Office of the President, Megalodon City, Tundra, Standard Year 404 after founding

  Tony waited calmly in the reception room to the presidential suite, enjoying the comfort of one of the overstuffed leather chairs. In the end, there was no need to rush. The president’s schedule was too full to squeeze him in at random. He stretched out his foot, trying to ignore the new ache. A few minutes later, the secretary came by, wordlessly handing him a cup of coffee and two painkillers. The secret service agent had left, presumably trusting him to stay and make his report once he’d been brought in. And the man was right, at that. By Tony’s estimate, there was a fine balance to be achieved here, between being so cooperative that the president would not take his concerns seriously and being so non cooperative that Jim was too damn pissed to listen. He hoped he got it right. There wouldn’t be much room for mistakes.

  “Would you like anything else?” The secretary asked.

  “No. I’m good.” Tony nodded in the other man’s general direction and went back to nursing his cup of coffee. The president had great coffee.

  The sun was long gone by the time he was invited back into the presidential suite, his boots echoing across the polished, gleaming dark floors of Tundran wood, the sound of his limp more pronounced as his leg stiffened up. Without much ceremony, Tony collapsed into one of the chairs across from the president, stretching out his leg to get more comfortable. “Sir.” He said shortly, rubbing the bandage covering the bloody scab at the side of his neck with some annoyance.

  Jim Hawk’s eyebrows climbed up in surprise. “Are you all right?” He asked.

  “Nothing that won’t heal, sir.” Tony said shortly.

  “You took damage.” Jim Hawk observed. That had been unexpected.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “One of the guards?”

  “No, sir. A broken bottle and a fork, as it turned out, sir.”

  “I see.” Jim Hawk said flatly. “Lieutenant Summers, I take it?”

  “One and only.”

  “So, the lieutenant that’s so very famous for surrendering… chose to fight.”

  “Oh yeah. She chose to fight. She sends her regards, by the way.” Tony said with a slight smile.

  “Does she now?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Through you?”

  “Just the messenger, sir.”

  “An unexpectedly cooperative one.”

  “I run hot and cold, sir.”

  “Especially so today.”

  “Right you are, sir.”

  “What the hell happened, Tony?”

  “Got shot in the back. Also stabbed in the neck, near my eye, and bitten by a dog. Hell of a mission, sir.”

  “And the outcome?”

  “Failure across the board, sir.” Tony said flatly.

  “I see.” Jim Hawk leaned back in his chair, observing the other man carefully. Tony Sicaro was the best of the best. In hand-to-hand combat, some would say Tony was better than his son. In strategy… he sighed. “Who shot you in the back, Tony?” He asked.

  “Hard to say, sir. Didn’t see.”

  “You were warned about Dev.”

  “Took him out, sir.” Tony said firmly.

  “I… see.”

  “Also took out another guard on my way in.”

  “You took out two guards.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you let the lieutenant get her hands on a gun?”

  The corners of Tony’s lips lifted upwards in a surprisingly wide grin. “No, sir. On account of my not being a complete and utter moron, sir.”

  “A third guard.” Jim Hawk said flatly. “Intel was that only one guard would interfere.”

  “That intel was shit, sir.”

  “Are you quite finished?”

  “No sir. Barely getting started, sir.”

  “And do you think that’s wise?” Jim Hawk asked softly.

  “Wisdom’s already flown out the window here, hasn’t it, sir?”

  Jim’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Is there something you need to get off your chest, commander?”

  “Bad intel makes for failed missions, sir.” Tony said pointedly.

  “So do bad soldiers.”

  Tony straightened out from his slumped position in the chair, his yes meeting those of the president directly. “Then send someone better.” He said.

  “And if I choose to send you?”

  “Again? I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sir.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Tony said flatly.

  “And why not?” Jim Hawk pressed.

  Tony stared across the polished wood desk at the president of their planet, and the man he had known most of his life. A few decades back, when Samantha Hawk was away traveling, Jim Hawk made Tony and James grilled cheese sandwiches when they got home from school. And today, the man could have him killed with a word. Probably could have done it back then too, for that matter. Tony would have dearly loved to avoid this conversation. But Jim Hawk wasn’t going to let him. He was going to force him to make the choice. “She was wearing Sam’s sweater.” He said instead.

  Jim Hawk’s eyes registered the briefest moment of confusion before darkening into pure rage. “I see.” He said, ice dripping from every syllable.

  “My blood’s on it now. All over the sleeve. Good thing it’s black or that stain might not come out.” Tony doubled down, ignoring the rage. Changing Jim Hawk’s mind wasn’t going to be easy. No surprises here.

