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“Well, that was a bust,” John Crichton said conversationally, sneaking a sideways glance at the Sebacean woman who walked alertly at his side as they made their way back through a noisy throng towards the transport pod they had left nearly a solar day before. “Doesn’t sound like Chiana and Rygel had any better luck.”
“Did you truly think we would find any information here?” Aeryn Sun asked, eyes scanning the crowd for potential threats.
Crichton shrugged, keeping his own eyes peeled. “It was possible,” was all he said. It had been a long shot at best, but they needed to know where Scorpius had his base if they were going to attack him.
“Scorpius’ project is top priority for Peacekeeper High Command. It will be under maximum security. If Talyn couldn’t find out where it is based, no one in this place would have had access to the information.”
She spoke matter-of-factly, but John snapped back at her. “Yeah, well I don’t think Crais was trying very hard. He says he’s with us on this, but –“
Aeryn cut him off. “Why can’t you trust Crais? John did.” When she realized what she’d said, she looked away.
“Crais should be able to get this, Aeryn, it’s a big project, there’s got to be lots of records, personnel, supplies, equipment! He found out about your mother with a lot less to go on!” The minute he said it, he regretted it, but he couldn’t call back the words.
“They WANTED us to know about Xhalax!” she snapped, stalking off ahead of him.
Damn! Sparring again. This was not how he’d pictured their reunion, when he’d dared picture it at all. He wasn’t stupid. He’d figured – or at least feared – that she’d gotten involved with his twin, but he’d also figured he’d be able to fight for her. Never in a million years would he have guessed that the other guy would die – and now he had to figure out how to fight not just a ghost, but his own ghost.
The hardest thing, though, was that she wouldn’t let him in. Not even a little. He wasn’t trying to get into her bed. All he wanted was to try and take away some of the pain. But she wouldn’t let any of them comfort her, not even the girls. And it had been two weeks since Talyn had rejoined Moya, at least a month longer than that since the other John Crichton had died. How long could she keep this up? The thing that scared him most was that she might totally shut herself off from her own emotions and the rest of the world forever. She was that stubborn when she made a decision.
He supposed he should be grateful she was working with him on this plan to stop Scorpius from using the wormhole technology he’d stolen. Hell, he should be grateful that she was TALKING to him, considering how she’d behaved the first day she was back on Moya.
“She takes time,” he muttered under his breath as he ran to catch up with her. He hoped he – and that other John Crichton – weren’t wrong about that, for the sake of Aeryn’s heart even more than his own.
He didn’t try to talk with her during the rest of the walk to the pod where Chiana and Rygel were waiting for them.
“You’re completely fahrbot, you know.”
John sighed. The sentiment could have come from nearly any of the rest of the group assembled in Pilot’s den. Only Chiana and Rygel were missing from the meeting. They still said they weren’t going to get involved.
As it happened, it was Jool who had spoken. “You know that unless you get the phase shielding just right, you’ll liquefy, just like Linfer,” she continued.
Eyes on Jool, John missed Aeryn’s glance in his direction. “I know it’s a risk, Jool, but it will work. She found US through a wormhole nexus, and that’s how we can find Scorpius. He’s gotta be near a wormhole to be experimenting with them!”
D’Argo crossed his arms and snorted.
As John turned around to give his friend a betrayed stare, Crais spoke up.
“This Linfer is the one who defected from Scorpius’ command?” he asked.
“Yes,” Crichton agreed. The story of Linfer’s visit had already been told to those who had been aboard Talyn, since it had a direct bearing on their mission against Scorpius. “She found us just like I said, and that’s how we can find Scorpius.” *Since YOU haven’t managed to find him,* he added in his thoughts.
“In case you’ve forgotten, Commander,” Pilot reiterated, “Linfer found you, but she paid for it with her life. Unstable wormholes liquefy living matter.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Crichton interjected. “I got here in my module, safe and sound, and I’ve flown in more than one wormhole since I got here. It doesn’t have any shielding.”
“And you have no idea at all how you survived,” growled D’Argo. “One of these days you are going to fly into a wormhole, and your luck will run out!”
Aeryn’s voice, though low, startled them all. “It’s too dangerous. Furlow built some kind of stabilizer for the copy she made of your module. Even then, she hired Charrids to do test flights until she knew it would work. She’s an expert at saving her own skin,” she said bitterly, and added, ”You can’t fight Scorpius if you are a pool of blood and tissue.” She glared at John, daring him to make something personal of her concern.
He chose not to show it if he did. But he nodded in resignation. It had been a pretty stupid idea anyway, but he was getting desperate. “All right,” he said. “Then I guess we’d better just go back over everything we do have.”
