~
The dim nightbulbs did their best to fight off the courtyard's blackness. Cold air whipped about in sharp gusts. The open-air meeting place was empty, the SeeDs and young charges were retreated to their quarters for the night. Trees blew in the frigid wind, tossing leaves onto the empty benches and bare ground.
Irvine walked casually beside Aren, letting his tan trench coat flow in the wind. "You're, like, really serious about this," he said, "aren't you?"
A red skullcap covered Aren's head, and he wore a black hooded jacket over his crimson shirt. His shiny black hair trailed from under it and whipped about with the breeze. His lips formed a thin line through his pale face. And dispite the dark, he wore his sunglasses.
"Serious, yes," he replied. "But not sure. Well, I'll put it this way. You've known about Trabia Stratagem for, what, a month?"
"Yeah," said Irvine. "You thought it up like five weeks ago."
"Well, I checked the plan on Galbadia's database, and the figures are exactly the same. They drew the flight curve, the impact radius, everything. And not only that, but they made a three-dimensional model of the missles used to strike Trabia."
Irvine felt the wind blow at his hat, and he pushed it down. "Well, what's it mean?"
"Okay," said Aren. "Here's my take on the whole thing. A year ago, right after the attack on Trabia, Galbadia Garden noticed the same thing I'm noticing now. That something was wrong in the calculations. So they set up a team to map it all out, just like I'm doing." He shrugged, and leaned against the metal fence of the Meeting area. "They found out they were wrong, and they closed the search. And here I am, making the same mistake all over again."
"Hmm," Irvine nodded. "That's the simplest explanation, yeah. Didn't you say you needed a...another figure, or something?"
"I do," Aren nodded, sending his fist into his palm. "I need the exact point the first missle hit in Trabia. And the Garden's Trabia Stratagem didn't have that either. Guess they never included it, or maybe the data was corrupted."
Irvine nodded. "What's it gonna take to get that point?"
"Well," shrugged Aren, "I gotta go to Trabia. I'm not on the active duty list here yet, so I assume they won't be calling on me for a few weeks."
"Hey," Irvine said. "I'm looking at a couple weeks' leave in a few days! We could both head over there, bro!"
"All right!" Aren's eyebrows raised. "You know of any flights to Trabia?"
"No way, man! There's nowhere to land. You can still get there by train, though.
Aren's face cringed. "Great, I hate trains."
The wind died down some, and Irvine let go of his hat, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "It ain't so bad. Get a soundproofed car, or something."
"Too expensive," said Aren, and laughed. "I'll get some earmuffs."
"There you go! And hey, I can think of someone else who'd sure like to go."
Irvine leaned against the fence beside his friend, and nudged his shoulder. Aren raised back his head. And Irvine could not see, but was sure that he was rolling his eyes.
"Selphie?" said Aren. "Don't you think that's a bad idea? I mean, she's probably got enough to worry about as it is." He paused, and stood silently. "But if she's going back anyway, it'd make sense to take her with us. Just don't tell her about Trabia Stratagem!"
Irvine stretched, and nodded. "This looks to be a pretty decent vacation! I'm gonna get some rest, man. Catch me tomorrow, I'll see if I can get some train tickets lined up."
"Later," nodded Aren. He leaned over the steel fence as his friend left. Leaves blew across the ground, and collided with his thick boots. He mumbled quietly under his breath, pointing his finger in the air, drawing out imaginary numbers. "Hmm...launch velocity of five-hundred-thirty miles per hour, estimated...start angle of eighty-five degrees...man, it just doesn't make sense!"
He lifted his head, and cocked it, annoyed. "Jeez, I can't concentrate with that stupid noise! Now, if the afterburners were on prematurely, the speed would be five-seventy..."
Pausing, and scratching his fuzzy cap, he looked about. What is that? he thought. Sounds rhythmic, almost like...mm-hmm.
He reached inside his thick leather coat, and retrieved two curved metal clasps. They were about the length of his forearms, and exactly the shape. He attached them tightly to either arm. It's breathing. Too dramatic to be human. Maybe something snuck in from outside.
