Chapter Four
Down seemingly endless corridors of flickering lights, Quatre felt almost as if he had sprouted wings and was starting to fly. He needed to get away, though he couldn't remember quite why, but he knew that it was desperately important.
"Keep...me...isolated," he said.
"Okay, Quatre. Fine, whatever you say, old buddy. Just don't go out on me."
It was Duo's voice. What was Duo doing here?
"It's contagious," Quatre said, feeling his heart speed up with fear.
"What is?"
But Quatre was too far-gone to hear, much less answer him. As the rotation of the colony seemed to speed up beyond all comprehension, he tried to focus. The room around him was far too bright, and then it was dark and cold. People were speaking, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. High pitched beeps and flashing lights flew about his head. He clawed the air, and someone pushed a needle into his arm. The universe swallowed him up, and he fell between the stars.
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The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a long golden braid. Everything else was still white and painfully dazzling. "Duo," he realized suddenly. "Get away, I have to be kept isolated. Back away!"
A woman's laugh brought the world into sharp focus. "Good morning little brother. Clearly, you kept your priorities in good order, even while asleep."
"Sarah," he recognized her.
"Good. Your memory is intact. How are you feeling?"
He thought about it for a second. "Lousy. How long have I been out?" He tried to sit up, and changed his mind when his vision flashed black.
"Two and a half weeks. We thought we were going to lose you once or twice."
He could feel his head clearing slightly, and with the clarity came questions. "Where is Duo? And what are you doing here?"
"At the moment, I'm saving your life."
Quatre was awake enough to notice that she hadn't answered his first question, but he could still feel the fog of sleep covering his brain. "Don't evade, Sarah. I'm too tired to deal with it."
She smiled. "Yes, you are the same sweet little brother I remember. I came to L2 with the antidote for the plague."
"After infecting me with it."
"Yes."
"And you don't even try to deny it! Has the near presence of death softened you so much, Sarah?" Quatre was startled at the bitterness in his own voice. He really must be doing badly.
She smiled. "At this point I really ought to lie to you, and tell you that yes, I came to my senses when I saw my poor baby brother so ill, and knowing that it was all my fault infused me with such guilt...But if I said anything of the sort, it would be a lie. I changed my mind about letting you die, because I think you'll do me more good if you're alive."
Quatre turned his face away with painful slowness. "Although I dislike your logic, I'm happy with the conclusion. Now go away and let me sleep." The brief moment of comprehension had faded, and he felt fuzzy and tired.
"That would probably be best for you, but I can't do that."
He looked at her warily. There was a needle in her hand. "Sarah..."
She didn't let him finish. The needle slipped easily under the nearly translucent skin, and sent a burning sensation all up his arm.
"I'm getting really tired of you doing that. Last time, I nearly died. What happens this time?" The room seemed to be wobbling slightly.
"It will wake you up."
The pain increased in his arm and began to spread slightly. He took a deep breath, and held it, slowly counting to ten, then fifteen, then twenty, as the pain refused to fade.
He heard Sarah stand up, and heard her voice calling something about "keep him under heavy surveillance!" He shut his eyes as tightly as he could, and watched the uncertainly colored suns that burst upon his eyelids.
"Quatre, focus on my voice," Sarah was saying.
"Go away!" he said, or at least tried to say that. All that came out was a somewhat smothered mumble.
"Listen to me, Quatre. You have to cooperate, or Duo might be killed."
Duo? He didn't even know where Duo was. She was almost certainly lying. Almost...but could he take that chance?
She seemed to follow his thought processes. "Just think about Duo." Her voice was soothing, though she seemed almost nervous. "Imagine his face, Quatre. Say hello to him."
What was her game? An image of Duo came into his mind abruptly. His head was bowed, and there were traces of tears on his cheeks.
"Hello," Quatre imagined his own voice speaking to the vision.
The image screamed aloud, startling Quatre. He hadn't imagined that. He wasn't controlling this vision.
Quatre choked aloud and the image vanished from his mind. The pain was beginning to fade slightly and he sat up in the hospital bed, feeling sick and worried, and too upset to notice that some of his strength had returned. Sarah's face was aglow, and her eyes were shining with triumph.
"I knew it!" she cried.
"What are you talking about? What did you know? What happened!" he demanded.
"You! I knew about you! You are a new-type!"
"Stop," he interrupted. Too much information coming too fast. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. "Go over this from the beginning. What is a new-type? What makes me one? And what exactly happened?"
But she was too drunk on her success to really listen to him. "You're a new-type! What else is there to say?" She slowed down and turned to him, explaining further. "You have abilities far beyond those of normal human beings. You're like some sort of living, breathing radio! Of course, those powers only work when you're terribly upset, so I had to induce pain in order to make it work, but it did, Quatre, it was a success!"
