Yeah, you guessed it. Still own nothing.
Segment 6:
Stars in Heaven
Summary:
Duo visits the ESIA building in Brussels in hopes of meeting with Setsuna. After breaking past security, he is shocked to find that two Leute, Eljira ak Zhul and the assassin Aethrin had been present at a meeting between Setsuna and the Secretary of Defense, Roderick Bailey. Later, Setsuna explains that Eljira is posing as Bailey's son, and hold's his "father's" position through control over him. Setsuna then tells Duo to go to L3 to find an informant group simply known as "Red Delta". Meanwhile, Sally revives Amy and she and Wufei begin to question her. Amy reveals the true story of Crystal Tokyo, then goes on to explain a horrific process used by the Leute to gain human followers. She agrees to help the Preventors gather information on the Leute, in exchange for the promise that she will not have to show herself as Sailor Mercury, nor will she have to interact with any of the other Senshi.
Quatre stood in the library of his home, absentmindedly running his fingers over the wood paneling of the cabinet that housed his violin. He didn't play often now, but he still did on occasion. But on this night, his mind was elsewhere.
It had been about a week since he'd returned to L4. He had only remained on Earth for a day and a half, and left when Haruka called him to say that she wouldn't be coming back with him. Reluctantly, he agreed to leave her behind and start searching for the Senshi on his own.
Wufei had sent a short e-mail the day before saying that the Preventor's had secured the aid of Mizuno Ami, aka, Sailor Mercury. Quatre was relieved, but only so much. There had been a lead on the search for Mercury, and she'd been found in less than two days. But the other two, Venus and Mars, were proving to be more difficult. There was some history of an old pop idol in the late first century named Aino Minako, but she had died in AC 103. As for Hino Rei, there was nothing.
Quatre sighed, wishing Haruka had come back. In the past decade, he'd come to rely on her sound advice and reluctant helpfulness. And yet, she confused him. As far as he knew, she had no family, no job outside of helping him, and no other contacts. He was embarrassed to admit that he didn't even know her last name. All common sense told him that he shouldn't trust her, or at the very least, that he should ask her about some of these things. But…she was Haruka. For twenty-five years, she'd been watching him, whether from the shadows or from a distance. If there was something he needed to know, he would most likely have found it out by now.
Pacing slowly across the polished wood floor of the library, he looked at the walls of books. He'd read most of them, but he remembered very few. Most of the volumes were the histories of the Winner family, or else they were technical manuals or other such exhausting books. No, the best books, the classic novels and art books and biographies were shelved between the large brick fireplace and the tall windows that looked out onto the back lawn.
His eyes wandered upwards to the top shelves where trophies, vases, and other breakable artifacts were displayed. He smiled slightly as he remembered one such item, a clear crystal ball the size of his fist that held a rose bud. Not just any rose bud, but the first that had ever grown on a space colony, the first that had grown in space at all. The ball was a family heirloom, and Quatre's father had been furious when he'd caught his son scaling the shelves in order to reach it.
Now, Quatre scanned the shelves for the rose, but there was no sign of it. Frowning, he slid the wheeled ladder over to the shelf and climbed up. Blowing the dust from the shelf, he looked around. Pushed back against the corner was the little tripod the orb rested on, situated on top of its box. Carefully, he retrieved both the tripod and the box, then climbed down.
Setting the tripod on the coffee table, he sat on the antique wine-red couch and opened the box. He gently pulled the crystal out of the newspaper it was wrapped in, and marveled at how it caught the light from the fire. The rose was a darker red than he remembered, more like dried blood than a cardinal's wing. It seemed to sparkle as the flickering light teased and caressed it through its thick hard casing.
He stared at it for a while more, then stood up. Picking up the tripod from the table, Quatre set it on the fireplace mantle, then placed the orb on top. He stepped back, satisfied that the beautiful item was given better justice there rather than on the top of the bookshelves. However, the box, slightly moldy and very faded, could return to its old home.
