Another Fortunate Accident
Ch. 17 – Reenlistment
Soft melodies of harmony drew the person from beyond the depths of sleep, pulling the senses out of their resting places. The harmony resolved itself into gentle humming, mingling with a reddish maroon tint on the inside of the eyelids. What time is it? Cracking open those eyelids, the flood of bright sunlight forced them closed once more. Becoming aware of a warm touch caressing the chest tickled the rising senses, further bringing the person back to consciousness. The distinct scent of something familiar rose thoughts of the previous night from the corners of the memory, drawing one question to the mind of the person lying in bed… Is she really still here?
All of Leon's other senses showed him the answer, but his eyes still had to check… just to be sure. He turned his head towards the melody and carefully, this time, opened his eyes to a heavenly angel resting beside him. Glowing eyes gazed back into his own, the shine of afterglow still illuminating the visible parts of her bare skin lying next to him in bed. Despite the tangled, scruffy hair, the dark circles under the eyes, and the underlying exhaustion still visible throughout the whole of her body, Leon swore he had never seen a more beautiful sight in all of his life. He let himself fall completely under her spell, woven from the musical cords flowing from her soul, punctuated by her shapely form barely hidden by the thin sheet barely covering her body.
An urge to reach out to the woman across from him spurned Leon to roll over onto his side. His hand flowed with slow, deliberate motion, crossing the small space between the two of them, coming to rest with fingers intertwined with the hair just above her contented smile.
Priss lifted her fingers from Leon's chest and took that hand into her own. She brought it to her lips and softly kissed the palm before resting their joined parts on the bed between them. She continued to reverberate the liquid notes through her recovering vocal chords, the improved condition of them not dawning on her mind. All conscious thought was pushed to the background by the warmth flowing through her heart and soul, locked in the rhythm they had reached together the previous night… that rhythm broadcasting itself back to the man lying across from her. Then Leon spoke.
"I don't think I've heard this one before."
The humming stopped, as the rhythm was broken within Priss' soul. The smile faded from her lips as she pondered for a second on which tract to follow… It's so much easier to be bitchy with him The singer rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling of the foreign space. "It's one I wrote a long time ago," she answered carefully.
"What's it called?" Leon asked innocently.
"Changing Seasons," Priss replied, eyes still fixed on the white ceiling.
"Have you played it with the band before?" he continued, curiosity growing.
She paused for a moment before answering distantly with a single word. "No."
"Why not?"
Her lips lowered into a frown as his incessant questions began to grate on the nerves slightly. She knew it wasn't his fault, but it didn't make the situation any easier to deal with. This is what happens when you dive in with both feet… she chided herself internally. "What did I tell you before?"
"You wrote it a long time ago?"
"Last night you idiot," Priss growled at him.
"I don't remember much talking last night," he added with a heavy smirk.
That earned Leon a sharp jab in the ribs courtesy of a right elbow.
"Oww! You didn't have to hit so hard," he complained lightly, at first thinking it was just a playful jab… until Priss rolled out of bed. "Wh… Where are you going?" Leon asked, genuinely concerned.
Priss answered by gathering up her clothes from the floor and walking out of the bedroom without so much as a look in his direction.
"Shit," the now alone man grumbled to himself. "Sometimes I… damn," Leon swore again, suddenly realizing what Priss had been getting at.
"You talk too much." The last words she had spoken to finally silence him just a few hours previous, before devouring him with passionate kisses.
A brief idea of trying to catch the woman before she left crossed Leon's mind before the sound of the shower starting halted that train of thought. A second, more sensual idea came to mind… before Priss popped her head in the door with a deep scowl across her face.
"Got any clean towels around here?" she demanded, her tone ending any other pursuits in the back of the man's mind.
"Linen closet's just around the corner to the left. Don't mind the mess in there," he answered from the thin ice he now knew he was standing on.
The singer once again left without a word, light footsteps barely audible on the carpeted surface.
"Guess it's all downhill from here," the ADP officer mumbled to himself. As he listened to the sound of the running shower, Leon thought back the pinnacle of last night, and to the flood of events that had led to it. Watching Priss on stage, hearing the song anonymously dedicated to Linna, Priss passing out, falling into his arms… The bouncers were going to take Priss from him at that point, until Leon had flashed his badge. Thing really comes in handy sometimes
Taking Priss back to her dressing room, he, with various staff and the band, stayed with her until she came around a few minutes later. It only took another minute before the fiercely independent woman had kicked everyone out of the room… Leon included. He wouldn't leave the outside of her door though, still worried about how she would make it back to her trailer in the shape she was in. Leon stood, back against the wall for what seemed like eternity, waiting for Priss to come out. One of the band came up to him first. Maxon, Leon thought he remembered, asked him if he was going to leave.
"No, not until I know she's going to make it back to her place OK."
"What are you driving?"
It seemed like an odd question, but Leon had answered it anyway. "Just a bike," replying simply as he was more concerned with Priss' condition than starting a technical discussion.
"A bike. Well, sounds like things are covered then," he remarked with a smirk Leon hadn't understood at the time as the guitarist walked out.
