04-May-2004
"Come in," Quatre called, not looking up. Wufei was drowsing across Meiran's bunk, his feet in Meiran's lap while she studied diagnostic reports on Talon. Quatre was reviewing the map, showing their progress towards Norway, and then the route following the shipping lanes back to the British Isles.
"Hey," Duo poked his head through the door, looking almost worried. "Hey, Winner... you busy?"
"Not really," Quatre replied, putting the map down. He smiled, and pointed to the other empty chair. Duo frowned, and cut his gaze towards the hallway. Quatre nodded, and glanced at Meiran, who raised her eyebrows, then shrugged. Quatre gave her a quick smile, and went to join Duo in the hallway.
He watched Duo's braid, flapping softly against Duo's thighs, and waited to speak until they'd reached the galley. No one was in there. Lunch had already been served and put away an hour before. Quatre leaned against one of the tables, and Duo grabbed a chair, flipping it around and resting his forearms across the back.
"I see you're already doing the no-speak thing with Long," Duo observed.
Quatre shrugged. "What's bothering you?"
"Is it that obvious?" Duo scrubbed at his face with one hand, and coughed.
"Should you even be out of bed?" Quatre frowned, studying the lines on Duo's face, and the exhaustion visible despite the silly grin Duo suddenly flashed. Quatre raised his eyebrows, his instincts on full alert but not entirely sure why. "Maxwell... "
"Well, bed's a great place to be," Duo whispered, sotto voce, and winked. The smile faded, and he brought his braid around, fiddling with it for a few seconds. "But I just spent an hour or two with that Hil girl, and---"
"Whoa!" Quatre's knees nearly gave out. "That was fast. Are you okay? You're handling this really well---"
"---Handling?" Duo blinked, then looked shocked. "No, no, not with her." He flushed, suddenly, and dropped his gaze. "I... uh... well, part of it is that I wanted to make sure you're okay with it if me 'n... if me 'n Tro... if... " Duo scrunched up his face, looking away from Quatre.
Quatre wasn't sure whether to laugh, or let his jaw drop at Duo's startling belief that he needed permission. He was flattered, yes, but at the same time, a bit mystified. He grabbed a chair, turning it around to mirror Duo's, and sat down with only a foot separating them. "Duo... it's been ten years. I'm with Wufei---" He bit back the addition of Meiran. Technically, they weren't really with Meiran yet, not in that sense, but he preferred to not speak of it until it was settled.
"Yeah, but... " Duo fingered the edge of the chair's back, and didn't look up. His face was beet-red.
"It's cool, really," Quatre said. "I'm happy for you. Does Heero---"
"Shh," Duo hissed, unexpectedly. He fidgeted in the chair. "We haven't said anything to him. We... y'know, it was just kind of sudden. I mean," and he waved one hand about, vaguely, "it's cool... it's... it's more than cool. But... I don't know. It's... "
"What's wrong?" Quatre furrowed his brows. "It's not like you three to keep secrets from each other."
"Yeah, that's just it!" Duo burst out, then quieted down, embarrassed again. "It felt like it would've been better if he'd been there, and I don't know about Trowa but it seems like if I say anything to Heero it'll be obvious that... I dunno," he finished, shrugging miserably. "I mean, he's all hooked on Lena, right? But that's not what I wanted---" He broke off with another coughing fit, and Quatre waited until Duo had regained his breath.
"Should you be doing... strenuous activities, after your injuries?" Quatre smirked.
"It wasn't that strenuous," Duo retorted.
"Then you were doing it wrong."
"Hey!" Duo glared, then frowned, ducking his head to rest it on his forearms. "Maybe we were. I'm not exactly the expert, y'know."
"You sure talked big when we were fifteen," Quatre reminded him.
Duo rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, I'd made out a few times. I got to feel a girl up, once." He twisted his lips, as though fighting off a smile. "And we were both eleven. There wasn't a great deal to feel up, at that age."
"Still, you moved awfully fast," Quatre prompted. A part of him was just too thrilled with the possible newfound happiness for all his teammates. Another part of him was gleefully enjoying Duo's obvious embarrassment.
