Author notes:

First, as always, my extreme gratitude to those wonderful and loyal people who review. Anyone who wishes to engage in a dialogue, a deeper discussion of TML or anything else for that matter, feel free to use the e-mail address on my profile page to contact me. I am very interested in your images, attitudes and opinions of the people.

Second, aaahhhhh the relief, this chapter is the final one in the initial escape. We will finally reach day two. I promise most heartily that time will return to a more normal pace.

-

-

-

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

-

-

Chapter 17 - Identity and Trust

-

-

Jenna had been watching the nav display. It had been rather disturbing to find out that it was only a simulation, that there wasn't any navigation occurring. They were 'riding the pipe', being carried through hyper by something similar to an underwater current in an ocean. All the hyper drive engines were doing was maintaining the constant acceleration designated for this particular jump. Their location on the plot display was where they ought to be at this elapsed time of the journey. Where they really were only God could say precisely; only God and Jenna.

She was a pathfinder .... make that 'Pathfinder!'. She couldn't think of anything in her life that had given her the astonishing rush of pure joy that his comment that 'she' could navigate if she wanted had given her. OK, his calling her 'his' little pathfinder had doubled the thrill but finally realizing what being a pathfinder meant was the initial lift off.

While snuggled in his lap, the physical part of her concentrating on absorbing every detail of that experience, another part of her was equally concentrated on studying the energy that flowed around her. In a very short time reading the flux of the walls of energy, she became convinced that she actually could navigate in hyper. However, she couldn't do it with the present configuration of the ship's hyper system. It was nothing but a straight acceleration system. To navigate in hyper, drives and controls would need to be added that would bring it into the same configuration as the Keller drive. The BC would also have to receive the same upgrades. It wouldn't be wise to risk the mother ship in first run exploration. It was a 'David, Jeff, I have a project for you.' situation.

While all this was going on, a third part of her mind was analyzing the interaction between herself and the man before he had retreated into this comfortable silent communion. She had been aware from the first that she was not experiencing hyper in the same manner that he was. She had the same heightening of sensation and emotion but had not suffered any lost of impulse control. It seemed that as far as hyper was concerned, she was a 'sober drunk'. While her personal revelations to him had been totally conscious and intentional, his had been driven by his subconscious. She was totally astonished at what it had chosen to reveal. Consciously, he might still distrust her as much as he did everyone else but his subconscious had other ideas.

From what Ben had said during the discussion of the 'pay-back' programming, he had to have described the whole of Jenna's connection with the work of prison personnel in her field and also her special interest in one certain prisoner. If her companion had been in control of himself, he would never have given her the personal information he had blurted out. So, now she knew and knew also that her instincts, her intuition had not failed her. But what to do about it?

She was still considering this when her swiftly developing hyper-sense told her that something was changing. Only a few seconds later the nav console bleeped out its warning that they were approaching the transition back into normal space. He lifted her so easily and placed her in his lap in the same position as when they had entered hyper. She adjusted the console, checked that the ship's shields had activated and prepared to assume control from the auto nav. She called up the system chart. New Mecca was in the perfect third planet position around a nearly perfect Sol type star. The few instructions he gave her were spoken in a soft whisper, his mouth very close to her ear.

As soon as they made the transition, he directed her to plot for the smallest, farthest-out moon of the sixth planet and set an orbit around it. But these instructions were spoken in a weary but normal voice. He had leaned back in the slot, no longer holding her against him. Worse than that, as she felt the ebb of the hyper energy, she felt the strange but wonderful bond that had formed between them also weakening.

She kicked the Keller drive and entered the system so hot that had the Hole not been shielded she would have gotten a very heavy dressing down and fine for it from the system's Traffic Control. In the short time it took to reach her target and set orbit, the communion between them was nothing more than a very thin and delicate thread. As she finished setting the auto and closing down the console, she made her decision. She had no choice but to continue as if nothing had changed. He would have to willingly reveal who he was and she would have to wait for that.

