Lies Between Friends and Lovers
Chapter 32

Wufei delayed his departure to space for another 48 hours while he waited to see whether or not Une would take any action after reading his report. He had hoped that she would try to bring about a change in policy concerning conditions on L2, either publicly or within the peace-keeping organization. To his disappointment there had been nothing in the news nor within Preventer circles to indicate any action of that sort had been taken. He could only suppose that her superiors had ordered her to keep the contents of his report sealed, for reasons he would probably never learn. The only up side had been that he hadn't been formally reprimanded for his report nor demoted.

Feeling a mixture of anger and disappointment, he packed his bags, locked his apartment and once again took the short taxi ride to the spaceport. He contacted Quatre and Trowa on his way there to inform them that he would be returning to L4 and wondered if they would be willing to accommodate him. He was weary of sterile hotel rooms and eating alone in restaurants. His friends', together on the speaker phone, enthusiastically replied that he was always welcome to stay with them, and that someone would pick him up at the spaceport. Wufei ended the call wearing a smile and thinking how pleasant it was knowing that someone actually looked forward to his arrival with genuine enthusiasm.

The flight seemed to take longer than ever, with several fussing children on board airing their complaints about space travel rather loudly. He thought that everyone on board the ship must have been as relieved as he was when the shuttle finally docked on L4. A glance at his watch showed the time to be approximately two p.m., colony time. He collected his bag and proceeded to the front terminal, where he was surprised to be met by Quatre and not Trowa or one of their hired staff.

"Welcome back, Wufei. I'm so glad you asked to stay with us," Quatre said with a pleasant grin before giving the Preventer agent a warm embrace.

"I'm surprised that you could tear yourself away from your office in the middle of the day," Wufei said as he scanned the immediate area. "Where's Trowa?"

Taking his arm, Quatre led him out of the busy terminal as he answered. "He's working on a computer problem at the office. Unless it turns out to be quite serious, he should be finished in time to join us for a late dinner."

As they rode together in Quatre's white, rather stylish commuter car through the city and towards the large home he and Trowa shared, the blond glanced at him. "Trowa filled me in about what happened on L2, what the both of you observed. If you don't mind my asking, what was Director Une's reaction to your report?"

"I'm not sure she appreciated my candor, or laying blame on the UEC for the misery the blockade has caused the citizens of L2." He frowned as he recalled the conversation with the director. " She appeared as shocked as Trowa and I were by the conditions that colony is forced to live with. She also seemed unaware of the fact that the supplies being sent by the UEC are deplorably inadequate."

"Will she be able to do anything about the situation?"

With a sigh, Wufei shook his head. "She said she'd try, but her hands are tied by regulations and bureaucrats who hold the reins of power over the Preventer organization." He thought he misheard the blond after hearing a barely uttered, "Damn," escape lips that rarely used profanity.

Contemplating his fair haired friend from the corner of his eye as the small sporty car continued to weave through the traffic moving through the busy streets, he noted that while Quatre's face appeared calm, the down turned corners of his mouth and slant of his eyebrows spoke of how much the news of Une's inability to help the situation displeased him. "You're upset," he observed out loud.

Again Quatre glanced his way, their eyes meeting for a moment before the blond looked away again in order to concentrate on the road. "Yes, but like I said before, Trowa told me what he'd seen on L2. I never would have believed any colony would have to go through that kind of mistreatment after we overthrew the Alliance. If the UEC can do that to L2, what's to stop them from imposing sanctions on any other space colony that goes against their ideals?"

"If you could help the people of L2, would you?"

Despite the fact that Quatre was dressed in a grey business suit, including a proper jacket, Wufei detected the minute stiffening of the other man's shoulders. After a long thoughtful pause, the blond answered his question. "Certainly, I would do what I could but I do have a family, a business and a name to protect. I wouldn't do anything that might jeopardize them or sully their reputation."

Wufei wondered at the somewhat ambiguous answer. "So you would work inside the law, not in any illegal manner?"

"Of course," Quatre replied. "But the UEC has shown that it doesn't respect the opinion of a concerned citizen or even that of a member of a prominent family on L4. I've done my best to talk sense into them, Wufei, to the point of pleading with various representatives to take steps to end the embargo and blockade, but my words and pleading seem to fall on deaf ears and calloused hearts."

"They know, of course, that you and Trowa were also gundam pilots. That didn't carry any weight?"

The blond head shook slightly. "No. Oh, they show proper respect, at least those who don't have a grudge against us do, but after listening to what I had to say they simply replied that there was nothing they could do until they see some change on L2 or receive a petition from that colony indicating they wish to negotiate."

