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Thank you to Rebecca for her (very wise and helpful) beta, and spending some time on that.
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KELLER
518 bodies and blood everywhere, spilled on the floor, dripping down the walls, my clothes stained with it. Not mine, their blood, blood of the guys lying dead or dying, so many men that I had to step over them to make my way to Vern.
"Great job," he said, "Oz is ours."
What was left of the staff, Glynn, barely able to stand, a shaken Mc Manus, Murphy, bruised and battered and forty other guys had been gathered in the hall of the second floor, where the worst of the battle had taken place.
Vern was standing in front of them, enjoying every single moment of their humiliation, every single second of his own success and when he spoke, his voice sounded like a triumphant growl.
"Gentlemen, we're going to offer you a nice trip down," he said, smiling, "down to A4, where you'll find modern and comfortable facilities," his expression hardened, his tone did, too, "and you'll stay there until we get what we want from the Company."
When Glynn answered, his voice was weak but fearless. "That will never happen. Never. Devlin won't negotiate, he never does, you may as well kill us now."
Vern's smile innocuous, he said, "We'll see."
He pointed to the door and the prisoners were pushed out toward level zero where they would board a shuttle and they knew that was as good as being sent to their death. They didn't expect to survive for long, everybody knew that living on A4 for more than two weeks was sheer agony.
Later, after I'd managed to shower, I was standing outside the airlock, staring through the window as the guys were sending the bodies out of the station. Five hundred and eighteen bodies: four hundreds of them miners, 118 members of the staff, dressed no better than they were when they'd died, dried blood all over their clothes, some of them unrecognizable, their faces crashed… Some of them I'd killed myself. First they got rid of the bodies one by one, I could see their lips mutter a silent and awkward prayer, but later, when they got tired, they began to kick them out in the darkness surrounding us four at the time, and I could hear obscene laughs and jokes. I turned back and walked away, euphoria suddenly fading away.
I met Schillinger at the door.
"Good job you've done there, Chris," he said, patting my shoulder, "Just what we needed. I was right to trust you."
Yeah, sure, you trusted me just enough to use me like you did, but not enough to let me into the whole plan, you son of a fucking bitch; I'll pay you back for that.
"And now what?" I asked him as we walked to the elevator side by side, "What do we do next? Those guys from Mars3 will be here by tomorrow, and it will be a whole different situation this time."
"I'd bet they won't attack. Do you want to know why?"
"Yeah Vern, I'd like some details. I didn't have a lot of choice in what's happened and I'm not too happy that you used me, so you'd better let me on the gameplan now."
It wasn't a threat but I guess I sounded angry; I saw Vern frown and behind him, Robson took a step towards me, ready to fight. Fuck, I'd hoped someone would've taken care of the motherfucker; given the opportunity I would've done the job myself happily. Whatever was told later, the riot hadn't only been a "miners versus staff" fight, some good friends of mine had grabbed their chance to settle old scores; I had and I'm sure O'Reilly had too.
Vern's voice dragged me out of my thoughts, "Let's go sit down somewhere," he said, "I want to talk to you.".
We walked through the half-dark corridors, cold and silent like I'd never seen them, and sat face to face in Glynn's office.
"OK, now listen," he began.
He began to speak but above his shoulder, I spotted a dead man floating in front of me in the deep dark space outside the window. Twice the body bounced against the thick glass and finally floated away but before he disappeared, he seemed to wave at me and I shivered. Vern hadn't seen anything; he had his back to the window and anyway he wouldn't have given a fucking fly about that, probably just waved good-bye and laughed.
"I've decided that we'd live on optimised resources allocation," he declared, "which means we close all the parts of Oz we don't need, close every unnecessary access, turn down the heat and energy level to a minimum, close the hangars. I'll close the bar..."
I frowned. Bad idea.
"I wouldn't do that, Vern the guys need a place to gather and let go. If you close it, they'll find other ways to knock themselves out."
He watched me thoughtfully and after a while, nodded.
"OK for the bar but only three hours a day."
"Now tell me what makes you so fucking sure Devlin won't launch an attack?" I asked.
"Do you think they'd take the risk? Assaulting Oz would mean killing the men on Arcturus 4, they wouldn't live longer than us and if a ship tries to rescue them, I'll just cut down the energy supplies, they will die in two hours time. I don't think Devlin will dare, that would be bad for the EMC's image. He'll negotiate."
I didn't look very convinced; killing everybody didn't look like the best way to improve our own image but well, it was a little late to worry about that.
