Calvinus
The Island of the Lost Scouts
Summary
It was meant to be the scouting opportunity of a life time, the perfect international scout camp set on an idyllic island where boys and girls from all over the world came together for one glorious summer. That was the plan, but then the event happened, and all the adults vanished and the scouts were left to fend for themselves, until the day a stranger walked into camp. Toby and George did not know how life altering that day would be, as they struggled to understand what had happened, where the stranger had come from, and how they would ever get home.
36,000 words (72 pages)
Characters
Toby (11yo), George (10yo), and other scoutsJethro Raymond (adult)
Category & Story codes
Science-Fiction storybb Mb – cons/non-cons piv – transgender spank ws
(Explanation)
Disclaimer
If you are under the legal age of majority in your area or have objections to this type of expression, please stop reading now.If you don't like reading stories about men having sex with boys, why are you here in the first place?
This story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life.
It is just a story, ok?
Author's note
Thank you for taking the time to send feedback to the author through this feedback form with Calvinus – The Island of the Lost Scouts in the subject line.
Chapter 1
Stranger in the Camp
"Watch it!"
George ducked the swinging gorse branch, staggering back as the thorny yellow flowered wood whistled past his nose.
"Sorry!" Toby called back, with a shrug and a giggle. George scowled, but said no more. Toby was not exactly careful about those following him, but he was also impervious to verbal argument, and the boys were too tired from their shelter building activity to bother with the more traditional means of argument resolution among scouts – a kick in the bum. He would just have to employ a Chinese burn later on.
As they emerged from the gorse bush they could see the camp just ahead now. The smell of the camp fire carried on the wind, and the green canvas of the tents formed a neat semi circle that looked as welcoming as ever.
"Last one back is a girl," shouted Toby as he broke into a run. George sighed and loped after him. That Chinese burn was going to be well deserved.
But as they approached the camp, Toby's run faltered and George caught him up and stopped too. Something was not right. All the boys were there, standing around the fire. And there was someone else too.
Both boys stopped and stared, a mixture of hope and fear welling up inside them.
***
At the start of the summer this island had seemed such an idyllic place. Toby and George had been on the same boat from the mainland, and the serene little harbour had been a welcome relief after the choppy seas that had seen George lose his lunch over the side. The boat had slid into the most beautiful of island coves, a shallow sandy channel nestled between three small islands. The only building was an ancient chapel, but the place was already bustling with the signs of life that one of the scouting movement's most prestigious camps would bring.
Already scouts from all corners of the world were gathering and making these islands their summer home, setting up cooking fires, pitching tents protected from the sea winds by the a copse of trees, digging drainage ditches and a huge pit for the latrine, setting up makeshift showers and setting out activities like zip wires and archery targets and all the other paraphernalia the camp would bring. Kayaks were being unloaded from another supply boat and a crocodile of boys were carrying them to the dock where they would be secured.
Every type of uniform was on display. Cubs, scouts, venture scouts and brownies of course, but also different colours and styles from all over the world. There were national flags draped over tents and as the boys stepped off the boat, they heard chatter in at least three languages all at once.
They had arrived at Camp Kobuntu – the international scouting venue – a camp for just a small lucky selection of the thousands of boys and girls who had applied to be a part of this unique experience.
But that had been two months ago. For a week things had been amazing, with boat trips to other islands, sailing, archery contests and paintball and all manner of enjoyable activities. But one fateful night, as they had sat around the campfire following a kayaking activity, something terrifying had happened. As darkness had fallen and they tucked into their evening meal, there was a strange and terrible screaming in the forest like someone was being murdered! The leaders had run off to investigate, putting the older scouts in charge of getting the younger ones to bed. Suddenly, though, there had been strange lights in the sky, and an earthquake. A tsunami had followed the earthquake, swamping the beaches and damaging the boats, and as the sky lit up and the screaming got worse, it had felt to everyone as though the world was about to end 3; until silence fell.
No one got much sleep that night, and when the leaders did not return, a sense of panic enveloped everyone – made worse when the morning mail boat did not arrive. Over the next few days other strange things happened. Some of the boys claimed to have seen a ghost, and others tried to investigate the missing leaders and what had happened. No trace of any of them was ever found.
At last Adam, an older Canadian scout, had taken charge and formed them into some semblance of order, setting up clean up and salvage crews, and sending others to go fishing or search the forests. The tents were dried out, clothing was washed and dried, food was salvaged and prepared and the scouts did what scouts felt they ought to do – they made use of what they had to survive and to go on and await rescue.
Over the ensuing weeks life had settled into a kind of order. No one could forget that things were not right. Everyone harboured fears and theories and wild ideas about the destruction of the world, or the secret rapture, or alien abduction, or moving islands that could not be found. Yet somehow everyone felt that if they just did what they had been taught to do, and used their scouting skills, someone would come and find them eventually. Many of the children slept badly now, suffering tormented dreams, and daytimes often saw short tempers and tears, as well as growing hunger as the supplies ran short, and fishing and fruit picking did not make up for the shortfall.
All the same, as they got used to the situation there was also laughter and games and even den building and exploration. This was no Lord of the Flies nightmare – the boys were more or less united despite their cultural and language differences, and many firm friendships were forged.
But now 3; now there was a man in the camp. An actual grown up man who had not been here all along.
George and Toby walked into the camp slowly, hopeful that this stranger may yet provide some clue as to what had happened and why they had been cut off from the world these last months.
***
"Jethro. My name is Jethro! Jethro Raymond."
That was how he had introduced himself, so Adam explained later. He had come wandering in to the camp from the forest – the exact same path that the leaders had taken the night they had vanished. He looked dazed and confused, and his hair was matted with dried blood on the right hand side above his ear.
But despite the apparent injury he was not particularly dishevelled. He wore a scout leader uniform in the British style, which was still clean and undamaged, unlike many of the uniforms the stranded campers were wearing. He appeared well fed and if someone suggested he had just stepped off the boat, there would be no reason to disagree.
"But where did you come from?" Toby asked, not for the first time. Jethro shrugged and shook his head.
"If I could tell you, laddie, I would," he said, his accent not quite Scottish, but suggesting some northern part of England. "Fact is I remember nothing of how I got here. I woke up lying by a stream in the forest, like I told your friends. I don't know how I got there. The last thing I remember, I was leading a scout meeting back home, and we were all about to have a wide game," He shrugged and looked at the boys with a frown "And you tell me you have been without a scout leader this last two months? And you have got along all alone?"
George nodded solemnly, but Toby was curious.
"We thought maybe some disaster happened 3; we thought maybe there had been a war or 3; " He tailed off, suddenly feeling like all the wild theories sounded pretty lame.
"Nay lad, there has been no war. At least not one I noticed. All is as it should be. But I cannot fathom how a whole scout camp went missing and no one seems to have missed you. That makes no sense to me." Jethro looked around at the assembled boys, and seeing scared faces, and a few quivering lips, he went on quickly, "But never you worry, now I am here I am sure I can help out. Looks to me you have done a fine job with your survival training, all we must do is figure out how to let someone know we are here. And look, if I got here then there must be a way on and off the island, right?"
George smiled, and some of the nagging fears that he had been harbouring seemed to melt away. Here was an actual scout leader – a grown up. Here was someone who knew what to do. And he was right. If he got on the island there must be a way to do that – maybe a boat they had not discovered – maybe something else.
As night fell George climbed into the tent he shared with Toby and the two boys took off their uniforms and climbed into sleeping bags, and for the first time in two months, Toby was not kept awake by George's thrashing and moaning, and they both slept soundly.
Chapter 2
Crime and Punishment
"What have you got there Georgy Porgy?"
George froze and looked up, his eyes widening as he took in the speaker. Of all the boys at the camp, Karl Jones was not the one he wanted to find him playing with the flare gun. The two boys had not got on almost from the start of camp. Karl was a cub denner back home, which was equivalent to the sixer George had been back in Britain. Different names but the same rank. From day one Karl had attempted to take charge though, and had almost seemed to delight in telling everyone how George was only a sixer because he came from such a small area that they couldn't find anyone else. George deeply regretted the conversation he had had on the boat about how few people lived in his village back home.
The boy quickly stuffed the flare gun up his cub jersey. He had taken it earlier that day to show off to Toby. That suddenly seemed like a very foolish idea. Then again, he had been having a lot of foolish ideas about Toby recently. The two had quickly become the best of friends, but there was something more too. For some reason he did not quite understand, when George looked at Toby, he found himself imagining the boy with his clothes off. They had played truth or dare a couple of times, and he had managed to dare Toby to strip to his underwear. Toby had done it too, but he had not had the nerve to make his friend takes those off too, and sadly on his turn, he had just been dared to kiss ie of the girls. Jaz had liked that one, but he had not.
They were lost on this island, and he missed his family and wanted to go home, but somehow when he was with Toby, it did not seem quite so urgent. Going home would mean being separated, and although they could Skype each other, that would not be the same. George was not looking forward to leaving Toby, but again he did not quite understand why.
He squared up to the approaching boy now, and answered the question.
"Nothing you would care about Jones," he retorted. "So piss off will you."
Karl squared himself up to his full metre and a half [5 ft.] in size, making the best use of the few centimetres advantage he had. He approached George and held out his hand, and in his best authoritarian voice demanded: "Hand it over dork. I already saw it."
George turned and made a run for it. He crashed his way across the brook, barely more than a trickle of water, but overgrown with reeds and roots. He scrambled up the far bank, pulling at tree roots as his feet slipped against the muddy surface.
He could hear Karl in pursuit and lunged for a root higher up. He caught it but at the same moment, Karl grabbed his ankle and pulled hard. There was a loud crack, the root came free, and George was tumbling down the bank into the muddy water. He tried to kick out at the other boy but Karl was a little bigger and had the advantage of still being on his feet. Karl pulled the gun free triumphantly and nonchalantly kicked George in the groin.
"Mr Raymond!" He shouted as George clutched his privates and groaned. "Mr Raymond, come and see what George had!"
***
"I can't believe how irresponsible you have been." Jethro paced in front of the fire, the flare gun on a tree stump now, and George in front of him, his head hanging and his cheeks fiery red as the scout leader raged in front of him, with all the other boys watching. On and on he went about the importance of the safety equipment, and how it might be needed if ever they spotted a ship or plane, and how dangerous it was too. Karl was watching with undisguised glee.
"And its not even just you being negligent! What is it with Raven tent? It seems like every one of you in there is doing their level best to make this camp a worse place! I already spoke to three of you this morning about germs and hygiene, and as for you Toby," he turned to Toby who was watching miserably too, and now also went bright red under the leader's glare, "You were asked to fetch water three times today. Three times, and each time I find you off messing around with your goofy friends. You should have been fetching water and instead you are encouraging this miserable child," he indicated with a finger at George, and his voice rose to a shout. "To steal vital safety equipment that could one day save your miserable little lives!"
Both boys stood with heads down, feeling miserable, but neither was quite ready for what came next.
"Drop your shorts boys. Toby first: Bend over my knee." And with that Jethro sat down on a camp stool and waited. Both boys' mouths dropped open and then they looked at each other, as though seeing if the other would go first. A spanking? in public? Was that even allowed these days?
But his was not home. This was the camp that had spent weeks cut off from the world, and even though the last few days had become more ordered and focussed under Jethro's guidance, they still were no closer to finding out what had happened, how Jethro had got here or how any of them could leave.
Being the only adult, Jethro had taken charge of course. He had started gently, praising the work of the older scouts, and encouraging everyone for their efforts. It had taken no more than two days for people to accept him as though he had always been the camp leader. He had imposed a new order to the way things were done, and arguments over whose turn it was to do each job had quickly vanished, even if the rivalries remained.
They had all been so relieved to have him here. He seemed friendly, and knew what to do. Adam, who had been the de-facto leader since the disaster, was more than happy to have the responsibility for everyone's welfare lifted. For everyone else, an actual adult leader was someone with experience – someone to rely on. Someone to trust.
But now he was crossing new ground. Asking the boys to accept a spanking. Maybe in days gone by, scout leaders had been allowed to spank naughty scouts, but these days it would lead to charges of assault; and yet both boys knew it would be well deserved.
George watched as Toby unbuttoned his shorts and let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them, not meeting anyone's gaze but went over to where Jethro was sat and obediently bent over his knee. Jethro placed an arm to support the boy's body.
"Good boy Toby. I won't go any easier on you for being the first to obey, but I will remember your bravery." And with that he started to spank the boy hard on his underpants. George and several of the other boys flinched with Toby. The few girls seemed lost between astonishment and horror at what was happening, and perhaps a little amusement at seeing Toby's underpants.
The scout leader's hand landed loudly, the loud smacking sound echoing around the camp, punctuated by Toby's gasps of pain as his bottom turned red under his underpants. Four large slaps rang around the camp, and then Jethro lowered the underpants too, revealing smarting flesh.
"That was four for each time you did not fetch water, master Miles. But for encouraging George to play with the flare gun, we will have four more on bare flesh I think."
Toby groaned and as the hand landed with a loud thwack on his bare flesh his groan turned into a cut off gasp of pain. Three more blows landed, before the embarrassed boy was allowed to pull his underpants back up and retrieve his shorts. He rubbed his sore bum as Jethro beckoned George over.
"Now George, drop your shorts or I will use a cane on you!"
George cringed, and slowly unbuttoned his own shorts, looking at the floor, wishing that the scouts were not watching. Bad enough having the boys see this, but the girls were here too. He dropped his shorts, revealing his red bikini briefs and so wished he had been given boxer shorts by his mum, like all the cool boys.
"You had best lose the underpants too, boy. I don't want any doubt in anyone's mind that your offence was by far the most serious we have seen on this camp. I want all of you here to know that we will not tolerate dangerous and stupid actions by irresponsible boys. You should be ashamed of yourself – and a cub sixer too." Jethro paused, no doubt looking at George, but the boy kept his eyes down, and if it was possible, his ears were a deeper purple/scarlet than before. He could feel them burning, and could hear the blood rushing in his ears, the fast beat of his heart as he felt nervous and ashamed.
He stepped out of his underpants, and covered himself up with his hands as the assembled children sniggered. Karl was giggling openly, and George could hear him whispering to his friend, Jez. He could not hear what was being said, but it did not take much imagination to guess at the tone.
George stepped forward and lowered himself over Jethro's knee, trying to hide himself as best as possible. He felt the steadying hand of the scout leader and then, without any further words or warning there was a loud swish slap as a hand landed on his bare bum, harder than he thought possible, and at once hot stinging pain erupted. He let out a loud gasp and cry, aware at once that Toby had not made so much noise, but unable to call it back. He heard Karl's giggles echoed by some of the others, although also a small collective cry of surprise from Jaz, one of the girl scouts.
A second slap landed before he could take a breath, and then a third and a fourth, and tears sprang unbidden from George's eyes. The spanking seemed to go on for a long time. Eight spanks with no sign he was done, and the boy sobbed. Ten spanks, twelve and then he lost count as all he could focus on was the pain in his bum as he was publicly scolded. Whether it was 16 or 20, he did not know, but when at last Jethro indicated he could pull on his clothes again, George was a blubbering wreck. He could hardly see his shorts through his tears, which ran freely down his cheeks.
"What a cry baby," Karl scoffed, to the agreement of several others. Right now George did not feel in any position to disagree.
"Bed! Both of you," Jethro ordered, and Toby put an arm around George's shoulder and led him to the tent they shared. It was still very early, but the boys were not allowed out again that day, and when the others who shared the tent joined them later, George pretended he was asleep as around him there was a whispered conversation about their public spanking.
Chapter 3
The Day Everything Changed
George opened his eyes as a shaft of sunlight crept past a gap in the tent zip and fell across his face. He grunted and turned on his side, his movement stirring Toby who was lying next to him – his head on George's pillow. Toby muttered something incoherent and George gave him a push to get him to move back to his own pillow.
The boys fell silent for a moment, but the sunlight was still there, and after a while George opened his eyes and admitted to himself that he was awake after all.
"Morning!" He grunted.
Toby muttered something else, still incoherent, but it was plausibly a swear word. George gave him a kick, although the force of it was muted from being in his sleeping bag still. Now Toby definitely swore.
"I felt like I was dreaming all night."
Toby opened his eyes as George said this and nodded.
"Yeah, me too!"
George rubbed his neck. It was sore. He must have been sleeping on something hard, so he looked around and patted his pillow. There must be a rock poking through from the ground below, although he couldn't find one. The soreness was in the exact spot he had dreamed Jethro had been injecting him with what looked more like a dentist's drill than a needle. It was funny how you could incorporate pain and other feelings in your dreams like that. Like the time he had dreamed he was peeing so hard he put a bush fire out single handed, just before he woke up desperate for the loo.
George gave up looking for the rock, and turned to see Toby rubbing his neck too – in the exact same spot.
"What is it?" Toby demanded as he noticed George staring at him. "What's up?"
"Toby 3; what 3; I mean, who did you dream about last night?"
Toby looked at George, his brow furrowing, a slightly baffled look on his face.
"Well 3; who do you think? After what happened yesterday, and you with that stupid gun 3; I dreamed about Jethro of course."
"You dreamed of us getting spanked?"
Toby shook his head. "No, actually I dreamed of something else. But Jethro was definitely in it. I don't know – it was some weird alien abduction dream and I dreamed that I was being attacked by Jethro and a dentist's drill 3; hey 3; what? What is it?"
George's mouth had dropped open and he was looking white now. The boy climbed out of his sleeping bag and knelt beside Toby. He peered closedly at the other boy's kneck. Then he touched it. "He attacked you 3;just here?"
Toby reached up to touch the spot. "How did you know?"
"There is a mark there 3; it's like a tiny white scar."
***
"Hurry up. He is coming!"
George quickly threw the contents of Karl's rucksack back into place and fastened the ties before scrambling out of the back of the tent and sliding down the hill that led to the beach, Toby and a shower of shingle accompanying his descent.
They dropped the last metre and a half into warm sand and lay there panting with exhilaration, and staring back up the hill side to see if they had been noticed. No curious heads poked over the edge and the boys decided they were safe.
"Did you get it?" Toby asked.
George stuck his hand in the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small cloth covered book, and Toby grinned. Karl's diary – the little book he could be seen writing in every night. The contents had been the subject of much speculation, and after recent events the boys had decided that the time was right to find out what he had been saying about them, and to see if there was anything they could use against him
George propped his back against a rock, dug his toes into the sand and opened the diary. Toby came and sat down next to him, the boy's propping each other up and heads together as they read the first entry together.
"What the heck is that?" George squinted at the page which was covered in writing, but none of it made any sense. "Is that German or something?"
Toby peered at the lettering, but much of it was unpronounceable. "I don't think its any language at all. It's some kind of code. Who is so anal that they write their diary in code?"
George giggled. "Karl is."
"Well this is pretty much useless then." Toby reached past George's hand and turned the page, only to find that the next page was filled with the same stream of lettering as the first, as was the next and the next.
"How are you at code cracking?" George asked as the flipped through the pages, finding nothing useful. Toby just shrugged. "I read a book on code breaking 3; if you count letter frequencies you can start to work out what some letters are 3; as long as it's a cipher code anyhow."
