9-Aug-2001
Title: Chasing the Crown, an Extended Family Fic
ExFam Authors:
RavynFyre - ravynfyre@hotmail.com
von - sablexo1@yahoo.com
bonnejeanne - bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
*Special Guest Writer! Nixie the Pixie!*
Nixers - Nixerchan@aol.com
Category: yaoi, AU
Rating: NC-17 for now, that will change
Pairings: 1x2, 3+4
Spoilers: Series, Endless Waltz, Mission: Arcadia
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners.
Kenny, Duan, Wufan, Tryan, Carter, Jack and the Ripper, and everything relating to Rip & Jack's universe are ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: Any and all comments, feedback, critiques welcome, be they short or long.
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
WARNINGS: AU (Alternate Universe), Original Characters, LEMON in some sections. Kiddie-Angst.
Dorothy's polite knock upon Zechs' door rang hollowly down the deserted hallway, the faint taps echoing almost forlornly, despite the cheer of the early morning. After a few moments of silence, she knocked again, only slightly surprised at the lack of response. They had all had a late night last night, and it was early enough in the morning to border almost on rude, but Mister Bates' words about the threat to Relena had shaken her. Zechs needed to look over the book of notes clutched tightly in her hands, and the sooner, the better, as far as she was concerned.
Dorothy frowned, her knuckles rapping more forcefully upon the door upon the third series of knocks, imperiously demanding Zechs' response. Once again, there was no answer forthcoming, and she sighed, confused.
Perhaps the excitement and stirred memories of the previous day had inspired the Preventer to awaken early. Turning sharply on her heel, Dorothy set off in search of the missing blond.
At the foot of the stairs, she saw a familiar figure waiting for her... quite another blond however.
"Mister Bates," she called in genuinely pleased greeting, "Good morning. Did you rest well?"
"Perfectly," he replied. As she neared the young man she found herself coming up to him, and placing a kiss on his cheek, which he accepted. In turn, he took her hand and turned it over, his slightly darkened lips pressing for a moment against her inner wrist. "And did you... rest, Miss Dorothy?" he said, releasing her hand with a slight smile.
"Eventually," she replied, a faintly puzzled tone to her voice as she considered her apparent boldness with the man, "And quite well."
Jack nodded, his green eyes lingering on hers with an expression of pleasure. "You seem to have an urgent errand on hand at the moment."
"Miss Relena's brother seems to have gone... well, I can't exactly call it missing, as he's fully capable of making his own decisions regarding his comportment. I just thought I would get this information to him. I'm interested in his... perceptions of It," she replied, with a faint half-smile. "And yourself? Is there anything I may help you with?"
"I would be interested in those perceptions myself," Jack commented. "Do you suppose I might be allowed to join you?"
"I thought you might," Dorothy murmured to his first comment. "I would be delighted to have you join me, although Zechs may veto me. Of course, he may need some time to look over these notes, before he has any opinion to venture forth."
Jack shrugged negligently. "I'll await his decision. Have you breakfasted, Miss Dorothy?"
"Not yet," she answered with a wry smile. "I was about to ask you the same, Mister Bates."
"Let's find something continental, like coffee and croissants. I imagine by the time we are done, your quarry may be easier to find."
"I like the way you think, Mister Bates. Shall we?"
Jack took her arm in his and they found their way to the breakfast room.
Half an hour can dramatically lighten any outlook. Particularly when said half an hour included a shave, shower and change of clothes. So it was with a much clearer mind, and platinum hair making damp prints on the back of his shirt that Zechs was actually present for the second set of knocks on his door.
Placing a wire bristle hairbrush on the writing desk as he passed, Zechs moved to answer the insistent entreaty.
"Good morning," Dorothy greeted when the door swung open, "And an early one it must have been for you."
"Good morning Dorothy," he replied. "By that I take it you tried earlier." Standing back from the entranceway, his gaze fixed on a completely unfamiliar blond haired man. "Good morning as well. I'm sorry, but I don't think we've been introduced?"