Quatre swerved abruptly to miss a stopped car and the tires of his own vehicle screeched as he slammed on the brakes. The small car fishtailed slightly before swerving to the right and coming to a complete stop. Having just averted a collision seemed to the be last thing on the blond's mind when he turned to his passenger with anger blazing in his eyes. "But we both know that's a crock of shit, don't we, Wufei? They can't 'see' any change on L2 if they don't send unbiased observers. And a petition to the UEC can't be received because they've cut off all means of communication with the colony. No one but a select few, handpicked by the committee in charge, are allowed off the ship that delivers the insufficient supply of rations. The UEC has turned a deaf ear and blind eye to the suffering it has caused the people of L2. Does that not smack of injustice, Wufei, of a corruption so deep that it's going to take a major scandal to shake things up and bring to light the reasons for the sanctions and why the citizens of L2 are being exterminated?"

Wufei had rarely seen his friend so worked up. Quatre's face was flushed and his hands were shaking as they tightly gripped the steering wheel. The man seemed totally unaware of the honking of car and truck horns all around them and the shouts from many unhappy drivers voicing their outrage at having a car in front of them parked at a full stop while the green traffic light went ignored.

"We should move," he calmly told the blond.

Quatre blinked, then flushed with embarrassment. The moment the car was in motion again, the driver cleared his throat and said in a calmer voice. "I'm sorry. I got a bit carried away, didn't I?"

"It's a subject that's becoming more difficult to remain neutral about," Wufei admitted.

Quatre turned on the radio then, giving both men time to think about the topic of their conversation. Without speaking further, they continued their short journey towards the Winner-Barton home.

Once again, Wufei found Quatre to be a genial host. He was shown to his room and invited to make himself at home, to take a bath and nap if he wanted to refresh himself before dinner. Quatre excused himself, saying he'd brought some work home with him and that he'd be in his office downstairs if Wufei needed anything at all.

The Preventer accepted the gracious offer, allowing himself to give into the temptation of a luxuriously long soak in the large bathtub. It was a rarity to indulge in such a frivolous pastime, but he'd found in the past that meditating in a hot bath often brought him a measure of peace and clarity.

Wearing a white robe that had been provided for his use by Quatre, he left the moist and heated bathroom and moved to his bed with the intention of taking a nap. Just as he got settled and closed his eyes, his cell phone rang. With an exasperated huff he leaned over and picked it up from the bedside table and answered the call.

Two minutes later, he flipped the phone closed and stared at the white ceiling above the bed. Another marauder attack had been reported. This one came only days behind the last one, when Heero had been on L4. What had caused the thieves to step up their normal pace of attacks? If Trowa was home, he would ask the part-time Preventer to join him in interviewing the crew of the Mary Sue, which was presently en route to L3.

Wait a minute. Wufei sat up in the bed, his mind locking onto an unusual thought. Trowa had also been absent when Heero received word about a marauder attack. He recalled that Quatre and Trowa didn't like to spend time away from each other, but it seemed that they did, and more frequently than anyone would have guessed. It struck him as odd that Trowa, a self-proclaimed homebody, had apparently been gone from said home on several occasions, his absence strangely coinciding with marauder attacks. Could it be more than just a coincidence? he wondered.

For some reason he couldn't let go of the thought of Trowa being something other than what he presented, even after chastising himself for doubting his friends. The idea that Trowa might somehow be involved with the marauders plagued Wufei and led his thoughts into previously unchartered paths, including suspicion. Well, he countered, suspicions could be laid to rest quite easily, that is if the person in question had a verifiable alibi. He had no doubt that Trowa would have one ready, if he were questioned. Quatre had already supplied him with an alibi for today, that there had been computer problems to solve at the office. It appeared he would need to do a little checking on his own, just to ease the suspicions he had towards his two former comrades.

He made up his mind. He'd delay the trip to L3 where he was scheduled to interview the crew of the latest shuttle boarded by the marauders, but just long enough to have dinner with Quatre and his elusive lover.

TBC

Lies Between Friends and Lovers

Chapter 33

With barely a sliver of soap left in her hand, shared by all those living in the apartment, Relena finished scrubbing the offensive smell of sweat from the one blouse she could claim as her own. Her roommates thought she was rather obsessive about cleanliness, but she was determined not to let go of the things that were fundamentally important, and being clean was near the top of that list. What she wouldn't give for some proper detergent, deodorant, toothpaste and fresh underwear. She dreaded the arrival of her menstrual cycle, having been told by the other two women she roomed with that sanitary napkins were limited and that torn up rags would have to be used after her insufficient supply of eight pads had been used. She shuddered at the thought and was grateful that her cycles were often irregular.

Wearing a long, misshaped and stained grey T-shirt, provided by Rida as her nightwear, she finished washing her blouse, knowing that it would be just as wrinkled and ugly after being washed and dried as it had been before she'd taken it off. She could only hope that it would smell a bit better.

