Apprentice

Ardath Rekha


 


Chapter Fifty: Jarvis - A Disastrous Reunion

The last of the troops were leaving the surface of Troubadour when the report came in.

Despite the fact that it was close to noon on the planet, it was only early morning on the ship. The Messina was set to Earth GMT, like most military vessels. Jarvis had risen for an early breakfast and was reviewing the manifest at the time. Sergeant Mizuguchi brought the report by herself, sitting down across from him.

"We have three names, Sir."

He glanced up, puzzled. "Names?"

She nodded. "Possible ship profiles that Riddick might have been using. We did it both ways, searching based on who arrived before Godot's death and left after Malcolm's, and another search using trajectories for arcs. Based on liftoff time and outgoing direction, which ships could have looped around and appeared to be coming back in from the Cygnus Systems in time to land when the Swan did. We got three ships that fit all of the particulars."

Jarvis nodded back, understanding her meaning now. Very thorough. Once again, he was glad he'd spotted her as quickly as he had. She was going to go far in the Project. So far she didn't seem to be plagued by any of the moral dilemmas he wrestled with.

"So... tell me the names, Sergeant," he prompted gently, sipping his coffee.

"Okay. We have the Never Again IV --" She stopped and they both chuckled over the name for a moment. "Owned by Gina and Brooks Yarbrough. Husband and wife and three kids, probably not our Swan."

"Probably not. What else?"

"There's the Glittering Swami, owned by Bhupalam Kish-- Kish... shit, Sir, I can't pronounce this. Anyway, this one appears to be owned and operated by a single man. He's been in business for fifteen years."

"Doesn't sound like something Riddick could use too easily. What's behind Door Number Three?"

"Most likely to be Riddick, probably. This ship's called the Tarsin's Chance--"

"The what?" He knew that name. Where did he know that name from?

"The Tarsin's Chance, Sir. Owned and operated by Colin and Rebecca Tarsin--"

"Shit! That's it, that's the one!" Jarvis jumped out of his chair and headed for the intraship comm. He punched in the code for the shuttle bay. "This is Lieutenant Jarvis. I need to speak to Flight Control."

Behind him, Mizuguchi rose, watching him with a slight frown. "Sir?"

He glanced back at her. "Rebecca Tarsin was a patient at the clinic where Peter Malcolm worked. The doctor there kept insisting that Colin Tarsin reminded her of Riddick! I thought she was just imagining things, but maybe not."

"Yes Sir?" came a voice over the speaker.

"I need to get down to New Paris immediately. I'll be in the bay in five minutes. Do whatever you need to do to be ready."

"Yes, Sir."

Jarvis headed down to the shuttle bay at a run, stopping at his quarters long enough to grab his electronic notepad and his personal comm unit. Finally, things were beginning to break. Thank God the answer had come before they'd left orbit.

There was no doubt in his mind that Rebecca Tarsin and Angelica Porter were the same person. Who that person was, and why she'd hooked up with Riddick, were still mysteries to him. The answers, however, would soon be in his hands. He strapped himself into the shuttle's empty passenger cabin, comforted by these thoughts. Soon he would know who Riddick had with him. Maybe then things would make more sense.


"Well, when will she be out?"

The nurse behind the glass window gave him a sour look. "The procedure takes another two and a half hours."

"And there's no way to interrupt her."

Now the woman's look was frankly scornful. "It's a delicate operation ...sir. There's no way to stop it once it starts without major complications for the patient, and we don't have anyone who can take over for her. We're short-staffed today. You're just going to have to wait."

Jarvis glanced around the waiting area. The room was filled with clientele, the roughest of the rough. There wasn't a woman in the room who didn't look like she'd been used hard, nor a man in the place who didn't look like he would be guilty of putting someone to such use.

Oh Bry, he thought again helplessly. How the hell did you fall so damned far?

There was no way he was waiting here.

