CHAPTER TWELVE: MANDY'S FANTASGOMORIOUS IDEA
"If I didn't know you better, Setzer, I'd say you've gotten sluggish over the years," Mandy said.
"Why's that?" Setzer inquired, shuffling the stack of cards and sending them flying out before his two opponents.
"You've been in Jidoor for nearly a month, and all we've done is go to the more reputable gambling halls. It gets a tad tedious going there day after day after day. Have you so little to occupy your time that you find goggling at pieces of cardboard entertaining?"
"I wouldn't say I've gotten sluggish. I'm doing the same things I did in Vector, except the work. I have offered you two a chance to board the Blackjack and fly with me, you know, but you always refuse."
"Listen, if I have to play through one more card came or throw one more pair of dice, I swear I'm going to go ma-a-a-a-d," Mandy cried, clutching at his hair and jerking his chin at an oblique angle. "Benny, you back me on this."
"Swanky, these wrists were made for pulling ropes and hauling props," Benny said, displaying his assets. "I'm getting out of shape, and then I won't be able to move stuff anymore, and then I'll lose my job, and then I'll hunt you down and when you're least expecting it I'll mow you over with a chocobo."
"Like Draco?" Setzer asked.
"Exactly, and the connection alone will brand you as a pathetic loser for all eternity."
"Setzer," Mandy said, "live a little! I miss the old days, our pranks."
"A prank!" Setzer reclined in his chair and laughed lustily. "A prank, is it? So that's what you want. My prankish days are over, thank you very much; I need to at least have the facade of respectability. Am I the only one here who's grown up at all?"
"I suppose so," Benny grumbled, "and a lot of good it's done you."
Gathering up the cards and shuffling them into his pocket, Setzer leaned his elbow on the table, coming to terms with the mutiny on his hands. "And what, pray tell, sort of chicanery do you suggest we embark on, Mandy, eh?"
Mandy placed his chin in his hand and started pacing around the dressing room, eyebrows knitting together. "Just a minute, don't rush me. I'm thinking of something."
"Well, whenever you do come up with mischief, please do tell us," Setzer remarked airily. Benny sniggered.
"Shut up, both of you. Hmmmm--Setzer, what do you think of Maria?"
"Which Maria? I've known lots of Marias. Do you mean Maria Engles, who was really good at chemistry in school? Or perhaps Maria Heis, who was famous for being able to bend her legs over her shoulders? Maybe--"
"You know bloody well which Maria. My co-worker, Benny's arch-nemesis."
"What are you implying, my dear man?" Setzer demanded; if either of them knew, then he would sink beneath the earth in abject embarrassment, which was infinitely preferable to being mocked for the rest of his wretched life.
"Ah, don't be coy," Mandy said. "I've seen the way you regard her. I know about the flowers, and the chocolates, and the notes--"
"You never miss a single of her performances. Every night she's been on, I've seen you in the boxes," Benny added.
Setzer had dealt with being the butt of the most scurrilous gossips and vicious articles with tolerance, sometimes even cheerfulness, at people's delightful boorishness, yet the baiting of his friends caused a heat to rise up his neck into his cheeks. "She's merely an infatuation of mine."
"Strange infatuation," Mandy purred, sensing his friend's discomfort and preparing for the pounce. For in all truth, Setzer indeed had an interest in the opera singer Maria. She was gorgeous, had a lovely voice, her conversation was witty, and she treated him with great warmth and courtesy since the moment he presented her a bouquet of flowers after one fine concert. They enjoyed each other's company, stole a kiss or two over moonlit dinners, and liked watching and being watched. He did not think it a blow to Daryl's memory--as if he'd ever forget her, the darling!
"Yes, yes," Mandy continued, circling round the table, his dark eyes never turning from the scarred face, "I think...AHA! I've just come up with the most fantasgomorious idea!"
"Spill it," Benny commanded eagerly; Setzer considered running out the door, but he was enthralled by whatever sick scheme was being hatched. He could not get away.
"It involves our two young lovebirds," Mandy said, not without little relish. "Setzer, you'll write a letter to Maria saying that you want to marry her, and that you'll come and snatch her away at the climax of her performance--"
"WHAT!"