"No, I believe you'd been abducted by Noin rather early in the night," Dorothy commented. "This is Mister Bates of Gemini Ltd. One of Miss Relena's firmest supporters. Mister Bates, this is Miss Relena's brother," she said, turning back to meet Zechs' eyes squarely, a faintly mischievous smile hovering around her mouth as she continued, "Zechs Merquise."
The green-eyed man stepped closer, looking over the tall Preventer agent with lingering assessment and some appreciation. "Yes, I recall that you prefer that name to your original one," he said, holding out a hand languidly. The young man's eyes were lined with kohl and his lips darkened with a subtle tint. But there was something in those made-up eyes that belied the outward impression of softness.
The raised eyebrow and mildly surprised expression at Dorothy's introduction quickly disappeared into something much more schooled and polite as the Mr. Bates began speaking. Taking the offered hand in a firm grip, he returned the statement with a nod. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Bates. Though grateful for the support, I haven't heard much of you personally."
Mr. Bates held the grip a moment longer than most people would have, then released it. "It has been the preference of myself and my partner that our meaningless identities not clutter or distract from the importance of the Vice Minister's accomplishments. However, perhaps it would put you more at ease to call me Jack."
"As you please," Zechs replied, nodding once to the other man. With a slightly questioning look accompanying Zechs' return of attention to Dorothy, he said, "I didn't expect you so early," with a vague sweep of the hand as if to apologize for any disarray. Conscious of the other man, he continued. "Is there anything I can help with?"
"I did promise you some notes," she explained, holding up the slim book in her hands and offering it to him. "As for help, we didn't get much of a chance to speak yesterday on the subject. I would be interested in any thoughts you may have on the matter."
"Certainly," he said, accepting the book, looking at it for a long moment before return his gaze to the other two. "But I wouldn't wish to bore our guest. If there would be a more convenient time?"
Jack smiled slightly. "I asked Miss Dorothy if she would mind my attendance, since I have an interest of my own in the subject you are referring to."
This statement caused a slight hardening of the blond Preventer's features. This time when blue eyes flicked back towards Dorothy, they held a more distinct question in them.
Dorothy quirked up a single brow. "The circle always was larger than you two," she replied with a small nod.
With a half smile and near inaudible sigh, the blond shook his head with some bemusement at the assessment and stepped out of the doorway with a gesture sweeping across the waist and towards the empty room. "A terrible thing on the ego," he replied wryly.
Jack had waited negligently with one hand resting on his hip. As Zechs made the gesture of inviting them in, he smiled again and bowed slightly to Dorothy so that she could precede him.
With a polite nod to the green-eyed man, she did so, giving Zechs an amused, searching stare as she passed. "No... I do believe *that* circle quite firmly revolved around you, and none other," she murmured, before glancing meaningfully back down at the book.
At the statement, his own gaze followed hers, resting there with a mix of thoughtfulness and vague apprehension as the other two passed. Tapping the aforementioned book in his palm once, he shut the door quietly before addressing his most recent acquaintance.
"If you don't mind me asking, what *is* your interest, Mr. Ba.. Jack," he corrected himself, tone mild.
The person in question had taken a seat on an empty chair, crossing his legs at ease. Green eyes glittered, giving the impression of sunlight reflecting off a glacier. "My interest is in the... Artifact, I think is the way it is so quaintly referred to by some." Tinted lips curved upwards. "Once it is found, I am going to destroy it."
Running his hand through still damp bangs, Zechs gave a slight smile at that. "A shared interest then."
"Quite true. The difference is, I can accomplish it," Jack said, glancing idly at his manicure, which was immaculate.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Zechs gave the other man a flat look with only the hints of incredulousness. "Epyon was maybe 30 feet from the heart of the Libra when it exploded. I wasn't aware that Gemini Ltd. had developed better firepower in these years."
Jack smiled fully, with a glint of appreciation in his cool eyes. "Gemini is not a weapons manufacturer," he returned. "Nevertheless, when the time comes, you will need Mr. Ripley and I." He rose gracefully and walked over to a large window on the other side of the room. Reaching out, he opened the curtains wide and looked out into the green of the grounds below. "It will scream when we kill it. A howl such as you can never imagine, and which you will never forget. A kind of hissing scream as Its molecules shake apart one by one and are vibrated into continuums without count to become formless meaningless waves and particles and finally dead matter and spent energy."
