CHAPTER 16: THERE ARE THINGS WE DON'T TALK ABOUT
In which Veld debriefs Tseng on the mission to Modeoheim, and Mink files her surveillance report on Aerith
Form S-DAR/REP:6A
SHINRA ELECTRIC COMPANY
Department of Administrative Research
Mission Report
Mission to: Modeoheim
Mission Objective: Liquidation of SOLDIER 1st Class Angeal Hewley
Agents: Tseng
Accompanied by: SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair
2x infantrymen: Strife, Pearlman
Mission Date: October 31st 2001
Report filed by: Tseng, ID S-DAR.M/54.S
Mission status: Accomplished
Journeyed to Modeoheim via helicopter. Observed from air significant increase in monster activity. Helicopter attacked and brought down by griffin. No casualties. Weather -11 with heavy snow cover. Proceeded from crash site to Modeoheim on foot. Halted on mountainside to observe disused mako factory; Fair and Strife sent to investigate. Factory infested with Genesis copies. Fair and Strife eliminated these and proceeded to basement, where they found Genesis Rhapsodos in an advanced state of degradation, apparently attempting to kill Professor Hollander. Fair fought Genesis and reports that he fell into the mine shaft and is likely dead (for details, see Fair's report filed with SOLDIER).
Hollander escaped from factory. Strife, Pearlman and I pursued him. Hollander ran into derelict bathhouse. I left Pearlman to guard entrance and went inside with Strife. No sign of Hollander. Killed several cuahl-type monsters. Proceeded up interior stairs, and found Target.
Target recognised me and approached. He asked if I had come to kill him. Answered Target in the affirmative. Had brief conversation. Was taken by surprise by Hollander who came out from upstairs room firing a gun. Private Strife wounded. I returned fire. Target cast materia that rendered Strife and myself unconscious.
Awoke to see Zack Fair battling large monster of unidentifiable type, Hollander attempting to escape. Private Strife and I apprehended Hollander. Fair killed monster.
Returned to Midgar…
Veld glanced up from the printout to put a question to Tseng, who was sitting on the other side of the desk. "The monster was Angeal?"
"In some way that I don't understand, yes, sir. When Zack killed it, it vaporized, and Angeal was left behind. He died a few moments later."
"So it was much more than just the wing?"
Tseng hesitated. The Commander seemed to be missing the point, probably because Tseng had failed to explain himself clearly. There were some things it was wiser not to commit to paper, when you worked in Shinra.
He said, "Angeal wanted to die. He was waiting for Zack. He wanted Zack to do it. No one else."
Veld laid down the paper and looked hard into his lieutenant's face. "How do you know this?"
"He told me."
Veld frowned. "You allowed yourself to be distracted -"
"Sir, Hollander talked to Zack. About Project G. And Jenova."
The furrow between Veld's thick brows deepened ominously. "What exactly did he say?"
"He told him about Angeal's mother Gillian and how her cells were mapped onto Genesis."
"But what did he say about Jenova? Did he tell Zack what Jenova is?"
"I can't remember – "
You don't want to remember, his mind protested. You want to forget what you saw -
Though he had told himself beforehand that he would not bring his emotions into this, Tseng's hands now betrayed him. They began to shake. He tried willing them to stop. They only trembled more violently. Quickly he trapped them between his knees, not wanting the Commander to see. But it was no good. His teeth were chattering now. He could feel himself shivering all over.
"What's wrong?" asked the Commander, pushing his chair back and standing up. "Tseng? Are you ill?"
"I saw it," said Tseng. "I saw all of it."
He had come back to consciousness on the upstairs landing of the bathhouse. To his right, Private Strife was slumped against the wall, groaning. Overhead Tseng could hear heavy footsteps and voices. With his legs numb from the after-effects of Hollander's materia attack, he had crawled through the hole in the wall, up the frozen heating pipes, and across the top floor, until he reached the doorway to the bathhouse loft, getting there in time to hear Hollander tell Zack about the experiments which had made Angeal and Genesis.
Above their heads the roof was broken; a sunset glow filled the room. Zack's face was a mingling of horror and disbelief. Angeal's held nothing but despair. Tseng tried to draw his gun, to shut Hollander up, but his fingers fumbled uselessly and he dropped the weapon. It made a loud noise as it hit a metal pipe. Not one of the three men heard it.
Angeal pushed Hollander hard, knocking him into a corner of the room, where he lay winded. Angeal then turned to Zack.
-Remember when I told you that our enemy is everything that creates suffering?
- Yes, but that's not you, Zack cried.
- Isn't it? I torment myself. Look. I'll show you.
And then the indescribable thing, the living nightmare.
Tseng had thought he'd seen it all: every monstrosity, every extreme of evil, this planet had to offer. But the creature that assembled itself in that loft room in Modeoheim was something nature had never planned or intended. It was man-made.
He knew what happened in the labs. He'd taken subjects in. He'd disposed of the failures and rejects. He didn't ask questions; he neither judged nor apologized. That was not his job.
