Nineteen

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Marine Boy's struggles grew feeble. He still fought, however, and Jack could tell that he would do so to the last. Jack could only admire his friend's spirit, and tried to think of a way he could tell him that, even at the last, in spite of everything. He bent forwards to whisper in Marine Boy's ear, but then had a better idea. Even as it struck him, he knew that it would seem bizarre – even twisted – to anyone else, but at the same time he knew it was right. He reached down with his free hand to cup the bulge in Marine Boy's suit, and began to rub him gently.

Though his own arousal had vanished (indeed, he felt as though his testicles had positively shrivelled) Jack was surprised to find that Marine Boy was still as hard as steel. It seemed to Jack that at least part of his young victim's struggles were a frenzied reaction to this latest stimulus. Jack rubbed harder. Though Marine Boy's struggles were getting feebler and feebler, his hips still jerked, and seemed to chime with Jack's rhythm.

Marine Boy knew he was fading, possibly dying. Even if the fumes from the drugged cloth were only designed to induce unconsciousness, it seemed unlikely that he would wake up at liberty, if indeed he was permitted to wake up at all. Thoughts cascaded through his head, but he was unable to focus on a single one. His world had become too small to contain any of them.

His body, too, was drifting away. He no longer had arms or legs or hands or feet – nor eyes nor ears, nor heart nor guts. Only two parts of him remained – his lungs, which were the source of agony, and his groin, which was being stimulated by some unknown but pleasurable force. Pleasure or pain – never a difficult choice. He channelled his remaining consciousness towards his groin and the feeling that was growing there. The last thought that flashed through his mind was a disembodied question: was it possible to cum in one's pants? He felt as though he was about to experience the definitive answer to this question, when there was a blinding flash of white light in his brain. Then there was nothing.

Jack felt Marine Boy's struggles weaken, lessen and finally cease. He kept the cloth pressed over his mouth and nose for a few more seconds, before withdrawing it and stepping back. He tried to read the expression on Marine Boy's face – was it anger? Fear? Hatred? Jack couldn't tell. Perhaps mercifully, Marine Boy's eyes had closed at the last moment.

Jack let his tears flow freely. He thought of whispering something in Marine Boy's ear, but was suddenly alarmed by his total lifelessness. Had he gone too far? Panicked, he placed a finger on the younger boy's neck, and was relieved to feel a pulse, faint but regular. He let out a long breath then, hating himself for his hypocrisy yet unable to resist, kissed Marine Boy tenderly on the forehead.

He pondered his next move, but realised that he'd long passed the point of no return. He reached for his belt and opened a second hollow weight, inside which was a miniature transmitter. He extended the aerial and pushed the button. He was about to sit down and wait, when a thought occurred to him. He fished in Marine Boy's belt and extracted two cubes of oxy-gum. He looked at them closely, sniffed them, tasted them with the tip of his tongue. They were odourless, tasteless and unremarkable, yet reputedly worth a small fortune if offered to the right person. He rebelled at that thought, then decided that he was taking them as a memento of the friend he'd betrayed. He stowed them in one of his hollow weights, and buckled the belt round his waist. Then he waited.

***

After about twenty minutes, the water in front of him began to churn and bubble, and a submersible broke surface. Hatches opened and men appeared to moor it by the dock. There was a pause and then a bearded man appeared. He wore no uniform, but his presence radiated authority, and a lack of tolerance for those who failed to recognise it.

He shot a glance at Jack. "Got him?" he asked.

"See for yourself. He's unconscious. Been under for nearly half an hour. The dope worked like a charm."

"Took your time, didn't you?"

Jack's voice took on a nervous tone. "I'm ahead of schedule, aren't I? Forty-eight hours, you said, and it's been less than that. Frankly, I call it fast work – trick myself on board, win his trust, lure him here, and all in less time than..."

Jack tailed off – the bearded man was clearly in no mood for lengthy justifications. He stepped onto the dock and stared hard at the limp figure of Marine Boy. He grunted, which may have indicated that he was satisfied with Jack's work. "Saunders," he called without looking round, "check him out. The rest of you get this place open."

The man called Saunders walked over. Jack saw that he was some sort of doctor, as he produced a stethoscope and listened to Marine Boy's heart and lungs. He took his pulse, then opened one of his eyes and shone a small torch at it.

"Well?" the bearded man asked.

"He's alive," Saunders said, "and undamaged as far as I can see. He should start to come round in an hour or so, though you won't get anything coherent out of him for two or three of hours after that. At least"

The bearded gave a curt nod. "Get him inside. Help him, boy. Secure him, then bring me all his toys."

From the rear of the cavern came a low rumbling sound. Jack turned. Although he'd known what to expect, he still gasped with surprise. A section of the rock wall slid to one side, revealing a steel door, which one of the crew opened, keying in a security code to do so. Underwater, Jack knew, another piece of natural-looking rock was rising into place to block the entrance tunnel and make it seem like a natural cave.

"Pay attention, boy."

Jack gave a start. Saunders was talking to him. "Sorry?" he asked.

"I said take his legs. Look lively. You may not have realised that the man who pays us expects to be obeyed at the double, but I'm no such fool."

Jack saw that Saunders had cut Marine Boy down, and was holding his limp form under the armpits. Jack did as he was told, and together they carried their captive through the steel door. This gave onto a large airlock, which allowed the inner base to maintain a normal atmospheric pressure. The airlock sealed, and a hum indicated that some of the air was being withdrawn. Jack felt his ears pop again, and thought he saw Marine Boy's body twitch in an unconscious reaction to the change. For a moment he entertained the wild hope that Marine Boy was only feigning unconsciousness, and would leap to the attack at any second, but he soon saw that it was not so.

Once the pressure had been equalised, the inner door opened, and Jack helped Saunders carry Marine Boy along several well-lit corridors, turning here and there, and ascending two flights of stairs. In spite of himself, Jack was awed by what he saw. He'd never been inside the base before, and was astonished at how extensive it appeared to be. It seemed to him that a huge proportion of the undersea hill must have been hollowed out. He wondered how long it had taken and how much it had cost. He also wondered what its purpose was – though on this point he expected to remain in the dark. Those who'd recruited him hadn't seen fit to explain themselves, and he didn't think they'd take kindly to questions.

At length they came to a small, brightly-lit room. It had the air of being a combined sick-bay and laboratory. He and Saunders deposited Marine Boy's body on what looked like a hospital trolley.

Saunders looked at Jack. "Scram, kid," he said. "Make yourself scarce."

Jack did.

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