Quatre picked it up and was about to put the lid back on when a scrap of the newspapers that had cushioned the rose caught his eye.
PSYCHIC GIRL FOUND IN JAPAN!
Raising an eyebrow, he pulled the paper out. It was a page from an old tabloid, dated April 17, 174. He doubted he should take the story no more seriously than the one below it ("Bat Boy Runs For President!"), but there was a name in the first paragraph that sounded awfully familiar.
Raye Hino.
The spelling was different, but the name sounded the same. Smoothing the crumpled, yellowed paper against the surface of the coffee table, he began to read.
Found living alone in a decrepit Shinto temple in Tokyo, Raye Hino was at first assumed to be a harmless though insane woman. However, further psychological testing on her has revealed the fact she is in fact a psychic. Not only is her power demonstrated through clairvoyance, but it also appears she has some minor telepathy, ESP, and even pyrokinetic talents.
Currently, Miss Hino is a resident at Saint Teresa's Mental Institution, and
CONTINUED ON PAGE 7
Quatre cursed under his breath as he searched through the other scraps of paper in the box. While there was one more page from the tabloid included, it was not page seven. The rest of the story was lost.
Not to be defeated, Quatre half ran to his office and sat down at his computer. Quickly he typed in the name of the newspaper, hoping to bring up the website. However, there was nothing. It was just too old. Moving on, he brought up Saint Teresa's website. He was met with the lovely picture of a pretty young woman pushing a smiling old lady in a wheelchair. Scrolling down the page, he was about to hit a link to the hospital's location, when he froze.
In very small print at the bottom of the page, words were written.
Saint Teresa's exists due to the generous funding courtesy of the Romefeller Foundation.
Romefeller.
That one word alone was enough to make him rethink looking into the story of Raye Hino entirely. Because if he was going to deal with the Romefeller Foundation…
He sighed and picked up the phone. As he dialed, several bad memories flashed through his mind. When the person on the other end of the phone answered, his voice was more than a little shaky. "Dorothy? It's Quatre."
In a coffee shop on the natural resource satellite MO-IV, Trowa and Lady Une sat opposite each other staring out the window at the endless expanse of space. Both had been silent ever since they'd ordered the two cappuccinos upon entering. But now, Lady Une clenched her fists.
"I can't believe how stupid these people are," she muttered, her gaze hard as she watched the Earth miles and miles away.
Trowa touched her hand. "You did everything you could."
"That wasn't enough," Lady Une retorted, then glanced apologetically at him. "It's just so frustrating. Why can't they see? Why are they ignoring this new threat?"
"Not enough concrete evidence," his voice echoed the exact words the funding manager had spat at them when they'd requested money and equipment for their mission. Though Lady Une had argued for well over a week, even showing the proof of Mizuno Ami's existence, still they'd been denied.
"They'll have all the evidence they need when we're all locked in cages and the Earth becomes a charred ball of dust," she said bitterly. "Did you know even Relena is doubtful about this whole thing?"
Trowa nodded. "Heero's been in contact with her. She'll wear down eventually."
"Hopefully we'll have something to defend ourselves with by the end of the month," Lady Une agreed.
Her companion looked thoughtful for a few moments, then locked his gaze with her. "Do you want children?"
She blinked in surprise. "What brought that question on all of a sudden?" she asked, resting her chin in her hand.
Trowa didn't answer, but studied her face closely. "I want to know if you want children."
"Hm…eventually, I suppose," Lady Une answered dubiously.
"What about now?" he pressed.
She raised an eyebrow and laughed softly. "We're kind of busy right now, don't you think? I can't really afford being out of commission for nine months."
Trowa lowered his chin. "We could adopt."
Lady Une stared at him, still confused. However, her brain slowly processed his suggestion. She paled and shook her head. "No…no…Trowa, no…"
"It's our only option," he remarked.
"I don't care! Do you realize the risk? What they're capable of doing to us? For god's sake, you read that information Mercury provided!" she cried.
