Chapter 7
Departures
You will note and with humor, if you are anything like me, that I tend to lose myself quite often. The states and circumstances vary of course, but it has never been unusual for me to wake up in a place I have no recollection of traveling to. Sometimes, this makes a good deal of sense, as I will recall prior instances in which I was, shall we say, under pressure. Other times, as you will soon read, there is really no accounting for it. So, in short, if things become at all muddled and inconsistent, it is because that is as it appears in my head. I will try with you, to clarify some portions that will come off as awkward and sometimes ludicrous and make them coherent to the plot of my life.
If you have any suggestions on meanings and interpretations, I am always pleased to hear the opinions of others (as long as you don't think I am Rocky Mountain High on drugs) Send them in care of the Isle. I think that my residence here will be of some duration.
Now, where were we?
When I managed to regain consciousness, and rather annoyed with myself for having lost it at all, I found myself well cared for. The bed was enormous and the room which dawned slowly upon me as I stirred awake was of equal stature. Regardless the size of the room and its luxury, where in the hell I was, was remained a mystery until my sister came along. Aria seemed unaltered by our recent experience. Her grace and determined expression was ever green.
"We are in Calais. There will be a ship to take us over the Channel tonight." She sat down on the side of the bed as I made to peel myself from it. The previous night had come back to me in full, recalling to me all that had been said, and done. Aria was likely thinking of it too, and in the light of a bright afternoon coming in the window, we remembered together.
She fetched me a silk robe from the nearby boudoir and helped it on me. My chest felt heavy from the smoke the night before, but after having survived poison, it was no hardship. I walked to a large window overlooking a section of the French Port. We must have been in one of the finer hotels and I wondered how Aria had arranged it. Behind my eyes, Vespertine flitted in her dying moments. Aria was next to me, watching me in something akin to reverence. I fixed her with a roguish smile and flung open the window so that the sea air might greet us proper.
"I have been without the sea for too long" I murmured, my heart gladdened by the sounds of nearby seagulls. Aria leaned out, the sun catching her red hair and exposing the gold under-shine, even as it shown red in my own. She looked down with a more relaxed face and spoke slowly.
"We are going home"
"Well past time"
"I think our father will be pleased"
I had not thought about my father, and suddenly the mood was again black as the smoke in my lungs. I had thought nothing of how he would react to my actions. In truth, though I remembered my actions, I had not thought on them much.
"We will need to think things through."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I have burned down the school I was sent to. I have killed an Alliance daughter. Surely there will be hard consequences for that." I turned away from the sun, not wishing to grow too accustomed to its glory. Aria shifted and half snorted in amusement.
"That doesn't matter. You didn't kill anyone Father will care about. It's probably about time you got used to it."
"To what?"
"Killing. We are soldier bound, aren't we? Killing is part of the game. Hadn't you done it before?"
I shook my head slowly.
"Really? I thought you had. Incredible, you seemed like a natural last night." My sister baffled me.
"Natural? How may anyone be 'natural' at killing?"
Aria shrugged. "Necessity drives us, I suppose. But really, I had thought you had done it before."
"Have you?"
"Not yet, but then, I am not Eldest Child."
"Indeed not" We sat in silence for a long time, mulling over things in out respective thoughts.
"What do you suppose we will be sent to do next?" Aria ventured.
"It is anyone's guess. But I did learn some disconcerting things last night." Aria prompted me with her immediate interest.
"Have you been the Western Coast of Ireland recently, with the family?"
"No" she answered. "I was at Lefrey's for a number of months."
"How is it that they did not know you?"
"I entered under our mother's maiden name. This was easy since I arrived alone and had no one with me to contradict. It was Bram's suggestion. So, being a stranger and keeping my mouth shut, I learned lots of things about the school."
She then disclosed to me the facts of the school's educational course, how the female students were instructed in practical ways during the day, and at night, encouraged to explore sexual behavior. Some of the men who visited were allowed to enter through the front door. The boys always snuck in, not knowing that the faculty was very lenient on male visitation during the nights. Apparently, when a high ranking officer of the Alliance visited, he would have special treatment from the dormitories and often made a special donation to the school."
