Author's Note: You all flatter me too much! Thank you so much for all of the wonderful and thoughtful reviews so far. Keep 'em coming!
Chapter Eight
Riddick told him his theories, and Imam didn't take the news lightly. "All of these people- they're in danger!" he stood up sharply.
"We're in danger," Riddick emphasized, "We don't got nothing' to do with any one else. We take care of our selves."
"And leave every one else to die?" Surly Riddick could muster more compassion.
"That's the plan," he said, curling his lip up in a disdainful smirk.
"Riddick, they must be warned,"
"What are we gonna tell them? The truth? They wont buy it."
"They must."
Riddick nodded, "But they wont."
Imam jutted his jaw out. He was right, of course. An unexplained crash, a tattered band of displaced persons who appoint an escaped convict and mass murderer to lead them, a planet with a single inhabitant species that drives its self to the brink of extinction every chance it gets... people dead, all but three.
Imam dwelled on the last thought. It was suspicious looking, he realized. The only ones who made it were the killer, the religious leader, and the only little girl left by the initial crash (who was now masquerading as a boy for reasons unknown). The truth would get them no where they wanted to be. They would blame Riddick. They would say he killed every one, but couldn't bring himself to finishes off the last two. Even convicts had their codes. No men of God and no defenseless babes. That would be what they'd say.
"The truth-" he began, but choked on the words.
Riddick nodded again, "Won't set us free."
"What do we do?"
He crossed to the door and leaned against it, "Get Jack. Then run for it. Bust out. It's all we can do."
"Ms. Rhiannon won't let me see her," Imam confessed, "I don't even know where she was taken."
It was silent between them for a moment. Then, "I have a question," Riddick said, staring off into space, "Are we being tested?" Imam just looked at him, "In your professional opinion, what does God have to do with any of this?"
"He has his-"
"He has his ways and his reasons and his rights and his trials," he interrupted, "We've been through our crucible. We proved our selves, didn't we?"
"Proved our selves of what?" Imam brought it around on him. He would convince this man that God was good, even if it took him forever and back, some how he would do it. "Maybe we proved that we were worthy of the lesson he wishes to give us. Maybe it was the test before the trial. He only gives his messages to those who are strong enough to receive them. Now, through this next adversity, he may teach. Though, one lesson leads to the other at times. You cannot say that you did not change and grow through that perpetual night. You said your self that something in you died there, something better left in the dust and grit of that world.
"Do not through away all hope for a good god yet. He is here."
"If you say so," he bowed his head, "It's a fool who gets shit on by God and still can't see that he doesn't give a fuck."
Imam had no reply.
"Go on. Tell that Rhiannon that you're going to see the boy. Make sure she understands there will be consequences if she refuses." Threats, I'll give her threats. "When I break wide, be on your toes. You never know when I might get a little shiv happy and start bustin' open everything in my way."
When he was alone again he slammed his fist into the wall. "God," he addressed, looking up in mock prayer, "You're getting on my nerves."
As soon as Kali had dropped Imam off at Riddick's door she had gone to retrieve Jack for a little conference of her own. She figured the child would be more likely to open up and admit that Riddick had hurt them if the two men weren't around to breath down his neck. They sat in her office for the interview. She wanted to make sure Jack felt as comfortable as possible, so they sat together on the leather couch in the back corner that Kali usually reserved for all-nighters.
"So, Jack," she said conversationally, "Tell me about Johns."
"Johns?" She didn't act scared, or reluctant, or worried, or upset in the slightest, "He's my uncle," she said plainly.
"Mm- hmm. What's your mother's name?"
"Uh, Audry," she said the first thing that came to mind. She'd surprised herself, and sadly couldn't keep that hidden.
"Audry, hu?"
"Yep," she gave her a weak smile, "That's my mom."
"And what system are you from?"
She played dumb, "Well, the same one my uncle's from."
"And that would be..?"
She bit the inside of her bottom lip. Damn, this wasn't going to be easy. If she answered, chances were she'd get it wrong, and she couldn't refuse to reply. How about a diversion then?
"Miss, when can I see my uncle and Imam? You see, my grandpa's dying. Imam's his priest I guess, and he came to tell us that he has very little time left. My mom's all ready on Helion Prime with him. Uncle Lawrence and I would really like to see him one last time. He needs his family.
"We just came down here to relax a little before going into cryo-sleep. I don't like being in it, Uncle Lawrence knows, so he wanted to get it off my mind." She dropped her head to her hands and pleaded aridly, "I just wanna see my grandpa."
Ms. Rhiannon put her thumb nail between her teeth and gnawed it softly. It could be true. Was it possible that Riddick's father was dying, so he risked a confrontation with humanity to be with him? But the larva... The kid was jerking her chain.
"That was a good story," she said soothingly, "But you don't have to make up things to protect him."
Jack sat up, all fragments of distress shoved aside, "I don't need to protect him."
"Jack," she caught her gaze and held it, "What has Riddick done to you?"
The young girl scoffed and stood, burring her fists deep in her pockets. "What has he done to me?" She wandered a few steps away.
"Has he hurt you? Did he take you from your family? Has he forced you to do things you didn't want to? He's a bad man, Jack. He's killed people. What has he done to you?"
She pulled something out of her left pocket and held it in front of her, staring at it for a moment. Kali couldn't see what it was she had. Slowly, like a phantom out of a horror film, Jack turned. She placed a pair of ruined swimmer's goggles on her forehead and gently pulled them down over her eyes. "He made me," she said hollowly.
