THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS
Chapter 28 – Separate Thoughts
Jenna tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. She had tried her best to wear herself out in the gym but it hadn't worked. Jack, Ben and Mira had all given up first. Then, Mr. Sen had literally sent her to her room, with orders to 'get some rest', when she had tried to cajole him into taking their place. Now, she was fighting the sheets, trying to find comfort where there was none. In the last seven nights added together, she doubted that she had gotten the equivalent of one good night's rest. The bed was too big, too lonely, too cold without Riddick in it.
She couldn't understand how that was possible. She had spent her whole life sleeping alone. Just the opposite should have happened. She should have had trouble adjusting to having him in her bed – not have, in three short weeks, become dependent on it to be able to sleep peacefully. And, it wasn't just because of worry over the return of the mission to rescue Sissua being long overdue. She hadn't slept well from the beginning. She could lie to herself a thousand times a day telling herself that she could keep her bargain, could live easily with whatever choice Riddick made about their relationship, but a few moments in her empty bed made it all wasted effort.
This was not good. To need others, to be dependent on someone else's whim for emotional stability and comfort – that was such a dangerous and painful risk. Her parents' and little brother's deaths, unsuitable foster home after foster home, even the initial cold reception of those she now called ... what ... associates, yes ... friends ... perhaps, in the case of Syrus. Only Ben could even come close to being anything more and then only because of his deeper need for her. And that was the crux of it. To be needed was acceptable. To need was not. She had gone through a great deal of that pain before she had learned to protect herself from it. Could she allow herself to be anything other than that, other than sufficient unto herself?
She wouldn't like herself as some clingy, needful basket case and she was damn sure that Riddick wouldn't either. It was quite probably their individual self-sufficiency that had drawn them to each other in the first place. Could she find some intermediate state of wanting but not wanting too much? A compromise that wouldn't drive Riddick, the focus of that wanting, away from her? A compromise that wouldn't let the awful pain of before come rushing back?
As she thought about these new feelings, she realized that it was an even worse problem – that a great deal more was at risk. The basic purpose that she had always served was threatened. She was the group's caretaker, their balance. She couldn't be that if she let her own needs get in the way. But, ever since she had met Riddick that was exactly what she had been doing. She had thought of what she wanted rather than what was best for the group.
Even before, when it was nothing but his file, she had brought the anger of the Institute down on the group and caused the in-house split that was plaguing them now and had most probably caused the insertion of spy-ware in the main computer and the bay. Since becoming acquainted with the man in person, she had done even more. At his instigation, she had made decisions based on her desire for the ships, her desire for the freedom of space, for the euphoria of hyper; most of all her desire to continue the association with Riddick.
True, thus far, her personal desires and her duty had not come into any real conflict. The results of his employment and of the unauthorized detour to aid his people had actually been beneficial for the group. But, if she allowed this change in her to continue, that would not always be the case. What choice would she make then?
Damn Riddick for doing this to her! No! Damn herself for letting him!
Giving up the battle with the bedding, Jenna dragged herself into the kitchenette, punched up a cup of strong coffee with plenty of sugar and cream and began going over the situation with the rescue mission like a dog worrying a bone that had been worried to splinters already. Her own personal feeling aside, the only personnel loss that concerned the group was that of Syrus. The connection with MMM&P and with Rafferty's people could be maintained through his second-in-command and Jenna already had accomplished the introduction to hyper that had been the main purpose of Riddick's employment, at least as far as the group was concerned. Also, Mira had received sufficient training from Nagia to continue with the cultivation and preservation of the hydroponics gardens. However, though Jenna did have a certain amount of expertise as a physician, her talents were nowhere near Syrus' when it came to coping with primitive conditions in an emergency and quite inadequate for a colony situation.
The other possible loss, a crippling one, was the BC. How could she have been so stupid as to equip them with only one planet-landing-capable auxiliary ship?! But that problem was being dealt with. Jenna's first act had been to place orders with the original manufacturers of the BC, the skimmer and the hanger to provide duplicates. This, however, would take some time and did nothing to alleviate the current problem. They needed a second auxiliary ship now. No matter what the needs of the group, Jenna had been the one to order the rescue mission and she'd be damned if she was going to abandon any of them without some attempt at a retrieval.
