Yesterday I had a dream
where I felt as though reality
Left me standing at a void in the morning sunrise
Frantically I called your name, for I feared that you had left me
Like a child I cried alone for the sight of your eyes
-- "Airmail from the Moon"
* * *
On Earth, at Logan International
airport in Boston, a shuttle prepared for takeoff. Technicians
swarmed outside of it, adjusting hoses, filling tanks, loading
luggage, or checking readouts. The sheer amount of work required
to launch a shuttle to a colony was enormous -- as was the
expense. And so it was rare that the airport staff launched a
shuttle out of schedule, but in the case of emergencies, they
prided themselves on being able to launch a shuttle with two
hour's notice.
Inside the cockpit of the
shuttle, the captain and his copilot checked and rechecked all
the readings on the dashboard, confirming that they matched those
being reported by the technicians outside. The elderly, elegant
captain had managed to retain a jolly air about himself despite
having been through hell and back in the wars several years
earlier. He turned toward his younger copilot, and smiled
slightly to himself. The younger man was engrossed in his work,
as always.
"Not only is the meeting so
important as to require a special flight for Vice Minister
Darlian, they're even giving her the best piloting team in the
fleet," the captain said lightly. It was his secret goal to
cause some sort of reaction from his quiet copilot on every
flight. More often than not he failed, but despite his mysterious
demeanor, the young man was truly one of the best in the fleet.
And this is why Heero Yuy, age
18, only made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and
continued to check off readings. But then he glanced out of the
window to where the foreign minister stood, and the captain
thought he saw a glance of naked wistfulness on the boy's face.
"Yeah," Heero finally
said, not looking at the captain. "Relena's something
special, all right."
* * *
Relena Darlian, née Peacecraft,
tried to board the shuttle with as little fanfare as possible.
She was followed closely by her primary assistant, Dorothy
Catalonia, who kept shooting dark glances to those whom she found
suspicious around them. Relena wore a simple dark blue traveling
suit, and her hair was pulled back into its usual loose ponytail.
The entourage for the Ministry
sat in the empty first class section. It bothered Relena that an
entire shuttle flight had been rescheduled just for her, but as
the Ministry of Science had offered to pay for it from their own
budget, she could hardly refuse. She did wonder why the Ministry
of Science wanted her so desperately for what had sounded like a
dry, academic lecture on the recently detected radio signals from
space.
"I still don't see why this
trip is necessary, Miss Relena," Dorothy said, her voice not
betraying a hint of malice to those inexperienced with dealing
with her. "We have much more important things do than chase
after silly fake radio signals from outer space."
Relena agreed with her assistant
privately, but had to play the devil's advocate in order to
justify the trip to herself. "We don't know for sure that
they are 'fake.' And I was requested specifically by the Ministry
of Science. I have to do this." Relena opened up her carryon
bag and found a small hand mirror. "This project was being
headed up by Lady Une, after all, and you know I trust her
implicitly. " Relena fiddled with her bangs. She was very
glad that she'd adopted the hairstyle from her brother two years
ago. The soft wings framing her face flattered her sharp jaw line
much more than her old hairstyle had. She gave her bangs one
final tug while Dorothy frowned at the seat in front of her.
"Perhaps I just don't
understand that part, Miss Relena. What could fancy radio signals
possibly have to do with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs? Just
because they appear to be coming from a hunk of titanium on the
edge of the solar system..." Dorothy borrowed Relena's
mirror before she could put it away, and checked on the state of
her own usually impeccable hair.
Relena sighed and took her
mirror back from Dorothy, who was fought for a few seconds,
reluctant to give it up. "I just don't know, Dorothy. I just
don't know."
* * *
Heero flicked on the cockpit
view screen. The image of the shuttle's cabin immediately
blossomed before him. Relena and Dorothy Catalonia appeared to be
fighting over some object. Heero never understood why Relena
still had Dorothy as her assistant -- especially after all the
social climbing stunts the blonde girl had pulled, not to mention
her betrayals during the war. But that was Relena. She could
forgive anyone, probably. She'd forgiven Zechs, she'd forgiven
Lady Une, and she'd forgiven him.
Relena looked so . . . content.
