X
CHAPTER X
BENEATH THE ARMOURED CITY
The glorious hue of a crimson sun fell gracefully upon Aerith's pale complexion, bathing her petite figure in warm radiance and sparkling in her jade-coloured eyes as evening fast approached. Her shadow spread long and thin over the tall grass of the moor, dancing playfully as the reeds swayed back and forth in the gentle breeze. She was at peace, cloaked by a serenity she had not known in the dark bowels of Capparwire Forest. The whispering torment of the Planet had subsided, and a sense of normality had resumed for the Geomancer, but the experience was one that would linger in her mind until she could bring solace to its soul.
The party had been on the road from Fort Condor for almost exactly a week by the time they arrived at the prairie hills that bordered the Continent's western coastline. The uplands there enjoyed the last fertile soil before the Mako-drained environs of Junon, the green fields declining into the same desolate terrain as those of every Reactor site. Leaving the strange encounter with the mysterious Ninja behind them, they had followed Cripshay's directions as far as the twin tracks of the old coal railroad, the expedition thereafter proving relatively uneventful as they emerged unscathed from the woodland and continued towards the ocean.
During the heyday of the coal industry, Port Junon was a bustling hub of distribution as it shipped the fuel to dozens of destinations around the Planet. Loaded freight trains came and went between the harbour and the immense refineries several times each day, bearing the riches of the network of mines that tunnelled deep beneath the Midgar Mountains. The coastal town had thrived for decades, evolving into a city unlike any other, and for a time hosted the headquarters of the Shinra Electric Power Company. Thanks to Shinra, Inc.'s prosperity regarding the Mako boom of the [µ]-εγλ 1970s and their investments in the growing metropolis, particularly military, Junon's economy did not suffer as its inland counterparts had in the collapse of commercial coal.
The Corporation had taken additional advantage of the regional transition in energy consumption by offering the services of their private army to the coal businesses so as to defend their transport routes from bandits and the escalating population of monsters. Little did these companies realise, however, that it was the presence of the Mako Reactors that had caused the creatures' mutation and aggression in the first place. Outposts were stationed along the railway to house the infantrymen assigned to the cargo's protection but, with the ultimate closure of the factories, these were abandoned and subsequently garrisoned by mechanised Shinra weapons.
Cloud and the others had stumbled upon one such base approximately ninety miles east of Junon, hoping that it may provide adequate shelter for the night. From afar, it seemed void of activity and neglected to the point of ruin but, as they approached the perimeter fence of the two-storey concrete facility, the weary travellers were fired upon by a custom sweeper which had been waiting idly by the generator shed. Slashing through the barrier and skilfully deflecting the hail of rapid-fire bullets, Cloud was quick to dispatch the clunky roboguard, cleaving its painted shark-like head from the front of its main body to disable the dual machine-guns mounted on its arms. Considering the outpost too risky, they had chosen instead to camp within a dense grove of nearby trees, keeping a distance from the watchful eyes of the railroad.
Thus, their eventual descent into the wastelands that encircled Junon was accompanied by an anticipation of sorts to return to civilisation after so long wandering the wilderness of the Continent. The eagerness of the group was almost tangible as they hastened down the haggard dirt trails, their voices sanguine, sharing old jokes and anecdotes with a chorus of raucous laughter. Cloud alone bore a troubled frown; his thoughts, as always, were besieged by Sephiroth.
We'll find out soon enough if the Turks were right, and he really did come this way…
The city itself was concealed against the sheer and mighty cliffs of Cape Formula, visible only from sea or a few neighbouring shores. It had been originally settled more than a century before by fishermen who had come to appreciate the plentiful bounties that could be found in the natural harbour of Bottomswell Bay. The community was soon after engulfed by the industrial revolution, and its shallow anchorages were swiftly expanded and replaced by the hulking wharves of Port Junon, capable of supplying huge cargo steamships and welcoming a plethora of commodities and people from foreign lands.
