Okay, okay, fine. It's out, and so's school *Jumps around the room wildly until she realized she's got to finish the introduction* YAY!! I'm putting a lot of work into this fic, so you better darn well appreciate it! I just not realized that unless I want this book to go on ^forever^ I've got to plan out where I want the chapters to go, which is not easy, let me tell you! I'm never going to finish my independent novel at this rate. I also spent like thirty bucks on Learn Japanese stuff at the bookstore, so I've got to get to that sometime this summer. *Sigh* Oh well . . .
AC 208: The Search for Truth (Part II)
"Dawn"
Dawn over the jungles of Thailand was an amazing sight when a few shy clouds hung in the sky, foreshadows of the coming rains that would bring relief to the village farmers, and the plants and animals shivered either toward or away from the red and gold light. Dawn found a lone woman making her way nimbly through the overgrowth, shunning the machete at her belt for the life of the forest. In her dark clothing, summer-humidity thin and just as plainly native to the land, Phailin fought to the monastery and temple secluded within the deepest part of the forest.
The town meeting would not be until later, and she was making good time and would probably be there in time to take a bath beforehand.
She had been so angry to discover the shrine near her village vandalized. There should have been some awareness to who had been in the vicinity, but everyone had claimed no knowledge of the incident. The gold Buddha had been partially melted and chipped; the jade Budistafahs smashed; the marble signs shattered and covered with graffiti; the pond polluted; the beautiful cherry wood shrine burned to ashes . . . her hands shook at the macabre memories. It wasn't recent, and it implied to her that the villagers had not been the guardians they had promised her to be in her absence. Guilt wreaked havoc with her conscience. She should not have been gone so long.
The grounds of the monastery and temple were so quiet and abandoned, but well-kept by the monks. No one had journeyed this far to worship— which told her a lot about those convictions in these times. She left her sandals by the entrance gate (no one would steal them) and took out her hair, letting it fall its full length to her waist. It shimmered gently in the post-dawn sun, which cast a golden light across the temple murals and statues. If she was going to appeal to her God, it was only right to be in a natural state. She knelt at the great idol and touched her forehead to the cool stones. It felt so good to have the heat taken from her skull, as though he almost knew she was suffering badly.
What is there, if I cannot find a peace through this maelstrom of confusion? She asked. That poor Chang girl . . . she has been beaten badly enough to be bedridden only because of her name. If Chatalerm had been a tricky storyteller, as I was with my husband, they would have given no trouble of wrongful accusations. My village has lost the faith, O Great One, and I can't restore it. I'm not fit to be guardian of your temple. It's been decimated. Tears pattered against the stones beneath her. It was selfish to say she was trying hard, but she was! My security and family is shattered, scattered to the winds. I want to live without these burdens. Have me suffer with crusade at least, not of futility!
But then, of course he knew. She was one of his most devoted, and had no doubt that he was always watching. Wufei had always said it had been strange to see her so faithful to a god when she was so hopelessly critical of everything else. In all these years and through all this suffering, his words about life— that it is suffering— had always spoken to her as truly, unarguably wise. In all his wisdom, he sent her relief from her guilt.
Two monks, talking quietly, approached down the garden path. The taller one picked up on her sobs and turned, curious. Unaware, Phailin sat up and bowed her head, wiping at her eyes dully, thinking that he hadn't heard her cry. The spoken word of her name caused her to jump. The sight of the monk filled her with relief and comfort, much pleasant after the hopelessness she'd just resigned herself to.
"Well, my gem, you're a sight for sore eyes." In times long gone, monks had maintained a code of silence among those who weren't themselves devoted to Buddha as a fellow, but the code had changed drastically, and Chatchom had always been particularly sympathetic and helpful. The king himself often came for advice from Chatchom, seeing as how he was also the youngest brother of their family. "What road has made you weary?"
"Many, many things, Holy One," she answered quietly, feeling the tears start to dry. She'd forgotten he was living at this monastery these days. "I've been away much too long."
The monk made a respectful bow to the Buddha. "I am sorry to take this young lady from your hands, lord, but there is much news to be heard! Proper worship comes in time. You have bestowed great license to me about that, many thanks indeed." He stood and offered a hand. "Come, my niece. So little news has passed from the mouths of the few travelers we get here."