Although her face showed signs of worry, she appeared healthy and
full of life. Heero touched her image on the screen, hardly
conscious that he did so. Yes, she had forgiven him, even though
Heero wondered if he'd ever be able to fully forgive himself.
* * *
Relena started.
"Heero," she said automatically in surprise, then
wondered why she'd suddenly had a vision of the former Gundam
pilot. She hadn't seen him since he'd left (without saying
good-bye, as usual) at the wedding of Noin and Zechs three months
earlier.
Dorothy glanced at her, arching
one bifurcated eyebrow. "Are you still thinking about that
boy, Miss Relena?" she asked smoothly.
Relena blushed faintly. "I
tell you, I've gotten over him. I'm sure I have. But . . . "
"But?" Dorothy
pressed.
"But sometimes I feel as
though he's watching over me. Just watching. Just making sure I'm
safe. Strange, isn't it?"
* * *
"She's about your age,
isn't she, lad?" the captain commented casually. Heero
caught himself and turned the cabin view screen off.
"Yeah," he confirmed,
hesitantly. "She's a few months younger than me." And a
few worlds apart, he added to himself. It was true. Since the
defeat of Dekim during the Barton War, the former princess had
risen gracefully through the world of politics, and had even been
nominated to the position of President, although she had yet to
accept that post. She already had the respect and trust of the
people, invaluable to anyone in politics. And she had already
ruled the world once before, albeit briefly and as a figurehead.
The captain smiled to himself.
His almost emotionless copilot buried his feelings deeply, but
something -- or someone -- he apparently felt so strongly about
managed to break through the calm demeanor he maintained.
Whenever they flew Relena Darlian, Heero Yuy showed a small but
substantial crack in his armor.
* * *
The shuttle took off for outer
space without a hitch, and in a few short hoursthe automatic
systems guided it into the stable zero-G center of Colony One.
* * *
The Foreign Ministry party
disembarked, struggling, stretching, unfolding from their cramped
position on the shuttle, and then the press assaulted them with
no warning, washing over them like a warm tidal wave of flashing
lights and eager ears.
"Congratulations on your
recent nomination to the Presidency, Miss Darlian. Any thoughts
on the upcoming election?"
"No comment."
"How will this signal from
space affect your stance on pacifism?"
"No comment," Relena
answered again, as she and Dorothy battled their way through the
crowd. She remembered the days when her father had gone through
much the same thing, before the war. The trick was to keep your
face blank and not let anything anyone said cause any reaction at
all. Fortunately, Relena had had several excellent poker face
role models to follow during the wars, and she had perfected her
own long ago. There is a time to smile and a time to frown, and
with the papparazie, it is neither.
"Miss Relena, is it true
that you are having an affair with the entrepreneur Quatre
Raberba Winner? Are there any plans for marriage in the
works?"
Relena did not even grace that
question with a response. Dorothy plowed through the paparazzi in
front of her, not caring whose feet she stepped on in doing so.
"Make way for the vice
foreign minister!" she shouted angrily, but the press opted
to ignore her and kept on asking questions.
Finally, they reached the
outside of the airport. Dorothy and Relena leapt into the waiting
black ground car like trained gazelles, and the press found
themselves locked outside. The car immediately pulled away.
"It gets worse every time," Relena gasped, leaning
gratefully against the door, clutching her carryon bag as if it
were the only defense between her and the sharks outside.
"That is the price you pay
for having freedom of the press, of course," Dorothy said,
much less fazed than Relena. She calmly opened up her briefcase
and pulled out a can of mineral water. The ground car drove off
towards Relena's apartment, in a fashionable uptown section of
the colony.
Heero watched them from the
pilot's locker room, his face inches from the glass, almost
wishing she would not pull away and be gone from his life again
so quickly. But there were some things that were not meant to be.
He hung his head as the car drove away, then pulled himself
together. He had a life, a peaceful one, and one that allowed him
to keep constant watch over her during the most dangerous part of
her job as Foreign Minister. He knew he should be grateful just
for the small assurance that she was all right. As long as Relena
was okay, then the world was okay.
And yet, some small part of him
wanted more. Grimacing, Heero left the window and went to his
locker, pulling out clean clothes and a towel. He needed a
shower. A cold one.
