Chapter 8: Fulcrum
Summary: An accident with the Lifestream gives Reeve new perspective, and just in time. With AVALANCHE in ShinRA's custody, Reeve needs all the perspective-and help from former Turks-he can get.
Author's Note: I really enjoyed fleshing out and writing some different characters, including a special former Turk! Appreciate your readership, as always feel free to comment, and please enjoy!
Falling yet floating, too. What's the word fer it?—Cait Sith's head felt foggy in his search for the right word. Och—sinking.
Sinking through emerald muck growing darker with the depths. Pressure on his body weighed heavy, his limbs paralyzed and unmoving. He supposed any normal person in such a state would have drowned by now. How fortunate to make it this far. Still, the problem remained—Cait Sith could not swim.
A fact he perhaps should have considered before jumping.
In his current state, his stomach flipped with the realization he would not complete his objective after all. There was no sight of Cloud anywhere.
...How long would it take to drown? Surely Cait Sith couldn't sink forever. How long then, would he be down here before he finally stopped? Alone.
You're not alone. Reeve's voice sounded warm, yet weary. I'm here with you until the end.
And yeh can survive that? Cait Sith felt a thrill of fear. What if yeh can't? If you go, there's no comin' back for me!
He could feel Reeve's fear, too. Yet the cat was not prepared when his creator finally responded: I'm proud of you.
What for?
Trying to save Cloud. It was courageous.
I agree!
A joyful voice rang through the Lifestream. A joyful, familiar voice. Reverberating in his head, it lifted his spirits.
Aerith!?
Fancy meeting you here. Aerith's voice—seemingly her very essence—enveloped him and with it brought a sense of peace he couldn't ever remember feeling in his whole life.
You can hear me?
So it seems. Did she sound amused?
But—but why are yeh here?
You already know why I'm here, she said, voice now sad.
N-no, I meant—how?
I'm not sure how. He imagined the confused look that would have been on Aerith's face, if she had a body anymore. I only know my soul swims the Lifestream now. And I noticed that you were somewhere you should not be.
Tha's one way of puttin' it.
Was this actually happening? Or was this a figment of Cait Sith's imagination in his final, fleeting moments, mind poisoned by mako? No, this warmth he felt—it was undeniably Aerith.
Somewhere across their mindlink, Reeve sank heavy onto the couch, seeming drained of energy.
I had to try to save him—Cloud.
I know. And your efforts won't be in vain. I'll make sure to take care of him. At this, the fear gripping his heart unclenched. I'm proud of you, Cait Sith. You were brave. You both were.
You...do you know who I am?
Reeve, isn't it? I've seen you before, around ShinRa Headquarters. Always working late.
That's—that's right. Reeve's thoughts bounced around their shared mindspace in a jumbled mess. I'm so sorry, Aerith. I should have done more to help you. I should have stopped them.
I don't hold it against you. The essence around him tightened, as if squeezing him in a hug. They marveled at her. How could she not hold a grudge?
Because I know you're going to make it up to me. They could hear the cheek in her grin.
I promise not ta let yeh down.
And you'll keep that promise?
They stalled. As much as Reeve and Cait Sith wanted to reassure, their mind drifted to Rita. Hadn't Reeve made so many promises to her of late? Had he kept those?
He felt pressure of his chest, as if a warm hand had been placed over his heart.
Hey. This time, let me give you a fortune, huh?
A fortune?
Yes.
...Alright.
"You already know the answer to the questions lingering in your heart."
Neither Reeve nor Cait Sith knew how to reply. Aerith seemed to understand as much, not requiring any.
Now, you need to get back, Reeve. I don't think being exposed to mako in this way is good for you. Let me help.
Thank you, Aerith.
Reeve stalled, a question forming in his mind, but Aerith's fortune echoed, and so the question remained unasked. Instead he said, You'll need to shut down Cait Sith. Can you...finish it for me?
Are you sure?
Yes. It's what needs to be done.
Alright. I will.
Relief flooded his being. I can't thank you enough.
There is something you can do for me.
What?
Take my advice: if you have something good in your life, don't let it go!
Cait Sith felt the mechanism in his mind turning, the link between him and creator muting as Aerith whispered, Oh—and your lucky color is pink.
Reeve awoke, his body heavy as he adjusted to dim light. Orange beams peeped through a slim crack in the drapes. He tried to move, but a weight pressed heavy upon him. As he looked down, he registered red hair.
Laid upon his chest and still sound asleep—Rita. He vaguely recalled the previous night and her desperate efforts to shake him, still stupefied from mako vapors, awake. At the time, Reeve could hardly keep straight the turn of events that led to Aerith disrupting the mindlink and freeing him from the Lifestream's hold—never mind share them with Rita.
