Peeking out into the hallway, she discovered more of the same. Loveseats, ottomans, coffee tables, and so forth wafting hither and thither. Even as she watched, a wicker footstool shoved its way rudely past her, without so much as a pardon me.

“Hey!” she complained, but it didn’t pay her much mind. The stool continued on its way until disappearing into one of the Baxter’s Buildings’ half-dozen guestrooms. She decided to follow.

Within, Yoshi discovered even more gravity-free furnishings, including the guest bed, which bobbed along on the ceiling like a chunk of driftwood at sea. In the center of the chaos, stood her employer, Mrs. Susan Storm-Richards, the Invisible Woman. She was humming happily.

“Good afternoon, Yoshi.” She gestured with her hand and one of the floating paintings carefully hung itself on a nail. “Just doing a little rearrangement.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Richards,” Yoshi said with just a hint of relief. At least, she told herself, the furniture wasn’t haunted. Around here even that small a comfort was good news.

“Susan, please. Or Sue.”

“Alright,” she said, not for the first time. No matter how her employer insisted, Yoshi found it very hard to call the world famous Susan Richards anything other then missus. Ambassadors and celebrities were one thing, but the Invisible Woman? A whole other league.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Well,” Susan said, “actually, you c-”

A crash from the opposite room interrupted her employer mid-sentence. It had not, Yoshi thought, sounded promising. The expression on Susan’s face seemed in agreement.

“I guess we better go find out what that was, hmmm?”

Yoshi nodded and, with furniture still levitating eerily through the room, the two of them walked one door down to the living room. Inside Ben and Johnny--the teammates and seemingly permanent houseguests of the Richards--were standing in front of the couch, gazing down at the remains of a broken lamp.

Upon sight of Susan, Ben pointed a thick stone finger at Johnny. “He did it.”

“Yeah. Right. Cause I’m the big clumsy ape with the ten ton body.”

Ben took a playful swipe at him and Johnny neatly side-stepped it. “Slow,” he chided with a lop-sided grin, “so slow.”

“Okay, you two,” Susan said, hands on her hips. “Enough horse-playing. I’ve hardly had the chance to unpack and already you’re destroying my house?” She didn’t, Yoshi thought, really sound that angry though.

“I can pick it up.”

“Thank you, dear,” she said, “but I think the boys can clean up their own messes.”

“Hear that? Boss says to clean up yer mess, brat.”

Johnny rolled his eyes and, grabbing one of the magazines off the coffee table, scooped up some of the lamp’s clay shards. “Which reminds me,” he said, “why does Sue always get to be in charge when Reed’s gone? I’ve been on the team just as long as she has.”

He looked towards his sister, as though expecting an answer, but she never had the chance to reply. The familiar warble of the main computer’s warning alarm had suddenly come over the intercom.

Emergency message for the Fantastic Four. Emergency message for the Fantastic Four.

Susan was already out the door as Johnny walked over to Yoshi, handing her the rolled up magazine and lampshade with a playful wink. He then followed his teammates into the hall.

“You the team leader,” Ben was chuckling as they left. “Haw, that’s rich.”

Four hours later, the Fantasti-sub was gliding towards the domed city of Atlantis. As always the team was struck by the strange, otherworldly beauty of the sea kingdom.

Within the transparent shield that surrounded Atlantis like an up-turned punch bowl, hundreds of beautiful coral spires competed with blue marble ionic columns and Parthenon-style architecture for the eyes’ attention. Amidst this archaic scene swam a parade of domesticated sea animals--messenger dolphins with the colorful trappings of the Atlantean guilds, giant riding sea-horses and porpoises, and whales carrying vast loads like pack mules.

It was an amazing sight even for the Fantastic Four, no strangers to other worlds, galaxies, and dimensions. Nevertheless, Johnny looked disappointed.

“So what’s the emergency? Looks like business at usual at Sea World.”

Sue shrugged. “The details in the message were fairly scant. All it said is that the royal palace was under siege and the Atlanteans were requesting our help.”

“Funny how old turnip head always needs our help,” Ben grunted, “but we never see hide or hair of him when our bacon’s in the fryer.”

“We don’t know if Namor’s the one who called us.”

