It had been a long time since he'd been to L-1. Thinking back, he couldn't remember Odin ever taking him, although he was fairly sure they'd gone once or twice. The boy sat on a plastic chair and stared around the crowded spaceport as he waited for his contact. He kicked his feet and idly watched a couple sitting across the way. They were having a heated argument in Japanese. The language was strange. He couldn't remember having spoken it before, but if he listened hard enough, he could almost understand what they were saying. Someone was approaching close to his other side; the boy turned his head and saw what was undeniably his contact. The scientist smiled and waved broadly.
"Hello, kodomo. Nice flight?"
"I thought you were still on L-3," the boy said as they started across the terminal.
"Well, I was, but I had to finish up a few things. And since I was here, sensei told me to come get you. Easier to trust someone you know, right?"
The boy nodded. Besides the fact that his original contact would have drawn far too much attention to himself. Although Howell wasn't much better. It wasn't just that Howell was blond where most everyone else was dark haired, but he walked in a loose, easy way and chatted loudly about trivial little things. The boy listened halfheartedly to him, keeping most of his concentration on his surroundings. As they exited the terminal, the boy's gaze was drawn upward and what he saw made him smile. Clouds drifted serenely through the air, fluffy and white. Beside him, Howell sighed.
"Ridiculous things, aren't they? They really are pretty useless. People just want to see them because it reminds them of earth. They just want something to comfort them."
"There's nothing wrong with being comforted," the boy murmured. Howell laughed.
"I suppose not. But it's a little surprising to hear that coming from you."
"Hn…" the boy said, for lack of anything better. What did Howell mean by that exactly? They walked in relative silence for two blocks, heading in an eastern direction from the spaceport. Then they got in a cab, Howell ordering the driver to go the Kimaji Bath House. Howell began to speak to the driver in Japanese. Even though the tone of their voices indicated casual conversation, the boy couldn't help but feel a little edgy. Though Howell had treated him well in the base, he wasn't yet in the trusted category. The scientist was too unpredictable and always seemed to have an agenda of his own. Again, though, the boy found if he listened hard enough, he could almost understand what they were talking about.
Even though it made him nervous not to know, it was aggravating to almost know. He turned his gaze out the window, trying to tune the conversation out. After about twenty minutes, the cab stopped. Howell tossed some bills into the front seat and ducked out. The boy followed him. They walked past a huge, lavishly decorated building, then turned onto a street obviously reserved for the wealthy. A couple of blocks later they were in front of what looked like a small spaceport.
"It's bigger then it looks," Howell said with a grin. The boy glared up at him. Was it really necessary to tell the whole world? They went through the iron gates and around the small building to a plain wooden door in the west entrance. Two men were guarding it. They seemed to be trying to look casual, but anyone could see how they tensed up when he and Howell arrived. Also the way their hands drifted toward the slight bulges in their jackets. With a start, the boy realized he did the same thing. Whenever he was startled, his first instinct was to reach for his gun. He would have to stop that. It was one thing to always be ready, but another to show your enemies how ready you were.
"What do you have there?" asked one of the men, letting his hand drop back to his side.
"Oh, just a little present from Dr. J," Howell said brightly. The men stared at him surprised for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"What him?" said the second man.
"J really must be getting senile," said the first one. "To let a kid like him be a candidate" The boy kept his gaze centered on the door, even though the man's words surprised him. What did he mean candidate? Were their others competing for Wing?
"Don't mind them," Howell said, leading him through the door and down a long metal corridor. "They're idiots."
"How many others like me are there?" he asked. Howell chuckled.
"Perceptive, aren't you?" he said, but that was it. The boy hadn't really expected him to answer. He narrowed his eyes. Well, it didn't matter. The boy would prove that he was better then all of them… no matter what he had to do.
Not two halls later, they entered a hangar and there it was. The boy paused in the doorway, staring at it. So…this was Wing. It wasn't all there. The head, the torso and the right arm being the only things attached. A few mechanics were perched on the mechanical body, talking in loud voices to one another.
"What do you think?" Howell asked, making a grand sweeping gesture. The boy shrugged lightly. He honestly wasn't sure what to think. He walked further into the hangar, craning his head up as he came closer. The mobile suit seemed to stare down at him.
"Ready to test the arm hydraulics!" one of the mechanics called.
"Anti-grav boosters all clear?" asked another. The first one leapt down and leaned over a consol. The boy came closer, peering around the scientists shoulder to see what he was doing.