"You heard me. You're going to kidnap Maria! Right off the stage!"
"Have you gone totally mad? I'm not going to marry her," Setzer shouted.
"Did I say you would? I wouldn't thrust such a yoke on you, my dear friend. You'll take her up to that fancy airship of yours and hold her up there for a day. Then you'll return her, right as rain."
"Is there any particular reason why you chose this particular plan, Mandy?" Setzer asked dangerously; Benny and the addressed smiled impudence at him.
"Oh, I just want to let you have an adventure, that's all. Also, I don't like Maria. And the Impresario's going to bust his liver over this, and he hasn't been giving me pay equal to that of my fellow troupers when he specifically said he would. Revenge!"
"Revenge!" echoed Benny, thrusting his fist into the air.
"Why are you opposed, Setzer?" Mandy triumphed.
"Because I don't think Maria would take kindly to being abducted, that's why," Setzer answered stiffly.
"You are so ignorant of the feminine sex," Benny scoffed. "They love this kind of thing. It's make them feel pretty and important and loved. Why do you think that pirates always have chicks hanging around them?"
"True!" said the actor to his friends. "It's a great plan. Maria gets her ego built up, Setzer has a grand adventure, both of them get some, the Impresario learns to appreciate his workers (me), and Benny and I laugh so hard that we collapse in puddles of our own drool. Winners all around!"
Seeing as he couldn't resist such logic, Setzer agreed to the plan, much to the ecstasy of the rest in the room. Mandy sat down again and scrounged for a piece of paper and pencil.
"All right," he said, "in two nights we're going to have a great gala performance of our favorite, the Dragon and Star, before we move on to another production. We'll let the audience hear the Mezzo Aria, gods know they deserve it, but when Draco and Ralse are fighting, just as Draco is about to disarm Ralse before the smoke bomb is thrown, you'll swoop down and seize your lady love."
"What about you?" Setzer asked.
"Oh, I'll be watching the fun. I wouldn't miss this for the world. I'll feign a fever. Thank heaven for understudies! Useful, talented, and you can flush 'em down the john when you're through with 'em. But anyway, Benny and I'll be here to help you get down onto the stage. There are some trapdoors above the back of the stage, overlooking the rafters. We'll have a rope you can swing down through on. Benny has practically free reign backstage so it should be no trouble to get you there. And after you've swept her off her feet, there's a back entrance which we'll show you that you can exit out of. Your fancy airship will be there for the getaway.
"And," Mandy finished, "to give everything more spice, you can write a letter to Maria about your intentions. You know, shake things up a bit. It'll be romantic."
"And the Impresario will just die," Benny chimed in.
"We're all incorrigible," Setzer laughed. "What'll I write to her?"
"Oh, that's your forte, not ours," Mandy said, ignoring Benny's eagerly helpful face. "But that's all you need to do. We'll start on getting and measuring rope right now while you think of something. Leave the rest to us."
Benny jigged towards the door, darting a wicked expression. "Let's squeeze a blush out of that strumpet's metal mug."
*************
The three of them threw themselves into their audacious undertaking with great gusto; Setzer, after everyone else but his fellow conspirators had left the Opera House, practiced sliding down the rope onto the stage until his palms were all red and throbbing. Benny and Mandy worked on figuring the fastest escape route and tested the trapdoors for bad or squeaky hinges. All were undetected to a man.
Meanwhile, the whole opera company was thrown into an uproar. Setzer had completed his letter and placed it in Maria's dressing room, along with a spray of violets as a romantic touch, which read simply:
Dear Maria,
Your beauty surpasses even the stars with its radiance, and your voice would bring Siren to shame. Of all females, you are the queen of them all, the paragon of all charming virtues. Yet you suffer the unwanted attentions of uxorious, measly-minded men day after day, letting them praise you even as they mar you with their strenuous company. This, my dear, I cannot allow.
I, a gambler with no devotion to any man, want you as my wife. I cannot bear to be away from your company any longer. I am coming for you.
