Chapter 8
Olaf stood up very slowly. His eyes never left my face as I kept a wary eye on him. "Where should we start?" he asked.
"How about with the 'I don't know anything part'?" I suggested. That earned me a grim smile, but we weren't supposed to be friendly with each other. And Mathew was right, I wasn't telling the truth. Lying through lack of information, one of my favorite things to do.
"Mathew doesn't believe you," Stated Olaf.
I nodded sadly. "Ah, too true. Alas he doesn't give a damn what I think and is a stubborn jackass. His problem, but soon to be mine by the look of it."
"Are you trying to be funny?"
"Not really, but is it working?"
Olaf smiled again. Yippee, Someone who finally didn't mind a joke! Everyone else was too serious. I had half a mind to say it when Olaf changed the subject.
"What do you know about the gundam attacks?"
I blinked and thought hard, what all did I know? "They came because we have Julia Maxwell somewhere on this base. I don't know where, I was shooting out into space right after I heard she was here."
"What do you know about the gundam pilots?"
I licked my lips as I thought. "Well, I know a lot about their gundams, if you want I'll tell you stats and the like. I don't know much about them, only basic personalities. They have several hangars on earth and a ship where they live in space."
Olaf stared at me, his continual frown getting deeper. "You're lying, you know more than that."
Raising an eyebrow I answered, "Beg your pardon? That's about it. But what else do I know. There's their background, parents, origins, where they were born… that kind of thing. I know their schooling, a bit about them, a lot of general stuff, some specifics."
"Have you seen them?"
"A lot of pictures, I saw Julia in person in a presentation she was doing with Alex Yuy. It was under peace, headed by Relena Peacecraft. She has the trust and loyalty of so many people Oz didn't dare do anything. I saw her, along with Alex. Poe, Zero and Tarmine weren't hanging out with them yet. I saw Zero and Tarmine at a mobile suit presentation. Oz showed up a bit later and chased them off. I saw Poe when my brother went to a martial art tournament. Poe beat him." Suddenly I was happy I'd spent extra time looking up the real Thomas Conway's family. He had quite a complicated past. His brother was killed by one of the gundams in a fight five years ago, when he first became obsessed with the gundams.
"Half true, but it all checks out. You were in those places."
I squinted at him. "How would you know that? What'd you do, look me up?" Olaf didn't move. My eyes widened. "You did! God, someone suspects me of a crime and next thing you know my life's public record."
"Now be truthful, when did you first meet the other pilots?"
I glared at him. I was just a little mad. "I told you."
He slowly walked around the table. I stood up equally slow, not wanting to be sitting when he got here. He towered over me. It didn't bug me I'd always been short. He looked grim, I didn't care, I wasn't going to let him beat me up just to find out I was not lying. Even If I was, I never gave in to torture before. Looking at his muscles I realized just how powerful his punch might be.
"One more time, the truth."
"Go to hell and take your stupid questions with you. I already told you the answer," I growled.
Then I was against the wall, his hand pushing against my neck, which wasn't necessary because the wind was knocked out of me and I couldn't breath anyway. I gasped, trying to hold on to air, and to get some. Olaf squeezed my neck. My lunges were hot and dry. Gasping for breath wasn't working and I couldn't think strait. Then he moved his hand and I could breath, but it didn't last long. His knee met my gut and I was gasping for air again.
Olaf let me fall to the ground. I managed to get to my hands and knees before he kicked me, knocking me over after kicking me up and away. He was very strong and I was beginning to worry about broken bones. That wouldn't be good. I was a girl, it would be hard to hide that if someone had to fix bones.
"Have you changed your answers yet?"
I managed to smirk, bully for me. "Why? So you could hear a lie?"
Wrong answer. I yelled as he grabbed the back of my shirt and threw me into a wall. I wondered if I could find the video of this and use it in court. I smiled to myself as I thought of what'd I say. "Um, judge. I know I'm the bad guy and everything, and I admitted it after getting the crap kicked out of me by this Olaf dude, and I want to show you how unfair it was." I laughed out loud. Oops.
"What's so funny?" Olaf asked from behind me, pushing me harder into the wall.
I thought for a reply, couldn't think of anything. My silence didn't please him. He threw me to the ground.
Red, suddenly everything was a red haze.
Synz? About time you showed up. Get me out of this!
I was at home in the hangar. Poe and I were having a practice fight. I was okay, he still kicked my but, but I was okay. He'd thrown me to the ground and I was crutching in the same position I was in now. He came at me and I turned with a hard kick, it hit his stomach and he staggered, but quickly caught himself.
I blinked, back in the real world. Olaf was coming at me. Turn and kick, I hit him, but a little lower than the stomach. He winced and I unsteadily got to my feet. Waiting to get my balance I watched Olaf bend over in pain. It was now or never. I kicked again, but he reacted faster than I thought he would. Grabbing my ankle he pulled, forcing me off my feet. He kicked me again.
"You stupid bastard!" he said with another kick. Damn, I was going to bruise.
Picking me up he threw me into a wall, left arm first. I heard a crack as I hit. Blood stained my shirt and my arm hung limp. Now I was scarred. A broken arm wasn't good, and the rest of me was throbbing with pain. Collapsing to the ground I screamed as he hit me again. He kicked my mouth. Tears streamed down my face as I tasted blood.
I needed out of here. I needed this to stop. I hurt so bad… and I couldn't stop screaming.
Red surrounded me, but not Synz. A different red. A very hot, blistering red. Fire. "God no," I whispered as it shot outward, out towards Olaf, to where he was standing staring at me with surprise and fear. The flame attached itself to him, like a creature locking hold of his flesh. He screamed but all I could think of was an article I had read on Julia's insistence a year ago.
