Hey, y'all! Okay, I know I only updated Alaryan's Keep yesterday, but an all but frantic review spurred me on to put up another chapter. This one's for you, Sharaloth The Uber-Writer! --Lady PhoenixDagger *//.^*
I don't own Gundam Wing. I do own everything else. So no touchy or I'll have Walker turn you into a radish.
*****
"So you volunteered us," Trowa murmured from his bed, "for an insanely dangerous mission we know nothing about in which we could be killed at any time in any number of horrible ways?" He sat up. "Sounds like fun."
The five ex-pilots were holed up in Trowa and Quatre's bedroom, mulling over this new plot twist. Relena, Cathy and Kari lounged with them, lined up in a row on Quatre's bed. Cathy was even braiding Relena's hair.
"We shouldn't be fighting," Quatre sighed sadly. Relena leaned over and gave him a quick hug, tugging Cathy along with her.
"It's your choice, Quatre," she reminded him gently. "You don't have to fight if you don't want to. Walker made that very clear."
"I know…" The gentle cerulean eyes were troubled. "But you saw what Black Hood has done. I met some of the survivors around the Keep. They told me their stories." A tear began to meander its slow way down his cheek. "Their stories… Oh, lord…"
There was an uncomfortable silence as Kari silently handed Quatre a tissue. He blinked fiercely at the ceiling a moment before going on. "I…I want to fight. For them."
Beside Relena and Cathy, Kari smiled slightly. Staring at her pouty lips, Trowa's ears turned flaming red. Cathy quietly began to giggle.
"I'm in, too." Heero cracked his neck. "This past year's been dull."
"Mmm," Wufei sighed almost wistfully. "Too dull. But what about the girl?"
Behind her blindfold, Kari glared at him.
"No dishonour meant, but how will you see to fight?" Wufei smirked, "You'll only be a threat to the mission."
I can manage.
The frigid thought sent chills down the assembled spines of everyone there. Slowly, deliberately, Kari unwound and pulled off the black band circling her head to reveal a pair of wide beautiful eyes framed with long, pale eyelashes.
Of course, the fact that the eyes themselves were dead white from corner to corner took a bit away from their otherwise stunning beauty.
The others blinked.
Kari blinked back.
The back of Trowa's neck turned bright flaming red.
You're blushing.
Cathy fought to control her laughter.
A lovely smile found its way onto Kari's face. I see through heat signatures. In some ways it's better than normal sight. She shot a venomous look at Wufei. It allows me to see past people's facades.
"Uh huh. All's well and good, but there's still one leetle catch I kinda neglected to mention," Duo said, sitting up from where he had lain on the floor. "They have to run a few tests on us to see what were made of.
Heero straightened, eyes alert. "What kind of tests?"
"Uh, psychological and physical type testing." Slowly Duo unfolded and stood, cracking various stiff joints. "Nothing too invasive."
"Hmm. Sounds interesting. I'll bite."
Cathy frowned at Trowa's remark. "Don't you even think about getting hurt out there, Trowa Barton." Leaning in, she pressed an extended finger into the soft cartilage of her surrogate brother's nose. "Because if you do, I'll break both your legs."
Trowa snapped off a smart salute. "Yes ma'am!"
*****
"Alright, then." Zach passed along the line of boys all standing rigidly at attention. "Today we begin the process of opening the doors to your psyches and seeing how much your bodies can stand up to a Black Hood raid." The thin old man sauntered up and down the line, hands clasped easily behind his back. Physically, he was a rather small gentleman, skinny and wrinkled as crumpled parchment. But now, as the assembled ex-pilots watched him stare them over with hard grey eyes buried deep in the midst of almost cavernous cowl of his hued the deepest twilight blue, he seemed hundreds of metres tall.
"Some of you may pass, others may be left behind to cry and wallow in their inadequacy. Whatever the case, we need the best of the best for this mission and nothing less. No pussycats. Do you understand me?"
"Sir! Yes sir!" Five pairs of eyes glittered at the prospect.
Zach went on, bidding them a gesture to stand at ease. "The psychological test will begin first, for if we don't know your mental limits, or if they prove to be too low, then the physical test is useless. There are things within that corporation that can drive a normal man straight to insanity."
"Sir!"
"Alright. One by one you'll be subjected to a few simple tests. Nothing too serious or uncomfortable. Nothing invasive. If it's too much, then say so and it stops immediately, though it may jeopardise your chances of accompanying the others on the raid. The only catch is that you must take the tests alone."
