Chapter Six
"Chiana, what are you teaching her?" John shook his head in exasperation as he walked back into Rohvu's neural cluster. Raquel – Belima, she told us her name is Belima – only knew three or four recognizable words, and half of those were "frell" and "dren." Since she hadn't known any words at all two days ago, he thought it was a pretty good bet that Pip was teaching her the UT equivalents of George Carlin's seven deadly words.
After going through as much of the ship as they could over the past couple of days, and with Pilot's help using internal scans – somewhat buggy, but still working – they had determined that the three of them and Pilot were indeed the only living beings remaining on Rohvu. That being the case, it was decided that it should be safe to split up, which might allow cleanup and repair to go a little faster.
While Chiana was supposed to be helping him with repairs in the neural cluster – Pilot was fairly certain the Leviathan could achieve a successful starburst if some repairs to his circuitry were performed – Belima had been set to scavenging for anything usable left aboard the ravaged ship. The most important thing she had found so far had been a box of comms badges, still in working order. The Xarai hadn't been able to eat the things or use them as weapons, so they had somehow missed being destroyed or even damaged.
Hence, the interruption to the repairs this morning when Belima had commed him to come help her get a door open. Actually, he hadn't understood anything of what she said, but she kept comming him until he had asked Pilot where she was and then gone in frustration to see what the frell it was she wanted. Once there, she had pantomimed what the problem was, he had fixed it, and then headed back down two tiers to finish the much-needed repairs.
Now, though, Chiana was nowhere in sight so he picked up the spanner he had dropped onto a shelf upon leaving and returned to the circuit box he had been about to work on. He had been having trouble getting the cover off to get to the circuits, thus the spanner rather than a tool more suited for delicate work.
As he worked at the cover, his stomach growled. The gnaw of hunger was starting to become an almost constant companion, even keeping him awake during what passed for their sleep cycle. He and Chiana had been stuck here on Rohvu for almost three solar days – thank God the ship had a decent water supply. They had both gone without food for days before, but they'd be dead before too much longer without that water. Man, what he wouldn't give for a good – dead – budong right about now.
The cover to the circuit box broke away with a snap. John closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "Sorry, Rohvu," he said to the already wounded ship. "Pilot? Would you please let Rohvu know I didn't mean for that to happen?" The Leviathan was so used to his inhabitants damaging him for no good reason, John wanted to make sure he understood that this had been an accident.
"You didn't mean for what to happen, John?" Pilot's tone sounded genuinely puzzled.
"I didn't mean to break off a piece of him. I didn't mean to cause him any more pain." Sure, it was just a circuit box, just a small thing, but it was still a part of the living ship...
"Rohvu understands, John. He is not upset or hurt. We both are much better than we have been in too many cycles to count."
"You know, Pilot, that's just sad. We're gonna make it up to you two," John said as he stripped a wire, preparing it for reconnection.
"That isn't necessary, John, but we thank you, all the same."
A chirp sounded from the half-moon shaped comm badge attached to his vest, then Chiana's voice said, "Are you back yet, Crichton?"
"Yeah, Pip, where're you?"
"I, uh, had to use the...the waste recycler." Her voice sounded a little thin, but he couldn't tell if that was the comm or if something was wrong.
"You okay, Pip?" She seemed to be getting weaker a lot faster than he would've expected, but that may have been as much due to the blood loss from the cut across her stomach as from hunger.
"Yeah, Crichton. I'm fine. I'll be back there in a couple microts."
"No hurry, Pip. I ain't goin' anywhere," he drawled. Either she'd tell him what was wrong, aside from the obvious, or she'd get so weak that he could just check her out for himself without her fighting him. He was pretty sure that cut needed stitches or something, but she wouldn't let him look at it. He kinda wished Zhaan or even Jool was here. Or that they had some chlorium to help Rohvu with the pain. Or that they'd pass a Taco Bell.
If wishes were fishes...
