11

CHAPTER 11 – IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE

A life spent constantly on the move had robbed Ellone of a normal upbringing. But then, save for the two short years she'd lived with Laguna and Raine in Winhill, she'd never known anything of the sort. Whether as Adel's prisoner, in Edea's orphanage, or aboard the White SeeD Ship, she'd lived a sporadic, ever changing lifestyle. The only consolation had been the wide variety of places she'd been to over the years. Those brief times they would pull into port were the highlight of her daily existence. Whether urban or rural, civilized or unsettled, any break from the endless open sea was a welcome reprieve. Yet among them all, she knew no other place she'd ever seen could compare to Esthar.

The city skyline trailed on into the distance for miles. Row after row of sleek skyscrapers stretched up from the maze-like network of streets far below. Though their sizes, shapes, and building material varied, virtually all were outfitted with the same uniform, light blue window paneling to protect from the sun's rays. Roads ran not just on the ground level, but upon elevated highways snaking between the buildings. More impressive still were the vehicles. None were equipped with tires, but rather hover technology. Altogether, the sprawling metropolis was both grander in scale and more technologically advanced than any other on the face of the planet.

Ellone couldn't recall if it had always been so. Her memories of the city under Adel's rule were hazy at best, and without such a picturesque view to take it all in from. She'd had nothing but a cramped holding cell for her accommodations then. Now, given a private suite high up in the Presidential Palace, the week she'd spent in the capital thus far had been so much more comfortable, especially after such a long journey. Any amenity she could ask for was now hers upon request, from room service, to all-hours access to the palace's private spa. Still, one thing had remained the same: whether as a prisoner or a guest of honor, all her hopes were hedged on the arrival of one particular person to see her. She had so much to tell him. Too much, even.

A knock at the door disrupted her thought process. Her pulse quickened as she turned her head in its direction. It was still early; rarely was she ever sent for until the afternoon rolled around, when the president was no longer occupied with his morning duties. The change, though unexpected, gave her hope. Had Squall finally arrived? It seemed impossible; she'd contacted him a mere three days before. And indeed, as she crossed the room and opened the door, the person standing on the other side was no one she recognized. He was clearly neither an official for lack of the standard flowing robes, nor one of the bodyguards who'd been assigned to guard her room. With a glance to either side of the doorframe, she was alarmed to see both were nowhere in sight.

"Yes?" she timidly said.

"There's someone here to see you. I was told to give you this."

The man extended one clasped fist to her. As he let it unfurl, a silver chain fell from his grasp and dangled in place from his fingers. Ellone stopped breathing as her eyes landed on the pendant hanging from the bottom: a gleaming lion's head in mid-roar. Instinctively, she reached out and snatched it from him.

"Wh-where is he?!" she blurted out. "Is he alright?"

"He's en route to the Lunar Gate as we speak," the aide said, gesturing down the hall with one hand. "Please, come with me."

"The… Lunar Gate?" she repeated, suddenly confused. "Why? Has the president been informed?"

"I can't disclose anything more. Now please, let us be on our way, Miss. There's no time to waste."

However dissatisfied she was to be left in the dark, she understood the man was only doing his job. Regardless, the stern urgency in his words was enough to get her out the door. She trotted after him, clutching tightly to the chain still held in her hand. No matter how far their destination, now perhaps even further than she'd ever traveled thus far, she knew she was in fact closer than ever. There they would meet. And there, finally, she would make right all the wrongs from a time so long ago.

For what pains they'd taken to keep the Garden away from the mainland for so long, Quistis had been pleasantly surprised by the lack of opposition as they'd come ashore. The segment of coast they'd chosen was sufficiently remote. A quick look at a map of the continent had likewise shown as much; but for a quaint, old-world village by the name of Winhill, there were no other noteworthy settlements in the vicinity. The region, so far south from the capital, had apparently never been more than a blip on Galbadia's radar since the nation's expansion 20 years earlier.

