Author's Note: Le gasp! I am a few hours late with my update! What is this madness?! Sanctus is never late. He always publishes precisely when he means to.
Well, actually, that's not true. Just at publishing time, I suddenly decided to rewrite this chapter because I'm an obsessively picky writer. Or perhaps it's an addiction. Can you be addicted to proofreading? It sounds like the most boring addiction ever. Ah well, I doubt it'll do my any harm, as long as I get my regular fix. *twitch*
I hope you enjoy the very last sentence of this installment.
The Shadow On The Reef
Chapter Twenty: The Rise...
"Gaiety is often the reckless ripple over depths of despair." - Edward Hubbell Chapin
The sun had almost set over the sea when Anna Pauling met Spy Marcus on a little spit of sand that curled off the end of Time-Out island. The cooling sea breeze had stopped in the twilight and the air was very still. The only noise was the gentle murmur of the waves as it sucked at the beach.
Anna carefully placed a blanket on the sand and sat down with a slightly annoyed sigh.
"So, what's this all about, Marcus?" She asked impatiently. "You send me a mysterious note to ask me to meet you somewhere obscure and far away from most of the Institute to tell me 'Something of interest'. You know I don't have much patience for all this Spy crap."
"Yes, I know," Marcus said, sitting down beside her and inhaling his cigarette. He blew an idle smoke ring into the air. "However, I have important information. First of all, I know about Carmine."
"Of course you do! You were there when we blew up the plantation," Anna replied irritably.
"Non. I mean, I know about the new note. I know that Carmine is still alive- and still after our blood," Marcus said. "I know about your meeting with all your lovely copies to discuss it."
Anna sighed in resignation. "Well, we knew someone would listen in. Please don't tell everyone. It'd be chaos."
"I realise that," Marcus said. "We Spies collect information- but rarely give it out freely."
"Does anyone else know?" Anna asked.
"That I can't tell you," Marcus replied. "It could be other Spies were listening- who knows? I wouldn't be surprised."
"So, you just wanted to tell me you know something. Great. Is that all?"
"Not at all. I have found something out. Something disturbing."
"Get on with it, Marcus!"
Marcus sighed in slight irritation. "You have no appreciation for drama. Very well: Erwin and Jacques are up to something. They are in collusion."
"Erwin had Jacques in quarantine, because he got yellow fever, poor guy," Anna said. She frowned thoughtfully. "You think there's something more to it?"
"Frankly, yes," Marcus said flatly. "Before Jacques 'fell ill', he and Erwin were spending a lot of time together. I felt it prudent to keep my eye on Erwin, even given his...unpleasant welcome at the plantation. As you know, Jacques was sorely troubled by the events in Peru, but now, he seems far less burdened, all of a sudden- and crippling illness is not known for its ability to make a person happy or care-free. I find myself wondering: was he paid off? Did they come to an accord? Or has Erwin recruited him? They are all possibilities."
Anna looked out over the water and bit her lip in thought. "I can't believe Erwin is working for Carmine. I just can't. You saw the state he was in!"
"Who knows? Perhaps this was all orchestrated to take blame away from him. From them both."
"God, I don't like this at all."
"Neither do I," Marcus admitted. "Jacques is my...brother, after all. I find the idea of any of us Spies turning traitor deeply disturbing. I do not have the fluid loyalties many assume. To think about a Spy that does...it goes against the grain."
"So you think they're colluding?" Anna asked. "I need good evidence before I can act."
"I think they're working together on something. Something big, and secret. I hope it doesn't involve Carmine."
"Huh." Anna looked away for a moment. "Well, I'll keep an eye out. That's all I can do."
"That is all any of us can do," Marcus admitted. "I hope and pray I'm wrong, truly I do."
"Yeah, me too," Anna replied quietly. "I just wish I knew what Carmine wanted!"
Marcus snorted sourly. "Who knows? Perhaps we have done him some great wrong. Perhaps he harbours jealousy at our successes. Perhaps he is simply insane. It could be he has a vendetta against us just because the voices in his head told him to do it."
"Surely someone that insane wouldn't be able to run a drug empire!"
"Really?" Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Have you looked around you, lately? Look at Pyro. Look at Engineer. They are still competent and productive, even with their... little ways, oui?"
Anna snorted sourly. "That goes for all of us."
"So it does," Marcus sighed. "So it does. Well, there it is. Apologies for being the bearer of bad news, but you needed to know."
"I'm not sure you've told me anything, except to keep my eyes open," Anna complained, getting to her feet and rubbing sand off her knees. "Don't tell anyone about this, ok?"
"Of course, Madamoiselle." Marcus gave a short bow.
"I better get back. I'm meeting Mal tonight for dinner."
"'Mal'?" Marcus asked.
"Oh, er, Demo Malcolm," Anna said. She looked down and fiddled with her hair briefly. "We...er...he..."
"Everyone deserves a little romance in their lives," Marcus said with a smile that turned slowly warmer. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a fond squeeze. "Go ahead and grasp it when you find it."
