Impossible

A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction

Rambled Off by The Manwell

Book Two: PREVENTERS

Heero Yuy

Finally.

I listen to the sound of the solar bay doors hissing closed behind Adamsson's chief assistant, the man who has been my tour guide/babysitter for the last five days and then some. Finally, I am alone. And I'm alone with the data beast that runs this corporation.

As Duo would say, Whoo-yeah!

At last, the virus program I'd been carefully nurturing on my laptop's hard drive will finally be allowed the fieldtrip I'd promised it a day and a half ago.

I almost snort at myself. Perhaps my concentrated effort to behave like Duo over the duration of this mission has had an effect on my psyche. An intriguing... if disturbing thought. For sure, it would amuse Duo.

Will, I correct myself. It will amuse Duo. Sometime over the last thirty-six hours, I've firmed my resolution to get through to that guy. And I'll do whatever it takes. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop clashing wits with him. I mean, let's face it: what's friendship without intellectual challenge? But I'm going to start crowding his space until he finally lets me in. No longer am I going to convince myself I'm satisfied with his bullshit smile and snappy rejoinders. It's all or nothing, now.

But first, the mission.

It takes me mere moments to accomplish the task I'd been assigned by the head doctor's assistant. And then, under the pretext of running a diagnostic program, I hook up my laptop to the database. Finally, something I'd actually been trained to do. Something I don't have to refer to my memories of Duo for. I know that as soon as I get back to Earth, I'm going to crash and burn. This assignment has been exhausting. Where Duo gets the energy to be who he is, I have not a clue.

While I'm waiting for the virus to be absorbed into the main computer, I surreptitiously take in my surroundings. In mere moments, I've nearly finished typing up an encoded text file detailing the variety of power sources here in the generator room. I can't help but be little impressed by the field of solar mirrors pointed toward the domed ceiling. And I'm annoyed to realize that I can't remember if these are the same mirrors that had been here back when Oz had appropriated the facility or if the Earth Sphere had installed them recently in an attempt to entice companies to move their operations into outer space.

Having finished my notes, I once again check the email account I'd used to contact Duo. There's still no reply to my check-in. I frown and wonder what the hell is going on. I'd already turned my mobile connection inside-out looking for a blockage. I give the mental equivalent of a shrug. I'll sit down this evening and try to figure out the problem. It's obviously something that needs several hours' worth of my undivided attention. Perhaps, having been distracted by the completion and release of my virus, I'd missed something when I'd last checked it. Unlikely, but possible.

The progress window on my screen alerts me to the completed upload.

So, that's it. The next time the main computer connects with the satellites necessary for this compound's communications, the virus will begin to unfurl. A diagnostic check will send it into full maturity. There is nothing more I can do at this moment. Either it will be successful or it won't. As I pack up my equipment, I also briefly consider the possibility that I'll be asked to stay on longer here to help sort out the problem and while that might end up being good for the mission, I'd really rather go home. But whatever, as Duo would say.

I feel my expression softening as I think of him. I'm a little anxious to start my new campaign to win his friendship. I almost shake my head at myself. Damn but it took me long enough to change my tactics–

My expression is pulled once more into a frown as I wait for the doors to open at my command but there's no response. I tap in the code once more and wait. But still the electronic locks remain engaged.

What the hell? The virus couldn't have taken effect yet. In fact, I hadn't even attacked the locking systems with it.

I jab at the keypad yet again.

There is still no response.

A short? A code change? The possibilities are endless. I consider removing the maintenance panel and rewiring it. I could manage to do so in about thirty seconds, but it would certainly disabuse them of the notion that I'm a harmless traveling techie. Unless they've already figured me out, in which case, not getting out of here a.s.a.p. would be a big mistake.

My options are neatly listed and scrolled through in a handful of seconds but before I've decided on one, a rusty squeal from somewhere above and behind me intrudes. I glance over my shoulder to locate the source of the movement but for a several seconds, nothing is immediately apparent. It's when my gaze lands on a pair of gears turning against each other that a ghost of the truth shivers through my body.

And then the temperature in the room starts to climb.

I glance up and I'm as close as I've ever been to breaking out in a cold sweat. For the tiniest moment, I stare as the first of the dome's panels slides under its neighbor. I turn back to the lock and rip the panel off. I don't even bother with the possibility that someone has forgotten about me being in here and has decided to charge the mirrors. It's obvious to me that they know. I would be an idiot to hope otherwise.

Metal slides against metal and the first ray of unfiltered sunlight forces its way through the widening gap in the roof. At the access panel, I've just managed to yank out the wires but I feel as if I'm being boiled by light. And the first of nearly a dozen panels isn't even open yet.

I try to work faster, but I can't breathe. My eyes are watering from the glow beginning to surround me. I'm still calm – after training like mine what else would I be? – but I realize that I will probably not survive this. Not that that's any reason to give up.

The first panel is open completely and I think I've started to cook. I can't think, can't see, can't feel my hands. Hell, I can't feel anything except the blistering heat. And then I imagine I'm falling into a soothing, cool darkness and a pair of strong arms. Death hums in my ear and I'm a little surprised that I recognize the voice.

"Duo..." I think I say and then I'm gone.