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- - 1 - -
 

"Hot damn! You made it!" And Shon's bounding across the garage, hugging me until I hear something crack. I nearly fall back on my bike.
"Ow. Yeah, it was dicey... Lemme go, you goof." And he backs away, arms still out in front of him, head cocked to one side, that coyote-leer. "Real good to see y- wow, lookit all the tats!" I razz him. He looks like he's about to blush - so I pull off my jacket, and he sees all the new artwork on my arms.
"Yeah. You're a fine one to talk," he crows. He's wiry, shaggier. A few more wrinkles. Laugh lines, I guess. But that description, it fits me just as well.

"Beer, or Jack?" he says.
"Neither," I say, looking around. That stops him in his tracks. "Yet."
He nods at this, chuckling. "Uh huh. Reckon after you've checked the place out, you'll relax some. It's gonna have to be booze... unless you brought something else, for a housewarming present -"
"Would I go and forget?" He grins even bigger. "Later. So, this is it, huh?"
"This is it," he says, nodding.
"Where's the chicks?"
"Shee-it. One thing at a time."

We lock up the garage, which is a separate fortress altogether, and he shows me around. Backup power, several kinds of radios, and these big pulse-emitters that can sorta bathe the area in audio. Ultrahigh frequencies seem to mess with the hunter-ticklers. The science dudes don't know exactly what frequency yet...
Another bank of modified Geiger counters, except they're for reading longer-wave energy. Big motion detectors, according to the mad scientist guy. Shon, he got some physicists at Stanford interested in our situation. They love a challenge. Built this place from the ground up - well, from underground. They're staked out in the nearest town, which is like eight miles away.
Shon calls Lia, who's at this monitoring post. She patches the professor through. The guy sounds okay on the speakerphone. All embarrassed 'cause the videophone isn't working, at the post - there's a replacement being flown in, and we still have all the radios. If this was a real scientific study like he'd publish in the egghead journals, everything would be recorded. But this is more of a test run, just gathering info, and later his guys will be sneaking up on the sensors and trying to break in.
He makes a big point of telling me there isn't any inside surveillance gear. No mikes or cameras. If they can see we're caught, it's too late to do anything about it anyway.
I ask him if there's a timetable for us to check in with his people... every eight hours or whatever. He says no, they hashed that out and it doesn't prove anything except that we're still in here. Even with code phrases. I don't quite get this, but Shon nods. After a lot of talking about it, they didn't come up with a sure-fire way of calling for help without possibly leading the fuckers right to the bunker. The other thing that bothers me is that there's no phone. A lot of radios, two generators that are well-protected - but no wires, no mobile phone sending out its little signals to give us away. Makes me nervous, even after they explain the logic behind it.
The head doc's still in Palo Alto but he'll be out "very soon", coming by a roundabout route, and he doesn't even want us to know what it is. Playing it safe.
The doc hangs up, and Lia has me repeat some sentences. Voice analysis. All very weird. All is well at their little outpost - except that Kurt, one of the grad students, is late for his shift. But no big deal, the guy's a major horndog, out shagging a waitress likely as not...
"Or he's hogtied and laughin' his ass off, likely as not," Shon drawls after he signs off. "You sure you didn't bring any company with ya?"
I look at him, not sure if he's kidding or not. Until he grins. "Yeah. Fucker. Besides, it sounds like Kurt bought it before I got here. How careful were you?"

Everything, from the air shafts to the escape tunnels to the garage, is fortified. Thick doors and hatches. Solar panels and propane tanks, all caged. Sorta like being in a submarine, with six months' worth of stores.
"By then, we'll know," Shon says, looking around thoughtfully.
I eat smoke and think this over. "Why Georgia?"
"Close to home." It takes me a second to remember he's from Jacksonville. "Naw, I'm kidding. Don't matter. I just remembered this stretch of hills from an old road trip. Didn't stay here, so there's no history for 'em to dig up. We're testin' the gear, mainly. See if we can hide out, then try to narrow down what works."
"These Stanford guys, can we count on 'em. Really?"
"Yeah, they're cool. We got every base covered we could think of. If we yell for help, they'll be here."
"And if we don't? Yell, I mean? When will they just come on their own? Or anybody else, for that matter?"
He scratches his chin. "No, but that's the point, sorta. We talked about it. If we're found out, they're not gonna be able to get here before we're carted off somewhere else. And if they camped out closer, they could tip the fuckers off. Naw, this place is fully self-contained. We got a couple ways out, even without 'em. And besides, if anybody comes out here, they might lead the hunter right to us..."

