Meliora - Emanate - 39

[lady_mab]

No Kaito

I met with Rhys and Liala at the station in the Southern Quarter of the third district. As far south as the train goes, what with the Thames flooding the rest of the fourth and fifth districts.

We are joined by throngs of other Meliora participants, each group keeping to their own small clusters as we make our way towards what remains of Westminster. Surprisingly enough, Liala is the one who clued me into the solution to this week's little riddle. When she was out with her friends, they spent a good chunk of their afternoon searching up the possible solutions before arriving at the answer: Court of the King's Bench in Westminster Hall.

The moon is half hidden behind thin clouds, enough to help us pick our way through puddles of murky water that encroach upon Eminence. Environmentalists that have been out to study the overflowing river say that it should have stopped by now, or it won't be that much longer until it is finally settled, but it's been years and it’s still oozing along.

The entire walk has been awkward. It's the first time seeing Rhys since our coffee meeting for work, though I have spoken to him over the phone or via text several times leading up to this point.

I've kept as much Meliora related information to group messages so that the twins could intervene. We did our shots for the month of January with the usual split, though Lio and I had a rather stilted silence between us.

While I don't think that Rhys would have told him what happened, I think he knows enough after what our brief talks on the matter.

I'd like to think that I know him well enough to identify the source of Rhys' uncharacteristic curtness. I'd also like to think that I'm self aware enough to realize when I'm being given the cold shoulder because of something that I've done.

So I try not to push him too much during our walk. Lia stands between us, maintaining a stream of chatter to keep the silence at bay. She's undoubtedly as aware of the tension as Lionel, but does a much better job at handling it.

"--And so he figured that it would be best if he worked from home, you know?" she's saying, her voice crackling with the onset of a cold. "He's pulled the data from my visit to the hospital for the shot, and is using it to see what exactly they're supposed to be tracking us for."

At her side, Rhys frowns at the asphalt passing beneath our feet. He's already surrendered his scarf to her, though that does little for the phlegm already in her throat. Hopefully it will keep the bulk of the cold at bay. He refrains from commenting on Lio's choice on how to spend the evening.

The spires of Westminster Hall rise suddenly into view, lit from within by unnaturally bright lights. It's painfully obvious that nothing else is alive for miles around. Eminence lies at least a half hour walk behind us, and the closest city is about an hour away by train to the west and north. South and east is what remains of London under several inches of water.

Crumbling buildings lay scattered around it, but Westminster still manages to remain strong and proud. A symbol of 'British Might' if there ever was one.

"I suppose it's a good a chance as any to figure that out," I say to Lia as we round a collapsed portion of a wall. "They'll be checking to make sure we'll all where we're supposed to be."

She nods, grin widening with each step closer that we get. Apparently her friends are already inside, and she's eager to get away to join them. "I've never been this far south. The ground is a lot more solid than I thought it was going to be."

"Don't pay attention to all those reports that say it's a soggy mess." Rhys has his hands shoved into his pockets as he walks. I can see that the lack of a scarf is starting to get to him.

"Then why did they move the city?"

He shrugs, but the motion is mostly lost in the confines of his sweater. "The Thames did flood, that's true. And it will keep flooding as the ice caps keep melting. Oxford had to move further inland as well, which is why it's now New Oxford. I think they’ve reinforced the land beneath the new city to keep it from sinking. It's a matter of convenience to get away from the fluctuating water levels."

"All the districts of London have been condensed into Eminence. A lot of people left for the mainland, so when ALICE came in they tried to make the city as appealing as possible for those still remaining," I add. "I've been living here for... almost ten years? And the population has grown considerably since then."

"Economies crashing, leaving the European Union, one global political catastrophe after the next. It's been a long few centuries for Britain. The UK as a whole, or what remains of it." Rhys bites the inside of his cheek, and I can see the shadows flicker across his face as we finally reach the blinding lights of the hall. "Unlike the United States back at the start of the SD era, we don't have someone rallying to pull us back together."

Whatever reaction Lia and I might have had is immediately cut off as we step into Westminster Hall. I've only recently seen pictures of it from back when it was still a functioning center of law in London, and those were from hundreds of years ago. Up close and in person, it is breathtaking. The ceilings vault overhead, still maintaining their shape after years of weather and vandals have beat down on it.