"What do you need anti-grav boosters for?" the boy asked as the man began to flick a series of switches. The mechanic jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to look down at him.
"W…well the arm is too heavy for any normal person to lift so we have to make it weightless so we can test the movement."
Someone was coming up behind him. The boy turned his head slightly, trying to see if he could hear what kind of person it was. It seemed…two people, one that walked with a cane. By the casual sound of their footsteps they didn't seem to be a threat.
"Who are you anyway?" the mechanic asked.
"Let me test it," the boy said, turning his attention back to the mechanic. The man blinked.
"Wh…what?!"
"Let me test the arm," the boy repeated patiently. "I'll figure out how to work it."
"Look, kid-"
"Let him, Fujita," said one of the men behind him. The boy recognized the voice.
"Uuuh, all right…"
The boy started for the mobile suit even before the, man had agreed. He climbed the ladder up to the cockpit and glared at the other mechanic until the man moved and jumped to the ground. Hmm. That was a good eight feet. He'd have to learn to do that. He sat down and wrapped his hand around the control lever. The machine hummed around him, vibrating softly. The boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It smelled like leather and oil and other things that he couldn't identify. Yes. This would be his. There was a soft whine and the vibration changed slightly.
"Anti-grav boosters all checked out. Ready when you are, kid."
"Confirmed," the boy said, opening his eyes. "Commencing test." He tightened his fingers around the lever and pulled back, the arm moved smoothly up. Clenching and unclenching his fingers around the grip made the mobile suit's hand do the same. He experimented a bit, discovering if he moved his whole arm instead of just his hand, there was less of a strain on his wrist. After a while whine of the boosters took on a higher pitch. They were probably starting to overheat. The boy eased the arm slowly down.
"Test complete. Deactivate the boosters."
The mechanic's acknowledgement was heavy with sarcasm. Hmmph. No matter what he did, they would still only think him as a kid. Well- It didn't matter. He would prove his worth. The boy went to the edge of the cockpit, hesitating a moment before jumping to the ground. He landed in a half-crouch, hands slapped forward to keep his balance and one knee smacking painfully against the metal floor. Definitely not good enough. Rising stiffly to his feet, he went over to the pair of mechanics who looked like they were trying to stifle their laughter. The strange old man who'd been his first contact was standing a bit behind them, with another man at his side that the boy didn't recognize. The boy acknowledged them with a nod and turned toward the mechanics.
"The arm catches if you move it too far to the right and then the fingers won't close all the way," the boy said. That only increased their amusement for some reason.
"Thinks he knows what he's talking about," said the first one with a laugh. "Sounds like my nephew. Would calmly state the moon was made of cheese if he had the chance."
"I don't know. I think he might be on to something," said the other mechanic with a mocking smile. He went to one knee and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "And what do you think the problem is, son?" The other mechanic broke into loud laughter.
"The problem is that the ball joint in the shoulder keeps cutting off the fuel line," the boy said, brushing the man's hand off him. "You either need to make a secondary fuel line, or run the first one through the ball joint." He noted with a small smirk that the mechanics had stopped laughing. "There might be an easier way, but I haven't had a good look at the blueprints yet."
"You continue to surprise me, boy," said the strange old scientist. The boy looked up at him and came a few steps closer.
"You're Dr. J," the boy said. The man nodded.
"I am. And this is Dr. Mitsuyo," he said, gesturing his robotic claw at the man standing beside him. Mitsuyo was a thin man with a pointed nose and small watery eyes set behind thick glasses. The younger scientist looked down at him, then turned to Dr. J.
"Don't tell me that this is what you bought me here for, J," the man snapped.
"Well, you did suggest I make a contribution to your little training program," the doctor said.
"What's he going to be? The janitor?" Mitsuyo asked, directing a scowl down at the boy. "Or maybe the station cook?"
"I think you know better then that," Dr. J said calmly. "The boy could prove quite a capable pilot." Mitsuyo clenched his hands into fists.
"How dare you insult me by saying this child will be better then the candidates I've spent years conditioning?" The scientist suddenly smiled and straightened. "I think you know what will happen if I complain to certain authorities."
Dr. J smirked, seemingly completely unperturbed at the man's words.
"Nevertheless, the Gundam is my creation and I'm allowed some say in who I would like to pilot it."
"He won't last a week," said Mitsuyo darkly. The boy met Dr. J's strange gaze as it was turned on him. It was hard to guess what the old scientist might be thinking.