The title had been 'pyrokinetic consumed in fire'. Lines played over my mind… fire comes from nowhere…consumes the boy…no one could stop it…
"Stop," whispered. "Stop!" I yelled, but the fire raged on and Olaf was blistering, cooking in the flames.
Stop, Damn it!
The fires vanished so suddenly, pushing air away hard.
I froze staring at the smoldering body in front of me. Olaf's ragged breathing and soft cries insured me he was alive. I couldn't summon the courage to move towards him. His entire body was black, at least a very serious third degree burn. I wasn't sure if there was anything worse. I didn't know if they could get worse than that, but if they could this was it. He whimpered and I cringed. What had started that fire? Could it have been me? Then the smell came, burnt flesh. My eyes widened in fear.
Shaking violently I crabbed walked backwards, trying to get as far away from Olaf as I could. I didn't want to see his charred body, didn't want to smell what the fire had left. I ended up in the corner farthest from the door to outside, right under the camera. They couldn't see me with it. I took comfort in that and let myself cry. Tears poured down my face as I whimpered silently, waiting for someone to show up to take him away, to help him. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help.
The door burst open. I watched, my eyes wide and filled with fear as the men came pouring in. They surrounded me, all with guns aimed at my head. I pulled myself into a tighter ball than I was already in. Distantly I heard someone say something about Olaf being too close to death. He'd die, and I would be the person who killed him.
I don't remember much of what happened next. I was taken to a different cell, all metal, even the bed. I sat on the cold floor, unmoving as I stared at the camera that was like an eye that always watched me. I fell asleep, eventually, still in a tight ball on the floor.
I woke up to the door being opened. The light was on, I wasn't sure it had been before. Taking in my surrounding I sat up. It was all metal, steel to be more specific. That was the only thing I had noticed before, but now I saw more detail. There were several locks on the one door leading out. No window or opening showed anything through it. There was no light switch, which led me to assume it was either outside or on a clock somewhere. The bed was secured firmly to the wall with a thin mattress on it. That was the only thing flammable in here.
V walked into the room, followed by two guards. To save him incase I set someone aflame. Glad to see I was trusted, I thought sarcastically. Truthfully I was gad to see they were taking precautions.
"How are you doing?" V's voice held genuine concern. I wasn't sure what to think of that.
"Peachy keen," I said almost merrily. Maybe I was a good actress after all. Maybe not.
V frowned. "I mean it, how are you feeling? Do you need a doctor?"
I sighed. Did I have a sign saying 'ask stupid questions' on my forehead? It seemed that way. "I have roughly five broken bones, a sprained wrist and a twisted ankle. None of which would have happened if someone from Oz hadn't beat me up to find an answer to a question I'd already answered. Yeah, I need a doctor, and a lawyer and a new job. In that order, or maybe the job comes first."
V winced. Not the answer he was hoping for, but brutal honesty was something I was good at. He'd deal with it or he'd leave me the hell alone. "The other guys are worried about you," he said. "And I'm sorry about Olaf. If I had know they'd bring him in…"
I stared at him. Oh the blessing of denial. Time to tell the truth. I was almost sorry I had to spoil things for him. Almost.
"V, 'they' didn't bring anyone in. It was your dad, Mathew Barton. Simple as that. He doesn't like me and he thinks I'm lying. He's going to make me say whatever he wants me to and that's that," I stated. "I'm glad the guys care but I'm not exactly the best friend to have at the moment so maybe you should just forget about me for awhile. By then I'll probably be dead or the bad guy." As much as I hated losing friends I meant it. I didn't want him to be my friend when they find out the truth.
V just shook his head. "I don't abandon friends."
"Maybe you should make an exception." I leaned toward him as I said it.
V didn't look convinced, more like stubborn. Everyone was telling him to ditch me and I was going to have about as much effect as all the others. I didn't know whether I should just tell him he could be wrong and send him packing or shut up and maybe have an ally if I actually didn't get caught.
"Why did you come to see me anyway? To ask if I need a doctor?" I asked.
V smiled at me, but only for a moment. He said, "No, I came to ask how you did that to Olaf."
My body went slack as I saw again Olaf screaming as the fire ate at him. "What happened to him?" my voice was tight as I asked the question I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to.
"He's dead. He died before they could get him help."
I closed my eyes, sighing softly. "I didn't do anything. It just… happened."
"Do you know what the fire means?" V asked.
I shook my head. "Not a clue."
"You're pyrokinetic."
"Oh," I said. Actually that was my guess. I had a clue after all. "Pyrokinetic and telepath. Aren't I lucky," I whispered.
"Truthfully, yes," V said. I looked at him, confused, so he went on. "Most pyrokinetics end up killing themselves. They have no way to control their power. You need telepathy to do that. You have what you need to control your other power, that's how you stopped the fire."
I nodded my understanding, but it didn't change the cold, lost feeling inside. I'd been able to stop the fire, but not soon enough, not nearly soon enough. What was the good of having the ability to control it if I couldn't use it quickly enough?
I looked at V and wondered what he was thinking, what he saw. A shaggy kid, a boy, terrified and confused, not to mention beat up. Blonde hair was unbrushed and in a mess around his face. Green eyes hid tears, but not well. A new bruise was blossoming on his left eye, I felt it aching badly. He'd have a good shiner if it weren't already that way. The boy huddled on the floor, looking much younger then he was. Than I was. I knew I had to look pathetic, yet strangely in control of myself. I wouldn't let this break down my defenses. I'd have to figure out a way to keep my secret. If using V helped then so be it.
I hated myself for that decision, but I didn't change it.
"Maybe a doctor wouldn't be a bad idea," I muttered, realizing I needed one. Doctors bugged me, don't ask why. Probably had to do with the needles they stuck into you, claming it was to avoid disease. I think it's another legalized torture, kind of like running in P.E., not that I couldn't do it, just that I didn't want to.
