Female Of The Species. Part Four
by Nicola
Cert: PG-13
Disclaimers: See Part One.
Archiving: Sure! But always contact me first!
Summary: Two down…
Chiana yanked her gloves from her fingers mopping her forehead with an aching hand; she glared murderously at Rygel.
“Ok. Pilot,” she wiped away the colourless fluid that had smeared itself across the damaged walls, “I’m going to try to put the conduit back into position again.”
“And be more careful this time,” Rygel grumbled blinking through the transparent layer that was forming slowly on his eye lids, “I do not like being covered in Moya’s bodily fluids.”
Chiana shot him a fractious look. “Shut up and help.” She growled. His lofty position in his throne-sled allowed him to take the main weight of the pulsating pipe leaving Chiana with the difficult task of realigning it. “Pilot?” She called as she eased the pulsing cord slowly into place, “How are you doing?”
“I-” Chiana heard a soft grunt as he tried to respond. “I feel very weak…”
“It’s ok Pilot, Rygel and I will be finished soon, don’t worry.” A triumphant smile flickered over her features as the slippery cord slid back into it’s correct place. “Pass me the blow torch Rygel.”
“Are you mad? Pilot said seal the breach not make it bigger!”
“I’m going to use the heat to fuse the things together, how else do you propose I do it? Ram them together and hope they stay by magic?” She shook her head weariness making her easily irritable, “Now pass me the blow torch, my arms are beginning to ache. I don’t know if I can hold this any longer.” ‘I don’t even know if I can stay awake much longer.’ Taking the cumbersome item out of Rygel’s tiny hands she aimed carefully and then turned her head away from the flame. ‘Goggles would have been useful’ she thought grimly, ‘bit late now.’
“Pilot? I am about to apply heat to this area, Moya might be in a bit of pain.”
“She – will – bear- it. I - will – bear - it” He gasped.
“Pilot?” It was Zhaan who spoke. Chiana froze. Pilot had not wanted to concern her, didn’t want to distract her and didn’t want her to know.
“Yes?” He replied wheezing.
“ I wondered if you could send the frequency of John’s comm signal to command. That way if it is activated at all I can pin-point it directly.” She paused. “Pilot, are you alright? You don’t sound too well. Is there a problem with Moya?”
“No.” Pilot replied truthfully.
“It’s alright Zhaan,” Chiana interjected helpfully, “Rygel and I have solved the problem, Pilot’s just feeling a little pain because we were forced to cut into Moya.” Squeezing her eyes shut she held her breath hoping Zhaan would believe her.
“Cut into Moya? What’s wrong? Can I help?”
“No Zhaan really, it’s hardly a problem at all. Sparky just had a little accident involving his throne sled and the wall, that’s all. But it’s all sorted now. You just concentrate on finding John and D’argo.”
“Alright.” Zhaan conceded. “But if you require my assistance-”
“Zhaan!” Chiana groaned. “You should be resting-”
“Alright, alright,” she sighed terminating the connection. ‘Perhaps Chiana resents the fact that I offered my help. She is capable after all’ she thought generously. Rubbing her forehead she groaned, how could she solve the planetary problem that she did not understand? Perhaps China really was right. Perhaps a little rest, maybe even some meditation would do her good, help her to clear her thoughts. Concentrate her mind.
Back in the corridor Chiana breathed out nervously. “That was close.” She muttered. “Ok Pilot, this should only take a few microts then your supply line will be fully reconnected.”
“Thank you Chiana.”
“You’re welcome.” Chiana replied as she fired up the hissing flame of the torch.
* * * *
Through folds of sleep Aeryn drowsily detected the persistent tugging on her arm. Tugging? She forced her eyes to open shivering in the pale darkness, a sliver of silver moonlight piercing the room. Stark was moving relentlessly towards the door dragging her along with him, sliding across the crumpled sheets she scrambled to her knees the rough material grazing her skin, the metal of the handcuffs threatening to bruise her wrists.
“Stark!” She hissed loudly, “What are you doing?”
He moved relentlessly towards the door.
