Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2024 21:18:03 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 18 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 18: PIECING THINGS TOGETHER Previously, on the surface: * Lucas, over Seth's objections, accompanies Augie on a water-and-laundry mission. Under the influence of a violet dodecagon, Lucas rapes Augie; afterwards, Augie witnesses the dodecagon's collapse, taking Lucas underground. Augie discovers most of his clothes missing. * Jasper, a sex addict, struggles with temptation on the island. * Three days ago, a flight manifest was delivered to the tower, showing that all of their birthdays are in December. Underground: * Barry is forced to kill his co-pilot, Phil, who had previously been gelded. In Aruba: * Stimulever representative Sean O'Hara (Seth's former lover) reveals that the island and ZTA exist only in Betaworld, a test universe that Jordan and Miles were not supposed to be aware of. Jordan's straddling the two worlds was accidental; Miles's was part of Sean's plan to undo `The Project'. Miles reluctantly informs Sean of the location of Nick, the hacker, and Jen, Jordan's sister, who also know of ZTA's existence. Sean is in Aruba, sent there to `neutralize' Jordan and Miles; he tells Jordan his last name is Stimulever. In flashbacks: * Lucas is shown to be a serial killer and cannibal, along with his friend Stefan. * Ian (a `lieutenant' sharing quarters with left-sider Stan) reveals that he is part of Abe's past as well as Seth's. . * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH - Shit, Harry, how could I have let him go? - You couldn't have stopped him, Seth. You know how bull-headed Lucas is. But he'll be all right. He knows the way to the stream, and there are no dodecagons along the way. - There WEREN'T, Harry. But, coming back from the beach, I swear I saw one that hadn't been there before. - You think they can appear spontaneously? - Sounds crazy, doesn't it? - I'm not sure what crazy means anymore. But Tim and Dai went to the stream this morning and didn't see one. - Good point. And the dodecagon I saw was south of there. If Lucas and Augie followed our normal path, they should be well clear of it. - I admit, though, that I'll feel more comfortable once they're back here. - Me too, Harry. Me, too. - I hereby proclaim you an official member of the `Me, too' movement. THE WOODS – AUGIE My mind was still reeling. Lucas – who I could have sworn was straight – had been driven crazy by the medallion and had done something unimaginable to me. And then the medallion opened up like a crater and Lucas dropped out of sight. The ground sealed up all over him. Seth and Harry had been right. Paul and Leo had both vanished on their birthdays. And now Lucas. All three of them must be dead now. To top it all off, most of my clothes were gone. I still had my jeans, which I had worn down to the medallion where . . . THAT had happened. But my shirt and shoes had vanished into thin air. We'd left the group's laundry upstream a bit – I figured I could borrow someone else's clothes for the trip back to the tower. I walked upstream to pick up the laundry and stopped dead in my tracks. Those clothes were gone, too. Lucas's clothes and the underwear and socks we had so meticulously washed and wrung out to dry on rocks. I looked all around. Nothing. I guess it wasn't all that shocking – clothes had vanished before. But – I mean, this was ALL of our socks, ALL of our underwear. How could I explain what had happened? THE VIOLET DODECAGON / THE DARK ROOM – LUCAS I tell you – fucking Augie's sweet ass was sheer euphoria. Oh, baby, was he tight! And believe me, the kid is gay, whether he knows it or not. Afterwards, that dodecagon just sang to me. I HAD to hug that big violet phallus in the corner. Before I knew it, it felt like something was fucking me in the ass. I say `felt like' because there was nothing behind me. Yet the sensation was exactly like getting fucked. I know what getting fucked feels like. Even though I'm a natural dominant – and then some – I can bottom under the right circumstances. Stefan would fuck me when we celebrated an addition to our meat locker; it was our tradition. Sadly, our goal of surpassing Jeffrey Dahmer was never realized: Stefan disappeared eighteen months ago without explanation, just when our supply of Lancemeat was running low and it was time for another barbecue. I didn't have the heart to continue without him. Getting `fucked' was the first big surprise; the second was when the dodecagon opened up under my feet. I remember childhood cartoons where a bigwig in his office would press a button on his desk, and a trap door would open underneath some poor schmuck who was annoying him. I thought it was so cool, I wanted to push that button and send the hapless