Beneath
Chapter Eighty-Six – Concern
In the Computer Room, Loki looked up what he'd been meaning to since Monday, when Jane had confirmed the incident at Stark Tower. He wanted to see its aftermath, and he was curious about the theory of sabotage Jane had mentioned. He knew he'd left behind clues, of a sort, and realized now that with taking the alcohol and the bracelets he might have pushed things a step too far. But even if Stark wanted to suspect him, his alibi was airtight. While he'd been destroying everything electrical in the tower, his past self had been with Jane at the DSL. It could almost qualify for a pleasant comical diversion if Stark did suspect him – almost, were it not for the potential complications it could create later on.
Finding what he was looking for took longer than expected – information about the infamous Tony Stark and his personal life and business endeavors, about his admirers and his detractors, was ubiquitous on the internet. He narrowed his search down to news items, and eventually found several articles on the attack on Stark Tower. He opened the first article, and allowed himself a wolfish grin at the date in the upper right corner of the page: May 8. The article was written eight days before Loki had caused the incident that the article described.
Which of course made no sense. The article could not have been written before Loki even planned to go to Stark Tower, before he'd even known Stark had sent that video to turn Jane against him. The article had not existed before, but it did exist now. Loki had caused it to; he had changed the past. He had changed this past, the current past. Can there be more than one past? More than one reality? More than one Yggdrasil connecting it all together? Loki wondered, his mind suddenly buzzing with all sorts of possibilities he'd never considered before, and he doubted anyone else on Asgard had ever considered them either, though perhaps on Midgard, with their concept of space-time, people had done so. It was all a fascinating – and vaguely headache-inducing – train of thought, worthy of contemplation, but not now. Later, perhaps, when he'd accomplished all that he wished to, and had endless time and nothing at all to worry about. For now all that mattered was this proof before his eyes of his ability to change the past.
Loki finally looked past the date and began to read the article itself, titled "Power Problems Plague Stark Tower, Arc Reactor Safety in Question." Do the news reporters receive extra pay for alliteration? he thought. The report had more conjecture than facts, noting that failsafes must have in fact failed on Stark's "green energy" source, an arc reactor tied into an underwater power cable in Lower New York Bay. The billionaire philanthropist and former high-tech weapons dealer had possibly been negligent. It said that the entire building had been evacuated due to safety concerns when even the backup power had failed, and it listed the tenant companies – including Stark Industries – that were affected. No reports of missing sunglasses? It estimated property loss worth millions of dollars due to damage to electronic equipment, but noted there had been no loss of life…yet. Yet? "Stiegson & Westermayer accountant Nigel Hawkins was taken for emergency treatment to Mount Sinai Roosevelt, suffering severe respiratory distress after becoming trapped in an elevator."
Loki reread the sentence. The words began to blur before his eyes. "Nigel's stuck on the elevator between"…what was it? "He'd just got on when the power failed. We tried to open the doors…" A mortal. An ant. A coworker of those women in the lobby, perhaps their friend. A clerk for a company Loki had never heard of. A man he'd never met. A man who'd never done anything against him. A man he'd needed not even an eyescan from. He pictured the German scientist, flat on his back, himself standing over him reveling in the moment. He pictured the Vanir warrior he'd killed with a dagger to the heart, his face contorted with pain as he pleaded for a swift death.
For what purpose did this innocent man suffer and possibly die? It was senseless. Pointless. Like so much of what Loki had been doing lately. Loki thought back to Jane's stack of papers. One more name for you to add to your list, Jane. Nigel Hawkins. If Jane found out about this – and he hoped she never would – she would be disgusted. Loki wasn't so sure he wasn't a little disgusted himself. Hawkins…isn't that Macy's family name? Out of over six billion inhabitants…surely such a coincidence cannot be. Loki had little sense, though, of how common or uncommon particular names were in this realm, and he couldn't dismiss the possibility, however freakish, that perhaps Nigel was a member of Macy's family.
