Chapter 41

Draw a crazy picture,
Write a nutty poem,
Sing a mumble-gumble song,
Whistle through your comb.
Do a loony-goony dance
'Cross the kitchen floor,
Put something silly in the world
That ain't been there before.

- Shel Silverstein

00000

It was only through sheer will-power that Dylan got Twig and Harper into the barrack without killing the young engineer. Curfew sounded while he was trying to drag Harper away from the imaginary slipstream coil he was fixing. It was at least an hour early, something that put Dylan even more on edge. If the Nietzscheans were locking them in early, there was definitely something freaky going on.

And once inside, it became clear this was an even bigger incident than he'd first thought. It was immediately evident that two others slaves were in the same boat as Harper and Twig. One was rocking back and forth in the corner, talking non-stop to himself, and the other was racing up and down the center of the barrack, yelling loudly.

"Whoo hoo!" Harper shouted. "Are we having a party? Hot diggity, break out the beer!" And off he went to join in, twisting out of Dylan's grasp.

"Harper, come back! You can't –"

Dylan's warning was pointless as Harper tripped over his chains and fell flat on his face after only two steps. He came up grinning. "Watch that first step; it's a doozie!" He got gracelessly to his feet and lumbered off again, straight into a wall. "Ouch! For the last time, Rommie, turn on the freakin' lights!" he screamed at the ceiling.

All the commotion and yelling were too much for Twig who dissolved into hiccupping sobs once more, clinging to Dylan's shirt.

"They're gonna hurt me…see, they're here to get me! Please don't let them hurt me!" he wailed between gasps for air.

Dylan closed his eyes and breathed deeply while behind him the bars of the prison clanged shut for the night. Then he did the only thing he could think of; he resorted to battle strategies. Divide and conquer.

Peter and Ethan came up and gently extracted their young bunk-mate from his death grip on Dylan's shirt. Whispering quiet, soothing words, they took turns walking the child up and down the barrack since he seemed unable to sit still for longer than a minute or two. Friends of the other wild slave stepped forward and corralled him, playing along with his delusions and moving him to the back half of the barrack. Simon, still weak from his recent illness, took it upon himself to try and calm the other, mumbling slave. This left Dylan free to deal with Harper.

Everyone resigned themselves to a sleepless night.

00000

"…but if we realign the sensors to scan for intermittent signals we can… No, no, that won't work! We gotta boost the sensors not realign them…"

Harper was pacing back and forth, wringing his hands.

"What?" he asked, stopping as if to listen to someone. "No, that won't work either!"

"Harper," Dylan asked tiredly, blocking the engineer's path out of the corner and watching him as he moved and mumbled in his delusions. "Who are you talking to?"

"Hohne!" Harper snapped, "Who did you think I was talking to, the guy's standing right here! Now why won't you let me get out of here and go to work? This whole freakin' ship is falling apart and you won't let me touch it!" he seethed.

"Harper, you're not on the Andromeda," Dylan explained for the fiftieth time. "Why don't you just try and sit still for a bit. I bet Hohne's tired…"

"Dylan, he's a Perseid and it's science. Of course he's not tired!"

"Just thought I'd ask…" Dylan muttered, running a hand across his face.

00000

"Come on, Twig, it's all right," Ethan soothed, rubbing the child's back. Once again, the boy had broken out in sobs; huge, frame-wracking sobs.

"But the (hiccup) Uber in the corner (hiccup) says he's gonna whip me," the boy moaned, his voice raw from crying. At this rate he would cry himself dry long before morning.

"Twig, there is no Uber in here, I promise you," Ethan assured, holding the boy close and rocking him. It reminded him of nights spent comforting his own children, only they weren't high on some unknown drug.

Sitting beside them and fighting his own tiredness, Peter shook his head. "Poor little bloke. It ain't right that they do this, an' on the littlest ones, too…" He sighed. "'ere, let me take 'im for a bit and you can rest for a few minutes."

Reluctantly, Ethan passed Twig over. "He'll probably start going hyper on you any time."