victim plummeting into who-knew-what. In cartoons, it was someplace harmless, like out onto the street. In my fantasies, he fell into a furnace or onto spikes. I didn't fall into a furnace. Somehow, I was on a chair with a dildo on it, which went straight up my ass. Such a landing after a thirty-foot fall should have ruptured my colon, putting me at risk of bleeding to death. Instead, it was like I had sat down and the dildo had sprung up to spear me. Uncomfortable, but hardly life-threatening. I couldn't see a thing in the total darkness. Oddly, I felt a total sense of calm. It was as if the chair was making love to me. I felt attuned to it, as if we were merged into a single entity. The dildo was like a welcoming committee, saying `Hello, Lucas, glad to meet you.' Would I be glad to meet it back? STAN'S CELL – IAN To my astonishment, I was falling in love with Stan. It was contrary to my interests. I was here to discipline – and have sex with – the left-siders, especially Stan, whose custodian I was. I was to make sure I fucked him daily. But I was uninformed as to why he was here, or what his fate was. The ZTA flights were spread out over three years, one every three months. I arrived a year ago, on Flight 8, along with eleven others. As a lieutenant, I saw – and fucked – those eleven guys, but, one by one, about a week apart, I stopped seeing them. Three months later, only Ysidro was left – the poor guy was getting shtupped ten times a day by me and other lieutenants. And then he wasn't there anymore. I knew we were in some kind of alternate reality. I had learned that much. So when the other passengers disappeared, I figured they'd been moved back to the real world – at least, that's what I hoped. I also knew there was an exit to the surface. I'd seen Percy use it. It was in a special room called the Egress Room. There was a passcode; if I could learn it, I could escape. IF I wanted to escape. I wasn't sure I did. Hamish trusted me, he liked me, he gave me privileges. Okay, he didn't reward me with information, but he kept me comfortable and I certainly had all the sex I could want. I had it good in a lot of ways. But I didn't want to spend the rest of my life here; I wanted life back in Cleveland, as much of an oxymoron as that might seem to some. Maybe I wouldn't have to wait too long – Stan had arrived on Flight 12. I had heard inklings that Flight 12 was "it", the one that mattered, the culmination of all that had come before. If that was true, maybe one consequence would be to send me back to my old life in Cleveland, and escape would be unnecessary. So what was different about Flight 12? 1. Percy was on it. 2. The pilot and co-pilot both showed up here – and the pilot had become Hamish's dog-slave. 3. None of the passengers had been made a lieutenant. 4. There were twice the usual number of passengers. The left-siders, twelve in number, included Stan and were all here; the right-siders – so special they were simply called "The Twelve" – were mostly on the surface, but a few had subsequently arrived underground. No one from any previous flight had spent any time on the surface. 5. Two people I knew were on that flight: Seth and Abe. THE THRONE ROOM – BARRY Hamish and Percy seemed comfortable discussing their plans openly in front of me. This was either reassuring or scary. Either it was a sign of their trust in me, or they had concluded that they could say anything they wanted, because I wouldn't be around long enough for it to matter. I was guessing it was a combination of both. - (Hamish) Heidekker has arrived. - (Percy) So now we're out of balance. - Yes. We need to reduce the number of left-siders by one. But that has to occur tomorrow – a day after the new arrival. - But the balls go today, right? - Yes, the balls go today. - Whose? - Boy! Oh, that was me. - Yes, Master? - (Hamish) Get me my tablet. I fetched it for him. He switched it on and fiddled with it for several seconds. - (Hamish) Here. Here's the schedule of castrations. Today it's Curtis. The next one's in two days – Antonopoulos. The one after that is Kowalczyk, on the 11th. Kowalczyk. His first name, I remembered, was Stan, and he was Polish. I had welcomed him to Hamishland in one of my official duties as Hamish's slave and dog-boy. Seemed like a nice young man – straight, I was pretty sure. And he's soon to lose his nuts – and maybe more than that? I was starting to piece things together. Whenever one of The Twelve arrived, a left-sider lost his nuts. I don't know why, but it was a rule – otherwise they would be `out of balance', whatever that meant. Like there was a limit on the number of balls Hamishland could have. Another lieutenant had told me that his left-sider roommate had disappeared the day after his castration. Hamish had made it sound like the left-siders would