"And then there's your friend… Beecher," he added.
"Beecher? What about him?"
Vern chuckled, his expression became thoughtful, but his eyes remained cold under heavy eyelids… "I learned interesting things about your little bitch from Earth. Did he tell you about his father and Devlin being close friends, and his wife's parents being major share-holders in the company? Doesn't that make him the perfect hostage? What do you think?"
"Yeah, probably," I said, torn between relief and anguish.
"Yeah probably? Come on Chris, don't play dumb with me, I know you better, it doesn't work. I'll use the guy as a go between, he'll voice our complaints and our demands, and he'd better be good at that, because I'm not feeling very patient these days," he rose and so did I, not giving away the anger I felt, "but I'm sure you'll use your skills to make him… amenable, make him understand our point of view. Turn him around."
Amenable? From the way Toby had fought hours ago, that wouldn't be easy; it had taken two men to bring him down; win him over again would be a hell of a job and I'd already played most of my cards, I didn't have so many left, but as I took the stairs down to the hangars I kept telling myself that I could get a lot out of that one. I wanted Vern to succeed, free us from the company, take Oz over because the place was ours, no argument on that; but I wanted Beecher, I craved his touch, craved his smell, craved everything about him, I wanted to possess him, I wanted him to be mine and give up all he had to me, I wanted him to live –with me; and I didn't have a single fucking clue about the best way to make it work, so I decided I wouldn't try to plan anything, just act, trust my instinct as a hunter.
I grabbed a gun (who knew what I'd find on my way?) and walked down. I was crossing the main hallway when the sight of a body sprawled at the bottom of the stairs jolted me back to reality. I came closer, recognised one of Vern's friends, one of those who'd dragged Beecher away and that wasn't the best new of the day; I guessed that I'd find another body nearby, which meant Toby or someone else had killed them and that Toby was free somewhere, scared, crazy and dangerous, maybe hurt. Hurt? I felt my throat go dry. I turned at the left and the other guy lay ten feet further, his throat nicely slit, his eyes wide open –not such a loss, just one of Vern's bitches, he'd sucked my cock, once- so I stepped back, listening to the stifling silence surrounding me, stunning silence after seven hours of yelling, screaming, shooting; listening to the slightest sounds I could perceive, but I heard nothing and there was nothing else to do than start to search behind every fucking door, in every corner, in the depths of shadows, and find Beecher. Alive. Jesus, Please, let him be alive and well, I'd do anything for it.
BEECHER
After a while, in the middle of the fight, two guys had seized me bodily and dragged me away –that was about all I could remember- and later, I'd awakened alone and free, the men were dead, slaughtered, and I was unable to recall anything about it but I assumed that someone had grabbed his chance to get rid of them, probably for personal reasons. I didn't give a damn about who and why, I was just trying to find a way to survive, and I decided to hide in a small empty room and wait, hoping that I'd be forgotten, hoping that the situation would come back to normal, which seemed pretty hopeless. I was thirsty and hungry and scared, scared of what would happen when the door would open, scared of what would happen if it didn't, and my mouth got drier as I remembered, images of the riot dancing in front of my closed eyes.
From the very beginning of the fight, I'd felt something unknown take over –rage- and something inside me had died, the illusion of self-control, maybe, the veneer of a civilised education or whatever it was, and I'd begun to hit any man in front of me, miners, Vern's friends, bringing some of them down. But I'd been hurt and my whole body ached like hell, pain rushed everywhere, pulsing under every wound, every bruise, and I could barely breathe.
Sitting on the cold floor, I kept thinking about Keller slaying this guard, wondering if it had been planned. At the moment I'd thought he'd just lost it, but I wasn't sure anymore, it might have been a signal, a symbol, the sign that the time had come to stop bending over and taking it, that the time had come for the miners to fight for their rights. After all Keller had never tried to disguise that he agreed with Schillinger on some points at least, the most important one being that the mine belonged to the miners and that Earth was the ultimate shelter of a decadent and spoiled race of men.
Which game was Keller playing now? Schillinger's? His own? What would be his next move, which pawn would he try to push? Would he try to find me, or didn't he care anymore? Fuck, when I'd seen him at the door of the gym three weeks ago, I hadn't imagined I was facing a chess-player, I'd just thought he was hot.
