The colony swept below, curving gently like the side of a bowl. The colony was now in its night cycle and lit up, more or less. The buildings of the commercial district clustered in the middle, one building with a glass dome that shone steadily and reminded the boy of a lighthouse he'd seen in a picture once. Houses and apartment buildings filled up the rest of the space, lights flickering now and again as the power grid malfunctioned, which seemed to happen a lot. It was an old colony and the Alliance's presence was slight at best but the government here seemed to have troubles scraping up the money necessary for quality repair.
The boy rested his arm on his raised knee as he stared out the small window his room provided. Despite the worn conditions on colony, there was life there, warmth. He remembered being surprised the first time he'd wandered along the narrow, twisting streets, not long after he'd been bought back from the satellite, and seeing a small park in a knot of trees. There had been children, running through the soft grass and flinging up handfuls of sand in the sandbox. A few adults had been scattered throughout, either tending children or perched on benches, chattering to one another. A woman had pushed a baby on a swing so that the infant squealed and kicked tiny feet. He didn't know how long he'd stayed there and watched them, but he hadn't been able to look away. Even now, he wanted to go back and watch. Their lives were so fragile. A single bullet was enough to kill them but yet they laughed and played with soft faces as if they weren't even aware of the danger.
Watching them had made him feel strange in the pit of his stomach. He touched his belly reflexively. It was almost like…hunger…or the onset of food poisoning. It wasn't something anyone had been able to explain to him. The one medical doctor they had told him that whatever it had been wasn't due to ill health and Dr. J had just smiled and said that some things were beyond explanation. If it was that far beyond explaining, the boy wished he could just forget about it. He leaned his head against the wall, letting his hand drop to the hard floor which was metal underneath the thin red carpet.
There was a knock at the door and he glanced thoughtfully at the gun that lay right beside him, dull black but shining with a strip of light from the small desk lamp.
"Come in," he said, deciding he probably didn't need the gun but wasn't going to open himself to attack. Not that he expected anyone to attack him here. The colony was a lot safer than the satellite, but it never hurt to be cautious. Mizuki poked her head in the room, seeming tentative. She was a fluid dynamics technician, aged thirty-four with a missing brother and a fiancé with a plaque in the cemetery after being executed by the Alliance. Everyone in this small apartment complex knew her as his "mother", though she seemed so awkward about it that he wasn't sure how long that would last.
"Hey, you," Mizuki said, a small smile curving her mouth as she leaned her head against the door. "Do you always sit in the dark?"
"The light is on," he said. A fact that was obvious to anyone who could see. Mizuki, however, said things like this often, as if she meant something entirely different. Sometimes she explained herself, sometimes she didn't, but the boy had learned to just stop trying to decipher what she really meant. It was a woman thing, according to Toshi, the aging thermal engineer/body guard who posed as his father. The boy had seen a few women and in his experience, not one had acted the least bit like the other so he'd just decided it was a Mizuki thing.
"It's so dim, though," she said, reaching over to turn on the light switch. "It'll hurt your eyes."
"I'm not reading," he said. Her hand stilled just below the switch, her index finger was still outstretched. Even in this light he could see her nails were jagged and bitten. Something had been going wrong with the Gundam again, he guessed. It was having a lot of problems lately. Dr. J said it was just the scientific process at work but some seemed to take it harder than others.
"I guess not," she said, her smile faltering a little as she let her hand drop to her side. It didn't stay there, though, and soon began to worry the edge of the doorframe. "It's unusual for you not to be reading," she said with a nervous smile, sticking out the tip of her tongue.
The boy shrugged. He supposed it was. He didn't want to read all the time, though, and sometimes it was better to just sit where he was and just be for a while. She glanced at him, then looked away, picking at the wood and bringing up small splinters. He had the feeling she wanted to say something. It probably wasn't anything important. Dr. J had said she was very professional so he trusted any critical information would be given to him right away. Since he had nothing pressing to do, he couldn't help but wonder what it was. Though he wasn't sure if he was going to find out. Her muscles were tense and she kept looking at everything in the room but him. What was she trying to avoid? Wouldn't it be better to just come out and say it?
"Are you busy?" she asked finally. Her face reddened a little. "I mean, you're not, obviously, but if you're sufficiently bored, would you like to…take a walk?"
"Okay," he said, standing and taking a second to stretch his legs. Her expression brightened immediately and the tension left her arms, as if she'd been holding her breath. The boy tried not to look at her too much, though he was fascinated by the sudden change. It was another Mizuki thing and she seemed to get embarrassed easily if she was caught at it.
"Really? Wow. I'm so relieved," she said as he scooped up the gun and checked to make sure the safety was on before putting it into the hem of his jeans and pulling his shirt over it. She had to back away to let him out of the room and did so lightly on the balls of her feet. She'd been a dancer once, he'd heard.
"You're kind of intimidating sometimes, you know? You look like a kid but you're so serious. Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to my old professor."