"But what happened? Where's Duo!"
"He's right across the hall. He's fine now, but when you made contact, he felt all of the pain you were feeling."
"Made contact? You mean he heard me?"
She nodded eagerly. "That's how we knew. Quatre, do you have any idea what we could do with these powers?"
"I don't want to know what you want to do with these powers." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "But I can guess. I want to talk to Duo. I don't want to talk to you." He raised himself up on one elbow, and began the painful process of sliding his legs towards the edge of the bed. "You said he was just across the hall?"
"Quatre, don't push yourself too hard. Be careful."
"You be careful. You almost sound as if you're actually concerned about me."
"I am. Terribly concerned."
"Oh that's right. You might get in trouble if your latest experiment dies on you." At long last his feet touched the floor, and he unsteadily rose up on them, glad that they could hold his weight. Two and half weeks was a long time to be on one's back.
"Quatre, stop. I'll get your friend." She left the room.
He sat down again, annoyed at his own physical weaknesses. But obviously he had made progress. Was it the result of the shot she had given him, or was he simply recovering from all the drugs that had been pumped into his system over the last few weeks?
Duo bounded into the room. "Q-ball! You're awake!" He grinned. "You scared me to death, and back again! Don't you ever, ever do that again!"
Quatre found himself smiling in spite of himself. "I'll try not to," he assured his friend. Then his worries resurfaced. "Did they keep me in isolation? I was so afraid that it might spread."
Duo's eyes darkened briefly and an expression of pain flitted across his face, but it was replaced almost instantly by a comforting smile. "Your sister got here on the third day with the vaccine, and gave everybody a shot."
Quatre hadn't missed Duo's reaction to his question. "But before the third day?" he asked, dreading the answer.
Duo's eyes dropped. "Well, I got it, but I survived long enough to get the antidote too. Only one person actually died, Cat. Everyone else hung on long enough for your sister to cure them. Do you know that they're calling it the plague? You'd think they'd at least come up with a new name or something."
Quatre refused to follow the new topic of conversation. "You knew them...the person that died, I mean?"
"Yeah, yeah I knew her. She was a friend of mine actually."
"Oh Duo." He started to form the words, 'I'm sorry,' but stopped. 'Sorry' would never be enough. 'Sorry' wouldn't bring Duo's friend back. 'Sorry' was one of the most worthless words ever invented.
"It's not your fault," Duo whispered, obviously sensing the unspoken words. "You didn't know, and anyway, it's OZ's stupid disease."
Quatre frowned and picked at the corner of the bed. "There have been far too many things that I've done that have hurt people, and yet haven't been 'my fault.' That has to change." His eyes darkened. "Duo, we have to get out of here. Maybe if we-"
But Duo was shaking his head violently. "I don't know. You're in pretty bad shape Quatre. Maybe we should stick around, for the medical care if nothing else." He drummed his fingers lightly on the bedrail.
Quatre frowned. He ought to be feeling better in a few days. It was a strange objection to make. "I don't need intensive care. All I need is a few days of rest. I can find that somewhere else. I just want-"
"I think you might be overestimating yourself. Maybe we should talk to your sister. She's a doctor." Duo continued drumming his fingers.
Now that was an even stranger thing to say. Duo knew that Sarah was the one who had infected him with the plague in the first place, and of course she wouldn't be eager to help him escape. He was about to ask Duo what he was talking about, when he noticed that the rhythm of the other pilot's drumming fingers had changed. It wasn't a random series of beats. He began to listen, and realized that it was Breese, a more recent tapping code, very similar to Morse, but with a few differences.
"Maybe. I don't know. Just let me think for a minute." Quatre closed his eyes and listened to the taps. Short, short, longer, very long, short, quite short, and on and on. It took him a minute to remember the code; he hadn't had much opportunity to learn or use it, but he remembered enough. He opened his eyes again and nodded.
Duo studied his face for a minute, then began tapping the bedrail again.
-C- -A- -N-, he paused for a moment, -Y- -O- -U-, he stopped again, then continued -U- -N- -D- -E- -R- -S- -T- -A- -N- -D-. Duo looked up, the question in his eyes.
Quatre smiled. "I understand," he said with slight emphasis, "that you're worried about my condition, but you needn't be. I know myself pretty well. I'm on the mend. I want to get out of here soon." He tapped his fingers against the edge of the bedrail.
-T- -O- -N- -I- -G- -H- -T-. He looked up. Duo nodded. They would try to leave that night, and pray that no one who was listening in had been able to understand the Breese.
