It was an hour past midnight, and still Ashe waited. He was slouched in the shadows under the Lowbridge itself. The market was closed for the night, the stalls and outlets locked and temporarily abandoned and the various coloured canopies and shutters seemed to stare at him, their very silence almost intimidating. It felt like a ghost town. He'd only been through the square a handful of times at night before, always on early morning stumbles home after a night at some of the less reputable bars that the Lowbridge district had to offer, times when he'd been too drunk to really soak in the creeping sense of isolation and imminent danger. Lowbridge Market was a common haunt for thieves and muggers and had a bad reputation even during the day, at night it was widely known to steer clear and never walk through it alone. It occurred to him that choosing this spot was perhaps the most recent in a long list of questionable decisions, although he'd picked it specifically because he hoped it would be off the grid. Unlikely to be under watch or close examination. An unlikely place for anyone to go given how dangerous it could be, but even by Lowbridge standards, it was oddly quiet. Mostly, he assumed, people would be indoors at home or at a bar watching the feeds, still reeling from the attack or sharing drinks or comfort with those close to them, or perhaps still awaiting news of missing loved ones. Even lowlifes had people they cared about and a passing interest in the city they lived in.
From his spot under the bridge he had a clear view of both main thoroughfares into the market square and he'd be able to see anyone approaching on foot or by auto. The night had turned brisk - although it was officially morning now - and he shivered. He'd found an abandoned jacket outside a bar he'd passed on his long and winding walk here but he was still barefoot, and in hospital pyjamas. He was aware of how incredibly conspicuous he looked, even without his high-profile. His feet were shredded, and although Harmon Reed had detoxed his hangover and pumped him with various anaesthetics and cell regenerating cocktails - his throat and lungs were still incredibly sore. He'd had to stop to catch his breath over a dozen times, occasionally descending into fits of coughing still. He had mild burns he hadn't noticed before which had now started stinging as the drugs had worn off. He had no possessions, no datapad and no money. He was a wreck and without help, he would never make it out of the city. He needed the Commander.
It would have been easier and quicker to have made his way to Palmetto Lake, and from there hop down the Jade River to the bluffs. He estimated the run would have taken him less than ten minutes but presently, he didn't trust his lungs or his body. Besides, it was more than likely the river would have been the first escape route blocked off by the authorities. They'd have security mesh set up at the river mouth and at varying intervals along its length. Any attempt to hop and the mobile electrified mesh panels would stop him dead in his tracks and leave him twitching and splashing until he was hauled into a law wagon. Any water was a guaranteed capture, but it worked in his favour. He hoped that if the focus was on preventing him exiting the Capital and if it was assumed that he would be unable to do so, then his condo, for the time being, would be a suitable place to flee to.
Truthfully, passing through the watchgates and escaping the Outer Court had been the hardest part, and he'd managed that with almost no complications. He was confident that with the securest part of the city behind him, making it out of the city limits proper would be relatively straightforward. Although it all depended on the Court's assumption that he was actually still within central city limits. The entire point of walling off the Inner and Outer Courts was to make them secure, impenetrable and - perversely - inescapable if needed. There were so many variables outside of his control that it was impossible to formulate any solid escape strategy. Not that he was one for plans and strategy, he was impulse driven. Spontaneous. Always had been. It was a large part of why the military didn't agree with him.
Consequently, he hadn't really had a plan when he'd jumped out of the window, beyond successfully landing. He knew not to aim for the ground. That would have been idiotic and would have resulted in broken bones, and most likely permanent disability. There was only a sliver of ground between the ICU and the Administration building anyway and it would have been more likely he'd smash his face against a wall and slide down in a trail of face gunk and fluids. Instead, he'd made it to the roof of the Admin block and quickly traversed his way as far along the hospital perimeter as he could. He'd had no thought or destination in mind, working on instinct with every step. The bulk of any plan he might have had was simply in assuming that the further he put himself from the scene of his escape, the easier it would be to escape. It was only as he caught sight of the forty foot wall marking the Outer Court limits that his heart sank in a flutter of panic and self loathing. He had no plan. Also he had no pass card and every relevant security person would have known to apprehend him on site. He'd hit a literal wall of complications.
