Hanging Onto Hope

Part 7

(Special thinks go to ixchup as go writer and beta.)

Time, it always about time. What time was it anyway? How much time had passed in this place? John shook his head at his total lack of data. He shivered with the sudden fierce piercing pain at the back of his neck. The damn Krethia was at it again. He frowned and slowly raised his hand and rubbed the sore spot, thus invoking another attack by the parasite that lived on his spine. He growled as he bore the invasion. He was so tired of pain and mind frells. God, he wished he could figure a way out of this mess.

He sat very still and pondered, seeking a memory of Zhaan to quiet his rapidly beating heart and racing pulse—to think without incurring another attack. How much time had passed since the Collector discovered his aborted escape plan? He really couldn't tell. All he could figure out was that he was being watched and that Marcella was gone. They must have drugged his food or the mist was increased to the point where it fogged his mind so badly that he couldn't remember the arns passing. He sighed in frustration and again felt the intense sudden agony of the Krethia as it touched a pain point. He was a goner, too. Going, going, gone. The Krethia squeezed again as John tried to move slowly from his seated position. He gasped at the sudden cramp in his legs and arms. Frelling thing! His anger burned deep inside at the Collector's control and his inability to break free. Not even Zhaan's memory could control his intense fury.

Again he beat himself up in his mind. He was so lost, frelled, screwed. All he felt was grayness and a constant tension. The worst part of his current depression was the haunting feeling that the Collector wasn't finished and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop the invasion of his family's safe harbor on Moya. What was it Marcella had said...be patient and help was coming. Frell, with his luck the "help" was already bought off. God how he hated critters. The Krethia made its presence known again with a jab at his stomach muscles. He gasped at the sudden cramping pain.

He panted as he continued his ruminations. Jeez, the only good thing about this constant stupid obedience school was that the mist was gone. His legs shivered as he raised himself to a standing position and staggered to the "window." He would play the sadistic game. Somehow he would contain his fear for Aeryn, Nyka, his shipmates and his anger at his situation. One day at a time...hell, one microt at a time.

The Collector stood at the observation booth and watched as the human strove to combat the Krethia's maneuvers. He loved watching his new possession fight with the parasite, He knew he had a growing weakness, an addiction, but he couldn't help his delight at how strong his Legend was and how much pain he could withstand without breaking. Oh, the human was close at the moment. Wait, look at the tension in its neck and determination in its eyes. Well, the Collector would combat this newfound strength. He had so many more ideas on how to continue tormenting the man. Ah, how he enjoyed this game. Yes, my Human Legend has brought me much grandeur ...yes, much prestige. His fellows Collectors were envious that he had procured such valuable commodity. He was now one of the wealthiest Collectors of all time. With his newest acquisition his status would rise even higher. The Collector clicked his mandibles in anticipation as he continued to gloat. Oh he would lord over the Collective when he possessed all of the legendary crew of Moya. He would be set above all other Collectors during or before his time. He would become a celebrity amongst his own people.

Hearing a diffident knock on the door, the Collector glanced in annoyance at the attendant who stood with its eyestalks cast downward. "Master," it announced, "The new purchase had been delivered." The Collector made a jubilant clicking sound as he left the room.

John Crichton hurt all over. There was not a single joint in his body that did not ache with the constant stabbing intrusions of his resident "instructor." He knew that somewhere the Collector was watching his battle. He had to get a grip on himself. One microt at a time, Johnny my boy, one microt. He looked around seeking a something to take his mind off of his troubles, thus lessening the constant education sessions.

Marcella had gone missing. He knew that he had noticed this earlier, but the time and memory seemed to float away. There, standing in the room was another alien. This one was also wider than it was tall and green as the Green Giant, but less friendly. He recalled vaguely asking the being earlier what the frell was happening, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to refresh his memory (since he couldn't recall the thing's name or why he was there instead of his big green keeper.) "Who are you and where is Marcella?"

The little man bowed, his eyes cast down, and stuttered, "Com---commander, as you remember I told you earlier, Marcella has entered re-education. I'm...I am called Met'Raphs. I serve you now."

After setting John's first meal up for him, Met'Raphs made brief eye contact with John before dropping his eyes back down.

John rolled slowly off his bed. Time to begin the second act of the game. He discovered earlier that if he moved suddenly the Krethia would react violently. John asked, "Got any news from outside this cage?"

"News?"

"Yeah, any new instructions on how to escape? Changes in the guard schedule. New security codes. You know, important stiff like that?"

Met'Raphs cautiously moved closer to where John sat at the table looking down at his meal. The little man whispered, "Marcella said to watch after you. Marcella said to say don't give up, time will come."

Expressionless John looked at the server. "Marcella told you this?"

"Yes," Met'Raphs said nodding his head. "Other says your freedom will come and have patience."

"Other?" John voice dropped in volume. "What other?"

Realizing his mistake Met'Raphs stepped backwards his hand covering his month in fear. Frantically the server shook his head. "I spoke out of turn. No other...no...no other."

"No, I clearly heard you say other," John stubbornly said.

Equally determined to redirect the subject, Met'Raphs replied. "The Collector is bringing you a gift. A...a special gift."

John studied the server and saw the fear radiating from him. Not wanting to push too hard if what the server said was true, John played along with him by asking. "What kind of gift?"

"A rare species. Vvv...very beautiful. She is called an..."

"Met'Raphs, what have I told you about chatting?" The hated voice said from the entranceway behind them.

The little man ducked his head and flinched away as the Collector came further into the room. John clamped down on his hatred; he wasn't about to give the Beast any pleasure in watching him fight with the Krethia.

