11) What A Hell Of Witchcraft Lies In The Small Orb Of One Particular Tear
'O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear!
But with the inundation of the eyes
What rocky heart to water will not wear?
What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.
-A Lover's Complaint, William Shakespeare
River looked up from the cortex she was building out of broken parts from Mr. Universe's sanctum as Riddick walked into the galley. She'd saved all the pieces in the hopes that she'd be able to salvage something and every time they set down on the moon she went through a few more pieces. "Set course?"
"Yep," He took a seat on the couch and she grinned at him as Dog came over and decided to flop down on his feet. It was a toss-up what Dog liked more, Riddick's boots or her pillow. "We'll want to hit a fuel station on the way to Whitehall but we're not too bad off."
River nodded, mentally calculating their funds, "Got a good price for the dolls. And a better price for the salvage." She considered a moment, "The rest of the salvage…sundries, bits and pieces, whatever we cannot use… will see what the cortex tells us as to who advertises a need. Might get a better price on the Rim to individuals than a second-hand shop. Be in the neighborhood anyway. Regina can use the protein bars and we still have the gen seed to sell to Patience."
"She send any word yet on her price?" Riddick was carving something, a shiv or the handle of one most likely. He liked to keep his hands busy and she'd teased him about downloading books on knitting so he could make her sweaters. That had made him laugh aloud which she always loved to hear. The idea of her big man holding knitting needles instead of shivs was an amusing picture. Though she didn't doubt he could use them to kill just as easy as he would a shiv, or, as he'd done before, a tea cup.
"Waved that she'll pay the going rate, but she'll try to bargain us down at gunpoint, at least she'll have that in mind, until she sees us." River shrugged. "Smart woman, good read of people. Once she sees us she'll rethink trying to take the goods. Set up for an ambush and will bluster but knows when to capitulate."
"Hate to think someone dumb enough to try and rob us is actually running a world," Riddick smirked. "Just don't set right with me." She half smiled, Riddick was practicing his Rim accent, in preparation for dealing with folks who might notice his normal way of speaking wasn't quite the Alliance norm.
"Doesn't run the whole world, just a big part of it." River set the cortex down and clicked a few keys on it, then brought her own online and began to transfer programs.
"You been workin' on that for a few days now," Riddick observed. "What's the point of it?"
She slanted a half smile in his direction, "Good to have a cortex that's disposable. Won't break easily, not unless I want it to. But this way, I don't have to take my good portable cortex or datapad with us. I can do the work from this and if it's broken, or stolen, a simple remote command scrubs the data banks and turns off the coolant fan. It'll set itself on fire." That got an appreciative smirk from her bàng jiār and her smile widened to a grin. "We've been lucky so far, and careful, but I feel better using this…in the field."
Riddick nodded, his gaze thoughtful as he looked at the cortex and she tilted her head. His mind was full of questions, dancing around one core concern and she wondered when he would finally ask her what he wanted to know.
"How…thorough are the records? The star maps and such, that the Alliance has?" He was starting out slowly with his queries, reverting back to his old cautious way of doing things. She guessed it was partially because he didn't want to get his hopes up too much.
"The archives have all the information known to the Alliance," River explained. "I can access some of them from our cortex. But for very old information we'd have to go to White Sun and use one of the libraries there."
"Persephone's part of White Sun right?" He asked thoughtfully.
She made a face at him, he knew full well that Persephone was part of Bai Hu. "It is."
"Would the libraries there have access to the archives?"
River frowned thoughtfully as she considered the question, "They should. If there's something we cannot access…I might be able to husk it. Difficulty lies in how far out Furya might be." She explained, "The farther away from Bai Hu the less likely records of the settlement was sent back to the archives. You know the Alliance, if they can't control it, they don't like to admit it exists." She looked at him, the silver eyes and muscular body that were somehow beyond anything merely human. "You want to do a search for Furya."
"That's the notion," he nodded. "See if I can get a line on it."
"Can do a search here and see if there are any tags that show us where the information is kept in the archives." River offered. "And…" It was her turn to hesitate before continuing, "I can try to do a deep Read of your mind. See if there's anything in your subconscious that will give us a trail to follow."
That got a sharp look from him and she realized he'd never even considered that was a possibility. "Could you get anything? I don't even know if I was born on Furya. Being left in a trash dumpster argues against it actually."
"Think we'd be able to get something, not sure what," River answered thoughtfully. "Even if they're just images from your dreams, might be able to match them to images on the cortex. Might have seen something similar before. Won't know until we try."
