"Hand me those wire cutters on my toolbox, will ya?"
He handed them to Vance. "Uh, sure. Here you go."
"Thanks." Vance grunted as he cut through a length of blue wire and reattached it to the monitor. "Listen, don't worry about Marty. He's pretty new, so he doesn't know much about what happened to you three years ago. When he's in here, just lie low and let me do the talking. He knows better than to mess with me."
"Vance?"
"What's up?"
"Are you still . . . are you still gay?"
Vance slid back out from under the console and grabbed Rav's arm. He pulled him down to his knees as he whispered to him. "What the hell is wrong with you? You can't say stuff like that, especially not in here. They monitor these cameras. Do you know what they do to people who admit to that? You'll get me killed, Rav. Besides, I can't stop being what I am. What kind of question is that, anyway? Since when do you care? Well, Rav, are you still straight? See how dumb that sounds?"
"I . . . I'm sorry. I was just checking."
"We'll talk more after we get home. Why don't you crawl inside the motherboard there and try to weld the sensors back together? There's a welding pen over there."
"I didn't mean to make you angry."
He scoffed. "Just get to work."
So even this Vance program was still mimicking the real Vance well. But how well? Rav felt sick as he thought of it, but he made up a plan. If this was really Vance, then there was something he knew he would not be able to resist. Rav stepped over into the corner of the room where the cameras could not reach. He knew because he had programmed them himself. Rav found a sharp edge on the motherboard and scraped his hand along it until blood pooled to the surface. "Damn it."
"You okay?"
"I just cut myself. It's pretty bad."
"Coming. Apply pressure. I'll get the first aid kit."
"No, just get over here."
Vance rushed over and took Rav's hand. "How did you do this? It doesn't look too deep, but we need to bandage it."
Rav put his other arm around Vance's neck and pulled him close, leaning down a bit to kiss him. It was only an experiment. Just an experiment for the program. He closed his eyes as he continued kissing him. The smell of coffee changed to orange soda, the buzz of the computers faded away, and the sterilized air felt warmer. When Rav opened his eyes, he screamed.
He was in a high school library.
In a frantic fit, he pushed Vance off of him and spun in a circle. Shelves of books, rows of digital films, holographic newspapers, and walls covered in computer monitors casted their pale bluish glow through the darkened room. No one else was there, but Rav felt as though he was exposed, naked, and vulnerable. He covered his mouth to silence the second scream that he could not control.
"Rav? I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
He backed away from Vance and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Where are we?"
"We're in the digital library. At school. High school, Rav."
"High school?" Rav's mouth fell open and he shivered in his fear. "What just happened?"
"I asked if I could kiss you to see if I felt anything. You said I could. Did you not want me to?"
"No, no, no. It's not that. I . . . we were at work. We were at CyrinoTech. We . . ." He looked at Vance, whose young mismatched eyes revealed only his confusion. "You don't have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?"
Vance shook his head. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his red checkered vest that hung down to the top pockets of his baggy grey cargo pants. "I should go."
"No, stay." He looked at his friend's high cheekbones, youthful slender face, and the wispy blond bangs that hung down in his eyes. "You're really young."
"I'm only a year younger than you."
"How old are we right now?"
"What kind of question is that? Did you hit your head on something? You're fifteen and I'm fourteen."
"Fifteen?" Rav reached up to touch his smooth face. He grabbed the ends of his red hair that had grown down below his ears. He looked down to see his tight black skinny jeans, red sneakers with the laces missing, and his white camouflage hoodie with the safety pins around the hem. Sure enough, it was exactly how he dressed when he was fifteen. But why? The kiss. It had to have something to do with the kiss. Then he remembered. The digital library. It was the time he had allowed Vance to kiss him. "Associative memories. Well played."
"Huh?"
"Oh, nothing." Rav glanced up at the ceiling and glared at the unseen eyes he knew were watching his plight. He would figure this out and get his revenge. One way or another. "Vance?"
"Yep?"
"Do you feel normal?"
"I've never felt normal, mate. Why?" Vance asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're scaring me."
"I think I'm going to head home and get some sleep . . . or something."
"You can't. We have a biology midterm in the morning. I haven't studied at all. Come over to my place and we can go through the flashcards together. Please? I need this. My GPA is tanking. Help me, mate. I'll order a pizza."
His place? "Why don't we go to my place?"
"No offense, but you live on level 47, right? Listen, I have lived in some pretty messed up conditions, but not that messed up. My place is more comfortable. I live alone, so we can crank up that music of yours as loud as you want and stay up all night. You know, studying."
"Okay, fine. Your place."
As Rav followed Vance out of the school building, down the streets, and into the elevator, he was too focused on thinking to look around him. How was this program working? He was ninety percent sure it was some kind of virtual reality program that was created out of his own memories. What did he remember about Vance's house? Was there anything there that could possibly fix this or give him any more clues? More importantly, what did he remember about this night in particular? Studying at Vance's house? Did that even happen?
