Hearing voices; A new design; Good morning night owl;
Uncomfortable conversations with unpleasant people;
Technological advances; The future - your future

"Hello, laddie, can Ah have yer ear fer a moment?"

Reeve looked up from the sprawled blueprints for the Sector Five plate and blinked his eyes to refocus. There was no one standing before his desk. Odd. He could have sworn he'd heard someone. The wall clock across from him read 12:43 p.m. How had it gotten that late? He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his sore eyes. It was well past time to head home and eat a bit. Had he remembered to start the slow cooker, or did he need to pick something up?

"Ah'm here wi' some new plans fer Midgar. Dae ye think ye could tak a look at them? Ah think they micht help."

Reeve stopped mid-stretch. He hadn't imagined the voice, but the door was unopened and no one was in the office with him… or so he thought. Working at Shinra, it could be difficult to be entirely certain of one's solitude, but the voice sounded distinctly un-Turk-like.

"…Hello, is someone there?" he tentatively called out.

As soon as he said that, a very familiar black and white cat, wearing a small golden crown and a red cape, jumped up onto his desk. The plans wrinkled beneath its yellow boots, and a scattering of papers and crumpled notes were jostled to the floor.

"Cait Sith, at yer service." The little cat bowed, then popped its head upward with a grin. "It's very good tae meit ye!"

Reeve, staring, reached down toward the drawer where he kept his sketchpads and daydreaming ideas. He rarely had lucid dreams, but this must be one. The robotic feline before him was a pet project of his, but one he was still years off from developing. Without taking his gaze off the A.I., he pulled out a worn sketchbook and flipped toward the last pages. He flicked his eyes downward for a moment - on the page were diagrams of gears and dice and their plush housing, a trickster cat based on old legends. He looked back up - it was all there in front of him, but more: the perked ears, curled tail, twitching whiskers, the gleaming eyes, the tilt to the head as it watched him.

"You can't be real. Cait Sith... but... who made you?" He made an abortive move at touching the cat.

"Ah can answer yer questions, but first, can ye tak a look at these?" The cat held out a small memory drive in its paw.

Reeve took it carefully, still in shock at seeing his childhood design standing before him. When he inserted the memory drive, the files that opened before him were staggering. There were folders upon folders of blueprints, schematics, engineering plans, ambitious ideas for new energy sources, and a full 3-D map of what he could only assume was meant to be Midgar. A green Midgar, with belts of plantings that divided the commercial and residential areas. There were recycling plants and widespread composting stations. The train lines had become a subway, running between the upper and lower layers of the plate, with two tracks instead of one descending to the slums below. There were odd solar-powered light fixtures along the roads - columns ringed with lights, their hollow insides filled with mirrors that would bounce the filtered sunlight down through the column all the way through to the slums. They were spaced to provide optimal lighting above and below, as well as act as supports for the plate's infrastructure.

There were even tips on how to present the plans to the other board members, uncanny in the answers to the questions that would undoubtedly be asked. Maintenance fees, improvement of property worth, employment opportunities for above and below plate, jobs for every level of education, bringing in tourism, undermining many of the main threats against Shinra, promoting company image, investing in the future. There were even statistics and growth charts showing how these new energy sources were more cost-efficient for Shinra, and more long-lasting than mako.

In fact, there was a lot of information on the lifestream, the finite amount of mako, and the damaging effects of mako energy on humans, the ecosystem, and the planet. Not all of it was new to Reeve, but he'd never seen it compiled together before in such a damning fashion. As he read, riveted, the little cat robot curled up and appeared to go to sleep on the blueprints he'd been going over. They had seemed so advanced, almost revolutionary, when he helped draft them, and now seemed so hopelessly outdated. He was so busy absorbing all the new data, he completely lost track of time and was startled to hear a knock at his door.

Rubbing his eyes, which ached worse than ever, he quickly shooed Cait Sith under his desk. "Come in," he called, closing the files and turning the screen dark.