He shook his head minutely. It was an accident, he told himself. Hardly intentional. No way to know this would happen. I did no more than cause a power disruption. Loki smirked then despite himself, for it was no small power disruption and no minor feat. In the next instant the smile faded again. It was an accident, he silently repeated, but it did not relieve Loki's unease. Is it not worse, for it to be unintentional? A death should be planned, it should be intended. At least if he were to cause it, it should.
Loki sat back, stared into space, rubbed a finger absently across his upper lip. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this, he told himself repeatedly, even though he knew these were dangerous thoughts. It didn't begin here, with the possibility of a stranger's useless death. It started perhaps with the Destroyer. He hadn't wanted to kill Thor. He'd wanted to ensure he didn't make it back to Asgard, despite Thor's friends' determination to make that happen. He knew if Thor returned, no one would accept him as king, not with Asgard newly in a state of war. They'd clamor for Thor, mortal or no, and undermine Loki at every turn. Thor himself would never accept it, Thor who made sure Loki knew his place, and Loki's place was behind Thor, certainly not on Asgard's throne. Thus it had seemed that the only way to be certain he'd be able to carry out his plan, to prove himself to Odin…
But these were familiar paths he was wandering down now. It had been a wasted effort, all of it…though at least he knew he'd done serious damage to Jotunheim. Killing Thor had never been part of his plan; it wasn't something he'd desired. Not then. Not really. A part of him, yes. The part that burned with envy, boiled with hatred, erupted with rage so bright it blinded him from rational thought. Or melted the scales over his eyes away and enabled him to think clearly and rationally. His wasn't always entirely sure which was correct. Either way, the larger part of him had sent the Destroyer solely – rationally – out of expediency, in furtherance of his actual plan.
Nigel Hawkins had died – possibly – so that he could put some of the Iron Man suits out of commission for a few days, or weeks if he was lucky. All this in furtherance of no plan at all, other than to make himself an unidentified thorn in Tony Stark's side. What am I doing? he asked himself. Before, his plans had been bold, grand, worthy of sagas that should have been sung for thousands of years. From the elimination of an enemy king and his entire realm to "severe respiratory distress" of a random mortal accountant he'd never heard of.
No matter, he thought, trying to pull himself out of the hole he was beginning to sink into, one in which hatred and rage were not there to buoy him. I'm done with these pointless little hops now anyway. No more tests are needed.
He logged off the computer without even finishing the single article he'd opened, and went to move his laundry into the dryer before gearing up to go meet Jane in the DSL.
/
/
"Lucas, how're you doing? Everything okay?" Gary asked as Loki began pulling on the last pieces of his gear in the alcove just off the Destination Zulu entrance.
Loki looked up at him, startled, even though the man had hardly snuck up on him. It wasn't just Jane, it was this whole place. It was softening him. Making him weak. He'd missed Gary's approach because he'd been mired in his own unhappy thoughts, and worse yet, his thoughts had clearly been evident on his face, judging by Gary's look of concern. "Fine, thank you. I would simply rather be working inside today."
Gary nodded. "I hear you, man, but me, I'm glad to get out every day. I don't like feeling cooped up. Part of why I joined the Navy, that and following in my old man's footsteps. I wanted to see the world, didn't want to get tied down to any one place, didn't want some desk job stuck inside all day pushing paper for a living."
"And did you not serve in the Navy cooped up in tight quarters onboard ships in the middle of the ocean?" The answer reflected Loki's bad mood, but he managed to keep most of the sourness from his tone as he spoke the words. Asgard had no navy, but several of the other realms did, and Loki had toured their ships on official visits. He'd smiled magnanimously and thanked his lucky stars he'd not been fated to such a life, full of naïve pride in his status as a Prince of Asgard.
Gary didn't seem offended. "Yep. But you could stretch your legs out on deck and look up at the big sky, and shore leave all over the world made the cramped quarters worthwhile. I served at a couple bases, too. Remind me to tell you about Iceland sometime."
