24-Oct-2004
Title: Tetractys: Da'ath, II
Author: Sol 1056
Rating: R for violence and language, some adult situations
Pairings (currently): 1+R, 1+2+3, 2x3x2, 4x5xM
Disclaimer: no, don't own 'em... duh.
Archived: sweetlysour and gwaddiction
Critiques: always welcome, natch!
Many thanks to Mal, Kage, and Zaz for their help figuring out the abyss.
Week One
The lamp flickered and went out. Something bumped it, rattling it; it came back on, revealing a teenaged girl typing at a computer. The small screen was hooked to several boxes in a row, which in turn had wires snaking around to a telephone, a small radio box, and out the window where a wire plugged into what looked like a television antenna.
"Come on, come on, come on," the girl whispered. Somewhere in the building a door slammed, and the girl glanced over her shoulder, nervous. Her hair was slicked back, still wet from the shower. She was dressed in pajamas; there was a hole at the heel of her right sock.
"Yes," she muttered, and picked up a cell phone. Hitting several buttons, she plugged in a headset and put it on. "Hey, Jeremy, I'm in. Start the distractions."
She was quiet for a few seconds, but the sound of her typing filled the little room. Halfway through typing, she sat up long enough to tuck one leg under her and hunched back over the keyboard.
"Okay... I'm ready. Put Linda on." The girl paused, and grinned at the screen, her voice still low, barely louder than the quieter keyboard. "I got the Asia network... Bombing in Hong Kong and Singapore... wait'll you see these pictures! Yeah!" The girl bounced in her seat twice, and then settled down, punching in several commands. "Sent." She scrolled through several pages, her eyes scanning the tiny lines of text. "Wow. It's like Mari blew up Dinh and now there's five little Dinhs." She laughed softly and closed the window. "Got that one? Okay, tell Jeremy I'm getting out."
She closed several programs, and opened up a small window on the terminal. Green font on black screen scrolled past, and she paused to listen to something outside her window. A car went by on the street, and she shook her head, muttering something reassuring to the person on the other end of the line. The girl sighed heavily.
"Europe... the Sanq trio still stands! Tell Jeremy he owes me ten credits." The girl stuck her tongue out at the computer screen, and typed in a few more lines of code. Something flickered at the corner of the screen. "Routing second batch... wait'll you see the bit about Austria an' France... " The girl chewed her lower lip, paging down through a window of solid text. "Whoa. Turkey's raising objections in the Foundation's latest conference... Shit," the girl said, closing the window. "Sorry. Alright, alright, it's sent." She rubbed her forehead, and opened a new window. "What's... yeah, I'm outta that system. Tell Jeremy I'm sorry. I'll like, buy him a pizza at that place in Sector Two or something." The girl giggled. "Shut up, you. I do not have a crush--"
The window flashed, command lines rolling to a halt, and the girl frowned.
"Hold on, screen freeze. Stupid old system." She hit several buttons. "I'm trying to get into the... What?" She sat up straight, and glanced over her shoulder. "Fuck, I'm shutting--" She leaned over to hit a blue button on the first hard-drive. The headset caught, and she jerked it angrily off her head. She punched in the button, then sat up right again.
"--Down," she finished, and sighed, falling back in her chair. She stared at the ceiling for a heartbeat, and picked up the headset. "Gotta go, Linda, I'll meet you at--"
The door slammed open. The girl twisted in her seat, her cell phone raised. Gunfire flared in the doorway, and the rounds slammed into her petite body. Six shots blasted the night's peace. She fell back awkwardly; her upper body sprawled across the desk. Two more bullets hit the computer's screen. Sparks arced, landing in the girl's hair.
"Clear," a man's voice said. "Suspect was holding a gun... " Heavy footsteps trod schoolbooks, a sandal, a bloodstained school blouse. One boot nudged the girl's body, and stepped away to bump against the cell phone, its light still blinking. " ...Shit. It's just a kid. A fuckin' teenager, man... "
Under the desk, the hard-drive's little blue button turned red.
The room exploded.
Week Two
Ango leaned over, her arms braced against the console, and idly kicked the console's upright. "We need more supplies. Water, canned goods, and antibiotics... " She looked over her shoulder at Terra. "At least we're okay on ammunition."
"I'll try," Terra said, not quite meeting Ango's eyes. "I think we can get water, but Janah says the Foundation's rationing food far more closely than they have before. She's going to ask the employees to tighten their belts some more, but... "
"Yeah." Ango stared down at the dark computer screens. "We can spare two shuttles for water transport."
