"Long Live"

Prequel to "Talking", and starts off the series chronology-wise.

Historical note to anyone reading this - the series itself is set in 2012, which, for all rights and purposes of this series, is in the future. "Long Live" (Namor) and "White Knight" (Hammond) are set in 2003, which is now. (Just in case anyone reading this somehow stumbles across it in, say, five years... *mocking laughter from offscreen* It COULD happen! *more laughter* Grrr...)



Humans, by nature, are destructive creatures. Even inadvertantly, they do things which harm others, harm themselves, and very often do not realize it until it is too late.

Oil slicks half an inch thick covered most of the East Coast shoreline. Two tankers in succession had ruptured their hulls a few miles out to sea. Part of the aging European fleet. Partially to blame because the US denied a loan to replace the tankers after the last large oil spill. It was structural integrity failure.

The White House wouldn't buy that. More precisely, it couldn't sell it to its local media.

So, as in many times of crisis, Washington decided to fabricate information. Reports went around that the recent peace talks with Atlantis had "gone poorly" and that there was "due suspicion" that the undersea nation could be to blame. They then went on to the tankers themselves: They went down over a small coral reef - a perfect place for Atlantian subs lying in wait. One of the tanker's logs mentioned a strange creature in the water not two nights before the accident - some leviathan under the controll of the Sub-Mariner?

From this, a new hero of the people emerged, an "honest corperate head" who only saw the the greater good of humanity in mind. Franklin Aeyson had graduated first in his class from Harvard, served his time in the Air Force, and had commendations from three presidents. He charmed everyone he met with his good Christian politeness and manners. The public ate him up. And soon, they saw fit to rally behind him for just about anything. He spoke out against the Atlantian menace, and with his deathly loyal followers, was able to sway a suprime court desision to ban US oil drilling in Atlantian waters. "For," he said, "any nation that is so far spread as to claim half the globe as its own does not function as one nation." That left 'Atlantian territory' in International Waters, and to the tender mercy of Aeyson and the major oil companies.



The scattered colony of Anat Tir had grown up around the migrating routes of humpbacks for many years. Although still realitively small and disorganized compared to some of the other Atlantian cities, its people were happy. They lived simple lives, content with their seagrass farms and tiny agora where the local merchants showed off their wares. Children swam in the spaces between the buildings, playing something similar to lacrosse with coral rackets and a small hermet crab shell. One of the children tossed the shell up and over a small mud wall. The others gave case, but coming to the otherside, could not spot it. Then, something shining beneath the sand. One of the boys bent down to dust it off. It was strange - metal, he knew, from the surfaceworld. Round, like a discus, and with an upraised part in the center. He pressed it to no effect. The others laughed - it was nothing. And the boy laughed too. Foolish landcrawlers, leaving things for children to find. And the boy stood up, releasing his pressure on the upraised disc. The explosion rocked the nearby dwellings and crumbled the mud wall into silt.



A more somber mood could never have been found as in the Atlantian throne room when word of Anat Tir came. Prince Namor sat upon his throne with a heavy heart, for he and all his power could not have stopped the mines that had been planted there, that had now claimed a third of the town's population. The town itself had been evacuated, but minesweeping had always been a skill of the surfacemen, and Namor saw little gain in risking more lives to remove the mines already set.

Nita swam up to her cousin's side and placed a hand on his shoulder. He nodded, acknowlaging her, but nothing else. "Namor, have they... found out who has done this? Attuma? Ker-"

"I know who, Cousin," he said gravely. "The answer is clear in the shining metal." When she did not reply, he went on, "You know well that no Atlantian hand can forge such a flawless and intricate weapon down in these depths. We have always relied on the surfacemen..." He paused, almost flinching visibly at the mere thought of a human, "...relied on them to make the weapons for us. Microcircuitry is an unknown thing here."

"But I thought that we were on good terms with the UN? The last time you sent a diplomat, they had no complaints," the small Atlantian moved to sit on the arm of the great golden throne.

"No... But it appears that they have changed their two-faced ways yet again, the dogs!" He stood and moved towards an open arch that overlooked the main street of the city.

Nita winced, "Namor, what's happened is terrible, but please don't-" he was gone, "...act hastily. Damnit."



