The Prophecy
Author: Keren Ziv
Disclaimer: I don't own Farscape, I wish I did, but I don't.
Rating: G
Category: action/adventure, I guess.
Author's Note: Here is the next one. I hope it's up to snuff. I need a beta, damnit! And not the type who offer and then never do anything.
Part .02
In a house of the deepest poverty, on a night that was storming so violently that the panes in the windows rattled and from the ceiling waters dripped with a consistency unmatched ever before, there was a born a child in the town of Tiatcon.
The infant was unwanted in general, but particularly because it was of the female sex. Her parents had hoped for a male child who might be able to help his father with the farming which supported their lifestyle , however meager it was in actuality. They were so disappointed by their daughter that they left the naming of the girl to the raxura who preformed her Christening. The raxura, a kindly one who followed the words of Miráke before they were widely known, named her Exhilaration As A Girl.
Giaun with her black eyes shining may not have been the boy that her parents had hoped for, but in her own way she surpassed any wishes that they could have dreamed up. She proved to have a difficult disposition as an infant, who squirmed and threw fits, though never voicing her apparent anguish in the normal squalls a young one has. Neighbors dropped in with solutions for the colic, and, once it became clear that little Giaun was not becoming better with all of the colic remedies that were known, they began to leave medicines and herbs that were known to clear the soul of a Changeling infant.
Out of desperation, Giaun's mother and father, who were then known as T'lexin and Rovert, and prepared to throw the child into the fire and cast out whatever Folk had inhabited her body. Their last hope before the flames was to have a raxura cast Miráke into her body. As the raxura began his prayers before Giauna, who had not slept for many days, T'lexin was already thick with child to replace Giaun. The raxura brought out his alters and figures of the Workers of Miráke and prayed for three days and nights at the cradle in the large room for the soul of Giaun, only a cycle old.
At first, through the prayers and rituals that the raxura preformed, Giaun was restless and ill-acted. By the second day she listened quietly, with her bright eyes open and fixed on the edge of her cradle. The third day, she closed her eyes and breathed easily. T'lexin and Rovert prostrated themselves at the ground in thanks for Miráke and gifted the raxura with the humble offerings which they were able to afford.
Raxura Míkael'klen left the home of Rovert with the tale of a savage child turned meek by the word of Miráke. Many of the few who strayed in their tasks to listen to the story disbelieved its variability, casting it aside as an exaggerated piece of truth fashioned to call people to the religion of Miráke.
Soon, Giaun came of the age of words, and her family waited for her to speak, perhaps first the name of T'lexin or Rovert, or perhaps first to name a common-day object. However, one cycle passed, and two, and she uttered not a sound. The people began to whispers of the girl who had been exorcised at the price of her voice. Giaun with her black eyes shining was four cycles old when she first spoke and dispelled the vicious rumors of muteness.
She was gathering wood with the local children when a man of Gleaño stepped upon a stump from a felled tree and began preaching the words of his faith. The children generally ignored this evil Sinner, being much to young to care much for the adult path of religions, but Giaun stood still in the center of the gathering ground, her wood dropped haphazardly at her feet and her black eyes closed.
The others soon gathered her fallen wood into their own arms and left her alone in the grounds. The Sinner stepped from his platform of nature and ambled over the Giaun. He reached out a long finger to touch her face.
"Little Daughter, do my words move you so?" he asked affectionately, stroking her gray cheek tenderly.
Giaun screamed; one high, unbroken note. People working in the fields glanced up, then dropped their work and ran towards the sound of the shrill voice. When the arrived at the location, they found a wide-eyed Sinner, trying desperately to explain his faults. T'lexin grabbed Giaun and shook her; once; twice; a third time until her eyes opened and her breath ran short.
Giaun's black eyes were cold as she surveyed the group before her, her body trembling. T'lexin was sobbing at her feet, thanking Miráke that he had given her daughter a voice to speak as other Nebari. Rovert took Giaun's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it.
"And the hands of the Sinner were as Tarkaan's as they slid the fire across my flesh and burned the layers protecting my soul, trying to rip it away with a furious pull." A silence met Giaun's speech, for she had spoken a passage of the holy book of Miráke. Quietly, T'lexin and Rovert ushered Giaun away from the crowd and into their home.
Giaun spoke more, but her words were hushed and few. Perhaps people were frightened that she would speak the text of Miráke against her, for not many dared make her cross. In her fourth and fifth years, all of Tiatcon and many in the neighboring villages converged to Miráke, and many a believer flocked to the house of Raxura Míkael'klen to hear his tale of the infant girl possessed by Tarkaan.
When Giaun was of age to go to weekenly services to the Temple of the Tiatcon and worship her Lord Miráke, she was carefully given several new dresses to wear, in the many layers that was fashionable for young children to attire themselves in. Like a dutiful daughter, Giaun wore the dresses.
