7: The Bigger Picture

The six of us piled back in the van. Really my place was much too small for so many people…and not very secure. I knew where I should have taken them but had somehow managed to convince myself they might find the apartment less intimidating. I glanced down at the brown leather case Duo had retrieved from the pawn shop…I still wasn't sure how I'd been able to part with the pieces even temporally. They were a part of my past. A past I had avoided far too long.

The ESUN Veteran's Registration & Reintegration Act stipulated that; regardless of former affiliation or rank, Soldiers would not be held accountable for activities perpetuated during wartime if they chose to fully accept the peace and worked to support it. Generally that meant that the government kept a file on you and made sure you stayed out of trouble and helped you find work which would benefit society.

The V.R.R program was not heavy handed as one might expect. The government did not go to any great trouble to discover who did what during the war or whether or not the names we'd registered under actually belonged to us…In return for that consideration and continued anonymity we, for the most part, dutifully kept the conditions of release and endured self-imposed exile from the avenues of power to win free of the stigma that overshadowed every aspect of the war.

I had not wanted to come back but bringing the boys to this place was the best option. My dreadfully depleted funds forced me to walk a thin-line at times; in this instance though, I didn't think I had anything to worry about. I had been paid for my last consulting job and 0-2 had my things safely back again. I had worried about loosing them to be sure but few people would recognize the items I had been desperate enough to barter, and those that did would consider them nothing more than hopelessly dated toys. The point was moot anyway. I gazed at the battered leather case and couldn't help smiling at the bitter-sweet memories it contained.

The braided boy was still going on about the results of the last test. His questions came at a mile a minute: "So I am a master of multi-tasking am I? What is the most trains you've noticed in the fabulous roundhouse of my mind? How come I'm not aware of them all, all the time? I'm still in control right? Can I have another doughnut?" Duo asked bouncing up and down in the passenger seat like a puppy.

"To answer your last question first…no I am not giving you any more sugar," I told him definitively. "How many trains: Ten, I think—Nice analogy by the way, I didn't think you knew much about pre-colonial railways." I pulled the van out into the steady midday traffic. "Finally, you only focus on what is most important at a given time but can drift from line to line prioritizing instinctively as a situation unfolds. That is what multi-tasking is all about. And yes, you do it very well…mostly. But you need to remember you know only a fraction of what is going on in your head…others don't even have that advantage. They have less chance of judging what motivates you, than you do…and that is why they get frustrated with you."

"Chief's talking 'bout you again Heero…do I bother you with my brilliant mind Mr. Yuy? Do I? Do you call me Baka just because you aren't capable of following my superior intellect Hmmmm?" Duo taunted the tussle-headed boy in the back seat.

From the middle seat, WuFei leaned forward grabbed the Duo's braid and yanked it. "Shut-up Maxwell!"

"Ow..ow..ow…owwe, leggo! No more doughnuts for you either," The boy whined. But as soon as he managed to regain control of his tail his goofy smile returned in full force. "Wuffers feels intimidated by my smarts." He hugged himself in contentment. The comment earned Duo another steely glare, but I was surprised when the young dragon did not condemn the assertion outright.

I had been in 0-5's mind and knew he had nothing to be self conscious about, especially in matters of intellect. WuFei was a scholar, with photographic recall of pretty much anything he read. 0-1 and 0-3 had better recollection of actual people, places, things or situations…but if it was recorded, WuFei could master it in moments. I was about to comment something to that effect when Duo suddenly stopped babbling and looked suddenly thoughtful. Although I'd just finished showing the others how cleverly 0-2 'shunted his trains of thought' it still caught me by surprise.

Duo frowned slightly and played with the tip of his braid, brushing the chestnut colored tuft against his cheek. "Ya know it is a bit creepy thinking that you can peek into our heads whenever you want…but I can see the value. If I'm thinking something, I generally tell the rest of you…whether you want to hear it or not. But…as the man says, you aren't like me.

We all know there's got to be something going on behind Tro-man's curtain of hair. If we could set our pagers to pick up the remote signal, we could know what's really troubling T. Silence 's just not natural ya know." "Even Q says keepin it all in s' not healthy," he explained quietly. "If we knew what was the matter we could help."

"Silence is not natural for YOU Duo. But that doesn't mean…" I tried to tell him…but the boy cut me off with a question.