“Stark!” The moonlight caught his eyes and Aeryn gasped; glazed, expressionless, his face was an empty mask. Struggling to pull him back she slapped his arm hard. “Stark wake up!” She snapped. No response. His face was not the visage of fear she had expected, not the horror that had been described as causing all the men to leave. Straining to prevent him from pulling her away she dived back towards her two weapons: pulse rifle, pulse pistol. Fumbling with their cumbersome shapes she found herself inexplicably drawn across the bed until she tumbled gracelessly to the floor. Gritting her teeth she rose to her feet beside Stark aiming one last powerful blow in his direction. His body stumbled slightly but his face did not flicker, it remained expressionless, emotionless, blank. An impassive void. He seemed as if hypnotised, unresponsive, striving to reach the doorway as if driven by some external force. Was this how all the men had been forced to leave? What was making him act this way?
“Alright then.” She threw her hair back onto her moist neck, clutching the heavy security of her weapons to her. “Show me where you want to go.” ‘Show me where the others went.’ She thought hopefully allowing him to pull her towards the door. His hand reached slowly for the handle easing the door silently open for him to slip through brushing Aeryn roughly against the rugged wooden edge. Inhaling sharply as a coarse splinter untidily pierced her skin she glared furiously at Stark’s unresponsive figure. Stepping out into the blackness of the night Aeryn felt the dry draughty breeze shiver round her bare legs the dusty aridness of the wood warm on her bare feet as they thudded down the steps and into the street. Dodging the pebbles and grit in the dark she followed Stark’s determined stride down the main street. Veering off into a narrow alley he plunged them into near impermeable darkness and Aeryn suddenly thought of the others on Moya. Could she direct them to her? Switching on her comms she spoke quietly into them, keeping her voice low so as not to attract any undue attention.
“Pilot? Zhaan?” She waited, resisting the speed at which Stark walked so he struggled to maintain his pace. “Are you there? Someone? For frell’s sake answer!” She hissed. Her comms crackled slightly and she banged her hand across them, suddenly clearing the static.
“Aeryn?” It was Zhaan who spoke, lifting her head wearily off the strategy table where she had slipped into an uneasy doze, her voice hoarsened by exhaustion, “What is it what’s wrong? What’s the time?”
“I have no idea what the time is early morning I guess, but its still dark. But that’s not important.” She strained to slow Stark down and over the comms Zhaan heard her as her feet scuffled in the sharp dust that scratched the soles of her feet..
“Aeryn what is wrong, what is the matter?”
“It’s Stark he-”
“Has he gone missing too?”
“No but he’s trying to.”
“What do you mean?”
Glancing across into her companion’s glassy eyes Aeryn explained the situation to Zhaan who listened with growing concern and confusion.
“Can you not stop him?”
“I’ve tried everything Zhaan. He doesn’t respond to anything at all. It’s like he’s been hypnotised.”
“Hypnotised?”
“I think it’s something to do with that noise they all said they could hear.” She shook Stark’s arm violently but he still did not respond. “Zhaan can you and Chiana get yourselves down here? I might need some help.”
“We’ll be on our way, where are you now?”
“I don’t know you’ll have to follow my comm’s signal.”
“Alright, we’ll be with you as soon as possible, Aeryn.” No reply. “Aeryn?” ‘Frell not you as well!’ “Aeryn answer me!” Silence.
~
As she eyed her completed handy work out of drowsy, unfocused eyes Chiana listened vaguely to the two familiar voices, not actually taking in anything they said but merely allowing their voices to wash over her. Sitting back against the wall she let her eyes to flutter closed. Rygel lowered his sled to join her prodding her arm to attract her attention.
“Chiana, Zhaan wants you.”
“What?” She mumbled fighting the waves of sleep, “Why? There is not a problem with Moya…”
“Its about Stark.” He growled watching her face slowly relax as she drifted towards sleep. Angrily he lifted his pudgy hand and smacked it across her cheek, startling her awake.
“What was that for?” She snapped.
“Go to command now.” He ordered her gruffly. “Zhaan wants you.” His sled whirred away. “I’m off to visit Pilot. See if our operation was successful.”
