Chapter 17

Sacrifice

"May you always live in interesting times"

Lucretzia Noin

Her arrival was early. But then, any arrival she made would be too early for Zechs. The first sign of her was a succession of cars pulling up the estate drive. She was in the first one, the others contained her luggage. He had no idea who had called her but if he had to guess he would pick Hildre, at the behest of Wufei who did not like that the baby lay in Zechs' care.

Dorothy carried herself as self-importantly as ever. Watching her from the nursery window that over-looked the drive, Zechs noted with irritation her body's easy curve and long neck. From one hundred yard she was a woman who could command a man's attention and he was as vulnerable as any that could feel lust for a woman. Dorothy knew this, and for the first time since he had fallen to earth in the last Epyon, Zechs wished that this were White Fang and that he might have her jettisoned into the atmosphere for being such an annoyance to him.

Anne would certainly not approve of that, he thought with a grin; but he imagined they'd both have a good laugh about it.

She didn't bother knocking, but swaggered inside the foyer with servants in tow. Her hair was still waist-length and pristine, but her head was covered by a flamboyant white hat with a great beaded bow on the side. Despite the warm weather, her clothes were tailored for traveling with a tightly-fitted, pin-striped coat and flowing white skirt. Her eyes darted about the place with some disapproval and she removed her gloves, sweeping a finger over the surface of a nearby sideboard. She rubbed the dust between her fingers and gave a "Hmm" as her men piled the suitcases by the stairs. Zechs stood by the third floor railing watching the circus below.

"You pack as if you think to stay the year." He called down to her. She looked up from the brim of her ridiculous hat and smiled that devilish smile.

"This house is very dirty, Milliardo. I expect better from the former Lightening Count. A good cleaning. Yes, that will do to start. But first I want the windows open." She gave the directions to her staff that set about opening the curtains. Zechs knew he should be angry with such forwardness, but he also knew that was what Dorothy wanted.

"Excellent. We should have some tea after I have freshened up. I'll take the second floor suite on the eastern side. It has a lovely view of the grounds in the morning." Dorothy started up the stairs, unbuttoning her jacket and sighing absently to herself. Zechs followed her, biting his lip and counting backwards from ten repeatedly.

"I used to come here often as a girl. This house first belonged to my grandfather and was given to Treize's father upon his marriage. We played here together, Treize and I . . . and Gabriel, of course." Dorothy gave him a taunting wink. "There is a pretty covered pergola on the veranda in the back. We should take tea there. I would love to see how the wood garden there has been kept." They reached the second floor suite she had selected and Dorothy immediately cast aside the curtains to let some light in. Her hat was plucked from her head and placed carefully on the tall dresser by the door. One by one, the men brought in her suitcases and trunks. Taking a hanger from inside the closet, Dorothy removed her jacket and hung it on the door, then sat down nonchalantly at the vanity and addressed her hair, reapplying lipstick and both smoothing and poofing her hair. Zechs leaned against the door frame waiting for the farce to end.

"Where is my young cousin?" she asked, smacking her re-colored lips.

"Asleep in his crib." Zechs muttered coldly.

"You will tell all your staff that I am now the Lady of the house until such time, if any, that the rightful mistress should return." A small traveling brush emerged from her purse and she set to brushing the long strands. "Before you raise any objection you should know that I am within my rights here. Lady Une is gone, Gabriel the same, and the only other family member is a considerable minor. Therefore it falls to the eldest reachable family member to manage this estate. That would be me." All primping concluded she stood before him confident and regal, smiling sweetly.

"If you keep smiling at me like that, Dorothy, I promise I will break your neck" answered Zechs. Dorothy brushed him off as she walked past.

"You needn't act like it is such a hardship. You of all men need a woman to take care of the little things."

"I've never needed a woman to care for me" he followed her back down to the foyer.

"Perhaps not, but you certainly never turned away from the comfort we offer. Noin first, Anne later, and there was our brief time together on Libra. Don't mistake my support to you there."

They walked to the backyard veranda and took seats at the table beneath the pergola. "I don't mistake anything where you are concerned, Miss Catalonia." Zechs bit out at her.

