Flight 12

Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: MANIPULASEANS

Previously, at the Phallic Tower:

• The physics mandate the Beta-deaths of left-siders Al, Theo and Stan. Ian and Sean manipulate Vic into murdering Al, but Ian, anxious to spare Stan, hides him, telling Sean that Stan was captured by a penis garden. A skeptical Sean checks with Hamish: Stan is not underground and the penis gardens are inactive.

• After Vic bottoms for Seth, he knocks Seth out and, filled with remorse for killing Al, surrenders to the dodecagon. Seth, recovering consciousness, pursues Vic but too late. Instead, he discovers Al's grave. After Sean tells him that Ian has lied about Stan, Seth wonders whom he can trust.

Underground:

• Barry, having gradually earned rewards from Hamish, is allowed to `play' with both Abe and Jordan, each of whom discovers something about himself when playing the submissive role in a bdsm scene.

In flashbacks:

• Sean had tricked Miles into thinking he loved him, and had set him up with Vic, knowing that Vic, as one of the Twelve, would need an `issue' related to his homosexuality.

• • • • • • • • THURSDAY, DECEMBER 20 * * * * * * * *

THE PHALLIC TOWER – AUGIE

It was depressing, so many guys no longer here. Harry, Al, Vic, Stan – all captured by Hamish. With so many of us underground, Seth doesn't have many options for his daily fuck. He hadn't asked me because of the other thing he had to do to me.

• Seth.

• Yeah. Ready to go, Augie?

• I've been thinking.

• Rarely a bad thing. What's up?

• I want to take my turn.

• Your turn.

• Being . . . under you. You can't ask Gary, so there's just Jasper and Tim. It's time I took my turn.

• Augie, you're doing enough already. I hate that I have to use you as my latrine.

• I'm getting used to it. Once it's over, the rest of the day is a piece of cake.

• Augie, the fact that you're willing to bottom for me . . . I don't know how to say this: do you - ?

• Do I accept that I'm gay?

• Yes.

• I guess I have to. I was attracted to Jordan – physically. And when I went underground, I met this guy I knew in high school –

• Alfonso.

• Yeah. And when I had sex with Alfonso . . . I was surprised. Once I got used to it – I . . . liked it.

• Do you still think all homosexuals go to hell?

That was an embarrassing question. But since coming to the island, I began to realize that Pastor Markson was wrong. All of the Twelve – even Ed to some extent – were queer. And some of them were among the best people I have ever known. I was slowly realizing that I had been brainwashed. I still believed in God and prayed to Him every night, but I knew He was a forgiving God – and if homosexuality was a sin, He would forgive me.

But I didn't think it WAS a sin anymore. It was just a different way of loving someone. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. We all sin. No one can cast that stone. But the sins I need to worry about include selfishness. Which is why I need to give myself to Seth, and not be selfish.

• . . . No. Not anymore.

• I'm proud of you, Augie. You've come a long way. It must have been difficult for you.

• It was.

• What about Jordan?

• In what sense?

• Would you get back together if you had the chance?

• . . . I don't think so. . . . Jordan was my wake-up call, Seth. Jordan made me realize who I was. Maybe that was his purpose in life. I do believe God put us on this earth to serve a purpose, and maybe that was part of Jordan's. But I can't ever forgive him for lying to me. And down there, he was really enjoying having sex – with other guys.

• That's too bad. I was hoping it would work out for you two.

• Not every story has a fairy-tale ending.

• A shame that it doesn't.

THE THRONE ROOM – BARRY

Life was improving. When the plane crashed, or whatever it did, and I wound up here as Hamish's personal canine, I thought life couldn't get much lower. Here I was, a goddam bdsm master, and I was being fucked regularly like a goddam twink, forced to wear a puppy-dog-tail dildo and walk on all fours, wiggling my ass so my tail would wag. It was the most humiliating few days of my life. But Hamish knew the real me – we had played together in Santo Domingo (although I did not approve of the ways he 'played'), and he knew that my inner being cried out to dominate. And he had promised me that I would regain that role – eventually. So I played the good dog and hoped I would earn his trust and gain some rewards.

And I did. Gradually, I began to earn favors in the form of fucking privileges. First, there was Phil, although that was an episode I'd rather forget. Then I got access to Abe, followed by Jordan: I gave them both a good hiding – and a good riding. Both enthusiastically welcomed my attentions.