She pushed the console away and stood.

"Up, Riddle. We have to wake Syrus and get on with it. We can sleep in the Quizzler chambers."

He struggled up, looking as exhausted as she felt.

"I told you that you're not getting the surgery until I am sure it's ok."

Exhaustion didn't seem to effect his stubbornness.

"That was before. Now, I have to get to a hacker system as soon as possible. I trust Syrus about this and you are going to have to find a way to trust that. Put a message on the main view screen telling Jeeter and Ben not to leave the bridge or let anyone else on it until we return. I'll be trying to find the strength to change into a duty uniform. Why didn't you tell me that coming out made you feel like a boiled noodle?"

He didn't answer until she was almost through the lounge hatch.

"I forgot about hyper doing that. It gets better the more jumps you make."

My goodness, he actually sounded a bit apologetic about that lapse. Coupled with the fact that he hadn't given her further argument about the eye surgery, it suggested to her that the closeness that they had developed in hyper wasn't completely gone. As she dressed, waited for him to complete his uniform and then led him through the ship to Syrus' infirmary, she drew a great deal of strength from this.

Even at that, by the time Syrus finally finished his examination of Riddle's prison shine, she was ready to fall on her face. She hadn't even had the energy to have anything but a mental reaction to his description of the barbaric method in which it had been preformed. Under normal circumstances, she would probably have run from the room in sick horror. Finally, she was called on to supply the choice of Riddle's new eye color. She thanked providence that she had already made that decision.

"The same color chart as mine but the darkest sample; the almost black green. I can't remember what it's called."

"Black Forest."

Syrus supplied this information as he held the color chart up to Riddle's face to make his own judgement.

"Yes. Actually quite pleasant esthetically. On the table, if you will, First."

Syrus didn't bat an eye as Riddle's dagger rig clinked against the metal rim of the table. He was also dressed in his proper duty uniform with a black lab apron added. Jenna noted this show of his support as she summoned the energy to voice a concern of her own.

"The shine? Will it be completely gone? No beautiful silver at all?"

It seemed that simple exhaustion had a much greater effect on her impulse control than hyper. Syrus gave her a sardonic smirk.

"I couldn't eliminate the shine in very dark conditions but I usually give it a pastel of the color chart chosen. Since you so obviously prefer the silver, my dear, I wouldn't think of giving you anything else. But First should make that decision for his."

Syrus was playing games again. But Riddle had his number.

"Cats' eyes aren't my style, Doc. Not scary enough. I'll stick with the silver."

This got Riddle a smirk of approval from Syrus. Would miracles never cease. There was another such smirk when Riddle refused anything but the local medications. This having opened the subject of the hyper-cryo-stunner question, while Syrus preformed the surgery, there was a running conversation between him and Riddle on this subject. Jenna was called upon occasionally to make comments. Oddly enough, she had become so fascinated with the surgery that she was a bit irritated at these interruptions of her concentration. This fascination didn't carry over when it was time for her own surgery. She took the sensory deadening drugs, fell asleep before they were fully effective and awoke seven hours later as Syrus released her from the healing chamber. Her eyes were still covered but she found out immediately that Riddle was already up and busy. His deep rumble was extremely nice to wake up to.

"Jeeter and Ben are awake and working on that little glitch in the main computer. All the rest are still sleeping. How do you feel?"

A quick check gave Jenna surprising results. She felt better than she could remember ever having felt on awakening.

"Fantastic. And you? Are you seeing, yet? Is it everything Syrus promised?"

"Yes. But my memories are over eleven years old. I'm easy to please."

Syrus hurumphed.

"Such lavish and uninhibited praise is overwhelming. Except for a slight farsightedness, a condition I was 'not' informed of, your vision tested on the high edge of normal in every way. Your night vision capability is better than any subject I have had; presumably because of your previous experience with it. Now,... unless the two of you have more important business, I would like to see how Jenna tests."

"Go for it. I want to see what color her eyes are."