"I'm back," Chiana popped back into the room with a flourish. "Didja miss me?"
"Ten microts ago, you sounded like you were gonna pass out. Now, you're bouncing off walls. What gives?" John gave her a closer look and didn't like what he saw. Her usually flawless gray skin didn't look good. If anything, she was more blue than gray, but not a good, healthy Delvian kind of blue. More of a holding-your-breath-until-you-suffocate kind of blue.
She abruptly sat, with a kind of boneless grace, on the floor near where he was working. "I'm fine, Crichton. Just, you know, hungry. And, well, maybe...maybe a little..."
"Depressed?" he supplied.
"Yeah, a little depressed. I'm just tryin' to... I'm just trying to act like myself."
"You're not worrying again about being a copy, are you?"
"Maybe..." She wouldn't look him in the eye, even when he reached over to touch her jaw, turning her head toward him.
"Chiana, sweetheart, I don't think we'll ever know if we're live or Memorex." She looked confused at his turn of phrase, but he ignored it. "It doesn't matter, Chi. We're here, we're alive, and we're going to stay that way." She did look at him, then. "It's not like you to worry like this."
She sighed and gave him a little smirk.
"Damn it, Pip, that's not what I meant." That earned him a real smile. He gave her a shove on the shoulder and said, "Grab me that screwdriver over there, would you?"
"Screw what?" she said, standing.
"Screwdriver. That little pointy thing on the shelf by the door." He waved a hand in the general direction of the tool he needed.
She started to walk over to get it for him when Rohvu made a strident sound and the entire ship seemed to shudder, knocking John to the floor and sending Chiana careening into the wall.
"Pilot, what the hell was that?" John shouted, steadying himself on his hands and knees. Just as suddenly, the Leviathan stilled and his sounds returned to their former burbling, as if nothing had happened.
"I don't know, John. I can discern no reason for it. Rohvu says that he is fine."
***
Belima was hungry. And lonely. Since the strangers had come – John and Chiana, she reminded herself – she had no other companions and nothing to eat. That first night, when she had been alone with just the two of them, it had seemed to be all right. They had all three slept together for warmth, but now they all slept apart. What was the sense in that? There was no warmth. There was no companionship. Just...aloneness.
She diligently continued to search the world, as John had asked her to do, looking for things. The pretty gold things had made him and the gray girl happy, although she didn't know why, at first. Yes, they were pretty, but you couldn't eat them. But then she had heard John's and Chiana's voices and the voice of the one they called Pilot coming through the little gold things. John had put one on himself, as had Chiana, and then he had made her wear one, too.
She wished she could make sounds like the others did, sounds that meant something, so that she could understand them and they could understand her. John and Chiana had both been trying to teach her. It was hard, but she would try to learn for them – they had been kind to her and had let her live, when all the rest of the family had died.
A sudden jolt through the world made her fall to her knees. She looked around, but there was nothing in the hall near her that could cause her harm if the quake continued, so, when she was sure that all was returned to normal, she stood again. The world quakes happened occasionally, they were simply a fact of life. She continued on.
Her current search brought her back to that big place where the Pilot lived. She entered the room and made her way across to where she could look at the being they called Pilot. She had never been allowed in the room when Kaarvok had been alive and the big creature fascinated her. She saw that his arms were starting to grow back. That was good, but it would still be a long time before they could be harvested again. And she was getting very hungry.
The Pilot said something to her, but she didn't understand, so she turned away from him and continued across the room, careful to walk only in the center of the path. She didn't want to fall again, especially if there came another world quake.
On the other side of the room, she found the body of the creature Kaarvok had wanted her to make babies with. At least, she thought it was him – the body was mostly blackened from a fire or something. He was laying there on his back, with his arms crossed over his massive chest and she wondered if John or Chiana had laid him out like this.
She crouched down and sniffed the body. Satisfied that the meat had not yet gone bad, she took hold of his hands and dragged him toward the door.
