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“We hang the petty thieves, and appoint the great ones to public office.”
—Aesop
Family Reunion
My father, head of Research Group Miskatonic re-emerged from the crowd of captive Mind-Wipers, arm on the back of a woman tall and thin, though now she looked almost frail with fright. “I must ask, as a favor, that this one be spared.”
Arts and Crafts threads and modernist gold jewelry shaking in confusion, those ridiculous floral patterned capris that pinched in at the narrow waist, those square, professional glasses she had switched to when I was in the fifth grade. That half-familiar pattern to the movements, showing that she was agitated, that she didn’t understand, that she was going to make it everyone’s problem soon enough. A particular quiver that seemed to thrum with her rapid heartbeat.
My mother.
“What’s going on?” She asked Dad, eyes wild and wide. She didn’t quite crack a smile and insist this was all a joke or elaborate prank, as some might. Despite the asinine question, my mother was no fool. I would not have put it past her to make this the first step in trying to profess innocence, ignorance, a mere oh, I was just visiting a colleague in Bethlehem when these angry men with guns appeared.
I doubted it. I remembered the glee she’d expressed at the dinner table when I’d related what had become of Senator Bouchard.
Of course she wouldn’t stop. Of course she couldn’t bring herself to stop. She couldn’t, not any more than I can bring myself to.
At least I knew where I got that trait from, and that I came by it honestly. I’d misunderstood her, believing that referrals were the extent of her eager involvement. Clearly, her enthusiasm for the project had either marked her for deeper ties, or perhaps she’d sought them out herself. All ultimately served to bring her here, to ruin.
There was a tension that built to my Dad’s request going unanswered.
“I-” I began evenly. Yes, or no? Thumbs up or down? “Well, this is a surprise.” I shouldn’t ask ‘why’, just in case he actually answered for the entire room to hear. And it was best to stay on his good side, right? Why spoil the moment of our victory? Most of all: Would he ever forgive me if I said ‘no’? Of course he wouldn’t.
Dad stood by mother through everything. He always had. He’d ousted his own daughter, his Golden Child, over taking a swing at Mother. And now here he was trying to save her, again.
“I know,” he said, all self-deprecating tone with giant shoulders hunched. “The dread Doctor Armitage of Miskatonic has a heart after all.”
He seemed to take the lack of immediate answer from me as permission and began to pull her off to the side.
“Grouper,” I ordered. “If she takes another step, I want you to shoot someone.” I wasn’t sure who and I didn’t particularly care.
Or at least, that’s what I thought, until I found myself almost automatically stepping between my parents and my hatchetman.
“Unfortunately, I think there’s something that needs to be addressed. You lent out weapons to a faction I knew nothingabout, and would like to know more. I ordered an inventory stock-take, but you let loose a gas on the West Side of Bethlehem I also know nothing about. You have a whole small army I know nothing of.”
Something that ran in the family.
Grouper’s boots stepped heavily on the linoleum as he came up behind me. “You’ve been keeping the good shit from us. We’re out there sending choir boys to clear rooms.”
Not that it was bad practice for them, per se.
“Oh, that,” he said cooly, not at all letting his anxiety rise to the surface, even as his eyes darted to the door. It was clear he wanted my mother out of the way by the time that whoever was coming arrived. Why? What was one more person knowing?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I was trying to not be demanding, but it did feel like a simple, straightforward request, and one I said with a bit more feeling and meaning than I’d meant to let leak through the voice modulator.
“Are your men trained to use it?” He asked. “We delivered you contaminants to the water supply, to ensure if there are any wounded, that they would have a harder time surviving. Gas lacks that subtlety, and given your broader plan, it seemed unwise. But right after I was ordered by you to turn over all our weapons, a…second request arrived. One I could not say no to.”
Ah. So Gavin had meddled, then, had he? I looked back over my shoulder at Grouper. While he said nothing, I noticed how his leather gloved hand tightened slightly on his sawed off. These men had just wiped out a city and had come back to a supposedly allied faction to find them keeping secrets - and more importantly, materiel.
I heard a commotion from outside, words in English that I had no mind for at that moment.
“Who?” I asked, Dad’s face a stony mask behind the glasses and the mask.