Intimidating? Old professor? The boy wasn't sure what to think about that. Was he more serious than other children his age? Would people suspect that there was something different about him? He was officially home schooled and so far he'd tried to avoid people when he could, but what if they noticed? The boy sighed as he went to the closet to pull out his new blue coat that was not only comfortable and warm but designed to hide the bulge of a gun. It was efficient and he was beginning to appreciate that concept as time went on. Living here was not efficient. The Gundam was in a private spaceport three miles away and so, in effect was Dr. J. The other mechanics and technicians that worked on the project were spread liberally around the district. The closest technician was two blocks away and meeting, even coming to the spaceport at the same time, was frowned on. At least he got to see Dr. J everyday, if not in person then over the communications systems that were triply encrypted.
He pulled on his coat and looked over to see Mizuki in the shoe area, jamming her bare feet into white tennis shoes. She was just in short sleeves and thin cotton pants. The boy frowned. The solar panels in this sector were in the process of being repaired, and to conserve energy it was only about fifty degrees outside. Didn't she read the thermometer? He took her green coat off the hanger, rolling his eyes as a screw fell out and plunked to the ground. Another screw followed it. There must be a hole in the pocket. A quick search proved him right. The boy quickly emptied the pocket of five screws, a rubber hammer and a small missionary tract and transferred the screws and the tract to an upper pocket. The hammer he set on the table by the closet since Toshi had been looking for it for about a week.
"You should really stop stealing Toshi's hammer," the boy said, handing her the coat and putting on his own shoes as she shrugged it on. "He gets annoyed when it disappears."
"I will when Toshi starts keeping the lid of the toilet seat down," she said, bunching her hair up in the mirror and twisting it into a small knot at the nape of her neck. "Fake marriage isn't enough for me to put up with that."
"Why can't you just put it back down again?" the boy said, lacing his shoes tight. She gave him a look, pursing her lips before finally smiling.
"You'll find out one day," she said. "Or you'll be lonely for a long time."
It didn't make any sense to him at all. It wasn't like it took an extra effort to put the toilet seat down. All that was required was a slight push and letting gravity do the rest. Mizuki pushed open the door and he followed her out into the hallway. It was a small and poorly lit hall, but clean and with worn desks boasting silk flowers that were provided by a man upstairs. No sooner had Mizuki closed the door behind them then an old lady, whom everyone called Auntie, poked her head out of her room and asked where they were going.
"Just out for a walk with my son," said Mizuki, patting his shoulder and smiling broadly. Auntie looked at them, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening as she squinted.
"This late? They'll be hooligans."
"I'm prepared just in case things get rough. We'll fight them off together, right Satoshi?" she said, clenching her hand into a fist.
"Sure," said the boy, tempted to walk ahead without her. She was too loud and her voice fell flat on his ears. He was fairly sure that mothers didn't act like that but he'd never done an extensive study so it was hard to tell.
"Eh?" said Auntie. "You should just run away if that happens. It's not healthy for a woman to fight."
"It's not?" said Mizuki. The old woman shook her head.
"And he shouldn't be going out dressed like that either." Here, Auntie jabbed a gnarled finger in his direction. The boy had a sinking feeling.
"I'm fine," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He gave Mizuki a significant look. She was looking down at him, her mouth twisted down.
"Really?"
"Yes, he certainly needs to be bundled up more," said Auntie.
"No I don't," said the boy shortly. He knew where this was heading. It was heading where it always headed and he wasn't going to let it happen. Auntie smiled at him, a tight lipped expression that didn't hide her lack of teeth very well. One withered hand reached out and the boy tensed to back away but Mizuki's hand on his shoulder stopped him. He glanced up at her and saw the smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. She was enjoying this. The boy sighed, outwardly this time, but didn't move as Auntie's thin sandpapery fingers pinched his cheek.
"They're so cute when they're impudent. A much better quality in boys than girls, don't you think?" she said.
"Well I-" Mizuki started.
"Of course you wouldn't know, having only a boy. You're lucky though, a boy will do you good." Auntie nodded, patting the boy's cheek once before she straightened, pulling her shawl more securely around her bony shoulders. "Anyway, if you're going out, best not go out too long or too far. You never know when those rebels are going to be out causing trouble."
Mizuki tensed and the boy felt her fingers dig into the back of his jacket like she was looking for something grab on to. The boy stepped to the side a little and bumped into her, it was a gesture he'd seen a child do at the park and was meant, by that child anyway, to be affectionate. Maybe that would be enough to get Mizuki to focus. Anyone could be a spy and the smallest of twitches could be enough to give it all away.
"Back in my day we never had that problem," Auntie said, seemingly oblivious to Mizuki's darkening mood. "It's the rebels causing all the problems you hear about. Blowing up things and killing people. It's disgraceful."
"I want to go now," the boy said, pulling at Mizuki's sleeve.
"So you think the Alliance is better?" Maybe she'd wanted her statement to sound like a question but to the boy it sounded openly hostile. This was irritating. He couldn't wait until he was old enough to not need the accompaniment of "parents". Auntie sniffed.
"Peace can only be achieved through peace," said the old woman stiffly, sounding as if she was quoting something. "Violence will only beget violence." She lifted her head a little. "And those that that engage in it deserve a sticky end."
"Listen-," Mizuki all but snarled.
"I want to go," the boy said, stamping his foot down on hers, hard, grinding down his heel but careful not to break the fragile bones.