***
"That should do it, Pilot," John said as he secured the last wire in place. "Now all we need to do is find us a commerce planet or a supply station for some raw materials."
"And some food," Chiana chimed in.
He looked over at her and saw her holding her stomach. "And maybe some medical attention."
Chiana looked up at him. "I keep tellin' ya, Old Man, I'm fine."
"And I keep not believin' it, Pip." He took a step toward her, looking at her – and the wet blueness on her hands – more closely. "Are you bleeding again?"
"I—"
"Yes, you are." He pulled her hands away from her torso. The wound looked sticky and purple around the edges, not to mention a little puffy. "Chiana, that cut is infected." She started to protest as he swung her up into his arms, but he ignored her as he carried her out of the room and back toward the recyclers, where he could at least wash the wound out as thoroughly as possible, given the lack of soap or antiseptics.
Apparently realizing he wasn't going to let her slough it off as nothing, yet again, Chiana put her arms up around his neck for a more comfortable trip for both of them. She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes.
Turning a corner, John came to a dead halt and nearly dropped her. Coming toward them was Belima, dragging D'Argo's partially burned – he choked down the thought of cooked – body behind her.
"Belima, what are you doing?" he asked in dismay, setting Chiana down.
Chiana was much less diplomatic in her reaction. "Let him go, you fekkik!" she shouted, running toward the Xarai girl as soon as she was released.
Belima dropped D'Argo's hands and then dropped herself into a defensive crouch to ward off the Nebari girl hurtling toward her.
"Chiana, hang on!" John yelled. He, too, sprinted for the other end of the corridor, grabbing Chiana's arm, spinning her around before she could reach Belima.
"What's she gonna do to him, Crichton?! Answer me that!" Chiana was frantic.
"We don't know—"
His reply was cut off. "Food," Belima said, pointing at D'Argo's lifeless form. "Food." Her green eyes met John's horrified blue ones.
Chiana let out a shriek and tried to launch herself at Belima, her intent very clearly to do harm. John didn't let go of her arm, though. "Chiana, stop it. We're not gonna eat D'Argo."
Belima scuttled back away from D'Argo's body. "Food," she said again, pointing, but sounding much less sure of herself.
"No, Belima," John replied, holding his hand over Chiana's mouth as she struggled to break free, hoping she didn't bite him. "Not food. Never food." He shook his head and suddenly found that his whole body was shaking, too. "God, not food."
Chiana stopped struggling when the girl said, "Not...food?" Belima shook her head in imitation of John.
Cautiously, John let go of Chiana when she pulled away from him, still afraid that she was going to attack the Xarai girl. Not taking her eyes off Belima, Chi went to D'Argo. "He's okay, Crichton. She...she didn't hurt him," she said, stroking D'Argo's tankas.
John closed his eyes, wishing he were back on Moya and the universe was a little more sane. "She doesn't know any better, Chi." That being said, he was still sick at the thought. "I think maybe it's time for that funeral."
"Yeah, Crichton. I think that's a good idea."
They had spoken about it right after they found his body, but had gotten a bit side-tracked since. John regretted that now, but none of them were thinking too clearly. Softly, he said, "I'm sorry, D. Man, I'm sorry." He blinked his eyes, hard, then said, "Pilot, have you found us a supply station yet?"
"Yes, John. There is a supply station not too far from here."
"Hallelujah!" He crouched down next to Chiana, touching her lightly on the shoulder. Belima was still kind of huddled in on herself a few feet away from them, but he couldn't worry about her right now. "How long will it take us to get there?" He took Chi's hand and pulled her up so that she was standing next to him, then crouched back down and maneuvered D'Argo around so that he could lift him.
"I do not know, John. We have not been able to move from where we are in several cycles, but Rohvu says that he will probably be able to starburst in less than an arn."
"Wonderful, Pilot. Just get us there as soon as you can." With that, John carefully lifted his friend and made his way back to Pilot's den, Chiana holding D'Argo's hand beside him, a bewildered Belima following cautiously behind.
