Return to Bermudas Index
Time: Between Different Destinations and Eat Me
Disclaimer: I didn’t create Farscape, didn’t create the characters, and don’t make a plug nickel off of it.
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Aeryn leaned against the console and stared at the swirling maelstrom that filled the Observation Deck’s forward window. For a moment, Aeryn thought someone had poked a hole in the fabric of space.
“Pilot, is that what I think it is,” she asked.
The viewer to one side hummed to life, filling with a hologram of Pilot. “It appears to be a wormhole, Officer Sun.”
Aeryn chewed her lower lip and watched the swirling chaos. “Pity Crichton isn’t here. Looks like he picked the wrong time to go to a commerce planet.”
“He will be disappointed to find out this opportunity was lost. I suppose we could move closer and perform some scans.”
Aeryn took a step closer to the window. “How does Moya feel about that?”
Pilot hesitated before answering. “Moya is curious about the wormhole, but she is also afraid. After all, a wormhole did drag Commander Crichton away from his home planet.”
“And she doesn’t want the same thing to happen to her. Understandable.” Aeryn continued to watch the swirling madness, turning over possibilities in her mind.
Footsteps from behind broke her train of thought. Glancing back, Aeryn saw Chiana step into the Observation Deck. She stared at the wormhole then moved to Aeryn’s side. “Is that…?”
Aeryn nodded once. “Yes. Pilot thinks it’s a wormhole. Moya’s curious, but she’s afraid to get too close.”
“Can’t say I blame her. It looks like it goes straight to hezmana.”
Aeryn nodded again. “How about this, Pilot. Rather than have Moya move closer, why don’t I take Crichton’s module out? I’ll make a few passes, take some readings. That way, if this wormhole collapses before Crichton returns, he’ll have something to work with.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Aeryn looked at Chiana and asked herself the same question. “I’m not entirely sure it is a good idea. But since you and I are the only ones who didn’t go to the commerce planet, my options are fairly limited.” She looked at the wormhole again then started for the door. “Pilot, keep the docking web ready, just in case.”
“Yes, Officer Sun. Be careful.”
“I will, Pilot.”
Chiana came up behind her. “Aeryn, I don’t think you should go. I have a feeling something’s going to go wrong.”
“Seeing into the future?”
“No. I just have a bad feeling about this.”
“Chiana, I’m only going to make a few passes just to get some readings. I’m the best pilot onboard. What can go wrong?” Aeryn smiled and picked up her pace, leaving Chiana standing in the corridor, shaking her head.
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There was darkness and noise, the scream of over-stressed engines, voices calling out to her, urging her to flee. To flee from what, she couldn’t at the moment remember. There was urgency, confusion and more than a little fear.
The noise faded, leaving only darkness. After some time (how long she couldn’t guess), she felt hands roughly lift her up. She felt herself being lowered and held up in a standing position. A garbled voice yelled at her. A hard slap across her face cleared her mind.
Aeryn Sun opened her eyes.
“Where the frell…” She looked around, confusion and dread beginning to gnaw at her mind. The sight of the two black clad guards holding her up didn’t fill her with optimism. The sight of neatly arrayed rows of Prowlers, Marauders and transports confirmed it.
“A command carrier? Where did…?” Aeryn tried to remember what had happened after she left Moya, but found confused images that proved no help.
Quick, precise footsteps drew her eyes to one side. An officious looking lieutenant was approaching. Aeryn frowned; she was certain she had seen him before, but couldn’t be certain.
“Name and division,” he demanded.
Almost certain the lieutenant knew who she was, Aeryn didn’t answer. The lieutenant demanded again. When she remained silent, the lieutenant nodded to the guards. One roughly twisted her arm.
Aeryn winced in pain. “Aeryn Sun,” she finally said.
Surprise and confusion crossed the lieutenant’s face. “What did you say?”
“My name is Aeryn Sun.”
The lieutenant’s confusion deepened. “That can’t be. Aeryn Sun is…” He leaned to one side, noticing the module for the first time. “Your ship?” He turned and looked across the hanger.
Aeryn followed his gaze, not believing what she saw. On the far side of the hanger was what had to be an exact duplicate of Crichton’s module.
Aeryn’s head began to spin. She thought, Two modules? How could there be two modules? It’s a trick. It has to be. Someone’s frelling with my mind…”
Another set of footsteps preceded the voice. “Well, if it isn’t the radiant Officer Sun.” Rather than the warm, caring voice she knew so well, but instead of warmth, this voice was cold and precise.
Aeryn felt her eyes go wide with shock and surprise. Slowly, she turned to the immaculately uniformed man coming up behind her. She shook her head, not believing what she was seeing.
“John?” Something in the back of her mind snapped and her world went black.
The lieutenant approached Aeryn’s unconscious form. “What are your orders, Captain?”
“Have her taken to a cell, Braca. When she wakes up, bring her to my office.” Captain John Crichton watched the guards carry Aeryn’s body away.
“Back from the dead, after almost half a cycle.” Crichton glanced at the module Aeryn had been flying. He shook his head slowly, turned and marched away.