"I have every confidence in him. Besides, it will be Wing who truly decides."
The boy cocked his head. That was a strange thing to say. How could a mobile suit choose its pilot? Mitsuyo seemed to understand. The young scientist grunted and turned on his heel, feet clanking against the floor as he strode quickly away. After a final glance at Wing, the boy followed him.
One thing was for sure. Mitsuyo would definitely need to be watched carefully. Once the boy was under this doctor's care, he knew there would be no help for him. But that was all right. The boy didn't need help. It was time to learn to survive on his own.
"You know I won't go easy on you just because you're a kid," Mitsuyo said, turning his head slightly to look back at him. The boy didn't have any response to this. "You can back out now if you want. Just say the word and I'll have you on a shuttle home, first class."
"Don't talk to me like I don't know what I'm doing."
"You're intelligent, I'll give you that. But let's see if you can survive hell."
---
The personal shuttle stopped with a small jerk. This was a small satellite, just half an hour away from the main colony. The boy wondered what kind of training he had to go through that would require a satellite to do it on.
Mitsuyo stood from where he was sitting behind the pilot. The boy followed him wordlessly through the airlock. Another boy of about seventeen or so was leaning against the wall just inside the airlock, straightening as they came closer.
"Tatsu," the scientist said with a nod.
"Mitsuyo-sensei! Boku wa…" Tatsu trailed off as he finally seemed to notice the boy. He glanced down from the boy to the doctor again, a questioning look on his face. Mitsuyo waved a casual hand.
"Ah, this is Dr. J's idea of a candidate."
Tatsu stared a moment, then laughed and said something in Japanese. The scientist responded in kind, making the teenager laugh again. They were talking about him. He knew they were… but he didn't understand. They would definitely use that against him. Since he couldn't understand Tatsu's words, he studied the teenager's body, trying to get a feel for his abilities. There was no doubt in the boy's mind that Tatsu was one of the pilots. He was a lean, but had well defined muscles in his arms and legs.
The conversation seemed to switch gears then, because now it was Mitsuyo doing most of the talking. The teenager folded his arms, shifted his weight to one foot and began to absently kick the wall behind him with the other. Tatsu suddenly glared down at him, the boy met his dark, angry gaze, unflinchingly. Whether Tatsu had caught him staring or Mitsuyo had said something him that Tatsu didn't like, the boy didn't know. In any case, the boy wouldn't be able to find out much of anything about Tatsu now. He would have to go watch him in training some time.
He glanced away. The bulky metal door that lead out of the airlock stood open, revealing a short hall with a smaller metal door at the end. Although he wasn't sure about having Mitsuyo or Tatsu behind him, it might prove an advantage if he saw what he was heading into first. Moving past the teenager, he went at a steady pace through the hall, but remained alert to what was going on behind him. He reached the adjacent door and turned the handle
"I wouldn't!" Tatsu called in heavily accented English. The boy pushed through without hesitation. It felt like something hit him. Like a giant fist had punched him in the back and sent him slamming to the floor on hands and knees. At first he couldn't breathe, but when he finally managed to inhale, it felt like something was trying to crush his lungs. The boy quickly ran through the possibilities. There was no way a human could be doing this to him. Poison maybe? But Mitsuyo didn't consider him that much of a threat…did he?
There was a laugh behind him and the black and red athletic shoes that Tatsu wore appeared in his line of vision.
"Little baby, go home," the teenager said. "This place isn't for you…unless you want to die." Laughing again, Tatsu walked away. The boy could feel the doctor coming up beside him, he pushed himself up the best he could, but it felt like heavy weights were attached all over his body. Still, he managed to sit back on his legs and look the scientist in the face. Mitsuyo was smirking, arms folded lightly over his chest.
"Did you know that the gravity here is twelve times greater then what is normally used on the colonies? I must have forgotten to mention it earlier." He moved his shoulders in a dismissive gesture, then jerked his head to the left. "Your room is 887, down that way. If you're not in it in two hours, you're leaving." Then the scientist walked away. The boy waited until he was gone from sight until he slapped a hand against the wall and slowly got to his feet.
Just the very act of walking required all his concentration. With every step, gravity threatened to suck him back down again. It was hot here, too, and it didn't take long until sweat ran in long tickling trails down his face. It was almost like operating the leo again. The realization caused the boy to stumble. Of course! This was a form of strength training.