"Chiana, what are you teaching her?" John shook his head in exasperation as he walked back into Rohvu's neural cluster. Raquel – Belima, she told us her name is Belima – only knew three or four recognizable words, and half of those were "frell" and "dren." Since she hadn't known any words at all two days ago, he thought it was a pretty good bet that Pip was teaching her the UT equivalents of George Carlin's seven deadly words.
After going through as much of the ship as they could over the past couple of days, and with Pilot's help using internal scans – somewhat buggy, but still working – they had determined that the three of them and Pilot were indeed the only living beings remaining on Rohvu. That being the case, it was decided that it should be safe to split up, which might allow cleanup and repair to go a little faster.
While Chiana was supposed to be helping him with repairs in the neural cluster – Pilot was fairly certain the Leviathan could achieve a successful starburst if some repairs to his circuitry were performed – Belima had been set to scavenging for anything usable left aboard the ravaged ship. The most important thing she had found so far had been a box of comms badges, still in working order. The Xarai hadn't been able to eat the things or use them as weapons, so they had somehow missed being destroyed or even damaged.
Hence, the interruption to the repairs this morning when Belima had commed him to come help her get a door open. Actually, he hadn't understood anything of what she said, but she kept comming him until he had asked Pilot where she was and then gone in frustration to see what the frell it was she wanted. Once there, she had pantomimed what the problem was, he had fixed it, and then headed back down two tiers to finish the much-needed repairs.
Now, though, Chiana was nowhere in sight so he picked up the spanner he had dropped onto a shelf upon leaving and returned to the circuit box he had been about to work on. He had been having trouble getting the cover off to get to the circuits, thus the spanner rather than a tool more suited for delicate work.
As he worked at the cover, his stomach growled. The gnaw of hunger was starting to become an almost constant companion, even keeping him awake during what passed for their sleep cycle. He and Chiana had been stuck here on Rohvu for almost three solar days – thank God the ship had a decent water supply. They had both gone without food for days before, but they'd be dead before too much longer without that water. Man, what he wouldn't give for a good – dead – budong right about now.
The cover to the circuit box broke away with a snap. John closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "Sorry, Rohvu," he said to the already wounded ship. "Pilot? Would you please let Rohvu know I didn't mean for that to happen?" The Leviathan was so used to his inhabitants damaging him for no good reason, John wanted to make sure he understood that this had been an accident.
"You didn't mean for what to happen, John?" Pilot's tone sounded genuinely puzzled.
"I didn't mean to break off a piece of him. I didn't mean to cause him any more pain." Sure, it was just a circuit box, just a small thing, but it was still a part of the living ship...
"Rohvu understands, John. He is not upset or hurt. We both are much better than we have been in too many cycles to count."
"You know, Pilot, that's just sad. We're gonna make it up to you two," John said as he stripped a wire, preparing it for reconnection.
"That isn't necessary, John, but we thank you, all the same."
A chirp sounded from the half-moon shaped comm badge attached to his vest, then Chiana's voice said, "Are you back yet, Crichton?"
"Yeah, Pip, where're you?"
"I, uh, had to use the...the waste recycler." Her voice sounded a little thin, but he couldn't tell if that was the comm or if something was wrong.
"You okay, Pip?" She seemed to be getting weaker a lot faster than he would've expected, but that may have been as much due to the blood loss from the cut across her stomach as from hunger.
"Yeah, Crichton. I'm fine. I'll be back there in a couple microts."
"No hurry, Pip. I ain't goin' anywhere," he drawled. Either she'd tell him what was wrong, aside from the obvious, or she'd get so weak that he could just check her out for himself without her fighting him. He was pretty sure that cut needed stitches or something, but she wouldn't let him look at it. He kinda wished Zhaan or even Jool was here. Or that they had some chlorium to help Rohvu with the pain. Or that they'd pass a Taco Bell.
If wishes were fishes...
"I'm back," Chiana popped back into the room with a flourish. "Didja miss me?"
