Chapter 16: Family Tree
I want to stand with you on a mountain,
I want to bathe with you in the sea,
I want to live like this forever...
until the sky falls down on me.
Truly, Madly, Deeply (C) Savage Garden
"Sherlock, look at this." They are out in the jungle canopy far from the lab and John stands on a limb backlit by the sunset. To Sherlock it is eerily reminiscent of the times they were up in the bright green and yellow trees on Bellatrix. He is happy, though, feeling light as air as he scrambles across the thick branches towards John, his tail held out perpendicular to the ground for added stability. He stands proudly next to John, his gaze following the other man's. They are looking out over a wide valley that has been the scene of violence at some point in the past. Twilight's shadows are encroaching upon their visibility, though they can still make out enough details to tell the story of what happened here.
To their right is what remains of a huge tree. Sherlock sees clearly at a glance that it was once full of life; indeed, a clan of the native people of Pandora once made it their home. It is gnarled and bent, but most of all it lies on its side where it was pushed over by great machines seventy five years ago. Grass and ivy grows around and on it, though it is a forlorn sight by any stretch of the imagination, the ebony and gray ash taking away from the beauty of the remaining life still in the plant. John shifts his feet a little, his tail waving in the slight breeze that is stroking the foliage behind them. Soft scurrying sounds can be discerned as other creatures go about their lives among the branches above, below and behind them.
John and Sherlock remain standing still, their eyes roving the valley below them, each lost in their own thoughts until they are brought into the present by a loud, harsh scream. Just above their heads a huge creature is coming in for a landing like a missile. Its cry cuts through the dying light like some sort of banshee wailing like death is imminent. John freezes where he stands until Sherlock hauls him backwards with one large hand against John's muscular shoulder. John lands against Sherlock's chest with a thump just as the massive four-winged creature lands on the ground hard enough to shake the tree they are standing in.
A deep male voice cries out in an unknown language. Sherlock taps John's ear and they both touch the button on their ear pieces that will allow them to communicate with the newcomer.
"Uniitirantokx!I can sense you! Come out to where I can see you." The voice is one that brooks no argument.
Since this is exactly what they have been waiting for, John and Sherlock step in unison back out onto the branch they had been using as an observation deck minutes before. "Dream walker" Sherlock states under his breath to John, "Do not speak until you are spoken to."
John nods his head, leaving the "aye captain" unspoken.
"Why are you here?" The man enquires as he dismounts the massive animal. John decides that it looks a little bit like a massive T-rex and an iguana had a baby and then gave it four wings and a lizard's skin. He read about the ikran in the files and even saw some photos, though they pale in comparison to the living creature with the long, tooth-filled beak on the ground just below them. Its base color is tan and it has a red wattle under its beak. At the tips of its primary wings are wicked-looking, hooked claws.
The Na'vi stands on the ground looking up at them with his feet spread apart and arms crossed over his chest. "I ask you: why are you here?" When he switches to English, his accent is strong but the words are flawless. Sherlock and John share a look of surprise. The Na'vi just shakes his head and mumbles to himself. His ikran turns its head towards him and gives him a gentle push with its beak. He pats the animal, mumbling soft words as he does so. Finally, he steps back as the ikran spreads its wings and glides effortlessly into the air.
"Join me." He waves a single hand into the air, blatantly signifying that the avatars should come down.
Back at the lab, Mycroft and Greg are watching a monitor filled with a topographical map of the area in which George's tracking devices show John and Sherlock as red dots marked with a "C" and an "A." George and Una are off duty for the time being, leaving Greg and Mycroft alone. Greg has been asking intelligent questions about the avatar program, and as Mycroft explains it to him they have found themselves with their chairs pulled right alongside each other.
"The avatars are best described as a human/Na'vi hybrid made to be driven by a human mind. They only work with the human whose DNA was used in forming the embryo." Mycroft's eyes sweep over the monitor as he speaks, checking and double-checking for anything that could spell trouble for the captain and the ambassador. He uses his hands when he is making a strong point, sometimes even running his fingers through the dark ginger waves of his hair.
Greg nods his head, too enthralled in watching Mycroft's eyes and hands to speak.
"They are psionically connected, you see." Mycroft turns from the screen to see if Greg is keeping up.
"No, I don't know what that means. I understand there is some sort of mental link between the John and Sherlock there" he points towards the metal caskets behind them, "and the John and Sherlock there," he points to the monitor, "though I really don't comprehend how it works."
