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45. Zack: Fighter
Zack was losing himself. He could feel it. Pieces kept trying to work loose and skitter away. It was only through supreme self-control that he'd held on this long. There was only so much of being treated like an animal a person could take before he started acting the part.
He fought, of course. He promised himself he'd keep fighting no matter what; but he could feel himself reducing down to his basic elements, shedding social norms and behaviours that only existed in the world outside the labs.
"I wonder if I'd know how to use a knife and fork anymore," he remarked to Cloud. "Or if I could fly a kite. Of course, I couldn't do that in the first place, but that's beside the point. If I could fly a helicopter, surely I could fly a kite. Right? Oh yeah, I forgot, helicopters are a no-go area with you, aren't they? You're the guy who crashed a chopper when we first met."
They'd been left alone and awake, which was unusual. Naturally Zack treated the development with suspicion, but didn't let on. As if Cloud cared whether or not he maintained his sunny disposition. Still, maybe it was like with people in comas, who couldn't respond but could still hear people talking to them. Or something.
"Crap, I'm cold. You'd think they'd at least spring for some clothes if they're going to leave us high and dry like this." Zack rubbed his arms, trying to restore warmth via friction. "I guess you think I'm a giant wuss, huh? Big tough SOLDIER can't even cope with a little chill. This is probably like summertime compared to Nibelheim, right buddy? Your stories of Winters in the mountains always made me wonder what it'd be like to spend Yule surrounded by snow, instead of trying to decorate a palm tree like we did in Gongaga -"
The door opened. Zack snapped to attention. Three white-coats came in, two of them wheeling a gurney. He wondered who it was meant for. The frightened looks on their faces said it was him. They weren't scared of Cloud fighting back, whereas Zack knew he'd hospitalised at least one scientist the last time they extracted him while he fully conscious.
"Hey, guys. Time for another fun day at the grindstone?"
"Shouldn't we sedate the specimen?" asked the man with salt-and-pepper hair. He sounded nervous. Good.
"The Professor wants it copus-mentus for the trial."
"It? It? Hey, dudes and dudettes, since you guys neglected to provide clothes, I think it's pretty obvious which gender I am."
The woman scientist sniffed. She had the drawn look of someone who habitually got so into her work she forgot to eat, and when she remembered lunch it was consumed over a sink or at her workstation. Hojo probably adored her. "Muscle relaxant, continually applied in small doses during transportation. It can recover remarkably quickly, so revitalization shouldn't be a problem." She tapped at a console and a whirring started up in the top of Zack's tube.
A compartment slid back. The glittering point of a needle appeared. No, not a needle, he realised, but a dart. There was no place for him to run and no way of shielding himself in the narrow cylinder. Talk about shooting fish in a barrel
"Aw shit."
He grabbed the first two darts out of the air in both hands, but the third hit home. Almost immediately he collapsed. There was a brief white-out when his head cracked against the glass, but it only lasted a second, and then he was boneless but awake in a crumpled and extremely uncomfortable – not mention embarrassing – heap on the bottom of his tube, like used coffee grounds nobody wanted. He was perfectly aware of what was going on, he just couldn't stop it as he was bundled out and away down yet another generic corridor.
Well at least if they're concentrating on me, they're not trying to restore Cloud's consciousness by cutting pieces off him again.
One of the only consolations of Cloud's vegetative state was the fact he wasn't aware of what Hojo and his goon squad did to him. At least, that was what Zack was trying to convince himself of, even if it conflicted with the reasoning that also had him talking incessantly to Cloud. He had to balance the two impulses without trying to make them fit together, since he was excruciatingly aware of what happened to Cloud – and himself.
Zack was wheeled into a bare room and left there. The whoosh and click of a door told him all three jailers had vamoosed. Feeling came back into his limbs quickly, which also told him they hadn't set up an automatic dosage of muscle relaxant this time. He was still tied down, but a few experimental tugs revealed the restraints wouldn't stand in his way if he used SOLDIER strength. That, however, was what he suspected they wanted him to do. The word 'trap' bounced around his skull like an agitated grasshopper. He lay still, listening intently and planning what to do next.
"I know you're awake, Z." Hojo's voice echoed. Zack remembered shouting into caves outside Gongaga to get acoustics like that. He used to make his high voice sound deeper than the bottom of the ocean, and pretended he was a monster coming to eat the smaller kids who had followed him out of town. They'd been scared and delighted at the same time, begging him to do it again when they figured out it was him. "I know you can move. The drugs have worn off. Your vital readings are right in front of me."
