.-.
Beneath
Chapter Two Hundred Twenty-Four – Rupture
Inside the galley stood a seething mass of Polies, less interested at the moment in attacking him than each other, judging by the animated faces, the gesturing from some of them, and what was clearly a chaotic group argument
"He can't be here for this."
"—packing to come out here he was leading an attack on New York!"
"What if something goes wrong? What are we going to do with—"
Loki let the overlapping words roll over him without attention to who was saying what. He'd known this was a bad idea. He'd known it.
The hushed arguing fell off and quickly ceased entirely when they began catching sight of Loki. So much for a simple gathering to share farewells. Instead I'll leave with their anger at my heels.
They were all present, and if Loki hadn't watched most of them file out earlier in the morning he might have suspected they'd never left.
They were arguing over him, that much was obvious. Still, he couldn't fathom why, not if Austin had spoken true. And in an hour or two, depending on how many of them wanted to speak with him and how much they wanted to say, he would be gone. Any further discord, any further discussion at all about him was a waste of their time.
They were all staring at him. He had no right to be angry with them and yet he found himself edging toward it anyway. You asked me to stay the night. You asked me to stay through lunch. Why must you drag this out? Why must you make it difficult? But he couldn't say it. The sense that he was in some way cowed by them only rankled further. He was about to speak up anyway when Jane beat him to it and saved him from an inappropriately hostile remark.
"What's going on?"
Loki was gratified that at least he was not alone in his ignorance.
"Maybe he should give us some more time," Paul said from closer to the back of the crowd, which was gathered around several of the tables in the middle of the galley.
"More time isn't going to change anything," Mari said, standing next to Paul.
"He should be a part of this discussion," Austin said.
"What discussion?" Loki asked, not quite managing to keep the irritation from his voice. The longer this went on, the more it grated on him. This was not how he wanted to leave. This was not how he wanted to remember this place, these people.
"We had an idea," Austin said.
"A proposal," Carlo said, stepping forward from the group.
"This might sound crazy," Zeke said already near the front, while Gary pushed through to join him.
Loki, meanwhile, latched onto the brief respite to steal a glance at Jane, remembering just in time not to muster a smile. When he'd teased Jane for saying the same, he was lying to her. Using her. Perhaps not a fond memory for her. Perhaps it shouldn't be one for him.
"Hear us out, though, okay?" Zeke continued. "We were wondering if you might be willing to stay."
Loki didn't even try to mask his reaction this time as something withered away inside him, deflating with exhaustion that numbed the frustration. What now? That movie with the princess and the swordfights, perhaps. Wright getting something in his head and being unable to let it go. They wanted to show it to him tonight. Have him produce the sword again, hand it over for each of them to wave it around a bit while reciting their favorite portions of the movie while he ensured they didn't kill each other.
He absolutely couldn't do it. There was no real reason he couldn't, other than that the instant Zeke had spoken, he'd simply known with complete certainty he couldn't. He would explain that, get the idea out of their heads, and get these final hours back on track. "I have already stayed much longer than intended," he said. "These delays are not helpful. I can stay as long as needed to meet with those who care to exchange farewells, but I cannot—"
"Not for dinner," Austin said. "Stay. Finish out the winter season with the rest of us."
Loki stared, dumbfounded. "What?" When the initial shock passed, he grit his teeth at the inanity of the question. It wasn't as though he'd had any trouble understanding. "I…." Not a single word or coherent thought presented itself.
"Stay here for the rest of the season? Until the station reopens?" Jane asked. She didn't think she could have possibly misunderstood, but the idea ran straight past bizarre and, yes, right into crazy. And yet, the second the words were out of her mouth and Zeke and Gary were both nodding, they didn't sound crazy at all. They sounded natural and obvious and right. She took in the handful of other nods and turned to Loki to see his reaction. It was exactly what he needed, she was certain. This changed everything, even if Loki didn't seem to realize it yet.
"I don't understand why you would suggest this. It's not possible. It's…it's not…"
"Not reasonable?" Mari chimed in. "Not acceptable? Not in the slightest bit rational?"
Loki swallowed and set his jaw. This was expected, and perfectly understandable. "Something like that."
"Obviously we were still hashing it out," Gary said. "But just to clarify, why is it impossible? That's a strong word. And you said you didn't have anything better to do right now."
"I did not—. I did not say that exactly."
"You said you didn't have plans. And if you've already got a millennium under your belt looking younger than me, I figure you've got at least another one left. A few more months here can't be that much of a dent in your schedule."
"I know it sounds strange at first," Austin said, "but if it's not impossible, then I think it's not at all unreasonable, either. However you came here, however it all started, you wound up just as much a part of station life as the rest of us. And it won't be the same without you. It hasn't been the same without you. Nobody is better at the Three D's than you."
"You want me to—." It was unfathomably preposterous. For an instant he wondered if The Other had stuck fingers inside his head again and he was dreaming, but there was no horror here, no fear, no derision. Only absurdity encroaching on the realm of insanity. "I'm certain you can find another player to join you."
"Nobody with your duration, bro," Ronny said, laughter in his voice.
"Not that we don't all appreciate that duration, but it's not about belching games," Zeke said, a quiet "Belching games?" echoed from somewhere behind him. "It's practical. If we—"
"I disagree," Carlo said. "It is about belching games. The games that we play here and the work that we do here. The life that we live here. We are just 50. We're a team, Lucas. Well…we still can't figure out what to call you. But we know who you are. You're one of us. You came here with us, and you were with us when the station closed, and when the sun set. You should be here when the sun rises again, and when the station reopens," he said with a nod to Jane.
There was nothing practical about this idea, and he didn't see how any of them, even if they'd passed some mutually enjoyable time together, could see it otherwise. That he had pretended to be one of them did not make him one of them. Words continued to fail him, though, and the murmuring was resuming, with Brody speaking out above the others.
"What about Midwinter? You were going to be our Wayne for 'Bohemian Rhapsody.'"
