The Khagan's bridge is like the inside of a greenhouse - stuffy, bright, and warm - and the bridge window is filled by the grey-blue sky. There's the faint yet persistent whiff of electronics and old socks.
Gansukh is standing near the wheel, talking quietly with her helmsman, who's some short Water Tribe-looking guy with a round, earnest baby seal face. It takes Wei a moment to recall the guy's name, but he's pretty sure that he's is called... Siluk, or something. Everyone in the organization needs to wear a name badge; Wei's memory isn't getting any better. He's been hit in the head a lot during his lifetime.
Gansukh and Siluk keep talking as Wei approaches. Wei is a little gratified to discover that, rather than scheming to overthrow him, they're just discussing the merits of various hangover cures.
"Captain?" Wei says.
Gansukh glances over, then turns to face him, straightening her shoulders. "Yes, sir?"
"I'd like to call a meeting."
For a second, it almost looks like Gansuhk is going to follow the order without question - she nods once, and glances towards the speaking tube - but then she says, "Alright. Are you going to tell us what's going on now?"
Lan is behind Wei's left shoulder and out of sight, but Wei swears she's holding her breath.
Wei scratches his chin, and looks out the bridge's window. "Well..." he begins. Shit this is awkward. "You've heard what people are saying about Amon being a waterbender, right?"
Gansukh opens her mouth to speak, pauses, and gives Wei a sudden look of understanding. Her expression turns ugly.
"You," she says. "How long have you known?"
Lan takes a small step forward, putting herself at the edge of Wei's vision.
"What?" Wei says, and takes a moment to figure out what Gansukh is implying. She's clearly had time to listen to the rumor mill over the ship's radio. "I've known he was a bloodbender since yesterday, 'cos, uh, that'd be when he fucking bloodbent me. You think I'd knowingly associate with someone like that?"
"You were the one closest to him," Gansukh says. "You must've suspected something."
"There wasn't anything I could prove," Wei says. "And even if I had proof, how many people wouldn't have believed it anyway?"
Gansukh keeps staring at him for a while longer. Then, for a split second, she glances to Lan, then uncurls her hands and breathes out.
"Why didn't you tell me about Amon when you first boarded my ship?" Gansukh asks.
"Because we had other priorities. If I had told you back then, what difference would it've made?" Wei says.
"It would've showed me you were honest."
Wei considers turning around and walking away, but he's not sure where he'd actually go, given how he's stuck on an airship and all. "Yeah, well, I'm being honest with you now. Look, if you don't trust me, fine. I'm not entitled to anyone's trust, especially not after what's happened. You've got good reason to be pissed off and, you know, fuck it, I don't know what to say to you. But I don't want to fight you over any of this. It'd be pointless." And messy. If they got into a brawl on the Khagan's bridge, the fight'd be all elbows and fists everywhere and people getting their faces smashed against all the pointy brass fixtures, and Lan might randomly explode because she's smuggling nitroglycerin in her drawers or whatever.
Gansukh crosses her arms. She exchanges a glance with Siluk, who keeps his mouth shut and maintains a neutral expression.
"I'm... not happy about the way things have turned out," Gansukh says, like that isn't obvious. Still, Wei finds it reassuring that her anger seems genuine. There's nothing cool or calculating about her right now. She's just some poor asshole who's sacrificed her career for nothing (and it was a pretty good career, truth be told) and is now responsible for an airship full of fugitives. If Wei could bother to waste empathy on people who hated him, he'd feel sorry for her.
"Well, at least you believe Amon's a bloodbender," Wei says.
Gansukh draws another deep breath, as if she's counting to ten. "What do you intend to do next?"
Get drunk and cry. Turn heterosexual. Throw myself off a cliff. "Guess I'm gonna have to find him and make him eat his teeth," Wei says. "Assuming I can get to him before anybody else does."
"Well, if Amon's missing, we have to get to him first," says Gansukh; she's already smoothed some of the emotion out of her voice. "It's bad enough that we've lost Mr. Sato already."
Yeah, that'll be a problem. Sato should offer some resistance when questioned, but Amon has shown himself to be the sort of person who'd likely sell them all out in a heartbeat. He's just a special kind of asshole, an asshole who goes above and beyond the requirements of regular assholery.
"I got some ideas for tracking Amon down. I just need to survive long enough to see my plans through," Wei says, then carefully straightens his back so he's standing at his full height. "Actually, let me ask you, Gansukh: what do you intend to do next? Because my gut feeling is that the organization'll fracture. At the very least, we're gonna end up with two groups: the people who think Amon's a bloodbender, and people who think he isn't. And when everybody realizes that the organization's gonna split, they'll make a grab for any materiel that's left over, and then they'll try to form their own little cliques so's they can do their own thing. So what's your next move?"
Gansukh looks out the window. "You've read the inventory I gave you, I take it?"
"Yeah. I know we're on borrowed time."
Gansukh gives a distracted nod. "My main concern is money. I don't need to tell you how much it costs just to maintain this ship. And I'm not interested in... In politics. I'm willing to believe that Amon was, well, ah... Well, I'm willing to believe that he lied to us. I'm not going to waste time arguing about it with anyone. My goal is survival."
Money. Right. There are still a few backers who they could approach, but shit, Amon's left them all looking like a bunch of chumps. Wei might have to swallow his pride and grovel (so maybe it's fortunate that he doesn't have a lot of pride left). There's only one guy who's still likely to lend them money in a pinch without question, and that's the shipping magnate. And the shipping magnate is 1) a scumbag, and 2) easily the most annoying person Wei has ever met, so-
Gansukh interrupts Wei's train of thought. "I'll help you find Amon because I don't like loose ends," she says. "However, if you catch him... Then what?"
"I'll kill him," Wei says, without hesitation.
"You're not going to ask him why he did, uh... what he did?" Gansukh asks.
"Nah. Some guys don't have a why. I'm just gonna kill him quickly and be done with it. Last thing I want to do is hear that bastard talk again."
Gansukh scratches the side of her neck, mulling over this, then shrugs. "Killing him is much easier than trying to take him alive. How're you going to prove it's him, though?"
