Warning: Voluntary, assisted mass-suicide in this chapter. Skip the section starting with "It was an unseasonably cool day" if this may distress you.

There was a lot of sound discussion about the topic covered today, when it was first raised back in chapter 13 (and even earlier, with the rat). I personally, if terminally ill, would make the choice that many make in this chapter and so, naturally, the story is more sympathetic to that angle. I do however respect that for some, the topic is rather more incendiary - and is absolutely something that could be exploited terribly.

Not edited. Please let me know of any issues you see, they are always fixed in my personal copy to eventually be repaired in the final version.

Earth

"Hey, kid." Despite having been in a coma for over a year, Mike looked tired. Considering he was smiling, sitting upright and not plugged into a single machine, he looked bloody fantastic.

"Hey." Harry couldn't help but smile broadly back. Weight seemed to fall off of his shoulders, weight he hadn't realised had been there since the night the man before him had taken a bullet for him.

Morning light streamed weakly into a room that was a far sight different than the clinical place Harry had visited Mike's stored body. It had actual furniture for one, with cushions and curtains and a bed that looked both comfortable and fixed in place. Only the wall behind the bed revealed that Mike wasn't out of the medical woods yet, displaying a variety of brain and body readings fed to it by little sensor patches on his bodyguard's body.

A tray of food - none of that nutritional slop the RDA liked to provide - was just to the side of the bed and Harry helped himself to parts that Mike clearly hadn't wanted before taking a seat. Yuki knelt gracefully at his side, head down in 'privacy mode'. Amazon leaned against the door, her own version of 'privacy mode' consisting pretty much of an expression of aggressive boredom.

"You know, they'd told me it'd been awhile, but I don't think I really believed 'em until now." Mike observed. "You are not the same skinny strip I got assigned to, I swear. How you been, kid?"

"Good, thanks to you." Harry shrugged. "It feels like it's been no time at all and a million years at the same time. Busy, crazy busy, but good. If it weren't for my bodyguard giving me grey hairs, I'd be pretty much perfect."

"Sounds like an asshole." Mike agreed. "I mean, doing his job? Really? The nerve of that guy."

Harry laughed.

"Yeah. But seriously. Thank you, but please don't ever do that again. I can't take the stress."

"No promises." Mike smiled. "I don't just do the job for the money, you know. I'm glad you weren't hurt. Although," the man forced his tone into something more lighthearted "I hear you upgraded while I was gone. Amazon-class, right? That. Is. Keen."

"She's alright." Harry agreed with a shrug. "But she's no Mike. Then again," he frowned mockingly "So far she's managed not to put herself on life support for over a year, so yeah. She's got you beat."

Mike folded his arms, pouting exaggeratedly. "Damned robot takin' my job." He grumbled. "Although," he frowned, serious this time. "Nobody's told me much of anything but from what I've seen on the news - you've still only got the one guard? There are kids out there whose first words will be 'Harry Potter' and nobody's upped your security? An Amazon-class is good, granted, but there's a reason humans still work the job. And with the amount of travel you seem to be doing… I don't like it. Why the hell haven't the RDA sprung for a proper escort group?"

Harry blinked. He hadn't really thought of the RDA much in recent months. Even his communication with David as the liaison-slash-social worker was done through Yuki nowadays, mostly in the form of keeping the man updated on his movements as he was still technically a ward of the company.

"Maybe… because I could afford to get one myself?" He guessed. "I mean, there's gotta be a limit on what they're willing to pay for just because they decided to 'be helpful' after they found me. And I have a lot of money not really doing anything. I dunno."

"They still should have raised the topic with you at least." Mike said seriously, brows furrowed. "I guess someone just dropped the ball… but. Still."

