41. A Brief Encounter
Zemma sat on the bottom step worried about her boys. Not so much about them being able to handle Hypatia together… just that they were together. Riddick had been less than affable, not angry anymore, but the camaraderie was strained between them now.
She was proud of herself for making it all the way down the three steps. She couldn't broach the doorway in daylight but at night it was getting easier. She kept her cloak tightly wound about her, it gave her some comfort with the hood blocking some of her peripheral view. She watched a figure limp slowly onto the airfield.
Zemma stood up, gripping the handrail tightly. The soft dirt of the landing strip still made her sway, her stomach flip and her vision dim.
The figure approaching was too tall, and too thin to be either of her boys. The figure walked with a pronounced limp. Zemma couldn't use her lenses, they made her woozy out here, and the bright lights that illuminated the 'space port' backlit the…
There were no other ships, so it could only be Hypatia! Zemma felt a cold shiver chase down then back up her back. She slowly stepped backwards, up a riser, her heart pounding. What had happened to Riddick and Don? Had she killed them…both?
The figure pivoted half way between the ships. Zemma could see her more clearly now. Tall and lithe, she appeared to be wounded. Her head turned slowly to the side to stare directly at Zemma. Zemma took another step up and back. One more, one more and she could get inside, get inside and slam the lock button.
Zemma didn't think about what would happen if Riddick and Don were dead, she couldn't think it. The Now demanded just one action: move! Yet she couldn't move fast enough, she was still outside and her limbs were frozen with tension, and now fear. If she lifted her feet too quickly she might lose contact with the stairs; she might fly off into… she clamped down on that thought.
Hypatia was moving towards her now. Zemma found herself holding her breath, trying to get her foot up to the last step without really leaving the security of the metal grate. Her hand gripped the rail so tightly that she could hardly slide it up. Jack's devil-woman closed the gap between them with alacrity despite the obvious limp. Or was it less obvious now? Zemma made the top riser, slid her heel back to the edge of the bulkhead, her hand reaching for the doorframe.
"What have we here?" Silky voice from lips too red and a face too pale, the creature stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up. Before Zemma could think of an answer the strange woman went on without pause. "You must be Min, yes, my sweet child? The feeble creature only a killer like our Riddick could trust enough to love?"
Zemma's mind kicked into high gear now that she felt safely framed by the steel of the ship. 'Min!' The woman thought Zemma was Min! Riddick hated Min, hated when Zemma leaned on the façade rather than tackling things head on as he did. But Zemma felt a strange little surge of gleeful anticipation. If this woman thought she was something else, something to be manipulated, she might not attack Zemma head on. Zemma might have the advantage!
"Y'y'yes" Min's little girl voice floated out into the night air quite naturally.
Hypatia purred, a trill little sound in the back of her throat while her mouth widened into a grin. "You are lovely, my dear, why not come down here and let me have a look at you?" Still, she did not attempt to ascend the steps.
"Who are youuuu?" Min's face fluctuated between worry and expectation.
The face below her grinned exceptionally wide, luminous white teeth clamped together looking less like a smile and more like a grimace. Perhaps the limp was more problematic than her walk let on. "I'm a good friend of Jack. You know Jack, don't you?"
Min nodded enthusiastically, as Zemma's hand snaked slowly towards the close and seal button.
"My name's Hypatia," the creature went on smoothly, and still she did not try to step up.
Min smiled, more at ease now that the formalities were being seen to. "That's a funny name," Min's eyes twinkled but she didn't dare laugh.
"It's unique, just like me," the woman corrected her a bit firmly. Pride. Whatever might be oozing from the mysterious leg wound, pride was flowing more freely. Zemma was all too familiar with this peccadillo, both she and Min smiled gamely.
"You're pretty." Min looked down shyly, actually looking for the injury that apparently prevented the woman from stepping upwards safely. Why else did she stand there, not even trying to close to within killing range? Unless her effective reach was much greater than Zemma realized. That made Zemma wary.
However, flattery was the universal lubricant. Hypatia's face softened into a more natural smile.
"Would you like to come to my ship, Min?" She practically cooed, but a quick glance, hardly any movement at all, over her shoulder told Zemma the nature of this beast was more restrained and dangerous than the vain politicos she'd grown up with. "I have sweets, do you like sweets?" Then another quick glance with just her peripheral vision.
She was expecting company, soon. Zemma's heart soared. Her boys had scored and this one had left the field wounded, and looking for a way to salvage the encounter. What would be better than stealing a piece off the board? Zemma realized how perilous this situation could get, but she wanted to close the encounter in a way that would preserve her character. It might come in handy later to have this woman underestimate her.
For instance… if Hypatia got to Jack before Riddick did…Min might be more easily enticed on board. It should be no surprise that both women had that same thought, but for different reasons.
"I have to go," Min suddenly looked towards the town as if sensing something. "Ri… I mean, Ben said I shouldn't talk to anyone…" She bit her lip as if very sad not to go have treats.
Hypatia smiled benevolently, but Zemma could see her every sense turned towards town with tiny movements of her stance and head. "I won't tell," she purred. "It'll be our secret," and she dropped a rather caricatured wink. She wanted an ace in the hole. Zemma was delighted to let her think she had one.
"I'll see you soon, my dear," Hypatia turned heavily, as if stiff or in pain, perhaps to give Min the impression that she needed help or was simply harmless. "I'll save those sweets for you."
Subtle. And patient. Not afraid to slow play it. Zemma's smile towards Hypatia's back was a tad more predatory than Min would have been capable of, or that Riddick would have been comfortable with.
Jack walked along the dirt road, looking forlornly at the dirt houses. The sun had set and darkness quickly approached. She had no money and without an indentured chip she had no means of making any. Still, some of the residents were kind enough to offer a little, a painfully small amount, really. They were all in the same boat, the people said in so many words. They didn't question why she was even poorer than they.
Along the ridge ahead, her destination, maybe her destiny: the prison. She was thinking only about how to get in there, rather moribund thoughts, quite suited to the landscape. She passed by some dirty children without really seeing them. Children, who might otherwise have shocked Jack from her despondency were hurried inside by mothers who were quick to remind them, in hushed tones and in a little heard language, that around strangers they should be more careful.
Obediently, they twitched down their lenses.
These refugees had learned one thing over thirty years: they must hide to survive.