"But why did the girl's comply? I cannot think that twelve year old girls are as sexually aware as that."
Aria shifted again, this time uncomfortably.
"I suppose you were free from the aphrodisiacs that were placed in the food. Heh, wish I had been."
I stared at her. She was just twelve years old now and I wanted her desperately to deny the notion brewing in my mind from her words. Aria saw my look and was unashamed.
"Don't look at me that way. If you want to know, then yes. I was in on the course, and from it, I have an intimate understanding of Colonel Juaquinalt of the 28th infantry regiment in Kenya. I am not ashamed of it. We all must become women sometime."
Indeed. But I didn't want to hear another word about it. I turned away from her and was silent.
"Why did you ask about Ireland?" Good. That was the subject I had wanted to discuss and it was far away from the inner workings of the now 'defunct' Lefrey's school.
"There was a young man who 'visited' me last night. He knew who I was without having to be told. He seemed to know much actually, said he had recently vacationed in Ireland with our family. He mentioned Mathius and Shireen, not by name though. Also, he said that my absence was 'keenly felt'"
"I know of no visits recently. The movements of the family have been closed off to me since I left. We should ask Bram when we return. Did he say anything else?"
I thought for a moment on his parting words, but decided not to mention it. Aria raised a brow coyly.
"What did he look like?"
"I don't know, I didn't mark him at all. He was tall I think."
"You have no eye for men at all"
"I am young yet"
Beside me, Aria began laughing.
"Did you see that man's face when you threw the lamp at the bed? It was hilarious, with him wriggling about like a fish on a hook, and then trying to Rugby tackle us all. Too funny." Her face was turning red. I couldn't conceal a morbid grin. "Yea, good times, good times.
Inside, I was decayed.
*********************
We crossed the Channel on schedule and made a swift passage from the Port of Calais to white cliffs. I became more anxious as we neared the manor house, not wishing to see my father's face. The weather on the cliffs was tempestuous, with hard rain and shuddering winds to match my spirit. The house looked warm in the distance as we were driven towards it, with soft gold emanating from the fine windows. The complex beyond where I had spent my youth showed itself a great dark mass lurking behind the house.
We were shuffled into the house with all haste to keep dry. Inside the door, a servant I had no familiarity with escorted my sister and I into a den were we warmed ourselves against the bleakness of the night. Aria watched me with her sisterly concern that I was beginning to appreciate more and more. She knew my fear for I appeared white faced and shuddering as the minutes ticked by, minutes that would inevitably bring Merrick to us.
When the door to the den was suddenly thrust open, my blood fell from my heart and I was frozen with fear. I waited to see him cross the threshold, wondering if I would be able to stop myself from killing him for what he had done, or if he would have me killed for what I had done. Aria's reassurances in Calais meant nothing now. My father must be a brutal man and I was sure that I had reason to be frightened.
But it was Bram who appeared before us, followed by uniformed females that were to take us to our rooms. Blood re-entered my heart and I felt saved. Bram wouldn't hurt me. It was one of the few sureties of my life. He moved with his usual fluid grace that I always tried to emulate. The man always knew what he was doing in every instance and it showed in his posture. Elegantly, yet with strength, he crossed the room and stood in front of us as we rose to his presence.
"Welcome home, girls" he nodded politely, not quite smiling, but looking heartened. His premature gray hair glistened in the light of the lamps behind him. Neither of us spoke, for though Bram was with us, he still carried my father's word, which was only slightly better than having the man there himself. I waited for him to get right to heart of the matter, a lump rising in my throat.
"Your father knows the details of what happened at Madame Lefrey's."
That was it, I was dead. I saw Aria looking down from the corner of my eye. Bram's expressionless tone was obviously enough to disintegrate her belief in our father's clemency. I waited for Bram to continue but he kept looking at me, not indicating a need for a response, but I could see he was still waiting for something. Completely without thought, I assumed a proud stance that would mirror something of my father, something that would indicate that I had no qualms about my action.
Apparently it was an appealing movement, for Bram smiled. "Much like your father, Leecy. I can see how you have grown like him in these months."
