Episode 01: Welcome to the Future

Chapter 09

Tension had been building up between Wy and Sea for the past few days. Outside of making their reports to the Prince, they hadn't talked about what had happened at all. But every time Sea thought she was going to say something, she turned away or changed the subject. It didn't encourage him in the least to ask his own questions knowing that she was also keeping hers back.

It was during lunch on the third day after the impromptu mission that Sea finally hit a nerve. He had made an offhand comment concerning the helicopter he'd left in the dimensional envelope back in England, wondering when it was going to run out and what the faeries would do once they got their hands on it, when Wy, without a word, stood up and walked out of the mostly empty mess hall. It took a moment for what had just happened to register, but when it did, Sea was practically running after her.

"Wy, stop!" he called after her once he'd left the room, but she did no such thing. Two Guards approaching the mess hall, Evans and McKinney, made room for her to pass, looking to Sea quizzically as he caught up to them. He didn't bother to stop to explain (he barely knew what he'd done, anyways), speeding past even as Wy turned the corner. "Come on, Wy! Was it something I said?"

Turning around the corner, Sea was mightily surprised when a hand grabbed the front of his shirt from out of nowhere and dragged him into an empty room. Wy didn't let go of him for a second as she shoved him back against the door, effectively closing it and pinning him at the same time. He couldn't help but wince a little as the motion jarred his left shoulder, which was still in the process of healing. At least he didn't need the stupid sling anymore.

"Something you said? It was what you did, Peter!" That caused him to freeze immediately. She must've been pretty pissed off to be using his human name. "You promised me you'd limit your temporal powers. You know how dangerous they are!"

"No one got hurt, Wy. In fact, it was thanks to my magic that we got out of there alive," Sea argued, though not vehemently. He didn't want to enrage her any further, but he also wanted her to see his point.

"That's not what I meant. They aren't dangerous for other people, they are dangerous for you." In her frustration, she pushed him into the door with greater force, making it slightly more difficult for Sea to breathe. "You said so yourself, that having that kind of power is corrosive for the soul, not to mention you used that power for a spell you've never even casted before! You could have accidentally allowed another Mrrlyn into our world, but you still took that step."

"I had no choice," Sea defended. Her words cut like icy blades through his heart. She was right, and it had been dangerous. The fourth dimension wasn't something to be messed with, and its denizens even less so. If one had gotten out, it could have easily spelt disaster for the planet.

"Yes, you did!" Wy practically shouted, though her voice wavered with uncertainty. "You could have used some other spell."

"Mrrlyn would have cancelled them all out."

"You could have waited for Gilbert," she continued.

"Wy, I had no idea he was even close by."

"You…" She bowed her head to keep from making eye contact. Her grip slackened, but remained clinging to the fabric of his shirt. "I thought…they were going to take you away…And I couldn't protect you."

Sea stood there, simultaneously shocked and touched at just how worried she had been over him. Even before the Cataclysm, they'd lost contact as close friends. Everyone at that time had been caught up in the whirlwind of shifting allegiances as states became aware of their global power after some fifty years of peace. Not even the Golden Age of Humanity, as it had been called, could stand up to the human need to dominate and emerge on top. And what a better way to end the long peace of the twenty-first century than with an Apocalypse?

Two hundred years later, and having only spent about ten of those years together, their friendship was still as strong as ever. Gently, Sea pulled the Aussie Nation in for a hug. She didn't resist, and when he felt her arms wrap around him, his heart flooded with warmth.

"I'm sorry for putting you in danger, Wy, and putting myself in danger like that. I let my emotions determine my actions, and it led to some pretty stupid decisions." In all honesty, though, she had every right to worry over him. Who really knew how the fourth dimension could have changed him, or how much it had changed him? Or just the use of the spell in general, since temporal magic had a way of drawing out the hunger for power in people. He didn't feel any different, but such things meant little when it came to magic and its effects.

…Could it have reawakened something dark within him?

Pushing away such shadowy thoughts, he couldn't help but smirk a bit with his next words in mind. "It's funny, isn't it? Usually the guy shows up to rescue the girl."

His comment, at the very least, got a weak smile out of her, as they broke apart. "Well, considering how good you are at making food, you deserve to be in the kitchen more than me," Wy stated slyly.

"Hey, come on now, don't be sexist," Sea stated in a mock-haughty voice. "Men are just as great at cooking as women, and shouldn't be denied the equal opportunity to prove it." She laughed, which made him smile, but there was still something between them that needed addressing. "Look, Wy, while we're getting all these confessions out, I have to ask you something, about that night." That got her full attention. "You used magic to summon the water that flooded England's room. But you can't use magic. So, how did you do it?"