be set free – but maybe, like Phil, they were executed. Lord, I hoped not. I liked this young man, Stan Kowalczyk. Moreover, I knew that Ian – his custodian – had grown quite attached to him. Although Stan had always considered himself straight, it was possible he was actually bisexual, and might be attracted to Ian as well. I don't know if Ian knew about Stan's upcoming castration – and possible death. Ian's been here a while – a year – but from conversations I've had with him, it didn't seem like he knew about the castrations at all. And if Ian was fond of Stan, and found out what Stan was slated for, he would not be a happy camper. I'm going to tell Ian the next time I see him. Just to warn him. Six days from now, Stan's balls are coming off. Maybe Ian can influence Hamish, do something to prevent it. See – and you thought I was a bad person. THE PHALLIC TOWER – HARRY - My God, Augie, what's the matter? He looked terrible. And he had practically staggered back to the Tower bare-chested and barefoot. And alone. Carrying two water bottles, but none of the clothes he and Lucas had taken to be washed. - Harry, can we . . . can I talk to you privately? - This sounds important. - It is, I just . . . don't want everyone to know. - If it's important, Seth should know. - Yeah, well, okay. You can bring Seth, I guess. I gathered Seth and Augie told us his sad tale. - (Seth) He raped you? - (Augie) Shh. Don't say it so loud. - (Seth) And then you found your clothes missing. - (Augie) Except for my jeans, yeah. I wore them down to the medallion – - (Seth) The medallion? - The dodecagon. Augie calls them medallions. - (Augie) After he . . . you know, my jeans were still there and I put them on, but all my other clothes were gone. And so were Lucas's. And all the clothes we brought to wash. - Just like when Paul took off Dai's shirt at the stream and it disappeared. - (Seth) And Lucas disappeared underground. - (Augie) The medallion just dropped from under his feet like a trap door. And then it covered back up again, but it was just dirt, there wasn't any more medallion. - (Seth) I tried to tell him it was dangerous. It's his birthday, dammit. No one can leave this tower on their birthday. Who's got the next birthday? - Dai. Friday. - (Seth) Twenty-four hour watch on Dai. Someone with him at all times. - Lucas had someone with him, and that didn't stop anything. - (Augie) I tried, Harry. But you know Lucas – he's so stubborn. And he's stronger than me, anyway. That's why he was able to . . . - (Seth) Better make it two people with Dai at all times. At least on Friday. - (Augie) Seth? What do I tell people? I mean, no one has any underwear now. Or socks. - (Seth) They'll manage. They're all going commando at the moment, they can deal with it. Anyway, losing clothing isn't the end of the world. I stand here as Exhibit A. And what a spectacular Exhibit A he was. THE DARK ROOM – LUCAS Hands grabbed me. He – it was clearly a `he' – pulled me up and the dildo slid out of my ass as if it was gelatin. Moments later I was bent over something soft. And something quite not-soft was poking at my rectum. For the second time in under two hours, I was fucked – assuming you counted whatever occurred at the dodecagon as fucking, given that there was no person with me. THIS fucker was quite human. And he was grunting as he thrust his way into my inner sanctum. Instead of holding on to me by the hips, he reached underneath me and twisted my nipples as he drove himself forward. Just the way that Stefan used to. This guy fucked like Stefan did, too, it was bizarre. Rather than keep a regular rhythm, Stefan always used to do it in threes – one, two, three, then a beat, one, two, three, beat. I thought no one in the world ever fucked like that. It was uncanny. And, come to think of it, those grunts sounded a lot like – - Stefan? That can't possibly be you, can it? - I was wondering when you were going to realize it, Lukie. Welcome to paradise, my friend. THE PHALLIC TOWER – HARRY - Augie, just to confirm, you saw a figure on the dodecagon – a dragon? - That's what it looked like. - At the green dodecagon when it made you take off your clothes – - Please don't remind me of that. - Sorry, but it might be significant. You saw some kind of animal there, didn't you? - Yeah. A goat. - And when Paul disappeared I thought I saw a rabbit. - Yeah, so? - I think I need to find Dai. And I need another look at that flight manifest. THE WOODS NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER – DAI It's a medical condition, I'm convinced of it. Somehow I have about three times as much semen as the average man. Which means that when I cum, I cum forever. Most guys shoot their load in five to seven spurts. I can go on for twice that – once I counted seventeen. And it builds up practically instantaneously. After