by SA Payne
You both do, you should exercise them. How long has it been since you've had a real man in
your bed?" Arnie stepped forward again and Ichi couldn't swear to it but he thought the man's
hand was again on Rye, and not on some place as innocent as the side of his ribs. "I can do
things to you that the cold, stuck up prig wouldn't ever even dream of."
The words were whispered but they twisted Ichi's heart. There was truth in them and the mocking
of his own fears and he wanted to break from the stall and run. He stayed put because he was
more embarrassed to be discovered than to be humiliated behind his back.
Rye didn't answer, not at first. The touch was teasing, promising and his body reacted. It felt
good and that initial rush of pleasure forced his eyes to flutter shut. It was biological and took a moment to adapt to, to gain some control over. When the shock of that bold contact faded a bit,
he caught the other man's wrist.
It took no thought or effort to spin the arm in his grip, twisting Arnie's too bold hand away. Rye
kicked lightly and caught the back of the man's leg, dropping him to his knees, arm twisted away
at a painful angle. Rye leaned forward, anger burning away unwanted desire.
"Don't touch me, and never speak of Ichi like that again! In or out of bed, that man makes you look like an ugly, unschooled worm. After him, no one else can ever compare, do I make myself
clear?"
Arnie didn't answer right away, he was breathing a little harder and Rye wasn't sure it wasn't
partly from desire.
He twisted the arm further, taking it from merely restrained to actually painful. "Do you
understand?"
"Yes." Arnie hissed.
"Do you understand that you're nothing next to him?" Rye twisted a bit more.
"Gods, yes, just don't break it!" Arnie begged.
Rye considered it, figured Ichi would be mad at him and dropped the man's arm. "I've had too
much to drink, I'm leaving. This Bents fellow would be lucky to have Ichi, lucky." He shook his head and wandered from the bathroom, leaving Arnie on the bathroom floor rubbing his sore
wrist.
Ichi stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest and oddly turned on. He was afraid to breath for fear of discovery. When he heard footsteps and whistling in the bathroom he peeked out again.
It was Bents. "Shot down too, huh?" He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.
"I slipped."
"Yeah, right." He grinned a little and moved to help his friend up. "Saw him leaving, warned you he couldn't be pushed."
"I slipped!"
"Of course you did dear, let me buy you a drink." Bents draped an arm around the other man and lead him away.
Ichi waited, counting to fifty, before he slipped from the stall and carefully from the bathroom. He was pretty sure no one had seen him in there and he slid around the edge of the crowd quickly.
All he wanted was to get away from the music and laughter and people, to return to the quiet of
his room and maybe find Rye there.
"Hey." Rye called from almost directly behind Ichi, making the Asian man start a little in fright.
"Sorry."
"Sneak, didn't hear you there."
"I'm leaving, going back to the rooms. Enjoy yourself, okay?" Rye tossed out and turned to leave.
Ichi reached out and caught the red head's arm. "That sounds perfect, let's go home."
Rye paused and studied Ichi's face. "You sure you don't want to stay?"
"If you go, there's nothing I want here. I'm sure."
That broke a shy, heartbreakingly warm smile across Rye's lips. He leaned in and whispered
right into Ichi's ear. "If I knew it wouldn't make you angry, I'd kiss you right here in front of everyone."
The heat and desire and love in that whisper washed across Ichi and made him feel as if Rye
had dragged him up onto the stage and kissed him silly. He was blushing as he followed Rye the
rest of the way through the crowd to escape back to their rooms.
Chapter Twenty Nine:
Rye leaned back from the highly illegal retinal scanner that Jake and his group had produced
and blinked to clear his vision. Will and Amanda had gone to the med lab to start setting up for
the required physicals but Ichi was with him, sitting quietly to the side as always. They'd been
invited to get Rye's new identity that afternoon and Ichi hadn't wanted to wait.
"Have you thought about what name you wanted to use?" Ryan leaned back in his seat and
asked. Any one of them could have done the ident insert alone but it had turned into a group
project.
"No, I haven't."
"We can just use Rye Sullivan if you want?"
They were using his real retinal scans which meant anyone at Lerman looking for him would have little difficulty tracking him down. The name used made little difference. "I'd like that."
"Rye Sullivan it is then."
Coding visors and gloves were pulled on and the group tossed half sentences back and forth as
the identity was slipped into the official databases with frightful ease. Less then a half hour
passed before all but Jake logged out and it was another moment before he pulled his own visor
off as well.
"All finished." He slid a data card across the desk. "We took some liberties making up a loose history for you but it'll hold up."
"Thanks." Rye slid the card into his palm.
"Frightful how easy you made that look. To think you can delete an identity as easily, that
someone can do that." Ichi shook his head.
"Not easy." Jess grinned. "We're just good and it's way easier to put something into the banks than to remove it. If you slip it into the central listing files, it'll propagate outward from there but to delete someone you have to hunt them down in like a thousand systems. Not saying it can't be
done, just a total pain."
