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*******************************************************
John leaned against the doorway and said quietly, "May I come in?"
"Please...enter."
Looking up from the command carrier schematics he brought from Talyn’s libraries, Crais still registered slight shock at seeing Crichton at all. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider dealing with Crichton as anything other than the cause of his brother’s death, the end of his career, and so much of Aeryn’s pain. But he knew better than that now. He knew Crichton would face death for his beliefs and his comrades. Still, to see him standing there...alive...
"Look," John said. "I’ve had this idea kickin’ around in my head, and I need to know some things. I would ask Aeryn, but...she...I can’t." John looked off in the distance and grimaced.
"Right. Go ahead," Crais waited.
"What did you do with my...with the other John’s body?"
Crais moved away from the console, putting the film down. He was slightly taken aback.
"He is in a cryo pod aboard Talyn at the moment. Aeryn wasn’t willing to give you...him...a Peacekeeper burial. We weren’t sure of your customs so we..."
"Deep freeze."
"Yes."
John walked past Crais, nodding slowly to himself. With his back to him, John said, "Good. I think we’re going to need him."
At first, Crais thought that Crichton had gone completely insane. "We cannot bring him back from the dead...you are aware of that?"
"What?! No! That’s the last thing I want to do. Way too Stephen King for me..." John ran his hand through his hair trying to keep down the shiver that was climbing up his neck.
"What do you want him for then?"
John turned to face Crais.
"Well...here’s the thing...Scorpius doesn’t know I was twinned. Right? He doesn’t know there is only one of me left. If we can convince him that I am out of his reach for good, then we have an edge on him, yes?"
Crais, pacing—hands behind his back, was silent for a moment. They needed whatever advantage they could gain against a fully armed, fully manned Peacekeeper Command Carrier. "Go on."
"Once we find the carrier, we send him the body as proof that I am dead. He thinks that we are no longer a threat of any kind. And we aren’t an asset either. We’re nothing. Nada."
"Yes, yes, I see your point. He would not expect trouble from us later on. His guard would be down, so to speak."
"Bingo. I knew you would understand." John gave a quick nod then glanced at Crais. "I need something else from you." John looked Crais in the eyes hoping that his next idea would be as accepted.
"What is it?"
"I need you to talk to Aeryn about it. She has to be OK with this. I won’t hurt her anymore than I already have...or do. I know that if it were me in the Frigidaire...well, hell, it IS me in there...I would want to know that I didn’t die for nothing and that the people I love were safe...always."
At that moment, Crais would rather he had asked for anything else...his brother’s life, his career, even Talyn. He just couldn’t bear the thought of being a party to more pain for Aeryn.
"I know, I know," John said. "What if she kills the messenger, right? I would talk to her myself about it, but she would think I’m being...heartless...disrespectful. And these days, she barely makes eye contact or small talk. But you, Crais," John put his hand on Crais’ shoulder, "you know what she is going through and I think she knows you don’t want to hurt her. But you saw what that wormhole knowledge is capable of doing and you understand the situation we are in. You can convince her this is right and that it is what he would have wanted. It’s what I would want."
Crais simply nodded. What else could he do? Every other plan was foolhardy at best, sacrificial at the worst. This one at least had a glimmer of hope. He would do it.
*****************************
"No, no, NO! I won’t allow it."
"Aeryn. You must be reasonable about this. We have little advantage as it is."
"Reasonable? You call sending John’s body to his enemy reasonable? Is this some sort of crazy human ritual I’m unaware of?"
Crais could see the fire in Aeryn’s eyes as he tried to explain to her the merits, few though they were, of this plan. She stood there, arms crossed, frown firmly in place, waiting for his answer.
"At first, no, I did not think it reasonable. But you must listen. Scorpius will think that John is dead. He may even believe that Talyn and I are dead, too, if Xhalax kept her promise. This gives us the ability to go undetected, unnoticed."
Aeryn remained unmoved, suspicious. "To do what?"
Crais, snapped to attention and began walking around Aeryn as if inspecting her. "Officer Sun, need I remind you that to wage a successful campaign, you need reconnaissance? We can use the proof of John’s death as a means to infiltrate and find out how much Scorpius knows and where he keeps the data."
Aeryn’s arms dropped to her sides and she closed her eyes, letting out a brief sigh. Frelling Peacekeeper tactics. She knew it was right, knew HE was right. Straightening up again, she ran her hand over her hair and down her braid. She adjusted her pulse pistol in its holster. "Fine. We will send John’s body to Scorpius."
