25

Regrouping

Wedge sat on the bed, deep in thought, while Hawkson stared out of the window and Biggs paced up and down. Kelling and Piet had retreated to the room next door to confer. Little eddies and currents of thought ran through his head, like swirling dust, making patterns and connections – Tifa's lovely face, her mouth forming words…

"If you ever come to Edge, be sure to drop by Seventh Heaven."

Seventh Heaven–

"I have two orphan children waiting for me back home."

Children without their parents; a child who had discovered Piet's hideout–

"No, we can't go there; that's where the boy will be."

They couldn't stay hidden for long; the boy knew something, Rufus Shinra knew about them… Where had he heard that name before?

"Everyone's heard of Shinra."

"Wedge!"

He looked up, startled. "Sorry, sir."

"This is no time to have your head in the clouds!" Biggs barked. "What were you going to tell me?"

Wedge looked over at Hawkson, still gazing out of the window stolidly, and shook his head. Understanding dawned in Biggs' eyes.

"Hawkson!"

Hawkson jumped to attention. "Sir?"

"Go downstairs to the bar and get us something to drink," said Biggs.

Hawkson nodded. Both men watched him go. It was only after the door closed and they heard Hawkson's heavy footsteps descending the stairs that Biggs sat down next to Wedge.

"Well?"

"I have a confession to make, sir."

Back at Balamb Garden, everyone had congregated in the foyer. Squall's group was the last to arrive; he had been held up by Odine in the parking lot, but with a lot of apologising, reassurance and Xu's firm hand on his back, the scientist had finally been led away to a room to rest.

Cloud and his friends had been talking – or, in Yuffie's case, yelling – but as they approached, five hostile faces snapped around to focus on him. Rinoa took his hand as Irvine slipped away from the throng to join Selphie.

"We've had a bit of a set-back," Squall began. He wasn't allowed to finish.

"I told you!" said Cloud. "I told you we should have headed for the laboratory straight away!"

"I know," said Squall wearily, "but it's too late now; there's no point dwelling on it."

"What're you going to do now?"

"I don't know."

"We have to find the portal," said Cloud. "Get all your SeeDs on it – tell them to comb the area-"

"I can't do that. SeeD has a limited budget. And besides, we don't even know where to start looking."

Cloud remained adamant. "Then we look everywhere. We travel the world if we have to."

His friends all made sounds of agreement.

A crowd of students were beginning to gather around the scene. One of them was brave enough to shout, "Hey, Leonhart! When are we ever gonna get to take the SeeD test?"

"And when is that skiver Instructor Kinneas gonna come back?"

Squall passed his hands over his eyes. "We should discuss this in private. In my office."

"All right," said Cloud. He turned to his friends. "I'll go. The rest of you stay here. I'll see you later, Tifa, okay?"

She nodded.

Ignoring the crowd, Squall met Cloud's eyes. The two men walked up to the elevator together, leaving the rest of the group behind them.

"You did what?"

Biggs' headache had returned to torment him again. The enormity of what Wedge had told him was sinking in – but slowly, reluctantly, like pushing a pin through rubber.

"I have an idea, sir," said Wedge. "Do you remember the time we deserted the army?"

"Yes." He could hardly forget it.

"Kelling bailed us out. But I don't think he can get us out of this. I think we need someone else to bail us out."

"Who?"

"Tifa's friends," said Wedge eagerly. "She lives at Seventh Heaven, that place we passed – if we tell them what happened, I'm sure they'll help us, sir!"

"Help the people who kidnapped their friends in the first place? I think you need to screw your head back on."

"Well, not the boss. But they could help us."

Biggs looked at Wedge and he understood. He had to decide where his loyalties lay – with Kelling, or with Wedge. Truth be told, it wasn't a hard decision.

"I'm with you," said Biggs. "I for one would like to get out of this alive. But how can we get to Seventh Heaven without the boss knowing?"

Wedge gave a sheepish grin. "I'm still thinking about that one, sir."

Being back at Balamb Garden was oddly reassuring for Yuffie. The campus had become familiar to her over the last few days: the clean walkways, the grass, the trees, the still water and the serene atmosphere. She watched the crowd of students being shooed away by Irvine. They were all around her age. They might have been her peers, she thought, if she had been born in this world.

