Yamagi Gilmerton never considered himself as someone to disobey an order and act on his own, yet he didn't feel surprised when he did exactly that. Actually, he didn't feel anything; he was filled only with emptiness that froze all life that had ever existed inside him. First, there was a pang of unbearable pain, then burst of regret and grief, and then everything vanished, replaced by cold resolve and the sole impulse.
When the orders to retreat came up, Yamagi boarded a shuttle and left Isaribi, probably for ever. However, he didn't consider his future now; he couldn't imagine it when all his consciousness focused only on the next moment. It might very well be that there was no future for him... But no, he forbid himself to think of it and instead clutched the controls tighter, concentrating on the turbulent vacuum before him.
As he manoeuvred in the space to avoid crash with the garbage – parts of ships and mobile suits – and cursed the Nano Mirror Chaff, that made it almost impossible to see even the most familiar shape, he couldn't push away the thought that he was a big coward. Now, he couldn't forgive himself that, for fear of rejection, he'd never said those words he'd wanted to say for years, and now it might be already too late. He'd always thought it was enough he had to feel constant fear for safety of the man who was his world; if he'd had to bear also aversion or even hate, it would be too much... No, it would be the end. He understood this concern, but now it seemed unimportant, superfluous, even absurd.
The ironic part of his personality that never fell asleep mercilessly summed up a quarter of his life: 'You secretly fell in love, kept that love inside for years and never confessed it, and then it was over. Could you be even more pathetic?' And a fragment of his psyche that was hidden even deeper, the one prone to abstraction balancing on the border of madness, laughed hysterically and argued that it was very good, too, and thus there was still hope because the laws of universe were cruel: confession of feelings inevitably led to death of either lover within the next hour...
He pushed these stupid thoughts back into subconsciousness; he needed to keep his sanity, at least a bit longer. Yet, he couldn't stop thinking of the promise Shino made, and couldn't stop wondering what might follow that 'drinking until morning'. Maybe he would finally muster courage and tell him, 'I love you'...? Or maybe...
At the same time, he swore in his soul... promised to all gods of the universe that could hear him that if they save the life of that single man – the only one that mattered to him – he would bury this love more than happily and never again dream of its realisation. Not that it would differ much from what he'd had until now...
He had to find him. And he had to believe he would find him alive. Shino's last attack on the enemy flagship – Tekkadan's last hope – had failed. It seemed unfair that Shino should pay the highest price for that failure, even though every logic assumed exactly that, as well as the belief that the winner took it all and the defeated lost everything. Yet, Yamagi thought that Shino – Tekkadan's proudest fighter, who trusted his talent and skills unconditionally – had been punished enough. To live with knowledge he'd robbed his comrades of victory was worse than quick death on the battlefield, right? Right?
All these thoughts flew through his head – it was easier to focus on them than the feeling he was suffocating – while his eyes worked even harder. He was certain he'd found the spot that Shino executed his last attack from. He stopped the engine. The particles of the chaff had diffused enough to restore the visibility, though the radar still didn't work. Finally – his heart stopped for a moment – he saw the deformed shape that no-one else could recognise as Gundam Flauros... No, he corrected automatically, Ryūsei-gō IV. The unit he'd known as well as himself had been reduced to a trunk shredded with lasers. It was already more it could be – cannonade from the warships might turn every machine into a cloud of metal shards, but apparently those of Gundam Frame were able to avoid total destruction – yet not enough to raise hope.
What did raise hope was that the cockpit, despite being open and empty, didn't appear destroyed. It seemed that the fire had concentrated on the upper hatch, that had been reduced to scraps melted with the outer layer of the trunk. Yamagi looked around to grasp the horrible sight. Burned pieces of metal flew all around – he could recognise the specific parts of the machine – but then his eyes caught the floating lower hatch, whole and almost intact, and his heart started to beat faster. He moved closer and then went outside, trying to keep calm; he felt he would fall to pieces any moment, just like Ryūsei-gō not so long ago.
However, when he moved around the curvy piece of metal and saw a still figure in its recess – as if Ryūsei-gō had wished to protect his pilot until the very end – his composure vanished, turning him into a bundle of emotion.
"Shino...!"
He bit his lips, forcing himself to remain calm, though his heart didn't slow down for a second. He got to the inert body and tried to make any kind of assessment, but it was impossible. The spacesuit seemed intact, but the shield of helmet was smudgy with blood. He could only say that Shino was either unconscious or...
He returned to the ship, dragging Shino along; he didn't accept the thought it could be dead body. He didn't dare to open the spacesuit. It had been some fifteen minutes since the attack, which was both long and short time in case of critical injuries. Now, he could feel every passing second, as if the universe itself was counting the time, but he had to make sure, and thus he only kept staring at the motionless figure on the floor on the shuttle, praying for a sign and repeating Shino's name... calling him and begging for response.
And it did come when Shino's chest lifted a few millimetres to fall down again. Yamagi stifled a cry and rushed for the emergency kit, then injected the wounded pilot with the mixture of stimulants, antibiotics, anticoagulants and glucose. It was the only thing he could do to sustain life that had lasted until now. He felt he was sweating as he grasped the situation.
He was responsible for Shino's life.
Every minute mattered, and that realisation again turned his erratic thoughts into cold determination. He sat behind the controls and turned the shuttle towards the nearest Gjallarhorn ship. His formed a plan almost automatically, considering and then rejecting options in order to choose the best one. The Nano Mirror Chaff had dissipated almost entirely, which meant the communication should work, but he sent the same message with the light signal too, just to be sure; it would be the most stupid thing of his life if they were accidentally shot down now.
"Here is Tekkadan vessel. I wish to surrender. I request the permission to land and medical help in accordance with the Convention 3–9. I have a critically wounded on board. I repeat, here is Tekkadan vessel..."
He waited patiently for response, sitting still in the pilot's seat and staring at the Halfbeak class ship ahead – though he could still hear the seconds being counted by the universe – and only his hands clutched on the controls while his heart wouldn't slow down for a moment.
Finally, the response came – distorted by disturbance yet clear. And when it faded, Yamagi leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath. Feeling of relief was overwhelming.
"Thank you," he whispered in a breaking voice.
He could allow himself one moment of weakness.
Escorted by two fighters, the shuttle landed in the indicated hangar. Yamagi opened the hatch and went out with his hands up. He'd already taken the helmet off. "I am not armed," he said calmly, standing still as two soldiers inspected him. In the group surrounding him, his eyes caught a man who looked like an officer, and now he turned to him. "I surrender unconditionally. I only ask that you take care of my wounded companion. He's unconscious and requires immediate help."
