SquidgeWorld Archive

The Echo Of Time's Decay
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
AlisonMDobell@aol.com
http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html
* * * * *

He could not believe it. His life hung in the balance in the sick graceful arc of the small round object turning in slow motion through curved air. Two sets of eyes watching it sail above their heads then come tumbling down to land wrong side up. All the air left his lungs, his heart crushed by the weight of untold universes. Hope choking out of him, gravity so heavy he could not move, could not speak, could hardly grasp a single thought in his head. He was fixed on her face with all the passion of the grave. <Oh God, I've lost her. I've lost her>

She watched his stricken face. The realisation a dull ache of pain that was only exceeded by her relief. A way out. Escape. But it gave her no pleasure. A hollow victory. This agony of the heart tearing her in two. Soon it would be over. She would be gone, she would leave him, and they could begin their separate lives without hurting each other any more. She still thought of the other, of John, as her life partner. Her mate. This copy wore his face and devastated her with the faithful echo of his familiar ways but he was not him. Nothing could change that just as nothing could change her decision to leave. He was too numb, too shocked, too distraught to stop her. Loved her too much to force her to do anything against her will. Even something that would destroy his own heart.

They did not say goodbye. She could not hate him. Was sorry it had to happen this way but it was for the best. Everyone except Jool had already left. Rats from a sinking ship. She had no idea what he would do. Whether he would stay with Moya or take off in his module down some damn wormhole looking for Earth. She would have liked to have said she did not care but it was too late for lies. She was not going because she did not care but because she did and it could not be allowed to happen again. Easier for her to walk away now. She could not stand to watch him die again. Clone or not. The doomed logic was all she had to cling to. And Aeryn was tenacious. He stood for arns in the docking bay after she had gone. Staring at nothing, not moving, not aware of the passage of time. Pilot sent a DRD to watch over him, concerned for his well being. Jool did not intrude.

Everybody was gone now except him. He climbed aboard the Farscape 1 and out the hangar door, then hung in the dark ocean of space alone with his thoughts. He needed these microts to absorb the impact of his loss. Trying to understand why she would leave him now. He understood on an intellectual level. Sympathised with her sorrow. Shared her pain. Yet emotionally he was devastated, hurt and confused. He did not think his heart would ever recover. God it hurt. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the silence. He knew he would have to return to Moya soon. His air would not last much longer but he had needed this. Then something drew his eye and he turned his head. What the hell was that? He activated his com. "Pilot? What's happening?"

Silence.

"Hey, Pilot? Yo! Can you hear me?"

The impossible happened. A wormhole appeared and Moya was dragged down the blue funnel which closed immediately afterwards leaving him alone, drifting in space, with less than a quarter of an arn of air left. <Oh crap!>He looked in stunned silence, his disbelieving eyes staring at the spot where the leviathan had been. He checked his instruments. They only ticked off the microts until oxygen starvation would impact on his lungs. <Frell. Another shitty day in paradise> In a way it was funny. Comical even. He had always thought he would not last a microt without Aeryn. Would not want to. Now the decision was being taken out of his hands and he was angry. Frustrated. And realised something else. He did not want to die.

* * * * *

Aeryn was unaware of the drama being played out in her wake. All her thoughts, all her energy focused on the immediate future. She ignored the uncoiling pain in her heart and embraced the leap into the void. Only this void was not empty it was full of stars, planets, suns, moons, asteroids and space debris. It was neither hope nor dispair and held only the emotions she brought with her. A clean slate. A new start. A second chance. Her heart did not recover from the sense of loss. The feeling that she was burning her bridges while still standing on the central span. Would the universe bear her weight or would she fall? She sighed and wondered if it even mattered then she felt a faint movement in her stomach and caught her breath. A smile of pleasure surprised her lips, made her eyes soften in their austere prison and dance with a flutter of joy in the empty expanse where her heart had been. It mattered.

She was so caught up in the miracle of life she failed to catch the strange wash of space warping round her. Weary from spending too long with emotions that threatened to tear her apart, the release of that tension caught up with her and engulfed her in the irresistable seduction of much needed sleep. As the past rushed by her she was insensate to the future being born.

* * * * *

Pilot was frantic. Moya was afraid. Jool just hung on and hoped they all lived to laugh about it later. They had no idea where they were when they came out of the wormhole. It was Jool who put it all in a much more personal context.

"Frell! Now we've lost John!"

* * * * *

Space was a funny place. No. Really. It was hilarious. Crichton knew he was hallucinating. Lack of oxygen did odd things to the human mind. Harvey was not helping either in his clown's outfit. The big red nose, the painted face - which to Crichton looked almost Nebari - the outrageous clashing colours of his clothes and the obligatory huge flat feet were too much for him. He laughed, he cried, he yelled for Harvey to stop so he could catch a decent breath. Harvey pasted on a lunatic smile and promptly fell over his outsized feet. Crichton was sobbing, his ribs ached, it was too much. Harvey was singing off tune, then bowing to an imaginary audience while producing a bunch of paper flowers from up his sleeve. He paused and beamed at Crichton. "Look at me John, I'm a star!"

"No you're not," Said Crichton in a microt of semi-lucidity. He explained why:

"Twinkle, twinkle little star
I don't wonder what you are.
For by spectroscopic ken,
I know that you are hydrogen."

"Spoil sport!" Complained the clone going into a sulk.

"No I'm not. Just quoting a little Ian D. Bush for you. Don't blame me if you can't grasp the fundamentals, Harv. Besides, shouldn't you be trying to get me out of this fix before I die?"

"Us, John. Shouldn't I be getting US out of this fix."

"Whatever." He was slurring now.

Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a look of concern on Harvey's face. Okay, so it wasn't Aeryn and Harvey wasn't real but it was kind of nice to know *someone* cared, even if that someone was only doing so out of self preservation. He actually felt sorry that when he died so would Harvey. How twisted was that? He couldn't believe it. Harvey was singing The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band hit, "I'm the Urban Spaceman." He could feel himself drifting, his eyes starting to close. It must be bad. Harvey was begining to sound quite good. As he hovered on the edge of consciousness Harvey came to the end of the last verse.

"I'm the Urban Spaceman baby,
Here comes the twist -
I don't exist!"

He wanted to laugh, clap, throw coins at his feet but his chest hurt and talking was a mountain he could no longer climb. Lights danced before his eyes, his head felt ready to explode then the stars around him did it for him and he was swallowed up in oblivion.

* * * * *

The planet was everything Aeryn had hoped it would be. Temperate climate, out of the usual spacial corridors for regular trade routes but equable enough to grow the crops it needed and have the necesary minerals and crystals to mine for a fairly stable if stagnant economy. As on most worlds in the Uncharted Territories, bartering was an established and accepted form of commerce. The best thing of all though was finding a mix of Sebacean and other races living side by side. They did not mingle as such but at least they were not trying to kill one another. There seemed to be established areas for each of the resident races and Aeryn quickly found somewhere to quarter down in the Sebacean sector.

It was weird. The planet was mainly a mix of yellows, oranges and reds, but it was not a dustball, not an arid world as the colours would normally suggest. Nothing dry and desert-like here. She had the odd feeling that she was looking at the planet through coloured spectacles that cut out all the cooler colours of the spectrum. It was dren of course but then so was her life right now. As Crichton used to say, *it sucks to be me*. She was so tired. The lady she rented the room from was watching her curiously. Edel was her name. She was married but had two husbands, something that fascinated and repulsed Aeryn in equal measure. She had never heard of such a thing among Sebaceans before. One husband, Garvell, worked the fields. The other, Rovan, was a tech and earnt his living in the market fixing anything that was broken. Aeryn found herself fascinated by his clever hands. Reminding her of other hands. Another tech. Another world. Anothing frelling lifetime. She turned away and went to her room, flopping down listlessly on the bed. Before she realised it Aeryn fell asleep. Sometime during the sleep cycle Edel must have entered her room and put her to bed because when she woke with second light she was undressed and in bed. She looked at herself and noted the simple one piece sleepsuit.

It was surprising how quickly the pattern of her life settled. She liked it here. It was quiet, peaceful and people did not ask questions. Names were only exchanged if you wished it and no one asked about the past. Aeryn sighed with relief and felt for the first time in a long while that she was at last among friends. Edel rarely gainsayed her. If Aeryn wanted to do something the woman would just let her go and do it but when she said she wanted to work the fields to earn her keep the woman was unusually forceful. "No, Aeryn, you cannot!"

Puzzled, Aeryn frowned. "Why not?"

Edel looked at her swelling stomach. "You have a baby to think of."

Aeryn flushed. It was not that she had forgotten she was pregnant, never that. She had been acting as if she was not carrying a child at all. As if ignoring the situation would stop it having any impact on her life. She could not have been more wrong. Edel had reared seven children. All grown up now. Most of them had gone off planet to find their fortunes. Some on starships, some on trading vessels. Only her youngest daughter, Firell, stayed and she had her own place over an arn away.

"I have to earn a living." Said Aeryn stubbornly.

"And you shall." Nodded the woman, straightening her stiff back as Garvell came in from the fields.

Aeryn liked Garvell. He said very little but he had eyes that spoke volumes. A quiet kindly man with a nature that drew animal and man to him as easily as iron filings to a magnet. She felt comfortable around him. Like an old chair. Rovan was more mercurial in temperament. More likely to fly into a temper if Edel did or said anything that did not sit well with him. But to Aeryn's amazement Edel never rose in temper against him however unwarranted his tirade might be. His temper never lasted and Edel knew he did not mean it, that he loved her truly. One day Aeryn asked her about it.

"If a man spoke to me like that Edel I would blast him to hezmana before he could finish closing his mouth!"

Edel laughed, a light husky sound that was like coming home. "There is only room for one temper in any house, Aeryn. Rovan has the temper so Garvell and I do not."

Aeryn frowned and shook her head. "I don't understand it. You are so different yet so happy."

Edel placed a gentle hand on Aeryn's forearm. "My child, when you have lived a little longer you will discover it is not the words spoken but the emotion behind them that you hear. You learn to listen with your heart."

"I don't know how to do that. Perhaps I never will."

To Aeryn's surprise, the woman placed a hand on her swollen stomach. "You will. The child will teach you."

That made her laugh. Aeryn paused when she saw the look in Edel's eyes. "You're serious?"

"Of course. I have been blessed to love two men and be loved beyond my
imagining in return."

Aeryn nodded slowly. She could see that. "I was wondering how that happened. I have never known Sebaceans take two partners."

"You wonder why they do not fight?"

Aeryn lifted her eyebrows, surprised. "Well actually, yes."

Edel laughed. "At first they did fight, each wanting to be the one to win my heart. To have my love to the exclusion of all others but I loved them both for different reasons." She smiled slowly. "I could not choose one over the other so I turned the problem over to them."

"What?"

Edel was chuckling at Aeryn's expression. "Do not be shocked, child. I loved them both, with my whole heart, could not bear to be with one and not the other so I told them. You two must sort out the answer. I want either both of you or none of you. Go away and come back when you have made your decision. Remember, all three of us must be able to live with it afterwards."

For a moment Aeryn simply could not speak. She could not imagine two men agreeing to such a bizaare arrangement. Or any woman wanting them to.

"When you understand more you will judge less, Aeryn. Then and only then will your heart find peace."

* * * * *

Jool was impatient. Pilot watched her pacing up and down his den. "But Moya must have some idea where we are, Pilot?"

Pilot looked apologetic. "I am sorry, Joolusko, but Moya has never been in this part of the Uncharted Territories before. It is all new to her."

"Then how do we know we are still in the Uncharted Territories?"

"If we were not we would be in charted space and Moya would be able to detect where we were."

"Oh." It made sense. Too much sense for Jool. She missed the others. Even though she loved being with Pilot and Moya, she missed having no one else to talk to. Pilot was fixed in his den and there was a limit to how much time she wanted to spend there. She was also worried about Crichton and finding it hard to come to terms with Aeryn's behaviour. Knowing the Sebacean was pregnant made it even harder for her to understand her actions. Crichton had been twinned and she had given herself to one of the twins while denying the existence of the other. With one of them dead she still had the other, right? Being twinned they were the same man so what was the problem? Jool sighed. Thinking about Aeryn gave her a headache. She gave Pilot a sad look. "Keep looking, Pilot. Please."

Pilot smiled at her. Both he and Moya were very fond of the Interon and pleased that she had chosen to stay with them. "Of course. Moya and I are both concerned for Commander Crichton."

"And Aeryn?" Asked Jool softly. "Do you think she'll come back?"