His secretary, Lindsey Sharp, a short, grey-haired woman, entered. Her arms, as always, were full of papers, folders, mugs of coffee, and mysterious covered containers. She'd worked under Reeve's predecessor, the architect Edgar, and Reeve found her experience indispensable. Her sunny 'good morning!' expression slowly morphed to accusatory as she took in his rumpled appearance and the dark circles under his eyes. "You never went home last night."

"No, I was busy. I-" She waved off his excuse while stepping around the scattered papers on the floor.

"Have you eaten anything in the last twelve hours?"

"No, I-"

"Thought not. Here, your mother sent these." She set a small basket with some muffins down on his desk, as well as a large cup of highly caffeinated coffee. He was lucky, he supposed, that Lindsey lived only a few houses down from his mother and was a long-time friend of the family. He picked up a muffin to examine. It appeared that today's flavor was rum apple raisin.

"Lindsey, can you clear my calendar for the next two days? There's a new project I want to start." He peeled the paper from a muffin and took a large bite, then squinted as she began opening the blinds, letting all-too-bright morning sunshine into the room.

"I'll cancel everything but the meeting I came to tell you about."

His brows furrowed. "A new one?" Very few people outside his own department scheduled appointments with him, and he couldn't think of anything pressing enough internally that Lindsey wouldn't be able to rearrange it.

"Yes," she checked her watch, "in twenty-eight minutes you are to meet with the president."

Damn. What could the man possibly want with him? There had been a board meeting only yesterday, and Urban Development wasn't exactly high on the president's priority list. More likely than not, it was to cancel some project or redirect funding. Maybe he had a complaint about something taking too long. There had been some monster infestations recently, and with SOLDIER stretched thin because of the war, Midgar's construction was falling behind schedule. "I see, Lindsey. Thank you."

He ate his breakfast hurriedly, trying not to get crumbs on his suit. He stopped in at the bathroom, straightened his cuffs and tie in the mirror, and combed his hair with a small black comb he kept in his desk for such occasions. Inside the elevator, he let himself slouch against the glass wall. The coffee helped, but he was still tired. Even if he went home after the meeting though, he'd be unable to sleep. What he really wanted was to get back to his office, to talk with Cait Sith and begin to incorporate the new designs into his current plans. They were fascinating to him, the idea that such technologies, some he'd never even heard of, existed. He was still going over the contents of the memory stick in his head when he reached the doors to the president's office. His shoes rang off the polished marble tiling. The executive floors were one of the few places in the building with such a luxury, the other departments making do with laminate or metal flooring.

Once admitted, he stopped awkwardly in the doorway, surprised to see Professor Hojo, the head of the Science Department, pacing across the large space. He was gesturing wildly and ranting in his high, nasal voice about valuable data, some irreplaceable project, having been destroyed, as well as griping about the uselessness of 'Hollander's brats' and the president's 'overpaid spies'. The two Turks in the room, one behind the president and one by the door, didn't seem to pay any attention to the insult, their faces completely neutral. President Shinra looked as though he had long lost interest in the complaining, leaning back in his leather chair and staring at his oversized desk, his hands clasped over his sizable stomach.

Reeve devoutly hoped his appointment was about something unrelated to whatever had brought Shinra's lead scientist up here in a tizzy. The professor was the least ethical person Reeve had ever met, with a total disregard for everyone and everything that wasn't relevant to his work. The fact that he ran the best-funded department, was the oldest and the second-longest serving member of the Board, and had a direct line to the President's ear was a grim reminder that Reeve was the exact opposite. Urban Development had the smallest budget, Reeve could barely get the President to answer his calls, and as the youngest and newest Board member, he had the corresponding amount of clout.

The president glanced at his watch, then at the doorway. His eyes lit up as he saw Reeve, and the engineer had to suppress a flinch. "Ah, Reeve!" The man sat up and beckoned him. "Stop hovering in the doorway and come in. That's your biggest problem, lack of assertiveness."

