A Change Could Do You Good, Part VI: Sea Change
by Flashpoint
Kevin had had a recurring dream all of his life.But the dream wasn't the same.
(Kevin can you hear me) Kevin did not have the awareness that it was a dream, had no memory of the concept, but he knew that things were different. Like an old recording that had degraded, leaving only a magnetic fingerprint, the imprint of the dream he had always had lay somewhere in the labyrinth of his subconscious. Telling him that things were not as they had been. Not as they were meant to be.
Had they ever been?
The colors were too bright. The walls were curved and didn't make right angles. The floors had missing tiles and dark gaps. It was all wrong. All of it. But he was here and could not return to... he had a vague image of a large open space, a man... but then it slid away from him and would not return. Not yet, said the voice.
(listen to my voice Kevin) Being a dream, he felt a kind of insulation against his fear, but it still drove him forward relentlessly. He had to find... he knew on some level what it was, but the concept would not form in his head. He would know it when he found it... or it found him. He padded barefoot over the pitted floor past flickering sparking lights hanging out of their sockets, looked in broken windows and trash-filled rooms. He shivered in revulsion and confusion but he couldn't stop. He wanted to escape but did not know where he could go. There was nowhere to go. He could not escape because he had built this place and knew that there were no doors out.
The thought stopped him momentarily. He built it? He couldn't have... his thoughts whirled again, taking the reasoning with it, leaving only a vague sense of unease. He lurched forward, knowing he was going nowhere. The walls seemed to close in on him as he went.
(when I tell you to return) The room was dimmer and dirtier, the tables cracked and broken, the chairs shattered, the chalkboard half missing from the wall, a scrawled message left behind (FROZEN). He was there, as Kevin knew he would be, as he always would be, always had been. He was faded and yellow, like newsprint left out in the sun, never put away, never resting. And he sat cutting impossible shapes out of construction paper just as Kevin had before he stopped.
"Are you following your dreams, Kevin?" His suit was worn, the flower wilted, and he would not look up. Kevin did not want him to look up. His eyes were black pits that led off into a cold place and they would suck Kevin in and he would be gone forever just like... the name flew out of his mind; he knew it like he knew his own. He sat cutting and cutting, and the shapes made no sense... they could not exist. They couldn't exist because Kevin had never had one. "Always follow your dreams, Kevin."
"Your dreams?" The man approached from nowhere, in the manner of dreams. He was not as tall as Kevin, but his posture made Kevin feel that though his height was the proper one and Kevin's abnormal. And he was on fire. Across his lean naked torso and flesh was a fusion of limb and talon, of wing and flame... a phoenix. And he was oh so beautiful. "You don't even know your dreams." Kevin felt awed in his presence, and humbled, and another strange emotion that he had never felt before, one he had craved but never understood... "But you will." He looked toward Gennaro (who is he Kevin) and Kevin saw him cutting out... hearts. Hearts? There was no time for thought. With a strange commanding timbre to his voice, his lean muscular body glowing in the eerie half-light, the man approached. "Listen to my voice, Kevin."
And Kevin was transfixed as a feather of flame drove into his mind...
It began by ending. Kevin was entering the Boss' lair, walking up the stairs, walking into the bar... backwards. He was (un)entering, (un)walking up the stairs, (un)bloating. It was happening in reverse, unspooling in his mind like a rewound film. He was (un)driving to the bar, (un)leaving his apartment, (un)dressing for the night. It went faster. He was (un)eating dinner the previous night. And faster. He was (un)training clients the previous week. Faster. (Un)buying clothes the previous month. And faster still.
He (un)ate food, (un)watched movies, (un)shopped. It became a blur of siphoned recognizance, as he felt his experiences drained out of him. He had the paradoxical view of feeling his experiences disappear and losing their memory, and being aware of the difference, the loss, knowing the comparison.
The months and years flew by, flew out of him. His first meeting with Ted, his new truck, his apartment, his job... gone like mist. His boyfriends, his fuck-buddies, his friends... disappeared. He was struck by how few there had really been. His clients... folded away like cardboard. It seemed as though they had never been real.
And as some faded, others sprang (back) into existence, called from the depth of years. He watched his college years in mixed horror and amazement. His (un)graduation. The first man to (un)seduce Kevin. The accident that (un)demolished his first car. The college professor that (un)failed him in physics. The only woman with whom he (would ever have/had ever had) sex. Disastrously.