Those words were far worse than anything else I had previously imagined.
"Well, now you are home. Your father could not be here to greet you, he is in London town for the week and will then be leaving for Essex Harbor city of Boston afterwards-"
"Are we to go with him?" I asked suddenly, enflamed with the idea of seeing an American city such as the Boston Harbor city. I could feel Aria beside me brighten with a similar excitement. Bram did not appreciate the interruption.
"You are not." Hopes dashed too quickly to feel any disappointment. "Your father is sending you to the western coast of Ireland. He believes you and your sister have earned something of a rest. But your training will continue. There will be Lady's tutors there and Miss Analicia must be trained in fire arms."
Western Ireland… "How long are we to be there?"
"I would imagine a few years at least." He answered me clearly. My heart leapt; a few years with my sister, away from my father, and in my own land.
"I will be there every so often to evaluate your instruction and progress." And Bram would be there too. I could not hide the smile the formed. Ireland was said to be beautiful and I had always wanted desperately to see my country.
Then I recalled the location in a different context; Western Ireland, where the boy had vacationed with my family. I remembered the boy, his words, and those of Vespertine, who had provided me with a name.
"Bram, who is Jareth Khushrenada?" He just looked at me for a time, not inclined to answer immediately, or perhaps at all.
"Leecy, There is someone here to see you. His name is Felius Alendro and he is a special physician from Greece. He will be seeing you in the morning after you have rested. I know it is irregular, but you require examination after the incident at the school. We need to make sure there are no long term effects."
I nodded my understanding, but wondered which incident he referred to, but didn't need to think much to make a good guess. Even as I acquiesced to his instructions, I was poised to ask Bram of Jareth Khushrenada. My instinct told me he was the young man I had met at Lefrey's and I wanted to know what he had to do with us. But Bram ignored my look of poised query and, with a light tap on my shoulder and then Aria's, he left us alone in the room.
I turned to Aria, who was still looking at the door. She fastened her steely eyes on me in turn and smirked lightly. Western Ireland! Not as great as visiting the one of the cities of the Grand Design, but I would see those places one day. Since the happenings of Lefrey's, I found a little more faith in the great Nation. Much like a person who finds religion in the midst of crisis, America was again my deity.
*********
Inside the grand office of the Eldest child, leagues of time after the memory of Analicia was in the midst of reliving, the interim child, Lady Aria Delizabane, shuffled through reports that came from throughout her newly created havoc. It had been a dim day with overcast skies and sea drizzle, yet full of excitement. In the Spanish ESUN providence, the Portuguese had set up military bases from which they attacked the south western portion of France. Having lost much of its organization through the Paris rebellion, which had begun in the countryside, the French were entering a desperation period. This would be most valuable to the Isle and to Aria herself. People in desperation tended to act with the most ferocity and all was assured to escalate beyond whatever control the Preventers might hope to retain. Also, Aria, like many of her countrymen, had a distinct dislike for France. The felling of their people would always bring her personal and patriotic satisfaction.
Zechs was heavy in activity. After the Isle's successful mission to procure Analicia from Preventer hold, Zechs had managed to crack the cloaking technology of the Calypso suits. It was a small oversight that could be rectified in the event of another encounter. However, Zechs had managed to break the line of Calypso's suits blocking him that day at the Preventer Headquaters far faster than was initially anticipated. Gabriel, who had stayed behind in his newly constructed black Eypon, had been there when Zechs landed the Tallgeese at the Khushrenada estate. It was a curious affair, undoubtedly involving variables that Aria had not accounted for. That he knew where to go was not so surprising, they had been seen heading in the north easterly direction of the Estate, but it was more what Gabriel had mentioned in passing when it was all over that offered some trouble. He had said that Zechs now knew everything. Aria wondered at this, and at Gabriel as well, who had developed a prophetic streak as of late.
After reaching the Estate, followed by a retinue of what had been identified as Scorpio mobile suits, a design not unfamiliar but certainly unaccounted for, Zechs made no move to attack the Epyon, the only remaining Isle suit at the scene. Aria thought perhaps that Zechs did not intend to face the Gundam with his inferior suit. But Gabriel's foresight on the matter swayed her more than any of Zechs' sensibilities.
