39.
Jarvis: Damage Control
The Board took almost a full day to contact him after the disaster.
During that time, Jarvis kept to himself for the most part. He wasn't alone in doing so. Shock and demoralization had spread throughout the Messina in the aftermath. The deaths of two dozen of the best fighter pilots in the Known Systems, gunned down by a single man, had still not been made public, although rumors about the space battle were spreading throughout the civilian media. Ordered to maintain an almost complete comms blackout, the Messina and its crew floated above Troubadour in contemplative silence while the planet below clamored for an explanation. Within the Messina, few words were spoken.
People wandered around with reddened eyes and puzzled expressions. Certain seats in the lounge and cafeteria were conspicuously empty and carefully avoided. Everyone took elaborate detours to avoid having to pass through the echoingly vacant halls that had housed the pilots' quarters.
And Jarvis sat in his quarters, his arm in a sling, patiently awaiting the sword to fall.
Thirty-five years ago, real-time, he had stepped in to save this Project, after disaster had struck the first time. They hadn't stopped striking since, of course, but none of them had ever been as visible -- as public -- as the first one.
Until now.
Only twenty years had actually passed for him. Like all members of the military, he spent a great deal of his life in cryo-sleep. Right now he wished he could freeze his emotions and sock them away.
Fucking bastard killed more of my kids! he thought now and again. He knew the truth, too; Riddick had been running when he'd taken his shot. If it hadn't been for his shot, his attempt to take over the battle and kill the boy once and for all, Riddick would have left the arena with only two new notches on his belt. He'd slaughtered the fighters as a message, a personal message to Jarvis.
The worst part had been the helplessness. Floating in space in a crippled ship, forced to watch and unable to act as Riddick ran down each of his students and blew them to pieces. Finally he'd thought it would be his turn, but Riddick passed by his wreck, guns silent, in a mocking swoop before leaving the fray. That was when the message had struck him.
I'm not gonna kill you, Riddick had told him with that act. I'm just going to wipe out everything you care about.
More than ever, he knew there was no redeeming the boy. He should never have let him live in the first place. He should have terminated the project and everything in it after the failure of Phase I. He should have burned it to the ground.
More and more, Jarvis felt like a damned soul. Every life Riddick took seemed to hang around his own neck. His fault, his doing. He could have ended it at any time. A simple accident in the prison could have done it. Nobody would have cared; the world would have breathed a sigh of relief. If only that other Riddick didn't still live in his memory, the smiling boy triumphantly shouting "checkmate!" at him from across a hospital bed...
A boy who hasn't existed for almost two decades, he insisted to himself. That boy was Riddick's first victim. That boy is dead and the thing that walks in his place doesn't have the least bit of humanity left. Any time you want proof of that, look in Jack Kowalczyk's file. Then find him, look him in the eye, and pull the fucking trigger this time.
A smart rap sounded against the door of his quarters. "Lieutenant Jarvis?"
Game time, he told himself, and rose. He opened the door and found the petite Corporal from the day before standing in the hallway. She saluted formally.
"Corporal Mizuguchi, Sir. General Baldwin has requested your presence in the briefing room."
He nodded. "Lead the way."
"Sir." She turned smoothly and led him, although he knew the way even better than she did. After a moment he fell into step beside her.
"You did an excellent job yesterday, Corporal."
"Not good enough, Sir," she answered gravely.
"None of us were ready to face him," he said gently. She nodded beside him and drew a breath as if she was about to speak, but then released it with a heavy sigh. "Something on your mind, Corporal?"
He could see her carefully weighing what she wanted to say. Finally she came up with it. "Is there anybody who's actually ready to face him?"
He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe the Fleet, if they were allowed to shoot to kill... he just seems to be stronger every time we encounter him."
It pierced his heart for a moment as the image of a bright-eyed seven year old boy, swathed with bandages but smiling joyfully, floated through his mind once more. Once there had been a genuine human being behind those eyes. Eventually even the eyes had gone, and all that had been left was a soulless monster. Damn, he'd really liked that boy...
