TITLE: "MOTHER OF INVENTION"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/CRAIS series

RATING: PG-13.

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "NEVER SAY DIE".

WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "Crichton's situation gets worse but hope is found for saving Crais and Talyn."

The usual disclaimers apply. Noinfringement of copyright is intended.

"THE MOTHER OF INVENTION"
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

It was worse this time. Worse than any time he could recall. It felt as it he had spent eternity in that frelling torture device. He passed out, came round and passed out again while still strapped to the damn thing. They had to carry him back to the cell. His guards more solicitous this time as
if fearing if they jostled him at all he would expire on them. He could not blame them. If he died now Scorpy would probably execute them. Fickle bastard that he was. He drifted, ready to throw up even in his dreams. He was so sick of it, so weak, so hurt, so damned.

It was white. A little white triangle of sail on a miniature mast. As far as the eye could see rolling sharp waves cut the water up into a choppy sea. Something like moonlight bathed the water, the crests reminding him of white horses. Harvey was at the tiller looking dapper in his dark blue
blazer, white cotton slacks and deck shoes. A Captain's hat sat at a jaunty angle on his head. "You should not have given yourself up, John."

He snorted but phlegm flew from his mouth. He leaned over the side and spat to clear his throat. "I couldn't let him kill Crais."

"You know he's going to die anyway."

Anger flared in him. "Shut the frell up! If you can't come up with anything useful go drown yourself. Keep the sharks company."

"What if I was to tell you that you haven't used all your resources?"

"I'd say you've been smoking whacky baccy. Nine out of ten cats might prefer it but then they don't take out an insurance plan so who cares if they get cancer?"

"Think, John. You shared Unity with Zhaan."

His eyes narrowed. Wary. Suspicious. He did not like to think of the things Harvey knew about him. Had shared vicariously. "Keep the hell out of my memories, Harv."

"I am part of you John, it is impossible for me to not know what you are thinking, feeling and..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture. No need to paint it in oils."

For a microt there was silence then Harvey tilted his head, looking at him all the while. "When you entered into Unity you were given something."

"I said not to go there."

He shook his head slightly. "I don't mean that. I'm talking about the piece of Zhaan you now carry inside you."

He frowned, wondering where this was going. Intrigued despite himself. "What about it?"

"Zhaan is a tenth level P'au."

"Was, Pal. Zhaan *was* a tenth level P'au."

"She still retains the knowledge of the tenth level."

"What kind of knowledge?"

"Many things." Harvey paused. "Including altered states."

"Altered states? You mean like trances?"

"Something like that John."

"How is going into a trance gonna help me escape from Scorpy?"

"It isn't which is why you won't be going into one."

"Then what's the point of this conversation?"

"Survival."

"Survival? Yours or mine?"

Something in Harvey's eyes glittered. "Both."

* * * * *

The leviathan gunship sailed through the sea of stars like a Queen among her courtiers. Elegant. Graceful. Humble. Raknor wanted none of these things. He wanted raw strength. Energy unfettered at his command. Power. Death and destruction on demand. He saw her as an armoury, a storehouse of desolation. A means to subdue and vanquish the contents of the universe so his species could pick the pockets of the dead and the dying. Mirkot saw it
now. He saw it all. Aylsa had removed the last of the scales from his eyes and what he saw burned him with sorrow, anger and indignation. Yet he fought to remain outwardly calm. He was a servitor now and he must learn to play his part.

Raknor was more than pleased. The demonstration had shown him a number of things. The impressive aptitude of the leviathan's firepower, an intuitive system manipulated through symbiosis with the Pilot. While it was true that the leviathan could if she chose operate without the will of her Pilot, such division would be physically painful for both. For once cojoined
they could only operate to full efficiency when their thoughts and will were in tandem. Hence the collar. Control was the key. Forever and always.

* * * * *

It was getting harder and harder to think straight. To concentrate. He felt terrible but something was tugging at his consciousness. Keeping him just aware enough that he could hear the clone. Harvey had changed into a swim suit. It was a garish gold and lime green colour. They were on
a beautiful sandy beach. The white sands were fortunately deserted. He had no idea how he would have explained Harvey or how much offence his swimwear might cause to the local populace.

"Did you hear what I said, John?"