By now most of my sex is as a top. Hamish still has his way with me, but only occasionally. And now that Abe is once again Percy's pet pussycat, I can do him pretty much whenever I want – if Percy's not around.

That was the problem. Hamish's partner has a jealousy streak as wide as the isthmus of Panama. And this morning he walked in while I was putting it to the Trigger Man's boyfriend with all the gusto I could muster.

Percy threw what could charitably be called a hissy-fit. He ordered me out of the sexy young academician. I didn't even have a chance to flog him. And then Percy laid down the law: Abe was HIS exclusive property. I was not to touch him.

Well, that just wasn't fair. When Hamish came in, I waddled over to him in my best doggy-walk and rose up on my knees with my paws – okay, my hands – curled over to simulate a dog begging for treats. This always gladdened Hamish's heart and he reached over and petted me gently on the head.

• Oh, what a good boy you are, Barry. Do you want a reward?

• Yes, Master, if it would please you.

It didn't please everybody, however. Percy stuck his oar in.

• (Percy) He has NOT been a good boy, Hamish. He's been sniffing around Derisian way too often – and by `sniffing around' I mean fucking.

• (Hamish) Oh, Perce, I think my little poochy deserves a little recreation with your kitty, doesn't he?

• (Percy) No. I want exclusive use of him, Hamish, for the remainder of what time he has left. I've cut off Barry's access to him. I expect you to support me in this.

• (Hamish) Boy, Percy is my husband. I cannot deny him this request. Do you understand?

• Yes, Master, of course. But a man has needs. I have rather . . . special needs. You knew me in Santo Domingo, you know what I'm referring to.

• (Hamish) I do.

• You have been generous in allowing me to indulge myself with some of your . . . other guests. If I could continue to do so . . . with somebody. Jordan Murdock, for example.

• (Hamish) Perce?

• (Percy) Let him fuck anybody he pleases, as long as he doesn't touch my pussy.

That is, his pussy's pussy.

• (Hamish) Very well. Barry, you have free rein to play with anyone you please other than Derisian.

Anyone I wanted? I would start with Jordan. And maybe even end there, although I had a hankering to redden the rump of that delectable young man with the jockstrap. Paul, his name was. And maybe savage that handsome little Black boy – although those dreadlocks would have to go. Who knows – I might even pillage that fit British knight, he looks worthy of getting his comeuppance.

What had started off as a very bad day had turned into something very good indeed.

THE PHALLIC TOWER – IAN

Seth was off humiliating Augie as per requirements, and I felt the grass growing under my feet. I was itching to go see how Stan was doing, but I'd have to find an excuse for a three-hour wander: an hour of walking each way, and time for hanky-panky (and a little conversation) once I got there.

I was stuck chatting with Theo, who wanted to talk sports. He was very into what he called athletics', and the exploits of a pair of Bahamian sprinters who had recently come into prominence. My idea of athletics' was American baseball, especially the Cleveland Guardians, but I let him indulge me in his fantasies of the Bahamas becoming a world power rivaling the United States and Jamaica in short-distance track and field.

I wound up going for a walk, but not the one I wanted. Sean proposed that we go on a fruit run. We had bananas and a couple of breadfruit, but Sean said he knew where there were some guava trees, which would provide a variation in our diet. Theo, being bored (as we all often were) decided to accompany us.

We headed off toward the southeast, a direction we hadn't explored much. The ground kept rising, which was surprising, as the island had not been formed in the mold of Guadeloupe, Martinique, or other volcanic islands in the Lesser Antilles. I had to remind myself that we were hundreds of miles west of there and that the island was created from whole cloth and not the natural mechanics of geology.

We arrived at a promontory that could reasonably qualify as a cliff. Sean surveyed the area in disgust.

• Damn! I was sure it was here. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I know it's along this section of the coast, but I'm not sure whether to go north or south from here. Let me go over to the edge and see if I can see along the coast better.

I was a bit nonplussed at Sean's disorientation. Being from Stimulever's home office, I would assume he would know every inch of this island – and not get lost.

Sean wandered over to the edge of the cliff, as Theo and I warned him to be careful. All of a sudden I heard him call out:

• Holy shit! There are people down there! I think there's been another escape!

Another escape? Was that even possible? We were nowhere near the exit point the Egress Room led to. But if the escape had been a day or two ago, maybe they could have moved far enough east to have reached here – where Hamish would be less likely to search.

