Writing > Misbegotten (new addition)

Chapter 37

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Daen:
Chapter 37

The message went out in the early morning, at around five. Simon knew that Adam liked to sleep in, and was counting on him finding out at about the same time everyone else did. With Bez's help, they were able to override Noah's restrictions and broadcast it. Only another government official could restrict access to it, and by then most of the people would hopefully be perusing the newly unlocked histories.

Bez's words the other day had really sunk in. Simon found himself short of breath as he saw the mass text go out, and knew that all over the city, every console suddenly had access to Earth's true history. Not all of it, naturally. Bez had been right about that as well. With his help, Simon had partitioned off the worst of it, stipulating to Noah that only adults could bypass that requirement and see the really bad stuff.

Even so, Simon realized he didn't actually care. All that mattered to him was Diana's safety. If he had to start a riot, or even a revolution to get that, he would. And if Adam chose to release her, it wouldn't be enough, because he could just have her arrested all over again. The only way to guarantee Diana's safety in the long run, would be to confront everyone with the inherent flaws in their system, and to force everyone to change those flaws to acknowledge Diana's rights. And all other women's rights too, he supposed, but that didn't matter as much.

Unsurprisingly, people began to gather around his house even by six am. Some looked confused, others jubilant, and some were angry. There were plenty of women in the crowd too, as Bez had made sure the public terminals also allowed access to the true history. Exchanging a grim look with Bez, Simon stood up and headed for the door.

Walter was right there of course, with his makeshift microphone and an understudy behind him carrying a tv camera. It was all the aspiring journalist could afford, but it was no doubt the best he had. "Simon! Simon, do you have any public statement to make, in addition to what you've already released?" He said quickly, and the group quieted a little.

Simon shook his head. "Not really. The evidence—the histories—speak for themselves. But I am here to answer questions that any of you might have about those histories. I've been studying the decrypted database for several days now, so I can give pointers to people about the best places to start. Or the places to avoid, if you don't have a strong stomach," he added sourly.

A younger woman he didn't know spoke up. "So... it's true? The Faith deleted our history intentionally? Diana wasn't lying about the data corruption?"

Simon took a forceful step forward. "That wasn't Diana. You all saw the message: that was the woman whose cells were used to create Diana. Her name was Georgina, and yes, it seems that everything she said was true. The Faith intentionally stole our own history from us, trying to erase it entirely. If Georgina hadn't done what she did, they would have succeeded."

"But why?" Rhys put in. "Why would they want to hide anything from us? We're supposed to be their legacy!"

"I can only guess at their reasons," Simon responded sadly, "but I assume it was about control. Christianity was the dominant religion on Earth for over a thousand years, and for all we know it still is. But the Faith's particular version of Christianity was a tiny part of the whole truth. On Earth, they were considered zealots. Fanatics who interpreted the Bible too literally. Their leaders could control their members much more easily if everyone agreed that their version of Christianity was the only real one. Their women were easy to control if they were kept ignorant and barely educated, and never allowed to learn more than just the basics. It was all about control, as far as I can tell."

Walter raised his mic, to Bez this time. "Congressman, it takes the authority of an elected official to override Noah's restrictions and broadcast mass information like this. Are you willing to go on the record, saying that it was you who made this happen?"

Simon gave him a slight lift of his eyebrows, and Bez looked a little exasperated. "Yes, it was me. I've known Simon for a long, long time. When he showed me what he'd uncovered, it was overwhelming to me too, but I didn't have any reason to doubt his word, or his intentions. It took me a little while, but I eventually agreed with him that the best course of action would be to release it to everyone. Our most important responsibility, is to the truth."

Simon hid a smile. Bez might not like the hustle and dealmaking associated with political power, but he definitely had a presence, and a way with words.

Three people pushed their way to the front of the crowd, glowering. It was Adam, flanked by John and Alex. Strangely, Argent wasn't present. Most likely he was watching from afar, not willing to risk tarnishing his reputation by getting directly involved on either side. "Yes, our duty is to the truth, but is that what this really is? You all know that Simon has a very good reason to stir up trouble. You all know that his wife is in government custody right now, on charges of violating the Faith Doctrines. Violating the Constitution itself, as of just a few days ago! He would say anything—fabricate whatever so-called evidence he has to—in order to get her free. And since he's not actually a soldier, and doesn't have any real support with true soldiers, he resorts to lies and misinformation to get what he wants!"

