Chapter Nineteen: Happiness Is A Warm Gun.
She's not a girl who misses much.
She's not acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand,
Like a lizard on the windowpane.
The man in the crowd with the multicoloured mirrors on his hobnailed boots,
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy working overtime.
Happiness is a warm gun.
-The Beatles.
"You look familiar."
Quistis reached up, took the woollen bobble of the balaclava in her hand and pulled it off. She meant to unmask the man in one swift movement, but the balaclava stuck on his ears.
"Ow!"
Quistis ignored him and gave the mask a rather harder tug. It came off and she yanked her hand away, feeling coarse wool at her fingertips. He didn't try and pull it back on, which was just as well, she thought. It would have been rather undignified.
She held the mask tightly in a closed fist and stared at the face underneath, trying to place it.
The leader of the CLA was a small and sweaty man. Small, because his eyes were on exactly the same level as hers. Sweaty, because he looked like he was melting, no doubt a side effect of wearing a knitted wool ski-mask in thirty degree heat.
Quistis narrowed her eyes and treated the man to a ferocious sapphire-blue stare.
She asked "Who are you?" quietly. It seemed to be a day for the revealing of hidden identities.
He said nothing.
The body language and the face rang several bells. Quistis pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to recall the name that went with them.
She could hear Seifer's voice from behind her. "How're you on ammo….is that it? What you going to do, throw the guns at the monsters?" and got a sudden mental image of the sea and a small coffee shop.
It hadn't been that many mornings ago, but it felt like several thousand. Back when Selphie and Rinoa had been visiting and she'd been trying to keep Seifer out of their way. Something to do with trees. The House Of Leaves. That was it.
"There's some election going on in Dollet at the moment. That's what they're all talking about now……"
That was where she recognised the man from. He was a candidate for the Dollet Dukedom Parliament elections.
Quistis sighed and said "You're a politician." with a marked lack of enthusiasm. Politics meant trouble.
He gave an enigmatic smile. "I never said I wasn't."
"Is Asbel whatever your real name?"
"Do you really think I'd be that stupid?"
Quistis gave a contemptuous glance around, taking in the surroundings and the frightened rebels "From the available evidence? Yes!" She sounded angry, and was. It never paid to be confused.
She folded Save The Queen, clipping the whip onto the tiny hooks attached to her belt. "Why are you fighting us?"
The man drew himself up like a bantam rooster spoiling for a fight. Quistis briefly wished that she'd worn boots with heels so she could look down at him. "Because it's the right thing to do!"
"I beg to differ." Her voice was so dry you could have used it as a towel.
"This organisation was just a rabble when I joined!"
Quistis raised her voice, pitching it so that the other rebels wouldn't be able to avoid hearing. She was aware that most of them probably knew the score, but any who didn't might be swayed by her arguments. "So you used your children's rights agenda as a smokescreen for the main issue? That was all a lie? You're not really worried about the kids at all?" She rested her hands on her hips.
Asbel, if that was really his name, looked indignant. "No! The child abuse issue is just one in a number of issues the Gardens will have to tackle sooner or later. But we want the Gardens to be turned over to the military."
"Good luck." Quistis said, cynically. She heard the voices behind her fall silent. People were listening. Her nails tapped quietly on the chains of her whip.
"You could use your knowledge to train the armies and then we wouldn't have to use you for every emergency! It'd be more cost-effective for the governments. The Gardens would lose their edges. Soldiers would have better resources! More money. They'd be able to cope with more situations. Taxes might be lower. It'd be for the good of the people."
"Taxes are never lower. The Gardens pay tax." Quistis pointed out. Part of her took time out to be impressed by the politician's fervour. The rest pointed out acerbically that politicians who used the phrase 'for the good of the people' either didn't know what they were talking about or were trying to get elected.
"Soldiers get disaffected with poor pay and always being second best."
"That's their problem." Quistis said. The average SeeD looked down upon the military, herself included. They were just, she'd decided, not as good.
"People leave the military to sign up for more lucrative positions with the Gardens."
Quistis sighed. "Balamb takes only soldiers below sixteen though. As does Trabia."
"Galbadia work much more closely with the military." her opponent pointed out
"Isn't that what you want?" she answered, thinking I'm not defending Martine
"The Gardens influence politics by just being there. If they're absorbed into the civic structure the leaders of the Gardens lose power which passes onto the governments." He looked vaguely proud.
"We can't." Quistis didn't bother mentioning the real stumbling-block. The Sorceresses.
The first rule of Garden: you don't talk about the sorceresses. The second rule of Garden : you don't talk about the sorceresses. And the third rule is 'always get paid.'
They think we're weird enough without trying to explain Squall's 'fighting across generations theory'. Everybody's forgotten about the wars a little bit.
I'd like to try and keep it that way.
She gave up trying to explain and retorted "We can't lose our neutral status. That's when trouble starts. The wars wouldn't have been as bad if Galbadia hadn't allied themselves with the government to help Ultimecia. Now let's try to join together and find a way out of this mess. Politics don't matter now. You need our help to stay alive."
The politician gave a weary smile. "You don't understand. If I allow you to help I'm betraying my principles. I'll go alone. And whoever wants to come with me can come too."
Everybody began to talk at once.
Seifer joined Quistis, leaving his spare weapons on the table for the rebels to fight over. Hyperion was slung over his shoulder, as usual, and he tapped it restlessly against his collarbone as he moved. It was a habit that had always really annoyed Quistis, and as he turned towards her to slump onto the table it almost took somebody's eye out. He coughed and said "We should go. These guys' re going to learn an important lesson about violence sometime soon."
Quistis raised one eyebrow as he came closer and dropped the skimask on the floor, adjusting her spectacles with her free hand. Her eyes ached, making all her surroundings look slightly blurred. "What kind of lesson about violence?"
"What happens when you're not really good at it." He grinned, moved slightly closer and rested his head in his hand for a second, rubbing at his scar. "You sure you're okay? Only you look really rough."
Quistis got a sudden urge to kiss him in front of everyone, more of a way of picking sides than any demonstration of romance. Instead she smiled slightly. "Thanks."
"What do you think they're going to do?"
She shrugged. "I'll take whoever wants to come with me. Those that don't….much as I hate to say it, they're not my problem."
"Can't you make them?" He didn't sound much bothered either way.
Quistis'eyes unfocused behind her spectacles. "'Rule 435b: A SeeD shall endeavour to protect and defend civilians at all time unless this directly contradicts his or her mission or if the individual/group in question expressly refuses his or her help.' Which they have. Or will, in a few minutes."
"And you always follow the rules." Seifer said. It wasn't a question.
"I can't make them stay."
"Oh, I haven't got a problem with that. It'll draw the monsters off us."
"I know." Quistis said fatalistically. It hurt, sometimes. At times like this, when everything was going to hell in a handbasket and there was nobody else to turn to, she got a little tired of always being the one that had to make decisions. The other ninety-nine per cent of her job she enjoyed.
She said, optimistically "Maybe they'll change their mind. The monsters will be back in a minute." Her SeeD uniform was too heavy for the heat. She touched the SeeD patch on her arm, the black and white twisted sigil of the Gardens surrounded by Balamb's blue lightning. Although she knew that the itching was only due to the side effects of wearing heavy material in a hot climate, it felt like a betrayal.
No. Don't think about that. It can wait.
She raised her head and said brightly "One thing's for sure, it can't get much worse."
Seifer nodded. Quistis noted absently that his stance was half-relaxed, half poised for action with the absolute stillness of a soldier between battles. She was pretty sure that she was the same.
Nia paid no attention to the conversation. Most of the crowd were staring at the SeeD or at their leader, waiting to be told what to do by one or the other. Nobody noticed her as she seated herself at the radio desk and fiddled with the switches.
She'd become aware shortly after the Death Claw had almost gutted Lynch that they'd never get out alive. They needed reinforcements, and she knew one sure-fire way to get them fast. Nia adjusted the radio channel, turned the volume right down and hunted the frequencies until she heard a faint snatch of speech.