It had been hours, when I heard them… Footsteps in the stillness of Oz, in the silence merely broken every quarter of an hour by the soft boost of engines and at first, it was more a sensation than anything else, something creeping up my spine, shaking me, a vibration along the metallic walls, coming closer and closer. Oh no, god, no, I didn't want that to happen, maybe it was Schillinger and maybe… The footsteps stopped just in front of the door and I stopped breathing. When the door opened, I blinked to adjust the unexpected light and saw a tall silhouette standing in the threshold and it was not Vern but still I pounced and we fought in the darkness, in the silence, our breath short and after a while there was nothing else I could do but surrender, he was too strong and I was too tired. I'd thought he'd knock me out but he wrapped me in his arms instead, keeping me still, trying to calm me down with words.
"Listen to me now…I'm gonna take you out of here, OK? It's freezing, and you're shaking. C'mon, Toby, let's get out, you'll be fine, nobody will hurt you, I swear."
I believed him. I didn't want to, I wanted to remain cautious and wary but his touch made me give up and I had no one else to trust, no one else to lean on.
He helped me out of the room but I was too exhausted to walk, too shocked. The place that had been crowded and noisy was now deserted, dim lights casting huge shadows onto the walls, our steps echoing through the silence endlessly. Suddenly the ground was swaying under my feet and my knees gave way under me before I could reach the elevator. I sat down, trying to clear my mind and Chris crouched in front of me, his face bruised where he'd been hurt, his eyes dark.
"Hey, how do you feel?"
His voice was soft and I hated him for making me feel so weak, I remembered how he'd killed that man, his feline deadly grace and I wanted to push him away but all I could do was ask, "How could you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Kill the guard, the one you slaughtered."
He watched me and sighed.
"Oh, that! I was so angry, and he was on my way, he meant nothing to me, nothing to us, nothing to anyone."
I felt something cold creep inside me and quivered.
"So you killed him."
"Yeah."
I leaned back, closing my eyes to deny that reality.
"Him and all the others. What kind of a man are you? Killing people like that? Does human life mean nothing to you?"
"Depends whose life. Yours does," his words sounding like evidence.
"I don't believe you. You just played the game you were asked to play, I'm sure you'd kill me as well."
His eyes darkened suddenly, anger flared and he let out a short angry laugh.
"Yeah? And who are you to judge? Come here to run away from the mess that's your life, take any dirty deal from the company, work out the best way to fuck up our lives and fuck me all the same, then give me a lecture about the value of human life's? Does that make you better than me?"
"I didn't kill anyone."
"If I'd been forced to leave Oz, I would've died, what's the difference?"
"That's one wicked logic, Keller."
"That's mine; I don't think yours is much better."
We kept silent after that, tense, watching each other like exhausted fighters.
"Let's get you out of here first. We'll talk later," Chris said.
"No way. I know you, I know how you intend to work it all out. That won't work. Not this time."
He grabbed my shoulders, groaning and pushed me, pulled me up, dragged me along the corridor until I was in front of the stairs.
"Look around. Take a fucking look around, Beecher. Do you know how long it's been since I've been in here?" he asked.
"Keller…"
"Twenty years. Twenty fucking years with a break every six months. I'll probably die here, or down in the mine and who cares? Do you care? Does the company care? No one cares and I'm tired of working my ass off for people like you," Keller's whisper was mesmerizing, I couldn't take my eyes off him, his mouth, his eyes, his muscles playing under his skin, "with your fancy houses, big cars, swimming pools, parties and all that shit. How long do you think you can keep me locked inside like that, fucking virtual girls in the bar? How long? Tell me?"
He pushed me back and I stumbled on the stairs, his hands catching me before I fell.
"Schillinger cares," he added.
"The fuck he does! Can't you see, Chris? He doesn’t give a damn about you or anyone, the only thing he cares for is power. Only power."
"And then what? Imagine it works, imagine he can do it, imagine this place is ours to run like we think it's the best. Does your friend Devlin has better to offer?"
"Devlin's not my friend."
"Oh come on, Toby, he's your father's partner, your wife's parents are his friends, who are you trying to fool?"
He was much too near now, I could smell him, feel his breath on my cheek, his lips hovering near my mouth; I knew he would try that and I knew how that would feel, how tempting and good it would feel, but I didn't want to give in to him so easily, didn't want to be the little slut from Earth who went down to his knees for the big beautiful space man, so I pushed him away, a hand on his chest, feeling a shiver run through him, hearing him growl and we rose together, face to face.
"What do you expect from me? What did Schillinger ask you? You're not just doing this out of lust, are you?"