"Dude. Al-right," he says, pulling the herb out of the box I brought. It's from Berry, shipped through five or six cities. I barely made the pickup before racing down here. There's a couple scripts in it too, and some papers. A bunch of Mexican candy bars, one of which gets lobbed over to me.
"Good ol' Berry," Shon says, around a big mouthful of caramel, shuffling through the documents.
"Miracle worker Berry. Your PR's tight, D. Your publicists, it's like they don't even need you around."
He shrugs. Flips through a few more pages. "It's crazy. The offers... seven mil. Four-and-a-half plus three points. Can you believe it? Built this place, and I'm still worth more than I was a year ago. Well, two years ago..." He tosses the papers on the long couch, holding on to an envelope. He looks it over...
And leers.
"Guess who," he says with a smirk.

"Maybe it's a fake," I say, none too happy.
He shakes his head, re-reading the letter. "Nope. She's using the code phrases. Even got 'em all right."
"Our codes?"
"Naw. I made up other ones for her." When did this have time to happen, I wonder... But I let it pass for now. And what the hell was Barry thinking when he forwarded something from that loon, anyway?

The letter is hard to swallow. Seems Ciuna has been in touch with her, uh, creation. I can't believe what I'm hearing...
She struck a deal.

One more long-ass marathon. "Very, very long". Starting any time now.
But that'll be the last really long workout - ever - if we deliver ourselves, toned and strong, together, to the original fucker annually. Two weeks a year. Indefinitely.
But only the two weeks. They'll call off the dogs. No other tickler will touch us. Plenty of other fish in the sea, now...
Not even a penalty for all Shon's efforts to foil it, all the research - they're amusing to watch, and it doesn't see 'em as any real threat.
We pick when, so long as it's two continuous weeks. And if we try to blow it off - then we'd get worked over for two months.
There was some vague caution about "crafted thoughts". And, supposedly, a direct quote: seven hundred six and closing.

I realize, right about then, that I'm gritting my teeth. Get up, light a cigarette, go into the kitchen for a beer.
"Hey, get me one," Shon says after I open mine. I set it down in front of him, shove the papers off the couch and land heavily.
He fidgets. "What's wrong?"
"'What's wrong.' You son of a bitch. Just tell me you didn't know... about this - this deal... before tellin' me to come down here."
"I didn't," he says defensively. "I swear it. It was her idea. I didn't think she'd go and do it. Hell, I never thought it would actually have to bargain with her -"
"She's done enough already."
"Aw, D. I know you don't believe it, but she's trying to make it right. Ever since we first had to run."
"Ever since..." I get a bad thought. He's not that dumb, is he? "You... you didn't -"
He looks down and starts to grin.
"You fucked her again!"
"Uh..."
"You fucked her again?"
"January. I think. Those nipples, I tell ya." I just sit there, shooting daggers at him. "Well, dammit, I had to loop Ignition, didn't I? They were out of time and everybody except me was in the can. I was holdin' it up. So, yeah, afterward I snuck her up to Carpenteria - and ooooooo, hoo hoo, was it sweet..."
"Y'know," I say slowly, "Fuck whoever you want. That's your business -"
"Uh-huh."
"But dammit. You don't tell me until after I'm in here?"
He rolls his eyes. "C'mon. I never thought she'd pull this off."
"Or has she been pullin' your strings all along?"
"Now hold on," he protests. "Just... That's just nuts."
"She got us again," I laugh. "Both of us, in this cellblock. I'm outa here."
He's off the couch like a shot. "No you're not. Too risky."
"What do you mean? I just got here -"
"Kurt," he said quietly. "The missing tech."