When she reached the Temple of Tiatcon, where the Miráke was the only god worshipped, Giaun stopped before the doorway of the Temple and spoke. "O my father," she said in a lilt voice, "why must I dress above those in the corner?" and Giaun pointed to the back pews left for those who were not land owners and therefore could not be full members of the Temple.
"O my dearest daughter and the light of my eyes," her father replied, "those people do not own the earth and work it to pay for their memberships into the Temple. Without land, they cannot be members of the Temple and must sit in the back."
"Are they sinners, my father?" Giaun asked. A few of those in the corner who heard her glanced up and viewed her for a few moments before they averted their eyes. This daughter of the land was dressed in her finest so that she may enter the House of Miráke. Giaun raised her voice when her father did not answer. "Father?"
"No, my daughter." The admission was unwilling. "They are not sinners." Rovert laid a heavy hand on Giaun's shoulders. "Come on, now," he told her. "We have to head on up to the alter to offer your first gift."
"Father, you must understand what I am about to say to you," Giaun said in a thick whisper. "I feel so unworthy at the moment. I must humble myself before Miráke." She bowed her head. Rovert watched her, her closely cropped hair smooth on her head. Carefully, and slowly, Giaun removed all of her dresses until she was in her under-robes. Fastidiously folding the outer-robes and dresses she had been wearing, she placed them at the end of the pew.
"I feel more worthy to accept his love," Giaun said. "From now on, I will dress as this while I worship Miráke. It is the only way to fully be in tune with our Lord Miráke." Giaun serenely sat cross-legged on the mats arranged the floor of the pew. "These mats are so much more comfortable than those hard benches up front must me, Father; please join me. I feel closer to Miráke and his earth already. I feel true humility."
"My name is Urnia Thali, born to Corte'in and her husband Marizpu," Thali spoke quietly. She disentangled herself from John, then walked backwards, slowly, and reached into the ship. D'argo tensed, a low, menacing growl coming out of him. Smiling slowly, Thali took out a dark black piece of cloth, then fastened it around her shoulders with the top button. When it fell freely, it reached ankles. John was strongly reminded of a medieval witch's outfit that children of Earth often dressed in for Halloween.
"I am ten cycles old, as of almost exactly four monen ago." Thali began button the rest of the cloak. "I was born and lived all my life in A'runki, the capital of Nebar. As you may know," Thali motioned towards Chiana, "A'runki is the governmental and religious center of Nebar." Thali's soft smile turned hard and she closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she hugged herself and rubbed her arms. "I grew up in the Temple of Giaun, raised as a Prodigy."
"Less likely than one would think," Jool spoke. "As Chiana pointed out, you are quite young to be a Giauna. And I haven't heard any news of a new Prodigy. And even if you are a Prodigy, you'd be out training for your eleven cycle."
"And how many cycles were you a Popsicle?" John asked. Jool gave a sharp outtake of breath, but held her tongue. "Thought so. You didn't have that 'fridge wired for news reels."
"Do you think I had a choice on whether or not I wanted to be a Prodigy?" Thali spoke sharply, then drew the hood of her cloak over her head, leaving only a shadowed face. It reminded John of a turtle withdrawing into it's shell when threatened. "I was selected at three weekens. I was raised in the Temple from that day on; never setting foot outside unless it was on and off the launch for the ships that I had to train on." She began walking towards the door into the corridor. John matched her stride, which was slow and almost thoughtful. "It's cold."
John glanced around at the others, but he didn't see anyone with a face that looked as though they had the same opinion. Jool looked slightly affronted, probably still hurt from when he'd teased her; D'argo looked anxious to get back to his ship, nothing more; Chiana looked . . . nervous. But not cold. None of them looked cold, or even slightly chilled.
"Pilot, wanna raise the temperature a few degrees?" John asked. Chiana raised an eyebrow at him. John gave her a half-grin, saying without words what she knew. It's a kid, Chi, you know that. I take care of kids.
"The temperature would be less than optimum, but not to the immediate discomfort of anyone on Moya," Pilot said. "There, I've raised it by three degrees. That should be within the comfort range."
"Thanks, Pilot," John said, walking into the dining area. "You look half starved, Thal. How would you like something to eat? Then you can talk once you're feeling better." Jool gave a hiss of disapproval but didn't say anything, obviously not wanting another snubbing by John so soon after the first.
Chiana walked to the refrigeration unit and took out some food cubes. Reaching into the cupboards, she brought out a plate and a cup. She tossed the cup to D'argo, with instruction for him to fill it, before setting a helping of food cubes in front of Thali. "Eat."
The clear look of uncertainty Thali gave the platter reminded D'argo of how John had looked when he had first come aboard Moya; amusing him almost to a level that he laughed out loud. He hastily cleared his throat to hide the chuckle that had come unbidden.
