Chapter 6
"In a mad world only the mad are sane."
-Akira Kurosawa
Machello. Nietzscheans. Darkness. Limvris. Machello… Machello…
Seamus Harper sat up with a scream dying in the back of his throat. For nearly a minute all he could manage to do was blink and make a futile attempt to control his breathing.
The hell? He looked quickly around the unfamiliar room surrounding him and then down at the baggy clothing he was wearing.
"Huh?" Harper garbled aloud.
Vague memories rushed back to him faster than a hoverboard surfing slipstream. Dorran. The Limvris chamber. Dead Niets. Playing GO. Trance waiting nearby. Beka looking down at him. Hospital. Tyr in trouble. Whiteness. Machello.
Harper scrubbed his face roughly with his hands. This had to be a dream. A bad, bad dream that he was going to wake up from anytime now. He looked down at his hands as he lowered them and frowned. Trying something, he bit just enough on his bottom lip to taste blood on his tongue. Okay, so not a dream.
Harper made an attempt to stand but his knees folded under him and he found himself looking up at the white ceiling. This definitely wasn't Med Deck. He rolled to his side and propped himself up with one elbow. So here he was, alone in a room with walls covered in what looked like some kind of white pillows. He was wearing what appeared to be medical scrubs and felt like he had a hangover the size of St. Louie.
He tried to make sense of his muddled thoughts, but as he tried to focus his brain seemed to cloud over. He almost felt… drugged! He knew that feeling all too well. A little nauseous too now that he started thinking about it.
A noise startled him and Harper looked up. Someone had opened the door and was approaching him. It was a nurse, or at least, he thought it was.
It might be a little stereotypical, but Harper always pictured nurses as female. On a Perseid world, however, he supposed that was a little different. A Perseid could be anything it wanted really. They were all hermaphrodites by nature, with each sex being able to fertilize each other and carry the young. Though, the idea of male pregnancy, especially after having his own bundles of joyless Magog inside his belly, was enough to creep him out about the whole process.
"Hello, Mr. Harper," the Perseid greeted. She... he.... it, whatever, was carrying something in their hand but Harper couldn't make out what it was.
"Hi," he answered weakly.
"Dr. Keenan says it's time for your medicine," the nurse said.
Medicine? Oh, he didn't think so.
"I'm not sick."
The Perseid smiled and looked back towards the door. Two larger Perseids entered behind her. These two did look male, undeniably male. They reminded Harper of the bounty hunter who'd been after Gerentex a few years back. Reaper or something like that. Maybe they were long lost brothers?
Noting the tension in the air, Harper made another attempt at standing. He succeeded in getting to his feet and locking his knees to keep him vertical. So far, so good.
The nurse still approached slowly, while the other two followed closely behind her. "Calm down, Mr. Harper."
"I'm calm," Harper clarified. "I'm cool, I'm collected. I'm like a frickin' cucumber here. But huh… whatcha got in your hand if you don't mind me asking?"
The Perseid smiled gently, but nodded to the two shadows. The overly large duo came around her and advanced on him. Harper stepped backwards but his back hit the padded wall.
"Woah guys, look, I'm just a little out of it so if you'd kindly--" the words were barely out of his mouth before they were grabbing for him.
Using every trick he'd ever learned on Earth, Harper dogged the first set of beefy hands reaching for him. He looked up to see an angry face glaring at him and he ducked again, right between the two larger figures. He could see the doorway calling to him as he sprinted past them. He thought he was home free, until a hand wrapped around his ankle and he felt gravity yank him down. Harper's chin slammed into the ground and he grunted out an unintelligible cuss word.
Hands now took hold of his arms and pinned him to the ground. He kicked out in panic and connected with something hard.
"Stop!" Harper screamed. "Just listen to me! STOP!"
Something pricked his neck and he felt his body respond to whatever had just been injected into his system. He struggled a moment but it was like fighting two brick walls. Eventually the strain became too much and his strength failed him. He felt the hands release him and watched as three pairs of feet came to stand in front of his face.
He was going to pass out again...
'Oh shi--'
And he did.
The ride back to Andromeda was relatively quiet. None of the five on the Maru were sure what to say to begin with. Random chitchat seemed inappropriate for the moment yet total silence seemed almost as bad. It felt as if the stillness was an acceptance of everything that had happened.
Beka unbuckled herself from the pilot seat of her ship and rubbed the back of her neck. She didn't want acceptance; she wanted answers.
"Beka? You coming?" Dylan called and stuck is head into the front cockpit.