"I know his boot size and his measurements for armor. I figure that'll do."
"Ugh. That's a little..." Gansukh begins, then glances to Lan as she addresses Wei. "...I mean, given that we're dealing with such a dangerous individual, how will that work in practice? For a start, how are you going to track him down?"
"I've got some clothes with his scent on them, and I know a shirshu tracker who can be trusted," Wei says. "However, that'll have to wait a while. Right now, I'm more concerned with what I'll say to the other guys when we land. I need to explain all this shit to people without them lynching me."
Gansukh exchanges looks with Siluk.
"If I was you," she offers, "I wouldn't try to explain anything. The others will have heard the rumors by now. A lot of them will have already made up their minds as to whether Amon's a bloodbender or not. And it'll be a lose-lose situation for you: either you'll look like a liar, or you'll look like a dupe."
Wei fights back a pang of anger at her honesty. "Yeah, don't I know it. But I have to say something. Silence would be worse."
"Can I make a suggestion?"
Wei inwardly grimaces. "Go ahead."
"What we you didn't meet up with the other cells, but kept going south to one of the other fuel reserves?" Gansukh says.
Wei eyes her. "And how would you explain that?"
"We could just tell people that we thought the assembly point had been compromised, and that we'd contact them once we were sure it was safe to do so."
"So you'd lie to them."
Gansukh's façade slips, and she looks genuinely angry again. "Oh come on, what's one more lie? We're all in this situation because Amon lied to us, and we lied to ourselves. Everything's just varying degrees of denial at this point."
Wei glances to Lan, to see how she's faring. Lan is looking at the floor, dejection plain on her face.
"Lan?" Wei prompts. "What do you think?"
"I don't feel qualified to comment, sir," Lan murmurs.
Lan rarely ever calls Wei 'sir'.
Wei considers things. In all fairness, Gansukh has a point. If he tells the other Equalists that Amon's a bloodbender, he's going to look like the world's biggest asshole. You can't just go up to a bunch of people and admit that their leader is a fraud. Wei's hurt people for saying less than that.
But Wei follows Gansukh's suggestion and postpones meeting up with the other cells, then what? He'll be stuck aboard the Khagan with her, isolated from the rest of the organization. And he has no idea what she might tell (or what she's already told) the others.
"So, lemme get this right, Gansukh," Wei says. "A moment ago, you were bitching at me for not telling you the truth as soon as I boarded your ship. But now you're suggesting I lie to everyone else?"
Gansukh opens her mouth, but hesitates a little too long before speaking.
Wei cuts her off. "For your sake, I'm gonna assume that you're just saying stupid shit because you're angry and under stress. 'Cos I like to have good faith in people, and I know you wouldn't want to compromise the safety of your crew. Right, Lan?"
He hates having to use Lan as a crutch like this, but she's the only person on the ship who'd be useful in combat right now. She's the only leverage he's got.
Lan lifts her head, and gives Gansukh a speculative look.
Siluk keeps his gazed fixed on the skies ahead, but leans away from Gansukh ever so slightly.
Gansukh carefully adopts a blank expression. "Well, it was a suggestion. You saw how I reacted when you confirmed that Amon was a bloodbender. You must know that others might react a little more... dramatically than I did. And you said yourself that it'll probably be everyone for themselves from this point onwards."
"Even so, I think we'll stick with the contingency plan so's I can let people know what happened," Wei says.
Gansukh just nods. "Of course. I can tell you that the Wolong and the Kilat already reached the meeting point a few hours ago. Captain Takamori says the area is secure."
"Alright." For her sake, Gansukh had better be telling the truth. "In the meantime, I'd like a word with Sungchul and Guo," Wei says.
"Certainly. I was wondering when you'd ask," Gansukh says, and turns to the speaking tube. Finally.
The bridge gets kind of cosy with Sungchul and Guo in it.
Guo is the crew's navigator. How Guo ended up becoming a navigator, Wei has no idea, because Guo looks like a platypus bear that's been shaved and cruelly forced to wear human clothes. Maybe the Khagan had a proper human-sized navigator at some point, but Guo ate him and took his place.
Sungchul's relatively nondescript. The worst thing Wei can say about Sungchul is that Sungchul might be using engine grease as hair pomade.
Wei wedges himself into a corner, and watches as Sungchul squeezes past Guo to take a seat at the navigator's table, quickly getting to work with some paper and charcoal.
Guo looms over Sungchul's shoulder as he draws. Guo insists that the eyes need to be further apart, the mouth needs to be broader (but not that broad), the cheekbones are flatter, the nose isn't that big, and so on. They enjoy a brief argument over the shape of Amon's chin. The argument is only resolved after Sungchul threatens to shove a charcoal stick up Guo's nose, though he'd probably need a step ladder to achieve this.
Eventually they get a picture that Guo claims is sort of (generally) accurate, and everyone crowds around to look.
"I don't know, though," Sungchul says. "It looks like I just drew a picture of Councilman Tarrlok."
Yeah, Wei can see the likeness. The guy depicted in the sketch has a similar brow. But if the picture was meant to be portrait of the Councilman, then it's a pretty flattering one.
"No, Councilman Tarrlok isn't as, uh..." Gansukh begins, then seems to think very hard about the comment she was about to make.
"Councilman Tarrlok looks more punchable," Guo says. "He has a supremely punchable face. Like a fist-magnet."
"What do you think happened to Councilman Tarrlok, anyway?" Sungchul says as he picks charcoal out from under his nails.
"Last I knew, he was on Air Temple Island," says Wei, then looks to Gansukh. "Right?"
Gansukh shakes her head. "Amaguk told me we'd lost the island about half an hour after things went wrong at the rally, and now no one knows where the Councilman is."
Well shit, Wei is out of the loop. "Didn't the authorities get him when they took the island?"
"The police made a statement about him being missing. I heard it on the radio," Gansukh says. "Of course, whether you want to actually believe the police is another matter."
Tarrlok could've yielded some useful information about Amon, but now he's probably dead or in police custody or he's fucked off back to the Old Country so he can continue to kidnap teenage girls with impunity. Wei sighs. "Does Amon have any other alleged relatives I don't know about?"
