Warmly embraced by the
planet far below
My time is passing so quickly it frightens me to know
Even our destined passion will have to fade someday
I want to shine on forever, this love will find a way
-- "Airmail from the Moon"
Colony Four. Trowa stared up at
the podium where the girl named Purity was addressing the crowds
at a public meeting inside the Side Coliseum. Dozé Winner was
safe with the Ringmaster on another Colony Side, enjoying a few
days at the circus in the care of the only family Trowa knew.
Purity was dressed in a black
leather cat suit and a black leather trench coat. Her hair was
slicked back, and she wore a pair of sunglasses. But Trowa knew.
He knew the slender body, the bearing of her shoulders, the
gentle angles of her face. She still wore her star earrings, a
startling contrast to her otherwise conservative outfit.
"Even now, as we speak, our own leaders are bringing an
alien back to us. The invasion is beginning, I tell you. We must
fight back now. before it is too late." She spoke in a
clear, haughty, ringing voice, so unlike the gentle girl he
called his sister.
She sounds as if she wants to
start a war, Trowa thought grimly. But Catherine hates war more
than anything. Why would she be involved in something like this,
let alone be in charge of it?
"Are we just going to stand
here?" she asked the crowd.
"No!" everyone shouted
gleefully.
"Then get out there! We may
not have weapons on this world to defend ourselves anymore, but
that doesn't mean we're just going to let ourselves be taken
over! Go!" She pointed towards the doors. "Let your
voices be heard! Keep the Earth PURE!"
Trowa just shook his head as the
crowd nearly tripped over themselves in their enthusiasm to
convert the entire colony to their cause. Catherine-Purity was
very good. Very good indeed. He stared impassively at her as she
left, then made his decision.
* * *
Willow was salivating.
She was a botanist by training,
and an orchid collector by hobby. The combination worked out very
well, because she could tell a real orchid from one that had been
genetically modified, or worse, simply dyed. She'd decided to
become a botanist after someone handed her a dyed carnation when
she was little, and she'd tried to dye her hair by drinking red
kool aid. It took the gentle explanation of a fourth grade
teacher before she was convinced that humans were not the same as
plants and couldn't absorb dyes the same.
The orchids now in front of her
were the real thing, all right.
"I've decided to sweeten
the pot," her contact said, in the note enclosed in the
bio-controlled box. "You've done such good work so far I
though you deserved a treat."
She cradled one perfect example
of the Minty Cream Fantasia orchid. So rare. So incredible. The
perfect cream petals had exactly three stripes of pale
blue-green, and darker green freckles, with lime stamens and a
blue-green heart. The colors contrasted beautifully against her
toffee colored skin. It was as genuine as Mother Nature could
make it. She'd have sold her soul to posses one before. Well, in
some ways, she had sold her soul, when she thought about it.
She hadn't meant to get involved
in starting a war, but her old friend and fellow orchid hunter,
Wesley Twentyman, had lured her in with the promise of more money
than she could ever need for rare orchids. Better yet, their
"boss," a mysterious person who had yet to contact them
directly, was also an orchid enthusiast, and had offered them
rare flowers from his personal collection for a job well done.
If the Minty Cream Fantasia was
an example of what he had to offer...
No regrets. Willow had vowed to
have no regrets. She placed the little orchid down on the table
again, and went to fetch Wesley, who would still be at the public
meeting to introduce the girl Purity. The orchid would go into
her collection, after she'd replanted it. She and Wesley were
both so paranoid they kept their most prized orchids with them at
all times.
She was very careful to
lock their office door.
And she ran back and double
checked, just to make sure.
* * *
"Wonderful job,"
Wesley said, escorting Purity offstage, shooing away a few
reporters. "Our message is being heard loud and clear across
the Colony. Soon, we'll be able to declare our
independence."
Purity paused, her eyes clouding
for a second behind her glasses. "Our . . .
independence?"
"Why, of course. We have
just cause. If the Earth Sphere United Nation allows the aliens
in, then we should form our own nation, free from them. The rest
of the world will see our cause and follow."
Purity was wavering. Wesley
frowned. Her indoctrination had not been complete, apparently, if
she was fighting it this much.
Wesley was a specialist in
"indoctrination." When he was in college with Willow,
all those years before, he'd majored in psychology and learned a
great deal more about the human mind than someone with no
scruples like him ought to know. He'd cleaned up for a while as a
televangelist (funding his rather expensive hobby) before getting
bored and moving onto real cult formation. And even that had
gotten boring.
Wesley Twentyman was ambitious.
One cult of a hundred people
wasn't enough. A thousand people wasn't enough. Wesley wanted to
be able to control the whole world. When their mysterious
"Boss" had contacted him with the lucrative offer of
orchids and money to start a war, Wesley felt that his ship had
finally come in. He was not about to miss it because his
figurehead wasn't taking his personality modifications.
"Of course, if our message
is heard, then the Earth Sphere will still be unified,"
Wesley hastened, slipping an arm around the confused girl's
shoulders. "We must continue our quest to keep the Earth
pure. If the Earth Sphere's leaders are competent, they will see
the error of their ways and destroy the aliens."
