Chapter 8

"Discovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen
and thinking what nobody has thought."

-Albert von Szent-Gyorgyi


Harper clutched his sore ribs, stubbornly refusing to look over at the tray of food placed near the door.

If he did… they won.

They might be bigger than him but they couldn't beat him in a full out mental game. There was no way these two Perseids morons, under the mistaken impression of being big and tough, would prevail in this contest. He'd seen horrors they'd only heard about in folk tales. He'd had blinking contests with homicidal Nietzscheans and faced bloodthirsty Magog. The monsters under their little Perseid beds had at one time been his oh-too-real reality.

The aides had paid him another visit again, roughing him up a little, re-injuring his already tender wrist. This time he had a lovely collection of bruises across the skin over his ribcage. He thought about telling someone, a nurse, doctor Keenan. But even if he did, who knew how many friends they had in the hospital. They might leave, only to be replaced by someone worse. He'd take his chances with Uno and Dos. So far they hadn't done him any serious harm. So far being the key phrase.

Uno had left the tray of food, telling him that if he ate any they would start breaking fingers and tell the doctors he'd attacked them. Not that he wanted the mush. This was the fifth meal in the past day they'd done this to. They'd leave the tray and recollect it later, dumping the contents. If a nurse saw it… well obviously the patient was refusing to eat. Yesterday he'd only had a little piece of fruit, a kind of Perseid unleavened bread, and water.

Harper bit his lip. While it didn't look good, whatever it was didn't smell half bad. After all, he hadn't had anything since early yesterday and it was late afternoon now. Just a little bite was all he… Harper looked away, tightening the hold on his abdomen.

The door to his cell… room… whatever it was, slid opened and Seamus held in a groan. He should have just taken the food, to hell with the consequences. Now it was too late.

"Hi, Harper, heard you wanted to see me."

Seamus swung his head towards the voice, nearly giving himself whiplash. The quick action left him a little dizzy but it was nothing compared to what stood before him. Harper had seen some beautiful things in his life, but to witness Beka Valentine standing there, haloed in the outside corridor's light, was a damn near religious experience for him.

"Boss!" Harper exclaimed, jumping to his feet. The dizziness and hunger were still there but he ignored them. He started for her only to realize that she'd taken a step back. Away from him.

He stopped his forward movement, forehead wrinkling. "Look, uh, Beka… you don't need to ah, walk on eggshells any more. I'm all better."

"So I heard," Beka said. She hadn't moved towards him, but she hadn't moved away either. "Ah, it's not that I doubt you but… why do you think it's happened all of sudden? Your getting better I mean?"

Harper turned from her and began to pace. "Well, I don't really understand it myself, but… I saw something come out of me and go into Tyr. And then I heard Machello's voice…"

"Machello?" Beka asked, crossing her arms. "As in, the very dead Machello?"

He nodded and put out his hands towards her, palms up, explaining. "Just, just hear me out, okay? I'm guessing it wasn't actually him him. It was probably some sort of technological or organic recording. It said something about delivering Machello to the vile Nietzschean, which made me start thinking that maybe I had some sort of… Nietzschean killing device inside of me. One of Machello's inventions."

"And that's what made you…" Beka circled a finger around her temple, "nuts?"

"Well, since I'm obviously not an Uber, a side effect of this invention must make normal people act like they're… you know."

"Nuts?" Valentine mouthed.

Harper sighed. "Schizophrenic, Bek. Look, Tyr's sick, right?"

Beka nodded.

"Well, last I checked… wasn't he a Nietzschean?"


Beka Valentine sighed, realizing she wasn't getting through. "Look, Doc," she said, "I know this is going against everything you've been taught… but I trust him."

Keenan folded his gray hands together and lay them on his desk. "Captain Valentine, I understand that you trust him, and that he is your friend, but as a medical professional I can tell you that what you're implying is impossible."

Beka paced before the doctor's desk. "Look, I know this all sounds crazy, pardon the pun, but my gut is telling me to listen to him. How did he know about Tyr's illness? Did you tell him?"

"No," Keenan admitted. "When Mr. Harper asked me to contact the Andromeda Ascendant, I was not aware of your friend's sickness."

