Chapter Five
"Get off him, fek face!"
Chiana had been sleeping almost comfortably, snuggled up against Crichton for warmth, when something woke her up. She still wasn't sure what had awakened her, but when she became aware of her surroundings – still in Pilot's den on the floor below his console – she realized that not only was Crichton curled around her, but that creature was curled around Crichton. Maybe it was the smell of the girl's hand, too close to Chiana's face, that had brought her around to consciousness.
Fully awake now, Chiana pulled away from Crichton. Still asleep, he pulled his arms in closer to his own body, in the process pulling away from the Xarai girl – what had he called her? Raquel? – as well. Good.
The girl was awake, now, too, and keeping wary green eyes on Chiana. Sensing Chi's hostility, even if she didn't understand the words, she sat up rather than curling back up with Crichton.
"You just...just leave him alone, Raquel," Chiana said, standing up and taking a step away from the console, toward the Xarai.
The girl's eyes widened and she also stood, taking a step away from the Human. Again, a good thing as far as Chiana was concerned. Wild, pale hair moved stiffly in time with the shake of her head, as if she were denying any intentions on Crichton, dirty hands lifting in a gesture of subservience.
Chiana stepped over Crichton's prone form. He was still asleep, but he would wake soon, both sources of heat having left him. She looked over the top of the console and saw that Pilot, too, was asleep. The den was utterly silent, save for the faint sounds of their own breathing and the occasional burbling sounds that Rohvu made. The little sounds the Leviathan made were, in a way, comforting – they reminded her of both Moya and Talyn.
Another sound intruded, startling Chiana. She had taken a couple more steps toward...Raquel while listening to Rohvu "talk" to himself. The Xarai girl was no longer there, though.
"Frell!" Looking over the side of the catwalk where the girl had been standing, Chiana watched as she fell the rest of the distance into the effluvia collected at the bottom of the chamber. "Crichton!" She ran the few steps over to him and shook him awake.
Frell, frell, frell! She didn't like the little tralk hanging all over her friend, but she didn't want her to...to drown!
"Wha—" Crichton sat straight up, looking a little wild-eyed. He was reaching for Winona when she grabbed his arm to stop him.
"It's me, Old Man. Your, uh, your little friend just fell off the catwalk."
"What?!"
"Your...frell. That...Raquel! The...the...the Xarai girl. She fell over the edge. We've gotta pull her out."
"What the hell did you do, Chiana?" Crichton rubbed both hands over his face, then stood.
"What did I— I didn't do anything, Crichton!" She hadn't done anything! Why was he looking at her like that? Like she was a...a...child, or something. "I didn't."
Chiana whirled around, looking for something to use to get down to the...well, dren...at the bottom of the den. Crichton was still looking at her when she turned back to him. "Oh, just stop staring at me and...and...and help me find a rope or something."
***
"What a lovely smell you've discovered, Chiana," Crichton said, paraphrasing. He was reminded of the trash compactor scene in Star Wars. "You know, I'd much rather wake up to a nice cup of coffee than...this."
"Oh, quit bitching, Crichton. Do you see her anywhere?"
The commotion had awakened Pilot, who had told them about a "shortcut" to the bottom of the den, since there was no rope to be had. Kind of a jeffries tube sort of thing. They had more or less slid from Pilot's level down to where they were now.
Actually, compared to what the rest of the ship smells like, it isn't so bad down here, Crichton thought, eyes scanning for any sign of Raquel. Wondering if she had any sort of real name, he stepped out onto the catwalk system that ran about a foot or so above the level of the liquid that filled this part of the room. Watching for any signs of movement – the only ones he was aware of were those of Chiana, whose movements mirrored his own as she walked another catwalk – he stepped on something soft.
"Oh, shit." There was a hand snagged on the edge of the catwalk. It was too big to belong to the girl they were looking for. He knelt, leather creaking, for a closer look. It looked a little charred... He closed his eyes for a second, then reopened them, grasped the hand, and pulled.
"Gaagh!" he yelled, abruptly letting go in surprise, just as abruptly falling back on his ass, barely keeping himself on the catwalk. The hand belonged to what was left of D'Argo. He scrambled forward, reaching again for his friend's hand, just as it sank the rest of the way below the surface.
"Crichton?" He heard Chi's footsteps as she ran toward him. "Are you okay? Did you find her?"