"-al--a Garden, oh-two-four-seven-one."
She lowered her voice cautiously and hissed into the mike. "Hello? Galbadia?. I'm-"
A clipped and robotic voice replied. "Hello, this is GalbadiaGarden's answering service. We can't take your call right now, but if you'd like to leave a message we'll get back to you after the tone. Alternatively, if you are calling on business, please press one. If you have a monster problem, please press two. If you are a SeeD, please press three…."
"Hello? Hello? Listen, I have some information, I need to speak to Martine! We've caught Seifer Almasy! We're in the old hospital in Velalisier, in Trabia! Hello?"
"….if you are in a situation of life and death, please press seven.."
Beep…
Nia stabbed button seven with a dirty finger, glancing over one shoulder to make sure nobody had noticed what she was doing.
"Hello. If you would like to leave your name, the nature of your emergency and the number of remaining party members we will rate your call in order of priority and get back to you shortly. Please repeat your number twice."
Beep..
She swallowed and hissed "I'm in the old hospital in Velalisier in Trabia. We've caught Seifer Almasy, well, not so much caught, but he's here, and there's monsters all over and.."
Nia suddenly noticed the other SeeD in the corner, talking to Asbel. She held a black ski mask in one hand. Their leader was unmasked, and they were both having a heated discussion. The conclusion she came up with was not good.
"Ohshit, got to go. The number's 0117 961225. That's oh-one-one-seven nine-six-one-two-two-five. Please help!"
Nia exited the channel and listened as the line went dead. She placed the receiver down on the counter carefully and slipped off the stool. She didn't turn the radio back on, being completely unaware of the previous radio agreement with Garden.
"Can we possibly route the transmission through our own radio system?"
"I'll have to contact my Balamb liason… Xu? Do you copy?"
"I copy, Blue Leader. Tell them if we lose this signal, even for a moment, we move in."
"……That would be acceptable. But as per the contract, if we lose the transmission then we shall be forced to take action."
If she had known, would it have mattered?
Maybe.
Quistis was wrenched from her thoughts by a polite cough. She raised her head.
Asbel, still maskless, was standing a few metres away. Seifer was watching him with a kind of careful aggressive wariness, arms folded across his chest. Hyperion lay on the table behind him. Quistis took this as a sign that Seifer was finally learning some valuable self-control.
She looked the politician right in the eye and said calmly "Have you made your decision?"
"Yes." Asbel's voice wavered for a moment and then firmed. "About twenty people are going to come with me. We'll take the group's weapons and head for the exit."
"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer an escort?" Quistis asked.
"You must understand. Our principles…"
Quistis cut him off briskly. "There's one thing I don't understand. Okay, so you want to abolish the Gardens to pay more attention to the governments. What's in it for you? Not the group, but you, personally?"
"I…"
"What?" Quistis put teeth into her tone." You don't want to explain. Fine, let me do it for you."
"Not here.." Asbel's protest was weak.
Quistis couldn't work out whether he just didn't care any more or whether he'd done the sums as well and worked out that the chances of the escaping to tell tales were dropping by the minute. She nodded and said. "Yes. Where everybody can hear. You're a Dollet politician. I think you must have something to do with the military departments. You said that dissolving the Gardens would take a lot of power from the Headmasters. I think most of it'll go to you. Or at least somebody who you're connected to. That's why you want us gone. Thought I do admit the strength of your convictions surprises me."
Seifer grinned, listening in. "Oh. It's all about power."
That must have stung the man because he waved one hand and said indignantly. "No! It's about what's best for Dollet. What's best for the world."
Quistis almost believed him. It would have been nice to. But just because somebody believed they were telling the truth didn't mean that they weren't lying.
And if by some freak of chance the politician escaped with most of his group, and Quistis's party didn't, the PR would be horrendous. In effect, it would prove that ordinary people, with determination but no magic or training, could defeat the monsters. Which might eventually lead to no more Gardens.
The obviously ruthless solution was to slaughter the lot of them and blame it on the monsters, but Quistis balked at such wholesale massacre. Most of the people present, she guessed, were just along for the ride. They'd had no idea that their plans were about to go quite so badly wrong. "Are your principles worth your life?"
"Yes!"
"Why?" Seifer broke into the conversation. There was a grudging respect in his eyes.
"You really believe that the world will be a better place without us?" Quistis asked, grudgingly admiring of the man's principles if not his logic.
"Yes." Asbel turned to the small group huddled on the other side of the room. A few pushed weapons over to him and the grim-faced group of people following him, wearing expressions of faint guilt. The rest avoided his gaze.
Seifer rolled his eyes and loaded Hyperion, slotting each bullet neatly into place "He's crazy"
Quistis gave the politician a pacifying smile. "I can see your point, though."
She turned to Seifer and whispered quietly, only half-joking: "Certainly a lot of people believe the world would be a better place without you."
Seifer shrugged. "But not you?" It was more of a question than a statement.
"No."
"That's all right then."
They both watched as the two groups pulled away from each other. To Quistis' eyes they were indistinguishable, except the leavers were smaller in number and better armed. Some people hugged or kissed. She wondered bitterly if they really knew what they were up against, if anybody in the group had even seen a monster, yet alone fought one. Raising her voice she tried one desperate, last appeal "If you're scared of us: we kill, but they can kill you worse. Don't do it."
Nobody paid any attention. Quistis noticed both the religious fanatic and the policeman Lynch join Asbel's group, obviously preferring the devil they didn't know. Watching, she bit her lip as the first person reached for the door handle.
There was a sudden cry. "Wait!"
The voice was thin, desperate and familiar.
"What?" Asbel asked sharply.
"I've found a way to get more soldiers!" It was Nia, the small, comfortable woman that Seifer had been holding as a hostage. She was standing in the middle of Asbel;s group, her voice shaking. "I called the Galbadians. They're coming now."
Quistis winced. Her hand reached up to rub at the bridge of her nose, but with great self-control, she kept quiet.
Seifer shrugged with the expression of somebody who had long ago burned all his boats. "Oh, good. Backup."
"You'll get what you deserve. Martine wants you dead!"
A second shrug. "Eventually."
The small woman stared at him, speechless. Her face wore an expression of pure hate. On one hand, Quistis couldn't blame her. On the other, well, Quistis had been spending all her holiday carefully not calling Garden. It would be a shame if all that restraint was wasted.
Besides, there were several facts that the small woman probably didn't know about the Gardens, which probably explained why Seifer wasn't much bothered. For starters, the whole "saw him die" thing. Quistis cleared her throat and threw in her two cents. "Even if they believe you, they probably won't get here in time. And even if they do they won't be packing for monsters."
Nia stared at her incredulously. "So you're going to do nothing?"
"No I'm going to do what we just planned. Me and Seifer are going to get out. If anybody wants to come, fine. If we get a large group we'll have to stop at your weapons room on the way out to arm everybody." She swallowed. "If you don't, then it's your choice. But don't bank on the Galbadians coming to save you. That's all."
Seifer looked supremely unconcerned. He spoke loudly, obviously intending to be overheard. "They won't believe her. Pity. We need the backup."
"I'll call Balamb!" Nia threatened.
Seifer reached behind him and picked up Hyperion. "Hyne's sake, I said I was going back. Quistis, why don't you call-" He paused, glancing around "Hey, Quis, did you hear that?"
There was a descending whine as around them the building's remaining power cycled down. The lights flickered madly and faded out, leaving everybody staring round at each other in the suddenly dim light.
"Weren't you going to go back to Balamb anyway?" Quistis said brightly. "When we get out?"
"Okay"
It was the special Seifer okay meaning 'I'll say yes right now, but I'm going to do what the fuck I like anyway'. Quistis took it as assent. She stood up. "They're leaving."
Seifer got up and prowled halfway to the door, big and graceful, but undecided, as if he'd forgotten something but couldn't remember what it was. Asbel faced him, unintimidated, with a kind of dignity. Quistis joined them.
