Chapter 6
„Dylan, open up!" After having knocked on that damned door for the better part of the past fifteen minutes, Beka Valentine was finally losing her patience. Remembering Rommie telling them that he had went for a shower, she had decided to let half an hour pass before showing up in front of his quarters. She then had politely knocked several times, but no one had responded. So now she was recurring to yelling. Nobody spent forty-five minutes in the shower.
„Beka!" Andromeda's hologram flickered next to her into being.
„Ah, Andromeda, good. Dylan doesn't answer," Beka started complaining, „so please, open the door."
„I can't do that, Beka, he's engaged privacy mode."
„Yeah, well, never mind that, I really, really do have to see him."
„Why?"
Beka stared at the hologram, mouth agape. Why indeed? As a matter of fact, she couldn't truly explain why she felt such urgency to talk to Dylan Hunt. She only knew that she simply had to see him on the spot. The conversation she had planned to have with him before she had met with Harper, had seemed pretty important then. Now, it just seemed vital. A stern determination turned Beka's blue eyes into shining pieces of polished steel.
„I'm not discussing this with you, Rommie. Open the door!"
„Beka, listen..."
„Privacy mode disengaged, dammit! Authorization First Officer and Acting Captain Rebekkah Valentine."
„You've turned command over to Harper for the time being."
„Andromeda!"
„Very well... Ma'am." The AI's voice showed no hint of emotion. But there was a small, insolent sound in the way she had stressed her ‚Ma'am'.
The doors slid open with a hiss. Beka peered around her into the room as she stepped closer. Dylan's living was empty, as tidy as always and with only a dim light left on from a lamp placed on a sideboard. Dylan should think about getting himself a life, a hobby, a pet, something, Beka thought noticing the unlived-in order of the place. The pilot silently crossed the large space to the bedroom door, that was left open, revealing a room that seemed to be completely in the dark. There was but a slim line of brightness, that penetrated from a crack of the opening leading to the bathroom. Other than that, there was no light, no sound, no move. Her eyes adjusting to the darkness, Beka began to search the space for any trace of Dylan, and, although she had come in expecting to find him, she almost gave a startled shriek when she finally discovered him seated on the floor in the left corner of his bedroom, dressed in some shorts and and a sweater. He was as still as a statue. His feet were bare, his knees brought up to his chest, his hands hanging lifelessly between them, while his eyes were locked in distance somewhere across his bed in a blind glare. He was obviously oblivious to the fact that there now was another presence in the room.
Beka took a few steps into the room, carefully approaching him, as her hand reached out for his shoulder.
„Dylan...?"
He almost jumped to attention and would have knocked her over, had it not been for her quick pilot's reflexes. She stood back just in time.
„Wow, Dylan, hold it... I'm sorry! I didn't want to startle you..." she said a little short of breath.
„Beka!" he exclaimed, keeping his voice low though, as his eyes focussed in on her. He leaned a hand against the wall, a little bit off balance. „What are you doing here?"
„Scaring you, obviously," she laughed to ease the tension. „May I switch on the lights?"
„Sure, yeah, go ahead!"
„Andromeda, please light up the place." The sudden brightness made both of them close their eyes. „Moderately please," Beka quickly added upon hearing Dylan groan as if in pain. The lights were dimmed until only the bedlights and a tall, elegant lamp next to a black leather chaiselongue were still shining, bathing the room in a warm shade of amber. She threw a quick glance around her, realising that it was the first time in four years that she had entered the captain's bedroom. As women in this universe go, I must be one of the very few, an ironic thought crossed her mind. It was sparely, yet luxuriously furnished, with a comfortable looking large bed and, on the opposite wall, shelves reaching up from floor to ceiling, displaying an amazing amount of personal items such as photos, art objects etc. as well as a very, very large number of books. The contrast to the other room could not have been greater.
„You read books?"
„Well, yes, I guess..."
„You guess?"
„Okay, I read," he addmitted with an embarrassed shrug as if caught in the act of some strange behaviour.
Beka was still contemplating the space in front of her.
„Nice. Very, very nice!"
The walls were decorated with abstract and not so abstract paintings, and there was a superb carpet laid out on the floor.