"They'll need an escort," Terra replied. "It's touch and go around L1."
"Use that Foundation shuttle," Geori said, from the corner where he sat fiddling with some mechanical part. "We can probably fake 'em out with it one or two more times."
"But that'll mean more fuel, to come around the far side of L1 and fall into the shipping lanes," Terra muttered.
"Terra," Quatre said, stepping into the computer room. "The 05s took out the Foundation shipments heading for L4."
"Full of food, I hope," Ango said, turning.
"Meiran sent the transport list," Quatre said. He leaned against the doorway, and tried not to yawn. "Mostly fresh food, marked for the military sector."
"Figures." Ango brightened. "We'll eat well tomorrow."
"No." Terra shook her head. "How many transports, Quatre?"
"Three."
"Tell the 05s to hold position until we can send pilots. Then take 'em the rest of the way to L4," Terra instructed. "Bring one transport back here."
"That's food," Ango said. "Food we need!"
"And it's food that could convince L4 we're on their side," Terra shot back. "It's not going to do us any good to wage war on the Foundation only to find the colonists learned to hate us in the meantime. Fresh food will win their loyalties."
"She's right," Quatre added. "I'll inform the 05s." He glanced at Ango, and his blue eyes were bloodshot. "Any word?"
"No." Ango couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm sorry. The guys are listening to every frequency they can."
"Then I'm going to crash for a bit." Quatre's jaw was tight. "I'll do another run around L1, in a few hours."
"Good," Terra said. "Dismissed, 04."
Quatre paused for a second, then shrugged, and was gone.
Week Three
Zhiyi stumbled along behind Rob, scowling. Her stomach was empty, but whining wasn't going to get anything more than another blow to the head. She kept her eyes open and her head down, following closely behind the man as they hiked across a field. She wondered how far they'd gone, and wished she'd paid more attention when Cat had tried to teach her geography.
She didn't close her eyes. When she did, she could see Marco's body, dumped in a ditch a mile from the Dublin shuttle port. Zhiyi fingered the ring on the chain around her neck, and set her jaw.
"Perfect," Rob said, and grinned. "See that house? You're going up to the front door and wake those nice people from their warm beds." He dropped his backpack, and sorted through the interior until he found something long and metal. He screwed it on the gun.
Zhiyi could see the small house under a stand of trees. There were two cars in the driveway, and she did her best to keep her face impassive.
Be like Uncle Wufei, she told herself. She raised her chin, as if at attention.
"Go knock, and tell them your daddy's car broke down and you need help," Rob said. He stood up, slinging the pack over his shoulder. "Do anything suspicious, and I'll shoot you. Just get those people out where I can see them."
Zhiyi stared at the gun in his hand, recognizing the laser scope. She nodded, numb, and when he shooed her away, she trod the grass across the small field, up to the house's broad porch.
Please don't kill anyone else, she whispered. The ring on the chain was a warm weight, despite being delicate filigree. It was stained with Marco's blood, but Zhiyi hadn't washed it off. Somehow, leaving the darkness on the shiny silver ring made it seem like he was still with her.
Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.
Week Four
"If you love your property and belongings more than freedom," Lena said, staring down the members of parliament, "and the peace of servitude more than liberty, then leave in peace."
The subway station was massive, and the high vault picked up her voice, echoing it back and forth across the crowd. The treasonous members of parliament, many in handcuffs, stared up at her sullenly, Baltoja at their head. Resistance fighters flanked the prisoners, gun hands relaxed but ready. Heero and Cat stood at Lena's shoulders, their gazes roving across the crowd. In the distance, Heero could see Duo's black cap as he wove through the audience, checking things out unobtrusively.
"We seek not your advice, nor your assistance," Lena continued, imperiously. Her flight suit jacket hung open to reveal a white tank top; there was a bruise on her cheek from slamming into Talon's side screen in a battle two days before. "Go, beg favors like a dog, and lick the hand that feeds you."
The crowd murmured, a ripple of whisper that ran from one end of the subway station to the other. Representatives from the major cities in Sanq, new members of Sanq's House of Commons, were elbow-to-elbow with hastily elected representatives of each borough in Tirana.
"May your collar be light upon you," she told them, "and may history forget that you were my countrymen."
