Chapter 10: Thanks For The Memory Part 1 : Never Before The Big Game
On one thing Crichton was unshakeable. He was getting married (to Aeryn, which made it even better), so he must have a stag party, regardless of the fact that every one of his male acquaintances hated at least one of the others.
That was where the alcohol came in. If he could just get D'Argo, Crais, Braca and himself drunk enough, they might be able to forget that they had all sworn to kill each other at least once and behave like guys everywhere on a stag night - like loud, drunken MCPs.
The theory was sound.
In accordance with this plan, Crichton had acquired a stock of raslak, fellip nectar and some strange green stuff that smelt like pond weed (if it was possible to get pond weed that was 188 proof and made you drunk just by smelling it) sufficient to render an entire herd of elephants unconscious. In addition he had collected the closest thing to party hats that the uncharted territories had to offer (in fetching shades of pink and lilac), a box of some things resembling bar snacks and a pack of obscene playing cards featuring races he'd never heard of, many of which had made him wince when he'd looked at them. He'd briefly considered asking Chiana to strip for them (just to keep up the tradition), but had decided that D'Argo might react badly to anyone stuffing currency into her panties. And a drunk Luxan in hyper-rage could really put a crimp on your day.
So everything was set. Now he just had to tell everyone about it.
***
"Crichton, you cannot be serious."
"What?" Crichton said, for once prepared to plead with Crais. "C'mon man, it's a tradition on my planet. A guy hangs out with his buddies the night before his wedding and gets plastered. I can't get married without doing that!"
"I was not aware that we *were* 'buddies'."
Crichton moved round and grabbed Crais' shoulders to stop him turning away again. "I have a limited social circle," he said. "I can't do it by myself!"
"I am very occupied at present."
That was true enough. Everyone agreed that finally getting round to finding Talyn a pilot was a good idea, but what had possessed Crais to choose to go about it at the same time as his wife was due to give birth nobody knew. Carma said that he was trying to find an excuse not to be present this time. Crichton had heard a rumour that Crais had actually fainted when Raylani had been born, but he had enough sense of self-preservation never to mention it to Crais.
"One evening. A couple of arns, that's all I'm asking for...plus recovery time," Crichton added. "We can wet the baby's head at the same time...a little early, but what the hell."
Crais looked for a second as if he was actually going to deign to ask for an explanation of Crichton's words, but then shook it off. Nothing that came from Crichton's mind was ever good for him.
He sighed. "Very well," he conceded. "I will attend."
"Yes!" Crichton said, punching the air. "One down, two to go!"
Then he ran out of command before Crais could work out that that meant Braca was coming too.
***
It was perhaps fortunate that Braca's Peacekeeper upbringing had not encouraged public displays of affection. A sideways glance on his part in Raylani's direction was enough to raise Crais' blood pressure to dangerously high levels and make him start grinding his teeth. A touch on her arm made his muscles tense like a tiger ready to pounce. Anything more would have been beyond the limits of his self control.
Therefore, the prospect of spending an evening in Braca's company was rather less than appealing. He should have known that Crichton had some ulterior motive. He seemed to consider it his mission in life to fix everybody else's problems. Crais did not consider wanting to quietly dispose of Braca a problem. He was Raylani's father, even he knew that that meant he was *supposed* to hate her lover. Crais shuddered, he hated that word.
However, he had a full day's work to do before then. He was supposed to be meeting the Elders to discuss Talyn's new pilot. And then there was Carma...and the child expected to make an appearance at any moment. And it was all beyond his control. He hated that too.
Crais sighed and got back to work, trying to avoid thinking about that evening.
***
At 8 O'clock, the four men met outside Crichton's quarters. At 9 O'clock, they were drunk. At 10 O'clock they were very drunk. At 11 O'clock they were very very drunk. By midnight, there was hardly an active brain cell in the room. None of them except Crichton had gone there with the intention of getting drunk, indeed it would have been very out of character if they had, but here they were. Plastered. It was all Crichton's fault, of course, him and his frelling drinking contest. There is something about contests with your enemies that makes you do things you wouldn't normally do. Which was exactly why Crichton had begun it in the first place.
When they regained consciousness the next morning, sprawled on various patches of floor in Crichton's quarters, D'Argo, Braca, Crichton and Crais were all put into bed, sobered up and lectured by ex-girlfriend, girlfriend, fiancee and wife respectively. They had, however, managed to establish two points of commonality. They all had blinding hangovers and none of them had the slightest idea what had happened the night before. Which, Crichton decided, based on his previous experience of bachelor parties, was probably just as well.