He paused to flick a fat drop of sweat that was rolling down the side of Quatre's neck. The boys wore the identical work clothing particular to the Bhaarliad fashion: dark brown pants topped with black sashes, high leather boots and creamy tan shirts that laced at the neck, though most were left open, since all of the boys could still not figure out how to tie them. Duo had said hell with it and just pinned his shirt shut. Zach stopped in his pacing to pluck them out. They plinked tinnily to the stone floor, their sound echoing in the stiff silence. Duo blushed hotly, but remained at ease.
"Quatre," Zach said, not unkindly.
The blond boy stiffened.
"You're first."
*****
"Okay, son." Nat smiled easily as Quatre, who sat ramrod straight in the soft, comfortable couch in front of the Broman family TV.
The Broman house was a large, two-story cabin not more than fifteen minutes from the Ichara home. Because of his illness, Walker still lived at home and Darien had chosen to stay with him. The twins lived in their original bedroom on the first floor with the kitchen, bathroom and mudroom. The girl's room, their parents' room, Zach's room, Ali Broman's studio and the TV room –where Quatre and Nat now sat- were located on the second floor.
Zach was a family doctor, sharing a clinic in town with Nat -who was the resident pediatrician- and when Zach returned home in the evenings, he took his relaxation very seriously. The walls were painted black and lined with shelf after shelf of videos, CDs, DVDs, books on tape and video games (he claimed they helped his arthritis). The farthest wall from the door was a floor to wall bookshelf crammed with all sorts of books. The opposite wall from that had only the entertainment system, TV, and across from that, Quatre.
"Care for a snack?"
"I beg your pardon?" Quatre blinked at the bowl of trail mix set on the coffee table.
"Zach makes it." Nat picked through the edible jumble and popped a pretzel stick in his mouth. "It's probably the only food he can make without accidentally igniting first."
"Ahahaha…"
A remote was given to him.
"Relax, child." Nat cheerfully ruffled Quatre's straw-blond hair. "This isn't going to hurt at all. Just watch TV or put in a movie and I'll just sit here and observe you."
The Arab boy's cerulean eyes gleamed like freshly polished aquamarines. "Belle's downstairs in the kitchen."
A nod. "She is. But she won't probe further than you want her to," the old man said gently, trying to calm the skittish boy. "Shall we begin?"
The TV flicked on.
*****
Downstairs in the Broman family kitchen, Belle tapped her lips with her pen and scribbled down another quick note as she felt the subtle shift of Quatre's emotions. So far, he had watched the news channel and paid close attention to the financial report, understanding and deep interest mingled with homesickness coming through to Belle. As the scene on the screen had changed to one of bloodshed and war, he had flipped the channel, but not before feelings of sickness and guilt buried deeply in the boy's psyche came through. A deep-seated hatred of violence tinged with the unwanted longing to fight.
He is a peaceful warrior, Belle wrote, sadly visualising the gentle child now watching "The Sound of Music" with a light heart upstairs. A lamb with a sword.
Sighing, Belle flipped to another sheet of paper. Her Gentle Noble's time was almost up. Duo was next.
*****
"So I can watch whatever I want?"
Nat smiled at the braided bundle of energy bouncing up and down on couch. "Within reason, yes."
" 'Kay!"
He's quite the cutie, isn't he? Belle commented in Nat's mind.
Nat grinned. That he is.
"Can I have a Coke?" Duo chirped. Through his time on this new Earth, Duo had developed a taste for Coke. Or Pepsi. Or Jolt. Or anything dangerously sugary and relatively cola-esque.
"Ah…Maybe something a little less caffineated," Nat decided, watching Duo fidget and bounce.
"Oh." Duo grabbed the remote. "Okay."
He flicked on the TV.
*****
He's hiding. Thinking for a moment, Belle frowned and penned on. Outwardly, he is a cheerful boy, as happy a child as I've ever seen. But inwardly, he is tainted. Sorrow has wormed its way into the foundation of his happiness and made it weak. Conviction gripped her then, and she continued on with fervour. But with a little love, this can be overcome.
And I'm the lady to give it, she thought to herself.
Duo television habits were mainly normal. He flipped back and forth between various programs and the popular music channel. He liked the sitcoms, but Belle noted a small twinge of envy whenever the families indulged in a sappy caring, sharing moment.