Now though, the conversation played itself out again in his mind. Everything seemed clearer. Without Cait Sith the Second, Reeve's sensory input readjusted, his brain no longer sizzled from over-stimulation. A hollow victory, all said. Now, Reeve didn't know what happened to Cloud or the others.
Rita stirred beneath him, and his heart thumped so loud he feared it would wake her. She'd stayed all night. He wondered how long she'd laid awake with worry for him.
Guilt stabbed Reeve's heart—despite his best intentions, he kept doing this to her. It was no way to treat the lass, who's devotion seemed every day more undeserved. He thought about Aerith's fortune to him: "You already know the answer to the questions lingering in your heart."
He loved Rita—why bother denying. On the question of her feelings, well...wasn't Aerith right? Reeve did know the answer. The answer lay right here as Rita slept upon him, pressed against his heart. She hadn't betrayed him to the political games of her own grandfather and Rufus. Instead, she'd stayed at his side through everything. The real question was not what her feelings were, but how could he ever be worthy of them?
She stirred again and this time Rita's eyes opened, catching his gaze. "You're awake!" She started, color rising in her face. "I'm so sorry!" As she sat up she tried smoothing out her jacket, rumpled from sleep.
"It's alright. You have nothing to apologize for."
Disbelievingly, she pressed her palm to his chest, scanning him up and down, concern etched in her face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay. And now, it's my turn to apologize. I'm so sorry to worry you. Again."
"What happened to you? It looked like—" she bit her lip—"like you had mako poisoning."
So she'd been able to actually see the effects of the Lifestream exposure? Reeve's skin prickled. It had been worse than he'd realized. If Aerith hadn't helped...
Fear must have shown in his face, because Rita inched closer and asked, "What is it?"
"I'll tell you. But it might be...hard to hear."
Rita said nothing; her face remained unchanged. She merely nodded, and Reeve began.
"Cait Sith is more than a robot. He's autonomous, but I also am able to control him...with my mind." Rita's eyes widened, but she didn't interrupt him, so Reeve continued. "We're linked, so everything he feels, I feel, and the opposite. That includes when he's damaged..."
Rita's eyes shone with understanding. "Or destroyed." And then her expression changed. "What happened to Cait Sith?"
"He fell into the Lifestream."
"Then he's—"
"Gone." Reeve choked with emotion, surprising himself. "Again." Rita placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry." She seemed to struggle to form her thoughts. "He—he drowned?"
"Something like that."
"Oh." Rita sat, pondering. "No one else in ShinRa knows about this, do they?"
Always so quick on the uptake. Reeve admired that about her, even if she didn't have the whole picture just yet. "That's right. Only Rufus is aware of Cait Sith, but even he doesn't understand how it actually works."
"How does it actually work?"
Reeve stalled. How could he possibly explain it? As if that mattered. He owed her an explanation.
"I'll show you—later. For now, there's something else you need to know."
"What?"
Reeve told her all he remembered, about the Northern Crater and the earthquake and AVALANCHE splitting off to who knew where. "I'm not entirely sure what happened. But I think it was Sephiroth. He must have manipulated Cloud into giving him the materia, and then he used it. And now, Cloud is missing, and the others..."
"Are in the Executives' custody. Are they coming back here to Midgar?"
"I don't know." Reeve frowned. He hadn't gotten any news directly from Rufus or anyone else about the events of the Northern Crater—at least, not thus far. "Either way, we're going to need to find them."
"How?"
"I'll need a new Cait Sith." Reeve stood, Rita rising next to him. "Which means we have to get to work."
"Right away, sir."
Rita crossed and opened the curtains. Then, she gasped. Alarmed he hurried over, eyes following as she pointed out the window.
Overhead, ominous and burning red in the sky, a meteor descended slowly.
Reeve didn't wonder long where the Executives planned to retreat. A message from Rufus saying, "Your assistance is require. Meet in Junon," arrived within the hour. Knowing better than to press for answers, Reeve tried not to look at the glowing ball of fire in the clouds.
Instead he turned to Rita. "Will you come with me to Junon?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
He couldn't help his grin. "I thought it polite. Here," Reeve motioned her toward his workstation, "I promised you." He pulled from the desk his only remaining Cait Sith.
Nerves dancing, he waved her even closer and she approached his side. She stood silent, the image a of studious pupil as she stared intently at his creation.
Overcoming his anxieties, Reeve brought his fingers to gently swipe across the doll-cat's metal crown. He focused on the smooth gold beneath his fingertips and the metallic whisper drawn from the drag of his nails. He connected with the machine, feeling its parts grind to life at the whim of his magic, glimmering white where skin seared machine. Deep in his mind he felt the familiar tether, the dual-mind clicking into place. A jumble of memories and information uploaded into the nascent brain, and in return Reeve felt a blast of emotions, raw and unfiltered. Adjusting their sensory exchange, he reveled a moment in the return of his creation, feeling whole again.