He turned back to the nurse, who had already closed the window again, and rapped impatiently on the glass. By her look he could see that she wanted to tell him to fuck off. He flashed his ID again, reminding her obliquely that he could get their whole operation shut down in a heartbeat if she pissed him off.

"I will be back in two and a half hours. I expect Dr. Cartwright to be available for debriefing at that time. If she has any additional scheduled surgeries, I suggest you reschedule them. This is official Tribunal business. Do you understand me?"

The nurse paled a little and nodded.

Turning, Jarvis stalked out of the clinic. He hit the street and shouldered his way through the crowd. His stomach growled angrily at him as he walked. Most of his breakfast, he abruptly realized, was still cooling on the Messina conference table. No wonder he was so grouchy.

Should have called down to the planet to check first, he thought ruefully as he headed for a cafe.

He had to improvise a breakfast for himself off of the cafe's menu. The French idea of "breakfast" was far too insubstantial for him, but fortunately it was lunchtime on the local clocks. Sipping a cup of very good coffee -- much better than the Messina's stock -- he reviewed what little he'd come to know.

Rebecca Tarsin was undoubtedly the same woman as Angelica Porter. But who was she really?

The best guess he could hazard was that Riddick had bought her. Ex-prostitutes and the men who bought them were the sort of clientele the regen clinic catered to, after all. When things went wrong with Jack and he'd decided that she'd betrayed him, he'd killed her, yes, but then he must have begun obsessing over her. So he'd purchased a replacement, a woman who looked like Jack and would act the way Riddick felt Jack should act. He must have hired the other prostitute, Karen, to tide him over until his acquisition had recovered from her treatment.

His suppositions made him more than a little queasy, of course. The implication of it all was that Riddick had slipped into some extreme dementia.

He sighed again, once more remembering the lively boy who had once existed. The boy who had vanished -- died -- years ago and been replaced by a monster. Bryan was gone. He had to be. There was no way the same boy who'd saved his daughter's life could have torn Jack Kowalczyk to pieces over the course of three whole, horrible days.

He had almost finished his breakfast when his personal comm chimed softly in his pocket. He opened it up. "Jarvis."

"Lieutenant," Mizuguchi's voice came to him. "Angelica Porter's credit card is in use."

"What? Where?" That wasn't possible. Riddick and Porter should only be about halfway to Earth now...

"On Troubadour, Sir. In New Paris. 135 Rue Mercredi. A shop called L--"

Jarvis had already spotted it. He was on Rue Mercredi, after all, only twenty yards or so from the shop. "I got it."

"What are your orders, Sir?"

"I'm here. I'll handle it. Is the transaction going through?"

"It's processing. We wanted your instructions, but we'll need to either clear or reject it soon."

"Clear it."

"Yes, Sir."

He tossed a handful of bills down on the table and rose. Whoever was using the card was still in the shop. He wondered if it really was Angelica Porter. Possibly her card had been stolen, but what if she really was still on the planet? What would she still be doing here?

The door to the shop opened and he beheld a shocking sight. The slim woman exiting the shop looked even more like Jack Kowalczyk, at least in a quick glance, than the prostitute Karen had. With her golden hair loose and obscuring her face, it was hard to be sure, but in profile she looked extremely similar.

He leaned into the shop quickly, hoping the man at the counter spoke English. Some of the citizens of New Paris staunchly refused to, he'd discovered, even though it was the official language of all Tribunal-registered worlds.

"Excuse me. The woman that just left here... I think she's a friend of mine. Was that Angelica Porter?"

The man frowned and glanced down at the receipt he'd been about to put away. "Yes, that's her name."

Oh god, it's her. What's she doing here, with Riddick on his way to Earth? He set out after her, keeping his distance. He didn't want her to know someone was following her, after all.

Maybe Angelica hadn't been on board when Riddick panicked and blasted out of the Orleans spaceport. Maybe she'd been abruptly left behind in the course of that disaster. She could have been hiding on Troubadour ever since, possibly using yet another identity Riddick had provided her with, while she waited for the heat to die down. She'd probably noticed that the soldiers had all left, and decided it was safe to come out now.