"We're going now" the politician said. A small sea of faces backed him up. Quistis did a quick head-count, surprised at the number of people who had elected to follow their leader. It came to about half and half.
"Are you sure?"
"We're sure." Pale faces nodded grimly behind him.
Quistis would have loved to counter with 'will you still be sure thirty minutes later, when sometime nasty's snacking on your intestines and you're still only a hundred metres away from where you started' but resisted the temptation. It seemed both inadequate and lame to wish them good luck, but she did it anyway. "Hope you make it."
Asbel nodded and made for the second door. It was the exit Quistis would have chosen. After all, they both knew that there was a Death Claw waiting outside the other one, and there was no sense in borrowing trouble.
The remaining rebels watched in a slightly shamefaced manner as their colleagues followed him out.
The door closed behind them. To Quistis's surprise there were no screams or snarls or gunfire. Just the noises of people's feet tramping away down the corridors and then a long silence that went on and on.
Six hundred miles away: the outskirts of Caraway (formerly DelingCity), Galbadia….
Three SeeDs wandered through the endless and confusing corridors of Galbadia Garden. Technically they were supposed to be manning the emergency lines, but it was three a.m Galbadia time and a quiet time for missions. Two were eating doughnuts and the third was half way through a hotdog, all unaware that their night was just about to get marginally more interesting.
They slowed as they reached their tiny shared office, and then speeded up a tinny beep became audible through the thin plywood door. "Isn't that-"
"…..the answering machine!"
The SeeDs broke into a run, showering powdered sugar down their uniforms. The first one threw open the door. The last of them slipped over with a scream on the remnants of their latest game of indoor golf as the red button on the answerphone blinked like a small and angry red eye. Somebody pressed the button on the phone and they all listened to the garbled message.
"….-in Trabia! We've caught Seifer Almasy…..ot so much caught, but…..ere, and …umber oh-one-one-seven nine-six-one-two-two-five. Please help!"
The SeeDs looked at each other. One of them finally shrugged and stabbed the delete key."
"Think it's true?"
"How can it be? The bastard's dead. You heard Rahel."
"Just some crank caller."
"Put the answerphone back on. Who's in on poker?"
Meanwhile, back in Velalisier…..
Quistis swallowed and shouldered her rucksack. She looked at the sea of expectant faces surrounding her and came to the end of her motivational speech. "Remember-we're hunting them. They're not hunting you. Don't forget. Let's move out."
There was a mutter of quiet conversation from around her. A growl came from the room's second door. The handle rattled noisily as something heavy thumped against the other side.
"Go! Seifer, you're with me up front. We'll clear the corridors for the rebels until we can pick up more weapons. Everybody else, stay alert. Ready?"
There was a general murmur that indicated that readiness might indeed be in order. Seifer unpeeled himself from the wall he was currently slouching against and joined Quistis. He sniggered. "Liked your little call to arms."
"Shut up." Quistis opened the nearest door and gave the corridor a cautious glance. It was empty.
Seifer ignored her. "You should have made one to the other lot. Two words: 'Die soon'"
Quistis didn't bother to dignify his comment with a reply. She pointed down the corridor. "Can you see anything out there?"
"Looks clear…..wait. Grat at twelve o' clock. But that's all. Shouldn't be a problem."
"That's hours away." one of the rebels said plaintively.
"I see it. Right. The sooner we go the less time there is for the monsters to regroup." Quistis said. She took a deep breath and started down the hallway. Seifer hooked the blunt side of Hyperion over his shoulder and followed, tapping the gunblade absently against his collar bone. The rebels followed him as she carefully kept the Grat in view.
The vegetable-like monster was moving slowly down the corridor towards them all, snarling as it heard the sound of approaching people. Quistis sent Save The Queen slashing towards it. "Mine"
The whip curled through the air with a noise like ripping silk. Quistis had calculated perfectly. It laced round all four of the monsters tentacles in a neat arc, pinning them together like the string round a bouquet of flowers. Seifer jumped into the battle, slicing away two of the thick tentacles with surgical precision so that the freed lash of Quistis's whip tightened round the remaining tentacles, cutting viciously into flesh. She pulled until her knuckles went white and her joints ached, hands slipping on the laced leather of the whip handle. Above the whip's binding, Grat tentacles waved wildly.
Seifer swung at them and missed. "Keep it still, for fuck's sake!"
The Grat snarled and spat poison. Seifer swung at the tentacles for the second time and missed again as Quistis's hands started to slip. She screamed "Hurry up!"
Seifer aimed another swipe at the Grat's body. "I'm trying!" This one bit home and the Grat roared, badly wounded, but not dead.
Quistis dropped Save The Queen and made a complicated gesture with her free hand. "Firaga."
Seifer had the sense to move back slightly as a column of bright flame burst from her fingertips illuminating the dingy corridor like strobe lighting.
Quistis opened her eyes.
Damn. Still there.
The Grat looked surprised, burped, and exploded.
Quistis closed her eyes again just in time. She felt warmth and wetness spatter across her face as pieces of exploded mutant plant rained liberally down from the ceiling.
"Niiice" Seifer flicked a piece of Grat skin from his T shirt.
"At least the corridor's pretty narrow, so they can only come to us head –on. That's a plus." Quistis said hopefully. She shaded her eyes, staring down the dim hallway. Nothing moved. The air stank of charred monster flesh and the ozone aftertaste of powerful battle magic.
Seifer leant on the wall beside her, gunblade drawn. He glanced down at the mess of ichor and monster blood decorating the blade, wiping it on his trouser leg with an expression of mild distaste. If anything, it made the blade slightly dirtier than before.
Quistis turned behind her as the nearest civilian caught up with them. "The way's clear for the time being. We move-"
There was a scream and a crash from further down the hallway as most of the wall and two of the rebels disappeared in a cloud of plasterboard dust.
"….on." Quistis finished her sentence.
Seifer punched the wall and then inspected his knuckles with interest. The blow left a faint but discernable dent in the plasterboard. "Walls? You call these walls? Whoever built this hospital should have been shot."
"You can do it later. I think somebody needs saving." Quistis said.
In fact the surrounding rebels had managed to vanquish the monster by the time they go there, but it did nothing for morale.
Quistis raised her eyes to the grubby plastic tiles as if expecting divine intervention. They were marked with water from leaking pipes and trailed wiring. "What about the ceiling?"
"That's okay" the nearest person said. "The floors were built to hold medical equipment. Nothing's going to break through that" he pointed at the ceiling, "short of a guided missile."
"They just look like polystyrene tiles." Quistis said.
"They are. There's a gap above them and above that it's just steel girders and concrete slabs. And the gap's small, so not much can fit in."
"Wait a minute." Seifer said.
"What?"
"On my way here I saw footprints." Seifer said. He gestured at the marks their own feet had left "…in the dust. And then they just stopped. Like something had just pulled them up into the ceiling."
"Oh, that. I forgot about that."
Quistis was puzzled "Forgot about what?"
The rebel delved into a capacious trouser pocket and pulled out a can. It was matt white and looked like a spraypainting canister with no label. "Go on, try it." he said, and smiled. He looked about seventeen, with painfully obvious ginger hair.
Quistis weighed the canister thoughtfully in her hand. She checked the base for signs of the bottom being levered off. It didn't rattle when she shook it and felt light, too light to hold mechanical parts. Cautiously, she pointed it in the direction of the floor and pressed the trigger. All that happened was that a thin white mist sprayed out, smelling vaguely like disinfectant. It settled in a velvety thick layer on the floor and Quistis' boots.
Seifer bent down and traced a finger through the spray, sniffed it cautiously and then wiped his hand absently on Quistis's top. She gave him an evil look, rubbing her boots clean on the back of her tights.
Seifer ignored her "That's a bit paranoid."
Quistis shook the can, which rattled. "What is it?"
"Dust." the rebel said gleefully.
