10

Reeve Tuesti

No one in Public Safety liked the port of Junon. It was dirty, dangerous, and smelly. Even knowing that, something smelled really, exceptionally bad.

"Ew, what is that?" one of the guards said to the other.

The other guard pointed towards the cement wall across from the wharf. It was hard to see through the foggy night, but the moisture amplified every odor.

"Did someone die?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"If not, what the hell is it?"

They crawled over the jagged rocks; spoke over the crash of waves. "Like someone threw a pile of monkey shit all over the place."

A pause. "How do you know what monkey shit smells like?"

The other guard gestured to stop. He crouched. The scent was stronger; almost painful. "Hey man… you better have a look at this…"

The other guard blinked. "The hell?"

It was a cold-cut sandwich: discolored in a disconcerting way. At that distance, it smelled worse than death.

The guards prepared to speak when a pair of tranquilizer darts dropped them.

Yuffie chuckled as they twitched on the ground. "See, Boobs? What did I tell you? A true shinobi of Wutai isn't limited to a set number of weapons. The world is my weapon." She moved to retrieve the sandwich.

"Don't do it, Yuffie," Cloud said.

Yuffie frowned. "Aw?"

Tifa sighed. "You're such a dirtbag, did you know that?"

A silky female voice came from beyond the concrete wall. "I suggested you not make a ruckus. Will this really be okay?"

The surviving members of AVALANCHE and Vincent turned. A woman with rippled red hair wore the uniform of a Shinra customs inspector and carried a large duffle bag.

Cid smirked. "It's okay, guys. She's with me." He approached her, for a moment seeming unsure whether to hug her or shake her hand. He settled on a slight nod. "Cissnei, this is Cloud. Tifa. Barret. Yuffie. Aerith Gainsborough." He enunciated Aerith's name.

"Cissnei's" eyes turned to Vincent. They stared at each other. Neither spoke. She looked away first and offered a narrow-eyed smile to AVALANCHE. "Hello. You all have been busy."

"It's been a week," Cid said.

Cissnei's smile faded. "I heard on the news. Kalm…"

"What about it?" Barret said.

"There were no survivors," Cissnei said. "At all. Just you."

Aerith's heart balked for a moment. Barret pounded his fist against a rock.

"Where is he now?" Aerith said.

Cissnei turned to her. "No one knows."

"Shinra has a network of satellite surveillance," Cloud said.

"It must be like trying to find a needle in a haystack though," Cissnei said.

"She's right," Cid said. "They're designed for tracking large aircraft. Something the size of a human is way too small."

"The question is where will he strike next?" Cissnei said. "And no one knows the answer to that question."

Aerith did. Or at least she had a compelling suspicion. It would come wherever she was. She remembered his interest in her pendant, aware again of her own virtual nakedness below Yuffie's thin shroud.

"Fuck that," Barret said. "See if he makes it all the way to Wutai."

"Cid told me there was another one of you back in Midgar," Cissnei said. "He operated a mechanical cat?"

"Cait," Barret said. "We ain't heard from him since Sector Five. Never even met him in real life. For all I know he forgot all about us or he's dead in a ditch. Why?"

Cissnei shook her head. "Just wanted to make sure I had the right number of uniforms…"

Cissnei opened her duffel bag and tossed bundles of clothing all around. They all caught them and unraveled them except for Vincent—it bounced off of his chest. His hands were still bound behind his back.

"Naval uniforms?" Tifa said.

Cissnei nodded and pointed to the horizon. About a mile further along the dock sat an enormous freighter. "That's going to be your ticket out. The Big Whale. It's one of the largest ships in Shinra's commercial fleet. The crew has a high turnover. You're probably never going to be found out if you just play it safe." Her eyes drifted to Vincent again.

He had not been introduced to her as the hostage and she certainly did not know AVALANCHE by sight. She recognized him. Aerith was sure of it.

"Are there any shoes?" Tifa said.

Cissnei turned. "Excuse me?"

Tifa pointed downward. Her bare, dirty and bruised toes waggled.

