(no subject)

[gabriel_tam]

He's planned for this discussion as carefully as he would for any business meeting. It's not entirely inaccurate in comparison: after all, in addition to being husband and wife, Gabriel and Regan Tam are something of a team when it comes to such matters.

And given recent developments, there are certain things of which Regan must now be made aware. This evening is as good a time as any for it; they have no social engagements, nor are there any other obligations or commitments that must be kept.

Save only for the one that he has made to himself-- for a variety of reasons.

Dinner is ending when Gabriel leans back in his chair, picking up his wineglass. "It was an excellent meal, Regan. My compliments to the chef."

Comments

[regan_tam]

Regan smiles back at him, setting down her chopsticks with a quiet clink.

"I thought so too. We must remember to tell Gosja."

[gabriel_tam]

"Certainly." A pause, as he takes a sip of wine. "Are there any plans for this evening?"

There are none that he's aware of, but assumptions can be deadly.

[regan_tam]

"A quiet evening at home."

Regan has a small sip of her own wine, and her eyebrows rise slightly in appreciation.

"This is lovely. I thought I'd take the chance to write a few letters, and work on that outline for the Heritage Preservation committee."

[gabriel_tam]

"It's imported from a small vineyard on -- Persephone, I think. I discovered it on my last trip to Lavinia." The wine is crisp and light, with a note of apple in its flavor.

"A quiet evening." Gabriel smiles, cordial and warm, and there's genuine affection there in addition to everything else. "We've had all too few of those of late."

"As it happens, there's a small matter I'd like to discuss with you, Regan, if you wouldn't mind delaying your work?"

[regan_tam]

Regan looks mildly surprised, but inclines her head with an answering smile. It's a practiced expression -- all of Regan's expressions are practiced, even when she's not actively trying to hide anything -- but real as well.

In the last few weeks, things have begun to smooth over between them, subtly. And Regan is glad.

"Of course."

[gabriel_tam]

"Well then."

Gabriel stands, setting aside his wineglass and offering her his arm with an amused quirk of his lip.

"Wo néng qing ni tiào wu ma...? If you would come with me?"

[regan_tam]

Regan folds her napkin, slanting an amused look up at her husband through her lashes, and stands gracefully to tuck her hand into the crook of his arm.

[gabriel_tam]

He leads her to a reception room, one they've frequently used for social gatherings -- all the informal business of business.

Fashionable and yet comfortable chairs are scattered about in open groupings; small tables are placed at intervals, with stylish arrangements of flowers.

Suŏyŏu de dōu shìdàng. All that's proper.

Gabriel programs music -- nothing too loud, nothing too obtrusive, but something that might confuse an electronic ear, if there were anyone to listen-- and then gestures for Regan to take a seat.

[regan_tam]

She settles down, looking at him expectantly.

This room, this conversation, hovers on the wavering border between business dealings and private life. So do most of their conversations recently; the repair of what has been broken in their marriage is a slow and fragile thing.

The music in the player is what Regan was playing at the last committee luncheon she hosted.

[gabriel_tam]

He doesn't sit, not yet. Gabriel paces across the room, and then back again. It's the only outward sign of what might be nervousness.

What matters, I suppose, is what you do next."

Finally, he takes a seat across from her and leans forward slightly.

"Regan." A pause. "I've been doing some thinking, since the news of the Miranda Plan hit the waves."

"There are some ...unusual opportunities available, I believe."

[regan_tam]

There's a wrinkle between her brows, as she listens.

"Oh?"

She can think of -- of any number of things, and some of them she doesn't quite let herself focus on, and so she waits.

[gabriel_tam]

"Absolutely." Gabriel Tam is often a reserved man in matters of business, but not always. Reserve doesn't necessarily get it done when things come to the sticking point.

And he's not entirely reserved now, as it happens. There's too much at stake here.

"It's a time for change-- directed change, with new hands to guide it. New people to lead."

[regan_tam]

Regan is still, for a moment.

Regan Tam is many things. Stupid has never been one of them.

Slowly, "It's a bold move, Gabriel."

[gabriel_tam]

"There's no question of that." He's up and pacing the floor again, a barely-contained energy clear about him before he pauses and looks at Regan.

"But I think that the chance is there, if one were willing to seize it. To take the risk."

There's an oddly weighted pause before he adds, "And things have to change."

[regan_tam]

Regan is silent, watching him pace, thinking.

"You'd be in the public eye. Our whole family would be."

No doubt he's thought of this, but it must be said. "Your opponents would try to spread scandal across the Cortex."

And they have scandal to be spread.