I wank,I can almost always go again immediately. This condition has only been exacerbated on the island. There's something incredibly sexual about this place. I don't know if these dodecagon things are the cause of it, or a symptom of it, but they're making guys' libidos go – you'll pardon the expression – nuts. Here, I have to whack off three or more times a day. It's embarrassing. In the morning, when everyone is taking their morning piss and crap, I do, too, but I also beat the meat, because it demands it. And I find a couple of other times to sneak away and spank the old monkey. It feels sooooo good when I do, but I'm in distress until I finally let it all loose onto the forest floor. Then I cover it up with dirt or leaves or twigs, in case someone finds the spot before it dries up. Today I got caught. My cock was hanging out of my pants – my underwear having been taken off to be washed – and I was stroking it as furiously as if I was rubbing two sticks together to start a fire. - Can I help you with that? OMG. I didn't even hear him coming. I rapidly tucked myself back in, still stiff as a rod, and turned around to face the intruder: Jasper. Who got all embarrassed, as if HE'd been the one caught whacking off. - Look, Dai, I'm sorry. It just came out. Force of habit, I guess. I just . . . can't help myself sometimes. - It's okay. I shouldn't have . . . I thought I was alone and . . . you know, this place, it does crazy shit to us. - Tell me about it. I . . . The irony is that I came here to forget about sex. - Huh. Poor choice of vacation spots. - Well, I meant going to Aruba. - That seems like a poor choice also. - That was the point. I had to surround myself with temptation and resist it. Look, I've been wanting to tell this to somebody – anybody – and maybe you're the guy, now that you have a secret of your own that, you know, I'll keep to myself, promise. - Uh . . . okay. - I'm being treated for sex addiction. I have trouble going two days in a row without sex. My therapist challenged me to go to Aruba for a week and not pick up anyone. I was even going to try not to flirt, which was maybe more of a challenge than I could handle. But if I found a cute guy who was interested, I was determined to flat out refuse. No way we were going back to my hotel room – or his. - That's admirable, Jasper. That must have taken a lot of courage. - And then I come here and I'm surrounded by hot guys. Even Harry is starting to look good. - Hey! Don't say that. I like Harry. - Sorry, I didn't mean to insult him like that. I like Harry, too. - He's gay, you know, Jasper, and I think he's probably been rejected most of his life. - The opposite problem from mine. Everyone always says `yes'. - Well . . . you are good-looking, Jasper. - As are you. If we weren't here – and if I wasn't on my chastity pledge – I'd be trying to get into your pants right now. But . . . I got the sense you were attracted to someone else. - (Whoa, where did that come from? Did he really pick up on that? I didn't think it was obvious.) - Paul, right? - (I guess it was.) - Yeah, Paul. . . . Paul's hot. Paul WAS hot. It's . . . it's hard, Jasper. - I can see that it still is. Oh, God, did I say that? Damn it, Jasper, get your mind out of the gutter. I'm sorry, Dai. Did you and he - ? - No. No, we didn't couple. I wanted to. I think maybe he wanted to. And then that horrible jockstrap thing happened to him and there was no freeing up his cock and – well, I didn't want to take advantage of that. . . . And now he's dead. - We don't know that for sure. - Harry says the ground swallowed him up. He was buried alive. Speak of the devil, here he comes. . . . Harry! Hi. What's up? - (Harry) Dai, hi. Listen, a couple of things. First thing. Lucas has disappeared. Looks like he got swallowed up like Paul was, and I suspect Leo was as well. - Holy crap. - (Harry) Indeed. Today is Lucas's birthday, Dai. Paul disappeared on his birthday, Leo disappeared on his birthday. Your birthday is Friday. - Right. I guess twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. - (Harry) I've talked to Seth, and he's – in military terms, he's confining you to quarters. Tomorrow, it's okay if you go out with somebody – like now, being here with Jasper, it's okay – - (Oh, Harry, if you only knew the real reason I was here.) - (Harry) But on Friday, you're not leaving the Tower. Other than for calls of nature. And even then you'll have chaperones. At least two. We have to protect you, Dai. You're not going anywhere away from this tower. - But if we stick to paths we know, we should avoid the dodecagons, right? - That's what we thought before. But Lucas is still gone. - Yeah. Okay. I got it. - One more thing, Dai. It's kinda related, but I'm not sure if it matters, beyond a curiosity. Do you know the animals of the