Lena nodded to one of the resistance leaders, and he bowed curtly before waving to his troops. The Foundation-loyal lords were led from the subway station, and the crowd parted. No one spoke, and Heero was relieved at the calm. He'd expected cursing, shouting, perhaps even people throwing things or spitting on the traitors. Instead, the crowds averted their eyes, as though sensing Lena's sadness and pity for those being banished.
When the last Parliament member was gone around the subway's long corridor, Lena shifted. Heero sensed she was close to collapse, but she didn't - and wouldn't - show it before her people. She nodded to Tirana's local representative, Peter Jacobi, who joined her on the makeshift stage.
"All parties are accounted for," he told the crowd. "Is there anyone here not familiar with the nominees' plans for the country's defense?"
Several people raised their hands.
"Keep your hands up, and someone will come around with a copy of the three speeches." Jacobi nodded his thanks to Lena, while Heero helped her down off the stage. "Okay. Sorry to rush you, but read it quickly. Uh, ten minutes, and then we'll vote."
Jacobi's voice faded when the three took a side corridor away from the main station. Lena sighed, and Heero gave her a curious look, but offered no comment.
"I'm so exhausted," she admitted, in a soft voice. "I couldn't even remember the damn quote properly, let alone come up with one of my own."
Heero frowned. "Those weren't your words?"
"No." Lena chuckled. "I wish. Found it in a book of quotes in the library rubble, last week. Seven or eight hundred years old, but it fit."
"Hey, princess," Duo called from behind them. "Did you want me to stay while they vote?"
"Sure, please," Lena said, turning around to give him a weary smile. "Doro's expecting me, or I'd stay."
Duo nodded, tipping his cap to her, and turned back towards the crowd. His braid swung around behind him, slapping against his hips with every step.
Heero stifled a sigh, then felt a prickle at the back of his neck. He turned to see Lena giving him an appraising look.
"Have you talked to them?" She exchanged a look with Cat, who moved ahead down the hallway. Lena caught Heero by the elbow, tugging him until he began walking. "I know we're all in battle-mode, but at some point... "
"I know," Heero said. He didn't want to talk about it. Any fears, any hurts, would only be multiplied tenfold if any of the three of them confessed to such feelings. Lena and her teammates had a completely different way of dealing with things. "I'll try, I promise," he said, and gave her a small smile.
Doro was waiting at the subway's administrative offices, which had become a conference room in the wake of the city's repeated bombings. Carrie was at her side, pouring a cup of coffee. When she saw Lena step through the door, Carrie hurried to bring a second cup to Lena.
"We've got word," Doro told Lena. "I had messages sent out on the net. Hopefully one of those three will get it."
"Well?" Lena tensed, and Heero blinked, realizing Doro was grinning widely.
"We intercepted a message to Mariemaia. Zhiyi's alive. The guy who kidnapped her wants the Foundation to pay a bounty." Doro rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we tracked down the source. She's in Rennes."
"Deep in the heart of enemy territory," Cat muttered.
"I'll go," Heero said, and looked across the room to see Trowa push away from the wall. Heero gave Lena a stiff nod that was the most he could manage of a formal bow. Her face crumpled, but she only nodded.
"We'll go," Trowa added, coming to stand beside Lena. His green eyes blazed, and he jerked his head so his hair fell away from his face. He held Lena's gaze for a long heartbeat, then looked past her to Cat. After another pause, Trowa glanced down at Heero, a smirk playing across his lips. "Ready?"
Heero snorted, and led the way from the room.
Week Five
The bombs overhead shook the subway's foundation, and Lena crouched on the bed, the blanket around her shoulders. She could barely hear the knock at the door, but it came again when the bombs ceased for a few minutes.
"Come in," she called, and reached out, flicking on the battery-operated light. The small office was barely lit by the modified flashlight.
"Lena," Duo said, his voice soft. "Mind if I come in?"
"Not at all." She patted the bed next to her. "Not like I was sleeping. What's up?"
Duo sat down heavily at the end of the bed. "It was a trap, Lena. We're not sure of the details, but it seems Heero and Trowa got away. Significant damage, judging by the news reports in France."
"Shit." Lena stared into the room's darkness, barely noticing another round of explosions overhead. "Shit," she repeated, softer.
"Yeah. Sorry to bring bad news," Duo replied. "I'll bet they've gone to ground... and I can promise you they'll return safely."
"You can?" Lena gave him a sharp look.
