Chapter Two

The ride to Dismal was filled largely with small talk on Dalton's part. Zack had decided that it would be best to let Sephiroth make the replies, but the silver-haired man seemed unwilling to say more than short, coolly polite sentences. Dalton did not seem bothered by this, though Zack noticed that he would then pose the same queries to Zack, as if wondering if the brunet would respond differently.

The questions appeared innocent enough. Dalton asked how Midgar was, what it was like to be in SOLDIER, and if Shinra had any plans for what was left of the village. Sephiroth said that Midgar was fine, that being in SOLDIER was only for those who were strong enough to meet the challenge, and that Shinra had no immediate plans for Dismal. Zack knew that that would change, however, if there truly was an uprising in the works. Sephiroth did not voice this, though as he spoke, he did give Dalton a dark, warning stare. If Dalton received the silent message, he did not give any indication of it.

His home was right next door to the prison, and Zack had to admit, when he saw it he was surprised at the modern and well-to-do feel compared to the rundown-looking building beside it. The abode was not visible from the train tracks, or Zack would have noticed it then. He wondered how there had been enough money to construct such a pleasant residence.

Apparently, so did Sephiroth.

"Your prison's walls are in need of repair," he observed as they parked.

Dalton nodded amiably. "That they are," he agreed.

"And the stone wall around the grounds is cracked and split."

"Very true."

"Yet somehow you have enough money to live in a house that only a wealthy man could afford." Sephiroth nodded to the tall, perfectly intact brick gate, the manor's crisp white paint, and the sprawling levels with their many windows. There were at least two main floors, along with an attic and a basement. The yard was spacious as well, and though the area did not permit there to be grass, the landscape was quite enjoyable, with various rock formations and local plants scattered about in a natural, yet somehow professional looking way. To the left of the walkway to the porch was a large fountain, with water spilling over from three levels of bowls, each one larger than the one above it.

Dalton chuckled. "And you find it a contradiction," he said, as the door was opened by his chauffeur. He stepped out onto the dirt driveway, then waited for his guests.

"Would it surprise you if I said yes?" Sephiroth retorted as he also exited the vehicle.

"Man, a lot of people don't live this good even in a big city like Midgar," Zack exclaimed as he followed suit.

"A great man needs a great house, wouldn't you say?" Dalton said as he led them up the walkway to the large, wrap-around porch. Getting out his keyring, he found the proper object to let them into the house. Inserting it into the lock, he turned it and opened the door.

"We have a name for that kind of talk," Sephiroth grunted. He watched their host go in first, then stepped into the expansive parlor as well. "It's called blowing your own horn."

Dalton only smirked. "Here in Dismal, it's truthful," he said. "Not only am I the prison warden, I'm the mayor, and the only officer of law and order it has." He pocketed the keys and walked forward, his shoes clicking on the tiled floor.

Zack shut the door behind him as he entered. "So how do you catch all the bandits running around if you're the only guy on the job?" he frowned.

It was hard not to simply stop and gape at the room. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, weighed down with many sparkling prisms that danced and caught the light of the bulbs, then carried the glow all around the area. There were various potted plants in key locations, and the furniture looked as if it had been imported from Wutai. At any rate, the handmade rugs on the floor certainly must have came from that land.

He wished he knew why he had the nagging feeling that someone was watching them. Unless someone was using a security camera, there was not any place suitable for hiding and spying.

"Bandits?" Dalton repeated. "There are no bandits here. That's just misinformation carried abroad by those who wish to cast a bad light on what's left of the village. They misplace their items, and being too embarrassed to say so, they make up stories about the bandits. Come, I'll take you both on a tour of the house and show you to your rooms for the night." He walked ahead and turned to the right, passing by the staircase leading to the second floor and heading for a long hallway.

Zack looked to Sephiroth. "What do you think?" he asked.

"He's hiding something," Sephiroth answered. "That should be obvious. And he skillfully dodged the inquiry as to how he manages to pay for this house. I doubt it's been bought through legal means." With that, he also walked by, intending to catch up to Dalton. They would be polite, for now, and anyway, becoming familiar with the layout of this abode would be useful. If he or Zack found anything that looked remotely suspicious, he would want to try to get a better look at it later, when Dalton would be asleep. If there was anything incriminating, it might be more likely to be in this house as opposed to the prison, since he and Zack would be inspecting that building the next day.

