CHAPTER 30: THE SLEEP OF REASON
In which both Veld and Rufus attempt to explain themselves to Tseng, and Tseng finds himself left in charge

Night fell on the hills of Corel. For three hours the Turks had been searching the smouldering ruins of the reactor, turning over every twisted sheet of metal, digging under every chunk of scorched concrete, calling Aviva's name. Now they were taking a short rest, gathered around the little fire Skeet had made from brushwood he'd gleaned on the hillside. They were hungry, and tired, and thirsty, and they were determined not to give up.

Rufus rose from the rock where he had been sitting alone, at some distance from the others, and walked up the hillside to stand beside Tseng, who, for perhaps the thirtieth time, was scanning the wreckage with a pair of binoculars.

"Face it," said Rufus. "She's dead."

Tseng put down the binoculars, gave him a long look of contempt, and returned to searching for some sign of the lost Turk.

"Tseng – "

"Don't bother."

Rufus sighed. "I realize that whatever I say now is going to sound like a poor attempt to excuse myself, but you have to believe me when I tell you that it wasn't meant to be like this. They were supposed to kill my father – "

"Shut up."

"- in Junon, three years ago, but that failed, and then again last year, when they ended up kidnapping Hojo instead. Then they were meant to do it at the rocket launch, in April, but they failed me again. What Veld said back there… Surely you can see it isn't true? I've never controlled them. Fuhito's never done what I wanted him to do. They were using me all along – "

Tseng cut him off with a gesture. Pointing down the hill at his Turks, he said, "The only reason they haven't killed you is because of who your father is. I'd say you should be ashamed of yourself, but I know you're incapable of it. Just get away from me."

Rufus was momentarily silenced.

Then he began again, "If you weren't so good at what you do – "

"Tseng?" the Commander's voice called out of the darkness. "Can you come here?"

"Coming, sir." Tseng turned to Rufus. "Stay here. Keep away from them. Don't provoke them. And don't try to escape."

"Of course I won't," said Rufus. "Where would I go?"

.

Tseng ran down the hill to the shadows beyond the firelight, where Commander Veld stood waiting for him. In his hand Veld held a torch, which he shone down a path that led away from the Turks' little camp and into the wilderness. "Walk with me," he said.

The path was narrow. Veld led; Tseng followed. Neither of them spoke, but Tseng knew what was coming, and he had already made up his mind what he was going to do. Wherever the Commander went, he would go.

They walked for perhaps five, ten minutes, up and over a hill. Then Veld stopped, turned off his torch, and turned around. Above them the sky was pitch black, velvety black: the dust thrown up by the explosion had blotted out the moon and the stars. The only light was the reddish-green glow from the smouldering reactor on the other side of the hill, and all Tseng could see of Veld's face was a faint white glimmer where his eyes were, a quick flash of teeth when he opened his mouth to say,

"I have to leave you here."

"I'm – "

"No," Veld cut him short. "You're not coming with me. That's an order. You have a job to do. This is my business, not yours. Not Shinra's."

Tseng knew it was his duty to remain calm. The Commander wasn't thinking rationally. Of course, the shock had overwhelmed him. AVALANCHE were very cunning.

"Sir, I understand how much you want to believe that Elfe is your daughter – "

Veld made a snarling noise. "No you don't. You have no idea. I know you think you do, but you can't even begin to imagine. She's my child."

And what am I?

"Sir, I'm sorry, but that can't be true. It's impossible. You said she was dead."

"I was told she was dead."

"Who told you she was dead?"

Veld did not immediately answer. The gleam that was the whites of his eyes flicked downwards, then across at the ruined reactor, then off to the right, anywhere but into Tseng's eyes – and Tseng, unnerved by this hesitancy in someone normally so direct, sensed that he was about to be told something that would change his world forever –

"Hojo," said Veld bleakly.

No! – Tseng bit down on his tongue so as not to blurt it out loud.

Veld said, "I never told you what happened – "

Don't –

" – After the accident – "

Don't tell me. I don't want the burden of your secrets -

"No, the bombing. The bombing I ordered – "

But they said it had been a mistake. Broken line of communication. Wrong coordinates. It wasn't your fault –

"After Kalm was bombed, Hojo told me to take them to Nibelheim – "

"Nibelheim?"

"His lab was there – "

"Who?"

"What?"

"You said 'take them'. Who? Take who?"

"The survivors – "

"Like in Nibelheim?"

"Yes."

"The same cover-up?"

"Yes."

"That's what you meant what you said it had been done before?"

"Yes, dammit."