Luckily, Jenna hadn't completely boxed herself in. The hanger wouldn't hold another ship the size of the BC but it would accommodate something close to three-quarters its size or two others; one approximately half as large that could be used for smaller transport, such as personal items from the apartments, and one much smaller that would be only for personnel transport and scouting with a cargo capacity limited to the skimmer. This second option was the direction that Jenna had chosen.
Three auxiliaries might be overkill but that was better than her original lack of foresight. Also, it was much more likely that they would be able to find such smaller ships than one the size of the BC. However, only one would be purchased at New Mecca. Jenna wanted to keep the hanger secret and it would look very suspicious for a freighter with only one docking lock to be purchasing two auxiliaries.
Jenna had decided to go for the small scout-ship. Since there would be no need to outfit it with hyper drive, it would require less modification to be brought into line with the Hole and the BC. Its purchase would cause less suspicion than that of a larger one. Also, the primary goal had to be the recovery of the BC even if they could not recover her crew. But, since Jenna would be the only pilot left if that were the situation, the new ship would need to fit into the bay of the BC for both to be brought back to the Hole.
Jack, Ben and Jeeter had been using all their bridge time hacking around to find something suitable on New Mecca and had several prospects located. The problem was they hadn't yet found a refurbishing yard or a parts supplier with the type of shady reputation necessary for the modifications that would make a new acquisition as useful as they needed it to be. Jenna was sucking on her third cup of coffee and fuming over this delay when the com- unit squawked at her.
"Lady, you awake, Lady?"
"Yes, Jeeter, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Lady. Things are finally going a little right. I've found just what we need and with most ah the extra stuff we wanted already on it. We'd only have to do the com work on it. Plus, it comes with a skimmer as part of the package. Price ain't bad either."
Jenna felt like screaming, dancing, pounding the walls – anything to express the relief, the joy. No more sitting around. Now she could do something.
"Get Jack to the bridge and have her plot an out system and return by a normal traffic lane and a berthing orbit for New Mecca. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Ah ... It ain't on New Mecca, Lady. We're gonna have to do a little hyper jump to pick it up. It shouldn't take more than twenty-four hours to do the deal and get back. He gave me the hyper track in and out. It's direct from here, no secondary jump, but it ain't one of the registered ones. And, he'll take all that Darius currency we got laying around as payment. The little it won't cover we can do with a few of the cheaper pieces ah G's loot.
Jenna began silently weighing the risks. Her silence must have worried Jeeter and he continued making explanations.
"... I'm sorry about this ... about us having to go out-system with him and Syrus still down there ... but it's ... Well damn, Lady, these New Meccans just ain't the kinda righteous low-lives we need to be dealing with. They're all for shady goods, smuggling and that, but nothing that's really gonna get 'em on the bad side ah the Patrol like weapons dealing. And you gotta admit that the kinda ship you want, equipped the way you want it, comes under that heading. That's why I started looking for this kinda deal.
"And it's a safe deal, a righteous one. I promise. It's someone I met while I was working for Tio and he owes me a little. 'Sides, we'll be doing him a favor. The ship's got a hoodoo on it for his regular customers and he ain't been able to find a buyer. That's why the price is so good."
Jenna's first reaction was disappointment. On second thought, though, it wasn't such a bad situation. It would require that she handle the sedation of everyone on board by herself and make her first solo hyper jump and return. However, they would have the ship they needed almost immediately and from a source that would ask no questions. Securing this type of information and contacts was the reason that she had gone into the dark alleys of Darius 4 looking for people like Riddick and Jeeter. It would be very foolish not to make use of it.
"Give Jack the tracks and have her start setting them into the nav console. Call Ben to the bridge as well. He needs to program and set a message buoy on the security frequency to tell Riddick what we are doing in case he does return while we are gone. Then have Ben make a list of anything we'll need but don't have in stock to modify the com equipment to match our own. Perhaps your friend can supply those as well. As soon as Ben has dropped the buoy, Jack should start moving us out-system, fast. I'll get the hypos ready and everyone else sedated. As soon as I get to the bridge, I'll sedate you, Jack and Ben and make the jump."