"What is it?" Thali asked after a moment of observation. She picked up a cube and took a tentative bite before putting it down on the plate. Chiana watched as the girl swallowed without chewing.
"They're called food cubes. You haven't ever had them before?" John grabbed a few off of her plate and threw them up into the air, catching them with his mouth. A peal of laughter came from Thali. John stood and bowed. "Thank you. Thank you. You like me. You really, really, like me!" He clutched his chest dramatically.
"Crichton, stop behaving like a child," Chiana scolded. "You look farhbot; you know that, don't you?" She pushed him down in his chair. Grinning, John grabbed her wrist and pulled her down on top of him, pinning her arms to her side. "Jo-o-hn," Chiana squealed indignantly. "Stop!"
John released her, giving her a shove that sent her tumbling onto Jool. Chiana straightened her clothing and glared at John from her new perch on the other side of the table. "I think," she said sniffle, "that you asked the girl a question."
"Uh, yes," said Thali, appearing flustered at having the attention thrown back at her. "I've never even heard of food cubes before. My education and life was sheltered." She hooked her long hair behind her ears. For the first time, John noticed that her hair was the longest he had ever seen on a Nebari. He tried to recall where it had reached to her back, but she hadn't turned around without having the cloak on. "The taste is interesting."
"Why do you say that your life was sheltered?" John asked, snatching another food cube and tossing it up into the air. This time, he purposely missed the cube and caught it just below his chin.
"I never left the Temple." It was the second time she had said this. John cast a side glance at Chiana, his only Nebari-link to the girl. Chiana, however, was busy with her fingernails and chose not to look up. "I grew up immersed in my religion; taught extensively in past histories of Nebar; tutored in mathematics and sciences; yet, I was never given access to the knowledge that there was any real difference between the cycles I studied and the ones I was living."
John glanced at Thali. "You're how old?" he asked in a strangled voice. "I couldn't pronounce those words until I was about twelve years old, and I was fourteen before I even started any real schooling in them."
Chiana giggled, as much from John's use of years instead of cycles as from any real mirth. "Don't worry, John," said Chi in a comforting tone. She leaned over and pulled Thali's hood down; Thali remained stationary, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "I didn't stay in school long enough to study them. Frell, I don't think I stayed on Nebar long enough to study them." Chiana gave a short laugh.
Thali looked down on her plate. Slowly, she spoke. "I'm sure Miráke forgives you for your unconscious rudeness towards me," she said. Chi gave her a grin and a cocked eyebrow. "You don't touch the hair of a Giuana, nor even a raxura, unless you are dressing it."
Chiana tipped her head to the side and stood up. She walked over to Thali. "I thought you didn't want to be a Giauna anymore," she said. "Why should me touching your hair bother you?" She reached out and took a long piece of the thick hair and drew a finger down it.
Thali bowed her head in submission. "Forgive me," she said in a low monotone. "I am ill-prepared for the behaviors I've encountered. I will try hard to comprehend and learn to act as you do."
"Pip," John said in a dangerous voice, "stop being mean to her. She doesn't understand. She's not used to being treated normal even by Giauna standards, if I caught on right. You said you were a Prodigy. That's why you were given the ten month study guide instead of the yearlong course?"
"Excuse me?" Thali looked at John with a bewildered expression on her face. He wondered if she was purposely changing the subject. "I haven't encountered those words before. Would you care to fill me in as to their meanings in Commonday?"
Chiana grinned and desisted with Thali's hair, instead going to ruffle John's affectionately. "John grew up in . . . let's just say he crew up on an isolated colony in the uncharteds that developed it's own dialect. Months can be translated into monen; years can be interpreted as cycles."
"Wow, Pip, I didn't know you knew all those words apart, let along strung together like that in a compound sentence," John said, putting his feet on the table and his hands behind his head in his usual laid back fashion. Chiana smirked. "You're been working on your homework, haven't you? Mighty proud o' ya, honey."
Chiana pushed his chair over before leaving the room. John gave a yelp of protest as he was thrown to the floor. "I'll be in my room, talking to DRDs, if anyone needs me," she said without a backwards glance. D'argo and Jool glanced at John, who shrugged with a grin. They knew what Pip was talking about.
Thali watched the scene, fascinated. These people spoke so many different tongues, yet they all understood each other. If she had not been school in Ancient Nebari, Commonday, Luxan, Delvian, Interon, Scarran, and Sebecean before she was allowed her translator microbes to be reactivated, she would not have been able to tell the difference in them.
Except for the Sebecean. He was different. His words were no Sebecean, no matter what any person might tell her. Thali knew that he spoke not only a different language, but a different dialect than Sebeceans. The use of ye'er, of munth; that odd accent he had; the way he drew out his vowels in a slow manner; all pointed to a non-Sebecean colony, perhaps of Sebecean-Interon/Interon-Sebecean half-breeds.
