[b]A discovery[/b]
      Jeremy looked around the room. Everything as finally in it's place. He needed to find a way to keep the place clean, instead of going on a cleaning binge every few month. The only thing left to clean out was his closet, which he hadn't done since arriving to the station all those years ago.

      He opened it, looked at the boxes and uniforms piled in it half hazardly, and sighed. He'd have to be careful, cleaning the closet could easily end up messing up his room again. He took out the uniforms, and put the pile on his bed, then the boxes, one at a time, and placed them in a line on the floor.

      When he came to the last one, he stopped. It wasn't a box, it as a carrying case, one he didn't remember bringing. He sat in front of it, and opened it. Out spilled drawing materials, pencils and charcoals, blank papers, and papers with drawings on them.

      He vaguely remembered drawing in his youth, but now, other than schematics, the most he did was doodles on his datapad when bored. Still, he couldn't remember packing these, or bringing them with him. 

      He looked through the drawings, one of his mother, smiling, of his father with his ever present frown, one with a rare smile. Drawings of his brothers and sister, of people he didn't remember, neighbors maybe? He was surprised at how well drawn they were.

      Then drawings of kelsirians, a good numbers of them. He had vague memories of drawing his family, and other people, but when had he drawn kelsirians? He couldn't remember ever seeing any, until he'd been introduced to Querik and Growler. He had drawn crowds of them, and some solitary portraits. 

      He looked at the next drawing and covered it up immediately. He slowly uncovered it, telling himself he couldn't have seen what he had, but no, he'd drawn a naked male kelsirian. More than one he saw as he flipped through the next half dozen drawing. The next one made his stomach twist.

      He closed his eyes, opened his box and shoved the anxiety in it. He looked at it again, the drawing depicted him, there was no mistaking his younger looks, having sex with a male kelsirian, the next four were of them, in varying positions.

      He stood, trying to breathe. Could he really have drawn these? When he was a teenager? He wasn't a homo, he couldn't be. He'd read that the condition existed among some of the alien races, but it didn't among humans.

      And why couldn't he remember drawing them? 

      He put the drawings back in the case, picked it up and headed to the door to talk to... Who could he talk to about this? He couldn't talk to the people he knew. He couldn't burden them with this, and what would they say. The same things he already knew, he couldn't have drawn them, and if he had, then he was sick. Could he talk with Omar about this? What if he reached the conclusion he was a homo? What would they do to him? Damn it, there wasn't anyone he knew he could talk with.

      He stopped his pacing.

      That wasn't true, he realized. He did know someone. He didn't know if kelsirians had homos among them, but ambassador Querik had helped him once, surly he would again. Maybe talking with him would help him make sense of things.

      * * * * *

      The door to the ambassador's quarter opened as Jeremy reached for the buzzer.

      "Hello Jeremy," he said, standing in the doorway.

      "I'm sorry to disturb you ambassador, could I talk with you?"

      Querik smiled. "You are not disturbing me at all, please come in."

      "Weren't you on your way out? You opened the door before I got here."

      "No, no. I wasn't going anywhere. I was waiting for you."

      Jeremy eyed him. "Why?" he stayed in the doorway.

      "I'll explain in a moment. Why don't you come in, and and tell me what is troubling you." Querik indicated the seats in the living room.

      Jeremy hesitated a moment, then entered. He sat, opened the case and handed the drawings to the ambassadors.

      "Those are quite good," Querik said, looking at the ones on top. "You are talented."

      Jeremy shrugged. "Keep going."

      Querik tilted an ear back and looked at him for a moment, but went back to looking through the drawings. He looked up at him again when he came to the kelsirians. He looked at all of them, before saying anything. "You drew these." It was a statement.

      "I think so. I mean I can sort of remember drawing the ones you looked at before, those of my family, and these are in the same style, but I don't remember drawing them, and I couldn't have. I wouldn't have."

      "Why do you say that?"

      Jeremy took a deep breath. "Do you have homos, in your society?"

      "Homos?" Querik asked, and Jeremy pointed to the drawings. "You mean males who have sex with males?" Jeremy nodded. "Yes, we do."