Toby squinted at the text, hoping that somehow a pattern would leap out at him, but nothing came to mind. George flipped to the next page and stopped.
"Hey look at that."
On the page he had just turned to there was a drawing. It was some kind of diagram, although of what neither boy could tell. The markings on the diagram were all encrypted, like everything else, although there were numbers on the markings. Eight items, numbered one to eight.
The diagram itself was of something roughly circular, but with lines emitting from it. The lines came off at right angles to each other and were numbered one to four. Elsewhere within the circle there were smaller motifs – spirals and cross hatched patterns, four of them in all and these had the other numbers.
George sighed and flipped to the next page. There was only one word on that page, and it had been underlined. One word that had not been encrypted. All it read was GEORGE.
***
The boys were walking along the beach to the path that would lead them to the front of the camp some twenty minutes later when they met Karl, Chris and Jez coming in the other direction. The other boys were coming toward them, chatting and seemingly so intent on some joke they were sharing that they had not even noticed the two boys coming up. George pushed the diary deeper in his pocket now and walked on, heart beating faster, trying not to look guilty, and hoping that he was more successful at that than Toby.
The boys stepped to one side to let the others come past, but as Karl slipped past, Jez hung back and Chris grabbed George. Toby immediately leaped at Chris, but Karl was too quick, grabbing him and forcing his arm up behind him painfully.
"Give it back, Georgey Porgey." Karl snarled and, before George could so much as deny he knew what they were talking about, Jez had reached into his pocket and pulled the diary free.
"Bad mistake! Very bad mistake." Karl hissed and Jez kicked George in the balls. "You little thief. You stupid little thief. You really really should not have taken that."
Toby swore, tried to struggle free, and managed to stamp on Karl's foot. Karl yelped and let his captive go with a push that sent him staggering into a gorse thicket. George was sprawled on the ground now, clutching his balls and whimpering in pain.
"Don't touch what is not yours Georgey Porgey." And he kicked the boy in the back before turning and running back up the path, Chris and Jez following, laughing.
***
"You know," Shane said, as he sat himself beside Toby on a log near the camp fire, a metal plate of food in his hands. "If we keep having fried fish for supper much longer, I am going to grow gills and walk around like this." And with that he made his eyes bulge wide and started to open and close his mouth, fish fashion. Toby snorted and had to cover his mouth as his food nearly sprayed out.
"Doing an impression of Karl?" George was sat cross legged on the ground, facing the log on which the other two were now perched, finishing off his own meal of fried fish and baked potato.
Toby smiled and gave a small laugh. He was less than happy with the menu, not being a big fan of fish. The problem was that since the camp had become cut off, the food supplies they had brought with them had dwindled. Foraging in the forest had yielded a surprising number of apples – apple trees appeared to have been planted near to the ruins of some ancient building, no doubt as an orchard. But the apples were not quite ready and had to be cooked with sugar to taste good.
Other than that, foraging had mostly yielded berries that tasted just about okay but gave them stomach cramps, and an assortment of leaves and shoots that were best avoided.
There were rabbits, and on several occasions some of the boys had succeeded in hitting the rabbits hard enough with stones from homemade slings that they had caught them and cooked them. Luckily Gary had known how to skin a rabbit, which turned out to be a lot like pulling a hand out of a very stubborn glove.
But for the most part fishing had provided the major dietary supplement. They had fishing gear and several of the scouts knew well enough what they were doing to take kayaks out as far as the reef and fish from those. There always seemed to be enough fish.
"What's for pudding?" George asked. "Let me guess – stewed apple and custard."
Jethro looked up from the other side of the fire, where he had been chatting with some of the other scouts, and narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.
"Not today George. Today all we have to offer is apples. Maybe we should discuss why that is so."
George looked up, his mouth going a little dry as he recognised a warning tone in the leader's voice. Something was wrong here, and he knew better than to ask what. He put on what he hoped was a suitably inquisitive and puzzled expression.
"The thing is, we are rather short on sugar, custard powder and dried milk powder. In fact we are nearly out of all three. Should we perhaps explore why that is so?"
"Um 3; because we ate a lot of apples and custard?" Shane ventured. George tried to shoot him what was intended to be a warning glance, but Shane just looked at him in confusion. Well Shane had not been there at the time, so he did not know what they had been doing. Toby, on the other hand, was looking decidedly uncomfortable, and was now staring fixedly into the fire.
"Well it is true we have eaten a good deal of that, yes. But even had you eaten stewed apples every day since you got here, and likewise for the custard, by my reckoning, from the camp manifest, we should still have supplies for several more weeks. Instead the supply is all but exhausted.
"Now again, would anyone like to venture an explanation as to why this should be so?"
Karl had his hand up, and he was sniggering. George's heart sank. What did Karl know? He hadn't been there, and Toby's eyes were narrowing, even though he was still staring into the fire.
"Let me venture a guess," Jethro said, ignoring Karl's hand that he was waving around now like a kid busting for the toilet and needing to be excused from the room. Jethro looked directly and Toby now. "I have heard it said that throwing food powders onto an open flame can make a most interesting and quite colourful explosion. Is that correct Toby?"
Toby knew when the game was up, and colouring a little around the ears he nodded.
"And I hear that you and George were quite the young pyromaniacs before I got here. So much so that I understand that the two of you between you probably accounted for the loss of half the powdered food stock."
Toby swallowed, and George coloured a deep red too.
Jethro nodded and gave a long suffering sigh.
"You boys seem totally mindless of the gravity of your situation. In case you had forgotten," Jethro stressed that last word, speaking it slowly, eyes locked on the cringing boys. "There has not been a supply ship on this island for nearly two months, and there is no reason to think one will arrive tomorrow.
"Unless you want to starve to death," Again he spoke the last word loudly, emphasising it, and watching the reaction as the boys shuddered. "You will appreciate that we very much need to work together, as a team, to get off this island and back to safety, before we all starve.
"Now I know you all did well before I arrived, and in the last days the majority of you have pulled together, and we have dealt with a few issues of food supply, sanitation, shelter and the like that had arisen. I have been impressed with the way you scouts worked together before I got here, and doubly impressed with what you have done since."
Many of the scouts around the fire were visibly smiling at the praise, but two boys were not. George was turning red and biting his finger nails, and Toby was playing with the woggle of his scout scarf nervously.
"George, you came here as a sixer. However, I have seen no leadership skills from you whatsoever. You have been reckless, stupid, and a dishonest thief. I am demoting you here and now. You are not to be treated as having any rank until such a time as you pull your socks up." Jethro looked at George's bare feet and shrugged. "And it seems to me that it is most unlikely that you will."
Karl laughed at that and George shot him a glare. But Jethro was not finished speaking.
"Toby, you too should be ashamed of yourself. I have decided that the two of you will now be under Karl's leadership, and you will move into his tent from tomorrow night – it's too late to be swapping around today. When you have convinced me you can behave, I will review that decision, but not before."
Toby scowled. Karl was a den leader of cubs, whereas he had turned 11 and recently graduated into the scouts. George felt for his friend – that was so unfair. They may all be within a few months of age, but the uniform was meant to count for something – but here they both were, being put in the charge of the one boy who clearly hated them most. Toby was ten times the leader Karl would ever be, but Toby had to suffer under his supervision? What kind fo crap was this?
"Tomorrow," Jethro went on, "we will do a search of the southern part of the island. It is time we learned more about possible ways off the island 3; before these boys waste the remainder of the food supply on stupid games."
***
That night George and Toby stripped to their underwear, and Toby climbed into his sleeping bag. George looked at his own sleeping bag miserably, but he did not climb into that. Instead, quietly and without a word, he squeezed his legs down beside Toby.
Toby looked momentarily surprised before, with a small giggle, he shuffled around to make room and George slid all the way in, and wrapped his arms around his friend.
Toby let out a gasp of pleasure but George just put a finger on his lips.
"Shh!" He whispered, as he put his hand down the other boy's underpants.
The day had been a miserable one, but the next hour of exploration and discovery was one the two boy's would never forget.
When at last it ended in an explosion of pleasure, Toby nearly gave them both away with a loud grunt and a snorting gasp of breath. George nearly giggled, but stifled it by biting on the sleeping bag. A giggle might give them away, although they knew that that they could blame bad dreams for the other noises anyone heard.
Chapter 4
Strangeness in the Night
"Are you awake?"
By way of answer, Toby leaned over and nibbled George's ear. For two months George had dreamed of Toby being as close as this. He had dreamed of touching bodies, having his ear nibbled, being kissed, and being touched down there. The reality of the situation, however, was beyond his imagining, and even though he had felt relaxed and even a little sleepy after they were done, he had not gone to sleep. His mind was in too much of a turmoil for that.
What would people say if they knew? Did this mean they were gay? Would people keep them apart if they got home 3; when they got home? What would Karl do if he found out? And most of all – when could they do this again?
Because one thing was sure – George would do this every day several times if he could. The hour of play fighting and exploration was the most wonderful thing he ever had experienced, bar none. Neither boy really knew what they were doing, but instinct alone had led to the touching and stroking of naked flesh that had culminated in an explosion of pleasure, as they had pressed their bodies together.
It was so unfair they were being moved, but that didn't mean they could never find time to be together again.
"I see the moon." Toby whispered, looking through the tent flap at the shaft of blue white light that was poking through. He sat there quietly a while longer before saying "Do you suppose our parents are looking at the moon right now."
George felt a stab of homesickness. Funny how he almost never thought of home now, but on this night, when he had just discovered something so wonderful that he had almost thought for a few minutes that he would not mind if he never went home, he now found himself thinking of his parents, his sister and the cosy bunk bed he shared with his brother. He thought about next door's dog, and school classes, and football practice. He thought of arguments and laughter and Sunday lunches. He looked at the moon, and the image blurred until he blinked several times and rubbed his eyes.
The two boys watched the moon in silence now.
Which is why they heard the unzipping of a tent flap. The sound was very distinctive, but muffled, like someone was trying to do it quietly enough that it could not be heard. The boy's should have been long ago asleep, and had they been, they would never have heard it.
Toby slowly levered himself out of the shared sleeping bag and placed his cheek flat to the ground, looking under their own tent flaps.
"It's Jethro," he whispered. "He is all dressed and 3; and he is heading for the forest."
George scrambled to poke his head out too. Sure enough, Jethro was walking to the forest. He was carrying a torch with him, but it was not switched on. The moonlight lit the path to the forest and he was following the trail, walking slowly and carefully, as though trying to make as little noise as possible.
"Perhaps he needs a pee," George suggested. Toby shook his head.
"Why go to the forest for a pee when he got us to dig a latrine pit further down the hill? It's completely the wrong direction."
George frowned. Toby was right. And why not use the torch? Why be so secretive? Sure he did not want to wake anyone up in the night, but there was being quiet and there was being secretive, and what Jethro was doing right now was most definitely secretive.
And there he was heading back to the same forest he had appeared from days earlier. The same forest where the other leaders vanished. Too many unexplained mysteries.
George pulled on his shorts and cub scout jersey.
"What are you doing?" Toby hissed.
"Following him. Coming?"
And with that he dived under the tent flap. Small enough that he did not need to unzip it, he scrambled to his feet on the other side.
"Wait up!" Toby's urgent whisper came from the tent and seconds later, the boy appeared, shorts on, shirt in hand. He pulled the shirt on quickly and the two of them started to pick their way along the forest path where Jethro had vanished.
Jethro was already at the forest edge as the boys set off after him, and they had to move fast to keep up. The path to the forest was made of loose earth and sand, and gave freely under their feet, which made fast movement almost as hard as running on the beach, and by the time they too entered the forest they had lost sight of their quarry.
Toby pulled up and waited for George to catch up. He held his hips, crouched forward to catch his breath but he held his head forward, searching for signs of Jethro. George looked too, panting a little, but trying to hide the sound.
"Where did he go?" George's whisper seemed too loud in the late night. There were plenty of night sounds – scurrying animals, the hooting of an owl, night insects, the movement of the air stirring the leaves of the trees as a warm wind flowed up from the sea. Still Toby shot him a warning glance which he saw well enough in the moonlight.
There was a crack of a twig up ahead, and a rustle of leaves. Toby put a finger to his lips, pointed in the direction of the noise and beckoned George onwards. They set off slowly now, picking their way carefully, mindful of tree roots and brambles and other hazards on the path, as well as the need to be as near silent as they could manage.
As they approached where they had heard the noise there was a sudden flash of light, like someone opening the curtains in a darkened room on a sunny day. For half a second, George saw Toby, dressed in the turquoise green of his scout shirt, rather than the dark monotone that he had been able to see in the moonlight.
As quickly as it appeared, the light was gone and the boys were left blinking in the inky darkness, that now seemed darker than ever as the light had robbed them of their night vision.
"What was that?" George whispered urgently, forgetting the need for absolute silence. Toby's shrug was lost on him though because of the lost night vision.
Toby edged onwards, approaching the point where it appeared the light had come from. He stopped in a small glade. Looking up he could see stars and the moon drifting towards the western horizon. The dark shape of trees ringed the clearing, and black clumps of grass grew in tufts in the dark grey sandy soil.
He walked to the centre of the clearing and George followed.
Dimly in the moonlight Toby thought he could make out footprints in the dust. They could be footprints, or they could be just indentations – they were not really foot shaped, but they seemed to march to the centre of the clearing. Except they could not be footprints because in the centre of the clearing they just stopped.
It was not that the dust was any firmer, or replaced with rock. The ground seemed to be the same ahead as behind, but the double row of indentations seemed to just stop.
Toby looked behind now, and sure enough there was another row of imprints where he walked and George was making a third too.
Toby knelt down to inspect the prints where they stopped. They were definite impressions in the loose soil, just like you would find on a dry sand beach. Ahead there was nothing.
Except – there was something. What was that?
Glinting slightly in the moonlight, Toby leaned forward and touched what he saw. It was cold to the touch, and sitting loosely in the soil. He picked it up.
George saw he had something and came closer to look.
What the boy was now holding was the size and shape, and indeed the weight of a credit card. All the same, even in the moonlight, they could see it was not that. For a start it was made from a dark metal, rather than plastic. But what was most odd about it was that where Toby was holding it, around the boy's thumb and forefinger, it seemed to be emitting a tiny purple-blue glow. As he swiped his finger over it, he left a blue trail that faded to purple, then red before vanishing. The glow was very faint but unmistakably there.
Toby passed the card to George who also ran his fingers over it to get the same effect.
"What the hell is it?"
Toby just shook his head and shivered.
Chapter 5
An Unlikely Aliance
"Wake up you lazy git, you are on cess pit duty."
George opened his eyes with a groan. The sun was shining, but the air was cold. He could tell it was early, but there was Karl standing over him, holding out a pair of rubber gloves and grinning his nastiest grin.
He had been dreaming weird dreams again, and as he climbed out of his sleeping bag to get dressed, he felt a fleeting sense of loss as he realised that whatever had been happening in his dream moments before was vanishing from his memory. Somehow it had seemed important to remember it, but now it was gone.
George closed his eyes to remember.
"No going back to sleep, dork," Karl's voice chased the dream further away and George scowled. It may be unreasonable, but it felt like Karl had done that deliberately. And there was no doubt that he was enjoying handing out the worst chore on camp.
George reached for his shorts.
"Wait! Don't you ever change your underpants?"
George blushed.
"It is not like I had an endless supply of them you know."
Toby opened his eyes, and passed some underpants to George.
"Have some of mine," he whispered, and George looked at what he had been given. His face lit up as he slipped out of his old pair and put these on. Karl just snorted and shook his head as George got ready and then slipped out of the tent to do battle with the latrines.
***
"You know he is lying to us," George spoke as he poured a bucket of fouled water into the cess pit, wrinkling his nose at the stench that rose up, and desperately trying to avoid getting splashed by anything unsavoury. Karl stood well back, watching smugly as his new charge slaved away for him.
"Who?" Karl did not sound interested.
"Jethro. He is not who he says he is."
"And you know this because 3;?"
George immediately regretted starting the conversation. There were boys he would happily tell about the night time adventure with Toby, but Karl was not one of those. Experience had already shown that it was best not to let him have any information that would get them into trouble. Instinctively his hand went to his pocket, where the card was tucked away, but then he took it away. Karl's eyes were following the movement.
George licked his lips and went for a more general line.
"Well it stands to reason. He must know more about how he got here. He couldn't have just turned up and lost all his memory for no reason. I mean, we all remember coming on the boat, don't we?"
Karl laughed. "Don't I know it. You vomited so much that the sea was starting to look like carrot soup."
George frowned. The journey had not been a good one for him, but he was pretty sure that Karl had been vomitting too. There had been quite a swell that day, and more of the campers had been clustered at the side of the small boat than those who remained seated inside the cabin.
"I am just saying, his story doesn't make sense. People don't just arrive out of nowhere. Come on!"
Karl shrugged. "Well he obviously did arrive out of nowhere, or else he would not be here, and it is not his fault he doesn't remember how. Maybe he had a plane crash."
"No way. If that had happened we would have heard it – and where is the plane wreck?"
"In the sea?" Ventured Karl, but George just shook his head.
"Not in the sea, or he would have been soaking wet when he arrived."
"So he jumped out of a plane and parachuted down and bumped his head," Karl suggested, sounding exasperated now.
"Nope. Because where is his parachute?"
"Have you looked for a parachute?" Karl's voice was quiet and George recognised a dangerous undertone.
Once again he felt a sense of caution. If he said he had been out looking for lost parachutes, would Karl use that information against him? Would he accuse him of shirking some duties? Would he tell Jethro and get him in trouble?
He put his bucket down and walked closer to the other boy. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he thought:
"Let's go look for it together. If we cannot find out how he got here, then you have to admit that something doesn't add up. And if we find a parachute – well at least then we will know."
Karl looked back at George, sizing him up, considering. He shrugged. "Have you finished?" He asked, pointing towards the latrines.
George nodded, and Karl stood up and led the way back to the camp. "Good," he said, "because I am starving and you are going to make me breakfast."
***
Toby and George were collecting drift wood on the beach when Karl came up to them later that morning.
"Okay, you convinced me. This afternoon Jethro said we would be going exploring along the shore for boats. But what you said made sense."
Toby shot George a glare, and George blushed a little. "What have you been saying to him?"
"Nothing 3; I mean 3; just, you know 3; about how Jethro's story doesn't add up."
The two boys had discussed that often enough, but what really did not add up was the strange card that was sitting in George's pocket. If George had mentioned that, then he was going to get a serious pounding. Karl watched the exchange with a wry smile.
"George thinks Jethro couldn't have arrived by boat or plane, and unless there is a parachute or something, it makes no sense how he got on the island, and into the middle of the forest. He said you agreed it was strange," Karl shrugged. "The fact is, it really is pretty strange. You convinced me. If we want to find out what is going on, maybe we need to work together."
Both boys eyed Karl suspiciously. Working together did not seem to be his style, but he seemed to be genuine as he went on:
"When we are searching the shore, we will be split up by tents. As I am your denner," George winced at the word – it was unfamiliar, as back home the groups of cub scouts were called sixes, and not dens, but mostly it grated because even this strangely more friendly Karl should not be his denner – not in a million years. He should be in charge.
