Chapter 9: The Timeless Traceur

January 15th, 2009

Canderous Ordo's piercing slate eyes remained fixed on me as he awaited his answer. His composed facial expression, complete with furrowed brows and pursed lips, refused to reveal any hint of displeasure. Nonetheless, his fingers fidgeted furiously and exposed the true extent of his impatience. My hesitation was largely due to my intrinsically cautious nature. Unlike Canderous, I was not a man to eagerly dive headfirst into risky situations. Could we really compose a foolproof plan to steal a prized possession of the Anthros in three days? Was this emerald really worth the possibility of antagonizing the seventh sector slum's most dominant tribe? I felt that I lacked enough essential information to make a full commitment, but I expected that answer would not satiate my militaristic comrade. Besides, any insecurities I felt at that moment were likely ill-founded. I was, after all, Solid Snake. I was the best-ranked clandestine operative to ever serve the interests of the country once known as Midgar. Not too long ago, I garnered a reputation for sneaking past legions of terrorists and battling metallic monstrosities. It seemed unlikely that I would struggle to swipe a piece of jewelry from a comparatively disorganized civilian clan.

Despite our many differences, Canderous and I seemed to have a lot in common. We were both aging warriors from bygone eras, holding onto the nostalgia of better days in our respective pasts. The mere fact that Canderous had fought in real battles before differentiated him from the majority of people I was likely to meet in these slums. I was not sure he was trustworthy, but his straightforward and candid approach seemed a breath of fresh air from the kind of intentionally vague, manipulative bluster I'd heard from Odessa. I had never heard of the 'Mandalorians' before, so I suspected that Canderous was not originally from Termina. If Canderous kept his pride and aggression in check, a combat veteran with his level of experience would make a great asset.

Though the intangibles of this stealth mission made its undertaking far from a flawless endeavor, there were three very palpable benefits in making the investment; Ordo's trust, Al Bhed's support, and half the gil. The latter was my most pressing concern. I was broke. Otacon and Phoenix suspected that any money I attempted to bring into Termina would be stolen by the soldiers working the border patrols, and they were probably right. Subsequently, I left Kalm with no money in my possession. Bringing an excessive stockpile of gil would only endanger my cover before I had even entered the metropolis' soft underbelly.

Even without the monetary incentive, Canderous' mission offered other tantalizing advantages. Despite all my latent combat abilities, I was simply an anonymous grunt to most in the Al Bhed tribe. To give Operation Philanthropy a fighting chance of succeeding, I had to first assert my worth as a dependable and trustworthy ally. There were many crazy prophets throughout the slums preaching messages of 'revolution' and 'change.' My movement had to represent something more than idle words and unproven theories. While I needed to remain in the shadows, with my true intentions hidden from those in power, I had to simultaneously establish myself as a growing threat to Termina's establishment and an alternative to Link's oppression. To truly succeed, I had to almost become a mythological beast, with a daunting reputation familiar to everyone. Yet the man behind the mask had to remain hidden in plain sight, a figure that no enemy could easily find or identify.

All my brooding introspection seemed lost on Canderous. "...Damn it, what the hell's wrong with you, David? Are you going to answer my question anytime today, or should I come back tomorrow?"

"Sorry. My mistake. I was just...thinking things through," I responded. "We'll need to plan this out thoroughly beforehand, because we can't afford to make any mistakes. But...I think I'm in. I think we can do this."

Any trace of annoyance almost instantaneously evaporated from Canderous' face, as the silver-haired mercenary broke out into an effervescent smile. "I knew you wouldn't let me down. I'll be sure to let Mitsurugi..."

"No, that won't be necessary. Don't sell yourself short, Canderous. We're both experienced fighters, and any more backup would only slow us down. This kind of mission depends on our ability to remain undetected. The more people that tag along for the ride, the more likely we'll be discovered."

Apparently, the words from my mouth composed graceful music in Ordo's ears. "...Really? You still think old man Canderous has some magic left in the tank? I'm impressed. You're about the first one in this forsaken safehouse to have that kind of faith in me. The way Jackson rants and raves, you'd think I was just run-down another piece of trash."

I hoped Canderous would not prove Jackson right in three days. "...Yeah, I've heard the same crap before, too. Once, not too long after a successful operation, I was...rudely informed that my organization had taken measures to replace my services. They brought in a new kid, barely twenty years old, thought he represented a brighter future. For a year or so, I was put out to pasture, and the kid was given all the tough assignments. He was young, they said. Athletic. Charming. Vibrant. Then..."

