She sliced through the water, her lungs bursting for a breath of air. The
next time she surfaced, she quickly turned her head to the side, gulping in
air before ducking her head under again. Then she felt the cold hard wall
in front of her, her hand gripped it above the surface, pulling her to the
top. She folded her arms over the edge. She was breathing heavily, making
up for the lost breaths under water. Every day she came here and ever day
she increased the number of laps she did. The room was silent except for
the lapping of the water against the sides. The way she wanted it to be.
She always made sure she came so early in the morning that no one except
her would be there and she could swim without need of a disguise. She could
be herself.
There was a loud startling bleep from a bag in the corner. Her head turned sharply at the noise. A message. She quickly hoisted herself out of the pool and moved quickly over to the bag, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her. She opened her bag and pulled out a small communicator. It was a screen with a row of small buttons below it. It looked like a piece of old flight equipment, hiding the sleek high tech electrics that worked it. She waved a hand over it, allowing the com to register it was her and allow use. The screen switched to a city scene, black smog belched out of a couple tall chimneys. It looked like Tri-Furor, a dirty city run from the underground up on a planet a galaxy or so away. She waited for someone to speak. Then a computerised voice spoke
"Jack, Tri-Furor, next week, ComLink Food Court, 14:00pm"
Then as soon as it had appeared, the picture on screen vanished. Jack smiled and put the com back into her bag. It was time for her to get changed and get out of here before people started arriving. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked silently out of the room. She went down a dark lit corridor, turning off through a door to an empty changing room. She stopped in front of a metal panel and pressed a button.
"Name please and number" a crisp computer voice issued
"Melinda Clark, 5530" Jack replied
The panel buzzed for a second before swinging open. She put her bag down and stripped out of her one-piece navy blue swimsuit. Being naked in front of anyone else except herself was not an option, having someone eye her up who she didn't love disgusted her. That was why the place was empty. After a quick rub down with a towel, she pulled a bottle out of the space the panel had revealed and shook it. She quickly poured a brown substance into her hands and began rubbing it into her skin, everywhere she could reach at least. When she was out on the streets, she had to disguise herself, it was an art she'd quickly picked up and learnt. It was good fun after a while, morphing from one person into another, revisiting the ones that worked best. This skin darkener would make her look darker than tan, a dramatic difference from her usual paleness. After finishing that, she pulled a spray can out and quickly blitzed herself all over with the thin clear liquid inside of it. It made the skin set quickly, almost instantly in fact.
She looked at herself in the mirror with a smile; her skin looked like she'd been born in it. Perfect. She grabbed another bottle and ran to a basin over the other side of the room, dumping the liquid in her hair as soon as her head was over it. After a vigorous hair dying session, she returned to her panel space with raven black hair. She pulled on a pair of grubby green combat pants and a white vest top, patchy in places, the outfit of a tech fixer. She quickly put everything back into her bag, slipping the com into her pocket before putting on a narrow pair of glasses with black lenses; they were like a thin narrow band over her eyes, a single piece of shiny plastic detailed in silver.
Jet Marrow stared back at her from the mirror. A trim athletic body with womanly curves showing, thick black hair that was cut with no bangs and reached past the nape of her neck, cut close to her head. Her occupation was a com technical fixer. All her aliases had some link to technical work. Jack grinned at her reflection before turning, grabbing her bag and going to the bathroom area. It wasn't safe to go through the front way since people were likely to be starting to come through for their own swims. She hurriedly threw open a huge window and jumped through to the back lot, no one there to notice her. She carefully closed the window and started walking, eager to get home so that she could prepare for her latest flight. It always gave her a thrill to think about it, flying solo was something she'd dreamed of but was never allowed to pursue, her parents never thought it possible. Her parents thought she was dead.
