Generation

by Ameraka

Just recovering from the events of A New Life, Connie and Jason are invited to an event that they think will be a new start. But soon they meet an old friend and are enticed into a world of intrigue and mystery while Whit is on a secret mission of his own. What will these events mean for the future of the Whittaker family? Warnings: violence, rape mention-human trafficking

75. Determination

Hands everywhere, tearing him apart.

Hands snaking lower, burning his skin as if made of flame.

Twisting him viciously, ripping him, clawing him

Darkness seizing his heart, dragging him down

many, many eyes, piercing him, enjoying his anguish.

He tried to crawl away, but they held him down, pressing harder, carving into him, devouring him.

Only his soul left, drowning in darkness.

He screamed

Hands grabbed him, tearing at his wounds—

"Jason!" Hands shook him. "Wake up!"

Light crept between his eyelids; a shadow moved beyond the flicker of his eyelashes.

Pure terror seized him.

The hands held him down.

He froze.

A scream trapped in his throat.

To his immense relief, the hands withdrew.

"It's just a dream." Sorrow flooded Ali's voice. Dark curls tilted over his forehead, his brown eyes brimming with a pain that echoed Jason's. He wore a shimmering green bathrobe with an intricate flowered design.

"I had to wake you."

"Thank you," said Jason, breathless.

"You're safe now. It can't hurt you."

Warmth filled Jason's heart. At the same time, a quiver of shame ran through him, while remnants of terror still rippled through his veins.

I shouldn't be so affected by this.

If I can't forge forward, I'll never be able to escape. Never get back to Connie, my father.

"You're due for your medicine ," said Ali, gesturing to the tote bag on the floor near the door. "I brought some food, too—but if you'd like a full supper, I can make something."

Jason nodded, yearning for the medicine to take away some of the pain. It wasn't as bad as before, but a strange trembling heat ran through him.

I can't move backwards. I've got to—shed this, somehow. So I can finish planning and escape.

Before Elena gets back.

A shiver ran through him.

She was the reason Zar hadn't gone further than he had.

Because she wanted him for herself.

That is not my future.

Never will I let her or anyone else touch me in that way.

I belong to only one. I won't betray her. I have to crush any weakness.

Leaning on his cane, Ali grabbed the bag, then limped closer. Jason took it and set it on the blanket on his lap.

He was mortified to realize the blanket had slipped down, revealing his chest. It wasn't anything Ali hadn't seen, but his chest felt raw and exposed, as if a giant cat's tongue had just finished scraping it. He shivered under the lights.

Ali's eyes flitted over him, taking in each wound, and heat flashed over Jason's face. He couldn't help but look away.

Without warning, a hand pressed against his forehead and he pulled away, only stopping when he realized the blanket had slipped further down. He yanked it up again, the bag on his lap rattling.

Ali backed away. "I'm sorry. You look like you might have a fever."

"Don't touch me again."

"That was…insensitive. I don't want you dying on me, though."

"I'm not going to die." It struck him how ridiculous it would be to die naked in a blanket in a bathtub. Definitely not doing that.

"I have been lax in my duties. I was giving you space at the expense of your health. I hoped that the meds would be enough—but at this point, you do need your wounds washed."

"You're not doing that."

"Today—perhaps you're strong enough?"

"I have to be."

"Take your pills, and I'll get a thermometer. Then you can take a bath—I'm sure that'll feel good. You'll need new bandages."

"Is Jarl off again?"

Ali nodded. "He's always off by seven, since he usually has supper in his quarters. Just let me know what you'd like and I can make it." He limped out of the room.

Shivering, Jason pulled the blanket up but his arms ached so badly it slipped halfway down again, just covering his stomach.

A golden glint of glitter scintillating on his chest.

And smears of faded iridescent paint, mixed with dried blood.

Nausea hit him and he leaned over the side of the bathtub

His throat tight

Sickness clawing at him.

Nothing came up. He lay down, leaning his head in his arms.

Pain cut through his palms. This time adding to the sick feeling.

I deserve this.

I need to punish myself until I stop being so weak.

I should be strong enough.

If I'm half the agent I used to be.

I have to scrape this skin off—start anew.

At least…

Wash off this glitter

Wash away the slime of his touch still tracing me….

I can't be his.

He deserves nothing. No part of me. No part that Connie has ever touched or loved.

I have to get away from the horror and darkness—not indulge in any vulnerability. Not let them get to me.

Only then can I escape.

He took the pills and nibbled on a cracker but stopped when his stomach lurched. At least he'd gotten the pills down.

Ali came back and handed him the thermometer; after a few moments, it beeped, showing a 100 degree temperature.

"A bath should help get your temperature down," said Ali. "And it'll wash out some of that infection." His eyes flickered over the visible wounds. "The salve will help, too. You'll be able to handle doing that?"

Jason nodded; he couldn't imagine letting Ali touch him.

His eyes strayed, looking a little guilty. "Perhaps I should've been more attentive yesterday. I was sort of just lounging around… dealing with my own issues. Well." He looked back at Jason. "You deserve the best care. The best—everything." His eyes shone over restless shadows.

Ali lifted some towels from the white shelf on the opposite wall and laid one on the floor and one on a towel rack beside the bathtub. "Let me know if you need anything." He turned on the water and left.

It was excruciating, but he managed to climb onto his hands and knees and wash his hair; glitter streamed out into the cascading water then swirled in the pool below.

He wished he could shampoo his hair, but it took so long just to wash out the glitter, so he had to stop before the water reached the top of his nose. Slowly, he slid back, grateful that the painkiller was kicking in.

He took some soap from the rack beside the bathtub; it slipped out of his hands and floated out of reach. After making waves in the tub like he used to as a kid, the soap floated back and he grasped it tightly, the soap stinging the cuts in his palms.

At least he couldn't see all of himself clearly, but this was enough. His body still didn't seem quite his; the distortion of the water enhanced the effect. But of course it was his, even the bruises and cuts and the burn that raged even though the rest of the wounds were dulled. He turned from himself, unable to face it fully. But he couldn't escape the insistent throbbing.

What will she think… I could not tell her all the horrors, but when she sees the scars…

She will accept me. But—how could she not feel a bit strange about it, even though I…didn't ask for it? I've been touched by someone else trying to claim me….

It struck him that Elliot had had some of the same doubts. Jason could understand them now.

Being violated by them… it really did imprint on you like a brand…. Perhaps it wouldn't be that easy to shrug off…

I at least have to… set it aside. Push through this enough to escape.

It's really not that bad… it shouldn't bother me… except…

No one should be hurt like this. I never in a million years would have wanted it.

I just… don't want to be so vulnerable… I don't want to think about him at all when it comes to… anything intimate.

That's what he took from me.

Even if it fades—this is too much. Having to think about him when I… think about her… how will it affect us?

That's why I have to get out. I have to do whatever it takes.

Only one thing I won't do.

I won't… use myself to…seduce them. That would defeat the purpose. That's what Elena wants—for me to feel so tainted that I won't feel like I can escape… she wants to be the one to claim me wholly until there is nothing left… until my skin is only hers, and my soul is in the palm of her hand….

Disgust filled him and he focused on washing off the rest of the glitter.

The burning never stopped. But the water soothed the other injuries, and the bandages floated off.

The water looked quite filthy… he didn't want to be in it anymore with all the grime that had fallen off of him, that had been clinging to him since—

He grasped the side of the tub, his feet slipping. Somehow he managed to tilt over the side and flop onto the towel.

He lay on his stomach, clinging to the red fabric. Then he gathered enough energy to push himself to his knees. And he took the towel from the rack and dried himself, careful not to rub any of the cuts. He wrapped the towel around himself, dismayed to see a remnant of glitter on it.

Perhaps I'll keep finding glitter for weeks…

I'm never going into that room again.

I'm escaping before Zar can finish licking his wounds.

Before Elena returns.

Just… a few more days…

Gather intel…

Start with Ali.

Use his obsession… he is already biased… but how exactly…

Get him drunk…. Use my own weaknesses….

Ali appeared in the bedroom and laid a large bag on the bed. "Are you decent?" he called.

Jason adjusted the towel more tightly around his waist. "I suppose."

"I've got something for you." He dug inside the bag and withdrew a blue silk robe, twined with dragons.

Longing poured through him for actual clothes. He couldn't believe it was for him, until Ali draped it around his shoulders and the soft fabric caressed him. Didn't rub on his wounds at all.

Ali held out his hand and Jason grasped it and he helped him to stand, then into the room. The soft carpet felt good on his feet. And relief filled him as he sank back into the pillows.

Ali withdrew the salve from the bag. "Most of the wounds will benefit from the air, anyway, so you might not need to apply bandages to them. But I'll have to help you with the shoulder wound."

Jason nodded, resigned—he couldn't risk infection.

And so Ali spread salve over it and then bound it carefully. Soon it was done, and it felt better with the fabric firmly around it.

Ali handed Jason the salve. "It's too bad you can't get to the cuts on your back… but those aren't the worst. Let me know if you need any help."

Jason searched Ali's eyes for any ulterior motive.

Ali gazed back, eyebrow raised. "I haven't given you reason to trust me. I hope I can earn that trust."

"You already have. It's just that…."

Ali nodded. "I've seen what…assault does to people. How much it traumatizes them—how long it takes to accept touch again. There is a power imbalance to this situation, I know. But I'd never take advantage of that. Your freedom means more to me than some…passing fancy or…." He shook his head, anger stirring in his eyes. "I'd never want to be anything close to what Zar is. Although we share a penchant for beautiful things... he has no inkling of refinement. He destroys beauty rather than worships it. I… could have taken what I wanted, despite my infirmity."

Horror struck him.

"But to do so would destroy your soul, destroy the beauty I adore. Darken it, at least. And that I cannot do. And so I must protect you and shield you. Advocate for you… step between you and them if need be."

"You would protect me?"

"I would." His eyes flashed. "I—have to make up for—not doing all I could to crush that rapist."

"I hope he doesn't come back."

"He'll at least be censured by Elena. He went too far. Which… shouldn't have been surprising. I will lend my testimony since I was the only objective party there. And Miller has record of your injuries. I doubt Elena will stand for it—perhaps she'll prohibit him from seeing you again."