The Wandering Gambler
While Mandy and Benny basked in the glorious tumult and watched the Impresario screech and run around in circles, feeling very satisfied with themselves, Setzer made himself scarce. He stayed at his parents' home and helped his mother in the garden and chewed the fat with his father. He burned to tell Ponzo about the scheme, for the father was bound to appreciate it, but he took no risks of having Benedick or his mother finding out. They would have certainly given him hell about it; disruption of the arts was frowned upon in Jidoor.
*************
Maria, always a stunning creature, looked absolutely ravishing on the final night of the Dragon's performance. Her hair gleamed bright gold, broken only in the middle by a part of purest ivory; her shoulders rippled gracefully under her sleeves; she wore the same costume dress, but even then it seemed molded to her shape, baring a good line of cleavage. Looking down at her through a trapdoor, she seemed a perfect, ethereal angel.
He turned from the opening and stole his way down to Mandy's dressing room, where his two accomplices awaited him. Mandy's roommate, a notorious hypochondriac, was nowhere to be seen, obviously dreading that some fatal disease infected the dressing room.
"How's the outlook?" Benny asked blithely.
"Smooth as the Emperor caught in an oil slick," Setzer replied. "She's nearly finished with her solo."
"She sounds kind of strained to me," Benny said. "You think she's got a cold?"
"If she does, Setzer better watch his conduct. To action, fellows!" Mandy cried, and they gathered around the designated trapdoor, squatting on their haunches. A waltz proceeded on below.
"The dance sequence's about over," Mandy said. "Let's take a peek to make sure everything's clear." He submerged his head into the opening, and he peered down for a disconcertingly long time. He finally lifted up his face, his expression that of carefully cultivated calmness.
"There," he announced, blasé, "is an octopus in the rafters."
"Mandy," said Setzer, "I think I'm going deaf. I thought you said there was an octopus in the rafters."
"Look for yourself," Mandy countered, extending a palm towards the trapdoor. Setzer leaned over and did as bidden.
Yes. It was insane, monstrous, downright ludicrous, but there, perched on a rafter, indeed was an octopus, a huge purple mollusk sporting an asinine grin jagged with rows of yellowing teeth; beside it stood a great iron weight, which was presently positioned precariously over Maria's head.
"Benny, I think it's trying to top you," Mandy said from far away; Setzer sank backwards and pressed a hand against his forehead.
"No, no, no," he murmured. Everything was ruined, Maria was in great peril, and, frankly, one does not witness a gargantuan octopus plotting murder from a theater rafter every day.
Benny took his turn in peeping down through the trapdoor. "Three men are also in the rafters," he narrated slowly, "and I think they're approaching the octopus. Yes, they are! Now they're getting into a tussle--oh, gods! They've all fallen--"
WHUMP!
"Marvelous! Now there's an octopus on the stage," Setzer murmured over the cries and jangled music. It was truly a dark day for those of the acting and kidnapping profession everywhere.
"And it looks like they've flattened Draco and Ralse!" Benny informed; Mandy cheered. "Now the Impresario's coming on the stage--he's likely to keel over any minute, he's green in the face--and he's shouting something. One of the men is getting up. Yep, now we've got some guy in leather pants and a bandanna addressing the audience. Boy, his acting stinks. Now the octopus is saying something...the other men have gotten up...and now they're fighting! Holy shit, a frickin' octopus is fighting three frickin' men right smack in the middle of the frickin' opera!"
"Let me see," Mandy demanded, shoving Benny's head up and away. After a few seconds of observation, the dark-haired lad straightened up and beckoned to Setzer. "Come on, watch! You have got to see this."
"I don't want to," Setzer groaned. Titters began to convulse his companions, and then they were lying on their backs, grins etched on their faces, unmoving save for the shaking of their chests, saliva trickling from their mouths down their cheeks. Paralyzed with laughter.
Benny recovered the quickest, and he surveyed the action below. "It's not that bad, Setzer," said he. "In fact, I think we can still go through with it. The octopus is getting its butt, if it has one, but I speak figuratively, whipped. It won't be long 'till it's over, and then you can swoop before anything else happens."
