Fuko guides Leo out of the capsule and into a truly busy station. It reminds him of a starfish with a hundred arms, all branching out from a central hub. Here, he can clearly see the degree to which Atlantean biotechnology has advanced. The building materials are quite different, and they use chemical rather than electrical power, but the six machines - plane, lever, wedge, wheel, pulley, and screw - are all here.
How do they get their power? On the surface, the Sun powers the hydrologic cycle, which was a key component of the industrial revolution. Down here, it seems like everything relies on turning water pressure into mechanical motion, and harvesting power from deep sea vents via chemosynthesis. The big smokers were more and more common as the capsule rode toward the capitol.
The result is something that doesn’t look anything like a train station, but feels like it. There are living beings going in every direction, trying to catch their ride. There are boards displaying what look like schedules. There are stations where people are being processed.
“People” covers a lot of ground here. The “True Atlanteans” seem to be the squid-like beings, lacking any definable humanoid traits. Leo guesses they belong somewhere in Coleoidea in terms of classification. They move about in wheeled baths, logical since this part of the complex is full of air rather than water. Leo remembers the names of other classes - “the Blood”, “nyth’drn”, and “uh’enah”. Castes? Biological classifications? Perhaps those are the same thing here.
Fuko leads him to what must be a side office, and inside. “We’re to wait here. Answer any questions they give you,” she tells him. The two have of course rehearsed a cover story, but being told this now is also part of the cover.
Two humanoid-squid hybrids, both armed with tridents - security staff, Leo infers - enter, and converse with Fuko in Atlantean. One of them switches to Japanese midway through, and Leo regrets not knowing the language past the barest fragments any anime fan would pick up. He does catch the word for ‘commander’ - taichou.
That individual enters the office, and the two hybrids snap to attention. Leo can immediately sense the charisma of command emanating from this guy. He feels himself tense up, ready for a confrontation, and exhales to release it.
“Shinkai Hafuko. One of our surface agents. Your name on the transfer caught my eye.” He’s speaking English, presumably for Leo’s benefit. The accent is like Fuko’s, the not-quite-Japanese-English-speaker.
“Yes sir. This individual was located by outriders. He has significant skill with machines and mechanics, so he was referred here for placement.”
The commander appraises Leo with those strange squids’ eyes. Leo looks back, unflinching.
“What’s in the suitcase?” the man asks.
Leo knows he’s not supposed to answer any questions, until directly addressed. Fuko speaks up. “A high-tech suit, sir. It has no weapons.”
“Open it, boy,” the commander says, directly to Leo.
He does so. The Link Suit X-18 is folded up inside. The security chief pulls part of it out, examining the components for long minutes. Fuko’s face is like a stone wall. Leo hopes he’s containing his own emotions just as adequately.
“You won’t need this here,” he says at last. “I’ll escort you to processing. Shinkai-san, you’re relieved and may return to your assignment.”
This wasn’t in Fuko’s plan, and her eyes say as much to Leo even if he hadn’t been briefed.
The commander closes the suitcase. Fuko speaks up. “Sir, I can take that to–”
“There’s no need. I will hand it over to security storage myself. Come, human.”
Leo watches Fuko hesitate, then leave. The commander beckons, then leaves the office with the suitcase in one hand.
“I am Cthaiobhalb,” the commander says. “Your surface languages have ill prepared you for our words and names. You may use an alias for me. Address me as Senior Commander Saito. Your name?”
“Leo Snow,” says Leo. Fuko was confident that the particulars of Halcyon’s superhero culture are unknown down here, any more than a typical American could name the current police chief of Paris.
Saito nods as he walks. “Very well. Do you understand what is to happen?”
“I’m to be delivered to someone who can put my talents to use here.”
“That is correct. And during that time, you will be watched. Comply with authority and you will be treated well. Disobey and you will be punished.” Saito holds his head high. “In return your needs will be met and your wants will be honored to a reasonable extent. We are not unfair. Even an emperor who fails our society will face retribution.”
And of course men like you decide when that is, Leo thinks bitterly.
Saito reaches another office, hands over the briefcase to a waiting squid, and is given a receipt. Leo watches his only weapon be placed on a shelf in the booth. Then he and Saito enter another transport capsule.
The ride is short. Saito asks nothing, and Leo volunteers nothing. But he can feel the tension. This man is what Leo expects from any kind of authoritarian regime - a member of the state police. He exists to take and hold control over the population, by any means necessary. Dissidents, lawbreakers, foreign agents - none of them are the real problem. Hope is the true enemy of any man such as this.
This capsule’s next destination is a much smaller building. Saito and Leo disembark, and are met by a True Atlantean - a squid in a wheeled tank. The two Atlanteans converse briefly. Then the tank speaks, via a synthesized voice. Computers? Here? Leo feels surprised. But perhaps this is something else they’ve taken from the surface world. “Hello, Leo Snow. I am Doctor Z P A R–”
The voice stops. “Ah. I am still adjusting to this device. Please call me Doctor Zap. I am a medical expert. You were referred to us as a mechanic. Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.” The voice doesn’t have inflection, but the way the Atlantean’s flesh changes color - the chameleonic ability of the squid - has the same effect. He seems excited. “Do you perhaps have any knowledge of human biology and medicine as well?”
Leo thinks a moment, then holds up his hand, pointing out bones with a finger. “Distal phalange - middle phalange - proximal phalange - metacarpal - trapezoid.”
“Excellent. Excellent.” The voice is deadpan, but the coloration is giddy. “Senior Commander, I will take charge of this individual now.”
Saito nods. “Very well.” He walks away, but Leo knows he’s being watched, even now.
Leo learns that he’s in a complex known as the Surface Science Center. Like other Atlantean buildings he’s visited, it’s a maze of tubes and chambers, some filled with air, others with water. Airlocks and pools provide access between the two regimes. Rooms are labeled with signs in English, Japanese, and other languages, as well as a script Leo infers to be Atlantean.
Doctor Zap leads him through the labyrinth for some time, long enough for Leo to suspect they aren’t going anywhere in particular so much as getting some distance from Saito. Zap finally confirms it.
“I am a member of the Reformist group,” he explains. “I am here to help you. Or rather you are here to help us. However, the Senior Commander has taken a special interest in you. We will have to be careful. I will need you to do legitimate work for us, in addition to your major duty.”
Leo nods. “Fine. So let’s get this over with so I can get outta here.” He pauses. “I mean, not that I don’t like you guys, but y’all don’t seem to like me much.”
“Yes. That is the dilemma facing our society.” Doctor Zap opens a hatch. Leo reads the room name: “Infirmary”.
Inside are several humans, all resting in what look to be the Atlantean equivalent of a hospital bed. Same spongey material to lay on, but they’re surrounded by indicators and biotech, with plenty of room for medical experts to move. Indeed, there are hybrid humanoids checking on some of them.
“Your patient is this way,” Doctor Zap explains. “She is very important to us, for many reasons. She has made crucial breakthroughs in bio-science. She is also a personal favorite of the Emperor, for both that reason and perhaps personal ones. Now we use what she has taught us in an attempt to save her life.”
The pair leave the first part of the infirmary for a set of private suites. There is a Korean woman, anemic and on ventilation, in the bed of the third suite.
“Leo Snow, meet Doctor Ji-a Lee. Doctor Lee, this is the donor.”
The woman’s eyes flutter open. In Leo, a flash of recognition connects what he sees with an all-important memory.
“Ji-a Lee? Of KIOST?”
A flicker of recognition shows in her eyes. She faintly nods her head.
“Doctor Lee, I’m Leonardo. My father is Karl Taitale. I think… I think you might be my biological mother.”