come_sailaway | April Open - Harvey Comes Out To Play

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April Open - Harvey Comes Out To Play

Who: Crichton + Harvey & Open!
What: After getting a package from Sundries, Crichton is acting a little strange. He's out late at night, acting off character for 'some reason' :]
When: First week of April before the event start.
Where: Various places around the ship
Warnings: Descriptions of gore & brain implants. Harvey is involuntarily taking over Crichton's body, he's also not against getting violent if necessary. Will warn in the headers for anything specific below.

They think I'm crazy but they don't know the feeling:
For some reason, after picking up these packages from the Sundries, he felt compelled to wait until he was alone to open them. He's found a secluded corner in the back of the library to do so now. Boy, is he glad that he is alone when opening the first box reveals a pallid mask identical in every way to the one John Doe on the ship routinely wears.

"Great, what are we forming some kind of fan club together?" he scoffs, setting it aside. Later, he might discover this mask has some special properties. If someone tries the thing on, they'll have quite a startling revelation--that Crichton isn't as alone as he seems.

The next box contains something even worse. Crichton gasps when he opens it. The chip. The neural chip (link is kinda gross, fyi) that Scorpius implanted in his brain. The chip that contained Harvey. How can it be here?!

His stomach roils and he has to close his eyes so he won't continue to stare sickly down at that tangle of wires and chunk of his own brain sitting there in that vial. But, once he's breathed through the first wave of nausea, and opens his eyes again, he's horrified to find the vial empty. What?! What?!

He grabs the empty vial from the box, shakes it like he's hoping the chip is just invisible somehow, hoping he will hear it rattle inside the tube. Nothing. It's gone. It's... gone?

Cold sweat soaks into his shirt as, from somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears horribly familiar laughter. Cold, wicked laughter.

I cannot stop this sickness taking over me
The timing of this could not be better. What luck! Arthur and Crichton are back to sleeping in separate beds--which means Arthur won't be as likely to notice if Crichton leaves his in the middle of the night. He started slow. Getting up and walking around the room, simply reacquainting himself with how a human body moves. This human's strength is so limited; it's frustrating. But, from here, he escalates to rifling through their things. Any time Arthur seems to stir, he mimics Crichton's voice, telling his roommate not to worry. Insomnia isn't really unusual for either of them, is it? No, of course not.

Now is the true test. He pulls on Crichton's clothes and slips out of the shared cabin. It's after midnight. He's purposefully avoiding running into anyone he--or, should he says Crichton?-- knows. His first destination is in the Library. He's snooping through the shelves, but there's nothing besides fiction on offer. It won't help him further his agenda. He does, however, know a few people who might be able to. That's going to be trickier.

He doesn't come home to the cabin that night. Instead, he goes to the buffet first thing. He has to quell these hunger pains if he wants to be able to concentrate. Humans... such pathetic creatures. He's doing his best to impersonate Crichton's nauseating friendliness. He has to wave and smile at anyone familiar while dreading if any of them come over for a longer chat. And so it will go for the next few days. He vaguely keeps up with Crichton's loose schedule, saying hello to anyone who comes by. But, at ever opportunity, he will attempt to cut the conversation short.

Except for conversations with one individual in particular...

[Closed to Ari]
He sends Lieutenant Tayrey a text with Crichton's phone:

I've been giving it some thought. I think wormholes might be the only way to escape. All of these memory cracks gave me an idea. Where can I meet you? It needs to be somewhere secure. Bring your textbooks.

I need your help, I can't fight this forever
Something's wrong. Every day, Crichton wakes up feeling more tired than when he went to bed. How long has it been? A week? Maybe? He feels so groggy, the days are running together. He's losing time. He has been ever since--

What? What was he thinking just now? Damn, he lost it. Frell. He's so tired. Maybe he should just go back to sleep for a little longer. No. No, he'd better not.

And yet, as the days wear on, he looks more and more like a zombie. There's no pep in his step, the dark circles under his eyes getting worse and worse, and he's doubled his caffeine intake. That alone should be worrying him. But, every time he thinks maybe he should call a doctor about it... he just doesn't. He'd hate to worry them over nothing. It's just stress. That's all. It will pass. He'll go back and take another nap. That will help. He'll be fine.

Everything is fine.

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I assume you mean your cabin? Yes. That's fine. I'll be right there.

And, sure enough, about five minutes later she will hear a knock on the door.