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Reality replayed itself through her unconscious mind.
She could see herself in Crichton’s module, powering away from Moya, again thrilled with being able to fly free. As she banked around the massive Leviathan, Aeryn admitted to herself that all the work Crichton had done on the small vessel hadn’t been a waste of time. The module handled well, responding quickly to her direction.
As she swooped past the mouth of the wormhole (and tried to ignore the fact that it was many times the size of Moya), Aeryn threw a succession of switches. The console’s screens began to fill with information.
“Pilot, the sensors are on-line and recording. How does it look from there?”
“It all looks all right so far, Officer Sun. How long were you planning to stay out there?”
“Long enough for a few passes. I’d feel better if I still had my Prowler, but it wasn’t exactly designed for observations like this.” Aeryn banked the module around for another pass.
It was on the fourth pass that things went wrong. Aeryn wasn’t sure what had happened, but the module started to drop into the wormhole. None of her maneuvering broke whatever had taken hold of the module. Even pushing the engine to its limit didn’t help. Aeryn could barely hear Pilot and Chiana calling out to her.
The module began to tumble and Aeryn lost consciousness.
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There was a voice at the edge of the darkness, repeating itself in the most annoying way.
“It can’t be you…it can’t be you…it can’t be you…it can’t be you…”
Aeryn moaned and rolled onto her back. “Shut up, Stark,” she said. A moment later, she opened her eyes and sat up. The cell she found herself in was cruelly designed, with only a single metal bench opposite the door, which was blocked by a containment field.
As she stood, Aeryn patted herself down, relieved to find herself uninjured. Standing as close to the field as she could, Aeryn looked at the row of cells on the other side of the narrow aisle. One cell down from hers stood Stark. The former slave’s single eye was wide with shock and the uncovered portion of his face wore a look of panic.
“Stark?”
“Who are you? Who are you?”
Aeryn closed her eyes and tried to ignore the headache that was beginning to pound behind her eyes. “Stark, it’s me. Aeryn.”
“No, no, no! You can’t be Aeryn! Aeryn’s dead! She’s been dead for half a cycle!”
Aeryn took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice as level as she could. “Stark, I am Aeryn. I’m not dead.”
The Banik stared at her, the panic beginning to clear from her face. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you? You really are Aeryn.”
“Yes, Stark. It really is me. Now, what the frell happened? How did Crichton become a Peacekeeper captain? If you’re captured, where’s D’Argo, Rygel and Jool?”
“Who’s Jool?”
Aeryn rubbed her eyes. Why is no conversation with Stark easy, she wondered. “Why do you think I’m dead?”
Stark blinked several times before answering. “What am I supposed to think? Half a cycle ago, while we were at the Diagnosan’s Planet, the neural chip that was supposed to be removed took over Crichton’s mind. He took off in his module, you followed him in your Prowler. I’m not sure how he did it, but Crichton collided with you and forced you to eject. You went down in a frozen lake…and drowned.”
Aeryn lowered her eyes. “Yes, that is what happened. But Zhaan did some kind of Unity thing and brought me back at the cost of her own life.”
“We were never able to retrieve your body. After he picked up Crichton’s module, Scorpius ordered an assault on Moya and Talyn. Crais showed his true colors and ordered Talyn to starburst away. Moya tried to run, but she was still weak from Grunchlk’s treatments. She couldn’t starburst. Pilot tried to evade, but the carrier’s brag cannons were too much for her. Moya was destroyed.”
Aeryn shook her head, not believing what Stark was telling her. “That’s not what happened. Crais and Talyn destroyed the Marauder Scorpius was on. We’ve managed to stay ahead of the Peacekeepers since then. If Moya was destroyed, why are you still alive?”
“Zhaan and I were on the planet. Scorpius’s soldiers killed her and took me prisoner. Not surprising, really; I was always Scorpy’s favorite torture victim.”
“But how did John become a Peacekeeper captain?” Still shaking her head, Aeryn backed up and sat on the bench. “Somehow history’s changed. The half cycle I lived through is entirely different from what you just described. Not the least of which is, Moya was not destroyed.” She closed her eyes and tried to think. “We needed some supplies, so everyone but me and Chiana went to a commerce planet. Moya was on her way to the rendezvous when we came across a wormhole. Since John wasn’t there, I took out his module to take some readings. Something went wrong and I was pulled in. The next thing I know, I’m here.”
“Maybe the wormhole brought you here.”
“Maybe.” Aeryn ran her hands over her face and winced. Her headache was beginning to get worse. “John once told me that on his planet, the scientists speculated that wormholes are not only passages through space, but possibly through time. Maybe even passages to different realities. Maybe that’s what happened. I’ve passed from my reality into this one, where history took a different path.”
“I’ve heard of a theory that states every decision has an infinite number of outcomes, and that each outcome is a different reality.”
“I don’t know. At any rate, I have to get out of here.”
The sound of heavy boots against the deck plates silenced the two. Two guards appeared in the door as the field shut down. “Prisoner stand!” Aeryn stood slowly. “Hands!” She held out her hands and winced as the second guard slapped on a set of binders.