"You got it, Lady. Only ... make sure you got wake-up and return hyper hypos for me. I don't want you going in-system or trying to do this deal without me in the weapon's slot. The Hole's an awful tempting haul ... even for an old friend."
As Jenna prepared the hypos, she was very grateful to Syrus for his obsessive adherence to proper procedure. Jump and revival hypos for everyone were already preprogrammed. All she had to do was feed the list, sans Syrus, Riddick and Nagia, into the hypo-loader and wait for the filled capsules to pop out. Those collected, she ran the revival and second sedation for Jeeter as well as doing his precaution one better by adding Jack and Mira to that list. Then, as a precaution in case the return jump couldn't be made before the initial sedations expired, a second set of hyper hypos for every one else; not advised by the manual without revival and some awake time but perhaps necessary.
She made a short explanation to Mr. Sen but used a 'take-it-or-suffer' attitude with Sasha, David and Jeff. It wasn't long before she had them sleeping peacefully in their beds and she and Mira were stepping onto the bridge. As soon as she had Ben's list and had sedated him, Jenna ordered Jeeter to get four of the larger lethal stunners and belts to display them prominently as sidearms from the weapons pod. While he was doing this, Jenna explained the situation to Jack and Mira while she checked Jack's plots into the nav console and made a few refining adjustments. As soon as Jeeter returned, she passed out the weapons and sedated him, Jack and Mira.
It wasn't but a few minutes after she had returned to the command slot that she began to feel the change in the fabric of space that signaled the presence of the unregistered hyper gate. After several deep breaths and a prayer, she threw the Hole into the tube.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I. Don't. Talk. In. My. Sleep!"
The low growl reverberated off the thick stone walls of the dungeon cell. The equally deep but silkier tones that answered seemed to slither and caress the granite rather than assaulting it.
"Perhaps you are right. The mantra-like moaning of a single name does not constitute 'talking'. It is, however, just as annoying. It may be that it is even more annoying since it divulges no secrets to which I am not already privy and thus provides no entertainment."
"It's gonna be more annoying if I pound the shit out of you for waking me up."
"Oh, be still my heart. My prayers may have been answered. Do you think you could manage to inflict a fatal coma?"
"You'd enjoy that too much. How are your ribs?"
"The sacrifice of your shirt to bind them has alleviated the pain somewhat. However, I do not think that I will survive another session with that lout's boots. Though, I should think that our jailor being allowed to brutalize us may suggest that they have given up the foolish notion that either of us will reveal the location of the others. That would be a boon. I would rather be kicked to death than suffer the insult of another session with that untutored sadist that Sulleman employs as his interrogator."
"No such luck. You just pissed the little sycophant off with that running commentary on the sloppiness of his technique. You even had Sulleman chuckling behind his hand. You embarrassed him in front of the boss. That's why he let the goon have at us. Just where did you learn to be so damn vicious?"
"Studies in surgery are an excellent beginning in becoming an 'educated' sadist. But 'sycophant'? I must say that, for a mass murderer and scum of the universe, you have a surprising vocabulary when you choose to use it, Richard."
Riddick's attention snapped to alert status. The conversation had just been something to pass the time, maybe even give a little comfort to his snarky companion. As out of character as it was for Riddick, he had come to respect the dark man. If Riddick's bulk and spirit were made of unyielding pig iron, Syrus' deceptive lanky frame and well-camouflaged sense of honor were constructed of spun steel. Giving someone who was torturing you a critique of his methods was about the ballsy-ist thing that Riddick had ever witnessed. He had found that he appreciated the man as he would any fine blade. But, Syrus' revelation that he was aware of Riddick's true identity had just made that blade a possible threat. Riddick didn't insult the man's intelligence by attempting to deny the truth.
"When did you find out?"