He (un)left for college, and his world lurched. His turbulent adolescence once again roiled his belly with ecstasy and disgust. His confused feelings of sexuality, not yet resolved in his mind, came flooding into him once more. His puzzlement over what to do with his life... his feelings of inadequacy as he (un)discovered working out.
He watched his father backing into the house carrying his suitcases, (un)saying the only words that Kevin (had heard/would hear) from him for seven years ("niveK, tluaf ruoy ton st'I") while avoiding the dishes that collected from the rubble on the floor and flew up, bounced off the walls and into his mother's hand as she screamed that his father was a dratsab and she didn't know why she ever mih deirram. His grandmother was carried in (backward) on a stretcher into the living room and put down on the floor, where she lay prostrate until she stumbled to her feet clutching her chest, before backing into the house (un)cleaning and (un)dusting.
The experiences and memories became a constant grey blur as they flew by. The mountainous highs and cavernous lows melted into a homogenous plain. And with it grew a sense of dread. He knew that something was (approaching/receding) that he did not want to see. He (was/had been) so hungry, so hungry. And he hated the hospital. Someone (was/would be) missing... someone he loved very much. He felt so alone. He's always been alone.
And then his mother (un)said something that (would/had) shut off part of Kevin's mind and heart... something that he (had forgotten/would forget) for 26 years...
Light exploded into his mind. Images. His uncle. (always) The hospital. (follow) Michelangelo. (your) His mother. (dreams) The funeral. Light. The light was burning him. Time lurched forward, and he saw it all again... for the first time in his life he knew. He knew what was missing.
And then his mother said something that (had/would) shut off part of Kevin's heart and mind... something that he (would forget/had forgotten) for 26 years...
But it didn't advance any farther. He watched it grind to a halt even while (re)living it. And like an inexorable juggernaut time rolled backward. Once again they tried to feed him. Once again he suffered through the funeral, watching as his uncle was raised out of the ground and put into a hearse. And his mother (un)said something. Always follow your dreams, Kevin.
And he watched helplessly as time again lurched forward. The museum. He was so hungry. Time rolled backward. He woke up one day and couldn't remember. Time lurched forward. Heart failure. Time rolled backward. He was kicking and screaming. Forward. Michelangelo. Backward. Never do that, Kevin.
time lurched forward time rolled backward time lurched (Kevin wake up) forward time rolled backward (Kevin come back) time lurched forward time rolled (Kevin can you hear me) backward time lurched forward (when I tell you to return) time rolled backward time rolled/lurched backward/forward
And Kevin was transfixed as a feather of flame drove into his mind...
(Kevin please come back I need you)
My name is Kevin. I am 32 years old. My uncle's heart stopped when I was six. And when his heart stopped so did mine.
(and the shattered pieces of mind flown apart for so long and fragmented suddenly all slid back into place like an unbreaking piece of glass like there had never been a split never separated never left part of Kevin shut off never caring never loving if you look closely you can't even see where the break was we do good work here don't we Kevin they all said I was cold and unfeeling and they were right oh Light of Heaven I ran like hell I was so afraid I had dreams and I pushed them away I forgot about them I was so wrong my life is built on a lie I have damned myself oh Light help me heal me save me lux perpetua liberati mei eternal Light save me)
"Kevin, return! Return now! RETURN!"
"NON VOGLIO MORIRE!" Kevin screamed. His grandmother's last words, words that he remembered only too well. I do not want to die.
At the moment, however, Kevin was well aware he was alive. He'd been fucked before but never felt as completely filled as he did at this moment. He felt as though he was being pounded from ass to neck and he was reeling from the relentless pile-driving pleasure-pain he felt. Dazed, he looked up and saw The Master fucking him ruthlessly, his entire body a blur of thrusting as his pelvis abused Kevin's defenseless hole, a loud squelching sound filling the room with each movement. The orgasm that bubbled out of Kevin was almost an afterthought. As were the third and fifth that followed in rapid succession.
Swinging back and forth in space, he looked up at The Master and was struck by his muscularity, his chest, his face. His lean, sinewy body was coated by an even layer of sweat, making him glow in the light around them, making the phoenix tattoo seem to take flight. He had a wild look; his teeth gritted, his breath like a bellows, his eyes clenched.
And he was oh so beautiful.