"Not really," Duo said, almost reluctantly. "It was just a hand-job." He groaned, covering his face. "God, that sounds so crass."
"Which is why I'm not surprised to hear it coming from your mouth, Maxwell." Quatre didn't manage to dodge the immediate swat, and he yelped dramatically, rubbing his forehead as he pretended to smirk. "Oh, please, Maxwell, you've always had the worst---"
"Yeah, so?" Duo's eyes were intent, but he smiled, softening it. "This is different!"
"Okay. Different." Quatre nodded. "So? You're just here to gloat or something?"
"No." Duo's smile - and annoyance - faded into a contemplative expression. "Afterwards... I hung out with Hil, and I couldn't see anything."
Quatre sighed. He'd figured eventually he or Wufei would have to explain what they'd discovered, if the rest of the team had the same results. They'd never spoken of it, not wanting the other three to feel forced into taking their relationship to a level the three didn't otherwise desire.
"No threads, just... hints," Duo explained, waving one hand. "It's starting to come back, but... don't get me wrong, it was nice, but it was a little frightening." He gave Quatre a wide-eyed stare. "Is it the drugs they gave us? Or something in the water? Or---"
"Sex," Quatre said, flatly. "Well, actually, it's the orgasm itself. The same chemicals triggered by close physical contact that buffer our skills... well." He shrugged, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Those are a type of endorphin, and when you have an orgasm, it's flooding your body with endorphins, which heighten that buffer... "
"So I get laid," Duo whispered, "and I get a break that last several hours?" His blue eyes were wide, and he chuckled. His laughter broke off suddenly. "Wait... but when Trowa and---"
"I don't know," Quatre said. "She didn't have a corresponding chemical setup to trigger Trowa's buffer... so the endorphins, I think - I don't know - but I suspect the chemicals released during sex have the opposite effect, if the buffer isn't there."
Duo pondered that, frowning. "That seems unlikely. I mean, just from a logical---"
"Do I look like a doctor?"
"You look like a pervert who's getting off on hearing about my lurid sex life," Duo retorted.
Quatre rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, you so get around." He crossed his arms over the back of his chair and leaned forward, staring at the floor between them. "At least you're getting some."
"Hunh?" Duo shook his head. "Wait, I thought you two like... made up, an' stuff."
"Sort of." Quatre sighed, and smiled at his oldest friend. "But every time I see him, I keep remembering... god, Duo, it was like... " Quatre lowered his head until his forehead was resting on his crossed arms. "It was like it made perfect sense, that this is what I should do, and then this, and this. So clear-cut, so perfectly laid out... and all of it, brutal, ruthless, without the least consideration for the loss of human life."
Duo was silent.
Quatre didn't raise his head. "I don't want to believe I'm like that."
"Winner," Duo said, very quietly. "You are, though. You have this whole empathy thing going on... but inside, you've always been the one most willing to make the hard choices, of the five of us. No offense, and I'm not saying that this makes what happened with ZERO any better or worse." He sighed. "I'm just saying that I'm not going to let you fool yourself. Emotions have never been your basis for decisions. Just cold, hard, facts. Ignoring that truth about yourself isn't going to help you deal with what happened."
"Wufei said something like that, before this all started," Quatre muttered. "But I've never made choices so quickly to slaughter---"
"Not without careful consideration of the entire situation, measuring everything up first," Duo finished for him. Quatre nodded, his forehead moving against his arms, and Duo sighed again. A hand fell on Quatre's head, fingers running through his hair. "What I understand of ZERO, it does all that for you. It takes all the information, and sorts through all the threads and gives you the one that has the greatest chance of success." Duo chuckled, and the hand was removed from Quatre's head. "Hey, check that out," Duo whispered. "I've finally been replaced by a machine."
"Never," Quatre swore, raising his head to look at Duo. "You can do what ZERO didn't. You leave the choice to me."
"So the choice to fire wasn't yours," Duo replied.
"It was... a compulsion," Quatre said. "But if I believe the choice wasn't mine, then I'm agreeing on some level that I'm not in control of my own fate. Maybe that doesn't make sense, but that's what I feel."