For a moment, neither of them could speak.

Veld rubbed a hand over his eyes. "My wife – she was dead. But Felicia…. when I got her to Nibelheim, she was still alive. But barely. And I'd lost my arm. I knew Hojo could fix me. I thought he could fix her. So I – "

I don't want to hear this; I don't want to have to understand -

" – I gave her to him. I gave her to him, Tseng. I knew what he was doing with the others, but I thought – I thought he understood she was mine. I thought he could save her. After they worked on my arm I was out of it for almost a week. When I woke up, he told me she was dead."

"Didn't you ask to see the body?"

"He said it had been destroyed. In the process."

"What process?"

"Of trying to keep her alive. My memory is that he said that, but maybe I simply assumed."

Tseng stared at this man he had known all his life, and for a moment it felt as if he was looking at a stranger. "The Professor told you she was dead, and you believed him? Knowing what he's like?"

"Yes! It made sense – No, I mean it was what I deserved. Why should I have been allowed to save her, when so many people had died because of me?"

Both men fell silent. From over the hill they heard voices: Skeet, Reno, Mink, preparing to continue the search for Aviva. They sounded much further away than they really were.

"You made us leave Nibelheim," said Tseng, remembering.

"Not soon enough."

"You didn't let him have Mozo."

"I didn't want you to become like me. There are some things nobody should be asked to do."

"But that's what we're for, isn't it? Because somebody has to do them. When I was young, you told me that. You said we get our hands dirty so that other people won't have to." Tseng hesitated, then added, "I was proud of that. It made me feel that I… had value."

"Yes. It was designed to. After all, you had no choice, did you? But I had a choice. What I did to you… Maybe you'd have been better off if I'd left you where I found you – "

"Please don't say that."

"Ifalna's the one who said it. She wanted me to send you away, back to Wutai, put you in school there. Give you a chance…"

Veld had to pause for a moment, breathe deeply, pull himself together. Tseng waited, his heart sick and heavy in his chest, and soon Veld went on:

"But I couldn't bear to let you go. Especially after Felicia died. I never meant to make you in my image, Tseng. I just wanted you to live. You were such a little scrapper. I knew you could be someone if you just had a chance. I wanted to give you a life that was worth living. But this was all I had."

The suggestion implicit in Veld's words – that Tseng's life had been a mistake, that Veld had screwed up, that he was sorry – hurt the younger Turk with a pain that was almost beyond bearing.

He wanted to raise an objection, defend himself; defend his Commander, too. "You made me – " he tried to say, but his breath seemed trapped in his throat. He squared his shoulders, and tried again. "You made me useful – "

"More than useful. So much more than useful. Don't you know that? Oh, my boy, come here – "

With both hands Veld reached out and pulled his lieutenant into the kind of spine-bending, rib-cracking bear hug they had not exchanged since Tseng was nine or ten years old. Tseng, still hurt, still angry, and still, after all these years and all the things he had done for this man's sake, afraid - more afraid than ever, because the thing he had feared all his life was happening here, now, and there was nothing he could do to turn it aside, nobody he could fight - felt, in his helplessness, as if the years were falling away from him: he was a small boy again, clinging to the only rock he knew.

Veld released him and took a step back, his fists, the real one and the false one, resting lightly either side of Tseng's neck. He said, "If it hadn't been for you, son, I would have died when Felicia… When I thought I'd lost her."

"You were gone so long, and you were so different when you came back –"

"You were afraid of my arm, I remember. You couldn't stand to look at it."

"I tried not to show it."

"I know." Veld smiled at him. "You were always so transparent. I was ready to die when I lost Felicia, but you wouldn't let me. You needed me. I couldn't leave you. You made me want to live."

The Commander paused. "And now, you have to let me go."

"I can't –" Tseng choked. He could not finish the sentence.

"Yes, you can."

"I want to go with you."

"No one can come with me. You're needed here." He glanced past Tseng in the direction of the Turks' voices. "They need you. Without you, they'd be lost, and all my work would be wasted." Veld took hold of Tseng by the shoulders. "Listen to me. Listen. I'm coming back. I promise. I'm going to find my daughter and bring her back. You have to hold the fort until I return."

"It might not be her. It could easily be a ruse to weaken us by luring you away."

"I'm fully aware of that." The words were one thing: sensible, cautious. Veld's tone was another - full of hope, and longing to believe. "It doesn't make any difference. I have to find her. I have to know. Tseng, listen to me. Are you listening?"

"Yes, sir."