"Now what?" she heard Red XIII ask.

Irvine, who had gone over to whisper something to Selphie, looked up and stepped forward.

"Say, while we're waiting, I know something we haven't done." Irvine was looking mainly at Tifa as he spoke.

"What's that?" Tifa asked.

"I promised to give you a proper tour, remember? How about it?"

"We'll give you all a tour," Selphie corrected, hanging on to Irvine's arm. "And Irvine isn't going to show you his shower, are you, Irvy?"

Irvine grinned. "Not unless you want me to."

"Perv," said Selphie, but she was grinning too.

She doesn't seem to mind his flirting at all, Yuffie thought. Just then, she practically encouraged it. People sure do like weird things in other people.

It was purely by coincidence that her eyes strayed to Seifer at that moment. He was leaning against the side of the noticeboard, watching them with his eyes half-closed. Yuffie returned her attention to the group around her as Selphie asked her a question.

"What?"

"I said, do you wanna come?" said Selphie patiently.

"Oh. Nah, I think I'll pass. You already gave me the grand tour, remember?"

"Okay!" said Selphie brightly. "See ya later!" She winked at Yuffie before waving her arms at the group in general. "C'mon, everyone – this way!"

Tifa touched her arm and smiled as she passed by. "See you," she murmured. Nobody seemed surprised that she had turned down their offer; in fact, she was disquieted to notice Red XIII turning his head back to give her a knowing look. He said nothing, but her stomach flipped. Then he padded after the rest of the group and they were gone.

Yuffie was left alone in the foyer. Well, not alone. She put her hands on her hips and faced the man still leaning against the noticeboard, watching her with a glint in his eyes.

"Not walking off this time, huh?"

"I will if you want me to."

There was a pause. Then: "I'm still mad at you," said Yuffie.

"And I'm still mad at you."

"Thing is," she said, speaking fast in her effort to explain herself, "I thought I was leaving, you know? And it's like making friends with someone when all you really wanna do is nab their materia. You only get close for a second, just so you can snatch it away and then you never see them again."

"Are you saying you only wanted to nab my materia?" Seifer asked, amused.

"No! Gawd, how'd you make that sound dirty?"

"You said it first."

"No, no," she said, though she was grinning, because it seemed like Seifer was back to his old self again. "No, what I meant was-"

"I know what you meant. I guess I shouldn't have been so angry."

She knew at once that this was the closest she would get to an apology. And he had said it first, so now she no longer felt reluctant to reconcile.

"Yeah, well, I did kind of stand you up." She poked him in the chest. "I bet that bruised your ego."

He placed his hand over his heart and put on an expression of mock sorrow. "Damn near crushed it."

She laughed.

"But since you might be stuck here for a while," Seifer continued, "might as well make the most of it. How about a taste of Garden life?"

"If you mean classes, Seifer, no way, nuh-uh. I'm not doing your homework for you."

"No, I don't mean that. But you could try joining the Disciplinary Committee – only 'til you piss off back home, of course."

"I thought I was on the list."

"List of potential members," said Seifer, and she laughed again.

"You had your eye on me that long, huh?"

"Come on," he said. "Come and meet the posse."

After the crowd in the foyer, Squall's office was blessedly empty and silent. He felt like he could think here; it was his own private space. The regular ticking of the clock soothed him. Leaning against his desk, he found that he could face Cloud in a calmer frame of mind, and his breathing slowed.

"So you want to go out and search for the portal, right?"

"Yes," said Cloud, "but we don't know this world like you. We'd be lost."

Squall understood what he was saying. Cloud was asking for their help. He sighed. Was it wrong of him to feel put upon? Couldn't someone take responsibility off him for a change? He was still a teenager; he didn't want all this pressure.

"I can't spare you many SeeDs," he said. "We've already wasted a lot of time and effort without any pay-"

Cloud made a derisive sound. "Payment, is that all you care about?"

Squall's calm had quickly evaporated. His fingers tightened around the edge of his desk. "I could just throw you out and make you find your way home yourselves," he hissed. "I don't care about any of you; you don't belong here and I want you gone as fast as possible."

Cloud folded his arms, his voice hard. "I used to be like you, Squall. I pretended that I didn't care; that I was only interested in the pay packet. You live life cold like that, your heart goes cold too."

