Surface Agent X-20 found himself disliking Colonel White the longer than man droned on the television on how peace was restored, normality returned and justice served. Apparently justice involved executing Captain Black.

Oh X-20 was pleased the Mysterons were no longer going to be wreaking havoc, but he was appalled that surface dwellers, deprived of the ability to lob punitive measures against Mars, decided to focus their revenge on Conrad.

He knew why, of course, but as a surface agent, he'd also heard so much of claptrap they went on about, about Compassion and Forgiveness and Understanding from them for nearly two thirds of a century.

Hypocrites.

It wasn't as if Conrad had set out to start a war.

It did worry him that his friend had plead guilty; Conrad had to be well and truly broken.

He had looked exhausted.

Defeated.

Hopeless.

Alone.

That was other reason X-20 detested Colonel White. Conrad had spoken so warmly of the man, and of what a good man he was. That he was a good friend.

Then X-20 heard where they were holding Conrad until his execution. He knew the island that prison was on. Knew the underwater and underground caves the surface dwellers never dreamed existed.

X-20 smiled deviously.


It took a great deal of effort for Conrad to wake up. A leaden heaviness filled his consciousness. (Drugs? The air had started to smell sickly sweet before he passed out.) Part of him welcomed it. He wouldn't mind sleeping until he was executed.

Oversleep my own execution, a darkly droll thought drifted through his head

But nagging little details kept poking at his mind.

This air was fresh. Whatever was he was laying on currently was much softer than the cot he had lain down on. An inexpertly played, but joyful piano wafted distantly.

He felt safe.

It was the stickiness of tears, and the overwhelming need to blow his nose that finally drove him to full consciousness.

Conrad sat up and rubbed the blurring tears from from his eyes. Pointlessly, it turned out, as he just started crying again when he realized where he was.


"You're getting better," a soft hoarse voice came from behind X-20.

"I've been practicing, my friend," X-20 smiled to himself, but continued to play until the piece was done; until Conrad had turned up the first time he had never thought to actually learn how to play the piano. He rose from the piano and turned noting that Conrad had washed, and changed from the grubby prison uniform to some of the clothing he had left behind when the Mysterons had decided to remove him from the Island of Lemoy two years ago. It hung worrisomely loose on him.

"I wasn't...I didn't think...Thank you," Conrad's eyes were rimmed red, and if indications held true would probably would be for the next few days, "I didn't expect this."

X-20 took Conrad's elbow and made him sit down in an armchair. He patted Conrad on the shoulder before going to make his surface dwelling friend a cup of that obnoxiously sweet tea he liked.

"Welcome home, my friend."