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"Uh, were we?" asked John, going along with the missed rendezvous premise. He twisted his head behind him and looked up and down the concourse. "I thought it was this end."
"We must have gotten turned around," D'Argo added. "We've been shopping for souvenirs," he continued, working in the opportunity for Tolgar, the rebel they had met before, to work in the code phrase.
"The Jumilla gems from the Marjan province are extremely beautiful. You should be sure to see them before you finish your shopping," he said.
John grunted at the reptilian-looking Ranidean and said, "We'll be sure to do that."
Formalities out of the way, Tolgar ushered the group back out onto the crowded streets, explaining in a low voice that they would take a walk through the city's famous water gardens, ostensibly on their way to a business meeting in one of the large office towers. The outdoor attraction would provide the opportunity to talk without being overheard.
As they walked through the gates, John stopped dead, awed in spite of his earlier blasé attitude. The water garden covered an area at least as large as a football field. It was composed of all manner of stone, supporting waterfalls and fountains ranging from the diminutive – no more than Rygel's height – to falls more than five stories high. Mist was everywhere, and the roar was astounding – but the overall effect was astonishing. "I'd hate to have their water bill," he deadpanned.
D'Argo ignored him out of long habit, but the three RugRats stared at him as if they should have understood his comment. John considered explaining, but just waved his hand at them and said, "Ah, never mind."
As they began to walk along the winding paths through the water sculptures, human and Luxan found that the acoustics of the place actually made conversation possible on the designated walkways.
The Hynerian patriots, as they thought of themselves, confirmed that they were within a few solar days, a weeken at most, of launching their simultaneous attacks against Bishan's few remaining supporters. They then expected to place the usurper under arrest without any opposition.
"We should have no trouble taking control," the frog-like Syrius told them calmly from where he rode, nearly at their head height. "Bishan has worn out his welcome through many, many cycles of brutal oppression. There will be a clear path for Rygel the XVI to return and resume his rightful place on the throne."
"We do not need to know the details," D'Argo pointed out. "It's better if we don't."
"Just make sure we know where and when, and we'll bring His Eminence," John agreed as they walked along.
"Did you bring the recording?" Tolgar asked.
"Yep," John said, pulling a vid chip out of his pocket and holding it on edge between two fingers.
The second Ranidean, who hadn't been introduced for security's sake, was appalled. "You have it *with* you?"
"Better than leaving it in our hotel room, don't you think?" D'Argo growled.
Syrius floated over and took the recording out of John's hands. "So, this is my grandfather's vid chip, eh?" he said.
"Sparky is your *grandfather*?" John said, startled into using the irreverent nickname he'd been avoiding when dealing with Rygel's loyal subjects. Despite all of Rygel's stories about his many, many offspring, it had never occurred to any of them on Moya that he might have descendents.
"Yes indeed," the Hynerian said proudly. "I've never met him, of course, but my father has told me stories."
"*We* could tell you stories," D'Argo began, but he stopped talking when a brilliant rainbow effect diverted them all. As they walked the angle of the sun changed, and so did the colors.
The beauty made them careless, and when they rounded the corner of a fountain with a base taller even than D'Argo, they were surprised to find two damp-looking white-furred Iridians standing in the path.
They reminded John of upright, albino opossums that had been caught in a sprinkler, but what really attracted his attention was the pulse pistols they were pointing at the party of conspirators. "Shi—" he began, and reached for Winona.
The taller of the two rodents let off a quick blast at their feet. At least, they hoped that he'd been aiming for their feet. If that was an accident, they were probably in trouble.
"The chip, please," the critter said, whiskers twitching. "We're not interested in you, but I'm sure Dominar Bishan's people will pay handsomely for that recording."
Ah, frell it, John thought, go for the unpredictable. Before anyone else could make a move, he snatched the vid chip from Syrius' hands, pulled one of the hollow plasticene figures of Bishan out of the bag he was carrying and shoved the chip through a hole in the bottom of the little idol. He tossed the figure underhand to D'Argo without looking to see that he caught it, and simultaneously dropped the bag onto Syrius's sled.
"Hey, Big D!" he called urgently, as a group of schoolchildren, apparently on a tour of the water gardens, appeared from the direction they had come in. "Toss it back here!"
D'Argo complied, though the look on his face suggested he thought Crichton was completely fahrbot.
The Iridians twitched in fury as the group of children swarmed by, but refrained from waving their guns around.
Taking advantage of the chaos, John tossed the figure of Bishan to Tolgar, who promptly tossed it back, while the would-be thieves tried to keep their eyes on the moving target.
John caught D'Argo's eye and nodded imperceptibly towards the second of Syrius's bodyguards. Then he tossed the figure once again to his Luxan friend, this time in an overhand throw that only the human recognized as a football pass.
The children were nearly past them, and out of the corner of his eye, John could see the Iridians beginning to lose patience with the lunacy. He gave D'Argo his "hurry up!" look.
When the Luxan tossed the figure towards his designated target, John leaped to intercept, "fumbled," and the figure flew towards the Hynerian's sled and landed back in the bag with a thud. John landed on his knees next to the sled.