Zack watched him go. It did seem likely that what he was saying could be true. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, how would anyone ever be able to live in a place so grand? Dalton did not even work for Shinra, or any other companies or businesses. Everyone had to work for themselves, and in a broken-down village such as this, that often meant becoming mercenaries or bounty hunters. So, what was it that he could be doing to earn money? Was he selling something on the black market? And what about the people he governed? Why would they feel that an arrangement of him having the only house and them staying out in tents was a good thing? Now there were more questions than answers.

He half-turned, intending to follow the others. But he stopped, his eyes narrowed with certainty. Someone was definitely there. And now he had an idea where that someone was concealed. He looked up at the large potted plant at the top of the stairs. It looked normal, or at least, it did until a wide leaf abruptly twitched. Curious now, he stepped closer. Was that an eye gleaming from amongst the foliage and the lavender and white flowers?

"First time I've seen a plant move on its own when there's no wind," he commented, loud enough that he hoped the criminal would hear.

A sound met his ears then, a sound very much like a giggle.

By now Zack was amused. "That's a really unique specimen this Dalton guy's got," he said. "I wonder if it can talk too?" He started up the stairs, keeping his gaze fixed on the object all the while. Now it did not move or laugh, but held perfectly still and silent. But the brunet could see a glimpse of something within it. As he reached the top, he stood looking at the spacious leaves for a long moment, as if in deep thought. Then, without warning he lunged, clapping his hands around them. "Gotcha!" he declared.

There was a shriek of delight, followed by more giggles. Then a small body popped out of the plant's center as little hands grabbed at Zack's arms.

"I thought so!" he said, lifting the child out and setting her on her feet. "We've got a stowaway!"

She grinned up at him, displaying her white teeth. "You're fun!" she said. "Mr. Dalton would've just yelled. I knew people were coming to stay here, 'cause I saw the maids fixing up the rooms. And I wanted to see! So I hid in the plant to watch!"

Zack bent down to her eye level. "Well," he replied, "I'm glad you did." He held out his hand. "Zack Fair, at your service."

She shook his hand, seeming thrilled with the positive attention. "I'm Maryn!" she announced.

"Maryn," Zack repeated. "I'm very glad to meet you." He took in her curled, shoulder-length red hair and her bright green eyes. "Hey, my best friend has eyes just about that color," he remarked.

"The man with the really, really long hair?" she chirped, gesturing with her hands down to her knees. "He wasn't smiling."

Zack chuckled. "He can look gruff, but don't let him fool ya. He's one of the best guys I know, long hair and all."

He could not help wondering what this little girl was doing here. She could not be older than five, possibly six, and since she did not appear to be related to Dalton, he wondered if she was the daughter of one of the maids. She was dressed in a new lavender dress with white trim that matched the flowers, and though Zack was not that familiar with various fabrics, he could see that this was made of a fine material. In any case, this was not a good place for a child. The house was nice, but it was the surroundings that concerned Zack. Well, the surroundings and the people.

"So tell me, Maryn, how did you come to end up out here in the great desert village of Dismal?" he queried.

She shrugged, some of her cheerfulness fading. "Mr. Dalton has to take care of me," she said after a short pause, "but he doesn't really want to." She might have said more, were they not suddenly interrupted.

"Here now! What's this?"

Both of them whirled around to look down the stairs. Dalton had came back, and he had his hand on the bottom of the banister, frowning in disapproval. Sephiroth stood next to him, raising an eyebrow as he gave Zack a questioning look. He crossed his arms, glancing from Zack to Maryn and back again.

"Really, Maryn, you should know better than this," Dalton scolded. "Don't bother Mr. Fair. He's a busy man and doesn't have time for childish games." He placed one foot on the first step, as if he was about to ascend, but then simply stayed where he was currently located. He seemed to think that he would be threatening enough without moving further.

Zack frowned now, straightening up. "Maryn wasn't bothering me," he said. "Actually, we were having a good chat." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her starting to smile again.

Now Dalton raised an eyebrow incredulously. "Well . . ." He shook his head, turning away. "If you'd care to join us on the tour, Mr. Fair, I'm sure you'll find something of interest."