He did not interrupt, although Karl noticed the look and paused for a moment before continuing. "As your denner, I will be in charge of you two. We will send Jez off with Chris and Billy. You and me will head off up into the forest and look around for clues in the place Jethro actually turned up."
The plan was good, except that neither boy really wanted Karl coming along. On the other hand, Karl would be on his own, with none of his bigger friends to protect him. He would actually be helping them do something they wanted to do, and if he was going to be friendly to them, then things were maybe looking up. George nodded first, and, a little reluctantly, Toby agreed too.
"That's a plan then. Come on, lunch is ready."
Karl ran off to the camp for lunch, but George hung back with Toby.
"So what do you think?" George asked. "Do we trust him?"
Toby looked in the direction Karl had just gone and shrugged, but then he grabbed George around the waist and started tickling.
"Hey!" George giggled, "quit that!"
"Never. You have to be punished for telling the enemy our secret plans."
George fell to the floor squirming and Toby straddled him. As he had the cub hopelessly writhing in a fit of giggles, he clamped his legs tight, held the boy's side and looked into his eyes. George looked up at the slightly older boy, seeing strands of brown hair hanging down from his forehead. He stopped struggling but was still smiling. "You got me. Now let me go, I am hungry."
"Me too," Toby said and made as if to bite George's neck. The boy squealed as the mouth brushed his neck, tickling him with warm breath, but no teeth. Toby play bit, but having the boy's mouth to his neck made George feel helpless, like he was Toby's prisoner, to do with as he liked, and he was not sure why his shorts felt so tight at that moment – but that just made him more aware of Toby's underwear he was wearing. All in all it was a good feeling, that gave him butterflies in his stomach.
Toby moved his mouth away from the neck, and almost nose to nose, gazed into George's deep blue eyes.
And then slowly – ever so slowly, he lowered his head, and their lips touched, and it was as if fireworks were set off in their head.
***
The boys turned up very late for lunch and had to settle for the burned bits everyone else had left. They did not seem to mind though, and spent a lot of the time looking at each other without speaking, but randomly descending into fits of giggles that had the others looking at them curiously, no doubt wondering why there was so much sand in their hair and clothes.
Chapter 6
Cave
George swore as a bramble caught his leg. Small red droplets of blood immediately glistened where the plant barbs caught his skin and he wet his fingers on his tongue and then pressed them to the injury. Toby stopped and watched sympathetically but neither boy could wait long as Karl strode on ahead, setting a cracking pace that had kept them almost running to keep up.
"What's his hurry?" George complained and Toby just shrugged. Despite the complaint, they were glad that Karl did actually seem to be taking the hunt seriously, and they had left the path several times to check out depressions in the landscape, or heavy ground cover and other such points of interest. The problem with leaving the path, though, was the brambles and snare like roots. George also wondered whether there were snakes or other dangerous animals around. He had not seen any, but as he never wore socks, he felt his bare legs were overly vulnerable.
Karl still had his uniform socks. A blue uniform for his country, the socks looked thick and clearly offered a good deal of protection. Toby also had dug out socks for this trip, but George had long since lost track of his, and as he never washed them anyway, he doubted the sanity of putting the smelly fabric close to sensitive skin.
So it was that he had to pick his way gingerly behind the others, dodging hazards and occasionally yelping and swearing, all sounds that Karl appeared to enjoy immensely.
But now Karl was looking at something on the ground. He was squatting down and picking at the vegetation.
"Come look at this!" He called, and Toby ran over, followed more slowly by George.
"What is it?" Toby asked, peering at the spot that Karl found interesting. He did not need wait for a reply, because all at once he saw what Karl had spotted. There was some kind of black netting stretched over a wooden peg, just visible beneath a prickly looking bush. As he watched, Karl traced his fingers over it, gave it a tug and the leaf litter over the next ten metres [30 feet] shook.
"It's covering something," Karl said. "maybe the parachute."
George watched, eyes wide and his heart beating faster with the sudden excitement and expectation of what they might find. He hoped it was not a parachute. They had not told Karl about their night time escapade, following Jethro. After that, George had wondered, and even suggested to Toby, that maybe Jethro was an alien and he had somehow beamed up to his UFO. Toby had proven more sceptical, but did not shoot the idea down entirely. A parachute would just be too mundane. Too ordinary. And indeed not very helpful.
If Jethro had abandoned a plane crash or something like that, then he was as stuck on this island as anyone here. They were back to square one, but for the presence of a leader. And even that was unwelcome to George since the public humiliations of first a spanking, and then being demoted. The idea that Jethro could be something more than he said was something George hoped for. If he could convince even Karl that they needed to work against Jethro, then there was a possibility of a plan that could both get them home and make him out as the hero who stood up against the alien imposter.
Maybe they had found the UFO. Maybe here was Jethro's secret communications equipment. Maybe he was some kind of spy.
Whatever was under the netting, George was excited enough that he was hopping from foot to foot impatiently as Karl, assisted by Toby, followed the netting edge to uncover more pegs.
The boys unhooked the netting from two pegs together, and it snapped backwards, as though it was elastic. There was a hiss of leaves moving and they cascaded down into a dark hole that they had now uncovered.
All three boys moved to the edge of the pit and peered in.
"It is some kind of cave," George spoke in barely a whisper, as though he were afraid of awakening something below.
"I think I can climb down – look there is a root there I could use to hold on to," Karl pointed to a tangle of roots that protruded into the hole, and sure enough there was a root that seemed to fall most of the way into the pit, where they could just see a dark floor below. Karl moved towards it.
"Wait up – it could be dangerous," Toby said, but Karl did not wait up. He grabbed the root and swung himself over the side.
"Too chicken?" He called as he scrambled down, his feet slipping and sliding and bringing a shower of dirt and pebbles clattering to the floor below. George scowled. He had not wanted Karl to go first, but there was no way he was not going down there, so he ran over to the place Karl had made his descent, grabbed the root and swung over the side.
His momentum swung him away from the side for a second, before his feet hit the pit wall, again creating a shower of dirt, but as he lowered himself he realised there was an overhang and the last couple of metres he had to climb down the long dangling root with no purchase against any dirt walls – just hanging in the air.
As his feet touched the floor, and he peered up, he could just make out in the gloom that the overhang ran right under the place they had been standing on the surface. There was a cave that had been right underneath them.
Toby peered over the edge and then with a sigh, began to climb down too.
"This place is huge!" he whispered, as they peered into the darkness. Their eyes slowly got used to the gloom, and with the light from above they saw that they were inside a large cavern – the walls were still shrouded in gloom but it could easily be the size of a football pitch. Karl whistled his appreciation.
"Cool cave! But who would have hidden it? And why?"
The boys carefully made their way around the cave. The floor was covered in roots and rocks and a good deal of leaf litter that had fallen in from above. The ground was hard, mostly rock although sand and dirt made a fine carpet over it. One edge of the cave looked particularly promising. Something seemed to be lighter over there and more regular. As the boys moved towards it they realised there were some kind of boxes, stacked against the cave wall.
George touched one – it was smooth to the touch but not cold like metal – more like plastic. There was something written on it and he peered closely in the half light trying to make out what it said.
"I wish I had thought to bring my torch," George mused, but no one bothered remind him that no one had working torch batteries anymore. They had all run out within the first weeks of being here.
"I think it says 'Module 6'," Toby informed him, and then as he looked more closely "Does that say 'Food'?."
"Quick, help me get one down."
George and Toby lifted a box from the top of the stack. The boxes were about the size of a backpack, although surprisingly heavy. As they looked ready to knock the whole stack over, Karl gave a hand and they manhandled the box to the centre of the cave. There was a clasp on the box, with a raised button. Instinctively they pushed the button and the clasp fell away, allowing them to open the flaps of the box lid.
"Oh wow! No more fried fish!" George exclaimed as he looked down at the contents of the box. It was filled with boxes of foodstuffs – flour, sugar, salt, dried fruit, chocolate bars. As the boys pulled items out they saw another layer below, containing cereals, dried milk, cooking oil, and even custard powder – which made them laugh. Even Karl laughed as George exclaimed "oh joy!"
***
An hour later the boys had manhandled four boxes of food out of the cave. It had not been easy lifting the boxes clear, but Toby had hit on the idea of using the net covering itself – putting the boxes inside the netting, raising the four edges with the help of some lengths of some vine weed they found, and then hoisting the whole thing out with much panting, cursing and a few hairy moments when one or other them almost slipped over the edge. Now, after these efforts, damp from their exertion and exhausted, the boys sat under the shade of a nearby tree, sipping from their water bottles.
George looked at Karl in a new light. An hour of co-operative effort, and a bit of joking around had caused him to reassess his opinion of the boy. He was not quite ready to forget the kicking, the jibes, and all the snide remarks the boy had made – but maybe he was not all bad. Maybe there was a thawing of the previous icy relationship. George swigged some more water, before putting this to the test.
"What is it in your diary, Karl?" He asked.
Immediately Karl's expression darkened. He frowned as he put away his water bottle.
"It is private. Didn't mummy ever tell you not to read other people's diaries?"
Toby sighed, but George waded on, not taking the hints from Karl's body language.
"Yes, but its not like anyone could read yours."
"Because I do not trust people like you." Karl's eyes were narrow now, and his voice low.
"You wrote my name in it though. Why me?"
Karl stood up, and brushed dust from his shorts. He strode to the edge of the cave and looked down, saying nothing more. George watched him curiously, dappled shadows floating over the boy's back as the sun, lower now than it had been as afternoon turned to evening, shone through the leaves of a tree that stirred in the light breeze. George thought it was time they were heading back.
And then Karl jumped.
George was on his feet in a split second. The height was too much. Without climbing down, the boy would surely be injured, and sure enough, before he could reach the edge of the cave, there came a thud and a loud scream of pain. Toby was beside George in an instant and the two of them looked down on the stricken boy below. Karl was lying on the floor clutching his ankle and screaming.
"I'm coming" Toby shouted and made for the root to climb down.
"Get help!" Karl wailed "Oh God! Get help! My ankle! I broke my ankle!"
Toby was already climbing down but he looked up at George who was looking over the side in panic.
"Get Jethro. Quick!"
George needed no second telling and turned and ran through the brush of the forest, desperate to get help, feeling a sick dread in his stomach. No longer aware of the brambles scratching his legs, he leaped over brushwood and crashed through bushes, slipping and sliding his way down a steep bank to a stream, and running through the water, slipping, falling, and getting to his feet and running on, desperate to reach the camp quickly. Desperate for someone to come and help.
When he did come running out of the forest he saw heads lift from boys and girls assembled around the camp fire. Someone, Shane, was pointing and people were getting to their feet. They could see something was wrong as the bruised, dishelved, soaking wet boy sprinted down the path, his legs glistening with blood from a hundred scratches as he charged to a halt and sank to his knees gasping before the adult form of Jethro who climbed quickly from the tent he had been sitting in.
Gasping for breath, George tried to tell them what had happened.
"Karl 3; ankle 3; broken 3; help 3; quick 3;" He started, all but choking on his words as they tumbled from his mouth.
"Calm down. Tell me what happened."
George shook his head and just repeated:
"Come quick. Karl 3;broke his ankle."
"Is this some stupid game?" Jethro frowned and looked down at the boy. George looked back desperately shaking his head and pointing in the direction we had come.
"Please, it's true 3; we need help 3; Toby is with him." He was feeling frantic now. This was like one of those dreams you have when you want desperately to call the emergency services and cannot dial the number, or you get some operator who won't put you through. Why wouldn't Jethro come?
"George, you and Toby have been missing all afternoon. But you have not been with Karl. He has been with the rest of his patrol."
George looked back at Jethro, eyes full of desperation. "Please, you have to come. " He gasped in breath and then ploughed on. "Karl slipped away with us. We went to look in the forest."
"Which was out of bounds!" Jethro's reproving look was lost on the boy. The injury was too serious for that.
"We did, and we found a cave 3; full of food 3; and then Karl fell in and broke his ankle."
Jethro looked at the boy, who was crying now with frustration. Then he looked around the assembled boys. At last he turned to Shane and Matthew. "You two, go down to the beach and get Karl, Chris and Jez up here please."
The two boys ran off and Jethro handed a water bottle to George.
"Now calm down. Everything will be okay. Tell me. Where is Toby?"
So George told him, and then he told him again exactly what they had been doing all afternoon, and as he spoke, Jethro was putting together a pack, and at last he saw the first aid kit going into it. It seemed maddeningly slow, but at least he was taking charge. When Chris came back and corroborated the story that Karl had not been with them all day, then at least they would take things seriously. Then they would help Karl, and maybe if the boy hurt for a little longer, it would make up for the pain of the kicking at least.
But when Jethro looked towards the beach path, his eyes widened and his blood ran cold.
Walking up the path towards him with Matthew and Shane was Chris and Jez.
And Karl.
The boy smiled at George and gave him a wink. There was no sign of any injury to his ankle.
"And so," Jethro turned to George, cocking his head on one side. "The only question left to answer is: where is Toby?"
Chapter 7
Lost Boy
George looked around frantically. The sun had dropped close to the horizon now, and the patch of forest was painted orange in the evening light, but despite this he was still sure this was the spot. This had to be the spot. There was the tree they had sat under. There was the patch of ground where they had laid out the boxes of food. He could make out footprints in the dusty ground, but the boxes had gone.
Worse – the cave entrance had gone. He paced desperately over the ground where he was certain the netting had been stretched. He stamped on the leaf litter and kicked up the dust, but all he found was bare rock beneath his feet. There was no cave entrance and no netting. This was the spot, the very spot, where he had left the injured Karl and Toby, but now there was nothing here to mark this place out from any other in the forest.
Jethro watched the boy searching desperately, and quite a few of the scouts were also watching curiously. Karl was smiling, as was Chris and Jez. Shane's expression was more one of concern and pity, and Matthew looked confused, like he did not want to be witnessing this. Others had a similar mix of emotions written on their faces.
"It was here. I swear to God, there was a cave right here."
Jethro shook his head and rested a hand on George's shoulder but he shook it off angrily.
"You did it. You made this happen," he spat.
Jethro was unfazed by the vehemence from the boy, and he looked at the George, his brows knit with pity. No one spoke for another minute as George desperately burrowed in the soil, looking for the elusive cave. At last Jethro turned to the assembled scouts and spoke quietly, but an edge of authority in his voice that made it clear there was no room for debate.
"Matthew, Shane, take the others back to camp and get going with the evening meal. Tell Gary that he will be in charge of getting everyone to bed tonight. No waiting up."
Now he turned to Chris.
"Chris, Jez, Karl, you will be helping our search for Toby. I don't know what George has done with him, but we will keep looking. We may be out all night."
The scouts set off, quietly, talking only in whispers for no reason other than the sombre mood that all felt now. One of their number was missing, and after the first events where the leaders had vanished, they all knew at once how serious that could be. Moreover George seemed to have something to do with it. They had all witnessed his erratic behaviour of late, but this was something beyond that. Speculation would be rife around the camp fire later, and George realised that Gary would have his work cut out getting people to bed tonight.
When the sounds of people moving through the trees disappeared into the distance, Jethro turned to the boy, and his soft, caring, pitying look was replaced with something darker. His lips were tight, and his eyes were dark with anger.
"What do you think you were playing at, leading him here?"
George blinked. Jethro was not looking at him, but at Karl. Even in the failing light, George could make out Karl's blush – saw Karl look at the floor, kicking at a loose stone with his foot.
"You wanted them separated," Karl mumbled. "This seemed like the best place."
George looked from Karl to Jethro and back again, his body trembling with anger.
"You are in on it? You are part of his 3;" he jabbed his finger at Jethro, "his disappearing acts? You are an alien too?"
Karl snorted and Jethro laughed, shaking his head.
"Oh if only you knew the half of it," Jethro spoke, his voice light with mirth but with a hard edge to it.
"So tell me. Tell me what you did with Toby!"
"All in good time. All in good time."
"I know what you are!" George stormed on, "We saw you beam up to your spaceship. We followed you. We know!"
Karl was giggling and George shot him an angry glare. Chris also was smiling, but the only sound he made was "heh", a half snort, half laugh sound that appeared to be the only laugh he could ever muster.
"Oh I know you saw me 3; er 3; beam up. Come on you stupid boy. Did you really think we didn't know exactly where you were? Even if I had not heard your ridiculously loud attempts to follow me sneakily, as you crashed your way through the jungle like a herd of rhinoceros, why didn't you know I knew exactly where you were the whole time?"
George glared at Jethro but his fingers instinctively went to the small scar on his neck.
"Oh yes, now you finally understand. You cannot go anywhere on this island and not be observed. Did you think no one knew what you and Toby did on that beach together? Do you think we were not aware of your 3; physical ministrations?"
George turned bright red, and looked away now. Karl was laughing again. If the cave had reappeared and swallowed him up right now, he would not have minded one little bit.
Jethro spat and George almost flinched although the spittle fell to the floor, and he just kicked dust at it.
"George, you made your choices. The time has come for you to start owning their consequences."
George looked again at Jethro, his face flashing with hatred. And then he turned tale and ran.
He leaped through the underbrush and set out to get back to the camp. He had to warn the others. They had to know – and quickly.
And then suddenly his body went rigid and would not obey him anymore. The last thing he was aware of was the ground coming up to meet him at speed as he crashed to the floor, locked in a running pose, his muscles no longer obeying the commands of his brain.
And then everything went black.
Chapter 8
Changes
Toby lay blinking at the light for a long time before his head began to clear from the fog of dream sleep. Only slowly did he start to realise that something was different now.
A light. Why was there a light?
Where was the camp fire? The constant smell of smoke? The breeze and the buzz of talking? Where was the murmur of insects and the cry of sea birds?
Why was there a light? A bright, artificial electric light?
George. Where was George?
Karl was hurt! He needed help!
All at once he remembered climbing down to help Karl. What had happened next? It was all a blur! Had someone found them? Toby tried to push himself up to a sitting position, but his arms would not respond.
"Help! We need help!" He croaked, his voice uncooperative as he tried to force the sound through dry lips. It would have been hard to understand his words, but he heard movement in the room now. Someone was there. He tried again "Karl 3; hurt 3; need help."
Someone came into view. Framed against the light, Toby could not make out his features at once, but it was an adult. It looked like Jethro. When he spoke, there was no doubt.
"Back with us, Toby. That is good. No need to fear for Karl, I assure you he is quite safe."
Toby relaxed back against his pillow, and only as he did it did he realise he had been exerting so much effort in his stomach muscles in an effort to sit up. But he could not move. He blinked and looked at Jethro, and now his initial relief that Karl was safe was edged with fear. This was Jethro who was not who he seemed. And if there was a room with electric lights and, to the edge of his vision, some kind of machines nearby, then this place was so very wrong!
It could be they were all back home, but this did not look like home. Now his head was clearing he could make out the room better. It appeared to be painted white and circular. Behind Jethro there was what could be a doorway – an arched frame in the wall, but if it was a door it was more like a spaceship door from the movies than a hospital swing door. The bed he was on was hard, but for some kind of rubber matting, but unlike a hospital bed, there were no metal sides.