"Are you sure?" Setzer asked.
"Sure I'm sure. Ah, ah, the octopus is running away! Now's your chance, Setzer, seize the day!"
Setzer's legs were rooted to where he sat, unmoving, and he needed Mandy to push the rope into his hands and give him a swift push on the back to snap him into motion.
"Bravissima!" Setzer shouted, grappling the rope between his hands. "What a performance!" He slid down with one smooth swing of his hips, and he landed next to Maria, the lights a single glare in his eyes.
"Setzer!" the Impresario bellowed. "Damn you!"
A youthful rush of giddy impertinence swelled in the gambler's heart, and, smiling, he laughed, "I'm a man of my word, music man!" He took Maria, who was crying "That's HIM?!" by her slender wrist and gave a hard yank, twirling her about in the light and heat; she staggered to her knees and he wrapped an arm about her waist, disappearing with his prize into the back corridors towards the door. The crowd gave a gasp, the hissing of the sea shore.
High above, Mandy and Benny simultaneously looked down at the stage, wrecked, sets demolished, people fainting all over, the two main actors battered and unconscious, then at each other, perfectly mute. Finally, the former found his voice.
"They'll never show this opera again, not in a million years!"
As time proved, this affirmation turned out to be wrong. The Romance of the Dragon and the Star retained its popularity for many years. So popular, in fact, that it became tradition for the audience to throw stuffed octopuses--sold at the front desk--onto the stage. It was a beautiful spectacle and nobody ever missed it.
*************
"Pardon me, madam," Setzer said, leading his damsel into a small parlor with a glass pane in the floor (so passengers could admire the land below during flight), "but I have a few things to tend to. I'll be right back." He winked at her. She didn't smile back. Locking the door, he ran for the upper deck, only stopping to laugh at Benedick, who tried to stop him, roaring, "What sort of deviltry is this?!"; he steered the Blackjack up to a secure distance and let her hover softly in mid-air as he returned to the parlor.
Human physiology was not Setzer's strong suit, but he was fairly certain that people did not produce asexually, splitting apart like amoebas, yet when he opened the parlor door, he found that Maria had somehow split herself again and again to have three strange men in the room with her. Two of the men were blonde, the other sporting light brown hair held in check with a blue bandanna. The tallest and largest one, a hulking fellow, wore simple clothes under which powerful muscles rippled as he moved. The smallest, the bandanna-wearing man, looked even shabbier. The middle one wore his hair carefully pulled back with blue silk ribbons, and an equally blue cape draped over his broad shoulders. Maria herself had suddenly changed from her gown to close-fitting black and yellow armor, leather laces running down the sides of her legs and arms.
"Well," Setzer said to the lady, "you definitely aren't Maria."
"Setzer Gabbiani," she responded, voice cool, "we need your help. We need to take the airship to Vector."
"Vector! I'll never go back there. And besides, lady, you aren't Maria, so I don't want you on board," Setzer eyed the glass pane, and detected that the screws bolting it down had been taken off and then haphazardly replaced. A famous man couldn't play a good joke without people spoiling everything and begging alms nowadays, it seemed. He reached for the doorknob.
"Wait a minute!" the feminine voice cut across the room with such authority that Setzer was taken aback. "We heard that this Blackjack was the finest vessel in all the world--"
"And that you are the world's most notorious gambler," finished the brunette man.
"I am the King of Figaro," said the middle gentleman. "Cooperate with us, and you will be well rewarded."
"Really, Your Highness?" Setzer addressed the king, whom he now knew as Edgar Figaro. "I think your bargaining position is highly dubious."
"Mine might be, but my brother's isn't." Edgar indicated the third man. "Sabin here's a master of martial arts, and, if need be, he can handle any servants or bodyguards you throw our way. We must get to Vector."
One immaculately manicured finger curled towards the pseudo-Maria. "Come here," Setzer said. She strode forward, and he began to circle around her deliberately. His eyes ran over her fine skin, complete without blemishes of any kind: no moles, no patches of dry skin, no superfluous hair. General Celes Chere, in the flesh.
