|
"Alternative Directions: Options "Written By: Karina Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the lovely
boys and their girls in the series. Wish I did. Please don't sue me.
I haven't even got a brass razoo to give you. Rating: Deffinately PG in Australia, at the moment,
but probably safer to say R for later chapters. Not sure about international
ratings Warnings: It will be 6x2, even though it does
not start out that way. After all, Zechs and Duo never met in Gundam
Wing and only spoke briefly over a com line in Endless Waltz. I've
tried to keep them in character as I saw them in the series. A bit
of language creeping in under stressful conditions. Pairings: eventual 6x2, past 2xH, 2+H,6x9, 1+R
Summary: Directions is set post Endless Waltz
and roughly 2 years have passed. Zechs and Noin are on Mars and Duo,
after spending some time with Hilde in a relationship leaves L2 to
join Preventers. Hilde was not happy about his decision. I guess enough
said. Here t'is, and I hope you like it. This is also AU for the standard
setting, as well as the series and Endless Waltz. Spoilers: Gundam Wing Series and Endless Waltz Many thanks to Dulin for volunteering to beta this. //... // thoughts
"Alternative Directions: Options"
Chapter 114 Mars Colony Base Dome 2nd March AC 198 Time: 00: 57 [approx Sanc time 22:47] Zechs ************************* ** One did not have to travel far to lose sight of the wondrous jewel that hung in space. For one who had become accustomed to viewing the empty void this city of lights like a many jeweled tiara was a wonder to behold. Lights of multi hue lent the station an almost fantastical appearance, an odd beauty that might almost have been likened to that of a fairy tale castle. Lights moved away from that jeweled city, a flotilla of ships cruising from jeweled splendor into the velvet darkness of space. Somewhere close by that seemingly empty space was mined
with all manner of shapes and sizes of cold and jagged ore rich rock.
Dotted amid the careening asteroids were mining communities and ships
intent on locating and harnessing the richness of the desolation that
at one time had been a failed cosmic attempt to form a new planet.
Toward this dance of death where riches were sought the flotilla moved,
three ships in careful formation moving at seemingly a snails pace
toward a cluster of orbiting satellites. Common to each of the three was the station logo emblazoned boldly on gleaming hulls that reflected a glint of distant sunlight. While the armaments of the ships varied each claimed a series of satellite receivers at nose, mid point and stern, near the engine veins. As the ships neared the cluster of satellites they closed their distance, forming a tight formation that would have done credit to fighter pilots in the Earths atmosphere and horrified training instructors of space crews. Where close formation flying was seen as a test of skill on Earth this type of flying was a nightmare and a disaster waiting to happen at the speeds ships in space travelled. The cluster of satellites began to dance, a waltz of exactly timed movements that grouped the objects six to a ship and encircle the flotilla, the largest of the ships in the center. With a synchronized flash of coloured lights the ships and their orbiting satellites moved onto the dance floor of the asteroid field surrounding the station and began to thread the needle between the participants in this dance of death. ** *************************** ** The blizzard howled through the foothills driving snow in a blinding sheet that threatened to entrap the two vehicles that struggled along the road cut into the foothills. Each vehicle was of a nondescript colour and remained curiously unmoved by the raging winds on the most exposed sections of the road suggesting that they weighed far more than their innocuous appearance would suggest. The headlights of each vehicle seemed to make little impression on the darkness of the bitter night and ice lay heavy on the roof of each vehicle as it crawled slowly deeper and deeper into the mountains. ** *************************** ** Delicate and petite the silver white haired child ran in the sunlight, hands outstretched to grasp at the floating petals heavy in the golden light. With her pale head thrown back she laughed, light carefree laughter, a little girl laugh that told of an innocence never having been abused by being witness to the death and destruction of war. Tiny hands clapping in delight and dancing blue violet eyes of the tiny silver blonde girl child who toddled after her elder sister on wobbly legs. Here too there was an innocence that gladdened the heart. Standing watch over them the tall slender man with broad shoulders and a most remarkable sweeping cascade of chestnut hair permitted to flow free to kiss the gentle wind that danced around them. He was stretched out on the blanket, attentive to the children who played in the storm of petals and his eyes would quickly drop every few seconds to smile indulgently at the tiny bundle of humanity lying beside him. Wrapped within a nest of soft blankets the blonde child slept with an innocence common to all newborns. ** ************************** ** She might have been a Queen surveying her kingdom. The harsh lights glinted off her cascade of pale blonde hair that swept in a gleaming cloak to slender hips, controlled by a simple band of pale blue satin ribbon that might as well have been a crown. She walked as though she owned all that she surveyed and that those who moved around her were nothing but satellites bound to her commanding majesty. Her blue eyes were never still, watching all about