This solved, the boy pressed determinedly on, stopping only to peer up at the number on a nearby door. 493. Sighing softly, the boy continued. For a long time, there was nothing but a long, slightly curving corridor, and the harsh sound of his breath that seemed to echo off the walls and surround him. At around the 620's, a pair of lab coated men walked past. They gave him a curious look, and conversed vigorously with each other in Japanese for a moment, but didn't try to stop him. The next time he looked up, it was 742. Suddenly there was a muted hissing and someone stepped out directly in front of him. The boy stepped back, startled, lost his balance and fell hard.
The person turned out to be a girl who seemed just as startled as him. She too was a teenager, but looked a bit younger then Tatsu. Although it was hot, she wore a blue sweatshirt and heavy jeans. The clothes hid most of her, but couldn't cover the easy grace she used when she reached out a hand to the boy to help him up. He stood on his own, straightening but still leaning heavily on the wall. She retracted her hand and gave him an unreadable look.
"Hana-chan," called a male voice from inside the room. "Daijoubu ka?"
"Hai," she said, turning her attention to whomever was in the room. A young man poked his head around the doorframe. His skin had a fever like paleness and there were dark circles under his eyes. Hana stepped to the side to give him room and he stepped out to look at the boy fully. The boy scrutinized him in turn. He honestly wasn't sure what to think. This man was as well muscled as Tatsu and stood in a balanced, easy way. But the hand that was hanging loosely by his side was trembling slightly and every few seconds, his fingers twitched. It didn't seem like he could control it. The man caught him watching and a thin smile twisted his face. He lifted his arm, rolled back his sleeve and showed the boy a red puncture mark where a needle had buried into the skin.
"The penalties of being first," he said. He stared at the needle mark himself a moment, the side of his lip twitching in a bitter smile, then shook his sleeve down again. The man leaned against the doorframe casually, crossing one ankle over the other.
"So, you must be the new candidate." He raised an eyebrow. "A bit younger then I would have expected. Do you have a name to go with that dour look?"
"No."
"Hm. Probably better that way. They call me Domo. This is Hana," he said with a vague wave. The girl bowed slightly.
"Konnichiwa."
"She doesn't speak much English." Domo cocked his head. "And apparently you don't speak Japanese, considering the utterly idiotic look you were wearing in the airlock."
The boy narrowed his eyes, unconsciously stepping back with one foot to get better balance. How did he know that? Had he been hiding in the airlock somehow? Or perhaps he had access to some sort of surveillance system. Domo laughed. A short, bitter sound that that reminded the boy all to well of Odin.
"That idiot Tatsu underestimated you, I think. But not too much. I suppose you wouldn't like help to your room."
The boy didn't bother to answer and the man nodded.
"I thought not. But, please, allow me to escort you. If you'll just be so kind as to wait a minute." He then said something to Hana who nodded and disappeared back inside the room.
The boy stayed where he was. Domo would walk with him whether he wanted to or not and he'd rather not have the man behind him. He couldn't be sure if Domo wanted to help or hurt him. He wasn't sure of Domo at all…and that made Domo ten times as dangerous. He was all too conscious of the warm metal of the gun hidden in his tank top. It pressed against his belly almost like a comfort. If Domo tried anything-
"I wouldn't." The man casually shifted position and let his hands swing free. "Even as weak as I am, I'm still faster then you are."
The boy clenched his teeth. How did the man know? Suddenly he realized he'd been reaching for the gun unconsciously. The boy clenched his hand into a fist. Damnit.
"Besides, that wouldn't be a very nice way to start our new friendship."
"Friendship?" the boy asked cynically.
"Mm," Domo said, still wearing that twisted smile. Then Hana came out, a large cloth bag hanging diagonally from her shoulders.
"Domo-sempai…" she said, pulling back her sleeve. The boy saw the glitter of a watch before he waved her away.
"Wakarimasu." Then he turned to the boy and gestured broadly. "Shall we?"
Although the boy still didn't trust Domo, he was glad the man walked patiently with him, just a few paces in the lead. There was just enough distance between them to make the boy lunging for him impossibility… At least in this gravity. Hana walked in step beside Domo, alternately glancing at her watch and offering the boy a nervous smile. Nothing was said until they reached the boy's room.
There was a security panel next the door. The boy hoped it was to keep people out rather then in. Domo spoke to Hana briefly and she went up to it and began tapping the buttons in a practiced way.
"The doctor likes to keep tabs on his people, so he locks the rooms that aren't monitored," Domo said, folding his arms and leaning on the wall beside her. The boy cocked his head.