"I knew from the first day we met. You had become of great interest to me long before that. Anything that could bring such passion to a child that had completely shut off her emotions was intriguing. That I have a great fondness for that child made studying you an imperative. Unlike her, I had no reason not to download the identifying factors in your file."
"I'll bet that meeting was a real shock."
"Only so far as the fact that the 'fates' or whatever had demonstrated they possessed the logic to bring the two of you together. They usually seem too capricious to make such proper matchings. I'm going to try to sleep now. Please, moan about her more quietly."
Riddick wasn't sure exactly what name to put to his reaction to that. Shock ... yeah, that pretty well covered it. Damn! The cold bastard had just turned Riddick's head inside out. Even as twisted and dark as the man was, Riddick couldn't get his mind around the fact that Syrus had just approved of a 'child', that he was 'fond of', taking Richard B. Riddick for her lover ... and possibly more. 'Matchings' – that sure as hell sounded like more.
Fuck! That wasn't something that Riddick wanted to think about right now. Especially right now, locked in Sulleman's dungeons with twice daily torture sessions that made it a good bet that he wasn't going to survive to even see Jenna again, much less do anything about that 'more'. And just what was that supposed to goddamn be anyway? 'Big Evil' didn't do 'more'. He fucked 'em until he got his fill and then disappeared.
Then that aggravating little voice, that had been getting louder and louder ever since T-2 and Carolyn, horned-in on the conversation. "Well, Big Evil, just how long do you think it's going to take you to get your fill of this one? Huh? You've already been with her more nights in a row than anyone since Beshue and you're just as hungry for her as when you started. What's more, even if you don't want to admit it, it ain't just your dick that's hot for her."
And that was the awful truth of it. Just like the first time, every night afterward he had stayed with Jenna, holding her close even after he had fallen asleep. Hell, some of those nights they hadn't even had sex, just held each other. That was something he had never done with anyone but Beshue. Now, according to Syrus, he was calling out for her in his sleep.
This was not good. This was fucking bad. The only way to stay safe on the run was to run alone. To do anything else was to risk being tracked, being caught – giving the mercs someone to use against him. Or ... leaving someone behind pissed enough to put them on his trail. He hated himself for thinking that Jenna might be capable of that. But others had been so why not her? Besides, it wasn't always the woman. Syrus or Ben would do something like that in a heartbeat if they decided that Riddick had hurt Jenna, had used her.
Ok, ok. He didn't want to leave Jenna behind right now. Hell, all he wanted to do was to get back to her. But what about later? He could count on one hand the number of people he had ever known that didn't have at least one break up in their history. Most of them had a lot more than one. And most of those breakups had left kids hanging onto the razor sharp shards that were left of one parent or the other and expected to hate the one that wasn't there. After enough of seeing that, he sometimes thought that he had gotten the better deal of it by not knowing who it was that didn't want him and being able to hate both of his unknown parents just because he wanted to.
That had been something he had talked over with Beshue. Not surprisingly, she had shared his pessimistic view of uncontrolled procreation. He had quite willingly followed her advice to get himself cut so he never had to worry about adding to that population of miserable kids, kids like he had been. But that was reversible. What if remaining with Jenna demanded that from him? She was so young and yet the way she took care of the others in the group, of Ben; she would be a wonderful mother, the kind every lost kid he had ever known would kill to have. But what kind of a father would he make? How long would they have to be together before he could take that chance? Would he ever be willing to take that chance?
Now this was really stupid! He was laying here worrying about kids when he didn't know if he was capable of sticking around at all.
He screamed back at the little voice, "You know that this would be a lot fucking easier to figure out if I knew what she wanted that 'more' to be. What kind of answer is 'What ever you want it to be.'? What kind of game is she playing with me?"
He really didn't want to think about this. But what else was there to think about? – the fucked up rescue attempt that had put him here? He felt like he had beaten that to death already. But ... he had to think of something else and he still hadn't figured out what, or rather who, had gone bad. Leaning back against the hard stone, doing his best to take the pressure off of the worst of his injuries, he forced the worst pain, his ache for Jenna, to the back of his mind and began searching his memories of events, since landing on New Mecca, once again.