Scrambling to her feet Chiana touched her comms as she started quickly towards command her eyes wide with wonder at Rygel’s concern for Pilot. ‘That Hynerian never ceases to amaze me.’ “Zhaan its Chiana what’s the problem?”
“It’s Stark he seemed to be taking Aeryn somewhere and then I lost contact with Aeryn.”
“Huh? Where was he taking her?”
“We don’t know, Aeryn said he seemed to be in some sort of trance.”
“I’m almost there Zhaan.” Chiana replied pushing her exhausted limbs to go faster spurring her quickly towards command. Now that she thought about it she hadn’t really paid any attention to the occurrences on the planet, she had been so concerned with Pilot’s condition. Perhaps it was more serious than she had thought. As she contemplated the events that had been related to her the full extent of the situation hit her. John and D’argo had both gone missing without a trace and now Stark was trying to do the same? Entering command she rushed towards Zhaan.
“So?” She asked nervously. “What's the situation?”
“Aeryn was following Stark to wherever he took her, see if she could find the others. But then I lost contact with her. However we can find her by following her comm’s signal, which is still active.”
“So we’re gonna find her?” Chiana summarised.
Zhaan nodded activating her comms once more. “Pilot? Can you prime a transport pod?”
“Doing it now.” The symbiont’s voice still shook a little but the strength was returning. Chiana gave an inward sigh as she saw this did not register on Zhaan’s face.
“I suggest we take some weapons,” Chiana said in anticipation, “we don’t know what we’re letting ourselves in for. We may need them.”* * * *
Aeryn stumbled as Stark moved swiftly through an opening door, tripping on a ridge on the ground that dug into sharply her bare feet so she slipped knocking her chest against the doorframe thumping her breath from her body. Putting her hand out to steady herself she followed him down a set of smooth steps that chilled the underside of her battered feet. ‘You wait until this is over Stark.’ she thought angrily. Around her the blackness was gradually lifting and a grainy light seemed to drift from below. Everywhere was silent. Too silent.”
“Zhaan. Are you still there?” No reply. “Zhaan?!” Reaching up to her comms she merely found an empty patch of clothing. Her comm unit had gone. It must have been knocked off when she fell against the door. That meant she was alone. Readying
one of her weapons she tucked the other up the back of her shirt out of sight and continued to follow Stark down. They seemed to have been going down for eternity when they stopped on a flat surface, Aeryn tugged Stark’s arm but he did not move. Peering through the endless gloom she analysed her surroundings, a square chamber with some shapes slumped at the edges. Behind her she heard the door squeak shut and banging her hand against its metal smoothness she found to her anger that it was solid. Unmoving. She was locked in; she was trapped.
Suddenly the cell was filled with a blinding light that glared from the ceiling. Instinctively Aeryn shut her eyes pressing her hand over her face to shield her eyes from the sudden and painful illumination. Easing her fingers apart she waited slowly for her vision to adjust before removing her hand and staring around the room, what she saw filled her with both relief and dread.
Chained against the walls, their eyes wide and unblinking, sat the slumped shapes: the motionless figures of John and D’argo. Before she had chance to open her mouth to call to them, the door in front of her began to open and she quickly concealed her pulse rifle waiting expectantly for the door to finish opening and the figure to present itself. The figure that she knew would be there.
“Varala.” She hissed.
The mayoress glared at her out of her surprised ebony eyes, a threatening fire burning black in their depths. Silently she scanned the situation before her, the handcuffs that held the two creatures together, Aeryn’s determined face and her lack of weapons. Clenching her fists she broke the chilled silence.
“You couldn’t leave well alone could you?” She glowered. “You had to try and solve the ‘mystery’ for yourself.”
Aeryn stared first at John and D’argo, then at Varala. “What have you done to them?”
Varala smiled. “That’s not for you to concern yourself with.” She watched smiling sadistically as Aeryn tried to communicate with them.
“They won’t reply.” She sneered. “So you can talk all you like but they won’t listen.” Drawing a threatening weapon she approached Aeryn menacingly. “Where is the key for those handcuffs?”
