Back at the office, Aviva quickly changed into something less bloodstained. The helicopter was waiting on the pad, rotors turning. Reno took the controls. One of the army dudes asked if he could sit in the co-pilot's seat. "I've never been in a helicopter before," he said.
Reno no longer bothered asking Heidegger's grunts for their names. They all looked the same and they all died with such regularity that it wasn't worth getting to know them. But this one seemed like a nice kid. With his eager blue eyes, spiky blond hair, and soft cheeks innocent of a razor's touch, he couldn't be any older than Aviva.
"Help yourself," said Reno. "Just don't touch anything."
The flight south to Junon took a little over an hour. Halfway there the grunt started to feel airsick; Reno told him to upchuck, if he had to, in his helmet. Aviva catnapped, but woke when the sun came up to flood sea and coast with a rosy gold light. The landscape was breathtakingly bleak.
"There it is!" Aviva pointed, shouting over the roar of the engines.
Burning bronze in the dawn sunshine: Junon, the military-industrial complex at the heart of Shinra's empire, a stepped city riveted to the barren walls of the sea cliff and dominated by the vast concrete barrel of the mako cannon thrusting out over the ocean waves.
"Why is it such a desert?" shouted the grunt.
"It's the pollution from the underwater reactor!" shouted Aviva. "The old town's nice, though! If you get time you should check it out! I could show you around! I was here all last week," she explained, smiling. The grunt smiled back, shyly, and a little queasily.
"Cute," was Reno's dry comment.
He brought the helicopter in to land at the airport on the top of the town; they all disembarked, and made their way down through the dawn streets to the hotel where the President was staying. Here Reno made a quick call to Veld to confirm their arrival.
"The President's eating breakfast and doesn't want to be disturbed," said Veld. "Let's see. It's half past seven. Everything's looking peaceful right now. The President has an inspection of cadets to make at ten and a public broadcast at two-thirty. You might as well go and get something to eat. You won't have another chance."
"Yes!" Aviva punched the air. "I love hotel buffets!"
If any of them had hoped that the threatened attack would fail to materalise, those hopes were dashed soon after breakfast, when a gun battle erupted outside the hotel. Reno and Aviva ran to the presidential suite and found the old man more furious than frightened.
"Who the hell do these people think they are?" he roared. "If they think they're going to stop me they've got another think coming."
"Maybe you should call Commander Veld, sir?" suggested Reno.
"Bugger Veld! He's as fussy as a mother hen. I'm confident you two can protect me."
A guard came running into the room. "Mr. President, sir, they're in – "
A fireball struck him from behind like an exploding star. Reno, Aviva, and the President threw up their hands to shield their eyes. When they were able to look again, there was nothing to be seen but scorch marks on the expensive purple carpet
"What the blazes was that?" exclaimed the President. "Was that – our materia?"
"Ours now," said a khaki-clad, goggle-wearing enemy as he walked into the room, gun leveled at the Old Man's heart. "I've found you, Mister President."
"As if I'd let you!" cried Aviva. Her knives flashed, and the man went down.
The President's phone rang. It was Veld. They argued. Eventually Aviva was sent to sweep the hotel while Reno was ordered to stay and guard the President. But the Old Man was impatient. He tapped his foot and read some papers and watched the clock and made some irritable phone calls, and finally said, "That's it, Reno. I'm running behind schedule and there are many things that must be done today. Let's go."
On the way they ran into Aviva. She reported the hotel clean. Reno wanted to wait for an armoured car but the Old Man was having none of it. They headed out into the streets with an entourage of Heidegger's infantrymen.
"Remember this, Mr President!" cried a voice from above. A sudden explosion sent Reno flying backwards.
He staggered to his feet, wiping the dust from his eyes, and looked around, relieved to see Aviva's little upright figure standing on guard in front of the Old Man, her pistol aimed at a top floor window of the hotel. All the infantrymen seemed to be safe too, amazingly. But their party was now divided. The entire width of the road had been torn asunder, peeling away the asphalt skin to reveal the steel skeleton of the machine gun emplacements beneath. There was no way across. Aviva, the President, and most of the grunts were on the far side of the chasm, while Reno, together with two more infantrymen, had been left stranded on the other.
"Yo rookie!" he called. "You take good care of the President. I'll sort out that fucker with the bomb, and then catch you up another way."
"Roger!" shouted Aviva.