"Iceland?" Loki asked, an eyebrow going up in reluctant curiosity. He'd been to Iceland…though not exactly recently.
"Uh-huh. Don't let the name fool you. It's not a giant block of ice. Listen, I know you've got to get out there and get to work, you just seemed a little down, and…." Gary looked down for a second, then back up at Loki, with a expression of what might have been chagrin. "I hope it's not anything too bad, whatever exactly it is you're running from. I mean…I hope you can figure it out. And if you ever want to talk…well, I've been around the block a few times. There's not much I haven't seen, done, or at least heard."
Loki stared at him, stunned speechless. The moment passed and he quickly pulled on his balaclava and began working on the layers of gloves. "Thank you for the offer. But I assure you I'm fine."
"I'm not hard to find if you change your mind. See you around, Lucas."
Loki nodded, and Gary gave him a smile and headed back toward the main corridor, where he took a right and disappeared. Finished with the gloves, Loki pushed through the thick plastic strips and out through the metal door. The one good thing about being out here in the cold and dark of the South Pole winter was that if he wanted solitude, it was usually his. If there was a particularly spectacular aurora there might be a small gathering – he glanced up from the ice and saw diffuse green, nothing out of the ordinary now – but otherwise he could usually come and go without seeing a single other soul. It was a good time to think, this fifteen-minute walk out to the DSL with its built-in timer on how long he could linger in his thoughts.
Gary had said he was "running" from something. It was a deep offense, wedged between strange and unexpected expressions of concern. As if I've ever run from anything, Loki scoffed. He had of course, and more than once, but not for a very long time. Gary thought he'd come here to this place of desolation because he was running from something. He had been running, but to something, not from it. To Jane. To the possibilities for his freedom he'd hoped might somehow present themselves through her. He was no coward. Had someone said such a thing to him under other circumstances, Loki might have felt compelled to introduce him to his fists, or perhaps knives.
But the other things Gary said had left him momentarily baffled and prevented the surge of anger from fully taking hold. He'd gotten to know Gary somewhat, though it was largely superficial. They'd spoken a handful of times, and on Friday nights Gary joined him, Wright, Austin, and Carlo for darts. He wasn't sure why Gary should feel any particular concern for him, but thought it might go back to the night Gary had found out his father had died, and "Lucas," perhaps, was the first one he'd told. Perhaps in Gary's mind that night had forged a connection between them. For Loki it had merely been uncomfortable; perhaps for Gary it meant something more. There was also their perceived age difference – Gary was 51, "Lucas" 32; it was possible Gary saw himself as some kind of father figure. Loki snickered at that. Another father was the last thing he needed.
Whatever it was that made Gary think Loki might want to have some kind of talk with him, Gary wasn't Jane. He wouldn't push and prod, and Loki could simply extricate himself from the situation if needed. Gary wouldn't want to hear his stories. "There's not much I haven't seen or done or heard." I'm sure I could think of a few things, Loki thought.
/
/
Jane twisted the last screw into place as Loki held the metal plate still. She'd almost finished running the diagnostics on the new particle collector when Loki arrived, and he'd been quiet – she would almost say withdrawn – ever since, acquiescing to her requests for assistance and showing little interest in the work. He seemed distracted. She couldn't really ask what was on his mind, though; Selby and Wright were both also working from the DSL today.
"Okay, it should be all set now. Help me get it back up on the roof?"
Loki nodded and followed her out into the hallway for them to both retrieve their gear. He finished pulling everything on before her and went to get the device.
Jane watched him, then led the way out and up the stairs to the roof. She didn't actually need his help; she'd unhooked the device and carried it inside on her own before he'd arrived. It was really just an excuse to gain some privacy. "So what were you looking up on the web?" she asked when they reached the roof. Before the sunset, the views of the ice from here had been beautiful and seemed almost infinite. Now that it was dark and the moon currently only a sliver, the view on the ground was of shadowy red-tinged silhouettes of buildings and the roof served better as an observation desk for the sky. The ethereal green aurora out today would have awed her at the beginning of this journey, but by now this one was routine and unimpressive. She dropped her gaze and turned back to Loki, who still hadn't said anything.