Yes, that could be it. Thali picked up the food cube she had dropped while watching Chiana push John over. The act had been brazen and shocking to Thali, but she watched it with a rather pleased feeling. Thali took a bite. Eurgh. She would never get used to this food.
She wished herself six cycles old again; naive enough to think that everyone would always treat her as she was used to; knowledgeable enough to know that she was a very lucky child. Thali hadn't known it then, but her days of luck grew shorter and shorter as her years grew longer and longer.
John had turned back to her. "So," he said, taking another food cube, "tell me more about your childhood. What did you do besides study? Or is that all you did? Read? Read? Read?"
Impassively, Thali watched him. For some odd reason, this Sebecean who might not have been raised a Sebecean gave her a sort of half-thrill. He had caused her to laugh, something that she thought she had forgotten to do many cycles ago. Finally, she spoke, because she knew that he would get impatient with her. "I had recreational activities." John choked on his snack. Thali paused, then slapped him on the back, firmly. "Are you feeling better?" she asked him.
She noticed that Jool and D'argo were snorting; so this was the way that they treated shipmates around here. Thali wondered what the other crewmembers would be like. Possibly there would be some younger ones, to teach her how to play those games she had seen little Nebari children playing from the window in her quarters.
"I'm sorry," he said. Thali wondered why he would be apologizing. She looked at him, waiting for him to further explain his actions. "It's just that . . . did you say recreate?" D'argo let out a guffaw of suppressed laughter and Jool had turned bright red.
"Yes." No use asking them to give her more details. With the way that this Commander Crichton talked, she'd get the full story in a few microts. She wondered how a man with such a unreserved personality had climbed the ranks so easily. She concluded that he must have made the men love him, like Tsarin of Blein'i, the fearless leader who had gone first into battle and last into camp while the Holy Wars were first being fought.
"It's just that 'recreation' is used by Peacekeepers to mean, uh, the act of, uh, sexual intercourse." John looked down while he spoke. Thali smiled, then she frowned. She knew that the act of frowning caused her to look unattractive, and that the commoners would react well to rule if she were approachable looking, but she couldn't help it.
"This Leviathan has no control collar on it," she said. "I do know this much from my studies of histories Peacekeepers always place a control collar on their captive Leviathans. Otherwise, the pilot of the Leviathan may flush everyone out into space, Starburst away, and find freedom. If a Leviathan initiates Starburst with a collar on, the effects are . . . deadly."
Thali began coughing. Listening too it, Jool got an odd look on her face as she listened to Thali. "That sounds like a very bad cough you have," Jool said, rising. "Perhaps if you'd follow me to the med bay I can find some herbs to treat you with. It sounds as if "
"I thank you for your consideration, but I am perfectly fine." Thali said it quietly, her eyes cast downward in a submissive manner. "I just have a bit of a cough at the moment." Thali glanced at her small arm, then pushed up a sleeve to her long robes. She studied a wristwatch for a moment before pulling her sleeves back down.
Crichton made no mention of the fact that she had a wristwatch. He didn't want to appear ignorant; though, he did have a sneaking suspicion that D'argo was interested in the watch. Jool just glanced at it and walked out, muttering something about knowing a bad cough when she heard one and Thali would be come crawling to her when the time was right.
Thali pushed her plate of food cubes away from her. Wordlessly, she got up and away from the table and walked to the doorway. She stood there for a moment, looking at D'argo and John.
"I'm not breeching protocol when I ask to be lead to my bedroom, am I?" Giaun asked in a thin voice. She placed a hand on her gaunt neck and took a deep breath. John and D'argo jumped up, scrambling to take her to her quarters.
"Sorry, we weren't thinking," John said, flashing her an apologetic grin. He gave her a wink as they walked the corridors in her slow gait. It was catching, the way she moved smoothly, as if she were on camera and wanted to make certain that every frame caught her essence. Of course, she was a little ten year old kid who'd come out of the middle of nowhere and had no idea what Earth was, so he doubted that was why she moved smoothly. Itwas, he reflected, something she probably learned at the temple.
"Obviously not." It took D'argo a moment to figure out if she was joking or not. He decided that she was joking, so he let out a low chuckle of appreciation. He stopped at a doorway into some quarters and keyed them open.
"Here you go," he said. Thali walked into the room, looking around her with bright eyes. A DRD was following her surreptitiously, but she gave it no other than a customary glance before her eyes rested on the bed.
"Is it always so far off the floor?" Thali walked to the bed, jumped up, and sat down. Her feet dangled from the edge of the bed. "I'm not exactly sure if this will be safe." Thali didn't elaborate.
