XY-n XIII (13) : Apocalypse

Do you remember me? ‘Cause I remember you…
-Roger Daltrey, Under a Raging Moon, title track

It was many months before they heard anything again. The remaining two spies were found, but both went mad when confronted and killed themselves. Xyn recovered quickly, thanks to his Suit, and forced Tym back into it. He took to wearing Jayk’s old tunics, which fit well enough. Yet as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turning into months, the young Psion grew more and more withdrawn. When the Hunter left the Group Mind session with Tym, Xyn had turned off his Psi completely and discarded it, secretly despairing of ever seeing Jayk again. On more than one night, he awoke screaming from nightmares of being chased and searching for Jayk. Had it not been for Tym, he would have certainly gone mad. -from XY-n XII.

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat upon him was Death, and Hell followed with him.
-Revelation 6:8, The Holy Bible, KJV, aka The Apocalypse of St. John

In the time that passed as Summertime gave way to Colorfall, which in turn yielded to the cold and windy days of Whitetime, the World moved on around the Ruins. Hunters continued to roam the allies and darker corners of the New Cities. Dealers continued to sell off the little ones and Runaways that were brought in, and the Facilities continued to supply Approveds with such little ones (or their Parts) that did not go to the Dealers. Those fortunate enough to be fertile and free of Mutations and Defects continued to reproduce, despite the ravages of the few Remnants and Leftovers of the BioGenic Wars. The numbers of Approveds and Unapproveds alike continued to increase, and there was some hope that Humanity itself was finally on the path to fully rebuilding its Civilization.

It was in the Ruins, however, that things did not simply ‘move on’. In fact, it was the rumored goings-on of the Ruins that led to the plethora of stories on the Networks and Broadcasts that something was wrong. During the Summertime, two more Transport ships had gone missing near the Ruins, one of them reportedly carrying weapons and small assault craft bound for the Eastern Zone Defenses. Another vanished near the onset of Colorfall, and with the first blizzard of Whitetime came the disappearance of a major shipment of consumables. It soon became almost impossible not to walk into a public place and not overhear a conversation, which was pure conjecture, about what was going on ‘in there’. Added to the growing mystique surrounding the ‘death’ of THE Hunter, the rumor mill was kept quite busy.

Some speculated that the Government was building a secret base from which to launch attacks of conquest upon the rest of the war-ravaged World. Others dismissed it to bad planning, technical failure, or inside corporate theft. Still others thought that it was probably some conspiracy to try and stimulate the faltering economy. Some even thought that there were indeed Mutants and Outcasts hiding in the Ruins, and they were arming themselves to wage their own war upon the rest of Society. Many more wrote it off to a media conspiracy, however, in an effort to boost ratings and promote the various gossip channels of the Network. There were even a few groups who held tight to the notion that some kind of intelligent viral software – sentient perhaps – was loose on the Network and causing it all. Soon Mutants in general, and THE Hunter in particular, became the stuff of urban legend.

One thing that it did accomplish, all things considered, was to bring more attention to the plight of the Unapproveds living in the Old Cities and how unfairly they were being treated. By the time that the Unification Day Festivities were being planned for that Cycle, it was very nearly impossible to log on to the Network or watch any Broadcast that did not have some heated debate going on as to who had what rights as Approved or Unapproved and who did not. Various Unapproveds, with proper Permits of course, argued their points to the World. The World listened, and then interrupted so often by strange news events such as the disappearance of yet another important shipment or a HUNTER sighting, began to listen.

The Populous began to take notice of the fact that it was getting more and more difficult to find Parts replacements for their own Defective little ones, and that Maintenance for the older Approveds seemed to be getting more expensive and harder to get done. The Unapproveds countered these complaints with the fact that they were lucky to even survive to the age of thirty, and in that time had to dodge the complexities of Permits, Registrations, and harassment from Hunters. The Approveds agreed that such treatment might be a bit much, but they had no answers for the questions of their own Maintenance and Parts needs. The subject of the REAL purpose of the many Facilities that dealt in pure Bio little ones was then called into question on National Broadcast and for the first time since the Unification, the Government of Kadens the Unifier was called upon to explain and defend its various policies.

None of this mattered to Xyn, however.
While the Flats were being scorched by the oppressive heat of Summertime, he was running and scavenging in the seemingly endless underground tunnels where it was cool. When the near perfect season of Colorfall was approaching and more Transport ships were being downed in the Ruins, he was journeying to the Forests to find food as Jayk had taught him to when he’d first arrived there. No one questioned his refusal to aid in the raiding of the downed ships, and Xyn neither took anything useful nor ate anything that came from them. Weather permitting, he also ran the uncountable sets of stairs in the old buildings, up and down, until his lithe and hardening young body was screaming for rest. Sometimes he would give his well-developing form that much needed rest on the roof high atop of some long deserted building where no one else dared go, staring off into the distances and lost in thought. No one followed him up there, and other than Jayk, he wondered if anyone had ever been up there before. He mentioned it to no one, however, and spoke less and less often to the others.

Sometimes, his Psi shut down and almost forgotten in some dark corner of his Mind, he would simply lay there and muse at the notion that the old buildings reached to the very clouds.
They didn’t.
Often he would look to the South from his lonely perch and cry.

Chriss, the Pyro Mutant, was just slipping out of his ragged short pants and getting ready for bed when he heard a Voice in his Mind. He doubled checked his limited Psi to be sure that he wasn’t imagining it. It had been a very long time since he’d heard that gentle whisper in his Mind, and even longer since that whisper had ascended to a roar and knocked him over. He shook his head, his long white hair loose and flowing out behind him. He stretched, the pale skin of his naked and trim body beginning to sweat as he heated up. He listened harder, pondering things that he’d said in the past as the Voice came again.

Come to my room before you go to bed, Chriss, and bring Adam with you.

“No!” Chriss breathed, his pale eyes going wide in wonder, “It can’t be!”
“What is it?” a sleepy voice asked from the bed just behind him.

Chriss turned towards the far corner of the room and shook his head in disbelief again. He walked over, sat down heavily on the bed, and sighed. He cocked his head as if listening, then nodded in reply. He said nothing.
“Chriss, what’s wrong?” Adam asked, the dullness of being drowsy vanishing from his piping voice.

The young Pyro turned as Adam sat up. The one thin sheet that they used for a cover slid down as he did, revealing his nakedness. Adam made no attempt to retrieve it. The sheet was more of a security measure for him, since Chriss’ Mutant body provided enough heat to keep them warm. The young Bomber simply couldn’t sleep without a cover, and since he’d moved in with Chriss shortly after the attempts on the lives of Xyn and Tym, Chriss had made some serious changes in his line of thinking and his lifestyle. Only one Cycle before, Chriss would have been mortified to have been seen naked in front of someone else, much less share a bed with another XY.

But then, neither of them were really XY’s.

Chriss stared into Adam’s flawless and smooth face, into deep brown eyes and noted the mop of dark brown hair that always seemed to need cut. He took in the form of Adam’s not quite little body, the in-between form of a little one who would never be an Adult, and silently wondered as his eyes roamed down to Adam’s equally smooth groin. His stomach rolled.
I can’t do this. I have to do this. Me and Adam, we’re … but HIM … what if it’s wrong … what if he doesn’t or can’t … what if it doesn’t work? He’s older than we were! Oh gods, what if I was wrong?
As he pulled the Bomber into a tight embrace and sat there, both of them naked and unashamed of their e-XY mutilations, Chriss simply held him and wrestled with his howling conscience.

After a while, Adam spoke.
“Chriss, I’m not a Psion and you’re scaring me! What’s wrong?”

But Chriss didn’t answer him. In all of the months that he’d shared his life with Adam, he’d never had to cope with feelings like this. Throughout the Summertime, they’d come to grips with the strange emotions and attractions they’d felt for one another. Having long since reconciled his own decision to be castrated, Chriss had been the best thing that could have happened to Adam. The young Bomber had been totally emasculated at a very young age by a Dealer, and unlike Chriss, not by choice. It had hurt him deeply, being sold as a slave and used, then rejected and hunted when his Mutant powers had gone wild. Then had come the ordeal of finding out that they both had been involved in their old Gang Leader’s plot to kidnap and sell Xyn, the events and memories of which had been carefully sealed up in their subconscious Minds. The trauma of releasing and erasing those Memories had almost proven too much for Adam, in fact, defining his entire life with his old Gang as little more than a lie. He’d attached himself to Chriss afterwards, awkwardly at first, but he was still there and becoming more of his old self every day.

Chriss wasn’t sure, given all that had happened not so long ago, that this might not make things worse. He remembered those first few nights of holding Adam while the little Bomber had cried himself to sleep, punishing himself for being part of a plot to hurt Xyn, his friend. Then, as time had passed and both of them had begun to heal from their Psionic ordeal, they had confronted their feelings for one another. It hadn’t been so hard, if not confusing, to admit that they were just a bit more than friends. Many nights of the Summertime, when they were both not totally exhausted from working at raiding the downed Ships, had been spent in exploration of one another’s e-XY forms. Chriss had found that Adam’s shame ran very deep, and using his Psi, he’d lent of his own self-confidence to try and sooth away that hurt. Over time, they’d come to share their Minds as well as their bodies. And now Chriss had to tell his best friend something that might set him back. He didn’t want to do that.

“Chriss, please tell me,” Adam almost begged, “What’s wrong?”
“We have to go see Xyn,” Chriss whispered.
“Now?” Adam asked.
Chriss nodded. “He asked me, just now.”
“You’re sure? But will he even talk to us? I mean, he’s not been too social since they tried to kill him and Tym.”
Chriss nodded again, gently kissing Adam’s smooth cheek. He then looked away, but let his Psi gently extend to the one who shared his bed, and his life. He focused on what he really felt about himself, about Adam, about Xyn. His eyes filled as he realized, admitting to himself, just how much he loved them. In an instant it was ready and he ‘sent’ it.
Adam’s eyes went wide, then also filled with tears. Then, to Chriss’ surprise, Adam leaned over and embraced him. There was fear, confusion, shame – but surprisingly – strength.