One of the would-be robbers moved in and waved his pulse pistol in John's face. "The vid chip. Now!" he demanded.
With a great show of reluctance, John reached into the bag and came up with the figure of Bishan in his hand.
"Give it to me!" the opossum said shrilly. "Now!"
John looked down at the figure in his hand with great sorrow. He sighed. "All right, you've got the gun," he said, and reluctantly held his hand out.
The Iridian thief snatched the figure out of John's hand, and he and his companion turned tail and ran as fast as they could.
D'Argo stepped over and gave John a hand up. "You switched it," he said gruffly. "Didn't you?"
John widened his eyes in a huge self-satisfied grin and he nodded yes.
The Luxan shook his head, and John casually reached into the bag and pulled out the second figure. Holding Dominar Bishan in one hand, he slung the bag over his other shoulder and said, "I think we better go. I can get the chip out with some tweezers or something when we're someplace safer." He started down the path in the direction the children had gone, holding the plasticene figure up to his ear and rattling it contentedly.
D'Argo and three very annoyed RugRats followed him.
"Is he always like that?" Tolgar asked D'Argo.
"Yes," the Luxan replied briefly.
"I didn't realize he was insane."
"Insane, Human, it's all the same," D'Argo told him. "But his plans usually work. The crazier the better."
"Well, take him home and keep an eye on him," Rygel's grandson said. "We're counting on you two to bring the new Dominar. We're banking on your reputation."
"I believe," D'Argo told him, "that you have just seen that reputation demonstrated."
* * * * * * *
Aeryn woke up to a cheerful sing-song sound in the bed next to her. She was wearing one of John's T-shirts and a pair of his underwear. She rolled over and propped her head up on one hand, focusing her eyes on her son, who was sitting next to her dismantling the toy he'd brought to bed with him the night before. "Well, you seem to be feeling better," she said with a smile. "I think we both slept all night, didn't we?"
TJ gave his mother a goofy grin and handed her a piece of the shape puzzle in his hand. She took it from him and continued to examine him with satisfaction. His new teeth were finally most of the way through his gums, and consequently, he had slept soundly. Aeryn had gotten her first good night's sleep in nearly a weeken, and the whole universe was looking brighter to her.
She reached out and brushed the baby's hair out of his face. He pulled his head out of her reach, then put his thumb on his chin. "Do you have any idea how much you look like your father when you do that?" Aeryn said, smiling. Truth be told, TJ had her raven hair, but otherwise, his features were those of John Crichton.
No wonder Jack Crichton kept dropping not-so-veiled hints about TJ's parentage.
She wondered why she had been so reluctant to confirm what he suspected. "Lack of sleep," she snorted. "Your brain turns off and your emotions rule! No wonder Peacekeepers keep breeding and soldiering separate!"
TJ looked at her curiously. "Peek?" he asked, handing her another piece of his toy.
"Never mind," she told him. "That's the only thing they did that made sense. And I doubt your father would agree even with that."
The boy looked up sharply towards the door. "Da?" he asked hopefully.
"Today, I think," Aeryn told him. "They're supposed to be back today. Which means back in your own room tonight," she smiled. "Come on, then, let's get ourselves dressed, and we'll go have breakfast. Pilot must have let us sleep in."
TJ slid off the bed, trailing brightly-colored shape pieces and made a dash for the door. "Go gak!" he said. "Eat!"
"Not yet," she said, grabbing him from behind and pulling him to her chest. She told him, "Clothes first." Before he could start pulling things from her drawers, she'd stripped and dressed him, and changed her own clothes. She didn't bother pulling her hair back into her customary ponytail.
"Go gak *now,*" she told him, and they headed for the galley, TJ alternately walking and running short bursts.
They weren't as late as she'd feared. Everyone was still eating breakfast, and Rygel hadn't had time to finish off the leftovers, so she was able to conjure up plates for the two of them quickly.
It didn't hurt her good mood any that during breakfast Pilot informed the group that he had received the anticipated signal from John and D'Argo, and that they expected to rendezvous with Moya later that day.
Chiana was happily looking forward to having D'Argo back in her bed, and Rygel was anxious for news of the meeting with his followers. It was going to be an interesting day. The humans had become used to Chiana, Jool and even Rygel and Pilot, but Aeryn suspected D'Argo would be a stretch, if the presence of the long-presumed-dead John Crichton didn't overwhelm them. Jack was already showing signs of nervousness, and Ron was trying to divert him.
In unspoken agreement with Ron, after the meal Aeryn suggested that she and the humans continue to work on the humans' ship, as they had been doing for the past two days. Ron had worked heavily with the Earth engineers on the project and understood the design fairly well. Aeryn had cycles of experience with John's module, and was his principal assistant. Jack, primarily a pilot, contributed what he could when he could, and spent time getting to know TJ, under the guise of keeping the baby out of harm's way.
Because it was easier than avoiding questions she didn't want to answer, since the humans had arrived Aeryn had been telling stories about John's early monens on Moya, and time spent working on his Farscape module. The simple things, the easy things. Today, helping Ron replace and reconnect one of the fuel lines which had apparently been damaged in their rough passage through the wormhole, she was explaining how John had taught her how to do tech work, maintenance on her prowler.
