Chapter 62
So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending.
- J.R.R. Tolkien
00000
"Of course we would arrive on some Nietzschean national holiday," said Beka, staring with disbelief at the bustling port city. Their small, ragged group was hiding behind a broken-down warehouse on the outskirts of town, trying to figure a way across to the safety of the Miss Kitty where Rommie and Patch waited. Usually, the town was busy, but today it was practically overflowing.
"What is it that Harper used to say? 'The Universe hates us, deal with it'?" replied Dylan with a weary smile.
"Hey!" cried Harper from where he lay resting by the horses. "No quoting without permission. I should get royalties for that!"
Beka couldn't help but smile at his words, so grateful to see some of the Harper she remembered returning to the wraith-like human figure that her friend had become.
"Add it to my tab," replied Dylan over his shoulder.
A small stab of jealously shot through Beka as she watched the easy camaraderie and friendship that this ordeal had obviously developed between the captain and her engineer, but she quickly pushed it down. She was immensely grateful Dylan had been with Harper during this trip to hell, and she didn't want to begrudge them the one good thing that had come out of it.
"It's not a holiday," said Tyr. "It's a mobilization. They are not doubt responding to the explosion in the mine Captain Hunt and the Little Man witnessed."
"Lovely," replied Beka sarcastically. "Someone wanna tell me exactly who in the great universal scheme of things is so against us getting these guys home?"
"I could give you a list," Harper threw out again before turning away to cough. The medicines they'd been giving him for the last week were working, but he was still very ill and in desperate need of a real doctor.
"Let the trees live instead, boy," Tyr said, shaking his head. "But this may be to our advantage."
"Easier to blend in," added Dylan, and he and Tyr shared a look. Obviously, the two were thinking of the same thing.
"Okay, care to share the brilliant plan with the rest of the class?"
00000
Brilliant plan? Yeah right…
Beka walked swiftly through the crowds, cursing under her breath.
This plan stunk.
Not because it was a particularly bad plan, but because she had to leave Harper and the others and go ahead. She'd just got him back; she wasn't happy to let him out of her sight and leave him to somehow get through the most dangerous part of this rescue with only Tyr there. She was mad and she didn't care who knew it.
"You, human!"
Beka closed her eyes briefly before she turned around.
"What?" she snapped at the large, overly-attractive Niet who was glaring at her. Casually, she slipped her hand to her wrist, pretending to scratch it, and flipped the switch on her communicator. She had no idea if she was close enough to the Miss Kitty for Rommie to pick up her signal in this lame, technology-killing town, but she had a feeling she might need back-up in a minute.
"You're in a restricted area! What are you doing?"
"Look, buddy, I'm not in the mood. My ship's been stuck in port for weeks while I've waited for my incompetent engineer to fix the AG unit, and I just got back from the only shop in this dump and they don't have the part I need until next week. So pardon me if I'm in your precious restricted zone but I was just leaving."
The Niet eyed her suspiciously, almost as though he recognized her from somewhere, and Beka silently cursed Dylan and his high-publicity campaign for the new Commonwealth. She tried to erase all emotions except exasperated annoyance from her face as she turned and kept walking.
"I'll accompany you to your ship," the Uber said with a leer. "Perhaps I can render assistance," he added, feigning helpfulness.
"Whatever," Beka mumbled. Her mind was straining, trying to come up with a plan for what she would do when they arrived at the Miss Kitty and the Nietzschean realized that one, she wasn't the captain, two, she didn't have an engineer, and three, the AG generator was fine. Or worse, what if he was still around or caused a scene as Tyr was trying to bring the others? She couldn't stop her heart from racing at these thoughts and she knew the Niet could hear it. Hopefully, he attributed it to the natural fear all Ubers, especially the ones on this messed up planet, expected humans to exhibit in their presence.
