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Aeryn continued to stare at the smashed data chip, the shock of what had just happened making her oblivious to everything going on around her. She had spent so much time trying to find John, convinced that everything would be all right once she did, but she had never envisioned this possibility. She felt beyond empty. John had always been the one who fervently believed that they belonged together, she hadn’t expected the tables to be turned in this manner.
She had no idea how long she had been sitting there, but when she finally stirred and looked around, her eyes were dry and itching. She rubbed them for a moment, then looked at the chaos that had continued around her, the constant racket unheard while she had hovered in her daze. She tried to envision what lay before her now, attempting to decide what to do next, but her mind didn’t want to consider her future. Returning to Moya and living in a cell so close to John’s empty one didn’t seem like an option to her, and Aeryn had no idea how she was going to explain this to the others.
She got to her feet and wandered around the outside of the station, frustration and anger growing inside her with each step, replacing the emptiness caused by his departure. She found her way blocked by a cart covered with engine parts and kicked it over, the contents smashing and rattling to the floor. She stepped into the scattered items and began kicking each one across the hangar, venting her fury. It took almost a hundred microts of violence against the inanimate objects before she slowed down and took a deep breath.
John was gone, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. He had the knowledge to figure out where Earth was, but even if she could get her hands on both the data and a Rhotarri ship, she couldn’t be sure that was where he was headed. The last time they’d stood together on Moya, he’d told her that he didn’t belong there anymore. Another engine component was sent sailing across the hangar, smashing violently into a wall and sending fragments skittering in several new directions. Work stopped all around her, the techs watching warily as she continued to stalk around the central station.
The expanding silence broke into her private world of anger, finally bringing her to a stop. She glanced around the building, her gaze passing over the mechanics who became suddenly busy with their work again. The noise level returned to its normal din as she turned and shook her head, silently apologizing to Gallenn. He nodded an acknowledgement but continued to watch her carefully, as if he were standing in close proximity to a dangerous animal. “I’m sorry,” she said in a controlled tone, and he began to relax as he returned to monitoring the displays around him.
“This is odd,” he mumbled, watching a message scroll across a screen.
Aeryn didn’t think it was really any of her business, but his short observation seemed to invite a response. “What is it?”
“I just received acknowledgement that we’ve …” he paused and corrected himself, “that I’ve been paid for the servicing on the courier ship.”
Aeryn had to think it though. “Then …”
“They picked it up themselves.”
“Then …” She couldn’t seem to make her mind work through it. She knew this was important, but the pieces were refusing to make sense. She looked up at Gallenn as the bits finally slid into place. “Then John didn’t leave on that ship.” He nodded, the first hint of a smile on his face.
“What other ships have left?” she stepped back into the island to watch what he was doing.
His grin widened. “None. He’s still here on the planet somewhere.”
“What about his module?”
Gallenn turned away from the displays to look at her, his smile weakening. “His what?”
“His module, his own ship. We have to stop him before he leaves.”
“John doesn’t have a ship.” He looked puzzled at her suggestion.
Aeryn felt an odd tightening in her stomach, something that made it harder to breathe for a microt. John had fought so hard for so long to keep the little pod intact in hopes of someday going home, it seemed inconceivable that he no longer had it. She wondered when he had become separated from it and how it had happened.
“How did he get here?” she asked, still trying to understand the life that John had been leading since they had separated on Moya.
“He pulled in here on a piece of garbage tramp freighter. He’d traded repairs for passage and had spent about the entire trip keeping the thing from falling apart in space. He jumped ship and it disintegrated the next time it engaged its Hetch Drive. He’s been here ever since.”
Aeryn thought about the message on the data chip. John had made it clear that he wasn’t going to be around for them to get back together. She ran through the message in her mind and realized he never said he was leaving, he had only said goodbye.
“Oh no,” she gasped. “He wouldn’t do that. John would never do that.”
“Do what?” Gallenn looked alarmed at her tone.
