Gift Horse
Character timeline: post-Season Four
It has been five days since Crichton delivered himself into your hands. The details of his subterfuge are known, the arrangement with Crais, the seeming lack of any further plan past arriving at the carrier.
You allow him to believe he has 'pulled the wool' over your eyes. He is here, and even if he again breaks his pledge, you have Aeryn Sun. She is more than sufficient leverage. And of course, the presence of her child has proven already to have an beneficial, calming effect on John's usually rash behavior.
As before, you have not forced Crichton to perform. He is as entranced by the science of wormholes as you are. The longer he is allowed to immerse himself in the laboratory, to run with any hypothesis that springs to his ready mind, to work with other scientists, then the easier it becomes to guide him, and the more easily he accepts that guidance.
Despite his continued hostility.
You know John, far more than he may believe. His antagonism is real. It may never truly subside, but so long as he provides what you need, that is of no import. The two of you have co-existed before, have established an efficient working relationship. His histrionics aboard Moya beside, he knows you can offer him and his friends a safe haven, should he choose to accept.
A pet trelkaz may bite the hand that feeds it on occasion, but hand-raising produces the best animal, and the flavor of domesticated brains is far superior to that of wild game. You easily recall the taste of Crichton's brain, sweet and a little sour where the material from the chip had adhered. You'd thought his secrets were yours at last, and hubris had overtaken logic to leave him alive and gibbering to an empty room. How surprising it had been when he recovered, when he proved himself to be a survivor, much as you were, and are.
You have long since realized the necessity of keeping him alive. The gifts the Ancients granted him could die with him, and you have not been able to discover if they can be reproduced in another. In yourself, most desirably.
If the ability to navigate wormholes safely and reliably cannot be duplicated, then you will maintain John in a safe, loosely-restrained environment. He may have his mate and child. He can be granted greater privileges as time goes on. But you will never release him.
Not so long as Scarrans threaten the galaxy. Not so long as you need his knowledge. Never, as long as you need him.
He glances up from the streaming data on his console as if hearing your thoughts. Blue eyes meet yours, then casually slide away. The stylus taps faster on the desk.
You smile pleasantly, and return to your own calculations.
continued in Crichton's journal
It has been five days since Crichton delivered himself into your hands. The details of his subterfuge are known, the arrangement with Crais, the seeming lack of any further plan past arriving at the carrier.
You allow him to believe he has 'pulled the wool' over your eyes. He is here, and even if he again breaks his pledge, you have Aeryn Sun. She is more than sufficient leverage. And of course, the presence of her child has proven already to have an beneficial, calming effect on John's usually rash behavior.
As before, you have not forced Crichton to perform. He is as entranced by the science of wormholes as you are. The longer he is allowed to immerse himself in the laboratory, to run with any hypothesis that springs to his ready mind, to work with other scientists, then the easier it becomes to guide him, and the more easily he accepts that guidance.
Despite his continued hostility.
You know John, far more than he may believe. His antagonism is real. It may never truly subside, but so long as he provides what you need, that is of no import. The two of you have co-existed before, have established an efficient working relationship. His histrionics aboard Moya beside, he knows you can offer him and his friends a safe haven, should he choose to accept.
A pet trelkaz may bite the hand that feeds it on occasion, but hand-raising produces the best animal, and the flavor of domesticated brains is far superior to that of wild game. You easily recall the taste of Crichton's brain, sweet and a little sour where the material from the chip had adhered. You'd thought his secrets were yours at last, and hubris had overtaken logic to leave him alive and gibbering to an empty room. How surprising it had been when he recovered, when he proved himself to be a survivor, much as you were, and are.
You have long since realized the necessity of keeping him alive. The gifts the Ancients granted him could die with him, and you have not been able to discover if they can be reproduced in another. In yourself, most desirably.
If the ability to navigate wormholes safely and reliably cannot be duplicated, then you will maintain John in a safe, loosely-restrained environment. He may have his mate and child. He can be granted greater privileges as time goes on. But you will never release him.
Not so long as Scarrans threaten the galaxy. Not so long as you need his knowledge. Never, as long as you need him.
He glances up from the streaming data on his console as if hearing your thoughts. Blue eyes meet yours, then casually slide away. The stylus taps faster on the desk.
You smile pleasantly, and return to your own calculations.
continued in Crichton's journal