"Winner," Duo said, gently, "you aren't in control. No one is. You can have that illusion if you want, but you aren't, I'm not, no one is. There is no fate. It's all chance."
Quatre exhaled noisily, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "I'm not going over this one again, Duo."
"You can agree to disagree all you like, but now you just might have been through something that proves my point. That when the threads are laid down, for all you are and believe, sometimes you just aren't big enough to fight back. ZERO took one course of action and rammed it down your throat. This is no different, really, from your everyday instinct that operates on a gut-level before you have a chance to see all the implications." Duo got up, and the chair scraped across the floor as he pushed it back under the table. "No fate, Winner. Just chance." He leaned over, kissed Quatre on the cheek, and then he was gone with cat-soft steps and trailing braid.
"Maybe," Quatre said, and lowered his head again.
"Long," Cat called, sticking her head through the door. "Copter's in sight. Zhiyi's back."
Meiran was off the bed in a heartbeat, Wufei right behind her, leaving Cat behind at the bunkroom door. Their footsteps echoed down the hallway, and up the metal stairs. Meiran shoved the door open, running out onto the ship's deck as the helicopter touched down on the helipad. The whipping blades billowed Meiran's shirt, the tails flapping wildly behind her as she waited, poised, on the edge of the pad.
Two men hopped out, a third man inside helping with the gurney. Wufei heard a shout, and gently pushed Meiran out of the way, letting the medical team pass. Meiran turned, her hands clasped against her chest as she watched every move anxiously, and Wufei dared to put his arm around her shoulders, giving her silent reassurance. The team wheeled the gurney away from the helicopter, and the pilot waved before lifting away. The gurney passed them, and Wufei could see Zhiyi's pale face, jet-black hair spread out across the pillow. She was covered with a white blanket, and strapped into place.
White, Wufei thought. The color of mourning.
He pelted down the stairs after Meiran, to be in the medical hallway of the ship by the time the tiny elevator arrived. There hadn't been enough room for them. One of the medical team had relayed the news that Zhiyi was mildly sedated for the trip, which explained her stillness despite the noise and furor of the helicopter arrival. Wufei stayed at Meiran's shoulder, holding back as Meiran trembled, watching the men settle Zhiyi down on the first bed in the bay. Wufei could see two hospital gowns balled up in the corner and he frowned momentarily, then remembered Une arranging for clothes for Trowa and Duo.
"Hey, little dragon," Meiran whispered, bringing Wufei's attention back to the present. She was leaning over the bed, smoothing Zhiyi's hair out of her face. Carefully she slipped a hand under the blanket, and Wufei saw the movement as Meiran cradled Zhiyi's hand. "Zhiyi, Xiao Long, it's Mommy."
"Mommy," Zhiyi murmured, her eyelashes fluttering. "Really, Mommy," she admonished, in a soft, breathless voice, "there's no reason to get upset. I'm fine." A frown passed over Zhiyi's face, and then smoothed as the girl fell back into sleep.
Meiran froze, then bent over, kissing Zhiyi on the forehead. When she stood, her face was a picture of shock. "Wufei," she said, blinking several times. "Is that the reaction I was supposed to get? I mean... she's still a child, isn't she?"
"Mei," Wufei said, drawing her from the room, and into the hallway. "I don't know. She is half-sedated."
"Yeah, I guess," Meiran said, letting Wufei lead her back to the bunkroom he shared with Quatre. "I just... " She shrugged, and Wufei was startled to feel her hand slip into his. "I just... I guess I thought she'd need me."
"She does, but the medicine probably says she needs sleep, more," Wufei assured her with a tentative smile.
Trowa smiled to himself when he heard Heero's footsteps in the hallway. Bending his head over the computer screen in the ship's library, he pretended complete ignorance. When the person was only two feet from the back of the chair, Trowa spoke.
"Good afternoon, Heero," he said, conversationally.
He was answered with a huff, and Heero sank into the chair next to him. "Damn."
"You still don't have Duo's step," Trowa said, not even looking up. "Keep working on it. Maybe in another decade you'll manage to fool me."
Heero snorted.
"You met the rest of the team?" Trowa glanced sideways at Heero, a quick look, and went back to scrolling rapidly through the history of the first year of the universal war. Quite arrogant to pick that title, he noted.
