Chapter 72

PRESSURE POINTS

Augustus stood in the reception area, watching Paul rise from behind his crescent desk of polished black stone. The Truthseeker’s measured gaze took in his appearance with the same weight as always, but there was something else there. A flicker of recognition, perhaps. Or concern.

“Mr. Greaves,” Paul said, voice carrying that subtle pressure against the mind. “The Queen is expecting you.”

Augustus had called ahead this time, a courtesy that had gotten him an immediate appointment. The urgency in his voice must have carried through, because Paul didn’t ask his usual question about intent to harm. The armored guards simply pushed open the far doors.

The warmth of the Queen’s office greeted him. The crimson-threaded carpet, the walls lined with leather-bound tomes and alien artifacts, the vast viewport showing Earth hanging in space. She stood with her back to him, silhouetted against the stars, wearing a gown of deep burgundy that seemed to drink the light.

“Augustus,” she said without turning. “I was wondering which of you would come to me.”

He stopped halfway across the room. “You’ve seen Gabriel’s announcement.”

“I saw your Mr. Rooke almost get ambushed on my station this morning. Quite the theatrical confrontation, though I appreciate his restraint in not killing anyone.” She turned then, and he caught the calculation in her eyes before warmth replaced it. “Five million credits per head. Ten for him specifically. And an entire continent for whoever returns Santiago’s ‘stolen materials.’ Quite the escalation from yesterday’s mere hundreds of thousands. Though I suppose this is a private bounty, and not part of the System.”

She moved to her desk with that choreographed grace, gesturing to the chairs. “I must admit, I expected him to come himself. Alexander strikes me as the type to handle negotiations directly. But perhaps that’s why he sent you instead. He knows I find you far more... agreeable.”

Augustus settled into the leather, maintaining his composure despite the rush that had brought him here. She poured wine without asking, sliding a glass across the dark wood.

“I assume you need immediate relocation,” she said, settling back with her own glass. “Somewhere even the most ambitious bounty hunters won’t reach.”

“Yes. And we’ll need passage for thirteen. Eight of them are...” He paused, choosing his words. “Unusual.”

Her eyebrow arched. “The diplomatic observers Gabriel mentioned? How fascinating.” She took a sip of wine. “You know I’ll need more than that, darling. If I’m harboring fugitives from what’s being portrayed as an interstellar incident, I need to understand the risks.”

Augustus met her gaze steadily. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything.” She leaned forward slightly. “But let’s start with why Gabriel Santiago is offering a continent on his utopian pet project for their return.”

This was the gambit. They needed her help, but revealing the truth about the aliens gave her incredible leverage. Augustus took a breath, then made the call.

“They’re not diplomatic observers. They’re victims of Santiago Systems experiments. Tortured. Experimented on.” He watched her reaction carefully. “And they’ve all developed access to the System.”

The wine glass stopped halfway to her lips. For the first time since he’d met her, the Queen of Hearts looked genuinely surprised.

“Aliens with powers,” she said slowly. “The Council’s greatest fear made manifest.” A smile spread across her face, not calculated but delighted. “Oh, Augustus. You’ve brought me something wonderful.”

She set down her glass and rose, moving around the desk to sit on its edge, closer to him. “Do you understand what this means? The implications?”

“They don't all have powers, but we have some idea.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Her eyes sparkled with an excitement he’d never seen before. “The Galactic Council has been terrified of humanity’s ‘infection’ spreading. They’ve pressured us, restricted us, all while pretending it’s for our own development. But if other species can manifest powers...” She laughed, soft and genuine. “Everything changes.”

Augustus shifted slightly. “Which is why we can’t let them be discovered. Not yet.”

“Of course not.” She studied him, and he felt that familiar weight of her full attention. “You need them hidden until the revelation can be controlled. Used to maximum advantage.”

“We need them safe,” Augustus corrected. “They’re not weapons.”

“Everything is a weapon, darling. It’s just a matter of application.” She reached out, fingers brushing his hand where it rested on the chair arm. “But I understand your perspective. They’re under your protection. I have no interest in interfering in Grimnir’s game.”

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Her eyes grew distant for a moment. “Besides, Benny painted something about this, before the end. Eight lights falling from the stars, seeking sanctuary in the shadow of a great machine. I didn’t understand it then.” She focused on him again, smiling knowingly. “But prophets rarely make sense until after their visions unfold.”

The touch was brief but electric. Augustus didn’t pull away.

“I have an island,” she continued, not moving back. “Private, with some interesting modifications from its previous owner. Already has doorway access to the station. The previous owner defaulted on a debt, so it became mine with no one the wiser.” She shrugged elegantly. “It burns money just sitting empty, and it’s not as though I vacation much these days. It could be yours.”

“For what price?”

“Well, that depends.” Her smile turned playful. “I could sell it to you for only seventy-five million credits, quite reasonable for a private island with all the amenities.”