"Wouldn't mine be monitored?"
"I'm sure. But Hana is bypassing the security code so you'll be able to lock your own room and no one can lock you in." Domo tossed his hair from his eyes. "You can reset the code later, because I'm sure you don't want me to know it."
There was a muffled beep and the door swooshed open. Domo swept in first, slumping down on the narrow bed that was directly opposite the door. Hana followed and disappeared from the door way. The boy made his way across the hall and when he got to the entrance, saw that she had pulled a panel from the wall and was beginning to sort through a jumble of wires.
"Come in," Domo said with a wave. "Stay a while." The boy did so and was startled into stopping. For a dizzying moment, it felt like his feet weren't even touching the floor.
"Wonderful thing, lower gravity," Domo said. "It gives you a high. Almost like a drug." The way he said drug was a little strange. The boy logged that in the back of his mind for further consideration and took in the room. There wasn't much. A bed, built directly into the wall. To his right was a low gray chair with a wide, circular seat and curving back. On the other side were a small dresser and a door that opened inward to a tiny bathroom. The boy sat cross legged in the chair so he could keep both well within his vision. Hana had pulled a laptop out of the cloth bag and had plugged one of the wires into it.
"She's changing the climate controls of the room," Domo explained. "The gravity and temperature will increase a few degrees every day so you can get accustomed to it. I suggest that you stay in here until you areused to it so Mitsuyo doesn't have a reason to ship you back." The boy blinked, a little taken aback. So…he wasn't working for Mitsuyo… Or so he claimed. But that left an even bigger question.
"Why are you helping me?" the boy asked, giving Domo a hard look. The man had grown considerably paler and his head began to twitch slightly. He grinned at the boy, but it seemed more forced.
"What are you doing here?" Domo countered, his expression darkening abruptly. "Is it because you have nowhere else to go? Is it because J picked you randomly off the street and promised you a better life? If that's the case then get the hell out. If you don't, I promise you you'll regret it."
"I'm here because it's the only way I can pilot Wing. It's mine and I'm going to fight for the colonies."
Domo laughed.
"So you want to be a little hero, huh? I don't know whether that's noble or stupid. In either case, it's a hopeless cause. You can't beat Tatsu and there is no way Mitsuyo is going to train you." Domo leaned forward, staring into the boy's eyes and grinning. "Looks like you'll just have to trust me to do it."
"Will you?"
"Maybe. If you can prove you're worth my effort."
"Toki desu," Hana said, coming up and laying a hand on the man's shoulder. It's time. He somehow knew that's what she was saying. But time for what? Domo stood and headed for the door, but paused before going out.
"Goodnight, little hero," he said, without turning around. "May you sleep light and wake up unchanged." Then he left. The boy stared at the closed door. What did that mean? There was something going on here. So far, nearly everyone he'd met had warned him not to stay. Even Hana was tense in his presence. Did it have something to do with Mitsuyo? Tatsu had seemed nervous around him-- But that could be from anything and Domo hadn't said the doctor's name with any kind of emotion at all. But Mitsuyo seemed to be strictly in control of this satellite.
The boy closed his eyes and organized his thoughts. Even though there was no proof, Mitsuyo was the prime suspect. Domo had a needle mark on his arm that was either recent or used frequently. The way he said drug was the same way Odin used to say target in the later years. Bitter, sarcastic and full of self-loathing. So, perhaps Domo was addicted to a drug- Judging from the man's last comment, it wouldn't be hard to assume that the drug had been forced on him at night. It was all just guess work of course, but it was always better to overestimate the danger…especially in a strange place.
At present, the boy was fairly sure he wouldn't be targeted for a secret injection. Everyone here seemed to think he was just a waste of time. That would change though, so he would have to learn to sleep lightly while he had the chance. The boy added that to his mental list, then stood and stretched his tired muscles. It had been a long day. Tomorrow he would try to think of a way to impress Domo. Not that he trusted the man, but right now he had no other choice.
This decided, he gave his tiny room a quick but thorough look-over, braved the crushing gravity to change the security lock on his door, then went to bed and slept soundly for the last time.
---
Knote: Annnd the story goes ooooon. It will end! Soon! Well…not really really soon…but it will end. Any questions about why he can sorta kinda but not really understand Japanese? Also...someone mentioned Duo's real episode Zero. Where can I find that?
Disclaimer: Considering I have only about twenty bucks to my name right now…
Night (gimme back my stupid tilde darnit!) Mare