"I've been fine, for the most part." Harry shrugged, a little uncomfortable. For all that he'd resented Amazon at first, he'd gotten used to her. And cracks about hospitalisation aside, she had actually saved his life at least a few times - twice by sniffing out a bomb before he'd gotten anywhere near it, a couple by blocking a shot and once by identifying toxins in his food before he even started eating. He felt… safe, with her. And there was comfort in the notion that no matter how badly she was injured, she could be repaired. She might be more of a person than he'd initially given her credit for, but she wasn't alive and so she couldn't be killed.

Unlike Mike. Mike, who he really liked and also felt safe with - but now also felt fear at having him die in the line of duty.

"Well, if you change your mind" Mike said after a long silence. "Just say the word. I'll get something put together."

Harry nodded.

"So!" Mike changed the subject. "Birthday soon, right? The big One-Eight?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, 17 is the age of majority in the wizarding world." He groused. "It's 18 for Muggles."

"Well, it's 21 here." Mike grinned. "It changed to 21 back in Jolly Old England too, just so's you know. They finally cottoned on to the fact that 18 year olds are still dumb kids in mind if not body."

"Didn't you join the army when you were eighteen?" Harry shot back.

"Yup. Like I said: Dumb kids. I signed up to get shot at before I could even vote or buy liquor. It don't get much dumber."

"Well, thanks for helping to lower society's expectation of us." Harry rolled his eyes. "But if anyone comes at me talking about conscription or bedtimes, I'm going to exert my adult Wizard's right to turn them into a newt."

"Sure you can get it up enough?" Mike cackled. "Way I remember it, you need some, ah… 'stimulants', for that these days."

Harry twitched. Mike kept laughing.

Earth

It was an unseasonably cool day when Harry stood in front of over sixty people - many of them missing limbs or on portable life support - and prepared to to kill them.

They were standing within the enclosed area intended to be a new haven of green growth in the middle of a heavily polluted city. Harry had had a lot of influence in choosing the final location and had leant in favour of the final choice. It was the very same park where he'd first explored his new reality, where he'd met Madeline Roux as well as Boxy, Buddy & Mia. It was the place where not even grass had grown between cracks in the pavement, a large space sandwiched between four towering apartment buildings home to over a thousand low-income families, all of whom would be allowed to open their windows into the new enclosed space of purified air and look out over towering trees and lush green grass.

If everything went to plan, that was. If not, they'd be looking out over one of the largest mass-suicides in recent years and he would never lose the stigma of being a part of it.

At his insistence, the risks of the venture had been in capital letters on every page of the legal document all volunteers had to read and sign. Every volunteer had a mandatory 'cool off' period of months (mostly served while Roux had been trying to find a cure for Mike's condition) as well as mandatory counseling. Harry had wanted to also add a counter-offer of money to not do it (ideally for medical treatment, as some were terminally ill simply for lack of funds to get better) but Roux had rejected the notion out-of-hand, saying the influx of false volunteers would cripple both his finances and the project.

He had done everything he could, to make it clear how uncertain the fate of this project was. How risky it was. How certain their death would be, potentially in exchange for nothing at all. Now, standing before him, was his last chance to get any of them to walk away.

"Good afternoon." He said clearly, well-used to public speaking by now. In the distance, media companies would be recording every second of whatever happened. Out of 'respect' for those about to die, none were permitted within biological eyeshot.

"Thank you for coming here today. All of you have read and signed the various agreements required for such a risky undertaking but before we go any further, I want to make a couple of things completely clear. One: It is not too late. Any or all of you can leave right now. You don't have to do this. There is no shame in changing your mind at the last second - in fact, I'll be grateful if you do." He paused. Waited. Gave people time to think, to worry.

None seemed to. Everyone he looked at met his eyes with calm confidence.

"This is completely unprecedented." He said frankly. "We have no idea if it will work. You should, every one of you, assume that it won't. That you will die today, for nothing. Or that even if it does work, it might not last. Please. In about ten seconds, we're going to turn the lights off except for the exit lights, for thirty seconds. The doors are fixed open. Anyone who wants to change their mind but is maybe a bit shy about doing it can just leave then. There are no punitive measures in your contracts. In fact, just for you lot, since this is the very first and possibly only trial, I will personally pay the medical bills for anyone who chooses to leave."

