Brave New Worlds

doing on that train?"
    "Same thing I was. He got pulled in by mistake. "
    Lou looked at me with a kind of blank pity. Then he looked down at the ground. "there are no mistakes, Rich. They've got the police files. "
    "Then what was I doing on the train?"
    Lou looked back up at me and sighed. "I think you probably got some of the women very angry with you. There's a lot of infighting, particularly where gay men fit in. I don't like it. It's why I got you out. It may be something similar with Royce. "
    "On the train because I disagreed with them?" Everything felt weak, my knees, my stomach.
    "It's possible, only possible. This is a revolution, Rich. Things are pretty fluid. "
    "Oh God, Lou, what's happening?"
    "You see why we have to be careful? People have been burned in this station, Rich. Not lately, because I've been in charge. And I intend to stay in charge. Look. "
    Lou took me in his arms. "this must be really terrible for you, I know. All of us were really happy for you, when you and Royce started. But we have to protect ourselves. Now let's just go back in, and ask Royce who and what he is. "
    "What do you mean?"
    "Just ask him. In front of the others. What he was. And not take no for an answer. " He was stroking my hair.
    "He'll hate me if I do that!" I tried to push him away. He grabbed hold of my hair, and pulled it, smiling, almost as if he were still being sexy and affectionate.
    "Then he'll just have to get over that kind of mentality. What has he got to hide if he needs privacy? Come on, Rich. Let's just get it over with. " He pulled me back, into the waiting room.
    Royce took one look at us together as we came in, and his face went still, as if to say, "Uh-huh. This is coming now, is it? “His eyes looked hard into mine, and said, "Are you going to put up with it?" I was ashamed. I was powerless.
    "Rich has a confession to make," said Lou, a friendly hand still on the back of my neck. "Don't you, Rich?"
    They all seemed to sit up and close in, an inquisition, and I stood there thinking, Dear God, what do I do? What do I do?
    "Rich," Lou reminded me. "We have to go through this. We need to talk this through. "
    Royce sat there, on our bed, reclining, waiting.
    Well, I had lied. "I don't really know who Royce is. We weren't lovers before. We are lovers now. "
    "But you don't know what he was doing, or who he was, do you, Rich?"
    I just shook my head.
    "Don't you want to know that, Rich? Don't you want to know who your lover was? Doesn't it seem strange to you that he's never told you?"
    "No," I replied. "We all did what we had to do before the revolution. What we did back then is not who we are. " See, I wanted to say to Royce, I'm fighting, see I'm fighting.
    "But there are different ways of knuckling under, aren't there, Rich? You taught history. You showed people where the old system had gone wrong. You were a good, gay man. "
    Royce stood up, abruptly, and said, "I was a prison guard. "
    The room went cold and Lou's eyes gleamed.
    "And there are different ways of being a prison guard. It was a detention center for juveniles, young guys who might have had a chance. Not surprisingly, most of them were black. I don't suppose you know what happens to black juvenile prisoners now, do you? I'd like to know. "
    "Their records are looked at," said Lou. "So. You were a gay prison guard in charge of young men. "
    "Is that so impossible?"
    "So, you were a closet case for a start. "
    "No. I told my immediate superior. "
    "Immediate superior. You went along with the hierarchy. Patriarchy, I should say. Did you have a good time with the boys?"
    "This camp is a hierarchy, in case you hadn't noticed. And no, I kept my hands off the boys. I was there to help them, not make things worse. "
    "Helping them to be gay would be worse?" Every word was a trap door that could fall open. The latch was hatred. "Did you ever beat one of the boys up? Did you deal dope on the side?"
    Royce was still for a moment, his eyes narrow. Then he spoke.
    "About four years ago, me and the kids put on a show. We put on a show for the girls' center. The girls came in a bus, and they'd all put their hair in ringlets, and they walked into the gym with too much make-up on, holding each other's hands, clutching each other's forearms, like this, because they were so nervous. And the kids, the boys, they'd been rehearsing, oh, for weeks. They'd built and painted a set. It was a street, with lights in the windows, and a big yellow moon. There was