A few minutes later, Priss emerged from the dressing room with a fresher look on her face… until she saw Leon standing there.
A few unreadable emotions had crossed her pale features, until she spoke simply. "Why don't you just go home?"
"Not until I know you're going to be alright. I couldn't follow you across the bridge last night, but I've got no excuse now."
Something that almost looked like a smile flashed through her lips, before the frown returned. "I'll be fine. I'm getting a ride with someone else anyway."
"Oh," he had replied unable to hide the disappointment. "I guess your bike wasn't as lucky as you were then."
"No, not really," Priss had remarked simply, effectively ending the discussion by the low tone in her voice. She closed the door to her dressing room and turned to leave.
"I guess I'll see you around then," Leon threw out, not really wanting to have it end there, but not sure what else to say at that moment. As he watched Priss walk down the short hallway to the back exit, a burst of inspiration came to him. "Wait!"
The singer stopped and turned her head around at his call.
Leon closed the gap between them as he spoke. "I wanted to ask… why did you leave me that coffee this morning?"
Priss turned her body around partially, but only enough to face the wall, not looking him directly in the eye. "Just my way of saying thanks." She began to leave again, until Leon's voice stopped her once more.
"Thanks for what exactly?" he asked not in a leading tone, but a sincere questioning one.
She turned only her head back towards him once, didn't speak, then shifted it forward again. With obvious indecision, Priss sharply turned her head back towards the encouraged ADP officer once more… before finally facing the exit and suddenly walking out without ever answering his question.
The sound of the heavy metal door slamming shut punctuated the shock Leon felt in his heart at that moment. He knew he was close, still had so many questions he had wanted to ask. He stood in the empty hallway for a couple of minutes mentally berating his indecision before a banging at the door drew his attention. He opened the exit only door to a very pissed off Priss, as evidenced by the swearing that followed her back to the dressing room.
Leon stayed close behind her as she ranted. "Goddamn son of a bitch left me… I told him I needed a ride…"
"Who?" he asked innocently, although he was beginning to think he knew the answer.
"Maxon, that dead ass guitarist… I'm gonna shove that…"
"I think he thought I was giving you a ride," Leon realized with a smirk he now understood, cutting off the rant.
"What!"
"He saw me outside your dressing room before you came out. I told him I was going to make sure you made it back to your trailer… He must have just assumed…"
"I'm gonna assume that bastard…" Priss started before Leon cut her off again.
"So why don't you ride with me then? It's not that far out of the way for me anyway."
That stopped the raging Priss dead in her tracks, as she just stared at Leon with disbelief.
"I owe you for the coffee this morning anyway," he threw out, hoping to shift the balance in his favor.
A couple more unreadable expressions crossed the singer's face before answering with a defeated sigh, shoulders drooped low. "Why not."
A huge grin plastered across Leon's own face at the victory. "Alright then. My bike is just around the corner in the back."
"Just a minute." Priss reached into a drawer and pulled out her wallet, the real reason she had come back to the club and not just called a cab, placing it into her jacket.
They exited together this time, walking the short distance to Leon's bike in just a couple of minutes but without saying another word between them. Leon got on first then slid forward to let Priss on the back.
"I don't have a spare helmet with me," he admitted as he guessed as to why she hesitated to get on.
Another unreadable expression crossed Priss' face before she gingerly climbed on, staying as far back as she could on the bike… and away from Leon. She held on as loosely as possible as he started the bike up and drove off.
They rode a few kilometers with only the accelerating and decelerating of the small engine speaking for them. As he drove, Leon could feel the indecision in Priss' arms around him. The first few turns were a bit perilous, as they were completely out of synch with coordinating the road together. But with every turn of a corner, with every lean they made together, she began to pull closer to him… making the ride easier as they progressed through the empty streets of the overnight. Leon's own heart was pounding from her proximity, and he wondered if she could feel it beating within him. Without a helmet on, her ear rested directly on his back… along with the rest of her body a short time later. By the time he turned the last corner to her trailer, they accomplished the move in one fluid motion. They weren't riding as two individuals anymore, they had become one… or at least that's how Leon felt anyhow.
As Leon turned off the engine, Priss relaxed her grip and climbed off. "Thanks," she said genuinely. One hand lingered on his shoulder for balance as she briefly stretched.
Leon took his helmet off and dismounted to stand beside Priss, taking the hand that she had left on his shoulder quickly into his own. He guessed her reflexes were off because she didn't immediately pull away from him. Still so much to ask… where to start… But even as he considered the possible questions, he could see the sleep in her eyes as she stared into his own. But as he gazed into the brown globes, he could see deeper still… past the shell she lived inside, past the heartbreak, deep into her soul. Without considering the consequences, he swiftly bent over and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Your welcome," he added pulling away as he relaxed the grip on her hand.
Leon expected a slap, kick, or maybe just a verbal assault. What he received instead couldn't have shocked him any more. Grabbing onto his releasing hand, Priss had pulled him into a second, more passionate kiss that lingered until Leon's breath gave out. After a moment to recover, their lips met again, mutually this time.