"Ten microts ago, you sounded like you were gonna pass out. Now, you're bouncing off walls. What gives?" John gave her a closer look and didn't like what he saw. Her usually flawless gray skin didn't look good. If anything, she was more blue than gray, but not a good, healthy Delvian kind of blue. More of a holding-your-breath-until-you-suffocate kind of blue.
She abruptly sat, with a kind of boneless grace, on the floor near where he was working. "I'm fine, Crichton. Just, you know, hungry. And, well, maybe...maybe a little..."
"Depressed?" he supplied.
"Yeah, a little depressed. I'm just tryin' to... I'm just trying to act like myself."
"You're not worrying again about being a copy, are you?"
"Maybe..." She wouldn't look him in the eye, even when he reached over to touch her jaw, turning her head toward him.
"Chiana, sweetheart, I don't think we'll ever know if we're live or Memorex." She looked confused at his turn of phrase, but he ignored it. "It doesn't matter, Chi. We're here, we're alive, and we're going to stay that way." She did look at him, then. "It's not like you to worry like this."
She sighed and gave him a little smirk.
"Damn it, Pip, that's not what I meant." That earned him a real smile. He gave her a shove on the shoulder and said, "Grab me that screwdriver over there, would you?"
"Screw what?" she said, standing.
"Screwdriver. That little pointy thing on the shelf by the door." He waved a hand in the general direction of the tool he needed.
She started to walk over to get it for him when Rohvu made a strident sound and the entire ship seemed to shudder, knocking John to the floor and sending Chiana careening into the wall.
"Pilot, what the hell was that?" John shouted, steadying himself on his hands and knees. Just as suddenly, the Leviathan stilled and his sounds returned to their former burbling, as if nothing had happened.
"I don't know, John. I can discern no reason for it. Rohvu says that he is fine."
***
Belima was hungry. And lonely. Since the strangers had come – John and Chiana, she reminded herself – she had no other companions and nothing to eat. That first night, when she had been alone with just the two of them, it had seemed to be all right. They had all three slept together for warmth, but now they all slept apart. What was the sense in that? There was no warmth. There was no companionship. Just...aloneness.
She diligently continued to search the world, as John had asked her to do, looking for things. The pretty gold things had made him and the gray girl happy, although she didn't know why, at first. Yes, they were pretty, but you couldn't eat them. But then she had heard John's and Chiana's voices and the voice of the one they called Pilot coming through the little gold things. John had put one on himself, as had Chiana, and then he had made her wear one, too.
She wished she could make sounds like the others did, sounds that meant something, so that she could understand them and they could understand her. John and Chiana had both been trying to teach her. It was hard, but she would try to learn for them – they had been kind to her and had let her live, when all the rest of the family had died.
A sudden jolt through the world made her fall to her knees. She looked around, but there was nothing in the hall near her that could cause her harm if the quake continued, so, when she was sure that all was returned to normal, she stood again. The world quakes happened occasionally, they were simply a fact of life. She continued on.
Her current search brought her back to that big place where the Pilot lived. She entered the room and made her way across to where she could look at the being they called Pilot. She had never been allowed in the room when Kaarvok had been alive and the big creature fascinated her. She saw that his arms were starting to grow back. That was good, but it would still be a long time before they could be harvested again. And she was getting very hungry.
The Pilot said something to her, but she didn't understand, so she turned away from him and continued across the room, careful to walk only in the center of the path. She didn't want to fall again, especially if there came another world quake.
On the other side of the room, she found the body of the creature Kaarvok had wanted her to make babies with. At least, she thought it was him – the body was mostly blackened from a fire or something. He was laying there on his back, with his arms crossed over his massive chest and she wondered if John or Chiana had laid him out like this.
She crouched down and sniffed the body. Satisfied that the meat had not yet gone bad, she took hold of his hands and dragged him toward the door.