"Yeah," Wright called out from the middle of the group, head sticking out over most of the group. "And you were going to play with us on a few songs from the Midwinter set. What about that, Sax Man? And we can't let you leave without seeing The Princess Bride."
The degree of inanity was unchanged, but still Loki's agitation calmed a bit. At least one of them was still predictable. "I cannot play a sax," Loki said, not for the first time.
"So?" Wright shot back with his typical erudition.
"This is so unbelievable," Mari said in a raised voice short of a shout, over nearer the meal service area now. Another predictable one, and the only rational one, apparently.
"We're in agreement, then," he said as the group parted for her and she came up to the front, between Gary and Zeke, even moving past them and stopping just a couple of feet from him.
"I understand your concern, Mari," came a voice from nearer the back of the group, Nora's though Loki couldn't see her, "but this season has already been so far outside the South Pole normal, and he can do things. His people can do things. You know what they did for Selby."
"I know what he did to Selby."
"I tried to explain," came Selby's voice; Loki could just make out the top of his head, then a partial view of his face when he stretched and shifted around to be able to see Loki. "That was at least as much my fault as his, and I made it possible when I took one of your knives. It was a giant misunderstanding."
Loki tightened his jaw and glanced away. The knife he'd sunk into Selby's chest was Mari's. He hadn't thought of it that way before. Probably not hers personally, probably the station's, but a tool she used every day. Another personal mark against him in her eyes, along with whatever exactly her connection to events in New York was.
"And just, um, for the record," Selby continued, neck on a swivel as he looked around the room, from person to person, "if we're putting this to a vote, I vote for him to stay. If anybody wouldn't want him around here anymore, wouldn't it be me? After what happened with the station, and him getting us all out…I vote for him to stay."
"It's not just about what happened here," came a quieter voice from the kitchen side of the galley. Loki didn't immediately recognize it amid the handful of other comments, heavy sighs, and shifting feet and chairs, but scanning who was in the vicinity, he thought it might have been Paul.
"Guys, come on," Austin said. "If anything else went wrong, do any of you think Loki wouldn't help? He's a member of the team, and frankly an MVP."
"No one is going to be casting votes," Loki said, cutting off three others trying to get in their own arguments for or against him. "You—"
"Because you're a dictator? You only take votes if you've already rigged the polls?"
"That's not fair," Jane said as her frustration grew. They had a solution – the perfect solution. But Mari's obstinate anger was a maddening mirror image of her own from months ago, and Mari didn't seem to be able to let go of it any more than Jane could, back then. She understood it, but it so clearly belonged in the past, not as a present-day obstacle to Loki remaining and the final months of the season here being what they could and should be. Mari hadn't gotten to know Loki like Jane had, even like some of the others here had, of course. There was so much the rest of them didn't know.
"No," Loki said, ignoring Jane and her questionable notions of fairness. "Because I cannot stay here if even one of you opposes it, and that is obviously the case. Each of you was supposed to be here. You worked hard. You competed. I've heard some of your stories. I came here through deceit."
"But you wound up doing real work," Wright said. "It wasn't all fake. That new version of the FLRW metric you wrote was a thing of beauty. I know it's beaker stuff, but wicked band and 300 Club and perfect vampire conditions aside, the beaker stuff is why we're here. What he wrote up should be published," he said to the group.
"We all heard what Jane said, right here in this room," Austin said. "We made a difference" – Loki glanced Jane's way, but her attention was riveted on Austin and she didn't seem to notice – "this little group. Lucas lived and worked with us, became one of us, and it changed how he saw us. Not just us, but our whole planet. What he did before he came here" – Austin glanced Loki's way; Loki set his jaw and did not look away – "it was obviously terrible. There's no getting around that. But I think we all know there's not going to be a repeat. Isn't that the most important thing right now? Isn't that the only thing? From where I stand it's a win-win. Good for him, good for us, good for the entire planet."
"Yep," Zeke said, "from where I stand, too. Everything's been turned on its head since this guy first showed up on Earth. He was out there working with Iron Man to save our home and our hides. Iron Man, one of those 'Avengers' who were fighting against him when he attacked Manhattan. If Iron Man didn't see the need to slap handcuffs on him and drag him off to some fancy jail for magical space aliens, then why can't we just take him for who he is now? If Tony Stark could work with him, why can't we?"
"You may be overestimating my ability to work well with that man," Loki muttered.
"And yet," Zeke said, swinging his arm up in an arc, pointing a finger at the floor as his hand came straight down.
Loki frowned but said no more.
"Stop it," Jane whispered, almost a hiss. She'd grown used to his stubbornness, begun to find it funny at times, even endearing. Right now she wanted to tape his mouth shut. They wanted him to stay and he was shooting himself in the foot, unable to let anyone think for even half a second that he and Tony Stark might have gotten along.
Sue spoke up before Loki could spare more than another glance Jane's way. "I get what you're saying, Zeke. And win-win, I can see that, too. At the same time, I'm not sure any of us signed up to be a humanities teacher."
"No, we didn't," Austin agreed. "But it's not teaching. It's just living."
"Being," Zeke said with a nod. "What my son calls it. Don't think I ever understood it before now."
Loki didn't understand it, but didn't spare it a thought, either. He was thankful for Austin's clarification. He had learned much here, yes, but he disliked being cast as a naughty child, to be lectured into an appreciation of humanity. And that was not what had happened here.
"It's natural for there to be a sense of betrayal," Ken said, voice rising over a few others, the first time any of the three managers had spoken up. "We thought Lucas Cane was one of our grantees, and instead it's Loki, who let all those creatures into New York, and…. We all saw the pictures, at least. Like something out of a nightmare. But I keep going back to the hours we spent out there skiing, and I don't know how to reconcile those things. All I can see in that is a fellow Polie. One who…Lucas…if I can still call you that?"
Loki minutely inclined his head when Ken looked his way.
"Like I said, I don't know how to reconcile it with that attack on Earth. But I'm glad you were here. I don't think I would have kept up the skiing if you weren't, after everybody else quit. You pushed me, kept me going. And" – he paused, gave a shrug – "I appreciate it. You should know that. I hope you'll stay, and click on those skis again."