John paused for a moment, then started giving orders. “Pilot, recheck everything you got from Linfer. See if there’s anything that can give us a clue to where she came from.” He waited until Pilot had acknowledged his assignment and then went on. “Crais, can you get Talyn to see if he can dig a little deeper? There must be SOME PK files he hasn’t found yet. Lean on the boy!”
“Crichton,” Crais said wearily, “I have told you repeatedly, Talyn has been unable to find any information on Scorpius’ wormhole project. He DOES understand the importance of stopping Scorpius. He witnessed the destructive power of Crichton’s weapon first hand.”
John’s head was beginning to ache. Everyone was starting to just say “John” or “Crichton” and assume that the others would figure out WHICH one, from context, but it still hit HIM in the stomach every time. Crais was one of the worst offenders there, and it didn’t do anything to improve John’s mood. Heedless of Crais’ feelings, he looked over at Aeryn. “Aeryn, do you think you might have more luck with him?”
She met his eyes coolly, but seemed to understand or perhaps remember his suspicions about Crais, even if she didn’t share them. “I’ll talk to Talyn,” she said. “But I think Crais is right. Talyn is doing his best.”
“Fine,” he acknowledged briefly, not pushing his luck. Turning to Jool and D’Argo, he said, “Can you two see if you can find any other likely candidates for places we could get information? Commerce planets, shadow depositories, whatever….”
Jool and D’Argo exchanged glances. John sighed. He suspected that the two were beginning to wonder if this crusade they’d signed on for was going to be any better than chasing wormholes while they had been separated from Talyn. So far, he had to admit, the presence of Aeryn and Crais hadn’t improved matters at all….
As the others began to scatter, John climbed up onto Pilot’s console and pulled out his notebook. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aeryn look at the book in his lap and deliberately turn away. Or maybe it was him she’d turned away from. To keep from brooding, he opened the book to the first page, and started skimming his notes.
They were woefully incomplete; the other him had taken the original notebook away when he’d followed Aeryn to Talyn, and it hadn’t been among his effects when Crais returned them. So, John only had access to the notes he’d made over the past few months.
Once he had finished going over everything he’d written down that related to wormholes, or to Scorpius, he had to admit that there really wasn’t anything that was going to help. He’d had very little contact with Linfer, and they hadn’t seen Scorpius since the debacle on the ice planet.
The more he thought about it, the more he felt he needed his original notebook. Surely the other him wouldn’t have been so careless as to lose it, would he?
“YOU wouldn’t have lost it, would you, John?” asked Harvey.
John simply glared at his not-quite-imaginary companion where the construct had appeared beside him, clad in a pink bathrobe and fuzzy pink slippers. “No,” John admitted grudgingly, declining to comment on the outfit. It was even more outré than usual, and John wondered vaguely what corners of his mind Harvey had been digging in.
“Well, neither would he,” the neural clone continued.
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t with his stuff. Why would Crais have kept it?”
Harvey heaved a martyred sigh. “Crais? Oh, my, John, you are busy lying to yourself, aren’t you?” He hopped down off of Pilot’s console, shaking out the robe so it hung properly.
“Okay, Harvey, you tell me. Where is it? It could be anywhere on Talyn.”
“Who did your twin spend all his time with? Who did he share everything with? Who would want something to remember him by?”
As Harvey spoke, he gestured around the room, and large flashing signs appeared, all bearing the legend, “AERYN!”
John sighed. “Harve, have you looked at Aeryn since she got back? No way she kept anything to remind her of him. She’s a mess. When my mom died, my dad couldn’t bring himself to go through her things for months. Crais has to have packed ‘em up.”
“Suit yourself,” Harvey shrugged, and vanished, along with the signs.
Crichton found he was more than a little uneasy after that conversation, but more determined than ever to confront Crais about the notebook.
Talking to Crais was not something John wanted to do over the coms. He trudged over to the cell Crais was temporarily using as his quarters, telling himself that he had a legitimate use for the notebook, and besides, it was his anyway. Crais had the advantage these days, because of the time the other John had spent in close quarters on Talyn.
The human knocked on the wall outside the cell and called, “Yo, Crais!”
After a moment, Crais appeared at the doorway. “Is there something I can do for you, Crichton?”
“Yeah. I was wondering. Have you seen my notebook?”
Crais looked puzzled. “Your notebook?” he asked pleasantly.
“Yeah, the one I keep notes in. Not mine, his. Well, mine. He took the original.”
“Ah, no.” He paused for a moment, then expanded, “Aeryn packed all his things, I just carried them."