“A little snug, don’t you think?” The guards ignored her. “Where are we going?”
“The Captain wants to see you.”
“Maybe you’ll get your answers,” Stark said.
“Maybe.” One guard shoved Aeryn forward. “Or maybe my headache will just get worse.” She glanced back at the guards and muttered, “Though I can’t see this getting any worse.”
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Aeryn marched between the guards, her dark eyes locked straight ahead, her face calm and composed. Her mind, however, raged, trying to make sense of the story Stark had told her. Moya destroyed…Pilot, D’Argo and the rest dead…Crichton as a Peacekeeper captain. It was almost too much to absorb.
As they made their way up from the bowels of the command carrier, enroute to Crichton’s office, the number of crewmembers they past diminished. Despite herself, Aeryn found herself curious. In all her time with the Peacekeepers, she had never been to the massive ship’s upper levels.
They eventually reached an unadorned door. One of the guards waved at the small sensor mounted on the doorframe. A moment after the attention signal sounded, the door opened. After a microt of hesitation, the guards lead Aeryn in.
The office was massive, sparsely furnished, decorated in standard Peacekeeper black and red. Crichton and the lieutenant stood by a large desk, studying a hologram of a wormhole. Aeryn wondered if it was the same one she had been observing.
“The prisoner, sir.”
Crichton turned to face her and Aeryn was struck by how cold his blue eyes were. “Remove her binders and leave us.” The guards complied quickly, snapped to attention and left the office.
Crichton studied the hologram a microt longer then stepped around the desk and sat in the thickly padded chair. “Tell the scientists that I will no longer tolerate failure. I have given them all the information I had concerning wormholes. If they can’t fashion the weapon I require, then I’ll find someone who can. Make sure they understand that, Braca.”
Braca came to attention. “At once, sir.” He started for the office door, but slowed as he past Aeryn. He seemed confused and about to say something. Instead, he just shook his head and left.
Aeryn watched the door close, then looked back at Crichton. He regarded her coolly. “You look good in the uniform,” she said, taking a few steps closer to the desk.
“Well, they say the clothes make the man. Now, who are you? You appear to be Aeryn Sun, but I watched Aeryn Sun’s ejection seat break through the surface of a frozen lake. And since Moya was destroyed before a rescue operation could be mounted, I can only assume you are an imposter. Now, who are you and what are your orders?”
Blinking back the headache, Aeryn said, “Stark said as much. The only thing I can guess is that is has something to do with that wormhole. I am Aeryn Sun. I haven’t been dead for half a cycle. A solar day, maybe less.”
Crichton considered, frowning. “All right. For the moment, I’ll accept that you survived being submerged and that you somehow made your way from the Diagnosan’s planet. How did you manage to construct a duplicate of my module?”
“It’s not a duplicate. It’s the original.” Aeryn quickly described the events that brought her to the carrier.
Crichton reclined his chair and folded his hands in front of his face. “Fascinating.” His eyes darted from side to side, as if running calculations through his mind. “A parallel universe? Maybe this wormhole did more than we anticipated.” He stood and began to pace.
Aeryn watched him. “Can I ask you a question? After the neural chip took over, it remained in control, didn’t it? You couldn’t break free of it, like the Crichton I know did.”
Crichton smiled, and Aeryn shuddered at the coldness of it. “Why would I want to break free of it? I’ve achieved so much in half a cycle. I have more resources at my disposal than ever before. I’m not running around on a Leviathan with a group of bickering delinquents. I have status, position, power.”
“That’s another question. Where’s Scorpius, and how did you get to be in command of the carrier?”
His smile grew, becoming almost predatory. “For a technologically advanced race, you Sebaceans are remarkably gullible. All I had to do was play on the crew’s ingrained hatred for hybrids. After that, I just stood back and let them deal with Scorpius.” Crichton glanced toward a corner.
Aeryn followed his gaze and inhaled sharply. Nestled in among Hynerian skulls was Scorpius’s decapitated head, a look of defiance frozen on his face.
“So you managed to do it. I thought the chip wouldn’t let you kill him.”
“I didn’t. The crew did that. I just wanted the trophy.”
“Does the crew know you’re not Sebacean?”
“Only Braca knows that. And he’s such an ass-kissing little sycophant that he won’t say anything. With his support, I assumed the rank of Captain and seized command. Now I’m conducting the research Scorpius started, trying to perfect weapons based on wormhole technology.”
“I see. I never knew you were this ambitious, John. High Command went along with this?”
“As soon as I present them with the weaponry and eliminate the Scarrans, they’ll see things my way.”
“Perhaps.”
Crichton gestured at the hologram again. “What do you know about that?”
Aeryn shook her head. “Nothing really. I was using the module to take some readings why my John Crichton and most everyone else were off Moya.”
“Convenient. I wish I could believe you, but there’s something about your story that just doesn’t ring true. But I’ll get the truth out of you.” Crichton returned to the desk and touched a control. “Lieutenant Braca, come to my office.”