I wonder how much ALICE has restored -- either over the years or simply for this meeting. They already had no qualms about destroying parts of the Underground in order to make room for the Halloween event, and apparently quickly repaired the damages a short time after.

Perhaps they came out here earlier today and rebuilt the entire hall. A structure that took years to construct, repaired in only a few hours thanks to ALICE and their helpful technology.

A chorus of delighted squeals and cheers greet us as we enter the hall, and Liala is bombarded by three girls. I can barely get the chance to piece together what is happening before my phone starts ringing.

I pull it out of my back pocket, turning away from the happy chaos and glance at the screen.

It's one of the newbies at the bar. I frown, decline the call, and slide the phone away.

Rhys watches my movement. His glance jumps from my hand up to my face, arching an eyebrow. "Work?"

"I told them not to bother me tonight. There's another manager on duty, and she's perfectly capable of handling anything that happens." I step up next to him now that Liala has moved away, trying to ignore the way his shoulders stiffen at my proximity. "Lia, are these your friends from school?"

"Oh, yes!" I've never seen her so breathlessly happy, even when she was with the other high school kids during the holiday party. "Kaito, Rhys, meet Catalina, Trisha, and Bri."

The three girls introduce themselves, and Trisha spends a very long time on her handshake with Rhys.

"Is it okay if we abscond with Lia?" Bri asks, though the girls have already effectively hemmed in Lia as if to keep her from escaping on her own.

Rhys hesitates a second too long before shrugging. "Will you be alright, Liala?"

She's still grinning and starts to unwind the scarf from around her shoulders. "Yes, I will!"

He reaches out and pushes it back towards her. "Do me a favor and keep it, okay? I'll be fine, and I'd feel better if you stayed warm."

"Okay--" She can't get out much more before the three girls tug her away and they head off across the hall. There's not any place where they can go in particular, but there's a possibility that they might know other kids and not want to hang out with her older brother and his friend.

My phone rings again the moment that she's gone, and a groan escapes me as I tug it free. "Okay, if I get one more call, I'm going to send a very angry text message."

"You should answer it and just tell them you're busy."

"I requested the night off! I hardly ever do that! They should know that I'm busy." I swipe the icon for the call aside, but instead of replacing the phone in my pocket, I hold it in my hand. Partly because I’m sure that it will just ring again in no time, and partly because I can use it as a distraction instead of looking at Rhys.

We stand off to the side, both attempting to avoid conversation. At one point, Rhys takes a breath, hold it in his lungs, and I can feel my heart jump as I watch the words form a sentence in his mind.

But then my phone rings just as he starts to speak, and I almost throw my phone at the ground in frustration. "Answer it," he says, turning away.

"I said I'd send an angry text, so I'm sending an angry text." Get Suzie. She's MOD. She's paid the big bucks so I don't have to be there 24/7.

Another silence starts to tick by. I need to say something. My attempt at the coffee meeting failed spectacularly, because I couldn't stop thinking about the moment we stood side by side at the New Year’s Eve party, before everything went wrong, how it felt like the world only existed in the space between us.

And he's too stubborn to say anything, though the traces of the earlier interrupted thoughts are evident on his face.

When he does speak up, it's not about the kiss, but at least it's a conversation that he's willing to engage in at this rate. "What is Lysander’s girlfriend like?"

Out of all the things to ask… I wonder what brought it on, if he spotted our erstwhile third amigo in the crowd. "I've only talked to her once, and even that wasn't much of an actual conversation. She really doesn't seem like his type, but what do I know." I make a vague gesture that might have once been a shrug in concept.

Lysander never spoke about his type. He always seemed indifferent when I would talk about whatever girl I was seeing at the time, but never like he had any specific tastes of his own.

I thought I knew him well enough to pinpoint what he might like. Someone a bit older than the wide eyed, youthful girl I met. A bit more mature in the same sense that he is: Well traveled and worldly. I can't place just what felt off about Ayn, but I hope that, whatever it is, Lysander is aware of it.

"You don't think it's going to work for them, do you?" Rhys asks suddenly, and I glance over to find that he's been watching me during my thought process.