Valentine approached he Perseid's desk and placed both hands atop it. She leaned forward, face to face with the doctor. "Don't you see?" she asked. "That was too much of a coincidence. There was no way to know unless he was telling the truth. I need to take him back to Andromeda and you're the one who can help me with that."

"I…"

"Please," Beka interrupted. "If this is all true, Harper could be our only link to helping Tyr. He's running out of time and even the Perseids you sent can't help him. We need Harper."

Everything in Keenan's mind told him to ignore the human's suggestion. She was acting irrationally. She only thought her friend was better, simply because his symptoms had temporarily reclined. Keenan's heart, nevertheless, was telling him to believe her. He couldn't deny that something had happened to Mr. Harper, a change, be it for better or worse. But she seemed adamant that he could be the one to help their Nietzscheanfriend.

Perhaps some things could not be answered with mere science alone. Keenan had never understood how Wayists were able to put their trust in something they couldn't see. They believed in something, had faith in something, that was for all purposes invisible to the eye. At one time he had thought them naïve for holding such beliefs over rational science. The more he thought about it now, the more he realized perhaps it wasn't they who were the closed minded ones. To have trust in something you couldn't see was more powerful than anything in a medical flexi. It was people like himself, scientists who denied anything that wasn't based on some principal or law of physics or medicine, who weren't willing to look beyond the normal.

Keenan looked up at the human. "I.."

'What are you doing?' his brain demanded. 'She can't be right! It's impossible!'

'Listen to her!' his conscience insisted. 'For once, take a leap of faith!'

He swallowed hard and found himself nodding. "I will get his paperwork ready for discharge."9;'Fool,' his brain taunted while another part of him just smiled.


Harper tugged his pants up some more and then weaved the belt into the appropriate loops along his waist. He grabbed a clean undershirt and slipped it over his head (Beka had had some of his extra, older clothing on the and then slid on a blue Hawaiian shirt on top of that. He hadn't worn any of these in years. He missed them. They had always set him apart from the crew, even Beka and Tyr whose outfits hadn't been exactly High Guard issue either.

Harper looked down to make sure his fly was zipped one last time and then proceeded out the door of the doctors' locker room to where Beka stood waiting. He put on a lopsided grin as she turned towards him.

"What?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Just happy you're real. Now, can we get out of here?"

Valentine smiled a bit too and patted him on the back, motioning him forward. Harper tried not to let the pain of the blow show. He'd forgotten that Uno had taken pleasure in planting a foot on his shoulder once while he'd struggled with them. Just another bruise for the later inventory.

Ten minutes later, after they arrived in the docking bays via taxi transport, and the Maru was quickly prepped for take off. Harper thought about riding up front with Beka but decided to make a beeline for his bunk. The last dose of drugs they'd given him had only been a few hours ago and he was still feeling the effects. Beka had looked concerned when he had asked to go but he told her he hadn't gotten much sleep and would be fine in a little while. It was a half-truth anyway.

Harper plopped down on his bunk as the engines deep within the Maru began to hum. He planted his face in his pillow, inhaling deeply. He'd been in that room too long. No pillows, no blankets. Just padded floor that really wasn't all that padded come to think of it. He was surprised that he didn't have a giant crick in the neck after sleeping there for so many nights.

How many days had he been in there anyway? It probably hadn't been more than five or six, but it felt like eons had passed. Harper knew the ride back to Andromeda wouldn't be long but he closed his eyes anyway. He was asleep before the Maru even began moving.


Beka was unstrapping herself from the pilot's chair as the ship's com on the console came to life.

"It's Dylan, Beka. Do you have Harper?"

"Yup, he's here," she answered. "Well, here as in that he's on the Maru. He's in his bunk right now. He said he hadn't been getting much sleep. If docking with Andromeda didn't wake him, I'd like to let him sleep for maybe a hour or so."

Beka could hear the unease in Dylan's tone. "I understand he may be tired but we need to get him to tell us more about Machello."

Beka crossed her arms. "I know the circumstances. I won't let him stay out of it for long. I really think he needs it, Dylan."

"All right," Hunt conceded.

"How's Tyr?"

"As well as can be expected. He's currently on a ventilator to sustain his breathing. Trance has also started him on dialysis for his kidneys. They seem to be keeping him alive for the moment. The nanobots have been ineffectual so far in repairing any of the damage."

