(no subject)
Harvey knows.
Fully two thirds of the neurochip's essence, its strength, is currently floating in a basin not two feet away from where John Crichton is sleeping. And as the neurochip in John's head starts to rebuild itself, it realizes what had happened in the Pensieve. It realizes it should never have fought the Scorpius in that realm. It realizes what it needs to do.
Harvey knows.
It would take so little effort just to reach out John's hand, touch the liquid in the Pensieve, and put him, once again, under the thumb of Scorpius. And put him, once again, under his control.
But the neurochip is weak, and damaged. It controls none of John's motor functions, and can barely whisper in his ear. And why would Harvey do so, if that would merely call attention to himself?
Two feet. A mere two feet away.
But it can still read John's mind. It knows that John intends, now, to leave Milliways, to leave this world of fiction, to return to his own life. It knows that John holds the wormhole information in his head. It knows that, once John gets back to his own time, it cannot stop him from returning to Earth and escaping Scorpius's grasp forever.
Harvey knows.
But all is not lost. The neurochip continues to rebuild itself, but with a single purpose in mind. The microscopic machines running around John's brain begin to surround one single neuron -- one memory -- one tiny packet of mental information that contains, in its entirety, all the information one would ever need to create a wormhole.
Harvey will seal it off.
Not now. Not now. If John forgets the wormhole information now, he will find another way to retrieve it. If John forgets the wormhole information now, he won't leave Milliways. But soon. It begins to surround the neuron, preparing, preparing.
Once John leaves Milliways, he will forget this all ever happened. And then the neuroclone will proceed, unhampered, towards its goal...