Pilot lowered his head, such sadness in his eyes that Jool regretted the question. "We do not know. Aeryn is... confused. She is in pain. Perhaps when she has had the time to think she will decide to come back."

"You miss her don't you, Pilot?"

"Yes. Aeryn is our friend."

"I don't understand how she could leave John like that. Especially when she found out about the baby."

"We are very sad for them both."

"Yes." Said Jool softly. For them both.

* * * * *

The light was beautiful. A soft pastel blue that was kind to the eyes and soothing to the body even as he slept. His dreams were blue too but of a different shade. He thought of Aeryn. His heart reaching out across the vastness of space looking for her. The other half to his soul. Half. That was funny but not *ha ha*. It hurt. She thought he was a copy of himself. Not real. Not the original. Just some dull replica that could be cast aside without a second thought. A clone. The thought brought Harvey out, a hurt expression on his face. "I resent that, John."

"Why? At least you *are* a clone."

"I thought I had become something more?"

The word hurt Crichton. More. One small simple overlooked word that had changed everything. Propelled Aeryn on a path away from her original destiny. Drawn him into a hopeless love that was doomed to fail even as it blossomed in his heart and mind. More. Ha. That was the sickest joke of all. Then he became aware of a light thrumming sound. A vibration of light passing through him or was it the other way round? Was he the light? He cracked open his eyes just a fraction but the blue-white light though at a low level of intensity almost blinded him. <What the hell is that?> He felt as if he were upright but how could that be? Since when could he sleep upright? He must be dreaming. Yeah, that was it. This was just another frelling dream. He heard crying. Who the hezmana was crying? Was it him? Nope, not him. Who then? It was a shock when he turned his head and saw Harvey with tears running down his leather face.

"What's the matter with you?"

"I'll never see you again."

"What're you talking about?"

"The end."

"Harvey, I am not going anywhere."

"I know, I am."

"You?" He was shocked but also curious. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Seems I'm not wanted any more."

"Who said that?"

"Them."

"Who?"

"THEM!"

That was when Crichton opened his eyes for the second time. The scream almost split his ear drums. This time the tears were his.

* * * * *

Aeryn quickly fell into a relaxed routine. A time of peace and stability the like of which she had never known before. The baby came a weeken early, or so Edel said. Aeryn did not have a clue and deferred to the Sebacean woman in anything outside her own area of expertise. She noticed how Garvell smiled whenever she did that and instead of irritation she felt pleasure. Rovan also seemed pleased but it did not show in the things he said or the expression on his face but in the things he did. The cot he carved for the baby was a stunning work of art to Aeryn. Something she would have expected Garvell to make not Rovan. The two men exchanged a look that seemed to span their differences with a single understanding and Aeryn smiled. It was three days before Edel broached a subject that Aeryn had been avoiding.

"What are you going to call your son?"

She looked at the baby with eyes full of love. A release of emotion that scared her in its' intensity yet fulfilled her as nothing else had ever done in her life before. At first she thought of calling him Talyn after her father, but that name she had already given to Moya's offspring. Then she thought of Jack for Crichton's father but that did not seem quite right either. As she gazed at the baby, still amazed that such a beautiful child had been created from her own body, the child stirred and opened his eyes. Blue pools full of wonder and curiosity. Even as she smiled with love and joy, her heart ached for what she had lost. "John." She said softly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "His name is John."

* * * * *

Pilot was upset. Sad. Despondent. Jool sensed it and tried to reassure him. "It is not your fault, Pilot."

"Moya does not know how the wormhole formed. John would have known but he is somewhere on the other side of it and we cannot get back, Joolusko. Aeryn at least had enough fuel and oxygen to reach the planet she was heading for. John..."

His words petered out. He could not finish what he was saying. Jool gently stroked his cheek, not blaming him for anything. "Pilot, if John were here he would not blame you."

He lifted his huge clamshell head and looked at her. "I know and that makes it worse. Moya wants to do something but what can we do? We are not scientists."

Jool nodded, thoughtful. "John was always looking for wormholes wasn't he?"

"Yes, Joolusko. He wanted to find his way home."

"Does Moya have any of the data he collected?"

Pilot shook his head sadly. "No. He insisted on destroying it so Scorpius would never get his hands on any of his calculations. He always worried that the information would fall into the wrong hands."

The Interon sighed sadly. "Then we'll just have to keep scanning the area and hope that another wormhole opens up."

Pilot raised his eyebrow ridge but did not say anything. He was thinking of the monens he and Moya had spent searching for wormholes for Crichton. He felt Moya's determination to look anyway and shared her resolve. It was the least they could do for their friend.

* * * * *

It was so hard to think straight. The light seemed to penetrate right through him, a blue electric blaze that made his nerve endings tingle. He was not in pain just uncomfortable. Not yet terrified. Mind still kind of numb. He was trying to remember something important. Something he had lost. What was it? Where the frell was he and what was going on? Something hard, sharp and invasive suddenly pierced his consciousness and he screamed. Blue light seared white then splattered with a wash of red like blood. Then black. Had he fainted, lost consciousness or been plunged into darkness? He did not know. Tried to move and found himself strangely divorced from his body. What the hell made him think that? He should open his eyes. Look around. Find out whether this was just a dream or something more sinister.

A voice echoed in his head. It sounded like his father.

"Dad? Hey, Dad, is that you?"

"It's okay son, relax. You're doing fine."

"Where am I?"

"Somewhere safe."

"Well that tells me a whole lot."

"Son, this is gonna sound strange and when you open your eyes it's gonna look strange. Don't be afraid. Can you do that, son?"

"I don't know. Depends on what's going on."

"Open your eyes, John, and remember - you *are* safe."

The reiteration made him nervous. He slowly opened his eyes and almost closed them again in shock. Frell! He was back on the false earth! How in damnation had that happened? Panic made him screw his eyes shut, block out as much as he could but his father's voice still reached him. Calm, soothing and trying to coax him.

"Come on, son, have a little faith."

"Faith?" His eyes popped open, wide and staring and puzzled. "What the hell am I doing back here? I'm dreaming, right? This is a nightmare."

"No, John, you are not dreaming and this is no nightmare. We need your help."

Those words sobered him up. Fast. Trembling he tried to look around but found he could only really move his eyes. "What have they done to me?"

"You haven't been harmed, nor will you be."

"Why can't I move?"

"Look down."

"What?"

"Look down John."

He looked down then immediately wished he had not. He closed his eyes and felt an attack of vertigo. There was nothing below his feet but open space, yet if he glanced in front or to either side of him he was back in that room on the false earth where the Ancients had introduced themselves to him. In fact, if he looked up he could see them in their crysalis stages, insectile jointed bodies folded up in those nets or cocoons. Right now he had the rattlers so bad he would not have been surprised if they could hear them.

"John!"

"Where the hell are you? I can't see you."

"Look up."

He looked up again and one of the aliens opened its' eyes, the crysalis net opening at the bottom so it could drop down and hover in front of where he hung. Crichton could feel nothing holding him up, nothing tying him, but he was as immobile as if he had been bound hand and foot. "Why can't I feel my body?"

"I don't want you to panic." Said the alien carefully in his father's voice. "You are not in your body."

"What?"

"You are in mine."

His mind was doing all kind of somersaults now. He shut his eyes tight. <This can't be happening, it had to be a trick, a nightmare. Lack of oxygen did funny things to the brain. That was it>

"John!"

"Go away, you're not real!"

Something touched his mind. Something glittering and alien that slid among his thoughts and made him shiver with deep revulsion. "Get the hezmana out of my mind!" He yelled.

The touch withdrew crawling in slow motion as it slithered through his mind leaving a sense of the alien's presence that made him think of the trail left by snails and slugs. The image of slime a manifestation of the unwanted intrusion. "We do not mean to alarm you."

"Too late for that, ET."

"We are running out of time."

"Yeah well join the queue. My oxygen is so low I must be on fumes."

"We are controlling your lifesigns."

He was sure he must have misheard. "You're doing what?"

"You are in no danger, John. We have you but we need your help."

He laughed. They needed *his* help? He was dying and they had come to find him, ask for help. Just who was kidding who here? "I can't help you."

"You are wrong."

For a few moments there was silence. Crichton had the weirdest sensations going through his mind. His thoughts shuffling seemingly at random but with a kind of desperate pattern to them. As if someone else was rifling through his thoughts, his memories, touching off feelings of panic and stress. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"We do not have much time."

"If you want something just ask, okay? No sneaking around in my mind."

A pause. "Okay, John. Whatever you say."

He started to calm down. Amazing really what the human mind could adapt to accept as normal. "What do you want?"

"We have not found a suitable planet."

"Where do I come in?"

"We were thinking of your earth."

"No, no, no, NO! Did you people learn NOTHING from last time? My people are so primative and paranoid they would blow you to pieces before you came within a thousand miles of the White House Lawn!"

"We are dying, John."

"Going to my homeworld would just speed up the process. Do you understand?"

Another pause. A little longer this time. His father's voice sounded thoughtful and determined. "What if they did not see us as aliens, John?"

"What are you thinking of?"

"I appeared to you as your father."

The dime dropped. "No! Absolutely not! You are not going down to earth pretending to be humans."

"Why not? It would be less invasive. Your species would not panic, not attack us."

"You can't trick your way down there."

"What options do we have? We are dying."

"Yeah," Said Crichton softly, his voice sad, his mind racing - trying to find an answer.

"We want to send you as our ambassador."

Crichton wanted to laugh only right now he was closer to tears. How could they trust him that much? Put the fate and lives of their entire species in his hands? Hell. He couldn't even find his own way home and now here were the Ancients with a first class ticket home only he would be taking a few hitch-hikers along with him. Oh yeah, that would go down real swell. Peachy. A thought occurred to him. "Why am I in your body?"

"They will see you - John Crichton. They will welcome you back. You will be a hero. Who better to represent our cause for us?"

"It won't work. They'll make tests, find out I'm not who I pretend to be and wham. I - or rather you - get dissected. We lose your body and my brain. Nobody wins."

"You understand John," Said his father's voice quietly. He sounded upset. "We have to try."

He wanted to argue. To rant and rail at them but he could see their point. See how desperate their situation was. Alien or not his heart went out to them. How could he just turn his back on them and leave them to die? They were sentient beings. Ancient. Venerable. Peaceful beings who had come to him for help. The scientist in him wanted to find a solution to their dilemna. The humanitarian in him wanted to save him. The explorer in him wanted to see their home world, their culture, understand and interact with them intellectually. "I should just go down in my own body. Check it out before exposing any of you to danger."

"No time."

"Look, I know how you feel, or rather I imagine I know how you feel. How I would feel if it was me in your shoes but rushing this won't make it work."

"We need to test our physiology on your planet. See if we can acclimatise and thrive."

"So you need to get one of your bodies down on my planet?"

"Yes."

"What do you need me for?"

"Acceptance."

"Acceptance?"

"Yes. They will see a favoured son of earth returning home. You will be safe and if I am with you I will be safe also."

"Um, what about when they examine me? You know, the tests?"

"I can mimick you."

"No, it's not enough to *look* like me..."

"You misunderstand, John. I can mimick your lifesigns, your heartrate, metabolism, even your blood and DNA."

"Woah! How the hell are you gonna do that?"

"When we picked you up we took samples, we also recorded much of your biological input. We can mimick and produce whatever data their intruments seek to detect. By anticipating their needs we can ensure that they find *exactly* what they are looking for."

"That still doesn't explain how you expect to fool the most advanced medical scientists on my planet. After all, you're not human. You don't *think* like a human even if you can make yourself look like one."

"That is why your mind is in my body."

Crichton felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. Too shocked to speak. <Oh God, they were really going to go through with this. They were all frelled>

The image of his father smiled. He knew that look so well it brought a lump to his throat. "Son. You're just gonna have to trust me."

* * * * *

It was hard not to panic. John had only been out of her sight for an arn but to a young mother an arn could seem like a lifetime. She ran between the long rows of crops but could not see him. How could he move so fast, cover so much ground, when he was just a child? Nearly three cycles old and he was faster on his feet than she was. At times she could not believe so much time had passed. Everything felt like yesterday. Then there were times when it felt as if she had always lived here. Been absorbed into the consciousness of both planet and people from the microt she had first landed. It reminded her of something that John Crichton had once said to Ka D'Argo then repeated to her later after his sojourn on Aquarra. His words had not meant much to her at the time but now they rang with a resonance that brought the threat of tears. *Since I left my home I've been hunted, beaten, locked up, shanghaied, shot at... I've had alien creatures in my face, up my nose, inside my brains, down my pants... This is the first time, the first place, that I've found peace." She took a steadying breath. Now she understood.

