Episode 6: Questions (Rebels)
Even in dreams, the voice and words made him stiffen in place, body rigid at attention while his insides knotted with fear.
"My beloved son." Never did praise follow those words, he knew. His only reminders of the man's love came through correction. "What have you done to yourself?"
He turned to face the man with equal parts pride and dread, the awful silence that he should have filled with some brilliant rejoinder instead ringing loudly in his ears. Already he began to feel sick—it was not after all so much a dream as a memory, and his foresight of what would happen next made him want to tear his feet from their alloted positions and run far, far away from the circumstance. "Don't you like it, Papa?" he asked, his voice stretched wire-taut even to his own perception.
"Why?" asked the tall man. It was not in response to his son's question but a query of its own.
Forcing himself to keep a straight face, he replied as evenly as he could, "It came with the earrings." As he spoke, his lip throbbed; it was still tender, and made clear speech difficult, but he was determined not to mumble or sound cowed in any way. "I can't do as I like with my own body?"
"There are appearances to be considered," the man replied. "You will not earn the respect of your followers if you do not look capable of handling your responsibilities. That object interferes with your professionalism. Remove it, and let the hole close up."
"I don't want to." More eloquent expressions failed him, to his shame. "I—I like it, Papa."
"Clair. Take it off." The voice became less of a gentle command and more of an order. "Vampire must not rule by force of appearance but by action. Remove it."
His eyes dropped, his jaw loosened. "Yes." Slowly, gently, he reached up to his bottom lip and gingerly slid out the small silver ring. "Is that good?"
"The earrings as well." Two larger rings joined their companion in his palm; he closed his fingers over them reluctantly. "Remember this, my beloved son. You do not exist for yourself alone. In everything you do, you must think of the family. Report to Mauro immediately. You will be under house arrest, studying, until I decide you have learned your responsibilities properly."
"In that case I'll be holding committee meetings in the basement until I die," he drawled bitterly, face twisting in a desperate smile. "Because I'll never learn enough for you. Papa, I'm..." He turned around, bowed his black head. "You think I'm no good, don't you?" Hands shaking, he waited for the dissuasion he thought—hoped?--was certain to come.
But the man remained silent, and in the silence, he knew. Trying to sigh casually, he moved his hand like he was wiping his mouth but instead slid the ring back into place. He had no intention of following the directions of a man who couldn't respect him. "Then I guess I'd better get to work."
He rolled over, pulling the covers with him, and drew his legs up closer to his torso. Both pillows had fallen to the floor during the course of the night; he rested his head on his crossed arms and moaned softly, still dreaming.
Another day, not long after. Another place, but the same uncomfortable company. The ring cupped his lip like it had since the day he'd persuaded Giovanni to take him to the parlor. Such trips had already become a thing of the past, and his bodyguard count had tripled. One of the new men, a college graduate named Ian, he could already tell would prove to be a valuable asset in the future. What with that mind...he himself would never have to trouble himself with boring details again. The other man, though...seemed a little flighty.
No, no, he had to focus on the man before him, not the men waiting just outside the door. The man who was slowly drawing the knife, cutting...he watched as the blood splashed, drop by drop, into the goblet and accepted the glass. Tipping his head back slightly, he forced himself not to look and sipped.
He couldn't taste the blood, just the boldness of the wine, but held the sip in his mouth all the same. He wouldn't accept being dominated the way he had his entire childhood. He was eighteen and a man now. And he wanted the right to make his own decisions, even if no one in the world would ever know they had been made. To be certain, he wanted the succession of the title, but he would do with it as he chose.
He couldn't fool his father, though. "Swallow." Tipping his head forward so the mouthful of liquid sloshed against his teeth, he did as the man commanded. The flavor had begun to diffuse, and he fancied he could taste the blood now, rust on his tongue making him shiver.
"All the way." Shutting his eyes, he obeyed, if only to get that horrible tang off his palate. But the aura of the blood lingered, staining his mouth, and he licked his lips.
"You see how simple it is? It is not such a bitter pill, my beloved son. Learn to serve now so that you will rule better when the time comes. Curb the impulsive behavior that threatens to ruin years of our hard work. Above all, do not resent your fate, for it is a glorious one."
"I don't, Papa," he whispered, and he meant it. No, it was not fate he resented.
The blankets now covered his head as well; his limbs huddled even closer together. A shadow slipped from the adjacent bedroom into his, stopping momentarily to replace one of the fallen pillows gently before stepping into the hallway. Headrest reclaimed, he burrowed deep into it.