Cissnei arched an eyebrow.

"We kind of left in a hurry, you know," Yuffie said.

Cissnei sighed. "This will take a few minutes…"

An old, borderline-overweight porter gave them a second glance. His eyes tracked them for a few feet. He gave Vincent a long, hard look. Vincent walked conspicuously with his coat behind his back, concealing his hands. The porter did not seem preoccupied with them as he passed, however. No one else gave them more than a passing glance. Cissnei left them at the port with a wave and a final caution: "don't draw attention to yourselves." Her assessment had been accurate. The Big Whale was a big, anonymous vessel. The crew was either new or too absorbed with its own activities to pay strangers much mind. AVALANCHE boarded and made its way to the crew quarters of deck one.

After about two hours of hovering at alert in what Cissnei had assured them was a normally-unused quarter, an alarm signaling their departure sounded. Yuffie lurched and notified them they were moving and then that was that. Aerith and Barret exchanged a sympathetic look. They had never gotten along, but then, they were both leaving someone important behind.

Cloud explored the top deck. Barret, Cid, and Vincent: the boiler room. Aerith followed Yuffie on a quick trip in search of the life boats in case of an emergency. Yuffie swayed and staggered with every minute turn of the ship. She tried hard not to show her disorientedness. When they made it to the outside of the boat, salty, windy air stinging their eyes and noses, Yuffie could take no more. After about half an hour of Yuffie keeled over the edge of the ship, Aerith announced her intention to return inside.

Aerith re-entered their quarters. Through a steel bulkhead, she heard water shut off. A moment later, Tifa emerged, a towel draped across her back, otherwise as naked as the day she was born. She froze when her eyes met Aerith. She cast her eyes down self-consciously. Aerith tried not to stare. Tifa had nothing she had never seen before, though she was alarmingly… bountiful.

Aerith tried not to gape at the hideous scar running at a diagonal from her collarbone to ribcage.

Tifa quarter-turned to towel off.

"I couldn't help it," Tifa said. "I haven't felt this grimy and nasty for years."

"I know the feeling," Aerith said.

"Yuffie's puking her guts out outside, isn't she?"

"How did you know?"

"She doesn't like to advertise her weaknesses, but for such a crazy driver, she gets really motion-sick if anyone else is driving for more than a few minutes."

"I'm not surprised. She was pretty quiet on the drive here."

Tifa dried her hair. "What are you going to do when we get to Wutai?"

Aerith sat on the edge of a bunk bed. "I haven't thought that far ahead. I don't have anything there. All I have is back in Midgar."

"I know," Tifa said. "I lost my life in Nibelheim. Now I've lost it in Midgar. You can stay with us."

"I'm not so sure Barret would like that."

Tifa shrugged. "Who cares?"

"Or Cloud."

"He's warming up to you."

"So what are you going to do in Wutai?" Aerith said.

"I haven't decided yet."

"Are you going to keep fighting Shinra with Yuffie and Barret? Maybe Cloud?"

Tifa hesitated. "No."

Aerith stood. "Why not?"

"I can't bear the thought of taking another human life unnecessarily."

"You know how dangerous this is, don't you, Tifa? Keeping Vincent alive and with us is putting all of us in danger."

Tifa stepped closer. "I don't see you stopping me."

Cloud entered and froze. Tifa was completely naked, almost nose-to-nose with Aerith. A half dozen indecent thoughts scrambled through his brain. Aerith could tell. She could see them.

Men.

Tifa covered herself, unhurried. "Give me a minute?"

Cloud stared at Tifa as well, though he was not looking at the scar. When she spoke, his head snapped up. "Right." He closed the door behind himself.

"I don't think we'll make it to Wutai," Tifa half-whispered.

Aerith frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"Getting on this ship was way too easy. Even though he tried to hide his face, no one gave Cloud a second glance."

"I think you're right."

Tifa began to dress. "Here's hoping we're both wrong."

