Wasteland
by Becca Abbott
Part 19
They strapped him to the table in the cold, white room. Guy lay still and numb with despair. The metal restraints were too tight, but he supposed it didn't matter. Soon, he wouldn't notice. Soon, he wouldn't be himself anymore, just a shambling, drooling shell fit only for pushing the broom across some dirty, subterranean factory floor. He remembered how afraid he'd been of the mind-wiped when he'd been deep in the bowels of the factory, a boy tossed away for a little money and a few bottles of stout.
The door whispered open. He stared up into the burning white lights. A shadow fell across him.
"Guy."
Raoul. The man who had taken his freedom and his heart would take his mind, too. It had been almost a week since he'd seen the Blondie, a week in a bare, gray cell with nothing but silence and dread for company. Guy didn't want to look, he didn't want to see that lean, handsome face, those blue eyes that looked like the sky on a clear, bright day. He didn't want to think about all his dreams and hopes lying in dust under the Blondie's feet.
"Guy?"
"Why didn't you just kill me?" He could barely force out the words. "It would have been so easy and no one would have cared. Iason and Riki wouldn't have noticed. Your secrets would have been safe."
Raoul's hand came down to lay against Guy's cheek. His thumb brushed Guy's lips and suddenly Guy remembered the whorehouse an eternity ago and how Raoul had touched him just like this. His eyes burned. He would have turned his head, but the strap across his forehead held him still. The tears spilled out. There was nothing he could do but let them come, a final indignity in a life defined by them.
"Open your mouth, Guy."
Guy blinked away the tears. Raoul looked down at him, the harsh lights making a white halo around his golden head. He was holding something – something small and red. A pill. So. It began.
"Will it hurt?" he asked finally and his voice sounded tired.
"No." Raoul bent over him. His face was all Guy could see. Raoul's other hand wiped away the tears.
I don't want to forget you.
But it was no use. Since when had the world ever cared what he wanted? Jupiter had a secret she wanted kept from that world, a secret he knew. Because no one trusted him, because he had made himself unworthy of trust, this was the result.
Guy opened his mouth and Raoul put the pill between his lips. For a second, Guy held it there, looking up into those aquiline features, trying to imprint them indelibly on his soul, knowing all the while that it was futile. Soon there would be nothing left of him. Raoul would go on with his life. Riki and Iason would have each other. Maybe it was better this way. Mind-wipe was death of a sort, wasn't it? At least the terrible pain in his soul would stop.
He swallowed the pill.
Raoul's mouth came down on his. Guy was dimly grateful for the gesture, that last bit of kindness, however offhand. He closed his eyes, opening all his senses to it. Stay with me until it ends, he thought, not daring not ask.
But Raoul didn't pull away, only deepened the kiss and, when the numbness came creeping up from Guy's toes and fingers and his thoughts grew dim and uncertain, that kiss was there, a last, lingering bit of sunlight before the dark closed in.
Midas. Crystal towers and glittering lights. Iason stared at it and tried to remember when he had believed in what he saw, what he did. Lifting a hand, he touched the new scar on his temple where the chip had been restored. Such a little thing and yet it bound him more completely, more irrevocably to service that seemed suddenly much harsher than any pet's.
Behind him, he heard the whisper of bare feet on the deep carpets and turned. In spite of his dark mood, the sight of Riki padding across the spacious room made Iason smile. It was, he decided ruefully, a bondage made much sweeter by the young man who gave back the smile tenfold as he passed.
Terra. Looking up past the towers and the scattered lights of aircraft moving over the city, he tried to find Sol among the distant stars. The Terrans had a rule, they said, that they did not interfere in the business of their former colonies. Juno and her Olympians had defied that law and so cleverly that the Star Guard had been forced at last to make their presence known. There was a reckoning coming from that quarter some day. He might even be alive to see it.
The entry chime sounded. Riki, in the act of gathering up the chess pieces and board from their earlier game looked an inquiry at Iason, who nodded. He went to answer it and returned, Raoul at his heels.
Raoul's hair was gold again; Jupiter had insisted. He wore the form-fitting black suit and elaborate, formal over-robe of his rank, but he no longer looked the same to Iason. The eyes had changed, their remoteness lost forever. Iason thought that his own probably had that same expression lurking deep within their depths. "It's done?" he asked.
Raoul nodded.
"You're determined on this course?"
Another nod, firmer this time.
"There will be no turning back. We may never see each other again."
"I know."
"Raoul..."
"No!" Raoul held up a hand, silencing his long time friend. "You, of all people, Iason, know how I feel."
It was true. Iason looked past Raoul to Riki who stood with his back to them, setting the ornate, jeweled chess pieces on the shelf.
"I'll miss you," he said finally, sadly.
Raoul nodded and held out his hand. Iason smiled crookedly. Taking it, he startled Raoul by pulling him close and embracing him.
"Take care," whispered Raoul, and was gone in a swirl of silk and flaxen hair. Iason turned away and saw Riki looking at him. From somewhere, the Blondie found a smile, but Riki was not fooled. Leaving the chess game, the young mongrel came swiftly across the room and took his hands. Iason bowed his head, touching his forehead against Riki's.
"I'm here," Riki said then. "I'll always be here. I'm yours after all, body and soul."
Yes, thought Iason, heart easing. And that was enough.