"No. Just Tarrlok, according to the media," says Gansukh.
"You sure? He's not got any long-lost second-cousins, no step-siblings, no evil twins or nothing like that? I'm just asking 'cos in the past month I've got jumped by not one but two surprise bloodbenders, and if happens again and it turns out they're all related to each other, I'm going to shit."
Sungchul takes a deep breath "This would be a bad time for me to admit that I'm also actually a bloodbender, right?"
"Crap," says Guo. "So am I."
"Actually," Sungchul adds, looking up at Wei, "We're all bloodbenders. All of us. Except you. Sorry. We were trying to think of a tactful way to tell you, but..."
Wei absolutely does not smile. He has nothing to smile about. "I knew it," he says, grimly. "I'd fight you all, but I got back problems, so if you could just do me a big favor and kick yourselves in the dick, that'd be great, thanks."
Sungchul grins briefly, and taps his charcoal against the table. "And now I'm wondering: how do you fight a bloodbender?"
"Obviously not by running straight at him like I did," Wei says. "Nah, you just need to stay out of their reach. We've been relying on the fact that a lot of benders are weaker at close combat 'cos they're used to making ranged attacks, but with a bloodbender, you obviously can't get all up in their space."
Siluk is still at the helm, watching the clouds, but he helpfully offers, "We could just bomb him."
"That doesn't sound very satisfying, to be honest," Guo says.
"Well, we got to find the guy first," Wei says. "Then we'll see." (But what are they going to do if they can't find him? How long will people be willing to support Wei's little revenge mission?)
"He's probably drunk under a table somewhere," Gansukh mutters, without needing to add, 'that's where I'd be'.
Wei smiles ruefully. "Hm, no, he's not like that. He's probably got everything set up so he can run away and start a new life on Ember Island or whatever."
Lan has been quiet for a while, but now she speaks up. "If I was a bloodbender, I'd go where there's lots of people. Plenty of shields."
Everyone shuts up for a moment to think about that.
"Hey. When you saw the waterbender in the bay, did you see him attack anyone?" Gansukh asks Guo.
Guo shakes his head. "Nope. He just ran. Or... swam, whatever."
"That's odd," Gansukh says, scratching her chin. "If I was him, I would've started hurling civilians at the Avatar."
"That's because you have no capacity for shame, Captain," Guo cheerfully informs her.
Gansukh has a point, though. If Wei was a bloodbender and he had nothing to lose, he'd be pelting hapless bystanders at anyone who dared to get in his way. He'd be twisting people's limbs off for fun. "I don't think shame had anything to do with it," Wei says. "Shame's gotta be a foreign concept to someone who lies to people for years. He's just a coward, that's all. Probably lost his nerve 'cos he suddenly realized he was much dumber and more vulnerable than he thought."
"We don't..." Lan begins, then seems to reconsider what she was about to say. "I mean, I've never seen Amon panic. That doesn't sound like him. Like, even when a situation got out of control, he'd stay calm. He'd adapt."
"He was only human," Wei says. A very quiet, sober human, but human all the same. (Wei remembers the way he smelled, and the weight of his body, and - irritatingly - how gentle he could be when it suited him.) "He's gonna bleed the same as anybody else. I'm not expecting him to be an easy target, but I know we can deal with him. Bloodbending's the kind of technique where the bender's only got a real advantage if they can get the drop on people."
"Amon's human, huh?" Sungchul says, wryly. "Huh."
Wei marks Sungchul's attitude as a potential problem. Wei also wants to wince. Technically, no one had ever claimed that Amon wasn't human - it served the cause if people saw him as an ordinary person who was only marked by fate - but... Well. Amon spoke to spirits. Allegedly.
Ordinary people do not speak to spirits.
Though maybe ordinary people should.
"Yeah, well, what can I tell you?" Wei says, suddenly feeling tired. "We all expected better from the guy." And they all saw what they wanted to see. They're all fuckwits, and Wei is chief of the fuckwit clan.
Everyone is quiet for a moment, although Lan's expression suggests she's biting her tongue to keep her mouth shut.
Wei clears his throat. "Anyway," he says, gesturing to Sungchul's portrait of Amon. "Can I have this?"
"Sure, whatever," Sungchul says, handing the portrait over.
Wei carefully folds up the piece of paper and tucks it into his undershirt.
They arrive at their assembly point, Nightjar island, at dawn the next day, a little behind schedule due to the Khagan's busted engine. Wei stands on the bridge during the approach, just so he can eavesdrop on Gansukh's radio conversations. Gansukh does a pretty good job of ignoring him as much as possible.
The island is covered by trees; there are no signs of human habitation. It crosses Wei's mind that if he died in a place like this, miles from anywhere, no one would ever find his corpse. But then again, so what? It's not like Republic City is much safer; that place has its own share of disappearances. Hell, disappearing isn't even the worst thing that can happen to a guy. (Wei's seen the work of triad earthbenders firsthand. If you hear someone's gone missing, that's bad, but it's still better than than watching their friends and family digging in the dirt with their bare hands while the entire street just watches, too scared to intervene. Six minutes. That's how long they say it takes for a person to suffocate.)
Wei tries to think of something less morbid.
He tells himself that the trees should remind him of the countryside where he grew up. He tells himself that he shouldn't feel lost.
The city was kind of a shithole, really. Maybe he should be happy if he never has to see it again.
Gansukh signals with the the Khagan's lights to ask for permission to land. Within a matter of minutes, some of the trees part to reveal a clearing, just large enough to accommodate the Khagan's envelope. It looks like the other airships are already out of sight, camouflaged with their surroundings.
The Khagan gently lowers itself to the ground. After the dust settles, Wei looks out the bridge window. The darkness between the trees is absolute.
Fortunately, it isn't long before Takamori, the captain of the Kilat, steps out from the shadows and approaches them. He holds up a hand to signal that it's safe. A few grey silhouettes loiter some way behind him; Wei hopes they're Takamori's crew.