"Nothing important," he finally said. "Just checking the news headlines. I like to have some idea of what's going on in this realm."
"Oh. Anything interesting going on?" Jane had never been a news junkie. She wasn't terribly political and found much of what passed for news to be closer to entertainment, and the rest of it to be too frustrating and depressing.
"Not particularly." He hoped she wouldn't press. If she did, though, he could cite the other articles that had been advertised to the side of the one he'd actually looked at – flooding in central Europe, a kidnapped boy rescued in Nebraska.
Jane signaled Loki over to the bare spot where the detector had been, and once he had it in place, she pulled off her outer gloves and got to work tying it back into the cables that sent its data down into the DSL and onward.
"Is this about the washing machine?" she asked as she stood up and pulled the gloves back on.
Loki blinked in surprise. "Is…what about the washing machine?"
"That I had to…I mean, are you embarrassed?"
Loki stared a moment longer, then gave a short laugh. "No. I have always learned quickly, Jane, but I'm not omniscient. Given a bit of time and some privacy and perhaps a few rags to test in the machine, I would have figured it out myself. It was more efficient and less risky for you to explain the settings and simply show me."
"Did you remember to take your stuff out of the washer?"
"My clothes are in the dryer now. I'll retrieve them when we go in for lunch."
"Okay. But I'm telling you, you should hang them up in your room instead of using the dryer. It helps a little bit with the low humidity."
"I don't wish to have what little space I have available taken up by clothing hanging across the middle of the chamber. But I do thank you for the advice, and if I have need of any more of it, I'll come to you first," he said, his tone growing sharper than he intended.
"You're welcome," Jane said with a pointed frown she hoped he could make out despite the black balaclava.
Loki stared down at her in annoyed confusion, until he realized what she was doing. "I do appreciate your assisting me, Jane."
If Loki didn't want to tell her what was bothering him, Jane supposed that was fine. She could be satisfied that at least he'd apologized, in a way, for snapping. And that he'd finally thanked her for helping – though in all fairness, they'd been interrupted a lot in the Laundry Room and maybe he just hadn't had the chance at the time.
They started in, but just outside the door Jane halted. "Will you carry Pathfinder back out here for me today after lunch?"
Loki grit his teeth and was glad that Jane could not see the mild panic he'd probably failed to entirely keep from showing on his face. "Why do you want to bring it back here?"
"It's just sitting out there. And before we dubbed it Pathfinder" – Jane paused for a moment, expecting Loki to interrupt with "before I dubbed it Pathfinder" – it was collecting some really good data here. It's the most sophisticated piece of equipment I have, and I don't want it to be collecting dust. Or snowdrift. You saw the new data I've been processing on dark matter. I want to see what else Pathfinder can get me on that. So will you do it?" It was too heavy for her to carry so far, and her only other option was to ask someone to haul it out with a snowmobile, which would invite questions she'd have to answer with lies.
"You have so many other machines up there, what does it matter? I'm still studying the Yggdrasil data from Pathfinder."
"Each of these machines is unique. They aren't interchangeable, you know that. And you don't need Pathfinder physically out at the jamesway if you want to sit out there and study the data it captured."
Loki cast about for a better excuse as quickly as he could. If Pathfinder was relocated back to the DSL roof, using it for travel would be problematic, changing its programming to specify time and place would become much more complicated, and he would have to make himself invisible and mask the flash that accompanied arrival and departure every time. "Jane…if something goes wrong here…if I'm discovered…it's a…a comfort to me, to know that I have an escape route in Pathfinder. If you bring it out to the Dark Sector and return it to its original programming…" If Gary thought he would run, perhaps Jane would believe it, too.
Jane scrunched up her eyebrows. "How is Pathfinder an escape route? You said you barely survived your last trip to Asgard."