Aeryn felt her heart begin to race. “John, wait. Have I ever lied to you? I have always told you the truth.” More or less, she thought. “I’m telling you the truth now.”
“No, you’ve never lied to me, Aeryn. You just treated me like a backward, semi-evolved ape that was incapable of using the bathroom without a cycle of instruction. Well, as they say back home, payback’s a bitch.”
Aeryn’s jaw dropped in surprise. The anger she heard in Crichton’s voice left her speechless. For a microt, she wondered if the John Crichton she knew felt the same way, if beneath his upbeat exterior the same anger seethed.
The office door opened. Braca and a tall woman with straight, shoulder length hair entered. The woman wore a tight fitting leather uniform, the same as Scorpius’s assistants always did. A misplaced thought drifted through Aeryn’s mind: How does she breath in that suit?
“Jenavia,” Aeryn said quietly.
The woman stopped in front of Aeryn and frowned. “Aren’t you dead?”
“We’ll see. Braca, introduce Officer Sun to the Aurora Chair. I’ll be down in a few microts.” Crichton glanced at Jenavia. “More or less.”
Aeryn didn’t resist as she was dragged out of Crichton’s office. Another misplaced thought went through her mind: Things have just gotten worse.
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“She did what?”
John Crichton stared at Pilot, not believing what he had just heard. As usual, John was unable to read Pilot’s face. “Aeryn took out my module to get some readings on that wormhole. Somewhere along the line, she lost control and fell into the wormhole. Explain to me, please, why the hell she’d do something like that?”
“She did it for you, Commander,” Pilot said calmly. “Considering your growing obsession with wormholes, Officer Sun and I felt you would be upset and disappointed if the wormhole collapsed before you returned. Moya was afraid to get too close, so Officer Sun decided that using your module would allow her to take readings and keep Moya at a safe distance.”
“Yeah, just what I would have done. Damn it, Aeryn…” John leaned heavily on Pilot’s console, his head resting on his arm. His initial burst of anger faded quickly, to be replaced by concern and despair.
Heavy footsteps came up behind him, followed by an unexpectedly gentle hand on his shoulder. “John…?”
“She took my module out, D’Argo. She wanted to get some readings on the wormhole in case it collapsed before I got back.”
“I know. Chiana told me. Pilot, how long to recharge the transport pod?”
“Two arns, Ka D’Argo, possibly less. I already have the DRDs working on it. The second transport pod is ready for launch.”
“I’m there.” John straightened and wiped his eyes. “Hold position by the mouth of the wormhole, Pilot, and keep the docking web ready. I’m going to take out the transport pod and start searching.” She could have come out anywhere, he thought. Damn it, Aeryn…
“When the other transport pod is ready, I’ll join you.” D’Argo again placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “We’ll find her.”
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She really wished that whoever was screaming would just stop.
Then she realized that she was the one screaming.
Well, that’s all right, then, she thought.
Aeryn was barely aware of the Aurora Chair’s rotation, even less aware of the room beyond the Chair. Even Crichton’s relentless questioning existed only at the fringe of her awareness. The only thing that was clear to her was a point of white-hot pain in the center of her mind.
“Aeryn, Aeryn, Aeryn,” Crichton said, his tone of voice full of faked concern. “If you resist the chair, it will only get worse.”
“I’m…not…resisting…” Aeryn could barely recognize her own voice. “How…many… times…” Her voice caught in her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the pain. Sweat ran freely down her face. “How…many…times…must…I…tell… you?”
“All you have to do is tell me the truth. Assuming that you really are Aeryn Sun, where did you come from and how did you get here?” Crichton stared at Aeryn’s tortured face, then turned to the Chair’s screen. He watched the memory of Aeryn leaving Moya in the module, watched the module buzz the mouth of the wormhole then begin to tumble out of control into the maw. “Staying with that, are you? Jenavia, deeper.”
Aeryn tasted blood as her jaw clamped down; her teeth had sunk deep into her lower lip. She could feel the Chair reach into her mind, ripping through layers of memory. The same sequence of images crossed the screen. She barely heard Crichton growl, “This is not helping you, Aeryn!”
“Frell…frell you…”
“Defiance. Always good to see.”
From the Chair’s control panel, Jenavia cleared her throat. “Captain…John…I have to question the logic of continuing. Everything here says she’s telling the truth.”
Crichton spun and crossed to the console. “She can’t be telling the truth.”
“Why? Because you say so? Your own theories address the possible existence of parallel universes. Why is it now implausible for someone from another universe to have actually crossed over from their universe to this one?”
Jenavia waited for an answer, but Crichton’s only response was angry silence. “In my opinion, you are letting your hatred for your former shipmates blind you. Quite honestly, you’re acting like you enjoy this.”
“Maybe I am. Are you questioning my actions, Jena?”
A faint sound from the Chair cut off Jena’s answer. Crichton turned back to the Aurora Chair and stepped closer. He leaned close to Aeryn and watched tears run down her face.