By the [µ]-εγλ 1950s, Junon had laid claim to the title of the 'Planet's Capital'. The modern metropolis had developed remarkably over the decades, its broad residential and commercial boulevards layered above one another as they rose up from the harbour to scale the peninsula's vast bluffs. Enormous contemporary tenement blocks of pallid golden sandstone sprawled along these thoroughfares, the eight levels connected by a complex arrangement of internal passageways, and later the world's first monorail system. From almost anywhere in the city, its citizens were guaranteed a spellbinding elevated view of the bay and the glorious sunsets on the oceanic horizon, making Junon one of the most desirable locations on the Planet.
However, after Midgar-based Shinra Manufacturing Works discovered Mako energy in [µ]-εγλ 1959, the industry was transformed. The Company used their wealth to seize political and economic control of Junon, erecting their sky-scraping headquarters at the very pinnacle of the municipality, the only building to surpass the crest of Cape Formula. It was the success of this construct that encouraged billionaire President Shinra in [µ]-εγλ 1976 to lay the foundations of what would eventually become Midgar's Plate and the world's most populous city.
In [µ]-εγλ 1992, a global conflict erupted when the Wutai Empire declared war on Shinra, Inc. for unlawfully attempting to create a Mako Reactor on sacred grounds. The Corporation had by this time relocated most of its offices to Midgar, but direction of its Navy and Air Force remained at Junon. As the geographic setting of Midgar - not to mention its stewardship by the Army and SOLDIER - was considered an impractical target for any Wusheng military offensive, the business turned its attention to the protection of its coastal assets at Bottomswell Bay, particularly its state-of-the-art but vulnerable Underwater Reactor.
While the War raged on, Junon's structural shape was heavily reinforced by great armoured edifices and sloping bastions able to withstand significant bombardment. Both the naval and merchant dockyards were enclosed by tall concrete breakwaters mounted with grandpanzer artillery, and entry restricted to a single gateway. To accommodate the exponential increase in military airships, Shinra built an ultramodern airbase over the archaic settlement that had come to be known as 'Old Junon', casting the village in permanent shadow. The landing strip was suspended approximately five-hundred feet above the bay, held aloft by a framework of fortified scaffolding, and wholly isolated the community from the upper-city.
Even with such a prominent façade, Junon's most distinguishing feature was undoubtedly the colossal Mako Cannon that protruded from its core, extending far beyond the harbour like an ominous sentinel. The behemoth had been designed by Director Scarlet, now Head of the Weapons Development Department, to further defend the municipality from enemy forces, and officially named the Sister Ray. With a barrel more than fifty feet in diameter and powered by the phenomenal energy sucked from the Underwater Reactor, the Cannon had an accurate range of over one-hundred miles, capable of obliterating anything in its path.
The intricate segments of its mechanised and manoeuvrable exterior bore the tell-tale signs of discolouration and corrosion; years of exposure to the salty air and being almost completely disused since the declaration of peace at the end of the last era had impacted on this uncompromising custodian. To gaze upon the extraordinary gun for the first time was an experience in itself, one which Cloud recalled from past assignments, and one which some of his comrades could enjoy as they negotiated their way around the arid grades of Cape Formula.
"Holy shit…" Tifa had gasped as the Mako Cannon came into view over the turquoise shoreline, pausing in her stride to admire the awe-inspiring sight.
"Impressive," acknowledged Red XIII. "Truly impressive."
Old Junon was situated at the foot of the incline in a rocky inlet known as Dolphin Cove, dwarfed by the impregnable concrete foundations of the fortress city above. Monumental support pillars loomed at regular intervals along the towering cliffside, bearing the weight of the airstrip overhead, their bland grey faces adorned by tangles of barbed wire and illuminated signs warning of the lethal voltage levels present in the scaffolding. The gloomy village was not unlike the Slums of Midgar, robbed of natural daylight and swamped by external pollution.
The worn cobbled road into the hamlet was notably deserted, its periphery marked only by a withered picket fence and detached timber house which jutted out over the craggy beach, the lamplight from inside spilling onto the path. An elderly woman loitered in the doorway of the home, her hands behind her back, clothed in a scruffy purple frock and cardigan, her wrinkled eyes scrutinising the five as they passed.