      Jeremy stood and started pacing. "Well, we don't. So I couldn't have drawn that. There's no way I would have drawn myself having sex with another male."

      "Why do you say that humans don't have them?"

      "Because it's well known. It's an alien condition. We've never had any homos in our society, ever."

      Querik watched him pace for a moment. "Why did you come to see me?"

      "Because I needed to talk to someone, and I can't talk to anyone I know here." Jeremy stopped. "How did you know I was coming?"

      "Please sit."

      Jeremy sat.

      "I knew you were coming, because I expected something of this sort to happen. Before I continue, I want you to understand that what I say, I don't say to offend you, or to corrupt you, or to make you into something you are not. I am hoping to provide answers to why you feel the way you do, why you have been having anxiety attacks, as well as your stomach trouble, and maybe explain why you drew those drawings."

      Jeremy frowned at him, but nodded.

      "You say that males who have sex with males, homos, as you call them, don't exist in your society. That is false."

      "How can you say that?" Jeremy exclaimed. "How would you even know that? Have you read our history? Have you hidden on earth, to see those things?"

      "No, I haven't. I know, because I heard the subliminal programing, when you gave me the tour."

      "What do you mean, I didn't hear anything special."

      "Kelsirian hearing reaches a higher range than human. So I can hear what is just at the edge of your range, things you don't quite realize you are hearing. Those things went on at length about how homos are wrong, sick, not right."

      "That can't be right. There aren't any homos among humans."

      "There is something else. I am a mentalist. I can hear your mind," Querik added at Jeremy's confusion. "When I helped you with your anxiety, I saw something in your mind that . . ."

      "You were in my mind?" Jeremy shot up. "Did you do this to me?"

      "No, Jeremy, I didn't. It's against the mentalist's code, and even if I had wanted to, I'm not strong enough to make the changes needed needed to alter a personality so drastically."

      Jeremy glared at him. "I trusted you."

      "I haven't betrayed your trust. All I did reinforce what you were focusing on, reinforcing the box, making it more solid, more real in your mind. I did nothing more, but I saw something. I don't know what it is, but it resonated with the subliminal broadcasted across the part of the station you live in. The cube I gave you, was to block them. The subliminals in your room were stronger."

      Jeremy looked at him. "Is that's why I've been sleeping better since then? You said it was just to help me relax."

      Querik offered a reassuring smile. "I didn't think you would use it, if I'd told you the truth."

      Jeremy nodded, thinking. "The thing you saw in my mind, do you know what caused it?"

      "No, but I think that, if you will let me, I can help you explore your memories, the answer may be there."

[b]A memory[/b]

      Jeremy lay back in the ambassador's bowl shaped bed, Querik knelt at his head.

      "Close your eyes, and focus on one of the drawings, your mother, or maybe your siblings. Try to recall yourself drawing it." He touched Jeremy's mind, and watched the almost imperceivable image of a hand, holding a charcoal pencil, and tracing on paper. The memory as trying to form, but something was holding it back.

      Querik traced it back to a part of Jeremy's mind that was harder, crystalline. The wisps of the memory were coming though a tiny crack in what Querik perceived as a wall. He pushed at the crack and, with effort, made it larger. More wisps escaped and the image became solid. With it more images appeared at the periphery of Jeremy's consciousness.

      "Oh wow, I remember drawing this. I was practicing for a portrait of my sister, I was going to draw her for her birthday."

      "Good. Now let your mind wander. Let it connect to other memories that are linked to this one. Don't try to force it, let your subconscious do the work."

      A memory of Jeremy drawing a kelsirian moved to the center. And the crack started shrinking. Querik had to work at keeping that from happening. Something behind the wall didn't want Jeremy to remember this. There was a quick flash of a memory of him drawing himself having sex with a kelsirian, and then he was drawing his brother.

      Sound came with this one, faint, in the distance. No, Querik realized, not in the distance, blocked. He forced the crack wider and the voices became clear.

      "Did you see that?" Jeremy's father said. He wasn't visible, and while Jeremy was hearing it, he had been concentrating on the drawing.

      "It's just a drawing. It doesn't mean anything." His mother replied.

      "How can you say that. What he's drawing isn't normal."