"Met Cat... Heavyarms pilot," Heero said. "This morning. She came by to see Lena."
"And how's Lena?"
"Don't know. I left to go spar with Wufei before she came around."
Trowa nodded. "Her injuries?"
"Survivable. Mostly superficial, but there's enough of them that her efficiency will be compromised for at least two weeks."
"Marco said it'd take a week to repair Talon, so it's not like Une's going to send her back out again immediately," Trowa pointed out. He pursed his lips, pausing for a second on a short blurb about Treize Khushrenada's mobile suit system designs. "Are you worried about her?"
"She's strong," Heero said.
"Not what I asked," Trowa replied. Something was twitching in his mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it, and decided to go with his instincts. "It's okay to be worried... that's part of the job."
"What job?" Heero frowned, a flash of confusion showing in his blue eyes.
"Of... " Trowa halted, and shrugged, rolling one shoulder in a lazy movement. "Y'know... being... friends. More than friends," he added, cautiously.
"Oh." Heero pondered that for several seconds. "I'm a little worried. But I know she's capable, like you two are. I don't worry about you or Duo when we're on a mission. I know you'll always come through."
Right, Trowa thought, and sighed. "Well... I worry," he said, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Sometimes."
Heero was silent again, staring off at the racks of videos and books in the one-room library, no larger than a spare bunkroom. The desk's location was in the same spot as the bunkroom he'd been assigned while Trowa and Duo were still stuck in the medical bay.
"Trowa," Heero said, then, an odd note of hesitation creeping into his words. "What do you think of Cat?"
"Don't know. I've only seen her two or three times, and each time she just gives me this weird look and then ignores me."
"Her brother was Trowa Barton."
"That would explain that," Trowa said, sighing. "I'm not her brother, though."
"But... it would be like the next best thing."
"I don't want the next best thing," Trowa replied, almost curtly. "Besides, I've noticed she does nothing but glare at Quatre, too. We were coming back from breakfast and Quatre nearly went down from the sensation." He pointed to the screen. "So I wanted to find out what happened in the---"
"Quatre killed Trowa, in this world," came the flat reply.
"Oh." Trowa felt the wind had been knocked out of him. "What... why?"
"Quatre was under the influence of ZERO then, too."
"Shit." Trowa sat back, and gave Heero his full attention. "That's fucked-up."
"You aren't mad at him?" Heero narrowed his eyes, studying Trowa's face intently, and Trowa followed Heero's intuitive jump easily.
"I... " Trowa ran his hands through his hair, leaning back in the chair and stretching for several seconds. "No, not really. I understand. Not then, but I do, now."
Heero didn't ask. He didn't need to; the question hung between them.
"When we were at the hotel," Trowa explained, "Duo saw our deaths in every thread he followed. He couldn't move, couldn't even formulate a plan, let alone convince himself of any alternate lines. He was completely frozen by what he saw, and would've followed it helplessly straight into death."
"Ah."
"Yeah," Trowa said, answering the question hiding in Heero's neutral one syllable response. "Sometimes, if you can only see one future, you follow it, even if it leads to death. Because dying then is better than refusing that future and dying now, just to avoid it what's coming... "
Heero was quiet for several minutes, and Trowa browsed the news of the past ten years, idly noting the guerrilla tactics Doro had used. It was a seemingly scattershot approach as five women were stretched out, across the globe, in support of the resistance groups, but Trowa could see a faint pattern. He was sure that Quatre would be able to pick out the strategy without much effort, and he considered using the topic as a way to break the uncomfortable silence that sometimes fell between them since his return. Beside him, Heero was staring down at his hands, turning them over and over. It was a remarkably uncharacteristic movement; Trowa would have called it nervous, had it been anyone else.
"Trowa," Heero said, quietly, his eyes still lowered. "Are you... happy?"
"Happy?" Trowa shrugged, then coughed a bit. "I'm not jump-up-and-down happy, no. But I suppose... I'm content."
"You are?"
"Yeah. Everyone that matters to me is safe, and we're not in a world where we're someone else's puppets." Trowa gave Heero a quick smile. "My needs are pretty simple."