Chriss pulled back, his hands on Adam’s shoulders. “You can do this,” the young Bomber assured him, “WE can do this. ALL of us.”
“I was afraid to tell you, Adam. But what if…” Chriss began, his mind racing.
“It’s HIS decision, Chriss, and HE made it. He only needs our help. HE has a choice, like you, and he’s made it.”
“YOU didn’t have a choice,” Chriss replied regretfully, still wondering if Adam was hiding some hurt from him.“No, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I saw some pretty bad stuff, but I learned. It didn’t kill me – it made me stronger. But I now have friends, and one of them needs me. Us.”
Chriss nodded and stood back up, noticing with some embarrassment that he was getting a small erection. Adam smiled at him.
“Later,” he commented with a broad grin, and everything was, for that moment, all right again.
“Much later, I think,” Chriss agreed, returning the smile. Then he raised an eyebrow and looked down at himself. “You know, if I hadn’t been castrated…”
“At least YOU still have one,” Adam interrupted, his smile still shining.
The remark took him by surprise and the sudden warm feeling inside of him, Chriss knew, wasn’t coming from his Pyro abilities. He immediately felt much better.

He trusts me.

Chriss slipped back into his tattered shorts as Adam got up and pulled his plain jumpsuit and boots on. They found a new Medkit stashed in the closet, and headed for the door of their room.
“You OK, Firebug?” Adam asked in a soft voice, taking his hand.
Chriss nodded. “C’mon,” he replied in a quiet voice that betrayed his emotions, “We’ve got a castration to do.”

Are you absolutely sure, Xyn Psion? She asked.
I am, the little one replied for his best friend.
I would be lying if I said that I did not know of this procedure, she replied.
But you didn’t mention it.
There was a long silence.
No. Even though I had entertained the notion that it might lead to something – another breed of new and more powerful Mutants perhaps – I did not mention it. I would not encourage a young one to sacrifice so much for the rest of us. My debt to you is too great. I cannot ask more of you.
I would be lying to you as well if I said that I were doing this only for the good of our Gang. I have my own reasons.
Again, the long silence.
And now you would mutilate the body that you have spent so much time building? She asked, puzzled.
My body is what holds my Mind back. I must have both. I need both. If what they say I will gain is true, then it is a small sacrifice to make. A small price to pay. I MUST be stronger, or I will fail.
So be it then, Xyn Psion. If you do indeed evolve into that which you believe you will, then you will succeed and return to us. Of this I am certain, although you owe us nothing.
This place took me in when I was had nowhere to go. These people fed me when I was hungry, cared for me when I was sick. Some even offered up their lives for mine. I am hunted, just like the rest. I am a Mutant. Even if not for that, I would still return. I’m afraid that I’ve not repaid them all very well lately.
They’re coming, the little one noticed, his Mind reaching out into the hallway.

And then she was gone from their Minds as there came a knock at the door.

Tym looked into Xyn’s face, taking in the wrinkled brow and the clenched jaw. The blue-gray eyes, which had always seemed to sparkle, had gone dull in the past few months. The shoulder length brown hair was unkempt and wild. Still, the evidence of the young Mutant’s intensive exercise were clearly evident as he paced the room.
Xyn stood up, taking Tym into his arms as if the small Mutant weighed nothing at all, and hugged him tight. “I have to do this,” he said lamely.
“I know,” Tym replied, his voice trembling.
“I cannot go on like this.”
“I wish there was some other way,” Tym replied in an even tone.
Xyn sighed.
“So do I. But if there is, I cannot think of it. What the Doctors did to me has affected my body AND Mind, and I must have both in perfect working order. I’m not abandoning you, Tym,” Xyn reassured him for the seemingly hundredth time.
“I know,” Tym replied in voice more steady. “It took me a long time to realize it, to believe you, but I do now. Do what you have to do.”

Xyn smiled at his young charge. In the months since he had almost died in the Infirmary, Tym had matured a great deal. He was still very small for his age, but the sickly appearance had been replaced by a fleshy tone that glowed with life. His frail limbs had slowly built up some muscles, thanks in part to Xyn’s Suit and the little one’s insistence upon following him almost everywhere as he ran the Ruins and crossed the Flats. He’d even wanted to “touch the sky” with Xyn, but he’d never asked nor tried after Xyn had told him that it wasn’t true. It had been about the onset of Colorfall that he’d even stopped wearing the Suit and hung it up in the closet. He was the picture of health, and his emotions had matured as well.

“I won’t try and talk you out of it,” Tym whispered, jumping down out of Xyn’s arms and heading towards the door. “I know that you know that you think you’re doing the right thing.”
Xyn stared after him. He’s grown in so many ways, and I didn’t even notice it, he wondered to himself.

Chriss was just raising his fist to knock again when Tym opened the door. He looked from Chriss to Adam and then to the Medkit. Then he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Adam asked.
Chriss smirked as it hit him. “A Psion comes visiting another Psion and a little Weirdo and he stops to knock. Go figure.”
“Weirdo?” Tym repeated, raising a pale eyebrow.
“Well for lack of a better term. Did we ever come up with a name for your Mutation?” Chriss asked.
“No,” Tym shrugged, smirking back at him.
Chriss and Adam stepped into the room and closed the door. Only a few months before, either one of them would have been afraid to have provoked Tym. Things had changed between them all, however, and each realized that he didn’t hate the other quite as much as he’d thought.

“Thanks for coming,” Xyn said, averting his eyes and beginning to pull off his hooded shirt. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chriss winced. “Nice to see you too. How you been? Fine, thanks, and how’s Adam and the rest of my friends I never talk to anymore? Oh, can we catch up AFTER you cut my balls off, by the way?” Chriss said sarcastically.
Adam watched as Xyn dropped his shirt on the old rug. His pectoral muscles and biceps flexed as he stretched, and Adam sucked in a sharp breath. “Chriss,” he said softly, “Let’s just be done with it and go. You know Xyn doesn’t feel good.”
“I … I’m s-sorry,” Xyn stammered, his face flushing. “I just … I haven’t had much to say to anyone lately.”
Chriss stepped forward and took his hand, the lifted his smooth chin with the other. He stared into the dull eyes and smiled. “Lately?! Xyn, we understand. Now, you’re sure you want to do this? I mean, it wasn’t because of me, was it? I said some things before, and I sort of … well, I regret it now. I don’t wanna feel like I talked you into this.”
Xyn shook his head. “I listened to you, Chriss, and I read everything I could find. I think my Mutation is why that Doctor was pumping me full of hormones. They wanted to make me easier to capture, hurt me so bad that I’d want to go back to the Facility. It all makes too much sense. Besides, look at you and Adam. Gods, if a Pyro that can burn solid rock and a Bomber that can knock down sky-scraping buildings became so powerful and such because of castration, then what of me?”

“You’re the best, Xyn, everyone says so,” Adam answered.
“I WAS the best before all of this,” Xyn countered.

There were a few embarrassed looks, and finally Tym spoke up. “You might have become a monster some months ago,” he offered in a serious tone. “You wanted to go after those that wanted to hurt you and repay them. You felt helpless and lost.”
Xyn nodded, then reached out to lay a hand on top of his pale head. “But not now?” he asked.
Tym shook his head. “No. Not now. Your Mind is a clear and orderly place now.”

There was a slight scraping from above them, and suddenly Kefe the Nightstalker jumped down from Jayk’s secret entrance/exit high above the room. Dan dropped down behind him.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” Tym asked, which set Adam and Chriss off into helpless gales of laughter.
Kefe raised an eyebrow, but Xyn’s face remained stoic. “What are you two doing here?” he asked.
Kefe shook his head as his glowing cyan eyes faded to normal and Dan stepped up next to him. “We figured you might need a guard or two,” he explained.
“Guards?” Xyn asked.
“You tell him,” Adam suggested, obviously party to their plot, “So in case he gets pissed you can hit HIM!”
“I said I was sorry like three hundred times, Bomber,” Dan replied, “Besides, YOU were hysterical. Anyway, Xyn, well … it was sort of Mom’s idea. I guess you should know that since the attempt and all … well … when you started running the Ruins and going off across the Flats, we all got worried.” Dan paused.
“And?” Xyn asked in a lost tone.
“Well, it’s like this: When you go out in the daytime, I follow you. I take field glasses because it’s all I can do to keep up with you. Mom stays linked to my Mind, and at night Kefe is always nearby.”
Xyn snorted. “I can’t use my Psi, but I am NOT an invalid,” he countered.
“No, you’re an asshole lately,” Kefe replied, “But considering the amount of hormones and drugs they shot into you and all you’ve been through, that’s understandable. But you’re also kind of important.”
“You’ve been following me?” Xyn asked again, his anger beginning to rise.
“That’s what friends are for,” Kefe replied, shrugging his shoulders and pulling Dan close to rub his head. “Just here to see you safely castrated. Didn’t leave me much time for training my little protégé here, but we managed. Anyway, that’s why we’re here. If this operation works, we figured someone might be planning to try and stop it. Just because WE like you doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

Xyn turned to Tym, unsure of what to say. “You knew,” he whispered in a broken voice, “YOU had to know. YOU know everything.”
Tym nodded slowly and moved closer as Adam and Chriss began unpacking the Medkit and setting up. Xyn dropped to his knees as the full import of what they’d told him struck home. He felt their hands on his shoulders then, as months of holding his broken emotions inside let loose. He cried for some time, and his head throbbed as he laboriously powered up his Psi.
I’m so sorry, he sent to them.

It was very late in the night when Xyn finally recovered himself. He faced his friends, ashamed for shunning them all for so long, and thanked them again – verbally. He then crossed the large room, opened the closet, and dug around for a bit. When he found what he was after, he nodded. Tym and Chriss could feel his satisfaction, and a sizable amount of fear as well. When Xyn turned to face them, he held in his hand a small and wicked looking knife with a curved blade that shone in the light. It was obviously very sharp.