She took the hand and walked beside him to a bench near the pools. As a child, she'd felt dwarfed by him, and the proportions seemed to have changed none. Chatchom was still as skinny as a twig (as anyone would be on a diet of rice and water) but he was much taller than lanky Trowa. It was a bit of an anomaly, considering that both his older brothers were/had been no taller than Phailin was currently. He was by no means stunning, but a very openly handsome, intelligent, friendly man. She'd always wondered what his mother had looked like, since she'd died in childbirth. "My, you're hair has gotten long since I last saw," he muttered, stroking some of it with a delicate hand.
She smiled a little. "Last time you saw it, it was a millimeter long!"
Chatchom chuckled mischievously. "I can't believe we were actually able to fool the 'Dalai Lama—'" a nickname for the very bossy monk in charge of that temple— "that you were a boy! The look on his face I'll never forget!"
She laughed, catching his optimistic mood. "You almost got kicked out for that. And that trick about body-binding has come in handy more than once, I'll tell you."
His eyebrows arched. "Ah, yes, how goes the Hunt? Your grandfather was very proud when he'd heard your conviction, before he died."
The comment about her grandfather dead stung like ice in the heart, even though Chatchom was talking about his father, but she managed to stick to the subject. "The Hunt's been over for a few years. It seemed to be becoming more and more tiring, and I had other commitments . . ."
She had intended to catch him with the cliffhanger sentence, and it quickly caught. Chatchom was always very "with it" for a monk, and he enjoyed talking to teens and young adults about something that of which he was deprived. It was a twist on the rules that had angered his fellow Oranges but not the God. You couldn't find a kinder-hearted man than Chatchom. "What might those "commitments" have been, story-spinner?"
She grinned. "When I was Chang hunting, I met a rather handsome Chinese man. He was infatuated with me because I looked and acted like a woman he had loved very much before she'd died, and I saw in him a greater respect for me than he was willing to admit. That's the short version, but between falling in love and getting jobs in Bangkok, the story would be epic!"
Chatchom nodded and grinned. "I will have to meet a man so worthy of your affections!"
Her face quickly fell. "That won't be possible soon," she said quietly. "I don't know when my husband's coming home."
His sympathy comforted her greatly. "Has he gone to the war in space?"
"As a favor for a close friend. I'm not worried for his life, but . . ."
Chatchom listened with no sign of boredom or indifference while she unburdened all of the things she'd bee worried about. He'd objected strongly when she'd claimed to not being worthy to care for the shrine, seeing as how its care had been greatly neglected. She also admitted her fear about the bandits and bounty hunters, grieving for her grandfather against his warm shoulder. And finally, when she was all cried out, he spoke words of encouragement and advice softly into her ear as lovingly as her father would have. "Even tough women must sleep," he told her. "But too many more spirits side for you than against. You will get through, Phailin. I don't see how you couldn't."
The visit over, it was time for him to finish his abandoned worship rounds, and she hers.
She didn't return to Buddha. He had already done more for her than she was willing to ask of him. She prayed to the various undergods and goddesses for luck, fortune, wisdom, sight, courage and fertility. She prayed on behalf of the Chang girl and Chatalerm. She prayed that Wufei would be safe and make a quick return home. She prayed that her grandfather's sprit made it safely back into the world and attained reincarnation. She prayed for Chatchom, that he would continue to help and guard her in this time of fragility. She prayed life would sustain and triumph, even though she wanted to share it with her husband now. The sun was high in the sky when she finally found the strength to carry her own weight again.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
"Since it's obvious you already know, yes, Trowa asked me to come here and help you." Wufei took a small bow in Mariemaia's direction. "Since it was inevitable that I join this war, I figured I might as well be with the rest of the loners than paired with one side or another. I have cut my ties to Earth entirely. Both they and Beliv recognize me as an outsider."
"What about your wife? I've known you long enough, Wufei, to know you would rather die than leave her behind." Marie sat at the other end of the interrogation table, Ben at one shoulder and Dennis at the other.