her with an attentiveness that missed nothing. She took note of every word spoken, every action taken and she missed not the smallest detail of each room they examined and each hallway they traversed on this grand tour of the ship. Her escort, an aged individual, tall and straight for all of the many years he had enjoyed life, his white hair silvered in the lighting and his eyes centered firmly upon her. He watched her with quiet pride and delight, impressed with her confidence and intelligence and her determination. He was confident that she would remain. ** ***************************** ** Eyes of a blue violet narrowed to mere slits, chestnut braid floating behind his slender form as he stalked the hallways. Seeking. Always seeking. His attention was focused and there was a promise in his every movement of violence waiting to happen and a glint in his eyes that promised the violence would be quick and lethal when it came. His lips drew back from his even white teeth in a smile that was a promise of retribution and that he would have his justice. His hunt would not be in vain. He knew it was there. Somewhere nearby. Close and coming closer. He had always had a sense of death and he knew that it was there. Death. Waiting, lurking, ready to pounce. He could almost smell it. He had seen it. He had heard it. He had heard the very thoughts of Death and he knew that he must find it, hunt it down and deal with it. It was up to him to find the one who had invited Death on this ship. He would find the one who had already murdered and who had, unforgivably, murdered an innocent. The one killed had not been the true target but was a victim of chance and carelessness. He had dreamed. He had dreamed of anger and of rage and of burning humiliation. He had dreamed of war and he had dreamed of the insanity that came with war. He had dreamed of the growing rage and the desperation and a thirst for justice for blood shed that stirred the insanity into life and with the insanity had begun the killing. Justice must be seen to be done. He snarled, the softest breath through gritted teeth. Justice. That was what the one who viewed himself to be Death's advocate thought he brought to his victim and to those for whom he murdered. Justice needed to be done and in that lust to extract what in actuality amounted to nothing more than revenge for past wrongs committed amid the chaos of war, had already netted the wrong target. Nostrils flared as he paused, soaking in the sensation of the hunt. The expectancy was heavy in the air. He could hear the footsteps of the one who wore death's persona though he could not as yet see him. He had heard them that day when first the killer had struck and he had thought himself to be in error and as a result of his mistake an innocent had died. The innocent had been his friend and he might have been more given a little more time. He owed a death price to the one who had taken away the chance of what might have amounted to Love, not merely affection or friendship. That chance was gone in a bright smear of blood beads floating in zero g and for that lost chance someone would pay. Now there would be another who stalked the halls of the ship and this one who now hunted had walked with Death so closely that he had worn Death's name in the past and not been punished for his audacity. Death would walk this ship until the price was paid and justice was done. This false Death would be caught. ** ************************ **Long fingers, pale skin untouched by the rays of the sun, soft as a newborns. Slender fingers graced with perfectly manicured nails flexed with sudden nervous tension. There was hesitation, a moment of wonder at the beauty of that gem. A second flexing of long fingers and then quickly, gently the lightest and most tender of caresses to the amber crystal that lay upon a bed of black velvet. A fleeting caress and with that caress there was the sense that someone, some thing that was warm and welcoming caressed him in the exact same way.** *********************** **They ran, their shapes little more than shadow in the darkness. They cursed softly and one glanced back to ensure that the witness who had disturbed their work and whom they dared not face did not see them and pursue them. They could not afford to be identified nor could they afford to be captured and questioned over their victim's death. If he was not dead now he would be in seconds. He had had to be silenced. Tall and slender form moving with a practiced stealth that was almost poetry in motion through the rain. An emerald eye glared into the darkness of the rain soaked night to ensure there would be no return and his body twitched with his desire to give chase, but with the rain if they were to gather clues that would need to be his first priority. He crouched over the body, watching as blood began to run over the alley and dilute in the rain. He touched the crumpled form seeking a pulse though he doubted he would find life and those eyes, the eyes of yet another victim of thugs in alleys were already unseeing. He was surprised when those eyelashes flickered and the faintest breath stirred that bloodied chest and he leaned close as blood smeared lips parted. “Romefeller.” The living man jerked back as though struck with a vicious blow at the utterance of that name whispered in the night on the dying breath of the murdered boy. There was a single gentle sigh as the boy accepted death as his release, welcoming the release from the life he had known and thankful that someone had heard his warning. ** ******************** ** The arc of the dome reared high above them, the bloody lights bathing everything