She searched for what seemed like many arns before stopping in her tracks at a rare sound. The light joyful laughter of a child. Her heart leapt. John. Smiling with relief she followed the sound and emerged by the big lake to see her son sitting on the bank with his bare feet dangling down into the water while mosh marki slithered and tickled his toes. The more the gelatinous rod fish swarmed around his unprotected feet the higher the laughter grew. Beside him sat Garvell, his face calm and reflecting the joy of the child in the heart of the man. Aeryn felt a stab of concern. Fought not to over react, startle John, make him afraid.

"John, why did you run off? You scared me?"

He turned his head and laughed back, those blue eyes touching her heart anew each time he looked at her. "The air is so hot and the water is so cool!"

Aeryn was next to them now. She hunkered down next to her son. "John, mosh marki have a deadly sting."

Garvell smiled gently at both of them but his words were for Aeryn. "Only if you startle them or show fear. Like us they are sentient beings, Aeryn. Fear is the enemy unseen."

She bit back her irritation. Garvell was right but it did nothing to dampen her protective instincts. Sensing this, Garvell smiled at John. "My toes are cold John, how about we find some gombakka and make your mother a treat?"

John laughed and pulled his feet out of the water without even thinking, the mosh marki slithering away like disappointed children when a friend has to leave them. Garvell stepped out of the water with equal nonchalence. He could tell by the look in Aeryn's eye that he was in for a tongue lashing when they were out of the child's earshot but it had been worth it. She smothered the child with her own insecurities and while she had calmed and settled, part of her still lived her life on the edge. He would speak to Edel. Perhaps they would find a way to help Aeryn. In the meantime he was just as determined to let the son grow up with no shadow hanging over him. Edel would say he was interferring. Rovan would say he was becoming too attached to the boy. Garvell suspected a little of both. It was called life and he would not live in fear of it.

* * * * *

It took a long time to convince the human that going to Earth was the only answer. He looked at the Ancient, his insectile body had long since stopped repulsing him. Even though he insisted in speaking to him in his father's voice he did not adopt the illusion of his body this time and for that he was grateful. Something still puzzled him.

"I don't understand. You say my mind is in *your* body so where's my body?"

"It is in what you would call statis."

"You mean like suspended animation?"

"Yes."

"Okay, not sure if I buy that, but let's say I do. That doesn't explain how you are standing or hanging or hovering or whatever in front of me having this conversation in *that* body if I am in *your* body. What is this, a bad remake of The Return of the Body Snatchers? I thought I'd seen every version of that movie."

"I am projecting my mind into another of my species so that you will not be overwhelmed."

"Excuse me? *Not* be overwhelmed? In case you hadn't noticed I have been nothing *but* overwhelmed since you sucked me through that wormhole and shot me into another galaxy!"

"We did not create that wormhole, John. You did."

"So what was the map home? That little gift, the poison chalice. What was that all about?"

"The wormhole technology as you have since found out is very dangerous. If it fell into the wrong hands the nightmares you have encountered in this galaxy would be able to travel to your galaxy and your planet would have no defence against them. Humanity would perish."

"Why give it to me then? Or was it some kind of test?"

"It was no test. After we used your memories of Earth to stage a reconstruction we felt we wanted to do something for you. Give you a measure of hope. But we did not want the gift to be used in a foolhardy way, to allow others to follow where you might lead. We gave you the means but not the knowledge to access those means. The intent being that as you advanced and made more discoveries the truth would be slowly opened up to you. A truth which would ultimately lead you home."

"Yeah, well I appreciate all the caution but in case you haven't realised we are not a long lived race. Compared to the Nebari, Sebaceans, Hynerians and Delvians our lives pass in a handful of cylces. The average human life span can be anything from 70 to 100 cycles. With the improvements in modern medicine, a lot more of my people now live to 100 give or take a couple of cycles. But that's it. After that, lights out, it's over. You guys, how long do you live? Hundreds, thousands of cycles? So excuse me if I'm not that patient. I'm only human."

For a moment the Ancient did not say anything. Crichton wondered if he had offended him. Then the Ancient spoke, this time his father's voice seemed to be coming from inside his head. "Does this pain you, John?"

"Pain me? No. Are you in my head?"

"No. You are in *my* head. I am in your mind."

Crichton shook himself mentally. He had forgotten for a moment that he was not in his own body. Man was this ever weird. Maybe he could sell the script to Speilberg? At least they could buy something other than food cubes to lives off of. Now there's a thought. Speilberg reduced to food cubes. It made him chuckle then he remembered where he was and that this was no laughing matter. The Ancient was talking again. From *inside* his mind now.

"Can you carry me, John?"

"Carry you?"

"Like this. In your mind."

He thought about that then remembered something he had been meaning to ask. "Where's Harvey?"

"Harvey?"

"Yeah, the guy who was in my head before you moved in."

"Ah, the neural clone."

"You know what he is?"

"Yes."

He paused, not sure if he wanted an answer to his next question but holding his breath mentally all the same. "Did you kill him?"

"No. He has been placed elsewhere."

"What does that mean, elsewhere? You sent him away?"

"Do you want us to send him away?"

He thought about that. What would it be like to have no Harvey? When this was all over would he be on his own somewhere in the Uncharted Territories slowly going nuts without even his echo to talk to? Did he want that? Did he want the alternative? Or maybe he could now go home? If he helped the Ancients and his people accepted them then he, John Crichton, idiot astronaut and sometime human punchbag of the Uncharted Territories could leave all this dren behind and go home. See his Dad. DK. Eat hotdogs and watch a few games. Go fishing and this time catch nothing more remarkable than normal honest-to-goodness fish. No weird reptiles, no mind altering jellyfish. Harvey. Was that the cost? He thought about his last image of Harvey, crying his eyes out and telling him he was being sent away. This was nuts. He was having an attack of conscience over something that was fabricated, something that was not even real. Yet a tiny nagging part of his mind had given the clone a personality. Made him other than he was. In John's mind the clone had already become a seperate person. So did that mean clones had rights? The Ancient was still waiting for an answer. For guys in one hell of a hurry to save their species they sure had a flexible idea of when to take their time. The Ancient must have heard his thought. Silly. Of course he did. They were both in his mind now. No more privacy screens for you, John boy.

"Time is not linear, John. It is flexible, elastic." The Ancient paused. "It follows the nature of the Universe. If it did not existence would be finite."

"Existence is finite. I live. I die. Ergo, I am finite."

"No, John. That is your perception caused by the duration of consciousness. Do you count the ticking of the celestial clock while you sleep? Time is a highway you can dip in and out of. The desire for order in the universe creates a structure imposed on time. Not the other way around."

"My friend DK would just love you guys!"

"Which brings me back to the question of the clone. We can excise him from you forever if you choose."

"What does that mean?"

"He will be left to slowly degrade and pass from his limited consciousness into oblivion."

"You mean do the Eskimo equivalent of leaving him out on a God-damn ice flow to die? Is that it?" He was almost yelling. Upset and not really sure why he was so upset.

For a microt there was silence then the Ancient spoke again. "It's okay John, we won't harm him. When this is over we will return him to you."

"Unharmed?"

"Unharmed." The Ancient agreed quietly.

Was he imagining it or did the Ancient sound a little sad? "Okay." He took a mental breath. Not sure why Harvey's continued existence was so important to him and unwilling to follow that line of thought any further. He would handle any fallout later. "What do I have to do?"

* * * * *

Jool was beginning to think they were never going to find any of the others. She wanted to press on, explore and look for anywhere with the prerequisite solar flare activity to indicate the formation of wormholes. To her surprise Pilot did not agree. "I thought we wanted to find John?"

"Yes, Joolusko, but this is where the wormhole deposited Moya. This is the most likely place for that phenomena to repeat itself."

"You know that?"

A pause. "No but from our observations of John and his research, this would be the sort of thing he would do. He would not leave unless he had exhausted the possibility that another wormhole would form here. For a primative species he was very thorough in his research."

"How long do you suggest we wait?"

Pilot was silent.

"Pilot?"

He lifted his large clamshell head and looked at her reluctantly. "We do not know."

* * * * *

Dominar Rygel XVI was stunned into complete silence. The crew he had hired with his share of the money from Moya coupled with his own hidden funds had purchased the pirate ship The Nexim and a motley crew of mercenaries for hire. But nothing. Nothing could prepare him for what he found on his return to Hyneria. The world that had spawned a thousand Dominars. The world that had been the cradle of existence for species beyond number to hail and adore them. The only home he had ever known. The only thing he had ever really cared about. Ashes. Everything was reduced to ashes. The enormous palace complex fluttered with ghost like blackened flakes in the wind. The massive pillars of his audience chamber no more than rubble. The domed extravaganza of the Perpetual Gardens was flattened. The air was thick and acrid. The desolation so complete that Rygel wept not caring that his face could be seen.

So deep was his grief that the others left him. No one intruded or demanded instruction from him. Grief was something that all species had in common. A fundamental loss they could all undestand. Who could have done this terrible thing? Not his cousin. He had most likely perished along with the rest of the royal line. A shadow seemed to fall over him. He heard the unsettled murmerings of the crew behind him. Rygel looked up at the huge viewscreen. His mouth dropped open at the enormous vessel now blocking their path to the devastated planet below. In a million cycles he would never mistake the sight of a Scarran Dreadnought. His heart did not falter but hardened with a dark raging anger and the burning fires of revenge.

* * * * *

It was warm and bright. The crops had produced a good yield. None would go hungry this cycle. Edel was happy. Content. Her eyes drifted over to where Aeryn sat quietly stripping and cleaning her weapons. It had been over a cycle since she had last done that. The habits of her people were hard for the Sebacean ex-Peace Keeper to break and that worried Edel.

"What is troubling you, Aeryn?"

Aeryn was slow to look up. Her expression absorbed. "I can't help feeling as if I am stuck in a dream."

Edel raised her eyebrows. They were the only two at the house. Both out on the wide porch enjoying the fine weather while taking advantage of the shade of the canopy above their heads. "A dream?"

A sigh escaped her lips. The oiled cloth glided over her pulse rifle. She could strip and reassemble every weapon she had in the dark and not miss a beat. "Yes." Her hands hesitated then smoothly snapped all the parts back into place until the weapon was reassembled. Aeryn looked at Edel. Her expression serious. "Edel, how long have I been here?"

"Five cycles, why?"

Aeryn looked off into the distance, her voice sounding distracted. "Only yesterday John was approaching his third cycle." She looked at Edel again. Her expression puzzled, troubled.

"What is yesterday?"

"The solar day before this one."

"We do not know that term."

"Edel, I have been trying to work out how long ago I landed here. But everything has become a blur. Time has no meaning for me. A solar day becomes a cycle, a monen no more than a passing microt. At other times a microt seems to last forever." Aeryn paused, taking a few breaths to calm down the racing of her heart. She could not lose control now. After everything else she had gone through, she did not want to finally lose to a form of madness that had no cure. "And my son." Her voice broke off. "My son is growing before my eyes, Edel."

Edel smiled gently. "As is nature."

"No!" Said Aeryn fiercely. Her vehemence startled Edel. Aeryn tried to keep her voice calm. "Not as in nature, Edel. When I first came here it was hard to adjust. The peaceful settlement has healed much of my anger, my pain, but it has not given me understanding."

"What are you looking for, Aeryn, that you cannot find here?"

Aeryn did not know how to answer her. Looking back was something she did not do yet since she had met Crichton and lost him, that was all she ever did. She could not live like this. Yet what was the alternative? Every solar day that passed her son grew more curious about his father. She had watched as the bond had deepened between Garvell and John. Had joyed in that connection at first but now it troubled her. Haunted her conscience with what she had done. How would her son react when he knew the truth? That she had left his father out of fear? Not fear that she would come to harm. Not fear that he would not love a child of theirs. But fear of being loved so intensely, so completely, that would lose her own identity. She looked back for the courage to know how to move forward and in looking back she saw her own reflection. The face seemed to accuse her of cowardice. Of cheating her son out of his heritage. The solution rang in her heart like a bell. It was time she told her son about his father. Time to stop hiding and tell him the truth.

Oddly enough, once she decided it was the only way she became calmer. The light of the twin suns touched her with warmth while the gentle breeze cooled her and the canopy sheltered her from too much heat. She looked at Edel and a smile settled on her lips in apology. "I'm sorry, Edel. Forgive me, I did not mean to sound ungrateful."

"There is nothing to forgive." Said Edel with an answering smile. Relieved that Aeryn seemed to have found her center again.