“Oh.” He’d been afraid of that, despite his assurances to Harvey. Crap.
“I’m sorry.” There was that look on Crais’ face again, like he understood the human. He said quietly, “She wouldn’t let us help.”
The two men stood for a moment, looking at each other.
Accepting that the conversation had just taken a turn out of his control, John chose to interpret that statement broadly. He stood there for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the floor, steeling his nerve to ask a question he was afraid Crais wouldn’t answer. “Um, look, Crais….Did she….Do you think she’s okay?” He looked up then, afraid his expression was more nervous than he would have liked it to be.
Crais narrowed his eyes and looked at Crichton without speaking.
John took a deep breath and said, “I’m not trying to pry. It’s just…I’m just…” He paused for a minute to collect himself. “I’m just wondering how likely she is to implode on us during this mission.” Well, it sounded logical, and it was even true, as far as it went. Crais’ wry smile suggested he understood the real question. His sympathetic expression made Crichton uneasy, and the human looked away again, so he didn’t see Crais’ expression turn uncomfortable.
“She appears to be,” Crais began, and then paused, searching for words. He grimaced and finished, “mourning….poorly.”
John wasn’t sure he wanted to know what a Peacekeeper considered to be mourning….poorly. He said nothing, and Crais finally continued.
“The way she is now…. How stable is it? I don’t know. If you’re asking me if I think this is good for her–“
“No! No, I’m not asking that.” He looked at Crais for the first time since he started this discussion. He scowled. How did he get into this? “I’m just asking if you think she can handle the stress. Attacking a command carrier isn’t going to be easy.”
Crais looked at Crichton, tension tightening his face. John had the feeling that the Sebacean was sizing him up. Finally Crais said quietly, “You know her better than I do.”
John blinked. “Do I?” he asked cautiously. This was getting completely out of hand, and he moved to cut it off. “All right. So, you don’t know where my notebook is.”
“No.”
“Aeryn would probably know.”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” John said, and he turned and walked away, his head and his feelings in a jumble.
“Cherchez la femme, John,” Harvey’s voice announced from slightly behind him in the corridor.
Well, hell, he’d just been talking to Crais, he might as well talk to Harvey again. He started to turn, speaking as he did so. “Harvey, my man, if she takes my head off, you go with me—Oh, no, I don’t THINK so,” he hollered when he got a look at Harvey’s latest costume. It was a French maid’s outfit, complete with short black skirt, white apron, fishnet stockings and feather duster.
“What, you don’t like it?” the neural clone asked. “I thought from your recollection of that party that—“
“Enough already, I’m not in the mood to play games with you today.”
“All right,” Harvey said, returning to his more normal appearance as Scorpius’ clone. “She has the notebook,” he said with assurance. “It reminds her of him. End of story.”
“Aeryn doesn’t have a sentimental bone in her body, Leatherface.”
“What are you afraid of, John?” Harvey asked wonderingly. “What happened to, ‘John. Loves. Aeryn.’?”
“I also said you don’t speak the language, Harve. You don’t have the first idea what’s going on, so butt out.”
Harvey shrugged. “Maybe. But you’re going to have to talk to her. She’s the only one who might know where the notebook is, unless you think the Hynerian took it. And think on this, John. She’s the only one who might know something about Furlow’s phase stabilizer. Everyone else who was there is dead.”
Harvey vanished once again, and John was left with annoying certainty that the neural clone was right. Even assuming that Harvey was just digging up items from John’s own subconscious didn’t make John feel any better about being outsmarted by a construct.
Reluctantly, Crichton made himself put one foot in front of the other until he was in front of Aeryn’s quarters. He knew that she had talked to Talyn from Moya, through a link from Pilot. She was avoiding Talyn almost as conspicuously as she was avoiding John Crichton.
He stood there feeling like a schoolchild trying to avoid giving a report in front of class.
First Crais, next Harvey, now Aeryn. Frell, John thought, he really had it in for himself today, didn’t he? Maybe Scorpius would drop in, unannounced…..
On the bright side, if Scorpy DID show up, John wouldn’t need the notebook!
“Hey,” he called through the grille.
Aeryn came and opened the door for him. “Talyn is trying to analyze the data differently,” she said. “He might be able to find some anomalies to suggest where the base is.”
Caught off guard, John said, “Oh. That’s good. Maybe he can figure something out.”
They stood for a moment looking at each other, and then Aeryn dropped back, gesturing vaguely for him to come in.
He followed her in and said, “I was looking for my notebook.” She looked at him blankly, and he elaborated. “You must have seen it. It’s a book, like the one I have. He, um, he had it when he left on Talyn.”