"Oh, make no mistake of it. I intend to return to Phailin as soon as this wretched affair is over. For now, however, I have terminated all connections to Earth. No messages will be sent, even to your uncle or my wife. I intend to hide nothing from you."
"Marie, I don't know . . ." Dennis said.
"Something smells funny," Ben agreed. "He still hasn't given us a reason."
Marie moved to disagree, but realized he had a point. "Tell us, Wufei, why you decided to leave everything behind."
Wufei's eyes unfocused briefly, as if facing some internal conflict. "Earth has become a madhouse," he said finally. "The army is in ruins, the people's faith has been torn time and time again, and without a faction leader like Treize Khushrenada we don't have a strong man or woman to guide us to victory. Une tries her best, but she was never half as strong as he. The colonies were right in judging that we cannot unite properly. Milliardo's Sac Kingdom has tried so very hard, but it is still so controversial and trails behind it many defeats and disappointments. My wife is in a secluded enough place so she won't be affected, but if we had both remained in Bangkok I'd still be fearing for our lives much more."
Marie felt herself shiver. Wufei's words had confirmed the numerous and practically identical testimony of the new people coming from Earth
"How's my uncle?" she asked quietly.
Wufei's face brightened a bit. "Trowa's been better these days. He wanted to send you a message that he wants you to be careful but by no means does he want you to stop what you're doing. You know how he's always had that lion-heart of his; He thinks your courage will unite people. He told me he had the feeling you'd be back, and I think he's right. He's found a ladyfriend to distract him now, so I don't see grief whenever your name is mentioned any more."
So Quatre had been cast off? That was too bad, since the gentile man had always been some help in suppressing her pain. Oh well, it wasn't like she'd never see him again.
"I hate to say it, gentlemen," she told Dennis and Ben, "but I'm inclined to trust to him. See that he gets settled aboard ship. Then— and only then, Ben— we will discuss why I have come to this decision."
Ben's fist clenched under the table, but he let it go. Mariemaia was still the one in charge, and she knew Wufei better than anyone else on board.
Dennis, who was less inclined to dislike Wufei, found a spare quarter and agreed to help move things. As he had minimal knowledge about machinery and only served as the strategist, and therefore felt the need to assist with things requiring a slim adolescent body and young strong back, such as carrying luggage.
Marie sought counsel from Fortuna.
::I see no reason to be worried. From what you have implied, this Chang Wu Fei has too much at stake to gamble on risking a betrayal aboard ship. Your crew is too tight with you to accept such a betrayal if they found out, and he would most likely be killed. Is he a good pilot?::
Mariemaia laughed, surprised that the gundam would not know about him. She had appeared to have knowledge of the other gundams. "He pilots the old-style gundam Shenlong," she said, "of which you must know."
::Shenlong is here with him?:: The gundam had such an urgency in what she hesitated to call her voice. It was certainly audible to everything within range, but Fortuna didn't have vocal chords.
"Yeah, he came in with the rest of Wufei's supplies. He brought a generous amount of donated stuff from Earth." Marie was slightly puzzled at Fortuna's sudden interest. She was usually very aloof and unexcitable.
::What's he like?::
"Wufei? He's kind of a loner, kind of full of himself sometimes. I don't know him that well, though he was a friend of my uncle's for a long time. I have mixed feelings about getting to know him . . . since he's the one that killed my father."
There was silence, though Mariemaia sensed conflict within the Gundam. ::Is that so?:: she asked finally. ::I never thought him capable. I have made a severe misjudgement on his behalf. I'm not in for a particularly pleasant future, I suppose.::
Mariemaia chose not to answer that. She wasn't sure exactly what Fortuna was talking about anyway. "There's always been the controversy about whether or not he actually wanted Wufei to kill him. I've never really talked to him about it."
::Your father or Chang?:: Fortuna snapped back on subject with a suddenness that was disconcerting. Marie got the suspicion that she was covering something up, and logged it in the back of her brain to inquire about another day.
"I don't talk to my father at all," she said, sounding hurt. "You know that."
::Just a thought, but he might be able to give you some insight on that particular topic.:: The comment dripped with sarcasm.
