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Ch. 8

Remembered

She wouldn't remember him. No way would the former slave collector turned high-minded official remember one sickly, pale kludge out of thousands. As all Nietzscheans tended to look the same to Harper, all humans would undoubtedly look the same to her.

Harper told himself this over and over on leaving his room and taking to the corridors. It was actually working since he turned corners without stopping to see if she were on the other side. There could be no denying that she would not remember him. No kludge was worth remembering to an uber, say Dylan of course.

A small part of him, however, wanted her to remember. Because if she remembered, perhaps she might react, and if she reacted violently then Harper would have no choice but to kill her. It would be in self-defense, and backlash from the Dragan government would be minimal. Wouldn't it? Harper knew better, but he could still dream.

Harper became immersed in his thoughts until nothing around him registered. So when he next turned the corner he almost fell back in alarm.

She was there, striding with wide steps down the corridors, her copper leather robe shimmering and billowing like partly spread wings. She still wore the same armor beneath as though to always remain ready for another slave run. And beside her walked the platinum-hared male, his face lined but his age indeterminable.

Harper's stomach twisted, filling his mouth with a sour tasting bile. He jerked back around the corner with his breath coming fast and his heart beating a sickly rhythm.

Cassie running. Knife in the back. Mother going down.

Harper swallowed back the vomit that burned in his throat.

Eli screaming, fighting, killing. Father laughing.

Bone blades at father's throat. Slash. Dead.

She had never even taken the knife from Cassie's back. She had left it there like a contaminated piece of trash.

Rage filled Harper to the point that he thought his skull would crack and his heart would burst. It clouded his mind, as well as his judgement, but not all his rationality. He would not act, but he wanted to see. He wanted to know if she remembered.

He peered around the corner and saw that the uber and her bodyguard had stopped to speak with Beka and Trance. He took that moment to emerge.

Time seemed to slow for him, though he walked quickly. When Harper neared, he looked over at her, his eyes dark and his expression darker. She glanced at him, then glanced again. Her mouth stopped moving and the words tumbled to a halt on her lips. She stared at him with eyebrows raised and time slowed even more. They became caught in a fragment of eternity; the place between the seconds that is no longer than a heartbeat yet could encompass milleniums. Stars could have been born and died within that moment, generations of them coming into being then fading into dust and black holes, it was so long.

Then Harper looked away. He could not hold that woman's gaze; it was too much for him. His stomach twisted again and he clenched his fists to stop his hands from trembling. He wanted so badly to put the shriller to his mouth and emit the loudest whistle he could. He wanted to bring the uber and her muscle to their knees and make them beg for mercy, from him.

Then it hit him. The woman had returned his gaze. She had appeared intrigued.

Harper shook his head. No, it could not be because she remembered. All the Dragans knew him now, being the cause of all their recent troubles. That was why she looked at him that way. Wasn't it?

AAAAAAAAAAAA

It was a funny thing, though Dylan was not laughing. He had the means to locate anyone he wanted to on his ship, and yet could not. He asked Rommie again and again where Harper was, but his path kept changing. It was as though he were wandering aimlessly, turning here and there, then doubling back and taking a whole new route. It gave Dylan the impression that Harper was trying to avoid everyone, or maybe just one.

When Dylan turned into the next corridor he nearly collided with Beka and Trance.

" Hey," Beka said, jumping slightly in startlement.

" Hi Dylan," Trance said brightly.

" Hi, hey have you two, by any chance, seen Harper?"

Beka's brow lifted. " Actually, speak of the little twerp, I have. He walked by while that woman was talking to me. She wanted me to take her on another tour. Then Harper walked by and she completely forgot (thank the Divine.) And let me tell you, the look on Harper's face…" She shook her head in disbelief. " I mean I thought for sure he'd be all over taking her on another tour, then spouting off some garbage about him being her humble servant and crap like that. You know how he is. But no!"

" He didn't say anything," Trance replied.

" Which was a good thing because I doubt it would've been very nice," Beka continued. " I'm telling you I've never seen the little runt give anyone a look like he did Anayla. Yeah it was brief, but still…" Beka shuddered. " Just when I thought Harper couldn't get weirder."

Trance gave Dylan a look of concern. " Is Harper all right?"

" That's what I'm going to find out. I just need to find him first."

Beka shrugged. " Easy. Just go to his sanctuary and wait. Harper can't avoid the machine shop forever. In fact, I'm surprised he isn't there right now."

" Actually," said Andromeda's voice, " he is. He just went in."

Dylan sighed in relief. " Finally." He then took off at a slight run before the engineer decided to start meandering again. When he came near the machine shop he slowed. The door was closed, and there came no sounds of banging, welding, or Sparky Cola cans clattering around.

The doors slid open when Dylan stepped in front of them. He entered into the mess of machine parts and tools, with tables and shelves cluttered with junk that only Harper could appreciate.

He did not see the younger man anywhere until he stepped around Harper's skeletal recreation of an old earth jet. Harper was on the other side, huddled on the floor with his right shoulder against the wall. He had his arms around his legs, and was gripping a thin metal pipe in his whitened fists.

" Harper?" Dylan said.

" Hey Dylan," Harper quietly replied. " Been looking for you."

Dylan chuckled at this. " Have you? That explains a lot then. Well, I've been looking for you. Funny how that didn't work out too well."

" I needed to think."

Dylan moved around to sit in front of Harper on the floor. The young man's eyelids were heavy and his gaze unfocused.

" Sounds like fun," Dylan said. " What about?"

