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"What did I say about that? What did you promise me? Hmm? Promised!"
Gareth blushed but didn't look away from the justifiably pissed off face of the only person who had ever truly loved him. Yes, he'd promised. But he'd been talking to Jubo on WhatsApp, just normal shit, then his friend in Portugal had mentioned Flock and Shotcaller and Gareth hadn't recognized either. Zeus had been out getting a piece of hardware from Mark and he'd been too curious and then he'd been too mad to notice the time.
"I'm sorry. I was on my phone chatting and...aw shit. You taking my phone now too?"
"If it's leading you to break promises you made to me? Yes!" Zeus said and it was the disappointment, not the anger he saw, that hurt (bad) and shut off his protest. "Who were you talking to? Clearly not Dibs or Bonnie."
"Who?"
"Is your medication affecting your short term memory?"
"I don't think so. Why am I supposed to recognize those names?"
"They were on that secure-link conca last Tuesday!" Zeus said as he shut down the computer. The fans kept running so Gareth would have been screwed even if he'd heard the front door. "I told you that they're working on corrupting the surveillance databases and..."
"Zeus?"
"What?"
"I was at the Sleep Center last Tuesday." Gareth said and didn't feel outrage. Just embarrassed. He hated being contradictory. "You took me from my morning session to my afternoon session then dropped me off there at six."
"That was Tuesday?"
"Yeah."
"Shit. Well...you still broke your promise."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Curiosity is acceptable. Hacking is not! Ah...damn. Okay. Well where are you running the shadow proxy through?"
"A dark web server in Dubai."
Zeus sighed and then took Gareth by the hand and drew him into the living room. The evening sky was beautiful but not as beautiful as Zeus. It could never be as beautiful as the man who loved him so much that anger could be quickly set aside to allow for explanation. He felt that now familiar ache. Of loving another so much that it took a very deliberate and continuous effort to believe that he could be allowed to love. All of his shadows slid away in the light of that love. He must be worth something to be loved by someone so beautiful and spectacular.
"Make your case." Zeus said as they sat down side by side on the sofa. The physical contact was another gift. His lover anchoring him. "I'm not going to agree. You know that I can't. But tell me why."
"Just how much police surveillance are we under? Not just us. All of us?" Gareth plunged straight in and glanced at his wristband. Three lines. Yes. He'd taken all of his meds. "Predictive crime? Crime data centers? Füsus? Plate readers and microphones and facial recognition integrated cameras and cell-site simulators?"
"That's the biggest chunk, yes. Beyond online and cell activity monitoring protocols and snooper and flagging systems run by the NSA." Zeus said and held onto Gareth's hand. "Privacy is nonexistent. Well, that's provided the systems ACTUALLY work."
"This is the part I missed, huh?"
"Yes. But then again I don't know why I thought you were listening. I wouldn't have let you. You don't need this stress." Zeus said softly and drew Gareth's eyes to his. The love there immediately, as it always did, closed off any anger. Or even irritation. "That kind of shit is exactly why I work with Mark. It's the kind of thing he's best at. Figuring out ways to make the system fuck itself."
"That shit is wrong! Why is it even fucking allowed!"
"You know how the government utilizes fear to manipulate public opinion. Inflate or just fabricate crime statistics. Then pretend what they're doing is all in the best interests of the public." Zeus said and it wasn't nearly as frightening (or infuriating) to hear these things when they were said in Zeus' voice. "They keep pushing people back from that line. That line that shouldn't be crossed. You know it. What they have everyone saying."
"You don't have anything to worry about if you're not doing anything wrong."
"And considering just how much laws have changed, isn't that a ridiculous thing to believe?"
"Yes. So tell me what the hats are doing."
"Flock? The company you were looking up? They have a 35% error rate. Facial recognition tech is showing a racial bias and major flaws. Police departments have been exposed abusing Füsus. Shotcaller not only has a 95% false reading rate, police agencies relying on it are being exposed for their incompetence at dealing with actual crime. If the eavesdroppers are so good, how do narco cartels still exist? Do you think it's all coincidence?"
"That's a lot of fucking hacking."
