Part 10

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Perkunas stepped into the greater rooms off Larran's entrance hall, waiting patiently. Mostly patiently anyway. He had been shown in by one of Larran's Bannik slaves. Oshana was nowhere in sight. The Banniks had their own ways despite their servitude. He knew they'd tell Oshana first and try to arrange her to meet with him without Larran being the wiser. Then they would inform Larran. He'd expected it may take Oshana some time to be able to see him, but it was starting to seem like both Oshana and Larran were trying to ignore he was even here.

His eyes wandered around the fine stone and machined metal laminate surfaces for some time, trying to entertain his troubled mind. Among Larran's priceless collections were many pre-enlightenment antiques. Some were too scandalous to be shown by anybody in a less secure position than Larran. Mounted between two imported bladed weapons on their stands was a holographic illustration.

The rendering was undoubtedly modern and from one of the underground rendering clubs. The Metropolise, in its protracted decay, had become a mecca for the obscure, occult and decadent. Arts were one of the chief crimes of the shadowy underground cultures. Most reeked of their rebellion by fixating on what might be considered objectionable by so-called decent Nebari society. Perhaps Larran might claim it was imported should anyone object. Perkunas could see it was native.

This rendering looked like it started life as a portrait of a wealthy Nebari lady. It was now a shadowy, gaunt, darkly warped image of an emaciated naked lady sneering at the viewer with shadows of weapons piled up all around her. She had her arm propped up on a gigantic, overly long pulse rifle of sorts. The setting looked like a dank cell of some sort. In many ways it reminded him of his operative, Tannac.

He wandered more, listening as sounds of shouts echoed down a hall. He could smell the faint trace of a rancid smoke coming from somewhere. He moved for the direction, wondering to himself with a slight smile if Larran was trying to burn his palace down or something. A shield blocked his path from further down the corridor. He sighed as he returned to amble back to the waiting rooms.

He halted at the entrance to the obscenely gaudy, blue and black office Larran often used for appointments. Stepping inside, he wandered if he shouldn't see if there were something he could gain by a little spying. Everything was put away however.

He was about to leave and return to gawk at Larran's collections again when he noticed the small security console face. It was placed as inconspicuously as possible, on the wall next to the doorway and lost between a bunch of standard communication interfaces. He glanced at the view in the palm sized screen ... and then looked again with a deeper interest.

In the view was a Nebari girl, alarmingly thin and completely naked. She hovered over a pile of clothes alight with fire, seeming to laugh as the thick smoke rose to the ceiling and rumbled across it in thick, black waves. Yet from what he could see she did resemble the only known image of Chiana he had seen which he suspected was authentic. In a very uncanny way.

He couldn't imagine, didn't want to believe his own immediate thoughts that this could be Chiana. It was hardly possible, but Oshana's ideas were very strong with the Fena's ... "And just where did you aquire this one, Larran?" Perkunas muttered to himself as he narrowed his eyes.

---

"What the frell are you doing!" Larran shouted as he rushed for Chiana, snatching her arm as servants began to douse the flames with extinguishers, causing even more smoke to fill the hall. "Are you trying to kill us all?"

"You told me to wear that dren, and then you have my clothes stripped off me," Chiana tilted her head with a quirk of her brows. "Well, if I can or can't have them, I don't like 'em!"

Larran squeezed her arm, gazing down her frail frame as he pushed her against the wall. "Do you really think I mind you running around naked? Because that's what you'll be doing from now on!"

He slung her away from him, forcing her into a stumble back into her room. She laughed, tussling her head as she stood in a broad stance. "Hey ... settle down, killer. Maybe ..." she slowly cut her eyes to one side, eyeing the cabinets along the wall before looking to him again with a wry smile. "Maybe the furniture's next. Where'd you get this stuff hu? The Zenetan flea market?"

"You must be delirious," Larran settled his gaze on her coolly as he turned on the doorway barrier.

---

"You've seen her haven't you?" Oshana practically accused.

"Keep your voice down," Perkunas muttered sharply as he glanced back. "This isn't exactly my idea of a safe place to converse for frell sake."

"Larran's offices are better than anywhere else," Oshana sighed as she played with her ear. She turned her gaze on him wildly. "So you will announce her in the intel lines?"

"Who?"

"Chiana," she narrowed her eyes sharply. "To get her out of here and among the people!"

"I have to admit she is a curious one," Perkunas half shrugged, wiping his face. "But Nerri's sister? What is she this time, a clone? A thousands of cycles resurrection?"

"They escaped prison transport," Oshana shifted her gaze around, wringing her hands as she fretted. "Her and the Sebacean. It would be worthy to research the old histories and see if there is a name as hers at the same time as Nerri's wouldn't there? Her and this - John Crichton."

"I ..."

"You know I don't need it," Oshana narrowed her eyes on him then. "The Fenas will believe me without your need for such evidence."

