Harper’s head lolled back and forth as images flickered through his unconscious mind. Phrases slipped through the images giving voice to jagged memories…
…Rommie, winding a cable and looking at him with concern on her face… Trance grinning at someone just over his shoulder. “Wait, let me get you some steak sauce.”… Beka reaching for him. “It’s OK, Harper, it’s OK.”… Dylan looking down at him, his voice raised, “Harper!! Back…off!”
Harper moaned as the mental images intensified, spinning through his mind, tinged with blood and leaving thin trails of red.
…Rommie, crossing her arms. “Behave yourself Harper!”…. Dylan’s disembodied voice, “Harper, where are you?”… Tyr donning his eyewear, his voice full of disgust, “Yes, that.”… Tyr pointing a gun at his head…Tyr handing him a knife over his shoulder…Tyr pushing him up against the ladder, “Are these your demons?”
Harper’s body began jerking, his head thrashing violently. His moans became louder, his distress beginning to seep through his unconscious veil.
BOOMBOOMBOOM BOOM, “Are these your demons?” BOOMBOOM BOOM BOOM, “Well, it is time to FACE them. NOW!” BOOMBOOMBBOOM BOOM, “Are these your DEMONS!?!!”
Silence
Fighting…gunfire…FEAR! “FIGHT HARPER!! “ Bodies…blood…claws. “THERE IS FIRE IN YOUR BLOOD!!” FIRE…TEETH…MAGOG!!!
PAIN!!
“Nonononono NO!!” Harper awoke with a cry. He opened panicked, wild eyes. He sat up, white hot pain searing his flesh. He could feel the agony in his limbs and the pounding in his head, but it was nothing compared to the fear that gripped his soul. Terror pushing back the pain, he tried to jump from the table he lay upon. He was restrained. His head snapped back and forth quickly.
“No…No…not Magog…not Magog.” He whimpered continually as his horror-stricken mind tried to make sense of his surroundings. Medical equipment…he was in a medical bay, but not on the Andromeda. His gaze wandered back over the restraints at his wrists. He tried to move his hands enough to lift his dirty, ragged shirt.
“Nonononono…please. Please…nonononono.” He quietly sobbed his litany. He pulled and tugged. Twisting his wrists, drawing fresh blood.
“Please, stop struggling before you injure yourself further. You have lost enough blood for today.” A voice came out of the shadows. Harper whipped his head around to face the figure emerging from the darkness. His eyes bulged at the sight of a Perseid. He continued to scrape his wrists raw trying to reach his shirt. He dug his heels into the firm bedding trying to gain better leverage. A warm grey hand closed over his.
“You are not infested. Please stop struggling.”
“Magog. Everywhere…ohgodohgodohgod…” He shook his head refusing to believe that he could have escaped that fate. The hand moved from his wrist to pull back the bottom of his torn T-shirt. The hand pressed on his heaving abdomen.
“You are not infested. You’re going to be fine. Now, lie back down before you undo the repairs I have already made.” Harper nodded, but continued to stare at his exposed stomach.
“What is your name?” She asks hoping to distract him.
“H-Harper…S-Seamus Harper.” He whispered absently, never taking his eyes off of his stomach watching for the slightest unnatural movement.
“OK, Harper Seamusharper, lie down.”
“You’re a doctor.” It was more a statement than a question, but the Perseid gave a short nod and replaced Harper’s shirt.
“I am.”
“What…where…?” His ragged erratic breathing began to slow and he lay back on the bed. He licked dry cracked lips and the Perseid lifted a glass to them. He nodded his thanks. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. They popped open alight with more questions. “Rommie?…Beka?” He groaned in pain as he tried to sit up again. “Tyr?…is Tyr…?”
“I know you have a lot of questions.” She interrupted. “There will be time for them later.” The Perseid glanced towards a door on the far side of the room, then retrieved something from the table next to Harper. “You need to rest now. This will help you.” In one swift movement an injection was administered.
“Hey…hey.” A fog descended on his brain as the sedative took hold. He blinked to clear blurry eyes. “What’s…your…name?” He mumbled, as his eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. “Phalma.” He heard her say as he slipped back into insensibility.
Phalma watched Harper as the nightmares began to take hold. He writhed on the bed and cried out periodically. She was tempted to give him another sedative, but knew it would only delay the dreams. Nothing she could do would stop them. She would wait until he woke again. She looked up as the door swung open. A large white-furred Magog entered. She straightened up and faced the captain of the guard, feigning fearlessness, despite the armour and very large gun he carried.
“What do you want, Whitedeath?” She asked disdainfully.
“Watch your tone. You can be replaced.” The Magog told her almost conversationally, but Phalma heard the threat. “You are not the only doctor in this galaxy.” Whitedeath stepped into the room and looked down at Harper’s prone form. He growled low in his throat and licked his lips. “Our God thinks the human can be useful. It’s too bad that he wants this one kept alive.”