Suddenly he thrust in with a feral roar that made Kevin scream in purest agony and heavenly bliss as The Master shot with the force of a cannon. Kevin looked down and was not surprised to see his midsection start to inflate with the force. From flat midsection to bowed outward to a round ball in a matter of minutes, he felt an incredible painless pressure as he grew. In his daze, he smiled, no cares or concerns about the sight. With no warning, The Master suddenly withdrew, which made Kevin yell again, this time with the discomfort of the sudden evacuation. The loud, wet fart he gave as cum suddenly came rushing out of him was also no surprise.
"Are you all right?" The Master was suddenly leaning over him and instead of his usual imperious gaze he was pale and frightened. Ridiculous. He was a Master; he was never afraid. But there it was, and underlying it was something else, whatever it was.
He tried to speak, but only a weak croak came out. He smiled to indicate that he was all right and that he could get up. The Master nodded and grasped Kevin's hand in a strong grip and hauled him up and to a standing position. Kevin stood momentarily, but his legs immediately started to give way under him, having no strength and bow-legged to the point of uselessness. His stretched ass gave another loud fart and more cum spilled to the floor in a steady stream. The Master did not hesitate, but guided him to the floor immediately, taking care that Kevin landed softly and gently. He sat immediately to Kevin's right and remained intent on him. He gave a light embrace and stroked Kevin's skin, murmuring meaningless reassurances to bring Kevin back to Earth. He still looked afraid.
Kevin's sexual high lasted for some minutes, during which time he was not really sure where he was or how he got there. He had never, in his entire life, had such an incredible sexual experience, and he was by no means inexperienced. This, however, was different. He knew in his awakening mind that The Master had altered their bodies, but Kevin was beyond all but the simple concept of its happening to wonder about it. He was too busy with the overwhelming wave cresting in his mind, afterglow warring with the flood of memories.
They were disjointed and out of sequence, but they were new. The time at the zoo when the gorilla got out. The Christmas that Kevin got the Six Million Dollar Man doll. When they played cards and both of them cheated. The time Kevin crawled into the suitcase so he wouldn't have to take his bath...
...until his uncle found him. They were all about his uncle. Things he had never known before, filling gaps he hadn't even realized were there.
The Master repeated the question. "Are you all right, Kevin?"
Kevin didn't hear it. He only murmured, "I remember. I'm sorry, uncle. I'm sorry I forgot you." The Master said nothing in reply; he seemed to not even hear. "What happened to me?" Kevin asked, his voice the same soft whisper. He was hoarse and had no energy at all.
If Kevin had not been watching for it, he would never have noticed the hesitation before The Master spoke. "The formula you received was contaminated, Kevin. It was meant to restore you, not do what it did. It was an accident, but Ted has been taught to take better care with such things. I have sent him to his chamber for now. He will be disciplined." He said it as a matter of course, like saying that he was going to have a cup of tea.
"I thought you ran a better business than that," Kevin said dryly. He was coming back quickly now that he was awake, but he wasn't really paying much attention. He felt as though something about him were different, other than the new memories, but he didn't know what it was. Or it was almost different, but hadn't catalyzed... Not yet, came the phantom voice he had heard all of his life. Not yet what? Kevin asked in reply, but there was only silence. "What did you do to me?" The museum. Kevin had forgotten, but now he remembered every line of the Michelangelo sketch they saw that day. Always follow your dreams. But I lost my dreams a long time ago, Uncle, Kevin thought sadly. I lived my life in fear.
"Big bellies aren't the only type of change in which I like to indulge my fantasies, Kevin," he replied. He had a slight roguish half smile. Kevin found himself smiling back. Not yet. When? Kevin asked back. Still no answer. The Master - I really must ask him what his name is, Kevin thought - really was good looking. "I also like fisting quite a bit too. Top and bottom." He hesitated for a moment, like he was debating whether to say something, and then added, "But I like what I like to call edge play fisting. Beyond what is usually physically possible in a human male. Before I was able to change men's bodies, I was usually frustrated, but now, well..." He seemed to be trying not to smile as he stood. That was all, but Kevin's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets at the sight that came into view as he rose.
