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..."