"I showed you the chart."

"Not the same, Doc. Not the same at all."

Syrus put a period to this exchange with an almost pleasant chuckle and began removing the protective bandaging over Jenna's eyes. Jenna was stunned. That particular chuckle was Syrus' way of signaling his acceptance of someone. She could count the number of people who, to her knowledge, had received it on one hand and still had fingers left over. She and Mr. Sen were the only members of the group so honored. It didn't save you from his snarky wit; only signified that you were a worthy opponent instead of simple target practice. Only Ben and David were exempt from persecution. He might become irritated with them but never snarky. A capacity for compassion, abet a very small one, did exist in Syrus.

"Which do you want to see first, Jenna? Day or night?"

"I don't know. .... Wait! Yes I do. I want to see day first and then ... then I want to watch it very slowly turn into night."

"Ah, at last, a connoisseur. This calls for better surroundings. First, if you will, assist Jenna and follow me."

Riddle didn't bother with trying to lead her. He gathered her into his arms and carried her. Ooooou, life was better than she ever dreamed it could be. After a fairly short walk and a set of stairs, he set her down on a well cushioned piece of furniture that seemed to be some sort of lounger.

"Where are we?"

It was Syrus that answered her.

"My medicinal plant garden." He placed something palm-sized, metallic and box shaped in her hand. "I presume that First can manage to remove the last layer of bandage. This control is set for 'noon'. You can change it to any time of day you desire for as long as you desire. I recommend sunset. Have fun."

Jenna felt his presence withdraw and, after a short time, heard the sound of a hatch closing. What game was he playing?

"Is this normal for him?"

"No. I should be reading eye charts by now."

"That's what I thought. .... Are you ready for this?"

"You're the one who can see. Am I?"

"Maybe. This place is a garden about the same way that the Taj Mahal is a tomb. Just how rich are you people?"

"As a group, filthy. All right, I'm prepared. Take the bandage off."

Jenna knew that Syrus' 'garden' was extensive. His lab area was 'T' shaped, the top level extending to take half of the second stories of both Ben's and David's labs. It served a vital function in the air and water purification systems of the ship. She also knew that its lighting and atmospheric systems had been quite expensive. None of this information prepared her for what she saw as Riddle, standing behind her, lifted the bandage.

Riddle had been right on with his comparison to the Taj Mahal. She was sitting in a grassy clearing in an endless expanse of lush bushes and plants. Many were profusely blooming and the myriad of colors were dazzling. Outside of what she knew to be the limits of the garden, it seemed to continue and turn into a forest of large trees. The overhead seemed to be a noon sky complete with totally realistic clouds and sun. Looking at the control, she found that she could not only set the time of the twenty-four hour cycle she wanted but also the weather conditions that would please her. She could even get gently rained on it she wanted or watch a distant thunder storm. Instead of the usual stainless steel, coldly regimented hydroponics, Syrus had created a Garden of Eden. More surprising, he seemed to have temporarily assigned the roles of Adam and Eve to Riddle and herself. Neither were something that she would ever have expected from Syrus. She thought that last was a very interesting idea.

"How are the eyes?"

Riddle's question pulled her back to the initial purpose. She concentrated on seeing rather than what she was seeing. There was a difference. Things real had a different texture than the extended images. Things living had a different texture from things dead. Thought the rich, sharply defined colors of the brocade that covered the lounger were still beautiful, they lacked some subtle essence that seemed to radiate from the living flowers. She felt that she had never seen so clearly before. It took much of the magic out of Syrus' garden but it would put magic into any planet side scenery. It would also add very useful depths of knowledge about any situation she might find herself caught in; a more that fair trade.

She gave Riddle her impressions. The tone of his one word agreement told her that the time elapsed since he had last had 'normal' vision had given him some doubts about his judgement. She dialed the sunset. At first she was disappointed but then found that if she relaxed her concentration, became reflective, most of the magic of it returned. Her soft murmur of pleasure caught Riddle's attention.

