Warning: This story is unsuitable for minors and contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity considered taboo (and
illegal) in most (if not all) jurisdictions. If such activity
offends you, please DO NOT read any further. I do not condone any
illegal activity and stress that this work is fiction, fantasy,
and in no way meant to reflect reality. Sexual abuse of minors is
a very serious issue and I encourage anyone tempted to engage in
such behavior to seek help immediately.

Title: The Journey (Part 2) 
Story Codes: SciFi, mb, light sex
Date of Latest Update to This Story: 5/30/14

Dear Reader: Thank you for taking the time to read my work. If
you wish to drop me a line, feel free. My email address is
(storiesfromsam@hotmail.com) and I look forward to hearing from
you. Additionally, proofreading is not one of my better skills so
if you find errors you believe impact the story's readability,
please let me know. Offers to proofread will be welcomed with
open arms.

Without further adieu...

.................

Chapter Four: Year 3017

A shiver ran down Byron's back as the fifteen-year-old hurried
past the burnt out remains of some sort of eatery. Best not to
look, the boy thought to himself, though his eyes had trouble
finding anything on the promenade of Deck 2085 not scarred from
the terrible events that had forever altered Iota. The
devastation on this deck was not unique to this part of the
station and Byron was anxious to be done with his task. Deliver
the memory chip. Deliver it quickly. Deliver it quietly. Byron
patted the small hard bulge where the chip hid in his pocket and
licked his lips anxiously. The flimsy material was a small
comfort but did little to protect him from the chill of the
walkway, his bare feet and bare torso covered in goose-bumps and
grime as he slid around corners in the near dark.

There was a slight acrid scent in the air and Byron recalled that
many of the chemical weapons the cultists had employed towards
the end of the fighting had actually changed the chemical
composition of some of the alloys employed to reinforce the
structural integrity of the station. So had the bombs that had
been detonated all over the station, killing hundreds of
thousands instantaneously. Though the fighting had ended at the
stroke of midnight seventeen years ago, when the many cultists
had swallowed their cyanide capsules in an effort to escape to
nirvana and avoid the celestial punishment they believed would be
doled out to the non-believers at the turn of the century, the
effects of that turbulent and deadly time haunted the inhabitants
of Iota every day. The acrid smell, Byron thought sadly, was only
the tip of the pain those foolish people inflicted. Well over
three million dead. Only about four percent of the population
still living. Mass chaos. Labor shortages. Tech problems. Whole
sections of the station uninhabitable. The only small mercy, as
was generally thought, was that the cultists had refused to cause
harm to the many environmental pods; seeing their natural state
as being closest to the often sought nirvana.

As Byron used a broken piece of metal to wedge open a busted door
and slide through carefully, the boy thought about the doomsday
cult. Angry over what they perceived as the excessiveness of
station life and poisoned by their Prophets Triumvirate, they had
nearly wiped out the station in a guerrilla war that had lasted
almost five years. Byron shivered again, thinking about the
horror stories he'd heard throughout his life of those terrible
final days. He was glad, though, that he was doing his part now
to help the station. Doing his part to help the remaining
one-hundred and fifty thousand people struggling to survive on
Iota.

Eventually, Byron found the stairs he was looking for in a dark
and remote corridor. Staircase 54C. Byron took a breath. He still
had another forty decks to climb before he could unload his cargo
to the man who had raised him as his own. Jessie. His adopted
father. His devoted lover. Or, more accurately, Byron thought
bitterly, his once devoted lover.

Byron had been found as a toddler wandering a nearly
uninhabitable deck when Jessie, then a teenager himself, swooped
up the youngster and made him his own. Jessie was Byron's
everything in those early years, so close in time to the troubled
events of the turn of the century, and the youngster worshiped
the older boy. Still worshiped him, if Byron was being honest
with himself. Only a few weeks after the two boys settled into an
abandoned apartment, Jessie came in the night and introduced the
small boy to the pleasures of the flesh. For ten years, Jessie
made love to Byron nightly and Byron, though uncomfortable at
first, quickly learned to love the attention.

