Futurity

Harper stirs. Where is he? This doesn’t feel like a starkly functional biobed. It’s soft and extremely comfortable. He spreads out. The dimensions are impressively large. Even the bed in his senior officer’s quarters isn’t this big. Harper moves again. His head feels thick and fuzzy.

He forces his eyes open. The room is dark. Lights fill the room beyond. Harper sits up slowly. The sheets fall to his waist, drawing his attention to the bareness of his chest; to the bareness of everything. What the hell happened? The last thing he remembers is being grabbed from behind and the hiss of something being injected into his throat. He tenderly cradles his head in his hands and groans. “Ohhh…what happened? My head feels like…ooohhh.”

“Here.”

Harper blinks. A tall, shadowy figure is standing next to him, holding something. The voice is familiar but there is something not quite right about it. “Dylan?”

“Take this. It will clear your head.” A tray is set on his lap.

Harper frowns. The voice is right but the cadence of words and tone is wrong. The voice is softly patronizing rather than crisp and commanding. Where the hell is he and what mindfuck is going on? “Could we get some lights in here?”

There is a loud, elaborate sigh. “I suppose so. Just this once I’ll get the lights for you but don’t get any ideas. I am not your servant.”

Harper blinks against the sudden blaze of lights. He stares, speechless. The man standing in front of him looks like Dylan. Sort of. The face is the same but the expression is softer. The hair is pale brown and long. It is swept forward over Dylan’s shoulder and tied with a thin blue velvet bow that matches both his eyes and the pale blue silk shirt covering his chest. The shirt is tucked neatly into very tight white leather pants.

“Finally!” Dylan sighs and waves a nail file. He looks down at Harper with a superior smirk then goes back to filing his nails. “I thought you were going to sleep all day. I’ve got much too much to do. I don’t need to sit here watching over you.”

Okay. Maybe Dylan liked to…dress up in private. He could live with that as long as he didn’t have to watch. That would explain the clothes but the hair…Harper finally finds his voice. “Dylan? You look…different. When did your hair get so long?”

“I’ve worn my hair this way forever.” Dylan laughs and tosses the hair over his shoulder. His voice takes on a confiding tone. “I should probably change my look but Gaheris loves me with long hair. He would be sooo mad if I cut it.”

“Oh shit.” This is not good. Harper can feel his breathing speed up to match the pounding in his head. “What’s with the hair toss? Where the fuck am I?”

Dylan doesn’t look up from doing his nails. “Why, you’re home, silly.”

Harper looks around the huge room. It does not look like anywhere that he has ever been. “Home?”

“Yes. You’re in the Archduke’s quarters. Safe in his bed, waiting for him. Just as you’re supposed to…where else would you be?” Dylan holds his hand up, inspecting his nails.

A view of the stars fills one side of the room in place of a wall. A thick, plush rug of cream and bronze spilled across the floor. An abstract tapestry featuring splashes of cream, bronze and gold covers the opposite wall. Harper sighs. There is only one conclusion to be drawn. Someone has been playing with tesseracts. As soon as he gets home, he’ll have to be sure and tell Dylan about his counterpart. “No, it definitely ain’t Kansas. That damn tesseract machine has dumped me into an alternate universe.”

“Kansas…tesseract…what nonsense are you talking?” Dylan sighs.

“Listen to me. I don’t belong here.” Harper insists. “I have to get home.”

“I told you, you silly thing. You are home.” Dylan glances at Harper.

“Will you listen to me? I’m not from this universe. Someone…I don’t know who…must have made a mistake and brought me here. Now all I’ve got to do is figure out how to get back.”

“Ahem, ahem.” Dylan coughs delicately. “I have a slight, but important correction; it was my dear Gaheris who braved untold dangers in that barbaric place to bring you back.”

“What are you saying? This Gaheris brought me here…on purpose?” Harper glares at Dylan. So, that’s the goon who jumped him and dragged him off. Harper picks up the small white pill on his tray and knocks it back with the glass of water. “That’s mighty neighborly of him…but I’m going home.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Dylan tucks the nail file away. He openly studies Harper with a dubious expression. “You belong to Archduke Anasazi now. You’re his companion.’”

Harper chokes on a second sip of water. “Belong? I belong to…wait a minute. Tyr…Tyr…Anasazi?”

Dylan laughs. “As if there’s another Archduke Anasazi. You’re sort of backward, you know that?”

Belong to Anasazi? Like property? Oh, hell, no! Harper glowers. No way, no how. “Listen…missy…I don’t belong to anyone.”

Dylan huffs and puts his hands on his hips. “Did you just call me ‘missy’ you little smartass?”

“What are ya gonna do, bitch slap me?” Harper snarks.

“I’ll…I’ll tell Gaheris you were mean to me and he’ll have you killed.” Dylan sweeps his long hair forward and combs his fingers through the strands. He pouts. “Then the Archduke will have to find another kludge to warm his bed. So there.”

Harper stares, wide-eyed and appalled. This is really, really, really bad. This is a level of badness beyond his imagination. Maybe he didn’t hear that right. He couldn’t have possibly heard that right. “Whoa…whoa…whoa…warm his bed? Anasazi sleeps with his…companion?”

“Of course. You really are not as bright as everyone seems to think you are.” Dylan stares back with pale puzzled eyes. “You belong to him as I belong to Gaheris.”

“This just keeps getting better and better.” Harper moans. He drops his aching head in his hands. That would explain the whole waking up naked in a huge bed thing. Tyr’s huge bed. Oh, shit. Him naked in Tyr’s bed. He can’t wrap his mind around the concept. Tyr expecting…oh, shit. How is he going to manage to keep Tyr at bay until he can escape? This cannot be happening.

Why does the universe hate him so much? Why is it always him? He had thought that getting infested with Magog larvae was the worst thing that could happen to him. All those months of watching the damned things grow. Harper shudders.

He survived that. Surely he could survive being stuck him in an alternate universe with an over-sexed Nietzschean alpha after his ass. He still just can’t imagine Tyr wanting his ass of all things. The Tyr that he knows is obsessed with founding a new Kodiak Pride not chasing one skinny engineer. He’ll never be able to look at Tyr in the same way when he gets back. Harper raises his head reluctantly. “Did you say ‘Archduke’ Anasazi?”

“Why yes. Archduke Anasazi rules Pride Kodiak. The most feared Nietzscheans in the known worlds. My Gaheris is his flagship captain.” Dylan smiles proudly.

Harper frowns. That name sounds sorta familiar. “Gaheris…Gaheris Rhade?”

“Why yes…you’ve heard of him, of course. He’s so fabulous.”

Harper rolls his eyes. “How good for you…but, um, this is so not going to work.”

“It will work. I am to get you cleaned up and rehearse you on the house rules.”

“I’m not staying.” There is no way that he is staying here. The idea of Tyr pouncing on him and demanding that he give it up is more than enough motivation to flee. He has to get out of here and fast.

Dylan looks at Harper and smiles condescendingly. “Right. Now, are you ready to get up and get dressed?”

Harper tucks the sheet more tightly around his waist. He leans down to set the empty glass and tray on the floor. He needs clothes if he is going to roam the ship and find a way out of this mess. He might as well cooperate that far. “Sure. Just throw me the clothes that I came in and I’ll get dressed.”

Dylan sniffs disdainfully. “Those rags? You don’t want those. Your last master may not have been able to afford to dress you very well but the Archduke can.”

“I didn’t have a master.”

“You…you mean you wore those rags on purpose?” Dylan shudders. “Why would you want to?”

Harper rubs his brow. The pain in his head is slowly diminishing. He’ll get out of the room, dump Dylan somewhere and ride the tesseracts back home. Be gone long before Tyr shows up. “Just give me my rags, Dylan. Okay?”

“I can’t. The Archduke wouldn’t like them.”

Harper looks up and scowls. “Do I look like I care? Give me my damned clothes!”

“I don’t have them.” Dylan huffs. “You’ll just have to wear one of your old self’s outfits.”