“Are you nuts?!” Adam exclaimed, dropping the laser scalpel on the rug.
“No,” Xyn replied calmly.
“I am NOT gonna use THAT!” Adam stated flatly.
“I have my Suit to heal me. It’s still got some distance left to it; not much, but some. I didn’t help in securing the new supplies. I turned my back on everyone who helped me. I don’t deserve the clean, painless way out. Besides, it wasn’t painless for you or Chriss or …” Xyn choked on the last word.
“Or Jayk,” Tym supplied.
Xyn nodded. “Once you make the cut, Adam, just roll me over onto my Suit. It will do the rest. It won’t take it long. It’s just a small dermal repair, after all.”
“He has a fabulous talent for understatement,” Kefe observed. “You call cutting your balls off a ‘slight dermal repair’?”
“I’ll live,” Xyn replied, dropping his black cargo pants and handing the knife to Adam. “Since you’re experienced,” he stated.
Chriss cleared his throat. “So, uh, you want the rest of us to hold you down, or what?”
“THAT would be a good idea,” Xyn answered, “Since I think this is going to hurt – a lot.”

Xyn stretched out on the old rug where Adam and Chriss had spread a plastic sheet to catch the blood. He positioned his arms behind his head, and Chriss and Dan took them, holding them down. Tym shook the wrinkles out of the Suit and laid it out beside his friend. Adam carefully sterilized the knife with a pilfered mini-torch that Xyn had found somewhere and watched as Kefe took his deliberately spread legs. They all took deep breaths, and Tym sat cross-legged at Xyn’s right breast and laid a small hand on his chest. His eyes were filled, but he didn’t cry. I’ll shut it off if you want me to, he sent to Xyn, who nodded and smiled weakly.

“Ready?” Adam asked, brandishing the small curved blade.

“Yes,” Xyn replied with a note of finality, betrayed only by the shaking of his lithe body.

“Seems a shame to cut on something like this,” Kefe observed.
“He DOES look to be in pretty good shape,” Dan agreed, “Wish I was built that good.”
Chriss’ face flushed. “Xyn, buddy, about a Cycle ago, I’d have never believed you’d look like this.”
Xyn listened to them, remembering the strange young XY in Jayk’s old mirror whom he didn’t seem to know. He glanced down at the washboard of his abdomen and watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed. There were traces of hair here and there, and a thick patch of black hair just above his XY-Parts. He also noticed the thin hair under his arms and on his legs. His penis gave a twitch as Adam took it in hand to move it out of his way. Suddenly, Xyn was erect and everyone gasped.

“Ye Gods!” Kefe stated in genuine respect.
Chriss stared and Adam gasped.
In the months since any of them, with the exception of Tym, had seen Xyn naked, he had grown. His sac, while mostly hairless, hung down with the weight of his testicles. They formed rounded shapes in the loose and slightly red skin, and his penis reached its way up towards his navel as if following the sparse path of dark hair that led there. His foreskin peeled itself back, and in seconds it was twitching in time to his heartbeat.
Xyn’s face reddened. “CAN we just get on with it?” he asked in shame.
“Wow,” Dan commented.
“If I had that,” Chriss began, only to be interrupted by Adam, who had almost dropped the knife.
“I’m glad YOU don’t!” The Bomber replied in shock.
“Guys,” Tym said softly, “Please?”
“Right,” Adam answered, shaking his head and unconsciously touching his own crotch. “Hold him, guys,” he ordered in a commanding tone, wrapping his hand around the top of Xyn’s scrotum and gently pulling it down. It was all he could do to keep his grip on it.

He then positioned the curved blade behind Xyn’s sac and stretched it down a bit more. Xyn grunted, grinding his teeth. Very quickly, Tym rolled up the discarded shirt and stuffed the tail of it into his friend’s mouth. “OK,” Adam stated, making sure that Xyn’s erection was going to stay out of his way, “Here we go. Get ready, Xyn.”

Xyn nodded as he felt the blade just touching his skin. Visions of what he hoped would happen raced through his Mind as time seemed to slow down for him. He saw himself running, knocking Hunters and Authorities out of his way with a Thought only. He was knocking down doors of Facilities, setting the little Inmates free to follow him back to the Ruins. He was sweeping his Psi out over the rural landscape, probing, searching … and finally finding … that one face that haunted his dreams. That one face that danced before his eyes when he grew dizzy from running stairs in skyscrapers. That one slim body that he always thought he saw out the corner of his eye when he was in the Forest. That one face that he saw every time he looked at his bed, even though Tym was usually there.

He felt a warm hand between his legs, but it wasn’t Adam’s. It was instead a long-fingered hand with dark skin, and it was at the end of an arm not as well muscled as his own. His Mind’s eye followed that arm up to the shoulders – to the face – the face that he always saw. It was not a pale face with intent eyes. It was a darker face with deep brown almond-shaped eyes set beneath sloping black brows and bright red lips that almost covered a gleaming set of white fangs. Those lips were smiling at him, the dark eyes sparkling, and the vision was so clear that he thought that he could almost reach out and feel the points of the ears nestled just beneath all of those long, black braids of hair that rustled so softly and smelled of earth and green, growing things in the open air.

He saw a house, and an Adult. There was a young one with him, but the Adult was backing away and begging for mercy as Xyn advanced upon him. He saw his Psi blazing as it swept over the lands, warning him of danger as he felt his way home. Home … Where he hadn’t been for so very long. Home, in his great bed in the large room with all the books and the warm brass lamps hanging from the high ceilings. Home, where he so desperately longed to be.

Xyn opened his eyes as the blade touched the back of his scrotum, dangerously close to Adam’s index finger. A drop of blood moved very slowly away from the blade, and it hung in midair as Xyn saw himself holding that dark body in his arms and pulling him close. He was holding him, his Mind invading his, and two Beings were becoming One as his Psi merged into the other’s Mind.

The drop of blood, Xyn saw, was hitting the plastic sheet. He did not feel the cold plastic underneath of him as it did; instead, he felt the warm blankets of the bed that he knew was so near to him. The bed that he knew was standing empty then, as if awaiting the return of its rightful occupant. Xyn was warm, and the hand on his breast was not a small and pale hand. It was a dark and soft hand with a palm almost as light as his own, and the long fingers were touching his hairless and white skin here and there. They were exploring, roaming, much like a child would slowly explore an inviting if not strange new place in which to play.

The blood splattered on the plastic as the heat suddenly became unbearable. He forced his eyes open to see the blade moving slowly through his skin, near to severing his testicles from his body. Blood ran from the terrible cut, but Xyn could almost see each drop slowly creeping its way towards the plastic sheet. The blade was almost still in his eyes, yet he knew that it was moving. The pain was no more than a dull sting, and he was reminded of those dark fingers and their sharp nails carefully touching him there. He watched, fascinated, as Adam’s small hand imperceptibly moved the knife upwards and forwards.

Then his head began to throb, and Xyn clenched his eyes shut. He bit down on the shirttail in his mouth and whined.
“What is it?” Chriss squeaked.
“It’s his head,” Tym replied.
“His HEAD?!” Dan repeated in confusion.

I’m right here, the little one spoke in his Mind.
It hurts! That Mind cried.
Let me help.
No, you can’t. You’ve been hurt too much already.
I want to help, the little one replied.
Leave them be, she then spoke to them all, This must come to pass.
But … but … I … I can’t leave him! He’s hurting!
And why can you not leave them? She asked in a motherly tone.

Time passed, and didn’t, as Adam moved the blade through Xyn’s skin. It was as if a bee had stung him as it contacted and sliced through a cord as more blood hung in the air above the sheet.

There was pain, so much pain, as the little one began to pull his Mind away from the One Mind shared by Two Beings. I can’t … because … because I love him! He cried.
And was that so hard to admit? She asked.
Tym’s ‘grip’ did not lessen, although he did distance himself a bit.

They were together again, in Xyn’s Mind, as the blade severed the last cord. Only a small fold of skin connected Xyn’s impending Adulthood to his young and hardened body as he fully opened his Mind and his head pounded savagely. Blood trickled from his nose as he felt his very insides beginning to tighten. A heat such as he had never known before began to form in his groin and spread upwards through him as that hand moved between his legs. It brushed against, then took the shaft of his throbbing penis and stroked it. A pale hand was moving it back out of the way, but a dark hand was caressing it softly. The heat continued to build, and Xyn opened his eyes again to see the edge of the bloody blade emerging from the front of his scrotum. That pale hand was holding his severed Manhood, but the dark hand was still touching him gently as the heat spread over him.

Less than a second later, Xyn screamed.

“Hold him, Kefe, he’s gonna …” But Chriss’ warning was interrupted as Xyn’s shivers intensified into spasms and Kefe was thrown backwards as Adam continued to move the knife forward in that one smooth movement. The blade finished its work just in time, and Xyn’s unseeing eyes popped open as a thick rope of white ejaculate shot from his throbbing penis to strike the Pyro holding his wrists above his head squarely in the face. Adam raised the knife safely above his head and leaned back.
“ … cum …” Chriss finished in a disgusted tone as Xyn’s testicles and scrotum came free in Adam’s other hand.

Xyn moaned and spasmed as wave after wave of orgasm shook his body. Blood poured from the large, open wound between his legs as well as his nose, yet still he ejaculated and moaned not in pain, but in some unimaginable pleasure.

He didn’t see the pale hand with the knife. There were no warm hands holding his wrists and ankles, nor a small hand on his breast. He didn’t see the blood, nor feel the pain as he was castrated.

