Thanks again for the nice comments and to the queen of all things Beta (((Eljay))))
Harper had been on two planets and currently his third drift in as many days. He dragged his dirty fingernails across his empty stomach as he walked down the street. He had decided he didn't like drifts. The smelt like old metal covered in even older grease. He missed the sun. He didn't even know the name of the drift he was currently on. But it didn't matter; the sooner he could find away off this trash heap in space, the closer he would be to home.
Earlier in the day while looking for odd jobs he had fixed a washing device for a grateful older lady. The lady in turn had then given him a credit chip for his time. He had held the chip in his hand for a very long time before offering the lady a brief smile of thanks. He couldn't remember ever having credit of his own before. It made him feel a bit proud. He let it glitter and shine in his palm for a few moments before heading back out on to the street. He stuffed the chip deep in to his pocket. He didn't want anyone to take it away from him.
Since he had never had a chip before he was a bit at odds what to do with it but, food was high on the list.
Harper rounded a corner and came to an abrupt stop. He instantly knew where he would be spending his money.
The smells from the bakeshop wafted through the air. He entered the small store ... through the front door and paused. A teenage girl sat behind the counter and she stared at him suspiciously as he entered. "We don't give freebies kid."
Harper sneered back at her. "I got money."
The girl said nothing back but just watched him like he was about rob the place blind. Harper had to admit the idea had crossed his mind briefly. But he hadn't had a whole lot of luck with bakeshops. Let her watch he didn't care he was a legit customer... for once. He poked around the store for a few minutes checking out the cookies and the sticky buns. There was bread twisted in funny shapes and cakes that he couldn't quit tell what they were made of. Then on the right at the back a row of small pies shined with glaze in the low light. He may have gasped out loud. With a shaking hand he picked one up and walked back to the snotty girl and her till. She took his credit and he walked out of the store carrying the pie like it was a sacred artifact.
He searched around and found a corner between two stores and he tucked himself in to it. He gazed at the warm pastry as he held it in his lap. Tears sprung to his eyes. It was Fergus's pie. He swore at himself lightly. This was stupid. He was supposed to be a grownup now. He had to be able to take care of himself. Yet here he was hiding between two buildings crying over a pastry. He started to think about Fergus lying in the tall grass reminding him to get the pie. Neither of them had had one before but it had to be good right? He though of Dionysus and his awful machine and his stomach began to feel queasy. Then he thought of Trance and the cookies that Tyr made. Still the pie sat and steamed in his lap. Should he eat it? He was hungry. But Fergus should be eating this pie not him. His whole life food had been a vicious circle. Beka and Tyr said it was okay to eat things. People were supposed to eat things. But he would always equate food with pain. He sighed deeply and stuck his fingers in to the side of the pie. The chunks of apples and syrup dripped from his fingers. He slurped at it quickly so it wouldn't fall to the ground. He closed his eyes in bliss. Fergus was right--this was the best thing he had ever tasted.
He gulped the rest quickly and crawled back out of the corner. He brushed himself off the best he could remembering what Tyr said about girls and cleanliness.
Rommie had told him she liked it better when he didn't smell, so Tyr had been right. He never cleaned up his quarters though. It didn't matter if girls liked that or not anyways; if he left it long enough Rommie would have one of the Maria bots clean it up.
He stopped and physically shook himself. There was no use thinking about the Andromeda. They didn't want him there. Dionysus has called him a Kludge...a Street Rat; it was mostly likely he would never be anything else. But maybe if he went home he could find his Mom and Dad, maybe his Aunt too. Then they could have a home again. Dad and him would go find food and it wouldn't make him sick anymore. Mom would read the old books from the cellar to him. His Aunt would laugh as they tried hopelessly to grow a garden in the field out back. Raven, Fergus and him would .... Reality came crashing back. Even if he found his parents, and that was a big if, things would never be the same again.
Maybe, just maybe though, if he could find them they would make a new home together.
Harper wandered towards the space dock. If he were lucky he would be able to find passage to the next drift... or planet for a bit of manual labour. Once the Captains found out that they didn't have to pay him they were pretty willing. He didn't care where they were flying as long as they were flying in the direction of Earth, and home.