V left soon after, happy he'd won one the battle. I'd get the next one, maybe. The doctor looked me over, but not too carefully. He noticed a broken bone in my left forearm, but wouldn't put a cast on it, only a sling. I had a broken ankle, and was equipped with crutches. He didn't check my chest, though I knew I had a broken rib. He didn't ask, I didn't offer. There was another broken bone in my foot, same side as the ankle. Last thing he found, beside a dozen bruises, was a broken wrist on my right arm. He bandaged that tightly. He left me with a cream for the bruises, but nothing else. I wonder if he didn't like me or had been given orders not to help too much.
After he was gone I opened the cream. Reading the labels I put some on. A basic pain killing solution, more for easing the ache then getting rid of it. I frowned, but it was better than nothing. When I was done I managed to get to my feet and stumble over to the bed. Plopping down I ignored the fact that it was hard and uncomfortable. It wasn't too cold and I was tired. Imagining myself back in my bed at home, filled with about five blankets and four pillows I felt a peace. Smiling I slept.
Again I woke up to someone coming into my room. Yawning I stretched, wincing from all my aches. I noticed the lights were on low. The figure was slit housed against the light from outside and it took me a moment to recognize him.
"What do you want Zechs?" I sounded tired.
He shut the door. "You're supposed to be sleeping," he said, nothing sarcastic in his voice.
"And I repeat, what do you want Zechs?"
Though I barely saw it he smiled. "V told me about the doctor his dad assigned you and asked me to stop by."
I blinked, thought a moment, and blinked again. "Why'd he send you?"
I heard Zechs sigh, tired and exasperated. I wonder how many people he had to talk to so he could see me. I wonder how much he had to say. "I can help you, Conway. Just trust me on this one. 'Kay?" he pleaded.
I nodded, just this once I didn't really care.
Zechs walked over to me and kneeled right in front of my bed. He gently fingered my arm, locating the broken bone. With a gasp and a hiss I bit my tongue as tingling filled my arm. Even though it didn't hurt, it actually felt good. I could almost feel the bone being knitted back together as he healed it. He gingerly picked up my other arm and fingered my wrist, finding the exact spot. Then the feeling came again. It was a warm, comforting feeling, making me groggy and tired. I yawned as he once again pulled his hands away.
"What else is broken?" Zechs asked softly.
"There were five bones broken. My foot and ankle are the last," I said.
He glared at me. "That's four, where's the fifth?"
I looked away. "I think one of my ribs are broken."
"Okay, foot and ankle first." He didn't treat it as a big deal as he picked up my foot. After healing the two lower bones he helped me take off my shirt as he conveniently stood in front of the camera's view of me. It hurt for me to use my arms, even though the bones were fully healed. The bruises were still intact and they hurt a hell of a lot more on the second day.
I flinched as he put his hands above my lower ribs. He felt my bones as he slowly moved up my chest, stopping right below my right breast. It felt weird having a guy touch me there, even if he was just a cousin helping me. It was worth my discomfort for him to finish healing me. I sighed in relief as he pulled away. One less thing I had to worry about. Zechs kept his spot while I slipped my shirt back on.
"Anything I can get you before I leave?" he asked.
I shook my head, then changed my mind and nodded. "Food and a trip to a bathroom if it's okay."
Zechs smiled. "I'll see what I can do."
"How did you heal me, anyway?" I asked without really caring.
He paused a moment before answering. "It's an ability that runs in the family." Then he was gone.
About five minutes later a soldier came in with a sandwich and water. It wasn't a bad meal. Ham and cheese with tomatoes and lettuce. Yummy. The water came in a bottle and tasted clean. Whoever said prison meals were bad hadn't been in this prison. Maybe only the important prisoners got to eat well. A trip to the bathroom came after my meal. No cameras were here. Life was getting better. Kind of.
Sleep overtook me when I got back to my cell. It was as if being healed wore me out, which I found surprising but I didn't mind that much.
When I woke up the lights were back on. I felt much better but still applied the cream. Hopefully it would help. Then I began to stretch. It helped loosen my sore muscles and even though it hurt I felt much better afterward.
A solder walked in, the same one who'd brought me food.
"Good morning," I said, "Or afternoon if it's not morning, I don't exactly have a clock to tell." The soldier didn't appreciate my good mood. That was his problem. Next time I'd be a jerk.
The soldier shifted his weight nervously as he relayed a message. Light a person on fire and everyone's afraid of you. Isn't life funny that way? "Mathew wants you to know that you have a meeting with several officials in about an hour."
I nodded. "Can you see about getting me a shower, and maybe some new cloths?" I was polite, nice, not in the slightest mean. I don't know exactly why he paled at me asking for help, but I think he'd try pretty hard to make sure I got a shower. Wonder if someone will try to watch me in it. I grimaced at the thought. This could turn out to be annoying.
Turns out I got a nice hot, private shower and a brand new tooth brush and toothpaste, even a clean outfit. Black slacks and a dark blue polo shirt with the word Oz in fancy print on the collar. I could probably get a different outfit, but the all black Nikes which fit me perfectly balanced the way too formal outfit, which really wasn't that formal. I personally stuck with jeans, t-shirt or tanks and my jacket, unless it was too hot for it.
Coming out of the bathroom I'd been using I actually looked presentable. A guard had been waiting to take me to the meeting I was supposed to be at in fifteen minutes. I followed him silently as he stiffly walked to a section of the base near the bridge. He stopped at a locked door and knocked once. When he stepped aside I guessed it was my sign to walk in.