Rav was pulled out of the elevator then found himself gawking up at the purple, yellow, and green neon that painted the ever dark enclosed sky. Giant speakers blasted rock music so loud that he felt the asphalt vibrating under his sneakers and felt it pounding inside his chest. People danced in the street while others raced between the noisy arcades, the strip clubs, and the busy bars. "This isn't your house."
"Nope. I thought about studying. I really did. But this seemed like a better plan. Come on, Rav!"
Oh. And then it made perfect sense. They never did study at Vance's house. Rav vaguely remembered parts of this night, but most of it had been blotted out by alcohol and exhaustion. He needed to keep a clear mind, to focus on breaking out of the program, but the thought of relaxing and letting go sounded just so good. He took Vance's hand and took a deep breath before smiling in the neon. "Let's go. Lead on!"
"I knew you'd want to. We will have the rest of our lives to be boring and work. We need to party while we're young."
They ran together through the pulsing lights, the screaming citizens, and the pounding music. One stop after another, they drank in the city's energy, they tasted the night life, but more than that, they drank shot after shot. Their only conversation become a quick back and forth at every bar.
Vance would order drinks with a fake ID then hand one of the mystery shots to Rav. "Drink this."
"You sure?"
"Yep."
Rav would try to get out of it. "I think I've had enough."
"You've had enough when I say you've had enough."
But in the end, he gave in and drank it anyway. "Okay."
Then they would throw their shot glasses onto the floor where they shattered, then dash out of the bar without paying for the drinks. Giggling and stumbling over each other, they raced into the next bar where the formula was repeated. Six more times, they drank and ran, each time getting more hilarious to them and more difficult with the alcohol surging through their bloodstreams. The thought of getting caught for stealing or using that fake ID was nowhere in their minds, especially
not in Rav's.
Because none of it was real. It was all part of the program. He was reliving a memory. A harmless memory. He was there, enthralled by it all and feeling every bit, but detached as if he was playing a video game. The energy was addicting. The smiling face of the man who had been his friend for years was elating.
Rav chased Vance down a back alley then slid to a stop under the back window of a strip club. "What we doing here?"
"Shh." Vance climbed up the side of an orange dumpster then stood on his tiptoes to peer inside the window. "Oh, this is good. Get up here."
"Why? What's going on in there?"
"It's the back room of a strip club. What do you think is going on? Get on up here and I'll sneak inside."
Was he crazy? Rav already knew that answer to that question. "Inside? You're going inside?"
"Uh, duh. I've never been in a strip club."
"I thought you didn't like women."
"I didn't say anything about women, mate. There's guys in here too."
"Come on, Vance. We'll get in trouble." As he said it, Rav shook his head. There was nothing to get in trouble with. It was all fake. He had to remind himself it was all part of this memory program. "Oh, what the hell. I'm coming up."
"Good." Vance cautiously pushed the window up then giggled when the music and cheering filtered out into the night. "I see panties."
"For space's sake, Vance. Have you never seen panties before?"
"No."
Rav rolled his eyes as he climbed up the side and joined his friend under the window. "Go. I'll play lookout."
"You want anything?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. They have drinks in here. If you climbed up this dumpster without falling, you're not drunk enough yet, mate."
"No. Just get in and get out."
Vance saluted him then crawled in through the window.
Rav crossed his arms on his chest and tapped his foot, trying to look cool and collected and totally not doing anything suspicious. After only a few seconds, screams came from inside the strip club and something glass crashed nearby.
"Rav, run!" Vance dove out of the window, slamming into Rav and sending both of them falling from the dumpster and into the alley. He picked himself up and helped Rav to his feet. "Run. They're coming for us."
"What did you do?"
As he ran, Vance held up a pair of sequin-covered turquoise panties. "Catch. They're for you."
Rav caught them as he kept up with Vance. "Did you take these off of a stripper?"
"Maybe." He pulled Rav around the corner where a wrecked hovercar had been abandoned on the sidewalk. He pried the door open and crawled inside. "Get in here. We'll hide until the security guards go away."
Rav laughed as he joined his friend and shut the door behind him. He held up the panties in the light from the neon signs that shined through the windows of the hovercar. "I can't believe you stole panties from a stripper."
"And these." Vance grinned the biggest goofy smile as he spread a pair of tiger fur men's underwear on his lap. "What do you think? Fierce, aren't they?"
"You're crazy. You are absolutely insane. That's gross."
"Neither of them were worn. They were in a suitcase. It's cool." Vance set the underwear aside then slid a thin white cigarette from his cargo pants pocket. "Want a smoke?"
"You smoke? You're fourteen."
"Yeah, and you didn't have a problem with us drinking, either." Vance flipped a lighter open and lit the cigarette. "It's my last one. You'll have to share."
"I don't smoke."
Vance shrugged then took a long drag and blew out the smoke in a ring. "Suit yourself." He let out a sigh and rested his head on Rav's shoulder. "This is the life, Rav. We won't be young forever, so enjoy it while you can. You know what? We could drop out of school. We could steal to get food and all the stuff we need. We could stay together like this for rest of our lives. Think about it." He waved his hand in the air like he was imagining greatness in front of him. "Rav and Vance. Two crazy men, doing what they want, when they want, and staying by each other no matter what comes their way. We would be unstoppable. We don't need these stuck-up politicians and police officers. We don't need their laws and their society. We only need each other."