Beka and Tyr had gotten a message buoy off to Andromeda about a week ago. The message simply said that they were fine but would continue searching for Harper. They hadn't gotten a response back yet, Beka wasn't sure she wanted one. She wasn't real sure the Andromeda would receive the message. She wasn't even sure what type of state the ship was still in or if it was still in once piece at all. Woody had directed them in the direction of the spaceport and had informed them of Harper's plan to find work off planet. It really hadn't been much of a lead. They asked Woody if he wanted to come and join the search. He had shaken his head; adamantly declaring that he was just starting to figure things out and he need to stay to do that. It was an odd and cryptic reply but Beka had let it slide. She wasn't worried about Woody.
They had chased Harper for a better part of a month, from planet to drift, always just finding out that he had left just two days or three days before. Finally they talked to one freighter pilot that declared he had seen the boy just the day before but he offered no further clues.
Beka sighed loudly as they refueled the Maru.
"We are gaining on him," remarked Tyr bluntly.
"Yeah but we've hit a dead end. No one saw where he went next."
"Maybe he hasn't left."
"Maybe," agreed Beka reluctantly.
"The boy seems to be doing quite well for himself though."
"What makes you say that?"
Well," Tyr started, "If he was sick or hurt he wouldn't be able to move on so quickly. Besides, I don't know why we continue on with this charade. We both know where he's going."
Beka banged the sided of the Maru with her fist. Her frustration was getting the best of her. "But, why Tyr? Why go back to starvation? Why go back to a place where dictators torture you for fun! I don't get it!"
"It's simple," Tyr shrugged nonchalantly. "Do you remember what you said to me back to me on Sinti? He needed to go back to his people. He obviously can't adapt as well as I thought."
"But, why Earth? Why not try to find us?"
"What has he always said from day one? Yet we always brushed it off."
The thought hit Beka like a blow to the stomach. "He said he wanted to go home. It's just...I thought..."
"You thought if you ignored his requests long enough Andromeda would become is home."
Beka blinked back tears and looked away not quite willing to met Tyr's eyes right then. "Earth's still a long ways away. It would take us a week to get there even if we flew there directly."
"But go we must if you with to convince him that his circumstances have changed."
Beka gave a small smile. "I only hope I can."
He couldn't believe his luck when he found the Missionary ship that was flying directly to earth. Four more slipstreams and he would be home. He could barely sit still in the chair he had been allotted.
The pretty young nurse that had allowed him passage watched him out of the corner of her eye as she went over a checklist of her supplies. Harper did his best to ignore her as he stared avidly out the window.
"Tell me why you want to go to Earth again? It seems strange, most young men are trying their hardest to get away from there."
Seamus shrugged. He didn't feel like conversation. He just wanted to get where he was going. "I told you I was looking for something."
The young nurse didn't seem put off by his rough tone. "You're awfully young to be by yourself. Where are your parents?"
"I'm older than I look," was his only reply.
The nurse continued looking at him. He could feel her eyes boring in to the side of his head and he finally gave in. "Look lady you seem nice and everything and I realize it's your job to help people but really I was just looking for a ride."
"They you don't want anything for that rash?"
He blinked rapidly not quite sure he heard right. "What?"
"There on the side of your neck." She stepped forward and her fingers flitted gently over his neck just under his ear.
He couldn't help but flinch at her touch. It had been itching him there all day but he hadn't thought much of it. "I'll be fine."
"It'll only take a second to fix. I'll promise I'll leave you alone afterwards."
Harper sighed. "All right fine then."
He followed her in to a back room that held various types of medical supplies. It wasn't more than a closet really. She leaned forward to get a box behind his head. She was very close. Harper closed his eyes. She smelled pretty like Trance, but different too. The room suddenly felt a little muggy as he became painfully away of another pressing need. "Er, look I'll wait for you out in the corridor okay." His checks felt suddenly warm.
"What's wrong?" the nurse cooed. She pulled a small injection syringe out of its box. "We're nearly done."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Harper fidgeted uncomfortable.
The nurse smiled coyly. "Just tilt your head." Her hand brushed his neck.
Where the hell was this coming from? He couldn't back up, there was a shelf right behind him. "Listen, you're nice and all but I don't even know your name and..."