„Tarn Vedra?" she asked, getting down on one knee and letting one of her hands run along the soft weaving.
„No," he said flatly. His eyes were avoiding her questioning look, but he finally gave in and answered her. „It's a Kars-Kazak."
"Nietzschean?"
He shook his head. "Terran."
„Terran? As in Earth?"
„Quite."
„Wow! You know, from what I know from Harper about it, I would never have related the place with arts and crafts."
„It wasn't always like that," Dylan stated, his voice still toneless.
„So it seems," Beka nodded and stood up again. An uneasy silence began to settle in between the two of them, a silence Dylan clearly couldn't stand at the moment.
„The Earth I knew," he started to explain, the words leaving his mouth as if being dragged out by force, „it was actually a cradle of arts and crafts and science. They didn't do much else. Economy, politics, military were mostly up to the Commonwealth. I guess this was one of the reasons why Magog and Nietzscheans found the place so easy to conquer." He briefly shut his eyes. „Anyway, they had this ancient weaving tradition in Eurasia, their largest continent," he continued. „They called it Persian, but it really was practiced all over the place. There was an amazing variety of shapes and colours and mo..." his voice trailed off and lost itself midword.
„Beka," he finally asked after a few more moments spent in silence, „why are you here? Surely you didn't override the privacy mode to discuss my taste in decorating..."
„I think we need to talk."
Dylan just glared at her. He hadn't left his corner, hadn't offered her a drink, hadn't asked her to sit down. She saw him close his eyes again and frowning in a pained expression, that sat his jaw square, cutting deep lines into his normally rather handsome face.
„Look, Beka," he said lamely, „if it's still about Harper, I don't know what more to say to him – or you, for that matter. But I will think of something, I promise, just... Just not now!"
„It's not about Harper, it's about you!"
„Me?"
„Yes, you. And me. And all the others."
„Oh, good. You had me scared there for a second, thinking it was something serious," he attempted to joke. She didn't smile, so he shrugged in the manner of a man who knows he's losing the fight, but cares no longer. „Very well, go ahead. Talk away. Where do you want us to start?"
„By going next door and you offering me a seat?"
„Of course, I'm sorry. Lead the way."
Beka turned around and headed for the sitting room, a little enraged by Dylan's still rather abrupt manners. She never made it to the door, though. The sudden sound of breaking glass made her spin around. Dylan was on his knees, leaning one hand against the wall in a late attempt to steady himself, panting, his face ashen and covered with a thin layer of sweat. He had obviously been stumbling over a small glass table next to the wall, falling on top of it, his weight shattering it into thousand tiny pieces. There was a small puddle of blood slowly growing larger under him, so she figured that he must have cut his knees, legs and feet with the splinters.
„Trance," Beka bellowed, as she activated her comm-link and ran to him. „Captain's quarters, and make it fast!" She reached him just in time to prevent him from falling flat on his face.
„Come on, big guy, hang in there! Dylan! Dylan, what's wrong?"
„I don't know," he stammered. „I'm... headache... nausea... Don't worry... I'll be fine..." he slurred, his eyes almost shut. „I'm just tired, Beka, so tired..." His head sank down on her shoulder, his eyes glazed and closing fast, yet not fast enough for her to miss a tiny hint of fear in them. Struggling to keep him upright, Beka pleaded with him to hold on.
They couldn't have spent more than a couple of minutes like this, until Trance rushed through the door with Rommie hard on her heels. They shoved the by now almost frantic captain of the Maru out of the way and helped the still conscious Dylan to his feet, marching him over to the bed and forcing him to lay down.
„What's wrong with him, Trance? What's the matter?"
„Beka, calm down," the golden alien said, as she quickly ran some tests on the quite man. „There is nothing wrong with him, these are just some aftereffects of the radiation." She finished her scans and pressed a spray against her patient's neck. „It was to be expected. He simply didn't allow his body the time it needed for a complete recovery." Trance shot a worried glance over to Beka, who stood there watching her like a hawk. She furtively nodded to Rommie, who walked over to her XO and put an arm across her shoulders.
„Beka, please," the android calmly addressed her, gently rubbing the pilot's upperarm in an attempt to soothe her. „You're overreacting. Everything will be just fine. It's not as if this is the first time something like that happens. Dylan's going to be all right."