“He said goodbye. He wouldn’t … wouldn’t kill himself.” She looked at the person who now knew John Crichton better than she did, her expression pleading for confirmation. “Would he?” The same wave of nausea that had hit her when she’d heard John’s message rolled over her again. John had always been so strong, been able to cope with so much, she couldn’t envision him giving up in such an intrinsic manner.
“Is there some place he goes when he wants to be alone?” She latched on to a new sense of purpose, diverting her focus from her own sense of failure. She was responsible for setting off John’s reaction, now she had to find him before he did anything.
Gallenn thought about it for a while, then shook his head. “When he first got here the only place he ever went besides here and his home was the bar to get drunk. That stopped about a half cycle ago, and since then …” he was still thinking, rubbing his lower lip.
Aeryn staggered mentally. This was another image she would never have associated with John Crichton. She felt as if too many surprises were being piled on her at once. She took a deep breath and returned her attention to the most important task. She thought about the types of things John missed most about his home on Earth. “Some place outdoors?”
Gallenn clicked his tongue. “Got it! He hasn’t gone there in over a cycle either. Come to think of it, he stopped visiting there right about the same time he stopped drinking. Come on, I’ll show you.”
**********
It was night by the time Gallenn drew to a halt, but there was just enough starlight for Aeryn to make out a hulking piece of wreckage that had been left on the far edge of the compound surrounding the repair depot. It looked like a useless mass of twisted metal, but Aeryn heard a scrabbling noise beside her, and Gallenn turned on a handheld spotlight and played it over the enormous chunk of salvage.
It was an entire section of a Command Carrier. The exterior was shaggy with torn wiring, cables and conduits, and there were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of rooms open to the weather. She craned her neck to stare up at the highest reaches, but they disappeared into the dark well above the halo cast by the handlight. She wondered for a microt if this had come from the Command Carrier they had destroyed, but this planet was far from where that had happened, and it was unlikely that the wreckage had made it out here from that location.
“Come on, I’ll show you the way.” Gallenn started toward a ground level opening that led into the remains of a main corridor.
“You think he’s in here?” Aeryn asked. She couldn’t believe that John Crichton would ever seek refuge in any portion of a Peacekeeper ship.
“If he isn’t, then I have no idea where else to look for him. I’m willing to bet he’s in here though. Come on, I’ll show you.” Gallenn moved confidently into the corridor and began winding through the empty passageways. Aeryn could see nests and other signs that indigenous animals had taken up residence here. The spotlight illuminated a layer of dirt and dust that had blown in and coated every surface, minute particles reflecting the light in glittering patterns as they passed through one junction after another.
Once she got away from the twisted destruction along the outer edges of the section, Aeryn quickly got her bearings and knew where she was within the carrier. They were headed for one of the sections containing living quarters for the ship’s officers. She grabbed Gallenn’s arm and stopped him. “I know where I am now. Where did he used to go? Do you know the designation?”
Gallenn’s face was half illuminated by the light in his hand, turning it into a monochrome mask of shadows and disbelief. “You recognize where you are? How can you do that?”
“I was born and raised on a Command Carrier. I can find my way around one of these blindfolded.” She suppressed a wave of irritation and repeated her question. “What is the designation of the room?”
“Level ten, corridor five, lurg seven,” he said, skepticism plain in his voice.
“I’ll go the rest of the way on my own.” She squinted as he turned the light in her direction, felt the slow rise of irritation as he hesitated.
“But I only have one light.” He started to move forward again, but she caught his arm and pulled him back.
“I told you, I can do this blindfolded. I don’t need a light.” She waved him away, then waited through his indecision. “If John is in there, I think I should talk to him alone. If he isn’t, I can find my own way out.”
Gallenn looked up and down the corridor, considering her assurances, then finally started back the way they had come. “Nuts. He’s nuts, she’s nuts, they’re all nuts.” He made a hand signal, began repeating it as he disappeared into the dark, still chanting. “Nuts. They’re nuts. Don’t understand them, don’t want to cuz they’re nuts.”
