by Gayle, A. B.
Thoughts of a dead Flynn brought on vivid images of Henry Vale standing over him, Henry Vale and Flynn fighting, Henry Vale dead with a pen jammed in his eye. He’d never get those images out of his mind; never get over the feeling of being in that small, cell-like room.
The room that, aside from the beds, was very much like the room he was expected to stay in.
@—}–—}——
How much time he spent there he didn’t know without a watch, but as he left the little hut, he realized the wind had picked up and clouds filled the sky. He hadn’t noticed the light dimming from inside the small building. Dante whined again and ran over to a tree, relieving himself before sprinting ahead to the low building before them. A peel of thunder sounded in the distance, signaling the storm moving in.
The only one left in the room was Gil, and Aiden stared at him, sweat dripping down his face and chest. “I’m not staying in this room,” he announced. “I don’t care if the little huts aren’t stable, I’m not staying in a cell like this again.”
Aiden’s outburst gave Gil cause for concern. A meltdown was way overdue considering what the man had gone through. None of them had been given time to come to terms with any of this before being asked to make a life-changing decision and whisked away out of their comfort zone. Sweat was pouring off him, he radiated agitation and he was not thinking things through. Gil was on the alert, Aiden was displaying certain signs and they were all adding up to a raging case of post-traumatic stress.
Without waiting for Gil to say anything, Aiden made his way to his bed and grabbed his bag along with Flynn’s. “This room is too small, and there are too many of us staying in here. And it’s hot. This whole island is hot and my books are going to get ruined.” His voice was loud in the small, enclosed space, and it shattered the once quiet room.
“At the moment, there’s only the two of us, Aiden.” Gil rummaged in his bag while he talked. “The storm is coming over and it might be safer to wait…”
“I’m not waiting. I don’t care if there is a storm. I found a nice little hut and with the walls half down it’s pretty spacious. So what if there’s water on the floor? Dante will keep me company until Flynn comes back. And then Flynn can help me fix it up. It has a bookcase, too, did I mention that?” Aiden stared at his boxes of books and pushed them under the bed. “I’ll leave these here until the walls are fixed. Please don’t touch them.”
“Aiden, it isn’t safe. Look, wait until the storm clears and then I’ll help you.” Aiden looked like he was near collapse. Gil moved slowly to block Aiden’s escape route, then faced him, put the most reassuring expression on his face that he could muster and said “I think you need to talk. We’ve all been through a lot, you more than us. Tell me how you feel?”
“How do I feel?” Aiden snorted at the question and shook his head. “How do you think I feel? I don’t want to be here; this place is hell. Flynn was supposed to be here, and he’s not. For all I know he’s dead, and I’m stuck here. Stuck in this… this cage of a room.” It was then that he realized Gil had moved between him and the exit, and he eyed him warily. “Why are you blocking the door?”
Gil sighed. “Because I want to keep you safe, for when Flynn comes. I know you want to be alone, but it’s not a good idea. Aiden, you need proper rest and you won’t get any outside in a leaky hut with a wind whipping round your ears.” Damn, why did Miles have to go walkabout now! Aiden was in need of help, help Gil wasn’t sure he could give. In the absence of Miles, though, he had to try.
“I’m not going to be alone. Dante is with me.” And who was he to tell Aiden where he could and couldn’t get rest? “And I like the sound of rain on a roof. It’s relaxing.”
“The sound might be relaxing but I wouldn’t like the feel of rain down my neck and I doubt you will either. Aiden, this is daft. We’re in this together…”
“I’m not going to be lost! I’m going to be in one of those little huts outside! What the hell is wrong with that? It’s not like I can go very far, is it? This island is only so big. I’ll come to a beach sooner or later and that’ll be that. We have no boat to get off, and the plane that dumped us here is gone – not that I could fly it even if it was here.” He was sure his voice was getting louder because it was starting to hurt his own ears.
