Things you do not wish to...
An Alpha Centauri fan fiction by Shade
I say this only once before beginning. I don't own Alpha Centauri, I don't even think I want to. I intend no harm. Now that we're clear about this, let us begin...
This chapter has been modified to suit the rating. If you want to, I can post the original chapter under M rating. Let me know if you want to read the original chapter. Also, a review wouldn't hurt, would it? Tell me what you think! ...I enjoyed playing Alpha Centauri... tell me if you did too.
2) Hear.
With a week gone already and the preparations slowly progressing, Zakharov hadn't spent one single moment in peace. There were always assistants bothering him about something or other, and if it weren't the assistants, it were his friends calling to congratulate him. The professor became moodier and moodier by the minute. And with good reason.
He was constantly thinking of who to bring. He was not married, had no family anymore since his brother died in a terrorist attack. There was his niece, but she was not under his custody, not his to decide upon. His indecisiveness grew more and more as the others brought their family with them. The young boy that was with Deirdre a week ago was also on the base: she was bringing him along. He livened up the place by painting on the walls and breaking the occasional scientific object. He had managed to break half of Zakharov's supplies by now - luckily the professor had plenty. Only his sister's stuff was safe for his rampages.
A knock on his door awakened him. Zakharov looked up from whatever he had been pretending to read and looked on the screen that showed who it was. To his surprise, it was Garland.
"The door's open."
"Ah, here we have our most important scientist! It's been long since anyone has seen you except for dinner, Prokhor. What do you say to a drink?"
"I thought no alcohol was allowed on a military base anymore." Zakharov raised an eyebrow.
"It isn't. We're gonna paint the town. Widest selection of liquors you'll find on this planet, and maybe some lovely girls as well."
"I would fancy something stronger than this." Zakharov held up a bottle of gin and smiled. "I stole it from Morgan, he has plenty of this, though I think he has a problem. Drinking that much cannot..." He was disturbed by another knock on the door. Both men's eyes flashed to the screen, seeing Deirdre and her brother - the former looking thoroughly angry, the latter looking bored but anxious.
"Enter..."
"I'm sorry to disturb you, gentlemen, but Sean has come to say something... haven't you, Sean!" She pushed the boy towards Zakharov.
"Allright, allright! ...I'm sorry for breaking your supplies, professor." The boy sounded annoyed - Zakharov silently wondered with what Deirdre had threatened him to bring him here. "Now can I go?"
"Okay. ...I'm sorry, professor Zakharov, but he just won't learn. He'll stay off my and Corazon's stuff - he'd better, her stuff is volatile - but yours and Morgan's..."
"Has he apologised to Morgan too, then?" The captain raised an eyebrow.
"Of course not, Jay. Morgan deserves it." Zakharov had to chuckle at hearing that. He, too, thought the taller dark man unfit for the purpose they had assigned him. "Anyway, I'll leave you gentlemen to it. Oh, and thanks for the invitation, Jay, I'd be glad to. Professor, I hope to see you again soon. If only to stop the others from worrying about your sanity."
"I would if I didn't feel more... safe... in here, doctor Skye."
"Oh, no, call me Deirdre - please. A man of your fame..."
"Only if you will likewise call me Prokhor." Zakharov smiled: he was actually being flattered by a girl - scratch that, a woman - that assessed his academic achievements on the basis of her own status in the field. Deirdre noticed and smiled back, although a bit weak.
"Okay, if it will please you... Prokhor." And with that, she was out the door again.
"If you keep going on like that, people will seek more behind this...", the captain commented drily, but with a grin.
"I was merely being friendly", Zakharov defended himself.
It turned out everyone had been invited by captain Garland to go for a drink in the town: except for Miriam and Lal, everyone was there. The mood quickly became looser as the drinks eased everyone. At the earlier hours of the day, everyone went back with the help from the others. Zakharov had tasted vodka for the first time in weeks again, and he had enjoyed it. He had snuck a crate of it on board, but hadn't dared take a bottle in fear of betraying his supply of liquor to anyone - with all those eyes directed to him, he felt uneasy as it was. A chuckle escaped him when he saw the captain walk back with one arm wrapped around Santiago's waist and the other around Deirdre's shoulders. He walked a bit closer to them, to hear what they were talking about and to join the conversation.
"An' here comes our scientific wonder now!" Garland, though sounding extremely drunk, was nothing but dizzy - or so he said.
