no hurry to spend the funds or risk the lives to fix them. It kept costs down, and if it kept the convict population down too, well, they had no complaints about that either - a good 'healthy' attrition rate meant there was always room for more. The worst they liked you the deeper they sunk you, and with it sunk your chances of surviving. His descent to those levels had been somewhat more voluntary, if no less mandatory. After he broke loose from the guards who had transported him up from the planet, forced the sole survivor to collect the transfer fee and hand it over to him they wanted him badly, but not badly enough to follow him down there. Life in the lower levels had been reduced to survival of the fittest. Riddick already played by those rules, but the long term denizens of Ursa Luna had an advantage he didn't, albeit an artificial one, and it only took one skirmish to make Riddick realize he needed that advantage as well if he was going to stay alive.
There was a doc buried down there, a real doc, although he wasn't operating in any official capacity. The man claimed to have studied a race on some remote planet that divided their seasons by light and dark. They had a unique visual adaptation to deal with the dark times, and after years of research he had finally developed a process to add bio-synthetic micro-prisms to a man's eye to collect and focus ambient light back where it could boost night vision. He'd also designed a way to modify the optic nerve to see in a different light spectrum making it possible to see, to some degree, in total darkness -- ideally -- but that part of the procedure didn't always go so well.
Lot of people lost their sight, piece meal or whole hog. Some people died. It was still considered experimental when the medical authorities shut it down, but the doc was convinced he could perfect it if he just had a little more time and a few more guinea pigs -- the human kind -- to play with. He took his experiment underground, and when he was caught he was sentenced to Ursa Luna. That was like sentencing a fox to a henhouse. After examining Riddick's eyes, the doc had been surprised and said Riddick was a perfect candidate. In fact the doc virtually guaranteed success and set a price of 20 Menthol Cools. As it turned out, the nerve thing didn't take, but Riddick wasn't going to stick around long enough to complain about the workmanship when he discovered a way to get on board a ship and install himself as the pilot.
That had been when Johns first latched on to his tail, but it wasn't the first time he'd crossed paths with the man. In fact, there had been a time when Riddick had trusted William Johns. He and Johns had both been part of the Grycov Mercenary Guild... had both trained on Sigma 3... had both gone to Strikeforce Academy. They had even taken some modules together; Johns had been Riddick's wingman in both Atmospheric and Interstellar Combat and Maneuvers. They'd made a good team.
After graduation Johns had shipped out for a new assignment -- a guild hunter going after soldiers AWOL from units contracted to the Wailing Wars -- but they'd parted friends...
Back when Riddick believed the whole 'band of brothers' crap they'd been taught.
Back before he learned what mercs were truly loyal to.
Shortly before Riddick took out the company at Sigma 3, Johns paid them visit. Riddick had been retained there and was an Elite Company Ranger serving in Security. He'd found out Sigma 3 company had gone crooked, was taking contracts under the table no merc company with any conscience should touch, and he'd been conspiring with the guild owner to bring them down. The day after Johns got there he started asking some interesting questions -- made a point of asking Riddick some interesting questions -- but nobody had told Riddick anybody was coming and his short hairs were twitching so he kept clam about the twisted deals Sigma 3 Company was making. Johns stayed another day then abruptly stopped asking questions and left. By sheer coincidence Riddick had been in the hanger sorting out a short in his fighter's control panel when Sigma's Commander escorted his old wingman in. From behind the tinted windows of his cockpit Riddick watched the two shaking hands before Johns left. Both were smiling real friendly like, and Riddick smelled rat.
Somewhere along the way Johns had traded principles for cunning and four point something years later he was a free agent and it was Riddick he was hunting, past associations forgotten. Riddick led him a merry chase, but John's was good at what he did and had no qualms about taking liberties if it gave him the advantage. Riddick wondered just how far the man would go. To Johns' mind the ends justified the means. That and where Riddick was concerned, it was now a matter of survival. Johns knew better than most that the least slip up, the smallest mistake, and Riddick was gone... and very likely he'd be dead in the process because the man Riddick thought he knew, the man Riddick had thought was his friend, was a lie. Johns exuded the slick do-right lawman, but that was a lie too. When Riddick was around Johns now, all he smelled was rat.
Riddick still didn't know what prompted Johns' decision to take him to Butcher Bay, but he had no intention of staying there any longer than he had to either. Riddick wreaked his kind of havoc through all three security levels of Butcher Bay, and it was while he was on the double max level he met Pope Joe. As much voo-doo as hoo-doo the man was what passed for the doctor round there and after Riddick's arm had been messed up in a 15 meter fall with nothing but a guard for a cushion, he needed one.