"You knew him a long time, right Boss—" What was it with this boy and nick-names? I wondered but didn't try to interrupt. "—longer than any of us. Why IS he so quiet? Is that the Makar's fault too? Did they mess him up?"

It had been a legitimate question and he had directed it to me. "Do you mind if I tell him Nanashi?" I asked, knowing better than to expect a verbal response I adjusted rearview mirror so I could see him nod. From the puzzled expression on his face I wondered if Master S had…encouraged…0-3 to forget what had been the likely start of his reticent ways. The green eyes glimmered and he shrugged.

Having been given the go-ahead, "It is quite simple really," I continued noting Heero sat forward in his seat a bit, taking more interest in what I was going to say than his half-eaten doughnut. WuFei and Quatre looked equally intrigued. "First let me say Nanashi was quiet to begin with," I explained. "but it got worse when he was…what, about nine?" I asked. A backwards glance showed Trowa's slight nod—I suppose he did remember.

"I was just starting military training, barely older than you are in fact, when there was…an incident…involving certain officers of a mercenary group contracted to help train us. Our boy no name was a frightful mess and getting his jaw wired shut—after being broken in three places—wasn't the worst of it. Master S was a fine surgeon and he was called to put the kid back together. Everyone was impressed by our Nanashi and the Makar was no different. I imagine that was why he got considered for the gundam project two years later," I explained recalling how proud the rest of the unit was. At the time, I knew a bit more about the project than most and I could only hope his experience would be a positive one.

"What happened to the men that hurt him?" Quatre asked glowering darkly.

"I don't know." I sighed, "We begged and pleaded for him to tell us who had beaten him. We wanted to see justice done. Even after all he had been through, our 'No Name' was…shall I say…tight lipped about the whole affair."

"It's past." Trowa frowned, "Forget it."

"It changed you," I told him, "We all knew it. You even looked different. I suppose it was understandable that after four months of liquid diet all the soft edges melted away leaving you the beginnings of that long lean shape. But it was more than that. You carried yourself differently and even after you healed, those long silences were as much a part of you as that limber frame."

Quatre looked pale. He was closer to Trowa than the others and had no idea that his friend had hid something like this from him…from them all. There was, clearly, more to the story than even I knew. But, unless they got it direct from his mind, as Duo's suggested, we would not be able to pry it from the taciturn young man. So, like a good diplomat, Winner changed the subject, "So that is why you buy those horrible protein shakes all the time?" he asked with visible shudder.

"I like them," The green eyes boy muttered.

"You wouldn't be anemic if you drank one now and again, Quatre," Heero interjected. Doctor J had seen Heero had other reasons to become acclimated to a liquid nutrient during his years of training. I saw how he enjoyed having variety in his diet now but apparently, 0-1 hadn't slipped his training so far that he avoided taking up the old routine every so often either.

"I tried one…I thought it was a strawberry milkshake…I was wrong. Once is enough, thank you," The blond announced crossing his arms petulantly. "If I want something like that I'm mixing it myself with fresh-fruit and ice cream, maybe yoghurt. No chalky powders, no chemicals I can't pronounce just natural things."

"Eggnog is good…I liked when you made that," Heero told the blond. "You can get protein that way."

We pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be vacant warehouse and I turned off the engine. Trowa…WuFei you two are up next. Same as Duo, you'll have to watch the recording after the exercise is finished. This is going to be a battle simulation with an open feed. We'll be watching, of course."

We got out of the van and Quatre found a shady spot and spread the big picnic blanket on the grass. Heero sat on one edge with the data pad. I had shown them enough that He felt secure in logging into the general menu screen and setting up the session. The icons had all been labeled so he knew which would open the pertinent screens and could avoid his own.

We had all agreed that no one would work on the pad without everyone knowledge and at least one other person acting as observer. This accountability hopefully ensured no one inadvertently did anything the others might regret. They said I was still free to do what I believed to be in their best interest but as a rule I hoped to follow the same protocol they had set.

"There are internal cameras in the place…Duo would you mind setting up a standard false-feed to the security company and route the real images to me? OO8-3Z is the transfer code," I told him.

"Sure thing Boss." The boy grabbed his tools from the back of the van, turned his baseball cap backwards, and headed off the junction box on the side of the building. "All set!" he called back a few moments later wiping his hands on his black jeans—which I noted were freshly speckled with powdered sugar from the doughnut he wasn't supposed to eat.