Mycroft opens his mouth to launch into what Greg knows for certain will be a wonderful explanation that he will not understand more than a few words of. He holds up his hand, palm facing Mycroft. "You don't have to explain it. I don't need to know how it works in order to understand that it does."
"Alright." Mycroft tilts his head just slightly. "What else would interest you, then?"
Greg leans back into his chair with a slight groan. It has been a long day and he's ready to take a break. He eyes the tiny clock on the corner of the monitor: two more hours before George and Una take over. As much as he thinks he really could sit here and listen to Mycroft talk for hours, Mother Nature is calling. "Give me a mo, let me grab us both a cuppa and then you can tell me about the history of the avatar program."
Mycroft smiles, faint lines appearing to frame his dark blue eyes. "That would be fine, thank you." He turns his attention back to the monitor as Greg moves towards the tunnel and the cabin beyond. Just as he passes the admiral, however, his hand rests on Mycroft's shoulder for a brief moment. Mycroft finds that he does not hate it.
"May I ask your name?" Sherlock says to the Na'vi. Everything about the man is in keeping with the facts Sherlock has gleaned about the people, except for the slight tinge of amber in his otherwise black que. The captain notes the man's tension, probably nervous about meeting a dream walker, possibly he has never seen one before.
The Na'vi studies the two avatars closely as if searching them to ascertain whether they are a threat. After a moment, he drops his arms to his sides and gestures for them to follow him. He leads them a little ways towards the tree, finally settling on the ground with his legs stretched out in front of him. He is fully striped from head to tail to the tops of his six-toed feet.
John watches the Na'vi man, sizing him up and deciding that he is no more threat to them as they are to him. When the man gestures for them to follow, he naturally steps in front of the captain. It only takes two strides for Sherlock to catch up with him. "John." He says, smiling and then reaching out to tug at John's elbow. They share a look before realizing that the Na'vi is watching them over his shoulder. John wonders if the blue skin of his avatar blushes the same way as his human skin.
The Na'vi makes a noise in the back of his throat, not really clearing it, but enough to know that he saw what passed between them. He is polite, though, and does not mention it. They make themselves comfortable on the ground on either side of the Na'vi. It is then that Sherlock speaks.
"I am called Le'tay."
"Captain Holmes," Sherlock indicates himself. "Ambassador Watson." He gestures with an open hand to John.
Le'tay nods his understand. "You are partners?"
"Yes." John answers for them.
Le'tay gives a wide smile then waves his hands towards the tree behind himself. "This was once Home Tree. Do you know the story?"
"Yes, though it would do as well to hear it again." Sherlock requests, then leans back on his hands to listen to the story of a man named Jake Sully.
"What are they doing?" Greg asks as he hands Mycroft his steaming mug.
"They are speaking with one of the locals." Mycroft cocks an eyebrow at the monitor.
Greg chuckles. "Which one appears to be doing the speaking?"
"Apparently the Na'vi. I was listening until he said his name is Le'tay and then asked if John and Sherlock were partners. He seems harmless enough, though I think I know who he is."
"And?" Greg tries one of Mycroft's patented eyebrow lifts on for size. It just feels funny so he takes a sip of his tea to hide it.
Mycroft's mouth quirks up at the sides. No one ever attempts to emulate him; it's really quite hilarious but somehow flattering at the same time. He leans in towards Greg until their shoulders are touching. Greg goes tense for a moment, then he relaxes, one hand resting on the arm of the chair, the other holding his mug. "Go on, then." He uses the mug to make a full stop at the end of his statement, almost saluting the admiral.
"First you have to understand that the original avatars were grown from the donor's and the Na'vi DNA in labs on Earth." He pauses to sip his tea. "They were then shipped to Pandora as embryos. When they landed they were half-grown bodies. This occurred over the five-year span of time it took for the ship carrying them to reach Pandora from Earth."
"It is much faster now." Greg supplies.
"Quite. Now it does not take five years to grow them, either, as I believe my brother proved to us."
"Why were they developing the avatars to begin with, admiral?" Greg queries, his eyes scanning the monitor in front of them. The dots had not moved. Apparently, they were having some sort of meeting. Greg only half wishes that he could have at least seen the ikran up close.
"The program was developed originally to supply a body that could withstand Pandora's atmosphere for the miners sent there to obtain a mineral they called unobtanium."
Greg snorts. "That's a ridiculous name."
Mycroft shrugs. "I do not disagree with you. However ridiculous it's name, it was desired enough to almost kill an entire race." He drains his cup and sets it out of the way next to the monitor. "Still talking, then."