Aeryn smiled as the irreverent voice faded into the dark, and understood, at least in part, why John had chosen to become partners with the Sebacean. She turned and began the careful journey to the quarters Gallenn had listed. He hadn’t warned her about any hazards inside the ship, so she hoped there weren’t any gaping holes in the floor or missing walls.
As she approached the specified corridor Aeryn could see a faint light spilling out of a doorway. She slowed, listening carefully, then stepped quietly through the forever open door. John was sitting on the bed in quarters that would have been assigned to a basic officer, someone like a pilot. He was turned sideways to the open door, staring at the empty wall. Aeryn examined the abandoned quarters thoroughly and couldn’t see a weapon anywhere. She relaxed slightly.
John turned to look at her as she stepped out of the tunnel-like connector between the two rooms and moved into the circle of light being cast by a portable lamp sitting on the floor. He didn’t say anything and turned away from her to continue staring at the wall. Aeryn moved forward to stand at the foot of the bed. The quarters been stripped of personal possessions long ago, and the mattress was cracked and covered with the ever present dust and grit.
“May I sit down?” He didn’t answer. Aeryn hesitated, uncertain how to proceed with the silent person in front of her and distracted by her concern for him. He had something in his hand, holding it hanging between his knees. “Is that Wynona?”
He looked down with something like amusement on his face for the first time. He lifted a bottle, half full of what was almost certainly some type of alcohol, and drank almost a third of what remained. If he intended to kill himself, he appeared to be trying to drink himself to death. John lowered the bottle, coughed slightly, and offered it to her. He swayed a bit, and Aeryn realized that he was already drunk. “No, thank you. I don’t drink anymore.” It wasn’t the statement she thought would break the wall, but somehow it did.
“Pardon me. The disciplined Peacekeeper, always in control. Not like the messy little Erp-man who does things in an erratic unpredictable manner. Excuse me for offering.” John took another long drink and looked at the almost empty bottle. “Forgot how this feels. Used to know exactly how to handle this. I’m out of practice.” He looked at her squarely, “Like my digs? Come into my pad and I’ll show you my etchings.” He began to laugh, but Aeryn didn’t understand the source of his humor.
“What are you doing here, John?” Aeryn was trying to see if he had some sort of weapon on the bed behind him, his goodbye message echoing in her mind.
“Used to like to come here. It made me feel closer to someone I missed. Stupid really. There’s more chance this place was used by Captain Bailar Crais than anyone I ever cared about.” He swayed again, righting himself with some difficulty.
Aeryn didn’t know how to handle this level of bitterness. Not only was he drunk and acting increasingly irrational, he was getting angry. She was becoming concerned for both her safety and his. “John, do you have Wynona with you?” She tried to keep her voice calm and even.
“Nope! Lost my baby about the same time I ditched the module. You should have been there for that. Never would have imagined the white death pod would burn so well. Flying fire trap all these cycles, and not a fire extinguisher in sight.”
Aeryn only understood a portion of his last sentence, but felt more at home as he slid into his untranslatable human phrases. It was the first familiar thing she had encountered aside from his stubbornness. “I’m sorry you lost the module.” She felt more regret than she had expected. She had always hated that ship, hated that it stood for John’s desire to go back to Earth, hated that it had no weapons, hated that it could get him killed. Now she felt his loss and hated it for being gone.
John mumbled something too quietly for her to hear.
“What did you say?” she asked, moving to sit down on the foot of the bed.
“I said BULLSHIT!” he yelled and she backed away from him. He continued more quietly, but no less angrily. “Aeryn, go away and leave me alone. I don’t want you here. Need proof? Here …” He pulled something out of his pocket and she saw that it was a lock of dark hair. She’d never seen it before, but she knew it was her own hair. He had lost the module, Wynona, every possession he’d acquired since coming to the Uncharted Territories, but he still had that. John was fumbling in another pocket for something else.
John tossed the lock of hair on the floor, poured the last of the alcohol over it and tossed an igniter into the puddle. The entire thing went up in a flash, the hair sparking and melting for a single microt and then it was gone. Aeryn moved back another step, shocked by his action in a way that words never could have accomplished.
