"'ZOLOM!'"
Reeve sat back in his chair and Tseng heard him take a drink of something and then set it back down on the table. "Strife would just scream it. 'ZOLOOOOM!' And he'd run. Not from it. *To* it. It looked like all his hair was standing on end, not just that one idiotic spike. And he'd...In the swamp water, he'd go toe to toe with it and he'd go 'BASTARD! LET'S GO!' Pissed off, but happy. Happier than you usually got to see him, because he was usually so damn quiet. But he'd just go nuts. I mean, *I* was scared, and I wasn't even really there.
"And one time we went there with Aeris. Aeris in her pink dress and bow, and her staff and little bit of armor, loaded down with Materia. And, I'd be afraid for Aeris, you know, that little girl in a pink dress having to fight the Midgar Zolom. But Christ, I'll tell you something. They - I mean, *we,* - we had a system. Strife had the Restore Materia - he was good at that, - and he'd cast Regen right away. Aeris was already in Fury and so was I at the time. Strife gave out those Hypers like candy. It was sick. You take a Hyper, then run into the swamp to kill Zoloms. Sometimes your physical attacks would miss because you were so wired on the Hypers. Zolom would always take one of us out, but it didn't matter. The system Strife set up was almost infallible. You'd get limit breaks every few minutes. Strife and Aeris would be exhausted at the end of the day. Or Strife and whoever he took with him. Not Cait Sith though. Jesus, *I'd* be exhausted in my office, and I was never really there.
"I think I know why it was the Zoloms, too. I mean, they were big and they were good for helping everyone build limits, but that might have just been an excuse. Before I started traveling with them, they had run into a dead Zolom that Sephiroth had impaled on a tree. They talk about it all the time. At that time, none of them were strong enough to go up against one, and I think it scared the hell out of them that the man they were chasing could even do that. It was like...It was like, if they could take down Zoloms too, then maybe they'd have a chance of taking Sephiroth down. Except that Sephiroth had done it alone. He didn't have allies and the system."
He paused to take another drink of whatever was on his desk, then he fidgeted with the glass for a second before putting it down. Probably soda. Something sweet.
"So Strife would scream when he saw the outline of one under the swamp water, and it sounded like he was laughing. And then he'd just run, and Cait Sith could never keep up with him and neither could anyone else, so we'd be lagging behind him and for a few moments he'd be right in front of the Zolom and it towered over him. Over all of us, really, but when you saw him standing there alone for those few seconds with that huge sword, laughing up at the Zolom, Strife so small and human and the Zolom so...so..."
"Yes, I've seen the Zolom," Tseng said softly into the dark room. "They're impressive."
A shaky sigh from the behind the desk. "Impressive," Reeve answered. "Yeah, you could say that."
Tseng took another step into the room. He could make out the shape of the man sitting behind the desk, as insubstantial as a shadow. That was wrong. Whatever else Reeve might have seemed or been at times, he was always *there.*
"And then," Reeve mumbled, barely moving his lips. "They would fight. Aeris with her staff, like a little savage. Cait Sith with Materia, and Strife..."
"What Materia?" Tseng asked too quickly. He bit his lip in frustration. This was no time to rush Reeve for information. This was a time to tread delicately.
A harsh, hissing sigh came from Reeve, something that probably used to be a laugh. "Oh, that's what it's about. What do they have that you can get? And how much of it?"
"I'm trying to help Aeris."
*Gentle,* Tseng reminded himself. *And honest. He'll know if you lie.*
"No, no more spying, Reeve. That part is over."
The shadow behind the desk looked up.
"I have the keystone," Tseng said. He took it out of the breast pocket of his jacket and held it out. He knew that Reeve couldn't see it, but that didn't matter. Cait Sith had thrown it to him, so it was obviously in his possession.
Reeve lowered his head again. "Yeah," he breathed. "You got what you wanted."
"Jesus, what I want, Reeve, is to protect Aeris from Cloud Strife. To protect him from himself, even." Tseng took another step toward the desk. "You did your job, Reeve. You bought Avalanche some time. We'll get to the Temple first. Avalanche will walk."
"Mmm hmm."
"Reeve, that's why I'm taking you off project Cait Sith."
A sharp intake of breath, and Reeve looked up again. "No, you're not."
The next sharp intake of breath that Tseng heard was his own. No one spoke to him like that. Old man ShinRa never had, and his slick son *surely* wouldn't even dare. Tseng crossed to the side of the desk and held out the hand that wasn't holding the keystone. "Let me have the remote sensor for the robot."
"Hey," Reeve said, holding his head in both hands, "go to hell, Tseng."