Chinese calendar? - I'm Japanese, Harry. - I know that, but you're the closest thing we got. And I thought maybe – - Yeah, I do know them, actually. - There's a twelve-year cycle, right? - (Jasper) Are you asking because it's another twelve? - (Harry) Kinda. Augie was born in 2003. What year was that? - 2003. Let's see, I was born in 1990, the year of the Horse, so the next year of the Horse was 2002, which means 2003 was the year of the Goat. - (Harry) Shit. Lucas was born in 1988 – was that the year of the Dragon? - That's two before the Horse, which would be – yep, Dragon. - And I'll bet 1999 was the Year of the Rabbit – am I right? - Correct again. - (Jasper) What's this all about? I was born in 1989, year of the Snake. So what? - (Harry) Augie saw a dragon on the dodecagon before it got Lucas. I saw a rabbit on Paul's dodecagon. The one that made Augie go nuts had a goat on it. - You're saying - ? - Somewhere on this island, there's a dodecagon for each of us. And, Dai, yours is going to have a picture of a horse on it, and Jasper, yours is going to have a snake. I'm willing to bet that all twelve of us were born in different years of the Asian calendar. I'm 1995. What's that? - 1995, that would be. . . let's see . . . the Year of the Pig. Harry stopped breathing. - (Harry) Year of the Pig . . . I was born in the Year of the Pig. (Sigh) Of course I was. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA – JORDAN - So did you bring the list? - (Sean) What list? - You know damn well what list, Mr. Stimulever. The list of passengers on Flight 12. - So that you can initiate a class action suit against us. - We need answers, Mr. Stimulever. Miles and I are getting the runaround. Why isn't he at this meeting, anyway? - I met with Mr. King earlier. Now I'm meeting with you. - Divide and conquer? We're a team, Mr. Stimulever. You can't – - Sean. Please call me Sean. I don't want us to be adversaries, Jordan. He called me Jordan. He wants me to call him Sean. An obvious negotiating ploy to break down my resistance by presenting himself as a human being instead of the corporate shill that he is. I shouldn't play this game. And yet, he didn't seem like a corporate shill. And – I hate to admit this – he was a HUNK. To make matters worse, his eyes were sending signals that went well beyond `let's be friends'. Those were bedroom eyes. And, omigod, how I wanted to leap into his arms. In a bedroom. No, Jordan. Remember your objective here. Zen Tropical Airways – and Stimulever – had to be held accountable. I needed to get information from him . . . and then maybe we'd go out for a drink later. So what did I do? I smiled. Not a condescending, I-know-what-you're-doing smile. A genuine, I'm-attracted-to-you smile. - I don't want us to be adversaries either, Mr. Stimulever. - Sean. - Sean. I just . . . if you knew how frustrating it is to have lost someone you love, and no one – NO ONE – will explain what happened. How could a plane just disappear from the screen, not arrive, without explanation? The airport denies there was any incident, the press won't cover it. Other than Miles, I can't find a single person who will even acknowledge that Zen Tropical Airways exists. - That's because it doesn't. Well, that stopped me in my tracks. - Zen Tropical Airways doesn't exist? I flew on it. - True. You did. But it doesn't exist. - . . . If you ever want a new career, try going to Egypt. You could get a job as a sphinx, because you're talking in riddles. - (a smile, oh, god, what a smile) There is an explanation, but I'm afraid it's going to be hard to believe. - After all I've been through the last few days, I think I'll believe about anything – if it's the truth. - It's the truth. The first thing I want to tell you is that Augie is alive. I stared at him for a solid ten seconds. - Don't play games with me, Mister Stimulever. - Sean. I'm not playing games. Augie Stapleton is alive and well. - I need a drink. You'd better not be lying. - I'll make you a drink. And I'll take care of your mini-bar tab. Two minutes later, on the sofa, whisky-and-soda in my hand, I was ready to resume. - So where is he? Did the plane get hijacked? Was this all some kind of government coverup? That must be it! That's why no one will say anything – it's some kind of secret CIA plot and they've squashed all the authorities at the airport, and in the press – - Jordan. It's not a secret plot. I will explain. It will be better if you just let me tell it, and don't interrupt, and then you can ask your questions, okay? - (not really, but oh god, that smile again) Okay. - The next thing I'm going to say is going to sound ridiculous, so brace yourself, but I swear to you it's the absolute truth. - Lay it on me. - . . . Augie is in a parallel universe. I don't know how he interpreted the look on my