Gansukh and her crew go through a few mandatory post-flight checks before disembarking, though Guo and Siluk remain behind on the ship as a precaution. Wei follows Gansukh; Lan is a step behind him, craning her neck as she looks up at the branches above.
Takamori comes to greet them. He looks tired and sober; a little relieved to see them, maybe.
Wei expects Takamori to ask, 'where Amon?', like Gansukh, but instead Takamori just says, "Glad you made it here alright. We're a little short-staffed, but the repairs on your ship should take a day or so. Most of the others are at the listening station."
Wei remembers seeing the plans for the island. There's a machine shop, an underground fuel reservoir, a small dock, some sheds that contain bunks and spare equipment - and yeah, a listening station. He tries to remember the exact layout of the place so he can think up escape routes, but islands aren't exactly known for their escapability.
"You had any trouble, seen anything odd lately?" Wei asks Takamori.
Takamori breathes out an awkward chuckle. "Well, I... I'll tell you later. But we got here without running into trouble, and the island's secure."
Hmm.
Lan glances over her shoulder, back at the Khagan.
Wei gives Takamori a sideways look. "Tell me what later?"
"Oh. Uh. We saw lights under the sea when we were passing by the Haetae Isles awhile back," Takamori says. "Big lights. Could've been a school of fish, I don't know, but..." He shrugs. "We're pretty close to the Winter Solstice, so I figured, maybe..."
"You saw a sea monster?" Wei says flatly.
"Could've been the Haetae," Lan mutters. "Do Haetae swim?"
Takamori gives another quick shrug, smiling nervously.
Wei considers asking further questions, but decides against it. He wonders what a sea monster would taste like. Maybe the Equalists will have to take up fishing if they can't secure a proper income within the next few weeks.
They pass under the canopy of trees to the flimsy metal hut that houses the listening station. The building looks like it'd fall over if Wei sneezed on it. Apparently Sato didn't have much money left after building all those platinum mecha tanks.
As they near the shed, Wei spots a few members of the third chi blocking team milling around. They're still wearing their uniforms, including their masks.
Why are they still wearing their masks?
Wei looks back over his shoulder, but there's just the heavy velvet curtain darkness of the forest.
He glances over at Gansukh. She looks back at him, a little wide-eyed, but doesn't say anything. Lan is just a step behind her, although she's still peering at the branches above.
You know when you fall, and you get that sick anticipation of the impact right before the ground hits you? That's the feeling he gets.
Even so, he still steps into the listening station, because he doesn't fancy trying to run back to the Khagan at this point.
The only person inside is the listening station a bespectacled young woman with large, patient blue eyes and a vulpine Fire Nation-y face. Her hair is tucked under a headscarf, and she's wearing a pair of overalls, but she still manages to look prim. Wei's sure he's seen her before, somewhere, but he knows she's not part of the organization. She's standing by one of the radio sets. She offers a bow.
Wei pauses in the doorway and looks back at Lan, Gansukh, and the rest of the crew. Takamori has made himself scarce. The chi blockers seem to be slightly closer than they were a moment ago. Lan has now clearly noticed them, because her hands are curled into fists.
The woman in the listening station gives a soft little 'ahem'. "Sir? No one means you any harm," she tells Wei, like he's meant to believe that.
Wei keeps his attention on Lan, and gives her a 'don't you fucking dare, young lady' sort of look. There is a time and a place for Lan's methods, and this isn't it. She'd better not do anything stupid. Wei's the only person here who has the privilege of making terrible decisions. And while he has no idea what they're dealing with yet, instinct tells him that it isn't the triads or the United Forces. Otherwise things would be a lot messier.
Lan lets out a small sigh.
Wei considers the woman in the listening station again.
"My employer would just like a word with you," the woman says. "Everything is already set up."
There's a chair by the radio set. The woman gestures to it.
Wei slowly approaches the radio set, but prefers to stand. Someone closes the door behind him, and Wei fights back a wave of nausea. He does the best to ignore the unhelpful little voice in his head that's telling him he's just made his last mistake.
"What the fuck's going on?" Wei asks the woman. He wonders if these will be his last words. They'd be fitting. Someone should put them on his gravestone, if he ever gets a gravestone, which doesn't seem very likely by this point.
The woman doesn't blink. "My employer will explain."
Wei goes to open the listening station's door again.
"This needs to be a private conversation," the woman says.
"Why?"
"As I said, my employer will explain everything."
"What if I don't want to talk to them?"
"You will."
"Why?"
"What other options do you have?"
"I always have options," Wei says, because that's technically true, although sometimes those options are pretty stupid, like 'sit on the floor and sulk while refusing to speak to anybody'.
"If you speak to my employer," the woman says, slowly, "it can't make your situation any worse."
"Don't you threaten me," Wei says, and opens the door.
Outside, the Khagan's crew are standing in a little huddle, just out of earshot, muttering to each other. Lan is eyeballing one of the guys in the chi blocker uniforms as if she'd like to put his spleen in a jar, and Gansukh is scowling (though when is she not?), but... They don't look too scared, given the circumstances. Just agitated.
"We're trying to help you," the woman says, behind Wei.
Wei snorts, and doesn't look back at her. "Why?"
"You have valuable information."
"Yeah, no. Not really. Apparently I was just Amon's attack dog and occasional fucktoy. Not that I'm bitter about this," Wei says bitterly. "You want to talk to someone who knows stuff, then go find Sato. Call me if you ever, like, need someone who's good at falling off roofs."
Wei looks back at the woman, and she peers at him, eyebrows raised. "Okay, sir, if you say so, but I'm not going to believe any of that for a second. Please talk to my employer."
Well, whatever. Wei decides that he's willing to talk to this asshole purely out of morbid curiosity. If all else fails, at least he can personally tell them to fuck off.
Wei closes the hut's door again, carefully sits down at the chair by the radio set, and picks up the headphones.
He makes a a mental note of the frequency on the dial, as if that'll count for anything. Then he jabs the transmit button for just long enough to say, "What."
At first there's just the crackle of static, but then a voice comes through: "Testing, testing... You can hear me, right? Over."