“Crying? You’re crying? The great Aeryn Sun, Special Commando, Icarion Company, Pleisar Regiment, is crying? What could possibly bring this on?” Crichton turned back to the screen.
“I meant it,” Aeryn whispered, barely conscious. “I meant it.”
Crichton turned back to her. “Meant what?”
“I meant it…”
From the Chair’s speakers came Aeryn’s voice: “I hope you meant what you said in the neuro-cluster, because I did.”
Crichton straightened, his face softening slightly. “Maybe I did, once. One last question, Aeryn. If you’d had the opportunity, would you have shot down my module? Killed me?”
“If it…if it would have saved you…from this, yes, I would have.”
Crichton stepped back. “Turn it off, Jena.” His eyes lowered to the deck. “Guards, take her back to her cell.”
As she switched off the console, Jena said, “Well, a rare moment of acting like the John Crichton I met on the Royal Planet.”
Crichton turned to face her, his face again hard and cold. “Don’t overstep yourself, Jenavia Chatto. I know that you’re still a Disruptor, still with Special Ops, and that you’re here to watch over me. I also know that, should you feel it necessary, you will not hesitate to put a pulse pistol against my forehead and squeeze the trigger. You might want to keep that in mind.”
As she watched Crichton leave, Jena chewed on her lower lip. “Well,” she muttered, “maybe it’s time to do a little research of my own.”
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“John?”
John Crichton turned from the transport pod’s flight console, almost afraid to take his eyes from the sensors. “Yeah, Pip?”
Chiana sat next to him and offered the silver flask she held. “You look like you need a drink.”
“Yeah, thanks.” John raised the flask to his mouth, and was surprised by the warm, sweet liquid that poured out. “Rasklak? I didn’t think we had any on Moya.”
“I asked Jool and Stark to pick some up for me. And, against all odds, she actually did it.” Chiana leaned close to him. “After all this, Aeryn will probably find us.”
“She probably will.” John took another sip of the rasklak and handed the flask back to Chiana. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“I was here when she left for the wormhole. I should be out looking for her.”
John looked over the console and stood. “Can you take this for a little bit, Chi? I gotta hit the head.”
Chiana was about to ask what he was talking about (hit whose head?), but simply smiled and nodded. “Sure.”
As he started for the rear of the compartment, a voice whispered in the back of John’s mind. “This is a waste of time, John. For all you know, the wormhole has thrown Aeryn all the way to Earth.”
John squeezed his eyes shut. “This is not a waste of time, Harvey. We will find Aeryn. Now, go away.”
“I am, as always, just trying to be of assistance, John. It would be best to move on.”
“Not. Without. Aeryn. Go. The frell. Away. Now.” When he was sure Harvey had sunk back into the depths of his subconscious, John continued to the back of the compartment.
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Crichton watched as the guards unceremoniously dropped Aeryn’s barely conscious body onto the floor of her cell. They came to attention outside the cell, but he dismissed him with a wave. After a moment, he knelt and eased her onto her back. He watched her pain play out across her face, not quite sure what he felt.
He felt a hand that really wasn’t there on his shoulder. “Feeling sentimental, John? I thought we had purged those soft emotions from your mind.”
Crichton glanced back over his shoulder at the black clad, cadaverous form that existed only in his mind. “Well, well. I was wondering when you’d show up again.”
Scorpius knelt next to Crichton and leaned close. “Up until now, I haven’t had the need. You’ve performed marvelously in your take over of the command carrier. And soon, you’ll have…”
“Enough with the list. I know what I’ve accomplished and what I stand to accomplish. But the one thing I haven’t thought about in half a cycle is what I’ve lost.”
Scorpius sighed and put an arm around Crichton’s shoulder. “No time for regrets, John. You can look back at what used to be after the Scarrans have been defeated.”
Crichton inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “Used to be’s don’t count anymore.”
“Still talking to Scorpius?”
Crichton looked down. Aeryn stared at him. Anger and defiance had replaced the traces of pain on her face. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and regarded him coolly. “I never told you how annoying that was.”
“No.” Crichton stood and backed out of the cell. “The John Crichton you knew is buried. There’s no point in looking back, only looking ahead.” He reactivated the cell’s containment field and folded his arms across his chest.
“Whatever happened to getting back to Earth? For two cycles, it was all you wanted. What would your father think about what you’ve become?”
Crichton turned from the door. “I didn’t want to go home without you, Aeryn. When you died, that dream died, too.”
“When you killed your Aeryn, you mean.” With effort, Aeryn pulled herself up to the bench. “Wouldn’t your father be proud.”
Crichton closed his eyes and started walking. “Yes, wouldn’t he.”
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Jenavia looked around the lab, quickly picking out the scientist she was looking for. “Linfer.”
The Relgarian scientist looked up from the computer console where she worked and brushed white hair away from her eyes. “Jenavia? What can I do for you?”
“I have a question or two for you.” Jenavia walked up to the console and leaned forward.
“If it has to do with our lack of results, I told Braca…”
“This has nothing to do with Braca’s visit, though I would suggest you produce some results very soon. The captain will be in a foul mood soon.” If I have anything to say about it, she thought. “I have a question about the Captain’s theories.”