Apparently, Catherine's moment
of weakness had passed, as she straightened and slipped out from
Wesley's arm. "Don't touch me like that," she snapped,
and stalked off to the taxi that was waiting for her outside the
back door.
Despite himself, Wesley smiled.
The girl's base personality was nice, but she had real spunk. He
hadn't had to change that one bit.
* * *
"No one sees Purity,"
the bouncer said to Trowa.
"Not even her
brother?" Trowa replied, matching the bodyguard Death Glare
for Death Glare.
"She has no brothers."
"She'd recognize me if she
saw me."
"Go away, little man."
Trowa's blank face nearly
cracked. No one had ever called him little before. True,
the bouncer outside of Purity's high rise condominium was
probably three times his weight, and maybe an inch or two taller,
but that didn't make Trowa little by comparison. Trowa
felt vaguely offended, but some human part inside of his soul
wanted to burst out laughing.
"Fine then," he said
to the bouncer, and turned away. He walked down the Side street
deep in thought. Now that he'd actually found Catherine, he could
try another approach later. Appearing as an ally had worked
before, and it would probably work again. In the meantime, he had
to return Dozé to Colony One before Quatre came back. And he
would see his Quatre again.
My Quatre? When did I start
thinking of him as mine?
Trowa ignored the voice in his
head. His feelings for the Arabian boy were in such a jumble that
they only made sense when he was actually with Quatre.
Then, all felt right with the world. Then, Trowa was at peace.
I wonder what they found out
there, he thought , and gazed up and out to the side wall, to the
impassive stars that hung outside.
* * *
Quatre, Relena, Dr. O' Malley,
the pilots, and the Preventers escorted the wide-eyed Forwa off
the shuttle. Forwa had considered herself jaded, having been to a
dozen different world's in her people's travels, but the sheer
number of humans that were there to greet them astounded her.
Everywhere, people were crowding in on the sanitary bubble dome
that had been erected around the shuttle as soon as it landed.
The press had been kept away, since they would all be quarantined
for a few days, but even so, they were surrounded by support
personnel galore. The group protected her as they stepped through
a disinfectant gate, and then continued on toward the medical
quarters of the Side's shuttle port, for further testing of the
passengers.
"I'm sorry if we're coming
off as rather paranoid," Relena said, her spacesuit helmet
tucked under her arm as they walked through the hallways of the
heart of the Side. Forwa had declined the spare spacesuit they
had in the shuttle, explaining that she was used to space travel
and nothing really bothered her. Relena had decided not to press
the point, since Forwa's overly long fingers wouldn't fit in a
human spacesuit glove anyway.
"Trowa!" Quatre
suddenly burst out, and smiled and waved enthusiastically to the
tall boy waiting for them in the medical area, who waved back.
Dozé waved back as well, although timidly and with eyes even
wider than Forwa's had been.
"Trowa?" Forwa said,
tilting her head to one side in a startlingly human gesture.
"Well, your father did say
that we shared some similar speech patterns," Relena said
thoughtfully, as a nurse helped her out of her spacesuit.
"Trowa's not that common of a name among us, though."
"Forwa isn't either. Common
among us, I mean. It's a word from the Mransgst language that
means "delightful." My father has a fascination with
languages." Forwa smiled slightly. "He speaks about two
hundred, all told, and most of those without the aid of hypnosis,
unlike me. If it weren't for hypnosis language sessions, I
wouldn't be speaking with you as we are now."
Trowa had a very shocked
expression on his face as Quatre hugged him as enthusiastically
as he had hugged his nephew. Relena resisted the childish urge to
giggle. Everyone knew that the two former pilots loved each other
except themselves.
All the humans who had been
onboard were subjected to a complete mini-physical by a team of
medical assistants and nurses. They took their temperature, blood
pressure, blood samples, and even a breathalyzer sample. Dr. O'
Malley started to herd some medical doctors over to see Forwa,
but Relena blocked them as soon as she saw what they were doing,
much to the chagrin of the doctor who had been in the middle of
taking her blood pressure.
"No," she said firmly,
shielding the girl behind her, in a stance that reminded Heero of
the way she'd shielded him from Duo when they were on the naval
ship during the war. The blood pressure cuff hung off her arm,
and the poor doctor was frantically timing a measurement from a
crouched position next to her.
Why did Relena feel like she
needed to protect everyone? Heero wondered, then he answered his
own question. Same reason I feel the need to protect her, I
suppose. He sighed, earning him a reproachful look from the
person taking his temperature.
"She's not a human,
therefore, there is no need to run human medical tests on her!
Sally, please," Relena mouthed silently, turning a pleading
look to the Preventer.
"Miss Relena's right,"
Sally said on cue, breaking away from the nurse testing her,
stepping in and shooing the gaggle of doctors away from the
confused alien. "We don't need to test her for anything. Run
any tests you like on us, but leave her alone."