Simon had expected pushback from Adam, but the venom in his voice was a surprise. He was actually angry, and probably personally insulted by this revelation. "It's true I want her released, but this is so much bigger than me, or her, or even you, Mr. President! Look at the files! Our whole society, new constitution included, is based on a tiny slice of human culture. The Faith had, at most, two thousand members. When Noah left, there were over eight billion people! The Faith was a single Christian denomination, out of over forty-five thousand different ones!"

"Even if that's true," John said, his face turning red with rage, "all it means is that they got it right. Out of all of those... denominations," he practically spat the word, "they were the true Faith. Out of all of those people, those two thousand visionaries were the best people on Earth! Their system worked—our very existence is proof of that!" He waved an arm around at the crowd. "Just look at us!"

"Did it work?" Simon put in quickly. He didn't want to give John any chance to cow the audience using his religious authority. "If Diana had followed the teachings of the Faith, she never would have become a pilot. She never would have been training in secret, and she never would have been able to train others when the fighting broke out. You all know," he added to the crowd, "how close Cain was to killing us. You all know just how resilient and unrelenting and efficient his drones could be. We lost sixty-two of our people to him. If Diana hadn't already been an experienced pilot when the fighting started, who's to say how many more we would have lost? Most likely none of us would be around to hate her for it!"

That last point was directed at the former pilots in the crowd. As angry as most of them probably were with her for deceiving them, she had saved many of their lives, both before and during the final fight with Cain. For soldiers, at least according to Bez, serving with someone created a powerful bond, and he was counting on that bond to help Diana.

Simon tried to moderate his tone. "The Faith were skilled programmers and scientists—women included by the way—” he added to twist the knife a little. "Still, their Doctrines nearly got us killed. And it wasn't for the first time, either. When that EMP hit years ago, and Noah was down for the count, it was Diana who got me up there in time to fix him! Most of us would have died back then, too, if it weren't for her!"

"So you admit it!" Adam put in harshly. "You knew she was a pilot back then!"

Simon sighed. "There's no point in hiding it anymore. If you're going to punish her for saving our lives, you should all know that she's done it multiple times now."

"That's the proof," the President responded triumphantly. "You all heard him admit it, people. He's been colluding with Diana for years now! It's also proof that the whole 'database' he revealed to you is a lie! He's been working on it for years, in preparation for the day that he and Diana were ever found out. He's trying to trick us all, in the most cynical way: attacking our very Faith, and the cornerstone of our society!" He stepped forward, glowering. "You're an evil man, Simon. I can't believe I ever thought you were my friend."

"I am your friend," Simon insisted. "Or at least I don't mean you any harm. Even so, I couldn't possibly have faked that database. There are literally hundreds of thousands of files in there! If I spent every free second of my life trying to fake up a history of Earth, I couldn't manage to make up even one percent of what's in there!"

"You wouldn't need to," John put in, his earlier rage having cooled. Now he was the pastor again: calm, assured, and calculating in the eyes of the public. "You know more about Noah's programming than anyone. You could have very easily reprogrammed him, not just to hide what you and your blasphemous wife were up to, but also to fabricate a history that justified it! Noah can fake voices, as we all learned recently," he said to the pilots in the crowd. "He can certainly fake maps, pictures, text files, and even videos if it suited him. Or rather if it suited you, since you're the traitor pulling his strings."

"I don't have access to Noah's programming," Simon protested. "He cut me off from it years ago! I copied his database back then, and I've been decrypting it ever since! Ask him, if you don't believe me!"

"As if we can trust his word either, at this point," Adam spoke up. "What did you think: that you could just spout off a bunch of lies to these good people? That you could whip them into some kind of treasonous frenzy, and they'd march off to the city center, intent on overthrowing the government?"

"It's happened before," Simon retorted, thinking back to a more recent entry in the true American history. Granted, it was an inverse of what he was hoping would happen here, but belief was belief, and the violence back then might be repeated here shortly.