"I'd love that."

"But—I won't be able to protect you from Elena. Unless… I can somehow persuade her to postpone… or take it easy on you…" He shook his head. "I'm not that influential, to be honest. I would not be able to get away with attacking her like I did with Zar. I could…." He looked troubled. "I could—offer her something else or…" He shook his head more vigorously, his curls dancing. "That would only get us both in hot water. I don't want to do anything that makes it worse for you. I'll try to do what I can, within reason."

"Thank you. And thank you for rescuing me." He ventured a smile.

A smile spread across Ali's face, his eyes lighting up. "Don't mention it." He headed toward the door. "What would you like for supper?"

"I think… you mentioned pizza?" Such a normal thing. Perhaps it would sink an inkling of normalcy back into him.

"Are you okay with cold leftovers?"

"That sounds good."

"Coming right up."

Jason applied some salve to his chest, which tingled soothingly over his wounds. He hoped desperately they'd disappear altogether so he wouldn't have to explain the bite wounds….

He was immensely grateful for the robe. He felt more human, less helpless. Less totally in Ali's power. No longer just a thin sheet or blanket which could fall off at any moment.

The skin that Zar had touched shielded from view.

So now I can… see myself as different, distant from the person I was…in the Gold Room.

The bath had helped, but phantom touches lingered, threatening to press into him as soon as he let his guard down.

If only I could erase it!

I hate to bring her here, but maybe… I can imagine…

Anything so I can be strong enough to escape.

Stay up here only long enough to get some valuable info.

At least pretend to be the agent I used to be.

Ali returned with two pieces of pizza, and he devoured them—one of the best pizzas he'd ever tasted.

Although a pizza in freedom would taste much better

Something else to press forward to.

A pizza.

He almost laughed.

Soon after applying what salve he could, he drifted into dreams.

Dreams where Connie embraced him, wrapping him in total safety and comfort.

Something hummed in the distance. He tried to ignore it; his body ached, and he wanted to retreat back into glorious dreams.

But it became louder, and simultaneously, the aches became impossible to ignore.

He dreaded consciousness, afraid of what he'd find.

The hum flowered into music, lilting classical notes. It soothed him but at the same time, there was a pressing question. Where was it coming from?

So, despite his apprehension, he opened his eyes to see the screen across from him showing rolling hills and woods, then soaring over a herd of running deer.

He flew with it for a while until the pain got so insistent he was barely aware of anything else. He adjusted his position, but it put more pressure on his injured shoulder and he cried out.

A huge shape lumbered in and he scrambled away from it, terror closing his throat.

The man was going to strangle him and–

Jarl spread his hands placatingly. "It's alright. I won't hurt you."

It shot through Jason's heart.

I don't need to panic.

I'm safe here.

What's wrong with me! I've got to uproot this irrational fear from my mind. Can't afford it. Have to calm myself. Have to escape.

Jason pushed himself up on the pillows, using his right hand to avoid the twisting pain in his shoulder. He tried to calm his heart but it still raced; he tried to relax his face but wasn't sure how successful he was.

He knew Jarl wouldn't hurt him.

Well… you could never know for sure…

Jarl set the pills and bottle of water on the bedstand. "Would you like something to eat? I'm making breakfast."

"What are you making?" Just then he realized he could smell a faint scent of bacon. His stomach rumbled.

"Bacon, eggs, and toast. Ali's favorite. I often insist on making something healthier, but today I felt you'd like something more substantial."

"Oh, yes." He hoped his stomach wouldn't reject it. He'd have to take it slow despite his hunger.

After taking the pills, he could hardly contain his eagerness. He almost jumped out of bed.

But he felt impossibly heavy, as if he'd transformed into the heaviest element while sleeping.

No matter what I feel, I have to push forward. Not too fast… but steadily. Hopefully the food will give me enough energy to actually do something today.

He sipped the water, and soon Jarl returned with a tray of food. Jarl set it down beside him.

Just the aroma transported him to ecstatic heights. It took all his willpower not to gobble it all up.

But he took a few bites at a time, savoring every nuance of the crispy bacon bursting over his tongue. And the eggs! Just the way he liked them. He dipped the toast into the runny yolks and slid the whites on top of the toast and couldn't help but devour the rest.

There was also a lovely mango drink – tanged with flavors he'd never tasted before—but his stomach threatened to rebel so he set it down when it was still half full.

He lay there for a while, immersing in the scenery, then it crept into his mind he should start pushing himself.

Moving my body will get my mind moving. It was impossibly sluggish. Weighed down by many unnecessary horrors…

He slid out of bed, ignoring the aches in every muscle, and shuffled across the floor. His head whirled, and he almost tipped several times, but he made it to the bathroom and then back out to the scarlet chair in the corner.

Proud of just that much, he lay back, just breathing. Beneath his relief he felt an inkling of frustration. He couldn't afford days more of recovery. Who knew how the others were doing Below.

The books beckoned to him, and The Odyssey drew his eyes.

The word pierced his heart.

He couldn't even process how much longing he had for his town. He'd been gone so long, it seemed like months, years. But it had only been… what day was it? He'd lost track of the days again.

He tottered over to the bookshelf and pulled The Odyssey out. He hadn't read it since 7th grade.

And he immersed in the story.

The great adventure, yanking him back to his childhood.

All the while, beneath the ancient words, was the horror of how Odysseus was separated from his wife….

Years and years…

Such a nightmare.

I know she'd be faithful.

But what about me? Haven't I already betrayed her?

I never asked for it!

Shouldn't you have fought harder? If you really hadn't wanted it, you would never have let your guard down—

Perhaps you wanted to see what it was like—

"Shut up!" Only when the words echoed against the walls did he realize that he'd spoken aloud. He was standing, shivering, the closed book in his hand.

He sank back into the chair.

This has to stop… I washed away the glitter… wasn't that enough…

I'm not that far gone. I would never knowingly betray her. It wasn't a betrayal. Otherwise why would I still be in shock, trembling like this, days after…

Zar may have won. Not by…hurting me, but by making me so weak…

Your weakness is what betrays her. Makes you theirs by default… keeps you from doing enough to get back to her…

He couldn't argue this time.

He tried to read but his eyelids kept closing and so he hauled himself into bed. Collapsed awkwardly onto the mattress and slept, head on the corner of one pillow.

When he dragged himself awake, he figured it was late afternoon. Simmering panic twined through him. I can't be here.

His body was impossibly heavy, but the aches had dulled. Not nearly as bad as they had been this long from the morning painkiller dose before.

Of course, he could be wrong; it could still be morning, or it could be the next day.

In any case, I need to get moving.

He crawled out of bed shakily then forced himself to stand. Supporting himself with the bed for a moment, then standing on his own. Making sure the robe was tight around his waist, as little of his skin showing as possible, he shuffled out to the living room. He hadn't seen it since he'd been wheeled in.

Ali started from the couch. "Oh! Jason! How are you doing?"

"I'm…fine."

"You look like a ghost. Come, sit." He gestured to the yellow chair beside him. The chair did look comfortable.

He sauntered over to the chair, his head whirling. On the giant floor-to-ceiling TV, a video of various waterfalls was playing. One reminded Jason of the waterfall in Paraguay. Perhaps it was, but he was too overwhelmed to concentrate on it. He just had to get to the chair.

He sat down, breathing hard. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the room stop spinning. When he opened his eyes, Ali was leaning across the chess board on the coffee table, gliding the opposite piece forward, a vanilla-colored knight.

"I've been playing this game all day," said Ali. "I'm a very formidable opponent." He flashed a smile.

"What time is it?"

"It's—" Ali looked at his watch. "About 3:00. Hey, would you like some lunch? I didn't want to bother you, but there is some leftover casserole in the fridge."

Jason nodded.

"That should help you feel better." He headed to the little kitchenette on the other side of the room. "So should the restorative." He opened the door and slid out a ceramic dish and set it on the island. He looked at Jason apologetically. "I'm sorry—that's the last of the restorative."

"Why?"

"We have…limited supply. They don't want to waste it on slaves." His voice dripped with disdain. "This should get you over the worst of it. As soon as you get some food in you, I'd wager you'll feel a lot better. Maybe even good enough to play a game." He grinned.

"I won't be a challenging opponent."

"I'll take it easy on you." He set the dish in the microwave and turned it on, then leaned his forearms on the island. "Actually I'm not at my sharpest either. I don't know what this…malaise is. I had to give you your space… but I was also… just lollygagging around aimlessly…. Not much to do. I didn't even want to do anything though."

"Well, you're not recovered yet—the bullet wounds were worse than my injuries."

"I suppose," said Ali. "I slept till ten today. Bullet wounds do take a while to heal. I've been so frustrated, but now I don't care. I just want to sleep." He laughed.

The microwave beeped and Ali took the plate from the microwave and limped over to Jason. Jason realized he wasn't using his cane.

"Maybe the rest did help. I can walk a little without it but probably not very far yet." He slid down onto the couch, looking exhausted himself, and set the plate on the coffee table.

The casserole looked like noodles, cheese, broccoli, and sliced hotdogs. He stabbed a hotdog, unable to even remember what they tasted like.

He slid it into his mouth.

Amazing—salty—mouthwatering. It nearly melted on his tongue. He squished it on the roof of his mouth, delighting in its nuances of flavor.

"How is it?" asked Ali.

"Delicious."

"Oh good! I'm not the greatest chef, that's why I'm glad I have Jarl. He makes perfection. However—sometimes you need comfort food." He patted his stomach. "How did you like your breakfast?"

"My favorite."

"Mine too!" Ali seized a chess piece, clutching it to his heart. "Maybe we have more in common than we think." His eyes glittered with wonder.

Jason was repulsed by this, until he realized he wanted Ali to feel close to him.

Just not too close.

He was glad he wasn't afraid of him, though. Perhaps because he really had proven his trustworthiness.

Just to keep me for himself.

A shiver ran through him.

No—if he'd wanted me, he'd have taken me already. I certainly was incapacitated enough…

The horror of being so vulnerable drenched him and for a moment he was frozen, unable to eat.

"Doesn't agree with you after all?" said Ali.

"Just—you know. Dark thoughts."