"Then he got himself killed, right?" said Canderous. "All that shit about charm and skills and body condition, it doesn't mean anything if you're too inexperienced to avoid a bullet to your brain."

"...No, not quite. I'll give the kid some credit. He was too strong to be killed easily," I reminisced. "He had a mental breakdown. He witnessed something terrible. When he returned...he just wasn't the same person. Something had snapped. He was too young to handle the pressure, so he just vanished."

"Hmph. Sounds to me like sheer cowardice," Canderous barked. "Some boys just aren't built to handle the brutality of war."

"Maybe so," I replied. "In the end, my commander learned that experience trumped raw ability. Anyone can be born with certain talents. The kind of experience you and I have, and the knowledge that comes with every battle fought... it's not something that's inherited. It's not hard-boiled into our genetic codes. We earned our stripes the hard way, and that separates men like us from the pack."

"And that's why we should do this alone," said Canderous. "We'll prove just what we're capable of. And then, the Al Bhed will recognize our worth. Jackson won't try to send me out on these mundane little treasure hunts anymore. I like where you're going with this."

"Right," I said. "Though, diving headfirst into Anthro territory...we can't afford to take the risks lightly. Do you have access to a map of their park? If not, we'll need to find one."

"I'll see what I can do, but I can't make any promises," responded Canderous. "It's been a long time since the slums have had any form of legitimate government. If a map did exist, it would be an ancient relic. That wouldn't be much help, given how much the seventh sector has changed. We may have to rely on a preliminary scouting mission to give us an idea of what we'll be up against. But the Anthros won't welcome us, even as civilians. We're humans. They'd be suspicious."

"I'm not so convinced," I replied. "The Anthros may appear to be isolationists, but they wouldn't survive if they attempted to forgo any contacts with humans. After all, they had to barter with Vercetti for the land. Without human allies, the Anthros would have limited access to food, water, and other necessities. There must be humans in this area who are covertly assisting the Anthros. We'll just need to ask around, gather as much intel as possible."

"Regardless," said Canderous, "we have to start this mission on the night of the eighteenth. So we don't have much time."

"We have more than enough," I retorted. "We'll discuss the details later. In the meantime, I'm going to pursue every lead and learn as much as I can about these Anthros."

"Sounds like a plan, David," Canderous exclaimed. "Remember what I said earlier. You can meet me anytime in my room, or in the Al Bhed tavern. You'll probably find me in one of those two places. I'll be waiting for you. And..."

There was an awkward moment of silence that transpired, as Canderous seemed to struggle to find the right words to say. "Is something wrong?"

"And...I just wanted to...thank you. Thanks for believing in my abilities. It's been a long while since the last time I was looking forward to a mission. You've sparked that old fire in my veins, and it feels damn good to be alive again."

I could tell that Canderous was uncomfortable with the thought of expressing gratitude to another person. His eyes darted from left to right, as if he didn't want his reputation sullied by this grave admission. I understood his sentiments perfectly; not long ago, I had similar difficulties acknowledging a dependence on the friendships of others. Meryl and Otacon had to break me from a similar lone-wolf mindset. "Cut the crap, Canderous. We're mercenaries, not lovesick teenagers. If you're still alive after this mission is over, then we can celebrate."

Canderous smiled and nodded emphatically. "I'm looking forward to it. In the meantime, if you want anything done right... be sure to stop by and ask." After that final statement, we both parted our separate ways. Though this clandestine operation required plenty of planning, another thought preoccupied my mind. Earlier, I had decided that I needed to pay a visit to the room of Rikku's boyfriend, Yosuke, and her mentor, Amir. The more connections I developed within Al Bhed, the more leverage I'd acquire to force a meeting with their enigmatic leader. Canderous had the potential to become a dependable ally, but he lacked strong affiliations to the tribe he served. My acquaintanceship with Rikku gave me an obligatory excuse to pay Yosuke and Amir a visit, and those two were respected members of the Al Bhed tribe. I only hoped that these strangers did not share Rikku's compulsions to prattle endlessly on every routine subject imaginable.