No, Commander Crichton. I'm not inviting you into my cabin. I'm inviting you into my office.
Same location. 😉

She expects him to understand that this is her means of accounting for rules about public and private spaces in a way that makes her life here easier - without taking herself too seriously either. When he arrives, she's quick to let him in. There's a folding screen blocking off her bed and stores of food, and the rest of the cabin is as tidy as always, all the surfaces clear save for her slate computer and half a mug of coffee. The walls, meanwhile, are nearly papered with technical drawings, star charts, and assorted print-outs.

'Come in! It's good to see you.' And then, when she's shut the door firmly, and locked it behind him. 'I can't tell you how glad I am that you've changed your mind about this.'

If there's one thing Harvey detests more than these primitive messages themselves, it's those emoji. Crichton overuses them to the most annoying degree. But he puts that annoyance from his mind now and does his best to enact the friendly persona of his host. Ari is one of his closer confidants, after all.

He steps in and looks around the room, casually taking in all those charts plastered to the wall. "You've been busy, I see."

He smiles; it's as warm of an expression as he can fake. That's made easier by the fact that he is also very eager to discuss this topic. "I know I was being stubborn before, but I had my reasons. After what's been happening with these memory cracks, however, I feel like I don't have much choice."

Emojis aren't natural to Ari. She has learnt them mostly from Klaus, not that it makes much of a difference here.

She smiles as he looks at her charts. 'I have to be,' she says. 'I can't bear not doing a anything at all, and these remind me of home.' The charts do indeed depict all the stars of her own sector, although they'll be alien to both Crichton and Harvey.

She unzips a wall compartment and takes out a couple of her plastic, ring-bound textbooks. 'You always have a choice,' she tells him seriously. 'I know what you've been through; I'm not going to pressure you in any way. Besides, I'm not stuck where I was before. I've moved past it.' She's a very clever young lieutenant, after all. She has advanced her study of wormholes even without Crichton's help.

These charts are alien, but he is still making note of them in case he ever has reason to recognize them later.

"I know. But the other options aren't something I'm willing to accept anymore..." Even if Crichton is.

"Oh? I should have known you wouldn't stop pushing. Where are you at now?"

She nods, solemnly. 'The current situation is completely unacceptable. You know I wouldn't hesitate to die for my duty if that's what was needed, but that's not what this is. This is the prospect of unending torture if we don't act.'

Picking a book out of the small stack, she starts flicking through the pages. 'I found another explanation of the mathematics I was struggling with. It makes more intuitive sense now. After that, I was able to move on swiftly. To here.' She jabs a finger at another page covered in complex equations.

Ari begins to explain exactly what they are and what they mean for wormhole travel, theoretically. She's expecting that much of it won't be new to him, so he'll follow it easily enough.

"And not only that," he answers, affecting Crichton's patented concerned tone, "but it's stealing away our potential. You had goals, a career on the rise. You deserve to get back to that. I need to get back to my crew, and back to Earth. I'm tired of waiting."

He glances through what she's showing him. Thanks to Crichton's knowledge, he understands it all just fine.

"The theory is sound. But, in the application, I've run into problems before. These wormholes, if they aren't perfectly stable, emit deadly doses of radiation. We need shielding from that or we won't survive the trip. We can't solve that with theory alone."

Ari thinks about this carefully.

'I've got higher than baseline radiation tolerance, but it's not something I'd want to rely on without approval from my geneticists.' Who are, obviously, not here.

'Shielding is a practical problem and one it'll be difficult to work on here. Lack of materials, lack of opportunity to test. I wonder if it'd be easier to work on ensuring the stability of the wormholes, so that the radiation doesn't become an issue. That might be solved with theory. Citizen Salazar might be able to help.'

"That's good for you, but the rest of us don't have that going for us." The more Harvey hears about this woman the more he is reminded of a peacekeeper. Maybe she can be of some use to him long-term.

"I don't mind asking for his help, however, that part is where my special talent might come in handy. I can sense wormholes. I can tell when they are about to open up, and I can tell the difference between a stable and unstable one."

'You can sense wormholes?' Predictably, she has about half a dozen questions based on that alone. Was that the great secret he was protecting? 'That's... certainly an unusual talent.' She smiles. This is more hope than she's had in a long time.

'How many have you sensed since your arrival here, and were any stable? The obvious problem is that we can't direct them as we might be able to direct one that we created, but maybe that doesn't matter so much. Stranded spacers can't be picky about outpost stations, so we get out of here first, and worry about our true destinations after?'