“But he does and you will let me heal him.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
“Your very presence here is a detriment to my work. He seems to have a fragile psyche and I’m sure that seeing you could cause him mental anguish. Perhaps damage him to the point that he would be of no use to your God. If you want to face the consequences of that, then stay.” She turned her back on him, shaking slightly and fearing that this time she had gone too far. Whitedeath walked up behind her and stood close enough that she can feel his vile breath on her neck.
“You will watch your tongue, Dr.” He growled. She felt the muzzle of his weapon in her back, knowing all too well that it wasn’t the most dangerous weapon that he possessed. “I will make sure that you are not missed.” He growled again low in his throat, letting his point sink in.
“Let me know when he is ready to be moved…and make sure it’s soon.” Whitedeath snapped as he strode across the room and out the door. Phalma braced herself against the counter and hung her head. She took a few deep breaths to calm her shaking.
Nightmares continued to plague Harper throughout the night. Twice his screams brought Phalma rushing to his side. She calmed him and dodged his questions as best she could. She kept him drugged, administering a sedative as soon as she had him calmed down. She was afraid he would awaken and see Whitedeath, who visited more frequently when she had a patient. She knew he had an interest in this human. She also knew that the creature the Magog considered their God had plans for the small human. She didn’t know what. She knew that if she could keep Harper quiet and rested through the night that in the morning she would have to fill him in on all the nasty details of this place.
She would try and reassure him that whatever fate the Magog had in store for him was better than death and certainly better than infestation. She just wasn’t sure she believed that anymore. She’d been here for so long that death, by any means, was almost a welcome thought. She walked over to the bed and checked on Harper. She wiped his forehead with a damp cloth thinking that he looked so young and small. She wondered what the Magog could want with him. Maybe he was to be her replacement and they were going to kill her after all. She shrugged as she checked the monitors at his bedside. She stretched out in the bed next to Harpers and shut her eyes intending to get a couple hours of sleep.
Harper slowly opened his eyes. He looked around the room and saw Phalma asleep in the next bed. He had stopped struggling in the night and his restraints had been removed. He raised a hand to his stomach and sighed. He wasn't sure anymore what had been real and what had been a dream. Seeing a glass by his bedside he raised himself up to his elbows and turned to reach for the glass. He cried out softly.
“Lay back down, Harper Seamusharper I’ll get it for you.” Phalma said as she rose. His quiet moan having roused her.
“Thanks, doc.” He whispered. “Oh, and you can just call me Harper.” She placed a cushion under his back to allow him to sit up. She handed him the glass and pulled a chair over to sit beside him. He drained the glass and handed it back to her.
“I’ll answer your questions now. We don’t have a lot of time. I need to tell you what’s going on.” She looked at him hard. “You have to promise me that you will listen to me. Really listen to me. I can’t have you panicking on me. You have to hear what I’m saying and trust me.” Harper nodded. His eyes flashed fear knowing that this must not be very good.
“I’m good…I’m good.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
“OK.” She searched his eyes for a minute before nodding her satisfaction. “I have been here for 7 years. I know a lot about this place.” She began. She hoped that if he understood that she had been fine here for so long that it would make him more willing to trust what she said. “I’m here because they need a doctor and they won’t hurt me as long as they do.”
“They?” Harper swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. “W-who are they?”
“Harper, listen to me. Calm down. We are in a Magog stronghold.” At the word ‘Magog’, Harper’s eyes widened in fear and he moved to jump from the table. Phalma rose and held him down.
“No…no…no.” He shook his head.
“Harper…Harper.” She grasped him by the shoulders and made him look at her. “They are not going to harm you if you do what they say.” She held his gaze until she saw the wildness receding. He nodded. “I don’t know why they’ve brought you here and let you live. You must have something, a skill or knowledge, which they need. That’s why I’m here. There are a few others. Do you know what it could be?” Harper shook his head rapidly. She released her hold on his shoulders, noticing that he was shaking slightly.
“No…no why would the Magog want me? I’m just an engineer. A genius engineer, but still just an engineer.” His bold tone belied by the crack in his voice. “I don’t have any special knowledge.” He turned his head away. “Anymore.” He added under his breath.
Phalma poured him some more water. She held the glass for him, deciding that he was as ready to listen as he was going to be.
“That must be it. They want you because you can help them fix their weapons and their ships. There was someone here before you, but he recently had…an accident. They need help keeping this place running. The Magog aren’t very proficient with machinery, their claws get in the way.” She went over to the table and busied herself with some instruments.
“W-what will they do with me?” Harper asked hesitantly. Phalma turned back to him.
“You will be treated well. There’s a creature here, unlike I have ever seen, it keeps the Magog in line. They refer to him as their “God” and follow his every order. He wants you alive and unharmed. They will follow that order to the letter. You will be given a room and escorted back and forth from your work site. You won’t be allowed to move about on your own…for a very long time.”