Tseng had slipped the keystone into his pocket and hauled Reeve from behind the desk before Reeve had time to react. "The remote sensor, Reeve, now." He kept his voice low but gave the man a hard shake for emphasis and intimidation. "For Christ's sake, I'm protecting the Ancient. What more do you want?"
"Aeris!" Reeve shouted, and knocked Tseng's hands away. "Aeris, you idiot, her name is Aeris! Stop calling her 'Ancient!'"
Reeve pushed Tseng away, and Tseng let himself be pushed. He took a few deep, well practiced breaths. This was not a time for displays of temper or emotion.
Reeve seemed to think differently. "Christ!" he shouted as he slammed his fist against the thick Acryliglass of his office window. He turned around again to face Tseng. "You know what, Tseng, you're forgetting the most important factor: Cloud Strife. Cloud Strife is protecting Aeris, and he's doing a damn good job, and I understand that he did a damn good job when you sent the Turks out after her. At least until you all blew the shit out of Midgar and took her away from them."
Deep, well practiced breaths forgotten, Tseng stalked over to Reeve and threw him back against the window. He held him there with his forearm against his throat. "Reeve, stop talking right now, before you get yourself into trouble."
Midgar. He had to bring up Midgar, and he had to bring up the abduction. Tseng tried to shut out the images and feelings from the helicopter ride back to ShinRa headquarters: the hazy, green sheen that had hovered around everything in his sight like an aura; the throbbing violence in his blood that had made him want to tear the veins out of his arms; the bright red, whirlpool feeling of having status Materia cast on him; lingering disgust at having had Hojo's hands and needles all over him, as well as a dull horror at the realization that Hojo had created this version of him just as surely as he had created Sephiroth; but most of all, Aeris, sitting across from him, smiling her cool, unaffected smile, and the livid purple mark under her eye where he had struck her. "I could make you jump out of the helicopter if I wanted to," she had whispered to him. Her expression hadn't changed during the entire flight.
Reeve shoved Tseng away from him once again, and again, Tseng let himself be shoved. He turned away, pressed the cool heel of his palm against his forehead, and reconsidered those deep breaths. They helped. He could hear Reeve breathing raggedly behind him. Tseng mentally shook himself. There was something clearly not right about Reeve, beginning with his insistence that Tseng not turn on the light when he had first come into the room.
"Reeve, let me explain something to you," Tseng said.
He heard Reeve sit down at the desk again and sigh. "Go on."
Tseng thought for a moment before speaking. That didn't seem to bother Reeve, who sat quietly and waited. Or perhaps he wasn't interested in what Tseng had to say to begin with.
"Cloud Strife..." he began, then changed his mind about how he was going to phrase it. He had been about to say, "Cloud Strife is full of poison," but those were harsh words, and Reeve might interpret them the wrong way. It was equally risky to say, "Cloud Strife was poisoned by ShinRa," because Reeve was already turning against the corporation, and in his rage, might do something rash.
"Cloud Strife was in SOLDIER," he finally said. "He joined willingly, and though he never made it to First Class, he was subjected to some of the procedures."
"Mako," Reeve said.
"Yes, Mako, but not only that. Like Sephiroth, and like a few of their contemporaries, Strife is full of Jenova cells."
Reeve made a sudden movement behind the desk, and Tseng turned around. "Does he even know that?" he asked.
"I don't know," Tseng said truthfully. "He might. I think he has a right to, either way, but I also don't think that this information should come to him through a robot cat who works as a spy for ShinRa. Do you understand?"
"Of course I..." Reeve began to snap at Tseng, but bit back the reply as he thought about what he was saying. "Of course," he said more softly.
"But at such a dangerous time, that's not the point. The point is that with everyone closing in on the Temple of the Ancients, Jenova is going to take notice. And Jenova is not without the ability to manipulate those who have its cells in their systems. Do you understand *that?*"
"I do."
"No, I don't think you do," Tseng said. Reeve clearly wasn't paying attention. "What I'm telling you is that Jenova might have the ability to make Strife do its will. If that's the case, and the Black Materia falls into Strife's hands, he will be very dangerous, and very powerful. Reeve, only think about it. Hasn't Strife ever acted strangely, that you've noticed?"
Very telling silence from the other man. The fact that Reeve had nothing to say to that made Tseng nervous.
"You can take this anyway you want, and you can believe this or not, but my aim is to keep the Black Materia, the Temple of the Ancients, Cloud Strife and Aeris away from Jenova and Sephiroth, if I can."
Reeve didn't answer. Tseng wanted to know whatever Reeve was keeping from him, and he wanted the remote sensor. Playing spy was not a good job for the Head of Urban Development. He should have realized that he could only keep Reeve on this case for a few weeks before it tampered with his mind.
"Lights," Tseng said.