Greg finishes his own tea, sets the mug down on the floor next to him and settles back into his chair.
"If you will, believe that the original avatar's cost five billion American dollars at that time."
"Damn. They must not have made too many then."
"From the information I have at the present, counting the two that Sherlock grew here, there have been twenty two made."
Greg whistles. "Okay."
They are silent for a few moments, contemplating the monitor. John is still seated near Le'tay, though Sherlock is pacing in circles around them. He is apparently listening to what the Na'vi is telling him, as his dot on the monitor is circling slowly, not the manic pacing he is capable of executing when he is nervous or excited about something.
"So, then, who was Jake Sully, Mycroft?"
"Jake was the twin brother of one of the scientists involved in designing the avatar program and ultimately finding a way to make peace with the native peoples of Pandora. Tommy Sully perished while en route on his first trip to the moon. Since they shared so much of their DNA, Jake was invited to take his brother's place." Mycroft's eyes shifted towards the monitor again, obviously thinking about his own sibling's place in all of this. "Jake was a former marine, a paraplegic confined to a wheelchair after one of the many wars that were always taking place on Earth then."
"I can see the attraction." Greg said softly.
"Yes. He would later go on to become a hero during some of the first battles for Pandora that took place between the indigenous people and the mining company."
"The mining company had the capability of waging war? What, were all the miners moonlighting as soldiers, too?"
"Close enough, Greg. The mining company hired a massive number of ex-military mercenaries, many of which were battle-hardened and others who were just looking for a change."
"That's enough, I guess."
A comfortable silence falls between them before Greg speaks again. They can hear the clicking of the oxygen pump and the beeps of the monitors watching over John and Sherlock. "What happened to Jake?"
"Ah. Now that is where the information becomes sketchy after all this time. The priestess, or possibly wise-woman of the Na'vi somehow found a way to merge Jake's mind with the avatar body. He and a Na'vi woman became what they called 'a mated pair' and it is after that point that we lose him to history."
"Wow."
Before Mycroft can answer, Una and George are sliding and walking into the room. "Ready to take a break, admiral?" Una asks.
"Absolutely. Thank you." Mycroft nods towards the two aliens that he has come to consider friends and comrades. He heads to the tunnel, Greg on his heels.
Le'tay is watching Sherlock pace in a small circle around them as he speaks of his family. He is referring to the heroics of a man he is referring to as Grandfather when Sherlock stops completely.
Even from his vantage point on the ground and the deepening twilight surrounding them, John can see that "aha" gleam in Sherlock's golden avatar eyes. He smiles despite himself.
"That would make you Jake Sully's grandson."
Le'tay nods in affirmation and smiles at them, his white teeth almost glowing in the growing shadows.
Greg and Mycroft stand facing one another in the short hallway between their bedrooms. "May I ask you something, admiral?" Greg's voice is the rumble of an oncoming storm.
Mycroft sees the slight flush of red against Greg's tan cheeks, the slight part of his lips and he goes completely still. "Yes." He murmurs.
"Is it something you have ever wanted, admiral?" Greg is looking at the dusty floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the galaxy.
"What might that be, Weapons Master Lestrade?" Mycroft's husky sound draws Greg's attention directly to his face.
"You know, to be a 'mated pair' as you so eloquently put it?" Greg wonders if Mycroft can hear his heart hammering against his chest.
"I have given it some thought recently." He says, slowly reaching out a hand to Greg's shoulder, copying the other man's movements from earlier.
Greg almost growls. If he were a panther, he would have simply pounced. Something in the back of his mind stops him, begs him to listen to reason. The words higher-ranking officer bounce about the inside of his skull. In a half-choked voice he asks "What about this?" as he points at the polished golden insignia on Mycroft's chest.
Mycroft follows Greg's hand. "Does it matter to you?" He leans in that much closer, invading Greg's personal space. Greg unconsciously moves towards the other man.
"No."
Without any further ado, Greg's hands are on Mycroft's shoulders and he is pulling the admiral towards his mouth. When their lips finally touch he wonders if he is imagining the sudden spark of white-hot flames that barrel down his neck all the way to the ground. Mycroft is not exactly pulling away, instead wrapping his arms around Greg's torso and hauling him in even closer. It is new and fascinating and he is incapable of getting as close as he wants to be.
"My room or yours?" He chokes out.
"Yours." Greg offers in between soft kisses against the side of Mycroft's neck. One of them pulls, the other pushes and somehow they make it all the way into the bedroom and even close the door before they are virtually tearing each other's uniforms off.