Return to Bermudas Index
by wordboy
“Why?”
The question sounded quietly in Pilot’s den, sounding both confused and angry. The only answer was what sounded like coughing, but could have been laughter.
Aeryn took a cautious step forward, her pulse pistol never wavering from Traven. D’Argo stepped up next to her, his Qualta blade ready to fire.
“Why did you do it,” Aeryn demanded. “What did we do to bring this on?”
Standing in front of Pilot, Traven stood calmly, apparently perfectly at ease with the situation. “To answer your second question first, you did nothing. You’re mentally incapable of doing anything of consequence. As for why, how else would you handle inferiors who violate your borders?”
“It was an accident. We were unaware of our trespassing into your space.”
Traven dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “Yes, yes. Dominar Rygel said as much. I do believe him, just as I believe Joolushka. I don’t trust that other one, Crichton, but that was not my decision to make. As for my actions here, think of it as removing weeds from a garden. We remove what inferiors we can, to make the universe a better place.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“Why yes, we have. You’d be surprised how many inferiors we’ve weeded out.” Traven glanced back at Pilot, then down at Chiana. “I think I’ll keep the Nebari with me. Make a move against me and she dies.” To drive home his point, Traven held up his free hand. Long, bony claws sprouted from the back of his hand. “And I can assure you, it will be painful.”
Aeryn glanced at D’Argo, then started backing out of the den. “If you harm either of them, it will be the last thing you do.”
“A threat, Sebacean?”
“I don’t make threats.” Aeryn holstered her pulse pistol and marched from the den.
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Stark was staggering out of the Central Chamber as Aeryn and D’Argo stormed by. “What happened? What’s going on?” He saw the grim looks on their faces and frowned. “That good?”
“Traven has taken Chiana and Pilot hostage,” D’Argo growled. “He has enough explosive to destroy the den and probably kill Moya.”
Stark’s single eye widened. “Oh, that’s not good.”
Aeryn lead them into Command. “You have a keen grasp of the obvious, Stark.” She looked around quickly and went to a side console. “Apparently, because they think we’re inferior, the Rolvarians feel that it’s their duty to remove us.” Aeryn looked over the console and began tapping in commands.
“They think we’re inferior, and they want to kill us? Don’t they have it backward?”
D’Argo joined Aeryn at the console. “Why don’t you go ask him about it, Stark? No, wait. That’ll only antagonize him.” He leaned against the console and watched Aeryn work.
Above the console, a hologram of Pilot’s den and the tiers below sprang to life. She studied it then began to enter more instructions. Several points of color appeared. Aeryn leaned close and studied the rotating image. “Here’s Chiana, Traven and the explosives. Now, if we don’t do anything, Traven will eventually release the death switch and set off the explosives.”
“And if we make a move against him, he kills us now. We’re frelled no matter what we do.”
“No, I refuse to accept that.” Aeryn continued to study the hologram. “There has to be a way.”
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Despite the pain in her leg, Chiana climbed onto Pilot’s console. She considered the cut on her leg and the blue blood that stained her clothing. “You know, I try and I try and I try. Why do I always attract trouble?”
Pilot nodded slowly. “Moya has wondered the same thing. Ever since escaping from the Peacekeepers two and a half cycles ago, we seem to have become a magnet for trouble. Still, it has been interesting.”
Chiana considered Pilot a moment then brushed her fingers against his cheek. “Interesting. Not the word I would have picked, but…” She stopped as Traven approached.
“You have nothing to fear. When the time comes, it will be quick. You will feel nothing.”
“Is that supposed to make us feel better?”
Pilot shook his head. “Your sympathy is reassuring. However, I am more concerned about the rest of the crew. Setting off these explosives, killing Moya, will…”
“We are only doing what is necessary to improve the quality of life. Why do you all find that so hard to accept?”
Pilot’s head tilted to one side. “Moya has a question for you. You seem to feel that Chiana, D’Argo, Officer Sun and Stark are inferior to you. Do you feel that way about Moya?”
Traven seemed taken aback by the question. “Leviathans have their uses, but the loss of one is of no real consequence to me.”
Something attracted Chiana’s attention. It sounded to her like slow, quiet footsteps. The sound was so faint, she almost doubted that she’d heard it. She glanced down quickly, hoping to spot the source, but didn’t see anything out of place.
One tier below, Aeryn aimed her pulse pistol at the ladder way, expecting to see Traven start down. When nothing happened, she relaxed and holstered the pistol. She thought, That’s right, nothing happening down here, nothing to see. She looked over at Stark, who was checking the other ladder. Possibilities were turning over in her mind, just starting to come together as a plan.
Stark backed away from the ladder and nodded. His ladder was also clear.
Aeryn nodded and tapped her comm. “D’Argo,” she whispered. “We’re on the tier below Pilot’s den, near the neurocluster. The ladder ways are clear. I have an idea.” Aeryn exchanged a look with Stark then started from the neurocluster.