With a sudden jolt, Aren tore around the center pillar of the courtyard. His boots clapped the ground hard, but made no noise. It's to the left, by one of the benches. Hope it hasn't smelled me yet.
Aren leapt as hard as he could, launching himself several yards past the pillar. He hit the ground in a roll, halted abruptly at a kneel, and thrusted out both his fists in the direction of the park bench. He was just short of twenty feet from the seat.
"Aaaaugh!!"
Selphie jumped high into the air. She fell behind the wooden bench, sending up a cloud of leaves and twigs.Her brown leather boots jutted out from the thick brush she landed in, scrambling to stand.
Aren sprinted to the shrubs, his steps now making loud claps against the cold ground. He spread the bushes aside. "Whoa!" he said quietly. "Selphie! Sorry about that, I didn't know it was you. Lemme help you up!"
"Oh, it's you, Aren!" sighed Selphie. "Wow, did you scare me! I didn't hear you coming!"
"Sorry." He took her hand, and carefully lifted her from the plants, brushing off her shoulders. "You okay? Here, have a seat. All right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Whoo, don't do that! Ohmygosh, don't ever do that again!" Selphie caught her breath, sighing heavily as Aren sat beside her. She wiped her eyes a bit, and leaned back. "How come you're up so late?"
"Just doing some thinking," said Aren. "I was talking with Irvine, he just went to bed."
"Heh," she sniffed. "With some gorgeous girl, no doubt!"
Aren laughed. "Believe it or not, he was alone."
"Wow, no kidding!" Selphie chuckled weakly. She dried her eyes once more.
Unlocking the metal clasps from his arms, Aren placed them back into his coat. "Selphie, I'm really sorry about that. Are you sure you're all right? You still look a little flustered."
"Oh, yeah," she said. "Yeah, it's okay, really...I was kinda crying already."
He raised a thin eyebrow behind his shades. "Really? What about? You wanna talk, or something?"
She shrugged, and smiled a little. "Oh, it's nothing...It's, well, I just..." She sighed again, and planted her elbows on her knees, covering her face with her hands. "I didn't get it. No money, no help...nothing..."
Nothing, thought Aren. But he shook the notion off, he hated it.
"Hey, don't worry!" he replied softly. "Maybe the headmaster was just busy. We'll schedule another meeting and try again."
"H-he won't...see me again..."
"Then I'll go see him! Or Irvine! Or if you wanted, we could get a petition going." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "One way or another, we're getting that money!"
"Y-you think?" she sniffed, and peeked up.
"I know! I know these things!"
A frigid breeze whooshed over them. Aren felt Selphie shiver. "Hey," he said. "Shouldn't you be dressed a little warmer?"
"I...kinda can't get into my room," she sighed. "My keycard keeps rejecting me."
"Aw, you've gotta be kidding me! This just isn't your day." Aren stood, and held out his metal-palmed hand. "You're in luck, I can pick locks."
"You can?" she took his hand, and jumped up.
"Sure, especially these electronic ones. Where's your room?"
"Level four, block fifty."
"Mm, quite a walk." Aren pointed across the courtyard. "My quarters are just down that hall. Can we stop there first? We'll get you a jacket and a cup of coffee, I can pick up a tool or two just in case, and we'll go from there."
"You're the boss! Wow, this is great!"
They left the spot, hand in hand. Through his black shades, Aren glanced down at his friend. She tried her hardest to stay cheery, but he could tell she was dead tired. He slowed down his walk so she could keep up. Selphie didn't seem to notice she was trailing.
They stopped at a solid metal door. Aren slid his keycard through, and it split open. His quarters were bigger than most, with a lounge area in front and separate bath, kitchen, and bedroom areas. The floor was littered with sheet music and pages of scribbled notes.
Aren swiped the papers off a small loveseat. "Sorry," he said. "No time to clean lately. Have a seat, I'll be right back."
Selphie plopped down and smiled, and he swung into the kitchen. Electronic devices covered the counter, and wires piled out of the sink. Well, he thought, at least the kitchen's clean! He found a freshly-scrubbed cup, and filled it with some coffee from a brewing pot. Oh, waitaminnit!