She fell silent, avoiding eye contact once more. Something gave him the inkling that whatever she was about to say would just be an excuse not to tell him the truth. He made up his mind not to call her out on it. "I stole a few amulets from a group of Roadgangers a long time ago back home."

"Well, I guess they finally came in handy, huh?" She nodded, and looked back to him. As they locked eyes, they came to the mutual conclusion to forgive and let go of anything that had come between them since that night three days ago.

"We should probably get back," Wy said, her usual, if not somewhat mischievous, smile back in place. "You know, before some unseemly rumours start spreading."

Sea let out a light-hearted chuckle, opening the door and holding it for Wy to exit first. "Can't blame the boys for wanting their daily dose of gossip. I swear, they're worse than old maids most days."

"Speaking of gossip," Wy interrupted. "Did you here that Moore supposedly went out on a date?"

"No way! He's not a robot? Craziness."

Wy gave him a friendly shove as they made their way back to the mess hall. "I hear she's pretty smokin', too."

"Hall must be jealous."

"Of Moore?"

"Nah, of the woman," Sea clarified with a grin. He earned another shove for it, but the sound of Wy's laughter was totally worth it.

After six days, Doctor Deng deemed his shoulder wound sufficiently healed enough to clear him for active duty. Having spent the majority of the week lazing around and picking up odd jobs around the Complex, the announcement came as a relief to Sea. The boredom alone had been killing him, never mind the loneliness. Wy had accepted Commander Sol'affea's offer to take up Sea's shifts as a Guard, mostly for a little extra cash after her shopping spree the week before.

But now that was all over, and it was time to get back to work. Of course, this included going over plans and packing for their mission to North America.

"Alright, here's how it's going to go down," began Chief Commissioner, and retired Admiral, Durant, head of the Nation Recovery Project. The man had always had a bit of an old soul, even in his younger years: straightforward, curt, and honest, he had no use for the pomp and fanfare of politics. It was the reason Sea had approved him for the position in the first place (an informality that had begun after Sea himself had stepped down from the position). But now, at sixty-three, his face finally matched the old timer underneath, right down to his grey-haired moustache and crow's feet wrinkles.

"We'll fly you in over this area here just south-west of Lazlo." He indicated to the spot on the hologram map. "Once you land, you should be near where Milton used to be, though it's called Burleston today. It's a small farm town, fewer than a thousand inhabitants by our guess. Like Lazlo, they're friendly to D-Bees, so your magic won't stick out, Sealand. We've no reason to see them as a threat, so don't make yourselves into one." The two Nations nodded vigorously when Durant turned a stern glare on them.

"From there, transportation into Lazlo will be left to you to figure out. You'll have all the coordinates set up on your smartbands before you go, including the area of Lazlo we believe Canada to be in. It's a fairly mundane recon job, and considering you're both gods know how many times my age, I'm sure you're both familiar with the drill by now."

"Geez, you make us sound old, Durant," Sea joked. Wy stifled a chuckle.

Durant's permanent scowl didn't change one bit. "Old, but not wise, apparently. Don't forget that Wy is in charge for this one, because of your…misadventure."

Sea sighed internally. He just wasn't going to catch a break on the whole New Camelot thing, was he? "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now scram. Enough paperwork has piled up on my desk to last me until the next Apocalypse."

Outside the Chief Commissioner's office, Wy couldn't help but ask, "What's up with him? I mean, he's usually serious, but never this…bitter."

"His grandkids are still sick, though they aren't in critical condition anymore," Sea explained. "They were at their worst the night just before you got back, which is why he wasn't there for the debriefing."

Wy said nothing for a bit as they made their way towards the Equipment Room for the NRP. "I forget sometimes that humans are so frail, especially their kids."

"Yeah…" Sea conceded, memories of Princess Sarah flashing through his mind unbidden. "So are Nations lately, though."

They were all packed up, prepared, and ready to leave for North America when morning came. Still, there was just one thing left for Sea to do.

"Leaving soon for a mission, Sealand?" Doctor Deng asked him as he entered the room. She was recording information from one of several monitors onto her clipboard, and hadn't even bothered to turn around. She didn't have to. He was the only person besides the doctors and nurses who visited this room in particular.

"Yeah. Just thought I'd check in on them," he answered. "How are they doing?"

The doctor scribbled something down. "Same as always, I'm afraid." The stoic Vietnamese woman looked back to the monitor, jotted something else down, and generally did not appear as if she wanted to engage in conversation. After all, what more was there to say?

Standing at the foot of Belgium's hospital bed, Sea couldn't help but sigh. It had been seventy-two years since they'd found Belgium, fifty-four for Spain who lay in the bed next to hers, the only other one in the room. In all that time, not once had either of them awoken from their comas. They'd likely passed out and stayed that way since the beginning of the post-Apocalyptic age, their bodies unable to cope with the dramatic loss of everything from population to culture to economics and even landforms sustained during the Cataclysm, and the years after.

