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"Hey guys," Harper called out to his questioners, "the betting window's open. I'll be taking your wagers on which member of the Andromeda's crew will blast his way in here first and when. Anybody? Was that 'Captain Rhade in a week'? I don't know--I think Tyr would leap at a chance to break out the Big Freakin' Guns. He's probably checking 'em right now."
One of the men threw a baleful glance at the skinny human. "We're eating here, kludge. Save it."
Another growled and slammed his utensils on the rickety table. "I was done anyway. Charlemagne's eating caviar and sipping brandy while we get..." he sighed disgustedly.
"Mystery meat? Ah, it's better than fish eggs and bad grape juide anyway." For his part, Harper had already consumed his allotted sustenance for the day. "It's too bad Friedrich isn't here. He makes better conversation than both of you Ubers combined."
The second Nietzschean stomped over to where Harper sat cuffed to a metal chair. "You must have a deathwish, boy." He slammed his fist across Harper's temple.
Harper blinked several times, clearing his vision. Then he laughed. The older man... Ialous, maybe... got the worst end of that encounter. His knuckle had struck the hardest part of Harper's skull around that region of his head, and the meat of his palm had only jolted the human slightly. "With nothing more threatening than a spoon and fork, the caveman must resort to his fists to strike the poor little kludge." And fail miserably.
Ialous turned to his companion. "When do we get outta here? This kid is driving me crazy."
From his corner, Harper interrupted that such was his job.
The door flew open, and both Nietzscheans snapped to attention. The sitting one jumped to his feet as if stabbed with a pin, and the other leapt across the room in a single bound. "Thanks, boss, this runt was running his mouth, and you know he..."
Harper twisted around and caught the rare sight of two Nietzscheans losing all blood in their faces, mouths and eyes forming wide O's of shock. Unhappy shock, from the looks of things. He grinned. It really was too bad neither of the men had decided to take him up on the wager.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hey guys," Harper called out to his questioners, "the betting window's open. I'll be taking your wagers on which member of the Andromeda's crew will blast his way in here first and when. Anybody? Was that 'Captain Rhade in a week'? I don't know--I think Tyr would leap at a chance to break out the Big Freakin' Guns. He's probably checking 'em right now."
One of the men threw a baleful glance at the skinny human. "We're eating here, kludge. Save it."
Another growled and slammed his utensils on the rickety table. "I was done anyway. Charlemagne's eating caviar and sipping brandy while we get..." he sighed disgustedly.
"Mystery meat? Ah, it's better than fish eggs and bad grape juide anyway." For his part, Harper had already consumed his allotted sustenance for the day. "It's too bad Friedrich isn't here. He makes better conversation than both of you Ubers combined."
The second Nietzschean stomped over to where Harper sat cuffed to a metal chair. "You must have a deathwish, boy." He slammed his fist across Harper's temple.
Harper blinked several times, clearing his vision. Then he laughed. The older man... Ialous, maybe... got the worst end of that encounter. His knuckle had struck the hardest part of Harper's skull around that region of his head, and the meat of his palm had only jolted the human slightly. "With nothing more threatening than a spoon and fork, the caveman must resort to his fists to strike the poor little kludge." And fail miserably.
Ialous turned to his companion. "When do we get outta here? This kid is driving me crazy."
From his corner, Harper interrupted that such was his job.
The door flew open, and both Nietzscheans snapped to attention. The sitting one jumped to his feet as if stabbed with a pin, and the other leapt across the room in a single bound. "Thanks, boss, this runt was running his mouth, and you know he..."
Harper twisted around and caught the rare sight of two Nietzscheans losing all blood in their faces, mouths and eyes forming wide O's of shock. Unhappy shock, from the looks of things. He grinned. It really was too bad neither of the men had decided to take him up on the wager.