Chapter 16
U.C 0094.2.10 12:25 EOST
Anaheim City, Luna, Earth Sphere
"Now Arriving at Anaheim Electronics Headquarters, Please depart from the monorail using the door to your right. Thank you for riding the Internal Anaheim Lunar Monorail, we hope to see you again soon."
The cheery recorded female voice played over the train's intercom, directing hapless office drones in the employ of Anaheim Electronics to depart and begin another day of work as faceless cogs in the greatest company to ever exist. A pervasive aura of dullness hung over everyone, like the endless work these black suit-clad men and women had been subjected to had drained them of all joy in life. I felt like these were the type of people who would consider having two cheap beers instead of one during their weekly coworker karaoke nights to be a 'wild night out'.
The inclination to mind their own business, or to be so self absorbed in their own that they ignored everything else, made it the perfect place to smuggle a terrorist leader and a group of his subordinates into the headquarters of Anaheim Electronics in order to commence with highly illegal negotiations about attaining all the materials needed to sustain a semi-illegal guerilla war against the ruling world government.
I happened to be that terrorist leader, and I also looked very similar to most wanted man in all of human history, Char Aznable, so I was rather pleased that the office drones in question only saw a blonde man in the same kind of cheap black suit and a pair of visor like sunglasses holding the same type of leather attache case that they did, and made the reasonable assumption that we were one and the same. It was rather nifty.
"Well this appears to be our stop, shall we?" Kaises M Buyer, the closest person in my Neo Zeon that filled the role of a chief intelligence operative at the moment, ushered us off the monorail with a cheery smile that still managed to exclude a degree of sleaziness. Kaises had been my front man for negotiating with Anaheim so far, paving the way for Neo Zeon to settle Char's debt with the company and opening his contacts up to the idea arranging a meeting for me and the ones in charge of Anaheim to make a more long term relationship.
"Now Departing for Anaheim Electronics, New Antwerp Division." The train chimed behind us before quickly and noiselessly sliding out of the station.
"So who's the contact we're meeting Kaises?" I asked, pretending to read a newspaper as I talked, which of course was Anaheim's internal company newspaper, noting the various going ons of the company and a surprisingly interesting gossip column about the higher ups. Okay maybe I wasn't entirely pretending.
"Well Mr. Sutton, I managed to arrange a late luncheon with my friend in public relations, so he can run you through what will be required of Imago Trading during the transition into a Anaheim subsidiary." Buyer said jovially, speaking at a normal level as our group made its way to the receptionists. "As Mr. Kadwell only hired my services for a consultation, I'm afraid that the heavy lifting will be left up to you and your associates from Imago Trading to convince the Anaheim suits that you really are the catch you sell yourselves as so far in our talks."
"Mr. Kadwell sent us here because we are the best of Imago Trading. I have no intention of allowing his trust in me to be misplaced Mr Buyers." I put on a cocky grin as I continued to scan the people around me from behind the aviators I wore to obscure my eyes and break up my facial profile. At the moment I was posing as the negotiator for Imago Trading, an up and coming mining corporation with its operations based out of the Asteroid Belt that was looking to get bought up by Anaheim. The owner of Imago Trading, Elias Kadwell, was another alter ego of mine that I had used during my visit to Von Braun to settle Char's debts with Anaheim.
My Elias Kadwell disguise was rather close to how I naturally looked, so the Jake Sutton look required me to change my appearance more. So I was currently in a deeper disguise than I really liked being. My long hair had now died coal black and had been messed up into an even greater amount of curls that it naturally had. The end result was that it looked like I had made the horrible fashion decision to put my hair in a perm, then grow out that hair while maintaining the perm. A bit of latex and makeup made it so that I now had a strong roman nose and more wrinkles in my eyes to match with Jake Sutton's older age. Finally I'd been put through a tanning bed to make my pale skin temporarily turn to that of someone of Mediterranean descent.
The stylists that had been dug up in Palau knew their stuff, I'll give them that, but I could not wait to return to my 'natural' good looks. I looked too much like a hawk in human form now.
