Day 13
Through Doors Made Of Glass
(Selen/Damian)
She watched him through glass doors. He spoke with the master of Hades City, his back turned to her, facing the screens that told the control room everything they needed to know about the status of the city. His white cape barely stirred in the faint breeze from the air conditioning required in a room with so many computers. She couldn't take her eyes off it, like a rabbit staring at a snake.
.
He watched her through glass doors. She and her brother fought as one in the practice dish against the mechanical launchers that had been set up. He was not surprised to seem them victorious. After all, the mechanical launchers were only a challenge for the likes of the hired bladers who defended the outer rings of the city. The battling pair had the machines set on the hardest difficulty, but it was clear who was in control.
It was interesting to watch someone fighting alongside someone else, rather than against them. It was not a technique that was taught in Hades Inc.
.
She watched him through glass doors. No-one but the scientists were allowed to be in the room whilst an Arrangement was going on, but as Doctor Ziggurat was beginning to imply that the Garcias might be suitable for Arrangements themselves, she had wanted to find out exactly what one was. She was mildly surprised. She had expected something like a battle, with the blade spinning in the centre of the dish and the blader concentrating on every movement that it made, becoming one with it through listening, feeling, knowing. Instead, she watched him lie back in the strange, electric cradle and shut his eyes as the shield closed over him. She stood there for only five minutes, long enough to see everything, and long enough to see all she wanted.
Later, she would wonder whether her revulsion at the idea of being Arranged was from her family values and determination to succeed without artificial help, or whether it was because of the look on his face when he emerged from the chamber, eyes as blank as liquid gold.
.
He watched her through glass doors. She was the second of the Garcias to be subjected to the tests to see if she would be receptive to an Arrangement. The nurse wrapped a pressure-cuff around her upper arm to check her blood pressure, and she only stared resolutely ahead. He knew the battery of tests as well as anyone, but it was always intriguing to watch them from the other side of the door.
.
She watched him through glass doors. The training facility would never be able to handle his level of power, she knew that, and so the day when he stormed into the communal living area and demanded that Jack battle him was one she had been expecting for a long time. Jack was the only one who could come close to Damian's strength, by always doing the unexpected. Jack's tactics were bizarre, his mind fractured into a kaleidoscope of art that only made sense to him. But when it came down to the battle... oh, then all the power was Damian's. So even though she knew what the outcome would be, she watched him, because watching him was like seeing the new world order unfold in front of her eyes.
.
He watched her through glass doors. She had passed the tests, as had Ian. Enzo was still considered too young for the Arrangement to have any real effect, and Argo had failed, to his fury. But being suitable for an Arrangement wasn't related to strength or skill, but to chance. He watched as the scientists helped her to remove most of her outer clothing and attached a number of electrodes to her arms. This was the final check before the system could accept her. Lights were flickering on the console on the far side; mostly green – a good sign, though the heart-rate one was fluctuating between red and orange. She was scared. He couldn't remember if he had been scared before his first time. Maybe he had. The memory was gone now, buried under the knowledge of the power that the Arrangement System could give.
A second scientist led her to the capsule and attached the electrodes to the system once she was lying down. The restraints clipped on easily, and she looked up through the glass roof of the capsule with that arrogant, confident expression he had come to know so well. She was determined to get whatever she could out of this.
He tilted his head to look across at the big screen on the far side of the room, the one displaying the Arrangement Index. As he watched, the numbers flashed into life and began to climb.
Four. Nine. Twelve. Seventeen. Twenty-one.
Oh, she would make a fine addition to Starbreaker's army. Maybe he didn't approve of her methods in the dish, but there was definitely something to be said for a crafty opponent.
Twenty-five. Twenty-seven. Twenty-nine. Thirty-one.
Thirty-three.
Something flashed across her face – discomfort. No, more than that. Pain.
Thirty-five. Thirty-eight.
One of the lights on the panel flickered, then went out. Next to it, another faded into orange. Something was going wrong.
Forty.
Her face twisted, and he put a hand to his chest. Something in him remembered pain. It understood hers, like a cloud encircling his ribs and crushing them.
Forty-two.
Another light went orange. The scientists flipped a couple of switches and one of them lowered the large handle that controlled the speed of the Arrangement. It didn't help; she moved her head restlessly, as if in a nightmare. Forty-six. Forty-seven. Forty-eight.
She shuddered from head to foot, and without realising he took another step towards the glass doors. Every muscle in her body was tense and taut. More lights changed colour. One of the dials was heading rapidly towards red.
Forty-nine. Fifty. Fifty-one.
Without warning, a spasm rippled down her body, muscles clenching and twisting as they reacted to the Arrangement System. Then again. And again, until she was shaking all over.