She leaned forward to hand a tool to Ron, and saw out of the corner of her eye that Jack was looking at her once again with conjecture in his eyes. Now what? The human walked towards her, and from his slow, deliberate movement, so much like his son's when he was determined to get an answer, she knew he wasn't going to let it go.
Jack stood in front of her, looking her up and down. For a brief moment, he glanced back at TJ, who was happily playing with some magnets on a piece of sheet metal. "Are you and John. . . ." he began, trailing off as if trying to find the right word.
Aeryn knew the difficulty. She had it herself. But she wasn't about to help him because she was still hoping he would wait for John.
But his jaw was set in a way that looked all too familiar, and when she didn't respond, he asked finally, "Are you together?"
Aeryn gave him a rueful smile. She might have been considering confirming his suspicions about TJ, but there were so many other things she didn't want to get into. "It's up to John to tell you these things. Pilot says he'll be here soon."
Three days of frustration and wondering finally got the better of him. "Aeryn, that baby is the spitting image of John as a little guy, except John's hair was lighter. If my son is his father, I deserve to know!"
"TJ has my hair," she said stubbornly. But then she shook her head and relented. "He is your grandson," she told him.
Jack looked at her for a moment, oozing the satisfaction of having her admit what he had suspected from the first day. "Was that so hard to say?" he asked gently.
Aeryn looked back at him, thinking, before saying, "John would have wanted to see the expression on your face when you found out. It's been hard for him, not being able to share the good things with you."
Jack found her phrasing, with its unspoken hint of bad things, oddly unsettling, but he let her explanation go without comment. "How are the repairs coming?"
Gratefully, she gave him a rundown on what still needed to be done.
* * * * * * *
With nothing to do while D'Argo piloted his ancient Luxan ship on the final leg of their trip back to Moya, John was becoming antsy. He couldn't stand doing nothing, but this ship's insistence on DNA activation meant he was reduced to a passenger whether he liked it or not. He finally reached behind him for his duffle and removed the plasticene figure of Rygel's rival, Bishan.
D'Argo spared him a sympathetic glance when he started tossing the figure from hand to hand. "I'm sure TJ will enjoy that," the big Luxan told his friend.
"Too bad we lost the other one," John said. "Ryg is going to want one to pull the eyebrows off of, or something. . . ."
D'Argo's rough grunt came out more like a laugh. "Do you really think the RugRats will be able to keep those thieves from alerting Bishan to the plans?"
John shrugged and tossed the figure again. "The possums? Who knows? They said they had them in protective custody before we left."
"They will probably kill them," D'Argo warned. "That is the practical thing to do."
The human sighed, knowing his friend was probably right. "Well, there's nothing we can do about that."
They were silent for a few microts. "I'm really going to be glad to get back to Moya," John said. "I can't believe how much I miss Aeryn and the kid."
"I can," D'Argo told him. "You're lucky to have them."
"Lucky beyond belief," John said, remembering both D'Argo's own lost family, and the despair he'd felt when Aeryn had left him after the raid that destroyed Scorpius' command carrier.
Enough. He was getting broody again. Cut the crap, John, he thought. The past is the past. He shook his head to clear the gloom and punched D'Argo on the arm. "Well, hell, I bet Chiana's got plans for you for tonight. . . ."
"Oh, like Aeryn doesn't have plans for you?" D'Argo responded in kind, equally glad for the diversion.
They snickered at each other for a few moments until something in the distant blackness of space caught John's attention. "Hey, D," he said, pointing. "What's that? That's not Moya, is it? 'Cos something's really wrong if it is."
D'Argo looked out the front viewscreen, at a twinkling blue light, and then down at his instruments. "No," he said decisively. "It is *near* Moya, but it is *not* Moya."
Fidgety, John called up the comm channel and tried to reach Pilot even though they were just barely in range. They had just made a static-laced connection when John looked back at the mysterious object again, and everything clicked.
"What the—" John began. He punched the comm controls and yelled, "Pilot! That's a wormhole out there! What's happening? Is everyone okay?"
Pilot's voice crackled over the comm. "Everything is fine, Commander, we are not in any difficulty."
"Not in any difficulty," John muttered under his breath. "Aeryn!" he called. "Aeryn, is everything okay there?"
In the maintenance bay, his query came through on Aeryn's comm. Jack looked up, taken aback by the voice he hadn't heard in five years. "John?" he mouthed, looking at her.
Aeryn broke into a huge grin despite the stress in John's voice. "Everything's fine, John! Truly."
"Truly?" he asked, still alarmed.
"Truly," she promised him. "We have visitors I know you'll want to see. Just come on in, and I'll meet you in the docking bay."
"Hell," John muttered under his breath, but, at least somewhat reassured by the tone of her voice, he only said, "If you say so, Babe. We'll be there as soon as D'Argo can land this tin can."
Aeryn smiled again and rounded up Jack, Ron and TJ and headed for the docking bay.
