Chapter Thirty-nine: Jarvis - Damage Control

The Board took almost a full day to contact him after the disaster.

During that time, Jarvis kept to himself for the most part. He wasn't alone in doing so. Shock and demoralization had spread throughout the Messina in the aftermath. The deaths of two dozen of the best fighter pilots in the Known Systems, gunned down by a single man, had still not been made public, although rumors about the space battle were spreading throughout the civilian media. Ordered to maintain an almost complete comms blackout, the Messina and its crew floated above Troubadour in contemplative silence while the planet below clamored for an explanation. Within the Messina, few words were spoken.

People wandered around with reddened eyes and puzzled expressions. Certain seats in the lounge and cafeteria were conspicuously empty and carefully avoided. Everyone took elaborate detours to avoid having to pass through the echoingly vacant halls that had housed the pilots' quarters.

And Jarvis sat in his quarters, his arm in a sling, patiently awaiting the sword to fall.

Thirty-five years ago, real-time, he had stepped in to save this Project, after disaster had struck the first time. They hadn't stopped striking since, of course, but none of them had ever been as visible -- as public -- as the first one.

Until now.

Only twenty years had actually passed for him. Like all members of the military, he spent a great deal of his life in cryo-sleep. Right now he wished he could freeze his emotions and sock them away.

Fucking bastard killed more of my kids! he thought now and again. He knew the truth, too; Riddick had been running when he'd taken his shot. If it hadn't been for his shot, his attempt to take over the battle and kill the boy once and for all, Riddick would have left the arena with only two new notches on his belt. He'd slaughtered the fighters as a message, a personal message to Jarvis.

The worst part had been the helplessness. Floating in space in a crippled ship, forced to watch and unable to act as Riddick ran down each of his students and blew them to pieces. Finally he'd thought it would be his turn, but Riddick passed by his wreck, guns silent, in a mocking swoop before leaving the fray. That was when the message had struck him.

I'm not gonna kill you, Riddick had told him with that act. I'm just going to wipe out everything you care about.

More than ever, he knew there was no redeeming the boy. He should never have let him live in the first place. He should have terminated the project and everything in it after the failure of Phase I. He should have burned it to the ground.

More and more, Jarvis felt like a damned soul. Every life Riddick took seemed to hang around his own neck. His fault, his doing. He could have ended it at any time. A simple accident in the prison could have done it. Nobody would have cared; the world would have breathed a sigh of relief. If only that other Riddick didn't still live in his memory, the smiling boy triumphantly shouting "checkmate!" at him from across a hospital bed...

A boy who hasn't existed for almost two decades, he insisted to himself. That boy was Riddick's first victim. That boy is dead and the thing that walks in his place doesn't have the least bit of humanity left. Any time you want proof of that, look in Jack Kowalczyk's file. Then find him, look him in the eye, and pull the fucking trigger this time.

A smart rap sounded against the door of his quarters. "Lieutenant Jarvis?"

Game time, he told himself, and rose. He opened the door and found the petite Corporal from the day before standing in the hallway. She saluted formally.

"Corporal Mizuguchi, Sir. General Baldwin has requested your presence in the briefing room."

He nodded. "Lead the way."

"Sir." She turned smoothly and led him, although he knew the way even better than she did. After a moment he fell into step beside her.

"You did an excellent job yesterday, Corporal."

"Not good enough, Sir," she answered gravely.

"None of us were ready to face him," he said gently. She nodded beside him and drew a breath as if she was about to speak, but then released it with a heavy sigh. "Something on your mind, Corporal?"

He could see her carefully weighing what she wanted to say. Finally she came up with it. "Is there anybody who's actually ready to face him?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe the Fleet, if they were allowed to shoot to kill... he just seems to be stronger every time we encounter him."

It pierced his heart for a moment as the image of a bright-eyed seven year old boy, swathed with bandages but smiling joyfully, floated through his mind once more. Once there had been a genuine human being behind those eyes. Eventually even the eyes had gone, and all that had been left was a soulless monster. Damn, he'd really liked that boy...