"Hello and welcome to the headquarters of Anaheim Electronics." The artificially cheerful voice of a middle aged secretary greeted us as our group reached her specific portion of the vast front desk. "May I please have the name of your group and your registration number?"
My turn to enter the stage. "Jake Ulysses Sutton, Imago Trading Group, registration number 139700. We're expected."
Just the right amount of arrogance to that statement, enough to make the receptionist pay direct attention to me but not enough for her to remember me as anything special after our business was concluded.
She kept a picture perfect smile on her face as she punched in what I had given her, thanks to the mirrored glass screen placed behind the receptionist desk, which some modernist architect undoubtedly thought was the height of social commentary for some unknown reason, allowed me to see that nothing red popped up after the information I had given her was entered in. And she didn't reach down under her desk to press a hidden button to alert security that known terrorists had entered the building.
I should lay off the spy novels in my free time.
"Ah yes Mr Sutton, I have you here and right on time too. You have a reservation in the Nagano Lounge on the fifty-first floor, correct sir?"
"Completely right, may we be on our way or is there something else?"
"Yes sir, I do have to issue your party passes for them to be able to enter the elevator and pass through security."
I raised an eyebrow above my aviators. "And the reason why you haven't given me those passes already is?"
She looked slightly abashed at that. "Unfortunately it is company policy that the reception desk doesn't issue those passes, you'll have to go to the security desk to get those issued sir."
I put on my irritated attitude. "And where would the security desk be exactly? I have business I'm eager to get to work on here."
"Yes sir, just follow the path to your right and it's the desk at the end of the line." Sure enough there was a red carpet that ran parallel to the desk and it headed toward the direction she pointed us in.
"Very well." was all I replied with, doing my best to keep the impression in her mind that I was nothing other than the average corporate higher up who thought he was more important than he actually was. The kind of person she interacted with every day.
Onwards I lead my group, who asides from Buyer I didn't know that much. Zinnerman and his team had a job to do, and would have been very conspicuous in this type of corporate environment. So my team was made up of non-conspicuous soldiers who were my guards rather than any negotiator. My captains had insisted I go with a proper guard to meet with Anaheim this time, to give the impression that we were a respectable group of insurgents. I thought that idea was rather oxymoronic, insurgents only become respectable to the likes of Anaheim after they've won.
At the security desk it was another show and dance. Yes, this was the group from Imago Trading. Yes, we had been to the front desk. Yes, we would like the cards now. Do you know who I am? Someone far above your pay grade, so hurry it up peon.
The guard as the security desk eventually decided to be accommodating, once he had phoned the reception desk. The six of us were handed small keycards on lanyards, then an escort of security guards to take us to a private elevator to facilitate a quicker arrival at the lounge. Apparently, our arrival was eagerly anticipated.
Buyes and I shared a look at that pronouncement.
We were taken through the back hallways of Anaheim Electronic Headquarters, down corridors that were all the same type of steel. I guess that decoration was only needed when you needed to impress customers and employees just who they worked for. Or we were using maintenance back entrances to move around, might be more accurate.
"In here sir." A non-distinct security guard swiped his own pass card to open the elevator doors. His partner took up a flanking position on the other side of the doors.
"Thank you my good sir, and might I have, I find your choice of sidearm to be personally comforting." Buyes complemented the guard with an easy going grin. "It's always good to know that Anaheim considers the protection of its partners and employers to be a foremost priority."
By the time he had finished speaking, we had moved into the elevator. The guard Buyes had spoken to only had the time to get out a slightly confused "Anaheim appreciates that sir" before we had been whisked upwards.
"Are they carrying anything special?" Curiosity drove me to ask. Perhaps Anaheim armed its personal guards with railguns, or something even deeper from the realm of science fiction. This was the greatest zaibatsu to ever exist.
"Oh no, the guards are just window dressing. They don't carry anything more impressive than the standard issued Zeon or Federation nine millimeter." Buyes said. "The real defensive measures are, as I've heard from the rumors, are the automated turrets throughout the building, in each and every room."
"Ominous." I sarcastically said.
"Indeed, and those rumors I mentioned are the more common one's out there, which I'm fairly certain where sent out by Anaheim themselves. Make of that what you will Mr. Sutton."