“I don’t have it.” She said triumphantly. “It’s back in my room.” Varala raised her hand and struck her across her face with tremendous force that knocked Aeryn off balance so she stumbled backwards. Lifting her head she glared at Varala out of defiant eyes.
“It normally only takes myself to chain new recruits up but…” She pressed an implement on the collar of her gown and two men walked in, their faces fixed in a vacant stare.
“What have you done to them?” Aeryn asked in disgust. “The same you plan to do to John, D’argo and Stark? Why? What’s it all for?” Varala chose not to bother responding to her question.
Pulling a strange silver instrument from her robe she used it to break the link between Stark and Aeryn. “See to it these two are chained against the wall.” She ordered before sweeping out.
“Varala, come back!” Aeryn shouted, angrily struggling against the four strong arms that forced her emotionlessly back against the wall securing her arms so she could not move to get her weapons. With her arms held as they were she could not reach her gun, could not prevent herself being restrained. “Stop what you’re doing!” She instructed the two men. They did not respond instead they continued to force her back against the wall clamping the chains around her wrists. “Stark!” She yelled desperately, but he remained as if frozen at the centre of the room, only moving when he was guided towards his incarceration. Frustrated Aeryn struggled against her restraints but could only watch as the men left, moving slowly, smoothly, unnaturally, their bodies locked in an induced trance. Left in silence Aeryn turned her head to John who was seated next to her.
“John.” She kicked him lightly on the shin. “John, it’s Aeryn, John wake up!” She kicked him harder. “Come on John, snap out of it!” His body jerked and Aeryn leant as near to him as her chains would allow so her face was paused in front of his.
“John? Can you hear me? John!” he didn’t respond but his face was no longer settled into the rigid concealing veil that froze emotionless on his features. Instead his eyes had closed and he seemed to be fighting something.
Something seemed to explode within his head
“Fight it John, fight it,”
Blackness.
“You can not let them win.”
Turmoil beat within his mind, the images of his nemesis returned, piercing the overwhelming obscurity that swirled inside his consciousness.
“You’re stronger than this John. Don’t let it beat you.”
Pain, a sharp pain, an external feeling.
‘John!’ Another voice.
“Do not succumb. Fight it. Stay strong.”
‘John it’s Aeryn, John wake up.’ The other voice again. Aeryn. He struggled to respond, to fight the heaviness that was closing in.
“Frell it!” The voice sounded uncommonly cheerful, laughing at a joke that had not been told. “You’re stronger than this! Do not give in again.”
So heavy…a struggle not to fail…Desperation to regain consciousness…to be free…John’s body shuddered and Aeryn shook him to try and liberate him from the trance that kept him distant from her. Shivers ran down his body and his head twitched as he tried to shake himself unconsciously free. Aeryn could smell the sweat that was beginning to coat his body as he tried to wriggle out of invisible hands his chains rattling loudly. Pressing her hands on his shoulders she called again for him to wake up. He jerked violently and abruptly the shuddering stopped. His eyes snapped open wild and afraid, disorientated; he looked like a lost child. Pressing his chained hands to his ears he tried to crush the frenzied sound that raged within his skull. Taking his head in her hands Aeryn stared steadily into his blue eyes.
“It’s alright John, it’s me; it’s Aeryn.” She waited for him to respond.
“Aeryn?” He muttered weakly. “What the hell happened where am I?”
“Something made you come here, although I don’t know where here is.” She admitted her voice ringing with frustration. “Something Varala’s up to.” She paused regarding his pained face. “John, Are you alright?”
He shook his head laboriously. “No, that noise…”
“What noise John? Is it the ringing noise again?”
“Yeah…so loud…” He groaned. Lifting his head he surveyed their surroundings. “Where the hell are we?” He turned his head to see D’argo chained beside him. “D’argo?” He remained silent, John turned nervously back to Aeryn. “What’s wrong with him?”
“You were like that when I found you.” She said calmly. “But you snapped out of it.”
“I uh, I had these uh, flashes.” He blinked.