“Aiden, sit down for a minute. Please?” he added when Aiden frowned. The teacher huffed, but did as he was asked, perching on the end of one of the beds. Gil carefully sat opposite, trying to hold Aiden’s gaze. “This isn’t easy on you, I know, but I just want you to be safe. The storm might not be a bad one for this area but it might still be dangerous for any of us who are not used to it. Those bures, or whatever you call them, they’re damaged, they might be unsafe. Who knows if the roof might collapse…” Gil felt he was grasping at straws, but he ploughed on. He had to keep Aiden there and talking. “Until the plane returns, we’re on minimal equipment and medical supplies. If any of us are injured…” he couldn’t help the catch in his voice as he thought of Miles, hoping he was safe—it was getting on for seven hours and still no word—not knowing was beginning to eat at him. “If any of us are injured it’s going to be difficult to treat them at best. All I’m asking is for you to stay now, let the storm blow over, we can look again in the morning.”
Though he really didn’t want to stay in the room, the tone of Gil’s voice got to him. Aiden frowned and stared at the other man, contemplating his choices. He did have a valid point in a sense. “But if the roof collapses, it’s just a bunch of leaves,” he pointed out.
“Leaves and roof beams with the added weight of water, and no means for you to call for help?” Gil glanced down at the dog. The Akita was leaning into his master, nose on Aiden’s knee. A particularly loud thunder crack made the dog tense. “How about Dante? He doesn’t seem to care for the storm either.”
“He’ll be fine with me. He’s a good boy, aren’t you Dante?” Aiden smoothed the dog’s fur and then leaned over, putting both hands on the back of his neck and pushing his hair off it to cool down. “It’s so fucking hot I can’t stand it,” he complained. “I don’t have anything to pull my hair back.”
“Hang on, might be able to help you there.” Gil leaned over and snagged his bag and after a quick search produced and handed over an elastic band. “This okay?”
Aiden took it and tied back his hair, nodding. “It’ll work for now, at least.” Maybe he should cut his hair if he was really going to stay there.
Gil eyed Aiden as he tied his hair, trying to keep his expression neutral.
“Do you think I should cut my hair? I think maybe that would be best,” he said, voicing his thoughts. “It has gotten pretty long, and it will just get in the way here. Besides, it will grow back when I’m more accustomed to the heat, right? What am I saying, accustomed to the heat. I’m never going to get used to this.” Pulling his shirt out of his pocket he mopped his forehead with it and then his chest, drying off the sweat that ran there. “I hope the rain is cool. If it is, I’ll go stand in the rain.”
“The storm should cool the air down for us. You could get some rest here and now…” Gil hesitated to suggest what was going through his mind. He could sedate Aiden, knock him out for a few hours, but considering Eidolon had already tried, what chance would he stand? There was no reason for the teacher to trust him. He sighed. Suddenly, things seemed so much more complicated. He was out of his depth… You can’t save everybody… Miles’ words came back to taunt him.
16: First Impressions, Second Thoughts
Lyle Ashley Tate, Gideon Sterling
___________________________________________________
Afternoon of 25th January, Mystery Island
It started to rain—great dolloping droplets that splattered into dime-sized wet patches on Lyle’s shirt as the two men walked back to the main building. Gideon was shirtless, appearing unconcerned that he was getting wet.
Their day had been productive thus far. During the afternoon, they’d worked ea
sily together, Gideon tinkering various items of equipment into life, including a dune buggy, whilst Lyle fetched and carried as necessary. What Gideon couldn’t fix himself they noted for future reference.
“How do you feel about ‘people like me’, then, Mr Sterling?” There was a challenge in Lyle’s tone. The conversation they’d started earlier wasn’t over yet. With the ice properly broken between them, he needed more from Sterling than his pleasantly sexy company; he needed understanding.
“Call me Gideon, we’re all in this together. Unless you want to remain formal? Seems a bit silly though after we spent the afternoon sweating together.”
“Okay… I’m not even sure what ‘this’ is, though…?”
“This is our current situation. This is our world for the foreseeable future.”
“Living in the moment huh?” Lyle observed.