* * *
Outside of a high glass window,
the lights of Colony Four twinkled brightly in the circular
layout. Quatre Raberba Winner sighed in appreciation of the
beauty, and sipped his tea from one of the bone white china cups
he favored. He was sitting behind his desk, ostensibly working,
but he'd drifted off into the Land of La while waiting for Trowa.
Since the death of his father a
little over two years ago, Quatre had been desperately trying to
fill his shoes. He had done fairly well at first, but he'd let
his sisters gradually handle more and more of the massive amount
of daily business that needed to be done while he himself focused
on the financial world. He had a surprising knack for making
money, just like his father, and he had ensured the financial
security of the ever growing family for a long time to come.
Quatre sipped his tea again.
Trowa had called him earlier, a very pleasant event in an
otherwise typical day. He hadn't seen his best friend in nearly
two months, although they kept up communication by emails and
snail mails faithfully. Quatre treasured Trowa's handwritten
letters dearly, as they were a more personal and friendlier form
of contact than email.
Apparently, the circus was in
town in L4, and Trowa was coming to visit. He had said that he
would be in sometime that evening. So, for now, Quatre would
wait, and try to control an ever growing sense of giddy
anticipation.
* * *
"Trowa, are you absolutely
sure about this?" Catherine Bloom said sadly to her little
brother as she watched him pack up. They had only arrived in L4
two days before, but the show had faired poorly and so they had
decided to move onto greener pastures ahead of schedule.
"Yes, Catherine, I'm sure.
This is what I want." Trowa's face showed no emotion, as
usual. He appeared steady as always, seeming not to care that he
had stunned everyone by requesting a few months hiatus. Catherine
was pretty sure she knew why, although Trowa hadn't spoken of it.
She had a feeling that he himself didn't want to admit that he'd
fallen in love with Quatre.
"Well . . . since I can't
say anything that will change your mind, I wish you the best,
Trowa." She kissed his cheek, and offered him a smile.
"We will miss you. All of us."
"Tell the Ringmaster that
I'll be back before you know it. And I will be back,
Catherine." Trowa slung his bag over his shoulder, then took
off his clown's mask and handed it to her. "Take care of
this for me . . . and take care of yourself." He then walked
out of the tent. He paused and glanced back only once, and
Catherine gave him a faltering wave.
"I will, Trowa," she
vowed, and cradled his mask. "You just remember to do the
same." Her eyes narrowed. Damned if her little brother
didn't know how to take care of himself at all. Letting himself
pine away, saying that emails and letters were enough . . . She'd
accepted that her brother loved Quatre far more than anyone knew,
including himself, but she just wished that he wasn't so thick
skulled that he didn't even see it. She set his mask carefully on
her own bags, and went to find the Ringmaster to see if anything
else needed to be done.
* * *
Trowa entered Quatre's office
silently. The guards outside the Winner mansion knew him well, as
he had visited Quatre many times before. He approached Quatre,
who had his back turned to the door, watching the colony outside.
But although he was quiet, Quatre knew he was there anyway and
smiled softly to himself as Trowa rested one hand on his
shoulder.
"Welcome back," Quatre
said simply. "I missed you." Trowa said nothing, but
half sat on Quatre's desk behind him, and squeezed his best
friend's shoulder in response. They basked in the comfort of
being together for a long moment before Trowa felt the need to
break the silence.
"How is the colony?"
he asked, not knowing what else to say.
Quatre stood up restlessly,
slipping out from Trowa's hand. He stuck his hands in his pocket
and began to pace between the desk and the window, looking
outside at the lights again. "It's peaceful, or so it
appears. There is a lot of commotion about the radio signals. The
tabloids are all saying we're going to be invaded by
extraterrestrials, although it's probably just one of our own
abandoned satellites."
"Sounds like an exciting
time," Trowa said, faintly amused, as he watched the blonde
Arabian pace.
"This may be what we needed
to finally unite the world in peace, Trowa," Quatre said,
and stopped pacing. "Or it could tear us all apart all over
again."
Trowa raised one eyebrow but
said nothing for a moment. The two merely stared at each other,
pale aqua eyes on forest, and Trowa felt his hear beat faster for
some unexplained reason. He'd known how he felt about Quatre, but
did not know if the other boy felt the same way. To hide his
uncertainty, Trowa stood up from his perch on the desk and
imitated Quatre by sticking his hands in his jeans pockets.