"But-" Dr. O 'Malley
tried to interject. His team of scientists had been anticipating
the wealth of xenobiotic information they could obtain on the
Novie from the girl, and had flocked en masse to greet her. Now
the Vice Foreign Minister was overstepping her bounds.
"No 'buts.' Also, Forwa
will be staying with my on Colony One. Cancel any plans you had
to keep her here." Relena's Death Glare even impressed
Heero. He hadn't known she was capable of a Death Glare, let
alone one to rival his own. But Dr. O' Malley failed to wilt
under the icy stare; instead, his eyes grew colder to match it.
"Very well. But we must
keep you all under observation."
"Of course. For the next
week, as planned. But not here in the medical facilities. We have
too much to do."
"We can't just let you
leave. We--"
"Dr. O' Malley, when you
invited me along on this mission, you entrusted me with all the
aspects of it that were diplomatic. In the name of diplomacy, we
are not going to stay here any longer than is necessary. I am
hereby taking control of Forwa and all that happens with the
Novie."
"What's going on?"
Forwa whispered to Sally, her face frowning in confusion.
"A battle of wills. Relena
is winning," Sally answered with a smile.
It was becoming evident to Dr.
O' Malley that Relena was winning as well, so he snapped his jaw
shut and frowned as Relena, finally freed from the doctors who
had been testing her, brushed past him. A cloud of Preventers
greeted the group, absorbed them, and escorted them to a briefing
room in another portion of the shuttle port, away from the angry
scientists.
"I can't believe he tried
to keep us there," Duo grumbled to Heero in a low voice as
they walked inside the room behind the group. "I mean, we're
quarantined to the Side as it is. And I just don't like that O'
Malley character."
"Neither do I," Heero
agreed. He and Duo took seats along the sides, while Relena
naturally went towards the head of the room. How much of her life
is spent in rooms such as this, nowadays? Heero wondered again.
It was amazing how little he knew of her now. He'd been watching
her hawkishly for two years, yet he knew next to nothing of her
daily routines, just her traveling habits.
He frowned as Relena began the
long, boring process of debriefing the Preventers over the last
twenty-four hours, leading up to Lady Une's decision to stay
behind as a diplomatic contact. The Preventers, upon hearing of
the loss of their leader, were naturally anxious, until Relena
assured them that it was only temporary. Sally, as the next in
command, would be in charge of things until she returned.
"So you see, in exchange
for supplies, the Novie are willing to share their defensive
information with us," Relena concluded. "They have sent
one of their representatives, Forwa, in exchange for Lady Une.
Forwa?"
The young alien girl stood shyly
as Relena introduced her. "My people cannot thank you
enough. Due to the generosity of planets such as yours, we can
continue our mission to spread the word of the danger, and to
seek a new home for ourselves. I only hope that your preparations
will not need to be used, for the wrath of the Setche is great,
and they know no mercy."
Heero was impressed. The girl
had only learned Japanese within the last few days, according to
herself, but she spoke it as fluently as if she were born and
raised in Tokyo. Even Relena's Japanese wasn't that good, and Duo
spoke with a terrible Osaka accent, reflecting his Colony Two
American origins. Heero glanced at Duo, next to him, and noticed
that the other pilot had nearly dozed off. A quick elbow brought
Duo back to consciousness, and he had the presence of mind to
look sheepish.
"I hope that our sharing of
information, beginning today, with promote a long and prosperous
alliance between us." Forwa suddenly glanced around
nervously, and sat down, apparently realizing that she was
finished but did not know how to properly indicate it. So, the
hypnosis language sessions are not entirely perfect, Heero
decided. She had most gestures down, but not all of them, as she
hadn't known to bow, or even nod.
"Thank you," Relena
said with a gracious smile, and a nod to all the Preventers.
"You are dismissed. Dorothy?"
Dorothy Catalonia appeared from
the depths of the large group of Preventers who were leaving the
room, wearing an attractive navy pantsuit, and carrying an
enormous bundle of papers.
"Miss Relena, you've done
it now. First you lost Lady Une, then you usurped Dr. O' Malley's
authority, there are hundreds of reporters outside the shuttle
port screaming that you're denying freedom of the press, your
popularity in the election polls is jumping all over the
place...."
"We'll deal with all that
tomorrow." Relena sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose
unconsciously. "Tonight, I'm too drained. Schedule a press
conference for eight in the morning. Forwa?" Relena queried,
then spotted the alien girl looking more than a little bewildered
as the room cleared out and no one escorted her anywhere. Forwa
looked up gratefully at Relena when she heard her name called.
"Forwa, you'll be staying
in my own apartment, if that's all right. I would put you in a
hotel, except I can't keep the paparazzi away from there as I can
in my apartment here."
"Whatever is
necessary," Forwa said, with another one of her sunny
smiles. The Novie had slightly more pointed teeth than humans,
giving the disturbing impression that Forwa was a happy vampire.
"Fine, then." Relena
smiled back "Unless you want to come to our press
conference, Dorothy here will be in charge of giving you a tour
of the Colony."
"Miss Relena?" Dorothy
said, in faint surprise. She narrowed her eyes and looked at
Forwa. Forwa narrowed her eyes and looked back. Sparks flew.
