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Games without Frontiers

Chapter 32: The Elements in Harmony

Rating: T+

Soundtrack – She Blinded Me with Science, Thomas Dolby

"The hell?" Maes' voice sounded breathless and scattered over the phone.

"Maes, it's me, Roy."

"Roy... you do know it's two in the morning, right?"

Roy looked at the clock and muttered a curse under his breath. The hour of the morning was beside the point. "Look, I got a question..."

"I was busy, you know."

Roy looked at the phone. Maes' voice didn't have the usual slur of someone in the middle of sleep. In fact, it sounded as if the man had been running around or some such nonsense. "Busy? At two in the morning? Doesn't Gracia complain when you bring work home?"

"Yes she does, and that's why I'm busy."

"What? Maes, could you speak sense? I have something very important to ask you."

He heard a heavy sigh, then silence for good minute. "Let's see if I can explain it to you," Maes growled. "You see, Elysia has been asking her mother and me for a brother or sister for some time. I have this habit of wanting to give my wonderfully precious daughter everything she wants. You following me?"

"Well, you do spoil the girl rotten, Maes. Maybe you should–,"

"Roy, I have been trying to oblige my daughter and give her the little sibling she desires, if you catch my meaning. But that's really hard, when someone is calling me at two o'clock in the morning!"

Roy thought about that for a long moment, then shook his head frantically to remove the vision from his mind. "Oh, god, man! That's too much information even for me! My brain can only handle so much of that kind of thing! I mean, I know we're close but–,"

"What. Do. You. Want."

"The transfer."

Maes groaned. "What are you talking about?"

"The transfer. Riza's."

"What?"

"Riza? Hawkeye? My new Captain. Her transfer?"

Silence from the other end of the phone again. Roy impatiently tapped his fingers on the phone table, waiting. Then he heard, "Oh, dear sweet...don't you ever read the paperwork you've been given?"

"Of course I did!" This time the silence was full of Maes' unspoken opinion about that lie. "Okay...maybe I didn't. But, what do I do? I don't want to have to trans–,"

"Delayed."

"What?"

Another healthy sigh. "De-layed. At your discretion."

Roy looked at the phone. "How did you manage that?" he wanted to know.

Roy heard rustling, a few muttered curses about Roy's nether regions and a soft voice in the background. That vision of Maes... and Gracia... threatened again, and this time he actually scrubbed at his head with his free hand, trying to rid himself of the things burning behind his eyes. Damn! It was like picturing your sister... he shuddered.

"You know, you'd better be grateful I like you so much..." Maes started in that world-weary voice of his.

"You have my everlasting gratitude," Roy said quickly. "Now, how did you manage to get a delay in Riza's transfer?"

"You do have people in high places who actually like your annoying ass, you know," Maes told him. "I talked to a few of them...explained how she's very integral to the smooth operations of Eastern Headquarters." He laughed. "I dropped a few hints that if she were transferred right away, that your offices would collapse under the weight of disorganization that would descend the minute she closed the door behind her."

"Nice of you to mention that," Roy said sarcastically.

"Were those words of gratitude? I'm sure I just heard you say 'thank you, Maes'. And – wait – was that 'What would I do without you, Maes?'"

"Thank you, Maes," Roy said through gritted teeth. "What would I do without you, Maes?"

Maes laughed again. "And Doctor Winters helped as well. Suggested it wouldn't be a good idea to transfer her right this time, given her condition."

Roy frowned. "Maes, is there something about Riza's condition that you all aren't telling me? I mean, is there something wrong–,"

"Quit worrying. Nothing is wrong with Riza or the baby. Such a move can prove to be stressful, and the good Doctor reminded those who are in charge of this kind of thing that stress isn't good for a developing baby. Very simple. Very convenient."

"Are you sure it won't raise suspicions?"

"Do you know how many newly promoted officers are waiting for transfer, Roy?" Maes told him. "I do. You'd better feel fortunate that our wonderful military is not as organized as we all would like it to be. Now, can I go? I really would like to get back to my nice warm bed, and–,"

"Please, Maes. You don't have to share."

Maes chuckled. "You sure? Could give you a few pointers you know."

Roy told his best friend what he could do with himself and his pointers.

"Thanks, but I have a wife to take care of that. Maybe you should think about getting one yourself. I know of a fine young lady–,"

Roy hung up. Relieved that his world would continue to revolve just the way he wanted, he collapsed on the couch where he sat. Before sleep completely overtook him, he wondered if Riza liked the gown.

Entering the office later that morning, he saw something that threatened to make the top of his head come completely off.

"Captain Hawkeye! What the hell are you doing?"

Riza looked up guiltily. She gave a weak smile and looked down at the large box she was dragging across the floor. "Ah..."

"You've lost your mind, right?" He almost yelled, walking up to her. "Explain yourself. What are you doing?"

"I was packing."

Roy's brain scrambled to a halt for a second. "Packing?" he asked somewhat dumbly. "Why?"