Chapter 28 – Separate Thoughts
Jenna tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. She had tried her best to wear herself out in the gym but it hadn't worked. Jack, Ben and Mira had all given up first. Then, Mr. Sen had literally sent her to her room, with orders to 'get some rest', when she had tried to cajole him into taking their place. Now, she was fighting the sheets, trying to find comfort where there was none. In the last seven nights added together, she doubted that she had gotten the equivalent of one good night's rest. The bed was too big, too lonely, too cold without Riddick in it.
She couldn't understand how that was possible. She had spent her whole life sleeping alone. Just the opposite should have happened. She should have had trouble adjusting to having him in her bed – not have, in three short weeks, become dependent on it to be able to sleep peacefully. And, it wasn't just because of worry over the return of the mission to rescue Sissua being long overdue. She hadn't slept well from the beginning. She could lie to herself a thousand times a day telling herself that she could keep her bargain, could live easily with whatever choice Riddick made about their relationship, but a few moments in her empty bed made it all wasted effort.
This was not good. To need others, to be dependent on someone else's whim for emotional stability and comfort – that was such a dangerous and painful risk. Her parents' and little brother's deaths, unsuitable foster home after foster home, even the initial cold reception of those she now called ... what ... associates, yes ... friends ... perhaps, in the case of Syrus. Only Ben could even come close to being anything more and then only because of his deeper need for her. And that was the crux of it. To be needed was acceptable. To need was not. She had gone through a great deal of that pain before she had learned to protect herself from it. Could she allow herself to be anything other than that, other than sufficient unto herself?
She wouldn't like herself as some clingy, needful basket case and she was damn sure that Riddick wouldn't either. It was quite probably their individual self-sufficiency that had drawn them to each other in the first place. Could she find some intermediate state of wanting but not wanting too much? A compromise that wouldn't drive Riddick, the focus of that wanting, away from her? A compromise that wouldn't let the awful pain of before come rushing back?
As she thought about these new feelings, she realized that it was an even worse problem – that a great deal more was at risk. The basic purpose that she had always served was threatened. She was the group's caretaker, their balance. She couldn't be that if she let her own needs get in the way. But, ever since she had met Riddick that was exactly what she had been doing. She had thought of what she wanted rather than what was best for the group.
Even before, when it was nothing but his file, she had brought the anger of the Institute down on the group and caused the in-house split that was plaguing them now and had most probably caused the insertion of spy-ware in the main computer and the bay. Since becoming acquainted with the man in person, she had done even more. At his instigation, she had made decisions based on her desire for the ships, her desire for the freedom of space, for the euphoria of hyper; most of all her desire to continue the association with Riddick.
True, thus far, her personal desires and her duty had not come into any real conflict. The results of his employment and of the unauthorized detour to aid his people had actually been beneficial for the group. But, if she allowed this change in her to continue, that would not always be the case. What choice would she make then?
Damn Riddick for doing this to her! No! Damn herself for letting him!
Giving up the battle with the bedding, Jenna dragged herself into the kitchenette, punched up a cup of strong coffee with plenty of sugar and cream and began going over the situation with the rescue mission like a dog worrying a bone that had been worried to splinters already. Her own personal feeling aside, the only personnel loss that concerned the group was that of Syrus. The connection with MMM&P and with Rafferty's people could be maintained through his second-in-command and Jenna already had accomplished the introduction to hyper that had been the main purpose of Riddick's employment, at least as far as the group was concerned. Also, Mira had received sufficient training from Nagia to continue with the cultivation and preservation of the hydroponics gardens. However, though Jenna did have a certain amount of expertise as a physician, her talents were nowhere near Syrus' when it came to coping with primitive conditions in an emergency and quite inadequate for a colony situation.
The other possible loss, a crippling one, was the BC. How could she have been so stupid as to equip them with only one planet-landing-capable auxiliary ship?! But that problem was being dealt with. Jenna's first act had been to place orders with the original manufacturers of the BC, the skimmer and the hanger to provide duplicates. This, however, would take some time and did nothing to alleviate the current problem. They needed a second auxiliary ship now. No matter what the needs of the group, Jenna had been the one to order the rescue mission and she'd be damned if she was going to abandon any of them without some attempt at a retrieval.