Whereas Relena and Forwa had been instant kindred souls, Dorothy
and Forwa were nigh on instant enemies. Something about each girl
rubbed the other one exactly the wrong way, and they could tell
on sight that they would not get along well.
Relena did not notice the
daggers the two were shooting at each other. Oblivious, she
chattered on as she led them out of the colony briefing room.
"Come on, Duo," Heero
said, waking up the sleeping pilot once again, but keeping his
eyes trained on the disappearing figure of Relena. "We've
got to get to my apartment."
"Your apartment?" Duo
said groggily.
"We can't leave Colony One
for a week, and it would hurt Relena's image around here if we
stayed in the shuttle port quarters like were have been. She's
made herself in charge, and we've got to follow suit. Unless you
want to sleep on the street," Heero said, unsmiling.
"Fine, fine, your apartment
then. Jeesh, and I was having such nice fantasies about returning
to Hilde . . . "
"Keep a lid on them for
another week. Come on."
They were the last ones to leave
the briefing room. Quatre had disappeared with Trowa and Dozé
before the meeting even began, and apparently only Heero had
noticed in the confusion that had ensued with Relena's sudden
coup for control.
* * *
What have I done?
Relena kept asking herself that
over and over again. She knew she had overstepped her authority,
and had probably made a lot of enemies in the ministry of science
at the same time, but she couldn't just let them take Forwa off
to -- Relena shuddered -- examine her.
They were in her apartment now,
Dorothy setting Forwa up in one of the guest bedrooms. She kept a
rather overlarge townhouse on Colony One, in the event that she
ever needed to host anything, so having Forwa stay with her at
least would not be a problem space-wise.
She wanted . . . she wanted to
talk to someone. No, she wanted to talk to Heero. Even if he only
"hn"ed at her and told her to go away, she wanted to
hear his voice and see his handsome, sad face. He kept an
apartment on Colony One (she'd looked up his name in the phone
book in a moment of weakness once.) She started to reach for the
vidphone, but changed her mind. Heero was such a recluse that he
probably wouldn't like an invasion of his privacy. She wasn't a
little kid anymore; she couldn't just hop in her plane and chase
him without thought or care. She had responsibilities, and
dumping her frustration and fear on Heero wouldn't be fair to
either of them.
But she did want to talk to
someone. She leaned across her desk, where she had been poring
over drafts of the official press release, and bit her lip before
flipping through the Rolodex. Hmmmm. Hilde . . . no, wait, Duo
had said she was in the middle of her business school finals and
was too stressed to even sleep. Interrupting her now wouldn't be
nice. Sally? With Lady Une with the Novie, she was probably
scrambling to get some semblance of organization on the
Preventers. Catherine was impossible to get a hold of since she
moved so much with the circus, and her cell phone was almost
always turned off. Dorothy would only make her panic more.
Her fingers paused above a set
of names and a number. Zechs. Of course. He and Noin were on
Mars, but it would be midday for them. Noin would love to hear
about the journey to the ship. Relena smiled to herself -- Noin
had told her exactly why she couldn't go along, despite her love
for space and adventure. She hadn't told Zechs yet, but Relena
knew her brother would be ecstatic once he heard.
She dialed up their control
office, through the Preventers as opposed to the Ministry of
Science as she usually would, and tried not to think about how
much the call was going to cost her. Mars was nearing its
perihelion to Earth, which meant that the transmit time would be
no more than ten seconds each way, but even so, contact to the
Red Planet was never inexpensive, especially via semi-live
vidphone.
Answer, she whispered to the
vidphone, which stubbornly stayed blank. Finally, someone picked
up, and in a few moments she saw the image of Zechs, her brother,
blossom across the screen.
"Relena?" he said in
surprise. He was still as dashing as ever, although in order to
wear his helmet (as yet, humans could not cope with the harsh
Martian atmosphere), he kept his hair pulled back in a neat
ponytail. The ponytail coupled with his ragged bangs reminded her
for a second of a blond version of Duo.
Come to think of it, she had
probably seen Duo more times than she had seen her own brother.
She'd taken him for lost after that final battle with Heero,
although Noin said she knew he was still alive somewhere. And
then he'd shown up out of nowhere -- then disappeared again with
Noin, only to show up as the head of the Ministry of Science's
Mars Terraforming project. She'd hardly had any time with him at
all. Some family, eh, she thought sadly.
"Greetings, brother,"
she said formally in English, the Sanq Kingdom's official
language. But she softened her stiff words with a smile.
"You have probably already heard, but we've got some company
here on Colony One."
"I heard, although I'm not
sure how much of it I believe. You've made some enemies in the
Ministry of Science, and right now you're not too popular with
anyone here on Mars."
Now that surprised Relena.
"But . . .why?" Relena winced. She had supported the
Mars Project wholeheartedly. Were people so fickle?