He swallowed hard, sitting on the catwalk, staring at the effluvia, not knowing what to tell Chiana. "I'm okay, Pip."
"You don't look okay. You look like you've seen a ghost," she said, coming to a stop next to him.
Crichton looked up at her. "Kind of. Maybe."
Chiana squatted, resting her arms on her knees. "What is it?"
Before he answered her, their attention was grabbed by the sound of soggy footsteps coming rapidly toward them from the opposite side of the catwalk network. "Saved by the bell," Crichton muttered, watching the missing girl run toward them. She was somehow even dirtier than she had been before.
"We have got to get this girl a bath," he said. Chiana nodded in agreement and stood.
***
"All right, Crichton. Spill it. What did you see, earlier?" Chiana asked as she picked up bits of all sorts of trash. The now clean Xarai was helping Chiana while he righted chairs and moved large, fallen objects.
The three of them had cautiously made their way from Pilot's den into what had been the crew quarters of the Leviathan, in search of clean water and maybe something that could be used as clothing. There wasn't much, but they had at least been able to get the dirt and the stink washed off her. Well, Chiana had done most of the work – she hadn't let him near during the clean up phase, to his amusement.
Now they were in the center chamber, starting clean up there. Until they were sure that Rohvu only had three passengers, they were going to stay together. The current plan was to clean up the center chamber and Command, in the process looking for anything that might be usable or edible. While they worked on clean up, Rohvu and Pilot were working on figuring out where they were, if possible, and, more important, finding someplace they could go for food and other supplies.
Crichton thought they might be able to make it back to the planet he and the others had originally come from in the transport pod – he was still having a hard time accepting that they had just left Chiana and him here, but he was starting to get an idea of how it might have happened.
"Coward."
He looked over at Chiana. She looked bruised and battered and her black eyes were no longer filled with fear or panic, but rather with challenge.
He sighed. Swinging a chair around, he sat, resting his arms on the back of the chair and his chin on his arms.
Chiana sat across from him, the expanse of the table, gouges and all, between them. "What did you see?" she repeated.
"D'Argo."
She raised her eyebrows, but didn't say a word. The cave bunny continued to pick up trash and move it over to the growing pile by the door, paying no attention to them.
"I saw D'Argo. About tripped over him. His body, anyway. I started to pull him out of the...water, but when he started coming up above the surface..." he paused, took another deep breath, then plunged ahead. "His body was burned. Like he had been set on fire, but the fire was put out when he hit the pool."
He watched as her eyes filled with tears, knowing full well that she was thinking of a Luxan funeral rite, just as he had when he found D's body. Reaching across the table, he took her hand. "Chiana, I also found D'Argo dead in one of the corridors, yesterday. And you."
"Me? Dead?" Damn it, the fear was coming back into her eyes.
"Yes, you, dead. I also saw you getting onto the transport pod before it left."
"No," she whispered. "No," a little more strongly, "that's not possible. I'm right here. I'm me. Not...not... I'm not some copy." She whispered again, "I'm me."
Crichton didn't like that lost look in her eyes. He tightened his grip on her hand – it felt awfully small in his – and said, "We're both right here, Chiana. I don't pretend to know how this whole thing works, but you're you and I'm me. Okay?"
She nodded, obviously unconvinced, but willing to be. "I don't wanna..."
"You don't want to what, Pip?" he prodded when she stopped.
"I don't want to be like her, Crichton." She pointed with her free hand over to the Xarai girl.
"You're not like her, Chi." He gave the hand he was still holding a little tug, pulling her attention back to him. "Kaarvok is dead, Chiana." He spoke as he would to a child. "No matter what happened before, there won't be any more 'twinning.'"
Crichton closed his own eyes. No more twinning. He felt like himself, not some copy. He had a suspicion that the Xarai came about because of not only too many twinnings, but from the originals being killed and the "twins" being copied. Kind of like a Xerox copy from an original was sometimes too close to tell apart, but as copies were made of copies, things started to break down.
Huh. Xerox. Xarai. Whatever. He was John Crichton and Chiana was Chiana and if they discovered that there were more of themselves somewhere in the Uncharted Territories, they'd deal with it then.
Crichton squeezed Chiana's hand and stood. "We'll get through this, Pip." He let go of her hand and went back to making at least one livable space on this poor, sick Leviathan.