Dorothy had been watching the exchange with interest, her glance bouncing from one to the other as the conversation shifted naturally. At the rather descriptive exposition of the Artifact's projected demise, she shifted and eyed Mister Bates thoughtfully. "A man of many more talents than I'd supposed..." she said quietly.
Zechs had let his arms fall to his side, caught more by a particular part than of the description itself. To his mind only someone who had had some contact with it before could know what It sounded like, or even that It *did* sound like anything. Bowing his head slightly he asked, shortly after Dorothy, "You wouldn't happen to know a place called Arcadia then?"
Jack turned, and the cold, yet somehow eagerly predatory expression was nowhere to be seen in his eyes, only a mild amusement as he inclined his head. "Our creation, Preventer Wind. Our game and our remarkable child."
After a long moment absorbing the information, Zechs said, "You've done many charities then. It's not my place to ask your motivations." Glancing back down to his hands with a slight downturn of his lips, he said, "This may take me a while to go through, unless you both are here for what is already known."
"I've never done a charitable act in my life," Jack murmured. "However I do find self-interest in unusual places. Take a moment to look at what you have. You were quite close to the man who wrote those pages, were you not? It's possible you may see things with greater clarity than others."
The slight frown became far more pronounced at Jack's question, but Zechs made no effort to deny it or any reply at all, instead moving to find his own seat at the small desk.
"I have included some few notes of my own," Dorothy remarked, "From what research I have been able to accomplish. Very little real information has apparently survived over the years, save for that volume and the odd line tucked here or there in obscure texts." She met his eyes for a long moment, the implication of the value of the book quite plain in her blue gaze.
As Zechs opened the book, a single unattached page fluttered out and onto the floor. This sheet was written in Treize's hand, with a few additions in another script. At first glance it was a simple list of dates ranging from AC 102 to almost the present, and notations beside them.
Picking up the sheet almost reflexively, Zechs quickly scanned the contents of the short compilation. "Winner," Zechs read aloud with some surprise in his voice. "As in L4's Winner family?"
Dorothy nodded. "They possessed It, or It them, for a few years before 194," Dorothy explained. "It has had an interesting journey this last century."
"I wonder if Quatre knows already," Zechs murmured with a slight frown. His own experience with the blond Arabian was brief, all things in consideration. Instinctively, Zechs eyes fixed on 194 AC, the date Treize came into possession of it.
As hard as he tried he couldn't pinpoint any sudden difference in that year itself. Most of their differences in ideals had slowly boiled later, not truly affecting *them* until the twist of the war had put it to a great test. Laying it aside, and mentally marking it as something to pass on to Wufei, Heero and Duo soon, he thumbed through the first few pages, his face at first softening minutely at the familiar script as he scanned the words there.
Dorothy noticed the softening of Zechs' expression as he began reading through Treize's personal notes. "There is a lot there to absorb," she offered, "Perhaps we should leave you to it and return later for your thoughts?" she asked, recalling some of the more intimately private thoughts regarding the blond now-Preventer towards the latter half of the journal.
Jarred slightly from the world of elegant prose at the question, he blinked once before recovering himself. Nodding slightly to Dorothy. "Whatever suits you. I'm not usually hard to find."
"Except for first thing, come morning," Dorothy replied wryly as she stood. "Well, Mister Bates, shall we go see what else this day holds for us?"
Jack rose to his feet and smiled. "At your pleasure, Miss Dorothy."
With a final, somewhat sympathetic, glance back at Zechs, Dorothy led the way out the door.
After it closed behind them, Zechs spent a few long moments staring at the flat planes of the door. The consideration and hesitancy at the blond woman's shift from her more familiar demeanor was washed away as he turned back to the place marked by his thumb on the crisp pages.
As the minutes drew out, the steadfast tick of the clock on the nightstand and the steady thrum of the air conditioning was periodically punctuated by the whisper of a page turning. The casual flip of pages had slowed to a crawl as the years went by in ink and memories.