I didn't knock, I rarely do. I don't really mind interrupting a meeting. I wasn't sure what to expect and I didn't want the people inside getting the wrong impression of me right away. They could do that later if I learned sucking up would get me out in one piece. But unless they made that painfully obvious I wasn't changing my attitude.
There was a long oak table shaded almost black from whatever polish had been used on it. There were pictures of different mobile suits and important members of the Oz organization. A picture of Treize Khushrenada was framed over the main chair, Mathew Barton's chair. I'd never met Treize, but I'd heard a lot about him. Other than the fact that WuFie hated him while he respected him greatly he was supposed to be a pretty cool guy. He and my uncle had once been friends, as they had once been enemies. I looked to another picture. Wonderfully painted a young man stood dressed in a decorated uniform full of medals. His eyes seemed to stare into you as he held a knowing smile, not mocking, but close. He held a white helmet that had once covered his platinum blonde hair.
Milliardo Peacecraft sat below his portrait. I didn't let my surprise show. I wasn't aware he was once again an important figure of Oz. My uncle had remained friends, a close friend, to my family even through their difficult arrangements, not to mention beliefs. Though he and my father did share some beliefs. And they were both great pilots. But I've never seen them fight. My dad says they never fight anymore. I knew that was partly because of Heero's arthritis.
Milliardo's eyes passed over me with little interest. Smart, very smart. He doesn't know me either. Just like Zechs, kind of. I almost shook my head and smiled. But I didn't. I wanted to, but let's not confuse the important people more than we have to.
Five people sat at the rectangular table. Mathew sat at the head, with his brother Andrew to the right of him. To his left sat his lawyer, same guy that had been in the cell. Next to the lawyer was a man with a very long mustache, almost as if he'd just come out of some play where the villain always twirls his long mustache evilly. It looked kinda cool actually. And of course Milliardo sat next to Andrew. They were all staring at me, three out of the five frowning profusely while Mathew starred blankly and Milliardo hid a small smile behind his hand.
I just stood there, having nothing else to do, and they sat. Finally Milliardo said something.
"He's this 'spy' you've been telling us about?" he asked.
Mathew glared at him. I did smile then. I wasn't the only unliked person in the room. Suddenly things seemed better. "Yes," Mathew said, "This is the spy, or at least who we think it is."
"Who's 'we'?" asked Mr. Mustache. He seemed to be on Milliardo's side, even though he didn't really like me. Friends are nice sometimes. I had two out of five votes on whether or not I'll be let go.
Mathew glared at him. "The representatives of this colony."
My turn to talk, "Who represents this colony? Not the pilots. Just you, and if there's anyone else they probably just go along with you 'cause you're the boss and that's what matters. I know many of the pilots here. I doubt they'd think I'm some 'spy' who's trying to kill them all, especially since I saved their lives." I sounded bored, as if I'd been repeating myself for quite awhile. I can't imagine why that would be.
Mathew shot me a glare. I'd only said one thing and I'm already getting the look. He was either in a bad mood or I was being especially annoying. I was betting on the bad mood. But hey, It worked for me.
Andrew spoke up. "What if you'd pre-arranged it with the pilots? What if you had planned on fighting them off and becoming a hero?"
I rolled my eyes. "Okay… how to argue that. Let's see… that shouldn't be too hard. A one-word answer: Julia. If I was working Alex Yuy I wouldn't have Julia captured just to show off how good a pilot I was. I think I'd be a little smarter than that. Why would I risk my employers best friend?"
"Perhaps they'd have a way to rescue her," said the lawyer. I had a strong urge to strangle him. How stupid can a person be? Let's rescue the girl while getting ourselves caught 'cause we don't even know where she is and there's about half a million people on guard duty only allowed to let people they know pass, with no exceptions.
I looked at the lawyer as I focused my entire 'shut the hell up' look on him. Then I smiled, oh so sweetly. "Look. I don't want to spell this out for you but I will if I must. I joined Oz not long ago because I grew up thinking that fighting for my cause is the right thing to do. If I had known that just because I could be a spy I'd be treated like crap I never would have joined this organization and there'd have been no one here to save you from the numerous attacks of the gundams.
"In other words you'd be dead," I finished.
Mathew was steaming. I could almost see the smoke coming out of his red head. But I didn't find it funny, I was too busy being mad. Things seamed to become a lot less amusing when you're angry.
"I seriously doubt we'd all be dead right now," Mathew said coolly, calmly. Bully for him, but I was about to get brownie points.
With a grin I replied, "Too true. You and anyone else you deem important would be on a ship away from this colony, not caring what happened to the people on it, as long as you were safe." Okay, I didn't exactly have proof of that, but he wasn't denying and it was a good guess.
"Let's look at this from a different perspective," Milliardo said. "We know next to nothing about you, but your story as we see it checks out. Now if you were a spy you could very well have chosen to pretend to be Conway. He's a good cover. Then again, you could be what you say you are. A boy from a destroyed space colony."
Time to be somewhat honest. "The colony that I was born on is destroyed. My parents were in it when it exploded. I don't want to be a problem, I'm just trying to deal with this. I guarantee you that when this is over I'll leave, find a nice apartment and get a job. I have no want to be in Oz at the moment and would gladly drop out, just like that. You'd never hear a word from me." I'd get a job, keep it long enough for them to be convinced, move again, and disappear.
Mr. Mustache spoke up again, "I'm afraid that's the one thing you can't do. You're not to leave the colony but I'm sure you can go on with your normal routine. I'm sure my partners from the Barton foundation would agree that it is best to drop charges and have you continue on your life, although we can't let you leave until we're sure it's safe for us." Smart guy. Damn I hated when the bad guys were smart. It really screws with my escape plans.
I didn't say that, of course. What I did do was smile, nod, and thank him sincerely, acting as if I understood, which I did, but I didn't like it.