"I'm happy to hear it. But the fact remains that you will soon be engaged in combat and there must be someone here to manage things and care for the child. No relation of mine is going to be left to the incompetent care of servants. I don't care how fastidious Lady Une is, I've never met a servant I trust with the important things." She said all this in front of a waiting girl who Zechs knew as member of the house staff. The girl betrayed nothing of the discomfort she must have felt. Dorothy gestured lazily to her and then said "Tea for two please. Lemon, crème and sugar. Bring some scones or biscuits or whatever you people serve in these parts." Dorothy pronounced all her words carefully as if she wasn't sure the girl would understand the instructions. The servant nodded and rolled her eyes at Zechs as she passed back into the house. Zechs grimaced. He would have to make it up to the staff later.

Zechs rose from his chair and paced the veranda "So, is that why you have come here? Feeling the battle close and want a piece of the action?"

Dorothy dragged lazy fingers over the arm of the sun chair, smirking. "I have no taste left for war. You know that. Let's say I came to see your face."

"What pleasure has my face ever held for you, Dorothy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? But more to the point, I wanted to see your face now that you know about her."

Zechs chewed his lip and then with his temper in check, turned to Dorothy and presented his face. Dorothy looked a little surprised but leaned forward in her chair, inspecting him as though he were a fine piece of art.

"Amazing" She murmured.

Zechs chose not to hide his egotism. "Tell me something I don't know."

"You've already forgiven her." Dorothy leaned back, putting a delicate finger to her lip in thought as Zechs began pacing again.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh don't play ignorant with me! She lied to you, Milliardo. Lied to everyone."

Zechs shook his head "I understand those kinds of lies. In any case, she is not answerable to you."

"You don't think that if she had admitted who she really was that perhaps she might be here with you now. Mariemaia as well. All of what is happening now might have been prevented. The peace everyone bleeds for the build might be intact. If she had confessed her true name then how long do you think those people would have had your daughter?"

Zechs did not answer. He had not considered these things because he had not wanted to. The past could not be changed. The tea arrived then and Dorothy served them both. God, but he hated Dorothy Catalonia. She had traveled the miles from Italy to Brussels just to goad him. Zechs was tight-lipped and rigid for a while, drinking the tea down quickly. At length he responded in a deadly tone to Dorothy "I don't know how you know about Anne. But it can never be uttered again. No one else can find out about her. If they do, I will snap your neck and leave you to rot in the river." She just stared at him, the cup hovering halfway to her lips. There was silence for a time as Dorothy considered. Then she composed herself and changed the subject.

"Is there any change with Duo Maxwell?" She asked between a sip. Zechs ate a muffin and shook his head. She was trying hard to look self-possessed but he could tell his threat had rattled her.

"It must be awful for Hildre." Dorothy said. Zechs snorted. He knew Hildre was doing everything she could to ignore what was happening to Duo. He didn't pretend to know why, the same way he didn't pretend to know why women did anything. Dorothy put down her tea and looked thoughtful.

"Strange isn't it, how forgetful this world is? A handful of years ago, those boys saved the world and we tried to destroy it. Now, you and I sit there scott-free, and one of them lies dying in a hospital and there is little attention. A strange justice."

"Justice means nothing. You were able to buy your way out of prosecution. Anne never insisted you be brought to justice. Besides, the world was calling out for my blood and crying over Treize. As his relative, they wouldn't be so vengeful toward you. And then, not everyone knew how involved we were on Libra."

"Or weren't." She gazed at him over her teacup. They stared each other for a long moment.

"That's right, Dorothy."

Dorothy shut her eyes as if taking a cutting insult. She put her cup down and rose, walking toward the wood garden she had expressed an interest in. Her mouth was set in a hard line and her back was rigid as she walked away from him.

"And you're wrong, Dorothy." He called to her retreating form. "I haven't forgiven her."

Later, while I was in space, he told Zechs that I suffered from Multiple Personalities. Out of everyone, Zechs would be the last one I would want knowing this. Treize said he was the cause of the disorder, and in some ways that's true. I set out to forget everything that I was, which I knew would include the things that Treize treasured. I can't explain to you how I did this but that it was easy for me to go to bed concentrating on the act of forgetting and to wake up with less and less of who I had been. So in a sense, Treize did not cause it, I caused it, he was simply my reason for doing it.