At first it was simple, almost refreshing to read. Treize was as skilled in written words as he was with spoken ones, and even something that could seem so dry, a line of history and research on the Artifact as Treize traced it, Zechs could hear it narrated in Treize's voice. It easily brought a small smile to the tall man's lips. For some reason he could picture the ginger haired man more easily these past days than he could in a long while. The hint of the aroma of roses, the cultured, slight voice in his ear, the simple comfort of his solid presence in some light touch whenever they stood near each other.
As for the events detailed in the early pages, some he knew about, some he didn't. There was still even that uncertainty of his own feelings over Leia Barton, but even that had been mostly washed away in his fondness for Mariameia. Even what had been in his knowledge was given a new tilt in relation to It.
It seemed everything in their world and the one that collided with theirs was touched somehow. The Romefellar Foundation had It for years, circling in the families as the constant power struggles allowed it to change hands. The five doctors knew about It, Dekim Barton discovered and coveted It, the Winner family had It, the Dragon Clan, Dorothy, Treize, himself.... It was amazing to him that they all ended up on opposite sides of the line. No, he amended, the more lines the better. The way It... the way he, himself, thought for that while.... it was better that there were countless alliances, betrayals, confusions about who was on whom's side, and who was fighting for what.
/It didn't matter. As long as we were fighting,/ he realized, as the pages turned to one year before the war. His stomach clenched at the descriptions of the Artifact now in Treize's possession, considered inanimate, a symbol of power, and then forgotten. /Ideals can be warped, no matter how pure they are. It's in the execution of them, that It twisted perceptions./
"Sweet God above." Zechs clenched his fists over the pages, as it began to really sink in, with a new perspective, what he'd almost done. The next aimed cannon shot would have been a land impact. It's what he'd intended. In his half clear, and terribly apathetic memories of the time, that was obvious. If they, humanity, couldn't see reason.... A good target would have taken out most of the life and suffocated what was left.
No matter how independent the colonies were, they needed certain resources to survive. To even consider survival would need to starve off at least 80 percent of the population, and convert the rest of the satellite colonies into producers just for equipment, water, food and oxygen. It sounded frighteningly like what Sallah had described the bases near Arcadia as... Small populations in a vast desert of dead communications, each wondering if they were the only humans left alive. Instead of greenies, there'd be Mobile Dolls on automatic, headless without a command center, there to pick off the rest.
With great deliberation, he carefully unclenched his hands with a few deep breaths. He set them palms down and fingers splayed on the surface of the desk to still a tremor there that he couldn't quite will away. A turn of the page, and the war began.
Again there was an odd sort of morbid fascination there, to see everything that he knew laid out meticulously in another perspective. There was that strange mix of pride and longing as his own name appeared on some pages. It was easy to imagine where Treize's voice would take that soft lilt of teasing, or the milder tone of displeasure.
Then it started to become obvious that something was just vaguely off. It was there a little when writing about Antarctica, and much more prominently around Tsubarov and his pet project. It was like he'd stumbled somewhere and was shifting to adjust but never seemed to get his footing again. There was something, more and more off with the cadence of the words, then a minute shift in the handwriting.
The neat words began to blur on the page and clear again as he blinked, eyes burning. The entries became longer and longer, the sign of the toll of Treize's exile. He could no longer picture the voice to the words penned there, as hard as he tried. What was 'off' before was stronger, and now, on the pages it became obvious that Treize knew. He knew what the Artifact had done, was doing, and didn't think he could stop it.
It hurt to the point that he couldn't quite draw in a full breath to read. The kind of mental torture that it had to be, that was obvious on the pages, for someone who was so naturally in control. He did it all alone, Zechs thought, with a mixture of grief and shame. All things aside, he'd walked away when he was needed most.
The building of Epyon, putting the Artifact in it, then the terrible decision of whom to give it to and how to get it to them, or get them to It. He'd finally settled on Heero Yuy, as possibly the only one who stood a chance of resisting.
He not only resisted it, he was able to walk away from It. Zechs bore nothing but respect for Heero over it, however. When they had traded suits, there had been a single moment of almost perfect understanding. He knew, to a degree, what he was getting into, and had embraced it. Besides, Heero belonged, in his opinion, with Wing.
