Left Behind, Chapter 11
Pilot was passively monitoring the supply station's communications system when he was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps, echoing loudly behind him in his otherwise quiet den. He assumed Belima approached, since the others had not yet returned and there had been no indication that any of the other Xarai had survived.
"Belima?"
At his inquiry, the shuffling footsteps stopped. Pilot turned as far as he could to look over his shoulder, but he could only see the girl from the periphery of his vision. Until his arms regenerated enough that he could reach some of his tactile controls, he was not able to swivel his position to his accustomed 360 degrees.
The footsteps began again, but still she said nothing.
"Belima, do you need something?" Pilot was beginning to get a bit nervous. The Xarai girl did not have a large vocabulary, as yet, but John and Chiana had taught her enough for at least rudimentary communication… "John and Chiana should be returning soon."
The sound of the footsteps stopped again just short of his command console.
"Please, Belima, say something."
"Hungry. Food."
"Well, that was fun." Chiana grinned at Crichton when he lifted his head from examining Winona to shoot her a look.
"That was not fun, Chiana. We're lucky we made it off that station in one piece." He tapped the pistol with one finger, for no reason she could fathom, before bringing it up close to his face.
"Something wrong with Winona, Old Man?"
"Don't know. It doesn't look like anything's wrong, but she wouldn't fire at the end, there." He popped out the chakan oil cartridge, which appeared to Chiana to be nearly at full capacity.
The situation reminded her of a few monens back – a lifetime ago, it seemed – when Winona had jammed on that commerce planet and Aeryn and Rygel had covered John and herself as they left in the transport pod, just before they had discovered that Moya had been taken over by Varla. John had been pretty irritated at her suggestion that Winona had jammed, that she might be less than the perfect pulse pistol.
"Maybe she jammed," Chiana said with a smirk.
Crichton's blue eyes narrowed and he shot her another look, one that said he remembered the incident, too. "Winona does not jam."
"Oh, my," the woman flying their ship said. "Is that your Leviathan, Johnny?"
Crichton returned Winona to her holster and moved to stand beside the pilot, just behind the co-pilot's seat in which Tokar Rhee sat. Reyna Val stood at almost the same time, moving to stand beside her mate to get a better look at the forward monitor.
"Yeah, that's Rohvu," Crichton said.
"What's the matter with him?" Chiana asked, surprised to see the enormous ship bucking and twisting in what looked like random, violent spasms. Maybe she shouldn't have brought up the Nebari incident on Moya…
"I don't know," the pilot, whose name she couldn't remember, responded, "but I'm getting some sort of distress call…"
The woman hit a switch and suddenly they were surrounded by an eerie, swirling keening sound and the terrified voice of Rohvu's pilot saying, "Please! Belima! You mustn't do this!"
"Frell." Chiana's voice was almost a whisper. She looked over at Crichton – even in profile, the look on his face spoke volumes.
"Oh, God." Crichton, in turn, looked toward Chiana. His blue eyes were filled with the same revulsion she felt as he said, "Furlow, we've got to get over there as fast you can do it."
"Are you kidding me? Johnny, there's no way I can land with that ship dancing like that. What the frell is going on, anyway?"
"Just do it, Furlow." There was steel in his voice.
"Johnny—"
Chiana cut her off. "You've got to get us in there before she kills Pilot."
Reyna's voice beside Chiana sounded puzzled. "Is this a crewmate of yours? Why would she kill your pilot?"
"Because she's not exactly what you'd call mentally stable," Crichton answered, "and she hasn't had anything to eat for about four solar days."
With a dramatic sigh, Furlow hit various controls and the gyrating Leviathan grew rapidly larger in the view screen. "I'm just guessing here," she said, "but, there won't be any docking web, right?"
"Please! Belima! You mustn't do this!"
Belima heard the words of the one the others called Pilot, but, other than her name, she didn't know what those words meant. She understood the tone of his voice, though, even as she climbed up onto the surface surrounding him, knife in hand. A stab of anxiety ran through her, but she was so hungry. And, although she had never participated in any of the Xarai hunting parties, it clearly wasn't the first time the creature's arms had been harvested.