Grabbing the wall and putting the mug down, he poked his head around the corner. "Hey Selphie," he called. "How'd you like your..."
Selphie was curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. Aren chuckled, stepped through the bedroom door, and came back with an armful of blankets. "You know what?" he whispered. "I think you oughtta get some sleep!" Unfolding one of the blankets, he spread it lightly over her. "Just don't snore, please! I don't care how quiet it is, it'd sound like a freight train to me!"
~
Fzzzzttt!!
The crackle of electricity slowly woke Selphie. She yawned, and groggily sat up. "Ugh," she moaned, "another day, another get rejected by another Gar...wha?"
Quite disoriented, she glanced dizzily about the dimly-lit room. Aren stood up from his chair across the lounge, placing a soldering iron and his steel clasps on an end table. "Hey, it's me, Aren. You're still at my place, remember?"
"Oh! That's right!" She looked down at the blankets. "What happened, did I fall asleep on you? I'm really sorry..."
"That's all right, I took a little nap myself. We've still got some time, you can rest some more if you'd like."
Selphie stretched her arms and sat back. "Nah, I feel great! Guess a little goes a long way. What time is it?"
"Um..." Aren turned to a digital clock on the wall. "Five-thirty."
"In...the morning? Aw, I slept here all night?"
"What, something wrong?"
"No!" she said. "I just feel bad, that's all. Hope I didn't snore!"
Aren wiped his forehead. "Nah, nothing like that. You were fine. Can I get you anything?"
"Let's see...a cup of coffee, please?"
He arched his back, stretched, and brushed forward his long hair. "Coming right up. Cream or sugar?"
"A little cream. Sugar makes me jumpy...well, jumpier than usual!" She scanned over the room as he left for the kitchen. A pile of slightly wrinkled papers was pinned to the end table by the solder gun and long metal bracelets. She eyed the items curiously, hands folded on her blankets. And suddenly, she realized she had blankets.
"Hey Aren!"
"Yeah?" he called from the kitchen.
"Did you get me some blankets last night?"
"Uh-huh. Why, you still cold?"
"No, just fine!" she smiled. "Thank you."
Aren returned with two mugs of coffee. He set one in her hands, and took the other to his chair.
"Thanks!" said Selphie. She looked at the metal objects again. "Um, mind if I asked what that is?"
"Oh, this," Aren picked it up, and threw it to the sofa beside her. "I call them 'Patches,' I made them for battles. That one has a heal potion in it, and this one here has a Phoenix Down. They inject them into my blood, when I get knocked out or need a boost. If I can get them to work, that is."
She picked up the device and giggled. "That is so cool!"
"Well, it levels the field a little, maybe enough for me to escape."
Selphie smiled, and sipped at the hot coffee. "Oh, Aren, I heard your song on the local station the other night!"
"No kidding!" said Aren. "Which one'd they play?"
"You've mixed more than one?"
He laughed lightly. "Oh, I don't mix, really. I play it."
"Wow, how cool! What instrument?"
Aren blew on his beverage. "All of them."
Selphie's jaw dropped to the floor, with a bit of an awed grin. "All of them?" she gawked, and planted her hands upon her hips. "You're kidding me."
"Nah," he shook his head. "It's not that hard. What'd they play?"
"No no no!" said Selphie, and raised her index finger. "Wait, I'm still stuck on this 'all of them' bit! So what're we talking here? Guitar? Bass?"
Aren beamed a shy smile, and set his cup down. "Okay, let's see..." he trailed, counting them off on his fingers. "Yeah, guitar and bass, of course. And...keyboards, drums, and I can program most sets of drumtrigger brains. Um, and drum machines, of course, and I run the soundboards for recording, and in a pinch, I suppose I could mix and scratch. Not my thing, though."
She fell back in her chair, and rubbed her forehead. "Whoa! You're, like, a prodigy!"
"Just got an ear for it, that's all. So what'd they play?"
Selphie took another sip of the coffee, and pulled up her blankets some. "They spun 'Fadeaway!' You redid the old Celldweller song, right? It sounded great, I recognized it right away!"
"No kidding!" said Aren, with raised eyebrows. "You listen to the old stuff?"