“Ah, c’mon sis,” Johnny said. “People don’t sneeze in Atlantis without a royal pardon first.”
Sue could see they were itching to argue so she simply smiled and let it pass. It was funny to her how little things changed. Although Namor and the Atlanteans had been their allies for years now, Ben and Johnny--even Reed--had never entirely forgiven them for the old days. They still seemed to think that any moment the tables might turn again.

Maybe that was reasonable, she thought, given their history. For her part, Sue had never hated Namor and doubted she ever could. He did what he thought was best for Atlantis, even if it didn’t always earn him the surface world’s acclaim.

As the mini-sub drew closer to the city, a brace of shark-riders rode out to greet them and their headlights glinted off the Atlanteans’ green and silver armor. With a motion from the leader, they were guided towards an open docking tube made specifically for surface dwellers. These were the only spots in Atlantis, outside the palace, that weren’t filled with sea water and enough pressure to crush the average human body.

They waited until the seal was established and the oxygen levels stabilized, before popping the hatch and entering the tube. It was made of a fibrous, plastic-like structure that proved surprisingly sturdy under their feet. It led them to a small ante-chamber decorated with a simple stone bench and a brace of flags hanging over the doorway.

The flags, Sue noted, looked different then the royal purple ones she was used to. The woman waiting to greet them, however, was as stunning ever.

“So what’s up, Nita?” asked Johnny. “Another sea monkey infestation or something like that?”

Namorita smiled and bowed slightly to her friends in the Atlantean fashion. Unlike her cousin Namor, she had the blue skin and dark hair of an Atlantean woman.

“It is good to see all of you. I’m glad you were able to respond so quickly.”

Sue smiled and exchanged a friendly hug with her friend. “There’s always time for those we care about. I must admit though, we are surprised to see you here. I’d heard you were working with Force Works now.”

“That much is true. When my people asked my aid though, I was honor-bound to respond.”

Sue nodded. The Atlanteans put great stock in personal responsibility and honor, which made it all the more odd they would approach outsiders for help.

“I notice your husband is absent. I hope he is doing well?”

“He’s fine, thank you. Unfortunately, other duties have called him away from Earth* right now or he’d be here with us.”

* (M2K Fantastic Four v2 #2-3 - Al)

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Namorita responded with a frown. “I fear we could have used his expertise.”

“Ah, don’t ya worry cutie, we can get along without Stretch. Just point us towards whatever giant octopus or evil starfish is botherin’ ya and we’ll take of it.”

“I’m afraid it’s not so simple as that, Mr. Grimm. As I mentioned in my message, the palace is indeed under siege, but not by our enemies.”

Johnny smirked and made a face, like she’d just said something crazy. “Then who? Jehovah’s Witnesses?

“Our own people. They have surrounded the palace and my cousin, Prince Namor, has barricaded himself inside.”

Sue frowned and crossed her arms. It was her turn to look confused. “I don’t understand. The Atlanteans worship Namor. Why would they do this?”

“You have been away for some time, Susan. The Atlantean people are changing in many ways, positive ones on the whole I believe. A reform movement has recently come into vogue and one of their main goals has been to establish a Democratic Republic like the surface dwellers dote on.”

“And in order to create a democracy,” Sue mused, “they have to be rid of the monarchy?”

“Exactly. The movement, however, has been largely peaceful. Its leaders told my cousin he could keep his title once the elections were held, but the majority of state decisions would be made by the new representative council.” Namorita sighed, casting her eyes sadly towards the floor. “But you know stubborn he can be. Rather then give in, he’s locked himself inside the palace and now protesters are surrounding the gates. There’s been no violence yet but…”

Sue nodded. As in all such things, bloodshed was only a matter of time unless the tension was diffused. Unfortunately, the particulars made that even trickier then it seemed. Namor was noble, heroic, kind-hearted and many other fine qualities, but he was also the most pig-headed man Sue had ever met. Once backed into such a corner, there was no chance he was going to stand down on his own.

“We’ll do what we can, Nita. Will he be willing to talk to us?”

“No one has been granted entry for the last week,” she said, “but I have a feeling he may make an exception for you and your friends, Susan.”

She smiled grimly.

“Then take us to the palace.”

Sue Richards had never been a history buff but she understood the principle of a moat. During the feudal period of Europe, princes and lords surrounded their castles with deep trenches and lakes in order to make it more difficult for invading armies to overrun the walls. The idea was the same here.