Satisfied, Reeve stepped back. Cait Sith leapt to his feet. And Reeve finally looked at his assistant.
Rita stood frozen, mouth gaping and clearly lost for words. Reeve himself couldn't find any to spare. Finally she smiled widely, shocking him.
"That looked like magic!"
"Tha's a good word fer it," Cait Sith laughed before Reeve could speak.
"I don't know about that," he cut in quick to temper expectations. "I have a special ability to manipulate machinery, to bring it to life." To his astonishment, Rita looked neither perturbed nor dismayed by his revelation. Instead, she looked positively giddy, kneeling down next to the cat to scratch his ears, who appreciated her attention eagerly. Then, she snapped to look at him, eyes widening with epiphany.
"The reactors?"
He hesitated yet relented—no point in lying. "Also under my control—though obviously they aren't as...alive as some other creations. But my ability certainly helped in their design."
"Incredible!" Then a thoughtful expression crossed her face. "I can see why you wouldn't want the rest of the Board knowing."
"Right." He anticipated what she would next ask. "They would be curious about it, but it's not something I can really explain. I've had it since I was a child. I don't understand the first thing about it. But I do know that I'd really rather not let Hojo a chance to find out more."
Rita grimaced, nodding in understanding. She obviously had more questions, but they remained unvoiced. Instead, she turned her attention back to Cait Sith, smiling at him and patting his head. "So, off to Junon, then?"
"Junon?" Cait Sith perked. "We're takin' a trip?"
"That's right," Reeve grinned, grabbing his black bag from the workstation and holding it open. "You know the drill."
Reeve departed for the helipad—Rita would need some time to gather some of her work materials for the unexpected trip, and he needed to give Felix a heads up to prep the chopper. As he made his way down, the elevator stopped. Mayor Domino entered the lift. Reeve stiffened, unprepared as he were to speak with Rita's grandfather. He slung the bag hiding Cait Sith further behind his back, willing the cat to Stay quiet…
"Mister Mayor, sir," Reeve nodded awkwardly.
"Director Tuesti."
Awkward silence hung in the air. Reeve had half a thought to apologize—the last few times he'd seen the man, he'd fainted and then rudely run away without explanation. Before Reeve could speak, though, Domino did.
"I need to make amends, Director. I've no doubt you know why." Reeve's breath hitched with surprise, but he turned to see Domino face panged with sincere contrition. "I don't suppose either of us thought we'd be in this mess."
Relief washed over him and Reeve half-laughed. "Not quite."
"All I wanted to do," Domino sighed, "was protect my granddaughter. Now I see I've made some miscalculations along the way. Made her good and angry, too."
"I know what that's like."
"I know you do, sonny." Domino smiled at Reeve. "Well," Domino dug into his pocket, "Regardless, I am sorry. I doubt this will fully make up for all the trouble, but I hope you'll accept it anyway." He outstretched his hand. In his palm, purple orb gleamed. Luck Up materia. "You've had a run of bad luck of late." Domino winked. "Here's hoping this changes that."
Reeve accepted the materia with a grateful smile and a thank you. Domino didn't linger, stepping off the lift at the next open door. "If you need me, you know where to find me," the man called out with a wink as he departed.
Reeve smiled and pocketed the orb, continuing ahead on his way with a lighter heart. One fewer obstacle to contend with—Reeve would take all the help he could get.
He met Felix out on the helipad already prepping the chopper. "I'm impressed," Reeve remarked with a grin. "I didn't even call ahead."
Yet Felix didn't seem amused. His grizzled brow furrowed. "I don't suppose you're gonna tell me what the hell is going on, huh?" Reeve stepped back, alarmed. Before he could ask, Felix pointed an angry finger at the meteor hanging ominously in the sky.
"Ah," Reeve ran his hand through his hair, sheepish. "About that...Let me explain." And he began the process of catching Felix up, trusting the man enough to reveal dirty details about his company's executives—though he was careful to omit any details about Cait Sith. That would remain Reeve and Rita's secret only, for now.
As Reeve finished relating the tale, Felix's anxious anger dissipated, replaced by shock. He shook his head. "One thing after another, huh?"
"That's one way of putting it."
"Any ideas about how to deal with it?"
"That—" Reeve pinched his brow—"We're still working on."
"I'm here!" From across the helipad, Rita half-skipped toward them, bag slung over her shoulder. "I've got everything set," she said hurrying forward, breathless. Her eyes darted to the sky, expression darkening.
"It's so creepy. Like an evil eye that's staring at us."
She was right—the eye of the meteor seemed peculiarly trained on their location, right in the heart of Midgar.