Augustus kept his expression neutral despite the staggering sum.

“Or,” she continued, “you could rent it. Say, three hundred thousand a month? With an option to buy later if it suits your needs.”

He recognized the hook immediately. Ongoing obligation. Continued connection. “That’s generous.”

“Is it?” She tilted her head. “You’re in desperate need, darling. Star Titan is hunting you. Every bounty hunter in the system is mobilizing. You need immediate evacuation and total secrecy.” Her fingers traced the desk’s wood grain. “I could ask for much more.”

“What else do you want?”

“Direct communication with your alien guests, when they’re ready. Through you, of course. I want to understand what they’ve experienced. What they can do.” She paused. “And I want Grimnir to remember who helped them when they had nowhere else to turn.”

Augustus considered. It was manipulation, but elegant. Fair, even, given what she was offering. “I should discuss it with the others.”

“Of course. But Augustus?” She leaned closer, wine and expensive perfume mixing in the air between them. “You don’t have much time. My sources say Star Titan has already begun mobilizing Santiago’s resources. Whatever pressure points they need to find you are likely already being exploited.”

The words hit him like ice water. The estate’s ownership was hidden behind layers of shell companies, the same system his old unit used to protect their civilian assets. He already knew it was a real possibility that one of them might give in to temptation, even though only a handful of people knew the truth, all former military, all sworn to secrecy—

His father.

Augustus felt the blood drain from his face. Not through the shell companies, but through him directly. Anyone digging deep enough into Augustus Greaves, the identity he’d taken when he joined the unit, would eventually find the connection to his real name, to his father.

The Queen’s expression shifted, calculation replaced by genuine concern. “What is it?”

“I need someone picked up. In Argentum. Immediately.”

She already had the familiar faraway look of someone activating their comms. “Who?”

“My father. He runs a tailor shop on Burgundy Street, near the old theater district.” Augustus’s voice stayed steady despite the climbing panic. “Tell whoever you send to say that little Gus sent them. He won’t leave otherwise, stubborn old goat.”

The Queen held up a hand for silence, showing she was opening a comms request with someone. Then she spoke rapidly to whoever was on the other end. “Priority extraction. Burgundy Street, Argentum. Tailor shop near the old theaters. Elderly man. Tell him ‘little Gus’ sent you and the situation is serious. Portal directly to safe house seven.”

She listened for a moment, then nodded. “En route now. Eight minutes.”

Augustus exhaled. “I’ll cover any additional—”

She waved dismissively. “Please. I’m a supervillain, not some two-bit thug. I don’t leverage family members against business associates.” Her eyes met his. “Your father will be safe.”

“Thank you. The island,” Augustus said, needing to move past the moment. “Does it have medical facilities? Our guests are still recovering.”

“Fully equipped. The previous owner was quite paranoid about future biological warfare.” She smiled, composure returning. “I can also provide a superpowered healer, if needed. Discrete, naturally.”

“Naturally.” Augustus stood, and she rose with him, maintaining that close distance. “Three hundred thousand a month, with option to purchase. Portal access immediately. Medical support if needed. And you get to communicate with our guests through me.”

“Such a quick negotiation.” Her hand touched his chest, straightening his tie. “I do so enjoy a man who can make decisions under pressure.”

“Under different circumstances...” Augustus let the words trail off, meeting her eyes.

“No,” she agreed, not stepping back. “But we always have time for courtesy.” She finally moved away, returning to her seat. “The Doorman will arrive at your estate in two hours. Be ready to move immediately. Everything you need will be waiting.”

Augustus turned to leave, then paused. “Why help us? Really?”

She smiled, that perfect blend of warmth and calculation. “Because you’re interesting, Augustus. Grimnir is doing something different. Building something new. And...” She picked up her wine glass again. “I find myself unexpectedly invested in your success.”

“Invested.”

“Don’t read too much into it, darling. I’m always invested in my assets.” But her eyes said something else entirely. “Two hours. Don’t be late.”

“Oh, and Augustus?” she called out, amusement coloring her voice. “Little Gus? How adorable.”

He paused at the door but didn’t turn around, though she undoubtedly caught the slight tensing in his shoulders.

“Two hours,” he repeated, and left without another word, though he felt her delighted gaze follow him all the way out the door. Paul nodded as he passed, and the guards remained still as statues.

Only when he reached the plaza did Augustus allow himself a deep breath. Three hundred thousand a month was steep, but manageable with their recent windfall. The Queen had been generous, considering their desperation.

But he knew better than to mistake her interest for kindness. She saw opportunity in their crisis. In the aliens. In Grimnir, perhaps.

Two hours to pack everything and everyone. Two hours before they escaped Santiago’s reach entirely.

He headed for his designated doorway, already composing what he’d tell the others. The deal was struck. Now they just had to survive long enough to benefit from it.