"Won't hurt to try," He nodded.
His mind was a wonder. Precisely but organically organized and almost meticulous in how his memories were stored. She'd read fiction that referred to a Mind Palace and Occlumency but until she'd gone into Riddick's mind she hadn't known anyone whose mind was organized like this. Well, except for her.
Of course, she'd skimmed his thoughts before, on Not Furya she'd Read him constantly, to anticipate him and to adjust her own behavior accordingly. Thankfully they were both adaptable. They'd never have gotten away from the mercs otherwise. And she'd Read him since then; he didn't seem to mind, of the opinion that if she didn't like his thoughts she could stay out of his head. The only effort he made to curb his mental processes was out of respect for the trauma she'd endured and his reluctance to inflict further hurt upon her. Everything else was fair game.
He'd snarled at her, when she'd referenced what she'd Read, reminding him of painful memories. Reminding her that simply because she could Read him didn't mean she had the right to speak of what she saw or heard. Didn't have the right to poke at wounds still healing. Even that he'd forgiven when he realized she wasn't doing it entirely on purpose. And once her mind and body had calmed, adjusted to relative safety, her tongue was more easily controlled.
But this, an in depth Read of his mind, delving below the surface of his thoughts to where his memories dwelt, this was new. And amazing. Beautiful. A bit disturbing at times, she'd never actually seen someone be eviscerated and his emotional reaction to it wasn't like anything she'd encountered. Satisfied, smug and dismissive. A threat eliminated. A triumph on his part. And then no longer thought upon. Filed away with the memories of other kills, all of them needful in their own way.
Out of curiosity she touched a big gauge shotgun with blue and red shells around it. A man's voice, with a twang similar to a Deadwood native's spoke and the image of blond hair and pale eyes filled her mind, "Maybe to take what you got. Maybe to work your nerves. Or maybe to just come back and skull-fuck you in your sleep." Another voice spoke, a Dyton native, a woman with dark curly hair and light skin, "He sounds like a charmer." Billy Johns Jr, and Shazza…last name unknown… Back on the planet with the monsters, where he'd met his Jack, before she became Kyra.
Turrets and spires, halls and parlors, a wealth of information, experiences and dreams. Everything carefully in its place. A painting on the trunk of a tree on the edge of a meadow drew her into a dream of Furya and she eagerly moved forward, all her attention upon the detail of it.
A blond woman with braided hair, feathers and beads wound into it like the ancient Natives of the Americas, stood in a field of golden grasses blown half to dust, bones around her in a mass grave. This would be Shirah then, the woman Riddick cursed even as he tried to follow her edicts. She stood like a queen, her mane of hair the only crown she needed, demanding Riddick's attention and obedience.
Her gaze was hard and cold, implacable and River retreated.
She searched as long as she could after that but slowly his mind began to close to her the further she went. His trust only went so deep after all, and his tension was growing, waiting for the pain to begin. With a sigh of effort, she withdrew and looked into his eyes.
He'd prepared himself for the throbbing agony he'd felt when the Greater Quasi-Dead had done their deep scan. After he'd become Lord Marshall he'd read up on them and found that the reason for that pain was the hemorrhaging they caused in the brain when a subject resisted their scans. Furyans bow to no man. Defiant until the end. It had never been in his nature to simply surrender and accept what was coming. He'd always had to fight, even if that fight meant capitulation and living to battle another day. It wasn't in his nature to simply give in or knuckle under. That he'd lived through it was something like a miracle. Escaping afterwards had been another miracle.
It took three miracles for someone to become a saint, at least that's what he recalled reading back when foster care was either indifferent check collectors or religious fanatics. But after that escape he'd been short on miracles. Everything afterward had gone so much to shit that he'd had no hope of a third. Even killing Zhylaw hadn't really bought him any peace or contentment. He'd had maybe a day or three before the demands began and assassination attempts after them once the Necros figured he wouldn't capitulate.
Kitten wouldn't hurt him if she could help it, but after his experience in the Necropolis on the Basilica he couldn't help but think any deep scan was going to hurt like hell. He'd do his best to not resist, to let her in, but there was only so much he was willing to take in the name of finding Furya.
Cool fingertips had rested on his wrists, pressing lightly against his arteries and he could feel his pulse throbbing under her skin. Dark, soft, gentle eyes, as deep and dark as the Black, stared up into his fearlessly and he almost smiled. Her dark lips quirked slightly and she took a breath, slowing her lungs and matching his breathing until they were in sync, breathing as one and he could hear her heartbeat slowing down to match his. Until they were one heartbeat, one pulse, one breath.