Another growl. "Nobody asked me to fuck you the first time, I did it because you looked hot, that's all."
"Thank you, but that doesn't answer my question. What do you want from me, Keller? Just tell me. You don't need to put on that little show to have me all ears."
He pulled away and suddenly there was nothing left on his face, no lust, no warmth, just a cold blue speculative gaze and a thoughtful expression.
"What does he want?"
"He wants to use you as a shield and a go-between, thinks that Devlin won't dare send his little army if your life is at stake, he believes that your family will interfere and negotiate to save your precious existence."
He literally smacked the last two words in my face.
"And what do *you* think?"
He was different now, nothing left of the smooth operator I was used to, he was brutal and cold and even his voice had changed, nothing left of the lazy growl that sent shivers down my spine, now I could hear the determination.
"I think Devlin will kill us all. That's what he'll do if he's the man I think he is. He won't give a fuck about your life or mine, and he'll find an acceptable way to explain your death to your wife who doesn't seem too crazy about you, from what you said. That's what I think. But it's worth a chance. Worth trying."
I snorted.
"Thanks for thinking so highly of me!"
"You asked," he said.
"Your friend Schillinger would kill me as well, wouldn't he?"
"Not if I can stop him, not if you play our game."
I didn't feel like playing at all, all I wanted was to go back to Earth, see my kids and my wife again.
"C'mon, I'll take you to my room, you can rest there."
I fell asleep on the upper bed and slept there for two hours, until Keller woke me up.
"Time."
I met Schillinger in Glynn's office, the lights were low, casting shadows on Schillinger's grim face, making him look… dead. His eyes were dead, his voice was dead, he was scary and it was like being transported into another reality, twilight zone. He explained to me in his cold way what had happened to the staff, implying that I was a fortunate guy, and that he was the one who had made the decisions, then paused, probably expecting I'd thank him.
"Fuck you, Schillinger, you can as well send me down there."
"Ah, Mr Beecher, don't be rude," he said, losing his smile, "Life on A4 is very precarious, anyone on Oz will tell you that. And this attitude won't take you anywhere so let me tell you this: if your company sends us their armed forces, a lot of people will be killed and I'll make sure that you are one of them. Am I being clear, Mr Beecher?"
I nodded and the smile was back, cold and false, making him look like a ravenous crocodile but I listened to what he wanted and finally agreed to play the part I was assigned. The only thing I asked for was talking to my wife and kids to reassure them and Schillinger watched me for a while, then rose and walked past the desk to stand in front of me, arms folded, legs slightly parted.
"Beg me," he said.
"What? You need my help, I don't have to…"
He cut me short, impatient.
"Beg me, Beecher."
"Go to hell, I'd rather die."
I was proud of myself, proud of this little fight I was putting on, but the feeling didn't last, next thing I knew I was kneeling on the floor, Schillinger's boot on my neck, his cold voice stabbing my brain.
"Beg me."
"OK, OK, I beg you. PLEASE, allow me to talk to them."
"Now that's better. Let me think…" It seemed to last for hours then the boot withdrew. "Permission granted, Mr Beecher."
I got up to my feet, swaying a little, my face burning with shame, and stumbled outside.
"You know, Toby, you shouldn't play those little games with him, it's dangerous," Chris' voice said behind me.
"You were there?"
"Of course I was. I'm your official keeper, now. Nothing happens to you out of my presence. Does it comfort you?"
The amused tone in his voice made me want to kill him.
"You motherfucker… You let him take me down, hurt me? Does it turn you on too?"
He turned on his heels and gave me a long hard look, then shrugged. "Come on," he said, "it wasn't so bad, he didn't even hurt you, didn't lay a hand on you. Let's go now, we'll try to get in touch with your wife on Earth."
I stood there stunned; watched him turn away and head for his room.
That's what it took, facing Gen and the kids, to realise how far I was from everything or everyone I knew. Far from home, from my family and my usual self. In spite of that I tried to behave normally, asked the questions I was supposed to ask, I did it for the kids and Gen –Harry and Gary seemed pretty excited about the kind of life I was living, Gen had said nothing about the riot and the threat hanging above us but Holly… Holly kept her mouth shut and her eyes locked on her mother's hands. I don't think Gen was aware that she kept wringing her hands in worry but Holly had noticed her mother's nervousness and guessed what was left unsaid; when she spoke, her voice was shaking.
"You're going to come back home, aren't you? We miss you."
I nodded but couldn't speak.