"It's not an unconditional surrender," he heard the reply, but he couldn't tell if it was a reproach or just irony.
"You may do whatever you want with me, but help him," he qualified, but then his composure wavered and he added beggingly, "Please...!"
The officer seemed to hesitate, but then he nodded and gave a sign; two soldiers moved past Yamagi and entered the shuttle. Yamagi, hands still on his head, looked over his shoulder. One of the soldiers secured the situation, while the other kneeled by Shino to assess his condition. The next moment, he contacted the superior, who called for medical team.
The relief was so great it almost knocked Yamagi off his feet. He leaned against the ship and closed his eyes, caring little about the pistols aimed at him. Then, however, he looked at the officer again. "Thank you," he said and then pressed his lips together upon hearing his voice tremble.
He felt all strength had left him, but he couldn't relax yet, even less fall apart. Again, he looked at Shino, lying on the floor of the shuttle. He couldn't see his breathing, but he believed that the injection of what his organism needed most had stabilised his vital functions even a bit, and it should be enough. Gjallarhorn had the most advanced medical technology. If Shino hadn't suffered the worst, incurable damage, there was little doubt he would recover. It was all that mattered.
A few minutes later the medical team entered the hangar. Shino was moved into the capsule that would transport him to the hospital wing.
Yamagi mustered the last of his strength and walked to the unit commander, keeping his hands in front of him and pressed together in wrists. "Please, may I go with him?" he asked. "Cuff me or immobilise me however you want, but let me stay with him. I'm not going anywhere... it's the last thing I could think of. Please...!" He staggered again but managed to keep his balance.
"It is obvious you require the medical attention too," the officer said in the overly official voice and then waved at the nearest soldier. "Escort the prisoner to the hospital wing."
Yamagi bit his lips and lowered his head. He couldn't hold back tears.
He wasn't allowed into the operation room, where the staff disappeared with Shino; he was ordered to stay in the doctor's office, where he sat down on the bench by the wall with his escort standing a meter away. He felt like he'd run a long distance and used up all his strength. Even thinking seemed too demanding, so he fell into a state of numbness, half-consciousness, almost cutting himself off his surroundings. It may be that he even fell asleep for a moment.
Finally, the doctor came to first get the report from the soldier and then order Yamagi to take the suit off. He asked him a few questions about how he felt, cursorily examined his nervous system and deemed him healthy save for a slight fatigue, for which he ordered a dose of glucose.
"My companion..." Yamagi uttered when it was over. "How is he? Is he all right? Will he recover? Will..." He stopped; he felt like he would get hysterical any moment.
The doctor shifted his gaze between him and the escort soldier and then looked into the computer. "The diagnostic is still ongoing, so it's too early to say anything," he informed in a calm voice. "In an hour, we should know more. I think you should use that time and rest." He looked up at the soldier again. "Show him to the room number..."
Yamagi was certain he wouldn't sleep, but after waking up he found he really had. He couldn't remember how many days he'd been up, and stress had only made the fatigue double. Now, he no longer felt tired, or maybe it was anxiety that energised him immediately. How long had he slept? What about Shino? Could anything have happened with him being oblivious...?
He ordered himself to remain calm. Trying not to make any sudden movements that might be misinterpreted – after all, he was in the enemy territory – he got up and approached the door. Outside, he found the familiar soldier ordered to monitor him, or maybe someone else since they all had visored helmets... Ah, it wasn't important. Before he managed to ask anything – ask to see Shino – the guard told him to come along.
They didn't walk far, just some twenty or thirty meters, but even that seemed like a torture to Yamagi. He kept telling himself like a mantra that Gjallarhorn's medicine was on the highest level, but he was aware that the fear wouldn't go away until he knew. The guard showed him the door to the room, so he entered. The light was dim here, the only bright point being the machine in the centre of the room. Yamagi came closer and had to silence the cry, the name of his beloved person. In the medical capsule – bigger and more advanced he'd seen before – Shino was lying. Wired up to the monitoring equipment and on oxygen, immersed in the translucent liquid, he was unconscious; only regular beeping informed of his vitals... Yamagi clasped his fingers at the edge of the machine and only stared, taking in every detail.
Shino's face, although bruised, had colours of someone definitely alive. Yet, it was so calm that rarely happened in case of this particular man, who – contrary to Yamagi – seemed to always bristle with energy and emotions. Usually, Shino laughed a lot and easily got angered, could stare with a smug look or violently banter with others, and was first to joke or to fight. Whenever Shino was close, everyone knew about it right away, for he wouldn't stop talking and filled the whole place with his personality. It was so strange to see him so quiet, so idle, so immersed into the surroundings, though, for Yamagi, he was even now the central point that all lines of the universe converged in.
It was impossible to say anything about his wounds – everything below the clavicles was covered by the capsule – but the regular sounds of the monitor proved that at least his condition was stable. Gel enabled the nanomachines getting into his body where they could repair all possible damage. Yamagi couldn't do a thing; he could only wait for Shino to regain consciousness.
A doctor entered the room and, just like the guard before, didn't wait for questions. "Numerous fractures and internal injuries. Nothing we couldn't manage. The left arm was in pieces, and we have no idea if he will regains full mobility of it. The head injury is what is our greatest concern; he has serious concussion, at least, although the helmet protected him to a certain extent. The possible hypoxia could be dangerous, but there is no sign of this kind of damage in electrical activity of his brain. That's all we can say until he regains consciousness."
Yamagi nodded, although he wasn't much wiser now than before, and looked at Shino again. That serene expression worried him, but he wouldn't accept any other option than that Tekkadan's bravest pilot would soon again burst with enthusiasm, laugh and joke. And if not soon... Yamagi was ready to wait as long as it took.
"Thank you," he said and then, having realised something, looked at the doctor again. "Why is everyone here so good to us?" he asked helplessly and only then realised he'd spoken his thoughts aloud.
The doctor raised his brows but, before he opened his mouth, someone else answered for him. "We are not barbarians," said the officer Yamagi had already met. "Gjallarhorn will observe the Convention 3-9 and any other law."