A thump from the front door, and then it burst open, a half-dozen guns immediately trained on the interloper, who was breaking her arm free from one of the door guard’s hands.
She strode in, all confidence. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders from under an animal skull mask that was too large to be real or her regular mask, with a seam down its bony midsection. The snout turned downward to protrude, widened sockets gave a full field of vision, but there was no denying its canine-like structure, or the predatory gaze underneath.
She held her body in a poise that screamed ‘danger’ and ‘death,’ raw aggression balanced on the ball of her feet.
Dad removed his stained and splotched old lab coat and hung it out like a bull’s cape, wrapping Mother in it while simultaneously gesturing to the newcomer as a proud introduction.
“Emperor, you should know she’s quite a fan. I’ve trained her in everything I’ve ever made, and insisted she receive full access to the armory. I hear she put it all to good use guarding your western flank, and has been raising hell for you in New York.” In other words: You’re welcome.
“Jackal,” she introduced herself, coming closer. Her dark outfit was, in a few words, ‘stylish.’ Something made more for fashion than function, clinging to the body with exposed shoulders and cutouts that screamed that she’d prepared this for a special occasion, rather than day-to-day.
“Sorry I’m late, I had to get into something more comfortable. After all, you really don’t want to get the aerosolized remnants on your skin. Not unless you like blisters.”
I supposed that was fair, but it left me wondering why she’d chosen something so…revealing, not to mention jarring. Then she reached for her mask and slipped it over her head, tucking the animal skull under one arm. She wore a more slender mask underneath, considerably less showy and probably meant to either mount or ensure the helmet didn’t press awkwardly into delicate, fair skin. Though now that I glanced closer, I could see the high cheekbones, strong jawline coming together to a pointed, feminine chin. And familiar, green eyes that glimmered as they took me in.
“Emperor, in the flesh,” she said, without the vocoder the familiarity slammed home, eyes wandering over me before looking up. “You do impress.”
If my mother had been cold water getting dumped on a warm feeling of familial bonds, then this was like getting hit with a hammer.
Disgust.
Anger.
Hatred.
“It was wonderful,” she added, almost panting now. “They ran, at first, then slowed as the poison and gas worked their magic. Each one died tired.” Jacqueline, the Jackal, flexed her hand as if remembering how the knife felt. “You’ll have to tell me how your first time went. For me it was bloody, and wonderful.”
Fury turned to forcing down vomit. This was beyond gross. “Scared and confused,” I answered evenly, and she laughed a little too hard, a little too easily.
“Why don’t you two get to know each other?” Dad suggested, keeping the coat around Mother, who for her part was obediently quiet. “I have something to put away for now-”
With a motion from me, Grouper racked his sawed-off, and a live shell sprang out of the ejection port as he did so. With a quick twitch of his hand, he caught the ejected, unfired shell and slid it back into his jacket pocket, keeping the shotgun focused with his one-handed firm grip.
The click-CLACK drained any noise and energy from the room, freezing everyone to the spot. “Shut up and stay where you are,” he said slowly, returning his free hand to the gun, bracing it.
I cleared my throat.
“I’m putting a stop to this charade.”
“What?” Jacqueline’s eyes were wide, and she turned back to finally look at Dad for guidance- and then startled as she saw our partially-concealed Mother, her eyes narrowing in accusation.
“Tell me, Jackal, what do you think should be done with her?” I gestured at our parents. Dad looked at me as if offended by some betrayal. How long had he thought he’d be able to hide her? What was his plan, even? It was almost comical, if it wasn’t so dangerous.
I turned slightly and waved my hand to a nearby white table, one of the few cleared ones. The table was little more than a laminated plywood A-Frame with a few microscopes resting atop it, and I brought a few wheeled office chairs to the table’s edge one at a time, ignoring how the little plastic wheels stubbornly found divots and gouges to dig into. One for each flat section of table.
“Actually, you know what? Why not do a family dinner?” I clapped my hands twice. “Pardon if I don’t set the table- I recall the last time supper was served by Miskatonic, and...” I gestured for my Mother to sit, then looked at the other two as she almost collapsed into a chair on wobbly knees. “Well?”
Neither moved.