"OW! Shit!" Mizuki shoved him away impulsively and raised her hand as if she were going to backhand him. The boy hoped she didn't. That would leave a mark and he didn't think a normal child would have the reflexes to duck. In a moment, though, Mizuki relaxed, resting her foot gingerly on the ground and giving him a strange half smile.
"I'm sorry, Auntie," she said. "A good friend of mine died because of the Alliance and I don't think I've gotten over it quite yet."
"Understandable," said Auntie, unfazed. "But you shouldn't look to the rebels for revenge. They couldn't find their bottom with both hands." She cackled at that and the boy walked toward the elevator, leaving Mizuki to make their goodbyes. Auntie was a little annoying sometimes but she was smart, she could see the truth it seemed most of the 'heart on their sleeves' rebels were denying. A single, unified, rebellion didn't exist. Instead the colonies were just dotted with small factions, each doing their own thing. The only rebel group with any organization the boy had seen was this one, but maybe that was because there was financial backing. He wasn't entirely sure on the details yet, a situation he was going to rectify as soon as he got the Gundam.
The boy pressed the down button and listened to the elevators groaning reply as it started up. It had almost reached their floor by the time Mizuki hobbled up to him. She was still smiling but it wasn't really happy. There were so many shades of emotions, the boy was beginning to realize. Still she didn't say anything until they were in the small, smelly elevator and it started it's clunky way down. They had better do maintenance on it soon, the boy thought, or there would be a tragedy. A stupid tragedy too, since it would be completely avoidable.
"I shouldn't have said that," she said after a while. The boy said nothing, instead shoving his hands in his pockets and watching the numbers fall on the elevator's digital readout. Someone had stuck a large piece of graying bubblegum up there, crammed underneath the ledge. Why did people do that, he wondered. It wasn't as if there wasn't a trash can on every floor. In fact Mr. Mikashi on floor 11 had bolted the trash cans right next to the elevator because he got tired of seeing all the trash people left.
"I just get so mad!" Mizuki said, furiously pulling back her hair and tying it with an elastic band, as if she needed something to do with her hands. "So many people are dying because they're fighting for people like her and it's just…it's just…" She glared at him, her hands now pulled into sharp fists. "Doesn't it just piss you off?"
The boy thought a moment. He was tempted to say that if he got angry at every stupid thing someone said or did, he'd never stop. Auntie's words hadn't been stupid, though, and maybe she was right about the end.
"It's her opinion," he said with a shrug.
"Well she should change her attitude," Mizuki said.
"As long as she doesn't become a threat, I don't see why it matters," said the boy as the elevator settled on the first floor. He took a second to gauge the situation before continuing. "We're supposed to protect everyone on the colonies. Not just the people that agree." No sooner had he said it then the doors slid open. Thankfully, the lobby was empty except for an old arthritic cat who everyone fed but no one lay claim to. It lay sprawled in the center of the room, a pile of gray fur. The boy went over to it, waiting until it opened a yellow eye and gave him a baleful glare before he scratched it behind the ear. The cat's eye closed again and its tail thumped once or twice in mild irritation, but otherwise it didn't move.
Soon the boy realized that there was no sound of Mizuki's footsteps. Hadn't she followed him? Mildly alarmed, he looked around to find her leaning on the wall next to the elevator and staring out the small dingy window. The boy glanced out the window too and saw an empty street. She must be thinking about something. Finally her shoulders lifted and dropped in a heavy sigh.
"I can protect her and hate her at the same time, can't I?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and giving him a small smile. The boy shrugged. He wasn't sure why she wanted to waste her energy like that. Well it wasn't up to him to tell her how to think.
"Do you want to go now?" he asked, straightening. She nodded without looking at him and he held the door open for her as they went out. It was cold tonight, cold enough so that his breath clouded in front of him.
Being outside seemed to settle Mizuki. After a while she even reached up and pulled her hair from its ponytail and the curls fell against her neck. She must have had a parent that wasn't Asian, the boy thought. He wondered what her parents were like, if they were even still alive. He never really thought about adults having parents, though of course they did. The boy tried not to think about it too much. There were other things to think about. For instance, he'd been here for three weeks now and had heard nothing about how he was going to compete for the Gundam. He hadn't even had time to examine it, yet, since Dr. J always had him busy at the computer, learning programming and operating systems. He liked it, in a way. Programming made sense. These lines of code made this specific thing happen. It was something he could get his head around and found almost calming in a way. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little disconnected from his mission somehow, as if he was just waiting for something to happen.
Mizuki left the main sidewalk and onto a narrow white walkway that lead up a small hill in a gentle curve. This was the way to the playground and the boy wondered why they were going in that direction. Maybe it was just coincidence. Maybe Mizuki just wanted a better view. The playground sat at the top of the hill, ringed by trees. There was a sandbox and a swing set, a few slides and a merry-go-round. A single street lamp stood near the playground as if it was guarding it, casting the metal in a harsh white light.
"Roger loved playgrounds," Mizuki said in a strange voice that seemed happy and sad at the same time. That was her fiancé, the boy knew. Though Roger was just a codename, his hands were apparently so deep in everything, they couldn't even reveal his identity now. The boy wondered if he even had one.