Inside the bag, Cait Sith shuddered with fear.
As they settled into the back of the chopper, Reeve leaned over to speak low in Rita's ear. "Your grandfather..." he began.
"I know," she surprised him. "I ran into him in the elevator on my way out. He told me he also ambushed you there. I'm...glad to hear he's come around to helping." She smiled, though Reeve saw the strain behind her eyes. He supposed she had every right still, to doubt. He didn't press further.
They spent the rest of their time airborne in silence, studying the red eye in the sky. As they stepped off the chopper in Junon, Reeve leaned toward Rita. "What else do you notice about that meteor?"
"What do you mean?"
"About where it is? What it's hovering above?"
She hesitated before answering, "It seems like it's falling directly on Midgar."
He wasn't imagining it then, the way the meteor seemed fixed in the sky above his city even as they flew nearer to Junon. Sephiroth's fury fixated itself on The ShinRa Electric Power Company—it would reign destruction on the heart of its problems, the root of the SOLDIER's pain.
With Rita's confirmation, Reeve pulled up a file on his datapad—one he'd started drafting ages ago and yet always lacked Executive support to finish. "Ms. Spencer, I have a special assignment for you," he handed Rita the tablet.
She gave it the once over. "An evacuation plan?"
"The meteor is focused on Midgar, which means the rest of the planet may yet be spared. It also means we need to get everyone out of there while we can. But I'm not going to be able to do that with whatever else Rufus wants."
Rita nodded and thumbed the datapad, scrolling down the files with furrowed brow. Halfway, she froze, then met Reeve's eyes.
"This contact..."
"Is here in Junon. He knows everything there is about ShinRa's—well, let's just call them 'administrative loopholes'. If we're going to get supplies to organize a full-evacuation of Midgar, he's our best chance of doing so undetected."
"Wait—undetected? Won't we need to work with the other departments?"
Reeve clenched his jaw. "I doubt the rest of the Board would approve of this plan. They would consider any evacuation orders as signs of weakness." His mouth tasted sour at the bitter memory of Heidegger crowing Coward as Reeve pleaded with the old President to not drop Sector 7's plate. "We have to rely on ourselves for this one. And the people we can trust." Reeve met Rita's eyes before pointing at his contact in the datapad.
She nodded solemnly. "You'll put me in touch, then?"
In truth, Reeve had messaged Veld soon as they readied to travel to Junon. No doubt, the former Head Turk would have some tips for how to prepare the city for an onslaught, given his considerable experience. "I'll arrange everything. In the meantime—" he handed her his access card—"this should get you anywhere you need to go while we're here. With luck, you should be able to coordinate an initial supply transfer from here to Midgar without attracting too much notice. I'll let you know if any of the Executives come your way."
"Too late," Rita muttered, her eyes widening at a sight behind him. Reeve spun around.
Rufus Shinra.
Reeve straightened while Rita deferred to the President with a slight bow. Rufus acknowledged her presence with the barest of nods, turning his attention immediately to Reeve.
"Good. You're finally here. Take a look at the cannon. I need your input about some of the mechanisms."
"The cannon?" Reeve couldn't help glancing over. "That's Scarlet's expertise—" a glare from Rufus stalled Reeve. "Of course. Right away, sir."
He expected Rufus to turn and lead them away, but the President stalled, his gaze catching Rita.
"Ms. Spencer, I presume you're well. How is your grandfather?"
An expression indiscernible to Reeve flitted across Rita's face. After a moment, she answered, "We haven't talked much lately." Then with a sheepish shrug she added, "Family is complicated."
To Reeve's shock, the hard glint in Rufus' eye softened. "Don't I know it."
Neither Reeve nor Rita expected such reply, both stiffening in their surprise. This seemed to amuse Rufus, who smirked but made no further comment. Instead, the President bid Rita a curt nod before turning to Reeve with an expectant gaze.
The thought tickled the back of Reeve's mind, that Rufus gave no deeper thought to Rita's presence or purpose; indeed, the President likely had little inclination to think of her beyond her grandfather at all.
Like Cait Sith, Rita was Reeve's best kept secret.
"Here, Ms. Spencer, if you would take this to the office for me." He handed her the black bag, the resident of which had been on his best behavior—thus far.
"Of course, Director." She cradled the bag gently as she took it, though Rufus paid no notice of this as Rita bowed to him again. "Mister President." She slunk away, and Reeve turned back to Rufus who had already pressed on with impatience.
"I want to power the cannon with mako. You're needed to advise us how to connect the cannon to the reactors—without it blowing up in our faces."
Reeve's stomach flipped at the implication. "There's no way the reactor could support the size of the cannon, not without severely compromising the power in the rest of Junon."