"Is somebody looking after you, up there?"
I felt Keller's presence behind me, hidden in the shadows, heard him sigh. "Yes Honey," I said, "Someone's looking after me."
Was it true?
After that, I was alone with Gen and I explained my situation. She listened to me carefully, looking worn out and older, suddenly.
"Oh God, Toby, what are we going to do?" she asked, and I noticed how pale and worried she looked, much more worried that I'd ever seen her before. I smiled at her, trying to reassure her and she smiled back, a weak little smile, trying to look brave. I should've felt love or compassion but for a second, I remembered that her stubbornness was the main reason why I was here and I felt nothing at all but I said what I was supposed to say in such circumstances.
"I'll work it out, Gen, I promise. I'll be back soon."
She nodded and turned to the door; I saw someone walk in and I'd never thought that Kareem Saïd's presence could mean that much to me, I'd never imagined I'd see so much affection and worry in his dark eyes, so much warmth in his smile, find so much comfort in his words. Probably not the best moment to realize what we meant to each other, how much we cared, just when it was too late and I remembered my suspiscions about Saïd and my wife, that they could be lovers. How stupid was that? Behind me, Keller shifted. I smiled to Saïd as he sat gracefully, like some exotic sovereign, his head held high, and his eyes… They were burning my soul.
"Tobias, my friend, I'm very happy to see you alive, although I can see that those faithless men didn't spare you. I'm sorry for that. Did you fight back?"
"Yes."
I couldn't say if he was satisfied or not, he just nodded, but I felt proud.
"Would you explain again what you're supposed to do?"
I did, he listened, and then I was talking much more that I had intended to. Before the communication was broken, he leaned forward, and his eyes seemed to shine like burning coal.
"Don't forget, my friend. Human life, all and every bit of it, is precious to God. Your main preoccupation must be to act in this purpose. I wish you well, Tobias. God will be with you during the hardships you're going through. You'll be in my prayers."
I felt tears in my eyes and I wanted to say something but the image faded away and I just sat there until Keller called me, bringing me back to reality.
We walked back to his room and when we were inside, the door closed, he spoke.
"Do you fuck him too?"
KELLER
Later in the evening Beecher had a little chat with Devlin, telling him what we demanded, amnesty, freedom, the right to run Oz ourselves, and a sharing in the mine's profits; I was hiding there, listening, watching, making sure Toby wouldn't do or say anything stupid, wouldn't betray us, but he did good, a very convincing sacrificial lamb, thinner than when he'd arrived 3 weeks earlier, looking weary, his voice breaking sometimes in the middle of a sentence… Yeah, he was perfect. Devlin though didn't seem convinced that sparing our sorry lives would bring him any advantage –I could understand that- but it sounded obvious to me that he was concerned with Beecher, in spite of what had happened and that Schillinger had been right. Maybe Gen's parents, Gen herself, had found the right words, maybe Toby's death would be something rather difficult to explain, a failure for the company, added to the death of the rest of the staff.
After that we didn't talk much, I didn't try to approach him –not in the way I had before. I couldn't help thinking about that man, Saïd, I felt angry and jealous but when I asked Toby if they'd fucked, he stepped back, and gave me an offended look.
"No. Of course not. Do you ever stop to think about sex, sometimes?"
"Not when it's about you, Beecher. You seem very eager for comfort, any kind of comfort, from anybody."
Toby gave me that "don't be stupidly stubborn" look and said, "He's just a friend."
"He didn't look at you like a friend, he fucking well looked like a lover to me."
He sighed, threw his hair back, watching the ceiling.
"Look, Keller, this … bond between us, this friendship, it's purely spiritual…"
"My ass!"
"Saïd is a believer, he's a guru, he considers me as… as a follower. There's nothing sexual about it."
"A follower? Is it what you are?"
"My wife is, and he considers me as part of his sect because I'm her husband. But I'm not; in fact I don't believe in any god."
I looked at him and the picture was quite clear now: stroked the right way, mind or body, Tobias Beecher would surrender to anyone, love anyone, anyone who'd be kind to him, period, and I didn't like that, didn't like the idea that I probably shared him with many others and in particular Kareem Saïd. He was meant to be mine, I thought stubbornly, only mine.
"I'm a Christian," I said, "I'm a catholic and I've known some people who considered me as a disciple and who cared for, let's say, my spiritual life, and none of them, absolutely none ever watched me like that man… Saïd… did."
"Does that include Vern Schillinger? Because he sure as hell *is* a guru, and he sure as hell looks at you *that* way."