Aeryn said nothing. Edel was wrong. There was so much that needed forgiveness. So much she had done in fear and to avoid the emotional cost of facing up to life. In her dreams she saw him still. His gentle face, his kind eyes, his loving touch. Everything bespoke of his love for her. She could ask anything of him and he would give it right up to the last breath in his body. And how had she repaid him? She had run away. Not even brave enough to tell him the truth. This pathetic deficient human had shown her the true meaning of courage. Had taught her compassion. Love. Had given her the one thing she never thought possible. A conscience. It no longer mattered that she had given herself to his twin and shut him out. She knew they were the same man. The fault had never been his. It was hers. No. She would not hide any more. The first step would be to talk to her son. It was a conversation that had taken five cycles for her to accept as necessary. She just hoped that at the end of it he would forgive her. That he would not hate her. She turned her head away so that Edel would not see the tears in her eyes. Even if her son forgave her, how could she ever forgive herself?

* * * * *

Jack Crichton loved the Spring. A time of growth, new beginnings. Of optimism. DK preferred the Autumn. Loved the colours of the Fall, the deep cloak of leaves that scattered his footsteps when he took to the woods. A thousand memories he had once shared with John. An ache in his heart that would never heal. A wound he could not bind because it would be like shutting him out. Denying that he had ever existed. John was the brother he had always wanted. The friend who was closer to him than his own soul. More than an echo. It was as if when the two of them were together they only cast one shadow. Losing John had been the single most traumatic event of his life. He would never admit it to Jack but it hurt more than losing his mother. Every day he grieved. Every night he had recurring dreams. He saved the nightmares for morning. The loneliness of another day without him in his life. No shared laughter, no silly pranks, no finishing each other's sentences and indulging in the same dreams. The same passions. He would have done anything for John and now he was at the other end of the spectrum. Unable to a damn thing. And it was killing him. Slowly. Like a God-damn cancer.

Jack did not know about his drinking. That was the official line. Okay, so maybe he suspected but if he did he was too much the gentleman to make it obvious. Concern could only stretch so far when you were bleeding too. This battlefield had too many casualties already. DK had convinced himself that he hid his grief well. When he was not working he went off to the cabin in the woods, the one by the lake where they loved to camp out and do night fishing. It was really just an excuse to chill out, talk through the night and sip their beers while they let their lines hang slack in the water. It wasn't about the fish. That was incidental. A convenient excuse to get out of the house and cut themselves some slack. Sometimes they actually caught something then they would play rock, scissors, paper to see who had the honour of gutting and cleaning the damn things so they could cook them. Yeah. Sometimes the damn fish just got in the way.

He was at the cabin now. Weekend off. The stubble had been forming all week. No one had said anything though a few eyebrows had been raised when the designer stubble had turned to scruffy week old growth, untrimmed and ragged. A lot like DK himself. He sat out on the wooden jetty, no attempt made to bait a hook and cast his line. The equipment stayed in the back of his four track. The beer sat at his feet, handy and cool. Night was beginning to fall, the cool crisp air stirring his short hair and touching him like the hands of many ghosts. All of them just passing through. He wondered if one of those hands belonged to John. Was he looking down on him even now? A guardian angel he would never see? He hoped so but just as the thought formed he dismissed it and wished with all his heart that it was not so. That somewhere in the vastness of space he still existed. He would not care never seeing him again, never being able to share a football game or ice hockey or even a pizza if it meant he was okay. Somewhere. He took another sip of his beer, tilted his head back to watch as the stars came out. His eyes glistening with unshed tears making the shining pinpricks of light fuzzy. His breath was unsteady with emotion. Everything all wrapped up inside him so tight it hurt to take a breath.

* * * * *

He was growing so fast. Aeryn looked at her son with pride and love and a deep abiding ache in her heart which she tried to hide. Rovan had taken him into the market to barter for parts for a cooling engine he was building for the house. Edel had not said anything specific, just dropped hints about it being the hottest it had been in cycles. The covered porch was no longer cool enough, the breeze that used to sweep across the porch had become hardly a breath to stir the dry air. Garvell was in the fields tending the crops. Creating shelter for the tender shoots though the harvest had been good this cycle and the yield was high, the last of the crops were suffering in the heat.

The market place was full, the pace of commerce slow. Rovan spoke to John, noting how strong and healthy the boy was. His calm and gentle nature at odds with his mother's fiery temperament but each strangely complimenting the other. John was eleven cycles old and had a good head on his shoulders. His quick eye had often detected bargains before even Rovan had spotted them but he had a tendancy to wander off, to get carried away with the things he saw. Fascinated by everything and anything his enthusiasm was hard to resist. His inate kindness making him many friends even when he was unaware of it. Garvell had formed a strong bond with the boy early on and they would carry on endless seemingly meaningless conversations without ever becoming bored. It used to annoy Rovan. Was so pointless. He had even told Garvell he was ruining the boy with his foolishness but Garvell had simply smiled in his quiet way and let him find out for himself. Over the cycles his determination not to get overfond of the boy had crumbled completely. And it seemed even their daughter Firell was not immune. Eighteen years John's senior she wore her age with timeless grace. She had never married though many had tried to court her. Firell's standards were either too high or her suitor's were too low. Either way there seemed little middle ground. Her initial interest in the boy had been curiosity. His total lack of aggression fascinated her. It was so unSebacean.

Rovan watched John covertly. Noted how his hands had a natural gift with anything mechanical. Give him an engine and within microts he would dismantle it. Within the arn he would have cleaned it and reassembled it. Always ready to help. A smile on his face and a kind of joy he carried inside him that won over even the most truculent of visitors. Having the boy on the stall had been a stroke of genius. He always wanted to talk to people, wanted to know about them, their culture. He was good for business. Some people were suspicious but a few microts in John's company and they soon realised his interest was genuine, his words simple truth. Looking at the boy Rovan had a good idea of what his father must be like. A fleeting sadness touched his heart and as if sensing his change in mood, the boy looked up and their eyes met across the intervening workbench. John smiled slowly, his look gentle, a wisdom beyond his cycles staring back at Rovan. In the name of Cholok the boy seemed to be comforting the man. Rovan smiled back and felt a little surge of pride. He could not love him more if he had been his own son.

* * * * *

Jool was excited. She turned her glowing face to Pilot. "Solar flares!"

He nodded, his four arms moving without pause as he monitored Moya's controls and followed the readings. "Yes, Joolusko."

"Can you see any wormholes forming, Pilot?"

"Not yet, Joolusko. We must be patient."

She was dancing around on the balls of her feet. So excited she almost missed the fading message crackling suddenly over the com. "What the frell was that?"

"Moya is trying to increase the signal." He paused a microt. "It appears to be some kind of distress signal."

"Could, could it be John?"

Pilot shook his head, adjusting his contols. Listening intently to whatever Moya was telling him. "No, it is not John."

"Aeryn?"

Another shake of his head then a surprised look. Pilot looked up in vague shock and pieced enough of the signal together to put it through the com. "It's Rygel! He's asking for help."

* * * * *

He was definitely losing it. Oxygen deprivation had that effect. It was the buffeting of atmosphere that roused him enough to try to steady his module. "What the hezmana...?"

The sight of familiar continents made him blink. Hard. "Hey Harvey, are you getting this?"

Silence. Great. Just when he could do with confirmation he had to go clam up on him. This had to be a dream, right? No way could this be Earth, it was just his dying brain trying to grant him one last wish before he croaked. That was when he heard it. Loud and clear and echoing inside his mind as if it belonged there. His father's voice. Oh boy was he ever screwed.

"John, be careful where you set down. You're likely to set off every panic button there is."

"Dad?" He shook his head. "This can't be real."

"This is absolutely real, John. I said I'd be with you and I am. Listen to me and I'll guide you."

A look of disbelief came over Crichton's face. "*You'll* guide *me*?" He laughed none too steadily. "Excuse me if I don't sound grateful Dad - or whoever the hell you are - there is no way I am listening to some looney-tune locked inside my skull. So go, vamoose, take a hike!"

"I can't do that. I'm the reason you're here."

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm sure mom would have something to say about that."

"John, listen. I'm not your father."

He was laughing hard by now but it was pained hysterical laughter, the wrong side of funny. He was hurting but too far gone to know how much. "Man, you don't know how much I wish you were wrong."

"It's time for you to remember our conversation."

Then like a flash images sparked in his head. The shock almost stole the last of the air from his lungs. "You're one of the Ancients?"

"Yes."

"How do I know this isn't some other experiment? You know, *another* false Earth?"

"You're going to have to trust me on that, John. But we don't have much time. Do you know where you are?"

Confused he fastened on the only thing that comforted him. The view below of Earth. His home world. Cookies and flapjacks. Hotdogs and Superbowl. "Yeah, that's the Eastern Seaboard of the United States."

"We need to set down somewhere safe."

Crichton laughed. "You bring me all this way then you ask for *safe*?" He peered again down at the land masses peeking out between high cloud cover. "Well, we can't land there."

He manouevred his craft thousands of miles on, fascinated by the curvature of his home planet as he drank in the features that quenched the longing in his eyes for images of home. Home. The thought made him swallow hard with emotion. This was not real. Could not be real. Yet it was seductive. He watched the Earth turn under him, showing another face. Eyes now keener, picking out and more and more precious details until he found what he was looking for. Australia. "Okay, this is it."

"Is it safe?"

"You don't want much, do ya?"

"No more than you, John. I just want to live. For my people to be safe. Is it so much to ask?"

"Yeah, in this case it is. I still can't believe I'm falling for this."

"When you are safely down I'll show you."

He was not sure he liked the sound of that but wasn't that what he wanted? Proof?

"I won't hurt you." Said the Ancient gently in his ear. From the wrong side of his eardrum.

<Too late for that> Thought Crichton.

They landed within a quarter of a mile of his father's cabin. It was the most remote yet civilised place he could think of. The one place in his life where he had always felt safe. How practical it was did not come into it. The voice in his head wanted details, specifics. Crichton told him, all the while wondering just what the hell he had got himself into this time. "Okay, now you know what I know we have to hide the module. Can't risk anyone seeing it and raising the alarm."

Crichton coaxed the engine and taxied gently into cover. Cutting the power he jumped out and began to break off branches and use whatever was to hand to camoflage his ship. It would not fool anyone for long up close but his main concern was being spotted from the air. No way had his entry been undetected. The most he could hope for was time. Breathing space. A brief window of opportunity.

Now it came to it he was nervous. "Okay. You said once we were down you would show me."

"Find a pool, a stream, a body of water."

"Water?"

"Yes, I need to show you something and you need to be able to see it."

He frowned, a deep line forming on the bridge of his nose but he complied anyway. He wanted this over as quickly as possible. If that meant humouring the Ancient, so be it. But part of him was also curious. He went to edge of the lake, about 500 yards from the wooden jetty he and DK used to fish. It had been their spot. Their little island of calm in a world of chaos. How he missed that calm now. When he got to the water's edge he stopped. "What now?"

"Look down into the water, John. And whatever you see don't look away."

He looked down. Curious. At first all he could see was himself in his flight suit. Helmet back in the module. Okay, so his face looked thinner than when he had left and there were fine lines that hadn't been there when he had set out but otherwise nothing remarkable. Then the image warped and shimmered and the next moment he was looking down at the image of an Ancient. He knew he had been told he was inside the Ancient's brain but he had not really believed him. The illusion of a human body had completely fooled him. Felt so real, so familiar, so much like the man he was that he had assumed the Ancient had been kidding. Now he was not so sure. He looked from the image in the water to himself. The body he was wearing still looked like John Crichton but the image in the water was that of the alien race he had come to know as the Ancients. As he peered down the eyes caught and held him with a touch of reality that made him shudder deep inside. Recognising the awful truth.

"I'm an Alien?"

"No, John. You are inside an Alien."

This was freeking him out.

"Stay calm, John."

"You stay calm! You hijack me - again - bring me to what may or may not be Earth and expect me to ride around inside your brain and be your Ambassador to Humanity? And people say *I'm* crazy!"

"What do you want me to tell you?"

He took a moment. "I want to see *your* homeworld."

He felt a sense of shock as if he had surprised the Ancient. "My homeworld is gone."

"Yeah, I know, so you say. I want to see it. You know, the before and after. I want to know what everyday life was for you guys before you set out looking for a new home. Your culture, that kind of thing."

His father's voice was slow, considering what he was being asked and why. "This will help you?"

"It'll help me understand. It'll tell me whether or not your people could ever settle on my world."

"We are not a violent species, John."

"Yeah, well I wish I could say the same for my people."

He felt a sudden rush then almost instaneously images melted into him, it was the only way he could describe the indescribable. Surprise made him speak out. "We're underground?"