I joined him to check it out. Theo, skeptical, stayed put. Until Sean exclaimed:

• That's – there's a Black guy down there. Ian, is that Piers?

I reached the precipice and peered over the edge. There was no beach down below, just a series of jagged rocks with waves crashing majestically against them.

But, hearing Piers's name, Theo came rushing over. He gazed down over the edge of the cliff, seeing, as I did, only rocks and no beach occupied by any group of escaped prisoners.

• (Theo) Where? I don't see anybody. Up the coast?

• (Sean) Maybe if you get a little closer, Theo. See? Over there.

Theo moved forward for a better view. As he did, Sean deftly stepped behind the Bahamian, placed his hand on the small of his back, and shoved.

NASSAU, THE BAHAMAS (ALPHAWORLD) – THEO

• Piers, I just had the weirdest dream. It was about our trip to Aruba, only we never got there. Our plane broke apart mid-air, and the next thing I knew we were on an island with ten other guys. We got separated and the flight attendant was hunting us down, and when he caught me he raped me.

• He raped you???

• Yeah, and then he sent me to this underground enclave where everybody was naked and you and I and a lot of others were getting fucked on a regular basis.

• Fascinating. A homoerotic dream and you're not even gay.

• That's why it's so weird. Anyway, this kid organized an escape and we joined it, but we got caught and you and I got bound in a chair twenty-four/seven while being fucked by machines under our seats for hours on end.

• This is making me hot, dude.

• This big guy, heroic type, managed to free me and some others – but not you. We went back up to the surface where several men, also naked, were living in a tower shaped like a giant penis –

• Whoa, Theo, a giant penis? I think you should definitely reconsider how straight you are.

• Totally straight, Piers, I swear. Then one day two guys took me for a walk and one of them pushed me off a cliff. Which is when I woke up.

• Leaving me still in that chair getting fucked by a machine?

• So far as I know, yeah.

• Damned inconsiderate of you, Theo. So, considering that dream – you sure you aren't secretly gay?

• Whoa, keep your hands off me, bro.

• Just joshing. Now, want to discuss plans for next season? We haven't done Shakespeare in a while.

• I've always wanted to do The Tempest.

• Excellent. But we'll need something commercial and low-brow to balance it.

• What about that new play based on Star Trek?

• Ah. We could market them as a pair: "Live long and Prospero."

• Very enterprise-ing.

EN ROUTE TO THE PHALLIC TOWER – SEAN

Ian didn't know that last night I had asked Theo what his favorite tropical fruit was, and he replied `guavas'. I knew there were no guava trees on the island, but I invented an imaginary grove in order to entice Theo to join us. Theo might get suspicious if I asked him to join us, but if it was HIS idea . . .

Ian was a little shocked at Theo's death. I don't know why, he knew it had to be done.

• Man, Sean, that was brutal.

• Remember, Ian, Theo is fine in Alphaworld. He and Piers will be back in Nassau by now.

• Still . . . I mean . . .

• Remember the objective. The Beta-versions of the left-siders have to die, or The Twelve face a horrific future.

Hey, that yarn seemed to work so far, I'll keep spinning it. I added:

• So now it's two down, one to go.

My suggestion that a left-sider was still alive took him aback, as intended. But he recovered quickly.

• Well, Hamish will take care of him in due time. It's his responsibility now, not ours.

• What's his responsibility, Ian?

• Stan. Now that he's underground, if Hamish has to kill him, he will.

• He's not underground, Ian.

• What are you talking about, Sean? I saw him go. The penis garden took him.

• No, it didn't. He's not underground.

• What makes you think that?

• I asked Hamish.

• . . . I thought you couldn't communicate with Hamish.

• I lied.

Ian broke out in a sweat. I had him by the short hairs, and he knew it. What he didn't know was that my cold-blooded murder of Theo had not been cold-blooded at all. It had been excruciatingly difficult, but I couldn't let Ian know that. I needed him to think, `Sean could kill me, too.'

At the moment, Ian exists only in Betaworld. When he came to the island, he disappeared from Alphaworld except in Seth's memory, and the (temporary) memory of anyone Seth mentioned Ian to. Because Seth was the trigger, Thibaut told me there was the theoretical possibility that, if and when Seth returned to Alphaworld, Ian would be restored there, even if he had `died' on the island. But Thibaut wasn't certain. Were I to kill Ian now, most likely he would be dead-dead, not just Beta-dead.

