DECISIONS pt. 2 - Chapter 9 of the KINDRED SPIRITS saga
Written by Sandrock (sandrock@gundamwing.mailbox.as)
(elsydeon@pacific.net.sg)
LEGAL DISCLAIMER
GW belongs to someone else. That's why KINDRED SPIRITS is a fanfic and not
an OVA series.
Content Guideline - violence, mild suggestive material
April 19th, After Century(AC) Year 195, 5:30am
The street was deserted. In the distance, the sound of a police siren wailed
endlessly, a stark contrast to the silent rumbling of the few vehicles still
on the roads in the early morning. The air was bitter cold, a horrid
companion to the searing heat of the day - yet another sign of the reported
malfunctions with the environmental control satellites in low orbit.
In the shadows, they lurked... the dregs of society - the unwanted, the
orphans, the homeless. The gangs, the drug addicts, the prostitutes.
In the shadows, the boy walked. Silently. Aimlessly.
Some turned to look at the boy. Most couldn't care less. A young kid,
dressed in a tattered jumpsuit, yanked at the boy's chestnut-brown braid as
he walked past. He ignored the boy. Some of the working girls tried to
interest him in their services. He ignored them. Some of the hooligans
thought he'd make a ripe target, ready for the picking.
He soon taught them they'd have been better off ignoring him.
And yet he walked.
Silently. Aimlessly.
*****
It was a plain wooden box - simple, unvarnished, rough around the edges. In
the tiny darkened room where it lay, it looked more like a cargo container
in a warehouse waiting for transport. It certainly looked nothing like the
coffin that it was supposed to be.
The professor took a step forward, placing his hand on the wooden surface.
"Zechs, I want you to arrange to have it brought down to the medical lab. J
and the others are waiting for it. We have to learn why he went berserk. In
the meantime, contact Relena and ask her to get her department to prepare a
burial site in the compound."
The white-blond nodded, "Yes, sir."
Professor G paused. Looking up, he gazed at the other, "And Zechs..."
"Yes, professor?"
"No markings for the grave, Zechs. We don't need more questions. Ensure that
Gardening restores the area to its previous state immediately after the
burial."
Zechs was silent for a moment.
"... I understand, sir."
The professor nodded, "Good lad. One last thing... I need to speak to Duo.
Where is he?"
Zechs shook his head, "Duo didn't return with us, sir. He said he wanted to
walk a little before coming back."
G's eyes narrowed, "And you let him?"
The white-blond frowned, "Sir, it's not like I could've stopped him. He was
rational and calm, sir. He did not overreact... to what he saw. I saw no
reason to stop him."
G nodded, "Alright, Zechs. Carry on."
*****
April 19th AC 195, 9:15am
Heero tugged uncomfortably at the dark blue collared shirt he had chosen to
replace the green sleeveless vest of the night before; the vest hadn't
seemed proper attire to be in while walking around the city.
It felt kind of good to be out in the open once again, making his way
through the crowded morning streets of a chaotic city. After the events of
the past twenty-four hours, even the slightest hint of normalcy was a
cherished one.
He shifted the haversack on his back into a more comfortable position, also
to remind himself that it was still there. He glanced down at his watch.
*9:17. Good. I'm still early.*
The Japanese youth had agreed to meet Quatre Winner at his hotel in about an
hour's
time. The hotel in question wasn't that far away, which meant he could
afford a leisurely stroll. He allowed himself a small smile.
Glancing across the street, he found himself looking at the familiar red,
white and yellow facade of a popular fast-food chain, and it was only then
that he realised it'd been a while since he'd last eaten anything.
Heero's stomach rumbled, and his thoughts returned to the tray of food that
he'd left untouched in his room at Veritas the night before. The tray that
Relena had brought for him.
The youth shook his head. The girl remained an enigma to him. Like Duo and
the rest, she was vaguely familiar... and the more time he spent around her,
the more he realised how incoherent his thoughts became.
No, he thought firmly. There are more important things for you to focus on
right now, Heero. Your world's breaking apart around you and all you have on
your mind is your hormones?
As he pushed open the glass doors of the fast-food joint, a familiar shape
standing in an adjacent alleyway caught his eye. He paused, moving out of
the doorway to get a better look.
*****
Leaning against the rough wall of the alleyway, Duo Maxwell paused between
bites, staring at the breakfast sausage muffin he had grabbed from the
nearby fast-food outlet. He knew he needed to eat something. He was hungry
and his internal status monitors registered that his cybernetic
augmentations were
running low on energy... they sourced their energy from the food his
mostly-organic body consumed, but the requirements to keep the augmentations
running were far higher than that of the organic components. The end result
was simple... Duo had to eat a lot more than a normal teen his age.
He snorted. *A normal teen your age, Duo? Ha. You're only three months old.
The only other 'teen' your age... is dead.*
He took another bite, then chucked the muffin aside in disgust. *How can you
eat... let alone feel hungry... after what just happened?*
*... I hate you...*
Inside, he knew the answer... the self-preservation directives encoded into
his memory enhancements forced him to do so... he couldn't 'starve' himself
even if he wanted to.
*... I hate you... so much.*
He shook his head again.
*Why, Solo? Why?*
"Duo?"
The braided youth blinked, and looked up.
*****
"Sir? It's 9:30, sir. You asked for a wake-up call."
Squinting, Quatre Raberba Winner yawned, trying to blink the sleep out of
his eyes. He gazed, his vision still a little blurred, in the direction of
the voice.
"Very well... thank you."
Running a hand through his thick blond hair, Quatre tried to recall the
events of the night before.
After meeting up with Heero in Sister's room, they'd made their way over to
the professors. The brief encounter with Relena and the old professor had
proven amusing, and Quatre allowed himself a small smile. He didn't even
need special powers to put two-and-two together about those two... the way
they reacted had spoken volumes. It was surprising, or so Quatre thought,
that even in times of greatest distress... there was some vestige of
hope.
The other surprise had been when they met up with the professors, only to
find them most willing to agree to Quatre's plan. The young blond had
prepared an emphatic speech to convince the professors to allow Heero to
come with him, but it had proven unnecessary, as the professors had agreed
almost before he'd finished speaking, on condition that Heero kept his
communication device with him at all times and promised to report in daily.
Something had been amiss in that meeting, Quatre sensed, but it had nothing
to do with Heero. The professors were concerned about something else, as
they should be... about Solo. Less than five minutes after the two of them
had entered the room and proposed his plan, the professors had excused
themselves and had the guards usher them out.
He had then made plans with Heero to meet him the following morning, and had
gone back to the hotel to get some sleep.
The young blond yawned. It had been less than three hours since he fell
asleep and his exhausted body was screaming for more.
But there were things to be done. He eyed the employee who had woken him up,
"Arrange for breakfast and send Rashid in, please. That'll be all."