"My people do not live on the surface of our world. We are very creative, our vast domed cities beneath the ground make your structures on Earth look primative. The work of children."

He did not respond, his eyes too full of impossible images like being sucked inside an Escher print the amazing structures just went on and on blending in with each other in a beautiful symetry and grace that left him speechless. He saw the aliens moving about singly and in groups, learnt how their social structure worked. The telepathic way they communicated not only their thoughts but their feelings. No barriers. No divisions. If he was honest it kind of blew his mind. He was amazed, impressed, and totally unprepared for their level of knowledge and sophistication.

"My God, it's incredible!"

He did not feel pride or smugness from the Ancient. Just acceptance that his opinion was one honestly expressed. "Now you can see how easy we were to eliminate. By the time we realised there was a threat we could not get our people above ground and off world quickly enough to escape the holocaust."

The word made Crichton shudder. Too many wrong images. The extermination of the Jews. Death camps. Schindler's List. It was all scrolling through his thoughts like yesterday. Oh God, he could not let this happen again.

"None of this was your fault, John."

He felt like laughing but that would mean pushing sound beyond the pain of his phantom heart. Right now he just did not feel strong enough.

"You understand now?"

He caught enough breath to utter a few words. "Yeah, I understand."

Then Crichton had a thought. "If you can accomplish all that, what else can you do?"

"You mean," Said his father's voice slowly. "Why can't we save ourselves?"

"Yeah."

The Ancient took a few moments before replying. All the sorrow in the Universe wrapped up in his father's voice. "Because we no longer had a world, John. We didn't just lose most of our people, we lost our culture, our home, *everything*. The few of us who escaped are the last of our kind. If we fail it is not just for today it is forever."

* * *

Aeryn felt weird. This was so frelling odd yet neither Edel nor her husbands saw anything amiss. John came smiling through the field of crops where she was helping Garvell with the harvest. He had just turned eighteen cycles and was looking more and more like his father with every solar day. It made her heart ache anew just to look at him. All grown up. A man. And that was only half the problem. A couple of dench behind him came Firell, her movements echoing his. She was like his shadow. It gave her the strangest feeling. Frell. Just what the yotz was going on? John noticed the look on her face and came and knelt down next to where she was working the soil. "Hey, mom, you okay?"

She nodded numbly but made no move to continue lifting the crop. She sat back on her heels and looked at him. Worry was beginning to creep over his gentle face. It made her feel guilty. Knowing she was keeping things from him. She forced a smile. "It's okay John, it's just..."

Her voice trailed off. Another sentence she would never finish. He was frowning now. "Just what?"

She shook her head. "Are you going to help us with the harvest or sit there blocking out the sun?"

He tilted his head and rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip thoughtfully. A breath hitched in her throat. He noticed and this time would not let her brush off his concern. "Mom, I know something's wrong. You gotta tell me, I'm not a child any more."

And for Aeryn, that was part of the problem. Even his speech patterns and wording were his father's. If anything he should sound more like her, after all she was with him all the time. Watching Crichton's mirror image grow up before her very eyes was more than unsettling. It was beginning to frighten her and she didn't know why.

"Mom?"

She shook her head and got back to work with a vengeance. "We have to finish the harvest."

Edel looked across at Aeryn but said nothing. Firell touched John's arm gently. He turned his head and blinded her with a smile to reassure her. "Yeah, guess we should earn our keep."

Firell gave a faint smile back, aware that somehow Aeryn did not approve of her friendship with John and both puzzled and hurt by it. Aeryn would not speak of it which meant Firell could not raise the subject either. The words unspoken were beginning to choke her too.

They toiled until the field was cleared. Half an arn after going to bathe in the lake the light finally began to fail. Aeryn squinted at the sky. This solar day had seemed to last twice as long as the last yet no one else seemed to notice. More troubled that she cared to admit Aeryn made her way to the house. As she reached the porch she found her son waiting for her. There was no sign of Firell. Edel, Garvell and Rovan had already gone inside.

"Mom. We need to talk."

Even his expressions were haunting her in the flesh now. She shivered slightly and nodded. He was right. She had meant to talk to him cycles ago but kept putting it off. How long could she run? How many times could she hide? "Let's go back to the lake."

He nodded. Anything that would make it easier for her. They walked in companionable silence. He was almost as tall as she was now, his slim frame thickening out with muscle. Her heart was beating rapidly, wondering at the nameless fear beating a path to her door. Trying to be sensible, logical. Emotions were human things, not Sebacean. But that was another lie, wasn't it? Edel and her husbands were proof of that. Why did she have to cling to lies when the truth daily stared her in the face?

They were by the lake now. The neman trees spread wide branches above their heads, their spindly branches leaving gaps through which they could look up and see the stars come out. Aeryn looked out across the calm water of the lake. As she did so her mind began to calm also. She turned her dark head to look at John. He was waiting patiently. Another gift from his father. "It's time I told you about your father."

She saw the swift intake of breath. The almost painful hunger in his eyes that he tried to keep in check, not wanting to hurt her. He was so thoughtful. Loving. Giving. Kind. How did she deserve a gift like this? "My son, first I must apologise for all the times I was going to tell you and didn't. My weakness not yours. My fault not his."

He nodded numbly. They settled beneath the strong bows of the tree, lulled by the gentle swaying creak of ancient limbs. She sat with her back to the trunk. He sat facing her. "Why did my father leave?" He whispered.

She heard the ache in his voice. The unspoken fear that it had somehow been because of *him*. A rejection that cut through to his very soul. She shook tears from her eyes and cradled his cheek with the palm of her hand. Her glistening eyes held his. He could not have looked away if he had tried. "Oh John, your father never left me. Would never have left *you*." She paused and gently stroked his face. So much feeling in her eyes that it overwhelmed him. He held his breath. "Your father is the most loving, giving, gentle man I have ever met."

"Then you love him?"

She nodded to give herself time to form the word he had waited so long to hear. "Yes. With all my heart."

He looked puzzled. "I don't understand."

"I know and that's my fault. My fault for not explaining. My fault for running away." His eyes widened in surprise. She nodded again. "Yes, John, *I* ran away. Left your father back on Moya and took off in my prowler while I was carrying you. As soon as I knew for certain."

His eyes swam with tears. His throat constricting. "You didn't want me?"

"No, never that. Never think that, my love. Not ever. I love you, will always love you."

"Then why?"

She swallowed. Wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath but did not look away from him. He deserved the truth. "I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Loving him too much." She paused. "I was a Peace Keeper for so long, John. We were taught not to indulge in emotional things. I didn't know what love was, how to appreciate it, to give and receive it. The emotions your father roused in me frightened me because all of a sudden. For the first time in my life. I was not in control. I didn't like it, it made me feel vulnerable, weak, at the mercy of things I could not understand. I refused to be a slave to his hormones so I tried to run away from mine." She laughed. It was a bitter sound that made hairline cracks in the wall of his
heart.

He reached out and took her hands, pain in his eyes. Worry for her. And love. Such love. "Don't..."

She shook her head gently. "I'm alright. You see I was raised to be a Peace Keeper. I was a pilot. I knew no fear in battle. No indecision in war. No shame in recreation. Then along came this alien species, this human. This man who gave with his heart and expected nothing back. This man who told me I could be more, that I could step out of the box in which I had been raised and be part of a larger world. And I began to believe him. Began to feel things that confused and excited me. I only became alive when I was with him. Gradually he found a way into my heart and I did not want to be anywhere in the universe where I could not see his face." Tears began to roll down her cheeks once again. They ignored them. "It was too much, John. Too much emotion for me to stand. I had already seen him die once, I couldn't bear to see him die again."

His breath shook. "You saw dad die?"

She looked at him, realised what she had said, and paused. How in hezmana was she going to explain to him? That his father had been cloned, duplicated, divided into two identical people? Twins but not twins. She had allowed one twin to mate with her and carried his son. That twin had died. She had then run from the other one. Here. To this peaceful colony on an unremarkable planet with hardly any off-world commerce. A place she could lose herself and bring up the son she would love more freely than she had his father.

* * * * *

DK could not sleep. He had only had a few beers but the peaceful place he had been trying to find still eluded him. Odd. Whenever he came here with John it was always there, waiting for him. He sighed and looked around the little cabin. A sad smile teasing his lips. He was so damn tired. Not in body but in mind. His heart weary in ways he had never imagined possible. He knew now that it was true. Some wounds never healed. Then he heard it. A soft sound creaking on the steps outside the cabin. His heart faltered. Someone was out there. He wondered what he should do. He glanced around the cabin. He never kept a gun only fishing equipment. Then he saw the logs piled up for the fire and picked a stout one. Just in case.

For a moment nothing happened. All sound ceased except the sound of DK's blood pounding in his ears like a death knell. Then. To his surprise there came a rap at the door. He froze. A look on his face that transported him back to the last fateful day they had used this cabin. John. His knock. Their code. The log fell from his hands. He could not move. Could not breathe. The door opened slowly and with a gasp he shook his head. No! It couldn't be. John was dead. The apparition stepped right into the cabin and looked at him. Eyes kind, wise and gently mocking. He tried to swallow. No words would form either in his mind or on his tongue. <Oh God, Oh God, Oh God...>

He spoke softly, knowing DK was in shock. "Hey DK, what does a guy have to do to get a beer around here?"

He could not move. He watched the apparition walk towards him. Powerless to move or speak. Eyes slowly widening, mind struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. When John reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder he felt the weight of reality. The unbelievable joy of discovering the impossible made flesh. He was choked with emotion. It was him. John! He was home. <Oh God>

Crichton pulled DK gently into his arms and hugged him close, letting his words tumble slowly so that his friend could take it all in. "Hey buddy, it's me. Remember? I said I'd come back."

DK was still struggling, on every level. "But you're d...dead. We all saw... Oh God, John, this isn't real, can't be real. We had a funeral, everything."

"I know," He soothed. "But it's like some guy once said *the rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated*."

DK pulled back from him, finally able to form whole sentences without falling apart. "It's been YEARS John! What the hell happened?"

He sighed. "More than you would ever believe, bro."

That sobered him up. Then the excitement began to trickle in. He grabbed a couple of beers and shoved one in John's hand. "And I want to hear it ALL, John. Every last word of it. If you miss anything out I'll kill you myself."

Crichton laughed and they stepped back out onto the porch. Leaning on the rail sipping their beers, DK felt the years roll back and finally. At long last. He began to know peace.

* * * * *

It was a shock to see Rygel so silent, distressed. Lacklustre. Moya met up with the Hynerian's ship and Jool took a transport over to collect him. Without a word he came back with her to Moya. The pirate ship he had purchased for his glorious cause sped off on its' way with the remains of his temporary crew. He had given them the ship in lieu of payment. He never wanted to set eyes on the thing again. Or them. Though the latter sentiment was never put into words. He wanted no more reminders. The evidence of his own two eyes was enough to haunt him for the rest of his cycles. Never had he felt so empty. So pained. So utterly and totally despondent. All his energy, all his hopes and dreams, had rested on the notion that sooner or later he would return to Hyneria and retake his throne. Sling the usuper into the deepist pits of squag and be returned to his rightful place as Dominar.

Pilot was worried about him as was Moya. Even Jool resisted the temptation to ridicule him. For the first time since she had known him the Dominar looked every one of his hundreds of cycles. Pilot tried to talk to him. "Rygel, is there anything we can do?"

"No. Thank you Pilot, Moya."

In a whisper Pilot dared to ask a question. "What happened?"

Rygel looked up. His eyes watery and bleak. "What happened? The Scarrans happened!"

* * * * *

DK listened, open mouthed, while Crichton explained. They talked right through the night and when morning came both of them were still too wired to sleep but for different reasons. Crichton looked at his friend, this man who was closer to him than any brother. He noted the deep shadows under his eyes, his unkempt appearance only heightened by not having shaved for weeks. DK felt his eyes on him and turned his head, eyes questioning.

"No offence." Crichton said softly. "But you might want to take a bath, DK. A shave wouldn't go amiss either."

For a moment he thought he had offended him, then a grin split DK's face. He rubbed his face with an apologetic hand. "Yeah, guess it wouldn't hurt. You make breakfast and you've got yourself a deal."

Crichton laughed. "Okay, now go while no one else is using the pool."

DK chuckled, grabbed his toiletries and went outside. He quickly stripped in the cool early morning air and with a shiver dived in the lake. God it felt good. Even more than that it felt like Heaven. His friend was back. Alive and well and wanting to see him. He grinned and paddled idly for a few minutes before striking back towards the little wooden jetty to grab the soap and get down to the serious business of cleaning himself up. Yeah, life was finally good.