"Don't tell me how I feel," Squall snapped.

Cloud merely looked at him, his face expressionless, but his eyes were piercing. It made Squall feel ashamed. He hadn't meant it, about not caring. He cleared his throat to hide his discomfort.

"Anyway," he said, "the point is that we have limited resources. We need to think and plan carefully. Irvine and Selphie can help you, since they've been part of this mission from the start. But that's all the help I can spare."

"What about Seifer?"

"Seifer…" He couldn't help scowling as he said it. But Seifer was part of this and Squall had promised to promote him if he saw this mission through. And at least a field mission would keep him out of the way, give him something to do – sometimes Squall wondered what his old rival did with his time at Balamb Garden. Seifer always seemed to be most alive when he was confronting something – whether a rival, a monster, or dangerous territory. No wonder he had been so happy in the training centre. "Yes," he said, "we can spare Seifer."

Cloud raised an eyebrow sardonically, but didn't comment.

"I should speak to General Caraway," Squall went on. "Maybe he'll have an idea about where Kelling is hiding."

Hawkson returned a couple of minutes later with bottles in hand, complaining about the terrible service. His timing was unfortunate, however, because Kelling and Piet entered the room at almost exactly the same moment.

"Drinks?" Piet's eyes lit up. "Ah, thank you, man, my throat is parched after all this talk."

And he took a bottle before any of the soldiers could say anything. Hawkson stood helplessly clutching the last two bottles, unsure what to do. His small eyes flicked between Biggs and Kelling.

"Put them down," said Kelling, indicating the dresser. "You can drink later."

Hawkson obeyed, casting a sullen glance at Piet, who was smacking his lips with relish.

"Here's what we're going to do," Kelling continued. "Wedge, I want you to go back through the portal and inform the scientists to be ready to transport one Rufus Shinra, along with everyone else, tomorrow afternoon, when I give the signal."

Wedge's eyes widened. "You're going to kidnap him, sir?"

"Correct. Shinra may think he has the upper hand, but I shall prove him wrong. And I won't repeat the same mistakes we made with Cloud and Tifa."

The conversation with Caraway had not been a great success. Caraway, unsurprisingly, blamed SeeD for their failure to capture Kelling and the portal before it had been moved. Squall had been forced to endure some scathing criticism, which was particularly embarrassing in front of Cloud. The only good thing was that Caraway had agreed to pay SeeD if they did manage to catch him. Normally contracts were signed beforehand and fees paid upfront, but SeeD's recent failure had obviously decreased Caraway's confidence in them.

"Do you have any ideas where he might be?" Squall had asked.

"No. I doubt he will have left the continent, as we're monitoring all the ports, but apart from that your guess is as good as mine."

Shortly after that, they said their goodbyes and the call ended. Squall leaned back and his hand slipped on a pile of unfinished reports. Attempted assassinations created a hell of a lot of paperwork.

Cloud's mouth twitched. "A whole continent, huh? I guess that narrows it down a little."

"Yeah."

A second later, he realised that Cloud had been cracking a joke. He thought about smiling or chuckling in response, but it was a bit late for that. To cover his embarrassment, he picked up the papers and shuffled them, looking down. Cloud seemed uncomfortable too; he shifted his balance from one foot to the other. The silence stretched. Both of them decided to fill it at the same time:

"Anyway, I-"

"Well, looks like-"

They broke off. Cloud's eyes dropped; he looked even more uncomfortable. It was up to Squall to ease the tension between them, he thought. Whether he liked it or not, he felt responsible for these strangers – they were here because of Rinoa, and she was his first responsibility. He tried to imagine what Rinoa would have wanted him to say.

"I'm sorry that we were too late," he said quietly.

Cloud looked back up at him and his face softened. "It's okay. At least we're all alive, and Tifa's safe."

He mentions Tifa a lot, Squall thought. Maybe she's the person who got him to open up, to show that he cared. How do women do that?

"Anyway, you can stay for the time being, if you want," he went on. "You might be stuck for a while…"

"Yeah. At least Yuffie will be happy; she's made a few friends here."

"Don't get comfortable," Squall warned him. "Don't get close, because when you leave that'll only make it harder."

But Cloud shook his head. "I know why you say that," he said, "and it's true, but…" He sighed. "No, you probably don't want to talk about it."