Contrary to what Ian might think, I am not a murderer. Had Theo been the only Theo in existence, I couldn't have pushed him off the cliff. If Ian is the only Ian in existence, I can't murder him. Nor can I stand by idly and let Jordan and Miles – who have no Alpha-lives – die. Which is, ironically, why I have to make sure all left-siders are (Beta-) dead. I had to somehow convince Ian to hold to his word and terminate Stan.

. . . Or do I?

If Ian could lie to me, could I not lie to Stimulever? If Stan stayed well away from a penis garden and avoided the dodecagons (which could detect body weight), Hamish would have no way of knowing that Stan wasn't dead. Theo's body, after all, would probably wash out to sea. I could say that Stan's did, too. We pushed them both off the cliff at the same time.

THE WESTERN BEACH – SETH

When I relieved myself onto Augie, we went to a place a little downstream from where we collected water. He needed to wash off afterwards, and I wanted no possibility that any of the resultant effluvium would foul our drinking water, as unlikely as that might be.

Today, however, Augie proposed that we go to the beach, so that he could rinse off in the ocean. The salt water might be better at wiping out the residual odor, and he might feel cleaner. A good suggestion. The only problem was that his feet and legs would get covered with sand when he came out of the water, so we would need to stop by the creek anyway on the way back to rinse off.

When he felt clean enough to emerge from the ocean, I fucked him, right there on the beach. I went into the water myself – I had forgotten how refreshing it could be to swim nude in the ocean. Both of us were covered with sand by the time we coupled, and I shot my load up his relatively unused rump, loving the feel of the gritty sand adding friction between our copulating bodies.

Augie didn't seem to mind it, either. He complimented me afterwards, saying I was almost as good as Alfonso'. He seemed to think it was a compliment, anyway. I thought: Alfonso is a better fucker than I am?'

But then I got a sense of perspective. I didn't have to be his favorite fucker. I had to be Abe's favorite fucker. And I was thrilled that Augie was taking it up the ass, and learning to like it.

NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER – SEAN

When I returned to the tower, Seth and Augie were returning from their expedition. Jasper, assuming (as I had) that the purpose of their trip had been purely scatological, asked Seth if he wanted Jasper to serve as his sub today. Augie piped up that he had taken on that role today, and that he had surprisingly enjoyed it.

An idea occurred to me. I suddenly had an impetus for having a conversation with Augie. A missing piece in the grand plan.

But first, I needed another conversation with Hamish.

THE PHALLIC TOWER/ THE MEADOW – AUGIE

I wasn't expecting to be treated like some kind of hero. But when Jasper found out I had voluntarily bottomed for Seth, he was so effusive in his praise that it spread among all the tower residents.

Tim came up and offered his encouragement. He confessed it had been difficult for him to bottom for Seth, given that he stuck mostly to oral sex and took the active role when it came to anal.

Ian and Sean had gone out in search of guavas, but had come back empty-handed, due to Sean's faulty memory. But Ian overheard about my sex with Seth and patted me on the back. Sean looked at me with something like admiration – I hadn't really dealt much with Sean, and was surprised when he said he wanted to ask me something he thought I'd be interested in, but could I give him a few minutes first. I said sure, curious about why he'd want to talk to me.

The only people who didn't approach me were Gary and Theo. Theo was off somewhere – call of nature, perhaps, or maybe just a constitutional; anyway, he was safe from the dodecagons – he wasn't a Twelve – and had nothing to worry about if the penis gardens were, indeed, off.

Gary was in Cody mode, and Cody would want no part of any conversation about sex. It was odd how I could tell what persona Gary was just by how he walked. I was grateful he was not Ray, and asked the others not to mention my morning adventure to Ray; I didn't want him to think I might be receptive if he made another attempt to fuck me.

Sean came back from wherever he had been, and said `let's go for a walk". I wasn't sure why we needed to go for a walk for him to ask me what he wanted to ask me, but I knew it was safe. It was past my birthday, so I didn't think a dodecagon could get me anymore. And even if the penis gardens were active, Sean could lend me a sock to protect me if necessary.

We set out along the meadow, when he made a surprising offer.

• Augie, you didn't have to do what you did this morning.

• I know, it just seemed the right thing to do, I didn't want Jasper and Tim to be the only ones. Everyone needs to play his part.

• Except Gary.

• Well, yeah, Gary's different. It's okay. It's like – maybe I'm taking his turn for him.