Arrogant bastard. I glared at him and didn't say anything else, eventually left him there, locking the door, protecting him against any unwanted intrusion, although he seemed to think I was imprisoning him in this tiny room which looked so much like a cell, and went down to the bar to meet my friends. Maybe I'd find someone to fuck, there. Schillinger had cut the energy supplies very low, which meant no more porn cabins, no more virtual girls, but there were still men there, some of them young and attractive and if Tobias Beecher didn't want to fuck me because I couldn't live it up to his moral standards, some others were quite happy to take my dick up their ass.
When I stumbled back inside the room, he was huddled up on his bed against the wall, looking pretty lost. Oh fuck, I couldn't stand the way he looked and all the alcohol and sex induced drunkenness vanished.
"Need anything?" I asked as gently as I could.
"No, thanks."
Huh, huh, where was the cocky Tobias Beecher gone?
"Do you think it will work? That Devlin will agree to negociate?"
"Hey, you're the one who knows him. What do you think?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. I met him once or twice years ago, I don't think he even remembered me before I fucked it all up, so… If I was him…"
"Hey, hey, you're not him, OK? Now let's get some sleep."
I thought maybe he expected me to jump him, but that wouldn't happen, not that night, I would make him wait, I was tired of making the first move. This time, Tobias Beecher from Earth would have to overcome his pride and ask for it.
I heard him shift in his bed for a long time and fell asleep before he did. In the morning he looked like shit but I didn't feel any guilt, just the sweet taste of triumph and that nice feeling lasted until I looked through the window in the meeting room.
"Oh God!" Toby muttered, taking a step back.
"Yeah. Nice view, huh?"
That was unusual and frightening. In front of the station, deployed between A4 and Oz, a dozen ships, silver birds, giant wasps were poised on the edge of an attack, enlightened by the orange halo emanating from the planet. The company's private mercenaries.
I heard Vern's voice from behind, talking to Toby.
"Looks like your friend Devlin likes to display his power."
"I take it he refused to negotiate," Toby said, leaning forward and pressing his palms against the window.
"Not really. He did accept but he set out some conditions, your freedom being the most important one. Of course we refused."
He turned to Vern, eyes narrowed.
"'we' refused?"
"Yes, Beecher, we held a general assembly early this morning and we voted against your release. Unanimously."
"Thank you so much for that!" Toby snarled, turning to him, then to me.
"You're welcome. We need you here and we wouldn't want to lose you. I'm sure Keller would hate that."
Vern gave me a wicked smile and I hated him with all my heart. "So instead of you we proposed to send them back the medical staff."
"Did they agree?"
"That we don't know yet. But obviously, they're putting us under pressure and that's something I don't like."
"What do you expect? Do you expect them to let you run this place and create some… independent state on Oz? Do you know who you're dealing with, exactly? Devlin is the nastiest bastard I ever heard about; he won't let you get out of here alive. He'll find a way to fuck up any plan you could have."
Vern gave him an amused glance.
"Well, Mr Beecher, looks like we have more in common than we thought. This is another reason why I won't let you go, because of this… intimate knowledge of the company. If we succeed, you'll succeed. If we die, you'll die. Does that make sense?"
He didn't wait for any answer, just turned away and walked out, leaving us there gazing outside.
"I hate him. I could kill him," Toby said softly, "how can you stand him?"
"Do I have a choice?" I asked, suddenly struck by the bitterness in my voice and realizing how tired I was of all that shit. I wanted to be back down, in the depth of the mine, alone, surrounded by the ore shining through the darkness, lit up by the light of my safety lamp. I rested my hands on his shoulders and he didn't push me away.
"Do you think they will attack?" he asked.
"I don't know."
On the same day, Saïd's sect called for a special prayer, begging their God to shed some light into the overheated minds of the people on Oz and into the air-conditioned offices at the top of the EMC building in New York; all over Earth people assembled in parks and kneeled to pray, in front of the cameras, and Saïd was asked several questions about Toby and the company and the mine, answering each of them with a mix of passion and wisdom… I hated him, hated the way Toby watched him.