Harper inhaled a deep breath, then let it out with a shudder. " Keep her away from me Dylan."

" Who? Anayla?"

Harper's eyes flashed with anger. " Is that her name? Anayla?"

Dylan nodded.

" Keep her away from me."

" Why?" Dylan asked.

Harper's gaze flicked away from Dylan. He squeezed his eyes shut so tight that it seemed to hurt him. A tear pushed past the lids and fell down Harper's face.

" I hate her," he stated. The fury of those words took Dylan back, and he could find no words of his own to form a reply.

Harper's body began to tremble. " I hate her."

Dylan leaned forward and placed his hand on the engineer's quaking shoulder to try and draw his attention.

" What did she do?"

Harper's eye shot open, filled with fiery rage. " Do?" He shifted, moving himself into a crouch. Dylan pulled his hand away quickly. The small, wiry Harper that had always seemed so fragile in body now reminded him of an enraged, cornered animal on the verge of attack. It alarmed Dylan to no end. This was not the Harper he knew, with his jokes and inability to say the right thing, but it was Harper none the less. Dylan did not know how he knew, he just felt it, sensed it. This was the Harper no one had ever seen, the earth-bound Harper forced to slink through shadows, ignore pain, and fight just to go on for one more day. This was the old Harper, the true Harper. No, not Harper, Seamus, because no one would have called him by his last name on Earth.

Harper's breath was coming faster now. He still gripped the pipe but in one hand. The other hand was spread flat against the wall to support him. His fingers tensed as though trying to tear through that wall, causing the tendons of his hands to stand out, making it appear skeletal.

" She didn't do anything to me," he said.

Dylan furrowed his brow. " Then…"

Harper stood suddenly. " She killed them!" he shouted. " She killed them and it's all my fault!"

Dylan also stood, but did nothing to try to calm Harper. The only way he could know the truth was to let the young man vent his fury.

" They weren't even coming for them!" He screamed. He was jerking back and forth as though preparing to dash, but his gaze was distant, focused beyond everything around him as tears fell continuously from his reddened eyes.

He took a quick, sharp breath to speak again. " And now she's hear, walking free, acting like she owns this ship… I hate her Dylan, I hater her, I hate her!"

Dylan was about to ask who 'they' were that Anayla had killed, but the answer came to him before he could.

" Your parents," he said.

These words caused a change in Harper. They seemed to drain him, and he slumped against the wall seemingly exhausted. He then lowered his head and slowly sank back to the floor, still quaking though all the rage appeared to have drained from him.

Dylan crouched in front of him.

" It's my fault," Harper said in a small, choked voice. " She was coming to take me away. If they'd just let her, they'd be alive. But they wanted me to live. They said it's all they wanted."

" Then why are you blaming yourself?" Dylan asked.

Harper wiped his eyes furiously. " Because I wasn't worth it. I was sick. I was dying. There was no point."

Dylan shook his head. " Harper, I don't even know where to begin telling you what's wrong with that."

Harper wiped his nose on his sleeve. " I know, I know, I'm still alive," he said, and for a moment seemed like the familiar Harper again. Then it vanished, and his eyes flooded with tears.

" I just…"

" Miss them?"

Harper nodded.

Dylan put both his hands on Harper's shoulders. " I can relate. You never stop missing the ones you love. You'd have to be heartless if you did."

Harper was still trembling; Dylan could feel it.

" I saw them die," Harper said. " I watched them die… and I couldn't do anything. I was too weak," he spat with loathing. " I'm always too weak."

Dylan chuckled. " Harper, you are anything but weak. You've lasted too long and through too much to be considered weak. No one here thinks you're weak, and that includes Tyr though I doubt he'd admit it any time soon."

Harper met Dylan's gaze. There was so much sadness and pain in Harper's eyes that it twisted like a knife into Dylan's heart.

" Why'd it have to be her?" the young man asked miserably. " Why'd she have to come here?"

Dylan stood, and helped Harper to his feet as well. " I don't know. But I'll keep her away from you. If it can be helped, you won't have to see her or hear her the entire time she's here."

Harper gave Dylan a brief, weak smile. " Thanks boss."

AAAAAAAAAA

Anayla stood placidly before the wide window of her room. The universe stretched before her, the black emptiness flecked in the white of stars and worlds. It seemed to her that if she would just reach out she could pluck them off the black backdrop and hold them like diamonds in her hands.

She was feeling high in spirits. Things were not simply going well, they were going wonderfully.

Seth stood behind her at the door, waiting in icy silence.

" Has it begun?" she asked.

" We are beginning to set them in place."

She inclined her head. " And they have yet to be detected?"

" We are moving slowly as you instructed. They are too small for one to be traced. We've already removed those that have finished the infiltration."

Anayla inclined her head again. A small smile tugged at her lips.

" When the aftermath occurs, I want that kludge alive."

" You're sure it's him?"

She dropped the smile as anger stirred in her chest. " Seth, I remember every face of every kludge I've ever taken. You know that. I made sure to. It gave me the advantage in the bets we made with the rest of the slavers. Know the slaves, know the bets, remember? I always knew how long they would last, always! That worm, that Harper, would not have lasted twenty-four hours, even with treatment. It had been a sure wager. Oh yes, it is him. I'd know him anywhere, at any age. Funny how it took so long to find him, and here of all places."

She glanced over her shoulder to smirk at Seth. " He's quite the little survivor, isn't he?"

Seth smirked back. Anayla returned her sights to the infinity beyond the protective window. " He cannot last forever."