Turning the page was the hardest part. Reading was simple enough, he did it almost involuntarily, a certain need to pull onwards. Even as the Artifact left Treize, it was almost worse to watch him understand the extent that It had worked as the haze cleared. It was something he was beginning to empathize with to the bone.
The last entry, dated before the final battle, he only half finished before very gently closing the slim book.
In some way, with some naive logic, he never thought Treize would die. Men like that just didn't. Treize could walk through the various poisons of politics or the rigors of the battlefield without so much as a hair misplaced. Even when Zechs had fired on him, he didn't expect to even graze him. Destiny, that time in the guise of Lady Une, would move the aristocrat out of the deadly path. He was a favored child of Fate, and it was far too early to take him away. It wasn't his time. It shouldn't have been his time. Brushing a suspicious wetness from his face fiercely, Zechs flipped the pages back to the beginning of the journal, when things were still fine and the future was still simple. Not really reading the words, he passed the time just running along the delicate ebb and flow of an elegant penmanship.
The kids moved down the hallway as one unit. There were not many people up, except guards and the staff. Turning corners, Mariemeia led the way to the kitchen. Just as they opened the door, they saw Lady Une on the other side.
"Good morning, Lady Une!" Mei chirped in greeting, "Are you getting breakfast too?"
Lady Une's eyes widened fractionally as she saw Mariemeia and the other children. A small frown appeared on her brow as she noted Mariemeia's new clothes.
"Hn," she said, taking in all of the kids with a glance. "Good morning, Mariemeia, children. Yes, I was seeing to breakfast."
"Good morning, ma'am," Wufan said politely.
"Hi," Duan greeted.
"Would it be all right if I stayed with the boys and their guardians today, Lady Une?" Mei asked politely.
Lady Une looked at the boys in question, then knelt down beside Mariemeia. "I would think that it would depend on their guardians," she said, smoothing out the tunic Mariemeia wore. "This is an interesting piece of clothing. I've never seen it among your things before."
"Wufan was kind enough to lend me something clean to wear so that I didn't have to wander through the halls in an oversized T-shirt this morning," Mei explained dutifully. "Thank you for letting me spend the night with Sallah," she added, in what was probably the most polite and considerate Une had seen her in semi-private company for any extended period of time.
Une smiled. "You are welcome," she said. "And please convey my thanks to your Mother, Wufan."
"Yes, ma'am," Wufan said, politely.
Looking up at Mariemeia, Une sighed a little. "Well, let's see what we can do about breakfast. I can arrange for some to be sent to the suites for the others. And Mariemeia, I will be in the Control Center, should you need me today," she added.
Mei nodded cheerfully, adding, "Yes, ma'am. I'll let you know where I'll be if anything happens today. All right?"
Lady Une nodded. There were so many things that came to mind to say to Mariemeia, but she felt that the situation called for the right moment. Instead, she gave in to an impulse and wrapped her arms around the little girl, hugging her tightly. "I know you will, but remember to be good," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," Mei replied, returning the hug with a little measure of surprise. "I will."
"Good," Lady Une said, then stood. "Come gentlemen, lady, let's get some breakfast."
Leaving Zechs' room, the two blonds walked in silence through the west wing, ending up eventually back at Dorothy's office. It was next door to Relena's office, with a connecting access, and the back of the room had French doors that opened into the garden. Mr. Bates walked over to the French doors and opened them as Dorothy checked her messages for anything urgent. The silence extended as she tended to some simple matters, and then sat in her leather-bound executive chair for a few moments in thoughtful silence.
Jack returned from the view of the gardens to sit in another chair, crossing his legs casually.
"You hide your loves rather well for the most part," he said with a touch of appreciation in his deep velvet voice.
She rested her arms upon the chair, steepling her fingers before her as she leaned back and regarded him with a single upturned brow.
The expression brought a smile to the painted lips.
"I won't do you the discourtesy of pretending to not know what you mean," she replied, "Although I wasn't aware that I was protecting more than one."
"For how long have you been mourning Treize Khushrenada?" he returned.
A sad smile flitted across her lips as she turned to glance out the still open doors. "Ah." She took a deep breath as the smile slowly faded. "Long enough that I don't even remember when it began, I suppose. Although, perhaps the more pertinent question is, whom do I mourn him for?"