"Even with war... "
"War is a source of unhappiness, but I don't think it's a shame to find happiness despite that."
"Do you regret not being... happy... sooner?" Heero's voice was flat, but somehow tentative. "Do you regret waiting?"
Trowa blinked, and closed the computer windows, focusing his attention on Heero. "No. There's a time and place for everything. But I was happy before, too. Just... it was more... because I was willing to... to settle," he finally said, deciding that word fit. "Now... we don't need to."
"Right." Heero stood up, and Trowa gave him a confused look.
"Yuy," Trowa started to say, but Heero shook his head and offered a small smile.
"I'm happy, too," Heero whispered, and left.
Quatre came awake with a start, and sat up in the bunk. Wufei's dark shape was still, lost in sleep. Quatre slid quietly from the bed without waking his partner. The room was chilly despite the sweatpants, and he grabbed a sweatshirt as he left the room. He padded down the hallway to Meiran's bunk, and he stood outside the door for several seconds before being certain the feeling wasn't coming from her. Continuing through the ship's hallways, he listened to the midnight sounds of metallic clanking, echoes of conversations filtering up from the late-night technicians working on the Gundams in the hold. Quatre winced at metal grill against his bare feet, but took the stairs quickly, heading towards the medical bay.
He was certain it wasn't one of his team-mates, although if any of the three had expressed a fear and regret that powerful, it just might have awakened him, regardless. No, he decided, the feeling was too vulnerable, too... young, he realized, standing outside the door to the medical bay. Pushing the newly-repaired door open on silent hinges, he could see Duo and Trowa sleeping in the far end, and Zhiyi's still form in the bed nearest the door. Trowa moved, then lifted his head, and Quatre held up a finger to his lips.
"Zhiyi," Quatre whispered, moving to stand alongside the bed. The waves of fear and shame were rolling off her pre-adolescent body, thick enough to make Quatre's vision swim a little. He braced himself, and put out a hand, putting it over hers, on top of the blanket.
"Mom---" Zhiyi's voice bit off as she came awake, and she blinked up at Quatre for several seconds. Then, unexpectedly, she started to cry. "No," she pleaded. "You shouldn't be here... I'm fine, I'm fine... "
Quatre settled down on the edge of the bed, leaning over her. Instinctively he knew what to do: keep his hand in hers, and raise the other one to stroke her cheek. His fingers came away wet, and gently he wiped her tears. "Zhiyi, what's wrong? You're not fine... "
"Am too," she insisted fiercely, her tears coming faster. She sniffled a little, and winced when she tried to raise her left arm to wipe her face. "I can be strong, too."
"Ah," Quatre said. He was aware that both Duo and Trowa were now awake, leaving their bed on silent feet to hover nearby. He raised one finger, flicking it rapidly, and knew they would understand. Wait. "You are strong, little dragon---"
"But not like Mommy," Zhiyi protested. "Mommy never cries or gets upset, and if she knew I was right now, I'll be dishonoring her. I don't want her to know I'm so weak! Go away, I don't want you to---"
"You're wrong," Quatre interrupted, but kept his voice low. "Your mother is one of the strongest people I know, but she does cry. Warriors can do that."
"I want to be strong like Mommy," Zhiyi said, her eyes opening wide to see Quatre in the half-light filtering from the emergency light over the door. "But it... " Her voice dropped to a low moan. "It hurt so bad, and there was blood everywhere, and Aunt Lucy... one minute she was laughing and the next minute---" Zhiyi broke off, sobbing, and Quatre reacted immediately. Lifting her up, he cradled her against his chest, careful to keep from hurting her shoulder. The thin body tensed, then relaxed as she broke down, sobbing hysterically. "And I was so scared... so scared... I shouldn't be scared, a warrior's never---"
"Where did you get these ideas?" Quatre didn't mean to say it out loud, but Zhiyi paused, sniffling, and he knew he'd been heard.
"Mommy always talked about Papa... the real Wufei," Zhiyi said, calming. She closed her eyes as Quatre brushed the tears away, and hiccuped. "She said he wasn't scared of anything. He took on all those OZ mobile suits all by himself... "
"I'm sure there were things that scared him," Quatre murmured. "Like losing your mother. Or the rest of his family. As a matter of fact, I happen to know that Wufei is a great warrior, but he's scared of elephants."