That got a bit of a reaction. Nothing overt, just a general shifting of bodies and expressions.

His implant pinged him a warning as the lights slowly dimmed into darkness. Harry stood still, momentarily blinded except for a vague outline of people standing closest to the emergency exits. He thought he heard movement, maybe one or two people, but wasn't sure if they were just shifting or actively leaving. By the time the lights had come back on, he still honestly didn't know.

"Okay then." He said heavily, as the exits were remotely closed. "You've all gone through this in practice before. Let's get into position."

He stepped down and moved through the shuffling people. People who smiling at him, brushing against him or stepping politely out of his way. People who were less than a minute away from death.

He came to a halt in the centre of them all. Everyone was wearing special shirts made of non-organic materials that were lab-proven to be difficult to break down for energy. Each had a different colour along the shoulders, indicating which concentric circle their wearer should be standing in. Each had their wearer's name embroidered prominently on it and all would be put on display no matter what happened - a tribute to those choosing to give their lives, be it in vain or otherwise.

Harry swallowed tightly as the innermost circle began to gently but firmly place their hands on him, his own special shirt allowing them to touch slips of his skin along his shoulders, arms, chest and back. Likewise, slips of their own skin would be touched by the people standing behind and to the side of them, and so on and so forth until the entire group were linked like spider web of living beings.

The lights changed, moving from spotlight to the warmer 'false sunlight' intended to encourage natural growth. The air was already muggy and damp, to help new growth along. The old tangle of metal play equipment had been removed and the bitumen ground had been broken up, stripped away and replaced with a significant depth of varying soil types. Appropriate plant saplings and seeds had already been put in place. Everything was ready.

Harry was fucking terrified.

An old man in front of him met his eyes and smiled encouragingly. His eyes crinkled as his leathery hand squeezed ever-so-slightly tighter.

Harry slammed his eyes shut, not wanting to see that, to see any of them. To have to remember them.

As much to avoid the moment as to proceed to the inevitable, he reached within him for the quirk of biology that he never should have admitted to having.

All around him, was life. The planet beneath his feet and within his lungs, faltering and weak. The tiny smudges of energy around him, linked to him, burning like candle flames - so strong and powerful in the dark, despite their brief existences. The fading plants around him, already too fragile and already dying once removed from the systems that had cultivated them.

He took a long, deep breath - and pulled.

As fast as he could but not too fast. It had to be slow enough, steady enough, that the candles of life surrounding him burned hard and strong - giving up their all, both now and what had yet to burn. He took all of it, needed all of it, if this plan was to have a chance at working.

Only when he'd gathered it all, kept it burning fiercely in his chest like it could (would) kill him if held too long, did he turn his focus to the failing life beyond it.

He forced his mind away from the cold places where no candles burned anymore. From the chill breeze against skin no longer sheltered.

Carefully, desperately, he poured his gathered power into the seeds and seedlings and saplings. Urged them to grow deep and strong, roots striking down to find nourishment, leaves flaring to catch what they'd need to sustain them in the future. He strained himself to settle the plants into their new environment, to soften the shock of transit and transplantation, to get them to a point where they could tough their way through the initial adjustment period until the planned micro-climate stabilised.

The power ran out far too quickly. There were a hundred other things he wanted to do, but simply could not. He'd brought neither unobtanium nor avalonium with him - he couldn't. The project viability depended on true, affordable, base results. To cheat it by bringing in extra power would be to spit on the sacrifices these people - oh god, they were gone, they were gone - had made.

He fell to his knees, completely drained for the first time in over a year. Only then did he open his eyes.

Crumpled shirts lay in circles around him, macabre markers to what he'd just done. Some were slightly peaked, resting on various metal or inorganic elements that had been inside bodies or supporting limbs. There was no blood. There had been no screams, or sounds of suffering. It was… almost clean.