"I can see... " Duo smiled, a wry look. "I can see you yelling at Doro about Heero's idiocy. Shrapnel in his arm, something like that... "
"Oh." Lena fiddled with the blanket. "So... should we change what we're doing? Send someone after them?"
"I don't know." Duo pulled his braid around, and smoothed down the hairs coming undone. He pulled off the band, and swiftly rebraided the bottom half before tying it up again. "What was your first thought when you heard the news?"
"Don't hate me?" Lena waited until Duo nodded, and then took a deep breath. "That they'll have to get themselves out. I can't spare anyone, and I can't go off on a wild goose chase after them." She frowned. "Unless they get caught. Then... having them in the Foundation's hands is too dangerous."
"You'd eliminate them," Duo said, a sad question and a statement.
Lena nodded, unable to speak.
"You're a lot like Heero," Duo told her. "He'd say the same thing, so don't worry. If that happens - and I don't know if it will, to be honest - he'd understand. They both would."
"Thanks. I guess." Lena rubbed her forehead. The earth rumbled, but quieter; the bombing jets were moving farther away. "It's just... peace is what's important. Winning this is what's important, with as little loss of life... and while our friends are important, too, I can't... "
"I know." Duo stood up, and pushed Lena over until she was lying with her head on the pillow. He straightened up the blanket, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Get some sleep, Lena. Big day tomorrow, y'know, being queen-like and all that."
"Yeah, real queen-like, sending the children away... " Lena laughed, a soft bitter sound, and rolled over on her stomach. Duo began rubbing her back, and soon she was drifting to sleep while Duo hummed a lullaby she didn't know, but thought she should.
Week Six
"Isabella, honey! Two cups of coffee, and some of that amazing peach pie!" The speaker, a man in his sixties but with a head of thick black hair, leaned against the counter. He glanced the half-empty diner before looking at his companion. "Gimme the news."
"Big news first?" Ramirez's grin was wide enough to split his face in two. "First, that little princess in Sanq's been crowned."
"No shit." Austin's eyes went wide, and the smile that crossed his face was no less wide, if more hopeful. It might even have been sweet, on a man with a face less like a hatchet job. He'd seen too many wars and worked too hard, but the romantic in him was applauding. "Damn. How'd they pull that off?"
"Word is she was crowned at dawn, in the rubble that used to be Sanq's state house," Ramirez replied. He leaned back, nodding casually to Isabella, and stirred the black coffee with a thoughtful look. "Started secret, but by the end, people were coming out to see. Word spread fast. Saw the pictures, smuggled up onto the 'net. Gave me goose bumps, it did."
Austin laughed, a harsh sound. "You?"
"Yeah. She looks so tiny in the midst of all of them... " Ramirez shrugged, and sipped his coffee, wincing at the heat on his tongue. "Anyway, from there she went to see a bunch of war protestors. Told 'em to pack their bags and leave the country if they wanted tyrannical peace more 'n fighting for liberty. Said their refusal to even help is hindering, and she won't have their non-action be responsible for her peoples' deaths."
"Kicked 'em out!" Austin whistled, and took a bite of pie. Around the sweetness, he gave Ramirez a pointed look.
"Right. Foundation's got that kid... Gee-yee, daughter of Shenlong or Nataku, one of 'em strange-name Gundams."
"They're all strange names."
"I'm kinda partial to Talon and Wing," Ramirez replied, unperturbed.
"It's not footy, man." Austin stabbed his pie, shoveling another piece into his mouth. Mariemaia had done several broadcasts showing the little girl clean and happy, claiming the leaders of the Children's Crusade had been found, tried, and executed for their manipulation. It turned his stomach.
"Yeah, anyway, there're sites popping up with rumors that Gee-yee hasn't actually met with the bitch up top. They just keep scooting her around the world, showing her off at hotspots." Ramirez shrugged. "Kid's had it rough, man."
"Asia?" Austin rolled his eyes. "Find anything on that zone?"
"Ten different bases, now. All claiming to be their own little Foundation, and it's spreading. Information smuggled up to the 'net changes as fast as the Foundation can shut the pages down. Alliances form and break off faster than I can hit refresh," Ramirez said. "And the Foundation's got fingers in all of it - trying to track through those systems is like sending up a red-hot flare... "
"That close?" Austin looked impressed. Ramirez was one of the best hackers in the Madrid underground. If Ramirez thought he needed to move fast, any other hacker would be already dead. "What about the colonies?"