"Is that a question that has an answer?" he inquired in a tone of curiosity.
"All questions have an answer. It's whether or not our brains have the necessary ability to decipher the essence of the meaning or not. And to be perfectly frank, I'm not sure if I'm clever enough for that," she admitted slowly before turning her regard back to him. "I wish to find It before it can harm anyone else again. Happiness is fleeting enough without such obstacles."
"It will be found," Jack said with flat confidence. "With such bloodhounds as we have on the trail, that should not be considered in doubt. Even if it could be, the thing Itself will not stay hidden for much longer."
"That's what I'm afraid of, Mister Bates. You seem to see so much; it should not come as a surprise to you that I will not allow It to harm her," Dorothy replied gravely.
"No surprise," he answered. "But to be an effective opponent you must vary your arsenal. You've already done better than you know. But there are tests coming. Prepare for them."
"How is it that you know so much, Mister Bates? I feel so very in the dark, despite your claims to my accomplishments and abilities. You speak of bloodhounds and I can't help but think that it isn't Milliardo or myself to whom you refer. You mention tests and certainties as if you have foreseen the end to the trial, yet despite this and your 'decades' of opposition to It, you look no older than Mister Treize," she sighed, a quick flash of frustration and fear lighting in her eyes before her expression smoothed into a more neutral cast.
"I have seen the end of the trial, Dorothy," the blond man purred softly. "I came back to change the outcome. I want you to be the one who collects the story, so that when it is over, the pieces can all be put together. Would you be reluctant to accept this commission? It will give you the keys to the answers you seek, with no more game playing, no forfeits."
"No commission is too great, so long as I can keep her safe," Dorothy murmured in response. "Did we fare so badly then? In the ending which you have seen?"
Cool green eyes met hers directly for a long moment. In them she felt and saw something that seemed to stretch out into an endless darkness. "Badly," he said simply. "From a promise of the bright and shining future of her dreams to an endless night. But it's amazing how little things can turn on. Replace one key piece... perhaps two.. turn light on the shadows, and perhaps it will be enough."
Dorothy settled back into her chair again, her expression thoughtful and quiet. "What... Who are the key pieces? I'm not so egotistical to think even she or I could be such lynch pins."
Jack smiled. "A boy lost in a starfield. And a man in the midst of a conflict. You will need to relinquish your mourning."
She frowned, her eyes unfocusing for a moment before a wry half-smile crossed her face. "More riddles," she observed. "What exactly are you, Mister Bates?"
"A monster," he said, with a touch of pleasure. "A controller. A predator. Vain, selfish, perpetually bored... hmmm, what else?"
"A mystery," she supplied confidently, "An enigma wrapped in a rather pleasing package of contrariness." She leaned forward, resting her cheek in her palm as she regarded him. "I accept your commission, Mister Bates. I wish I could know some of the things you know, see some of what you've seen," she said wistfully. "Moreover, I'd wish to *remember* it."
"You will, Dorothy," he said with a pleased smile. "The players are finding themselves and each other. I told you the pilots did something for us, in Arcadia... we are here to return the favor, for them, and for you. They are the center of the hunt for the Crown. They are pulling things toward them with great speed."
"I was off track last night, then," she mused to herself, "Asking the wrong questions. Something I shall rectify once we've spoken to Milliardo again." Her blue eyes focused on him again, expression curious but without the wry, anxious urgency of before. "Where *is* Arcadia? And what favor would you be repaying me for?"
"Arcadia is in a world like this one. The world Mr. Ripley and I are from. And you haven't done the favor yet, but you will," he said, watching her.
"It must be tedious to know everything," she said, only half in jest.
His smile for the first time was neither reserved nor languid. "Oh it is... the only saving grace is that there are always little unexpected moments. I cherish them unreasonably."
She smiled warmly as she settled back again. "Why did you come to this world? Not just to repay a favor, for you had to have been here before to have enlisted the aid of the pilots. Perhaps I'm oversimplifying, but if there is our world, and there is your world, then it stands to reason that there are countless worlds. Why ours? And how?"