Aerith heard Yuffie cry in her sleep for the first time that night. No one slept at all for over three hours, however. Barret and Cid talked in hushed voices. Yuffie read a cheap romance novel: the kind Aerith would have never thought she would like. Tifa and Cloud lay in their beds far across the room from each other and listened, sitting up at every unusually loud groan from the bowels of the ship.

Vincent did not talk. He did not sleep. He did not eat from Cissnei's stash of sea rations Tifa offered with reluctance. He just sat.

By three a.m., they agreed to stay up and watch him in shifts. He was bound to the edge of a vacant bunk bed. All of AVALANCHE seemed to know he was holding back; waiting for something that had yet to come. It was after Cid, the only other one left awake, exited to call a contact on his PHS, Vincent finally spoke.

"You're frightened of me, girl," Vincent said.

Aerith saw his eyes gleam in the pale light. She sat upright beside her bed. "I don't trust you. I don't even know what you are."

"Humans are afraid of that which they don't understand."

"No. It's not that I don't understand you. You tried to shoot us."

He chuckled.

"And I'm not afraid of you," she said. "I said I don't trust you. You tried to kill us."

"Then answer me this," he said. "Why did you not let them kill me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Wrong answer. You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Your friend has lost the will to kill. You know full well a captive Turk gives you no bargaining power. Yet neither you nor she has disclosed that knowledge. It is as though you want to get your comrades killed."

Aerith surveyed the room. The rest of AVALANCHE still slept soundly. "You're complaining?"

Vincent's voice was strangely impassive. "You saved my life. Why?"

"Sometimes we humans do things without a good reason." She now took it for granted she was speaking to something other than a human.

"Humans always have a reason. Even if it's a stupid one."

Aerith looked away.

Neither spoke for five minutes.

"You won't answer me," Vincent said.

"I can't answer."

"Because you don't have a reason."

"I didn't want you to die."

"But I'm your enemy. I would kill you."

"Don't think I'm on the same level as you."

"That still doesn't answer my question. Why is my life so special to you?"

Aerith shrugged. "It's not. It's not any more special than any other. All life is special. All life is sacred. And that's the best answer you'll get."

Vincent laughed. "All life is sacred?"

"What's so funny?"

"You're a human. To live is to take life. From the plants and animals you eat to all of the lives lost to support your tiresome civilization. Your new best friend has taken more than her fair share of innocent life. How can you reconcile that with this naïve notion that 'all life is sacred?'"

"I can't. Okay? It's something I believe. For that, I don't have a reason."

Vincent quieted. "What would you say if I told you you're wrong? I know it for a fact. My life isn't sacred."

"I'd say, 'get over yourself.'"

Vincent remained still for all of a minute. Only the sound of Barret's snore disturbed the perfect silence. "Cid Highwind. I like that name."

Aerith looked up. "Huh?"

"Are you familiar, Aerith Gainsborough, with the Legend of the Four Crystals?"

"I can't say that I am."

Vincent 'hmphed.' "It's a very old story. They say it's one of the foundating myths of the human race itself. Countless versions have been told across the generations. They tell the tale of a far off world governed by the magical powers of the elements."

Aerith scowled.

"There is at least one curious commonality all versions of this story contain. They all feature minor characters by the name of 'Cid.'" Often, but not always, he is a scientist or engineer of some sort. He is sometimes instrumental in the making or running of primitive airships."

Aerith's heart jumped.

"If I were ever to make up a name…"

Aerith bolted to her feet. "Tifa! Cloud!"

"Reno, Elena, and Rude are in position. Are you sure about this?"

"It needs to happen tonight."

"They're suspicious? I thought you said they trusted you completely."

"These aren't your garden variety terrorists. I don't even think we would have made it this far if they weren't running on two days without a good night's sleep. I think Cissnei raised a few red flags. Also, they expect a certain degree of challenge. We should have at least tightened security in the port. They would have expected that."

"And risk another Sector Five incident? No. They needed to be isolated."

"I understand, Tseng. Well, we're half-a day's sail from Junon. I think the time's right."