A sigh works its way out of my lungs and bursts out from between my lips. "Ahhh, hell if I know, Rhys. I'm terrible at maintaining relationships. I've got no words of wisdom for him even if he wanted them."

He hums in response and lifts a hand to fiddle absently with his hair. "He'll end up staying here anyway, and it’s likely she will leave. It's not a very good thing to have in the back of your mind when trying to have a relationship."

I open my mouth, an automatic quip coming to my tongue to remind him that he's the one that's going to be leaving me.

The words die before I can even think to utter them.

Instead, I force out a broken, desperate, "Rhys--" just as my phone starts to ring again.

His expression crumbles with something akin to disappointment, then firms into his usual put-upon frown. "You should answer that."

My thumb automatically moves to mute the call. "Fuck that, Rhys. I want to talk."

"I'm not having this conversation now."

"Then when? You continue to avoid me at every turn and--"

He tosses his hands into the air and shouts in frustration. "Fine! You know what, fine. It's not really your fault, so you shouldn't have to keep trying to apologize."

I take a step back in surprise. It most certainly is my fault. I don't know what kind of game he's playing, or even if we're on the same topic at all. So I shake my head to clear my thoughts and try again. "About the kiss--"

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware that's what you want to talk about." His eyes flash behind his glasses with an anger I'm not used to seeing. "I'm the one that made it awkward, and I'm the one that keeps making it awkward. You shouldn't have to concern yourself with me being all weird about it. It's not your problem."

Tension races through my limbs. I want to throw something -- to fling my arms around and yell. Several people have already turned to give us curious glances. I don't want to fill them in on our personal problems because we're talking too loud. "How is it not my problem? How can I not hold myself responsible for being the one to put you in this position?"

I still don't have the words to explain just why I did it. At the time, it was a compulsion built on thoughts running rampant through my head and my body being unable to control itself. Whatever sort of mental wall that had crumbled on New Year’s Eve was firmly back in place.

I can't verbalize what I feel, but I know that it is better to have the space of safety between us. The familiar comfort where everything was what it was a month ago.

Rhys' hand lifts uncertainly towards his face, failing to find purchase on anything. He turns his gaze away, and I watch a thin flush of red color coat his cheeks and ears. "My feelings for you are my own burden. They were never meant to be an issue to you, and now they are. That is why it’s not your fault. I apologize. "

His apology echoes in my head, slowly clicking into place.

This is all going so wrong.

It is one thing to know that there is the possibility of a crush. Lio himself alluded to it on Christmas, and I've been somehow vaguely aware for some time that something was up.

But to hear him admit it -- to feel forced to admit it because of the situation...

My stomach drops to the ground by my feet and I have no words to use. "Don't," I start to tell him, but then my phone rings again and, this time, I finally allow a frustrated growl to work its way up through my throat. "Fuuuuuuck meeeeeee."

Across from me, face turned away, Rhys shakes his head and a huff of laughter moves his shoulders. "Might as well answer it."

"Might as well answer it," I mimic, expression crumbling in defeat as I finally swipe over the accept button. I'm already talking as I click the phone onto speaker. "I swear to all things holy, this had better be important. Like the bar is burning down important."

On the other end of the line, Taylor makes a small disgruntled noise. "Um, no, but--"

"No buts!"

"Alice--"

This catches my attention. It's the one word that can drain the blood from my face and turn my hands numb. Rhys whirls around, all trace of our earlier argument gone as he stares at me with wide eyes. "Alice what?" I ask.

Taylor stutters and I can hear the distant, muffled sound of music and glass bottles and chatter. "There's some well-dressed suits here wanting to talk to you? I don't know, man. They say they're from Alice, and I don't know if they mean the medical company or if you've started screwing a girl named Alice who happens to be the daughter of a mob boss or something--" His voice trails off into strained laughter. "I don't know which I like better."

"What do they want?" Rhys asks, leaning in close so he can be heard over the speakerphone. Until this last month, Rhys has been around often enough, and his Irish accent sets him apart enough that my employees can likely recognize his voice.

"I don't know. They just wanted to talk to you, Kaito, and when I said you were off for the evening, they told me to call. What should I tell them?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exchanging a confused glance with Rhys as I do so. I click the mute button on the screen, but drop my voice so only he can hear me anyway. "What would they possibly want?"