Yamagi stared at him for a moment and was stared at by the other part. He was under the impression he saw that man for the first time. It wasn't because the soldier removed the visor, revealing quite average face of a man in his thirties; until now, Yamagi couldn't really see people around him. He'd been focused only on Shino and his safety, and terribly exhausted by the battle, when he'd had to work many days straight in constant fear and stress. It was only now that he was again able to think, put the facts together, analyse his situation; only know he could function like a normal person again. Like Yamagi Gilmerton, always vigilant, always looking. The moment of sleep had helped, too, but the most important was that Shino's condition was stable, and Yamagi felt he had all his strength back.
"That doesn't explain it," he commented the soldier's words after a longer pause, deciding not to comment the statements itself; for him, Gjallarhorn pretty often evaded laws, like during the last battle...
The officer's lips stretched with a very short smile. "I am Captain Nix Mettel, head of security of his ship," he informed, coming closer. He waved at the doctor, who left the two of them alone. "We are on the flagship of the Arianrhod Fourth Fleet." And before Yamagi managed to ask himself if it was good or bad for him, he went on, pointing at the two of them, "I wish to know who you are," and his voice was demanding.
"I am Norba Shino," Yamagi replied at once; he'd had this answer ready from the moment he'd decided to contact Gjallarhorn. "Tekkadan's pilot. We have no ranks," he added in a polite, almost apologetic tone. "My companion is Yamagi Gilmerton, a mechanic."
"A pilot?" Captain Mettel asked. "Like in 'a fighter pilot'?" His voice was indifferent, but his eyes were keen.
Yamagi nodded, withstanding his gaze.
Captain raised one corner of his lips, almost smiling again. "And even a mechanic has Alaya-Vijnana...?" he asked; he must have got this info from the doctor.
"Everyone in Tekkadan had the surgery," Yamagi replied calmly. "Such was a condition for children to work in CGS."
"How old are you, Pilot Shino?" Captain Mettel asked, ignoring that comment.
"Si... Seems like eighteen. I don't know my exact age. I lost my family very early."
Now it was Captain's brows that were raised up. "Sixteen," he said with a slight irony. "I wouldn't give you more."
"If you say so, Captain," Yamagi replied coolly, although he was pretty shaken inside. How could he make such a mistake right at the beginning?
"Could you tell me, Pilot Shino, how did it happen that you decided to visit this ship?" came another question. "And with your mechanic...? Do you always fly in pairs?"
Yamagi wouldn't allow himself to be distracted by the – completely needless now – memory of that fight on Mars when he had indeed happened together with Shino in the cockpit... He had this answer ready too. "My unit's system crashed, and I couldn't move. I was close enough to Hotarubi... that is, our ship... that I could get help. Yet, mechanic was injured during the firing that destroyed both my unit and Hotarubi. I was miraculously saved, as was the shuttle."
Captain Mettel was silent for a moment; he probably analysed the story he'd just heard. When he spoke again, however, his words surprised Yamagi. "I heard that Tekkadan's members were young, but it's a different thing to actually see we were fighting children," he stated, and there were reserve and clear discontent in his voice; he was no longer smiling.
Yamagi didn't comment – he didn't know what to say – he only lowered his head, and his hand clutched at the edge of the capsule. "Once again, let me thank you for the help you provided to us. Especially that you must have enough of your own wounded." It was only when he'd said it he realised it could be interpreted as a sign of conceit.
Captain Mettel grunted, "And that's because of you, no-one else." However, he didn't seem angry, at least not with Yamagi, as he added right away, "I've no idea why McGillis Fareed involved civilians in his rebellion, damn him."
The silence fell in the room, disrupted only by the regular beeping of the monitors. Yamagi looked at Shino's calm face again. He wondered distractedly how Shino would hold this conversation. But, knowing him, there would be no conversation at all. He almost smiled at the thought.
"I think you should eat something and rest some more," he heard Captain's voice; he'd managed to forget about the man already, which he rebuked himself for.
He realised he hadn't received the answer to his first question. Before he could ask it again, however, Nix Mettel left the room, leaving him alone with unconscious Shino.
When Yamagi swapped their names, he was of course driven by concern of Shino's safety. He thought that giving false names was too risky as Gjallarhorn, if anything, could have a list of the members, and the best lies are those close to the truth. Even if they were photographed in order to verify if they were indeed pilot Norba Shino and mechanic Yamagi Gilmerton – for example the image might be sent to Tekkadan to persuade the organisation into the capitulation – the answer would be correct if they happened in the photo together; that was why he decided he wouldn't leave Shino's side again. It was beyond doubt they were being watched. In any case, he was certain that a mechanic would meet with a more lenient treatment than a pilot of a mobile suit, and if he were lucky, he would be able to get Shino away unhurt. He didn't have any plan for this yet, but he would still make it.
There was one more reason for that imposture, one so private – and, at the same time, so childish – he wouldn't reveal it to anyone. In addition to everything else, Shino was his idol, though this word didn't really cover it. Shino wasn't someone he wanted to copy; he was someone Yamagi wanted to be himself. He was everything Yamagi wasn't and knew he would never be, for they were as different as day and night. Shino was strong, brave and, above all, self-confident – so much he could conquer the world. Yamagi was his total opposite: weakling and coward, and a dummy probably considered as an antisocial person by many. Also, he hardly had any faith in himself – maybe just a bit in his skills – and generally felt better when the world didn't see him.
Hence there was something exciting – some sinful pleasure – when, just for a moment and for appearance's sake, he could become that Shino he admired. He could become a hero. Maybe he naively believed – which he wouldn't admit aloud – that he could seize at least a bit of those traits that were normally beyond his reach. He wondered what Shino would think of it... He would probably burst into laughter, puff out his chest with pride and say he could easily understand it. And maybe he would put his hand on Yamagi's head again and tousled his hair...
Yamagi sat down on the floor, his back against the medical capsule. He pulled his knees up and put the arms around them. A sudden memory of those last moments together threw him off balance. He wanted to believe that those moments would have the continuation, now that Shino was saved – that there was a bridge connecting the past and the future – but his inner pessimist more than happily offered new scenarios how everything could go bad, and not even between the two of them. The truth was Yamagi had deliberately brought them into the enemy hands. Sure, he hadn't had the choice – Gjallarhorn's advanced medical technology was Shino's only hope – but it could as well be that only execution awaited them here. And even though he'd thought before he would rather die with Shino than live without him, what he wished the most for was that Shino lived.
Everything depended on him.
He pressed his lips together and got up. He couldn't show any weakness. Battle for Shino's life hadn't yet ended. And even though common sense kept telling him the enemy wouldn't heal them only to condemn them to death later, he had to stay alert.