The voice is male, and it doesn't have an accent that Wei can place. Like a lot of things in Wei's life, it seems vaguely, frustratingly familiar.
Wei doesn't reply, but looks around the listening station, taking in the corrugated iron walls and the racks of electronics. His gaze settles on the woman: she just stands there, shoulders square, hands clasped behind her back, and looks back at him with cool disinterest.
"Hee-llo?" says the voice over the radio. "Dammit, is this thing on? Over."
Wei deigns to answer. "I can hear you."
"Great!" says the voice. "Because we need to have a little chitchat. A rap session, if you will. Uh, by the way, if you're not sitting down already, you might want to-"
Wei holds the transmit button down. "Wait."
The voice sounds like it belongs to a total asshole. Wei goes through the long list of total assholes he's known during his lifetime. It takes him a moment to find the right name, and then... Ah. Shit. It's him. It's that guy.
It's the shipping magnate.
"You. What do you want?" Wei growls, before grudgingly releasing the transmit button again.
"Whoa, I'm sensing a lot of hostility here," says the shipping magnate. "Relax, Lieutenant, I'm on your side. I've already done you a bunch of favors already! Do you have any idea how close you got to crossing paths with a United Forces patrol when the Khagan passed the Yiwen coast? PRETTY CLOSE. And do you know who distracted that patrol by deploying a distress flare a few miles north? That's right: ME. So maybe you should be saying 'thank you', because we're both meant to be civilised men capable of having a civilised conversation about civilised things in a civilised manner. Over."
If it wasn't for his bad back, Wei would slowly lean forwards until his head would hit the tabletop with a thunk. He does not like the shipping magnate.
Wei is developing a special contempt for the Water Tribe.
"Hello?" the shipping magnate asks. "Lieutenant? Over."
"What the fuck do you want?" Wei repeats.
"Ha ha, c'mon, let's not make this about me. You're much more interesting than I am. I mean, you're a genocidal terrorist. Wait. Sorry. Not a terrorist. 'Revolutionary'. You're a genocidal revolutionary! Doesn't get more interesting than that! I bet you'd be real fun at parties! Except... No one's ever gonna invite you to a party ever again, because EVERYONE HATES YOU. I gotta say, attacking the Air Nomads was a dick move that cost you a lot of sympathy points. Kinda overstepped yourself there, pal. Do you know how easy it was for me to find out your location? You're just lucky I got to you before anybody else did. Over."
Wei presses the transmit button just so he can sigh into the microphone for a whole three seconds. "Okay, don't tell me... I've figured out what you want. You're gonna offer me your protection in exchange for... something, right? Fuck, you're predictable. Over."
"EXACTLY." There's a sound that might be the shipping magnate clapping his hands together. "...Though, sheesh, you make it sound like a bad thing. Don't you want my protection? Or would you rather spend the rest of your days in a prison cell? Because prison looks like the next best scenario! At least in prison, the guards can only hurt you in ways that don't leave obvious injuries, whereas if the triads get their hands on you, then... Well, let's just say that they're gonna enjoy a little more creative freedom. Heck, I don't know, maybe you wouldn't mind prison so much. Maybe you even miss it. Maybe you got kinda... What's the word? Institutionalizeded."
Don't react, Wei tells himself, trying to ignore the nausea gnawing at his gut. He shouldn't be surprised by how much the shipping magnate knows. The shipping magnate is in a different league. The guy has more money than sense.
The shipping magnate continues, "Hey, I hear United Republic prisons are still mostly staffed by earthbenders. Guess things haven't changed much in the past... what, twenty-five years? Over."
Somehow, Wei still manages to keep his voice level, despite the pressing need to commit murder. "You're laying it on kinda thick here, pal. You're not exactly winning me over. Uh. Over."
"Just speaking a language you understand. You got a rep for being real stubborn, you know that? Like pathologically stubborn. Anyway, yeah, you got it: I can offer you protection in exchange for information. Nice and straightforward. Over."
Wei lets out a chuckle that just sounds downright sad. "Right. And how do I know you're not just gonna take the information and then kill me, given how I can identify you and all? Over."
The guy laughs. "Sorry, Lieutenant, but you don't pose THAT much of a threat to me. And I'm a nice guy! I'd prefer to let you live. And you want to live, don't you? Picture it now. New name, new identity. No more hard floors. No more sleep deprivation! No more looking over your shoulder. No more watered-down congee or expired army rations for breakfast. No more broken ribs. Freedom! The central Earth Kingdom's pretty nice around this time of year. You're not getting any younger. How's your back feeling, by the way? You might want to get a proper doctor to look at that. I knew a guy once, accidentally stepped off the side of a fishing trawler and hit the quay below. Just kind of bounced right off it. Anyway, he seemed alright apart from some back pain, kept doing his job as normal... And then, get this, a week later he wakes up and finds that he can't move his legs. Ha HA, spines are weird! Over!"
Well, Wei thought he couldn't hate anyone more than he hated Amon, but he might've been wrong about that.
"If I don't pose a threat to you, then why've you got your goons posted here?" Wei asks. "And what the fuck did you do with my chi blockers?"
"Yeah, don't mind the goons, they're only there to make sure you don't do anything stupid. And... Wait a minute, let me check my notes..." There's the rustle of paper. "...This is the point where I say, 'we can do things the easy way, or we can do things the hard way'. I'm a little concerned that you might choose the hard way, because it's a known fact that you are utterly insane and you want to fight the entire universe, but I also figure that, hey, maybe you're miserable and tired enough to see reason. So what'll you choose, Lieutenant? Over."
Wei closes his eyes. Even if he could get past the goons, he'd still be stuck on this island.
"What did you do with the chi blockers?" Wei repeats.
"They're in the hold of one of my airships. They're okay. Plucky bunch of kids you got there. What's the age of the oldest? Twenty? You get 'em while they're young, huh. Do you hand out free candy during recruitment drives or something? Over."
Wei refrains from telling him to fuck off, the oldest is 25 because that's when people reach their peak performance, and the younger ones are useful because they've picked up fewer bad habits. "They're okay?"