"Well...I just wanted to be ready when you tell me where I'm being transferred to. Sir."

Roy looked at her carefully, and finally noted the tinge of worry in her eyes. However, for the moment, that was unimportant. "Couldn't you have gotten someone to help you? That box must weigh at least thirty pounds!"

"Do you see anyone here?" Riza wanted to know. "They're all out."

"Out? Where they hell are they?"

"Hiding." She actually tried tugging on the box again until she caught his incredulous look.

"Hiding from?"

"Edward. He's coming in this morning and no one wants to be around when he finds out about the Ball."

"Would you leave that box alone?" He moved over, picked up the box, and took it to the large table. "What the hell is in this thing anyway?"

"Most of the things in my desk. Everything that I don't really need."

He stared at her and hefted the box one more time. Fifty pounds or he was a desk chair.

"Well, it has been quite a few years. Things accumulate."

She looked miserable, he suddenly realized. And he knew the reason for it.

"Put those things back in your desk, Captain," he told her as he turned toward his desk. "You aren't going anywhere yet."

He could actually hear her confusion in the air almost as well as he could hear the flow of oxygen in the air when he snapped his fingers. "What? I thought–,"

"It's come to my attention that there have been too many officers promoted and not enough places to send them all," he continued. "Your transfer has been delayed, upon my discretion."

"Delayed?"

He turned to look at her, almost smiling at the poleaxed look on her face. She'd probably spent all morning getting herself mentally prepared to leave this office, and these Headquarters, for somewhere else. "Delayed. On my discretion." He turned back to his desk, shuffled a few of the files there. "If you have any further questions, I can answer them later. Right now, I need you to hurry up and get your desk back in order. I'll need your assistance in research today."

There was an eternal silence coming from behind him. He dared not turn to look. Then he heard, quietly, "Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

He hoped that she would hurry; he didn't relish being in the same room as Edward, either, when he found out about the Officer's Ball.

When he entered the reading room and heard her turn the lock, he grinned inside, remembering the last time they'd been in here. She probably thought about it too, to tell from the way she was refusing to meet his eyes. Though that wasn't what he'd planned for their time here today, he was relieved that she had locked the door. He could talk to her the way he wanted her in the protection of this room. He wished there were more of these kind of rooms in Headquarters.

"I have another surprise for you," he told her.

That made her look up. Damn, she was wary and skittish today. She was trying so hard to maintain her professionalism. She was getting a tiny wrinkle in between her eyes from her concentration. "You mean there's more?" she asked, and her voice even sounded strained.

He frowned, determined more than ever to rid her of her dark mood. He took the stack of folders from her and rifled through them looking for one in particular. He found it, and with a flourish pulled it out and placed it in front of her. "The research you requested," he announced.

She looked at the folder, wide-eyed. "You finished it?"

"Well, I found as much as I could on the subject of alchemy and its hereditary aspects." He plopped in the chair and pulled another of the folders toward him. "There was precious little of it. I guess no one really thought of it as an important subject."

She opened the folder and began to read. "Well, someone should have. At least a woman alchemist should have." She looked up at him. "Are there any women state alchemists?"

"A few."

"Hmm. Interesting." She started reading in earnest.

He went back to his own file. He skimmed over the notes he'd taken on the use of hydrogen in air travel, when he heard her swift intake of breath. He looked over the folder. "What?"

"So there was at least one person who thought that there is a genetic aspect to the ability."

"Yeah. Terrance Daye. He lived about seventy-five years ago."

"There must be a chemical, for lack of a better word, aspect of alchemy that is passed down from generation to generation." she quoted, running her finger along the line as she read. "There must be something within an alchemist that allows him to have the abilities of deconstruction and reconstruction..."

"That does make sense," Roy commented. "I always wondered exactly how I was able to break down the oxygen in the air and refashion it into a flame."

"What about your parents, Roy? Were either of them alchemists?"

"My aunt seems to think that my father was an alchemist." He smiled grimly. "She never said much about them, other than they caused quite a bit of scandal by having me."

"She must have cared a lot about them to take in their only son."

"I suppose."

Riza nodded and went back to reading. He stared at her for a moment, waiting for another comment. "Riza?"

"Hmm?"

"It doesn't bother you?"

"What?" she frowned?

"That my mother and father weren't..."

Riza snorted. "No. If it did, I'd be one hell of a hypocrite." She smiled at him, a real smile this time. "I'm not married to the father of my child, now am I?"

He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "You're right." He cleared his throat. "You know why I can't -,"

Riza didn't bother looking up. "If we were married, I couldn't watch your back," she said calmly. "All right. I have a question, since I don't have the advantages that you have when it comes to this... craft." She closed the folder and folded her hands on top of it. "I know that your knowledge includes the chemical makeup of most things. You have to know that, right, in order to be able to move to the next step of deconstruction. That includes the human body, right?"