Because Yamagi refused to leave Shino's room – or, rather, didn't react to any suggestions to do so – a chair-bed was brought in, followed by a small table that the meals were regularly provided onto. Stressed as he was, he didn't have any appetite, but he knew he had to eat in order to keep up his physical strength; mere mental strength – despite stress, he was also euphoric, which seemed quite a strange combination – wouldn't be enough. From time to time, he fell into short naps, although he didn't like it; he wanted to be awake all the time. He was also given some clothes, and the adjacent bathroom answered all his hygienic needs.
He was focused on Shino, but he also paid attention to his surroundings. The guard had vanished from his sight some time ago; maybe Captain Mettel had believed Yamagi's intention to not leave here. It seemed as if everyone had forgot about him: as if he weren't an enemy only a part of this ship and he should be treated as such. He surely was being watched via surveillance cameras, but he probably wasn't considered a threat. Occasionally, a doctor would enter the room and check Shino's condition, but in general the two of them were left alone. Yamagi did everything he could to stay vigilant, but regular beeping and soft light were so calming, especially after the battle that had overwhelmed all senses with constant noise, sudden flashes, unexpected shaking of the deck, feeling of danger... Now he was under the impression he could rest, and his psyche slowly regained stability – on the enemy ship, of all places...! He told himself he needed it; he was responsible for Shino and had to do his best, so getting rested and regaining his mental balance was crucial. He knew their battle had just started.
For some time, the ship had been moving at a steady peace, and the atmosphere in the hospital wing was peaceful. It seemed that the battle was over, but Yamagi had no idea about its outcome. Tekkadan's defeat was inevitable, but had they managed to get away? The last order issued on Isaribi was to retreat...
Yamagi realised he hadn't spared much thought for his companions – people, he'd spent almost all his life with... However, before he managed to mull over it, he was again visited by Captain Mettel.
"What is the situation? Has the war ended?" he asked the man directly.
"Why do you think I would share this information with you?" there was a surprise in Captain's voice.
"According to Convention 3-9, the war prisoners have right to information if it doesn't endanger the other side. I don't think I pose any threat to you in this situation."
Captain Mettel gave him that crooked smile of his. "I see you know your rights, Pilot Shino."
Yamagi pointed at a file of sheets on the table. Kūdelia Aina Bernstein had caused a lot of chaos in life of Tekkadan – then still the Third Group of CGS – but he was grateful for the lessons she'd given them. She'd taught not only how to write and read, but also given the lectures on many subjects she considered to be a necessary knowledge for anyone, like international law, and he'd even happened to participate in several of them when he'd had no work.
"I asked for the text to read it. Before, I only knew about it."
Now Captain Mettel laughed openly. He entered the room and sat down on the chair. Yamagi noticed he'd removed his helmet this time. He had black, slightly wavy hair, and his face was rather slim than round, and quite pleasant when he smiled, but his dark eyes were constantly focused and sharp. Vigilance and intelligence were required of the man of his position.
"The battle is over, the war not yet," he said outright. "Our side has advantage. McGillis Fareed and Tekkadan retreated to Mars, and Gjallarhorn is debating the next moves. I'm afraid the supreme commander, Admiral Rustal Elion, will push for the frontal attack. He is determined to make Tekkadan the official enemy of Gjallarhorn and destroy it as the ally of McGillis Fareed, along with the latter one."
Yamagi thought he should be more shocked, but some part of him had already known that the fight was for the largest possible stakes. It wasn't for a show that the enemy had sent his most powerful fleet, and the battle that had just taken place on the Earth orbit was the best proof of the antagonism Gjallarhorn had for Tekkadan, focusing its most destructive power on them.
"You're going to kill us?" he asked and was surprised upon hearing how calm his voice was.
Captain Mettel winced. "No decision has been made yet. Many commanders oppose such a plan, saying it is incompatible with the dignity of Gjallarhorn. Even though McGillis Fareed managed to flee, his faction was destroyed. Except for Tekkadan, he's alone. He doesn't have the slightest chance for victory, if he ever had... In any case, further fight would be only a revenge, an unnecessary massacre."
"But it is Rustal Elion who will have the final word," Yamagi said in a whisper. "And he is an unscrupulous man, right?"
Captain Mettel didn't answer, which was an answer on its own. Yamagi clenched his fists to stop them from shaking. If Rustal Elion decided to destroy Tekkadan, it would mean there was no hope for him and Shino. Convention 3-9 or not, they would be judged the war criminals and executed.
It was really beyond Yamagi how someone could hate another so much to wish for their complete demise. Himself, he wasn't capable of hate. Actually, he wasn't capable of any feeling... except for that one he had for Shino, and it was so violent it compensated for the whole emotional coldness he had for everyone else... Ah, it didn't matter now, he rebuked himself in his thought and focused on the present again.
Well, maybe it wasn't about hate, only politics. Maybe it was about the principle. Someone had to be guilty and be punished, and Tekkadan had moved against the maintaining law and order organisation. Of course it was the blow against Gjallarhorn's dignity and called for retribution; that was how Rustal Elion must have undoubtedly think. Tekkadan would be an example. It was essential to show what would happen to someone who wished to raise a hand against Gjallarhorn's good name. They had to use all their strength and destroy the opponent.
But... to destroy Tekkadan? From a human standpoint, it really seemed like an unnecessary massacre, just like Captain Mettel had said. Sure, Tekkadan was guilty for having allied with McGillis Fareed, but they were just a civilian organisation with no political significance. To make them a scapegoat seemed simply unjust.
"Let's hope Orga... I mean, our leader will agree to surrender," he said aloud what he'd just thought. "He will surely do so, he want everyone to live. You may even try and use the two of us..."
Before, he'd thought it was all the same what happened to Tekkadan – they had abandoned Shino, and it was something he couldn't forgive, no matter the situation – but now he was terrified that people he'd spent most of his life with could be murdered to the last one. So, if it could save Tekkadan, he was ready to become that bad one who'd given himself to the enemy and, as a hostage, put a pressure on his companions.
He looked at Captain Mettel with new hope that died immediately when he saw the officer's stern expression. He understood at once. "Rustal Elion wouldn't accept capitulation," he whispered. "That's what you want to tell me, Captain?"
Captain Mettel averted his eyes, then got up in a swift move and made it for the door. "No decision has been made yet," he repeated his earlier words, but Yamagi couldn't hear any real confidence in them.