"Get off him, fek face!"
Chiana had been sleeping almost comfortably, snuggled up against Crichton for warmth, when something woke her up. She still wasn't sure what had awakened her, but when she became aware of her surroundings – still in Pilot's den on the floor below his console – she realized that not only was Crichton curled around her, but that creature was curled around Crichton. Maybe it was the smell of the girl's hand, too close to Chiana's face, that had brought her around to consciousness.
Fully awake now, Chiana pulled away from Crichton. Still asleep, he pulled his arms in closer to his own body, in the process pulling away from the Xarai girl – what had he called her? Raquel? – as well. Good.
The girl was awake, now, too, and keeping wary green eyes on Chiana. Sensing Chi's hostility, even if she didn't understand the words, she sat up rather than curling back up with Crichton.
"You just...just leave him alone, Raquel," Chiana said, standing up and taking a step away from the console, toward the Xarai.
The girl's eyes widened and she also stood, taking a step away from the Human. Again, a good thing as far as Chiana was concerned. Wild, pale hair moved stiffly in time with the shake of her head, as if she were denying any intentions on Crichton, dirty hands lifting in a gesture of subservience.
Chiana stepped over Crichton's prone form. He was still asleep, but he would wake soon, both sources of heat having left him. She looked over the top of the console and saw that Pilot, too, was asleep. The den was utterly silent, save for the faint sounds of their own breathing and the occasional burbling sounds that Rohvu made. The little sounds the Leviathan made were, in a way, comforting – they reminded her of both Moya and Talyn.
Another sound intruded, startling Chiana. She had taken a couple more steps toward...Raquel while listening to Rohvu "talk" to himself. The Xarai girl was no longer there, though.
"Frell!" Looking over the side of the catwalk where the girl had been standing, Chiana watched as she fell the rest of the distance into the effluvia collected at the bottom of the chamber. "Crichton!" She ran the few steps over to him and shook him awake.
Frell, frell, frell! She didn't like the little tralk hanging all over her friend, but she didn't want her to...to drown!
"Wha—" Crichton sat straight up, looking a little wild-eyed. He was reaching for Winona when she grabbed his arm to stop him.
"It's me, Old Man. Your, uh, your little friend just fell off the catwalk."
"What?!"
"Your...frell. That...Raquel! The...the...the Xarai girl. She fell over the edge. We've gotta pull her out."
"What the hell did you do, Chiana?" Crichton rubbed both hands over his face, then stood.
"What did I— I didn't do anything, Crichton!" She hadn't done anything! Why was he looking at her like that? Like she was a...a...child, or something. "I didn't."
Chiana whirled around, looking for something to use to get down to the...well, dren...at the bottom of the den. Crichton was still looking at her when she turned back to him. "Oh, just stop staring at me and...and...and help me find a rope or something."
***
"What a lovely smell you've discovered, Chiana," Crichton said, paraphrasing. He was reminded of the trash compactor scene in Star Wars. "You know, I'd much rather wake up to a nice cup of coffee than...this."
"Oh, quit bitching, Crichton. Do you see her anywhere?"
The commotion had awakened Pilot, who had told them about a "shortcut" to the bottom of the den, since there was no rope to be had. Kind of a jeffries tube sort of thing. They had more or less slid from Pilot's level down to where they were now.
Actually, compared to what the rest of the ship smells like, it isn't so bad down here, Crichton thought, eyes scanning for any sign of Raquel. Wondering if she had any sort of real name, he stepped out onto the catwalk system that ran about a foot or so above the level of the liquid that filled this part of the room. Watching for any signs of movement – the only ones he was aware of were those of Chiana, whose movements mirrored his own as she walked another catwalk – he stepped on something soft.
"Oh, shit." There was a hand snagged on the edge of the catwalk. It was too big to belong to the girl they were looking for. He knelt, leather creaking, for a closer look. It looked a little charred... He closed his eyes for a second, then reopened them, grasped the hand, and pulled.
"Gaagh!" he yelled, abruptly letting go in surprise, just as abruptly falling back on his ass, barely keeping himself on the catwalk. The hand belonged to what was left of D'Argo. He scrambled forward, reaching again for his friend's hand, just as it sank the rest of the way below the surface.
"Crichton?" He heard Chi's footsteps as she ran toward him. "Are you okay? Did you find her?"