Everything that happened past that point was but a blur in Leon's mind. Some comment or question had led them back to Leon's apartment. Once there, he had babbled incoherently for a couple of minutes before Priss silenced him with her forceful words and, better still in his own biased opinion, her strong actions.
Leon reveled in the shared intimacy for a few minutes before questions began springing into his mind… What next? How does she really feel about me? We barely talked… And that thought scared him more than any other. They hadn't talked much, and not about anything Leon still had questions about. The biggest question in his mind was about the Knight Sabers, and Priss' connection with them.
As Leon thought about how to potentially broach the subject, another pained thought crossed his mind… How will she react if I do ask her about them? More to the point, he was worried that the closeness that they now shared would be broken forever if she even had the inkling that he knew before last night. He could hear the bitter aftermath in his head already… "Just wanted to score on one of the Knight Sabers huh? Take this you Goddamn ADP pig!" At first, he imagined a painful kick to the shin before recalling that thought for a more likely attack. The vivid scenes playing out in his mind forced the shuddering Leon to reflexively cover up his manhood despite the fact the Priss wasn't even in the room with him.
Focusing on the changing tones of the shower flowing through the hallway to brought Leon back to the present reality… and the mood swing Priss had currently fallen through because of his big mouth. Got to be some way I can make it up to her. Well, it is breakfast time…
With that flash of inspiration, the big man crawled out of bed, threw on some sweat pants and a T-shirt, and headed for the kitchen. Sure hope I can find something in here she'll like… he hoped, realizing once more just how much he still had to learn about the enigma named Priss.
The soft notes continued to flow from beyond the glass door just above the natural harmony set by the unnatural waterfall. Even as she continued to hum, the woman lingered under the warm liquid spraying over her weary body, her mind spinning at the thoughts of the last twelve hours, or more importantly, the lack of them. It wasn't that she couldn't remember what happened; it was simply that she let her heart lead the way… for better or for worse.
Not that the intimacy she shared with Leon was bad… she found her cheeks flushed at the detailed recollection of just how passionate she had become last night. It was as if something within her had finally been released, feeding off of the pent up energy remaining in her body. Where did all that energy come from anyway? she thought from the crystal clear recollections. Priss didn't understand how she had lasted after leaving everything she had on stage… literally.
Maybe that was the answer to her questions though. She had left everything on stage, but in the end left her heart out to Leon. He had taken it into his own… but she wondered now as her mind engaged if their budding relationship would last, or for that matter, even if she really wanted it to. Was just one night all she really wanted from him, or was it more.
The words to the song from the past scrolled in her mind, mirroring the concerns she had.
The constant change of seasons
have brought us together
But as the leave blow by
I have to wonder
Will the next winter
See our love simply die…
The monumental door closed behind the sharply dressed executive, pale smile slithering across his sharp features. His morning meeting had gone quite well. All the right pieces are nearly in place, and the old fool doesn't even realize it after all He strolled confidently into his office, not even considering the threats to his position that Quincy had attempted to rain down onto his chaotic parade.
By taking an old nearly-forgotten project, Lazarus, and infusing it with some fresh blood overnight to give it the appearance of long winded development, Mason knew he had thrown the old man for a loop. Instead of cutting off the real thrust of his objective, Quincy had taken the bait on Lazarus and thus left Mason's real target wide open… and she still has no idea what's coming he cruelly smiled inwardly.
His plan was still risky, but after the revelations at the establishment he had personally scouted the previous evening, he wasn't concerned with the outcome any more. It was just too perfect… "Love is such a beautiful instrument," he announced to the cold air surrounding him as Mason sat at his desk, mentally gathering the rest of the necessary tools to assemble his personal machine of destruction.
Nene walked up to the door for the third time, pausing to reconsider if she really wanted to go through with it. Something in the back of her mind nagged the ADP dispatcher, warning her of the consequences. However, there was one thing holding the young woman fast to the door… the stabbing ache in her heart from the young boy she had fallen in love with...
After bringing Sylia back to the pit and making sure Henderson and Nigel were attending to her, she had asked Mackey about that "Her", the one Sylia had ranted about before collapsing in the underground complex of tunnels again. The teenager had only been told they were searching for a phenomenon, an 'it' by her understanding, not a 'her'… not some person as Nene now feared. She had thought Sylia's delusional condition might be to blame… until Mackey had answered her.
"I wish I could tell you… but you'll have to ask Sylia," he had evaded.
"Why? Why can't you tell me?" she had tried to argue with him.
He looked away in silence, eyes darting back and forth to the side in obvious disagreement with his own thoughts.
"Mackey, what's down there? What are we looking for that has Sylia practically killing herself to find? Why did she call that… that… whatever it is "her"?"
"I… I can't…"
She had tried a softer approach then, taking one of his hands into her own… only to have him pull away from her touch, turning his back on her. That had hurt the young woman more than anything he could have said. She stared into his back, trying to see what Mackey was hiding from her. A troubling thought suddenly came to the forefront of her mind, causing her to blurt out the question before she even considered the consequences… "Does this have anything to do with your past?" She instantly regretted the words spilling from her mouth, the promise, the trust built between the two of them, broken in her mind.
