Impossible
A Gundam Wing Fan Fiction
Rambled Off by The Manwell
Book Three: PARTNERS
Duo Maxwell
The best part about being a master of redirection is that I can – and do – easily apply those fantastic abilities to myself whenever needed.
It goes without saying, I think, that now is one of those needful times.
I very deliberately don't think about what had just been said in that elevator and plop myself down onto the couch and turn on my laptop with a push of a button. I stare at the flickering screen as I wait for the programs to load and slowly twirl the disc Wufei had given me between my fingers.
I'd been in the process of violently yanking my car keys from my pocket in that too empty parking garage when I'd realized that I was currently carrying the perfect means for my own distraction.
I'm not proud of the fact that I'd jumped at the opportunity to wade through some other – any other – situation than the one I'd just had shoved into my face this morning. But I'd nevertheless tuned my thoughts toward that disc and forced myself to start speculating about its contents just so I wouldn't think about... well, you know.
Although I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to find when I open Wufei's present, I know I'd better take all the precautions I normally would when viewing sensitive information on a unsecured line. I methodically go about the task of checking and double-checking that my laptop is completely unhackable and all of my important information has been backed up on a separate hard drive. I can't afford to have this virus Wufei wants me to take a look at getting frisky with my techie wet dreams, now can I?
I guess, for all my denial, Heero was right last night when he'd claimed my protests against enjoying a good technical discussion over microprocessor efficiency were the result of repression.
It's really quite amazing, actually, that Heero's developed this weird ability to see people. Really see them. Hell, I trust his judgment of character almost as much as I trust my own. I might be unpredictable and – let's be honest, shall we? – downright difficult to live with, but my instincts are never wrong.
Which is why Heero's angry declaration had been such a shock. Wait. Is such a shock. I mean, why would he feel...? And about me of all...?
Wait a minute. Hadn't I just decided I wasn't going to think about this?
Yeah. That's what I figured.
I shove the disc into the carrier slot on my laptop and loom over the machine humming on my coffee table as I wait for the file list to pop up. When it does, I don't hesitate to choose the first of only two files: the virus.
The code scrolls across the screen and I find myself taking in the data as easily as most people scan the movie summaries on the backs of rental discs. I take note of the various components, feeling a grin tug at the corner of my mouth at the command that will send a subtle invitation to my personal email address. Of course Heero would write in a secret back door for me. He knows what desk duty does to me, after all.
I shake my head and continue reading. The entire document is fairly complicated and a few details actually raise my eyebrows a bit. Either Heero'd had way too much time on his hands or his sense of humor is way more morbid than I'd been led to believe.
The true intent of the virus is camouflaged by sprinklers that activate and deactivate randomly and bidets in the men's bathrooms squirting anyone who passes by... This last bit I see is dependant upon security motion detectors in the restrooms. The existence of those devices doesn't raise any suspicions. Motion and heat detectors are standard issue in all space building designs.
There's also evidence of microwaves in the private apartments being programmed to beep two hours after the lights go out in the place... and continue beeping until someone opens the appliance's door.
And of course the temperatures on the hot and cold water reservoirs have been reversed.
Christ, Heero must have been positively bored out of his tree on that mission to think up all these innovations and meticulously program them.
And I can't help but chuckle as I go through the list.
Metal ceiling panels in the hallways that seemingly spontaneously magnetize.
I chortle as I imagine paperclips and staples being pulled upward and out of the grasp of a startled scientist making his rounds.
Shoe-shining receptacles that use the wrong color polish and dab smiley faces into the leather.
Driers that operate at 300... broiling the clothes dry... and undoubtedly smaller in the process.
Locking mechanisms in the data storage room that don't respond to the first five tries... even with the correct code...
Wait a minute.
I reread that line with a dark frown.
The data storage room had been where I'd found Heero... where the solar panels are located... where Heero had been trapped and... crispened
I scan further down until I locate the very last malfunction Heero had programmed.
And when I find it my fingertips freeze right where they are, suspended over the keyboard.
It's impossible.
But it makes so much sense.
I back up and reread the virus. I reexamine the malfunctions. I tell myself not to panic. Yet.
I force myself to read Wufei's report, but unfortunately, he's arrived at the same conclusion I have. And having had access to Heero's laptop after it had been collected and sent to HQ, he's got even more evidence to support his conclusion. The conclusion I had suspected last night. The conclusion I hadn't wanted to be right about.
God damn it all to hell.
I take only enough time to activate the sleep mode on my laptop, slam the lid shut, and tuck it under my arm. I barely remember to grab my car keys and cell phone and stuff my feet into a pair of shoes. I'm panicking, I know. But I don't care.
Because if I'm right – and I think I am – Heero's life could be in danger.
Right. Now.