“Flashes?”
“Of Scorpius. I dunno, I just…” His voice trailed off weakly.
“Never mind John.” She stroked his cheek reassuringly, “The important thing now is to work out how to get out of here.” She glanced at her chained wrists and the two locked doors. None of them had their comms. She had no way of removing her restraints. The whole situation did not look favourable. ‘Hurry Zhaan,’ she thought urgently. Passing John her pulse pistol she sighed heavily.
“Seems we are left with just one choice. Wait for Varala to return.”
End of Part Four!!!
by Nicola
Cert: PG-13
Disclaimers: See Part One.
Archiving: Sure! But always contact me first!
Summary: Stand by your man…
Sliding blearily down the steps to the transport pod Stark stared back at
Aeryn’s disapproving face.
“I’m no pilot, Aeryn. Empty space I can cope with but gravity…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Aeryn said dismissively, “at least you’re here, so we can put an end to this.”
“Do you know what happened to them?” Stark asked.
“No, I have no idea,” Aeryn replied curtly.
“Well, do you know where they are then?” he questioned hopefully.
Aeryn regarded him incredulously. “No.” She replied shortly, not even bothering to point out the idiocy of his question. If she knew where they were they’d be with her now, wouldn’t they?
“However,” she continued, reaching for the handcuffs in Stark’s hand, “I’ve got a plan.”
“Glad to hear it,” Stark’s voice betrayed his attempt to hide his complete lack of confidence and Aeryn turned away in a huff starting to head towards town, striding quickly back towards the bar where she had arranged her meeting.
“Tell me Stark, can you hear a strange noise?” She regarded him with a half-expectant look, “like a ringing?”
“Yes.” He rubbed his ear uncomfortably. “Yes. He rubbed his ear uncomfortably. “How do you know about it? Can you hear it too? I was wondering about it.”
“No. Strangely you, John and D'argo have all been able to hear it but I can’t. And as for wondering what it is, you can keep wondering,” she growled, “Because I have no idea.”
“Great.” Stark muttered. “Useful.” He sighed hastening to keep up with Aeryn. “So what’s your plan?”
“We’re going to go chat with the mayoress. I think it’s about time I introduced another of Moya’s males to Varala.”* * * *
Awkwardly Pilot shifted his leaden arms relaxing them wearily onto the panel in front of him activating the internal comms; he spoke in a wavering voice.
“Zhaan, Stark has arrived on the planet’s surface and he and Aeryn are continuing with the search for John and D’argo.”
“Thank you Pilot.” Zhaan nodded. “May the goddess give them guidance.” She turned to Chiana her eyes troubled. “First John, now D’argo, I fear there is some evil working on that planet.”
“You and me both.” Chiana heaved a sigh, “but don’t worry Zhaan, Aeryn’ll find them and if she needs your help I know she’ll ask and I also know that you’ll do a great job.” She offered Zhaan a reassuring smile and the Delvian patted the young Nebari’s hand gratefully.
“Thank you dear.” the priestess replied, trying hard not to look worried in front of her young friend.
“No problem,” Chiana beamed pulling away. “Always happy to help.” ‘Which reminds me,’ she thought grimly, ‘There’s someone else who needs my help. Pilot and I need to finish our chat.’ Jogging from command she moved quickly down Moya’s corridors towards Pilot’s chamber, slowing as she neared the door. Stooping, she stepped through slowly, her eyes adjusting to the dim ambience as she approached the weary symbiont.
“Pilot.” She smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Lifting his arms he turned his head so she would not see the evasion in his eyes. Climbing up onto the console Chiana peered at Pilot, flicking a strand of hair out of her concerned, dark eyes.
“What’s wrong Pilot?” she laid a gloved hand on his claw. “Are ya sick?”
“I have not contracted any form of virus or sickness.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“It is nothing for you to concern yourself with.”
“So there is a problem.” Discovery gleamed in Chiana’s eyes but Pilot avoided her probing.
“The problem, is that Crichton and D’argo have disappeared. Zhaan must not be distracted from the search.” His head slumped wearily forward.