"You think you understand me, is that it? What makes you think that?"

"Because like I said, you remind me of myself." Cloud regarded him steadily. "Don't shut people out. I made that mistake. When you push people away, you miss out on a lot. If you've got a chance of happiness, you should grab on to it, enjoy it while you can, even if it doesn't last long. Otherwise all you're left with are regrets."

He spoke from experience, Squall could tell. "Well, I'll consider that," he said.

"All right." Cloud made as if to go.

"Wait."

He turned back, his shoulder armour and buckles clanking slightly. For perhaps the first time, Squall looked at him and didn't see a killer. He saw a warrior, strong and capable, with a determined light in his eyes. The kind of man you would be glad to have at your back in a fight.

"I hope that we can be friends," said Squall stiffly.

Cloud smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

"Ready?" Kelling asked.

Wedge saluted. "I'll sort things out on our side, sir," he said. He gave Biggs a significant look as he said this, and Biggs nodded.

"Good."

And then Kelling pressed the resonator, activating the signal, and Wedge vanished, leaving only the trace of a smile.

Yuffie had managed to forget about their situation for the time being. She was having fun. They had strolled around Balamb Garden, intimidating students and generally acting like they owned the place. But she sensed that Seifer was becoming restless when he started to swing his sword around.

"Let's go to the training centre – make it a sparring competition."

Yuffie grinned. "You're on!"

"Hey, we're not armed," said Raijin. "Bit unfair, ya know?"

"Go and arm yourselves, then," said Seifer. "I'll be waiting at the training centre."

Raijin and Fujin nodded. As Seifer strode off, Yuffie hesitated.

"Do you always do what he says, just like that?" she asked. Not once had she seen them question anything Seifer said.

Fujin turned her unblinking, one-eyed gaze on Yuffie. Her stare was disapproving. She hadn't spoken at all since they had been introduced and she didn't look as though she was about to now. It was left to Raijin to answer her.

"Not always. But it's best not to argue with Seifer. He always chooses his own path, ya know?"

"And you follow him?"

"That depends. Sometimes he wants to do his own thing, ya know?"

"Then what?"

Raijin shrugged. "What's it matter to you?"

"Yuffie!"

She snapped her head around; Seifer had called her. He had stopped to lounge against the barrier that marked the edge of the walkway.

"Gonna follow him?" Raijin asked, grinning.

She stuck her tongue out at him before she turned and ran to catch back up with Seifer.

"Ah," said Quistis, "so you're the man who tried to kill me."

From her very first words, she had caught Cloud off-guard. It had been Tifa's suggestion that they visit Quistis in the infirmary and he had agreed at once. His expression contrite, he opened his mouth to apologise, but she waved a hand still attached to a drip. "Don't worry about it. It happens."

Some of his dubiousness must have shown on his face because Quistis gave him a tired smile and said, "No, really, I mean it. Sometimes it's inevitable that our paths will cross; it's the nature of things."

"Is that what they teach you here?" Tifa asked. She was sitting in the visitor's chair next to him, holding his hand. Her warm and solid presence gave him support.

"It's what I learned. I remember when we all first got our driving licenses. Everyone used to complain about traffic wardens; they were considered the scum of the earth. But I never begrudged them. After all, they're only doing their jobs. You can't blame someone for that."

"You can blame them for choosing that job," Cloud said.

She shrugged her good shoulder. "Who knows? Perhaps they didn't have a choice. I don't think I ever knew anybody who wanted to be a traffic warden when they grew up. Did you dream of becoming an assassin?"

"No… I wanted to be a SOLDIER though… I suppose that's close enough. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Defending your country is a noble profession," said Quistis. "I always respect soldiers for that, whether enemy or ally." She grinned crookedly. "You're not the first person to try and kill me."

Her sense of humour caught Cloud slightly off-guard too. He found himself smiling back at her. He felt immediately that Quistis was someone he could respect, and a new sense of relief that she had survived surged over him.

"So when are you going back to your own world?" she asked.

He sighed. "We don't know." He explained their situation. "We're going to organise another search party tomorrow. I think we'll scour Caraway City first… Squall said he knew some Galbadian SeeDs who might be willing to help us."

"I wish I could help you organise. I'm good at that."

