Chapter 2: You know I know you know I know you know

There are no facts, only interpretations.

from Nietzsche's Nachlass

"I'm not going to ask, but…" Beka felt her throat went absolutely dry. "You did check it more than… twice?"

Trance nodded. Beka let out a long sight.

"I wouldn't call it a rape, you know?" she started talking, just for the sake of it. Because Trance was listening. Because it was Trance, not anyone else. "I wanted it. I wanted it very, very much. I guess… I guess it could be said that I seduced him. Imagine that? He once said that he could never feel attracted to a human female. Well, think again, you selfish…"

She took a deep breath.

"But I don't understand. I was protected. I always am."

Don't want to repeat the mistake of mommy dearest.

"How could he… How could it…"

Trance still had that reassuring smile of hers, but no answers.

"Nietzscheans." Beka almost spat the word out.

"Oh. Oh, no, Beka," Trance waved her hands. "Do not blame the whole race for one man's sins. Don't let the anger blind you… you see this as a curse, but you can also see this… as a miracle."

"A miracle!" Beka sat up straight. "Made pregnant by a treacherous chauvinistic bastard! Oh, yeah, some miracle! Thank you, I'll pass!"

Trance's eyes widened.

"Beka… You are not thinking of…?"

"Getting rid of this…?" Beka asked furiously and than slowly began to calm down. "No." She said eventually. "I can't. I'm not…"

Trance embraced her and for a brief moment Beka felt warmth, a pleasant, sedative sensation that eased the tension she was harboring the entire day.

"Don't tell anyone, ok?" she muttered.

Trance took a step back.

"It will show, in three months or so," she reminded. "And you must be very careful. Do not overwork yourself."

"Don't tell anyone," Beka repeated. "Please?"

"Until it shows."

"Well, then it's another story, now is it?"

"Boss. What an unusual… Choice of meal."

Two weeks have passed and no one noticed, though Beka suspected that Rommie knew from the start. And now this. Harper. In a canteen.

"Fried eggs with jam. Unusual indeed," Dylan sat at the other side of the table. Funny. She was trying to eat at times when the other senior crew members were busy. And now… They all happened to turn up here, just when she was having her very own fried eggs with jam…

"And pickles," added Harper. "Boss, are you pregnant?"

And he laughed. It was supposed to be a joke.

She laughed back.

"Good one, Harper. You've outdone yourself this time."

They were all giggling, a much needed moment of rest. Beka relaxed a little, smile fixed on her face, eyeing the group gathered around her. Just in case.

She caught Rhade's gaze. He was smiling, true. But there was something… Odd. The way he looked at her… Didn't evade the stare she gave him… Maybe he knew? Maybe the Nietzscheans had their own ways of recognizing a pregnant female? Maybe it was the pheromones, whatever.

Beka ate only the pickles, chatted for a while about subjects absolutely mundane, got inexplicably grateful to Trance who also ordered eggs with jam (which surprised everyone, as she was seen only consuming alcohol) and stated they were delicious. Then she excused herself and left.

One positive thing: the nausea did disappear almost completely in the past week.

The smell on the drift made her sick. Again. It didn't bother her in the past, but in her current state… It was horrible. For once she knew how a Nietzschean feels in such environment and she kind of felt sorry for Rhade. Kind of.

Dylan send them on the Maru to buy some supplies for Andromeda; Harper gave a long list of spare parts that were 'absolutely essential' but was not so eager to come along. Rhade offered his presence and there they were, on a stinking drift, with Beka hoping not to puke anytime soon.

The Nighsider they were talking to seemed very undecided. Beka was sure he was lying and really didn't have half the things he promised to sell. Still, there was a fair chance of cutting some sort of a deal. Not perfectly lucrative, but beggars can't be choosers. And the bar they were sitting in had quite good music.

The Nightsider was shooting Rhade suspicious glances, nervous like a pack of rats.

"He growled at me."

Beka sighted.

"I'm sure he did not. It's just the regular way he looks like. Sulky. Now," she waved her hand in front of Nightsider's face to get his attention, "look. Here. Thank you. Now. Do you have the thing or not?"

"I… I need to check. Be right back."

Beka turned around to face Rhade.

"You are scaring the merchants," she noticed. "Quit doing that."

And before he could answer, she ordered a drink from a passing waitress (dressed like a porn star in a very, very low budget home movie… Or something Harper would come up with for his dream erotic fantasy). When the glass filled with brownish liquid arrived on the table in front of her, she reached for it. Maybe – just maybe – it will soothe her sore stomach.

Rhade grabbed her by the wrist.

"You should watch that," he said. "You may harm the baby."

Beka froze. She could react in many ways. She thought of shouting at him: what are you talking about? How dare you insinuate such a thing? Are you crazy?... But it was pointless. The grip on her wrist was firm but gentle. And there was genuine concern in his voice.

"You know," she stated the obvious.

"Actually, you've just proven this to me," he explained and it really made her furious. "I was not completely sure before."

She jerked the hand of his grip and stood up. "You double-faced… You sneaky… You… You…" suddenly out of words, she stormed out of the bar, leaving him at the table, with quite puzzled expression on his face.

She was walking fast, not paying much attention where she was going and that was the first mistake. No, wait. The first mistake was getting out of the bar. Wandering into the shabbiest part of the drift was the second.

Stupid Rhade! Stupid Beka. Oh, when did you became so gullible, Valentine? Next time you know it you'll be telling everyone about your mum. And showing pictures.

"Something for the crippled?..."

A short man stood before her, dressed in rags, head covered by an ugly, large hat. He stunk, but that was nothing new on this drift.

"Sorry," she replied, trying to walk past him. "Not today."

"I'm sure you can find something…" a voice from behind made her turn and then a hand grabbed her and pushed to the wall.

Nice, Valentine. Really nice.

She reached for the gun, couldn't grab it, so she settled for hands. She plunged her elbow into the man's stomach. He let out a mumbled curse and his grip on her loosened a bit. But there was another one.

Come on, Valentine. You were in worse mess that this one. Don't be a whinny.

She kicked him hard in the groin and watched him bend in two with sadistic satisfaction.

That's what you get, you son of…

A third one. She didn't notice. Still held by the weight of the one she punched, she couldn't move much. And the third man was approaching, with a smile that was showing the all three teeth he still had. He also had a knife.

Damn it, Beka. You really are a whinny.

Someone grabbed her attacker and threw him on the opposite wall, as if he was rag doll. He hit the metal with a loud thud and finally laid underneath, limp.

Beka pushed the moaning would-be-rapist away from her and sighted with relief when his weight was lifted. She looked up to see Rhade, his hand reaching to her.

"Thanks," she muttered. But she didn't take the hand. "Let's get out of here."

"The hormones," he said with a smirk and she looked at him puzzled. "I knew you were pregnant because of the hormones. Still, I couldn't resist."

He started to walk away. She needed a moment to sink the words in. Then she run after him. "What!"

He kept on walking, but at a reasonable pace so that she would not end up panting. "If you really want to keep this fact a secret for as long as it is possible, Rebecca," he raised an eyebrow, "you should work on your reactions. And by the way… Alcohol is bad for the child."

Somehow all the insults she knew were too mild.

Out of the shadows, a man was watching, quietly. The Nietzscheans had supreme hearing and he didn't want to be detected. Not now. Not when he's finally found what he's been paid to find.

He checked if the visual evidence was recorded. He watched the clip again than froze it and touched the screen gently.

Everything will work out. Now that he found her.