The man blinked, "Um... sir... Rashid was... remember?"
Quatre frowned, "Rashid was what?"
"Injured, sir. Yesterday, while you weren't here, sir. There was a huge
ruckus coming from your room. Rashid had just returned from sending back
those representatives from the agency you're in negotiations with and he
went to investigate, but we didn't hear from him for a while. When we went
to check, your room was destroyed and Rashid was severely injured. He's
warded
at a hospital nearby and the doctors report he will need several weeks to
recover."
Quatre froze.
*Rashid was in the room?*
He tried to recall the events that had occurred when Solo had arrived to
escort him back. Rashid had told his staff that Quatre had gone out and that
they were to turn away all visitors, but the professors had been persistent.
The first two agents had been sent away instantly, but the next two had been
more insistent and Rashid had had to have the two forcibly put into a
vehicle and he had to drive them back to the organisation himself.
The young blond shuddered as he recalled what he had done to the two as he
watched their vehicle leave the hotel driveway, reaching into their minds,
crushing and twisting until all that was left was a single phrase - 'their
blood
is on your hands. don't send anymore.'
He hadn't liked doing it, but he had no choice. In the confused state that
he'd been in at the time...
Then Solo had arrived, blasting through the reinforced doors of his room as
though they were paper. It was then that he realised his suspicions about
the whole situation were quite confirmed... and that was when he drew a
blank.
His memory of events after that refused to return. All he remembered was his
other self, the other personality within him that could speak to him and
that was the manifestation of his newtype powers, speaking to him... warning
him that he was losing control...
and then... everything had gone blank.
Until he woke up in the professors' command center, restrained physically
and with his abilities suppressed.
They had told him he'd gone berserk... that he'd trashed Solo and the room
where they'd met.
He shook his head in disgust. Rashid must've returned, only to be caught up
in whatever he had done.
How was he ever going to explain it to him? Would he even get a chance? He
sighed.
In a way, he was grateful to the professors. Somehow... knowing that they
knew his problem, and knowing that they would help him with it... was a
great assurance.
Having his problem explained back to him... as J had done... had been...
strangely calming.
He frowned, though. In the rush of events of the night before, he hadn't
realised it. But now, with some rest and a head that was slowly clearing...
it was becoming obvious.
His newtype powers were still there... he could sense the thoughts and
emotions of the man in the room with him and even those of the people
beyond.. and he could feel the latent powers simmering within him... the
powers he had used to tear through anything in his way when he had raged the
night before...
... but the voice was gone.
*****
*Heero...*
Wonder how he found me, the braided youth found himself thinking. Glancing
the boy over, his gaze fell upon the large haversack the Japanese youth
carried slung over one shoulder.
Raising an eyebrow, Duo tried to form a small smirk, "Going somewhere,
Heero?"
To his surprise, the other boy nodded, "Yeah... I'm following Quatre back to
Singapore. He wants to help me find out about my past, apparently."
Duo blinked, "And the professors agreed?"
Heero nodded.
The braided youth looked down for a moment, "Well... great then. Have a safe
trip."
*Everyone's going...*
"Are you okay, Duo?"
Duo Maxwell looked up at the other boy, "Yeah... I'll be okay, Heero. I told
ya... you don't have to worry about me... it takes a lot to to get me down,
alright?"
Out of the corner of his eye, the braided youth watched as Heero seemed to
shuffle his feet for a moment, as though uncertain about what to say. It
lasted barely a moment, however.
"Duo... there's something you need to know about... about... Solo."
"Yeah?"
"I found out... last night... that he went berserk because..."
Duo looked away, "Because of the blond kid, right?"
Heero paused, "You knew?"
The braided youth allowed himself a small humourless smile, "I'm not dumb,
Heero. I can put two and two together. Besides, the professors did say that
they suspected it was his doing - throwing him around like that."
Heero's eyes narrowed, "Duo... I don't think you're..."
"Heero."
The Japanese youth found Duo staring straight at him, matching his gaze.
There was
an odd calm emanating from them, strange considering the circumstances.
"It's over, Heero. I don't need to know the details. It won't help at all.
I'll be fine."
The braided youth walked a slight distance away, "I just wanted to be alone
for a while... that's why I didn't go back last night."
Heero watched as he continued to walk down the alleyway, "I meant what I
said, Heero... I'll be okay. You'd better getting moving or you'll be late.
I'll see ya when you get back."
He disappeared around the corner.
*****
Quatre Raberba Winner eyed the breakfast platter his staff had sent in for
him, toying with the food as he took the occasional bite. It was odd - he
always had a good appetite in the morning, but he found himself unable to
eat very much today.
All the excitement that's been happening, he guessed.
*Rashid.*
Putting down the fork, he took a sip of strong black coffee as he looked out
of the hotel suite's large full-length windows.
*Should I call him? How injured is he? Would he even be able to answer me?*
Quatre sighed.
A light tap on the door to his room interrupted his thoughts. A fraction of
a second, and the door opened, revealing two young men in business attire -
the
first was the staff member who had woken him up earlier, the other he didn't
recognise.
The first man walked up to Quatre, with the other trailing him a short
distance behind, "Sir, as you requested, I've found a temporary replacement
for Rashid. He's from the local office... he's been with the PR department
for a while now and his work record is nothing but exemplary."
Quatre nodded, "Very well. You may go."
The first employee nodded, leaving the room and shutting the door behind
him.
The other man said nothing, standing motionless and simply looking at Quatre
as though awaiting an order.
Quatre looked him over. He wasn't very old, but he couldn't place an age to
him. Dressed in a neatly crisp white business shirt and trousers, his
stunningly green eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight emanating from the
window behind. His hair was a little longer than would be accepted in most
business circles, but it was neatly kept and swept back in a conventional
manner.
Not too bad, Quatre thought, he'll do for a while. He paused, wondering.
*Better to be safe than sorry, I guess.*
Reaching out with his mind with as little force as he could apply, he tried
to see into the other boy.
And he drew a blank. Quatre frowned.
Almost simultaneously, the other boy took a step backwards, as though
pushed. He blinked, as though startled by something, then looked at Quatre.
He spoke, "Sir... I would appreciate if you didn't do that. It is a matter
of personal privacy."
Quatre blinked, looking down at the guy's records. And found what he
expected.
The guy was a low-level newtype. Able to sense emotions and feelings in
people, and capable of establishing low-level barriers against mind invasion
and scanning, but not much more.
*That must've been why he reeled backwards.* Quatre's reaching out, even at
his lowest power and for a fraction of a second, had been enough to shatter
through the other guy's defenses.
Looking at the boy who was now looking back at him warily, Quatre smiled in
what he hoped was an apologetic way, "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done
that. I just wanted to be sure..."
