Jake Sisko Chronicles

Author's note. This is the third part of the three-part sequel "Of Chance, Destiny and Choice". At the end of Part Two, Jake Sisko and the two current loves of his life, the Dorvanian called Chilam (and formerly known as Wesley Crusher) and Jake's bonded brother, the Klingon Gowran, were investigating the rumour of Cardassians looting in the Chi-pan ruins. As Chilam approached the Cardassian camp from the right and Gowran from the left, Jake, from his vantage point on the canyon wall, is about to witness his two loves being killed by Cardassian snipers. Star Trek, The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and all characters from the series are trademarks of and copyright by Paramount Pictures Corporation. The other characters in this story other than Salene have been created by this author. The names of the Dorvanian Gods, what they represent, and their nature has been based on ancient Mayan religion. Special thanks to Richard of Colorado and to Nathan of http://members.aol.com/slashjake/jako.html for their assistance and support in writing Part Three. I hope you enjoy the conclusion of this story in the ongoing saga of Jake Sisko. Trek fans, Dorvanians, Maquis, Mayans, and gay men and boys of all ages can write to the author, Aardon Beta, c/o authorsix@hotmail.com where he has a subspace temporal portal link for communicating with the past when he is in transmission range with Earth.

Of Chance, Destiny and Choice

Part Three: Choice

Jake's cry of frustration ricocheted off the high walls of the narrow ravine. The Cardassian who had climbed the tree to get a better shot at Chilam was the first to respond to the cry, automatically swinging his weapon around and firing at what appeared to be the greater threat. Fortunately, for Jake, the Cardassian sniper was in a hurry and his aim was poor. The phasar struck low, blasting the rock overhang Jake was standing on.

"Fuck!" cried out the eighteen-year-old as he felt the rock give out from under him and he began to fall. "Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck," echoed the ravine above the background rumble of falling rock.

Jake tried his best to stay on his feet as he and what was left of the ledge slid into the canyon. That was impossible. Losing his balance, he dropped his weapon and rolling himself into a ball, he began to tumble and roll down the steep embankment. He heard more phasar blasts as he smashed into another overhang fifteen metres further down and stopped falling. The wind being knocked out of him, he lay there stunned and gasping for air. Part of his mind told him to get up and find out what was happening, or at least seek cover, the other part advised him that any movement was going to be painful and could draw the attention of the shooters to him. The sound of angry voices and lack of phasar fire prompted him to slowly lift up his body and glance down into the ravine. Below him stood Chilam and Gowran pointing their weapons at five Cardassian captives who had their hands raised in submission.

Slowly and gingerly getting to his feet, he cautiously picked his way down to the bottom of the ravine and painfully limped over to join his companions. His shirt and jeans were torn and coated with a film of rock dust, large patches of which were beginning to cake as the rock dust mixed with Jake's sweat and blood.

"Brilliant tactic," beamed Gowran, "truly brilliant!"

Jake was glad that the Klingon's hands were occupied or he would surely have slapped him on the back. Just breathing was painful.

"Yes," agreed Chilam. "Very wise choice."

Jake looked from one to the other. "What happened?"

"Well," said Chilam, taking the lead, "When the Cardassian who was going to fire at me fired at you instead, it gave me the opportunity to seek cover. When he turned to redirect his fire at me, or rather, where I had been, he was wide open. I was easily able to incapacitate him." He pointed to the injured Cardassian sitting on the ground, his arm being tied in a sling by a colleague.

"And the fellow on the roof who was about to fire at me," continued Gowran, "was momentarily distracted, allowing me time to see him." Jake looked around. "He is dead," Gowran said flatly. "Dead warriors carry no grudges."

"Hearing the noise and firing, the rest of the archaeology crew came out of the building they were digging in, and seeing what had happened, immediately surrendered," finished Chilam.

"They are scientists, not soldiers," said Gowran, with a hint of contempt.

After tying up their captives, Chilam saw to Jake's injuries, most of which were painful but superficial. Miraculously he had not broken any bones and had managed to avoid getting a concussion in his tumble. A couple badly bruised ribs, a large blue-black welt on his right hip, and assorted cuts and abrasions, mostly on his arms, legs and back, were easily taken care of by a poultice of local herbs to prevent infection and a foul tasting drink to kill the pain.

"I'm sorry," Chilam whispered in Jake's ear. "There is a much faster and far less painful way to take care of your injuries, but I cannot risk the Cardassians finding out about that."

Jake had no idea what Chilam meant. Making love to him made Jake feel wonderful, but even with the Soothsayer's skills in that area Jake doubted if Chilam would be able to make him forget his present pain. Besides, under the circumstances, it was not likely that Chilam had love making in mind. Jake had to smile. Despite his injuries his dick head itched at the thought of Chilam's caresses. Jake chuckled at its eagerness and immediately regretted it as his ribs protested. He made a note to ask Chilam what he meant later.

While Chilam and Gowran prepared a meal from the birds the injured Cardassian had caught and other supplies from the Cardassian camp, Jake rested in the shade and thought about what had happened. His two companions had commended him on his choice, which of course he modestly protested had simply been an impulsive act. Now that he had time to think about it, he wondered. Had his response and that of the two snipers been pure chance, or had it been destiny, part of an overall plan of the Gods? The decision to expose himself and scream out in frustration and anger had been a decision. He did recall thinking the thought a second before following through. Well, score one for Choice.

His companions had prepared far more food than they needed, upon Chilam's suggestion, and when they were done they set up the table to make it look as if the Cardassians had been interrupted during the middle of their meal and had just mysteriously disappeared. They made sure there were no signs of a struggle nor any traces of blood, and they did their best to camouflage the evidence of phasar blasts. Chilam's thinking was that if it appeared that the team had mysteriously disappeared without any signs of conflict, perhaps that would give the Cardassian leader who had come up with the plan to sell stolen artifacts to raise money for their war effort second thoughts about disturbing the ruins in the future.

They rested during the heat of the afternoon, and then began the long seven-hour hike back to the village. It was a painful journey for Jake, who was too proud to be carried or to receive any assistance. All the way back Gowran urged, cajoled, and when neither worked, finally demanded Jake write a song about their adventure. Trying to explain to Gowran that just because he planned on being a writer for a living it was not that simple, and then trying to come up with something that would satisfy the bullheaded Klingon when he wouldn't accept the first response, at least took Jake's mind off his injuries.

Their arrival back at the village late that night and news of their success were occasion for celebration the following evening after the heros had recovered. It seemed to Jake and his companions that these people lived from celebration to celebration, and in a sense they did. For one, that was part of their heritage. For another, when people are under oppression, they are eager to celebrate life every occasion they can. So, while the heros rested up, the rest of the village prepared for the celebration. That evening, dressed in their finest, the three were lead to their place of honour.

Chilam was first, accompanied by Swift Ocelot who walked a respectful step behind and carried a large fan of brilliant feathers resulting in a rainbow of colours. Chilam was resplendent in the ceremonial clothes of his position, a goldenrod coloured loin cloth and a similar coloured manta, a square of cloth which could be used both as a cloak or blanket. The colour complemented the twenty-three-year-old's rich brown tan, and the scant clothing revealed his smooth, young chest and his hairless, muscular arms and legs. The manta was woven of soft wool and was inscribed along the hem with black lettering and symbols which denoted his position. He wore sandals, gold anklets and arm bands, each studded with a single large emerald, and an intricate hair band of spun gold. Hanging from a hair-thin gold chain about his neck and resting in the centre of his smooth chest was a large turquoise gem that matched his deep blue eyes. His long, brown hair flowed down to his shoulders like wisps of silk and Jake ached to reach over and run his fingers through it. He looked gorgeous, and Jake's body ached for him even worse than it had ached after his tumble down the canyon.

Gowran was next, proudly dressed in his military uniform, the black leather freshly oiled and the metal studs so highly polished they glittered like jewels in the firelight. In concession to the heat, Gowran had forgone his shirt and padded leather vest in preference for a studded leather and chain noose harness and a studded collar. His naked, smooth chest rippled with Klingon muscle, and his tight black leather chaps showed off his strong, shapely thighs and calves. Jake noticed not a few women and an equal number of men eying the muscular teen hungrily. Good food and hard exercise had added muscle in all the right places.

Gowran's chaps were tucked into highly polished, metal tipped boots that extended half way up his thigh and whose tops were spiked with sharp metal spines. A fifteen-centimetre wide, studded, black leather belt with a huge steel-coloured buckle bearing the head of a fierce looking Klingon beast, and a barbed leather codpiece added to his ferocity and sexuality. Jake figured the contents of that codpiece had to be very hot, and memories of the scent of Gowran's animal sweat made him ache for a whiff of that studded jock. Jake smiled as he thought how popular his bonded brother would be in a San Francisco gay bar back in the 1990's. His cock twitched as he thought of the times they'd given themselves totally to their lust drive and had wild, savage sex, and his heart ached for the chance to do it again.

Jake came last, and he too had opted to go shirtless. He wore a rich burgundy-coloured silk vest which he had left unbuttoned, and several thin silver chains which were seductive in their simplicity. He had chosen open toed sandals and a pair of tight, white slacks that felt like chamois and which showed off his crotch and accented his dark skin, which Swift Ocelot had insisted he oil for this evening. Although not as muscular as Gowran, these past events had started to harden his body and had begun to add definition to his pecs and deltoids. Jake noticed that he too was attracting the attention of a number of individuals, male and female, and the looks in their eyes made it quite clear what they were thinking. That was not something he was accustomed to, and he found he was enjoying it.

The tables were laden with products of the field and forest, sweet yams and squash, roasted grouse, several types of baked fish, pots of brown beans, plates heaped with maize, stacks of fragrant, freshly baked wraps made of cornmeal, hot red and green peppers, fresh mangos, wooden jugs of a drink made from toasted maize and cocoa, and of course jugs of fermented honey. The aromas billowed up from the table and mingled to result in a delightful mix that caused mouths to water in anticipation and young boys to snatch tidbits before the official blessing of the food and the first offerings to the Gods.

As they began to eat, music was provided by a group of young men in loincloths with wooden drums, gourd trumpets, and bone whistles resulting in a unique and mystic sound that was like nothing Jake had ever heard. While the honoured guests ate and talked, their conversation turned to the events that had taken place most recently, and as they drank, they began to discuss the significance, and the causes, of those events.

"I still say what happened at Chi-pan was pure chance," argued Jake.

"It was not chance that we found the team at the site, or that we descended the ravine at noon," countered Chilam. "We had reliable information that the team was there, and our hike to the ruins was scheduled so we would arrive before the heat of the afternoon."

"No, of course that was not chance. Some things are planned."

"All things are planned," argued Chilam.

"I did not plan on taking a tumble down the ravine," Jake observed, "or bruising my ribs."

"You did not, but the Gods did," commented Gowran.

"Then what did I ever do to anger them?"

"I do not know," Gowran replied solemnly.

"I was joking."

"It is not proper to joke about the Gods," Gowran replied, glancing around as if he expected one of them to be sitting nearby listening in on their conversation.

"So, the two of you agree with the Bajorans," Jake commented. "Life is not just random chance. What happens is controlled, by gods, or by Prophets, or by whatever."

"Yes," both Gowran and Chilam answered instantly and with no doubt in their voices.

"So what is the point of life? What is the point of this resistance to the Cardassians? If everything is controlled by some superior being, why bother doing anything?"

"For the honour of our ancestors," announced Gowran predictably.

"When I say that our lives are planned, I mean Destiny decrees what will happen," Chilam tried explaining. "Destiny establishes the patterns. Because there is a pattern to all things, if we seek for that pattern and learn its nature when we find it, then we can act accordingly. That is why we do things. That is why we act."

"So our actions can actually account for something."

"Of course. Knowing our destiny, we can capitalize on it. We can act accordingly."

"The Gods act, but so does a warrior," added Gowran in support. "We can make our own destiny. There is a Klingon saying that a man is the product of his actions, so all actions should be honourable ones."

"Are all Klingons pragmatists?" Jake asked. Gowran looked at him quizzically. "For a pragmatist, the value and truth of an idea depends on its practical consequence. If there is no practical consequence, there is no value."

"Yes, then all Klingons are pragmatists," responded Gowran, confident in his sweeping generalization of his race, and probably right.

"So, if destiny gives you lemons, make lemonade. That is the limit of our control over life."

"Should there be more?"

"Suppose I don't like lemonade?"

"Then sell the lemons and buy a jug of IwHIq."

"Not everyone likes Klingon bloodwine either," smiled Jake.

"Then those are the ones the Gods have taken a dislike to."