"Yeah, on my way."
Beka followed Hunt to the airlock where Trance, Rommie, and Tyr stood waiting. Though it was open, none had stepped out.
"You guys didn't have to wait for me," Beka said as she approached.
Trance smiled. "We wanted to."
Beka nodded, grateful for their presence. "Thanks guys. I know I've been kind of a…" She paused.
"Bitch?" Dylan offered teasingly.
"I was going to say pain," Beka answered with a smile, "but yeah, that works too."
Everyone's mood seemed to ease at the joke. It was the first light moment in days and they were thankful for it. The group entered the Andromeda together but split in the corridor to go their separate ways. Dylan and Rommie were off to Command, Tyr headed left to his quarters, and Beka the other way to hers. Trance followed behind her as the two continued to talk.
Beka sighed as Trance caught up. "God, I hate seeing Harper like that."
Trance nodded. "There can't be anything worse than losing your mind and knowing it's happening."
"CAPTAIN!"
Beka instinctively turned back to see Andromeda Hologram shimmer into life behind her. The figure's back was to her, which meant she was calling to Dylan who'd gone the opposite way.
"Andromeda?" Beka heard Dylan respond. "What's wrong?"
Beka stopped her trek forward and ran towards the intersection of corridors. As she rounded the corner she saw Dylan and Rommie has halted as well. Beka only had a view of Andromeda's back but her voice had been deadly serious. The type of seriousness only a war ship could manage convincingly.
"It's Tyr," Andromeda went on, "he's collapsed in the corridor."
Together all four crew members rushed down the hallway the Nietzschean had just taken. Feet pounded the Andromeda's deckplating as they raced to their fallen friend. It looked as if Tyr had just been ready to turn into another corridor when something had stopped him. He was now on his knees, bent over with his forehead nearly touching the ground.
Beka and Trance were the first to reach him. Beka slid to a halt before the fallen man and went to her knees as well.
"Tyr? What's wrong?" she asked.
Dylan and Rommie arrived a second later. "Tyr?" the Captain asked.
Beka grabbed his shoulder to get his attention but the Nietzschean looked like he was in too much pain to talk.
"Help me get him to Med Deck!" Trance said taking one of Tyr's arms. Dylan followed and took the other, wrapping it around his neck.
"Hang on, Tyr," Beka murmured.
Harper glanced towards the shrouded machinery. "Sweet. You think you could show us how they work?"
Machello stared at the earthling a moment, his piercing eyes roaming Harper's body. "Are we sure we are not Nietzschean?"
"Hell yeah." Harper didn't think Tyr would be too happy with this idea, but weapons to fight the Magog (not that he didn't mind killing few Niets) would be a great asset to the Andromeda's armory.
"You! You!" the man cried, pointing at Harper. "Here, quickly! Inventions to fight the Nietzscheans!"
Shrugging his shoulders, Harper followed Machello to one of the smaller pedestals. The old man pulled off one of the shrouds, revealing a outlandish looking device. Though the craftsmanship was advanced, it reminded Seamus of two bicycle handles pasted together. He guessed the device to be about two feet high with the handles on each side measuring about three. Both sets of them jutted out an edge of the device. Machello came to stand before one set of the handles, motioning for him to move to the adjacent ones
"Now what?" Harper asked as he came to rest across from the old man. Machello placed his hands on each side of the grips, waiting for the engineer to do the same.
Harper reached out but stopped an inch from the handles. He couldn't touch the machine again. The last time… the last time he'd done it had switched bodies with Machello. He'd ended up in Med Deck dying of heart failure while the sneaky old bastard had run around on Kabelea enjoying his young, healthy (at that particular moment anyway) body.
He looked up at Machello. "No. I remember what happened."
The elderly man remained silent. Harper stepped around the machine towards him. "What do you want with me? You died… this can't be real."
"Seamus Harper, you have delivered me to the vile Nietzschean so I may destroy it."
"What does that mean?" Harper demanded.
Harper reached for the man but a white light blinded him and he flinched back. When he opened his eyes he was lying in a bed in Medical. Déjà vu.
He let his body fall back against the bed, wishing the aches in his body to cease.
"It's useless," he said, his dreamself falling back into old memories he couldn't help but repeat.
Trance looked up at her friend and frowned. "No, it's not, Andromeda has already concluded that it's a mixture of ancient Perseid and Acronic. We're getting closer, Harper."