And then a year ago, Jessie had begun to visit less frequently.
Too old, he had told Byron, and no longer pre-pubescent. Byron
was crushed. He knew Jessie loved him. He knew it. And yet, his
damn hormones began to swirl and his body began to change and the
man he adored no longer leered at him. Byron no longer
experienced the sweet release of Jessie's mouth and hands or the
closeness of Jessie inside of him. It was a miserable existence.

Deciding to take a break, Byron slid into a residential unit just
next to the stairway and was happy to find the computer terminal
was still active. Finally, the boy thought to himself, a chance
for a well earned rest. Shutting the door to the hall and sliding
into the comfortable chair, Byron withdrew the memory chip and
inserted it into the computer. A few quick keystrokes and the
files were up and reviewable. Sure, he wasn't supposed to be
looking at the data but, then again, who would know?

Besides, it would be interesting to see the information Jessie
had been desperate to gather. Byron knew Jessie was planning on
seizing control of the station and the data on this chip was
going to allow him to override computer lock-outs and disrupt the
fledgling government. He'd admitted to Byron three years earlier
that he believed he was destined to rule, to make Iota submit to
him as it's supreme leader. And Byron wanted to help his beloved
father/lover achieve that goal. No one, Byron knew, had the
vision or destiny of Jessie.

The file opened. Most were complex algorithms that Byron didn't
understand. Others were reports that seemed sociological in
nature and a quick glance showed they had been written over the
course of hundreds of years. Economic charts. Passwords and
computer codes. Security data. Cargo manifests. There were
numerous other files that contained dense and nearly impenetrable
data. Byron skipped all of that quickly because boredom seemed a
definite possibility should he review those files too closely. He
did have the sense to smile, though, because he could tell this
was exactly the type of information that would allow Jessie to
become the leader of Iota.

After ten minutes of randomly searching the data, though, Byron
found a most curious file. Buried deep in the chip was a small
folder entitled "PRIVATE" and it was into this forbidden place he
entered. Hitting the return button, hundreds of video files
immediately became playable to the boy. Sex videos, Byron
realized after a moment. Boysex videos, his mind suddenly
clarified a moment later.

Bitterness pervaded Byron's thoughts at what he'd lost and for a
brief moment, he hated Jessie. The man was a pedophile and Byron
knew, now that he was older, that pedophiles had only ever been
tolerated on Iota prior to the war with the cultists. Sure, it
was well known that there was a wide range of sexual preferences
among the population. Men who enjoyed men. Women who enjoyed
women. Men and women who enjoyed the opposite gender. Moreover,
it had been incredibly common for children to engage in sex play
with each other. That said, Byron had learned over the years that
there had been strong taboos against adults engaging in sex play
with children. Especially when those children were pre-pubescent.
Byron had even heard that those found to have engaged in this
taboo behavior were punished incredibly severely; sometimes with
death.

But he still loved Jessie. And Jessie loved him. Byron knew he
did.

And now these videos illustrated just how physically unacceptable
he was to Jessie. The man would rather look at these... these
tawdry videos that sleep with him. These videos that must have
been compiled over hundreds of years and passed from one
pedophile to another in a complex web of secrecy.

Byron cried for an hour before he left the apartment. He still
had a data chip to deliver to Jessie. He still loved the man.

For the first time in his life, as he began to take the stairs
two at a time, Byron thought he understood the self-destructive
zealotry of the cultists.

...................

Chapter Five: 3323

Zen. That was what Cam was seeking. Zen from the bonds of flesh
that encased his soul. Zen from the bonds of metal and technology
that encased his flesh. Zen from the bonds of tyranny that
encased the station.

Sitting in his dark dirty room in the heart of the Underdecks,
surrounded by the oppressed and undesirables of Iota, Cam began
to meditate. Slowly, the anxiety of everyday life fell away as
did the crushing poverty and hopelessness of those around him.
The anger over the vast injustices on Iota faded into nothing.
The fact that the Royal Guard was even now looking for him no
longer seemed important. Instead, as his mind began to achieve
the state of zen, Cam felt peace.