"Cheers to that!", Deirdre slurred. She had downed one gin after the other, but seemed to have a low tolerance level and was more drunk than anyone else. Santiago merely smiled as she extended her hand to Zakharov.
"Corazon, once academic misfit, now drunk and careless in the arms of my captain." That made Deirdre laugh.
"What does that make me?"
"Ha! I have him in my arms already, you're just trying to steal him."
"Nah, I need someone with more brains and less mouth." Deirdre had difficulties saying it, but the expression she had while saying it wasn't strained at all. She was dead serious.
"What about our professor? Two academic social border cases, you'll marry within a month." Garland smiled deviously at Zakharov, who suddenly didn't care anymore.
"In outer space, no one can hear you say 'I do', so it will have to wait forty years."
"S-spoilsport." Deirdre stuck out her tongue at him. "Oh, but the professor likes me, doesn't he?" Suddenly, Zakharov was unable to reply. She had caught him off guard, and he could only stare at her blankly as she continued. "I get to call him Prokhor, don't I? Lucky lucky me..."
"You're in trouble in the morning...", Garland whispered as Deirdre loosened herself from him and grabbed hold of the professor, hugging him for dear life.
"At least I will not be the only one...", replied Zakharov, as Santiago did the same with the captain.
Zakharov did not remember just how he had ended up in bed. He did remember bringing Deirdre to her room - he remembered it vividly, for she had refused to let go of him until he reasoned that her brother would be waiting for her - but everything else was a blur. Trying to remember it desperately, he closed his eyes while thinking of his tasks for the day.
Suddenly, a scream pierced the silence. Then, a loud 'thunk' sound could be heard.
Zakharov rushed out into the hall, putting on his lab coat over his pyjamas in his hurry to the origin of the noise.
He had been right, it was Deirdre's quarters.
"Get away from her!" It was Santiago's voice, and the next thing he knew, Morgan flew out of her quarters and landed face first. Santiago ran out after him, her hair dishevelled. "And stay out!"
"What did he do?" Zakharov saw the fury in the woman's eyes, plain as day: it had to be something serious, she wouldn't react that way if it wasn't.
"I think he put something in her drink. He was trying to..." She needed to speak no more: Zakharov knew in an instant what it was Morgan had tried to do. He closed in on the much taller man that was still sitting on the floor, wincing because of the rough treatment Corazon had given him.
"If you ever try to do that again - no, if you even look at Deirdre in a funny way, I will not only report you, but I will kill you. Rest assured of it." Zakharov spoke the words, yet heard them as if they were spoken by someone else - cold, threatening. They hung in the air as Morgan rose and scowled. He retreated wordlessly. Zakharov noticed Santiago smiling his way.
"She has been drugged, but I know what with, fortunately. I can prepare her something that will make the effects wear off - can you take care of her while I do this?" Without giving the scientist a chance to protest, she was off to her own quarters. Zakharov looked at the young woman in front of him and swallowed.She looked helpless and fragile.
"Go inside, Deirdre..." She obeyed him immediately and wordlessly: Zakharov had anticipated it. 'Morgan must have administered her a mild sedative, to make her docile and compliant...', Zakharov thought and shuddered at that very thought. He looked around him and, noticing that her quarters were similarly arranged as his, steered her towards the bathroom. "Take a shower, Deirdre, and knock on the door if you are ready. I'll come get you then." She did, and though he closed the door, Zakharov stayed next to it. Santiago returned just when Deirdre knocked.
"I'll go get her...", Zakharov said. He opened the door and stepped inside.
He could have known she wouldn't be dressed. Yet, the impact of seeing her stand before him in that bathroom, naked though clouded by steam and haze, made him curse and avert his eyes. He immediately ran out. "You go get her, Santiago, and take a nightgown with you!" He felt his cheeks burn with shame - no, there was no shame, it was something even worse. He felt attraction. He cursed again, mentally this time.
"Here she is..." Santiago gave her the drink she had prepared. "Sit down on the bed, Deirdre, and wait a bit. It'll work fast. Then she can sleep and try to forget about it."
Moments passed in silence - though twice Santiago tried to say something to Zakharov, and twice he told her to keep silent. Finally, Deirdre blinked and shook her head.
"W-what's...?"
"It was Morgan." Zakharov clenched his fists. He saw the expression on Deirdre's face change from shock to realisation to...