Zack knew that it would be best for him to comply, and from Sephiroth's expression, the older man felt the same. "Sure," the brunet said, and looked back to Maryn. "Maybe we can talk more later, okay?" he suggested. He definitely wanted to hear the rest of her story, and he could tell that she was lonely. It did not surprise him. There was probably never anyone for her to play with or talk to. And he could already tell that it was a headache living with Dalton.

Now the child brightened and nodded. She did not speak, having seemed to retreat into a shell while Dalton was there.

Zack patted her head and jogged down the stairs, where their host was already heading down the hall again. "She was spying on me from the potted plant," he said by way of explanation to Sephiroth's continuing raised eyebrow stare. "Or both of us, really." He smirked, poking the other on his upper arm. "She thinks you don't smile."

Sephiroth ignored that remark. "What's she doing here?" he asked in a low tone as he started to walk toward the long corridor. "I wouldn't think this environment would be child-friendly."

"It's not," Zack agreed, as he followed alongside the silver-haired man. "And I'm not sure. She was saying something about Dalton being an unwilling guardian, but he butted in on us right then. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was on purpose." He placed his hands behind his head. "So, how far did you get before you realized I'd flown the coop?"

"This room," Sephiroth responded, nodding to the second door on the right. "He took me through the drawing room and the sitting room, and then we were in the library when he discovered your absence. I'd noticed almost immediately, but I said nothing, in case you had seen something that you wanted to investigate further."

"And I guess you could say I did," Zack smirked.

Sephiroth gave him a sidelong glance. "Are you already attached?" he inquired.

"Oh . . . I wouldn't say that," Zack mused. "Cute kid, though."

Now Sephiroth smirked slightly. "I think she's attached," he informed the other. "The look she gave you was one degree away from idol worship."

Zack was unfazed. "She was probably just happy to have someone who'd really talk to her." He did not say more on the subject, and Sephiroth did not press the matter.

The house and its many rooms were ostentacious, or so Sephiroth decided. They were filled with artifacts from the different lands and continents---vases, tapestries, armor---and most of them were from Wutai. Sephiroth recognized the style all too well, after the battle he had fought there in the past. There were also old and rare volumes, on subjects from philosophy, to religion, and even the wars of Gaia, coupled with The Art of Warfare. Zack frowned when he noticed the latter. If Sephiroth saw that book, he did not give any indication of it.

There were several locations throughout the manor that the silver-haired man committed to memory for later inspection. Among them were two certain bricks in the library's fireplace that seemed out of place with the rest, as well as a section of a wall in the den that was a lighter shade than the space around it. Those spots could be perfectly innocent and normal, but on the other hand, they could be concealing secret passages and trapdoors. Perhaps behind them were clues as to how Dalton's money flourished.

"Well," said Dalton presently, "what do you think?" By now they were standing in the attic, which seemed clean and fresh, and was serving as a storage area. Boxes were stacked about, both on the floor and on metal shelves that were against the walls. There was an old floor lamp with a blue shade in a corner, a matching blue table lamp on top of a box, and a jade statue of a cat on a nearby shelf. The thought idly crossed Sephiroth's mind that it seemed especially odd for the figurine to be hidden away. It would fit with the decor of the house quite well.

Zack nodded approvingly. "Nice place you've got here," he said in an honest tone. He was truly impressed with the quality of the building, especially when it was out in the desert. But he certainly did wonder what secrets it was hiding, and he also was perplexed as to why these particular items in view had been placed here. They were in perfectly good condition, from what he could see.

Sephiroth nodded as well. "Obviously you have some way of earning funds," he mused then, again quietly inviting Dalton to share his tale---even if it would be a truthless one.

"Money doesn't come easily out on the desert," Dalton answered with a supposedly friendly smile. Sephiroth had the feeling that there was thinly veiled venom behind it---perhaps hatred for Shinra. "But we get by. I've taken out some stock in businesses that are on the golden plate just to the north of here. It proves . . . quite profitable."

"So I see." It was a reasonable explanation, even a sensible one. Maybe it was even true, to an extent. Sephiroth silently mused over exactly what kinds of businesses might be up there in which to invest stock. The term was probably being used lightly.