"Oh yeah, I forgot you don't know how to suffer," she bit back. "You're just a machine."
This time the words were laden with underlying threats. ::Don't play on ignorance, girl. Anything that thinks can suffer, and has. Don't assume I haven't felt as much pain as yourself.::
Mariemaia felt her muscles clench beyond movement, as if the icy words had indeed frozen her. Was it possible— no, she shoved the thought out of her head. Fortuna couldn't control her.
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," the ghost said, and she spotted him perched upon the dark green shoulder armor.
"Will you go away?" she bit out, decidedly pissed.
His expression was full of simpering. "Being in more dimensions than the average person has certain advantages. If you wanted to, you could know everything about Fortuna. I could show you."
"Don't bait me," she growled, definitely not in the mood to put up with the harassment. "I don't need help with my life."
"All right, I was only offering," he threw up his hands and faded.
She shivered inwardly. She had no way of knowing if he was still watching her or not. It really shatters one's sense of security.
::As I was saying,:: Fortuna said, obviously irritated, ::I can't abandon my mission.::
It took Mariemaia a moment to figure out what she meant. "I wasn't talking to you. I need you right now. I was telling him to leave me alone!"
Although the Gundam must have had no idea who she meant as "him," all she said was ::ah.::
It struck Mariemaia only later that she had missed the fact that Fortuna had mentioned a mission.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
"And so it begins," Heero said quietly, staring out the window at the permanent half-dawn outside the Stardust Hotel, "Just as it did so many years ago."
Relena closed her eyes, willing herself to remember only the better times they had spent here. It had been right here, ten years ago, when she'd finally found him again. She leaned against her husband, not daring to believe it'd really been ten years since they had stood at the same window, looking over the same sunrise, braving the delicate petals of a newborn love. It was even the same room.
He held her tightly, on hand stroking her hair possessively, exactly the same as they had done that night when they'd had enough to drink to loosen up. It was something they had neglected to tell the others that the night then had not been so much new as awkward. In the heat of the moment later that Christmas Day, after he'd sworn never to kill again, everything had first transpired. It was something truly private, as they had merely been teenagers, victims of their raging hormones and with a single output: each other. Later, she had learned had been afraid her morals were driving her to seek a guilt-driven love for him. It had been so strange when he'd admitted after dinner that night that she was the only reason he'd stopped considering a suicide that wouldn't fail. He'd promised himself that he'd find her as soon as he'd found out who he was, though now he knew it was a futile prospect. It had made her feel all the more right to come look for him.
She remembered the hopelessness and despair she'd felt, coming up with few clues through the long nights. It was over the next two years that she had come to realize that she'd fallen in love with him; that it wasn't merely lust and animal attraction. He'd confessed that it had been the hardest thing for him to do, leave her alone for his own selfish reasons, but when she'd confronted him with why, he'd exclaimed that he really hadn't known. His mind worked as if on remote control sometimes.
He rocked her gently, unable to think of anything to say. Intimate moments like these were rare now, and he didn't want to ruin it by saying something. Her body was soft beneath her silk pajamas, her breath warm against his chest, gentile like a summer breeze. She was mother of their two children, a secretly beautiful lover and invaluable friend. She was his inner strength as much as he was her outward toughness. If ever a perfect union was possible, he was certain it was with them. He couldn't help but marvel at all they'd managed to survive the furious world still together. If there were such a thing as a perfect moment, he would have to have believed it was then. If only it could have lasted forever . . .
"Knock, knock," Duo said quietly. "Sorry to disturb you guys, but you insisted on a late-night meeting." He closed the door behind him, snatching a chair from the table and straddling it.
"Come on, kanojo," Heero whispered, reluctantly sliding his arms from around her.
Relena made a small noise of protest, lifted her head and kissed him, only then electing to back away voluntarily. Heero and Relena walked over to the couch and settled down, hands still stubbornly clutching at each other.
"C'mon, Soph!" Duo looked in the direction of his wife, who was sitting with her laptop on the other side of the room.
"Oh, hush," she sighed, tearing herself away from something obviously interesting. She joined her husband in the circle. Just as obviously weary, she leaned her head on Duo's shoulder.