"We're the most susceptible
to an attack here on Mars." He raised her hand to stop her
protest. "I don't believe that their intentions are hostile
-- despite what all those low-grade B movies seem to say, I
believe that anyone with the capabilities of interstellar flight
has the nobility to state their intentions of invasion right off
the back and not sneak around. But the people want something to
fear . . . just as they always want a reason to fight. Prove them
wrong, Relena. If anyone can, it's you."
Relena sighed in relief. It was
precisely what she'd needed to hear. "So I did the right
thing?"
"I'm not entirely sure. I
think you chose the best option you could. In that situation,
there was no right or wrong."
"Is anyone on Mars giving
you or Noin a hard time?"
"Oh, no. We have their
implicit trust. You don't."
Naturally. Time to change the
subject. "How is Noin doing? Is she eating well?"
Zechs looked puzzled. . Relena
decided that Noin still hadn't told him. "Noin is fine.
She's out doing field work at the moment. She should be back in a
half hour or so, if you wanted to talk to her."
"No, that's fine." So
much for telling Noin about the Novie, but this call was going to
be as expensive enough as it was. "I'm glad to hear you're
doing well. Are you almost ready for Stage Two?"
"The first asteroid is
accelerating nicely, although it still won't have the speed it
needs for several months. Before then, we're going to bombard it
with several other magnetized asteroids. We'll have Stage Two
done within the year."
"That far away?" she
murmured, sadly. The Terraforming Project had been her pet since
she'd been elected to office.
"Mars can't be terraformed
in a day," Zechs said, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Don't worry. We'll begin to see the fruits of our labor
within our lifetime, and our grandchildren will see Mars
green."
Relena hid a smile. Zechs was a
bit closer to grandchildren already than he thought.
"I've got to go check on a
team that is setting up the new dome. I hate to run out on you,
but --"
"Please, Milliardo, you've
helped me more than you could know. I'll keep in touch," she
said, touching the view screen.
"Do that, Relena.
Bye." His face vanished, leaving Relena alone again with her
thoughts. And as usual, those thoughts strayed to Heero. She
still wanted to talk to him. There was a Heero shaped vacuum in
her mind, and talking to Zechs hadn't relieved it at all. She
absently turned on the radio, and listened to the song that was
playing on the oldies station for a few moments.
There's a hole in my heart
that can only be filled by you
And this hole in my heart can't be filled with the things I do
Hole-hearted, hole-hearted...
Ouch. That hit a little too
close to home.
She shut the radio off and went
to help Dorothy.
* * *
"You can sleep on the
couch. It's a futon." Heero tossed a few linens to Duo, who
was staring wide-eyed around Heero's one bedroom apartment on
Colony One.
"What... what is all this
stuff?" He peered closely at the bizarre assortment of
detritus that covered Heero's walls. "4-H Jamboree AC 197 --
Cooperative Extension Services, University of Colony One --
Heero? You're a 4-H leader? The things you never tell me, and I'm
your best friend!" Duo looked offended.
Heero shot him a Death Glare.
"It's the least I can do. I can give the kids of Colony One
a chance I never had. And you must never have read my letters,
because I mentioned it several times.
Duo looked even more offended.
"I read them! You just say things out of nowhere. 'They
don't pay me enough, the press is hounding Relena again, and I'll
be gone this weekend for a meeting' -- and you assume I know what
kind of meeting it is. Either your train of though has the most
twisted tracks in the whole solar system, or you enjoy making my
brains turn to spaghetti when you write."
Heero made his noncommittal
noise, and threw a pillow squarely at Duo, who caught it
automatically. "I think you got Hilde to read them and she
conveniently skipped over those parts because she knew you'd
laugh."
"I'm not laughing now, am
I?" Duo replied, looking at the rows of certificates,
child's art, and memories Heero had tacked up on the wall.
"I think it's a very kind gesture. I sure hope this kids are
having a nicer childhood than I did." Duo flopped onto
Heero's couch, and settled down. "What time are we getting
up, Heero?"
"Six. Relena's called a
press conference at eight, and we've got to be there." Heero
narrowed his eyes. "Don't sleep in like you did all the time
at school."
"Aww, gimme a break, Heero,
I wasn't late all the time . . ."
Heero snorted and leaned against
the doorjamb. "There's a phone right over there if you want
to call Hilde. It's paid for by my airline company so feel free
to jabber with her all you want."
Duo jumped up again, and nearly
sprinted to the phone. "Thanks! I need to find out how her
finals went." He quickly dialed the vid phone, and Heero
went to his bedroom, suddenly feeling very jealous of Duo and
Hilde for some reason.
* * *
Quatre and Trowa had snuck away
in the confusion, all right, grateful that Relena's little
performance had granted them a chance to do so. They left the
Ministry of Science section on Colony One unimpeded, and headed
towards the Winner house on a nearby Side.
The Winners, like many important
families on Earth before them, had a tendency to leave their
names on streets and buildings everywhere they went -- you could
rest assured that no matter where you went in Colony Four, for
example, there would be a Winner Street someplace, named after an
old Winner House. The houses were rarely occupied by Winners,
however. As the family had branched out, they had built and then
abandoned house after house on Side after Side. The Winner House
on Colony One was one of the few ones the Winners actually used
anymore. Quatre's father had used it as his business base on
Colony One, and Quatre had seen no reason for him to stop doing
so.
