Imposition Page 6

  Just being near him was making Therse's heart race. Their shoulders brushed, only lightly, so much as to be a near-miss, and it sent a blush streaming across Therse's cheeks. He hated how easily he embarrassed sometimes and turned away to hide it.

  Then he remembered himself, and realized neither of them had said anything for a fair few minutes, and he was supposed to be giving a tour. “There's not much more to it, I'm afraid,” he offered, gesturing along the corridor.

  “And you say it used to be a warship?”

  “So it says. Not much sign of that now, though.”

  “Mhm.” Meitou caught Therse looking. “You want to ask me about being an Imperial.” The man smiled at him, beautiful and perfect, fine lines appearing in his pale skin forged from the many times he'd done it before.

  Therse scratched at his neck. “Yeah,” he said, reluctant now for some reason. “It's just that you weren't very forthcoming with information in the mess, so...”

  “Oh, I was just doing it to wind that guy up. What was his name..?”

  “Genham.”

  “Ah, that's right. ‘Gen', I noticed you called him.”

  “Yeah, he only likes that from people who know him, though.”

  “Noted.” Meitou made a wry smile like he'd gained some sort of ammunition.

  “So, where are you from, anyway?”

  “Shirresh Orbital, originally,” Meitou said, slipping his hands into his pockets. The most relaxed gesture Therse had seen him make yet. “Grew up there and went to military school in the Glier system after genetic selection —”

  “I've heard about that. Never knew if it was true or not. Haven't had a chance to ask before,” Therse said eagerly, smiling. He realized he was flirting; overly-obvious and rusty as hell, much to his personal mortification. He shook the expression from his face and resolved to maintain a professional attitude. It was unlikely a man like that was eligible anyway, or would want anything to do with him. “It's odd that only people with a certain genetic make-up are allowed in, though.”

  “Why? Makes perfect sense to me.” Meitou's full lips settled into a semi-smile. “Athletes, intellectuals; all are more likely to carry certain forms of certain genes that predispose them to success in those pursuits. Logical to extend that to selecting for an advanced military force.”

  “How do they know, though? I don't remember ever being tested.”

  “There isn't any ‘test'. Space Central Hub has a complete genetic record of all citizens. If you have what's needed for Imperial selection, they'll make contact at puberty. You get a choice whether to join or not, but who in their right mind would pass up an opportunity like that?”

  “So the rest of us are just the left over dregs who join the substandard military by choice, eh?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Why separate the two forces, though? Why not have the Imperials be part of the Navy? Seeing as everyone's at the ultimate command of the Hub anyway.”

  “The reason for that is...long and dull and political. Put simply, your Command and our Command don't get on very well. Inferiority complex on the part of your top brass, if you ask me. We just get on and do our jobs.”

  “I'm sure you're not biased in any way.”

  “Moi?” Meitou feigned offense.

  Therse laughed and tried very hard not to enjoy himself too much.

  “So, where are you and your friend headed?”

  “We're coming back from a years’ outpost at Epsilon, headed to Gogh to rendezvous with some of our other friends from the Navy training corps, then redeploying to Carbera.” Then he remembered. “Well, I might not be, but —”

  “Oh?”

  “I've had an offer to join Navy Central Command.” Meitou studied him carefully, and he blushed again. “You look less than thrilled about it.”

  “No, I'm really happy. It's what I've always wanted, so...”

  “Feeling guilty about leaving your crew-mate behind?”

  The man was impressively astute. “Something like that...”

  “You've known each other for a while then, you and Gen?”

  “Yeah. I've known him for about five years. Though we haven't always been on friendly terms.”

  “How come?”

  “The reason for that is also long and dull.” Therse laughed. “Let's just say we haven't always seen eye-to-eye.”

  “You seem to get along well enough now though.” Therse got the distinct feeling he was under scrutiny.

  “Yeah, I guess we do.” He smiled, remembering the other day in the biohabitat. Remembering the feeling of Gen under his fingertips. “How about you, where are you headed?”

  Meitou grinned. “Couldn't possibly say.” Therse smirked and shook his head. “But like I said, we're only hitching a lift. We're not going to be with you all the way to Gogh, it's just that... your ship's engines can run a little faster than mine...with the correct modifications.”

  Therse narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah,” he said, leaning in and speaking in a hushed voice. “What's with your ship?”

  “What do you mean?” Meitou said, puzzled.

  “It seems a bit...eccentric.”

  Meitou just smiled at him. “All our ship AIs are like that. That's just how they're generated. Navy and Imperial AIs are a little different. The side effect of that engineering is that they're quite talkative.”

  “So I see.”

  “You get used to it. Though they can be a pain in the arse from time-to-time,” Meitou announced loudly, as though to someone else who might have been listening in on their conversation.

  “Will you be staying on your own ship or staying here?”

  “Probably here, I don't see why not. May as well make a break of it while I've got the opportunity.” Their shoulders brushed again as Therse came to a stop, only this time the contact was definite. Meitou looked at him. He looked away quickly, avoiding Meitou's gaze.