“Well, I don’t intend on being here for a very long time.” Harper said, his confidence and cheek returning. “Dylan will…” He stopped as his words sank in. He looked up at her hopefully. “Was anyone else brought in with me? What happened to the rest of the crew…my friends?”
“I don’t know about the rest of your shipmates. There was only a Nietzschean brought in with you.”
“Tyr! What happened to him? Where is he? Is he here?” Phalma held up a hand to stall his babbling.
“Harper, slow down and breathe. You are still recovering. You need to take it easy and not get yourself upset. The Nietzschean…Tyr was taken to another part of the planet. He was…I’m sorry, he was infested.”
“Ohgodohgodohgod!” Harper curled up on himself, tucking his aching body into the fetal position.
“Not Tyr…this isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!”
“Harper! Harper, listen to me!!” Phalma placed surprisingly strong hands on his shoulders and pushed them back to the bed cushion. “There is nothing you can do for him. You have to think about yourself.” She searched out his frightened gaze, urging him to focus on her. When she felt that she had his attention she continued. “You cannot show them your fear. Do you understand that? No Fear!” Harper nodded his head slowly…still shaking from the notion of Tyr infested. He tried to shake off the horror that image bathed him in.
“No fear. Yeah, I can do that. No problem coz I’m that good.” He realized he was beginning to babble and took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine…trust me. You are looking at Seamus Harper, actor extraordinaire.” He ended with little conviction. He thought about Tyr and how the Nietzschean had saved his life…more than once. How when he was ready to give up, Tyr wouldn’t let him. Had he not been such a burden, Tyr might not now be…oh God. He made himself think of something else. Unfortunately, his mind wondered to his other friends. What about Dylan, Beka, Trance, Rev and Rommie? Oh his Rommie! He couldn’t even think about what had happened to them. Maybe later he could allow his mind to go there, but not yet. He would concentrate on how he was going to get himself and Tyr out of this mess. He had to get hem out. He owed Tyr.
“What will happen to Tyr?” He finally continued. “Where exactly do they have him.”
“You cannot help him. You won’t even be able to get close to him. You need to forget about your friend and worry about yourself.”
“I can’t forget about him.” He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them he tried a slight smile. “What if I try to worry about myself while I’m worrying about him?” Phalma nodded knowing it was as good as she was going to get from him right now. Her gaze wondered towards the door.
“Agreed.” She said giving him a sympathetic smile. “There’s more you should know and little time.”
“OK, what, umm…?” He followed her gaze to the door at the far side of the room and shuddered. He turned back to her. He tried to concentrate on her and let go of the visions crowding his head. “Might as well hit me with the rest of the bad news, doc.”
“Whitedeath, the Captain of the Magog Guard, will come for you soon. I can hold him off for the rest of the day, but probably no longer. They will want you at work fixing the damaged ships as soon as possible. The good thing is that their God creature knows that you need your strength to get the job done. You should be glad that they need you so badly.”
“Yeah, I’m honored.” He quipped sarcastically. Phalma smiled to herself seeing a flicker of his strength in the statement. She hoped that he would be able to keep it together when Whitedeath showed up. She needed to keep him talking and distracted, but not so distracted that he was surprised when the Magog showed up. She was about to ask him about the ship he came from when he sat up and started asking his own questions.
“You said that you’ve been here for 7 yrs. How did that happen?” He asked holding his glass and trying hard not to stare at the door. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from Sinti. Four other doctors and myself were on our way home when our ship was attacked. We had been giving medical aide to Lycus Drift. The Magog boarded and massacred the entire crew along with three of my colleagues. I was brought here. I don’t know what became of Shamat. He was my mentor and my friend. I hope that he’s somewhere on one of these worlds, but I don’t really know and I’m sure I never will. They brought me before their God creature and he spoke to them somehow. They told me that they needed a doctor and I was to be it. That was 7 years ago. I’m treated well enough, but every day I wonder if it would be better to be dead. I’m allowed a bit more freedom as time passes, but where am I going to go?”
“You said that the former engineer had an accident. What happened?”
“He killed himself. He hadn’t been here long and he was slowly going crazy. That’s why I’m telling you. You have to calm yourself and be strong. Harper, this is your fate. You will never leave here.” She placed her hand on his, hoping that he was strong enough to survive the first few months. She knew that was the hardest time and if he could make it through that then he would probably be fine.
“I will be leaving here and I’m taking you with me.” He told her with a yawn. “Why don’t you rest for a while. I’ll bring you something to eat.” She removed the support cushion. Harper closed his eyes and hoped that he could sleep without the nightmares.
“Doctor, he’s coming with me.” Whitedeath said as he entered the room. He stood at the end of the bed and glared down at his prisoner. He had instructions to take the human in the morning, but he wanted him now. He thought he might play with him a little first.