Hojo, stopped mid-tirade, sneered as Reeve approached, stopping equidistant from the president's desk, the scientist, and the door. "I don't see why you would need to be here, Reeve. This has nothing to do with you."

Shinra's meaty fist thumped on his desk. "The reactors are shared by your departments, and that reactor is costing us gil the longer it remains damaged. Gentlemen, there's work to be done. Hojo, you still have some supplies here in Midgar, correct?"

"A limited supply!" the scientist shrilled. "As I was saying, only-" Shinra cut him off.

"Enough for several months' injections?"

Hojo scowled. The man hated being interrupted. "Five months at the normal injection rate. But the-"

"Cut it by a third."

Reeve felt as though he was a bystander at a slow-motion train wreck, able to see the disaster ahead but helpless to avert it. President Shinra would ultimately have his way, but everyone below Hojo in the hierarchy (and that was the entirety of the company) would suffer the ripple effects of the professor's explosive mood after this argument.

"And after that?" the scientist snapped. "It was destroyed! There's none left! Without JENOVA, no SOLDIERs, no Neo Midgar, no Promised Land, nothing!" His voice rose in volume until he was screeching.

Shinra's expression tightened. "Am I paying you for excuses? If it's gone, it's gone. There's no use in crying for the past. Come up with a new formula. You can use as many from the lower ranks as you need until you get it right. Infantry or cadets, whichever you prefer. As for the Promised Land, isn't that why we have Sephiroth?"

Hojo's scowl deepened, eyeing Reeve and the Turks warily, and he approached the desk to speak more quietly. "JENOVA was the key. Sephiroth is only-"

Shinra seemed determined to prevent Hojo from starting in on another rant, again cutting him off before he could get on a roll. "Sephiroth will have to be enough. Reeve."

Reeve was for once glad to have the president's focus on him. He knew the company dabbled in human experimentation, SOLDIER being proof enough, but the blatant talk of it in front of him was uncomfortable and slightly nauseating. "Sir?"

"A group of terrorists attacked the Nibelheim reactor yesterday."

Hojo slapped his hands onto Shinra's desk, scattering some of the papers. "The reactor wasn't the target, but my research! Years lost!"

The president's face went red, mustache bristling. "Hojo! If you can't control your outbursts, the door is behind you!"

Hojo scowled but went quiet. He skulked back behind Reeve, and the engineer turned his head to keep him in his peripheral vision. Hojo was not the sort of person he felt comfortable having behind him. His hunched form was like having a demonic gargoyle looking over his shoulder.

Shinra tapped a finger on the desk. He wore a heavy gold ring on one thumb, and it flashed in the light. "That reactor was old, the prototype designed by Ed. Not nearly as productive as your new models."

It was rare for him to receive a compliment, doubly so one from Shinra himself. "Thank you." Behind him, he could hear Hojo muttering.

Shinra waved the gratitude off. "Damaged as it is, it's running at half power. Repairs are the perfect time to update it. I'll give you two months to get it working properly."

The new designs and plans Cait Sith had brought to him flashed across his mind. In them, the reactors had been transformed into advanced battery warehouses, storing excess energy for when it was needed. The energy would come from sustainable sources, but Reeve couldn't remember offhand through the haze of tiredness what had been listed for the Nibel reactor. There had been one design to turn the drills that reached down to the liquid mako into rods that collected geothermal energy - that seemed likely enough for the mountainous region.

"Actually," he started slowly, "I'm working on a new, more efficient design. I was planning to implement it in the Modeoheim reactor first, but if I could have a little more time to finalize it, I'm sure I could have it ready for Nibelheim. It would produce more energy, and be able to service a larger area."

Shinra looked consideringly at Reeve. "A larger distribution range with a higher voltage, you say." From a desk drawer, he pulled a packaged cigar, a guillotine style cutter, and a black marble ashtray. He tapped the cylindrical package against his palm, the cigar inside sliding free. "What would the building cost be for this upgrade?"