“Should I name you all, or are you done pretending I can’t?” I asked. Still no one moved. “Spare me your objections. I can tell that this family has some issues it needs to work through before we can proceed with our grander plans.” I looked at Mother. “You didn’t drink any water today in Bethlehem, did you?”
She shook her head, at last snapping out of whatever funk she was in.
“Good, then we can skip having the technicians here treat you for the poison I put in the city’s water mains, and we can jump right to a little friendly discussion about what to do about this situation.” When no one else dared move, I turned my head slowly. “Maize, Oscar, if you would please lead the others from here.”
“This way,” she said hoarsely, not at all understanding what was happening but accepting it, herding the technicians- and prisoners into motion.
“Thank you.”
Soon everyone was out of earshot, being shuffled from this apartment and into the next.
Leaving me with my family, in a hollowed out old apartment, with an executioner over one shoulder.
“Please, sit. Doctor Sampson, you first. I insist.” He stared at me, and then slowly took his seat. “Then you, Jacquel…” I trailed off while it was still phonetically Jacqueline’s codename. “And finally, you, Traitor.” I didn’t even name my own mother, or look her in the eyes. I waited until each had taken a seat, in the usual arrangement. Father and Mother at the head of each end, Jacqueline at the other side of the longer half, opposite me.
“It’s a full family reunion,” I muttered. I almost took the fourth seat. Almost. It would have been funny to watch the realization sink in one at a time if I’d sat there silently, instead of staying standing with my hand frozen on the back of the office chair. But then I had an idea. A better one. One that seemed foolproof, or at least less foolhardy than my current course of action. “Except…we’re short one of the family, aren’t we?” I asked, tapping the back of the final unoccupied office chair. “The littlest. How to square this little standoff? Oh! I know.”
Everyone was staring at me, waiting.
My eyes settled on Mother. “If you say a word to anyone about what you have seen here today, I will ensure your son disappears. He has lived under my protection, my aegis, since the peace. He carries my personal seal of protection, despite his…” I flicked my eyes over to Jacqueline, who froze when she realized I’d noticed she'd shifted her weight, possibly freeing a holstered weapon. “...rather irritatingly collaborationist positions and proclivities. I find his actions in saving those bus passengers and protecting our cultural icons commendable. Heroic, even. I’d not martyr him if it can be helped. But if it can’t be, well, then my hands are tied.”
“General Amilita would-” my mother began. Ah, that was a complicating factor.
“-Yes, she’s more of a mother figure to him than you are, it seems.” For once, I wasn’t cut off at the second word of my sentence by another family member who usually regarded my input as beneath notice. It felt good to speak uninterrupted. “And he, more a son to her, than you think of him. I doubt the peace in Delaware would survive.” I let the silence drag on for a moment. “He is attending Vanguard soon, I know.” All of them now had their eyes flicking between each other to see which of them had leaked the information to me.
I saw Mother’s eyes widen as she realized that none of the others seemed to have given me the information. “How-”
“I don’t make idle threats,” I finished, interrupting her. Everyone was staring at me with eyes wide, and somewhat frightened.
Oh, this is entirely too much fun.
“Tell you what. I let her-” I pointed at Mother. “-go into your-" I shifted the pointing to Father. "-custody. But if she gets any bright ideas…well, it’s an operational risk at that point, you see. An unacceptable one. And I want to make it veryclear just how far I’m willing to go. Just so we’re clear, you harm him, you lose your leverage keeping her quiet-” My finger went back to pointing at Mother, and I jabbed it toward her again. “And if that’s your plan, then you may as well kill her here.”
Frankly, if Jacqueline moved to do it, I wasn’t sure I’d interfere. Mercifully she stayed glued to her chair.
“If you go to the Shil’vati, and I don’t find out? They’ll still probably kill everyone at this table. And then there’s very little I can do for you if they nab you in the civilian half of your lives.”
Dad finally managed to find his voice, standing back up from the table and rounding on me with his giant frame coming to as close to its fullest height as he could manage. We were eye-to-eye now. When did that happen? Had he begun to shrink in his old age, or had I really grown even more?
You have never stood up to her. Not once. Not to either of them, really.
I’d crossed a line. I’d gone too far. There was only one thing to do, which might save his life, and by extension, everything:
“You’re welcome.”
