"Trance, what happened?" Harper asked when he entered the med deck. Trance
stopped checking
Chloe's lifesigns and went over to him. Her eyes were filled with sadness.
With her body she blocked his view of her. Harper frowned and wanted to
push past her, but she lightly put her hand on his arm.
"I have to talk to you first," she said and he nodded reluctantly. He
didn't believe there was anything new
she could tell him. After he had noticed the first signs, he had started to
watch her closely. He
had listened to her coughing in the nights. He had seen the pain in her
eyes when she had to
make sudden movements. He had held her hair back when she threw up. He had
even seen
her spit blood once. There was hardly anything new Trance could tell him.
"Her lungs are infected." Trance told him. "I don't know what to do about
it. There is no
information in Rommie's databank."
Harper nodded again. Sure there wasn't. Who would bother to give money to
do research on
some mysterious illness only mudfeet could get?
"And the infection in her uterus isn't helping either," Trance said. Harper
was stunned. He
didn't know about that one.
"Why is her uterus infected?"
"I think she gave birth to a child." Trance searched his eyes but she got
nothing but a blank
stare. He ran a hand through his hair as if he was making up his mind about
what to do now.
"Okay, Trance, could you leave me alone with her for awhile?" He asked.
Trance gave him a warning look. "She's weak, Harper."
Then she left the room and Harper sat down beside Chloe. He took her small
hand in his.
"Hey, Chloe."
"Hey, Harper." She smiled weakly at him. "We never get far enough away,
don't we?"
No, they'd never get away from being mudfeet. Harper knew on his own that
their pasts were
always following. If it wasn't ghosts or demons, it was several illnesses
which never let you
forget were you came from. But he didn't want to discuss that right now.
He closed his eyes to prepare himself for the question he was going to ask.
"Were you pregnant, Chloe?" She turned away from him, hoping he'd forget his question or at least go away. "Were you pregnant?" He repeated. "Yeah," she mumbled, not looking at him. Her fingers absentmindly tore at the frayed edges of her blanket. "By whom?" He asked, forcing his voice above a whisper. He could count the time he forced her to speak to him on one hand. But this was something he just had to know. Something nagged at him from the back of his mind that he already knew the answer, but he clutched that one little strand of hope that he was wrong. She remained silent before she turned around to face him. There was no anger in her eyes. Only sadness. Whether she was feeling sorry for herself or for Harper, he couldn't tell. "By you." She whispered. He blinked. Deep down, he knew he should't be surprised, but it still hit him hard. "Oh my God," he breathed, and let her hand go. Her hand fell limply onto the blanket He swallowed hard and fought to regain his voice. He had to ask her something else. Again he knew deep down that he knew the answer, but he asked anyway. Tormenting themselves was something all mudfeet were born to do. "Where is our child now?" His whisper was barely audible but Chloe had heard him. "She's dead. She didn't make it to her second birthday." Her voice was husky. He got up and paced between her bed and the wall. "How?" The word sounded empty. Like he was asking her how some stupid machine part worked. Not like he was asking her how their child had died. "The same as every mudfoot child; malnutrition, weak immune system." Her voice was empty and carefully void of all emotions. He had taught her that. He had taught her how to keep the blank stare on her face and how to bury every emotion deep inside. The dull ache in his heart threatened to engulf him and he furiously blinked back tears. Instead of sucumbing to despair, he did what he had learned long ago to do. He lashed out in anger. "Fuck you, Chloe," he cried out. "She could have made it if you had stayed onboard the Maru. But no, you had to take off to some backwater planet and kill our child just because you were afraid." She sat up, her eyes flashing and her whole body shaking with rage. "Fuck you, Seamus Zelazny Harper, you have no idea what it is like. You sleep wall to wall with a magog and a Nietzschean. And just because you gave in to the luxury of forgetting all your fears, you still have no right to judge me. At least I didn't betray my folks and myself by forgetting where I come from." They looked at each other in silent shock and anger and despair. Chloe's last words had hurt. Really hurt. She bit her lip and her anger faded as she looked like she was about to apologize or take back those words, but Harper didn't want to let it go yet. He had needed to find a reason to be angry, and now he had found it. "I didn't forget nothing," he hissed and stormed out of med deck, the doors hissing shut behind him. He went right to his quarters and started to work on one of his projects. He didn't know what else to do. Without him noticing, Tyr entered the room. "Hello, little man." He said, his voice soft for the first time. "Tyr." Harper answered not even bothering to look up. "I heard she was your mate." Tyr stated and leaned against a wall. There wasn't much room in Harpers quarter. Too many clothes, too many tools and unrecognizable parts were lying around. "I don't want to listen to your Nietzchean analogies about family." "My survival depends on your mood." Tyr said simply. Harper gave a short, sharp laugh. "I work better when I'm angry." "Okay, so be angry." Tyr said, not moving from his position. "What?" Harper turned around to him. He held the nanowelder like a weapon in his hand. "You think I'm wrong?" "I never said that." "Then what did you say, Tyr?" his voice was sharp. Tyr smiled. He didn't know exactly why. Maybe it was because he could play Harper like a tune or because Harper trusted him enough to let himself be played like a tune. "I suppose she would have been the mother of your child", Tyr stated. "She was the mother of my child." "Yes, the three of you would have been family. But you never got to know your daughter and now Chloe is everything that's left of your possible family." Harper ran a hand though his spiky hair. "And if you were me, Tyr? If your child would have died of something you could probably have prevented from happening, what would you do?" Tyr shook his head, dismissing the subject "I'm Nietzchean." Harper turned around to his project, slamming the nanowelder onto the table. "Yeah, I forgot, you got special rights." "No," Tyr said. "But we don't have to fall in love to have a family." Harper flinched. "I never fell in love with her." "But you love her?" "Yeah", he mumbled. Tyr pushed himself away from the wall he had leaned against. "But this has nothing to do with your current situation. It doesn't matter whether you hate her or not for what she's done. In a few days she'll be dead." Harper looked at him, the pain clearly visible in his eyes. "You are cruel, big guy." Tyr nodded and left the room.