In the brief moment of glaring, filtered, white Mako light, Tseng had seen Reeve, and the image jarred him.
"Christ!" Reeve said, quickly sheltering his eyes with his arm. "Dim!"
The lights dimmed to half their output, and Reeve kept his arm over his eyes. "Jesus, Tseng! You could have warned me."
"Reeve, move your arm."
He didn't comply, but Tseng was already walking towards him as he said it. He pulled Reeve's arm away from his face and peered with curious concern into overbright, watering eyes.
More curious than that were the wires all over Reeve's white shirt that seemed to be attached to sensors, and the virtual reality manipulation glove that went halfway up his arm and looked like an advanced prosthetic. His face was nearly as white as his shirt, save for the shadows under his eyes, so dark he looked to Tseng like a whore who had cried her makeup off. Reeve was shaking like a recent shock therapy patient. With all the gadgets that seemed to be outloading into his system, perhaps he was just that.
Tseng let go of Reeve's arm. "What the hell have you been doing to yourself?"
"Your dirty work," Reeve said, and pulled his arm out of Tseng's grasp.
"Don't lay this at my door," Tseng warned. "All I asked you to do was watch and listen, and get the keystone. I never asked you to do...to do whatever it is you've done." He watched as Reeve impatiently pulled the wires off of him - God damn, from his hair, too. "What is it that you have done, by the way?"
Reeve looked at him petulantly as he threw the wires and sensors on the desk. "Cait Sith is more complicated than you think," he said, as if that should explain everything. Tseng shook his head. "He's a sensor," Reeve said, exasperated that he had to explain it. "He gathers sensory information and uploads it, only he doesn't just gather visual and auditory. I expanded his capabilities. Cait Sith can transmit all kinds of stimuli; he can do everything but real emotion." Reeve sat back, exhausted, frustrated, but with a hint of arrogance. "He's a remarkable program, Tseng."
Tseng could only stare for a moment as it came together in his mind. He felt his mouth hanging open slightly. "Congratulations," he said. "And to what, exactly, does Cait Sith upload this sensory information?" He knew the answer, but felt he had to ask anyway, if for no other reason than to demonstrate that no one in their right mind would consider what Reeve had done.
Reeve smiled, a twisted, ironic smile. Then he looked down at the manipulation glove on his hand and flexed it. "I used this to get Cait Sith to throw the keystone to you. Good aim, I thought." He clenched the glove into a fist, and Tseng had to wonder if somewhere on the Planet, Aeris was watching a black and white cybercat flex and curl its metal claws. Then Reeve held the glove out, palm up. "Can I see the keystone for a minute?"
Tseng considered it carefully, the shrugged. There was no way that Reeve could make it past him, past security, or anywhere outside of the ShinRa building. He took it out of his pocket and dropped it into the manipulation glove.
Reeve turned it over and looked at it blankly. "It just looks like a rock." He frowned deeply and folded his fingers around it.
"It is a rock, but it's the only rock that will fit on the altar at the Temple." Reeve opened his hand, and Tseng could almost hear him thinking: "All of this for a rock."
He pulled a chair in front of the desk and leaned his chin on his knuckles. "Listen to me," he said. Reeve looked up. "You did the right thing."
Reeve looked unsure. He gazed at the keystone again. "Strife was so betrayed. You know? He's so screwed up. He doesn't even know who to trust in the first place."
"Yes, Strife should be more careful," Tseng said. Reeve looked at him sharply. "Naivete could get him killed."
"So you're saying that I helped him by betraying him?"
"In a way." Tseng sat back and thought it through further. "In many ways. If they had gotten into the Temple with this keystone in their hands, they would have gotten the Black Materia. Then ShinRa would be the least of their worries. Then they would have to worry about Jenova. Sephiroth is a diversion, Reeve. Do you understand that?"
"No."
"Sephiroth's dead. There's no question of it. They're hunting a ghost. The controlling force is Jenova, and Jenova wants the Black Materia. Jenova is a danger to anyone who holds it, so in that one way, we're taking the pressure off Strife and the others. But Strife himself is the more immediate danger."
"He hasn't done anything yet," Reeve said, but he sounded doubtful.
"He hasn't had Materia of this intensity in his hand."
Reeve leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He looked like he could fall asleep just then. Instead, he tossed the keystone to Tseng, who caught it awkwardly. Reeve ran his hand - the one without the glove - through his hair. "Sephiroth's dead?" he asked.
"Yeah, he is."
"Then what have we been seeing?"
Tseng shrugged. "Clones, I guess."
"Does Rufus know?"
Tseng snorted in vague disgust. "No. A few people suspect it, but Rufus is just interested in the Promised Land. He doesn't care who we chase or kill to get it."