***
"That should do it, Pilot," John said as he secured the last wire in place. "Now all we need to do is find us a commerce planet or a supply station for some raw materials."
"And some food," Chiana chimed in.
He looked over at her and saw her holding her stomach. "And maybe some medical attention."
Chiana looked up at him. "I keep tellin' ya, Old Man, I'm fine."
"And I keep not believin' it, Pip." He took a step toward her, looking at her – and the wet blueness on her hands – more closely. "Are you bleeding again?"
"I—"
"Yes, you are." He pulled her hands away from her torso. The wound looked sticky and purple around the edges, not to mention a little puffy. "Chiana, that cut is infected." She started to protest as he swung her up into his arms, but he ignored her as he carried her out of the room and back toward the recyclers, where he could at least wash the wound out as thoroughly as possible, given the lack of soap or antiseptics.
Apparently realizing he wasn't going to let her slough it off as nothing, yet again, Chiana put her arms up around his neck for a more comfortable trip for both of them. She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes.
Turning a corner, John came to a dead halt and nearly dropped her. Coming toward them was Belima, dragging D'Argo's partially burned – he choked down the thought of cooked – body behind her.
"Belima, what are you doing?" he asked in dismay, setting Chiana down.
Chiana was much less diplomatic in her reaction. "Let him go, you fekkik!" she shouted, running toward the Xarai girl as soon as she was released.
Belima dropped D'Argo's hands and then dropped herself into a defensive crouch to ward off the Nebari girl hurtling toward her.
"Chiana, hang on!" John yelled. He, too, sprinted for the other end of the corridor, grabbing Chiana's arm, spinning her around before she could reach Belima.
"What's she gonna do to him, Crichton?! Answer me that!" Chiana was frantic.
"We don't know—"
His reply was cut off. "Food," Belima said, pointing at D'Argo's lifeless form. "Food." Her green eyes met John's horrified blue ones.
Chiana let out a shriek and tried to launch herself at Belima, her intent very clearly to do harm. John didn't let go of her arm, though. "Chiana, stop it. We're not gonna eat D'Argo."
Belima scuttled back away from D'Argo's body. "Food," she said again, pointing, but sounding much less sure of herself.
"No, Belima," John replied, holding his hand over Chiana's mouth as she struggled to break free, hoping she didn't bite him. "Not food. Never food." He shook his head and suddenly found that his whole body was shaking, too. "God, not food."
Chiana stopped struggling when the girl said, "Not...food?" Belima shook her head in imitation of John.
Cautiously, John let go of Chiana when she pulled away from him, still afraid that she was going to attack the Xarai girl. Not taking her eyes off Belima, Chi went to D'Argo. "He's okay, Crichton. She...she didn't hurt him," she said, stroking D'Argo's tankas.
John closed his eyes, wishing he were back on Moya and the universe was a little more sane. "She doesn't know any better, Chi." That being said, he was still sick at the thought. "I think maybe it's time for that funeral."
"Yeah, Crichton. I think that's a good idea."
They had spoken about it right after they found his body, but had gotten a bit side-tracked since. John regretted that now, but none of them were thinking too clearly. Softly, he said, "I'm sorry, D. Man, I'm sorry." He blinked his eyes, hard, then said, "Pilot, have you found us a supply station yet?"
"Yes, John. There is a supply station not too far from here."
"Hallelujah!" He crouched down next to Chiana, touching her lightly on the shoulder. Belima was still kind of huddled in on herself a few feet away from them, but he couldn't worry about her right now. "How long will it take us to get there?" He took Chi's hand and pulled her up so that she was standing next to him, then crouched back down and maneuvered D'Argo around so that he could lift him.
"I do not know, John. We have not been able to move from where we are in several cycles, but Rohvu says that he will probably be able to starburst in less than an arn."
"Wonderful, Pilot. Just get us there as soon as you can." With that, John carefully lifted his friend and made his way back to Pilot's den, Chiana holding D'Argo's hand beside him, a bewildered Belima following cautiously behind.