Inside the cabin Crichton momentarily morphed back into the form of the Ancient. "Okay, what now?"

"What would happen if your friend saw me?"

"Oh no, no way Jose! DK would freak out, big time. I can't do that to him."

"You trust him?"

"With my life."

"Then he should be strong enough for this, John."

"No, no, no. You just don't get it, do you? DK sees ME, John Crichton. Friend. Brother. FAMILY. If he sees my form turn into yours he's gonna think of every bad sci-fi film where the aliens are the bad guys wanting to take over Earth. No way do you want that to happen."

"If your friend would react like that, what chance is there that the others would act better?"

Crichton's voice became sad. "I didn't want to say anything before but your plan won't work. If I had to listen to what you want to tell people and saw a human form morph into an alien one I would not trust you, would not want to take this any further. It's just too much to expect the people of Earth to get used to. This is the sort of things nightmares are made of."

There was a long silence. The Ancient morphed back into Crichton's form in case DK came back. Crichton kept an eye on the window as he broke eggs into a frying pan and rooted around for something to go with them. He found some sausage patties and baked beans and began tipping things in pans. Almost at random. "Mind me making a suggestion?"

"Please do, John."

"I think you gotta come up with another plan."

Just then DK stepped back into the cabin. He was rubbing his hair with a towel and had a second towel round his waist. He had left the rest of his things outside. "What plan?"

Crichton grinned. "Well, we got breakfast." He shook the frying pan lightly so the eggs would not stick. "Just gotta sort out pizza for dinner." He paused. "That is unless you gotta better plan?"

"No, sounds fine to me. I got a thousand questions I want to ask you but the one that is on the tip of my tongue is..."

"Dad."

They just looked at each other. Knew each other too well. Crichton sighed softly. "Yeah, Dad."

DK finished drying himself off and rumaged about for a change of clothes. "So when are you gonna see him? You know the old man is gonna have kittens."

Crichton did not say anything. What could he say that would not be a lie? In his head the Ancient was silent. This was his call and they both knew it.

"Well?"

Crichton forced himself to act normally. Served up the food on two plates and took them to the table. DK grabbed knives and forks and joined him, a curious look on his face. "What's up? You *are* gonna tell the old man, see him, aren't you?"

"DK, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"What?" His expression was one of shock. "There is no way you can come all the way back to Earth, John, and *not* see Dad! If I have to pound your head with rocks to get that through to you I will."

Crichton held up his hands. "Look, let's eat. I have a whole ton of stuff to tell you, DK, and I didn't come here to argue. 'Kay?"

His friend did not say anything but an uneasy truce fell over them while they ate their food. DK kept shooting him looks but Crichton ignored them. Once the plates were cleared, DK tried to corner him but he shook his head. "Go shave, DK, I need to take a swim. Wash off the dirt and grime then we'll get back to this - I promise."

DK nodded and walked out of the cabin with him, retrieved his stuff and went back inside. Crichton took a deep less than steady breath then stripped off and jumped in the water. The coolness against his hot skin was very welcome but though it eased him a little it did not make his mind any clearer as to what they could do.

"If we can't rely on your people to let us stay, what alternatives do we have?"

"You tell me. I'm the hitch hiker this time."

"Hitch hiker?"

"Yeah, hitching a ride inside *your* brain."

"We can take on human form, John..."

"No!" The vehemence of his response forced an awkward silence between them. "Look, I know you mean well but it would be a mistake. Disastrous. And you can't show your real form because people would bug out."

"Bug out?"

Crichton tried to stiffle a chuckle. "Yeah. No offence but your form looks like a cross between a praying mantis and an ant. On our world those lifeforms are part of the insect world."

"Insects?"

"Yeah, small bug-like creatures."

"Show me."

"Show you? Okay, hold on a minute while I climb out of this water."

He scrambled out and shivered. Grabbed the towel he had taken with him and rubbed himself dry then dressed. "Okay, let's see what we can find." Crichton looked down at the ground, his eyes narrowing as he spotted an ant. Carefully he used a fallen leaf to pick it up and bring it closer to his eye so the Ancient could see it clearly. "See? Insects. This is an ant."

"It is very small and we have species very similar."

Crichton nodded. "Yeah well we have millions of these creatures all over the Earth."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Some of them are so exotic."

"They are ancient."

"You know about insects?"

"I know about these lifeforms, yes. We can live here, John."

"No, I don't think you heard me properly. It wouldn't work."

"It would not work if we went with the first plan as you put it."

"So you have another plan?"

Crichton could almost feel the Ancient nodding inside his head. Or should that have been the other way around? Somehow it did not matter. The Ancient had a plan. Crichton just hoped it would be one his people and his planet could live with.

* * * * *

She could not believe it. Her heart was on the verge of stopping completely. Her whole sense of order thrown into complete and utter chaos. She was walking back from the market. Edel and Rovan were away visiting relatives beyond the lake. Garvell was still on his stall and had been pleased to see Aeryn however briefly. She felt strange stepping into the house knowing no one else was in it. That was until he came in from the fields. Her mouth dropped open. She stood gawking like some dumbstruck greebol. It was him. John. For the love of Cholok. *JOHN*.

"Hey, Aeryn, are you ready?"

She just stared at him. Unable to move. Her eyes taking in the black leather pants and the PK waistcoat. No homespun local weave for him. Wynona sitting ready in his hip holster. His loose limbed gait drawing her eye with memories that scrolled through her heart and mind. He started to frown, concern on his face.

"Aeryn?"

Still no response. He moved right up to her, placed a hand on her cheek. It was warm, she could feel the heat of his warm flesh and the way she wanted to lean in to his touch. His beautiful blue eyes open to her with the kind of trust that made her catch her breath. He was so trusting. So full of love. So beautiful. Tears welled up in her eyes. Really worried now, he gently brushed her tears away and kissed her forehead.

"Hey, come on Aeryn. I'm sorry if I upset you. Whatever I did or said or didn't do or say, I'm sorry."

Then she was in his arms, he was cradling her with such gentle strength. She inhaled his scent, closed her eyes and cried her heart out as she clung to him. Her soul reaching for him, her spirit joining with his and never wanting to be parted from him. Ever again. "I missed you, John."

He kissed her hair, rocking her gently, his voice so soothing. She could lose herself in his voice, his touch. His wonderful hands, his tender heart showing her emotions that made her believe in miracles. She pulled back just enough to be able to gaze into that amazing face of his. Lose herself in his eyes. He was like an open book, all his emotions, his thoughts, his *essence* written on his sensitive human face. Her hands cradled that face gently, her eyes searched his to be sure this was really *him*. The father not the son. "Is it really you, John?" She whispered.

He laughed. She loved his laugh. The way his laughter caught at the end as if suddenly self conscious. Everything about him made her delirious with delight. His lips brushed hers, she drank in his breath as if starved for it. He was her oxygen. The air she breathed. It *was* him. It was *him*. He mumbled in her open mouth. "Yeah, don't tell me you were expecting somebody else?"

She shivered and just about managed a single shake of the head before she kissed him. It started off gently enough but as she tasted him on her lips a hunger overtook her and she plundered his mouth, her hands wrapping round his neck to hold him close as her body hugged his. Not that he was complaining. Aeryn felt a joy that ignored all reason. A desperation to make the most of whatever this was. Wherever it might lead. She wanted him to love her, for
her to love him back. For them to join so completely that nothing in the Universe could ever part them again. Not even the insecurities of the not so radiant Aeryn Sun.

* * * * *

Jool looked at Rygel. Concerned because he was not eating. At last she could stand the silence no longer. "What happened?"

He gave her an almost vacant look. "The Scarrans had already been to Hyneria." He paused for so long that she thought he would not continue. His voice was bleak and filled with so much pain that her heart went out to him. "Gone, all gone. The Palace, my family." His voice trailed away to the merest whisper. "Millions of Hynerians. Courtiers. Concubines. Men, women and children." He broke off, eyes dull even through the shimmer of tears. "I should have died too."

Jool put her hand over his stubby one. He seemed not to notice. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was." His voice sounded stronger but not in a good way. He was looking at her now. "I was their Dominar and I deserted them at their time of need."

"No, you didn't desert them Rygel. You were overthrown, betrayed."

He sighed deeply, his mood dropping further into a deep impenetrable gloom. Jool tried to think of something to cheer him up but what could you give someone who had lost their entire world? Their people? Every dream turned into a nightmare? She patted his hand kindly. "You should eat."

He shook his head. "I need to be alone."

She was going to argue but the look in his eye stopped her. He was right. Even Hynerians should be allowed the privacy to grieve. Jool watched his sad little figure glide slowly out of the canteen. Moya was fast becoming a ship of tears.

* * * * *

DK wanted to hit him. Shake him. Drive nails through his head. Anything but this calm acceptance. Where was his fire? The man whose dreams had inspired his own? "You *have* to tell him, bro!"

He could hardly speak. This was so damn hard. Somehow he had to make DK see. Understand. But how could he do that without freeking him out? He had been shocked by how his friend had let himself go then been happy and touched by how quickly the spark had returned to him when he realised he was still alive. Now he was asking him to keep a secret that would have meant the world to his father. What kind of twisted logic was he using instead of brains? The Ancient melded his thoughts with Crichton's so they could commune non-verbally. It was not telepathy but a merging of thoughts.

<Should we show him?>

He felt panic. <No!>

<Are you sure it is not you who cannot cope? Your friend may be stronger than you think>

He wanted to deny that but something made him reconsider. He looked at DK. There were lines on his friend's face that had not been there when he had left in the Farscape 1. Little touches of grey were showing in his hair. Crichton put an arm around DK and gave a sigh. "You wouldn't believe all the things I've seen, DK. Man, I wish you could've been there."

"Me too. I especially would love to see that living ship. Wow, talk about Jonah and the whale!"

Crichton laughed. DK gave him a serious look.

"You think I'll ever meet them? You know, your alien friends?"

He gave him a sober look. So many memories, laughter as well as tears. Joy as well as untold terrors. "They're not alien to me DK, not any more."

He was not quite sure what to think of that so just accepted it. If it made Crichton happy, he was happy. Who cared if he made sense? He hadn't done before so why should this be any different?

"Hey, DK, we got any beer left?"

His friend grinned and went to get another six pack out of the four track. They sat on the porch and took a few sips of their beer. Crichton sorted through his thoughts and what needed to be done. Said. He cleared his throat carefully and DK looked up. His eyes bright. Expectant. God. Right then he looked like he still believed in Santa Claus. It almost made him laugh outright. "You said if I kept anything from you that you would kill me yourself."

DK nodded. Even more alert than a moment ago. Oh yeah, he wanted to know. Everything. Maybe the Ancient was right.

"I had a little help getting home, DK."

"What kind of help?"

"The E.T. kind."

"The aliens dropped you off?"

He shook his head. Wondering how he could say this. Put it across in a way that would make sense and not send DK over the edge and into the arms of the nearest mental nurse. Padded cells were not all they were cracked up to be. "No. I came back in my module, through a wormhole I imagine."

DK's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "You don't remember?"

"It's not that bro, I was a little...um...distracted."

His friend was frowning now. "What the hell was there to distract you? You were coming home!"

"Yeah, I know, but I picked up a hitch hiker."

There. He had said it. No going back. DK's eyes widened. A cross between true horror and great expectations. Now there was an image to keep you up at night. "You brought aliens to Earth with you? Are you *crazy*, John?"

"Alien. Singular, DK. Just the one."

If anything that alarmed DK even more. Not just what he said but how casually he said it. "Just one? Hellfire and damnation, John! You *know* what this means? If the authorities find out.... Well, let's just say I wouldn't fancy your friend's chances of living to a ripe old age."

"Just so long as he lives." Said Crichton quietly. His voice firm. Tone, committed.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"You better believe it, buddy."

DK looked over his shoulder. Suddenly feeling exposed and uncomfortable as if a million hidden eyes were watching him. "Where is he?"

"I'll introduce you when you're ready."

"When I'm ready? I was *born* ready, bro. I've wanted nothing else in my life since the old man first started to tell us stories about space flight and other planets. Every time I look up at the stars I wonder how many other beings are looking right back at me. If that's not ready I don't know what is."

Crichton took a deep sip of his beer. "Yeah, well you might want to remember you said that. This could freek you out."

"No, John. You coming back from the dead, *that* freeked me out."

In his mind the Ancient was speaking to him. He could almost hear the smile in his voice. <He is ready, John. Trust him>

<I do trust him but this is mind blowing> He looked at DK, so many feelings jostling for supremacy. He smiled gently. "Okay, DK. I'm gonna tell you something that if I were sitting in your place right now I would not believe." He paused a moment. "Do you believe in telepathy?"