Instead of a penis, he had a tree trunk. The nearest approximation in size in any event. Now flaccid (Kevin hoped it was), it was easily over 14 inches long, as thick as a bodybuilder's bicep - Kevin had certainly seen enough of those in his career - and had a set of testicles to make a basketball jealous. THAT had gone into him?? Just as he thought this, though, of course, his ass gave another loud fart, and he had no doubt that it had, and how it had been managed. "Of course," The Master continued, "I had to make some adjustments to you too. You'll be stretched out for a few days but you'll tighten up to near what you were before." He paused, and then added, "Unless you want to make it permanent. It can be arranged." He sounded almost hopeful.
Kevin resisted the urge to feel his aching hole to see just how open it was. I am not into fisting! Now that he was awake, his convictions seemed to be coming back, but it seemed to be an effort to hold strong to them, like they didn't matter any more. "That isn't what I meant and you know it." He wanted to stand, but could not even put his legs together, let alone get up at this point. "The last clear memory I have is... inflating... and then you're power-fucking me for all it's worth." He tried to convey that he had not enjoyed it, but he failed; he was very close to grinning.
But the excitement he had over the experience evaporated as he remembered what he had experienced in the dream, living his life in reverse... It couldn't be a coincidence. "You did something to me. Something... What did you do to me?" He couldn't help the sharpness of his voice but he was distracted. He was trying to keep his eyes above waist level, but from this perspective it wasn't easy, especially since he didn't really want to.
The Master's amused look vanished in a twinkling. He didn't look angry, but he became so serious so quickly that Kevin was startled. Kevin wasn't sure that he had crossed the line, but he felt that had every right to ask. After a long moment, The Master wordlessly turned and vanished into the surrounding darkness, a bit off-center due to his amazing appendage. And it was dark, Kevin realized. The entire area except where the two of them had been was as dark as a starless night.
Left alone with his thoughts for a moment, too tired to move and not wanting to expend the energy, Kevin waited. He wasn't frightened. He thought that logically he should be, but could not muster the emotion necessary for it, and could not understand why not. Except... he shook his head trying to force them away, but the memories came in anyway. His uncle. His mother. He had forgotten. He had made himself forget, all those long years ago, and it had been like being encased in ice... solid, unchanging, and cold. He had stopped. Stopped growing.
What did that make him now that he knew it?
"I have said it before, and I undoubtedly will say it again, Kevin," said The Master, "you do like to make things difficult." Kevin was so startled he nearly jumped back into the sling from the floor. The man could move like a panther when he chose. Not surprisingly, his cock had gone down to more human proportions, although it was still rather big; around ten inches long when erect, Kevin estimated. He forced himself to look the man into His eyes, difficult as it was with His iron gaze. "All right, Kevin. I find myself..." He took a deep breath. What had been about to say? The way the man started sentences and refused to finish them was a very irritating habit. Kevin didn't want to think about what he hoped it might be. "Can you stand?" He made no move to help this time.
Kevin did not reach toward him either, but felt annoyed that he was not offered help even so. With difficulty, he brought his legs toward each other - it was still difficult - and was finally able to stand. Wobbly, with legs still spread like an ape - a well fucked ape - and he felt a cool breeze blow into his still open hole to a place where it wasn't designed to go, but he was on his feet. He wouldn't be running on the treadmill any time soon, but he was on his feet. "Yes," he said, with a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.
The Master gave a curt nod and turned toward the darkness again. This time however, the lights rose in front of him in a dim path. Kevin blinked, put off. How *did* the man do that? He had made no overt command verbally or physically, but the room obeyed him, just as the monitors had earlier. Suddenly, when he thought of that... the man had cameras in his apartment. He would have to remember to look for them, now that he knew they were there. His irritation level was increasing by the moment as he recalled his various violations of the evening.
Laboriously, he followed The Master to the desk. It wasn't a long walk, but Kevin was by no means steady, and he made audible squelching noises with each step. That, and he was sure he felt cum running down his legs continuously as well. Finally, however, The Master was again seated at his desk, and Kevin stood before it. He had not been offered a seat, and Kevin knew better than to ask for one. Not that there was one in sight in any case.
The Master sat there silently, giving a fixed look to Kevin, as unashamed in his nudity as though he wore armor. He truly had no shame in his body, not that he had any cause. The look went on for some moments, and Kevin began to feel uncomfortable. It was all too surreal: a few moments earlier he had been having the life fucked out of him, after a night of humiliating transformations and surly underlings. Jake still bothered him for no reason he could name, but it seemed that Kevin had had a thought about him at one point, but he couldn't remember what it was or when it had happened. It was something about his eyes.