She passed people in the street without giving them a second glance but she made sure she gave the law enforcers a particularly wide berth. The last thing she wanted was to be recognised. She slipped in between everyone, a stony expression on her face and a clear plastic card clipped to her pants pocket identifying her. No one gave her a second glance; she looked like every other worker here; tired, charged with energy and angry. She reached her building quickly, slipping her card in the door before stepping through and racing to catch a lift before it left for her floor. She slipped into a free one and programmed it for floor 29, keying in its maximum speed before closing the doors. In a couple of seconds she was there.
Her door was close to the lift, with another keypad to get in. Inside, she threw her bag down and herself down beside it on the couch. She allowed herself a few seconds to gather her thoughts, for everything to fall into place behind her closed eyes. Then she sat up and began emptying her bag; throwing things haphazardly onto the floor.
"That should do it" she muttered under her breath as she reached the bottom
Then her fingers brushed against something, rubber and plastic, stretchy and hard. Frowning, she closed her hand around it and drew it out to see. She smiled when she saw what it was. Her Riddick goggles. She remembered wearing them on top of her shaved head, over her eyes or around her neck. She could still hear Paris' bemused voice as she walked into the room with her new look for the first time
"She's first in the look-a-like contest"
Johns had been furious, nearly demanding that she take it off immediately. Back then, he'd still thought she was a guy, everyone did. Luckily for her, Fry had told Johns that Jack could wear what he liked. She knew that Fry felt a little responsible for her with Jack being the youngest and Fry being the captain. She'd smiled at Jack reassuringly, even though Jack knew that Fry didn't really like the outfit much herself. Riddick had been silently amused by it, she'd seen it in the way he looked her sideways out of the corners of his eyes and smirked. She wasn't sure if he was flattered by her imitation or smug that it had got under Johns' skin.
She'd forgotten about the goggles, stuffing them into her bag as a sort of talisman. Riddick had been kept out of the authorities clutches for long enough, maybe it would work for her. She'd never taken them out since and sure enough, she'd stayed safe. Some would say it was runaway's luck, she knew the truth. She'd had training from the best. Richard B Riddick.
After landing on Bangor, she hadn't known what to do. There was no one to take her in, no relatives. None that knew about her anyway. Iman had offered to look after her, take her back to his community where the news about his three dead sons had to be broken and mourned. But Riddick had told him that he'd look after her for a couple of weeks, then she could go out on her own. She'd been thrilled with the idea. She liked Iman a lot but staying in a place where religion was central was not her idea of an existence. Not one for a runaway orphan like herself. Riddick had taken her into the heart of the city and shown her the com-boards up about her. They hung in the sky like beacons; claiming either her death or a reward for her capture. She could scarily believe it was her up there; her parents evidently wanted her back. She knew they wouldn't care if it was just a body that appeared instead. Riddick said very little, he wasn't talkative; he just wanted to get on with things. He guided her through the city, showing her how to slip past authority and how to disguise yourself, finding ID cards long lost you could form identities out of. He'd been surprised at her high level knowledge of computers, finding her skills useful on more than one occasion. He would never admit that. Then after two weeks, he told her he had to move on. He didn't like staying in a place for too long, made him feel trapped and paranoid about the authorities finding him. So he'd gone. In the middle of the night in a small space-hopper.
They'd made a pact though to meet every year just to catch up, swap any useful information see each other. He hadn't liked the idea
"I don't know kid, it's too risky" he'd sighed "you got your own life to look out for, we'd be endangering each other, they've got swarms of electronics in every device that I might possibly use to try and track me down, it would mean death for the both of us"
It had sent shivers down her spine to hear him say that. She knew that death was nothing new to him having brought it upon a few people himself. To her, it was still the scary unmentionable unknown
"And you're scared of that" he'd continued, sensing her shiver
"I don't want to be scared forever" she'd replied at last "we can do it Riddick, we'll be disguised anyway and no one will know"
He'd given in eventually much to her relief, she didn't want to have to explain that she'd miss talking to him and that she enjoyed his company. He didn't go in for emotion too well, he scarcely acknowledged her as a friend even though she knew he counted her as one at his insistence that she'd be as careful as possible and that he'd know if she wasn't. So he'd send her an electronic message through her com (the number of which only he and Iman knew) and they'd meet up before perhaps hanging around for a couple of weeks and then parting for the next year. It was a loose comfortable arrangement and suited them both well. They were survivor partners who didn't need to see each other, kept up with each other through the news bulletins and through Iman sometimes as well. The holy man didn't mind giving one information about the other.