"Yes, but I did survive it. With magic," he added, lest Jane get any – correct – ideas that she would survive it as well. "If your 'Iron Man' shows up here, would you not rather me flee to Asgard than destroy him along with anything and anyone in my way?"
"Loki…," Jane began, wanting to argue, but feeling herself beginning to give in. He'd never shown any signs of actually wanting to protect these people, and while he'd said hurting her was a limit for him, he'd never said the same of the rest of the Polies. If he wanted to protect them now, even if Jane didn't think the issue would ever arise, perhaps affirming that was more important than getting the best quality data, at least for now. "All right. I understand. The jamesway's a little closer to the elevated station, and Pathfinder's not nearly as exposed there as it is on top of the DSL. I can set it to basic passive collection from where it is. The location's not quite as favorable, but it's something at least, and if you need to use the go-button it'll be there. I'll just have to reconfigure a couple of things so it can serve both purposes, but that's easily enough done. I'll take care of it this afternoon. Sound okay?"
"That is acceptable, yes. Thank you," Loki said, posture relaxing with relief.
"You're welcome," Jane said with a smile.
/
/
"So, Mid-Winter," Wright said, pushing back from his desk an hour or so after Loki and Jane returned to their desks in the DSL. "Exactly one month away now."
Jane nodded. It was May 20, and Mid-Winter, or the winter solstice, fell on June 20 in Antarctica this year. It was the biggest celebration of the year, or at least of the austral winter. There would be a formal dinner, more extravagant even than the Sunset Dinner, and a big party. "I can't wait."
"It falls on Sunday, and they're giving almost everybody a two-day weekend. And hopefully some forgiveness on Monday morning," Wright said.
"What are you worried about? We get to set our own schedules," Selby said.
"I'm just thinking of my fellow Polies who are here on contract. No offense, guys, but a party where I just sit around and look at you guys all night won't be much of a party."
"No offense taken," Loki said with a polite smile. As if I would want to sit around and look at you and Selby all night.
"There's a tradition here. On Mid-Winter everybody watches The Shining. Have you seen it?" Wright asked.
Selby nodded; Loki ignored the question; Jane shook her head and answered. "It's based on a Stephen King book, right? I don't know if I'll be able to watch it. I mean with my eyes actually open. I don't really do horror movies, too much blood and gore."
Loki put his head down as though to peer closely at his computer screen and stifled a laugh. If he happened to still be here a month from now, it might be good entertainment to watch Jane watching this movie.
"It's not so bad," Selby said. "A few places, I guess."
"People who like horror movies always say that, 'it's not so bad.'"
"I guess you'll have to see for yourself, then," Selby said, his voice turning testy.
Jane gave a jerking nod.
"I've seen it, too," Wright put in. "Sit by me. I'll tell you when to cover your eyes."
"Okay," she agreed. That plan didn't always work; sometimes the other person got too into the movie and forgot to warn her, but it was better than nothing. She refused to miss the movie outright; she'd long since decided she didn't want to miss out on any of the traditions and experiences the South Pole had to offer…any except the 300 Club…probably.
"The dinner will be impressive, I'm sure," Loki put in, an idea having come to him. "Lots of fresh vegetables." He refused to use the South Pole lingo of "freshies." It sounded like a children's word to him.
"Oh, yeah," Jane said, nodding excitedly, not just about the Mid-Winter dinner, but that Loki seemed genuinely interested. "Mari showed me some of the old dinner menus. There were things on them I never heard of. Coquilles St. James? It's French for scallops in a cream sauce in the shell. This will probably be the fanciest meal I've ever had in my life…at the South Pole, no less!"
You must be easily impressed, Loki thought.
"What have you done wrong in life, Jane?" Wright asked. "I thought all astrophysics grad students and post docs regularly dined at five-star French restaurants."