Linfer nodded slowly, looking relieved. “Oh. Of course. I’m sorry; we’re all a little on edge down here. What do you need?”
“The Captain’s theory about a wormhole leading to parallel universes. How sound is it?”
“It’s quite possible. Random theory dictates that every decision has a myriad of possible outcomes. Each outcome would be its own reality. A wormhole could easily lead from one reality to another.”
“Suppose someone from one of the other realities came to this reality.”
“An interesting possibility. Why do you ask?”
“Strictly curious.”
“Would this have anything to do with that small craft that was captured?”
Jenavia leaned close and her voice took on a threatening tone. “Don’t ask me that question again.” She smiled, and her voice softened. “Now, if someone from another reality comes here?”
Linfer stood and began to pace. “An interesting question. It would depend on their quantum state.”
“Quantum state? Linfer, pretend I’m not a tech.”
“It has to do with their sub-atomic structure. If that structure is radically different from that of the universe they traveled to, it could be dire.”
“How bad?”
“Nothing dramatic, like matter and antimatter coming together. It would be like a body rejecting an incompatible replacement organ.”
“So the person would die?”
“It might take some time, but the visitor’s body would probably start coming apart at a cellular level. It would be painful.”
“I see. Thank you, Linfer. Remember, results.” Jenavia turned and marched from the lab, plans already starting to form.
The alarm caught her by surprise.
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Crichton looked up from his desk and growled in frustration. “Now, what the hell was that?” He looked up at Braca, who was already slapping the intercom.
“This is Lieutenant Braca. Report.”
“This is the armory, sir. We’re sorting through the situation, but it appears a pulse pistol exploded.”
“A pulse pistol exploded? Who was the idiot…”
“It was the pulse pistol taken from the prisoner, sir.”
Crichton leaned back in his chair. “She must have set it to overload.”
“Negative, sir. The pistol was completely powered down. However, one of the guards here reported the weapon looked like it was melting before it exploded.”
Crichton frowned. “Melting? Bring that guard to my office.”
“That won’t be possible, sir. The guard was killed.”
“I see.” Crichton ground his teeth. “Get down there, Braca. Figure out what the frell is going on.”
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She wanted to throw up but didn’t have the strength to do it.
Aeryn stared at the light panels on the ceiling of the cell, feeling her strength fade. Is this what I felt when I…died, she wondered. I can’t remember…
She heard footsteps on the other side of the containment field. “Officer Sun? Aeryn? It’s Jenavia Chatto.”
“What do you want? I’m busy.” Aeryn closed her eyes.
“Busy dying. You don’t belong here, Aeryn.”
“Your ability to state the incredibly obvious is admirable. Is that how you ended up as Crichton’s aide?” Aeryn opened her eyes and managed to turn her head toward the door. Jenavia casually leaned against the doorframe.
“No. High Command felt it prudent to keep an eye on Crichton. They went to Special Ops, and Special Ops came to me.” She switched off the field, entered and knelt by the bench. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
“Good. I wish I had the strength to help you.”
“Can’t you stand?”
“I barely have the strength to breath.”
Jenavia growled in frustration and looked around. She stood quickly and went to Stark’s cell. “You! Banik! You’re a Stykera, correct?” Stark nodded, fear obvious on his face. Jenavia switched off the field, reached in and dragged him out of the cell.
She shoved him into Aeryn’s cell. “Help her. I need her up and able to walk.”
Stark looked down at Aeryn and nodded. He sat and cradled her head on his lap. “Aeryn, I’m going to try and help you.” He unbuckled the straps that held his mask in place and lifted it away. Golden light spread out from his face, bathing Aeryn’s head.
Almost immediately, Aeryn’s breathing became stronger. She blinked several times and stared into the light. “Oh…my…what is that?”
“It’s a memory of a beautiful place I once visited. I can use it to ease your pain and restore your strength for a time.” Aeryn closed her eyes and felt her strength begin to return.
“What’s going on here?”
Aeryn turned to the door and saw the guards, both with pulse rifles raised. Jenavia looked unconcerned. “Just doing a little research,” she said. “You’re welcome to come in and investigate.” The guards looked at each other then stepped into the cell.
What happened next was almost too fast for Aeryn to follow. A long blade popped from Jenavia’s right sleeve. She spun, her arm swinging in a wide arc. The blade sliced easily through the guard’s throat. Before the second guard could react, Jenavia’s arm came back. A moment later, the blade plunged into the guard’s skull.
“Brutal,” Stark gasped, his eye wide with shock.
“Efficient,” Aeryn said. She sat up and inhaled deeply. She felt better. Not in top form, but better than she had. “Won’t Crichton be upset that you’re helping me?”
Jenavia wiped blood from the blade and retracted it back up her sleeve. “Crichton may think he’s untouchable, but Special Ops can touch anyone they want. You have to get back to your universe before your module begins to break down.”
“Break down? Is that what’s happening to me?”
