Author's Note: Well, we're getting near the end now, as you may have gathered. I thought this was going to be a short story when it was in my head. It seems my brain was lying to me.
I often get people asking me how I complete stories like this. They say they tend to peter out before they're done. The best advice I can give, to anyone who is interested, is, first of all, to write out a plot plan before you start, and secondly, find some nice dramatic music to listen to while you write. I find it really stirs my imagination. Considering what I come up with, this might not necessarily be a good thing.
I ended last chapter on a cliffhanger, so let's not break the tradition, hmm?
The Shadow On The Reef
Chapter Thirty-Four: Revolutions
"He only earns his freedom and his life, who takes them every day by storm." -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Tropical Storm Dawn moved off north by the end of the day, and like all storms, it left chaos in its wake. Lawrence's boathouse was utterly destroyed, and pieces of it littered the pebble beach around the Institute. Scoutbot took to the damp skies, searching for any signs of Sniper's boat, but he never found it.
However, unlike most storms, this one also left shame behind.
Katie Pauling sat down and took a deep gulp of her strong coffee. "Isn't there anything we can do?"
"Nope," Engineer Dell said flatly. "I've checked and double-checked. His respawn was switched off, just as planned. There's no data to bring him back, and a medigun can't cure a bullet to the brain-pan. And before you ask- that insta-revive gadget we used in the robot wars only works for a few seconds after death."
"So, I've got to go out there and tell everyone I ordered the death of an innocent man," She said with a sigh.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Dell stated. Katie looked round and glared at him, but he just shrugged back. "You know it's the truth."
"That's all behind us now," Miss Pauling said with a sigh. "Or so I thought. If Erwin were here, I'd still give him a good kicking for making things so difficult!"
"The man was sure as hell guilty of something," Dell pointed out. "I'm just not sure what. Have you seen Jacques yet?"
"Yes," Katie said with a shudder. "He's...he's..."
"Incredible?"
"Creepy!"
"That too. He's still a man though, and he deserves your respect," Dell pointed out sternly. "He also likely saved Sniper Lawrence's life."
"I know, I know. It still all makes no sense, though," Katie complained. "Why did Erwin confess? Surely he knew Jacques was still alive?"
"Maybe he didn't. Maybe he just didn't want to be imprisoned for ten years. A fella's got to be free, you know. Or maybe he was just plain telling the truth- that he had wanted Jacques dead. He just failed to kill him. I guess we'll never know for sure."
"I should have waited," She said to herself. "I was so sure it was the right thing to do..."
"You've said it before yourself: all you can do is what seems to be right at the time," He reached over and squeezed her arm supportively. She glared at his hand and he removed it slowly. "How's Tyler coping?"
She sighed sadly. "Badly, I expect."
A robotic hand placed a few sprigs of lavender on the freshly dug earth of a shallow grave. The wind instantly picked them up and carried them away into the sea. Tyler sighed and stood up.
"I'll make damned sure they don't never forget about you, my old friend."
He plodded away from the grave and looked up at the Institute. Before, it had looked modern and shone with hope for a new future. Now, it was a foreboding monolith, where friends had to kill their friends and justice was miscarried. With a snort, he turned around and went to care for his bees.
At least they could be trusted, stings and all.
Jacques prowled back and forth in his shallow tank, muttering under his breath and staring at the people who came to gawp at him. Mostly, he just glared at them, but he did half-throttle Medic Albrecht when he had strolled in with a trolley of metal implements and a large syringe, and Bobby and Rick's clothes were now ruined with octopus ink...
He was exhausted and bruised, but no Spy could sleep where others could see him- and this wretched tank had glass sides. He had no privacy whatsoever in here! He was not an aquarium exhibit, damn it!
Eventually, he sunk down to the bottom, curled his tentacles around himself for comfort, and dropped into a twitchy light sleep for the rest of the morning.
At about midday, Anna Pauling came to see him, so he uncurled and came up to the water's surface, his clawed hands grabbing the side of the tank. She stared at him for a moment, her throat moving as she swallowed, before hesitantly coming closer. She climbed onto the rickety staging that had been thoughtfully put alongside his tank.
"Mademoiselle," He said, "We..."