Reeve looked at him darkly, wanting obviously to say something, but too afraid to go through with it. Tseng understood the other man's paranoia. Things had a way of getting out.
*Getting out.*
Getting out was a priority. It was going to take some more planning, and he wanted to clear this with his Turks, in case they ever needed his help or wanted to follow him. He had spoken to Reno - and in such hushed codes and vague words that he could hardly follow himself - but he was sure that Reno understood. Underestimated, was that young man. He had the subtle mind of a true sneak and liar. "I'm with you, boss," Reno had said a few times during the conversation, and had meant it in a few different ways, too. Reno would find a way to tell Rude.
Elena was going to be a little more difficult. With the possibility of people listening everywhere the Turks went, Tseng would have to find a nice, public place, code her as casually as he could, and hope that she understood him.
Then perhaps they would all be free. But Reeve would still be chained to the corporation, pretending to work, having his robot tag along with Avalanche until the end, and frying his brain in the process.
Tseng leaned on his palms on Reeve's desk and stared into the other man's glazed eyes. "I would tell you more, Reeve," he said, "but things have a way of getting out."
"I know," Reeve answered tiredly, and looked away.
Tseng kept staring. "Things have a way of getting out."
"Yeah, I know!" Reeve said, irritated.
Tseng sighed and stood back up. He dragged the back of his hand across his forehead. He was tired, too, and had only just noticed it. He turned the keystone over in his palm and looked at it. A silly rock with some grooves in it. The grooves did sort of look like a key, actually. He wondered how it would work once he put it on the altar. He wondered what would happen when he and the other Turks got into the Temple of the Ancients. What they would find, what they would decide, and how they would finally go about getting out of ShinRa. And what if he had to somehow get out alone, and leave the Turks? Then they would also be stuck under Rufus's heel until the next possibility of escape came along.
For once since becoming a Turk, Tseng had no plan, no foresight, nothing solid to focus on. How could he have a Plan B if he didn't even have a Plan A? He would have to bow to circumstances and hope for the best; he would have to work with what he had; he would have to compromise. Those were things that Turks did well, but Tseng rarely had to deal with those situations. If circumstances wanted to be the master of his fate and decisions, then Tseng would always just rip the control out of the hands of circumstance and take it in his own.
He would have to let as many trusted people as he could know that he was out. He trusted Reeve less than he trusted his Turks, but Reeve wanted out, too. Tseng doubted that he would run to Rufus or Scarlet or even Heidegger and tell them anything.
"So then, Reeve," Tseng began, "tomorrow I'll be leaving."
Reeve looked up.
"To go to the Temple of the Ancients, with the Turks."
Reeve nodded. "Ah. I see."
Tseng leaned on Reeve's desk again. "So, tomorrow I'll be leaving."
Reeve looked unsure, a little nervous too, as if he'd begun to wonder if he had imagined Tseng saying it the first time. "Right," he said.
Tseng straightened up and turned to leave. "Lights down," he said. The lights dimmed, leaving the room in semi darkness, as he had found it. His own eyes cast a slight green glow, and he turned in the doorway. "Tomorrow, I'm going to go into the Temple with the Turks, to find out about the Promised Land, and then report back to the president," he said mechanically.
Reeve was quiet behind his desk, waiting for Tseng to go on.
"But, keep that information to yourself," Tseng said. "Because in ShinRa, things have a way of getting out."
"Right," Reeve said. "But then why did you just..."
"Things have a way of getting out."
Reeve was silent.
"I'll be leaving tomorrow. Oh, but Reeve, I think Reno wanted to talk to you. When you see him, ask him to meet you someplace public to go over your orders. Tell him Tseng asked you to, and tell him that you'd like to speak to him privately, because in ShinRa, things have a way of getting out. Thank you for your help, Reeve. Goodnight."
He turned to leave.
"Tseng!"
Tseng turned around again. Reeve was standing up behind his desk; the silhouette of a man with a cyber-claw covering half his arm. Tseng thought fleetingly of Vincent. "Yes?"
"Look, just be careful tomorrow, all right?"
Tseng felt a small shiver when Reeve said that, and he recognized it. That was a shiver of intuition. Reeve had a feeling about something, and Tseng felt that he should trust it. He would have to be on his guard. "I will be," he said. "Take care of yourself, Reeve. Hopefully we'll see each other soon."
"Yeah, we will. I'll be along tomorrow, too."
"You're not going to quit this thing?"
Reeve shook his head. "But I could quit anytime I want to," he added with a wry smile.
Tseng acknowledged him with a small nod, though he didn't find the joke funny at all. Addictions came in all forms. "Take care of yourself, Reeve."
"Yeah. You do the same."
As Tseng turned and closed the door behind him, he heard Reeve say, "lights out."