He was covered by a metallic blanket, like the ones in survival packs, but as he pulled his arm he realised that he was not paralysed. There was something restraining him. Something was holding him, like a restraint although it was not hard. Maybe more like a straight jacket would feel, but pinning his arms to the bed. And as he looked down the bed, he saw his right leg was elevated.
Jethro followed Toby's eyes and nodded. "Ah yes, I am sorry to say your leg is broken. Quite badly too. Tibia and fibula."
"How?" The noise he made was more reminiscent of a frog than an 11 year old boy.
"Oh well, you know, you were supposed to break it when you fell from the tree root you were climbing down. But it turns out you are a lucky lad, Toby. When you fell, you glanced off the lower part of the root, rolled and only suffered minor contusions. No major breaks at all. So we had to help you out with a mallet. You were already unconcious by then though. It did make a most satisfying cracking sound. I must say Karl' malice rather exceeded his capacity for moderation on this occasion."
Toby swallowed. The man was talking in that annoying way grown ups would talk when they didn't really care if you understood, but there was venom in his voice, and what he was saying still sank in quickly.
They had broken his leg? Deliberately?
Toby struggled suddenly, his body rigid as he pulled at whatever was restraining him. He managed to make his elevated leg swing a little but otherwise the only effect of his struggle was to make Jethro laugh.
"Oh no, my boy. You are not going anywhere. Not for a long while."
"Who are you?" There was a pleading note in Toby's voice now. Moreso when he went on: "What do you want from us? Are you aliens?"
The last part sounded stupid even as he said it. Aliens was George's idea, but he had never seriously believed it. Jethro looked as human as he was. He did not look that much different from his dad! Aliens should look different – it just made no sense that a species evolving on some completely different star system would look human, and speak English. That was the stuff of 1950s television, available on re-runs on the sci-fi channel. But it was not real life.
Jethro laughed though. A long laugh that actually seemed to be filled with mirth. There might still be a sinister edge to it, but it was clear that Jethro actually found the prospect of being called an alien as funny.
As his laughter subsided, Jethro looked at Toby with a wry smile.
"Oh I suppose it will not harm you to tell you some of it, my boy. It is not as if you are going to be able to pass the knowledge on." He shook his head, went to the machine bank that was just behind Toby, just out of his clear line of vision, and prodded a few things. There was a soft buzzing and a hiss, but otherwise nothing much seemed to happen.
"The fact is, Toby," he said, turning back to the stricken boy, "It is not me who is the alien. It is you."
Toby frowned. That sounded like a non answer. OK so sure, if Jethro was really an alien then of course he would accuse the scouts of being the aliens. But even if Jethro turned around and admitted his blood ran green and he spoke fluent vulcan, he was not ready to believe that Jethro was from another planet.
"Yes, yes. I know. You don't believe me. That matters not at all. Tell me, what is an alien?"
Toby frowned. He was not in the mood to play games with someone who had just told him he had deliberately broken his leg. He clamped his lips shut tight and glared.
"Not feeling talkative? Never mind. Let's try for a definition. An alien is someone born on another planet? Someone who does not come from Earth, yes?"
Toby glared.
"Yes, yes. So, you see, you are the alien. Not me."
Toby held Jethro's gaze with his glare and neither of them spoke for a minute. A whole minute is a long time to sit quietly when you start counting time, but when that long sixty seconds had passed, the silence stretched on, and Jethro just gazed with a half smile at Toby as Toby glared back. Two minutes passed, and it must have been close to three when Toby eventually broke the silence, putting words to his thoughts at last.
"I was born on Earth. I come from Parkville. My dad is called Mike and my mum is called Jennifer. I go to Parkville Middle school. I am a scout, and I have a younger brother and a dog and two goldfish. You can't tell me I am not from Earth. Of course I am from Earth. Is this some reality TV show? Some crazy experiment? What the hell is this place? Tell me the truth!"
Jethro just smiled and shrugged.
"I never tell you anything else," he said as he turned away, and pressed another button and suddenly it was as if a window had opened in the room, and they were looking in to another identical room. And in that identical room, he could see George, also restrained on a table. From this angle he could make out the machine behind the boy, and he could see a set of shining objects that looked like surgical instruments, laid out like they would be in an operating theatre.
George was unconcious or sleeping in the bed, and there were lines inserted into his arm, and white pads on his chest like heart monitors. They had taken away all his clothes. The camera was focussed only on his upper body, but he was bare chested.
"What are you doing with him?" Toby asked, his voice anguished as he saw his friend like that. Surely they would not break his leg too. "When I get home, my dad is going to sue you for every last dollar you have."
Jethro barked a laugh. "No fear of that. And as to what we are doing, let me explain very quickly.
"It turns out that you and George are gay. We had not fully anticipated this. You see, your sexuality may be set in the womb and locked in by the age of three, but it does not get switched on until you reach puberty. By that time it is all too late though. Once set, there is nothing much we can do about this.
"But for our purposes, gay is a small problem. Not so much for you as for George. We can work with you. Sadly, George is a lost cause.
"So we have devised a new plan. You see everything is just too costly to scrap things and start over. Instead we are going to see if we can make good of a bad situation. Had we known how George would turn out, we would never have included him in the project, but we knew there would be speed bumps along the way.
"Now if you look closely, you will see how we dealt with this little speed bump. Watch!"
And with that, Jethro waved his hand over some control and the image zoomed out so that Toby could see now that George was completely naked. Could see the full length of his body. Could see his crotch.
Oh God.
What the fuck?
What had the bastard done to George?
Toby let out a whimper involuntarily, and his eyes misted with tears. He felt revulsion, terror and anger in successive waves, washing over him, overwhelming him.
This could not be happening.
It must not be happening.
The bastards.
Toby threw up.
"Vaginoplasty has come a long way since it was invented," Jethro said, turning away from the screen at last. "And George is lucky, we don't even need to change her name. She can be Georgina."
Toby looked at Jethro in despair and hatred. He could smell his puke on the floor and he felt like he wanted to throw up again.
"You will never get away with this, you fucker."
Jethro laughed.
"Oh you will find that we can, my boy. And we have. And as for the fucking – we haven't done that to you. Yet."
And with that, Jethro left the room and the lights went out, and the only sound was Toby sobbing.
Chapter 9
Georgina
George blinked his eyes a few times before he knew he was properly awake.
He hurt!
Oh man it hurt so bad. His stomach was aching like he had been kicked in the gut and his crotch felt like someone had set fire to it.
George groaned, and at once there was a hum as though some machine was powering up. Along one wall there appeared to be a mass of cabling and boxes with blinking lights and other stuff that reminded him of the router cabinet in his school – the one that was off limits to pupils, but everyone knew the keycode was set to 1066. For a moment, George had a memory of nearly being caught, having sneaked in there with his friend, Ben.
Ben. He hadn't thought about Ben in weeks. Where was Ben right now?
And then another wave of pain drove the thought from his mind.
George looked down at himself. He was lying on a bed, like a hospital bed, but there were no sheets covering him. Instead he was naked, but for bandaging all around his pelvis, and padding his aching crotch. What the hell? It looked like he was wearing a baby's nappy!
And there was a tube coming out of the bandaging – a transparent tube and he could see yellow/green pee in it.
Had he had an accident? What had happened?
He tried to move his arms to touch himself down there, and discovered they were fastened in place with some kind of plastic ties.
"Help!" He shouted, and his voice came out as a dry croak. "Someone 3; please help."
And someone did indeed come. But that someone was Jethro, and George groaned. What was he doing here?
"So you are awake." Jethro's tone did not make that a question – just an observation, as he stood over the prone boy.
"What happened to me?"
Jethro looked at the boy's bandages and smiled. The smile was not a pleasant one, and George shivered.
"You like Toby, don't you. A lot," Jethro spoke slowly and looked meaningfully into the boy's face. George turned scarlet, and looked away, ashamed. Jethro knew about that? No one was supposed to know. Jethro watched the boy's reaction, smirking, and continued.
"It seems that you and Toby have, shall we say, been seeing a little too much of each other. Oh yes, we know all about it. It is not such a great problem, but we had to fix this. You were severely unbalancing the project. Moreover you were not really living up to your promise, George. So we have rectified the situation.
"Here, let me change your dressings, so you can see."
And with that, Jethro carefully unwound the bandages, revealing a huge white gauze covered padding, that was discoloured red/brown in places with what was obviously dried blood.
As he peeled off the dressing, George winced. The dressing was stuck to his wounds and pulled at barely healed skin, and he groaned with the pain of it. But the groan became a distressed wail, when he first saw what lay underneath.
There was the catheter tube that had been protruding, but it was not going into his penis as he had expected. In fact, there was no penis. Instead there was a swollen mass of pink flesh, puffy and covered with dried blood, but unmistakably two lips and a slit beneath. The catheter ran into the slit.
"What did you do to me?" George screamed, and then sank back onto the bed. His heart was thumping in his chest, and he felt cold and clammy and weak as he contemplated what he had just seen. That could not be right. That must not be right.
George burst into loud howling tears, sobbing like he had not done for years.
As he sobbed and wailed, Jethro applied a new dressing and bandaged him up. He took his time, but all the same George cried for a long time after he was done.
When the boy's howling finally subsided to quiet sobs, Jethro spoke again.
"George. Georgina. We have made some special arrangements for you. You will have no idea of the lengths we have gone too, not to just discard you.
"When you are better, we will be taking you back to camp. Now I tell you this, because there is nothing much you can do about it. When you get back to camp, you will be exposed as having been a girl pretending to be a boy. Everyone will know you are in fact a girl."
George snorted and started to speak, but Jethro put a finger on his lips and leaned in close. So close that the boy could smell sweat and coffee breath.
"I know what you are thinking, George. You are thinking that no one will ever believe it. But you are wrong on that. They will believe it completely, and anything you say to the contrary will simply be laughed off as raving by you."
"They won't! They won't believe you. Don't you remember? You spanked us with our shorts down. They know I am a boy."
"Was a boy, George. Was," Jethro spoke with that horrible smirk on his face again. "And that is the curious thing, child. They really will not remember that happening. In fact, they will remember that you refused to drop your underpants – and how strange that was."
George narrowed his eyes, but looked disbelievingly at Jethro. That was not what happened, and they both knew it. There would be no hiding what had happened. And then what would happen when they got rescued? George's parents were never going to believe they had a daughter without knowing it. This man was plainly a lunatic.
"You don't remember your last visit here, do you George?"
George frowned. No, he did not remember a visit here. But there was something familiar about the room all the same.
"You see, George, you have been here before. Toby has been here before. All of the scouts have been here before. Sometimes one at a time, often in twos and threes. You have been visiting this place, but you think it was all a dream, don't you."
George felt a fresh wave of despair now. Yes, he had dreamt this place. He remembered the discovery when he and Toby found they had the same dreams. He would have instinctively touched his neck now if his hands had not been bound.
"So you understand, George dear, that memory modification is not so hard for us. Although it was tricky modifying everyone's memory all at once. We had to take batches of four all through the night to get it done. But know this, sweetie, not one of the scouts will find it surprising that you are in fact a girl. We arranged for several of them to have had suspicions. They will think those suspicions are confirmed. No one remembers seeing you ever pee, and they even forgot you wore speedos.
"And your talk of UFOs and aliens has helped us quite a lot you know. Plenty of people thought you were unbalanced already. If you start raving about being abducted and turned into a girl, they are just going to pat your head with concern and think the isolation has got to you.
"No George, there is no escaping this. You are, and always have been a girl. We did think about altering your own memory so that you always believed that yourself, but that will get tricky. There is just too much memory there, and it would make a real mess.
That is still an option though, so we have a deal for you. If you play along and be a good girl, we will let you keep these memories. If you make too much fuss, and things don't seem to be working out, we will have you back and fix things up. Let me tell you, if you value your sense of self, that you really don't want us to have to do that.
George shook his head but again the finger was placed on his lips.
"Don't answer me now George. You will take a week to heal. Plenty of time for you to decide to cooperate."
Jethro got up and left the room, and George broke out into fresh tears.
Chapter 10
Rest and Recovery
George woke up to find he had been moved. Now he was in a room with two beds and a huge television screen in front of them. The machines had gone and the room's bare walls looked like they were made of a matte metal. There appeared to be a doorway, which was firmly shut. On the other bed, though, was Toby, lying back, staring at the ceiling, his right leg elevated in some kind of traction sling.
"What happened to you?" George croaked. His voice was raw and his throat scratchy, but Toby heard well enough, turning his head with a start and a wan smile.
"Hey you! You are awake."
George repeated his question and Toby attempted a shrug.
"Same as happened to you I guess: Jethro."
George groaned as he remembered the conversation he had had, and looked down at the diaper like dressing. Toby followed his gaze.
"God, George! They can't get away with that."
George turned his face away, as fresh tears wet his cheeks.
"When we get off this island, we can find a doctor. Someone can put that right."
George did not ask how Toby knew what had happened. The fact that he knew was enough. And now he was with the other boy he remembered that time, just days before, when they had been discovering each other. The feelings they had felt. The gentle and yet overpowering touch of Toby's tongue on his 3;
The door opened with a hiss and both boys looked to it. There was Jethro, standing, holding a tray of food. He set it down at George's feet.
The boy realised he was ravenously hungry. How long since he had eaten? And the stuff on the tray looked like real food too. Was that cereal, milk, orange juice? Where had those things come from? They had run out of fresh milk and juice so long ago.
"Good morning boys. You maybe don't realise it is morning, but I can assure you it is a beautiful day in camp. I have just organised a search party for you both. Perhaps you did not know, George, that you ran off when I challenged you over Toby's disappearance."
George looked away, staring at a wall, glowering. It was Toby who answered.
"He never ran off."
Jethro laughed, leaned over to Toby's bed, and ruffled the boy's hair.
"Well of course he didn't. You know that, I know that. Even George knows that 3; for now" The last two word had a threatening undertone, and George snorted, but could not hide a little shiver at the implication: do as you are told, or have your memory messed with. Could they really do that? George turned to face Jethro now and spat his words out angrily:
"You won't get away with this. You think they won't believe us when Toby backs up my story? Never thought of that, did you!"
Jethro shook his head, grinning broadly.
"Oh George, I am so glad we decided to keep you. You make me laugh.
"Yes, of course Toby would back you up unless we modified his memory. And yes, we don't want to do that for the same reason we don't want to mess with yours. Don't want to does not mean we won't of course 3;
"But I digress. The fact of the matter is, Toby will not be returning to camp with you. In fact we are going to find evidence of Toby having had a significant fall later today. We are going to assume he fell from a cliff and was washed away to sea. All the scouts will be very sad you know. It will be a very very sad day.
"You, of course, will have known all about it, George. That is why you ran off. Toby discovered your secret, and you pushed him from the cliff. It was an accident, but you did it in a fit of temper. Of course you will deny it, and we won't be able to prove it. But that is what we will all think – and believe me, Karl is already primed. Did you know he and Chris heard you two arguing, and a scream? He has already put that story around. Sadly many boys already fear the worst after you ran away when I challenged you over the argument."
George struggled against his restraints angrily and started to yell.
"You will not get away with this, you fucker. You will not get away with it. Let me fucking well go."
Jethro shook his head.
"I want to release your arms George, so you can eat yourself breakfast – but I see I will have to leave the leg restraints on.
"Never mind about us getting away with this. We already did, and as I explained, your wild denials are only going to make the others more suspicious. When we find you in a few days time, be assured that you will be reviled and feared and mistrusted by everyone at the camp. Everyone."
Toby swallowed and asked quietly:
"What are you going to do with me?"
Jethro turned to the boy in the other bed, and smiled.
"Oh Toby, we have some very special plans for you, Don't you worry. But for now you will be staying here, while we do some more tests. The good news is that your broken leg is healing as expected. That is very good news indeed. We may not even need to break any more bones. At least not just yet."
Chapter 11
Re-education
"They must be aliens!" George said, miserably. Toby sighed.
"He looks human enough to me. Come on! Think about it! It has to be something else – like some secret government plot. Or maybe they are just a gang of nutters who kidnapped us somehow."
George bit his lip. They had been through this conversation many a time in the last few days. Left alone in this room, they had not had much else to talk about, and so the endless speculation was what kept them occupied, between attempts at humour and various games. I Spy had not lasted long as a game – after wall, bed, door and screen, there was not much else to say.
The monotony of the days was alleviated by a few things. One was the regular visits by Jethro to provide food or check dressings. That morning he had removed George's catheter and redressed his bandages, declaring him near healed. George had looked in surprise between his legs each day, as the healing did indeed to progress faster than he could have imagined. The skin was still pink, but all swelling had gone down now and he looked, for all the world, like a girl down there. The flesh still felt a bit sore and tender to the touch but did not really hurt anymore.
All the same, the sight of what they had done to him disgusted him, and the visits by Jethro were sometimes met by icy silence, although other times he tried pestering the man with questions. He had asked Jethro if he was an alien of course, and time and again Jethro had denied it. He had also asked if he was a spy or if this was some weird experiment or if it was all a dream. Again and again, Jethro smiled and shook his head and his only answer was that the boy was not ready for the truth.
Well he was ready enough to have been castrated and turned into a girl! How ready did you have to be?
Sometimes he shouted and screamed at Jethro, but then the man would leave, taking any food he brought with him. George had learned that the silent protest worked better.
The occasional need to poop also presented problems, as the boys had discovered Jethro would only arrive with a bedpan for them to use if they called out and asked for it. Pride warred with the disgust of lying in their own filth, and pride took second place.
After redressing his wound today, Jethro had even removed his leg fastenings, allowing him to walk around the room freely. Toby was not so fortunate, still being held in a traction sling.
The other relief to the monotony was occasional recordings on the video screen which would periodically burst into life. Jethro's voice would overlay images of parts of the island, explaining to George that these were places he was 'visiting'. He was being given information to explain how he was allegedly managing to survive on the island alone – shown where to find turtle eggs, and where there was fish, and then a whole boat wreck in a cove.
The voice over explained that the boat was where they would find him, and on the wreck there were crates of food, which would explain how he had managed to stay alive and healthy. He was shown all around the wreck, so he would know what was where, as though he had had time to explore it by himself.
George tried not to watch the recordings, but he discovered that if he sang loudly or shouted and screamed or otherwise made it impossible to hear the recordings, or even if he closed his eyes and put his fingers in his ears, the recordings would simply be looped and repeated until he was forced to watch the whole thing through.
Obviously there were cameras watching into this room, but George could not see any cameras. They must be so well hidden they had fuelled his belief in Jethro as an alien.
Knowing they were watched had put a damper on the other thing the boys wanted to do. But now, after several days confinement, and finally allowed out of bed, George had climbed into Toby's bed and held him tight.
Even knowing they were being watched had not prevented their lips touching, and their bodies entwining allowing them to feel the closeness and warmth of the other, skin to skin. Toby even felt himself getting stiff, but George pretended not to notice.
Chapter 12
A Faustian Pact
Two days passed. The only way to know this was the lighting in the room that was turned right down when the boys were meant to sleep. The routine went on, but today was different. Today, when Jethro came to change his dressing, he declared George to be healed.
