39. Hypatia
The planet was a dirtball. Probably one of the richest dirtballs in the galaxy, but you wouldn't know it to look at it. It was a mining planet, dotted with shantytowns and its captive population looked as brown and dirty as the buildings. Slavery was outlawed in most systems, but indentured servitude was still common. It amounted to the same thing here.
Compounding the issue was two minimum-security prisons, minimum because there was nowhere to run to and frankly, quality of life was better in the slam than out. No one bothered to escape.
Imports were welcome, but there was nothing to export except rocks. Ore was processed and offloaded by the mining companies themselves. The only cargo not allowed to leave the planet was human… well, not officially.
The spaceport was just a strip of ground cleared of the largest boulders and surrounded by an 'invisible' fence. Buried in the ground was a cable that set off an alarm if any prisoner, or indentured member of the population for that matter, crossed the line. The chip responsible was injected under the skin, and moved randomly around the body via nanos. It was said it contained explosives that could be remotely triggered.
Stories abounded graphically detailing the demise of those who crossed the line. No one bothered to find out if they were true any more. Apathy had long set in. Even the guards had become bored, not even bothering to examine 'D.B. Cooper's' cargo of illegal still works. Riddick had only to offload it himself, with the equipment provided.
They were encouraged to stay and spend their profits. It wasn't an appealing offer.
They ended up staying anyway.
Jack was gone.
Zemma spent the evenings standing at the gangway doorframe, staring out at the bleak landscape under a sky of stars so clear they might still have been in space. The grand vista shook Zem to her bones, but it didn't stop her from trying to get over her fear. Every night she tried to step a little further out the door. Every little inch forward just reminded her of how useless she was in finding her friend and bringing her home.
Don continued to work on the cannons. Riddick had not tried to enforce his decree, but he wouldn't speak to Don. On the other hand, he wasn't speaking much to Zemma either. He spent most of his day and half the nights moving like a ghost from town to town.
Near dawn on the fourth day Don woke the couple with a call on the comms. Another ship was landing. It was a yacht.
The three stood silently on the piloting deck and watched for any sign of the occupant of the slowly cooling little sloop. Both men had whistled at the model, noting it was something in a price range beyond most governments.
"Maybe it belongs to one of the mining companies?" Zemma inquired hopefully.
No one spoke of the possibility that the ship might actually contain Jack's mysterious benefactress, Hypatia.
The guard came, and went, and no cargo was offloaded. No one emerged from the ship. At dawn, Riddick left the vigil to make his rounds. Zemma made tea and returned to the bridge to find Don still there, but not watching passively. He was actively trying to get into the other ship's computers through the planet's satellite system. She handed him tea.
"Anything?"
"The satellite had no firewalls to speak of. The sysop must be as lax as the rest of them here. But I can't even get a ping back from that little ferry." He seemed only mildly annoyed. The challenge was, at least, not boring.
"She must be as good as Jack thought then, huh? To afford that, and to foil you." The last was said with a fond smirk. She laid a forgiving hand on his shoulder.
Don glanced up, features set in stone, searched her face penetratingly for a moment. Zemma chanced a small smile. He didn't return it but he patted her hand softly, dismissively.
"It's not your fault, Don."
"I knew she was fragile. I knew what she was capable of. I shouldn't have…gotten so angry with her."
"She makes us all want to kick her in the head, Don. I don't think it's better to coddle her. She needs to know where the boundaries are." They'd had this conversation every morning now. "Riddick will find her. We'll get her back."
"I'll never get her back, though." For such a heartbreaking sentiment, his voice still sounded tough as nails. The juxtaposition made Zemma smile, and determined to kick the girl twice.
'Min Deinen,' he'd called Jack. He'd asked Jack to be his goddaughter… and the foolish girl had tried to seduce him. It still made Zemma furious. The girl had no sense of family, and that was understandable, but certainly she had to have seen…
Three seconds were up. Zemma really couldn't stay mad much longer than that, and keep her sanity. Jack just didn't know any better… didn't understand family relationships, or love, or friendship.
"She…"
"…didn't know any better. I know. I know." Don finished churlishly.
Zemma didn't take offense to his rude tone of voice; she knew he was only angry with himself.
"I got something…" Don didn't sound excited, but wary. His next words proved him out. "Bitch tried to bounce back a virus." He was tapping speedily at the keyboard. "Mmm. Clever girl… she used that to get a peek at US!"
He became entirely engrossed with the code flying over the screen. Zemma watched in fascination. She understood most of what she was seeing, but realized that it was more like a chess game than the stagnant system she'd learned to circumvent. Things were entirely different when someone on the other side of the screen was fighting back. Zemma watched Don initiate programs she hadn't seen before, and didn't think existed before their last stop. He'd been busier these last two weeks than she knew. Did the man ever sleep?
Zemma realized Jack was good for him too. She gave him some down time.
Don suddenly jumped up from his chair to move to another console. The code on the screen he'd abandon continued running on its own. He'd set up some kind of loop or randomizer. He chuckled softly to himself as he started anew on the other keyboard.
Zemma left him to his challenge, just watching quietly, trying to absorb everything he did. They could no longer assume the yacht was anything but Hypatia's ship and that she was here for Jack.
Zemma sighed. At least Don had something constructive to do.