He jumped slightly. His mind had been wandering again. "Sorry. You were saying?"

"Can you access the part of Zhaan she gave you?"

He frowned. The sun was sure bright today. He could hardly make out the clone. Perhaps it was the clash of colours? "Um, I don't know."

"Have you tried?"

"Nope."

"Then I suggest you do."

Crichton gave a little lift of his head. "Huh."

"That's not very helpful, John."

"It's not as if I know what I'm looking for Harvey or what in hezmana difference you think it's gonna make unless you want to transport me to My Blue Heaven. Whatever."

"But you'll try?"

He sighed and flopped down on the beach. "If it'll get you off my back, sure - I'll try."

The clone nodded and sat down beside him. Crichton closed his eyes, could still feel the warmth of the sun on his face. He tilted his head and soaked in the rays. Man, he had missed the sun *so* much. He tried to keep his thoughts on what he was looking for. Zhaan. <Okay, Zhaan, where would you hide it?>

<Hide what John?>

He jumped. It was Zhaan. Quite literally. He opened his eyes. She was kneeling in front of him in a two piece swimsuit. Unlike Harvey's outfit hers complimented her blue skin perfectly. She was one beautiful, exotic lady. Zhaan smiled gently, liking the appreciative look Crichton was
giving her.

"Um," It was hard for him to take his eyes off her figure. Raise his thoughts up from the gutter that proved he really was one hundred per cent male. And breathing. "I uh, I was thinking about when we shared Unity."

She smiled and moved closer. He was having difficulty drawing a steady breath. "Yes, John?"

"I ah, need to ask you something Zhaan. That piece of you that is now in me, um where is it?"

She looked amused. A beringed hand came up and caressed the side of his face. He tilted his head and leaned in to her touch, memories fired in his brain and his loins. Little ripples of excitement running up and down his skin like electricity. Man, this was harder than he thought. "Why do you want to know John?"

"It's um, it's possible it may help me against Scorpy."

She leaned in and kissed him. His heart stopped. He was sure of it. As she leaned back and released him it restarted, a bit sluggish and jumpy but it was going and that was the main thing. "How will that help you?"

"I don't know."

She gave him a level look, halting her gentle teasing for a microt. "That is not very helpful, John."

"Sorry." His voice was thick, hardly articulate at all. "Best I can do."

* * * * *

Benryddin was a busy planet. Obviously the people on this world thrived from the sale and trade of their expertise. D'Argo felt his hearts lift in cautious optimism. If anyone anywhere could help them they would be on this planet. He did not notice how distracted Zhaan had become nor did he pay any attention when Rygel disappeared among the crowds on his thronesled. Aeryn was with him and they were single minded in their purpose as they
pressed ahead. She did not ask him if he knew what he was doing. They both knew the
answer to that one. Chiana overtook them then paused, tilting her head first one way then another as if she could not make up her mind what she thought of the place. It was beginning to irritate Aeryn if only because the Nebari was slowing them down. She frowned. "I thought you would be in your element, Chiana."

"Yeah well, it's different, you know."

D'Argo glanced at her, his eyes warily keeping a look out as they started walking again. At least they did not have Crichton with them either getting himself lost or dropping them in a pile of steaming dren not even a barkan could get out of unaided. "Different how?"

Her head jerked again. "You know. Different."

He glared at her. "You are making as little sense as Crichton."

Aeryn stiffened and D'Argo was immediately sorry. He wanted to apologise to her. He had not meant it how it sounded. Crichton was his friend and they were all worried about him. Somehow he could not find the words. Then he noticed he could no longer see Zhaan. He stopped. Aeryn and Chiana turned to see why he had fallen behind them.

"Where is Zhaan?"

They all looked around, three pairs of eyes scanning the crowds. Aeryn's frown deepened. "Rygel's missing too."

"I am not concerned with that Hynerian slug. He is obviously following his three stomachs."

"Yeah well he could be in trouble." Chimed in Chiana, annoyed that D'Argo could not give a garant's brax about Rygel.

"More likely creating it, you mean." Muttered D'Argo darkly. He sighed heavily. Still no sign of Zhaan. He activated his com badge. "Pilot?"

"Yes, D'Argo."

"We seem to have lost Zhaan."

