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"Yestermark"Written By: Asymphototropic
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing. Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the
light, but never quite arrives there) Email: asymphototropic@aol.com Rating: NC 17 Warnings: extreme Asyness Summary: Mingling of possibilities occurs at this vortex source. Don't leave home without your Ticket firmly in your fist. Else you may never return. Pairings: 1x2 other GW characters may appear upon progression
"Yestermark " Chapter 9 The view was exquisitely painful. A sprawling confusion of lights, pricking needle probes into his vision. The lights existed as far as he could see in every direction, polluting the night, obscuring the stars, shifting the gleaming black of memory to a dull gunmetal gray. He felt certain that manmade polymer formed a spherical continuum which engulfed the planet. A vast megalopolis, all encompassing his world. Heero shuddered away from what had been wrought, turned from the high window overlook. "There was, is no need for conservation, preservation. You perceive? At that Point on this Line where travel to other distant Points became, becomes practical. There appears no necessity to save the plants and animals here, the grand vistas, the natural beauty. Or the history, for that matter. Because they still exist, are accessible at distant Points. "So they are destroyed, utterly devoured at this Point. How despicable." "One becomes used to it." "I wouldn't." "Possibly not." Professor Gee sighed. "Khushrenada and Merquise may come for a visit." "I would rather see Doctor Jay." "He can't visit you." "Can't or won't?" "He exists at this Point. But he is barred from communicating with you. Because he has the knowledge of your origins. And some desire to inform you of them." "And you don't?" Heero stifled his furious urge to hit something. "I haven't that information, no. Otherwise, I should very much like to enlighten you." The old man frowned sternly. "Perhaps it is just as well. If I had that knowledge, likely the military powers here would prevent me from communicating with you too." As he placed his hand upon the young man's shoulder, Heero's resentment died. "Please." The word was dry in his throat, and he coughed. "Tell me what you can. Explain. Whatever is permitted." "There was an accident. An alien explorer ship that depended upon light-avoidance drive for speed, and time-folding for vast distance travel. The craft encountered an improbable explosion, a driving light event that sent the ship into an uncontrolled vector, drove it into our timespace. The impact at arrival was sufficient to break the ship's timedrive into fragments. But also fragmented its pilot, as well as some innocent bystanders at the collision site. While the Time and Space were united, inanimate and animate pieces were intermingled and scattered to various Points along our Line. Your friend Duo was the pilot of the crashed ship." "And I was one of the bystanders?" "That is my presumption. Jay was the first to find a fragment of the broken timedrive. Being a physicist, not to mention a genius, he was able to analyze its nature, to utilize it to form the Tickets. I was the first of his comrades to become a Ticketeer, long before his Society of Line Travelers had so many members. Very honored I felt, indeed, that he consulted with me on some of the advanced mathematical problems involved in Travel along our Line. And of course, I relished the opportunity to Travel with a Ticket of my own." "I understand you, however vaguely. But why don't I have memories of those early Points on our Line?" "Possibly your cognition is fragmented, similar to your pilot friend's." "I suppose," Heero muttered acknowledgment of the unsatisfactory, partial explanation. "I guess Khushrenada has been using me to find Duo, since our Selves were scattered along similar paths?" Gee chuckled. "That, yes. But also, because you two seem to have a natural affinity for each other." Yuy flushed scarlet, allowing his silence to acknowledge the mathematician's assessment. He looked down at his feet, nestled into the yielding gel floor. "Yuy?" It was a new voice that spoke. Gee seemed to have disappeared into the wall work. Startled, Heero looked up into purple eyes. Electric sparks of recognition and intense joy. "Heero Yuy?" "Yes." "Do you know me?" Know him? Hellfire, what a question! "Yes, I know you." Heero wanted to rush forward and hug Duo, to cling to