"What happened to this place?" Aerith whimpered disconsolately as they entered the settlement's boundaries, offering a polite nod to the lady. "It's so rundown…"
Several quaint buildings of similar fashion lined the broken pavement as it wound along the shore, the proportions varying only slightly, their appearance unlikely to have altered since the days of its pioneering forefathers. Wisps of white smoke drifted lazily from redbrick chimneys atop the lofty shingled roofs, aromas of evening meals being prepared reaching their nostrils, the hum of private Mako generators the only disturbance. The houses were not, however, arranged on an even plain as much of the overhanging precipices had been too unstable to reshape. Subsequently, some were lodged in the wide recesses, while others had been constructed a short distance uphill, buttressed by an assortment of wooden stilts, often with their own decked terraces.
The group soon came to what seemed to be the town square, a broad dusty forum ornamented by a quartet of decorative cast-iron streetlamps and bordered by the Bottomswell General Store. An outdated public well lay on one side of the court, its antique pump broken and watering hole sealed by a thick slab of sheet metal, now a suitable resting spot for one of the local mongrels. Directly opposite was a tall pole with a makeshift pulley at its height, and from the rope draped the decaying skeleton of a huge fish. A frail old man in a bunnet stood beneath the bones, his arms clasped behind his back as he gazed dreamily upon them. As the wanderers approached, he gingerly turned to greet them.
"Hello there," he called in a tentative voice, pulling his spectacles from the pocket of his brown waistcoat, "can I help you folks?"
"We…uh…we're looking for a man in a black cloak," replied Cloud, glancing apprehensively at the others. "Have you seen anyone dressed like that around here recently?"
"Hmm…" he deliberated for a moment before shaking his head, "sorry, but I haven't seen that fella. We almost never have anyone other than the Shinra people visit this village. Even you being here is rare."
"Really?" asked Barret, an uncertain expression borne on his face as he studied the derelict landscape. "What kinda place was this?"
"We used to be a proud fishing community," the man sighed, motioning over his shoulder at the hanging skeleton. "That there was a blugu. For generations, we hunted them to feed our families and sell to the markets in the city. Everything we ever needed could be found in Dolphin Cove. This used to be a busy marina but, ever since Shinra rebuilt parts of Junon during the War, the sun stopped shining here and there's been no fish in the water. It got so polluted that they either died out or migrated. There's nothing now. We leave those bones there to remind us of our heritage…"
"So sad…" Aerith said sympathetically.
"Yeah, well, I guess you could say we're used to it," he muttered, anger creeping into his weary tone. "For the past few decades, the only thing we've been hearing about is the damn Shinra. I miss the times when we would only talk about angling. I don't think I'll live to see things beautiful again…"
"We need to get to Upper Junon," Cloud explained, seizing the moment as the old sailor trailed off. "Can you help us?"
"That's a tough one, lad," he answered, his focus sweeping from the travellers towards the scaling bastion wall that rose from the northernmost point of the village and disappeared into the labyrinthine underside of the airport. "Only way up's the public elevator."
From his position, Cloud could make out a giant Shinra Diamond above a grand archway, the painted red emblem with its gold writing crusted and peeling. A pair of Security Division privates from Shinra's Department of Public Safety Maintenance patrolled the hulking mechanical doors, marching up and down the wide stone steps that led to the shaft's entrance. They were clad in the usual royal blue soldier uniforms of armoured chest plates and masked helmets, equipped with automatic rifles and accompanied by a lone guard hound.
"You serious?" grunted Barret.
"Couldn't be more serious," the fisherman scoffed, waving an arm dismissively in the direction of the infantrymen. "You need clearance to access it, and the Shinra don't like people snooping around. They got all kinds of fancy ID checks. You folks're outta luck if you thought you could just walk into Junon from down here."
"You mean there's no other way?" Tifa frowned pensively.
"Not unless you take a boat," he shrugged, peering shiftily around him as he spoke. "You'll find a couple still seaworthy at the beach. But, you didn't hear that from me."
"Got it," nodded Cloud. "Thanks for the advice."