Rav watched his friend's eyes glowing in the neon. It had been so long since he had seen Vance like this. He was so full of hope, of dreams, of life. Then he sighed and sank down into the plush back seat of the hovercar as he thought of what Vance had become. A hardened, hateful traitor. If he could stay here with this version of Vance, the Vance he used to know . . . Rav would be tempted to leave his real life behind just to have that again.
"You okay, mate? You look sad. I know what you need. Let Doctor Vance take care of you." Vance rolled the window down and peaked his head out. "I think we're in the clear. Let's go get you another drink. Alcohol cures everything."
"Not everything. Vance, I don't want this to end. I don't want the universe to change you into something awful."
"It won't, mate. I'm stronger than that." He took Rav's chin in his hand and raised his head to look directly in his eyes. "No matter what happens in the future, no matter what I do, know that I'm still the same Vance under all the pain and confusion. I will always be me. If I do something you can't understand, if I do something that seems absolutely awful, please never give up on me. It's just my way of crying out for help when I have no strength left to drag myself back out of that darkness. Do you understand?"
"More than you will ever know."
"Why are you crying, mate?"
Rav laughed as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Nothing. Let's go get another drink. I never want this night to end."
"What about our biology midterm?"
"Who cares? Let's keep doing this."
"All right! I knew you were a party animal deep down. Come with me, Rav. There are at least ten more bars we haven't gotten shots from. I heard one of them has flaming shots that you can drink out of someone's bellybutton. How crazy is that?"
"That's pretty crazy, Vance."
"Right? Let's go." He tossed his cigarette out the window then pushed the door open. "To the night that never ends! To Rav and Vance!"
Rav crawled out and put his arm around his friend's back. "To Rav and Vance. Forever."
Chapter 4
"Is that him?"
Benjamin Trainor sat back from the sniper rifle that was perched on the edge of a shipping container where he was prone beside Dallis the Biromian. He adjusted his pink-rimmed glasses and bit the inside of his lip. He nodded his head then passed the rifle back to the tall blue alien. "It's him."
"Just give me the word and I'll fire."
"Not yet." Ben gathered his curly brown hair behind his head and secured it in an elastic band. He studied the procession that was happening on the other side of the courtyard from where they were stationed. Formations of Azimandian warbringers in full leather armor marched while carrying banners with the royal colors of burgundy and blue flying in the winds that penetrated through the thin artificial atmosphere. At the front of the procession was a blond man being carried on a silk-covered litter. He wore the traditional belted gold, white, and burgundy uniform with the golden arm bands and cape, the makeup of the prince and a twisted black crown that sat above the purple gravity flower painted on his forehead. Prince Aveni Azimandi.
"I have a clear shot."
"Don't. No one has the authorization to fire. We need to do this in a more secretive way that won't risk getting the entire rebellion slaughtered. Besides, we still have more bombs to disarm. We have to play this safe. Has anyone heard from Rav?"
"Not yet."
Ben growled in his frustration. "I need him. He knows Vance better than anyone."
"We're working with Sawyer and Sandra to locate him as quickly as possible."
"We don't have time to wait for that. Vance could make a move and destroy a planet in that time. I know what I have to do."
Dallis's voic
e reflected his concern. "Ben?"
"Give me some of that poison you keep."
"The Vitalanum pills?"
"Whatever it is. It's poisonous, right?" Ben asked. "That's why you keep it? In case you need to commit suicide?"
"It's a special refined Vitalanum, but yes."
"Give me some. Enough for two people."
"Ben, what are you planning?"
"I want everyone to return to their cells and their daily lives."
"What about you?" Dallis asked, placing the sniper rifle on his back. "Vance just returned. He will be expecting you to be in his room. You're his husband. It's no secret that he will want to be with you."
"I know. Believe me, I know. This refined Vitalanum . . . can I use a little at a time?"
"It won't kill instantly if you use it like that. You will get sick over time with increasing intensity if you take less than four at once."
That was exactly what he needed it for. "Perfect."
"Ben, don't do this. Vance doesn't know that we know what he's been doing. He thinks everything is fine."
"That's exactly the way I need it to be. I'm going back to his bedchambers. I will play the loving husband and do this the slow but right way. Deliver the orders to everyone else. I don't want anyone meeting until the deed is done."
"He could kill you. If you mess up, if you let one word of this slip, Vance will kill you. I can't in good conscience allow you to do this. You are the leader of the Red Sand Rebels. We need you."
The longer Ben watched the procession marching across the middle of the city, the more he knew he only had this one chance, this one choice. "I'm doing this, Dallis. You need to get back down to your cell with Neon and Derek. I will pass notes through my spies and through Visht as quickly as I can, but if you don't hear from me in one week, know that my plan failed. I'll more than likely be dead."
"How are you planning on playing along with Vance like this? How are you going to dote on him, kiss him, sleep with him? You will let him rape you?"
"I've had to fake a lot more than this in life. I hate him. I hate what he's done, the monster he's become, but I have to go along with it."
The Genesis Sequence Books 6-10 Page 29