"I thought it was just an amusement park and a hotel up there," Zack broke in, crossing his arms, "and a casino or two."

Sephiroth briefly glanced at the other. Zack had voiced the thoughts that he himself had been pondering upon. As far as he knew, there was not anything else. The golden plate was purely a tourist trap.

Dalton blinked in surprise at the remark. "Why . . . yes," he said then, chuckling, "that's about it. I guess there's no harm in saying I'm a gambler." He gestured at the walls of the attic. "It paid off, wouldn't you say?"

Zack gave a low whistle. "I'll say. Don't suppose that kinda luck is contagious, do you?"

Dalton looked amused. "You never can tell." He strolled out of the room and back to the narrow stairs, calmly descending them to the second floor. When he heard the other two following him, he headed down the hall until he came to two doors in particular. These he flung open, revealing the bedrooms beyond.

"And here," he declared, "are your rooms, gentlemen. Hopefully they'll be adequate."

Zack peered into the first one he came to. It was quite spacious, with a high ceiling, a small but fancy chandelier, and furniture made of oak. The canopy bed instantly looked welcoming, and Zack had to quickly stifle a yawn he felt rising in his throat. He diverted his attention by glancing at the barred, picture window directly across from them.

"Wow, home sweet home," he remarked wryly. "Hey, Seph, looks like the prison influenced some of the decor!" And he was not certain he liked it. He knew that he was likely to feel like one of the convicts every time he was in the room.

From Sephiroth's expression, he was thinking the same thing. And it would be so easy to transform the bedrooms into cells, if it was wished. They would have to be on guard, in case for some reason the doors would suddenly be locked from the outside. "What is the explanation for this?" he demanded, looking to their host.

Dalton shrugged. "Just a precaution," he explained casually, "in case there's a prison break next door and they try to commandeer the house." He half-turned, waving it away with his hand. "But that won't be happening, I can assure you. There is nothing to be concerned about." Now he started to head for the stairs. "Feel free to freshen up for dinner. It will most likely be on the table by the time you both are through."

Sephiroth observed him quietly. That may be so, he thought, but it seemed to him that Dalton was trying to break away now that the conversation had switched to the topic of a prison break. And it was too convenient.

"You say there aren't actually any bandits," he spoke, watching Dalton halt at the top of the staircase. Had he stiffened slightly, as well? "Who is being incarcerated in the penitentiary?"

The man laughed slightly. "Oh . . . no one much. Just the few villagers foolish enough to break the rules." His tone sounded ominous, and Sephiroth and Zack exchanged a look at his words. Before either could continue the line of questioning, he was halfway down the steps. "I'll see you both in a few minutes!" he called.

Zack frowned. "Yeah . . . sure!" he replied hesitantly with a small wave.

He turned back to his friend. "Well . . . what do you think of this one, Seph?" he asked in a low tone. "What rules do you figure they've got in a . . ." He lowered his voice further. ". . . A dump like this?"

Sephiroth shook his head, his green eyes narrowed in a grim way. "I don't know," he muttered. "It's something we'll have to get him to tell us." He walked to the doorway of the other open room, placing his hand on the frame before looking back.

"I doubt that even if his luck is superb, he would have been able to win enough currency to construct this establishment," he remarked.

Zack nodded immediately. "Yeah, same here," he said. "But man . . . does he really think we'll be stupid enough to fall for these stories he's feeding us?"

"Who knows. He and his people are asinine, if they're planning to go up against Shinra and attack Midgar. But somehow I doubt that he thinks we're brainless, just cruel and power-hungry." Sephiroth looked annoyed. "Maybe he wants to taunt us by speaking to us as if we're idiots."

Zack smirked slightly. "And that would definitely be a good way to get at you, huh, Seph?"

Sephiroth grunted, removing his hand from the woodwork. "For now, we'll play his game and prepare for dinner," he said, ignoring Zack's comment.

Zack nodded in agreement. "Sure thing." He continued to smirk. "Gotta say, food is sounding really good right now. So's that bed." Three hours of sleep were definitely beginning to catch up with him. He wished that he had been able to nap on the train. Now, in addition to feeling as though he would doze any moment, his body was aching, as it often did when he had not gotten enough rest. He wondered if Sephiroth ever had that problem, or if he had managed to train himself to not perceive it, if he did.