"Sure! Celldweller's one of my favorites! Let's see...you know of Rune-Seventy?"
Aren nodded astutely. "One of the best! Very good. But, how 'bout the Echoing Green?"
Selphie slapped her knee. "Oh man! Best electropop ever made! Okay, okay, my turn..." She laughed, and pulled on the curls of her brunette hair. "If I've gotta beat the Echoing Green, I'll have to go with...Ethereal!"
Aren stood and adjusted his glasses. "Sure, can't forget Ethereal. Wow, it's hard to find somebody who appreciates the oldschool these days."
"And it's harder to find people who play it!" replied Selphie. "Can I listen to some of your other tracks?"
"Uhm, we'll see."
~
Aren motioned Selphie off the elevator first; she giggled at his politeness. The newly-buffed tile floor showed clear reflections of the two as they strolled down the hall. Metal doors lined the dull orange walls, striped with a wide white band down the center. Florescent lamps blinked brightly, and cast brilliant flashes off the shining floor.
Selphie shielded her eyes. "That is so annoying," she muttered. "That light was like that two days ago, and they still haven't replaced it! Doesn't that bug you?"
Aren shook his head quietly.
A curious glance from Selphie. "Aren, is something wrong?"
"I answered you," he said, rather quickly. "The light doesn't bother me."
"O-oh...okay," whispered Selphie. She still watched him, with a cocked head. "Hey," she finally said with a smile. "I bet it wouldn't but me so bad...if I had some shades!"
She playfully jumped up, and snatched off Aren's black sunglasses. He tumbled backwards, and she ran down the hall with them. "Bet you can't catch me!" she called.
Aren covered his face with his metal-centered palms. "Selphie!" he shouted, "give me those!"
"You want 'em?" laughed Selphie. "Come get 'em!"
He lowered his head. "Selphie, quit it. Give me the glasses."
"Hey, what's wrong?" she frowned, and began walking back.
"Now!" He let go with one hand, revealing a tightly-closed eye. "Throw them to me. Please."
She looked down at them, uncomfortably. "Uh...won't...they break?"
Aren left his arm outstretched. She finally obeyed, tossing them lightly. They fell short of his grasp by a few feet. Selphie took a breath to warn him, but Aren was in motion before she could speak. He jumped out with closed eyes, and caught the fragile shades in time.
Selphie looked on nervously as he fitted them back where they were. "Aren...I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I was just trying...I didn't know it would...that you would..."
"Don't do it again, please." Aren slowly stepped to her side.
Selphie looked around anxiously as they made their way down the hall. She inspected the tiles on the floor, bid hello to the trainee that passed them. But Aren was silent, and it made her more uncomfortable.
Irvine was waiting at Selphie's door. He waved as they approached, some small pieces of paper in his hand. "Hey Selphie! Got your message about the door! Get it open yet?"
"No," Selphie shook her head. "Not yet. Aren says he might be able to force it."
Aren nodded slightly to Irvine, as he and Selphie reached the door. He placed his hand lightly on the keyboard. A high-pitched squeal coarsed through the door. Selphie and Irvine winced and covered their ears, but Aren stood still. And with a sharp crack, the whole board fell off.
Aren tapped the entry button. The door hissed open. "There you go," he said, stepping to the side.
Selphie uncovered her ears. "Thanks," she said feintly.
He gave her a nod, and turned to walk off. But Irvine caught his shoulder. "Hey, lookie what I got!" He held out three rectangular tickets.
"Hey, great," said Aren. "When do we leave?"
Selphie looked to Irvine. "Leave?" she asked quietly.
"This afternoon!" laughed Irvine.
"What?" Aren huffed. "We can't go this afternoon! It's gonna take me all day just to get my files together!"
Irvine shrugged. "Best I could do. Take it or leave it."
Aren gave a nod, and once again started down the hall. "Okay, I'll go get started now, then. Don't forget to invite Selphie!"
As he disappeared down the long hallway, Selphie turned to Irvine, and smiled. "Wanna tell me what's goin' on?" she asked, "or do I even wanna know?"
Irvine smiled, and slapped her on the back. "We're goin' to Trabia, beautiful!"
~