Chilam and Jake laughed. Gowran did not see any humour in what he had said. His two friends being too choked up to explain, he shrugged, downed his mug of balche, a concoction of fermented honey and tree bark, and called for a refill. As they continued to eat and drink, the conversation turned to lighter topics between intermittent tales of past exploits and well-known legends recited by the storytellers of the village. Throughout the evening one or another of the villagers toasted the heros and more jugs of the fermented drink were brought out. After much encouragement and drinking, Jake was prompted to stand and sing the composition he had written about their adventure. Gowran and Chilam joined in for the chorus:

Venturing out in the hot jungle sun,

The Soothsayer, Warrior, and Writer,

With stalwart hearts each mother's son

Vowed to make the future brighter.

With sweat streaming from their brows,

And causing arms and chests to gleam,

To the people they kept their vows,

And advanced the Maquis dream.

Jake felt awkward with the applause that followed, and even more awkward with the praise being heaped upon him considering the role he had really played in the capture of the Cardassians. He felt unworthy of such adulation. Besides, he was shy by nature and unaccustomed to being the centre of attention. If that was not bad enough, he was further embarrassed by the references many made of the rejoicing that the three warriors would partake in later that night, and they left no doubt just how the three would celebrate. In part that was no surprise considering the nights Jake had spent either in Chilam's hut or with Gowran. In part it was also of Jake's own doing. The ballad was heavy with homoerotic images and detailed descriptions of the masculinity of the three adventurers. Back on DS9 where homosexuality was hidden or taboo, the references would largely have gone unnoticed. Here on Dorvan V, the imagery was much more likely to be recognized, and it was. Not everyone joined in the ribaldry. Jake could not help but notice the glances of the Bajorans, and the obvious condemnation in their eyes. He immediately thought of Nolar, and wondered what was happening to him. Life here under Cardassian occupation was hell, but his life back in a Bajoran institution for simply being himself had to be even worse.

Jake put those thoughts out of his mind. There was nothing he could do for Nolar at the moment, and nothing he could do about the Bajorans on Dorvan V. Both were definitely in Fate's hands. So, let those who objected think what they wanted, Jake reasoned. He would not let them ruin a wonderful evening.

Actually, although he was having a fantastic evening, there was one problem that was weighing on his mind more and more as the evening progressed. Torn between his love for Gowran and his love for Chilam, he did not know what he was going to do later that evening. He wanted very much to celebrate the conclusion of their adventure in true Klingon style with a rough and aggressive bout of lovemaking with Gowran, and he knew that Gowran was expecting no less from his bonded brother. However, he also wanted to celebrate with the tenderness and love that was Chilam's style, and as a revered leader among Jake's hosts, he knew the villagers expected it from him. He would have eagerly celebrated with both at the same time, but considering their different techniques and personalities, that hardly seemed feasible. Besides, for Gowran their lovemaking was not only a matter of ritual and honour, but something that was very personal between just the two of them. It was not something which could be extended to Chilam. As for Chilam, the Soothsayer was into intimate one-on-one relationships, relationships in which he gave a hundred percent of himself for the other, not group orgies. So Jake assumed from his experiences anyway. How was he to choose? He did not know at the time, but he need not have worried about the outcome of the evening. The three of them got too drunk to do anything.

The next morning, despite his hangover, Gowran insisted on accompanying the team which was escorting their captives to a location where an exchange of prisoners had been negotiated. Chilam was off to another village that needed his soothsaying services. Jake was left alone to continue his writing, and to think. Slipping on a plain white loincloth and taking a PADD, he sat down at the edge of the jungle to write, but he could not concentrate on writing the novel he had begun. There were other things on his mind, troubling things, things that were buried deep but which kept bubbling to the surface, and they were bubbling to the surface more and more frequently lately.

He was still sitting there in the shade several hours later, staring out across the encampment, when he was joined by Swift Ocelot. The ten-year-old boy had become attached to him, and seemed to take it as his responsibility to see to his every need whenever Chilam was away.

"I brought you some fruit," he said, placing a plate of fresh melon and berries before him.

"Thank you," Jake said, looking up with a smile. The boy stood there silently. "Will you join me?" The boy grinned widely as only ten-year-olds can, and sat down cross-legged beside him.

Jake thought back to when he was ten. He was on the USS Saratoga at the time. Those were happy times, his mother Jennifer and his father Benjamin being so much in love and their home so filled with happiness. In his short life Jake had already lived on one planet and four starships. He had over the years become adept at scoping out a new terrain and assimilating quickly. You had to when you moved around like he did. Although he had learned how to assimilate, he did not exactly fit in wherever he was. Jake was getting accustomed to that too. In that he had developed an inner fear of forming new friendships because he lost them so easily, not fitting in was actually to his advantage. It gave him a good excuse for not becoming close with anyone.

Aaron Hanson had been an exception to that. Aaron's father was a bridge officer, and when he was transferred to the Saratoga Jake had hoped that meant Aaron and his family would be stationed there for a while. There were few boys Jake's age on the Saratoga, and he was beginning to feel lonely. Keeping his distance from his peers was one thing, being isolated was something totally different. His own father being the first officer with the rank of Lieutenant Commander placed the two families in a similar social position. That Jake could not care less about, but it did mean they lived in the same section and saw each other more frequently. It also meant both of their parents often attended similar functions, which left the two ten-year-old boys many times alone.

Jake had begun a collection of holodeck programs of places on Earth and Aaron had a collection of starship 3-D cards. The two boys spent hours together with each showing and explaining his collection to the other. Jake was just as interested in Aaron's hobby as Aaron was in his which resulted in many happy hours for the two of them. The two boys were otherwise as different as their appearances. Aaron's hair was fine, blond, and worn long in the back over his collar. Jake's was black, wiry and curly. Aaron was as light skinned as Jake was dark, and his eyes were a deep blue whereas Jake's were a chocolate brown. Whereas Jake was quiet and shy, Aaron was full of energy and bounced from one thing to the next with buoyant enthusiasm.

Jake remembered one afternoon in particular. They were at Aaron's looking at his collection and Jake had to take a leak badly but didn't want to interrupt his new friend. So, he did as many boys his age did, he reached down and squeezed the tip. Aaron of course noticed.

"You gotta take a leak?"

"Yeah."

"Bad?"

"Yeah."

"Me too."

"Yeah?"

"Wanna have a contest?"

"What sort of contest?"

"Bet I got to go more than you."

"Bet you don't."

"You're on."

"So what do we do?"

"Com'on."

Leading Jake into the bathroom, Aaron took a potty out from under the sink. "This is for my little sister," he explained. "You wanna go first?"

"You go ahead," Jake replied, still not certain what his buddy had in mind.

Pulling down his fly, Aaron slipped his little dink out and proceeded to piss in the pot, straining at the end to be sure he'd drained every last drop. Carefully marking the level, he dumped it in the toilet and handed the bowl to Jake. They watched intently as the level once again began to rise, but Jake ran out of steam before he was able to reach Aaron's level.

"Told ya I had to go more," grinned Aaron.

"So you're full of piss," replied Jake with a smile.

"Was full of piss," corrected Aaron, also with a wide grin. He glanced down at Jake's limp dink. "Yours is pretty big."

Jake looked down at his, and then at Aaron's. Aaron had not yet tucked his back in. Besides the obvious difference in colour, Aaron's entire dick head was sheathed in skin. "Yours looks different."

"Yeah. Yours too."

The boys stood there, studying each other for a moment. "Yours feel good if you fiddle with it?" Aaron asked as he reached down and rolled the tip of his in his fingers.

"Oh yeah," grinned Jake. "But I get heck if I get caught doing it."

"Me too," said Aaron with a grin, happy to have found someone else who shared his secret. He continued to roll the end of his dick between his thumb and first two fingers. "Yours get stiff when you fiddle with it?" he asked, his penis starting to swell in response to his manipulations.

"Yeah," replied Jake, his also starting to swell just from watching Aaron.

"Let's go to my room."

Leaving their penises hanging out of their flies, the two boys went to Aaron's room. Sitting there on his bed, they continued to play with themselves, marvelling at the still awesome sensation that pleasuring oneself brought, and stealing glances at each other. Soon the two young boys were stiff.

"I've never seen a, well, the dick of a boy, well, your colour," observed Aaron.

"I'm Afro American. I was born on Earth."

"Yeah? Neat. I've never been to Earth. Dad says maybe some day we'll spend a holiday there."

"Well, I don't remember it much. We've moved around a lot."

"Yeah, us too."

"I've never seen another guy when his thing is hard before."

"Feels great don't it," Aaron said, more as an observation than a question as he studied Jake's cock.

"You can have a good look if you want," Jake offered.

"Okay," said Aaron as he bent closer to observe the first black cock he'd ever seen. Jake did not know it at the time, but he was well hung, and at ten his stiff cock was already four inches long. He was circumcised and back in those days when he got hard the skin pulled back just a little way to reveal the piss slit and not much more.

"Want me to pull the skin back?" Jake asked.

"Sure."

Jake pulled it back slowly, shivering at the sensation. His swollen, dark purple-black head was slowly revealed. It was widely flanged, like the top of a flattop mushroom. Releasing his skin, it crept back up.

"Can your skin go back?" Jake asked innocently as Aaron sat back up. He had seen uncircumcised boys before and his dad had explained the difference, but he'd never seen one erect before.

"Sure." The ten-year-old slowly began to draw back on his skin and Jake bent closer to watch.

Aaron's dick head was more bulbous than mushroom cap shaped, and it was much redder than the rest of his penis. Jake felt an urge to reach out and touch his new friend's organ. He also wondered what it would taste like. It looked like a strawberry ice cream cone. That he had such thoughts surprised him, but did not offend him. He was simply curious, and wondering bout Aaron's penis was no different from wondering about anything that was new. He did know that this intimacy would be frowned upon by adults though, so he did not attempt to follow up on his desires, and the two boys, satisfied for the moment, tucked their stiff cocks back in their pants and began to play starships.

They played with themselves several times after that, simply because it felt good and it was great having a friend to share the experience with. Neither boy knew anything about orgasms and neither ever went that far. Nor did they ever offer to try doing it to each other, though the thought certainly crossed Jake's mind. Then Aaron's father got transferred to another ship, the Melbourne. Jake wondered if Aaron and his dad were still on the Melbourne when it was destroyed in the Battle of Wolf 359. He hoped that Aaron and his dad had survived as he and his dad had. Jake was not very hopeful. It had been Aaron's grandfather, Admiral J.P Hanson, who had lead the defence against the Borg in that battle, and Jake knew for certain that he had been killed.

"What are you thinking about?" Swift Ocelot asked, bringing Jake back to the present.

"Nothing."

"It was something about sex."

"No."

"Your tongue says no, but your reed says yes."

Jake glanced down at the erection tenting out his loincloth. He could not deny the evidence.

"Was it about your lover, Gowran?"

Jake winced. He was not used to anyone referring to Gowran and him in those terms. He was even less accustomed with a ten-year-old boy speaking so openly about adult relationships. "We are bonded brothers, Dhom R'uustai. And, no, I was thinking of something long ago, when I was a boy."

"Why are you not happy? If I were you, I would be so happy I would feel like bursting like a ripe kumquat."

"And why should I be happy?" asked Jake, both amused by the boy's innocence and feeling a sense of sadness at his own loss. His boyhood innocence had long ago been replaced by confusion, and at times even bitterness, about his life.

"You are admired by everyone in the village, even by those who are highly respected themselves. People say you are a brave warrior, cunning and wise, and a talented scribe. They speak of your loyalty to your lover and of your virility with awe in their voice. You have had great success in battle, and you have even saved the life of the Chilam, who gets as much pleasure from you as you do from him when you lay together, which is not always so with other men. You have much to be happy about."

"I am happy," Jake responded, wondering how the boy knew so much about Chilam's personal life.

"You are sad. You walk about as if you are worthless. You behave like a man who has no purpose in life."

Jake bristled at the boy's comments. If he had ever spoken to an adult like that when he was ten he would have received a severe scolding and told to mind his manners. Jake had to admit, however, that what really made him bristle was the fact that the boy was right.

"Perhaps if I pleasured your staff you would feel better," the boy offered, reaching over for the tent in Jake's lap.

"No," Jake said sharply as he drew away. "I ... I just want to be left alone."

"You are a strange man," the boy observed, his eyes showing his hurt at Jake's rejection as he got to his feet. "Your tongue says you are happy, but your eyes say you are sad. Your tongue says you are not thinking of sex, but your staff says you are. Your tongue says you do not want to be pleasured, but your heart says you do. You willingly offer others your help without question or requesting payment, but you spurn my own offer." His eyes flashed angrily as he pressed his lips together. "Well, if you will not accept my help, you should seek Chilam's. You are not in harmony."