Now Jack was going to see Riddick again. The time seemed to have gone past quickly. She was nineteen now, getting better at her job as outlaw and survivor. She credited that to Riddick though, in the two short weeks they'd spent together, he'd taught her just about everything she needed to know and for that she was grateful. She pulled the goggles on over her head and down to around her neck, letting them rest just above her top's neckline like a peculiar rubber necklace. She went to her tiny bedroom and began packing methodically. After years of moving on and changing location, she'd developed a highly tuned skill at quick essential packing. All she needed fitted into a silver steel case with her small canvas backpack for important items like ID and money. Everything was packed up in under ten minutes.
She went around her small apartment carefully, checking that nothing would give away her identity before cleaning up and making the bed. It had to look like she'd just gone out and would be back soon. Which she probably would be. She slid her shades up onto her head, keeping her hair back and carried the cases into the hall. She locked the door and went downstairs, the cases banging against the walls as she went since the stairwell was so narrow. She knocked on a door at the bottom and a small pudgy man answered, a wide smile on his face
"Jet! You going away again?" he sounded a strange mixture of sad and happy
"Sure am Marcel, here's the cash for last month's rent" she handed him some crumpled bills "feel free to rent when I'm away"
"You gonna be back soon?" Marcel called after her as she walked to the door
"Probably in a few months" she called over her shoulder as she pushed the door open
As soon as she was out, she pulled the shades down over her eyes, keeping a sour expression on her face. She needed to set off by tonight since the trip would take approximately a week. Riddick always timed things impeccably. He must have known where she was through Iman. She turned a corner and reached the launch park.
It was a wonderful sight; all the ships and planes settled on the concrete, waiting for their owners to come so that they could fly again. She gave a wide exaggerated wave to a guy in a small metal booth who nodded at her, letting her know that he'd noticed she was going to launch. Rolling her eyes, she reached her tiny ship. Known as a StarFlight, it was an old model which was reliable and cheap to keep. She's bought it for half of what was normally paid and it had never let her down yet. It was good for getting from galaxy to galaxy. Best of all it was inconspicuous. She unlocked the door, letting the ramp slid down for her and hopped up into it, programming the ramp to back in and door to close.
It always gave her a thrill to get back into it; she loved flying more than anything else. There she was free. She'd learnt how to fly through Riddick, any guides on file for beginners and occasional tips from other flyers at launch parks. She wasn't an expert but she could fly well and that was what mattered. She stowed her case in an over head locker at the back and began checking all the controls and levels. Everything seemed stable and the foot prep machine was stocked up too. She checked her watch; she should start now.
As she began turning things on, her mind wandered to Riddick and the night that he'd flown her and Iman off the planet and to safety. It was the most unexpected thing she'd ever experienced. He was a convicted killer, apparently selfish with a clear agenda to trust no one and to look out for number one. Why should he help anyone? Because Fry had changed him when she'd died for him. That Jack understood. They'd helped him and now he was returning the favour in his own, non-acknowledging way.
"Tell them Riddick's dead" he'd told her as she'd sat next to him in the cockpit "he died somewhere back on that planet"
But in everyone else's minds, Riddick was still alive and killing. He had to continue to survive, more slyly than ever. He had to continue killing. Luckily for Jack, he had no desire to kill her. Which was why she was getting ready to go and see him, it was why she counted him as a friend. Hell he and Iman were the only ones left who didn't want to befriend her for free sex or hand her over the runaway authorities for money since her appearance sometimes suggested her runaway status, no matter her identity.