"L1 has been liberated. Word is the colony's hired its own representative, wanted to negotiate with the Foundation. Problem is they've got thirty-two days or so before their rotational shift, and without the Foundation to power that... " Ramirez sighed, his expression rueful. "I think it's mostly kids running their news network, y'know? Bad spelling, grammar, and damn if they don't think white font on black looks cool."
Austin guffawed. "Can't you do overrides?"
"Not when you're going through the code interface to get what's archived," Ramirez replied, rolling his eyes. "The Foundation's good, but they can't get every shadow off the routers between here and L1."
"Any news on L4?"
"Minimal. Seems to be utter chaos. Rioting in the streets, massive destruction. Those pacifists were all for helping someone else, until they realized they were next. Then they just turned on each other... " Ramirez shrugged. "The pictures aren't pretty, man."
"L3?"
"No word," Ramirez said. "Probably quite peaceful on the other side of the sun... "
"All they build are military machines," Austin said. He pushed away his empty plate, and dropped a few credits on the countertop. "They're hardly going to bite the hand that feeds them. I'll write something up and get it to Julio in an hour. Be ready to pick-up at noon... you're still running distro on the east end, right?"
"I'll be there," Ramirez said.
Week Seven
"It's a blessing and a curse," Doro muttered, staring at the map. She looked up at Lena, and shook her head. "The insurrections in Asia are being shut down, one by one, and that's keeping the real heat away from us." She knew she didn't need to say it out loud; the minute Mariemaia was done with Asia, she'd be turning her full attention on Sanq.
Lena nodded. Colonel Marconi entered the room; the new temporary headquarters were ten miles north of Tirana, away from the nightly bombing raids. It wasn't as secure as the deep subways, Doro complained to herself, but at least there was sunlight. Lena accepted Marconi's bow with a smile; Prime Minister Cole was with her. Both looked haggard. Cole's brown hair was lanky from dirt and sweat, and his jacket was in disarray.
"Your majesty," Cole said, and sat immediately. It had taken a week to get him to stop bowing and being formal, Doro recalled dryly. Cole accepted a cup of watered-down coffee from Carrie with a smile. He pushed the papers across the desk. "The casualty reports you requested."
"You don't have to read those," Doro said, softly. She put her hand on Lena's, forestalling the action. "Lena... "
"I do." Lena pushed Doro's hand away, and picked up the papers. The numbers jumped out at her, and she blinked away the impulse to scream. Twenty. Five hundred. Seventy. Two hundred. "They're my people. I need to know. Any updates on the children?"
"Safe," Cole confirmed. He said nothing more; only Doro, he, and Lena knew of the Tirana children's actual whereabouts in the mountains. Each city had agreed to keep its children's destinations secret, for fear of turncoats and spies. Cole shuffled the rest of his papers, glancing over them. "We've gotten word from the three Gundams in Northern Europe. Sweden and Norway have formed a coalition with Denmark, and are negotiating with Finland. They're taking a different route, insisting the Foundation recognize them as a bloc. Scandinavian Union."
"Mariemaia's response?"
"Nothing yet. The majority of her naval force is in the J.A.P.," Cole replied. "And there's a rumor in the Spanish underground that just came through... Zhiyi was seen in Madrid this afternoon, at the shuttle port."
Lena glanced at Doro, who shook her head minutely, and Lena scowled. "Did the rumor include her destination?"
"The shuttle's heading to an MEO," Cole said. "The informant couldn't determine which one."
"Mid-earth orbit," Doro murmured. "From any MEO, it's a quick jump to L4 or L1."
"And L1 is fighting in the streets with the Foundation," Cole replied, shrugging. "While L4 is fighting with itself, and just running amok."
"L3 is still loyal," Lena said. "Perhaps that's where Mariemaia's now. It's her family's colony, after all."
"That's a long way away to run a war," Cole said. "I don't think you're going to have much luck finding Mariemaia, and it's a waste of time and energy to worry about it. We need to focus on defending Sanq."
"We need to take the battle to Mariemaia," Doro retorted. She ran a hand through her hair, startled once again at just how short it was, and dropped her hand. "But yes... defend Sanq... "
"Suggestions?" Lena glanced at Marconi. "What do the city generals say?"
"Naples began torching its ports this afternoon," Marconi reported. "Genoa is bombing its highway system, and the aboveground rails in Ljubljana are... well, they're toast, your majesty."
Doro snorted. "That's succinct."