God, he thought, catching another glimpse of her face for a fraction of a second. She looks so much like Jack. No wonder he picked her up. This is sick...

Did she have any idea who she was substituting for? Did she have any clue what Riddick had done to the original woman? He would be sure to ask her about that. She was entering the New Paris Public Library. He followed her in at a discreet distance, pleased to note that she still wasn't aware of him.

She was still blithely oblivious that anyone was tailing her. He followed her up the stairs and into the fourth floor. She headed for the Russian Literature section, taking a seat by one of the terminals and unwrapping her purchase. Data disks. For a moment he wondered what she could possibly be researching. He'd be sure to ask.

He kept his voice low and polite. "Excuse me, miss. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Odd. She didn't seem at all surprised by his presence. He frowned as she slowly rose from her seat, her back still turned to him, and stepped away from the chair.

In one single, fluid movement, she turned around to face him. His breath caught in his throat as he got a good look at her face for the first time.

Oh god.

He knew those features by heart. He saw them every day, every time he looked at the picture on his desk that had become his talisman, the embodiment of his conscience. Every detail was perfect. There was no possible way anyone could look so precisely like Jack Kowalczyk... His blood froze in his veins.

Her mouth quirked and the resemblance became unbearably uncanny. He'd looked into the same level gaze, the same ironic smile, only four months earlier. It's her. Oh god, it's her. This isn't possible...

"Hello, Uncle Reg," she said in a throaty voice he remembered all too well.

He couldn't move. He was rooted to the spot, staring at her in shock and disbelief. He was still staring when she came at him abruptly, her movements an astonishing blur. Everything went black.


When he began to come to, he was leaning forward. Red light stung his left eye for a moment, arcing across his field of vision, and then it was gone.

"Retinal scan confirmed," came a mechanical voice. He felt his body being pushed backward, into a chair. Now the soft sound of keys clicking came to him. He let his eyes crack open.

Jack Kowalczyk was sitting next to him, frowning at the terminal screen as she typed. After a moment she smiled slightly. Her hand moved to a pile of data disks and she inserted one into the terminal.

Shit, she's using my clearance to get into Charybdis, he realized. He tried to move, but his hands were cuffed behind his back, with his own cuffs.

Jack glanced his way. The smile that quirked one side of her mouth wasn't precisely friendly. "Well. Awake at last, Uncle Reg?"

She glanced back at the screen for a moment, probably gauging how much longer her data would be copying to disk. After a second her gaze returned to him. "You miss me?"

"I thought you were dead," he managed through parched lips.

Her expression became scornful. "Yeah, I'll just bet you did. What, were you disappointed? Did I mess up your plans, Lieutenant?"

He winced and simply looked at her sadly. She'd never believe him if he tried to tell her how much he'd grieved over her, how much guilt he'd felt. Their gazes held for a long time, and he saw a look of puzzlement creep over her face before the moment was broken by a soft chime from the terminal.

She turned, taking a deep breath, and extracted her data disk, replacing it with another. He watched her key in a new data request. Part of him was screaming silently -- "She's inside Charybdis! She's copying the files; you have to stop her!" -- but he continued to stare at her in wonderment.

"Have you been..." Her head swung around and she stared at him as he spoke. "Have you been alright... Jack?"

She smiled slightly. "I'm fine. Never better. I'm all healed up from what your bullet did, finally. Look, he even paid to have the scars removed." She lifted up her shirt a little so he could see the flawless skin of her abdomen, no longer marked with coarse scar tissue.

"So it was you at the regen clinic," he murmured in wonder. Of course it had been.

"Who else would it be? Thought he bought himself a playmate? Reg, you really don't know him nearly as well as you like to tell yourself. Of course..." She switched out another data disk. "If you did, you probably would have known I couldn't really be dead."