Except, in Atlantis, trenches and water meant nothing to an attacker. Instead, the Atlanteans had built a series of airtight bubbles around the royal palace. If an invading army attempted to storm it, they had to pass through these areas, which could be drained of water in a matter of seconds by massive underground pumps. Since Atlanteans could only breath underwater, these air bubbles could be deadly to attacking troops.

Naturally, these defenses could be circumvented by a determined enemy. All defenses can. In the case of the Fantastic Four, that was unnecessary. Being surface dwellers, they were able to pass through them in relative comfort.

“In my book,” Ben was saying as they strode across a pink coral bridge, “it’s about time. Where’s finhead get off prancing around like he’s little lord Fauntleroy? ‘Bout time the Atlanteans wised up.”

“He’s been good leader.”

“Yeah, well, Mussolini made the trains run on time, right? Doesn’t make it right.”

Sue rolled her eyes. If there ever was less apt comparison between two men, she could hardly think of it.

“Ole rockhead’s got a point. Slapping around tyrants is sort of under our job description, right? Doom, Annihilus, Mole Geek, you know the type.”

“You mean like Black Panther and Blackbolt? That sort?”

“Ah,” Ben grunted dismissively, taking his usual tack when the argument outpaced him. “Them guys is different. You’re just making excuses.”

As the trio passed through a final archway--its columns carved in a flattering replica of the prince himself--they could spy the ramparts of the palace. As soon as the guards spotted them from the wall, there was a flurry of action as loyalists manned the battle stations.

Nevertheless, when they reached the entrance, the massive doors swung open and the drawbridge lowered. A group of twenty Atlantean soldiers came out to meet them, their heads covered in the bulky gear they needed to breath out-of-water.

The lead soldier bowed coldly and motioned them inside. Susan returned his gesture while her teammates sized him up impatiently.

“Just let me do the talking, alright guys?”

“Sure, Suzie, sure” Ben said, flexing his fingers as they entered the palace. “You do the talkin’, I’ll do the clobberin’...”

Just pray, she told herself, it doesn’t come to that…

They were met in the antechamber by a stooped old man in thick burgundy robes. He introduced himself as the court seneschal and he had come to meet them personally on behalf of Prince Namor. Despite the courtly greeting though, Susan could feel the coldness of their reception. Their armed escort remained within sight, ready it seemed to leap forward and cut them down at the slightest infraction.

“Welcome surface dwellers…”

Susan bowed respectfully to the old man and he nodded his head perfunctorily. His eyes, rheumy and tucked within heavy folds, peered out at her with obvious distaste.

“I’m afraid you’ve come at inopportune time. The Prince is unable to entertain guests.”

“Well, we ain’t here to entertain, pally.”

A sharp look from Sue silenced her teammates. “Please,” she said, “we desire an audience with Namor.”

He looked them over head and toe, offering the faintest hint of a smirk. “I do not see the need.”

“You don’t see the need?” Susan repeated, aghast. “There’s a war threatening! Namor is the only one who can prevent it.”

The old man’s face kept its bemused expression as he fixed her with his haughty gaze. “Predictably, you misunderstand the situation, outsiders. It is entirely out of the Prince’s hands. His people are in rebellion. It is they who must either heel or be crushed by his might. If, perhaps, you wish to convince them of the futility of their actions, then be about it. Our Lord promises to be merciful to those who surrender now.”

“This is insane! Please,” she pleaded, “won’t Namor listen to reason? Does he really desire bloodshed?”

He sniffed. “He desires only what is his. No king of Atlantis has ever abdicated the throne willingly. He does not plan to be the first to so disgrace it.”

Sue noted the glimmer in the Atlantean’s eye as he spoke and realized what he was driving at. Namor could not simply step aside. No matter what they said or threatened, that was not a possibility. It would leave an unbearable mark of shame on his name and family.

The first king of Atlantis to relinquish his power without so much as drawing a sword. For Namor, it was unthinkable. But was war the only other solution?

Such stupid, thick-headed arrogance, she thought to herself, but the blood would be no less terrible because of it.

“If we could find a way to resolve this conflict peaceably,” she asked, “would the Prince hear it?”