He barely managed not to throw up right then and there.

He felt dirty. Stained. Sick. He barely even noticed the wealth of green grass flowing on all sides, the brush of rich leaves rustling against each other overhead. He trembled as he stood, wanting desperately to run but unable to stop seeing the proof of what he'd done laid out before him.

And that smile. That old man's smile.

A sob caught in his throat as someone came to his side, held his arm, gently supporting his weight as he staggered away. He was moved swiftly into cover, away from the media's ever-watchful eyes. There'd be more speeches, he knew. More tests. He wanted nothing to do with any of it.

He'd done what he'd promised. Upheld the bargain made in desperation that now he wished he'd never made. But never again.

Never again.

Earth

"It's disgusting! It's murder! And everyone who went along with it, like lambs to the slaughter - weak fucking cowards, every one of them. They just wanted to go out with a bang, to have a big fuss made and get some fame before they died anyway. And to think that-"

"-Harry Potter 'assisted in the suicide' of 64 people today in what some are calling 'science gone mad'. Although the act may have been legal, many are calling foul on both ethical and religious grounds as-"

"-feels wrong that it was so easy-"

"-is this what magic is? Turning lives into currency?!"

"I am a card-carrying member of the GLF myself and you know what I see? Efficiency. Those people weren't helping nobody! They were living hard, miserable lives that probably cost them or their families a lot of money and now-"

"-for a bit of greenery?! What, there's something wrong with fake grass allavasudden? It was good enough for three generations of my family but now that we can suddenly trade lives for bits of bug-infested ground-cover, it's okay to-"

"-say it was too quick. I mean, it took hundreds of years to cause all that damage and now we can just snap our fingers to fix it? There's something they're not telling us-"

"-how do we know he hasn't killed people before this? Maybe that how his magic wor-"

"Well it's the cycle of life isn't it? I think it's beautiful. In fact, as you all know, I've been battling stage four cancer since-"

"-and where does it end?! Those people were sick dying. What would he be able to do if they had been healthy? Or children? How long until we find out?"

"What kind of person even does something like that?

Ah, I think the question is, what kind of person wouldn't?"

"Well I guess we've finally put a value on human life."

Earth

Time slipped away from him as he all but hid in his apartment.

His houseplants had wilted and withered in his absence and he tossed every one of them into the trash. To feed them up again, even from the ambient run-off of magic that he generated naturally… no. He just couldn't.

Mike moved back in, still technically on medical leave but capable of picking up the day-to-day management of his security. Harry heard snippets of the backlash of 'The Greening', as people were calling it, as Michael flicked through various channels and liaised with Pete from the RDA about increased threat levels. Apparently, even though the event had been public knowledge while being planned, it hadn't really hit people until there'd been video footage of it actively happening.

Of people being all but devoured in order to feed other lives.

Yuki was concerned about his stress levels and he knew she was filtering his communications more heavily than usual. He didn't mind, he trusted the bot in a way he couldn't trust any human secretary. Even if both did exactly the same thing, he knew that from Yuki it was a programmed response and not a feeling that he suddenly couldn't cope or needed to be babied. Also, Yuki was hard-wired with loyalty and confidentiality, which was a hell of a lot more than even the most trusted friend could say.

Right now, she was letting him sprawl over her silk-enclosed lap and giving him a scalp massage that could have remotely killed Voldemort through sheer good feelings alone. She'd even tapped Amazon to give him a foot-rub. Although the kill-bot didn't have the fine dexterity the companion bot had, she was human enough to do a pretty decent job.

And the feeling of skin on skin was… nice. Human. Mike might have wasted no time in teasing him about it, but he'd grown to be grateful for both of them. He knew they weren't human, but his body could be tricked, and… it felt good. Closeness. Familiarity. Safe.

He hadn't done anything more since Mike had moved back in and, not gonna lie, part of him was real salty about that.

But right now? Everything was real good.