However improbable, the presence of the slightest possibility set his very being alight. Perkunas' eyes stared with a searing intensity. Leaps of thought were snatched away when a new set of footfalls approached. Perkunas looked aside to Oshana. The Bannik stiffened. Perkunas knew it was Larran. Oshana turned a little too eagerly. Perkunas made his best attempt at a casual turn to face Larran.

"I expect you have news of interest to me?" Larran's gaze held more than its customary air of jaded skepticism. Larran sat and snapped his fingers for Oshana to serve them drinks. Oshana scrambled to prepare two drinks from the bar at the opposite side of the office.

"Yes I have" Perkunas stepped forward, folding his hands behind his back, his black travel robe billowed out to either side and settled as he stayed put. "There is word from Org."

Larran was mildly surprised. "The Ram stone?"

Perkuna nodded once. "From a Zenetan, again. This at least has the benefit of being from the correct place. Do you smell smoke?"

"Perhaps someone should be attending the kitchens" Larran's glare bored into Oshana. The Bannik woman meekly served two drinks on the table, retreated from the room and broke into a run. "How much to find out?" Larran's eyes glinted shrewdly, but with the look of one who enjoys a game.

"75 Uthlin. They don't seem to know its value." Perkuna congratulated himself on his ability to improvise.

"Which makes one wonder if perhaps it wasn't a hoax" Larran agreed. "Pay it. Let's see the latest Ram Stone" Larran laughed. He swept from the room while Perkunas held his breath, amazed he had escaped suspicion. So far.

His black eyes cut hard toward the door Oshana had left. This one seemed so spectacularly impossible, it just begged him to leap to the same conclusions Oshana must have. This felt unreal enough to be real.

"The sister" he whispered in the empty room.

---

It wasn't easy to just stand there and watch Larran in his sickness, particularly in his pawing all over Chiana while he deliberated on what her punishment was going to be for burning all her clothes. The room still smelled like charred fabrics.

So far he was settled on having Chiana tied against the wall. She looked frightened but he could tell from the look in her eyes it was on, whatever Larran was going to dish out she was prepared to endure it. It seemed worth the price just to spite him and prove to herself her spirit was still free. Talk about chewing ones own foot off ...

His hands hurt so bad. They throbbed, on fire as he held them up to chest level, void of any expression in his eyes as he kept them on Chiana, waiting for Larran to start his little fealty game to frell with her mind. It wouldn't work, of course it wouldn't. Chiana knew him well enough that this was just going to be some stupid ruse to mess with Larran's head instead ... didn't she?

It's never easy.

Chiana gazed back, that distant look in her eyes. Maybe it was pride he figured. It was something she could do he almost envied, just zone out like that while Larran secured the chains, forcing her legs and arms wider apart. A dark chill came over him at wondering if her endurance now was partly because he was standing there, just watching and getting angrier. Chiana seemed capable of letting go of everything, even anger, pain, despite being one of the most passionate people he knew, always living it up and getting herself into dren like this. Comes with the territory?

Oh she was so gonna kill this guy when she had the chance. That made him almost smile. Chiana caught it but didn't return anything back, she was being ... well, so frelling smug despite what was coming. He loved and hated that about her, it reminded him so much of when ... when ...

He narrowed his eyes with a slow blink, pursing his lips as he tried to remember. Not all the memories were coming back and even ones they had been talking about before kept coming and going. Leviathan ... Moya. Nebari. Chiana in chains. The rings were all too familiar.

Deeper inside himself he found himself wishing he could excuse Larran out the door and do things of his own to her chained up like that. She'd like it, then again, he'd never do anything to hurt her. Not like he was going to have to now if they were going to get out of here. He was beginning to lose his confidence in the ruse. If he couldn't seem like he didn't care Larran would toss out the henchman idea ... she trusted him. With the intensity in his eyes he could only hope those crazy vibes of hers would pick up on him now, that he needed her to trust him more than ever now.

'Just pretend I'm mind cleansed Chiana. I'm just mind cleansed. You might never have anything to do with me again, but we're getting out of here. One way or another.'

"Your servicer believes himself to have a change of loyalties," Larran finally began as he casually moved around John to standing just behind him. "So he's going to have his way with you."

The bottom dropped out of John's expression. Chiana withdrew her gaze, drawing distant as she slowly rested her head to her shoulder. He wasn't sure what had made him feel somehow immune to Chiana's troubles because now it seemed like quite the reverse of what he'd been prepping himself up for was happening. He wanted him to frell Chiana? That was his big clever plans of screwing around with Chiana about his loyalties ... or it wasn't about Chiana at all this time, just good ole momma Crichton's baby boy. He couldn't do it, not like this. There was that sweet moment not so long ago beneath the trees in the bio-dome but that wasn't like this at all. John set his jaw with another slow blink.

"Hey I don't know man," he slurred in his surfer's accent as he displayed his bandaged hands. "It's really kind of hard to salute with your hands fresh out of the meat grinder, you know ... I just spent the last few days tied to my dinner chair?"