Realisation slapped Chiana in the face and she jerked her head sharply towards Pilot. “So that’s why you won’t tell me what the problem is. You don’t want Zhaan to be worried when she’s already got a problem to deal with, you said yourself you don’t want to distract her.” ‘Dear selfless Pilot,’ she thought, “Well I’m here Pilot. You can talk to me.”
“There is no problem Chiana.” Pilot gasped angrily.
Chiana’s face flashed concern; Pilot never got angry, “…. “Then why are you so tired? Hmm? Why are you struggling to speak? Your reactions, they’re slower you’re- ”
“I’m just a little low on nutrients, that’s all.” Pilot interrupted hoping his concession would end her involvement in the matter.
“A little?” She eyed him warily. “How much is a little?”
“My nutrient supply from Moya has been partially severed.”
Chiana’s eyes boggled. “What do you mean partially?” She asked nervously. “I mean are you about to keel over on me? ‘Cos you can’t do that, not while Aeryn’s not here anyway, ‘cos I wouldn’t have a clue what to do!”
“I am stable.”
“Good, that’s good.” Chiana nodded looking relieved then her brow creased as another thought occurred to her. “Are you gonna become unstable? How long can you last?”
“I-” Inwardly Pilot groaned. ‘I never should have told her about this, but the situation could get worse...’ “Possibly a solar day before the effects begin to show.”
“They’re already showing!”
“Serious. Before the effects become serious. At the moment I am just suffering mild discomfort.”
“Ok, ok, one day, so what do we do to make it better?”
“The conduit that carries the flow of nutrients has been damaged. It must be due to an impact of some kind, a DRD, a-”
“Rygel!” Chiana growled angrily interrupting Pilot. “I saw him racing around on that throne sled of his, he seemed to be having difficulty controlling it,” a fleeting smile crossed her face, “he was cursing Crichton for not being here to repair it.” Pilot’s head drooped, refocusing Chiana’s attention; she put a hand out to stroke his cheek. “He must have lost control of it and ran it into a wall causing the damage…and then not told anybody. How thoughtful of him.” She frowned then looked reassuringly over at Pilot. “But that’s not a problem now. The DRDs can fix it right?”
“The problem is too big for DRDs alone I am afraid.” Pilot replied, his frustration with himself evident for having to concede this to Chiana and to cause such a problem, especially when she was so obviously tired and in need of sleep.
“Ok then. You tell me where to go and what to do and I’ll do it Pilot.” She smiled confidently. “I’ll sort this out for you. Don’t worry. Just tell me what to do.”
* * * *
Stark glanced around the crowded bar, his hands resting in his lap gripping each other tightly as he leant back in his seat. Turning towards Aeryn he voiced his thoughts.
“Apart from the lack of males - of any species - there does not seem to be anything wrong with this place.”
“And yet two of our male crew members have gone missing - without a trace.
John said this place gave him the creeps. He was right. Something is not right.” Scouring the room she frowned impatiently. “Where is she?” She growled, annoyed.
Stark’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
Aeryn’s eyes settled on the soft brown skin of a youthful girl retired in a darkened corner. “Her.” Leaving Stark she pushed roughly through a haze of velvety dark skins stopping in front of the recessed table. She announced her arrival by setting her drink down on its smooth surface.
“You’re here. Good, so am I.” She sat herself opposite the young native. “Now what do you say we talk?”Stark watched Aeryn go, stuttering after her but failing to prevent her departure. Sighing and shaking his head he returned his attention to his glass, turning around to face the imposing figure of Varala, her dark eyes gleaming in her black skin.
“Are you another of Aeryn Sun’s companions? Another male?” Her eyes narrowed in disapproval as she spoke, a strange glint flickering behind her eyes, something Stark could not understand.
“I am Stark.” He responded sounding much calmer than he felt.
“You are Sebacean?”
“No. I am a Banik.” He watched her face crease as she tried to place the species and then decided to continue. “I see you are wondering about my species. It is perhaps unfamiliar to you. I, unfortunately, come from a slave race.”