Before Jake could think of a reply, the boy turned and stomped off. As he stared at the retreating figure, several thoughts came to his mind. The first was anger, anger that a child would lecture him so. Who was he to tell him he was not in harmony? How did he become so wise at such a young age? Actually, what the boy had really said was that he was lying. If he had ever talked that way to an adult, his father would have given him the longest and sternest lecture of his life and would have grounded him for at least a week.

As Jake sat there staring at the space where the boy had stood, that anger was gradually replaced by guilt. The boy was right. Despite his insolence, he had called it correctly. He had said he was happy, but in reality he was sad. He had said he had not been thinking of sex, but he had been. He had said he did not want to have sex with the boy, but deep down inside he had. He never hesitated to offer another a helping hand, but he had refused the boy's help. The boy was right. His tongue said one thing while the rest of his body said the opposite. He was not in harmony.

From guilt it was an easy step to self-pity. Jake had spent a lot of his life engaged in self- pity. Why not? What he had been going through over the past four years, nobody could understand. Hell, he could not really understand what was going on himself. All he knew was that others were much luckier than he was. Everyone he knew, knew who they were and what they wanted and how to go about getting it. Jake was not sure who he was or what he wanted. Some days he felt as if he did, and other days he rejected those thoughts. The problem was that he was different. He was different from his friends, and from every other boy that he knew in a very fundamental and very significant way. Nobody knew that, not even his father, and there was no way that Jake was ever going to tell anyone. That was his problem. There was nobody he could tell what he was going through. He was not in harmony, and there was nobody he could tell. Jake stood up and went for a walk. It did not help.

Not wanting to face anyone, and especially Swift Ocelot, Jake returned to the small hut he and Gowran shared and spent the rest of the day cooped up there. Chilam returned that evening and knocked on the pole outside the door of the small hut. Seeing who it was, Jake told him to come in. Normally he readily welcomed the opportunity to talk to the twenty-three-year-old, but this evening he was even too depressed to be cheered by the Soothsayer's presence.

"Can I get you something to drink, some fruit?" he asked hospitably.

"No, thanks," Chilam answered, tossing back his long, fine hair as he sat down on the mat opposite Jake.

"How was your mission?"

"Fine. Everything went well. And how was your day?"

"Fine too."

"That is not what Swift Ocelot has said."

"Oh?" snapped Jake. "And what did he have to say."

"Don't be angry with him. He is concerned about you. We all are."

"Well thank you, but I can take care of myself."

"We just want to help."

"There is nothing any of you can do."

"True, but the Gods can."

"Suppose I said I don't believe in your gods, or mine for that matter."

"Then I'd say Swift Ocelot was very observant. What your tongue says and what your mind says are not in harmony."

"And how do you know what my mind says?"

"I know Jake Sisko, and I know that the person in front of me is not the true Jake Sisko."

"So who do you think this is in front of you, a shape shifter?" Jake asked irritably.

"I think who it is in front of me is Jake Sisko all right, but not the true one."

"Fuck it all, even the true Jake Sisko does not know who he is."

"There is a solution, if you would listen."

"I'm sorry," Jake said apologetically. "Chilam, I don't know what it is. I don't mean to be so snarly. Nog always said I was the most moody person he'd ever met."

Chilam sat there, saying nothing. Jake poked at the earth floor with a stick. "All right," he finally said. "What is the solution?"

"A vision quest."

"You want me to starve myself and work to the point of physical exhaustion so I can have a hallucination? Why don't we take the easy way out? There are several dozen chemicals that can be swallowed, smoked or injected that will have the same effect."

Chilam sat there silently, his face revealing nothing.

"Shit! I'm sorry, again. I don't mean to belittle your beliefs or anything. I didn't mean it that way. I got nothing but respect for other people's ways and cultures. It's just, well, it's just. . . ." Jake looked at Chilam pleadingly and in frustration.

"You're afraid."

Jake bit his tongue as he fought back the anger and the retort that had leaped into his mind. "Yes," he said softly after a long while. He did not say what it was that he was frightened of. He did not have to. "So, what do I have to do in this vision quest?"

"We will commence tomorrow," Chilam replied, taking the question as acceptance. He was right. In having asked, Jake had accepted. "For tonight, perhaps I can make things more pleasant for you," the handsome youth said, reaching over and placing a hand on Jake's thigh.

"No, not tonight, thanks," Jake replied. He wanted to, he wanted to very badly, but he knew that tonight no matter how skilled Chilam was, it would not be good.

"Fine," Chilam said as he rose. "Then it begins tonight. Are you ready to face yourself?"

"Yeah, sure," Jake said as he got to his feet also. "Yeah," he said firmly, "I am."

Pausing at his hut, Chilam filled a small sack with several objects, and then lead Jake out into to the jungle. They walked for most of the night. The sun had begun to rise but had not yet penetrated the jungle foliage when they arrived at a fresh water spring. Having Jake remove his loincloth and sandals, Chilam filled a bladder skin from the pool and then lead Jake downstream from the spring. Having him stand and hold out his arms, Chilam began to bathe Jake using a coarse, powerful soap and his hands. Even though he was exhausted from the all night hike, and even though the water was cold, Jake felt himself becoming aroused. Chilam had a way with his hands. By the time he had worked his way from Jake's hair to his groin, Jake was erect, and by the time he worked on down to his toes, Jake's cock was jerking with eagerness. Normally he would have been embarrassed having an erection, but with Chilam it just seemed natural.

Taking a fifteen-centimetre reed out of his sack and having Jake bend over, Chilam inserted one end up his rectum. Jake inhaled nervously. Then taking a mouthful of water, the young Soothsayer blew it up Jake's ass. The shock and cold water caused him to go limp. Pinching the end of the reed, Chilam repeated the process half a dozen times and then had Jake step into the bushes and empty his bowels. It was Jake's first enema, and he was not certain he would ever want another. Having cleaned Jake's body inside and out, Chilam led him back to the pool and had him submerge himself up to his neck while the Soothsayer prayed silently for the Gods to guide Jake in his quest. By the time Jake got back out of the pool the cold water had chilled him to the bone and had shrivelled up his testicles and penis so they were as small as they were the day he was born.

Placing Jake's loincloth and sandals in his sack, Chilam led him on through the jungle. They walked for another kilometre along the stream and Jake watched while the older youth built a sweat lodge. Filling the central pit with rocks and heating them, Chilam stripped and poured water on the hot rocks, filling the small thatched chamber with steam. Before long they were both drenched with sweat. Their bodies, one black and one with a rich tan, glistened as the sweat beaded and then trickled down over their muscles in little rivulets. Jake felt as if every pore in his skin had opened up. Never had he felt so clean.

After several hours they emerged from the sweat lodge and walked further into the jungle, now travelling along animal trails that became fainter and fainter and that evidently few men had ever travelled. The two naked youths could easily have been mistaken for animals themselves as they made their way silently along the trail. They finally came to a hole in the ground, the remnants of an old lava tube, the opening to which was barely large enough for Jake to squeeze through. Lighting a pitch torch that hung just inside, Chilam led Jake farther down into the cave, finally arriving at a small chamber whose roof was blackened from years of burning torches. The walls were brightly decorated with a multitude of symbols and glyphs that Jake could not read.

"This cave is called Naj Vulpacutli. It is one of the doorways to the Otherworld," Chilam explained. "Through these ch'en, these sacred caves, one can travel beyond this world, beyond death itself, to the realms of the Gods and one's ancestors. These gifts will explain to the Gods why you, an Offworlder and not one of the people, seek their help." He placed four chicken feathers on the floor, a white to the north, red to the east, black to the west, and yellow to the south. In the middle he placed a green sprig, which he said represented the tree of life. Finally, he lit three candles which began to give off a sweet-smelling smoke, not unlike burning hemp.

"Now," he continued, "I have purified your mortal body so you may travel in the Otherworld. The incense from these candles will help you. Inhale deeply and allow the incense to fill your lungs. It will purify your mind and help it focus. Concentrate on the tree of life as you pray for guidance in your quest. Focus on that request and think of nothing else. You must block all other thoughts from your mind except your prayer for guidance. "

"Whom do I pray to?"

"To whomever you want. Are you Christian?"

"Yes. Southern Baptist."

"Then pray to God, or Jesus, or a patron saint. Pray to an ancestor, to your father, to Kukulcan, the Mayan supreme god, the god of resurrection and reincarnation. It does not matter to whom you pray. They are all one and the same."

Pray to Jesus, his father, or Kukulcan for guidance . . . yeah, right. Like one of those three would know all about what it was like to be a gay teen! Jake pushed the negative thought out of his mind. He had to be positive.

"That leaves only one last gift to make to the Gods."

"And that is?"

Chilam plucked one of the leaves from the twig and to Jake's surprise, it immediately turned brown and brittle. Giving it to Jake to hold, he took a cactus thorn from his pouch. Then with a sudden movement, he grabbed Jake's penis with his right hand and stretched out what remained of his foreskin. Before Jake could react, he jabbed the thorn through the loose skin and quickly held Jake's hand under it so his fresh blood dripped on the leaf. Catching half a dozen drops of blood on the leaf, he then held it in the flame of one of the candles. "Repeat after me, 'This, my blood, is for you, Camaxtli, God of Fate, so you may lead me on my quest and reveal to me my true self'." Jake repeated the prayer. "You must make this sacrifice and recite the prayer the morning of each day, the moment you awake." With that final instruction, Chilam stood and began to leave.

"How long do I stay here?"

"Until you know your true self. Until you know your true name."

And with that, he turned and left. Jake sat and stared at the wall of the cave opposite him. What was he doing here? He was no descendent of the Maya. Shit, he barely knew anything about them. He certainly didn't believe in their gods. Jake quickly brushed that thought from his mind and found himself apologizing to the gods he did not believe in. All right, it was not logical, but he figured why not give it a try? At least he was doing something, and at this point he was willing to give anything a try. He could not keep on living the life he was living, delighting in his gayness one day and hating it the next, admitting and embracing it one moment and denying and hiding it a moment later. He concentrated on the tree of life and inhaled deeply as he focussed on his mission. His foreskin ached where Chilam had pierced it.

He concentrated harder and inhaled deeper. The candles gave off a spicy fragrance and as he inhaled and exhaled his vision began to blur. Jake wondered what hallucinogen he was inhaling, and then quickly pushed that thought out of his mind also. It was just a means of helping him concentrate. He had to be positive. The eighteen-year-old youth wondered whom he should pray to.

His first thought was his father. He loved his father, loved him more than any other person. Benjamin Sisko was strong physically and mentally, determined to the point of being bullheaded, highly moral, and respected by everyone who knew him, even his enemies. He was dedicated and hard-working, and a Starfleet Officer to the core. He was the type of person that inspired admiration and loyalty, the type of person that was put on a pedestal as a role model to emulate. Of course in his position as the Emissary, he was even more elevated in the eyes of the Bajorans. To Jake, he was all of those things, but also a warm and caring dad, a dad who would do anything for his son, a dad whose love was unquestioning and boundless. Jake loved him too. He always had and as he grew older that love just grew deeper. They had an exceptionally close relationship, closer than many sons and dads he knew. It often seemed as if his dad knew exactly what he was thinking and exactly what he was about to say. He often found that his dad understood how he felt even better than he knew himself. There was, however, one major exception to that, a very major exception. That he could not discuss that with his dad caused an ache in his heart, but he simply could not do it.

Jake's next thought was God, or Jesus. His mother had been the religious one in the family. His dad was often too busy, or had an emergency that had to be taken care of, so it was frequently just his mother and he who had attended church services. Then she had died and Jake stopped going to church even though his dad had encouraged him to continue, and had even arranged to have time to go himself. That was another example of how deeply his dad loved him. How many dads would place their son before duty? Jake could not continue going to church however. How could he? How could he go to a church that worshipped a God that allowed what had happened to his mother to happen? How could any God cause him such pain? Of course over time Jake realized that attitude was wrong and that he was in no position to question God's will, but by then the habit of going to church had been broken.

Jake realized that was probably just as well. Had he been deeply religious, what he was going through right now would be even more difficult than it was. He knew that almost all Christian faiths, and in fact most religions, condemned same sex relationships. Those people who believed the strongest in their faith could even quote sections of the Bible or the Koran or some similar religious text to support their claim. Jake had never thought much about the religious controversy. As far as he was concerned, God had made him, and if God had made him, then He must have had a reason making him so that he liked other boys. Still, everything considered, Jake decided that God or Jesus were not likely sources for him to pray to for guidance on this issue.

That left Kukulcan, the Mayan supreme God, the God of resurrection and reincarnation. He had no idea what the God looked like, what He did, or anything else about Him. Jake smiled. He knew a lot about his first two choices but he could never pray to them, and the last he knew nothing about, which made praying to him impossible. So, concentrating on the green twig, he prayed to Camaxtli, the God of Fate. Almost everyone he knew whose opinion he valued seemed to believe in Fate, so why not pray to him? Besides, if he was going to have to puncture his foreskin every morning for the guy, then of all the choices he had to pray to, Camaxtli owed him the most. Jake smiled at that thought and hoped the God saw the humour too.