Instead, Xyn saw the face that he longed to see. That face was smiling at him, those dark hands running all over his smooth skin. More warm skin was pressed against his, and he shivered in ecstasy. His head was throbbing, even though he’d expected the pain to be farther down. He could feel something – something leaving him with force. The pain in his head was offset by the pleasures coming from everywhere else. He was close to someone, skin touching skin, all over. He felt it pressing tighter upon him, and then suddenly it was WITHIN him. A voice was speaking to him, and for the first time in so very long, Xyn heard that voice clearly in the Mind that was not totally his.

But it was full of pain as well.

Xyn!
Jayk!
Xyn, what’s wrong? Is it really you? Us? The Hunter said you were sick and they tried to kill you!
I was. I’ll get better now, though.
We’re in pain, Xyn. Gods, are we doing it again? I feel so … strange.
Yes, Jayk, we’re One again.
Oh, Gods! It’s been so long.
I was sick, and you were so far away. I couldn’t do it, Jayk. I couldn’t reach you. I’m so sorry!
But now?
Thank Tym for picking up the Hunter’s trick.
Ah. I miss you, Xyn! I can’t even begin … it just hurts so …

There were only emotions then, both Minds lost in each other. Xyn had ceased to exist. Jayk had ceased to exist. In their places, despite the distance, was only one Being – Xyn/Jayk.

It was beyond physical touch. It was beyond sexual release. It was something that only Xyn/Jayk could know, and something that He so desperately needed. It was beyond words. Beyond reason. Still, even with their Minds fully lost in each other, Xyn tried to hide what was happening to him. It was like trying to lie to himself.

Jayk could feel it, however.

We’re hurt! Oh, Gods, Xyn, NO!
We’ll heal.
Oh, Xyn! Why? I was so afraid this would happen to you!
It was my choice.
I don’t understand.
You will.
On some level, Xyn/Jayk struggled with the conundrum of being castrated (again) and tried to tune it out.
Are we sure? I can’t bear it again, Xyn! Not again, not you!
I had to. They’ll help us, Jayk. We’re not alone.
I’m all alone.
No. Not for long. I’m coming for us, Jayk. I … we … I … will not leave you there!
It’s too dangerous!
You’ll see. Don’t give up, Jayk. I WILL come for you. For us.
How?
Trust me.
I do. Xyn, I love you!
I love you, too, Jayk.
The pain!
I know, I have to go.
We don’t want to go … but I’ll wait for you, Xyn.
We know.
The cut, Xyn, take care of yourself! Don’t get sick again!
Then the pain took them, physically and emotionally, and their Mind split.

Xyn/Jayk ceased to exist as Xyn came back, as did Jayk.

“Roll him over, quick!” Tym shouted.

Kefe, who had resumed holding Xyn’s ankles, helped Chriss and Tym as Dan made sure that the Suit was still flat and ready. As Xyn’s bloody and semen splattered form was rolled onto it, the Suit immediately came to life and enveloped him. His arms flailed and his legs curled up, but the Suit quickly took control of him. It lit up in a blazing blue color that none of them had seen before as it kicked into full trauma mode. It promptly immobilized Xyn and the facemask, gloves, and hood deployed, leaving only his chin and mouth visible. It hissed and beeped angrily, pumping painkillers and antibiotics into its wearer’s system as it surveyed the damage. In another second, it had fully reset itself from Tym’s to Xyn’s Bio-specs. Very slowly, Xyn uncoiled from the fetal position that he had assumed and began to breath again. He winced a few times as the dermal regenerators began to repair his wounded groin, then he lay very still.

They all stared at him, and Chriss picked up the well-chewed hooded shirt and wiped his face.
“That’s rude!” Tym said, but with a smile.
Chriss looked down at the shirt, over at Xyn, back at Adam, then smiled as well.
“You missed a spot by your ear,” Kefe commented.
Adam, however, was staring at the warm, bloody remnants of Xyn’s Manhood in his shaking hand. “I … I th-think I’m g-gonna be sick,” he choked, swallowing hard.
Dan, however, wasn’t laughing. His face was white, and he was clinging to the Nightstalker with one hand pressed firmly into his own crotch. He was also drooling and shaking. Tym cocked an eyebrow, and with amazing speed, pulled a small bag from the Medkit and tossed it to Kefe who got it up to Dan’s mouth just as he became violently ill.
“Thanks,” he managed when he was done.
This, of course, only made the rest of them laugh harder.
“What am I missing here?” Kefe asked in a sick tone, rubbing his shoulder where Xyn had kicked him.
“Nothing,” Chriss managed, then turning to Adam, “Are you gonna hold that all night?” he asked, gesturing at his friend’s bloody hand.
Adam looked down at the bloody mess in his hand and yelped. He dropped it on the plastic sheet. It hit the floor with a wet, ‘splat’ sound.
“Well what do I do with it?” he asked lamely.

“Destroy it,” Xyn choked, as the facemask of his Suit popped open.

“Hey, buddy, you gonna live?” Chriss asked.
“Suit still blue?” Xyn asked weakly.
“Just a little, but it’s settling down,” Chriss replied.
“Then I’d say ‘yes’,” Xyn stated. “Is it really … I mean … is it … gone?”
“It’s done, Xyn. You’re an e-XY now,” Tym answered, moving to his side and trying to help him up.
Xyn winced and moaned and his Suit hissed and beeped. It tightened around his crotch, showing off the outline of his now flaccid penis. It also showed the flat spot just under it, as if testifying to Tym’s statement.

The rest of them helped the young Psion into bed, his Suit still glowing. Tym sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and held his gloved hand as the others cleaned up the mess.
“What do I do with this?” Adam asked, holding up the bloody knife.
Kefe eyed it and smiled. “I could USE that!” He stated anxiously.
“It’s yours, take it,” Xyn mumbled, as the Suit began to sedate him.
“Thanks, Xyn. You gonna be OK now?” Kefe asked.
“Yea,” Xyn sighed. Then his eyes popped open. Tym felt the wave of panic and curiosity roll off of him and pushed him back down as Xyn tried to rise. His own Abilities already knew what Xyn was so agitated about. Then Chriss smiled and laughed out loud as his own Psi informed him of it.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry! We should have told you earlier, Xyn!” The young Pyro laughed. “It’s not funny, but it is! I thought you’d know, I mean, you asked and we assumed you’d want it later, so we left IT alone! You DID want it left alone, didn’t you?”
Xyn’s eyes were still wide, and his hand was fumbling for his crotch.
“Relax, Xyn,” Adam offered calmly, repacking the Medkit, “You’ve still got a penis.”

Xyn smiled, and then passed out.

Somewhere to the Mid South, the Hunter stirred in his sleep and awoke in a sweat with a fresh idea. He looked up at the starry and clear sky to see the constellation Orion riding overhead and sighed as he heard a voice crying out in pain. A familiar feeling of frustration, but one that he hadn’t felt often of late, arose within him as his Psi listened. He was running it constantly now, the headaches almost gone since the reprogramming and overhaul of his Suit. He stared for a while at the three stars that formed the belt of the mythical stellar warrior, then lay back down. “Ah, Xyn, what HAVE you done?” he whispered.

Since his “death”, the Hunter had been making slow but steady progress back towards the Old City. Far South was nice enough, but he had business to attend to. There were problems, however, with maintaining a low profile. For one thing, his image was pasted all over the Network and the Broadcasts. Taking off his Armor wasn’t a problem, and some stolen clothes hid his Suit, but there had been just a few too many brushes with chatty people who insisted that he looked so much like THE Hunter on the news. He was surprised to learn, after passing through some small town, that he had indeed been spotted there. The rumors of the fact that he was not dead after all amused him, but they also caused him concern.

He did NOT want to be found out. He needed to reach the Old City, a very few old contacts, and a few other people. He wanted to see Abrams, naturally. He also wanted to get a hold (a very TIGHT hold, at that) of Acer the Dealer.

And he wanted to get to Xyn.

It wasn’t the reward, however, that drove him. Ever since leaving Jayk with Wilson and nearly being blown up, the Hunter had had a nagging feeling – a longing – to reach Xyn and the Ruins. As he traveled slowly, either on foot or via the pathetic public transit systems, he pondered this feeling and came to one conclusion: If I’m dead and they believe me dead, I can reach the Ruins and Xyn and stay there. We can go after Jayk somehow. Maybe they’ll let me stay there. In peace. They can’t come after me – yet – if I stay there with Xyn’s Gang. I can rest, and maybe they’ll leave me alone.

That next morning, he stopped in the nearest small town that he could find. He logged onto a Network Terminal and inserted the mail chip that he’d stored the message from Edward IV on. He sent a rather strange mail to the little XY Adoptee, informing him that Uncle Henry from 32 South was coming up for a visit very soon and would his parents mind at all if he spent a few days there instead of the hotel? He watched the other patrons of the Information Bank warily, but none of them seemed interested in him. His reply came almost as soon as he’d sent it!

“Uncle!” It read, and he immediately knew that Edward IV had gotten the hint, “Mom and Dad can’t wait! Of course you can stay, in my room if you want to! Can you take a train or flight? Dad can come pick you up, if you want. Write back, right now! – Edward.”

The Hunter smiled and replied that if his dad could come pick him up in Claymont, as was the name of the small town where he was awaiting the next train, that he’d be overjoyed. His answer came back instantly.

“Be there in three days!”

“Rich people DO have their uses,” the Hunter mumbled, smiling to himself. “Ah, Eddie, you’re a Godsend.” He then sent his reply, with pick up and location information, pulled the chip and sent a feedback pulse from one of his new Approved Chips that the Doctors had installed when he and Jayk had both gone sick. The Terminal exploded as the pulse tore through it, overloading its cheap construction in its flight to erase his presence from the Network. A shower of sparks and melting wires and pieces flew to the floor. Everyone looked!

“Damn cheap ass piece of shit!” He shouted, “I should sue! That coulda been my head, you know!” And with that, he left.

Three days later, at the small town’s only hotel, the Hunter was met by a very excited little XY in a khaki colored jumpsuit. His flaming red hair, thick and almost shoulder length, bounced and rippled in the wind as he ran across the front walkway with an excited cry. The Hunter caught him up in his arms and tossed him into the air, catching him a rough hug when he came down. He stared into the cherubic face with its splattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and kissed his cheek. Edward laughed. “I’m trying to HIDE, you know,” he chided.