Quistis shook the can again. "You're kidding me."
"No. Spray-on dust. So nobody can see our footsteps."
Seifer gave the young rebel an approving look. "That's really paranoid."
"It's a pity it's no good for monsters." Quistis said. "They'd track the scent." She looked around as the party reached a crossroads and asked. "Which way?"
The ginger haired cadet pointed straight on, gulped and stopped.
Looking around, Quistis saw the reason why. At first the three intersecting corridors appeared just as dark and dingy as the rest. They looked normal until you saw something moving in the darkness, and looked closer. Merging with the shadows, the floor appeared to be gently undulating. She caught glimpses of narrowed, slitlike eyes and jagged claws.
Creeps, and closing fast.
Quistis realised with a sinking feeling that the rebels had followed her right into the intersection. She pitched her voice to combat volume and screamed "Get together!"
The rebel responded with predictable disorganisation. Some people panicked and shied away from the monsters. Some dropped into a close approximation of combat stances. Others made for Quistis. Several milled around. One said "What?" loudly.
Quistis gritted her teeth and closed with the nearest Creep, whose skeletal body didn't seem to feel the slashes of Save The Queen. Quistis flicked the whip around in a complicated figure-of-eight pattern in the confined space and tried again with no luck.
She considered all the options, battle plans crystallising in her mind fast as lightning
One: Shiva.
Quistis dared not risk drawing with nobody for cover, and Seifer was too far away for backup, hacking at something on the floor with all the finesse of a bulldozer.
She sighed: Oh, screw it…andgrabbed the shoulder of the nearest rebel. "Cover me?"
The boy's eyes rolled madly in his head, face turned so pale that his freckles stood out painfully. "How!"
Quistis delved deep down inside herself, feeling the icy kiss of Shiva spread out along her veins. "You've got no weapons?"
He shook his head in confusion. Quistis passed him the handle of Save The Queen with fingers grown suddenly numb from cold. Her breath clouded in the air as the sounds of shattering ice dulled her hearing. "Just keep them away!"
She summoned. The corridor blanked out in a swirl of pale ice crystals, stripes of yellow and blue flashing in a sleek whirl of colour.
It could have been several hours or only seconds later that Quistis reopened her eyes. Blond hair tattered around her field of vision as she fought to focus. It was hot, and suffocatingly close and she smelt horribly of Grat innards.
Gathering her thoughts, she looked around, noticing with pleasure that the Creeps in front of her were lightly rimed with a thin layer of frost. As she watched a few shook themselves like dogs, shedding frost like dandruff. A couple didn't move, the cold too much for their primitive nervous systems to cope with.
The cadet to whom she'd lent her whip was nowhere to be seen.
Somebody screamed, behind her.
Quistis swung round. The corridor behind her was a frantic melee of grappling bodies, the rebels clumping like sour milk, frantically using what little weapons they possessed to slash and hack at the monsters. She caught up with the nearest group. One of the rebels looked stunned, smoking gently from the aftereffects of some kind of Thunder variant. Quistis cast a Curaga without even thinking, the magic flowing from her fingertips in a swift cool rush. She found the boy to whom she'd lent Save The Queen in the melee and gently took her whip from his hand.
"There's too many!" someone else screamed.
And there was. Quistis frantically searched for an exit, some way out of the lethal crossway they'd found themselves in. Coming up with nothing, she decided to take the party further on. At least in the hallway there were only two ways for monsters to attack.
She pitched her voice into battle mode, a cut-crystal scream that would have got a corpse up and walking. "Move!"
Thankfully no such motivation was needed. Everybody seemed to be alive. She couldn't help thinking that maybe life would have been easier for her if maybe one of two of the more expendable rebels hadn't made it. Quistis squashed the thought almost immediately. It was worthy of Seifer at his most survivalist.
Quistis cleared her throat and shouted again. "Move!" When everybody was on their feet and walking she stayed where she was, letting the crowd break and reform around her, an obstinate pebble. An idea was beginning to form in her mind and if she thought too much about it neither her or anybody else was going to go through with it.
Later she would admit that although it was what she would have done with any of the other SeeDs, it was not particularly the right tactic for this specific situation.
After all, what was the use of having three GFs if you could use only two of them?
She looked frantically around for Seifer. Junctioning Bahamut to one of the civilians would be suicide. GFs in the hands of untrained personnel could be lethal. The best case scenario led to the death of the civilian with the probable loss of the GF. The worse case scenario was something she didn't even want to think about.
"Hey, Seifer?"
He shoved a trailing rebel between the shoulderblades. "Yeah?"
"I'm going to give you Bahamut. We need more firepower."
Seifer shouted "Hang on…" If she'd given him time to finish it she guessed that the complete sentence would have gone something like "Hang on a minute. I don't want a damn GF. I'm doing fine on my own.", maybe with a few extra swearwords thrown in for good measure depending on how stressed he was feeling
Quistis pretended not to hear. She slapped one hand solidly on Seifer's right shoulder. Because he had Hyperion in his right hand, it took him a few seconds to reach across his body to her and a few seconds was all she needed. His body was warm under her hand.
"Transfer junction: Bahamut"
The wrench was too sudden for pain. Shiva's silvery laughter echoed in the space between her ears as Bahamut exited with a snarl. The impact snapped her Quistis's eyes open as a wave of relief washed through her body, relaxing muscles that she hadn't even been aware she was tensing. Siren's song became an exultant hymn.
Seifer's pupils dilated into black holes. He dropped Hyperion with a clang.
Quistis almost felt the dragon GF leaving with an arrogant swish of his tail that sent her thoughts reeling. She forgot about the rebels and the mission in one wave of pure exhaustion and sagged forwards, for once in her life expecting somebody to catch her. The heels of her hands hit cold plasterboard instead of warm flesh.
Seifer ducked, grabbed Hyperion with his left hand and gave her a look of pure contempt. He turned from her without a word and stalked off to catch up with the rebels flicking the gunblade from left to right hand automatically as he went.
Quistis stared after him helplessly, feeling despite herself that she'd suddenly done something very wrong.
It's the logical thing to do, she told herself. He'll get over it.
There was nowhere else to go, so Quistis followed, boots clicking on the lino. She caught up with the group just in time to see Seifer shoot the lock off a door. The rebels clustered inside. She was gratified to see that some, at least were moving with more confidence. They'd fought, and lived. Sometimes that was all that could be expected.
Quistis organised a rear guard, all jumpy in the aftermath of their last battle, and set them defending the entrance. Once she was sure that they were secure for at least a few minutes, she looked around for Seifer.
He was seated in the darkest corner, glowering malevolently at everybody. The room had been a store cupboard at some point and the only light came from a grimy window high up in one wall. Quistis tried not to think about night time, tried not to think about the dark and the monsters and a steadily diminishing supply of spells.
"I'm sorry."
Seifer stood up, sliding his back up the wall and snarled "Fuck you."
Quistis held up both hands in a conciliatory gesture. She'd expected some kind of reaction, but nothing quite as extreme. "Calm down. We don't need this right now."
He turned on her, one hand splayed out across the side of his head as if it hurt. It probably does, Quistis thought with a trace of humour. He just had a forty foot dragon shoehorned in there after all.
"Couldn't you just have asked?"
"I did." Quistis said. It didn't help that the relief of getting Bahamut out of her head was so strong that she had to fight to keep a grin off her face.
"I said no. Don't you think I've got enough shit in my head without this? I don't like GFs. You know that. Fuck."
He made a halfhearted grab for her wrist. Quistis moved smoothly out of his way, automatically throwing up her strongest magical barriers in a reflex reaction. She rested her hands on her hips. "I need you to have a GF to back me up. People are dying."
"They asked for it."
"They're people. I feel sorry for them."
"Don't worry. It'll pass." Seifer said with black humour. "They make mistakes. They're civilians. They walk through doors without looking through them first and then don't know what monsters are like. We're both going to get killed just because they're too weak to defend themselves. Forget about getting paid, they're not even going to be grateful."