“You can have him in the morning. He needs to be kept on antibiotics another night. He isn’t strong enough.” She was also hoping that she could keep Harper from seeing Whitedeath just yet. He had fallen asleep just fine, but not long after that he had begun calling out and struggling in his sleep. She had once again given him the sedative and it seemed to calm him. She knew hearing that you are being held by Magog and seeing them come at you are two different things. He needed a little more time. Whitedeath leapt at Phalma and she jumped back in fear. He growled, baring his teeth.
“You are pushing me more and more, Perseid. Don’t think it is going unnoticed.” He hissed at her. “As a doctor, I’m sure you know what will happen to your body when I make you a host for my progeny. I look forward to the day.” He leaned forward suddenly growling again. He spun on his heel and marched from the room, leaving Phalma doubled over and shaking. She leaned back and slid down the wall. She sat huddled in the corner for a long while.
Harper sat up in his bed and looked around the room. He was alone and he was confused. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat for a minute, gathering his strength. Slowly rising to his feet he stood with his hands on the bed, steadying himself. He got his bearings and walked a couple of paces. The door slid open and Phalma entered. Seeing Harper on his feet she quickly looked behind her. She entered the room and quickly shut the door behind her.
“Get back in bed…now!” She ordered.
“Hey, I’m good. Just a little woozy, but nothing I can’t handle.” His cocky tone making her smile.
“I’ve brought you something to eat if you’d like to try.” She holds out the tray she’s carrying. Harper looks at the bowl of liquid suspiciously.
“What is it?”
“It’s broth. Don’t worry, it’s fine…really.”
Phalma set the tray aside and watched Harper fidget with his blanket. She knew he was feeling better and was getting restless.
“Harper, do you think that you’ll be able to deal with the Magog? I can tell by your nightmares that the attack you’ve just been through wasn’t your first experience with them. “
“No, it’s wasn’t.” Harper says. He opens his mouth then shuts it and shrugs. He smiled unconvincingly with a forced chuckle. “I grew up on Earth. I guess that pretty much says it all.” Phalma nodded, understanding. Harper continued. “I have a friend, he’s a Magog. He’s a Wayist. I’ve been thinking that I always felt comfortable working with him because I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. So the trick is to pretend like they are all Rev in disguise. That should be a snap for a genius like me.” He grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows. Phalma couldn’t help but smile back at him. “He also taught me a mantra that helped the last time I got a little freaky. ‘My pain belongs to the divine, it is like air…it is like water.’ I’ll just think of Rev and do the Wayist chant.” He grinned again, but a shadow passed over his face. He wondered what happened to Rev.
He spent the rest of the afternoon trading stories with Phalma. He told her about Dylan and the Andromeda. He told her some of the scraps they’d been in since teaming up. She was amazed by his stories. She listened to him talk of his friends and knew that it would be hard for him to come to terms with the fact that they weren’t coming to his rescue. As his personality came through clearer, she was more and more sure that he’d be strong enough to fight his inner demons. She could also see that he would hold onto the hope that they would come for him. She hoped that the disappointment, when it came, wouldn’t crush him.
Phalma finally convinced Harper that he needed to rest up and he agreed to a nap. He tossed and turned for a while. He wasn’t looking forward to the nightmares that he was sure sleep will bring. He was also still achy enough that getting comfortable was not an easy task. Phalma readied a sedative, thinking that she may have to help him fall asleep. Harper rolled to face her and propped himself up on his elbow.
“Hey doc, I don’t really want that.” He told her.
“I know, but you may need it.” She paused to look at him thoughtfully for a minute. “Unless there is something specific on your mind that’s keeping you from sleeping. Is there?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for long minutes. He closed his eyes and was so still that Phalma thought he’d finally drifted off. She was surprised when he spoke.
“Do you know where they keep the ‘hosts’?” He asked softly, the inflection he put on the last word reflected his disgust.
“No.” She said simply, knowing that the lie was for his own good. Harper nodded. He felt better knowing that at least he’d be able to find Tyr, once he charmed the truth out of Phalma.
Phalma roused Harper after a relatively quiet night. She wanted to check him over and have him ready when Whitedeath showed up. She knew he would be impatient and arrive early. Harper lay quietly as she did her examination of his injuries. She was pleased that he was healing so well and told him so.
“I have a really bad immune system and seem to catch every bug that comes within a million light years. Fortunately I usually shrug it off pretty fast once it’s treated.”
“That’s a good thing, especially here.” She finished checking him over. “Harper, you know that they’ll come for you soon.”
“Sure, I’m good. The Harper has it under control.”
“Well, the Magog that’ll come for you, Whitedeath, he’s…frightening.” She looked at him closely. He shrugged and his head jerked in what was meant to be a reassuring nod, but didn’t come close. “Harper…you have to be ready for him. Be calm; try not to show him how afraid you are of him. He will use that to torment you. He’ll torment you either way, but if he sees your fear, there will be no stopping him.”