"We're all tired, sweetheart," Duo assured her.
And before they could get anywhere, Sophie's personal phone rang. She sighed and answered it. There was a brief conversation full of protests before she ran off into the other room. Her father David was evidently the caller.
"Wonder what that's about," Duo muttered.
Relena closed her eyes and started to drift off again, and was shook gently by Heero when Sophie returned. "Dad says he's going to try and get us a connection with a laboratory that logs everything ever recorded in scientific context, even out in the border colonies. It'll be convenient, since the lab is on one of the colonies where we could find 'anonymous' sponsors."
"You father has those kinds of connections?" Relena asked, suddenly curious. Sophie was a private investigator who lived on exactly that. "It must run in the family."
"He's Jewish," she said, a half-smile on her stressed face. "For a long time Jews have been repressed, and to resist we formed an underground network that later branched out to just about everything. I can mention my father's name on any colony and someone will house us and feed us and give us money and offer to sweep our slates clean. He's a powerful man, which is why my mother stayed married to him for so long."
"What exactly will this lab be able to tell us?" Heero asked, trying to stick to the subject. He had intended to discuss their next move from here.
"From the way he described it, they can take blood samples from us and try and run DNA matches. If blood has been logged on any computer that matches our children's, we'll have the location of where they're being held. If they're moving around— which is what I suspect— we may be able to detect a pattern."
"Why do you think they're being held in a lab so much, Soph?" Duo seemed frightened at the thought.
"Think about it," Heero answered for her. "What else would Beliv want with them? If they're holding them captive anyway, why not try and figure out what makes a great pilot? The only thing more valuable would probably be my own genetic structure, or yours."
"Like it or not, it's the most plausible theory," Sophie added, as Duo looked sick.
"I hope their not hurting them," Relena wanted nothing more than to know they were all right. If I could just talk to them . . . But the mental bond that had always existed had almost snapped. A horrid thought occurred to her. "Oh, Heero, what if they wiped their memories? What if they don't recognize us? What if they don't know who we are? I don't think I could bear it!"
Heero squeezed her waist. "If that's the case, I'll do anything to help them remember. There's no drug that can kill memory, love. I know, because sometimes I get bits of it back."
And you've been part of that, was the unspoken conclusion to that sentence. She'd heard it before, and took it as yet more evidence that they were meant for each other.
"But we can't just go there directly," Duo said, getting impatient. "It would look too obvious, especially since it's pretty far from Earth. We'll have to work our way outward, and that will take time."
"We have to hit the major money hubs, and I'm a little rusty on the economics out there," Relena picked up the conversation. "Sophie, you're probably more recent—"
"I could show you on a map," she confirmed. "But let's take a few days to get oriented. I don't know who'll respond well, and if we want to look desperate we have to hit as many that won't help as who will. It will be a little difficult to coordinate, but time is indefinitely to our advantage. If Beliv wanted to have killed Vince and your two, he would have slit their throats in their beds, not gone through this elaborate and expensive and risky feat. Damaged spirits can be recovered more easily than damaged bodies in children."
"All too true," Duo said, looking conflicted. "Though I wish we had more of a time crunch. God, I miss him."
Sophie put her arm around him and there was a moment of silence between the four of them.
Duo yawned comically suddenly, and they all burst out laughing under the tension. "Glad I could be of some help, but I think I'm telling myself it's time for bed. I'm goin' back to my room."
Just like that, Duo and Sophie disappeared and Heero and Relena were left alone once again.
"I'm not tired," Relena said. "I don't think I'll sleep until I have my arms around my babies again."
Heero drew her into a long kiss, his worries working their way to the surface now that they were with only with each other. "They'll probably squirm," he said, then said in a high voice like a child, "Please, mom! You're embarrassing me! Let me go! "
She smiled. "That sounds like our Kik."
He pulled her close, wanting the comfort she gave him when they were in each other's arms. "There are so many memories here, from both times before. How can one place mean so much?"