Odd…
A religious show had come on a bit later, causing Duo to cease in his constant flipping –which Belle sensed was slowly driving Nat insane- and watched it the whole way through, a feeling of homey comfort suffusing him in creamy warmth.
This sweet happiness did not last long, however. During a commercial break, a paid announcement about helping the starving children of Third World countries. One look at their skinny, hunger-ravaged bodies had sent Duo's mind reeling through a chasm of personal pain. Of hunger, of fear, of cold. Of sudden merciless death at the hands of those who cared little for the rabble trodden on under their feet.
A sad frown creased her face as Belle took note of this and jotted it down. These events were something crucial to Duo's life and it could be in his best interest to delve deeper into them. But not now. Trowa was up next.
*****
"So just have to sit and watch TV and I'll record your reactions to what you see, okay?" Nat explained for the third time that day.
Nod.
"Good."
And again the TV was flicked on.
*****
Belle was frustrated. This boy Trowa was emotionally silent! All he watched was the news and a few reruns of "Circus" on the Life network. Aside from slight to moderate interest, there was nothing there, leaving Belle nothing to do but doodle angrily on her notepad.
Abruptly, Belle noticed something. Tiny as it was, it bobbed freely in the vast sea of neutral non-emotion and Belle grabbed at it before it could get away.
It had come when he had popped in one of the Broman home movies. Last Thanksgiving at the huge dining hall of the Keep. Belle remembered that day. Cornucopias had been all over the tables and the walls were draped in golden tan, orange, crimson and rich brown. Food all but dripped off the platters and the buffet tables groaned with their weight. Darien had been filming and Walker, of course, had spent more time hamming it up than actually eating. At least until Tama hit him over the head with a turkey leg. But it was when Kari came into the picture –which was rare, the girl was a master when it came to avoiding camera lenses- that Trowa took notice and this intrigued Belle.
Could it be that this cold, emotionless boy had developed his first crush?
*****
"This is stupid. I have better ways to waste my time than watching TV!"
Rubbing his throbbing forehead with his free hand, Nat made a fist with his free hand. Wufei suddenly fell silent, though not of his own volition.
"You will watch TV." Nat's eyes were dangerously narrow. "I will watch you. You will be quiet." The wizard unclenched his fist. Wufei glared at him, but wisely remained silent. It is never a good idea to trifle with a man who could easily cause rhubarb to sprout from one's ears.
"That's better. Care for a Cheeto?"
Wufei was still glaring at him as the TV was yet again flicked on.
*****
Strange boy. Belle wrote as she noted the deep sense of annoyance from the Chinese boy. Currently, he was watching a martial arts movie, fuming about how incorrectly everything was being done. He wishes for perfection. Strives for it, wants it in everything he sees. But he knows deep inside himself that he isn't perfect and it fills him with such rage.
She probed deeper into Wufei's mind. Loss abounded there, deeply buried within layers of confusion and hidden far, far below was an unwanted granule of fear.
He is a child who was never given a childhood, I suppose. A boy who was forced to become a man. How will he cope now that he is a normal kid? Will he be accept our love?
Belle flipped the page a final time and looked fleetingly to the coming sunset. One more left to go.
*****
"Are you sure you don't want a drink or something, son?" Nat offered again to the silent boy.
"Yes." Heero sat almost motionlessly on the couch, fingering the open laces on his shirt.
"Okay, I'm sure you know the drill from the others. You watch TV and I watch you and take notes." He tapped his pad with his pen. "That's all."
"Hn." Heero nodded.
"Sooooo…" Nat tried something Belle had suggested to him. "Your mission is to watch TV and let me observe you."
"Mission accepted."
He flicked on the TV.
*****
Belle's notepad remained blank. This boy Heero felt even less than Trowa. He felt nothing. Reacted to nothing. Had Belle not known better, she would have thought him to be asleep. Or perhaps dead.
What's wrong with this boy? Belle got up to make herself a fresh cup of coffee. He's so empty. Almost hollow.
At this moment, Heero was flipping through the channels, his body as still as when he first sat down. The channels were flicked at twenty-five second intervals, not one second more nor one less. Not one muscle moved, aside from his thumb on the remote and the dilation of his pupils. Heero was not watching TV out of enjoyment, but rather out of duty.
Twenty-four…twenty-five…flick…
Still no emotion. Belle sipped her coffee.
Twenty-four…twenty-five…flick…
Still nothing.