"Contact established," Heero announced when a screen containing the security feed sprang to life.

I opened the leather case Duo had procured and removed the two lovingly tended laser-tag guns. The sleek black weapons were perfectly balanced and molded to fit comfortably into the hand. The trigger action was smooth without being loose. I sighed, lost in the past for a moment. The two practice weapons were almost identical but I could tell them apart instantly. Mine was marked with a double-O on the grip and a silver pinstripe along the barrel. I handed the piece to Chang. The other, my brother's, had a line of gold and triple-Z I let Nanashi use—doing so the other way seemed decidedly…inappropriate.

"Don't let anything happen to these lads…they have great sentimental value," I told them.

"I remember reading about this game on the internet…it used to be popular in the pre-colony days. Don't they need little target modules to keep track of the hits or something?" Duo asked.

"Believe me; these are very special guns, and you boys should have no difficulty using them. You will know if you are hit: four non-lethal hits are equal to a kill. This is a battle SIM in every sense of the word. The link removes the need for a VR chamber. Remember when I showed you the levels of mental activity on Quatre's File? Your senses will be enhanced, set firmly in the red level, they will not revert to normal till the simulation is completed…but try to remember some of what you experience will be the result of the feed. It will not be real."

"We play inside?" Trowa's raised eyebrow made the phrase a question since his tone seemed decidedly neutral.

"Yes, you will have the entire warehouse to fight in. It will be dark. Once you are inside I will set up a level four connection. That is stronger than the one we used with Duo. You will likely feel strange…there will be some disorientation. I suggest you sit and wait it out. The objective is to locate the facility's fuse box and flip all the switches to green...while preventing your opponent from doing so as long as you can. The weapons are for sniping…You are also encouraged to go hand-to-hand. You will know when to begin. Any other questions?" I asked.

"Couldn't we use one of MY warehouses?" Quatre asked as if he felt something about the situation seemed off—perhaps he was concerned about compromising his friends' V.R.R parole standing over something as seemingly innocuous as a breaking and entering charge or it might be that he just didn't trust me—I could understand that.

"It's vacant. The people it used to belong to aren't around anymore," I tried to reassure the blond who usually acted as the group's conscience. "The only reason it has security at all is because they don't want kids getting inside and possibly getting hurt."

"And we are…what?" Chang frowned. "I promised Commander Une…and Agent Po that I would not break any laws, or any bones, while I was on leave. It is not honorable to use my Preventer's badge to keep us out of trouble. Winner could probably buy the property without any difficulty—It is just a mangy old barn."

Quatre nodded and took out his phone, supposedly planning on making the arrangements immediately. It must be something to know you could tap that kind of funds to purchase a sizable building with no preamble what so ever. But I stopped him. "You likely could buy this property, and that might eventually be the safest course of action, but not right this moment. There is more here than meets the eye." I took a deep breath. My plan had been to teach them about their pasts—not about mine. But it didn't seem like I had much choice.

"Duo's work with the security camera is enough to keep us from getting caught. But if we were, I doubt very much WuFei's commander would object to you doing recon here." I told them reluctantly. "The warehouse is a cover. This is an abandoned Romefeller facility once known as Renada Research and Development the actual base is below us."

The words came easier than I thought they would, and the boys didn't seem ready to kill me outright, so I continued: "I am the only one left with any sort of claim to this place, though I couldn't say who holds the deed. It was my home for many years before I was transferred to the military."

The lads said nothing, letting my words sink in. Could I tell them the rest? I wondered biting my lip. It was presuming quite a lot on what ever commands the masters had written into the boys making them so accepting of everything I shared with them so far. But I had to risk it. With a deep sigh and a down turned gaze I explained;

"When I used my DNA to prove Quatre was natural born…I proved that I wasn't. I bear the mark of the Makar just as you do. My brood-mate and I used to play in the warehouse, those were our weapons. He is gone now and I didn't want to come back…not alone…but I thought it might be best for you to learn the extent of your limits and abilities the same way we did."

"Let's get on with it then." Trowa didn't seem at all fazed by my confession. He simply nodded feeling the weight of the practice weapon in his hand. He sighted 0-5 down the pinstriped barrel. An odd smile quirked at the corner of his mouth…It looked as if he was going to enjoy this.