"I get it. I mean—I've never had that happen, but… just lying around here I get despondent. Start thinking I'll never be back to my old self again… I'll never heal right… But that's just those doubts talking. I will be back out there again, an agent—and so will you. I mean—" He shook his head, stuffing his hand into his curls.

"I know what you mean," said Jason.

"I suppose I don't really know what slaves feel…. I couldn't unless… well—she wanted to punish me in that way. But I do feel… pain when you're in pain. It's even stronger than…. Well. Might be why I feel so bad, can't get up… my soul is bound to yours."

"Ali—"

"You're not bound to me and not beholden to me. And I would never force you to be. But my soul is bound to yours, for better or for worse." His eyes darted back and forth. He whispered, "I think dangerous thoughts."

"Like what?"

Ali laughed a little. "They don't monitor Admins. Still, I get a bit paranoid."

"Maybe you should leave."

"I can't."

"Maybe you are a slave, then."

"Maybe. I'll just have to live with my relative freedom. Although…" He looked at Jason, head tilted.

His gaze became uncomfortable and Jason looked down at the chessboard. The pieces were intricately carved, delicate marble. There were a few chips but they didn't diminish their beauty.

Jason picked up a chocolate-colored piece and flipped it over. Its gentle coolness soothed him and its nearly translucent stone covered the wounds in his palms.

"Beautiful, aren't they," said Ali.

Jason nodded. His throat seemed to have gotten tired of speaking.

"I got them from—Argentina. Buenos Aires." He spread out one arm. "I gather things from all corners of the world—but this is my favorite." He tapped the coffee table, which was made of what looked like a sanded and polished tree stump, roots seemingly reaching into the carpet. Unique twisted remnants of branches and knotholes. The center looked like resin, where butterflies were embedded. Jason's heart flipped over. He hoped the butterflies had been dead when found, not captured. Something so free shouldn't be killed, just for a cheap illusion…Tears sprang to his eyes.

"Where did I get it? Early on… Oh! Cambodia. On a drug job. I'll probably be rotating around to that again… Not that I mind, it's just that… Here I am, rambling on. Starved for companionship. But I don't want to bombard you too much. I'll shut up." He sat back and contemplated the chess board.

Jason was able to finish his lunch in peace and really enjoy it, including the cucumbers and blueberries. Afterwards, he really did feel better. Lighter somehow. They do say blueberries are good for your mind… maybe I'd better eat a lot of those… I also need to devour protein…

He settled back to watch the program and was hypnotized by the waterfalls.

Sure enough—Iguazu Falls appeared and he felt as if he were freefalling into its depths.

"What's wrong?" said Ali.

He hid his head in his arm. "I can't—"

The sound ceased and Jason looked to see a blank screen.

"I'm sorry if something disturbed you," said Ali.

"It's—where I went with—Connie on our…" The word stuck in his throat.

"Would you like to watch something else?"

"What is there?"

"We've got virtually every movie and TV show."

"Not legally?"

"What's legal? Here we make our own rules."

"Just as long as it's not… what Elena showed me."

Ali grimaced. "Yeah she tends to use those for pressure… It's all aimed at breaking down your defenses. Like showing those videos will make you want her. Even before… well. I've never had much trouble finding companionship…. Except…."

The intense longing in Ali's eyes hit him like a thousand watt searchlight.

"Elena hasn't had much trouble finding companionship either, she just prefers slaves. Which I'll never understand. I want something real." He clenched his hand. "Nothing else around me is—but I want love to be real. That's why—if Connie deserves your love—I won't begrudge that. I'll worship her because she's worthy of it, because you chose her. Still… it's both wonderful and agonizing to have you here with me. I suppose that's what's really wrong with me." He pressed his hand to his heart. Then he turned toward the screen and turned on the movie.

At first he wondered if he might pull the same trick Elena had, despite his assurances, but it was action all the way through, except the obligatory romantic interest. He was also glad it wasn't about secret agents but about an ex-special forces soldier who had to find a kidnapped girl.

He was swept up in the story and was happy for the distraction, but an urgent feeling began to press at him, making the climax blur into an indistinct mass.

As soon as it ended, Jason asked, "Can you find out how Kara and Karim are doing?"

"Sure, I can do that for you."

"I hope they weren't… hurt too badly."

"You never know with Michelle and Maylin. They have no sympathy at all—just see slaves as objects to discard when they're done. At least Elena is…" He dropped his eyes. "Relatively gentle sometimes. She will sometimes allow consent. But her manipulation knows no bounds. Her gentleness is—part of getting into your soul. That's almost worse. Harder to get connected to someone who just beats you up all the time."

"You sound like… you've had experience?"

He gave a harsh laugh. "We were a thing once. I tend to block it out. She swept me up into a whirlwind romance—I was flattered to be seen by the Supreme—and she treated me as an equal. But then I realized she was controlling my every move, making me long for her favors—she'd give me everything one day, and barely look at me the next. That's just her way. I can be a master manipulator when I want to be. But she enjoys twisting people in knots—it's her recreation. And even worse if you're a slave. At least you won't be in Zar's claws. But I don't envy you what Elena has in store."

"Maybe it won't happen."

"She always gets what she wants. After she was done with me, she discarded me as if I'd never caught her notice. But by then, I was hers. I threw myself into my work and fell in love with that. Had dalliances—nothing major. Didn't find my soulmate, so I left them by the wayside. Then… you came along. Now I'm spoiled for life." He laughed.

"I bet you'll find someone."

"Perhaps. It'll take me a while to get over this though. Right now I can't imagine… not thinking about you every hour, even if you're far away. I'll imagine what she's doing to you and I'll—want to choke her."

"Maybe…you can do something to stop it."

"What can I do? I'm nothing to her."

"Maybe…. Manipulate her…"

"She's out of my league. She has her radar sharply tuned to any manipulation. But maybe…. I can delay her in some way…." He bit his lip. "If I thought offering myself to her would do something, I would."

"You would do that?" Perhaps there was some hope if Ali would sacrifice that much.

"I might chicken out. I've got a strong streak of self-preservation. Sends shivers down my spine just thinking about letting her touch me. Besides—if she really wanted, she could take me at any time. So I'm not sure what that would do. Maybe—distract her a little. Other than that… I'm sorry, but the only way out is through."

Jason could never trust him with his intentions to escape. So it was best that he see Jason as trapped. Still, he hoped he wasn't right. "If I survive."

"It will damage you but—you'll emerge with your soul intact. You'll just have to play along a bit. If you can become like me, an Enforcer, you'll have quite a bit of freedom."

"That's not enough."

"It's the best you can hope for. Maybe we can be partners."

Disgust filled him at that prospect. "I'll never be part of her criminal empire."

"Then you will break under her. I hope you… realize sooner than later what your only choice is."

"If that happens—I will have sacrificed my soul. I can't imagine hurting innocent people."

"You'll probably have to. But you don't have to go overboard the way some do. Think of that! You'll be able to do some good. Perhaps help some people on the side. You will become an agent! They'll build you to your optimum. You'll be able to do what you're born for."

"I cannot hurt innocent children."

"Then you can filter into the drug or weapons side. We sell weapons to all kinds—including people fighting for independence. You could maneuver into the better side of what we do."

"It's all connected, Ali."

"Well—everything is connected if you think about it. No one's hands are clean. We all deal with shady people, knowingly and unknowingly, because that's how the world works."

"Seeing how this place works—the horrors here—there can be nothing good it produces. It's all soaked in blood." He shook his head, knowing he would die before he worked here. He was afraid his soul might die if he was coerced. But he'd be out before then.

"I'll try to make your journey smoother, in any way I can. Perhaps I'll get transferred to your section…. And we can both do good. I actually find myself wanting to do good." He looked at Jason wonderingly.

"I won't let her get near me."

Ali frowned. "I don't want you to just submit to it, but—if you fight—it'll be all the worse for you. I don't want to…see you like that again." He closed his eyes, brow creased. Then he opened them and looked at him. "Please don't hurt yourself unnecessarily."

"She would be the one hurting me."

"You cannot win here. I've seen so many try…. So many fight…. It… never ends well. You wouldn't be you if you didn't fight. Just—don't resist too long. What Zar did to you will be nothing in comparison." He looked into Jason's eyes earnestly, fear stirring in them.

Jason looked away, heat flashing over his skin. Then chills. Flashes of that night burned through his mind. Razing patches of it, cutting down conscious thought. Perhaps destroying parts of his mind.

"Hey—maybe we should focus on something lighter," said Ali. "Let's not talk about those things—not when we don't have to."

Jason nodded, feeling like he needed some more space between him and the Gold Room before he could think about it without horror overwhelming him. As frustrating as it was, he needed to recover a few days more…

How long should I stay here? I can't abandon the others, and we have to have our meetings… I wonder if they've been planning without me, or if they've been…diverted….

Worst case scenarios ripped through his mind. Someone was dead. Someone was tortured to shreds. One of the children had been—

Stop thinking about that. Think of something else. Find out something, anything… without him getting suspicious…

Ask innocuous questions first.

A pressing question—"What day is it, anyway?"

"Wednesday, September 8th."

He did a quick calculation. He'd been taken from downstairs on the night of the 4th. Or morning of the 5th.

Three days. Could be worse, but a lot could happen in that time.

Fifteen days since he'd been captured.

Fifteen days since he'd seen Connie last.

Two weeks. Two weeks cut off from her, unable to see her or touch her—

He wondered how she was doing, how much pain she was in.

I'm the cause of her pain.

I never should have left…

We should have flown out of here…

Muldavia be damned.

"How are you feeling?" said Ali. "Would you like some refreshments? Supper will be soon but—I can get you something." He headed over to the kitchen and rummaged in the cupboards. "I guess I have to restock… but I've got some dried blueberries, some mushroom-flavored chips, some wine—"

"That sounds good."

"What?"

"All of it."

Ali bundled it in his arms and hobbled over. "Would you like to watch another movie?"

"Sure."

Ali set the things down on the table. Then he fetched two wine glasses and they settled in to watch the movie. Jason picked it this time. Indiana Jones. His comfort movie.

The blueberries were amazing and so were the chips. He'd never had that flavor before. Ali told him it was a Muldavian specialty.

And the wine—divine.

