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  “How does this exile deal work?” Mike asked.

  “They send some of the most incorrigible prisoners to these exile planets. The prisoners eke out a living, if they’re lucky. Some die sooner than others, if they’re lucky. If such a planet were viable, nobody would put prisoners on it. Space exploration and colonization is not cheap. You don’t get rich peddling trinkets. Explorers are looking for precious metals and high-end goods and services to make a lot of money very fast. Those who come after can peddle knickknacks and baubles.”

  “How are they going to get all the gay people in your star systems to go to this place? How are they going to find them all?”

  Kenton said, “If our government decides to devote a large part of its resources to this, it wouldn’t take long. On the tangerine planets those who engage in same-gender behavior are already kept in separate sections and need special permits to move about.”

  Joe said, “The bigger question is why the Sky Pirates want us exiled. And if Def truly doesn’t care, why send us there? What’s in it for him?”

  Ove was asking that very question of Def.

  Def answered. “I consider this debate to be mostly useless. I want his knowledge in a place where we all know where it is and where none of us can get at it. I believe the scientists on my home planets will replicate what this Earthling knows before the rest of you. I’m not worried about losing physical, military power to anyone. When we have come up with it on our own, we will be back in this council, and there will be more than six black-robed figures.”

  Xam rose, “Are we to take that as a threat?”

  “You may take it as whatever you wish,” Def said. “We all know that war is a waste of resources. As long as we have worlds to explore and develop, killing each other does not make us money. New discoveries lead to new wealth. Shifts in the make-up of this assembly follow accordingly.”

  Ove asked, “Has anybody tried to make a deal with him?”

  Bex stood up. “I beg your pardon.”

  “Everyone in this room heard me,” Ove said. “Let’s just ask him. Make a deal.”

  “No deal,” Cark said. “His violation of religious customs is a greater affront than his knowledge. No deal. That I know we have the votes to defeat.”

  “This is absolutely senseless,” Ove said. “Refusing to make a deal is against your own best interest. It is the simplest solution. What is wrong with you people?”

  Cark said, “We believe, and we follow those beliefs. Those of you who do not believe will pay, if not now, then someday.”

  Ove shook his head and sat down.

  The debate droned on. Mike, Joe, and Kenton stepped out for a bite to eat. The delegates were able to summon anything they desired simply by pressing parts of the key pad attached to their chairs. The audience had no such luxury.

  When the three of them returned, the debate droned on. When they left for the evening, the debate droned on.

  The room Mike was led to was like the one he had been in on the space ship.

  “I’m not going back to my prison?” Mike asked Kenton.

  “Not until they decide what to do with you. It’s too long of a trip for a daily commute. I will return to escort you to the debate in the morning.”

  “When do they stop?”

  “They don’t. Everybody stays until they have a solution. That’s one of the reasons things eventually do get done. It’s hell to have to stay there days on end.”

  Mike hugged Joe and kissed him goodbye.

  In his cell Mike paced for quite some time. He still had no reliable way of telling time on this new planet. Kenton had told him the day was thirty-one Earth hours long. Mike often felt the need for a nap in the middle of what was going on. Joe had told him the length of the day you were used to depended on the planet you were from. None of the planets in their confederation had uniform day lengths, but they all conformed to the same solar calendar developed on Hrrrm millennia ago.

  The wall disappeared, and he was brought a meal. They continued to serve him the gray, mushy Jell-O he’d had since the beginning. He felt worn out by the day and more tired than usual. His lightheadedness had returned during the long debate. He assumed it was just lack of food. If they were poisoning him with something, there wasn’t much he was going to be able to do about it. He ate the food. Then he paced some more.

  He thought about exile and the places on Earth and the famous people who’d been exiled. How bad could it be? Pretty bad, he imagined. He didn’t think the people on this planet did anything by half measures.

  Through the chaos he clung to his love for Joe and his memories of Jack and his mom and dad. Unbidden into his memory came the thoughts of the murder of Kazakel and the deaths he caused on the ship. He knew he was acting in new ways and thinking of himself in terms he’d never believed possible.

  Even all the strangeness of the universe could not keep him awake. He began to feel sleepy and signaled that he needed a washroom break. This time he didn’t get a room that rose from the floor. He was taken down the hall to a room the size of a walk-in closet. Fourteen guards waited for him outside.

  Inside he performed some necessary functions. As he pressed the now familiar buttons, he got a feeling that he was being watched. He wasn’t surprised that they would be monitoring him. He was very surprised when the wall opposite the door and just behind the interstellar commode disappeared.

