Three - A Long, Long Time…

Beka was on him in a second, pulling him away from the startled girl. He was obviously weak and he wobbled on his feet, staying upright only because of Beka's grip. 'Harper' spun round in her grasp at her words and touch. She gasped a little at the disturbingly familiar smile that flashed onto his face.

He gazed at her with enormous appreciation for a moment. "Boss!" He cried and scooped her up in his arms and spun her around. She was so surprised she let him. He put her down before she could gather her wits and tell him too.

"What the hell are you doing?" Beka demanded. "And who are you?"

The man pulled back, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Harper. Seamus Harper."

Trance stared at him, even more colour leeching from her face. She hadn't uttered a word, had barely moved, almost in a kind of shock. Beka didn't blame her.

"I've known Harper since he was a skinny kid," Beka said, "he still is a skinny kid and you…You're no kid."

Something dark and ugly crossed his face and Beka shivered. "Yeah," he murmured, "but ya know I'm me?"

The way he moved…. The way he spoke… That smile… And the DNA tests… Beka looked away, angry at the wave of seemly irrational fear she felt. "Yes."

He relaxed a little and let out a breath.

"Dylan?" He asked, "Rev? Tyr? You're all here?" His eyes became hopeful, "Lauren?"

Their blank expressions gave him their answer to that last name and his disappointment was tangible. But Beka sensed he wasn't really surprised by the news. Who, she wondered, was Lauren?

"Man, I never thought I'd see you guys again."

"What do you mean?"

That sobered him, and a look Beka had rarely seen on him creased his features. Something cold and bitter slipped over his face, filling his eyes. It was ugly…and so was the tone of his voice when he spoke. "I need to talk to Dylan."

Rommie's holoform fizzled into being at Hunt's side and the captain turned in the Slipstream chair to face her. Her eyes seemed to be looking inwards, as if she were concentrating on another part of the ship.

"Dylan we have a problem."

And to confirm it, Beka's voice sounded from the comm, "Dylan, you'd better get down to the med deck. There's some…something you should see."

He looked at Rommie, "I hope that's the same problem."

"Yes."

"Good." And he got out of the chair. He got half way to the door when Rommie spoke again.

"I am receiving a transmission. The Tellan transport is requesting permission to dock."

The captain sighed.

The little craft had taken quite a beating. If the Andromeda hadn't found her when she did, it would have been torn to pieces in the ravages of the Stream. Tyr knelt beside the pod and peered into its tiny compartment. It was cramped, even for someone of Harper's slight build and Tyr had to bend uncomfortably to lean in. The interior was padded, offering the occupant some protection in a landfall. The only controls were a small handset; pathetically inadequate for the job it was designed for. Tyr picked it up, the circuits were fused and it smelt badly of ozone; it's components fried into one blackened melted mess. It was unlikely that they would be able to eke any answers from it. But Harper, their Harper, was talented, and he was faced with his own extinction, that was a powerful motivator…even for a human.

Rev and Rommie looked down, hopeful that he had discovered something of use. They had been trying to decipher the words on the pod, but the surface was so scored and corroded that only Rommie was able to recognise the outlines of letters. She stood beside Rev, her eyes scanning the badly damaged words. She was having a hard time even recognising the characters, let alone reading it, and as for translating it…that would take time.

He put the control to one side, "I doubt that it will give answers." He told them quietly and he lent forward again to check the inside, taking care to watch for booby traps and security devices. There wasn't much in the tiny compartment. There were only two items he could find, a blanket and a toolbox. He pulled them out and lay them on the deck of the cargo bay, knowing the others were watching.

Tyr checked the lock on the toolbox for any security device. There didn't appear to be any. In truth, he hadn't expected there to be, but you had to be certain. Survival depended on it.

He opened it and sorted through the few contents. There were a number of tools, of course; their usage he couldn't identify, but he trusted his instincts when they told him they were not weapons. A silver bracelet, engraved with strange alien script, clattered to the deck. Tyr picked it up. He couldn't read the writing and Rev's headshake informed him that the Magog to had no idea what it said. It did not appear to have any monetary value and he tossed it back into the pod.

Then he took the last item from the toolbox. He stared at it and his eyes fell upon the corner. "I believe I have something."

In the end, Dylan had sent Rommie, in android form, to meet the transport while he headed down to medical. He hated the impression that would leave with their hosts, but it couldn't be helped. He guessed Trance and Beka had found something conclusive on Harper's body and at the moment that took priority.

Harper's body…

It didn't seem real. A Harper from the future, the near future if he were only 27. What had happened to him to send him back here? What had killed him? And how the hell was he going to explain this to his chief engineer. How do you go about telling a boy he has only four more years to live?

He walked into the medical room and froze. The familiar form of Harper was standing with Beka. He'd hoped to keep Harper from discovering about his doppelganger until they had some answers.

He felt ice run down his back when he realised Harper was staring at him in amazement then he rushed forward. "Dylan!"

And that was when his conscious mind noticed that his blonde hair was longer, hanging down over his eyes. He was the future Harper.

The dead Harper…

Dylan tensed, took a deep breath, "you gotta lot of explaining to do."

"Yeah, like how you came back from the dead for a start," added Beka. "I thought only the purple one did that." To her surprise, she saw Trance pale even more at that. But then the comm sounded and that took up her attention.

"Dylan, we found-" Tyr began.

"I'll come up there." Dylan interrupted; he didn't want the no-longer-dead future Harper to hear whatever it was that Tyr was about to say. He didn't understand what was going on, but he knew two things.

He knew he hated it.

And he didn't trust this Harper.

"Trance," Dylan said, "give Harper a full physical, make sure he's OK. Harper…"

The young man smiled slightly but Dylan noticed it didn't touch his eyes.

Dylan held out his hand, "welcome back."

Harper took his hand in the age-old greeting and shook, "thanks Boss."

Dylan entered the bay where Tyr and Rev were checking over the pod. They looked as tense as he felt. Whatever they had for him wasn't good.

But what the hell, it couldn't beat the news he had for them.

Tyr was holding a data transparency, the kind used for reading text and schematics. "This was in the pod." He said and handed it to Dylan.

Dylan glanced at the screen and scrolled down the words, "it's an old Earth novel, Huckleberry Finn. It's a good book."

"Look at the date this translation was published."

Dylan heard his own sharp intake of breath when he read it. "That's impossible."

"Is it? He travelled back to our time."

"Dylan," Rev said calmly, "after seeing that I ran a chrono-spacial scan on the carbon scoring."

"Biologically this Harper is 27 so that should show a ratio of around four years from now." Dylan replied; he wondered if they noticed the 'is' rather than a 'was.'

"More like four hundred." Tyr murmured.

Rev held out the scanner. "According to this, he, or at least the pod, is from 478 years from now."