It reminded him of watching movies with Elena, and so he drank more of it to drown the feeling.

He only stopped when Ali said he shouldn't drink so much, not with the painkillers. But he didn't feel any pain.

They played a rather haphazard game of chess and Jason realized that maybe he shouldn't have indulged so much.

But I need something good.

And the supper Jarl made was delicious—steak and potatoes and corn—and for a while he totally forgot about the past, and forgot why he was here, and just had a good time.

Not long after supper, drowsiness hit him, and after Ali reminded him to take his pills, he meandered to bed and didn't remember much after that.

When he woke, the only pains were a slight headache and a prickle in his arm and—the burning below his waist. Not as bad, but still—it immediately dropped him back into the abject helplessness, the agony, the violation. Even though it hadn't been the worst, it was what stuck in his mind, the humiliation and dehumanization clinging to him like a second skin. He wished he could tear it all off but he still wouldn't be able to erase the wounds….

The shock wounds were still red, unlike the others, which had partially scabbed over. And he realized it was probably because he hadn't applied salve to them.

He shuffled to the bathroom, his muscles aching. And he locked the door and took the salve off of the sink then spread it over the wounds, trying to avoid thinking about where they'd come from.

The coolness soothed the burning. But he couldn't help but wonder if there was lasting damage….

Our only son lost. Never able to watch our kids grow up….

Instead, my next child would be Elena's instead of Connie's! It crushed his heart.

Unless—

A spark of hope struck him. Perhaps Connie is pregnant now. He was overjoyed that at least they'd made love before he was captured… and the pregnancy could comfort Connie until he returned… when he escaped they could heal together….

This fantasy buoyed him enough so that he could make his way into the living room before Ali or Jarl came into the bedroom.

Jarl was nowhere to be seen, and Ali was lying on a couch, his head flung back on the pillow. He was snoring.

The wine bottle was still sitting on the coffee table with some empty plates and Jason picked them up and took them to the kitchen. He rummaged around, happy he was well enough now that he wasn't as clumsy, and remnants of his expertise as an agent kicked in, so he was as silent as a whisper. He took out some chocolate milk and chocolate puff cereal and ate at the blue marble island.

The wine tempted him but he couldn't dredge up the energy to put it back so he just stared at its rosy depths.

He prayed that he wouldn't collapse into despair again. Don't let vices overtake me. Don't let those flashbacks drag me down.

Please give me some sort of barrier so I can at least get through this… use all my assets… lead the slaves to freedom.

He looked at Ali again, who was stirring a little.

Perhaps I can use the wine to weaken his will….

Ply him for secrets. Then, he might not even remember.

He headed to the bathroom and washed off the sweat and dirt and flakes of blood. As well as a few sparkles. Perhaps I'll never be rid of them…

He put the robe on inside out to avoid the remnants of dirt collected yesterday, then wandered around until settling in front of the chess board. He contemplated it, imagining a game.

Ali stirred and stretched, then pulled himself to a sitting position, lounging on the corner of the couch. "G'morning Jason! Want to play?"

"Maybe we should get dressed first." Unlike Jason's, Ali's robe sagged open, partly a casualty of sleeping in it on the couch. The belt was perilously loose.

And Jason wanted something more normal to wear if Ali would lend him some.

Ali looked down. "Oh. Right." He tightened the belt a little. "I often don't get dressed when I'm just lollygagging around here, recovering."

"Maybe it would make you feel better."

Ali tilted his head. "I suppose I do want to feel more like a human being now. Can't let legitimate resting turn into laziness—got to get to my optimum. I need a bit more recovery to get out in the world but I want to be at my best to help you and not be so—helpless as last time." He stood. Grabbed his cane from the opposite couch and marched into the bedroom. On the right side of the bed was a large walk-in closet, and Ali turned on the light.

Jason stayed outside of the closet, not feeling comfortable going into such a small space. Ali rummaged around, taking out some clothes then shaking his head and putting them back. Finally he brought out several shirts and pants and laid them on the bed.

A canary yellow silk shirt, a green and black checkered one, and a red V-neck one which Jason felt plunged too low for him. There was also a black pair of pants, a leather mustard yellow pair, and jeans.

"Go ahead, I'll choose from what you leave," said Ali.

Jason touched the yellow shirt, which did feel soft and light. So was the checkered one. They were both a little too flashy for his tastes, especially now when he didn't want to draw attention to himself, but at least he wasn't going back down today. Probably.

I'd better go down tomorrow as soon as I can, though.

That means I have to pry the intel from Ali today. But he'll be suspicious if I'm too overt, so I've got to actually cultivate a natural camaraderie…

He hated to admit there was already a tenuous bond between them, but he couldn't help but feel warmth toward Ali, who had rescued him, let him have this vital recovery time, and provided Jason with the best care.

It could be some kind of manipulation… but his instincts told him otherwise.

The irony hit him—he was going to have to manipulate Ali. To survive.

In the end, he picked the yellow shirt, because he felt like wearing yellow today. He picked the black pants because he thought they'd be more comfortable where he was still most sensitive.

Ali picked up the red shirt and his eyes brightened. "I like this one best anyway." As soon as he headed into the other room, Jason shut the bedroom door, and, because it didn't lock, went into the bathroom to change.

He was right; the silk clothes slid gracefully onto his body, almost as light as air. He leaned against the doorframe, eyes closed, taking deep breaths of relief.

So wonderful to have fabric embracing his limbs again. Much more secure.

Yet easily sliced—

Don't go there. Doesn't matter. He can't matter.

When Jason emerged, Ali, sitting at the island, clapped. "Good choice!"

"I don't really care what I look like at this point."

"It's true we aren't going out today." He touched the collar of the red shirt. "I feel better already. I forget how good I feel when I make an effort. I'm always dashing but—I was letting myself go a bit too much there." He slid his hand through his hair. "Next is this mess." He ruffled it. Curls stuck in all directions.

Jason couldn't help but laugh.

"Be glad you don't have curls—they're a nightmare."

"Yours usually look fine to me."

Ali laughed. "Thanks. I'd feel more flattered if you actually were style-conscious. But I'll take what I can get." He took some peanut butter puffs from the cupboard and some regular milk from the fridge. As he poured the milk, he said, "You have your own style without knowing it. You actually enhance what you wear. You'd look fantastic in a dirty old farm shirt and worn out jeans. Very few people have this quality; I'm gorgeous but I don't have that rare kind of naturalness. Charisma—without an inflated ego about it. It is just—" He pressed his thumb and forefinger together. "Ever thought about being a model?"

Jason shook his head. "That wasn't really on my radar, no."

"The world's loss. Your real talents lie in other areas anyway. But—if you'd just do some amateur modeling… you could make a killing. Just put some clothes on, do an hour photoshoot—Boom! You'd have another five thousand bucks a month."

"That much?"

"The sky's the limit, really, with Instagram and platforms like that."

Jason shook his head. "I'd never really consider that. Unless I was out of money. If I'd known about this back in college—"

"You could've paid your way."

"It would've interfered with my agent career."

"Could've been your cover, though. Perhaps when we're working together, I could be your agent—"

Jason strode away, heart aching, unable to face such a thing. Not while he was striving for hope.

He turned on the TV and flipped through the options. There were recent movies, just out in theaters. Instead of one of them, which he wanted to see when he was back out, he chose Jurassic Park. When Ali returned, carrying two cups of coffee, he turned down the lighting and handed Jason one of the mugs, which had a sunshine on it. Jason turned from Ali and settled in to watch the movie. It did fit with his rough plan—not rush too fast to make Ali suspicious, and to create camaraderie by watching side by side, together in silence.

It could never be complete trust or friendship; Jason could never fully let his guard down around him. No matter how sympathetic he seemed. No matter how biased toward Jason his affection made him. That was also part of the problem. He could never fully be comfortable around him, no matter how much he helped. His closeness might be interpreted as something else, and that could never be. He couldn't do that to Ali either—give him any sort of false hope.

What can I give him? Something to bring us closer, make it so he can't see why I want to be closer…

What does he want that I can give?

Friendship.

Can something tainted by manipulation truly be friendship?

Perhaps not. But I can't afford to be squeamish. I will do whatever it takes. Short of what I can never do.

Nothing I haven't done as an agent… things I wasn't proud of. But this is survival.

It turned out Ali had never actually seen the movie, and so Jason used it as an opportunity for an innocuous conversation, where he took the lead.

Afterwards, they played a quick game of chess while Jarl cooked tacos for lunch. Jason made a few of his impulsive moves; Ali laughed and stepped up his game, making some of his own.

The lightning-fast moves kept the game challenging, with Ali neck and neck. He had found someone who also didn't rely on the textbook. In the end, Ali's experience won out (some might say fanaticism) and Jason's head whirled—his mind definitely wasn't in its best shape.

He was hungry anyway, and they ate in front of the TV, Jarl joining them. Jason wondered if Jarl would give him info… willingly or unwillingly….

"I'll miss your cooking," said Jason.

"I'll miss serving you," said Jarl.

Ali looked at Jason. "It really is too bad you're stuck down there with such mediocre fare. They do it on purpose, of course. Just enough to keep you going. Save money on you while sending the message you're not worth spending more effort on. I love junk food as much as the next person… but I tried what they cook down there once." He made a face.

"I wish I could send you some," said Jarl. "But I don't have any official status in the kitchens."

"Hey…" said Ali. "Maybe I could get it for you."

"What?"

"You'd definitely be hired if people knew your talents."

"It would be…more exposed."

"I don't want to put you out there if you'd rather not. And it's marvelous having such a good personal chef. They would probably steal you from me if they knew. Maybe I can just sneak some down to Jason somehow…"

"I don't know if I can go back to the other food now," said Jason. "If you can find a way… maybe send it to my room…"

"Of course! I think I can get that taken care of. If you don't mind cooking for two." He looked at Jarl.

Jarl shook his head. "I'd love to do something to help. I'd send food down to everyone if I could."

"They wouldn't let you cook good food for them anyway," said Ali. "I do need to get you another phone, Jason. The one Zar smashed is unsalvageable. I might have to wait a little, so I don't arouse suspicions I'm showing too much favoritism."

"That's okay," said Jason, anxiety spiking at being cut off from calling for help if…there was a next time.