He shook his head, "That was very rude of me... I'm afraid that I'm still...
very new to this ability", he pointed to his head, "that I have..."
Quatre paused again, "...I'm sorry."
The other boy nodded, "It's okay, sir. I understand. I remember what it was
like when I first discovered it myself."
Quatre tensed, half expecting the boy to mention something about the
strength with which Quatre had tried to probe him. But the boy just stood
there, waiting.
The blond youth smiled, "Thank you." Looking down, he closed the boy's
personnel records, "I'm preparing to return to Singapore shortly, as you may
have already been briefed. I'd like you to go ahead to the airport and make
sure all the arrangements have been made."
"Yes, sir."
The boy started walking out of the room, but Quatre called out, "Um..."
He realised he didn't know his name. Picking up the personnel folder, he
flipped it open.
The other boy spoke, "Tryten, sir. My name's Tryten."
Quatre looked up, nodding, "Alright then, Tryten. I'll see you in a few
hours."
*****
Quietly, Duo Maxwell made his way through one of the warren-like corridors
of the organisation he called home.
Home.
Walking as silently as a cat, he smiled perfunctorily at the people who
greeted him as they passed by - Duo was well-known within the organisation
as a friendly, cheerful guy, and a lot of the staff liked him, even if they
didn't know what he really was.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he sighed.
"So, you've returned after all."
Glancing up, he realised he'd nearly reached the end of the corridor. And
one of the professors was standing there.
The braided youth nodded, "Yes, sir. Mission... accomplished, sir."
J nodded, "I know... Zechs filled us in when he returned." Walking over to
the youth, the older man put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "You had us
worried there for a while, Duo... when you didn't return with Zechs."
Duo shook his head instinctively, reassuringly, "Sir... you know I wouldn't
do anything to compromise our objectives."
The professor smiled, "Good."
Turning away, he started walking down an adjacent corridor, "The logs show
you didn't have time to be repaired before we sent you out... we've managed
to set up a manual maintenance centre for you... until we manage to fully
repair Sister. Go find Relena or Zechs... they'll have you fixed up in no
time."
Watching the professor's diminishing figure, Duo nodded, "Thank you... sir."
*****
Charles Maxwell stared at the equipment arrayed before him, and nodded,
satisfied. At least one could still find good help these days...
Keeping a watchful eye on the status monitors, his fingers flew over the
terminal keyboard, correcting an error in the biological accelerator
functions.
All was going well. Quite well, indeed.
*****
Heero Yuy shifted uncomfortably, watching the blond youth standing next to
him out of the corner of his eye. Dressed in a formal black business suit,
Quatre Raberba Winner looked nothing like the lanky kid wrapped in a blanket
he had bumped into the night before.
Having arrived at his hotel on time, Heero had spent a few minutes waiting
outside Quatre's rooms before the blond youth had showed himself. Quatre had
smiled and exchanged a few polite remarks, but hadn't said much beyond that.
The trip to the airport hadn't been much more eventful. Seperated by the
large floorspace inside Quatre's limousine, Heero had contented himself by
looking out the window at the passing cityscape, since Quatre didn't seem to
want to talk much.
And now, they were finally approaching the vehicle that would take Heero
halfway across the world, and hopefully closer to the truth of his past.
A tinge of anxiety filled the boy at the thought of the task before him.
Where would he search? How would he search?
He jumped slightly as a sudden pressure gripped his left shoulder. Turning
to look, he saw Quatre reaching out, squeezing his shoulder.
The blond youth smiled, "Don't worry, Heero. You'll do fine. You'll find
what you're looking for."
Heero looked away.
The shuttle stopped, the doors opening with a loud hiss. Quatre and his
entourage alighted from the shuttle briskly, and Heero found himself alone
for a moment before he caught up with them. Catching sight of Quatre, he saw
the other boy walking towards a plane parked a short distance away.
At the base of the steps leading up into the aircraft, the Japanese youth
hesitated.
*Do I really want to do this? Do I really... want to find out?*
"Heero."
Looking up, he saw Quatre at the entrance to the craft. The boy nodded at
him once.
*****
"Tryten, bring Mr. Yuy to one of the private rooms and see if he requires
anything else. I'll be in my office up front. See to it that I'm not
disturbed... I think I'll need to get a little bit of shuteye before we land
back home."
"Yes, sir."
Heero eyed the youth named Tryten. Apparently, he was some sort of personal
aide to Quatre, though the Japanese youth vaguely recalled someone
mentioning that Quatre's personal assistant was a large Arabic guy. He
shrugged it off.
It took a moment for Heero to realise that the Tryten guy had said something
to him and was now looking at him. He blushed slightly, and apologised.
Tryten shook his head, "It's quite alright, Mr. Yuy. I simply asked if you'd
like to go to your rooms now."
Heero nodded.
"If you'll follow me..."
*****
Heero stared around him. Quatre's jet was unlike any other he'd ever seen
before. Lacking the cramped rows of seating found on commercial jets, the
Winner personal aircraft looked more like a small house - complete with
bedrooms, studies, bathrooms and even a kitchen area.
Opening one of the doors, Tryten motioned for him to enter.
He gaped again. The room was bigger than his apartment back in Los Angeles.
"If that will be all, Mr. Yuy?"
Heero nodded.
*****
Staring pensively out the window at the clouds passing below them, Heero
sighed. The aircraft had been in the air for about an hour already, and if
the computer on the desk had been right, they would reach Singapore in
another two hours or so. Normally, the flight took less than two-and-a-half
hours, but the pilot had announced that they would be making a short detour
to avoid some erratic weather conditions.
Turning away from the window, the Japanese youth walked over to the small
fridge, taking out a can of soda. Staring at the can with slight distaste,
he remembered the numerous incidents he'd had with soda cans since his
abilities were awakened. After countless busted attempts at opening the cans
without crushing or otherwise destroying them first, the youth had finally
gained some control over his new strength - at least enough to open cans and
turn shower knobs without breaking them.
Sighing again, he gingerly opened the can, ignoring the loud fizzing. Taking
a sip, he made his way over to the large, soft couch, and sat down.
That was when the plane rocked.
*****
"All systems clear, Captain."
"All systems clear, check."
"Engines stable. Autopilot running within normal parameters."
The captain nodded, "Good thing you noticed the storm up ahead... we
would've been in for a bumpy ride, and I heard that the boss wanted to take
a nap-"
The pilot was interrupted as the plane suddenly twisted and turned,
nosediving over three hundred meters before righting itself for a moment.
Without warning, it started ascending almost vertically again. Swearing
almost in unison, the two pilots struggled with the controls, trying to
regain control of the plane.
Glancing at the monitors, the pilot felt a chill travel down his spine - all
the controls were dead, the monitors flickering wildly and spitting out
gibberish instead of the vital information required to control the aircraft.