Her mind snapped back to the ship. Flicking a final switch, she sat down as the ship began to rumble softly, strapping herself in securely. She slowly eased a lever up, starring straight ahead as her fingers went on auto- pilot, her pilot sense taking over as the ship began moving forward. Faster and faster until the city fell away behind her and it was just her and the galaxies. No one tried to catch her and no one tried to fuck her. The only place it happened. With a shake of her head, she pressed a button and sat back, soon she'd see a genuinely friendly face. One who was glad to see her for the right reasons.
There was a loud startling bleep from a bag in the corner. Her head turned sharply at the noise. A message. She quickly hoisted herself out of the pool and moved quickly over to the bag, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind her. She opened her bag and pulled out a small communicator. It was a screen with a row of small buttons below it. It looked like a piece of old flight equipment, hiding the sleek high tech electrics that worked it. She waved a hand over it, allowing the com to register it was her and allow use. The screen switched to a city scene, black smog belched out of a couple tall chimneys. It looked like Tri-Furor, a dirty city run from the underground up on a planet a galaxy or so away. She waited for someone to speak. Then a computerised voice spoke
"Jack, Tri-Furor, next week, ComLink Food Court, 14:00pm"
Then as soon as it had appeared, the picture on screen vanished. Jack smiled and put the com back into her bag. It was time for her to get changed and get out of here before people started arriving. She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked silently out of the room. She went down a dark lit corridor, turning off through a door to an empty changing room. She stopped in front of a metal panel and pressed a button.
"Name please and number" a crisp computer voice issued
"Melinda Clark, 5530" Jack replied
The panel buzzed for a second before swinging open. She put her bag down and stripped out of her one-piece navy blue swimsuit. Being naked in front of anyone else except herself was not an option, having someone eye her up who she didn't love disgusted her. That was why the place was empty. After a quick rub down with a towel, she pulled a bottle out of the space the panel had revealed and shook it. She quickly poured a brown substance into her hands and began rubbing it into her skin, everywhere she could reach at least. When she was out on the streets, she had to disguise herself, it was an art she'd quickly picked up and learnt. It was good fun after a while, morphing from one person into another, revisiting the ones that worked best. This skin darkener would make her look darker than tan, a dramatic difference from her usual paleness. After finishing that, she pulled a spray can out and quickly blitzed herself all over with the thin clear liquid inside of it. It made the skin set quickly, almost instantly in fact.
She looked at herself in the mirror with a smile; her skin looked like she'd been born in it. Perfect. She grabbed another bottle and ran to a basin over the other side of the room, dumping the liquid in her hair as soon as her head was over it. After a vigorous hair dying session, she returned to her panel space with raven black hair. She pulled on a pair of grubby green combat pants and a white vest top, patchy in places, the outfit of a tech fixer. She quickly put everything back into her bag, slipping the com into her pocket before putting on a narrow pair of glasses with black lenses; they were like a thin narrow band over her eyes, a single piece of shiny plastic detailed in silver.
Jet Marrow stared back at her from the mirror. A trim athletic body with womanly curves showing, thick black hair that was cut with no bangs and reached past the nape of her neck, cut close to her head. Her occupation was a com technical fixer. All her aliases had some link to technical work. Jack grinned at her reflection before turning, grabbing her bag and going to the bathroom area. It wasn't safe to go through the front way since people were likely to be starting to come through for their own swims. She hurriedly threw open a huge window and jumped through to the back lot, no one there to notice her. She carefully closed the window and started walking, eager to get home so that she could prepare for her latest flight. It always gave her a thrill to think about it, flying solo was something she'd dreamed of but was never allowed to pursue, her parents never thought it possible. Her parents thought she was dead.
She passed people in the street without giving them a second glance but she made sure she gave the law enforcers a particularly wide berth. The last thing she wanted was to be recognised. She slipped in between everyone, a stony expression on her face and a clear plastic card clipped to her pants pocket identifying her. No one gave her a second glance; she looked like every other worker here; tired, charged with energy and angry. She reached her building quickly, slipping her card in the door before stepping through and racing to catch a lift before it left for her floor. She slipped into a free one and programmed it for floor 29, keying in its maximum speed before closing the doors. In a couple of seconds she was there.
