Author's note: Just to clarify, Riddick told the man on the radio that Jack was his sister's son. As for whether or not he acctualy has a sister, I don't know. That may be a secret he'll take with him to the grave...
Chapter Four
With in a half an hour they were free to go. There was only one problem- Riddick's boots weren't free to go with them. Just as the automatic doors slid accommodatingly open in front of the trio, "Excuse me, sir!" called one of the washed out lab rats. Riddick turned stiffly, ever so slightly. "Excuse me," the man ran up beside him, "I need your shoes." Riddick just stared at him. The man felt the need to point, as if he were talking to a neanderthal, "Your boots."
Imam tensed. To him, Riddick was unpredictable.
"Sir?"
Riddick calmly pivoted, walked unconcernedly to the ship, threw each foot up on the ramp in succession, undid the laces on both boots, then yanked them off. With each in hand, he took one and scraped it thoroughly on the skiff's hull. Though he did not appear perturbed, a threatening power rippled through his arm as he moved it with measure. The action was poignant, yet leisurely. It mirrored the manor with which he sharpened his blades. When both were finished, maggot-gut free, he slammed his feet back into them.
He returned to the exact spot he had been when the man first stopped him. "I'm clean," he said, lifting the corner of his mouth ever so slightly.
The man was speechless. He clutched his clip board to his chest in wonderment, and gazed helplessly after the big man as he shepherded the other two out of the hanger.
"We need to go to her office," Imam insisted. Riddick's hand guiding him from the small of his back made him exceedingly uncomfortable.
"Stay the course," he whispered menacingly. Not to his surprise, they passed few people, and none of them relinquished so much as a nod.
Unlike Imam, Jack was relishing the feel of Riddick's protective grasp on her shoulder. She trusted him implicitly. If the game of life were played on teams, she felt like she was on the sure-fire winner, with Riddick hammering it home.
Riddick was getting the hell out of there. If no one was going to pursue them to make sure they found their way to the woman's office, he wasn't going to try and find it. Now that they were rid of all of the cursed favors from the dark planet, he was going to keep it that way. He'd find them another ship, a real one, with a certified and preassembled drive. Lifting one from a state sponsored employee would be simple enough.
He took a moment to examine how his left and his right contrasted with their charges. On his right, he had to push, not hard, but enough to let the holy man know that business was business. His left was easy going. She walked steadily, quickly, as if it where she who was leading. He also noticed how she responded to every inflection of his hand. If his grip tightened minimally, she slowed, if his touch backed off, she went forward freely. Experimentally, he sent her forward with a slight push, and let go all together. She tilted her head and smiled, still walking confidently along.
For some reason, it was at that moment that it truly hit him. She wasn't in awe because she was afraid: she wasn't afraid because she was in awe. That was a notion he'd never encountered before. Her infatuation shielded her.
As Riddick pulled out of his contemplation, they rounded a corner, and narrowly avoided running smack-dab into the frizzy locked woman. She had been bent over a folder, only using her peripheral vision to watch where she was going. Now, here they were, suddenly face to face. She peered around them suspiciously, but didn't dwell on their lack of accompaniment. Tucking the folder under her arm, she motioned for them to follow her. She didn't smile.
Riddick sniffed softly, minimally annoyed, and complied. Less than four strides found him at her office door. Ushering them inside, she flicked the latch behind them, then informally offered them each a chair. She moved behind her desk and sat. Facing them, she grasped her hands in front of her expectantly.
Imam tried to play the diplomat. Offering his hand, he introduced himself, then started off with some incidental conversation. "What industry does this planet cater to?"
"Research," she said, quick to the point, "And experimentation. Geological and biological. That is why we allowed you to alight here in the first place. If we were any other planet, you most likely would have been turned away. I'm sure you are not unaware that alien infestations are a major inter-galactic concern. They present a danger to ecosystems, economies, and individual persons.
"I am Kali Rhiannon, Secretary of Interplanetary Life Form Regulations here on Aliquis. It is customary for infestation cases to go through me. However, I am particularly interested in yours," she slapped the folder down in front of her and pushed it across to with in Imam's reach. He opened it, not knowing what to expect. He was confronted with a chart. It portrayed what appeared to be heat readings. "Look at the spikes and the pit falls," she leaned closer, pointing with a manicured finger nail, "These three thirty-sevens are you. Clean and clear. But over here, the chart gets confusing. The needles smear together. It's as if they were trying to report hot and cold at the same time, coming from the same object, in the same place. There are twenty five of these strange blips. This is a thermal life scanner. It knows the difference between life, death, and inanimate objects. These readings are contradictory. The machine insisted that these creatures are both alive, and beyond living. I've never seen anything like it."
Imam didn't know what to say. She took the folder back, "I need to know where each of you and your craft have been in the past six months. Before you answer, you should be aware of your options. One, you provide a full list and stay as guests until we locate the planet these animals originated from. Two, you are anything but acquiescent and stay as political detainies until we ferret out the same."
Riddick normally wouldn't be inclined to voice an opinion on such an ultimatum. Then again, he normally wasn't inclined to sit through such superfluous crap. He'd expect such a shallow threat from a merc, but not a planetary official. "Hospitality not part of the 'drill'?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Not in this instant, officer."
Sloppy, Johns, Riddick tutted in his mind, Didn't even bother to dust your tracks properly. Should have expected such low standards from you. Chase me all over the friggin' universe, but wont stop to build up a few safe guards. How did you ever make it? He grinned behind his goggles, That's right, you didn't.
So this was the game: Ms. Rhiannon would keep his falsifications under wraps as long as (or at least, until) she got what she wanted.
Settling back, she said, "Now is the time for choice."
Riddick shrugged and rumbled softly, "I'm all ready DETAINED."