He had barely interacted with Ken outside of their flat skiing, and barely interacted with him during the skiing, too, given the nature of the activity. A minute or two of pointless talk before setting off, five or six minutes of perhaps slightly less pointless talk afterward as they removed outer layers and lingered. He hadn't even liked this version of skiing, every bit of slow forward progress an exertion. Yet he kept going. It wasn't the challenge for him that it was for Ken, but his muscles felt the honest effort afterward, and those few minutes with Ken, not particularly personal, nothing he dwelled on later…perhaps he'd enjoyed them more than he'd ever realized in the moment. After all, he did keep going.
"I appreciated it, too," he started to say. But he'd hesitated too long and the chance was lost.
"Your name isn't Lucas and you aren't one of us. You aren't even human. You're a murderer, and you have no right to live here with us and go by this fake name and pretend you aren't. And I'm not the only one who thinks so. I'm just the only one who's not afraid to stand right in front of you and say it to your face."
"It was war," Gary said quietly. "I'm not sure we want to call people who fight in a war 'murderers.'"
"And why aren't you afraid to say it to his face, Mari?"
"Carlo," Gary said, putting a hand out over Carlo's forearm.
"It's a fair question," Carlo said to Gary before addressing Mari again. "I don't dismiss your feelings, but you stood in front of him and called him an inhuman killer and you said you weren't afraid to do that. Why aren't you afraid? It seems to me this is because you know he won't hurt you."
As the focus shifted from him, without taking a step Loki felt himself slipping away from this catastrophe, observing the confrontation more as a spectator than a participant. With all that he was he wished he'd never returned to the galley. It was good to hear some of them speak fondly of past times, say they wished he could stay, but they could have done that in individual farewells, as originally planned. What was playing out before him took something good and twisted it like a knife to the gut. Carlo he could not fathom, and ducked away from it before he could hit the wall he knew he would if he tried. Mari, he understood. And Carlo was wrong. She was afraid. Girding up the fidgeting hands and quavering voice, though, were the squared shoulders and steel spine of determination that pushed her past the fear.
"You're wrong," Mari said; Loki could almost imagine he was inadvertently slipping his own thoughts into her mind. "You want to know why? It's because when my friends were running for their lives, when they were dying, I couldn't do anything about it. But now? Now at least I can say something. And I can tell him to go to hell. So you know what, Loki?"
Loki started, neck jerking back a little at the abruptness with which he was again the center of attention.
"You led an attack on my city. You killed people I knew. And you can go to hell."
Mari was looking him straight in the eye. The quavering voice had steadied and her hands formed fists at her side. Loki had never felt more impotent while not actually lacking in strength. This was the truth. The cold, bitter truth that he could not escape, not even at this isolated outpost, among those he'd lived with in peace all these months. Calling himself "Lucas" and wearing used laborer's clothing did not and could not make it any less true. They all recognize it, he thought, taking in the faces of those within view. They were silent. Uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with the truth they, too, wished to pretend away, perhaps as a means of reassurance amidst such chaotic and distressing times.
"Even if nobody else says it, I don't care. Even if your silence makes me the bad guy, I don't care. Because I know I'm not. He is," she said, thrusting her arm out at him. "He is literally the bad guy."
The tip of her finger was so close that with an additional stretch she could have touched him. That was difficult not to react to. An ingrained instinct to grab, to twist, to squeeze. His hand twitched at his side, but nothing more. He would not react. Some of them were looking at Mari, some at the floor, some at him, waiting for his response. But he would not in any way defend himself. He could not.
Mari's accusing finger slowly dropped back to her side.
"You don't have the whole picture."
It could have been a voice in the back of his head. Sometimes it was the voice in the back of his head. This time, though, the voice – Jane's voice – came from his immediate left. Quiet, but easily heard in the room Mari had silenced.
"Jane, don't. Don't get—" Don't get involved, he'd meant to say. You still have to live with them. She didn't give him the chance.
"I know what it looked like. I know it seemed like he was behind it all. That's what I thought, too. But it's not true."
"Jane. Don't," Loki said, tone sharpened, eyes boring holes into hers. He willed her to return his gaze, but hers fell on everyone except him. Deliberately ignoring him. He had seen her like this before. Impassioned. Driven by her convictions. This was dangerous.
"Coming to Earth wasn't his idea. Someone else sent him—"
"Jane!" This time he turned and stepped directly in front of her, his back to the crowd. She could not ignore him now.
"Is that true?" Ken asked; Loki recognized the voice.
Loki forced himself to wait long enough for two deep breaths before turning around again. He did not like the determined set of Jane's jaw, even less so the way she still avoided meeting his eyes. "I led the attack. I will not make any excuses for that, or attempt to minimize what occurred on your world."
"You led the attack?" Jane echoed from behind, maneuvering around him and facing the others though her words were addressed to him. "Really. The Chitauri were obeying your orders? Crashing through buildings and attacking civilians because you told them to? You were in charge? What would have happened if you had said no to that—"
Loki whirled around. "Outside. Now," he added when Jane did no more than finally, clearly reluctantly, lift her gaze toward him.
"You can't—"
"Cease this right now." He leaned down, put his face an inch from hers, leaving nothing else in her field of vision. "And come outside with me."
Jane swallowed. "Okay," she muttered.
Loki flared his eyes at her when she still remained rooted where she was.
"All right, all right." She turned on her heel and headed back the way they'd entered, into the side passageway past the tray drop-off and out into the main corridor.
"What in the name of the Nine Realms do you think you were doing in there?" he shouted as soon as they reached the outer corridor.
Jane jumped at the unrestrained volume of Loki's voice. She took a few more steps forward, past Loki and toward their berthing wing.
"Don't walk away from me, Jane."
"I'm not walking away from you. I just thought maybe you wouldn't want everyone to hear you screaming."
Loki turned around and faced the open door to the galley. "I'm going to slaughter every last one of you if you don't come out here this instant!"