It was tall and grand and would
make any historical preservationists sell his or her soul. The
famous designer J.D. Founders had built it in the Early Colonial
period, and had been one of the first houses on Colony One to be
something other than utilitarian. Neo-classical in design, the
huge two story columns loomed from the highly cultivated garden
out front, framing the dramatic entrance. The stern facade was
broken only by a few whimsical pieces of white wicker furniture
on the porch. Quatre's mother had supposedly been fond of. Quatre
kept them there in her memory, a strange detached fragment of the
maternal love he'd never known reaching out from the nether
world. They comforted him.
And yet, it was small. The
echoing foyer and giant proportions of the front belied the
interior, which actually had only four bedrooms and a few
thousand square feet. In the early Colony Days, however, space
had been a premium, and the full acre lot it was on had been
considered a frivolous expense. The Winner fortune's roots were
deep, but they had finally broken the surface in the Colony One
Winner House.
Trowa was strangely silent as
Quatre tucked Dozé away for the evening. He answered in
monosyllables, although he helped Quatre out with Dozé's bath
and didn't complain as he ended up nearly as wet as the
"Good thing this is
permanent press," Trowa said as he wrung out his shirt over
the sink once Dozé was in bed. It was the most he'd said all
evening.
"Well, I do have an iron if
you need it," Quatre replied helpfully. "Since there's
no staff at this house, I've learned to do my own laundry."
Quatre smiled, and tried not to think about the play of light on
the muscles of Trowa's damp chest. Or the way they tapered into
Trowa's lean hips.
Trowa flapped the damp shirt,
his face as deadpan as always as he studied all the new wrinkles.
"I think I need a dryer more. I thought seven year olds had
more self control than that. Your nephew reminds me of one of the
circus seals. " His face flickered in pain for an instant,
and Quatre, who was finely tuned to Radio Trowa, caught it for
the moment it was there. Trowa started to leave the bathroom, but
Quatre's voice stopped him, and he froze halfway out the door,
his back turned to the blond Arabian.
"Trowa, whatever is wrong,
you can tell me," he said, his tenor tender but firm.
Trowa half turned to face him,
and this time there was unmistakable grief on his face. "I
don't want to burden you," he said, the shirt drooping at
his side.
"Burden? How could sharing
with me be a burden to me?" Quatre's empathy radiated
throughout the small bathroom. He stepped forward, and rested his
small hand on Trowa's bare arm. "Please, Trowa. Sometimes
the only way to understand the pain of the mind is to explain it
all to someone else. I'll always be a willing ear for you."
Trowa caught Quatre fast in a
bone crunching hug, surprising Quatre for a second. The damp
shirt burned against his back for a second, then settled into
coolness. Quatre smiled briefly to himself. So Trowa did
feel it as well. He sighed a tiny sigh of contentment, enveloped
in the strong warmth of Trowa's arms, offering all the comfort of
his soul.
* * *
"Catherine is
missing," Trowa said later, over coffee in the small sitting
room on the first floor. "Well, not missing. I know where
she is. But don't think she does." Behind them, the dryer
hummed
Quatre stirred his own coffee
and touched Trowa's foot with his own. "Care to explain
that?"
Trowa stared off in the
distance, remembering the stranger who'd inhabited Catherine's
body on the podium the day before. "It's as if she's someone
else. A evil twin. Like Lady Une before the death of Treize. It
was a different Cathy."
"She lost her memories,
maybe?"
"No, even if she didn't
remember who she was, she'd still be herself." Trowa thought
about that for a few seconds. "Losing your memories is a lot
different. When I had amnesia, I don't think my personality
changed."
"Nope, you were still the
strong, silent, handsome type," Quatre said with a grin.
Trowa raised an eyebrow at that remark.
"But it's as if Cathy has
completely changed. She seemed so cold and controlling. And
yet..." he recalled that one time she'd punched him for
thinking about suicide. "And yet, that part of her has
always been there, now that I think about it. It may be a
different aspect of her personality taking control. Very much
like Lady Une."
"But I heard that Lady
Une's two selves formed as a result of her loyalty to Treize.
What could pull Catherine into two?"
"Fear of war. She hates war
more than anything. That is why she didn't like you at first. You
wanted to take me back to the war."
"She didn't like me?"
Quatre looked hurt, but his voice held a teasing note. "I
thought everyone liked me."
"Except OZ, and Romefeller,
and most of the colonies. . ."
"But they didn't like me on
principle. I try to be a likable person, on a face to
face basis."
"You're a likable person,
Quatre. No one should ever doubt that." Trowa's mouth turned
up into the faintest smile. The smile quickly faded, and the
glitter in Trowa's eyes was replaced by a deeper shine.
"You're kind, compassionate, and loyal, and you see the best
in everyone. Even me."