      "It's just a drawing. He's young, he's just seeing what he's capable of doing."

      "It isn't just one. There's at least half a dozen like that in his book. I'm telling you, there's something wrong with that boy of yours. We have to take him to a specialist."

      The memory shifted, Jeremy was now seated on a comfortable chair, in a plain doctor's office. It wasn't his usual doctor. The doctor put things on his head, and asked him questions. He also had him watch images on a screen. When that was done he went to another room to talk with his parents.

      Fabricated fear assailed Jeremy then. Something was telling him he didn't want to know what they were talking about. Querik opened his month to say something, but the box appeared in Jeremy's mind, and he pushed the fear in it.

      "I'm afraid you were right," the doctor said, "he does have the condition."

      There was a gasp from his mother.

      "I knew it," his father said.

      "We have to treat him," the doctor said.

      "Do you?" his mother asked. "What if we make sure he isn't exposed to those things again. Surely that would be enough."

      The thing behind the wall fought against Jeremy remembering, but Querik didn't have to fight back. Jeremy was forcing the crack wider by himself. He wanted to know what was hidden behind the wall. Now that he had seen hints, he needed to know what was behind the wall.

      "I'm afraid it isn't that simple. If it isn't treated, he will deteriorate quickly. It isn't just a case of of making sure he avoids exposure, the sickness is in his mind, and if we don't do something, it will eat at him. In a few year he'll be so bad that . . . Trust me, you don't want to see what happens to them if untreated."

      "How successful is the treatment?" his father asked

      "With regular supervision, he will be completely cured."

      "Supervision?" his mother asked.

      "Yes. The treatment he will undergo here will repair the damage that's been done to this point, but this sickness has been in him for a long time, you just hadn't realized it. So there is always a chance it could reestablish itself. We'll assign him a specialist that will be able to see the signs and provide treatment if needed."

      "I see." His mother's voice was weak.

      "Do it." His father said.

      "Something else you need to remember. Your son's current personality has been formed around the sickness, and shaped by it. Once we've repaired the damage, his personality will change."

      "How much?" his father asked.

      "There's no way to know. He's still young, so it probably won't be a major change, but you shouldn't be surprise if his likes and dislikes aren't the same."

      "Okay." His father again.

      "Good. Then leave him with us. I promise that once we are done you son will be as good as new."

      Stop! The thing behind the wall said. There's only pain. Nothing good will come of remembering.

      Enough! Jeremy's voice boomed inside his own head, loud enough that Querik's ears rang. No more secret, no more hidden. NO MORE! The wall was filled with a spider web of cracks, and then it shattered, letting the memories pour in.

      Jeremy fought to get out of the bed, and then ran for the bathroom. He didn't make it. He fell to his knees and threw up in the doorway. He struggled to get up and went to the sink to wash his mouth. He rested against the sink for a moment, before grabbing a towel and cleaning up his mess. Once done he threw it as hard as he could in the sink

      "How could they do that to me? I was fourteen years old. I was just a kid and they tortured me for weeks. Why? Jut because I drew myself having sex with another guy? What the fuck is wrong with them?"

      Querik remained silent for a moment. "Your parents couldn't know what they would do to you."

      "I know." His voice was hollow. "it's not them I'm pissed at. I... I don't know what I feel about them right now. But those so called doctors? What right did they have to do that to me? And how about here? My stomach pain, my anxiety. That was all a response to the programing they tortured into me. Each time my subconscious thought about men, not me, my subconscious, the pain would come. Fuck! I should go and tell them what I think of them, right now!"

      "You can't." Querik said calmly. "Obviously, they have the approval of your government. The reinforcement system is too wide spread to be the work of a few maverick doctors."

      "So what? I'm just suppose to ignore what they did to me?"

      "No, but now you can make a decision free of their influence. I recommend that you wait until you are calmer, before you make a decision. If you decide to fight your government, know that I will help you in any way I can."

      "Thanks," Jeremy's anger subsided. "This is going to sound weird, but do you mind if I sleep here tonight? I really don't feel comfortable going back to my quarters."

      "Not at all. You are welcome here when ever you feel the need."