him desperately. Instead, he schooled his features. "Do you know me?" he returned the question. "Yes." "From your own recollection?" "Recollection?" Maxwell's forehead wrinkled with the effort of intense thought. "I guess this is the most technologically advanced Point on your Line, as you call it, that you have visited. So you consider the other Points as temporally past, huh?" "Yes." "Gods, I'm sorry." Mussing his whiskey hair, the kid rubbed his finger tips over his face, as if provoking better blood flow to the brain. "Your people's insistence on linear perception of Time just confuses the hell out of me. Sorry. I guess, to answer your question, I have no idea how much of this stuff in my poor old overfunked mind is true memory. And how much is conditioning." "Conditioning?" "Well, the local military have had me under them, at least as often as the scientists here, you know? And they don't seem all that bent on giving me the truth. Don't know if the doctors care whether the powers-that-be mess with my mind or not. They've all got this same agenda that mostly involves sending me back to wherever I came from as soon as possible." "Oh." With a sickening sensation, Heero's heart dropped like a rock from a towering cliff side, into a dismal dark chasm. "Well, hey." Duo dug his toe into the soft flooring. "This is kind of strange. But, you know what? I'm supposed to ask you out on a date." "What? A date. Why?" Duo cringed at Heero's tone. "Erm, yar. Totally strange. And um, a bit embarrassing. I'm just guessing that the brass want us to interact, while they spy on us. Surveillance, you see?" "That's bizarre." "Totally." Duo nodded, a blush suffusing his cheeks, unwittingly charming his friend. "So what do you say? Guess the Big Baddies will be watching, no matter what we do. Want to go out and see the sights? Have a good time?" Heero smiled, a small but warm smirk. "Why not?" he shrugged. "That's the spirit." The Kid offered up an entirely memorable grin. xXxXx "Rookies, eh? That's rare for guys your age. Most of the locals here grew up with regular Saturday night high time on Personal Flight Devices. But don't fret. Your credit card covers top of the line equipment and programming. I've set them for a rapid training curve. You both look pretty athletic and coordinated. So probably you'll be self-directed in minutes, I bet. Go ahead. Climb on board." Heero glanced across at his companion. They both were clad in gleaming cultured leather from neck to toes, Duo in solid black, and himself in deeply whorled midnight blue. Their outfits matched the finish on their flight craft, which looked like space aged motorcycles. The attendant continued his instruction. "With your toes, pull up and down on the stirrups to make the PFD climb or drop. Pushing or pulling on the handlebars sends her forward or reverse. Curl your body into a tuck to increase your speed. Grasping with your knees gives you a sudden impulse blast. Sit upright and relax your knees to decelerate. Clenching your teeth and jerking on the inside of your helmet jaw bite gives you abrupt brake energy. Got it?" Heero inhaled deeply, and nodded. He didn't enjoy the prospect of making a fool of himself in public. But Duo laughed like a maniac as he snugged his glittering helmet over his head. "You're in training mode, with buffers fully engaged, and in a fail safe zone. Your PFD programs will override any direction that's life threatening. Nothing can go wrong. So just fling yourselves out there and have a couple of thrills." Thrills. Oh yes, that seemed likely. Heero scarcely had settled himself astride the powerful machine when it launched, straight off the roof top of their skyscraper. Heero shouted, then pulled back on his left handle to turn the flyer away from the neighboring building, which appeared bent upon rendering him as graffiti upon its vast wall. His head passed directly under Duo's flyer. Either the Kid already was damned good at directing his vehicle, or the programming had saved the two of them from a crash. Heero was betting on Duo's piloting skill. Methodically, he trained himself on each of the controls. Stirrups up, down, handlebars forward, then reverse. He clenched his teeth to test the brakes. Seemed like that jaw rigor was something a body naturally did when feeling sudden alarm. Grit your teeth in terror. Maybe that was the point? Heero braced himself mentally, tucked into a low profile, pressed down on his toes and instantly plummeted. His heart pounded