"There's a lot of the best
in you, Trowa," Quatre protested. "You're thoughtful
and selfless, and talented to boot." Not to mention
downright sexy without a shirt, Quatre added to himself, and
nearly blushed with the thought.
Trowa sighed and leaned back in
his chair, and sipped his coffee, and changed the subject before
Quatre started enumerating other qualities he knew he didn't
possess. "I wish I knew another way to reach her other than
joining the movement. One more person in the Keep Earth Pure is
one more person who is supporting hatred and violence, even if
they don't believe in it. But I tried meeting her one on one, and
she's guarded as heavily as Relena. Joining the movement is the
only way I can get to her."
"You're very good at going
undercover, at least. Just promise me you'll take care of
yourself."
"I have to rescue her,
Quatre. She's . . . family. Even if we weren't related, she'd
still be my sister."
"I understand." Quatre
reached across the table, and took Trowa's hand. He squeezed it
gently, and met Trowa's eyes, which burned with gratefulness and
trust. "I know she'll recognize you once you meet her."
He made no move to let go of Trowa's hand, and decided to press
his luck. "But you can't leave until tomorrow."
"I can't?"
Quatre nodded, a mischievous
gleam in his eye. "You can't. It's past eight o' clock now.
All the shuttles have stopped for the day."
Trowa said nothing, but his eyes
glittered as Quatre continued amiably, and he twined his fingers
through Quatre's, gently.
"So you'll just have to
stay tonight. I'm stuck on the Colony for a week, so you can at
least keep me company for one night, right?" Quatre tilted
his head to one side, expectantly.
There was a moment of electric
silence.
"Yes," Trowa said
finally, and leaned forward across the table, and kissed Quatre
full on the mouth.
* * *
The lights were out on the
Winner House of Colony One. And it was quiet, and peaceful in the
yard. The architects of the Early Colonial period had worked with
good materials, so that all the buildings in those early Sides
were efficient and nearly soundproof.
Otherwise, the yard might have
been a bit noisier that evening from the activities in a certain
bedroom inside.
* * *
It was late at night in the
Preventer's Headquarters on Colony One. Sally had been struggling
to keep control of the chaos caused by Lady Une's absence, and
fortunately, the Preventers seemed to be coping better than
anyone else. They were all a well trained lot. She closed the
door to Lady Une's office with a sigh, and walked down the hall
to the office that she and Wu-Fei used when they were in space.
She'd hopefully be able to catch a few hours of sleep before the
press conference the next day.
The lights were on in the
office, which meant that Wu-Fei was still there. Sally crept
inside quietly, yet she did not see her partner anywhere. Where
was he? There was her desk, comfortably cluttered with memories,
so dissimilar to his starkly neat one right next to it. There was
a single piece of paper aligned squarely with the edges. Curious,
Sally sat down and read it, expecting it to be the early stages
of the plans for the security of the press conference the next
morning, which Wu-Fei had insisted on doing himself. Instead, it
was a brief outline of the events of the past few days -- the
Novie, their story, and the human's reactions. Some points had
been outlined. Others had neat lines drawn between them,
connecting them. It was a jumble of thoughts that her partner had
tried to organize on paper, and had apparently failed.
She studied it for a long time,
until Wu-Fei came in, carrying a cup of coffee.
"Woman, why are you sitting
in my chair?" He sounded faintly cross, as usual.
"Because it was empty. I
was wondering where you had gone. Planning on it being a late
night?" she asked, eyeing his cup of coffee.
"Yes. And if you knew how
to make a decent cup of coffee, I wouldn't have to leave the
office at all."
Sally smiled to herself. Their
Coffee War had gained fame throughout the Preventer's
Organization. She liked her coffee dark and rich. Wu-Fei liked
his light and thin. She added saccharine and cream. Wu-Fei liked
his plain. Unfortunately, they had only one coffee pot in their
office, and it belonged to Sally. She planned to get him his own
as a gift one of these days, but in the meantime, he had
commandeered the coffee pot in the break room.
She gracefully rose from his
chair and retreated to her own. Wu-Fei set his coffee on his
desk, sat down with a great deal of fanfare and indignant
silence, and then carefully added another thought to the sheet of
paper.
Sally just stared at him,
smiling, drinking in his presence. She loved Wu-Fei dearly,
despite his general sulkiness. Wu-Fei felt her stare.
"What, woman?"
"Aren't you going to tell
me what you're doing? Or am I going to have to ask you?"
Wu-Fei sighed and let his pen
bounce on his desk. Damned woman. Never minded her own business.
"Something about this
situation with the Setche and the Novie just doesn't add up. It's
all been too easy. They should be in a panic, fleeing for their
lives, yet everything has been so calm and diplomatic so far. I
don't like it."
Sally crossed her legs as
seductively as she could in her Preventer's uniform. "I
haven't seen anything suspicious. I think they're pacifists.
Notice they sent Forwa to share their defensive technology, not
their weapons. Never once did Zwit even mention weapons."
"Exactly. If they Setche
are as horrible as he says they are, then why doesn't he want us
to destroy them?"