  Therse felt awkward all of a sudden. “Well, this is my stop,” he said, pointing a thumb at the door. “If you have any more questions I'm sure the ship—your ship, will -”

  “Thanks,” Meitou said, smiling. The sort of smile that answered some of the questions Therse really wanted to ask.

  He felt the blush spreading to his body.

  * * * *

  Gen shuffled sulkily up the corridor to Therse's quarters, replaying their conversation with the Imperial earlier. The guy was an elitist, obviously. Gen could tell that just from the way he carried himself, all airs and composure. And from that smart, sharp tongue. He was seriously annoyed at himself for getting so irritated so easily and for losing his usual cool. He couldn't quite tell what it was about Meitou that put him so badly out of joint, and he was still ruminating on it as he neared Therse's door.

  Perhaps it was the man's overwhelming arrogance, the way he'd showed up uninvited

  and made himself at home aboard their ship. The way he'd just taken over everything. Whatever it was, Gen was sure it would all be clearer after he'd talked it through with Therse. Most things were.

  He wafted a hand at the door console and the door slid open. They'd decided from the start of the voyage that locks were unnecessary, and he'd gotten used to just wandering in whenever he wanted.

  The first words of his sentence got only halfway out of his mouth before they shriveled and died on his tongue. For a moment, he was paralyzed by shock, unable to move, only capable of staring drop-jawed at the proceedings he'd disturbed.

  Then he regained his senses enough to turn back out into the corridor, managing a mumbled “Sorry, I didn't —” until the thread of that sentence too became lost in the churning mire of his mortified embarrassment.

  He did the only thing that made any sense at the time and ran off down the hall.

  Therse called out, but Gen pretended not to hear him.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  4: CORRECT USAGE OF AFTERBURNERS

  The next time Gen saw Meitou was always g
oing to feel far too soon. It was the morning after, in the mess hall. Meitou sidled over to where Gen was sitting, smooth and relaxed, as though he wasn't fazed by Gen's interruption the previous night in the slightest. Gen remembered them fucking again and blushed deeply.

  “Morning,” Meitou said with a smile, approaching the coffee machine.

  Gen grunted in reply. It was all he felt like.

  “Coffee. Black.” He heard the man say.

  The little machine did nothing.

  “Coffee. Black,” Meitou repeated, with careful enunciation.

  “You have to...” Gen muttered, making a prodding gesture.

  Meitou stared at him. “This is manual? Wow, I had no idea we were riding something so antiquated.”

  “What do you expect, this is a back-water route,” Gen said into his palm. He tapped his foot against the table and took a sip of coffee. “It's good enough for Navy.”

  Meitou smirked, sipping at the brown liquid. He spat it out into the vacuum port and poured the rest of the cup away along with it. “Christ, that tastes like shit.”

  Gen had to concede he was right, in that respect. He inspected his own cup, then noticed Meitou was leaning back against the side, looking at him. Scrutinizing him in the same way a clever officer might.

  “What?” he said, feeling himself straighten for some reason.

  “Are you mad?”

  “About what?”

  “Exactly my point.”

  A few moments of silence passed, where they simply stared at one another as Gen grew steadily more annoyed. Eventually he looked away.

  “He's out for a run, by the way. But you probably already knew that, right? He said he does it every morning.”

  “Mm.”

  “Know each other well, then?”

  “Sure. Five years.” Gen wasn't sure why, but he was speaking as deep and gravelly as possible.

  Meitou pursed his lips and nodded. “Wow, that's quite a while. You can get to know quite a lot about a person in that time. You didn't know he was gay though, did you?”

  Gen rubbed at the back of his neck.

  “With a reaction like yesterday's, I didn't think so. I can't believe he never told you.” Light laughter that made Gen want to crush the cup in his hand. “Even more surprising you never figured it out on your own. I mean, I've barely been on the ship five minutes and I've already figured it out. So to speak.”

  “That's different.”

  “I don't see how.” Meitou's voice was rich and arrogant like it had been just the day before, when Gen had lost his cool.

  “Well, I haven't tried fucking him before, and I've certainly never asked, so how —”

  “'Before'?”

  “Don't twist my words!”

  “I'm not doing anything. They're your words, Genham.”

  Gen stood up and tipped the rest of his coffee away.

  “Are you jealous?” Meitou asked him.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he shot back.

  The man just laughed. Once, softly. He unfolded his arms and straightened up, waving a hand at Gen and smiling. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Some bad habits I just tend to slip back into. You're just simmering so close to the surface it's difficult not to want to make you boil over. You probably don't even know it...haha, there I go again, just ignore me. Oh, and you might want to be more careful which doors you barge through in future. You never know where they might lead,” he said with a farewell wink, and walked off humming. Gen just stood there and stared after him.

  * * * *

  Gen was still in the mess, staring out of the window at nothing in particular, when Therse arrived later.

  “Hi,” Therse said, meeting his gaze guiltily. Gen didn't respond, didn't shift position from his spot by the window as Therse fetched himself a drink.

  He sat down near where Gen was standing and placed his mug on the table, leaning his mouth against his knuckles and making a noise like a sigh as Gen sat down opposite him. Therse looked like he was trying to find the right place to begin.