Quistis sent up a brief prayer to Hyne that no rebels were close enough to hear. "So what? They're civilians. But that doesn't mean they haven't got a right to live and just because they were planning to nuke Garden certainly doesn't mean we can just leave them to die. For Hyne's sake don't you think you've got enough on your conscience? How can you live with that?"
Seifer snarled "I can live with that. Because if we stay here all of us are going to kick it. See, that's what I like about you. At least you assume I have a conscience. But you'll bust a gut to prove them wrong."
"Think of it as a practical demonstration."
Seifer looked unimpressed. "You want to die for them?"
"No. But I'll live. Are you too much of a coward to fight them?" She didn't think that her desperate stab at reverse psychology would work, and it didn't
"That's not going to work, Quistis. We'll never keep all the monsters off. I can't think straight. You always think you know best."
"You can look after yourself. I want you to look after these people."
"There's no way to defend that many people."
Quistis's hand went to Save The Queen, hooked back on her belt. "Some of them have weapons. We can fight."
"I haven't got a problem with the fighting. But when the Galbadians come, I'm off."
"You said you'd come back to Garden" Quistis pointed out.
"I forgot about that.." Seifer said. He seemed thoughtful. "I'm not promising anything."
"You've got to stop running sometime. And your track record of making amazingly important decisions is patchy to say the least. Especially ones involving world domination or feeding exes to sorceresses."
"Why don't you trust me to do anything apart from look after myself?"
"Because I've only seen you look after yourself!"
"I resurrected you in Trabia! You always think that you're the only person who knows what to do."
"I am usually the-"
Seifer didn't let her finish. "Didn't you ever think that there's a reason I don't use GFs?"
"I would have done the same with any of the other SeeDs!"
"I'm not a SeeD."
"Pity. It's obvious that you haven't got the discipline to handle a GF. I should have kept it." Quistis said witheringly.
Seifer turned away. "Fine. Let's get out of here. We're wasting time." He elbowed through the rebels, who had gathered in a huddled crowd by the door, perching on a pile of junked hospital beds like particularly bedraggled sparrows. "Come on, move your asses. Get going!"
At that moment, Quistis would have pitied anybody who got in Seifer's way. He slammed back the door and stalked out, boots thudding on the worn lino like he was trying to wake the dead. Quistis just hoped that he was angry enough not to get himself killed. She didn't doubt it.
By the time she'd chivvied the rebels together and arranged them into some semblance or order he was leaning against the wall outside, wearing an expression like a thundercloud and trying to look like he knew which way to go. Several Creeps lay in ragged and extremely dead piles at his feet.
Quistis almost sympathised. Not having anywhere to go and a whole load of people to look after made storming off pretty redundant. It was sheer luck that Seifer's favourite letting off steam activity just happened to be killing things.
She gestured at the Creeps. "You killed them?"
"One got away."
"I'm surprised."
"I've only got one pair of hands."
Somebody tugged at Quistis's sleeve. "Are they going to come through the walls again?"
Quistis rapped on the nearest wall with her knuckles. It sounded hollow. Thin plasterboard glowed faintly in the dim light.
Walls….
Gears began to click into place in her finely tuned brain. "Which way's the weapons room?"
The rebel pointed wordlessly in a direction at forty five degrees to the corridor they were following. Quistis resisted the temptation to ask if his mother knew he was out. He looked barely old enough to be drinking.
"Seifer, can you cut through the walls?"
He looked at her as if she was several screws sort of a revolver. "You what?"
"Can you cut. Through. The walls?" It was just crazy enough to work.
Seifer kicked at the plasterboard, which dented. He looked slightly interested, in an I'm-still-pissed-at-you-mind kind of way. "I might be able to."
"Try. Please?"
Seifer shrugged, raised Hyperion and took a swing at the nearest wall. The dark blade of the weapon bit deeply. He yanked it out in a shower of pale plaster and tried again, using the weight of the weapon for leverage to hack away at the plywood struts linking the plasterboard shells together. Quistis waited impatiently. Her head was beginning to hurt, a slow, deep ache that niggled at the base of her skull. "It's still taking too long."
"Well, I'm sorry." He sounded anything but.
"Oh, get out the way." Quistis snapped. The stress was beginning to get to her, presenting as a tendency to say whatever popped up in her head.
"I can do it."
Sawdust joined the plaster. Quistis coughed and covered her mouth ostentatiously. "I'll make you a deal. I blast us through and you can kill whatever's on the other side. Deal?"
She took another shrug as assent and looped the whip back through her belt, glancing round to check whether or not everybody was following. They were.
Seifer stepped back and scowled. He raised his free hand to scratch at his scar, frowning. Quistis wondered vaguely if it itched.
"Everybody get back." She rapped out the command, not looking to see if anybody obeyed. It was beginning to get harder to draw magic as exhaustion set in. It was more difficult to concentrate. Ozone prickled in her nostrils as her hands moved in the old familiar gestures, channelling the stored magic from her brain to her fingers. It blasted into the corridor like a burning flower. Plasterboard, she discovered, ignited well.
As the last fragments of wall crumbled to the floor she let go of the fading remnants of the spell with a gasp and gestured Seifer forwards. He climbed through, using Hyperion as a stick to balance.
"Anything there?" Quistis called, trying to keep any trace of worry from her voice.
"Nah. Just corridors and cobwebs."
"No monsters?"
"No" He sounded faintly puzzled, or at least slightly put out. "Maybe they're all snacking on the other lot."
Quistis motioned to the rebels to start filing though the hole. "Maybe." She hoped so.
It was only luck that nobody had got themselves killed.
They were half way down the next corridor before their luck finally ran out. It was ten minutes later. Quistis had just finished burning through yet another wall and was beginning to feel slightly like a human welding torch. Her SeeD uniform was speckled with tiny holes from falling ash, the taste of cheap plaster in her mouth. It felt like somebody had drained all of the energy out of her, which was about right. It was getting increasingly difficult to even form the intricate energy-channeling hand movements that she used to focus her mind. Her hands and feet were leaden weights. Even Seifer was beginning to shoot her worried looks out of the corner of his eye, which Quistis took to mean that she must look really rough. He always looked away quickly, to let her know that he was still pissed, but it was nice to know that he was bothered.
"Just two to go." the young rebel said cheerfully. He probably meant it to be encouraging, but the thought of having to magic her way through two more walls made Quistis want to scream. It was taking her longer and longer to recover. Seifer was out of Firas, and she was exhausted.
She sighed. "Give me a few minutes to catch my breath." and leant against the thin wall, next to her latest hole. The plasterboard was almost soft. It vibrated softly against her cheek. Irritated, she leant her head backwards, staring at the ceiling tiles. Tiny particles of polystyrene drifted down from the roof and Quistis brushed them from her spectacles.
A sudden thought stayed her hand in mid-brush. Careless fingerprints smeared her glasses, but she hardly noticed.
The ceiling was shaking. As were the walls.
Something was coming. It sounded like a large something.
"Oh, damn. " Quistis turned her head, seeking out a dim shape in the gloom.
Seifer groaned from her left. "Shit. Creeps again, six 'o clock."
"Snow Lion, dead on twelve noon."
"Okay, you got me." He sounded tired, though not as bad as she felt. "You win"
Quistis fought to focus. "No, really." Florescent spots floated in front of her eyes, the lion's shaggy mane just visible in the dark. The monster moved with none of the grace or beauty of a real lion. Lions slunk or stalked. The monster dragged itself along towards its target and wouldn't stop until if it was dead or it had caught whatever it was chasing. There were stories of Snow Lions tracking prey patiently for months.
Quistis sighed wholeheartedly. It wasn't fair. She was tired. It'd be fine with half an hour's uninterrupted rest and something to eat to boost glucose and sodium levels, but she wasn't going to get anything like that.
She peeled herself off the wall awkwardly and faced the monster.