“My old self?”

Dylan purses his lips and studies Harper’s pale face. “I suppose this is as good a time as any to clue you in. You’re here to replace the other Harper. He was the Archduke’s companion but he died recently. Bad heart.”

Dylan lowers his voice and moves closer. “Not a bad sort, the old Harper. Very quiet. Not very smart. Not nearly as smart as I am. But he was most eager to please the Archduke. Anyway, the poor thing died and Elssbett, the Archduke’s sister came up with a secret plan to fix things. My Gaheris volunteered to go get you.”

Oh, did he owe this Elssbett bitch, big time. Harper’s hands knot into fists. “And did it occur to anyone that maybe I had a life over there where I was. That maybe I didn’t want to come here.”

Dylan frowns. “Why would they think that? What could be a greater honor for a kludge than serving an Archduke? Particularly this Archduke. Tyr is quite handsome. Almost as handsome as my Rhade. Besides Elssbett and Rhade want you here. The Archduke is…temperamental. He’s much worse than the average Alpha. He would have been very difficult if he found out that Harper was dead. The Archduke was most fond of the old Harper.”

Harper’s eyes narrow. Yeah, now that sounds about right. Rhade and Elssbett are more concerned with pleasing Tyr than what a kludge thinks or feels. Well, they are going to learn to care what this kludge thinks if he can’t get home. If he ends up stuck here, he will devote himself to making them deeply sorry that they ever tangled with one Seamus Z. Harper.

Dylan glances uneasily at Harper’s expression. He turns and looks over his shoulder at the door. “Now this is important. The Archduke doesn’t know that you aren’t the other Harper. And you aren’t to tell him.”

Does that mean that telling the Archduke is his ticket home? In that case, he will confess all the second Anasazi walks in the door. “Oh, really? And why not?”

“Well, you aren’t to tell. Rhade says that Elssbett gave orders for you to keep silent about it.” Dylan frowns sternly.

“And why should I? I have nothing to gain or lose by telling Tyr who I am.”

Dylan shivers. “Elssbett can be quite frightening when she chooses to be and she hates kludges. You don’t want to have her after you. It’s safest to just do what she tells you.”

That is something to think about if he gets stuck here. If Elssbett and Rhade went to this much trouble to find a replacement and conceal his counterpart’s death, they aren’t likely to do anything fatal to him for…misbehaving. In fact, they probably can’t do much to him at all, if the Archduke is so attached to him. He’ll play along for now. No point in showing his hand. Harper forces his face into a bland expression, showing none of his fury. He smiles tightly. “Okay. I’ll keep quiet about it. Well, how about those clothes? What do I have to wear?”

Dylan walks over to a closet and opens it. Inside are Harper sized clothing next to Tyr sized clothing. Dylan holds up a pair of dark blue leather pants. “There’s this?”

Harper frowns. Leather is to be expected since the damned Neits are so fond of it but the pants look several sizes too small. He has no intention of wandering around the ship with his ass hanging out. Especially not if Dylan is correct about Tyr being after it. He shakes his head. “Nope, not wearing that. What else is in there?”

Dylan sighs. He puts the pants back in. He pulls out another pair of leather pants and holds them up. This time in red. Also too small. There is something odd about the pants. Harper leans forward, peering at them.

Harper blinks as Dylan turns the pants around to show off the slashes across the seat that allow the bare skin of his ass to peek through if he wore them. The slashes circle around the flanks and stop just short of the groin.

Dylan smiles encouragingly, taking Harper’s appalled stare for interest. “This is one of the Archduke’s favorites.”

Absolutely not. At least with the first pair of pants if his ass ends up hanging out, it will be an accident. Not the result of deliberate forethought. There must be something else in that damned closet. Harper demands, “Next.”

Dylan rummages in the closet and pulls out a jumble of something vaguely pants-like but in deep green. He shakes it out and holds it up.

Harper leans back against the pillows as he eyes the green leather flap that would just barely cover his groin and the collection of thin leather straps that would stretch over his ass. He is seeing a trend here and he does not like it. This one is worse than the red pants. He really can’t deal with this. With the idea of anyone seeing him in that. Ever.
“There’s nothing there! My jewels will hang out. It’s just green strips of nothing!”

Dylan purses his lips. The pale eyes are smugly amused. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, hmmm?”

“You got that right.” Harper folds his arms behind his head. “There’s got to be something in there that’s suitable.”

“Well, we’ve got this number.” Dylan holds up a pair of black leather pants with thin silver chains where the seat of the pants should be.

“Now, you’re starting to piss me off.” Harper warns. His eyes narrow in temper.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so huffy with me. I didn’t buy the things…your Archduke did.”

“Will you stop saying that? He’s not ‘my’ Archduke.” Harper snaps.

“Whatever.” Dylan pulls a few more pairs of leather pants from the closet. Some leave the ass completely bare. Others have decorative chains or leather strips or a series of skin baring cutouts. “There’s not much else here.”

“Let’s have a look at those first pair of leather pants.” Harper sighs. Maybe if he is careful about how he moves, he will be spared the humiliation of flashing his bare ass all over the ship.

Dylan pulls the pants from the closet along with a dark blue silk shirt. “If I may suggest…this shirt will look great with those.”

Harper wiggles to the side of the bed. “Okay. Now turn around I’m getting out of bed.”

Dylan frowns as he fingers his long hair. “Why? I’ve seen everything before.”

“Not on me you haven’t!” Harper snaps. “Now turn around.”

Dylan tosses the items on the foot of the bed and makes a show of turning his back on Harper. Dylan stares at the tapestry with his arms crossed over his chest.

Harper scampers out of bed. He grabs the leather pants and hesitates. He had been so appalled by the pants that he’d forgotten to ask for boxers. He glances at Dylan’s back.

Dylan peeks over his shoulder at the continued silence. “Problem?”

Harper holds the pants protectively in front of his groin. “Where’s my underwear?”

“Your what?”

“Underwear…you know the clothes you wear under others so you don’t chafe?”

“Ahhh…” Dylan turns away. He disappears into the closet and returns holding up a tiny scrap of navy fabric.

Harper takes the scrap and holds it, staring in disbelief. “What the hell is that supposed to be?”

Dylan smiles brightly. “Oh it’s precious. It’s a support thong. It lifts the ‘jewels’, as you call them, and makes them perky and proud. Quite fetching. Presents quite an impressive package in the front of one’s trousers.”

“That’s just wrong in so many ways.” Harper shakes his head.

Dylan walks back to resume his position in front of the tapestry. “Need any help?”

“I’m doing fine thanks.” Harper squeaks as he wiggles into the thong. He scowls over his shoulder, looking down at the way the silk cord bisects his ass. The front view is just as bad, the way the fabric stretches tightly over him, forcing everything up, front and center. “Man, what I wouldn’t give for my old boxers.”

“Hurry up. I’m supposed to give you a tour of the public areas of the ship. We’ll start with the observation deck.” Dylan sighs softly. “It’s quite romantic. I remember the first time that my dear Gaheris took me there.”

Harper grimaces as he squeezes into the tight leather pants. How is he supposed to breathe in these things? He doesn’t dare sit. After a moment’s thought, Harper pulls the silk shirt on and lets it fall softly around him. The tails reach low enough to cover the essentials. “I can hardly wait.”

Dylan turns and looks him over. “You really should tuck that shirt in. It would look so much better. You need to show off your assets, you know.”

“The shirt stays out.” Harper’s tone is firm.

Dylan purses his lips. “Well, have it your way.”

“How about that tour?”

“This way.” Dylan tosses his long hair over his shoulder and stalks out the door.

Harper follows him into another large room. There is a long table and chairs on one end of the room next to a small kitchen area. On the other end is a large couch and more chairs covered in bronze silk. His eyes widen as two large Nietzscheans rise from the chairs. “Whoa! What’s up with these guys?”

“What?” Dylan looks around. He glances disdainfully at the two. “Oh, them. Those are your keepers.”