Some kills were more personally satisfying than others. The bomb had been a close thing, so when Reno trapped the bomber in the hotel's stairwell, the payback felt sweet. From the stairwell he led the grunts up and over the rooftops and so to the service lift that took them to the military academy. He made his way to the auditorium and found the President standing at the podium, Shinra's scarlet and purple banners unfurled on either side, while the cadets marched past, eyes right, saluting proudly.
Aviva looked hot and dirty, but very pleased with herself. "I got eight of them, sir," she boasted. "And the guards got six more. I used the materia like you showed me."
Reno lit a cigarette. To himself he thought, that's got to be at least thirty we've killed so far. How many more are there? How big is this group?
To Aviva he said, "Nice work, kid."
Blushing, she grinned from ear to ear.
When the inspection was over, Veld called the President again. The upshot of this argument was that the President agreed to give his broadcast from the company's Junon branch office, where sophisticated security systems could be brought into play if AVALANCHE attacked again. Why they couldn't all just leave, fly back to Midgar, and make the broadcast from somewhere comparatively safe, Reno didn't know, but he wasn't the one calling the shots.
Once again they split up. Aviva and half the grunts went ahead with the President; Reno and the rest of the soldiers brought up the rear, ready to take any trouble from behind. The streets were quiet – eerily so, like a ghost town. The citizens must have taken cover. Reno made himself invisible in the shadow of a doorway and watched Aviva escort the President inside the branch office. For ten minutes he waited, but nothing happened and no enemies appeared, so he followed them in. The foyer was empty, except for two guards.
"Where is everybody?" asked Reno.
"We sent them to the basement for safety. We have a message from your Director. He said you and the other Turk were to secure the building. We will be guarding the President."
"Is that right?" said Reno. "Then why didn't he call me?"
One blast from the EMR took care of both of them. "Guard the doors," he shouted to the grunts, before running up the stairs three at a time to the press office. Here three more AVALANCHE operatives disguised as Shinra infantrymen lay dead on the blue-tiled floor. They had been shot in the back, and Aviva's pistol was hot in her hand. She wasn't looking pleased with herself any more.
"Oldest trick in the book, rookie," he told her.
"I'm getting pretty damn sick of this!" the Old Man roared. "What the hell is Veld doing? Clear those bodies away, Reno, and let's get the cameras set up! Nothing must delay my broadcast. The public's faith in us is our single biggest asset."
"I should be getting double time for this," Reno muttered to himself.
Aviva, overhearing him, giggled.
.
By two-thirty-five a kind of peace had descended on Junon. The AVALANCHE threat appeared to have been averted. Perhaps they were all now dead. The office workers had returned to their stations, the broadcast equipment was up and running, the cameras were rolling, and the Old Man's speech was going well.
-The Junon army is the people's army. They exist to serve and protect you all -
"Looks like everything's going to be OK," said Reno to Aviva.
"That's a relief – "
The world plunged into sudden night.
"Power outage!" someone shouted.
Reno felt small fingers brushing the back of his hand.
"Is that you, sir?" whispered Aviva.
Cell phones were flipped open and held up; glowing squares of light floated in the darkness.
"Reno!" bellowed the Old Man. "What the blue blazes just happened? Can't you people do anything right? I might as well be paying monkeys! Monkeys in suits! Reno? Are you there? Get Veld on the phone! Get Veld for me now!"
The phone rang. It was Veld. He ordered Aviva to get down to the basement, find the problem, and restore the power, while Reno stayed to guard the President. It wasn't long before the lights were back on.
"She's good," said the Old Man. He dismissed the other workers, then turned to Reno and said, "Let's go."
"Go?" exclaimed Reno.
"My speech is ruined. There's no sense in hanging around here. I have business waiting for me back in Midgar and – now what?"
A young man stood in the entrance to the press room, holding a gun in his hand. He was of middle height and slim build, with delicate features, thin lips, and thick straight brown hair pulled back from a high forehead. His skin was very pale. He wore a pair of rimless spectacles; the light glinted on the glass, making it impossible to see his eyes clearly.
He took a step forward and said, "It seems the power was restored faster than we anticipated. But no matter. We have already succeeded in preventing President Shinra from inspiring the masses with his heart-warming speech."
"AVALANCHE?" said Reno.
The young man bowed. "You know our name. I am honoured." He took another step forward.
"Don't come any closer to the President," said Reno, moving to put himself between the stranger and the Old Man.
"Just kill him!" shouted the President.