  A complete stranger stood there. He wore a yellow tunic. Mike remembered that was the color that Ove wore. Mike saw that the man was about the same age as he and good looking. He smiled at Mike and held out his hand. “I am Vem, companion of Ove. If you wish to come with me, I will take you away. I cannot guarantee you will be safe. I cannot guarantee you will live through the experience. I cannot guarantee you will arrive somewhere that will be pleasant. I am sure someone has described to you the results of exile. No matter how they couch it in terms that guarantee your safety, on any exile planet you would die in a very short time. That you may take for a certainty. I can offer you a chance at life.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Time for explanations is short.”

  “It’s going to have to be long enough to satisfy me.”

  “Very well. The explanation is simple. We tried to take you on your journey here. Our understanding is several factions at least thought about trying that. A faction that had you would be powerful.”

  “But I made it alive.”

  “So far. Prisoners are always held in this area when they are part of a Senate debate. It doesn’t happen often, but often enough that the custom is inviolable. The room you are in is the most secure so logic dictated you would be held there. This is one of the oldest sections of our planet, part of the first tunneled and constructed. This is the nearest washroom to your cell. You would most likely be taken here at some point. When we knew there was going to be a debate, I was sent here to build a false wall in this room. I posed as a janitor. I have lived inside that little space for nearly a week.”

  “Why?”

  “I have studied Earth and the lives of gay people for only a little while. I think some of the people on your planet would call what I’m doing as being part of the international gay conspiracy.”

  “There isn’t one.”

  “Yes, but let’s not tell anyone that, shall we? It makes us seem ever so much more powerful especially if they think we’ve gone intergalactic.”

  “Ove is gay? You’re gay?”

  “As I understand your word, yes.”

  “Would he be exiled? Hell, if he’s rich enough to be in that council, wouldn’t he be safe?”

  “Perhaps. You, however, are quite valuable. If we get you to our world, you would be our prize, and while Def is undoubtedly right, that the knowledge you have will be replicated fairly soon, we cannot be sure. We would rather have you. We need you for a bargaining chip. This attempt to exile us has not all come up in a day. This government based on pure capitalism has numerous problems. The p
ersonal contract breaks down in the face of irrationality. Illogicality connected with sexuality seems to be universal. We have been fighting various attempts to harm us for millennia. There have been numerous persecutions. Many have died. This time, it looks like they may succeed. Your coming may have precipitated them into final action. Certainly the tangerine faction is going to try and enforce the laws of their home system on the rest of us.”

  “It’s my fault there’s going to be an intergalactic gay holocaust?”

  “Don’t give yourself too much credit. Stupidity and cruelty are universal constructs. Do you wish to come with me? I can promise you danger and perhaps death, but at least you would have a chance at freedom.”

  “Not without Joe.”

  “He is waiting for us.”

  “What proof can you give me that he is?”

  Vem swept his hand toward the walls around them. “He is not here. He is not likely to be here. I have nothing to gain. Do you have anything to lose? What power do you have at this time? You have one very powerful weapon. I’m not sure that’s as big a deal as you wish it were. The weapon is not what has kept you alive.”

  “I know I could be killed if somebody dropped a meteorite on my head. The problem now is Joe. I love him. I won’t leave without him again.”

  “He gave me a message because he said you would have a million questions and objections. I quote, ‘How many drag queens can dance on the head of a pin?’ What does that mean?”

  Mike knew it was a reference to a snarky comment Meganvilia often made especially when dealing with hecklers at his performances.

  “It means Joe may have gone native while he was on Earth.” Mike took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this thing.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  They scrunched into the tiny room where Vem had been hiding. The alien said, “We’re lucky this is a secure area. The walls are very thick, and none of the cells nearby are inhabited. If this were a regular prison, we’d be seen in less than a minute. Since everyone but guards is forbidden to come here, we have fewer people to deal with. They will not expect us to go through walls from room to room.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “I’ve had a week with my little magic communicator to remove small portions of old walls, put in fake ones while leaving disguised openings. We only have three walls before we will be in a corridor that should not be filled with guards.”

  Vem tapped on his communicator. The wall seemed to melt more than crumble. “We’re lucky this is built of omik. If this were solid rock, it would make horrible noise.” The opening took only moments to create. They had to turn sideways to slip through.

  As they exited the room, Vem turned back. He reconstituted the wall. “That will give them something to think about.” Through two more cell-like rooms, Vem performed this operation. He listened at the final wall. He tapped at his communicator. “I’m scanning the corridor to check for guards.” He reached under his tunic and brought out a package and handed it to Mike. “Put this on.” It was a yellow tunic.

  Mike swept it over his head as he spoke. He looked down. It covered him almost to the floor.

  Vem said, “It is unfashionably long but will serve the purpose of disguising you sufficiently from prying eyes. I don’t expect to run into anyone, but if we do, it may be enough. It is late, and people will be uninterested in the two of us, at least I hope so. What little I can do to disguise your implant and your resistance to ours, I have done. Follow me.”