Jake concentrated hard on his request for guidance. There was no thunderclap, no booming voice, no visitations by mysterious spirits or half-man-half-beast creatures. He concentrated harder. Nothing, not even any shifting images to raise his hopes. His dick still hurt. Jake concentrated with all his strength, which considering his lack of sleep, lack of food, and the exertion he'd been through, was not exactly all that great. He soon drifted off to sleep.

While he slept, he dreamed. He dreamed about all those who had been an influence in his life, his father and mother, his grandfather, Nog, Mardah, Gowran, Onaya, Salene, Nolar, Chilam, Aaron, Major Kira, Doctor Bashir, Richard back at the Utopia Planetia Fleet Yards. . . . They all floated in and out in a fog, all telling him what he should do, all telling him what he should be. He packed up his bundle and followed Richard along the back alleys and narrow streets near the Martian docking bays where they eavesdropped on drunken and clandestine conversations, and snickered and jabbed each other in the ribs as they listened to off-colour jokes and shipmen's tales of fantastic sex. He hid behind the crates of supplies destined for Quarks and jerked off with Nog. He dodged the mortar and phasar fire on Ajilon Prime with Doctor Bashir, and naked and anxious he followed Chilam along the narrow trail in the dense jungle to seek his Destiny.

When he awoke, stiff and sore, he found himself laying on the spongy moss carpet of the jungle floor. It was early evening. He slowly raised himself on his elbows as he tried to remember where he was. When he had fallen asleep he was in the lava tube cave. He glanced around but nothing was familiar, which did not surprise him. One part of the jungle looked like another as far as he was concerned. He remembered bits and pieces of his dream, but nothing that was of any help explaining what had happened. He must have left the cave in his sleep somehow, although he had no history of sleepwalking. The green twig, a candle, a piece of flint, the cactus thorn, and Chilam's empty sack lay beside him. Putting the things in the sack, Jake slowly got to his feet. He had to go to Kopocactyl. He did not know why, or how he knew, or where it was. He did not even know what it was, except that it was a place. He just knew he had to go there. Jake headed out along the jungle path.

For two days he travelled, subsisting on the few berries and roots that he recognized as being edible and could find. Each morning he plucked a green leaf from the twig and watched it instantly turn brown and brittle. Each morning he stretched out his foreskin, gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes as he quickly pierced it with the thorn, and dribbled his fresh blood over the dried leaf. Each morning he held the leaf in the flame of the candle and prayed to Camaxtli to lead him on his quest and to reveal to him his true self.

In the afternoon of the third day a tropical rain storm hit. Jake sought refuge under a huge tree with dense foliage that the rain seemed to be unable to penetrate. Another of the forest sentinels had fallen years ago and lay on the forest floor under the umbrella tree. Jake sat on it and watched the rain, something that he'd had rare opportunity to do having spent most of his life on starships and DS9. The rain began to come down ferociously, pelting the ground much like he had seen hail strike in old clips of Earth. In the darkness caused by the black clouds and pelting rain he saw something running down the path. At first he thought it to be a fawn, but realized as the creature drew nearer that it was a child. Seeing the tree and thinking the same as Jake had, the child raced toward it, splashing through puddles without any effort to avoid them until he was under the shelter of the huge tree.

He was a small boy of about seven or eight, skinny, and naked. His skin was the colour of a hickory nut, his thick, curly hair pitch-black, and his wide eyes dark brown. The boy was carrying a pole twice his length with the end whittled to a sharp point. He smiled, a broad smile that immediately made Jake smile back. His middle tooth was missing, his entire body was dripping wet, and his legs were mud-spattered half way up his thighs.

"Do you mind if I join you out of the rain?" he asked politely as he placed his left hand on his right shoulder in an act of submission as was proper for a child addressing an adult.

"No, of course not. It is really coming down hard."

The boy looked around as if looking for a dry place to sit, and finally choosing a clear spot on the forest floor before Jake, he sat down cross-legged facing him. The boy stared at him openly until Jake glanced away and shifted uncomfortably.

"What is wrong?" the boy asked.

"Nothing."

"Why do you lie to me?"

Jake bristled. Were all children in this culture so blunt and so observant? "All right, where I come from, it is not considered polite to stare at another person."

"I was not staring, I was examining. There is a difference."

The boy's explanation did nothing to appease Jake's temper.

"Examining?"

"I have seen dark-skinned men before, but I have never seen a man that was black."

"Well, in that case, look to your heart's content," Jake commented sarcastically. Besides naked, he was tired, cold, wet, and hungry.

"You have a good-looking body. I would like to have a body like yours when I grow up."

Despite his foul mood Jake had to smile. He remembered being that young. He also remembered looking at the bodies of older boys and flexing in front of a mirror and wishing he had bigger muscles. He'd been skinny back then, and even though now he was filling out, he still considered his body as being awkward and gangly. Everyone was always telling him he could add a few pounds. Jake looked back at the naked child. The boy could certainly benefit with a few more pounds, quite a few more. His arms and legs were thin as sticks and looked like you could easily snap them with your bare hands. You could see every one of his ribs, and when he hunched forward it looked like his shoulder bones were going to push out of his skin.

"Are you staring, or examining?" the boy asked.

Jake's temper immediately flared once more. Little boys in this culture were not only blunt, they were downright insolent. The tone in the boy's voice was not one of rudeness though. He had spoken in the manner of making a statement, and actually, the boy was right, he had been staring. Jake had to smile once again as he calmed back down. "Examining."

Getting to his feet and walking over to where Jake was sitting, he hopped up onto the fallen tree and sat beside him. "So why are you naked?"

"I am on a vision quest."

"So, that is why you are out here in the jungle."

"Yes. And what about you? What are you doing out here?"

"Hunting."

Jake suppressed a smile at the boy's comment and wondered just what it was that an eight-year-old boy hunted. "So that is why you have the pointed pole."

The boy nodded and grinned, and Jake had to grin back. The boy's smile was infectious. It was too bad boys grew up to be men and learned to hide their feelings.

"I was following a wild tapir, and I almost had him when this darn rain came and I lost him," the boy said as he began to swing his feet.

"A wild tapir is a very dangerous animal."

The boy nodded, this time more vigorously, and again flashed Jake a wide grin. "And very tasty," he observed.

"I would not mind a little wild tapir right now," Jake admitted. "I could eat a whole one all by myself."

"I found a large twilberry bush not far from here. I can show you when the rain stops. Can you eat on your vision quest?"

Jake thought for a moment. Chilam had said nothing about fasting. "Yes."

"Then I will show you," the boy said. He sat there for a moment, and then observed, "my hunt was not totally unsuccessful. I found this." The boy opened his hand and showed Jake a smooth, polished pebble, a treasure for any eight-year-old in any culture.

"Nice," Jake observed. "Can I see it?" The boy handed it over and Jake examined it. "The colouration is very unique," he said handing the treasure back to the boy.

The boy's face broke into a wide, gap-toothed smile with Jake's acknowledgement of the value of his find. "So, what are you seeking in this vision quest?"

"To understand more about myself. To find out who the true Jake Sisko is."

"So, what is it that you don't know about yourself?"

Jake stared out at the rain.

"It is so bad you cannot tell me?"

"No. It's not bad."

"Well then?" the boy asked, swinging his feet more vigorously.

"It just isn't something I wish to share, especially with one so young."

"What does being young have to do with it?" He began to swing his legs alternately, swinging the right out as he drew the left back.

"There are some things that are not for young people to know."

The boy laughed. It was the honest giggle of boyhood, from the heart and thoroughly and openly enjoyed. "That is funny. Usually I am told that I do not know enough, and that there is much yet for me to learn. I am not usually told there is something that I should not know."

Jake had to smile also. He felt very comfortable with the boy, much like he had felt back when he was on the Saratoga with Aaron. He had forgotten how much fun they'd had.

"So, is it because you are black?"

"No."

"Because you are human?"

"No."

The boy leaned back on his elbows and spread apart his legs. His little penis was no bigger than Jake's little toe, and his testicles as small as grapes, and just as smooth. Jake looked away.

"Why do you turn your head?"

"I didn't."

"You lie."

"All right. I did."

"Why?"

"I am not used to seeing naked young boys."

"You do not like looking at naked boys?"

"It's not a matter of liking. I'm just not used to it."

"Do you like looking at naked boys your age?"

"Yes."

"You like looking at naked girls your age?"

Jake considered lying, or not answering, but decided the truth was the best course. The boy would probably just accuse him of lying anyway. "No. Girls do not interest me as much."

"Do girls make your thing stand up?"

"Now you are getting into those things that young boys should not know about."

"About girls making a guy's thing stand up? That is dumb. I know about that stuff."

"You do?" Jake asked with a smile. When you are eight you can be so confident.

"Sure. I can make mine stand up," the boy announced proudly.

Jake thought back to Aaron, and the fun they'd had. It would be nice to be that young and innocent again. The boy reached down and began to fiddle with his little penis. Jake's organ began to swell in response even though he wasn't touching it. "You shouldn't do that."

"Why?"

Jake was not sure why. Almost everyone he had ever known was opposed to boys fiddling with themselves, and they were certainly opposed to a boy doing it in front of others.

"It feels good," the boy observed.

"Yes."

"It is not harmful."

"No."

"Yours wants you to do it too."

Jake glanced over at him.

"I seen it move. Let's make our things feel good together."

"Where I come from men and boys don't do that together."

"Do boys do it by themselves?"

"Yes."

"Do they do it with other boys?"

"Some of them do, sometimes."

"Do men do it by themselves?"

"Some. Some do it together with other men also," Jake said, anticipating the question.

"But not men with boys? That is dumb."

Jake knew that in some cultures, and in some specific periods in Earth's past, men and boys did engage in sex together. From the comments made by Swift Ocelot, and now this boy, he suspected this culture at this time in its history was one of those cultures. He also knew that the majority of races throughout time considered such a thing legally, socially and morally unacceptable. Jake did not want to get into that conversation with the boy. The rain began to let up.

"Would you like to go pick those berries now?" the boy asked.

"Yes, I would," Jake quickly replied, glad to get out of the awkward situation he had found himself in.

As he followed the skinny boy up the trail, he could not help but notice how small his buttocks were, and how enticing. As Jake's penis began to swell once again he shook his head. Why was he thinking such things? This was not like him, but then, he had not had many occasions of being in the company of naked eight-year-olds. After a feed of twilberries, the two continued up the trail. That evening their meal consisted of a few thick white roots that the boy dug up. They sort of tasted like raw turnip to Jake. A little later the boy stood up and openly and unashamedly began to take a leak. He directed his spray at one leaf and then another as if trying to see how many leaves he could drench before he was done.

"You know what I like about being a guy?" he asked, turning and facing Jake as he shook himself off.

"No. What?"

"Guys don't have to squat to take a leak. And they can make fancy patterns with their pee or practice aiming and stuff while they do it."

"That's true," Jake agreed with a smile.

"What about you? What do you like about being a guy?"

Jake had to think. "Well, I like the way that guys think, and the way guys act. They are different from girls and women that way."

"Yeah," agreed the boy as he half sat and half lay on the fallen log Jake was sitting on and stared at the fire they had built. "Guys get right to the point and don't waste a bunch of time talking and talking and talking. And they don't get all emotional and mushy and stuff." His hand crept down to his crotch and he began to fiddle with himself. "This is another thing I like about being a guy."

"Yeah, that is a nice thing about being a guy," Jake agreed.

The boy gave no indication that he was going to stop, and after a few moments of hesitation, Jake yielded to temptation. He slowly reached down and took his limp tool in his hand. He bounced it with his fingers, and tugged on the base. His manipulations and the sight of the boy beside him tugging on his little penis soon had Jake stiff. As he wrapped his fingers about the stiff, black rod protruding from between his legs, he noticed the boy's little pricklet was stiff also. Holding it between his thumb and first two fingers, the boy began to slowly move his hand up and down the short shaft and back and forth over the little knob.

The two lay there on the jungle floor side by side and slowly jerking. It had been a long time since he'd done something like that, pleasuring himself openly and willingly along with a friend. Jake thought back to when sex was so simple, back to his boyhood. It was a pleasant time, a time of innocence and exploration, a time when sex was a novelty and a mystery.

"Know what else I like about being a boy?"

"No," Jake said with a smile. "What?"

"Having a staff," the boy said with a grin. "Besides being funner to pee with, there's so many ways you can have fun with it, so many ways to feel good. You can use your hand, your best buddy's hand, his mouth, his bum . . . a melon." He gave Jake an impish grin.