Twenty-four…twenty-five…twenty-six…twenty-seven…
The coffee cup fell from Belle's hand, shattering on the kitchen floor. The ageless woman didn't notice, too busy groping for her pen.
Heero was watching something.
And it was disturbing him.
Heero is watching a show on child abuse. Belle recorded diligently. It stabs him like a knife to see it. His heart of stone is wounded and his soul cries out as he watches, but the exterior is still smooth. His heart bleeds for these children. It's almost as though he feels their pain.
She probed still deeper into the silent boy's mind. The result twisted Belle's stomach.
This isn't pity. It's experience.
*****
Talon Gaevrien was worried. He had read over Belle's notes and the pictures they painted were less than pretty. As Head of Intelligence –a post his stupid First Minister older brother Zach loved to tease him about- Talon saw many a personality filter through via his reports and these boys were definitely like no other children –for indeed, children they were- he had ever seen.
The TV test had shown them to be outwardly happy, or at least mildly content with their situations. Inwardly, however, they were so different. They were afraid; children born into violence, children who had seen far too much. Although they were mentally shaky, the IQ test showed that they were certainly intelligent enough, all of them scoring through the roof and beyond.
Talon shuffled his thick stack of paperwork, all of it about the past week of testing. Judging from the report Darien had left on his desk that morning, the boys were physically capable of going on the upcoming raid. All of them were in peak physical condition, though Quatre would need a tiny bit of work to bring him up to the level of the other boys. They were all dead shots and they knew vast amounts about bombs and bomb construction, especially Duo. They worked very well under pressure and did well in the various simulations Zach conjured up for them.
It was their emotional states that worried Talon. Belle had looked into their minds and advised that they could easily handle a raid such as the one coming up. These boys were the perfect specimens of soldiers. They would be fine –relatively speaking- during the raid.
But as human beings, they lacked almost as much as freshly-rescued survivors of the Black Hood. This was what worried Talon. They would be fine when it came to battlefield violence and personal pain, but when it came to dealing with themselves, the road suddenly became treacherous. They were fear and mental pain mingled with training and strict discipline. Soldiers to the core.
Talon selected a file marked "Bed Test" from the sheaf and flipped it open. The bed test was the brainchild of Jaeid, one of the many Bhaarliad scholars in the Keep. The idea was simple: the subject was to be put to bed and when she or he was asleep, a humanoid dummy was put into the bed. The way the sleeper reacted to the new "person" in their bed would then give a insight into the sleeper's psyche.
Talon flipped a sheet and began to read.
Quatre Raberba Winner: The subject was at ease and fell asleep quickly, despite being in a strange bed. When the dummy was introduced, the subject seemed to be in the thick of a nightmare and snuggled up immediately to the dummy for comfort. This may suggest a loving personality, although the persistent nightmares seem to suggest some inner strife that may need to be brought to light at a later date.
Duo Maxwell: The subject refused to fall asleep! He bounded around the test room for the better part of an hour before settling down to bed. When the dummy was introduced, the subject came close to it, but kept jerking away as soon as he made contact. This behaviour suggests that although he is outwardly loving, he is afraid to get too close to people.
Trowa Barton: Fell asleep after turning and tossing for a long while. The subject exhibited some bizarre behaviour when the dummy was put into the bed. As soon as it was introduced, the subject shifted over and lay perfectly still on his back exactly between the dummy and the far edge of the bed. The emotional analysis is therefore found to be inconclusive.
Chang Wufei: Fell asleep immediately after about ten minutes of tai chi. When the dummy was set next to him, the subject first located the dummy with an outflung hand and then quickly pummelled it within and inch of its life until it fell from the bed. The subject is clearly antisocial and leery of human contact.
Heero Yuy: The subject looked asleep, but as soon as I touched the bed to introduce the dummy, the subject rolled over, pulled a gun from lord only knows where and muttered a low death threat in Japanese. Although the dummy was not introduced, it has been ruled that the subject is even more antisocial than young Wufei.
Jumpy, afraid, mentally unstable and antisocial. How lovely. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the future of our world. Talon set down the file and smiled sadly. smiling became wry chuckling, which quickly gave way to roars of laughter. What more can I do but laugh? Wiping away tears of mirth, he plopped the file in the cabinet beside him.
Heaven help you Gil, he thought to himself. You've got a double handful with these ones.
*****
See you later, and don't forget to review!
Ja ne!
--L.P.D. *//.^*