„I thought he was going to die, Rommie. I thought he was going to die without knowing that we care..."
„Beka, you're not making sense. Of course he knows we care. Come on now, calm down, will you?" the avatar whispered gently in her ear.
Her eyes still locked on Dylan's face, Beka sighed in relief as she watched him slowly open his eyes. She slightly turned her head towards Rommie, yet still refused to let the man on the bed out of her sight.
„Thank you, Rommie, I'm fine," she told her.
A wince coming from the bed prevented her from continuing. She quickly focused her attention back on Dylan, where Trance had begun to extract the splinters embedded all over the place in his knees and below. Smiling about herself, Beka slowly approached Dylan from the other side of his bed and carefully sat down next to him. His eyes turned to her, still showing a small amount of anxiety.
„Hey, sport," she softly called to him, gently removing a thin grey strand mingled with brown hair from his brow.
„Hey," he answered with a somewhat shaken smile, immediately returning to frowning as another splinter was being pulled out of his wade. „Aww," he protested in an indignant tone, that triggered a small laugh out of Beka.
„Come on, tough guy, stop whimpering and let the lady do her job," she rushed him with a smile on her face. „You've been in tougher spots than this."
„Oh yeah? How would you know?" he complained in a fake reproach. „I hate cuts and shots and... Aow!"
„Don't be such a baby, Dylan!"
„Easy for you to say, Miss ‚Dylan, I'd rather sneeze myself to death than drink some tea'," he pressed out through clenched teeth.
„Leave it, both of you," Trance cut in with furrowed brows. „Now, Dylan, I've cleaned and bandaged the cuts on your legs. They're superficial and will heal in no time. As to your passing out on Beka..."
„I did not pass out on Beka," he protested and tried to get up on his elbows.
„As to your passing out on Beka," Trance went on without taking his input into account, while Beka was pushing him back on his pillows, „it would not have happened, had you taken my advice to rest more seriously. You are relieved of command for the next 96 hours, after which you will report to med deck for a scan in order to be cleared for light duty. Did I make myself understood?" she asked as she rose to her feet.
„Aye."
„Good. I'm leaving the medication with you. Rommie, please see to it that he drinks plenty of liquids over the next days. As to the food, you're on a light diet, I'll have someone bring it over to you regularly."
„I can do it," Beka volunteered, much to everyone's surprise, including her own. „I'll see to it that he takes his medicine, drinks, sleeps and eats like a good boy," she broadly grinned, while Dylan rolled his eyes in despair.
„Thank you very much indeed, everybody," he snarled. „Trance, I perfectly understand your prescriptions. I'm sorry that I seemed somewhat... unreliable in this respect over the last days before this..." he waved his hands towards the glass shards Rommie collected in a heap, „this mess happened, but I can take it from here. I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."
Trance Gemini's big brown eyes fixed him with warmth, but she shook her head in a saddened, regretful manner, indicating that there was no way out of the strict control she had imposed on him.
„Oh yes, you're a big boy, who can take care of himself. And lately you've been doing such a fine job with it, too. I'm sorry, Dylan. When you first came back, I asked you to stay put; you refused, insisting to go after Harper and Rhade. On your second return, I ordered you to rest; you promised and went off to repairs. After you're retching in the officers' mess yesterday, I asked you..."
„You retched in the mess?" Beka asked with a disgusted grimace. „Yuck!"
„It was just this awful food," Dylan lamely replied.
„Good grief, Dylan," Rommie fell in, sounding rather offended. „I never reckoned you were a gourmet, why didn't you say? I would have asked Harper to make improving my cooking bots' skills a higher priority."
„Why, Rommie..." Dylan began to excuse himself, but stopped when he saw the grins beginning to spread across the faces of the three ladies surrounding his bed. „Oh, okay, I get it. Having fun with a sick man, aren't you?"
Trance leaned over and patted him lightly on the cheek.
„'Sick man' being the operative words here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a recovered Nietzschean in sick bay to be cleared for duty. Rommie, please monitor Dylan all the time and keep me posted. Beka, just one more word with you, please."
Tbc