That boy has been dead for a very long time, he told himself again. All that's left is the Charybdis. That's all he is, a monster that needs killing.
But there were times when he'd almost thought he'd seen the boy again. The moment after Jack Kowalczyk had been shot, he could have sworn he saw little Bryan Riddick again, just for a moment, staring back with a wounded expression as if he'd been the one shot... For a time he'd hoped that the boy could be saved. He'd hoped that Jack would be the one to save him. Instead, the creature once known as "Bry" had decided she'd betrayed him and he'd tortured her to death. The boy was dead along with Jack.
He stopped before the conference room door as Corporal Mizuguchi fell behind him. "Corporal, I would like you to attend this meeting."
A nervous frown creased her face. He knew what she was thinking: was he about to offer her up as a sacrificial lamb? Hardly. That wasn't how he repaid people. "Yes, Sir."
They entered the conference room and he gestured her to a seat.
Everyone was assembled. Drs. Aspen and Markowski were on hand, along with all four of his surviving Sergeants. Now they were eight. Nine if you counted the grave-looking General whose face filled the viewscreen.
"Thank you for coming, Lieutenant Jarvis. Who is your companion?"
Jarvis nodded to her. "This is Corporal Mizuguchi, sir. She took over the bridge when I left to pursue Riddick. I felt that her observations might be helpful."
Unsaid, but heard by everyone in the room along with the General: This is someone who has earned her place here. Someone on the move upward.
General Baldwin nodded. "First, I want to extend my condolences to all of you. This must be a very difficult time for everyone on board the Messina."
"Thank you, Sir," he said quietly. Why did that phrase feel so rehearsed to him? Oh yes. Jack had used exactly the same inflections every time she'd said that phrase in Parker's office, months ago.
"Under the circumstances, it has been decided by the Tribunal that the Messina will not pursue Riddick to Earth. We feel that your crew, even if they were deemed combat-ready so soon after this tragedy, would no longer be capable of maintaining enough of a level of detachment to facilitate a live capture. The Messina will remain in orbit above Troubadour for the time being."
Jarvis nodded. He hadn't expected anything else, really.
"I am very disturbed by the fact that you, Lieutenant Jarvis, appear to have disobeyed direct orders. Our analysis of your fighter craft's logs indicate that you deliberately targeted the reactor core of one of Riddick's engines. Had your shot actually hit on target, his entire ship would have been vaporized. That is not a disabling shot. You were attempting to kill him."
"Yes, Sir, I was," Jarvis answered softly.
"This is a very disturbing action, Lieutenant. Your impartiality seems to be compromised in this matter. Now, all of us are in agreement that your work for the Project has been superb, and we don't want to have to remove you from your position. But we will have to review these events carefully. You are to remain on or above Troubadour while we do so. You are officially assigned to Administrative Leave for the duration of the review."
These were actually much less stringent measures than Jarvis had expected. He realized that he was disappointed; secretly he'd been hoping that he and the Project were about to part ways.
And then what? he reminded himself. A bullet in the back of the head some quiet night? An accident? Nobody leaves the Project alive.
With one very large, very dangerous exception, of course.
"Yes, Sir," he said after a moment.
"I expect you to use your time to discover exactly what Riddick was doing on Troubadour. Start with the man he killed, Peter Malcolm. If we can find out what motivated him to kill this man, perhaps we can get a handle on his mental state. You are to coordinate with Dr. Aspen and report your findings directly to me."
"Yes, Sir," he said again. He felt like a skipping disc... or a young woman mouthing formal "thank-yous" at the two men she knew were planning on ruining her life. Jack. Always on his mind now, never far from the surface. He hadn't begun to hate Riddick until she'd died.
Dr. Aspen looked up at the viewscreen. "I already have a few ideas about what motivated that killing, General. If I may?"
"Certainly, Doctor."
"Most of us already know what Peter Malcolm had been doing for the last several years. After his body was discovered, he was found to possess an extensive collection of--" her face twisted for a moment in loathing. "--female body parts. Trophies he'd taken from women he'd raped and murdered. He'd preserved them carefully and the forensics unit assigned to the case were able to identify most of his victims through DNA testing. He killed more than one hundred women on six different planets."