"How?"

"Stop studying it. Just let it be there."

His hand squeezed her shoulder as he discovered the trick of it. She wished that it was him she was leaning against instead of the back of the lounge. After a time, he prodded her again.

"Try night."

She dialed night and full moon, then quarter moon and finally moonless. It was amazing. Even on the moonless night setting, with only pinpricks of simulated stars providing any illumination she could see well enough to distinguish individual plants and objects. She dialed out the stars. She could still pick out living from dead in this pitch black.

"Is this like your shine was?"

"Better."

She brought them back to daylight very suddenly and her eyes seemed to adjust to the light much quicker than they had been able to before but she felt Riddle start.

"A problem?"

"Not really. Past experience. A change like that would have made me helpless. Even my eyelids wouldn't cut enough of it to keep it from hurting like .... from hurting. Now what?"

"Now I want to see you."

As he came around from in back of her, she shifted so that he could sit on the lounger facing her. As he faced her, Jenna felt a tremor of fear. She closed her eyes and turned away. With gentle fingers, he caressed her cheek and forced her face back to his.

"Open your eyes, sweet thing. You picked the color for me so you're just going to have to get used to it."

Oh, God! He was being so kind. She forced her eyes open. She could still read what lay behind the eyes. His desire for her was real. It wouldn't be forever but, for now, it was real. Like iron to a magnet she slowly leaned toward him.

"Your eyes are beautiful, sweet thing. Light greens and blues, all shifting an swirling; deep water on a bright calm day."

"Yours are the same only so dark; night and storming; black waves with green crests."

"Make it night."

She dialed moonless once more. No, not moonless. Two moons. Two beautiful silver moons that drew her closer and closer. Her lips parted of their own will as they neared his. Then the hand holding her face shifted. His thumb caressed her lips blocking them from reaching his.

"I thought you wanted a hacker system as soon as possible?"

An awful thought battered Jenna's mind. He hadn't kissed her except in hyper. He wasn't one of the weak ones who allowed their dicks to make decisions for them. She would have drawn away but he increased the force of his hold on her face just enough to tell her that he didn't want her to do that.

"And you're anxious to see your friends, of course. Will I get to meet them?"

"Yes. One of them is your hacker. There's something I have to tell you before that. It might as well be now."

NO! Not this way. Please, not this way.

"Don't! You don't have to. You see them first. Tell them to call you Riddle, Barrol; I don't care. Tell them not to trust me."

She pulled her face from his grasp and kissed him. She begged him with the passion of her mouth to leave things as they were. To wait until he truly wanted to tell her.

She felt his fingers twisting her hair and the pain as he jerked her away from him and held her in an unnatural arc.

"How long have you known?!?!?"

It was the snarl of a cornered beast.

-

-

***********************************************************************************

-

-

It took only seconds for conscious thought to catch up with habitual reaction but the damage had already been done. Riddick felt like the shit that Jeeter had accused him of being. He was ready to trust her, to tell her. What did it matter if she knew already? It mattered because, depending on when and, more importantly, how she knew, that trust could change. He did ease his hold on her and allow her to settle into a more comfortable position as he waited for her answer.

"I'm sure that Ben told you of my special interest in you, how comprehensively I have studied your files. The similarities started piling up from the beginning. But it was impossible. You were dead. I tried to mark it off as a result of the criteria that I had given Mr. G but they just kept building. When I discovered that the perfect fit Ben had found for the pocket you had added to the back of my belt was a copy of one of your shivs, I thought I was going crazy.

"It was what you told me during the jump that really gave you away. Only Richard B. Riddick fit the description you gave of your history."

"Give me the details."

"Very few inmates come to slam from military courts; basically only those who insist on escaping the military facilities at every chance. I was making a particular study of them when I encountered your records. Yours was the only history in the group that included being trashed shortly after birth. The closest to it were one man who had been abandoned at three days old when his mother fled the hospital without him and another who had been taken by the authorities after being beaten and tortured to near death at six months of age."