But when it happened to a man he knew well, a man he admired and respected; when Angeal became a monster in front of his eyes, then there was no looking the other way. He had to see the truth for what it was and call it by its name, even if that name could never be uttered aloud.
Abomination.
Stop it, Angeal, Zack had cried out, you don't know what you're doing!
Even then, and right to the bitter end, Zack had thought he could save the man he worshipped. He had believed he was fighting for Angeal's life.
It would have been better if Angeal had let me shoot him, thought Tseng. How cruel, how monstrous, to make Zack do it.
But Turks did not speak of these things.
Veld pressed a shinrafoam cup of coffee into Tseng's trembling fingers. "Drink it," he ordered. He'd loaded it with sugar, bitter-sweet. The heat and the sugar steadied Tseng's nerves. Between long sips he breathed deeply, inhaling the steamy aroma, forcing his senses to focus on the familiar details of Veld's office: the smoothness of the chair's leather upholstery; the grain of the wood in the Commander's desk; the plastic pot plants in the corner that neither grew nor flowered. Bit by bit the nightmare receded, and Tseng had himself back under control.
The Commander laid a hand, warm and heavy, on his lieutenant's shoulder, and let it rest there for a moment or two. Then he moved back to the other side of the table, took his seat, and picked up a pen. Though there were many things of which they might never speak, one aspect of this affair was clearly Turk business, and they needed to deal with it now.
"If he knows about Project G, then Zack Fair has become a potential security risk," said Veld.
Tseng raised his head. The implications of what Veld had just said were not slow to sink in. Zack's life was hanging in the balance.
"He won't talk," said Tseng.
"How can you be sure?"
"He'll want to protect Angeal's memory. If any of what happened at Modeoheim became public knowledge, it would dishonour Angeal."
"Of course, honour," mused Veld. "So Angeal infected Zack with his old-fashioned notions, did he? Probably no bad thing, from our point of view. Angeal knew how to make good SOLDIERs. Lazard won't find it easy to replace him."
"Lazard can't afford to lose any more First Classes," Tseng pointed out. "Morale in SOLDIER's rock bottom as it is. If Zack were to go missing in action, I think it would finish Lazard."
"But would that be a bad thing? You know I always thought it was a mistake to appoint him to SOLDIER. You don't put a loaded gun in the hands of a man with a grudge… especially when he's never handled a gun before in his life. Lazard's out of his depth, and without Angeal to hold them together, SOLDIER could easily become a liability for us."
"But don't you think, sir, that if Lazard were to go, SOLDIER would probably be transferred to Heidegger's command? It started off as part of the regular armed forces, didn't it? How would that benefit us? If Lazard can't afford to lose any more Firsts, we can't afford to lose any of our allies in the boardroom, and right now he and Reeve are the only ones we've got."
Veld smiled. "There's always Rufus."
Tseng was not amused. Seeing him frown, Veld gave his throaty chuckle. "Oh, cut the boy some slack. He only wants to impress you. And he's a clever little bugger when he wants to be. If he weren't who he is I might think seriously about recruiting him."
"Could we finish with Zack Fair, sir, please?"
The Commander sat back in his chair, cracking the knuckles of his real hand with his prosthetic fingers. "All right. You can have Zack, Tseng. For now. I trust your judgment, even though I know you're an old sentimentalist. But watch him."
"We already do, sir."
"Then watch him closer."
*
Surveillance Duty, 5th November 2001
At midday, high in the rafters of the Church, Knox hands over to Mink. She asks him, "Any sign of Zack Fair?" Knox shakes his head.
They both know what happened in Modeoheim. All the Turks have been briefed. They also know that the SOLDIER hasn't been to see his girlfriend since he returned from that mission, almost a week ago now.
Mink settles her back against the wall and puts her boots up on one of the barrels. Far below, the young girl in her striped summer dress is kneeling by her flowers. She tends to them as if they were children, stroking their petals and murmuring endearments. The towering stone walls and the vaulted ceiling act like an echo chamber, magnifying every sound she makes up. From up here, Mink can even hear Aerith breathing.
Nothing more exciting than that will happen; nothing ever happens, but Mink doesn't mind. She likes to be alone with her thoughts.
Four hours pass. Mink may have dozed off. The door to the church swings open loudly. Mink squints. There's not much light around the door, but she can make out a dark-haired figure in black. She sits up, wondering if it's the boss.
The figure walks forward, passes through one of the rainbows of light falling through the stained-glass windows, and she sees it is Zack Fair. The sword wound on his left jaw is raw, ugly.
Aerith jumps up and runs to greet him. But he's changed since the last time Mink saw him. The easy warmth, the boyish grin, are gone. He holds himself stiffly; tries to smile, but fails. Aerith falters. Her arms, raised in welcome, drop to her sides.
He tells her to go back to the flowers; he just wants to sit down quietly and watch her for a while. OK, she says, puzzled, but willing to go along with whatever he asks. He takes a seat in one of the pews. Aerith bends down with her back to him, running her fingers coaxingly along the flowers' leaves. Zack stares at her, unblinking. Does he see her? What is he seeing? His face is blank with grief.