“My what?” Harper’s voice rises in outrage.

“Your keepers. They will accompany you any time you leave the room. They’re here to guard and protect you. Now, let’s see.” Dylan points, “…that one is Hector and the other one is Janus.”

Harper stares at the two men. How the hell is he going to get where he needs to go with these two hanging around all the time? He had no doubts about his ability to ditch Dylan or even knock him out if need be but these two – how is he going to manage them?

The two guards trade a look and Hector takes a small step forward. A tentative smile flickers on his face. “Hello, there, Harper. We were wondering when you were going to come out. How are you feeling today?”

Harper’s eyes narrow at the redhead’s sugary tone. What is wrong with these people? Hector sounds like Trance crooning to one of her plants. His gaze jumps to the other man. Janus is a heavily muscled man with dark chocolate skin. His head is shaved and one gold stud gleams in his ear.

“Are you feeling well, Harper?” There is a note of anxiety in Janus’s deep voice. “If you feel bad at all just let us know and we will get you to a healer immediately. We have excellent healers on the Andromeda.”

“This ship is the Andromeda?” Harper asks. Now that will be an advantage to the home team. He knows the Andromeda inside and out.

“Yes, this ship is called the Andromeda, Harper.” Hector smiles, brightly encouraging. He glances at Janus and lowers his voice. “This one’s smarter than the other one.”

Janus nods as he studies the new kludge. “Would you like to play a game, Harper? We can play games. Hector and I are very good at fun games. We know all the games that the other klu…Harper liked.”

Oh, he knows some games alright but those will have to wait until he sees what he has to work with. “Yes, I do like games.”

“Well, come on.” Dylan demands impatiently from the doorway. “I don’t have all day, you know.”

Harper walks out after Dylan. He notices that Hector and Janus follow him. He glances over his shoulder and gets nervous smiles from both guards. Harper sighs and looks back at Dylan. “Dylan, are these guys gonna follow me everywhere?”

“Yes. Relax. It’s their job. You won’t even notice them after a while.” Dylan strolls down the corridor at a languid pace.

“I doubt that.” Harper is looking over everything as they walk down the corridor. If this ship is the same as his own Andromeda the next corridor should lead off toward engineering. Harper stops, staring down the corridor. “Hey, what’s down there?”

Dylan sighs and grabs Harper’s arm, pulling him away. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to go over some basic rules.”

“Rules?” Okay, fine. Lay the kludge conduct rules on him. That way, he will know exactly which ones to break first. Harper yanks his arms away from Dylan’s grip.

“Yes. Most of us learn these when we’re first given to our masters.”

“Given? You’re a slave?”

Dylan makes a face. “No, of course not. What an idea! We are bonded, licensed companions. A very select group. We all, except for you, come from houses where we were properly trained to provide exclusive services to discriminating Nietzscheans. ”

“Riiiiight.” Harper shakes his head. Dylan sounds like he is parroting a sales brochure. And he has his suspicions about the nature of the “houses” that Dylan’s select buddies came from. Companions. He snorts. Hos were more like it.

“First rule: Your Master is Always Right. Got that? No matter what the Archduke says he is always right because he is your master…your protector. This is especially important when he contradicts himself. They do that all the time.” Dylan rolls his eyes and sighs. “No need in arguing about it…just accept that he’s always right and everything will be easier.”

“Wait a minute. Why do I need another protector? Isn’t that what these guys are for?” Harper hooks a thumb over his shoulder at Hector and Janus.

“Silly…they’re the Archduke’s eyes and ears when he is not present. He will want to know what you’re doing at all times. That’s one reason they are here.”

“What’s the other reason?” Harper asks.

“They make sure you don’t get into any trouble. Also to protect you from the Archduke’s enemies and others who don’t like you just because you’re a kludge.”

Sounds like he might oughta hang onto old Janus and Hector until he is ready to lose them. Harper glances thoughtfully back at the looming Neits. “Are there very many of those…people who don’t like kludges?”

“There are quite a few, it seems.”

“So where are your keepers?” Harper asks suspiciously.

“I only have them when I’m off the ship. Gaheris keeps up with me on the internal monitors if he wants to know where I am. But I usually just stay where he tells me. It’s much easier. Plus, I don’t really have any reason to wander around the ship.”

“Ahhh…I see.”

Second Rule: Keep to the Public Areas of the Ship.” Dylan turns down another corridor. He stops in front of the door and steps through into a gym area. “If we’re caught in a restricted area we can be punished.”

Damn. He would bet that all the areas that he wants to visit are on the restricted list. Harper looks around the gym in simulated interest. Except for missing a basketball court, it looks much like the one on his Andromeda. Aside from a few discreet glances, the exercising Neits ignore him and Dylan. Oh, well, he would have never gotten off earth if he wasn’t will to run a few risks. “Punished? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Good, then you’ll do as you’re told.” Dylan beams. “So Hector and Janus won’t have to punish you.”

“What?!” Harper glances over his shoulder at the watchful guards. No, he doesn’t want to know. He is not going to ask. Whatever it is, he will deal with it when it happens.

“Never mind that. Third Rule: Wax, Wash, Exfoliate.” Dylan leads the way back to the corridors.

“What the hell does that mean?” Harper has a sinking feeling that he knows. That is so not happening. He’s rather surprised that they didn’t just do it while he was unconscious. Apparently it escaped the notice of all concerned parties that body hair would be a significance physical difference between him and the other Harper. Well, if things got down to Tyr being in a position to discover that he has body hair, he is already in a world of trouble.

Dylan gives him a disdainful look. “Well, I had a peek before you woke up and…frankly…you could stand a wax down there.”

Harper glares at Dylan. “You had a peek?! What were you doing peeking? Never mind. No way is hot wax getting near my…I’m never gonna let that happen.”

“Never say never.” Dylan smirks. “Nietzscheans are quite fond of giving pleasure orally. They like for everything to be all smooth and hairless so you will be waxed. We’ll have to get you an appointment with one of the kludge grooming shops on the planet. We’ll get you all fixed up so your skin will glow and be pleasing to touch.”

“That all the rules?”

Dylan laughs. He reaches up to adjust his pale blue velvet bow. “Goodness no, silly man.”

“I’m not your ‘silly man’…missy.” Harper narrows his eyes in warning.

“No need to get huffy.” Dylan tosses his hair back. “Rule Four: Keep the bottles filled.”

Bottles? What bottles? Is the Archduke a little too fond of alcohol? That might be something that he could work with but somehow, he cannot see any variety of Tyr being controlled by liquor. Harper follows Dylan into a mess hall. He glances around quickly. Yep. Just like the mess halls that he is already familiar with. Hmmm…is that a group of humans in the corner? Yes. It is. A group of scantily dressed males and females are chattering away to each other. “What are you talking about? What bottles? I don’t remember seeing…ummm, Dylan, who are those guys?”

“What? Oh.” Dylan smiles tightly and waves at the table. “Those are some of the other kludges on the Andromeda. Most of them are proper, respectable companions like myself…not that I’d allow myself to associate with any of them. I am, after all, the Captain’s kludge. I’m much too valuable to Gaheris to be seen in the company of any of that sort.”

“Really?” Harper rolls his eyes.

“Oh yes. I’m too important to waste my time on them. I spent most of my time with the old Harper. He was respectable and had the status of being the Archduke’s kludge.”

Dylan sniffs as he stares at the table. “Of course the old Harper didn’t fully appreciate the importance of his position. He would even talk to them and eat with them. Even the ones who came from the Stable.” Dylan shudders. “Can you imagine? Those sluts from the Stable are just so common. They’ll do anything and I do mean ‘anything’. I always try to avoid them. They practically reek of that infernal place.”

“The Stable?” Harper asks. “What’s that?”

Dylan looks around and lowers his voice. “The Stable is a holding area on the ship where they keep the kludges that have to service anyone on the ship on demand.”

Harper frowns. Does that mean what he thinks it does? “Service? You mean fuck, right?”