  President Jim Hawk responded with silence, staring at Tony as if he were weighing the value of his life and not yet sure of the result. “You choose to honor my son’s wishes over my orders?” He said finally, the threat ringing crystal clear in every word.

  Tony sighed. “No, sir. I choose to follow my own judgment.”

  “Over mine?”

  Tony scratched the bandage on the side of his neck, just a few inches to the left of his jugular. And decided to back down. “Well sir, you have to consider the extenuating circumstances.”

  “Do I?”

  “It’s been a traumatizing couple of days for me, sir. Stabbed, stunned, bitten. I nearly lost an eye, sir.” He touched the scratch on his left temple for emphasis. “It can take years to regenerate an eye. And then you have to consider the, er, emotional trauma.” Tony nodded, ignoring the increasingly incredulous look on Jim Hawk’s face. “I’m just concerned I might have, er, performance issues. And like it or not” Tony added pointedly “her wearing Samantha’s sweater ain’t gonna help with that.”

  “And if my orders are to rise above it?”

  “I have some leave time saved up, sir. Thinking now’s as good a time as any to take it. What with my…delicate medical and mental health, sir.”

  “And how do you plan to spend your leave?”

  “With friends, sir.”

  Jim Hawk drummed his fingers against the wood table between them, considering the full grown man sitting across from him. He knew Tony as well as he knew his own son. And he knew when he was pushing too hard. He could either back down now or lose one of his best people. There were other ways to achieve his goal, but they would not be through Tony Sicaro. And lieutenant Summers had somehow, miraculously, won another ally. “All right.” He said finally. “I’m listening. You do this not based on my son’s orders but on the basis of your own judgment. Very well. Explain it to me.”

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  “She protects her people, sir. And she’s damn good at it.”

  “And are we her people?”

  “We will be.” Tony said firmly. “And it could be worse, couldn’t it, sir? It could be Thea.”

  “Thea is a decorated Captain of the Tundran military.” Jim Hawk said sharply.

  “Thea’s a damn bitch, sir.”

  “So you are sitting here, looking me in the face and telling me, that a known traitor, a Sarayan officer who served on Titan, killed our own on Titan, is better than Captain Thea Emerson?”

  “It’s not even close, sir.”

  “You are dismissed.” President Jim Hawk said shortly.

  Tony opened his mouth to say more, then shut it. He had done what he could. The rest Jim Hawk would need to figure out for himself. “Yes, sir.” He said before getting up and limping slowly back out of the presidential suite. At least he was still alive.

  Megalodon City Penitentiary, Tundra, Standard Year 404 after founding

  Tony, Dev, and Alanna were staring at each other across two food trays pulled together to create a very makeshift poker table. Simon, Lainey and Phil had already dropped out of the game. Tony’s pile of ration bars was the highest, spilling over beyond the small, makeshift table. “I raise five.” Tony said smugly, adding five more ration bars to the pile.

  “I call your five and raise five more.” Alanna said, adding a good portion of her remaining ration bars.

  “I’m out.” Dev said with a sigh.

  Phil looked away from the game at the sound of his comm going off. “The warden’s asking me to take someone in. I’ll be back. You’ll get ‘em next time, Dev.”

  Dev nodded in Phil’s general direction, distracted. “Come on, Alanna. The commander is too smug for his own good.”

  Alanna smiled, feeling rather good. Her headache was finally fading and she had gotten real food again for dinner, in the form of soup and ice cream. It was warm in the infirmary. “I’m going to win this.” She said with a grin, her eyes daring Tony to raise again. “And with one hand tied.” At least it was still her left hand, leaving her right hand free to hold the cards.

  “Be glad it’s not behind your back.” Tony said with a frown as he looked from the pile of ration bars on the table into Alanna’s smug green eyes.

  “Should we worry about whoever Phil is getting?” Alanna asked, momentarily distracted from her inevitable victory.

  “Too soon.” Tony said dismissively, his eyes focused on his cards.

  “He might move faster than you expect.” Alanna said.

  Tony paused. “Dev.” He said shortly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Just in case something unfortunate happens, here’s what I need you to do. Make sure your gun is set to stun and accidentally drop it in the lieutenant’s general vicinity. Alanna, I suggest you pick it up. Simon.” He paused, looking over at Simon. “Hand me your gun. Two accidental fumbles is one too many.”

  Alanna winced, not looking forward to what she would need to do to get out of the cuffs. Again.

  “Commander, we can help.” Dev said. “We don’t need the plausible deniability here. Other things are more important.”

  “No need.” Tony said shortly. “I’m going to handle this and the rest of you are going to follow orders. Clear?”