"Thank you."
Crais turned and left Aeryn alone in her quarters where she sunk down to the floor and contemplated losing John yet again.
************************************************
"Come on, Pip, wait!" John was half trotting behind her as she headed towards the galley.
"Give it a rest, Crichton."
John caught up with Chiana, grabbing her elbow and turning her towards him just as she reached the doorway to the galley—she could see D’Argo following behind him. "Look, Chiana, it’s not like we’re asking you to go hang out at the mall all day with Jool. This is really important."
"Humph. Like I would want to spend an extra microt with that tralk..." Jool huffed as she stood up quickly, rattling her dishes. "And I would thank you not to talk about me like I’m not here."
John closed his eyes and tapped his fist on his forehead. "Sorry...Jool...I didn’t mean it that way...Jool?"
She brushed past them, strands of curly red hair floating on the air in her wake.
"Way to go, Crichton." Chiana rolled her eyes and pulled away from his grasp. D’Argo entered the room with John and sat down across from Chiana who had gathered a small dish of food cubes. It had been a while since they hit a commerce planet with anything other than military supplies.
"Chiana," D’Argo said using his most persuasive tone. "You are the only person who can do this successfully. Scorpius has no reason to keep you, and you know how to sneak around better than anyone. And you will be there for one solar day—no more. We have no other option without your help."
Chiana popped a food cube in her mouth and looked at them blandly.
"When are you going to see that we all have to help if we are to succeed?" D’Argo asked, his patience already thinning.
"I thought this was John’s path." Chiana retorted.
John’s head dropped, his hands covered his face. "Yeah, Chiana, it is. And I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that would put you in any real danger."
"Right. Going on a Peacekeeper Command Carrier to spy isn’t the least bit dangerous. What are you frelling fahrbot?"
Chiana looked from John to D’Argo and back at John again. She could tell D’Argo was trying very hard not to lean over the table and throttle her. His knuckles were white and his eyes narrowed with frustration. John just looked tired. The dark circles under his eyes and the stubble on his face made him seem older than she had ever noticed. She didn’t really want to deny him help, but she also didn’t want to see him end up like the other John either.
John leaned forward, searching her face and said, "Chiana, do you know what the Peacekeepers will do with the information once they figure out how to use it? They are going to frell everyone that gets in their way. That includes the Nebari."
Chiana snorted and tossed the foodcube she was about to bite into back on the plate. "I don’t give a frell about the Nebari."
"No?" John questioned. "Do you think they are going to distinguish between the Stepford Wives and the James Deans? Do you honestly believe that they’ll ask for Nerri to leave first so they can do their dirty work?"
"Nerri..." Chiana blanched and the fear of losing her brother overtook her again.
D’Argo reached across the table and covered Chiana’s trembling hand with his. Chiana slowly pulled it away, and said, somewhat defeated, "You win, old man. I’m in. What’s your plan?"
**************************************************************
She hadn’t been down there since before he died in her arms. Aeryn had watched helplessly as Stark and Crais had carried John’s body away, still covered in the red blanket they shared. They had taken him to the med bay to initiate the cryogenic process to keep him until they found Moya again, and then they placed him in the cryo pod stored at the back of the cargo bay. It was hard not to think of him back there alone in the dark—it was even harder to think of jettisoning his body into cold space. But now, she would have preferred he was floating millions of metras away than used as a decoy to fool Scorpius, whom she secretly doubted could be deceived at all.
"Lights, please, Talyn"
As Aeryn walked through the doors of the cargo bay, soft lights diffusing the metallic sterility of the room preceded her. Empty provision crates and replacement parts for Talyn’s weaponry lined the walls, but the room was basically empty. Talyn rarely hauled any cargo. She took a deep breath and another hesitant step toward her destination.
Reaching out slowly, she touched the slick gray hydrohonium chamber, and ran her hands across the top, feeling the coldness in her soul. Green lights flickered along the regulator panel letting her know John was still safely in his frozen state. Aeryn leaned over and touched her forehead to where John’s head was underneath all those layers of steel and insulate.
This is not what I wanted for you...for us, she thought. But I suppose you had other plans as well.
Aeryn took another deep breath. I won’t let that bastard keep you, John. I will make sure of that myself, she vowed silently. Touching the purely mechanical vessel, she found it hard to believe that her flesh-and-blood John could be in there.