Jarl took their dishes to the kitchen and slid them into the dishwasher. Then he slipped back into his room.

Without something to focus on, the burning returned with a vengeance. Perhaps it seemed stronger because the other wounds were healing and it was now the most prominent pain. The worst thing was that it came with the most agonizing memories. He couldn't crush them. And it was hours until his next painkiller dose.

He curled up on the couch, hoping Ali wouldn't notice.

"What would you like to do next?" said Ali. "I've got some other board games… video games… or maybe you'd like to rest." His eyes grew concerned.

I've got to push through this. Can't afford to rest.

Vulnerability catch him off guard, make him provide something I need without him suspecting—

Perhaps best is to just take what opportunities arise at the moment—if I can actually catch them while in this much pain…

"Where does it hurt?" Ali loomed over him, shadow falling across his face.

He cringed away.

Ali took a step back. "I can't help you unless you tell me."

"It's—" Heat spread across his face. "I couldn't apply salve there before today… and I couldn't let you do it. So it's…still sensitive."

"That makes sense. Especially after how savagely you were burned. Just a moment." He hurried over to the cupboard and withdrew several bottles. "They'll probably want your pills accounted for, but mine they don't care about. I've got some milder ones and another restorative." He grabbed a coke can from the fridge and sat on the edge of the coffee table and handed it and the pills to Jason.

"You don't need these?" said Jason.

"They'll send me more if I request them. A few missing won't send off alarm bells."

Jason tilted them gratefully into his mouth, the other pressing issue twining through his mind. "So… you don't think there could be…lasting damage?"

"I'm not an expert but I've seen what each shockrod setting does. This was actually the second lowest setting. If you've been shocked with it before, you know its lasting effects are pretty minor."

"It didn't feel minor."

"That's because… it was in a sensitive area. There will be more damage…but still. You won't have to worry about anything permanent. Perhaps some scarring….."

He might not have been so sensitive before, but now… speaking about such things filled him with shame. "I hope not." It was bad enough if he had scarring… He remembered seeing aftereffects of agents who had been tortured with electric current. Photos of injuries in the same place—some of them much worse. Almost unimaginable. He didn't want to think about how much pain those men had been in. It was one of the hazards of being an agent—and so far he had escaped it. Many weren't so lucky; it was often where the most nefarious focused their torture.

Now at least I can empathize with them a little….

There was another related issue—one he hadn't wanted to face. But since he intended to leave soon, he had to know.

"Do you know…where Zar is?" His throat tightened, pressure crushing his chest.

"I'll check for you."

"Can you find out about Kara and Karim too?"

"Oh, yes, thanks for reminding me." He grabbed his laptop from under the coffee table and powered it up. He glanced at Jason. "No peeking. Since I'm out of the game right now, I'm only supposed to have basic access. The other slaves don't concern me, and neither does Zar. But… it's pretty easy to get around that." He sat cross-legged on the couch opposite Jason and typed rapidly.

That's interesting, Jason's mind bookmarked. Ali can access the main program just from his laptop… I wonder if I could get into it… perhaps best to find out what kind of key I'd need…. Or if biometrics is needed….

"Alright," said Ali, looking at him. "I found out where Zar is. He checked out of Med on the afternoon of the fifth. And he hasn't checked in any of the slaves—so that means he's not here. If I could go deeper, I could find out if he was reprimanded, but I don't want to flip a tripwire."

"Is…Elena back?"

"No, not yet. We're all kind of on low-power mode until she returns."

"Do you know where she is?"

Ali shook his head. "That's classified except to the ones she took along with."

"Where does she usually go?"

"Usually it's out of the country. Overseeing some ops personally, perhaps punishing a wayward Admin. If she's in Muldavia, she'll have to be extremely low profile."

"Why?"

Ali smiled wryly. "Because of what you did in the eighties. She can't show her face anywhere in Muldavia—not where there is any chance of an outside audience."

"I'm not in any hurry for her to return… but I'm even less eager to see Zar again. It's too bad he wasn't seriously injured."

"Here it says that he did indeed have a concussion. So he probably won't be back for at least a week, reprimand or not."

Jason took a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His head spun with relief. But already three days of the week had gone by since he'd left… the clock was ticking…. "I suppose Elena returning will be inevitable. At least if she's back, Zar won't be able to get at me."

Ali rubbed his jaw, which had about two days growth of stubble. Then he said, "I'm sorry to say this, but whether Elena is here or not has nothing to do with it."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing happens here without her stamp of approval."

"You mean she—ordered it?" His stomach sank.

"Or merely allowed it. It's hard to say. He did go a bit overboard… that's why I'm thinking it was allowed and Zar just went too far."

"Why would she order it?"

"My bet is that—she wants to speed up your breakdown. It'll be moving faster from now on. I'm sorry."

He would have sunk into despair if he hadn't had the momentum of nascent hope.

Another thing bothered him. "So… that means she approves of you having me here."

"You wouldn't be here if she didn't approve. But that's because she wants the best care for your recovery. And I'm the best choice, because she knows I won't take advantage of you, and she knows I would never defy her."

"What about Kara and Karim?"

"Karim was admitted to Med on the morning of the fifth. It looks like he had… some minor wounds and abrasions. Most serious were the whip wounds, but since he was whipped so often before, it was already protected by scar tissue. Kara's…were more serious, I'm afraid. She lost about a lot of blood." He shook his head. "Michelle knows just how much she can get away with before lasting damage. There were some deep cuts… risk of infection… so she was held till eight a.m. yesterday. She had a minor fever. A few…internal injuries."

Bloodred rage slashed through his mind.

Michelle was twisted beyond comprehension. To do that to someone! It was demonic.

He wished he could take Michelle down, teach her a lesson.

The pain in his palms made him realize his fists were clenched and he loosened them; blood welled up in the cuts.

"What is it?" said Ali, setting his laptop down beside the chess board. "Oh! I'll get you some bandages."

"I'm fine."

"You don't want to bleed all over my couch, do you?" He snatched some bandages and salve from the cupboard, as well as dampening a cloth. Then he reeled back over, gasping since his foot must've hit the floor too hard, jarring his leg.

He sat beside Jason and gently washed the wounds, then applied salve and bound them. "You sure did a number on yourself."

Jason nodded, willing himself not to damage himself anymore. If he got infected, where would he be. Delayed even more.

We have to get Kara and Karim out of here. And the others.

Thinking of Kara, so small and delicate, being torn apart by Michelle made his heart twist with pain.

We can't let it happen again. Such a sweet, gentle soul… she belongs in freedom, free to pursue her dreams.

Be with the one she loves, no suppression.

He longed for it so desperately he could almost see it, a vague vision—

Perhaps we could do a small ceremony here… lift everyone's spirits before the escape—

But how would it not be found out?

We could use code….

They settled back to play a game of chess while Ali played some music. No movie this time; it was a serious game. And so it went slower than before. A few lightning moves, but most were after at least a few minutes of contemplation.

It was challenging; Jason's mind was still sluggish. He suspected the painkiller didn't help. But this would help sharpen his mind. He needed to get it in top working order—not easy so soon after the pain and fear that had torn his body. Part of him chastised himself for being so weak, but part of him felt that he still needed at least a week of recovery time.

But he couldn't allow himself that.

And Elena probably wouldn't either.

A quiver of panic laced through him.

"Do you know when Elena will be back?" Jason asked as he moved his white knight, killing one of Ali's pawns.

Ali shook his head, contemplating the board. "She doesn't share her itinerary. But she rarely stays away longer than a week. She has to disappear so that no one will be able to track her movements or find any sort of pattern."

"How can she disappear? Does this place have a dampening field or something?"

Ali smiled wryly. "I can't give away info about the specifics of this place."

"It's not like I can do anything with it."

"I'm under orders. Even if they didn't hear from your monitor, they'd find out eventually."

"So… they know everything I'm saying."

"Not necessarily. It's all recorded, but they don't usually dig into the dialogue files unless there's a tripwire word. Or if there is suspicious behavior. Right now, they've paused the autoshocks. They don't want to damage you while you're recovering."

"How nice of them."

Ali smiled, a hint of sadness in it. Jason wondered how far he could push his luck. How much he could get out of Ali before his sense of duty overcame his bias toward Jason.

Perhaps he could catch him off-guard… Use my vulnerability to make him think it's innocuous. He doesn't think I'd ever be able to escape anyway….

I could never count on him to escape—couldn't take that much of a risk. There's no way to know for sure what side he'd choose.

Perhaps appeal to his ego in some way.

Lower his ability to think critically…. Cut down his cleverness….

Use the wine without drinking too much myself. A good excuse in case he notices would be the painkiller.

"I can tell you other things," said Ali. "As long as it isn't compromising. Anything that I can do to make your stay less…horrible."

"So… would Elena approve of that?"

"I can get away with some things. She allows leeway for me—because it's useful as an Enforcer. I do have to watch myself… since she knows of my bias. I just can't go overboard."

"Do you know what the line is?"

He shook his head. "But I'm used to working with blurred lines. Sticking to the shadows, I might be able to glide below her radar. When she returns, would you like to know?"

"A heads-up would be nice."

"I'll come down if I have to. Or text you if I can get another phone by then. It's true Elena often likes to appear without advance notice. So it might not be possible."

Jason nodded. "I'll just have to be prepared for that."

"I'll see if I can't plead for Zar to be kept from you when she gets back. I was the one to be with you during your recovery—I know how much it affected you. Of course, she did want you to be upset, but perhaps I can persuade her it was too much." He looked troubled. Fiddled with his bishop without moving him. "Perhaps… I shouldn't tell you this but…. It's not just about breaking you down. There's always a double-edged sword to what Elena does. She's doing multiple things with you at once… One of them is… Zar is pressure—an opposite. She'll want you to see him as the alternative. While she wants you to see her ultimately as an object of affection. Force you into her arms by threatening you with Zar. To do that, she had to show you what he was capable of. Make you feel it."

The room fogged. He huddled back against the couch, Ali and the chess board receding into the distance.

But he couldn't say he was surprised. Considering Elena. It made absolute sense.

It won't work, he told himself.

But he also wondered—if faced with the alternative… what would he choose? In order to avoid such pain….