His father was an old man, but he had never realized it until this moment; nor had he fully understood the helplessness such age conveyed. Though still crowned with dignity, his father's form seemed to shrivel in the dim light of his sickroom. For a moment, he was ashamed of himself: this was the creature who had kept him cowed all his life?
"Hey, Papa. It's me. Are you feeling better today?" He laughed nervously, unsure of what to say to a man who might not even be listening.
The silence of the room pressed down on him; he tried to fill the hole. "I finished the book on stocks. Sounds simple enough; I might play with that a bit later. Shogun called to see how you were doing, the hypocrite. You filled his power vacuum and he claims to be concerned anyway? What an idiot." What was he saying? The man wouldn't care about any of that. He would only care about...
"My...beloved son." Here it came. Wasted hands took his own; had those same hands really once hit him with such force? "Did I not warn you about...changing your appearance?"
"What, this?" He fingered the feathery bangs, now dyed cornflower blue. "I wanted to be pretty for you, Papa. I'm wearing my best jewelry, too. Don't you like it?" His broad smile showed off the lip ring.
"Be careful about...taunting your subordinates, Clair. Vampire is king, but kings can be overthrown. Exercise caution."
He laughed hollowly, without smiling. "I'll make you proud, don't worry. Everyone will have to admit the strength of Company Vita once I'm through. I'll keep the board happy. I'll work hard. You'll see."
"Such overconfidence is not an asset."
"Damn it, old man!" He yanked his hand free, no longer able to even laugh off the slight. "I make you a promise and you still aren't satisfied? What do you want me to do?"
"You know...what I expect of you."
His shoulders shook. "Yes," he hissed, "I know. But I can't do it. I'd be anything for you, anyone, except for one person. You." His voice twisted with bitterness; he spat the words instead of saying them. "And that's who you want me to be, isn't it? You don't like me because I'm not you.
"But I won't be you." He smiled, at last able to offer something amid the venom of the past year that would make his father happy. "No, I'll be better than you. That's the only promise I'll make. Is that good enough, Papa?" He waited for a reply, but the man who lectured incessantly when his son wanted quiet would not now speak. "Is it?" Still nothing.
Unable to stand having the truth hanging unspoken, he replied for the silent man. "No. It's not. Because it never is." He buried his face in his hands, ashamed of he knew not what. Losing his control? Letting himself be trapped by this wasted, ruined, weak old man? Or was it only his own inadequacy in the face of expectations he both strove for and hated?
"My...beloved son. You shame the family."
He sniffed, standing. "Go to hell, old man." Scowling, he stalked out of the room.
When he returned the next morning, his father was dead.
O0o0o0o0o0o0
He woke with unintelligible speech on his lips, heaving and panting feverishly. Delirium danced like candlelight in his violet eyes, but as he drew conscious, shuddering breaths it too wasted away until finally it died. Why tonight, of all nights? Certainly not because he'd let himself be ordered around by that child; her bossiness amused him and so he played along with the game. He hadn't, to his knowledge, lost ground to that damn Aurora either. So why those days, those memories?
Combing his still-dual-colored hair with damp fingers, Clair giggled to himself as his body fell under his own control once more. "You can't beat me, Papa," he hissed spitefully. "I'll show you. Wait and see. Company Vita will expand further than even you ever dreamed. And I'll be the one who made it happen." The idea had occurred to him that day, as the other members of his crew began to worry about the particulars of the rescue mission. It fell, logically, that if they were to enter Magnagalia illegally and in the company of wanted men then their search should begin in a suitable locale: namely, the realm of Magnagalia's enormous underworld syndicate. From there they could gather information about the state of the city until J's telemeter pinpointed Daisuke's location. And then they could make a more concrete plan.
Clair personally thought most of the "wait-and-see" mentality was total bunk on Shun Aurora's part as a cover for the man's cowardice, but disagreeing on intentions did not preclude his approving certain aspects of the idea. In particular, maneuvering within underworld circles appealed to him; it was the world in which he had been raised and on top of which, at least in Judoh, he thrived. Should he find the opportunity to strike a few deals if they ran afoul of Magnagalian officials...it would seem that Vita would indebt itself to the syndicate, but slowly the syndicate would come to bow to Vita. All he needed was patience and a chance. Nonintervention treaties signed by dead politicians held no special meaning for Clair Leonelli. Aside from the possible difficulty of maintaining communication, he saw no problems in operating a multi-city empire. Fear was fear and respect was respect no matter where on the globe you sailed.