"He built one, you know? On our home colony. Before he came along, the kids just had empty lots to play around in." She wandered over to the swings and flopped on one which squeaked a little under her sudden weight. The boy watched her. Was that right for an adult to want to swing? He wasn't sure. On the other hand, adults seemed to get away with childish things more often than a child could get away with adult things. It was annoying. Everything would be so much more efficient if he could just get done what he needed to get done without all the adults looking at him like he was some abnormality.
"Come on," Mizuki said, pushing herself up on the swing. "Have some fun! All that seriousness isn't good for a kid your age."
"Hn," the boy said, but he sat on a swing anyway and pushed off. It was almost too cold to swing. The wind stung his nose as he came up but enough exercise and he would be warm soon enough.
"So tell me about yourself, if you can," Mizuki said, swinging herself. It was strange to see an adult doing something like that so casually. "Do you have any family? Friends? A name to go with your good looks?"
"No," said the boy, not about to go into detail. Although he was pretty sure Mizuki was on his side, it never hurt to be cautious. Also there simply wasn't much more to tell.
"Not even a name, huh?" She spoke as if she didn't believe him. "Well we'll have to give you one."
"Are names really that important?" As soon as he asked, he really wanted to know. Names were good for documentation purposes, he guessed, record keeping, neither of which he wanted to be a part of. Names could be changed and altered easily. They were a disguise of their own. Still, people seemed to be attached to them as if they were a lifeline. A name meant something but the boy couldn't guess what.
"I guess not," Mizuki said. The boy frowned, disappointed. It was a typical response. Either she wasn't sure or she didn't want to answer. It was just a simple question. He would have liked to have known what she thought. How could he understand people if no one ever explained anything to him? Mizuki dragged her feet in the dirt, bringing herself to a stop. She didn't seem as if she was going to get up right away so the boy kept swinging, aware of her eyes on him. She liked to stare at him a lot and he wondered why.
"I guess it's easy in a way," she said, looking at some point beyond him. "You have no attachments, nothing to be taken away and shot."
No. He usually seemed to have to get rid of attachments himself. He continued to swing, pushing his legs back and forth in the simple, repetitive action. Thoughts and memories drifted through his mind, faces whose details he'd long forgotten. It was pointless to try and remember the past. There was nothing there that would help him. Still he let the memories go where they wanted, vaguely analyzing what he'd done wrong and how he could have improved his performance.
"Hello?" Mizuki said. The boy blinked, startled out of his reverie. Mizuki was on her phone, wrinkles forming on her forehead as someone talked. The boy jumped from the swing, landing easily and straightened his jacket, his palm brushing over the gun that was tucked against his side.
"Now?" she said, standing as well and scrubbing a free hand through her hair. "Well it's late. Why so soon?" She glanced at the boy. He shoved his hands in his pockets and waited patiently. A big dog barked close by and the boy titled his head to the sound. He could just hear footsteps coming closer to where they were and gave Mizuki a look, nodding toward the nose. She acknowledged she had heard with a nod of her own.
"All right," she said into the phone. "We might have visitors. What should I bring?" She was asking for a code to get into the private spaceport. It was late for them to be going there. Though it didn't sound like an emergency. How strange. The boy moved past her to the line of the trees that blocked the interlopers from sight. It was a man, the leash of a huge dog in one hand while his other clutched the tiny fingers of a child. It was a little girl, the boy guessed, by the pink fluffy ball on top of her winter hat.
"Papa," the girl said, her fingers twitching in his large hand. The man stopped and the boy tensed, slipping his hand under his coat to wrap his hand around the grip, warmed by his body heat. The man pulled the leash around his wrist and crouched. The girl came around to stand at his back, but stopped and reached into her puffy coat for something. He slowly pulled the gun anyway, aiming for her head and pushing the safety off. Did she see him? Was she just acting innocent? A pair of cotton mittens appeared in her hands. Suddenly she startled as if she noticed him and he quickly put the gun behind his back.
"Papa, there's a boy in the bushes!" she said, a little lisp in her voice.
"That's nice, Ariko, but we have to get home before Mama gets worried," he said without even looking around.
"All right. Bye bye!" She waved at him, then pulled on her mittens and put her arms around her father's neck. He reached behind him as he stood to adjust her then continued down the road. The girl turned her head to watch the boy a bit longer, then turned back around again. "His Mommy lets him stay out a long time."
"Satoshi…" Mizuki whispered, her eyes wide. She was looking at him like she had never seen him before. He'd seen that look, though not often and when they did they were usually dead afterwards. He pushed the safety back on and put the gun in his jeans once more.
"She was a concern," he said, pulling his jacket over it.
"She couldn't have been older than four!" Mizuki hissed. The boy sighed inwardly. This was going to be a problem. Maybe a big problem. It was such a pain.
"I was that age, too," he said, irritated that he had to give away that much. "It was just too much of a coincidence."
"You are something else," she said, folding her arms and looking away. He could see her jaw working as she ground her teeth together. This wasn't a good sign. She was part of the core team of specialists working on the Gundam.
"If she had a gun, what would you think?" he said. Why didn't she understand? It wasn't that difficult a concept. Mizuki didn't say anything for a while, then sighed, shoulders slumping and turned toward him.