“No sweat, doc.” He smiled at her, his dimples flashing. “My pain belongs to the divine, it is like air…it is like water. Rev would be proud.” He grinned sadly to himself.
“You just keep saying that and I think you’ll be fine. I’ll get you some bre…”
“I see he’s up and ready to go.” A voice said from the doorway. Harper’s eyes widen with fear at the sight of the largest Magog that he’d ever seen. He fought down the impulse to jump from the table; instead he took a deep breath and mumbled his mantra to himself. Whitedeath strode over to stand at Harper’s bedside. He stared down menacingly at the frightened engineer as he spoke to Phalma. “I’m sorry you decided not to fight me on this.” He turned away from Harper to add in a voice oozing with condescension. “Doctor.”
The white-furred creature turned back to him suddenly and leaned close. Harper jerked back swallowing convulsively to keep from wailing out his fear. Whitedeath enjoyed the terror that shone in Harper’s wide eyes.
“Let’s go, Human.” He growled, baring his teeth. Harper glanced at Phalma and she smiled reassuringly.
“Sure, lead the way.” Harper said shakily contradicting his attempt at bravado. He climbed carefully down off the bed. Whitedeath shot his taloned hand out to grasp Harper’s shoulder. The claw pierced the flesh slightly and Harper cried out as he tried to jerk away. Blood began to seep through his already tattered and stained T-shirt. Phalma had taken the shirt from him when he was brought in. She had washed it and mended it as best she could, but the results were only adequate. The new blood stain would barely be noticeable.
“You’re going to cause him to have to stay another day.” Phalma said behind him. He turned a threatening gaze on her. She set her jaw and met his gaze. After a long moment, Phalma dropped her eyes. Whitedeath released Harper. The blond man collapsed on the floor. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to calm his quaking limbs. Phalma appeared at his side. She bent to help him to his feet. Whitedeath pushed her back and she landed on the bed that Harper had just vacated.
“He will do it on his own.” He eyed Harper’s still form with a mixture of disgust and desire.
“Get up, Human!” He gave him a kick in the ribs. Harper winced, but rose. With a final glance at Phalma, he followed Whitedeath out the door.
They walked down a dark and dismal corridor. Harper had his head down but he was memorizing every step that he took. When they finally stopped Harper was fairly confident he could find his way back to med bay. Whitedeath opened a door and shoved Harper inside. Harper’s aching body fell to the floor and he groaned.
“Get up, Human!” Whitedeath barked. Harper slowly rose to his feet and looked around. They were in a docking bay and there were four swarm ships parked on the far side. “You are to repair the ships. Have them done by the time I get back.”
“Umm, no problem.” Harper said distractedly, as he thoughtfully eyed the airlock.
“Don’t even think about it. If you try to open the airlock, I don’t think you’ll like the outcome. You will not get it open, and it will not kill you. Although when I get done with you, you will wish that it had.” Whitedeath watched him for a second making sure that Harper understood what he was saying before continuing. “You can find the tools that you will need in the cabinet on the far wall.”
“What if I need something that isn’t there?” Harper asked, turning to face Whitedeath for the first time. The Magog’s hand shot out with surprising speed. He grasped Harper’s jaw in his mighty hand. His clawed finger stroked Harper’s face with just enough force to leave a thin trail of blood. Harper swallowed convulsively as he mentally chanted his new mantra.
“Then you will have to improvise. Do not make the mistake of thinking that you are safe. If my God is not pleased, he will let me have you.” He lifted Harper up on his tiptoes by his throat. Noting the terror that Harper was unable to keep out of his eyes, he squeezed harder. He growled and let Harper crumble to the floor. “NOW GET TO WORK!” He roared. He turned to the door and without a backward glance he thrust his foot out behind him. The kick connected with Harper’s ribs and sent him flying across the floor. He slammed into the wall with a thud.
Harper heard the door shut and the lock engage. He lay huddled in a ball for a long while. Holding his ribs, sure that one was broken, he willed himself to be strong. He slowly reached out a hand and placed it on the wall. Every breath sending a jagged stab of pain through his body, he pulled himself to a standing position. He tried not to think of the pain in his body and in his heart. He knew he was in a bad position. But he held on to the hope that the Andromeda survived the Magog attack. They would be looking for him and Tyr. Tyr…one more thing not to think about right now. He made his way to the tool cabinet.
“First things first, Harper. Fix their freakin’ death mobiles so you can explore a bit. They don’t know how resourceful you are. If there’s a way out, you can find it!” Locating the basic tools that he would need, he stepped into the first ship and set out to find the problem. He worked for the next couple of hours, ignoring the torment in his body and working on an escape plan. He would find himself talking out loud, keeping himself company with his own voice.
