Leave a Light On
"Come-on. The captain wants to see you." A bald white man with a goatee leads me to the captain's room.
There I stand, staring at the floor. No salute. No trust.
"You attacked an officer, Tank? I should lock you up, that's the routine. But I will give you another chance. You may move free on this ship as long as you are obedient and behave yourself. Anything you have to say? Tank?"
Still staring at my toes I neither answer nor do I acknowledge what he said with a nod or so. I am tired and aching and I don't want to see nobody.
The captain sighs.
"Cypher will show you your room. That's all for now."
I'm dismissed. The other guy shows me a single room and I collapse on the mattress.
I didn't move for about 20 hours, I think. I am terribly sore and don't want to move, but my body has needs: I need to go to the bathroom. But I don't dare, am afraid of the pain. I am sure my rectum is ruptured. I wait another hour, then it is simply too urgent. I go to the bathroom and it hurts like hell! I nearly scream. Then I crawl back to my room and fall asleep again.
The next time I wake, there is some food on the floor. The mere look of it makes me sick. I have a fever. I need medical help. I should go and see their medic. But every move hurts so badly, I don't know how to get there, really.
But of course I don't die of it. I manage to enter the core and move to the med-bay, only to find it empty. But voices from the mess make me turn and I walk over and lean against the door-frame, asking them who would be the medic.
My lip is so swollen my mumbling is hard to understand. They all stare at me, mouths agape, eyes wide.
The medic is a rather old fellow - in his late forties. There was no need to ask for him: as soon as he sees me he jumps up.
"Gracious Lord, lad, what happened to you?" the man leads me to the med-bay and closes the door behind us.
"I had a fight." Mumbling with a sore throat.
"Didn't your parents teach you that fighting millstones is of no use? Take off your sweater, please." The man tries to cheer me up. But it doesn't reach me.
He checks my face and says the nose might be broken but since it's not dislocated the best would be to simply leave it alone. He finds two cracked ribs and countless bruises - of course. When I tell him about my tooth, he asks me to sit under a lamp.
"I can't, Sir. I think that I have a rectal rupture. I was bleeding, you know? And it hurts, Sir."
He gives me a strange look.
"Would you then take off your pants and underwear and lie down on your stomach over here?" He points at a stretcher.
I comply, undressing with stiff limbs. The stretcher is cold and I shiver as I lie down on it. He doesn't touch me.
"Boy, I need to get some stuff from the loading bay. I'll be right back." He covers me with a blanket and leaves the room. Minutes later he's back. I can hear the door open and close again behind me. But he's not alone. He lifts up the blanket. I feel terribly exposed.
"I want you to witness this, Morpheus. These bruises are of very different ages. - Tank, did you have more that that one fight?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I don't want to hurt you, Tank. Try to relax."
Then his hands touch my butt, spreading me open. Panic gets a frim grip on me:
They are going to do it again!
With all strength that is left in me I whirl around and try to beat him while I scream at them. The medic jumps backwards as the other man gets hold of me. His arms embrace me like steel bars. I struggle to get free but that's of no avail - he is so much stronger.
"Don't you touch me! Don't! Please..." I stammer on and on. Suddenly I feel very weak and tired, guess they have injected some drugs. In the short moment of calm, just before I fade I can see the medic's face: very pale and sad. And from behind me, the man who still holds me tight is talking to me:
"It's OK son. Nobody's going to hurt you here. Don't worry, you're safe..."
Week One
I have no idea how long I was knocked out. I am still in the med-bay, and can remember several half-wake moments when somebody was feeding me or otherwise caring for me. Looking around I can't see anybody and the door is closed. The fever is gone and the pain too, more or less. Raising my hand I try to touch my nose. There's an IV ending in my vein, but I can't read what it is. Not that it really matters.
The door opens and I can see the captain coming in with the medic on his heels.
"I am Morpheus, the captain of this ship. Do you remember?" as I nod he continues, "How do you feel today?"