[gabriel_tam]

"Let them." Something dangerous flashes in his eyes, but then Gabriel comes to sit down across from her once more.

"In fact, I welcome it," he says seriously. "There's a story that needs to be told -- a 'human interest' story, as it were."

"But it's something you need to hear first, Regan. And I'm afraid it's not going to be easy."

He knows better than anyone just how hard it may be.

[regan_tam]

Regan Tam... does not welcome it.

Let their shattered family be protected. Let them hold the fragments of their lives together. Change is needed, yes, but there are others to do it, aren't there?

Don't do this to us, Gabriel she thinks. Simon and River are lost to us -- and, oh, the bitter grief in that still. Don't drag his madness and our grief across the newswaves.

"All right," she says quietly. "I'm listening."

[gabriel_tam]

"Do you remember the letters?"

His voice is low and quiet, so that the music covers it easily, although still loud enough that she can hear him clearly.

It's not really necessary to explain which ones.

[regan_tam]

It's one of her silly games, Regan had said soothingly, when Simon came to them angrily waving River's nonsensical letters. You two are always playing.

A few months after that, Simon was up to his neck in clandestine dealings with unsavory people from anywhere he could manage, chasing his mad hunch.

A few years later, he was gone.

"Of course," she says now, nonplussed. And brittle, but matching his low tone.

Simon, this is paranoid. It's stress.

[gabriel_tam]

Gabriel has always been fond of games of strategy both for amusement and in sharpening business skills-- there's a carefully made chess board, with its carved pieces, in the corner of his office, in fact. Simon had given it to him as a birthday present when he was sixteen.

The difference here is that this is more important than any game could ever be-- and although it's at least partially a strategic move, it will expose everything that he's been hiding for so long now.

He wonders if she will understand. He wonders what he'll do next, if she doesn't.

"They weren't games, Regan." Gabriel's words are still quiet enough to be covered by the music. "They weren't games, and they weren't lies, or tricks."

"The message concealed in them was there, and it was true."

[regan_tam]

Regan is absolutely frozen, staring at him.

"What-- no." She manages to speak, eventually, but she's stammering. "She was --" She swallows. "Gabriel, what are you saying?"

[gabriel_tam]

Gabriel takes both of her hands in his, leaning forward.

"Regan, listen to me. They lied to us-- the same people who were behind the Miranda Plan were behind the Academy, I believe. Just as they experimented on an entire planet with the Pax, they --"

He breaks off, swallowing hard as he forces the language of the medical reports back, away from the surface of his mind. There's no way to make this easy, but there's no need to shatter her with it.

Gabriel is tired of destroying his family.

"--they experimented on our daughter as well, and the other students they took."

[regan_tam]

Regan read the Academy's reports on River -- your daughter is progressing well, extremely gifted student, diligent and eager, succeeding beyond our expectations -- and she was proud and happy.

There were -- the letters to Simon, of course, the silly games that River tired of quickly, but they sparked his hunch that under stress led to mad obsession, led to --

Regan never got any letters from her daughter. They weren't close; she never expected any. Never got any personal letters from dance camp or summer courses either, just postscripts and cheerful waves to the whole family.

Simon's delusion was -- and, and River, Gabriel says River --

She's staring at her husband, shocked white and speechless.

[gabriel_tam]

He's had a while to assimilate this. Years, in a sense-- even before finding himself in an impossible bar at the end of the universe, simply by leaving a party one evening.

"Got scared. Gave up."

He doesn't rush her, instead giving her time to process this revelation. Her hands are still lightly held in his.

[regan_tam]

She's shaking her head -- a tiny movement at first, growing more and more desperate.

For a moment, she looks disconcertingly like her daughter.

"No -- no, it can't be. You've -- You're extrapolating, or -- You've been under stress lately, and now this planning -- I know they haven't, haven't contacted us, but that's -- there's no reason to surmise --"

[gabriel_tam]

"Regan." The single word cuts through her protestations. "I know precisely what I'm talking about, and precisely just how accurate it is."

Here is another turning point, and Gabriel pauses, swiftly weighing her reaction. Still, there's no turning back-- not from this.

"I've seen Simon and River both."

[regan_tam]

She stares at him. Disbelief, fading into a combination of denial and shock and faint, wild hope.

Her hands are trembling faintly in his.

[gabriel_tam]

He tightens his grasp, offering what he can of support.

Gabriel's gaze is intent upon hers. He nods, once, in silent confirmation, and then says quietly,

"They're all right, Regan."

[regan_tam]

"How--"

She bites it off, because even she has no idea how she intended to finish the question.