"Don't worry about falling; if you do, I'm sure a DRD will alert Pilot. Right Pilot?" John spoke the last part into his comms. Thali tilted her head, trying to take in the shape and the workings of the comm. D'argo saw her pupils dilate and traced her gaze to the comms.
"Yes, Commander Crichton. I have already assigned a DRD to monitor Thali, at the request of Jool," Pilot said, his voice low and steady, as if he was busy with other things.
"We'll be locking you in your room," John said, moving to the door and sidestepping the DRD neatly. "Watch it, bud. Anyway, it's just a security precaution. We don't know you, you don't know us, anything could happen."
D'argo saw her gulp and close her eyes. She moved her lips silently before speaking again. "I will be fine with this," Thali told them. "I will be able to manage." John had no idea what she meant by this melodramatic statement, but an understanding came to D'argo's eyes.
"She hasn't been left alone before," he said simply. John looked at Thali sharply. "Raxura are always surrounded by their fellow students. They are not allowed to be alone because suicides were not uncommon when the religion became more complex and harder to learn." Thali said nothing. "And she's probably had guards with her at all times. She is was valuable to them."
Thali shook her heads. "No, not guards. Never guards. I had teachers." I had teachers, she thought, but they never taught me anything beyond what I could have read for myself. They only watched me and punished me, but never taught me.
"Do you want me to get one of the girls to bunk with you until you get used to it?" John had paused at the door, his hand resting on the framings. "I'll comm Chiana." He waited, his blue eyes on her expectantly.
No. Chiana didn't trust Thali. That much was plain. What had happened to Chiana to make her so distrusting of her own people? When she had been growing up, everyone had been polite to her; quiet and soft-spoken; respectful; almost too much so for Thali's liking. Yet that was the way things were. She never imagined that having someonenot treat you as a Prodigy wasn't exactly what one would hope for.
"No," she said. "I'll be okay. I flew the ship over by myself, didn't I?" She went to her bed and removed the cloak she had been wearing, once again dressed in only her robes. She rubbed herself and then watched the two men.
"Uh, yes," said D'argo, "so, we'll be going now. You can draw the privacy curtain like this " D'argo demonstrated, "and we'll probably get you a comm in the morning. Is everything okay?"
For a microt, John thought he heard a high-pitched screeching sound, but it was gone almost instantaneously. "I'm fine," Thali said, pausing her hands at the first top button behind her heavy braids. John decided that he must have been imagining things and left.
(asterisk)
The next morning when Jool got up, she went to D'argo in the corridors and asked where Thali had been left. "I want to give her a medical examination," she explained, "because I really do think that she's sick, even if she denies it."
"I think," D'argo said, "that you are just being pushy. Thali is fine." Jool vehemently denied this accusation, in a loud and high-pitched tone. "I take it back," D'argo said, smiling at her. "While you're at Thali's quarters, could you drop off a comms for her?" He told her which room Thali was in and strode down the corridor towards breakfast.
"Luxans," muttered Jool. "You really can't have a normal conversation with them. And yet without them, there would be a gaping whole left in the histories and evolutions of the universe." She turned a corner and came face to face with Crichton.
"Same as all guys. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em." Crichton, as usual, made little sense, but Jool said nothing and walked on, carrying the comm in her hand. If John Crichton wanted to say enigmatic things, she wasn't going to ask him to explain it.
When she reached the room that D'argo had specified, she keyed open the door and walked in. She found Thali sitting in the middle of the floor, staring at the DRD. "Pilot, how long has she been like that?" Jool asked with a quirky grin.
"For about an arn and a half." Pilot's voice contained mirth as he continued. "It didn't seem to be all that strange, so I didn't tell anyone about it."
"What are you doing, Thali?" Jool asked, sitting cross-legged next to her. Thali glanced up and then looked back at the DRD. "I have your comm for you," Jool said, handing it to her.
"Thank you." Thali took the comm and fixed it on her collar. "I'm trying to figure out the diagnostic repair drone. It seems to have personality, yet it also seems so mechanical. I cannot figure out if it has a soul or not."
"It's a part of Moya," Jool said gently. "It's what gives her the ability to see us . . . and they repair her and . . ." Jool continued along this vein for some time. Thali stayed sitting, listening politely and offering no commentary until the end.
"I beg your pardon, Jool, but I knew that information." Jool was miffed, but Thali smiled as she stood up. "I did like hearing it from a fresh perspective, though. Thank you for taking the time to tell me these things." Thali walked out of the room and down the corridor. "I would appreciate being taken to my ship. I left some things on it that are invaluable to me."
Jool jogged and caught up with Thali. "Yes," she gasped. "I'll take you to your ship. I do have some questions for you about your ship. You didn't answer very many questions last night."
"My ship first, questions later, please," Thali said sharply. Then she stopped walking. "I apologize for having such a short temper with you. I will try to prevent it from happening again."