The memories of Gongaga and his own childhood fortified Zack's sense of self, and his resilience. "We keep going over this. For a smart guy, you're pretty dumb. The name's Zack. Where are you?"
Hojo didn't laugh. He did, however, have a smile in his voice as he spoke. "Everywhere and nowhere. Rather godlike, wouldn't you say?"
"I'd say I want to know where you and your cameras are so I can flip the bird in the right direction."
Hojo tutted. "You really are an uncouth lout, aren't you? All that training, all that time invested by your mentor, all that money spent on your enhancements, and you yet remain a southern ruffian with the manners of a urinating carthorse."
"Careful, you might hurt my feelings." Job done, actually. There merest mention of Angeal was enough to raise Zack's hackles. An unmitigated asshole like Hojo had no right tainting Angeal's memory by mentioning him at a time like this. The knowledge that Hojo once had access to his mentor – had probably conducted tests on him, too, during mako treatments at the Midgar facility – made Zack's blood boil. He kept it hidden. There was no point showing Hojo where his buttons were. The sicko would just push them more. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Hojo? What's the matter – didn't they let you in on their fun? Did you want to be a SOLDIER and they wouldn't let a skinny geek like you take part in the other side of the programme? I'll bet you were shoved into your locker a lot in school, huh?"
Hojo's voice was beyond frosty. Ice ages were warmer. "You're wasting time, Z."
"I sense your male pride was injured by that snub. Did I hit a nerve?"
"Every second you waste is a second Specimen C comes closer to death."
Zack sat up so fast he didn't even hear the restraints snap. So much for not showing Hojo where his buttons were. The act was automatic, and it was only after the straps were dangling from his wrists that Zack realised it was the wrong thing to do. "What have you done with Cloud?"
"You really are quite attached to that boy, aren't you? One might infer all sorts of things from that."
"Where. Is. He?" All humour left Zack's voice. He knew it was ill-advised to let Hojo know he'd gotten to him, but damn it, if they hadn't figured out Cloud was important by now, they were even dumber than Zack had joked.
Expediency was key. They knew they could get to him through Cloud, and they used that to their advantage. Whatever their ultimate plan, Zack still didn't know, but he did know he'd been throwing spanner after spanner into the works by staying true to himself and fighting them at every turn. Hurting him to make him cooperate hadn't worked. Now they had graduated to emotional blackmail. Hurt Cloud and you hurt Zack. He would capitulate a lot more to protect Cloud than to protect himself.
Part of Zack was surprised they hadn't resorted to this before. The rest was just filled with fear at what this meant for Cloud. The poor guy couldn't fight back even if he wanted to. "What are you playing at, Hojo?"
"Go to the door in the far left corner of the room."
"Hojo -"
"Go or C dies."
Gritting his teeth, Zack did as he was told.
"Good boy."
"Fuck you."
Hojo sighed, but directed him down another corridor to an anteroom filled with SOLDIER uniforms, plus body armour and thick-soled standard black boots. The clothes were all hung on pegs and lined up in rows according to size. There were even balled-up socks, underwear and leather gloves in neat piles.
"Outfit yourself."
"What is this cr–?"
"Do it or C's head will be waiting for you when you return to your stasis pod. Minus the rest of him," Hojo added needlessly. Anyone would think he got off on rubbing salt in open wounds.
Zack's molars almost cracked. His jaw clenched. He had to keep his mouth shut. Despite what he'd said to Cloud less than half an hour ago, he remembered how to dress himself and did so speedily. It felt odd to have cloth against his skin again, especially the familiarity of a SOLDIER uniform.
The sensation just solidified how important it was to hold on to himself and not forget who he was. It would be much simpler to let go, but this tiny glimpse of his old life was enough to convince Zack that he couldn't give up. He wouldn't give Hojo the satisfaction. He would stay strong, and eventually they'd get out of here. How, he wasn't sure, but they would, and then he'd take Cloud … where? Not back to Nibelheim. Gongaga? Or … Midgar. Yeah, that would be their first port of call. Midgar was Shinra's stomping ground, but it was also where Aerith was. Aerith could heal Cloud; she could wake him up, make him all better, and Zack had to admit he just plain wanted to see her again.
How long has it been? Is she still waiting for me to come back?
Memories of her face, her laugh, her scent and that of her and her garden bullwhipped through his brain. He knew he'd missed her, but hadn't realised how much until that moment. His legs tried to buckle. He locked his knees. Not now. Much as it pained him, he shoved away thoughts of her and concentrated on the present.