There were other potential explanations to consider. Perhaps the assigned troops had been redirected elsewhere in service of Ultimecia's conquest. The clash at Trabia had spoken volumes of her preferred battle strategy; she seemed to hold no qualms about deploying as much manpower as needed to overwhelm her enemies, even at the expense of leaving her own foothold vulnerable. It could also have just as easily been indifference. Once she'd finally captured whosoever held the sorceress power she sought, the state of Galbadia itself would no longer be her concern. There was also mass defection on the military's part to consider; Edea had been out of the public eye for well over two months now.

Whatever the reason, the risk to steer ashore had paid off for Quistis and company. They couldn't have asked for better luck. A speedy landing had given them enough time to deploy from the parking garage in a discreet, civilian model off-road transport. From there, the Garden had just as quickly uprooted itself again, and retreated back into the waters trailing up around the continent. It would continue on to Balamb as scheduled, hopefully without any further incident. In the meantime, she and the others had their own business to attend to.

She couldn't believe Squall had actually fled the Garden in the middle of the night. For however increasingly impulsive his actions had become in recent months, he'd always remained dutiful through whatever hardships had come their way. The thought that he would shirk all responsibility to go running off to Esthar on his own hadn't even seemed realistic enough for her to worry about; this wasn't Seifer she was dealing with, after all. It was only after they'd set sail the next day, when Selphie had gone to check up on Rinoa in the late afternoon and found her missing, that it became clear how careless she'd been. Quistis had raced up to the bridge to see the nav crew, hoping Squall might still be among them. Predictably, no one had seen him all morning. Realizing there was no time to lose, she had ordered them to chart a course to the most remote region they could determine along the west coast. It had taken them until early next morning before they'd fully steered around the bulging Humphrey Archipelago, and close to noon by the time they ran ashore.

She, Selphie, Zell, and Irvine were off the moment they'd landed. Packed in the trunk were enough fuel canisters to presumably last them the entire trip across the continent. Regardless, she'd known from the start that at least a few stops would be imminent. Sleep was one factor; they'd decided against driving through the night early on, given no one was having much luck with the constant bumps along the more rural stretches of road. Food was the other; to be considerate of the Garden's dwindling supply, they'd only taken along enough to last them a couple of days at most. And so, on Wednesday morning, they'd pulled into a pit stop along the highway. After pooling together what savings they'd had, Selphie and Irvine had headed on in to stock up. Meanwhile, Quistis stood watch by the pump as Zell continued to fill back up the two canisters they'd already gone through.

Other vehicles at the station were surprisingly few and far between. So it had also been on the road for as long as they'd traveled. Once again, there was ample room for speculation; perhaps Ultimecia had imposed tight restrictions on non-essential travel in her absence. If so, there was all the more reason to remain vigilant should any military vehicles cross their path. Irvine's Galbadia Garden uniform at least provided them some kind of excuse to fall back on should they ever be pulled over for questioning.

Perhaps most peculiar for Quistis was how well she seemed to be taking it all. Despite the circumstances and their potential repercussions, to speak nothing of a lack of sound sleep, there was an unusual vigor about her. She could feel virtually no discernible fatigue weighing her down, whether physical or mental. Adrenaline would have been the logical assumption; it had certainly served the same purpose when she'd chased Seifer to Timber on that fateful day. And yet, it seemed somehow different this time. She felt resilient, stronger, and oddly serene.

I guess that's what happens when you've been through so much in such a short time…

"Oh, come on! That's it?"

Quistis turned her attention back to Zell. The blonde stood by the pump with the nozzle in his hand, having freshly withdrawn it from the still half-empty canister. A glance at the display showed that the counter had stopped climbing. Apparently, the amount of fuel they'd pumped had reached the limit for the money Irvine had paid inside.

"At least we've got the rest all topped off," she reassured him. "It should be plenty to make it across."

"It better be," Zell said as he replaced the nozzle on the rack. "I guess I won't complain if it means they splurged a bit more on grub."