Olaf stood up very slowly. His eyes never left my face as I kept a wary eye on him. "Where should we start?" he asked.
"How about with the 'I don't know anything part'?" I suggested. That earned me a grim smile, but we weren't supposed to be friendly with each other. And Mathew was right, I wasn't telling the truth. Lying through lack of information, one of my favorite things to do.
"Mathew doesn't believe you," Stated Olaf.
I nodded sadly. "Ah, too true. Alas he doesn't give a damn what I think and is a stubborn jackass. His problem, but soon to be mine by the look of it."
"Are you trying to be funny?"
"Not really, but is it working?"
Olaf smiled again. Yippee, Someone who finally didn't mind a joke! Everyone else was too serious. I had half a mind to say it when Olaf changed the subject.
"What do you know about the gundam attacks?"
I blinked and thought hard, what all did I know? "They came because we have Julia Maxwell somewhere on this base. I don't know where, I was shooting out into space right after I heard she was here."
"What do you know about the gundam pilots?"
I licked my lips as I thought. "Well, I know a lot about their gundams, if you want I'll tell you stats and the like. I don't know much about them, only basic personalities. They have several hangars on earth and a ship where they live in space."
Olaf stared at me, his continual frown getting deeper. "You're lying, you know more than that."
Raising an eyebrow I answered, "Beg your pardon? That's about it. But what else do I know. There's their background, parents, origins, where they were born… that kind of thing. I know their schooling, a bit about them, a lot of general stuff, some specifics."
"Have you seen them?"
"A lot of pictures, I saw Julia in person in a presentation she was doing with Alex Yuy. It was under peace, headed by Relena Peacecraft. She has the trust and loyalty of so many people Oz didn't dare do anything. I saw her, along with Alex. Poe, Zero and Tarmine weren't hanging out with them yet. I saw Zero and Tarmine at a mobile suit presentation. Oz showed up a bit later and chased them off. I saw Poe when my brother went to a martial art tournament. Poe beat him." Suddenly I was happy I'd spent extra time looking up the real Thomas Conway's family. He had quite a complicated past. His brother was killed by one of the gundams in a fight five years ago, when he first became obsessed with the gundams.
"Half true, but it all checks out. You were in those places."
I squinted at him. "How would you know that? What'd you do, look me up?" Olaf didn't move. My eyes widened. "You did! God, someone suspects me of a crime and next thing you know my life's public record."
"Now be truthful, when did you first meet the other pilots?"
I glared at him. I was just a little mad. "I told you."
He slowly walked around the table. I stood up equally slow, not wanting to be sitting when he got here. He towered over me. It didn't bug me I'd always been short. He looked grim, I didn't care, I wasn't going to let him beat me up just to find out I was not lying. Even If I was, I never gave in to torture before. Looking at his muscles I realized just how powerful his punch might be.
"One more time, the truth."
"Go to hell and take your stupid questions with you. I already told you the answer," I growled.
Then I was against the wall, his hand pushing against my neck, which wasn't necessary because the wind was knocked out of me and I couldn't breath anyway. I gasped, trying to hold on to air, and to get some. Olaf squeezed my neck. My lunges were hot and dry. Gasping for breath wasn't working and I couldn't think strait. Then he moved his hand and I could breath, but it didn't last long. His knee met my gut and I was gasping for air again.
Olaf let me fall to the ground. I managed to get to my hands and knees before he kicked me, knocking me over after kicking me up and away. He was very strong and I was beginning to worry about broken bones. That wouldn't be good. I was a girl, it would be hard to hide that if someone had to fix bones.
"Have you changed your answers yet?"
I managed to smirk, bully for me. "Why? So you could hear a lie?"
Wrong answer. I yelled as he grabbed the back of my shirt and threw me into a wall. I wondered if I could find the video of this and use it in court. I smiled to myself as I thought of what'd I say. "Um, judge. I know I'm the bad guy and everything, and I admitted it after getting the crap kicked out of me by this Olaf dude, and I want to show you how unfair it was." I laughed out loud. Oops.
"What's so funny?" Olaf asked from behind me, pushing me harder into the wall.
I thought for a reply, couldn't think of anything. My silence didn't please him. He threw me to the ground.
Red, suddenly everything was a red haze.
Synz? About time you showed up. Get me out of this!
I was at home in the hangar. Poe and I were having a practice fight. I was okay, he still kicked my but, but I was okay. He'd thrown me to the ground and I was crutching in the same position I was in now. He came at me and I turned with a hard kick, it hit his stomach and he staggered, but quickly caught himself.
I blinked, back in the real world. Olaf was coming at me. Turn and kick, I hit him, but a little lower than the stomach. He winced and I unsteadily got to my feet. Waiting to get my balance I watched Olaf bend over in pain. It was now or never. I kicked again, but he reacted faster than I thought he would. Grabbing my ankle he pulled, forcing me off my feet. He kicked me again.
"You stupid bastard!" he said with another kick. Damn, I was going to bruise.
Picking me up he threw me into a wall, left arm first. I heard a crack as I hit. Blood stained my shirt and my arm hung limp. Now I was scarred. A broken arm wasn't good, and the rest of me was throbbing with pain. Collapsing to the ground I screamed as he hit me again. He kicked my mouth. Tears streamed down my face as I tasted blood.
I needed out of here. I needed this to stop. I hurt so bad… and I couldn't stop screaming.
Red surrounded me, but not Synz. A different red. A very hot, blistering red. Fire. "God no," I whispered as it shot outward, out towards Olaf, to where he was standing staring at me with surprise and fear. The flame attached itself to him, like a creature locking hold of his flesh. He screamed but all I could think of was an article I had read on Julia's insistence a year ago.