"I'm not sure, Sir." My voice sounds less hoarse but my throat is dry, "Please, could I have some water?"
They patiently wait until I have swallowed a whole mug of water. That's good, just what I needed.
"Tank, will you tell us what had happened on the Mayflower?" Morpheus asks me. He comes directly to the point. I don't; turn my head away.
There are a few minutes of silence, only the sounds of the medic who's working in the background are to be heard.
"Tank, while you were here we took X-rays and they tell a story. I ordered your file from Zion and I cannot believe you attacked an officer without being forced to do so in a way." Morpheus goes on. What does he want? He wouldn't accuse another officer anyway. What would it change if I'd tell him about the past months? Nothing.
"Tank, we can't help you - " Morpheus takes on again, but I cut him off.
"Help me? Who do you think you are?" I am terribly angry, "Can you give me that tooth back? Can you make me whole again, huh? You cannot undo this humiliation and neither can I. So I prefer to forget about it. I don't want your help and I don't need it!" my glare cannot stare him down, so I turn away and close my eyes to make Morpheus understand I consider this conversation to be ended now.
Week Two
I am healing slowly. At least my body is. Tonight I decided for the first time to participate their common dinner in the mess. They try hard to behave normal, but I can feel they don't really know what to do or what to talk about. I can see in their eyes they know what had happened. Good. Then they'll know also that I'm no longer willing to swallow.
Across from me sits a teen, hardly 15 years old and obviously all skin and bones. His name is Mouse - really fitting! He fires away with questions and strange theories that make me smile now and then until the guy to my right - Apoc - tells him to shut up. Just like this. Two words and Mouse shrinks, visibly retreats into his too big clothes, muttering under his breath.
Most of the conversation is between the medic - they call him Fitter - and the two women who belong to the crew: Trinity and Switch, now that Mouse has stopped talking.
After about an hour they disappear one by one. There's nothing for me to do, so I stay on my place. Finally I am alone with Morpheus.
"You're an operator, right?" he asks me.
"Yes, Sir."
"I thought we could need you. If you want to, I'd like to keep you on this ship." Morpheus tilts his head slightly, waiting for my answer.
Stay here? I don't know. I didn't like the way Apoc and Mouse acted during dinner. I could perfectly see me in that picture. And here I am again the only free-born. Why should they be different?
"I'm not sure, Sir. Can I think it over?"
"Of course you can. Will you work with us in the meantime?" his face lights up a bit.
"Sure, Sir. Thank you for the offer."
First Month
They seem to be rather nice people here on the Nebuchadnezzar. So far nobody ever said anything negative about free-born. But I am still cautious and won't tell them I'm gay. We work and eat together and sometimes Mouse or Trinity comes to my room to chat.
Mouse wants to learn more about computers. He sucks up everything I can tell him like a dried sponge. He's a funny guy and really obsessed with computers. He is already coding for the construct, and he does it rather well - as far as I can tell from outside.
Mouse hardly ever keeps his mouth shut and slowly I can see why Apoc sometimes silences him. But he has funny ideas about things and he makes me laugh more and more often
Cypher is a cynical man who tends to stick to himself. But he tries to be nice.
Second Month
"So what type of gal you prefer, Tank?" Mouse is asking. This is the type of guys' talk that really bores the shit outta me. I mean, I get along with women. Some of them at Zion are my closest friends. But now I'm sitting here with the others and they are dreaming of things only a straight man may understand. What to say? I would have never thought that I would conceal my preference in men, but the past year has told me it might be better.
"Ah, you know, the body is not so important." That's a good answer, I guess. Quite wishy-washy.
"Yeah, in reality! But what if you could _choose_ the chick of your dreams? Whaddaya like? Big boobs? Or more the androgynous ones?" Cypher's gestures make clear what exactly he means.
"Chocolata!" Apoc sighs, "no matter what build." His eyes are watching me.
"Watch it, Apoc, Switch may hear that!" Mouse giggles.
"Reminds me..." Apoc grins and leaves the room, not without a mock slap on Mouse's head.