Mackey had simply bowed his head and walked away, leaving the bewildered Nene in his wake. Her jumbled thoughts depressed by both his lack of response to the question and the fact he didn't even seem to care enough to accuse her of breaking the promise. The confession of love she had made to him just a short time before seemed like it had been made an eternity ago at that point. She took her own heartache back to her apartment then, restlessly lying in bed for hours, trying to decide just where their relationship stood. As she lay in her bed, she tried to adjust her body to the nightshift schedule she would work next as well as recover from the searches of the last week.
Giving up after only about an hour of sleep, she headed back to the Lady 633 building… and back to Sylia hoping she could answer the questions Mackey was unwilling to. Unfortunately, Sylia was still recovering when she first checked on her just before midnight. So, Nene had decided to continue the search for 'it'/'her'… besides, she figured that if she was finally successful, Mackey wouldn't have any reason to hide his secrets from her any longer.
After four fruitless search runs, the Red Saber had come back in the middle of the night to check on Sylia once again, only to find Henderson tending to her. He let Nene know that Sylia still hadn't come to yet, but that he would let her know when she did. With that, the Red Saber headed back underground for a few more dead-end searches. Heading above ground with empty batteries and an empty stomach, she found sunrise awaiting her this time up. Upon returning to the pit, she had changed and headed upstairs to find Henderson in the kitchen preparing breakfast. After wolfing down a couple of helpings of his cooking, the butler informed Nene that he had already served Sylia as she had finally come around an hour previous. Thus Nene had walked up to Sylia's door, debating on her resolve to find the answers to her questions about whatever it was they were searching for.
Despite the blond girl's hesitation, her curiosity won out as she cracked the door open, peering in to see if Sylia was still awake.
"Nene? Nene, come in," the surprisingly alert woman said instantly noticing her presence at the door.
The teenager slid through the door silently, gingerly pushing it closed behind her as she debated how to ask her questions. She walked slowly towards the bed, not looking up at Sylia as she continued to straighten her thoughts.
Sitting up in the bed, the older woman wore her usual light blue robe, blanket drawn up to her waist. "What's bothering you Nene? It's not like you to stare at the floor like that unless you've got something on your mind."
Nene finally reached the end of the bed at Sylia's feet, moving to one side and sitting down on the soft mattress. "I've just been thinking about what happened to you, that's all," the young woman answered avoiding her true motives for the moment. "How are you feeling now?" she asked.
"I've been better. Feels kind of like a boomer jumped up and down on my head honestly," she added with a slight smile.
A small grin crossed Nene's face before a deep frown replaced it, much to Sylia's chagrin.
"Now what's wrong?" the light haired woman prodded.
She hesitated before answering softly. "It's just… It reminded me of something Linna said at the hospital… the last time I saw her…" she trailed off.
"I know it's been hard on you… it's been hard on me as well having to carry on without either Linna or Priss…"
Nene perked her head up with another look of concern written across her face. "Do you know what Priss did the other day?"
"I haven't heard anything lately," Sylia admitted with a worried tone.
"She went berserk the other night… I was on duty when I heard about an NP chase, only to find out they were after Priss."
"A Chase? What happened? Is she all right? Did they catch her?" the Blue Saber's former leader rapidly spat out.
"She's lucky to be alive… they didn't catch her and thanks to me they won't be looking for her anymore."
Sylia understood Nene's boast with a small grin. "So how'd she get away?"
"Just by jumping across a half-kilometer uncompleted bridge," the teenager deadpanned.
"You're joking…" Sylia said in disbelief, before reconsidering who they were talking about. "What would have made her do that though… she hasn't acted like this since she joined…" The recovering woman stopped her train of thought as she considered the possibilities, turning a budding plan over in her mind even as she lamented Priss' current mental state.
"I think Leon tried to see her the next day, but since we've been between shifts I haven't got a chance to talk to him."
"Why didn't you tell me as soon as it happened," Sylia accused, ignoring Nene's comment and shifting the conversation again.
The blond girl winced at the harsh tone before springing off of the bed and digging in with both feet. "Because you've been so preoccupied finding whatever the hell it is we're supposed to be looking for, I didn't even get a chance to bring it up," she shot back bitterly.
"You could have…" Sylia started before the fiery young woman cut her off with her continued tirade.
"That reminds me, just what the hell are we looking for anyway? You called it a phenomenon before, but yesterday you called it a 'her'." The face of surprise that stared back into Nene's own slowly began to bleed off her anger.
"I… I don't remember saying that… I… must have been delirious for some reason…" the bedridden woman attempted to explain, genuinely unable to recall using the term in front of the other Knight Saber.
Nene's anger instantly boiled over again. "You may have been 'delirious', but you sure knew what the hell you were looking for… even Mackey knows it's true, although he won't tell me what it is either... he told me to ask you," she punctuated by staring directly into Sylia's wide-open eyes.