Mink knows that look, so well.
After a while he gets restless and asks Aerith if she wants to go find something to eat. She is happy to agree. They head off towards the Sector 5 market; Mink slips along discretely behind. Aerith puts her hand in his. He grasps it so tightly the girl winces. They wander rather aimlessly from stall to stall. Mink guesses neither of them is really hungry. It's just something to do. Zack buys two apples from the fruit stall – dry, wrinkled, dusty things, but as good as you'll get down in the slums. Aerith bites into hers. Zack's fingers close round his. He says to Aerith, In Banora, the apples are blue…
Where's Banora? asks Aerith.
In Mideel. It was. It's not there any more.
Why, what happened to it?
It doesn't matter, says Zack.
They walk on, and after a while the apple falls from his hand, forgotten.
Aerith knows something's wrong, thought she doesn't know what. She can tell he's not really with her. Mink sees the determination come into her face: the girl's smooth jaw has set firm. Aerith's decided to fix it. She'll find some way to get through to him, some way to make him look at her and smile.
She says, Let's go back to the Church.
They're out of Mink's sight while she climbs back up into the rafters. Once in position, she sees that Aerith is again tending to the flowers, while Zack is sitting on the wooden floor of the nave. They have their backs to each other. Afternoon is turning to evening. Sunrise and sunset are the only times the slums get any direct light, when the sun, low on the horizon, shoots its fading rays under the plate, and for perhaps a quarter of an hour gilds the homes and faces of the poor with a transient loveliness.
Aerith raises her face to the roof. Mink shrinks back into the shadows, but it's the hole in the roof Aerith's looking at. In the evening light, the plate above their heads has turned to gold.
She says, Hey, Zack, the sky is closer in the city above, right? Kind of scary. She turns towards him. But the flowers might like it, maybe….
He's crying.
His whole body is shaking with sobs. The sound of his hopelessness fills the Church.
Aerith hesitates.
Do it, thinks Mink, do it, do it.
Aerith walks over to Zack, kneels beside him. She put her arms around his shaking shoulders, lays her cheek against his wounded face. He clutches at her. Aerith. I'm going to pieces.
She kisses him gently, on the temple, just beside the ear. Her fingertips stroke the skin of his neck, the way she touches the flowers. Zack's breath comes in shuddering gasps. Aerith's arms tighten around him. She closes her eyes. Her lips move across his face, kissing his eyebrows, his eyelids, his scarred jaw, his salty cheeks, until at last her mouth finds his.
Both of them are shaking now.
He returns her kiss, tentatively at first, then with increasing passion. His hands run down her arms. Their fingers interlock. She leans into him, pressing herself against his body. One of his hands moves to hold her by the hip, then slowly feels its way upward along the line of her flank to cup her little breast.
Aerith's eyes fly open. There is heat in them, and joy.
She looks straight up, straight into Mink's face.
In the shock of being seen, and the instant understanding that Aerith has known all along she was there, Mink can do nothing but stare back.
Aerith's mouth forms the words Go away.
Speechless, Mink nods.
She slips silently through the hole in the roof and walks along the fallen girders to a spot touched by an evening sunbeam. Here she sits. She gives them an hour by her PHS clock. When she returns to the Church, they are gone. A part of the flower bed has been crushed. For a moment it strikes Mink as oddly careless that they would have lain on Aerith's precious flowers. Then she realizes that the flowers don't mind. Their bruised petals are giving off an intense aroma, lavender mixed with rose, the smell of happiness and peace. Inhaling their fragrance, Mink's own heart lifts.
Who is this girl? Mink's never asked questions; she makes a point of it. But now she can't help wondering.
She's not got Reno's nose, but the flower smell is so strong that it's easy to track Zack and Aerith through the slums. Nothing else smells like flowers down here. In any case, Mink can guess where they're heading. She was a young girl too, once. She catches up to them as they reach the gate of Elmyra Gainsborough's house, and watches them go in. It looks like Elmyra is out. Mink takes up position in the shadows of an alley opposite, and settles down to watch the street.
It's 19.57 by her PHS when she sees Elmyra appear in the distance, carrying a shopping bag. Mink picks up a couple of pebbles and throws them at Aerith's window. If that doesn't work, the Turk will think of some other stratagem. But just as Elmyra is turning in the gate, Zack Fair exits through the back door, vaults over the fence, and set off down the street at a run. Mink manages to catch a glimpse of his face as he passes. He's smiling.
Oh Aerith, thinks Mink, wise girl. Wise woman.
There's no need to keep watching Aerith now that her foster mother is home. Mink sets off after Zack, tails him all the way back to HQ. When she gets back up to the office she sits down straight away and conscientiously writes her surveillance report. She emails it to Tseng as an encrypted attachment. Then she runs through the password sequence for logging off, powers down, tidies some files, and takes herself to bed, feeling that something good has happened today. For a change.