Further conversation was cut off when outside light flooded into the elevator. The steel tunnel that I had initially taken to be the inside of the doors had actually been the walls of the elevator shaft, the doors themselves were glass. The tunnel cutting to entirely glass provided all of us with a prime view of the Anaheim City skyline. This city was actually built on the slope of a crater rather than inside of one, like other lunar cities. Anaheim Headquarters was, of course, the tallest building in the city both in location and constructed height, so we had a bird's eye view of the maze of buildings below us. Just past Anaheim City I could see just over the lip of the crater that Granada was constructed in, and just past Granada was the bump in the distance that signaled the location of New Antwerp.
The Granada Triangle, its four component cities sitting astride the lunar equator, was completed with the out of view Anaheim city, located to the east of Anaheim City. While Von Braun had the most population of any lunar city, the Triangle was the most populous region of the Moon. It was also the part of the Moon, as I had learned, that had the largest concentration of secessionist movements mostly due to the off and on presence of Zeon during the 0070s and 0080s.
Fertile breeding ground, I mentally noted, for the types of groups I wanted to bring under the aegis of the AEUG. Once I had gotten them into an unified whole.
The elevator alerted us with a soft ding and opening doors that we had reached our destination. Before I could move, one my guards got my attention.
"Let us go ahead of you supreme commander. To make sure this isn't an ambush." He said, a hint of pleading in his voice. I considered him and his fellows for a second before silently nodding my head. The four guards quickly swept out of the elevator, two taking up positions on either side of the elevator while the other pair gave the lounge a once over. The bulges on the backs of their jackets made me think that Zinnerman hadn't armed them with just pistols.
"Clear sir." A different bodyguard whispered to me. I, to my credit, did suppress a sarcastic comment about how effective their protection would be in the face of automated machine gun turrets. They were just doing the job Zinnerman had given them.
Stepping completely into the Nagano Lounge proper, Buyes at by flank, I was struck by the emptiness of it. The lounge was white, blindingly so, with the carpets and tables glittering gray color being the only break. It's layout was odd too, at the lounge's highest point sat a pair of semi circle couches with a projector table in the middle, the rest of the lounge's contents seemed to expand the further away a person would be seated from the center. It gave the entire place the vibe of a ruler holding court, the favored sat at the seat of power and the nobodies stayed with the nobodies. Judging by the walls being entirely made up of windows, the lounge took up an entire floor of the building yet, during the middle of the day, it was completely empty and silent. Not a cook, bartender or waiter in sight.
But once I saw the negotiating party(or rather negotiator) that Anaheim had sent, the state of the lounge made much more sense. Only the queen of Anaheim could empty an entire floor of their headquarters like this.
"Ah, looks like the bitch herself came out to play." The Will manifested its voice, sounding like it -he- was just over my shoulder and whispering into my ear. "Her chops must have been salivating ever since word reached her that we were crawling back to her with even more gold like a whipped dog."
"Scathing as usual. But do you have something useful to add this time? Or will this be another round of menial criticism because if so, let's wait until after this very important meeting." I mentally shot back. "This is a very important meeting, as I'm sure you can remember from your own experience."
"Oh I remember alright. I remember the burning humiliation at having to stain my cause with the rotted fingers of Anaheim. I'd hoped that you'd have learned from my mistake, but it appears that you were created with intelligence in mind, clone."
"Riddle me this then, ghost, who exactly am I supposed to go to besides Anaheim in this situation? If you happen to know of any other company with a monopolistic stranglehold of the arms industry that wants to jump into bed with a band of terrorists, the time to speak up is now."
Frustration bled into the Will's word. "I don't but you seem to lack the proper understanding to realize just quickly the rot of Anaheim will seep into your Zeon. Soon they'll be the puppet master making you and the Federation dance to their whims. Her whims actually."
"She needs me just as much as I need her. It's too risky for Anaheim to employ a homegrown force to ensight conflict with the Federation, the earthnoid's spec ops would sus out Anaheim before any worthwhile profit could be generated. My position is weaker than Char's was yes, but Char negotiated with the understanding that he wasn't going to outlive his war. I, on the other hand, have every intention of surviving."