"You can't expect public outrage to actually effect policy now, can you?" Zeus said and grinned before he leaned over to kiss Gareth's cheek. "Mark and his cohort love wrecking techbro dreams. Sure some of these hackers only do it because they hate techbros. Not because they care about the public. But the result is the same."
"New shit keeps coming out and getting adopted though."
"Greed is a fundamental part of the American Dream. 'And Justice For All' is just a Metallica album."
"Who's that? Have I heard of them?"
"Apparently not." Zeus said and kissed Gareth again. The sensations were as strong as his meds when it came to balancing him out. "Nobody wants data centers but they keep getting built. A.I. will never be what they're promising but if they can get people to accept the shit it generates as acceptable? Rich people get richer. But you know what no amount of surveillance will ever see?"
"How much you love me."
"You do listen sometimes."
"It's a good thing Artie likes me or I'd think you were crazier than me."
"Artie doesn't like you. He loves you. Now let's make dinner."
.
"I'm glad we both like Gorillaz."
"It's good sex music."
"I've never..."
"Been with someone who like music on during sex."
"It doesn't scare me."
"What, love?"
"Having you know me so well." Gareth said and touched the source of his faith and hope. Let himself feel the truth. "I feel safe here. With you. Knowing me. Loving me. Letting me love you. I actually feel safe."
"This is why I exist." Zeus said and his eyes were all Gareth could see and all that he wanted to see. "My whole life has been waiting to start. Now that you're here it finally has."
"Artie loves me?"
"Absolutely."
"Well I guess you aren't crazy then." Gareth said and they smiled together.
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Pro-tip: If you've been towed to a dealer, always assume you're going to be at the hotel multiple days and pack accordingly. If your truck is in the shop you might have no access to it.
"Now I've become the rat, in experiments that I invent and I put myself through. I can't explain the process in my brain, all I say comes out the same, like white noise..."
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"It means yer awful at pillowtalk. Sweat ain't dry an' yer already back ta pickun' yerself apart! Oh stop tha hurt puppy eyes! Jes ask! No! Ya started it. Ask!"
"Alright. Okay." Rob said and maintained incredibly awkward and uncomfortable eye contact with his lover. "You went to prison rather than fight in a war you didn't believe in. But I went to war without really caring why because I was bored. How can you stand me?"
"The answer's really fuckin' simple! If ya actually listen. So are ya listenin'?"
"Yes." Rob said and nodded slightly. "I'm listening."
"Good. Cuz here's the answer." Norman said and looked very serious but not aggravated or irritated. "Propoganda. It's got better."
"What? Propoganda?"
"Yup. Babe, whatcha think the government line is? It's jes enough truth to seem reasonable, but they don't never tell ya everything. An' that message has layers." Norman said and kept Rob tightly in his embrace. "Ya know about hippies, right? Well, '60's was different. There was civil rights and anti-war an' we had Seeger an' Dylan an' Baez singing ta us. Telling us ta not trust the government or the suits. Government was shady as shit. They killed Kennedy an' suddenly nothing feels safe or certain. An' me? I din't belong already. It was illegal for me ta have sex."
"Why do you say the propoganda is better now?"
"They rebuilt the whole rah rah America thing, babe. And when 9/11 happened I knew they was gonna take that shit an' run with it. Hard. Don't give me that look. I know it was terrorists. Al Qaeda and bin Laden. But where's he from?"
"What? Saudi Arabia. But..."
"What was y'all chasin' in Iraq? WMD that never existed. Why Afghanistan? Cuz'n Al Qaeda was there? Babe, there was plenty of terrorism back in the '70's. Especially in Europe. But nobody went invading Libya or Russia or the U.S. fer training an' harboring terrorists. War on Terror. Increase surveillance, give the NSA free reign trust cops and FBI like they can't do a wrong. Gots ta give up yer privacy if ya want security. So much bullshit noise and nobody standin' above it all ta say hey, quit lettin' 'em tell ya what ya should be afraid of an' pay attention!"
"That's a fair point."
"Babe. When I was a kid that TV show 'Dragnet' came out and only right wing freaks an' parents watched it. We knew better than ta trust pigs. Now tween shows an' movies they turned cops to heroes even though they're more brutal an' corrupt than ever."
"I gotta admit I don't feel too protected when they're around."
"I think my life would have been far better if you were my dad."