The boat hit a particularly large wave. Ugh, whose idea had sailing been, anyway? He filed away a mental memo to have one of Vita's choppers painted something more inconspicuous than red for future stealthy maneuvering.
Anyway, there was no use in trying to sleep immediately after a fit like that; he felt certain the dreams would return again and was eager for such experiences to stay buried. Sliding his feet into his shoes as he stood, Clair stretched and headed up to the deck, giving Giovanni's adjacent room a cursory glance. Everything within was still; the bed seemed strangely flat. Couldn't the bodyguard sleep, either? That was good. He would have someone to talk to, if Giovanni were already up. Had the man remained asleep, in fact, the don might have woken him up anyway for company.
"...but if they've cut the power already I don't know how we're going to get in safely. The last thing they'll need is more bodies in their city, consuming what's left of the water and breathing what's left of the clean air." Damn. Dictator Aurora apparently didn't find the gentle rocking of the waves conducive to slumber either. "They likely won't be running full patrol squads, though, so we may stand a chance anyway."
"Yeah," Giovanni grunted; Clair slipped out of the door and crouched in the shadows the cabin area cast on the deck of the boat to watch. He'd announce his presence when he felt like it, not before. "We could also try going in with all guns blazing, of course. Liven up the place a bit."
Shun's head jerked dangerously; Giovanni laughed. "That was a joke, mister. No matter how much Vampire may want to use those carts of fireworks, I prefer my head without fur, thank you very much."
"You honestly think they're going to bother changing the prisoners after losing the high-end systems?"
"Man, can you not take a joke."
Shun was silent for a moment, his face reflective in the moonlight. "We've met before, haven't we?" he asked quietly; Clair sucked in a breath. The man had almost killed Giovanni and he couldn't even bother to remember a face? Though guilty of many crimes, Vampire of Company Vita had to one crucial element of humanity remained true: he had always considered the people around him as people, not just game pieces. Yes, he used and threatened and sometimes even killed, but he did so with the full understanding that he was dealing with living, thinking (though some gave him cause to doubt the latter) human beings. "My beloved son, respect those whose services you wish to win and they will be yours." Something like that. This consideration had made his respect for the human race in general plummet, however. Dealing with them in groups, they were hard to combat. Dealing with them individually, seeing the way they perceived themselves...they were all such idiots. And Shun Aurora was no exception.
Giovanni, still laughing, slid on his sunglasses despite the darkness of the open ocean. "Ah, you could say that. More briefly than I wanted to at the time, let me tell you." Scratching his head, he gave Shun a cocky grin. "I had less hair then."
"Yes," agreed Shun, apparently remembering. "You did." He returned to staring off into the distance. "It's strange, the paths people take. Those who should have nothing in common find themselves sharing a goal."
"You don't worry I might not have taken 'no' as an answer to killing you?" Giovanni slid a hand into his jacket like he was going for his gun, and Clair choked back a laugh. The bodyguard nodded in his direction, and he realized Giovanni was putting on the whole show just for him. He nodded back.
"It's possible, but hardly a valid qualifier for your presence. You did not know until arriving at the port that I would be coming along." So he didn't scare easily. It didn't surprise Clair. The tough ones were more fun, anyway. Where was the amusement in making mice scurry?
"Good evening, Shun and Giovanni." J, leaving the control room, approached the pair stiffly; Clair sucked in a breath and froze. What would his presence, suddenly discovered by the observant android, look like to Shun? He didn't care what the man thought of him, but a marginal trust at least had to be founded were they to accomplish anything. The fact that every time he talked to Shun he ended up goading and taunting in a most uncooperative fashion was entirely the other man's fault.
"Hey, old man," Giovanni repliedcasually. Shun refrained from addressing the machine. "What's going on?"
"All systems are operating at fullest capacity. We should arrive in Magnagalia after one more night." The android paused, processing something. "And unexpected movement has occurred towards the stern."
Both men's heads swerved, their eyes locked on Clair; the young man stood up calmly, though his heart was pounding. "Hey," he greeted them. "Don't mind me."
"What were you--"
J interrupted Shun's outburst. "I did not mean him. There is someone else on board."
Shun stepped backwards, eyes wary; Giovanni drew his gun from his coat and moved to cover Clair while the boy backed towards him. "Get below deck, Vampire," the bodyguard breathed as their paths crossed. "Now."
"What's going--"
"Get DOWN!" Flinging himself over Clair and dragging him to the ground, Giovanni let off two shots at something that had just darted into view. Clair felt his head crack against the deck, saw stars for a moment, then coughed: Giovanni's weight on his slender frame bore down heavily. He couldn't breathe. Stifling, he pushed up on the man's body and demanded in no uncertain terms to perhaps be protected a little less thoroughly.