Jane's eyes bugged out, but then Loki turned back around fixing her with the same look as before only with a serving of scorn alongside the anger and she realized he was just making a point. "Sound blanket. Right. Look, they need to understand what really happened. What Mari said in there, it's just not true. She's painting this picture of you that's—"
"How was it untrue in any way that mattered?"
"Are you kidding me? You don't think it mattered that you weren't calling the shots?"
"Ohhh, Dr. Foster, you were about to go far beyond who was calling the shots. You wish to make me seem weak. To make me more acceptable to them because I was weak. That is beyond intolerable."
"I'm not trying to make—"
"You are too intelligent, and too honest, to complete that statement."
"I—. It's not the way you're making it sound, like I was trying to…to humiliate you or—"
"Then I would hate to see what you're capable of when you are trying to humiliate me."
"It isn't a humiliation to point out that you weren't in control!"
"I was in control! I was…I was in control of myself, at least."
"But you weren't in control of who was attacked, or where, or how. The indiscriminate attacks on offices and apartments? That wasn't—"
"It doesn't matter! Don't you see that, Jane? It's not the point! Whatever I told you about all that, I told you in confidence! And you were about to announce it before the entire South Pole Station! Those are private details, not for public consumption, to be bandied about by everyone here as though they have any idea what I—. To share with their friends and families, their news media? To weigh me, my motivations, my worth? Whether I should be not feared but pitied?" He paused to catch his breath. To lower his voice. "You had no right."
The silence held, the stillness along with it, the visible rise and fall of Loki's chest the only physical movement at all. Jane's thoughts, though, hurtled toward a destination looming ever larger, one she could no longer avert her eyes from. She had known Loki wouldn't want her to say what she had. That he would rather stand there passively accepting being painted as a murderer – a monster – than be seen instead as a pawn in a more powerful actor's plan. She didn't fully understand it, this particular form of ego he held onto, but she'd known for some time that it was there. He wouldn't say it himself, so she'd said it for him. She'd known he wouldn't like it, and she'd pushed that aside and kept going. She hadn't expected this much anger. She hadn't expected hurt.
"You staying the winter is a good idea," she said, because maybe, maybe, she could convince him to see it her way. "I don't want you to go off by yourself. I don't want to have gone through all these things with you and then just watch you walk away, even if I know I'll see you again. It's too abrupt. I want you to stay. And I don't want Mari or any of the rest of them thinking those things about you."
"Those things are true. What difference does it make to her, or to her friends who died, how I came to be there, or whether I was in charge of it or not, or what would have happened if I'd refused? I didn't refuse. And that isn't the point. It wasn't up to you to tell them anything else." He paused to swallow. "I thought you understood that."
The last of the denial Jane was clinging onto fell away; her hand went up over closed eyes. She did understand that. Snippets of conversations from the last few weeks rushed back in an incoherent jumble. Choosing her words carefully. Holding back on something she wanted to say but knew she shouldn't. Letting some minor thing slip, taking care to say no more, feeling a twinge of guilt for what little had made it out.
Not this time. She'd been shocked by Zeke's suggestion, seemingly shared by the group. And just as she'd begun to get past the shock and realize what a perfect solution it was, Mari had reminded them all of an image of Loki Jane had once shared. An image that now seemed distorted and simply wrong. "You're a murderer who refuses to take any responsibility for his actions," she'd told him. "We send our mass murderers to maximum security prisons, or we execute them," she'd confidently – maybe a little self-righteously – told Thor back in Tromso. Loki wasn't innocent, but he wasn't what she'd so unquestioningly believed then and what Mari believed now. If they could just understand that, if she could make them understand it….
She had tried before. To explain herself, to explain him, with what little she felt she could say without betraying his confidence. Betraying his trust. And she had just hurled all of that out the window in a hasty yet undeniably conscious decision to charge ahead with a desperate grab at an idea that was being snatched away. Because she wanted him to stay. It occurred to her then that she didn't even know if that was what Loki wanted. She swallowed over a tightening throat. Great. So I'm selfish on top of being a lousy friend.
"I'm sorry. I just couldn't stop and I went too far," she said, rushing the words before she could become unable to get them out. She swallowed again. "It was selfish. And it was just wrong. I was wrong. I'm sorry."
Loki looked away, nodding absently. An unpleasant sense of unease was growing atop the anger, along with the sense that he'd really rather be sitting than standing.
"What do you want me to do? Or say? I'll go in there and tell them whatever you want me to. I won't lie, but—"
"You'll do whatever I want, but then you immediately place conditions on it? Don't say you'll do whatever I want."
"Loki…. Okay. Just tell me what you want to do next."
"What makes you think I have any idea? I wasn't expecting any of this." He paused, shook his head, revised his estimate of when exactly he'd begun to err. "I should never have come back here at all."
"Don't say that. I'm sure—."
"What?" Loki snapped, but even before the word was fully out he realized Jane's eyes had focused over his shoulder and he knew why she had stopped mid-sentence. Can it possibly get any worse? He took a second or two to compose himself, wondering in the meantime who might have followed them out here and seen him shouting at Jane – for even without hearing a word, the shouting would have been obvious from his movements and overall body language.
Olivia, Ken, Gary, Austin. That he felt a bit of guilt didn't surprise him. That he felt a bit of shame did. His anger was justified, but he hadn't meant for anyone else to be privy to it. To see him treating a friend, a colleague in South Pole terms, this way.
Olivia began to say something; Loki yanked down the sound blanket. "My apologies. We can hear you now."
"That's a thing you can do, huh?" Gary asked.
Loki started to answer but in the end simply nodded.
"Handy."
"At times."
"Everything okay here, then?" Olivia asked.
"Yes," Loki said, then glanced to Jane, who was nodding; it wasn't him Olivia was really asking. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted." He glanced Jane's way again and briefly met her eyes. He wasn't sure he meant the apology, but making it was instinctive in the face of Olivia's stern penetrating gaze.