And so he'd backtracked, heading towards the MedVan lot, keeping to the shadows and using the structure of the building to his advantage, and trying not to focus on the woman who'd brought ruin to his life. Polly. That had been her name. It landed in his head with a thud. He shook it off.
His sudden shift in spontaneous plan had been offensively simple, ridiculously clichéd, hilariously optimistic and yet had somehow, miraculously had worked.
Ashe had clambered down from the roof onto one of the six MedVans that were parked, keeping himself as flat as he could against the vehicle’s top and then simply waited. He'd had no way of marking time to know for sure, but it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes of tense, panicked sweating and the fear that he'd be found before three MRO staff had come running towards the vehicle. Seconds after they'd clambered in he was riding through a watchgate to freedom. Leaping off mid-drive had been the hard part, and the most painful. He'd tucked and rolled but the impact of his shredded feet caused a bolt of pain that unbalanced him and he'd crashed to the ground hard enough to split skin in several places. It didn't matter, he was out, up, and running.
Where was the Commander? She'd come, surely. She was a woman of honour, of integrity. She wouldn't let Ashe be executed for a mistake. Would she? That's all it was, a mistake, nothing more. Commander O'Reilly was there, she'd seen what happened. Ashe was innocent. How could he have known what would happen? He'd certainly learned a lesson about keeping his libido in check for sure, but treason? No. Not him. Not ever.
A gust of wind whipped under the bridge, striking him as it did so. It brought with it just the faintest smell of smoke. Or did it? Ashe's nose and lungs had been so full of smoke and fire he imagined he'd be smelling it for quite some time. A foolish thought of course.
He afforded another quick check in each direction, but the thoroughfare remained empty. He'd been so sure that the Commander would come, as her moral fibre wouldn't allow her to abandon a fellow soldier. It went against everything she was. So where was she?
Suddenly, the doubt hit. And hit hard. His face would be on every feed and datapad within the city limits. Probably further. Of course getting out wouldn't be easy - even with the Outer Court behind him. And what if Commander O'Reilly didn't come? The painful truth was, he knew he couldn't do it alone.
He felt his heart rate increase and took a deep breath, trying to steady it.
He could do this. He was Ashe Marvel, beloved athlete and public figure. He had enough acquaintances and contacts and fans that he could easily get out of Parliamentary jurisdiction. He still had his accounts and assets and he'd bribe his way out if he had too. He was fairly certain he could offer far more money than Parliament would if a bounty was put on his head. Although he supposed that depended on how dogged their search would be. No, he'd match it - beat it if need be. If he had to spend his entire fortune to avoid a noose, he'd do it.
They'd hold a trial. They have to. I'd be found innocent. Surely?
The thought of turning himself in flickered through his mind for just an instant. Of course there would be a trial. They lived in a democracy. Yet it wasn't a risk he was willing to take, not with the threat of treason and execution on the table. He knew running was foolish. At best, he was causing an inconvenience and wasting time, at worst, he was admitting guilt.
The doubt was now clawing its way through his body - the sense that he should just give up, cut his losses and put his faith in the legal system kept chipping away at him. It was getting harder to ignore.
He shrugged himself warm and hunched over, keeping the jacket's hood up, ready to find somewhere to hold up for the night if need be when a public-rental cart emerged down the thoroughfare. In the light it looked either black or dark grey but the blue and green AUTO-GO logo was visible even in the dark.
Ashe stood, poised, ready to run if needed. He'd forced his body to push the pain of his shredded feet away and they were now but a distant sensation. The cart drew closer, its lights turned low and its electric motor a gentle hum. Ashe couldn't make out the figure inside but there was only one, which bode well. He took a few steps back, quickly scanning the surrounding area. He couldn't see any other vehicles approaching, or any other people for that matter. But it didn't mean they weren't there. It could be a set up. O'Reilly could have called in the rendezvous point, approached as a friendly, lured him into a sense of calm and trust before leading him into a trap. Ashe's heart raced, suddenly none of it seemed like a good idea at all. He'd never had any reason to believe the Commander was on his side before. Why would that change now? An honourable woman she may be, but not the kind to turn her back on her duty or make herself a criminal. They'd both lost things, found themselves outside the familiar status quo, but that was no basis for a new allied partnership. Ashe suddenly felt remarkably stupid.