"I'm not talking about Junon's reactor," Rufus sighed irritably, pushing his bangs out of his face. "I'm talking about Midgar's. All of them."
Reeve tried not to let his shock show on his face. "The same problem would—"
"It's not a matter of whether it can happen, Director, it's only a matter of how." Rufus faced him, his glare searing.
"May I ask why, sir?" Reeve mustered in weak response.
Confusion crossed the President's face, and then he broke out into an annoyed smirk.
"Right. I had forgotten you don't really know what's going on, do you?" The condescending air in his voice sent a shiver through Reeve.
"What happened?"
"Sephiroth summoned meteor to kill us all, that you do already know. In the process, it seems he's also awakened ancient planetary giants, so of course now we have to deal with both." Rufus led him out to the balcony, overlooking the ocean, and pointed at the horizon. In the distance along the horizon at the Northern Crater, Reeve spied a glowing dome.
"I'm not optimistic any efforts of ours to destroy the meteor outright will work, though of course we'll exhaust them all," Rufus continued. "To disrupt the meteor spell, we'll likely need to destroy the spellcaster. But Sephiroth's blocked himself in the crater, and there's a force field surrounding him. The only way we can act is to destroy the barrier. Which means we need the Sister Ray, powered by Midgar's reactors."
It all made sense, Reeve couldn't deny. Yet—"There will be long-term damage using all of Midgar's reactors like this. The power surge alone—"
"There will be long-term damage to the city if a damn meteor falls on it," Rufus snapped. "We're well past the point of long-term damage prevention. This is about mitigation, Director."
"Of course. My apologies, Mister President."
"There's a Board Meeting at the end of this week. I want to hear about your progress then. Work with Scarlet to review the transfer plans."
Reeve cringed inwardly at the prospect. "Right away, sir."
Rufus began walking away, but stalled for the briefest moment. Unnerved, Reeve asked, "Is there anything else, Mister President?"
"No. That's all for now."
Reeve knew that this was his best chance for his remaining question. "What happened to AVALANCHE?"
If Rufus seemed surprised by this question, it didn't show. "We have two of the group in custody, their cell leader Wallace and the barmaid Lockhart. Heidegger is managing them. The rest, Public Safety will track down. You have other problems to worry about now. AVALANCHE is no longer your concern."
And with that, Rufus turned and marched on, leaving Reeve alone with his pounding heart and shaking legs.
So, most of them had escaped—perhaps they had even found Cloud, if Aerith was successful in her efforts to protect him. Reeve sighed with relief. As long as the rest of the group was at large, there was hope. He could try to find some way of using Cait Sith to contact them. They could yet save Barret and Tifa.
Along the other end of their link, Cait Sith trilled approval of such plan and buzzed with eagerness to enact it.
There was the rest of Rufus' proposal still to contend with. Partnering with Scarlet was never a favorable proposition, and his heart burned with dread at the thought. Reeve took his only consolation in the fact that at least she would be preoccupied while Rita and Cait Sith prepared their plans.
And perhaps this idea of the President's would actually work.
Working with Scarlet, Reeve witnessed once again her extreme capacity for cruelty. Insult-loaded and arrayed with lethal sneers, Scarlet seemed determined to stir within Reeve as much unsettled sentiment as possible, barking orders at him and the rest of her staff with particular maliciousness.
For her, it seemed old wounds festered. Scarlet reigned in her aggression and feigned cooperation at official board meetings but here, in her domain deep in the lair of Advanced Weaponry and the site of her proudest creation the Sister Ray, she bared her fangs and held nothing back against Reeve.
"You fool," she snapped as he outlined his sixth proposal to connect her cannon to his mako reactors. "That connection throttles too much power. We need to be able to let loose!"
"We allow for too much power, it will backfire and blow up parts of the city!"
"Who cares?" She picked at a red-lacquered nail. "The city's gone to shit anyway; half of it's covered in a shattered plate. We don't need the city—just the mako from the city's reactors."
"How can you be so shortsighted!?"
"Kya-ha-hah-ha-haah!" Her screeching laugh shriveled his eardrums, and he resisted the urge to shiver and curl in on himself. "Once again, you can't see the bigger picture, Reeve. Small in so many ways." She sneered, heavy-lidded eyes forming slits like a Zolom's. "Neo-Midgar." She hissed. "A promised land of unending mako. Enough to supply my dream arsenal." Her eyes shone glassy. "That's what it's always been about. Once we have access to the Northern Crater again, we'll build a new city. Who gives a damn about the old one?" Scarlet snorted. "Other than you, that is."
His hands shook as rage boiled within him, threatening to spill out and scald her.