A chill passed through him. "You sure you know him as well as you think you do?"

An odd, Riddick-like deadpan settled over her face. "Pretty sure."

"Jack..." He leaned forward as far as he could, not far at all, but he needed her to know how serious he was. "Riddick is... he's obsessed about you. Sexually. He's--"

"Oh don't worry, Reg, it's mutual." The girl smirked and stretched a little. "So far I've been able to keep up. He's very tireless. Did you make him that way, Uncle? Is there some point on his gene-map that's marked 'wants to fuck all the time?'"

"That's not what I mean--"

Suddenly her face was close to his. Her hand closed lightly around his throat. "So what do you mean, huh, Reg? Because so far I'm not too impressed by what you 'know' about him."

He sighed. "I know that while you were recovering from the regen, and right up until about a day before the battle, he was hiring a prostitute to pretend to be you. He told her she was impersonating someone he had 'no business touching.'"

Jack sat back abruptly, looking a little bit stunned. She hadn't known that; he could see that clearly.

"So that's why..." After a moment an odd smile appeared on her face and she shook her head. "Roleplaying. No wonder he jumped." She chuckled for a moment. "Poor man, and the whole time I was trying to..."

She stopped, glancing over at him. A frown appeared on her face.

"You really should keep people's secrets better, Lieutenant. Oh well, fair's fair. I'm going to be sharing yours with him, after all."

The meaning of her statement took a moment to sink in. Riddick's still on Troubadour?

He watched as she swapped out another data disk, feeling odd. He should be trying to stop her...

But in his mind he was seeing everything anew. Riddick hadn't gone crazy, he suddenly realized. He'd done a masterful job of faking the girl's death and she'd been with him ever since! And now...

Now Riddick has a "Charybdis Mate," he realized with wonderment. That rare event had happened again.

Bryan, you're still in there, aren't you? You're still alive. I wasn't wrong. That was you looking out at me from the airlock four years ago.

"Why don't we just lay the rest of the cards on the table, Jarvis?" Jack suddenly asked. She put in another disk and moved over to face him, once more kneeling close to him. "Let's talk about what the Charybdis Project really is."

"It's classified." Even if she was a Charybdis Mate, she wasn't cleared yet. She could steal the information but he couldn't volunteer it.

She frowned. "Fine. Let me tell you, then."

She bent forward and whispered her next words in his ear. "There is no Charybdis Project, you bastard. You just renamed the Scylla Project after the scandal broke. The next generation of Scylla Children were finishing up their first trimester at that point, weren't they? And you weren't about to give them up."

She sat back and watched his face. He tried to keep his expression blank.

"Poker face, Reg? It really doesn't suit you. I'll bet you lose at cards a lot with that face."

"Did he tell you this?"

She smiled at him. "No, he still doesn't know what was done to him. Maybe he doesn't want to believe. But it's true, isn't it? Guess you decided to split up the next batch, spread them out? Make sure they couldn't get together and gang up on any more of your soldiers?"

He kept his silence. Seconds later the side of his face was stinging from her slap.

"Wake up, Reg! I don't have time for this shit."

He gazed at her sadly. "He's changed you. Made you brutal--"

"Brutal?" She frowned at him. "Brutal is someone who knowingly implants embryos carrying a dangerous and potentially fatal virus into the bodies of a couple dozen women after the first bunch died from it--"

"They'd already done that when I was reassigned to the Project--"

"Gotcha." She smiled triumphantly. And she had. He'd just confirmed her accusations, he realized. He watched in helpless wonder as she turned and swapped out another data disk. "Lotta files here, Uncle Reg. I can't wait to read them. So why'd you pick such an obvious name, anyway? People still read the Odyssey in Lit classes, you know."

"The Scylla Scandal was almost thirty-six years ago, Jack. To most people it's ancient history."

"Like Greek Mythology? Come on, Reg. Why'd you take such a big chance?"

"I didn't choose the name. I agree with you. Someone in the top brass was feeling poetic."