They turned a corner and the docks opened up before them, the Miss Kitty sitting patiently the fifth ship from the right, and still the meddlesome Nietzschean strode haughtily beside her. Beka looked around, weighing her options of just pulling out her gun and shooting him, but while there weren't that many people around, she knew she couldn't risk it. They'd have to blow their way out of port in a hasty exit right away, and Harper and the others would be stranded, probably forever. She'd die before she did that to them again.
No miraculous plan had struck her as she approached the airlock of the waiting ship, and she was starting to panic inside. Maybe they could kidnap the Uber? Force him into the ship and stuff him somewhere to keep him quiet? Dump him on some backwater drift in a few weeks?
Yeah right, who was she kidding? They'd never get out of orbit with a Drago-Kazov as a prisoner. And with Tyr on board, the Uber wouldn't live long enough to be dumped anywhere.
She was only four feet from the ship when the airlock opened and a figure stepped out, leaning lazily against the bulkhead. Beka had to do a double-take before she recognized her. It was Rommie, but like she'd never seen her before. The android was now sporting a mess of blonde hair tied up on top of her head in a knot with a dirty rag and what looked suspiciously like a screwdriver. She was grimy and greasy and barefoot.
"Hey, Cap'n," Rommie said thickly through a mouthful of something she was chewing on. She hitched up the strap of a filthy pair of coveralls on her shoulder and wiped a hand across her forehead, spreading more grease. "Ya git that part, huh?"
"Erm, no, erm…Rommie," Beka sputtered, trying extremely hard not to laugh out loud and ruin this. Rommie had obviously heard the communication and come up with a plan. Dylan and Harper's live might very well depend on her ability to sell this.
"Blasted machine shop won't have it for another week. They had one three days ago if I'd known then we needed it," she groused, glaring at Rommie to help the charade. The hovering Nietzschean was looking less suspicious and increasingly bored, apparently buying their story, but he was still there and Beka needed him gone.
Suddenly, as if she'd willed it to happen, a shout came from the far side of the docks, quickly followed by a din of commotion. Beka, Rommie, and the Uber jerked around in time to see a supply wagon on its side and a runaway team of horses speeding off down a side street, several slaves and their masters alike running after them. Their Niet babysitter rushed to help and Beka seized the opportunity. She jumped inside the airlock, dragging Rommie behind her, and sealed it.
Leaning against the door, she breathed a sigh of relief before eyeing Rommie again.
"After this, there's no way you ever get to criticize my wardrobe again," she said with a snort.
Rommie marched to the recycler and spit out whatever she'd been chewing on in disgust, then pulled the cloth and tool from her hair, shaking it to return it to its normal color and length.
"Hey, I just saved your butt," said the android smugly. "And I remind you I am a warship, so just shut it."
Beka laughed. "Well I'm still raiding the security feed for captures. I know several people who'd want one."
The mood instantly sobered.
"Are they coming?" Rommie asked, her beautiful face showing an incredible amount of worry for a machine.
"They'd better be," said Beka fervently. "We had to split up. Tyr's bringing them"
"How are they?" the avatar asked, all business again.
Beka just shook her head, suddenly fighting tears as she looked away, unable to answer that question.
00000
"Step up slightly in two paces."
Concentrating hard, Harper nodded to show Dylan he'd heard. His feet found the small rise and he managed to navigate it without tripping. Carefully, he continued placing one mangled, chained foot in front of the other, following where he was being led and trying not to freak out.
Hope was a completely terrifying thing! When he'd stood before Felix in his torture chamber he'd been afraid, but that was the fear of one resigned to his fate not of the unknown. When they'd pounded metal through his hands and strung him up to die, he'd been petrified with fear, but it was a weary terror of agony before the inevitable and things left undone. When his sight had been ripped away from him, or he'd been dragged off and dumped in the slave camp, he'd been very frightened, but again it was a doomed man's fear. But hope? The feeling that there might be more than pain and horror waiting for him in the future if he could just live through the next few minutes, if this plan could work out? It took all his willpower to hold it together in the face of such crippling emotion.