Regan is fumbling for self-control, and not quite managing it yet.

[gabriel_tam]

"How is ... difficult to explain. Suffice for now that I ended up encountering them in an unexpected location."

"It was -- explained to me then that I was laboring under a misapprehension concerning certain matters."

He lets go of her hands now, before his grip can tighten to the point of hurting her.

"My subsequent research made it clear." Gabriel is not looking at her now; instead, he is examining his hands with some care.

[regan_tam]

Regan swallows.

"You're dodging the question, Gabriel." Her voice is almost steady.

If she can focus on trivialities... if she can... she shies away from focusing too clearly on anything. Numb shock is settling in.

Regan folds her hands. Left curled loosely, right over it, thumbs overlapping. Feels the pressure of her fingers and doesn't let them clench. Every move is deliberate.

If she doesn't, she feels, she may shatter.

[gabriel_tam]

"What question?" The rejoinder is very nearly cool, and somewhat guarded.

Gabriel looks up from his hands to meet her eyes, studying his wife carefully. It was a calculated risk to tell her, but it's just the first of many risks to come in pursuit of this goal. In this case, he's betting that her love for her children, and perhaps for him, will outweigh other considerations.

And yet, he can't quite forget that Regan was the one who turned him in to the Alliance rather than face scandal.

[regan_tam]

Regan presses the fingertips of one hand to her forehead. She takes a deep breath, in and out, and then a second.

Trying to regain control.

Low, and painfully precise, "I don't understand."

[gabriel_tam]

"Neither did I, at first." Gabriel offers her a brief smile. "It was on a business trip, and at the end of a very long day, that I visited an establishment I'd never seen before."

He neglects to mention the precise nature of Milliways, and the exact manner of his arrival there. That's for later, perhaps-- if all goes well.

For now, it's best to stay focused on the point.

"You can imagine my surprise... and theirs."

[regan_tam]

It's been over two years since she saw Simon.

Five since she saw River.

It's a horrifying realization -- she's not entirely sure she can imagine it.

She swallows, and listens silently, and makes herself breath evenly. Slowly.

[gabriel_tam]

"They have friends."

It's a delicate balance, deciding what to say versus what to keep back for the present. It's a very fine line indeed.

He's walked finer ones before.

"They're well." Gabriel hesitates, thinking of his daugher. "Not unwell, at any rate."

"But River--" Another hesitation, this one longer, and Gabriel's voice, although gentle enough, is a little strained as he says, "The effects of the Academy's work are permanent, I'm afraid."

[regan_tam]

"Effects."

Her voice trembles, in spite of all her efforts.

Her hands do not, but the one still raised to her forehead is pressing a tiny half-moon indentation for each fingernail, entirely unnoticed.

She feels ill, caught in a dizzy nightmare. Surely she'll wake up soon.

Surely.

Soon.

[gabriel_tam]

Unnoticed by her, but not by him. Gabriel tenses abruptly. Regan looks so like her daughter sometimes that it hurts, and now he can almost hear River's agitated mutter.

"Twenty needles in her brain - slice her scalp..."

He reaches out quickly and catches her wrist, pulling her hand away from her forehead and keeping hold of it.

"Effects, yes." His voice sounds odd in his own ears, too level and carefully controlled. "There were some."

[regan_tam]

Regan belatedly notices how tightly her fingers were clenching, and lets her husband pull her hand away.

She doesn't let her other hand tighten on the arm of the chair. She keeps control, now.

Everything still. Still as a stone. A childhood litany her mother taught her: I will be a stone, and nothing will touch me, because my center is steady stone. You fall back on these things, sometimes.

She breathes in and out, and her hands do not tremble, and she does not let them clench.

Effects.

Gabriel's voice: Just as they experimented on an entire planet with the Pax, they experimented on our daughter. And she is almost too caught up in her own shock to notice his reaction, but not quite. Not quite.

"What do you mean." Too flat, too thready with stress and horror; she can't make it question instead of demand.

[gabriel_tam]

"They... operated on the students." The words are still even, but his temper is rising-- and in a flash of sudden decision, Gabriel lets it show.

"They lied to us, Regan. Those heishŏudăng liúmáng-- they took our daughter, and I don't know how many other brilliant and beautiful children, and operated on them as if they were animals. As if they had the right to do so-- the same way they developed the Miranda Plan."

There is something of leashed fury about him now, something of cold, righteous rage as he says,

"It is not to be borne. It is not to be tolerated. It's wrong-- and I won't have it, Regan. I won't allow it, not if there's something that I can do about it-- and I can."