"Well she didn't," said the woman. "This is a peaceful place; the chaos in the other colonies hasn't touched this one yet."
"That doesn't mean it won't," the boy said. There were no truly peaceful places in the boy's experience. There was always someone out there, looking at you through the sights of a rifle. There was always a bomb waiting to go off, always someone waiting to whisper those words which would throw the entire mission into jeopardy.
"That doesn't mean it will," she said right back. Then she reached out and before he could move back, ruffled his hair. "You need to learn to relax, kiddo. Your entire life doesn't need to be a battlefield."
The words struck him oddly, like words in a book he'd only just read. His entire life... Mizuki smiled and started downhill, walking smoothly as if she'd never been mad at him. He followed her wordlessly. Life had always been a fight or getting ready for one. There had always been something to set up, someone to kill. The boy couldn't imagine how it could be any different. Was it even possible? He tried to remember sometime when it was different, sometime when he wasn't thinking five steps ahead, to outwit an enemy or plan the next attack.
As they reached the bottom of the hill, he heard the distant bark of a dog. He glanced down the hill but didn't see a sign of the little girl's passing. Had she even seen a gun before, he wondered. Did she know how short her life had almost become? Did she even know how to hold a gun? He recalled her in his mind's eye, rounded cheeks, bright eyes, small and soft, an easy target.
The boy found himself staring at his hand and shook his head, there was no time for this. He caught up to Mizuki who was standing on the corner of the sidewalk, waiting impatiently. An old Safari MK puttered into view, one headlight considerably dimmer than the other, rumbling uncertainly in the otherwise quiet streets. It was Toshi's baby, or so he'd said. A fixer-upper after a mechanic's heart. There was a sort of genius to riding around in a car like that. Not many would look twice, or think it would be the kind of car belonging to some secret organization.
"So are you ready, boy?" Toshi said as the boy climbed into the back seat. It smelled like gasoline and a rusted old toolbox rested on the floor next to him. The boy shut the door, and felt the vibration of the engine purr against his legs as the car once again started down the street.
"Ready for what?"
"They're going to start the tests," Mizuki said darkly. The boy's heart fluttered. The tests. They must be talking about the competition for Wing, it was actually starting. The boy stared out the window, watching the light poles pass. He hadn't been told anything about the tests, even what they were. Maybe they would test him at the controls of a mobile suit? The thought popped into his head, wild and brilliant but he quickly shot it down. He hadn't been trained for that, other than a few simulations, and any kind of mobile suit testing would certainly draw attention. What then?
He ran scenarios through his mind, tests he might encounter and how he could overcome them. However there were too many things he didn't know, too many variables. The more he thought about it the more his heartbeat seemed to accelerate as if he was somehow anxious. The boy closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. There was nothing to worry about. Even if he didn't know what the tests even were, he knew who he was up against. He tried to turn his mind to what he knew of Hana. Since Tatsu was dead and Domo could hardly walk let alone pilot a Gundam, she was the only option. Unless, of course there was some unknown fourth that he wasn't aware of. The boy tucked that possibility in the back of his mind and focused on Hana.
And came up surprisingly short. He knew she was a fencer and factored that in, also seemed to have some skill with computers and accessing and overriding data from the main computer of the satellite anyway. He knew that she seemed to have a deeper emotional bond with Tatsu than with Domo and seemingly none with Mitsuyo, but otherwise he wasn't sure. He'd spent so much energy training and trying to avoid being stabbed by needles that he hadn't bothered to find out more about her. Well, it shouldn't matter. She was more emotionally unstable than he was and obviously not a good choice for the Gundam, he would just have to prove himself, that was all.
All too soon they arrived at the base. Since the property was labeled as a space-port, private or not, there were some high class shuttles that were kept here, seats on which were sold to high paying executives who wanted to get where they were going and not have to deal with the crowded hassle of the main space port. Tonight it seemed as if every executive in the colony had bought a seat. The boy hadn't seen the small parking lot this full. Maybe someone important was coming in or leaving.
"Like rats jumping ship," Toshi muttered. The boy glanced at him, not sure what he meant. He knew what a rat was, of course, both the animal and the insult, but why would rats be on a ship? And why would they jump off it? Ships went on the ocean, didn't they? And the ocean was very wide and very deep so if they did jump off they'd have a slim chance of surviving.
"What does that even mean?" Mizuki said.
"It's an old earth term," Toshi said. "Implying that vile rodents manage to sniff out disaster and escape before it strikes."
"It's a stupid expression," said Mizuki. "Disaster doesn't have a smell."
"You just don't like it because you're a purist," Toshi said.
"Of course I am! Earth for Earth, colonies for the colonies."
"It isn't any worse than the one about cats being able to sense impending traffic congestion."
"Cats are very sensitive creatures!"
"Ha!"
The boy rolled his eyes and tried to ignore their bickering. Whether or not rats jumping ship was a stupid expression, Toshi had said it for a reason. Was something going on? Or was it just a hunch? The boy tried to put it out of his mind. He couldn't afford to concentrate on something that might or might not happen, especially when he didn't know any of the details. He had to concentrate on the task ahead… Whatever that was. They parked near the back, Toshi grumbling the entire way and then walked together up to the glass doors of the spaceport. It was essential for their cover that they look like a family to anyone who might spot them, even this late at night. Still, the boy wished he were old enough to go into a place like this alone without raising any eyebrows. He was tired on having to rely on others for cover.