Ah, damn! I have no idea! I can't relate to the things that drive them on! Whatever they tell, it's exactly what turns me off. Big boobs! Heavens, no! I should leave, the sooner the better.
"I'm tired, folks. Night." I hurry out of the room.
"Not exactly your subject, huh?" Apoc stands in the hall and grins mockingly.
"What you mean?" My heart skips a beat. Do they know? Was that a test?
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Tank." Apoc whispers and disappears in Switch's room.
Third Month
Things are much better by now: I can eat like normal, my stomach takes everything without complains. I'm gaining weight and muscles again. All bones are healed.
I like to be with the new crew. I've signed a contract for this ship. Especially with Trin and Mouse I spend a lot of time. They're like sister and brother to me.
Slowly I come to realize how much I had changed during the time on the Mayflower. How much of a shell I had built up. Now it's cracking and falling apart again. I am changing back to my old self and that feels good. It's like stretching after sitting for too long in a too small chair .
Only nights like these, when Switch is with Apoc in his room - right beside mine - are hard. They are not exactly quiet and the inevitable sounds of lovemaking outline my own loneliness in a rather cruel, painful way.
I realize that it has been more than one year since I had sex for the last time. One year! Back at Zion one week would have been a catastrophe. Well, on the Mayflower there had been nobody I fancied. They were dirty and mean. But here it's different. There's somebody on this ship... But I can't. For several reasons: it would mean I had to out myself and besides he's definitely off limits.
I cover my ears with my pillow until I fall asleep.
Fifth Month
"What do you think?" Apoc asks me. We are watching a potential during a night-shift. Apoc couldn't sleep and decided to come and chat a bit. The operator's chair has become my second home, so to say. I am happy here. This ship makes up for what I have been through before, no doubt.
"Ah, forget it. She's just fooling around in that chat-room." I want to change the scene, but Apoc stops me.
"Wait." He puts his hand on my forearm to keep me from typing.
And then he leaves it right there. That's a nice feeling and it produces goose-bumps on my back. He gently squeezes my forearm,
"Aren't you lonely, Tank? All these dark nights you're alone in your bunk..." Apoc whispers.
Oh my gosh! What is happening here? Slowly I pull back my arm. Not that I like doing it, but I cannot allow this to happen. A profuse blush covers my face. This was the first touch in a very long time and I am completely startled.
"What are you doing, Apoc?" I try to sound as puzzled as possible.
Oh, how I crave for contact! It takes all control I have not to throw myself into his arms, to finally feel the warmth of another body against mine. What an irony: I cannot allow myself to get what I want and need because I need to protect myself. From what? What for?
"You know exactly what I mean, Tank." Apoc rises and leaves without another word.
For days Apoc tries nothing and this makes me belief it had been nothing but another test. But by night I'm haunted by dreams. I could drown in his eyes and I would want to wrap myself around him like a blanket to keep him warm. To keep me warm. There's only tiny gestures that might mean something, but then they may not.
I wake in the middle of the night, realizing somebody's in my room. My heart beats like crazy and it takes some seconds to realize where I am and who it is. Apoc, sitting on my bunk!
"Easy, Tank." He whispers.
I fall back on the mattress, "Man, you scared the shit outta me!"
Apoc's hand is on my shoulder and slowly slides down my naked arm, making me shiver with pleasure. What does he have in mind?
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you." His voice is so soft, it is as much of a caress as his touch. I am melting. How much I need this I realize only now. Apoc's hand cups my face, caresses my throat, "I wish I could mend your soul."
Something's breaking inside me. Apoc is tearing down the last remains of the walls I had built up on that cursed ship and I can finally wash them away with tears I haven't cried in such a long time. I grab his arm and cling to it like a buoy.
"Don't leave me!" I stammer between sobs.
He won't. Instead he holds me tight while the last poison is washed out of my soul. And even after I stop crying, he stays with me, holds me as he slips under my blanket. Arm in arm we fall asleep.
The End.