face. - Jordan? Are you okay? - Oh. My. God. - What? - Jen was right. - Excuse me? - Jen. My sister. She said it – Miles and I laughed. Stimulever – it's an anagram for `multiverse'. - Your sister is a very clever woman. That's exactly right. - You told me it was a family name. - Well, for security reasons I can't reveal my entire name. It's all very hush-hush. We've initiated a project – in fact, we call it The Project – which has created a second universe. We call it Betaworld, because it's a beta test. - And that's where Augie is? - That's where Augie is. - I don't know why, but I believe you. . . . Can you bring him back? - It's not that simple. Let me try to explain. When your plane took off from Miami, everyone on that plane was pulled into Betaworld, yourself included. You existed simultaneously in two different worlds, each of you unaware of the other one. When you arrived in Aruba, everyone on that flight was returned to Alphaworld – this world, the one you've lived in all your life. But some passengers on Flight 12, including Augie, remained in Betaworld, and ONLY in Betaworld. - What? What do you mean, only in Betaworld? - Flight 12 existed only in Betaworld, that's why no one here has the slightest idea what you're talking about. Zen Tropical Airways itself – exists only in Betaworld. For the duration of the test – until New Year's Day – Augie and others on Flight 12 will not exist in this world. No one will even remember them. - But that's crazy. I remember Augie. Miles remembers Vic. - Yes, that's where things went wrong. You were supposed to be pulled back into Alphaworld with no memory of your experience in Betaworld. You would remember this as a trip with your sister, who left on Tuesday and you stayed the rest of the week by yourself. You didn't wear drag because you didn't need to, because you only wore drag to please Augie, and you never met Augie. He wasn't on that plane. He never even existed. - How do you know about the drag? And when Jen left? And – - Miles King told me. But you slipped through a crack in the firewall. You arrived at Queen Beatrix still in Betaworld, where Flight 12 DID exist, and you and several others mourned the loss of those on board. By the time we pulled you back, you retained your memories of Betaworld. Not knowing it was a separate universe, you thought that Flight 12 and ZTA existed in this, Alphaworld. - But Jen - ? - Jen was too close to you to avoid getting sucked across along with you. Her memories of Augie are starting to fade, now that you are separated. They will fade altogether once we pull you into Betaworld completely. In fact, she won't even remember you. - Excuse me? She won't remember ME, her own brother? - It's the only way, Jordan. And believe me, it's for your own protection. - . . . You're scaring me, Sean. - Good. You need to be scared. Stimulever wanted me to take you out. Not take you out on a date, although I'd very much like to do that. Take you out – permanently. - Are you saying they wanted to KILL me??? - That's what they sent me here to do. You and Miles both. And Jen, and Miles's friend Nick who hacked Stimulever. The problem is that you and Miles and Jen have straddled both worlds. And that throws off the physics. But if I take you into Betaworld, you'll be safe there. Miles will be safe there. Jen's memory of this trip will be that she had four lovely days as a single traveler in Aruba. Nick – well, I'm not sure we can save Nick. - . . . Why do you work for these people? - They don't know it, but I'm working against them, Jordan. I'm trying to sabotage The Project. Your accidental crossing into Betaworld may just give me the tool I need to blow this thing sky-high. You're going to have to trust me. I need to take you there. - What about Miles? - Miles is already there. You can see him when you cross. - And Augie? - Augie is not in Aruba. We'll discuss that later. - I want to see Augie. I want to make sure he's alive. I mean – how can I be sure you're telling me the truth? I mean, this is all so fantastic. - But it's not inconsistent with what the last few days have been like, is it? - Well, no, I guess not. But a parallel universe - ? - There's only one way to find out, and that's to let me take you to Betaworld. - And if I don't – or if you can't - ? - My instructions from Stimulever were to `neutralize' you. That means, they want no evidence of your conscious being in Alphaworld. If you are dead, that will satisfy their demand. If you cross the border completely, you won't exist in Alphaworld. That will also satisfy their demand. - It's the only way? - It's the only way. - . . . How do we do this? - (smiling) It's remarkably like the Vulcan mind-meld on Star Trek. . . . Okay, ready? - Ready. - Here we go. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER NINETEEN – CROSSING JORDAN]