Fifty-two. Fifty-three.
And then she screamed. He heard it, even through the capsule hood and the doors he stood behind, as the sound ripped the air apart. The scientists were working frantically, trying to stabilise her heart-beat, her breathing, everything. One of them was talking to Doctor Ziggurat via the internal video, clearly asking for permission to abort.
Fifty-four.
Keep going, Ziggurat said, though he had to lip-read it as the voice didn't pass through the doors. She's strong. She'll make it.
Fifty-five.
But he didn't think she would. She was thrashing violently now, body bucking against the electrodes and straps that tied her to the System. Her back arched completely away from the base, and bone-deep pain had twisted her face almost unrecognisably. He was so close to the glass now that his breath was beginning to fog it up, and he stopped breathing to keep it clear.
Fifty-six.
She was screaming, fighting the restraints, tears running unconsciously down her face as she fought against the Arrangement. It was killing her, he knew that. Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine.
All the lights on the panels suddenly flashed red and a warning klaxon screeched overhead. The head scientist slammed his hand down on the failsafe, instantly stopping the procedure and opening the capsule.
She sat up, shaking, coughing and choking, not even noticing the tears streaming over her cheeks. He frowned. Sixty percent complete. Nowhere near enough to count as a proper Arrangement. Even Zeo had managed better than that on his first time through. He stepped back from the doors, a little disappointed. Perhaps she wasn't as good as he'd hoped.
Behind him, the marks of two hand-prints slowly faded from the glass.
.
She watched him through glass doors. The hospital ward was quiet, a blessing after the white noise that had shrieked through her head as the Arrangement had climbed. He was talking with one of the nurses, though about what she couldn't guess. She lay back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. After the disastrous Arrangement attempt, Ian had been tested more thoroughly and had failed as well. None of the Garcias would be gaining that extra power the easy way.
She sighed. Perhaps she preferred it this way. Hard work and effort had always been the cornerstones of the Garcias' technique, even if distraction and manipulation of the rules were their main game. They still had to be able to beat the opponents they distracted, after all.
For a moment, it felt as if someone was watching her, but when she turned her head, there was no-one there.
.
He watched her through glass doors. She sat on the steps outside the central building, cross-legged, her blade in several pieces in front of her. She lifted each of them carefully and polished them before setting them back down. He didn't leave his post for nearly an hour, observing as she took care of the blade she owned. Whilst her Arrangement may have failed, she still had a deep connection to the bey, though she did not seem capable of unleashing its constellation. Ray-type beys were sometimes more tricky to master; that she was so good with it anyway said much for her talent.
.
She watched him through glass doors. Another Arrangement. After the débâcle of her own one, she was slightly nervous about approaching this area. She could still remember the pain, and the blankness in her mind. It had been the most terrifying experience of her life. But she was drawn to him, brown-skinned moth to the flame of his eyes. Maybe he would burn her into ash. Maybe this was nothing more than the oncoming rush of her own destruction. But by the blade that she bore, she swore that she would go out in glory – and let him see her at her brightest.
.
He watched her through glass doors. She took orders from Ziggurat and obeyed them, but it was clear that she wanted more. She wanted power. He recognised that so easily. She and her three brothers had grown up with nothing, always wanting more just to get by on a day to day basis. Now that she had enough, she still wanted more. She wanted the world and everything in it, just like he did. But strangely, he didn't feel like defeating her in order to gain everything, so that he didn't have to share. Unlike her, the child of the slums who had grown up in a tiny corner of Brazil, he knew how big the world that he wanted was. He was wise enough to know that there was enough to share – if it was with the right person. The person who wanted it all just as much as he did.
Not more.
Not less.
Just as he did.
Perhaps at last he had found the one to fight alongside, rather than fight against.
.
She watched him through glass doors, and he looked straight back at her, before beckoning her inside with a single crooked finger. She hit the button on the side of the door and stepped into the wide, white-walled room.
"Doctor Ziggurat wants you at the helicopter pad in fifteen minutes," she said.
"I know." He stood gracefully. "Thank you for bringing the message."
She knew the strength of Spiral Force. The next time she spoke to him, he would be one of the princes of the new world. At least the scraps under the table might be better quality, though.
As she turned to stride away, she was surprised to find him falling into step beside her, matching her pace perfectly.
"Not as servant," he said, eyes fixed straight ahead. "As queen." And, when she looked at him in astonishment, he actually smiled. "Did you think I didn't know you were watching me ever since you arrived?"
She turned her head to look forwards again. "I knew." She hesitated for a second before adding "I knew when you were standing there too."
Their relationship had been born through transparent barriers, but they walked out onto the helipad shoulder to shoulder, the edge of his white cape flickering against her side. The world would burn before them.