That boy has been dead for a very long time, he told himself again. All that's left is the Charybdis. That's all he is, a monster that needs killing.

But there were times when he'd almost thought he'd seen the boy again. The moment after Jack Kowalczyk had been shot, he could have sworn he saw little Bryan Riddick again, just for a moment, staring back with a wounded expression as if he'd been the one shot... For a time he'd hoped that the boy could be saved. He'd hoped that Jack would be the one to save him. Instead, the creature once known as "Bry" had decided she'd betrayed him and he'd tortured her to death. The boy was dead along with Jack.

He stopped before the conference room door as Corporal Mizuguchi fell behind him. "Corporal, I would like you to attend this meeting."

A nervous frown creased her face. He knew what she was thinking: was he about to offer her up as a sacrificial lamb? Hardly. That wasn't how he repaid people. "Yes, Sir."

They entered the conference room and he gestured her to a seat.

Everyone was assembled. Drs. Aspen and Markowski were on hand, along with all four of his surviving Sergeants. Now they were eight. Nine if you counted the grave-looking General whose face filled the viewscreen.

"Thank you for coming, Lieutenant Jarvis. Who is your companion?"

Jarvis nodded to her. "This is Corporal Mizuguchi, sir. She took over the bridge when I left to pursue Riddick. I felt that her observations might be helpful."

Unsaid, but heard by everyone in the room along with the General: This is someone who has earned her place here. Someone on the move upward.

General Baldwin nodded. "First, I want to extend my condolences to all of you. This must be a very difficult time for everyone on board the Messina."

"Thank you, Sir," he said quietly. Why did that phrase feel so rehearsed to him? Oh yes. Jack had used exactly the same inflections every time she'd said that phrase in Parker's office, months ago.

"Under the circumstances, it has been decided by the Tribunal that the Messina will not pursue Riddick to Earth. We feel that your crew, even if they were deemed combat-ready so soon after this tragedy, would no longer be capable of maintaining enough of a level of detachment to facilitate a live capture. The Messina will remain in orbit above Troubadour for the time being."

Jarvis nodded. He hadn't expected anything else, really.

"I am very disturbed by the fact that you, Lieutenant Jarvis, appear to have disobeyed direct orders. Our analysis of your fighter craft's logs indicate that you deliberately targeted the reactor core of one of Riddick's engines. Had your shot actually hit on target, his entire ship would have been vaporized. That is not a disabling shot. You were attempting to kill him."

"Yes, Sir, I was," Jarvis answered softly.

"This is a very disturbing action, Lieutenant. Your impartiality seems to be compromised in this matter. Now, all of us are in agreement that your work for the Project has been superb, and we don't want to have to remove you from your position. But we will have to review these events carefully. You are to remain on or above Troubadour while we do so. You are officially assigned to Administrative Leave for the duration of the review."

These were actually much less stringent measures than Jarvis had expected. He realized that he was disappointed; secretly he'd been hoping that he and the Project were about to part ways.

And then what? he reminded himself. A bullet in the back of the head some quiet night? An accident? Nobody leaves the Project alive.

With one very large, very dangerous exception, of course.

"Yes, Sir," he said after a moment.

"I expect you to use your time to discover exactly what Riddick was doing on Troubadour. Start with the man he killed, Peter Malcolm. If we can find out what motivated him to kill this man, perhaps we can get a handle on his mental state. You are to coordinate with Dr. Aspen and report your findings directly to me."

"Yes, Sir," he said again. He felt like a skipping disc... or a young woman mouthing formal "thank-yous" at the two men she knew were planning on ruining her life. Jack. Always on his mind now, never far from the surface. He hadn't begun to hate Riddick until she'd died.

Dr. Aspen looked up at the viewscreen. "I already have a few ideas about what motivated that killing, General. If I may?"

"Certainly, Doctor."

"Most of us already know what Peter Malcolm had been doing for the last several years. After his body was discovered, he was found to possess an extensive collection of--" her face twisted for a moment in loathing. "--female body parts. Trophies he'd taken from women he'd raped and murdered. He'd preserved them carefully and the forensics unit assigned to the case were able to identify most of his victims through DNA testing. He killed more than one hundred women on six different planets."