Jake smiled. The kid was right. It was good to be a boy, but not just because of his urogenital system. Being a boy was a way of thinking, a way of acting, a way of being that was different from that of a toddler, a man, or a female. Unhindered by experience and social restraints, a boy had more choices and freedoms than anyone else despite the controls placed on him because of his age. Of course boyhood came with its own problems, but it also came with many blessings. In a way, boyhood reflected all that was good about being a male. Jake smiled. He was glad that he was a male.

Noticing that the boy had stopped playing with himself, Jake reluctantly stopped also. He debated telling the boy that if he continued it got even better, but he decided against it. The boy had a right to his naivety. The two lay there on their backs, their cocks stiff and sticking up in the air, both itching for attention even though one was seven inches and the other barely two.

"Chilam says with practice a guy can pleasure himself like this for five or six hours."

Now Chilam had never told him that! Jake was about to comment when he remembered that Chilam was both a name and a title, and every village or at least group of villages had a Chilam. The boy could be talking about someone totally different. The Chilam he knew was very talented, but five or six hours? Now if that were only possible! "Five or six hours you say?" Jake asked, repressing a smile.

"I can only do it for forty minutes."

"Forty minutes? That is a long time," Jake observed. He knew that when he was that age he was able to fiddle with his dick for a much longer time than when he was older and could ejaculate, but even so, he had never done it that long. "How do you manage to do that?" he asked, playing along

"You know, by relaxing your whole body and breathing slow, letting your mind relax, using your bum and peehole muscles to hold it back, stuff like that," the boy said. "Guess that's not long compared to what you can do."

"Believe me, forty minutes is a great accomplishment," Jake said, not willing to admit that not once since Nog had taught him how to jerk off had he ever done it that long. "By the way, what is your name?"

"I am known as Backlum Chaam."

"I'm Jake Sisko."

As the boy resumed playing with himself, so did Jake. He relaxed all his muscles and breathed slowly and rhythmically as the boy was doing. Glancing over at the boy, Jake felt strange watching him stroking his stiff little penis. He had always felt that all the secrecy about jerking off and the social taboos against doing it were dumb, and watching the eight-year-old openly and unashamedly enjoying himself, that position was reaffirmed. It felt good, and it certainly was not harmful. Even laws and social taboos that prohibited men and boys from enjoying this together had to be questionable. They both did it, so what was the harm in doing it together? Jake had often found his thoughts were out of step with everyone else's in the past, so that last thought did not totally surprise him.

Despite his efforts, Jake had difficulty holding back. Before long the head of his stiff cock was itching to release his load and he had to stop and tightly constrict his sphincters to hold himself back as he tried to concentrate on something as nonsexual as he could. He concentrated on Odo. The unyielding, humourless law enforcer was a good choice. His desire slowly began to fade. Backlum Chaam looked over at him and grinned with that gap-toothed smile and Jake had to grin back. Yes, it was good to be a boy, and to be a male.

And so they sat there side by side, man and boy, each slowly pumping his right hand up and down his stiff organ, pausing and fighting back the urge to continue, deep breathing to calm himself, and then once again resuming that self-stimulation that brought such exquisite physical and mental pleasure. Jake lost track of the time. At least forty minutes had to have passed. Each pause had to be longer and longer before he dare resume.

Finally the boy's eyes glazed over and with an exhausted whimper, the naked eight-year- old began to jerk his hips uncontrollably and to tremble with the awesome delight of his dry orgasm. The exquisite look of pain and pleasure on his young, flushed face was too much for Jake. The eighteen-year-old shot off a load like he had never released in a long time. It shot up into the air and away from his body to land on the jungle floor several feet in front of him. Shot after violent shot erupted out of his throbbing cock. Even when the force subsided, his hot, slimy juice continued to ooze out of his irritated slit and down over his glans and his fingers as if it was never going to stop.

He finally glanced over at the boy. Backlum Chaam was grinning with delight at the sight. Despite their difference in age and background, and despite the fact the boy could not yet ejaculate, he knew exactly how Jake was feeling, and being there with him and a part of his experience brought him as much joy as his own orgasm. Jake sighed as he felt the tension flow out of him. This was jacking off as it should be, open, unashamed, enjoyed, and shared. That was how all sex should be. The eight-year-old snuggled up to him and Jake put his arm around him as the two naked boys enjoyed the bliss that followed a male's orgasm. Only another male can understand and appreciate that feeling, and that was one thing that was so great about being gay. That was the thought on Jake's mind as he drifted off.

When he awoke, it was morning and the boy had gone. He thought about the previous day. It had been an unusual, but a fantastic, experience. It had reminded him of his boyhood. He had liked being a boy, and at the moment he liked being a man. The eighteen-year-old reached down and fondled his limp tool and damp balls. He got up and took a leak, directing his spray at first one leaf and the other, trying to see how many he could drench before he was done. He liked the physical attributes that made him a man, he liked the psyche that defined him as masculine and he liked that he liked other men. To paraphrase the Klingons, it was a good day to be gay. As he bent to pick up his small sack, he noticed the boy's polished stone beside it. It was strange the boy would have forgotten it. Jake slipped it in the sack with his other meagre belongings.

After his blood sacrifice to the God of Fate, Jake continued on his way. That afternoon he came across an ancient, exceedingly corpulent man sitting beside a cairn beside the trail. He wore only a pair of worn sandals and a plain white, low-slung loincloth. A simple pouch hung from a leather strap across his chest and he wore a thin, silver ring. He had to weigh at least three hundred pounds, and most of that was stomach. His reddish-brown skin was blotchy with dark liver spots, his head bald and glistening in the sun, and the hair on his chest, which looked more like an old woman's breasts, was coarse and white. Most of his teeth were worn to the gums and what were left were yellow. The man had at least three chins and the circumference of his forearms and thighs was at least triple Jake's. He looked like he was in his eighties, and he looked like he was not going to last much longer.

"Yam Poctyl?" the man asked, looking up at Jake. His eyes were white. Looking closer, Jake found they were covered by cataracts.

"No, sorry."

The man sighed. "I'm waiting for Yam Poctyl. He is my beloved."

"I see," said Jake, and then immediately felt guilty for using such a phrase.

"Will you sit with me a while? It is very lonely, and I have been waiting a long time."

Jake hesitated. He was anxious to get on with his mission. He had no idea how far he had to travel yet to reach Kopocactyl, nor what he was to do once he got there. Besides, he could sense that the man was one of those types who once he got your attention would never stop talking. Still, Jake could not help feeling compassion for him. That was one of his weaknesses, or one of his strengths, depending on how you looked at it. "Sure. For a while," the teenager said as he sat beside the man.

The stranger reached out and placed his hand on Jake's leg. His first impulse was to push the old man's hand away, and as his fat, stubby fingers began to slowly caress his thigh, Jake felt his skin crawl. After a few moments, his caressing stopped and his hand began to slowly move upward, over his hip, across his waist and up over his chest and neck, and finally explored his face.

"Yam Poctyl is a lot like you," he said after many minutes. "A bright, handsome young man, twenty-five and strong as a bull, and hung like one too." The man chuckled. "I am fortunate to be his lover."

"Indeed," agreed Jake, and then realizing how that could be taken, quickly added, "I mean, he sounds like . . . quite a man." Glancing at the cairn in the hope of finding something else to talk about to get him out of the awkward situation, what he saw caused him to shake his head and take a closer look. On the marker was the name Yam Poctyl.

"My name is Camaxtli."

That revelation on the heels of his first surprise left Jake speechless. His first thought was that this was the God of Fate at last, come to answer his prayers. If the old man was, he certainly was not the image Jake had had in his mind as he'd made his sacrifice each morning. He debated if he should comment on his vision quest and his daily blood sacrifice to see how the old man reacted, but decided against it. The man could not be the real God of Fate, if there even was such a God. He was just an old, fat man named after the supposed Being. "Jake. Jake Sisko," he said at last.

"So, Jake Jake Sisko, are you some man's beloved like my Yam Poctyl?"

"No. Not exactly."

"Are you attracted to men?"

Jake hesitated responding. He had asked himself that very question with growing frequency lately, and after a lot of soul searching, he had always arrived at the same answer.

"Yes, I am," he replied. Nobody having ever asked him that question before, he had never said the answer out loud until that moment. Saying it caused goose bumps to form on his arms. Somehow, saying it gave it more certainty, made it seem more tangible, even though he had admitted those feelings silently to himself hundreds of times in the past.

"Do you find yourself wanting to know more about men loving men?"

"Yes," Jake admitted. Ever since his first experiments with gay sex with Nog, he had searched the DS9 files, the Starfleet library, and any other information sources he could get his hands on for information on that topic. He could not admit having that interest to anyone else, not to anyone who worked at DS9 or in Starfleet, not to his father, nor to any of his friends. He could not even admit that to Nog, his very best friend. The Ferengi saw their messing around as just that, messing around to relieve themselves of their horniness. Jake certainly could not admit his curiosity to anyone who cared about him, but he could to this dying old man on an unnamed jungle path on an unimportant planet. The stranger's opinion of him, and whether or not he approved, was transitory. His opinion and approval were important even though they had just met, but not being long-lasting, confessing his curiosity was safe.

"You've had sex with another male before?"

"Yes."

"With more than one?"

"Yes," Jake replied, wishing that he could discuss these things with those he loved as easily as he was discussing them with the old man.

"Was it pleasant physically, having sex with these others?"

"Yes."

"So this is the life you want to lead?"

Jake hesitated.

"What is it about such a life that bothers you?"

"Well, I'm not exactly bothered . . . ," Jake began.

"Yet you hesitate. Do you find your attraction to other men disgusting?"

"No, of course not," replied Jake. "Not me."

"But others do."

"Yes. Some do. I know some of my friends would, Doctor Bashir, Miles O'Brien for sure, Quark, Major Kira. . . ."

"What sort of friends are these that would find you disgusting?"

"It's not me they would find disgusting."

"What then?"

"Well . . . homosexuality. The idea of men having sex with men."

"Why should that bother you?"

"Well, because they are my friends."

"If they are your friends, then it should not bother them."

Jake had thought of these things before, and had made the same arguments as the old man was making now. After all the arguments were done with, the facts remained that those closest to him felt same sex relationships were disgusting, and they were his best friends. "It is . . . well . . . just how it is where I come from."

"Is it?"

Jake's heartbeat increased. Dammit, this was not the first time he had thought about this. Of course that was how it was.

"What of your father?" the old man asked before Jake had a chance to form an answer to the first question in his head. "Would he be disgusted too?"

"No. Not disgusted. Not exactly. More . . . dissatisfied."

"Dissatisfied?"

"Well, yeah, and disappointed. He was disappointed I didn't want to enter Starfleet. I'm pretty sure he'd be disappointed to find I was gay, that I . . . well . . . don't want to have sex with women like other men."

"Do you consider yourself a man?"

"Of course I do," Jake retorted somewhat angrily. "Being gay does not mean I'm not a man."

First the boy, and now the old man. The people of this place had an annoying habit of being blunt and irritating, especially strangers.

"Would your father consider you a man?"

"Well . . . there's an attitude that if you are gay you aren't a real man."

"But you don't agree with that."

"No."

"Then your father is wrong."

"Yes, well, not wrong, just misinformed." Jake was making excuses for his father. He knew that, and he knew Camaxtli knew that. "Anyway, it's more than that."

"Such as?"

"Well, he'll be disappointed I won't be carrying on the Sisko name. He'll be disappointed that he won't be having any grandchildren." Jake's mind flashed back to Salene and the conversations they'd had about him being a castrati. Those conversations had been just as unpleasant as the one he was having now.

"And how would your mother feel?"

"She's dead."

"If she were alive. How would she feel?"

Jake thought for a minute. "I think she would understand," he finally said.

"She wouldn't think it wrong?"

"No."

"But?"

"But others would. Starfleet has a regulation that you cannot be a member if you are gay. If you want to join Starfleet you have to undergo a process they call psycho-surgery to . . . well . . . remove the condition. Besides, my Church says anyone who is homosexual is condemned to hell."

"Do you agree with these things?"

"No."

"You do not support all these things, but still you are not convinced that the life Destiny has laid out for you is the life you want to lead."

"No. Not totally."

"Those you've had sex with, have you loved any of them? I mean truly loved, in your heart, not just lusted for in your groin?"

Jake thought of those he'd had sex with. Nog, Salene, Nolar, Gowran, Chilam, Aaron, though in his case they had never touched, Richard, a classmate back on Mars with whom he'd had several experiences that could be considered of a sexual nature he had loved all of them, loved each of them in a way that was more than just liking, more than just the comradeship one has for a buddy, and that was totally separate from any feelings of lust. "Yes."

