Return to Bermudas Index
by wordboy
Jool leaned into the small chamber where Linelk worked. “Hello.”
Linelk turned, and Jool thought she saw suspicion in the Rolvarian’s eyes. “Yes, honorable Joolushka. Are you enjoying your stay with us?”
“Oh yes, it’s very interesting. It’s nice to be back on a ship that’s not falling apart or colliding with anything. And it’s nice to finally be treated with respect.” Jool began to pace around the compartment, curiously eyeing the consoles that lined the walls. In the back of her mind was the request Crichton had made.
“You are not treated in a respectful manner onboard the Leviathan?”
Jool shrugged and stopped at Linelk’s side. “They have their moments. Would you mind it I asked you a few questions?”
“Of course not. The pursuit of knowledge is always to be encouraged. What would you like to know?”
Jool felt uncomfortable for a moment. This is ridiculous, she thought. These people haven’t done anything to threaten us. Crichton’s just being paranoid.
John’s words came back to her. “…on my planet, there are several ways of saying frell you…one of them is trust me.”
Jool bit her lip. “Could you tell me what Traven could be doing back on Moya?”
“He is taking care of them, of course. He is a Silver Dagger. It is what he’s trained to do.”
“Oh. So he’s just making sure Moya doesn’t move any farther into your space.”
Linelk considered for a microt then nodded. “There is no concern about that.”
“Of course not. Aeryn and D’Argo may be more prone to shoot first, but…”
“Well, with both the Pilot and the Leviathan dead, there really is no chance of them doing anything.”
Jool stared, not believing what she’d heard. “What did you say?”
“A Silver Dagger is a specially selected officer who is expected to lay down his life eliminating inferiors. It’s the best way, Joolushka. Otherwise, the inferiors will breed and reduce the quality of life for all of us.”
“Oh…well, I can see that.” Jool began to back out of the chamber. “Just out of curiosity, what’ll happen to us?”
“Once we arrive at our base, you’ll be given transport to anyplace you wish. I’m not certain, but I believe Somrela wishes to keep Crichton for study, since we don’t know his species.”
“He’s a very independent sort. He has a mind of his own. Well, thank you. I’ll talk to you later, Linelk.” Jool turned and tried hard not to run from the chamber.
Linelk watched her leave then reached for his console. “Somrela, we may have problems.”
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“…so I’m certain you understand, Dominar, that those inferior to us must be controlled. If they’re not controlled, then they’ll be free to degrade everything they come in contact with and bring down the quality of life in general.”
From where his throne sled hovered in the center of the small chamber, Rygel watched Somrela work. Though he still thought John was a paranoid yotz, Rygel had to admit to himself that something about the Rolvarian’s demeanor was beginning to disturb him. He was beginning to think that Somrela was holding something back or hiding something.
“That’s to be expected,” Rygel said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “Everyone below you should be held under tight control or else there’s chaos. I’ve always felt that is one of our main problems onboard Moya. We tend to try and deal with situations by committee. More often than not, we end up arguing with each other.”
Somrela nodded. “Yes. That can be inconvenient. But soon, your problems onboard the Leviathan will be over.”
“Over? What do you mean, over?”
“Well, once Traven carries out his orders and kills the Pilot and the Leviathan…”
“What…?”
Angry footsteps preceded John’s voice. “Yo, Sommie!”
Somrela turned from his console and regarded John. “Yes, Crichton? What seems to be the problem?”
“Not a whole helluva lot. Just the third Stooge having orders to blow up Moya. That’s not a good way to win friends and influence people.”
Somrela stared at John and looked disappointed. “Perhaps I as wrong about you. Since your species is unknown to us, I assumed you were intelligent. But you’re no better than the Sebacean female.”
John stared at Somrela, his hand beginning to drift toward his pulse pistol. “Okay, let’s look at this. I can probably see why you don’t like Sebaceans, Luxans, Nebari and Baniks. Hell, I wonder about Stark sometimes. But what about Pilot and Moya? You want to kill a creature whose only sin is to have us as a crew? And what about Pilot?”
“The Leviathan is a beast of burden. I question those who say they are intelligent. As for its pilot…he is linked to the Leviathan and shares its fate in all things. Why not in this?”
“Thought that’s what you’d say. Rygel, you and Jool get to the transport pod. Get it ready for launch. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Crichton…”
“Move! And watch out for Linelk.” As Rygel and Jool left, John took a cautious step forward. “Now, Fuzzy, get on the comm and call Moya. Tell Traven to stand down.”
Somrela stared. “All right.” His eyes darted quickly to one side as he turned back to his console.
The hair on the back of John’s neck stood. He spun, drew his pulse pistol and fired. Behind him, Linelk dropped to the deck, clutching his wounded knee. John turned back as bony claws sprang from the back of Somrela’s hands.”
“Whoa! Yo, Wolverine! Put ‘em away! Guess you’re not going to call Curley, right?”
“No.”
“If you insist.” John started shooting, sweeping the consoles that ringed the chamber with pulse blasts. “That should keep you busy. Don’t try to follow us.” As he backed out of the chamber, John tapped his comm. “Rygel, I’m coming.”
As he started running down the corridor, John tried to keep himself from expecting the worst.
He failed.
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Aeryn looked around Command, getting her thoughts together. The plan she had come up with, and refined with D’Argo, didn’t fill her with optimism. She could see many ways it could go wrong, so many ways it could fail.
It’s the best we could come up with, she thought. Is this what you meant by pear-shaped, John?
Her comm buzzed. “Aeryn, we’re almost ready. Stark’s in place. I’m almost there.”
“All right, D’Argo. I’m on my way.” Aeryn quickly checked her pulse pistol then picked up her pulse rifle from the chart table.
Aeryn stopped at the door and looked around. She gently placed a hand against the wall. “Don’t worry, Moya. I won’t let anything happen to Pilot. I won’t fail you.”
“I won’t.”