He'd led the group that found Belgium buried under a pile of overgrown rubble. She'd been saved from scavengers both human and animal, but that didn't stop the passage of time. Her body had looked emaciated beyond belief; practically a skeleton, but not even starvation and dehydration could kill a comatose Nation. He wasn't there for it, but Spain's body had been found much the same way, draped over Portugal's grave, that they assumed had been dug by Spain himself. Netherlands's corpse had been discovered beneath the ruins of his house, though the New German Republic was currently holding his remains.

Now they looked healthy, normal. One could almost assume they were just sleeping. A sleep no one had any reason to believe they'd ever awake from. There were no such things as Belgium and Spain anymore, after all. There was nothing for them to come back to, possibly not even friends and loved ones.

Except for himself, Wy, Prussia, and England, the only other Nations that were known to have survived were Germany (who never left the NGR), Austria (who'd been discovered alive and conscious during the Bloody Campaign, and who now resided in the NGR as well), Poland (though neither Sealand nor Wy had seen him in person since before the Cataclysm, forcing them to rely on the word of the NGR), and now Canada. Eleven out of what had once been a couple hundred.

Still, there was hope that more Nations had survived, even if it was only at the most basic level. Few people now had access to anything more technologically advanced than horses and pens, let alone hovercraft and computers. Long-distance travel and communications were not only daunting, but nearly impossible. Considering the added danger of supernaturally evil beings roaming the world, it was little wonder that more Nations hadn't contacted them.

And the NRP could only cover so much of Europe at a time, let alone the world. An impossible task? Probably, but it wasn't enough to make him give up.

Without another word, Sea turned and left the room. Doctor Deng watched him go from the corner of her eye, adjusting her glasses unnecessarily.

He was still in a somber mood by the time he made it up to the Platform after stopping by the infirmary. It clashed with the beautiful day that seemed to be forming: clear blue skies, calm waters, the soft yellow sun floating above the horizon. Not even the gulls were screaming at each other at this hour.

The Platform itself was relatively quiet. No new arrivals, no one leaving, except for their small team, of course. Walking over to the military transport plane, Sea noticed that it was practically all packed up (not that they were bringing much). A few Guards were there helping out Wy and the two pilots, all of them members of the NRP. Since the Nation Recovery Project was mostly a side gig for the military, it didn't require its own permanent force. Members of the NRP were mostly volunteers from the Sealand Guard. There wasn't a face among the two men and three women he didn't recognize. Except, maybe…

"You're…Nicholas, right?" Sea asked the youngest looking member of the group. He mustn't have been more than twenty. And still green by how he perfectly saluted his Nation.

"Private Nicholas Fainomi'ir, sir!" The response earned him a round of chuckles from his comrades.

"Just Sea is fine," the Nation said, cracking his own, albeit modest, smile. He generally fraternized with his fellow Guards regardless of their rank, and they, in turn, ignored his. So, to be reminded that he was technically a superior officer, well…it was a little embarrassing.

"Of course, Sealand, sir," the new guy, a half-elf according to his pointed but not elongated ears, answered, but he did, in fact, drop his salute.

"It's alright, Sea," said the D'norr woman Rahn'dek, clapping a firm hand onto Nicholas's shoulder, making the blond stagger somewhat. "After just a year of having to listen to your swooning over a certain miss, Nick here will be the one giving you orders to shut up." The others laughed at her joke.

Unfortunately, Wy chose that moment to poke her head out. "What was that about Sea swooning?" she asked.

More laughter as Sea actually face-palmed this time, mostly to hide his blush. "Are we ready to leave yet?" he inquired, searching for some way out of this mess.

"Yep, that's the last of it," she said, sliding the last crate into place.

"Great. Let's get going." Sensing another joke at his expense being prepared, he looked to the three Guards still standing around as their pilot, the seasoned veteran and no-nonsense grandmother Manning, and co-pilot, the newbie Nicholas, left to take their places. "Aren't you guys on duty?"

"Yeah, yeah," Copeland, said, brushing off the insincere command to get back to work. "Don't enjoy yourself too much out there, Sea. You might just die of overexposure to fun."

"Thanks, guys," Sea sighed before hopping into the back of the plane with Wy. It didn't take long before the plane was running, in place, and then finally up in the air, climbing higher and higher above the blue waves below.

Operation Canuck was a go.

Note: D'norr (also called Devilmen/women) are a peaceful race of D-Bees that generally, but not always, follow the path of magic and politics. Due to their red coloured skin, horns, and dark blue, nearly black, eyes, they've received the label "devils".