"Anytime, son," the man tipped his cap, slowly shuffling past the party and across the square. "Gotta stick it to those bullies any chance you get."
"I like that guy," Barret grinned approvingly, observing him as he vanished from sight before following Cloud down the adjacent lane to the shore.
The beach was set a number of feet below the cliffside, accessible by a crooked staircase beyond the waterfront cabins, and spread from the hamlet out into the cove. A great lattice of pastel rocks and stagnant pools weaved together like organic mesh, their surfaces smeared with colourful traces of oily scum, the otherwise wonderful spectrum reflecting what scarce embers of dusk filtered from the horizon. Turquoise surf lapped beneath the rusting monolithic framework, casting a series of elaborate silhouettes against a magenta skyline whose sporadic clouds blazed a brilliant shade of tangerine as the sun plunged into the ocean.
Just as the elderly sailor had suggested, a handful of neglected rowing boats and even a schooner bobbed quietly in the shallow depths, their hulls also stained by toxins, many of them tied together and anchored to the marina's seabed. A young dark-haired girl about ten years old in a yellow bathing suit played nearby, skipping over the greasy rocks as she sang gaily to herself. Her squeaky voice floated on the breeze like a lullaby, bringing with it a light-heartedness that the company seldom enjoyed.
"Mr. Dolphin?" she chirped, bouncing from one boulder to the next, pausing at a nook between two of the more rotund ones to blow on the tiny seashell whistle around her neck. "Hey, Mr. Dolphin?"
Suddenly, a small distance into the bay, a silvery animal shot from the water, soaring astonishingly close to the elevated barricades of the high-voltage tower. The dolphin's graceful body arced into the shape of a crescent moon to hurdle the raised steel beams of the structure, froth spraying off its dorsal fin as it cruised effortlessly through the air. Aiming its elongated nose once again at the lagoon, it dove like a missile below the peaceful surface, causing a fountain to erupt at the spot, much to the delight of the child.
"Mr. Dolphin!" she giggled as her aquatic friend reappeared near her recess, its round forehead poking from the water. Clapping its flippers together as it oscillated on the waves, the dolphin splashed spiritedly, emitting a sequence of excited clicks. "My name is Priscilla. Pri-scil-la. Now, you say it…"
"Look at that," Tifa exhaled in amazement.
"Ain't it somethin'…?" boomed Barret, his hand on his waist as he admired the animal. "I ain't never seen no dolphin jump like that."
"Hey!" cried the girl, spinning from her position and gawking at the strangers in a mixture of startled panic and revulsion. Priscilla's large hazel eyes passed accusingly over the five, her freckled button nose twitching anxiously. "Who…who are you guys? Where did you come from? Are you Shinra?"
"Stay calm," Aerith replied warmly, bowing a little. "We have nothing to do with the Shinra."
"I don't believe you!" she snapped tenaciously, pointing uncompromisingly towards the village. "Get out of here!"
"Now, just you watch your mouth, young lady," scolded Tifa, affronted by the girl's tantrum.
"Be careful, Mr. Dolphin!" Priscilla yelled, flapping frantically. "The Shinra people're coming for you."
"Great..." muttered Cloud with an unamused sigh. "Does everybody think-?"
The girl's frightened scream cut his sentence short, floundering as she slipped from the boulder and crashed into the lagoon. Through the crag in the rocks, they could see her tiny figure slam against the water, moving sluggishly to regain her bearings. Expecting her to fully resurface, the tension of the moment intensified as they realised her half-submerged body was not under her control, but instead swaying in unison with the gentle waves.
"Priscilla?" called Aerith, exchanging a concerned glance with Tifa when no response came.
"Hold on!" shouted Barret as he began towards the site, hopping over the beach's sunken pools, driven by his paternal nature. "We're coming."
Breaking into a hurried jog, he was quickly overtaken by Red XIII whose large bounds carried him across the cove within seconds. As he sprang onto the boulders, the beast immediately let out a restless growl that betrayed his typically serene composure, launching himself into the water and causing the terrified dolphin to flee. Paddling around in the surf, he gripped the girl's shoulder firmly but tenderly in his fangs, dragging her limp form ashore. As the others arrived, Red XIII set Priscilla carefully down on a smooth rock, a thin line of blood trickling from her temple. Tifa knelt by her side, pressing an ear to her petite chest.