• You weren't supposed to have to do two things. I think I can get you out of one of them.

My heart leapt at this news.

• Seriously?

• Seriously. Which one would you rather get out of – as if I can't guess.

• Yeah, you can guess. I'll bottom for Seth again, if I don't have to –

• Take his crap?

• Literally. How can you, you know, arrange it?

• Something I didn't tell you. Or anybody else, it will just be our secret, okay?

• Okay.

Wow, Sean trusted me enough to give me a secret? I was going to have to reassess my opinion of him. When he appeared in his helicopter so soon after our escape, I was immediately suspicious. And even though he helped us find the others at the phallic tower – after it had been moved – I questioned his motivations. He worked for Stimulever – why should he go out of his way to help us?

But it looked like he was going out of his way to help me. I needed to hear more.

• So how can you get me out of being pissed and shat upon?

• I've told everyone I can't contact Hamish. But I can. It's a little risky, but I've got a phone hidden in the hollow of a tree. I use it to talk to Hamish. If he knows that you're voluntarily bottoming for Seth, he might be able to get you out of the shit clause.

• I thought it was necessary for `the physics', whatever that means.

• Switzerland will have to run some simulations. If it's still okay, we'll spring you from that requirement.

• Man, that's great.

• I'll show you the phone. In fact, I'll call him while you're there, you can hear for yourself what he thinks.

We walked along the meadow for another fifteen minutes. He said it was another five minutes or so. But before we got there . . .

THE MEADOW – SEAN

Augie reacted when he saw it.

• Oh, gosh, a penis garden. Quick, lend me one of your socks.

• You don't need a sock. It's off.

• But it got Al. And Stan.

• Do you know where I was this morning? I called Hamish to check that these things were switched off. They HAD been on, and that's why Al and Stan were captured but after I called, Hamish made sure they were off. He doesn't want someone to wander into one accidentally before it's their time to go downstairs, and that WOULD disrupt `the physics'.

When the truth doesn't work, try the exact opposite. The penis portals had been off, and I called Hamish a few minutes ago to have them switched on. I needed to give him some time – it needed to be done from Switzerland, and Hamish had to wait to the top of the hour to contact them, but fortunately when I called him, it was ten minutes to. So by now they should be active. I would find out soon enough.

• God, it is beautiful, though, isn't it, Sean?

Yeah, it's active.

• Go ahead, Augie. Go up and embrace the phallus. It's perfectly safe.

THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH

Jasper came running up to me.

• Seth!

• Yeah, what?

• Look!

I turned my head toward where he was pointing. In the distance, something tall and thin poked high up into the sky. And its end was something thicker, like the nub at the end of a pencil with a slide-on eraser. Only this nub was wriggling.

• Shit! Sean told me they were off.

• Yeah, well it looks like this one is on. It got somebody. Who do you think it is?

• Who's still here?

• Ian, Gary, Tim. I haven't seen Theo in a while.

• Damn it to hell. Theo. It fits. I don't know why I trusted him.

• Theo?

• Sean. Al, Stan, Theo – all taken by a damn penis garden. The three left-siders who escaped.

Al, of course, had another fate, but Jasper didn't know that.

Suddenly, the tall pole vanished, slipping into the earth with its human cargo. Sean must have been sent here to retrieve the left-siders for Hamish. Or dispose of them.

• Seth?

• Yeah?

• Sean's not here either. Do you think he has a hand in this?

• Oh, yeah, Jasper. I think he's ass-deep in this.

• Then it might not be Theo.

• What do you mean?

• I saw Sean go off with Augie.

MILES'S CELL – MILES

• Thank you for your contribution. When I tie these together, they'll make a cute little mini-flogger. Well, you've got a cute little ass on your cute little body, I imagine they'll be a good warm-up before I turn to something more serious.

I felt naked without my dreads. That seems like a stupid thing to say, given that I've been actually naked for the last ten days, ever since Vic and I made love in the meadow and I stupidly wandered into the penis garden. But down here (aside from Hamish and Percy) everyone is naked, and I've gotten used to it – it feels completely natural. But taking away my dreads makes me FEEL naked.