Riddick still wasn't a hundred percent sure what had happened. Pope Joe must have doped the wound with something that had screwed with Riddick's brain 'cause even now he remembered a woman's voice in his head like a half forgotten dream. She'd said she was going to give him a gift, that he'd been blind too long. Like that could be real. Riddick knew Pope Joe had to have done something, maybe even finished what the first eye doc had begun, because Riddick knew he wasn't going crazy, and it was after Pope Joe was done stitching up his arm that Riddick's world had shifted to shades of violet...
... and it changed everything. Riddick lost all color, but he'd gained the dark and it had proven its worth in those corners the nun was talking about.
"Yeah," he growled reluctantly, sliding his goggles up, he narrowed his eyes against the light to see if the lack of lenses changed the effect - it didn't, "It was me."
She caught her breath at the sight of his silvered eyes, but quickly mastered her astonishment to offer a heart felt, "Then thank you, Mr. Smith. God bless you."
"Keep it," Riddick retorted darkly, pulling the goggles back down, "I don't want nothin' from God."
This took her by surprise. He saw a shadow of worry flash across her face at the hard certainly of his tone, her scent of sunlight and soft incense suddenly tainted, then the visible concern was gone - hidden away - with only her scent left to betray her. "But He has done so much for you already... look at you... your body, your eyes..."
"I earned this body the hard way, lady," Riddick growled contemptuously, his muscles flexing in irritation causing them to ripple smoothly under his bronze skin, "and I paid for these eyes. Cost me twenty Menthol Cools to a slam doc and had nothin' to do with God. He ain't done shit for me since the day I was born."
That reaction seemed to astound her even more, and then her response astounded him. He saw it in her face. She knew what he was, what he was capable of, and yet she still dared to speak back to him, "How can you say that?" She sounded like she was chastising one of her orphans instead of talking to a shiny eyed killer, "There is a reason that procedure was outlawed. Do you have any idea how many fail? Do you even realize how rare a perfect shine is? This slam doc's talents were God-given regardless of what you or he thought, and I suspect that the conditions under which this was done would make your results even more miraculous. God is in your life whether you realize it or not, and I for one appreciate what He has done for you, as well as what you have done for us."
Riddick stood in a dangerously sinuous movement. For a moment he looked like he wanted to do something, then glancing behind the nun he saw Ivory and several of the other kids watching. "Screw you," he snarled and then strode across the room, dropping his whole tray in the trash. Let the recycler sort it out. He didn't want to be appreciated by a nun or anyone else. He just wanted to get this job done and get the hell off this ship.
"God cares for you, Mr. Smith," he heard her voice follow him down the hall, and then, after he had passed beyond earshot, the nun sighed and shook her head, "and I will pray for you."
-OoO-
NOTES
A portion of this chapter was revised 9/11/07 to reflect some new weaving in my overall storyline which seeks to remain within canon as best I can while I have fun filling in blank spaces. To this end you may have noticed my version of Riddick's eye shine acquisition becomes a two step process - the shine itself at Ursa Luna and the violet dark sight at Butcher Bay. This is my attempt to reconcile the 2 SEPARATE origins for his eye shine found in official sources. If you haven't heard about the second origin, you probably haven't played the Escape from Butcher Bay game. I haven't either, but you can see a summary in "movie" form at the Tigon Studios web page (be warned, it should probably share the game's rating for language and animated gore). Look under games. All other info out there supports the Ursa Luna origin, but since Butcher Bay IS "official" history, I've tried to incorporate it. The game is also where I pulled the idea that Riddick and Johns used to know each other - perhaps were once even friends. In the beginning of the "movie" their pointed banter indicates a familiarity that seems beyond hunter and quarry, but you can watch it and draw your own conclusions.
If you want to learn more about that race the Ursa Luna doctor was studying, check out my story Saved By Grace (also still in progress) which happens, chronologically, 25 years before this one ;o).
THANKS
Littlejewel667 – Thanks for your kind words! You don't know how much they are appreciated, and I consider it a high honor for one of my stories to go on someone's Favorite List. I hope Christmas will earn the right to stay there. ¤hug back¤
JacklynK – Thanks for the review, and for the technical comments as well. I've acted on some and made a few revisions in both chapters 2 & 3, and will keep the others in mind as I continue. Maw? Yeah, I guess a rather blatant allusion ¤LOL¤, but to my mind it suits her :-). Thanks for everything.