Luckily, Jenna hadn't completely boxed herself in. The hanger wouldn't hold another ship the size of the BC but it would accommodate something close to three-quarters its size or two others; one approximately half as large that could be used for smaller transport, such as personal items from the apartments, and one much smaller that would be only for personnel transport and scouting with a cargo capacity limited to the skimmer. This second option was the direction that Jenna had chosen.
Three auxiliaries might be overkill but that was better than her original lack of foresight. Also, it was much more likely that they would be able to find such smaller ships than one the size of the BC. However, only one would be purchased at New Mecca. Jenna wanted to keep the hanger secret and it would look very suspicious for a freighter with only one docking lock to be purchasing two auxiliaries.
Jenna had decided to go for the small scout-ship. Since there would be no need to outfit it with hyper drive, it would require less modification to be brought into line with the Hole and the BC. Its purchase would cause less suspicion than that of a larger one. Also, the primary goal had to be the recovery of the BC even if they could not recover her crew. But, since Jenna would be the only pilot left if that were the situation, the new ship would need to fit into the bay of the BC for both to be brought back to the Hole.
Jack, Ben and Jeeter had been using all their bridge time hacking around to find something suitable on New Mecca and had several prospects located. The problem was they hadn't yet found a refurbishing yard or a parts supplier with the type of shady reputation necessary for the modifications that would make a new acquisition as useful as they needed it to be. Jenna was sucking on her third cup of coffee and fuming over this delay when the com- unit squawked at her.
"Lady, you awake, Lady?"
"Yes, Jeeter, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Lady. Things are finally going a little right. I've found just what we need and with most ah the extra stuff we wanted already on it. We'd only have to do the com work on it. Plus, it comes with a skimmer as part of the package. Price ain't bad either."
Jenna felt like screaming, dancing, pounding the walls – anything to express the relief, the joy. No more sitting around. Now she could do something.
"Get Jack to the bridge and have her plot an out system and return by a normal traffic lane and a berthing orbit for New Mecca. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Ah ... It ain't on New Mecca, Lady. We're gonna have to do a little hyper jump to pick it up. It shouldn't take more than twenty-four hours to do the deal and get back. He gave me the hyper track in and out. It's direct from here, no secondary jump, but it ain't one of the registered ones. And, he'll take all that Darius currency we got laying around as payment. The little it won't cover we can do with a few of the cheaper pieces ah G's loot.
Jenna began silently weighing the risks. Her silence must have worried Jeeter and he continued making explanations.
"... I'm sorry about this ... about us having to go out-system with him and Syrus still down there ... but it's ... Well damn, Lady, these New Meccans just ain't the kinda righteous low-lives we need to be dealing with. They're all for shady goods, smuggling and that, but nothing that's really gonna get 'em on the bad side ah the Patrol like weapons dealing. And you gotta admit that the kinda ship you want, equipped the way you want it, comes under that heading. That's why I started looking for this kinda deal.
"And it's a safe deal, a righteous one. I promise. It's someone I met while I was working for Tio and he owes me a little. 'Sides, we'll be doing him a favor. The ship's got a hoodoo on it for his regular customers and he ain't been able to find a buyer. That's why the price is so good."
Jenna's first reaction was disappointment. On second thought, though, it wasn't such a bad situation. It would require that she handle the sedation of everyone on board by herself and make her first solo hyper jump and return. However, they would have the ship they needed almost immediately and from a source that would ask no questions. Securing this type of information and contacts was the reason that she had gone into the dark alleys of Darius 4 looking for people like Riddick and Jeeter. It would be very foolish not to make use of it.
"Give Jack the tracks and have her start setting them into the nav console. Call Ben to the bridge as well. He needs to program and set a message buoy on the security frequency to tell Riddick what we are doing in case he does return while we are gone. Then have Ben make a list of anything we'll need but don't have in stock to modify the com equipment to match our own. Perhaps your friend can supply those as well. As soon as Ben has dropped the buoy, Jack should start moving us out-system, fast. I'll get the hypos ready and everyone else sedated. As soon as I get to the bridge, I'll sedate you, Jack and Ben and make the jump."