Seifer pushed through the crowd, shouting at the rebels to form a line and face the Creeps and then stopped as he took in the sheer bulk of the lion.
"Oh shit."
Quistis unhooked Save The Queen and whirled the whip round her head a few times to work up momentum. It didn't really work, because the corridor was way too narrow. The blow she'd meant to take out one of the monster's small and beady eyes missed completely. The Snow Lion snapped its head, rotating its stumpy neck, and hooked the tip of the lash neatly behind one canine. It growled and tore at the leather, throwing Quistis to one side of the corridor. The walls didn't feel so soft now. She obstinately refused to let go, wrenching desperately at the handle with stiff fingers.
Seifer darted in, slashing at the monster's head with Hyperion. Blue blood oozed from the shallow wounds and then stopped. The Lion growled and snapped its head again. It was monstrously ugly, nothing lionish about it. It lowered its head and roared. The rebels had wisely decided to close with the Creeps, and the noise was indescribable.
The roaring turned to a low growl as a blue glow surrounded the creature.
Quistis felt magic in the air and cast Shell on herself automatically. The effort turned her limbs to stone and made holding onto Save The Queen even harder.
The monster's head swung from her to Seifer. It would cast in seconds. She wouldn't be able to junction Shiva in time, they were too tired, her and the GF both……
Quistis screamed at him "Seifer!You've got a GF now! Use the damn thing!"
Seifer met her eyes and nodded. He looked very determined. Quistis wrenched at the whip, which-miracles of miracles-came free. She scrambled backwards into the pack of rebels, retreating to give Seifer room to summon, and shouting "Duck!"
"Where?"
"Down, idiots!" Quistis snapped. She suited her actions to her words, reached for the collar of the nearest recruit and dragged him down too. It was the teenager who had pointed the way to the weapons room earlier, looking rather the worse for wear in blood-streaked clothes. He looked vaguely gratified to be wrestled to the floor by an attractive blond woman.
The rest of the group lowered themselves to the floor at various speeds. Someone asked irritably, "What is it?"
Seifer junctioned.
To Quistis' surprise Bahamut came easily to his hands in the space of two slow heartbeats. She pressed her body to the wall to give him space, one arm round the smaller woman's shoulder as the floor beneath their feet glistened and disappeared.
A couple of the rebels glanced down with frightened expressions. Quistis didn't have the breath to reassure them.
The corridor blanked out into black night, jewelled with faint constellations of stars.
There was a scream as someone fell over someone else in the dark, and a snarl from up ahead before the lights came back on. The floor glowed with pale hazy clouds. A moon appeared somewhere over Quistis' left shoulder, and she felt her pupils contract painfully in its light.
The rebels turned as one person and stared at it disbelievingly
Thankfully the Snow Lion seemed to be just as hypnotised by the sudden appearance of the indoor sky. It shook its shaggy head from side to side and growled gently.
A dark shadow manifested under the cloud, at ankle height.
There was a susurrus of whispered comments as everyone else began to pick up on it. The few people still standing lifted their feet carefully with a caution that almost made her laugh.
A bluish grey fin broke the surface of the rippling cloud and then slid under with a rolling motion like a shark. The clouds thickened and rose, higher and higher, to knee level and then waist height, multiplying until they shrouded the entire hallway in a thick and impenetrable mist.
A growling rumble reverberated through the walls. The moon was obscured, glowing hazily through the veiling cloud. Quistis reached out and felt cold pale droplets condense on her skin. She looked up just as the clouds faded and came to a rest in the ceiling, where they obscured the tiles. A pale glow illuminated the cloud but the moon had vanished. She could see Seifer's tall silhouette quite clearly.
A dragon barrelled down from the clouds raising a wind that whipped at peoples' clothing. It spread its wings with a loud crack, exposing claret-dark linings, and threw back its spiked and scaled head, glaring down with eyes as green as its summoner. Its body was like a crocodile's, thick and powerful and armoured all over with razored scales.
It roared, coughed harshly, and gouted grey smoke from its nostrils.
The effect was slightly spoiled by the fact that, owing to the limitations of the enclosed space, it was about three feet long
Quistis raised her voice, knowing what was coming. "When I say close your eyes, everybody… "
"What?"
"Now!"
The dragon roared and vomited blue flame. Quistis snapped her own eyes closed just in time. The glare left glowing afterimages burned on the inside of her retinas, floor cool against her hands. Pressed against her side the boy's shivering body was faintly and comfortingly warm.
There was a sudden stink of charred flesh, carried on a strong wind that whipped at her clothes and left behind the smell of fresh midnight air.
She opened her eyes. The dragon had vanished
The Snow Lion stood as if poleaxed. It blinked, roared, and then very slowly fell over.
There was a mutual gasp.
Quistis crawled to hands and knees, shaking dust from her hair "Is everybody okay?"
There was a chorus of replies on the theme of 'yes.'
She stood up, shakily, and made her way to Seifer, who was standing in the middle of the hall stock still and wearing a stunned expression. She gave his shoulder a gentle shake.
"Okay?"
Seifer seemed to rouse. His eyes flickered and then focused. "That wasn't bad."
"I'm pleased."
"No. It felt too good. That's not right. It shouldn't….." He paused and seemed to take in his surroundings for the first time. "Shit, I'm not making sense."
Quistis didn't let go. "You can make sense later. Just keep using it."
The speed surprised her slightly. From the looks of it Seifer and Bahamut were highly compatible, which made sense. One was an arrogant touchy bastard with a deep contempt for most humans, and the other was a dragon.
Seifer shook his head silently, ignoring a rebel who walked up to join them. "Excuse me………someone's not well."
There was a man crouched on the floor at the side of the corridor. Quistis and Seifer exchanged a look.
Seifer took up point, leaving the rest of the rebels to their own devices for a minute. Quistis knelt down beside the man, listening to the deep growl and roar as Seifer cast Bahamut from further up the halls.
She asked "Are you all right?" and realised in that split second that he wasn't and that there probably wasn't anything she could do to make him better.
He didn't even look at her. His arms were clenched round his belly, very still but his feet and hands moved in tiny jerky movements, constantly. Pain.
Quistis touched his shoulder once and dark startled eyes glanced up from a face as white as paper. His skin was pale and sweaty and the freckles on it stood out sharply like spilled pepper.
"I'm…" he choked.
One hand rose and gripped Quistis' with a force that ground the bones of her knuckles together. There was a hot heavy metallic smell to the air. His clothes were soaked with blood. A trickle ran down from the corner of his mouth to pool and clot on the cloth of his shirt. He coughed, and looked up at Quistis with pleading eyes.
Shit.
Quistis tried to fake a don't-worry-you're-going-to-be-all-right smile, and failed miserably.
A Curaga or Full-Life could close up the wounds but there was no spell or item in the world to replace the man's blood or lessen infection.
With a full complement of medical support magic and intensive medical within an hour, there might be some hope. But Quistis' Curagas were running low and she knew Seifer wasn't much better off. And ironically, since they were in one hell of a large hospital, there was next to no chance of prompt medical treatment in time.
There was no need to say what they both knew, but she called Seifer over anyway, just in case he'd picked up something she didn't know about.
"Can you…?"
Seifer glanced over her shoulder and shook his head. An unspoken comment passed between them that a watcher could only have guessed at
He's finished.
I know.
The Creeps advanced inexorably, an undulating carpet of black shadowlike bodies whispering over the floor towards them. Quistis glanced round behind her. The corridor was a tangle of fighting bodies, rebels and monsters grappling. It was hard to say who was coming out on top.
"Get them out of here."
"You're?" His tone was matter of fact, slightly guarded as if there was an unpleasant job that needed to be carried out that he wasn't particularly keen to do. Quistis wasn't keen to have him do it, come to that. The rebels were wary enough of Seifer as it was, plus his version of mercy was more along the lines of "I'm sorry, he isn't going to make it" sound of loud gunshot that she liked.