"Fair enough. Well, stay on your toes. If all goes well, you'll be back home within a few days. You've done well, Reeve."

"Sir." "Cid" hung up his PHS.

Home? What home? He had no home. He had not had a home since that night three years ago. That night, he worked late in Shinra Tower and he would have worked later if he had not heard the news on the radio. The train stations were all locked down. By the time he reached Sector Five, all that was left was a smoldering brick face and a garden that, after years and years of effort, never grew.

The only flowers in Sector Five grew in her cathedral garden. For that, he hated the flower girl from the moment he met her in Seventh Heaven.

All that time ago, Tseng warned him of the phenomenon of a spy empathizing with his enemy. He searched his heart and found no empathy—only hatred. He hated pandering to the killers' provincial world view. It was a world view that disregarded the complexities of civilization and condoned the dehumanization and murder of those with whom they disagreed. He hated pretending to be like them. Most of all, he hated him. He hated drinking and smoking with him. He hated pretending to be his friend for years.

The man AVALANCHE knew as "Cid" ran his fingers through bleached blond hair. After days without enough privacy to fuss over his disguise, black roots emerged. A patchy, mottled brown beard would appear within another several days. In the bathroom below deck an hour ago, he saw a face almost like his own of years before, but unnervingly different: more sallow and older than the three years difference should have accounted for.

His life in Urban Development those years ago more and more seemed like the life of another. When the Turks needed an infiltrator for a dangerous mission, he passed all of the aptitude tests. He volunteered readily. He had nothing to lose. In the mirror, he no longer saw a mid-level bureaucrat.

He saw everything he was meant to become.

Cid, no, Reeve froze. The cold metal of a knife rested at his throat. It was not especially sharp. He knew its owner well enough to know that was purposeful. She had no interest in quick, painless death. His breath misted in the chill of the night air. "Yuffie… what are you doing?" he said.

"I've got a lot of questions for you. Depending on whether or not I like the answer, you're dead," she whispered.

Barret's voice became audible. "Let him go, Yuffie."

"But…"

"I said, let him go. Let him explain himself."

Yuffie pushed away her captive. He slammed against the sheet metal of a wall. He leaned against the edge of the ship. The freighter pitched and yawed. Tifa, Cloud, Yuffie, Barret, and Aerith formed a half-circle around him. Vincent, bound in handcuffs covered by a marine jacket, hovered near Aerith.

"What's the meaning of this?" Reeve said.

"We're all just tired…" Barret said. "We're pissed off. It's late. Just tell us 'cause they really want to know. Who was that Cissnei woman? You said she's a sympathizer. How come I ain't ever heard of her before?"

Reeve noticed a flutter of movement above and behind AVALANCHE. "Because she's not. Ain't even her real name. She's a Turk operative."

Barret blinked. "What…?"

"She set all of you up. So did I."

"What are you sayin', Cid? I've known you for years. You gave us intel about Shinra Public Safety. You helped me fuckin' blow up reactor Number One!"

"None of that intel was worth shit, Barret. And remember all the Shinra troops we met up with at Reactor One? I led all of you into a trap. When you got yourselves out of it, I didn't have any choice but to go along with it."

"You watched Marlene while I was out on missions. You spent hours with me drinking into the night."

"You think I liked living in a shithole bar in the middle of the goddamn slums? I didn't like it for a fucking minute."

"Why? How can you do this?" Barret cried.

"I did for Shera and our unborn child," Reeve said. "Her name was on the news after Reactor Five. I'm sure you don't remember. You ruined my fuckin' life. You took everything that was ever important to me and it pisses me off you don't even know or care. When this is all over and done I hope they let me be the one to pull the level to gas all of you monsters."

Yuffie lowered her head and inhaled a sharp breath. She approached, flipping the knife in her hand, preparing to strike.

"Yuffie, don't," Barret said.

Yuffie hesitated. Barret's eyes met Reeve's. They struggled to connect. They struggled to understand.

Barret remained disconnected. His mechanical arm whirled and out emerged a gatling gun. He brought it to bear on Reeve.