Down seemingly endless corridors of flickering lights, Quatre felt almost as if he had sprouted wings and was starting to fly. He needed to get away, though he couldn't remember quite why, but he knew that it was desperately important.
"Keep...me...isolated," he said.
"Okay, Quatre. Fine, whatever you say, old buddy. Just don't go out on me."
It was Duo's voice. What was Duo doing here?
"It's contagious," Quatre said, feeling his heart speed up with fear.
"What is?"
But Quatre was too far-gone to hear, much less answer him. As the rotation of the colony seemed to speed up beyond all comprehension, he tried to focus. The room around him was far too bright, and then it was dark and cold. People were speaking, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. High pitched beeps and flashing lights flew about his head. He clawed the air, and someone pushed a needle into his arm. The universe swallowed him up, and he fell between the stars.
------------------------------------------------
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a long golden braid. Everything else was still white and painfully dazzling. "Duo," he realized suddenly. "Get away, I have to be kept isolated. Back away!"
A woman's laugh brought the world into sharp focus. "Good morning little brother. Clearly, you kept your priorities in good order, even while asleep."
"Sarah," he recognized her.
"Good. Your memory is intact. How are you feeling?"
He thought about it for a second. "Lousy. How long have I been out?" He tried to sit up, and changed his mind when his vision flashed black.
"Two and a half weeks. We thought we were going to lose you once or twice."
He could feel his head clearing slightly, and with the clarity came questions. "Where is Duo? And what are you doing here?"
"At the moment, I'm saving your life."
Quatre was awake enough to notice that she hadn't answered his first question, but he could still feel the fog of sleep covering his brain. "Don't evade, Sarah. I'm too tired to deal with it."
She smiled. "Yes, you are the same sweet little brother I remember. I came to L2 with the antidote for the plague."
"After infecting me with it."
"Yes."
"And you don't even try to deny it! Has the near presence of death softened you so much, Sarah?" Quatre was startled at the bitterness in his own voice. He really must be doing badly.
She smiled. "At this point I really ought to lie to you, and tell you that yes, I came to my senses when I saw my poor baby brother so ill, and knowing that it was all my fault infused me with such guilt...But if I said anything of the sort, it would be a lie. I changed my mind about letting you die, because I think you'll do me more good if you're alive."
Quatre turned his face away with painful slowness. "Although I dislike your logic, I'm happy with the conclusion. Now go away and let me sleep." The brief moment of comprehension had faded, and he felt fuzzy and tired.
"That would probably be best for you, but I can't do that."
He looked at her warily. There was a needle in her hand. "Sarah..."
She didn't let him finish. The needle slipped easily under the nearly translucent skin, and sent a burning sensation all up his arm.
"I'm getting really tired of you doing that. Last time, I nearly died. What happens this time?" The room seemed to be wobbling slightly.
"It will wake you up."
The pain increased in his arm and began to spread slightly. He took a deep breath, and held it, slowly counting to ten, then fifteen, then twenty, as the pain refused to fade.
He heard Sarah stand up, and heard her voice calling something about "keep him under heavy surveillance!" He shut his eyes as tightly as he could, and watched the uncertainly colored suns that burst upon his eyelids.
"Quatre, focus on my voice," Sarah was saying.
"Go away!" he said, or at least tried to say that. All that came out was a somewhat smothered mumble.
"Listen to me, Quatre. You have to cooperate, or Duo might be killed."
Duo? He didn't even know where Duo was. She was almost certainly lying. Almost...but could he take that chance?
She seemed to follow his thought processes. "Just think about Duo." Her voice was soothing, though she seemed almost nervous. "Imagine his face, Quatre. Say hello to him."
What was her game? An image of Duo came into his mind abruptly. His head was bowed, and there were traces of tears on his cheeks.
"Hello," Quatre imagined his own voice speaking to the vision.
The image screamed aloud, startling Quatre. He hadn't imagined that. He wasn't controlling this vision.
Quatre choked aloud and the image vanished from his mind. The pain was beginning to fade slightly and he sat up in the hospital bed, feeling sick and worried, and too upset to notice that some of his strength had returned. Sarah's face was aglow, and her eyes were shining with triumph.
"I knew it!" she cried.
"What are you talking about? What did you know? What happened!" he demanded.
"You! I knew about you! You are a new-type!"
"Stop," he interrupted. Too much information coming too fast. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. "Go over this from the beginning. What is a new-type? What makes me one? And what exactly happened?"
But she was too drunk on her success to really listen to him. "You're a new-type! What else is there to say?" She slowed down and turned to him, explaining further. "You have abilities far beyond those of normal human beings. You're like some sort of living, breathing radio! Of course, those powers only work when you're terribly upset, so I had to induce pain in order to make it work, but it did, Quatre, it was a success!"