“I knew you weren’t dead,” the little XY whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “Mom and Dad are freaked out! Is hiding why you can’t get home?”
“It is,” the Hunter agreed, “I’m glad you could help.”
“You’re THE Hunter,” Edward stated matter-of-factly, “I HAVE to help. Are you still looking for N?”
“Yes.”
“No one’s found him, you know.”
“I know where he is, but I need to get some things and go get him,” the Hunter explained. “That’s why I need your help.”
He was just setting the little one back on the ground when his parents arrived. “Oh my, it IS you!” Edward’s father, Edward III, observed.
“Last time I checked,” the Hunter joked.
“We’re parked around back at the landing strip,” Edward’s mother advised, “You MEN can gossip when we’re in the air. I’m driving. Let’s go before someone sees us.”
“Isn’t she just the darling?” Edward’s father mused, and they followed her to the craft.

Once in the air, the Hunter looked around and said, “Impressive.”
“My father left it me,” Edward III explained, “I had it upgraded and refitted. Cost me a bloody mint, but it can have us home in two days with one refuel if need be.”
“How was it Abrams had such a fit getting one then?” the Hunter asked.
Edward III laughed as his wife made a course correction and gunned the engines, pressing them all back against their seats. “They don’t make these anymore. Dad saw it coming, I guess, the economy you know. He had two and stashed this one. I’ve been offered more than I paid for little Eddie here, but I won’t give it up and the Grandfather Claus on property seizures protects it.” Then he paused and thought. “I’ll assume you’ll be needing it?”
“I can pay you for it when we get back. I’ll need to slip into my home and get some funds, real gold and such, since I’m dead, you see!”
They all laughed at that, and spent the rest of the trip talking and watching the scenery below fly by as if they were nothing more than a family on vacation.

They arrived in Old City Proper two days later, as promised. Edward IV was asleep in the Hunter’s lap as they sat down at the main strip and called a taxi. The Hunter was still in plain clothes, but after the looks the cabbie gave them after returning from his well secured home, he decided that it wasn’t safe to be together. His Psi had informed him that the house was empty, but that the cabbie was suspicious.
“We should part company,” he advised, handing a very heavy bag to Edward’s parents. “This should more than cover the craft AND your little one. I should be going. I can make it to 32 from here. Abrams and I have business.”
“Nonsense,” she snapped at him. “We’ll take you on to 32. We have enough dealings with them to look legitimate. Besides, we’ve an adoption pending.”
The Hunter raised an eyebrow.
“R’s gonna be my brother!” Edward announced happily, reminded of the fact and launching into a full dissertation on the matter as he saw it. “He needs a new eye and he’s not got any XY-parts, but Dad says he can get a cyver-nitik one for him.”
“Cybernetic,” his mother corrected. “Poor little thing. Eddie and he were good friends in that place, you know, and I think it’s just awful what they do to little XY’s in there! You wouldn’t believe it!”
“I’d believe it,” the Hunter smiled with a shudder as they boarded and took to the skies again. “Believe me, I know.”

They were just on the approach to Facility 32 later in the day when an emergency Comm message came over the craft’s speakers. “Unidentified craft, you are flying in restricted airspace. Turn back now. You will not be warned again.”
Edward III responded. He gave his Facility business code and identified himself. “Clearance confirmed. Approach landing bay on roof. Director Abrams notified. Welcome to Facility 32 and enjoy your visit.”
Suddenly the craft shuddered and there was a sound of ripping metal. Smoke began to fill the cabin.
“They’re shooting at us!” She cried, fighting with the controls.
Alarms were going off all over the craft and smoke was beginning fill the cabin. The panel in front of Edward IV’s father exploded, and the Adult cried out in pain as a shower of sparks burned his upraised hands. The little XY screamed and struggled to rush to his aid, but the Hunter held him tightly.
“We’re venting drive plasma,” she cried as the craft shook again. There was a horrible sound from the rear, and the lights went dim.

“Unauthorized passenger in recognized craft,” the Facility voice warned them, “your attempt at incursion will not be successful. Land where you are or be shot down.”

“They don’t have sensors that advanced!” Edward III shouted, clutching his hands together in pain.
“Worse, dammit! How could I have been so stupid? They’ve got a Psion in there!” the Hunter cursed, bringing his own Psionic Defenses to bear. The other Mind, however, fled in haste.
“How the hell do I land when they won’t stop shooting at us?” she cried, dodging another incoming round.
“Things seem to have changed,” the Hunter mused, “Mind if I take over?”
They traded places quickly as she took the little one from him and tended to her husband’s wounds. The sight of his hands reminded the Hunter of how little Edward IV’s hands had looked, and the little one had a lost and frightened look of horror on his face. He clutched the Hunter’s armrest and stared out the front glass. He cocked his head, as if listening to voices that only he could hear, and his face went blank.
Forget, the Hunter sent to him, cursing himself for not extending his Psi into the Facility well in advance. He then turned back to the controls of the damaged craft and sighed.
“Computer,” he shouted, “Emergency protocols. Reroute all available power to engines and accelerate at 60 degrees portside aft and up, on my mark.” He then braced himself. “Hold on tight, folks, it gets bumpy from here!”

“Mark!” He shouted.

Something to the rear of the craft exploded, and the smoke became blinding. The cabin heated up as the crackling voice came through again. “Since you have disregarded the warnings, you will be shot down now.”
“Idiots!” the Hunter shouted, “DO you know who I am?”
“Mainstage drive lost,” the computer reported, as the craft lurched under one last hit and jumped into a hard climb. The hull screamed in protest as a day’s worth of fuel was instantly dumped into the remaining ignition chambers of the engines. The craft shook and climbed, trailing smoke and flame and pieces as it did.
“We’re not going to make it, are we?” Edward III asked.
“No,” the Hunter replied, “We’re not.”
“What the hell is going on here?” his wife demanded.
“I’d say I pissed someone off,” the Hunter replied, struggling with the controls as the craft began to slow and level out.
“Take Eddie,” they said in unison, staring at one another. “If I know you, you’ve been shot down before!”
Edward IV began to cry. “What’s happening?” he choked. The smoke was becoming almost obscuring, and they were all coughing.
“We’re going to crash, Eddie,” his mother told him. “The Hunter is going to bail out with you.”
“What about you?” the little one cried.
She shook her head and hugged him. They each kissed him. “Go with the Hunter, Eddie,” they told him.

There was one more explosion as the smoke suddenly blew away. The Hunter froze the terrified little XY with a thought and reached to grab him as the smoke was blown out by a gust of fresh air. The entire back of the cabin disappeared, and in one fluid move he triggered the passenger ejection seat and swept the little one up into his arms. He triggered his seat as well, and they flew out of the ruined craft with a deafening roar filling their ears. He felt the heat of the craft’s funeral pyre and his heart sank.
He held Edward IV in his arms as the seat’s parachute released. He scanned the sky with his eyes and his Psi, but he found nothing. Very slowly, they drifted to the ground.
“You’ll pay for this, Abrams,” he grumbled, “Tonight. I move better in the night, you know.”
The Hunter then took the sobbing little XY in his arms, once free of the ejection seat, and went back into hiding.

“The plan has failed,” the man in the black business suit was saying.
The fat man began to sweat, wringing his hands as the blue light from his Network terminal danced over his right eye as he stared into the monitor. “I’m sure I can salvage it, sir,” he replied in a faltering voice.
“We placed a great deal of trust in you, Dealer. It would seem that you’ve let us down, and not so easy,” the man in black said in a hungry tone. “You have no idea what your actions have caused.”

Acer the Dealer swallowed hard, sweat running down his jowls to soak the collar of his shirt. Below him in the nightclub that he used for cover, the staff was just coming in to prepare for the evening’s usual business. In the secret room just behind and left of him, the tools of his trade were sitting unused and awaiting a Capture to be brought in by a Hunter or some other.

“Let me put it to you this way, Dealer,” the man in black said in a more ominous tone. “Captures are down by 85%. Hunters are roaming about the New Cities at night now, as well the Old, and they’re still looking at being unemployed very soon. Unapproveds are holing up in the Old Cities, vanishing, and the workforce is suffering. We’ve got a total of TEN Transports missing, some of them carrying VERY important cargo. Maintenance and Parts Replacement is getting extremely difficult to get these days. Last week alone, 60% of the Unapproved Workforce failed to report in and went Runaway. You and your friends were supposed to come up with some answers, not to mention a high-grade Psion Mutant for us long ago. Or did you geld him and resell him?”

Acer tried to stammer a reply, but he failed. The man went on.

“Our operative from the University that we reassigned to some very wealthy Approveds seems to have failed us as well. His little one was to be our Catalyst in combating this apparent … what the hell do we call it? Intelligent Virus? Rogue program? Whatever the hell is messing up our Network Systems and running off with Ships and Data and fucking up the Comm-Tell satellite systems, call it what you will. But the little XY of his died of a Cascade Breakdown before we could get what we needed. The information we got and still have is priceless, yes, but it’s not enough. I supposed we have YOU to thank for that, Dealer. I’m sure you made a handsome profit in keeping Alfred Duncan’s little one going? With some help, too? Now it may already be too late to stop what’s coming. You DO see what’s coming, don’t you?”

“Yes …” the fat man wheezed. The image of that little XY who had gone so much Replacement came to mind, and he shivered in revulsion. He’d made a mint off of Alfred Duncan, but he’d also discovered that he DID have some ethics. He’d seen, firsthand, when enough was enough.