The guard who stood entrance at the doors, both for show and a first warning if something should go wrong, nodded at them and opened the door for them as they went through. A simple gesture and one that meant "All clear". Businessmen and women were arranged in the lobby, talking quietly amongst themselves or reading newspapers with a headline proclaiming "Rising Antagonism!" in bold letters. Outside a shuttle waited, attendants moving around it, basked in floodlights, as they prepared the vehicle for space travel.
They arrived at the luggage claims room and the secretary, a fierce looking man, looked up from his romance novel and waved to them before pushing the button under his desk that would open the door hidden behind a stack of permanently lost luggage.
"Is there going to be an insurrection in this colony?" the boy asked, once they were on the narrow stairwell that lead to the heart of the operation.
"We would have heard something, right?" Mizuki said, but looked at Toshi anyway. He worked as a spy in some ways, the boy knew, but he'd never been filled in on the details. If it wasn't something Dr. J thought he needed to know then the boy wouldn't press, but if information was given freely the boy was going to get all that he could.
"Who knows?" said Toshi as they reached the bottom of the stairwell and he tapped in the security code for the door. "There's fuel seething under the surface just waiting for a match flipped in just the right direction, but this colony is under such tight control that anything that might flare up will be smashed back down again." He looked disgusted as he said this, though because of the rebellion or the alliance, the boy wasn't sure. Personally, the boy was a little annoyed at the rebellion. If they stirred up anything, there would be an increased risk that the Gundam would be found in the crackdown. The best way for the Gundam to remain safe was that this colony continued in peace.
The lock accepted the code and the door slid open. Though the boy could walk ahead, he stayed with Toshi and Mizuki anyway as they went down the corridor. They came to the hangar where the two technicians ruffled his hair and wished him good luck and then walked in. For a moment, the boy saw the head and torso of wing, slumped over, one arm hanging to the ground, stuck to the wall with strong magnets. Like a puppet, ready to be animated. The doors closed and the boy stared, fighting the impulse to go in and see the Gundam once more. It would be a waste of time. He was supposed to meet Dr. J now. It wasn't as if staring at it would give him any insight to the tests ahead.
"Ah, there you are," said Dr. J nearby. The boy turned his head and saw the scientist standing in the hallway a few feet away, grinning. He clicked his metallic hand repeatedly, whether out of habit or a gesture of some emotion the boy couldn't guess. "I hope you've gotten your rest these past few days," Dr. J said as the boy came up to him.
"It was sufficient," the boy said. Dr. J started down the hall and the boy fell into step easily beside him, wondering where they were going. "Why are we starting the testing now?" Not that the boy minded really. It was just strange that they would start something major at night like this, unless it was to be some sort of mission.
"Who knows," said the scientist as the turned into a hall the boy had rarely been down. There were a few unused rooms here, a storage shed of backup equipment and a hidden escape exit at the end that wound up behind some shrubbery near an old canning factory. "I didn't have a say in when it was, but I suspect someone who did."
They came to a door at the end of the hall and Dr. J gestured that he should go first. The boy entered cautiously but there was nothing alarming in the room. Two treadmills stood side by side. A man that the boy had never seen before was standing in the middle of the room, writing something on a clipboard. He looked up for a moment, regarding the boy through thick glasses before sniffing and looking back at his work. Hana was there, too, standing with one of the scientists the boy recognized from the satellite. She had cut her hair but the edges were ragged and brushed against her chin. She was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. He'd never seen her bare arms before but wasn't surprised to find them roped with a subtle layer of muscle. They were pale, too and he could see the red and pale pink spots where needles had pierced her skin repeatedly. There was another needle in her now. She watched the fluid flow inside her, her expression blank. The scientist with her muttered something, but to low for the boy to hear.
"How is Domo?" he asked, the name strange on his lips even though it had only been a few months. Her spine stiffened but she didn't turn to look at him. The boy let it go, and since it looked like they would be doing running of some kind, began to stretch. He noticed the man with the clipboard watching him intently and watched him back out of the corner of his eye.
"The test will commence in three minutes," the man with the clipboard said. As if on cue, Dr. J and one of his assistants stepped forward, bringing with them a tray with an array of electrodes attached to a machine by long thin wires that made it look like some strange species of squid. The boy sighed inwardly. He hated electrodes. He hated the glue they were stuck to his skin with that still felt tacky days afterwards and the beeping of the machine made something deep inside of him twitch. Still he stood patiently while the doctor and his assistant attached him. In the reflection of the mirror he could see Hana getting the same treatment by two doctors he only vaguely recognized. They were part of Mitsuyo's personal team so the boy would bet that man was around here somewhere.
After they were done, the boy got on the treadmill, sighing again as the wires tangled and the electrodes pulled. This was going to be very annoying. What were they monitoring for anyway?