Slapping the intercom, the co-pilot tried to contact the rest of the staff
and crew, but found himself talking to static.
There was nothing to do but wait. And pray.
*****
Bracing himself against the violent rocking, Tryten did his best to make his
way towards the front of the plane. The disturbances were emanating from
somewhere in that area; he could feel it.
It was getting stronger. It had to be him. The weather was clear, there were
no electromagnetic disturbances in the area... nothing to throw the plane
into such a fit.
Nothing natural, at least.
The youth paused, wondering...
*Am I up to it? Can I... stop it?*
He reached the door leading into Quatre Raberba Winner's personal quarters.
*Is he... too powerful?*
The plane rocked unexpectedly, throwing the boy against the other side of
the aircraft's hull. Grimacing, the boy tried to ignore the pain.
*I have to survive. I have to succeed. I can't fail... I never fail.*
Throwing himself against the door, he who called himself Tryten flew into the room as the plane
made a sudden swerve. Righting himself, his gaze took in the room.
And gasped.
Furniture lay strewn all over the room. Nothing was left untouched -
monitors were ripped out of the walls, desks were overturned. Pillows lay
ripped on the ground, feathers flying everywhere.
The only thing undisturbed in the whole room was... Quatre... floating
several inches off the bed he had doubtlessly been sleeping on. He was still
covered with the blanket he had been using.
Within such close proximity, Tryten could feel the strength emanating from
the boy. It was overpowering... dark... frightening. Though he remained calm
on the outside, somewhere deep inside, something that was Tryten...
something that was more than Tryten... screamed, unable to comprehend the
power that lay within the other boy.
He could feel it. The raw power that lay within the other was completely
overwhelming. Something was holding the power at bay now, but there was a
battle going on within the boy, he could see that. He did not want to see
what would happen should the boy lose control.
Tryten paused... wondering how he could possibly succeed.
Treading slowly, he made his way cautiously over to the blond youth floating
in the air. He had to approach this carefully... heaven only knew what would
happen to him if the boy reacted the wrong way.
Now by his side, Tryten tentatively reached a hand out to the blond youth's
sleeping form. Bracing himself, he placed first one hand on the boy, then th
e other.
He closed his eyes. Focusing. Concentrating.
He could feel the other. Quatre had fallen asleep... and fallen prey to a
nightmare. And he had reacted to it.
It was just... instinct.
He turned his attention to the nightmare that had affected Quatre so.
Slowly, seconds later, Tryten opened his eyes. The disturbances were
lessening. Slowly, but certainly.
It were lessening. The plane was righting itself again.
Tryten smiled.
They would survive.
Unaware of all around him, Quatre slept on.
*****
Realising that the turbulence had finally stopped, Heero heaved a sigh of
relief. Letting go of his deathgrip on the wall of his cabin, Heero
inspected the damage. Once the disturbance had gotten strong enough to throw
him out of his seat and into the wall opposite, Heero had lashed out, trying
to grab hold of anything to stablise himself. The wall had been as good as
any other choice, and with his new abilities, he had effortlessly dug a
hand-hold in the metal of the cabin wall, riding out the rocking and
shaking.
Perhaps this superhuman stuff did have its advantages, after all.
Eyeing the carnage of furniture and assorted other stuff lying around the
room that the turbulence had left in its wake, he guessed they wouldn't make
too much of a fuss about the small marks he'd made in the wall.
Shrugging it off, Heero Yuy made his way out of the cabin, resolved to first
check on Quatre to see if he was okay... then to go question the pilots on
what they'd been drinking.
*****
April 19th AC 195 12:15am EST (April 20th AC 195, somewhere after midnight,
Singapore time)
It was funny how time worked, or so thought Heero Yuy. Having left Los
Angeles about three hours ago in broad daylight, they had arrived halfway
across the world in the dead of night - Singapore was over fourteen hours
ahead of Los Angeles.
Heero eyed Quatre suspiciously, as they got off the plane and cleared
immigration before getting into a waiting car. The blond youth hadn't
mentioned anything about the turbulence and had emerged from his room
looking immensely refreshed(and a lot more talkative)... could he have
possibly slept through it all?
Smiling now, Quatre was talking to Heero as the car took them down the
brightly-lit main highway(they were called expressways here, Quatre noted)
leading away from the airport to the central city area.
"I don't think I'll be able to make travel arrangements for you immediately,
especially not now, since most of the agencies would be closed at this time
of night. I -would- suggest that you spend a few days here first... while
Tryten makes the necessary... arrangements for your travel."
Heero nodded, understanding - he couldn't very well return to Japan using
his current travel documents - whoever had sent him to the heart of the
Euro-American Alliance would be tipped off about his return... and no doubt
would come looking for him.
He had managed to enter Singapore on his own documents as the country wasn't
part of the Federation. As part of the treaty that ended the war between the
EA Alliance and the Asian Federation, the two governments had agreed that
one part of both their territories would be set aside as 'neutral ground' -
to act as buffer zones and central areas for commerce and trade between the
two sides. On the Euro-American side, Switzerland had been chosen as the
neutral ground - a tradition that dated back many centuries. On the Asian
side, Singapore had been chosen - simply because the country was
geographically strategic - also a tradition.
Besides, the professors had mentioned, when telling him what little could be
gleaned of his real history, that he had spent some time in a military
facility in Indonesia... Indonesia was close to Singapore; perhaps he could
find out a little about his activities there.
Eyeing the brightly-lit cityscape now coming into view, the Japanese youth
saw... for the first time in a long while... a glimmer of hope.
*****
Charles Maxwell held his breath, "Easy now... the mix must be -exact-, exact
I tell you! Slightly off... and I don't want to know what we'll end up
with!"
The assistant nodded, wiping the sweat off his brow as he tapped at the
controls.
Professor Maxwell nodded, "Do it."
The assistant hit the 'execute' command. Machinery hissed. Computers around
the room beeped, and processed.
Charles Maxwell smiled.
"Success."
The assistants were already turning to each other, making their way out of
the laboratory and clapping each other on the back as they congratulated
each other on a job well done. Maxwell watched them go. As good as they
were, he knew he had to let them go - the process had begun and could be
automated all the way until its completion. They weren't needed any more.
Charles Maxwell grimaced - he hated having to do this... but it was
necessary. These projects were too secretive and too much was at stake;
James and the others demanded it of him and he was obliged to comply.
While he waited, he turned to the nearest computer, "Activate dictation
subroutine. Send message to Veritas, Professor J, code 6098-102. Message
reads - system up and running; expected completion within one month. Message
ends. Send."
The computer beeped. Looking at his watch, he decided the assistants had
gone far enough. Reaching out to a nearby console, he pressed the button.
The screams were still audible. He grimaced again.
He hated listening to people die.