"Hmm." Sally rested
her chin on her hands. She'd been pleased that Zwit had offered
only to augment their defenses, and Lady Une had been as well.
The last thing they needed was a brand new weapon on their hands,
with the Barton War only over less than six months ago. But now
that Wu-Fei mentioned it, something about a defense-only war did
sound a little strange.
Wu-Fei added another line to his
list, and muttered under his breath. "Unless... Zwit doesn't
want us to win against the Setche... that would mean he wants us
to lose..." Wu-Fei stared at his paper, several emotions
flickering across his face in rapid succession as if his mind
couldn't decide which level of anger to settle upon.
He underlined something several
times, and his mind decided that pure rage would work nicely.
"Of course!" He stood
up, and slammed his pencil onto the table.
"What? What is it?"
"The Novie are in league
with the Setche!"
Sally's eyes widened.
"Wu-Fei, that's a serious accusation."
But he was already shrugging on
his Preventer's jacket. He punched his desk in frustration.
"We have to stop that press conference." Sally started
to object again, but he grabbed her hand, leaving her no room to
argue. "Come on, woman!"
The two fled their office
sanctuary, and Wu-Fei's cup of coffee lay forgotten next to the
sheet of paper.
* * *
Trowa slipped out of Quatre's
bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, intent on joining the
League as soon as possible. He regretted leaving his lover so
soon -- he'd have liked to see Quatre wake up in the morning, the
last echoes of sleep blinking in his eyes, but he knew that
Quatre would understand why he had to go.
He kissed Quatre softly and left
the Winner House for the building that the League was using there
on Colony One. Catherine had come there yesterday. He had a
feeling she intended to make a move the next morning at the press
conference.
* * *
Now, Forwa thought, curled up on
the soft bed in Relena's guest room, this is what I call living.
Relena's townhouse was large and
elegant, but modest by most human standards. Not so to Forwa. The
Novie ship, the Silent Predator (her father hated the
name; it sounded so barbaric, but it cold not be helped), had not
been without its luxuries, but those luxuries did not include
feather mattresses. With eiderdowns of satin and pillows stuffed
to bursting with down feathers. Forwa felt as if she were
floating on a cloud.
She didn't quite understand what
a press conference was -- her hypnosis language told her that it
was a gathering of the press for a public statement, but she
wasn't sure why Miss Relena needed to call one. It seemed rather
silly.
Forwa sighed deeply, and tried
to will herself to sleep, but the excitement of the day kept
coursing through her veins. This was the first time her father
had ever trusted her with a diplomatic mission on her own.
Usually, he sent Cinch, who was such a bumbling silly that
everyone took to him instantly. Well, he was only a bumbling
silly around her, anyway. Forwa knew it was all an act to amuse
her. She appreciated it. There had been little enough in her life
so far that was amusing.
The Setche had destroyed their
home world of Noveno when she was only one. Her mother had died
in the attack, leaving her with only her father for company, and
he had had most of his hands full running the ship. In many ways,
Cinch, who was only six years her senior, had acted as both a big
brother and a surrogate mother to her. Cinch was kind in that way
best friends of older brothers tended to be kind. Forwa admitted
that she had something of a crush on him, but he'd never see her
as anything more than a kid sister.
The lights of Colony One blinked
on and off outside her window. How was Cinch doing now? Was he
worried about her? The Novie ship would dock on Colony One in two
days, so he shouldn't be too worried, but she did wonder about
him. And papa would probably be worried, but that's because she
was his only daughter and heir. Parents tended to worry
excessively.
She opened her eyes and stared
into the darkness, and tried to pull the leg of her borrowed
pajamas down with one large clawed toe. The material was nice and
soft, but there was a reason that the Novie preferred less
snaggable fabrics. Her own diplomatic robes were so tightly woven
that they were water resistant, and she'd never have to worry
about causing a run.
Finally, the thoughts of
comparative fabrics tired Forwa, and she fell asleep, clutching
her satin eiderdown and for some reason thinking of that strange
tall boy whose name was so similar to her own.
* * *
[Ending song: The Promise by Michael Nyman ]
Episode Four: The Anti-Alien League
makes an unexpected appearance at Relena's press conference.
Zechs contacts Quatre with disturbing news -- the plans for the
custom Gundams have apparently gone missing, and no one knows
how. Lady Une begins to form her own suspicions about the Novie
and the Setche -- especially the enigmatic Zwit. And a shocking
tragedy brings two people together in the most unlikely place.
Watch for it!
Want the actual lyrics for Airmail from the Moon? They are at the Anime
Lyrics Library, courtesy
of kaijyuu M of the Two Mix Electronic Library. The English lyrics used at the
beginning of the episode were done by me, Cat Who. They are not
an exact translation, but they are pretty close.
I don't own Gundam Wing or any
of the characters in here so far. If I did, I would be rich, but
alas, I'm obviously poor. Oh well. Gundam Wing is actually owned
by Bandai Visual, Sotsu Agency, and TV Tokyo. Airmail from the
Moon is ©1999 to Two Mix, and The Promise is ©1997 to Michael
Nyman. Neither was used with permission.