“Good. I was afraid I’d have to explain it again. We can’t afford to have all these damn Unapproveds and Runaways and Gods-know-what-else holing up in the Old Cities, Dealer. The rumors about the Ruins, both East and West, aren’t helping us either. We tried an Approved – or Cybernetic – solution to our problems of control and policy implementation and it didn’t work. We had high hopes, after our success with THE Hunter, and now HE’S dead! We NEED this little Psion you people were to come up with, Dealer. We gave you the guidelines for breeding him, we had his survival to Adulthood and Upgrade insured, and YOU – not to mention that boob, Abrams – blew it! HE fell in love with him and got attached. He’s cost us a Hunter, a very expensive Craft, and perhaps the whole of Approved Life as we know it. Did I also mention the fact that he LOST the little Psion that was OURS to begin with?! How do you plan to remedy this situation?”

Acer swallowed hard. The import of the words stuck him and groped for words. Of course he’d taken the data given him by the strange gentleman that night. Come to think of it, he HAD been old then. And why not? There had been a high payoff for succeeding in breeding the little one in question, his Bio specs all spelled out on the data padd. He’d gone ahead and arranged it with the University Staff, cut them in, and then placed the baby at Facility 32 to be raised by someone that he had thought that he could trust to do it. He hadn’t asked questions. After all, what did he care? He had been paid. He felt a chill and cleared his throat.

“Sir,” he replied softly, “I think you should know that I have reason to believe that the Hunter is not dead. I have received a very few communiqués from him since the explosion after leaving Wilson’s home. Somehow he was on about Alfred’s plans and knew that the explosive was in the Craft. We can’t rule out the fact that the young Psion tipped him off. We also have to assume that his own Psionic Abilities uncovered the old fart and his connections to you. He’s very good, you know. Personally, I think he’s very angry now, hiding and biding his time, and plotting revenge. He’ll show up here soon, I think. He did tell me a few things that give credence to what I say, so I believe it, as should you. I can only imagine what he wants to do to Abrams and me, and YOU – IF he knew about you, that is. Which he might.”

“For YOUR sake, he’d better not find out,” the man in black stated firmly.
“There’s no way to know yet, sir. Now rest assured, from what he’s told me, this Xyn is still alive and well and living …”
“I KNOW he’s alive and well. And WHAT did you call him?”
The Dealer gulped and repeated Xyn’s name.

“’N-32’ has no name, Dealer. He has a designation. He is Government Property, stolen or missing. Stolen, we think. That’s the whole bloody problem, right there. It seems that everyone gets attached to him for some reason. Now, I’m fairly attached to my little … uh … houseboy, shall we say, but ye gods, he’s an Unapproved, a servant! That’s why we had N-32 built, because we need a better tool to keep control. The Line of Kadens the Unifier is dying out, and the damn radicals are taking over the Government. We don’t want to risk using the last remaining cells, Dealer. There aren’t many viable ones left, and Kadens’ current heirs are all either Defectives or idiots. The gene pool’s getting a bit shallow, shall we say.
Hell, the House is even preaching reform! We need someone to be a Leader, someone who can change minds, or CHANGE Minds if need be. The World’s not in stable shape, Dealer, and if it takes a new Mutant Kadens to do it again, the Unification, we’ll do it! WE NEED N-32 NOW!” The man in black roared, and Acer fell backwards off of his chair.
He landed on the floor in an unceremonious heap.

Acer got up and reset his Connection. The angry man was still there, and his revelation left the fat Dealer in shock.
“Sir, there is something I think you should know. We were, ah, interrupted as I was just getting to it! As I said, I have reason to believe that N-32 is alive and well and living in the Ruins, East, near here in the Old City. The Hunter was dispatched by Abrams to bring him in, but instead he brought in a young Mutant, a Slow Beast Mutant, instead. It seems that this Mutant is the Property of one Master Ev Wilson, whom your Alfred was …”
The man in black leaned forward. “Wilson? Ev Wilson? HIS slave knows N-32?” He gasped in shock.
Acer nodded, feeling his edge growing sharper.
“The Hunter told me that this slave, Jayk Norreth, found our little Xyn in the Forest the night of the fire. He was tracking Xyn to the Ruins when he found Jayk instead and opted for the reward and took him home to his Master. I think he got attached to him, though. Shocking, isn’t it, that Alfred, YOUR operative spying on the upper crust of this molding Society tried to blow him up, don’t you think?”
The man in black was cursing, almost falling off of his own Connection. “We need to get to this Jayk-person fast, Dealer. We need to know WHY Alfred tried to blow up OUR Hunter, when we’re ALL on the same team! Dammit, anyway! You think he went Defective or had a Breakdown?” he asked, genuinely interested.
Acer shook his head, his jowls waggling and his smile faint. “I think he went sympathetic to the Outcast lot,” the Dealer replied. “Bumping off a Hunter would be a crushing blow to his – your – side. And THE Hunter to boot!”
“The whole idea was to recapture N-32. Gods, how close we came! I’m dispatching another operative to Ev Wilson’s. I need to know what this Jayk person knows, Dealer. I’ll expect your full cooperation on this. I think if we can get Jayk, we can get N-32.”
“I am equipped to deal with even the most dangerous Mutants brought in here, sir. After all, Xyn missed his date with me some time ago. The Hunter planned to bring him here.”

And as soon as Acer said it, he realized his slip.

“He was going to do what?!” the angry man screamed.

“Xyn was to be brought here, by the Hunter, to be – allegedly – returned to Abrams at Facility 32. I don’t think the Hunter planned on doing that, however. Things sort of seemed to change in his demeanor and tone after he picked up Jayk. He even nursed the young Mutant back to health when he got sick en route and he himself suffered a Breakdown. He had to have some hellish Maintenance and Servicing, he told me. Blew a Processor, too. I’m sure it had to do with where he was.”

The man in black smiled. It was a false smile, and it chilled Acer to the bone. He could almost hear his money running down the sewer. Playing both sides is SO hard, he thought sadly, hoping that the old manual recording device was picking up everything.

“We can’t have a sympathetic Hunter. You’re a valuable asset, Dealer, keeping us in touch with the common masses. I’ll be in contact again very soon. We’ve got to get things moving before disaster strikes. We have too much invested and riding upon young N-32 to lose him to some pathetic Mutant slave who wants to be free and happy. Oh, and Acer?”
“Sir?” the Dealer asked.
“Don’t ever refer to our Property N-32 as ‘Xyn’ again, and tell me, just WHERE was the Hunter that tore him up so badly? We thought that he was damn near indestructible.”

Acer’s closed his eyes. “He was IN the Ruins, sir, which is where Xy- … I mean, N-32 is now living.”

When Xyn awoke, he felt strange. He lay still, staring at the ceiling for a long time and feeling the warmth of the little body pressed up against him. It felt different, however, and he remembered that he was wearing his Suit again. His Mind dwelt upon what had happened, and he smiled. He didn’t have a morning erection.

It was not a smile borne of happiness, though. It was a wry smile that spoke of goals attained, higher goals to reach, and a complex plan forming. Very carefully, he slipped out of bed as not to wake Tym. He stood in front of the old mirror and slid out of his Suit, which was back to being white; the indication that it was doing nothing other than serving as a garment at that time. He picked it up, hung it neatly in the closet, and yawned and stretched. “I need a bath,” he muttered, not looking at his reflection.

“Yes, you do,” Tym replied.
Xyn jumped and spun around. Then he smiled.
“And how do we go about this?” he asked in a playful tone, feeling better than he had in a long time. “Wait for a rain up above?”
Tym smiled back at him from the large bed. “We DO have some, uh, stolen supplies we could use,” he offered.
Xyn nodded, and unaware of his appearance, got dressed with his little friend and set off in search of a bath.
It suddenly sounded very good.

Walking down the hallways, Tym noticed that Xyn was walking rather strangely. He knew that his friend was fully healed thanks to the Suit, but still he watched. It looked as if Xyn were almost afraid to bring his foot forward to take the next step, and he frequently shook his hips and twitched his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?”
Xyn stopped and pressed a hand to his groin, feeling at himself through his favorite old black cargo pants. “It feels odd,” he replied.
“Well,” Tym offered, “You ARE missing something now. How’s it feel?” Tym asked in a small voice.
“Strange,” Xyn replied, “But good.”Tym didn’t reply, but held his hand instead as they walked.

They arrived at the Infirmary, which has been repaired and restaffed. As they entered, they were greeted by a young and very nearly Adult XX. She looked familiar, and Xyn thought hard.
“Adele?” he asked.
“Hello, Xyn. It’s been a while. You certainly grew up fast,” she observed, looking him over. “The last time I saw you up close, you were taking off that Suit of yours to save Dan. I think that’s part of why I went into nursing,” she mused, rather melodramatically. “You inspire me.”
Tym rolled his eyes.
“I think we both grew up,” Xyn replied, missing her ill-timed pass at him. “I could use a clean-up, I think, if you have the supplies.”
Adele raised an eyebrow. “We have TONS of supplies, now,” she said in a dry tone, obviously annoyed.
Tym grinned.
Adele sighed and said, “Follow me.”
She led them to a small room just off of the main Infirmary. There was plumbing, a large tub, and a cabinet full of various soaps and cleaning agents. “Have fun, you two,” she said in a flat tone, slamming the door.
Xyn looked at Tym, his eyebrows raised. “What did I say?” he asked.
Tym laughed. “You need to turn your Psi back on, Xyn! She’s got the hots for you!”
Xyn’s face flushed. “Oh. I didn’t catch that, I guess.” Then he cleared his throat. “She’s an XX, you know. I don’t know much about those.”
Tym laughed again. “No one does,” he replied sagely, as if he were the authority on the subject. He then reached over and began running some hot water into the tub. “Damn, we’ve got all the comforts of home now,” he said.
Xyn nodded and began to strip. Tym began to do the same, but as Xyn tested the water with his hand, he suddenly stopped. His face looked perplexed, and his hand found its way to his crotch again. He was erect, but he hadn’t recalled being erect that morning when he’d awakened. He pushed his penis off to the side a bit, his hand feeling at the smooth and almost scarless spot underneath of it where his sac and testicles had been. There was very little evidence that he’d ever been a full XY. “How long was I asleep, anyway?” he asked.
“Three days,” Tym replied, “Why?”
“I feel so strange,” Xyn mused, rubbing at the smooth spot. “I wonder how long it will take to have the effect? Gods, no wonder I’m so hungry.”
“According to the lab and blood work, not long. The overdose of hormones and drugs they gave you did some serious damage to your testicles, Xyn. It’s been Summertime and all of Colorfall and now it’s almost Unification Day and you haven’t had much testosterone in you since your body wasn’t making any. It’s just as well that you got castrated, because your testicles were really messed up.”
“Oh,” Xyn replied softly. “I didn’t realize that.”
“I’m sorry,” Tym answered, wrapping an arm about his friend’s waist as the tub filled up. “We were gonna tell you when it hit you. I mean, you know now that you … uh … since you’re not … shit!” He swore in resignation. “Shar said that once you were castrated, the Change would start to go backwards, and on you, it would probably happen fast. I’m sorry.”
“Later,” Xyn said wistfully, kissing the top of his pale head. He then looked up and saw the mirror on the back of the door. He gasped and stared hard. “I don’t care what happens. And I look like shit,” he stated, staring at his reflection. “I didn’t realize until now.”

