A/N: And still I push on. For you Asuka fans, bear with me. Things are not as they seem! Remember all that Mary-Sue stuff I told you before? Yeah, here it comes...
Once again dates might be incorrect. Please tell me the corrections if known
Gulp! OK, steel yourselves folks, this might get ugly...
Ch 2: Your smile- a grimace
December, 1999
Jericho, West bank,
"Mmmphh..." the young woman moaned.
Her lithe body molded against the man's. Supple against stiff, smooth against rough, lust against need, the two bodies intertwined. Convulsing in the throes of sex, they rolled together, the smell of their intercourse and alcohol overpowering the smell of musk in the dingy one-room apartment where they had agreed to meet.
Warmth against mechanical cold.
Even in the heat of passion, Keel's mechanical body (at least the neck down) would not become warm enough to be comfortable to his partner. Not that it mattered. Being comfortable wasn't part of the job description. She was supposed to provide it, not receive. It was to be expected, as she hadn't been getting many "fringe benefits" lately.
Holy. They all believed they were ordained by a higher power to do some supernatural bidding. But they were still men. Still, this was nothing and soon they would be tainted with a different kind of sin. They were important men. Like all important men, they had secrets.
She was one of them.
They had no idea that they were all "clients" of the same person. If they had known, it might have been different, if only to protect their "image". To whom? They all held power, but few had ever seen their faces. They could deny it at any moment. Have her killed, and no one would ask questions. No one ever did, that's how they had stayed alive, and more importantly, in control for the past sixty-six years. And besides, why ask questions? The motto of the employees was "All you needed was faith".
After all, they were important men.
They were beginning to pull out soon, the men and their puppets had been here for a long time. Digging here, poking there, they never made a mess of things. Always quiet, never making a sound, until one day, the bulldozers no one knew existed left. The towns dried up, and only a few were left to clean up the remains.
Keel was one of them. Underneath the pious persona was the ego of a man who liked to get his hands dirty from time to time. Now, there was minimal risk, and therefore the perfect time to indulge had presented itself. Just a quick visit, much akin to a smoker taking one last drag before quitting.
The Next Morning.
The sun shone through the windows, and light was slightly colored by the grime that incrusted them.
"Good morning", whispered Abrienda in a thick accent.
The man to her left just grunted and turned away, back facing her. She usually just left her clients alone when she woke up, quietly slipping her clothes on and leaving. She always demanded payment before transactions. This time though, she didn't know what got into her. She just had an inexplicable feeling about this man, or machine, or what ever he was. He was a cyborg, which still amazed the prostitute. She wasn't well educated, but she knew that such technology had to be years ahead of the times.
When asked about the subject, he had told her that it was just a prototype, and in the coming future he planed to upgrade to the real thing, once the final measures were completed. He hadn't bothered to tell her the origin of his injuries, and even while half-drunk, proceeded to thoroughly confuse the girl by explaining the technical know-how of his devices with the oblivious delight of a nerd explaining why his paladin was the best to a confused parent.
After seeing the confused look on her face, he just laughed and they moved on to the business at hand. Straight. She followed willingly, expecting not to be disappointed for once. She had been wrong, as usual. He had been rough, cold and uncaring. With the inexperience of one was no virgin, but who had never given thought to his partner. Still she had a feeling; she would see more of him. This time she was right.
Two weeks later.
"Uuugggghh!" She gagged, as she got up out of the bed, stumbled and ran into the bathroom.
She he them proceeded to puke violently into the toilet against the wall. Colors of green, yellow, and orange mixed with clear spit flowed from her mouth.
Keel Lorenz sat up instantly, and looked at the girl bent over the toilet.
Vomit, his sleepy mind registered. 'Why is she vomiting? Morning sickness? No. We were careful, right?' He leap over to the trash can by the bed, and checked the used condom. No leaks or breaks were visible. He then walked over to her, face still buried in the toilet bowl. He pulled the hair out of her face and rubbed her back. 'Obviously not' he mused.
After she was done, he wiped her mouth and sat her on the bed. Compassion wasn't foreign to Lorenz. After all, it was the very sentiment that had motivated Keel in the beginning. Neither was fear. She began to cry.
"How did this happen? We used a contraceptive every time, and when we didn't, you said you were safe! " He asked in fluent Arabic. The panic was not well hidden.
"It's alright, I'll drop you off at the clinic and-"
Drop you off.
He would never allow himself to be shamed with her. That was for those who were in love, not infatuation.
"No." she whispered. "Not murder."
Why couldn't she do it? She was a prostitute, for God's sake! But he had changed her. Being in the first monogamous relationship, in a long, long time and been to her soul like water to a dirty glass, much cleaner, but not free of stain. She'd even started going back to services in the short time they'd been together. Nevertheless, she knew him to well. She knew what was coming.