“I think so. Don’t ask me to explain it. I barely understood it.” Jenavia helped Aeryn to her feet. “Now, let’s go.”
“What about Stark?”
Jenavia looked at Stark, who quietly pulled his mask back on. She shook her head. “Get back in your cell. You didn’t see anything. Understand?”
“My mind’s blank,” Stark said as he returned to his cell.
Jenavia switched on the field and started from the cellblock. “Let’s go.”
Aeryn looked back at Stark. “Thank you.” She then turned and followed Jenavia.
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“Captain Crichton.”
Crichton looked up from his notes and touched the intercom. “Yes, Braca.”
“There’s a problem, sir. The prisoner has escaped.”
“What?” Crichton closed his eyes and felt anger begin to twist inside his mind. “She barely had the strength to stand, Braca. How could she frelling escape? What happened to the guards?”
“They’re both dead, sir. An expert with a blade killed them. I can only assume the same person is helping the prisoner.”
“Someone with a little something up her sleeve.” Could you be more obvious, Jena, he thought.
“I’ll issue an alert and begin a deck by deck…”
“You’ll do nothing, Braca. I’ll handle this. Have a squad standing by, but they are to do nothing without my order.”
The speakers were silent for moment. “I don’t understand, sir.”
“It’s not necessary for you to understand, Braca. One other thing. If her module should launch…let it go.”
“Let it go, sir?”
“Is there some problem with the comm, Braca? You heard me. If she takes off, let her go.”
The speakers were again silent. “Very good, sir.”
Crichton inhaled deeply and stood. He glanced down at his notes and frowned. Four neatly written lines attracted his attention:
“She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climbes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:”
His frown deepened. I don’t remember writing those, he thought.
---------------------------------------
They reached the hanger quickly and easily, which only filled Aeryn with suspicion.
“They must have found the guards by now,” she whispered to Jenavia. “The alarms should be starting any microt.”
“You’re right, they should. However, if I know Crichton, he’s probably ordered Braca not to sound the alarm. He probably wants to deal with us himself. Typical male.” Jenavia poked her head out from behind the Marauder they used as cover. She looked around quickly, picked out the guard positions then slipped back. “We have a clear path to your module. Just keep walking until you reach it.”
“Guards?”
“Just the regular complement. No more, no less. Let’s go.”
Aeryn grabbed Jenavia’s arm and pulled her back. “Wait. Why are you helping me?”
Jenavia seemed to think for a microt before answering. “Two reasons. First, you’re a distraction to Crichton. He’s thinking about you and his time on Moya. I need him to focus on his project. The Scarrans are starting to move toward our space. We need whatever weapons he can develop before their threat grows too far.”
“And the second reason?”
“The second? Remember that alert that sounded before I got you? Apparently your pulse pistol began to break down. It exploded, killing a guard. Now, picture the kind of damage that would occur if the module explodes in here, in the vicinity of all these fully fueled and armed Prowlers and Marauders.”
“Yes, that wouldn’t be good.” Aeryn squeezed her eyes shut. Her headache was coming back. She leaned against the Marauder and tried to will herself to remain standing.
“What’s the matter? Pain coming back? Whatever the Banik did must be wearing off. Let’s get you out of here and on your way back home.”
Aeryn nodded and followed Jenavia from behind the Marauder.
As they reached the module, Aeryn looked around, half expecting squads of guards to rush them. When none appeared, she began to think she might have a chance.
“How long do you need for the preflight checks?”
“Frell the preflight checks.” Aeryn began to climb up to the cockpit, but stopped when she saw a black clad figure step out from behind the module.
“Going somewhere, Aeryn?” Crichton stepped around the module, his pulse pistol never wavering. “Please get down.”
As she climbed down, Jenavia put herself between Aeryn and Crichton. “Captain, we can’t keep her here. It’s a danger to the ship.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I know. Her module’s starting to break down and may explode like her pulse pistol did. That’s not a problem; I’ll just order the module dumped.”
“And you’re going to let Aeryn die? Just like you did the last time?”
Crichton looked pained and turned away, lowering his pulse pistol. Jenavia took a step forward, then tumbled away as he swung out, striking her on the side of the head. He stepped close to her and raised the pulse pistol. “What did I tell you about overstepping yourself, Jena?” His finger began to tighten on the trigger.
Despite the pain in her head and general feeling of weakness, Aeryn rushed Crichton. He tried to bring the pistol around, but Aeryn slapped it aside. She plowed into him, knocking him back. They grappled for many microts, each trying to gain the advantage.
Aeryn managed to land a combination of jabs that staggered Crichton. He growled and rushed forward, coming at Aeryn with a rapid series of punches. She tried to block as many as possible, but her reflexes were not as fast as usual. Crichton backhanded her, and Aeryn felt her legs give out.
As she hit the deck, Aeryn saw Crichton pick up his pulse pistol and take aim for her head. “Goodbye again, Aeryn.”
She closed her eyes and waited for the end to come.
When the end didn’t come, Aeryn opened her eyes in time to see Crichton crumble to the deck. Behind him stood Jenavia, looking confused.
