Chapter 7
"Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds."
-Franklin D. Roosevelt
Someone was coming and this time Harper was 90 percent sure it wasn't a walking, talking cadaver. (He figured he'd save the last 10 percent for the heck of it. It was a weird universe after all. Who knew?)
The lock on the door released and Harper sat up straighter, his back plastered against the room's padded wall. He'd yelled all night with no one really paying him any mind. Maybe someone had finally decided to look in on him. Make sure he wasn't dead or anything.
The door opened and two figures entered. Damn. The brawny aides from before. He decided to call them Clichés Uno and Dos for the moment. Uno was carrying a tray of something that might have passed as food on some worlds.
"Hey guys, I know you probably don't care," Harper said, "but I really need to talk to Dr. Keenan."
Uno put the tray down and Dos took up a position by the door, glancing momentarily out the tiny window.
Harper didn't like the implications of this. "So, uh… dinner?" he asked, swallowing and trying to keep his voice from cracking.
Cliché Uno slowly approached, a feral grin on his face. Besides Reaper, Harper didn't know an excessive number of Perseids, but he'd always pictured them generally as pacifists and genteel beings. These two though definitely reminded Harper all too well of the Nietzschean lunkheads he'd dealt with back on Earth.
As soon as Uno was within close proximity he grabbed Harper by the lapel and then around the neck. The gray, beefy hand lifted him several feet in the air and slammed him into the wall. Seamus would have protested but he was to busy gasping for blessed oxygen.
"You think you can hurt me, little human?"
Harper eyes went wide. When he'd been fighting with them earlier his foot had made solid contact with… something. Now that he was up close and personal with the Perseid, he noticed the aide's swelled nose. It also had a lovely blackish tint to it too. Crap!
"S'ry…" Seamus managed.
"Some of us don't care if you're crazy or not," Uno went on. "If you ever fight back like that again you'll regret it." The aide smiled. "You don't even deserve to be here. Your friends should find a human hospital to take care of your pathetic existence. Or maybe just put you out of it. So you can either agree right now to be a good little scum bucket or pay for it later."
Harper nodded desperately, knowing he was seconds away from passing out if the goon didn't let go.
Uno released him and Harper dropped like a rock. He landed on his belly, gasping for air. Anger flooded into him and he mumbled the first thing that came to his mind.
"Stupid asshole."
As the words left his mouth he regretted them. Oh, double crap.
Still sucking in oxygen like a beached fish, Harper suddenly felt his left arm being pulled painfully being him and a knee dig into his lower back.
"What?" Uno demanded, yanking on the captured limb. He laughed and said something to Cliché Dos. Harper heard Dos open the door and call out to someone.
Uno leaned in closer, his knee digging painfully into Harper. "You'll regret that later, little human."
Seamus heard Dos speaking, something about the patient having an episode and attacking them. Harper's turned his head to see a nurse carrying a hypospray. No no no no! Not more sedatives! It had taken him hours to feel slightly normal again after the last dose.
Harper tried to protest but Uno twisted his wrist and he whimpered. The nurse bent next to him and stuck the metallic device to his neck, a few inches down from his port. He felt the familiar warmth of the drug flow through him. The knee on his back was removed and his abused arm dropped next to him. His eyesight began to blur and he closed his eyes, unwilling to fight a battle he knew he couldn't win. Here we go again…
Beka Valentine couldn't believe her luck. Truth be told, she was ready to strap a sonic grenade to Lady Luck's chest in her irritation. In a single week her brilliant engineer had mentally lost it and another friend was ill, possibly dying, and there wasn't a blasted thing she could do about any of it.
"His organs are slowly failing. I can't explain why," Trance was saying.
Beka was listening but she was also staring over at Tyr. He was just lying there, incredibly still and pale. The only thing that moved was his dark chest. Up, down, pause. Up, down, pause. She didn't think she'd ever seen the Kodiak so… motionless. It was a bit disconcerting.
"Is he having hallucinations like Harper?" Dylan asked. That question drew Beka from her cogitation and she looked over at Trance.
"No. His dopamine levels are normal," Trance answered. "Harper also didn't have the same physical symptoms that Tyr is having now. They seem to be unrelated."
Hunt looked down sullenly at his weapons officer. "How long does he have?"
"At the rate his organs are failing, I'd say two days… possibly three if we don't figure out what's wrong with him. His lungs seem to be the worst off at the moment. He may have to use a respirator by the end of the night."
"Andromeda," Dylan called and ships hologram appeared on command. "Contact the Perseids. Tell them we may need their help again."
Beka heard Andromeda acknowledge his order but she was looking over at Trance. The alien was listening to Dylan as well but there was something in her eyes that made Beka's stomach twist.
"They can't do anything for him, can they?
"Beka knew her words were more statement than question.
Trance look up and Valentine saw sorrow in her friend's eyes. "Anything is possible I suppose."
Once more the door to Harper's room opened, but this time he refused to acknowledge whoever his guest was. It was probably Uno and Dos back to torment him.
"Mr. Harper?" a kind voice asked.