“Crudely put but yes.” Dylan nods. “They have males and females down there, I hear. I’ve never been there, of course. I only know about it because every once in awhile, some officer will take a fancy to one of the common kludges down there and raise the slut to companion status instead of acquiring a respectable companion from an established house…like me.”

“Does that happen often?” Harper smiles at the inquisitive faces. He lifts his hand to wave and Dylan snatches it down.

“Stop it! Don’t encourage them.” Dylan glares at the other humans. “Does what happen?”

Harper turns his gaze back to Dylan. “You know…one of these guys getting to be a companion.”

“Oh, that.” Dylan scoffs. “It doesn’t happen often. They’re just not companion material.”

“I see.”

“Now about those bottles,” Dylan strolls back out of the mess. “You probably didn’t notice all the little bottles sitting around your quarters. You must make sure they stay filled.”

“With what?” Harper asks suspiciously.

“Lubricant.”

“Oh, I am so screwed!” Harper moans. He runs a hand through his hair. He really, really does not want to think about that. The very idea of Tyr wanting, insisting on…Oh, shit, he has to get out of here.

Dylan titters. “Not yet…but you will be.”

“Oh…funny guy. So, why are all the bottles of lube scattered about?”

Dylan leans closer. “Nietzscheans have a very high libido. They want sex all the time. I think it has to do with that drive to procreate…thing. You must be prepared to service the Archduke at anytime…in any location he wants for as long as he wants. He’ll do you with or without the lube. Trust me…you never want it without the lube.”

“For as long as he wants?” Harper stops and stares at Dylan. He does not like the sound of that. “How long will he want it?”

“Well, according to your old self…the Archduke could continue for hours.”

“Oh, god!” Harper moans as he follows Dylan onto the Observation Deck. He stares out at the stars. Maybe the Archduke will be busy. Maybe he will have a couple of days grace before he has to…to…do things.

“Quite right.” Dylan nods briskly. “So, keep the lube bottles filled. Your ass will thank you. Oh, one more thing about lubricant…it comes in flavors.”

“Now, we’re in too much information territory.” Harper drops down on a bench. He does not want to consider the implications of that information.

“Just a word of caution. Do not use the cinnamon or the spearmint. They burn like fire! And that’s the last thing you want on a tender bum.”

Great. Just great. Harper sighs. “Any more rules, Dylan?”

“We’re almost done. Rule Five: Do not speak or make eye contact with any other Nietzscheans. That means you can’t look at or converse with any people other than your master or those that your master has assigned to you.”

Harper shrugs. “That seems straight forward.”

“It is and it will save you untold embarrassment.” Dylan sighs. “Last rule…Rule Six: No Weapons.”

“None?”

“None. It’s not like you need one. Hector and Janus will protect you when the Archduke isn’t around. Kludges caught with a weapon are punished severely. It’s really rather horrible”

“I can imagine.” Well, it’s not worth the risk unless he can get his hands on overwhelming firepower. He should be able to commit more than enough damage without a conventional weapon once he gets his hands on a cyber jack.

“You need to remember all of them…the rules.”

“Uh, yeah. I think the paraphrase of them could be…I’m screwed.” Harper scowls balefully at the cold glow of the stars.

&&&

Hmmmm. Rhade stares down at the report on his screen. Nothing very interesting. It is hard to concentrate on the usual administrative matters when he is wondering about the Archduke and his new kludge. Dylan has been gone a long time. That might be a good sign. If the two kludges took to each other, Dylan would have someone to share his interests in clothes and shopping. He could only listen to such babble for a very limited amount of time. Perhaps he should have selected a more intelligent companion.

Dylan is attractive enough and he could even tolerate the constant chatter about clothes if the kludge revealed some emotions other than distaste and dismay when he demanded sex. Rhade sighs. The house trainers had assured him that Dylan was merely a late bloomer who would come to be enthusiastic with time and positive reinforcement but it’s been over a year since he acquired Dylan…and he can’t help but notice that although Gaius has only had a kludge for a few months, the healer always seems very…satisfied after an evening with…what was the kludge’s name? A quite attractive little thing with red hair. And Gaius had found it in the Stable of all places.

Rhade shakes his head. Perhaps he should have spared himself the expense of acquiring a house kludge. He looks up as Dylan walks in. Rhade smiles as Dylan drops down on a thick cushion beside his chair and leans against his leg. Perhaps he should give it more time. Dylan does show some mild affection. If only the kludge would show less dutiful attentions and more passion. Okay. Positive reinforcement. Rhade strokes the pale brown hair encouragingly. “You look tired, little one.”

Dylan sighs and leans more heavily against Rhade’s leg. “I’m glad that’s over.”

“What’s over?” Rhade pulls the velvet bow loose and runs his fingers through the long hair.

“My time as ‘tour guide’ for that ungrateful kludge.”

Rhade grips his kludge’s long hair and pulls Dylan’s head back. He frowns. He gave his kludge an order to befriend the other one. Has Dylan dared disobey him in addition to everything else? “Dylan…were you rude to the Archduke’s kludge?”

“No…no…I was very nice. I knew you would want me to be nice.” Dylan answers quickly. His gaze flutters evasively away. “It’s just that…”

“What, precious one?” Rhade softens his tone. If Dylan has messed up this opportunity to have a window on the Archduke’s behavior and intentions…Rhade forces a growl back.

“He’s so rude! He didn’t want to wear his clothes. He wanted those horrible old rags back. I didn’t give them to him. I had them incinerated. Horrible.”

Rhade releases his grip on the long, brown hair. Sounds like a typical kludge squabble. If there is nothing more involved, it should be easy enough for Dylan to smooth things over with the Archduke’s favorite. Perhaps Dylan has not messed up too badly. “Anything else?”

“I gave him a tour of the ship’s public areas. I left him on the Observation deck.” Dylan shrugs. “He seems to like it.”

“Dylan.” Rhade begins with forced patience. He resumes stroking the long hair. “I want you to befriend the kludge. It’s important that you are close to him. That, in turn, puts me close to the Archduke. You see?”

Dylan pouts. He looks up from under his lashes. “He isn’t very nice. I tried to help him with his clothes but he’s so hard to please.”

Rhade smiles. His black eyes gleam with amusement at the idea of the Archduke’s kludge being as difficult as the Archduke. Well, that should keep Anasazi’s attention engaged. “Perhaps you should take him shopping. You like to shop, Dylan. You could help Harper find some new clothes. I am certain that he would benefit from your guidance. Your keepers could take the both of you down if the Archduke agrees. Wouldn’t that be fun, Dylan?”

“Yes.” Dylan nods. “He does need help with his clothes.”

Rhade bends to kiss Dylan and receives the usual half-hearted response. He lifts his head and looks down into the pale eyes. “This all works to our advantage. Just play nice with Harper and we will all benefit.”

“You really want me to be nice to him?” Dylan asks as he slides a hand up Rhade’s thigh.

“You’re not going to distract me.” Rhade takes Dylan’s hand and kisses it. And especially not the way that Dylan went about it. On the rare occasions when the kludge initiated anything, Dylan touched him like he was a piece of machinery that needed adjusting. It has not escaped his attention that those occasions are always coincided with Dylan wanting something or seeking to evade trouble.

“Please Gaheris. I thought you’d want me to…relax you.” Dylan smiles falsely up at Rhade.

Rhade sighs. Here Dylan goes again. Very well. He will give this positive reinforcement business one last chance. He has been trying it for a year with no positive results and he is getting tired of coaxing. “I could relax with a massage, sweet one. I’ll meet you in the bedroom. Be ready when I get there.”

Dylan flinches and looks away. “Um, Gaheris…I think I hurt my hand while I had the kludge with me. I can’t give you a proper massage.”