Scarlet had been the start of it. She'd drawn him into the company's clutches and soothed by her siren's song he'd neglected to notice the rot. Reeve spent so many nights awestruck, at her side, in her bed, blinded by her sensuous smiles and ingenious engineering. He could still picture the night she'd come to him with her breakthrough, the simple brilliance of her plans to convert mako energy into cannon power at mass scale—a level the world had never seen. He'd helped her that night refine her blueprints and she'd rewarded him in kind.
Together they'd won seats at the table, rising to power in ShinRa side by side. How quickly she'd dropped the ruse and any hint of affection, once she sat at the left hand of the elder Shinra himself. Once Reeve was no longer useful, and instead seen as a liability. Soft. Weak.
"Actually," she picked up Proposal No. 6 again, studying its design closer. Then she grabbed her pencil, outlining thick graphite markings across his plans. "Now this could actually work."
A cursory glance at the design proved her correct. He almost didn't want to look at her, instead loosening his tie to relieve the burning in his chest. Damn her callous genius. She saw the world the way he did—differently. It used to be his favorite trait about her.
"Here," though reluctant to award even the slightest victory, Reeve couldn't help but fall into their old pattern of partnership, taking the graphite from her hands and tracing along her edits. She quickly caught on, following the thread of his ingenuity with further marks to their shared design. In this way they worked feverishly, mostly cooperative, though twice her sharp nails pecked him as she plucked the pencil from his hands.
Finally, Scarlet cooed in satisfaction as the blueprint emerged, a marriage of urban development and advanced weaponry, a cannon that would harvest the city's power—and still have some to spare for its people. It would be the best compromise Reeve could devise. He sat down, his legs jelly.
Scarlet's eyes gleamed, ruby lips twisting in pleasure. "Look at us, changing the world—again."
Working with Rita, Cait Sith witnessed firsthand the diligence and care she poured into her efforts. Every file marked, no box left unchecked—aye, with ruthless efficiency Rita pulled together an updated evacuation plan and scheduled discrete supply transfers from her makeshift Urban Development hub in a spare and dimly lit back office in the Junon headquarters.
Cait Sith did his part to stay in line and keep hidden. From the secrecy of their space, which Rita affectionately deemed "the supply closet", Cait Sith monitored company chatter for any signs of his AVALANCHE companions. Days slipped by without any word. The group had successfully gone underground—at least they seemed safe, wherever they were.
But that wouldn't save Barret or Tifa. Cait Sith tried his hand at breaking into Heidegger's Public Safety records, to no avail. Yet when he tried to slip off to investigate personally, Rita gave him a stern warning and a threat to return to the black bag. Thus, Cait Sith diligently remained in the dingy office. He would keep watching, waiting for his chance to spring them free.
Occasionally, he passed Rita a tip or two from Reeve's stores of knowledge to assist her efforts. Nearly a week in, Cait Sith shared that Reeve had finally heard back from Veld.
"Gotcha coordinates and a meetin' place on the pier," the cat said as she prepped. "He'll be there at quarter 'til." He noticed the barest tremor of her hands. "Yeh nervous?"
Rita's lips drew into a thin line. "Not every day you meet someone presumed dead."
"Ahh, no. S'pose not."
"But also not my first run in with a Turk." Her eyes glinted, hard and steely. "I'll be fine."
"Of course, lassie."
She mustered a smile. "You make sure the Director takes care of himself before his board meeting." Satisfied with Cait Sith's assurance he would, she finally headed out to meet Veld. The week spent with Cait Sith had been filled with late nights and tireless threads of examination, unraveling logistics and entanglements, weaving together a threadbare map that would work—one she could enact without any other department's help.
In truth, she reveled in the challenge, and the presence of Cait Sith only further enhanced the thrill. She still burned with curiosity about him—and his creator. But seeing Reeve inspire Cait Sith to magically come to life had also instilled in Rita a deep sense of familiarity with the doll. It was as if she had known him for many years. In a way, she mused, she had.
As such, she had quickly grown used to Cait Sith at her side. Now alone weaving through the Junon city streets, Rita shook out her hands, wishing she had a bag to punch to out her nerves. Her run-ins with Turks seemed to end up disastrous in the long term. She braced herself for whatever this meeting held.
The pier seemed quiet this time of day, people already shuffling away to their homes for the evening in stilted fashion, now and then pausing to stare and point upward at the strange invasion of the fiery meteor. Dusk settled around Junon, and any other time Rita would stop to admire the roseate clouds. Today, marred as they were by a calamity in the sky, she kept her gaze averted.
At the end of the pier, a man leaned against the balcony as he stared over the ocean. His hair looked tousled, face grizzled and marred by deep lines and a scarred jaw. As she drew nearer his sharp eyes trained on her, and she belatedly realized one of his arms glinted from gun-metal gray to glowing orange as the sun shone off the prosthetic. Ignoring her churning stomach, Rita stepped forward, hoping she projected the air of a passerby taking in the view as she settled an arm's length from him on the wall.