"A commendable escape," Larran commented as he folded his arms. "I can accommodate you of course, a little jaba fruit goes a long way. You can last for arns."

"What're you saying," John bit his bottom lip as he glanced to one side. "Viagra comes in strawberry?"

"I'm saying most servicers would hail such an opportune moment," Larran continued. "Unless, you prefer men."

"I'm definitely an exit only kind of guy."

"Hmm," Larran sighed lightly just behind him. "Just what is it you do for Chiana as her servicer? If you mean to remain so, I should at least arrange your assistance to her."

John turned at his shoulder slightly, enough to see where Larran was in proportion to himself. One good swing and he could take the devil bastard down. With his hands in the condition they were in though it'd have to really count and Larran was bound to anticipate the move.

"Now, now John," Harvey spoke up from nowhere. "How far do you expect to get if you kill him now? You're forgetting the rest of the Nebari Prime ... a whole death star - after you."

"Not the whole thing," John muttered as he stepped towards Chiana, meeting her eyes again. Somehow after the second step to her it was easier. Despite where he was and the conditions they were under ... maybe if he imagined they were cuddled up in those tree roots again. "Everybody has their South Walden Prime."

"And do you know where that is," Harvey asked. "Locked up in here?"

John rested his chin along Chiana's shoulder, his nose nearly in her ear as he gently placed his hands along her bare sides. "If I kill him now ..."

Chiana subtly leaned her head closer to John's, closing her eyes as her breath came in a long, deep sigh. "Somehow I imagined this just a little differently," she whispered.

"So did I," Harvey spoke from beside them before flicking his tongue out at Chiana.

"Oh God," John groaned as he pressed closer against Chiana. "You, are not helping! Just ..."

"What'd you expect me to do," Chiana barely smiled. "Chained up like this?"

"Not you, Harvey," John glared to the wall in the wild thrash of her hair as his hands slowly came down. He released his pants, relieving his growing hardness as he drew his lips along her ear. "S'gettin on my nerves."

"I wouldn't say nerves, exactly, John." Harvey sneered just behind him as John's hands found their way to the smooth contours of Chiana's buttocks, forgetful of his painful, bandaged hands. "Just tapping into some of those nasty urges of yours. My, my, kind of like hot wiring a Harley really ..."

"Can't hot wire a Harley," John protested thickly as Chiana sucked in her breath, half raising in her chains as he came into her.

Larran crossed his arms, his face beginning to burn with anger as he watched. They were enjoying each other and far too much. It wasn't the reaction he expected, yet again, with Chiana. Most of all John. He could excuse him being delirious or insane after his sprint with the dining table but the Nebari either had more mivonks than he had perceived or she was ... very into her servicer. He had expected Chiana to be humiliated at being mounted and frelled by a mere server.

"What kind of Nebari are you?" Larran wondered out loud as he stepped closer, glaring into Chiana as she softly moaned in John's slow, forceful motions. She barely opened her eyes, enough to look back at Larran with a lethargic sneer. He rested his hand on the wall, ignoring John as he narrowed his eyes on her. He brought the back of his hand to the side of her cheek. "How dare you test me," he muttered as he returned the smile.

Chiana closed her eyes again, a sharp gasp escaping her slack mouth as she rolled her head to one side. John felt himself reach a full hardness in the amazingly muscular, tight grip of her sex. He began to focus on forcing himself from the fierce grip of her sex and slowly back in. He felt her loosing herself into their pleasures without having to see her face. His awareness of both of the sick spectators he felt over his shoulder dropped into irrelevancy.

Suddenly Chiana stiffened, her whole body shuddering as she cried out. "No this won't do at all," Larran grit into his teeth as he pulled John away from Chiana. John staggered back when his staff came free, nearly knocking Larran over.

"Hey!" cried John in protest. "Give a guy a chance to finish why don't ya." Chiana snickered at his protest.

"You are finished," replied Larran, sneering at the offending servicer's staff, seemingly a hair from its own climax and wet with her remarkably abundant juices. "Come with me."

"So boss man, does I got the job," said John as he hurriedly pulled up and fastened his pants.

Larran kept a hard glare into John's eyes. "Yes, you do. You did....more than what was required to prove yourself. Come, lets find you some clothing more suitable to your new position."

John looked hesitantly back at Chiana. He hated to leave her like this but he had to go along with the ruse. She stared back at him with the same detached look as before. 'Trust me, little girl,' he thought. 'Hold on, we'll get out of this.'

John turned to find Larran patiently observing. John looked back to Chiana. "Do you still have some feelings for your former mistress?" asked Larran. "Perhaps a further demonstration of loyalty is necessary."

John turned and looked at him, letting the mask of indifference slide into place. "No, no that won't be necessary," he said. He smiled at Larran. "Let's go get those new threads boss and you can tell me what you want me to do."

Larran smiled as he led the way out of the room.

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