"There are practical things we need to discuss. The first is this. Don't let any of the others try to follow me. You have to hold them together. Keep them busy. Keep their pride up. The second is money. I need you to sort that out for me. The Old Man's bound to freeze my bank accounts when he finds out I'm gone. You'll have to open a new account for me with First Midgar. Put it in the name of Peter Fielding. Got that?"

"Peter Fielding?"

"It's an old alias. I haven't used it for years. Write to me when you've set up the account to let me know the details. You can send it to Peter Fielding care of the inn in Costa del Sol."

"You'll stay in touch?"

"Don't count on it. I'm not going to compromise your safety. Here's my keys." He was sounding more like his usual self now. Curt. Briskly efficient. Impatient to tie up the loose ends so that he could be gone. "What else? Oh, of course - Rufus."

"Does the President know we have him?"

"Yes. You'll need to take him back tomorrow. He's to be held on the secret floor for the time being. Nobody outside the department knows about his connection with AVALANCHE, and the President wants to keep it that way. As far as the Board's concerned, he's gone off on another business trip. I don't know how long the Old Man intends his punishment to last, but…. "

"What, sir?"

"Hang on to him as long as you can. See if you can make him one of us - for his own sake as much as ours. His father's combination of neglect and indulgence has nearly ruined that boy. There's a lot that's rotten in Rufus, but there's a lot that's worth saving, too, and I believe the bad is only skin-deep. He looks up to you; that's a sign that all is not lost, yet. I think you could make something useful out of him. To coin a phrase." Veld paused. "Kill them all, but not Tseng, eh?"

Tseng's features contorted in disgust. "He's already started with his specious excuses…"

"Turks don't make excuses. You'll have to teach him that."

Veld paused. Placing his hands on Tseng's shoulders, he pulled him forward and stared deeply into his face, eyes straining through the darkness as if determined to commit every lash and pore to memory. Then, swiftly and firmly, he turned Tseng around to face in the direction of the other Turks' voices.

"Don't look back," he said. "You'll want to be able to say you don't know which direction I went in."

Faithfully Tseng retraced his steps along the path to the top of the hill. Here he stopped. From this vantage point he could look down on the glowing wreckage, the silhouettes of the Turks moving around their fire, and over on the slope of hillside to the right he could see the figure of Rufus standing perfectly still, a patch of grey again the matt black sky. There was a part of Tseng, the better part, the Turk in him, that would have liked to obey Veld's last order absolutely, and walk on without a backward glance. But he could not make himself do it. He turned; his eyes searched the darkness for some sign of movement, and after a moment he switched on his torch and shone its beam back in the direction he had come. But Veld was gone, and there was nothing to be seen.

.

None of the Turks wanted to stop looking for Aviva. Eventually Tseng reached a compromise: he would leave two of them behind to continue the search, and take the rest back to the helicopters, so that they could eat and sleep. Though they were almost dead on their feet, everyone wanted to stay; a quarrel threatened to break out, exacerbated by their fatigue and their hunger, which Tseng resolved by choosing Skeeter and Reno. He told them that as soon as he reached the helicopters he would fly back and drop them some supplies, and in the morning they would be relieved.

"We'll keep looking till we find her," Skeet insisted.

Tseng did not commit himself to a reply.

None of them, not even Tys, had asked him where the Commander was. He suspected they were not asking for the same reason he was not telling. There was a limit to how much they could bear.

Tseng made the others go ahead of him, following the lower tracks across the brick viaduct and the trestle. Rufus he kept tight by his side at the rear. The walk took almost two hours. As they trudged on in the darkness, their anger against the Vice-President grew more vocal; by the time they reached the helicopters Tseng did not dare to leave Rufus alone with them, so he handcuffed the boy to the co-pilot's seat and took him along while he flew the supplies to Skeeter and Reno.

By the time he returned, the Turks were almost all asleep, either curled up in the helicopters or rolled in blankets on the grass. Hunter alone remained awake, still keeping watch, valiant in her steadfastness at this most humble of tasks. Tseng felt a dawning respect for her. Perhaps, as the Commander had always believed, she did have what it took. "It's OK," he told her. "Get some rest now."

Inside his own helicopter he locked the doors, spread blankets on the floor, and then, accepting there was no help for it, fastened one of the handcuffs around Rufus' ankle, and the other around his own. Rufus watched his movements with a detached curiosity, the way the office cat sometimes did.

"Is this how it's going to be from now on?" Rufus asked. From his tone it was difficult to tell whether he found their enforced closeness a good thing, a bad thing, or a thing indifferent.

