Flight 12

Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER FIFTY: THE DECISION

Previously:

Seth's final task is to behead Abe – which, he is told, will result in Abe's survival in the new multiverse. Seth asks what happens if he refuses, and is presented with a nightmare scenario in which all the captives face grim futures. Many die – including Abe, who is blown apart by a terrorist bomb – some are incarcerated, others face loss of income, reputation, and romance. Seth rejects the video as a fabrication.

When Jesús learns this, he threatens to behead all of Hamish's prisoners – and since they have no Alpha-lives, they would not continue onward if The Project is launched. Sean, who has been pretending (for Jesús's sake) to back The Project, reveals his true stripes and turns against it, telling Seth that Abe has no Alpha-life, and that if he launches The Project by executing Abe, Abe will not survive to see it.

This chapter begins moments before the end of the previous chapter, at about seven minutes before midnight.

THE WHITE ROOM – SEAN

This was the moment. I had played the only card I had – that Abe had no Alpha-life. It was a lie, of course – Abe had an Alpha-life, and if Seth launched The Project, Abe would exist in the multiverse.

I have lied often enough over the course of the last two weeks – and, indeed, over the last five years – for Seth to doubt me. But Seth clearly doubts Jesús as well; the question is which of us he will believe.

My professions of love were not a lie. I hope he recognizes that. I really, truly have fallen in love with him. I really, truly want to spend eternity with him. That can happen only if The Project fails. Abe and Seth would go back to Cleveland and Abe would live – until Abe's `accident', after which I would swoop in as consoler-in-chief, and Seth would fall into my arms; if he didn't, I'd abduct him and force him to be my slave. Involuntary slavery is never a good beginning, but eventually it would evolve into a mutually loving relationship, I had no doubt of that. Seth and I would have a happy life, even if he spent it naked and confined in my isolated chalet in the Alps.

But If he chose to launch The Project – if he believed that he could only save Abe by killing him – then I was condemned to govern Lesboworld – without Seth, without any men at all, except for that one day a month when one of the others would relieve me for a day so I could travel to another universe and fuck every sexy body I could find.

ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND - JESÚS

This was the moment. I had made my case. Sean had attempted to undercut it, something I had not foreseen. He had known about his assignment to Lesboworld for two months, he said. How had he found out? That secret had been locked in the vault for four years, and no one had the combination but me. Could Thibaut, with his sophisticated software, have determined the 144-digit code that unlocked the vault? Each digit was alpha-numeric, and transversed a multitude of alphabets. The number of permutations was not in the hundreds – it had hundreds of digits.

Well, that was irrelevant now. Perhaps Sean had been responsible for all the glitches that required adjustments to the physics, starting with the appearance of Murdock and King on the island. And the attempt to keep Kowalczyk alive. And . . .

But Sean had skillfully not shown his hand too early. Seth had dutifully performed his duties, right up to the moment. Sean was playing a dangerous game – playing me and Seth at the same time.

If The Project launched, Sean would get his just desserts. Or considering the environment of Lesboworld, his just deserts. If it failed, I would have to take action. If I were allowed to. The Board might blame me for the failure – Ari in particular seemed anxious to replace me. But Ari was firmly behind The Project – he wanted his Warworld, I was sure of that.

ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND – ARI

This was the moment. It was fascinating to watch. I would come out a winner either way. If Herrick went ahead and chopped off his boyfriend's head (which I would indeed enjoy watching), then The Project would launch and I would reign over Warworld. If it failed, I would blame Jesús for its failure and I was confident the Board would install me as chairman. Under my leadership, Stimulever would reformulate Alphaworld in my own vision – we'd have war either way.

Of course, I had promised Sean I would make him my second in command. Now that he had shown his true colors by publicly trying to persuade Herrick to spare his lover, I could no longer do that. I'd have to bounce him from the Board and replace him with Hamish – the only man ruthless enough for the job.

THE WHITE ROOM – ABE

This was the moment. My chin rested on the chopping block. There was a half-inch between my neck and the wood below. My knees were on the floor, arms tied behind my back. I could have lifted my head, but what would have been the point? They would have just pushed it back down again.

Percy had told me that I had to die in order to live. Percy had told me this was the last day of my life `in this universe'. Sean was now saying these were the last moments of my life anywhere.

Could I believe either of them? Sean had manipulated me into an affair with him that could have ruined my relationship with Seth, to advance his own purposes. Percy was genuinely fond of me, but his true loyalty was to his damn Project and to Hamish, whom one could not trust further than one could toss a battleship.