"You may choose your own setting," the man with the clipboard said. "Water will be provided." With that he left the room, the other scientists and assistants followed him leaving the boy and Hana alone. He wanted to say something to her, but he wasn't sure what. He wondered if he'd missed her in some way, he wouldn't discount it, but really he couldn't afford to miss anyone. He couldn't afford to feel sorry for anyone. Instead he concentrated on the treadmill, seeing the options before first selecting a fairly slow speed to warm himself up but would edge up to something faster yet not too strenuous. He wasn't sure if this was a speed test or an endurance test and until he knew it was wise not to exhaust himself. Hana started at a faster pace and the boy fought the urge to match up with her. He had to show them what he could do, not what he thought Hana could do. He had to win Wing on his own merit.
It was near morning. 2:20, he thought, or somewhere close. They had been running for about six hours. Hana had kept a steady pace throughout and so had he. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that it wasn't wise. That if he kept this up he would be in pain by the time everything was finished, but he couldn't let himself slow down. As it was every time he glanced at the used water bottles in the bin on his side of the room, he tried not to cringe. He needed it, he knew. His body needed to be kept hydrated. There were only five bottles in there, would soon be six and less then he really should be drinking. But Hana had only gone through two bottles and hadn't slowed down at all. The only sign of her effort was a scattering of perspiration at her temples. He wanted to tell himself it was all the medication…but what if it was something more than that? What if she'd found a new method of training that he wasn't aware of. Maybe he really couldn't compare to her after all.
The boy mentally shook his head of that thought. There was no time or place for doubt. He would prove his worth. He would. He had to. If she got the Gundam, there was no predicting what she would use it for. The colonies needed peace not some revenge driven madman or a girl would only be a puppet for Mitsuyo's wishes. He was the only one he trusted to do the job right and the only one Dr. J trusted. The treadmill began to slow. The boy blinked, startled and checked the settings. The colored bar that indicated the speed was slowly falling. An error with the system maybe? He glanced up at the window and only saw himself glancing back. There was no telling if anyone was even back there. What he did see, though was that Hana's expression had changed. The impassive mask had dropped and her forehead was furrowed as she looked at her treadmill to. She was slowing down as well. Was there something going wrong with the electrical system? Were they being infiltrated? Under attack? Or was this simply part of the test?
As soon as the treadmill stopped the door opened and Dr. J and the other scientists came in. The boy stood still as Dr. J's assistant worked to take the electrodes. One of them stuck to his temple was particularly hard to get off and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. One day he'd no longer have to be stuck with these things. There had to be a day past tests and hospital visits, right?
"Come on," the assistant said. The boy stepped off the treadmill, his legs twinging a bit in protest, then he followed them through a door he hadn't been in yet which lead to a curved narrow hallway with more doors leading off of it. He glanced around, trying to get a sense of where they were and what the purpose of these rooms were but without looking inside, it was impossible. They came to a door near the end of the hall which looked no different from any of the other doors and Dr. J pressed a digit of his claw into the access panel then swung the door open. It was a white room, a single domed light on the ceiling with no sign of a switch.
The assistant and Dr. J stepped aside and the boy figured he was supposed to enter. He stopped at the threshold automatically, taking in the room though there was nothing to take in, not even an access panel on the inside. If anything happened he would be stuck. It worried him. The heavy claw lay on his shoulder. It was a thing of metal and screws, machinery vibrating just below the surface.
"Don't worry. I have no doubt that you'll succeed."
The boy blinked, the words filling his head. He nodded in acknowledgment that he'd heard and stepped into the room. The door shut behind him and, after a moment he turned and absently ran his fingers over the edge but could find no seam to work his fingers into. That didn't mean this room was inescapable. No room was. It was only a matter of finding the weakness. He wasn't in the mood for finding weakness right now, though and instead paced the room, continuing to cool down his muscles until he felt relaxed enough, then sitting against the cool metallic wall.
Time passed slowly. The room must have been soundproofed or something because he couldn't hear anything except his own breathing. The silence in the room pressed against his ears and he stared at a spot on the wall just for something to focus on. Dr. J trusted that he could win. Whether he was basing this on evidence or just pure hope, the boy wasn't sure. Mizuki didn't seem to doubt it either, nor Toshi for that matter. The only people who never took him seriously, it seemed, were the people who didn't know him. They thought that he was just a kid, sometimes a creepy looking kid… It was convenient, he supposed, but sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be seen as something in between. What was in between any way? He pushed those thoughts around for a while, examining them, but they yielded nothing other than questions. It was frustrating and soon he was bored out of his mind.
So he set to the problem of breaking out. They couldn't possibly want him to stay in here. The boy could see no purpose to that at all. Anyway it was a sufficiently difficult problem that kept him occupied for the better part of two hours. But in the end with the help of some shoelaces, easily bendable paper clips he kept in his pockets and a few crossed wires, the door was easily pushed open. There was no one in the long hallway and, figuring he was supposed to keep out of sight as long as possible, the boy kept close to the wall, ducking in shadowed doorways when he heard the approach of footsteps.