*****
TO BE CONTINUED...
Sandrock
Written by Sandrock (sandrock@gundamwing.mailbox.as)
(elsydeon@pacific.net.sg)
LEGAL DISCLAIMER
GW belongs to someone else. That's why KINDRED SPIRITS is a fanfic and not
an OVA series.
Content Guideline - violence, mild suggestive material
April 19th, After Century(AC) Year 195, 5:30am
The street was deserted. In the distance, the sound of a police siren wailed
endlessly, a stark contrast to the silent rumbling of the few vehicles still
on the roads in the early morning. The air was bitter cold, a horrid
companion to the searing heat of the day - yet another sign of the reported
malfunctions with the environmental control satellites in low orbit.
In the shadows, they lurked... the dregs of society - the unwanted, the
orphans, the homeless. The gangs, the drug addicts, the prostitutes.
In the shadows, the boy walked. Silently. Aimlessly.
Some turned to look at the boy. Most couldn't care less. A young kid,
dressed in a tattered jumpsuit, yanked at the boy's chestnut-brown braid as
he walked past. He ignored the boy. Some of the working girls tried to
interest him in their services. He ignored them. Some of the hooligans
thought he'd make a ripe target, ready for the picking.
He soon taught them they'd have been better off ignoring him.
And yet he walked.
Silently. Aimlessly.
*****
It was a plain wooden box - simple, unvarnished, rough around the edges. In
the tiny darkened room where it lay, it looked more like a cargo container
in a warehouse waiting for transport. It certainly looked nothing like the
coffin that it was supposed to be.
The professor took a step forward, placing his hand on the wooden surface.
"Zechs, I want you to arrange to have it brought down to the medical lab. J
and the others are waiting for it. We have to learn why he went berserk. In
the meantime, contact Relena and ask her to get her department to prepare a
burial site in the compound."
The white-blond nodded, "Yes, sir."
Professor G paused. Looking up, he gazed at the other, "And Zechs..."
"Yes, professor?"
"No markings for the grave, Zechs. We don't need more questions. Ensure that
Gardening restores the area to its previous state immediately after the
burial."
Zechs was silent for a moment.
"... I understand, sir."
The professor nodded, "Good lad. One last thing... I need to speak to Duo.
Where is he?"
Zechs shook his head, "Duo didn't return with us, sir. He said he wanted to
walk a little before coming back."
G's eyes narrowed, "And you let him?"
The white-blond frowned, "Sir, it's not like I could've stopped him. He was
rational and calm, sir. He did not overreact... to what he saw. I saw no
reason to stop him."
G nodded, "Alright, Zechs. Carry on."
*****
April 19th AC 195, 9:15am
Heero tugged uncomfortably at the dark blue collared shirt he had chosen to
replace the green sleeveless vest of the night before; the vest hadn't
seemed proper attire to be in while walking around the city.
It felt kind of good to be out in the open once again, making his way
through the crowded morning streets of a chaotic city. After the events of
the past twenty-four hours, even the slightest hint of normalcy was a
cherished one.
He shifted the haversack on his back into a more comfortable position, also
to remind himself that it was still there. He glanced down at his watch.
*9:17. Good. I'm still early.*
The Japanese youth had agreed to meet Quatre Winner at his hotel in about an
hour's
time. The hotel in question wasn't that far away, which meant he could
afford a leisurely stroll. He allowed himself a small smile.
Glancing across the street, he found himself looking at the familiar red,
white and yellow facade of a popular fast-food chain, and it was only then
that he realised it'd been a while since he'd last eaten anything.
Heero's stomach rumbled, and his thoughts returned to the tray of food that
he'd left untouched in his room at Veritas the night before. The tray that
Relena had brought for him.
The youth shook his head. The girl remained an enigma to him. Like Duo and
the rest, she was vaguely familiar... and the more time he spent around her,
the more he realised how incoherent his thoughts became.
No, he thought firmly. There are more important things for you to focus on
right now, Heero. Your world's breaking apart around you and all you have on
your mind is your hormones?
As he pushed open the glass doors of the fast-food joint, a familiar shape
standing in an adjacent alleyway caught his eye. He paused, moving out of
the doorway to get a better look.
*****
Leaning against the rough wall of the alleyway, Duo Maxwell paused between
bites, staring at the breakfast sausage muffin he had grabbed from the
nearby fast-food outlet. He knew he needed to eat something. He was hungry
and his internal status monitors registered that his cybernetic
augmentations were
running low on energy... they sourced their energy from the food his
mostly-organic body consumed, but the requirements to keep the augmentations
running were far higher than that of the organic components. The end result
was simple... Duo had to eat a lot more than a normal teen his age.
He snorted. *A normal teen your age, Duo? Ha. You're only three months old.
The only other 'teen' your age... is dead.*
He took another bite, then chucked the muffin aside in disgust. *How can you
eat... let alone feel hungry... after what just happened?*
*... I hate you...*
Inside, he knew the answer... the self-preservation directives encoded into
his memory enhancements forced him to do so... he couldn't 'starve' himself
even if he wanted to.
*... I hate you... so much.*
He shook his head again.
*Why, Solo? Why?*
"Duo?"
The braided youth blinked, and looked up.
*****
"Sir? It's 9:30, sir. You asked for a wake-up call."
Squinting, Quatre Raberba Winner yawned, trying to blink the sleep out of
his eyes. He gazed, his vision still a little blurred, in the direction of
the voice.
"Very well... thank you."
Running a hand through his thick blond hair, Quatre tried to recall the
events of the night before.
After meeting up with Heero in Sister's room, they'd made their way over to
the professors. The brief encounter with Relena and the old professor had
proven amusing, and Quatre allowed himself a small smile. He didn't even
need special powers to put two-and-two together about those two... the way
they reacted had spoken volumes. It was surprising, or so Quatre thought,
that even in times of greatest distress... there was some vestige of
hope.
The other surprise had been when they met up with the professors, only to
find them most willing to agree to Quatre's plan. The young blond had
prepared an emphatic speech to convince the professors to allow Heero to
come with him, but it had proven unnecessary, as the professors had agreed
almost before he'd finished speaking, on condition that Heero kept his
communication device with him at all times and promised to report in daily.
Something had been amiss in that meeting, Quatre sensed, but it had nothing
to do with Heero. The professors were concerned about something else, as
they should be... about Solo. Less than five minutes after the two of them
had entered the room and proposed his plan, the professors had excused
themselves and had the guards usher them out.
He had then made plans with Heero to meet him the following morning, and had
gone back to the hotel to get some sleep.
The young blond yawned. It had been less than three hours since he fell
asleep and his exhausted body was screaming for more.
But there were things to be done. He eyed the employee who had woken him up,
"Arrange for breakfast and send Rashid in, please. That'll be all."