"You said there was someone
here you wanted me to meet when I called you earlier. Have they
arrived yet?" Trowa asked.
Quatre started. "Oh! I
almost forgot. He's already here." Quatre ran over to the
door that led to his personal quarters, opened it, and stuck his
head inside the door frame. "Dozé!" he called loudly.
In a few seconds, a tawny haired
boy appeared carrying a model of the Gundam Sandrock. He looked
no older than perhaps seven or eight. The boy froze when he saw
Trowa, and looked at him with wide, intelligent green eyes.
"Trowa, this is my oldest
nephew, Dozé Winner." Quatre beamed proudly at his best
friend, then stood on tiptoe to whisper in Trowa's ear, while
Dozé simply stood there, clutching the model. "My father
would have wanted me to either produce or declare an heir by now.
Since it doesn't look like I'll be having children of my own
anytime soon, I decided to adopt and raise Dozé in that
capacity. His mother . . . we lost my sister Arista last year,
and my other sisters agreed that Dozé would be best with
me." Quatre leaned down and patted his nephew's head. The
boy looked back up at Trowa.
"Your name is Dozé?"
Trowa said to the boy conversationally, and kneeled down in front
of him so that they were eye level.
"Yesth," the boy
lisped out. He was missing both of his front teeth. Seven, then,
Trowa decided. "It meansth twelve in Portuguesthe. I have
eleven older cousinsth." Dozé held out his prized model of
Sandrock for Trowa to see. "Have you ever seen one of
thesthe? It'sth a Gundam. I built it myself." Dozé's
declaration contained no trace of pride, and his face was calm.
He was simply stating a face, a solid one, which rebounded across
Trowa's mind, and caused him to form an instant liking to
Quatre's nephew.
"Yes, I've seen one,"
Trowa said, and carefully took the model in his hands. The
replica of Sandrock was nearly perfect -- fully poseable, highly
detailed, with even the self-destruct mechanism in the right
place. "Twelve..." he mused aloud. "Three times
four..."
"Yeah, I noticed that
too," Quatre said, and laughed nervously, blushing. He then
grinned and patted Dozé's head again. Dozé scowled at Quatre.
"He's got your eyes, Trowa," Quatre whispered to Trowa.
Trowa allowed himself a tiny
smile and handed the model of the Gundam back to Dozé.
"Can I call you Uncle
Trowa?" the boy asked suddenly. "I've got twenty seven
auntsth and only one uncle. I don't like thingth to be
unbalanced. One more uncle will even thingths out a lot, if only
in nameth."
Trowa kept his face carefully
blanked, but glanced at Quatre with wondering eyes. "Sure.
Just call me Uncle Trowa."
Dozé's gap tooth smiled
brightened his face like the sun emerging from storm clouds, and
the smile was genuine and unforced, lighting up his clear green
eyes, and causing familiar crinkles around them. He reminded
Trowa very much of Quatre in that moment.
* * *
The wind is strong on the red
planet of Mars. The landscape, carved by the thin atmosphere and
long dried up seas, looms in reddish gloom over everything. The
sky is red. The ground is red. Yet, against the harsh redness,
there is a faint spot of blue white at the moment. It is the
headquarters of the Martian Terraforming Project, headed by the
dead man once known as Milliardo Peacecraft.
He was in his office, playing
chess with his wife. Lucrezia Noin (she had wanted to keep her
last name, and since Zechs in all honestly couldn't offer her
either of his own, he hadn't minded) was the only person he'd
ever met who could best him in a game of chess. Outside, the
winds of Mars swirled angrily, but in their corner of the small
Project dome, the two newlyweds were nearly still.
"Your move," she said
softly, touching his foot with her own.
Zechs looked down at the chess
pieces, but his mind was not on the knights and pawns. Noin was
going to win this game again.
"Noin," he said
suddenly, "what do you think of the signals that the
Ministry of Science detected?"
Noin blinked. Her husband had
been pensive ever since he'd read the report of the signals that
the Ministry of Science, the group who funded their little
terraformation project, had detected last month. It wasn't that
he really believed there were extraterrestrials. He had dismissed
the idea rapidly, much to Noin's secret disappointment.
"I think that when they had
the press conference a few days ago they went overboard,"
she said, staring at the board.