"I can. Don't know how to explain it other than it's like I can feel it in my mind." Yes, he can see her getting reeled in with that smile. A shame he's going to have to disappoint her now.

"None. Not one, stable or otherwise. That's why I didn't really think it was worth looking into at first. Wherever this place is, it's either outside the range of wormholes, or that forcefield that keeps us all in keeps me from sensing them out there."

Oh, she is quite bitterly disappointed, but to her credit, Ari doesn't show it. You don't make someone feel bad when they're doing the right thing, sharing their talents. The smile is gone, but that's not surprising; Ari's focused now, all business.

'In any normal circumstance I'd say disrupt the forcefield, but-' another little shake of her head. 'This is a nightmare ship. No wires to pull. It's fine. We can - we can learn how to create wormholes, they'll bypass whatever is keeping us here, and your skill will let us know when we have one stable enough to allow travel.'

She makes it all sound so simple. The best scientists in the field back in her sector hadn't succeeded in this - but then they hadn't had nearly as much motivation as she and her friends do.'

Ah, here it is. This is the ticket he's been waiting to punch. "I have the knowledge of how to create one locked up in my head. I just can't crack it yet. But, maybe with your help, I can finally break through."

'Locked in your head?' That gets him an uncertain look, because she's not entirely sure what he can mean. If it's some kind of metaphor, it's beyond her to interpret without more guidance. If it's literal? She's probably not the person he needs to be asking.

'You know that I'll help, but I'm not sure what exactly it is that I can do.'

"Yes. I know that sounds strange. I met a race of aliens out there who have the secrets to wormhole technology, but they don't trust just anyone with it. I did them a favor, and in return they implanted the knowledge deep in my subconscious." He doesn't really have to fake the frustration showing on his face now. Curse those Ancients. If he could get his hands on one...

"They said it would help guide me while I discovered this for myself. It was meant to be a nudge, nothing more. And I quote 'If you're not smart enough to discover it on your own, you're not smart enough to handle it wisely.' So, that's what you can help me with--figuring it out. We'll prove we are capable of handling it."

'That must have been intensely frustrating.' He had been trying to get home. Quite aside from her deep aversion to the idea of implanting anything in a person's subconscious mind, to know that the information was there but out of reach would have been maddening.

The realisation comes upon her suddenly that he couldn't have given up the information, even if he wanted to. Not to save her from this ship, and not to save himself from torture. Tayrey feels faintly queasy at the thought.

'Of course I'll help. You're the one with the qualifications, but I'll catch up, as fast as I'm able. Put those Cardalek enhancements to good use.' There's a time and place for modesty, and this is emphatically not it. Young Tradeline officers might not have the academic education of Cardalek scientists, but they do understand necessity. She doesn't doubt herself. 'It's smart to realise that you don't have to figure it all out alone.'

"You have no idea." Harvey will allow himself to vent a little. It will sell this.

"It's all right there. It's so close I can almost taste it. I've been working on it, small parts at a time, trying to unravel it. But the entire equation eludes me still. You're one of the brightest minds here. If anyone can help me do it, you can. I do wonder, could the way your L-space travel works hold some answers? It's something I haven't tried yet."

Her brow creases as she considers it. 'Because of my people's history, the Lorentzen equations are one of the few things I'm not allowed to share. Not with anyone out-of-sector. They're what led us to develop L-space travel. But L-space isn't wormholes, it's like your Moya's starburst, isn't it? Just more directed. A wormhole bridges two regions of spacetime in a much more immediate way.'

Yet she doesn't want him to think she'd refuse to help. It's not that. 'If you show me what you have, if any parts of the equation looks familiar to me, that'll make it easier for me to develop your work.' Without telling him that it came from Lorentzen, and revealing century-old secrets. 'We can do this, Crichton. If we work together we'll crack it, and we'll both get to where we want to go.'

"Yes, it is. But Leviathans cannot direct their travel in it at all, so it can't be exactly the same. I'm just curious where the differences lie." Much as he would like to get his hands on that proprietary information, he knows Crichton wouldn't push. He'll have to be patient and take the hints she gives him.

"That sounds like an acceptable method to me. I have no doubt we can do this. But, there is something you need to know about wormholes if you haven't deduced it already. They don't travel only through space. They travel through time. You have to know how to navigate through both."