Sure enough the terrible thing between his legs did now look healed. It still felt tender when Jethro touched it, but it was not excessively pink now, and there was not even any obvious scarring. Looking between his legs, George had to admit to himself that he looked just like a girl.
"How can it heal so quickly?" he asked, and Jethro frowned, probing the fleshy lips in a way that gave George a strange feeling in his stomach, like he had butterflies flying around in there. He chose not to answer though.
"I cut my leg once and had a huge scab on my knee, and it still looked pink after a week," George pressed.
Jethro still did not answer, but crossed to Toby and this time he undid the traction sling, letting the boy's leg down to the bed. Toby watched curiously and asked:
"Am I all better too?"
Jethro smiled, and shrugged. "Nearly, yes. Your bones are knitting very nicely. But another few days in that cast would be wisest."
"But its been just a week right?" Toby asked with a frown. "Because when my friend broke his arm they said it would be 4 to 6 weeks."
"The wonders of modern medicine. You boys will just have to accept it," Jethro replied. Toby looked ready to ask more but Jethro held up a hand. "Now then, boys. I mean, boy and girl. Today is George's last day here, but before we take him away, we have an important duty to perform. That is, you have an important duty Toby."
Toby furrowed his face suspiciously, and Jethro went on.
"Toby, we have George all sorted out. We know where he is going. Your future hangs in the balance though. We certainly don't want to discard you. You are a bright boy – perhaps the brightest boy we have. You have shown an aptitude for certain things. We want to bring you on side with us."
"You mean with Karl and his cronies and the people who did that to George?" Toby snarled the words vehemently as he pointed at George's crotch, making the other boy blush with shame. "I will never be on your side, you evil perverted 3;"
"Shh!" Jethro said, holding a finger to Toby's lips. "Don't say anything too rash just yet. There is no hurry to decide such things. Your decision today is much more simple.
"We need to decide whether we discard you, or whether you will, at least, be obedient enough to allow us to let you 3; live."
Toby swallowed and glared angrily at Jethro, and George gasped.
"If you want to stay alive past today, you only need do one little thing. One thing that you would probably enjoy doing, although you may be too shy ever to ask.
"We cannot wait for you to make your move, Toby, but if you would just test out your girlfriend's new parts, we would be more than happy to keep looking after you. If not 3; well 3; people think you are dead already. We don't have to disappoint Karl on that score do we?"
Toby's eyes went wider and wider, and George started to tremble.
"You are sick!" George hissed. "You can't make him do this."
"I understand how you feel, George, really I do. But you don't have the full picture here. I am not really sick – although I may enjoy watching this. This is necessary however. I would say that one day you will understand, but that is not strictly true. One day, if Toby does as I ask, he will understand though.
"But please be in no doubt about this, George, Toby – if I come back to this room this evening, and if by that time Toby has not fucked you, then 3;"
Jethro stopped talking. He had been fishing in a pocket of his hospital scrubs that he wore for something and what he pulled out was a small syringe filled with an almost clear liquid, with just the faintest hint of blue about it. He removed a cap, held it up, pushed the needle to ensure liquid came out and all air bubbles were gone, and then he leaned over to Toby's prone figure. With the cast on, the boy could hardly struggle, but he tried to as Jethro quickly moved forward and grabbed his naked balls.
"No!" Shouted George in horror, convinced that something as permanent as what they had done to him was about to happen. The boy dived forward, but Jethro was faster, pushing the needle into Toby's balls before the boy could so much as howl – which he did do now.
George reached Jethro and grabbed at his arm, and Jethro let the now empty syringe come free, before turning and holding the furious boy by his arms.
"Calm down George, or I will have to hurt you."
George aimed a kick at Jethro, which he dodged.
"Punishment level one," Jethro simply spoke the words and suddenly George was filled with agonising pain that seemed to shoot down his spine, as though he had broken his back. He shrieked in agony and fell to the floor writhing. The pain only lasted seconds but it felt much longer to George, and when it eased off, he lay sobbing on the floor, panting and unable to explain why he was lying in a warm pool of pee.
"Calm are we?"
"I will kill you," Toby seethed. Jethro just laughed.
"That was just level one, Toby. If you do not do what we asked, when I come back to this room, I will set the setting to ten for George. As for you 3;
"That serum I injected is an interesting little cocktail. It is going to make you really quite horny very soon – probably as soon as the pain in your balls eases off a bit. Please be in no doubt that you will be able to perform at least as well as pubescent teenager.
"But it also has a nice little side effect. You see, the chemicals are really quite toxic. If left too long in your body, they will form a neurotoxin that will attack your central nervous system. You will first experience paralysis, and then, as your nerves die, excruciating agony all over your body. You will probably pass out from pain before you die, but if not you will experience the joy of asphyxiation as your lungs refuse to work for you, or perhaps a heart attack instead 3; we never know which will give out first.
"But don't worry. We have an anti toxin prepared. When you have fucked your friend, we will inject it for you. Don't leave it too long. In two hours you will begin to experience paralysis. After that it will be too late."
And with those words, Jethro stood up and left the room.
Chapter 13
Fucked
Toby felt himself getting hard almost before Jethro had left the room. He tried not to look at his little stiffy pointing directly to the ceiling, but there was no denying whatever he had been injected with, after the initial pain, was now making him feel very very horny, like he had never felt before.
George was looking between his legs, looking nervous, angry, alarmed 3; maybe something else too. But credit to him, that he did not back away. Toby was still in the leg cast. There was no way he could force George to perform with him, but then would George be able to live with himself if he watched his friend die?
"It's Okay, George. You don't have to. You shouldn't. They are evil 3;"
George swallowed, but by way of answer he climbed onto Toby's bed, and snuggled into his arms, holding him tight, skin to skin. He put a finger to Toby's lips, and for a few minutes they just lay that way. Toby could feel George's heart pounding, but the boy just clung close to him, and all the time his penis was almost throbbing with an urgent need to be touched.
When George removed his finger from Toby's lips, Toby spoke:
"I wonder what would happen if we just pretended? Or if I just 3; helped myself with my hand."
George shook his head.
"Don't even try it," he said. "You 3; you can 3; you know 3; its okay 3;" And to hide his evident embarrassment, George pushed his lips to Toby's, holding his head gently in his hands as he kissed.
And as he kissed, all kinds of fires of emotion seemed to burn brighter in Toby, and all he wanted was to be closer and closer to his boyfriend. He wanted to be inside him more than anything, even though the thought of what they had done to George still disgusted him.
And so their bodies entwined, and they kissed more, and hands explored the bare skin of naked bodies. When George dropped his fingers to Toby's bum crack, freshly washed that morning by the ministrations of Jethro, he just moaned his pleasure and thrust his hips forward. George's fingers found his little boy hole and as they pressed and the boy held him, he groaned again, feeling his stiffy ready to explode.
At some point they forgot they were being watched, and forgot they were being forced to this. At some point this exploration took on a life of its own, and Toby sucked George's nipples, explored his thigh with his finger, and travelled every inch of his skin before finally arriving at the lips of his created girl hole. As he touched them, George gasped. As he explored his way in, finding a little nub – all that was left of George's penis, the boy let out a passionate moan and climbed over the other boy on the bed, trying to position himself atop the boy, which was no mean feat considering the leg cast.
With some giggling, and quite a lot of experimentation, George finally lined himself up over his friend, and then very gently lowered himself onto the stiff penis. Toby felt a wonderful pressure as the lips resisted him, but seemed to be lubricated on their way in. George impaled himself on his friend, and the world seemed to explode with passion.
They were done quickly after that, but the next few minutes were the most sensational either boy could have known. Some thrusting, and George found an urge to tighten around the cock, so that it resisted more, and suddenly there was an unexplainable burst of pleasure for Toby that was so intense he could think of nothing else but the beautiful girly boy he was inside, holding close, sharing this moment with tears of pleasure and shame running down his face as Toby took away his virginity.
And then it was done, and the boys were left feeling closer than any two boys could feel, having shared the most amazing moment possible.
And then Jethro came in and spoilt it all, by injecting Toby with an anti-toxin and congratulating them on a good job, which just left them both feeling ashamed.
***
Jethro went out and then came back with a bundle of clothes. George recognised them as his uniform – as worn and dirty as the day he had been stripped of it.
"Put these on, Georgina. Time to go."
"No!" Toby moaned, and George began to cry – more so when Jethro cuffed him.
"Do it now or we will have to try another punishment setting."
And so George pulled on his clothes. He had become used to his nudity – even with the change to his body – so there was no great relief at pulling on the clothes. In fact they seemed smelly and dirty now that he had been in a sanitised room for a week, with daily washing. The clothing felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
As he pulled on his scout shorts though, he felt something in the pocket. He pushed a hand in there, felt something but did not take it out just yet. Heart thumping, he looked to see what Jethro was doing.
"Hurry up boy 3; I mean girl," Jethro sneered. "We have not got all day."
"Can I at least say a proper goodbye to Toby?"
"You just did that!" Jethro was still sneering, but George walked to Toby anyway.
"I want to kiss him goodbye!"
Jethro sighed. "OK lover girl, one quick kiss and then we have to go."
They were both crying now as George walked to Toby, flung his arms around him, and kissed him. They held each other close, and George ran a hand over the boy's cast.
"You take care of that leg Toby. I want to see you soon."
"No chance of that, George. Toby's path is not yours anymore." And Jethro grabbed George's shirt and dragged him from the room. George started to flail and struggle and cry, but Jethro simply picked him up, stalking from the room with the boy struggling in his arms, leaving Toby to watch as he screamed and yelled, tears running down his own cheeks.
The door closed.
And Toby put a hand down his leg cast and felt what George had just stuffed in there.
Chapter 14
Return
George opened his eyes. He was lying on the beach, and he could hear gulls and the steady roar of the sea. He had not realised how quiet the other place had been until he was back here surrounded by the sounds of life once more.
He did not remember going to sleep, or anything about how he got here. The last thing he remembered was leaving Toby, tears running down his face. Remembering that almost brought the tears back again.
Slowly the boy sat up. He could hear voices. He looked around and found he was buy the wreck he had been forced to memorise, and as he looked down the beach he saw a patrol of scouts coming. Chris was there, but so was Shane. And so was Jethro.
George swallowed as there was a shout and suddenly the boys were running towards him. This was the moment. This was when he had to strike.
George stood up and pointed at Jethro.
"He kidnapped me. Don't listen to anything he says. He is a liar. He held me in some secret place for a week and hurt me and he still has Toby and he will deny it, but you know its true because he must have kept disappearing from the camp. So ask him where he went."
Shane stopped in astonishment, and Chris had a nasty smirk on his face. The others in the patrol also looked puzzled, surprised, and a little afraid.
"Now now, George. It is okay. No one blames you. Let's get you back to camp 3;"
"Liar! He is a liar. Ask him. Ask him where he has been?"
Shane scratched his head, looking sympathetically at George. Shane had always been a friend – one of the good guys, George thought. But now he looked puzzled and sad.
"George, Jethro has been with us the whole time."
"No he hasn't!" George yelled. "He kidnapped me and did some terrible operations and he broke Toby's leg and still has him. Toby is alive. He has kidnapped him."
"Honest George, he has been with us, looking for you. Every single day, we have been looking for you and Jethro was there the whole time."
"He couldn't have been 3;" and then a thought dawned on him. In the artificially lit room, had it really been day time when the lights were on? What if day was night and night was day 3; George looked flustered for a minute before asking:
"Was he with you at night as well?"
"Yes! Of course he was." Although was that a seed of doubt in Shane's face? And had Chris stopped smirking?
Jethro held out a hand.
"Come on my boy. Let's go back to camp." He spoke gently, fatherly, but there was an edge of command to his voice too, and George was not fooled. This was all part of the act. They would take him back to camp and then pretend to be all shocked when they suddenly discovered he was a 'girl'.
He could try to run now but they would assume that proved his guilt. He could keep telling his tale of abduction, but here on the beach, in the real world of the island, with the gulls crying and the breeze against his face, that tale sounded odd even to him. How would any of these others be expected to believe it.
There was only one thing left he could do. Only one last surprise he could pull on Jethro. One thing that he maybe had not counted on.
George dropped his shorts and underpants.
Shane's eyes went wide and a couple of people gasped. At once there were whispers of "girl." George blushed but used his embarrassment to focus his anger.
"He did this to me. He cut off my 3; my penis and my balls. He did this to me. You have to believe me. He is evil."
Chris' smirk was back as Jethro shook his head, stepped over and helped the boy back into his shorts. All around there were pitying looks. They didn't believe him. Oh God, they just didn't believe him.
George started to cry as they led him back to camp.
Chapter 15
Rape
"Show us your cunny, tom-girl," Karl sneered as he walked up to George on the beach. The scouts had all been collecting firewood. As Jethro said: the needs of the camp were still there however much drama we have. And sure enough, firewood and fish were depleted. No one cared about the fish, because they had discovered the food store on the boat wreck that George had allegedly been living on. There was some muttering about how there was not much chocolate left and many empty wrappers. The assumption was that George had been wolfing his way through the best food for the past week, while they all suffered on short rations.
That had not helped with the other general mutterings about what to do with the girl who had pretended to be a boy. They all assumed Toby was dead, and George was to blame. They also thought that George had some mental health issues, and the smaller boys were clearly terrified of him now, while the bigger boys treated him with almost open contempt or pity.
George was a liability. That had been said many times within his hearing. But what could they do? There were no authorities to hand him over to. There was no prison.
So eventually they had just got on with the normal tasks of collecting wood, and assigned George a role just like anyone else, while they shifted all his gear out of the boy's tents. He would not be sleeping with the boys anymore.
Now, on the beach, George suddenly realised that he was a long way from a friendly face as Karl, Chris and Jez came up to him. Worryingly there were also two of the older scouts also, who usually did not hang around with Karl.
"You know I am no girl," George spat.
"Yeah? prove it. Show us your willy."
George blushed.
The boys laughed and then Jez jumped forward and grabbed him. George started to struggle, and yell, but Jez was years older, and bigger, carrying more than a little excess weight. He held him firm with one arm around his middle, before covering his mouth with his other hand.
George struggled, but he could not stop Karl unbuttoning his shorts and pulling them down. Then the underpants came down too, and George struggled futilely while they laughed at him.
"See, you are a girl," Karl said.
And then, as George watched in horror, Chris was dropping his own shorts and Jez was pulling him down to the ground. Two boys held him down – Jez holding his arms above his head as Karl pulled his legs apart, to allow Chris to climb on top of him.
"We know you killed Toby. Everyone knows it, and I don't care what they say about not being able to lock you up – we are going to punish you for it now."
As the boy's cock entered him suddenly and without preamble, George groaned. It slid its way in, and George felt the hated boy entering his body like he owned it. He could feel the stiff cock inside him, stretching his girly parts painfully.
"I have been waiting a long time to do this to you, George," he said and then started to thrust. George wept as he felt the hard shaft push deep inside him, the thrusting rocking his body, the feeling unwillingly making his body react in some strange way, but without any of the love he had felt from Toby.
"You are our slut now, whore girl. Your role is to give us pleasure. You can be an obedient slut, and we will go easy on you – but if you step out of line ever, we will make it hurt. A lot," Chris moaned and then closed his eyes, thrusting harder and faster, and all too soon groaning with pleasure as he released his seed in a passionate frenzy into the boy.
Chris lay on him a while, breathing steadily, sated, before he finally withdrew, and handed over to Jez.
Jez was larger again, and as his stiff cock entered the boy, he squealed with pain, his body writhing as the cock filled him and he was raped like a girl, already seeing the other older boys dropping their shorts for their turn.
Chapter 16
The Brownie
George sat on the beach crying. Karl had not raped him – probably because his body was not quite up to that yet – but he had still completed the humiliation by pissing on him when the others were done. They had all joined in with that, and piss had got up his nose and in his mouth and it was all over his clothes too, even though they had stripped him of his shorts for the rape, they had fetched those back and pissed on those too.
His underpants had escaped – only because they had kept those, telling him he did not need boy underwear anymore. George realised they were not even his underpants – they were the ones Toby had left him, and remembering happier times with his friend, fresh tears fell down his cheeks
Through his tears, George became aware of someone else standing nervously a little way off. It was Shane. He stood there nervously, clearly unsure what to say. Eventually he went for:
"Are you OK."
No, thought George, I am bloody well not okay. I am so far from okay that I don't know what okay is anymore. Okay is some place lost over the horizon. He wanted to yell at the boy that he was lost on an island with a gang of monsters and aliens, that he wanted to go home, that he had been castrated and turned into a girl by the person who had put himself in charge of the camp, that no one believed a word he said and assumed he had killed his best friend in all the world, and to top it all he had just been gang raped and pissed on. He wanted to strangle someone and Shane was the closest to hand. He wanted to scream and rage at the injustice, and he wanted more than anything to be off this damned island.
"I guess," George said with a shrug.
Shane looked at him quietly, perhaps thinking there was more George wanted to say, but he did not comply. As the silence lengthened, Shane ended up coughing and handing out a small bundle of clothing.
"I 3; er 3; got you these," he said, apologetically, looking like he was scared at what George would say next. He was holding a brownie uniform, complete with panties. "Don't ask why I had them! But Jethro 3; he said I had to give them to you."
George looked at the uniform, and wanted to cry, but he seemed to have no more tears. Instead he got up, washed himself off in the sea, while Shane watched nervously from the shore. Then he came back, and without a word, got himself dressed.
At least these clothes did not smell of piss.
Chapter 17
Escape
Toby watched as Jethro cracked his cast with some kind of saw. The vibration was uncomfortable but even though the blade got very close to his skin, it had some kind of protector so that it never cut him, and there was no pain. As the cast came off, he saw his injured leg for the first time.
There was no doubting there had been an injury there was a long white scar where the compound fracture had penetrated his skin, but just like George's operation, it seemed to have healed to a remarkable and unbelievable degree. His leg was straight, and looked normal.
"You will need to be careful on it a while longer. The bones have knit well enough but they are not healed yet," Jethro said.
"What did you do to make it heal so quickly?"
"Oh I did nothing, my boy. That is all your own work."
Toby frowned. There must have been something. When he fell off his bike and grazed his knees, even they had not healed this much this quickly. What had it been? Ten days? maybe a little more. But Jethro did not seem inclined to tell him more. Instead he was looking in his eyes and ears with that damned light thing he used incessantly to inspect the boy's every cavity. He was checking his teeth yet again, and then yet more injections.
It must be the injections that helped him heal so quickly. He felt like some lab rat in a crazy mixed up experiment, and no doubt this was some illegal trial of some new super drugs. He said as much to Jethro, but the man just shook his head.
"I told you, Toby. You did it all by yourself. Now hold still, I need to insert a catheter. That last injection I gave you is going to paralyse you for a while. Nothing to worry about. Well at least, the paralysis is nothing to worry about. It will wear off in a while. The biopsy we are going to take will hurt a bit though."
Toby started to shiver and he did not know whether it was fear or the stuff he had been injected with. He tried to struggle but already his limbs seemed to be made of lead. Oh God, what were they going to do to him?
As he fell back on the bed he felt the tube being pushed up his penis and all the way to his bladder. This was the second time he had been catheterised, but it was as painful and humiliating as the first. He moaned, finding is tongue would not move in his mouth now. And then Jethro fetched his scalpel, and was opening his mouth. Toby could not resist as he shone his light inside the mouth.