Riddick still wasn't satisfied.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

He could see the heat of embarrassment creeping up her face.

"I wanted you to choose to tell me yourself."

Oh, Shit. Riddick really hoped that this wasn't some emotional woman thing. Being in lust with each other was one thing, a very enjoyable thing. The 'L' word wasn't. In fact, it wasn't even in Riddick's vocabulary; hadn't ever been there.

"Then why didn't you want me to tell you now?"

"I wanted you to trust me enough to do it; not be forced into it because of our need for a hacker system."

Riddick felt a swell of relief. Trust was acceptable.

"If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have brought you here in the first place. Any more questions?"

Her shine suddenly looked like illuminated pinwheels. Now what was that?

"Yes, one. When I'm doing all that moaning at the appropriate times, do you prefer Richard or Rick?"

Now, that was the way he liked her, brazen and sassy.

"Your choice."

He pulled her to him and lowered his face to kiss her. His lips met finger tips instead of other lips. Now he knew what the pinwheels meant. He should have known that it wouldn't be that easy. She might have doubts about one thing but the rest of her was pure steel. Nor could he could blame her for setting him back. It was still a matter of trust. She had given him hers and he had returned that with a ........ damn you, Riddick! Put the word to it. Admit that she was right about that ...... He had returned her trust with a paranoid attack. She had her right to pay-back.

"But as you said, we do have other important things to think about now. I need to get Syrus' tests out of the way. You need to see how things are going on the bridge and prepare the BC for our journey to New Mecca."

No, he didn't blame her but that didn't mean he wasn't going to test her will power.

"Not even one kiss? Just for luck."

Oh, Riddick, how far can you sink? But it worked. The fingers disappeared. When his lips touched hers she responded. 'Responded'...... oh, yeah ..... It hadn't been the hyper before. If anything, this was even better. It was so hot, so fine. He captured her lower lip; nipping it with his teeth, caressing it with his tongue. She teased his upper lip with her tongue; slipping behind it, laving both its inner side and his teeth with the same hungry strokes.

He sucked her tongue into his mouth. After a few moments of surrendering to him, she changed the game. She took top. She began thrusting into his mouth. Without thinking he tightened and relaxed his lips in rhythm with her thrusts. He began using his tongue; mimicking what she had done to him in hyper; returning the same pleasure to her. Some part of him was shocked. This wasn't natural. It was.... It was ........ Oh, fuck!! ..... This side of it was making him burn just as much as the other had.

He shoved his hands under her long vest; running them over the strong curves of her back and butt, along the smooth lines of her thighs. She felt like no woman he had ever know. The 'honest' women of the outer planets were hard muscles and work-driven thin. Their sisters who made their living on their backs were lush but soft muscled. Jenna was the best of both. Lush under his hands while her arms, wrapped around his ribs and upward across his back, and her hands, fingers clutching and kneading his shoulders, had the strength to give him pleasure-pain like he had never experienced it before. There would be no cat marks; finger tip bruises would be her brand.

She broke her mouth away from his. Her arms moved from around his chest to his neck. Leaning back, she offered him her throat. Tender, smooth, vulnerable throat. He closed his mouth on the artery; felt the hard surges of her blood through the wall of that 'line of life'. She inhaled with a gasp then released that breath in a passionate moan. It was like ice and then fire against his ear and cheek. Fuck this half body clinch. He wanted her whole body; wanted it stretched out against his, under his. He started to shift their position. The rigs attached to their belts snagged on each other; tangled.

He reached to separate them. As he touched cold steel and hard leather, his mind sobered almost the same as it had in hyper. Then, it had been a matter of his ego. Now, ..... now it was something else. "One kiss" .... it had been just a 'line', hadn't it?. He looked into her eyes. She would have him. There was no doubt of it. It was there in her sunshine sea eyes. But there was also something else; something deeper, core deep. "One kiss" .... it had been his word given. She had turned his test of her into her own test of him. He untangled the rigs, stood and pulled her up to stand beside him. Then, without a word spoken between them, he led her to the hatch of the infirmary. But as he turned away from her there to see to the bridge and the BC, she laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"Thank you ....... Rick."