The cart came to a halt, engine and lights still running. The door opened, and Commander O'Reilly rose slowly from inside. Even in the dark, Ashe could see her wincing in pain, how much effort it took her to stand.
They looked at each other for a moment that stretched out far too long.
"You're late," Ashe said nervously. Still looking around for any signs of an ambush.
"And yet I came," O'Reilly said coldly.
"Didn't expect you to," Ashe said, growing increasingly nervous. "I appreciate it though."
"I thought about what you said," Commander O'Reilly leaned on the cart's roof, rubbing her chest. "About not letting everything that's happened be for nothing."
Ashe said nothing, he lowered his eyes and found an incredibly interesting spot on the pavement.
"I realised that it's not just about today, or yesterday," O'Reilly continued. "It's about my entire life, my entire career. Giving everything of myself for a greater belief, for the idea of what this city represents for not just us, but all of Lemuria and the next generation of humanity. And yet it's gone. The life I wanted with Kal is gone, the Parliament I serve is in chaos, the city I fight for and its ruling body grew so arrogant that they failed those who fight for them. They threw so many men and women to the wrath of tiders. And for what? For it all to collapse anyway?"
"You sound like you've lost your faith," Ashe said. It seemed dramatic, but he knew then how true it was.
"You could say that," O'Reilly replied matter of factly. "They won't send out battalions and ships in search of one lone woman. Not when there is someone there ready to take the chair. Laying in that bed I had somewhat of a revelation, Marvel."
"Yes?"
"That Parliament will just as easily sacrifice one of their own like they have hundreds of men and women before if it means that they can repair easily and keep their rule. Now, more than ever, with less troops and empty regencies they'll be too busy looking inwards and repairing than looking outwards."
"True enough," Ashe said, relaxing somewhat, but only slightly.
"You were right, they have taken Heiress Suri for a reason. What that is we can't begin to guess, but she does not deserve the fate that awaits her. No one deserves captivity under the hands of tiders."
"True enough," Ashe repeated. He didn't know what else to say.
"And I don't deserve to be kept as a labrat, mourning my beloved as my days of unknown biological horror tick by. That, I fear, is the price for my service."
And you don't deserve to be executed for a mistake, is what Ashe thought was coming next. It didn't.
"Do...you have a plan?" he asked.
"Get out of the city, get to the docks and find a boat. We have very little to go on. I doubt she was kept on the Sunrise for long."
"That sounds like a start, I have somewhere to go first, but it's on route."
"You got good people killed, Marvel. I want you to remember that. We aren't friends. We aren't partners. We aren't comrades. This is a business arrangement. If we find Heiress Suri, you come back with me for trial or execution. If not, I'll drag you back or end you myself. Is that clear?"
"I die by your blade, discreetly and on my terms when we're done. I'm not coming back here."
"Fine," there was no emotion in the Commanders agreement.
"So, I need to make a stop. Is that agreed? We'll need equipment, supplies, weaponry. You think we'll just turn up at the docks and commandeer a boat like this? I'm not stopping for leisure. Get your head in order."
"I'm sorry, Corporal?"
"I'm not a Corporal anymore, and you're not my Commander. We're both AWOL. One of us is wanted for treason, remember? There's no chain of command anymore and from my understanding that means I don't have to follow your orders and I don't have to play nice. You've got my agreement, and I've got your six. And that's it. Is that clear?"
Marina looked at him for a few endless minutes, the wheels in her head turning. Eventually, she opened the cart’s door.
"Get in."
Conversation was almost non-existent on the drive to the bluffs. Aside from Marina asking Ashe for directions to input into the nav system, communication in the cart was kept to a necessary, bare minimum. Ashe had once tentatively risked asking if he could look at Marina's datapad for updates on his APB, but Marina had refused.