Riddick prowled the dusty streets and dark establishments that gave pitiful little distraction from a miserable life. He felt completely at home. His anger was in check and he was doing the one job he was flawlessly suited for: hunting. Jack was leaving piteously few clues, but he didn't mind that. He was almost proud of her for being a challenge.
He thought perhaps he should feel differently. He should be angry at Jack; they should be on their way to…wherever.
He mentally shrugged. Didn't need a PHD to connect those dots. Jack gave him purpose. Hypatia gave him a target. Find one, take out the other, just like old times. There was a kind of catharsis in the old ways.
He didn't think about 'then what'. He just knew that Jack would finally be safe and he could quit worrying so much about what he hadn't done for her all those years ago. She could start clean.
He could start clean.
Jack kept moving, not bothering to stop and establish herself. There was nothing to pinch from these people. She just needed enough space between her and Riddick that he would get bored and leave without her. He and Zemma could start their happily ever after sooner if she wasn't around to complicate things. For once, it didn't bother her.
What would become of Don bothered her. She knew she left him in a tight spot. She knew what Riddick would think. She didn't mean to do that to him, but she couldn't face them long enough to apologize and still have the strength to get way the fuck gone. Zemma would forgive her. Don wouldn't. She couldn't stay knowing she'd ruined things.
She might have tried to stay and fix it.
She would have… maybe… if Hypatia hadn't found her again. Jack put them all in danger as long as Hypatia was in the picture.
She might have stayed, and let Riddick handle Hypatia. He said he could, and Jack believed him. She still believed him when he said he would take care of her.
But there was that other thing, still. And she believed that too. 'No sweet spot.' Riddick could take care of Jack in more than one way, one not so nice way. One very permanent way…except…
Not over Don. He would only yell at her for that. Maybe kick her ass a little. Probably let Don kick her ass a lot. She could have handled that.
It wasn't that.
It was almost her birthday. She'd be nineteen soon. Something was going to happen then. Jack didn't know what. Maybe it wouldn't be anything.
Maybe.
Or maybe it would be something really… Jack tried not to think about it.
Hypatia wanted her back really bad. Hypatia said she'd make Jack the greatest killer in history. Jack just didn't think it had anything to do with her skills.
Why hadn't anyone whacked her ass yet? Why did Zemma have to go and make her feel wanted? Why was Riddick trying so hard to educate her for a better life… when she didn't have one to live beyond her next birthday? Why did she let them?
Kyra had made her promise. They were supposed to die together in a blaze of glory: something to mark the history books. Live hard; die pretty. And IF they made it to Jack's 19th birthday, and IF Jack showed any signs of getting sick, then Kyra would do her, then herself, and they'd take heaven by storm.
Hell would be too afraid they'd try to take over.
Except… she never got Kyra out. Now Kyra was dead.
Riddick should have been a safe bet. She was supposed to be able to count on him. He was as unchanging as the ground and twice as hard. He was a professional killer. No sweet spot. Just boom. All done.
He wasn't supposed to break all the rules. He wasn't supposed to have a girlfriend, and Jack shouldn't have liked her. He wasn't supposed to make Jack feel like she had something to live for. He wasn't supposed to give her second chances.
If she got sick… would he try to save her?
Jack shuddered.
He'd shut her up in a cryo-tube and try to fix it. Living hell: stuck for god knows how long with Hypatia in her head and nightmares she couldn't wake up from.
And what if… what if Jack didn't get sick? What if she was just a carrier? What if Zemma got sick first? Or Don? Or Riddick?
What if people just started dying around her…and she never got sick and died too?
Jack looked around at the pathetic zombies who would never leave this planet. She might be doing them a favor if she just stuck around. But maybe, she wouldn't get sick too.
She'd better find out if there was a death penalty here. Sometimes these backwaters would forgo legalities in favor of justice. Maybe she'd be dead before Hypatia found her again.
Jack wished she wasn't such a chickenshit. It would be easier to just kill herself.
Hypatia played tag with the whoever on the frigate was actually interesting enough to keep her attention. She was in a hurry in the greater scheme of things, but sometimes you just had to stop and play a little. She laughed, and it would have frozen Jack in her tracks to hear it.
The little cruiser was of NecroMonger origin, though someone had gone through a great deal of trouble to hide that fact. She knew it was not merely a survivor of the destruction of 75 of the fleet. She'd been near enough to hear that last battle. Near enough to know who had orchestrated it. Her beloved Jack's favorite hero:
Riddick, Richard B.
His public files were amusing enough. He was slightly larger than life. Huge bounties. Impossible escapes. The slaughterer of ten thousand men? That had galled. That was her kill.
The Family must have known it would irritate her to no end that they would credit him with that. It was a backhanded way to put him on her personal list, no doubt. So she'd let it slide. If they wanted her services, they would have to pay just like everyone else.
Of course, she intended to make Them pay no matter what.
There were lots of little ways to make them regret crossing her, and she still had several in the works. But she wanted Jack back. Jack was still the best little ace she'd ever had up her sleeve. Jack amused her.
Sometimes she even fancied that she loved Jack…
It was impossible, but the idea tickled her.
It was still a few months till the birthday girls would come into play. Everything was in place. Jack wouldn't be able to leave this place without her help. And the chance to dance with the infamous Richard B. Riddick, well, it was all just too delicious to rush. She could spend a little time indulging herself here.
Once Jack was back in her possession time would just fly by anyway. The waiting was almost over. Soon she'd know which girl was the bomb… and which one was worth a fortune.