Her voice was a low murmur, soft and tender, the gurgle of water from a spring, softly trickling over stones and rippling into a pond, peaceful, almost serene, "Look into my eyes, and let me See into yours. I am one with the Storm and the Worlds and the Swirl of Stars in the Heavens and I shall See."
He swore he could see the stars in her eyes, constellations born and dying, silver and white against black. He took another breath with her and everything but her eyes fell away.
Long quiet minutes of breathing, slow beats of their hearts together and a gentle touch, lighter than a kiss, brushing over his mind. Softer still, the barest stirring of a breeze, his thoughts and memories were examined carefully.
The silence was beguiling. The Greater Quasi Dead had been almost shrieking what they found to Zhylaw, a cacophony of sound screeching along his nerves to match the agony in his mind, blood boiling in his brain. Zhylaw had commanded them, his deep voice a drumbeat through the shriek, echoing the pounding of his blood. He'd never felt any pain like it, not even when his eyes changed, and slams weren't known for their gentle treatment of prisoners.
But this was the silence of empty rooms, an ocean in the doldrums without breeze or bird to draw attention. And still no pain. Just the feeling of her fingertips and a soft caress in his mind as her thoughts touched his. He'd never felt anything as sweet and beguiling as the caress of her mind against his. He could almost feel her care for him, taste the sweetness of her thoughts as she moved through the stronghold in his mind. Emotions were like scents, and she was a banquet of delight to his senses the touch of her thoughts connecting the two of them until he was lost in the pleasure of it.
He lost track of time.
That didn't happen.
He never forgot where he was, when it was, no matter who he was with. It was a matter of survival.
Then he heard her take a deep breath and her fingers pulled away from his skin as she blinked.
"Sorry. Could not…" She shook her head. "Saw Shirah in his dreams. Images of Furya. Will try to enter search parameters based upon landmarks."
Riddick half smiled, "Didn't expect you'd find much Kitten."
"Maybe another time," She shrugged. "Might come across something that gives us another trail to follow."
"Maybe," Riddick nodded. "There isn't much I forget but it's possible something's buried in there." He looked at the clock, "Better throttle back and hit that fuel station. We've got enough to make Regina but I'd rather not put it off. Don't think Patience'll wait while we drift towards Whitehall."
"That she will not," Kitten grinned at him and set her cortex aside. "I'll start dinner if you'll see to the fuel?"
"You got a deal," He let a hand rest on her shoulder and gave it a careful squeeze. "Thanks."
Her smile and gentle nod let him know she understood exactly what he meant.
River looked over the co-ordinates Patience had given them and found them on the map of the area, tapping the cortex screen to make it give them a topographical map. "Wishes to meet in this valley. During prior meetings she has had snipers on the ridges, ready to shoot if the other party gets…fractious."
"Let's be a little late," Riddick suggested. "We can set the boat down right in the valley and do business under her. That'll stymie any but the best snipers, especially if we spot 'em before we land and angle the ship to block them."
"Good notion," River grinned as she found an area that would suit them, wide enough for the Sanguine but narrow enough that it would make riding past the ship difficult. "Due at eleven hundred hours. Preparation for the job, load the seed, secure Dog… arrive at eleven hundred and fifteen?"
"Works for me." He gave her a smirk. "This should be fun."
"Can't kill everyone who tries to double cross us, or there'll be no one left in the 'Verse to do business with," She shook her head at him, giggling a bit as she rose from the co-pilot's seat.
"But I can kill enough of 'em to make 'em think twice," He called to her as she went to get started on the job preparations and River laughed again. Some might call him bloodthirsty, macabre or ghoulish, but his sense of humor tickled hers. Sardonic, dry and biting wit as sharp as his shivs, he always made her laugh.
Patience was an old woman, with leathery looking skin and long salt and pepper hair, more salt than pepper these days. Riddick eyed her and the three fellows on horseback alongside her and looked at Kitten.
"Patience should not try my bàng jiār's temper today," Kitten remarked casually as the horses drew closer.
"Just here to do business is all," Patience nodded to them both in what was a semi-polite manner.
"Yeah? Them snipers you got on either ridge for business? Looks more like an ambush," Riddick stared at the woman and could smell her nerves. She'd never seen silver eyes like his. Didn't know what they meant, only that they played on her worries, like prey in front of a strange predator her instincts were screaming. His slow, deliberately wicked smile did nothing to abate that sensation. He wondered if she expected to see fangs when he smiled.