The title had been 'pyrokinetic consumed in fire'. Lines played over my mind… fire comes from nowhere…consumes the boy…no one could stop it…
"Stop," whispered. "Stop!" I yelled, but the fire raged on and Olaf was blistering, cooking in the flames.
Stop, Damn it!
The fires vanished so suddenly, pushing air away hard.
I froze staring at the smoldering body in front of me. Olaf's ragged breathing and soft cries insured me he was alive. I couldn't summon the courage to move towards him. His entire body was black, at least a very serious third degree burn. I wasn't sure if there was anything worse. I didn't know if they could get worse than that, but if they could this was it. He whimpered and I cringed. What had started that fire? Could it have been me? Then the smell came, burnt flesh. My eyes widened in fear.
Shaking violently I crabbed walked backwards, trying to get as far away from Olaf as I could. I didn't want to see his charred body, didn't want to smell what the fire had left. I ended up in the corner farthest from the door to outside, right under the camera. They couldn't see me with it. I took comfort in that and let myself cry. Tears poured down my face as I whimpered silently, waiting for someone to show up to take him away, to help him. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't help.
The door burst open. I watched, my eyes wide and filled with fear as the men came pouring in. They surrounded me, all with guns aimed at my head. I pulled myself into a tighter ball than I was already in. Distantly I heard someone say something about Olaf being too close to death. He'd die, and I would be the person who killed him.
I don't remember much of what happened next. I was taken to a different cell, all metal, even the bed. I sat on the cold floor, unmoving as I stared at the camera that was like an eye that always watched me. I fell asleep, eventually, still in a tight ball on the floor.
I woke up to the door being opened. The light was on, I wasn't sure it had been before. Taking in my surrounding I sat up. It was all metal, steel to be more specific. That was the only thing I had noticed before, but now I saw more detail. There were several locks on the one door leading out. No window or opening showed anything through it. There was no light switch, which led me to assume it was either outside or on a clock somewhere. The bed was secured firmly to the wall with a thin mattress on it. That was the only thing flammable in here.
V walked into the room, followed by two guards. To save him incase I set someone aflame. Glad to see I was trusted, I thought sarcastically. Truthfully I was gad to see they were taking precautions.
"How are you doing?" V's voice held genuine concern. I wasn't sure what to think of that.
"Peachy keen," I said almost merrily. Maybe I was a good actress after all. Maybe not.
V frowned. "I mean it, how are you feeling? Do you need a doctor?"
I sighed. Did I have a sign saying 'ask stupid questions' on my forehead? It seemed that way. "I have roughly five broken bones, a sprained wrist and a twisted ankle. None of which would have happened if someone from Oz hadn't beat me up to find an answer to a question I'd already answered. Yeah, I need a doctor, and a lawyer and a new job. In that order, or maybe the job comes first."
V winced. Not the answer he was hoping for, but brutal honesty was something I was good at. He'd deal with it or he'd leave me the hell alone. "The other guys are worried about you," he said. "And I'm sorry about Olaf. If I had know they'd bring him in…"
I stared at him. Oh the blessing of denial. Time to tell the truth. I was almost sorry I had to spoil things for him. Almost.
"V, 'they' didn't bring anyone in. It was your dad, Mathew Barton. Simple as that. He doesn't like me and he thinks I'm lying. He's going to make me say whatever he wants me to and that's that," I stated. "I'm glad the guys care but I'm not exactly the best friend to have at the moment so maybe you should just forget about me for awhile. By then I'll probably be dead or the bad guy." As much as I hated losing friends I meant it. I didn't want him to be my friend when they find out the truth.
V just shook his head. "I don't abandon friends."
"Maybe you should make an exception." I leaned toward him as I said it.
V didn't look convinced, more like stubborn. Everyone was telling him to ditch me and I was going to have about as much effect as all the others. I didn't know whether I should just tell him he could be wrong and send him packing or shut up and maybe have an ally if I actually didn't get caught.
"Why did you come to see me anyway? To ask if I need a doctor?" I asked.
V smiled at me, but only for a moment. He said, "No, I came to ask how you did that to Olaf."
My body went slack as I saw again Olaf screaming as the fire ate at him. "What happened to him?" my voice was tight as I asked the question I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to.
"He's dead. He died before they could get him help."
I closed my eyes, sighing softly. "I didn't do anything. It just… happened."
"Do you know what the fire means?" V asked.
I shook my head. "Not a clue."
"You're pyrokinetic."
"Oh," I said. Actually that was my guess. I had a clue after all. "Pyrokinetic and telepath. Aren't I lucky," I whispered.
"Truthfully, yes," V said. I looked at him, confused, so he went on. "Most pyrokinetics end up killing themselves. They have no way to control their power. You need telepathy to do that. You have what you need to control your other power, that's how you stopped the fire."
I nodded my understanding, but it didn't change the cold, lost feeling inside. I'd been able to stop the fire, but not soon enough, not nearly soon enough. What was the good of having the ability to control it if I couldn't use it quickly enough?
I looked at V and wondered what he was thinking, what he saw. A shaggy kid, a boy, terrified and confused, not to mention beat up. Blonde hair was unbrushed and in a mess around his face. Green eyes hid tears, but not well. A new bruise was blossoming on his left eye, I felt it aching badly. He'd have a good shiner if it weren't already that way. The boy huddled on the floor, looking much younger then he was. Than I was. I knew I had to look pathetic, yet strangely in control of myself. I wouldn't let this break down my defenses. I'd have to figure out a way to keep my secret. If using V helped then so be it.
I hated myself for that decision, but I didn't change it.
"Maybe a doctor wouldn't be a bad idea," I muttered, realizing I needed one. Doctors bugged me, don't ask why. Probably had to do with the needles they stuck into you, claming it was to avoid disease. I think it's another legalized torture, kind of like running in P.E., not that I couldn't do it, just that I didn't want to.
