Part One

Harper stood and stared out into space. The past and the present had come back and kicked him in the ass. Again. He thought about his cousin Brendan and the rebellion on Earth. Why hadn’t he stayed? He’d fully intended to until Rommie had threatened to break his legs and carry him back; and when that hadn’t worked pleaded and persuaded and finally told him she loved him. But not that way.

Harper thought he shouldn’t have made any final decisions while he was so confused. The news of Cuchulain Nez Perce’s death had flown right by without him really registering it at the time. Another piece of his past, joining up with the present. Harper shivered, knowing that however much he wanted to forget the past and all the things he’d done and seen it was there, solid, like the floor he stood on.

Harper remembered his first meeting with Cuchulain vividly. Of course he hadn’t known his name. Not then, it wasn’t until the Andromeda had met up with the Dragon fleet during the whole Sabra-Jaguar thing that he’d connected the military leader with the Niet in the alleyway.

~

That alleyway; Harper cursed and thanked the chance that had him walking past there. A skinny, starving fifteen year-old boy scavenging for anything that would keep him alive for another day. He’d lost Brendan but that was okay because then he wouldn’t have to share anything he found. When the hand had reached out and gripped his shirt and he’d seen the bone-spurs he’d known that today was the day he was going to die.

He hadn’t though. He’d looked up, up into those pale, cold eyes and whimpered. The Niet grinned and held up a coin.

"Want to earn enough to feed your family for a day?"

Harper didn’t know what to do: Niets took what they wanted and never paid for anything they could take by force. The disk in the Cuchulain’s hand seemed so shiny and beautiful compared to the dark and grimy surroundings.

It meant food.

Harper nodded.

Cuchulain forced him down onto his knees and made what he wanted very clear. Afterwards, dizzy from lack of oxygen and with his throat raw Harper left the alleyway and almost threw up. Almost, but he couldn’t quite do it. His body obviously associated the semen he’d swallowed with food and was hanging onto it.

The money being spent and the pain of an empty belly drove him back. Harper hung around waiting to see if his benefactor would return. He did, and another quarter of an hour on his knees as Cuchulain fucked his mouth bought him enough to keep the hunger away for another day.

He grew almost used to it. Every few days he’d creep away to sell his mouth, it got easier to lie to his family and he was getting stronger with regular meals. He'd hide the food he bought, sharing it only when he could think of a plausible explanation for acquiring it. If his family knew he was a Nietzschean’s whore they’d be horrified.

Two months of this and then something changed. This time Cuchulain held up five times what he’d given Harper before.

"Do you know what you’ll have to do for this?" Cuchulain’s voice sounded hungry and it sent the shakes into Harper’s knees. They’d had a routine and it had lulled Harper: he’d forgotten to be afraid, he’d forgotten that Nietzscheans were his enemies.

Harper shook his head.

"You drop your pants and I fuck your ass." Cuchulain waved the money in front of Harper’s fear-filled eyes. The money always hypnotised Harper: food, life, safety of a sort. Harper thought of his cousin, desperately in need of antibiotics for a chest infection.

"Okay."

He thought it was going to kill him. Harper had experienced pain many times before but nothing like this before. He was pressed against the wall, feeling even smaller and more helpless than normal with Cuchulain towering over him. He cried and muffled his screams with the sleeve of his shirt but he didn’t say ‘stop’ and when it was finished and he fell to the ground, the money landed beside him.

He could hardly walk and told everyone he’d fallen while scavenging. They looked at him funny but said nothing. A few days later when he handed over the money for medicine no one tried to ask him about it. Harper made a joke about fat traders who didn’t know enough to keep their money hidden and it was left at that. Brendan got his antibiotics and Harper healed, there was no need to know what had happened.  No one wanted to know what happened.

Harper swore never to go back. He was never going to do that again, never going to let anyone do that to him, but time passed and the hurts healed and the hunger returned. Everyone was ill again and when someone mentioned ‘fat traders’ in Harper’s hearing he knew what that meant.

It was three days before Cuchulain returned. His eyes glittered as Harper crept over to the shadows.

"You’ve been gone for a while."

"I needed to heal."

"And it took you this long? Kludges are so fragile." Cuchulain held up the money again and once again Harper was in the thrall of the shining disks.

"Why do you do this?" Harper couldn’t help asking as Cuchulain turned him to the wall and roughly pulled down his pants.

"All my wives are pregnant right now. And who would want the embarrassment of a half kludge bastard?" Cuchulain lunged forwards and it began again.

It wasn’t as bad this time: it still hurt like Hell and he still cried but when it was over Harper stayed on his feet. He took the money passed over his shoulder and leaned on the wall as he heard Cuchulain leave. He didn’t wanted to turn around while the Niet was still there; he didn’t wanted the Niet to think that he’d enjoyed what had been done to him. The fact that he was hard was a horrible joke. Harper turned and pulled his pants back up over his erection when he noticed Brendan standing watching him.

"You’re never going to do this again." Brendan’s face was tear-streaked too. "I don’t care how ill or hungry we get. Never again."

They cried together and swore to look out for each other and somehow survived without the shiny damnation held in the hand of a Nietzschean. It was hard but they survived to fight against the Niets, to die a death of the body instead of the soul.

~

Harper stared into space. You never forgot your first time. Even if it was with the enemy.
 

End part One

Part Two

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