Corporal Mizuguchi had never been privy to this information before. Now she retched beside Jarvis, her sudden pallor showing through her beautiful Asian complexion.
Aspen shot the Corporal a sympathetic glance. They'd all been horrified when they'd learned of Peter Malcolm's hobbies.
"Malcolm, as we know, was murdered in a very specific way. His abdominal cavity was opened and his small intestine was drawn out very carefully and wrapped repeatedly around his throat. Riddick did this particular act on only one other occasion, after Miss Kowalczyk was shot, when he believed her to be dead. When he did it to the Special Forces cadets, he killed them first. Malcolm, however, survived for approximately six hours after the evisceration before Riddick finally stabbed him to death."
Aspen took a deep breath. "I believe that this, too, was a revenge killing. I think we should research Malcolm's female victims carefully, as well as any women who died similarly but have not yet been connected with Malcolm. It's very possible that one of them had some kind of relationship with Riddick. We believe he murdered the cadets as a 'punishment' aimed at Lieutenant Jarvis. I believe that he was similarly 'punishing' Malcolm."
"It's an interesting theory, Doctor," the General replied after a moment. "But that would suggest that Riddick has once more established a connection with another human being. I was under the impression that you no longer believed him to be capable of such connections."
"Sir, it's just a theory. It's possible that Riddick attacked Malcolm for some altogether different reason. I'm only suggesting it because of the MO connection between the two incidents. There is, however, an indication that he may have a female companion with him."
"Oh?"
"His ship was registered as the Singing Swan, owned by Roger and Angelica Porter. Someone using the name Angelica Porter purchased toiletries at a store near the Orleans spaceport two days ago. I haven't been able to acquire any additional information yet, but this would indicate that Riddick does have a female companion."
Jarvis found that he'd clenched his fists tightly. Riddick had a hostage. Maybe this "Angelica" thought she was with a safe person. Maybe she even knew who she was with and thought she could trust him. But sooner or later she would end up exactly like Jack Kowalczyk unless they managed to get her away from him.
And he'd been cut out of the loop.
"Very well," Baldwin finally said. "It's a plausible theory and one that needs to be explored. You are to inform the public of Troubadour that Riddick was on their world. You may tell them about the dogfight and its outcome. Do not release the pilots' names, yet. We haven't begun notifying their families. Do your best to get the cooperation of the local government and law enforcement officials. Find out everything you can about Riddick's activities and movements while he was on Troubadour. Find out about this 'Angelica Porter,' if you can. We expect Riddick to reach Earth in another two weeks. I want to know what he plans to do by then."
"Yes, Sir." This time everyone at the table said it.
"One last thing, Lieutenant Jarvis. You will be on administrative leave for the duration of this inquiry. Your Sergeants will be managing the investigation on the planet along with you. I need you to name someone to take command of the Messina until you -- or your successor -- are restored to duty."
Jarvis nodded his head at the woman beside him. "Corporal Mizuguchi displayed commendable skill and resourcefulness yesterday, Sir. She took control of the bridge when I abandoned my post to join the battle. I intended to recommend her for promotion to the rank of Sergeant when I returned from combat, and I still recommend it. I can think of no one better to put in charge for the interim."
"Very well. Corporal Mizuguchi, you are hereby raised to the rank of Sergeant and put in charge of the Messina until further notice. Lieutenant Jarvis's appraisal of your skills is noted in your record. Please be assured that, no matter what the result of our inquiry into his conduct should be, it will have no detrimental effect on your own record."
"Thank you, Sir," Mizuguchi stammered. She'd been taken completely by surprise.
Thought I was going to throw you to the wolves, huh, kid? he thought wryly. I don't do that kind of thing. Maybe Riddick would have, in my place, but I don't. I still have a conscience.
He stared at the darkened viewscreen for a long time after the meeting ended. He was the last one to leave.
God help me, I still have a conscience. And right now it's trying to flog me to death.