with a rush of exhilaration as he rapidly gained speed. Then he directed the flyer into a wild spiral. With a yell of pure delight, Duo trailed hard on Heero's path. Urban summits of glossy polymer, followed by steep avalanche falls toward the planet's mass. Hedonistic cliff dwellers viewed the flyers' passage with mild approval while sipping evening cocktails. The two lost travelers rose and spilled together, tumbling into decadent pleasure. Their abandoned ride abruptly slowed, then came to an eventual stall. "Time expired. Return to base," flashed on the flyers' control screens. "You guys did great," the attendant flashed a perfectly ivory smile at them. "Both of you ripped right into pilot- controlled mode. You sure you weren't pulling my leg about being rookies?" "I'm a pilot. But this is my first time on a PFD," Duo explained somewhat apologetically at the perceived deception. "Oh. Gotcha. Looks like you are scheduled for dinner next door. If you want to fly directly to the restaurant's pad, the PFDs will return to me in drone mode, no problem." "Guess we'll do that," Duo nodded cheerfully. "And maybe you should consider tryouts, after you eat." Heero cocked his head curiously. "They have war games later tonight. Multiple assault teams on PFDs. Mass mayhem, good times. The opposing captains will fill the gaps in their squadrons with fly-ons who pass the trials." "Thanks, but we'll skip that," Duo laughed. Heero nodded his head in grim agreement. His memory jarred over the image of Duo's bloody form, mangled, trembling in his grasp. War games. They definitely would avoid those. Fifty stories above the city streets, the friends cruised their flyers across the inter-edifice chasm, to rest at the glowing restaurant's landing pad. Then, as the boys removed their helmets, they turned to watch the riderless PFDs float obediently back to home base. The entire front of the restaurant was taken up with clothing boutiques. Since neither their previous nor current attire met the strict dress code of the eating establishment, Duo and Heero stopped to buy new outfits, using their seemingly limitless credit card. The attire of the young and beautiful clientele went largely to cultured leather, crystal sequins in sparkling metal settings, and flimsy satin fabrics, confusedly intermixed. Duo grinned as he allowed his gaze to linger all along Heero's new clothes. Yuy stared at his friend's crotch until the other abandoned his pointed admiration with a chortle. Then Yuy grabbed Maxwell's arm possessively. "Food," Duo nudged his shoulder. "You look devourable. Everything else is cream," Heero growled into Duo's jugular flesh, evoking a reflexive quiver. "This way, gentlemen," an older supervisor told them. His stern expression and formal attire were in cold contrast to the frivolous surroundings. They were seated in plush arm chairs overlooking a vast amphitheater with multiple, mobile stages. "Grasp the selector to begin your dinner order proceedings. Get whatever you like in the way of food, drink and entertainment. However, do not allow yourselves to be seduced, since your schedule is already set, with no allowance for lengthy diversions." "Right," Duo chuckled wryly, shaking his head at the old man's retreating form. "Why are they doing this?" Heero's gesture was all-encompassing. "Research, espionage, prurient curiosity. Perhaps a bit of guilt." The Kid shrugged. "The powers that be are monitoring us?" "Count on it, babe. Doctors, scientists, military. The whole damn shebang." "Then why are we cooperating?" "Cause its fun? And we're together." "Hn." "Excuse me, guys." Heero looked up at the young honey who was shimmying her quivering cleavage at the level of his nose. "I'm soliciting." Heero flamed a blush from his scalp to his toes. "Sorry. We're not allowed to partake of anything other than food and beverage." "Not like that," the young woman laughed out loud, caressing her bosom provocatively. "I mean, I'm canvassing. Votes for Hairy Harangue." "Eh?" "The rock group." "Do you mean, for the entertainment?" Duo asked, nodding toward the nearest empty stage. "Sure, prettiness. What planet did you just drop off of, anyway?" she shook her head, meanwhile rubbing as much of her scantily clad body as she could against the Kid. "Traeskavelon. At least I'm pretty sure that's what its called," Maxwell replied, massaging his forehead in a nervous gesture. "Damn, you're serious, aren't you, hotness and light?" The girl lifted the young man bodily out