"You got it, Lady. Only ... make sure you got wake-up and return hyper hypos for me. I don't want you going in-system or trying to do this deal without me in the weapon's slot. The Hole's an awful tempting haul ... even for an old friend."
As Jenna prepared the hypos, she was very grateful to Syrus for his obsessive adherence to proper procedure. Jump and revival hypos for everyone were already preprogrammed. All she had to do was feed the list, sans Syrus, Riddick and Nagia, into the hypo-loader and wait for the filled capsules to pop out. Those collected, she ran the revival and second sedation for Jeeter as well as doing his precaution one better by adding Jack and Mira to that list. Then, as a precaution in case the return jump couldn't be made before the initial sedations expired, a second set of hyper hypos for every one else; not advised by the manual without revival and some awake time but perhaps necessary.
She made a short explanation to Mr. Sen but used a 'take-it-or-suffer' attitude with Sasha, David and Jeff. It wasn't long before she had them sleeping peacefully in their beds and she and Mira were stepping onto the bridge. As soon as she had Ben's list and had sedated him, Jenna ordered Jeeter to get four of the larger lethal stunners and belts to display them prominently as sidearms from the weapons pod. While he was doing this, Jenna explained the situation to Jack and Mira while she checked Jack's plots into the nav console and made a few refining adjustments. As soon as Jeeter returned, she passed out the weapons and sedated him, Jack and Mira.
It wasn't but a few minutes after she had returned to the command slot that she began to feel the change in the fabric of space that signaled the presence of the unregistered hyper gate. After several deep breaths and a prayer, she threw the Hole into the tube.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I. Don't. Talk. In. My. Sleep!"
The low growl reverberated off the thick stone walls of the dungeon cell. The equally deep but silkier tones that answered seemed to slither and caress the granite rather than assaulting it.
"Perhaps you are right. The mantra-like moaning of a single name does not constitute 'talking'. It is, however, just as annoying. It may be that it is even more annoying since it divulges no secrets to which I am not already privy and thus provides no entertainment."
"It's gonna be more annoying if I pound the shit out of you for waking me up."
"Oh, be still my heart. My prayers may have been answered. Do you think you could manage to inflict a fatal coma?"
"You'd enjoy that too much. How are your ribs?"
"The sacrifice of your shirt to bind them has alleviated the pain somewhat. However, I do not think that I will survive another session with that lout's boots. Though, I should think that our jailor being allowed to brutalize us may suggest that they have given up the foolish notion that either of us will reveal the location of the others. That would be a boon. I would rather be kicked to death than suffer the insult of another session with that untutored sadist that Sulleman employs as his interrogator."
"No such luck. You just pissed the little sycophant off with that running commentary on the sloppiness of his technique. You even had Sulleman chuckling behind his hand. You embarrassed him in front of the boss. That's why he let the goon have at us. Just where did you learn to be so damn vicious?"
"Studies in surgery are an excellent beginning in becoming an 'educated' sadist. But 'sycophant'? I must say that, for a mass murderer and scum of the universe, you have a surprising vocabulary when you choose to use it, Richard."
Riddick's attention snapped to alert status. The conversation had just been something to pass the time, maybe even give a little comfort to his snarky companion. As out of character as it was for Riddick, he had come to respect the dark man. If Riddick's bulk and spirit were made of unyielding pig iron, Syrus' deceptive lanky frame and well-camouflaged sense of honor were constructed of spun steel. Giving someone who was torturing you a critique of his methods was about the ballsy-ist thing that Riddick had ever witnessed. He had found that he appreciated the man as he would any fine blade. But, Syrus' revelation that he was aware of Riddick's true identity had just made that blade a possible threat. Riddick didn't insult the man's intelligence by attempting to deny the truth.
"When did you find out?"