The man blinked, "Um... sir... Rashid was... remember?"
Quatre frowned, "Rashid was what?"
"Injured, sir. Yesterday, while you weren't here, sir. There was a huge
ruckus coming from your room. Rashid had just returned from sending back
those representatives from the agency you're in negotiations with and he
went to investigate, but we didn't hear from him for a while. When we went
to check, your room was destroyed and Rashid was severely injured. He's
warded
at a hospital nearby and the doctors report he will need several weeks to
recover."
Quatre froze.
*Rashid was in the room?*
He tried to recall the events that had occurred when Solo had arrived to
escort him back. Rashid had told his staff that Quatre had gone out and that
they were to turn away all visitors, but the professors had been persistent.
The first two agents had been sent away instantly, but the next two had been
more insistent and Rashid had had to have the two forcibly put into a
vehicle and he had to drive them back to the organisation himself.
The young blond shuddered as he recalled what he had done to the two as he
watched their vehicle leave the hotel driveway, reaching into their minds,
crushing and twisting until all that was left was a single phrase - 'their
blood
is on your hands. don't send anymore.'
He hadn't liked doing it, but he had no choice. In the confused state that
he'd been in at the time...
Then Solo had arrived, blasting through the reinforced doors of his room as
though they were paper. It was then that he realised his suspicions about
the whole situation were quite confirmed... and that was when he drew a
blank.
His memory of events after that refused to return. All he remembered was his
other self, the other personality within him that could speak to him and
that was the manifestation of his newtype powers, speaking to him... warning
him that he was losing control...
and then... everything had gone blank.
Until he woke up in the professors' command center, restrained physically
and with his abilities suppressed.
They had told him he'd gone berserk... that he'd trashed Solo and the room
where they'd met.
He shook his head in disgust. Rashid must've returned, only to be caught up
in whatever he had done.
How was he ever going to explain it to him? Would he even get a chance? He
sighed.
In a way, he was grateful to the professors. Somehow... knowing that they
knew his problem, and knowing that they would help him with it... was a
great assurance.
Having his problem explained back to him... as J had done... had been...
strangely calming.
He frowned, though. In the rush of events of the night before, he hadn't
realised it. But now, with some rest and a head that was slowly clearing...
it was becoming obvious.
His newtype powers were still there... he could sense the thoughts and
emotions of the man in the room with him and even those of the people
beyond.. and he could feel the latent powers simmering within him... the
powers he had used to tear through anything in his way when he had raged the
night before...
... but the voice was gone.
*****
*Heero...*
Wonder how he found me, the braided youth found himself thinking. Glancing
the boy over, his gaze fell upon the large haversack the Japanese youth
carried slung over one shoulder.
Raising an eyebrow, Duo tried to form a small smirk, "Going somewhere,
Heero?"
To his surprise, the other boy nodded, "Yeah... I'm following Quatre back to
Singapore. He wants to help me find out about my past, apparently."
Duo blinked, "And the professors agreed?"
Heero nodded.
The braided youth looked down for a moment, "Well... great then. Have a safe
trip."
*Everyone's going...*
"Are you okay, Duo?"
Duo Maxwell looked up at the other boy, "Yeah... I'll be okay, Heero. I told
ya... you don't have to worry about me... it takes a lot to to get me down,
alright?"
Out of the corner of his eye, the braided youth watched as Heero seemed to
shuffle his feet for a moment, as though uncertain about what to say. It
lasted barely a moment, however.
"Duo... there's something you need to know about... about... Solo."
"Yeah?"
"I found out... last night... that he went berserk because..."
Duo looked away, "Because of the blond kid, right?"
Heero paused, "You knew?"
The braided youth allowed himself a small humourless smile, "I'm not dumb,
Heero. I can put two and two together. Besides, the professors did say that
they suspected it was his doing - throwing him around like that."
Heero's eyes narrowed, "Duo... I don't think you're..."
"Heero."
The Japanese youth found Duo staring straight at him, matching his gaze.
There was
an odd calm emanating from them, strange considering the circumstances.
"It's over, Heero. I don't need to know the details. It won't help at all.
I'll be fine."
The braided youth walked a slight distance away, "I just wanted to be alone
for a while... that's why I didn't go back last night."
Heero watched as he continued to walk down the alleyway, "I meant what I
said, Heero... I'll be okay. You'd better getting moving or you'll be late.
I'll see ya when you get back."
He disappeared around the corner.
*****
Quatre Raberba Winner eyed the breakfast platter his staff had sent in for
him, toying with the food as he took the occasional bite. It was odd - he
always had a good appetite in the morning, but he found himself unable to
eat very much today.
All the excitement that's been happening, he guessed.
*Rashid.*
Putting down the fork, he took a sip of strong black coffee as he looked out
of the hotel suite's large full-length windows.
*Should I call him? How injured is he? Would he even be able to answer me?*
Quatre sighed.
A light tap on the door to his room interrupted his thoughts. A fraction of
a second, and the door opened, revealing two young men in business attire -
the
first was the staff member who had woken him up earlier, the other he didn't
recognise.
The first man walked up to Quatre, with the other trailing him a short
distance behind, "Sir, as you requested, I've found a temporary replacement
for Rashid. He's from the local office... he's been with the PR department
for a while now and his work record is nothing but exemplary."
Quatre nodded, "Very well. You may go."
The first employee nodded, leaving the room and shutting the door behind
him.
The other man said nothing, standing motionless and simply looking at Quatre
as though awaiting an order.
Quatre looked him over. He wasn't very old, but he couldn't place an age to
him. Dressed in a neatly crisp white business shirt and trousers, his
stunningly green eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight emanating from the
window behind. His hair was a little longer than would be accepted in most
business circles, but it was neatly kept and swept back in a conventional
manner.
Not too bad, Quatre thought, he'll do for a while. He paused, wondering.
*Better to be safe than sorry, I guess.*
Reaching out with his mind with as little force as he could apply, he tried
to see into the other boy.
And he drew a blank. Quatre frowned.
Almost simultaneously, the other boy took a step backwards, as though
pushed. He blinked, as though startled by something, then looked at Quatre.
He spoke, "Sir... I would appreciate if you didn't do that. It is a matter
of personal privacy."
Quatre blinked, looking down at the guy's records. And found what he
expected.
The guy was a low-level newtype. Able to sense emotions and feelings in
people, and capable of establishing low-level barriers against mind invasion
and scanning, but not much more.
*That must've been why he reeled backwards.* Quatre's reaching out, even at
his lowest power and for a fraction of a second, had been enough to shatter
through the other guy's defenses.
Looking at the boy who was now looking back at him warily, Quatre smiled in
what he hoped was an apologetic way, "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have done
that. I just wanted to be sure..."