The seneschal regarded her with shrewd eyes. His wizened face, honed by years of political dealings, betrayed not a single thought. He merely nodded and said, “Our lord is very open-minded of course. I’m sure he shall give any words of yours appropriate consideration. But do not expect the impossible.”

Sue bowed respectfully. “May my friends and I have time and place to discuss this issue in private?”

“Yes, we shall grant this favor.”

Lazily, he raised a crooked finger and a retainer appeared from the adjoining room.

“Escort them to the banquet hall and give them full benefit of our Lord’s hospitality. They are to have absolute privacy and anything else they desire.” He looked down at Susan. “You have two hours.”

“And then?”

“And then,” he said, “my man will escort you to the gates.”

“Oh, brother,” Ben said, sniffing at one of the golden wine chalices on the table before crumbling it into a ball. “Grant us this favor? I’ll grant him a favor alright--knuckle sandwiches, all ya eat.”

“Tried ‘em,” Johnny said with smirk. “Too much ham, not enough zip.”

Ben shot his teammate a glare before whirling on Sue. “Suzie, look, I know ya used to have a thing for this guy, but this is nuts. Clown’s off his rocker. We need to take him down for somebody gets hurt here. You heard the way that guy was talkin’. They’re practically itchin’ for a war!

Sue shook her head. “Then we heard two different things. Why do you think Namor sent him to meet us? He knows we’re here to help prevent this war but if we approach him in the wrong way, it will only escalate things. Namor doesn’t want this conflict but he can’t stand down. His pride won’t let him.”

“Don‘t sound like what I heard, lady. You sure don’t just want that to be true?”

“He’s our friend. It’s not by accident we’re standing here. He could have thrown us out just as easily as not. He wants us to find a solution.” Sue dropped into one of the hall’s chairs, squeezing her eyes as she massaged her temples. “If only…”

If only, what? she asked herself. Sue knew the other half though. If only Reed was here. She could see the same unspoken question on her teammates’ faces. Reed would have known what to do; Reed would have seen the solution to this problem by now.

Reed would have acted like what he was: the team’s true leader.

Sue winced at her own thoughts. Was that really true? She had stepped into the role of leadership before and had success. But those instances, she knew, were mostly combat situations. Ben or Johnny probably could have done just as good a job. By now, they all knew their way around a battlefield.

But when it came to a spot like this--where hundreds, maybe thousands, of lives hung on her making the right decision--was she fit to fill his role? A nagging suspicion told her she wasn’t.

Before the team had even come into existence, Reed had planned for its possibility.* From the beginning, he knew what needed to be done and had never hesitated. Sue, on the other hand, never even dreamed of taking on such a role. Her powers had come as a great shock, and not exactly a welcome one.

* (Revealed way, way back in Fantastic Four vs. X-Men - Al)

When Sue was a girl--and really she was still just a girl when the accident occurred--she had never wanted to be a hero or to live a life of action. Her desires had been simple. At most she daydreamed of being an actress, but even that wasn’t serious. Really she had wanted to marry a good man, have children, live a normal life.

Was that bad? Was that something to be ashamed of? Sue didn’t think so but nevertheless it suggested she was far from a first choice as a superhero team leader. Those first few years after the team came together, she barely even participated in their battles and victories. While the others trained and trained, eager for the next fight, she found herself dreading it.

Why do we have to always fight it out? Why, she had asked herself, couldn’t they work things out more peacefully, make the enemy come to their side? Absolute foolishness in hindsight, right? As though Doom could have been talked out of his mad schemes.

She sighed. Maybe that was it. She lacked that killer instinct, the confidence of a born warrior. Maybe-

Suddenly, Susan sat up and ran back through her previous thoughts. A smile crept over her face.

“Whatcha got, Suzie?” Ben asked. “Clobberin’ time?”

“No,” she told him, “not yet, not ever if I can help it. Let’s get back to the throne room.”

Ben and Johnny exchanged glances as their leader headed purposefully back towards the way they entered.

“Well,” Johnny said with a grin, “you heard the boss, right?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Prince Namor, the monarch of Atlantis and hero of legend, sat upon the throne of Atlantis with a crown of laurels on his head. He was garbed in a white silk toga, the scepter of royal power lying casually in his lap as he surveyed his uninvited guests from his chair of gold and pearl.

His face was cruel with royal disdain.

“Know now surface dwellers, I grant this audience only out of past respect. You have no business in Atlantis on the eve of war.”