But Reno did not want to kill him. They needed information; they needed to capture somebody alive, and this guy, with his geeky glasses and his soft hands and his high-collared grey coat, was clearly no ordinary operative. If Reno could keep him here talking until Aviva got back, they should be able to take him prisoner without risking the President in a battle.
"Tsk, tsk," said the young man. "There's no need to be so uncivilized. I don't believe we've met in person before, Mr President, but of course I'd know you anywhere. My name is Fuhito."
"Who gives a shit?" snarled the President. "Reno, what are you waiting for? Kill him!"
"Gee, I dunno," said Reno, "He looks pretty tough to me."
"I'll take that in the spirit in which it was intended," said Fuhito. "I wish I could prolong this interesting conversation, but unfortunately I have no time to dilly-dally. This, I am sorry to say, is where we must part – "
Aviva appeared in the doorway behind him, out of breath from running, her knuckles bristling with knives.
"Good timing!" said Reno. "Try to capture him alive; I'm taking the President somewhere safe."
"You can count on me, sir!"
Reno was beginning to be impressed by how much she was enjoying this.
The President had meanwhile flipped a switch under the desk that opened the secret door. He went through it, and Reno, rod in hand, followed. They made their way back to the hotel without any trouble. When they walked into the presidential suite, the large monitor on the wall was ringing. "Answer it," said the President. Reno pressed the button. Tiny squares of colours swarmed the screen, resolving into Rufus Shinra's pixilated features.
All the harshness and impatience, and some of the strength, went out of old Shinra's face. His eyes grew tender. He made a gesture as if he would have liked to reach out and touch that gigantic, perfect face.
"It looks like you're having some trouble, old man," said Rufus. "I've been watching the CCTV. Are you all right?"
"Rufus," said the Old Man gently, "It's been a while since I heard from you."
"I've been busy," said Rufus. "Business. You know how it is. Anyway… Hullo, Reno. Long time no see." And if I never see you again, his sullen tone added, it'll be too soon.
The kid sure knew how to bear a grudge, thought Reno, looking up at those huge, baleful blue eyes. Just like his old man. Once they got their teeth into something, they never let go.
Rufus went on, "I've been watching your new Turk show off her moves. She's not bad. What's her name?"
"Aviva."
"I'll remember that. Tell her that I look forward to seeing her in action again sometime soon. Ah – you've got incoming. I'd better get off the line."
The face of the President's son dissolved and was replaced by that of Commander Veld.
"Sir, we have an emergency - "
No shit, thought Reno, so what's this day been up till now?
" - AVALANCHE have seized the mako cannon and are redirecting it at Midgar."
The old man went white with rage. "What?" he bellowed. "How could you have let this happen, you incompetent fool?"
"We are taking steps to – "
"No, Veld, you listen to me. My son's in Midgar. We are not going to let those terrorists destroy my city. I want you to up the security level from A to S. Send one of your people to take back the control room – send that girl, she's closest. Reno, get all the infantrymen you can find and get up to the cannon. There's no time to waste. You have to recapture it, no matter what. Do you understand?
"Understood," replied Reno.
Then he did what he did best – he ran.
.
It was a hard fight, the hardest of his life, and the most hopeless. The enemy just kept coming. Every time he killed one, two more, it seemed, ran in to take their place. The four infantrymen he had picked up in the hotel lobby were already dead – dead like the entire city of Midgar was going to be as soon as AVALANCHE unleashed the cannon. He would never reach it in time. He shot the enemy with his gun until the bullets ran out, and fried them with his rod until the materia was drained, and then he fought them with his fists and his feet and his teeth, and all the time he knew he was going to fail. He was going to die, here on the streets of Junon, and Cissnei and Rude were going to die there in Midgar, and the Chief was going to die, probably with his phone clamped to his ear listening to Tseng dying at the other end. The Board was going to die; Rufus Shinra was going to die; the Company was going to crumble and the world fall into chaos, and he, Reno, was doing everything he could, but could do nothing to stop it.
At least if I die first, he thought, I can always hope some miracle happened to save them.
It was at this point he realized that the number of his attackers was thinning. He was still killing them, but no fresh ones were coming to replace the fallen.
At least half an hour must have passed since he left the hotel. If they were going to fire the cannon – if they were able to fire the cannon – why hadn't they done so?
They must have failed.
His attackers knew that they had failed: they were fighting without conviction now. One by one, they turned to flee.
Soon, no enemy remained.