Sylia instantly understood the young girl's rage at the mention of Mackey's honest betrayal. "So this is about Mackey then…"
"Not as much as it's about you Sylia. You practically killed yourself yesterday. Why? What's so important down there?"
The light haired woman's eyes broke contact with Nene's as she collected her thoughts for a moment, pondering how to navigate through the murky waters before her.
The young teenager's patient ran thin as she watched Sylia's eyes dart back and forth, but not at her. "Well, who is she?"
"Nene… I… I don't know how to explain…"
"Explain what? Just tell me who we're looking for."
"I can't do that."
"Just like your brother," the embittered woman grinded out accusingly. "Fine, I'll be back after work in the morning. If you want my help looking for 'her' anymore, I suggest you change your answer." With that, Nene turned and marched out of the bedroom, leaving a bewildered Sylia reeling from her forward approach.
"You're definitely not the same girl I recruited a year ago," she told the closed door that the young woman had just stormed out of.
"That's the one thing I started to miss in Tokyo," Linna huffed out while shoveling with the trowel.
"What's that?" Misa asked, arranging the fertilized dirt around the transplanted flower in the ground below her hunched over body.
"Greenery. Everything in Tokyo is so… so artificial. I never thought I would miss the country, but sometimes I just missed the color green.
"Is that why you wore a green hardsuit?"
That drew a chuckle out of the young woman working carefully on her hands and knees. "No, I think that was Sylia's idea to tag me as the green member of the group."
The sound of the phone ringing drew both women's heads up from their tasks. Mother looked daughter in the eye as the phone rang again. "I'll get it, "Linna volunteered first, quickly springing to her feet… but with a muffled groan as one hand reflexively covered her midsection.
"Are you OK?" Misa asked rhetorically.
"Fine," the other woman gritted out as she turned and hurried into the house.
I knew I should've gotten up first Linna's mother chided herself. She's never going to heal at this rate
Inside the house, Linna shuffled into the kitchen with a slight limp. Hitting the receive button on the vidphone, she was greeted with an audio only note on the screen. "Hello?"
"Hi," answered a familiar masculine voice. "Is this Linna?"
The voice sent nervous shivers through her body at recognition of the person on the connection's other end... as well as another fresh stab of pain in her abdomen. "Yes. Hi Masaki."
"Hello Linna. I hope you're feeling better now?"
"A little," she answered honestly. "How about you? I hope my dad didn't do any permanent damage," Linna commented half-jokingly.
The voice on the other end replied without a hint of sarcasm. "Nothing physically anyway. Look, I wanted to talk to you about the other day."
Linna had to consciously swallow her fear at the topic. "OK."
"But not on the phone," he corrected. "Would you mind going out tonight to talk?"
The young woman thought for a second before moving forward. "I think that would be best. Where do you want to meet?"
"I know a family run Korean place not too far from your house. It's out of the way so I don't think too many people will be there to bother us," he suggested.
"OK. Does six sound good for you?" she asked.
"Yes. I'll pick you up then?"
"OK," Linna agreed.
"See you at six then."
They both exchanged goodbyes as Linna hung up the phone, mentally preparing for whatever might happen later in the evening… pleasant or otherwise.
"What do you want," Sylia seethed through clenched teeth at the voice on her own audio only connection.
"Why Sylia, no 'How are you doing?' or 'I've missed talking to you lately'?' the antagonistic voice on the other end baited.
"How about 'I'm sorry to see your funeral delayed much longer than it should be.' Is that better Mason?"
"Ha! Still have that little spunk I remember so well my child."
"Don't ever call me that again!"
"Hmm, we are quite touchy today. I suppose if my own operations were going as poorly as yours are right now, I'd be upset too."
"Just what are you talking about?"
"Well, I've found that an outside venture of yours isn't performing up to capacity as it was, say two weeks ago."
Sylia took little consolation that the video link wasn't active. "Just which venture are you discussing? I have several currently underway."
"I've been interested in this particular operation for about a year now. However, its rather underground nature has been especially bothersome for certain individuals in my company for the past week or so."
"So why don't you just eliminate this operation if it's so bothersome?" Sylia pried, fighting to maintain her composure.
"I think you're use of the word 'you' may be a little broad, Sylia. These certain individuals aren't necessarily privy to the information I have, and for good reason. Besides, why would I want to eliminate something that's helping my personal agenda?"
That statement triggered several alarms within the woman's mind. "So what would your personal agenda be?"
"The same as yours in this case. Your success is my success in this venture."
"And you expect me to believe that?"
"Since I am technically a competitor, what other benefit do I gain by your success?"
That was the question Sylia couldn't answer herself right now. "So since you know about my current logistical limitations, why call me now?"
"Ahh, right to the point. Well, I have an idea that might help that little problem of yours."
"What idea would that be?"
"I think an associate of yours has recently changed her career goals if I'm not mistaken, perhaps because of an incident with a fellow co-worker… a mutual acquaintance of ours actually."
That statement left little doubt as to the depth of his knowledge. "A Genom subsidiary, if I remember correctly," she volunteered in a calculated manner to test his knowledge for certain.