This was exactly why he'd had to bury his hope so deep under acceptance in order to survive as a slave; he would have died if he didn't.
"Turn right in five paces," Dylan whispered again.
The engineer nodded again, trying to smother the coughs that wanted to burst out, knowing they'd draw unwanted attention to their group.
Harper had been blind for nearly a year now, but he'd never felt his loss so keenly as now. On the ship, on the forced march, even in the camp, there'd been very few places he could actually go and all the sounds around him, while terrible, had been predictable. But here? He was surrounded by voices and noise, shouts and laughter. Animals snorted and stomped, machines whirred to life, and all of it crashed in confusion on Harper's ears, leaving him disoriented and terrified by the cacophony.
He wanted to hide, more than he'd ever wanted to in his life. Unfortunately, hiding wasn't part of Dylan and Tyr's brilliant plan. No, that plan was the one where Tyr was currently playing the part of Uber Master, riding his horse proudly right through the crowded center of town, leading his three chained slaves, played so well and with lots of realism by Harper, Dylan, and Twig.
Harper felt the rope attached to his wrist manacles tug him to the right slightly and followed it without protest. His crushed hand throbbed painfully, and he missed Tyr's makeshift splint and sling that had protected it for the last few days. Most Nietzschean's didn't carefully bandage their ailing slaves, though, so they'd had to go for a bit. Harper tried to remind himself that even better help and relief was waiting for him if they could just pull this ruse off.
On they went through crowded streets that Harper couldn't see. He could feel Twig's shaking body pressed up against his and wished he could wrap an arm around the boy. This was absolutely terrifying for the kid, moving through these streets full of Nietzscheans, and only his complete trust in Harper and Dylan kept him walking. Harper was almost glad he couldn't see right now; he knew he couldn't have handled seeing Twig's small wrists tied together in front of him, a rope leading from them to Tyr's saddle. It was the only part of this insane plan Dylan had vehemently objected to, until Tyr had coldly forced him to see logic.
The engineer had always hated Dylan's "hide in plain sight" plans. They went against all of his Earth instincts. And this one sucked more than most.
Too bad it was also the only plan they had.
The blanket he was wearing as a poncho to replace his missing shirt slid to one side and Harper hurried to right it with trembling hands, praying the heavy hunk of metal around his neck was still hidden. If the wrong eyes saw it he might as well have a glaring neon sign above his head flashing "escape, escape!"
Finally, they turned a corner and most of the noise stayed behind them. Harper breathed a sigh of extreme relief. His nerves and sanity were in shreds and the strength he'd managed to recover since receiving daily first-aid from Beka and Tyr was fading fast. This was the most walking he'd done in several days and he was reminded of exactly how not healthy he was. He was ready to collapse someplace small and quiet and check out of the world for a while.
"I can see the docks," whispered Dylan after a moment, almost in awe. Harper could hear the desperate hope in his friend's voice as well. The captain longed for an end to all of this as much as he did, and Harper felt that if this plan failed, if they didn't escape, it would probably break Dylan.
"What are you doing?" a harsh voice suddenly demanded from in front of them. Harper knew instinctively that it was an Uber. Tyr's horse stopped, and Harper felt Twig hide behind his shoulder.
"I'm returning with my purchases to my ship," Tyr answered coolly, his voice every bit the haughty alpha.
"There was no slave auction today," the other Niet said stonily. There was silence for a moment, as though the intruder was studying Tyr closely, and Harper found himself holding his breath. "Where are your bone blades?"
"An unfortunate accident in my youth," replied Tyr, menace in his tone.
There was another moment of scrutiny then…
"You're not Drago-Kazov!" Harper heard along with the unmistakable sound of a weapon charging. "You're Tyr Anasazi, the thief who –"
He was cut off mid-sentence by a gauss gun discharge, and Harper heard the now familiar sound of a body hitting the ground.