She looked up at him and flashed a quick grin. "Right, I will."
"Before you go, Anna," Marcus said, clearing his throat and briefly fiddling with his tie, "I am aware you had an... unusual upbringing. No father to speak of, a mother who was somewhat...preoccupied. I believe it is possible your education in the... affairs of the heart... could be somewhat lacking. If you have any questions, I would be happy to answer them, fully and frankly."
"Questions...? Oh God, Spy! You're not seriously offering to give me 'The Talk', are you? Jesus! I mean thanks, but... no. Really, really no."
"Very well." Marcus gave a short chuckle. "Better to be safe than sorry, non? Talking of which, you know... how to be safe?"
"Look, can you just shut up right now?" Anna said in exasperation. "I know what you're getting at, but we've only talked, it might never... uh... ok, I'm going back in. Goodnight, Marcus."
The two walked off. As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the air started to cool and gain a slight chill. The sand moved. First a few grains shifted, and then an entire man-shaped chunk of sand sat up and shook itself off.
"Bordel!" Jacques muttered, trying to snort sand out of his nose. I think we can call that a successful trial of my abilities. He concentrated and shifted his skin back to its normal pale and smooth. Jacques had quickly realised that his skin-changing abilities had one rather large drawback: he had to be naked for it to work. Still, it wasn't as if he had never worked naked before: a certain special kind of information gathering involved nakedness (and quite a bit of enjoyment, if he was entirely honest with himself). Admittedly, this was a little more public than he was used to. It was worth it, though, and his clothes were just over there... he groped under a bush until his hands touched invisible cloth. The cloaked suit shimmered back into existence and he got dressed, cursing at the sand chafing his skin.
Once back in his suit, he sat on the sand and looked out over the sea while he thought about what he had heard. So, we didn't kill Carmine. I can't say I'm surprised. He seems like a clever planner, that one. We must have hit him hard financially, though. He frowned in worry. The sea was calm, and cool, and seemed to beckon him. For a moment, he thought of diving in and swimming far away... Too late in the day for a swim, you idiot! Concentrate. The most important piece of information was that not only was Erwin still under suspicion, but now he was as well.
He had to warn Erwin. Then they had better avoid each other for a few days. Jacques sighed. It was odd, but... he'd enjoyed Erwin's company more than he expected during the time he had been treated. In fact, he'd be willing to say they had become friends. Good friends.
He had already decided that Erwin must be innocent. Not only had he been tortured, but he would not have helped Jacques if he was going to betray them all. This kind of suspicion was no doubt exactly what Carmine wanted. He or she could reduce them to petty in-fighting and ruin the Institute without lifting a finger. He got to his feet. He legs felt slightly numb and tingly, but Jacques decided he must have just sat awkwardly. He checked there was no one about, and then took the teleport back to the Institute, and made his way to Erwin's room, effecting an idle, relaxed stroll. It was important to look relaxed. Just a normal day, visiting a friend. Yes.
He knocked, and Erwin opened the door. His long face lengthened in surprise and then broke into a warm smile.
"Jacques! Good to see you. I hope zhere is nozhing wrong?"
"Not at all, docteur. Purely a social visit." Jacques gestured at the door. "If I may?"
Erwin looked at the door in bafflement for a few seconds and then blinked as he realised what Spy meant. "Please, come in."
Jacques strolled inside and then sat down with a sigh. "Apologies, but actually, this is not quite the social visit I made it out to be. I wanted to avoid causing any more suspicion."
"Zhere is a problem?" Erwin frowned in worry. "Is zhe treatment..."
"Non, non the treatment has worked perfectly," Jacques replied with a wave of his gloved hand. "A few weeks, and we can reveal your work. I'm sure it'll be highly praised. We have another problem. Two problems. Firstly, my sources tell me Carmine is still alive."
"Scheiße. I'm not surprised, but I had hoped he vas dealt vizh." Erwin stopped and swallowed suddenly. His hands clenched into a white-knuckled fist. "Do...ve have to go back to Peru?"
"It has not been suggested, thank God," Jacques said with a sigh. "I don't think I could tolerate that."
"Neizher..." Erwin's voice cracked and his cleared his throat. "Neizher could I."
"The other problem is a more personal one," Jacques said. He looked Erwin squarely in the eye. "I'm sorry to tell you that you are still under suspicion as a traitor."
"VHAT! How... how is zhat even possible?" Erwin barked and got to his feet. He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at it roughly. "After everyzhing zhat... Look at my hands. Look at zhem! Vould I allow an ally to do zhis?" Erwin held his damaged fingers out in demonstration. Jacques already knew what he'd see: only two intact fingernails in total. The others were tiny little half-moons growing back from the nail bed, crooked and bent. Medic sat down again and put his head in his hands.
"If I read the situation correctly, the amount of suspicion against you is lessened due to the unpleasant welcome you received in Peru. The distrust of you is still there, but less than it was, at least. The problem is that our recent time spent together has been noted. They think we are colluding." Jacques snorted sourly. "Carmine is ripping the Institute apart. We are both suspects now- and it will spread like poison, until no one trusts anyone else."