I shook my head. College kid, gettin' laid. So what... AWOL. That's what. Picked to be here by a really smart Stanford professor. Wouldn't he manage to keep it zipped up and do his job? Or is he whooping the afternoon away somewhere... getting secrets tickled out of him? Which thing - in this totally bizarre life we led - was more likely?
"I told you, before you came."
That pisses me off. "No you didn't. Not a word... I mean, If I knew you were still fuckin' her -"
"Not that. Shit. Once you got here, we're both staying put. Until the doc says the coast is clear." He looks at me, kinda pleading.
And that much is true. "Yeah. You did say that. Fuck."
"I thought you trusted me," he says, sounding hurt.
"I do. That's not the problem, and you know it."
He digs for a smoke and glares at me. "One thing I know about, is acting. She's no actress. She's changed. Just like we have. All this shit that's happened -"
"Oh. You think that up all on your own, or did she maybe tweak your thoughts some more? 'Ciuna Says'?"
He's irked. "Hey, asshole, you didn't think I was her little robot before. Didja? This is me you're talkin' to, here."
I close my eyes. "Alright. Let's leave this one alone. Until we're really high."
He stares for a second, eyes real narrow...and then he nods. I go mess around with my saddlebags and start unpacking, and he scrounges up some dinner.

We get stoned, and pass a bottle back and forth.
"I'm not whipped," Shon insists, slurring his words.
"The hell."
He leers at me, trying to focus, from his end of the couch. "Betcha I'm not the only one who went back in time..." He waits expectantly. "Huh?"
I don't answer right away, and he smells victory, so he cackles at me. I hooked up with my ex-girlfriend again, last year. She was at a shoot in Texas. "Yeah. 'course, at least Bunny didn't sic any fuckin'... hands. Magic hands. On me," I mumble.
"Would if she could. Keep ya in line."
"Still..." We load up. "So, what's the deal," I ask him, "with seven hundred and six?"
He thinks for a second. "Beats the fuck outa me."

I have no confidence in this "deal" that's been made. All the head games we've gone through...
Shon's got a different take on it: We can get lied to all night long, but Ciuna's in a different position. She had power over the original tickler, once. Maybe it can't lie to her. A gamble. Like we got anything to lose by trying?
No more running. We could work again. Live in the same place for more than a month at a time, not have to hide anymore...

 
- - 2 - -
 

"Deck. Dude..."
My head is killing me. I ignore him.
He kicks the bed a couple more times."Hey. C'mon."
"Wha - what?"
"What letter does zero stand for?"
I squint at him. "Is this a joke?"
He frowns. "Maybe, instead of seven hundred and six, it's supposed to be seven-oh-six. F-something-G."
"Like... fag? Fog? You sure it's a code?"
"Nope, not at all," he says, smirking." I thought maybe it was a stock exchange code. 'Seven-oh-six and closing'..."
I yawn at him. "Good try. Shit... you woke me up for that? There better be some coffee on. Asswipe."

We watch some tube, smoke a couple joints...
Give the Stanford geeks a yell. The professor's expected to arrive later in the day... And Kurt still hasn't checked in. Shon and I look at each other.
"Not good," he says.
"You thinkin' what I..." And I get an idea. Pick up the microphone. "Hey, uh, I got a question. What does the number 706 stand for?"
A few seconds pass. "Nothing. Wait - I'm checking something... Huh. It's the area code."
I close my eyes. Dammit.
"Here?" Shon wonders.
I nod. "Lemme make sure I heard that right. This area code? It's 706?"
"Affirm."
"Shit," I mumble.
"'706 and closing', huh?"
"Yeah."
He sighs. "Guess we're gonna get to find out how solid the defenses are, here."

About halfway through a movie, Shon gets fidgety. "Aw, let's watch a different flick..."
I look at him for a few seconds, thinking, where do I know that expression from -
"Why? "
He looks embarrassed. "Shit. Uh, this is a dog, the script really sucks," and he gestures at the TV. And he gulps.
I remember - same as at Coldwater. He's all worked up. Gotta jack off. "Horn...dog, " I laugh.
He shakes his head, all sheepish. "Actually this ain't goin' anywhere, until - Look, I'm gonna -"
"Check. You want me to, ah, pause the tape?"
"Fuck you!" he says, mock outrage. Laughing, but in a big ol' hurry to get to his room and get some relief.

He's relaxed when he shows up again... but still kinda spacey. So am I, for the same reason. Not drunk enough...
We shoot the shit for awhile, but we're both distracted. We laugh about it, and turn in at like ten o'clock. Ridiculous. Shon digs out a tape in a plain black case and wheels the TV and VCR into his room.
I take a long time to get myself off... and it's fine. And I'm still keyed up, so I do it again.