As I approached Room 218, I was bitterly reminded of this world's entropic spiral into decay. Long ago, in a forgotten era, this classroom had been filled to the brim with young students eager to learn more of the beautiful world around them. Those were in the days before the plates, back when Midgar was just an aspiring town like any other, with a bright cerulean sky overhead during the day and a thousand stars shining at night. I was not raised in this city, and I did not have anything resembling a normal childhood. Still, as I walked through these damp, dusky corridors, I couldn't help but feel nostalgic for a precious memory that humanity had squandered. Link's corrupt administration and the unrelenting passage of time had colluded to condemn every being, and everyone had paid the price for their transgressions. If Link was allowed to unleash his devastating Mako Gears, even this safehouse in its disgraced state would become nothing more than a pristine memory.

Room 218's wooden door seemed in substantially better shape than most the others in the building. 'Amir Badi al Zaman and Yosuke' was spray-painted over the entrance in bright neon-green. The first name, written in an elegant and exotic cursive, dominated the door, while the second was tucked away beneath it and added only as an afterthought. I took a moment to collect my thoughts and prepared for the inevitable discomfort of an introduction with complete strangers. I clenched my right fist and let it hover for a brief interlude next to the door...

...and promptly heard an ear-splitting THUD emanating from the adjacent wall.

What the hell? The unexpected noise had startled me, and I wondered if there was a hole or some other artifice in the wall. I suspected I was being watched. "Anyone there?" I called out, in a gruff monotone. I received no immediate answer.

THUD. The same exact sound occurred again, just a few moments later. Were Yosuke and Amir engaging in a nasty brawl? Even then, why would either of them punch or kick their wall? If Yosuke and Amir were engaging in some kind of intense combat training, why do so in their bedroom?

There was only one way to satiate my curiosity. I pounded the door to Room 218 three times, in rapid succession, and waited for an answer.

The door creaked open a short distance, and I heard an audible gasp. I did not expect a woman's voice to greet me. "D-David! How's it going?" That bubbly, high-pitched voice was definitely Rikku's. Sure enough, the vivacious teenager burst the door open and beckoned me into her boyfriend's room. It suddenly occurred to me that I might have been interrupting something...serious...between them, so I quickly thought of an escape plan. The last thing I needed was to get caught up in an exorbitantly awkward situation with two lovelorn minors.

"Please, come in, David! Make yourself at home!"

"...Aren't you being a little presumptuous, Rikku? This isn't your..."

"Don't be silly," a masculine voice with a strange foreign accent cut through my complaint like a sharp knife through molded bread. "If you are a friend of Rikku's, you're certainly a friend of mine."

My concerns only deepened upon noticing that Rikku was, in fact, alone in this room with a man who certainly wasn't Yosuke. This man was older, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties, with a copper skin tone that suggested an upbringing in an exotic locale. At the very least, he clearly had not lived long in the sun-deprived slums beneath Termina. His wavy, mocha hair ended just an inch or two above his shoulders, and his goatee had been styled and trimmed to near perfection. There was a certain imperial aura that floated about this man and encompassed his every movement and gesture. His attire was sophisticated and refined compared to the vast majority of denizens in the underworld. His white tunic was ruffled and contained multiple layers of fabric, and each article of his clothing possessed elegant emblems engraved throughout its texture.

His room was also decorated to a relative degree of extravagance. Two mattresses lay on each side, separated by a respectable variety of exotic rugs. There was even a small table nestled in a corner of the room, complete with two wooden chairs. There were a few vases and other objects as well, including an ornate glass hookah pipe. Compared to their fellow tribesmen, the occupants of this classroom were living like princes. Yosuke's eagerness to leave his family behind and move in next door no longer struck me as a surprising development.

"Well...I apologize if I interrupted you..." For poor Yosuke's sake, I sincerely hoped that my first impression was inaccurate.

"No need to worry, friend," said the stranger, his suave, polished voice brimming with confidence. "Rikku and I were just finishing today's lesson."

"Today's lesson?" I asked.

"Yes, David! This is my mentor, Amir! I'm pretty sure I've told you all about him! But, in case you've forgotten..." said Rikku. Well, this was just what I needed. Maybe I could just zone out of consciousness for the next ten minutes or so...

"No need to lecture the old man, mea dovae," Amir cooed. He was undoubtedly well-educated, as I noted that he spoke at least one phrase of the language of the Ancients. The last time I heard that language was nearly a decade ago, while I listened to the philosophical ramblings of an estranged sibling. "My name is Amir Badi al Zaman, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to my humble accommodations. If you'd like some tea..."