His name was Barry. When I'd seen him before, he was usually on all fours with a puppy-dog tail sticking out of his ass. He was Hamish's pet pooch. But today, he swaggered into my room, with none of the subservience to Hamish previously evident. As if HE was Hamish and could do what he pleased. He arrived with a knife, a razor and a long paddle, and his first act was to use the knife to sever my dreads. They weren't that long, only about eight inches, but they were still my identity. Then he used the razor to shave my head. He didn't stop there. I had tight little curls all over my body, and soon tight little curls littered the floor. After making me sweep them up, he fucked me.

Barry was, I have to admit, well-hung, and he was an excellent fucker. I was used to getting plowed by a mammoth organ – Vic was huge – and the sex was the highlight of Barry's visit.

Then he pulverized my ass, swinging the paddle full force with both hands. He made me count the swats out loud – one sir, two sir – as if he was my master and not Hamish's dog. I wonder if Hamish knew about this.

We were up to `eighty-seven, sir' when I heard a voice:

• Hey! Leave him alone!

Barry stepped away to see who had the temerity to address him with that degree of sternness. I didn't need to look. I recognized that voice. That was Vic.

VIC!

When I was topside with Jordan, I had learned about the dodecagons – essentially traps designed to capture each of the Twelve on their respective birthdays. And I knew that Vic's birthday was December 19th – yesterday. Only I'd gotten so caught up in the day-to-day affairs of life in this brutal environment that I'd failed to put two and two together. So hearing Vic's voice came as a complete shock to me.

Vic outweighed Barry by a good bit and it was all muscle, but Hamish's puppy dog was not particularly intimidated by that fact.

• Ah, it's the musclebound physical trainer. What do they call you? Torrance. They're real intimate down here, they're on a last name basis. Well, Torrance, let me finish up here and you can have sloppy seconds if you like. From the looks of you, that's what you'd like.

Barry added on thirteen quick strokes of the paddle to get me up to an even hundred and then left my cell, leaving me rubbing my sore behind, and slowly turning around to face a man who adored me, but about whom I had ambivalent feelings.

• Oh, God, Miles, I'm so glad you're alive.

His face – and body – conveyed a multitude of emotions. The reason for Barry's last sentence was obvious – Vic's interest in me was evident and parallel to the floor. His face was filled with love, adoration, relief – and something else. I wasn't sure what, but it was complex.

He rushed over and hugged me. I hugged back, pushing his giant cock out of the way to avoid getting poked in the belly-button. The warmth of his powerful arms on my bare skin, the tension in his thighs as they pressed against mine, his dozens of tattoos, the very smell of him – were like the world's most powerful aphrodisiac, and soon I was as hard as he was, and we grabbed each other's cocks with one hand while the other curled around a waist.

• I see you missed me, too.

Well, my body sure did, even minutes after having had sex. But he continued, and it was time for that complex part of his face to emerge. It looked like doubt.

• You did, didn't you? I apologize for asking, but Al said that –

• Al?

• Little white guy, twenty or so?

Oh, him. Casey, they called him. Last name basis, as Barry had said. Shit. We had shared a Fuck Room experience, possibly because we were of a similar size (though I had an inch or two on him in both places you might think to measure). And I had blurted out something I shouldn't have.

I would have to tell Vic the truth. Vic was a decent guy, the sex was great, and I was fond of him. But was it love? Maybe if I'd never met Sean, it could have developed – I'll never know. But I embarked upon that relationship head-over-heels in love with Sean, and Vic – well, it wasn't quite the same.

But I didn't want to hurt him. Fortunately, he continued on before I needed to respond.

• Al said you were fooling your boyfriend and were really in love with someone else. I thought: was I that boyfriend? Were you just stringing me along? I was jealous, Miles. But Al was lying, right? He made up that story? Ian said you told him you were still in love with me – yes?

Okay, moment of truth. I did not want to lie to Vic. Neither did I want to tell him the truth. Maybe I could tell part of the truth.

• I may not have used those exact words to Ian.

I barely knew who Ian was – the lieutenant who escaped. I'm not sure that he said more than two words to me. Surely, we had never had a conversation about Vic.

• And then Sean said that when he was down here, he could tell you still loved me.

Sean'? Vic knew Sean? MY Sean? It was a common name, but there was no Sean' among the Twelve. But if MY Sean had ever been underground, he hadn't stopped off to see me.

• When you say `Sean', do you mean - ?

• Sean. The guy who brought you and Jordan to the island.

• He's back?

• You don't know he's back? He said he'd been down here, he spoke to you.

• Vic, Jordan told me he was coming back to the island, but the last time I saw Sean, he was getting into his helicopter and flying away. That was two weeks ago.