"I'll ask the people themselves, then," Simon insisted quickly. "Do any of you think that this is the way we're supposed to live? Women here are nothing but domestic slaves—the property of their fathers and then their husbands! You're nothing but baby incubators for now, and when all the cell samples are used, you'll be nothing but baby factories! Your daughter, Mr. President," he added sardonically, "is your property, and will eventually be the property of her husband, if you have your way. She'll never be her own person, and no other woman will be. Except Diana. She might be killed for choosing to be a person, but at least she was willing to risk it! And believe me, the histories have a lot to say about people owning other people as property. Things we were never taught growing up. It's dark, and it's gritty, and its violent, and it's horrible, but it's all true. These things happened. It's up to us to make sure they don't happen again!"

"Enough of this," Adam said brusquely. "We all know who and what you are now, Simon. Arrest him," he ordered Alex, who stepped forward immediately. "The charges are fraud, conspiracy, and sedition."

So far, Alex was the only person in the crowd who was armed. Obviously, Adam had been expecting more people to be angry at Simon's so-called 'lies', or he would have brought the rest of his improvised Secret Service with him. Alex pulled his gun and aimed it, and screams broke out from the crowd. People all around them shied away from the upcoming bloodshed.

Simon didn't flinch, but it was more out of shock than bravery. This... was actually happening! It was one thing to contemplate stirring up a riot or a revolt, but it was another thing to actually be on the ground experiencing it. To his credit, Bez stood his ground too. "I haven't ordered your arrest yet, Congressman Bezalel," Adam said inexorably. "Step aside, and I won't have to. You're already in enough trouble, letting Simon trick you into spreading these lies."

Simon gave him a minute nod, and looking angry, Bez stepped back as well.

Simon locked gazes with Alex, as the younger man approached him. Somehow, he had handcuffs, like in the movies! "Think about what you're doing, Alex. We grew up together. I tutored you in Math, remember? Am I really the bad guy in this?"

"The President gave me an order," Alex responded grimly. "Don't struggle, or this will be worse for you."

"A President who never fought at your side," Simon reminded him. "He never went into battle with you—any of you! He never risked his life to defend these people. I wasn't up there with you, but I was helping in my own way. I might not be a soldier, but I contributed to Cain's downfall, just like you did, Alex. Are you really going to take marching orders from someone who hasn't proven he's as brave, or as skilled, or as dedicated as you? Hell, the only reason he's the President is because he happens to be the oldest of us by a few minutes! We only voted for him because Noah taught us it was to be expected. If I'd been in control of Noah, wouldn't I have programmed him to teach us something else??"

Walter pushed his way to this end of the crowd, and extended a microphone towards Adam. "Mr. President. It's a matter of public record that you, Senator Argent, and Chief Justice John had no part in active combat during the recent conflict with Cain. Do you have any comment to make on the persistent rumor that you all failed your flight training intentionally, in order to avoid the fighting?"

Adam's forehead creased ever so slightly. "I would hope that the first example of the Fourth Estate in this planet's history would be smarter than to put stock in rumors," he said smoothly, though Simon knew him well enough to know that Walter had hit a nerve.

Alex's hands also tightened on Simon's wrists. He continued on anyway, attaching the handcuffs behind his back. "What will it be, Mr. President?" Simon said loudly, turning to face Adam again. Alex forced him to look another way, but Simon just kept talking. "If your position, if the Faith's position, really is the right one, then it can handle a little questioning, can't it? A debate, perhaps, where you can prove that this government is the apex of civilization after all? We'll use the same rules we did back in school, so no one has the upper hand. If I'm lying, and a fraud, then you'll dismantle me up there, won't you? Or are you afraid that I might be telling the truth after all?"

"I have no need to justify my authority or this government, to you," Adam said sourly, and gestured for Alex to move forward, pushing Simon in front of him. "I've already restricted access to all the lies you made up. Eventually, the damage you've caused here will be repaired."

"Too late for that, I'm afraid," Simon said proudly. "I embedded a code into the database. As soon as it was accessed, it automatically copied itself into everyone's personal computer. They can delete it themselves if they want, but unless you're willing to kick down every door in Greater Harmony and delete it yourself, you can't keep people from spreading the truth."