He shook his head, "That was very rude of me... I'm afraid that I'm still...
very new to this ability", he pointed to his head, "that I have..."
Quatre paused again, "...I'm sorry."
The other boy nodded, "It's okay, sir. I understand. I remember what it was
like when I first discovered it myself."
Quatre tensed, half expecting the boy to mention something about the
strength with which Quatre had tried to probe him. But the boy just stood
there, waiting.
The blond youth smiled, "Thank you." Looking down, he closed the boy's
personnel records, "I'm preparing to return to Singapore shortly, as you may
have already been briefed. I'd like you to go ahead to the airport and make
sure all the arrangements have been made."
"Yes, sir."
The boy started walking out of the room, but Quatre called out, "Um..."
He realised he didn't know his name. Picking up the personnel folder, he
flipped it open.
The other boy spoke, "Tryten, sir. My name's Tryten."
Quatre looked up, nodding, "Alright then, Tryten. I'll see you in a few
hours."
*****
Quietly, Duo Maxwell made his way through one of the warren-like corridors
of the organisation he called home.
Home.
Walking as silently as a cat, he smiled perfunctorily at the people who
greeted him as they passed by - Duo was well-known within the organisation
as a friendly, cheerful guy, and a lot of the staff liked him, even if they
didn't know what he really was.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he sighed.
"So, you've returned after all."
Glancing up, he realised he'd nearly reached the end of the corridor. And
one of the professors was standing there.
The braided youth nodded, "Yes, sir. Mission... accomplished, sir."
J nodded, "I know... Zechs filled us in when he returned." Walking over to
the youth, the older man put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "You had us
worried there for a while, Duo... when you didn't return with Zechs."
Duo shook his head instinctively, reassuringly, "Sir... you know I wouldn't
do anything to compromise our objectives."
The professor smiled, "Good."
Turning away, he started walking down an adjacent corridor, "The logs show
you didn't have time to be repaired before we sent you out... we've managed
to set up a manual maintenance centre for you... until we manage to fully
repair Sister. Go find Relena or Zechs... they'll have you fixed up in no
time."
Watching the professor's diminishing figure, Duo nodded, "Thank you... sir."
*****
Charles Maxwell stared at the equipment arrayed before him, and nodded,
satisfied. At least one could still find good help these days...
Keeping a watchful eye on the status monitors, his fingers flew over the
terminal keyboard, correcting an error in the biological accelerator
functions.
All was going well. Quite well, indeed.
*****
Heero Yuy shifted uncomfortably, watching the blond youth standing next to
him out of the corner of his eye. Dressed in a formal black business suit,
Quatre Raberba Winner looked nothing like the lanky kid wrapped in a blanket
he had bumped into the night before.
Having arrived at his hotel on time, Heero had spent a few minutes waiting
outside Quatre's rooms before the blond youth had showed himself. Quatre had
smiled and exchanged a few polite remarks, but hadn't said much beyond that.
The trip to the airport hadn't been much more eventful. Seperated by the
large floorspace inside Quatre's limousine, Heero had contented himself by
looking out the window at the passing cityscape, since Quatre didn't seem to
want to talk much.
And now, they were finally approaching the vehicle that would take Heero
halfway across the world, and hopefully closer to the truth of his past.
A tinge of anxiety filled the boy at the thought of the task before him.
Where would he search? How would he search?
He jumped slightly as a sudden pressure gripped his left shoulder. Turning
to look, he saw Quatre reaching out, squeezing his shoulder.
The blond youth smiled, "Don't worry, Heero. You'll do fine. You'll find
what you're looking for."
Heero looked away.
The shuttle stopped, the doors opening with a loud hiss. Quatre and his
entourage alighted from the shuttle briskly, and Heero found himself alone
for a moment before he caught up with them. Catching sight of Quatre, he saw
the other boy walking towards a plane parked a short distance away.
At the base of the steps leading up into the aircraft, the Japanese youth
hesitated.
*Do I really want to do this? Do I really... want to find out?*
"Heero."
Looking up, he saw Quatre at the entrance to the craft. The boy nodded at
him once.
*****
"Tryten, bring Mr. Yuy to one of the private rooms and see if he requires
anything else. I'll be in my office up front. See to it that I'm not
disturbed... I think I'll need to get a little bit of shuteye before we land
back home."
"Yes, sir."
Heero eyed the youth named Tryten. Apparently, he was some sort of personal
aide to Quatre, though the Japanese youth vaguely recalled someone
mentioning that Quatre's personal assistant was a large Arabic guy. He
shrugged it off.
It took a moment for Heero to realise that the Tryten guy had said something
to him and was now looking at him. He blushed slightly, and apologised.
Tryten shook his head, "It's quite alright, Mr. Yuy. I simply asked if you'd
like to go to your rooms now."
Heero nodded.
"If you'll follow me..."
*****
Heero stared around him. Quatre's jet was unlike any other he'd ever seen
before. Lacking the cramped rows of seating found on commercial jets, the
Winner personal aircraft looked more like a small house - complete with
bedrooms, studies, bathrooms and even a kitchen area.
Opening one of the doors, Tryten motioned for him to enter.
He gaped again. The room was bigger than his apartment back in Los Angeles.
"If that will be all, Mr. Yuy?"
Heero nodded.
*****
Staring pensively out the window at the clouds passing below them, Heero
sighed. The aircraft had been in the air for about an hour already, and if
the computer on the desk had been right, they would reach Singapore in
another two hours or so. Normally, the flight took less than two-and-a-half
hours, but the pilot had announced that they would be making a short detour
to avoid some erratic weather conditions.
Turning away from the window, the Japanese youth walked over to the small
fridge, taking out a can of soda. Staring at the can with slight distaste,
he remembered the numerous incidents he'd had with soda cans since his
abilities were awakened. After countless busted attempts at opening the cans
without crushing or otherwise destroying them first, the youth had finally
gained some control over his new strength - at least enough to open cans and
turn shower knobs without breaking them.
Sighing again, he gingerly opened the can, ignoring the loud fizzing. Taking
a sip, he made his way over to the large, soft couch, and sat down.
That was when the plane rocked.
*****
"All systems clear, Captain."
"All systems clear, check."
"Engines stable. Autopilot running within normal parameters."
The captain nodded, "Good thing you noticed the storm up ahead... we
would've been in for a bumpy ride, and I heard that the boss wanted to take
a nap-"
The pilot was interrupted as the plane suddenly twisted and turned,
nosediving over three hundred meters before righting itself for a moment.
Without warning, it started ascending almost vertically again. Swearing
almost in unison, the two pilots struggled with the controls, trying to
regain control of the plane.
Glancing at the monitors, the pilot felt a chill travel down his spine - all
the controls were dead, the monitors flickering wildly and spitting out
gibberish instead of the vital information required to control the aircraft.