"Come-on. The captain wants to see you." A bald white man with a goatee leads me to the captain's room.
There I stand, staring at the floor. No salute. No trust.
"You attacked an officer, Tank? I should lock you up, that's the routine. But I will give you another chance. You may move free on this ship as long as you are obedient and behave yourself. Anything you have to say? Tank?"
Still staring at my toes I neither answer nor do I acknowledge what he said with a nod or so. I am tired and aching and I don't want to see nobody.
The captain sighs.
"Cypher will show you your room. That's all for now."
I'm dismissed. The other guy shows me a single room and I collapse on the mattress.
I didn't move for about 20 hours, I think. I am terribly sore and don't want to move, but my body has needs: I need to go to the bathroom. But I don't dare, am afraid of the pain. I am sure my rectum is ruptured. I wait another hour, then it is simply too urgent. I go to the bathroom and it hurts like hell! I nearly scream. Then I crawl back to my room and fall asleep again.
The next time I wake, there is some food on the floor. The mere look of it makes me sick. I have a fever. I need medical help. I should go and see their medic. But every move hurts so badly, I don't know how to get there, really.
But of course I don't die of it. I manage to enter the core and move to the med-bay, only to find it empty. But voices from the mess make me turn and I walk over and lean against the door-frame, asking them who would be the medic.
My lip is so swollen my mumbling is hard to understand. They all stare at me, mouths agape, eyes wide.
The medic is a rather old fellow - in his late forties. There was no need to ask for him: as soon as he sees me he jumps up.
"Gracious Lord, lad, what happened to you?" the man leads me to the med-bay and closes the door behind us.
"I had a fight." Mumbling with a sore throat.
"Didn't your parents teach you that fighting millstones is of no use? Take off your sweater, please." The man tries to cheer me up. But it doesn't reach me.
He checks my face and says the nose might be broken but since it's not dislocated the best would be to simply leave it alone. He finds two cracked ribs and countless bruises - of course. When I tell him about my tooth, he asks me to sit under a lamp.
"I can't, Sir. I think that I have a rectal rupture. I was bleeding, you know? And it hurts, Sir."
He gives me a strange look.
"Would you then take off your pants and underwear and lie down on your stomach over here?" He points at a stretcher.
I comply, undressing with stiff limbs. The stretcher is cold and I shiver as I lie down on it. He doesn't touch me.
"Boy, I need to get some stuff from the loading bay. I'll be right back." He covers me with a blanket and leaves the room. Minutes later he's back. I can hear the door open and close again behind me. But he's not alone. He lifts up the blanket. I feel terribly exposed.
"I want you to witness this, Morpheus. These bruises are of very different ages. - Tank, did you have more that that one fight?"
"Yes, Sir."
"I don't want to hurt you, Tank. Try to relax."
Then his hands touch my butt, spreading me open. Panic gets a frim grip on me:
They are going to do it again!
With all strength that is left in me I whirl around and try to beat him while I scream at them. The medic jumps backwards as the other man gets hold of me. His arms embrace me like steel bars. I struggle to get free but that's of no avail - he is so much stronger.
"Don't you touch me! Don't! Please..." I stammer on and on. Suddenly I feel very weak and tired, guess they have injected some drugs. In the short moment of calm, just before I fade I can see the medic's face: very pale and sad. And from behind me, the man who still holds me tight is talking to me:
"It's OK son. Nobody's going to hurt you here. Don't worry, you're safe..."
Week One
I have no idea how long I was knocked out. I am still in the med-bay, and can remember several half-wake moments when somebody was feeding me or otherwise caring for me. Looking around I can't see anybody and the door is closed. The fever is gone and the pain too, more or less. Raising my hand I try to touch my nose. There's an IV ending in my vein, but I can't read what it is. Not that it really matters.
The door opens and I can see the captain coming in with the medic on his heels.
"I am Morpheus, the captain of this ship. Do you remember?" as I nod he continues, "How do you feel today?"