Then she was gone; leaving only the soft echo of her words in his ears, the image of her face back-lit by joy and the sweet smell of her on his skin. There was also a painful ache for her in a great deal more of his anatomy that just the part between his legs. He didn't know what to think about that. Part of him wanted it in the same way his eyes now craved color and light. But, another part wanted to deny it, run from it at the speed of hyper. It was too much to deal with fresh like this. He pushed it back into the recesses of his mind to peculate and ripen; replaced it with something safer.

Now, that name .... Rick. It wasn't a name he had ever used; not as a nick-name, not as a alias. It wouldn't have been his choice of the two. He spoke it aloud as he walked toward the bridge. Its single syllable was strong, hard, sharp like a shiv. It echoed off the bulkheads of the gangway like a ricochet. Yet, on her lips, it had been a caress. Damn. He liked it. It felt right. To bad it was too close to his real name to keep.

As he walked onto the bridge, he spotted Jeeter and Ben both ass up in the guts of the main computer console.

"What's the condition here and on the BC?"

They both jumped at the sound of his voice but didn't miss a beat in whatever they were doing to the console's wiring. Ben was the one who answered him.

"We've got a tarantula. But I think it's only the Hole involved. I've already look at the BC and it's clean of the hardware a tarantula needs. That makes sense. The BC never had anything but its own data as a pod transport. Its main is rather stupid. As soon as I can disconnect the shit here. I'll be able to find the programming and get rid of it."

"Spy-ware that needs hardware?"

The look Ben threw over his shoulder was priceless. It was like a college professor trying to figure out how to tell something to a kindergartner. Riddick couldn't take offence because in this case the comparison was accurate.

"Just try, Ben."

"Ok. Think of most spy-ware as a web spider; leaves threads, trails in the programming. No matter how subtle they are, you can always find a thread if you're good enough. A tarantula's trails are hidden in the hardware instead. Programmers and debuggers aren't into the hardware side at all. That makes the tarantula invisible to them. The disadvantage, and why it is very rare to run into one, is that you can't do it by remote. Somebody has to fiddle with the plumbing. But, once the hardware is in, it takes care of the rest. Activate the main and you activate the tarantula hardware. It pulls in its programming in the same manner it sends the data out."

"Someone got access to the Hole?"

"No. I built this main. The tarantula is in a sealed unit that I only had to plug in. The seal wasn't broken until I just did. This altered chip was installed at the factory. As soon as I make sure the programming is clean I'll start tracing the part numbers."

"How long will it take to clean it?"

"I don't know. It's a tiny thing, basically just a search and find and really hard and very time consuming to find among the legitimate ones. I'll have to open the com and wait for them to ask it for something."

"What?!"

"Not to worry. I've cut its trans capabilities. All it can do is receive. When it does, it will stand out like cherry on a chocolate sundae."

"Do you have to cut the ships shielding to open the com?"

"Not for receiving. But I will to do the parts search."

"Then don't. The shielding has to stay in place until Jenna and I get back."

This got both Ben's and Jeeter's attention. Jeeter took over the conversation. The idea of Riddick and Jenna going off alone together didn't seem to set well with him.

"Back from where?"

"New Mecca."

"Why go there?"

"To use a hacker system. We need to find out what happen back on Derius 4 after we left."

Now Ben chimed in.

"You should take Jeeter with you. He's three times the hacker that Jen is."

Much to Jeeter's surprise, Riddick agreed to this idea immediately. His feelings outside of Syrus' infirmary were pushed aside but not forgotten. He needed time. A third person on the bridge of the BC, especially the suspicious little weasel/guardian angel, during the trip to and from New Mecca would insure that he got that time.