***
The morning after the morning after, Crichton and Aeryn set off to the nearest pleasure planet to be bonded. Crichton had initially protested that everyone should be there to watch them, until Crais explained what the ceremony involved and Carma added that it invariably ended in violence, tears or sex - none of which he particularly wanted an audience for. The rest of the crew waved them off happily. The last monen, with Aeryn's cold feet and Crichton's obsessions over human traditions, had been a strain and they were frankly glad to see the back of them.
Crais occupied himself with helping Talyn's new pilot settle in and trying not to think about the impending birth of his second child. Her name was Aali and she was young, but capable and even-tempered and Crais, not to mention the Elders, were confident that she would be an excellent influence on Talyn. It turned out that she was a very distant relation of Moya's pilot and the two of them had been chatting happily with Talyn and Moya ever since the connection had been made. Unlike normal leviathans, Talyn had been able to bond to Aali instantly and the two of them were getting to know each other much as Talyn and Crais had all those cycles ago.
Crais sincerely regretted agreeing to attend Crichton's 'bachelor party' for two reasons. The first was that he couldn't remember anything that had happened between entering and leaving Crichton's quarters except for a vague idea that they had been sitting round a table doing something with grubby bits of paper and the second was that his neck was so stiff he could barely move it and he very much disliked having an injury without anyone to blame for it. It seemed to be wearing off now, but not being able to turn his head for a full solar day was something he could have done without.
At the precise moment that Crais was pondering his temporary paralysis, Raylani was staring at Braca's back, looking very puzzled.
"What's that?" she asked.
"What's what?" Braca said.
"You seem to have writing on your back," Raylani replied, moving closer to get a better look.
"What does it say?" Braca asked, too bemused to say anything else.
"I don't know, I can't read it. It's not in Sebacean, which suggests to me that it's either Human or Luxan and that someone wrote it at Crichton's bachelor party," Raylani said with a grin. "Makes me wonder what you four got up to."
Braca was beginning to wonder that as well.
***
Crichton and Aeryn returned from their 'honeymoon' several days earlier than expected. Crichton was in an absolutely foul mood and Aeryn looked less than happy, although from what little they said it seemed that the ceremony had gone well. There were certainly bonding tattoos on their hands, so the cause of their mutual displeasure was a mystery.
Except that, by now, three of the four attendees at Crichton's party had unexplained afflictions, although Crichton refused to explain what his actually was. They were determined to find out what had happened that night, whatever the cost.
And they would have done. Except that Carma chose that moment to announce that she was in labour.
On one thing Crichton was unshakeable. He was getting married (to Aeryn, which made it even better), so he must have a stag party, regardless of the fact that every one of his male acquaintances hated at least one of the others.
That was where the alcohol came in. If he could just get D'Argo, Crais, Braca and himself drunk enough, they might be able to forget that they had all sworn to kill each other at least once and behave like guys everywhere on a stag night - like loud, drunken MCPs.
The theory was sound.
In accordance with this plan, Crichton had acquired a stock of raslak, fellip nectar and some strange green stuff that smelt like pond weed (if it was possible to get pond weed that was 188 proof and made you drunk just by smelling it) sufficient to render an entire herd of elephants unconscious. In addition he had collected the closest thing to party hats that the uncharted territories had to offer (in fetching shades of pink and lilac), a box of some things resembling bar snacks and a pack of obscene playing cards featuring races he'd never heard of, many of which had made him wince when he'd looked at them. He'd briefly considered asking Chiana to strip for them (just to keep up the tradition), but had decided that D'Argo might react badly to anyone stuffing currency into her panties. And a drunk Luxan in hyper-rage could really put a crimp on your day.
So everything was set. Now he just had to tell everyone about it.
***
"Crichton, you cannot be serious."
"What?" Crichton said, for once prepared to plead with Crais. "C'mon man, it's a tradition on my planet. A guy hangs out with his buddies the night before his wedding and gets plastered. I can't get married without doing that!"
"I was not aware that we *were* 'buddies'."
Crichton moved round and grabbed Crais' shoulders to stop him turning away again. "I have a limited social circle," he said. "I can't do it by myself!"
"I am very occupied at present."
That was true enough. Everyone agreed that finally getting round to finding Talyn a pilot was a good idea, but what had possessed Crais to choose to go about it at the same time as his wife was due to give birth nobody knew. Carma said that he was trying to find an excuse not to be present this time. Crichton had heard a rumour that Crais had actually fainted when Raylani had been born, but he had enough sense of self-preservation never to mention it to Crais.
"One evening. A couple of arns, that's all I'm asking for...plus recovery time," Crichton added. "We can wet the baby's head at the same time...a little early, but what the hell."
Crais looked for a second as if he was actually going to deign to ask for an explanation of Crichton's words, but then shook it off. Nothing that came from Crichton's mind was ever good for him.