* * * * *

Why couldn't Harvey go bug someone else? Oh yeah, course not, he was in *his* head. How could he forget? A deep groan slid out of his throat. He was not conscious but how could he be properly unconscious when that monstrosity was haunting what passed for limbo as well? Couldn't a guy get a break even in here?

<Come on John, you have to think>

"Don't wanna think..." He mumbled through slack lips that dribbled mucous.

<Think of Zhaan>

"Right," He mumbled, his words losing any chance they had of coherence. <Easier said than done, leather face> But then something strange happened. Like on the beach Zhaan appeared only this time she did not fade away again. She knelt beside him, place a beringed hand either side of his head and rested her forehead against his. He felt an idiotic surge of hope.

<Zhaan, I knew you'd come. Get me the hell outta here!>

She did not answer, instead she smiled sweetly at him then invoked Unity. Hezmana! It was so strong he almost blacked out completely. All his nerves frying, pain shooting up his arms and legs while it felt like someone was cutting through his brain with a Black and Decker drill. Hammer action, naturally. He had thought he had been in pain before but this was different.
Worse. More invasive. Every part of him in excruciating agony including his genitals. What the hell was happening? He felt as if someone had stuck a hot spike up his shaft then turned the power on full. He was weeping uncontrollably now, too weak even to thrash or try to resist. Any movement hurt him. Glimpses of Zhaan touching him, looking at him with that gentle
understanding, became agony. Again Unity flooded him, seared his thoughts and fried him from the inside out. A couple more like that and all Scorpy would have for his trouble would be a gelatinous puddle of goo in the middle of his precious chair. He hoped it would stain the leather or whatever dead animal it was covered with. Man, how was he even still conscious? Or was he dreaming? He could no longer tell the difference. Suddenly death didn't look like such a bad deal. At least it would stop then. Everything would just. Stop. Dead.

White light. Trembling waves of pain sparking through every cell in his body. Igniting him with agony as if someone had stuck a Christmas tree up his ass and switched all the lights on. Only this wasn't Christmas and this sure wasn't Heaven. Melting. Disolving. Liquifaction imminent.
Sluggish. Everything slowing down. Royal jelly. Primordial soup. Loss of motion. Blinding light. Silence. Darkness. Oblivion. Nothing left.

Scorpius looked at the unconscious human, blood leaking out of one closed eye where a blood vessel had burst with the pressure. He looked up at the screen. Zhaan. Whatever she had trigged and shared with Crichton had been amplified a hundred fold by the chair and almost killed him. He called for the medtechs. The human's heartbeat was far too irregular, getting
too sluggish. The man was dying. Scorpius stepped right up to the inert body and spoke softly, his cultured voice trying to insinuate itself into Crichton's subconscious. A last evil threat. "Do not imagine that I will let you die, John. You are far too valuable to me for that to be an option."

John Crichton. Human. Astronaut. Unwitting carrier of the Ancient's secret knowledge. Could not hear him. He could not hear anything. Unbeknownst to him gentle hands found him. Soft hands carried him. An aching heart loved him. No part of his awareness knew or guessed.
His senses had all shut down. His body on massive overload. His cells breaking down and bleeding through corrupted veins. His valiant heart labouring sluggishly againt impossible odds. His breath so rare he could sucking vacuum. The room he was placed in was small. The light so dim it hardly registered. Organic walls or was it a coffin? As he was laid inside, the walls contracted slowly and formed a boundary to his flesh. The curtilege leaking warmth gently through his shattered frame. A slow turgid energy stirring just beyond the bounds of inertia. The movement so minimal it would not register. The dark walls bound him. The darkness itself
claiming him as one of its' own.

* * * * *

It was with some misgivings that Aeryn allowed the Tar-gee-nix to bring Crais down to the planet surface but they insisted and she had no alternatives. D'Argo watched and hoped they were doing the right thing. Aeryn elected to stay with the medtechs and the Luxan readily
agreed. He was worried about Zhaan. Chana offered to go with him to search for her, intending to also see what she could find out about Rygel. Had the two gone off together? Had they been captured?