"Quite a sight, eh?" His voice sounded as grizzled as his visage, though Rita detected the barest hint of a Kalm brogue.
"I've seen better."
Veld smirked. "As have I, Ms. Spencer. Nice to finally make an introduction." He gave her the once-over. "I've know about you for some time." She trembled.
"Have you?
"Since you were hired. Conducted your Executive Assistant background check."
"Oh." The butterflies in her belly fluttered. Stupidly she said the first thing that came to mind, which was, "Then does that mean you've also looked into my grandfather's background?"
Veld's eyebrows shot up. "Even if I did," he deadpanned, "I don't hold daughters responsible for the sins of their forefathers."
Rita didn't know how to respond.
He continued, "Tuesti insisted on hiring you, and I had to double check. It was the first piece of advice I gave him in his role." Veld caught her eyes. "'Find an assistant you trust,' I told him. He was convinced it was you. And after looking into it, you seemed up to snuff."
Rita exhaled, the tension in her stomach unclenching having garnered the approval she hadn't realized she'd implicitly craved.
"Glad to hear it."
"The real question," his eyes traced from her toward the meteor, "is are you up to the task now?"
She sighed, resting her arms over the balcony.
"Whether I'm up for it or not, it's coming." Rita looked down at the waves lapping against the tall fortress walls. "At least I have the advantage of knowing what's going on. Most people don't have that privilege. I have to do something with it." She thought another moment before adding, "Besides, I'm not in the habit of letting down my boss."
One side of his lips curled upward. "I know."
Rita couldn't help herself. "How is it you and the Director are so close?"
Veld's eyes glittered with his ill-contained amusement. "Tseng mentioned you were the curious type." At the naming of the other Turk, Rita stiffened, sucking her breath through her teeth. "He also mentioned you were probably still mad at him, too."
The seed of her original question had now flowered into trailing vines of competing queries. Rita squashed those. "I didn't ask about Tseng."
"So you didn't." He didn't continue this time, and she dared to glance sideways to watch him stare out at the sea. They both silently took in the sound of crashing waves for moments until Veld finally responded. "Met 'im as a kid. Shinra takes keen interest in geniuses." He gave her a wry glance. "Not that Tuesti would ever own up to what exactly it is that makes him tick. You might even know better than I."
Rita willed that her heart beat softer, for she felt sure its pounding out-thundered the waves.
"When he finally made it big, I realized I had something special on my hands: a genius who was a bit of a wild card, rather than a company man. Useful in spy craft. What's not so useful is someone who's soft. I knew the kid would be eaten alive at the Executive table, unless he had someone coaching him."
It all made sense: Reeve's closeness with the Turks, even his unwitting penchant for manipulation and stealth. He acted in the way he'd been taught to survive at ShinRa.
"And ta add," Veld surprised her by continuing, but even further by speaking in a more pronounced accent, "I've a soft spot fer hometown boys."
A smile crept at the corners of Rita's mouth. "Your help is greatly appreciated, for whatever reason it's given."
Veld nodded. "Now, business." He pulled from his pocket a small keycard and handed it to her. "This is your key to the city. That'll get you access to places and computers. Both, you'll need. Tuesti tells me he's thinking full-scale evac. Equals lots of tents and cots, not to mention basic necessities to keep people going. Finding the supplies won't be hard—that'll be storing them." He pointed to the card clasped in her grasp. "There are secret bases in the mountains few miles south of Midgar you can use for that. That keycard'll get you access to the restricted information to find those bases. And this," now he held up a small flip phone to her, "is what you'll use to contact my other guy inside."
Rita perked. "Other guy?"
"He's in SOLDIER. Bit of a gossip but he can be trusted, especially since you'll need bodies to load up and transport these supplies. For now, though, it's probably better he doesn't know who you are—your boss wants to keep this under wraps, so the less my guy knows, the better. For his sake, and yours. Tell him I sent you, he'll give you the help you need with little questions asked. Use the codename Fulcrum."
She quirked her brow. "I'm Fulcrum?"
"Never had a codename before?"
"I don't suppose my grandfather's nickname for me counts." Veld actually laughed. Rita, feeling warm, pocketed the keycard and burner phone. "Thank you for doing all this."
"There's one more thing." He reached into his pocket again, this time fishing out a glittering orb and handing it to her. Rita accepted it genuinely touched, bringing to her face to study its emerald glow. "Barrier materia," Veld explained.
"You think I'll need this?"
"Does it ever hurt to be over-prepared?"
She pocketed the orb. "I guess I'll find out."