Rhade leans back in his chair and frowns down at the kludge. Typical. Dylan wants the material favors that go with being the Captain’s kludge but does not want to do anything to earn them. Last night had been most dissatisfying. He had achieved relief but it had been joyless. Dylan had brought him off as efficiently as possible with as little contact as possible. Afterwards Dylan had grimaced in distaste and headed straight for the bathroom to brush his teeth again. Rhade growls. “You will befriend Harper and get us positioned close to the Archduke. We will have his ear. So, you will be nice to the little human. Do you understand me?”

Dylan pouts again. His head droops at the stern tone.

Rhade cups Dylan’s chin, lifting the kludge’s head up. He forces a coaxing tone. “Do it for me, little one.”

Dylan smiles. “Of course, Gaheris, anything for you.”

“Good. You will have your opportunity soon. We are invited to dine at the Archduke’s table tonight. Be nice to Harper and set a good example for him.”

&&&&


Tyr sighs as he walks into his quarters. He is meeting Rhade and Elssbett for dinner. His sister will be eager to hear any news of the negotiations. He may just keep her waiting after her little stunt with his kludge companion. How could she think that he would not immediately note any differences? He had not achieved his current status without being very observant.

Where is his new kludge? Is it shy or hiding from him? The soft sound of leather shifting on silk catches his attention and he moves further into the room. There. Tyr spots the new Harper curled up among the silk cushions of the couch. The kludge is frowning over a flexi. How charming. It can read. He won’t have to go to the trouble of trying to educate it.

His gaze moves assessingly over his new human. The hair is blonder and shorter. The aggressively bristling spikes make him smile. The shorter hair exposes the vulnerable line of pale throat in a way that is exciting. Hmmm. There is a dataport on the throat. The kludge must be highly intelligent. Intriguing. The dark blue silk shirt contrasts pleasingly with the pale skin and blonde hair. The soft cling of the silk outlines solidly muscled shoulders and arms. This Harper looks to be in much better shape and up to more vigorous attentions.

Tyr eases closer. This new Harper is very promising and alluring. Soon. Soon, he’ll enjoy the talents of this new one. He can already feel the hard tension in his thighs and stomach growing merely from looking at his new human. Now, what will afford him the most amusement? Should he reveal that he knows that this is a new Harper? Or go on with the charade that it’s his old Harper? Of all the persons involved this little scheme only Rhade and Gaius know that he knows about the ‘replace Harper’ scheme. He might as well play the charade for as long as it suits him.

Hector and Janus are watching him carefully, warily. Their expressions of mingled dread and hope are most amusing. Tyr breathes in the refreshing scent of their rising fear. He walks closer, ignoring the guards and pretending to look for his new kludge. “Harper? Harper, where are you, sweet boy?”

Harper starts violently, dropping the flexi on his lap. His shocked blue eyes look especially vivid in the paleness of his face.

Tyr puts a reproachful expression on his face as he leans over the back of the couch. “Ahhh…there you are! Why have you not given me my greeting? Are you pouting?”

Harper smiles weakly. “Hello, Tyr.”

Tyr strokes his hand down the human’s face, cupping Harper’s cheek. He watches as the human’s eyes get bigger and bigger as he slowly leans lower. The scent of fear is rising from the small human. His lips settle firmly over the human’s. He nips in warning at the lower lip and Harper yields, opening his mouth. Tyr presses the human’s mouth open wider and leisurely explores with his tongue, ignoring the lack of response. Ummm. This one tastes wonderful and smells perfectly delicious. Perhaps he can win a response form the human another way. Tyr moves his mouth aggressively over Harper’s and growls softly. The human’s cool lips begin to tentatively move against him. The cool velvet tongue hesitantly strokes against his own. There is a very faint scent of arousal mingling with the fear.

Tyr pulls back and studies the bewildered look in the blue eyes and the swollen lips with satisfaction. Tyr feigns puzzlement. “Harper? What’s wrong? You aren’t responding with your usual enthusiasm.”

“He hasn’t quite been himself, sir.” Hector bows in greeting. His gaze flickers nervously between Tyr and Harper.

“He hasn’t?” Tyr asks. He slides his hand down the line of the human’s throat to rest over blue silk covering Harper’s chest. He can hear and feel the quick race of the human’s heart. His thumb rubs over a nipple outlined by the clinging silk. “What’s the matter, little one…is it your heart?”

“I’m fine.” Harper manages to squeak.

“Why are you afraid?” Tyr nuzzles the pale throat, inhaling the scent. “What have you done that you think will displease me?”

“I…I’ve just been waiting to see you.” Harper pulls back, pressing against the cushion. He looks at his keepers.

Tyr notes the look. Perhaps some privacy will encourage his new Harper. “You want to have some alone time with me, don’t you? Come, there’s some time before the dinner.”

Tyr sweeps Harper into his arms and strides toward his inner chambers. His new kludge is stiff with panic. Tyr smiles. He is beginning to suspect that his new companion has not been trained at all. The idea of training his own kludge pleases him. He will teach his new Harper not to fear him and soon his new human will be yielding freely to him. How to put the little human at ease? Ah, a massage will be just the thing. He will have the pleasure of Harper’s hands on his body and Harper will begin to become accustomed to him.

The doors to Tyr’s inner chambers hiss open. “Engage privacy mode.”

The cool, feminine voice of the ship responds. “Privacy mode engaged. Authorization Archduke Tyr Anasazi.”

Tyr notices the look of sudden interest on his little human’s face. He smiles. “The ships artificial intelligence voice always fascinates you, doesn’t it, little one?”

“Yes.”

Tyr carries Harper into the bedroom and sets him down on the bed. “I think we have time to indulge ourselves for a bit.”

“We do?” Harper jumps off the bed and begins inching away.

Tyr removes his boots, tossing them into the corner. He stretches and glances sidelong at his new Harper. “You will undress me.”

He stands, watching as the human cautiously approaches. How smart is his new Harper? Will the human try to draw out the undressing in hopes of cutting down on the amount of time that he will have for other things? The long, black leather jacket is eased slowly down his arms. Harper with apparent meekness disappears into the closet with the jacket.

Tyr’s lips quirk in amusement. Ah, good. This Harper is significantly smarter than the other one. The old Harper would never have considered such a ploy or had the nerve to implement it. This is going to be fun. How long will the kludge figure that he can reasonably stretch hanging up the jacket?

Several minutes passed before the small human reluctantly leaves the closet. The deft fingers ease the silver buttons free down the side of his black leather vest. Tyr stands still, pretending to be unaware of the many quick glances at him. Harper disappears into the closet again with the vest. Time to speed things up a little. Tyr pulls his black silk shirt off and tosses it into the closet. “Hang that up too, while you are in there.”

Slowly the human comes dragging out. The alarmed blue eyes skitter over his bare chest and apprehensively settle on his leather pants. His other Harper would have taken them off him and had Tyr’s shaft deep in his throat before the doors hissed closed. This one is shy…how charming.

Tyr waits as the small human walks closer. He looks down, watching as the clever fingers slip free the sliver buttons on each side of his hip. The sight is immensely arousing. Tyr shivers as his new Harper kneels in front of him, pulling the leather pants down. The human keeps his eyes firmly averted while he does so. Hmmm. Could it be that his new Harper has never been with a man? He likes the idea. He likes it a great deal. Shall he give the kludge a choice and see?

Tyr saunters over to the bed and lies down on his stomach. He studies his human through a veil of braids. “Now, how will you have me? Will you give your master a massage? Or would you rather I take your ass…since we’ve been apart so long.”

Harper’s eyes get very large. “I think I’d like the massage.”

“Good. I can use the release.” Tyr glances at Harper. He licks his lips. Oh, yes. This is going to be good. He can already feel his mood lightening. Perhaps he will reward Elssbett for bringing this new pleasure to him by discussing the negotiations. He lowers his voice to a deep throaty growl. “Quickly now. Get out of those clothes and come here.”

“Get out of the clothes?” Harper takes a step back.

Tyr stretches languidly on the big soft bed. “Yes. Remember how you got oil on that other pair of leathers. We had to buy you new ones. And you know how I like to feel your skin on mine.”