He is a burden to me, thought Tseng. A burden, and a duty, that I did not seek. But what am I to him? A friend? Is that how he sees me? A kind of big brother? His rescue party? His old retainer? His slave?

There was something in Rufus' face that reminded Tseng of Cissnei. It was not simply that they were both traitors; not just the selfishness of beauty. The impassivity in the youth's face, the coolness of his nerves, his fearless eyes, were the mask to a passionate determination. He would never give up. This was a set back, nothing more.

In that moment, Tseng hated him.

Turning on his side, he edged as far away from Rufus as the cuffs would allow. Rufus did not speak again. Soon, from the shallowness of his breathing, Tseng could tell he was asleep. The floor of the helicopter was hard and cold; the blankets were thin and scratchy. In the quietness Tseng could hear his own heart beating. Despite his exhaustion, he took a long time to fall asleep.

He was woken by the sound of a phone ringing in his ear.

"Tseng? It's me."

Painful hope filled Tseng's breast. He could neither speak nor breathe.

"Don't talk," said Veld. "Just listen. I've found Aviva. She's alive, but she's unconscious. The one called Shears rescued her. They fell together into the mako pit. She's taken a heavy dose. You need to come get her. I've left her in a grove of flowering trees next to a stream about an hour's flight south-west of the reactor. It's unmissable, but just to be on the safe side I'm leaving this phone switched on with her. You can track the signal if you need to." Veld paused, and said softly, "Tseng?"

"I'm here."

"I've been thinking. Do you remember what Ifalna Gast said to me, the day you – the day she died? That I didn't know what I was looking for, and would find it when I least expected? I think this is what she meant. I think she knew Felicia wasn't dead. And she didn't tell me."

"Sir – "

"I told you she was cruel. But then again, I deserved it. Even if I find my daughter, I don't know if she'll forgive me. This is good-bye, Tseng. I won't be calling you again."

"Sir, wait – "

The line went dead.

"He's gone after her, hasn't he?" said Rufus, leaning up on one elbow.

Tseng did not bother to reply. Taking the key from his pocket, he unshackled himself and got to his feet. Rufus stretched and yawned. "I never even knew that Veld had a daughter. Or a family. I thought he'd always lived in the office. But still…. I can see that it might be true. Elfe could easily be Veld's child. The resemblance between them is striking, and not just in looks. What a bizarre coincidence."

"There's no coincidence," said Tseng, thinking, we reap what we sow.

"But then I'm forced to wonder, how can a man lose his own child and not know it?"

"I'm not going to discuss the Commander with you."

"Tseng, you know as well as I do that he's a marked man now, whether Elfe's his daughter or not. My father won't let him simply walk away like this, not with everything he's got inside his head. "

"There's no need to trouble the President with unfounded rumours," Tseng warned him. "The Commander is tailing AVALANCHE. That's all anyone needs to know."

The rest of the Turks were getting up. Soon the helicopters were airborne. Rude peeled away to pick up Skeet and Reno. Mink and Tys were sent on ahead to help Knox make preparations for Rufus' imprisonment. Tseng himself flew southwest, following Veld's directions, and found Aviva in the trees by the river, badly bruised and unconscious, though her pulse was strong. When he pushed back one of her eyelids he saw the white of the eye was tinted a faint blue. Hunter helped him lift Aviva into the helicopter. They set their course for Midgar, flying into the rising sun.

Rufus was back in the co-pilot's seat, hands and feet shackled. They had been flying for about half an hour when he sat up, suddenly alert, his eyes fixed out the port window. "Look at the smoke," he said. "Corel is burning. He must have sent in the army."

Hunter had seen it too, and was calling out to Tseng from the hold. Tseng pushed right on the cyclic, rolling the helicopter away towards the south. Rufus craned his neck, continuing to watch the smoke rise for as long as it remained in sight. Then he shifted round in his seat to look at Tseng. "You were at Banora, weren't you?" he demanded. "And then Nibelheim. And now Corel. Don't you see? This is the only answer he can think of. For everything." Angry frustration rose in Rufus' voice. "What's going to be left of this world when my time comes? A pile of ashes? It's such a waste. That's what I can't stand, Tseng. The waste."

Sorry it took so long to update. This chapter was the hardest of all so far to write. I'm still not sure about it, so if anyone has anything to say about what works or, more importantly, doesn't work for them, especially in the conversation between Tseng and Veld, I would welcome your comments.

Just in case any of my readers don't know, the title of this chapter is taken from a Goya etching, "The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters" which you can find here: .org/wiki/File:Francisco_de_Goya-_The_Sleep_of_Reason_Produces_