DK chuckled. "Yeah but what does that have to do with this? Or is this something so secret you can only tell me telepathically?"

"I'm just using it as an illustration, you see the particular alien species I want to tell you about is known in the Uncharted Territories as the Ancients."

"That's not very original John."

"If you're gonna keep interrupting me or ridicule me I may as well forget it."

Immediately DK started to back pedal. "No, John. Sorry man, bad joke. Go on. I'm all ears."

"What would you say if I told you I could hear the Ancient now?"

"You mean telepathically?"

"Something like that."

DK thought about it. "What's he saying?"

"He wants me to reveal him to you but I'm not so sure that's wise."

"Hey, I can take it! Show me what you got."

"There's something else. The module isn't very big."

DK was way ahead of him. "They came down in their own ship, right?"

He shook his head. "Wrong. He came down in my module."

His friend frowned. "It's not good to make fun of people, John."

"I'm serious."

"Where is he then?"

Crichton sighed. "Right here. Don't freek out DK, just stay with me to the end, okay?"

"No problem, bro."

"These aliens, these Ancients can take on other forms. Their own form looks kinda insectile but don't let that blind you. They are very wise beings and are not violent."

"Are you gonna show me or just talk about it?"

Crichton chuckled then sighed. "Okay. I told you about there being a hitch hiker, what I didn't tell you was that *I'm* the hitch hiker. The Ancient morphed into my form so as not to scare you."

His friend wanted to laugh and punch him for yanking his chain but before he could do either Crichton's form began to warp and before DK's disbelieving eyes the distinct shape of a man sized bug appeared. He could not stop staring at the angular head and the mandibles moving as the creature spoke. He shook his head. Damn if it didn't sound just like the old man. "Do not be afraid, John has told me about you."

"I'm really seeing this?"

"Yes, DK, you are."

"I wish Dad was here to see this!" He paused and wet his lips nervously. "If you're here what happened to John?"

"He is still here but I carry his mind in my brain."

That shocked him. "You what?"

Then he heard Crichton's voice. "Take it easy, bro. I told you this would freek you out. Just listen to what the man has to say, okay?"

Numb, DK nodded and waited.

"We have been travelling in search of a new home. Our home planet devastated by war. We are a peaceful species, so when we were attacked we had little in the way of defence."

"Wait a minute, let me guess. You want to live HERE on Earth?"

The Ancient inclined his head. "Yes."

DK was shaking his head vehemently. "No, you can't do that. Not a good idea."

Crichton's voice interjected seemingly from thin air. "Listen to him, bro."

He took a deep breath then nodded. "'Kay, I'm listening but I don't believe what I'm seeing or hearing."

"I understand. Your friend John is a remarkable man. He has shown me your insects - ants - and tells me you have many different kinds of similar lifeforms."

"Yeah, but they're like really tiny. You're, you're the size of a human."

"Yes, but we can change our shape *and* our size."

That surprised DK so much he spilt his beer. He did not notice. "You can what?"

"We can diminish in size."

"How?"

"Let me illustrate."

Then, as DK watched intently the Ancient shrank down to the size of an ant. Amazed, DK's mouth dropped open. "Holy shit!" He took a few moments to get his mind back into gear and operate his vocal chords. "Just how many of you are we talking about?"

"Less than a thousand."

"And, and, you'd all look like *that*?" He pointed with a trembling hand to the ant-like creature looking up at him.

"Yes."

Immediately the Ancient morphed back into his original size and shape. "On our old world we lived in vast cities underground. We would do so here."

DK thought about it for a moment. "You know, it *could* work."

Crichton's voice floated back at him. "They don't have long, DK. We gotta find somewhere safe."

"No problem, man." DK looked around him and smiled. The smile actually got bigger as he looked at the Ancient. "They can settle right here and no one will ever know."

The Ancient morphed into Crichton. Crichton looked pained. "Bad idea,
bro."

DK frowned. "Why?"

"I don't want to accidentally step on anyone I know."

For a moment DK just stared then doubled up with laughter.

* * * * *

Aeryn's head was pounding. She felt terrible. What the hezmana was wrong with her? Slowly she squeezed open her eyes then immediately wished she hadn't. Light struck her so brightly it pained her. Gradually she realised the pounding sound was not coming from the inside of her cracked cranium. Her eyes crept open a little and she began to take in her surroundings. She was buckled into her prowler but the horizon was not where it should be. The front of the ship was tilted towards the ground and the nose was embedded in soil. She tried to straighten but it hurt. She grunted and leaned back to try to see what was making all the noise. Just then her canopy popped open and a face she recognised reached in and cut her loose, two strong arms lifting her clear of her prowler before she could say anything. Of all the people she had expected to see, Ka D'Argo was the last.

"D'Argo, what in hezmana are you doing here?"

He grunted something unintelligible then began to explain. "I was flying my ship when I picked up your distress call."

"Distress call?"

He nodded, his expression grave. "Yes. I was curious and came to investigate. It is lucky for you I did."

Aeryn felt confused. "Where's Crichton?"

"I thought he was with you on Moya?"

"I left."

"What do you mean you left? With John?"

Suddenly Aeryn felt embarrassed. Ashamed. "No, I left John on Moya."

An inkling of what she meant filtered through to the Luxan. "You left John?"

She nodded. D'Argo sucked in a breath. When in hezmana were those two going to sort themselves out?

"Are you going back?"

The brief sorrow on her face turned to radiant sunshine. "Yes. Just as soon as we can get my prowler fixed up ready to fly."

D'Argo smiled at her. "Then today is your lucky day, Aeryn Sun, for my vessel has a small tractor beam and I have room for a passenger or two."

The look she gave him would long be remembered in his two hearts.

* * * * *

Saying goodbye was the hardest thing. The Ancient had morphed back into Crichton's form so that he could make his farewell. DK was trying not to cry. His whole world had been remade before his very eyes. The knowledge that his friend was not dead had revitalised his life in more ways than he could count. His only sorrow was that he would not be staying. On the up side he was about to have hundreds of little alien friends to remind him this had been no dream. DK had managed to get him fuel for the module and for a while they tinkered with the Farscape 1 making sure it was as perfect as it could be. DK stared at the biomechanoid enhancements from Moya. "You say this is living technology?"

"Got it in one, bro."

The look on DK's face made Crichton pause to smile at him. Oh God it was so good to be back. If only for a little while. Crichton bent his head and fiddled for a moment, when he looked up again the smile had gone. An old pain and longing shone softly in his expressive eyes. "Look after the old man for me?"

DK nodded, knowing how hard this was for him. "Always!"

Crichton nodded. They were finished. Time to go. They hugged, words suddenly a hinderance. Some emotions could only be shared with touch. For a couple of minutes they clung to each other, memories scattering of past times when they had comforted one another through the turbulent sorrows of life. Times that held celebrations as well as tears. Comradeship that went beyond brotherhood and sealed the ties between them tighter than blood, more firmly than flesh and bone. Not all families were close. Few were closer. They seemed to pull apart as if by mutual consent then Crichton climbed up into his module and DK fussed over him. It was like his maiden flight all over again. Tears sparkled unshed in Crichton's eyes. For a brief swift moment DK wondered if the tears that glistened were Crichton's or from the Ancient who carried him. "Take care out there, John. I'll be thinking of you and praying for you every day, man."

He smiled. "Count on it. And DK," He paused to contain his emotion. "Thanks. Love you, bro."

It was a perfect take off. DK watched until the module was a tiny pin prick in the sky then all too soon it was lost from view. His throat tightened, tears began to leak like traitors out of his eyes. In silence he cleared up after Crichton, making sure no tell tale marks remained of where they had hidden his craft. He was thoughtful all the way back to the cabin, his steps slow and halting often to look up with a wistful yearning, his heart aching for Crichton and for himself. He wished he could have gone with him. Seen the things his brother had seen, share the life he was leading no matter how weird it might be. Back at the cabin he washed their plates and cups fastidiously, his mind recalling every second they had spent together right from the first remarkable moment of that knock on the door to their last parting words. A smile teased his lips as he put the drying cloth away. The Ancients. They would be coming back. Moving here where he could look out for them, do his best to protect them if any threat loomed. He felt proud that this duty now fell to him though none had asked him to bear it.

DK walked outside and looked at the lake. The cabin. The wooded slopes and the rising ground where rock took over from forest. There would be plenty of space below the rocks where they could fashion caves and cities of their own but in miniature. He thought of the huge structures created by termites, the intricate passages of ants and their amazing social structure. What was it Crichton had told him the Ancient had said to him? Ah yes. The insects of Earth were ancient too. He thought about that and realised in their single minded determination to explore the stars they had left the deeper mysteries of Earth unsolved. A calm feeling of deep content settled in his heart. Crichton had told him about the alien's telepathy. Now that he had linked with the Ancient that gift would be his to keep on their return. A covenant between them. A new hunger began to burn. He found himself impatient for their return. He looked up at the sky, his heart turning with emotion. *Just take care out there, bro. Return one day if you can. Love you.* His thoughts trailed off but in their wake was left a bright new shining star. Hope.

* * * * *

It took several solar days for D'Argo to locate Moya. Nothing was where he had left it. He frowned and cursed in Luxan then sighed with great relief when his sensors picked up the leviathan. "At last!" He opened his com to Moya. "Pilot, what happened? I could not find you."

The surprised voice of Moya's Pilot floated back to him. "Ka D'Argo! We did not expect to see you again."

"I have Aeryn with me. Her prowler crash landed on a planet."

Jool's voice interrupted full of concern. "Is Aeryn injured?"

"I'm alright Jool, just a crack on the head and some aching ribs." Said Aeryn quickly.

"What happened, Jool?" Asked D'Argo.

"We'll explain when you come aboard."

D'Argo nodded and adjusted his approach for landing. Aeryn looked at him and he gave her a smile. He could not wait to see the look on Crichton's face at Aeryn's return. Jool was waiting as D'Argo set down. He gave her a gentle smile, touched at the emotion on her face at seeing him again. Then he turned to help Aeryn down. Jool hid the smile that was forming on her lips at the impatient ascerbic tone she was using on D'Argo.

"I am fine, D'Argo. Stop fussing, you're worse than John."

At the mention of Crichton's name Jool's humour vanished. She looked at D'Argo. "Bring her to the apothecary."

Aeryn protested. "I am alright!"

Jool ignored her and started to walk off, trusting D'Argo to drag her with him if he had to. Hearing the grumbling protests it sounded as if he was doing just that. Once at the apothecary Jool turned to D'Argo. "I think Ka D'Argo, Dominar Rygel could use your insight right now."

He looked surprised. "Rygel?" He laughed. "I might have known he wouldn't last five hundred microts away from Moya's food store..."

The Interon gave him a stern look. "Rygel did not return for food, in fact he has not eaten since his return."

Aeryn hissed a little as Jool's hands continued to check her over and found tenderness around the abdomen. A couple of ribs were obviously bruised but it was the injury lower down that worried her most. She had already dressed the cut on her head.

"What is wrong with Rygel?" Asked Aeryn in a voice stilted by intermittent stabs of pain.

Jool's hands on her stomach paused. Pain in her eyes. "He lost everything, Aeryn."

Shocked, Aeryn searched the Interon's face for clues. "Define everything."

She swallowed. "He used all he had to buy a ship..."

"A pirate ship!" Growled D'Argo disapprovingly.

Jool ignored him and continued. "Men to fight with him."

"Mercenaries!" Sneered D'Argo softly.

"When he returned to Hyneria," Jool broke off, visibly upset. D'Argo fell silent. "He discovered the Scarrans had got there first."

Shocked, Aeryn started to sit up only to catch her breath painfully. Jool gently eased her back down.

"What happened?" Asked a subdued D'Argo.

"They destroyed everything. Rygel's entire family were murdered, his people slaughtered, the planet turned into a blackened wasteland of charred and burning ruins. Rygel tells me the fires are still burning. And this is monens after the last attack. He does not want to go on living."

For a few microts no one spoke. The air between them was filled with pain. D'Argo broke the silence, his voice soft, his tone concilatory. "I am ashamed for my earlier comments."

Jool shook her head. "Do not worry about that D'Argo. What you need to know is that Rygel needs you now, even if he doesn't know it."

D'Argo nodded. He looked at Aeryn.

"I'll be alright, D'Argo."

Satisfied, D'Argo gave a solemn nod, turned and walked out of the apothecary. Aeryn looked at Jool a question in her eyes. "Where's John?"