Life, now that it had been restored to me, had proved too sweet to willingly surrender.
"Commendable attitude, but it won't last long." The Will then did as the Will does, and scurried off back to his enclave in my soul. Real neighborly soul tumor, I couldn't wait for his next spree of judgemental thoughts. Clearly he -no, it- had retained memories pertaining to Char's negotiations with Anaheim four years ago, but didn't want to be helpful. Why couldn't I end up with a bit of Amuro's soul along for the ride?
I shook my head as I ascended the final steps to shake off the rather rude mental flick the Will had sent my way for that last comment I had projected at him. Alright the pregame was over, game time.
"Mrs. Carbine, it is a true pleasure to be able to meet with you like this, truly." I greeted the most powerful woman on the Moon, perhaps even the most powerful woman in all of human history, with the verbal groveling and wide smiles. "When us at Imago Trading were told that someone from Anaheim Headquarters would be willing to meet us, well, we never imagined in our wildest dreams that it would be the CEO of Anaheim herself!..." A raised hand and a sharp frown cut me off.
"I want you to listen to this." Her imperious voice ordered, and at her command, a news feed materialized from the holoprojector in between us.
"This is Harpeet Singh, Dakar News Network, reporting from the Dhaka Disaster Zone, where just two days ago, the city was hit by an earthquake, which measured 8.7 on the Richter scale. It is the third such earthquake believed to have emanated from the Himalayan Frontal Thrust to rack the northern Indian subcontinent since the Destruction of Lhasa early last year and is the twelfth earthquake to reach 8.0 on the Richter Scale since then. Nearby Kolkata has also suffered from the aftershocks. Authorities have been scrambling to respond since the quake and while first responders from all over northern India have converged on Dhaka to assist, the death toll continues to rise. We only have rough estimates but the death toll passed thirty thousand this morning, and looks set to march to forty by the end of the day."
"The earthquake that struck Kolkata shouldn't have caused the amount of damage that it did, you see the city had hired architects from Anaheim to earthquake proof the city using our patented designs. However the effort was never completed because the city decided to short my people. So construction efforts were halted, but the city officials decided to say that Anaheim had finished but that the architects had been derelict in their responsibilities so as to put responsibilities for the death toll onto us. They concocted this exactly two hours in a closed doors meeting that took place in an underground bunker, lead shields with no technology present. Not even the minutes were kept. Yet Anaheim knew exactly what had been said within five minutes of the meeting's end and the officials were brought back into line exactly fifteen minutes after that. " Green eyes tried to pin me with a flinty stare. "So did you honestly expect that I'd be fooled by this pathetic display of smoke and mirror Kaises concocted?"
Well she came out of the gates strong. It'd be the height of rudeness to not do the same. I straightened by posture, casting aside the slight slough of my shoulders that I had been using to obscure the broadness of my torso.
"With my position being what it is, well, a certain amount of discretion is expected, yes?" I answered her, taking off my aviators and stowing them inside my jacket's inner pocket. "It would take a sizable amount of effort to scrub my presence from your entire surveillance apparatus if I wore the whole getup."
"At least you possess some intelligence, even if you borrowed it from Mr. Buyes, Mr.?" She asked, gesturing for me to take a seat.
"Frontal, Full Frontal." I said in a pleasant tone. Her responding sniff of disdain spoke volumes of her opinion about my assumed name. "And you are Martha Vist Carbine, CEO of Anaheim Electronics."
"You can do basic research, good." Martha Vist, of the ever powerful, wealthy and filicidal Vist dynasty, replied, opening a folder and taking out a sheet of paper. "Kaises forwarded this contract to my office through his contacts in our Grenada facilities, and I only have one question for you.."
"What kind of fool do you take me for?"
Thunk, Thunk, Thunk, Thunk. Four turrets popped out from the ceiling as Martha Vist spoke, one pair pinning my guards in place and the other putting their reticles squaring on me. I couldn't help but notice that Kaises lacked any threat to his person entirely but there were bigger fish to fry, or to keep unfried now.