All in all the point is not lost. I wasn't two weeks in Outer Space before I became Anne. The Saint. It was a dance, a puppet show with me taking the lead and pulling the strings. He wanted a soft Lady who believed in him utterly. I produced that, molded it into form, and gave it voice and expression until it achieved independence from me. When it came time to be hard and cruel, I would return and take the place of the soft femininity that Anne embodied. Soon came the days where I could not reemerge at will and that Anne, this other persona, constructed and built to be exactly what Treize wanted, an extension of his being, would not be dislodged. She was the other, the opposite, the creature of perfection living without any of the hardships that would make her Analicia. I could only sit beneath a watery surface of sleep and dream about her doings.

I'm sorry, dear reader, I feel you slipping away. I will be briefer now. It is only that I want you to understand how it happened.

Lt. Nichol. How he fawned over the soft creature I presented him. I remember so clearly that one night he implored me, or rather her, to support Master Treize. The words were still ringing inside our ears. His words, Treize, who said to her "Come back to me the Lady Une I used to be so fond of." She was heartsick with that command. I was brimming with satisfaction. It was my best revenge against he who had taken away what I loved. Now I took away what he loved.

It would have worked out fine if not for Nichol. Patient, obliging, honorable Nichol. He helped me back to my quarters on Barge that night, holding my arm as if I were a frail creature he feared to break. At the door, he paused and looked so desperate. That was when he pushed inside the room and I let him devour me. He made love to me as a boy always does, quickly, desperately and artlessly. All the while he whispered in my ear that I was his inspiration; that I shone brighter than any star to him. Nichol deserved better than for me to not even think of him during those moments. My thoughts were filled with how foreign his touch was, how incorrect. I only allowed it to happen once. If Treize learned of it Nichol would be dispatched quickly and painfully. Nichol, feeling spurned, was very resentful toward me afterward.

That is the sum of it. I lost the battle between us because after everything, obeying him, betraying him, revenging myself on him by creating another personality he could not respect, I lost to him because I had come to love him completely and I missed him utterly. In truth I have never loved anyone like that before or after him. As the weeks went by without him, I became more and more hollow. My rage at him melted into a dark nostalgia for my lord.

It was because of my understanding of our love that I began to feel warmth toward the Gundam Pilots. They had earned Treize's ardor and respect. Therefore, I loved them as well; loving them was a way to be close to him. This was the real process of becoming an extension, a vessel of his Excellency. In loving him, I had to love my enemy as he did. This is what it meant to be Treize Khushrenada. Before Tsubarov's bullet tunneled through my breast, I understood this perfectly and embraced the white hot sensation of sacrifice for him. My world darkened then.

I remember nothing after that but my eyes bursting through water to focus on the florescent above my head. The room was swollen with red flowers, roses, all from him. My shoulder felt stiff but there was hardly a mark on my chest where I had been shot. I pulled the oxygen mask from my face. It took moments to orient myself, to pull the needles from my arm. I wrapped the bed linens around me and walked out of the room. The nurse at the desk dropped her charts and screamed when she saw me. They fretted over me and made me sit back in the room with a robe on. The doctors examined me and sent for a high ranking officer to take charge of me. They told me Treize was in Outer Space with most of the military. I contemplated this union as I waited for an officer to brief me on what was happening in the world now.

It was Nichol, strangely enough. He had brought me back and now he sat with me and explained how the events had culminated to this pinnacle. My beloved was in Space facing off against the Earth's enemy. Relena, queen, then deposed, Treize now grand leader of the Earth Sphere, Milliardo Peacecraft its sworn destroyer, Noin a rogue agent, the Gundams hanging on the periphery, a great battle waiting to take place and Gundam 01 completely rebuilt with no one to pilot it. It all seemed like an incredible Shakespeare plot.

"Do not mistake temptation for opportunity" Nichol said to me when I asked him for a space suit and escort to the launch pad and 01. He was quite changed and resentful of me, possibly for spurning him, maybe for getting myself shot, probably for the fate of barge and the world it had brought down with it. I felt somehow whole again, as if the softness of Anne and my own natural hardness had melted together and I knew my course. I put my hand on his shoulder and spoke with my new voice.

"I must do as you advised me. I must support him. In all this world there is no one else who understands him as I do, save for Milliardo. He needs someone to stand by him and be his vessel. Please, let me do this Nichol. I beg you to allow me to help him."

I believe it was because I asked and did not demand that Nichol gave in. He kissed my hand and looked at me again with the look of awe. "I think in so many ways you are Treize Khushrenada. If he does not live through this, you will be Treize Khushrenada for those of us he leaves behind. So long as you live, he will not die." I nodded and breathed peacefully as he took me to 01.