"Hugh Geit to be precise," Mason clarified. "In any event, I'm willing to intervene on your behalf to see if we can't have this associate reconsider their career choices."
"What kind of intervention do you have in mind?" Sylia queried, barely able to hide the real fear of turning control of any part of her operation over to this despised man.
"I can't discuss the details of that at the moment. I'm certain you can appreciate the need for delicacy in this matter."
She didn't like it, but Sylia was becoming desperate… especially given Nene's recent turn in attitude. "Yes, of course. So do you require any assistance of mine then?"
"Actually that is the point of this discussion. I wanted to be sure that my efforts weren't in vain in this case. Do you still have the associate's equipment; computer, files, necessary office space; reserved for this person's use in the event I am successful in changing their mind?"
Even though she hated the man with every bone in her body, she still appreciated his snakelike efforts at secrecy. "Everything is still as it was when this person left the organization," she replied cryptically.
"Good. I trust that you'll know how to apply the correct resources when the opportunity arises then. I'm sure we'll be talking again in the near future."
"Perhaps."
"Goodbye Sylia. And I do hope you feel better soon," he threw out non-chalantly as he disconnected the audio link.
The weary woman sunk back into her pillow and sighed heavily. She thought about her own ideas for trying to change Priss' mind given the revelations from Nene earlier in the day. Thinking of Nene caused the woman to sigh heavily again. "I don't know what's worse… being helpless like this right now… or knowing that Mason is my best chance to finally end this nightmare once and for all, after all he did to start it in the first place."
With a Herculean effort, Sylia rolled out of bed and prepared herself to go down to the pit. She had some major preparations to take if she was going to be ready for whatever Mason was planning. And if she still knew the Genom executive, whatever it was wouldn't be on the small side…
As her stomach finally began to settle down, Nene dragged herself upright from the white porcelain object she had barely reached in time. She sat on the floor, waiting for the bathroom to stop spinning, holding her thoughts in check… for the moment. When her eyes finally focused on the far wall, the young woman staggered to her feet and over to the sink. After washing up, she grabbed a towel and carefully made her way back to the computer… and back to the impossible revelations she couldn't believe she had discovered.
"I… I can't believe… Genom, or anyone, would do that!" the blond hacker stammered to herself. Sitting back down in her chair, she wiped the sweat from her forehead as she reviewed the words that had thrown all her beliefs to the wind. All the ideals Nene had of what she was doing and why were shaken apart, crumbling under the enormous weight of the true facts of the past… the earthquake, Genom, an artificial life form, a lab accident, Sylia's father's involvement… Going back over the facts nearly caused her stomach to flip again, but her own curiosity helped to settle her down. She knew so much now but one thing still bothered her…
Nene could understand given the magnitude of the situation why Sylia would want to hide the truth. Honestly if Nene had heard this from her just a few weeks ago, she figured she would have quit on the spot. Now though, she wasn't as concerned for herself as much as she was for Sylia's brother. Why would Mackey hide this truth from me? Is it just to protect Sylia? Doing the math, she found he was only an infant at the time of the lab incident. Nene decided Mackey's own resistance couldn't be from personal experience then, it must be from Sylia's pressuring influence… that influence she could understand very well.
Still the hacker had several questions that begged for answers, mostly about Sylia's own past and her involvement with her father's experiments. With a few expert commands and some swift motions of her hands, she was within reach of some of the information Nene wanted. She hesitated though. This particular file contained Sylia's family history according to the links she had found, but she recognized the file name from another search she had performed not too long ago. If she walked through this virtual door now, she would probably have many of the answers she wanted… But at what price? her heart asked.
Just over two weeks ago on the very accursed night of Linna's accident, she had been on the verge of opening this file. At the time, she wasn't as interested in Sylia's past as she was in another member of the Stingray family… Mackey. All Nene had to do was give the command and she would have access to those files, and possibly his secrets… whatever they may be. Even though her rational side said she was just looking for Sylia's background info, her heart knew what she was really about to do.
The teenager glanced at the time in the monitor, realizing with a depressed sigh that she had been blankly staring at the screen for over fifteen minutes now. Nene leaned back far into her chair, studying the subtle differences in the painted ceiling as her mind wrestled with her heart over what to do. I love him, I can't break the promise… but I already did, I already asked him about his past… but he didn't answer me yet… doesn't that mean the promise is still intact… does he even still love me… isn't finding out what destroyed Tokyo more important though The rational part of her brain came up with a million valid reasons why she shouldn't just go ahead and open the file… but her heart didn't care.
Finally with clenched teeth, she tried to will the words from her mouth, only to find her vocal cords wouldn't cooperate anymore. It was as if the two parts of her being were fighting for control over her body. Her hand shot out to the keyboard and typed in a few manual commands… before it stopped, just on the verge of opening the file. Both hands twitched in indecision as tears welled up in Nene's eyes. With a scream from pent up frustration, the young woman collapsed out of the chair and onto the floor next to the wires running out of the evil box of temptation. One violent jerk later, the unplugged power cord for the box lay lifelessly in her hand, the fans, circuitry, and lights from its core now dead and silent, leaving Nene's heart to breathe out it's quiet victory.