"Old man?" I groaned.

"My apologies if I unintentionally offended your sensibilities," said Amir, barely masking his conceit under layers of cultured refinement. "I prefer blunt honesty to a point where I am often misinterpreted as condescending. You are an older man, after all, so the label seemed appropriate."

I had no idea exactly what to make of this man. "You can just call me...David."

"David? A trite name, a bit too mundane...but it fits you well."

"Excuse me?" I barked.

"I'm sorry, D-David..." Rikku muttered. "Amir just likes to put on a show, sometimes. You see, it's his job. And around strangers, he..."

Amir laughed a bit and shrugged his shoulders, appearing to let his guard down. "Rikku! If you share the secrets of my craft with everyone we meet, who will be left to pilfer from?"

"Oh, don't play games with David! Odessa's orders! He's our honored guest! You better not be thinking of stealing anything from him, smart guy, or I'll..."

"...Rikku, Rikku. Can't you see? Look at the man's pockets. Tell me what's inside them," Amir instructed. I sighed and felt somewhat uncomfortable with the nature of Amir's test.

Rikku's spiraled eyes gazed intently at each of my pockets, and her left hand curled against the bottom of her chin. "...I'm so s-sorry, Amir! I can tell there's a few objects in his right pants pocket, but I don't know exactly what..."

"It's not that difficult. He has two packs of cigarettes and a lighter, for starters. The lighter and an unopened pack are in his left pocket, but that's all that's in there. The right pants pocket has his opened pack, a key, and one of those temporary Al Bhed ID cards Odessa likes to issue to our honored guests," said Amir, correctly identifying the items in my possession with a minimal amount of effort. "So, there's nothing worthwhile. No wallet, no wads of gil, no jewelry, no valuables."

"I take it you're a petty thief, then? A most honorable profession," I said, barely restraining the sarcasm from oozing out of my voice.

"It wasn't my first career choice," Amir replied. "But, it's practically the only way to make a living in these disastrous times. So...I've adapted. The Al Bhed have compensated me well for my efforts."

"I'm guessing you're a real smooth operator. A real con artist. The type who sweet-talks his way into the purses of unsuspecting citizens. Is that something you can live with?" I hissed.

"Is it something I could live without?" asked Amir. "If I no longer stole, I would be the one dying of starvation. For that matter, if you're implying that I enjoy watching my marks suffer, you're wrong. Fortunately, most of my marks actually benefit from the experience. They learn the necessity of adequately protecting their possessions. And really, David, in this day and age, a man who would not kill or rape his victims stands among an honorable minority of criminals. You should not slander those who still know to live ethically."

"So, you think comparing yourself to murderers and rapists gives you valid justification to steal? That's some twisted logic."

"You really are clueless, aren't you? Do you think Odessa and Jax would let me steal from innocent men and women? The Al Bhed tribe is trying to recruit those in need. Stealing from the innocent and the impoverished would be counterproductive to our goals. No. I steal only from those few who are wealthy enough to own materials worth taking. These days, that limits my operations to those who work for Vercetti. Maybe a leadership figure with the Necros or the Anthros. And, every once in a very long while, I'll have the opportunity to chase after visitors from Termina. Turks, government officials, military personnel."

Maybe I was being a little harsh on Amir, but his earlier comments had hit a sore nerve. Calling me an 'old man' seemed to be a gross exaggeration, as I wasn't a wrinkled, gray-haired coot just yet. Given that I had been suffering from the effects of advanced aging, this was an especially sensitive topic. "I'm just trying to understand how you justify your line of work. You're the one insinuating you'd steal anything of value from my pockets."

Amir chuckled, mildly amused by my statements. "Not at all. As I said earlier, you are a friend of Rikku's. And you are an honored guest of the Al Bhed. If you're under the impression that I would take anything from you, you've misinterpreted me again. I'm only using you as a guinea pig, a subject for Rikku's training. If she's going to become Al Bhed's next master thief, she'll have to understand the basics of pickpocketing."

Rikku sighed, her melancholy gaze turning towards the floor. "I'm afraid I'll never be quite as great as you, Master Amir."

"With that kind of a rubbish mentality, mea dovae, it's no wonder you've failed so many missions so far. You need to believe in yourself to succeed as a thief. You have the raw talent, the charming personality, and the agility. Yet you lack the most important ingredient...self-confidence."