Oh God, what were they going to cut this time?
As he felt a sudden sharp pain in his palate, Toby could do nothing but let out a moan to express his pain. He tasted blood, and watched in horror as Jethro extracted a small chunk of reddish flesh from his mouth, placing it in a jar, sealing the lid, and then inserting a stitch into his mouth to close the wound. After that he walked out with it without so much as a backward glance at the boy who had just filled the bag attached to his catheter.
***
Some time later, Toby woke up. His mouth was sore and he could taste blood. The lights in the room had dimmed again, so it must be night time. He found he could move his arms now. On the simple metallic table they brought his food on, by his bed, there was a glass of water and what looked like yoghurt. The boy stretched over and was about to eat it, when he thought better of it.
So often after he ate his meals he would feel sleepy and drift off. What if there was something in the food to make him sleepy?
But he was thirsty. Maybe if he just sipped a little water it would be okay.
He took a small drink and then sat up. It felt odd sitting up, but he was out of the cast now. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and gingerly put some weight on them. The leg that had been broken ached, but it took his weight, although his first steps were very unsteady. He held on to the bed and kept trying.
It was a while before he felt confident enough to let go of the bed, picking up the bag of warm pee attached to his catheter at one end and a hook on the bed at the other, so he could take it with him, but soon after that he was walking around the room. He felt tired and unfit, but he was walking again.
There was something he had to try now. But before that, there was something he really did not want to do. Toby gritted his teeth, and pulled the catheter out of his penis. The penis tip was sore as he felt it slide out of him and the feeling was very strange – painful, a little. Uncomfortable for sure. But also a little exciting, and when it slid out of his penis, the flesh remained hard and straight.
Toby was panting now, and his heart was beating faster. Now was the time to try 3; this had to work 3; it just had to.
He reached under his pillow and removed the credit card thing that George had left him. The one Jethro had dropped in the forest. He looked at it and then at the door.
There was no slot or reader like they had in banks, but then this card was not really a credit card. There was no chip or magnetic stripe – just plain plastic. Whenever Jethro left the room he never swiped anything – he just walked towards the door and it would open. It never opened for George when he had tried, so what if 3;?
Toby wished he had some clothes – a pocket to keep the card in. But he was naked as he had been since he got here. All he could do was clutch the credit card, and walk towards the door.
He had not really expected it to work. He walked towards the door and nothing happened, and he was just thinking "crap, that was useless", when, to his immense surprise, there was a hiss and the door slid open.
The corridor beyond was lit. He had seen this piece of corridor many a time as Jethro went out of the room. Jethro usually went left, so Toby turned right, his heart beating harder again now.
This was actually going to work. He was actually out of the room he had been kept in.
Toby walked down the corridor – it was longer than he had expected. Maybe 50 metres [150 feet] long, and with several doors on each side. He did not try any of them. Instead he walked to the end. There was a T junction here and he could go left or right. He looked left and saw more corridor. He looked right, and his mouth dropped open.
Oh God!
It could not be.
If he had drunk more water he probably would have peed himself.
Chapter 18
Jaz
There were some other girls in the camp. There always had been, but George had never paid them much attention. He was a ten year old boy, nearly eleven, but he had no use for girls. He recognised them of course, and even had spoken to them, but now he was being asked to sleep in the girl's camp, and that hurt him.
He was told to share a tent with Jaz. She was friendly and cheerful and tried to be welcoming to him, but he could see that she did not want to share a tent with him anymore than he wanted to share with her. In the end she moved her stuff out and squeezed in with some other girls, leaving George a tent on his own. He smiled gratefully at her and she even smiled back.
"Why did you pretend to be a boy all that time?" Jaz asked what they all wanted to know. "I bet those tents really stank."
The others giggled but George just shrugged. He thought about telling them again about what had happened to him, but they had all seen what was between his legs and not a person there would believe you could have a sex change operation, without any visible marks, in a week. And that supposed they were inclined to believe any other part of his story.
So instead he told them what the boys had done to him.
Most of the girls were looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and exasperation, but as the tears ran down his cheeks, Jaz at least frowned, and then she sat beside him, and put an arm around his shoulder. She did not say anything, but the comfort that she offered, and the feeling that he had at least expressed something of his torment, sent him into fresh tears as he put his head against her chest.
She held him a very long time, but eventually Jaz got up and wandered off, saying she would be back soon, and George looked morosely into the fire in the dying light.
***
It was much later, when George was lying in his tent, miserable but awake, dressed only in his panties, that Jethro came to the doorway, and then eased his way inside.
"I hear you have been telling tales again, George. Jaz appeared most concerned."
George scowled. He wanted to yell out and wake everyone up. But what? to tell them that Jethro was chatting to him?
"Let me tell you how it is Georgina. No, let me show you." And with that Jethro pressed something to his bare leg. The effect was almost instantaneous, as George felt himself paralysed. Then Jethro was backing out of the tent and carrying him. Unable to move or scream out, he was carried towards the forest.
When they were far enough from the camp, Jethro spoke again.
"We have done this before, but we generally help you forget. Today though, I want you to remember. The next few hours, I am going to have some boys play with you and then when they are done, I am personally going to fuck you, and if you don't get the fucking message this time, and stop telling people things that might upset them, tomorrow you will have a nasty accident and never be seen again. Do I make myself clear?"
George saw Chris and Jez coming out of the woods now, and he found that tears could still run down his face even when he was paralysed.
Chapter 19
The Dome
Fucking hell, Toby thought. He was not inclined to swear, but at this moment, no other phrase seemed expressive enough. Fucking fucking hell. George was right all along. Oh God, George was fucking well right.
They had been abducted by aliens. Jethro was a goddamned liar and an alien one at that.
The corridor he had entered was enclosed in a curved wall, but it was not a metal wall as the other corridor had been. Instead this one was made of glass, or some transparent material like glass that ran under the walkway and around it and was only broken by a metal ceiling. And beyond the glass there were stars. Millions of stars, not twinkling, but endless points of light, and they seemed to be moving. At first he thought that meant he was flying through space on some kind of starship, but Toby knew that Star Trek was naff like that. No way would you travel fast enough to see the stars moving.
He realised what actually was happening when the planet below came into view. the walkway was moving – rotating around some fixed axis he could not see above his head. And the whole thing was in orbit high above some planet. A blueish planet with green patches and the white of clouds, like Earth, but it most definitely was not Earth. The landmasses were wrong and in addition to the green there were vast swathes of red. The green appeared to be close to the poles of the planet, which lacked any visible ice caps.
Very definitely not Earth.
But there was something else. This corridor led towards another structure that seemed to curve up and away from him. Toby walked along it and slowly the structure came into view. It was massive. Larger than a cathedral or a football stadium by far, and all he could see was the near side, but it seemed to spread out in a wide arc, and with a geodesic dome forming its way up above his head, where he could not see because of the metal roof. The dome was opaque, but he could make out blueness beyond.
Toby had visited a huge biodome once, that contained a forest hermetically sealed inside a dome such as this. It was part of a gardens exhibit, re-creating a whole rainforest within a giant dome. He had thought that one was huge, but it was dwarfed by what he was looking at now. This structure was truly enormous. Unbelievably so.
He approached it along the corridor, and found where the corridor met the dome. There was a doorway in front of him. As he approached it, the door slid aside to reveal a chamber that looked like a lift.
God. He just wanted to crawl back into the bed in his room and cry.
But there was no going back. He could not unsee this. Instead he had to see what else he could find out.
Toby entered the room and looked at the buttons. They were numbered – normal numbers. Numbers he could understand, and that made no sense. Why would aliens use human numbers?
Toby picked 6, not entirely at random. He remembered the cave, and what it had said on the wall. Module 6. It was as good a number as any.
As he pressed it, it lit up and then he felt movement – not upwards like a lift but laterally, like a car. He wobbled a little and grabbed a handrail as the lift transported him 3; somewhere.
It seemed to take a long time, but when the door to the lift opened, Toby gasped with surprise. He was back in a cave just like the one he had been in when they had been captured and taken away. He stepped out of the lift past stacked boxes and looked up for the sky. It was dark, but just a little light was coming in through a crack above.
Toby stumbled through the cave, and eventually found a tree root. He grabbed a hold of it and started to climb. The root was rough against his naked skin, but he still managed to climb it, finding the way blocked by netting again. Toby pushed and it yielded a little. Somehow he managed to scramble under the netting, using it to stop himself falling.
He poked his head out and breathed in forest air. He heard forest animals. It was night time though.
Toby looked up at the sky now, laying on his back. The sky was filled with stars and some clouds obscuring them. But that could not be right. He knew now that the stars should appear to be spinning past. So what was he looking at.
He peered really closely now. The clouds were moving slowly, and there towards the horizon, was a crescent moon. He looked at that too. Did that really look just like the moon he remembered?
It was far away, but it looked real. There was even moonlit shadows, although not strong, because the moon was not full.
It had to be a clever illusion – a projection or something. Where was the light coming from though?
Toby sat bolt upright.
He had to go get George. He had to tell the others.
He had no idea how to get to camp, but if he could find the stream he could find the sea and from there follow the beach to camp. Toby set off at a quick walk, stumbling and cursing as he tripped over roots and scratched himself on the undergrowth, but he would not break stride until he found George.
Chapter 20
A Lesson from Jethro
George lay on his back, naked and sobbing. He could feel the sticky cold wetness between his legs left by Chris, and the boy's taunts were fresh in his mind. He was their slut now. Nothing but a hole to provide them pleasure. Soon every boy in camp would fuck him, and on and on it went as the boy had violently pushed, ploughed and fucked him like a girl. All the time he had felt the boy's stiff cock inside him, until the boy's pleasure had exploded and he had been held tight, skin pressed to his tormentor's teenage smelling clammy skin.
Chris had been the third boy to take him that night, but there was one left. Jethro was taking off his clothes now, and he kicked the boy's legs apart, looking down at him with a sneer.
"My turn now," he said, and with one hand he pushed the boy's head back and to the side painfully as he lined himself up and used his other hand to push his stiff cock inside the boy.
George let out a long groan of pain as the scout leader pushed his hips forward and entered him. This was the biggest cock he had taken, and it hurt! George sobbed and yelped but already Jethro was thrusting. He did not bother with foreplay, just holding George down and raping him in front of the other boys whose seed was already inside him.
"I am going to tell you something now, George. There is something you should know about what you will shortly be receiving. I probably should not tell you, but if you try and tell anyone then I swear I will just throw you off a cliff myself. So just another little bit of information that you cannot share."
George felt a particularly violent thrust and yelped, tasting sand as the man pushed his face into the ground.
"When I cum inside you, you will be receiving more than you bargained for," Jethro spoke between grunts of effort as he thrust harder and harder, making the boy's body rock. "You see, my body is not exactly human, so I am going to impart you with a gift. A very special gift. A gift that will make your body so much more adaptable. With some effort, it might even be possible to build you a uterus. That has never been done before, but I am looking forward to the chance to begin that experiment. We may yet make a real girl of you, and if we don't, well then having a low grade recreational girl is still useful."
"I said you were an alien," George grunted, and Jethro thrust again particularly hard, making him wince as the man's heavy body pressed down on his. Jethro laughed.
"Oh no, George. I told you boys already. You are the alien."
"You just said you are not human."
"I am glad you were listening, but you are confusing the issues. Let me make it a little clearer. You, George, and all the boys and girls in this camp, are aliens but human. I am not human, but unlike you, I come from Earth," Jethro grunted, thrust once more and then his face began to screw up. He said nothing else for a few seconds as he gasped and orgasmed inside the boy, shooting hot sperm deep inside the boy's body. George gasped as he felt the man's penis throb inside him, releasing sperm. It did not feel different to anyone else. Maybe this was more of the man's lies – like saying they were not from Earth. Jethro clearly saw his scepticism written in his face, so as his orgasm came to an end and he relaxed, letting the boy's head go, and lying down beside him, slowly easing out of the boy's cunt, he ruffled George's hair.
"There, now that was not so bad was it? Now you too are not exactly human anymore. Well actually depending on your definitions, you never were. But the big difference now is that your body is at this very moment being colonised with nano technology. Congratulations, George, you are the first scout on the island to be so enhanced.
Jethro stood up, dressed and started to walk away, pausing only to pick up a bundle that he threw at George. The other boys followed him, but he stopped before he was too far away and turned around to speak.
"That is your brownie outfit. Get dressed. Oh an did I forget something? Oh yes 3;" Jethro came back to where George lay. "Tell me George, will there be any more of your stories to Jaz?"
George glared at Jethro, his hatred plain in his face. Who was this man to tell him what he could and could not say.
"You cannot do this to me 3; when I get home 3; My dad is going to sue you for every penny 3;"
Jethro nodded, a finger to his lips, but George went on, warming to his threats, tears running down his face now before Jethro kicked him hard in the ribs, causing him to stop.
"I thought we had come as far as we could with this George. You are just not going to knuckle down and be a good girl are you."
George swallowed. Jethro had made some nasty threats before, and he might still carry them out. The boy got a handle on his emotions and whispered. "I will be good."
Jethro looked at him thoughtfully and then shook his head.
"No George. No, I don't think you will. I think you will always try to find ways to subvert my plans. You were always disruptive and headstrong and rash. If you had been a better leader, we might have used that 3; but I think your contribution must be 3; different.
"We won't be going back to camp after all. I think it is time we moved you on to stage three. We will just tell the scouts that you ran away again, and sadly this time we won't find you. Presumed drowned."
Chapter 21
Leaving Camp
"Shane, wake up."
Shane rolled onto his side with a groan and tried to ignore the insistent tapping on his shoulder. He was dreaming of home and warm fires and girls. But the tapping would not go away. With a groan he opened his eyes, but what he saw made him sit bolt upright and almost shouted out with shock, and joy, despite Toby's desperate attempts to indicate the need for silence.
"Toby! Where have you been? We thought you were dead."
"Where is George?"
Shane frowned. Everyone had assumed George had hurt Toby, but with the boy here now, safe and well, although apparently naked, George was in the clear. What else of what George had said was true?
"He 3;she is in the girl's camp." As Shane spoke, Toby scowled and the boy responded defensively. "It turns out he 3;she was a girl all this time. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."
"George is a boy." Toby stood up and set off for the girl's camp. "Come on!"
Shane pulled on his clothes and grabbed a spare pair of shorts and shirt. "Wait up. Put some clothes on!"
Toby shrugged but pulled on the clothes, and then he looked around suddenly, as if thinking of something.
"I will be right back," he whispered and slipped off towards Jethro's tent. He peered inside before carefully and quietly opening the flap. Then he darted in, and moments later reappeared, closing the flap behind him
After this the two of them went to the girl's camp. Shane pointed out the tent that George had been assigned, but when they knelt down and opened the flaps, the tent was empty. Toby scowled and stood up.
"Maybe he 3; she 3; he 3; is taking a pee?" Shane suggested. Toby shrugged but he was looking towards the forest now.
"Can you hear something?"
Shane listened. Sure enough there were sounds of movement – fabric on fabric, the occasional broken branch and soft voices carried on the light breeze. Shane looked in the direction that Toby had been looking and thought he could see a light. He was about to say something when Toby set off towards it and again he was left following the boy. Toby was walking with a limp, he noticed. In the moonlit gloom he could not see well, but was that a scar on his leg? Or was it just dirt? He asked the question but Toby just hushed him furiously and carried on walking.
As they got closer to the forest they could see people now. Three of them. Jez, Chris and Karl. Toby ducked down and indicated to Shane to do the same. The two of them tucked themselves behind a bush just off the forest path in the gloom.
"Did you hear something?" That was Karl's voice and Toby and Shane held their breath as the three stopped and listened. There was no sound for maybe 30 seconds, before Chris let out a snort.
"Meh!" He said. He said that a lot, Shane thought. Then the boys started moving again, walking right past where Toby and Shane were hidden.
"It's not fair. Why does George bloody well get to go first. Jethro promised me I would be the first." That was Karl's voice, and Chris grunted an agreement.
"Sooner him than me. We don't know if it works. If George lives, I am quite happy being second." That was Jez now. "Anyway Jethro says he is going to reprogram George's memory, so he can just take out the bit where George was first. If no one knows then who cares?"
***
The boys moved on and it became impossible to make out the words again, although Karl's tone remained weedling, Toby thought. God he was whiny!
When they were far enough away that sound did not carry at all, Shane looked up at Toby and spoke.
"What was that all about?"
Toby bit his lip, thought for a few seconds, then stood up and started walking into the forest, in the direction the boys had come from.
"There is no easy way to tell you this Shane," he said as the other boy started jogging to keep up. "Come see."
How long had it been since he and George had walked this way together following Jethro in the night? A couple of weeks? It felt like months. But the way was familiar and as they entered the clearing, Toby thought he knew what he had to do.
The key was Karl's diary. The map they had seen. It had made no sense at the time, but Toby's memory had always been good, and he could picture it now. The map of the island with the marks on it. He was sure that the cave he had come into was a place that had been marked with a symbol. The symbol could have been a 6 with a down pointing arrow. The clearing had an up pointing arrow by a symbol that could have been a 3. He remembered it because it looked like a letter B with a roof over it. If his guess was right then exit 3 was in the clearing, but it was not buried like the cave. If it had been, they would have found it. If it had been, Jethro might never have dropped his card.
No, it was not buried. It had to be 3;
Toby walked to the centre of the clearing. There was a rock here that he remembered, like a marker. That had to be its purpose, but it was only a foot above the ground. Toby stepped onto the rock, but it did not move. He had half expected it to, but that was not right. There was something else.
Shane was watching him curiously.
"What is it?" He asked but Toby just frowned, and beckoned him to join him on the rock. Shane climbed on, self consciously.
"Maybe it only works if there is only one person here. Maybe everyone needs a card to make it work."
That might be true but actually it did not make sense. Jethro did not get stuck in the room with George and Toby when using the card. Maybe these doors were different to protect against accidental exposure – but Toby thought not. It seemed obvious that Jethro was quite happy to use their memory device to fix problems if they were discovered. A sudden thought crossed his mind. Had they discovered all this before? Why had Jethro taken such an instant dislike of George?
He brushed that thought away. That was not helping.
There was only one thing he had not tried.
"After 3, we jump. Ready? 1 3; 2 3; 3 3;"
Two boys jumped from the rock, and as they did so there was a sudden rush of air and a bright light as the sky above appeared to turn instantly to daylight, just in a tiny area directly above them. Even as they jumped, and they should have been in the air, Toby was aware of the ground coming with them, and then pushing them upwards hard and fast. Toby looked down in shock and saw the rock seemed to be coming with them and they were hurtling up into the air, faster and faster. The boy lost his balance, as did Shane, but as they fell against what should be empty space, they hit a firm surface and realised that the rock had been surrounded almost instantly by a clear wall, like glass or transparent plastic.
The boys crouched uncertainly as they looked down, seeing the ground receded as they hurtled towards the light above 3; and then right through it.
"My God," Shane whispered, his face white as he clung to the ground, terrified by what he saw. "My God, It's full of stars."
