Billy staring at him. Staring intently. Eyes wide, electric.
Eyes that weren't entirely sane. Although he was frightened by it, he
returned the stare-and was plunged into an hallucinogenic experience.
He imagined he was rising out of his body, felt as if he were floating
toward Billy. And as he floated, he shrank until he was so small he
could tumble into those eyes. Knowing that it was an illusion in no way
detracted from the impact of it; he could have sworn that he actually
was sinking into Billy's eyes, sinking down,down....
His climax was considerably more than a biological function; it joined
him to the whore on a physical level, but it also tied him to Billy on a
much higher plane. He spurted deep into her vagina, and precisely at
that moment Billy spilled seed into her mouth. In the throes of an
intense orgasm, Bollinger had the odd notion that he and Billy had grown
incredibly inside of the girl, had swelled and lengthened until they
were touching at the center of her. Then he went one step further, lost
all awareness of the woman; so far as he was concerned, he and Billy
were the only people in the room. In his mind he saw them standing with
the tips of their organs pressed together, ejaculating into each other's
penis. The image was powerful but strangely asexual. There was
certainly nothing homosexual about it.
Absolutely nothing. He wasn't queer. He had no doubt about that.
None at all. The imaginary act that preoccupied him was similar to the
ritual by which members of certain American Indian tribes had once
become blood brothers. The Indians cut their hands and pressed the cuts
together; because they believed that the blood flowed from the body of
one into that of the other, they felt that they would be part of each
other forever. Bollinger's bizarre vision was like the Indians'
bloodbrother ceremony. It was an oath, a most sacred bond.
And he knew that a metamorphosis had taken place; henceforth, they were
not two men but one.
Now, feeling incomplete without Billy beside him, he reached the
elevator cab and switched it on.
Connie clamhered through the window, onto the thirty-eighth-floor
setback.
Graham quickly tied the free end of the hundred foot main line to her
harness.
I 'Ready?' she asked.
'Not quite.'
His hands were getting numb. His fingertips stung, and his knuckles
ached as if they were arthritic.
He tied carabiners to both ends of one of the five-foot pieces of rope
he had cut. He snapped both carabiners to a metal ring on her harness.
The rope between them looped all the way to her knees.
He clipped the hammer to the accessory strap on the waist belt of her
harness.
'What's all this for?' she asked.
'The next setback is five stories down. Looks about half as wide as
this one. I'll lower you the same way I got you here. I'll be anchored
to the window post.'
He tugged on his own five-foot tether. 'But we don't have time to rig a