"Oh God," She suddenly grabbed him in a rib-creakingly tight hug. "You're alive. Thank God. It's so good to see you."
"Ah..." Jacques sputtered, losing any semblance of dignity for a moment. "It iss...unexpected, I will admit."
"You must have...I can't imagine what you've gone through." She let him go, and he noticed with an embarrassed grimace that her arms were now coated with slime. She did not seem to care, however. "I mean...are you ok?"
"As well as can be expected," He said, blinking. "I must admit I don't quite feel like my old sself."
"I...just...don't know what to say," She admitted. "Just let me know if there's anything I- or any of us in the WPD- can do for you. I know you have to live in the sea for now, but you don't have to be alone."
"He never was alone," Sniper Lawrence said, strolling into the room and throwing himself into a cheap plastic chair. "I just came to say...thanks, mate. You saved my life."
"And filthy busshman, you ssaved mine," Jacques admitted. "We are even."
"Medic gave me the once-over, and I'm fine, he says," Lawrence told him. "Bit of hypothermia, some seawater in my lungs, plenty of cuts and bruises, nothing a day's rest won't solve. He says he'd like to give you a check-up..."
"You can tell him he can give me a check-up when hell freezes over," Jacques said shortly. "I never want to go near another Medic in my life."
"What if you could be turned back? Easily and painlessly, say? Not even then?" Sniper asked.
Jacques paused before answering. "No, I think not." He slapped the water idly with a tentacle. He cleared his throat and blinked, surprised by his own thoughts. "I...did want to be unique..."
"You want to stay like that? Seriously?" Anna asked.
"The reef is beautiful," Jacques said, his voice oddly wistful and sad. He looked around the large room- at the ceiling tiles, the cracked linoleum and the cheap plastic chairs. Then, he looked out of the window, to the sea that spread to the horizon. Finally, he looked at Lawrence, who smiled warmly at him. "I...belong there."
"You do," Lawrence said softly, nodding in agreement. "You really do. Once the seas have calmed, we'll get you back. And I better buy a new bloody boat."
"Oh yes, I have a message from Katie for you, Lawrence: She says that next time you save someone's life, don't wreck tens of thousands of dollars of equipment doing it, please."
"Huh, got it," Lawrence said with a grunt. He grinned suddenly. "Any chance I can have a bigger boat this time? One that'd stand up a tropical storm?"
"Don't bet on it," Anna said warningly. She stood up and unconsciously wiped the slime off her arms. "Well, I better get on. I just wanted to pop by and say hi. Remember what I said, Jacques: anything you need, ok?"
"I will bear that in mind, merci."
Anna left with a brisk nod.
Lawrence chuckled slightly to himself.
"What iss sso amusing?"
"You," Lawrence replied easily, ignoring Jacques' glare. "You get to be the big damn hero, and suddenly being a squid-man is absolutely fine. You're the vainest man I've ever met, you know that? What kind of Spy loves being the centre of attention?"
"A terrible one," Jacques admitted with a resigned sigh.
"I won't tell anyone if you don't," Lawrence said with a grin. One of Jacques' tentacles slithered out of the tank and curled around Sniper's arm. Lawrence stroked it with a fond smile. "By tomorrow, we should be able to go home."
"Home?"
"Uh, I mean the reef, of course," Sniper stammered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down.
"Yes," Jacques said firmly, squeezing his arm slightly. "Home."
As the tropical storm moved north, it turned into Hurricane Dawn, and went on to wreak havoc in Florida. However, it was no longer the Institute's problem at that point, although Engineer Dell looked out at the ragged clouds and wondered if he could make a weather machine, one day.
Demo Malcolm looked out onto the wind-swept seascape outside his window. The sun was setting, and little whisps of torn clouds scattered around the red sky. Tomorrow would be a better day. For most of them.
He opened the window and let the silence seep into the room. A cool breeze played with his tightly curled hair for a moment, before he turned back to the sofa and sat down next to its other occupant. Anna leant against his side and closed her eyes as he handed her a warm mug.
"Coffee," He said.
"Mmm," She replied, eyes still closed. She held the mug close and breathed in its vapours before taking a sip. "This coffee is just like you."
"Huh?" Malcolm sat up a bit more and looked at her suspiciously, waiting for her to say that old, tired joke.