The corollary was that Elena would probably try to coax him into 'love'—

Panic crept up on him—

But he suppressed it, knowing he'd have to have a clear head, despite everything.

"Sorry," said Ali. "I shouldn't… I don't want to hurt you."

"It's okay," said Jason, leaning forward. "I've got to be stronger than this."

Immense sorrow etched Ali's features. "You are strong. But the strength of one person… even one as strong as you…. I'm afraid for you."

"You will at least be here to pick up the pieces?"

Ali nodded. "You won't shatter on my watch. Everyone breaks one way or another… sometimes the strongest collapse completely, because they're so stubborn and strong-willed…" He laughed mirthlessly. "I did almost love another here once. She was amazing, beautiful—intense and vital, her soul brimming with life and inner power. But she crashed against them—and they crushed her. I…turned away before I could see the final product… an empty slave, no glimmer of light…" He looked at Jason, his head tilted. "I should not have let myself fall for you. But you caught me off-guard. I didn't know you were bound for here at first. I didn't have a chance." He slid his knight into Jason's pawn, knocking it over.

Jason realized Ali could think on two levels at once—he could feel horror yet at the same time, strategize. Jason had to somehow overcome this. I may be able to think strategically, but he's a practiced manipulator in real life….

"You know I could never return that love."

"I'm not Elena. I know pushing like she does actually crushes real love. I can't help but long for what I can never have. While I also want to hold you hand in hand and infuse a double shot of strength into you—help you through this. Guide you through the stormy waters to eventual…. Home. Still… I am limited. I would do anything for you—except sacrifice myself… is that love?" He shook his head. "I'm hopeless."

"I could offer you something."

Ali's eyes widened, his mouth parting. "What?"

"Friendship."

He smiled. "I'll take that. Anything you can give me is more than enough—more than I have right to expect. At the same time… Well. You don't want to hear that."

"You've done so much for me already. You saved me from—" He choked on Zar's name.

"I'm never letting him near you if I can help it. She's got to understand it was enough."

"How did you incapacitate him, by the way?"

Ali held up his cane. "He's got a nice dent in his head." He laughed heartily.

"Why didn't it work to use Zar's hand to get out of the room?

"Was he unconscious?"

Jason nodded.

"The sensors know if he's not conscious."

"What about if he's being forced?"

"They might not know that. If he gets you in a room next time—if you can—get him under your control. He's a coward who only attacks those who can't fight back. Or takes them by surprise. I know it's not always possible, because he tries to ensure his 'supremacy', but it would be wonderful if you could teach him a lesson…. It was fantastic to see him collapse, but for you to show him what real strength is—I'd pay money to see that. in fact watching you beat me down was quite marvelous."

"Really?"

"I'm no fan of pain—but your beautiful self beating me down… an exception. And that kiss… I could've died then."

"I shot you."

Ali shrugged. "I beat you up. Believe me, I took no pleasure in that. It's your glory I like watching, not your agony. It was my job…." He looked away, then hunched down, absorbed in the game.

The last few moves came swiftly; Ali, despite being rather distracted, swept forward and surrounded Jason's queen before he knew what was going on, and then took over his kingdom with an air of casual grace.

"Good game," said Jason.

"You gave me a run for my money. Truly. You're recovering well—I didn't take it easy on you."

"You could've won earlier."

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"You have years more experience."

"With more practice…perhaps you'll eventually win. I only wish I could play with you on equal terms… it's not exactly fair for you in here. I can try to mitigate the power imbalance, but it's still there…. With the wounds, the pressure, you can't be at your best. And it will be some time before…" He stood, using his cane. "At least at my place we can kind of pretend that your invisible chains are not even there…." He shuffled over to the kitchen and drew a bottle out of the fridge, filled with rich red wine. "Let's celebrate. My win—your recovery."

"Will they take me back by force?"

"I'm not sure. In the meantime, we can have some fun."

It fit with his rough strategy… if you could call it that. Perhaps too uneven for Ali to notice….

Ali slid the chess game away and poured them both a glass. Then he showed Jason the label. "This is a special vintage." He tapped the bottle. "Elena's father was able to take some wine as spoils when the king was killed. It was one of the few things she was able to keep hidden and come back to after she escaped. Brought it here when she began to build her empire."

"It's tainted with blood."

"You're reclaiming it. Strictly speaking, this is her own stash. We're not supposed to use it. But I have my ways…. So, in essence, we've stolen this from her."

Jason nodded slowly, not sure if he agreed. But he took a sip, half expecting it to have a tang of blood. But it was gorgeous, rich, deep, glimmering with nuances that sank into him and filled him with a pleasant warmth.

"Isn't it lovely?" said Ali, raising his glass.

Jason clinked his glass against Ali's, and Ali's eyes sparkled, reflecting the wine.

Ali grabbed some snacks and carried them, almost overflowing, to the coffee table. Knocking over some of the chess pieces where they landed, scattering.

"I could've helped," said Jason.

"No, no—you don't need to do anything. What would you like?"

Jason grabbed a bag of mushroom chips, this one spicy, and it was wonderful, unexpectedly pairing well with the wine. He gobbled them up, as if the chess game had taken energy! And then tried some crispy snacks shaped like fries, which Ali said were good dipped in cheese. It tanged across his tongue, delicious, and he dove into the rest of the snacks, leaving none unopened.

"Looks like your appetite's returned," said Ali, an amused look on his face.

"Sorry," said Jason, munching on a crunchy fry.

"Take all you want. You need to keep up your strength."

"Junk food isn't usually the best for that."

"You need to experience things you enjoy. That'll help you as much as anything."

There was something inside him that craved good things. He had so little opportunity in this place, and when immersed in pain, he didn't have the capacity to enjoy much. But now—

Ask more innocuous questions…. Drink without going overboard…. While also getting him to the point he can't think on more than one level… I'd guess he's pretty tolerant, so it may take some time.

Too bad I just can't have fun but…. Can't truly do that until I'm out of here.

"So," said Jason, "How does the overall system work?"

"What do you mean?" Ali took a sip of wine.

"Well, you mentioned Elena orchestrates everthing. How much does she micromanage?"

"She mainly creates the system and lets it run itself. She only involves herself if some cogs get rusty or get sand in their gears. The system is a brilliant thing, I must say. It works with psychology. Punishment and reward. That's what human beings are—entities that respond to basic stimuli. We're more complex than your average organism, so she tailors the program to each person. She learns that person's strengths and weaknesses and targets them accordingly. Doesn't matter if I know how she's trapped me—she knows I love freedom, that I like a certain level of luxury…. Just the threat of taking them away is enough to rein me in. For most Admins, the punishment is usually relatively mild. It's harsher for the guards. And the slaves…well. There are almost no limits. And of course, there are fewer rewards. Slaves are rewards for the Admins and sometimes the guards. Those who want that, anyway."

"Why do so many of the Admins want slaves?"

"It's really not that many, comparably. Those are just the Admins you usually see. They're mostly the Admins for human trafficking—they gravitate toward slavery in the first place. For some, it's harder to stomach the job if they have any qualms about human trafficking."

"Not you, though."

"I'm able to divorce my personal life from my professional life."

Rage spread through him—he was reminded how evil Ali really was. Facilitating the selling of children. Young women like Nika and Ana. He couldn't face that—couldn't stomach the manipulation he was intending.

And yet… Ali had saved him… it was hard to reconcile the brutal Enforcer with the man who had been so kind and understanding the past few days.

"I probably am sort of a psychopath," said Ali. "I'm able to turn my feelings off and on at will. But now—I might not be able to do the job I was doing, even though it wasn't directly kidnapping children. It's a good thing I'm off human trafficking detail—perhaps I won't go back. For your sake."

Jason looked at him, still hating the idea of this man longing for him. But you couldn't help who you loved. Just because he was a man it was distasteful. If it were a woman, he'd feel flattered. He'd never give them any hint of affection of course, especially now that he was spoken for.

"That would be the best gift you could give me," said Jason. "Never be involved in human trafficking again. I don't know how anyone decent could stand it."

"Who said I was decent." Ali smiled wryly. "But then… you make me want to be a better version of myself. I'm intrigued to meet this new version of me. Might be dangerous to be him—but I thrive on the edge. And that way, I'll feel closer to you." He tilted the wine glass, swallowing the remnants.

Jason sipped his second glass, intending not to go further than this one. "You don't have any zyx, do you?"

"Why, you want some?"

"Might help me feel better. Be a distraction. "

Ali shook his head. "Not advisable with your other meds. If Elena allows it, perhaps we can have parties together later. I could give you some relief… some space…."

"I'll feel guilty leaving the others."

"But why suffer if you don't have to? At least one person won't be suffering. It'll give you strength, though perhaps prolong the process. More likely, keep you from shattering, like…Vanessa did. And keep you safe from attacks from anyone else. Zar would never have access here. He can't get into private quarters."

"Where does Zar come from, anyway? Why does he come here?"

"All I can say is that he's the son of Elena's partner on the outside."

"Why does she need a partner? It seems like she wouldn't want to share power."

"It's out of necessity. She needs a liaison in order to… get the things she needs. So we have to tolerate Zar's presence. He jeopardizes the operation—so I'd think Zavier would rein him in, too. But he's spoiled his son and so he lets him do anything he wants."

"Zar said something about… being restricted now that he's twenty-seven."

"Good. I'm always on edge when he's here—and not in a good way."

"How many kids does Zavier have?"

"Six, I think. Some of them pretty young—by his second marriage. None of them are the whack jobs Zar is. Perhaps he felt that he'd made a mistake with his firstborn, giving him such leeway. Now he thinks he can salvage Golden Boy. It's a good thing his other children aren't such loose cannons, or we might be in danger of being exposed."

"Do the other kids know?"

"I don't think so, beyond Zavier's wife, and his firstborn daughter, whose name also escapes me. His other kids are too young, anyway."

"What do they both get out of the partnership?"

"Zavier gets a generous cut, of course, and Elena gets protection."

"Protection?"

"Yes, well—she needs a significant cover. You've probably noticed we don't live in a conventional space. The powers that be would notice the massive energy drain if we didn't have a separate grid of our own. We're cradled in secrecy. But that all collapses if Zavier disappears…. So we have to stay on his good side. Sometimes do distasteful things. It's a good thing he's mostly understanding, though; the balance is kept, never tilting too far one way or the other."