She moved along the length of the cryo pod, never taking her hand from it. I will see to it you are buried according to your custom. I cannot take you back to Earth, but when this mission is over, I will take you to the Royal planet and bury you so you can at least be near your daughter. She may never know, but I’ll know.
Despite the emptiness around her, Aeryn could still feel John’s presence, and took comfort that she hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to just be near him. It was as if she was picking up on an unfinished conversation about the things they would accomplish together. You...well, the other you, has a plan. He’s probably going to get us all frelling killed. Aeryn smiled to herself and raised an eyebrow. But I would expect nothing less.
Silence surrounded her, but Aeryn felt the heaviness of her heart lighten for the first time in weekens. "I do miss you, John Crichton," she admitted aloud, listening to the words echo in the empty bay. "I will always love you." And one of these days I will find you again, she added quietly to herself.
She didn’t have much time left. D’Argo would be here within the arn to bring John’s body to Moya’s transport pod. She didn’t want them to know she had been there. If she didn’t leave now, she doubted she could let them go through with this plan.
Closing her eyes to hold back the tears beginning to fall, Aeryn pressed her lips against the door then straightened up. Before she turned to leave, with one last caress, she tried to say good-bye, but something inside her rejected that idea completely. We’ve never said good-bye before, and I won’t say it now. Fate will bring us back together like always.
************************************
“Sir, you are needed in command.” Scorpius looked up from his work analyzing the incomplete equations upon hearing the request.
“Is there a problem, Braca?”
“I really think you should see this yourself, sir.”
Braca was not one to waste his time with trivialities. “Very well.”
When he reached command, he did not need explanation for his summons. He waved off Braca who had begun to brief him of the situation.
“Ah...Ka D’Argo...this IS a surprise.”
The Luxan’s grim image filled the view screen. Surely, he looked imposing to some species, Scorpius observed. D’Argo wasted no time getting to his point for communicating with Scorpius.
“Crichton is dead. His last request was to make it known to you, so, as he said, you would leave us all the frell alone. It is my pleasure to oblige.”
“Dead you say?” Scorpius responded, the skepticism evident with each word.
“I do not lie. Especially not about something as serious as this. He knew you wouldn’t believe it on word alone, so he requested we send you his body for one solar day as proof.”
“How... may I ask...did Crichton die?”
“Moya’s radiation filters malfunctioned and his human physiology was unable to withstand it.”
“Very unfortunate.”
Under his façade of disinterest, Scorpius’ mind raced trying to think of another way to unlock the wormhole information. The neuro chip: destroyed; John Crichton: dead. And he only had part of the information he needed to complete his research and destroy the Scarren race in its entirety.
Ka D’Argo interrupted his thoughts. “We are sending the Nebari girl on a transport pod with the body now. You should be picking her up on your scanners shortly. We expect the both of them back tomorrow. That should give you enough time to see we are not lying.”
“Yes...We shall see about that.”
Within three arns, Scorpius and Braca, along with several armed Peacekeepers and a group of Techs met the transport pod in the docking bay of the command carrier. The Nebari climbed down the ladder to the platform and turned to Scorpius and his men who held their pulse rifles at the ready. Nonplused, she sauntered over and stood before them, hands on her hips, long coat swaying slightly from side to side in time with the motion of her head as she took in the scene. She pointed toward the transport pod. “You don’t expect me to carry him down MYSELF, do you?”
“Hardly.” Scorpius waved his men forward to retrieve Crichton’s body. He turned again to the Nebari as she began to walk towards the corridor to the main area of the carrier. Scorpius caught her by the arm, stopping her. “I think it would be in your best interest to stay here...until I tell you otherwise.”
Chiana’s eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to one side. “You know what, Scorpy? I just spent four arns on a transport pod, alone, with the body of my dead friend. And I have to do it again tomorrow. I want a drink and there’s got to be a bar around here somewhere.”
Scorpius’ leather-clad hand tightened its grip around her upper arm making her wince.
“Young girl...you will stay until I give you leave. Until I am sure that this is not a trick.”
“Oh, it’s not a trick,” Chiana said as Scorpius released her from his grasp.