They got into the bath together. Xyn just soaked and washed Tym’s ears, his hair, the back of his neck – all of the places that little XY’s usually neglect to wash. There was nothing sexual about it, and Xyn thought of Mr. Rick and the Facility as he scrubbed at Tym’s scalp. He remembered being taken care of and held and being little. He smiled at the thought, his heart full and feeling warm inside. There was, however, some melancholia as well. Then, despite the hot water, he felt a chill as the little one sighed in contentment.

Then he heard it.
I wish he were as happy as I am … he’s so miserable. All I want is for him to be happy.
Xyn smiled and realized that it was Tym, and that he’d heard him! His head didn’t hurt, either.
He blinked back the tears and pulled the little one up close to him. He kissed him just under the ear, and both of them just sat and soaked.
Once Xyn made sure that Tym was suitably clean, he stood up in the tub and reached for a towel. He wrapped the little one in it, and then had a thought as he sat back down in the hot water. His crotch itched, and as he scratched it, the hair bunched under his palm and tugged a bit. It stung. He was not, however, erect. He hadn’t been the whole time. Guess I better get used to that, he thought, remembering all the mornings he’d awakened with an erection and how he’d have “the talk” with Tym about such things.
“Tym, see if there’s any of the pink gel in the cabinet,” he asked.
Tym rooted about for a moment, then returned with a small pink box. He handed it to Xyn, who punctured the seal and dropped the box in the water. “What is that?” Tym asked, sniffing the pungent aroma.
“It’s body cleansing gel. It takes off the dead skin, takes out the hair and suppresses the growth of more. It also tingles and feels really good. Fights odor, too. I don’t like all this damn hair,” he explained, “And I didn’t used to smell like this. Besides, it reminds me of being in the Facility, and I sorta miss some of my old friends all of a sudden.”
Tym opened his towel and glanced at his own little hairless body. “I wouldn’t either,” he agreed, “The hair, that is. And I understand about the friends. I think. I never had any before.”
Xyn smiled at him and leaned back. “You do now. Why don’t you go and see if you can round us up some breakfast? I think there’s some Purples stashed in our room in the bottom drawer.”
Tym’s reply was a broad grin. “I can do better than some old fruit! You get cleaned up and dressed, and I’ll go tell them! We’ve been waiting for this!” He almost bubbled.
Xyn nodded. And I AM happy, Tym, he sent.
He watched Tym pull on his short tunic and slam the door on his way out. He smiled and sighed, feeling the little one’s elation.

“I think I know you, Xyn,” he whispered to himself, pouring the remainder of the gel over his head of thick and long brown hair and scrubbing it in. It reached to his shoulder blades, and he pulled it up and scrubbed at it. He relished the familiar tingle and held his breath, ducking his head under the bathwater after a few minutes.

When Xyn emerged from the bath, he stood naked and dripping, staring into the mirror. He looked long at the hairless form before him with the rippling muscles and well-defined features. He ran one hand over his bald scalp, and the other over his flaccid penis to the empty spot under it. He smiled, the perfect white teeth flashing the artificial light back at him. He blinked.
“I am reborn,” he breathed.

Then, for the first time in nearly a full Cycle, Xyn Psion brought his Psionic Abilities back up at full intensity.

Welcome back, Xyn Psion! He heard her say.
He did it! He really did it! It’s him again! He heard the little one rejoice.
Watch where you point that thing, He heard the Pyro complain.

Then he felt the chill again as another voice came to him.
Forget … forget and wake up. You’re safe now. I won’t let them take you back, Edward …
Hunter! Xyn sent, wondering at how he could hear him from so far away.
Xyn! Gods, is it really you?
Where are you, Hunter? How’s Jayk? And who’s Edward?
I’m in Old City Sub, near Facility 32, hiding. It’s a long story, Xyn.
“Oh,” Xyn said aloud, disappointed. He hadn’t ‘reached’ to Far South after all.
Never you mind us, Xyn. There’s a new player on the field, and he’s got a VERY big bat. I just got shot down again. I think someone wants to kill me. From now on, I take the trains.

Then there came the Presence of another Mind. Xyn could feel the Hunter tense up, and then Shar was there. Her Mind came crashing into their thoughts like weapons arrays gone overloaded. They both felt her screaming for blood, and the other Mind fled with Shar’s in pursuit.

What was THAT? Xyn asked in fright.
THAT, the Hunter replied, Is – I think – the Psion responsible for all this mess. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was who messed up Adam and Chriss, and possibly Jayk. Probably the one who set up the spies that almost killed you and Tym as well. Someone knew I was coming to the Facility, Xyn. I may as well tell you. I just cost a little one his family. They shot our craft down because I was in it.

Xyn felt his anger begin to rise. His penis also began to rise as well, some animalistic instinct to fight triggering his excitement. He followed the ‘trail’ that Shar had left in her flight, but she had already returned. She was NOT happy, either.
Lost it, she grumbled.

But Xyn was not ready to give up. He let his Mind and Psi expand, slowly taking in the Infirmary. He then felt the hallways and corridors, the many thousands of rooms. He felt himself rising above the surface to the empty streets … only the streets were no longer empty! There were tens of thousands of Minds there, and all of them were active! He pushed the Psionic cacophony back, filtering it away. He had never felt so much before, and he was suddenly intimately aware of the personalities of everyone that he touched. He swooned a bit and sat down on the lid of the toilet in the corner of the small room.

In a flash, he was used to it. He expanded his Psi again, amazed at what he was feeling, as he began to encompass the Ruins. He found the old buildings full of life, up to even the fifth or sixth floors! There were people in the streets, all of them busy and thinking hard about something. Emotions were high, and anxiety was the foremost. He did not stop to ponder it, however. He assumed that even more Gangs had come to the Ruins, and that everyone was busy in going about sorting the plunder of the downed Ships he’d been told of.
Still, he reached out.

The Ruins were well set in his Mind. Places he knew well, all of them transfixed in his Mind’s eye, flew underneath of him. He was vast, vast beyond his own comprehension. He saw the Lady of the Flats, her torch raised to the sky and her crumbling book in hand. He went on past her, past the Forest, and far over the rural lands until his Mind saw the ‘trail’ again and picked it up. He followed it, and he soon ‘felt’ the One on the other end of it.
He passed over the town, the Facility where the Hunter was hiding some distance apart, and over more rural lands until he began to feel many other people. It was a City, but he wasn’t sure of where it was. It seemed like a long way off.

Turn back, It said.
Xyn’s face twisted up into a sneer. His erection pounded, and he was drooling. His head was clear and free of pain, however, as he pounced. Fuck you! He cried, and his ‘blow’ struck home.
There was a ‘scream’ such as he’d never heard before, and the other Mind fled as quickly as it could. It suddenly vanished, overloaded by his onslaught. He let it go, but wondered at how it ‘felt’ so familiar.

There was a profound silence in his Mind then as Xyn returned to himself. He shook his bald head and smiled.

Come to Chriss and Adam’s room, Shar sent to him, and Xyn turned to get dressed. He was still bemused at what he’d done, wondering how far he’d reached. He wasn’t even tired, but WAS hungry. Folded neatly on the chair in the corner, he found new clothes.
You like ‘em?
“You little shit,” he laughed aloud, unfolding the black cargo pants.
I love it! Thank you!
There were pockets and straps on them up and down the legs, and a matching black hooded sweatshirt and a black long-sleeved undershirt to go with them. There was also a pair of black leather boots with wicked looking soles and vacuum sealing instead of old style laces. He took a step forward; the boots were heavy.
Xyn pulled on the sweatshirt and fully dressed, stared into the mirror.
Be there in a few, he sent, his smile broad.

 Acer the Dealer leaned back in his chair as the Hunter waited for nightfall. The Hunter pulled the shocked little one close to him and used his Psi to put him to sleep. He was feeling fiercely protective at that moment, and he wondered. As the Hunter fumed, Rick Abrams sat at his desk sipping coffee. The Hunter was just nodding into a short nap when Abrams got the message.
“What do YOU want?” He demanded of the fat face on his screen.
“You and I need to talk, Ricky ol’ boy,” Acer stated.
“I have nothing to say to YOU,” Abrams replied, sipping at his coffee again.
“It’s about Xyn.”
Abrams spit coffee on his monitor.
“Come to the Club tonight,” Acer replied, “I have some video – on old old un-Networked digital media, for you to watch. I think you’ll find it very interesting.”
Abrams nodded, not caring if the connection were secure. His personal life, what little he had of one, was none of anyone’s business and if he went to some Club, well? Who could say anything? But he then secured the channel as the room’s lights dimmed.
“I thought I was rid of you long ago,” he grumbled as the fat man smiled.