"Were you pregnant, Chloe?" She turned away from him, hoping he'd forget his question or at least go away. "Were you pregnant?" He repeated. "Yeah," she mumbled, not looking at him. Her fingers absentmindly tore at the frayed edges of her blanket. "By whom?" He asked, forcing his voice above a whisper. He could count the time he forced her to speak to him on one hand. But this was something he just had to know. Something nagged at him from the back of his mind that he already knew the answer, but he clutched that one little strand of hope that he was wrong. She remained silent before she turned around to face him. There was no anger in her eyes. Only sadness. Whether she was feeling sorry for herself or for Harper, he couldn't tell. "By you." She whispered. He blinked. Deep down, he knew he should't be surprised, but it still hit him hard. "Oh my God," he breathed, and let her hand go. Her hand fell limply onto the blanket He swallowed hard and fought to regain his voice. He had to ask her something else. Again he knew deep down that he knew the answer, but he asked anyway. Tormenting themselves was something all mudfeet were born to do. "Where is our child now?" His whisper was barely audible but Chloe had heard him. "She's dead. She didn't make it to her second birthday." Her voice was husky. He got up and paced between her bed and the wall. "How?" The word sounded empty. Like he was asking her how some stupid machine part worked. Not like he was asking her how their child had died. "The same as every mudfoot child; malnutrition, weak immune system." Her voice was empty and carefully void of all emotions. He had taught her that. He had taught her how to keep the blank stare on her face and how to bury every emotion deep inside. The dull ache in his heart threatened to engulf him and he furiously blinked back tears. Instead of sucumbing to despair, he did what he had learned long ago to do. He lashed out in anger. "Fuck you, Chloe," he cried out. "She could have made it if you had stayed onboard the Maru. But no, you had to take off to some backwater planet and kill our child just because you were afraid." She sat up, her eyes flashing and her whole body shaking with rage. "Fuck you, Seamus Zelazny Harper, you have no idea what it is like. You sleep wall to wall with a magog and a Nietzschean. And just because you gave in to the luxury of forgetting all your fears, you still have no right to judge me. At least I didn't betray my folks and myself by forgetting where I come from." They looked at each other in silent shock and anger and despair. Chloe's last words had hurt. Really hurt. She bit her lip and her anger faded as she looked like she was about to apologize or take back those words, but Harper didn't want to let it go yet. He had needed to find a reason to be angry, and now he had found it. "I didn't forget nothing," he hissed and stormed out of med deck, the doors hissing shut behind him. He went right to his quarters and started to work on one of his projects. He didn't know what else to do. Without him noticing, Tyr entered the room. "Hello, little man." He said, his voice soft for the first time. "Tyr." Harper answered not even bothering to look up. "I heard she was your mate." Tyr stated and leaned against a wall. There wasn't much room in Harpers quarter. Too many clothes, too many tools and unrecognizable parts were lying around. "I don't want to listen to your Nietzchean analogies about family." "My survival depends on your mood." Tyr said simply. Harper gave a short, sharp laugh. "I work better when I'm angry." "Okay, so be angry." Tyr said, not moving from his position. "What?" Harper turned around to him. He held the nanowelder like a weapon in his hand. "You think I'm wrong?" "I never said that." "Then what did you say, Tyr?" his voice was sharp. Tyr smiled. He didn't know exactly why. Maybe it was because he could play Harper like a tune or because Harper trusted him enough to let himself be played like a tune. "I suppose she would have been the mother of your child", Tyr stated. "She was the mother of my child." "Yes, the three of you would have been family. But you never got to know your daughter and now Chloe is everything that's left of your possible family." Harper ran a hand though his spiky hair. "And if you were me, Tyr? If your child would have died of something you could probably have prevented from happening, what would you do?" Tyr shook his head, dismissing the subject "I'm Nietzchean." Harper turned around to his project, slamming the nanowelder onto the table. "Yeah, I forgot, you got special rights." "No," Tyr said. "But we don't have to fall in love to have a family." Harper flinched. "I never fell in love with her." "But you love her?" "Yeah", he mumbled. Tyr pushed himself away from the wall he had leaned against. "But this has nothing to do with your current situation. It doesn't matter whether you hate her or not for what she's done. In a few days she'll be dead." Harper looked at him, the pain clearly visible in his eyes. "You are cruel, big guy." Tyr nodded and left the room.