Quistis chuckled at the comment. For however tech savvy he could be, Zell thinking with his stomach was just as common. Were their combined cash total any lower, she might have been more inclined to skimp; hunger would be a small price to pay in comparison to running out of gas on the middle of the bridge. Fortunately, the vehicle's mileage looked to be in their favor based on its performance thus far.

"I don't see how the heck we're gonna catch up to him at this rate, though," he hummed, shutting the trunk. "He's got a full day's head start on us, at least."

"We'll just take things at our own pace," she answered. "For Rinoa's sake, I'm counting on him to leave us in the dust. I just hope he knows what he's doing."

There was no longer any doubt as to the lengths Squall would go for the girl. What concerned Quistis was her physical condition after two months spent in a coma. Provided he hadn't gotten held up, she speculated he might end up reaching the border sometime later that same day. How he intended to gain passage into the city was another matter; after maintaining total isolation from the rest of the world for 17 years, Quistis doubted the ruling government would suddenly be willing to make an exception.

"I'm still kinda shocked," Zell said. "Like, I knew those two were getting close, but… who'd have thought he had it in him?"

"Who'd have thought she could draw it out?" Quistis rephrased.

From the moment she'd seen them waltzing together in the ballroom beneath the starry night sky, she'd known she couldn't hold a candle to Rinoa. It had irked her but slightly then, her true disdain for the girl having come weeks later in Deling City. Time and a better understanding of her own feelings for Squall had mended those wounds. Now, she realized there was truly no one else who could have managed it.

"No matter how many walls he puts up, she just forces her way in. The only question was if he'd ever make a place for her."

"Looks like we got our answer, loud and clear," Zell replied. He cocked his head towards the station proper, from which Selphie and Irvine had yet to emerge. "And then there's those two. Seems love is in the air no matter which way you look."

"And what about you and that girl in the library?"

"Wha-?!"

He whipped his head back around on the spot. Predictably, his cheeks were flush with embarrassment.

"How… how do you know about…?"

"I have my sources," Quistis smiled back deviously.

She chuckled as Zell's mortification swelled exponentially. In actuality, his love life was of no concern to her, nor her own lack thereof. For whatever relief poking fun provided, there were far more important matters at hand. And no matter Squall's personal intentions for racing into Esthar, Ellone's safety was undoubtedly crucial for them to see to. Perhaps he would even remember that himself by the time he reached the city.

'I don't want to carry anyone else's burden', he said…

All was bleary as Squall creaked his eyes open. A breath in through his nose assured him of the presence of quality air; the noxious fumes which had engulfed him and the others were no more. Still, he felt lethargic. Just fighting to raise his drooping head upright was a challenge. His arms meanwhile were an impossibility; no matter how hard he strained, they remained bound at either side.

As he finally shook off the dizziness, he realized he was seated in a sturdy metal chair. Both his wrists had been tightly fastened to either armrest by thick metal restraints. With a glance down, he saw his ankles were likewise cuffed in place. He was a prisoner once more, just as when he'd awakened to Seifer's torture in the depths of the D-District Prison. As he whipped his head all around to take stock of his surroundings however, he was surprised to see just how starkly different they were to the cramped cell he'd been thrown into then.

He'd been seated off to the side of a dimly lit office, one far colder and more clinical in design than Cid's. The walls were plated with sterile chrome, the floor a muted bronze, with a streak of decorated emerald carpet running down the center to a sealed metal door. Shades had been drawn across the windows on the far side, blocking out any view of the outside world. A wide desk sat before them. He immediately recognized his gunblade resting atop beside the computer terminal, along with his belts, backpack, and various other effects. For however much they stuck out to him, the sight couldn't hope to maintain his attention for long.

A dark leather couch sat directly on the other side of the carpet from him. Rinoa lay draped flat on her back across its length, motionless as she'd been for months. The IV drip just beside and the oxygen mask over her face were the only sources of relief Squall could pick out amid his unfamiliar surroundings; if nothing else, his captors had done well to prioritize her deteriorating health. It was several moments more before he abruptly realized that she was the only other one present. Fujin and Raijin were nowhere to be seen.