You know the rest. You were there after all, my kind reader. You know what I did, flying into the fire of Libra to save him. The surprise in his voice when Treize realized it was me was much like it was the day he found me in that cell. This time, it was me saving him. I remember feeling at peace with myself in the moments after I pushed the charred cockpit door open; feeling that I had finally repaid him for my life. We could be equals now and when this war was over we would be equals. No more master and slave or savior and disciple.

After he gave the order to attack Libra, he dropped me back at the military satellite. Then he went to join his men. I was treated carefully on MOII, each soldier handling me like a resurrected prophet, the Saint. This suited me fine. After the initial adrenaline that comes with throwing yourself into the path of a mammoth energy cannon and also having recently arisen from a coma, I found myself beyond weary. I fell into deep sleep the minute I laid down on a cot. When I awoke, my old uniform was folded beside the bed. Don't ask me how it got there. When I was somewhat refreshed, I went to the bridge where no one contested my rank. In fact, as far as the crew was concerned, I was second in command answerable only to Treize, now master of the planet. Quite a promotion; almost worth getting shot over.

I was keeping tabs on the movements of Epyon and the Gundams when they told me he awaited me in his quarters. He had been very quiet about returning since it was unseemly for a general to leave any battlefield for almost any reason. No one would question him this time. The awe surrounding Treize was the strongest it would ever be. Every single last one of his people adored him, worshipped him, and loved him. You might expect sly glances or quiet snickering directed at me when I was called to the World Sovereign's private quarters. The whole scenario had some romantic flare to it. The loyal follower risking her life to save the general, the man and woman who had been rumored lovers long separated and now reunited on the eve of battle, the general abandoning the battlefield to see a woman. Surely, it was all these things, but I was not mocked for any of it, or maybe I was and simply didn't care. Either way, I went to him directly.

It was dark in his quarters, no lights on anywhere. But there was enough illumination from the lights of Libra and the battle nearby. I didn't knock and the door wasn't locked against me, which was a foolish lapse in security. The room was lined with thick-glass windows. Every few moments an explosion would light up the sparsely furnished room. Treize wasn't visible at first. So, feeling a little shy, I waited in the doorway, listening. There was no sound, save for what could make it through the solidity of the windows.

"We have anchors in this life." He finally said, profoundly as always. I traced his voice to the far side of the room, sitting in a chair against the wall, covered in shadow, watching the lights from the battle. His legs were crossed, jacket draped over the back of the chair and arms folded. I felt at first I should salute, but didn't.

"Yes" I answered when he said nothing else.

"What has been your anchor?" He asked, still watching the battle as if half of his mind was still out there. I thought for a long moment on the question.

"I can't really say. It has changed so much."

Treize rose, looking down at the ground as he walked toward the window, hands folded behind him. He seemed burdened and tired, weary. I sympathized with him. I hadn't been awake more than two hours and again I was feeling heavy with fatigue. This meetings importance didn't stop the dropping of my lids as I waited for him to speak again. Finally, he stopped in front of the glass, gazing out critically.

"You see there, in the distance." he put his finger to the glass indicating some spread of mobile suits on the left flank where the explosions were most numerous. "Epyon, I think. That's where Zechs is fighting. He'll never stop."

I walked to his side and looked where he pointed. Surely it must be Zechs, or perhaps Heero. But it seemed to both of us that the fury of that particular spot would most appropriately be him raging through his war.

"This has been my anchor, holding me to life for as long as I can remember. This fighting. My desire to see the pieces move according to my design, it's like creating brilliant art, the sum of my spirit unfolding on a massive canvas." He let his hand press against the cold glass. "This is what I've lived for; this is my creation, my masterpiece. I keep waiting for so long to be satisfied by this final culmination of my effort, this great and beautiful battle. And now I am waiting for it to fill the all the blank spaces inside me. Yet, there is still a vacancy, like my organs have been hollowed."

Treize looked as vacant as he felt. What a contrast to me, who finally felt communion inside, unity and fulfillment, like we had switched places. It had been years since I had seen him without the transcendent surety that defined his personality. I longed to give it back to him. The slump of his shoulders was pronounced as he leaned against the hand that pressed the glass. He seemed in a kind of sadness that bordered on dread, as though his finding his greatest desire in life would sate nothing. Without hesitation, I pulled his hand off the glass. His lips were parted and he was staring down at the floor. Then, he slowly looked up to me as if he had doubted I was real. Just as slowly, he put both his hands on the side of my head, weaving fingers in my hair and touched his forehead down to mine. "It has been . . . hard. These . . . months alone." he whispered when I put my hands over his.