The sun was setting. Long shadows lay across the road; red and black clouds streaked the violet sky. Reno looked back at the line of corpses marking the path he had tried to take from the hotel to the cannon. That's all of them, he thought. The only one left – is me.
From out of the evening sky he heard a familiar whump-whump. In a moment the helicopter was hovering above him, and he saw Rude leaning out the open door, throwing down a rope ladder.
Time to go home.
.
As soon as he was inside the helicopter, Reno's phone rang. It was Tseng, letting him know that the President had been shot but was safe and out of danger, that the miracle had been Sephiroth, and that Aviva was down on the docks, injured and waiting to be collected.
The dock looked as if it had been struck by an earthquake. Rude could see no place to land among the rubble. Reno went down the ladder and found Aviva huddled against an iron buttress, clutching a wound on her arm. Blood was seeping between her fingers.
"Hey kid, you OK?"
Aviva nodded.
"Did Sephiroth do this?"
"He wrecked the dock," she said, eyes screwed shut against the pain. "But he saved me."
"Come on." Reno picked her up and put her over his shoulder. Her body felt like the cat's, all hard muscle and sinew, yet soft and pliable. He didn't have the strength left to carry her up the ladder (she weighed more than she looked) so he held on, and Rude pulled them both in.
They laid her down on an army blanket. Rude handed them headsets and took out his materia case, giving one little green sphere to Reno, who swallowed it gratefully and then leaned back and closed his eyes, and offering another to Aviva. She held it in her palm and looked at it closely.
"You've lost a lot of blood," said Rude. "Take it."
"Is it OK to take so much? I gave Mr Reno a big dose this morning."
A smile touched Rude's lips. "It's how we survive."
"Warn her," said Reno, still with his eyes closed.
"First it hurts," said Rude. "Then it feels good."
Aviva closed her fist round the green materia. With a swift, decisive gesture she shoved it into her mouth and gulped it down. "I don't feel anything – oh. Um. Ouch. It's like pins and needles – "
Reno lit a cigarette.
"Do you have to smoke in the chopper?" asked Rude.
"Yes, I do. By the way, partner, who's flying her right now?"
Aviva had begun to whimper.
"It's on auto-hover." Taking the hint, Rude slid himself into the pilot's seat, turned off the hover switch, and wheeled the helicopter up and away to the left, into the darkening sky. He craned his neck to speak to Reno. "Let me know when you feel like taking over."
"Later, maybe."
Aviva was gasping for breath. Reno observed her dispassionately. In a moment, when the refined mako hit her heart, she would know the reason for the pain.
Her whole body stiffened. She threw her head back and cried out loud.
Then she sat up, taking deep shuddering breaths. She held out her hands and examined them slowly, turning palm to back to palm. She patted down her limbs, as if to make sure everything was in place. When she turned her face to Reno, her eyes were sparkling.
"That was just… awesome. I feel amazing. My wound's completely healed, look, sir –" She rolled up her sleeve to show him a taut, smooth biceps.
"Aviva," said Reno, "What happened on the dock?"
It took her a little time to tell the story: in her heightened state the words poured out as a jumbled torrent. Eventually, Reno managed to get the gist. She'd failed to capture Fuhito, who had slipped past her guard, and she'd been in hot pursuit when the Commander called her with orders to get down to the cannon's detonator and disarm it before it fired. It had been a race against time: she'd had to fight her way past not only the AVALANCHE operatives in her path, but also Shinra's own security robots, programmed at S-level to kill anything that moved. Like Reno, she had struggled on in the growing certainty that she would arrive too late – but when she reached the outer chamber of the control room, she found it heaped with the bodies of dead AVALANCHE operatives who had been, quite literally, hacked into pieces and thrown about with such force that blood was dripping from the ceiling. Slash marks scored the walls. Seeing this, she had felt, for the first time in that whole long day, truly afraid.
But then the Commander had called her, and thanked her for disarming the detonator. She knew she hadn't. So who had?
That was when the woman had come in. Tall, broad-shouldered, with shaggy short brown hair, she wore a cape over her khaki fatigues and was armed with a sword. Furiously she threw herself at Aviva, demanding vengeance for her dead comrades. She was strong and quick, flicking Aviva's knives aside with the flat of her blade. The materia Aviva cast seemed to have no effect on her. Wounded, and realizing that if she stayed she would certainly be killed, Aviva had fled through a side door and found herself out on the dock with nowhere to run. The woman came after her, sword raised. That was when Sephiroth appeared.