• But you do still love me, right?

I had to come clean with Vic, but now was not the time. I could read the anxiety in his face, and I just couldn't say it. It was such a handsome face besides, and his scent – I mean, how can you tell a guy you don't love him when you have hold of his cock and pre-cum is dripping out of yours? And he was a sweet guy, I just couldn't do it now.

• Yes, I love you, Vic.

And maybe at that moment I did, who knows? I felt something for the guy, that was for sure. But that look on his face reappeared – that complex something that was more than just love. It hadn't gone away with the assurance that he had my love. There was something else. Something that looked like . . . pain.

• What is it?

• Oh, Miles, I do so love you. But I did something terrible. For you.

• What? What could you do that's so terrible? You're not a terrible person.

• I killed a man.

• . . . (WTF?)

• . . .

• Do you want to talk about it?

• No. But I have to. It was Al – the guy who lied about you.

• You killed him because he lied about me???

• No. I couldn't do that. But – you know about this Project, right?

Oh yes. I know about The Project – although I don't think I know ENOUGH about The Project. But it was the reason we were both here, and the reason we got together in the first place.

• Ian said that if the Project fails, we're all in for the most miserable year of our lives – and you and I will be apart – but if it succeeds, we'll be together, and happy. But for the Project to succeed, it needs all the left-siders to die, including Al. But they won't really be dead, just here in Betaworld, because back in the real world, they're still fine.

• And you killed Al? YOU did?

• . . . Yeah. I did.

• Why you?

• They said if I didn't – if Al didn't die, that they would kill you and Jordan instead. Miles, I couldn't let that happen. I know you don't exist anymore in Alphaworld, so if they killed you, you'd be really dead, while Alpha-Al would be fine back in Syracuse. That's why I let the dodecagon take me. I needed to be here with you, Miles. I won't let them kill you – if necessary I'll step in as a replacement. You've only got one life, I've got two.

• Vic, that's sweet. But, Vic?

• Yeah?

• How do you know you have two?

• Sean told me that –

• You only have Sean's word that you're still alive in Alphaworld.

• You don't think I can trust his word?

• At this point, I don't think we can trust anybody.

That may have been the truest thing I said in the whole conversation. How much of what Sean had told me could I trust? Did he love me as he'd professed – or had he just been manipulating me into advancing The Project? He had lied to Vic about me – had he lied about Betaworld? I was convinced we were in an alternate universe, but did Vic exist simultaneously in both places? Did Al? What if there was no Alpha-Al, and he was actually dead? Then Vic was a murderer! I hoped Vic wasn't asking that question – but I felt certain he was. And he had done it . . . for me.

I was beginning to suspect I'd been in love with the wrong man. Why couldn't I have seen it before? It was more than just sex. Vic was – Vic was someone I could love, if only I gave myself the chance.

But I had just lied to him about what I had said to Al Casey. And I was sitting prominently on the horns of a dilemma. If I told Vic the truth about Sean, I would lose him. But if I wanted to keep him, I couldn't sustain that relationship on a lie that would last forever.

Sometimes the decisions you make in life just suck.

NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER – SEAN

• Hamish.

• Hello, Sean. Got your latest delivery.

• Augie?

• Stapleton, yes. Switzerland can turn the penis portals back off?

• Yes, we don't need them anymore.

• So, let's just check on the parameters. The left-siders?

• All dead. Torrance strangled Casey, you know.

• Yes, he was very forthright about that when we asked him about it. I think he's regretting that now.

• He won't. He's looking forward to life with Miles King after this is all over.

• King is going to be executed on the 29th or the 31st.

Not if I can help it.

• And this morning, we pushed Sebold and Kowalczyk off a cliff. Ian and I, one apiece.

• Excellent. So much for the left-siders. Now, did Herrick relieve himself on Stapleton every day?

• Every day. Stapleton will confirm that.

• He'll have to go back to his enema routine here.

• That won't make him happy.

• The Project isn't about happy. It's about achieving an objective.

• And Herrick's fucked a Twelve every day. Stapleton even volunteered today, a surprise.

• Also excellent. So he's just got the last objective to accomplish while he's on the surface.

• Which won't happen until after Christmas, of course.

• Of course. You have to make sure he does it, Sean. It won't be something he's happy about doing.

That was for sure. And if I never told him about it, it might just ruin the Project.

[COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT – THE THING WITH FEATHERS]