Keel looked at her oddly. Then he looked at his watch. He didn't have time to argue. This was supposed to be good bye for a little while. No it was beginning to look like forever. A family wouldn't be beneficial to the journey, or more importantly the preparation. Still, he couldn't let this be known, and couldn't bring himself to eliminate the threat. He would have to leave her. Them.
But, Keel Lorenz showed no sadness. No regret. That emotion was impossible when coupled the knowledge that Keel possessed. All that appeared was a slight annoyance with the new pothole that had appeared on his road to paradise. Any feeling he had to the girl was replaced with disappointment that his one recluse from the taxation of his mission was gone.
"Very well" he said quietly. "I will send money." Although it wouldn't matter in the long run, fifteen years was still a long time to suffer. With that he dressed quietly, and left the room. All the while, the girl sat sobbing on the bed.
August, 2000
Bethlehem, West Bank
Keel Lorenz was no liar. But Abrienda had expected nothing from him, and so she had boarded a train in the freight section and ridden until she was discovered. When found, the conductor simply kicked her off at what ever town they were in at the time. This happening to be Bethlehem.
She had nowhere to go, and obviously her former line of work was out of the question, so she had simply used the last of her checks to find a small apartment, and began a meager living as a launderer at a local Laundromat business. All the while, her belly and worries grew.
Then the checks came. No letters checking up on her, or even small talk. The only print was on the front of the envelope- a crisp, white envelope with a strange marking of a triangle, seven eyes and a snake around an apple. How he had found her, she never knew. Yet one thing was certain, she wouldn't have to work anymore. She didn't quit her job though. By the time the checks began to arrive, the knowledge of abandonment had sunk in, and she had slipped into depression. So, the checks stayed piled up by the door. Only the first few envelopes were opened, the rest lay discarded haphazardly around the dingy apartment. Abrienda just wanted to have this baby, and then rest. Maybe forever.
September 12, 2000
The girl had fainted. She didn't wake up. A C-section was performed and the child, a boy, was removed without further incident. With the mother dead, and no kin to be found, the child was declared a ward of the state, and arrangements were made for the child to go to an orphanage.
As the two young interns drove in the white sedan, the passenger holding the child looked down at him. A normal child, really. He had a small, brown pudgy baby face, framed with black locks small baby feat, and small baby hands that had a fondness for grabbing things and not letting go. A bunch of common features to the region, much like his sadly common birth. He was almost completely unremarkable.
Almost.
His eyelids, snapped tight in slumber, hid two dark eyes. The color not uncommon in the region, it was the shade that was so remarkable. In reality the eyes were not brown at all.
They were black, jet black. Aniridia, very uncommon in the middle east, had afflicted this one.
But this was Bethlehem, and in the middle of an ongoing conflict, such oddities had to be put aside for a later study that would probably never come. Thus, he was given unceremoniously to the caretaker, not even a name was given, and left in the nursery section of the building.
September 13, 2000
3 hours after impact.
...reports are sketchy, it seems as though a nuclear strike has been launched at the South Pole for some reason...
...the impact has caused tsunamis and earthquakes across the southern hemisphere...
...death toll in the billions, casualties have yet to be counted...
...Antarctic treaty violated...
...Reports of a being of white light...
...United States is blaming Japan for the incident...
...Japan has been excluded from both NATO and UN talks so far...
...Breaking news, it seems that both sides were mistaken...
...Giant meteor...
Confusion. Panic. The dynamic duo of emotions that motivated some humanities biggest mistakes reigned supreme. For the next week while the orphanage staff sat glued to the television listening to reports of tsunamis, death tolls in the millions, and the human notions of killing one another that inevitably intensified when faced with a large crisis without a strong leader; the infant lay still in his crib. Aside from being fed and diapers changed, he was thoroughly neglected for the first week. As if the children could sense something was wrong, they cried unceasingly
And so the child did too. They others were disturbing his sleep. The nerve! Slowly, he began to ignore there suffering, and his crying ceased. He began to simply lie still and grab at imaginary things as babies will do. The other children, even the not-so-young ones that could possess a sentient thought continued to cry. The boy just slept.
Until the halogen light above him was poked lose by the author. It fell on him and he died.
A/N. Bet you didn't see that coming! Or maybe you did. The overwhelming Sue...ness has hit me. Either way you're probably extremely glad, relieved, pissed and won't come back to this story, or (God forbid!) disappointed that he's dead. Also it's obvious that Keel doesn't know how morning sickness works ha ha!
Even with the Sue-ness, do you think the story would be good? If you folks think that he should live tell me so in the review!
Whatever... I think I just killed my plot. Now this story's beginning to smell like death...
Read and Review Please! I'm looking still for a pre-reader too.
Most likely I'll bring Keel Jr. back and/or just delete all that stuff depending on your reviews! I intend for him to become the new villain though.