V left soon after, happy he'd won one the battle. I'd get the next one, maybe. The doctor looked me over, but not too carefully. He noticed a broken bone in my left forearm, but wouldn't put a cast on it, only a sling. I had a broken ankle, and was equipped with crutches. He didn't check my chest, though I knew I had a broken rib. He didn't ask, I didn't offer. There was another broken bone in my foot, same side as the ankle. Last thing he found, beside a dozen bruises, was a broken wrist on my right arm. He bandaged that tightly. He left me with a cream for the bruises, but nothing else. I wonder if he didn't like me or had been given orders not to help too much.
After he was gone I opened the cream. Reading the labels I put some on. A basic pain killing solution, more for easing the ache then getting rid of it. I frowned, but it was better than nothing. When I was done I managed to get to my feet and stumble over to the bed. Plopping down I ignored the fact that it was hard and uncomfortable. It wasn't too cold and I was tired. Imagining myself back in my bed at home, filled with about five blankets and four pillows I felt a peace. Smiling I slept.
Again I woke up to someone coming into my room. Yawning I stretched, wincing from all my aches. I noticed the lights were on low. The figure was slit housed against the light from outside and it took me a moment to recognize him.
"What do you want Zechs?" I sounded tired.
He shut the door. "You're supposed to be sleeping," he said, nothing sarcastic in his voice.
"And I repeat, what do you want Zechs?"
Though I barely saw it he smiled. "V told me about the doctor his dad assigned you and asked me to stop by."
I blinked, thought a moment, and blinked again. "Why'd he send you?"
I heard Zechs sigh, tired and exasperated. I wonder how many people he had to talk to so he could see me. I wonder how much he had to say. "I can help you, Conway. Just trust me on this one. 'Kay?" he pleaded.
I nodded, just this once I didn't really care.
Zechs walked over to me and kneeled right in front of my bed. He gently fingered my arm, locating the broken bone. With a gasp and a hiss I bit my tongue as tingling filled my arm. Even though it didn't hurt, it actually felt good. I could almost feel the bone being knitted back together as he healed it. He gingerly picked up my other arm and fingered my wrist, finding the exact spot. Then the feeling came again. It was a warm, comforting feeling, making me groggy and tired. I yawned as he once again pulled his hands away.
"What else is broken?" Zechs asked softly.
"There were five bones broken. My foot and ankle are the last," I said.
He glared at me. "That's four, where's the fifth?"
I looked away. "I think one of my ribs are broken."
"Okay, foot and ankle first." He didn't treat it as a big deal as he picked up my foot. After healing the two lower bones he helped me take off my shirt as he conveniently stood in front of the camera's view of me. It hurt for me to use my arms, even though the bones were fully healed. The bruises were still intact and they hurt a hell of a lot more on the second day.
I flinched as he put his hands above my lower ribs. He felt my bones as he slowly moved up my chest, stopping right below my right breast. It felt weird having a guy touch me there, even if he was just a cousin helping me. It was worth my discomfort for him to finish healing me. I sighed in relief as he pulled away. One less thing I had to worry about. Zechs kept his spot while I slipped my shirt back on.
"Anything I can get you before I leave?" he asked.
I shook my head, then changed my mind and nodded. "Food and a trip to a bathroom if it's okay."
Zechs smiled. "I'll see what I can do."
"How did you heal me, anyway?" I asked without really caring.
He paused a moment before answering. "It's an ability that runs in the family." Then he was gone.
About five minutes later a soldier came in with a sandwich and water. It wasn't a bad meal. Ham and cheese with tomatoes and lettuce. Yummy. The water came in a bottle and tasted clean. Whoever said prison meals were bad hadn't been in this prison. Maybe only the important prisoners got to eat well. A trip to the bathroom came after my meal. No cameras were here. Life was getting better. Kind of.
Sleep overtook me when I got back to my cell. It was as if being healed wore me out, which I found surprising but I didn't mind that much.
When I woke up the lights were back on. I felt much better but still applied the cream. Hopefully it would help. Then I began to stretch. It helped loosen my sore muscles and even though it hurt I felt much better afterward.
A solder walked in, the same one who'd brought me food.
"Good morning," I said, "Or afternoon if it's not morning, I don't exactly have a clock to tell." The soldier didn't appreciate my good mood. That was his problem. Next time I'd be a jerk.
The soldier shifted his weight nervously as he relayed a message. Light a person on fire and everyone's afraid of you. Isn't life funny that way? "Mathew wants you to know that you have a meeting with several officials in about an hour."
I nodded. "Can you see about getting me a shower, and maybe some new cloths?" I was polite, nice, not in the slightest mean. I don't know exactly why he paled at me asking for help, but I think he'd try pretty hard to make sure I got a shower. Wonder if someone will try to watch me in it. I grimaced at the thought. This could turn out to be annoying.
Turns out I got a nice hot, private shower and a brand new tooth brush and toothpaste, even a clean outfit. Black slacks and a dark blue polo shirt with the word Oz in fancy print on the collar. I could probably get a different outfit, but the all black Nikes which fit me perfectly balanced the way too formal outfit, which really wasn't that formal. I personally stuck with jeans, t-shirt or tanks and my jacket, unless it was too hot for it.
Coming out of the bathroom I'd been using I actually looked presentable. A guard had been waiting to take me to the meeting I was supposed to be at in fifteen minutes. I followed him silently as he stiffly walked to a section of the base near the bridge. He stopped at a locked door and knocked once. When he stepped aside I guessed it was my sign to walk in.