Gideon turned his head at that comment, looking directly at Lyle for the first time. “I learned to do that a long time ago.”
Lyle smiled wryly. “I guess it depends how good your moments are, whether you want to live there or not.”
Gideon tipped his head back, catching raindrops on his tongue, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. He held the pose a moment or two, letting the rain soak his face. It was rapidly becoming a heavy downpour.
“A shower, thank god for that! I feel filthy.” Lyle said, scrubbing at his face and grimacing.
Gideon gave him an appraising look. “Filthy, hah?”
“I feel like a scab on a syphilis-ridden rat actually.”
Gideon laughed, it was a warm, round sound. “Well, you don’t look it… There are showers here, you know?”
“Yeah? Not found them yet.”
“Ought to be enough water in the tanks to supply them…Changing rooms for the gym… Anyway, I believe you asked me a question. Let me ask you one…How do you define yourself?”
Lyle noted that while he’d asked a question, Gideon hadn’t answered it. He decided to play dumb on Gideon’s query. “Pissed off, tired, dizzy and filthy.”
“Dizzy?
“Shell shocked…Three days ago I had a home; a week ago I had a job, a life and maybe a lover.”
Gideon held the door, rain rolling off his muscular arms and dripping onto the tiles of the entrance hall. “Maybe? Did you leave him behind?” For a moment, Lyle didn’t answer; he was distracted, fascinated by the rain rolling down Gideon’s torso, sliding over well-defined abs.
“No, he seems to have left me behind. I guess some people are only good for one night. Seems I’m one of them.”
A raised eyebrow was Gideon’s only response to Lyle self-deprecation. He turned to the left and opened a door there, entering the room beyond.
It was quite a large room, obviously an office, despite the camp bed resting against one wall, a sleeping bag and pillows laid neatly out on top of it.
“This looks comfy.” Much more comfortable than that bunkhouse you’ve put us in, Lyle thought.
Gideon dropped his shirt and rain-soaked bandana onto the floor by his cot, then reached into his duffle bag and threw a towel to Lyle, who was hovering in the doorway, his gaze taking in both the room and its occupant.
“Come on in, I don’t bite, unless you want me to.” It was an old line, but Gideon sounded like he meant it.
“I’d just as soon go find these showers you say are here.”
“Come on then, I’ll show you.”
Lyle was alarmed when Gideon grabbed his own wash bag, whistling to himself. He didn’t want company in the shower, not today anyway. He suddenly became aware of how wet his shirt had gotten, too, and felt himself colour up. He’d thought the heat would be what exposed him, but it seemed the tropical rain was just as likely to betray him to the others.
“Maybe I should eat first…” Lyle commented as they passed through a room that seemed once to have been the dining room. “We didn’t even get breakfast.” He hovered on the spot as they came to a door marked ‘Gym’.
“Nothing wrong in me showing you where the showers are first, is there?” Gideon’s tone told Lyle he was playing with him. “I know about your… personal situation, Mr Tate… Lyle?
“Right.” Of course. Lyle thought, he’s our security chief. He said he’d seen our files.
“Look, I was wondering…
“I just can’t do that whole communal thing!” Lyle blurted. “I need to undress, relax, wash…”
Gideon tilted his head, studying Tate. He doubted Tate would answer, but his brain was seething with questions, so he decided to ask them. “How far along are you? Bres’ didn’t say, not sure he even knew. What have you had done?”
“T shots—hormones,”
“Do you mind me asking?”
“Yeah, but you know anyway,” Lyle said.
“Well, hearing it is different from reading it. Anyone can read. Actually hearing it, that comes with different messages attached… like how you feel about it; how comfortable you are; What causes you problems? That sort of thing.”
“I’ve been living as a man, getting therapy to make sure I’m not just imagining it all… have done the legal stuff, changed my name, etc… Not that this name is likely to stick on me that long…” Lyle huffed a laugh at that point.
“I don’t know… that depends. Lyle Tate, it’s innocuous, unless you know. Anybody called you sugar yet?”