"They already know the truth!" Adam bit out, his composure crumpling a bit. "They know that you're a skilled programmer and vicious liar. They know that your 'database' is nothing but falsehoods."

"What if it's not?" A voice from the crowd finally spoke up. Alex had holstered his weapon, and they were less afraid now, apparently. The speaker was Rhys, pushing his way forward. "I flew with Diana. She's good—better than me by a wide margin. I saw her on the ground, too, holding that gun and covering Simon while he worked to shut Cain down. That's not in the histories, is it? It's something a bunch of us saw with our own eyes! That's definitely not a lie," he said forcefully. "I say let him make his case, in a public debate like he said. If the Faith way really is the best way, then you or whoever else you choose for the debate will be able to shoot Simon down, easy. If not, we should know as soon as possible, so we can pick a better way."

Adam growled. "Soldier or not, I will not be dictated to by you!" He said angrily again. "I am the President!"

"And you answer to us," Rhys countered right away. "Even the Faith Doctrines say that. How did it go? 'Verily, though the leaders among the Faith are the chosen children of God, they are but children themselves, in service to and answerable to the many.’”

He stepped up right to the front of the crowd, standing defiantly in front of Adam. Or respectfully, Simon hoped it seemed to some. “Even the Bible holds the leaders and the law to higher standards, doesn’t it? Luke 12:48 says, “Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more.” Your own constitution included that passage too, remember? I don't know if Simon's lying or not," he admitted, "but you can't just punish him without proof, and you won't punish him unless we let you. Sir."

Simon tried to hide his smile. He'd learned that the Faith leadership had wanted to stay in power themselves, but had also wanted to model their new society after an idealized version of America. Unfortunately for them, true democracy was incompatible with their strict Faith hierarchy. If they hadn't included that passage in their Doctrines, he probably wouldn't have stood a chance.

"Debate. Debate. Debate," the chant started up from some of the crowd, and it quickly spread. Rhys joined in, as did Bez and the few others Simon could still see from his position.

Adam's jaw clenched as he surveyed the increasingly noisy crowd. He shared a dark glance to his left, to where John was probably still standing, and raised his hand in a fist. Behind him, more security people were arriving, all armed.

In a flash, Simon knew what was about to happen. Adam would order the crowd dispersed, by force if necessary. People would be hurt and killed. The line would be drawn, and Simon would have been the one to draw it. "I surrender!" He shouted, and it cut through the crowd. "I surrender myself to government custody," he said again, after the chanting had faded slightly. "I will answer for my actions according to New Eden's justice system. I will face whatever charges they bring, and I'll do it quietly."

A shocked silence seemed to ring out from the crowd, and Simon turned his head to Adam. "This is your chance, Mr. President," he said softly, hoping that only Adam, John, and Alex could hear. "This is your opportunity to show everyone that you're not just a figurehead or a Commander-in-Chief. Agree to debate me, or send someone to debate me, tonight, in public. Prove that your side is the right side, not just to them, but to yourself as well!" He urged. "We both know that if you hurt me, now that I've surrendered, it will result in violence. Even if you win, you’ll just be making us into a bunch of martyrs. Jesus’ message went far and wide, but only after he was crucified on the cross! Are you really willing to repeat that here, with so many people? That would leave a scar on New Eden that might never be healed! Neither of us want that!"

Adam waited for what seemed like forever, before finally nodding. "A debate it is," he said loudly to the crowd. "Tonight, eight pm at the gymnasium dome. That should be big enough for every adult, if they're foolish enough to come. It'll be a verbal slaughterhouse either way."

The crowd let out a cheer, and Simon felt uplifted, even as he was walked away. He mentally began workshopping what he was going to say there, and hoped fervently that Adam wouldn't have him beaten in secret, so as to make him less coherent in front of the crowd.

He thought of one of his heroes from Earth; a man he hadn't even known about until yesterday. That man had also risked his life and freedom in order to reveal the truth to his own people. He'd ended up exiled for his efforts, on the other side of the world, but at least he'd survived. Somehow, Simon doubted he'd end up being so lucky.

