Chapter 64: Faith and Reason

Calls from Michael and Marc competed for Joan's attention. Seto ordered Roland to set up a video conference call, and soon they had faces on the flat-screen TV in Seto's office. Tamara took Joan's phone and mounted it on a tripod, relieving Joan's trembling hands. Michael and Mokuba appeared in the same panel, and seeing her own familiar couch in the background provided a small measure of comfort to Joan. More importantly, the way Seto held her reminded her that she didn't have to bear the bad news alone.

"Laura is listening," Marc nodded in the direction of where Laura sat offscreen. "That last brain zap didn't sit well with me, and she wants to take me to the hospital, but we all know that's pointless."

"Yeah," Michael agreed. "They're just going to bill you ten thousand bucks for all the tests, refer you to a psychiatrist who specializes in drug addiction, and send you home. Seriously though, that last one knocked both of us on our asses."

Mokuba nodded beside Michael. "So, what happened?"

Seto picked up Joan's phone and directed its camera at the wreckage of his workspace and the hole in the wall, through which Roland assisted Seto's crippled head secretary. Luckily, the blast of energy had cauterized Tanaka's arm, delaying the need for medical attention. Roland escorted Tanaka away from the scene as Seto brought the phone back to the tripod.

Marc and Michael stared at their phones with wide eyes while Mokuba asked, "Is Tanaka going to be OK?"

"Yes, but now I have to design an entire cybernetic arm instead of just a finger. I told you we should have removed her finger."

Mokuba rolled his eyes. "Just tell us what happened, Seto. Did you lose control of the ring?"

"Quite the opposite," Joan said. "It saved us from getting obliterated by Hera."

"Hera the Greek goddess?" Marc clarified. One of the previous companies he'd worked for had used her as a character in a game, so he knew the legends well.

"The very same," Joan confirmed.

"Hold up. Are you talking about a cosplayer or actual freaking Hera?" Marc asked.

"Actual freaking Hera."

A moment of silence passed as the men in California wrapped their heads around this new development.

Laura's head popped into Marc's frame. "For real? I mean . . . how do you know it was really her?"

"She . . ." Joan paused, unable to get the words out.

Seto pulled Joan to his chest, and she sank into his embrace. Her lips quivered and her eyes leaked.

"What the fuck did she do!?" Michael demanded, already dreading the answer.

"She cursed us, our baby," Seto filled in.

Marc froze. He'd wondered about this since that moment he'd let his fantasies get the better of him and had been immediately rewarded by a brain zap. He'd shoved his fears to the back of his mind over and over, but they kept surfacing. The way Seto said "our baby" with more emotion than he had ever heard fall from the CEO's lips drove reality home.

"What baby?" Laura asked.

Marc's finger twitched to end the call, but he realized that would leave him with even more explaining to do.

Mokuba noticed the ashen look on Marc's face and tried to cover. "The one Joan and Michael are trying to have." Another tense second passed before he added, "But Seto and I are hoping to get lucky too."

Seto stared hard at Mokuba. The visions Joan had shared with him had come from Mokuba. Surely he knew. What was his game? Or was he having a brain fart?

"I don't understand," Laura said. "Hera is the goddess of motherhood. Why would she curse you?"

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

None of the men spoke.

Joan finally broke the silence. "For fuck's sake, Mokuba! All four of you got lucky and that's exactly Hera's problem. She said it was against the laws of nature or some bullshit for all four of you to father the same child. So the moment it's born, it's going to turn to dust before I even get to hold it."

"Lucky," Laura repeated, "so that's what you kids are calling it these days." Bitterness edged her voice. "Sounds about right."

"Honey . . ." Marc searched for more words but found none.

"Don't start. I already know I'm not good enough for you. My shriveled-up ovaries can't give you what you want."

"Sweetie . . ."

"You thought you could get away with this, didn't you? Your buddies were going to keep this all hush-hush. At least Joan had the guts to come clean. You boys are cowards."

"Darling . . ."

"I hope Hera curses your dick so it shrivels up and falls off. Now get out of here before I take matters into my own hands. Go."

Marc's line went dead, causing Mokuba and Michael's panel to go full screen. "Real smooth, Joan," Mokuba said. "What happened to telling him in person?"

Seto scowled. "That hag Hera happened. And apparently your precious menopausal narrative designer is on her side."

"Don't you dare talk about Laura that way," Mokuba snapped. "I respect her, and she has good reason to be upset."

"And we don't? Think about it, Mokuba. Mrs. Aurelio loses nothing from this. She probably never had two eggs to rub together in the first place. Marc, on the other hand, is facing his last chance at fatherhood."

"Laura lost faith in Marc. Don't you think that counts for something?"

"Whatever. If you want to tie their marriage back together, that's your pet project. We have our own issues to deal with."

Michael spoke up. "Woman, I think we should skip out on the Imagination of the Mind tournament and stay home."

"No," Joan said, "they're counting on us."

"This isn't some little regional tournament. They'll have enough extra volunteers to cover for us."

"But I need this. I need to be surrounded by more solutions than problems, even if they're not the solutions we're looking for."

"Then you should have said that in the first place."

"Male, I'm tired. The point is I'm going. You can join me, or you can sit on your ass."

"I'll join you, but Woman better get her sleep. Male don't want to deal with cranky Woman."

Joan sighed. "That's going to be hard after everything that's happened."

Seto interlaced his fingers with Joan's. "I'll handle it. Dinner. Bath. If necessary, we'll use the ring."

Mokuba's eyebrows shot up. "You're suggesting we actually use it now!?"

"That ring got us into this mess and it may be our only hope of getting out. We need to practice, test its limits, and form a plan."

"That's reasonable," Mokuba agreed. "OK, good luck."

Michael made heart hands for the camera, and Joan returned the sentiment by moving her index finger in and out of a hole formed by her other hand. They ended the call and, even with Tamara's silent presence, Joan felt comfortable speaking as if she and Seto were the only ones in the room. "Do you think I just fucked up with Marc and Laura?"

"You already know what I think."

"You were supportive and I appreciate that, but maybe Mokuba was right to only give them a half-truth."

"Whore, if Aurelio can't man up and face the consequences of his desires, he doesn't deserve you." Seto kissed her firmly, cementing his intention to hold himself to the same standard. "Now let's get out of here."