"I forgive you" I knew it was all I needed to say. Our arms went around each other and I knew the peace that comes from releasing another person from torment. Again I knew the warmth of my greatest friend and hardest won love.

We stayed that way a long time before it progressed. The whole of it seemed blissfully slow though it couldn't have been that long, hands roving over each other, eyes closed and foreheads still together, to be replaced by lips. Furious kisses and slow tentative caresses.

When it was finished we lay together watching the lights flicker outside the window. We were both tired but neither dared fall asleep, too content to give up the extended moments. I remember well how the space between his shoulder and neck fit my head perfectly and how neither of us said anything for a very long time while our fingers interlaced. I was just on the edge of consciousness when he spoke.

"When the battle is over, you will have all our mobile suits destroyed." He barely whispered the order to me. I looked away from the battle hanging in space before us and gazed up at him in puzzlement, his eyes were closed and he looked peaceful. The slowly emerging implications of such an order caused my throat to close. More than a ludicrous command, it was a command that gave no thought into victory. At length he opened his eyes and shifted me in his arms. Slowly, dreadfully slowly, I began to know his mind.

"I hope that it will be Zechs who does it, but one of the Gundam Pilots may feel enough righteous indignation toward me. I will play the appropriate villain for them so that it will all be done correctly."

Still, I was locked in stunned silence, the blood slowly rushing to my temples. I was only half conscious of grabbing his forearm tightly, as if trying to hold him down and keep him from this choice. We looked at each other a long time, he with a calmed but almost regretful expression and me with hysteria coming to a boil beneath the surface. I know I must have looked desperate and frightened to him, because he stroked my hair and face as one would a skittish animal. My lungs burned from holding in my breath. Treize meant to kill himself.

"It is strange, Analicia. You are the thing I regret leaving and yet you're being here gives me the strength to do this." Treize kissed my forehead and I clenched my eyes shut against the foreign burning sensation. This could not be! How far had we come and how much had we gone through to final reach this point only to have it taken away. Unconsciously I beat a fist against him as I began to break down.

"You are going to let them kill you" I choked out as the tears flooded down my face. "Please, don't. Oh God, please don't do this!" I clung to his body, pleading as I never had to any living thing. My mind was frantic with the impending loss of him. He wouldn't return from this battle. He would extend out his arms and let himself be crucified while I stood at the foot of the cross and wept. I felt like half my body was being amputated. My face was soaked as was his neck when he embraced me so that my face pressed against him, holding me down and trying to soothe my tirade. Treize breathed unsteadily as he did this and I knew he was both mournful for me and afraid of his decision. But still, he had made his choice. He wouldn't go back; not for me, or anyone.

"Please continue it for me, my beloved. Please see that the dream endures. When I am gone, hold on to the peace I am dying for." His voice cracked as he spoke and he sounded so young, every inch a boy making a man's decision. I cried hysterically as he kissed up and down the side of my face. After a long time, I exhausted myself of tears and energy, and released my vice-like grip on him. Everything was dragging me down into surrender. His voice, hushing me was quiet and calming in my ear.

"Go to sleep, my Anne, my Leecy."

The last I saw of him was his clouded eyes watching me as the battle softly illuminated his skin.

Treize was gone when I awoke. The bed sheets were cool and I knew he had been gone a long time. My eyes felt sore from crying as I went to wash my face. All my limbs felt heavy like I carried great shackles about them. The urge to keep my head bowed and to weep again was awful. When I went to dress myself, I found his letter to me tucked inside my jacket.

My Dearest Lady,

I pray that you sleep at ease this night. It is a ferocious temptation to linger here with you lying next to me. I can't help but feel somewhat angry with us both that we wasted so much time before acknowledging that which held us together all these years and that this night might not have been the first time we met as true lovers. But I know that is my own doing. You have been my most loyal and trusted friend and it has been my deepest regret to witness your consistent unhappiness. I wanted to erase your woes almost upon the instant I met you. Quietly, I have admired your fortitude and relentlessness. Admittedly I have been jealous of your unyielding will. You never once allowed me to move you the way I have moved all others. It was my frustration with you, founded on that resistance to me that made me imprison you at my side. But you knew me and understood that it was the war between us that maddened me so. Had you succumbed, I think it likely that I would have cast you aside or kept you merely as a trophy that commemorated my victory over your country.