of his seat, dropped into it, and plopped him onto her lap. "Yes." Heero growled at the interloper. Meanwhile, someone else began running fingers through his chocolate hair. "Nice. Have we got a consensus yet?" The tall, athletic youngster commenced stroking Heero's face, meanwhile addressing the girl who was holding Duo. "I was just explaining to these juvvies the nature of life," she retorted, giggling. "We've seen these two on the news, you know. That one's off a different Point. And this one's from another Line, if your feeble imagination can encompass that." She started a mouthy assault on the back of Duo's neck while toying with his braid. Heero snarled. "Not totally tamed, I see," the tall fellow responded, without forgoing his insinuating grope. "We're together," Duo gasped, as the girl's other hand reached his cock. "Make it a foursome," the guy urged, nuzzling his nose into Yuy's mop. "No," Heero snapped abruptly. "But we'll vote for your musical group if you'll stop mauling us." "Sure, sure," the fellow agreed, laughing, raising his palms in surrender. The girl set Duo back in his chair, dusted off his person far more extensively than was warranted, adjusted his clothes, then backed away from him. "Thanks for the votes, comet-tail," she winked, before wriggling into her further solicitation efforts at a neighboring table. Maxwell squirmed, attempting a more comfortable settlement of his involuntary erection. "Guess the old man wasn't kidding about the seduction bit." "Guess not." "Dinner?" The menu selectors, when grasped, illuminated computer screens in the arms of their chairs. They had to choose from hundreds of different cuisines, some of which were familiar, and some which did not register anywhere in their combined memories. Having chosen the type of food, and then highlighted individual selections, they got to pick serving size. They both opted for "bite-sized sample". After an astonishingly brief pause, the actual food item arose on tiny dumbwaiter platforms next to the comp viewers. "Yum." "This is good." "Do you think we're allowed to stick to 'sample sized' indefinitely? It might be fun to try as many different bites as possible, until we run out of stomach room, huh?" "Personally, I have a lot of capacity." "Me too. Let's push the limits." Which they did, to their mutual enjoyment, urging each other to try their favorites, slowly but surely reaching an undeniable surfeit. "Ooof," Duo exclaimed. "Stuffed. How many desserts do you think we've sampled. Dozens?" "Less than hundreds, at least." "Moderation itself," the Kid chortled, licking a trace of whipped cream off his lips. Heero leaned forward to help him with his own tongue. "We're back. But do carry on." "Yeah, don't let us interrupt the action." It was the two vote canvassers again. Breaking away from the torrid kiss, Heero glared up at the returned company. "Either of you play a musical instrument?" the honey asked, already with her arms draped over Duo. "Saxophone," he confessed. "Oooh. Sexy." "No, nothing," Heero retorted acridly. "But he sings a mean Japanese tenor," Duo chuckled at the surprisingly vivid memory. "Great gravy. The band wants you to sit in on a number. You being celebrities, you know?" the fellow's hands were straying onto Heero's torso. "We can't go down there on stage. We're under surveillance," Yuy snapped. "Wicked. But you don't need to travel. They'll catch your sound on remote from right here, sweet bar." "Gods. Why not?" Duo demanded of the distant, caverned ceiling. "Terrific. I'll fetch you a horn," the girl scampered off. "Sing whatever. The band'll catch on to it soon enough," the athletic guy offered. The saxophone, when it arrived at their location, proved to be a weirdity. Duo fingered it askance. A hundred percent polymer construction, and the sound was produced by an embedded computer system. Still, the embrasure, breath control and fingering were similar to the reed instrument of his prior experience. The Kid blew a soft scale, then varied it with a jazz tremolo. The sound seemed to reverberate around the entire coliseum. The crowd went breathlessly silent. Talk about stage fright, Heero reflected. He wondered how many thousand individuals were listening, staring at them. Then he shrugged. In his bizarre memory, he could find many worse occurrences than this one. He hummed the traditional Japanese melody line at Duo, then added the words. The sound welled effortlessly large, picked up by unseen amplifiers. But as his eyes