  They set off at a rapid pace. They followed omik-lined corridors for what seemed like miles. Vem kept looking at his communicator as if he were following a map. They saw no one.

  “Where is everybody?” Mike asked.

  “Asleep. It is the middle of the night. The only activity in this sector right now is immediately around the Senate chamber. During the day this sector is filled with government workers, but it is night, and they do sleep. We need to worry about security patrols, but the schedule is known to us. We shouldn’t meet anyone.”

  They climbed broad, wide stairs and followed vast, sweeping, curving ramps - always upward. As near as Mike could guess they hustled forward for at least an hour. Their journey reminded Mike of the Fellowship’s trek through Moria although this was far cleaner, and he didn’t expect any orcs or a Balrog, or so he hoped. As they neared the top of one of the longest ramps, Vem held up a hand. He tapped at the face of his communicator, gazed at the display for several moments, then tapped again.

  “What’s wrong?” Mike asked.

  “Hush,” Vem said. He glanced left and right. There was no place of concealment nearby. He tapped again. “The alarm about you is spreading incredibly fast. There is a group of guards in front of us about a quarter mile.”

  Mike pointed ahead of them to the far distance. “There.”

  Vem said, “The planets of Arda conspire against us.”

  “Huh?”

  “Quickly!”

  They retraced their steps at a run. They took the first left turning and raced about fifty strides forward. Vem stopped in front of a blank wall. He tapped at his communicator. Mike could hear voices coming down the corridor down which they had just turned. With several last taps, the wall in front of them dissolved, not the melting of omik, but the way the walls of his cell on the ship traveling to Hrrrm had. They rushed through just as Mike saw the front of a red robed figure turn the corner. Vem turned around and the wall reappeared. The new corridor seemed to be made of the same material as everything else, but this one was darker, more humid, and had a peculiar smell.

  “What is this place?” Mike asked.

  “You would call it a back alley. It leads to the waste disposal tunnels. We won’t be going that way. Initial diggings and hollowing out of mountains are often followed with redevelopment. This is an old passage to the surface.”

  “The police must know every passage.”

  “They have the schematics. They could not immediately watch every junction of the regularly used passages. They are not universally powerful. Normal civilian walkways are not watched. There is no way that every street and alley could be put under surveillance so quickly. They would have to hire more people than live on half the planet just to keep a guard at every intersection. They will realize by process of elimination where we must have gone, but that will take time.”

  “If we weren’t seen by those behind us,” Mike said.

  “If we were seen, then we will be captured in minutes.”

  “Don’t they have cameras, sensors, or some kind of surveillance?”

  “Not in these unused, ancient sections.”

  They hurried forward. No one obstructed their way. The alley had an unused feel. Mike noticed pockets of dust. He wondered if they had spider webs on this planet.

  They trotted on for another hour, until Mike felt his legs begin to weaken, and still they went on.

  They came to a crossroads where seven tunnels met. Three looked dark and run down. Vem pointed at those, “We don’t want to enter them if we can help it.” He tapped at his communicator. “They’ve closed down every egress to the surface.” He tapped some more. “All the civilian and worker shafts are guarded. I wonder.” He tapped again. “If the original digging shafts are clear, we might still make it.”

  “How were we going to get to the surface if our way hadn’t been blocked?”

  “Ove’s transport vehicle would have taken us. No vehicles are permitted close to where you were being held. We kept one just beyond that perimeter, but the way to it is now blocked.” He pointed to the farthest right tunnel. “We’ll try this way.” They sped off. Fifteen minutes later they stopped at a corner. They could hear voices ahead of them. Vem tapped. “Guards,” he hissed. They turned and ran back the way they’d come. Mike’s legs ached. His side throbbed. Moments later they heard shouts behind them. They’d been seen.

  Thoughts of exhaustion were lost in the possibility of exile or death. He ran. Mike could hear the others gain
ing behind them. Whoever it was, they were unlikely to have been running for the past few hours.

  Mike and Vem paused for an instant at the seven-junction crossroad. Mike had never run so fast or so far. The stitch in his side pulsed and throbbed. Vem was doubled over. Mike let his blue glow encompass them both. He expected to fall unconscious as lack of oxygen overcame him at any moment.

  A voice behind them said, “Don’t shoot.” Snarls and curses followed this command. Mike’s hope rose. Maybe these guards didn’t have the most advanced weapons.

  Vem said, “I don’t know which way, and we have no time.” He plunged down the middle of the three darkest corridors. “You must turn off your protective shield. It will show them which way we’ve gone.”

  Mike complied.