"I guess I argued too much with my professors," she answered with a smile that faded when she caught Selby giving her a look again. She couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly – anger, annoyance, bitterness, something. This time she didn't ignore it. "What?" she asked, looking right at him. Jane didn't enjoy conflict, but she wasn't afraid of it, either.
"Nothing. It's just…I would have thought your fortunes had changed."
"Because I know Tony Stark?" she asked a few seconds later when she realized, or assumed she realized, what he was getting at. "His research institute sponsors me, and I get paid a regular salary. Just because I know a billionaire doesn't mean he's given me access to his bank accounts, Selby."
Wright was about to say something, but Loki cut him off. "Then you must still be doing something wrong. He pays me five hundred thousand per week. I'm considering buying a small country when I leave here, thanks to his generosity. Such a warm, friendly man, Mr. Stark."
"And a warm country, I hope," Wright said quickly.
"Mmmm. Of course."
"I guess I'll have to ask for a raise," Jane said, glancing around. Wright was standing now and nodding, Selby was looking down at his computer, and Loki was watching her steadily. She was glad he'd brought the tension down a few notches, but slightly disturbed by what he'd said, which felt like some sort of needling in-joke for her ears only. And part of her thought that she really ought to confront Selby and have it out with him, no matter how high the tension got.
"Macy must be excited," Loki continued.
"She is," Wright said. "I had breakfast with her this morning and she was telling me about all the greenhouse stuff that should be ready for harvest by Mid-Winter. Don't ask about the tomatoes unless you want a ten-minute lecture. 'Three different varieties!'" he exclaimed in the end in a high-pitched voice.
"She's very knowledgeable," Loki said with a polite nod as Jane laughed. He turned his attention back to the computer, his question answered as well as it could be. If Macy Hawkins were somehow related to the Nigel Hawkins who had recently died or nearly so, she would be upset, and probably not chattering happily about tomato varieties over breakfast. She hadn't seemed troubled about anything Monday evening, either, when he'd joined her and Jane for dinner.
"All this food talk's getting me hungry. Come on, Selby, let's go in. You guys want to come?"
"Um, not yet. I want to finish something out here first," Jane said.
"Suit yourself," Wright said, and he and Selby made their way out.
Loki glanced up at them from the computer. "Selby, let's go." Does Selby have no say in it? Jane and I are asked, but not Selby? And Selby follows like the weak little lamb that he is. Loki's disgust for the man grew further.
Jane, meanwhile, watched Loki out of the corner of her eye and wondered why he'd brought up Macy. She tried to remember any other time he'd mentioned another Polie to her. He'd brought up Selby once, but that was right after Selby had kind of lost it in the Science Lab. He'd asked about some Frederick she'd never met; it stuck in her mind because it had seemed odd. And he'd never told her who had "besmirched her honor," not that she'd ever asked.
It was ludicrous. It had to be ludicrous. It is ludicrous…isn't it? She'd never seen Loki paying any particular attention to Macy. She'd never seen him do anything socially with her at all, except occasionally sit near her for a meal, which was usually just a fluke of timing. She remembered then that they'd wound up across from each other at the Sunset Dinner, and she'd seen them talking. But that was two months ago, when Loki was still "Lucas." Surely that didn't mean anything.
In the end, Jane chalked it up to coincidence. Loki had been making small talk, trying to calm an atmosphere that had been growing tense. In talking about Mid-Winter it was natural to bring up Macy, just as Jane had brought up Mari. She was wondering whether she should tell Loki that Macy was interested in Lucas, mostly as a warning to make sure he did nothing to encourage it, when Loki interrupted her thoughts.
"I'm going in to take care of my laundry and get some lunch. Are you coming?"
"Yeah, okay," Jane said. She hadn't done much of anything in the eight or ten minutes since Wright and Selby left, but then she'd basically lied – she shot a quick look at Loki – when she told Wright she wanted to finish something before going. She just hadn't wanted to be stuck with Selby and whatever his issues were.
As they started off, Jane tried but failed to draw Loki into conversation about the data they were now working with, and then about weekend plans; he answered noncommitally and seemingly with as few words as possible. "If I can't get you to say anything, how about you sing something?"