"Hopefully you'll have a chance to use it," Sephiroth said. "At some point tonight, we're going to need to investigate a few things in this house."

Zack shook his head in a mock woebegone way. "I was afraid you'd say that," he whimpered with an accompanying moan. Then he snickered and vanished into the room.

Sephiroth watched him go, then smirked slightly to himself as he turned and entered the other room. Zack could come across as such a foolish person, when he wanted to. But he was one of the smartest and most reliable men the warrior knew. If anyone believed otherwise, then that person was the true fool.

Dinner was more like a banquet. The main course was fried chicken on a platter in the middle of the table. Surrounding it were bowls of mashed potatoes, three kinds of gravy, yams, peas and green beans, and cranberry sauce. Their places were already set, and Maryn was at the table, struggling to pour herself a glass of ice water. The full pitcher wobbled, and she clutched it desperately, her expression scrunched in worried concentration.

Zack quickly sized up the situation and walked over to her. "Need some help?" he said grandly.

She looked up, instantly brightening as he leaned over and held the crystal container steady for her as the water flowed into the glass. "Mr. Zack!" she beamed.

"Oooh, just Zack," he smiled, assisting in setting the pitcher safely back on the table. "'Mister' makes me feel so old."

"Okay, Zack!" she said agreeably as she sat down. "Will you sit by me?"

"I'd be honored." The brunet began to dish up his food, then laid the plate by the seat next to hers. Sephiroth, who had gathered his own portions while Zack had been helping with the water, chose the next place. Dalton was next to him and across from Maryn, as the guests were both sitting at the end of the long table.

"It seems," Dalton commented in a low voice, "that your associate has quickly made friends with young Maryn." He sounded casual enough, if one did not pay special attention, but Sephiroth was definitely doing exactly that. To him, there was an undercurrent of displeasure in their host's tone. He did not care for this development, and the SOLDIER wondered why, though he definitely had his suspicions.

"Zack has that affect on most people," Sephiroth answered curtly. It had taken him a bit longer to warm up to the cheerful, easy-going brunet, whose personality was so different from the silver-haired man's own serious, reserved nature. But Zack had been persistent, as he always was, and somehow they had wound up being close friends as well as comrades. Sometimes Sephiroth would even play along with Zack's jokes, delivering some comeback or another. The raven-haired man had managed to encourage the other to open parts of his personality that he generally kept hidden.

"Including the little ones."

Sephiroth nodded. "Yes." He knew that Zack especially liked them. Sometimes he had mentioned looking after the village children in his hometown of Gongoga, and how it was like having two dozen younger siblings. Sephiroth was not certain what he thought about it. At any rate, it sounded as though they would have always kept Zack busy. The green-eyed man could easily imagine Zack running around the town, trying to keep track of everyone and to keep them out of mischief---and probably not always succeeding.

To Sephiroth, it seemed as though it would be a headache. He always imagined looking after many kids to be akin to him trying to teach the various new SOLDIER recruits. No, on second thought, it would probably be worse. He had quite a bit of patience, and often enjoyed what he did, but even his good nature could be strained at times by the various havoc that would inadvertantly get created. He had the feeling that he could never do what Zack had accomplished in Gongoga. So very many juveniles would overwhelm him, not that he would ever admit it.

"And what about you, sir?"

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, turning to study Dalton questioningly.

The brown-haired man looked amused. "You don't exactly seem the sort who would appreciate children bothering you." He held a goblet as he spoke, swishing around the liquid inside.

"I don't." But that did not mean that Sephiroth disliked all children. On the contrary, he was quite accepting of them when they were not the types to be constantly and deliberately causing trouble, or always getting into things they should not. He would not say so, however. He was not in the mood, and he wanted to see how Dalton would react.

"Ah, Maryn would be a hardship for you, then." Dalton smirked ruefully, looking to her and Zack quite happily chatting before turning his attention back to Sephiroth. "She's always underfoot, or into something, or asking some irrelevant question when I need to be working. I can never have any peace. I'm sure you understand." He leaned back, sipping from the goblet.