John not Crichton. Jool noticed but the subtle sea change did not lighten the heaviness in her heart. "Let me finish examining you first, Aeryn. I don't like this bruising and tenderness around your stomach and abdomen. I need to run a few tests."

She briefly shut her eyes and thought about Crichton. He was probably sulking. Upset and hurt at their last parting. A tiny smile stole across her lips as she imagined the look on his face when he saw that she had returned. It made her want to laugh out loud but her stomach was hurting, beginning to heave. She opened her eyes. "I want to be sick."

Jool nodded as if expecting this reaction. Without a word she got a bowl and eased Aeryn into a sitting position so she could be sick. Aeryn would have got up but Jool would not let her. Really, she didn't need all this fussing. All she needed was a little rest and Crichton. Remembering what Jool had said to D'Argo about Rygel she felt a stab of guilt. Of course. Crichton would be with Rygel. There was no way that he would see any of them in pain and not be there to offer what help he could. A damp cloth being wiped carefully over her face to clean her up brought Aeryn's thoughts back to the present. Jool had gone amazingly quiet. Not that she did not enjoy the improvement but right now she wanted to know that she was okay, just battered and bruised. "Well? Can I get up now?"

The Interon shook her head. She looked very grave. "Aeryn, the baby you were carrying..."

Aeryn's heart missed a beat. <In the name of Cholok, not the baby!> "Jool, what is it?"

Jool looked upset. "The baby's gone. I'm so sorry, Aeryn, the shock of impact..."

Aeryn did not hear any more. All she could think of was her overwhelming sense of loss. First she had lost her John, now she had lost their child. Tears sprang to her eyes and her heart opened out to a grief so deep that she could not hold it in. All her reserve and military training could not prepare her for this. Jool put her arms around Aeryn and held her. Instead of slowing calming down, Aeryn seemed to be getting more traumatised. Jool eased her back onto the bed and administered a sedative before the Sebacean could ask her what she thought she was doing. She watched as Aeryn struggled to resist the drug then passed out, such a sad expression on her face. It was as if everything that had once been so good, so full of hope for them all, was being destroyed before her very eyes.

* * * * *

Blue. Shining. Bright. Electric. A constant shower of shimmering blue-white light holding him upright. In nothingness. Crichton realised what it meant. Where he must be. Knew he would not be able to move, his body in some kind of statis that still allowed his brain to function. He wished he could turn his head, at least change the view. As he acclimatised to the brightness he made out the distinctive figure of the Ancient watching him. What had once seemed an emotionless alien now struck him as a wise being, ancient beyond mortal appreciation, compassionate and gentle. He could feel the emotion of the alien. When the Ancient spoke the words echoed in his mind not his ears. "Thank you, John, for trusting me."

His father's voice. What was it with these aliens and his father? "Look, there's something I've been meaning to ask you. The Ancient who was with my twin on Talyn, died. We called him Jack after my father because he took my dad's form, used his voice. Why are you doing the same?"

For a moment the alien did not reply. He seemed to be thinking about his response. Later, Crichton realised he had been communing with the others. "You know that we are a telepathic race?"

"Yeah."

"We are more than simply telepathic. We are one mind."

That surprised him. "One mind? You mean you agree on everything?"

"No, I mean one mind as in the purest sense."

He thought about that. "Okay, let's see if I'm understanding you correctly. You mean like a hive mentality?"

"What is a hive?"

Crichton chuckled. He explained, watching the Ancient to see how he would respond.

"Yes, we have something similar to the hive mentality but purer, clearer. There are no barriers between our minds, John. We have our own thoughts echoing in each other."

"Doesn't it get a little crowded in there?"

The Ancient understood what he meant. "No, John. We do not all *talk* at once, nor do we *talk* over each other. We are of one mind, we sort our thoughts out and they flow like drops of rain in a river. They are still drops of rain but they are also the river."

"Like a river of consciousness?"

The Ancient seemed pleased. "Exactly."

"What happens now?"

"Now you go home."

His heart leapt in his breast. "Home? Earth?"

"Yes. If that is your wish."

He thought about it. Was that what he wanted? Now? Could he really leave Aeryn and the others behind him? A stab of pain touched his heart, wounded him deep and he could not speak. The Ancient knew his thoughts.

"Or you can be returned to Moya, John."

"How you gonna pull that rabbit out of the hat? Moya's gone, remember?"

"No, John. It was a distortion of time."

"It was a wormhole."

"And what is a wormhole? Do you think space is just distance, John?"

"Right now I don't know what to think."

"Time does not pass, John, it decays. That is why memories can be such fleeting things. Some as bright as the microt of their inception, others fragmenting so badly that they become illusive echoes. There is only the now of eternity, John. Everything else becomes part of the ongoing life experience. A gift of endless layers. A place where reality can rest, the ground become solid beneath your feet, the universe seeming to pause as you take a breath. Illusion John. You live now. Eternal. Immortal. Infinite. You being and end here. Now."

"So what was that little excursion to Earth? A dream? A nightmare?"

"No John, that was real. The confusion lies not in reality itself but in how you perceive it."

"Yeah, *through a glass darkly*." He mumbled.

"What?"

"S'okay, just a memory. One of those decayed bits of time echoing inside my brain."

"Then you have decided where you wish to go?"

"Yeah." His voice was quiet. He hoped DK would forgive him but his heart had to go back. Know. Whether he could find Aeryn or whether she was lost to him forever. <So help me God, I gotta know> "Moya."

* * * * *

Everyone was stunned by the swirl of energies that opened up before the leviathan. D'Argo put it into words. "Are we in danger?"

Pilot sounded awed. "No. Moya detects no danger."

Aeryn was out of the apothecary now, still tender but mending fast. At least physically. No one had been able to coax Rygel to join them. "What is it? A wormhole?"

Pilot shook his head. "No. Moya does not know what it is."

Just then the bright blue and white swirl rippled, flattened out and all they could see was normal space. Only it was not as empty as it had been a microt before. It had deposited something. Aeryn caught her breath. Jool almost shrieked her surprise. "Is that John's module?"

Aeryn, D'Argo and Jool were waiting after the module landed. D'Argo was impatient. "What is taking him so long?"

The canopy popped open and still there was no sign of Crichton. Concern overcame Aeryn's plans to play it cool. She rushed over to the module and saw Crichton sitting back in his pilot's seat. He was still strapped in but his head was back. She could see his eyes closed through his helmet. Quickly she undid the helmet and took it off, her hands fluttering anxiously to his face. Needing to know he was alright, that he had not simply returned to die on her. His skin was warm, blood pulsed beneath her questing fingers as his eyes opened. She enjoyed the way shock then joy shone back at her. "Aeryn!"

The word was a prayer on his lips. Aeryn smiled gently at him. "Welcome home, John."

Before he could marvel at the impossibility of Aeryn being back on Moya she leant in and kissed him.

Jool grabbed D'Argo's arm and started to drag him away from the module. "Come on, D'Argo. Let's give them some privacy."

"I want to see John, make sure he is alright."

Jool grinned at him and tugged harder. "Do you think Aeryn would be kissing a corpse?"

He looked at her then, shocked. As her words sank in he grinned back. "You are right!"

They left unnoticed. When Crichton eventually came up for air it was to find Aeryn unclipping his harness, her eyes glued to his with such love shining back at him that he thought his very heart would break for the joy of it. She brushed his lips lightly. "We have to talk."

He chuckled. Such a lovely rich sound. "Talk, Aeryn?"

Her smile became wicked. "First."

He could not climb out of his module fast enough. Wanted to crush her in his arms but she took his hand instead, her eyes steady and open as they gazed into his own. "I love you, John Crichton."

His heart hitched with pain. Which one? Him or the John she had lost? She did not let him dwell on anything but propelled him quickly to his quarters. His not hers. Was that significant? Should he be worried or break out the champagne? She sat him on the bed then sat next to him, the smile gone now. Her eyes watching him closely as if about to break bad news. He swallowed painfully. This was it. This was where she told him she was leaving him forever. Oh God, he could not stand it. She saw the pain in his eyes and raised a hand to gently cradle the side of his face. "John, I have to explain something to you. Why I left."

"I know why you left, because you were pregnant with my twin's child."

Her eyes widened. He knew. She would strangle Jool when she got hold of her. "Yes, but that was not the main reason I left." She paused and waited but he did not interrupt. "I was afraid. Afraid of loving you as I had loved the John on Talyn. I kept comparing you, blaming you for not being him. Afraid of the strength of feelings that I had no control over. It was the weirdest thing, John. I thought I had landed on this planet with a large Sebacean colony. A backward planet by Peace Keeper standards. Low tech." That made him smile. "I had a life there, John. The baby was born, it was a boy. I named him John." She noticed he had gone rigid. Her hand stroked his cheek gently, his head tilted leaning in to her caress while he tried to ease the pounding of his heart so he could take in her words. "I can't explain it except to say I must have been dreaming. I crash landed on the planet, took a crack to the head. I must have lost consciousness and started dreaming. In the dream I saw the child grow up. It was beautiful John. *He* was beautiful." Wonder touched her words with awe. "Your face," She turned her hand slowly to caress his cheek with the back of her hand. "Your hands," She now turned her attention to his hands, turning them over in her own, her fingers outlining the fleshy mounts on his palms, each finger slowly outlined with one of her own. She looked at him. He held his breath. "Your voice. I saw the child grow from a baby to a man. Not any man, John, but *you*. That's when I knew."

"Knew what?" He whispered, an ache in his voice.

"That I loved you. Not simply the John on Talyn, but also the John I had left behind on Moya. You are the same person, different memories. I did not fall in love with your memories John." She paused, "I fell in love with you."

He leant forward to kiss her but she stopped him with a gentle hand, her fingers caressed his lips. "The baby, John." Her breath hitched painfully, tears sprang to her eyes. "The baby died, John. I lost him."

He thought he had known pain before but it was as nothing compared to what he felt for Aeryn now. Such love, such sorrow, an ocean of compassion. "Oh God Aeryn, I'm so sorry."

Then his arms were round her and he was comforting her. His hand stroking her back, his words low and reassuring as he whispered endearments into her hair. She closed her eyes and let her tears bless them both. She was home. She had lost the baby. Lost the John on Talyn. In the name of Cholok she was not going to lose him as well. They had a second chance and this time she was taking it. She wanted him so badly, for now and for always. "What can I do, Aeryn?" He whispered as he gently kissed her.

"Love me."

"I already do, Aeryn. With all my heart."

"No." She eased him back on to the bed and began to undress him.

He caught her hands gently. Eyes locked. "Aeryn, are you sure? You just lost a baby, and you had that nasty crack on the head..."

Aeryn pulled her hands out of his and got back to work, now stradling him. "John Crichton, I know what I want. Yes, it hurts that the baby is gone. Yes, I suffered some injuries from the crash but mostly bruises. Nothing you cannot mend for me."

His eyebrows lifted, a big old smile washed over his face lighting her heart with rainbows. He undressed her carefully while she finished removing his clothes. For a microt they paused, naked. He saw the dark bruising on her skin and felt tears prick his eyes.

"It's okay, John," She soothed.

Then she was all over him, her mouth hungry but restrained, her hands under no such restrictions. He was gentle, so gentle, she hardly felt his touch though her body reacted to him and all of a sudden all the hurt, the pain, the misunderstandings fell to ashes around them. She drew him deep inside her as soon as he was ready, the shape of him filling a place inside her that had been empty for too long. Looking into his eyes she saw such love, such tenderness. They made love slowly, carefully, hearts and bodies intertwined down to the subatomic level. "I love you so much, Aeryn Sun." He sighed.

It was less than a monen later. She found him on the Terrace and draped herself around him, a deep kiss conferred between heartbeats. She smiled a secretive smile. So happy. So pleased to give him this one gift.

"What are you smiling at, Sunshine?"

She laughed lightly. It made his heart flutter with joy. "I'm pregnant, John."

His eyes widened. Was she teasing him? No. He saw her happy truth shining back at him, reaching for him to share in this miracle they had created. "You sure?"

She nodded. Ecstatic. He did not need to ask if she wanted this baby. He could see it in her eyes. "Oh baby, I'm so happy. Love you so much."

She laughed and kissed him, his arms wrapping gently round her as if she might break. She broke away just far enough to see his face. "I know what I am going to name our son."

Delighted at the teasing sound in her voice he kissed her throat, gazed adoringly into her sparkling eyes. "Hey, our child might be a girl. You ever think about that?"

Aeryn smiled and shook her head. "It will be a boy." Her smile dazzled him as it brightened into a supernova taking his heart with it. "Trust me!"

END