The Tar-gee-nix were mainly telepathic but after a warning from Aeryn backed up with pulse gun fire they kept out of her mind and limited any conversations they had with her to the verbal kind. Better but not perfect. Perfect would be to get Crais healed and off this planet then go and
rescue Crichton. Perfect would be a fully operation leviathan gunship with nothing wrong but his attitude. His problem was that he was young. His other problem was that he was tied to Crais. If Crais died she did not even want to think about what Talyn would do. No. Their only hope of survival was to heal them both. So she trusted the Tar-gee-nix because there was no other
choice. Ab-adra the chief medical facilitator tried to get her to relax, to go and take a look around their beautiful city while they worked, but she would not hear of it. Her place was with Crais. They nodded warily and explained that she might find their techniques painful to watch.
Aeryn gritted her teeth, nodded and prepared to stay exactly where she was.

The surgery was massive and filled with a lot of very exotic equipment. At first she could see no operating tables but as Crais was brought in on a hoversled, Ab-adra pressed a console and part of the floor slid away and a table rose up into the middle of the room complete with extra
lighting and monitors. Anxiously she hovered, alarmed when it became obvious that the aliens intended to remove Crais from the tank of healing gel. "I don't think you understand, the gel is eeping him alive. Repairing the damage."

The doctors stopped and looked at her. Four pairs of perfectly round eyes watching her and waiting for her panic to subside so they could get back to work. Ab-adra tried to explain. Her words an assortment of clicks and gutteral huffs. The translator microbes were a God-send. One of the better bits of Peace Keeper tech. "We must remove him, next stage. Too long in gel
not good. Break down work already completed."

Aeryn nodded. "Okay. What's next?"

Ab-adra pointed to a colleague who bowed slightly and introduced himself. "En-ha-cho. His covering..." He broke off to discuss the correct terminology with the others then turned back to her. "What you call skin. We make. We wrap. We clothe."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You've MADE him skin?"

They all looked pleased at her reaction. Proud even. En-ha-cho continued to explain as Crais was slid out of the tank, the special tray he was slid onto having drainage holes for the gel. She noticed the gel was not thrown away but re-routed into another tank. Waste not, want not.
She swallowed hard. Crais was a mass of huge shiny red blisters. En-ha and his team carefully began to cut the blisters off and Aeryn had to turn away to be sick, the putrified liquids released from under the skin making her gag and her eyes water. A special air extractor took the offensive smell away and another team hurried over with a huge machine in tow. Forgetting her
squeamishness Aeryn watched as the machine was lowered over the top of Crais so that only his head stuck out one end of it. There was a humming sound, the doctors disappearing into the machine by some means she could not see and not coming out again for arns at a time. She had no idea how long they took but found herself dozing on and off more times that she could count.
At last the operation was over, the large domed machine was taken away and Aeryn was amazed to see Crais looking more like his old self. The skin was thick and rubbery in consistency but it clothed him well and protected his healing flesh. En-ha explained. "This skin will stay until the final stage. When the flesh has healed the top thick membrane will slough off leaving him with new skin. His *own* skin."

She shook her head, dazed. "I don't understand how..."

Ab-adra nodded as if her reaction was normal. "Two weekens and he will be able to speak. Three and he will be able to sit up. A monen and he will be walking again."

At her utter astonishment all the doctors gave a little bow and then insisted politely that she must leave. Feeling more confident that he would not die if she left him, Aeryn agreed. A solder who kept falling asleep at her post was no use to anyone. Outside, she found Chiana waiting for
her. The Nebari was brimming with curiosity. "Well? Did it work? Will he live?"

For once Aeryn did not snap her head off. Instead she smiled surprising the Nebari. "Yes, Chiana, it worked. In a month he'll be completely healed." Aeryn noticed she was on her own. "Where's D'Argo?"

"Ah, that's what I was going to tell you. He's found Zhaan."

"And Rygel?"

"No Rygel, not yet."

Aeryn stifled a yawn. "Okay, let's go and join them."

Chiana looked uncomfortable. "D'Argo said we should go back to our rooms. Rest first then meet up tomorrow."

She was instantly suspicious and pinned Chiana to the wall. "What is it you're not telling me?"

"Tomorrow, I'll tell you tomorrow!"

Aeryn drew her pulse rifle and put the barrel against the side of Chiana's head. "No. You'll tell me *now*!"

* * * * *
END