Either way, I readied myself for the feel of a sharp blade at the back of my neck any moment now. Either from Seth or from one of Hamish's henchmen.

The question was whether I would feel anything after that ever again.

THE WHITE ROOM - HARRY

For the second time in hours, I was kneeling in front of a chopping block. The first time, I had been seconds away from decapitation. And now, this guy Jesús was threatening to execute us all if Seth didn't kill Abe. My Sidney Carton moment had all been for nothing. I had reprieved Jordan – and Augie – for mere hours. Unless Seth, the man I admired most in the world, did the unthinkable, and murdered his true love.

I didn't mind for me. I'd been prepared to die, and, even without the dire future they had projected for me in their fake video, life for me in Alphaworld wouldn't be no crystal stair, as Langston Hughes put it. There was nothing for me to return to. But if I was to die, I wanted it to have meaning. It meant something when I was saving Jordan and Augie. Now, what good was my death doing for anyone?

Could I ask Seth to behead the one person he truly loved, for my sake? No. But for everyone's sake?

I don't know.

Damn ethics.

THE WHITE ROOM – SETH

Hamish faced me, awaiting my decision. Jesús, on the monitor, peered at me intensely.

I took a deep breath, and spoke.

• No.

A murmur went through the room.

• I don't believe you, Jesús. I don't know if Sean is telling the truth or not, but if he is, and Abe has no Alpha-life, I can't risk that. Sean has lied to me time and time again, but what if he's right? Like I'm supposed to believe YOU? If I don't let your fucking Project go through, Abe will still be alive and we can be together – and it won't be in that phony vision of hell you tried to sell me just now. Sean is still in love with me, that seems clear, but he knows that if I go back to Alphaworld with Abe, that I'll be with Abe and he has no chance. So if I can do Sean a favor and spare him from this Lesboworld you're threatening him with, I think that's a good thing to do. But I think Lesboworld is a bluff, too, Jesús. You're proving to me that Stimulever is a culture of lies, lies, and damn lies. I'm not falling for it. The answer is no.

I said that with so much more calm than I was feeling.

I looked around the room. Abe was facing away from me, so I couldn't read his reaction. But the only happy face I saw belonged to Sean. Hamish was furious, and the Twelve were worried. Would Jesús carry out his threats?

I was counting on them to be a bluff. What would he have to gain from executing thirteen innocent men just out of spite?

I focused on the monitor. Jesús's face was impassive. I couldn't read it. Was it disappointment? Anger? Fear? Resolution? Acceptance? I knew the next voice in the room would be his, and it would give me my answer.

• (Jesús) Stefan. Behead O'Leahy.

THE WHITE ROOM – IAN

What? No, please god no!

FLASHBACK: IAN (CLEVELAND) – March, last year

I saw him, sitting alone at the bar, looking miserable. And drinking quite a bit. I decided to approach him.

• Are you okay?

• Huh? . . . Yeah, sure. Why do you ask?

• To be honest, you look a little down.

• I do?

• You're sitting in a gay bar, alone, not talking to anyone, during a slow time of the day, and that's your third whiskey.

• You've been watching me for a while.

• I have.

• Why?

• I'm a people-watcher.

• That sounds like fun. Glad I could entertain you. I don't see you with anyone, why are YOU here?

• I came with a friend. He had to leave.

• And you stayed around - ?

• To watch people.

• Looking for someone to pick up? Pickings are slim this time of day.

• You're not slim.

• You trying to pick me up?

• You look like you need a friend.

• Huh. Offering your services?

• I'm offering to be someone to talk to. My name's Ian.

• Seth.

• What happened, Seth?

• What makes you think something happened?

• I've never seen you here before at this time of day. And you have that definite `drowning-your-sorrows' look.

• Maybe I have sorrows to drown.

• Romance gone awry?

• What makes you say that? Maybe I got fired. Maybe I lost my rent money betting on the Cavs. Maybe my parakeet died.

• I've watched people for a long time. You have that `I just broke up with my boyfriend' look.

• Did Ysidro send you?

• Who's Ysidro?

• The boyfriend I just broke up with. You're not a spy he sent to check on me?

• No, sorry, I'm just your neighborhood busybody.

• Is your body busy?

• What?

• Sorry, old habits. That was flirt-talk. I've been through about six boyfriends in the last three years.

• You took this one hard.

• I did.

• You want to talk it over at my place?

• You ARE trying to pick me up.

• Let's just say I don't think this bar is the healthiest place for you to get your mind off Ysidro.