"But what happened? Where's Duo!"
"He's right across the hall. He's fine now, but when you made contact, he felt all of the pain you were feeling."
"Made contact? You mean he heard me?"
She nodded eagerly. "That's how we knew. Quatre, do you have any idea what we could do with these powers?"
"I don't want to know what you want to do with these powers." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "But I can guess. I want to talk to Duo. I don't want to talk to you." He raised himself up on one elbow, and began the painful process of sliding his legs towards the edge of the bed. "You said he was just across the hall?"
"Quatre, don't push yourself too hard. Be careful."
"You be careful. You almost sound as if you're actually concerned about me."
"I am. Terribly concerned."
"Oh that's right. You might get in trouble if your latest experiment dies on you." At long last his feet touched the floor, and he unsteadily rose up on them, glad that they could hold his weight. Two and half weeks was a long time to be on one's back.
"Quatre, stop. I'll get your friend." She left the room.
He sat down again, annoyed at his own physical weaknesses. But obviously he had made progress. Was it the result of the shot she had given him, or was he simply recovering from all the drugs that had been pumped into his system over the last few weeks?
Duo bounded into the room. "Q-ball! You're awake!" He grinned. "You scared me to death, and back again! Don't you ever, ever do that again!"
Quatre found himself smiling in spite of himself. "I'll try not to," he assured his friend. Then his worries resurfaced. "Did they keep me in isolation? I was so afraid that it might spread."
Duo's eyes darkened briefly and an expression of pain flitted across his face, but it was replaced almost instantly by a comforting smile. "Your sister got here on the third day with the vaccine, and gave everybody a shot."
Quatre hadn't missed Duo's reaction to his question. "But before the third day?" he asked, dreading the answer.
Duo's eyes dropped. "Well, I got it, but I survived long enough to get the antidote too. Only one person actually died, Cat. Everyone else hung on long enough for your sister to cure them. Do you know that they're calling it the plague? You'd think they'd at least come up with a new name or something."
Quatre refused to follow the new topic of conversation. "You knew them...the person that died, I mean?"
"Yeah, yeah I knew her. She was a friend of mine actually."
"Oh Duo." He started to form the words, 'I'm sorry,' but stopped. 'Sorry' would never be enough. 'Sorry' wouldn't bring Duo's friend back. 'Sorry' was one of the most worthless words ever invented.
"It's not your fault," Duo whispered, obviously sensing the unspoken words. "You didn't know, and anyway, it's OZ's stupid disease."
Quatre frowned and picked at the corner of the bed. "There have been far too many things that I've done that have hurt people, and yet haven't been 'my fault.' That has to change." His eyes darkened. "Duo, we have to get out of here. Maybe if we-"
But Duo was shaking his head violently. "I don't know. You're in pretty bad shape Quatre. Maybe we should stick around, for the medical care if nothing else." He drummed his fingers lightly on the bedrail.
Quatre frowned. He ought to be feeling better in a few days. It was a strange objection to make. "I don't need intensive care. All I need is a few days of rest. I can find that somewhere else. I just want-"
"I think you might be overestimating yourself. Maybe we should talk to your sister. She's a doctor." Duo continued drumming his fingers.
Now that was an even stranger thing to say. Duo knew that Sarah was the one who had infected him with the plague in the first place, and of course she wouldn't be eager to help him escape. He was about to ask Duo what he was talking about, when he noticed that the rhythm of the other pilot's drumming fingers had changed. It wasn't a random series of beats. He began to listen, and realized that it was Breese, a more recent tapping code, very similar to Morse, but with a few differences.
"Maybe. I don't know. Just let me think for a minute." Quatre closed his eyes and listened to the taps. Short, short, longer, very long, short, quite short, and on and on. It took him a minute to remember the code; he hadn't had much opportunity to learn or use it, but he remembered enough. He opened his eyes again and nodded.
Duo studied his face for a minute, then began tapping the bedrail again.
-C- -A- -N-, he paused for a moment, -Y- -O- -U-, he stopped again, then continued -U- -N- -D- -E- -R- -S- -T- -A- -N- -D-. Duo looked up, the question in his eyes.
Quatre smiled. "I understand," he said with slight emphasis, "that you're worried about my condition, but you needn't be. I know myself pretty well. I'm on the mend. I want to get out of here soon." He tapped his fingers against the edge of the bedrail.
-T- -O- -N- -I- -G- -H- -T-. He looked up. Duo nodded. They would try to leave that night, and pray that no one who was listening in had been able to understand the Breese.