"There are four hundred thousand troops awaiting their marching orders, along our border," Marconi reminded her. "We can't make it easy for them."
"How's our defense militia?" Lena sat up, looking at the map spread across the table. "Have the troops arrived from Romania?"
"Tomorrow morning," Marconi said. "The rest are focused in Iasi, and doing runs across Moldova and the Ukraine on the Foundation bases there."
"Risky," Doro commented. At a questioning look from Marconi, Doro pointed out the locations on the map. "First, they're dividing their defense between two locations. Mariemaia's smart enough to drive right down the middle and isolate each. Second, bombing the neighboring countries could result in those countries seeing Romania as the aggressors, and fighting back."
"Romania's been waiting for decades to pound the living shit out of their neighbors," Cole muttered. He looked over at Lena, flushing slightly. "Ah, sorry, your majesty."
"Not a problem," Lena replied, giving him a gracious smile. It became a frown, as she stared at the map. "Our allies are fucking morons, honestly."
Cole choked on his coffee, and Lena flashed him another smile.
"Marconi," Lena said, "tell the Belgrade General to send half those Romanian troops back. Divide them between Cluj-Napoca and Ploiesti. The major urban centers are where Mariemaia will focus, if she invades."
"That cuts down their assistance to only twenty thousand troops," Marconi protested.
"Yeah... but if Romania and Bulgaria fall, we won't be far behind," Doro said.
Week Eight
Zhiyi tightened the bands around her pigtails, and stared into the mirror. For a moment she didn't recognize her own face; she remembered the one picture her mother had of her parent's wedding. Carefully Zhiyi reached up, tugging on a few strands around her face, until the hair fell down in disarray. Satisfied, she pulled out Marco's mother's ring from under her shirt, and stared at it for a few seconds before tucking it away.
Straightening her shoulders, she pushed open the bathroom door to find two guards waiting for her. They opened the door to the hallway. She strode through, feeling very young on the inside, but doing her best to appear calm.
Down the space station's hallway, and around a corner to a wide set of wooden doors. They were out of place in the metallic world of the station, and Zhiyi studied them carefully. One of the guards knocked, and a female voice called out permission to enter. The guard pushed the door open.
The room was huge; maybe enough space to fit two Gundams lying down, Zhiyi decided. A massive wooden desk sat at the far end. The carpet was plush red, matching red-flocked wallpaper. Zhiyi glanced up at the ceiling, with its intricate repeating design. There were wall hangings at regular intervals along the side, and she eyed them as she trotted forward to a chair in front of the desk. It seemed the most likely destination for her.
She dropped into the seat as gracefully as she could manage, and looked around for whomever had called out permission.
On the wall behind the desk were a series of cabinet doors, and one was open. It moved, and then was swung shut, and Mariemaia appeared, a jug of water in hand. She set it down on the bare desk and produced two glasses, pouring a glass for Zhiyi before pouring one for herself. Then she sat down, pushing the jug to the side.
"Zhiyi Long," Mariemaia said. "I'd say we finally meet, but that sounds rather like a bad science fiction movie, don't you think?"
Zhiyi stared at the woman, not sure how to respond. She did her best not to fidget, and decided to take a tip from Lena. She reached for the glass, holding it carefully between her hands, and took a long swallow before setting it back on the desk. Then she nodded, and folded her hands in her lap.
Mariemaia chuckled, and tossed her auburn-red hair over her shoulder. "It just seems... synchronous, doesn't it? Your mother killed my father, and here we are."
Zhiyi nodded again, cautiously.
"I'm not going to bite, girl," Mariemaia said, a bit harshly. She halted, then sighed, leaning her elbows on the table. "You'd rather have peace, wouldn't you?"
"And freedom," Zhiyi said, quaking on the inside as the words fell out of her mouth.
"Gutsy, but then, you are your mother's child." Mariemaia shrugged. "Freedom brings war. Only a solid rule can bring peace. But perhaps war is inevitable. I was raised to believe it was, but then I disproved it with so many years of peace. The world was safe, except for your mother and her friends... disrupting everything, and just proving how feral we really are."
"Feral," Zhiyi whispered under her breath, trying to remember what the word meant.
"Primitive," Mariemaia explained, not missing a beat. "Base. Instinctual. We act not because we think, but because we're compelled. War... peace... rebellion. It never really ends."
"Do you want it to?"