"People argue," Olivia said. "I guess that's between you and Jane, as long as it doesn't affect the work. Listen, the discussion in there really got hijacked. We do have our reasons for considering asking you to stick it out for the rest of the winter, and I assure you that for me it's not about belching games or any other games. Gary?"
"Yeah. The thing is, we had a bunch of serious earthquakes here, where nobody expected that to ever happen. Nothing here is built to code for earthquake zones. We made emergency repairs to the columns that are holding us up right now, in the dead of a polar winter. Even with Iron Man and magical space aliens doing the hefty lifting, literally, we can't say for sure that the repairs would pass safety inspections. And even though we've only had minor aftershocks since the last big one, we also can't say for sure that we won't have more earthquakes. If anything happens and we need to shore up the repairs, or make new ones, I'd really like to have you here to help out. There's just not that much I can do about it on my own, or even all the rest of us together. Not in winter. We need Polie Number Fifty."
"Speaking of Polie Number Fifty," Olivia said. "I've had to keep a lot of things that have happened here recently out of my reports, for everyone's safety. With the strict cooperation of every one of us, it's doable. But I can't figure out any way I can convince all the organizations and companies involved that fifty winterovers left. I can add a ghost passenger on our reports, maybe even pull some James Bond stunt and make sure the pilots on one of the flights out are distracted, think they're carrying ten when they're carrying nine. But McMurdo keeps its own records. So does the USAP office in Christchurch, probably the New Zealand Air Force, too. They're going to know forty-nine reached McMurdo and Christchurch, no matter how many I say left here. They're going to look at their documentation, and they're going to ask where Lucas Cane is. And they're not going to shrug and walk away when we say we can't explain it. That's a definite, not a maybe, and I don't see how that doesn't lead to them figuring out that Lucas Cane doesn't exist and then, eventually, that it was you. Having fifty winterovers fly out of here in October and November would benefit us all. Is there any chance that you'd be willing to stay?"
"But not just to be a body on a plane," Austin said. "We did get off track before, but Carlo's right, too. You were one of us. Just a handful of people throughout all of history know what it's like to spend a winter down here, cut off, stuck with each other even when we piss each other off. It might not be smooth sailing all the time, but I think we can make this work. All of us, together."
"I appreciate the position you've been put in, Olivia, and Ken. Gary, Austin…thank you. But I don't see how I could possibly stay. How that is in the slightest realistic."
"But what's so unrealistic about it, seriously?" Austin asked. "You've still got your room, all your stuff here, you said so yourself. You don't have anywhere else you have to be right now. And I know it looked to me like you were really working with Jane on her research project. Selby and Wright were around you more and they confirmed it. You could keep right on working. We all know Jane's doing groundbreaking work, and based on those FLRW equations, frankly so have you."
An exasperated protest died on his lips with no more than a sharp exhale. He had never actually been Jane's assistant; they knew that now, of course. But he had helped her set up and carry out her research, and they had indeed worked well together, at least when they hadn't been too busy bickering, and her work was without question groundbreaking, even for Asgard. His, which she had unwittingly helped him on, was indeed also groundbreaking, but had caused the very destruction they credited him with helping save them from; it would have to forever remain secret.
But could he work with her now? He didn't even want to look at her. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her, leaning against the pale yellow corridor wall and watching in silence.
He shook his head at himself. What did it matter if he could work with her or not? In fact he couldn't, not with her, not with anyone here. Not when Mari and untold others too fearful of him to speak up called him killer. He would not subject any of them to that. "You may welcome my continued presence. But you don't speak for everyone. None of these people deserves to have to make their isolated home with someone they see as a murderer."
Olivia frowned, then exchanged a glance with Ken. "Okay. Give me a minute."
"Olivia," Loki said sharply, as she was already turning away. She turned back around and stared hard at him; he fought another instinct to apologize. He'd never spoken to her in that tone of voice before.
"Yes?"
"I'll not have her intimidated into reversing her position."
Olivia gave a wan smile. "Did you get the impression that Mari's going to be intimidated into anything?"
Loki pictured the woman with the short blond hair and clenched fists, clearly fearful yet confronting him with unabashed resolve. "I suppose not," he said.
"Like I said, then, give me a minute."
Loki nodded.
At her signal Austin and Ken followed, while Gary stayed behind, along with Jane, who remained unmoving, leaning against the wall.
The silence lingered and was just beginning to grow uncomfortable when Gary broke it.
"There's a lot we don't know about you, isn't there? Including about what you were doing on our planet, and why."
"There's a lot everyone doesn't know about everyone else."
"That's fair. I was hoping it might be okay for me to ask you a few questions. Of course, I understand there might be things you don't want to talk about, or can't talk about."
"You may ask," Loki said after only a brief hesitation. He knew Gary was wise enough to recognize the corollary: answers were not promised.
"Gullveig, that guy from Vanaheim, his cronies already left Earth. And Jane told us the war in space is over. Just how close did we come to getting pulled into an intergalactic war?"
Loki's response took longer than it should have; he had incorrectly anticipated the subject of Gary's questions. "No war was fought in space. War was fought in Asgardian fields and villages, and in the city."
"I'm sorry. It's just an expression. I didn't mean to offend, or to make light about the toll of war."
"No offense taken. Merely a clarification offered. As for Midgard…Earth, my apologies…I don't know. It's possible you could have come under greater scrutiny by the other realms. But you can trust that Asgard did and would have continued to do all that it could to ensure that wouldn't happen." He hesitated, granted a moment's reflection as Gary nodded and seemingly considered his next question. It's true, isn't it? Should they not know it? "As would I," he added.
"It sounded like things were pretty rough. What did it all come down to? Did you personally turn the tide of the battle?" he asked with a huffing half-laugh.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, not much, just Jane's head swinging his way. Fixing him with a pointed stare when he turned to look at her. He didn't need to hear the words; he knew what she was saying. Tell him the truth. In this case, though, he didn't mind, once he took a few seconds to consider. "As a matter of fact, I did."
Gary's smile grew with his laughter. "Are you pulling my leg?"