"That seems a precarious way to live."

"Perhaps someday it'll come crashing down on our heads… but we have fail-safes."

"What kind?"

Ali made a zipping motion over his mouth. Looking down, he fiddled with the chess pieces.

That probably was too open an attack… I've got to be sneakier…

It's not as natural being a spy when you're in a completely vulnerable position… need to use what advantages I have…

Need to get him distracted…

"Maybe we should play a game," said Jason. "Something besides chess—I don't think I have a mind for any more today."

"How about Monopoly?"

"I feel more like a video game."

"Oh—sure!" He scrolled through the games on his system.

It hit Jason he should focus on a game that exploited his vulnerabilities. He picked a fantasy warrior game; the preview had shown a glimpse of the hero in a dungeon.

"That's a good one," said Ali. "It's inspired by our history. The glory days, where heroes roamed the hills and castles defended the righteous." He laughed.

They both headed separately on a quest, some of the items held in common; some of the items would only make sense when they reached each other. Vicious NPCs fought them at every turn. The heroes were powerful alone, but once together, they could more than double their strength—which was better before the first main battle, Ali explained.

Meanwhile, Ali drank a third glass of wine. His faculties were barely slowing. Just tripping up a few times, mixing up a few first consonants. He played fiercely, intently, as if his life really did hang in the balance, although there was also a constant half-smile on his face.

It was all Jason could do to keep up. He was the one who couldn't think on another level. Playing, he found how dull his mind really was. He was usually a natural at these kinds of games.

I'm fostering camaraderie, he reminded himself, his second wine-glass still half full.

Jason managed to get to the enemy castle before Ali did. He collected several items while fighting guards. It was fun bouncing off walls, climbing stairs with his superpower boosts.

But the fun ended when a trap slammed down onto him. He hadn't seen it coming.

His heart thumped hard. Flickers of the past licked at his mind.

The guards dragged him to the dungeon and began to beat him.

He shut his eyes as the cutscene played, but he couldn't shut out the realistic thuds of flesh on flesh. The jeering of the guards.

A bit too realistic…

The sounds stopped.

He opened his eyes.

Ali had paused the game.

"I'm sorry. I haven't played this far yet. It's…." Ali shook his head. "I suppose you'd like to stop playing."

"Maybe…."

"I could rescue you though. I'm almost there."

Jason nodded and watched as Ali cut his way through the guards, sacrificing a lot of his powerboosts, then reaching him and slaughtering the guards who had beaten Jason's player. He then opened the cell with a key taken from a dead guard, and helped him out, Jason's fighter leaning on his shoulder, face swollen.

When they were out, Ali applied a magical cream to his face and other wounds, and the blood and cuts disappeared as if they'd never been. They clasped hands and ran off to the next level— desolate hilltops.

Jason had to admit, he was a bit exhausted, and he didn't have to feign fatigue.

Ali saved the game, and they settled back to watch a movie. It was a romantic adventure comedy, with a rather cartoonish villain who looked vaguely like Zar. Jason tried to suppress his uneasiness. At the midpoint, the villain captured the heroine and threatened her salaciously.

Jason turned away, his heart pounding. Hands squirming over his skin. That overwhelming feeling of being nothing but a disposable object swept over him, making everything narrow and fade.

He cried out as teeth cut him open and he pulled away, trying to escape

A cool surface against his back.

He jerked away from it only to slam into something else hard. Pain slashed through his ribs. He sank down, grasping for something—held a cool, bar-like thing above him—

The floor hit his knees.

He leaned his head against a smooth surface, clutching his stomach, trying to recover enough to flee this place.

"Jason," said a voice.

Familiar.

A hand reached for his.

Jason drew away.

Ali crouched beside him. "It's alright. You're safe."

The words poured through him, peeling the past away, and he struggled toward the present.

"What do you need?" said Ali, brown eyes earnest, concerned.

Jason shook his head. "I'm fine. Just—" It came back to him what had caused the panic attack and shame filled him. "That silly movie shouldn't have gotten to me."

"It's not silly. I mean—yes, the movie is. But it makes sense. Triggers can pop up anywhere. I didn't remember that part."

Jason laughed halfheartedly. "I can't even watch movies. Just because of—him. I don't want him to affect me at all but he took something from me and I shouldn't let it, shouldn't be that weak, maybe I deserve this for being so… crushed by a mild assault."

Ali reached out for him, then drew away and knelt. "It wasn't mild. You're forgetting you also have a history—you've been hurt before. That can't help. And what Zar does—forcing people totally at his mercy—it's even worse. So what if it wasn't rape. It still hurt you deeply. Such a vile being should never have touched you—but that's what this place is. True beauty is sullied by the decadent…. I would not have your light suppressed. Zar…. Elena… if only I could tear you away from them—"

Jason attempted to stand, but his legs shook and his arm couldn't quite support him as he grasped the edge of the island.

Ali reached out and Jason hesitated, then took his hand. Jason held onto the counter as well and Ali helped pull him to his feet. Then Ali quickly let go.

Keep forging forward, Jason reminded himself. "Are you sure you can't get any zyx? I think I need something stronger. So I can actually have fun. Get away from—this."

Ali's eyes flickered. Then he reached in the cupboard and drew out a little green ceramic pot. He cradled it in his hand, then drew out a small plastic bag. The zyx shimmered in the light, glimmering in Ali's eyes as he held it between them.

"Strictly speaking, I'm not supposed to have a stash of my own. But as an Enforcer, I can get away with things. Dart between sections, snatch up little items no one would miss. I know myself enough not to keep too much…. It can interact with my meds, too. Just a little shouldn't hurt, though."

He whirled over to the coffee table and sprinkled some in his glass. Then he filled Jason's glass with more wine, took another pinch of zyx, and let it drop into the wine. He held it up to the light and spun it, then set the glass down "Do you need any help getting over here?"

"I think I can manage." He supported himself with the island, and then forced himself to walk without faltering over to the couch. Some residual horror still clung to him, since the movie was paused at the moment the villain leered at the heroine.

Ali shut it off, looking at Jason with immense sympathy. "Would you like another movie or…?"

"Any more documentaries?"

"I know just the thing." He dimmed the lights then turned on one about Muldavian castles.

Jason sipped the wine, the zyx spreading a bitter tang across his tongue. He pulled back, trying not to show revulsion. He didn't actually want to be compromised, and horror hit him when he recalled how zyx had sometimes been used to make a victim more compliant.

Scenes of rolling, barren hills ran across the screen. Over white-capped mountains, then back down again, showing the native mountain ponies running below, splashes of varied browns, whites, blacks, grays, and golds. Then swiftly down into the valley only to turn around and face the grand castle, shining silvery against a white cliff. Birds whirled in front of it, some of them settling on the ramparts. The voiceover described it as the most intact castle in the country. After all, Muldavia had been riven by war after war, but somehow, it had stayed standing. Like its valiant symbols, reaching for the sky.

Jason became absorbed in the history, the room fading. His body felt weighed down; he didn't want to do anything but forget. And this was wonderful—to not think or feel anything to do with the night that should never have been.

Ali was staring, rapt, at the screen, legs folded.

Jason drank the rest, wanting to dull some more—keep the flashes of horror behind a veil of fog. Just faded ghosts, nothing more potent.

"This is really good," said Jason. "Where did you get it?"

"Drug wing," said Ali. He glanced at Jason. "We do have superior grade here."

"Could I have some more?"

"You sure?"

Jason nodded, hoping Ali would follow suit. He wanted him a bit more incapacitated….

Ali added zyx to Jason's empty glass then poured more wine into it. To Jason's relief, he did it with his glass as well, adding even more of the drug.

The screen showed a few more castles then a familiar one.

"I know that castle!" said Jason.

"Really? Oh, yes, you visited Valhad. It is an amazing castle. In fact—" He closed his eyes and huddled down, grasping his knees.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he said, giving Jason a quick smile.

Elliot had mentioned they were near Valhad. Could it be possible…? Perhaps near the castle… perhaps underground somewhere….

The important things I need to know are— is there a failsafe for monitors. Ways to escape. Ways to get to weapons and drugs.

He already said he can get from one section to another… he can access weapons and drug areas… perhaps he can get something small for me no one would notice…

"Hey," said Jason. "Is there a way to stop the autoshocks?"

"What?" Ali had seemed absorbed in his own thoughts.

"I won't be able to stop him if he uses them."

Ali nodded, troubled. "It is an unjust thing. But he didn't use the autoshocks this time."

"That doesn't mean he couldn't."

"I don't know if there's anything I can do. I'm not part of that division, and the autoshocks are an integral part of the System. The fail-safe to keep you under control. They won't just turn them off for you."

"Is there a way to short them out or something? I don't want to be at their mercy."

"Not that I know of. They have their own fail-safe. If anyone tries to cut them out, they release a drug that knocks out both the one operated on and the one operating. Unless they're shut down by an Admin."

"What about shockrods?"

"For what?"

"To short out the monitors."

"I don't know. It would have to be on a pretty high setting. That could be dangerous, next to the spine."

"I suppose I'll have to just rely on chance next time."

"I'll do everything I can to stop that from happening."

Jason leaned forward. "What will you do?"

"As an Admin, I have the authority to cut off some of Zar's privileges. Not his access to slaves, but his access to shockrods… even his access to the autoshocks."

"You could do that?"

"Technically, Zar isn't under my jurisdiction, but I'm nothing if not sneaky."

"Thank you."

"I'll try to stay on alert to track when he's here. And I'll get you that phone by the time he's back."

"That would be wonderful."

"He wasn't even supposed to have a shockrod yet. The worst part of what he did shouldn't have even been available to him." His eyes flashed.

Darkness spread across his vision. He noticed the pain was starting to burn again… reminding him violently of the horrifying moment of sheer agony—

He reeled toward his wine glass on the table and poured some of it down his throat before he realized what he was doing.

Ali's eyes shimmered with reflected pain.

The bitter taste was a welcome distraction this time, and he sank into a warm embrace of gentle mist. The pain dulled, and the memories with it.