Unfazed by this churlish greeting, Sue strode boldly up to the throne. The guards placed their hands on the hilts of their swords but a single frown from their ruler backed them down.

“We come as friends, Namor.”

“Then I hope we shall not part as enemies.”

“As do I…”

At this Sue stepped forward, climbing the three or four steps that separated her from the Prince. When she reached the last one, she dropped down to one knee and bowed her head respectfully. A look of shock came over her teammates’ faces.

“No way,” Ben growled. “I’m gonna knock th-”

“Shhh,” Johnny said, placing a restraining on his friend’s shoulder. “Sue knows what she’s doing…”

Even Namor looked stunned. “Please, Susan,” he said with alarm, “this is not necessary between us!”

“I must kneel, good Prince, because I have come to ask your royal highness a favor.”

Suddenly his eyes narrowed and a bit of the coldness seeped back in. “What favor would that be? Be warned that I cannot abandon the fight, even for you.”

“I would not request it. Instead I ask a favor for myself.”

“Which is?”

“Did you not notice, wise prince, that one of our number is absent today?”

“Of course,” he said. “The talented if fool-headed Reed Richards, your husband.”

“Then you must realize the position we are in.”

A look of confusion came over the Prince’s face. “I’m not sure I understand…”

“Without Reed Richards we are placed in a dangerous situation. It is his leadership and wisdom we rely on. In his absence, we are greatly weakened and, I fear, in a perfect position for our enemies to take advantage. That is why I must ask you this favor.”

“This favor?”

“Your strength, your prowess, your knowledge of tactics and years of leadership experience. You are the only man fit to stand in his place. We beg you--I beg you--to please come and aid us in this time of need.”

Ben looked like he was choking on something foul but Johnny clapped a hand over his mouth before he could shout anything stupid.

“Please,” she said, “as friends, as allies, can you ignore our plea?”

For a moment the Prince stood still as stone and a great silence fell over the hall. His eyes, hard and dark, remained focused on the human woman at his feet. There was an anger there, outrage even, and it was mirrored in the faces of many in the hall.

Susan knew she had placed him in an awkward position. To deny her request would be to dishonor himself through disloyalty to his friends and allies. Yet to answer it meant leaving Atlantis, ceding the fight before it even began. She could only hope her earlier judgment on his true feelings had been correct--that he would avoid bloodshed if given the opportunity.

At last Namor stood. The hard lines of his face softened as he took Susan’s hand. When he spoke, he spoke directly to her, but his voice filled the entire hall.

“Your words were heartfelt, my dear friend. I cannot help but to be struck by them. When you arrived, I had thought you’d come to dissuade me from the inevitable. Now I see you were brought to Atlantis by your own circumstance. Do you realize what you ask of me though?”

“I do,” she said, “but there was no other of equal prowess we could approach. Our debt to you and your people will be great.”

“So it shall. But then the Prince of Atlantis is always generous to those in need. It is his character to repay past friendship with gratitude and love, even at personal hardship.” Here the Prince paused and turned his eye on the others in the hall. “If only the same could be said for the Atlantean people.”

There were suppressed murmurs across the throne room. The Prince’s retainers realized at last what they were witnessing. The crisis was passing without a single drop of blood spilled.

“Sire, you cannot-”

Namor held up a hand, silencing the dissenter with but a gesture. “As for my people,” he declared to those still standing, “inform them that their glorious Prince leaves now to fulfill his duty and honor his line, even while his ingrate subjects dishonor his name and shame their once proud heritage. Know I shall return no more until the wrong done me has been righted.”

As he finished his speech, which undoubtedly would be reported word-for-word throughout Atlantis, he removed his crown and placed it calmly alongside his scepter on the vacant throne. He then lifted Sue gently back to her feet. Only the faintest smile passed between them.

“I am an Atlantean no longer!”

A shockwave passed over the assembled soldiers and royal advisors but none spoke aloud as the four figures walked proudly from the throne room--three humans and the former Prince of Atlantis.

The Fantastic Four.

Next Issue: The story returns to the Negative Zone as Reed Richards uncovers the truth behind Planet 32-I. A truth that may prove too much for him to bear…

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Author’s Note: Namorita appears courtesy of Daniel Ingram, who writes her regular appearances over in Force Works.