The room was silent for a heartbeat, and Zhiyi lowered her hand, giving Quatre a bewildered look. "Elephants?"
"Yeah," Quatre said. "See, Zhiyi, being a warrior doesn't mean you don't have feelings. Or that you don't get scared, or upset, or don't cry. That's being inhuman." He ran fingers through her dark hair, smoothing it away from her forehead. A few strands were caught in the tear tracks, and he pried them loose, and tucked them behind her ears. "A true warrior is someone who's more than human. That means you get scared, and happy, and upset, and sometimes you laugh and sometimes you cry. A warrior's weakness isn't in his feelings. A warrior is only weak if she refuses to accept that she has a heart. Your mother knows she has a heart, and that's why she's strong."
"I want to be strong," Zhiyi whispered. "Like Mommy and my Aunts... and like you guys," she added, glancing up at Quatre through her lashes. "I'm always in the way, and Mommy has to protect me or save me... If I'd been strong, Aunt Lucy would still be---"
"No," Quatre said, feeling the regret pouring from her, through him. "Noin... your Aunt Lucy... what happened is horrible. And we'll all mourn her and miss her, even me, even though I only knew her for a little while. But she was there to protect you, and that's what she did. Be proud of her... " He ran out of words, and sighed, instead.
"I should've helped more," Zhiyi told him, edging away from the grief and back into anger at herself. She was trembling, and Quatre held her close. "I'm always a burden---"
"You are not a burden. You're a big help. You were a big part of that attack on the Hague." He ran a hand down her cheek, and tapped his finger on her nose. "You are an important member of the team. We couldn't have done as much as we did without you."
"But I was so---"
"We all get scared," Duo said, from behind Quatre. He put one hand on Quatre's shoulder, and leaned over to smile at Zhiyi. "As a matter of fact, Quatre here is scared of getting shots."
"Shots?" Zhiyi looked skeptical. "That's nothing."
Quatre grunted. "Well, I disagree. Shots are... " He shuddered, trying to play up the comical element, but knowing Duo and Trowa were fully aware of the reason behind his fear. He settled for giving Duo a disgusted look. "And Duo here is afraid of bees."
Duo sighed. "I don't want to get stung," Duo insisted. "But if it helps, Trowa is terrified of chain saws."
"Hey!" Trowa's quiet protest was lost in Zhiyi's giggles. "They're loud," Trowa explained, frowning a little. "And they shake a whole bunch, like they're just going to fly off in your hands and cut something."
"They're supposed to cut things, Barton," Quatre replied. "That's kind of the idea."
"Well, I wouldn't mind if they weren't so noisy," Trowa retorted, but Quatre noticed Trowa winked at Zhiyi, who smiled back, a genuine look. Duo settled down on the other side of the bed from Zhiyi, and leaned over to stare at her shoulder in the semi-darkness.
"Now you're one of us," Duo said, softly. He leaned back, and pulled up his shirt, pointing to a scar across his chest. "Can you see that?"
"Yeah." Zhiyi's eyes were wide, the humor gone instantly. "What happened?"
"Some guy tried to knife me on a mission," Duo told her. "Blood everywhere. Boy, I thought I was a goner. And all that blood... think I threw up three times, just from seeing it."
"Heero had to hold his hand while he got stitches," Trowa added.
"It hurt!" Duo made a face.
"I... " Zhiyi's sigh caught their attention, and the two men quieted, letting her speak. "I wouldn't have thought you'd say it'd hurt," Zhiyi said. She stared down at the blanket, and her hand tightened in Quatre's again.
"A warrior can admit when it hurts," Quatre said.
"Being brave doesn't mean you don't have fears," Trowa added. "It just means you fight anyway."
"Even when you're really, really scared?" Zhiyi looked back and forth between the three men, uncertainly.
"Absolutely," Duo said, smiling. "The first step to being a strong warrior is knowing what you're scared of."
