Black Marion

30

They told him his daughter had been arrested for treason in June, and then detained him at the upper security stations for six weeks. In August, Eugene Myeong was unexpectedly released for having no plausible involvement with Alex's traitorous affairs, though his reputation was in tatters from an unexplained, month-long absence. He returned to the free world hearing no news circulation of Alex's crimes, not even a whisper at his workplace. It seemed that the Sky had suppressed the truth, even from Eugene, who was told nothing about the details of his daughter's transgressions.

But he knew.

He knew his daughter was special from the moment their eyes first met, a babble of noise gurgling from her mouth as her little fingers flailed in the air. He knew that girl had grown a matchless mind, one which could make possible the impossible. And he knew, ten years ago, in the hospital room, that when Alex cried and pleaded for the Grounder in the cells, it was because she'd fallen in love.

So he didn't believe it at first, because it meant that his own ignorance had stripped his daughter of a safety net all this time, but when they started questioning him about his relation with the Ground and the aftermath of his wife's passing, he knew. Alex had done something for which she could not be pardoned. For which she would be tortured, and then executed.

On August 4th, he donned a hooded jacket and went to Will Demari's one-man home. His old friend took one look at him, and then ushered him quickly inside.

"I need your help," said Eugene, as soon as the door had closed.

Will stepped back, exhaling. "I'll pour you some tea."

"Will!"

The man had already retreated inside. Eugene followed him until they reached the kitchen, where the CyberSec director filled a pot with fresh water.

"Will," he said again, "they're going to kill my daughter."

"No, they're not."

"I need—"

"I've already done everything I can," said Will, turning to face Eugene. His eyes were hard—same look as from their college days, when they had fought over Clara Davis for the first time. "They wanted to rehabilitate you, you know. You wouldn't even remember Alex right now if I hadn't pulled all my cards."

Eugene fell quiet, not quite understanding what Will was talking about.

"I...thank you. But my daughter..."

Will shook his head, an unsteady exhale escaping his lips before he replied in a quiet voice. "She's out of my hands, Gene. She's done too much. There's nothing I can do." A pause. "If it's any consolation, they won't kill her. She's too valuable. Our best hope is that she talks soon. They might try to hand her over the the DHS, but I think Scio might—"

"Fuck that bastard."

"I know. But he wants Alex alive, and he's your best hand in the game right now."

"No. No, I'm not going to sit by while my daughter is being—being tortured. And then let her—what? Let them enslave her like some machine? Let that fucked up bastard turn her into a—a—"

"There's nothing else we can do! Okay?"

Their voices were escalated now.

"How can you say that? She's my daughter! She's her daughter! Clara would never—"

"Clara is dead!"

Silence.

Eugene stumbled back, bracing a hand on the counter for stability. He searched for words, anything to convince his friend. "I know...I know we've drifted apart since the marriage. But I...I wanted to name her Angeline, you know. After my mother."