But I tell you now with absolute equanimity that I concede defeat to you. You won the battle long ago with your stalwart devotion to my dream. I knew even then that it was that which you loved and not me. Vainly I hoped that one day you would come to love me as you did my grand design for the world's future. But failing that, I tried to be satisfied that if you could not love your captor, you would love his ideals. Whatever kept you near me and on my side, dear lady, I would be grateful for. I do not pretend to be blameless in concealing your sister's incarceration in Nairobi. Telling you of your sister's survival would have given you a link back to your old life, a life that I had seen as the cause of your misery. I couldn't risk losing you to that old life, even though it made you unhappy. It was selfish of me, dear Anne, but I couldn't give you up. The world and I needed you. I was selfish, I have always been selfish. I pray you can forgive me this terrible flaw.

That is one reason I do this. I have taken so much from this world and must now make a final sacrifice to it. Enough have gone ahead of me. It's time to end this time of violence. I will give over my own body to that end. I wish that I could be fearless in my decision, but even as I write this my hand shakes with the idea of dying. I feel a timorous surge in me when I think of death, for I feel as though I've just fallen in love with life. I pray that what they said in the cathedrals is true and this is not the end.

I know you will cry for me, but please know that I am happy in this. It is my joy to be able to believe in this world, and to love its people. I beg you, my lady, to do the same. Love them like my children and feel no dread. Be as exalted by them as I have been.

And to this request I must add more. Firstly, you must see to the welfare of Relena Peacecraft. I have much hope for the future pinned on her, but I fear her childishness will impede her progress. She will need guidance from one who understands the harsher side of this world. Do your best by her.

Secondly, if he should survive this war, have a care for Zechs Merquise. More than any one I have known, Zechs needs care. He has ever been driven by loneliness and confusion. I beg you lady, though you may see him as an enemy after these days, should he fall into your sphere, take care of him. I owe him much and have repaid him poorly. I would have you fulfill my debt.

Lastly, my darling, I ask that you find happiness. It would take away the value of my sacrifice if it should cast you into an extended misery. I expect you will grieve, as is natural. But do not tie yourself down to my grave. My final order to you, live and love as much as you can. I would pay the highest price for your freedom and your love.

It has been my joy to have you at my side.

Until we meet again,

Treize Alexander Khushrenada

I read the letter several times, committing the words and orders to memory. I remember breathing deeply several times and sitting still for a long while before I pocketed the letter. Then I composed myself and went to the command deck. I had contact with him a few times, discretely imploring him to be careful, hoping foolishly that he might turn aside, but knowing he wouldn't. In the end, it was Wufei, and not Zechs who finished him. I could hear the satisfaction in Treize's voice when the Pilot challenged him. He put on a wonderful performance, egging the young man on and playing the arrogant villain. When Wufei struck the killing blow, Treize sounded at peace in his final victory. Then his Tallgeese II burst in the night.

I remember speaking words that didn't seem to come from my throat. It took only twenty minutes for the numbness to pass. There was no time to weep or grieve. I felt inside my pocket and grasped the letter tightly, remembering his words and his orders. When Relena came aboard, I offered her the chance to take revenge on me for the death of her foster father. It was a moment of weakness, but Relena's mercy spared me the dishonor of insubordination to my dead lord. Soon, the fury of the event surrounding us made it impossible for me to linger on Treize. We had to finish this. We had to save the world. Thanks to you, dear reader, we did.

There wasn't even a body to recover you know. The cockpit had completely disintegrated. The soldiers mourned loudly, feeling the loss of their general like the loss of their king, their father, their god. I thought of how he would have reveled in their love for him. They then proclaimed me the new Sovereign of the World Nation. I allowed them this, knowing the title and position were transitory. Later, as you will remember, I met with the Gundam Pilots on MOII and gave them official pardons. None of them would be hunted or imprisoned. They were our saviors. From you, dear reader, I learned of Zechs' fate. Noin was with us when you gave the sparse details of his final moments. It was the most incredible thing to me that Noin should collapse sobbing into my arms at the news. Perhaps she saw me as kindred in grief. We had both lost our great loves in this war. Her despair was quick, for she quickly adopted the idea that Zechs was alive somewhere and wouldn't concede until she saw a body. I wished I could have had such faith for Treize's fate, and such a miracle.