"Kevin," The Master began, and Kevin looked at him, relieved and happy (happy?) to be addressed, "I'm glad you're all right. I truly am. I know in light of tonight that you have every right to not believe that, but it's true." Kevin frowned, but his heart wasn't really in it; the man did seem sincere. Not that there was anything different about him from earlier. And yet there was...
...or maybe Kevin was seeing him differently now. He wondered if the man had used some sort of potion to make himself more handsome or muscular. He seemed much more attractive now, more enticing. It had to be a potion of some sort. Kevin had had a mental upheaval but that didn't change how he saw other people. Did it?
"Thank you," Kevin said simply. It was vague enough to not reveal any of his thoughts. "I appreciate your concern. There's only one small hitch, and that's the fact that you put me in that situation and I do *not* appreciate that one bit." There was no bite to his voice whatsoever, but The Master stiffened as though there had been. "Don't act offended. I'm right." He crossed his arms. "I want answers."
The Master stared a moment longer and surprised Kevin by barking out a laugh. "Kevin, the last person who talked back to me like you just did ended up losing four inches in height and gaining fifty unwanted pounds. I put him back eventually, but he did learn a lesson from it." He looked down at the desk, obviously amused, but a moment later his smile vanished. He was looking down at the same two dossiers he'd been examining earlier. Where had they come from?
Not looking up, he said in a much more serious tone, "Yes, Kevin, you're right. You deserve some answers." He looked up. "To some things. I won't answer all of your questions right now because there are some topics you don't need to know just yet." For a moment in his eyes there was a sort of haunted look but it was gone so quickly that Kevin thought he had imagined it. "You'll know when you come to one of them. Overall, however, there are no wrong questions and no dangerous areas for you. Ask me." He settled back.
Kevin opened his mouth... and closed it again slowly. After so long wanting answers to his questions, and having a million of them, he suddenly couldn't think of one to ask. And the ones that did come to mind (such as "How do you control the lights?") seemed banal in the extreme.
The Master raised a questioning eyebrow, and with no better idea, Kevin blurted out, "What's your name?" Suddenly he felt very small and stupid, especially when The Master again burst out laughing.
"After all that buildup *that's* your first question? Very well. My name is... Troy Kiered." He again waited, as though waiting for some reaction. Kevin wanted to scream at him to stop hesitating! His irritation level was mounting again. After a moment, Kevin apparently failed to give the reaction The Master - Troy - had expected, so he continued. "You will never speak my name except as an introduction for others, but that's my name. You will learn what I prefer to be called later. Any others?" There was a slight ironic tone to his voice. He was *laughing* at Kevin. But then, that was His right, wasn't it?
Shrugging off that thought, Kevin thought of a more immediate concern. Now that the ice was broken as it were, the important issues were coming back to mind. "What..." he paused, not sure how to frame the question, "What did you *do* to me?" He didn't know how else to put it, what he was really trying to ask, but the other man nodded.
"Ted was careless. I don't know how me managed to do it, but what you received was contaminated by at least two other formulae. None of them was designed to do what happened, but they acted synergistically and randomly. That's the danger of manipulating tachyons." Kevin was caught off-guard by that - tachyons? That was some sort of physics thing - but Troy continued with no pause. "At the time, I felt it was harmless; even mixed, the formulae will do no damage to the body. I've seen to that."
"However, when the change took you over, your mind began to... to shut down. I've never seen that happen before, even in the most radical changes. I had to assess the mental damage if any. I used hypnotic regression to mentally put you past - well, before - the event occurred, but it didn't work the way it was supposed to." He sounded puzzled and disgruntled. He didn't like things he didn't understand. "I... took the liberty of putting a post-hypnotic command structure in your mind. I had no choice, really; there was no other way of keeping your mind from fragmenting entirely."
"You began to cascade regress." At Kevin's puzzled look, he added, "Which means the mental regression wouldn't stop. You were moving backwards in your life uncontrollably. I've read that it could occur but I've never seen it happen before, and I've been using hypnotic control since before you were... In any case, this shouldn't have happened. I suspect that your personal issues were substantial enough for your mind to start it spontaneously." Kevin's eyes narrowed. How much had he revealed under hypnosis? The Master's eyes revealed nothing, of course, but that meant little.
"And the sex?"