"He didn't kill her?" asked Rude, who had been listening.
"Maybe he didn't try very hard," said Aviva. "She blocked his attack and held his blade and he seemed, like, impressed. He asked her name and she said it was Elfe and she was AVALANCHE's leader. And then she said – what was it she said? – she said 'By retreating today we remain victorious', and she ran off so fast I didn't really see where she went, and he let her go, I guess. And then he spoke to me and he said that he sensed an unusual strength in her and that we were not to take her lightly. Oh my god," she exclaimed, the realization only now fully dawning on her, "He spoke to me. Sephiroth spoke to me."
"So this woman is their leader?" said Reno. "Not Shears?"
"I knew about the silver hair, of course, everybody knows about that," Aviva burbled, "But I would never have guessed his eyelashes were so long and so dark."
"A woman who's a match for Sephiroth," mused Rude.
"Did she say anything else?" Reno pressed her. "Did she say anything about who they are, or what they want, or why they're doing this?"
"She said to him that they were fighting for a reason – she said it like she didn't think we had a reason. But I don't think that's true, sir, do you? I think we had plenty of reasons to fight today. I think we have lots of good reasons."
"Money's always a good reason," Reno agreed.
"But I think Shinra is worth fighting for. Don't you, sir?"
"You're getting a bit of a mistaken impression, kid. Today was kinda unusual. We don't fight entire armies single handed on a daily basis."
"But you haven't answered my question." Aviva leaned forward. The pupils of her eyes were widely dilated. "What do you fight for?"
"I told you. It's my job."
"There's a million jobs in this world. Why this one?"
"Who else would hire him?" Rude threw back from the pilot's seat.
"You know what?" said Aviva. "Today for the first time ever in my life I felt like I was doing something worthwhile. Like I was making a difference. Like it mattered whether I succeeded or failed. I helped save lives today. I think that's worth fighting for. " She took a gulp of air and rushed on, "So many people die who don't deserve to. My family was killed in the Wutai war. I barely even remember them. And my mother, she lost her parents in the Great Continental War. I'm not looking for your pity," she said fiercely. "I know my story is no different from a million other people. But we can change things. Shinra has the power to change things. Nobody else has ever had that kind of power. I think we really have a chance to bring peace to the world for the first time in history. I really, really believe that. And I know you do too or you wouldn't be here."
Reno and Rude exchanged glances.
"Aviva, Turks don't discuss these things," said Rude.
"Why not?"
"Because whatever you believe, you still have to do your job."
"Yeah kid," said Reno, "If you don't watch out, the President will have you writing his speeches next."
Aviva's face scrunched up and her fists clenched. If she had had any knives left, thought Reno, she might have thrown one at him. Turning her back on the two men, she lay down on the blanket. It would be good if she could fall asleep. The materia seemed to have given her quite a buzz. Once again Rude offered Reno the controls, but Reno declined: the long day was beginning to catch up with him. He leaned his head against one of the helicopter's metal ribs, and stared through the window at the blue-green glow of Midgar, coming steadily closer.
Aviva began humming.
"Man," said Rude, "She's really flying."
"You gave her too much. She's so small, half a dose would have been enough."
She said dreamily, "Mr Reno, can I ask you something?"
"You don't need to keep calling me Mr Reno. Or sir. The Chief is sir. Tseng's sir. But me and Rude, we're your partners."
"OK. Partner. Can I ask you something? I've been wondering all day. Is your hair real?"
Rude burst out laughing.
"Of course it's real," said Reno indignantly. "I grow it myself."
"You don't dye it?"
"No! It's always been this colour. Who said I dyed it?"
Rude was snorting, choking, on his laughter.
"It's so…. red," she sighed. "Can I touch it?"
"Rude!"
"Hey, man, it's only the materia talking. Be nice. It's her first day, and she's been through a lot."
"Well, all right, then," said Reno to Aviva. "Just be careful you don't mess it. And don't pull."
He bent his head to her waiting hand. Her touch was so light he could barely feel it.
"It's soft," she murmured. "I thought it would be prickly. It's so soft."
She stroked his hair backwards, like petting an animal. When her fingertips touched his scalp, his skin purred. Against the nape of his neck her resting hand was small and cool and heavy. Little shivers began to run down his spine. Time to stop. He pulled away, sitting back on his heels.
Her hand fell to her side. She was asleep.