"No more than what it would take to update a damaged reactor," he lied. He wished he could remember that list. Had it been solar? He could vaguely recall a proposed solar field out near Brarrow. The problem with solar was that it produced a surplus of energy on sunny days and little-to-none at night or when clouds obscured the sky. The solution was storing the excess in the repurposed reactors. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was that that was the proposed method. Would the cost of building a solar field and battery house be the same as refurbishing a reactor?

No, of course not. But hadn't the president just told him to be more assertive? Permission for this project would never happen. Much easier to seek forgiveness after it was built and was proving itself. The bad taste left from the distasteful talk of human experimentation made him feel a little rebellious, seeking some way to assure himself that his vision of an easier and better future was still achievable under the heavy hand of Shinra. And, on a rather pettier level, Reeve felt that it was his department's turn for a passion project running over-budget since the other board members had been getting away with such things since before Reeve had even joined.

"Alright, I expect your people to have it up and running in three months. It's running at half percent after all, and we're losing money." Shinra's eyes lit up, and he chomped with satisfaction on his cigar, seeming in the midst of an epiphany. "We'll stop the bleeding by charging more. A new repair fee. That should cover your costs."

Reeve frowned and tried not to show it. "The western continent isn't as well off as the east. Will they be able to afford it?"

"If they want all their little creature comforts - heating, lighting, running water - they will. We have a monopoly, boy, we can charge whatever we want and they'll pay," Shinra laughed.

"And what reparations do I get?" It seemed Hojo had reached his limit on being ignored. "My work has been destroyed."

Shinra frowned at him, eyebrows bushing together. "You wanted the enhanced boy? You can have him. The Turks can make do with the others. But, Hojo," Shinra's voice grew darker than Reeve had ever heard before, "I am curious as to how that boy came to be."

Hojo didn't seem fazed at all, pushing his glasses up, causing them to catch the light. "So am I."

It was a blessing not knowing what they were talking about. He couldn't do anything to help, so it was best not to know. He had to focus on what he could do. On building Midgar, and now rebuilding the reactors.

Shinra stared at Hojo for a long moment before nodding and waving a fat hand in dismissal. "You have a formula to be working on, professor. Reeve, three months." He turned his chair away from them to stare at the half-completed skyline and blow smoke rings.

It was an awkward ride on the elevator standing next to Hojo. Thankfully, the man would disembark before him; the Science floors were only a few levels down from the Executive, while Urban Development was close to the ground floor, sandwiched between Human Resources and Accounting. This wasn't entirely insulting - it deprived Reeve of a view of his brainchild's development, but made for a conveniently short elevator trip when he or his staff needed to make a field inspection.

The professor was silent for a moment, then spoke, sounding snide. "You'll need to send me a list of the workers you plan to send to that reactor, as well as the blueprints for the new design."

He truly did not want to share the new designs with this man. Hojo was fascinated by mako and phasing it out would undoubtedly infuriate him. He would go straight to the president and put the kibosh on the plan. "Actually, I was thinking about going myself."

The scientist gave an amused cackle. "You don't have the clearance for that reactor."

Reeve raised an eyebrow, inwardly fuming. He'd designed most of the reactors, his department was in charge of them, but the Science Department, claiming a need for unrestricted access to the mako, had assumed authority over four of them, creating a perpetual thorn in Reeve's side.

The doors dinged. Despite knowing he'd likely regret it later, he couldn't resist the perfect opportunity to jab Hojo where it hurt. "I don't see a problem with me going. From what I understand, there's not much left of your work remaining in the Nibel reactor."

Hojo's amusement evaporated like a summer shower in the wastes, gone before the rain could touch the ground. "You still need my permission, boy," he snapped, and exited.