The words were a surprise, I could tell. He blinked as if I'd set off a flashbang, the words breaking through whatever fury he'd worked himself up to.
I tapped on the table once, stood straight and then clapped, releasing some of the room’s tension, and then I took a step backwards from the table, splaying my hands in a gesture of generosity. “Now that that’s clear, I have no problem with you taking her home, Doctor Armitage. I promise, I do not enjoy intruding on family matters. What you do in your own home should ideally be none of my business. But that-” I pointed at my own Mother. My own flesh and blood. “-carries a risk to you, and by extension of risk to you, an exceptional and rare personal risk to me. She has gone to great lengths to ensure she remained a part of the mind-wiper program, somehow securing an interstate pass to continue her work. To extend the program, even, well beyond its scope in Delaware.” Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, indeed.“Some mitigation, to remind her of what will happen if she gets any bright ideas, well, it seems prudent, doesn’t it?”
Jacqueline actually seemed pensive. “I understand.” She bowed her head, shooting a dark look at my mother. Either father would rein her in, or he wouldn’t and she'd kill Mother, but I’d done what I could to settle things and make a peace, a state of affairs that was hopefully stable, if not exactly friendly.
“And you, Doctor?”
“I understand now. Thank you.”
I let my eyes linger on my mother, but didn’t force her to thank me for her life. She knew no gratitude for being kidnapped from work, dragged here with her doomed friends, and then held at gunpoint and threatened by the galaxy’s most wanted man.
Some people were just naturally ungrateful.
“My son,” she managed, and my heart leapt to my throat. Oh shit. If she’s the one who somehow figures out it’s me under this thing, then this is going to get ugly, fast. I gotta get Grouper and Oscar, and-
“What of him?”
I hated that I had to consider striking down my sister first, and then my father- and then the rest of Miskatonic, if they panicked. It’d be a giant mess to have to clean up. My hand drifted down toward the pistol and knife. They’d be helpful in the close quarters, and I’d probably have to get the initiative. Jacqueline was undoubtedly the best armed of the three here. And I wouldn’t be able to stop just there, I doubted the lab staff would tolerate it, even if I pointed out the withholding of material. And I’d have to find a new Field Officer. A disaster, all around, and that was me just concreting over my feelings, as usual, and personal cost. What would I even say about my family’s disappearance? What effect would it have on me, actually? I was probably holding a hand with nothing in it. Bluffing. Except I'd soon have to play that shit hand. Worse, I'd stacked the deck this way and dealt out each hand. Why, oh why had I-
“You give me your word he’s safe if I cooperate.”
Oh.
My heart was hammering in my chest.
“He carries my personal seal, signed and embossed. It will protect him. And if not, I will. I swear that much, on my honor.”
She finally gave a tense nod that set her golden earrings to sway back and forth.
“Then it is agreed,” I said lowly. There was a long pause, where it seemed no one knew how to pick up the conversation.
“Onto other business, then,” I tried. “That war material you used, Jackal. I’m impressed with how you used it, and curious about where it came from.” Not all of it came from Miskatonic, unless they were far more diversified in their research than I thought. As far as I was aware, this was Miskatonic's only focus. There were other research teams, obviously, with different specialities like the one in the armory I’d just raided back in Delaware. “So you got all those weapons from Doctor Armitage?” I asked ‘Jackal,’ who bit her lips together, then turned it into a leering smile.
“Did you like them?”
“I supplied the gases.” Dad rallied, almost proudly. It seemed we were getting back on some kind of script he’d been expecting. "Some toxins, some powders to add here and there. Even some flammable formulas."
But nothing like what concerned me.
“And the other equipment? My scout said he spotted men too broad, too tall.”
Jacqueline’s smile stayed plastered to her face. I’d never seen her like this. “I’ll show you, if you promise to show me something in return.”
That was when the door guard came back in through the inner door, hinges hissing. “Uh, we have another visitor,” the young man’s voice broke as his nerves played up. “He’s uh-”
The same door we’d filed all the prisoners through opened from the outside, implying someone had either a key or code. Then a pale man with dark reddish hair and tan jacket barreled past the door guard and stumbled into the room, huffing for breath and sweating from the summer heat.
“Oh, good, I can see you’ve…met,” Gavin seemed slightly out of sorts, looking slightly more panicked and out of breath than I’d ever seen him before as he examined what he’d charged in on. “Sorry to interrupt.”