Yamagi was serious when he'd suggested that Gjallarhorn used them as hostages to force Tekkadan into capitulation. He'd been aware from the start that something like that could happen, and regardless of his will, too, but earlier it wouldn't evoke any emotions in him. For Shino, he was ready to sacrifice everything, even Tekkadan, for Tekkadan had sacrificed Shino to survive. Now, however, when lives of people he'd considered his friends for so long were at stake, he could no longer feel indifferent. Maybe he wasn't as bad person as he'd always believed...
But the situation was hopeless. As a born pessimist, Yamagi didn't sunk into despair; he rather accepted it with silent resignation. Own death didn't seem like a tragedy if he were to die by Shino's side. And even though such thoughts were bad, he even tried to find some consolation in it: he wouldn't have to live with the burden of hate... well, at least dislike that Shino's fondness would undoubtedly turn into once he knew of Yamagi's feelings. Well, it was pretty hard to imagine that cordial Shino, who seemed to love everyone in Tekkadan – even though the way he showed it was sometimes rough or even painful – to turn on Yamagi and end their friendship, but it was certain that any spontaneity would be gone from their relationship.
As much as he dreamed of it, Yamagi was entirely sure that Shino would never return his feelings, so learning about them would undoubtedly make him uncomfortable. There wasn't the slightest chance that Shino – who happily indulged himself in paid love and then bragged about his escapades with women without any restraint – could be interested in men or even think of getting into any intimate relationship with another guy. Period. That was the reason why Yamagi had kept quiet about his love for all these years. Now that the end was near, he would finally be able to confess.
No, when he looked at the situation from this perspective, it didn't seem tragic at all.
For now, however, he mostly looked at Shino's face; it was much better than futile deliberations on the hopeless state of things. He spent most of his time by the medical machine, staring at his unconscious friend. He didn't feel bored at all – quite the contrary, for the first time in his life he could look at Shino as much as he could. Until now, he would only shoot sideways glances, observing him only from afar and avoiding the eye contact. He'd been scared Shino would see in his eyes what he couldn't reveal. Now he had hours, days even, to absorb his image (and, at the same time, see the fast healing that happened in Shino owing to the nanomachines: most bruises had already faded, the swelling was gone, and there were only thin, barely visible red lines where the skin had been cut – all that in just two days!) Long face, mouth apt to laughter, eyes – now closed – that usually shone with various emotions. Even pierced ears seemed extremely attractive to Yamagi. How long had he dreamt he could move his hands up Shino's neck, touch these ears and then shove his fingers into that ruffled hair and find out if it wasn't softer it always seemed... Sometimes, in a fit of hopeless and untypical optimism, he believed Shino would let him instead of pushing him away or punching him.
At first, whenever he'd had such fantasies, he couldn't show himself before Shino for two, three days. With time, he'd learned to perfectly control his expression, which would prove useful – and necessary – when he'd made himself his personal mechanic and tended to all machines the ace of Tekkadan piloted. Shino would never believe if he knew what kind of thoughts his mechanic had engage in during work... Only in the last two years, when their co-operation had got even closer – in situations demanding physical contact – Yamagi had had to be very careful. The moments he'd spent with Shino in the cockpit – sometimes even sitting on his lap! – were a torture. It'd required all his restraint to not fling himself at Shino and do something improper... no, to not even think of such things, otherwise Shino would realise it. After all, Yamagi was a perfectly normal teenager, at least physiology-wise...
"You're going to wear yourself out with worry," his thought were interrupted by familiar voice of Captain Mettel. "I see why you may feel guilty-"
"To me, it looks more like a girl over her beloved one," another voice cut in unceremoniously, one Yamagi hadn't heard before.
"In Tekkadan, we're free to love whomever we want," he replied without thinking, raising his eyes upon the arrivals. The next words, however, he added deliberately and even teasingly, "You are not in Gjallarhorn?"
To his unexpected satisfaction, the complacent expression of the unknown soldier faded, replaced by an utter bewilderment, while Captain Mettel burst out laughing.
"A point for Pilot Shino," he said, clearly amused. "This is my deputy, Lieutenant Brennan Starnord. He's got a big mouth, you must forgive him."
Yamagi stared at the Lieutenant, who apparently tried to assume a more natural expression and even smiled, which, as he learned later, was his natural expression. "There's nothing to forgive," he replied calmly, even with some dignity, never taking his eyes off the man. Then, however, he squinted slightly. "Except that I'm not a girl."
"That's what I meant," Captain Mettel said without hesitation.
"I didn't mean anything wrong!" Lieutenant Starnord raised his hands in his defence, though he didn't really seem very remorseful. "It was the opposite, I only commented-"
"All right, that's enough, Bren," Captain Mettel cut him short. "We're not interested in your personal views. We are on duty, so let's try to present at least a semblance of professionalism. Especially in this situation."
That remark brought an expected result; Lieutenant Starnord got serious and didn't say any more.
"In this situation..." Yamagi repeated in a low voice, feeling cold. "Have our execution already been decided?"
Captain, who had just sat down on the chair – Lieutenant had leaned on the door frame – looked at him with a surprise. "Gods, no!" he exclaimed. "I only meant the general circumstances, nothing else. It's true that Admiral Elion left for Mars to," he winced, "bring this war to the end he would be pleased with. He took only some forces with him. Our Fourth Fleet has returned to the base, which made our commander very happy, as he's opposed this operation from the very start."
"Hey," Lieutenant Starnord uttered, his voice was hesitating. "You talk too much, Nix..."
"It's not a military secret," Captain Mettel retorted, never taking eyes off Yamagi. "Pilot Shino would learn it from anyone on this ship he would ask. Besides, this matter concerns him personally, so I want to be honest."
Lieutenant Starnord chose not to pursue the topic; he brushed a lock of brown hair off his forehead and seemed to be sulking, but it could be just a pose. Yamagi shifted his gaze between the two officers and, for all his stress, couldn't resist the impression they must've known each other for a long time and understand each other well. Lieutenant seemed a bit younger, but maybe it was because of his behaviour, marked by extravagant and probably faked emotions. All it took was to look in his yellow-speckled, green eyes and see the shadow of smile lurking behind apparent seriousness.
"Returning to the main problem," he said briskly; he'd already discarded the pretence of indignation. "Maybe if you proved to be the deserters wishing to join us, you would avoid the unpleasantness?" he suggested.