Guess their charade had just ended.
"His genes were unsound anyway," Tyr growled. "Now we must hurry!" The engineer forced himself into a jog, blindly trusting the others to keep him safe as he concentrated on trying not to pass out, his lungs forcefully reminding him that they were not well at the moment! There was no sound of pursuit yet, but Tyr's act wouldn't go unnoticed for long. They needed to be out of sight before someone found the body and put two and two together.
"Beka, we will need a hasty exit!" Tyr growled into a comm. unit.
Several minutes later, Tyr jerked them all to a halt, jumping from the horse. He quickly sliced through the ropes that attached them to the saddle. Harper immediately bent over, coughing harshly and trying to force his abused lungs to draw in some life-giving oxygen. Vaguely, he heard Tyr gathering up their saddle bags and supplies and then a slap which sent the horse off at a gallop.
"Are you all right, Harper?" Dylan asked, appearing at his side.
Harper nodded, unable to speak quite yet.
"Come on, then," the captain said, his voice telling Harper he saw through his lie but couldn't do anything about it. "We still need to hurry," he added, taking him by the arm. He guided him forward and they ducked between several ships, rushing along them. Harper could feel the metal of their hulls brushing against his back and shoulders as they ran.
He was pulled around a corner and without warning Dylan picked him bodily up and shoved him inside of a doorway. He stumbled and reached out through the dark to grab something solid. His hands found a metal grate and he held it tightly, gasping for breath like a fish on land as he heard the hiss of an airlock closing.
"Go!" shouted Tyr and the ship lurched around him. Harper closed his eyes and curled his good fingers tighter through the grate to stay upright, begging the universe to for once cut them some slack. They were so close! his mind cried as he felt the tell-tale signs of a rough and hasty takeoff.
Suddenly, his fingers were gently pried from the grate and he was enveloped in a surprisingly soft bear-hug.
"Harper," a voice breathed in his ear.
Rommie. The engineer melted into her embrace, feeling safe for the first time since he'd set foot on Sommer's Drift.
00000
The moment they were in motion, Tyr headed for the bridge. Dylan hesitated. Harper wasn't looking good after their impromptu run and Twig was obviously terrified, but seeing the boys were in Rommie's expert care, he gave into the long-buried pull he felt to be in the action and followed.
The Miss Kitty was a freighter not unlike the Maru. The layout was different but it wasn't big enough to get lost in. Beka was piloting when he came onto the bridge, a large bearded man with an eye patch standing at axillary controls.
"Welcome to my ship, Captain Hunt," said Patch to Dylan with a smile as Tyr moved around him to take up weapons control.
"Thank you, for everything," Dylan told the man fervently in return. Then he just stood there, watching Beka expertly navigate the ship through the atmosphere. He felt so odd, out of place, useless, standing there in chains. The others moved and worked around him with complete competence. He'd disappeared from the world for just shy of a year, but that world hadn't stopped in his absence. The real question now was if it even needed him back. Was there a place for a Captain Hunt in the universe at all anymore? Or had he really finally became that anachronism? And after everything he'd been through this year, all the ways he'd changed, could he just step back into that life as though nothing had happened?
"They've got their orbit locked down," said Beka suddenly, frowning as she flipped a few switches. "They're personally checking the idents and registration of every ship entering and leaving, as well as their cargo.
"Everything's legit about this trip, right?" Dylan couldn't help asking, a sliver of fear gripping his heart like a fist. He'd never get to know the answers to any of those questions he'd just been mulling over if they never got out of orbit.
"Aside from the three of you, yeah," answered Patch. "Don't worry. We might have to sit in line for an hour or two, but we'll get through all right." He smiled warmly, an expression rather at odds with his imposing appearance. Dylan decided he liked this man.
"Just make sure and stay out of sight if I have to turn on the view screen," Beka said, giving him a small smile.