Harper slowly wiggles out of the tight leather pants and drops them on the floor. Hmmm. The solid strength of the bare thighs showing below the silk shirt is intriguing and promising. Harper flicks a sidelong look at him and with obvious reluctance unfastens the silk shirt and drops it on top of the pants.

Oh, yes. Tyr licks his lips slowly as he stares at the bulge cradled by the thong. He watches eagerly as the thong slides down. Oh, yes. He scans the long, thick shaft and the plump fullness of the sac below. It is surrounded by a charming froth of pale gold curls. He asks softly, “What’s the matter, love?”

“Ummm…ahh…”

Time to drop another hint. Tyr laughs. “Don’t tell me you forgot where the oil is again?”

Harper nods. His gaze flickers warily over Tyr and drifts longingly toward the closed door leading to the outer chambers.

“It’s in the drawer by the bed, remember?”

“Oh, yes…sorry, Tyr.” Harper gets the oil and crawls on the bed beside Tyr. He pours some into his hand and begins rubbing Tyr’s back.

Tyr sighs contentedly as the cool, strong hands move over his back. Mmmm. Very nice. Time for a little more provocation. “You know I like to feel you sitting on my back when you massage me. Why are you behaving so strangely?”

“I’m just excited to see you.”

“That feels so good.” Tyr closes his eyes in bliss. Harper’s weight settles over the tops of his thighs. This Harper has strong hands that work the kinks out of his muscles efficiently. His little Harper had only used the massage as a prequel to sex. This one is amazingly good at massage.

Mmmmm, yes. Every time that Harper leans forward to massage his shoulders, Tyr can feel the soft press of Harper’s sac and the firming length of cock nudging along the cleft of his ass. Tyr smiles against the hard muscles of his folded arms. So, the little human is becoming aroused in spite of his fear. Tyr groans and flexes his ass cheeks squeezing Harper’s cock briefly between them. Harper gasps and thrusts involuntary against him.

“That’s good, little one. Now let me turn over so you can do my front.” Tyr waits for the human to rise up on his knees. He flips over, smiling at the sight of Harper straddling him. “Come…sit here on my thighs.”

Harper remains on his knees. His gaze is locked onto the swollen length of Tyr’s shaft. Tyr runs his hands up the pale thighs, rejoicing in the feel of firm muscles under his palms and the human’s nervous shying away as his hands move higher. He cups the plump weigh of the human’s sac in his palm. He strokes curious fingers over the soft froth of gold curls. “Why so shy, sweet boy? You usually can’t wait to rub your cock over mine and offer to suck me. What is wrong?”

“Oh…Tyr…I know you are tired from your trip…and…and…you want to rest before dinner.” Harper is looking away. A blush is rising up his face as his shaft rises and lengthens.

“Having my cock buried in your sweet, tight little body will relax me.” Tyr murmurs mischievously. He pauses just long enough for panic to begin filling the wide blues eyes before offering an alternative. “Or you could bring me with your mouth…surprise me.”

Tyr lies back, stroking the pale, strong thighs as he watches the human rapidly weigh and consider options. This Harper is much smarter than the other one. He is very nearly certain that this is all new to Harper. Each sweet response that he has won from Harper is shy and uncertain. Tyr smiles. The scent of arousal is growing stronger. He has the feeling that Harper is surprising himself with his responses.

Tyr watches with half closed eyes as Harper bends down. The pale cool hands touch him. Fingers delicately explore his length. Tyr arches up into the firming grasp with a groan. A tentative lick from base to tip has him tossing his head back, throatily murmuring encouragement. A slow pattern of licks, kisses and the soft rasp of shaven cheeks has his bone blades fluttering against his arms. The uncertain way that Harper caresses him is only adding to his excitement. He knows now for certain that Harper has never done this. At last the cool, damp of the human’s mouth moves over him. Tyr arches up, growling. His bone blades are full extended now. Harper is finding a rhythm: uncertain and faltering. The knowledge that he is the first to claim this from his new Harper pushes Tyr over the edge. He shudders and yields to the damp pull of Harper’s mouth.

There is a flurry of coughing, choking noises coming from the human. Tyr sits up in alarm. “Harper?”

The human rapidly scurries off to the bathroom, sputtering and coughing. There is the sound of water splashing and spitting.

Tyr lies back bemused. Ah, well, Harper will learn better with time. A smile edges his full mouth. This new Harper is proving to be an endless source of amusement. Tyr waits with his eyes closed for Harper to recover and return. What shall he try next to goad the young man? Tyr opens his eyes and turns his head at the sound of hesitant footsteps heading toward him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…fine.” Harper croaks. He stops well away from the bed and eyes Tyr with barely concealed apprehension.

Too bad he has that boring dinner to go to. His sister is not nearly as entertaining as Harper. Still he should be able to manage to have some fun with Harper. Beginning with getting dressed for dinner. It has not escaped his notice that out of all the things that Harper could have worn, the kludge had selected garments that offered as much coverage as possible. Tyr stretches and stands up, pretending not to notice Harper’s quick step back. “Shall we dress for dinner? We must get back before my guests arrive.”

Relief washes over Harper’s face. He snatches up his pants and shirt. “Yes. Let’s get back to the others.”

“No.”

“No?” Harper holds the clothes over his groin and stares at the big man. The blue eyes are puzzled and wary.

“You’ve already worn those.” Tyr pauses to consider. Now, which pair of revealing pants shall he demand that Harper wear? Oh, yes, he knows just the ones. He had never had the pleasure of seeing his old Harper in that intriguing pair with the chains. “Where are the black ones I just bought you?”

Harper frowns as he glances toward the closet. “You buy me so many things, Tyr. I can’t remember which ones you mean.”

“You don’t remember them?” Tyr asks in simulated puzzlement. Clever Harper to play for time and clues to figure out which pair of pants is wanted. Shall he drop the human a hint? “You asked for them specifically.”

“Oh? Ohhhhh! Those pants!” Harper exclaims knowingly but the blue eyes still have a blank look.

Tyr smiles and drops the hint. “Yes, I love the way the chains caress your ass.”

“I am not wearing those!” Harper blurts before his eyes widen in obvious dismay at the words coming out of his mouth.

Tyr raises his eyebrow and moves closer. His voice lowers ominously. “What did you say?”

“I…I…I’m not wearing those unless you put them on me!” Harper closes his eyes and waits. When did his subconscious develop a death wish? His eyes snap open as a big, warm hand settles on the curve of his ass. He barely restrains a squeak of alarm.

“I really prefer you as you are…but since we’ll be around company I suppose I’ll just have to satisfy myself with the black pants. Get them. Bring them here.”

Harper trudges toward the closet, shoulders drooping. He yanks the black leather pants down and scowls at the rows of silver chains. The absolute last thing he wants to do is flash his fanny at Tyr all evening. Having to…to…put his mouth on Tyr was bad enough.

How did women do that? For a second, he thought that he was going to strangle right there when Tyr…when Tyr…when it happened. What if Tyr wants it again? His mouth still feels sore but better a sore mouth than a sore ass. Harper’s lips thin as he snatches up black silk shirt. Maybe he can kinda cover things up with the shirt. He grabs one of the damned support thongs. A useless thing but the more fabric between him and Tyr the better. He begins backing out of the closet only to freeze at Tyr’s voice.

“No…don’t get the thong…bring the collar.”

“Collar?” Harper’s voice is muffled as he rummages in the closet.

“Yes. The black one with the Kodiak charm.”

“Of course.” Harper grouses. Must be sure that the property is properly marked. It could be worse. At least, the collar is removable.

“You seem to be in a mood tonight.” Tyr levels a cool stare of warning on his new kludge. “Would you rather we stay in and make love all night? I know how you love to have me buried inside you. We have been apart for two days. I’ve missed you, little one.”