Erwin looked up at that. "So, now you are under suspicion too?"
"Indeed I am." Jacques nodded grimly. He paused briefly, wondering whether to continue. "I have my own suspicions, too: Marcus."
"You zhink he might be our traitor?"
"After my first mistake, I am loathe to point fingers again," Jacques continued, "But he is the one who knew the precise location of the plantation. He is now the one pointing fingers at us, and... oh, mon Dieu! That is a terrible thought!"
"What?!"
"Obviously, Marcus and I look practically identical. I was not harmed when we were captured..."
"Carmine zhought you vere Marcus, and coughed to give away our position, and then left you unharmed," Erwin said quietly. "I zhink ve need to report zhis."
Jacques snorted sourly. "You believe anyone will listen to us? There is far more evidence against you than him. It will be seen as spineless finger-pointing, no more. There is only one productive action we can take right now: we need to avoid each other for a few days, to reduce the suspicion."
"No," Erwin said flatly. "I need to assess your condition. Let zhem suspect. It's obvious zhat nozhing I can do vill stop zhem, and I will not stop my greatest vork just to make zhem feel safe. I am not a nursemaid!"
"I can't do my job if I am under constant surveillance," Jacques pointed out.
"You don't have to be." Erwin suddenly gave an evil smile. "You can vanish in a way nobody else ever could. It seems obvious vhat ve have to do now."
"It is?"
"Ve find Carmine. Just us. Ve track him down and bring him to justice- or butcher him on zhe spot. Eizher is fine by me."
"Even if it means returning to Peru?" Jacques asked.
"Gott." Erwin closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering, breath before opening them again. "Yes. If ve have to."
"Erwin," Jacques said solemnly. "I swear I will do everything within my power to make sure that you are never captured by them again. As far as I am concerned, you are not the traitor, and you never were."
Erwin looked up. His eyes looked unexpectedly shiny, and Jacques realised with a shock just how much the doctor had been affected by what he had been through. He had just not let anyone see before now. The man was on a knife edge.
Jacques cleared his throat and put his hands on the man's tense shoulders.
"You are my friend, and I trust you, Erwin."
Jacques felt himself filled with a new energy and determination over the next few days. Rather than being burdened with worry, the knowledge that Carmine was out there filled him with purpose. They would bring Tim's murderer to justice, and stop the attacks. They would be heroes- not that he needed adoration or acknowledgement, of course. No, not at all.
In the meantime, he practised his new skin-changing ability. It seemed it worked best when he wanted to blend into natural textures- sand, rock, or leaves. Pebbles were more difficult, because of their bumpy surface. Out of curiosity, he tried mimicking his mask, and found he could copy the way it sat on his face absolutely perfectly. His skill was growing in leaps and bounds.
He looked at his rapidly changing face in the mirror and smiled. He was The Spy. The perfect imitator. More than human.
There was just one more thing he had to do.
He carefully ran the razor over his scalp, cutting off what little hair he had left. As he worked, he stared at his shaved head in the mirror. With a twitch of his lips, a wave of bright pink and yellow spots flooded down from his forehead and he snorted in laughter.
...A curl of dark brown hair fell to the floor...
He had been practising his new skill to listen in to a lot of private conversations that he knew were none of his business, and learnt some very interesting facts about the people working in the Institute:
For instance, Heavy Dimitri was fond of needlework, and was currently working on a design of two teddybears hugging a pink heart. Medic Uwe had tried to complete it and the two of them had had a row when Dimitri found suture silk knotted all through his tapestry.
Meantime, Pyro Fanxue was working on something that involved bright green fire. At one point, he'd filled Engineer Connor's workshop with bright purple fumes and they'd both staggered out, coughing and giggling before passing out.
...There was quite a pile of fine brown hair on the floor now. It was a shame he couldn't alter his hair colour, really. Still, that was what wigs were for...
While hidden against an alcove in a concrete wall, he had found out that Scout Matt and Scout Thomas had had a fistfight over the affections of Clara Pauling. Matt had won- and then Clara had turned them both down. The two Scouts had gone off together to get drunk and lament about the perfidy of women. It had been most amusing to watch.
A heap of fallen palm leaves had provided the perfect cover to watch Engineer Tyler cooing and singing over his bees. Literally singing to them. Maybe he was trying to make the honey sweeter? Jacques had smothered his laughter hurriedly and then Tyler had stepped back and trodden on his calf. He had managed to avoid yelping and now had a boot-shaped bruise on his leg.
... The final little curl of hair dropped to the floor.
He looked into the mirror. His thin face looked spare and lean without the hair. The face of the perfect killer. He could go anywhere, do anything, see everything. His lips stretched in a thin smile. It was time to forget the past, and go forward. Everything was as it should be.
He remained in high spirits until the next morning, when his teeth started to fall out.
In Chapter Twenty-One: Tyler races to the rescue- and fails.