"Good." The old man smiled, showing his yellowed, worn teeth. "It is not enough just to accept what you are with your mind, you must accept what you are with your heart. Such was the case between Yam Poctyl and myself. We gave ourselves to each other from the heart. From the moment we met it was so. From the moment we met we knew we were meant to be lovers."

"So you lived together?" Jake asked, glad to get the topic off himself, but curious also, not just how a twenty-five-year-old and an eighty-year-old could be lovers, but what it was like for any two men to feel that way toward each other.

"Yes. We had a wonderful life together."

"What happened?"

"An accident," he sighed. "It should not have been. It should have been me to go first, not a young man with so much to live for."

"So . . . he . . . died."

"Yes."

"Ah . . . when you and I met . . . you said you were waiting for him."

"I am. We will be together again soon."

It took Jake a moment to realize what the man was saying. Placing his arm about the man's expansive shoulders, he drew him close. The old man said nothing at first, and then he began to talk. It was as Jake had suspected. Once Camaxtli had his attention, he talked incessantly, telling him how he and his lover had met, the life they had lead together, their many happy moments, and their sad ones. The old man rambled, sometimes becoming incoherent, and other times his mind sharp and clear. More and more frequently though he became confused, at one time talking to Jake, and at another to Yam Poctyl.

As he talked, he ran his fingers over Jake's skin, as if caressing him was soothing his own pain, and in a way, it probably was. Camaxtli's touch was gentle and caring, and although they had just met, and despite his aged appearance, Jake found he did not mind the man's familiarity. In fact as the caresses and hugs became more intimate, he found himself becoming aroused. Brushing his stubby fingers against Jake's semierect cock, Camaxtli chuckled.

"So, Yam Poctyl, you still find your old lover's touch arousing."

"Yes," whispered Jake as he caressed the old man's broad back. Pretending to be his lover was a minor deception, and caused no harm.

Camaxtli ran his fingers along Jake's hip and nudged him, indicating he wanted him to roll over. Jake did so, laying on his stomach in the tall grass beside the trail. He inhaled and held his breath as he felt the old man's forefinger touch his anus. As the man caressed it gently, Jake's cock became fully erect. Camaxtli reached into his pouch and took out a stone jar. Unstoppering it, he scooped out a bit of paste with his forefinger. He applied it to Jake's anus, and then slowly slipped his greasy, stubby finger into Jake's rectum. As he slowly finger-fucked Jake's tight hole, Jake's cock throbbed hotly against his stomach. The old man worked his finger in and out of Jake's rectum for several minutes, by which time Jake had begun to leak precum.

Finally removing his finger, Camaxtli scooped up more of the lubricant with it and his middle finger. Jake knew the old man's intentions but he did nothing to stop him. The old, blind man thought he was about to fuck his young lover, so why not indulge him? The idea of an obese, liver-splotched old man mounting him was far from erotic, but the knowledge that he was going to bring the ancient a few minutes of pleasure was stimulating. They say that love, true love, is blind. Well, let the old man think in the short time he had left that he was making love to his beloved Yam Poctyl. Jake glanced back and watched the ancient grease up his stubby, eighty- year-old penis.

Pushing apart Jake's legs, the old man knelt between them and then bent forward, placing his forearms on either side of the teenage boy. His broad, fat body totally hid Jake from view, and his flabby stomach came into contact with his naked buttocks long before the greased knob of his penis did. Camaxtli was old and feeble, but he was also experienced and skilled. Shifting up closer on his knees and reaching between his legs, he expertly guided his stubby penis to Jake's greased hole. As the stubby penis penetrated him, Jake was not in the least disgusted, and as Camaxtli's three-hundred pounds of flabby flesh pressed down upon him, Jake did not mind.

The old man began the rhythmic to and fro motion of lovemaking familiar to gay couples across the universe. His movements were slow and gentle, the movements of a tender and caring lover. Jake lay there passively, enjoying the physical stimulation of being fucked and the mental satisfaction of knowing he was bringing the man above him a unique and yet universally known pleasure. As the man's cock slowly eased in and out of him, as his hot, soft body slowly slid to and fro across his back, Jake felt his passion slowly rising.

Camaxtli's breath slowly became more laboured. He was sweating profusely, providing a natural lubricant as his chest and stomach slid back and forth over Jake's back and buttocks. The heat of the old man's body combined with the heat of the jungle caused Jake to begin perspiring also. He could feel his sweat trickling down over his ribs and down along his ass cheek to where Camaxtli's hot cock was now being thrust in and out of him urgently. The old man finally drove forward and withdrew with short, rapid thrusts and he groaned loudly. As the man's semen shot up Jake's rectum, Jake's cock, pinned between his stomach and the ground, suddenly throbbed and the teenager's own semen gushed out of his body and up along his stomach.

His limp cock slipping out of Jake's hole, Camaxtli rolled off him and sat up with his back against the nearest tree. Jake crawled over to him and snuggled up to his hot, flushed body.

"Yam Poctyl," the elderly man sighed, "it is so wonderful to be with you at last."

The old man slipped off the sliver ring on his finger, and taking Jake's hand, slipped it on his. He died within the hour. A hole had already been dug beside the cairn. Jake lowered his body into the grave and buried him there beside his lover. Piling the rocks up above the grave, he extended the marker so it joined Yam Poctyl's cairn and he scratched Camaxtli's name on a flat stone and set it in place. He knew just as their bodies were lying side by side, their souls had to be together in Heaven, or wherever souls of these people went. He hoped that as the old man looked down upon him, he forgave him his deception pretending to be his lover. He had little difficulty believing Camaxtli did.

Jake had much to think about as he continued on his way. It had been a strange, almost macabre experience, but he felt at peace with himself. The love between the old man and his young lover was proof that two men can love just as can a man and a woman. The love between Camaxtli and Yam Poctyl gave Jake the hope that he too might find such a future. Although he found nothing to eat, that night he slept soundly.

"This, my blood, is for you, Camaxtli, God of Fate, so you may lead me on my quest and reveal to me my true self."

As Jake said those words the next morning, he could not help but think of the eighty-year- old Camaxtli, and he made a quick request to the old man to help him too. He walked for as long as he could until the heat became too oppressive, and then he lay down in the shade and rested until the day began to cool off. Then once again he wearily got to his feet and continued on his way. As it started to grow dark, he began thinking about finding a place to sleep. Suddenly he came upon a small clearing, in the middle of which was a campfire. A hunk of venison was roasting on a spit, and after subsisting on berries and roots and having nothing at all the past two days, the aroma was as enticing as a flower to a bee. He quickly glanced about. There was nobody around. Other than the stone fire pit and the roasting venison and several large packsacks, there was nothing else to be seen. He cautiously took a step forward.

Suddenly a man leaped out at him from the tall grass, but this was no ordinary man. He was huge, six-foot-eight with a girth to match, and he was as black as the night. Jake was no match in his weakened state, and he was caught by surprise despite his caution, but he was young enough and alert enough to put up some resistance. Falling upon the ground with the man's weight fully on top of him, he had the wind knocked out of him. Thinking he had incapacitated the youth, the black giant rolled off him. To his surprise, Jake grabbed a handful of dirt and throwing it in his face, scrambled to his feet.

The man grabbed him and tripped him before he could get away. Jake kicked out blindly, and managed to connect with the man's head. Only momentarily stunned, the man retaliated by grabbing Jake by the foot and twisting violently, causing pain to shoot through his ankle. So the two fought, delivering blow for blow, until finally the man flipped Jake on his back and pinned him to the ground by sitting on his chest and holding down the boy's arms at the elbows with his huge feet.

"Well," the black man grunted, "what a delightful morsel the Gods have delivered me to satisfy my loins before I satisfy my stomach. And already naked as a bonus."

Holding down Jake's arms with his hands, he raised his body and slipped down so he was laying flat on top of him face to face. To Jake's surprise he kissed him. It was a rough, forceful kiss, the type of kiss Gowran might give, or the type of kiss a rapist would give his victim. As he lowered his head again, Jake raised his and returned the kiss just as violently. The coarse giant laughed and then descended on Jake's neck, giving him a hickey. Jake responded by giving the man's ear a love bite.

As the man's large hands began to caress Jake's chest, Jake tugged the man's shirt out of his trousers. It was already unbuttoned and he slipped it over the man's shoulders. His chest was solid muscle and densely furred. Jake ran his fingers through the thick, coarse hair in tight circles. The man, meanwhile, was massaging his smooth pecs and running his fingers in circles just beyond the areola of his nipples. Slipping farther down, the man kissed Jake's hairless chest, and then fastened his mouth to his right nipple. As he sucked on it, his right hand ran over Jake's left nipple, massaging it gently but firmly. Jake groaned with the assault on his nipples and lustfully worked the stranger's back muscles with his fingers. In no time both of Jake's nipples were hard and protruding. As the man finally drew away and half sat up, Jake saw that the man's teats were erect also.

"So," the man growled as he grinned down at Jake, "You like sex with men."

"Some men," Jake replied, raising his head and giving the man a lusty kiss. "And you like sex with men also," he said with a smile as he reached up and tweaked the man's firm nipples.

The man laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh. "Some men," he replied. "It would seem we are well matched."

"Let's find out," replied Jake as he reached down and untied the cord of the man's trousers. Quickly unlacing the man's fly, Jake pushed down the loose, baggy trousers. The man was wearing no underwear, and his cock was already semierect. Jake pushed the man's trousers on down and the man squirmed out of them.

The two began to run their hands over each other's body, caressing thighs and buttocks, chests and backs. They kissed and licked each other's body, and as their lust increased the kisses and licks became more frequent and forceful. Their lovemaking was urgent and lustful like two wild animals in rut, and yet it was loving and caring too. Jake had never made love to a black man before, but it had been one of his more favourite jerk off fantasies ever since he'd discovered the joys of male to male sex.

Now, being embraced and embracing another male of his own race far exceeded his greatest anticipation. He honestly had never felt a higher level of arousal than he did at that moment. Running his hands over the man's black skin, inhaling his unique, musky aroma, and tasting his sweat was making Jake ache from scalp to toe. Seeing and feeling the man's dark black hands caressing his smooth body, seeing his black hands against his black skin, sent ripples of pleasure through him. Jake reached down and cupped the man's massive balls and delighted in the feel of their weight. He wrapped his fingers about the man's throbbing cock and for the first time in his life the colour of his hand and his partner's cock matched. Perhaps to others that might seem insignificant, but for young Jake it doubled his delight. Placing one hand above the other, Jake was amazed, and delighted, to find the knob and a bit of shaft was still sticking out beyond his hands. That black beauty had to be at least eight inches, maybe even nine.

Finally rolling Jake over on his back, the man worked up a mouth of spittle and drooled it over his knob. As Jake watched the bubbly, white spit ooze down over the man's dark glans, his own mouth filled with saliva. The man smiled knowingly, and moving up closer, he told Jake to add his own spittle to the cock that was about to fuck him. Jake did so eagerly, and between the two of them, they soon had the man's raging, black cock fully lubricated.

Grabbing Jake's calves and raising his legs over his head so that his tight black buns were elevated in the air, the stranger knelt before him. As Jake reached up and grasped his ankles, the man reached down and placed his spittle-slick knob against Jake's eager hole. The stranger eased forward slowly, being gentle but at the same time unyielding. The two grunted and panted, and slowly the man's thick cock penetrated the hot, perspiring youth.

Jake's breath shuddered as he exhaled. The sensation of that thick, hard rod slowly penetrating him was awesome even though it was not the first time it had been stretched by a cock that size. He relaxed and pushed out with his sphincter to make it easier and less painful, but the saliva and the black man's skill made it unnecessary. Slowly Jake felt himself being stuffed with the nine-inch black sausage. Grinning down at him, the huge man slowly bent forward and the two kissed. He slowly began to gyrate his hips, easing his cock in and out of the boy's hot hole. The two began to perspire with their exertion and the heat of the jungle, and the odour of their sweat mingled and became one as the two of them worked as one toward a common goal.

As their desire increased, the two of them kissed more fervidly, forcing lips against lips, kissing cheeks and necks with growing excitement, first one taking the lead and then the other. The big man thrust his cock in and out of Jake's body with an urgent need now, rocking the youth on his back. Jake reached down and wanked his aching cock, eager to let off a load. His cockhead was burning, and so was his rectum. His partner's breathing suddenly changed, and anyone with experience would have known why. His entire body contracted and his hot seed shot up Jake's rectum. He grunted and shook with the delightful release.