Her door was close to the lift, with another keypad to get in. Inside, she threw her bag down and herself down beside it on the couch. She allowed herself a few seconds to gather her thoughts, for everything to fall into place behind her closed eyes. Then she sat up and began emptying her bag; throwing things haphazardly onto the floor.
"That should do it" she muttered under her breath as she reached the bottom
Then her fingers brushed against something, rubber and plastic, stretchy and hard. Frowning, she closed her hand around it and drew it out to see. She smiled when she saw what it was. Her Riddick goggles. She remembered wearing them on top of her shaved head, over her eyes or around her neck. She could still hear Paris' bemused voice as she walked into the room with her new look for the first time
"She's first in the look-a-like contest"
Johns had been furious, nearly demanding that she take it off immediately. Back then, he'd still thought she was a guy, everyone did. Luckily for her, Fry had told Johns that Jack could wear what he liked. She knew that Fry felt a little responsible for her with Jack being the youngest and Fry being the captain. She'd smiled at Jack reassuringly, even though Jack knew that Fry didn't really like the outfit much herself. Riddick had been silently amused by it, she'd seen it in the way he looked her sideways out of the corners of his eyes and smirked. She wasn't sure if he was flattered by her imitation or smug that it had got under Johns' skin.
She'd forgotten about the goggles, stuffing them into her bag as a sort of talisman. Riddick had been kept out of the authorities clutches for long enough, maybe it would work for her. She'd never taken them out since and sure enough, she'd stayed safe. Some would say it was runaway's luck, she knew the truth. She'd had training from the best. Richard B Riddick.
After landing on Bangor, she hadn't known what to do. There was no one to take her in, no relatives. None that knew about her anyway. Iman had offered to look after her, take her back to his community where the news about his three dead sons had to be broken and mourned. But Riddick had told him that he'd look after her for a couple of weeks, then she could go out on her own. She'd been thrilled with the idea. She liked Iman a lot but staying in a place where religion was central was not her idea of an existence. Not one for a runaway orphan like herself. Riddick had taken her into the heart of the city and shown her the com-boards up about her. They hung in the sky like beacons; claiming either her death or a reward for her capture. She could scarily believe it was her up there; her parents evidently wanted her back. She knew they wouldn't care if it was just a body that appeared instead. Riddick said very little, he wasn't talkative; he just wanted to get on with things. He guided her through the city, showing her how to slip past authority and how to disguise yourself, finding ID cards long lost you could form identities out of. He'd been surprised at her high level knowledge of computers, finding her skills useful on more than one occasion. He would never admit that. Then after two weeks, he told her he had to move on. He didn't like staying in a place for too long, made him feel trapped and paranoid about the authorities finding him. So he'd gone. In the middle of the night in a small space-hopper.
They'd made a pact though to meet every year just to catch up, swap any useful information see each other. He hadn't liked the idea
"I don't know kid, it's too risky" he'd sighed "you got your own life to look out for, we'd be endangering each other, they've got swarms of electronics in every device that I might possibly use to try and track me down, it would mean death for the both of us"
It had sent shivers down her spine to hear him say that. She knew that death was nothing new to him having brought it upon a few people himself. To her, it was still the scary unmentionable unknown
"And you're scared of that" he'd continued, sensing her shiver
"I don't want to be scared forever" she'd replied at last "we can do it Riddick, we'll be disguised anyway and no one will know"
He'd given in eventually much to her relief, she didn't want to have to explain that she'd miss talking to him and that she enjoyed his company. He didn't go in for emotion too well, he scarcely acknowledged her as a friend even though she knew he counted her as one at his insistence that she'd be as careful as possible and that he'd know if she wasn't. So he'd send her an electronic message through her com (the number of which only he and Iman knew) and they'd meet up before perhaps hanging around for a couple of weeks and then parting for the next year. It was a loose comfortable arrangement and suited them both well. They were survivor partners who didn't need to see each other, kept up with each other through the news bulletins and through Iman sometimes as well. The holy man didn't mind giving one information about the other.