• And your place is?

• Distractions can be useful.

He took a moment and looked me over, then chugged down the last dregs of his whiskey.

• I can use a distraction. And you look good enough to be one. But let's get one thing established. I only pitch.

• Whoa, cowboy. We talk first. Let it evolve.

• Listen, if we have sex – that's not negotiable. I pitch. You catch.

• Looking at your body, I didn't take you for a catcher. I'm a pitcher myself, mostly. But I'll catch for the right guy.

• Am I the right guy?

• Let's find out.

It wasn't altogether spontaneous. My friend Jason (now known to be Paolo of Stimulever fame) had spotted Seth and suggested I try to befriend him. Seth and I went back to my apartment and talked. And talked. He told me all about his break-up with Ysidro. I told him my last boyfriend had broken up with me after I took him to a slave auction, which hadn't gone well. That, of course, was Abe, but I don't think I mentioned the name.

We lasted together for six months. By fall, I had grown tired of a relationship in which I was only bottoming. And I had met Jude – now known to be Sean of Stimulever fame. `Jude', supposedly a psychologist, convinced me I was wrong for Seth, and vice-versa.

It seems I was just a pawn in their scheme.

Seth took our break-up hard. But, as much as I resented Paolo and Sean for manipulating me like a marionette, it was the right thing to do. As it was the right thing to help repair his nascent relationship with Abe. The right thing at the time. Now it looked like I was responsible for Abe's death – and my own.

THE WHITE ROOM – SETH

In that moment, I realized how much Ian had been to me. He had been six months of solace after Ysidro, and, if not for him, I would never have had that third date with Abe that smoothed things over and set-up our relationship.

But this threat against his life was just another bluff. I was convinced of it.

THE WHITE ROOM – AUGIE

Thirteen of us, kneeling, in two rows, in front of thirteen chopping blocks. In front of me was Seth, and in front of him was Abe, in front of the fourteenth chopping block in the room. And Stefan held an axe.

Stefan who approached Ian, who was next to me in the front row. I thought about the times Ian had fucked me down here in Hamishland, and how he was one of the kindest and most considerate lieutenants. And how much he had loved Stan.

And then Stefan raised his axe and chopped off Ian's head.

THE WHITE ROOM – SETH

He did it.

He actually did it.

I couldn't charge Jesús, who was a continent away. And I couldn't charge Stefan – he still held the axe. But I could charge Hamish.

I barreled toward him headlong at full speed. He wasn't expecting that and fell to the ground the moment my body collided with his. I punched him hard in the face and started to tear off his robes – I'm not sure what I was thinking doing that, maybe that I wanted him naked so I could rape him, or maybe I just wanted to remove one of the symbols of his power over us.

I got in a half dozen solid blows before they pulled me off him. It took four or five of them to do so, but in the end I was pulled several feet away, and held there. All I could do now was shout at the screen.

• You BASTARD! You fucking asshole of a shit-eating bastard! He was my friend! You had no right to do that! Your quarrel is with me, not Ian! You –

• (Jesús) Oh, stuff it, Herrick. Shut him up, boys.

And I found my mouth suddenly stuffed with a penis gag, which was fastened around my head, and taped in place. As this was occurring, Jesús continued talking to me.

• You're wasting valuable time. There are barely four minutes left in the launch window. We'll have to execute one of the others every few seconds, ending with your beloved Derisian. But if it consoles you at all, Ian has an Alpha-life.

Could I believe that? Much as I wanted to question him about that, in my current state, nothing I tried to say would have been intelligible. I couldn't stop staring at Ian's severed head, lying on the floor feet away from me.

• (Sean) He's lying, Seth. Ian is dead now, just as Abe will be if you –

• SHMMM THMM FMMMM MMP, SHNNN.

My feeble attempts at shouting `shut the fuck up, Sean'. Jesús was the only one who mattered now.

• (Jesús) But aside from Derisian, none of the others here do. Their deaths will be forever. Uri, behead Mancini.

THE WHITE ROOM – HARRY

So here it was – the end of my miserable life, my comfort being that on its final day, a magnificent man with a magnificent cock had indeed fucked the proverbial shit out of me. I was not going to die a virgin, or even an almost-virgin. I had been mouth-raped and I had been ass-fucked, and it made up for all the barbecue sauce in the world.

I watched Uri approach with the axe, its blade now tinged with Ian's blood. He stood next to me.

• (Uri) Sorry, pal. I don't want to do this, but, you know – I have to.