Lyle smiled. “Brits know,” he said, acknowledging Gideon’s accent, “but there haven’t been many of them in my life since I moved to the states.”
“Funny thing about the US, there are a lot of Americans there.”
Lyle laughed again. Gideon was pleased to hear it. “Trouble is,” Lyle added, “there seem to be a lot more in the UK these days.”
“You think?”
“Eidolon isn’t American though, is it?”
“Eidolon is…Eidolon. Multinational, I think you’d call it.” Gideon was hedging and they both knew it.
“I got that sense from what little Breslaw said.”
“As far as the party line goes, they’re neutral…”
“Just in it for the profit huh?
“…like Switzerland. Bankers, the lot of them.” The emphasis Gideon put on the word ‘bankers’ didn’t escape Lyle’s ears. “I still haven’t answered your question…”
Somehow he had managed to follow Gideon, through the door and turning into what was obviously a locker room. To his dismay he noted that the room followed the classic design for a sports area, with open shower stalls.
“Nor I yours,” Lyle said. Gideon noticed his gaze roll over the room and saw Lyle shudder a little at what he was seeing.
“This is making you uncomfortable.” Gideon didn’t bother to phrase it as a question.
“I’m a gay male in a female body, what do you think?” Lyle sounded like their current topic of conversation was putting a strain on him. Gideon decided to ignore that, needing to understand his charge as best he could as soon as he could.
“Why are you uncomfortable, Lyle? You’re anticipating me judging you, because you don’t know me.”
“You already have.”
“Have I?”
“You know who and what I am…” Far more than I know about you, Lyle thought.
“And you feel I’ve already judged you?”
“You’ve decided what you think about that, or feel about it. We all judge people when we first meet them, even if we’re completely off track. It’s a survival trait… Is this person going to hurt me? is this person going to fuck me? Do I want them to? Can I stop them if they try? Dozens of calculations in a split second.”
“Faster than those computers you are so at home with, hah?
“Yep.”
“Has anyone spoken to you about working for Eidolon?” Lyle had been evasive thus far concerning his history with computers. His file was the exact opposite though. It shouted long and loud about a talent bordering on genius; Gideon hoped the file was right.
“Breslaw started on i
t, but we never got the chance to talk properly.”
“You’re the IT bod, as I said…”
“I used to be.”
“You could be again. Look, I need a good computer specialist here, to set us up at least—you know the kind of thing; surveillance measures, CCTV, perimeter security, firewalls, anti-hacking.”
“Oh? news to me.” Lyle looked around then with some suspicion. He hadn’t seen any cameras, but then that was the whole point of surveillance, to go unnoticed so that the things people let slip in conversations could be captured and analysed.
“They’re bringing in all the equipment by ship, it’ll take a while.” Gideon added.
“I thought you’d have all that here already.”
“Next time the plane lands, it’s bringing with it some men and materials to fix this place up in the short term, until this thing gets off the ground.”
“Seems like a huge waste of resources, just for us. Not something I think Eidolon does.”
“I need a CCTV network around the perimeter.” Gideon let the comment about Eidolon slide. The less said the better.
“In case a sharkman comes to get us?”
Gideon smiled. Tate’s sense of humour seemed fine-tuned and he was pleased that the man was relaxing enough to joke with him. “I have to cover all bases.,” he said, “and I’d appreciate your cooperation.”
“I would have thought the Creature from the Black Lagoon was more of a threat… or the blue lagoon maybe?
“Maybe. Well, I appreciate it if you don’t want to shower in front of me, but do you object if I shower? You’re not the only one who happens to be filthy. You didn’t go three rounds with the Generator From Hell.”
“As I said… I’m a gay male in a female body…You probably don’t want to shower in front of me either.”
Gideon looked Lyle straight in the eye, his expression open and honest. “Doesn’t bother me.”
“I wondered,” Lyle began, “…sorry, rude of me.”
“Why? I’m not offended… Look, going back to what you were saying—,”