He swallowed hard, sitting on the catwalk, staring at the effluvia, not knowing what to tell Chiana. "I'm okay, Pip."
"You don't look okay. You look like you've seen a ghost," she said, coming to a stop next to him.
Crichton looked up at her. "Kind of. Maybe."
Chiana squatted, resting her arms on her knees. "What is it?"
Before he answered her, their attention was grabbed by the sound of soggy footsteps coming rapidly toward them from the opposite side of the catwalk network. "Saved by the bell," Crichton muttered, watching the missing girl run toward them. She was somehow even dirtier than she had been before.
"We have got to get this girl a bath," he said. Chiana nodded in agreement and stood.
***
"All right, Crichton. Spill it. What did you see, earlier?" Chiana asked as she picked up bits of all sorts of trash. The now clean Xarai was helping Chiana while he righted chairs and moved large, fallen objects.
The three of them had cautiously made their way from Pilot's den into what had been the crew quarters of the Leviathan, in search of clean water and maybe something that could be used as clothing. There wasn't much, but they had at least been able to get the dirt and the stink washed off her. Well, Chiana had done most of the work – she hadn't let him near during the clean up phase, to his amusement.
Now they were in the center chamber, starting clean up there. Until they were sure that Rohvu only had three passengers, they were going to stay together. The current plan was to clean up the center chamber and Command, in the process looking for anything that might be usable or edible. While they worked on clean up, Rohvu and Pilot were working on figuring out where they were, if possible, and, more important, finding someplace they could go for food and other supplies.
Crichton thought they might be able to make it back to the planet he and the others had originally come from in the transport pod – he was still having a hard time accepting that they had just left Chiana and him here, but he was starting to get an idea of how it might have happened.
"Coward."
He looked over at Chiana. She looked bruised and battered and her black eyes were no longer filled with fear or panic, but rather with challenge.
He sighed. Swinging a chair around, he sat, resting his arms on the back of the chair and his chin on his arms.
Chiana sat across from him, the expanse of the table, gouges and all, between them. "What did you see?" she repeated.
"D'Argo."
She raised her eyebrows, but didn't say a word. The cave bunny continued to pick up trash and move it over to the growing pile by the door, paying no attention to them.
"I saw D'Argo. About tripped over him. His body, anyway. I started to pull him out of the...water, but when he started coming up above the surface..." he paused, took another deep breath, then plunged ahead. "His body was burned. Like he had been set on fire, but the fire was put out when he hit the pool."
He watched as her eyes filled with tears, knowing full well that she was thinking of a Luxan funeral rite, just as he had when he found D's body. Reaching across the table, he took her hand. "Chiana, I also found D'Argo dead in one of the corridors, yesterday. And you."
"Me? Dead?" Damn it, the fear was coming back into her eyes.
"Yes, you, dead. I also saw you getting onto the transport pod before it left."
"No," she whispered. "No," a little more strongly, "that's not possible. I'm right here. I'm me. Not...not... I'm not some copy." She whispered again, "I'm me."
Crichton didn't like that lost look in her eyes. He tightened his grip on her hand – it felt awfully small in his – and said, "We're both right here, Chiana. I don't pretend to know how this whole thing works, but you're you and I'm me. Okay?"
She nodded, obviously unconvinced, but willing to be. "I don't wanna..."
"You don't want to what, Pip?" he prodded when she stopped.
"I don't want to be like her, Crichton." She pointed with her free hand over to the Xarai girl.
"You're not like her, Chi." He gave the hand he was still holding a little tug, pulling her attention back to him. "Kaarvok is dead, Chiana." He spoke as he would to a child. "No matter what happened before, there won't be any more 'twinning.'"
Crichton closed his own eyes. No more twinning. He felt like himself, not some copy. He had a suspicion that the Xarai came about because of not only too many twinnings, but from the originals being killed and the "twins" being copied. Kind of like a Xerox copy from an original was sometimes too close to tell apart, but as copies were made of copies, things started to break down.
Huh. Xerox. Xarai. Whatever. He was John Crichton and Chiana was Chiana and if they discovered that there were more of themselves somewhere in the Uncharted Territories, they'd deal with it then.
Crichton squeezed Chiana's hand and stood. "We'll get through this, Pip." He let go of her hand and went back to making at least one livable space on this poor, sick Leviathan.