Chapter 22
Full of Stars
As they hurtled upwards the boys realised that the light they had seen was still with them. Looking up, they could see the sun shining down on them. But no, that was not right. The sun was off to one side, a bright light blazing in an inky black sky, shining through the almost transparent walls of some kind of tube they were hurtling through. In fact the wall was not transparent, but tinted, but still the light from the star was hot on their skin, as was the light from above, but as they moved towards it they realised it was not another star, but a huge parabolic mirror, beaming reflected light down onto the surface of the dome below. The dome was opaque, but there was clearly a patch that was transparent exactly where the beam was touching it, low down on the dome's side, perhaps where the morning sun should be rising.
They were heading towards the mirror and as they got closer they realised how monstrously large it was. At least the size of the radio telescope at Parkes Observatory or Jodrell bank. But there was more. The mirror was attached to some kind of rail mechanism, but the whole mechanism seemed to encircle another circular structure, and the tube they were in was heading straight into it. As their progress slowed they could make out the structure of the tube too – a metal spoke work that attached this central structure to the dome below. The dome, from here, obviously had structures hanging off to each side – corridors and box like rooms, but the dome was the major structure.
What was very curious though was that theirs was not the only dome. Beyond the circular central structure there was another spoke heading out in the opposite direction, and despite the mirror array and central structure obscuring their view, there was clearly another dome at the far end of that spoke.
Two more spokes ran out at right angles to these two, but there were no domes on the other two, just a giant structure that looked like a giant bolt attached to the spoke roughly halfway along its length.
And the whole thing was clearly spinning, so that the planet Toby had seen before was again coming in to view.
They were still moving towards the centre but Toby felt like he was falling now. Shane looked like he felt it too. The feeling was most unsettling and the boys held on to the ground, there being nothing much else to hold. The lurching falling feeling was intensifying and as they approached the central hub, Toby realised what it was.
"We are weightless."
Shane was looking out of the window, face pale with shock. He seemed unable to form words any more.
As they passed into the central hub there was a small whir and the capsule they were in seemed to spin around, sending them sprawling. Now the ground was on the ceiling, but as soon as it had spun, it felt like gravity was switched on again and they fell to the ground. Except then it went off again, and they realised that in fact, it was just that the movement had stopped.
They had arrived.
Somewhere.
There was another whir, and the bright white space they had just entered got brighter again, and Toby realised that the tinted not-quite-transparent cover that had been encapsulating them had been removed. Beside them there was a gang way that seemed to curve away, disappearing down a curved corridor. There were hand rails all the way alone too.
"I guess 3; we go this way," Toby whispered.
"Like hell. How do we go back?" Shane looked to where they had entered the central hub. There was clearly some kind of doorway they had come through but it was shut now.
Toby looked at the rock they had ridden on. It still looked like a real rock – oddly out of place in this white space. But unlike the other door he had used, there was no set of buttons. That perhaps made sense. This particular elevator or whatever it was called presumably was point to point. The only place it would take them was back to the island. How it was activated was not clear – perhaps you had to jump again, but Toby was not going to try that, which meant Shane had to come whether he wanted to or not.
"I don't know. We should explore and see if we can find out."
"No! I am not going anywhere until I know who you are and what is going on."
Shane folded his arms, but his movement sent him rocking backwards and into a light spin that had him bounce slowly off a wall. Toby almost laughed, despite Shane's scowl as he grabbed a hand hold.
"Shane, I am Toby. You know me. We go to the same school, and are in the same scout pack. Your sister is annoying as hell, we both went skinny dipping in Mister Robert's pool last year as a dare, when he was out at bingo, and I gave you a black eye in kindergarten when I accidentally hit you with an F-16."
Shane glared. "That was not an accident, and you broke my landing gear on that F-16"
Toby shrugged but smiled. "Well it was an accident – I was aiming for your mouth, not your eye. And you shouldn't have brought your planes to kindergarten."
"It was the last day of term! We were allowed games."
"Should have brought your teddy then."
"Real boys don't have teddies."
"Sure they do. I have a whole collection."
"Figures."
"Don't talk to me about real boys. I know about the girl clothes you packed."
"Shuttup!" Shane growled. "That was a mix up. I got my sister's case by accident."
Toby rubbed his chin and nodded sagely. "An accident. Yes. Of course."
"I swear to God, if I had an F-16 I would take your eye right out now!"
Toby giggled. Shane glared, but then his face broke into a smile.
"Okay Toby. So tell me, what the fuck is going on."
Toby looked around, his smile fading. Oh God he wished he was back in kindergarten.
"I don't know. But I have a theory. You know all George's crazy talk about being kidnapped by aliens?" Shane nodded as Toby began to explain his ideas. "I think he was right and Jethro is an alien and we were all kidnapped somehow and the whole island was somehow transported here. Don't ask me how. But this ain't Kansas anymore. I don't know – maybe it was a wormhole. I heard they can exist, and somehow they turned our whole island into 3;well 3; whatever it is now.
"I think Karl and Chris and Jez know about it. Jethro is behind it all. He is here somewhere I bet you.
"I don't know what he or they are doing. But one thing is for sure, we are never getting rescued if we sit on our butts worrying down 3; or up 3; There." Toby Jerked his finger towards where the camp would be, "So come on, let's find out where this place leads."
Toby set off now, pulling himself along the gangway using the handholds. The first attempt rammed him into a wall and Shane giggled, before doing much the same himself. Only slowly did they get the hang of gentle movements making use of their inertia, and just guiding themselves along the gangway. As they went, Toby explained to a horrified Shane about what they had done to him and George.
"Why are we weightless?" Shane asked after a while
"Everything is weightless," Toby explained. "The spinning creates centripetal force, which made us think there was gravity out there at camp. Here we are too near the middle to notice it."
Toby was about to warm to his subject and get all geeky on his friend when he stopped and whistled.
"What now?" Shane asked, crashing in to him.
Toby pointed. The corridor had opened up into a chamber.
A chamber with a spaceship.
Chapter 23
No Going Back
George's hands were shaking. He could not help it. He felt sick, and not just because of the horrible falling sensation he was feeling. He was buckled into a seat that looked just like an airline seat, except that instead of a lap belt there was a harness that ran right over his shoulders and down to his middle.
Unlike a plane, though, there were no windows and only three rows of seats. Not that more were needed as the only other person strapped into a seat was Jethro, sitting next to him.
He was about to take a flight into space! He had seen this on movies before, but why didn't Anakin Skywalker look more scared in Star Wars? Didn't he realise that there was really no air out there. And where on Earth was he going? Well 3; no 3; clearly nowhere on Earth at all.
Because he too had taken a journey up the central spoke from camp to the hub complex – not more than half an hour before Toby had done the same. He had been accompanied by Chris and Karl and Jez, sneering the whole time, making fun of the 'slut girl', and letting him know his life as he knew it was over. But it was not until Jethro picked him up and simply jumped into the air that he had realised quite how true their words were.
George had tried to struggle as he and Jethro rose into the air – the sensation no more unsettling than an elevator, except that he had thought at first there was no side to this elevator. They were rising into the air on what? When he had seen a rock underfoot, carrying them upwards, and the ground falling away below, he had felt a sudden wave of vertigo.
The movement upwards had accelerated, but he became aware that he was surrounded by a transparent wall. How long had that been there? It was so clear that he only noticed it from the reflections of the light from above that seemed to be shining in through the sky.
And then they had literally burst through the sky, and George saw a field of stars, not sparkling – just shining like millions of white points of light, and framing the scene, a huge planet. A planet that was clearly not planet Earth.
They had been abducted by aliens. He was right.
But that moment of vindication of all his fears was not a triumphant one. Instead there was a realisation that he was being held by an alien adductor on an elevator that was taking him away from the closest thing he knew to the real world – the camp – to some new unknown place. A place where Karl had said his life as he knew it would be over.
That was when George wet himself.
Jethro looked down. He clearly had noticed the warm trickle of pee that was running down the boy's legs and onto him as he held the boy in his arms. He did not comment on it though. He did not say anything. He just stood there, unfazed and not holding on, like riding a space elevator was the most natural thing in the world.
George had tried asking him questions.
"Where are we?"
No answer.
"What planet is that?"
Nothing
"So you are an alien after all."
Did Jethro shake his head slightly? He did not say anything though.
Eventually George stopped asking. How was Jethro still holding him? He was ten years old. Most adults complained if they held a ten year old for this long, and surely it would be safe to set him down – it was not as if he would try to jump out of the window. But Jethro held him, unstinting, and saying nothing. Not even showing signs of discomfort.
Only when they entered the central hub and the whole elevator had flipped did Jethro put him down. The flip was unexpected, but again Jethro did not even steady himself. He seemed to anticipate the movement, adjust his weight and held George the whole time.
Now though the weight was clearly not a problem, because George discovered he did not seem to have weight anymore.
The capsule opened and Jethro took a hold of George again and then leaped for the gangway, grabbing a hand hold. In this fashion he dragged the protesting boy along the corridors until they had arrived at the space ship.
George would have peed himself again if he could.
A real life space ship. There was no doubting it. There were something like rocket engines at the back, and a sleek design, complete with a kind of wing? Why would a spaceship need a wing? But like so many of the spaceships in the movies, that is what it had.
And then it dawned on him. Wings meant it was like a space shuttle – it was designed for reentry to a planet. And there was only one planet he had seen, and that sure as hell was not Earth.
"Take me back. Please. I will be good. Don't take me on that." George had wept as he begged, clawing at Jethro's fingers, trying to get the man to release him.
The man's grip was like a vice though, and his skin was tough. He did not seem to notice the scratching of George's fingers. As he approached the spaceship, the door slid open in its side, just like all the other doors on this place, and Jethro launched himself weightlessly through, banging George against the side, only because the boy was struggling and screaming to be set free.
Once inside, Jethro had manhandled him into a seat and pulled the harness over his shoulders, snapping it into place. George looked at the harness, seeing a red button where there release would have been on a fair ground ride, but just like a fairground ride in motion, the release did nothing. Jethro watched the attempt with a smile.
"Where are you taking me?" George asked, miserably, tears pouring down his cheeks, and his voice breaking as he gulped back terrified sobs.
At last Jethro broke his silence.
"You saw where we are going. I think you know already."
George felt a lump in his throat, and the terror only deepened.
"But why? Why can't you just take me home? Please just let me go home. Please."
Jethro gave him a smile that almost looked sympathetic now.
"Oh George, but you are going home. That is your home."
George let out a desperate howl and for a while could not speak at all. Jethro just watched him quietly, as he was consumed by his terror.
"My home is on Earth. I want to go back to my mum and dad, I want to see my dog again. I want to go and play on my bike. God, I even want to go back to school and see my friends.
"Please sir, please, please let me go home."
Jethro put a hand under George's chin and lifted it, looking into his face, contorted with misery. George looked back at him, feeling like this just could not be happening. This place. Everything. Could. Not. Be. Happening.
"George, listen to me carefully now. You cannot go back to the home you remember. You cannot go back to your school. You cannot see your mum and dad ever again. It is not possible, and for one very good reason.
"George, your family that you remember seeing a couple of months back – they all died at least a hundred years ago."
George shook his head, tears running down his face.
"You are a liar. You are a fucking liar. Take me back to them you liar."
Jethro shook his head. "I cannot take you back to them George. They all died over a hundred years ago. And you know what George?" Jethro looked into George's eyes, his steely blue eyes unblinking. "So did you George. So did you."
Chapter 24
Answers
The spaceship lay a long way below them, but they were weightless. The concept of above and below was all relative, and Toby simply jumped off the walkway, pushing himself in the direction of the spaceship. He drifted down and slowly collided with the hull, grabbing on to some piping to arrest his movement. He waved for Shane to follow suit.
Shane did, but launched himself too fast, and collided with Toby hard. Toby grabbed onto him, yelping at the pain of impact.
"What are we doing here?" Shane asked. "I don't think it is safe."
Toby considered and decided Shane was right. Spaceships were designed to travel in space – so it was reasonable that somewhere here there was a door into space – and that was certainly not safe. But then, this spaceship was not going anywhere, he thought.
But that was when he noticed that the spaceship was vibrating, and there was a hum coming from it.
"I guess you are right. Let's get out of here." Toby was about to launch himself back at the gangway when a voice spoke. A voice he recognised well enough. A voice that made his heart sink.
"Toby, so good of you to join us. I did wonder when you would get here. Such a pity that you brought Shane with you. That was an unexpected complication."
Toby looked down at the floor that the spaceship was resting on, and saw Jethro standing there, looking up at them, arms crossed and that damnable smile on his face.
"You know, Toby, I would surely have realised I had lost my keycard, don't you think? But I am so glad George saw fit to slip it to you. So much more convincing than my accidentally dropping one in your cell."
Toby frowned. He had been meant to find that?
"Why are you doing this?" He yelled at Jethro. "Why?"
Jethro smiled and shook his head, looking down for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. When he looked up again, he was still smiling.
"You don't remember the last time you found your way out, of course. Last time it was just you, George and Karl. Now we have Shane to add into the mix. Another restart is going to be costly, but I suppose we can do a partial wipe on Shane here. It might work, but I suspect he will be next on the special measures list. No I think Shane has to join the two of you, and we will just leave his disappearance as unexplained."
Jethro sighed, and Shane swallowed, looking confused by this turn of events, but clearly understanding the dark implications. For Toby, however, something else had struck him.
"Karl? what about Karl?"
Jethro laughed.
"I thought that would pique your interest, lad," He said. "You see, you, George and Karl were all friends the first time around. There was a bit of rivalry, certainly, but you were all up to far too much mischief from the start.
"The three of you found one of the caves – the same one Karl took you back to, which was stupid of him. I had words with him about that. I did not want you finding your way off the island so soon, and once you were in the cave, there was really no choice but to take you off.
"After the last time you found the cave we decided to reset the scenario. We were only days into it, and we need you scouts to be on that island for years for this all to work. At least, we need some of you scouts on the island for years.
"When you found your way out before, we made a decision – we would try and introduce a greater amount of control by enlisting one of your own. We took Karl into our plans, because it was our estimation that he was the most scheming of the lot of you and likely to be the best authority when he is a little older.
"We did consider you for the job, Toby. We thought you had great potential, but already it was clear that you were too close to George. If we had allowed you to keep your memory, we might as well have done the same for George. So we decided on Karl instead.
"A pity he is such a schemer. All the same, he is the best we have. I think we will still let him become the eventual leader."
Toby listened, frowning, looking more than a little confused. So much of what Jethro was saying still made no sense. He asked the most pressing question.
"Leader of what?"
Jethro was silent a while, as though thinking about the answer. After this pause he held out a hand.
"Come into the ship, and I will explain it all. You too Shane, although I am sorry to say you will have no more memory of this conversation tomorrow than you would have of a bad dream," Jethro shrugged. "But you cannot very well stay outside."
Toby made no move to follow, and Shane looked from one to the other and clearly decided he would not do so either.
"Toby, you can come inside and I will explain it all, or you can stay out here and in thirty minutes the space door will open and you will be set adrift, although you will already be dead by then as we have to extract the air from this chamber first.
"It is your choice, boys, but it is no joke. Come in and live or stay there and die. I am telling you no lie about that. The air is already thinner than when you entered. You will notice it very soon."
Toby still did not move.
"George is in here waiting for you," Jethro offered and Toby frowned darkly, but now he followed. He did not want to go anywhere Jethro would take him, but there really was nowhere else to go.
And George was in there.
***
The boys entered the space ship, climbing through a hatchway, and seeing the tight layout of airliner style seats. There was a squeal of joyous recognition.
"Toby!"
Toby looked at George and he smiled back crookedly. There was no doubt he was glad to see his friend again, regardless of the gravity of the situation. Jethro indicated seats and the boys sat down, all in a row, able to see each other and talk.
"Where are you taking us?" Toby asked.
"What are you going to do with us?" George wanted to know.
"Why the fuck are you doing this? And who the fuck are you?" Shane asked at the same time.
Jethro held his hand up, and then began with a question of his own.
"Toby, you are the cleverest one here. Tell me – how long would it take a spaceship to travel from Earth to a star 20 light years away? Assuming that you don't have warp drive, wormholes or any other sci-fi guff?"
Toby frowned. He did not want to answer, but then Jethro was offering more information now then in all the time he had been locked up with George. He wanted answers, so he offered one.
"Nothing can go faster than light, so at least 20 years," he answered.
"At least, yes. And in fact a lot longer. The energy costs of approaching anything like light-speed are prohibitive. So in fact it took nearly a hundred years for this spaceship to arrive at this planet – the closest suitable colony world to Earth."
A colony world? That made no sense.
"If it is a colony world, where are the coloni 3;" Toby tailed off and Jethro smiled as he finally understood. Toby turned white and shook his head. "No 3; no, that is crap. I live on Earth. This has to be some kind of wind up. You just want us to think 3;"
"No, Toby. It is not a wind up."
"So what, you kidnapped us, put us in suspended animation and transported us out here?"
Jethro shook his head again.
"Still not thinking clearly, Toby. Imagine a ship flying at unimaginable speeds through space for 100 years with all those colonists sleeping through it. Every one of them victim to cosmic radiation, and perforated by a million pieces of space dust and larger chunks of rocks, ripping through their fragile organic bodies.
"How many of them do you think would live to wake up at the far end? And what about the costs involved in doing such a thing? Uprooting all those people and creating all the systems and resources to keep them alive – all that energy wasted.
"No, suspended animation was ruled out. We had another plan in mind. A good thing too, as even with constant repairs, there was one nasty patch where we lost nearly a quarter of the ship.
George had his head in his hands. He had the information that Toby was lacking, but now Jethro explained how their parents and everyone they knew had died over 100 years ago.
"You see, Toby," Jethro went on as Toby sat in shock at this revelation. "You see, we did not have faster than light transport and probably never will. We did not have impenetrable shielding or even really good suspended animation technology. But what we do have is a very good understanding of how the human memory system works. We are able to extract memories and implant them, and to a limited degree we can also erase memories, or at least confuse the brain into thinking they are dreams.
"So we took an experimental group of scouts on an island, and we recorded each of their memories, storing these in multiple redundant computer systems and sent those off with frozen embryos we created from a sample of their own stem cells, and a few minor enhancements. They thought this was a routine check up. The real Toby, the real George, and the real Shane had no idea what we took, and went on to have an enjoyable fortnight camping on a remote island before returning home, full of the wonders of the adventure.
"Even before the arrival here, we started growing the embryos. It was a tricky task. The human species is designed to be born after nine months gestation, but we were able to prolong that through heavy sedation. All the same, it was important to develop fitness and allow your bodies to grow normally, so we set you loose in the first camp, under my watchful eye. You were like a bunch of really big babies, but it was good to see you learning to walk and after a while you learned to communicate, forage and live a caveman like existence.
"We knew, though, that puberty was going to cause us some issues, as you started discovering sex. The oldest six of you discovered puberty, and had to be kept apart from the opposite sex from that point on. We did not want any more babies just yet.
"We had a plan though. Before the majority of you reached puberty we would replace all your memories with the ones we had brought with us. The primitive naked apes running around on the island became civilised scouts with a fair amount of survival training.