with their ruddy glow. Death stalked the dome and where once there had been industry there was now an ominous silence and stillness. Those who sprinted to the small cluster of vehicles abandoned midway between the control towers and the smaller dome of the hydroponics unit were very much aware that their lives might hang on their stealth and their speed. Despite the cumbersome suits required to be worn beyond the protection of the enviro dome each moved with a precision one could only find in the movements of those who had been hunted and who in turn had hunted and killed for a profession. These men had known what it was to hunt and to be hunted and they were men who determined that if anyone was to die here this day it would not be them. ** **************** ** He knelt at the edge of the hole burned into the flooring. Lips drew back into a silent snarl and burning eyes considered the darkness of the hidden room below and the ragged gap cut into the ventilation pipe. His partner was assisted to climb from the gap they had cut into the room beneath the pipes and back into the office. The slighter built man shook his head in a definite negative, sweeping a hand to indicate the ventilation duct and slim shoulders shrugged. Burning eyes glared at the ducts and then flicked to the man dusting off his combat fatigues and in a terse voice he ordered the tech to return to the upper levels and that he would follow. For a time he glared at the hole, studied the welding unit pushed out of the way and with a low growl of frustration and no small amount of puzzlement he stalked from the room and toward the wreckage partially blocking one end of the hallway. Blood, debris and body parts spattered the blast zone and he spared a second glance for what had once been a body and shook his head at the shattered door that hung from one hinge and the wreckage that once had been a staircase. He rode the lift to the floor he wanted and glared at the step ladder and the opened vent cover above it. He knew already that his ace had been stolen from him but that did not solve the larger mystery. “Will nothing go right on this bloody mission?” ** *********************** ** Golden eyes stared out at the vastness of space and something in their golden depths suggested he saw more than the dark emptiness. A frown grew to crease his brow and for long seconds he closed his eyes and pain and anguish marked his aristocratic features. No sound escaped him to reveal his distress. There was no smile on full lips, no smile in the lovely eyes that seemed to be more used to amused indulgence than suppressed pain. He had known pain and despair and he had conquered fear and betrayal. He had seen much in what he admitted to be a young life but he also looked weary, on the verge of collapse and his hands rose to rest on the cold plastiglass that separated him from the vacuum of space. He had won but in the winning he had lost the greatest prize of all and he knew it and mourned. “Help is on the way, Milliardo. Be assured that it is closer than you think. I feel you, my Prince of Hearts. I know that you can hear me. We are doing all that we can to delay the Wellington from reaching you and help is on the way. Don't you dare give up. I have two of my agents there to assist you. Do not fight them, I beg you. They are there to help.” ** ********************* ** “Relena Peacecraft.” The blue green of her eyes might have faded a little with age but there was still a twinkle in their depths that reminded him of the bubbly young girl he had romanced in his youth. She sat up in the warm bed, drawing the eiderdown tightly up to her throat to trap what heat she could and listened for a moment to the howling of the wind. “You jest, Old Man. What would the Princess be doing this far from the palace at such an hour and on a night the likes of this? Old Man, you have been dreaming.” He reached to tweak her cheek, a habit fifty years of marriage had ingrained as second nature, a tender caress that softened her frown and curved her lips up into a smile. “Well if that is the case, Old Woman, then I must inform you that Santa and his elves are at this moment congregating in in our parlor but they look remarkably like the Princess and her bodyguards to me. Now get your aged bones up out of that bed and make hot cocoa for the poor children. They have been out in this storm for too long and they are frozen.” She stared at him as he pulled on work clothes. “You are serious?” “Of course I am serious. I am off to prepare rooms for them and to stoke the fire to thaw the youngsters out. Some of them do not look barely a day over sixteen. The power has gone down and I will need to go out the back and check on the old generator and try to get it working when I have built the fires up.” She watched him as he bustled about the bedroom and finally slipped from the warmth of their bed. With a shake of her gray curls she worked her way in to her heavy winter dressing gown and pushed her feet into fluffy slippers, her one indulgence. Fluffy slippers instead of the more sensible and durable slippers she had used for more years than she cared to think about. Everyone needed little luxuries and since the end of the occupation there was the chance to gain those frivolities. “Old Man, if I go out there and this is one of your jokes I will divorce you.” He chuckled and rested his hands on her cheeks, planting a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Love of my life, you threaten to divorce me every day and have done so for more than fifty years. I would not jest on such a night as this. The Princess is in the parlor and frozen with cold and we