Oh, shit. Harper promptly drops the pile of clothing. He can almost feel the blood draining from his face. After getting face to…well, up close and personal with Tyr, he knows damn well that he doesn’t want that Nietzschean anywhere near his ass. He scrambles for an excuse. Any excuse. “Er…um…well. Ah. Tyr you’ve invited all these people. I would hate to be the reason you disappoint them.”

Tyr nods. “Come bring the clothes.”

Harper fumbles with the pile of clothing and brings it to Tyr. Tyr drops the pile on the end of the bed. Harper stands quietly as Tyr picks the collar off the top of the pile. Warm fingers slide over his throat as Tyr fastens the collar high on his throat, covering the dataport. Harper frowns. Wait a second, the other Harper must not have had a dataport because he had searched high and low and not found a jack anywhere in the rooms. That would mean that Tyr knows damn well that—

The thought scatters, as Tyr grips his hair and tilts his head back. The full lips cover his mouth. Harper yields to the firm press of tongue. After what he had done earlier, kissing Tyr doesn’t seem so bad. Kinda harmless really. Sorta like being kissed by a really, really large and aggressive woman…who just happened to be hirsute challenged. Sorta. The full lips are actually very soft. Surprisingly so.

He is beginning to feel a little dizzy and dazed. That must be why he is even thinking about something like Tyr’s lips. That first kiss on the couch had taught him that he isn’t going to be allowed to come up for air until he responds in some way. Harper tentatively eases his tongue inside Tyr’s mouth and begins moving his lips against Tyr’s. It feels almost nice…if Tyr wasn’t a guy, he would not hesitate to rate the Nietzschean a first class kisser. Oh, man, what is he thinking? It’s gotta be oxygen deprivation. Lack of appropriate supplies of oxygen to the brain. Gotta be. Harper places a hand against the solid warmth of Tyr’s chest and pushes firmly.

Tyr slowly raises his head and steps back. He stares hotly at Harper for a long moment and then smiles. Tyr pulls the black silk shirt off the pile and holds it up. He looks at the shirt and then at Harper. “What were you thinking, sweet boy? This shirt isn’t right.”

Harper’s eyes widen as Tyr walks into the closet with the shirt and returns with a black leather vest. Oh, no. That vest won’t cover a damn thing. He looks down at it as Tyr deftly fastens it. The bottom of the vest just barely covers his waist. The top scoops down low, exposing most of his chest and one peach nipple. This is just so wrong.
Harper starts as Tyr bends low and kisses his nipple, nipping it into a tight bead. Tyr steps back and studies the result with blatant satisfaction.

Harper accepts the black leather pants and shimmies into them under Tyr’s fascinated stare. The rows of tiny silver chains fall cool and hard over his ass. If the draft back there didn’t make it impossible to forget that his ass was bare, the constant brush of the chains would. The gleam in Tyr’s amber eyes is making him feel very uneasy. This time Harper cannot stop a squeak of alarm, as Tyr’s big hands are slip under the leather flap, adjusting and cupping him. Arranging his package this way and that before finally fastening the flap.

“There.” Tyr stands back and admires for a moment. “Now fetch my cream silk shirt, Harper.”

Harper finds the shirt and stands on tiptoe to ease it over the wide shoulders, carefully lifting the long hair out of the way. The braids are thick and soft under his hands. He quickly fastens the row of buttons. “What else do you want to wear?”

“That.” Tyr gestures at a silk vest of narrow alternating strips of cream and bronze. Harper settles it around Tyr, his fingering moving nimbly over bronze buttons. It feels weird to be dressing another guy but recent experience has proven that there are worse things to do with Tyr than dress him.

“Next?” Harper asks almost cheerfully.

Moving quickly, Harper soon has Tyr dressed in bronze colored leather pants, jacket and boots. The more clothes that he stuffs Tyr into the safer he feels. At least, until he follows Tyr out of the rooms and into the corridor. The silver chains sway seductively and brush over his skin with each step in endless reminder of his bareness. Harper can feel hot color rising in his face. He feels like the whole ship is staring at his skinny ass. He knows that Tyr is getting an eyeful. He can only beg the Divine that Tyr is not getting any ideas for after dinner entertainment.

Harper looks curiously around as they walk into the room. A strongly built man with dark curls looks vaguely familiar. Dylan is hovering close to him. Must be that damned Rhade guy that dragged him back here. He’s glad to see that Dylan looks as ridiculous as he does. Dylan is wearing a white vest that bares both his nipples and white leather pants that are so tight that it is clear that Dylan isn’t wearing underwear either. The long, brown hair is tied back with a narrow white velvet bow. Well, he may have his ass hanging out but, at least, he doesn’t have to wear sissy ribbons in his hair. Harper sniffs disdainfully.

Harper stiffens as the warm hand wrapped around his nape begins heading south as Tyr stops to mingle and talk with various senior officers. Harper bites his lip against words of outraged protest as Tyr fingers the silver chains and strokes through the gaps between the chains. Harper blushes with the knowledge that everyone behind him, including Rhade and Dylan can see Tyr fondling him. He was wrong, he would rather have a velvet bow in his hair. That would be much less mortifying.

Finally Tyr saunters over to the largest table and sits at the head. Gaheris takes the seat next to him and Elssbett settles down on the other side. The senior officers take their seats. Waiters converge on the table, offering selections of servings.

Harper glances questioningly over at Dylan. His gaze flickers over the handful of other humans scattered around the table. Are they supposed to stand behind the chairs or sit at another table? Dylan smiles at him and picks up a large silk cushion from the other side of Rhade’s chair and drops it on the floor next to the cushion by Tyr’s chair. Dylan sinks down on the cushion and looks encouragingly up at Harper. Harper sighs and folds himself down on his cushion. Harper sniffs hopefully at the tantalizing aromas coming from the table. Will he get anything to eat?

“Good evening, Gaheris.” Tyr glances at his Captain.

“Good evening, Sir.” Gaheris nods. There is an amused glint in the black eyes. “I understand that you were fatigued and decided to rest before dinner. I trust you are refreshed.”

“Yes.” Tyr smiles and strokes Harper’s blonde spikes. “I am much more relaxed now.”

Dylan winks at Harper. Harper rolls his eyes in disgust as Tyr’s fingers trail across his nape.

Tyr turns to his sister. “Elssbett.”

“Brother.”

Harper cranes his neck to get a good look at his enemy, the woman responsible for dragging him here. She’s quite attractive but that’s not going to buy her any mercy from him. Loose black curls cascade down her neck. Her full lips are compressed with distaste under a shiny gloss of purple lipstick. Her long, dark eyes flicker coldly over him and then back to her brother.

“The negotiations go well. We should have good news soon.” Tyr continues to caress the pale skin of Harper’s throat. “I trust my little Harper was not much trouble while I was away.”

Elssbett smiles down at Harper, flashing sharp white teeth. “No. No trouble at all.”

“I suppose I should leave him in your care more often.” Tyr idly runs his fingers through Harper’s hair, toying with the blonde spikes. “He really seems to have thrived.”

Doubt shows for a second in her dark eyes then Elssbett picks up her fork and pokes disdainfully at the items on her plate. “You really have his keepers to thank for most of his care, brother.” Elssbett glances around the room, her dark gaze darting reluctantly over the handful of humans present. “Brother?”

“Yes?”

Elssbett sighs. She picks up a roll and takes a tiny bite before dropping it back on her plate. Her gemmed gauntlets flash in the light as she raises her wine glass to her lips. “Must we always have so many of them around when we dine?”

“What are you speaking about, Elssbett?” Tyr lifts an eyebrow. There is a spark of warning in his amber eyes.

“These damned kludges.” Elssbett says loudly. She throws her napkin down with a disgusted gesture in the sudden silence. “The stench from them is quite sickening. I don’t know how you can stand to be in the same room with one, let alone as many as we have gathered here.”