"I'm scared my mother will get hurt. I'm scared of losing someone else in my family." Zhiyi twisted to look down at the bandages, and sighed. "And I'm scared of ever getting shot again. Cause that really hurt."
"Hell, yeah," Duo replied. "I hate getting shot! Hurts like a---" Quatre glared, and Duo shifted in mid-word. "---Like a big dog," he concluded.
"A big dog?" Zhiyi made a face. "That's not what you were going to say."
"Uh... " Duo grinned. "Well, okay. I'm scared of bees, but I'm more scared of what your mother would do to me if she found out I cussed around you."
Doro leaned back against the train seat, watching her reflection in the window. The outside world was dark, broken only by the quick glimpses of house lights through the trees. It felt as though the entire world had fallen into a somnolent state, content to drift and sway as the train rumbled over the century-old tracks. The constant motion and movement soothed her, like being cradled in Sandrock's cockpit, the engines roaring beneath her hands. She straightened the hat, and pulled the train system's complimentary blanket up a little farther under her chin. Stretching back, she could hear the rustling of the ticket in the back pocket of her jeans.
"This seat taken?" The man pointed to the seat opposite Doro, and she shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the knots forming in her stomach. Surreptitiously she glanced around the car; it was mostly empty, yet the man had taken that particular seat. He leaned back, lines in his face and dirty brown hair made her guess him to be in his late thirties, possibly early forties. He studied the dark glass for a bit before giving her a smile. "Not much scenery, is it?"
"No," she replied, and turned her face towards the window again, trying to appear calm. So close, she told herself. So close; don't let this be where it ends.
"Johan," the man said, unperturbed. His voice was a whisper, almost fading beneath the train's progress across the dark land. "Perhaps you knew my younger brother, Otto."
"Can't say that I did," Doro replied, evenly. "I've known a great many people in my lifetime, and Otto is a rather common name."
"But there's only been one Otto who built Tallgeese," Johan said. "And I'm the only one who went a step further."
"Excuse me?" Doro shifted under the blanket, finding her sidearm. The click of the safety going off might as well have been a thunderclap, and Johan sat up straighter. Doro gave him credit for the fact that he didn't drop his gaze to watch the blanket, but kept his eyes fixed on hers. "You were saying," she prompted, in a hiss.
"Your cousin, Khushrenada, designed a system based on Tallgeese," Johan explained. "He never had a chance to build it, before he died. From what I can tell, you've shown your hand, now. The Foundation's aware of the fact that you've scavenged your own Gundams to make five more, less the one you self-destructed today." He shrugged, but a twitch from Doro, and he froze, although a slow smile spread across his face. "The Foundation's ignorant of your survival, Miss Catalonia. And you're this close to victory, from what we can---"
"Who's we?" Doro snapped.
"Sweepers," Johan said.
"Sweepers have been loyal to the Foundation for years," Doro replied. "The majority of them are no better than---"
"No better than a lot of things," Johan said. "We protect our livelihood, yes. And we've hidden a lot of things, and stayed in space rather than get involved in the bloodshed. We're not fighters. We're just mechanics and dockworkers. But we've kept the plans safe all this time, and we've finally finished construction. You don't have a Gundam, but somehow you're alive---"
"How did you find me?"
"We watched the vids, ma'am," Johan drawled. "There were a few things that stood out, and when some off-duty Sweepers reported seeing a woman who looked a lot like Sandrock's pilot, but missing all that hair... it started to make sense." He raised a hand, freezing when Doro narrowed her eyes. Sighing, he dropped the hand, revealing the empty palm. "Just wanted to tip my hat to you, woman. That was one slick move."
"Consider it tipped. Now go away."
"I'm not done yet," Johan said. "You don't have a way to fight, but we do."
"Then fight, and leave me out of it." Doro turned to stare out the window, but kept her gun at the ready, under the blanket.
"I'm here to make an offer."
"Not interested."
"Just hear me out."
Doro glared. "If I do, will you go away?"
"Ten years ago, your cousin designed a system for you," Johan said, calmly. "He never built it. We have."
"What?" Doro's eyes went wide. The sweat on her palm made the gun slippery in her hand.
"I'm here to offer you Epyon."
End Part 19
(:./sol/tetra19)
