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Eridanus Supervoid
Negotiations?

Negotiations?

CHAPTER TWENTY

“How are you going to be right behind me without them knowing you’re there?” Thalia asked.

“Can you camouflage somehow, maybe? Is there a way for you to be there without them noticing right away, to buy us a little time?” Seizo asked. Thalia thought about this.

“I was already planning to go in as a seal; they don’t seem to know the specifics of what I can and can't do, although I know we have to assume they do. I doubt they’ll notice me right away. I can’t actually turn invisible, but I have a thing I can do with the air for a little while to make it very difficult for them to see me. If there are any animals on board, they’ll know I’m there, but I can talk to them.” She was thinking aloud, and Seizo did not interrupt.

She was silent, then finished her thought: “I can be there for maybe half an hour before they know, I’d estimate. That’s at a maximum, with a metric fuck-ton of good luck.”

“I have a cousin in Navy command; he owes me a pretty big favor. I think I can get him to take us on board one of their submarines for a little while. Subs are still new technology, and Hellfire Rising's ship is old-school; unless they’ve done major updates, they’ll never know we’re there until it’s too late,” Seizo said.

“Call him!” Thalia demanded.

“Then you call the Commander and let him know what’s happening.”

They both got busy with their phones. Thalia faded in and out of her Fury, her eyes and teeth changing, then changing back, undulating in the uneven current of her rage and fear.

***

The crushing weight was lifted after several moments, but it took time for Harada to regain his senses. “By all means, hurt him as much as you like,” Furutani Aimi was saying when the ringing in his ears ceased. “But don’t risk his life; Teiji-sama wants him alive.”

Two others replaced the men who had pushed him between them using the pole, one of whom was now dead and the other seriously wounded; he had no hope they would soon forget that had been his doing. He would not be given another chance at escape. They yanked him back to his feet and propelled him toward a T-shaped wooden beam about five feet tall, with a two-foot diameter base and four-foot crosspiece. He was pushed up against it.

“Prop him up," Aimi said. "I'm about to put him back to sleep." She stood in front of him, smiling sweetly as she reached out and squeezed his throat at both carotids. He passed out within half a minute.

His next awakening was the worst of his life. He was bound tightly to the crossbeam, his mouth full of cloth and his lips sealed so he could not push it out. He was powerless to do anything but wait.

He could hope Thalia wouldn’t find him, or wouldn’t come after him and walk into their trap, but he didn’t believe either of those things, knowing her as he did. Whether or not she could best Sekiguchi, he was in the untenable position of being unwilling bait.

He knew they would not untie him again, risking he would succeed this time in killing himself as well as anyone else he could take with him. In trying to leap off the ship, he had also revealed that he thought it was likely Thalia would come after him. That wouldn’t have mattered if he had succeeded, but as it was, it added to his burden.

This was without question his bleakest moment; death seemed an unreachable, unbearably desirable goal. He stared at the water, wishing he could will himself dead, praying to any god he could think of to give him just one fucking break already.

***

The submarine vessel was a hybrid, Thalia saw; some dark matte metal exterior she had not seen before with brass fittings and copper pipes ending in gauges.

The interior was lined with sleek white panels punctuated with more copper and brass. As expected, it was spare and utilitarian, apart from the captain’s quarters, which were unexpectedly sumptuous. They were furnished with a brocade and velvet sofa in gold and brown stripes that matched the comforter on the four-poster bed, along with a gorgeous mahogany headboard, desk, office chair, and bookshelf lined with leather-bound tomes and neatly wrapped scrolls. A beautiful old map of Japan took pride of place on one wall, and near a leather armchair stood a liquor cabinet disguised as a beautiful globe made of lapis lazuli for oceans and mother-of-pearl stained in various hues for the continents.

Okada's cousin, who had procured it for their use with gratifying promptness, explained that it was built for speed on top of the water as well as for diving beneath it to remain hidden. This was fortuitous, since she had not been certain of her ability in seal form to adapt from the interior of the ship to the depths of water instantaneously rather than diving into it from the surface as she normally did.

She stood now on deck, pale with anxiety, watching the water swirl beneath her in the sub's wake. She wondered with acute distress what was happening to her beloved, praying constantly that he was all right; praying their rescue mission would succeed. Restless, she snatched up the brass telescope near the surface helm and surveyed each direction yet again.