”What makes you think I have it?” she said, evenly.
“I’m looking for it,” he said, “because it’s got my notes for a couple cycles, at least. Up until we got separated, I wrote everything I knew about wormholes down in that book. It could help me figure out how to make my module safe for wormhole travel.”
She looked at him just like she’d done when he told her about the Three Stooges in the wormhole. It annoyed the heck out of him, because he was trying to do the universe a favor here, not scarper off to Earth.
“You don’t have it?”
Aeryn looked away, and then said, “No.”
She was a terrible liar.
John wondered what she would do if he challenged her on it. Memories of that horrible scene in the transport pod the day she’d returned kept him from trying. He didn’t know what he would do if she refused to talk to him again. Time for Plan B.
“Okay,” he said briskly, not trying to hide his irritation. “You said when they made the displacement engine, they used Furlow’s phase stabilizer as the basis.”
“Yes,” she nodded immediately, in an apparent attempt to be helpful now that the notebook was no longer being discussed. “Jack…the Ancient…he did most of the modification before he was killed. And…John finished it.”
“Do you know anything about the stabilizer before they started work on it? How it worked, what it was made of?”
She shook her head. “I never saw inside the casing, and I wouldn’t have understood it anyway.”
John thought he caught the glitter of tears in her eyes, though he couldn’t imagine why. Well, damned if he was going to mention it. Stick with the subject. “Did Furlow leave any notes?”
She closed her eyes for a moment as if gathering strength. When she opened them again, any tears there might have been were gone. “I destroyed her base. We didn’t want the Scarrans to get it. There’s nothing left.”
“Right.” He nodded. Correct military tactics. It still left him with nothing. He was going to have to go back to the notebook, no matter what. Crap. Well, maybe it was time to push her after all.
“Aeryn, I need the notebook,” he said bluntly.
“I don’t have it,” she denied.
“You have to have it. He had it when he left. He took Wynona, he took my notebook, he took my coat and he took—“ John cut himself off abruptly as he heard his voice rise and the steel in Aeryn’s eyes got stronger. This was NOT where he wanted the conversation to go. “I’m sorry. But I AM going to stop Scorpius, and to do that I NEED to know where he is.”
“And this notebook, will it tell you where he is?” she asked skeptically.
“No,” he admitted. “But it might help me figure out, I don’t know, something. I have to stop Scorpius. HE wanted me to stop Scorpius, and even if he hadn’t, it’s my fight.”
Aeryn looked at him then, her face a complete mask. Abruptly she turned and strode across the room.
John didn’t dare move an inch, he just stood watching while she briskly pulled a duffle from a cupboard and retrieved his missing notebook. She came back and stood in front of him, notebook in hand. She made no move to hand it to him, and he wondered desperately what was going on in her head.
Finally she said, “I don’t think there’s anything about the stabilizer or the weapon they made. He didn’t have time to make any entries.”
He nodded. Now was not the time to argue about it. “’S okay. I just need to look at the earlier parts. The stuff we wrote when there was just one of us.” Ugh. That sounded crazy. John hoped he would eventually stop saying things like that.
“If there were just one of you,” she said softly, “you’d be dead.”
It was the most open thing she’d said to him since she got back. Screw the notebook, he thought. Maybe she’ll open up a little. “Look, Aeryn,” he said carefully, “you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m not your boyfriend, I’m not your husband. I wasn’t any of those things before you left.” For no reason that John could see, her eyes watered as he spoke. It worried him, but he continued. “But I do…care about you very much. I just want to help.”
Aeryn looked at him carefully, apparently coming to a decision, and then said, her control slipping just a little, “I would have gone to Earth.”
*Earth.* John was staggered. She would have gone to Earth. He hoped the blow didn’t show on his face.
“He knew I would have gone to Earth,” she repeated miserably. “He KNEW it, and he LEFT me,” she blurted out, her voice rising sharply in pitch as she fought to keep from tears. She lost the battle then, and crumbled into tight sobs so painful to hear that John pushed his own hurt into the far corners of his mind. The notebook tumbled unnoticed to the floor as he enfolded her in his arms, hands pulling her head to his chest, as if shielding her from any outside blows. She accepted the shelter and continued to cry.
“Aeryn, honey, he didn’t leave you,” John told her urgently, stroking her hair with one hand. “He died. Do you hear me? He’d never have left you on purpose.” Some objective corner of his mind wondered what he was doing defending the bastard who’d broken her heart, not to mention stolen her from him, but he couldn’t help it. “He loved you.”