The Master smiled devilishly. "I take responsibility for that. You certainly didn't object when I asked you whether you wanted to be fucked. And my size was your idea, not mine. I believe you said 'Fuck me with your arm' or words to that effect. We started there but you didn't seem to be satisfied, so..." He spread his hands in a 'what-else-could-I-do' gesture that was wholly ingenuous. "Incidentally, you have the most active fisting fantasies I've ever heard, and I've had a few myself." The leer on his face made Kevin's cheeks feel warm, and not just the ones on his face.
Kevin gave a dark look, not just for the comment but for what else he had said... post-hypnotic. Was he under control now? If he were would he know? Would it make a difference? What if he were under control to not notice...? His temple throbbed. He could go into an endless loop of philosophical "why" and "wherefore" if he let it continue, so he discarded the train of thought.
He didn't like being mentally manipulated. Of course I don't. But an answering voice in his mind said, maliciously, Aren't you supposed to stop lying to yourself, Kevin? You *do* enjoy being controlled don't you? He didn't like this train of thought at all, and it was making a level of panic start to build. He was being made to like all sorts of things that yesterday would have made him disgusted. To punctuate the thought, another loud squelch - and what sounded distinctly like ripping as his ass lips flapped - came from his stretched-out ass and he felt a burst of what had to be cum spurt out with it. Lux perpetua I feel fucked, he thought. I've never had this much cum after...
The thought froze in his brain. Cum. There shouldn't be cum in me. I haven't had cum in me since after that first time. The only way I'd have cum in me is if...
"You fucked me unprotected!" The shock and fear in his voice made it louder than he intended it, but he didn't care. Kevin had a career in physical fitness and health care that spanned nearly all of his life. After his asshole nutrition teacher had fucked him unprotected and cum inside him, he'd been in a blind panic for almost six months until he found out he was (thankfully) still negative. Perhaps the revelations he was still processing in his mind would make a difference in his life - perhaps not - but safer sex was a topic deeply ingrained.
The panic inside him crested and he found himself backing away. "You fucking bastard! How could you do that to me? I don't even know you! Were you just trying to poz me? What if *I'd* been poz and you weren't?"
And Kevin saw something he didn't expect - the Boss, Master, Troy, whatever his name was, open-mouthed and spluttering. "Kevin, it isn't like that! It isn't even *possible*! The virus was removed and now I can't even...!" And then, like a door closing, the change came over Him, and He was in charge again, in several senses. "Never speak to me like that again, Kevin." He paused, and Kevin felt vague shame, not unjustified - he *could* have broached the topic a bit more tactfully - but the panic was getting out of control. "I have warned you before, but still you persist." Kevin couldn't respond. What did 'the virus was removed' mean? Then The Master's - dammit, his name is Troy! - manner seemed to soften. At least He was less hard. "But that is a legitimate point. I wasn't expecting to address it right this minute, but -"
Kevin cut him off. He was no longer moving backward. He seemed to be frozen in place. "Do you mean to tell me that you're poz and you fucked me unprotected?" The question was so quiet and controlled that they were both surprised by the ferocity it contained. I'm going to die. I'm going to die after all. Help me. Someone help me. But he knew that there was no help to be received. It was too late.
Troy rose, hands outstretched, his expression a plea. Masters aren't supposed to look like that. "Kevin, that's what I'm trying to tell you! I'm *not*! I was, but I'm not now! The virus was removed! Jake even took out the antibodies! And now because of...!" And once again, he resumed control. His control seemed shakier than it had been in the past. "Kevin, I am near the end of my tether with you. That's what I'm trying to TELL you! With anyone else, Kevin, yes, you would have to worry. With me you don't. I am not like other men, thanks to Jake."
Kevin was trying very hard to accept this, but the simple fact remained: there was no cure for AIDS. The scientific community had just this past year finally (reluctantly) admitted that a cure was no closer than another century away at best. At least now they were being honest.
But Kevin was caught as surely as a fly in amber. The panic was still near to overflowing, but Troy - yes, that's his name, have to remember that - seemed so sincere in what he was saying. What if there was a cure now? Kevin might not know about it... He wanted to believe what Troy said, and not just for the benefit of his own health. This was definitely a disturbing trend in his thoughts.
He shook his head angrily. There isn't a cure! It isn't possible! But even as he thought this he thought... Any more than it's possible to make a thirty-nine-year-old man into a child or make me gain hundreds of pounds in a matter of minutes?