He felt a vague panic that his mind had been dulled as well… but the alarm was muffled, and he doused it completely by drinking the rest of the wine.

Ali looked at him, concerned. "Maybe that was a bit too much…."

"I don't want to feel."

"Perhaps you'd better not have your second dose of painkiller today… I don't want to risk you getting sick. You will of course need your antibiotics. I'll give you another restorative in the morning. I want all your wounds well on their way to healing by—" He looked away sadly.

"Is there a way to get to more of it? In case he does get to me, and I want to avoid these feelings."

"Well… maybe I could get you some."

"What about a way to protect myself? If you can't get to me in time?" Resentment, not all feigned, poured through his voice.

"Well… maybe I could procure a small item… but if they find me out—a weapon's harder to explain away than drugs."

"You'd pretend it's for yourself."

Ali grabbed for his cane. "There is a hollow compartment in this." He unscrewed the hawk handle. Showed Jason the inside. "If they find out you used the weapon, though…"

"They won't know how I got it."

"You're forgetting they can go back into the voice records. They'll excavate this entire conversation."

"Do you want me to get attacked by that—" There was no word vile enough for the one he didn't even want to name.

"Perhaps I could neutralize your monitor now…"

"You could do that?"

"Erase this conversation and make it look like a glitch. Now I'll have to." He laughed nervously. Dove into his laptop and after typing furiously, emerged with a grin. "Got it."

"Wow."

"I am amazing." The grin grew wider.

"So… we can speak freely?"

Ali nodded.

He can do more than he says he can…. Perhaps Ali is the key. He almost laughed but realized he'd have to keep his real feelings suppressed. Steer himself toward his purpose, even though now it was as hard as steering when your car stalled.

"What about the autoshock?" Jason asked.

"It wasn't on to begin with, since Sunday."

"Could you… turn it off? Like, permanently."

"They'd find out."

"Just until Zar comes back then. I'll try to lie low, not provoke them. I don't want to be defenseless."

"I suppose…."

"Thank you." He leaned forward, making gratefulness surge through his posture.

Ali glanced at him and then sank back into his rapid hacking. Jason felt a slight click in the back of his neck.

Relief flooded him.

It was still on for the others, but perhaps with his turned off, he could find a way. He might have to do the operation… if it were possible… with Kara and Zakhar guiding him…

A rough plan flashed through his mind. Zar was the weak link. If I could get to him… get him to take me out of here….

Abhorrence raged through him at just the thought of seeing Zar again.

But if we could—make sure to incapacitate him before he gets to me—but not so much that he is unconscious… threaten him….

Thrills raced through him. Partly at the prospect of crushing Zar.

The prospect of the purity of violence surged exhilaration through him.

Not the tainted twistedness of… what he was doing to me…

To take control again! To be myself! A man of action!

I cannot be otherwise.

I have to escape—or die trying.

No more dithering or passivity. Be clever and somewhat careful… but always move forward, always go toward escape, don't let them grind me down. Even if they do shocking things to me. Don't let it affect me. Shut down the horror. Dull it with zyx if I have to. Although that will slow my reflexes….

I'll just have to do it manually then.

He shook with excitement at rediscovering the life outside. Not this slow agonizing death of self. He'd be a zombie if they got what they wanted from him.

I would rather die fighting. Die free.

"There," said Ali. "I didn't like the thought of you bound by that anyway. You're not meant to be caged…." He gazed at Jason with relentless admiration, tinged with yearning.

An urge hit him to ask Ali to help him escape, but a remnant of his mind told him to suppress this desire.

He probably had enough to go on… His mind was spinning from the absence of the monitor. Perhaps he could have Kara or Zakhar take it out while it was shut down… but it would hurt them….

Jarl appeared and began making supper. Ali led Jason around the living room and showed him his collection. Jason just tagged along, his only task now to catch any more clues. He'd done enough for the amount of zyx and alcohol in his system. Now he just had to relax… rest…. Give Ali a reward for risking himself…

Can he really love me that much? It isn't a selfish love then… good thing, because I can't give him what he wants. He won't even take it…. In this place, such a rare thing…. This upside down world….

They moved on to Ali's next bookshelf, on which, scattered among the books, were some finely carved jeweled rings. Ali slid them onto his fingers, the jewels flashing in the light.

Jason's stomach turned over; he backed away.

"I'm so sorry!" said Ali. "I completely forgot. You can't even enjoy beautiful things anymore…" Sorrow suffused his face. "He's already ruined so much for you. I'm glad I took the monitor offline—it's really the least I can do. You deserve all good things. In fact—if you see anything here you like—it's yours."

"Thank you. I… I'm not sure."

"Not these, of course." He withdrew the rings from his fingers and set them reverently back on the shelf.

They moved to the final shelf. Here were a bunch of rocks, rough-cut gemstones, crystals, tigers' eyes. "I have to admit, I do love rocks," said Ali. Among them was a statuette, a golden warrior holding a sword. "I got him in Greece," said Ali. "One of my favorites. Though I suppose he's too gold for you—"

"I'm not going to let—him take good things from me."

"That's the spirit!" Ali reached out, then drew back his hand, looking at it disparagingly as if it had launched out of its own accord.

Ali picked up the statuette and lifted the sword from the soldier's hands. "Actually, it's a fancy letter opener." He slashed the sword around, creating a glittery shimmer in its wake.

"Could I have it?"

"This?"

"Yeah."

"Just the sword-? Oh, I get it. Best for both of us—won't be missed from inventory." He laid the sword in Jason's hands.

The sword was small, but it was better than nothing. And he could easily hide it. Even explain it as a letter opener. Though he got no letters here… He almost laughed.

Grasping its hilt, he brandished it.

Such a small thing. But enough to threaten Zar with—

"Thank you." He cradled it in his hands.

"Don't mention it."

You really are a treasure trove… I don't want to lose this source… perhaps I can get more out of him… have more zyx parties...

With Jarl's permission, Ali showed Jarl's bedroom. It was small and spare. "Used to be just a closet," said Ali. "In fact, it used to be smaller."

"What do you mean?"

"I pushed it outward. You can manipulate rooms here. Change them according to your requirements."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I figured he'd need more room. This is as far as I could get it, though. In fact—" He looked at Jason, suddenly wary.

"What is it?"

"Maybe I shouldn't…."

Jason laid his hand on Ali's arm. "You don't have to. You've already given me so much."

Ali's eyes widened, and he froze under Jason's touch. "Well—I suppose…. It wouldn't hurt." He motioned to Jason and opened the closet door at the far corner of the room.

Inside was—nothing. Darkness. Cool air breathed up from a long shaft. "Careful," said Ali. "Don't step any further."

"What is this?"

"I think it's just unfinished. They forgot to put an elevator here. Or else it's part of the old structure they forgot…. It's sort of like living in a video game, where the walls just give way to vacancy… like this place is built on nothing…" He laughed. Shot his arm out into the darkness. "It is exhilarating, isn't it. If I wanted, I could just step forward—" He leaned his leg out.

Jason grasped his arm. "Don't." He wasn't entirely sure Ali wouldn't.

Ali laughed. "Don't worry. I'm not that out of it." He looked down at Jason's hand on his arm. Slowly he stepped back; Jason released him.

Ali's eyes slithered over him, desperation filling them. He crept closer, reaching out, his cheeks flushed.

Jason backed away. His thighs slammed into the bed and he fell backwards onto it.

Ali reached out and cradled Jason's jaw in his palm. Rubbed his cheek with his thumb. "So beautiful…." He slid his hand into Jason's hair.

Terror raced through him. He couldn't move.

Zar's face superimposed on Ali's, and he was helpless. All of this a fruitless façade. They were all always coming for him, bound to crush him….

"Ohh," said Ali. "This is your dream too." He sat down beside Jason. Caressed his face, turning it toward him, thumb pressing to his lips. Gently, he held the back of Jason's head and leaned in, his hand trembling—

Lightning blazed through Jason's mind.

No.

Never again.

He ripped the sword from his pocket and jabbed it into Ali's jaw. His other hand seized his throat. He stood, pressing harder into his Adam's apple, slamming Ali back on the bed.

Blood trickled from Ali's jaw. Fear and—regret burned in his eyes. "Go ahead," said Ali. A tear trickled down his temple. "That was—inexcusable. I thought I was sure but it was just my mind—playing tricks on me—" He closed his eyes.

Jason withdrew the knife.

We both got a little carried away…. He stepped over to the wall, looking out the fake window onto a thrashing sea. He could almost feel the spray… He longed to plunge into another world.

The bed creaked, and he looked back, his heart jumping despite himself. Ali leaned his head in his hands. "I never wanted to hurt you. After trying to help…. That's all erased now. You'll never trust me and you'd be right, because perhaps I can't be trusted around you, even when I'm sober. And you needed a refuge and I took that away from you… I won't be able to forgive myself. I'd totally understand if you… wanted nothing to do with me. In fact, if you would like to hurt me, I'll be your proxy for Zar. It turned out I'm just like him."

"He'd never apologize." Jason stepped forward. He still held the knife. "But you're right, I can't trust you. You're one of them and you always will be." He turned from him and walked toward the door.

"Don't leave!"

Jason whirled on him, anger slicing through him. "You think you could keep me here after this?"

"You can stay in the living room and I'll shut myself away. Just—don't leave."

Disgust filled him. Ali was actually kneeling, groveling.

"I don't want anything to do with you. This whole suite is just as tainted as Elena's."

"If you go, you won't be safe."

"I'm not safe here."

Ali hung his head. "Just… When you go back, they're going to start to be harder on you. I think Zar was part of it. Here at least you can delay—"

"Open the door."

Ali scrambled to his feet. Stepped over carefully, not looking at Jason. He pressed his hand to the door and it opened.

"At least take some of Jarl's food."

"He's one of you, too." Jason stepped out the door, feeling freer without the autoshock looming over him.

He floated down the hallway, euphoria gripping him. Everything was good and right now that he was out of that sick chamber.

He headed into the elevator and it took him down, down, away from being anyone's possession.

The lights were dimmed and the hallways were vacant, free of any clawing eyes or creeping hands. He walked into his room and collapsed on the bed, soaring to heights of peaceful oblivion.