"Arm yourself," said Hojo's disembodied voice. A door swung open onto a miniature armoury.
"What the hell is going on?" Zack muttered.
For once, Hojo seemed inclined to answer. "A test of your abilities and your loyalties, Z. How far would you go to protect C? He's a useless subject, valuable only as dog food as far as I'm concerned, but perhaps you can extend his life by means of task-completion exercises."
"You want me to do stuff for you, and in exchange you keep Cloud alive."
"Once again you boil things down to their crudest form. Haven't you chosen a weapon yet?"
It felt weird not having the Buster Sword. One of the broadswords leaning against the wall had to suffice. Zack swung it experimentally. It whickered through the air. He hoped he hadn't lost his touch. It had been a long time since he held a sword, and the last time hadn't exactly been his finest moment. He wasn't wearing a harness or scabbard, so he had to carry it as another door opened and Hojo 'encouraged' him to step through.
"What the f–"
The dragon was massive; easily bigger than a tank. Tusks the size of Zack's arm jutted from its lower jaw. It was restrained by means of a large metal collar and four thick chains pulled taut and attached to four metal posts stretched between floor and ceiling. If it tried to move it would strangle itself. As Zack comprehended just what he was looking at, the beast snarled and lunged at him, the snarl gurgling away into a choked noise as the collar tightened like a dog on a choke-chain leash. The restraints held, but only just.
Zack stepped backwards.
"Kill it."
He stopped. "What?"
"Kill it and Specimen C will be allowed to live."
Zack frowned. His expression changed to one of panic when a terrible clanging rent the air, and suddenly the chains disengaged from the walls and dropped to the ground, freeing the dragon. Even though it was weighted down by the collar and four trailing chains, that didn't reduce its speed. It lunged again, and Zack had to leap aside or be bitten in two.
The door had sealed. There was a barely a line in the wall to signify it had been there at all. Out here, too, there was no sign of any speakers, but Hojo's voice was as clear as water pouring into a glass.
"Time waits for no man, Z. Neither do I."
Zack's natural impulse was to do exactly the opposite of what Hojo wanted. A sliver of his brain demanded to know whether or not Cloud really was in danger before he complied with anything that bastard ordered, but he knew he couldn't take any chances. Cloud was as much Hojo's prisoner as Zack himself, and it wasn't just likely Hojo would carry out his threats if Zack didn't play along, it was inevitable. Zack recalled all the things Hojo and his team had done to their two captives already, and shuddered to think what new atrocities they could come up with under the guise of 'punishment'.
The dragon threw back its head and roared. Spittle trailed from its jaws, shining up its tusks like boots polished by an eager cadet. It pawed the ground and roared again, hunching its shoulders forward but not attacking. It seemed like it was trying to make itself look even bigger.
"They're about to engage, sir. We should … we should leave. I mean, it would be advisable to retreat. Now."
Zack blinked. The memory of the journey to Nibelheim was a strong one. He could practically feel the cold on his face and hear the snow crunching beneath his feet. Cloud could have been standing right beside him with that look he always got when he thought he was about to become human puree but didn't want to admit he was freaked, and Zack half expected Sephiroth to step in and take over pest control again. The pang that caused was swiftly driven away. Sephiroth was dead, and Cloud wouldn't be giving any more advice on how to deal with dragons unless he got strenuous medical treatment. He wouldn't even be forming facial expressions unless his mind recovered, and there was no guarantee of that happening even if a doctor got a look at him.
Aerith. Distracting or not, the idea took root. Aerith wasn't a doctor, she was an Ancient, and everyone knew the old stories of how Ancients could do things normal humans couldn't. If he could get Cloud to Aerith, she'd be able to fix him. Everything would be okay, and not just for Cloud, either. If Zack could see her again, hold her in his arms, maybe he'd be able to forget what he'd been through in the labs and feel like a person again.
"They're displaying, sir. Intimidation tactics. They each try to make the other one back down like this, and if that doesn't work, they fight."
This wasn't an Acid Dragon, but it was definitely displaying. Zack tried hard to remember what else Cloud had said about the best way to fight them.
"It's always a fight to the death, and they get quite violent."
"Damn -" Zack didn't get any further. The dragon, finished with its display, decided Zack wasn't backing down and so attacked in earnest. "You're not even to blame for this! You didn't ask to be here any more than I did."
One massive claw raked the ground where he'd been seconds before. The dragon hissed and unfurled large wings. They'd be useless for actual flight in here, but it swept them forward like an extra set of arms. Zack dodged left and then right, knowing instinctively that if one of those deceptively fragile membranes hit him, it could break bones. He advanced and then held back. He wasn't a cruel man, and the idea of killing an innocent animal just to please a madman with a microphone made him balk.
