The next day brought with it a flurry of rushed activity--activity that the group that had come so far from was barely party to. Scientists were coming and going from the Palace as soon as it was late enough in the morning not to be obscene, and there was a constant bustle of aides in the Infirmary. Sometime around midmorning Taiga was moved to the nearby Odine Institute, into one of the observation labs--which came as an unwelcome shock to Fujin, at least.
The scientists had full access to the Palace guests, and before long each one of them was called on to give accounts--as detailed as was humanly possible, even beyond the constraints of a standard technical report. The SeeDs were asked to give appraisals as they were trained to do, Lu found herself trying to remember every conversation she'd ever hand and relate it verbatim, and Fujin was asked to dredge up any memory--no matter how insignificant--of childhood in the Centra house. Seifer and Raijin were just drilled on everything in general--and then, when they failed to answer that to the scientists' approval, everything in specifics.
Laguna pulled the only string he needed to, and managed to get them into whatever scientific discussions they wanted to listen in on. They were allowed free access to the observation areas of the Odine Institute--though no one watched except Fujin, who seemed intent on making sure that she would know every last detail of the procedure and hat every scientist was doing and why. Everyone learned quickly that it was best not to be too arcane around her, or trouble would begin to arise.
Fujin could be quite unsettling when she chose to be.
The day wore on in a flurry of activity, meetings and consultations and discussions and an incredibly vibrant atmosphere of scientific discourse. And, by the afternoon, a schedule and procedure had been agreed upon for the surgery.
And if anyone expressed concern that things were moving rather fast, Laguna would shrug and say "Esthar technology," --as if it was the way things were always done and, really, something to be glad about.
Taiga woke up only once that day, and was put back to sleep soon after. And, though Fujin was at his side immediately upon his waking, he didn't seem to recognize her, and only said one thing during his consciousness:
"Disregard. ICI... you're there, aren't you?"
Fujin didn't sleep that night. She didn't try to. She sat up, watching the Esthar cityscape glow from her guest room window, wondering what it was about the city that could spawn tragedies and miracles so close to one another. She wondered what it was that could inspire anything like what it had--the technology to rob cyborgs of their humanity, the technology to give one a child....
Cyborgs could disable dreams. Fujin had never had that luxury--though, if she had, she didn't know if she would use it. Even up through this, the dreams were what had always helped her remember.
But what would she need to remember between this night and the next afternoon?
She didn't think that anyone had asked Taiga about having the ICI removed, and it was a point that was nagging at her. It was a necessary step, she understood, and had they asked him he probably would have said yes--and who wouldn't?--but it still rankled. It was one more day in the life of a cyborg--things were always being done for someone's best benefit, and never for the cyborg's preference.
...cyborgs weren't considered people.
...it seemed as if she had always known that, somehow. As if somehow, she had figured out that the reason these things happened--the reason they were allowed to happen and she was allowed to be taken away from her family with all expectation that she would never see them again--was because there was something wrong with the world, something it was blinded to that only she could see. She had one good eye and better sight than anyone.
And still, the city held secrets that she couldn't see--malice or ignorance or the simple pigheaded brutality that came with war, all of them might be factors and none of them were obvious.
And, she supposed, none of them mattered, any more. The damage had already been done.
If she had known what praying was or ever believed in it, she would have prayed then. But as it was she simply sat and waited, staring through the long night hours and the slowly lightening sky.
After breakfast, they were ushered into the one of the many conference rooms in the Odine Institute to wait through the operation. The person attending to them made no bones about the fact that it was a daunting one--very difficult, and very dangerous. "But," he said, with an encouraging smile, "we have Esthar's greatest minds on it. In three hours, we should all be able to bring you good news."
Laguna stopped by once, and apologized that he couldn't stay. But there was business to be done--the life of the President of the most powerful nation on the globe was scattered with Things To Be Done, not the least of which concerned the legal battle he was just now entering for Taiga's sake. He left the aide with them, saying that if they needed anything at all they could just ask.
And the minutes wore on.
Kiros stopped in briefly on his was to speak with members of the EMOC, and said most of the same things that Laguna had before he slipped out.
Three hours passed, and no news came. So they waited for a fourth hour.
Sometime later, someone brought them a selection of foods. The food was picked over, but no one ate much at all.
Two hours later, an aide came and asked if they would like to be taken back to the Palace. And, because no one else seemed to know what to say, Nida took the initiative.
"No thanks," he said. "I think we'll just stay here."
The clock on the wall continued its relentless motion, moving smoothly through minutes and hours. Aides came and went--some with apologies, some with useless, simple explanations, some with refreshments or things to keep them entertained or scientific journals on related procedures or anything they thought might make the waiting more bearable. Nothing really helped.
When darkness fell, an aide cleared away the half-eaten lunch arrangement and brought in more substantial food for dinner. By then no one was in the mood to eat, though a few tried to in any case.
No one was talking, by now.
And the hours wore on.
Nearing the deepest part of the night two new aides appeared and, with muted voices and sincere concern, they apologized for keeping them in a room so long for no good reason. They promised to send messengers were anything to change, at all.
On the way back to the Palace, no one spoke at all. A bird called from somewhere above them, voice hollow and raw in the still night air.
Fujin had never known there were birds in Esthar. But it seemed familiar, somehow--something like the big black crows that flew by the house in Centra, somewhere buried deep in her memories.
Esthar stared back at her as she walked--silent and inscrutable, as ever.