The blond man rose from his seat and walked over to her desk, picking up an object laying there, forgotten for many days. A video remote. He punched a button and a screen on the wall came to life. Then he began to click another button, going from channel to channel randomly, watching a moment, considering, clicking again. He sat on the edge of her desk as if absorbed in the new occupation. On one channel, a music video was playing, with a group of attractive young men playing and singing to a cheering audience. He tilted his head and then turned, tossing the remote to Dorothy.
Then he smiled.
"As for how..." he said, and reached for the air at his back. An object materialized out of nothing, a keyboard instrument on a strap slung around his neck that had not been there a moment ago. He passed his hands over the keys with an expression of sensual pleasure and a ripple of vibration, audible and inaudible, answered. Another smooth movement and the object was gone.
Dorothy blinked in fascination before something, a suspicion, flickered in the depths of her eyes. "Did your world have a Crown as well?"
He inclined his head. "Oh yes. I was born in a year... before your After Colony. We never got as far as you did. The poison was too thick, the humans too eager to accept it. Wars, sickness, evil, in-'humanity'," he said the word with a cool irony. "An accident brought it to our attention. An act of mindless destruction removed it. An ageless life was its gift."
"You came here for It. You're seeking Them out," she guessed shrewdly.
The green eyes warmed a bit like sunlight on the glacier. "However, we will not act if you do not act yourselves."
"It wouldn't be fair, else. Humanity must earn its own destiny. We must be willing to stand up for our own survival," she replied, "Otherwise it becomes meaningless." She glanced up at the vid screen absently, flicking it off with a press of a button. "There is a strong tie between the pilots and the children. The worlds... parallel each other closely, don't they?"
"It's something we've seen before," he said. "These pilots... from the colonies... something special about their generation, the same one as yours and Miss Relena's. That generation of the boys is special as well. The firstborn... after the game was all but lost."
"Special?" she asked, curiously.
He smiled. "Too close to recognize it, Dorothy?"
"I suppose so. For all that we've each had a hand in helping to shape the world as it stands today, it seems very... mundane to me," she replied with a half shrug.
"Mundane things can carry interesting significance," he said. "I don't think you will have a chance to talk with Zechs today... or this evening. If I am correct, his mourning may be ending as well."
"Yet again you hint at something which, had I not led the life I have, and seen what few things I have seen, I would say is an impossibility," she said with a thoughtful frown.
Jack walked over and reached out, stroking Dorothy's hair back. "The concept of impossibility changes, doesn't it?"
"Daily," she replied dryly. Her eyes softened as she glanced towards the open French doors. "I hope this is not an inane conclusion I've come to," she murmured quietly, "As I said... Happiness can be so fleeting, and if any two souls deserve it..." She sighed deeply as she faced him again. "I feel as if I should be doing something, Mister Bates. Is it merely restlessness, or am I missing a larger piece of the puzzle? Or would it be cheating to ask in the first place?"
"I have nothing against cheating if you can get away with it," Jack said. "You will know what to do when the time comes. Until then, use your wonderful mind. And take advantage of the fleeting moments."
There was a ring from Dorothy's com, on the line from Relena's office.
From long habit, Dorothy turned and flipped it on, answering, "Yes, Miss Relena?"
"Dorothy... I'm sorry if I'm interrupting you. But do you think you might have time to manage a little spur of the moment project today?" the Vice Minister's voice was bubbling with almost shy enthusiasm.
"But of course, Miss Relena. I'll be in in a moment," Dorothy replied, intrigued.
"Oh thank you!" the other girl said excitedly.
"Fleeting moments, Dorothy," Jack said, and then walked to the door.
Dorothy nodded politely to Relena before flipping the com back off. "You make a very wise 'monster', Mister Bates," she said, standing to see him out, "I shall take it to heart." She paused momentarily before continuing, "And if it's not a foolish wish of mine, I would very much like to see this Arcadia someday."
Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips and kissed the palm. "I will take you there. She will shine for you."
With a nod, he left.
Tilting her head to regard her hand with a wan smile, Dorothy turned towards Relena's office. Despite the threat still looming unseen over the horizon, her heart felt lighter than it had in longer than she could remember.
TBC
End of Part 38
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