Jool gave a shrug. "It happens more times than I'd care to admit on this ship. Moya is a big place without a full crew, but having this many people with each other at all times can be a bit unnerving." She keyed open a door and saw Thali scan it anxiously for her craft. "Over there, in the corner."
"Thank you." Jool gave an inward sigh. This girl kept asking for forgiveness over the oddest things, and frequently. Jool watched as Thali climbed into the ship an opened the hatch.
"Jool, where are you?" Chiana's voice came over the comms slightly irritated. "And where is Thali? She isn't in her room and D'argo said that you were going to give her a med check, but you aren't in the med bay, either."
"We're at her vehicle, Chiana, and she's getting some things out that she says she needs." Jool pulled a hair out of her own mouth and scowled. She heard Chiana give an exasperated sigh.
"Well, just don't let her try to take off in it," Chiana said, sounding as if she were only half joking. Jool ignored the remark and glanced at the craft. Thali had really been in the ship for quite a long time. Jool scrambled up into the ship and glanced around.
It looked to be a simple cargo ship, upon first examination. There weren't any things in the ship that looked to be out of place. Ducking under a low doorway, she glanced around for Thali. Jool didn't see her, so she looked for a possible room off the main area. Opening the first door she came too, she saw Thali sitting in a chair, packing several syringes into a black box.
"What in the world are you doing?" Jool asked, the panic and annoyance in her voice rising. She rushed forward to Thali and grabbed one of the syringes she had and looked at it.
Without pausing, Thali picked up another syringe and placed it in the black box. "I'm packing up the medical supplies I brought with me. Vitamins and other such things. I don't think that should be too much of a problem." Thali's voice lost none of the calmness and serenity that it had given at all other occasions.
"This isn't just vitamins," Jool said sagely, "this is golitczerum. It treats golitcz, which is a quite deadly and rare Nebari disease characterized by fatigue, heart palpations, thickening of mucus in the lungs, chronic pain, and eyes that are colored differently and see specks or spots in front of them. It is a genetic mutation that children are born with and the symptoms don't arrive until the child is six or seven cycles old."
"You do know a lot about Nebari health," Thali said quietly. "I've never met anyone who isn't a Nebari or a Sebecean before. No Sebecean was interested in knowing anything about Nebari health or religion. I am under the vague recollection that Interons are a peaceful race who don't believe in weaponry: that would mean that you would have plenty of time to create an intellectually superior race."
Jool gave her a genuine smile while placing the syringe into the black box. "I was a quite a student among my peers," she said. "But that is beside the point. Why do you have these things? I can see where you'd want to bring vitamins, but these bottles " she pointed to several shelves full of bottles labeled with various things, "are for golitczerum and korinchaerum and yeoliterum, all of which are very rare."
"I brought these things to make certain that I would always be prepared. We had several of each of these and I knew that wherever I went, they would not be as well stocked as we were. I believe in always being prepared. If you aren't prepared, what will happen? Then you will find someone on a planet that suffers from korincha or something equally as dangerous and you won't have the medical supplies to help them."
"That's ideological. And highly illogical. Those diseases are so increasingly rare that the odds of finding someone with the problem are so small that it's insignificant." Jool grabbed the two boxes that they had filled and walked out the room. "Korincha is characterized by thickening of the lips and tongue, loss of control over eye muscles, weakening ability to flex your fingers, and a rather horrible habit of coughing up blood. I couldn't imagine ever finding someone in the universe with it on our travels."
Thali gave a shrug. "Well, it might. And wouldn't you be sorry if you threw those out the disposal like they were yesterday's garbage?" Thali walked out of the room and shut the door. Going to a white plate about the doorknob, she palmed it. It glowed red for a few microts before turning back to white. Answering the questioning look that Jool shot her, Thali said, "It locks the door. Come on, I'll go and finish my story to you all."
Jool followed Thali's slow and methodical walk out of the ship with a sense of something hidden beyond her line of vision. Whatever it was, Jool was confident she would find it.
Walking the corridors into the command with his usual gait of boyishness, Crichton came just in time to see Chiana scowling into the walls of Moya. Tiptoeing up to her, he put his hands over her eyes.
"Guess who," he said in a high pitched voice. "Don't forget to take into fact I melt metal." Crichton blew into her hair and caused it to fly up a bit, grinning. Chiana wasn't as amused as Crichton was, though, and showed it when she reached up and dug her nails into his flesh.
"John," she said in a steely voice. He backed up a step and looked at her as she turned to face him, her eye flashing dangerously. "I am not in the mood for your little games. I don't trust that 'Giauna' as far as I can throw her." She bit her lip; suddenly aware of an Earth expression she had used. "Frankly, Crichton," Chiana tipped her head to the right, "she came here like a barken out of hezmana and I'd like to know why. She's a Giauna, if we are to believe that at least. There are too many unanswered questions forthat line of thoughts."