The cryo pod was lowered from the transport’s small cargo area to the platform and brought before Scorpius. Swarming around the pod, the team of techs began a thorough scan of it to make sure there were no explosives or hidden devices. Once the Techs assured him it was clear of all weapons, he quickly punched a couple of the buttons on the regulator panel then a loud hiss began to emanate from the pod. Chiana turned her head away, closing her eyes as an extra precaution, as the door opened and Crichton’s body was revealed. Scorpius noted that there was certainly no energy signature evident, and he had the look of someone who had been exposed to radiation. Still, he wanted to be sure.
“Take this back to the lab. Braca, bring the girl to the Officer’s Lounge for her drink. Do not let her out of your sight.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hey, I don’t need a babysitter!”
The Techs rolled the cryo pod past Chiana and Braca with Scorpius close behind, and as he passed Chiana she heard a low growl come from him and was met with an icy glare. She leaned back trying to put some more space between them, but bumped into Braca instead. She watched as the team traveled down the corridor to her right and turned right again into a room a few metras away. Braca put his hand at her back and nudged her forward towards the opposite corridor.
“The officer’s lounge is this way,” he directed her.
*********************************************
Upon entering the lab, Scorpius dismissed the Techs and opened up the cryo pod again. Crichton had been dead and frozen for too long—there was nothing he could possibly salvage from his brain that may still hold a link to unlocking the rest of the knowledge he so desperately sought.
“Now that is a damn shame. Damn shame. You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could ya, Scorpy?” John’s neural clone stood next to Scorpius, shaking his head in disgust. “Didja have to kill me?”
Scorpius looked over his shoulder, reflecting his own disgust at seeing John’s uncooperative clone—he was dressed in a black Peacekeeper duster that was open enough to reveal an ineffective pulse pistol.
“I...did not kill you, John.”
Crichton’s clone patted Scorpius on the shoulder. “Guess I’m not so…unique…anymore.”
Scorpius could feel his body temperature beginning to rise and turned his back to both Johns. He closed his eyes for a moment to focus on gaining control over his thoughts. The Crichton clone was just a byproduct of the chip and his sudden rage at having his only remaining resource destroyed by some foolish Leviathan. All he needed to do was to cool down. To...persuade...the neural clone that he HAD to help Scorpius succeed in his plan.
Scorpius turned back around to face John. He smiled smugly and gestured toward the body. “This...is just a minor setback. I have what I need,” he said, tapping his head, “right here.”
Crichton’s clone clapped his hands then rubbed them together. “Great! Then you won’t need me. I’ve had enough of your ugly mug anyway.”
“You fail to understand, John, that I control you. You are here because…I wish it,” Scorpius said.
“No, I’m here because you...are...stuck. You are stuck and you need ME to finish the job. Well, buck-o, not gonna happen.” John crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at Scorpius who was now looking down at the dead Crichton.
“Look,” the clone said, “Why don’t you just do to me what you did to him? Kill me. Free me. Put me out of my misery. Turn me loose. Whatever. Just...let...me...go.”
“Ah, but John, where would you go?”
Crichton threw open his arms, looked at the ceiling, and laughed, “Oh, I dunno...Maybe the seventh level of HELL? I hear it’s nice this time of year, and it’s got to be better than being trapped in the mind of Norman Bates!”
“As long as I’m alive, John, you will be at my command.”
“Right.” The word hadn’t left his mouth before he vanished from Scorpius’ sight.
Fury engulfed Scorpius at the clone’s blatant disobediance. Rushing through the spot where Crichton’s clone had been standing, he slammed his fists over and over against the window separating the computers in the data/observation room from the adjoining hangar. Glass exploded around and beyond Scorpius. Crystaline flecks gently rained down on the dead Crichton’s peaceful face.
Scorpius slammed down the pod cover and yelled, “I AM NOT FINISHED WITH YOU!”
********************************************************************
Braca was an easier target than she expected. After Chiana’s second drink, she feigned drunken tiredness and convinced him to let her bring a bottle of raslak back to his quarters where she could finish getting drunk and then sleep it off before her return to Moya. After all, he wasn’t allowed to take his eyes off her, and this way, they could both follow orders. Looking more than uncomfortable at the prospect of having this alien in his quarters, he could not take the chance of her doing something to get him killed by way of dereliction of duty.
His quarters were small and modestly furnished for a high-ranking officer. Unlike his former Captain, he had no trophy heads, no artwork, no adornments to speak of or give the room anything that could be considered character. Everything in this room was standard issue—the bed was covered with the black sheets and gray blanket every other Peacekeeper on board had. His desk, on the opposite wall from the bed, was neatly arranged; not a paper out of place and the tray with the drinking glasses had a light coating of dust. His time was not used for socializing anymore. He was rarely in his quarters anyway.