"They're okay. I mean, alright, I think one guy broke a wrist after punching one of my minions in the ol' beanbag, but no permanent harm done. 'Course, it probably helps that they're all under heavy sedation. Can't have them running around and backflipping all over the place. Over."
Wei silently counts to ten, trying to decide if he believes this or not, then asks, "What sort of information do you want?"
"Stuff on your crazy ex, mostly, and... Isn't it funny how everyone has a crazy ex? Hey, do you ever wonder if maybe you're the crazy ex? Like-"
Wei presses the transmit button to cut him off. "You mean Amon?"
"Yeah. Holy moly, Lieutenant, how many crazy exes do you have? Over."
"What do you want with him?"
The magnate tsks. "Okay, I don't think you understand the nature of our relationship: I'm meant to be asking you questions, you're not meant to be asking me questions. But I'll tell you anyway: he's of interest to science. He knows brain things. Over."
"What'll you do with him?"
"Why do you care? Maybe you should be a little less worried about him and a little more worried about yourself. You could still have a pretty good life, pal. You ever heard that living well is the best revenge? Over."
Wei's finger hovers over the transmit button. He doesn't say anything.
The shipping magnate evidently gets bored of waiting for a reply, because there's a click, and he asks,"You want to kill him, right? Over."
Wei still doesn't reply.
"Look, if you give me information on Amon, I'll pay your therapy bill for you," the magnate says, chipper as always. "...Well, so long as it doesn't bankrupt me, anyway. So what do you say? We got a deal or not? Over."
Wei sits there for a while, staring into space, then presses the transmit button and says, "You're a... a fuckhole. Over."
"And you're just rude. No wonder Amon did most of the talking. Imagine if you had to stand on stage and give a little speech. You'd be like, 'my friggin Equalists, the fragging time has come to rid the world of fother mucking bender supremacy, tonight we're going to capture the Avatar and kick her in the fricklefrackle' and so forth. But it's okay, I'm not going to hold it against you. Do we have a deal?"
Wei rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Can I talk to the others before I commit to anything?"
"Hmmm. Let me think. No."
Wei opens his mouth and almost asks, 'what about the people who came here with me? What are you going to do with them?' but then he stops himself. By revealing that he gives a shit, he'd just be putting them at risk, and it's bad enough that he's showed concern over the chi blockers already.
Still, he asks, "Why not?"
"Don't trust 'em. There were a lot of people willing to sell you out, pal. And you know what, that's fine, I'm not judging them for that, but it doesn't exactly make them look trustworthy, you know? That's why I just want to deal with you. You might hate my guts, but I think you're fundamentally honest and reliable."
"You expect me to believe that?" Wei asks. "You just want to isolate me from the rest of the organization."
"Lieutenant, I don't think you're following me: I'm able to be here, talking to you right now, because people have already ratted on you. It's a dog-eat-dog world, buddy. As I'm sure you're aware. So hey, I guess you're already isolated from the rest of the organization. Sad but true."
Wei glances to the woman in the hut - she's been quiet the whole time - just to see if she's looking at him. He doesn't want anyone seeing his expression right now.
The woman is cleaning her glasses as if she hasn't noticed anything unusual. Wei would like to thank her for her pointed disinterest in him.
He screws his eyes shut for a moment. He has to move forward somehow, he can't afford to pick a fight right now, and he can't stay here in the listening station forever. And it might be worth asking the magnate for the names of all the people who sold him out. Assuming the magnate won't lie, and hasn't lied already.
He presses the transmit button. "Fine. I'll help you. What do you need to know? Over."
"Great! We'll talk more later," the magnate says, blandly. "Out." And then there's just the crackle of static.
The woman puts her glasses back on.
Wei stares at her and drums his fingers against the radio table.
"Are you going to behave, then?" the woman asks.
"Guess so," says Wei.
"Good." She moves closer to him, and looks him up and down. "No offense, but you're known for-..."
There's an odd clank somewhere outside, some distance away. The woman pauses. She gives Wei a 'what the hell was that?' kind of look, and he finds some twisted satisfaction in her unease, even though he should probably be just as worried as she is.
"You stay here," the woman says, then moves to the door of the listening station so she can address someone outside. "Excuse me, I need you to pat this gentleman down for weapons and take him to the mainland. Now. Please."
Having said that, she glances back at Wei, tells him, "Don't move," and slips outside the hut, enviably calm and collected. Barely three seconds pass before she's replaced by two burly goons who're still wearing chi blocker uniforms. Cheeky bastards.
Wei slowly stands up, gritting his teeth, and hopes they won't rough him up, otherwise he'll probably cry and puke on them. Sure, they have no reason to rough him up, but that doesn't mean they won't. People are funny like that.
Fortunately, the goons just do as they're told: they pat him down, and pocket everything he has. Including his painkillers (fuck dammit). It's like a very polite mugging. Wei tells himself that he's binding his time and that when the moment is right, he's going to kill them all, because this makes him feel better.
The goons then usher him out of the listening station. Wei looks around. The area is now deserted. He can't even hear engines. When he peers in the direction of the area where the Khagan is docked, he thinks he might be able to see lights, but that's it.
One of the goons puts a hand on his shoulder, much to his chagrin, and steers him through a narrow path between the trees. Wei keeps looking around for the other Equalists but there's no sight of them. He strains his ears, yet there's just the sound of the wind in the trees. He wants to shiver.
There's absolutely nothing to indicate what caused the clank he heard a few minutes ago. He watches the goons to see if they're nervous, but their expressions are blank and their movements are slow and deliberate.
The trees thin out, and the loam underfoot is replaced by pebbles, and the goons take him to a scrubby, windblasted little beach where a pontoon has been set up. Moored at the pontoon is a speedboat. It's not one of the ones manufactured by Future Industries. Wei boards the boat without being told.
He pays close attention to the sound of the engine starting up. The engine is usually quiet; Wei wishes he could tell Sato about it. The cowling doesn't show anything to indicate who made the thing, and Wei sulks over this as he watches the island recede into the distance.
