Mad Hatter's Dinner Party

This was kind of awkward. Life had just gone from Shawshank to the Madhatter’s Tea Party in a matter of a few hours, or days- Plisken wasn’t really sure of time anymore. Everything was very… surreal. Something the other Dwarfers probably felt as well as the where carted into the stupidly large and luxurious dinning hall that Lindstrom had set up. What was this station? It seemed more like a personal citadel than a prison. Plisken had been the first to arrive, not that he meant to arrive early. He had been escorted in the life harness, a set of heavily armed guards flanking him at all times. He had been seated just so and, after being disconnected from the harness, Plisken’s trained eyes had tracked the perfect sniping positions that were dotted around the perimeter of the high ceiling. He couldn’t be sure that anyone occupied them but Lindstrom was no idiot and it was doubtful that he would let Plisken be in his presence without a guard or six.
Just why Plisken had been ‘allowed’ to leave the harness for this ego feeding dinner party of Lindstrom’s was an ever present question in Plisken’s mind until the topic of conversation around the table had begun. Most likely it was to try and butter Plisken up into telling him one of the many secrets the old man kept locked away in his mind.
The doors to the hall creaked open and the first of the Dwarfers slowly trickled in. They took their seats around the table, especially arranged seats. No doubt Lindstrom had precautions in place should any of the Dwarfers decided to take his life, which many of them probably were thinking about.
Lindstrom entered grandly, his following robes casting harsh shadows against the walls. He was just as he had been back in the old days. Well, ‘old days’ was a confusing term. Behind him, a young girl, Alexis most likely, dressed resplendently in a dark red dress. She had certainly grown up from the last time Plisken had seen her.
Gums wandered over to Plisken, a tray laden with a variety of drinks held in one flat hand.
“Your drink, sir,” said the would-be butler and sat a small tumbler of a dark brown liquid on the table. So the technology here was at least standard: a simple telepathic field was probably draped across the entire penitentiary.
“Thank you, Gums,” said Plisken, remembering the creature’s name from the last time they met, which hadn’t happened yet for him. Time travel was confusing.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. I wanted to ensure that we wouldn't be disturbed," Lindstrom announced as he, his wife, and the odd simulant entered the room, taking their places at the table. "It is nice to see you all, Artie never told me anything so I took it upon myself to keep an eye on you all in the hopes that we would all meet some day," Lindstrom's eyes landed on Plisken. "Especially those of you who I take an...interest in." Plisken felt the weight of Lindstrom’s stare, it was the weight of a merciless man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Or at least that’s what Plisken got. “Now, I take it that the meals were up to spec?" Lindstrom said.
Plisken looked down at his own plate, a fine bone china plate decorated with a blue pattern. In the middle sat an apple. A green apple. Instead of a fork, spoon or knife set up the lined the other’s plates, a switch blade rested on a table cloth next to the plate. Lindstrom was so considerate. Plisken picked up the blade and pushed it easily through the flesh of the apple, juice oozing from the wound. It dripped down onto the white table cloth, a red stain on the purity of dinner. No, a clear stain. A clear stain.
Lindstrom looked with interest at Plisken, his sinister eyes following his every move. “Enjoying your starter?” he asked, a smile spread across his face and a false sweetness filled his voice.
“Quite,” said Plisken simply, strangely glad to be able to talk again.
“Hmm, you always did enjoy apples. Had them especially shipped in from 7th Heaven on Practis every month. It was something your crew always looked forward to.”
“Quite.”
“I’m sorry, but do you two no each other?” asked Artemis, his voice carrying a whiff of moonshine. He waved his fork between Lindstrom and Plisken as he spoke; sending small pieces of… well, whatever Artemis was eating.
“Your glasses, sir,” said Gums and handed Plisken a small set of spectacles.
“Yes, thank you,” Plisken said as he put that glasses on and his vision cleared.
“Well?” asked Artemis.
“The good Commodore and I worked together for a small time, he used my inventions and discoveries in testing grounds.”
“Testing grounds,” spat Plisken, “You mean you had me unwittingly deploy them in inhabited systems. You are the reason the 3rd Rhineland Invasion began, you know.”
“You could have checked your scanners-“
“We did, you sabotaged them.”
“Well, that’s all in the past now, isn’t it.”
“Depends on your perspective.”
Lindstrom gave a small smile and turned to conversation with Artemis, leaving Plisken with a churning feeling that lasted until the Lindstrom cut his lip, which was funny.
Alexis turned to Jaxx and Evelina and began to regale them with a story of their future. The EVO-MAKOs. Now there was a sign that it was getting close. If they where the tribe that needed the pure DNA then they most certainly came from there.
“And we saw you,” said Alexis to Plisken.
“Hmm, I suspect you did.”
“You looked very happy,” she said, a genuine kind smile spreading across her face, “You had children too.”
“Children? As in plural?”
“Yes, two daughters. One was only 16 but the other looked around 21.”
“Huh, I have another kid?”
“Another?” asked Evelina.
“Evelina, I’m in excess of 100 years old. Don’t you think I have at least one child?”
“Or grandchild?” said Alex.
“Or great-grandchild?” said Jay.
“Or great-great-grandchild?” said Artemis.
“Okay! We get it,” Plisken said.
“So what would you call your children?” asked Jade, genuinely interested to know more about their possible futures.
“Well I suspect the 21 year old is Clara, I guess, since she was the only one who hates me enough to track me down. And I guess I would call my new daughter Jane. Yes, Jane is a nice name.”
“So you’ve had a lot of practice being a parent?” asked Jade.
“Well yes,” said Alexis, much to everyone’s surprise, “He brought me up when Dad wasn’t around.”
There was silence. Tense silence. For a long time. Slowly eyes began to swivel around to Plisken, many in surprise and some in shock.
“And when exactly was this, Plisken dear chap?” asked Artemis, stabbing the air with his fork to accent his words.
“You should know, you made me her God-Father. Or whatever the science-y variant you came up with was.”
“No, because I don’t remember you,” said Artemis, “And no, because I made Captain Zelda Decker the Einstein-Father. And I remember that because we always made fun of his name.”
“Dad,” said Alexis slowly, “Take a look at Mr. Plisken.”
“Yes, dear, I know what my friend looks like. He has those stone grey eyes, those concave cheeks and that small scar under his chin. Captain Zelda Decker looked nothing like that. He had stormy gray eyes, drawn in cheeks and a cut on the flesh under his chin. He looked nothing like Plisken.”
Everyone stared at Artemis.
“What?”
They continued to stare.
“… You didn’t think to tell I had met you before?!” Artemis burst out.
“You never asked,” Plisken defended.
“God damn it, Princess. I mean, Plisken. Or should I even call you that?”
“I have had many names and I lived for a very long time. I’m really surprised that you’re surprised.”
“Oh, so you finally figured it out, Artemis?” asked Lindstrom as he took his seat, the blood from his lip cleaned away. “You always were a bit slow.”
“You knew?” Artemis shouted.
“Well yeah, he looks just like Princess.”
“You know, I never liked the name Princess,” said Plisken.
“Why? It was funny.”
“Dad, you should maybe calm down,” soothed Alexis.
“You and me will be having words about what other secrets you’re keeping,” said Artemis as he began to eat his dinner.