“Holy Toledo! Somebody really wants to blow up the universe, don't they?” Harper exclaimed, once he read the complicated and secret formula. Being a genius, he recognized it's volatile properties right away.
“That is precisely what we are trying to prevent.” Tyr replied.
They were again closeted in Harper's inner sanctum. Only this time there was no music playing, only “Eco Sounds”. This particular cycle was called “Caribbean Sunlight”. It was ocean sounds, sea gulls with a soft steel band playing in the background. Like Harper, Monique was an avid surfer and loved the beach. Harper was seriously trying to expand his horizons where music was concerned.
“I thought this going to be a piece of cake, just fudge a couple of numbers here and there and render the thing useless. But with this compound, that's not gonna happen. Since it has multitudinous applications, it's gonna have to practically be rewritten line by line. And that's gonna take time, Brother.” Harper stated. “How much time do we have?” Harper asked as he started rummaging. He stopped and gazed at the unfinished half of Tyr's tuna sandwich. "Hey, are you gonna eat that? he asked.
“We have until we return to Deep Space Ten.” Tyr replied, as he waved at Harper to take the sandwich. Harper fished out a can of Sparky Cola to wash down the sandwich and ate while Tyr continued to explain.
According to the time table given him by HaxHis, once they returned they were going to host a large Romulan delegation. Some Romulan hot shots and big wigs were coming in to see the station, and of course, that meant another hated “state dinner”.
During selfsame dinner unknown Vulcan/Romulan operative(s) were slated to physically exchange the memory disc containing the formula with the Romulan operative(s) on “the other side”.
Tyr was flabbergasted that in this ultra modern day and era, people were still relying on the “drop” method to exchange information and goods. But, supposedly the survivalist minded Rhimaha were not all that enamored of technology, which could be compromised and or fail. Of course, all of this information was coming from Solon.
For perhaps the 90th time Tyr wondered “Who is Solon, and who's side was he on?” He was officially told by HaxHis that Solon was a Vulcan Healer by trade, but he was also a freelance entrepreneur. A dealer in “Kivas and Trilliam”, in Starfleet undercover terms, this meant the man was a “spy”.
“Perhaps he is a double agent.” Tyr thought. He reminded himself to ask Lieutenant Commander Johanna Two Wolves ( temporary head of Security while Xena was out ) to keep a couple of eyes on him, and monitor all of his communications.
“If I find he is complicit . . . . . “ Tyr thought, fiercely. “Perhaps I can arrange for some kind of accident. . . . .”
“I wish volunteer my services if necessary.” Tyr replied. Again, squashing thoughts of murder.
“Nah, Tyr! You've got enough . . . . . .” Harper started, then noticed the flash of sadness in Tyr's eyes. “Look, you're welcome to come down here anytime.” he continued. He'd totally forgotten the errand which had them hurling towards Pinnacle in the first place. “I'll get Noni to help too.”
Of course, she was going to help by monitoring if he had plenty of sleep, worked out, and ate properly. And would shoulder some of the burden too.
Harper grew up as an orphan on a poor backwater world, who's name he could not remember ( shrinks claimed he was too traumatized to ever recall it ). He had to fight for every scrap of food and clothing he possessed. His fighting technique was not the best, but he managed to hold his own. This was heaven for Seamus, and he was grateful to share some of the love. Even if it was with the big stubborn Nietzschean. Big, stubborn Nietzscheans needed love too.
“As of yesterday, everything's been squared away in Engineering. You wanna start now?” Harper asked.
“I don't see why not.” Tyr replied.
“Let's git 'er done!” Harper said.
NOTE TO READERS The last statement is regularly made by "Larry The Cable Guy..."
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