Gap [1] The Real Story: The Gap into Conflict by Stephen R. Donaldson

thought they could beat me.
    “My roommate was supposed to be a good example. One of their big successes. They got him for lifting paper from his stepfather’s wallet, and after only five years in reform school he was on the path of virtue. They wanted him to help reform me.
    “His name was Scarl. He was a big fucker—the kind of illegal who eats shit and smiles. Lots of teeth. He wanted to reform me, for sure. Anything to make himself look good. He already figured out the way to beat them was be their little darling, make them think he was sugar—make them take care of him. I was his big chance to show off.
    “It was pathetic. He sure did want me to believe he was my friend. So he made a big deal out of taking care of me. Taught me how the school worked. Didn’t let the big shits pound me. Showed me how to get perks—how to lift treats—how to be on the nice-kid list. After a whole day of him every day, I wanted to puke.
    “But I got him.” Angus had arrived at the part of the memory he liked. “I got him. Good old Scarl never knew what hit him.
    “We had lockers. It was supposed to be good for kids to have something private. Everybody hid the keys, like what was in the lockers was precious. But he wasn’t good at hiding things. I took his.
    “Then I raided some of their rooms, the cops’. Lifted a bunch of small stuff—vials of nerve-juice, fancy pens, whatever I found. And one of them had a really great collection of dirty pictures.” He bared his teeth at Morn. “That’s where I still get most of my ideas.”
    She didn’t react, however.
    “I put it all in Scarl’s locker, locked it up. Then I put his key back. He never missed it.
    “Next morning they went crazy. They stormed into all our rooms. Made us give up our keys and stand there naked until they got around to searching our lockers.
    “When he saw all that stuff in his locker, good old Scarl fainted.”
    Angus forced a guffaw, but it wasn’t particularly successful. For some reason, the pleasure of what he’d done to Scarl had lost its flavor. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, as if someone had cheated him.
    Trying to muster relish for his story, he concluded, “Those dirty pictures finished him. They were too embarrassing for the school. He got shipped out. Maybe they sent him to the big boys’ lockup.” Unfortunately, he felt no relish. “I got put in a room with a bunch of motherfuckers who liked to cornhole me when they didn’t have anything better to do.
    “It was like that until I finally got a chance to break out and get away.”
    Her stare hadn’t shifted. She was still peering at him darkly over her kneecaps, still waiting. When he stopped, she watched him scowl for a while. Then she asked, “What does that have to do with me?”
    “Huh?” He’d forgotten her question.
    “You betrayed your roommate.” Her voice was husky with the stress of all the things he’d done to her. “But he was the one who protected you. Betraying him probably hurt you worse than it did him. What does it have to do with me?”
    Cursing the loss of his expansive mood, Angus sealed his shipsuit. “It felt good. That’s what it has to do with you. It felt good.”
    He started to leave in disgust; his back was turned when she said softly, thinly, “Stop this.”
    He paused.
    “So far you’ve got ‘authorized use.’ For this zone implant. I’ll testify to that. I’ll say you had to do it. To save both of us. Just stop this. Just stop.”
    Angus turned to look at her, but now she was not looking at him.
    “What happened to being a cop? What happened to all those threats? I thought you were going to find some way to do me in.”
    “I’m afraid,” she murmured as if she were pleading. “I want to live.”
    The way she clutched her knees and hid her features suddenly gave him the impression she’d come face-to-face with an essential cowardice.
    “I’ll crew for you back to Com-Mine Station. I’ll testify—I’ll say you did the