She curled up on the floor as she bore the full weight of what she was doing… and what she had to do next. If someone was able to unleash the destruction that had taken an earthquake to stop before… she couldn't fathom the dark possibilities. With Sylia unable to don a hardsuit at the moment, that left herself as the only remaining obstacle to whoever they were racing against. Her urge to run for the bathroom pushed up from the surface once again as her stomach began churning in earnest. She needed to talk to someone, anyone to help relieve the stress. She couldn't turn to Sylia for comfort… confronting her would only lead to a bigger fight at this point she reasoned. Mackey was simply out of the question, because if he knew how much she had already found out… she might as well have opened the file and found the rest of his secrets out.
One possibility popped into the teenagers head though, one person who would understand. She knew that this person would listen too, no matter what. Perhaps, if she was really lucky, this person could even lend a hand. With a lifting heart, Nene thought that if she told Linna what she had found out, the country girl she knew before would probably drag herself back to Tokyo on one leg just to help her out… The real question in Nene's mind was if the woman she knew before was still alive, or if that person had virtually died as a result of the accident.
Lifting up the power cord in her hand, the hacker began to reason with it. "Well, there's only one way to find out if she'll help, now isn't there?"
The desolate country road illuminated only by the lights of the car and the stars overhead appeared as empty as the conversation that hadn't just taken place at the restaurant. Neither Linna or Masaki had the freedom to discuss what was really on their minds since a local high school soccer team had invaded the establishment shortly after their arrival. However, even after leaving the Korean food behind, the hesitation that had been involuntarily introduced still lingered in the air between them as Masaki drove back towards Linna's house.
The driver was the first to attempt to break the ice. "That was rather strange. I would have thought a soccer team would prefer something a little less formal."
"Yeah, I guess so," was all Linna could manage, effectively hardening the frozen tundra between them. It wasn't that Linna was expecting a miracle with Masaki, or that she even expected them to be able to start where they had just a few days ago. But, he was so distant right now, especially at the restaurant where he hadn't said more than a few words to her the entire time. Equally as troublesome was the fact that the young man didn't make direct eye contact with her once while they were sitting together.
Silence returned to the inside of the car as the blond haired man continued to drive, trying to find an easy way to express what he needed to say. With a heavy sigh, he finally gave up the high road and decided to just get it out… before he ran out of highway in front of him. "I wanted to talk to you about something my father said to me after our date the other day."
Linna found herself gripping the side of the door as he continued.
"I know that I said your 'condition' didn't matter to me, and that I wouldn't judge you based on if you could bear your own children or not." He paused for a second to finish gathering himself for what he knew would hurt the woman more than nearly anything else… but he had to be honest with her. It was just the way he was. "However, my father has a differing opinion on the subject." Masaki was about to continue when the sound of cracking plastic cut off his train of thought. He glanced out of the corner of his left eye to notice the broken door handle held in the Linna's shaking hand. "Um… Linna?"
"So what does your father's opinion matter anyway," the now fired up woman challenged.
"Look, I wanted to tell you in person… I didn't want to just send you a letter or talk to you over the phone. Even though I don't like to admit it, his opinion carries a great amount of weight with me."
"So is that the real reason why you left Tokyo? Daddy snapped his fingers and you came running back?" she slapped out the accusations dripping with sarcasm.
"It's not like that at all! Can't you see that we couldn't be happy as long as my parents were chastising our relationship?"
Linna stewed in the seat for a moment in silence, digesting the garbage she felt was spewing out of the man's mouth next to her. "You're just using your parents for an excuse," she bitterly decided.
"I am not! Linna, I do…"
"Liar. That's all you are, just a lying bastard," she punctuated by half-heartedly tossing the handle in his direction, luckily missing badly.
Shaking off the errant missile, the blond man tried to counter. "Linna I meant…"
"You meant nothing! All you did was lie to me, to my mother, maybe even to yourself. If the fact that I can't bear children really didn't bother you, then you wouldn't care what your father thought of it."
"It's not that simple. I do care for you deeply, but…"
"But what! Nothing else should matter but how you feel!"
"Except that you never told me how you felt about Priss."
The sudden change in subject threw the young woman for a complete loop. "So that's what this is really about," she whispered to herself… but not quite soft enough to go unheard.
"Not really, but it does affect us now doesn't it?"
"I… I never expected her to show up… not after… I…" The flood of emotions that had overtaken Linna at the fountain began to flow back into her at that moment, clouding her mind and derailing any coherent thoughts she had.
Masaki continued in her now silent place. "And if things had gone further… if we were engaged… or what if we were at the altar… if Priss had walked through the door then, would you have dumped me like you did before? Can you honestly say it wouldn't have mattered?"
The questions pressed the woman's resolve. She hadn't the time to work through her feelings enough to tell how she felt about the past. The possibilities of future events were even less clear in her mind. "I… I don't know," she stumbled under her breath.
"Well, thanks for you honesty anyway," he added with a depressed sigh.