“Slave race indeed? Then you are accustomed o manual labour? You must be stronger than you look.” She smiled greedily. Stark shivered, the absence of male company was not having a good effect on this woman at all.
“My strength suffices.” He replied cautiously.
Glancing across at Aeryn, Varala drew her lips into a thoughtful pout. “How long has your sebacean comrade been on the planet?” She asked, “She seems very tired, perhaps she should return to your ship and allow you to continue the search alone?”
“I thank you for your concern but it is doubtful Aeryn will return until she has found both Crichton and D’argo.” he stated, finding much truth in his own words.
“It is possible that they may never be found. It would seem they both disobeyed curfew orders; their safety cannot be vouched for. Male presence in this city is not tolerated, should they have encountered some of this town’s criminals…” Her voice trailed off and she watched the emotions on Stark’s face. “Men have simple minds, Banik, I’m sure you appreciate that. We are proud of the joy segregation brings.”~
“Segregation brings nothing but misery.” The girl spat. She had introduced herself to Aeryn as Natrisha. “We did not ask for it, we had no choice. One day the streets were full of both males and females, then the males began to dwindle, their numbers grew few. Meanwhile Varala was preaching about the evil of male influence. I thought the men were just getting afraid and leaving, but now? Now I do not believe this.
“Garoth, he himself told me that he would never leave… and then…” She sighed heavily, “The night before our wedding, he disappeared. Then…then it seemed in one night all the males in the town had left. People said that they had fled in fear of
Varala’s policy of segregation.” Lowering her voice she glanced around nervously. “No one talks about it. Everyone gets on with life as if nothing had happened, as if we were always this way…Women were always more important than men, so people were seemed prepared to accept their departure, but your arrival, it changed things.”
“How so?” Keeping her voice low Aeryn leant towards Natrisha.
“People have started to talk again, but no one seems brave enough to speak publicly, I think they are all afraid that they will be punished for questioning the council’s policies. They might be taken too? Forced to leave the city, like Garoth.”
“And what do you believe forced them to leave?”
“I do not know.” She whispered, “but I am afraid of it.”
Aeryn sighed. She had learnt very little that was of true benefit: that all the males had left in the night, the people were not happy with the situation, but…that was all. Silently she thought about what Natrisha had just said. The males had all left out of fear. So why had John left? He was not afraid. Or there was the other theory; something had scared them into leaving. Thanking Natrisha she moved to her feet and squeezed herself past the gathered clusters of green clothed people towards Stark. Varala was staring at him her manner clearly intimidating him.
“Stark.” Aeryn called him and he looked thankfully over. “I suggest that we go back to our accommodation and contact Moya, see whether Zhaan has discovered anything that can help us.” Grasping Stark’s arm she hauled him to the door; feeling Varala’s eyes burn into their necks she held back the vicious glare she longed to throw in Varala’s direction. Stepping outside she breathed in a lungful of the warm dusky air staring up at the hazy sky, glanced down she peered at the horizon as it curved visibly away.
“I thought you had a plan?” Stark asked irritated, Aeryn had barely paused to inform him of the situation and now she seemed to be lost in aimless thought.
“I have.” Aeryn snapped. “Give me your hand.”
“Why?” he asked timidly
“Just do it!”
Stark waved his left hand in front of Aeryn’s face and felt her hands clamp strongly onto it. A sharp metallic click pierced the street’s silence and jerking his head down he saw – to his dismay - that Aeryn had handcuffed them together.
“This is your plan?” He asked incredulously.
“Exactly.” She replied. “You are not going anywhere. Come on.” She yanked on his hand and led the way back to their accommodation. Perhaps this wasn’t the most interesting solution, John would probably be quite disappointed in her lack of ingenuity, but at least it meant the missing two could not become a missing three. Two missing males; in a town empty of males.
“Varala said she thought it could have been criminals who took John and D’argo, because they were male.” He glanced over his shoulder nervously. “She said that they could have been taken while they were out after curfew.”
“Yes, but John returned.” Aeryn replied. “I was awake and he came back. Now for some reason unbeknownst to me; he left the room before I next awoke, but I do know that he was not attacked whilst out on his walk.”