They were heading toward the coordinates Yamamoto had provided for them, knowing this course would take them not to the Hellfire Rising ship directly, but at least to its vicinity. From there they would have to find its specific location using their own ship's instruments – and, perhaps more importantly, Thalia's intuition.

She could always sense the emotions of those around her if she probed, especially those she was close to; when in her animal forms, their emotion stood out to her even more than usual, in waves of strange fiery shades of radiant light as distinctive to each individual as a personal aura. Therefore, she knew that in her seal form she would sense Tetsu's presence long before she could see him. As she drew nearer, the light from him would grow more vivid. It would guide her to him as surely as the sonar and radar would draw the sub toward the ship. At least, that was the plan.

Okada came out of the hatch and approached the helm where she still stood. She raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction. He nodded, looking as anxious as she felt.

“We're within half a mile; the sub will go under now. Assuming you want to keep to your plan, I figure you'll want to get into the water now too. We'll give you time to get well ahead of us; there are some calibrations to be finished, according to my cousin, which will help the main engines run more efficiently; we'll use that to give you a head start. Hopefully it'll be enough, but not too long.”

“Yes, we'll hope so. See you soon, then, Sei-chan,” she said, giving him a brave smile and extending her hands. He took them and squeezed, trying to smile in return; she saw how worried he was, and loved him for it. “You'll have to turn around to preserve my modesty. Here, take my cloak,” she said, handing it to him. He took it and turned, but could not help looking around to see her transformed when he heard her slide softly toward the water. Her seal shape was sleek and lovely, smooth and brown.

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She relaxed into the seal's familiar shape, then slid into the water, feeling the smooth coolness of the waves enfold her, welcoming and deep. She dove, cleaving the water around her in swift motion, her goal sharp in her mind. She ignored the fish which fled from her in panicking, graceful schools; they were not her priority now; she would take only what she needed as she went, and for now she was focused only on getting closer to the ship.

As she went, she snatched just one or two unwary fish who didn't have the sense to get out of her way to sustain her. This was not a hunt in the normal sense; she was hunting a ship, hunting the ones who had stolen the one she loved. She would not stop until she had him back, safe by her side.

***

There was a seal in the water near him, Tetsuya noticed that afternoon. His heart leaped, then sank, contracting with fear. Perhaps it was not Thalia; there were many seals in this part of the ocean. But she turned her head, and he knew that the soul looking out of this seal’s eyes was hers. He shook his head at her, then tried - irrationally, but with all his strength - to reach her with his mind, to send her a message telepathically:

This is a trap, Thalia; I’m the bait. If you have any love for me, don’t take it. Get away from here and be safe.

She dove under the surface; he had heard nothing back from her, so he had to assume she had not heard him.

Then it came to him, an odd sensation as if her voice were whispering from inside him: Idiot. You really expect me to leave you there like that? I guess that’s what you would do if it were me, right? No, I didn’t think so.

He wondered if he was simply going mad from sunstroke, or if this was a real conversation. His mind was a morass of frustration and fear for several moments. He forced himself to calm down and warn her, on the off chance this was really happening: They know all about you, and they imagine even more. Nothing good will come of this.

The seal leaped into the air as if in reply, then toward the deck with sinewy grace. Midair, however, it disappeared.

Or so it seemed. The air shimmered like a mirage on a hot day over a sand dune; it could be his vision failing, Harada thought. He had been given water regularly, but no food, and his wounds were taking their toll – not to mention the intense cramping from being bound for several hours.

But it was not his vision failing, unless it was also the rest of his mind simultaneously losing its grip on reality. Thalia’s voice came softly to him, very close to his ear this time. “Try not to react. I need to touch you to assess your condition.”

He could not speak, but she understood his confusion.

“Every girl keeps a few secrets,” she said saucily in his other ear, again no more loudly than the sea breeze. “I can use air particles as camouflage for a short time; I’m not invisible, but I’m very difficult to see if you don't already know I'm here.”

As she said this, he could see her, faint but clear against the horizon; she laid a cool hand against his burning forehead, then put two fingers to his throat to take his pulse. She examined his shoulder, then knelt to look at his thigh; both wounds were crusted with blood and likely infected. Next, she turned her attention to his ribs – which had been kicked a few times – and ran her hands along as much of the rest of his body as she could to check for broken bones. Her gentle touch nearly undid him; he closed his eyes, trembling with strain and worry.

Tenderly, she put her cool hands over his heart, then bowed her head; he felt a sense of well-being, of peace, stealing over him from his feet to his head. The pain diminished greatly, and he felt stronger than he had in hours.