The car pulled up in front of the Yamazaki household as both participants paused for a moment, unsure how to end the discussion.
Another self-doubting thought came to the forefront of the man's mind as he thought of the parting occurring before his eyes. "Just one more question. When we kissed, did you think of me… or did you think of her?"
Linna's eyes flared as she stared into the dashboard, unable to look Masaki in the face to answer him. She knew the truth and couldn't find it within herself to lie even now, even when their future together was already written off.
Her silence was the answer Masaki feared he would receive. "I see. Well, I guess there's not much point in saying this since it's so obvious now, but I think we both need some time to ourselves now."
"Yes," she answered weakly. Linna reached for the handle to open the door, only to remember after scratching her hand on the fractured plastic piece that she had broken it off. She turned and glared at the dashboard with a red face, upset by the loss of control more than anything else.
Even though she hadn't explained the problem, Masaki still realized her predicament. Jumping out of his side of the car, he walked around to the passenger's side and wordlessly opened the door for the embarrassed Linna.
In turn the young woman climbed out of the vehicle and without acknowledging his assistance began walking to her door. Feeling slightly guilty she turned back to the man after he had closed the door. Linna spoke from the lingering anger in her heart instead of apologizing for anything that had just happened. "At least your father will be happy now," she said with a hint of bitter resignation in her voice.
The man took the attack in stride and prodded back with his own. "Well, at least you're free to go chase after Priss now."
"Not much chance of me catching her now even if I wanted to," she admitted.
"Well, if you ever do catch her, just give her a kiss like the one you gave me at the fountain. I know she'll never leave you again afterwards," Masaki added with regret laced inside his voice. With that, the young man stepped inside the car and carefully drove off.
Linna simply stood and watched the taillights dim into the distance, wondering at the possible truth of his words. As painful memories of the incident at the fountain replayed themselves in her mind, her heart gave up on that possibility. "There's no way we could ever be that close again, not that I'll even get a chance anyway," she told the trail of dust following his car. Slowly, she bowed her head and turned back to the house to fill her parents in on the end of yet another failed relationship. However, Linna picked her head up slightly at one happier thought. "Well, at least they'll understand this time…"
The lights dimmed on the stage as the band took the crowd over again. Less than 24 hours from one of the most incredible shows that As Sekiria had ever put on, they were back in the saddle again, ready to ride over the top of the gathered masses one more time.
Most in the crowd who had seen the show the previous night couldn't believe that Priss was up on stage again. Rumors on the street had her on the deathbed or in the hospital for a month at the least. The fact that she was on stage the next day just added to the growing legend of the underground band.
The house lights dimmed as the cords from an old favorite of Priss' started through the speakers. She dwelled on the song selection to open the set with a small smile written across her face. "Second Wind", originally done by Nanase Aikawa, was the perfect song for the occasion she decided. Nanase's albums were easy to come by on the streets that she had grown up on, and Priss had even patterned some of her vocal talents after the original queen of Japanese hard rock. Thus, this song had leapt out at her as the perfect opening for a brand new start for the band. With their stock on the rise after last nights miraculous performance, and after Priss had gotten two preliminary calls on music deals with big time labels earlier in the afternoon, it looked like things were finally going their way now.
The chords from the guitar blasted out through the crowd as the lead singer's music began to flow through the microphone and throughout Hot Legs. As the chorus thundered out into the street, the masses swelled inside, struggling to see the show. As she belted out the vocals, she made eye contact with different faces in front of her. One particular face held her gaze for more than a moment as the singer dwelled on his warm presence in her heart. He was at least partly responsible for it's own second wind, and that fact wasn't lost on the normally reclusive woman. Even as her mind effortlessly recalled the lines of the song she was performing, part of her drifted off to wander into the past. She tried once again to guess as to why she had been so open to his advances the previous evening. One spur of a thought was that perhaps everything that happened with Linna actually opened herself up to allow Leon into her life. I'll have to thank her in my own special way for that… if I ever see that bitch again she promised herself internally.
Shifting back to the present, Priss focused on the lyrics for a time until a lull in the song let the background noise from the crowd be heard on the stage. At that precise moment, a blood-curtailing scream from the back of the establishment pierced the air, drawing everyone's attention… including the band.
The music stopped as the rest of the crowd turned to see what the commotion was about, only to find the human masses in the back crushing themselves to get away from the source of the disturbance. Priss focused on the back of the club to see an inhuman site follow the fleeing masses from the entrance. A woman lifting up one of the bouncers with one arm strode directly into the center of the club… and promptly dropped his lifeless bloody body onto the floor with a sickening thud. Glowing red eyes looked directly into Priss' own horrified ones with a bloodthirsty glare. It's unmistakable mechanical voice bellowed out over the screams and shouts of the other patrons for everyone to hear… "I heard you knocked them dead last night, so I decided to come by and check it out for myself. It's time to party!"
Staring into the insane eyes of a boomer, Priss reneged on her promise in that moment. If at all possible, she would have sold her singing talent, or even her very soul, to the devil himself for just ten seconds in her hardsuit…
To be continued…