A sinewy boy of twelve with large blue eyes and golden blond
hair, Cam was a perfect specimen of boyhood. Kind and resourceful
and beautiful, the child was well known in this part of the
Underdeck for being wise beyond his years. His mother, dead four
years now, had somehow gotten hold of an old book of philosophy
and had taught Cam the tenets of the soul and faith and peace and
sacrifice before withering away during a plague year. Being a
spiritual child, Cam had kept to the shadows and began to teach
other children about zen. Then he taught adults. Unlike most
orphans, who would turn to backbreaking labor or prostitution to
support themselves in the slums of Iota, Cam became a teacher and
spiritual advisor. He was revered as holy.

A knock sounded at the door and Cam stood slowly, wrapping the
long cloth robe around his shoulders before opening it. Michael
was there, the man naked as most Slummies were naked. The fact
that Cam was afforded such a privilege as cloth echoed in the
back of his mind as he gazed kindly on the older man. "Teacher,"
the man thirty years older than Cam said as he bowed
respectfully, "the Guard is almost here. They are looking for
you."

Taking a deep breath, Cam stepped into the promenade and closed
his door. The guard was coming for him because the Lord Regent
had a penchant for young boys. Beautiful young boys. Boys like
Cam. And the Lord Regent, ruler of Iota and master of the
station, was entitled to plunder whatever he had a penchant for.
"Then Rustin has betrayed me? He has informed them of my
location?" The Lord Regent had been trying to find Cam for the
past six months, ever since the boy released an impassioned video
recording of himself spreading the message of personal
enlightenment and civic disobedience against the brutality of
Iota's ruling class. That video made him a target.

"I'm... I... Yes teacher. They... They..."

"It's alright Michael. Be at peace. I go where I must. I do what
I must." Taking his robe from around his shoulders so his nudity
made him one with the many naked people watching him now, he
handed the precious clothing to the old man and began to walk
down the promenade. Towards the Guards.

The street was dirty and cluttered. Hot and humid. Cam walked as
a king, nodding to those who looked at him in awe. They all knew
what was coming. They had all heard of their ruler's
proclivities. A child of no more than seven ran up to Cam and
offered him a cup. Cam drank heartily. An old woman passed him a
small rice cake. He ate it and thanked her. He saw Wilhem and
Martin and Jorge. Terry and Jordan and Fasil. Those men, his most
devoted followers, nodded to him as he passed. The traitor,
Rustin, was nowhere to be found.

Turning a corner, Cam found himself facing the Guard, their
weapons and armor imposing. Instead of fleeing, though, Cam
walked up and introduced himself. Twenty minutes later, the
Guardsmen and Cam were taking an elevator up to where the
Highborn lived.

The slummies, or Lowborn as they were properly known, were the
massive underclass that kept Iota running. Denied education,
healthy living conditions, medicine, and much of the ample
technological wonders that could easily improve their lot, the
slummies were poor in the most literal sense. The Highborn were
the opposite. Courtesans and sycophants, they lived on well-kept
decks and ruled Iota with brutal efficiency. The Lord Regent,
latest in a long line of hereditary rulers, was their leader. He
was a monster.

Many years ago, decks 197 through 201 were converted into a large
palatial estate. It was here that the Lord Regent, and indeed
most of his followers, lived in extravagant fashion.
Responsibility, the Lord Regent had told the population, entitled
him to live comfortably. After all, he and the leaders of the
station had continued to use the Jump Drive to gradually move
Iota towards the planet their ancestors had desired to colonize.
The task of running the station, thus, necessitated a comfortable
existence.

It was into this palace, designated Deck ALPHA, that Cam found
himself entering. Shiny white walls. Clean and sanitary floors.
Beautiful works of art. It was stunning. Cam looked straight
ahead, seeking zen as he walked. Two double doors opened deep in
the labyrinth and Cam entered calmly, the guards closing the door
behind him. The room, the throne room, was filled with dozens of
people.

Cam walked slowly towards the dais where the Lord Regent, he
knew, was staring at him. Though everyone in the room was clothed
in finery and Cam himself was naked, the boy walked with the
grace of a king. He was near the zen. Ten feet from the dais, Cam
stopped. He bowed. The Lord Regent laughed.

"My my my," mocked the man in his late forties as he stood and
unabashedly leered at the naked youth before him. "You are Cam,
the teacher? My boy, you are lovely. I see why the Lowborn hold
you in such high esteem. They all want to sleep with you!"