 
- - 3 - -
 

The next morning, I wake up horny. It's kinda... baffling.
I walk out to the kitchen, take one look at Shon - he looks tired, but still in heat. "Mornin'. You too?"
He looks puzzled, then shakes his head, grinning away. "Uh-huh. Ain't normal."
"No. Kinda suspicious."
"Well, I don't know what's causing it. I've been eating this food, suckin' down this beer, for a day longer than you. Two days, almost. Didn't walk around with an iron rod in my pants 'til yesterday."
"Pheromones, or something?"
He snorts at that. "Yeah, right. Might work on me, maybe... if you were doused with 'em before you got here. But that doesn't explain you. What about the weed? Any... suspicious gaps in the route it took, to get here?"
"Nope. I waited for it to arrive in Charleston, and putted right here."
We dig out the shipping box. Six days, six cities. "Not unless the hunter got to Berry -"
He shakes his head quickly. "Nah, he's had plenty of chances to tip 'em off. It's got no leverage on him. Probably Kurt. It's got ways of makin' him talk."
"You know it."
"Sing like a fuckin' mockingbird."

Shon's quieter than usual. More preoccupied.
After a while, it gets to be ridiculous. I'm ready to rut. Seriously ready. I keep coming back to the idea that Shon must've done something to the food, dosed it with E or something. Real funny. And then I remember putting lunch together myself, yesterday. Almost all of it out of cans. Not very much opportunity to slip a hit in there... and we were just as driven when we woke up this morning. That's not his style of kidding around, anyway.
It doesn't feel like a body thing. Well, not a chemical thing. More like my brain can't let go of the need. Swamped by it, zoned.

We watch another movie, and I couldn't concentrate on it. Neither of us feel like scaring up lunch, much less eating it. I try reading one of the scripts Barry had sent, but it's pointless.
My thoughts keep coming back to the peaks of the most fantastic sex I'd ever had. Sara, my first girlfriend, after we'd been together about a month... right after a nice, grueling second round, and nowhere else to be the next day. The waitress who dared me to cut school on my eighteenth birthday, and spent the afternoon teaching me how to hang in there until she was ready to finish too. And even Bunny - that one time with her in La Jolla, so insane. Powerful.
Why am I obsessing on it? Old history...

We fire up the Nintendo for a while, and then watch a football game. Sometimes I actually get into the game. There's a lull in the third quarter, though -
And I think of Marta. Of course. Not the best sex I ever had, but the first. How amazing...
I run with this for a while. A long time. And I look over and see Shon grinning at me.
"What are you thinkin' about?"
"Nuthin."
"Looks like you just ate a canary."
I do everything but blush. "Forget it."
"No, c'mon..."
"Uh... I was, uh, thinking about the first time... um -"
He loses the smirk and sits up all of a sudden. "You mean... losin' your cherry?" I nod at him, busying myself with getting a cigarette. "So was I."
"What?"
"The first time I got laid." He looks spooked.
"Huh. What're the odds, both of us, same time?"
"Not good. You, uh, often think about that?"
I shake my head right away. "No. It's been years."
He nods. "Some 'coincidences', I just don't like. Dig?"
"No, c'mon. How could a tickler be doin' that?"
He swallows hard. "It'd have to be close by, to do that. Mess with our thoughts."
"Close? You mean... like in here? Inside?"
We both look around nervously. Yeah, like that would help... And finally, I say, "I don't see how. Probably it's just gotten better at, like, transmitting. Could be pretty close, to here. I mean, if it had breached the place already -"
"We'd be strapped down right now," Shon says, eyes real big.

He checks the cameras and the motion detectors. Everything seems alright.
Simon, at the monitoring post, says the meters all look normal. Lia's fine, she just went back to the motel. No, Kurt's still AWOL...
We just nod at each other. "We're kinda thinkin' he's... uh... been diverted," Shon says.
Several long seconds go by.
"Copy that," Simon eventually says. "Look. Uh. I don't want to alarm you -"
"Fuck!" I yell.
"But... uh... there's two other no-shows. A guy, and a girl."
"Yeah, copy that," Shon chuckles, rubbing his nose. He gets an idea. "Are they..." And he puts his hand over the mike. "Dude, I need a word here."
I look at the floor. "Uh... Susceptible."
He blinks, and nods as if he can get behind that. He uncovers the mike. "Susceptible? To the... kind of persuasion? Same kind we are?" And he's lookin' pleased with himself -
"Don't know," Simon replies. "The main dude does. We're trying to raise him now. He's en route."
"Copy that."
"We gotta assume -"
But Simon cuts me off. "We gotta figure that's affirm, though. Play it safe."
Safe.
We both snort at that.