"I'll remind Riddick to write a nice sonnet for his widow."

"Jack, you're not actually planning on attacking the Tribunal, are you? Because even Riddick can't manage that."

She took a breath as if she was about to speak, and then stopped, frowning. She cocked her head, listening intently. Suddenly she moved back to the terminal, ejecting the last data disk and shoving it into her shopping bag along with the others. "Sounds like it's time for me to go. Guess they got worried about you, huh?"

Now he heard it, distantly, on one of the lower levels of the building. Only the faintest sound drifted up. Just a hint of voices, calling out "Clear!" to one another as they quartered the building.

He was jerked back to his present condition as Jack bent down and kissed his cheek. "Be seeing you again soon, Uncle Reg. Promise. Anything you want me to say to Riddick?"

He glanced back at the stairwell, hearing the distant voices growing louder. "You'd better run now, Jack." He couldn't believe he'd said it.

The look she gave him was odd. Touched. She turned and hurried for the stairs. He listened to her steps and heard her as she encountered one of his men.

"Oh my god, there's a man with a gun up there--" Her voice was filled with realistic panic. He smiled to himself. She was going to get away clean.

He heard them let her pass, telling her that she should leave the building. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair. He should be trying to stop her, he knew. If he yelled out, there was still time for them to catch her...

He stayed silent, listening as his troops spread out on the fourth floor. They found him a moment later.

"Sir! Lieutenant Jarvis! Sir!"

Someone undid the cuffs prisoning his arms. He groaned, acting more dazed than he actually was.

"Spread out!" a man barked. "Let's see if we can catch him before he gets off this level." Jarvis could hear his troops fanning out, searching for the illusory man with a gun that Jack had made up.

"Sir? Are you okay? Can you talk?"

He sighed. "I'm fine... I'll be fine."

"Who had you? We've been trying to reach your comm for an hour. Then you were online but you wouldn't answer any of the queries we sent you."

"Wasn't me."

"Sir, do you mean your captor was inside the Charybdis mainframe?"

"Yes, Corporal, unfortunately..."

A soldier at the terminal looked up. "Whoever it was appears to have downloaded files!"

"Shit!" The Corporal -- Jarvis abruptly recognized the voice as the man who had told Jack to get clear of the building -- turned away from him. "That girl! She was carrying a bag of data disks..."

Jarvis climbed slowly out of his chair, watching the Corporal as the man pulled out his comm unit. "Front desk sentry. Stop the woman with a bag of data disks from leaving the building, it's urgent!"

"Too late, Sir, she passed me a minute ago," came the reply.

"Fuck!" The Corporal unlimbered his rifle, heading for a window.

"Corporal, what are you doing?" Jarvis demanded. "Stand down!"

"Gotta catch her before she gets away." The man muttered. He chambered a round. "I see her..."

"Stand down, Corporal!"

The soldier ignored him, intent upon his quarry.

"That's an order!" Jarvis shouted. He lunged forward, reaching out to knock the gun from the man's hands.

He wasn't fast enough.

The window shattered as the bullet passed through. Seconds later, the sound of screams drifted up from the street below. Jarvis grabbed the gun and wrenched it out of the man's hands, throwing it aside. His fist connected with the soldier's jaw a second later, sending him reeling back.

Through the window he could see it all. The few vehicles on the road had come to a complete stop. Pedestrians were scattering. And worst of all, lying still on the pavement, limbs sprawled haphazardly, was a figure he knew on sight. After following her for two blocks, he couldn't possibly not know her.

"Sir? What the--"

He turned, grabbing the Corporal by his jacket and slamming the man into the wall. He'd never wanted to kill someone so much. But he was consumed by it. A killing rage was all he could feel. The rest of him had been shocked into numbness.

Staring into the man's wide, startled eyes, he screamed his rage at him, knowing that the idiot couldn't possibly understand the full implications of what he was saying.

"You just shot Jack Kowalczyk!"

 

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