"So, uhh...I'm guessing Yosuke isn't around?" I asked.

"Oh, n-no, silly! My Yosuke works at Junes most mornings. If you're looking for him, you'd find him at the marketplace," Rikku exclaimed.

"Rikku and I usually fit our training in when Yosuke is working," Amir explained. "It'd be a bit scandalous for Rikku and her boyfriend to spend time together in the same bedroom...you'd be surprised how nasty the Al Bhed rumor mill can be. Though I'm sure at least one of us has contributed to the weekly gossip more often than she should..."

"H-h-hey!" Rikku shouted. "That's not nice, Amir!"

Amir shrugged nonchalantly, his voice reacquiring a bit of its earlier royal pompousness. "My sincere apologies, mea dovae. Again, this is another dastardly manifestation of my brutally honest nature. If you only stopped yourself from spreading such rumors like an over-energetic chatterbox to every other woman in Al Bhed, I'd never make those kinds of comments again. However, so long as you insist on thrusting your tall tales of 'Amir having an affair with a Necro' and 'Amir sleeping with one of Vercetti's seven bodyguards' into the spotlight..."

"H-hey! I told you before, and I'll tell you again! That! Wasn't! Me!" Rikku screeched. "Seriously! I know what you think, but it isn't true! I don't spread those kinds of rumors! I don't care who or what you sleep with!"

"It wasn't you? Rikku, you disappoint me. Who else would possibly have known those succulent little morsels of my personal life?" Amir said, wagging a pointer finger with mock indignation, and revealing his true indifference with a knowing smirk.

"M-maybe you should ask Yosuke! Or somebody else! But I'm not the one responsible! I absolutely, positively promise you that! And, and I just don't know how many more times I have to tell you! I'm innocent!" Rikku began hopping up and down, her fists clenched into slender balls, as if the extra expenditure of energy would help prove her point.

"You two certainly are a unique team," I said. I had a strong inclination that Amir was acting strangely. His behavior seemed contrived, almost as if he was purposely playing a role. Whatever he was really like, he was putting on a show and hiding his true identity. This calm, suave persona seemed predictably stereotypical for a master thief. Rikku had hinted that possibility earlier, but I wondered exactly why this man would build fraudulent walls around himself. Did he simply refuse to trust others, and construct those barriers to keep his friends from knowing his true persona? Was he trying to redeem himself from mistakes made in his past? Or, was he protecting his conscience from the crushing weight of his morally insidious career? To develop any meaningful, deep friendship with this man would require peeling away at those layers and discovering whatever secrets he was hiding.

"Yes, I dare say we're the most formidable thieves history will ever witness," said Amir, with more than a mere trace of sarcasm in his voice. "But before history will have its chance to record our tales of valor, this young girl has to learn her parkour."

"Her parkour?" I questioned. "What are you talking about?"

"You've never heard of parkour?" said Amir. "You're probably too old to master its intricacies. That body of yours wouldn't hold up well when put to the test."

"You'd be surprised," I responded.

"There's a difference between one's natural agility, the kind of speed and acrobatic ability one is born with, and the fine art of parkour," Amir explained. "Anyone can have raw, unprocessed talent to dodge a blow or retreat from a conflict. Parkour is more about a refined approach to every movement you make, a vigorously dissected analysis of the proper way to handle any obstacle in your path. Most men and women view tall fortifications as impassable, and narrow crevices as unbridgeable. Parkour asks its adherents to cast aside the misconceptions and view terrain not as an obstacle, but as an ally. An efficient approach to one's surroundings leads to absolute freedom. As a thief, it is absolutely necessary to hone these talents. Without them, I would have been caught and killed several times over."

Most of Amir's description flew right over my head. "...You lost me."

"Rikku, show him what you've learned today. Do a wall climb to a dyno, and grab the bar," said Amir, pointing up to a silver metallic bar attached to the side of one of the room's walls.

"That's...that's more than twelve feet off the ground," I retorted. This classroom had a high ceiling, and Amir had apparently installed the object as close to the ceiling as he could. "How would she..."