"You keep saying that," Seamus replied, "but I've seen what she's gotten so far. I don't consider myself a linguist-- it's true what Beka says about me being unable to conjugate Common-- but this isn't right. The alphabets are similar yeah, but it looks like an original language."
"He's right," Andromeda's hologram said solemnly. "There's no sentence structure to the words. I'm not sure I'll be able to decode it without any more information. We need--"
"A Rosetta stone," Harper added.
"Yes," the ship answered. "I'm just afraid Machello is his own Rosetta stone. He may be the only one who can translate this for us."
"We'll get him to tell us, Harper," Trance said, taking his wrinkled hand into hers.
Harper grimaced again as the dream switched. When he opened his eyes again he was still on Med Deck. However, he was now staring at… himself. The young, healthy, vivacious him. Not as he was feeling now: old, ill, and feeble. The memories took over
"Well," Harper said, sitting up a bit, "from what I can see, you're looking good."
Machello snorted. "What would you have me say? I am sorry? I wish I could undo it? I do not. I have earned this. I earned it because I sacrificed my life for you and your people. The least you could do is compensate me with another life."
He glanced calmly at the man across from him. "Who exactly gave you the right to judge the value of my life?"
Machello's blue eyes filled with fury. "I have suffered more than anyone should suffer in a lifetime. For fifty years I fought against my enemies. I was eventually betrayed and turned in by my closest friends."
Harper shook his head and laughed lightly. "I've been betrayed by a lot people in my life. And the torture thing? It's not so bad once you get used to it."
"At least you still have a planet and friends," Machello spat. "Two billion of my people died rather than surrender me to the Nietzscheans."
"You've made sacrifices and we owe you… gratitude, but that still doesn't give you the right to take another's life."
Machello sneered. "If you had the technology, you would do the same."
"No, I wouldn't," Seamus answered, his voice becoming hoarse. "If I did I would be no better than the Niets."
"I am nothing like them!"
"The Nietzscheans use slaves because they think they are better than humans, because they believe they deserve it," Harper said, all the bitterness of his past flying back. "You're a Nietzschean, Machello. I'm nothing but a slave to you-- someone you can use and dispose of at will."
"I am not a Nietzschean," Machello replied, his words full of hatred.
Harper felt his chest tightening. "My planet is still salvageable. There's a chance I could still help save it-- you're stealing that chance."
Machello leaned closer, blue eyes on blue. "Even if you still had this body, you will never be able to save your world. It will always be dominated by the Nietzscheans."
"No," Harper protested, his breath now coming in short gasps. He could feel his heart racing in his chest. "I will help it. I will-"
The scanner monitoring Harper began to shrill.
"STOP!" Seamus screamed and the memories along with the pain in his lungs faded. He fell to the ground gasping for air, now alone in a padded white room.
"Machello!" No response. "MACHELLO! Answer me damnit!"
A voice began to whisper in his ear. "Seamus Harper, you have delivered me to the vile Nietzschean so I may destroy it."
"What does that mean?!" Harper demanded. "I don't understand! I don't understand!"
For the second time that day Seamus Harper woke with a start. His head was pounding and his lungs ached, but worse than his physical hurts was what his mind had just processed. He understood now.
He wasn't exactly sure where he was, but it didn't take a genius to figure that out. Though the last few days were still a general blur, he remembered enough. He remembered getting sick. He remembered playing GO with Beka. He remembered dead Nietzscheans. He also remembered something much worse involving Tyr. Something had gone inside of his friend. That he did remember all to clearly. And all of it had something to do with Machello, the man he, Beka, and Tyr had met on Kabelea almost a year ago.
The stranger had looked gentle at first, but it turned out the seemingly senile elder was in fact extremely manipulative and conniving. He'd tricked Harper into switching consciousnesses and left him in a terminally ill body. Besides himself, Machello's machines had also accidentally switched Tyr and Beka as well. The results had been… less than pleasant for both of them. Funny as hell though. The two never seemed to get the humor of it of course. Harper would have laughed too if he hadn't been so concerned about his heart stopping.
Deciding that is was time to act, Harper planted both of his palms firmly on the flooring and managed to get on all fours. After a second to compose himself he wobbled to his feet and rushed towards the door. Futilely he tried pulling at the seams of the door since there wasn't a handle to grip, but it refused to move. He resorted to hitting furiously on it instead.
'God, who was the doctor the nurse mentioned? Dylan said it earlier too. Doctor… Quiche?… Keys?… Keen?… so close…'
"Keenan!" Harper screamed as the name clicked. He pounded harder on the door, his fist beginning to throb. "Doctor Keenan!"