Relena recalled the youthful spirits who tossed about on the couch they now sat on, and the almost-adults who had allowed everything else to interfere that had no right to even be in the position to do so. Ghosts of their younger days filled the room, their actions, which had seemed so meaningless when they had first happened, meant everything when viewed as the connections that they truly had been.
"Because love always has roots. This is just a place we flee when we've lost our leaves. Things will get better from hereon out. I know they will. It always has."
"Once is chance, twice is coincidence . . . but three times leaves no room for speculation," Heero finished the quote that they had been constructing there for ten years. "This place might as well have our names on it."
With no reason not to, they set out to make the cycle complete.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
Quatre watched the dawn as it broke over the stage. News crews bustled about, and technicians wired the stage for the announcement. The results of the meeting were to be announced later that morning, but all he really felt like doing was sleeping. They were in Rome, and he and Milliardo and Noin had been called in to a late-night meeting with about thirty colony leaders, all newly flown in. It had been declared an "emergency" and both the blondes had panicked, but apparently in the colonies an "emergency" meant "let's get this over with."
But there had been no point in yelling about it, so they had let it go and yawned their way through the six-hour meeting. The meeting really hadn't been that pointed either. Quatre had been more and more surprised lately about the randomness of direction the colonies had politically. It seemed like a ploy to distract Earth and its army. And, as Quatre was certain of, if Earth and the colonies could not unite, Beliv could easily gain control.
"It just doesn't seem right," he commented to Milliardo.
"Damn straight," the older man said. "They're hiding something big, that's plain to see. I think someone up there's betrayed us."
"But why?"
He chuckled dryly. "You would have never known, would you? Of course, you were too close to see what's truly happening. There are old resentments left over from Operation Meteor. The colonies still see Earth as an overprotective mother. They want the freedom of making their own destiny, and Earth keeps pulling them back. If we could convince them that they'll get their freedom after they help us with the war, we might be able to pull things off, but that would be one amazing task."
"There's no way we could ever win them over," Noin said definitively. "Such an abrupt change of heart would be suspicious in the least. The truth is, they need us. We depend on their supplies, but we give them money and more people and a solid support in case something unpredictable happens. They're like teenagers; They don't want to admit they still have use for us when they dislike the way we take advantage of their dependence."
Quatre noted mentally that Noin was making a lot of parent-child associations these days. She'd better watch things when she was speaking in public, or someone might notice. They wanted to keep the baby private, as Heero and Relena had tried desperately to do, but also because they were scared Beliv would try and target them as well. "I guess people just don't want to tell the truth," he said. "No matter how hard it's staring them in the face."
"Isn't that ironic," Milliardo muttered.
Quatre left the couple to talk alone and wandered around the garden at the compound, trying to appreciate the ancient statues and frescos that in part had made the Roman culture so famous. He found himself wondering about who the artist was, and the subject. Without being a historian, he had no way of telling.
Why would the colonies want to abandon Earth? It didn't make sense. It was an ideal arrangement and equally beneficial to both sides. He came to settle on that Noin was probably right in the fact that it was merely a parent-child feud. They rebelled and Earth pursued. They fought and Earth argued. The human mentality towards free has taken on the meaning of all or nothing, Quatre thought. But if that's true, than we'll have to consider them a real threat.
Colony clusters L1, L2, L3, L4 and L5 may not have said anything about war, but they were ready to spring on it, should the opportunity even come close to being there. Quatre felt the compulsion to go check up on Milliardo and Noin. If the colonies turned against Earth, they were all stardust.
~~@[~*,~]@~~
"Lucrezia . . ." Milliardo scanned the crowd and turned back to her, worried. "I don't have a good feeling about any of this."
He was tense. He'd been tense ever since the meeting had started. He was starting to get on her nerves, but she knew that was only because she was tense too. When they were both nervous, it was a serious signal that something was wrong. Especially when he called her by her first name. "I know. Me too."
He put one hand over hers, seeking the touch that always seemed to bring reality back. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I get a premonition of danger. You try and stay out of the line of fire, okay?"
"Haven't I always?" she asked. "I've either got nine lives or someone looks out for me. Usually it's you. I think if anyone should stay secluded, it's you, King Peacecraft."