Gabriel had illuminated much as of late. Besides the mere advantage of having Treize Khushrenda's file data on the Eypon available, they had also found in him a startling ability. Many times since the first occasion, he had fallen with attacks of the brain and body. They were extremely violent and often incapacitated him for hours. But when he awoke, he spoke disturbing truths, about what was, what had been and what was coming. The visions, at first unsettling and usually unclear when they pertained to the future, had become an undetected weapon. Last week, Gabriel had been seized and yelled in madness about Israel, saying that the struggle would be quelled by wind. And indeed, Preventer Wind had managed to ease the hostilities that raged there following an Isle attack. A small failure of the Isle that Aria blamed on reasonable modern middle-eastern character, they were always quite reluctant to fight after what they had done to North America centuries before. Zechs had done what Aria had fervently believed he would fail miserably at. He had no skill as a diplomat, ever, even when he attempted it in AC 195. She could not account for it, except for again what Gabriel had said, that Zechs now knew everything. It had occurred to all of them earlier today when Zechs managed to thwart an attack on the Trans-Asian rail line through the Urals. Zechs had the same prophetic abilities as Gabriel. One weapon negated by another. But who was the stronger Seer of the two, and were there anymore?
The staff was now attributing the ability to some altering of brainwaves found in Gabriel after prolonged exposure to Eypon's Zero System. Some seemed to think that perhaps the Zero system's vast communication abilities had trained some portion of the brain that is regularly not in use. In Bram's words, the Zero System awakens those who listen long enough. He called them Newtype. Now Gabriel and Zechs would be like human Zero Systems, perfect in strategy and in absorbing information to calculate the best chance for victory. However, it made them unpredictably, as Gabriel would seldom speak on what he heard, declaring that doing so would alter the strategy for victory. As long as his victory was hers as well, Aria did not mind.
But that left one possible opening, as the Isle knew there was one "Newtype" who was yet unaccounted for. Though Gabriel had told Lady Aria not to worry about the fugitive Heero Yuy, Aria did anyway. The boy had had more exposure to the Zero System, and there was no telling what the ability had revealed to him by now. And there was still many questions involving how it worked, whether the length of exposure was more important than the length of time between vision and exposure. So much unknown, but she could trust in Gabriel for now. He had yet to let them down.
Save for one thing, he would not keep from Leecy for long. Though she was in almost a vegetative state, he still spent long hours in the room, not looking at her. They had woken her up this morning using drugs. Gabriel had wiped blood from his nose as he spoke quietly that she could go into cardiac arrest if she was not awoken. He didn't seem to want her dead yet he railed strongly against her life when approached about it. It was here that Aria was unsure of his loyalty, though perhaps his loyalty was greater than others around her. He would not let Kateline to be near her room, and subdued any rebellion in The Huntress by sleeping with her. It was a sharp move on his part, for it both frustrated and satisfied Kateline's erratic behavior. It also distracted her from bothering Relena Darlian and Mariemaia Khushrenada, who had been placed together at another end of the compound.
Aria sighed, turning in her chair as she turned the events in her head. What was happening to her sister? The proposition Aria had given her should have been a far easier for her to accept than the mind warp she kept losing herself in. Perhaps what the others said was true, that she was showing symptoms of the disease that they all carried. She was losing her mind as they knew she would from the start.
The obligation would be short for Leecy. She had only to come out of the depths of her madness for a brief time, and then Aria would shoot her through the head, and give her the peace Leecy had given their own father.
********
The chair was old. It creaked back and forth as he moved slightly, sitting in the darkened room, the Library. He didn't like the light, not anymore. These past two weeks had changed his taste for the sun and its warmth. He would face the day only when he needed to know more. The room smelled of dust that no one would come to clean away. They all knew he was here, and they wouldn't disturb him.