"Probably wise," he replied with his own smile. He hadn't realized how much he missed this – this easy back and forth rapport between friends. Maybe he could find a way to slip back into his life after all.
00000
After several long minutes, Rommie pulled away from her engineer. Tyr and Dylan had already hurried by to the bridge and they were alone. The moment they'd rushed into the ship, she'd scanned and diagnosed her captain and her engineer, and the list of evil that had been done to them had enraged her.
Some people in the universe were going to pay in a very big way for this; that was a warship's promise.
But now was not the time for that.
Harper tried to stop another painful bout of coughs from erupting and Rommie hurried into action. Her engineer needed her.
"Come with me," she said to Harper, leading him carefully down a corridor to another room, hating with every fiber that he'd put into her the sight and sound of chains clanking as he moved. A small hand slipped into the engineer's least damaged one as they went, the little slave clinging to her friend like a life-preserver.
"Who's this?" she asked kindly, giving the boy a friendly smile. She might not have the need to be around them often, but she really did like children. Warships didn't have to be all battles and firepower. Besides, if the way Harper and the kid were holding on to each other was any indication, this one was going to be around for a while. At least, she hoped he was. She frowned to herself as she listened to boy's heartbeat – harsh and erratic – and noticed that the hand not clutching Harper's was pressed to his chest as if he was in pain but trying not to show it.
"This is Twig. He's my buddy and helper," Harper answered, his rough voice laced with affection. "Twig, this is Rommie. She's that butt-kicking and beautiful warship I told you about."
"Nice to meet you, Twig," she said, smiling again to try and ease some of the incredible fear she could read like a book on his face.
They entered the tiny room that passed as medical on Patch's ship. "Sit here, Harper," she urged, guiding the young man to a padded bench. Twig refused to let go of his hand so Rommie pushed a chair over for him to climb up on as well instead of sending him to the second bench across the room.
As she studied her charges, she was at a loss. There were so many things wrong that she almost didn't know where to start, what to fix first, especially since most of the hurts were far beyond anything she could do on this ship. She might have a gigantic brain, but she wasn't a doctor, not for the kinds of things Harper needed.
In the end, she settled for starting with the wrong that she was most able to right. Delicate fingers that hid the strength of a warship wrapped around one of the metal cuffs on Harper's wrists and pulled, prying it apart. Gently, she slipped his arm free, anger flashing again at the sight of the ruined skin beneath it.
"You know there's tools for this on Andromeda," said Harper quietly as she moved on to his other wrist.
"Not waiting that long," she muttered cryptically, not really trusting her powers of speech at the moment.
Swiftly, she removed the rest of the boy's chains, including the ring around his waist. His sigh of relief and joy when she pulled the last one off was heart-breaking. Nineteen pounds, her mind calculated in a nanosecond. Nineteen pounds of metal her young friend had been forced to wear for almost a year, rubbing and bruising.
She tossed them aside with disgust then turned her attention to the hideous collar around Harper's neck. "I can't find the seal," she said, rotating is slowly.
"Probably doesn't have one. The guards closed it with the same devise they used to control the slave tags…"
Harper suddenly trailed off, his face paling even more than it already was.
"Rommie, we've gotta stop!" he cried, releasing Twig's hand and pushing off the bed to his feet, movement bringing the coughing back. "Tell Beka to stop! I've gotta get to the bridge!" he said around gasps for air.
"No way, Harper. You're not going anywhere!" she said firmly, forcing him back onto the bench. "I've got five dozen hypos and medical treatments waiting with your name on them before you even think of moving, and then it's only to a bed in the crew quarters where you stay until we're back with the ship."
"No, you don't understand," he begged, desperation in his voice, pushing weakly against Rommie's hands. "We gotta stop! I gotta remove the slave tags before we leave orbit! If I don't, they'll activate and we'll have a big, fat target on our aft, not to mention the three of us will be dead!"