Titters of laughter filled the room. Cam stood straight, looking
the man in the eye. "Sir, that is not the reason my people care
for me." The room became quiet. Few dared contradict the Lord
Regent. Fewer still declined to give him the honorific "Your
Majesty" that was demanded by the petulant aristocrat.

The ruler stroked his chin and licked his lips. It would be fun
breaking this child, he thought to himself. "And why, teacher, do
they care for you?"

"Because I show compassion. I have faith. I seek to better
myself. I love. I seek zen."

The room remained silent.

"I could teach you these things, Sir." Cam said, using his eyes
to plead with the man in the hope he might get through to the
leader. Every man has good in himself, Cam thought silently, and
deserves a chance to repent. "But you have committed many sins.
You live in darkness. You could raise our community up but you
continue to choose to tear it down. Please, Sir, turn from your
path and become a leader whom we can hold in high esteem. Become
a good man."

The Lord Regent snickered at the audacity of the boy. "I think
not. I like my life the way it is, thank you very much. Now, you
and I are going to be having some fun tonight. Is it true you are
virgin?"

Cam gave a bone weary sigh. He had come in peace, in his
nakedness, seeking goodness. He had tried. And yet, it was clear
that the man could not be redeemed. There was no hope for the
people of Iota so long as the head of this beast was rotten.

It was time to achieve zen.

The boy closed his eyes and tuned out the Lord Regent. He tuned
out the room around him. He dove into his mind and sought
serenity. It came to him, the powerful feeling of floating in
nothingness while embracing the universe. Cam smiled to himself.

That sudden sense of peace sent a signal to a small biological
implant in his spine. The implant released Tetrison-D into his
system. That potent chemical, mixing with the Baracodone-S he had
consumed in the boy's cup earlier, and catalyzed by the
Lifidorsen-H in the rice cake the old woman had fed him, began a
chemical reaction in his body. As the boy felt his body reacting
to the change, he sent a small prayer into the universe for the
people of Iota and he forgave the Lord Regent and his cronies for
their many sins. He also thanked Rustin, his most loyal follower,
whom had wept when Cam had asked the old man to betray him.

Then Deck ALPHA exploded.

......................

Chapter Six: 3579

Billy ran as fast as he could, pumping his long coltish legs
laboriously in the hopes of stopping the other team from scoring
and ending the game. Five meters. Three. One. He jumped, flying
through the air with his arms out stretched and trying,
desperately trying, to protect the small hoop that served as the
goal.

He landed with a hard "Hmph!" on the soft grass and rolled over
several times as he heard a cheer rise up around him. Had he
deflected the ball? Was the game still on? Had he made the
greatest save ever seen in the history of all sports ever?

No.

The fourteen-year-old groaned in defeat as he realized that the
ball had been just out of reach and, as his teammates picked him
up and patted him on the back while the other team danced around
in happiness, the boy could only hang his head. He'd been so
close! The imaginary sun beat down upon the nine boys as they
made their way off the turf, out of the tournament and out of
luck.

"Don't worry Billy," said Samuel, the other boy wiping his brow.
"You almost had it."  It was hot in the environmental pod today
and the boys made their way over to the concessions stand and
grabbed a round of waters, smiling sadly at each other and
commiserating their defeat. They'd made it far, for a group of
thirteen and fourteen-year-olds, but the remaining teams were all
older. Still, there was always next year!

"My parents want to know if you are staying the night again?"
Samuel asked cautiously, sensing Billy's discomfort with the
inquiry. He knew that Billy would need to ask permission from his
father and the other boy sympathized. Billy's dad was not the
warmest individual and the man, a mining foreman who was busy
harvesting metals in the asteroid cluster Iota was currently
orbiting, would frown upon his son spending yet another night at
a friends apartment.

"Um... Let me check." Billy and Samuel approached the nearest
data screen and Billy's Heart of Life began transmitting the
correct codes into the small terminal so as to allow Billy to
access the data network. As Billy began to look through the
proper channels, he couldn't help but smile. He'd had his Heart
of Life implanted three weeks earlier, one of the first in the
station to be afforded such an opportunity, and it was still a
unique and wonderful gift. The People's Government, which had
just celebrated it's bicentennial, was doing a remarkable job of
digging through Iota's past and allowing the population a chance
to modernize. Or, the boy thought for a moment, re-modernize.