The only bright spot of color anywhere in the room was the small display hanging on the wall over his bed of commission medals in a case bearing the red, white, and black Peacekeeper symbol as its background. Every possible good conduct commendation—from Cadet to Lieutenant—was represented in the lineup of medals, but he was most proud of his medal for bravery at the battle of Kiadar. Almost 10 cycles ago he had saved a superior officer, garnering him an immediate promotion as well as a reputation for unwavering loyalty.
Braca cringed as the Nebari flopped down on his bed, tipped back the bottle of raslak, and drank deeply. He could see some of the liquid running down her chin, dripping onto his bed. She stopped drinking, giggled, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She was unlike any female he had ever encountered.
“You look like you need a drink too, Braca. Workin’ for Scorpy getting you down?”
“My work is nothing I care to discuss with you.” She was right though; he needed a drink. The work on the wormhole research didn’t allow for much time off or away from Scorpius. The half-breed was driven and it was Braca’s duty to stay with him and make sure no one disturbed him. This was the first time since the testing began that he was away from Scorpius at all. A drink would suit him just fine.
Chiana rose from the bed and practically skipped over to the table where she poured Braca a drink. She smiled and waved the half-full glass at him, tempting him to drink it. He only waited for a moment before taking it and gulping it down. He began to inform the Nebari that she would be sleeping on the bed while he sat at his desk, but barely another moment passed and he collapsed to the floor.
Jool had told Chiana the...what was it that Crichton called it? A meekee?...would work quickly and last about four arns. That was all she needed. She dragged Braca over to the chair behind the desk and hauled him up to a sitting position with his head resting on the desk itself. She took off his ident chip and slipped it into the bodice of her clothing. She needed to find her way back to the transport pod quickly.
Thankfully the night cycle had begun and Chiana was able to duck easily into doorways or storage rooms avoiding sentires with little effort. She reached the docking bay and hid behind a Marauder until the first guard shift passed her by on their way to check the next line of vehicles. She scurried around, shadowing them until she reached Moya’s transport pod. Aeryn had Chiana hit her with a kill shot just before they had been scanned by the Carrier, and then revived her as soon as was possible. She had hidden in a crawlspace under the floor while the soldiers came to take John’s body and now she was waiting somewhat patiently for Chiana to give her the ident chip.
Chiana handed Aeryn Braca’s chip triumphantly. She smiled at Aeryn and said quietly, “Piece of cake!”
In a hushed whisper, Aeryn said, “Good work, Chiana. I’m going to set up the vid link as soon as the guard shift changes. That gives you a half arn to return to Braca’s quarters so that we aren’t caught together. You just make sure that John’s body gets back on this pod and returns to Moya safely. Do not wait for me. I will find my way back once I’m sure that everything is working correctly.”
A flash of panic struck Chiana. “That’s not part of the plan, Aeryn. I can’t return to Moya without you. John would never forgive me.”
“If I don’t stay, Chiana, and make sure his frelling plan works, we’ll all be dead. Would you prefer that?”
“No, not really.” Chiana reached out and touched Aeryn’s shoulder. “You better make it back though. Without you, John is really unpleasant. Take it from me...”
“Yes, well, I will do my best. Now, get going.”
Aeryn watched as Chiana wove her way back through the maze of Prowlers, transports, and Marauders. She made sure Chiana got out sight safely and watched the route she used so that she, too, would be unseen by the guards. That girl has a gift, she thought to herself after losing sight of Chiana.
Aeryn waited another quarter arn before changing into a Tech uniform. Not so long ago, she would have punched John out for suggesting she put on the uniform, but now, after being helped by Gilina’s skills down on the Gammak base, she knew the real importance of Tech work. And the longer she spent time on Moya and Talyn helping to maintain their systems, Aeryn actually grew to like it. Not only that, she was good at it.
She grabbed the Tech tool bag and stuffed some light provisions in a pocket and climbed down from the transport and zigzagged her way through the docking bay and into the carrier’s main corridor. From there she had to blend in to get through passageways and staircases that were lightly guarded. She hadn’t recognized anyone so far—more important, no one recognized her—and she hoped that trend would continue until she could find a safe place to hide.