Their absence perplexed him; he would have sooner expected Rinoa to be the missing one, on account of her condition. He took another look around the room, hopeful he might spot something to clue him in on the situation. Besides synthetic plating, the walls bore a pair of stacked bookshelves, a television monitor, and some framed plaques and certificates. As he strained his eyes to read the text printed on each one, a lump formed in his throat. All of them bore one particular name. Just then, the door hissed open. He turned to see the man himself step on through, proof beyond any doubt whose jurisdiction he now found himself under.

The age difference from the pictures Squall had previously seen in his studies was to be expected; there had naturally been no more of him made publicly available since the beginning of Esthar's 17 year-long seclusion. Even so, he was still recognizable. His face, further wrinkled and sagging, sported a thin moustache and a small black goatee. The rest of his hair was tied up into a single rigid protrusion, extending straight out from the crown of his head. He wore a long violet robe with a red and white striped collar around his neck. However questionable his fashion sense, there was no disputing this particular man's genius nor enduring legacy in the worldwide scientific community. Squall's only surprise was with regard to his height; as he drew closer, he wondered if even Rinoa might have been slightly taller.

"Well, awake already, are we?" Dr. Odine spoke with a curious wilt. His voice was sharp, nasal, and biting, each flick of his tongue slicing through the air like a flash of the blade.

"What's going on?" Squall asked him, instinctively wriggling in his chair. "Where am I? Where are my friends?"

"Calm, calm," the doctor insisted as he ambled over to stand beside Rinoa's couch. "Let's not get antsy. I apologize for the restraints, but I'm sure you know we're not particularly welcoming of outsiders, yes? That, and we had to be sure of your identity first. Nothing a little DNA test couldn't settle. Ellone has told us much about you, and of your desperation to see this girl back on her feet again. Her word is the only reason you're not in a cell right now along with the other two."

At the mere mention of Ellone's name, Squall determined the next words out of his mouth would be to demand he be taken to her immediately. It fizzled out just as quickly at the mention of Fujin and Raijin's imprisonment. For having needlessly gotten them involved in his own mess, he had to know what was to become of them first.

"What's going to happen to them?"

"They will be interrogated at length over the next several days," Odine said. "After that, who knows? I'm afraid that as it stands, they are persona non grata. We were only told to expect two of you, after all. And that's before we even consider the damage you caused to the border wall."

"It's not like you left the door open for us!" Squall snapped.

"Temper, temper. Like I was saying, yours is a special case. As long as you can vouch for their identities, there's a good chance they'll simply be deported when all is said and done."

Squall knew telling the honest truth was out of the question. For whatever great pains Esthar had taken to withdraw from world affairs, they couldn't possibly be ignorant of Ultimecia's takeover of Galbadia. The naval fleet that had taken Ellone from the White SeeDs seemed to imply as much; for what other reason would they have strayed so far from home after so long? Revealing any connection between his companions and Galbadia would only be liable to cause trouble for them. He only hoped they would have the good sense to stay silent on the matter themselves.

Shouldn't be a problem for Fujin, at least…

"But, let us cut right to the chase, shall we?" Odine continued. "I understand you came all this way to see Ellone."

"Th-that's right," Squall stammered, fighting to regain his composure. "Please, can you take me and Rinoa to her?"

"I would be glad to. Under one condition, that is."

The conniving wilt in the doctor's voice unnerved Squall. He already knew he wouldn't like whatever it was he had in mind. Still, he had to ask.

"What is it?"

"You must agree to let me use this girl for a little experiment," Odine explained, gesturing to Rinoa's body.

"You've got to be-"

Squall bit his tongue; it was all he could do to suppress the urge to tell him off on the spot. He understood the precarious position he was in. He was presently at the doctor's mercy, a kindness that could just as easily be revoked should he refuse to cooperate. Even so, the thought was too much. Rinoa had already suffered enough.

"What kind of experiment?" he rephrased through gritted teeth.

"Rest assured, there will be very little risk involved," Odine said as he crossed the room to his desk. "If it fails, she'll be no worse for wear than she is already. But I have a good feeling it might just do the trick."