Reeve leaned against a wall and put a hand to his temple. 'Boy'. Twenty-five years old and a board member, and he was still being patronized. He was still upset when he got back to his office - encounters with Hojo were always like this. Someday he hoped he would become inured to the unpleasantness of the man. His bad mood meant he was completely caught off guard seeing Cait Sith playing cat's cradle on his desk. Seeing the A.I. still felt like a lucid dream.

"You're still here?" he asked dumbly.

"Aye, Ah said ah'd answer any of yer questions. So ask away, laddie." From Cait Sith, the diminutive was less dismissive. It sounded almost… tender. Reeve frowned again. Who had made this robot?

The scattered papers from last night were stacked neatly on his desk - Lindsey's doing. Cait Sith must have hidden beneath the desk while she cleaned. Carefully he sat down, swiveling his chair away from the A.I., trying to collect his thoughts. One of the large pipes that climbed the walls of Shinra's headquarters obscured most of his view, and what vista remained ended at the Sector 0 wall. He turned back to the cat. The mechanical creature was standing dead-center on his desk, paws folded behind its back and rocking back and forth on its heels. It looked a miscreant schoolboy called to explain his latest mischief in the front office.

"Who created you?"

A grin split the black and white face. "Reit, start wi' that one. That would be ye, laddie."

"No, I didn't. I'd know if I had." Even if he'd had the A.I program ready for use, its robotic housing would take days of delicate labor to construct. It wasn't a project that could be done and forgotten.

"Aye, not yet, but ye will," the cat paused, "or would have." It shrugged before moving to pat him on the shoulder. "'An ye may yet, ne'er an ill thought to have some duplicates runnin' aboot."

What on Gaia was the A.I. going on about? He couldn't help but wonder if someone was having a go at him. But who? Who could have built a design he'd never shared with anyone, except as a doodle when he was twelve to his mother, sitting in her pink floral reading room?

He gave a small disbelieving laugh. "I don't understand what you're trying to say, Cait Sith." And it wasn't because of the accent.

The cat sighed as if expecting this. "Then tak a look at the plans again; the answer's in there."

Dubiously, he reinserted the drive into his computer. Instead of letting himself get immersed in wonder he ran a critical eye over the documents, looking for anything that would give away who had made them. There were diagrams for wind turbines, geothermal wells, and sky-scraping buildings whose roofs and exterior walls were coated with plants, along with lists of pollutant-scrubbing plants. There were brainstorms for new types of lights and new ways to gather and use energy. There were detailed instructions for refurbishing factories to make bio-degradable products, and how to ensure the area below the plates retained access to light and water and clean air.

It was all new, years ahead of his own work. But it wasn't because the person or people behind these plans were smarter or more insightful than him, but because the research behind all this - it just hadn't been done. The technologies hadn't been developed or tested. No one on the planet had the gil to fund this sort of development but for Shinra, and Reeve's department was the only place in the company where this research could have happened, and he would have known if one of his employees was embarked on a project this massive.

Still, it all seemed to work. There was no glaring flaw that he could see in the blueprints or diagrams.

And it wasn't just Midgar, but other cities and towns around the world. The most reliable power sources for each area - solar, wind, hydro, geothermal. Suggested practices for sustainable farming and forestry. Humane barriers to keep humans and wildlife safe from each other in high-conflict areas. A cross-continental train system to link them all.

There was something subtly bothersome about reading through the concepts, something he couldn't place until he was nearly through with the drive. It felt like he was reading his own work. The vocabulary used, the notations on the blueprints, design details in the reactors that he was unsure anyone else could grasp the reasoning for. Even something as simple as the ways in which the files were named and organized on the drive - everything was placed in a fashion that felt natural and intuitive to him.

As he sat back in his chair to contemplate, Cait Sith asked, "Weel, what d'ye think then?"

"I'm not sure, but," he waved his hand at the computer, "these technologies haven't been developed. The technology for you hasn't been developed. I've been working on it, but -" He shook his head. He still had a long way to go before developing the self-learning A.I.