"You're very forgiving," said Tifa.

Quistis smiled. "But so are you. It's not worth holding a grudge now, is it?"

He looked at her smooth, calm face, framed by long blonde hair. She seemed so tranquil. Maybe she's right, he thought.

Fully armed, the four of them strolled into the training centre. But their practice battle was not to be, as they were distracted by an encounter with Vincent and Irvine. The two gunmen were standing in the middle of a wide clearing. It looked as though the area had already been emptied of monsters.

"I'd say I have two specialties," Irvine was saying to Vincent. "Guns – and women. What about you?"

"...Guns."

Yuffie sniggered as Irvine turned around and noticed them.

"Hi," he said.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously. She looked around. An array of empty potion bottles stood on the railing of a bridge some distance away. The dim light sparkled off the glass. Yuffie squinted; she counted twenty – no, twenty four. Each bottle looked about the size of her fingernail from where she was standing.

"We've just set up," said Irvine. "We're going to have a little shooting contest, you see. Twelve rounds each, one for every bottle." He pointed at the bridge again; this time Yuffie noticed that there was a gap in the middle, so that the bottles were spread out evenly on each side.

"Right, I see," said Yuffie. She glanced at Seifer. "Wanna watch?"

"All right," said Seifer. "Take a bet on who'll win?"

Yuffie grinned. "Yeah, go on then. I'm betting on Vincent!"

As they spoke, Vincent had been loading his gun. He looked up briefly. "A wise choice."

"Hey, hey, hey," said Irvine. "What's this, no confidence in Garden's best sharpshooter?"

"You don't know Vincent," said Yuffie. "He once blew a wasp that was attacking me out of midair."

"A wasp?"

"Yeah, a wasp! They're bugs of pure evil. The nasty bugger would have stung me if it weren't for Vincent!"

"My finest hour," said Vincent dryly.

"Really?" Seifer looked at Vincent appraisingly. "All right, I'll take vampire boy here over Garden's best failed instructor. Fujin? Raijin?"

Fujin pointed at Irvine.

"Thanks," said Irvine, smiling.

"Raijin?"

"Uh… I dunno, ya know?"

Fujin stamped on Raijin's foot. His uncertain expression vanished; he squawked and cried, "Irvine! I'll bet on Irvine!"

"Good," Seifer said. "Five hundred gil each, all right?"

They nodded. The bet agreed upon, the four of them settled down comfortably to watch the contest. Yuffie sat down and crossed her arms over her legs, taking in the earthy smell, the humid atmosphere of the indoor jungle. She remembered that terrible night she had broken Cloud in through here – somehow the jungle had seemed much more forbidding that night: dark shadows, creeping shapes, the constant sense of otherness. It felt much friendlier now.

Vincent stood on the left of the clearing, furthest away from Yuffie. He was ready. There was a click as Irvine finished loading his gun, then he looked at Yuffie and grinned.

"Say, Yuffie, how about if I win, I take you out tonight?"

Yuffie raised her eyebrows. "You mean like a date?"

"Yeah."

She felt Seifer stiffen beside her and gave him a warning nudge. "Sure, I'll take that bet," she said. "It won't matter 'cause you won't win anyway."

"Wow, you're hard to please. Well, let me show you." He turned to Vincent. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Both gunmen faced the bridge and raised their guns. Fujin counted down for them.

"THREE… TWO… ONE… GO!"

The air filled with the crack of gunshots. Yuffie associated that noise with battle; it made her breath quicken and sent her heart rate pounding. She sprang up excitedly and peered through the trees – several bottles had already exploded, sending glass shards sparkling into the air. Crack – another bottle down; she couldn't tell who had hit the most. She glanced at Vincent. He looked completely composed, firing shot after shot in quick succession with the slightest precise sideways movement as he aimed at each bottle in turn. Irvine was slower; as she watched, Vincent fired his last bullet and lowered his arm. Irvine held his gun in both hands, squinting as he took aim and then pulled the trigger. He stopped shooting a second after Vincent.

For a moment, there was a silence that Yuffie could not hear, because her ears were ringing with the sound of the gunshots. Faint curls of smoke drifted through the air, accompanied by an acrid smell. Then she caught a glimpse of a familiar patch of red. Red XIII padded across the bridge, sniffing at the remains of the bottles.