"Just precautionary, in case you's to think to take the coin and the cargo with it," Patience was lying through her teeth but there really wasn't much else she could do. Not without giving away her own less than honorable intentions. From the look on her face this was the first time she'd been thwarted in this particular way and he made a note that she'd likely be more prepared the next time they did business. If they ever did business with her again. People who tried to doublecross them just made him want to sink his shiv into the sweet spot.
"Well the cargo's right here," Riddick nodded at the three crates of gen seed. "You hand over the platinum, four thousand square, an' we'll be gone."
Something of his annoyance must have shown in his expression, Patience shifted a bit uneasily as she spoke. "See now… four thousand seems a bit excessive, for seed I don't even know is any good." Patience was trying to haggle and he wasn't in the mood for it. His low snarl of irritation made the horses skittish and they shifted nervously under their riders. Dealing with people like this was a waste of their time and fuel. Even Kitten was getting aggravated, her scent twisting with it as she answered.
Kitten shook her head, "If Patience does not wish to pay our price then we will be gone. Other buyers offered five thousand plat but we were closer to Whitehall, thus Patience gets rights of first refusal." She stood, straight and slender next to the bulky crates and stared the older woman down. "Four thousand plat or no genseed. Your choice." He nearly smirked at her dismissive tones, his Kitten had a spine of steel and no one could stare her down. Sexy as hell.
Patience sighed and her gaze shifted slightly to the ridgelines, as if checking to see whether or not her snipers could get a good angle. Riddick growled a warning as Kitten took a step forward, teasing the snipers with a view of her side. "Can shoot them before they even squeeze the trigger," She warned the older woman. "Your reputation precedes you, Patience. We've heard how you like to take the goods and keep your coin. Your tricks won't work on us."
"What's to stop us from shootin' you down where you stand?" One of Patience's men, with a big mouth and small brain, blustered.
"Well," Riddick drawled as he drew his side arms and Kitten drew hers. "There's that." He couldn't help the smirk that stretched his lips this time. Nothing prettier than Kitten with a gun or shiv, nothing sexier than that look of 'try me and I'll kill you' on her gorgeous face.
"Shoot us and you'll find out which is the first of you to die." Kitten had one gun pointed squarely at Patience. "Or you could just pay us and go on your merry with your lives and the seeds."
Patience was stymied and she knew it. The bag of coin she threw down to Kitten's feet was heavy with platinum and Kitten crouched to pick it up without moving her eyes or gun from Patience.
"Go ahead, check it," Riddick spoke aloud more for the benefit of the group of idiots than his partner. "I got them." He eyed the group and found himself hoping they'd move, make some attempt, give him an excuse to scratch this itch for violence they'd caused. Thankfully the Wrath wasn't as sensitive to his irritation as it was his fury. He'd have to be in a killing rage for it to begin pulsing under his skin. Funnily enough, being around Kitten, he hadn't felt like that in a while. That was a good thing when he figured what the Wrath might do to a ship. They hadn't tested it but he doubted it would be a good thing.
She nodded and opened the pouch, a quick pour of the coin out onto the top of the crates revealed it was all platinum, no rocks or dross to fatten the purse. "We're good." She scooped the money back into the pouch and tied it to her belt backing into the cargo bay alongside Riddick. "You can retrieve your seeds after our doors are shut." She informed Patience. "Next time we do business, if there's a next time, you try this trick again, we'll just shoot you."
"I wouldn't mind shootin' 'em now," Riddick growled as he backed up into the bay and hit the controls for the doors.
"Don't waste bullets," Kitten admonished him and slanted a grin in his direction as the cargo bay door slammed shut.
"That went well," He remarked with a dark grin. "Still think it'd be more fun to shoot 'em."
"Next time." His little partner suggested. "Patience is not one to learn new tricks."
"Well now there's somethin' to look forward to," Riddick chuckled.
Author's Note: So Riddick has met Patience. I don't think he likes her much. But then again, there are very few people Riddick really likes besides Dog and his Kitten/River. I think most people he can take or leave and the ones who try to cheat him he'd like to leave bleeding in the dirt. Can't say I blame him. I hope you enjoyed this. I'm hoping to establish a pattern of behavior with these two, lots of preparation, trying to take advantage of every opportunity they have and very protective of each other, neither of them really knowing why beyond 'my partner'. Of course even prior planning and paranoia can be stymied by something unexpected or plain dumb luck, so they won't have smooth sailing all the time. Next chapter we've got a bit of set up for something later in the story and after that… well… After that we meet some old friends.
Chinese Translations:
bàng jiār (partner)