The former Annat Tir now swam with men in SCUBA gear and small mini-subs piloted from huge ships above. Crews worked overtime to clear away both rubble and mines, and to get the foundation laid for a new oil rig. With so much commotion and so many divers, it was easy for one man to go unnoticed just beyond the coral. But Namor was never a man to go unnoticed for long.

"Imperius Rex!" In one fluid movement, he'd launched himself out from behind the jutting coral and grabbed onto the cord of one of the small unmanned submersibles, ripping it from the ship above. He then swung it overhead and tossed it back at the ship. It tore straight through the hull, dooming its parent. The divers began to panic, unhooking the spearguns from their belts. They were told there may be some minor resistance, but this-!

The spears did little but to bring the Prince's wraith apon them as well. "Murderers!" He cried, "An armed taskforce to take my kingdom from me! A fool's errand that will cost you all your lives!"

The fleeing fleet of ships were let one last amazing sight, that of men flying, propelled straight out of the water onto their decks from a good hundred feet off, before their own engines fell quiet.



"Atlantis is no threat. They'll balk, but given time-"

"These actions- no, attacks, are unacceptable! Americans are dead! You cannot deny that Atlantis is an international hazard!"

"Mr Aeyson, you will observe the laws set in this debate and keep your voice to a reasonable tone," the older man sat back into his wooden chair, face stern set at the other. The debate between Aeyson and Senator Blackwood had barely begun, and already it looked as though it would end in riot. Aeyson, a good friend of the ailing Sen. Yoshimitzu, had taken his place in the debate after he'd taken ill. The public held the corperate head in such high regard as their "common man in politics" (a flawed title if there ever was one) that the decision went through without a hitch. And that left Harold Thane, a former senator himself and one-time judge to, well, he considered himself more a referee than anything between the two men.

"You would silence the truth?" Aeyson demanded of Blackwood, his voice lowered but his tone even more vile than before.

Blackwood snorted from behind his handlebar moustache, "I do not pretend that they are not a mild... inconvienance. But they are no more a threat than the other small rebel groups we have cleared from our oil properties."

While Aeyson responded to this, flustered and sputtering with rage, Thane could only sigh at the two - neither were even mildly appealing to him. Republicans both of them, and surely they were dug from the bottom of the barrell, at that! To think that this debate could decide which would grab the Presidential nomination! Or, in the more right case, Aeyson would be nabbing it for Yoshimitzu, but he knew that like all of the recent Presidential candidates, Aeyson would either be his Vice President, or his most trusted advisor.

"And," Aeyson demanded roughly, "what of the Sub-Mariner?" He motioned to the window with a showy sweep of his hand, punctuating his points with jabbing motions towards it, "He has flooded New York dozens of times! He has killed innocent people on American land! He has led armies, seeking to conquor us! He alone could cripple most of our Atlantic fleet! And you say that the Atlantians are no threat?!"

"Must I ask you again, Mr. Aeyson, to-"

Aeyson continued, heedless, "I saw we take care of them now, send SHIELD or some other organization to deal with them before they decide to bring their war with us home!"

The audience stood, cheering him. Across America, millions of TVs tuned in were witness to the same. And from his place in front of Blackwood and Thane, Aeyson smiled to himself.



It didn't take long for the UN to give in to the United States' pressure. Atlantis was very suddenly shut out from all nagotiations both there and abroad. The nation itself was under very real attack - oil wells were being dug in their waters, platforms set up which spewed out waste that was very often deadly. It seemed that the whole world was against them.



Nita curled herself into a tight ball in her cousin's throne. She had no idea where Namor was, and although a capable leader in her own right, she was frightened. Their city, their country seemed doomed to be overrun by the surfacemen. Namor had left over a week ago in a rage at the happenings at Anat Tir, and had not returned since. They could not afford to have their leader gone in such a trying time. Refugees flooded in from the small city-colonies that had been distoyed or poisoned. The people were panicing, talking of riot or worse. Vashti did his best to reassure them, and Nita herself had spoken to them at a small rally, but the fact of it was, if something did not happen soon to stop the air-breathing invaders, Atlantis would not be lost to the surfacemen, but to disorder itself.