"She's not breathing," she gulped, looking desperately up at her friends, her face drained of colour.
"This is bad," Barret frowned. "You don't think she's dead, do you?"
"Priscilla?" screeched Tifa, massaging the child's heart. "Priscilla?"
"We have to perform CPR," Red XIII said in a matter-of-fact tone, wringing his sodden coat as the flame on his tail began to glow again.
"Of course," Aerith agreed eagerly. "Cloud, you do it…"
"Mouth-to-mouth?" he stammered. "Why me?"
"You were in the military, right?" snapped Tifa, her lips trembling. "So, you must know first aid."
"Yeah, but…" Cloud hesitated, "she's just a girl…"
"C'mon, man!" spat Barret. "Show some godsdamn heart for once."
"You know I can't," added Red XIII.
"What are you waiting for?" Aerith urged, pushing him towards Priscilla. "Hurry up and do it!"
Reluctantly joining Tifa next to the young child, Cloud brushed the matted strands of hair from her cheeks, placing his interlocked palms on her breast. Cautiously, he began to perform hastened chest compressions, making sure his weight did not harm her. After around two dozen, he pinched her nose and tilted her chin back, slowly breathing into her mouth for a few seconds to inflate her lungs. He could feel her chest expand beneath him, then collapse as the air escaped back up her throat. Cloud shook his head as Priscilla remained perfectly still, repeating the respiration procedure. Hope was rapidly sapping from the party as they watched on in silence, the mild sloshing sounds of the bay growing increasingly ominous.
"It's not working…" he panted when there was no movement after the fourth attempt.
"That ain't enough," insisted Barret. "You gotta keep goin'."
"Then, why don't you do it yourself?" Cloud retorted, again leaning over Priscilla. As he returned to compressing her chest, the girl stirred, spluttering painfully as she vomited water to a cacophony of relieved whispers.
"Are you alright?" Tifa asked softly as she put her hand behind Priscilla's neck and helped her into the recovery position.
"Ugh…" she groaned absently, her entire body shivering.
"Priscilla!"
The five turned to see the old fisherman scrambling across the cove, his weak bow-legs carrying him much faster than would have been expected. He clasped his bunnet in one hand, and the buttons of his waistcoat in the other, his motion stunted somewhat as he navigated the rough terrain. Genuine dread was etched on his gaunt features, his eyes wide and trained on the child.
"She's okay," called Aerith as he approached, covering the girl in her red denim jacket for warmth. "She's alive."
"What happened?" the man probed, his voice quivering.
"It was an accident…" answered Tifa timidly, stepping back to allow him access.
"We can worry about the details later," he nodded distractedly, wrapping his arms around Priscilla. "Right now, we have to get my granddaughter back to the village…"
Elena was met by a thin haze of cigarette smoke as she strode into the Turtle's Paradise bar of Junon's Level L-3, grimacing with disgust at the familiar stench. Only a few patrons sat at the round tables of the cramped saloon, nursing cheap bottled beers and tumblers of rum. The pallid walls were illuminated by neon blue lamps, the retro jukebox and selection of kegs creating bizarre shadows across the polished timber floor. A handful of newsletters were pinned to a large billboard on her right, detailing various competitions and forthcoming events at the original flagship store in Wutai, each of them stamped with the image of an aquatic critter.
One of the fashionable newer establishments in the popular worldwide chain, this Turtle's Paradise did not reveal much in the way of its Wusheng heritage. Contrary to the oriental décor that could usually be found in such a franchise, the tavern was distinctly generic, with only some kanji writing on the menus and an abstract painting of an adamantaimai to show otherwise. Elena, a former barmaid in Midgar during her studies at Shinra Academy, disliked this significantly more than her impassive façade would imply.