Yamagi blinked, confused by the offer. Deserters? Actually, it was pretty much correct in his case, but Shino was the last one to leave Tekkadan. Besides... Deserters to Gjallarhorn? It was something even Yamagi, whose attachment to his organisation wasn't strong, wouldn't accept, not when the very same Gjallarhorn was currently doing everything to bring Tekkadan to complete annihilation. And he still had enough respect to himself to not even think of saving himself at the expense of his friends. Such thing would be a betrayal, and even he wasn't such a low person.
"Bren, you forget that they are not soldiers," Captain Mettel pointed out, even before Yamagi shook his head to refuse the offer. "They don't belong to any army, so they can't desert from it to another."
"That's true, but they could join us anyway. We could only benefit from such pilots," Lieutenant Starnord noticed. "A group of kids succeeded in waging a war against Arianrhod, if even for a short period of time. It proves something, and I doubt it proves our lack of talent."
"Bren is known for occasionally saying something nice," his superior informed Yamagi.
"Occasionally?!" Lieutenant exclaimed with indignation that didn't seem faked this time.
"I'm not going to join Gjallarhorn," Yamagi stated when he finally managed to speak.
Captain Mettel nodded. "Then, tell me, Pilot Shino, what it is that you are going to do," he asked. "What do you plan to do in the future?"
"Assuming that I have some future ahead of me, not execution?" Yamagi made sure, amazed that he was able to speak so calmly.
Captain Mettel frowned again; even his deputy seemed confounded. "Why are you so obsessed with execution?"
"I prefer to expect the worse when in custody of the organisation determined to destroy mine."
"It's not funny," Lieutenant said.
"It wasn't supposed to be."
"Putting aside funny things or not, could you answer me?" Captain Mettel asked.
Yamagi nodded; Captain deserved as much. But when he thought hard about it, he realised he couldn't give any answer. Putting aside possible execution or not... Future was unknown, something it was no use planning. He could take care of the future once he got to it. His life was based on being here and now, on focusing on the present and on what he could do. He'd never head full control... full freedom to decide for himself. Dreams and fantasies were one thing, but goals and decisions leading to them were quite another.
"I... can't answer that," he uttered with anguish; he knew there was no reason that they believed him.
Captain Mettel observed him closely. "Then, I'm going to ask in a different way. Do you plan to go back to Tekkadan and continue this war with more powerful enemy, meddle in the world's politics and disrupt the order everyone wishes for?"
Yamagi stared at him as if he'd seen him for the first time in his life. Captain Mettel looked him in the eye and waited calmly for his answer. He was smiling benignly, as if what he'd just said were only a joke, while in reality it was probably the most important thing that could happen in their conversation. Lieutenant Starnord in the background was wearing a tense expression.
Yamagi shook his head. "Tekkadan never planned to meddle in politics," he said helplessly. "We wanted to be a security company, yet for some reason we got into open war with Gjallarhorn. I don't believe anyone of us wished for what happened. The events simply overcame us. Our leader acted only in our best interest... wished to secure our position, but the decision he made only leaded to our ruin. No-one really wished for that," he repeated.
He blinked; his eyes stung. Captain Mettel's face got blurred, and he lowered his head. "It's not that I think we are victims of injustice, or that we were manipulated..." In his thoughts appeared beautiful and so cold face of McGillis Fareed. "Well, maybe a bit. But the decisions were ours, and thus we are responsible for what happened. But it also seems like some terrible accident... What happened didn't result from our bad will or subversive ideology... Our organisation is a family, and we simply wanted to stay together... so we went down together. We followed our leader... but not because we were ordered to do so. No, doing so was a natural thing for us. We were a family," he repeated in a strangled voice and wiped his eyes.
He realised his speech was chaotic. Could anyone even understand him? But he couldn't stop now. He took a moment to get his voice under control, and once he was certain he could speak again, he went on, albeit very softly, "Tekkadan won't last as such. And even if some miracle happens, I can't go back. But it won't. Our only chance is to vanish and start new life. To find our own families since we had to leave the one that we've had until now. That family has once saved every of us, but now we must save us ourselves and grow up. We have sufficient skills to manage. We are mechanics, pilots, we know how to use weapons and even do business. We may be drivers, machine operators, or bodyguards. We'll get jobs in industry or service sector, or trade. We will manage." He raised his eyes on Captain. He felt very tired.
"Would your friend say the same thing?" he heard another question.
Yamagi thought about it and then nodded. "If not, I'm going to convince him," he vouched. "Are you satisfied with this answer?"
Captain Mettel nodded. "Perfectly," he responded shortly, then suddenly got up and waved at his deputy before heading for the door. "Ah, I heard your friend is going to leave the medical machine tomorrow," he said from the door and then even smiled. "It's a good news, isn't it?"
During the hour of the conversation, the last traces of injury had vanished from Shino's face. The internal organs probably healed at a slower pace, but it was beyond doubt that Shino's body was quickly getting better. Cut off from the external stimuli, Yamagi had lost track of time, but it seemed to him the two of them had been on the Gjallarhorn's ship no longer than three days. He was happy with such a fast recovery, but Shino was still unconscious. The doctor assured that the tests don't indicate any brain damage, so regaining his senses was pretty certain, yet Yamagi was concerned. Shino, who had been lying down peacefully and out of touch for several days already, proved that something was really wrong with the world. It was high time that he opened his eyes and filled with that incredible energy he usually radiated... that he got up and got back to himself: a man who seemed to appear in several places at once and always knew what happened around him.
After talking to Captain Mettel and Lieutenant Starnord, Yamagi felt exhausted, but later he realised that conversation had influenced his approach a bit. He still wouldn't dare to forget about the execution, but Captain's question about the future – the question he couldn't quite answer yet he had – had given him some frames. It'd left him with some vision, even if it was still rather clouded. Just like he'd said: everyone in Tekkadan had skills to manage in life. As for himself, he undoubtedly would see himself as a mechanic in a small machine shop. He knew he had still much to learn, but he'd already had four years of work experience.
Four years... Such was also his experience in love... though it was one-sided, so maybe it didn't really count as an experience, as his ironic mind quickly reminded.