"I knew from the first day we met. You had become of great interest to me long before that. Anything that could bring such passion to a child that had completely shut off her emotions was intriguing. That I have a great fondness for that child made studying you an imperative. Unlike her, I had no reason not to download the identifying factors in your file."
"I'll bet that meeting was a real shock."
"Only so far as the fact that the 'fates' or whatever had demonstrated they possessed the logic to bring the two of you together. They usually seem too capricious to make such proper matchings. I'm going to try to sleep now. Please, moan about her more quietly."
Riddick wasn't sure exactly what name to put to his reaction to that. Shock ... yeah, that pretty well covered it. Damn! The cold bastard had just turned Riddick's head inside out. Even as twisted and dark as the man was, Riddick couldn't get his mind around the fact that Syrus had just approved of a 'child', that he was 'fond of', taking Richard B. Riddick for her lover ... and possibly more. 'Matchings' – that sure as hell sounded like more.
Fuck! That wasn't something that Riddick wanted to think about right now. Especially right now, locked in Sulleman's dungeons with twice daily torture sessions that made it a good bet that he wasn't going to survive to even see Jenna again, much less do anything about that 'more'. And just what was that supposed to goddamn be anyway? 'Big Evil' didn't do 'more'. He fucked 'em until he got his fill and then disappeared.
Then that aggravating little voice, that had been getting louder and louder ever since T-2 and Carolyn, horned-in on the conversation. "Well, Big Evil, just how long do you think it's going to take you to get your fill of this one? Huh? You've already been with her more nights in a row than anyone since Beshue and you're just as hungry for her as when you started. What's more, even if you don't want to admit it, it ain't just your dick that's hot for her."
And that was the awful truth of it. Just like the first time, every night afterward he had stayed with Jenna, holding her close even after he had fallen asleep. Hell, some of those nights they hadn't even had sex, just held each other. That was something he had never done with anyone but Beshue. Now, according to Syrus, he was calling out for her in his sleep.
This was not good. This was fucking bad. The only way to stay safe on the run was to run alone. To do anything else was to risk being tracked, being caught – giving the mercs someone to use against him. Or ... leaving someone behind pissed enough to put them on his trail. He hated himself for thinking that Jenna might be capable of that. But others had been so why not her? Besides, it wasn't always the woman. Syrus or Ben would do something like that in a heartbeat if they decided that Riddick had hurt Jenna, had used her.
Ok, ok. He didn't want to leave Jenna behind right now. Hell, all he wanted to do was to get back to her. But what about later? He could count on one hand the number of people he had ever known that didn't have at least one break up in their history. Most of them had a lot more than one. And most of those breakups had left kids hanging onto the razor sharp shards that were left of one parent or the other and expected to hate the one that wasn't there. After enough of seeing that, he sometimes thought that he had gotten the better deal of it by not knowing who it was that didn't want him and being able to hate both of his unknown parents just because he wanted to.
That had been something he had talked over with Beshue. Not surprisingly, she had shared his pessimistic view of uncontrolled procreation. He had quite willingly followed her advice to get himself cut so he never had to worry about adding to that population of miserable kids, kids like he had been. But that was reversible. What if remaining with Jenna demanded that from him? She was so young and yet the way she took care of the others in the group, of Ben; she would be a wonderful mother, the kind every lost kid he had ever known would kill to have. But what kind of a father would he make? How long would they have to be together before he could take that chance? Would he ever be willing to take that chance?
Now this was really stupid! He was laying here worrying about kids when he didn't know if he was capable of sticking around at all.
He screamed back at the little voice, "You know that this would be a lot fucking easier to figure out if I knew what she wanted that 'more' to be. What kind of answer is 'What ever you want it to be.'? What kind of game is she playing with me?"
He really didn't want to think about this. But what else was there to think about? – the fucked up rescue attempt that had put him here? He felt like he had beaten that to death already. But ... he had to think of something else and he still hadn't figured out what, or rather who, had gone bad. Leaning back against the hard stone, doing his best to take the pressure off of the worst of his injuries, he forced the worst pain, his ache for Jenna, to the back of his mind and began searching his memories of events, since landing on New Mecca, once again.