Everyone was in dread of him now. Since the attack at Preventer Headquarters, and the days directly following, he had done things to make them feel that way. Maybe it was the foreboding presence he exuded these days. Or perhaps it was his occasional rages where he threatened his subordinates with death if they didn't follow his orders in an expedient fashion. There wasn't enough of him these days to explain to them that not following his orders quickly might kill them all. He only had so much of himself in reserve, only so much to give, only so much to hold onto before the next seizure would come on him and he would lose a little more. Yes, they were all in dread of him, but not as in dread as he.
The curtain by the window rustled, indicating a particular breeze. The wind always came in from the south, rarely the north where the window faced. The curtain rustled with uncertainty, a hesitance that bespoke a draft. Someone was approaching, opening the door that led to this upper level hallway. He had spent enough time in this room recently to learn all its many voices and signals.
Within seconds, the boot heels sounded against the floor. The approach was not hesitant or nervous, as everyone was with him now. It was probably Wufei, nothing troubled him, certainly not Zechs and his raging seizures.
The knock on the door was soft, too soft for Wufei's bluntness. No, it must be-
"Commander?" Hildre's light voice rebounded off the walls of the barren room.
"Commander Zechs, are you in-" she asked again as she opened the door and found him sitting in the creaking chair. What she saw next was enough to make her finally hesitant. With a little disbelief, Hildre's large eyes wandered the room, where books had been torn from their shelves and flung onto the floor.
"Commander?" she finally ventured after she closed the door and allowed the chaotic state of the room to sink in.
Zechs simply shook his head, not wanting to speak of it. It was plain enough that he had dismantled the room. There was no need to discuss it. He didn't want to think about it. The reasons for the outburst of rage that had made him tear the Library apart were already too heavy on his mind to talk about anything else.
Hildre, at first shocked by what she had obviously not thought to find when she first entered the room, now assumed her no nonsense expression. Zechs knew instantly that she would give him no solitude and no quarter.
"What the hell is this?" She tossed up a surveying hand to the mess. Zechs only raised a hand to his temple and then made a fist as if anchoring himself there. Hildre picked up a book and crossly slung it back on the pile.
"You shouldn't even be here, Zechs. There is nothing good for you here, and there is certainly nothing useful in tearing up the place."
"Leave me be, Hildre" he responded quietly.
"Oh! Stop acting like a morose child. You think Lady Anne will enjoy coming home to find that you have laid her library to waste?"
Zechs slapped his fist hard down on the arm of the chair. Hildre jumped a little as Zechs quickly rose to his imposing height, a number of inches above the young woman.
"We both know that she is not coming back" he spat at her. Hildre was undaunted by her frightful commander.
"Did you "see" that?" Her antagonistic attitude was not doing much to calm him.
"I don't need to "SEE" anything to know she isn't coming back."
Blue eyed Hildre sighed, clearly trying to reach past her annoyance and find some sympathy.
"Zechs, the time to despair hasn't come yet. We don't know all ends and only when we know there is no hope is it the time to despair. They won't kill any of them, Relena, Mariemaia, Anne. They are just hostages."
"Then why haven't we received any terms from their captors?"
"Well, we haven't received any body parts either. They are alive, Zechs. They wouldn't dare kill them." He turned his back on her and walked toward the uncertain window.
"You have no idea what they would dare. But, I know at least one of them is alive, Hildre. They won't kill at least one of them."
"Which one?"
"They can't kill her. It would be treason among them if they did." Behind him, Hildre's sharp footsteps brought her directly to Zechs' side where she pulled on his arm.
"What are you talking about? Who?"
Zechs just shook his head.
"Damnit, Zechs! I have had enough of your bloody riddles! Tell it straight for once. Why would it be treason?" Zechs resisted her grip and braced himself against the window frame, pushing the curtains aside roughly. The room was flooded with his dreaded light.
"I am not leaving until you tell me."
Fine. Stay forever. I'll never tell.
"Please, Zechs. We won't get them back if you aren't open about what it is you know."
"Hildre, I can't say what I know." I won't say. No force on this planet can make me either.
Hildre conceded, for a few moments at least. She sighed very heavily and started picking up the books. He knew she wouldn't let it go. Sure enough-
"I'm not stupid as you would like to believe."