"I was already sold the promise of a renewed Zeon-Federation war four years ago by Char Aznable, and look how that turned out? Do you see a war, because I certainly don't." She took a sharp breath before pinning me with the smile of a shark. "So why should I enter into whatever deal you've concocted with you, a poor man's imitation of his better?"
"Surely you've read the offer, ma'am." I said, injecting false respect into the honorific. "Certainly there is nothing that we ask of Anaheim that would be too onerous for the greatest manufacturer to ever exist?"
"Flattery may seem to get you everywhere, but I'll need more than well deserved comments from you if you want my backing." Despite the disapproval-or was it really approval?- Martha seemed to show for my comment, she did swish her honey blonde hair at my comment.
The momentary pause in conversation allowed me the chance to get a good look at "The Empress of the Moon", a title that she picked up sometime in the early 0080s based on newspaper records. For a woman moving into her mid-fifties, she still managed to be easy on the eyes. Her hair, nails, eyelashes and eyebrows done to perfection. The makeup she used, concealing the worst of age while highlighting the best of it. Her dress, a knee length number that was a cream color up the middle with the sides colored cobalt blue, accentuated her figure while not giving it all away. Taking it all as a sum, it was more evidence for the pile that Martha Vist Carbine was an old hand at the game of making money and definitely knew how to press her natural advantages.
How much of her looks could be attributed to the wonders of modern-future?-cosmetic surgery was anyone's guess. Not that I'd ever go for her, her soul was more rotten than a worm infested apple left in the summer sun. Only a true nihilist could love her.
"Should I start with why you need us, or the benefits of continuing to work with Neo Zeon?" I asked, tossing the question out overflowing with confidence. She needed us, Anaheim needed us. I just had to sell what they already knew back to them with a more equal exchange rate than I would've gotten in the future-past.
"Oh I always love a good bit of groveling, let's start with that" An imperious hand wave was given while Martha continued to stare me down. The lounge began to feel much colder than it had been.
"I hate to disappoint but groveling isn't on the menu." I said, giving a thin lipped smile. "The Earth Federation has, once again in their eyes, just won a stunning and complete victory against the dastardly Zeon. When such a victory has occurred in the past, did the Federation move to bolster its military forces? No, it opted to downsize, always falling back on the logic that this time the enemy was gone for good. Char Aznable's foiled mass extinction gambit will result in the Federation making the same choice it always has in regard to military spending: downsize. And that isn't good business for Anaheim, now is it?"
"I hope you don't believe that the Federation military is our only source of revenue for our military products?"
"Certainly not ma'am, but the colonial security forces will only be willing to by so much, and if you consider the laws the Federation Assembly passed in the wake of the Gryps War to limit the military power of the Sides military, you won't be able to sell enough hardware to make up for the loss of EFF contracts for the latest and greatest in mass production mobile suits."
Martha made a show of considering my words, even going so far as to mockingly tap a finger against her lips. "And you are the means by which the Federation will be compelled to enter new contracts with us? I must say you don't look like a ranking Federation general or a member of the defense appropriations committee."
"I'm even better: I'm the man that sends the Federation running back into your arms, wallet wide open and weeping streams of money." A confident smirk appears on my face. "For the right price, of course."
"Of course. And is this the part where you ask for ships, mobile suits, and munitions for both?"
"Far from that Madam Carbine, Neo Zeon is not as resource strapped as an idle look may imply."
But if you were entirely capable of meeting your own war needs, Full Frontal, you would not be here, meeting me and placing yourself in such a vulnerable position." An ominous statement if I ever heard one. And for the damndest reason, my nose started to catch the scent of formaldehyde.
Phantom smells aside, I couldn't let a statement like that go unanswered, so formality was placed to the wayside. "I do not have the habit of making myself vulnerable, Mrs. Carbine, and I haven't started now.
"Oh? Care to share with the class?"
"To put it bluntly, should I fail to present myself at a certain place at a certain time, the occupants of this building will have the prime chance to become intimately familiar with the vacuum of space."
"All of them?"
"Each and every one, Mrs. Carbine. But I foresee that outcome being nearly impossible."
"Indeed. Your offer then."
