The Last Photograph
by Wrestlr
12.
The next morning, Mick appeared in the barracks doorway with our daily gear. I’d just finished my shower and shaving. I was still trying to work through my head how we’d gotten from the helicopter back to our barracks and out of our gear because the last thing I’d known I was having one hell of a high, better than a hundred orgasms, in the helicopter as we took off, and then I was waking up in my rack, naked under my sheet like usual.
He yawped, “You, Soldier! In the hallway, now!”
We were all Soldier, but Mick was pointing to me. I didn’t wait to get dressed. Like I said, I’m not plagued by modesty. I followed him into the hallway.
He opened the door across the hall from the barracks room. “The Leader was impressed with the job you did last night. You earned a special privilege. You got five minutes.”
I walked into the room, and he shut the door behind me.
“Petey!” a familiar man said. But who was Petey?
Wait—I was Petey to someone, long ago, in another life. Only one person called me that. “Paul?”
“Yeah, bro, it’s me.”
He stood off to one side—I hadn’t seen him when I first walked in. He approached quickly and hugged me. I knew what I was supposed to do and hugged him back. He was just as naked as I was, but neither of us seemed to care. At least I didn’t.
“They told me you did a good job yesterday. That’s why they said I could see you. Look at you!” He touched the gold metal around my forehead. By now, my hair had grown back to its usual military length and obscured the part of the band that ran around the sides and back of my skull. “Look at you, bro—you got yourself haloed! I thought they only did that to fuck-ups. What’d you do to deserve that?”
I tried to remember. I said, “Tried to escape.” I didn’t say, Let your best friend swing on my johnson in a metal cage.
He walked over to some crates and sat down. I followed him and sat too,
“Why the fuck would you wanna escape, bro? This place is great—I love it here.”
“Wanted ...” Why had I tried to escape? So hard to remember. “... To find you, get you out of here.”
He grinned at me like I was mentally deficient. “But I don’t wanna leave. Why would anybody wanna leave? You sound like Justin and Angel. You remember my buds Justin and Angel, don’t you?”
Yes, I thought, they’re across the hall with haloes implanted in their heads. But I couldn’t say it. I nodded.
“Angel tried to escape. Justin too. I heard they got haloed too, right? Is it true what they say, the haloes do a group-mind thing?”
I nodded again, to both parts of what he asked.
“That must be so cool. Can I try it?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t come off. It’s permanent.”
“Man, all they ever used on me was the subliminals. I fought it some at first, but everything got a lot better when I learned to just let it happen. I can’t imagine how much cooler the haloes must be. I’m jealous, bro!”
Don’t be, I thought.
“Look at you, bro—you’re like some fucking super-soldier now. You’re all crazy-ripped and shit. You look damn good.”
“You look good too.” Which was true; he’d put on some muscle, gotten some definition, and it looked good on him.
“Thanks, bro!” He flexed a bicep. “They started out teaching me all this stuff about sex and how to seduce people. Now they’re teaching me all this assassination shit. It’s so fucking cool! They want me to be able to get close to people and either get with them or get them out of the way. They tell me I’m just about ready for field assignments—I can’t wait! It’s been a crazy six months!”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about Paul being trained as a seducer or an assassin, but I latched onto the second part. If he had been here six months, that meant I’d been here five months. That seemed concrete, a knowable fact. I turned it over in my head. Five months ago ... Maybe I could use that fact as a wedge to open up more memories of my life before this place, this team of Soldiers. I felt like I should have more memories, that Paul should feel more important to me.
“You got a big dick, bro,” he said, apropos of nothing, staring at my crotch. He grinned lopsided at me. “Is it as big as mine? Wanna see which one of us is bigger?” He reached for my cock. “Want me to show you how much I’ve learned?”
I grabbed his wrist. “No.”
“Why not? Get it hard, bro. I wanna see who’s bigger. C’mon. I’ll make you feel real good. I always get top marks in my group at pleasuring.”
Active mode, whispered the voice in my head, and the world dropped away.
I stood up. Our time’s up, I wanted to say but couldn’t. Paul and any memories of him were drowned in the mission focus and the return of the shared perceptions from the other six Soldiers.
“Oh,” Paul said. “The halo thing, right?”
But I was already walking back to the barracks to gear up and begin my day.