Zechs turned to glance at her. Hildre continued to pick up books and replace them on the shelf, not favoring him with eye contact.
"I am not naïve, childish, or ignorant"
Before long she had filled a single shelf while Zechs, in his eternal turmoil, watched her.
"Nor am I blind!" She held onto one of the books and halted to meet his eyes. Zechs held his peace.
"I have a set of eyes, a good set, and good instincts as well. I have also worked with the Preventers long enough to put a few puzzles together." With one hand and eyes never wavering, she set the volume down on a table and started toward Zechs. Was it hot in here? Zechs was beginning to sweat.
"Now, would you please tell me what Anne has done, and what you are doing to protect her; because, it has been very plain to me why you are protecting her for some time now." She knows. No, she isn't stupid. Did Anne find me as obvious as Hildre?
He didn't want to talk about this. Talking would endanger him, and her. Everything inside was screaming to keep silent. He turned away. Hildre was on him in a second, pulling at his chest to keep him facing her. Somehow, the pressure Hildre was placing on him was enough to subdue him. He felt weak suddenly, a tremor alighted within. It was coming, again. Zechs braced himself, closing his eyes tightly.
"Has she joined the enemy?"
She is the enemy
"What has she done?" a shout this time, desperate. He was sinking to his knees, the heat rising in his head.
Anne! What have you done?
"Zechs!"
Zechs! The blood starting from his nose now, he saw Hildre cup her hand to catch it, understanding that it was happening again.
God, she is the enemy!
"Hold on to me, Zechs. Hold on, you'll be alright" Hildre spoke as the seizure began wracking his body with heaves and images.
"Just hold on, Zechs"
I won't let go. You can't make me let go!
Oh god, it hurt this time, it burned like never before. He was seeing it, seeing her, with them, one of them.
You didn't tell me.
I didn't remember. I wouldn't remember. I made myself forget
He was aware of one great jolt throwing him down and Hildre away. His head banged against the hard wood of the windowsill.
You'll not get by me, Lightning Count.
Gabriel
Hildre was on him again, holding his head against the floor. Perhaps he was bleeding their too now.
He is dying, Zechs. I can't keep him alive!
Was he choking now? He couldn't breathe!
I'll never return to this land…
Hildre pulled him over. He was swallowing his tongue. She was wiping the blood from his face as he began to breathe again. He felt the sweat running down his forehead and over his back. The images began to fade.
I was born for dying.
He shoots her through the back.
He closed his eyes, sleeping for a few moments. But the images, once seen, would now haunt. Slowly, he found he could not wake up. Everything had blurred to muddiness in his consciousness. It felt as though he were underwater or floating in space. Hildre was beside him still, holding onto him with her own sturdiness, he could sense that much. God, but he was weary of all this. The sudden wish that this seizure might have been enough to kill him was welcome. It would be a delight to be rid of his troubles for once in his life. Zechs was so tired of fighting. But the wish didn't last long, nor did any lingering hope that the effects of the seizure would prove fatal. And so it was that when his eyes finally opened to the world, free of the bleariness, Zechs was again prepared to hold his tongue and speak nothing of what he saw.
He wanted to speak of what he saw, just to free himself from the burden of it all. The seizures were becoming worse with every new set of images. Those that told of the past seemed to bring little physical pain, but he could almost weep like a child after seeing what had been. Those of the present had a balance between the pain of receiving the images and the pain of having to accept what he saw as truth. Of course, those of the future were the most difficult as Zechs would become inflamed with terror amidst a body-wracking struggle to survive the physical onslaught. Such was the case with what he saw of her, being shot, being killed. Of all the things he heard, himself asking her why she had lied about herself, and of her replying that she had forgotten. He would confront her again, he would see her again. But then, Zechs had always intended to confront her. There was no way that he would let Relena or Mariemaia stay there. He had waited too long already. They may indeed be dead by this time.
The baby was crying again. Sound traveled strangely in this house and he could always hear when Treize Alexander started wailing.
But he had hope. Anne was there. Anne was the one who had the power. Anne would keep them alive.