  Gen made it easier for him. “Are you gay?”

  Therse just looked at him for a moment, then nodded.

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  A guilty look. “Now?”

  Gen glared back at him.

  Therse adjusted his position and leaned back in his chair, still gripping the mug with both hands on the table. “I don't know. There was never a right time.”

  “I think any time before now would have been the right time.” Gen stood up and made to leave.

  “What did you want me to do? What should I have said? Oh, here's those schematics you wanted to look over, and by the way, I like to fuck men?”

  “That would have been better than me finding you balls-deep in some guy's ass. A guy who, by the way, we don't even know.”

  “Oh, who the hell are you, my mother? I bet if he'd been a woman you wouldn't have given two shits. Hell, you'd probably have been jealous I was the one getting laid.”

  “How long have you known?”

  Confusion flickered over Therse's face. “What?”

  “Hey, I figure we might as well get it all out in the open now, while you're in the mood for sharing. How long have you known you were gay?”

  “I don't know, a long time.”

  “Before I knew you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Before you enlisted?”

  “Yes! Look —”

  “Do the others know?” Therse looked away. Gen pressed him. “Do they know?”

  “Look, I don't know! I think Mal probably suspects, but I haven't told anyone else, if that's what you're asking.”

  “All this fucking time and you never said anything. To any of us.”

  Therse looked away and rubbed his fingers over his mouth. Then he glanced back. “Are you actually mad at me?”

  “Yes, I'm fucking mad at you.”

  “Why the fuck does it even matter?”

  “This is a huge thing, and you never told me. Every fucking time we were out together and I tried to get you hooked up with some girl, every double date I took you on, every woman I pointed out to you, this whole time it was all fucking pointless and you knew but said nothing. At any point you could have turned around and said, ‘actually I'm gay'. Any time. I just don't fucking get why you never said anything.”

  “Look, there was...there was just never the right time —”

  “Yeah, you said that already.”

  Therse rubbed his forehead.

  A thought occurred to Gen. “Wait. Did you think that I'd react to it or something? Did you think I'd take it badly?”

  “No! It was nothing like that.”

  “Fuck you. If you'd think that for even a moment, then fuck you.”

  Therse stood, his expression darkening. “It wasn't that at all.”

  “Then what?” Gen yelled, holding his arms out wide. “What stopped you telling me for four fucking years if it wasn't that?”

  “What the fuck difference does it make anyway?” Therse shouted back. “So I like to screw men! So what? So fucking what?”

  The words bounced off Gen's back as he stormed out of the mess.

  * * * *

  He was still astonished by Gen's reaction. Of all the ways to take it, Therse had never imagined he'd be pissed. Sure, he didn't find out in the best way, but Therse was more mortified about it than he imagined Gen could ever be.

  Therse had lost track of how long he'd been wandering around the corridors of the ship, trying to get his head around what to do next.

  He felt like he should apologize for not telling Gen sooner, but it would be difficult to explain why exactly he'd held out for so long. And anyway, he was damned if he would be the one to apologize first after Gen's idiotic overreaction. And it was an overreaction. He was only secretly gay, not secretly planning to commit genocide.

  He looked up and noticed Meitou coming towards him. Seeing him again made Therse's stomach do somersaults.

/>   “Hey.”

  “You look troubled.” Meitou's lips pulled up at one corner as Therse watched them.

  “Yeah, well,”

  “Lovers’ tiff?”

  “...No...He just didn't take it too well that I've been lying to him for years.”

  “Lying?”

  “Technically, I guess, I never made it clear...”

  “Why lie about it?”

  “I don't know...” he shrugged. “Look, it really has nothing to do with you,”

  “Right, right.” Meitou waved a hand. “Just give him some time to cool off.”

  “I think it's going to take a little more than that. There was yelling on both parts.”

  “He'll come around. You're his closest friend, right? He's got no choice. Wounds like this always seem deeper when they're fresh.” Meitou's hand rested on Therse's shoulder. “Once you've let the dust settle, things won't seem so bad.”

  Therse could feel the intensity of Meitou's gaze. The effects of that look went straight to his groin.

  He sloped his shoulder so Meitou's hand slipped off. “He's right you know. I don't know

  anything about you.”

  Meitou's gaze was cool, determined. “All you need to know you already do.”

  “I've never fucked a guy without even knowing his name before.”

  “You know my name.”

  “Your full name. Or anything else about you.”

  “Why, need something more to shout out next time?”

  Therse raised an eyebrow. “'Next time'?”

  Meitou just smiled at him, a self-assured, intoxicating sideways grin that set something alight in Therse's gut. He felt himself beginning to give in already, before a proposal had even been made. Meitou stepped closer.

  Therse decided to put a stop to it before it started. Doing it the first time had really been bad enough.

  He put his hands out as Meitou was leaning in, his palms meeting the soft material covering the man's chest. He could feel the stiff, taut muscle beneath, and the night before came flooding back. “Look, I don't know.”

  “Yes, you do,” Meitou said, voice low and close to a whisper. He leaned in and pressed against Therse's outstretched hands, tilting his head to speak into Therse's ear. “You're already hard just from thinking about it.”