They travel across choppy grey water for an uncomfortably long time, until they reach a small fishing trawler that's idling out in the ass-end of nowhere. The goons haul Wei aboard.
Wei crams himself onto a small bench in the wheelhouse, and tries to stay awake.
Wei opens his eyes when one of the goons pokes him in the arm. The trawler has stopped bouncing across the waves, and Wei is unspeakably glad about this, because he feels like his back is actively trying to murder him. It's like his spine has been replaced by hundreds of tiny mousetraps.
"Come on," the goon says. "This way."
The trawler has been moored... Uh, somewhere. Somewhere with a beach and lot of big trees covered with vines and moss. Wei squints at the daylight as he's led outside and off the boat. It looks like there's a forest that follows the coastline. He can't see any buildings other than the crude, scrubby little dock he's standing on. The air is warmer than it was in Republic City, though, so they must've travelled east or west rather than back up north.
There's a dirt road leading away from the beach, and there's a Satomobile idling nearby. The goon puts a hand on his shoulder again, and points him towards the vehicle.
Wei labels the current goon Goon #1, though he's not sure if Goon #1 is the official lead dog or not. Goon #1 has a face like a slab of beef that's had human features punched into it. Goon #2 is already standing on the beach. Goon #2 is technically kind of attractive, though this is pretty much wasted on Wei right now. Goon #3 is inside the Satomobile. Goon #3 looks vaguely like a fence Wei used to sell stuff to. Wei wonders what happened to him. Goon #3 also looks extremely bored.
There's also a Goon #4, who was steering the trawler, but it doesn't look like Goon #4 will be accompanying them, so fuck Goon #4, Wei hopes his boat gets eaten by the Haetae Isles sea monster.
Wei is given the back passenger seat of the Satomobile. It must be one of the newer models, because it has safety belts, like an airplane. Wei fastens his belt purely for the hell of it, because it seems hilariously redundant given his general life expectancy. The Satomobile's suspension creaks in protest as the other goons climb inside. Goon #3 vacates the driver's seat so Goon #1 has the wheel.
Goon #1 starts the engine. Wei rubs his eyes and tries to focus.
"You okay, buddy?" Goon #3 asks.
"Yeah," Wei says, "Fine."
"Well, so long as you don't pass out on us," Goon #3 says.
Wei is pretty tempted to drop dead or fall into a coma just to spite everybody.
The Satomobile trundles along for a while. The bumpy dirt road makes it even more uncomfortable than the boat ride. Wei tells himself that, if the Equalists had been victorious, the first thing they would've done was ensure that every road in Republic City was perfectly flat for the benefit of sad old assholes with back injuries.
He looks out the wind and watches the trees go by. He's vaguely aware that he should be plotting his escape, or coming up with some good bullshit to feed to the magnate, but the word 'should' just seems like a pretty novel concept at this point and he swears he can feel his brain slowly shutting down. And that's just not good enough, really, but he doesn't care enough to snap himself out of it.
He yawns.
Out the corner of his eye, he spots a flash of light. Goon #1 is raising a lighter to the cigarette in his mouth. Wei immediately wakes up.
That lighter looks very familiar.
And it looks familiar because it's Wei's. It's the lighter that Goon #1 took from him earlier. Which is funny, because Wei doesn't smoke... Well, not unless he's been set on fire, and getting set on fire is only one of the many horrible things that may befall a man who's foolish enough to use a lighter that was given to them by Lan.
Goon #1 spins the lighter's wheel.
Shit.
Wei can't actually remember what the lighter actually does, so he just screws his eyes shut and hopes for the best.
Nothing happens.
Wei opens his eyes find Goon #3 giving him an odd look, while Goon #1 has paused and is watching him in the rear view mirror, the unlit cigarette dangling from his bottom lip. Wei almost tells him to keep his eyes on the road.
"What the hell's your problem?" Goon #3 asks Wei.
"I thought I was gonna sneeze," Wei answers.
Goon #1 glances down at the lighter, then looks back at Wei in the rear view mirror again. After some thought, he winds down a window and flings the lighter out the window. Wei braces, but the lighter just lands silently somewhere in the undergrowth.
"Listen," Goon #1 says. "We just gotta take you someplace and then you'll be safe. This is meant to be a simple job. We want it to be a simple job. Nobody has to get hurt. Nobody wants any complications. Do you follow?"
"Yeah," Wei says, "Sure."
Goon #1 keeps eyeballing him in the mirror.
Wei eyeballs him right back. "Okay, I'm not sure how stupid you think I am, but there's no way I'm going to try any funny business when I have no idea where I am and I'm stuck in a car with three guys who're bigger than me and I already feel like shit."
Goon #1 mulls over this, then nods. "What happened to you?"
"I got bounced off a wall."
"What, by the Avatar?"
"No."
"My second cousin said he saw her kick you in the face once," Goon #1 says.
Wei opens his mouth to say that never happened and even if it did there's no way some asshole's second cousin would've seen it. But he changes his mind, and just resumes watching the trees.
"What's the tallest building you've ever fallen off?" Goon #1 asks.
Wei hesitates, then answers, "The Republic City Arena."
Goon #1 whistles. "How bad did it mess you up?"
Wei gives a very small shrug, on the defensive. "I was okay. I landed in the water."
Now Goon #3 snorts, and chimes in, "From that height? Landing in the water would still be like hitting the pavement."
"I was okay," Wei repeats, though for some reason, this nags at him.
"Either you're one lucky guy," Goon #3 says, "Or you're a liar."
"Hey," Goon #1 tells Goon #3. "Shut the fuck up, buddy."
Goon #3 gives a little grunt.
"Yeah, don't mind him," Goon #1 says. He takes out his own lighter and puts it to his cigarette. "I was just curious, I didn't want to start an argument about-"
Then all Wei hears is a bang like a Satomobile backfiring right by his head. He reflexively winces and shields his head with one arm, while his other hand grips the seat as the engine revs and the vehicle swerves and accelerates.