My grief lingered on, under the surface. There was much to do and I had my orders. I undertook the guidance of Relena and aided her in her involvement with the new government. It was cathartic in many ways. Relena has a soothing presence and compassion that I took much comfort in. I had many options in front of me now, being free as Treize had made me. I thought perhaps to return home to the Isle, but also felt I was needed within the new Earth government. There would be time for the Isle and a reunion with my little sister later. Now, there was work to be done. However, there was a last great complication. Noin and I were drawing up plans for the Preventer department when it happened. I awoke early in the morning with horrible pains in my abdomen and blood soaking my bed sheets. At the time I was sharing an office apartment with Lucretzia and she was there to rescue me. Noin brought me to Sally Po, as they had been good friends during the war. Six hours later Sally told me I had suffered a miscarriage.

It was then, dear reader that I gave up. I resigned myself to sleep. I couldn't bear anymore and continue living. So I bottled up my past, all memories of pain and suffering and cast them out. Analicia took all of these burdens as they belonged to her and accepted the exile. It was given over to Analicia, the first and the deepest who has slept all this time.

Now we all need to wake up.

That is the end of it, faithful reader of my life. That is all I can bare to remember of where I came from, the roads I traveled and the travelers I met, the dusty and forgotten footsteps that lead me to this time and place. The blame is mine, I understand that and I feel you understand that too. But you see I had to know. I had to look back and take it all in again so that I might know what to do from this point. Now I ask you, who have been with me all this time, counsel me. I have felt you there in the back on my mind, like a silent audience member, retracing my steps with me. Slowly over the course, I have felt you slipping, fading into the darkness until I thought you had left me. I didn't want to go on this journey alone. Thank you for staying with me, for keeping me brave while I inspected these ghosts. But what now, you who so carefully tread my thoughts? I can see your face, reading the lines of my memory even as I put them forth. I don't know how it is possible that you could do that, but I trust you. Tell me, what I should do now with all of this. How can I make it right? How can I save those that remain? I trust you, Heero, I trust you. Tell me what I should do.

"Go to Zero." He muttered raggedly. Relena stroked his face and urged him not to speak. Heero's eyes were darting back and forth over the room. His face was so very pale but it seemed the bleeding had abated somewhat. Now he lay with his head in her lap, concentrating on keeping his breathing steady. Relena had made a tourniquet of sorts out of a torn sleeve. Okami lay sleeping uneasily in the corner, curled up into a fetal position. Heero inhaled deeply, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Go to Zero" he said again, louder this time.

"Heero, please, don't try to speak."

In his hand, Heero turned the small communication device, feeling its smooth surface warm. It was still off, conserving its power. He wasn't ready to make the call to Quatre yet.

"Go to Zero" he urged her again, pushing an invisible barricade. If she went to Zero, she could tell him what he needed to know, what information he could tell Quatre, who would tell Zechs.

In his fevered thoughts he cursed Zechs for his weakness in Sight. Everyday between the end of the first Eve War and the second, Heero had spent an hour inside the cockpit of Wing Zero, letting the machine possess his brainwaves, expand his consciousness and push the boundaries of mental possibility. He was strong with this power, but still did not completely control it. Zero nested in the brain, no longer tethered by the cockpit, it had long ago tutored the hemispheres of his brain into a heightened state. It came and went at its own will. Sometimes he bled like Zechs did; sometimes it was a steady current of information in his head, like watching a film. Then, on the rarest occasion, it showed him things he didn't understand and couldn't identify. Zero was mysterious but he had learned to trust the abilities it had given him. From the moment she lay down, Zero had allowed him to watch the unfolding memories of Lady Une. Heero didn't know why he was able to watch her mind. He had never been able to do it with another. But now seeing the progress of her disease over the years, he thought perhaps that was the reason. The significance was yet unseen, but Heero knew that Zero only showed him things that were of value; that would help him win. Now the advantage had finally presented itself. She somehow knew he was there watching her, reliving with her. Now, he could only push her toward the source. If she wanted answers, he knew of no other authority.

"Go to Zero." He urged a third time and Relena held him tighter.