She reached up to grasp the arm closest to her. It was small, not having fully grown back, but there was nothing else in all the world for her to eat and she didn't believe that John and Chiana were ever coming back…
As her hand connected with the small, soft appendage, the world shook around her in a particularly violent quake. Belima was thrown from the surface that had been supporting her – almost thrown down into the lake below, into which she had fallen that first morning after John and Chiana had come. She made a desperate grab at the walkway and was able to get a grip on the edge on her way down, abruptly stopping her fall.
She had to grip the edge so hard that it made her injured wrists hurt, but she was still able to swing one leg up onto the walkway. As Belima struggled to pull herself back up, she realized that she had lost her knife. She closed her eyes for a microt, almost in despair – she didn't think she could just take a bite out of one of his arms if it was still attached. She opened her eyes again, heaving with all her strength, pulling with both arms and the leg she had hooked over the edge.
Finally, she was able to pull herself back up onto the walkway. The world was still shaking around her, the air was still filled with that horrible noise, and her vision was turning white again, but at least she wasn't going to drown in the smelly lake. She took another microt to catch her breath and allow her vision to return to normal. When she could see again, Belima looked around, spying her knife laying against the place where Pilot lived.
She scrambled to her feet again, before she lost her nerve. Grasping the knife, she stood, looking wide-eyed at Pilot's back.
"Belima, please…" Pilot's voice as he said her name sounded very small and frightened. She understood being frightened – she had been afraid for most of her life – but she was so hungry… She took a step toward him.
"Belima! Stop!"
John Crichton appeared in the far opening, stopping with his hands gripping either side of the doorway. Then he sprinted toward her, followed close behind by Chiana. The look in his eyes made her take an involuntary step back from her quarry. The look on Chiana's face made her spin around and run as fast as she could to escape, her hunger momentarily forgotten.
"Pilot, man, are you all right?" Seeing Belima disappear through the opposite door, John vaulted up onto the console to make sure for himself that Pilot hadn't been injured. All four vestigial arms were still there, kind of flailing around as the big crustacean took in huge gulps of air.
Chiana hurtled past them, running toward the door through which Belima had just vanished. "Let her go, for now, Chi, she's not going anywhere." His words caused the Nebari to slow and finally to stop, halfway between Pilot's console and the door.
"She didn't hurt him, did she, Crichton?" Chiana asked without turning around.
"I don't see any new injuries." Pilot still hadn't said anything, although Rohvu's convulsions seemed to have subsided. "Pilot?"
"I-I-I—" Pilot stuttered in response.
John reached for Pilot's great head as he heard the others approach along the catwalk behind him. As he pulled Pilot's head down a bit so he could look into the frightened orange eyes, he felt Chiana climb up beside him, saw her gloved hand reach out to stroke Pilot's cheek.
"We're here now, Pilot," she said. "We won't let her hurt you."
"I am…unharmed," Pilot finally squeezed out, answering John's earlier question. The Human's eyes closed in relief.
"Pilot, I am so sorry…" Chiana said. "We should've…should've figured out a…a…a way to take her with us."
"It is not your fault, Chiana." Pilot's voice was stronger, more sure.
"If your pilot there doesn't have any arms, how'd he manage to send that distress signal?" Furlow's voice questioned from behind. "I didn't think subspace communication could be done on a Leviathan without using the control panel."
Relaxing a bit now that Pilot was no longer in immediate danger, John turned around toward the curious faces of Furlow, Reyna, and Tokar. He sat, allowing his legs to dangle. Chiana remained as she was, still stroking Pilot's cheek.
Before John could say anything, Pilot himself answered Furlow's question. "You are mistaken. I have no such need of physical controls to send a distress signal, but I did not send one. I…was…too frightened to even think of it."
"Then it must've been Rohvu," Chiana said.
"I didn't think a Leviathan could do that on its own," Furlow replied.
"Just how much do you know about Leviathans, Furlow?" Crichton asked.
"I've been doing some, ah, research since you last visited DamBaDa."
John jumped down from the console and came toward the others. "Rohvu here isn't exactly like your average Leviathan." Since things here were calming down, he was going to see if he could find Belima and get some food into her. He wasn't sure how she'd react to food cubes, but there was no way they were going to let her eat Pilot and he was pretty sure she had only attacked him out of desperation. Explanations could wait.
