IX. Babylon

Riddick was stretched out in the cockpit, his feet crossed over the top of the console. Outside, the nothingness continued by. Kat edged into the copilot's seat.

"Is there anything else for me to wear?"

One sardonic eyebrow cocked. "What's wrong with what you've got on?"

Kat wrinkled her nose. Her dress was creased and had been shed upon; it stank of sweat and resignation. She tried to glare at Riddick, but when his silver gaze met her own, her eyes dropped. "Do you intend for me to walk around looking like a second-hand toy?" she murmured.

"You are a second-hand toy." Riddick folded his hands behind his head. "Don't worry. We're on our way to Babylon. I'll pick you up a little something there."

"What's on Babylon?"

He was silent for a long moment.

Then, uncrossing and recrossing his feet: "By the way, what did Jack say to you?"

She eyed him uncomfortably as he gazed out into the void. "She asked me to take care of you."

An eyebrow twitched. The quirk of his lips was barely visible.

"So what's on Babylon?"

His only answer was to close his eyes and fall into a light doze.

Watching him, Kat couldn't decide whether his slumber was real or faked. She sighed, tiptoed out of the cockpit, and headed back to curl up in her owner's empty bed.

The scents and sounds of the market on Babylon were much like those of New Mecca, but there the similarity ended. Raggedy, dirty children sat on street corners, begging loose credits from the tourists who walked about in a colorful variety of garb--or in some cases, lack of it. Tattoos and body paint showed in abundance, and hair was styled and dyed garishly. Animals both familiar and strange were towed on leashes; pets were, too.

Kat tripped on a crack in the cement walkway, earning a curse from her owner, who shot a sidelong look at her. "Don't make trouble, Spots. This ain't the place to attract attention."

Riddick led the way into a badly lit clothing shop. A woman wearing a clerk's vest met them with a startled nod for Riddick and an appraising leer for Kat. Twenty minutes later, Kat had been outfitted, with the clerk's fingers wandering far more than necessary, in garishly dyed reptile hide. The short blue dress had vanished somewhere in the process. A pair of gauntlets, each complete with a brace of stilettos, completed the arrangement.

"I don't need the stilettos," she complained, unsheathing her talons.

"They draw attention away from your... ah... real talents." Riddick winked at the clerk, who gave an appreciative titter. Then he shot Kat a cold, warning glare, and she looked down.

She stifled the urge to scratch beneath her collar.

This ain't the place to attract attention, he had said. She glanced sideways at Riddick's bald pate and gleaming muscles, then back down at the ridiculous purple scales strategically decorating her body. I suppose we fit in better now....

"Would you care to add a few accessories to your purchase?" the clerk inquired with what would have been courtesy, but for the eyes Kat could feel raking up and down her figure. At Riddick's mutter of assent, she led them to a glass case showing an intimidating assortment that included collars, shock prods, and wrist restraints.

Kat was half relieved, half dismayed when Riddick picked out only a stainless steel chain. With an obsequious compliment for his choice, the woman palmed the credits Riddick passed to her, handing him a receipt chip in return. Ogling Kat one last time, she bustled off to see to the next customer.

Riddick clipped the chain to Kat's collar. "Don't want you getting lost again," he grunted. At his cursory tug, she gritted her teeth and followed him back out into the street.

Walking through the spaceport bazaar into the city proper, they passed a run-down building, and she read "The Other Side" on a battered sign that showed a collar and chain. Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the smell of the kennel.

Before long, though, another odor intruded--one that made her gag and clutch at her new leash in instinctive terror, moaning as Riddick fairly dragged her down the walk toward a fenced and barbed-wired compound. The windowless gray walls reflected the washed out sky above them; the grounds were strewn with dirty gravel.

A cheerfully colored building fronted it all. "Babylon's Premium Pets," the facing announced. Further off, a chimney vomited out oily black smoke.

Kat's legs froze. She cast back to the clothing store, to the ship, back through Janus and the rescue. What had she done? Was Riddick that unsatisfied with her? He had never used her, had barely touched her, had spoken to her only a handful of times--and here he was, bringing her in to be destroyed?

Then she knew. It was her abilities. He hadn't known what she was, and she hadn't volunteered any more than she'd had to. She flashed back to what she'd said to Imam--I already have experience with the worse owners--and then her thoughts dissolved in panic.

Her skin prickled as though it already felt the flames. Clawed feet scrabbled over the concrete.

Riddick stopped, clenching his fists; his shoulders rippled. He turned around with a grimace and cuffed her savagely.