Chapter 16
Oh East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth.
- Rudyard Kipling, Old Earth
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The three Nietzschean goons led Dylan into a room several corridors down from his and Harper's cell. They instructed him to wait for Felix and then left, leaving him standing in the middle of the chamber. The door wasn't locked, but Dylan knew better than to try and leave. Besides, he wanted answers and he wanted them now.
While he waited, Dylan glanced around and suddenly felt a cold chill settle over him.
This was no ordinary room.
Chains graced the walls and hung from the ceiling. There were chairs with straps and wicked looking buttons. In the corner, a cold metal table fitted with restraints stood, a sinister machine attached to its top. And all around instruments of torture lay like abandoned play things.
Dylan felt sick. Not because he was afraid for himself, but because he knew Harper had spent many, many hours in this room. Dylan couldn't stop himself from imagining the young man here, chained to the ceiling, or strapped to one of those chairs. All manner of images played across him mind, each more gruesome than the next, each trying to explain the injuries he'd seen and the ones Harper had refused to show him.
Off to the side, something caught his eye, and he turned with trepidation. There, rising from the metal deck, was a plain wooden post, thick and square and seemingly out of place in the torture room of a space-going vessel. He couldn't figure out what it might be used for, but he noticed dried blood staining it about a foot and a half from the base. It said nothing about the post's purpose but gut instinct told him it was Harper's blood. In the background, almost lost in the shadows, another, shorter wooden beam lay on the deck.
"Ah, Captain Hunt."
Dylan turned at the sound of Felix's grating voice. Today, the Commander was dressed in robes of deep blue silk. He favored Dylan with a crocodile smile as he sat in his plush chair, a glass of wine in one hand.
"I see you're admiring my play room? Quite nice, isn't it? Your engineer has sure enjoyed it."
Dylan didn't see any reason to grace that twisted comment with a reply. Instead, he changed the subject.
"Why are you keeping us here? What do you want? You can't just hold us here indefinitely; we're Commonwealth citizens! We have rights you know!"
"Ah, see, that's where you're mistaken. On the hypothetical assumption that the Drago-Kazov Empire chooses to even recognize the authority of the Commonwealth, let me explain something to you. You are a citizen; you have rights. Seamus Harper is an escapee from a Dragan slave world. Furthermore, he is my slave. I bought him, I marked him, I own him! He has no rights, and I may do whatever I wish with him."
Felix spoke as though he was explaining this to a very small child, and Dylan felt his blood start to boil.
"So what?" he asked, moving his arms harshly in frustration. "You're just gonna keep me here, locked in that cell, for the next thirty years or so? Meanwhile, you're gonna slowly beat and torture my engineer to death? You know, that sounds like a real intelligent plan! Why didn't I think of that?"
"You seem to possess a liking for the same mindless sarcasm as my slave."
"Thanks," Dylan snarled, "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You know, if he'd learned to curb that tongue while in your service, I maybe wouldn't have had to give him so many lessons in manners these last few days," Felix sighed dramatically.
If Dylan thought it would have done even an ounce of good, he would have decked the Nietzschean. As it was, he tried very, very hard to remain calm.
"The Andromeda will come for us. You have to know that."
"I'm counting on it. In fact, I'm hoping they show up for your trial. It would be a sad day indeed if the Commonwealth you helped restart couldn't be bothered to put in an appearance at your sentencing. It is rather a shame, however, they won't be able to save you from prison. Who would have ever thought the great Captain Hunt would go down for trespassing?"
"And what about Harper," Dylan asked through clenched teeth. "Are you just planning to beat him to death?"
"The thought does have a certain appeal…" Felix drawled and Dylan's face turned dark with anger, "but, don't worry, he will live. The years he spent away from me and on your ship have given the boy a rather large opinion of himself. I'm afraid he had to be taught his place again. Earth Kludges are so brainless; they don't grasp a concept until it has been beaten into them," Felix explained dismissively.
"Harper's not stupid, nor should he have to be taught his place by the likes of you," Dylan stated firmly. He realized his words would make little difference and that he was treading on dangerous ground as far as his own safety was concerned, but he wouldn't stand by and let this man belittle a member of his crew. "Harper is the best engineer I've ever known!"
Felix grinned sinisterly. "You mean was the best engineer. It doesn't matter how smart he might be, he'll never be much good as an engineer again, will he?"
