Chapter One Hundred and Three
Vignir had his congratulations to offer, and his commiserations to offer on the subject of the lives that were lost. “There is no longer any need for you to remain at this place,” came his voice from the Purity Rod. “I would suggest that for your own sanity you leave. Next week the one-on-one pseudopsychology begins.” “I can’t leave,” I said, “I made a promise.” That night, I told Gluttus and Unit 42 about everything. We talked for several hours. Unit 42 simply said that it was its time now that the Indigo Orb was in a human’s possession, and that in eight days it could finally self-destruct. Gluttus seemed much sadder, though. We hugged. “I’ll really miss you, Jasper,” he said. “Ever since I was first created, there was never anyone who was actually nice to me... and you’ve been the first! I don’t want to turn into a pile of dust and leave you behind!” “I’ll come and visit you every night,” I said. “You said the same thing to Michael,” Gluttus said. “When you had first started dating. You never did, though...” ...sometimes it freaked me out knowing that those two had all of my memories, too. Monday was a very chaotic day at Camp Tumah, with everyone having been allocated two-hour sessions with a “psychologist”. The sessions started at 9AM and ended at 7PM, with each “psychologist” managing four sessions for four separate men in that time. This was the week that the bulk of that $10,000 went towards, I assumed. In between sessions you were expected to either quietly reflect or to watch a continuously looping film in the lecture theatre about what factors in our upbringing had “made” us homosexual. That day’s topic was not being particularly good at sport before reaching adolescence. My Purity Rod began to vibrate as I was having lunch, so I quickly walked to safe place where I couldn’t be seen. “Something very interesting has come up,” came Vignir’s voice. “We may not be done with you yet... in fact, if Michelle’s theory is correct, everything her and I have worked for, all of our combined efforts, may come down to what happens next and you could very well be at the centre of it. It may well be you who is the key to everything.” “What? There’s even more that I’m expected to do?” I asked. “You have an appointment with a so-called psychologist scheduled for 5PM,” Vignir explained. “You will learn more then. Vignir, out.” He had always been an expert at vagueness.