Once he reached the doorway of the hall way he knew, however, he had to pause. He knew there were cameras there and that they were almost impossible to dodge. Someone would see him go. He could meddle with them but that might compromise the security of the whole complex. Maybe he wasn't supposed to have left at all. But that was stupid. What would that prove? Annoyed by the uncertainty, the boy stepped into the familiar hall way, knowing the cameras watched his every movement but doing his best to move quietly. He thought perhaps first to go to Dr. J's office, but the scientist wasn't there, just one of his bony, nosy assistants who the boy wasn't fond of. Maybe the goal was the hangar. It could be some kind of test to see who could reach the Gundam first.
The hangar was mostly empty when he got there. The technicians usually worked in shifts, but they were always understaffed and no one wanted to work the late hours. Still a pair of women were standing by the beginnings of a gigantic foot and had their heads together as they read a schematic. After some searching he found Toshi and Mizuki in the tool room, sorting through data printouts and picking at a meal from a local tempura place. They looked up, surprised to see him.
"I thought you were in isolation," Toshi said, scratching his graying beard with the end of a chopstick.
"Isolation?" Was he really supposed to have stayed back in the room? "What for?"
"Some kind of psychological evaluation, I thought," Toshi said. Mizuki elbowed him sharply.
"You're not supposed to tell him any details!" she said in a hushed voice, glancing above the boy's head where he knew the security camera was. It was too late for that. Toshi had already spoken and they would know where he was anyway if they looked at the cameras he hadn't been able to avoid.
"Well I suppose it doesn't matter right now," Toshi said, waving a hand. "I've no doubt you escaped somehow and since you obviously didn't know the test they can hardly blame you for cheating. Come in and have some tempura." He smiled. "We also have some tasty data if you're interested."
"Hn."
Since Toshi seemed to think it was all right, the boy supposed it was. Mizuki seemed a little reluctant at first but soon they were all three lost in pouring over debug streams of numbers and letters and codes that the complicated nervous system of the Gundam threw out at them. The boy didn't understand all of it but the two helped him patiently if he asked. He was familiar with enough of it, though, to puzzle out what it meant himself. Toshi eventually gave him a pen and he began to mark the failure codes where the gundam's computer hadn't responded according to the specification. There seemed to be a lot of them.
"The more complex the system the more bugs you have to work out," Toshi said. "But we'll get everything straightened out soon enough."
"I still think someone is planting viruses on purpose," aid Mizuki, snatching another shrimp. "We've lost two whole micronetworks. We can't keep buying new chips."
"You see conspiracies everywhere you look," said Toshi, sounding amused as he took the last bit of shrimp tempura before she could. He offered it to the boy who shook his head. He had all ready had enough tempura.
"And you don't look enough," said Mizuki, jabbing her chopsticks in his direction. Toshi leaned back and gave her a mildly affronted look. The boy had to agree with Mizuki though. You couldn't be too careful. Was there a spy among the technicians? If so, from where? Was someone else coming in from the outside somehow and meddling with the data? The boy didn't have enough information to figure out either way.
"You're not just going to let it go, are you?" he asked Toshi, since he had the feeling Mizuki wouldn't. "Someone should look into it."
"No I won't and yes someone should," Toshi gave him an amused smile. "But that someone won't be you."
The boy straightened a little, at first an annoyed but soon seeing the wisdom of it. It would take him to long to understand the whole situation and he had no experience in the finding of spies. Anyway the Gundam came first.
"You'd better get back and get some sleep," said Mizuki. "I think there are probably more tests for you. Not that I know for sure, of course." She looked determinedly at the sheets of data. The boy smiled a little and stood. Mizuki slipped him a few folded pieces of the sheet they had been looking at.
"Do your best," she said. "And you-" she said to Toshi as the boy was leaving the room. "Stop making fun of me. It's important to be cautious."
"Well you don't have to go around thinking everyone is out to get you. Some people like you, you know, even if they are glad not to be 'married' to you anymore."
"The feeling is mutual," Mizuki said. The boy was out of the room and down the hall when the words hit him. Not married. That meant that they were no longer his cover parents. It was good that way. He resumed walking. It was just a cover. He hadn't even lived long with them that way but somehow…somehow it still felt strange. As if they should have told him. As if something was missing.
The boy gave himself a mental shake and focused on sneaking past what cameras he could and slipping back into his room. The light seemed brighter now and he rested on the warm floor in the far corner of the room and tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. To keep his mind occupied he stared at the sheets Mizuki had given him. He pretended he was the Gundam, the data streaming through his head a living thing. And just like the Gundam, as soon as he hit the snarls, the broken bits of pattern, he lost the flow and was pulled back into the bright room. The boy tried to start over but couldn't seem to concentrate. Instead he stared up at the ceiling and let his mind drift to the view that had been outside his window, the colony sweeping below full of life and families and one little girl with a pink puff ball on her hat that was going to see her mother.
Disclaimer: don't own 'em, never will
Dedicated to my twinnie as usual cuz she rocks my socks. Belated b-day pressie until I can get her stupid keychain sent…
Also enormous thanks to West Side. T_T I LOVE YOU, MAN!
And the great folks at Safehousing
And whoever still bothers to read this, thanks to you as well! Just so you know, I've finished the arc! Not here but there are two more chapters written, just need to be beta'd and more after that! Child's Eyes will get done! Believe it!
Night Mare