"I think you're
right," Zechs said, and picked up a bishop. He hesitated,
then set it in two diagonal squares away.
"Why do you ask?" Noin
said, lacing her fingers together and resting her hand on her
chin. Her foot was still touching Zech's ankle, underneath the
table. She looked at the board. Hmmm, that last move had opened
up several intriguing ways to catch a rook...
"There's a meeting today,
on Colony One. I received the report this morning. Lady Une
called Relena and several others. Apparently, they want to
investigate the signal further, but they lack the support of the
people. I'm afraid Une is going to try to get Relena
involved."
Noin decided to spare his rook
for the moment, and instead took a pawn with her knight.
"Check," she said. Zechs winced. "I don't see why
Une needs Relena. It's not even her department."
"Relena has the support of
the people. Especially since the Barton War. How else would an
eighteen year old be nominated for President?" Zechs was
very proud of his sister, although he thought she pushed herself
too hard. "Une wants to form an expedition to the source of
the signal."
"She what?" Noin said,
sitting upright, all thoughts of chess fleeing from her mind.
"Zechs, you mean, as in a ship? A flight to the
source?" She had developed a gleam in her eye. Zechs had
been afraid of this. Noin loved outer space more than anything.
"Yes, a manned space
flight. Noin, you're not going."
"And why not?" she
cried, indignantly. "I've the experience. I've the
initiative. I want to go."
"Noin, so far all we've
been told is that there is a radio signal broadcasting from the
asteroid belt. It could be an asteroid. I don't think
there will actually be an investigation." He raised an
eyebrow. "I don't even know why Lady Une told us."
Zechs rescued his king from its predicament and captured one of
her pawns.
"Zechs," she said,
catching his hand before he could retrieve it, and staring at him
with her indigo eyes. She was serious. Zechs studied their linked
hands, gently nudging her thumb with his own. "If there is
an investigation, I would like to go." She squeezed his
hand. "But I'll come back. I promised I would never leave
your side, and if you don't want me to, then I won't."
"Lucy, if it means this
much to you, then you don't need my permission." He called
her by his nickname for her, the one he knew she adored and hated
at the same time. If anyone else besides him dared to call her
that, they would find themselves unconscious, or worse.
"Zechs . . . thank
you." She touched his foot with her own again. Then she
looked down at the board once more, and slid her queen to a
square across the board from his king. "Checkmate." She
smiled slightly. Zechs sighed and nodded to his wife, who had
just beaten him for the fourteenth time in a row, a new record.
* * *
But two days later, Noin
suddenly changed her mind. She wouldn't tell Zechs why, but he
caught her humming as she worked on more than one occasion, a
sure sign that she was preoccupied with something far more
important than her love for space. Zechs wondered what had
happened, but he didn't asking, knowing that Noin would tell him
if she wanted him to know.
* * *
Duo peered inside the conference
room. It was empty. Good.
The boy, now a man, formerly
known as the God of Death, plopped down into one of the
comfortable office chairs in the conference room on Colony One,
and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He needed a few moments
to think. Of course, since he was Duo, thinking involved also
saying things aloud.
"Man, I can't believe I got
called into this. Heero too, probably. What is Lady Une
thinking?" Duo was wearing his usual black leather outfit,
and he tugged idly on the collar of the jacket. "This is
crazy. And Hilde couldn't even come along to comfort me."
Duo grinned at the though of his tiny room mate. She was stuck on
Colony Two dealing with business school exams, though, else he
would have insisted she come along to keep him company. Since
she'd started business school last year, their scrap yard had
become nearly twice as profitable, allowing them to live
comfortably in a good neighborhood on Colony Two. Even though she
wasn't that great of a mobile suit pilot, the sunny little Hilde
was a hard-core businesswoman, and Duo loved her for that, among
dozens of other reasons.
A noise at the door startled him
from his reverie. Quatre Raberba Winner peered inside, mouse
like, and visibly brightened when he saw Duo.
"Hey, Quatre, old
buddy!" Duo nearly shouted in surprise, and stood up to
great his friend. He had no sooner done so when the rest of the
conference party came into the room. Duo blinked. "Wow,
Relena, Dorothy too . . . Lady Une, you're planning a regular old
reunion here, aren'tcha?" As he said that, Wu-fei sidled
into the room, looking around angrily, followed by Sally Po, who
had her usual look of amused tolerance on her face. Everyone
waited until Relena sat down to seat themselves.