"I know, Pip, and that's why we're going to ask questions. Questions are good, remember?" Crichton touched the tip of her nose before giving it a tweak. "C'mon, it's been, what, a day since she came aboard? You're acting as if she's going to blow us all up in holy war." Ouch, he shouldn't have given her that thought.
"Taking life for the sake of Miráke is one of the Nine Holy Grievances. He finds it amusing, but nothing more. I highly doubt that Nebari would waste a body just to take down us." Chiana walked into command and sat down heavily. "It's just that there are too many things I can't figure out."
"The most pressing being?" John sat down next to her and touched her elbow, making it clear that he wanted her face him while she was talking. He smiled when she gave an exaggerated grimace and rearranged herself.
"How she came this far away from a Nebari colonization in such a small craft. I've never seen a craft that size able to starburst. It's a merchant, or cargo, craft, and it's usually part of convoy. You know, big ship with tens of tiny little ships in it goes to a planet, sends down supplies with tiny ships, then collects the ships and moves off. I've asked Pilot and he says that Moya didn't notice a convoy anywhere in her scanning area in the past monen and a half." Chiana pushed her hair out of her eyes.
"And why couldn't we see the craft? A ship that small has no cloaking device, nor does that give any reason for us not being able to actually see the craft once we had turned on the view screens." Chiana added more to her list of questions. "Of course," she said, "I could be totally out of proportion with this and she's telling the truth in everything."
John grinned, then pulled Chiana toward him and whispered, "I doubt you're ever wrong," before dashing away, leaving Chiana a heap in the middle of the chairs. Chiana good-naturedly muttered some dark curses towards him, but said nothing loud enough for him to hear.
Chiana heard an exclamation in the hall and Crichton's voice apologizing over something. She tilted her head towards the corridor and tried to figure what had happened. Chi gave a wry smile when she heard Thali's laughter and Jool's characteristic displeasure adding their voices to John's.
The three of them came in a few microts later, with Crichton telling Thali that she'd have to get some pants soon, else, "I wont be able to carry you on my shoulders like I used to do my kid sisters."
"I'll be too big before long," Thali said, smiling. "Then where will you be? You won't have anyone to carry on your shoulders or anything. Will it disappoint you terribly?" Thali swatted at something in front of her face, blinked, then continued speaking. "I'll try to stay as small as possible."
"Aw, don't worry about it, Holly Golightly," John said, walking over to Chiana with a grin on his face. "I've yet to see a Nebari who's very much bigger than Chi here. I think I could lift you for several cycles yet." As if to prove this fact, he leaned over and grabbed Chiana and placed her, squealing and kicking, on his shoulders. From her viewpoint over his shoulders, Chi saw Thali clapping her hands and laughing.
"Put " Chiana hit John, hard, on his shoulder, "me " another hit, "down!" She gave a furious call when he turned suddenly and faced Thali. "I swear, John Crichton, if you don't put me down this instant, you will never see Earth again! Your precious wormhole knowledge will be remembered forever as a blood spot in Moya's corridors."
"I know wormholes!" Thali said triumphantly. Chiana managed to roll off of John and onto the floor. Thali gave a sneeze. Crichton walked over to her and handed her a handkerchief.
"Sure, and so does half the known universe," Crichton said. "Blow," he instructed her. "You don't gotta cold, do ya, Holly-Doll?" He grabbed the handkerchief back from Thali and rubbed her nose with it until it was bright blue. She said stationary, her head slightly tipped, watching him.
"No," she said. "I don't have a cold. I am slightly chilly, but nothing like it was beforehand. I forgot my coverings in my room." Thali reached up and rubbed her nose. "Itches," she said, yawning.
Jool came forward. "We came to command because Thali said that she'd be answering some of the questions that we have for her. I myself have many questions I wish to pose to her." Jool's expression gave the impression that she wanted to have those questions answered first.
"Pilot," Chiana said, "could you please call D'argo into command?" She touched her index and middle fingers to her brow, then let her hands drop to her side.
"Certainly, Chiana," Pilot's voice came. After a microt: "D'argo is on his way to command. He seems, uh, distressed at having been called away once again from his module. His mood may be described as, uh, foul."
"Duly warned and notice taken," John said congenially, watching Thali yawn. "Thank you, Pilot." He turned to the group. "Maybe we should write down the questions we have for her, so if we forget them while waiting for our turn we can check 'em. Or," he added, "if we have doubles we could just toss them out the window."
"There aren't any windows here, John," Thali said. "At least, none that can open so that you may deposited your garbage. I wouldn't do it, even if they did open, because not only would that depressurize the room fairly quickly, it would also be littering, and that is not a good idea."
"Holly-doll, it's just a figure of speech." Crichton's blue eyes danced merrily as he turned to Thali. She bit her lower lip, apparently thinking hard.
