Chapter 25
Crichton
Stumbling over another rock, John fell onto his face. "Ok, that makes two hundred and seventeen steps, and fourteen, no fifteen trips and falls! Damn it!" He slowly got to his feet and peered about the gloom where either his eyes had become hugely sensitive or there was some light source here. He released that his fingertips were faintly glowing and running his hands over rock wall, made dark appear streaks there. "Must be lichen or something. A mold or a glowing fungus?" His fingers glowed faintly, most visibly under his nails. "Ok I'm now my own flashlight. Take that Eveready."
Once more he trekked along the rock wall, counting his steps, and all the while the faint sound he was following got a little louder with each of them. It sounded like rock on rock with occasional clinks of a metal tool. The tunnel continued on a slight downhill slope. Occasionally it dropped off a few feet at a time, and then attained the original inclination and John had grown tired on the march. "Breakfast was a long time ago and I'm really thirsty. I don't suppose there's a Pepsi machine down here?"
His voice echoed more loudly to his ears and he sensed the cavern grow larger. "Hey!" he yelled out and as the echo died away he muttered, "Oh, what's the use?"
He sat down on the floor, tucked his knees to his chest and rested his head on them. "I am so tired, so damn tired. There is not one thing in this universe that makes any damn sense. Ever since that wormhole got me…" he shook his head sadly. He inhaled deeply and blew the air out. "But if it hadn't I'd never have made knew friends!" That made him laugh so in a stentorian voice added, "Rygel XVI, Dominar of all the Hynerian Empire! Little conniving, cheating, slug with the horrible habits of every pickpocket, con artist, and thief within a thousand light years! And then there's Crais - Bialar Crais - my ole buddy Crais, who would have your head on a spike if he could get his hands on you! Then on to my real friends. You got to have friend out here, or anywhere. You have Pilot, a twelve foot high crab joined to a living star ship called Moya, a giant blue stalk of a woman named Zhaan, a priestess no less, who every time you turn around has another amazing super power! And Ka D'Argo, six foot plus and angry, most of the time, but he's a good buddy to have in a tough spot. But don't ask him why paper covers rock; alien thinking, I guess." He chuckled remembering trying to teach the Luxan the scissors - paper - rock game. "Maybe he'll get it in the end or maybe not," he said gloomily.
He raised his face and looked into the dimness which seemed to be a little brighter than before. "And then there is Aeryn; Aeryn Sun," he moaned. "What am I going to do about her? That gal kicked your ass the first time you met, and spent monens apparently hating your guts, but speaking out for you what was got her branded outcast by that bastard Crais. So you owe the woman, John. And then there's the whole attraction thing…"
He toyed with some dirt on his knees, now sitting cross legged. "Oh yeah. A - trac - tion! Wow. Just the one time…" Back on the faux-Earth they had made love, well he had. She had called it recreating. "Poor thing, doesn't even know about love. Sheesh." He stood and dusted at his pants. "But she does know how to make it." The thought of her smooth skin, scars and all made him sigh once more. "Face it John, the woman is tough, a crack shot, an ace pilot plus complicated, trouble, and…" he gulped, "lovely." He shook his head. "And 'fess up, Crichton, you'd walk through fire to save her. Even though she didn't like the flowered dress you had her put on," which was part of their failed escape plan back on faux-Earth. "Maybe black is her color?"
Crichton shook his head and wondered what Zhaan and Rygel were doing back on Moya. Probably given all of you up for dead, he thought, but then he said "but I hope not."
"Enough of that John, because it sure won't get you out of this hole any sooner." His hand brushed across his empty holster. "But I sure wish I had my pistol, even if I am a lousy shot, according to Aeryn."
He stood, cracked his neck, and squared his shoulders. "Ok now. Back to the quest. Lead on Kirk! There has to be a Horta down here somewhere! Now if they only didn't spit acid," he laughed.
"Now," he sighed, "where was I? Oh, yeah," he took a step forward. "Two hundred and eighteen. Back into optimistic mode," he added grimly and kept walking and counting.
Notes:
Eveready = Eveready Battery Company.
Monens = A period of time, made up of five weekens, each of which is ten solar days.
Horta = A fictional, rock-eating, acid-secreting, and intelligent creature made of silicon that tangled with Kirk and Spock in the original Star Trek episode "Devil in the Dark."