Finally he rose and headed for the shuttle bay. It was time to go down to Troubadour and begin cleaning up his boy's latest mess.
40.
Riddick: Honeymooning
Jack watched him silently as he maneuvered the ship close to the comm satellite.
They were still three planets out from Troubadour itself, near the gas giant Harlequin. This particular comm relay should suit their needs perfectly, and should be far enough out of the Messina's scanning range to be safe.
The maneuvers were extremely delicate and Riddick was glad to see that Jack was paying close attention. He'd run her through an obstacle course out in the Oort cloud a few hours ago and her reflexes were excellent. Once he finished teaching her, she would be one of the best pilots in any System. He was thrilled that she would be staying with him well past that day.
He was in position. He locked the ship's controls so that it would stay with the satellite, the two moving in tandem. Finally he turned his attention to their comm equipment.
A quick check proved that all was not completely lost. "They didn't get all of the IDs," he told Jack. "The best news is that they didn't get the Total Eclipse or Tarsin's Chance IDs. That woulda told them all our movements for the last few weeks. But I don't want to reuse either one. Guess we're stuck with..."
Suddenly he began to chuckle. How appropriate! How beautifully appropriate.
"Hey kid, our ship is the Audrey II."
"The what?" She frowned at him. Long ago she'd told him how much she hated her legal first name. She'd been saddled with it in honor of a grandmother who'd disapproved of her son's marriage and hated her daughter-in-law fiercely. Riddick, who had only the vaguest notions of what normal family life was supposed to be like, figured she'd been cheated. Grandmothers, from his understanding, were supposed to be indulgent, fun creatures who were their grandchildren's favorite relatives.
He chuckled. "Hey, it's from a movie. But you're lucky I didn't make the owners Seymour and Audrey Mushnik. It's owned by Matthew and Jennifer Owens."
"Jennifer Owens." She smiled over at him, dazzling him anew. "I like that. So how come your ship profiles all have two owners?"
He raised an eyebrow at her, grinning. "I added in identities for you when I knew you were on your way to Seti Station, kid. Most of 'em were kinda shallow... not meant to stand up to too much scrutiny, but they should get us by as long as nobody is looking too hard at us. Hmmm... let's see how much attention we're likely to get when we land."
He locked the Audrey II electronic profile into the system and keyed in a query, accessing the newsfeeds.
"So are Matthew and Jennifer Owens married?"
"Nah," he chuckled. "Back when I created them, I figured we were gonna be a brother-sister team. Most of the identities got coded in that way as a result. The next batch won't be, though."
The news article he'd been hoping to see appeared on the terminal screen.
RIDDICK SPOTTED ON TROUBADOUR, HEADED TOWARD EARTH!
"Excellent! They bought it, Jack; they think we're on our way to the Terran System." He grinned over at her. She climbed out of the copilot seat and moved around to his side of the cockpit. The moment she was within reach he pulled her into his lap.
"Damn," Jack suddenly muttered. "Looks like I lost all my money."
"Hmm?"
She pointed at a small paragraph far down in the story, one he hadn't read yet.
"Riddick may have an accomplice or hostage with him. A woman going by the name of Angelica Porter appears to be traveling aboard his ship. Whether or not she is his prisoner is currently unknown."
Jack sighed. "Bet you my card is no good anymore."
"Hmm... probably not. Don't worry about it. I got plenty more." He kissed the back of her neck and felt her shiver. Things were going to degenerate into another mindless fucking session soon if he wasn't careful.
They'd ended up spending the entire day in his bed. He'd literally lost count of how many times they'd taken each other. After each time, one of them would comment on how they really needed to get to work now... but it kept on not happening. Only the sudden comical rumbling of both of their stomachs, reminding them that there were other bodily functions that needed attending to, had finally driven them out of bed.
He turned his attention back to the article. Jack in his lap was an enormous distraction. Two paragraphs in, the article mentioned the space battle.
Names hadn't been released yet, but the fact that Riddick had gunned down twenty-four fighter aces had been reported. The official count of his murders had risen from sixty-three to eighty-eight, when Peter Malcolm was figured in. No mention of Malcolm's own grisly activities was made.