To his immense surprise, the entire weight lifted. "Dammit, werewolf," Giovanni sighed reproachfully, standing and putting away his weapon. "Scared me half to death."
Stepping into full moonlight, the tall muscular man blinked slowly and replied. "I had to remain hidden. I was not invited."
"Hey, Boma," Clair greeted him from the deck, rolling over and standing. Now that his life was no longer presumably threatened, the situation became near-hysterical. Why hadn't anyone considered this before? Of course the wolf-man would have come along. They were going back to his hometown, after all, so he would be useful. And Daisuke...Boma had some odd loyalty fixation about Daisuke. Clair should have figured it out sooner.
"Now I see," J reported as Boma walked over to join the group proper, causing Shun to back even further away. "My sensors were not faulty when they reported human movement and heat in the office. I must tell Antonia not to worry."
"I don't see why this is so amusing to all of you," Shun remarked angrily. "He is not here on invitation!"
"Neither are we, mister," Giovanni grinned. "And haven't we come in handy?" Shun muttered something under his breath but made no formal reply.
"That's what I hate about you," Clair told Shun, smiling just to get on the man's nerves even more. "You don't consider all your options." My beloved son, be open-minded to the movements of both your enemies and your friends. Then you shall never be off-guard and vulnerable. My beloved son, follow the path I have laid out for you. "People who only see the ideas they came up with themselves really make me throw up. Welcome aboard, Boma."
o0o0o0o0o0o0
Phia opened the door expecting to see one man and found another. "Inspector," she greeted the man courteously, recognizing both the face and the badge he displayed. "How may I help you?"
"Where's Shun Aurora?" Edmundo didn't like mincing words. He didn't like asking questions he knew the answers too, either, but his job was his job even if every minute he squandered with the tiny details bought the very people he sought more time. Ironically, the system was working in his favor this day. "Did you help him run away?"
"I woke up yesterday morning and he was gone."
"You didn't report it. We had to get the news from the place he's working at. I have a warrant for your arrest as a conspirator."
"Detective Edmundo, I can't say I--"
"But." Edmundo sidled his way into the apartment and shut the door behind him, sighing. He couldn't believe he was about to say the words on the tip of his tongue. "I'm going to overlook that if you help me with something else. What did you agree on with the Special Unit?"
"I beg your pardon?"
She was determined not to make this easy for him, wasn't she? He sighed again. If it hadn't been for that promise Christina had forced him to make... "Monica was here," he said heavily. "Am I right?" Lips drawn taut, Phia nodded after a moment's consideration. "She wanted to save Daisuke and thought Shun could help." Phia nodded again.
"Man, I can't believe this..." He let what little professional demeanor he possessed break, sitting on Phia's couch. "Tell me everything you know. I'm...damn it, I'm helping them get away."
"There's nothing more to tell." She didn't believe him. And she was lying. "Please, go."
"Miss Oliveira..."
"Phia."
"Phia," he repeated blockily, uncomfortable with calling a near-stranger woman by her first name, especially when he didn't know why she'd insisted. "The kid's my...I'm looking after the kid. You think I want the city to know she helped Shun Aurora? I've got my own interests, damn them, just like you've got yours."
"Mine cannot be solved by the police," Phia responded firmly. "Please."
Edmundo swore to himself, less out of anger and more out of tired frustration. "Look, the longer this takes for me, the better. I have all day to sit here and wait until you tell me everything. Officially, I'm questioning the witness, but I really...oh, here." He handed her a folded sheet of paper. "She left this." He waited while the woman scanned Monica's letter. "What do you make of that?"
She looked up. "Only that she's concerned, and that she's put a lot of confidence in you. No one who distrusts gives that much detail in anything."
He got the hint but pretended not to. "What did they plan on doing?" he pressed. "Who all did they take?"
"Inspector Edmundo." She inclined her head in a faint hint that he should stand, which he ignored. "I understand your concern but cannot help you. Should you return tomorrow, I will be more than happy to come with you. Arrest me if you must, but I beg you, not today. I am expecting company from...out of town. You have caught me at a bad time."
"I have, eh? All the more reason to stick around. Your guests might know something."