Trowa folded his hands over hers. "I understand what kind of a chance we're taking. But if we get a Leute in our custody, we'll be able to figure out everything Mercury can't tell us. We may have to put ourselves in danger, but for the others this information could be vital."
"Or we could end up killing them," Lady Une answered.
"What would you prefer? That the Leute torture them to insanity?" he asked quietly.
She stared at him, swallowed hard, then reached across the table to run her hand down his cheek. "You really want to do this?"
He nodded, and kissed her palm. "I promise you, if it gets rough, I'll get you out of it."
"No, Trowa. If we're going to do this, we're going to do this together. Even if it means we'll both take it to the grave," she said.
Trowa held her hand against his cheek again for a few moments, then closed his eyes. "All right then. We'll do it together. No matter what happens."
The woman who opened the door to the large white mansion was considered by many to be one of the most attractive single women in the colonies. Quatre's reaction to her was little different; only a bit more repressed, if anything. But that didn't stop her.
"Quatre! It's nice to see you again," she smiled seductively at him.
"Yes, nice to see you too Dorothy," he answered shortly, trying not to look at the low cut dress she was wearing.
"Well, come into the parlor. Lunch is ready, if you're hungry," Dorothy replied, leading him inside.
The parlor was bright and airy, and a small table in the middle was set for the two of them. Quatre warily sat down, but did not touch any of the food or the iced tea that was poured out into the cups. He knew he was being more than a little rude, but he didn't care. Neither did Dorothy, apparently, who was watching him amusedly.
"Jumpy, aren't you?" she commented, taking a drink of the tea. "Don't worry; nothing's poisoned, and there aren't any snipers hiding behind the piano."
Quatre blushed ever so slightly. "You're not exactly the person to trust, Dorothy. You have tried to kill me before."
"Ah, but you married me anyways didn't you?" she laughed.
Quatre looked down in his lap sheepishly. He always wondered why he'd made that mistake. Somehow, he'd convinced himself that he'd done it all for political reasons. A union between Romefeller and Winner would've made his heirs rich beyond belief. But luckily, he'd divorced her long before he had to worry about that. However, as he felt Dorothy's hypnotic eyes bore into his forehead, memories of nights in the desert with her came flooding back.
Shaking his head to clear away the images, he took a drink of the iced tea. "Um…you don't suppose we could talk about something else?"
"Oh, if the past bothers you that much, we can," Dorothy answered. "So tell me, why did you come to visit? Obviously not to reminisce."
"No. I was wondering if you could tell me about Saint Teresa's," he inquired.
Dorothy frowned in thought, then shrugged. "It was founded long before my grandfather was born. I think it was his grandfather. His wife went insane, so he started Saint Teresa's in her honor."
"Where is it?"
"Virginia. I'm not sure of the exact city, but I can probably find the address if you're planning to visit," she replied. Her eyes sparked with interest. "Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Planning to visit."
Quatre bit his lip, unsure of how much to tell Dorothy. She could be counted on to keep a secret, as long as no one offered her something she wanted in exchange for it. "Yes. I recently found out a distant relation of mine is living there. I was hoping I could get her released into my care."
"Hm," she took another drink of tea. "I suppose being the head of the Winner family this is unnecessary, but should I put in a good word for you?"
His head jerk backwards in surprise. "Uh…yeah, sure. If you could. But what's in it for you?"
"Just a little favor from your ex-wife. Nothing more. Unless," the seductive look on her face returned. "You'd care to relive some old times?"
He shook his head. "No. That wouldn't be good for either of us."
She shrugged. "Your loss."
"You'll still help?"
She smiled. "Of course. I said I would, wouldn't I? Maybe you should give me a little more credit."
The rest of the meal was quiet and uneventful, peppered with little comments about the weather. Afterwards, Quatre stood and Dorothy walked him back to the door where his car was waiting.
"It really was good to see you again, Quatre," she said, almost sincerely.
Quatre, unable to resist, kissed her cheek. "Take care, Dorothy."
"Oh, you know I will, dear. You know I will."