Corporal Mizuguchi had never been privy to this information before. Now she retched beside Jarvis, her sudden pallor showing through her beautiful Asian complexion.

Aspen shot the Corporal a sympathetic glance. They'd all been horrified when they'd learned of Peter Malcolm's hobbies.

"Malcolm, as we know, was murdered in a very specific way. His abdominal cavity was opened and his small intestine was drawn out very carefully and wrapped repeatedly around his throat. Riddick did this particular act on only one other occasion, after Miss Kowalczyk was shot, when he believed her to be dead. When he did it to the Special Forces cadets, he killed them first. Malcolm, however, survived for approximately six hours after the evisceration before Riddick finally stabbed him to death."

Aspen took a deep breath. "I believe that this, too, was a revenge killing. I think we should research Malcolm's female victims carefully, as well as any women who died similarly but have not yet been connected with Malcolm. It's very possible that one of them had some kind of relationship with Riddick. We believe he murdered the cadets as a 'punishment' aimed at Lieutenant Jarvis. I believe that he was similarly 'punishing' Malcolm."

"It's an interesting theory, Doctor," the General replied after a moment. "But that would suggest that Riddick has once more established a connection with another human being. I was under the impression that you no longer believed him to be capable of such connections."

"Sir, it's just a theory. It's possible that Riddick attacked Malcolm for some altogether different reason. I'm only suggesting it because of the MO connection between the two incidents. There is, however, an indication that he may have a female companion with him."

"Oh?"

"His ship was registered as the Singing Swan, owned by Roger and Angelica Porter. Someone using the name Angelica Porter purchased toiletries at a store near the Orleans spaceport two days ago. I haven't been able to acquire any additional information yet, but this would indicate that Riddick does have a female companion."

Jarvis found that he'd clenched his fists tightly. Riddick had a hostage. Maybe this "Angelica" thought she was with a safe person. Maybe she even knew who she was with and thought she could trust him. But sooner or later she would end up exactly like Jack Kowalczyk unless they managed to get her away from him.

And he'd been cut out of the loop.

"Very well," Baldwin finally said. "It's a plausible theory and one that needs to be explored. You are to inform the public of Troubadour that Riddick was on their world. You may tell them about the dogfight and its outcome. Do not release the pilots' names, yet. We haven't begun notifying their families. Do your best to get the cooperation of the local government and law enforcement officials. Find out everything you can about Riddick's activities and movements while he was on Troubadour. Find out about this 'Angelica Porter,' if you can. We expect Riddick to reach Earth in another two weeks. I want to know what he plans to do by then."

"Yes, Sir." This time everyone at the table said it.

"One last thing, Lieutenant Jarvis. You will be on administrative leave for the duration of this inquiry. Your Sergeants will be managing the investigation on the planet along with you. I need you to name someone to take command of the Messina until you -- or your successor -- are restored to duty."

Jarvis nodded his head at the woman beside him. "Corporal Mizuguchi displayed commendable skill and resourcefulness yesterday, Sir. She took control of the bridge when I abandoned my post to join the battle. I intended to recommend her for promotion to the rank of Sergeant when I returned from combat, and I still recommend it. I can think of no one better to put in charge for the interim."

"Very well. Corporal Mizuguchi, you are hereby raised to the rank of Sergeant and put in charge of the Messina until further notice. Lieutenant Jarvis's appraisal of your skills is noted in your record. Please be assured that, no matter what the result of our inquiry into his conduct should be, it will have no detrimental effect on your own record."

"Thank you, Sir," Mizuguchi stammered. She'd been taken completely by surprise.

Thought I was going to throw you to the wolves, huh, kid? he thought wryly. I don't do that kind of thing. Maybe Riddick would have, in my place, but I don't. I still have a conscience.

He stared at the darkened viewscreen for a long time after the meeting ended. He was the last one to leave.

God help me, I still have a conscience. And right now it's trying to flog me to death.

Finally he rose and headed for the shuttle bay. It was time to go down to Troubadour and begin cleaning up his boy's latest mess.