"Will you help us?" she asked, growing rigid under his scrutiny. He shook back some stray locks of hair from his face and said, "Don't second guess me, General Chere. I might or I might not. I am a bit ambivalent about carting a woman who burned an entire town right off to Vector just like that. I have a Marandan friend who would love to meet you."
She looked away. The slender man stepped closer to her. "You'd better make up your mind fast," he said, "Doma's already fallen to the Empire. More cities will fall unless we act soon."
"Doma, fallen?" Setzer repeated.
"Kefka poisoned everyone," Sabin said gravely. "I was there."
Breathing became arduous. Doma--all dead! Setzer tried to think on it, of all the dead people, but no vision or feeling came.
A great cry suddenly came from above, a wild wail that sent every silver hair on end.
Edgar said something, and all started at the clamor. Setzer broke through the door into a run. Only one person, he knew, would have the sheer unfeeling nerve to tell such news. "Ratchet," Setzer spat to himself, "I'll have you, I swear to the gods I'll have you!"
He rushed into the main casino of the airship. Benedick was clawing at his temples, doubled over and keening: "My country! My castle! My liege! My friends!"
"Filthy bastard, you told!" Setzer shouted. Ratchet faced him, gray face glazed with his insufferable apathy.
"I think that when one's country is destroyed, one must be aware of the fact, don't you think, sir? This way is actually kinder in the long run."
"I'll thank you to stay out of my affairs! Look at him! Don't you have any sense of pity?"
"With the shrapnel in my head?"
Setzer saw his hand seem to move of its own will; it reached forward and struck Ratchet hard across the face, the impact ringing like a gunshot. He hoped it rattled the cursed shrapnel and give Ratchet agony for days. "Get out! Stay away from him!"
Ratchet smartly exited, an almost wry look in his eyes. Setzer bent down on his knees and put his arms around Benedick, swaying along with the old man, who was no longer shouting but whispering to himself. When the peak of the anguish had subsided, Setzer lifted Benedick into his arms, and the poor body was light and limp in his arms. He carried the servant to the nearest bedroom, laying him beneath the sheets, whispering gentle and soft words as he tucked the linen underneath the beard.
Benedick moaned softly, tears splashing his wrinkled cheeks, and slowly his chest began to heave up and down more gently, falling into a fitful sleep characteristic of the aged. Setzer touched one claw-like hand and covered it with his own and left it there for a very long time.
"Shouldn't we let Ratchet see to him?" one of the flight crew, unexpectedly appearing behind his shoulder, inquired. Setzer shook his head savagely.
"I'd rather give him poison. Keep Ratchet away. I'll take care of him now."
"Yes, sir."
He rose from the bedside, directing, "I'm going to deal with our guests. Watch here for a little bit."
In the casino deck, off to the side, was a solar window, a delightful place to sit in winter and soak up the warm sunshine. A small dicing table basked in the sunlight, the area empty otherwise. Setzer stood in front of this window and stared through the panes, watching the thin clouds cascade and curl by like the smoke from a snuffed candle wick. He heard the rustle of clothing as the four stowaways joined him.
"Why won't you help after what's happened?" Celes's voice spoke to him.
"The Empire has made me a rich man. All I am, I owe to it. I have businesses there."
"Stop thinking about yourself," she admonished. "Countless towns and cities have been smashed by the Empire, and here you talk about business! As if you need more money!"
"Can't you see that the Empire's totally rotten?" said the bandanna-sporting man. "It's reviving magic, and it won't stop until it's in control of every country in the world."
"The Empire and my kingdom used to be allies until they captured one of my main towns and tried to burn my castle," King Edgar put in tersely, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
"You think you can fly up in your little airship and be safe," said Sabin gently, his amiable face serenely sad. "You won't be able to keep it up forever. The Empire'll end up owning you."
"I'm sorry, losing my head is too high a price to pay for your gratitude," Setzer forced a laugh from his lips. "Especially when I'm dealing with a person of General Celes's character. She might burn my airship. I don't believe in magic anyway."