“Go away, Aeryn. Get back in what ever ship you arrived in, and go away.”
Aeryn reached into a pocket in her tunic and pulled out the data chip with his message on it, tossed it onto the bed next to him, and turned to leave. She’d learned a lot about dealing with people over the past cycle, but this was beyond her capacity to cope. Something occurred to her and she paused before stepping through the opening from the sleeping area into the living space.
“Why didn’t you leave?” She looked back and he just shook his head. “At least tell me that before I leave. You said goodbye, John, why didn’t you go? Gallenn seemed to think you could have taken that courier ship, why didn’t you?”
He just shook his head again and turned away from her to stare at the wall. Aeryn sat down facing him, trying to understand what was happening, what had happened during the last several arns. She tried to mesh everything she’d seen and heard since finding him with the expectations she’d built up over the last cycle. She’d come so far to find him, and she couldn’t find a route across the last small gap.
“All right, Crichton.” He flinched when she used his family name. Aeryn could have kicked herself, it was so simple once she figured it out. She should have seen it sooner, much sooner. She’d made her mistake the first microts she’d found him. The microt he’d straightened up outside the courier ship was when she’d missed her opportunity.
“John, I’ve been looking for you for an entire cycle. I only came here to tell you one thing.” He turned his head a little and watched her out of the corner of his eye. “I love you, John Crichton. I love you and I want to be with you. You pick the planet, the universe, and I’ll go with you.”
He turned the rest of the way around to look at her directly, his face expressionless, slowly looking her over as she sat in the tunnel-like opening. “Just like that?” he asked quietly, the words coming out slowly as if each one were an effort. “You love John Crichton and you’ll stay with him forever?”
“Yes.”
Crichton looked at the empty bottle in his hand and finally tossed it with a clatter into a corner. “Then go find him, Aeryn, because he’s not on this planet. He disappeared a cycle and a half ago, and there’s only some tech named Latgah here now. That guy …” he swallowed hard and turned away from her. “That guy would have …” He stopped again and just shook his head. “Go away, Aeryn. I can handle you leaving now, it’s what I do best.” He turned his back on her, and fell silent.
Aeryn got to her feet and started to step through the connector to the living area, looking back one last time at the rigidly immobile figure facing the wall. She stared at him, willing him to turn around and give her any small sign that there was someway to break through the wall he had put up, but he didn’t move. She stood with one foot in the tunnel, one foot on the floor, and tried to think of something else she could use to convince him, but there didn’t seem to be anything left to say.
“Goodbye, John.” The words came out in a whisper because she couldn’t find the strength to make them any louder, they weren’t the words she had come here to say. John still didn’t turn, so she finally ducked through the opening and left him alone.
Aeryn was less than half way out of the maze when she was filled with the same frustrated rage that had overtaken her in the hangar when she thought John had left the planet. She gave into it the same way she had earlier, kicking at the unseen walls and pounding a fist against the overhead panels until one of them smashed loose, clattering to the floor in the dark. “Frell you, Crichton! Frell you for ever coming into my life!” She turned and hurried back through the dark. Before she left, she was going to at least tell him what she thought of all this.
As she approached the dimly illuminated doorway, Aeryn became aware of an odd noise drifting through the deserted corridor, something so quiet it was almost a touch rather than a sound. She froze in the dark, listening carefully to locate its source, then moving forward silently when she determined that it was coming from John’s dark haven. She eased past the edge of the door, then squatted outside the entrance, obscured in the dark of the corridor but able to see the bed. John was crying. He was sitting where she had left him, his head in his hands, the quiet sounds of his misery finding their way out into the stillness of the wrecked vessel.
In the three cycles they’d lived together on Moya, she had never seen this happen, not even during the worst of times. Aeryn’s first reaction was to go to him, but something held her back, an internal voice telling her to consider the proud, stubborn man who wouldn’t want her to see him like this. She remained where she was, watching and thinking of how far she had traveled to find him. Aeryn stood up slowly, took one more look at the huddled figure and slid quietly away into the dark.