"Oh," she said after a moment. "Now I feel rather silly." She cast her eyes downward, but a smile played up on her lips. Finally, she chuckled. "I should have seen that, shouldn't I have?"
Chiana reached over and placed a hand on Thali's shoulder. "It's okay, girl, I didn't catch it right away, either." D'argo came into the room. "Oh, there you are. Okay, D'argo, just write down questions you want to ask Thali."
"Oh," Crichton said suddenly. "We can have a lot draw after we're done with it. Think about it, we just write the questions down and then we put them in a hat and draw out the question we'll ask. Not just a hat," he said horridly, anticipating the crew's objections, "but a box or in a pile or whatever."
"I think it's a good idea," Jool said, after the briefest of pauses. "That way, nobody can bicker on how we picked his idea over hers, or visa versa. It's actually pretty well thought out, Crichton." The closed-lipped smile she flashed him indicated, along with her raised eyebrows, that she hadn't expected something of the sort from it.
"Why is it even the newest member of the crew can diss me?" Crichton asked sadly, giving the group a sorrowful look. Chiana tried her best to cover a smile and look as bored as possible; Jool gave a shrug; D'argo looked ready to tear him about; and Thali giggled.
"I think, Johnny-boy, it is because you are so obviously inferior to their species." Harvey was back; this time dressed in the same robes as Thali, except that they were black. He had a large white pillowcase in his hand. "They know that whatever they say will be true, and if it isn't true it will be so close to the truth that they can still say it."
"Harvey," John muttered to himself. Chiana's smile faded and she watched him, fascinated. Thali suddenly dropped to the floor and curled into a ball. Jool rushed to her side, where Thali was chanting. Chiana barely glanced away as D'argo tried to wake Thali. "Didn't know you were into the Ku Klux Klan."
"You pierce my heart, John," the neural clone said. He placed the hood on and grabbed the cross he had at his feet. "I am merely getting ready to celebrate Easter like the Spaniards do. Don't you remember from your trip to Spanish? Holy Week?" He placed the cross on his shoulders. "You are a burden that I must carry. Your sins are my sins, and, let's face it, your sins are plenty."
I don't have sins, John thought desperately. I've only been living the way that the universe is set up. It isn't my fault I have to kill to survive in the uncharted territories.
Chiana touched Crichton's shoulder. "John," she said. "No, what, John? What are you saying?" Crichton looked at her then, with a pained expression on his face, and she widened her eyes in fear. "John?" she asked, backing away.
"Pip, it's okay. I just, I saw Harvey and he was . . . he started preaching to me about my sins and it really pissed me off, ya know?" John touched her face. "I'm okay. I put him in the dumpsters, along with his holier-than-thou attitude." He turned and saw Thali. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, concerned.
Chiana looked down. "When you started your little mind conversation, she sort of followed suit. You two make a cute pair." She knelt by Thali's body and pinched her. "Wake up, girl. John's out of it."
Crichton sat down on the floor and pulled Thali into his lap. Soon, she stopped chanting and her eyes focused. "Hey, Doll, I think you need to take a chill pill. You can't go around scaring us like that."
"Her vitals had slowed," Jool said from his left. John shot her a look.
"I'm sorry, John, but I got scarred when you left." Thali shifted in his arms, then stood up slowly. Crichton scrambled after her. "You were there, I mean, but something else was too, and it took over part of you. It scared me."
"You could feel me?" John asked. Thali's eyes clouded over in confusion and he sighed. "Never mind," he told her. She nodded. Chiana shook her head in Crichton's direction; he squirmed under her displeasure. "Are you tired?" Crichton asked, when Thali yawned yet again. Jool stepped in and protested, saying that they were there to get answers to questions, not baby-sit a little girl. Crichton quieted her.
"No, I'm not tired," Thali said horridly. "Just my mouth is tired, not my whole body." She gave a puzzled look when everyone laughed, but nobody explained it to her and she didn't ask.
"Well, I think I'll take that mouth of yours to bed," Crichton said. D'argo gave a low growl in his throat and Thali protested. "Heavy D., man, this is just quicker way for you to get back to your ship. Besides, she's tired. You don't want her talking herself into a deep sleep, do ya?" D'argo turned and left the room. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty, I'll take you back to your room and tell you a story."
"What story?" Chiana asked, following them. Crichton smiled at her and Chiana blushed, realizing how childish she must have sounded.
"Sleeping Beauty. It's a Disney tale. After she's asleep, I'll tell you the Grimm Brother's version. Holly-doll, you're walking kind of slow," John looked down at Thali. She tried to quicken her pace, but it was apparent that she was wearing at this speed. John paused them for a microt, then picked up Thali and carried her on his hips. "Almost on my shoulders," he told Thali. Chiana just grinned and followed them into Thali's quarters.