-.-

Diana had been in jail for four days now.

It wasn't that bad, really. It certainly beat being shot at by Cain's drones from sunup to sundown. The evacuation site they were using to hold her was reasonably comfortable, though she was confined to just the makeshift interrogation room, the adjoining bunk near the wall, and the bathroom. There were plenty of clothes left over from when the evacuees had returned to Greater Harmony, and some of them were even in her size. The only real trouble was that she couldn't tell what time it was. She could barely see the sky through the window in the kitchen, and for a huntress like her namesake, that was problematic. Also, she worried about Simon. He was smart, certainly, but clueless sometimes when it came to interactions with others. Without her to steer him away from the proverbial sandbars, he might get into trouble.

Jules wasn't that bad of a jailer, either. It had just been the two of them for over a day now. He'd relaxed as soon as Simon had left, and was even keeping her company now, sharing stories of their training. He seemed to get over the fact that Tycho was really Diana fairly quickly, but he wasn't about to just let her leave.

Not that there was anywhere to go. They had supplies here for several weeks, but no planes to take them anywhere. If she was supposed to be moved, or if another person was supposed to visit her, Jules would get a radio signal ahead of time.

So, here they both were, playing cards around a small table. He'd been instructed to keep an eye on her, and to keep her from talking to anyone who didn't already know what she'd done, but Jules didn't fall in that category. "You wanted to be an explorer, right?" She asked, looking for the right option for a discard.

He blinked. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"I read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Jules isn't that common a name unless you wanted to be a conqueror. If that was the case, you would have chosen Julius instead. That left Jules Verne as the most likely option."

Jules grunted in response. "It was stupid. I was obsessed with Magellan, Crusoe, Drake, all the old sailors from Europe back then. I didn't realize that we don't have any oceans that big here, and that the ground is almost all flat rock with no trees."

"It wasn't stupid," she assured him. "Why do you think I named myself Diana? The Roman goddess of the outdoors, not the British princess."

He smirked. "I suppose that makes sense, for you. I'm still kinda shocked you survived after we hit that manufacturing facility. We all thought you were dead—even Torin."

"I probably would have been, if I hadn't met up with Simon," she admitted. I didn't have much oxygen left after the Havoc went down. How is the Vandal doing, by the way?" She put in. She'd remembered, vaguely, what Jules called his plane.

Again surprised, he smiled after a moment. "She's good. Took a couple dings in that final battle. I miss her, you know? She's probably off in some warehouse God-knows-where, along with the rest of our planes."

She could sympathize with that. Her baby was still in pieces hundreds of kilometers away. If she made it out of this situation somehow, Diana resolved to go back and salvage the Havoc.

The radio on the table crackled, and Jules looked at it curiously. "I wasn't expecting a check-in for another few hours," he said. He grabbed it and stood, stretching with one arm. "Jules here."

"Jules, this is Hippo. I'm inbound on board the Archangel. Could you verify that your landing pad is clear?"

Jules glanced over at the monitors showing the outside, and nodded. "You're clear to land. Why aren't you in your own plane?"

A garbled laugh made it through the radio's static. "God only knows where the Asclepius is right now. The President said I could fly the Archangel out here to get the practice. You'll be flying the Archangel back, after I replace you."

Sharing a surprised look with Diana, Jules glanced at the monitor again. She could also see in the distance, the huge form of the NE-2 on approach. "I wasn't expecting to be relieved for another day or so," he put in.

"There's some unrest going on in Greater Harmony. You did better than me at physical training, so the President wants as many good fighters as he's got right there, in case violence breaks out."

That shocked Diana. She knew that Simon would be trying something to get her free, but violence? Not only was it counterproductive, for him it was almost unbelievable. He was a programmer, not a fighter. He built things; and he didn't have any gift for destroying them. He'd even argued to keep Cain intact, once he'd removed the AI's power source.

"I take it you can't tell me any more than that?" Jules said, looking worried.

"Sorry, I can't. I know there's a briefing package for you, waiting in your home back in Greater Harmony. The President issued the orders himself. Hold on, coming in for a landing." Outside, the Archangel was slowing down and engaging its VTOL capabilities. "Hippo out."