She could see the muscles working in his jaw as his teeth clenched. "Maybe we should move somewhere more sheltered."
Quatre returned and spotted them, now lurking in a dark corner. Hiding had never been particularly hard for the two Specials officers. "It's almost eight. Aren't you going to go listen to the statement?"
"We can hear from here," Noin said. "It's not very comfortable out in the sun."
His face grew curious. "Ah. Trouble?"
"Just a minor suspicion. No sense in taking chances," Milliardo explained quickly, trying to convey that he wished to drop the topic.
What was mainly a press conference was called into order then, though Quatre was more interested in looking for threats. He had come (undercover) as their bodyguard, and his patrol of the garden had been as much a measure of security as time to himself.
Noin and Milliardo, however, prepared to log every word of the delegate's speech. Practically nothing had been accomplished during the late-night meeting, but it would be interesting to see what conclusions they had drawn from that.
The mayor of the city introduced the L1 Cluster's main man as Representative Dewani Justus, speaker for all the colonies. He was of medium height, medium build, young and idealistic-looking. Milliardo could see at once why they had chosen him. He looked like a dreamer, a pioneer, someone to lead them on new prospects. Suddenly, he knew every word that was going to come out of the man's mouth, and felt all the worse for it.
Justus shuffled a bit before he decided he was settled at the podium. "As you all are probably aware, the colonies and Earth have in recent years had difficult relations, all of which resulted, understandably, from faults that were no one's but the own orchestrator's— may we not mention names. Of course, we can only sit back and watch history take its course, ourselves only couriers of a truth that is highly subject to our own actions. It is that which determined to us, the ambassadors of the colonies L1, L2, L3, L4 and L5 that we will not continue to consider themselves part of the Earth Sphere.
Milliardo cast his eyes aside and nodded to himself. Yes, that's exactly what he'd expected. They would claim to fight on their side, but if the going got tough— which was what it was likely to do— they would pull out like the traitorous rats they were. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
Justice waited for the excited murmurs to calm down before he continued. He flashed a great big grin just to assure people not to assume too much. "Now, don't just automatically think we're going the way the Colony Alliance did. Each of our clusters intends to be its own nation, and we fully plan to aid Earth in the war, since it was as much declared against the earth as ourselves. I have a great faith in the alliance we'll form, and it will be much more beneficial in the long run!"
"For whom?" Noin muttered.
"It leaves a lot of room for suspicion," Milliardo added.
"Representative Justus, what exactly has gone sour between Earth and the colonies?" Called one reporter. She looked decidedly familiar. Quatre faintly recognized her as one he'd seen just about everywhere the gundam pilots had been, yet he'd never heard of her news network. That was interesting . . .
"I'm glad you asked that, Lady," Justus responded without missing a beat. "And let me assure the public that it is not a matter or soured relations, just a mere difference of opinions. I have spoken with the delegates from Earth, and although they predictably don't love the idea, they're not ready to turn us into enemies, heavens no! The only outcomes of this separation should be a lightening of the pressures we have all felt of the— unfair— prejudices between our citizens and better economy through trading that has competition instead of government restrictions."
Justus continued to take questions, which were really irrelevant. He'd covered the main idea, and all three of the not-so-happy-campers could plainly see they were expecting the planet to fall to Beliv's forces. But we'd been getting information that Marie had been keeping him off the colonies, Quatre thought. Whose information was false?
As the conference began to dissolve, Quatre was accompanying Milliardo and Noin to their car when he felt an odd tingling in his spine. Hoping to look inconspicuous, he sidled up to Noin and, his hand hidden in the shadow between them, slid his compact rifle from its wrist holder. "I think we got trouble," he whispered out of the side of his mouth. "Try and get in front of Milliardo.
"Quatre—?" Milliardo turned with a curious look when Noin did as told and tried to overtake her husband.
Quatre tried to give him a "don't look like you know anything" signal but it was too late. The man who had been following them noticed the reaction. Knowing unconsciously that it was too late to look nonchalant, Quatre spun around and threw himself in precisely the right direction. A colony guard that had been uncomfortably close to them during the brief announcement had his own nine-millimeter halfway out of his hip holster, but that halfway wasn't good enough. He hadn't expected the undercover blonde to come hurtling at him.