"NO!" The feral cry on Deirdre's part surprised him. She leapt to her feet and flung herself forward: he caught her just in time. She started to cry - she wailed, her shoulders jerking with every sob, her head buried against the professor's shoulder - and he felt something jump in his heart for the first time in a long time as he held her and comforted her for what seemed like hours, until she fell limp in his arms. He didn't need to look at Santiago to know that she had put a tranquilliser in the mixture as well: he just wordlessly put her in her bed and then walked out the door.
"Professor... please..." It was Santiago's voice. Zakharov turned around on the doorstep. "I know what you think of her. I know you care. Please, be gentle with her." He blinked. Shaking his head, he went back to his own quarters to think. She couldn't possibly know what he had felt there... could she?
Deirdre had her hands full with duties - and managing her younger brother. Not only had she taken care of procuring her supplies and asked her friends/co-workers to join her as her crew on the star ship, she had convinced her mother and father to let Sean come along for the mission. Her father had agreed first, but her mother was dreading the fact that she would lose her two most beloved children: in the end, she had said yes because of the news that 99 of all children would be unemployed in their adulthood. And so it came to pass that her brother was now terrorizing the others. Deirdre knew that he was applying some very personal graffiti art to the walls of the complex - though everyone told her it was refreshing. But what was much less appealing to hear was that he was breaking supplies of Zakharov. She didn't care how much stuff of Morgan's engineers he had broken already, but...
Zakharov was a bit of a loner, she thought as she looked at her inventory of genetic engineering supplies, who devoted all of his time to science and research. She was silently wondering who he would bring. A man of his age was probably married - she imagined him bringing one of those typical Russian women and snickered. Then she thought of the saying that a true scientist was only married to his work and smiled. She hadn't had any problems on that front, preferring her plants above the many men that had broken her heart already. Even though there were exceptions: Gareth, of her crew, and the captain for example. She thought about his invitation to go for a drink and decided to go and look for him to say that she would be joining him. Just as she walked out the door, she collided with someone on the corridor.
"Ouch! Will you watch... oh, Sean! What have you done this time?" Her brother had the kind of guilty look on his face that she had seen many times the past few days.
"That Russian guy's after me! Quick, let me in!" Deirdre's features darkened.
"Have you broken one of the professor's supplies again! This time, you won't just get away with it. You're coming with me to apologise!" She dragged her struggling brother down the hall to Zakharov's quarters and knocked on his door.
"Enter."
"I'm sorry to disturb you, gentlemen, but Sean has come to say something... haven't you, Sean!" Deirdre glared daggers at her brother, who shuffled forward annoyedly and spoke silently.
"Allright, allright! ...I'm sorry for breaking your supplies, professor." He didn't sound the least bit sorry, but Deirdre thought it was punishment enough to see the professor cast him an extremely severe look. "Now can I go?" She sighed.
"Okay. ...I'm sorry, professor Zakharov, but he just won't learn. He'll stay off my and Corazon's stuff - he'd better, her stuff is volatile - but yours and Morgan's..."
"Has he apologised to Morgan too, then?" She then noticed the captain standing next to Zakharov. A smile made its way onto her face, albeit a sceptical one.
"Of course not, Jay. Morgan deserves it." She had said it with a wry grin, and didn't expect any reaction - Zakharov's chuckle surprised her as well as catching her off guard. "Anyway, I'll leave you gentlemen to it. Oh, and thanks for the invitation, Jay, I'd be glad to. Professor," she said while turning to Zakharov with a smile, "I hope to see you again soon. If only to stop the others from worrying about your sanity."
"I would if I didn't feel more... safe... in here, doctor Skye." His voice was kind, unlike that of Morgan or Yang. She couldn't help but broaden her smile.
"Oh, no, call me Deirdre - please. A man of your fame..."
"Only if you will likewise call me Prokhor." She blinked: had the most intelligent man she was likely to meet in her entire life really asked her to call him by his first name?
"Okay, if it will please you... Prokhor." She went outside quickly, too astounded to believe it all. Was she really becoming friends with the smartest man since Einstein?
The moment the first sip of gin passed her lips, she knew she'd get drunk. It was a strange thing with her and liquor: she knew she couldn't stand it, but she found its taste much to her liking and she enjoyed the occasional drink. It reminded her of her not-so-distant student years. At the end of their outing, she was helped back to the base by Corazon and Jay. She was faintly aware of the hand the captain had put around her shoulders - not intimate but friendly, unlike the other hand that rested on her friend's hip. Zakharov joined them, she noticed from the corner of her eye.
"An' here comes our scientific wonder now!" The captain sounded very cheerful, and very much drunk. Deirdre snickered - she was long beyond sober herself.