"I'm not sure, Sir." My voice sounds less hoarse but my throat is dry, "Please, could I have some water?"
They patiently wait until I have swallowed a whole mug of water. That's good, just what I needed.
"Tank, will you tell us what had happened on the Mayflower?" Morpheus asks me. He comes directly to the point. I don't; turn my head away.
There are a few minutes of silence, only the sounds of the medic who's working in the background are to be heard.
"Tank, while you were here we took X-rays and they tell a story. I ordered your file from Zion and I cannot believe you attacked an officer without being forced to do so in a way." Morpheus goes on. What does he want? He wouldn't accuse another officer anyway. What would it change if I'd tell him about the past months? Nothing.
"Tank, we can't help you - " Morpheus takes on again, but I cut him off.
"Help me? Who do you think you are?" I am terribly angry, "Can you give me that tooth back? Can you make me whole again, huh? You cannot undo this humiliation and neither can I. So I prefer to forget about it. I don't want your help and I don't need it!" my glare cannot stare him down, so I turn away and close my eyes to make Morpheus understand I consider this conversation to be ended now.
Week Two
I am healing slowly. At least my body is. Tonight I decided for the first time to participate their common dinner in the mess. They try hard to behave normal, but I can feel they don't really know what to do or what to talk about. I can see in their eyes they know what had happened. Good. Then they'll know also that I'm no longer willing to swallow.
Across from me sits a teen, hardly 15 years old and obviously all skin and bones. His name is Mouse - really fitting! He fires away with questions and strange theories that make me smile now and then until the guy to my right - Apoc - tells him to shut up. Just like this. Two words and Mouse shrinks, visibly retreats into his too big clothes, muttering under his breath.
Most of the conversation is between the medic - they call him Fitter - and the two women who belong to the crew: Trinity and Switch, now that Mouse has stopped talking.
After about an hour they disappear one by one. There's nothing for me to do, so I stay on my place. Finally I am alone with Morpheus.
"You're an operator, right?" he asks me.
"Yes, Sir."
"I thought we could need you. If you want to, I'd like to keep you on this ship." Morpheus tilts his head slightly, waiting for my answer.
Stay here? I don't know. I didn't like the way Apoc and Mouse acted during dinner. I could perfectly see me in that picture. And here I am again the only free-born. Why should they be different?
"I'm not sure, Sir. Can I think it over?"
"Of course you can. Will you work with us in the meantime?" his face lights up a bit.
"Sure, Sir. Thank you for the offer."
First Month
They seem to be rather nice people here on the Nebuchadnezzar. So far nobody ever said anything negative about free-born. But I am still cautious and won't tell them I'm gay. We work and eat together and sometimes Mouse or Trinity comes to my room to chat.
Mouse wants to learn more about computers. He sucks up everything I can tell him like a dried sponge. He's a funny guy and really obsessed with computers. He is already coding for the construct, and he does it rather well - as far as I can tell from outside.
Mouse hardly ever keeps his mouth shut and slowly I can see why Apoc sometimes silences him. But he has funny ideas about things and he makes me laugh more and more often
Cypher is a cynical man who tends to stick to himself. But he tries to be nice.
Second Month
"So what type of gal you prefer, Tank?" Mouse is asking. This is the type of guys' talk that really bores the shit outta me. I mean, I get along with women. Some of them at Zion are my closest friends. But now I'm sitting here with the others and they are dreaming of things only a straight man may understand. What to say? I would have never thought that I would conceal my preference in men, but the past year has told me it might be better.
"Ah, you know, the body is not so important." That's a good answer, I guess. Quite wishy-washy.
"Yeah, in reality! But what if you could _choose_ the chick of your dreams? Whaddaya like? Big boobs? Or more the androgynous ones?" Cypher's gestures make clear what exactly he means.
"Chocolata!" Apoc sighs, "no matter what build." His eyes are watching me.
"Watch it, Apoc, Switch may hear that!" Mouse giggles.
"Reminds me..." Apoc grins and leaves the room, not without a mock slap on Mouse's head.