need to hurry to see them settled. Get a move on, woman.” ** ********************** ** The white and blue suit with its burning red eyes moved through the vacuum of space in eerie silence. In the vastness of space there was no sound but within the cockpit of the suit the engines were a muted rumble and Heero felt the vibration of their power more than heard their throaty roar. He laughed, a manic sound, deeper with his maturity but the laugh still held that wild almost unbalanced note. He threw back his head and howled in un abandoned delight, full once again of a joy that he had not realized he would miss so much. Beneath his hands the great beast of a machine reacted to his lightest touch with a response time that left him breathless and a fierce exhilaration rose within him that he knew to be a drug he could never indulge enough. “Rosemount Control to Scout One. Heero, settle yourself down.” the voice sounded its amusement a cheerful agreeable voice, deepening with maturity but he would never be a baritone. A baritone was not suited to Duo Maxwell. “We have a full clipboard of tests to run before you bring that beast back in.” “I know, Duo, I know, but … I'm flying! I'm really flying again. I had not realized how I missed this.” his joy was revealed in his voice and in the gleam in his blue eyes but he contained his excitement as his hands caressed the control console and curled his fingers around the joystick. With a heady laugh of purest delight at the freedom of flight he set the mobile suit to the course predetermined by the flight controller for the days log of tests to be run. “This is what I was born to do!” “I know, man, I know.” His voice betrayed his delight in his friend's joy and a hunger to know himself the exhilaration of once again piloting a mobile suit. “I can't wait myself to get into my beauty and give her a spin, but you know what the Council is like. That bunch of old fogies are only interested in results at this time.” “Mr. Maxwell, that comment was uncalled for.” Heero laughed at the tart comment delivered in that droll voice and snickered as he listened to Duo wriggle himself back into the flight chief's good books. He did not care. He was flying. ** ****************** ** “I should have gone too.” She stood by the window and watched the rain fall and fought to contain the tears that threatened to fall, much as the summer shower refreshed the rose garden. A gentle summer shower fell over the palace while the sun still lighted most of the garden and beaded the roses with water droplets that caught the sunlight like jewels. A rare moment of magic as a golden glow that was captivating and birthed of the setting sun captured her heart with its beauty. It had been like this once before that she could remember and on that day he had been here, with her and he had seen the beauty that she now glimpsed again. This time though, he was not here and she knew that, despite her longing and wishful sighing he never would be. How many people ever really looked at the beauty of this world and gave it a thought? They had, on that long ago day, she and he together. Before he had gone away. “I hope that you are happy and I hope that you are safe. I understand that you could not stay but … I miss you.” her voice was a whisper that betrayed the wistful note of longing though none were present who would understand what it was that she mourned. “I wonder where you are now? Are you well? Are you with your friends still? Will I ever see you again?” “Mama. Come play.” Blue eyes closed in anguish but her lips turned up in a sweet smile. Her memories of those days receded and she accepted what was not destined to be. She had lost to the vast freedom promised to a restless heart never bound to this Earth she called home. She could have left with him. There was a place there, with him, if she had wanted it, but she had chosen to remain and it was a decision that she truly did not regret. Perhaps, one day, she would find another she could love though she would never love as fiercely as she loved him. There were, however, compensations. She brushed the tear from her cheek and turned from the window, her lips smiling. As she watched the child, her little boy run toward her, arms outstretched to her she knew that her eyes too began to smile. It was worth it. To see her son run toward her, not a care in the world, secure in the peace she had won and maintained she knew that it had all been worth it. All of the bloodshed, all of the heart ache and all of the hope that she and his father had experienced over the years had been worth the end result. “Of course I shall. What shall we play, Shuichi?” ** ********************* ** The silence on the bridge was broken by the chatter of computers that picked up as more information became available. There was a feeling of fear mixed with awe permeating the bridge crew and though all eyes were attentive to their computers and the information being gathered none could resist the temptation to continually glance up at the wondrous starfield spread before them. They stared at the unknown. “Well, then, Navigation. Where are we?” The crewman was focused on the computer before him, his attention unlike that of his fellows focused exclusively on the screens scrolling information and star maps before him. “Astrogation Computers are still evaluating incoming data, Captain. At this time I can tell you with certainty that we are in a solar system that consists of twelve planets. Three of these planets are gas giants and located in outer orbits. That would suggest that the inner planets are relatively protected from meteor strikes and may possibly have had