"I see you are learning to obey the Krethia. That is good," the Collector purred. "I will reward you with a gift."

"I don't want anything you have to offer me," John murmured.

"Oh, but I do believe you will be pleased about this gift. Your Krethia is young and needs to understand what pleasures your species. A new recreational partner can help teach him and help relieve much of your tensions."

Uncontrollable fear and anguish burned through John as the image of Aeryn's capture formed in his mind. Gawd no! His heart screamed. Feeling the strong emotion the Krethia sent out sharp impulses of pain radiating up his spinal column. Grasping John held his breath trying to not cry out.

"Breathe. I do not have your mate at the moment, but will very, very soon. So breathe. I have something special until that time. See. Watch. You will like. Yes, you will," he purred.

The Collector stood aside as a guard pulled on a golden leash. Repulsed by the very idea that any creature would be treated so harshly, John would have turned away but for an eerie brightness that filled his room that caused his gaze to remain on the door.

John's breath caught in the back of his throat. The enslaved being literally radiated beauty and grace. Her golden-hued hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. John's eyes were caught but the shimmering of golden braided strands that glimmered as if lit by the sun. Her features were perfection, the nose straight and cheekbones finely boned. The soft golden-brown brows arched away from clear translucent oceanic blue eyes fringed with jet-black lashes. Their gazed locked onto his, open; yet as unfathomable as space itself. The soft pink lips were tantalizing and gracefully curved, vaguely smiling.

After a moment her eyes dropped to the floor and her cheeks flushed with warmth. Her hair fell forward and it was then that John saw her ears and the image of Elves and Fairies came to mind. The woman could have been Tolkien's Galadriel in Lord of the Rings. The brightness faded, and still John found he couldn't take his eyes from the enchantress.

The Collector made clicking sounds in his excitement. He smirked with self- importance as the sight confirmed that he truly knew how his human would react. He had paid dearly for her and now the cost was justifiable. Cheerfully the Collector released the woman and motioned for the others to leave.

"You must pleasure each other. Yes, yes, pleasure each other."

Leaving the Collector was rubbing his hands...claws together in delight.

Closing his eyes in anger John turned from the woman and glared at the now closed door. Once more the Krethia melted out punishment for his strong, violent emotions. Cursing under his breath John grabbed the edge of the table to keep upright as the painful contractions of his muscles—this time his entire back felt like it was engulfed in flames. Bowing his head he took deep breaths trying to make himself relax.

A microt later John felt the lightest of touches at the center of his back. A soothing warmth radiated from the center of the touch outward and the pain was gone. Raising his head he glanced at the Elf standing behind him. A soft tender gaze met his as she whispered in a low and honey-smooth voice, "To rule the devil you must first understand how to control your impulses."

Moving her hand ever so slightly John felt his muscles relax for the first time in days. Sighing with contentment he dropped his head back down not wanting it to stop. The touch was gone but the feeling remained. Standing up straight he turned and faced the elf woman again. "What are you called?"

"Keeta of the Eldronda."

She started walking slowly, completely, and deliberately around him, evaluating him like some kind of underprivileged species, or so it felt like to John. She stopped in front of him and said in hushed tones, "We have discovered the Collectors of this universe are annoying, repulsive creatures. I was sent here to help and protect you, John Crichton."

"Ah, yes," he chuckled derisively. "As I thought. Who do you work for Scarrans or Peacekeepers?"

Turning away John sat back at his table and looked down at his food, but his appetite was gone.

"I work for neither," she joined him at the table.

Sharply John turned his angry eyes to her. "Then you must be part of the stupid game the Collector likes to play. How can you, a prisoner, help me?"

Sitting gracefully across from him she laid a hand upon his arm in a tender caress. Her voice was low and husky. "Tonight in the darkness we must engage in recreation or the Collector will be suspicious. Let's not play unnecessarily with that Devil until it is time."

John stared at her in disbelief. "There is no way I'm going to...to make out with you. I'm very much in love with my wife."

"Yes, I know. Aeryn Sun," she said, as she stood up and moved to the window seat and gazed out into the courtyard. After a few microts of intense silence Keeta turned and again faced John and held out her hand to him. "Everything is not as it appears, John Crichton. Do you not recognize this?"

Dropping his eyes from her face to the object in her outstretched hand, his mouth dropped open in surprise. He said in a hoarse whisper, "Where did you get that?"

"I believe you got it from Arnessk and you gave it to your son Nyka to play with," she said, evading his question by turning the tile around in her fingers looking at each side. "Sebacean, Interion, Human—Egyptian—I believe you described it as the "Eye of Ra." You discovered a connection between the three species, but you and your shipmates are unsure how the connection could exist." She flipped the tile once more before looking up at John. "This symbol means peace is my people's ancient tongue."

"Your people? Are you saying Eldrondans are connected with Arnessk?" John's voice grew in volume.

Silently. Gracefully, she moved to John and ran her hand across his shoulders. In a soft voice she said, "Tonight in the shroud of darkness we can talk. For now the Collector can hear. Now he can see. Please be patient until tonight."

John leaned back in his chair and watched the Elf suspiciously. In his hand he held the child's tile understanding it had to be a message from Aeryn. Only he didn't know if she and the others had escaped from the Peacekeepers, or if it was simply a trap using something they knew he would recognize. Keeta was right; it wasn't safe to talk just yet. He shifted in his seat as the Krethia woke to make its presence known again.

Frell, could life get any more complicated than this? He laughed ironically to himself knowing that it always did.