She put a finger on his lips. "Shhh." She pressed the injector firmly against his neck and he heard a small hiss as the medication hit his blood stream.
The nurse wrapped her arms around his chest holding him close.
His body shivered. Shivered? That couldn't be right. He looked up at the woman's face. She was watching him again but this time it lacked a certain... passion. His legs felt funny and the room started to dance. It was a lot like when Tyr drugged him. "Something's...wrong."
The nurse's smile was anything but friendly then, and everything went dark.
Light pierced through the darkness like a knife hitting the back of his skull. Seamus groaned in protest. His tongue felt too big and his head throbbed. It was hard to think in a straight line. His arms ached and he felt utterly confused. His memory rushed back like a wave pounding the rocks. He gasped and jerked upwards. However whatever the nurse had given him was still in his system and the world tilted crazily and his nose quickly met the deck plating.
The light that woke him came from the port windows. They weren't in space anymore. They must have landed on a planet. But he had no idea where.
Well at least he was still on the same ship; he confirmed that with a quick glance around. His stomach protested with a loud gurgle. He closed his eyes tightly fighting off the nausea the chased the dizziness. He tried to bring his arms forward to push himself up but his arms were tied behind his back. His feet were free but his hands seemed tethered to the wall as well as to each other. The fall had pulled his arms tautly behind him.
He groaned. What the hell happened? He was just sitting there and psycho Nurse Kratchet comes out of nowhere. He banged his head lightly against the floor in frustration. When Tyr drugged him he hadn't felt this bad afterwards. What the heck did she give him?
His neck was itchy and he couldn't even scratch it. Then he heard voices and footsteps approaching. Playing dead seemed the wisest choice right that second.
"I told you I had him." It sounded like Nurse Kratchet.
"How do I know it's him for sure?" It was a male's voice... deeper and meaner sounding. Harper tried to slow his breathing as they approached him.
Someone crouched beside him. Suddenly a hand grabbed the back of his head pulling it back sharply. Harper cried out despite himself. He struggled but could not loosen the hold on his hair. His eyes watered from the pain.
Harper opened his eyes and was face to face with an oversized Nietzschean. Harper panicked; "No, no, no."
"Quiet Rat!" the Uber hissed, grabbing the front of Harper's face right at the hinge of the jawbone. His mouth was forced open slightly and any attempt at movement caused pain to course down his neck and up through his ears. A small whine escaped his throat, but he could utter no further protest.
The Uber forcibly turned his head to the right then to the left. "You're right; it sure looks like him."
"I'm sure it's him, His ugly mug has been blasted all over the net for months. I've gotten so sick of looking at it."
The Uber finally let go of his head. Harper fell back heavily unable to brace himself with his confined hands.
"I want my credit," Nurse Kratchet demanded.
"Relax--you'll get it right after we confirm his identity."
After that the words just buzzed around Harper's head. He felt so tired and sore. He didn't understand what was going on. Why was his face all over the net? This had to be a mistake, he was no-one.
The tall Nietzschean untied Harper's tether from the wall then pulled him to his feet. Harper couldn't help but sway unsteadily. But he was given no time to find his bearings. The Nietzschean pulled on his rope and led him off the ship.
The sun that had bothered him earlier hit him full force as he was led off the ship. He staggered as the pain in his head doubled. After a few moments he was able to open his eyes. Noises and smells assaulted his senses. He tried to stop but the Uber yanked on the rope. The rope tightened making his shoulders ache but he staggered on. He hadn't had time to really understand the situation he was in, but one overwhelming fact was slowly becoming apparent. He was a prisoner and most likely a slave.
He started to look around frantically looking for a chance to escape. All he saw were rows and rows of ships and merchants. There was a long fence on one side. Little kids stood begging for money, treats, whatever the spacers would toss to them.
He recognized that fence. He recognized this spaceport. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was Boston. He was home. His house was just a few miles away, up and over the hills he could see in the distance. If he sniffed really hard he could smell the ocean over the scents of the merchants' wares.
He was jerked forward once again. He bit his lip in an attempt not to cry out.
This wasn't quite the homecoming he had hoped for.
TBC