"Show him how it's done, mea dovae," Amir stated, keeping his eyes fixated on the wall Rikku would attempt to climb. I quickly realized that Amir had converted a decent percentage of his room into training space, complete with an open area next to this wall. Presumably, he had repeatedly attempted this very feat. There was just enough space for Rikku to build respectable speed in approaching the wall, assuming that she ran at a particular angle. Still, Rikku was at least six inches smaller than Amir in height. How could she possibly scale such an imposing challenge?

The excitable blonde was nothing if not readily persuaded, and Amir's goading had succeeded in driving her to accept this trial. She backed away into the opposite corner, not far from Yosuke's bed, and began a series of brief stretches, bending down to touch her toes and wriggling her arms in preparation. "Okay! I'm ready! Let's do this!"

"And...you're sure this is safe?" I said.

"Are you kidding?" Amir chortled, stifling a hearty laugh. "Parkour isn't 'safe.' Pickpocketing, looting, burglary...I wouldn't qualify any of those as 'safe,' either. Are you seriously going to suggest that you've never taken a risk in your entire life?"

I tilted my head slightly to one side, expressing a mixture of disdain and bemusement. "I've taken plenty of risks, but I prefer not to take them needlessly. Rikku doesn't need to prove herself to me."

"You don't give her nearly enough credit," Amir retorted. "She may be a young girl, but Rikku is every bit as agile as a cat, and she's certainly more durable than one. She has the scars and bruises to prove it. I'd say she probably has at least a dozen lives left. Do you think I'd train her if she were hopeless? She has the potential for greatness, but it will take thousands of hours of practice for her to reach that level. If she's lucky, she'll scrape by with just a few broken bones."

"I'm ready, Master Amir!" said Rikku, her voice mixed with an unparalleled mixture of enthusiasm and dread. Amir raised a single thumb to the air, and in a single burst of spontaneous energy, Rikku charged the wall. I retreated to the far corner, giving Rikku more than enough berth to test her athleticism. In two concurrent intervals, Rikku jumped off with one leg while the other foot connected with concrete, elevating her several more feet off the ground. Nonetheless, her efforts were futile, as her hand grasped but did not quite the bar above her reach, and she came crashing back to Earth, her landing cushioned by a last-second evasive maneuver that sparked that familiar sound. THUD.

"No! Darn it! I couldn't!" Rikku shouted, with a wounded look in her eyes.

"You're improving, and that's all that matters," said Amir, patting Rikku on the back, an apparent supportive gesture. "Here. Let me show you what you did wrong." I folded my arms and waited patiently through the proceedings, resisting that habitual urge to light a cigarette.

"First, Rikku," Amir instructed, using his own legs as props throughout his demonstration, "You used the right foot to pivot this time, but you strained too much. You placed your pivot foot too high, right about here...which is well above your knees. That kind of a position prevents you from getting the leverage you need to retain traction and power through the move. Secondly, you want only the ball of your foot to receive the contact, and nothing more. You need to be sure to jump off with your dominant leg the exact moment before you pivot. This last time, you were a little off with your timing."

"It's just really tough!" Rikku moaned. "I've scaled an eleven foot wall with a wall run just once before. You can't expect me to handle twelve..."

"Have faith, mea dovae. It will come to you in time," said Amir. "We'll practice more in two days, and you'll continue to improve. Next up will be cat leaps. You'll need to learn to stop using your hands to absorb most the impact from those jumps."

"All right," Rikku responded. "I guess that means practice is over?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Amir noted. "I have to get going. I have an...appointment...at around one today, and I'd prefer not to be late. Of course, since I'll be away, I'll need you both to leave as well. David. It was a pleasure to meet you. On occasion, you can watch Rikku and I train here again. We're even sent out on weekly pickpocketing missions for our tribe. You're welcome to join us and witness masters at the craft."

Amir took a slight bow, then proceeded to rummage through a trove of items next to his bed. He lifted a one-handed scimitar, a curved blade that appeared rusted and dull. The second weapon he took with him seemed a stark contrast to the first. The dagger was a small blade, but it seemed to glow a majestic cerulean hue. Whereas the scimitar was a weapon of common and uninspired design, this dagger seemed impeccable and eternal in its quality.

"You're taking weapons with you?" I inquired. "To an appointment?"

Amir chuckled. "You never know when you may be faced with your own death. When death comes for me, I'll be prepared to fight back."

Amir motioned for Rikku and I to leave Room 218, and once we had exited into the hallway, he emerged and locked the door behind him. "Farewell, friends. David, be sure to keep mea dovae out of trouble."