Sephiroth actually thought that Maryn seemed to be a sweet child, and not one who would be extremely inquisitive and hard to handle. He bit slowly into the piece of chicken, chewing and swallowing before glancing over at Dalton once more. "Then why is she here?" he asked, not acknowledging the other's last comment.

Dalton shrugged. "Her family died when the mako reactor exploded," he explained. "Both of her parents were working there at the plant. She doesn't have any other living relatives, and since the villagers of Dismal look after each other, I felt it my duty to take her in." He shook his head. "I won't deny I wish she had somewhere else to go, but what can I do?"

Sephiroth nodded slowly. He had not expected that explanation, but it made sense. And it gave him another of the openings for which he had been searching. "You say the villagers look after each other," he mused. "It's interesting, then, that it was some of those very villagers who detonated the mako reactor and directly caused the deaths of everyone in close proximity." He noted Dalton's expression suddenly becoming tight, but he did not stop there. "Would you mind explaining to me how such actions could be considered as 'looking after each other'?"

The other man placed the goblet back on the table and suddenly became very involved with eating his food. Sephiroth simply waited, eating as well. Dalton was either collecting his thoughts or else trying not to get angry---or both.

At last the warden made a show of wiping his mouth with the napkin before looking back up at Sephiroth. "The reactor malfunctioned on its own, as we've told Shinra many times," he said. "No one deliberately set it off. None of us would have done anything so foolish."

"And yet there are witnesses who identified certain townspeople as being part of the rebel faction AVALANCHE, and who said that they were seen breaking into the reactor room immediately prior to its explosion." Sephiroth knew that this discussion would get nowhere, if he planned to attempt having the final word. His pride certainly wanted that, but he knew that he had to concentrate on the goal at hand, which was to find anything questionable in the other's words, anything that could be helpful in this investigation.

Dalton snorted. "Most likely they were paid by Shinra to say those things." He gave Sephiroth a sideways glance. "You're their favorite SOLDIER, everyone knows that. And being so highly ranked, you must have access to a lot of information that other SOLDIERs would not have, maybe not even your friend." He nodded to Zack, but never took his gaze away from Sephiroth. "You probably know the truth about what happened here, and if you don't, you could most likely find out." He paused thoughtfully. "Unless you're really a marionette yourself, under the control of Shinra, and you honestly believe you're fighting for righteousness even if you are not. But I highly doubt it. You're too intelligent to not know what Shinra truly is doing."

Sephiroth did, indeed, believe that he knew the truth about the Dismal incident, but he knew there was not any point in saying so. In any case, he appreciated Zack continuing to speak with the girl. The brunet genuinely wanted to talk with her, but he also realized what Sephiroth wanted and that keeping Maryn distracted for a while would enable him to converse with their host and hopefully discern something that would prove profitable to them.

"And what do you think Shinra is doing?" Sephiroth asked calmly.

Dalton shoved a forkful of gravy-drenched mashed potatoes into his mouth. "They want control of this entire world!" he said in between chews. He swallowed, reaching for the goblet again. "Any time anyone is unhappy with the idea of their reign, another area ends up like Dismal . . . or worse." He gulped down the liquid and then set the glass aside. Though he was still speaking quietly, the fuel in his voice now was obvious. "Some of these places have been put under Shinra rule. Dismal was let off easy."

"Shinra is only aggressive when they or their lands are threatened," Sephiroth responded. "Surely you don't find it an abomination to defend oneself against assaults?"

"It's how and when they do it that's the abomination!" Dalton retorted. He gripped the fork tightly, looking as though he wanted to stab it into something other than a potato. "Look at Dismal, razed to the ground!"

"The people of Dismal were responsible for at least half of that," Sephiroth grunted. "As for Shinra finishing what was started, such drastic measures would not have been taken if they had not been deemed necessary." He ate slowly, looking at his plate, and then raised his gaze to Dalton's. "And you realize, that if we find evidence that an uprising is now being planned, we will retaliate."

"Of course." Dalton seemed to relax suddenly, as if his inner "fury switch" had been turned off. He smiled amiably, as if nothing had angered him at all. "But there is nothing for you to worry about. There is no uprising."

"So it's another story thought up by the same people who tell about the bandits?" Sephiroth returned dryly.

Dalton blinked, then chuckled quietly. "Yes," he said, "yes, I imagine so."