Simple Unicycle
Fetzen
New Atlantis, Atlantis
The sound of knuckles rapping against the door of Sue Storm’s quarters interrupted her concentration. She looked up from the book of Atlantean history she had borrowed from Namor’s personal library to see the figure opening the door. It was Namora – Princess Namora, as she was referred to by her subjects – and from the look on her face she was no more pleased to be speaking to Sue than she ever was.
“The king requests your presence, surface dweller.”
Sue sighed, placed an ornate golden bookmark on the page she was reading, and closed her book. Ever since she had arrived in Atlantis, Sue had been reading all she could about its history and culture. There were tomes Namor kept locked away in his library that predated the Great Deluge. It had taken a while for quarters to be built to her specification but now she had almost settled she found the reading therapeutic. She had left her old life and its many problems behind. Though Namora seemed to enjoy making a point of reminder her she didn’t belong.
“You know, Namora, I don’t expect you to ever like me, but the least you could do is use my actual name from time to time. Which is Susan – or Sue – for what it’s worth. Not that you didn’t know that already.”
“Your presence in New Atlantis defiles our great capital. I do not know what power you have over my cousin, but I do know this – I do not trust you or the ‘advice’ you give him. Your loyalties are to the surface world, not ours.”
They exited Sue’s quarters and made the long way out through the Hallway of Sorrows. It was called as such because it marked the spot where Shalako had been murdered by the Mer-people some nine thousand years ago. Every guard they walked past knelt down on one knee, fist touching the ground and head lowered in reverence at Namora’s presence. That particular detail of Atlantean life was still something Sue was struggling to get to grips with.
“Sometimes you talk about the surface world as if it were another planet.”
In one hard, unforgiving look, Namora made clear to Sue how little she thought of the people living above the waves. “It might as well be.”
Once through the Hallway of Sorrows, they passed through the Great Hall. Sue had never seen anything like it. Every surface was coated in gold. The chairs, the tables, even the immaculately clean knives and forks that lined the tables shone with a light so blinding it could blind. The hall had been home to some of the most dramatic moments in Atlantean history – among them Guy Gardner’s mock-trial the last time a surface-dweller visited Atlantis. Though Sue knew better than to mention that particular incident in Namora’s presence.
“The way I see it, what’s good for Atlantis is good for the surface world. I’m here to help foster peace between our two worlds, Namora. The kind of peace that will keep both of our peoples safe. Surely that’s a good thing?”
“There is an Atlantean saying,” Namora said as she shoved open the hall doors. “Those that want peace must find it at the end of a trident.”
Once through the doors, Namora left them to swing back in Sue’s face without a care. Sue caught the heavy doors in time, having learned to expect such things from the princess, and used all her might to keep them open long enough to slide through and jog after Namora.
Once she’d caught up with the princess she offered her a knowing a smile. “We have a similar saying on the surface world, funnily enough.”
The last leg of the journey the pair made in silence. Climbing the tower to Namor’s study was no easy task, not even for one of Namora’s sturdy Atlantean constitution. It was, of course, designed to be difficult to reach. Though Namor was no great reader he valued his privacy almost more than anyone Sue had ever met. The brash, aggressive man she had met on the deck of the Pegasus had proved to have hidden depths. It was why, despite herself, Sue had agreed to stay in Atlantis far longer than their ‘arrangement’ had required.
A dozen guards stood sentinel outside of the king’s refuge. As was custom, they knelt before Namora and the princess gestured to them to return to their feet. As she reached for the handle to her cousin’s study the door opened and an unfamiliar man stepped through it.
Decked out in black and purple armour, the man offered Namora only a smile. His face was hidden behind a silver cowl with orange lenses covering his eyes and yet Sue could still sense that there something unusual about the man. It was only then that she realised that unlike the others, the man had not knelt.
“Princess.”
Namora nodded nervously and stepped out of the man’s path. He smiled at the princess again, though his eyes showed no indication of warmth or kindness, before sneering dismissively in Sue’s direction. With that the armoured man disappeared down the tower’s stairs, taking four of the guards with him, and Namora gestured to Sue that she should step inside.