Her Investigation Division superiors stood opposite the entrance at the pinewood counter of the saloon, their backs turned as they engaged in hushed discussion. Marching towards Tseng and Reno, she straightened her black Turks suit, ignoring the drone of the barely-mobile ceiling fans. As she drew near, she noticed a tall, lean man at the end of the bar, a fleeting hint of recognition grabbing her. His sleek ginger hair and sideburns complimented the flowery summer shirt he wore, his white snakeskin boots gleaming in the radiant overhead lighting. He gazed at her through stylish sunglasses, smiling wryly as he puffed on his cigar; it was a smile that suggested his intentions were far from pure.
"Elena," said Tseng in acknowledgement of her presence, lowering his drink from his handsome face to address her fully. "Do you have anything to report?"
"Yes, sir," she answered. "I've been following up the leads like you asked."
"And?"
"Based on the intelligence gathered," she paused nervously, "it would appear that Sephiroth is still in the city."
"Bullshit," snorted Reno, chuckling to himself. As always, his formal uniform was untidily presented, his ribs visible beneath his unfastened collar. The locks of his spiky red hair had been tied in a short ponytail, a pair of thick-rimmed goggles keeping his bangs from his sharp jaw. Taking a swig of alcohol, he challenged her with piercing blue eyes. "If he was here, we would've found him, yo."
Reno had only just joined the assignment to apprehend the former Captain of SOLDIER on the charge of having murdered President Shinra. A senior Turk, he had been seriously injured while battling AVALANCHE at the Sector7 Pillar, and spent most of the previous month recovering in the infirmary at Shinra Headquarters. This had been the catalyst for her own promotion to the General Affairs Department, as the organisation's depleted numbers were ill-equipped to compete with the unparalleled skill of Sephiroth.
Chief Tseng had explained that the events surrounding the disappearance of Elena's sister, Rosalind, and her colleagues in the wake of the old AVALANCHE's demise had very nearly also seen the Turks shut down. It had been Rufus Shinra who had saved them, providing his father with evidence contradicting that of General Heidegger and Director Scarlet to show the unit had remained loyal to the Company. As such, their allegiance undoubtedly lay with the new President.
"With respect, sir," contended Elena, "why aren't you taking this more seriously? I thought we were on Priority S alert?"
"We are taking this very seriously," Tseng responded frankly, glowering at Reno. "What are the details of your assessment?"
"According to the soldiers at the barracks," she said, "a man in black matching Sephiroth's description killed two privates less than forty-eight hours ago."
"It's true," conceded Tseng, quietening his voice. "He was in Junon, but Heidegger doesn't want to start a panic before the parade."
"But, won't that compromise the President's safety?" Elena spluttered, aghast.
"The President's safety is secure because we're here," smirked Reno.
"Heidegger's a fool…" scoffed the ginger-haired man at the end of the bar, tapping his cigar against the souvenir turtle shell ashtray.
"Stay out of this," Tseng snarled, glaring fiercely at him.
"Whatever you say, old boy," he chortled sardonically, raising his hands in mock surrender before signalling for the waitress by waving his empty glass.
"President Rufus has made it perfectly clear that we are to proceed as planned," continued Tseng, regaining his composure and sipping his drink. "He believes Sephiroth has already crossed the ocean, and intends to fly to his Costa del Sol estate aboard one of the Gelnikas as soon as it has been prepared. Although, from what I hear, his inspection of the airbase last month was so damning that almost every plane in the fleet is currently out of service."
"Then, what do we do about Sephiroth?" Elena queried, puzzled by their indifferent attitude.
"Nothin'," shrugged Reno. "Like I said, rookie, he ain't here, yo."
"Is there anything else?" asked Tseng.
"No, Chief."
"Then, you are dismissed."
"Yes, sir," she nodded, turning on her heels, but hesitating as she began across the saloon. "Oh, and Reno, where's your partner?"
"Probably in some back alley dive, losing at poker," he mused flippantly. "Why?"
"No reason…" Elena shook her blonde head, muttering under her breath as she stormed towards the doorway of Turtle's Paradise. "The minute you think this job's boring, you guys start messing around…"
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