It was a good, clean tackle, with a yell from the bodyguard to summon the police (several of which arrived within seconds). A hard blow against the concrete had dazed the guard, and Quatre quickly disarmed him. He turned to make sure Milliardo and Noin were all right, and felt the barrel of a gun touch his temple. Okay, so the potential assassin had an accomplice. He froze, his first suspect pinned beneath him. "Make one sound and I'll blow your brains out your nose," a deep, husky female voice said.
Unfortunately, she'd failed to take into account the fact that Quatre had two loaded guns fast enough. Blindly, he fired in the voice's direction and ducked in case of a reflex shot, but it didn't come. He turned to see the woman staring dumbly at the bullet hole in her stomach. Quatre caught her as she fell forward, dropping the gun in shock. "Milliardo, Noin, get out of here. Go on ahead. I have to fill out reports anyway!" he called, but the King and his Queen had long since fled to the safety of their car.
An hour later, in the custody of the local sheriff and after numerous interrogations, Quatre got the news that the woman had died. He cursed, although he'd known full well that the chance had been there when he'd fired. Now, though, the colonies had something against Earth. He was certain that they wouldn't mention that he'd done it in self-defense, or that she'd been assigned to assist in assassinating Milliardo and/or Lucrezia Noin Peacecraft. Quatre recalled a line from a famous work of literature; "It was a time of dark, dark despair."
In the end, with Trowa in London going over terms of law and liability and the testimony of several eyewitnesses, the deputy was able to log the shooting and death of the woman as self-defense. Quatre breathed a sigh of relief on behalf of the Sanc Kingdom, but knew he still had a lot of personal guilt to fight off. Then, there was the fact that the colonies would want his head. It was best to flee back to the refuge the Peacecraft country offered before he was caught out in the open. How good it would be just to get back and sleep after over twenty-four hours without that luxury!
As he signed his papers and took the last leave of the station, he paused to watch the late-night news on the television in the waiting area. There was coverage of the conference, the conclusion announced by Rep. Justus, and afterward the attempted shooting. One of the press cameras had caught Quatre's tackle, and he couldn't help but marvel at how quick his reaction had been. Gundam pilot reflexes never truly went away, no matter how much you tried to grow out of them, he reflected.
Absently, he wondered if the human race would ever outgrow anger, violence and war.
Before he could run out the door, the secretary called for him. "Mr. Winner, there's someone on the phone who would like to speak with you."
Quatre grudgingly accepted the receiver. "This is Quatre Winner speaking."
"Mr. Winner, this is Kammie Exeter from a news company in London. I was wondering, perhaps, if we could arrange for an interview. I would like to get your opinion on the conference."
"I won't be able to release any information that the police hasn't authorized me to," he warned her. "I follow the law."
"Of course, Mr. Winner, I understand. If I have your consent, however, I would like to have a word or two with you. I won't pry if you tell me I can't hold certain information. I, too, follow the law, and respect it. You're a respectable man, Mr. Winner."
Quatre accepted the sideways compliment with little more than an acknowledging word. "I would like to get some rest tonight, and I have a long way home. I'll keep an unoccupied time slot for myself at fifteen-thirty, local time. I'll inform the guard at the Sanc Kingdom border you have my permission to pass, and I'll have an escort bring you to a specified location. We'll meet there, okay?"
"Certainly. Thank you very much, Mr. Winner."
"Don't mention it," he said. "Seriously."
Yes, now he remembered her. She was the reporter intent on drinking up all the major stories of the war. Maybe it was an active history project. Whatever it was, he would stick to the truth.
Yawning, he made his way out to the waiting car and thought happily of a restful night's sleep.
********************************************
Now write conclusion. Yeah.
Well, I'm out of clever things to say, really.
Oh, if you like, check out Legend of Destiny by The Phoenix. It's really cool (although it's not Gundam :-P) I helped edit it, so you know it's worth it!
Check out Chapter 3 l8er: AC 208: The Search for Truth (Part III): "The Player's Strategy."
-Itsumo