* * * *Chiana sidled quietly down the corridors heading towards the damaged area following Pilot’s directions. As she passed the mess hall she heard the tell-tale whirr of Rygel’s throne-sled, pausing she debated briefly as what to do. Give Rygel hezmana or proceed straight to the severed conduit. After a brief battle with her weak conscience she finally decide it wouldn’t kill Pilot if he waited just a few microts. Leaning up against the door she whispered through the crack, “Oh Ryge,” she purred, “come out here, I got something I wanna talk to you about.”
“Can’t it wait?” He spoke through a muffling mouthful of green food cubes recognising the voice of the crewmember he usually regarded as a fellow conspirator. Well whatever it was she had devised this time, it could wait.
“No Ryge, I’m afraid it can’t. Come on, I wont take too long,” ‘Get you fat ass out here!’ Rygel She thought impatiently. Grumbling moved his sled so it hovered in the entrance to the door.
“This better be worth it.” He growled before making a move to follow her. “I was in the middle of eating”
Before he had time to react he found himself yanked out of the comfort of his throne sled and slammed up against the nearest wall. Gasping he retorted furiously his words choked out in anger.
“If this is some kind of joke-”
“Joke? Is damaging Moya and then not telling anyone a joke?”
Rygel feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean!”
“You don’t fool me Rygel,” Chiana snapped, “what happened after I left you earlier when you were having problems with your throne sled. I hear you cursing it because you couldn’t control it? Is that right? Now tell me if I’m right here.” She pushed her face up close to his. “After you left me you lost control of your sled didn’t ya? Then you crashed into one of Moya’s walls leaving a big dent, didn’t ya? Then you left as quick as your throne-sled would allow you before any one noticed, didn’t ya?” Her eyes glowed and she glared angrily at Rygel her voice rising. “Didn’t ya?”
“I- err, I,” he stuttered.
“You what frog-boy? Spit it out!”
“I didn’t cause much harm.”
“No, no, of course you didn’t, that’s why Pilot has been feeling like dren for the last few arns, why he can’t think straight. Did you even notice? You haven't got an excuse like Zhaan, you’re not preoccupied trying to find John and D’argo, you’re not helping anybody. Well,” she tucked his wriggling body under her arm; “you’re helping me now.”
“Help? I’m not helping you!” He squeaked. “What do you need help for?”
“You damaged the conduit that carries Pilot’s nutrient supply. So now you are going to help me fix it. And then, you are going to apologise to Pilot.” She opened her comms and started to walk back towards the damaged area. “Pilot, I’m almost there, I stopped to pick up Rygel somewhere on the way so now he’s gonna help too.” Rounding the corner she glimpsed the full extent of the damage. A fracture in Moya’s curved wall exposed the numerous cords and threaded pipes that twisted in the cavity behind the walls. A single cord like fibre hung out of the frayed hole, leaving a dampened mark on the wall as its contents seeped slowly down the wall and onto the floor, hissing as it pooled at Chiana’s feet.
“What a mess.” She whispered then raised her voice for Pilot to hear. “Ok, I’m here now Pilot. It doesn’t look to good.”
“I know.” He said slowly trying hard not to sound as if in pain, but, alas, failing miserably. “I have sent a DRD to give me a visual and so assist you in your task.” Moving slowly he cast his eyes over the display of the damage. “This could take some time, Chiana.”
~“John you disappoint me.”
Blackness.
“You’re a survivor.”
Heaviness…so tired…
“You can not let yourself succumb to this.”
Distortion.
“I need that wormhole technology.”
The weighted mask of lethargy consumed his being, pain pressed against his skull. Resistance was futile. Images of Scorpy flickered, undulating ripples, sharp flashes, blackness, consuming.
“You can not less this beat you. I can not allow that to happen.”
Slipping…Conscious thoughts an effort, so heavy…
“Fight it, John fight it.”
Suffocated, strangled in an ebony emptiness…
Resistance is futile.
Only option: submission.
End of Part Three!!!