"Yes. I need your knife." She held out her free hand without looking as Seifer flipped his dagger into the air, caught it by the flat of its blade and offered it to Quistis, hilt-first. She wiped strands of sweaty blood-streaked hair from her face with hands that trembled.
"Take them back. I'll be along in a minute."
Seifer nodded curtly, bent towards Quistis and kissed her quickly. There was the click of teeth meeting. A gesture of trust, maybe, and a statement. We're alive.
He turned, whispered a few words under his breath and shot off a ball of fire in the general direction of the Creeps. Most made way for the inferno, slithering agilely out of its path with a whisper like dry leaves. Those that didn't curled to ash with a faint high pitched scream.
The remaining monsters snarled as their companions flaked into billows of charred oily-smelling dust, but they seemed disinclined to come closer.
"That should hold them long enough."
He clapped Quistis on the shoulder awkwardly and then left, jogging up along the corridor and breaking into a run as he rounded the corner.
She glanced behind her again, listening as the noise of shouts and gunfire faded for a second and then resumed, louder than before.
The man coughed dryly, eyes downcast like a sick dog. Quistis moved her hand behind her back and placed the knife quietly on the floor at her feet. She kept one eye on the Creeps and gently prised the young man's left hand from around his wound. It wasn't difficult, because he was weak with pain and shock, which allowed Quistis to keep tight hold of his right palm and hoping that the human contact would grant him at least some measure of relief.
Close up, it looked worse. Something, Creeps maybe or another monster, earlier on, had slashed a neat line across his abdomen, slicing through muscle and flesh with surgical precision in a long smooth-edged cut that reached from one side of his belly to the other. From the look of it, the slash had severed several veins.
She couldn't begin to guess how long he might have been sitting on the floor, lost in the fighting, but his skin had the pallor of shock, his breathing shallow and fast as his body tried vainly to compensate for the several litres of blood that decorated the floor for a foot around. Quistis had read once that the human body contained eight pints of blood. It looked like more.
The Creeps stayed back, torn between the scent of fresh blood and the memory of Bahamut's blue fire.
Quistis felt the weight of responsibility descend slowly onto her shoulders with the force of several tons of lead.
The man gave a long, shuddering sigh and slumped down to the floor, letting out a small groan as his back slid down the floor. He turned his head towards her and said nothing.
The words of her first Balamb instructor came back to her in a rush. Sometimes it's the only thing you can do..
I have to give him the choice…If it was me..
She squeezed his hand.
"You're badly hurt. I can't heal you. Do you want me to try and help you to safety?"
She didn't add that the monsters would get both of them if she tried. If she'd thought that the man could stand lifting, she'd have got Seifer to help.
Silence.
Quistis took this rather pragmatically as assent, slid one arm behind his back, and lifted.
The man grunted and then cried out in a voice that sounded inhuman and strangely guttural.
This isn't going to work.
"Do you want me to…I can help you."
His mouth moved without sound, Quistis leant over him, her bare knees skidding in slick liquid.
"Please"
Quistis blinked once, behind cracked spectacles. She nodded and let go of the man's hand, which moved automatically to his belly.
Right.
Her surroundings seemed suddenly very clear as Quistis knelt over the injured man. She pressed one hand to his neck, feeling the faint pulse jump and skip irregularly.
Dammit. I'm sorry.
The apology turned into a snatch of familiar litany in her mind as she whispered a few words of magic over the man's body in a voice hoarse from shouting and slid her hand up his neck to touch his forehead, gently. The skin was cool and clammy and the bloody pads of her fingertips left small round stigmata on the pale surface, as if in benediction
Quistis closed her eyes for a fleeting second and felt the magic leave her body in a rush. She opened them just in time to see the man's face slacken from the sleep spell. His own eyelids fluttered closed.
Quistis reached behind her and picked up the knife. She placed one hand on the man's shoulder to steady his heavy slumped body and slid the knife gently in between his ribs, twisting until she felt the edge grate against bone.
The man's eyes opened, unseeing. He gasped and convulsed, coughing as a mixture of blood and saliva drooled down his chest. The inside of his mouth gaped red and wet with blood.
Quistis held him until he stopped struggling and relaxed into death. She passed one hand over his face to close his eyes and stood, leaving the cooling body to the depredations of the monsters.
No.
She reached for the whip chained to her belt and unhooked it, flicking the tip from wall to wall with a snap of her wrist. The Creeps drew back and she let the whip curl warningly over their heads. They hesitated, but came on, anyway, attracted by the blood and the smell of death that hung in the confined space like a pall.
One metre..closing.
The nearest Creep tensed for an attack
"Firaga."
Quistis cast.
The corridor in front of her blanked out in a charnel roar of greasy smoke and flame. She thought she saw the silhouette of the man's corpse for a second in the blaze before it crumbled to ash, as well as all the Creeps within six metres, part of the wall and most of the ceiling.
Quistis didn't stay long enough to let the surviving Creeps catch up with her. Mouth a flat line and heart heavy, she raced round the corner to find Seifer.
Nobody was to be seen. On the plus side, of course, no bodies were to be seen. Quistis told herself that this was a good thing. The Creeps were hot on her heels, whispering up the corridor behind her. She ran, looking frantically round for the group and thinking that she wouldn't have put it past Seifer to leave, but he definitely wouldn't have taken the group with him.
There was a faint noise from farther up the corridor and she followed it cautiously, feet aching. Sweat stung her eyes, damp on her face.
The noise repeated.
Quistis cocked her head, trying to place it. It sounded metallic. She dropped her pace to a walk, slow enough to stop if necessary yet still fast enough to outpace the Creeps. She hoped.
A thin scream came from behind her. Quistis whirled. The Creeps rustled to a halt and then single-mindedly stopped, turned through one hundred and eighty degrees and slithered back the way they'd come.
Quistis didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
They can't be that way. I've just come from that way.
The metallic noise repeated again.
Okay, I'll just check that out and then I'll go and see what the Creeps are up to. Add on the fact that I don't know where the hell we're supposed to be heading for…...and ye gods could I have made any more of a mess of this mission?
She crept up to the next corner, treading silently on the balls of her feet. Placing both of her palms flat against the wall, she edged closer, trying to be quiet and desperately trying to think of any monsters that made metallic noises. When she reached the corner she leant back against the plasterboard, her SeeD uniform more grey than black by now, nerves frazzled. Magic jumped in her veins, pulsing with every breath, every tiny movement, leaving her exhausted.
She exhaled softly and leant round the corner, trying to keep her movements smooth and controlled. Monsters were attracted to jerky, panicked motion.
She needn't have worried. It wasn't a monster. It was Seifer.
He looked up at the same time as she did, eyes widening at the sudden movement. Quistis automatically stepped within his guard so that he couldn't draw on her.
Seifer tensed, and then relaxed, exhaling in a long breath. He deserted his post and came raiding, wrapping both arms around her and leaning Hyperion up against the wall carefully.
Quistis didn't mind, welcoming the human contact. It was great not needing people, but there were some times when it just didn't work. He seemed to have forgiven her for the moment, and she was grateful, though not grateful enough to say so.
After all, she'd just done the logical thing.
Seifer held her in a fierce hug, a pistol still in his right hand. It felt cold against her spine, pointing down at the floor. At least she hoped it was pointing at the floor. She rested her head on his shoulder for a second, allowing herself the brief luxury of human contact before she stepped back, straightening her uniform. "Everyone else is okay?"
"They're fine. Freaked, but fine." Seifer picked up Hyperion, hands running automatically over the weapon just to make sure that it hadn't changed in the five seconds he hadn't been holding it "One of them tried the 'if you don't help us, you're just as bad as we are' trick when I threatened to leave them all to die."
Quistis surmised that they'd got a raised eyebrow and a "what the fuck is wrong with you?" She smiled, and then frowned at his next question.
"Yours?"
Quistis shrugged and looked away miserably.