Fortunately, his condo was nestled in the southern portion of the bluffs, forgoing the need to cross any of the rivers or bridges on route. They'd taken the South Strip out of the Capital - keeping the Jade River on their right - as it was the nearest highway out of Lowbridge and the quickest route out of the city in an almost straight South-West orientation that would take them almost directly to his doorstep. Aside from a handful of rest-stops and the Jade Overpass there were no settlements or towns along the Strip's length, which meant they were free to drive without any potential obstructions or rerouting. The route was perfect - scenic and, in the dead of night, quiet too.
Ashe passed the hundred and twenty miles staring blankly out the window, watching as the road and countryside passed by in darkness. He tried to sleep, but he was beyond exhausted and hungry and his mind and stomach wouldn't stop reminding him of it. At a steady sixty-five mph the drive was only a few hours and it was enough time to reflect on his choices, his lifestyle, on the decisions he'd made that had led him to this point and made him a fugitive. A criminal. It was an almost instant fall from grace. He imagined his agent and sponsors were already trying to contact him to sever ties although it was more likely they'd already dropped him, terminating any business arrangements and distancing themselves from a client who was perhaps, the current most wanted man in the Capital. Maybe they'd already issued statements or press releases. He dreaded imagining what had been said, but without access to a datapad he had no way of searching, which was probably for the best. He'd access the feeds once they reached his condo, if he had the stomach for it.
It was approaching three after midnight when the curve of the Katoa Bluffs appeared over the horizon, the peaks and ridges gently illuminated by the lights of the Gemini Bridges. A few miles to their right - although not visible in the darkness - the Pearl River flowed to join the Jade, the Fork flowing under the towering structures of the bridges into the vast Opal Ocean beyond, which was visible only as a swatch of black marginally darker than the sky above.
It was nearly an hour later that they passed the bridges themselves. First the Fork Crossing, rising above with its suspension cables lit by the strip lighting along its highway; and then the Abassi Mount with its two defence turrets pointed outwards towards the ocean, watching over the Capital Harbour beyond.
"Wonder if they have those too?" Ashe asked, looking up the two ginormous cannons.
Marina did not respond.
The cart turned left, following the pre-entered instructions and following the new road upwards towards the hills and the several gated community compounds within, mansions and condos owned by the elite and wealthy. Celebrities, politicians and corporate overseers formed most of the bluffs inhabitants and beyond each security gate acres of private land marked their territories. Ashe's anxiety grew with every metre, part of him still expecting Capital forces to be laying in wait behind every bend, ready to spring out and cuff him, forcibly dragging him back to face the music. It had happened before, so he knew the tactics weren't beneath Parliament or the Admiralty.
"Here we are," he said with as much nonchalance he could as the cart approached his security gate. "Home sweet home."
The steel-frame sculpture of a wave-ball surrounded by water sitting between two blocky stone pillars greeted him like the embrace of a long-lost friend. The Capital barracks were required and convenient, but they weren't his home, and could never hope to be. He felt a brief pang of sadness then, of course they would never be. They were gone, obliterated alongside maybe a hundred others - because of him.
He limped around the cart and pressed his palm to the security pad and waited for the familiar thud of the gates unlocking. He breathed a small sigh of relief when they did. If he wasn't locked out or overridden, chances were that no one from the Capital had arrived. Still...someone could be inside waiting to spring a trap. The route of the rented cart could also flag up on Parliamentary systems, so they would have to be quick.
The gates opened smoothly and with nary a squeak, welcoming back their owner. Ashe hopped back into the cart and Marina manually drove them up the winding track. The condo was built into a cliff face, overlooking the harbour and ocean beyond. Only the top level was visible above ground from the track approach, and greeted visitors with an open plan yard with ample parking and abstract sculptures in metal and stone. The sculptures complimented the stone work and foliage of the yard, all designed in an ostentatious and somewhat tasteless display of grand design. The condo itself was ultra modern - all curves and glass and metal. Contradictory to the surrounding yard, but still somehow within a matching aesthetic.
"What do you think?" Ashe asked casually.