A few hours later Mother Pete Marie gathered everyone inside our huge cathedral in the center of Mars3 and spoke for two hours, describing in her own words the miners' miserable lot, reminding that Christ had fought and died for those who suffered, refusing to blame us too hardly for the deaths, because according to her we'd been pushed to the limits of our endurance; listing the numerous ordeals that we had to go through. Jesus, she was one hell of a woman, I was sure she was directly talking to me more than once. This speech delivered in front of thousands people, all of them having a son, a husband, a father, a member of their family working for the company had a huge impact all over the new world and during the whole day, Mars3 experienced the worst riots of its existence, forcing Devlin to promise publicly that he wouldn’t attack.
The Miners' General Trade Union, though, kept an astonishing silence. I didn’t like that; it appeared to me that maybe Schillinger had caught everyone off guard and that the Trade Union didn't know how to react.
But who cared? We were still alive.
In order to show some goodwill, Vern decided to free 20 members of the staff, but Glynn, Mc Manus, Murphy and some others were kept as hostages, taken back to Oz and locked in a warehouse of the lower floor. Vern allowed me to keep Toby in my room, I'd insisted on that, using every possible means to convince him –even getting on my knees again wasn't too much. I can't say that earned me a lot of gratitude from Toby, but any good hunter knows the importance of being persistent.
"Hey, see the bright side of things, Toby, you'll be a hero!"
Much later in the evening, we were sitting in the bar among the crowd of miners, celebrating, drinking some dubious booze they called whisky there and I could see Toby's look roam over the place, taking in every detail, careful not to stare to the men's face, aware that they would take it as a provocation.
"How comforting!" he said, snorting and watching me, "But you know, being a dead hero doesn't look so appealing, I'd rather be an ordinary and very alive guy."
The bar was unusually quiet, I could feel the tension, the guys were talking, heads bowed, arguing.
"Is there anyone here to say that Schillinger is crazy?"
"Some of them may think it but what's the alternative? We're trapped here and he's the best chance we have."
He shook his head.
"I can't believe that. You'd do much better."
I felt stupidly proud at that and I was about to answer something when a shadow fell between us and fuck, fuck, fuck, O'Reilly was the last one I felt like talking to right then, but of course he ignored my glare and sat down between us.
"I've been thinking of something," he said, "we should have someone from the Earth TV channels having a little chat with you, Beecher."
"Yeah? We'll talk about that later, O'Reilly," I snarled, giving the guy my most dangerous smile.
"Hey, K'boy, there might be no better opportunity. Listen, we call some hack-writer from Earth, tell him that our hostage's ready to testify about how we live up here… We need some popular support."
Just by the way he looked at O'Reilly, I could say that Beecher was interested.
"Do you think so? I know a few people in the media, old friends from the university, some of them work on the galactic channels… guess they'd like a bit of a scoop."
"Hey, great! You give'em a call, and that does it!"
Beecher's eyes were sparkling as they talked about it some more and at the moment, I felt like killing anyone who managed to keep Beecher interested.
"Yeah, and what about re-opening the mine? I get bored here," I said, "and anyway, I think we need to show our willingness… Show the bitches from the company we're real men, workers, more than they'll ever be, and that we deserve to run the place more than they do."
Beecher glared at me.
"I didn't think you were getting so bored," he said in a tight voice.
"Yeah, well, there are not a lot of things to do on Oz. And since I can't get what I want I could as well go back to work, ya know."
O'Reilly gave us a measuring look and rose to leave, his usual grin giving nothing away.
"OK, I see the two of you got some stuff to discuss, so I'll just let you. We'll talk tomorrow, Beecher."
"Yeah," I said, "if we're still alive. I don't trust Devlin that much."
"Not very positive, huh, K'boy? You should relax, we're not dead yet. See ya later, maybe."
"So you're bored."
Toby sounded pissed off.
"Yeah."
"Am I supposed to keep you entertained? Fuck that!"
And suddenly, I just couldn't stand it anymore.
"And fuck you, how long are you gonna play this game, you bitch, what do you think you're doing, keeping me waiting like that, playing hard to get? Do you think we can afford this, teasing each other, pretending to ignore how much we want each other, fucking with each other's mind? We're not in some fucking club of yours, we're on Oz and from what I understand, nobody would bet a single buck on our sorry lives! Wake up, Toby!"
He watched me, stunned, opened his mouth and shook his head again.
"I can't believe that. It's still about sex, isn't it? God, don't you ever happen to think about something else?"
I rose and my chair fell. I was so angry, I think I could've hit him.
"Yeah, you know, I'm just a slug… Don't have much of a brain, everyone knows that."
I'd reached the elevator when he grabbed me from behind, caught my arm.
"Wait, wait, wait," he said, breathless, "I didn't mean that."