Jake trembled also, with the joy of having his rectum filled with the black man's hot cum, with the joy of having been responsible for the man's delight, and with the ecstasy of his own release. His own cum erupted from his burning cock, flying through the air and striking his chest. Ropes of his hot, white juice erupted from his body and laced his black chest, striking his hard teats and oozing down his sweaty ribs. As the blasts subsided, the remaining shots struck his stomach in white blobs, and the last oozed out of his flushed black cock and over his fingers.

The man eased his now limp cock out of Jake's body and he lay down beside the boy. The two of them closed their eyes and revelled in the memory of their union as their heaving chests slowly calmed. The man finally got to his feet, and taking two plates from his packsack, handed one to Jake and motioned for him to join him. As they ate, the man introduced himself as Ekchuah, a merchant on his way to Kopocactyl. They ate with ravenous appetites, and when they were done, they had sex again with just as much force and lust as the first time, perhaps even more so now that their bellies were full.

Their foreplay was longer, the two of them kissing passionately and extending their tongues in each other's mouth. They caressed each other's buttocks, and ran their fingers along each other's cracks and massaged each other's butthole. When they became erect this time, it was Jake's stiff pole that was basted with their saliva. Watching the merchant bend forward and drool his spittle over his stiff cock was so erotic Jake had to hold back the urge to give free reign to the feelings and to explode untouched. Soon his cockhead and shaft were slick with slimy, white spittle.

Ekchuah lay on his back this time, and as the merchant elevated his butt, Jake knelt down and fasted his lips to the man's hole. His black ass tasted even better than the roasted venison, and Jake's mouth rapidly filled with saliva. He pressed his lips tight and blew his spittle up the squirming man's asshole. Before he removed his lips, Jake inhaled deeply, and the aroma of that black ass and the sweaty cord that extended between it and the man's massive balls made the teenager shudder with pleasure. Knowing he had to get on with it before his nuts exploded, Jake knelt before the black giant and placed his knob against the man's hot, prepared asshole. The man was as expert being buggered as he was doing the buggering. Jake's eight inches were soon buried up the hot black ass and his loins were pressing against the man's cheeks.

Jake began to fuck the merchant with as much enthusiasm and desire as he had been fucked earlier. He eased his eight inches in and out of the man's hot, pulsating hole, enjoying both the pleasure that brought him, and the pleasure it brought the merchant. As he worked his hips to and fro, Jake reached down and grasped Ekchuah's stiff black cock. It was as big as Gowran's, but lacking the Klingon's boney ridge, it felt totally different although it was hard and just as hot. Jake began to work his hand up and down the length of the thick shaft in time with the movement of his cock in and out of the man's rectum.

Jake was thoroughly enjoying this, and from the look on the black giant's face, so was he. If there was any doubt, it was soon erased as the man began to grunt and gasp with his approaching ejaculation, and Jake did likewise as he felt himself approaching his. He rocked back and forth on his knees faster and faster, driving his irritated, aching cock in and out of the man's hot, moist hole. He pumped furiously on the black man's long, thick cock. Finally the anticipated moment arrived. Jake lunged forward with a cry of ecstasy as his throbbing cock shot out his cum. At the same time Ekchuah released his load, his second load of cum just as copious as the first but thicker. The first white ropes streaked his black chest and the later blobs resulting from lessening force oozed over the curvature of his stomach or clung to his curly, black hairs. The two inhaled deeply and shuddered with their joint release. Jake bent forward and kissed the man on the mouth. It was a long, lingering kiss. The two snuggled together that night, content in mind and body.

"This, my blood, is for you, Camaxtli, God of Fate, so you may lead me on my quest and reveal to me my true self. And," Jake added with a whisper, "thank you for last night."

That morning Ekchuah gave Jake a pale tan, kidskin jock, a manta of the same colour with a design of two rainbow coloured parrots done in bright beads, and a pair of soft sandals to wear. When Jake protested that he could not accept such finery, the merchant insisted that it was a minor gift for the wonderful evening they had spent. Jake still protested but finally had to relent with the agreement he would tell others the name of the merchant from whom he had gotten such fine clothes. They headed for Kopocactyl in great spirits, although Jake was apprehensive and worried. He had no idea what he was to do once he got there, or if he should have indulged in the pleasures he'd had on the way.

Upon arriving, they separated, the merchant heading off to trade his merchandise and Jake wandering about the town aimlessly in search of some sign to tell him what to do next. Kopocactyl was a large town, at least ten times the size of Uxalpoctl, with the huts on the outskirts being small thatches but those closer in being made of stone and some type of mortar. As the day progressed and the sun began to set, Jake worried that he had somehow offended the Gods. He saw nothing that hinted what he was to do.

Then, in that early part of the evening, in the twilight when shadows stretch across the width of the courtyard and early revellers are lighting lamps to ward off the dusk, Jake spotted him, the most beautiful youth he had ever seen, a boy even more beautiful than Chilam, which Jake would never have believed possible. Skin of dark reddish-brown, like royal oak, long black hair that bounced and floated whenever he moved his head, and hazel eyes that at once sparkled with a childish mischievousness and smoldered with a hot teenage lust. He was wearing a white loincloth embroidered with bright green leaves and delicate red and blue flowers. A pale blue mantra was draped over his shoulders and held in place with a silver broach. He wore silver arm bands about his biceps, a thin gold necklace, and small silver studs in his ears. Jake forgot about his vision quest as he watched the youth, and despite the previous night's activities, he felt desire welling up in his groin. His constant vigilance for a sign and his worries that he might miss or misinterpret the message were immediately forgotten. As the youth wandered the marketplace Jake followed him. He paused frequently to talk. The youth seemed to know almost everyone, and everyone greeted him with a warm smile and embrace. That was not surprising considering even just his looks.

Arriving at the town square, the boy suddenly turned and his eyes and Jake's met for a moment. The youth smiled, his perfect white teeth gleaming in contrast to his dark lips, and Jake's knees went weak. The youth slowly walked over to Jake and placing his right hand on his left shoulder introduced himself as Yum Caax, son of a local farmer, in for the maize festival. Jake introduced himself, explaining he was on a vision quest. A look of disappointment passed over the boy's face and he apologized for interrupting him on his mission. When Jake replied that he was not interrupting anything at the moment, the boy's smile was even wider than the first and Jake's cock began to swell. Three musicians were standing at the far end of the square, one with a wooden apparatus that looked like a xylophone, the other two carrying gourd rattles, shell clappers, and willow whistles. Jake and his new friend listened to the musicians and watched several young men and their ladies dance to the music.

"Let's dance."

"Ah," Jake replied, glancing around for two unattached young women. There were none in sight. "I don't see anyone available."

"Very funny," the youth said with a wide grin, and taking Jake by the hand, he led him into the centre of the square before Jake could protest.

"Ah, I don't think I know the steps."

"There are no steps," the boy said with a sparkle in his eyes. "Just move with the music."

So saying, he began to slowly gyrate his hips and sway his shoulders. Before he drew attention to himself just standing there motionlessly, Jake began to do likewise. At first he was very self-conscious and he nervously glanced about, worried what others might be thinking of two men dancing. Realizing that nobody was paying any attention to them, he began to relax. It was a catchy rhythm and not unlike some of the calypso music he'd heard in New Orleans one time he'd visited his grandfather. Jake had a natural ear for music, and before long he was swaying and moving with the music, improvising his own steps as the tempo increased and decreased.

Yam Caax gyrated his hips suggestively and leered over at Jake seductively as he danced up close to him and rubbed his hip against Jake's before dancing a circle around him. Jake responded likewise, snaking his body and running his hands along his naked thighs. Like two strip artists putting on a private show, the two youths danced for each other, running their long fingers along their smooth, hairless chests and along their sinewy limbs. Jake felt himself becoming aroused but he did not care. In fact he smiled to himself as he thought of what the reaction of the revellers and market-goers would be if his hardon snapped the cord holding up his jock. The two boys danced openly and seductively, their eyes smoldering with desire, desire for each other.

There was no question about their feelings, and seeing them, the band purposefully increased the tempo to a feverish pitch. It was impossible not to notice the two handsome, dark- skinned youths and the revellers paused to admire their movements, and their half-naked bodies now glistening with sweat. They clapped in time with the music and laughed and cheered them on, sharing in their merriment. When the music finally stopped, the two youths embraced and leaned against each other for support, their young chests rapidly rising and falling as they gasped for fresh air. Several of those watching clapped, and it was only then that Jake realized they'd had an audience. For a split second he began to flush with embarrassment, but he was feeling too happy to really care, and from the look on the faces of those about him, there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

He and Yam Caax strolled along the market, walking hand in hand and stopping to admire or to further check out the merchandise on display. He had never walked hand in hand with another male before and again glanced about nervously, but seeing that they attracted no more attention than a handsome boy and beautiful girl might under the same circumstances, Jake quickly adapted. He was good at adapting, and the feeling of contentment and joy made this assimilation easy. Yum Caax bought a cluster of dark purple grapes and as they walked they fed each other. He bought Jake a thin necklace of woven silver at one of the market booths, and when Jake objected because he had no money himself to buy anything, Yum Caax replied that he would think of some way that Jake could pay him later. The glimmer in his eyes and the slight curl of his lips left no doubt what he had in mind, and the delight in Jake's eyes and his wide smile left no doubt what the teenager from Earth thought of the idea.

Arriving at the booth of a young male artisan, Jake commented that since he was already in debt, if Yum Caax would advance him a loan he would like to buy him something. He selected a pair of rainbow coloured burettes made of feathers and shaped like parrots to hold back the youth's long, soft hair. They sat on the open patio of a restaurant and shared a hearty plate of stew consisting of fresh garden vegetables, chicken, and hot peppers in a thick brown gravy which they mopped up with freshly baked cornbread. They continued to stroll the market drinking from hollowed-out coconuts, maize curd spiced with hot chili peppers.

They walked with their arms about each other's waist, and occasionally they embraced and exchanged pecks on the cheek, and occasionally they even caressed each other's smooth, rounded butt. Nobody paid them any more attention than they would a pair of any other lovers. They returned to the town square and danced some more and talked. As they gave their legs a rest they snacked on a flaky pastry consisting of honey and nuts alternating with layers of thin cookie dough, and they drank fermented passionberry juice. For Jake, it was the most wonderful evening he had ever spent in his life. It would not have mattered if the evening had not ended in sex. He was deliriously happy and contented with himself just being himself. He and the youth at his side were not lovers. They were kindred spirits, two young men who shared beliefs and a life style that were as unique and marvellous as they were precious.

They did have sex, or a more appropriate description would be that they made love, hot passionate, wonderful love. There in an open niche in the jungle, beneath the full Dorvanian moon, the two youths stood and embraced and kissed. Their kisses were soft and sweet, and as they pressed their bodies close to each other and caressed each other's soft, smooth flesh, their lips touched ever so lightly and they inhaled each other's sweet breath. Their hands glided over each other's hips and untied the sashes that held up loincloth and jock. Their mantas were laid on the ground end to end and they lay upon them and kissed and caressed, fingers running over smooth, naked bodies, one ebony and the other a dark reddish-brown, both with dark-skinned hands and light-skinned palms.

They caressed each other's silky balls and fondled each other's limp cock, carefully and reverently drawing back the skin and gently caressing the sensitive, exposed knob. As kisses progressed from tender lips down over smooth, young chests to savour and delight in each other's tender nubs, their breathing began to grow heavy. As their lips continued, following the hollow between their breasts and ribs, they paused at each other's belly button and tongues darted out to savour and delight before the boys continued on over young flat stomachs to their goal.

Jake inhaled deeply, delighting in the fragrance of the handsome youth's genitals, allowing the uniquely scented air to fill his lungs and ignite his passion. He nuzzled close, rubbing his nose against the silky, damp skin of Yum Caax's balls, inhaling deeply and allowing the heady fragrance to make his mind spin. He kissed them, the right and the left, and ran his tongue over them. He slipped his lips over the lower one and sucked on it gently, and then releasing it, he did the same to the right.

Yum Caax sighed deeply with the sensations passing over him as Jake licked and sucked his balls. He too nuzzled the black youth's testicles and delighted in their scent. They were much larger than his own, as dark as the rest of the youth's skin, and smelled delicious. He nibbled on them and delighted to feel them roll in their loose skin in response to his kisses. He nuzzled his nose in the boy's curly black hairs and felt the boy's cock swell against his cheek. He slipped his lips over the knob of the still limp black sausage and let it lay there on his tongue, allowing just the warm and moistness of his mouth to arouse it. He savoured the taste of that slowly swelling boy meat, the spicy taste of black sausage, and he savoured the joy of knowing he was turning the handsome youth on.