Slapping the intercom, the co-pilot tried to contact the rest of the staff
and crew, but found himself talking to static.
There was nothing to do but wait. And pray.
*****
Bracing himself against the violent rocking, Tryten did his best to make his
way towards the front of the plane. The disturbances were emanating from
somewhere in that area; he could feel it.
It was getting stronger. It had to be him. The weather was clear, there were
no electromagnetic disturbances in the area... nothing to throw the plane
into such a fit.
Nothing natural, at least.
The youth paused, wondering...
*Am I up to it? Can I... stop it?*
He reached the door leading into Quatre Raberba Winner's personal quarters.
*Is he... too powerful?*
The plane rocked unexpectedly, throwing the boy against the other side of
the aircraft's hull. Grimacing, the boy tried to ignore the pain.
*I have to survive. I have to succeed. I can't fail... I never fail.*
Throwing himself against the door, he who called himself Tryten flew into the room as the plane
made a sudden swerve. Righting himself, his gaze took in the room.
And gasped.
Furniture lay strewn all over the room. Nothing was left untouched -
monitors were ripped out of the walls, desks were overturned. Pillows lay
ripped on the ground, feathers flying everywhere.
The only thing undisturbed in the whole room was... Quatre... floating
several inches off the bed he had doubtlessly been sleeping on. He was still
covered with the blanket he had been using.
Within such close proximity, Tryten could feel the strength emanating from
the boy. It was overpowering... dark... frightening. Though he remained calm
on the outside, somewhere deep inside, something that was Tryten...
something that was more than Tryten... screamed, unable to comprehend the
power that lay within the other boy.
He could feel it. The raw power that lay within the other was completely
overwhelming. Something was holding the power at bay now, but there was a
battle going on within the boy, he could see that. He did not want to see
what would happen should the boy lose control.
Tryten paused... wondering how he could possibly succeed.
Treading slowly, he made his way cautiously over to the blond youth floating
in the air. He had to approach this carefully... heaven only knew what would
happen to him if the boy reacted the wrong way.
Now by his side, Tryten tentatively reached a hand out to the blond youth's
sleeping form. Bracing himself, he placed first one hand on the boy, then th
e other.
He closed his eyes. Focusing. Concentrating.
He could feel the other. Quatre had fallen asleep... and fallen prey to a
nightmare. And he had reacted to it.
It was just... instinct.
He turned his attention to the nightmare that had affected Quatre so.
Slowly, seconds later, Tryten opened his eyes. The disturbances were
lessening. Slowly, but certainly.
It were lessening. The plane was righting itself again.
Tryten smiled.
They would survive.
Unaware of all around him, Quatre slept on.
*****
Realising that the turbulence had finally stopped, Heero heaved a sigh of
relief. Letting go of his deathgrip on the wall of his cabin, Heero
inspected the damage. Once the disturbance had gotten strong enough to throw
him out of his seat and into the wall opposite, Heero had lashed out, trying
to grab hold of anything to stablise himself. The wall had been as good as
any other choice, and with his new abilities, he had effortlessly dug a
hand-hold in the metal of the cabin wall, riding out the rocking and
shaking.
Perhaps this superhuman stuff did have its advantages, after all.
Eyeing the carnage of furniture and assorted other stuff lying around the
room that the turbulence had left in its wake, he guessed they wouldn't make
too much of a fuss about the small marks he'd made in the wall.
Shrugging it off, Heero Yuy made his way out of the cabin, resolved to first
check on Quatre to see if he was okay... then to go question the pilots on
what they'd been drinking.
*****
April 19th AC 195 12:15am EST (April 20th AC 195, somewhere after midnight,
Singapore time)
It was funny how time worked, or so thought Heero Yuy. Having left Los
Angeles about three hours ago in broad daylight, they had arrived halfway
across the world in the dead of night - Singapore was over fourteen hours
ahead of Los Angeles.
Heero eyed Quatre suspiciously, as they got off the plane and cleared
immigration before getting into a waiting car. The blond youth hadn't
mentioned anything about the turbulence and had emerged from his room
looking immensely refreshed(and a lot more talkative)... could he have
possibly slept through it all?
Smiling now, Quatre was talking to Heero as the car took them down the
brightly-lit main highway(they were called expressways here, Quatre noted)
leading away from the airport to the central city area.
"I don't think I'll be able to make travel arrangements for you immediately,
especially not now, since most of the agencies would be closed at this time
of night. I -would- suggest that you spend a few days here first... while
Tryten makes the necessary... arrangements for your travel."
Heero nodded, understanding - he couldn't very well return to Japan using
his current travel documents - whoever had sent him to the heart of the
Euro-American Alliance would be tipped off about his return... and no doubt
would come looking for him.
He had managed to enter Singapore on his own documents as the country wasn't
part of the Federation. As part of the treaty that ended the war between the
EA Alliance and the Asian Federation, the two governments had agreed that
one part of both their territories would be set aside as 'neutral ground' -
to act as buffer zones and central areas for commerce and trade between the
two sides. On the Euro-American side, Switzerland had been chosen as the
neutral ground - a tradition that dated back many centuries. On the Asian
side, Singapore had been chosen - simply because the country was
geographically strategic - also a tradition.
Besides, the professors had mentioned, when telling him what little could be
gleaned of his real history, that he had spent some time in a military
facility in Indonesia... Indonesia was close to Singapore; perhaps he could
find out a little about his activities there.
Eyeing the brightly-lit cityscape now coming into view, the Japanese youth
saw... for the first time in a long while... a glimmer of hope.
*****
Charles Maxwell held his breath, "Easy now... the mix must be -exact-, exact
I tell you! Slightly off... and I don't want to know what we'll end up
with!"
The assistant nodded, wiping the sweat off his brow as he tapped at the
controls.
Professor Maxwell nodded, "Do it."
The assistant hit the 'execute' command. Machinery hissed. Computers around
the room beeped, and processed.
Charles Maxwell smiled.
"Success."
The assistants were already turning to each other, making their way out of
the laboratory and clapping each other on the back as they congratulated
each other on a job well done. Maxwell watched them go. As good as they
were, he knew he had to let them go - the process had begun and could be
automated all the way until its completion. They weren't needed any more.
Charles Maxwell grimaced - he hated having to do this... but it was
necessary. These projects were too secretive and too much was at stake;
James and the others demanded it of him and he was obliged to comply.
While he waited, he turned to the nearest computer, "Activate dictation
subroutine. Send message to Veritas, Professor J, code 6098-102. Message
reads - system up and running; expected completion within one month. Message
ends. Send."
The computer beeped. Looking at his watch, he decided the assistants had
gone far enough. Reaching out to a nearby console, he pressed the button.
The screams were still audible. He grimaced again.
He hated listening to people die.
*****
TO BE CONTINUED...
Sandrock