"I hate it," Marina said as she brought the cart to a stop.
From within, a stout man, dressed smartly but hurriedly ran to greet them.
"Mister Marvel! Mister Marvel I -"
"Nile!" Ashe said, hobbling over to the man and coughing. He brought him close in a tight hug, cutting the man and off causing him to choke. Nile pulled himself away, flustered.
"Mister Marvel - why didn't you call ahead - the house isn't ready...I.....what is.... I heard what happened at the Capital. Is it true?"
"Marina, this is Nile Goldstein, my butler. Nile, Commander Marina O'Reilly."
Nile took a moment, confused.
"Pleasure," he said finally, extending his hand. Marina took it and nodded.
"I'm glad you’re safe, Ashe," Nile said, dropping the formality somewhat. "Did you really..." he suddenly seemed embarrassed. He composed himself. "What can I do for you?"
"We're just here for a few things, Nile, we won't be staying long."
"Capital will likely send Parliament or Admiralty representatives and we need to be gone before they arrive," Marina said.
"Mister Marvel...." Nile said helplessly. The man was concerned, yet even in the face of everything the media had probably spooled out since the attack, he was still immediately at Ashe's side, ready to help regardless of whatever truth had been fed to him. Ashe loved him for it.
"I tried calling you but -"
"No datapad, Nile. What with the fire and all. Let's head inside," Ashe said. Nile trotted behind him and Marina trailed behind slowly.
In the entrance hall, Ashe immediately headed down towards the living area and bedrooms.
"Can I get you anything, Mister Marvel? We don't have any kitchen staff on site -"
"We'll need any non-perishable food you have," Marina interjected. "And water. In a pack. A first aid kit if you have one too. Anything else of use you can find."
Nile fired a questioning look to Ashe for approval.
"It's fine, Nile," he said with a nod.
"Of course, of course," he said, nodding in return to both of them, then hesitated.
"I saw the news, it's...it's unfathomable, but I'm so glad you've made it out safely. Both of you. The more military we have -" he stopped himself. "But the woman? How much trouble are you in? How bad is it all?"
"I won't lie, Nile, it's not good. Look," Ashe turned to him, and held him steady. He tried to ignore his own panic and anxiety and project some calm onto the loyal man before him.
"I need you to go to the safe, empty it. Everything. Whatever cash is in there -"
"Well, there isn't much -"
"We'll take it all the same."
"I -"
Ashe continued downwards, gesturing to Marina to follow. Nile followed with so many questions on his lips he couldn't manage any of them.
"Whatever you can access from the household accounts, take it. If I could move everything over to you I would, but that'll require ID scans and they can't know I was here. I don't want you implicated. They'll freeze my accounts, so grab as much as you can before they do, if they haven't already."
"Mister Marvel, stop for just a moment -"
"Now, Nile! Food, money. In whichever order they come, I care not."
"As you wish," he hurried through to the kitchen area with a grumble, already tapping away on his datapad.
"There's a bathroom through there if you need to freshen up," Ashe said to Marina. He turned to look at her, examining her.
"Problem, Marvel?" Marina glared at him, holding her ribs and wounded arm. The filth on her clothes couldn't hide the middle-class Capital fashion.
"You look like shit, Commander, but neither of us look like we belong on the water."
"True enough," Marina said, almost managing a smile.
"Head down that hallway, you'll find a closet on the left, I call it my cupboard of unwanted things. Take what you think is appropriate."
"And you?" Marina asked.
Ashe stopped himself from saying weapons and instead said "I'll be there in five minutes."
He headed through to the hosting lounge, its large glass windows looking out towards the dark ocean beyond. He took a moment to take in the room: the lush carpets, the bar, the sink couch built into the floor dip. Beyond the windows was the pool and balcony. He could practically hear the echoes of laughter and revelry resounding through the room. The twinge of sadness took him by surprise. He'd likely never be here again.