Aerith looked over her shoulder, startled, as though tracking a sound. No sounds were made, but Reeve knew exactly where she was looking. "Barret," she cried out. "Don't…"

From the sound of it alone, it was no ordinary gunshot. The cacophonous boom echoed through metal of the ship's deck and the thick, misty night air.

Barret's right arm disappeared between the mechanical attachment and his elbow in a flash of crimson. He crumbled to the ground and whimpered over his shattered limb.

Yuffie's eyes flashed. Before she could move, Reeve raised a halting hand and spun it around. She turned in time to see the squad of Public Safety infantrymen emerge from around a corner. Rude and Elena stood at their front. Reno waved from a ledge above behind a high-caliber rifle: the kind they used to stop armored units.

Cloud reached for his sword.

"I wouldn't do that," Reeve said.

Cloud grasped the hilt. "I'm at least taking you with us."

Barret struggled to his knees. "Kill the fucker, Spike…"

Reeve gestured to stop with one hand. With the other, he reached for his PHS. "Not yet. Not until you hear this. Trust me."

Reeve dialed a number. As he did so, a loud, low hum echoed through the air.

An airship was coming.

The PHS rang as Reeve set it to speaker. It picked up. "Lieutenant Antilles."

Reeve smirked. "I want to talk to our guests, Lieutenant Antilles."

"Sir..."

Rumbling, rustling sounds came through the receiver.

"The hell are you tryin' to pull, Cid?" Barret said.

The soft, young voice on the PHS cut through the humid air and the low growl of the narrow airship high overhead. "Daddy? Is that you?"

Barret stood, clutching the stub of his arm. "Marlene?"

"Daddy, I'm scared!" she said.

An older female voice joined Marlene's. "It's okay. Don't worry, dear."

Aerith shook. "Mom?"

"We're okay dear… Don't worry about us. You have to stay safe…" Elmyra said.

A male voice spoke through the phone. "Sorry boss," Biggs said. "I guess in the end I wasn't good enough."

"Biggs…" Barret said. "What happened?"

"They were waiting for us at the safe house," Biggs said. "I don't know how the Turks got in, but they knew exactly where we were and how to get to us…"

Barret wiped away a tear, from pain or sorrow, no one could tell. "Corneo. It had to be that bastard Corneo!"

"You lower-plate scum need each other," Cid said. "You shouldn't be so eager to burn bridges."

The airship hovered overhead, its propellers changing the current of wind all around. From a rope ladder descended a strikingly handsome and exotic man in a sharp navy blue sut. He touched his feet to the ground and removed an earphone.

"Game, set, and match, Barret Wallace," the man with long black hair said.

"Tseng," Aerith said.

Reeve hung up his PHS and smirked.

Tseng approached within twenty meters of AVALANCHE. He studied their faces; surveyed Barret on the ground. He frowned at Vincent for a barely-perceptible second. "You probably could kill me, Cloud Strife, but not only would all of you be dead in seconds, I wouldn't count on your friends and family in Midgar living."

Cloud released the handle of his sword.

Aerith knelt by Barret. It was a gaping, bleeding wound that could not be easily healed. Her palms glowed. She jolted backwards as though shocked. Barret sobbed uncontrollably. Tears streaked down Aerith's face. "You bastard…"

"He won't have much longer," Tseng said. "We'll treat him for shock and control the bleeding once you've all surrendered."

Yuffie seethed. "You didn't mind gunning us down like dogs before…"

Tseng's eyes narrowed. "I thought we could be civilized about this. But… if you insist… Don't hit the Cetra girl, men." He raised his right hand. The faceless infantrymen raised their rifles.

"No! You have to promise not to hurt them," Aerith cried.

Tseng lowered his hand. "What was that?"

"Aerith, no," Tifa said.

"I'll come willingly if you promise not to hurt them," Aerith said.

Tseng's lip curling into a brief smile. Then his face returned blank, sphinx-like. "They'll get a fair trial. This time, you'll be treated with dignity. So will your friends. That's all I can promise."