He ran a diagnostic on the last ship and found it to be working perfectly. He picked up the tools and put them away. He didn’t really think that the Magog were neat freaks, but he wasn’t taking any chances. As he worked he had surreptitiously checked out the room. He was surprised to find that the room contained an air duct system. He had tried not to stare at it while he worked. He wasn’t sure what it was doing there. He knew from what Phalma had told him that they were actually inside a world. He finally surmised that since the Magog weren’t a very technical or handy race that they had installed the simplest system they could.
“Lucky for me.” He muttered as he turned away from the duct. He sat on the floor by the airlock and leaned on his knees. He’d been trying to put the pain in his side out of him mind, but it has gotten increasingly worse.
“I would trade my surfboard for a glass of water.” He said aloud. He smiled slightly; thinking Trance would get a kick out of that statement. She’d also never believe he was serious, but at this minute, he was. He licked his dry, cracked lips and tried to work up enough saliva to wet his throat. While he was staving off his thirst and hunger, he passed sideways glances at the airlock door and the electronics connected to it. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but he didn’t even consider taking a chance that Whitedeath was lying about it being rigged somehow.
“Although I’m sure no Magog installed this. Hey, maybe it was the guy who had the ‘accident’.” He stood, steadying himself against the wall for a moment.
He grimaced as he slowly wandered around the room. He wondered when the Magog would come for him and where they’d take him. He hoped that it would be back to Medical. His ribs were killing him and his head had been a bit fuzzy since he hit it on the wall. He’d been trying to figure out all day if there was sound or video hooked up to the room. He assumed that they would want to keep an eye on their captives, but then again with the threat of infestation hanging over you. Who would be dumb enough to try anything? He alternated sitting and roaming around the room waiting for someone…anyone, or anything, to come for him. He was feeling increasingly worse and really wanted to lie down. He was just too afraid of waking up with a Magog staring down at him. The more time passed, the more he became convinced that there were no spy devices in the room. He was sure that if there were then they would have come and given him another task.
The door opened and Whitedeath walked in followed by two other large Magogs. They weren’t as big as their captain, but they were big enough. Harper had been sitting on the floor. He jumped up when they entered. He immediately regretted his action, and doubled over groaning.
“Human, come here.” He barked. Harper complied, as quickly as his injuries would allow.
“Wildrage, check the ships. Manicstorm, check the airlock. Make sure that it hasn’t been touched.” He placed a vise grip on Harper’s shoulder and waited for his brother Magog to report back to him. Whitedeath steadily increased the pressure, wanting to hear the human in pain. He wasn’t disappointed. As hard as he tried Harper couldn’t keep from crying out. The sound pushed past his parched throat, scrapping his vocal cords, and giving him another reason to howl, had he been able. The scratching at his raw, dry throat made him cough. As the fit increased he bent over to hold his ribs, the convulsing of his lungs sending a jolt of pain through his ribs. Whitedeath grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him upright. Harper’s head spun and he struggled to stop the coughing. “The ships are in working order.” Wildrage said as he stepped from the last one.
“The airlock system is untouched.” Manicstorm reported. Whitedeath looked down at Harper and sneered. He spun Harper towards the door.
“Let’s go, Human.” Whitedeath gave Harper a little shove and the injured man sprawled on the floor. His head making contact with the doorway. He lay on the floor panting, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his heated flesh. Manicstorm walked over and kicked him. Harper howled as his rib was jolted.
“Get up!” Whitedeath snarled. “NOW!” Harper struggled to his feet as quickly as he could. He placed a hand to his temple and felt a warm wetness running down his face. He winced at the sight of more of his blood seeping from his body. His already fuzzy head swam from the pounding headache that exploded as he stood. He walked a couple steps and fell to his knees. He instantly tried to stand, desperately trying to avoid another kick to his injured ribs. The three Magog looked down at him impatiently.
“Take him to medical. If he falls again, drag him.” Whitedeath instructed Wildrage. Harper winced as Wildrage took hold of his upper arm and began striding too quickly down the hall.
Phalma looked up as the door opened. She shut her eyes briefly as Wildrage dragged Harper in by his arm and left him just inside the door.
“Whitedeath will come for him in the morning. Have him ready to work.” He told her before the door closed. She hurried to Harper’s side, not at all surprised to see him. He opened his eyes and attempted a smile.
“Hey Doc, fancy meeting you here. “ He wisecracked. He tried to sit up, but a flash of pain stopped him. He turned a sweat-drenched face to Phalma and shook his head. “I may need some help here.” She nodded and wrapped an arm around him. Harper, trying not to vocalize his pain, rose to his feet and made his way unsteadily over to the bed. Thankful for her help, he sat.
“I’ve been expecting you.” She told him. “No ones ever makes it through their first day without some sort of incident.” She told him as she wheeled over a table laden with supplies.