"Easier said than done."

"Hey! I'll be just fine, thank you very much!"

I felt slightly dissatisfied with my first meeting with Amir. I thought he was withholding important information. Clearly, his 'appointment' really wasn't a traditional meeting amongst friends. Nothing about Amir seemed to add up. Where was he from? Who was he, really? How and why did he become a mere thief for the Al Bhed? Some of the possessions in his room were worth thousands upon thousands of gil. How could he afford such an affluent lifestyle in the underworld? Was he doing work on the side for Vercetti? Or did he have any connections with Link or other high-ranking officials in Termina? The more I thought about all of Amir's incongruities, the less likely it seemed I could trust him. If Amir was really a mole, though...wasn't he acting a bit too obvious? A spy for an opposing faction wouldn't just march into Al Bhed's safehouse with all those riches and expect not to be noticed. Furthermore, despite all of Rikku's minor annoyances, she was a good kid at heart. She was not the type to easily trust enemies.

"David! Are you talking to your friends again?" Rikku said, wagging a finger in mock disappointment. "You shouldn't keep ignoring fine ladies like myself! No sir!"

"No, actually, I haven't used my nanotechnology lately," I replied. "I'm just...thinking things over. A lot has happened already, and we're only barely past midday."

"Hey, I'm free for a while!" Rikku exclaimed, that familiar perky energy boiling through her veins again. "What a surprise! Usually, on training days, I'll have to spend most my time with Amir. Now, I can go visit Yosuke in the marketplace! Oh! Every day's great at your Junes!"

"...Are you...singing?"

"Oh, uhh...yeah, umm...it's the the old theme song! For Yosuke's store! Every day's great at..."

"The world should be thankful you've decided not to pursue a career as a musician."

"D-David! That's just not nice! I have a beautiful voice! Like an angel from heaven! That's what Yosuke says!"

"How would Amir respond? I'd imagine he'd say something like, 'I'm sorry for offending you with my brutal honesty, but it would be far more impolite for me to lie, mea dovae?' That's the answer I'll plead."

"D-D-DAVID!" Rikku barked. "Now you're just being a big, fat, obnoxious meanie!"

"At least I'm not the one calling you his dove. That's not the slightest bit creepy," I muttered under my breath.

"Why is your mind always in the gutter, David? Even Amir appreciates my beauty, but that's all! It's just a generic term for endearment, nothing more. Do you always have to assume the worst in everyone?"

The answer to Rikku's question was yes, of course, but I saw no reason to engage her in an argument. "Sorry. I guess I'm going to have to decide exactly what to do next..."

"I can come with you!" Rikku squealed, practically jumping into my arms. "Come on! It'll be fun! We can go on another adventure!"

I'd almost rather fight Liquid, Mantis, Wolf, Raven, and Ocelot all at once in a Shadow Moses grudge match than deal with this exasperating girl for another moment. Still, if I was going to pursue any leads regarding the Anthros, she'd be much more likely to know where to start and who to ask. Knowing Rikku, though, she'd find some ridiculous way to inadvertently sabotage my efforts. Nonetheless, there was safety in numbers, and it didn't seem like anyone else in Al Bhed was going to agree to undertake a journey with me. There were only three days left until Canderous and I would embark on Operation Philanthropy's first true operation, and the more information I acquired beforehand, the better chance we'd have of success. With that in mind, I needed to make a strategic decision as to where and how to waste the rest of my day.

STATUS:

Weapons: Beretta M9 tranquilizer pistol, six chaff grenades, and six stun grenades.

Social Links:

Level One:
Rikku, Canderous Ordo

Support Links: Phoenix Wright, Hal Emmerich.

DECISION:

How should Snake spend the remainder of his day?

A: Go to the marketplace with Rikku.
B: Go to the marketplace without Rikku.
C: Go to Seventh Heaven with Rikku.
D: Go to Seventh Heaven without Rikku.
E: Ask Rikku for directions to the Anthros' park; travel to the park with Rikku.
F: Ask Rikku for directions to the Anthros' park; investigate the area without Rikku.
G: Attempt to speak with Odessa in Room 101.
H: Ask Rikku where to find Jax Briggs, and attempt to speak with him.
J: Attempt to gain access to Vercetti's headquarters with Rikku.
K: Attempt to gain access to Vercetti's headquarters without Rikku.