Yamagi always felt as if his life had started that day when he'd fallen in love with Shino. From his first years of life, only a few blurred images of violence were left; he didn't really want to remember that. Then came CGS, but the memories of that was also filled with feeling of insecurity, discipline given by heavy hand of superiors, and constant harassment he'd endured from older and stronger members. Yamagi, slightly-built as he was, had always looked much younger he really was; when twelve, no-one would give him more than ten. What was worse, with those delicate features, he'd even more misfit his mates who'd tried to prove their manhood in every possible way, usually brutal. On top of that, his quiet and calm disposition made him a perfect object of persecution: taunts in the best and physical abuse in the worst case. 'Girl' was the mildest name he could hear that time.
Norba Shino was the first to have noticed his misery – noticed and reacted. Shino, who'd believed in his strength, had found it natural one had had to control it. He wouldn't accept the stronger bullying the weaker; on the contrary, it was what he'd consider a weakness. It wasn't wrong to challenge the stronger, since he could get stronger himself – that was why he would always be bruised – and he'd accepted even beating from the older guys with a competitive spirit, never letting anyone shake his ego, but he'd also realised that what was a chance do grow for him, might be a torture for someone else. Shino had his honour, and it'd made him good and just even when he'd been only fourteen, though he'd looked older than sixteen.
So, that strong Shino had noticed weak Yamagi and decided to change his situation, and had found the best solution: shifting Yamagi to maintenance team. Physical strength was useful for a mechanic, but brains and good hands were even more important. Then again, even the rashest brutal would think twice before getting on Old Man Yukinojō's bad side when trying to raise a hand on one of his workers. That way, everyone would be happy: Yukinojō had gotten a skilled and grateful helper, Shino could be happy with having done the right thing, and Yamagi had found his place, security and first people he could trust in his life.
His feeling for Shino, then, was composed of gratitude, admiration and many more emotions he didn't even try to analyse. For him, Shino was a sun that had ended the night that had lasted for so long he could no longer remember the day preceding it. Sometimes, when he'd wished to be especially romantic, he would tell himself it was a destiny; he hadn't deserved the help and attention he'd got, so there must have been some greater force at work. Especially that Shino hadn't ended their friendship with putting him in Yukinojō's care; rather, he'd decided Yamagi to be his protégé and bestowed unconditional fondness on him. It'd been pretty hard for Yamagi to accept it – since he'd always thought of himself as worthless, he'd had a massive inferiority complex – but on the other hand, he'd been immensely happy; after all, could there be anything better than being able to spend time with someone you loved and admired? With time, he'd come to accept Shino's company as something natural and slowly learned to smile. He'd learn to believe in himself just a bit and value his skills, at least. He couldn't offer Shino anything else, so he wished to prove himself as his mechanic, tending to his machines as well as he could.
Sometimes – in moments of deepest despair bordering on absurd – he'd almost wish he'd been a girl, just like he'd been called one before, but it was really just an abstraction. He had no idea what it meant to be a girl, spare for anatomical differences. He was who he was; there was no other option for him, no other possibility, and it was utterly pointless to dwell on it.
The next day, Shino was really moved from the medical capsule to normal bed. Well, not really normal: it was a capsule, too, only without any devices or fluid. The doctors had decided that all serious injuries were healed and there was no longer need for nanomachines; likewise, there was no need to monitor Shino's vitals. The only thing he still needed was nutrition, and it was provided with giving him high-energy solution once per day. Yamagi couldn't believe the quick pace it had all happened at – and congratulated himself on the idea to ask Gjallarhorn for help. All that was left was that Shino opened his eyes, and Yamagi's happiness would be complete, no matter what awaited them after that. For now, he found comfort in being able to sit by his side and hold his hand, and whisper all words of encouragement he could call up to bring him back.
Later that day, Captain Mettel visited him with his deputy. The former remained politely professional, while the latter seemed absurdly touched by the sight of Yamagi by Shino's bed and holding his hand. Yamagi decided that Lieutenant Starnord was a strange man.
However, if he thought that the day's limit for strange things had been filled up, it turn out to be the greatest misjudgement he'd even made, and he learned about it the when Captain Mettel announced without further ado, "Today the two of you leave this ship, and wherever you go, I wish you all the best."
For the next half a minute Yamagi could only stare at him, trying to comprehend those words, and failing miserably, for it just wouldn't relate to execution or any other punishment. "I don't understand," he uttered in the end.
"I was authorised to handle your case by my commander at the very beginning, and the order still stands," Captain Mettel said. "I am the only person to decide about your fate, and this is the decision I made. There is no reason why you wouldn't be allowed to leave our ship. You are released. I don't consider you war prisoners. You are civilians who we took on board during the battle. You pose no threat either to Gjallarhorn or to the general order. Even if you belonged to the organisation that entered into conflict with ours, there is no legal basis for detaining you."
Yamagi opened his mouth but closed it again before saying, 'But execution...?' He couldn't make a bigger fool of himself he already had, and instead he focused on what he'd just heard.
No legal basis...? Released...? All the best...? He tried to process it, but he couldn't gather his thoughts; he felt as if he'd just fell into a different reality. Dumbfounded, he could only shift his eyes between the two officers and hope for some kind of explanation.
Lieutenant Starnord smiled widely, then showed him a thumb-up and said merrily, "Congratulations!"
"I only suggest that you don't delay you leave," Captain Mettel added in a voice that now rang with more emotions than a moment ago. "Everyone of us would find it deplorable if the new instructions came in the meantime... for example, from Admiral Elion from the headquarters."
Yamagi stirred. "But... Why?" he asked helplessly before getting a grip on himself. "I doesn't mean I would prefer execution. I just... wish to know."
The two officers exchanged looks. Lieutenant Starnord closed the door in a nonchalant move.
"Our admiral, I mean the commander of the Fourth Fleet, is not a radical. Quite the contrary, he considers himself a humanist," Captain Mettel said in a lower tone. "It is likely that like-minded people gathered under his flag. Waging a war against children is something that opposes his ideals, and not only his. He's been very displeased with this campaign from the beginning, and your coming here only worsened his mood. He ordered me to handle your case with utmost discretion, and wanted to hear no more of it. Of course, no-one would ever think of any execution... except for you, and I apologise for not having corrected that belief."