Fuck. I did the worlds a favor by taking him out and they're making him sound like a goddamn Boy Scout, he thought angrily. A low growl escaped his throat.
"I love it when you do that," Jack sighed. She tilted her head back onto his shoulder.
"Motherfuckers are starting to piss me off," he muttered angrily. "Seems like anybody I kill is suddenly a candidate for fuckin' sainthood."
She laughed softly in his arms, turning her face toward his. "I didn't much care for it when they beatified me, either, remember? Ooh, look, Earth is on high alert." She leaned up and pressed her lips close to his ear. "You're a scary man," she whispered.
Yeah, things were definitely getting out of hand again. Amazingly enough, though, the animal within him seemed to be blissfully happy for the first time in its entire existence. Not tamed, just sated. But he could feel its hunger for her stirring again.
"Do I scare you, Jack?" he chuckled softly as he slid his hand into her shirt. She wriggled against him as he gently fondled her breast.
"Mmmm... no," she sighed contentedly. She'd closed her eyes. He could smell her arousal growing. His other hand slid into her pants and she moaned.
"You scare me a little," he murmured after a time. "Especially because all I can think about is fucking you. And--"
"And we have work to do," she finished with resignation. "Damn. We can't take a little break?"
"We just finished one fifteen minutes ago. Come on, let's wrap this up and we can take a long break before we hit the planet." He slid his hands back out of her clothing with regret.
He was amazed by how different it was with her than with any of his previous lovers. There were moments when he felt like a whole new world had opened up and he wasn't sure what to make of it. It was, he realized, the first time that he'd put his partner's pleasure ahead of his own.
Not that he'd been inattentive before now, but it had been different. Everything he'd done had been geared toward making his partners receptive to what he wanted, servicing their needs so they would service his. With Jack, however, it had all changed. Nothing seemed to get him off as strongly as watching her have an orgasm. He was astounded by how many different kinds she could have.
Some were explosive and some were subtle; he loved them all. Sometimes she thrashed beneath him, screaming his name. Other times she burst into tears as it hit her. Once she'd gone completely still, her face taking on a look of joyous comprehension as if the secrets of the universe had just been revealed to her.
"Hey you," she said abruptly, nudging his shoulder. "If you're not gonna do that work you were harping on about, I'm dragging you back into the bedroom."
He laughed and kissed her gently. "Just got distracted, thinking about you."
She snorted. "So you got distracted from me by me? Never heard of that happening to anybody before. Wonder what the psychoanalysts would say about that."
"You know they already have me pegged as a total psycho, Jack. They'd just say 'it figures.'"
She laughed and climbed out of his lap. "Get to work, dammit! I wanna fuck!"
He laughed back at her, loving how crude she could be at times. "You want something to do while I finish up here?"
"Sure."
"Okay, move your stuff into my room. We're sharing a bed from now on and yours is just too damned small."
"Finally!" she crowed, her eyes alight. She bounced off toward her room joyfully as he watched.
He chuckled and turned back to the console, forcing himself to concentrate on the programming he needed to do. He moved the ownership title of the Audrey II into Jennifer Owens' name, listing her as the ship's Captain. Hacking into the interstellar banking mainframes, he transferred funds from his hidden accounts into the Owens' coffers. Behind him, he could hear Jack moving things from one room to the other, humming to herself.
He began the tedious process of creating a few backup identities in case they ran into trouble. Jack had finished her work long before he finished his, and he heard her programming the food prep machine. He'd established three sets of backup credentials when the food was ready, and he shut down the console.
"You decide it was dinner time?" he asked, turning around.
She smiled at him wickedly. "I think we're going to need our nourishment..." Promise of a very exhausting night sparkled in her eyes.
"Let me just put in our course, and I'll be right there," he chuckled. He turned back to the navigation panel and began programming. After a few moments, he had it finished. They would appear to come in from Seti Station. The flight back to Troubadour would take sixteen hours.
As he went to sit down across from Jack, he found himself wondering how much of him would be left by then.