"—combined output of Midgar's reactors and ingenuity of its design means the Sister Ray is more capable than ever of destroying the magical barrier at the crater." Scarlet finished with a smug flourish and sat back in her seat. "Sephiroth stands no chance against us."
Reeve had remained silent throughout the briefing, trying to not draw attention. This effort proved futile now as Rufus turned to him. "And your thoughts on the cannon design, Director?"
Reeve hesitated first, but then again, Rufus asked for it. "The cannon itself will work. But I can't speak to the damage to the city that might be caused by any backlash—of which there almost certainly will be." Reeve tried hard to not conjure images of his city in further ruins, his Mother and the child she currently cared for, or any of the diligent Urban Development employees still reporting to work to clean up the aftermath of the damage done nearly one month before. "And there is considerable risk to Headquarters itself. Being built above one of the reactors, there's no telling what might happen in any aftershocks. We'll need to prepare for anything."
"Sounds like a fine task for our City's Manager. I have faith you'll figure it out, Director Tuesti." Rufus drawled dismissively. "In the meantime, I approve the plan to move the cannon. That's two agenda items down, tracking down Huge Materia to target the Meteor, and using the Sister Ray to target the barrier." He turned to Heidegger. "What's the status on AVALANCHE? Any signs from the rest of the group?"
"None so far. However, given the likelihood those terrorists will want to come bust loose their friends, we've elevated our alert status to highest. I've assigned all Turks to also serve as extra security for this afternoon. We are ready to withstand any attack we might face!" Heidegger threw his head back and laughed, and Reeve tried not to look at the spittle left on the man's thick beard.
Rufus nodded. "And everything else is set?"
"All of it." Scarlet piped in now. "I've got the press all wrangled, they'll be ready in the chamber for when we begin. The leader Wallace will go first, then that bar wench will get hers. I've prepared the chambers and necessary supplies myself." She clapped her hands together, giddy.
This part of the conversation, Reeve couldn't follow. "Pardon? What are you talking about, go first for what?"
Scarlet rolled her eyes at him, and with an exasperated sigh said, "Always one step behind, Reeve. The executions, of course."
Reeve's stomach roiled. "Executions!?" His frantic eyes found Rufus', who stared at him with cold blankness.
"This Company needs a win. Bombings on reactors, meteors in the sky—people are quickly losing confidence." Rufus pushed his blond bangs from his face. "A public execution of the terrorists responsible for the tragedies will restore trust, and show the world we have control of the situation."
Reeve's mouth ran dry, the protestation choking in his throat and ringing in his mind from Cait Sith's end of the link. With all the Executive's eyes on him, Reeve said nothing, slinking backward into his seat. From somewhere deep within the bowels of Headquarters, the unsupervised cat slunk off, and Reeve sent no pulse down their connection to stop him.
Satisfied with Reeve's lack of response, the President moved on. "You have your assignments. If there are any signs of AVALANCHE arriving, I want to know." With a flick of his wrist, Rufus dismissed them.
Scarlet practically bounced up. "Well, don't mind me, but I don't want to be late for the spectacle. The press will be waiting." Her lips twisted into a sick grin as she said to Reeve, "Shall I save you a seat?"
Before he could respond, Rufus cut in. "I need to speak with the Director, a moment."
Though her eyes registered surprise, Scarlet looked from Rufus to Reeve and remained blissfully silent as she departed with Heidegger.
Rufus spun toward him but did not speak at first, and Reeve's insides iced over. "Sir?"
He'd shown too much hesitation about AVALANCHE's fate, revealed his hand and true feelings, hadn't he? Fear wracked his nerves—surely, this was it. Reeve was caught.
Minutes seemed to pass. The President's intense gaze locked with his, still unspeaking. Indeed, it seemed as if for once, Rufus struggled for words. Finally, drawn out and pained, Rufus spoke:
"Do you know what happened to Tseng?"
Shock jolted him. "Tseng?"
"Your robot was with AVALANCHE when Sephiroth attacked him, was it not? Did you see what happened to him?"
This was what had weighed on Rufus' mind, during all of these other crises? The deep note of care in the President's voice struck Reeve most. Tseng had been his personal guard for a long time…perhaps the President, like Reeve, had his own vulnerabilities. It was that particular thought that made it most difficult for the lie to creep beyond his lips.
"No."
Rufus didn't scrutinize. Instead he turned away, hiding his face.
Perhaps he ought to offer consolation, Reeve thought. He had no sooner formed the words in his mind before an alarm blared out, shrill and panging. Heidegger burst through the door.
"We're under attack!" The burly man panted from his exertion. "By one of those planet things...—Weapons! The blue one, whatever it is!"
Rufus and Reeve crossed to the glass-paned wall to see themselves. The General's word rang true.
Speeding toward them, the Weapon attacked.