Aeryn only sobbed harder. She was a dead weight in his arms, and John lowered the two of them to the floor together so that Aeryn ended up curled up in front of him, leaning across his lap and into his chest, his arms still holding her tightly.
He was never sure how long they sat there. He rocked her, stroked her hair, made soothing noises. He was sure she couldn’t hear the words anyway, but he thought the tone was sinking in. He hoped so, anyway. It seemed like her crying was becoming softer, less desperate.
At last she regained control and took a few deep breaths. She sat back enough to look up at him.
Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks soaked with tears and streaked with snot, and her hair, so carefully pulled back when he’d arrived, encircled her face in flyaway wisps. John had never seen anyone look so hurt, and it broke his heart. He didn’t quite know what to make of the confused expression on her face.
“Aeryn, I know it must tear you up every time you even look at me, but please believe me – I know I’m not him, and I’m not expecting you to think I am.”
“That’s just it,” she sniffled, looking up into his eyes, “you are.”
John was thunderstruck. He’d never really realized how bewildering this whole insane mess must be for her. He’d been thinking of himself only as a reminder of what she’d lost, not as someone she was still tied to, someone she still wanted, despite the hole in her heart. Talk about mixed feelings. “Oh, sweetie,” he whispered, blinking back tears of his own.
He could feel her trembling now, and he knew that some part of her wanted to kiss him. And some part of him most definitely wanted to kiss her, to give no quarter, take no prisoners. He thought if he made the first move now, she would probably surrender to her feelings for him. But if he took advantage of her, he’d never forgive himself. Aeryn would probably never forgive him, either.
Batting back the inner voice that was telling him he was a frelling idiot (and for once Harvey had the sense to stay out of the debate), he took the conflict out of her hands. “Aeryn,” he said quietly. “You know I love you with all my heart. And I think you just said that in some way you love me too. Right?” he asked gently.
The nod was forced out of her. She was still looking into his eyes, desperate for a way out of this dilemma.
“Listen to me. You do not need another John Crichton messing with your heart right now. We need to concentrate on getting you through this. Let me be your friend, the way we’ve always been. We’ll worry about us, if there’s going to be an ‘us,’ later.”
He was rewarded with the flash of a small, sad smile, and then Aeryn gratefully turned in his arms and leaned back against his chest. He encircled her in his arms, and laid his cheek on the top of her head. “I know you don’t believe it now, Aeryn, but it will get better,” he promised.
She brought her hands up to clutch his arms as they enfolded her, and they sat quietly together for a while.
Then Aeryn stirred slightly, and said, “When we were waiting to see if the Diagnosian could remove Scorpius’ chip from your brain, I told you that you had brought the word ‘hope’ to this vessel.”
She twisted her head around, apparently looking to see if he remembered. “Yes,” he whispered.
Seeming satisfied, she turned forward again. Staring into the distance, she told him, “You almost make me believe in hope again.”
“Hope is all we have, Aeryn,” he told her, silently giving thanks to whatever lucky stars were responsible for this step forward.
“Mmm,” she murmured, and then stretched aching muscles.
John reluctantly let go of her, and she stood up. She turned and casually reached a hand down to help pull him up as well, and he took it with what he hoped was well-concealed relief at how NORMAL her action was.
His legs almost didn’t work after all the time spent sitting on the floor, and he bent over and rubbed his leg muscles, then stretched his back. “I feel like I’ve been playing football,” he said conversationally. “You’d make a great linebacker.”
“Thank you. I think,” she told him. Then she bent down and picked up the notebook from where it lay on the floor. She looked at it for a long moment, and then offered it to him.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, moved by her offer.
Aeryn shook her head. “You were right. You need it.”
He thought for a moment. It obviously meant a great deal to her, though he didn’t know why. “How about this,” he said. “I’ll borrow it and refresh my memory. Then I’ll bring it back to you.”
“It’s yours,” she said.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But you keep it as long as you need it, okay? I’ve got the sequel.”
Aeryn looked at him for a long time, biting her lip. Finally she smiled and said, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he said, smiling in relief. He reached out then and dared to do something he’d been wanting to do for months: He took a wisp of her hair that dangled alongside her cheek, and twisted it gently in his fingers. It felt unbelievably soft to his touch.
She bit her lip again, although she had a wistful smile on her face, and John decided he’d better go before he undermined the miracle that had just happened. He let go of her hair and took the book from her then, saying, “I guess I’ve got some reading to do.”
Aeryn searched his eyes, and then gently touched his cheek with just one finger. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.” As he walked back to his quarters, John thought the weight of the world had just been taken off his shoulders, despite everything that he still had to do. Aeryn was going to be okay.