"Still frightful, thanks again, we'll get out of your hair." Ichi stood up and Rye followed but he stopped when Rye froze.
Rye smiled softly. "I'm sorry, Ichi." He spoke just as gently.
"Sorry?"
There was no further warning. Rye reached under the loose hem of his shirt and from his
waistband removed a small, nearly palm sized weapon. He thumbed a switch and it hummed up
to full charge and waited. Ichi didn't know the small weapon, made with mis-matched bits of
metal and hard plastics, but he'd recently learned first hand what a mag gun sounded like.
Rye aimed the gun steadily at Jake. "I'll have those files from Lerman now."
"What're you doing?" Ichi snapped out.
Jess and Ryan exchanged a look and Ichi saw the subtle way the Ryan glanced to Narin and
that's when Ichi noticed it too. Narin, who was nearly telepathic with Jake, wasn't the slightest bit upset. Admittedly, the pale man was rather sedate and steady but there was nothing in his face
or posture to suggest concern.
"Sit down, Ichi." Rye spoke calmly, his eyes or aim never leaving Jake. "The files, please."
"Not going to happen, son." Jake answered smoothly.
Rye shook his head slightly. "It's not my wish to hurt you or your people but I must have those files."
"I'm not afraid to die and killing me won't encourage them to help you. They won't do a thing
without my order."
It wasn't an idle threat, Rye didn't doubt his people's loyalty. "It's easy to be bold with your own life." The gun swung now and pointed easily at Narin's head. "Will you sit and watch me kill your friends?"
That made Ryan shift a bit in his seat. Narin raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." The alien's split lip made the word softer, almost mocking in tone.
"I have n
o doubt you're capable of killing all of us, including Ichi. I've known a lot of folks like you, people without remorse or guilt. Go ahead, kill us, but if you do, you'll be throwing away
everything you've found. Avalon's protection, your friends, your lover, are you prepared to toss
so much away?"
Rye didn't even blink. "I'm prepared to face the results of my actions, don't think for a moment I'm not. The files, my tolerance for waiting is ending."
The tension in the room raised up, Ichi heard his blood pounding in his ears. He was feeling faint
but was afraid to breath or think. Rye looked like cold, clear death and Jake looked ready to
laugh in his face.
"You're not going to shoot anyone today, Rye."
"Don't be so certain."
"Oh, I am, because while I'm certain you can kill us, I don't believe you want to or will for one.
For another, the man you're so willing to kill is the best programmer we have and the only one of
us able to promise that stealing those files will go undetected. You're too smart to kill your best chance at success. More importantly," Jake carefully stood up. "You're smart enough to know all
of this already, so put the gun down before you give your boyfriend a heart attack. You've made your point, we have the nice happy excuse now." A half smirk danced across Jake's face but his eyes were bright with amusement. "I'm sufficiently convinced you need these files."
Rye stood for a moment more, frozen, before a smile darted across his face. "What gave it
away? Or am I really so transparent?" He flicked a switch and the gun hummed down, loosing it's charge before Rye spun it around and handed it off to Jake.
Jake let the breath he'd been holding out, he hadn't even known he wasn't breathing. "No, you're too convincing. The gun, it's good but the side latch always scuffs up. Yours is clean, not a
scratch."
"What?" Jess asked, breathing again.
"It's a fake." Jake found a seam and pulled, the barely held together forgery broke and fell into a half dozen parts, showing the only thing inside was a small device to mimic the sound of a
weapon charging.
"You risked Narin's life, all our lives, on a guess?" Ryan stood up.
Jake shrugged.
"Fuck me, I need a drink!" Ryan exploded and went to rummage into a drawer to find a bottle.
"A fake?" Ichi asked, slow to understand. "What?"
Rye held back. "You'll help me?"
Jake sighed and glanced to his crew, Narin as placid as always, Jess looking wide eyed and in
shock and Ryan pouring out drinks for everyone. "We'll get those files, don't you worry. I think we all could use that drink, Ryan." Jake knew he could, his hands were still trembling and none of them would be up to tackling Lerman anytime in the short term.
"A fake?" Ichi asked from where he still sat, light headed and sick.
Rye knelt down and pressed a glass into the shocked man's hand. "Yes, I'm sorry."
"I don't understand."
"Rye was doing us a favor." Jake downed his drink in a quick swallow and didn't even flinch at the sharp burn it caused.
"What?" Ichi was starting to wonder if he'd had a bump to the head because no one was making any sense.
"Now, if we get caught, we can claim he held a gun to our heads and made us."
Rye soothed a hand over Ichi's knee. "It allows me to take full responsibility if the worst happens.
They're innocent because I made them, it will be done from force not favor."
It was a bit more to it then that, a secondary understanding between Jake and Rye neither man
needed to speak of. Rye had just proven that he was willing to risk anything, give up anything, to
find out what he had been, who he had been, no matter how horrible the truth was. That was
what Jake had needed to agree because ignorance was often the last shelter to a horrible past.
Ichi slammed back his drink. "You're all crazy, Avalon folk are all insane."