"I am going to stop them from doing this again, to anyone."

[regan_tam]

"Gabriel--" She meets his eyes. There's no matching temper in hers; only a sick, lost shock. "What they did to us..."

She doesn't know if she believes it yet. Doesn't know if she can. But he does, and right now for the sake of argument is a starting point, and she is desperately in need of those. Firm ground will come later. Or never, she thinks absently, because right now her whole world has become a whirl that doesn't feel as if it will ever settle into place again.

"They had no grudge. They had no, no reason to --" Except for Simon, except for inquiring too closely, except for anything short of full cooperation with authorities and all this is something Regan will not, cannot examine closely right now.

Low, precisely enunciated, and fraying-taut: "What do you think they'll do if you make these accusations public?"

[gabriel_tam]

It's a sign of just how tense he himself is that he very nearly snaps at her. Instead, Gabriel gets up and paces the room again, forcing himself to consider the question rationally.

From her perspective, it's a reasonable thing to wonder, after all. Perhaps even in general, and he'd better remember that.

"I don't know," he says at last. One hand is clenched tightly on the edge of the mantel over the fireplace, and his back is to her.

"But I think -- I believe, Regan--" He turns around, still gripping the marble as he adds, "I believe that if there's any chance of success, that it has to be done now."

"The entire system heard about the Miranda Plan. Anyone with Cortex access saw the wave, and is still seeing it. If there was ever a time when the balance of power might be swung, when people might be willing to listen-- that time is here."

He hesitates, and his knuckles whiten as he adds, far too calmly, "Besides, it can't be worse than what they'd do to them now if caught, under the cover of secrecy. Trust me, Regan. It can't. The public eye is as much protection as danger in this, I suspect."

[regan_tam]

Later, she will remember the white knuckles, and she will remember the too-even tone, and she will remember the Trust me, Regan. And, in the unspoken depths of the mind where horrible and unavoidable thoughts lurk, she will begin to wonder.

But for now she is still reeling. Her world, their family, shattered long ago, but she held enough of the pieces together with the glue of denial and self-control and memory and blindness to... manage. To keep going. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

That's blown apart, now. Blown to scattering shrapnel.

"Tiān xiăodé," she whispers. "You're going to do it, aren't you? Whatever I say."

It's not accusing; it's not bitter. It's blank but for dawning, bleak comprehension.

[gabriel_tam]

"I've already taken the first steps." Calmly still, yet there are depths to this admission and confirmation in one.

Gabriel crosses the room and takes his seat once more, leaning forward as he speaks now, his voice low and urgent.

"But I want you with me on this, Regan. I need you with me. Don't ask me to do it alone."

[regan_tam]

Regan closes her eyes, one hand rising to press cold fingertips to her temple.

She looks older than she did half an hour ago, grey and lined and tired.

"You always did have that fire," she murmurs, with a brief twitch of what could be a smile but isn't, quite. Too weary and heartsick for that.

"I need to think," she says. Only a fraction louder, and her eyes still closed. "Don't ask me to decide now."

Mirroring his phrasing isn't conscious.

[gabriel_tam]

It's only a momentary slip, that break in the line of his shoulders, the unguarded expression of weary disappointment on his face. It's gone by the time he sits back in his chair, long gone by the time she opens her eyes.

He had hoped-- still, perhaps time will change things. Gabriel tells himself to be fair; Regan has had a terrible shock this evening, one he can well understand.

"Are you a man of faith, Gabriel Tam?"

"All right." His answer is quiet. "We have a little bit yet-- take your time."

A beat and then he adds, "I don't think I need to caution you not to mention this to anyone, Regan-- but be especially careful, please, what you say and to whom, and where." Gabriel's smile is brief and very dry. "Consider us already in the public eye, if you would."

[regan_tam]

Regan nods.

Something to get used to. If this happens... there will be no time, perhaps, when they're not. Even in their own home.

And then she rises, and hurries blindly out of the room, arms wrapping over her stomach and hands clutching her elbows, as if with the pressure of her fingers on her raw-silk sleeves she can hold herself together.

Suddenly, she needs desperately to be alone.

[gabriel_tam]

Gabriel watches her go, and then he buries his face in his hands.

Several long moments pass, during which he remains silent and very still. The light, airy notes of the programmed musical selection continue to play, masking the emptiness left in the wake of Regan's sudden departure.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and straightens, then stands. She needs time-- he'll give it to her. That much he can give. Meanwhile, there's work to be done.

With quick, determined steps, Gabriel Tam leaves the room for his office, shutting off the music as he goes.