Seamus decided it was worth it to look up and was surprised to see it wasn't the aides. Thank the Devine. Instead of the Cliché Brothers it was a smaller Perseid in a white lab coat. He looked to be a little taller than Harper himself and had a rather pronounced chin. It was probably a staple of Perseid high society.
"Mr. Harper, I'm doctor Keenan," the newcomer went on. "I was informed you were asking for me. I'm sorry I wasn't available. I was away at another facility until today."
Realizing this was finally his chance, Harper jumped to his feet. And then fell backwards into the wall, barely managing to keep on his feet. Nausea hit him like a ton of bricks.
"Just uh… give me a second," Harper mumbled, trying to quell his rebellious stomach.
"It's time for your medicine, Mr. Harper," Keenan said as he approached. He reached a hand towards the engineer but Seamus stepped back.
"Look, I don't uh… I don't need any more drugs. What I need is to get the ones you've got in my system out of my system."
Keenan gently smiled. "No, Seamus, you need rest."
"I think I've rested enough," Harper said, his stomach finally settling. "Just tell me one thing doc, is Tyr sick?"
"Not that I'm aware of," the Perseid answered. "I haven't seen your captain in a day or so though."
Harper clenched his teeth as his head began to pound. Round two of the drugs. He smacked a fist into the wall in anger.
"Mr. Harper, I insist you calm yourself, otherwise I'll have to have you restrained and further sedated."
Harper's eyes widened in irritation. "Why are you so quick to jump to the conclusion I'm crazy?" he asked, raisings his hands and shaking them next to his head. "That I'm dangerous, I'm out of control?!"
He felt the anger drain from him when he realized he'd just starting swinging his arms wildly. "It's 'cause I'm kinda acting that way, aren't I?" he mumbled.
Harper stepped farther away from the doctor and began to pace near the wall. He ran a hand across the white material. "I just… I just need to get these drugs out of my system. Look, Doc, I know you probably hear this from patients all the time, but I think I'm cured."
Keenan smiled again, this time his eyes light with a touch of humor. "You're right, I hear it all the time. I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. You don't get well from schizophrenia overnight."
Harper approached again. "You do if there was an alien organism inside you making you think that you were sick when you really weren't."
The doctor raised a delicate eyebrow. "And you… found this out how?"
"Machello told me."
The second brow went up. "And Machello is?"
Harper sighed and began to pace again. "He's an old man we met on Kabelea."
"Mr. Harper," Keenan corrected, "you haven't had any visitors besides your shipmates."
"No, of course I haven't," he answered. "Machello's dead." From the look on Doctor Keenan's face, Harper knew he was losing him.
"Dead? Yet he told you there was someone inside you making you appear crazy?" Keenan asked, his temperate voice filled with skepticism.
Harper scratched his head. "Yeah, so that's good point. I wouldn't, uh, I wouldn't buy that if I were you either." He contemplated his next words carefully. "Just do me a favor, okay? Contact the Andromeda, find out if Tyr is sick. If he is… promise me you'll let me talk to Beka Valentine."
Doctor Keenan left the human and walked to his office, mulling over the conversation he'd had with the boy. Obviously the last antipsychotic drug they'd given him hadn't prevented this recent episode. They'd have to start over again with a new medicine. Keenan had never had a challenge such as this, but he would do everything in his power to find something, anything, to help his patient.
When he arrived at his destination the weary Perseid sat down at his desk. He stared a moment at Mr. Harper's medflexi and frowned. He'd never said he was going to contact the Andromeda, per say. He supposed it couldn't hurt to ask of course. Then again, the human was clearly having hallucinations, this time about a dead old man he claimed had being talking to him.
Keenan glanced at his personal vid-communication device atop his table. Was it in his patient's best interest to just ignore the ill ranting? Or did he dare give into the fantasy?
Beka cradled the warm mug of coffee in her hands, savoring the drink's bitter tang in her mouth. It wasn't the time for a load of sweeteners or artificial flavoring. Now she just wanted that burn-your-esophagus-good-to-the-last-swallow-taste.
She was sitting aboard the Eureka Maru, resting comfortably in the pilot's chair and staring out the viewport. There wasn't anything to see of course, besides the glossy metal plating of the Andromeda's walls. She almost wanted to tell Dylan she was leaving for a little while. Not for a great period of time or anything, she didn't want to leave Tyr. But just long enough to clear her head a little, get a little space (literally) between her and what was going on.
She drew in a deep breath and released it. A few years ago she might have done just that. Now… now things were different. She couldn't just run from her problems.
"Beka?"
Valentine turned to see Rommie standing silently behind her. She hadn't even noticed the other's approach.
"What's going on?" Beka asked, her heart quickening just a bit. "Tyr?"
The android shook her dark head. "Actually, it's Harper. His doctor contacted us and said there's been a… change."
Beka was actually surprised by that. She hadn't been expecting any developments with Harper anytime in the near future. "Is he okay?"
"As far as we know he's fine. However, he is asking for you."
Beka raised her coffee mug to her face and swallowed the last of the cooling liquid inside. She placed the cup in an open compartment by her seat for safekeeping and yanked the safety belt across her chest.
"Rommie, have Andromeda open the bay doors." She smiled back at the avatar and added, "And tell Dylan I'm going to see my engineer."