Roy nodded. "It is one of the first things we are taught. If we know what's inside of each of us, it's easier to relate those chemicals and elements to the things in the world around us. That knowledge helps us maintain that balance we need to transmute." He leaned back. He enjoyed sharing his craft this way. It was something he had a rare opportunity to do. If he hadn't had his goals, and hadn't become a State Alchemist, he probably would have been a teacher of theory. "To be able to transmute oxygen, I have to know how much of what in the air in front of me is actually oxygen and how much the carbon dioxide I exhale."

"Okay, then think on this a minute. Right now, my body contains one and one-half times more blood volume than that of a normal person."

He blinked. "That's right; it does."

She nodded. "The baby takes all of its nourishment from me. So my body compensates in several different ways. The volume of blood is one thing. In fact, my whole body's composition has gone through a change, considering that my body is nourishing the baby. So how does that affect the balance?"

Roy tilted his head, amazed. "I really wouldn't know. I've never really taken that line of thought. I suppose it would affect a few things."

"Conversely, I'm carrying a baby that is almost fully formed." She put her hand over her stomach. "I'm six months gone, now. This baby is almost fully baked. It has almost the same composition as I do. So it's like I'm carrying an extra amount of those things that make up a human inside of me."

"Extra water," Roy murmured. "Extra carbon, phosphorus...you're right."

"And say this Daye person is right, and there is something extra inside of an alchemist that makes them able to do what they do. If I share the same blood – the same everything – with the baby inside of me and he or she is an alchemist, what happens to me?"

Roy sat straight up. "What do you mean?"

She pushed the folder aside and stared at the tabletop for a moment. Then she looked up and looked him in the eye. Roy knew that look; he'd seen it every time she had to tell him something she would rather not. "Give me your pen," she asked.

He handed it over, wondering what she was going to do, and positive that he wouldn't care for it.

She took it, and slid a blank piece of paper toward herself. Then she took one of the pieces of paper from the folder and ripped it into many small pieces.

"Hey! What are you doing? I planned to use that–,"

She held up a hand. "Hush. I need to think for a minute. Remember..." She started to draw on the blank sheet. He watched, stunned as she drew a rough array, one basic to the use of transmutation. He was impressed; her free hand circle was perfect.

"Riza, what..." he started to say and stopped when she held up a hand again.

"That rose you made for me? The one you made from the broken pieces of my teacup and saucer. I kept the piece of paper you drew the array on." She blushed at that. "One day, I found a stray shard of ceramic under the kitchen table." She placed the pieces of paper in the center of the array. "I wasn't thinking. I just put it down, and I happened to put the thing on the piece of paper."

As he watched, knowing where she was going with this, and unwilling to believe it, she stared at the paper for a moment, as if willing herself. Then she nodded, as if coming to some conclusion inside of her head. She placed her hands on the paper.

There was a flash of light – not as big as he would have expected – and when it cleared, what he saw astounded him.

The paper she'd torn up was whole. Perfect. Unblemished, even. He reached over and took it from her. It looked as the same as when he'd first put it in the folder.

"I don't have any of the ability, Roy," she whispered, leaning back and putting a hand to her forehead. "You know that. My father would was very clear in letting me know that I was useless."

"That was because you were a female," Roy said, "It had nothing to do with your ability."

"Well, if I had any potential, it would have shown itself by now. Actually, that hurts."

"Then – why? How–?"

"I don't know. But, after it happened, I mentioned it to Doctor Winters." The look in Riza's eyes was uneasy, and gave him the feeling that he never wanted to meet this doctor of hers.

"Did you show her this?"

Riza shook her head. "Of course not. I wanted to know all I could before I went that far. I just asked if she'd heard anything about it." She shrugged. "I thought she would break a blood vessel, she got so excited. Then she asked me to let her know if anything... untoward... happened in relation to my question. She made it seem very important that I tell her."

Roy's eyes narrowed. "I suppose it would be important if a woman who was carrying an alchemist manifested the ability while pregnant." Then it clicked into place, why she was so nervous about this, and why she'd asked him to look up everything he could on the entire subject. "It would make a good way," he said slowly, "to identify potential alchemists."

"If the ability to perform alchemy were hereditary, if it were genetic," Riza said quietly, each word dropping down his spine like shards of ice, "then it would be so easy to actually breed alchemists. And... If the mother suddenly responded to the stimulation of the ability that the research and study you do brings, it would be a perfect way to ensure that–,"

"The army never runs out of alchemists."

"Perfectly trained weapons."

He stared at her. "It's completely far-fetched, Riza. Too far-fetched. Crazy. Impossible!"

"Far-fetched? Perhaps." She blinked once, and then gave him that steady gaze again. "To most people out there, those who don't see what you and your kind do every day, so is alchemy. Crazy? Again, perhaps. Do you know how crazy it looks when you snap your fingers and make something go boom? Impossible? How impossible was it for me to do that?" She gestured at the paper. "I shouldn't be able to do that, but I did. I think it's because our baby has the same abilities that you have."

Then, she reached into her pocket, and pulled out a tiny ceramic rose, similar, but definitely not the same one he'd given her. She pushed it across the table toward him.