"Hot, sweet, and with a dash of liquor," She explained with a small smile.
"For a second there I thought you were gonna...ah, to hell wi' it." He settled back down again and draped an arm around her neck. She settled into it with a sigh. He took a sip of his drink, enjoying the way the aromatic flavour poured through his mouth and nose.
"Mal, did we do the right thing?" Anna said, taking another sip of coffee.
"With Erwin?" Malcolm asked. "Damned if I know. I'm no' sure there even was a right thing to do."
"I don't think he meant to kill Jacques. Not ever," Anna said. "He just said that because he didn't want to be locked up for ten years."
"What he did do to Jacques though...bloody hell. It's a pure nightmare."
She shook her head. "Glad it wasn't me."
"Jacques asked for it. That's the bloody bonkers bit of this. He asked for it. Not the tentacles an' all that swaddlin', but the changing colour and spiky skin. He wanted it."
"And now he doesn't want to change back," Anna added.
"Really?" Malcolm asked in surprise.
"I asked him earlier today. Albrecht had said he could change him back-mostly- with surgery. He said no."
Anna sat up slightly, leaving a cold patch on Malcolm's side. Instinctively, he tried to draw nearer to her, but he could see she had gone into 'business mode'. He sighed in resignation.
"We'll need a new Spy. Gabriel has been sniffing about, so I think he'd be interested. I...guess we'll also need a Medic. Albrecht's the best of the bunch, but he's got Vlad to, uh, look after, so it can't be him. Uwe's got his aging experiments to do and..." Malcolm placed a finger on her lips, and she went adorably cross-eyed looking down at it.
"You cannae switch off, can you? Not ever," Malcolm said softly. "It's been a tough day. You've got to stop sometimes, take a break, take a rest, lassie."
She looked down and sighed. "I...try to. But I don't know how! I was never taught it... I don't..."
His hand moved to her chin and she looked up at him, her eyes reflecting the red sky behind them. At that moment, she looked vulnerable yet strong, confused yet determined, wise and yet naive. She had everything he did not have but she needed him as much as he needed her. Since Peru, they had kept each other grounded in the real world. He knew it, and so did she.
She was his newest addiction.
He moved closer to her, breathing out softly.
"Lassie, I..."
Before he could finish, she pulled him close and their lips connected. She tasted of coffee and lipstick, and a soothing, deep warmth flooded right into his bones, as if she was giving him the breath of life. They separated, and she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his, breathing his name softly. He stroked the glistening strands of her hair while his heart pounded, mouth open in delighted shock. She breathed out softly and then smiled at him.
"Well...that worked."
Before she could say more, he lifted her chin up and kissed her again, as her slender arms slid around the back of his neck to... oh God!... that little sensitive spot right on his spine...
"Anna Pauling, Engineer Tyler, and Demo Malcolm, please report to the lobby immediately," A Spy's voice rang out over the intercomm. They both startled and their noses banged together painfully.
"Ugh, what now?!" She said impatiently, leaning back from Malcolm.
"Ach, bloody hell," Malcolm grumbled. "Can ye try to be a little less important sometime?"
She sighed in resignation. "They want you as well."
"Huh, maybe I'm important too."
"You are to me," She replied.
He pulled her close for a second and gave her another lightning-fast kiss. "Let's see what that noisy pillock wants, then we can come back, ok?"
She nodded and they quickly left his room and headed down the lobby. As the lift doors hissed open, her mouth dropped open as she saw Spy Marcus standing by the reception desk, pointing a pistol and looking cautiously at the three men in the doorway- two standing, one in a wheelchair.
One of the standing men was swaying with exhaustion, had a black eye, and his clothes were ripped, filthy and mud-stained. An entire chunk of material was missing from his labcoat, leaving the threads to unravel messily. He turned and glared at her, righteous anger radiating from every single particle of his being. Anna's mouth dropped open in blank astonishment.
"Er...Erwin?"
"Of course," He replied shortly. He gestured at the silent man in the wheelchair. "And zhis man vishes to meet us all."
"Who...is he?" Anna asked, realising as she did so that she already knew the answer.
"His name is Carmine."
In Chapter Thirty-Five: Why does Carmine have a vendetta against the Institute? And...did they actually deserve it?