"You didn't need to do
that," Relena said, half embarrassed. "I'm not the
President yet."
"But you're a
nominee," Quatre objected enthusiastically. "It's just
a matter of you accepting the position, isn't it?"
"Then actually winning the
election," Relena said with a sigh. "I don't know if
I'm up to that."
"Where's Heero?" Duo
said, glancing around curiously. Relena stiffened.
Lady Une also glanced sharply at
him. "How do you know he was even invited here, Duo?"
Duo smirked and stuck one booted
foot on the conference table, earning him reproving looks from
both Quatre and Wu-fei. "I just know. Heero and me are like
this, you know," he said, crossing two fingers. "I have
a feeling that if this meeting is what I think it is, then
you're gonna need a few good pilots." Duo closed his eyes
smugly. "And everyone knows that Heero and I are the
best." He opened one eye slightly and peered at Relena, who
was very pale.
A scientist came into the
conference room before Duo could continue teasing Relena. He
handed a clipboard to Lady Une, then seated himself at the head
of the table. He was a young, thin man, with flame red head and a
waxed handlebar mustache.
"Allow me to introduce Dr.
Seamus O' Malley," Lady Une said. "His team headed up
the project that discovered the alien signals. The project, known
hundreds of years ago as the Search for Extraterrestrial
Intelligence, periodically sweeps the sky looking for abnormal
radio signals. But I'll let him explain in his own words what
they found last month."
Dr. O' Malley nodded to her, and
glanced around the conference table. He tapped a button, and a
monitor rose from the table in a smooth motion, accompanied by a
white screen dropping down from the ceiling across the room. He
type a few commands, and the lights in the room dimmed. The
Ministry of Science loved gizmos, and the conference room showed
it.
"As you are all
aware," Dr. O' Malley began, "humans have long sought
contact with beings outside of our own solar system. We have
always believed them to exist, despite the lack of evidence;
humanity on a broad scale has trouble thinking that we would be
the only people to exist in such a vast universe. Unfortunately,
all attempts to locate any other civilizations, both Before and
After Colonization, failed. And this is why we were shocked when
a routine scan of our solar system detected what at first
appeared to be a new comet around the Oort cloud last month. We
immediately began to track it faithfully, and to record its
signals. As soon as it was in range, we took a picture. This is
what we saw." He keyed up an image of a bright dot within a
sea of stars.
"This image was taken with
the Hubble VI telescope just one over one month ago. While it at
first appeared to be a natural object, it was traveling in a
linear rather than an elliptical orbit, and it was zipping along
at an extremely rapid pace, roughly two percent of the speed of
light. That may not sound fast, but compared to our own speed
capabilities, it's impossible to imagine. The trajectory was
unnatural . . . and the object was slowing down. Spectroanalysis
confirmed that the object was made of a titanium alloy."
Duo couldn't help but think of
the Tallgeese, which had also been made of titanium. "That's
some tough stuff, and I don't think that's the kind of thing
comets are made out of," he commented.
"Precisely. Either this
object was manufactured by mankind, or it's from outside the
solar system."
"But what makes you suspect
that it's the latter as opposed to the former?" Sally Po
chimed in, her eyes fastened with rapt attention on the image on
the view screen. Wu-Fei narrowed his eyes at his partner, then
glared back at the image.
"Besides the fact that
there is no object of this size or material being
"lost," that image there is over a month old. When we
released the results of our radio signal studies two days ago, it
was because we had found this." Dr. O' Malley grimly called
up a new image. There was a collective gasp from around the room.
"We hate to deceive the populace, but we had to break the
news before it leaked. The object is now about 5 AU from the
Earth, or about the same Jupiter's distance from the sun, tangled
up in our asteroid belt." Amid the dim blobs of asteroids, a
distinctly made object blazed brightly. The image was in
black and while, but nonetheless, the object was clearly barrel
shaped with three unilateral fins.
"And now, the real reason
we called you all here. Lady Une is the only one outside of our
team who has heard this sound file. We cannot translate it as of
yet . . . but even so, you can tell that this is not a natural
signal." He tapped a few more keys, and a strange noise
filled the room. It was beautiful, in the same way that whales
singing are beautiful, only it was in harmony. It sounded like a
ship, released from its moors, floating out over the ocean,
entrancing, haunting. Duo suddenly wished Hilde were there again.