drifted shut, Heero found himself elsewhere. A recollection of busking on a cement sidewalk, with automobiles and street cars zipping past, filled his soul with a sad sort of joy that was reminiscence. Duo smiled gently around the horn's mouth piece, enthusiasm for the music increasing, blowing now for what he was worth, bluesing around Heero's ancient Asian lyrics. Softly, and at a distance, the rock band was strumming along with them. And people all around them were standing, swaying in time with an eerily united emotion. Were they all lost in the same universe then? At the culmination of the tune, the two comrades sank back into their seats, to an impressive accompaniment of echoing applause. Duo set aside the instrument, then pressed his snub nose into his knees and folded his arms over the back of his head. "We're not doing an encore." "Agreed." They allowed the accolades to subside and the Hairy band members recommenced Haranguing. "Would a proposal of intoxication be indulged?" Heero wondered. "Give it a shot," Duo urged him, glancing up, a purple eye sparkling at the welcome suggestion. They took up their selectors, turning to the pub offerings. Mixed drinks included all sorts of alcohols and flavorings, as well as various additives that were intended as relaxants, stimulants, and aphrodisiacs. They decided to stick to ethanol and spices, not feeling any urge for more excitement. Insufficient time and volumes of beverage were consumed before an escort arrived to fetch them. Apparently, utter drunkenness was not on the agenda. The military nature of their accompanying personnel was fairly apparent. However, they were transported to another civilian setting. "Fanciest massage parlor I've ever seen," Duo murmured, eyeing the crystal chandeliers, floor to ceiling mirrors and gaudy velveteen lounge chairs. "We are being indulged in another manner, it would appear," Heero raised an eyebrow at the healthy looking, middle aged proprietress. The Madam? "Boys, name your pleasure," she told them heartily. "A rub down, followed by a workout?" "Sure," Duo shrugged, indicating to his comrade his level of ignorance as to what these activities might entail. They were overtaken by two massive muscle men who looked like refugees from a pro wrestling team. The steroidal hunks were dressed in white uniform trousers and clean white silk wife-beaters. Or guy-beaters as the case might be? Duo and Heero were laid out naked on thick Turkish towel-draped gurneys, where they were administered the extreme rub-down of doom. Massage? As his entire anatomy was pounded, pummeled, and prodded into submission, Yuy felt an extreme physiologic laxity. He wondered whether the oil the goons applied systematically over every millimeter of his skin might be laced with anything of a pharmaceutical nature. Duo opened a groggy eye to stare across the room at him, and grinned goofily. The Kid appeared to be feeling no pain whatsoever. The masseurs helped them to their feet and escorted them to a couple of chairs that appeared to be stolen from a demented dentist's office. Heero and Duo were strapped in, facing each other. The attendants applied computer leads on electrode patches, all over their exposed flesh. Yuy tried to shudder away from the transmitter-receptors, as huge hands applied them to his genitals. Across from him, the same procedure had been completed upon his friend. "No." His muttered refusal scarcely registered with the technicians. The final application was a head set with ear phones and a viewer. The split screen, instantly activated, offered him one picture of Duo, and another of Khushrenada. His peripheral vision still afforded him views of the room. By now, several military people had joined the two attendants. "Yuy, relax. What you are about to experience is the most extreme pleasure our Point on this Line has to offer." Heero snarled at the image of Treize, then turned his attention to the other half of the screen. His view tunneled through to purple, his mind, his whole soul concentrated upon Duo Maxwell. One look at the Kid's eyes told him they were focused upon Heero. He did not know how much more time they would have together. But he knew he would cling to whatever was offered. A touch, if he could have it. A vision for his memory, if that was all that remained. Upon a sigh of exhalation, Heero ceased struggling and submitted to his future. Even if that left him no present or past. ~ * ~
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