Kevin's attention came back to Troy, who was examining Kevin with a very concerned look. "I know it's hard to believe, Kevin, but I assure you that it's true." He hesitated yet *again* and then said, "Kevin, how old do you think I am?"
There was THAT question again! How old was this one, eight? "Twenty-four?" Kevin said weakly. He couldn't be and have such self-control, but it was possible if he'd been in the military or something like that wasn't it? He had an air of self-confidence and control that belied his smooth cheeks and lean body. Normally it took a lifetime to achieve maturity such as his.
Troy reacted visibly, startled. "Twenty-four? Why...? Ah. I forget you saw Jake downstairs. No, I'm a bit older than 24, Kevin. How old do I *look* is what I'm asking."
"Thirty-five," Kevin said, having no better ideas. He didn't really look that old, but maybe he'd be flattered.
Troy seemed genuinely shocked. "*That* old!" he said, with a slight cock to his head. "Are you sure?"
Kevin couldn't really hide it, and why bother? "All right, 31 at the oldest. Maybe 29." What was the point behind this? "I don't see - "
"Thank you," Troy said, leaning back in his chair with an air of satisfaction. "I was afraid my facial treatments weren't working any more." He smiled an amused smile and Kevin started to smile back before The Master took hold again. "In any case, Kevin, you're off by 30 years. I'm 59, Kevin, not 31."
Kevin didn't remember sitting down but he found himself on the floor all the same. Impossible! No 59-year-old man...! But like a dark rose blooming in his mind was the image of Ted, impossibly young... "How? Why?" he said, barely able to get the words out. Oxygen deprivation did that to you.
Troy was out of his chair and kneeling next to Kevin, his look not unkindly, and his body... Kevin kept his eyes above the neckline to keep the distractions down. The phoenix tattoo was very nice ink work, and the way it moved when... Focus! Troy spoke softly, almost tenderly. "I didn't want to tell you about any of this, Kevin. I thought it wouldn't come to this, but you're the..." He took a deep breath. "There isn't much story to tell. I was 59 years old and dying, Kevin. Yes, dying. Of AIDS. Relax, Kevin," he said, seeing Kevin's look of terror, "I told you it was impossible, didn't I? Will you please relax until you know all the facts?" Kevin nodded, not intending to but unable to distrust this man. But even so the panic was reaching the top of the tank and starting to run over.
"Five years ago, I... I was infected with HIV." He wasn't looking at Kevin at all; he was looking at some dark point in the distance. "The details of how are unimportant. You know how they say that if you take care of yourself and have a positive attitude you can survive? That's only for some people. Other people... other people are hit hard by the virus right off." He let out a sharp breath. "I went downhill fast. I lost weight, I... I was dying. Quickly. And for all my money, all the things in this world I've accomplished and acquired, I couldn't stop it." He closed his eyes. "It was the biggest failure in my life since Ritchie went off the cliff. I know that's unreasonable and self-pitying and I don't care."
He opened his eyes again, his expression miserable. "I did everything, Kevin. I exercised. I used herbs. I took steroids. I went fish-and-vegetarian for a while. I went on every drug and treatment plan known to humankind, including a few that are even now so experimental that they don't officially exist." He frowned almost angrily. "I remember the laetrile experiments particularly fondly." The bitterness in his voice was caustic.
Kevin, in the part of his brain that was not rocked, could sympathize. He had had an acquaintance that had had a normal T-cell count and good health, showing no overt signs of infection except for a slight loss of energy every now and then. Since he had such relatively good health, he was selected to go on an experimental laetrile derivative treatment designed to attack and destroy the virus. Unfortunately, he had an allergic reaction to the medication and died two days later. Later Kevin read that most people who had been on the laetrile derivatives had had similar reactions, and those that had not died had had their other symptoms go through the roof. The experiments were abandoned.
"I was very close to death, Kevin," Troy continued. "And then that day in November when Flight - " He stopped abruptly. "Then I met Jake," he continued as though he hadn't stopped. "He provided the groundwork by which the virus was removed. Yes, Kevin, the virus was removed. Not cured, removed. I could explain the mechanism to some degree, but I don't think that - "
Kevin cut him off. "Please do," he said firmly, and then blinked. He was certainly getting bolder since walking into this place. But then, it was all getting to be too much. Or was it the lack of baggage in his head? Except that something was still missing...