Reeve sat back in his chair and Tseng heard him take a drink of something and then set it back down on the table. "Strife would just scream it. 'ZOLOOOOM!' And he'd run. Not from it. *To* it. It looked like all his hair was standing on end, not just that one idiotic spike. And he'd...In the swamp water, he'd go toe to toe with it and he'd go 'BASTARD! LET'S GO!' Pissed off, but happy. Happier than you usually got to see him, because he was usually so damn quiet. But he'd just go nuts. I mean, *I* was scared, and I wasn't even really there.
"And one time we went there with Aeris. Aeris in her pink dress and bow, and her staff and little bit of armor, loaded down with Materia. And, I'd be afraid for Aeris, you know, that little girl in a pink dress having to fight the Midgar Zolom. But Christ, I'll tell you something. They - I mean, *we,* - we had a system. Strife had the Restore Materia - he was good at that, - and he'd cast Regen right away. Aeris was already in Fury and so was I at the time. Strife gave out those Hypers like candy. It was sick. You take a Hyper, then run into the swamp to kill Zoloms. Sometimes your physical attacks would miss because you were so wired on the Hypers. Zolom would always take one of us out, but it didn't matter. The system Strife set up was almost infallible. You'd get limit breaks every few minutes. Strife and Aeris would be exhausted at the end of the day. Or Strife and whoever he took with him. Not Cait Sith though. Jesus, *I'd* be exhausted in my office, and I was never really there.
"I think I know why it was the Zoloms, too. I mean, they were big and they were good for helping everyone build limits, but that might have just been an excuse. Before I started traveling with them, they had run into a dead Zolom that Sephiroth had impaled on a tree. They talk about it all the time. At that time, none of them were strong enough to go up against one, and I think it scared the hell out of them that the man they were chasing could even do that. It was like...It was like, if they could take down Zoloms too, then maybe they'd have a chance of taking Sephiroth down. Except that Sephiroth had done it alone. He didn't have allies and the system."
He paused to take another drink of whatever was on his desk, then he fidgeted with the glass for a second before putting it down. Probably soda. Something sweet.
"So Strife would scream when he saw the outline of one under the swamp water, and it sounded like he was laughing. And then he'd just run, and Cait Sith could never keep up with him and neither could anyone else, so we'd be lagging behind him and for a few moments he'd be right in front of the Zolom and it towered over him. Over all of us, really, but when you saw him standing there alone for those few seconds with that huge sword, laughing up at the Zolom, Strife so small and human and the Zolom so...so..."
"Yes, I've seen the Zolom," Tseng said softly into the dark room. "They're impressive."
A shaky sigh from the behind the desk. "Impressive," Reeve answered. "Yeah, you could say that."
Tseng took another step into the room. He could make out the shape of the man sitting behind the desk, as insubstantial as a shadow. That was wrong. Whatever else Reeve might have seemed or been at times, he was always *there.*
"And then," Reeve mumbled, barely moving his lips. "They would fight. Aeris with her staff, like a little savage. Cait Sith with Materia, and Strife..."
"What Materia?" Tseng asked too quickly. He bit his lip in frustration. This was no time to rush Reeve for information. This was a time to tread delicately.
A harsh, hissing sigh came from Reeve, something that probably used to be a laugh. "Oh, that's what it's about. What do they have that you can get? And how much of it?"
"I'm trying to help Aeris."
*Gentle,* Tseng reminded himself. *And honest. He'll know if you lie.*
"No, no more spying, Reeve. That part is over."
The shadow behind the desk looked up.
"I have the keystone," Tseng said. He took it out of the breast pocket of his jacket and held it out. He knew that Reeve couldn't see it, but that didn't matter. Cait Sith had thrown it to him, so it was obviously in his possession.
Reeve lowered his head again. "Yeah," he breathed. "You got what you wanted."
"Jesus, what I want, Reeve, is to protect Aeris from Cloud Strife. To protect him from himself, even." Tseng took another step toward the desk. "You did your job, Reeve. You bought Avalanche some time. We'll get to the Temple first. Avalanche will walk."
"Mmm hmm."
"Reeve, that's why I'm taking you off project Cait Sith."
A sharp intake of breath, and Reeve looked up again. "No, you're not."
The next sharp intake of breath that Tseng heard was his own. No one spoke to him like that. Old man ShinRa never had, and his slick son *surely* wouldn't even dare. Tseng crossed to the side of the desk and held out the hand that wasn't holding the keystone. "Let me have the remote sensor for the robot."
"Hey," Reeve said, holding his head in both hands, "go to hell, Tseng."