"Dammit...," he says, right after he jumps back on the couch. "I feel like we're being watched."
I shrug. "I'm not getting it. You mean, like, here in the room?"
"No..." He thinks a few seconds, then shakes his head. "Nerves, probably. C'mon... let's get high."
"Suits."

After going to bed - and jacking off...
I look at the ceiling and think, it does feel like I'm being watched. Every second. Faint, though. From a distance?
But eventually I drift off.

 
- - 4 - -
 

Next day, we're both in a better mood. Whatever. We'll see what happens.

Ignoring a soap opera on the tube, I pass a joint back to Shon, who's telling me about a play he did years ago. He's not making a lot of sense, but I just figure that's because I'm really loaded.
He quits talking, and eventually I catch on. "So then what?" No response. Thinking he fell asleep, and I better snag the roach before it burns something. "Dude," I say, sitting up -
But his eyes are wide open. Glassy, yeah, but still...
"D?"
He takes a while before he looks over. "Oh. Deck. I got an idea."
"So what else is new?" I say, snapping my fingers.
He hands me the joint, shooting me a wild look. "I really wanna see what's outside. Really, really wanna -"
"You're stoned."
"Yeah..."
I start a toke and see him start to get up. "Shon."
"Just real quick, two seconds -"
"Siddown."
He's standing. I throw the roach toward the ashtray and get up, grab his shoulder. He shucks my hand -
"Hey! Stop. Stop right there."
He hesitates, and I get in front of him. "Think about it, Deckster. Don't you wanna know?"
I open my mouth - and get a new thought. All of a sudden, that's a really interesting idea. Open the door. See what there is to see.
Something's not right here. I look at Shon, and he nods, big and goofy. "This is so cool, let's do it -"
No. Wait.
Shon pushes me out of the way, but friendly-like. He's gone, heading for the door, and I wanna...
Gotta do something. I look around frantically. The stereo. Stumble over to it, flick it on, crank the knob -
Black Flag, full volume. I cover my ears, and Shon jumps. Turns around, real pissed.
Eventually I find the volume knob and bring it down halfway. "Hey," I hear myself saying, "What were we... about to do, here?"
A few seconds later, his jaw drops slowly...

"It woulda been workin' us over already," Shon says again.
"Oh, c'mon. It was in our head. Heads. How much closer could it get?"
He shakes his head. "I still say it was broadcasting, somehow. High-power -"
"Shit. I've never felt anything like that, from a distance. Neither have you."
"Maybe it's right outside, then. But it can't get in."
I don't believe him, sometimes. "If you're wrong, we're screwed."
"Yup." He sighs hard. "Well... we sorta figured it would go this way. Hey - at least all that wave-emitter shit's still working."
I just look at him. He grins, and pops me on the arm.
"Cheer up, D. We're finding out what'll work -"
"Or what won't work. Alright, then. Fuckin' goofball. Right now I wanna go check the tunnels and the garage. And the radios."

All is well with the bikes and the truck. The garage door is full of sensors - all working, all green. The big tunnel, from the garage, has three hatches and a couple of those high-frequency emitters. A smaller pipe comes out in the kitchen. Everything looks okay...
And then we try to raise the monitoring post. There's no answer.
I look over the radios, and Shon pulls out a spare antenna. We're definitely transmitting... weaker on the inside antenna, but enough to reach the post.
I rig up a loopback. No doubt about it. The problem's on their end.
"Huh," Shon says. We trade a couple ideas about what's probably going on there - are their radios all smashed up right now? Or maybe they're still on, but the crew's been hauled off to wherever Kurt is.
No phone. No escape van coming. And if we tear outa here in the truck or on the bikes, it'll be on us like a magnet. The tunnels look okay, but we can't really be sure - supposedly they can't be opened from the outside...
"We're on our own," I finally say.
"Well," he drawls, "We got everything we need here. Looks like it's a siege."

On to Part 2
 

Back to TM Origin - Variation P

20oct2002