Seifer tried to catch her eye and failed. He drew back and ran one finger down her face. It came away red. Quistis raised her free hand to her cheek. There was a line of painful wetness that ran from the side of her nose across nearly to the point of her jaw, under her ear. It didn't feel deep. A flesh wound, nothing more.
"You better get that stitched up. You're going to have a scar."
"I'll survive." Quistis said
"You're a survivor." Seifer sounded approving. He was all for survival of the fittest.
She looked up, gave him a wry grin, stared to say something-and then was cut off by another loud scream.
Seifer looked round. "Who's that?"
"None of yours?"
"They're not mine. I thought it was that guy you were with."
"Negative. It must be…"
"The other group." Seifer finished off her sentence.
"Do you know where we are?" Quistis asked "We should send help."
"Like who? Them? They can't even help themselves."
"Location, soldier."
"Weapons room's about one hundred metres due north." He jerked his head in the opposite direction to which Quistis had entered. "We're almost there, and they knew what they were getting into.. Tough shit."
"You know, you might need some help one day." Quistis pushed past him and started walking, gathering rebels as she went.
Seifer raised one eyebrow cynically. "From them? Yeah right."
"We'll regroup, get better weapons, and then go off after them."
"You and whose army? Oh no. I know that look. I'm not saving that bunch of fuckwits from themselves."
"They don't sound far away. I can't trust anyone else and I need to get these people to safety."
"You trust me? Haven't heard that one before."
Quistis rolled her eyes and gave him a second Look.
"So I do go. What's in it for me?" A calculating expression came over his face. "Oh. Yeah. I get it."
Quistis internally cursed herself. Despite what people said, Seifer wasn't stupid, though he often wasn't as clever as he thought he was. She reached up, pulled him closer and hissed "They called the Galbadians. And if not, the power will have knocked out the radio. Xu said they'd send Balamb SeeDs. Either way, that's bad for you, but if I say you helped the CLA that might work. But you have to promise that you'll help the other party and that you won't leave."
"Yeah, but-"
"Promise."
"Okay. I'll find you when I'm finished."
"Take care."
"Same. "
"Come back."
He tipped his head to the side. "Got to go."
"I'm not stopping you."
He grinned suddenly, a real smile that made him look several years younger and made Quistis want to push him up against the wall and do unspeakable things to him. "You're not. But I'll come back."
"I'll be waiting. Somewhere between here and the square, anyway."
Seifer grinned again, slung Hyperion over his shoulder, spun and jogged back up the corridor in the direction of the hair raising scream. Quistis watched him go, thinking that it was beginning to become a habit. Despite it all, she felt better. Either he'd come back, or he wouldn't, but for once she was fine with letting him go, which was the important thing.
Simple.
She turned and began to shepherd the group towards the weapons room, tracking through dusty hospital rooms strewn with instruments as the tracks on the floor swelled in size. Glancing at the floor, she thought that she could make out Seifer's bootprints from his earlier excursion into the hospital Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but it was a nice idea.
Quistis lost the footprints as she followed her group into the room. She took little notice of the weapons strewn about, calling for a couple of the men to help her close the door behind them. Job finished, she collapsed onto a crate, and then looked wearily up as the nearest rebel sidled up. He coughed awkwardly and said "Where's he going?
"He said that he'd go and help the others and now he's left. And now you know as much as I do." Privately she thought that there was as much chance of Seifer coming back as Martine preaching harmony, forgiveness and joy to all men, but she was having a hard time admitting that herself.
I can't blame him if he doesn't. Or I can blame him, but at least I understand.
A tiny part of her mind whispered …..he said he'd come back.
The tired, adult and cynical part asked Would you?
But he said…
Shut up. Quistis buried the starfish of Hope under the cold seas of Logic. Dimly she was aware that the brief respite from fighting was giving the rebels more time to think, and that was a bad thing.
Somebody else joined the conversation. "I suspect he's alive and well. Which is more than can be said for those around him."
Quistis sighed. "You should hope so. It's your people he's rescuing."
"That does not fill me with confidence. He's a killer."
"So am I. So are you. These people have killed monsters, what does that make them? You helped wreck my home!"
"I didn't. I mean, we did, but I never pressed any button. I didn't plant it!"
You supported them! Hyne, least he's more honest about it. I mean that if he thinks a person ought to die, that person is dead. He will always, always fight. He's very uncomplicated like that. But he doesn't lie and he doesn't pretend to be something he's not. Well, he doesn't lie about important things, even if he can't tell the truth about stuff he doesn't remember."
"What?" The man she addressed looked puzzled, as well he might.
"It doesn't matter. We can defend this room. Let's stay here for a bit, give ourselves a chance to rest and recover."
Seifer ran down corridors, half his mind trying to map the intricate network of passageways and the other half thinking about Quistis. She was hurt. On Quistis it looked good, as if the next season all the girls would be rushing into the shops and demanding facial scars, but she was still injured and he'd rarely seen Quistis hurt before At the end of the day, she was just too good. He didn't have much faith in the rest of the group to protect her, either. Like he'd said, they couldn't even help themselves. Most of the CLA made the Forest Owls look like Special Forces in comparison, and the ones that really mattered had gone off to get themselves killed.
I'll come back for you. Nobody else.
Seifer couldn't help thinking that it wouldn't matter if one or two of the main CLA agitators didn't get saved. No leaders, no group, no problem.
Bahamut growled in his head, distracting Seifer from his increasingly morbid thoughts. It made him shiver. The sense of something alien in his head, something different and strong and reptilian, was just weird. He didn't know what the GF looked like, because junctioning just felt like drawing magic apart from when you opened your eyes your opponent was just that vital bit weaker, but he knew it was some kind of dragon from what Quistis had said earlier. There was a blurred impression of a moon over grey clouds, but that was nonsense. Clouds didn't rip your opponent apart and clouds certainly didn't KO a fully grown Snow Lion. He didn't remember the process, but the result was hard to argue with.
Memories. They'll be the first to go.
Shut up, he told himself firmly.
Seifer wrenched his mind back to the matter in hand, telling himself firmly to pay attention. It was difficult to track by ear. The screams had died away, but on his mental map their source couldn't be far.
There. A louder cry. Swearing, Seifer picked up the pace, thinking grimly that it would be a miracle if there would be anything left for him to save. Homing in on the screams, he raced round the nearest corner, fighting for balance as his boots slipped on the lino, saw the party in front of him and skidded to a halt.
"Seifer?!"
I passed my exams and finished the game! Wow. Anyway, am tired.
Reviews:
Auronzlah: Relationships ARE sex, complaining and fighting, d00d. More plot in this one, and a hell of a battle in the next chapter (coming soon) I think you'll like it.
Breaker-one: Quistis is not and will never be a damsel in distress.
Ghost 140: Seifer with hero quality? More like antihero power. 'We're heroes of a sort, the ones who crawl off cursing after the curtain falls'.-Joanne Harris: The Ugly Sister.
Jindy Wahr: I'll check for the punctuation. Ta.
Nynaeve77: Did Xu hear Quistis say Seifer's name? Find out in the action-packed next chapter, hehehe.
Sickness In Salvation: Thanks! But if I don't use cliffhangers, how the hell can I keep people reading? SDTC will thankfully not end with one though.
Sulou: thanks for waiting! cheers.
Superviolinist: I hadn't even started the game when I finished GB. I've finished it now. Got it just before I started SDTC, as well as a strategy guide which has been really amazingly helpful.
Wonderful Failure: Tori Amos indeed rocks. Try Thea Gilmore, too.
kate
Quote from sister's beta-ing.
'Note: when I was looking at how everyone dresses on the AMVS, I realized that every fic author who mentions Seifer's stupid vest thing that he wears underneath his Big Gay Coat™ says that it has no sleeves. This puzzled me for a bit , seeing as it's not like he ever takes the coat off and most of the characters seem to wear the same thing all the time, to save the animators the pain of making two versions of each character.
Then I realized.
It's because otherwise you've got an antihero who wears a cardigan.'