Loki narrowed his eyes and deliberately glance downward. "Not to my knowledge."
"You should have been more yourself all along," Gary said once he managed to stop laughing. "It means making up a story."
"I know. I've heard it before."
Gary nodded. "So, you headed back to the motherland, and in just a handful of days the enemy was weighing anchor and putting to sea? Or space?"
"A day and a half," Loki said, a smile playing about his own lips now as a little of the wariness finally began to fade. He was proud of that particular accomplishment, regardless of its high cost. And he'd never been especially known for modesty; he was simply more subtle than a certain other he didn't care to think of at the moment.
"You're serious."
"I am. Your leg is undisturbed."
"Then I'm confused," Gary said, his demeanor so swiftly shifting from jovial to serious that Loki's guard went up again just as swiftly.
"How so?" he asked, cautiously, studying Gary for insight, for some means of getting ahead of him instead of trailing behind.
"How did it go so wrong for your side in New York?"
Ah. There it is. He'd expected from the start to be asked about this. Then he realized what he was really being asked. If they'd been playing for points, Loki would have had to concede that Gary had just won them all. Bonus points, too, since in reviewing the last couple of minutes, he wasn't entirely certain whether Gary had been playing any games. Composing a response required thought, and for better or for worse, Gary seemed willing to wait as long as it took. "No warrior wins every battle he enters."
"How much of the strategy was up to you, then? Where did you fall in the chain of command?"
Loki's jaw tightened. How could you? He was acutely aware of Jane's presence, no less so for her conspicuous silence, but he refused to look her way. Gary, meanwhile, was again patiently waiting for an answer. He didn't have to provide one; Gary had essentially already told him that. "It's complicated," he finally said.
"But you weren't at the very top, were you?"
Dissembling or evading would be pure stubborn foolishness, thanks to Jane's interference. Still, he couldn't bring himself to confirm it, so he stood in silence, unnaturally conscious of his own breathing.
"You acted like you were. I read about what you said in Germany. You wanted people to bow down to you? I'd think that's the guy in charge. I can't tell you how surreal it is to say that to you, by the way. How hard it is to believe you're that same man. Were you ever fighting the urge to tell us to kneel, here?" Gary asked with a crooked smile.
He started to respond, but the last question brought a rush of memories from earlier days here that left him feeling as uncomfortable as Gary now looked.
"Okay," Gary said, though Loki had said nothing. His silence, he supposed, was answer enough. "I'm guessing that particular yearning has faded, though?"
This time the words came easily. "What happened in Germany, and elsewhere…it was a different time. And a very specific and unusual set of circumstances. Speaking of it now here with you is surreal for me, too." He pictured the elder who'd stood up to him, literally, outside of that museum. "Although 'embarrassing' might be a more accurate term at this particular moment." "There are no men like me," he'd said to that elder. He'd meant it, without dipping more than a metaphorical toe into all the ways in which it was true. Still, that barest affirmation of the ice in his veins had hardened him enough to be ready to strike that man down as an example to the others of the rewards defiance would earn. Maybe, though, it was all part of some grand delusion he'd been suffering. Maybe in reality only warm red blood coursed through his veins, the ice banished in Odin's tapestry of magical transformation. Separated from all magic, he'd bled blue here. Now he had Odin's oath that would never happen again. He would only bleed red, if that was what he wanted. If that was what he chose. He glanced Jane's way, found her looking back through lowered lids. When he met Gary's eyes again, it was with the best smile – the best sincere smile – he could manage. "I would rather see you across the poker table than see you kneel."
"That's a relief. My knees aren't what they used to be. But here's the thing I keep coming back to. Why don't you want anyone to know you weren't in command? Wouldn't it make things easier for you if everybody knew you weren't giving the orders?"
"Is a building any less destroyed if I didn't give the order to destroy it?"
"No. But you're less directly responsible for its destruction, especially if there were any threats involved. Most people would leap at the chance to bear a little less responsibility for something like that."
"I am not most people," Loki said stiffly amid a fresh surge of anger. Jane… "What would have happened if you'd said no?"
"You obviously know a thing or two about strategies and tactics. And even if you're more used to fighting with swords, you stepped into the middle of a war I assume you couldn't have known that much about, since you were stuck here with us and all, and you helped them win it in about the same amount of time it took for you to categorically lose the one you yourself kicked off here on Earth. Somebody else established that order of battle, and led you to believe you were in command. Is that what happened?"
Loki's gaze slid over to Jane, clearly following every word.
"Don't blame Jane."
His eyes snapped back to Gary and he consciously wiped the anger from his face.
"I don't need to hear it from her that you weren't giving the orders here, not with that massive gap between what you did there and here in a couple days, you can take that to the bank. And you forget, I may not have known what your real name was or even what species you really were – are you a different species?"
Loki only needed enough time for one heavy blink. "I am." There was a perverse pleasure in saying it aloud, in knowing what it meant, in knowing that Gary did not.
"But I did get to know a little of who you are as a person. I can see how this might've gone down. I'm thinking somebody above you cut you out of the loop. Hung you out to dry and left you without a lot of alternatives. Something like that?"
"Something like that," Loki echoed. Brokk had done that, at least. Stepped over him. Hung him out and dangled him over the ledge.
"And that makes it more palatable to you to let people think everything was going according to plan and you were in command, even if it would make it more palatable for everyone else to know that you weren't. Were you on the same page at all as the guy you answered to? On tactics? Goals?"
Loki looked aside for a moment – not toward Jane – and rubbed a hand over his mouth. Gary was boiling those months and especially final days down in a way he never quite had before. A way he wished he had much, much earlier. He'd always known his ultimate goals and Thanos's diverged, and he hadn't been fool enough to trust that tyrant. It hadn't concerned him, though, because he'd thought their more immediate goals were the same, and he hadn't bothered to consider much beyond that. "Less so than I believed at the time," he finally admitted, then felt compelled to continue. Gary deserved it. Perhaps they all did. "I never desired the wanton destruction that took place. Such brutality hardens opposition. Closes doors. But I refuse to misrepresent myself. To try to shape what others think of me by lessening my role. To the extent that I…disagreed with the tactics used in New York…it wasn't out of compassion for your people."