She spared only a moment for wistfully thinking of all of the clothing contained within her massive closet back home before guilt set in. Compared to the people she lived with now and others struggling to survive on this colony, the amount of clothing she owned, her luxurious home and many comforts she's enjoyed now seemed obscenely frivolous. She owned dozens of evening gowns and clothing she'd never even worn because she'd been waiting for just the right occasion. And shoes? How many women on L2 could have benefitted from the dozens of shoes in her closet? Even though most of her footwear was on the formal side and inappropriate for everyday wear, the amount of money she'd spent on her them as well as purses and jewelry alone could have fed the colony for a long time.

Wringing out the small bits of moisture from the damp garment in her hands, she once again resisted the urge to cry, refusing to give into pity or self-recriminations. She was alive and not mistreated. As long as she stayed that way there was hope that she could be rescued, that she would return to Earth and to her brother and friends. If she gave into tears now, they would only be the beginning of a complete breakdown.

Purposely turning her thoughts to something else, she again recalled her conversation with Rida. The older woman was nearly a constant presence in the apartment and Relena's source of all kinds of information. The older woman spoke time and again about the inadequate supplies sent by Earth's government and that without the aid of that mysterious group of outsiders and their black ship they would all be dead by now. Tales regarding those who provided food for the colony were some of Rida's favorite topics, outside of her books. This bit of information again piqued Relena's interest.

Before her abduction she'd learned about Heero having gone into space to join with Wufei Chang on an investigation regarding a group of space pirates, or marauders, which was the term Heero had used. Could it be that the same group the Preventers hunted were actually the benefactors who brought the much needed and necessary supplies to L2? Could the marauders be the same people who were risking their own lives by sneaking through the embargo lines to help the forgotten citizens of this colony?

She considered those questions as she placed her sorry excuse for a blouse over the wire line that was drawn over the bathtub, which remained unused for bathing due to a lack of water. She looked at the empty tub with longing, promising to never again take water or bathing for granted. If she ever got back to Earth she was going to soak for hours in a hot bath, scented with lavender and gardenias until her skin was completely wrinkled, like the blouse she'd just washed. Looking back at the garment the thought came to her that it would probably dry faster on the make-shift clothing line that was strung up outside. But Gian had warned her about hanging anything out of doors at night, even several storeys up. It seemed that even though she judged the garment to be quite hideous, those who were needier might be tempted to take such a warm blouse for themselves. It seemed theft was a way of life on the colony, and perhaps more so out of necessity and survival rather than from simple greed.

Thinking about thieves again, her thoughts returned to the marauders. Strangely enough, she found herself feeling differently about them than she had before. Stealing was something she'd never done, not even as a child. She had been taught that it was wrong, for her and everyone else, to take what didn't belong to you. But now, if what she'd been told was true, that she was now on the receiving end of thievery, she couldn't help but feel a great deal of gratitude for those men and/or women who were stealing essential food, water and supplied in order to provide the essential goods to those who could not help themselves. Surely they were heroes, she thought while turning to leave the small room.

The evening cycle was young yet and her roommates were still out, and would no doubt be absent as long as the lights of the colony remained on. Without a television, radio or even a phone, there wasn't much else for her to do. Moving to the bedroom and to her regular spot on the mattress, she sat down and unconsciously combed her fingers though her hair, lacking a comb or brush. Despite being oily, her fingers quickly got tangled in the unruly mass and she wished for at least the hundredth time that she had a proper brush.

A loud rumbling sound came from her stomach, and the former Queen of the World wondered if there was ever going to be a time when she wasn't hungry. Even though she had received her regular allotment of food for the week, she continued from habit born of necessity to ration it carefully, saving some for a more desperate day. Damn, but she was hungry. She decided to try and escape the constant gnawing in her belly in the only way she knew how; by going to sleep.

Lying down, she covered herself with the one blanket assigned to her and curled up into a ball, holding onto her aching stomach. She silently uttered a prayer, concentrating this time on being grateful for being alive instead of complaining about her circumstances. And despite her current situation, she spoke to God of her genuine gratitude for being placed with people who had no intention of harming her. She recalled how, during the week when she'd had so little food to eat, each of her roommates had each given her two spoonfuls of their meal, knowing she had been desperately hungry. Those eight bites of food meant more to her than any fancy banquet she'd attended, where renowned chefs had presented one delectable dish afer another. There was little doubt that these humble people had probably never even heard of much less tasted the kinds of food she'd eaten, which made her feel more guilty than ever. She proceeded to gave thanks for each of her roommates, then closed her prayer with the hope that she would be able to endure this experience and come out of it a better person. "But please, God," she whispered. "Let this nightmare end soon. Amen."

TBC

Author's notes: My heartfelt thanks, everyone, for your comments. I appreciate each and every review you leave for this story and any others I've written. Please forgive me if I don't reply with a comment back, but my time on the computer is limited. Thanks again, Dyna