"While Neo Zeon can construct its own mobile suits, certain parts would provoke more attention upon our shell companies if we moved to procure them. The necessary components for the reactors and psychoframe cockpits." I leaned back into the couch and steepled my hands. "To start with that is. According to records left by Aznable, your Granada division developed a successor model to the Geara Doga, I require those designs."
"You assume that I will want whatever you offer in payment. For despite your airs of fiscal stability, I'm inclined to distrust your words rather than trust."
"As expected of someone with your talents. As payment for the designs, we will offer a one time payment in gold, equivalent to the worth of the designs as determined by negotiators from our two groups. For the materials required for our mobile suits, regular payment for that will be determined by a contract signed by us. Buyes has a first edition if you want to look it over. I think you'll find what we've devised to be most advantageous for both parties if the agreement entailed is held to."
"You've yet to inform me as to how giving you want you ask for will, how did you put it "send the Federation running into my arms?"". She commented, resuming her finger tapping. "Because as whole, this is sounding more and more like something my idiotic nephew would present, and I was just starting form a fond opinion of you, Full Frontal."
A challenge if I've ever heard one. So I obliged.
"Simple really, Neo Zeon will be launching a general offensive in the coming months. Your acquiescnce to this contract allows me to put more bodies into more mobile suits, thereby allowing the offensive to strike a greater number of Federation ships and bases." The thought of finally going back into combat provoked me to give my own shark smile. "And I can assure you, ma'am, they'll never see this coming. After the dust settles, the Federation brass will have bestowed upon them the wisdom that their mobile suits designs are no longer up to snuff. So they come running to you, and you then sell them whatever general upgrade package you have lying around for the Jegan at a considerable price increase. The leverage would probably allow you to renegotiate existing contracts to Anaheim's benefit."
"Oh," I added, putting all my skill into making it seem like I had just had this thought. "Neo Zeon would require full access to any mobile suit upgrades or new designs sold to the Federation, just so we can stay ahead of the curve."
From the uptick of Martha's lips, I don't think I was very convincing.
"Hah, I'll need more than cash if you want me to agree to this little deal." She told me, hiding a mocking titter behind a hand.
"I completely understand, which is why I'm offering a state of the art newtype pschoframe mobile suit design as a gift to your R&D divisions. We know that Anaheim has yet to perfect their understanding of pyschoframe, but in the interest of fostering a healthy business relationship, I'd be more than happy to lend the design to Anaheim, pro bono."
Dangling the Kshatriya and all its fancy technological gizmos was what sold it for Martha Vist Carbine, because her glass of barely sipped something was set aside and a snap reverberated around the lounge. The acoustics were clearly the selling point of this lounge, not the interior design.
As the very well projected snap faded from my ears, the four turrets that had spent our entire conversation aiming directly at Kaises and myself retreated back up into the ceiling with more metallic thunks. Then something truly astounding happened. Four white lights appeared behind the couch Martha Vist Carbine was sitting on and from those lights emerged, reeking of copier ink, musty paper and ascending from the courtroom of hell, four lawyers who looked more like the G-Man than any living person. Sallow complexions and high foreheads was the name of the game among them. I was surprised, my guards were astonished, judging by the stifled shouts and half-steps I heard behind me. Kaises was... not surprised.
Did...did this mean that Anaheim had Jeffries tubes running the length of this building? Or was it just this floor? Did that mean those lawyers were hiding under the floor like a bunch of freaking extras for a play? Had they been there the entire time? Was Martha Vist Carbine incapable of doing anything without making it seem entirely overblown and dramatic? The answer to the last one was something I already knew(the answer was no) but the rest were still valid.
I turned to look at him, doing my absolute best to order him to explain using only my eyes. Luckily for my retinas, Kaises was a discerning fellow.
"This is Anaheim, hmm how to say it, off the books lawyer team. I worked with them to draft Char's contracts in 0090. They're the best in business, not that the wider legal community is even aware they exist." Kaises informed me with an easy grin, seeming to be more in his element now that he was back among his own kind. His kind being sleazy and crooked lawyers.
He, noticeably, didn't explain why they had emerged from the floor like the aliens of the week from a tv show but maybe this was just how lawyers acted in the Universal Century. Actually I wore, almost obsessively, sunglasses indoors and out. Did I have a leg to stand on? Food for later thought.