Beka nodded, though she knew Dylan couldn't see her movements. "I'll be on Command shortly. Maru out."

Beka pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes tightly, blocking out the light. She could only pray that Harper would be able to give them a good enough start at identifying something to help Tyr. He was quite literally their last hope. The Perseids had insisted Tyr be brought to Sinti for treatment but Trance was convinced that his best chance for survival was aboard the Andromeda. Besides, the war ship was more than adequately equipped for a full-blown medical emergency. If Tyr couldn't be helped aboard the top of the line High Guard vessel like Andromeda, he wasn't going to stand any more of a chance in some on-planet hospital.

"Beka?"

Beka opened her eyes and turned to see Harper standing in the doorway.

"Hey," she greeted. "I thought you were going to take a nap?"

Harper shrugged. "Oh, you know, couldn't sleep."

Something in his eyes told her he was lying to her, but she wouldn't confront him now about it. He looked too worn for it. She was already beginning to feel the tendrils of guilt work their way around her conscious. She didn't think it would really hit her what they had all allowed him to go through until later. But when it did… well, she'd cross that bridge when the time came. Right now their focus had to be on Tyr. Later they could think about everything else.

"Can I see Tyr?" Harper asked.

Beka gently smiled. "Sure."


"Your dopamine levels are back to normal."

Harper looked up from his vigil over Tyr to stare at Trance. "I'm back to normal."

Trance nodded though stepped away from him slightly, sensing his frustration.

"All right, Harper," Rommie said, breaking the tension, "let's say your concept about Machello's killing invention is right. Why did it take so long to go into Tyr?"

"I don't know. Maybe it needed a close proximity to sense he was Nietzschean," Seamus answered. He could see from Rommie's face that his creation didn't seem entirely convinced. He had given her the ability to look skeptical and she was definitely doing a damn good job of it.

"Look, I had a lot of time locked in that little white room to think about this. It makes sense. Why am I back to normal? And, coincidentally, hours after touching me, Tyr is sick?"

"Why didn't I get sick when we were playing cards the other night and you were jumping all over me?" Beka asked.

Harper unintentionally found himself glaring. "Because last I heard you weren't an Uber."

Beka opened her mouth to retort but Trance cut back into the conversation. "All right, Harper, listen to me. We ran every test and scan we have. He even had a full blood work up. There's been nothing foreign detected in Tyr."

"It's there!" Harper insisted. "I know it is… I saw it go into him. It was small, about the size of a luminara worm."

"Harper, those bodies on Dorran had been there for years," Rommie said. "We know from what little information we could collect from the Kabelean government that from Machello hadn't been off planet for nearly twenty years before we found him. He wasn't anywhere near Dorran when those Nietzscheans died."

Harper began to pace next to Tyr's bed. "So he created those devices thirty years ago before the Limvris held their little shindig. All he had to do was get someone to plant them there for him. Some human slave who had access to their supplies. Then the Niets walk into their meeting and…"

Beka hopped off the empty medical bed she'd been perched on. "… boom… Like a land mine."

"Yes!" Harper exclaimed. "World War Four mines are still going off on Earth today even though the soldiers that planted them croaked a long time ago. Trance, can I access Andromeda's database from that console over there?" He pointed to an out of the way monitor.

Trance nodded and Harper went to the touch pad, his hands flying fast over the panel. "Remember when the Kabelean government carted off all of Machello's devices? I kept an inventory of it on file on Andromeda. I thought maybe one day I'd be able to figure out Machello's code. I want to see if I can pull up anything familiar."

Harper accessed the file he was searching for and found a photo directory of all of the items recovered from Machello's. He breezed through the images rapidly, looking for something that could have been their mine.

Suddenly Trance yelled, "Stop!" and the image on screen froze.

Harper felt his eyes widen. It was a datapad. "Damn," he muttered. "I picked one of those up in the Limvris chamber."

Rommie stepped up next to Harper and typed something on the controls. Another image appeared, this time it was of twelve datapads that had been removed from a crate in Machello's lab.

"That's a lot of datapads for one guy," Beka responded, joining the others. "I think we may have just found our land mine."