Irvine's voice filtered through to her ears. "Red'll tell us who's won."

Indeed, as he spoke, Red bounded through the undergrowth and up the path towards them, much faster than any human could run. He slowed down to a trot as he approached them.

"I see you have an audience."

"Go on then, tell us!" said Yuffie. "Who won?"

Red paused to clean his whiskers with a paw. Everyone had gathered around him by now – even Raijin and Fujin looked curious to see him close up.

"Vincent scored eleven out of twelve bottles," said Red. "They were all smashed, but he missed one of them – it must have been knocked over by the other bottles exploding."

Seifer whistled. "Eleven out of twelve. That's good, vampire boy. Should be enough to beat Irvine."

Vincent's face had twitched at the phrase 'vampire boy', but otherwise he didn't respond.

"And Irvine…" Red continued. "Irvine scored ten out of twelve-"

He was drowned out at that point by Yuffie's loud whoop. She punched the air, crowing in triumph. Seifer was similarly jubilant – grinning, he held up his hand and they high-fived. Even Vincent allowed himself a small smile as Raijin and Fujin grumpily promised to hand over the money later.

"I told you Vince would win!" said Yuffie to a crestfallen Irvine.

"You were making me nervous," he complained. "All of you watching me… I lost my focus."

She scoffed. Seifer nudged her and said, "See, Irvine can't perform when anyone's watching…"

They both sniggered at Irvine who was showing signs of beginning to lose his composure. Vincent shot both of them a cold look and then he turned to shake Irvine's hand.

"Ignore them," he said. "The most important thing for a sharpshooter is to keep his focus. Becoming distracted in battle can be fatal."

Irvine looked taken aback at Vincent's solemn tone before he fell into his usual lazy smile. "I can't help that I get distracted by cute girls."

This time Yuffie had to forcibly grab Seifer's hand to pull him back. His anger was palpable. Vincent looked around, his gaze drifting from Fujin to Yuffie. His eyes came to rest on Yuffie's hand curled around Seifer's and she let go of him as though his hand had scalded her, feeling her face turn hot. Vincent raised one eyebrow very slightly.

"A skilful fighter doesn't allow himself to be distracted by anything," he said. "Even… cute girls."

Irvine shrugged, seemingly unaware of the tension he had provoked. "Sure, but what good is the life of a fighter without a cute girl to come home to?"

"Did you both just call me cute?" Yuffie asked. This was even better than winning five hundred gil.

"Sure did," said Irvine, grinning.

At that point, two people snapped, one of them expected and the other rather unexpected. Seifer strode forward, fists clenched and his face an inch from Irvine's.

"All right, Kinneas, you're walking on a very fine line here, you know? Selphie's the only one you actually got laid with, so why don't you stop bothering everyone else and go screw her?"

As the colour slowly drained from Irvine's face, someone else seemed to be acquiring it. Spots of fury appeared on Fujin's cheeks.

"DON'T I COUNT?"

"Excuse me," said Red. They all glanced down at him, startled. Yuffie had almost forgotten he was there. "The level of testosterone here is making my nose itch. Are we done?"

"Only if Seifer apologises," said Irvine, his voice cold. "You have no right to insult my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend, is she? Yeah, right. You don't treat her with enough respect to be your girlfriend."

Yuffie looked between the two of them, both tall, both righteously angry, and her heart swelled with pride for Seifer. She had heard all about Irvine's shenanigans and thought it was about time that he was called out for them.

Irvine was trembling. "Don't you lecture me about respect."

"I'm too much of a scumbag for you, huh? Well, let me tell you this, from scumbag to scumbag. If Selphie was my girlfriend, I would never, ever look twice at another girl. I'd treat her with the respect she deserves. I'm better than you. How does that feel?"

Yuffie squeezed Seifer's arm, to show her approval. Everyone had ignored Fujin's outburst, leaving Raijin to deal with her; he was talking to her in a low voice a little way away. The focus of everyone else was on Irvine, from Vincent's blank gaze, to Seifer's sneer and Yuffie's glare. He obviously sensed that the overall mood was against him, because he backed away and dropped his eyes.

"I'm not having this conversation," he muttered. He shoved past them all, head down and hurried towards the exit. For a few seconds, there was silence, as they watched him go, his slim figure soon swallowed up by the dense jungle.