Mariemaia looked surprised, and leaned back in her chair, staring across the room at one of the wall hangings. "If I accept that it's inevitable, then there's no point in wasting time wishing it would end. It will when it's time."
"That seems rather... " Zhiyi cast about for the words. "Fatal something."
"Fatalistic?" Mariemaia smiled, and it was a weary expression on such a beautiful face. "Maybe. I've done my best to bring peace to the world. I created a strong economy, expanded trade between nations and the colonies, and stopped age-old fighting between countries that now work together in peace. And still they want war... "
You did a lot of bad things, too, Zhiyi wanted to say. She covered her annoyance by taking another long swallow of water.
"Your Excellency," came a voice behind Zhiyi.
She nearly spilled the water, startled, but managed to set it back on the desk without losing a drop. Zhiyi turned to see an older man, white-haired, gnarled fingers clutching a screen-pad.
"Doctor Darrow!" Zhiyi was stunned. "You're okay! We hadn't... " Her voice trailed off as it dawned on her. The man didn't quite meet her eyes, and she turned back to see Mariemaia's cruel smile. "He's... but... "
"Doctor Darrow recognizes that the Barton-Khushrenada dynasty is the only one that can truly bring peace to this world," Mariemaia said. "In his world, as I understand it - phenomenal accomplishment, I must say, bringing them over - my father was defeated, as was my counterpart. She didn´t strike hard enough or fast enough, and that world has been at conflict since."
"That's not what Marco said," Zhiyi retorted. "He said it was a good world. Not like this one--"
Darrow's eyes opened wide, and he gave Zhiyi a tentative smile.
"You have news of Doctor Lang?" Darrow looked pleased.
"Oh." Zhiyi fell back in her seat, and nodded sadly. "He was... he's dead."
"War," Mariemaia said, as if this explained everything. She waved a hand at Zhiyi. "Run along, child. We'll speak later."
Zhiyi frowned, but got up, not sure of the point of their meeting. She glanced at Darrow, who lowered his eyes when she passed. Across the broad room, her footsteps muffled on the carpet, and she paused before putting her hand on the doorknob. But she didn't know what else to do, so she pulled the door open and stepped outside to find her guards waiting.
Week Nine
"How's she doing?" Quatre hit the button to close the room's door behind him. Wufei looked up from the bed, smoothing back Meiran's hair, and shook his head. Quatre came to stand next to him. "Shit."
"She'll be out for at least an hour," Wufei murmured. "The doctor was ready to just hit her on the head. Damn bastard, hoarding the supplies we fought to bring--"
"Shh," Quatre said, and rubbed Wufei's shoulders. "I know. I just... wish they'd warned us."
"Your counterpart's sister doesn't seem to have learned any of his diplomatic skills." Wufei snorted. "Just slap the news right up there on the screen and then have the gall to wonder why Meiran went ballistic. The nerve. Personally, I think the doctor should've offered to punch Terra, not Meiran. How did they think she would react, anyway?"
"I don't know." Quatre sighed, remembering the difficulty of holding both Meiran and Wufei back. Meiran had been spitting nails, screaming, practically hysterical; Wufei hadn't been much help, making suggestions both of what he'd do to Mariemaia and what he'd do to Terra for her smug expression.
"She's like Khushrenada," Wufei whispered, startling Quatre.
"What? Meiran?"
"No, Terra." Wufei shrugged. "Except... in reverse, and I guess I'm not making much sense. Khushrenada kept us isolated, bound to each other. Terra sees Zhiyi as a liability."
"I'm not sure where you're going with this," Quatre said, amused yet saddened by Wufei's defeated tone.
"For a long time, I would have agreed with Terra," Wufei said. "To be bound to another was a weakness. But... it's not. It's a strength. I took lives for Khushrenada and hated him, and me. But I would give my life for you, or Meiran, or Zhiyi, because I... "
"Yes." Quatre leaned over, and kissed Meiran on the forehead. She stirred, and then fell back into her drugged sleep. "Did you get anything off Mariemaia?"
"She spoke the truth, or at least as she believes it." Wufei stood up, but didn't move, his eyes closed, his fists clenched. "If she and Zhiyi are in agreement, she believes it follows that people will accept the Foundation rule, seeing the two sides unified... or some such bullshit. People love Zhiyi, and if Zhiyi loves her, then people will love her. It's not very logical. You?"
"Exhaustion," Quatre said. "Despair. Mariemaia's terrified. She's genuinely confused about the fact that the world is at war."