He smiled with a corner of his lips but then quickly got serious again. "I'm going to be frank with you, just like you were frank with me yesterday, Pilot Shino. Meeting you was a shock to me. We were aware that McGillis Fareed involved an organisation of young people into his rebellion, but... When you see only ships and mobile units, it is easy to forget who pilots them. But once you came face-to-face with children from those ships and mobile suits, you can no longer close your eyes. I told you at the beginning that Gjallarhorn abides by the law in order to keep peace. Execution of the civilians, especially juvenile, is contrary to this or any moral principles. It is evil, no matter the arguments. It is true you made wrong decisions that resulted in many tragedies, but there are no people who don't make mistakes, neither we consider ourselves as such. Bloodshed is not a solution. Many believe that this time Admiral Elion have gone too far in defending Gjallarhorn's position, while normally he is a wise, clearheaded man, and thirst for power or abuse of it are the last things that could be attributed to him. Hopefully, after this deplorable incident he will continue his moderate politics." He shook his head. "But it's not Rustal Elion we're supposed to talk about, only your situation. We'll see to it that your friend gets safely to your shuttle. Well, it's easy: you're going to take this capsule, it is mobile. You can pilot the ship, right?"
Yamagi nodded, giving his best to focus. He could grasp maybe every other sentence, for he was still felt terribly overwhelmed by what he'd heard at the beginning, and he still couldn't believe it. He expected someone say, 'It was only a joke,' any moment.
Captain Mettel, however, continued, "The only information recorded in our system is of the civilian ship having shortly docked here, but it's details are missing, maybe duo to some error, as such things unfortunately happens. The only people knowing about your staying here are our commander, communications officer that answered your call, medical team and we of the security. The chance that anyone outside this ship knows about you is minimal, even lesser that it would occur to anyone to make an inspection, but we can never be completely sure."
Yamagi kept staring at him, speechless.
"I'm not going to suggest you any destination, I only advise against going to Mars," Captain went on. "We have already entered a clearance code into your computer. It will give you unlimited right to use all routes and land on all places under Gjallarhorn's jurisdiction. You must only transmit it to the border control or anyone who would demand it." He took a flat object out of his belt. "Here is compensation for keeping you on our ship for entire week without legal basis. It should be enough for accommodation, board and basic expenses for a period of two weeks. It's a normal payment card with no data except for funds." He said the amount.
Yamagi looked at him in disbelief, at the same time trying to ignore the nagging thought, 'A week? We've spent a whole week here?' "But you've already provided us with everything... food, medical assistance... everything. What compensation?" he stuttered.
"It's a standard procedure," Captain Mettel said in a calm voice. "As for the services we've provided the two of you, Convention 3-9 guarantees them. They would be provided regardless of the decision as to your fate."
Yamagi remained silent, trying to put himself together in this unexpected situation. It finally started to sink in what had happened. And what would happen next.
They had to leave this ship. They would leave it. He and Shino. This thought helped him to finally focus his attention. He was responsible for Shino. He had to make everything to ensure his safety, find him a place to recover... He had to use all means, all help; it was obvious.
He lifted his hand – it was trembling – and took the card from Captain's fingers. He was rewarded with a short smile of approval.
"After that, it's up to you to take care of yourselves," Captain said. "Unfortunately, we cannot guarantee you any further assistance. It will be best for you to lose connection with us... to fall off Gjallarhorn's radar. We never know when Rustal Elion is going to issue an order to place every member of Tekkadan under arrest on the charge of kind or another. Fortunately, the law doesn't work backward, and during your stay here you were only civilians with no charges presented," he stressed out. "In any case, the less we know about your possible location, the better."
"But maybe we happen to run into each other one day as good friends...?" Lieutenant Starnord suggested in an undertone from his spot by the door.
"Gods, Bren..." Captain Mettel looked at him over his shoulder. "Could you be serious just for five minutes?"
"They've already passed."
Captain Mettel sighed in a theatrical manner. "I apologise for that comic relief," he muttered, his thumb pointing backwards, and looked at Yamagi again. "But it is true that Lieutenant Starnord offered his full support for this plan and helped me reach the decision."
Yamagi glanced at Lieutenant, who was radiating self-complacency, and then lowered his head, letting the hair cover his eyes. He grabbed Shino's hand again and squeezed it. "I... thank you," he whispered. "We'll be fine. In two weeks, Shi... He will get on his feet, and I'll be able to go to work. I may even sell the ship; it would provide us with money for a living. I'm certain we'll manage. I really... I really thank you."
He could say no more; he's throat clenched, and he knew it was because of this feeling of gratitude he hadn't been prepared for, along with feeling of guilt. How come he hadn't noticed that the two officers had been doing everything to ensure Shino's and his safety, now and later? Well, maybe he'd known that, unconsciously. Upon coming here he'd been so confident, so certain he would remain calm in any situation, wouldn't show even a single emotion, and his every word would aim at confusing the opponent. But once he'd been here, this one thing had lacked: feeling that he'd been surrounded by enemies that would keep his attention on a high level and guarantee constant vigilance. It explained why he'd kept making mistakes and falling out of his role, kept getting distracted and unintentionally telling the truth.
Now it was perfectly clear to him that from the very beginning Captain Mettel had been trying to find a solution that would benefit, first and foremost, Yamagi and Shino. Yamagi had expected enemies but met just people. He knew he wouldn't find right words to thank them enough, nor would he ever be able to repay the kindness he'd been bestowed on.
Barely audible moan interrupted the silence, and the fingers he's been squeezing in his hands – way too hard, as he suddenly realised upon seeing they were blue – moved slightly. His eyes round, he stared at Shino's face to see the eyelids twitching. No other reaction came; rising up from the deep unconsciousness had lasted only a moment, but that moment helped himself get out of daze he'd been in for the last half an hour. It was as if life had started to move forward again after a short stop, and the terrible load that had been crushing his shoulders for many days – at least, since that nightmarish battle had started – had eased so that he could now bear it.
He gently put Shino's arm down on the bed – doing so, he brushed the back of his hand with his fingers – then straightened up and raised his eyes. He walked up to Captain Mettel and stretched his hand. "The truth is I wasn't honest with you, Captain," he said softly but resolutely. "Not with everything, and I hope you would forgive me. I am Yamagi Gilmerton, and my friend is Norba Shino."
Captain Mettel shook his hand... and then lifted it and turn it palm up in order to have a better look at it. He didn't seem a bit surprised. "Brave, sixteen years old mechanic who saved his pilot, not the other way around?" he asked with his crooked smile, letting go of his hand with traces of grease in the palm lines and calluses typical of a person using tools that had appeared there before its owner had learned to work in gloves.
"Not the other way round."
"And the rest?"
Over his shoulder, Yamagi glanced at Shino, who'd sunk into unconsciousness again, before returning his eyes to Captain Mettel. He smiled.
"The rest remains valid."