Tseng had slipped the keystone into his pocket and hauled Reeve from behind the desk before Reeve had time to react. "The remote sensor, Reeve, now." He kept his voice low but gave the man a hard shake for emphasis and intimidation. "For Christ's sake, I'm protecting the Ancient. What more do you want?"
"Aeris!" Reeve shouted, and knocked Tseng's hands away. "Aeris, you idiot, her name is Aeris! Stop calling her 'Ancient!'"
Reeve pushed Tseng away, and Tseng let himself be pushed. He took a few deep, well practiced breaths. This was not a time for displays of temper or emotion.
Reeve seemed to think differently. "Christ!" he shouted as he slammed his fist against the thick Acryliglass of his office window. He turned around again to face Tseng. "You know what, Tseng, you're forgetting the most important factor: Cloud Strife. Cloud Strife is protecting Aeris, and he's doing a damn good job, and I understand that he did a damn good job when you sent the Turks out after her. At least until you all blew the shit out of Midgar and took her away from them."
Deep, well practiced breaths forgotten, Tseng stalked over to Reeve and threw him back against the window. He held him there with his forearm against his throat. "Reeve, stop talking right now, before you get yourself into trouble."
Midgar. He had to bring up Midgar, and he had to bring up the abduction. Tseng tried to shut out the images and feelings from the helicopter ride back to ShinRa headquarters: the hazy, green sheen that had hovered around everything in his sight like an aura; the throbbing violence in his blood that had made him want to tear the veins out of his arms; the bright red, whirlpool feeling of having status Materia cast on him; lingering disgust at having had Hojo's hands and needles all over him, as well as a dull horror at the realization that Hojo had created this version of him just as surely as he had created Sephiroth; but most of all, Aeris, sitting across from him, smiling her cool, unaffected smile, and the livid purple mark under her eye where he had struck her. "I could make you jump out of the helicopter if I wanted to," she had whispered to him. Her expression hadn't changed during the entire flight.
Reeve shoved Tseng away from him once again, and again, Tseng let himself be shoved. He turned away, pressed the cool heel of his palm against his forehead, and reconsidered those deep breaths. They helped. He could hear Reeve breathing raggedly behind him. Tseng mentally shook himself. There was something clearly not right about Reeve, beginning with his insistence that Tseng not turn on the light when he had first come into the room.
"Reeve, let me explain something to you," Tseng said.
He heard Reeve sit down at the desk again and sigh. "Go on."
Tseng thought for a moment before speaking. That didn't seem to bother Reeve, who sat quietly and waited. Or perhaps he wasn't interested in what Tseng had to say to begin with.
"Cloud Strife..." he began, then changed his mind about how he was going to phrase it. He had been about to say, "Cloud Strife is full of poison," but those were harsh words, and Reeve might interpret them the wrong way. It was equally risky to say, "Cloud Strife was poisoned by ShinRa," because Reeve was already turning against the corporation, and in his rage, might do something rash.
"Cloud Strife was in SOLDIER," he finally said. "He joined willingly, and though he never made it to First Class, he was subjected to some of the procedures."
"Mako," Reeve said.
"Yes, Mako, but not only that. Like Sephiroth, and like a few of their contemporaries, Strife is full of Jenova cells."
Reeve made a sudden movement behind the desk, and Tseng turned around. "Does he even know that?" he asked.
"I don't know," Tseng said truthfully. "He might. I think he has a right to, either way, but I also don't think that this information should come to him through a robot cat who works as a spy for ShinRa. Do you understand?"
"Of course I..." Reeve began to snap at Tseng, but bit back the reply as he thought about what he was saying. "Of course," he said more softly.
"But at such a dangerous time, that's not the point. The point is that with everyone closing in on the Temple of the Ancients, Jenova is going to take notice. And Jenova is not without the ability to manipulate those who have its cells in their systems. Do you understand *that?*"
"I do."
"No, I don't think you do," Tseng said. Reeve clearly wasn't paying attention. "What I'm telling you is that Jenova might have the ability to make Strife do its will. If that's the case, and the Black Materia falls into Strife's hands, he will be very dangerous, and very powerful. Reeve, only think about it. Hasn't Strife ever acted strangely, that you've noticed?"
Very telling silence from the other man. The fact that Reeve had nothing to say to that made Tseng nervous.
"You can take this anyway you want, and you can believe this or not, but my aim is to keep the Black Materia, the Temple of the Ancients, Cloud Strife and Aeris away from Jenova and Sephiroth, if I can."
Reeve didn't answer. Tseng wanted to know whatever Reeve was keeping from him, and he wanted the remote sensor. Playing spy was not a good job for the Head of Urban Development. He should have realized that he could only keep Reeve on this case for a few weeks before it tampered with his mind.
"Lights," Tseng said.