“Aww, and I thought I was special.” He whispered. He placed a hand to his throat and eyed the water pitcher on the table. She nodded and held the glass to his cracked lips. He drank greedily.
“Easy…easy, slow down. You’re going to…” Her words are cut off by his coughing fit. “…choke.” He smiled weakly at her. She shook her head and set the glass aside. “Lay back and let me look you over.”
“I think my rib is broken.” He told her.
“I was afraid of that, from the way you were holding your side. Unfortunately, I don’t have a bone mender. Magog bones don’t break that easily. They have no use for it, so I don’t need it. I’ll have to just tape them and you’ll have to be careful. Can you do that?” He nodded and closed his eyes.
Phalma pushed the table aside. She looked over her handy work. Other than the bandage on his temple and the pale hue of his skin, he looked as he had when she’d watched him walk out the door this morning. His shirt was off and she had his ribs taped up. She’d given him another sedative, hoping to spare him as much of the pain from the taping as possible. She sighed and watched him sleep for a minute. She knew that he’d had nothing to eat all day. The Magog weren’t big on treating their captives well, especially when they first arrived. She brushed a shock of damp, blond hair from his forehead.
Harper woke the next morning to an empty room. He slowly stretched and rotated his shoulders. He didn’t feel to badly…considering. His side ached, but the tape was tight enough to keep the rib from shifting, but loose enough that he could comfortably breath. His headache was gone. He felt his temple and found the bandage. It was dry. He knew that it was a good sign that the wound wasn’t still bleeding. He wondered idly how much blood he had lost over the last couple of days. Phalma entered as he was putting on his shirt. She had a tray of food and smiled to see that he was up and moving about.
“I’m glad you’re up. I don’t know how long it’ll be before Whitedeath comes and I wanted you to eat something.” She set the tray on the bed and he sat back down. He was ravenous.
“I have a couple of questions to ask you.” He said as he stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth. “I really need some answers, doc. Don’t worry…I’m good today. I got it all covered.” He grinned and shook his head side to side. “Harper’s got a plan.”
“How do you feel?” She asked pointedly ignoring his statement.
“Fine…almost good as new. You do good work, doc.” He leaned closer to her on the bed. “No time for that now though. OK, first question, how long was I here before I woke up?”
“Almost a day…not very long. Why?”
“Great!! I assume that they have no spying gizmos in here, since you’ve been talking pretty openly.” He paused and she nodded. “Do you know if they keep watch in the landing dock? Or anywhere else?”
“I don’t know about everywhere. I know there is nothing in the landing dock and most of the rooms.” She says confidently. He smiles wryly.
“I guess they figure that you can’t go anywhere and who’s really gonna try knowing what the freakin’ Magog’ll do if they catch you.”
“Harper, what are you getting at? You’re beginning to worry me.”
“Don’t sweat it, I told you I got a plan.”
He finished his breakfast and set the tray aside. “I know you told me that you didn’t know where they kept the ‘hosts’, but I don’t believe you.” He said simply. Phalma couldn’t help but laughing at the matter of fact tone in his voice. “I know you’re just worried about me, but believe me, I’ve been in tougher positions before.” He flashed his dimples at her and hoped that she couldn’t see through the lie, or the fear in his eyes. “Doc, I need to find Tyr. He’s here because of me and I need to get to him. There’s an old ventilation system in the landing dock. Unless I miss my guess, and I rarely do, it must go throughout the world. All I need is to know which way to go once I’m in. Please…please, tell me.” He glanced at the door meaningfully and she nodded acknowledging that they didn’t have much time.
“Harper…” She sighed, making up her mind. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But, I don’t think you’re going to be able to fit in the vents.” She stood quickly and pulled back a curtain from the far side of the room. It slid along a metal track to reveal another vent on the top of the wall. Harper eyed it openly, like he’d been afraid to the previous day.
“Hey, the advantages of being compact, I can make it.” He looked back at the opening dubiously. “I have to make it.” He added under his breath. Phalma shook her head.
“You know what will happen if you get caught.”
“I know. I have to do this. I have…”
“A plan. I know.”
“Don’t worry, doc.” Harper smiled charmingly at the Perseid. “I’ll be back for you.” Phalma glanced at the door and against her better judgment, she told Harper where she thought he’d find his friend. She knew that if she didn’t tell him, he’d just try to find Tyr on his own. She had to give him every advantage to succeed.
Harper growled in frustration as the spot welder slipped from his hand. He knew he was hurrying and his haste was causing him to make more mistakes, but he couldn’t help it. He knew that he only had a small window in which to get to Tyr and he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to find him the first time out. He might need a couple of days. Phalma had assured him that unless the Magog really roughed him up today they wouldn’t take him back to Medical. He wasn’t sure that he would have a duct in his room, so during the day might be his only chance.
