2. Thin Blue Sky
Zemma woke up alone. Strange dreams floated just beyond conscious reach. She shook them off and called for time, forgetting this little ship didn't have scene walls. She looked at the unfamiliar watch, a going away present, instead.
Fuck. Late.
No time for rations for breakfast.
No loss.
When Riddick first proposed this trip, Zemma had only hesitated a moment. Cross the galaxy, see other worlds, meet the Basilica at Fury. Sounded interesting. The Furyans were going to take the 'back roads', Riddick explained, avoiding the systems where 'Monger ships might be met with resistance they could no longer withstand. They would build up to par-light after they took out the 'Monger resistance left on the support ships they had thus far ignored, then put almost everyone in cryo for the journey. It would take them two years internal time.
Much longer for those outside the time slip.
Plenty of time for Zemma to learn about the universe she'd missed so completely, while hurtling through it, holed up in her 'ivory tower'.
Those were Jack's words, 'ivory tower'. Jack told Zemma she was in for a few unpleasant surprises.
Like rations.
Jack, of course, had no intention of staying with the Furyans. She insisted she was only going to hitch a ride with Riddick and Zemma, but she didn't say where she intended to get off.
Zemma suspected Jack wouldn't.
She also suspected this 'field trip', as Riddick called it, had more to do with Jack, than with Zemma's education.
"You've never been anywhere. You might hate Fury and not even know why." Riddick was being reasonable.
"Just leave, you said, let's just leave this ship. You didn't give me anything else to go on." Zemma felt stubborn and cranky.
"Now I am."
Zemma had been cooped up in bed for a week. She felt better today, yesterday she hadn't even argued with him when he brought it up.
"I already said yes." Zemma tried to keep herself calm.
"Then why the fight?" Challenge voice.
Zemma sighed.
"I want to get out of bed, but not to march straight onto some frigate you prepared days ago without so much as a hint you were ready to leave."
"It's this ship, Zem."
Zemma shut her mouth; hearing her own thoughts echoed out loud by Riddick.
"It would do you good to take a little field trip." Riddick's voice was strange, the one she could never quite define.
Then there was that set to his shoulders and the fact he wouldn't look at her. Something else was lurking, some plan.
The plan, this morning, is to land, and get out.
Probably best on an empty stomach anyway.
Zemma had been surprised at their first meal away from the Basilica. It wasn't as bad as the food she had eaten as a child, but a far cry from what she had become used to.
Jack had been watching her closely, Riddick feigning interest in his dinner. Zemma was careful not to make a face, but she missed real food -and a few meals- after that.
Quit stalling.
Zemma was dressed and ready, standing at her door, looking for something like courage to hold onto.
Tiger, Tiger…
Not that.
Just go.
She did.
Jack was sitting at one of the back two pilot's chairs, Riddick in the main pilot's seat setting their trajectory. He glanced up when Zemma stepped up beside him. Jack, on the other hand, didn't bother to look up from cutting her nails.
"Sit," he commanded, and scooted quickly to the copilot's seat without missing a beat.
Zemma settled in quickly, staying in the Now, picking up where Riddick's hands left off the controls. She tried to match his pace while getting herself buckled in. He only watched.
No time to be self conscious, Zem. Just focus.
She settled down to her own pace, letting the knowledge move smoothly from head to hands. She knew this; Don had drilled her eight hours a day on the simulator in all different ships. She didn't need to be shown more than twice.
She felt the bite of atmosphere hit the ship. The simulator just kinda buzzed and tossed her around. This was different, more lively. This was better. She smiled, adjusting the controls to stay on the course Riddick had set.
As they came around the planet and hit sunrise, the screen darkened automatically. Zemma stayed focused on instruments while Riddick pulled down his goggles.
"You said this planet is settled?" Zemma asked him.
"Sparsely. It's tough to find a completely vacant habitable planet," he told her.
"Are we going to trade here?"
"No." And no reason why, of course.
The frigate had been stripped of the architecture, inside and out, that declared it in so few words to be of 'Monger origin. Riddick had also stripped the weaponry from it. Most planets frowned on armed ships, and Riddick preferred his battles up close and personal. He also had the skin of the ship burned, the brains burned out, and rewired to be functional, so it would pass as salvage. Then the rooms not needed for living were packed with more 'salvage' and trade items. They weren't 'rich', but wouldn't have to beg in the streets of any planet they came to.
They would be what Riddick called 'mercenary merchants' to the universe at large. Just under the radar, as Jack might have said. Small profit pirates. At first the idea had appealed to Zemma's imagination and sense of adventure, until the tedium settled in.
"You gonna fly through that?" Riddick asked as his course aimed them straight into heavy atmosphere. "This bird is heavier than the simulator settings."
Zemma looked at the approaching storm, her first, for just a moment longer before returning to the controls to adjust their course. The simulator may have been set to near perfect conditions before Don got to it. But Zemma had never practiced on those settings.
Don was as much a sadist as Riddick, in his own way. Riddick may have plotted straight through the storm to see what Zemma would do. She, however, had already been plotting two alternate courses in her head and adjusting them as she went, per Don's strict training. She picked the one that would get them closest to their destination, rather than the safest course, and furthest from the storm. Zemma wanted to feel it.