It had been a difficult six hundred years for the station. War.
Famine. Dictatorships. Brutality. Near extinction. Then the
Teacher had emerged and wiped the slate clean, allowing the
broken people of Iota to come together and work towards a
brighter future. Those early decades were difficult, or so the
history books said, but with the founding of the People's
Government emerged a democracy dedicated to freedom,
self-determination, and a return to Iota Station's original
purpose: to colonize a distant world. It had only been within the
last few years that enough infrastructure was in place for the
population to begin to move away from a manufacturing based
economy to a technological and information based economy. Much to
the delight of those living on Iota, Hearts of Life were being
implanted throughout the station and everyone was able to access
technology that had existed in the thirtieth century but had been
all but forgotten for the past six.

Billy eventually accessed his father's excavator and sent a
request for a face-to-face communication. A moment later, the
gruff and bearded man appeared on the screen, his body covered in
his heavy miner's uniform. Billy winced, disliking that his
father worked in an occupation that required clothing. It was
embarrassing; no one wore clothing on Iota except those who
worked in the few professions that required it. Billy's gaze
darted to the side and he saw Samuel grinning at him stupidly; he
knew the other boy would tease him that his father was a
`clother' later that evening.

"Um... Dad? Do you think that..." Billy began.

"Yes," his father interrupted, "I want you to go with Samuel to
his apartment tonight, Billy. In fact, I want you to stay there
for the next few days until I come back to Iota. Stay with your
friend. Don't go anywhere alone. In fact, don't leave the
apartment. I give you permission to miss any live lectures and
I'm going to write to your apprenticeship and tell them I am
keeping you home. Do you hear me? Stay out of sight."

Billy reeled. Why was his father speaking so quickly? Why did his
father look nervous? The man was usually a rock. "Dad, why?
What's happened?"

"I can't say much son. It's just... Billy, we found something out
here. This great big..."

The feed dissolved into static for a brief moment before going
dead. Billy tapped the console a few more times, concerned. They
found something? What? A hand landed on his shoulder and Samuel
said quietly "Whoa, that was really strange, man."

"Yeah. Yeah it was..." responded Billy as the boys stepped away
from the terminal. Saying goodbye to their teammates, the two
boys left the environmental pod and proceeded to Samuel's
apartment. On the way, they speculated as to what Billy's dad had
been about to say. They decided, after a great deal of back and
forth, that Billy's dad had discovered a huge deposit of
Caltesiaum and he and Billy were now filthy rich.

Samuel's mother and father were already there when they arrived
and, after greeting the two boys, the four of them sat down to an
early dinner. Then, without prompting, Billy and Samuel slid into
Samuel's room and began to work on their academic pursuits. They
had hoped to get their reading done earlier enough to allow
themselves a couple of hours of free time - Samuel had a new
strategy game both boys were eager to play.

"Boys! Come out here!" yelled Samuel's mother later that evening,
just as the boys were loading up the game onto their personal
computer terminals. "Hurry!"

Billy and Samuel glanced at each other and jumped up, rushing
into the living room where the two adults were standing and
watching the station's live news network. What they heard stopped
them cold.

"I repeat," said the news anchor dazedly, a good looking woman in
her early fifties, "a leak in the Office of the Chancellor has
just confirmed that a mineral dig in the local asteroid cluster
has uncovered... Wait... Here... Yes, we are being patched
through to the Chancellor's Speaker for an official
announcement."

But the Speaker didn't appear. Instead, the view changed to a
short severe man standing in front of a podium. It was the
Chancellor himself, clothed in his ceremonial robes; the same
robes the holder of his office wore only in the most important
speeches. Samuel's mother inhaled sharply.

"Members of our great community. Earlier today, one of our
exploratory mining crafts discovered deep in the asteroid cluster
a half destroyed vessel of alien origin. Let me be clear: this
vessel did not come from Iota and... and... and it did not
originate on Earth. Though the vessel is inoperable and, indeed,
critically crippled by asteroid impact, the answer to the
question of whether we are alone in the universe has been
definitively answered in the negative. I can assure you that the
government is doing everything it can to..."