"There's no reason why they should be there right now," he agrees. "You're here, after all. Did they expect you to not get it?"

Strictly speaking, I did have help from Liala's friends with figuring out the clue. But that was neither here nor there, because, in the end, we made it to Westminster Hall.

I take the phone off mute and plaster a fake smile in place. I want them to be able to feel the sarcasm through the words. "Tell them I'm at Alice's place right now if they want to talk. And if they did their jobs right, they would know I was here."

Taylor's strained laughter echoes through the phone. "Sorry, I just put it on speaker so they could hear it and they're giving me the dirtiest looks right now."

"Well, good, because they're dumb as fucking bricks and should feel like idiots." I force out a sigh in an attempt to calm down, but it doesn't work. "They're going to have to take a number and call me back. Offer them a drink on the house or something."

"Yeah... Yeah. Sorry for having to keep calling you. They insisted."

"I'm sorry too, man. You could have told me in a text and I would have answered sooner." My free hand lifts to ruffle through my hair. "Now have them get the fuck out of my bar because I'm going to bill them for any hit in sales I take due to their presence."

"I'm not repeating that."

"Put it back on speaker and I'll just say it again."

At my side, Rhys pins me with a glare, but not even that is enough to detract from his amused smirk. "Don't do that," he tells the phone. "Just let us know if anything happens."

I arch an eyebrow at his response. If Taylor notices anything odd about the 'us' coming from Rhys, he doesn't say anything. Perhaps he accepts that, with Rhys as Temple Fusion's accountant, it would be obvious that he might wish to involve himself with anything that would put a dent is our daily totals. Instead, he replies with, "Will do."

We hang up at the same time. And then my fingers curl around the device in my palm and I'm about ready to yell something rather loud and rather profane at nothing in particular when it glows back to life with an incoming text.

At first, I think it's Taylor. That suddenly, mere nanoseconds after hanging up with me, something happened beyond his control.

But it isn't. It's an unknown number.

It takes a moment too long for my brain to process the fact that Rhys is pulling out his phone as well.

And, a beat later, I notice everyone else looking at their mobiles.

Everyone around us is opening the message. Just like the time when they announced the random check ins by ALICE agents. Only now they have us clustered together in one place, and the message is from an unknown number.

My eyes jump to Rhys without even pausing to read the text. He turns paler by the second, and when he finally jerks into motion, his movement is stilted and robotic. "Liala--"

"Stop--" I reach out without thinking, grabbing onto his forearm. "She's fine. She's with her friends. Don't draw attention to yourself."

He struggles -- for breath, against my grip, with his emotions and his first instinct being to rush to his sister's side. But she's not supposed to be his sister. Not here.

Not that I'm entirely certain it even matters anymore.

His hazel eyes travel the length of my arm, from where I grip his, up my shoulder, finally meeting my face. "You don't think this is weird? ALICE arriving at Temple Fusion, then this message?"

"Of course it's weird," I admit, gripping my short hair and tugging it in an attempt to clear my thoughts. It doesn't work. "Yeah, it's really weird, but we've got to remain calm. ALICE might be one step ahead of us, but we have to be on our toes."

I hate that now I'm acting like the voice of reason when I'm so used to it being him. Five years, and he has always been the one to talk sense into me.

But lately, I've been the one taking that responsibility on. I hate watching this game ruin him, sending his anxiety to new levels and screwing with his connection to his siblings.

I'm not a mature adult by any stretch, and so I have no one else to turn to when I can't turn to Rhys. There's Lysander, of course, but lately I've been feeling him drift away from us too.

On the far end of the hall, a woman appears bright and clear on a stage that I hadn't even noticed. I can't make out any details from this far away, but the crowd becomes a mess of petrified silence and shouts of outrage. "Participants of Meliora, my apologies," she says. Her hands lift, trying to placate us. "We at ALICE had nothing to do with that message..."

Her voice continues on over the anger of the crowd, but my attention is drawn to the man at my side as he almost doubles over.

Softly, barely audible beneath the general chaos, Rhys groans as he hunches his shoulders up to his ears and presses his fist against his forehead. "I want to go home," he mutters, and it takes me a heartbeat too long to realize that he means back to Ireland. Away from here, away from ALICE, away from everything that has been slowly tearing him apart.