"Okay," Gary said, his demeanor unchanged, his tone much calmer than Loki had expected in response to words he knew sounded callous. "You were thinking of a sustainable victory down the line, and the other guy just wanted to knock down as many buildings as possible. And I know that's not where you stand now, when it comes to compassion."
"Do you?" Loki cut in, aiming for something more acerbic and aloof, on instinct, than what came out. "Seek understanding and compassion for others and you may find it for yourself," his mother had told him. He hadn't thought about those words for some time now, but at the time he'd vacillated between dismissing them and mocking them.
"I could list at least half a dozen examples, but don't make me go and get all mushy here. What were you really fighting for? People have reasons when they go to war. Sometimes good ones, sometimes lousy ones, but they always have reasons. There were some jokes going around. Jokes but not jokes, you know what I mean? Calling you Loki the Conqueror. And I think we all keep mixing it up, calling you Lucas or Loki, but I've never heard anybody say 'Lucas the Conqueror.' Every single person here, including Mari, knows you well enough to know that's not who you are. It sounds ridiculous. Loki the Conqueror…it's like this mythic identity that's funny because it's so hard to believe it's the same person as you. Some of us were thinking maybe it had something to do with your father, from that time you said being President wouldn't be enough for him, and some things a few of the others overheard when everybody was out in the heavy shop. Maybe you thought getting a whole planet would do it, and you figured we could use someone to unite all our squabbling countries."
Loki listened with morbid fascination. He was accustomed to side glances, to whispers shared when it was thought he couldn't see. He was not accustomed to being directly told what was said about him when he wasn't present. And while not even Jane knew everything that led up to his arrival on Midgard, thankfully, this level of candidness from Gary – and the reminder of that particular poker game night when he had surprised himself with his own honesty – was disarming in its own way. "I was in some ways not myself. But whatever I wanted from my father I had already given up on obtaining. I wasn't fighting because of him." Even as he said it, and meant it, he knew it might not be entirely true. But if some small hidden part of him was still childishly mewling for something from Odin, he had no desire to go digging around for it and dragging it into the light. What was I fighting for? he asked himself. He hadn't been thinking clearly then; he knew that now. But he hadn't been so deluded as to think Odin would be pleased by him installing himself as King of Midgard. Bring peace to Midgard? What a colossal jest. Still he'd believed it, for a time. Claim a throne? Make one where none had been? Establish entirely new governance, prove I could do it? To Odin? To all of Asgard? To myself? Even to Thanos? Drive Thor mad with rage, lean back on my throne and cackle with glee at his inability to do anything about it? Force Odin and Thor and everyone else on Asgard to recognize that I was just as worthy as the mighty Thor, even more so. Respect. Admiration. Power. He'd wanted it all. Perhaps all of it, in the end, pointed to one thing. "It was mostly pride, I think."
"Huh. Losing must've been a gut-punch, even if you weren't fighting on your terms."
"I don't imagine it ever feels pleasant," he said, an automatic inveigling response that obfuscated the truth. Losing hadn't been a gut-punch. Other moments along the way, perhaps. Setbacks, frustrations, intermediate losses. The conclusive loss that left him lying in a pile of rubble that had once been Tony Stark's floor? By comparison to the expected "gut-punch," he realized it had been something closer to a perverse form of relief. And something else he didn't care to dig too deeply into.
Gary, meanwhile, had spoken words of agreement that Loki hadn't fully caught.
"On the other hand, losing ultimately brought me here, in a roundabout way. And I'm appreciative of that, although I understand that not everyone here shares the sentiment. What I don't understand, though, is what the point of all these questions is."
Gary's eyebrows went up in what was surely an exaggerated fashion. "Was there supposed to be a point? Olivia said 'give me a minute,' so I was giving her a minute. Or five, or ten. You know, whatever she needs. She's the boss."
"A-ha. You were merely stalling for whatever is going on behind that door? Because when you began by saying you'd like to ask some questions, it did indeed sound to me as though there was a point. If there's some ultimate question you're trying to work toward, some explanation you'd like, you may ask it without all this preamble. Some things are too deeply personal for discussion, but otherwise, for the difficult position my presence here has put you all in, you deserve answers."
Gary rocked his head from side for a moment, eyes roaming the empty corridor. "I guess maybe there's a point. But not some 'ultimate question.' I'm just trying to understand better. Mari's concerned, a few others, too. And I start asking myself if I'm in the wrong because although I respect their concerns, I don't share them. You want to know where I'm coming from?"
"Very much so," Loki said with a deep nod, surprised both at the offer and at his own eagerness for Gary's explanation. He'd thought he would be the only one doing any explaining.
"My father served in the Navy, and he was also a history buff, read everything he could get his hands on. I grew up hearing him talk about those treaties the US and Japan signed just a decade or two after the war…World War II?"
"I've heard of it."
"The Treaty of San Francisco, the Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security. And this is a country that started a war against us, launched a surprise attack on our naval base at Pearl Harbor that killed almost twenty-five hundred people, some of them still sleeping in their beds. A few years later we became the first country to use nuclear weapons against an enemy. God help us all, hopefully the last. We dropped them on two cities in Japan. I guess there were people sleeping in their beds there, too. Plenty of reasons to hold grudges. But Japan renounced war, later there were those treaties – the US needed allies in the Pacific – and now ties are close. Friendly. Politically, economically, even personally. He loved those stories about American and Japanese vets meeting up, sometimes even becoming friends. Thought it was great. He was kind of an idealist about humanity, took it all as a sign of what we could be. That enemies could become friends and allies, acknowledge the past but move on and work together to build a better future. It's not like nobody was still angry, and it's not like there wasn't cause to be angry, but somehow, we got past it. Same with Germany and the other Axis powers.