I pushed him away roughly, my eyes burning.
"Leave me the fuck alone. Find yourself someone else, someone who matches your intellectual standards, I'm gonna jerk off in the toilets, that'll be OK."
He pushed me inside the elevator, shoved me against the door.
"I don't think so," he said with a smile, and then he kissed me.
Maybe I could give him a second chance, after all. I pushed him away slightly, catching my breath.
"Hey, stop that, Toby. If you keep this up, we won't even make it to my room."
BEECHER
We'd collapsed on the bed after sex, exhausted. Oh God that had been the best fuck I'd ever had, kind of stuff you only dream about, tender and rough, soft and hard, our bodies sealed by pleasure, and love and Keller's tireless quest for more. We'd fallen asleep all sticky and wet; Chris' body spooned around mine, his hand wrapped possessively around my spent cock, his dick half hard against my ass when they knocked on the door. Chris' body tensed.
"Hey, K'boy, open the door, the guys and us we have to talk to you."
Chris jumped off the bed, pulling the covers over me. "Don't move," he said before walking to the door, unlocking it, letting the visitors in. Stark naked, Chris watched them one by one and sighed.
"OK, I'll dress if you don't mind," he said, putting down the gun I hadn't even seen him grab and putting on his clothes, cool and detached under the men's patient look.
"OK, so what is this all about?"
"Yeah, well, we've been talking," a younger guy said.
"Talking? I know a better use for your mouth, Ronnie boy," Chris snarled back and the guy grinned and blushed.
"Most of the men are not sure that Vern's making the right choice. The confrontation, the violence... They think he's leading us to a disaster, and nobody here feels like becoming a martyr. Most of us don't wanna go on."
Chris sat down on the edge of the bed and I crawled back against the wall, in the shadows, listening.
"Most of us? What does that mean?"
"I think…"
"No!" Keller's voice was cold and hard. "No you don't just "think", O'Reilly, or you're out of here. I want some certainties to hold on to."
O'Reilly nodded and raised a hand.
"I'd say 80 % of the guys want to negotiate. We have to get rid of Schillinger."
"Kill him?"
"Yeah, kill him, if we don't have any other choice. I don't think we have."
I could hear Chris' breath, slow and quiet, as he thought the situation over.
"We have to do it fast," O'Reilly added.
"Devlin will launch his attack as soon as he knows about it."
"Maybe not," a black guy said, "maybe we could use your… friend… some more. Like Schillinger wanted to. To protect us."
Chris didn't answer, I couldn't see his eyes, he had his back to me. "And what about the Trade Union? What do they think about all that?" he asked.
"I talked to one of the guys in the high spheres on Earth" O'Reilly said, "He was a bit… stunned and worried by Schillinger's behaviour, he told me that had nothing to do with them, they were just backing Vern because he's a member of the syndicate, but from what I understood, they're pretty mad at him. If you take the lead, he'll talk to Devlin."
"Sure," Chris' voice was low and thoughtful, "Promises are easy to make. I don't trust the Trade Union, Schillinger's death could make a martyr out of him. Good for the fucking MGTU."
"But if we let Vern free to lead the thing, we're guaranteed to die, and your guy, Beecher, first of all."
"Yeah, and you shortly after, Adebisi."
"I don't fear death."
"So why don't you follow Vern?"
"Because I was born on Earth," the man said in the same arrogant voice.
Chris nodded.
"OK, let me think about that for a while."
When we were alone he turned to me.
"You'll have to talk to Devlin. Find a way to make him wait."
"Chris, you're not going to…"
"Yes I am. They're right and I won't let Vern fuck up my life once more."
"Why you? Why don't they get rid of Schillinger themselves?"
"Because they trust me, because they know I can come near Schillinger, near enough to kill him."
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. "Listen Toby, there's something I wanna tell you…If I fail, I want you to remember… I love you."
"I love you, Chris."
We stood like that for a while, drinking in each other's warmth and scent, locked in each other's embrace.
I saw O'Reilly at the door, waiting, silent.
"Go with him, Toby. Try and contact everyone you can on Earth… Journalists, Devlin, your friend Saïd… We'll need all the help we can get."
I nodded.
"No weapon?" I asked and he smiled.
"I won't need any."
He took three steps to the door and turned to me once more.
"Remember what you asked once? As soon as this is over, I'll take you to the green house and fuck you silly."
He smiled and I watched him walk away through the corridors of Oz with the heartbreaking feeling I'd never see him again.
TBC...