'I've been considering that. Starbursts only last a matter of minutes, while a trained astrogator - well, they make us transition back into ordinary space after a half-shift, but that's just policy. An artificial limit because of the concentration it requires. Theoretically a ship could stay in indefinitely. We'd have to talk distances, but it's possible a Leviathan travels much faster through L-space than a ship with one of our engines does. So fast that determining a course is impossible.'

She nods when he mentions time travel. Yes, that extra dimension complicated the mathematics, but it was more than only that. 'Have you spoken to Oda about it? He has some knowledge of that sort of time travel, and what it means for people, specifically. You have to take precautions to avoid paradoxes, but he thinks it's possible to return me to my ship on the very day that I left. No complications. No unexplained absence to derail my career.' It's no secret that she's very loyal to the man, but this suggestion is a considered one. His experience makes his ideas trustworthy in her eyes.

"Yes, but that limit is there to keep you all from losing your grip on reality, right? I was only there for a short while and it didn't agree with me that well." That's true, actually. Harvey faired just as badly during that as Crichton did.

"It is possible. And the lack of plotted direction is a feature of the move more than a defect. It makes a leviathan impossible to track." Much to Scorpius's chagrin.

Harvey nods too. "He did tell me a little about it already. Paradoxes will be our biggest concern. In theory, returning to the exact moment we left might be enough to prevent it. But that level of precision is going to be hard to calculate. Not unless I can crack more of the knowledge I have hidden in my head. The Ancients who gave me this knowledge have traveled through wormholes, so they have to know how to avoid it."

'Losing our grip on reality?' She smiles and shakes her head. 'No. What you experienced was probably typical for a first trip, but our training means that we learn to resolve L-space. To mentally filter out the distortions, or adjust to them. That's the reason the Tradelines takes on officer candidates from age twelve - because the younger you are, the more likely you are to adapt properly. The limit is just-' she waves a hand '-because flying that long without a break can be tough, especially through more dangerous regions of L-space where you need to be constantly alert and making adjustments. It's tiring.' They could do more, in an emergency, but someone had set on six hours as the normal limit, so that's how it stayed.

What he says next is very encouraging. 'You're right. That your Ancients used wormholes for travel proves that it's possible. It can be done, accurately and safely. We just have to find the way.' She pauses, looks over at him again. 'So do you have any idea how to reveal the hidden knowledge? Do you think that if we just... work on the calculations together, it'll trigger something when we get close?'

"Noted. That's the same reason they give pilots flight hour restrictions on my Earth too. Tired pilots make mistakes." Hm. Given long enough, Harvey believes he'd have the mental fortitude to adjust to L-space just as she says she can. But it would still be better to keep Ari on his side in the event he needs her to fly through it.

"Yes. So far, that's been the best method I've found. A while back, I was working closely with a scientist who was on the cutting edge of wormhole technology. Through our sessions, I started to get more and more pieces of the equations. It was like some part of me could intuit which way was the right path forward. The more he pushed me, the more I unlocked. I think you could give me that push."

'It's sensible,' she says, not too surprised by the similarity. 'I think if I'd been born an Earther, I'd still have been a pilot. That was my story when I visited Earth a couple of times through the rifts, anyway.' With varying degrees of success, even if she knew enough about Earthers that she claimed to be older than she was.

He'd been working with a scientist? This is not only new information, it's difficult to integrate with what she already knows of the situation. He's working with her on this as a last resort; before he'd been unwilling, and back home he'd endured horrific torture rather than reveal what he knew.

Maybe he'd seen this scientist as far more trustworthy than Ari herself. That's one explanation, although she doesn't like it. She decides it doesn't matter. Whatever the reasoning, she's getting what she wants now. But she needs to be careful. 'I think we'll work well together,' she says, 'and I can push. I will. But if it's more than you're comfortable with, ever, you've got to tell me, so I can be more patient.'

"And a damn good pilot, too." Never any harm in fluffing an dego, is there? He wants her to feel special. He wants her to feel proud to help him.

"I think we already make a good team. And, don't you worry, I'll tell you. I've got no problem letting you know."

sure!

astrogator - 2023-05-08 19:13 (UTC) - Expand

thanks!

ss_buttcrack - 2023-05-09 02:43 (UTC) - Expand

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April Open - Harvey Comes Out To Play

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might be a good place to start to wrap

sure!

thanks!