Opposite the window was what he wanted. His collection of decorative and decommissioned weapons. All sitting behind a two-inch-thick reinforced glass pane. Only half the pistols were actually decommissioned, the rest were very much active and very much illegal. He pressed his palm to the lock and picked out a long double barrel pistol, its shoulder mount was stashed in the opaque drawer at the cabinets bottom. He tested everything, checked the mechanisms, ammunition, weight and grip. It was good to go.
"Do you have a licence for those?" Marina said from behind him. Ashe turned to find her now clad in a sleeveless work-out shirt and a pair of kevlar padded training trousers.
"Of course not. Hardly matters now, does it," Ashe gestured to the display. "Take your pick. These three are operational."
Marina tested the weight of one of the indicated pistols. Spun it around, mimed a quick draw and roll-load. He shrugged.
"Seems fair."
"Grab some blades and let's get going."
After a bathroom stop - where he disinfected and patched up his torn feet - and a trip to the pile of unwanted things, Ashe returned to the foyer where Marina and Nile were already going over the pack of supplies.
As Ashe approached, Nile revealed the wrapped bundle of cash.
"There was only about six thousand, Mister Marvel. I think the rest went on-"
"Thank you Nile, we don't need to know where the cash went," Ashe took it, avoiding Marina's eyes and flicked through it. He then tossed it into the pack.
"Mister Marvel, what manner of business is this? Armed, supplied. Where are you going?"
"It's best you don't know -" Marina started.
"We're going after Heiress Suri, Nile."
"Heiress..." he gulped slightly. Through disbelief or shock Ashe couldn't tell. "Surely not."
"We're mounting a rescue, how about that?"
"Just the two of you?"
"Yes."
"No Ashe. I won't let you." He stood in front of the huge double doors, his short frame seeming even smaller.
"Nile, please..."
"No. I won't let you. What about your superiors....your...your situation?"
"Our superiors have no idea where we are and we'd like to keep it that way. I'm not sure if you've seen the feeds but I'm in a slight spot of bother."
"Ashe...please...take a moment -" Nile's voice was pleading. The man was obviously wounded and incredibly upset by the sudden and seemingly suicidal departure of his employer. Ashe took him gently, and moved him aside.
"Nile, I want you to listen very carefully. Consider the house yours. I'll be gone for a while. I have no idea when I'll be back, but it won't be anytime soon. You have access to everything you need to take care of things. I'm sure, at some point, when I'm legally declared missing ...or dead...then you and my family can sort everything out between you. Spend, sell, hire, fire, I care not. I trust you."
Nile was crying, and surprisingly, Ashe found he was too.
"You're a good man, Nile. You've been a solid employee and a wonderful friend. And I'm sorry for what I've put you through."
"It was never a bother, Mister Marvel," he said, wiping his eyes. "It's been quite a raucous few years hasn't it?"
He let out a chuckle and Ashe joined in.
"That it has, my friend. That it has."
"Ashe," Marina said, already opening the door. "We need to go. We need to get to the docks before morning work starts."
"Then go and wait in the cart!" Ashe snapped.
"Two minutes," Marina said, grabbing the pack and leaving.
"Ashe...don't do this.....this is monumentally stupid," Nile held Ashe’s hand, pleading.
"I have to," Ashe gave Nile’s hand a squeeze. "I can't risk the law courts, Nile. They think I committed treason. They think I'm responsible for the breach on the Capital just because I bedded some bar strumpet. How could I - how could anyone have known!?"
"But that doesn't mean you have to-"
"Yes it does. If I can return with Heiress Suri, they'll have to grant me pardon. It's the only way I know how to survive."
"But you don't know -"
"Nile, in the next few days, maybe even later today, Parliament or the Admiralty will come here. You need to expunge any evidence of me being here - the cameras, the access gate. You know nothing. Do you understand?"
Nile nodded, his sorrow already turning to anger.
"The most crucial thing, above all else, and I will say this only once."
He drew his blade towards Nile's throat faster than the man could react. Ashe couldn't say what compelled him to do it, only that it seemed the right - no, only way - to emphasise his point.
"We were never here."
He sheathed the blade, leaving Nile a quivering mess. He turned away from his friend, his house, and his life, slamming the door behind him.
He walked away, letting the tears flow.
He never looked back