He has just enough time to think: you know, my luck is either really good or really bad, I can never tell which-
And then there's a crunch of metal and a jolt of pain - inertia shoves Wei against his seatbelt - then silence. Wei opens his eyes. The windscreen is full of tree trunk. He becomes aware that something is hissing. It's probably the radiator. Yeah, there's a plume of steam coming out the front of the vehicle, and-
Well, looks like they've hit a tree.
Actually, they have definitely hit a tree. Hitting a tree is a thing they have done.
Wei remembers something, Lan's voice: the cigarette in the back, the one that's a different way around to all the others. That one explodes.
This would be why no one ever asks Lan for cigarettes.
Someone groans.
Wei does not turn to look at Goon #1, or what's left of Goon #1's head, and if there are blood spatters inside the car, he pointedly does not notice them.
By now, Wei has had a lot of practice at functioning when things go wrong, so he's able to carefully unbuckle his seatbelt. He then yanks the Satomobile's door open, and runs. His legs don't want to move, and he has to concentrate in order to avoid tripping over his own feet, but adrenaline eclipses the pain. He runs like he's twenty years younger and he's competing in a race where the grand prize is your own personal distillery and a lifetime's supply of good head.
He bolts into the forest and pushes through the undergrowth, covering his face with his arms to keep twigs and branches away from his eyes. It's only when breathing gets too difficult that he dares to look over his shoulder.
Then his right foot misses the ground, and he stumbles.
Old habit keeps him from putting his hands out to break his fall. He braces himself for the impact. The world rushes past him, a blur of dirt and leaves.
The impact takes too long to come, and then there's just a thud, and-
Everything is quiet. Wei opens his eyes. The sky is visible through the gaps in the branches overhead, and there's distant birdsong. There's also something that looks like a small stone cliff just a few steps away from where Wei is lying.
Did I just fall down a ravine? Wei thinks.
His surroundings suggests that yes, yes he did.
That's new, Wei thinks. Never fallen down a ravine before. Fortunately, it's not a very big ravine. The stone is grey and speckled with green moss. The pattern of it looks a little like words, words in a language that Wei doesn't understand. He wants to believe that the words say something profound, and he could just figure them out if he concentrated hard enough.
Wei listens to the world. It's peaceful.
Hey, he then thinks. Maybe the fall fixed my back. Maybe it popped my slipped disc back into place. That'd be ironic.
Wei tries to get up, and almost screams.
No, apparently the fall did not fix his back.
Wei grits his teeth, rolls onto his side, and carefully pushes himself up. He can still stand.
He looks around for the goons, but there's still no sign of them. So, he allows himself a small smile that probably just makes him look completely demented, and then he trudges along the bottom of the ravine until it levels out. The forest isn't particularly dense, and the loamy ground is easy to walk on, so long as he minds the occasional tree root.
It occurs to him that he'd better head back towards the coast. He tries to retrace his steps back to the dirt road.
Wei walks until time loses all meaning and the pain is so bad that he can almost hear it yelling at him. It's too cloudy to see the position of the sun, but his stomach tells him that it might be mid-day.
Eventually he comes to an old shrine by a small pool, and stops for a break. He still has no idea where he is.
The shrine is just a stone table, surrounded a few crumbling pillars and some small animal statues that are too misshapen to be identified. It's impossible to tell who built the thing: there's nothing particularly Earthy or Fire Nation-y about its design, and the table itself is just a slab of rock balanced on four wobbly legs, held together by crumbling plaster. There isn't even a spirit tablet to say who the shrine belongs to. Wei only knows it's a shrine because, well... Why else would someone stick a stone table in the middle of nowhere?
Wei eyes the shrine speculatively, because he is out of ideas and he's fucking had it with everything.
It's a winter solstice soon, right?
He digs in his pockets for an offering, but the goons did a pretty good job of looting him earlier. In the end, he settles on leaving his gloves on the shrine. They're good gloves.
Then he stands around and feels awkward.
He looks up at the trees.
He clears his throat.
"Look, uh," he says, to anyone who might be listening. "I'm not real good at this sort of thing, but I'd like a word with you. I could do with a little help right now."
He then waits.
Nothing happens.
He's not sure what he expected.
He feels like an idiot.
He has enough sanity left to take his gloves back from the shrine.
Wei begins walking again, and takes about eight steps before he notices that his right foot has fallen asleep.
He's been standing bolt upright for who knows how long. He's been moving around. There's absolutely no reason why his right foot should go numb. Unless... It has something to do with his back.
He freezes. Maybe he's been moving around too much. Maybe he should stay put and rest. But if he doesn't get out of this forest by himself, no one's going to rescue his sorry ass, and the goons are probably searching for him right now, and he has no idea what else might also be around.
He carefully lifts his right foot and puts it back down. It's fine. He can do this. He just needs, like, a walking stick or something. He's sure he saw some large branches by the shrine, so he slowly turns around and heads back.
Once he reaches the shrine again, he leans against it, steadying himself, and starts laughing.
He has no idea why he's laughing, because none of this is funny.
Then, before he can understand what he's doing, he's pushing against the shrine, hellbent on demolishing the thing. Apparently he still has just enough strength in him to be angry. The shrine's existence offends him. It's like a little monument to the sheer pointlessness of the universe, a punchline to a bad joke that's been made at his expense. The pain in his back now seems irrelevant. He just wants the shrine gone. He realizes that he's screaming obscenities at it. Good. Vandalizing a shrine while screaming is the most fun he's had in the past forty-eight hours.
The shrine topples into the pool of water.
Wei stands there and takes deep, wheezing breaths, as if he's been punched in the stomach. He staggers back, suddenly finding it hard to stand.
It's so quiet.
It takes Wei a moment to realize that the shrine fell into the pool without making a splash.
Wei spits on the ground, his mouth tasting of blood, and leans over to look into the pool.
The pool is black and mirror-still. Wei's reflection stares back, wide-eyed and grinning.
Then the reflection is split apart by a woman's hand emerging from the inky darkness.
The hand rises. And rises. And grabs Wei by the neck.
And it's not a woman's hand, because last Wei knew, women didn't have six-foot-long arms with seven elbows.
Wei is at a point in his life where he's not even remotely surprised by any of this.
The hand grips his throat, and yanks him into the water.