He thought Troy almost smiled, but instead he said, "What did I say earlier? Now you interrupt me." But he didn't continue the train of thought. "How educated are you about particle physics, Kevin?" Before Kevin could answer, he continued, "Do you know what a "tag" molecule is? What is the best way to destabilize and separate the subatomic particles of an atom or molecule without causing a nuclear reaction? What is a hyperspatial threshold and how do you achieve it without using acceleration? How do you use it as a shunt?" His voice became harsh and shrill.
Kevin stared at him. What? Kevin remembered failing physics in college and discovering to his relief that due to changes in his course curriculum that he could drop the grade from his transcript and wouldn't have to take it again. And that was the closest to understanding physics that Kevin had ever come in his life. If any of what Troy had just said was legitimate - it sounded like pseudo-science at best - it was still far beyond Kevin's education.
Troy closed his eyes for a moment. "Kevin, I swear you make me..." Again he took a breath. "You see? It would take years for you to understand enough of the concepts involved to ask the right questions, let alone understand the answers. Even *I* don't understand most of the physics involved, but I know a few things. You don't have the educational background to understand, and I don't have the time to teach you. I simply ask you to accept on faith that what I say is true: the virus is absent from my body. Even the antibodies are gone. I have had more tests done than I like to think about with the most sensitive instruments available to mankind. It is gone and I am not infectious. As to where it went, that's another topic."
Kevin wanted to believe. He wanted to believe this man, and he certainly wanted to believe now that they had exchanged body fluids, but this was too much. Kevin found himself backing away from Troy, scooting as far as he could on his abused backside and tired body. Please tell me this is a dream from which I will awaken. This isn't real.
What is real? his mind answered.
He got about a foot before the shaking started to take him over and he could progress no further. The tears started immediately afterward, and he sank downwards, curling into himself. He had been through too much, too many changes too quickly, too much upheaval, too much... I'm going to die. No matter what I do I'm going to die.
Not yet. Kevin ignored the voice.
He wasn't aware of the exact moment that Troy began holding and rocking him gently and speaking softly. "It's all right. You're going to be all right. You've been through a lot." His voice had been firm, threatening, malevolent, and neutral this evening, but now it was warm honey.
Kevin jerked away, knocking back the comforting arms that he wanted so badly (what?), the panic and fear flashing from internal to external. "Been through a lot?! Is that all that you can say? I've had my body and my mind manipulated since the moment I walked into this bar! I've been terrified, confused, near a complete breakdown and there's a good chance that I could die and all that you can say is I'VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT?!" Kevin knew he was losing it. His voice was a cry of anguish and mental exhaustion.
And Troy - The Master - who had an iron will, a mind of granite, a steely gaze - gave Kevin a look that surprised them both. He was hurt. It was an open debate which of them it surprised more.
Troy backed away and stood. His face was frozen. "Kevin," he began, but didn't continue. After a moment, he turned away from Kevin and stepped slowly toward the desk. When he was within reach, he stretched out his hand as though to take the dossiers still lying there, but when within an inch of them he stopped. Kevin wished he could see Troy's face because the man's hand was trembling.
"All right, Kevin," he said, and his voice was thick and hoarse. Perhaps he was more tired from their exertions than Kevin had wagered. "I understand that you're... not feeling well. And you need time to rest body and mind. I agree with that. I wish that..." He abruptly let his hand drop. "I will give you what you have wanted all evening long, Kevin." He looked forward and walked into the darkness. His voice echoed back to Kevin, now naked and alone on the floor. "I give you your freedom." And a dim trail illuminated the way directly from Kevin's position to the door, which had come back into existence and beckoned to the stairwell. The Master was not visible. "The door is open, and your clothes are on the landing when you choose to leave."
Kevin sat rooted to the floor. As abrupt as that? Why was he hurt? What about Ted? Or Jake? Or Troy himself? And, uselessly, questions unasked came bubbling up in his mind too late. "Leave?" He found it a difficult concept to master, as though he had never learned it before. Something was missing... things were *almost* right, but they were still wrong. He had the knowledge and awareness that had been missing all his life; what more did he need? "Now?"
There was no answer, no sound. He looked around and could see nothing else but the desk and the door and himself and the sling. Staggering to his feet - his gait was wide and hobbling, but he was up - he looked around again. Leave? Should I leave?
And when he realized what he had just thought, he did the only sensible thing.
He ran like hell.