Chill settled in his bones. He felt an icy glare piercing into his back. "I've got a story to tell you," Celes said. "Once there was a woman who was raised to serve the government alone. They took her when she was a baby and artificially infused her with magic." The sound of glass cracking came to Setzer's ears; he turned and saw a fine dusting of ice shards cover the elegant tips of Celes's fingers, a blue aura spreading into the air. "They taught her to fight and kill people without feeling a thing. They told her that she needed to destroy anything that wasn't of the Empire. Then they made her burn down an entire city and kill its royal family. She pretended not to care; she was following orders. But then she learned that Kefka was going to poison the people of Doma instead of carrying on the siege there. She realized she had been in the service of filthy cowards all of her life, and she wouldn't fight any longer. She go thrown in jail, common traitor she was, and beaten. She wanted to die. On the day before her execution, she was saved by the Returners, even though she burned their towns and killed their warriors. She can never bring back what she killed, but she's at least trying to follow a better course, and her neck's in more danger than yours." She clenched her hand and the ice shards dissolved into droplets.
Setzer looked out the window again. He remembered Livius, how he used to smile so encouragingly; he remembered Lorenzo, scrounging for food in the streets, eyes burning with rage and love; he thought of Benedick in his bed; and he remembered Daryl, the flash of her hair, her smile, how she would tease and laugh and comfort him. It was worth risking his head for them.
However, he was still very sore about having his fun ruined. A wily smile spread on his face. He was not going to make it easy for them.
"You know," he said at length, "you're even more stunning than Maria." He came very close to her and extended an arm. "Don't touch me!" Celes cried. Setzer found the reaction to be incredibly uncharacteristic of her sex, but he had the notion that he was dealing with an extraordinary woman. Nevertheless, he knew she would not harm him. His hands brushed hers and opened her fingers, revealing palms devoid of any fortune-teller lines. He looked at them for a pace before releasing her hands.
"Enough of this!" he said. "If you, Celes, agree to marry me, I'll take you to Vector. If not, you're up a creek."
"WHAT?" shouted the brown-haired man, growing considerably red in the face. "Are you stupid?"
One silver eyebrow curved upwards. Aha! Setzer mused. "Why all the fuss, my good--what the devil is your name, anyway?"
"Locke," came the reply. Now that wasn't a name you got from any sane parent if Setzer ever heard one.
Celes bowed her head in contemplation. "We haven't any choice," she resigned.
"Ha," Setzer crowed, "it's settled, then." He actually had no intention of making any engagement of the sort, but it was simply so much fun to watch them all squirm. He wagered Locke was going to have a stroke any second.
"But I have certain conditions." Celes broke in and raised her hand, letting it hover over Locke's forearm. "We'll settle this with a coin toss. Tails, you win, and I'll go with you. Heads, I win, and you'll do as I say. What do you think?"
What a woman! "Oho, I accept!"
"Listen to you!" Locke whispered to her. "You can't become his wife, Celes!"
"And why not?" Setzer posed. "What do you care? Jealousy doesn't become you."
"She just can't, that's why!"
Rifling through her uniform, Celes frowned. "I haven't got a coin on me. Edgar, do you have something we can use?"
The king obliged her with a glinting gold coin; she took it and placed it on the side of her index finger, thumb underneath. "Ready? Here it goes," she called, and flipped it into the air in a graceful arc. The coin spun and twirled in the air throughout its jump and landed on the ground. The profile of Sabin winked in the light..
"I win," Celes, smiling a little, said. "Now honor your part of the bargain."
Bending over, Setzer took the coin in between his right thumb and observed it--on the opposite side was the metal stamp of King Edgar's portrait.
"How unusual," he pondered aloud. "A coin with two heads. Well, well, well."
"I'd say you got hustled, Mr. Gambler. Never get into a naval battle with Nikeah, and never gamble with a woman when her freedom is on the line."
Setzer began to laugh, at himself, at her, at everyone in the airship, at the wonderfully ridiculous world in general. "I can't believe this! How low can us Imperials stoop? I love it! All right, I'll take you to Vector. Nothing to lose but my life." He tossed the coin at her feet and swept her a bow; he admired her something awful.
"My life, honeybunch, is in your pile. Ante up!"