"Unofficial update." Yuki reported at a low murmur. "Japan's National Institute of Science and sub-department specialising in space colonisation is in talks with the RDA about expansion and improved transit to Pandora."

"What're they wanting?" Harry mumbled.

"No formal requests made as yet." Yuki replied serenely. "But it is likely that Japan will exchange exclusive use of the inter-planetary portal design with the RDA for unchecked colonisation rights. RDA is likely to continue to refuse mining rights however, and recent action within their legal department indicates they may attempt to broaden the definition of their current mining rights from mineral to all native substances. Still, proceeds and taxes from colonists would belong to Japan."

"RDA don't have authority to approve colonisation." Harry frowned. "Who even would?"

"Technically, nobody can authorise colonisation. However, 'first come first served' is likely to become the reality. Pandora is listed as a tenanted planet, home to sentient beings. Legally speaking, they are recognised as having ownership of their own world - but legal fictions allowing unchecked exploitation are far from uncommon. The RDA themselves technically purchased the right to mine from them but, we only have their word for such things.

The RDA do, however, have the power to make colonisation difficult or easy for other parties. They could provide the required unobtanium to fuel the creation and maintenance of large, industrial-use gates - or they could sell it at a premium. They also have the power and funds to transport the required initial construction teams to build the Pandoran gate - or they could refuse to sell passage entirely. They have effective authority, if not technical."

"Right. QAEGs, not governments." Harry muttered. "Too bad the UN never made it. Wait!" He shot upright, yanking his feet from Amazon's hands. The killbot scowled at him and flumped onto the bed hard enough to nearly bounce him off of it.

"I'm still the only one who can active the runes on those things. Right? The Norwegian guys haven't managed their 'rune-sparker' yet."

"Yes sir."

"But the gate that was tested on the moon was pre-activated. It was small enough to be fixed in place and then moved. What's the plan for… are they expecting to set up and shift something the size of Stonehenge?"

"Possible, but unlikely due to multiple factors. Again, nothing formal has been put forward as yet, but the safest, cheapest and easiest solution would be to transport all native required materials to Pandora - including yourself - and build the Pandoran gate from scratch. This prevents the danger of explosive decoupling, should there be any issues in transit and also potentially improves your ability convert materials tenfold."

"Improve my… oh."

Oh. Of course. If a chip of Unobtanium contained oceans of energy to consume and convert… what would it be like to be on the planet it came from? To swim in infinite energy, no drain to be concerned with. And once the gate was set up? He could walk back and forth, step from planet to planet, restore the Earth at a flood instead of a trickle, fed from a world that had so much to spare it was stored in its bones.

"Right." He decided. "Keep me posted, and look into what would be needed to tie things up here, just in case. It's a six-year journey, right?"

"Yes sir. Due to your legal status, all rights default to the RDA in your absence. Additionally, due to the six year transit being spent in cryosleep, your age of majority will be determined to be biological and not chronological."

"So when I wake up I'll still be almost-eighteen and they'll still own my ass."

"As you say, sir." Yuki smirked. Harry grinned back and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her on top of him and rolling them onto an unamused Amazon. Yuki laughed, pristine nails coming up to scritch fondly through his hair. Harry was just sliding his hands a little lower when Amazon shoved them both off onto the floor and stalked out.

"Harry!" Mike called from the living room as he snickered into Yuki's throat. "Your killbot is looking at me! Make it stop!"

"You're head of security." Harry called back. "You do it."

"And get put back in the hospital? Forget it. Now stop moping and come save me already!"

Harry shook his head with a smile as he got to his feet and helped Yuki to hers.

It had been worth it. No matter how he felt about it, it had been worth it. Those people had got what they wanted and he… he got what he'd wanted. He'd built himself a new home here out of the ruins of what he'd lost and it was good. And he'd do whatever it took to keep it safe.

No matter what.

Earth

In Harry's defence, I don't think he's quite conceptualised what it would mean to suck the life out of one planet for the sake of his own. At his age, not sure if that'd stop him.