She'd like the music, if that's what it was.
"We want to send an
expedition team to investigate the signal. We called you all in
today because we felt that, in some way, you all should be
involved. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, of course," he
said, nodding to Relena, "the Preventers, and the Gundam
pilots who helped us so much during the wars -- all of you
deserve to take part in this, in whatever way you can. Duo
Maxwell, Heero Yuy has already agreed to pilot a shuttle out to
the object , although he could not make it today because of a
previous obligation. We unfortunately no longer have formal
astronauts, or else we would never ask you."
"I'm in," Duo said,
grinning triumphantly at Lady Une. He'd called that one.
"Quatre Winner, your family
has always been one of the greatest supporters of colony and
space science. We humbly ask for your support in this
endeavor."
"Of course the Winners will
help. This is exciting!" Quatre had secretly watched the
movie Contact about a dozen times when he was little. While a
scrambled radio signal wasn't exactly the same as a replay of
Hitler addressing the Third Reich, he wanted to play a part in
the real thing in whatever way he could. Trowa would probably
want to, as well.
"And Lady Une, your
Preventers have already agreed to go along in case of trouble.
Miss Relena?"
Relena, who had been staring
into space, toying with various theories of what sort of
'previous obligation' Heero could have had, brought herself to
her senses. "Yes?"
"We need to send a
diplomat. It's doubtful that we'll actually make any sort of
contact will be made . . . but in the event that -- in the
unlikely event that we do, we felt that you'd be the most
appropriate person to deal with things."
Everyone turned to stare at
Relena. She closed her eyes, and again thought briefly of Heero.
He had already agreed to go. Although he never admitted it,
Relena knew that he had a secret passion for the unknown, a love
for answering the unanswerable questions in life. That was why he
was such a good pilot, and a hacker in a pinch. Heero was going
along. Then so should she.
She opened her eyes with a snap.
"I'll do it," she said
firmly.
* * *
Catherine Bloom picked her way
down the dark street of Colony SC18726 in L4, wishing she wasn't
alone, that someone was with her, anyone, just so she wouldn't be
afraid. The colony night cycles were entirely artificial, but
that didn't make them any less scary. Trowa was probably with
Quatre now, which meant she'd have to just be brave until he came
back. She loved Trowa, her "heart" brother, as he
called it, and knew that he needed this time, but that didn't
mean she had to like being by herself.
She breathed a sigh of relief as
she left the darkest part of the street and entered a pool of
light. The circus was leaving tomorrow already, and she'd gone to
make some last minute traveling purchases and stayed too long.
Even now the lights were switching off as the stores closed down
for the evening. In less than an hour it would be completely
dark, and the light of the stars would shine through the walls of
the Side.
The noise of a fight caught her
attention, and she glanced over at the other side of the street.
About twenty or so people were assembled in front of the
television bank in the electronics store, yelling vulgar things
at the screen. Her curiosity piqued, she clutched her purse
tightly and joined them.
"What's going on?" she
asked the calmest person near her. The man shook his head, and
pointed to the monitor.
"The government is going
to waste our money on a trip to the asteroid belt. They think it
might be extraterrestrials."
"We don't want no stinkin'
aliens on our world!" someone shouted at the TV screens.
"But how do we know
that?" Catherine said, fascinated. On the screen, a
redheaded scientist answered questions for a rowdy audience.
Catherine blinked. Was that Trowa's Quatre up there with him? No,
it couldn't be...
"We don't know, which is
why they're sending people to find out. Askin' for trouble, in my
opinion. But they got the go ahead from some higher ups,
including Queen Relena, so they're gonna go ahead with it."
The man sighed, and lit a cigarette.
"If Relena has given her
approval, it has to be okay," Catherine said, uncertainly. A
few people around her gave her disapproving stares and continued
to yell at the vidscreens. She ignored them and watched, reading
the subtitles so that she could understand for herself exactly
what was happening.
* * *
"This is a good
crowd," a man in a black suit whispered to his comrade, a
woman, also in a black suit.
The woman nodded. "There is
probably a dozen volunteers alone. Maybe even the figurehead
we're looking for."