Well, things certainly are proving to be interesting, Reyna thought as she picked her way gingerly through the room Crichton had shown Tokar and herself to, before leaving to search for his wayward crewmate. The room, a former cell on this ex-prisoner transport, was an appalling mess with bits of trash and… By Cholak! Are those bones?!
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" she muttered.
"Did you say something, Rey?" Tokar asked from the doorway, where he had paused to assess what needed to be done to make their new "quarters" inhabitable.
"I was just wondering what the hezmana happened on this ship," she replied, gesturing to the bones peeking out from under assorted odd bits of trash and to spots on the walls that had clearly been hacked at with something more or less sharp.
"I'm not sure I want to know, love." Tokar moved briskly into the room and began to throw things out into the corridor. "Let's just get rid of everything in here but the stuff that's attached to the bulkheads. Once we get it cleared out, we'll find Chiana or Crichton and see about getting something to clean it with."
Things just keep getting better and better. All John wanted was to find himself a dark – safe! – corner so he could curl up into a little ball and sleep. But that wasn't going to happen anytime in the foreseeable future.
Chiana had remained in the den with Pilot, saying she didn't want to leave him just yet. Pilot, poor guy, seemed to appreciate that sentiment. John had dragged their new Peacekeeper friends to one of the crew levels and showed them to the least offensive of the cells. It was a different level from the one on which he and Chiana had claimed quarters, but he didn't think that would present a problem. Furlow had gone back to her ship, saying she'd just bunk there, since that's what she was used to. And here he was, looking for Belima.
John didn't know what he was going to do or say when he found her. The sight of her in Pilot's den, clearly meaning to cut off a part of him and chow down, had freaked him out pretty well. On the one hand, he couldn't really blame her – she had been hungry and had reverted to what she was used to, the same as she had when she'd found D'Argo's body. On the other hand, what if Chiana had been too sick or weak to go to the supply station with him? What if she had been here and helpless and Belima had attacked her with dinner on her mind?
We are definitely going to have to do something about that. Maybe the presence of more people aboard Rohvu would help to teach the girl not to eat her shipmates.
He had finally reached the part of the Leviathan where Kaarvok had demonstrated so amply just why he kept twinning the Xarai, the place where John had found D'Argo's dead body and Belima, trying to wake him. He didn't really expect to find her in the first place he looked, but he had to start somewhere and this seemed as logical a place as any.
"Belima! You don't have to hide!" he shouted. "I won't hurt you!" At least, he didn't think he would – he was still more than a little freaked out at what they had stopped from happening less than an hour ago.
Standing in the middle of the intersection of corridors, John closed his eyes and just tried to listen. Given that there were so few living beings on this ship, any random sounds should stand out pretty well against the burbling noises that Rohvu had returned to.
There. Was that a footstep? He opened his eyes and turned to his left, taking a few steps down the corridor toward an open doorway. This level seemed to be made up of more prisoner cells, but they were in even worse shape than the ones on the level he and Chi had chosen to clean up as living space.
The room in which he found himself, though, was relatively clean. Okay, maybe clean isn't the right term, he thought, spying some bloodstains and bits of cloth on the floor by what looked to be a bed of sorts. Nearby was a pile of blankets, almost a nest, lying on the floor. Hanging from the middle of the high ceiling was a set of manacles right out of some B horror flick. Well that was certainly appropriate.
"Belima, are you in here?"
He was surprised when she sprang up from the other side of the bed and made a break for the open door, but not surprised enough that he couldn't catch her wrist as she sprinted past him. As he swung her around to face him, she squeaked and cringed back away from him, clearly terrified that he would hit her.
Well, that answers one question, he thought, as her reaction to his presence chased all thought of harming her from his mind. "Hush, it's okay." He knew she didn't understand much, if any, of what he said, but he hoped the tone would get through to her as he pulled her in and held her close for a minute, as he would have a frightened child. She was shaking in his arms, so he pushed her back a bit to look at her. Enormous green eyes blinked trustingly up at him from a pale, pinched looking face as he brushed her hair back.
Taking a step back from Belima, John reached down and took her hand in his. "Let's go get you some food."