In the brief moment of glaring, filtered, white Mako light, Tseng had seen Reeve, and the image jarred him.
"Christ!" Reeve said, quickly sheltering his eyes with his arm. "Dim!"
The lights dimmed to half their output, and Reeve kept his arm over his eyes. "Jesus, Tseng! You could have warned me."
"Reeve, move your arm."
He didn't comply, but Tseng was already walking towards him as he said it. He pulled Reeve's arm away from his face and peered with curious concern into overbright, watering eyes.
More curious than that were the wires all over Reeve's white shirt that seemed to be attached to sensors, and the virtual reality manipulation glove that went halfway up his arm and looked like an advanced prosthetic. His face was nearly as white as his shirt, save for the shadows under his eyes, so dark he looked to Tseng like a whore who had cried her makeup off. Reeve was shaking like a recent shock therapy patient. With all the gadgets that seemed to be outloading into his system, perhaps he was just that.
Tseng let go of Reeve's arm. "What the hell have you been doing to yourself?"
"Your dirty work," Reeve said, and pulled his arm out of Tseng's grasp.
"Don't lay this at my door," Tseng warned. "All I asked you to do was watch and listen, and get the keystone. I never asked you to do...to do whatever it is you've done." He watched as Reeve impatiently pulled the wires off of him - God damn, from his hair, too. "What is it that you have done, by the way?"
Reeve looked at him petulantly as he threw the wires and sensors on the desk. "Cait Sith is more complicated than you think," he said, as if that should explain everything. Tseng shook his head. "He's a sensor," Reeve said, exasperated that he had to explain it. "He gathers sensory information and uploads it, only he doesn't just gather visual and auditory. I expanded his capabilities. Cait Sith can transmit all kinds of stimuli; he can do everything but real emotion." Reeve sat back, exhausted, frustrated, but with a hint of arrogance. "He's a remarkable program, Tseng."
Tseng could only stare for a moment as it came together in his mind. He felt his mouth hanging open slightly. "Congratulations," he said. "And to what, exactly, does Cait Sith upload this sensory information?" He knew the answer, but felt he had to ask anyway, if for no other reason than to demonstrate that no one in their right mind would consider what Reeve had done.
Reeve smiled, a twisted, ironic smile. Then he looked down at the manipulation glove on his hand and flexed it. "I used this to get Cait Sith to throw the keystone to you. Good aim, I thought." He clenched the glove into a fist, and Tseng had to wonder if somewhere on the Planet, Aeris was watching a black and white cybercat flex and curl its metal claws. Then Reeve held the glove out, palm up. "Can I see the keystone for a minute?"
Tseng considered it carefully, the shrugged. There was no way that Reeve could make it past him, past security, or anywhere outside of the ShinRa building. He took it out of his pocket and dropped it into the manipulation glove.
Reeve turned it over and looked at it blankly. "It just looks like a rock." He frowned deeply and folded his fingers around it.
"It is a rock, but it's the only rock that will fit on the altar at the Temple." Reeve opened his hand, and Tseng could almost hear him thinking: "All of this for a rock."
He pulled a chair in front of the desk and leaned his chin on his knuckles. "Listen to me," he said. Reeve looked up. "You did the right thing."
Reeve looked unsure. He gazed at the keystone again. "Strife was so betrayed. You know? He's so screwed up. He doesn't even know who to trust in the first place."
"Yes, Strife should be more careful," Tseng said. Reeve looked at him sharply. "Naivete could get him killed."
"So you're saying that I helped him by betraying him?"
"In a way." Tseng sat back and thought it through further. "In many ways. If they had gotten into the Temple with this keystone in their hands, they would have gotten the Black Materia. Then ShinRa would be the least of their worries. Then they would have to worry about Jenova. Sephiroth is a diversion, Reeve. Do you understand that?"
"No."
"Sephiroth's dead. There's no question of it. They're hunting a ghost. The controlling force is Jenova, and Jenova wants the Black Materia. Jenova is a danger to anyone who holds it, so in that one way, we're taking the pressure off Strife and the others. But Strife himself is the more immediate danger."
"He hasn't done anything yet," Reeve said, but he sounded doubtful.
"He hasn't had Materia of this intensity in his hand."
Reeve leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He looked like he could fall asleep just then. Instead, he tossed the keystone to Tseng, who caught it awkwardly. Reeve ran his hand - the one without the glove - through his hair. "Sephiroth's dead?" he asked.
"Yeah, he is."
"Then what have we been seeing?"
Tseng shrugged. "Clones, I guess."
"Does Rufus know?"
Tseng snorted in vague disgust. "No. A few people suspect it, but Rufus is just interested in the Promised Land. He doesn't care who we chase or kill to get it."