Diana had witnessed several guard shift changes before, and they were always routine. The last time, it had been a single-person NE-1 that was used, and Massimo had made the guard he was replacing promise to not let a single scratch befall his beloved plane. It was usually pretty routine: the current guard cleared the landing of the plane, activated the airlock to let the new guard in, and then gave him a rundown of procedures to follow to keep an eye on their oh-so-dangerous prisoner.

This time was different. There was something in Jules' stance that wasn't right; he was agitated. He should be relieved that he was going home early, despite the circumstances back there, but clearly he felt something was wrong.

Instinctively, Diana knew what was wrong: there was some kind of hidden authentication code in the radio messages back and forth. Hippo had failed to use it, which meant he was lying about being sent here to relieve Jules. If that even was Hippo, actually. She'd used voice-disguising technology for weeks on end without anyone catching on.

Jules herded her into the interrogation room and then locked her in. In an instant, Diana analyzed the possibilities and probabilities here. Whoever was currently landing out there was clearly working with Simon. Simon must have figured out her location, despite the security precautions during his brief visit, and sent this person to rescue her. He couldn't be here personally—he wasn’t a trained pilot. He couldn't fly an NE-1, much less something as complicated as the Archangel.

Also, Jules knew that the person incoming was hostile. He would most likely play along, and let the intruder in through the airlock, and then shoot him the moment the inner door opened. She knew he had a gun here, though he'd had little reason to unholster it during his stint as a guard. It wasn't like she'd had any means of escape. And here she was, in a locked metal room, with a metal table and chair both bolted to the floor. She had no obvious way to escape and warn her would-be rescuer.

Deftly, she pulled the suture needles out from where she'd embedded them in her bootheel. She'd found them in the nearby first aid kit and hidden them away days ago, before Jules had come here, in case she might need them. They would be a poor weapon at best, but they might make for good lockpicks. Before all of this Cain mess had started, she'd had an interest in escape artists like Houdini, Gunnarson and Gallup. She'd even watched videos from Simon's hidden database, of how they did their tricks. Now she got to see just how much she'd really learned by emulating them. The plane had already landed outside, and her attempted rescuer would be here any minute now.

Cursing under her breath, Diana slid the needles into the lock carefully, listening and feeling for that slight click that represented them hitting the tumblers. She was reasonably certain she could pick the lock, given time, but doing it quickly and quietly was the tricky part.

Sweat beaded on her brow and a few drops made it past her eyes as she worked. She wiped at it frustratedly, and then felt another rewarding click. It was done! Carefully, she eased the door open, and caught sight of Jules. He was behind the couch—a sturdy wooden one—and aiming his gun at the airlock door. Which was already opening!

She was out of time. Jules was at least four meters away, and she was unarmed. In a panic, she grabbed one of the leftover plates from lunch, which had yet to be taken into the kitchen for cleaning, and hurled it at the nearest window as hard as she could!

The difference in air pressure between human-standard and New Eden-standard wasn't that great, so normal panes of glass were usually all that was needed to maintain air pressure. As long as they were sealed on all edges. Her plate shattered on the window of course, and she was peripherally aware of Jules looking towards her, startled. She was rewarded, thankfully, with the sight of the glass cracking, and an alarm sounding as a result.

Oxygen-rich air poured out of the room, shattering the window after a second, and the airlock automatically slammed shut. It was a safety precaution, sealing whoever was in there in the only 'safe area' left. As the wind whistled around her, Diana took a deep breath and held it. She was holding her breath from now until she could get over to breather storage.

His face contorting, Jules aimed at her instead. Not five minutes ago, they'd been chatting amiably over a card game, and now he was trying to kill her! She would have found it depressing, if she'd had any time to think about it.

Diana rolled to her left as a gunshot rang out. It was a ricochet, but thankfully it missed her. Grabbing another plate, she hurled it across the room. It shattered on the couch's leg, launching porcelain shards all around. Jules winced, and Diana took the opportunity to flip the dinner table and take cover behind it. She had to figure something out, quickly! Asphyxiation would take a minute or so, but that gun would do its work a lot faster. Fortunately Jules was in the same situation. He had to weigh following his orders and killing her to prevent her escape, against suffocating to death himself.