I didn't knock, I rarely do. I don't really mind interrupting a meeting. I wasn't sure what to expect and I didn't want the people inside getting the wrong impression of me right away. They could do that later if I learned sucking up would get me out in one piece. But unless they made that painfully obvious I wasn't changing my attitude.
There was a long oak table shaded almost black from whatever polish had been used on it. There were pictures of different mobile suits and important members of the Oz organization. A picture of Treize Khushrenada was framed over the main chair, Mathew Barton's chair. I'd never met Treize, but I'd heard a lot about him. Other than the fact that WuFie hated him while he respected him greatly he was supposed to be a pretty cool guy. He and my uncle had once been friends, as they had once been enemies. I looked to another picture. Wonderfully painted a young man stood dressed in a decorated uniform full of medals. His eyes seemed to stare into you as he held a knowing smile, not mocking, but close. He held a white helmet that had once covered his platinum blonde hair.
Milliardo Peacecraft sat below his portrait. I didn't let my surprise show. I wasn't aware he was once again an important figure of Oz. My uncle had remained friends, a close friend, to my family even through their difficult arrangements, not to mention beliefs. Though he and my father did share some beliefs. And they were both great pilots. But I've never seen them fight. My dad says they never fight anymore. I knew that was partly because of Heero's arthritis.
Milliardo's eyes passed over me with little interest. Smart, very smart. He doesn't know me either. Just like Zechs, kind of. I almost shook my head and smiled. But I didn't. I wanted to, but let's not confuse the important people more than we have to.
Five people sat at the rectangular table. Mathew sat at the head, with his brother Andrew to the right of him. To his left sat his lawyer, same guy that had been in the cell. Next to the lawyer was a man with a very long mustache, almost as if he'd just come out of some play where the villain always twirls his long mustache evilly. It looked kinda cool actually. And of course Milliardo sat next to Andrew. They were all staring at me, three out of the five frowning profusely while Mathew starred blankly and Milliardo hid a small smile behind his hand.
I just stood there, having nothing else to do, and they sat. Finally Milliardo said something.
"He's this 'spy' you've been telling us about?" he asked.
Mathew glared at him. I did smile then. I wasn't the only unliked person in the room. Suddenly things seemed better. "Yes," Mathew said, "This is the spy, or at least who we think it is."
"Who's 'we'?" asked Mr. Mustache. He seemed to be on Milliardo's side, even though he didn't really like me. Friends are nice sometimes. I had two out of five votes on whether or not I'll be let go.
Mathew glared at him. "The representatives of this colony."
My turn to talk, "Who represents this colony? Not the pilots. Just you, and if there's anyone else they probably just go along with you 'cause you're the boss and that's what matters. I know many of the pilots here. I doubt they'd think I'm some 'spy' who's trying to kill them all, especially since I saved their lives." I sounded bored, as if I'd been repeating myself for quite awhile. I can't imagine why that would be.
Mathew shot me a glare. I'd only said one thing and I'm already getting the look. He was either in a bad mood or I was being especially annoying. I was betting on the bad mood. But hey, It worked for me.
Andrew spoke up. "What if you'd pre-arranged it with the pilots? What if you had planned on fighting them off and becoming a hero?"
I rolled my eyes. "Okay… how to argue that. Let's see… that shouldn't be too hard. A one-word answer: Julia. If I was working Alex Yuy I wouldn't have Julia captured just to show off how good a pilot I was. I think I'd be a little smarter than that. Why would I risk my employers best friend?"
"Perhaps they'd have a way to rescue her," said the lawyer. I had a strong urge to strangle him. How stupid can a person be? Let's rescue the girl while getting ourselves caught 'cause we don't even know where she is and there's about half a million people on guard duty only allowed to let people they know pass, with no exceptions.
I looked at the lawyer as I focused my entire 'shut the hell up' look on him. Then I smiled, oh so sweetly. "Look. I don't want to spell this out for you but I will if I must. I joined Oz not long ago because I grew up thinking that fighting for my cause is the right thing to do. If I had known that just because I could be a spy I'd be treated like crap I never would have joined this organization and there'd have been no one here to save you from the numerous attacks of the gundams.
"In other words you'd be dead," I finished.
Mathew was steaming. I could almost see the smoke coming out of his red head. But I didn't find it funny, I was too busy being mad. Things seamed to become a lot less amusing when you're angry.
"I seriously doubt we'd all be dead right now," Mathew said coolly, calmly. Bully for him, but I was about to get brownie points.
With a grin I replied, "Too true. You and anyone else you deem important would be on a ship away from this colony, not caring what happened to the people on it, as long as you were safe." Okay, I didn't exactly have proof of that, but he wasn't denying and it was a good guess.
"Let's look at this from a different perspective," Milliardo said. "We know next to nothing about you, but your story as we see it checks out. Now if you were a spy you could very well have chosen to pretend to be Conway. He's a good cover. Then again, you could be what you say you are. A boy from a destroyed space colony."
Time to be somewhat honest. "The colony that I was born on is destroyed. My parents were in it when it exploded. I don't want to be a problem, I'm just trying to deal with this. I guarantee you that when this is over I'll leave, find a nice apartment and get a job. I have no want to be in Oz at the moment and would gladly drop out, just like that. You'd never hear a word from me." I'd get a job, keep it long enough for them to be convinced, move again, and disappear.
Mr. Mustache spoke up again, "I'm afraid that's the one thing you can't do. You're not to leave the colony but I'm sure you can go on with your normal routine. I'm sure my partners from the Barton foundation would agree that it is best to drop charges and have you continue on your life, although we can't let you leave until we're sure it's safe for us." Smart guy. Damn I hated when the bad guys were smart. It really screws with my escape plans.
I didn't say that, of course. What I did do was smile, nod, and thank him sincerely, acting as if I understood, which I did, but I didn't like it.