Dylan pictured Harper's broken hands and remembered the red, abused skin around the boy's dataport, and he suddenly knew some of Harper's injuries were not just random. Felix had deliberately taken away Harper's ability to do the one thing he loved more than anything. In the end, he might just as well have killed the young man. True, with prompt care and treatment, many of the wounds could be healed, but that would never happen while he and Harper remained in Felix's custody.
Still fighting desperately to remain calm when all he really wanted to do was strangle the gloating Nietzschean, Dylan asked hotly, "If you aren't going to beat him to death and you've destroyed his ability to work as an engineer, what are you planning to do with Mr. Harper?"
"You really are in no position to make demands like that, you know Captain? At any second, with the simple flick of a finger, I could have you strung up and in more pain than you could ever imagine. However, since you amuse me, I'll indulge your little fantasy of authority and answer your questions," Felix laughed. "Seamus Harper is my slave; a slave that thumbed his nose at my care and protection once by running away. That act sealed his fate. He shall now be sent to labor in the mines until such time as his pitiful little body succumbs to the effort and he dies. His life will be one of weariness and pain, so others may see what happens to those who would dare defy their betters!"
Felix's tone had started out lightly but rose in strength and fervor with each new sentence until he was practically growling by the last syllable. His words also caused Dylan's insides to twist painfully, and he had to resist the urge to start pacing. They were in a bad situation, but Harper's was going to get a lot worse really soon if he didn't manage to do something about it. The Andromeda would come, but he had no way of knowing if they would get there in time, and once they lost Harper down in those mines Dylan knew they'd never get him out alive again. Especially not if he was the only one who knew the young man's whereabouts and he was left rotting in some Uber prison.
"What if I go in his place?" Dylan finally asked, giving voice to the only option he had.
"What?" Felix asked, clearly not expecting that.
"I said, what if I go to the mines, in Harper's place?" Dylan repeated, looking Felix straight in the eyes. Harper wouldn't last through two weeks of hard labor in his current condition, but Dylan could probably hold out until the cavalry arrived.
The stunned look remained on the Nietzschean's face all of two more seconds before he threw back his head and laughed.
"Oh, how touching! The mighty Dylan Hunt protecting the worthless little Kludge! I could write a novel; a real tear-jerker!" Felix paused and finally stood up, invading Dylan's personal space. "Unfortunately, I am not a writer. I'm a Commander in the Drago-Kazov Empire, and I will not be made a fool of by one pathetic slave! He's a slave! Nothing more than dust that breathes and exists for greater forces and minds to use and control. He will serve his purpose, and you will not deprive him of that."
Frustrated, out of options, and very mad, Dylan threw out his last plan. It was a horrible idea, really, and would hardly save Harper at all, but it was all he had left. Plan B always sucked…
"Then let me go with him. You and I both know that he won't last a week on his own and with his injuries. But with help, he might survive a lot longer."
"You, Captain Dylan Hunt, would willingly be sent to the mines, just to help one half-dead Kludge? For one child you would sell yourself into slavery?"
"Yes!" Dylan practically shouted. "I just told you that! Are you deaf or do you just enjoy hearing me repeat myself? Since you didn't get it the first time, I will say it again. Let me go with Harper, wherever it is you're sending him, and you'll not only get a slave that will live longer, you'll get two slaves for the price of one."
Felix didn't respond, not even to the blatant jabs. Dylan held his breath as the man circled him, studying him thoroughly. The captain was playing on the Niet's inborn arrogance and betting all he had on the hope that the commander would be unable to resist the lure of a Commonwealth captain as his slave. If it didn't work, Harper would almost certainly be lost to him and the rest of the crew forever.
"I like it," Felix finally said. "Prison would be such a waste, anyway. Besides, never before has a person of such high status begged me to make them my slave. How could I resist?"
With the touch of a button, two guards appeared. They forced Dylan to his knees while Felix retrieved a tool from one of the many trays scattered around the room. Dylan gritted his teeth at the forced humility but kept quiet. While the goons held him still, Felix roughly grabbed his hair and titled his head to the right. One biting pain later and Dylan had his very own slave tag attached to his left ear, just like Harper.
"You do realize you've just sold your soul to me, do you not, Captain? Oh wait…you aren't a captain anymore, are you? You're just a slave! And as my slave, Dylan, I assure you I will no longer tolerate your delusions of grander and reckless words! Think carefully before you speak or act now, or you may find both yourself and the Kludge suffering for your lack of restraint!"
That said, he roughly released Dylan's head. "Take him back to the cell for now," he instructed the guards. "We will arrive at Rellim within the day, but let them enjoy their last moments of leisure time as best they can while they ponder their new lives."