Come in! Xyn heard Chriss send to him as he reached to knock on the door. He smiled and entered the room.
They had set up a small table in the room that Chriss and Adam shared, and it was heavily laden with food from a stolen Transport. Another table had been set up and readied, and it looked to Xyn as if they were planning a small party. Even Kefe was there, although his eyes were a bit bleary and he yawned a great deal.
Tym ran up to him and jumped into his arms. His excitement was so obvious that one didn’t need to be a Psion to sense it. “You like it? There’s even surprises too!”
“And how does one surprise a Psion?” Xyn asked innocently.
“NO cheating!” Tym demanded, and everyone laughed.
“Come and eat,” Shar implored, pulling out a chair. Her look was mysterious, and Psi or not, Xyn was sure that they were up to something.

Tym sat in his lap as they ate. There was plenty of food, and Xyn wondered at it. He was uncomfortable in taking it, though.
“Relax,” Adam told him, stuffing a bite of sausage into his mouth, “There’s plenty. That last Ship was flat-out loaded!”
“You should have seen it,” Dan added.
Xyn shook his head. “I didn’t help,” he explained glumly.
“THAT is not the issue,” Shar explained. “There is no point in your continued expeditions, Xyn Psion. Your body is fine and strong, your Psi is very nearly restored, but your heart still aches. All of us, and many of the Others, understand your pain. We also understand the sacrifice you have made, and why you have made it.”
Xyn looked around the table at his closest friends – his only friends other than the other Inmates at Facility 32, which felt like a lifetime ago. Only one face was missing, and as he thought it, everyone but Adam and Kefe looked up at him.
Xyn looked back at them all, down at the food, and then over to the corner where a stack of packages sat. He raised an eyebrow.
“Is this a going-away party?” he asked softly.
“Think of it as Unification Day come early,” Dan suggested.
Everyone smiled at him, and he was tempted to power up his Psi.
“Oh no,” Chriss grinned at him. “Eat, then we’ll open stuff. Besides, it’s not ALL for you!”
“I don’t get it,” Xyn replied, resuming his meal.
“You will,” Tym offered, attacking a mound of something that looked like pancakes.

When they were finished, all of them having eaten more than was probably good for them, Tym jumped up and ran to the pile of boxes.
“Now?” he asked excitedly.
Shar nodded.
“I … I can’t accept gifts like this,” Xyn groped, not wanting to take something that he’d played no part in stealing.
But Tym was still smiling as he dropped a small and heavy box in Xyn’s lap. Xyn flinched and closed his legs instinctively.
Adam and Chriss laughed as Kefe groaned. “I don’t think you need to worry about that anymore,” Adam piped.
Xyn blushed, but he opened the package.

“Ye Gods,” he breathed in amazement, holding up the gift.
In his trembling hand he held a new blaster.
“Ya like it?” Kefe grinned at him. “It’s a Colt multi-action with full manual firing and 48 shot power cell along with customized user grips. It’s got infrared pulse guidance and broad-beam too. And once YOU fire it, no one else can!”
Xyn looked the Nightstalker. He was almost drooling, and Xyn raised an eyebrow.
“And I need this?” he asked in an amazed tone.
Kefe nodded quickly while Tym was passing more and more boxes around to them. Xyn watched as each of his friends, even Tym and Dan, opened packages that contained some kind of weapon, electronic device, or suspicious looking clothing. His stomach began to sink as the idea of what they were planning began to form in his Mind. The breakfast table was beginning to look like an Armory.

Finally, when Xyn opened a large box that contained what looked like body armor, he could contain himself no longer.
“Stop,” he finally said.
Everyone looked at him.
“I think you all probably have guessed by now what I’m doing, why I did all the things I did. I’ve been pretty rude and distant, and well, I’m going to come right out and say it. I can’t keep this stuff, but I think you all think that I need it because you’ve all assumed that I’m leaving to go after Jayk.”

Only Shar nodded, and she was smiling.
“I knew this long ago, Xyn Psion,” she said in a calm voice. “I would think less of you if you did NOT.”
“But why all of this? I mean, I’ve got my Psi back. Do I need this stuff?”
Kefe leered at him. “Yea,” he growled in a lusty tone.
Xyn looked confused. Everyone seemed too happy, and without his Psi up and running – out of respect for the surprises – he had no clue what to do or say. He WAS planning to leave, in fact, just as soon as he could figure out how to do it and GET to Far South! But how did they all seem to already know it? Was Shar or Chriss spying on him?
Finally, Shar stood up and smiled.
“Your friends deduced your plans without any Psionic aid, Xyn. They have been pained by your absence of late, all but Tym, and would be saddened if you were to leave.”
“But I am leaving,” Xyn replied, then gasped as Tym ran to the far end of the room and pulled back a wall hanging. His action exposed a small door, and he vanished through it.
“Oh, no,” Xyn began, getting up to follow him.
Shar stopped him, however, still smiling. Everyone was still smiling, and Xyn saw that he was still holding his new blaster. He set it down.
“Give him a moment, Xyn. It is not what you think,” she advised.
Xyn nodded. Finally the excitement of the others became too much, and Dan jumped up. “I can’t stand it anymore, Mother!” He shouted.
Very calmly, Shar arose and shook back her lustrous black hair. “Let us follow young Tym to his final surprise for you, then.”

They all went through the secret door that Tym had exposed. It led through a long and narrow corridor that sloped up gradually. It took them a while to reach the end, but when they did they emerged into a dimly lit and large room that Xyn guessed must be very near the surface. He blinked to adjust his eyes. Something very large was sitting in front of him, and it looked as if others were headed for him. His Defenses raised.

Everyone began to laugh and stopped walking. Xyn noticed that the shapes before him stopped as well, and then he too stopped. The remaining shape froze in place as a small movement above the object began to move with an illusion much like heat ripples. Xyn gasped, and the lights came on.

It took him a second to adjust his eyes again.

Before him sat a large Craft, and his Mind was filled with the view of ground and stars that Jayk had sent to him in their experience with the Hunter so long before. And on TOP of the craft, standing on the cockpit cover of it, was Tym.
His pale face and head of white hair were the only distinct forms to be focused upon, and Xyn was reminded of a passage he’d read to the little one night from an ancient text called The Apocalypse one night not long ago.

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat upon him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

Xyn turned to look at his friends and blinked. A chill passed through him, yet he continued to sweat.
He watched the little one slide down the nose of the sleek craft to land on his feet. He almost seemed to solidify and become clear as he stepped away from it and Xyn finally realized what he was seeing as the little one ran to him.
Tym was wearing a suit of pale gray and reflective body armor, expertly tailored down to his small size, that camouflaged him and made him almost invisible! The Craft was coated in the same type of armor, and Xyn realized at once that it would be virtually invisible to the naked eye and totally invisible to the crippled Comm-Tell tracking and communications systems!

“How … why … I mean, you all got this … for … what?!” Xyn fumbled.

They all laughed, but Xyn was still perplexed as Tym jumped into his arms and everyone moved in close to embrace them. Then it fully dawned on him.

“NO!” He blurted, bringing his Psi up to nominal levels.

Everyone, Shar included, nodded.

“That’s right, buddy,” Chriss was saying to Xyn as he stared at the Craft with visions of Jayk filling his Mind, “You’re leaving. We knew that. We also knew you’d need a ride.”
“So we sort of ‘found’ this on the last Transport we stole,” Adam added, “You wouldn’t believe what some of Kel’s old programs and the stuff we wired up to the Networks can do!”
“And it’s all ours!” Dan added excitedly.
“But … but I d-don’t know how to fly,” Xyn realized in shock. Then he jerked his head down and stared in horror at Tym’s wardrobe. His eyes filled.

“No,” he breathed, feeling the little one’s emotions and thoughts, “No, Tym, YOU can’t go! Take that armor off!”
The little one did his best to look crushed. He shook his pale head.
Xyn pulled him tight and buried his face in his shoulder. “I lost Jayk once,” he cried, “And I might not be coming back. If you go, I could lose you too and I can’t bear that! I can’t come back here, even if I succeed, knowing that it cost me YOU!”

But there were hands upon his shoulders, and Xyn’s Psi could feel them all. Everyone was with him. There was respect, faith, and hope – but above all, there was Love. His friends were with him, by his side, and they intended to stay there no matter what he said. Xyn looked up at the Craft again and smiled despite himself.
“So when do we leave?” Chriss asked innocently.

The next morning, just as Kefe and other Nightstalkers were coming off of duty, Xyn and Tym arose and got dressed. They put on skin-tight black undergarments first, which fit them much like Xyn’s old Facility Suit had. They then pulled on the body armor and boots, which fitted itself to their bodies with a sucking sound. Tym took a step back as Xyn flexed his arms, listening to the soft creaks of the armor. The little one watched in fascination as Xyn holstered his blaster and pulled on a backpack, which adhered itself to the back of his armor.
Almost as an afterthought, he reached into the closet and packed the well-worn and near exhausted Suit.
He picked up his helmet in one hand and took Tym’s small hand in the other as they set off for the impromptu hanger and the pale Craft.

They both felt the Minds of the Others who would follow after them as the entered. Their eyes swam as they tried to focus on the near invisible Craft. Xyn let Tym’s hand fall to his side as he placed the black helmet on his bald head. It hissed and sealed down to the torso piece, and he checked himself and Tym over one last time.

He raised his flawless face to behold the Craft, and saw Chriss and Adam, similarly dressed, standing before it. Kefe was there, rubbing his glowing cyan eyes. And beside him stood Dan. All of them were armed to the teeth.

Xyn nodded to his friends and slapped the helmet’s mirrored visor into place as his other hand pulled his blaster in one smooth movement. For a moment, time seemed to stop as he etched the appearance of his friends – armed for Battle – into his Mind. He connected with them all, forming a Psionic Link that could never be broken so long as he drew breath.

They all smiled back at him.

“Jesus is come, and he is PISSED OFF!” Adam shouted.