  Dev didn’t respond.

  “I’m going to drop my gun.” Simon said firmly, moving closer to Alanna’s side.

  Tony sighed again, ignoring them both. “Alanna?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “If this is an attack, fire at will.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going to head home.” Lainey said quietly. “It’s quite a bit past the end of my shift.”

  “Thank you for your help.” Alanna said.

  Tony just nodded.

  ---

  Doctor Fiona Wolton followed Phil back into the infirmary of Megalodon City penitentiary, her antigrav medical trunk close behind. “Do I sense some tension?” She asked mildly, looking around the room.

  “Fi.” Tony said, relief clear in his voice. “It’s good to see you. Is everything all right? Do you think there’s somethingwrong with Alanna?”

  “Some of that might be beyond my skill.” Fiona said with a tired grin. “But as it happens, I’m here following orders.”

  “Whose?” Tony asked in surprise.

  “Classified. But I’ll tell you this.” Fiona said as she set down her trunk and began removing supplies. “They’re from high up.”

  “What are you doing?” Alanna asked, shifting as far away from Fiona as her cuffed hand would allow. “I’m actually fine as is.”

  Fiona raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t come here to harm a patient, if that is what you are implying. I’m a doctor.”

  Alanna looked around the room, uncertainty clear on her face. “Ok but I’m still fine. There’s no need for any additional treatment.”

  “What kind of treatment are you giving her?” Tony asked calmly.

  “Alanna.” Fiona turned towards her. “The treatments I gave you last night were to speed up the natural healing process. The supply of these treatments is limited. I took a risk sharing what I had. I have to answer for losing my supplies. I am now authorized to provide you with everything you need. Do you in fact want to get better? If so, I am here to aid that process. If you refuse the treatments, I certainly will not force you.”

  Alanna looked to Tony, on some level realizing just how much she had grown to trust him in a very short time. That could, of course, be a mistake. He was a damn good poker player. But she didn’t have much else to go on. “Do you think that’s true?” She asked him.

  “Fiona won’t lie.” Tony said without hesitation.

  “Is it… is it good news?” Alanna asked. “Do you think it means the – do you think it means he changed his mind? And decided to leave me alone?”

  “No, I don’t think it’s good news.” Tony said with a sigh. “If the president’s plan was to leave you alone, he wouldn’t waste these treatments on you. You’re stable. If left alone, in time you’ll heal. For whatever reason, Jim’s decided he doesn’t want to wait.”

  “Well, he doesn’t need me healthy for an order of execution either, does he?”

  “No.” Tony agreed thoughtfully. “No, he does not.”

  “Do you want the treatment or not?” Fiona asked. “It’s been a long day. Preceded by an even longer night.”

  “It’s up to you.” Tony said, looking towards Alanna.

  “If this will help me heal faster, I want it.” Alanna said without hesitation.

  Fiona nodded and stepped forward, syringe in hand. “Please lean forward. I’ll start with the back of your head.” She said shortly.

  Last time, Fiona had skipped her thumb. Alanna noted that this time, even her thumb was treated.

  “I would like to run one more scan to verify you’re healing properly.” Fina said when she finished.

  Alanna nodded. This time she sat up straight on her own, waiting patiently until the scan was complete.

  “She’s healing well.” Fiona said. “Alanna, is there anything else that’s bothering you?”

  “No.” Alanna said quietly, trying to ignore the nervous lurch of her stomach. Jim Hawk decided he needed her healthy for… something. “Thank you for your help.” She remembered to add politely.

  Fiona nodded. “Is there anything else before I head home for a long shower?”

  “No.” Alanna repeated.

  “Good. I would prescribe a shower for the patient, as well. The back of her head is still caked with blood, gentlemen.” Fiona said pointedly, before taking her bag and leaving the room.

  “I’ll walk her out.” Phil said quietly, following Fiona out of the room.

  “Just show me the damn cards already.” Tony said impatiently.

  Alanna laid down her cards. “Three queens.” She said with a grin, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom. “And I want more ice cream.”

  “Dammit.” Tony said with genuine annoyance.

  “Can I see what you had?”

  “No, you bloody well can’t. You’re not even a good poker player. You just count cards.”

  “You’re not a good player. You’re just good at bluffing.”

  “That’s the game!”

  “No, getting a winning hand is the game.”

  “Are you two quite finished?” Dev asked.

  “Yes.” Tony said shortly. He returned a minute later with an unwrapped ice cream cone and tossed it in Alanna’s general direction. “It’s the last one. All ration bars from here.”