Loki swung his head around sharply; Jane smiled, glad she'd gotten a reaction out of him, just as she'd hoped.
"I was thinking, maybe The Journey and Challenges of the Valiant Odinsons?" she asked in a teasing voice.
Loki stopped short and glared. "Is it too much to ask for a little silence once in a while?" He stood in place for a moment longer, Jane a couple of steps ahead of him and staring back, then set off again, this time taking every advantage of his longer gait and surer footing.
Jane watched him go, and by the time she'd recovered from her surprise enough to go after him and ask him why he was suddenly being so rude to her, she knew she would never be able to catch up. He was inexplicably angry, but she could've sworn he'd also seemed wounded.
/
/
Loki felt like his whole body was trembling as he entered the station and began stripping off his ECW gear. It wasn't; he had better control of himself than that. Not total control, though, obviously. He'd overreacted. He knew it. He needed some time to himself now, to calm down, to improve his control, to not overact to innocent questions he himself had invited Jane to continue to ask. He'd only been jesting when he'd done so; he'd been in a very different mood that day than this. He thought back. It was on Monday that she'd told him a somewhat corrupted version of that old poem…just three days ago. It felt like much longer. Since then he'd been back to Asgard, learned that Thor probably had heeded Loki's message through Sun Tzu, killed four Vanir in a war that wasn't his, killed a Dark Elf and quite possibly saved Thor's life only to find Thor believed he himself was the assassin.
He went straight to the Laundry Room on the first level and took his clothing from the dryer. It all had a vaguely lemony scent now, which he presumed came from the dryer sheet Jane had told him to use to cut down on static. Back in his room he put everything away – it wasn't that much actually, once the silks were removed – and stood there, not really knowing what to do with himself. He thought of Lifhilda and let his eyes drift closed, picturing himself riding through an open meadow, a lane skirting farmland, a gravel path alongside a brook. He breathed in the scents of nature, heard the hooves striking the ground in their familiar rhythm, felt the breeze and Lifhilda's strength and confidence.
It calmed him. He only wished it were real. He knew when he opened his eyes again, he would still be stuck here at this tiny refuge at the South Pole, surrounded by endless ice and unbearable cold. You should not have overreacted, he told himself, still trotting alongside a field of rye. It was uncalled for. She meant nothing by it. You only raise unnecessary questions when you let emotion get the better of you like that. She's all you have.
Loki opened his eyes; the village he'd been riding through in his mind faded away. Have? You don't have her. You have her silence because it is just as beneficial to her as it is to you. You have her interest because she longs to know about what lies beyond her world. Because she longs to know about Thor's world. Thor's people. She wants to "understand." You're a science project for her to form and test hypotheses about.
/
/
Jane stood outside Loki's door, hesitating. She wasn't afraid of confrontation, not even with Loki anymore, but not being afraid of it didn't mean she necessarily thought charging forward without thinking it through was the brightest idea either. Still, she'd never tried to choose her words as carefully with anyone as she did with Loki, and maybe it was time for that to change. She'd completely forgotten to do so that morning over laundry, and nothing bad had come of it. It had actually been pretty awesome.
The door to the berthing wing swung open – it was Paul – and Jane decided she needed to either knock or walk away. She nodded to Paul. She knocked.
Loki opened the door and gave a tight smile. He wasn't at all surprised Jane had come looking for him. She was tenacious. A kinder way, perhaps, of saying obstinate.
"You know, I really don't appreciate-"
"Jane, allow me. I apologize. I didn't mean to be rude. I have been…in poor temper today, but it has nothing to do with you."
Jane's mouth remained open for a moment, ready to continue with whatever words she'd been about to say before, and it took a few seconds to catch up with what Loki had said. "Okay, I, uh…apology accepted. Thanks. But the thing is, it does have to do with me, when it affects me. So do you want to, uh, to tell me what's going on?" she asked, trying to suggest with a vague motion of her hand that he ask her to come inside. There was only so much that could be said while she remained in the hallway.