When she lifted her head, he could see her more clearly. She was becoming visible, and his heart filled with helpless panic. He could not help trying to warn her.

“Tetsu, stop worrying so much,” she said, shushing him with a delicate finger. “we’ve lived far too long for anything to merit this much anxiety.” She pressed closer on tiptoe and whispered, “Get ready; I’m about to free you, so anyone looking will know something’s up whether they can see me or not. You're going to have a lot of discomfort in the limbs at first, especially near your wounds - but I'll help as much as I can.” He moaned, his body responding to her despite everything.

His eyes widened a moment later, focused with panic on hers. She knew then that her cover was already blown, and at any moment one of Hellfire Rising's members would see her and raise the alarm. She’d counted on having more time unseen, but had redirected a lot of her power into starting the urgent healing process for Harada instead. He was more seriously wounded than she had hoped. She swiftly unwound the gag and pulled it out of his mouth, then lifted the ladle of water that had been left nearby in a bucket so he could drink.

“You never listen to me,” he said once his immediate thirst was quenched, his voice still hoarse.

“Not true,” she protested. “I listen very carefully, and then I do what I think is best.”

“I told you Sekiguchi’s after you; you shouldn’t be here! You’re not safe,” he hissed, surprised that underneath his terror and love he had room to be annoyed. “Also, you’re standing here naked on a ship full of terrorists who are hunting you!”

“You,” said Thalia indignantly, drawing herself up to her full diminutive height, “were kidnapped and are now tied to a post. You don’t get to give lectures on staying safe right now. Possibly not ever.”

“Are you going to cut me loose, or just keep rubbing it in my face?” he retorted.

“Shut up,” she said, and kissed him. Despite the situation, he found himself kissing her back.

A guard strolled past; there was a naked woman with long red hair kissing the prisoner’s unbound mouth. This took a second to process; then he did a double-take, and was about to sound the alarm when his knife was stolen from its sheath on his thigh and slashed across his throat. She was no longer able to camouflage, but she could still move like the wind.

Someone else saw her, and distant shouting began. She took the dead man’s hakama and with a moment's difficulty tugged it off him, then donned it. It was better than nothing, though not much more than that could be said for it.

She swept back to Tetsuya and cut him loose, beginning with his legs. His limbs were useless at first; she helped massage them quickly back to life using more energy for healing, then gave him the katana she’d taken from the guard she killed.

“Seizo and the others are on their way,” she murmured. Then she stood up to confront the enemy, who by this time had nearly crossed the distance en masse. They were not rushing, having seen their comrade’s body in a pool of blood, some of which also liberally adorned the pale green front of his hakama, which Thalia was now wearing.

She made an imposing sight; her waist-length red hair flew around her like angry venomous snakes, and she still carried the bloodstained knife she had taken from the dead guard. The hakama was hastily tied around her waist, draping open to reveal a lot of creamy cleavage.

“I admit I’m impressed,” Sekiguchi called up to her, smiling with as much delight as if he were meeting her for a coffee date.

“Are you?” she said in much the same tone. “I’m afraid I cannot return the compliment.”

“But clearly my guess as to what you value was correct,” he objected coyly, maintaining his tone of casual flirtation.

“Indeed, and how shall I thank those who abducted my beloved, shot, stabbed and beat him, left his wounds undressed, and bound him to a stake for a whole day? You realize what it is I do; or shall I show you?” she said, the ice and fire of the Fury fully present in her voice and face.

“I would like nothing more than a demonstration, my dear, but a less personal one than you have in mind would be more appropriate, given the situation.” Sekiguchi had now approached quite near her.

“And what situation is that?” she asked, baring her long, sharp fangs in a terrifying smile.

“You yourself pointed out the grave condition in which your Demon mate finds himself; Aimi has him in her sights even now. However skilled he is with a blade, he is still no match for her poison. Especially weakened.”

“Oh, please. You disappoint me. This is the Demon Vice-Commander; he has bested even guns before. Darts will be a picnic,” Thalia replied with a shrug. Harada winced; there would be no splitting bullets in half today for him, whatever he had done in the past. He could barely stand.

“Ah, but even were he in a state to do so again, he is not the only one you care for, I think,” Sekiguchi said then, and signaled someone further back. A limp bundle of bloody clothes was brought to Sekiguchi’s feet and dumped there.