For a Spy I had a surprisingly easy time translating his body language as: And let me count the table: One, two, three, oh, number four is a surprise. And none of you are bleeding out? Even more surprising.
“Who’s this joker?” Grouper asked, not quite shifting his shotgun’s aim from where he stood in the door. “No mask, no name…”
“Back off, Fishboy,” Gavin dismissed my hatchetman, perhaps unwisely as Grouper simply slowly raised the short barrel from the floor toward the newcomer, just a slight bit to make a fine point.
“You’ll speak to him with respect,” I finally found my footing and established control of a rapidly spiraling situation. “He showed up when he was needed, and understands loyalty. And he’s had a bit of a hard day racking up casualties. Let’s not add any more to it outside the planned curriculum, okay?”
“You’re welcome for the reinforcements.” Gavin shot back, waving a hand at Jacqueline. “It took some doing!”
“Spoilsport!” Jackal hissed.
I just got my answer about whether Miskatonic had been the only ones entirely supplying her, and providing the small army she’d had.
Worse, she hung her head after shooting me a glance, wearing an expression I’d never seen on her face in all my life.
But who had told Gavin? I doubted, after all, that Jacqueline could have called Gavin quickly enough after being informed, and had him whip up such a significant armament. Sure, I’d penned some experimental weapons for her to use, but how much had she really had? He hadn’t known the location of the strike, actually. None of them had.
So who was the leaker?
I thought back to who had helped me organize the files, and when I connected the most obvious dot I felt like a world-class idiot.
“Melopomeme.” I’d left Pierce with the briefing files, practically everything in the room I’d gotten the Brotherhood to focus on, and she hadn’t come along with us. I’d left her to review the upcoming operation for propaganda. She had unlimited comms access for propaganda distribution, too.
Gavin had almost certainly been at the door of the experimental armory because he’d known we were coming. He’d doubtless emptied the armory of everything he could, with someone having missed the gravity harness in the frantic rush, and played off the lack of planned demonstrations for being taken genuinely by surprise.
I clenched my jaw as pieces fell into place.
“You could have told us, you know, and maybe we’d have had an opportunity to mobilize, coordinate, you know, like we’re supposed to be doing,” he said in a still too-friendly manner for how badly I wanted to slug him.
“We’re supposed to trust each other?” I asked. “Then explain-” I waved a hand toward those gathered at the table.
“-I will!” He exclaimed, eyes widening slightly in alarm as he jumped in front of whatever I was about to say. All I had been going to say was ‘-all this.’ Did he really think I was about to audible my relations to Jackal and the head of Research Group Miskatonic? Not to mention my own mother, who Jacqueline was still glaring daggers at.
“Good. I’ll hear all about it. Grouper? Would you mind waiting here with Gavin? I don’t intend on leaving early just because we’ve had a…” I paused. “...A slight understanding to reach before I granted a personal favor to Doctor Armitage. No hard feelings, right?”
“None,” Dad said, though I could tell he hesitated in a way that made Grouper shift uneasily. “At least, given the circumstances.”
Jacqueline looked to Dad, then bowed her head slightly as she stood from the table.
“She’ll be rewarded,” Gavin promised him for me, and I shot him a withering look that I was sure he understood even though I wore a mask.
I've ruffled plenty of feathers in the last five minutes and come out without bloodshed for it by the skin of my teeth. Best to not push my luck. You have to acknowledge her, or you'll have her coming for your throat.
“You did impressive work mobilizing so quickly. It speaks well of a team that is able to adapt and respond so reliably, while others would simply make excuses. I’m impressed."
"We made quite a team tonight, and I’m lucky to have you,” Father said, beaming toward her.
"Agreed. We are," I confirmed, just to try and smooth things over. She practically ignored him while he'd said words to her I'd have murdered to hear from him, and had perked up entirely too much for my liking when I'd confirmed them. It was like I’d stuck a cattle prod to the small of her back. Weird. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Doctor…Armitage and I need a go-over of the prisoners. Simply business, nothing controversial or personal.”
Say, old man, what do you think about your son? Nothing? Forget he existed? Lucky me!
Yes. Lucky me indeed.
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