"They turned 9/11 into another Pearl Harbor, but Pearl Harbor was done by a country that declared war on us." Norman said as he reached for his cigarettes. "I had uncles that rushed out ta join the Army two days after Pearl Harbor. So I get tha pull. An' yeah you were already in, but I know that society an' culture carry weight. I mean, fuck. All them hippies who didn't trust tha suits put on suits and became yuppies. Times change. The more they twist around tha truth tha harder it gets ta say what's right."
"Incest is illegal an' I'm gay."
"Would it still be incest if I was adopted?"
"Well, yer back ta bein' weird." Norman said as he lit Rob's smoke. "I reckon that's an improvement. Mostly."
.
"Nyla agrees with me. They think you look like Nick Cave too. Circa 'Wings of Desire'. I think they nailed that."
"Who? Where...?" Rob muttered and looked around in almost total confusion. Ronnie had taken the two couples up to Kansas City to a party. An LGBTQ party. Rob was way out of his element. "Are you talking about...you say they but I only see one person. Is that Nyla?
"Bro, Nyla is they/them."
"What does that mean? And is that a guy or a woman?"
"My brother. You're old, but you can't be THAT out of it! You aren't a boomer!" Colt said and examined Rob careful. "Are you trolling me?"
"I don't know. What does that mean?"
"Oh fuck off!"
"I'm serious! Dude, I don't understand ANYTHING you're saying!'
"Brother, you grew up with the internet!"
"Dude, I graduated in 2000. My family never had a home computer. Then I went in the Air Force and then became an addict!" Rob said in an intense and rapid mutter. "I've never even owned a smart phone! If I had enough money for one of those I'd have bought meth instead! My ex-wife tried to get me into Facebook but I just wanted nothing to do with that shit! And I've only been gay for six months! Pretend I actually don't know anything!"
"Wow. Really? Okay. But...wow. That's just...wow." Colt said and erased the crush Rob had on him with a shake of the head. "Okay. Uhh...pronouns. There's he/him, she/her, and they/them. Nyla is non-binary. Gender fluid. They don't identify as male or female. And before you ask it's not the same as trans."
"Oh. Okay. But, uh, how do you know...would sh...would they be upset if I said the wrong words?"
"Only if you were told the pronouns and refused to use them." Colt said and gave Rob another searching look. "How old are you?"
"I'm thirty-nine."
"Wow. No shade bro, but even my grandad knows about pronouns . Then again he's got four LGBTQ+ grandkids and he's pretty cool."
Cool. That was something Rob Berry was not. He didn't even know what the current parameters of cool were. He had tweaked his way right out of popular culture and society and it had left him behind.
Hell. He didn't even know if looking like Nick Cave was even a good thing. He'd have to look into that eventually.
.
Rob Berry sat on a bus stop bench trying to think of famous gay people. Elton John. Definitely. Ian McKelland. Very much so. Who was that artist? Andy Warhol. That sounded right. Ellen Degeneres. Hmm. Were women gay? Didn't they call themselves lesbians? Rock Hudson. For sure, but he'd stayed closeted until he couldn't. Who else? Probably every actor on Broadway but he had no idea who any of them were.
He couldn't search online because he had no computer and he didn't know where the public library was. Damn. There had to be plenty more famous gays, but he couldn't think of any. There had to be other actors and musicians. He just didn't know names. Just like all those figure skaters and fashion designers. Weren't they all gay? But who were they? In the Air Force he'd been stationed in Japan and Italy. He hadn't watched much television at either.
He was trying to think of gays who were out and successful and accepted so that he didn't feel so isolated and didn't feel like such a freak and it wasn't working. It was 2019 and, Trump notwithstanding, being gay wasn't some socially taboo violation of decency. He needed to come up with famous gays to offset the homophobia that felt like it was so prevalent in Wichita. Being famous while being openly gay was a sign that the world at large had tolerance. Somewhat. Because it felt wrong to accept that he was gay only when he was at home with Norman.
He didn't have to march around waving a pride flag but he should be able to go out in public and not feel anxious about somebody realizing he was gay. It was 2019. He shouldn't be feeling ashamed.
Then again he'd spent well over a decade being ashamed of himself for being an addict. Confidence, let alone pride, did not come easy to him.
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