"You remember arriving at the island, and having adult leaders. I have to tell you, that those are implanted memories. There were never adult leaders here. The event was staged on the original camp island, and then the scouts were quickly told it was all a test, after which they had their medical exam and went on to have an fun camp together.
"There never were adult leaders here. It was just you and me in your camp."
"So who exactly are you?" Shane asked, Toby nodding, wanting to know exactly that.
"I am the space ship's computer's human interface."
"A robot?"
"An android, yes. Although my brain is actually the ship's computers, linked wirelessly. What you see is just an extension of the ship's computer."
"That is tosh!" Toby retorted. "We don't have androids like that. We don't have space ships either."
Jethro smiled.
"You are sharp, Toby. That is why we kept you. We hope you will become one of the leading engineers for the colony."
"Just answer the damned question."
Jethro shook his head. "You did not ask a question. You made a statement. And if I remind you that I said you and your parents died over a hundred years ago, you will perhaps find the answers to what you want to know."
Toby scowled, but already he had seen what Jethro was pointing out. The ship had travelled for a hundred years or so, but how old had the boys been when they died? Probably a lot more than 11. So they had taken the memories many years before the ship had left earth. Why? He asked that question now.
"Originally," Jethro told him, "The DNA and stem cell samples were taken as a proof of concept and part of a secret experiment into space travel. Long before the ships even began construction, there were experiments on the process. Not just your camp either. There were a number of other groups from whom we took memories and samples. Most of them were children, as we knew that early implantation was important. Initial research suggested that the memory implantation was likely to fail in older candidates.
"We simply chose your memories for this colony, because the experience of surviving on a scout island is exactly what you are going to need on the colony.
"So of course, the ship construction only took place once there was money and political will for it. Things had to get a lot more dicey on Earth before that happened.
"There is life on this colony world you know. That was unexpected but welcome. We thought that we would have to create a surface based biodome and then extend from that as we began terraforming the planet. From Earth we could not tell if there was life – all we could tell was that there was water and land and a broadly breathable atmosphere – and it took some very clever new science to discover that much.
"If the world had been inhospitable, we would have changed course for the next most likely planet, but it was a real bonus to find some life on the planet – actual DNA based carbon lifeforms, including some vegetation and even a few very small animals and plenty of microbes.
"That was a challenge too though. Humans are adapted for Earth, and this planet has a different atmospheric combination that was not poisonous, but not ideal. The microbes were likely to prove hostile, and you were not well adapted to metabolise the vegetation.
"We have managed to improve you somewhat though, and with the help of some nano technology, you will be able to metabolise the food. Only George has that technology so far, but Toby, you will need it too, or you are likely to get ill very quickly."
"I am not going down there!" Toby growled. "Take us back to camp. Let us tell everyone what is going on."
Jethro shook his head.
"That is not in the plan, Toby. You two are going to set up the bridgehead. Imagine, you will be the first people to set foot on a brand new world. You are Adam and Eve."
"Fuck you!" George growled, turning red at the implication he was Eve. "If all you say is true, why the fuck did you do this to me?" He asked, pointing at his crotch.
"George, think! What is the ratio of boys to girls in the camp?"
George crossed his arms and did not answer, glaring at Jethro angrily.
"Five to one. There are five boys for every girl. That is deliberate you know. Do you know why?"
George kept glaring. Toby watched him quietly, his heart aching for his friend. God, if all Jethro said was true, then there was no hope for George. He was stuck that way.
"The reason, George, that there are five boys to each girl is all down to labour and resources. When you colonise the planet, we will need a lot of manual labour, for which boys are well suited. You would think we need a lot of girls to carry the next generation, but in fact we need to limit colony growth to start with. Resources are limited until we can find new ones on the planet. We have food supplements and the biodomes here. We have equipment, metals and construction machinery. But we don't have much of it. Every gram of weight adds to the energy cost of transport getting it here.
"You may think this ship is vast – I know you saw the biodomes and other structures – but it is a limited resource, and if the colony population grows too quickly too soon, then you will consume all your resources before you become self sufficient.
"We carry spare embryos in the event the colony dies out, but we don't have spare resources. So we limited things by making sure that there were fewer girls than boys."
"So why make me a girl?" George asked, tears running down his cheeks. He too had clearly realised the permanence of what had happened.
"You are a girl without a uterus, George. On an island of horny boys and men, they are going to need some recreation. We decided that you would become their slut. We had already suggested to Karl that the future colony should consider establishing itself around a caste system or a slave based system."
"What? Fuck off. We are not having slaves!" Toby spat and Shane growled his agreement.
"When this ship was programmed, the planners on Earth designed the systems to offer adaptable solutions designed to best serve the colony and ensure its survival. They may not have specifically decided it for you on Earth, but they empowered me to decide what is best. A caste system or a slave based system is the optimal solution for ensuring a married elite in the first generation. We have chosen Karl to head up that elite. Karl has agreed with the plan."
"Karl can stick the plan up his bum and explode trying to fart it out for all I care. I am not going to be his slave," Toby roared.
"You are not planned to be," Jethro said calmly. "It is George whose destiny is to serve that way."
Toby's eyes narrowed.
"Let me get back to the camp. What you are doing is wrong. We need to tell everyone and let them make their own decisions."
"I can't do that, Toby," Jethro said.
"Why the fuck not? If you are a machine you can bloody well obey your human masters. God, haven't your read Asimov?"
"I can't do that," Jethro said again. "Because while we have been talking, the space doors have opened and this ship is already manoeuvring for atmospheric entry. I suggest, in fact, that you fasten your seat belts – this is always extremely bumpy."
Chapter 25
Flight
Toby and Shane reluctantly strapped themselves in as they felt the movement of the spaceship, and Jethro left them under no illusions about how dangerous it would be to be unrestrained on atmospheric entry.
He had one extra unwelcome surprise though. Once strapped in, he dropped his trousers to reveal a very human looking adult penis.
"Now, boys, you are each going to give me a blowjob."
Toby reddened and Shane shook his head.
"Fuck you!"
"No, Shane. I will fuck you. I will fuck you because if I don't, then you will die very quickly when we land. I will fuck you because you need to have the nano bots I will inject helping you metabolise the food and atmospheric oxygen without having it accidentally kill you.
"Ideally I would fuck you in the bum, but as it would be impractical in this confined space, we will make do with a blow job."
And with that he rammed his cock into Toby's mouth. Toby gasped and felt suddenly unable to breathe, gagging as the cock slipped right down his throat, gasping and making alarmed noises as Jethro began to thrust.
"Of course I could use a syringe. I don't really take pleasure from doing this to you – I don't really feel pleasure. Sadly for you, it seems that the programmer of these systems had darker fantasies, and he programmed in this necessity. Never mind."
And with that Jethro ejaculated, and Toby felt his mouth fill with cum – or whatever this android produced in its place. He swallowed it, feeling it slide down his throat, feeling sick and still gagging and gasping before Jethro withdrew.
Now he did the same to Shane, but Shane bit down hard on the cock as it entered his mouth. Jethro did not even flinch.
Well that settled it, Toby thought, he really was a bloody machine. That and the fact he could ejaculate twice in a matter of minutes.
He withdrew minutes later, leaving Shane clutching his mouth, leaning forward in his seat, groaning at the taste.
"Now sit back boys, and enjoy the ride."
And with that Jethro fastened himself into his seat.
***
Atmospheric entry turned out to be extremely scary. Toby's knuckles were white as he gripped the handles of his seat, feeling a desperate urge to pee his pants, and only just avoiding doing so.
The spaceship was bucking wildly – like it was flying through an angle grinder, and the loud cracking and creaking noises punctuated by loud bangs did not inspire confidence. The forces were extraordinary – one moment it felt like they were falling and then suddenly they would be pinned to their seats, unable to move, worse than being stuck on a fairground ride.
And even as he thought that, Toby wondered – had he really never been on a fairground ride before?
He managed to turn his head during one of these crushing moments, and saw George with his eyes shut, lips pulled back in a tight terrified grimace. Beside him sat Jethro – and scariest of all was that Jethro appeared to be asleep – or dead. He was not moving at all.
How could he sleep through this?
And then Toby realised something.
The space shuttle, when that had been in service, went through re-entry like this, and there was always a communications blackout during the re-entry.
Jethro had said he was an extension of the ship's computer, connected wirelessly to it. If they were in a communications blackout right now, then Jethro was here in body right now, but not in mind.
How long did that blackout last? He seemed to recall it was a matter of minutes on the space shuttles. If this ship was anything like those, then there was not long to act, but action was hard when you were being thrown around a spaceship re-entering a planet's atmosphere. What was more, the action he was thinking of could have one very nasty unintended consequence.
Who was flying this ship? Jethro? The orbiting ship's computer? Or was it self navigating?
As the ship lurched through another gut wrenching turn, he decided it had to be autonomous. If there was a communications blackout, the re-entry must be programmed into the ship. He would just have to hope that was the whole re-entry and not just this bit – but why not? If you could program the ship to do one part then why not all of it.
In which case, they did not need the android.
Toby reached inside his pocket and pulled out the flare gun he had taken from Jethro's tent earlier. God, he hoped this was a real flare gun and not just some prop, now that he knew that there was no one to see the distress flares.
But that was not true. The scouts might need to send calls to each other, and what would they think if they found out their flare gun was a fake. So maybe 3; hopefully it was what it claimed to be.
There was one shot. Just one flare. How much damage could a flare do? And how to make it so that it did not set fire to the whole spaceship.
There was only one way to find out, just one thing to do.
Toby pressed the release on his seat harness, but it did not come off.
Crap. He was locked in.
"Shane, do you have a knife?" he shouted over the noise. Shane looked at him like he was crazy, his eyes wide with fear. All the same he nodded, before a sudden lurch wrenched them both sideways.
"Give it to me!"
Shane thrust a hand in his pocket on the third attempt – missing the first two because of the shaking, but he managed to pull out a Swiss army knife. Toby put his hands around it and managed to take it, and with some difficultly, extended the blade and started sawing at his seat restraint.
Useless. The fabric was too strong. This was going to take too long.
Instead he rammed the blade as hard as he could into the release button. A plastic cap popped off, and he could see the mechanism underneath. There was a simple circuit board – he pried that up and under that he found the metal of the buckle held with a clamp.
How was the clamp held in place? There – he saw something wrapped in a ceramic wrapper. That must be the electromagnet. Toby cut the wire and yelped as he gave himself an electric shock, dropping the knife, but he had succeeded. The harness came free.
The timing was terrible as another huge lurch shook the ship and sent him sprawling on the floor. Shane was looking on in terrified confusion.
Shit! He had dropped the flare gun. Toby held on to a seat footing as the ship lurched and threatened to send him hurtling around the cabin. The flare gun went flying out of reach.
Toby pulled himself towards the gun, and it moved again, now lodging itself under Jethro's seat.
How much longer did he have before Jethro woke up?
Toby cursed and hauled himself towards Jethro's seat, holding by his hands as one sudden drop lifted his legs in the air and then banged him down again. Toby cursed as his left leg collided with a seat and he heard a loud crack and felt sudden terrible pain.
Not again!
Feeling sick with pain now, Toby clung on. His left leg was broken for sure, and a compound fracture too. There was blood flowing down his leg.
"Oh God!" Shane's voice, but there was no time. He had to get the flare gun. He had to get it now.
Toby reached out and his hands closed on the gun. He pulled. It was stuck.
Crying with frustration, Toby tugged again. Then he pushed and the gun moved. Lift, pull 3;
Another lurch and it was stuck again. Toby lifted again. At last it was coming free.
How long had it been?
How long until Jethro woke up?
Crying with pain, Toby grabbed the handles of Jethro's seat and pulled himself up against the pull of G forces. The force sent his broken leg in the wrong direction and he howled in agony as the bones ground together. God, he nearly lost the gun.
But he still had it. And he was almost face to face with Jethro. He put his arm around the sleeping android, holding him in a supporting embrace.
And now, ever so carefully he brought the gun to the android's face, and pushed it into his mouth.
The mouth would not open. Fuck. It needed to go in the mouth.
How much longer? The shaking was lessening now, he could feel it.
"George, pull his jaw. Open his mouth! Quick!"
George looked in horror at what his friend was doing, and equal horror at the boy's leg that was dark red with blood and sticking out at a bad angle.
"Oh God."
"Do it George! Quick!"
George swallowed and pulled on the jaw. It was tight, but it did move and as he pulled, Jethro's mouth opened.
Toby pushed the flare gun into the mouth and began to squeeze the trigger.
Jethro's eyes snapped open, and at once he was alive to the situation. Hands came up to grab Toby.
There was a bang, the cabin filled with smoke.
Jethro's hands froze from where they were just about to grab Toby's arm and his neck, and his face lit up as the flare burned inside him. Smoke was pouring from his mouth and nose, and now his ears too. He began to jerk violently and then he just went limp.
Smoke kept pouring from him, and soon the boys were choking, unable to see.
But the flight of the spaceship had become smooth now – and they were not falling out of the sky.
Toby felt relief, but now the insistent and terrible agony of his leg was demanding attention instead.
He slipped to the floor and screamed his agony as the spaceship completed its landing sequence, touching down gently using some kind of vertical landing engines on the surface of some unknown planet a long long way from home.
Chapter 26
Epilogue
With the ship landed, all the restraints had come off, and the hatch had opened itself, perhaps as a response to the smoke in the cabin, which now vented into a cool breeze. The air smelled odd but fresh, and the first sound the boys heard was the roar of the ocean and the breeze rustling the trees. The sounds were louder than they had been in camp, so even though they were familiar, it somehow seemed more real.
The pressing concern, of course, was immobilising Toby's leg. Shane found a first aid kit and both boys put their scout first aid training into practice, although a heated debate arose.
"You have to keep it still," George insisted. "It can be dangerous to move it."
"And what then, brainbox? Wait for the paramedics?"
George could not argue, but he did not know what else to do. Instead he went on the attack.
"Well what kind of stupid plan was it to kill the only adult who could help us?"
"He was not an adult. He was an android. And didn't you listen to anything? He wanted to make you a sex slave for a bunch of horny boys, led by Karl." Toby spoke louder than he intended, the pain making him aggressive and defensive of his actions. "Did you want to be Karl's slut the rest of your life?"
"But what do we do now?" George said, his voice high and cracking. "I mean, we can't live here on our own!"
"Why the fuck not? Isn't that exactly what we were supposed to do?
The question was, thought George, where here actually was.
What was on this planet? They were being taken here, so surely there had to be enough here to get by. George climbed out of the hatchway to take a look. And then he whistled.
It was the camp, just like they had left. All the tents were laid out, and there was the forest, planted with the same trees, and there was the sea, only this island was not alone now. He could see other islands along the horizon, and in the distance, dotted clouds perhaps showing many more.
How had he not noticed how unreal the horizon had looked in the old camp. It was like waking up from a dream.
If this was camp, George knew exactly where to find the first aid tent. He walked over to it and entered, finding boxes and boxes of medical supplies of every kind. He left the tent and looked at the storage shelter. Rather than a simple shelter over a diminishing pile of supplies, he now found a store room filled with boxes of foods.
There were also fishing nets and rods, which presumably meant there were fish here too. But how?
This place looked too much like Earth. How could this all be here on an alien planet?
Looking out to sea, George could see a line where the light blue turned darker. There was a reef out there, that surrounded the island. The nearest island beyond the reef was visible too, and the vegetation there was not the same at all. It had a bluer tinge, and was mostly shrubbery – no trees. Beyond this island then, perhaps things were more alien.
But here was familiar enough. He went back to tell the others.
When he entered the cabin, he saw the burned out twisted mix of plastic and metal and something like real skin that had been Jethro's head hanging over his limp body. He saw Toby lying on the floor, looking ill. But what worried him most was the sight of Shane also looking unwell.
"It must be the nanobots 3; maybe they have not kicked in yet!"
George sat down by his friends, pulling his legs up, sucking on his bare knee. He was terrified. What would happen if the nanobots had not taken at all? What would happen if he was left alone here without them?
But ever so slowly both boys did seem to recover and as George waited anxiously, hugging his knees, their colour returned and Shane, at least, looked healthy once more. George told them about the camp.
And so Shane and George found splints in the medical tent and they did their best to set Toby's leg. The boy screamed with agony as they did it, but he insisted it had to be done. George was nearly sick, but somehow they managed to straighten the leg and splint it, and then very carefully they lifted the boy out of the spaceship and into a tent.
That night was a hard one, and none of them slept much, lost in thoughts of family they could never see, a home that was lost, and a future that seemed very uncertain, as well as worry for Toby and his leg, but the next day the camp routine took over. They went fishing, and there were indeed fish in the sea. Fish like they had on camp, earth fish, although not just earth fish. They also caught something that looked a bit like a cross between a prawn and a snail.
It was several days before they tried eating the snail thing, but when they did, they found it was actually edible. It sadly did not taste like chicken, but the taste was not too bad when you were hungry.
Toby, for his part, got better extremely quickly. A week later he was walking around, albeit with a limp.
"I think they enhanced us somehow. Maybe it's the nanobots, or maybe its something else. Maybe all people were like this sometime after we remember being alive on Earth. Maybe humans modified themselves."
It was all ifs, buts and maybes. Maybe there was some kind of barrier that stopped the Earth fish swimming beyond the reef. Maybe there was a large landmass nearby that would dwarf this archipelago. Maybe there were more than the two moons they had already seen. Maybe there was another android in orbit who was preparing to come down and do something terrible for their attack on this one – Jethro had kept saying 'we' after all. Maybe without Jethro, anarchy was descending on the orbiting camp, maybe someone had got enough sense to lynch Karl and cut his balls off. Maybe this was the only landing spaceship and maybe there were more. What was on the other biodome they had seen? Would there ever be any other communication from Earth? What had even become of Earth?
But for now George and Toby were together, and they were happy. They slept in a tent together, and each night George used his body just like a bandage, and Toby used his body just like a wound. The days were filled with a new kind of joy, and the nights with ecstasy.
Shane, for his part, was happy enough. The three of them lived for the moment, giggling over bad jokes, or enjoying moments of discovery. Shane was something of a loner, and in any case, he had found a nice fresh girl scout uniform, and had declared that he was doing away with Earth based conventions and gender stereotypes. They all giggled about that, but for George it helped too. In time he took to wearing what Shane wore, at least some of the time.
Toby never quite lost his limp. They supposed they had set the bones badly, but he could walk well enough, and it only ached when it rained.
The first day it rained, the boys stripped their clothes of and ran out into it, giggling with glee.
"You know," George said, "I never noticed before. It never actually rained in camp, did it."
The others looked thoughtful. How many other clues had they just overlooked that camp was not all it had seemed? It seemed unbelievable now that they could mistake the real thing for the artificial one – but then, that was where they had grown up, even if they could not remember it.
Toby took George into his arms, and squeezed the naked boy – or girl – or whatever he had become now. It did not matter, now they were together. He pressed his lips to George's and George kissed back, as water from the sky washed their naked skin, Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden, alone 3;
Shane coughed.
"Excuse me, lovebirds, less of that in public please."
Well almost alone.
And they all giggled happily.