Ah, damn! I have no idea! I can't relate to the things that drive them on! Whatever they tell, it's exactly what turns me off. Big boobs! Heavens, no! I should leave, the sooner the better.
"I'm tired, folks. Night." I hurry out of the room.
"Not exactly your subject, huh?" Apoc stands in the hall and grins mockingly.
"What you mean?" My heart skips a beat. Do they know? Was that a test?
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Tank." Apoc whispers and disappears in Switch's room.
Third Month
Things are much better by now: I can eat like normal, my stomach takes everything without complains. I'm gaining weight and muscles again. All bones are healed.
I like to be with the new crew. I've signed a contract for this ship. Especially with Trin and Mouse I spend a lot of time. They're like sister and brother to me.
Slowly I come to realize how much I had changed during the time on the Mayflower. How much of a shell I had built up. Now it's cracking and falling apart again. I am changing back to my old self and that feels good. It's like stretching after sitting for too long in a too small chair .
Only nights like these, when Switch is with Apoc in his room - right beside mine - are hard. They are not exactly quiet and the inevitable sounds of lovemaking outline my own loneliness in a rather cruel, painful way.
I realize that it has been more than one year since I had sex for the last time. One year! Back at Zion one week would have been a catastrophe. Well, on the Mayflower there had been nobody I fancied. They were dirty and mean. But here it's different. There's somebody on this ship... But I can't. For several reasons: it would mean I had to out myself and besides he's definitely off limits.
I cover my ears with my pillow until I fall asleep.
Fifth Month
"What do you think?" Apoc asks me. We are watching a potential during a night-shift. Apoc couldn't sleep and decided to come and chat a bit. The operator's chair has become my second home, so to say. I am happy here. This ship makes up for what I have been through before, no doubt.
"Ah, forget it. She's just fooling around in that chat-room." I want to change the scene, but Apoc stops me.
"Wait." He puts his hand on my forearm to keep me from typing.
And then he leaves it right there. That's a nice feeling and it produces goose-bumps on my back. He gently squeezes my forearm,
"Aren't you lonely, Tank? All these dark nights you're alone in your bunk..." Apoc whispers.
Oh my gosh! What is happening here? Slowly I pull back my arm. Not that I like doing it, but I cannot allow this to happen. A profuse blush covers my face. This was the first touch in a very long time and I am completely startled.
"What are you doing, Apoc?" I try to sound as puzzled as possible.
Oh, how I crave for contact! It takes all control I have not to throw myself into his arms, to finally feel the warmth of another body against mine. What an irony: I cannot allow myself to get what I want and need because I need to protect myself. From what? What for?
"You know exactly what I mean, Tank." Apoc rises and leaves without another word.
For days Apoc tries nothing and this makes me belief it had been nothing but another test. But by night I'm haunted by dreams. I could drown in his eyes and I would want to wrap myself around him like a blanket to keep him warm. To keep me warm. There's only tiny gestures that might mean something, but then they may not.
I wake in the middle of the night, realizing somebody's in my room. My heart beats like crazy and it takes some seconds to realize where I am and who it is. Apoc, sitting on my bunk!
"Easy, Tank." He whispers.
I fall back on the mattress, "Man, you scared the shit outta me!"
Apoc's hand is on my shoulder and slowly slides down my naked arm, making me shiver with pleasure. What does he have in mind?
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you." His voice is so soft, it is as much of a caress as his touch. I am melting. How much I need this I realize only now. Apoc's hand cups my face, caresses my throat, "I wish I could mend your soul."
Something's breaking inside me. Apoc is tearing down the last remains of the walls I had built up on that cursed ship and I can finally wash them away with tears I haven't cried in such a long time. I grab his arm and cling to it like a buoy.
"Don't leave me!" I stammer between sobs.
He won't. Instead he holds me tight while the last poison is washed out of my soul. And even after I stop crying, he stays with me, holds me as he slips under my blanket. Arm in arm we fall asleep.
The End.