That made Ryan chuckle. "Can't debate that." But the words were tense and uneasy still.
Chapter Thirty
“I still don’t know how you talked Jake into this.” Will pried again. It had been the running nag
since he’d been told that Jake and his programmers were hunting down Lerman’s files. No one
was talking about what had happened and days had gone by with Will still left to wonder. He
knew Jake was virtually as stubborn as any soul alive and unmovable if he didn’t wish it.
“It doesn’t matter.” Amanda accepted the mugs Will had carried over, setting one in front of
where Rye sat. Four days had passed with Rye growing more and more uneasy and Ichi
retreating further into silence, the least of their concerns should have been how Jake had been
convinced. “It’s done now.”
Jake had called them an hour ago and spoken privately to Rye. It had been Rye that had requested that only his family be there when he found out just what and who he was. As soon as
Will and Amanda had canceled the rest of the day’s exams and returned home, Rye had stopped
pacing. He’d sat down, rubbed idly at the soft fabric covering his knee and fixed his eyes to a
spot a couple of feet in front of him. Even Ichi sitting to one side of him and Amanda the other
did nothing to stir him.
Jake finally arrived, Narin following, but not the other two. He looked stubborn, but his face was
unreadable. Greetings were exchanged quickly, offers of tea were made and refused before
Narin settled in to a chair near the one Will had taken and Jake had pulled a seat over to sit
closer to where Rye still hadn’t looked up.
“It’s okay to have changed your mind,” Jake said gently, eyes not leaving the redhead.
Rye swallowed hard and glanced up. “I need to know.”
“And you’re certain you want everyone here?”
Which was a nice way of warning that not everything was going to be pleasant. Rye nodded. “I’m
certain.” He slid a hand over and felt Ichi’s fold over his own. He’d been surprised when Ichi
hadn’t been angry over the whole fake gun, fake threat gambit. Surprised, he’d been more than a
little surprised and upset that he’d been kept in the dark and so frightened, but not angry. It was a blind, total acceptance that he was unable to refuse and desperate to return the same.
“Ready?” Jake checked one more time, a deep part of him wanting Rye to refuse.
“Jake, you’re killing us here!” Will moaned, swayed by the tension growing in the room.
“I’m ready.” Rye nodded.
Jake sighed but nodded. He tapped a few keys on his notebook and vid screen in the room
picked up the interface and displayed a photo. “Rye, you were Unidentified Child Number
834826 on Haflyn Downs.”
The vid screen displayed an obviously official identification photo. The child had been cleaned
up and his pale skin was flushed red from the scrubbing. The dark red hair, several shades less
black cherry red than Rye’s current hair color, had been cut into an uneven line. The boy was too
skinny and had a sullen frown plastered on his face. The eyes were the same, the distant, cold
gray hadn’t been altered in the least.
Rye sat up and tried to find some scrap of memory connected to that face. “That was me?”
Jake nodded. “That was you when they picked you up out of the slums of a neighborhood called
Molotov’s Mixer. Official report says you were found wandering unattended, eating from the
gutter, and that you about castrated the arresting officer.” Jake tapped a few more keys and the
written report came up. “In fact, the first notes in your file are warnings toward your short temper an
d violent tendencies. Apparently, you gave the social workers a hell of a time.”
“How old was I?” It felt odd, asking personal questions about himself.
“Unknown, they guessed you were about six from medical exams, but it’s also noted that you
were severally malnourished and quite ill when picked up. Refused or didn’t know your name,
where you were from or any family. It’s written in here that you told one of the case workers that
an older boy called you ‘the little shit’, but you didn’t think that was your name.” Jake scrolled
across reports and more pictures, all showing a scrawny child with too old eyes and a mean look.
“So I was nothing.”
Amanda shook her head. “No, it means you were dumped into a bad situation too young.”
Rye glanced down but he kept his hand tightly wrapped around Ichi’s. “What else?”
“You were deemed too antisocial to be adoptable and placed at Hearts of Eternal Mercy’s Home
for Unwanteds, a private company that ran and still runs orphanages, group homes, mental
wards, soup kitchens and homeless shelters on seven worlds. Two guesses who owns and funds
Hearts of Eternal Mercy.” Jake had brought up pictures of the home Rye had been sent to but the
redhead was watching the still images and promotional footage with not even a flicker of
recognition.
Will leaned forward. “Lerman.”
“Give the man a cookie.” Jake grinned bitterly. “Rye you were one of eighty-three children
between the ages of ten and five gleaned from the Lerman controlled orphanages over an eight
year period. During those eight years tests were done on new arrivals. They rated intelligence,
aggression, adaptability, creativity, as well as rating the likelihood of the child being missed. If the score was high enough, the child interesting enough, Lerman took them.”
“To what end?” Amanda asked, as gently as she could.
“This is where things get tricky. Lerman uses coded internal memos, keywords and such, we’ve
been trying to break it apart. I’ve Jess and Ryan working on it even as we speak.”
“Jake,” Rye asked softly. “Please, best guess and just say it.”