Vincent shook his head. "Another world and the relationships are still just as tangled."

For the second time that day, Wedge woke up feeling sick and dizzy. It felt as though all the atoms in his body had gone askew, and they rattled, jarring this way and that, in their attempt to readjust.

"Urgh…" he groaned.

"Subject recovering," said Kyme's voice.

"Come on, get up," said another, much more impatient voice. Blearily, he sensed Holt haul him to his feet.

"Thanks," he muttered. He had thought there was a whirring noise in his head, but something in his perception shifted and he realised it was the humming of the computers. Of course, all the machinery was still running, with the scientists to monitor it.

"So what is it?" Holt asked. "What did he send you back for?"

"A message… I have a message…"

"What message?"

Wedge explained as best as he could. Kyme watched him, gnawing at his pencil like a rat. Holt paced up and down and fired question after question at him.

"He wants us to transport them all back? Simultaneously?"

Wedge nodded. His head was starting to clear.

"And where are they transporting from?"

"From the new Shinra building. It's on the outskirts of Edge."

"How far is that from Seventh Heaven?"

Wedge had to think about that, which didn't do his head any good. "I'm not sure – half a mile, maybe three quarters of a mile?"

"Half a mile!"

"The edge of Edge," said Kyme, and snickered.

Holt stopped his pacing and glared at them both. "It's out of range! Out of range! What the hell is he thinking?"

"Well, can't you reset the co-ordinates?" Wedge suggested.

"It isn't that simple! Look, I used to work for Odine – the guy's a genius. He's the one who set this program up. I'm just the lab assistant – I can use the program, but changing it? I haven't a goddamn clue what would happen; for all I know, it might implode."

Wedge shrugged. "I'm only passing along a message, sir. Those were his orders."

"Holy shit."

"What to do?" Kyme asked. The end of his pencil had been all but nibbled away by now.

"I don't know, I don't know – we'll just have to try – if I can set up a duplicate program on another computer, I can mess around with it without disturbing the main terminal-"

"Get a working code-"

"If there is one. God, we've only got twelve hours-"

The two scientists bent their heads together, deep in frantic conversation. They took no more notice of Wedge. It was the ideal opportunity to slip away. Looking around, he caught the eye of a solitary guard by the door. The guard had a cigarette, and the smoke and the red light hazed over his face. Wedge walked over shakily; the smell of the smoke made him feel sick again.

"Wedge," the guard grunted. "So what was Esthar like?"

"It disagreed with me."

The guard grunted again, looking at Wedge's pale face. "I can see that."

"I think I need some rest. They said that the sickness wears off after a while."

"Good luck."

Wedge smiled at him as he slipped through the door. He hurried along the metal walkway. There was a side door not far ahead which led outside to where the vehicles were parked. The facility had long since been abandoned; only the main control room had functioning power, and it was eerie to tiptoe along in the half darkness, listening to the creaking of disused pipes and the faint humming of the power cables.

When good, honest sunlight streamed into his face, Wedge breathed in the air of his own world happily. The dust of the desert, the rolling gold of the plains and the chalk-coloured stripes of the sky all glowed softly in the evening sun. The sight lifted his heart; he felt better about what he was going to do.

Turning from the sight of the Galbadian plains, he saw two identical military trucks parked on the concrete. The gates had gone, destroyed in an explosion over a year ago, when the missile base had been closed down, but the road which led into the plains was still there. Although a few weeds poked up through the concrete, it remained perfectly serviceable.

Wedge glanced around but saw no guards. He climbed up into the first truck and was delighted to find the key had been left in the ignition. His sluggish brain reminded him that he ought to sabotage the other vehicle, just in case they saw him and chased after him. So Wedge got out, his heart thumping, and slashed the tyres awkwardly with his sword. He removed the key from the ignition as well, and slipped it into his pocket. That took around three minutes; too long for Wedge, whose palms were beginning to sweat. He wondered if he should have staged a more convincing disappearance, like faking his death, but there was no time; it would have to do.

He climbed into the second truck and slung his scabbard onto the back seat. This was it: all he had was a stolen truck, his sword, and the clothes he wore. Feeling drunk with fear, sickness and excitement, Wedge started the engine and drove away.