"Does she think people can't tell she's drugged Zhiyi? That girl would never just sit there and smile like that." Wufei shook his head, pulling away when Quatre moved closer. "No. Zhiyi's face is too expressive. That was... "
"We'll find her," Quatre promised. "We've got to take the war to Mariemaia. Put it on her turf."
"Yeah," Wufei replied. "Because another month of this, and we won't have any turf of our own," and his tone was sarcastic. "L4's practically on the edge of self-destructing. L1 is days away from needing rotational adjustment, and without the Foundation's experts, there's little chance of saving the colony. And L3... " He shrugged.
"One thing at a time," Quatre counseled. "Geori has some ideas about L1's situation. There's supposed to be a meeting in thirty minutes."
"Fine." Wufei cast a look over his shoulder at Meiran's face, drawn and pinched even in sleep. He sighed, and led the way from their room.
Week Ten
Heero accepted the water bottle without a word, and Trowa began opening the packages containing the day's rations. Duo clicked across the comm., and Trowa clicked back out of habit. The Gundams were stored for a few hours at a small cove just north of Kapellskar; the local resistance fighters were stealing fuel from the docked ferries and would meet them at midnight.
The night was chilly, the sun had set at three o'clock, quickly bringing the world into a half-darkness that lingered for hours. The wind off the Baltic Sea was relentless, and Heero had to fight to force his mind to set aside the wind's slicing cold against his neck. The flight suit was solid, if a bit rank after four days of fighting. Four days with no break, protecting the inland cities against the two Foundation battleships. Four days with no word from Sanq. Four days of sleeping, fighting, sleeping, fighting.
Trowa made dinner in silence. There were no words; none were needed. But not even any songs, Heero mused, and could think of none that would fit. For ten years he'd fought with Duo, Trowa, Wufei and Quatre; he couldn't conceive of a battle without one of them at his side.
But yet, since he'd left Sanq, he felt adrift. The Foundation had dominated the planet, and assisting in any fight to be free of such tyranny... he felt strongly that was a good thing. Lena's ideals of peace were tempered with realism, and she was nothing like the naïve child he'd known in his own world. This Lena understood the price, and she was willing to pay it.
He had respected Relena's beliefs, strong and unwavering, but he found he loved this Lena, and her willingness to fight in her own beliefs. Somehow, her ideals had become his, and he wasn't sure when that had happened. The problem was that he wasn't sure whether he loved Lena, or what she represented to him. He'd waited ten years for change, and now he was part of that change; it made little difference to him that it wasn't his original world.
He wondered how Lena was, if she was okay, was she getting enough sleep, enough to eat, was she worried about her people, was she having nightmares... he realized Trowa was looking at him strangely.
" ...First watch?"
"Hunh?" Heero looked up, then immediately dropped his eyes. Being with Trowa and Duo, he felt awkward; something had changed between the two of them, between the three of them. He knew it, but didn't want to see it. It felt as though Trowa and Duo had something... maybe not the same 'something' as what he felt for Lena, but just as strong. Maybe stronger.
" ...Watch after all," Trowa said, patiently.
Heero shrugged, not really sure what Trowa had been saying.
"You're fading, Yuy," Trowa replied. "You sleep, and I'll have Duo take first watch. I'll take second, and then we'll strike out again."
"Duration?"
"Two hours each." Trowa handed over the package of instant noodles, and Heero accepted it with a nod. Duo appeared over Trowa's shoulder, stealth-silent in the woods, despite the fall leaves and broken branches. Trowa didn't look up, but handed a package of instant noodles over his shoulder as though intuiting Duo's presence.
"You're exhausted," Duo said to Heero. He chuckled; a cold dry sound like leaves rubbing together. "You're getting that mile long stare."
"No," Heero replied, and thought of the battleships. The mobile suits. The people, running and screaming, as terrified of the Gundams as they were of the enemy. Finland, striking out against Norway and Sweden rather than allying. The nights that lasted until mid-day. The cold, the wind, the unending loneliness.
He wanted to say: I have never felt like I didn't belong. We three were equal. I don't understand.
Heero said none of it, but stared down at his dinner. When he was done eating, he couldn't remember how it tasted. One of his partners - he could no longer tell which - removed the empty bowl from his hand, and the other pushed him down onto the ground. Curling an arm under his head, Heero fell asleep immediately.
End Part 30
(:./sol/tetra30)