• It's okay. I'm ready.

I closed my eyes. And for the second time in hours I heard a man lift the heavy axe that would put an end to it all. And for the second time in hours, I heard:

• Wait!

It was not Barry this time. Not a familiar voice at all. And it came from several feet in front of me. I opened my eyes and saw Abe Derisian standing and facing the monitor.

FLASHBACK: ABE (CLEVELAND) – two months ago

It was a Friday, and I was spending the night. Seth had prepared our gin-and-tipsies, but he swallowed his in nearly one big gulp. He was moody; something was up.

• What is it?

• What's what?

• You're tense, or worried, or something. What happened? Is it me? Is it us?

• No, not you. You're perfect.

I waited. He looked at me and smiled the saddest smile I think I had ever seen in my life.

• I got a raise.

• (laughing) Goodness, what a crushing blow that must have been.

He glared at me.

• Seth, what gives? You got a raise, and you look depressed.

• I am depressed.

• I realize I'm just an ignorant doctoral student, unaccustomed to the ways of the corporate world, but it's been my impression that when executives get a raise, it generally makes them happy.

• Do I deserve a raise?

• . . . I don't really know, I'm not in a position to evaluate the quality of your work.

• The quality of my work is irrelevant. The nature of my work is. Why do people like me get paid like this? What does Dawson & Pace do for the world? They help rich people get richer. And I get rewarded for helping the rich get richer. And screwing the little guy.

• Screwing the little guy?

• By omission. If the rich get richer, somebody gets poorer, and that's the little guy. And I'm doing absolutely nothing to help those who really need the help.

I couldn't argue with that, so I stayed quiet, waiting.

• I feel hollow, Abe.

Trying to lighten the mood, I punched him lightly in the stomach and pressed my head against it.

• Nope. Not hollow. Solid.

At least he smiled at that.

• I think back to our very first date – the good one, before the handcuff disaster – and you came in here and I was trying to seduce you and you asked me about my job. Do you remember what I said?

• I think you asked me what I wanted to drink.

• Exactly. I was embarrassed to tell you what I did for a living. I'm not doing anything productive for society, Abe. I have no value. My life isn't meaningful.

• . . . Oh. Thanks.

• I don't mean us. That's – that's one of the things that helps. But here I am, closing in on thirty, and I'm just making money and contributing absolutely nothing to benefit mankind. I'm thinking I should quit my job and join the Peace Corps or something.

• . . . You want to go off to Africa?

• I don't mean that literally – I'm not going to leave Cleveland and abandon you. But I want to make a difference, Abe. I want to matter.

• . . . I think I understand.

• Thank you. Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer.

• It's okay. . . . Seth.

• Yeah?

• . . . You matter to me.

THE WHITE ROOM – ABE

• Sir, can I talk to him?

• (Jesús) To Mancini?

• To Seth.

• . . . There are four minutes remaining in the launch window. If your head is still on your shoulders with ninety seconds remaining, we will simultaneously behead all of the others. All of them, all at once.

• Could you ungag him so he could talk?

An unacceptably long pause. I stared at the thirty-year-old face in the monitor and saw him nod his approval. I turned to my beloved as two of the lieutenants removed the penis gag from his mouth.

• Seth, do it. I know you're scared you'll lose me forever, but if you don't, you'll lose me forever anyway. They'll cut off my head, sure as the sun rises in the east, and they'll make you suffer by watching everyone else die first. I'll be dead either way, and if THEY kill me there's no hope. . . . Do it, Seth.

• . . . Babe. What you're asking me to do – I love you.

• You said you wanted to make a difference. This is your chance. I don't know if this Project of theirs will work or not but they've done some pretty impressive stuff so far and maybe this Project will improve the world. You can make that difference. You can change the world.

• Babe –

• You can matter. You'll always matter to me, Seth, you know that, whatever happens we'll either live together happily or die knowing how much we love each other. But let me not die thinking that we might have had a chance. It's our only chance, Seth. Our only chance. And I couldn't stand to let all these other innocent people die because of me. I'd die with that guilt on my conscience – that they died because I didn't.

His eyes were so wet I'm not sure he could see out of them.

• Dry those eyes, Seth. I don't want your vision blurry and interfering with your aim.

He wiped his eyes on his arm and stepped forward.

• One last kiss.

It was a brief one, but it was tender, and chills went up and down my spine.

He turned to Stefan.

• (Seth) Hand me the axe.

[COMING UP NEXT: THE NEW YEAR (and yes, it's the final chapter)]