Now Jack was going to see Riddick again. The time seemed to have gone past quickly. She was nineteen now, getting better at her job as outlaw and survivor. She credited that to Riddick though, in the two short weeks they'd spent together, he'd taught her just about everything she needed to know and for that she was grateful. She pulled the goggles on over her head and down to around her neck, letting them rest just above her top's neckline like a peculiar rubber necklace. She went to her tiny bedroom and began packing methodically. After years of moving on and changing location, she'd developed a highly tuned skill at quick essential packing. All she needed fitted into a silver steel case with her small canvas backpack for important items like ID and money. Everything was packed up in under ten minutes.
She went around her small apartment carefully, checking that nothing would give away her identity before cleaning up and making the bed. It had to look like she'd just gone out and would be back soon. Which she probably would be. She slid her shades up onto her head, keeping her hair back and carried the cases into the hall. She locked the door and went downstairs, the cases banging against the walls as she went since the stairwell was so narrow. She knocked on a door at the bottom and a small pudgy man answered, a wide smile on his face
"Jet! You going away again?" he sounded a strange mixture of sad and happy
"Sure am Marcel, here's the cash for last month's rent" she handed him some crumpled bills "feel free to rent when I'm away"
"You gonna be back soon?" Marcel called after her as she walked to the door
"Probably in a few months" she called over her shoulder as she pushed the door open
As soon as she was out, she pulled the shades down over her eyes, keeping a sour expression on her face. She needed to set off by tonight since the trip would take approximately a week. Riddick always timed things impeccably. He must have known where she was through Iman. She turned a corner and reached the launch park.
It was a wonderful sight; all the ships and planes settled on the concrete, waiting for their owners to come so that they could fly again. She gave a wide exaggerated wave to a guy in a small metal booth who nodded at her, letting her know that he'd noticed she was going to launch. Rolling her eyes, she reached her tiny ship. Known as a StarFlight, it was an old model which was reliable and cheap to keep. She's bought it for half of what was normally paid and it had never let her down yet. It was good for getting from galaxy to galaxy. Best of all it was inconspicuous. She unlocked the door, letting the ramp slid down for her and hopped up into it, programming the ramp to back in and door to close.
It always gave her a thrill to get back into it; she loved flying more than anything else. There she was free. She'd learnt how to fly through Riddick, any guides on file for beginners and occasional tips from other flyers at launch parks. She wasn't an expert but she could fly well and that was what mattered. She stowed her case in an over head locker at the back and began checking all the controls and levels. Everything seemed stable and the foot prep machine was stocked up too. She checked her watch; she should start now.
As she began turning things on, her mind wandered to Riddick and the night that he'd flown her and Iman off the planet and to safety. It was the most unexpected thing she'd ever experienced. He was a convicted killer, apparently selfish with a clear agenda to trust no one and to look out for number one. Why should he help anyone? Because Fry had changed him when she'd died for him. That Jack understood. They'd helped him and now he was returning the favour in his own, non-acknowledging way.
"Tell them Riddick's dead" he'd told her as she'd sat next to him in the cockpit "he died somewhere back on that planet"
But in everyone else's minds, Riddick was still alive and killing. He had to continue to survive, more slyly than ever. He had to continue killing. Luckily for Jack, he had no desire to kill her. Which was why she was getting ready to go and see him, it was why she counted him as a friend. Hell he and Iman were the only ones left who didn't want to befriend her for free sex or hand her over the runaway authorities for money since her appearance sometimes suggested her runaway status, no matter her identity.
Her mind snapped back to the ship. Flicking a final switch, she sat down as the ship began to rumble softly, strapping herself in securely. She slowly eased a lever up, starring straight ahead as her fingers went on auto- pilot, her pilot sense taking over as the ship began moving forward. Faster and faster until the city fell away behind her and it was just her and the galaxies. No one tried to catch her and no one tried to fuck her. The only place it happened. With a shake of her head, she pressed a button and sat back, soon she'd see a genuinely friendly face. One who was glad to see her for the right reasons.