He picked up the tools he had strewn about the room and carefully surveyed the room. He wasn’t certain when the Magog would be back, but he was going in. He clipped the spot welder to his belt, his only crude weapon. He jumped up and grasped the edge of the square opening. He pulled himself up and squeezed in. He hissed in pain as the movement jarred his ribs. He took a minute to let the pain recede before moving.
“Suck it up, Harper. It’s just a little pain. After you find Tyr, get Phalma out and basically save the day, you can lay back and let Trance and Rommie pamper you.” He told himself. “If you can find them.” He added as an afterthought.
It was tight, but he could move. If the duct got any smaller, he wasn’t going to make it. “Good thing I’m not claustrophobic.” Taking a shaky breath he wiggled his body in a slithering motion. He winced knowing that this was not going to be fun with a broken rib. After a short while, he heard screaming and he closed his eyes to try and visualize the map Phalma had drawn in jelly that morning.
“Hey, the sounds of torture, this must be the place.” He muttered with more confidence than he felt. The screams came from the right direction. He wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not. One thing he was happy about was the fact that the Magog didn’t like to waste a lot of room on their captives and kept them fairly close together. He turned to the left and found a small offshoot like the one that had led him from the landing dock. He knew it would be a room. He slid through and saw a bed. There was a woman laying on it. Her stomach distended and writhing. His eyes widened and he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the woman’s stomach and the grotesque way it moved. The woman’s screams brought a Magog into the room. That was all the motivation Harper needed to slide out backwards. He got to the main tunnel and paused. Once he got his racing heart under control, he continued on.
He checked out several more room, finding nothing but infested victims.
“How many damn rooms can be down here?” He was feeling a sickness in his stomach and in his heart like he never felt before. The sights were playing on his already growing fear, causing an almost panic to seize him. He knew he had to get back soon. He really didn't want to get caught doing this.
“One more room, Harper, and then you have to go back. You can look tomorrow.” He promised himself quietly. That last room proved to be the lucky one. He peered in and saw the Nietzschean on a cot much too small for him. The black man was sweating and groaning. Harper could have killed someone in that moment. He knew how much pain Tyr must be in to be vocalizing it. He was about to crawl out of the hole when he saw the Magog. He was standing with his back to Harper, so the small man couldn’t tell what he was doing. He just knew that he had to try again later. At least he knew where Tyr was. He backed out and headed back to the landing dock. He hadn’t thought about how difficult it was going to be to get back. There wasn’t enough room in the tunnel for him to turn around and he had to back out the whole way.
“Great, now I have to navigate this backwards. Good thing I’m a master with direction.” He concentrated and pushed back. “Nice and slow, baby, nice and slow.”
Harper’s feet suddenly swung into space. He hoped he had reached his destination and he hoped it was an empty room. He was almost certain that he was going the right way, but without visual confirmation, he couldn’t be positive. Screwing up his courage, he pushed back and lowered himself to the ground. He spun quickly, ignoring the shooting pain that gripped him. He leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. He hadn’t let his fear surface while in the tunnel, and now the relief that he felt at finding himself alone came bubbling out in his slightly hysterical laughter. He got himself under control and walked to the cabinet. He was replacing the spot welder when the door slid open. He whirled and froze at the sight of the three Magog standing in the doorway. He hoped this was just really good timing, but he was afraid that it was too much of a coincidence.
“Human!” Whitedeath growled and jerked his head indicating that Harper should come to him. Harper glanced at the other two Magog and walked slowly, nervously toward the large creature. He stood quietly while his work on the ships was checked over.
“Everything is completed, Whitedeath.” Wildrage told his captain. Whitedeath nodded and turned to open the door. Realizing that his afternoon field trip had gone undetected, Harper grinned to himself.
“Thank you, O’ Divine one.” He muttered.
“What?” Whitedeath asked, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and spinning him around to face him. Harper shook his head convulsively trying hard not to show any fear or sign of pain.
“Let’s go.” Whitedeath called to his fellow Magog. “We have no time for the human today.” Whitedeath shoved him into the hallway and the other Magog followed. Harper bit his tongue to keep from making a sarcastic comment and went where he was led.
Once again he walked with his head down memorizing the route they were taking. Not far from the medical bay he was shoved into a room and the door was shut behind him. Harper shot a dirty look at the closed door before frowning at his new home. There was a small cot in the corner and a hole in the floor that smelled. He shrugged.
“Well, I’ve slept in worse places.” He reminded himself. He placed his hand on his side and pulled his shirt up. He adjusted the tape. His gaze wandered up and a huge grin broke out on his face. There, looking like Heaven, was a small vent opening.
“The Divine is good…The Divine is great…The Divine his gonna help me get out of this evil shithole of a place.” He sang to himself, making up words as he went along. He walked over to the wall and pulled himself up. He peered inside and knew it was the same system. He dropped back to the floor, telling himself to be patient. He would have to wait awhile. Besides, he needed to get some rest. He lay down on the cot and drifted off.