Riddick didn't comment on her choice, didn't offer any advice. From the corner of her eye Zemma could see him calmly watching everything at once. No doubt ready to jump in when Zemma got in trouble.
She wouldn't.
Zemma grinned to herself. She was really enjoying the experience. She even forgot Jack was nearby watching critically with a barb for any inadequacy. Fun was not a word she would have applied to anything in her previous life.
Zemma skirted the storm but didn't avoid it completely. Rain on the hull hit suddenly, Zemma compensated for the added weight. Lightning startled her only for a moment. Riddick winced but Zemma wanted to cheer or applaud or scream with delight. Scenes had never been so vivid or colorful. Zemma could feel the thunder through the hull.
"Enough sight seeing. Get back on track." Riddick sounded irritated. The lightning would be hell on him, even through the goggles, if his lenses were still up.
Zemma glanced over. Riddick had his hand up to his face.
Should have thought of that before you plotted me into a storm, she thought to herself.
As they broke through the clouds and approached Riddick's proposed landing site, Zemma was faced with blue sky and a seemingly endless horizon. Her stomach did a slow roll, but she was immediately busy switching on antigrav and dialing down the engines in preparation to land.
"You know most craft don't use antigrav to land," Riddick said dryly as they hovered over the site.
"Most runways are going to be a bit larger than this, though, right?" Zemma retorted.
The mountain meadow opened up panoramically on a long river valley with the evening sun at the far end. The storm had already passed here, leaving everything sparkling in the late afternoon light. But the grassy field was not much bigger than their frigate.
Zemma set it down as carefully as she could, but still there was a heavy, rocking bump.
"Hey!" Jack piped up. "You made me cut myself." She was examining the ends of her fingers critically.
Zemma didn't give her more than a brief glance before returning to the shut down routines. She was -not- looking out the front screen. Now that the fun (test) was over, apprehension was setting in. She had no witty remarks, no excuses. When she was done here she would have to go outside.
She glanced up, Riddick was watching her critically, she smiled calmly at him.
Tiger, Tiger…
That's not going to help.
Zemma stood to leave the pilot's area, still avoiding the front screen and it's vision. Jack was already unbuckled and gone. Riddick put a hand on Zemma's arm.
"You don't have to do this if you aren't ready."
Zemma kept her eyes on the dark passageway ahead of her. She didn't want to see concern or pity.
"I just need to get my cloak." She didn't mean for her voice to sound so sharp. She took a deep breath. "Instruments say it's cold out there." Her stomach was already in a tight knot, her hands felt cold and clammy.
Zemma stood alone in her cabin, cloak in hand, trembling. She suddenly wished she believed in God, any god, so she could pray for strength.
You know you won't really fly off into the sky. Riddick will be there.
She counted her heartbeats and concentrated on her breathing.
Put on your cloak and go!
She did.
Zemma could feel a change in the air just as she stepped into the passageway. The door outside was open already. They were waiting for her.
Tiger, Tiger…
Stop that!
She followed her nose to the bulkhead door. The air was cold and wet, smelling of something unidentifiable to her. She'd have to ask Riddick about it later.
She found him standing by the open door. Zemma stopped a few feet away.
"Sun's going down. You ready?"
Zemma nodded and pulled her hood up, limiting her view to the ground at her feet. She preceded him down the few steps and stopped at the bottom, clutching the single handrail. A cold sweat broke out over her body, seemed to wash up and down her skin in waves. She felt Riddick's step behind her and his hand on her shoulder.
"This way." His voice was calm.
She let him lead her from behind, as he brought his other hand to her shoulder, while she looked at her feet on the wet green ground. The grass squished a little from the rain; the sounds and the colors seemed too extreme. She felt a little off balance on the unstable surface, increasing her sense of giddiness. She wanted to giggle hysterically, but felt so nauseous she kept her jaw clamped shut. Riddick walked her to the front of the ticking, slowly cooling ship.
"Take your hood off and look." Calm, quiet voice again, nothing to resist against. Except her own fear.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Take it off and look.
Zemma felt Riddick's hands on her shoulders, massaging at the tension there, holding her down.
You won't fly off.
She tilted her head up and pushed back the fabric.
Open your eyes, girl.
Zemma did.
Blue sky. Sunlight. Rolling green hills.
Zemma felt her gorge rise. Nausea seemed to invade every limb in her body. Everything was too big, too far away. She couldn't breathe, her heart was pounding too hard against her chest to let her lungs work properly. Zemma began to tremble, she tried harder to breathe in, her face felt hot. Panic was getting a grip on her. The vastness before her seemed to pull away, her peripheral vision closing to a point somewhere before her.
Jack's voice invaded.
"What the hell you doin', Riddick?"
Riddick's voice, calm still, but far away now, everything was far away…
"She wants to live on Fury? She's gotta get used to…"
Jack's voice, very far away now…
"What the fuck! She's foamin' at the fuckin' mouth, Riddick, stop…"
Zemma went away.