Harper glances around taking a quick count there are only ten humans present including him. A white-haired Neitzschean in white leathers bending to murmur reassurance to a red-haired human catches his gaze. All of the humans are watching Elssbett with a mix of fear, worry and anger. The Nietzscheans officers are staring at Elssbett with cold, wary eyes. Harper frowns as he looks at Dylan who sits oblivious toying with the bow in his hair. Is Dylan clueless as he seems or just pretending?

“That is not your concern, sister. If you would prefer to have your meals in your quarters, please, by all means do so.” Tyr pitches his voice to carry clearly. He takes a small bowl and fills it with rice from his own plate. He tops the rice with a pile of finely diced vegetables and ladles a spicy sauce over it. He hands the bowl to Harper along with a spoon and glass of water.

Elssbett glances sidelong at Tyr. Her lips flatten in resentment and distaste as her gaze drops to Harper. “I meant no disrespect to you, brother.”

“Is that so? I think not. You may be excused from this dinner if the company offends you.”

“No. I’m fine. Everything is…fine.” Elssbett sips her wine.

Harper meets and holds the dark, cold gaze drilling into him. He raises a disdainful eyebrow and watches as she blinks in surprise. That’s right, bitch. I’m not scared of you. You started something with me when you forced me over here and I’m gonna finish it before I go back. Dylan had said that the last Harper died under her care. She probably killed him on purpose. One more thing to add to her scorecard.

Harper sniffs at the bowl. It smells great. He has not realized how hungry he is until he smells the food. He glances at Dylan and sees him sedately nibbling on a bowl of vegetables and chopped meat. Harper takes a small bite. Yum. At least the food here is great. He digs into with some enthusiasm unaware of Tyr watching him with an indulgent smile as the Nietzschean eats his own meal until Elssbett’s sharp voice makes him raise his head. “Brother, if you can tear yourself away from your pet for a moment, I have a question.”

Harper glances curiously from Elssbett to Tyr. Wow, old Elssbett just didn’t know when to shut up. Is she stupid or just terminally bitchy? Tyr notices his distraction and squeezes his shoulder in a way that is oddly reassuring. “Eat, Harper. If you want more, let me know.”

Tyr sips his wine with a meditative air. He turns to the Captain. “Very nice, Gaheris. This vintage of Pearson Red is exceptionally smooth.”

“My chef recommended it, sir. Knowing your appreciation for a fine red wine, I ordered him to lay some stores of it for the officer’s mess as well as your personal consumption.”

“Good job. Tell your chef that I appreciate his fine taste.”

Gaheris nods. “He will be delighted to hear that it meets with your approval.”

“Brother!” Elssbett snaps. She viciously stabs a piece of meat with her fork but instead of eating, she stares at it as if it is substandard or suspicious.

“Sister?”

“You asked us here to share dinner with you; yet you spend all your time fondling your annoying little kludge. My question is why are we here?” Elssbett scowls at Harper and then Tyr. Her voice carries clearly over the table. There is a sudden hush.

Tyr stares at Elssbett, allowing the silence to build until a flush rises in her face and her eyes lower. When he finally speaks his voice is venomously cold. “That is quite enough out of you, Elssbett. You…all of you…are here because I wish it. You will not question me again sister. Am I understood?”

“Yes, brother.” Elssbett stares down at her plate.

Tyr glances over at Rhade. “I’ll take the reports from you tomorrow, Captain. I will retire to my quarters. I do not wish to be disturbed for any reason until the morning.”

“Of course, sir.” Rhade and the others stand as Tyr gets to his feet.

Harper sets his empty bowl on the floor. Dylan leans over and whispers. “I hope you had a chance to fill those bottles. You’re going to have a long night.”

Harper gives Dylan an appalled stare as he scrambles to his feet. Damn. He was hoping for a chance to get some advice from Dylan on how to deal with…how to avoid choking and things. Harper follows Tyr out the door. He stiffens as a large, warm hand settles over the curves of his ass.

“What is the matter, little one?” Tyr asks as they walk down the corridor. His fingers stray to the edge of the cleft.

Harper walks faster and Tyr’s hand drops away. “Nothing.”

Tyr deliberately falls back. “Walk ahead of me a bit. I want to admire the glint of the silver on your pale cheeks.”

Harper flushes and stomps down the corridor. The chains jangle against him.

Tyr growls. “Very nice. I can’t wait to sink into you when we are alone.”

Harper promptly stumbles as his knees wobble at the idea.

Tyr wraps an arm over Harper’s shoulders and pulls him close. He murmurs throatily, “Would you like me to carry you to our quarters?”

“No…no, I can walk.” Harper slows his pace but all too soon they are back at Tyr’s quarters.

“Ship, engage privacy mode,” Tyr orders as they walk into the suite of rooms.

“Privacy mode engaged. Authorization Archduke Tyr Anasazi.”

Harper backs away, holding up his hand as Tyr stalks closer. “Wait. I need to shower…before we go to bed.”

“An excellent idea.” Tyr begins to remove his clothes.

“What are you doing?” Harper asks warily. He is hoping that the answer will be getting ready to go to sleep but doubts that he will be that lucky.

“Getting ready to shower with my companion, of course.” Tyr chuckles. “What else would I be doing? I enjoy washing you thoroughly.”

“Wonderful.” Harper grumbles.

“Let me help you with those pants.” Tyr peels the leather and chains off Harper. He takes Harper’s hand and leads him into the shower. Warm water flows over them. Tyr pours soap into his hands.

Harper inches away. The shower seems very, very small with the two of them in there. “Tyr, I can really bathe myself.”

“Where’s the fun in that, precious one?” Tyr pulls Harper firmly back against him and begins to massage lather onto Harper’s body. “I want to feel you against me.”

Harper gasps as Tyr’s hands move over his chest, leaving trails of lather behind. His nipples are swiftly rubbed into tight beads. Then the dark hands move lower, stroking and squeezing. Harper tries to shy away from the touch only to find himself with nowhere to go. Tyr’s body is hot and hard, pressed against his back.

“I need you, Harper.” Tyr growls against Harper’s throat.

Harper spins around quickly, stepping out of the shower. “All clean now. Let’s go to bed.”

Harper snags a towel. He rubs himself dry briskly. Tyr turns off the water and gives Harper an amused glance. Tyr towels himself off and tosses the towel in on rack to dry. Tyr saunters out of the bathroom and sprawls out on the bed, waiting.

Harper slows down once he is alone in the room. He neatly folds both towels over the rack, carefully arranging them just so. He putters around for a bit more. Harper walks slowly back into the bedroom. What is he supposed to wear to sleep in? He doesn’t remember seeing anything that looked like pajamas. There are no boxers. Oh, no. He’s supposed to sleep with Tyr nude. This cannot be good.

Tyr lounges on the big bed, watching the play of emotions over Harper’s face. “Come, little one, I have missed my pillow.”

Pillow? What does the crazy Nietzschean mean? There are plenty of pillows on the bed. Harper walks over and allows Tyr to pull him into the bed. Harper sighs with resignation as Tyr arranges him across the pillows. There are much worse things than playing pillow for Tyr. He supposes he will get used to it for however many days he is stuck here. He tries to relax as Tyr lies down and places his head on Harper’s abdomen. This isn’t so bad. Uh oh. Tyr has looped his arm under Harper’s leg and has his hand...

“Meep!” Harper gasps as a warm hand absently strokes his inner thigh then fondles his sac. He is shocked to feel his cock beginning to respond. He hardens more as Tyr drops a soft, affectionate kiss on the tip.

Tyr nuzzles against Harper’s stomach. His braids slide softly over Harper’s chest and stomach. “What was that, Harper?”

“Nothing.”

“Relax. You are as stiff as a board.” Tyr blows his warm breath on Harper’s cock. “Shall I relax you so you are more…pliable?”

“NO! Ah…no. I’m just a bit tense from dinner.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. Positive…never been more certain.”

“Very well…pleasant dreams, little one.” Tyr presses a kiss on the tense stomach muscles.

Harper is shocked. Is this how he’s supposed to sleep? No way. No way. He’s got to get off this crazy ship and back to his own universe.

TBC