  Alanna caught the ice cream cone easily. Her headache was entirely gone now. “About that shower.” She said hopefully.

  Tony eyed her doubtfully. It would mean removing the cuffs. And outside of an all out attack, he was still hesitant to do so.

  “You’ll cooperate?” He asked. “No bullshit?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your word?”

  Alanna sighed with some reluctance. “Yes.” She repeated.

  “I can get her clean clothes.” Dev said, sitting up. “We should do this now. They’re going to wait until the treatments take full effect, right? Nothing is likely to happen tonight.”

  Tony hesitated. There were no guarantees but it wasn’t likely. The medication Fiona provided was limited in supply. Jim Hawk wouldn’t waste it. He nodded in agreement and went to empty out the break room shower. He didn’t want anything even vaguely resembling a weapon anywhere near Alanna. For so many reasons.

  Fifteen minutes later, Alanna stood gloriously alone in an entirely empty shower stall. Tundran showers bore no resemblance whatsoever to Sarayan showers. Sarayan showers were a single soft trickle of water, intended to minimize the risk of stray water splashing into one’s mouth or eyes. A Tundran shower was a full on blast of water from at least a dozen streams. The powerful water pressure felt like needles against her skin. Much like the rest of the planet, it was all too big and too much. Too much water, too much pressure, and for once, too much heat. Alanna breathed in the steam filled air and turned the water temperature slightly colder. It was, without a doubt, the best shower of her life.

  She watched as the blood tinged water ran off her head and down the drain, washing off the remnants of the last several days with them. Ignoring the twinge of pain from where needles had pierced her skull and the larger bruise that was still tender along the back of her head, she finally washed her hair. Long after she finished bathing, she stood under the stream, feeling the seemingly endless water against her skin. Just one giant ball of drinkable water, she reminded herself. And there was a chance, just the very slightest edge of a chance, that all of this could be hers. This shower, every night. She tried to imagine the bathtub James had described. The one in his apartment. If this was a break room shower, what would his bathtub be like?

  “Alanna, you alive in there?” Dev’s voice called out.

  Alanna sighed. At least they had gotten Dev to do it. Given that both Simon and Tony had tried to rape her, that was a nice touch. “I’m coming out.” She said with some reluctance, turning off the shower. She walked out a few minutes later, wearing her second and now only pair of jeans, a thin black shirt and a cream sweater. The clean clothes felt amazing. She had done her best to carefully wash what was apparently the black hawk sweater, working hard to get the dried blood out of the sleeve. It was fortunate that the color was black.

  “You can put the cuffs back on or go back to the cell.” Tony said, getting straight to the point.

  “I can go back to my cell?” Alanna asked, surprised by how hopeful her voice sounded.

  Tony looked bemused. “Is that a good thing?”

  Alanna thought about the things James had brought for her, and how the weight of his sleeping bag felt draped over her as she went to sleep. “I want to go back.” She said before she quite realized what she was saying. “That is, if it’s all right with everyone. I know it’s warmer here.”

  “We can go back.” Dev said without hesitation. “It’s more defensible anyway.”

  So that evening they all went back to the fourteenth floor, including Tony. Alanna just barely managed to put away two more forks hidden in the folds of the sleeping bag and wash off a few drips of blood that had fallen onto the fabric, before collapsing in complete exhaustion.

  ---

  “Hiding won’t work.” James said. They were sitting across from each other, each on their own concrete bench, against opposite cell walls. His gray eyes were ice cold once again. “You’ll still get noticed. It just makes you less valuable. You want to be valuable. Don’t you, Alanna?”

  “Why don’t you answer your texts?” She asked, ignoring his question. “You’ve been gone a long time. Why is this mission taking so long? Why can’t you answer a simple text?” She repeated, fear and anger intermingled and inseparable in her voice.

  “I have my reasons.”

  “What are they?”

  “I must be very far away.”

  “Saraya.” Alanna whispered. “You’re on Saraya. Or you’re dead.”

  “I’m not dead. If I’m dead, you get asylum. No more games.”

  “No more politics.”

  “No.”

  “I can be a cave diver.”

  “Until you die.”

  “Yes.”

  Alanna sat up in her makeshift bed, the sudden movement causing only a twinge of pain in her head. Whatever treatment Fiona had given her was miraculous. Her body felt amazing, other than the dread in the pit of her stomach. Jim Hawk was still coming for her. He would not fail a third time. And she had no idea, none at all, what his next attack would be. Gathering the sleeping bag more tightly around her body, she rolled over and went back to sleep. This time, James was on the bed next to her, pulling her close until the warmth of his body chased away the chill of the Tundran winter storm.