"That one there," the
man said. "Leggy, beautiful, and young. Just the kind we
need to attract members."
The woman glared at him beneath
her dark glasses. "We're being paid to start a war, not
start a fan club. The one we choose for the leader has to do more
than just look good. He or she has to be smart, and devoted to
the cause."
The man smiled lecherously at
the girl he'd spotted. "We can make her devoted to the
cause. That itself wouldn't be a problem."
The woman rolled her eyes at her
partner. He did have a point, though. The leader they were
looking for had to be attractive -- no one followed the causes of
ugly people, at least not unless they actually believed in the
cause. And what the Humperdinck Project (the woman despised the
name but it had been the best they could come up with) needed was
sheer numbers to work. Hence an attractive leader. The actual
disposition of the leader didn't matter. They could program
charm. They could manipulate feelings. They could make a
personality.
"She may be the one,"
the woman admitted. "But she'd have to volunteer of her own
free will, at least at first. Hypnosis doesn't work miracles, you
know."
The man nodded. "Time for
the show," he said, and stepped out of the shadows toward
the crowd.
* * *
"Good citizens of the
colony," a man yelled loudly from the side of the ever
growing crowd. Almost thirty heads turned to look at him in
unison, including Catherine's. She knew she needed to be heading
back to the circus, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the
monitor. She hated being in outer space; the circus belonged on
Earth. What the scientists were asking of the people was just
wrong. The trip would be a waste of money -- hadn't they all
learned that, long before they'd even built the colonies?
"The government of the Earth Sphere has asked you to accept
the invasion of our world by extraterrestrials! I ask, when we
achieved peace just two years ago, is this what we expected from
our rulers?"
The crowd began to murmuring in
assent.
"Humanity has finally
reached peace. We cannot just sit back and let non humans come in
and take over our world. Yet this is what the government is
asking you all to do -- no, even worse, the government is
extending an invitation to the non humans to come in! And who
will be attacked first? The colonies."
The man waited for that last bit
to sink in. Catherine had a feeling that he was exaggerating --
all she'd seen so far was a signal from outer space, something
that probably was just debris. But around her, the crowd pressed
forward, eagerly awaiting his next words.
They want to fight, she
realized. They want something to be angry at. It wouldn't have
mattered what it was . . . peace was a vacuum that needed to be
filled with violence.
"You, young lady," the
man said suddenly, pointing his finger at her. The crowd stared
followed him, all looking at her. Catherine wasn't normally
self-conscious -- after all, she was a circus performer -- but
the eyes that looked at her were filled with adrenaline and
malice. "What are you going to do to stop this
invasion?"
"Me?" she said in
complete surprise. "But we don't even know that there are
really aliens yet!"
"You think they'd let us
know about the radio signals if they hadn't already found
out?" To the crowd at large, he opened his arms wide.
"The New Earth Sphere is just like the Alliance and Oz were.
They keep things secret from the colonies, so that they can take
advantage of us. But we must not stand for it." He pumped
his fist into the air. "For the sanctity of the Earth!"
The crowd around her erupted into cheers. Catherine desperately
wanted to get away, but the crowd was pulling her along now -- it
had become a mob -- toward a destination unknown. And despite
herself, Catherine felt that the enthusiasm was catching.
* * *
[Ending Song: Watermark, by The Taliesin Orchestra]
Episode Two: The
Novi, an apparently peaceful race chased out of their home world
by the evil Setche, appeal to Relena Darlian for supplies, in
exchange for defensive technology. Trowa and Dozé Winner search
for Catherine Bloom, and discover a new threat on Earth.
Want the lyrics for Airmail from the Moon? They are at the Anime
Lyrics Library, courtesy
of kaijyuu M of the Two Mix Electronic Library. The lyrics used in the beginning of
each episode are an English arrangement by Cat Who, and are not
the official lyrics, nor are they an entirely accurate
translation.
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is not
mine. It belongs to TV Tokyo, Sunrise/Bandai, and Sotsu Agency.
All characters are used without permission, but please bear in
mind, I am not making any money off of this. Airmail from the
Moon ©1999 Two Mix. Watermark, Taliesin Arrangement is ©1995
The Taliesin Orchestra and Enya. Both songs are used without
permission.
Watermark
By: Catwho