"That doesn't answer the question!" Squall spat angrily. "What are you planning to do to her?"

The doctor said nothing in return. He instead reached down to the top of his desk, took hold of Squall's GF sphere, and brought it up to twirl it around in his fingers. With a press of both switches, the two halves of its silver metal casing parted to reveal the faint glimmer of orange light within. Odine continued to simply stare at it, the gears seemingly turning in his head all the while, before he finally spoke again.

"There are so many things you do not understand, and many more you likely cannot. To explain it all to you would be impossible. At least, here and now."

He re-sealed the sphere and set it back down on the desktop before turning back around to face Squall.

"You've traveled all this way because you seek answers. Perhaps through Ellone, you might even uncover them in the past. But what good will they be to you if this girl still remains a lifeless husk in the present? What you need are not just answers, but solutions. As a scientist, I have spent my life's work in pursuit of both. Would you really be so petty to forgo one for the other?"

Squall wasn't sure what to say. The doctor seemed confident enough that his plan would work to bring Rinoa out of her coma. And yet, his skepticism was impossible to quell; there had to be some ulterior motive to his offer. Moreover, there was the ethical angle to consider. Who was he to volunteer Rinoa for some experimental treatment without her consent, nor even an idea of what it would involve? Despite all this however, Odine had a point. He'd come so far, and risked so much. He'd left everything he'd ever known behind for a chance at bringing her back. He couldn't simply refuse his assistance now that he'd finally arrived.

"I want your word that she'll be safe," he said at last.

"Nothing is ever certain beyond what has already been tested and proven," Odine spoke bluntly. "I can assure you however that she'll be in excellent hands. My men and I will take every precaution we can to ensure things run as smoothly as possible. And if it's any consolation, you'll be able to oversee the entire procedure yourself. Does that sound fair?"

Though far from ironclad, Squall understood he couldn't reasonably expect anything more. Having arguably the greatest scientific mind of the modern era at his disposal would have been enough reassurance for most. And at the end of the day, he was indeed desperate. He would do anything to potentially wake Rinoa up.

"Fine," he reluctantly agreed.

"Excellent!" the doctor exclaimed. He promptly circled around his desk and dipped his hand beneath. "Of course, preparations will take some time to sort out. I'll have you set up in a private room here in the palace for the night, and send for you sometime tomorrow once we're ready to head out on our way. Get some rest. It'll be a long journey."

"What about Ellone?" Squall reminded him. "You said I could see her."

"And see her you shall. I've already taken the liberty of having her shuttled to the test site, just in case you needed some extra incentive to make the right choice."

"You conniving son of a…!"

He trailed off as he realized slinging insults would get him nowhere. The doctor was no doubt a crafty one, having masterfully orchestrated such a scenario to force him into compliance.

"Come now, what did you expect?" Odine chuckled. "That I would offer to help you and your little friend out of the kindness of my heart? Don't be so naive. The pursuit of science is all that concerns me."

Squall prepared to fire back at him, when the door hissed open again. Two soldiers stepped inside, both suited up in sleek, grey jumpsuits identical to those he'd seen during his visions of Laguna's time.

"Please escort this young man to a VIP room in the west wing," Odine ordered them. "He is not to be let out until I send for him again. And be sure to keep his face covered on the way there."

The guards saluted before making their way over to Squall. One pressed a few buttons ingrained into the side of the steel chair. With a mechanical hum, it lifted up but slightly, and remained hovering in place. Squall barely had time to gawk at the technology before a shroud was pulled over his eyes. All went dark. He could see nothing as the hover chair was pushed forward into motion, and presumably guided out the door. Try as he might to mentally keep track of each twist and turn along the corridors that followed, it soon became too confusing. He gave up after a minute, resigning himself to a night spent in captivity ahead. Any influence over the situation was now out of his control. There was nothing more he could do but bide his time until morning, and hope Odine was at the very least a man of his word.

Rinoa… what the hell have I gotten us into now?