"Then this is the point where you do what I pay you for Kaises?" I asked, while trying to recall if I was paying him. I probably was.
"Indeed it is sir. Gentlemen, let's not impose on our patrons any longer than necessary." Kaises spoke to the Anaheim goon squad, taking the lead to lead them to the level below ours, once more leaving myself and the most dangerous woman to ever live alone together.
And it appears that she wasn't done with me just yet.
"I have one final question before we conclude our business here." She told me. "In the meeting that preceded this one, you had Buyes mention the Sinanju. Now, how did you learn of that project, Full Frontal?"
A jolt of electricity coursed up by spine. This was important, something deep inside of me yelled, this was something very important. I had the right answer but at the same time I didn't. Shit!
Swiftly I racked my memory, mentally diving head first, hoping beyond hope that I'd remember or figure out what she wanted me to say. What rote, what programmed answer did she want said? But despite my best efforts, nothing I grasped at seemed to stick. This was impossible! I should know this, I felt it deep in my bones. I should know this! So why the hell didn't I!
If there was a word that could accurately describe the feeling of hope being suctioned down the drain to be replaced by a sluice mix of panic and dread, I'd love to know it. Just as I could feel time running out, just as I was about to give it my best attempt at the right answer, an attempt that felt tangibly incorrect. My mental tag along sprang into action. I, once again, got to experience the alien sensation of having my brain flicked. But this time, instead of using it to coerce me into a talk, the Will used the window of distraction to slip into control.
I felt myself fall to the wayside, becoming a witness to my own actions.
"Who doesn't want to keep track of their possessions?" The Will spoke. "One can never know when they'll have a need for them." A blase shrug capped off the statement. Response? Answer? Yes, it was an answer but to what question? Not the surface question Carbine has just asked, the answer to something deeper.
Despite my lack of control, or because of it, I had the briefest moments to see that Martha Vist Carbine was very pleased at that answer, not physically but her fetid soul was pleased by the response Will had given her. For whatever reason, it had been what she was looking for.
"You make a good point, so I'll keep you in the loop as to its development, consider it my own pro bono. Now I believe we are done here." An unshielded smirk was all that she allowed herself before Martha Vist Carbine made a rather unceremonious exit.
The Will then slid back out of control, abruptly depositing me back where I belonged.
"There, now you can never say I've never done you a favor." It sounded incredibly pleased with itself.
"What the hell was that." I demanded, managing to exercise enough self control to not fly into a rage.
"My gift to you. Congratulations Full Frontal, you just became Char Aznable." Lord above it managed to sound even smugger than it usually did. "That little line was what I said to Carbine during our last meeting. She wanted to know if you were actually me, which I just confirmed."
"And WHY would you make her think that I was you!" I was incredibly frustrated, I'd been doing my very best to separate myself from Char, not create new threads that tied me back to him.
"Char Aznable and Anaheim had, though now it's has isn't it, a long and profitable working relationship. Now that that relationship has been tied back to you, you stand to reap the benefits. Also, this way you're not going to rush for another face to face meeting are you?"
He-it- was right.
"So now the odds of her existence ever being forced upon me again have drastically lowered. Besides I get the strange impression that you're no fan of her either. So it's a win-win! You're welcome." That fucker had the gall to send the impression of a cheery hand wave back at me before closing off himself from me. Of course he was right. Martha Vist Carbine had a black a soul as they came, if I never had to be in her presence again for the rest of my life, it'd be a downright blessing.
The fact that the Will could be drawn forth, or gain strength, from being in similar positions as Char had been deserved many hours of careful consideration as to how to best counteract its ability. If I could I would start dissecting the revelation immediately. But the life of the leader of Neo Zeon was nothing if not busy, and this was only the first of many meetings I had to conduct on the Moon.
My military arm was intact and set to undergo tremendous growth if nurtured correctly, now I needed to grow a propaganda arm to match it.
A/N - So February was when this chapter was going to be finished but I don't like February, so this chapter is me starting March out strong. Comments and the like are appreciated as always. I hope you all enjoy.