Beka was lying in her bed looking up at the ceiling trying to sort through the events of her day. Her eyes dropped to her door as it slowly opened then closed behind her late night visitor. She found herself sighing in disappointment.
"Your room in down the hall," Beka said flatly as he approached her bedside.
"So is my son," Tyr replied as he sat on the edge of her bed.
"Tyr," Beka looked back at the ceiling and let out a breath of exasperation.
"Beka," Tyr mimicked the sound and looked down at her. "My son is at a difficult point in his life. He has urges, desires of any twenty-two year old male. He has the future of the Nietzschean people on his shoulders. He misinterprets infatuation and lust with love. I would greatly appreciate it if you would not encourage him while we are stuck here."
"He contacted me the first time. I didn't know he existed in the universe. You brought him here. I haven't done anything to encourage him," Beka shook her head as her gaze fell on Tyr. "I haven't seen either of you in three months. You give me too much credit."
"You gave my credit to Tamerlane," Tyr remarked. Beka smirked.
"You do realize why my son is here," Tyr asked after a moment of silence.
"Because you are losing control of him," Beka replied as she sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. "And it scares you."
"Keeping him hidden away on the planet has worked up until now. It has kept him safe from those who would look to harm him, use him," Beka mused. "However, he is Nietzschean and when he begins to exert his will … and you know it will happen in the future … you will either need to fall in line or risk alienating the very person you have spent the last twenty years trying to influence and protect."
"It is a very fine line you will walk Tyr Anasazi," Beka smiled faintly. "A very difficult line for a strong Nietzschean male with universal domination dreams such as your own."
"Tamerlane is to unite the prides," Tyr began.
"Do Nietzscheans really believe in that fairy tale?" Beka quirked an eyebrow. She had never understood how such a pragmatic people could believe in a prophetic savior of the Nietzschean people.
"Enough," Tyr nodded. "And is it really a fairy tale when it has happened?"
"Your son is going to have a very difficult time … when he introduces himself to the universe," Beka stretched slightly before settling back on her pillow. She regarded Tyr as the past came flying back. "That crap you pulled before, you …damaged the dream Tyr. After claiming the title of Progenitor for yourself … and being shown a fake … Nietzscheans will have a difficult time … accepting Tamerlane. He will be a pin cushion for the prides. No one will believe without concrete triple checked proof. No one will just fall in line like they did before. You used the fairytale and nearly destroyed the Nietzschean race."
"Only the inferior ones," Tyr began. Beka sighed in exasperation when Tyr started to defend his actions from the past. He stopped and shook his head slowly. "He truly is."
"I know he probably is," Beka looked over at Tyr. "I know there was a confirmed in depth test of samples on Deserato Drift that Drago's reincarnation had been born. I know that is what prompted the Genite massacres of the prides that nearly killed your son and killed hundreds of thousands of others. I know that is why … among other more personal reasons … you tried to destroy Enga's Redoubt. They wanted to control and use the dream. I am no fool Tyr. I know a child was born, a child born about the same time Tamerlane would have been born. So it is very easy for me to believe that your son is the reincarnation of Drago. It really means nothing to me … personally. But it does mean something to me."
"What does it mean to you Beka Valentine?" Tyr smiled. She truly had no idea.
"It means there is one Nietzschean …," Beka sat up again and gazed into Tyr eyes. She raised her finger between them. Her bright blue eyes seemed even brighter, alive with possibilities. "One glorious Nietzschean male with the power to unite the prides and bend the entire universe to his will. Have you any idea how … powerful … your son could be?"
Tyr's eyes widened and the smile slipped from his lips as he gazed into her eyes. There was something in them that Tyr had never seen before and he couldn't quite fathom it from her.
"The only unknown is how he will use that power," Beka leaned closer to him. Her intense gaze seemed to twinkle as she gazed into Tyr's. Tyr knew then that Beka fully understood what the future could hold for his son and the Nietzschean Empire that would result. He found himself concerned as he gazed into her eyes.
"Who will … guide him … influence him … who will shape him … that is the real question Tyr." Beka's words were firmly and slowly delivered. "Whoever has your son's ear will help shape the future of the Nietzschean race. That is what concerns you Tyr Anasazi. Until now he has had no one but you. Soon he will have hundreds or thousands begging to be heard, pleading to have their thoughts entertained. What will he do? Where will he turn? Who will he allow in the deepest darkest hours of night to be his partner … his confidante … his muse? Who will he trust implicitly – with his life? How great will he be?"
The two stared at each other for a moment.
"This is what it means to me," Beka leaned back slightly. She could see the trepidation in Tyr's gaze.
"Then you understand why … his fascination … with you can do nothing but … hinder his development," Tyr murmured as a hard stare raked over her. "Fix it Beka."
"What am I supposed to do?" Beka leaned away from Tyr. She shrugged slightly. "You know Nietzschean males … how is a mere Human woman supposed to have any control over a Nietzschean male."
"Where there is hope," Tyr replied.
"Hope?" Beka scoffed. "I have done nothing to your son. Your son sought me out because of some idealized notion he had developed … due to your … guidance. Your son is completely aware of who I am, my Humanity … my weaknesses and frailties. There is nothing I can do. You need to fix your own problem Tyr Anasazi."
"Reject him," Tyr replied. "Utterly and completely. Let him know there is no hope and he will move past this phase."
"Not a problem," Beka shrugged. "If nothing else, I know how to reject a man. I have been doing it for nearly thirty years."
"Good night," Tyr leaned and pressed a kiss against her forehead. "Sleep well."
"Night," Beka waited for Tyr to leave before flopping back against her pillow with a long sigh. Now what was she going to do.