Cait Sith applauded. "An' there's yer answer. Not yet, but they will. Ye will." The cat looked at him meaningfully. "Yer a smart laddie, Reeve. Ye had a good life in Kalm, but ye've always known many don't. Had many fancy ideas about what ye'd do when ye grew up and then ye decided ye wanted to do somethin' worthwhile. Makin' lives better, comfy homes with all the trimmin's. What ye had, but better. Started designin', engineerin', buildin'. Met Edgar that way. He saw ye as a genius an' brought ye here to Midgar. Ye took his reactor design, streamlined it. Pumpin' up more mako, more energy."

Reeve shifted in his seat. He wasn't sure if he imagined the accusation in Cait's voice, or if it was his own conscience. The litany of his achievements rang hollow after reading the compiled notes on mako's damaging effects.

"An' when ol' Eddie retired ye made department head. Yer dad had passed, so ye brought yer mom to the bright new city. An' now," the cat crouched right in front of him, "yer turnin' a blind eye."

Reeve's jaw dropped, and he began to protest. He hadn't had this data available before! Now that he knew, he was already planning on how to enact the redesigns! Cait Sith, however, held up a gloved paw to silence him.

"The prices keep going up, quality of life keeps going down. Seven towns now buried wi'out light an' called the slums. But that's nae your fault, is it? 'Tis the others that dae the darker stuff. 'Tisn't ye who orders the killin', the sufferin'. Ye only turn yer head away, dae yer best wi' the buildin' and designin'.

"It'll get worse. Ye'll see a plate dropped, on purpose, by Shinra, an' ye won't dae a damn thing to help. Ye'll warn yer own people, get them out, an' to Hel with the rest. All them folks above an' below, dead."

"No!" He couldn't take it. Horror robbed him of his voice, but he still forced the words out. "I'm not like that. Shinra's not like that."

"Arenae they, though? Ye've seen what they do. One life, ten thousand - what's the difference?"

Words echoed in Reeve's mind. 'Use as many from the lower ranks as you need until you get it right. Infantry or cadets, whichever you prefer.'

Cait was right on that score, but what could Reeve do? He didn't have the power to influence Shinra. He barely had the power to get his budget approved. He looked helplessly at the cat. It stared back, solemn, judging, and kind at once. "How long can ye stay an observer in a mire like that? How long 'til yer compass breaks, and ye're down there in the black muck wi' the rest of 'em? Kidnappin' a wee terrified lass, tellin' yerself it's only tae keep 'er safe from the Turks? Usin' 'er to blackmail 'er family?" The cat stood and set a white paw on either side of his face, making him look it in the eyes. "Ah've seen more of this world than ye. Ye can't keep goin' doon this path."

Reeve's eyes stung, and his chest ached. Here stood his childhood, telling him about who he would become. What sort of person was he, at heart? He'd always thought of himself as a good person, but… "You're from the future?"

"Aye, laddie."

"Did you come back to stop me?"

"Ah'm here for yer help."


*Notes

Hey, another late chapter! In our defense, the last week in SoCal has been… kind of on fire. House still standing, though, so we're lucky.

So, for the actual chapter, let out a big cheer - it's yet another plotline! We're following six different groups now, and there are still more to come. So many story threads to juggle… Why did we do this to you? Why did we do this to ourselves?

According to canon Reeve designed/built the reactors and designed/built Midgar, except also according to canon the Nibel Reactor was built before Reeve was born and he would only have been around five when construction on Midgar started. So here I have him as the second head of Urban Development, inheriting it from an OC, Edgar - you could maybe think of him as VI's Edgar, if you want, though I didn't think of that when coming up with the name.

And lastly, a sort of meta note about the fic's themes. There's a reason we picked a quote from Reeve to use as the summary. "How many hours have we wasted, collectively, thinking about what we could have done differently?" That's as good of summation of fix-it-fic as we can think of, and this chapter is a big huge articulation of this theme, through the character that we think has the most regrets of all.

Happy holidays, and we'll be back in January with a good ol' fashioned fistfight. See you then!