As Sue shut the door behind her she noticed for the first time there was worry in Namora’s eyes – and despite the way she had treated her since arriving in Atlantis, she could not help but feel moved by it. She cast the thought from her mind as she turned to greet the king. Namor was sat behind a desk that had large, detailed map of the seven seas strewn across it.
“Welcome, Susan, I trust you find your lodgings satisfactory?”
“Satisfactory doesn’t do them justice,” Sue smiled. “You have been very generous to me, Namor, although I can’t say the same for Namora.”
“The princess has been known to bear grudges. Since Namora's encounter with the one you call Gardner she has developed something of a mistrust for all surface-dwellers. Rest assured that in time she will come to accept your position as my servant just as my other subjects have.”
Sue had two points of contention with Namor’s assertion. Though Namora’s disgust at Sue’s presence in Atlantis was more open than the average Atlanteans, Sue was under no illusions that they felt any differently about the subject. Even a king as powerful as Namor could not compel his subjects to love. The other issue Sue had – which she had addressed several times before – was with the word servant.
“Advisor.”
Namor waved a dismissive hand in her direction as if the distinction was completely meaningless to him. “Yes, yes, as you wish, Susan.”
Sue glanced down at map atop Namor’s desk. There were figurines in battle formations, big swooping arrows indicating troop movements, and in-depth explanations as to varying current levels in different battlezones. Though the Atlanteans possessed holographic technology that far outstripped the surface world’s, Namor was a traditionalist. In fact, from Sue’s reading it was exactly his traditionalism – and his considerable might, of course – that helped him capture the Atlantean throne.
Out of the corner of Sue’s eye she spotted one target on the map that was far away from the others. From what she could make out it was on the northeast coast of the United States, perhaps Maine or even New Brunswick in Canada, and it appeared a single cell had been sent there. When she strained to deduce more, Namor pushed the figures atop the map aside and stepped away from the desk.
“Who was that man you were speaking with?”
“His name is Orm,” Namor explained. “He is one of my most trusted generals. During the Glorious Reclamation, Orm lead the siege at Xebel that helped break the back of the incompetents sitting atop the throne. Atlantis owes him a great debt for bringing that den of iniquity to heel.”
Try as she might, Sue couldn't seem to put the worry she had seen in Namora's eyes out of her mind. “Your cousin seemed afraid of him.”
“She is right to be afraid. There is a madness in Orm’s bloodline. Atlantean children pass horror stories of his exploits at Xebel around to this very day – and with good reason. Orm’s cruelty is single-minded, obsessive almost. He respects no title, courtesy, or tradition. Only strength.”
Namor stood before the window of his study and looked out across it. From it all of New Atlantis could be seen. It was a city twice the size of New York, with a hundred times the life forms, and yet it was only a fraction of Namor’s dominion. It was clear from the way he stared out at his kingdom possessively that he alone possessed the strength to command Orm’s respect.
“He sounds like a dangerous man to keep around.”
A devilish smile crossed the king’s face that put the worst of Sue's worries at ease. “Perhaps, Susan, but only for the enemies of Atlantis.”
Sue wandered over to Namor’s side and joined him staring out at New Atlantis. It was beautiful. Perhaps she got caught up in the beauty or perhaps it had been so long since she had thought of the surface world that when Namor slipped his fingers through hers she did not resist. His hands were rough, but warm, and the gentleness he showed in pulling her towards him surprised Sue. The king was about to plant a kiss on her lips when she regained her senses and pushed him back.
Sue clumsily tried to change subject. “How goes the struggle against Black Manta and the Drowned? I overheard one of the guards talking about the attack on Tlapallan this morning. Apparently there were heavy losses? Perhaps it’s time that you considered the peace proposa-”
“There will be no suing for peace with fanatics that murder innocent people. That terrorist’s head will be mine. His band of followers think they can take refuge among the barbarians at Maarzon? They are wrong. With every day that passes, we learn more about their organisation and its movements. With every day that passes, the net encircles them more. As Poseidon is my witness, Black Manta is not long for this world.”
Namor strode back to his desk and took his seat. His mood had shifted, as it so often did, and it was clear from the way he was scribbling onto some parchment that his appetite for conversation had gone. Sue's excitement had given way to guilt, but now dread had taken its place. As she stared out across New Atlantis, she couldn't help but feel that things in Atlantis were going to get a lot worse before they got better.