She peeked over the table, and for one fateful instant they locked gazes. Then he ran for the airlock door and the breather supply, spraying shots behind him blindly. She ducked again, and then darted out from behind the table herself. She threw one of the forks she'd grabbed, clipping the back of his head and causing him to wince. Then they were in close quarters, exchanging blows while still trying to hold their breath.

They'd both trained as pilots, not hand-to-hand experts. No doubt any real soldiers from Earth would have found their struggle to be an embarrassment for both sides, but Diana only had so many options left to her. It was a good thing she'd cut her hair short, because Jules grabbed her by the head and tried to slam her into the wall. She twisted back, in pain as he tore some of her hair out, and kicked him in the gut. On instinct he took a breath, and his eyes bulged. Gasping, he collapsed on the ground.

Diana snatched one of the breathers out and fitted it to her face. Jules was still spasming on the ground, like one of those fish she'd seen in videos after it had been removed from the water. For a single instant, which felt like an eternity, she considered leaving him to die.

She'd trained him, along with the others. He wasn't the best in the squadron, but he wasn't bad either. They'd grown up together, for God's sake, living only a stone's throw apart! Sure, there'd been a wall separating them, but they'd seen each other regularly during Noah's curated events. It was like he'd been some kind of distant cousin to her. And yet despite all that, he'd still blithely tried to kill her. Just because he'd been ordered to do so in order to prevent her escape. She was tempted to return the favor, and then go home and do the same to the person who'd issued that order.

Her 'visitor' was now pounding on the inner airlock door in concern. She smacked the door twice in response, and then retrieved another breather. She took a knee next to Jules, wondering if she should say anything as he passed out. Nothing came to mind. Once she was sure he was out, she strapped the breather to his face as well. It felt dirty, helping someone who'd just visited violence upon her, but she was sure Simon would approve.

She stood and pressed her ear against the airlock door. "Are you all right in there? Is your breather on?" She called out loudly, hoping her voice would carry through the thin air.

"Yeah, I'm set," the muffled voice responded. "Diana, is that you?"

"I'm here. Just hang on."

Diana stepped over to the controls, and entered in the override code. The inner airlock opened, and someone stumbled into the room suddenly, apparently having been pushing hard against it. Between his tangled hair and fogged-up breather, it took a moment for her to recognize Bez. He took in the state of the room—the shattered window, the overturned furniture, and the unconscious Jules—and then stared at her. "Hi."

"Hey," she responded with a twist to her lips. "I take it Simon sent you, and that he caused this 'unrest', or whatever it is, in Greater Harmony?"

Bez nodded, still looking a little stunned. "He arranged a sort of distraction, and told me where you were being held. I'm here to rescue you."

At that, her smile turned into a laugh. "Great job. Hang on, let me get something to handcuff Jules. We can't just leave him here."

He hesitated, pointing at her cheek. "He did that?"

Now that the adrenaline was fading, she did feel a bruise forming where he'd smacked her into the wall. "Yeah. But we can deal with that later. Do me a favor and drag him out to the plane. If his head hits the ground a few times, I won't mind," she added angrily.

He nodded again, and got to work. Diana had been locked up for days now, and she wasn't going to waste any time now that she was free. She did a once-over on this whole place, and then shut down the O2 generator. It wouldn't be hard to repair this place, but there was no point wasting the power if there was no one here breathing the air. Grabbing a pair of handcuffs from over by Jules' room, she followed him out to the plane.

The Archangel was just as formidable-looking as she remembered, and it had apparently been patched up recently. It was airtight again, so they wouldn't be running out of air as they went home. Assuming they were even going home. "I'm flying," she said brusquely, climbing her way up into the pilot's seat. "We may need to avoid a dogfight on the trip, and I'm a better pilot than you." She grimaced, even as she'd said that. Prison had made her blunt, it seemed.

Surprisingly, he just shrugged. "I figured you would want to." He hoisted Jules up into one of the gunner seats, and then jumped up into the other. "There are... some things I need to tell you on the way home, by the way. It's a good thing you'll be sitting, actually."

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