And if he told Hildre why, then he would never get Anne out of there alive. No one could know who she really was. Either they would kill her when they found her, or they would execute her for treason.
But for now, all anyone knew was that she was a prisoner of the Isle. Zechs would see that things stayed that way.
Unless Anne does something, unpredictable.
"Zechs? Can you speak? Gimme a sign here, man, I'm starting to get lonely here" Hildre was still with him, no longer scolding. She was starting to shake him hard now. As usual, the damn girl never let up on him.
"You are going to scramble my brains, you damn pain in the ass midget!" he responded, touching a hand to his forehead tentatively.
"I only seem small compared to behemoths that never cut their hair!"
"You mean as opposed to you who is having a constant love affair with scissors. Would it kill you to look try the feminine look?" He bit out at her. Nothing irritated him like comments about his hair. Hildre was thoroughly bristled.
"Doesn't seem to suit you very well, Lady Merquise." She shoved him up to a sitting position none too gently. His head swam painfully. Zechs looked around the room and groaned at the mess. After a moment he sighed and just shook his aching head.
"You know what she is going to say when all this is over?" He stuck his hands in his pocket and quirked up the side of his fine mouth. Hildre smiled at him a little, glad she won the argument of who was coming home. "What will she say"
"That I am a bloody, useless, love-struck, romantic fool"
"And are you?" Hildre smile ended in a mischievous smirk like Zechs' own.
"Well, we'll see. Ask me in a week's time, and we will see. Come on, we need to get back to HQ. There is much to be done" He started out of the room. Hildre practically skipped out behind him.
***************
IF I was inclined to speak to anyone, I would beg them to just give me the nutrients intravenously, because I HATE porridge. It is like vomit drained of bile and sweetened with sugar. However, I am not inclined to speak, and so I suffer this vile concoction to be spoon fed me by a frightened looking child who sits at my bedside and tries to keep me awake. Damn Gabriel for forcing me awake and cursing me with such culinary disasters. His punishments are terrible indeed. But let us get back to the dreaming.
Ireland, could it be any better? I was practically in pain to see the green hills and valleys of our western most territory. How many hours until I would be gone from this house? I couldn't wait. Less than an hour in Dover and I wanted away from that white cliffs with all haste. My sleep was fitful with anticipation. Early in the morning ours, I crept into Aria's room to find her awake as well. We turned on a low light and whispered in our eagerness together.
But the morning also brought with it my visit with Dr. Felius Alendro, an elderly man who claimed to be Greek despite his Latin sounding name. His brow sloped, stretching his browned skin, and he was extraordinarily thin and lanky. He was not an unkind man, but a little strange in manner, tending to speak in sound bytes and to repeat himself, saying "yes" and "no" more often than he should, as if having a conversation with an invisible colleague. I had a number of tests done; my blood was drawn, my abdomen poked at, a number of fluids taken for testing. I was given several injections. The first of which I was told was to prevent any pregnancy, the rest to prevent certain infections. This surprised me a little, since it was only after the injections that I was asked about the symptoms of pregnancy. I began to suspect pregnancy was merely a detail in this examination, since it I was given what I would later learn was "Abortion Serum" regardless of whether I was pregnant or not.
After the physical examination and various prodding had been concluded, Dr. Alendro began to ask me questions, dozens of them, and all pertaining to my behavior and my psychological experiences. He gave me a series of questionnaires, which took some time to complete, asked me about the food I had been given, my dreams and any night terrors or day dreaming that might have occurred. Lastly, he asked me about voices.
I had heard voices, of course. I spoke to myself often, needimg to know my own resources and the dictates of my own conscience and mind. But did I ever hear voices that were not my own? I do not think so. Did I ever have blackouts? Yes, in moments of extreme stress I have experienced memory loss, fainting. Had I ever experiences depression? I had attended Madame Lefrey's school for Privileged whores, hadn't I? Had I ever lost control of my actions so that I was physically unable to stop myself from acting? Had I ever committed acts of violence, unawares?
Oh no, I most certainly had been aware of killing those people, and I was quite in control of my actions, wasn't I?