“It was just a panthak jab,” she said.
“He’s more susceptible to a panthak jab than a Sebacean.” Aeryn climbed to her feet and leaned on the module, waiting for her head to stop spinning. “Will you be all right?”
“Don’t worry about me. Go.” Jenavia watched Aeryn climb into the module and close the canopy, then turned to a guard, who was approaching cautiously. “You! Help me with the Captain! He’s fainted!”
The guard lowered his pulse rifle. “Fainted? I saw…”
The blade popped from her sleeve, and Jenavia held it up for the guard to see. “Excuse me?”
The guard considered the blade. “He fainted. He’s been under a lot of stress.” He slung the rifle over his shoulder and took one of Crichton’s arms.
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When she cleared the hanger bay, Aeryn opened the module’s engines wide, wanting to put as much space between herself and the carrier as possible. The wormhole was off the hammond side, and she altered course for it without thinking.
Home, she thought. Going home. Strange that I’ve come to think of Moya that way. Once, she was just another Leviathan…
There was a click as the comm system picked up a signal. “Officer Sun, this is Lieutenant Braca. Are you receiving?”
For a microt, Aeryn thought about not answering. “Yes, Braca. Going to issue an ultimatum? Turn back or you’ll open fire?”
“No, Officer Sun. The Captain’s orders are to let you go. I just wanted to say…good luck.”
Aeryn stared at the comm, not believing what she’d just heard. “Thank you, Braca. Take care of him.” She switched off the comm and returned her attention to the wormhole.
As the module dove into the maelstrom, Aeryn began to experience tunnel vision. She released the control sticks and pressed her hands against her temples, trying to force the pain away. She reached forward again, but the control sticks seemed impossibly far away.
The cockpit went suddenly dark, as if someone turned off the lights.
As she felt herself lose consciousness, Aeryn heard the voice, this time concerned and near panic.
“Aeryn, can you hear me? Aeryn, come it! Aeryn! Pilot, get the docking web out! Aeryn! AERYN!”
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One day later…
John stood outside the door of Aeryn’s room, looking through the lattice-like bars of the former cell. The room was dimly lit, but John could see Aeryn’s sleeping form on her bed. He reached over to open the door, hesitated, then tapped the control.
Aeryn didn’t stir as he crossed to her bed. She was lying on her back, coverlet drawn up to her chin. She looked better than she had when they’d gotten the module into the maintenance bay.
Slowly, being careful not to wake her, John sat on the edge of the bed. He sighed as memories from the previous day came back in a rush, no matter how hard he tried to hold them down.
He could see the module rolling to a stop, looking like it had gone through a war. The fact that the wings and canopy looked as if they were melting couldn’t hold John’s attention. With his superior strength, D’Argo had been able to force open the canopy. The cockpit was filled with smoke from numerous shorts. Aeryn was slumped over in the seat, the safety harness and her clothing apparently disintegrating from cause that, at that moment, John didn’t care about.
Aeryn had regained consciousness microts later, as Jool gave her a thorough examination. Whatever had affected the module had apparently started to affect Aeryn, but showed signs of clearing up.
Then Aeryn told them what she’d found on the other side of the wormhole.
John’s head hung low as he thought about the Crichton Aeryn had encountered. He wondered, How close did I come to becoming that man? A little less effort, and Harvey would have stayed in control. Everyone would be dead because of me. He buried his face in his hands.
He turned quickly as Aeryn shifted position under the coverlet. John froze, afraid he had woken her. But her eyes remained closed. Relieved, John reached out and brushed a few strands of hair from her face. He watched her a microt longer, then turned away.
From somewhere in the depth of his memory, a college English Literature class that he had taken only because he had to bubbled up. The poem came quickly:
“She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
“One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
“And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!”
John laughed once. “I’m surprised I remembered that.”
He wasn’t expecting the hand against his back. “Did you come up with that?”
John turned. Aeryn looked up at him with half-open eyes, a faint smile playing across her lips. “Hey. No, can’t take credit for that. That was written by a poet back home, named Lord Byron. How do you feel?”
“Weak, but otherwise all right. A few good night’s sleep and I’ll be fine.” She watched him, seeing discomfort on his face. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
John laughed once. “You’re saying that if the chip had stayed in control, I would have turned into Crais. I knew I was a basket case, Aeryn, but still…” His voice trailed off.
“Not necessarily. Stark mentioned a theory, something about each decision having an infinite number of outcomes. Each outcome is a different reality.”
“Yeah. Quantum theory. Possibly an infinite number of realities just slightly different from each other. There’s probably some realities where I never made it here.”
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t end up in one of them.” Aeryn yawned and rolled onto her side, her back to John.
John turned slowly. He stared at Aeryn’s bare back and felt a smile crawl onto his face. “What I wouldn’t give for a large jar of chocolate body paint.”
Aeryn glanced back over her shoulder, looking confused. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” John leaned over and kissed her on the shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” John stood and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Aeryn stared at the closed door, still smiling. “He did look good in the uniform,” she said as she drifted back to sleep.