Her gamble had backfired. He could read it all across her face. For some reason, there was nothing so pitiful in his mind than a grown woman trying not to cry, and the look in Phia's eyes alone nearly made him get up and leave in shame and embarrassment. But another woman earlier had grabbed his arm, fighting back tears as she pleaded with him to protect her daughter; and since he had buckled to her he could not now have sympathy for this one. Phia Oliveira was hiding something, and as long as that something remained hidden he could not come up with a proper plan to save Monica from the repercussions of her actions. No judge would look kindly on anyone, even a child, who'd helped Shun Aurora.
He tried switching tactics. "Look, to help Monica I'm going to have to also help Shun, much as I hate the bastard." She bit her lip, and he realized tacking on his personal opinion had been very, very stupid. "So if you don't want him to get in too much trouble either, going along with me is your best bet."
"Please. Leave." Her low voice choked. "Can't you give him his chance?"
"What chance?" Edmundo sighed, but a knock on the door interrupted him. Phia jumped noticeably but did not open it. "Go ahead," he told her. "Let them in. Don't mind me."
She stared from him to the door, uncertain. Heaving his heaviest sigh of the morning, Edmundo lifted himself from the sofa and placed his hand on the doorknob, turned it...
A clicking sound behind him made his head turn. "Don't," Phia begged, the hand with which she held her gun to his head wavering slightly. "You don't want to. Trust me, please. For Monica's sake, do not open that door."
"You are definitely arrested, lady," Edmundo groused, nudging the door open wide with his foot. No shot rang out, but another gun appeared.
"Beetle..." Mauro, too, was shaking as he pointed his weapon. "You betrayed us?"
o0o0o0o0o0o0
"You have Nona's eyes," the Celestial with the Judoh accent named Leorza commented, appraising Daisuke with scrutinizing, penetrating eyes. "Had they shown your picture or given your name, you would not have been rejected as barter, I think."
"Makes you wonder, then, why they didn't," Daisuke remarked, smiling at the man but wracking his brain for another name to put to the face. He hadn't seen it recently, but he definitely recognized it. Who? "Any ideas?"
The man returned Daisuke's smile minus the good humor. "Several. Trinity can be most mercurial at times. She is never content to play one side when several are at her disposal. It makes my life rather difficult."
"Sorry, don't know the name." He shot a look around the hallway, hoped they wouldn't be discovered by any Celestials before he got at least a little more information. "I'm stupid like that."
"She calls herself Baroness." The smile had vanished, but now genuine amusement danced in his eyes. "The latest and, in her mind, greatest heir to the rulership of Magnagalia's crime syndicate."
"Judoh has Vampire; Magnagalia has a baroness."
The man flinched briefly. "Indeed." Realizing his own reaction, his shoulders sagged slightly. "You do not need to drop hints with me. Yes, I am from your city."
"Yeah, the way you talk gives you away. What's up? Didn't you like Judoh?" Daisuke shrugged ruefully. "We do our best to please, but some people...well, you know."
"My options in Judoh exhausted themselves, but on a whole I look forward to returning someday. But the topic of this brief intercourse must be you. You are Daisuke Aurora of the City Safety Management Agency Special Unit, are you not?"
"If I've got Nona's eyes, I must be," Daisuke pointed out. "Otherwise I'm Shun, and I haven't got the hair for that." Behind Leorza, Usagi's eyes fluttered shut and her chest relaxed; Daisuke tensed.
"Do not toy with me, as I said. I have been asked to determine if you are fit for certain activities; if you are, you are to accompany Usagi and if not, I will freely allow you to reenter the conference with me and you may make your case to the Celestials."
"Sounds like you were doing a decent job yourself."
Leorza ignored him. "What made you qualified to partner with your machine?"
Well, that was unexpected; Daisuke's mind, off-guard, had to swerve to get back on the track of the conversation. "Who, J? Aw, I don't know. How well we clicked, I guess. We complement each other. He's a stuffy know-it-all; I go with the flow. That kind of thing."
"So chemistry can exist between machines and men?"
"If it's programmed that way. A machine with sophisticated enough AI responds to things like a person would. You leave Judoh after the android ban or something?" But then he wouldn't recognize that face...
"That is sufficient. I am not certain whether to tell you if you passed or failed, Daisuke Aurora. Usagi, hand him over to Trinity to test this 'chemistry.'"
"Yes, sir." She grabbed Daisuke's arm, eyes glassy with sleep. "Come."
"What the--" Her knives crossed over his neck. "Um, okay. Nice meeting you, Leorza."
"The same to you, Daisuke Aurora. And should you ever find your way back to Judoh, which I currently doubt..."
"Yeah?"
The Celestial smiled again, his white mustache curving upwards as well, and dared to show his cards. "Tell my son to stop shaming his family."