"I don't mean to be yapping away here about all this history you didn't grow up with. And I don't mean to say it always goes that way. Or that it happens overnight – it hasn't even been a year since you were attacking New York. That's not a lot of time for wounds to heal. But it's enough for me that you've renounced war against us. Well, and that I believe you. Better to be friends than stay enemies. Better yet to be allies."
"Allies? You…see me as such?"
"Uh…yeah? Not in the international or intergalactic law sense, I don't think anybody's signed any formal documents. But you said you'd try to keep that intergalactic war away from us, and, since that war is over, I guess you did just that. You got us out of this building when it was in danger of collapse, and you helped make sure it wouldn't collapse. Meets the casual definition at least, don't you think?"
Loki remained silent, speechless.
"Not to mention, you play a mean poker game, and Ronny's right, nobody can hold a candle to that duration."
"I will never live down my participation in that game. I hope it will stay here. Among friends," he added quietly. Even that much was difficult to accept, though he didn't at all question whether Gary meant it.
"Among allies. It goes both ways, right? We'll have your back. Well…I guess everybody knows about the Three D's now, and not everybody's ready for an alliance."
"No."
"If we can get an alliance finalized…are you willing to stay? You never really said. Wright can be kind of pushy, but we all know we can't make you stay, obviously."
Loki shook his head, though he couldn't help the flutter of a smile over at least someone else noticing that about Wright. "It's a dead proposition. Mari will never approve of it, probably others, too. I wouldn't even consider it in such circumstances."
"But what if she does?"
Loki, and Gary beside him, turned to face Jane, who had finally spoken up though she remained where she had been lingering, some ten feet away.
"I'm sorry I went barreling right over you before and didn't ask what you want. I'm asking now. If everybody's okay with it, do you want to stay and finish out the winter season here?"
Loki didn't know how he was supposed to answer that. There was no use in pondering things that weren't possible. Down that path lay only disappointment and pain. If he did stay, it would not be the same as before. Time, he had learned, could never really be turned back. Yet Carlo and Austin had spoken of wanting him to stay, Ken too, and not just for utilitarian reasons. Gary had spoken of friendship, had even referred to him as an ally – a strong word that pulled at something deep inside him. He still couldn't quite fathom that Gary had used it.
What did any of that matter, though, if he was going to be thought a murderer here? He had just truly shed that ignominious moniker on Asgard – an edict removing it before the law, eighteen years after Baldur's death, could not change what was still believed to be fact or what colorful labels might still be applied to him in silent thought. Even if Olivia somehow did manage to convince Mari and her less-courageous cohort not to oppose his presence, he wasn't eager to shoulder that mantle again, at the South Pole this time.
Before he could settle on an answer, the galley door opened. It was Olivia, alone this time.
"Mari wants to talk to you. Will you meet with her?"
"Yes," he said as soon as he got over the shock. "Of course."
Olivia immediately turned to reenter the galley, then paused and let the door close. "Not every situation calls for talking. Sometimes it mostly calls for listening."
Loki gave a slow nod, though his thoughts were churning and had little capacity for examining what she was telling him.
She continued back inside, the door again closing behind her.
"Loki?"
He faced Jane again, distracted this time. He'd exchanged a few words here and there with Mari, but he'd never spent any significant amount of time with her, not alone.
"I know you don't want to push her or anyone into agreeing to you staying, but obviously she's open to discussion. That doesn't surprise me. She's got a lot of anger about what happened in New York, but she's not unreasonable. You have a voice in this, too, though. If you haven't decided yet, you should before you meet with her. Do you want to stay?"
The door opened. Mari. Paul was right behind her.
Down that path lay disappointment and pain. When something was over, it was over, and his time here living among these mortals was over.
Then there was Jane, creeping a few steps closer but still more distant from him than she had seemed in weeks, even months. He stared at her and did not know what he saw, what he felt. Whether he would want to stay here with her.
He tore his eyes away from Jane. The Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station wasn't just about Jane. Had he not wished he'd taken greater advantage of opportunities here? Taken the time to appreciate the uniqueness of this place and its tiny community? This wasn't about Jane. It was about him.
And if the rest of the winter was to be denied him, as he expected, could he not still acknowledge what he wanted? Why should he deny himself that truth? Why should he run in fear toward the safer, easier path? He was no stranger to gambling, or to risk. Or to disappointment.
He closed his eyes for just a second or two, as footsteps shuffled through the door. When he opened them again, he focused on Gary and kept his expression carefully neutral. "Yes," he said.
/
Couple of quick notes b/c this is a long one (and it's late and I've got to get to bed!): (1) I apologize for all the PMs I haven't responded to yet! I promise I will get back to you. (2) I have not managed to carve out the time yet, but not long after releasing Ch. 223 I found a pre-write of a portion of a scene in there that I liked better, and for the first time I do plan to go back and make some changes to a published chapter to work that in. I'd really hoped to do that before releasing this one, but this one (and the next one) were just utter bears. Writing the next chapter took *forever* and the final edit on *this* chapter also took multiple weeks which is just nuts, but there are reasons for it (lots of continuity/callback stuff to pay careful attention to, and a restructuring of a couple of events that required me to add some material into this chapter that I'd expected to come in another one, and then just being very very careful to get some difficult moments right - or to try to, you can judge). As of today, August 17, 2022, that change hasn't been made. I'll make a note of it here presumably on the next chapter to let you know it's been changed. (3) Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Previews for Ch. 225: This chapter was pulling teeth! And probably needs a lot of editing work. Oh but previews about what's up with Loki and crew? Well, Loki's kinda thrown for a loop, and he's got a difficult conversation ahead of him (ultimately, maybe more than one).
Excerpt:
"Okay, fine, whatever. You weren't hiding, you were just out to use Jane somehow. And now she's your number one advocate. Impressive. How did you recruit her to your side, anyway?"
"I have no idea," Loki answered without pause. "I didn't even want her on my side, not at first. Jane is…." Remarkable. Maddening. Stubborn. Infectious. How could she? "She's kind," he finally said when the swirl of adjectives failed to coalesce into something simple and clear quickly enough.