"No."
"Lucas…"
"Do I insist that you bare your soul to me every time you utter a cross word?"
Jane frowned. "No. But to be fair, when I'm in 'poor temper' I'm not likely to cause a lot of damage," she said, keeping her voice soft.
"If you insist we be fair, let us also be honest. I've been in poor temper nearly the entire time I've been at the South Pole. Where exactly is all the damage I've done here that has you so concerned?"
He had a point. If she judged only by his time at the South Pole, while he'd done some pretty low deeds in the beginning in terms of lying and manipulating and spying, he'd only really lost control once, and otherwise had lived his life almost like any other Polie, just as she'd told Tony. But she couldn't exactly just forget what he'd done before, too. Regardless, it wasn't really damage she was worried about anyway. She just thought he would be better off if he talked about what was bothering him. It was basic conventional wisdom that talking about things that were bothering you was better than stewing over them, and it made perfect sense to her. "I apologize," she finally said. "I guess that was kind of a low blow. And it's not what I really meant to say. I'm not perfect either, Lo- Lucas. I don't always say the right thing." She gave a short laugh. "Actually sometimes I think I hardly ever say the right thing. I just…I think it's good to talk about things, and even though you sometimes say things that kind of bother me, I still wish you would talk to me. I'm the only one here you can talk to about a lot of stuff. In fact, by now I'm pretty sure I can handle anything you could tell me."
"Be that as it may" – and truly she may be correct in that last assessment, given what he'd told her thus far, given what she'd seen thus far – "the issue isn't whether you can 'handle' hearing it, as you put it." It's whether I can handle saying it, his mind quickly supplied. But that wasn't precisely true. He could say whatever words were necessary, do whatever deeds were necessary, if they were truly necessary. He had proven that time and again. "It's whether I want to say it. And sometimes I simply wish to be left alone with my thoughts. Surely you can understand that."
"Of course I can. I just wanted you to know…my door's always open. Figuratively speaking, I mean. Knock first, okay?"
"Of course," Loki answered with raised eyebrows and an overly innocent smile.
"Mm-hm. Okay, so did you get your laundry? Are you coming to lunch?"
"Yes and…yes." He hadn't intended to, but he felt calmer now. He may as well go. And it was better not to have Jane worrying about him and thinking too much about everything he said and did. He needed only a few more days of preparation – reviewing everything he'd prepared before and scouring his memories to select the best time – without interference from Jane, or any other Polies who might suddenly decide he needed to bring forth his feelings and put them on display. Then his circumstances would finally start to improve.
/
Thanks for reading, reviewing, encouraging! I'm back home now and should be back on my regular writing pattern for a while now. (FYI for those reading The Memory Casket too, I'm hoping to have a new chapter for that one up this weekend.)
Guest Feb. 23 (and anyone else curious) - My profile page captures all the stories I want and hope to write; currently four are up on the website, two complete and two in progress. I'm also actively working on another one, Trials, and though it's been a month now I still consider the post-TDW one What My Father Started in progress as well, it's just in fourth priority with means hardly ever any time for it. Those will be the next two up, but probably I won't put them up here at all until they're completed, because I do feel bad to make people wait a long time between chapters. I just have little time left for stuff other than Beneath. Anyway, that's the story on the stories!
Previews from Ch. 87: Loki remembers, dreams, plans - some of these things go better than others; Jane finds out a little bit more about what's true and what isn't in Norse mythology, and Loki's not so sure that's a good thing in the end.
And the excerpt:
Jane rolled over in bed and rubbed a hand up her face and back through her hair. She'd been dreaming something…something about a hockey game on skis in the dark under red spotlights. It faded quickly, as her dreams usually did. She then heard a knock on the door, and realized this was what had woken her. She glanced at her clock; it was just past two in the morning. The knock came again, along with a loudly whispered "Jane, are you there?"