Jake was getting aroused, and he knew his new found companion was also as the boy's cock began to lift up. The boy was uncut and as his cock began to engorge with blood the loose foreskin began to slip down over the knob. Jake stuck out his tongue and ran it along the length of the growing tube of teenage meat, causing it to growth even faster. Soon it was erect and sticking out at a ninety-degree angle to the youth's body. The foreskin had slid back to form a collar below the knob and Jake now reached out and stretched it the rest of the way back. The boy's cock was the same dark reddish-brown as the rest of his body, becoming more red than brown just under the knob, which itself was a darker hue than the shaft.

Jake slipped his lips over that inviting boy tube and in doing so it throbbed in eagerness. He eased his lips farther down, taking in the knob and half the shaft. He delighted in the thought of having the boy's cock in his mouth, the idea alone causing his own cock to throb and the first of his precum to ooze out of the tip. Tightening his lips about the youth's hot, firm reddish- brown dick, Jake sucked on it gently and ran his tongue over the mushroom cap. He was rewarded with a dollop of the youth's own precum, a droplet of pure honey.

Having similarly savoured Jake's first offer of precum, Yum Caax also began to suck on the thick, black cock filling his mouth, hoping to draw out more of the delightful boy nectar. So the two naked youths lay there in the moonlight savouring the taste of each other and delighting in the marvellous experience of arousing and satisfying another boy while being aroused and satisfied himself. That was what making love to another boy was all about. It had nothing to do with procreation or survival of the species. It had nothing to do with spousal obligations or societal expectations. It had nothing to do with satisfying oneself, nor one's duty to satisfy another's needs.

No, this was none of those things. This was a sharing, a sharing of love, a sharing of pleasure. This was about joining and melding as one. This was acting together with such a common bond, that the two became indistinguishable. This was about existing together as one. They were two interlocking pieces forming a single whole. The two boys were of the same mind, and of the same will. Each delighted in the sight and the feel of the male body, each delighted in his and the other's masculinity, and together, they celebrated their gayness.

Jake worked his lips up and down the reddish-brown cock as Yum Caax worked his lips up and down his. The pleasure of being sucked off and the pleasure of sucking another flowed into one indescribable level of ecstasy for each boy. Both were a long time reaching their orgasm, not surprising for Jake considering his recent activities, and he suspected for the youth delighting in his throbbing, black cock this was a skill he had perfected.

As Jake felt the tension building in his groin as he finally approached his climax, and as the ridge of his glans burned and itched with that combination of pleasure and pain, he knew instinctively that Yum Caax was feeling exactly the same. As the Mayan descendant kept up the suction and worked his moist mouth up and down the hot, rigid black cock of the Afro-American, as he savoured the taste of that throbbing male organ and delighted in bringing it pleasure, he knew that the same thoughts and feelings were flowing through Jake. That sensitivity and awareness were a part of what being gay was all about. The union of male with male that went beyond the physical, that included minds and souls also, was only possible for those who truly accepted themselves.

The two youths moaned simultaneously, signalling each other that they could no longer hold back. Hot teen juice finally gushed up the two throbbing cocks and spurted into eagerly awaiting mouths. Throb after throb of creamy white cum spurted out of the two organs, one black, one dark reddish-brown. Two mouths eagerly swallowed the slimy offering and two tongues savoured the unique taste of boy. As hot cum spurted into the one boy, his own hot cum spurted into the other. The two youths trembled with the delightful dual orgasm, theirs and their partners. They grasped each other's hot, naked buttocks tightly as they filled and were filled with that delightful and unique cream. Like a circle with no beginning and no end, they throbbed out their creamy juice while they swallowed the other's.

Afterwards they lay there side by side, arm in arm. They marvelled at the joy that only two men can know. They kissed tenderly and fondly, lips meeting and parting with gentle thanks. Two pairs of hands caressed warm, soft buttocks. Two pairs of hands moved up to caress smooth, hairless chests. Their postclimatic play gradually became foreplay. The kisses of gratitude and love became kisses of desire and lust. Fingers lovingly caressing damp, sensitive balls marked the commencement of a new round of lovemaking. Warm cocks, soft and sticky- tipped, began to swell. Desires began to well up in youthful loins.

Their foreplay was more extended this second time. Yum Caax massaged Jake's feet as the trembling boy buried his face between Yum Caax's reddish-brown cheeks and licked the youth's delightful pucker. The Dorvanian youth inhaled the delightful aroma of the black boy's feet and kissed and sucked on his long black toes as he felt Jake's hot tongue lap at his asshole and try to worm inside. Feeling the youth's hot mouth envelop his feet made Jake suck even harder on his hole.

Eventually their mouths worked back up to each other's genitals. Once again lips fastened on erect, aching cocks, once again moist mouths enveloped eager flesh, and once again the two boys gave suck and sucked simultaneously. They delighted in the physical pleasure of being sucked and of sucking cock, and they delighted in the mental joy of being pleasured and of pleasuring another. For a second time their young nuts tightened, and for a second time they spurted out their seed and accepted the other's. They were young and it was a perfect night.

When they were done, they lay again nestled in each other's arms. Jake sighed with a contentment he had never before known. Above his head he saw a large diamondback snake slither along the tree branch.

"Happy?" asked Yum Caax.

"Deliriously," replied Jake with a wide grin.

"Why?"

"Because I love men."

"That is obvious," the youth said with a smile.

Jake kissed him softly on the lips and then leaned back. "What I mean is that that is my nature," he said as he watched the diamondback wrap its body about the tree branch. "Whether I was born to love men, or came to love men because of my experiences, whether it was by destiny or by chance, it does not matter. What matters is that today I choose this life. This is the life I want to lead."

The diamondback hung down from the tree, and then began to shimmer. Jake watched as if transfixed as the snake became a bright shimmering light and began to pulsate. "I am Itzamna, Lord of Knowledge," came a voice from inside the shape, a deep resonating voice, and Jake knew it was the voice of a God even though he had never heard a God speak before. "It is time for the naming. Will anyone speak for the naming of this youth?"

"I will speak for him," came a youthful voice from the branches above. It was the voice of a young boy. Jake looked up into the trees, and finally spotted the eight-year-old he had met in the downpour sitting on an overhanging branch. He grinned down at Jake with his tooth-gapped grin and swung his feet. He was still totally naked, and holding the wooden spear in one hand while he fingered his little erection with the other. "When I first met this nameless one, he was denying what he was, but while I was with him he celebrated his maleness with me, and when I left him he had accepted in his male sexuality."

As the boy spoke Jake had the impression the child was not really what he appeared to be. The boy was right though. Even though he had known that he was gay for some time, he had always found excuses for his behaviour. He and Nog were just experimenting, Salene had just been an infatuation, his relationship with Gowran was only a ritual bonding. . . . Homosexuality was something disgusting, something people did not talk about, and in many cases something outright forbidden, so even though he knew he was gay he had denied it, consciously or subconsciously, and along with the denial he had denied his male sexuality.

Being a boy again that day in the rain changed all that. He had delighted in being a boy when he was a boy, and would not have wanted to be anything different. His delight in the innocence and joy of playing with himself and the pleasure his penis brought that afternoon in the rain reminded him of that. Now he was a man, and he delighted in being a man, and being in the company of other men. He would not want it to be different.

"I will speak for him," came an ancient, weak voice that Jake recognized immediately. Slowly stepping out of the darkness of the jungle on wobbly legs was the corpulent old man he had buried. Considering the appearance of the boy, the appearance of the dead man was only mildly surprising to Jake. "When I first met this nameless one, he worried about the opinions and disapproval of others, and allowed what others thought about him to determine his actions, but while I was with him he made love with me openly and with compassion and with disregard to what others felt, and when I left him he was no longer afraid of what others thought. He has accepted his fate in his heart."

The old man was right too. He had been afraid of what others would think of him until he saw the love that existed between the old man and his young lover, until he realized that if he wanted that type of relationship he would have to ignore the opinions and beliefs of others. To prefer the love of men over women was his fate, and he would no longer let others detract him from it for that was what he wanted.

"I too will speak for him," came a booming voice as the merchant he had met strode out of the jungle. "When I first met this nameless one, he was frightened by his homosexuality. He knew little of such a life style and was afraid of the unknown, and even more afraid of the power of his feelings for other men and his anger against those who would eliminate his kind, but while I was with him he learned there was nothing to fear. He learned how to control and use that anger and power, and when I left him he was no longer afraid of his homosexuality."

He hadn't realized it until then, but the merchant was right. The idea of being gay had frightened him, because he did not understand it, because everyone said it was forbidden and wrong although to him it was delightful and good. The merchant had helped him see that being gay was not something disgusting or something to hide. He helped him realize the raw power that underlay his homosexuality, and to understand how that power and determination could be used.

"And I will speak for him," announced the youth beside him as he got to his feet. "When I first met this nameless one, he was unhappy being gay and behaved accordingly. He was bitter because others knew who they were and what they wanted. He knew who he was and what he wanted too, but he could not admit it, not to himself, and even more so not to others. However, while I was with him he delighted in his homosexuality, and knew that he was free to choose this life or to deny it. You heard his declaration and his choice."

That was true. Being gay was not what he was, it was who he was, and he was proud of whom he was. The night he had just spent had been the most delightful night he had ever had. He had said this was the life he chose to lead, and he had meant it. He was gay and glad that he was.

"Then stand and be named," said the voice of Itzamna. Jake got to his feet and stood there naked before the God. "You have faced your fears, and have accepted what you have seen. You know now your true self. Know now your true name. From henceforth you shall be known as Ekbalam, Black Jaguar Spirit."

"You have proven yourself, Ekbalam," said the eight-year-old as he swung his feet. "So say I, Backlum Chaam, God of Male Sexuality."

"God? But you are a boy," Jake dared to observe.

"So are all men inside," the boy replied with a tooth-gapped smile.

"You have proven yourself, Ekbalam," said the ancient man. "So say I, Camaxtli, God of Fate."

So, the corpulent old man was the God of Fate after all. He was not the image Jake had of a God either, but it had been appropriate. As he glanced over at the merchant, he figured the Gods likely chose whatever form they wanted to.

"You have proven yourself, Ekbalam," said the merchant. "So say I, Ekchuah, Black War Chief, God of War and Fallen Warriors, Patron of Merchants."

"You have proven yourself, Ekbalam," said the youth he'd just had sex with. "So say I, Yum Caax, Lord of the Woods, God of Maize and Agriculture, and of Perfect Male Beauty."

"Know then your name, and your true purpose," said Itzamna as the bright light began to approach Jake.

He was momentarily blinded and then the five gods began to fade, and after them, the forest. Jake blinked his eyes, and found himself sitting in the lava cave. The green twig was there on the floor before him but all of the leaves had been plucked, and the candles, still in their places, had long ago burnt down to nothing. At first he wondered if this all had been a dream, a hallucination existing only in his mind. As he rubbed his chin, he noticed the thin silver ring he'd received from the God of Fate and then about his neck the silver chain from Yum Caax. At his feet were the pale tan, kidskin jock, the manta with rainbow coloured parrots, and the pair of soft sandals from Ekchuah and his small sack. He opened it up and removing the polished stone, he turned it in his fingers and admired the colouration. Backlum Chaam had not left it behind by accident.

Jake smiled. Yes, he knew now his true self. Chance and Destiny had combined to make him what he was, and would continue to determine what he would be, but he'd always had a say in it even if he hadn't realized, and he always would, but now with more purpose. When one knew one's destiny, one could choose his path accordingly. Or as Itzamna had explained to him, "We become what we most think we will become." As he had left, the God of Knowledge had touched Jake's mind for a fraction of a second. In that moment that their minds had touched Itzamna had told him much, about the nature of man, and about himself and his new name.

The Balamob, the Black Jaguar Spirits, were traditionally four, and protected villages and households from evil spirits. The Balam was benevolent but feared, acting as a guardian and protector. So was Jake in this time one of four guardians. In this recurring cycle of creation and destruction he had a role to play. It was his lot in life to defend and to promote homosexuality. It was appropriate that Itzamna, creator of writing, would be the one to tell him in that fraction of a second that their minds had met that through his writing and his actions he would lead the Federation and the worlds of his time to a better future.

Jake had always been different. He had always been proud of that and unafraid of marching to his own drummer. His conviction of his beliefs and his ability to forge his own path had always been strengths of his. He realized now that facing the fact that he was gay had meant facing the fact that once again he was different from others, this time in a very significant and frightening way. He had momentarily been afraid to admit that difference, to risk the friendships he had developed on DS9, but he knew now if they were true friendships they would not be at risk.

Jake also knew now that difference was not a threat. It was a strength. His creativity and artistic genius, his sensitivity and compassion for others, and his sexual identity were linked. One could not exist without the other. They were what made him what he was, and his unique skills could be put to good use. Putting on his jock and manta and picking up his small sack of belongings, Jake got to his feet and headed for the entrance of the cave. Ekbalam, Black Jaguar Spirit, had places to go, and choices to make.