Among her own people in surroundings where she was raised to feel comfortable, Aeryn felt...unnatural. As out of sorts as she was at having to share living space with the other John, she still felt more at home in the warm glow of Moya’s bronzed curved arches--even Talyn’s sleek blend of Peacekeeper technology and Leviathan personality was more agreeable. He at least made the sounds of a living being. This place was cold, unfeeling, unforgiving. With great relief, Aeryn reached the circuitry room on level 8 and used Braca’s ident chip to enter. No one was generally here unless there was a malfunction, and from the lack of Techs anywhere, all seemed well.
Crais had shown her on the schematics where the grids were for the rooms they needed to watch, and John instructed her on how to patch in the cables to the remote device without causing interference to the signal someone might be monitoring. The device would allow for a link from the surveillance equipment on the carrier to Talyn. Pilot had helped John come up with a comms-like mechanism—like a laser link—so that the signal could not be detected. Normally they would only have an audio link, but with Talyn’s video capabilities, they were able to combine the two. It took her about half an arn to make sure she had everything hooked up to the proper rooms. As soon as Crais and John returned to Talyn, they would be able to look into Scorpius’ quarters and the lab.
Upon completing the last cable hook up, Aeryn looked around half waiting to hear John say, “Way to go, baby,” but was met with the hum and flickering lights of the circuit board. The other John was not the least bit happy with her doing the job by herself. It took both Crais and D’Argo to convince him he didn’t need to be there, that he would only be in the way. She had stood by, not speaking a word, wishing him to go with her one moment and in the next moment wishing he would just go away. If pressed, she would have told him he was a liability to his own plan, but it never came to that and she could go another microt without hurting him more.
What she needed now was a safe place to hide for several arns until she could be sure that Chiana returned to Moya safely. Then she could contact Crichton and Crais to see if the link worked. She was tired and already weary of being in confined spaces.
*************************************
“Commander Crichton?”
“Yes, Pilot. What is it? Are Aeryn and Chiana back?”
“Well, that’s just it. Moya’s scanners are only picking up one life form aboard the transport pod. I believe it is Chiana.”
John slammed his hand down on the hull of the Farscape 1 module. Damn it, he cursed to himself. What is she doing? Abruptly, he turned away from his routine maitenance on the module and charged down the corridor toward Command. “Pilot! Get me Chiana…NOW!”
“Commander, have you forgotten that the laser link comms are with Officer Sun and Talyn? We cannot risk your voice being heard by Scorpius. We are too close to the command carrier.”
Stopping short, John replied, “No, Pilot, I haven’t forgotten.” He rested his hands on his hips and looked up, silently praying that he hadn’t gotten Aeryn killed. Or worse. Again. “Who’s frelling idea was this anyway?” John mumbled, growing more irritated with himself by the microt.
“Yours, Commander,” came Pilot’s earnest voice.
With a nod and a wry smile, John said, “Yeah, Pilot, I know. I was being sarc…You know what? Nevermind.” He waved his hands infront of his face while he shook his head in resignation. “Pilot, since I’m out this way, I’m heading to my quarters for a few microts.” He needed to grab the carrier schematics he took from Crais so he could figure out where Aeryn might be. “Holler when Chiana is about to dock.”
“Very well.”
John walked in the direction of his quarters; biting his thumb with a far off look in his eyes. He couldn’t get Aeryn out of his mind. Nothing new about that, he thought. But what if she never makes it back? She can’t be dead—how could I live without her…best not to dredge up old feelings. But if that bastard kills her, I’m going kamikaze on his ass. No…no… Scorpius would have killed both Chiana and Aeryn if he caught them. And if there were a problem, Chiana would have broken the radio silence to warn us. Couldn’t be that…
He picked up his pace. Crap. She was always dubious of his plans. What if she’s changing the plan? What if she’s on a suicide mission? Maybe she wants to be with the other John more than she wants to be with me. I have to stop her… It’s my fault she’s doing this—trying to get away from me. No…no…she is doing it because she loves the other guy, and this was just as much his mission as it is mine. I love Aeryn, too.…Doesn’t matter—she went because she couldn’t help herself. She is a soldier. This is her mission. John slowed to a stop again. That’s right. She’s a soldier. She knows how to survive, to look out for herself. She’s got to be OK, he thought. Before he could go any farther in his race to nowhere, Pilot interrupted his swirling thoughts with one word.
“Prowlers!”