Aerith glared hard at Tseng. He looked away from the force swelling up from within her eyes. It affected even Reeve. "I guess this is goodbye…"

Tifa wiped her eyes. "Aerith…"

"I'll try to help," Aerith said. "I'll find a way to help and I'll make sure Marlene and Biggs are okay." She extended her hands towards Tseng, prepared to be handcuffed.

Tseng tensed his lower lip. He watched Aerith with an unreadable expression. "That won't be necessary this time." He nodded to Cloud, Yuffie, Barret, and Tifa. "Elena. Rude…"

"Tseng?" Elena said.

Handcuff them. And take Vincent to the brigg with them."

Rude and Elena gasped. Vincent himself looked almost surprised, emoting as much as much as anyone had ever seen him emote at least, which was not much.

"What have I done?" Vincent said.

"You have to earn the right to be a Turk, Vincent," Tseng said. "We made you one way too soon."

"I haven't done anything wrong," Vincent said.

"Maybe not," Tseng said. "But you're an unknown quantity. I don't need unknown quantities in the equation now. The stakes are too high. Rude. Elena."

The two Turks approached with handcuffs.

Yuffie glowered. "You're dead. You know that, don't you Cid?"

The infantrymen froze and aimed their weapons.

"Not now," Yuffie said. "But you will be. Just wait."

Reeve smirked. "You're one to talk."

Tseng held onto Aerith, supporting her as they lifted up into the airship high overhead. Over the thundering of its propellers, Yuffie objected as the Turks handcuffed her. Many emotions crossed Reeve's heart until he finally settled on one:

Elation.

Tseng led Aerith with surprising gentleness to her isolated cell. Metal bars locked her out of a long corridor. Through a narrow window, she could barely make out the blinking lights of the superfreighter below. She had no reason to trust the man at her side. Still, she was calm and at peace. He was an old, familiar soul. Somehow she just knew.

"I apologize for how General Heideggar's men and even my own treated you during your last detention."

"Do you expect small gestures of kindness will lead me to cooperate or betray my friends?"

"No. I'll be kind to you because it's the right thing to do."

Aerith tried to respond, but the words caught in her throat.

Tseng looked away. "I can't guarantee what President Shinra will say or do. But I'll try my best."

"What's going to happen to them?"

"Your friends?"

Aerith nodded.

"With the charges against them and the strength of the evidence, I wouldn't expect them to live, or at least ever see the light of day again," Tseng said.

Aerith leaned against her cell wall.

"Tell me. Only because I'm curious," Tseng said. "Why would an upstanding young girl: the daughter of a pensioned widow who raises and sells flowers run off with a band of terrorists?"

"Your problem is that you see them as nothing but terrorists. I would never condone some of the things they've done. But even you know they have good reason for doing what they do," Aerith said.

"There are very few good excuses for wanton destruction like that."

"There are also very few good excuses for living your life knowing you're doing something terribly wrong day-in and day-out."

He broke away from their eye-to-eye link, afraid. "Your mother will be released once we return to Midgar; after meeting the president. What happens to to you after that is up to the president."

"The president's not in Midgar?" Aerith said.

"He's waiting for us at the Cosmo Canyon research facility. I'm sure he'll be eager to speak with you. Your friends too, but for different reasons."

"What's in Cosmo Canyon?"

"Some things we need to show you, Aerith. Maybe you'll give us the chance to explain ourselves better. And maybe you can explain a few things to us in turn."

And then he was gone, disappeared down the long corridor. Aerith thought she heard Yuffie's protests a deck below. The airship moved. She had never before been in an airship. At this altitude, the voices of the planet took on a new pitch. Frequencies that seemed in dischord from the ground seemed to harmonize and melodize in tandem from so far away. The airship pulled away from the freighter while curious sailors watched from below.

The voices cried. They sang.

A black figure floated across the horizon. He hovered at a stable distance from the airship. He was too far away from Aerith to see his mako green eyes.

The voices rejoiced.