He sighed. "Very well," he conceded. "I will attend."
"Yes!" Crichton said, punching the air. "One down, two to go!"
Then he ran out of command before Crais could work out that that meant Braca was coming too.
***
It was perhaps fortunate that Braca's Peacekeeper upbringing had not encouraged public displays of affection. A sideways glance on his part in Raylani's direction was enough to raise Crais' blood pressure to dangerously high levels and make him start grinding his teeth. A touch on her arm made his muscles tense like a tiger ready to pounce. Anything more would have been beyond the limits of his self control.
Therefore, the prospect of spending an evening in Braca's company was rather less than appealing. He should have known that Crichton had some ulterior motive. He seemed to consider it his mission in life to fix everybody else's problems. Crais did not consider wanting to quietly dispose of Braca a problem. He was Raylani's father, even he knew that that meant he was *supposed* to hate her lover. Crais shuddered, he hated that word.
However, he had a full day's work to do before then. He was supposed to be meeting the Elders to discuss Talyn's new pilot. And then there was Carma...and the child expected to make an appearance at any moment. And it was all beyond his control. He hated that too.
Crais sighed and got back to work, trying to avoid thinking about that evening.
***
At 8 O'clock, the four men met outside Crichton's quarters. At 9 O'clock, they were drunk. At 10 O'clock they were very drunk. At 11 O'clock they were very very drunk. By midnight, there was hardly an active brain cell in the room. None of them except Crichton had gone there with the intention of getting drunk, indeed it would have been very out of character if they had, but here they were. Plastered. It was all Crichton's fault, of course, him and his frelling drinking contest. There is something about contests with your enemies that makes you do things you wouldn't normally do. Which was exactly why Crichton had begun it in the first place.
When they regained consciousness the next morning, sprawled on various patches of floor in Crichton's quarters, D'Argo, Braca, Crichton and Crais were all put into bed, sobered up and lectured by ex-girlfriend, girlfriend, fiancee and wife respectively. They had, however, managed to establish two points of commonality. They all had blinding hangovers and none of them had the slightest idea what had happened the night before. Which, Crichton decided, based on his previous experience of bachelor parties, was probably just as well.
***
The morning after the morning after, Crichton and Aeryn set off to the nearest pleasure planet to be bonded. Crichton had initially protested that everyone should be there to watch them, until Crais explained what the ceremony involved and Carma added that it invariably ended in violence, tears or sex - none of which he particularly wanted an audience for. The rest of the crew waved them off happily. The last monen, with Aeryn's cold feet and Crichton's obsessions over human traditions, had been a strain and they were frankly glad to see the back of them.
Crais occupied himself with helping Talyn's new pilot settle in and trying not to think about the impending birth of his second child. Her name was Aali and she was young, but capable and even-tempered and Crais, not to mention the Elders, were confident that she would be an excellent influence on Talyn. It turned out that she was a very distant relation of Moya's pilot and the two of them had been chatting happily with Talyn and Moya ever since the connection had been made. Unlike normal leviathans, Talyn had been able to bond to Aali instantly and the two of them were getting to know each other much as Talyn and Crais had all those cycles ago.
Crais sincerely regretted agreeing to attend Crichton's 'bachelor party' for two reasons. The first was that he couldn't remember anything that had happened between entering and leaving Crichton's quarters except for a vague idea that they had been sitting round a table doing something with grubby bits of paper and the second was that his neck was so stiff he could barely move it and he very much disliked having an injury without anyone to blame for it. It seemed to be wearing off now, but not being able to turn his head for a full solar day was something he could have done without.
At the precise moment that Crais was pondering his temporary paralysis, Raylani was staring at Braca's back, looking very puzzled.
"What's that?" she asked.
"What's what?" Braca said.
"You seem to have writing on your back," Raylani replied, moving closer to get a better look.
"What does it say?" Braca asked, too bemused to say anything else.
"I don't know, I can't read it. It's not in Sebacean, which suggests to me that it's either Human or Luxan and that someone wrote it at Crichton's bachelor party," Raylani said with a grin. "Makes me wonder what you four got up to."
Braca was beginning to wonder that as well.
***
Crichton and Aeryn returned from their 'honeymoon' several days earlier than expected. Crichton was in an absolutely foul mood and Aeryn looked less than happy, although from what little they said it seemed that the ceremony had gone well. There were certainly bonding tattoos on their hands, so the cause of their mutual displeasure was a mystery.
Except that, by now, three of the four attendees at Crichton's party had unexplained afflictions, although Crichton refused to explain what his actually was. They were determined to find out what had happened that night, whatever the cost.
And they would have done. Except that Carma chose that moment to announce that she was in labour.