The interview dragged on, while an assistant made use of some kind of technology kept in the lab. I didn't like this, I didn't need doctors. No person of the Isle needed doctors. We were strong enough on our own merits. After five hours of tedium and puncturing, I was released. Bram collected me and informed me that Aria and I would be leaving for Ireland the following morning. I willingly forgot all about the dreaded doctor's appointment and spent the remaining time in a whirl of excitement with my sister, to whom I was drawing closer to by the hour.
That night, after Aria and I had packed and were ready for bed, I climbed downstairs, for what I don't remember. I was stopped by voiced and remained hidden on the staircase to overhear Dr. Alendro and Bram speaking in a sitting room just off the area where I was descending.
"Its progression is slow at her age. Yes, slow now, but the disorder has clearly taken root." Alendro was saying in his smoky accented voice. "Soon, yes, very soon. More will come, yes. Likely by her twenties."
"Her father began exhibiting signs much later than that, not until his mid thirties" Bram countered. I stood stock still midway on the staircase and did not breathe.
"Yes, very late for Lord Delizabane. Analicia, no, it will be much sooner with her, as with her great grandmother, much sooner. Aria perhaps as well."
"What about the twins?"
"No, much too soon to tell, must what until puberty for them, must wait some time before any signs will appear. We will check them soon, not too soon though.
I tried to will my heart to stop briefly so that I could hear over its wild beating.
"And what of Kateline? How does she progress?"
Who was Kateline? I wish I had never found out.
"The disorder is strong in her, most strong, most violent. She keeps killing her tutors. Always hushed up, no one of great consequence. Her guardians are sending her off to the military service in the Rhineland. Yes, they fear for themselves, I think. Kateline is mad, most mad already; dangerously mad, but clever, and more important that they are. Merrick protects her, but does not protect her guardians. "
Oh dear.
"Merrick is disinterested in Kateline at the moment. She appears cunning enough. He seems to think that as long as she is in possession of all her faculties then her violence may be useful. As for Leecy, this is not well at all. I had hoped it would skip her. Do you think it may yet be some other defect?"
"Not likely, no. The genetics are strong in this family. Percentage is against your hope. But we may see. Ireland will do them well, yes. In Ireland we may see if it is the environment or the illness that is at work. Yes, Ireland. We will see after Ireland."
"Very well, I will inform the Count. The girl is not to be informed. Let us just pray it isn't already too late for our Leecy. In the meantime, should she go mad, we will begin planning for other options."
"Will you dispose of her?" the Doctor asked. Bram was silent for a moment.
"That is not something that needs to be spoken of now." He replied lowly so that I almost didn't catch it.
I ran back upstairs, trying to make my steps quiet. Once within my room, I found myself sinking to the floor against the closed door.
Madness? Was that what they were thinking of me? Was that what the others, those in the Alliance, those who were like Vespertine, thought of me? Was I going to go mad? Was I already mad.
I wanted to cry, I hadn't cried since my mother passed from her life and mine, but I wanted to now. However, I couldn't, and it made my fear stronger by making me think I might be mad if I couldn't cry. Perhaps this was a sign of that "Disorder". I felt myself in sink into shock, until finally, recalling the hope of Ireland they had spoken of, I felt strong enough to pull myself into the bed and to force sleep on myself. In the morning, I would be gone, with Aria, from this house. Not to see it again until that last day of the Rhineland War.
I wish I could tell you how I now pity that young girl I was. How wrong they all were in thinking me mad. Though I assure you, I was not mad in those days, not in the slightest. I was merely like a wounded animal, bearing claws when I could bear nothing else. No, not mad at all in those days. It would be later, when Treize Khushrenada came into my life, that I would go mad. And I was in good company for it.
Author's note:
I'm working on it guys. I SWEAR on whatever heavenly body you favor that this story WILL be completed. I just happen to be one of those slightly neurotic writers who will write an entire chapter and then erase it all in dissatisfaction. My desire for planning, and as Mark Twain said, that lightning bolt that is the right word, will be what delays this story's completion. But it must be done right or it must not be done at all. Thanks for your patience and thanks for sticking around J
~A.