Peter nodded. "Think they'll make it, or will it be like last time?" he couldn't help whispering.

"I don't know…" Ethan answered quietly, sadness in his voice.

"One of these days they're gonna pay for this, mark my words," Peter seethed as the little boy in his arms started to squirm suddenly.

"Quiet," Ethan warned.

00000

"Forty-three bottles of beer on the wall, forty-three bottles of beer…!" Harper screamed at the top of his lungs, rocking back and forth as he sat on the ground.

From the other end of the barrack a voice joined in, loud and off-key.

"Take one down, pass it around, forty-two bottles of beer on the wall!" There was a small pause for breath… "Forty-two bottles of beer on –"

"Oh, shut up!" an angry voice shouted from one of the bunks. "Can't you just make them shut up! We gotta get some sleep here!"

"We should just kill 'em," another voice growled. Dylan recognized it as Erik's. "They're probably gonna die anyway; why should we risk our lives by being over-tired in the mines because they wanna go out with a bang?"

"Are you volunteering for the job?" someone else asked tiredly.

"Maybe… They're annoying little runts," Erik replied. "We'd be better off without them!"

"Silence!"

Except for the afflicted slaves who continued to moan, or sing, all eyes swiveled to Simon who stood shaking in the corner from both anger and illness.

"There will be no more talk like this! You disgust me! The lot of you! These men can't help what's been done to them, and no matter how it ends, we'll treat them like human beings until it happens! Otherwise, we're worse than those that keep us locked in here!"

It worked. The other slaves retreated into their bunks and plugged their ears, trying to sleep.

Dylan continued to watch and guard Harper, the words they're gonna die anyway ringing in his ears. Like a rising tide, relentless and unstoppable, emotions flooded him: dread, terror, fear, grief…building up, growing, consuming…

From opposite ends of the barrack, two abused voices rang out steadily. "Forty-one bottles of beer on the wall, forty-one bottles of beer...!"

00000

"Ahhh! Dylan, I can't see! Why can't I see?" Harper cried, frantically groping around and clawing at the barrack walls. His limbs flailed uncoordinatedly, his hands always pulled to a stop by the short, two-foot chain that connected them, the shackles on his feet tripping him as he tried to run away. For the first time, Harper seemed to notice his chains. Wildly, he jerked his hands and feet against them, his body out of control.

"Get them off of me!" he screamed, yanking on the slave collar around his neck. "DYLAN!" he yelled in terror, "Take it off!"

Dylan grabbed him and pulled him down to the floor. He wrapped his arms around the crazed engineer as best he could with his own wrists trapped, and held him tight to keep the kid from hurting himself more. His breathing was harsh and the boy was sweating rivers.

"Let me go! Who are you? LET ME GO!"

Harper punched and clawed and bit, but Dylan hung on until the young man used up all of the energy he had for the moment.

"Sh, Harper," the exhausted captain coaxed in a strained voice. "Come on; fight your way through this! You have to! Don't let the Ubers win!"

After a few minutes, Harper seemed to recognize his voice and stopped moving and yelling.

"Boss?" he asked hesitantly, his chest still heaving.

"Right here, Harper," Dylan replied, not letting go.

"It's so dark, Boss."

"I know, Harper."

"Why did you put me in chains? Can't you take them off?"

"Sorry, Harper, I can't. I really wish I could, but I can't."

"Where's Beka?" he asked after a moment.

"She's not here right now. She asked me to take care of you."

"She mad at me for getting so…messed up?"

"No, she's not mad at you, Harper. She loves you very much and wants you to fight this so you can get better, okay?"

"Dylan, I don't feel so good…"

00000

"Snakes! Crawling all over me! Get them off me! GET THEM OFF!" He brushed frantically at his clothing, trying to dislodge the swarming creatures that only he could see. "AHHH! Please, oh please, help me! Pleas-"

He stopped as suddenly as if he'd been unplugged. His eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed boneless to the ground.

Hands shook him.

"He's not breathing!"

Fingers groped urgently for a pulse.

There was none to find.