I'm not his tool or plaything, he thought furiously. I'm Zack Fair, and I'm not going to be manipulated into becoming Hojo's personal killing machine –
A strange noise reached him. It was so soft, barely more than a sigh, that it shouldn't have registered over the dragon, but somehow it seemed even louder than the roaring to Zack.
"I have just cut Specimen C's throat. Eliminate your target quickly, Z, and I will repair the damage. He may yet survive if you're fast enough."
Zack's grip on the broadsword tightened so much he had to remind himself not to buckle it with his strength. He had no doubts Hojo was telling the truth. "Sorry, buddy," he said with genuine regret, despite the fact the dragon was trying to kill him. It was reacting on instinct to protect itself.
Zack was trying to protect his best friend.
He rushed the creature. He was a blur of movement the dragon's eyes couldn't follow as he finally cut loose, aiming to finish this quickly. The leap at its head proved futile with those wings providing aerial cover. There would be no repeat of Sephiroth's technique here. The dragon tried to turn and bite him, but Zack brought his blade around in a low arc that slashed a gaping wound across its underbelly. Blood and noxious bile spilled onto the floor. As the dragon reared back in shock and pain, he whipped the sword up and drove it deep into the exposed throat. Seconds later it was all over.
Zack stood, a little breathless but otherwise barely winded by the exercise. It was amazing how skills he'd thought might be atrophied had come back to him when he needed them. He stared at the hand around the sword-hilt. Maybe there was still hope for him to function normally if – when – he got out of here and returned to regular society.
"Well done, Z."
Zack spun, trying to locate the source of Hojo's voice. "Where's Cloud?"
"Right here."
The world blurred and Hojo's face materialised as if out of thin air. Something clicked and rattled close to Zack's ears and his scalp felt suddenly lighter, as if an iron band had been removed. The reality wasn't too far removed from that idea. Hojo was holding a VR helmet, of the kind Angeal used to make Zack practise with when he was still a cocky Second Class who would've gotten himself killed with his risk-taking in the field.
Zack suppressed a groan. The signals his body was sending his brain conflicted with what his eyes told him was going on. He wasn't in a blank room with the corpse of a dead dragon. He wasn't in SOLDIER uniform. He was in a tiny circle in the same lab as the tubes. Dozens of infinitesimal needles were inserted under his skin to mess with his sensory array and fool his body into believing it was somewhere else. When he moved, he felt cloth against his skin, when the reality was quite different. The sword in his hand was nothing but a wooden duplicate. It was tilted towards him so he could stare at it the way he'd been staring at the metal one only seconds ago, before Hojo brought him back to reality.
"Anything can be achieved with the proper motivation," Hojo said mildly to the white-coats behind him.
Zack shook himself. Whatever warped signals his nerves were getting, the fact remained that he was free, and he's bet his ass he was stronger than anyone else in this room. More desperate, too. The opportunity was too good to pass up. He strode forward, intending to use the wooden sword in ways it had never been designed to be used, until he caught sight of the figure pinned like a butterfly with outstretched wings against a nearby examination table.
Hojo had indeed cut Cloud's throat. The wound wasn't deep enough to kill instantly, especially someone with as much mako in him as Cloud did, but without proper treatment …
Hojo followed his gaze. "An unfortunate development brought on by your hesitancy. Shall we go over a ground rule or two? When given an order, you will comply immediately and without question. To do otherwise is to precipitate more damage to C. As I said before, C is a useless specimen in himself, but he does serve as a functional stimulus for your development, Z." Zack had seen smiles like that before, on the sharks in the Costa del Sol Aquarium. "Your emotional attachment to him, which I initially thought of as detrimental to your progress, is in actuality quite auspicious. You will do as you are told, or C will suffer. You will not question what you are told to do, or C will suffer. You will not hesitate, or C will suffer. Disobey in any way and C will suffer. Are we clear?"
A sick feeling washed over Zack. The walls of his prison suddenly seemed a whole lot closer.
Hojo's hand twitched. It was a calculated move to make Zack look at it, and at the blood-stained scalpel held slack in his fingers. "Are we clear?" he asked again.
Zack resisted the urge to shut his eyes. He met Hojo's gaze squarely and defiantly. Oh yeah, they were clear. Zack swore a solemn promise in that moment to someday do to Hojo what he'd just done to that virtual dragon. "Crystal."