"Cheers to that!" She faintly noticed her speech was slurred, but dismissed the thought immediately. Zakharov looked better after five or so gins. She smiled his way. Santiago extended her hand to the professor.
"Corazon, once academic misfit, now drunk and careless in the arms of my captain." Deirdre had to laugh again. She looked at her friend in mock indignity.
"What does that make me?"
"Ha! I have him in my arms already, you're just trying to steal him." Santiago even poked out her tongue at her, it was something Deirdre found cute. She shook her head.
"Nah, I need someone with more brains and less mouth." She tried her best to look serious and succeeded. With a firm nod of her head, she gave her statement force. Garland smiled deviously her way.
"What about our professor? Two academic social border cases, you'll marry within a month." Deirdre suddenly felt something wash over her temporarily. She had trouble placing it.
"In outer space, no one can hear you say 'I do', so it will have to wait forty years." Saved by the scientist. He didn't look too put off by the idea, though, but she suspected the alcohol to cloud her judgement.
"S-spoilsport." She poked out her tongue at him, which made him smile. "Oh, but the professor likes me, doesn't he? I get to call him Prokhor, don't I? Lucky lucky me..." She unhooked Jay's arm from her shoulders and walked over to said professor to grab hold of him. He was having a whispered conversation with the captain that Deirdre didn't bother to listen to: instead, she was enjoying the warmth of the alcohol and the fact that the professor didn't push her away. She silently wondered in a sober part of her brain why he didn't... and the next moment forgot all about it as she was helped to her room.
Morning brought a hangover. Deirdre woke too soon because of her brother: she grumpily sent him away before climbing into her bed again. Pondering on what had happened last night, she found her antics with John, Corazon and Prokhor clouded by a fog of liquor-use. She suddenly felt sick. What had she done? Had she embarrassed the professor? She had found it wonderful for him to loosen up like he had, but feared that she had driven him back into his brooding of the previous week. Before being able to think about it further, however, she was disturbed by a knock on the door. She put on a robe before looking who it was. To her surprise and disgust, it was Morgan.
"May I enter, Deirdre, I wish to talk to you!" He didn't sound angry or upset, but friendly. Deirdre carefully opened the door. He stepped in slowly. "I didn't get the chance to speak to you yesterday. You seemed a bit preoccupied by the captain and the professor."
"Well, yes, they did monopolize me a bit...", she said hesitantly. "What do you want to speak to me about?" She felt uneasy, standing in her robe and pyjamas in front of a man that was so obviously enjoying the sight.
"Oh, just this and that... Here, I brought you some juice." She looked at him incredulously as he poured her a glass. Could she trust him? She hesitantly took a sip: enjoying the slightly bitter taste of lemons, she drank the rest of the glass in one gulp. She looked at him.
"Well... thanks for the juice, but I really don't..." Suddenly, she felt dizzy. Putting a hand to her forehead, she took a few uneasy steps but had to return to her bed. Everything went hazy around her... she heard Santiago call out her name from afar...
She could make out Corazon's form, hitting Morgan, twice, three times - kicking him out... She saw Zakharov standing in the corridor, looking thoroughly shocked... he kindly put his hands on her shoulders - a different touch from Morgan's, much softer and kinder - as he pushed her into her room and then towards her bathroom... She felt her body automatically undress and step into the shower - taking a shower - drying her hair... she felt her hand knock on the door - heard the voices of Zakharov and Santiago... Zakharov came in to get her, but cursed as she stood naked and was unable to raise a hand to cover herself... moments later, Corazon came in, clothed her in another pyjamas and took her to her room again, sat her down on the bed and gave her a bitter concoction... Slowly, everything returned to normal and the outlines of Santiago and Zakharov became visible. Though Santiago was fully clothed, Zakharov wore only his pyjamas with his lab coat thrown hastily over them.
"W-what's...?", she started as she looked from Santiago to Zakharov and back.
"It was Morgan." Santiago's eyeswere sad and tear-filled- Zakharov looked furious. Slowly, Deirdre realised what Morgan had wanted to do.
"NO!", she cried out - feeling betrayed and soiled and unsafe and a million other things at once. She flung herself forward, desperate for escape - for something - and was caught by Zakharov. Again, she felt the kindness of his touch as he held her.
And she cried. She cried until her mind was empty, until her soul felt a bit better. Her eyes closed: she welcomed sleep. She felt safe falling asleep in the protection of her two new-found friends. And she welcomed the blissful black of unconsciousness.