Reeve looked at him darkly, wanting obviously to say something, but too afraid to go through with it. Tseng understood the other man's paranoia. Things had a way of getting out.
*Getting out.*
Getting out was a priority. It was going to take some more planning, and he wanted to clear this with his Turks, in case they ever needed his help or wanted to follow him. He had spoken to Reno - and in such hushed codes and vague words that he could hardly follow himself - but he was sure that Reno understood. Underestimated, was that young man. He had the subtle mind of a true sneak and liar. "I'm with you, boss," Reno had said a few times during the conversation, and had meant it in a few different ways, too. Reno would find a way to tell Rude.
Elena was going to be a little more difficult. With the possibility of people listening everywhere the Turks went, Tseng would have to find a nice, public place, code her as casually as he could, and hope that she understood him.
Then perhaps they would all be free. But Reeve would still be chained to the corporation, pretending to work, having his robot tag along with Avalanche until the end, and frying his brain in the process.
Tseng leaned on his palms on Reeve's desk and stared into the other man's glazed eyes. "I would tell you more, Reeve," he said, "but things have a way of getting out."
"I know," Reeve answered tiredly, and looked away.
Tseng kept staring. "Things have a way of getting out."
"Yeah, I know!" Reeve said, irritated.
Tseng sighed and stood back up. He dragged the back of his hand across his forehead. He was tired, too, and had only just noticed it. He turned the keystone over in his palm and looked at it. A silly rock with some grooves in it. The grooves did sort of look like a key, actually. He wondered how it would work once he put it on the altar. He wondered what would happen when he and the other Turks got into the Temple of the Ancients. What they would find, what they would decide, and how they would finally go about getting out of ShinRa. And what if he had to somehow get out alone, and leave the Turks? Then they would also be stuck under Rufus's heel until the next possibility of escape came along.
For once since becoming a Turk, Tseng had no plan, no foresight, nothing solid to focus on. How could he have a Plan B if he didn't even have a Plan A? He would have to bow to circumstances and hope for the best; he would have to work with what he had; he would have to compromise. Those were things that Turks did well, but Tseng rarely had to deal with those situations. If circumstances wanted to be the master of his fate and decisions, then Tseng would always just rip the control out of the hands of circumstance and take it in his own.
He would have to let as many trusted people as he could know that he was out. He trusted Reeve less than he trusted his Turks, but Reeve wanted out, too. Tseng doubted that he would run to Rufus or Scarlet or even Heidegger and tell them anything.
"So then, Reeve," Tseng began, "tomorrow I'll be leaving."
Reeve looked up.
"To go to the Temple of the Ancients, with the Turks."
Reeve nodded. "Ah. I see."
Tseng leaned on Reeve's desk again. "So, tomorrow I'll be leaving."
Reeve looked unsure, a little nervous too, as if he'd begun to wonder if he had imagined Tseng saying it the first time. "Right," he said.
Tseng straightened up and turned to leave. "Lights down," he said. The lights dimmed, leaving the room in semi darkness, as he had found it. His own eyes cast a slight green glow, and he turned in the doorway. "Tomorrow, I'm going to go into the Temple with the Turks, to find out about the Promised Land, and then report back to the president," he said mechanically.
Reeve was quiet behind his desk, waiting for Tseng to go on.
"But, keep that information to yourself," Tseng said. "Because in ShinRa, things have a way of getting out."
"Right," Reeve said. "But then why did you just..."
"Things have a way of getting out."
Reeve was silent.
"I'll be leaving tomorrow. Oh, but Reeve, I think Reno wanted to talk to you. When you see him, ask him to meet you someplace public to go over your orders. Tell him Tseng asked you to, and tell him that you'd like to speak to him privately, because in ShinRa, things have a way of getting out. Thank you for your help, Reeve. Goodnight."
He turned to leave.
"Tseng!"
Tseng turned around again. Reeve was standing up behind his desk; the silhouette of a man with a cyber-claw covering half his arm. Tseng thought fleetingly of Vincent. "Yes?"
"Look, just be careful tomorrow, all right?"
Tseng felt a small shiver when Reeve said that, and he recognized it. That was a shiver of intuition. Reeve had a feeling about something, and Tseng felt that he should trust it. He would have to be on his guard. "I will be," he said. "Take care of yourself, Reeve. Hopefully we'll see each other soon."
"Yeah, we will. I'll be along tomorrow, too."
"You're not going to quit this thing?"
Reeve shook his head. "But I could quit anytime I want to," he added with a wry smile.
Tseng acknowledged him with a small nod, though he didn't find the joke funny at all. Addictions came in all forms. "Take care of yourself, Reeve."
"Yeah. You do the same."
As Tseng turned and closed the door behind him, he heard Reeve say, "lights out."