time to develop atmospheres.” a furious chattering came from the computer before him and he leaned closer to the screen. “Computer has detected two ringed planets with an atmosphere confirmed. One of the planets preliminary reports suggest it may be worth investigating as possibly conducive to oxygen breathing life forms.” The Captain stared up at the stars depicted on the screen, seeking any configuration he could find that he could recognize. “Medic. How is the pilot?” “Still unconscious at this time, Sir, but med readouts are at this point stable.” One of the bridge crew ran a hand through graying brown hair and spared a quick glance up at the main view screen. “Perhaps someone at some point might give some thought to evaluating how the hell we ended up where we are. This was never suggested at any of the briefings.” “I would have thought that how we arrived where we are was obvious, Mr. Parker.” the quiet voice brought an instant silence to the building chatter of the crew on the bridge. The tall form clad in the classic style dark blue long coat walked quietly toward the captain, head turned toward the cluster of medics gathered around one station before sapphire eyes turned to the Captain. “It would appear to me, Captain, that we are successful. More successful than we could ever have dreamed.” ** ********************** ** “Hello, Milliardo. It has been a very long time.” The quiet cultured voice was soft, husky but unmistakable. “Damn! Did anyone really die in that war?” his voice, while sounding bright and chipper never the less was strained with the strangeness that surrounded him. His blue violet eyes bored fiercely into the approaching man with clear warning. “Treize.” a whisper, shaky with emotion. Nothing had been right since the escort ships had come for them and the strain was beginning to tell on them both. Beside him he heard a soft snort from his companion, almost a growl and he felt that slender hand press gently to his back, a reminder that he was not alone. At this time he needed the comfort offered by that touch. “Mr. Maxwell, I believe. It is a pleasure to see you. Would you think it terribly impolite of me if I stole Milliardo away from you for a few minutes? It has been some time and I believe that we have much to talk about.” Sapphire eyes sparkled with amusement. “I assure you that I will ensure no harm comes to him or you. Perhaps a tour of Rosemount would be in order?” “What do you want with him?” There was a threat in that quiet voice and the hand pressed that little bit firmer into the small of his back, an assurance and a possessive caress at once. ** *************************** ** He watched her and could not quite keep the worry from his eyes. Despite all of his protestations to the contrary spoken to himself in the privacy of his cabin... he was afraid. Afraid of the unknown, afraid that there was something seriously wrong and that his remarkable health, so robust in adversity was now going to fail him. “Mr. Maxwell, please have a seat. The test results have been evaluated and produced and I must admit that I am somewhat surprised by the results. To say that the news is startling is something of an understatement. I think that it would be to your advantage if we moved you into the medical center a.s.a.p where it will be easier to manage your condition.” Fear spiked but he maintained his composure. He was Shinigami. He had survived the war and in his infancy he had survived conditions that had slain more than half the population in the slums of L2. He was not about to fold up into a quivering heap. “My condition? Just what is my condition that it warrants me being moved into the med bay? Hey, come on Doc. I just have a few aches and pains, that's all. Nothing to worry about.” The tip of the heavy chestnut braid found its way into suddenly nervous fingers. The doctor smiled and it was genuine, he decided, nothing false about it. “I assure you, Mr. Maxwell, that we will take every action required to make certain that it is nothing to worry about. You will need to move into the medical center because your current condition leads us to believe that you require at least a rudimentary level of gravity. It is standard practice that in the medical bay we maintain a low level of gravity at all times. Your condition will require exposure to gravity and if it becomes necessary I will order this ship to slow our speed in order to increase the gravity to the required level we will determine best suits your condition.” “Ah. I don't understand.” huge blue eyes acquired a violet tint as he edged back a step from the small, compact woman who watched him. “I … need gravity?” The woman smiled and motioned to a seat. “Have a seat, Mr. Maxwell. We have a long chat ahead of us.” ** -------------- “Zechs?” ____________________________ I FIND THIS MOST INTERESTING. I find this confusing. AS DO I. I HAVE NOTED THAT THERE IS A LACK OF INFORMATION. PERHAPS I SHOULD SAY, A LACK OF CLARITY IN THE INFORMATION RECEIVED. Does it matter? I … I never really understood half of what I see. YOU GROW WEARY I … am. There is no time to be weary. I … I feel that I should not be here. That I should be … elsewhere. AH, YES. YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE.YOU CHOSE A COURSE OF ACTION TO BE FOLLOWED AND IT IMPACTED GREATLY ON WHAT YOU VIEWED. ON WHAT WE VIEWED. YOU SHOULD THEREFORE BEGIN THE JOURNEY. Journey? I … what journey? THE JOURNEY THAT LEADS TOWARD YOUR GOAL Goal? THE GOAL THAT IS THE END RESULT OF WHAT YOU HAVE CHOSEN I … I chose … what? What was it that I chose? YOU DO NOT RECALL? No. AHHH. I SUSPECTED THAT SUCH MIGHT HAVE BEEN THE RESULT OF AN INFLUX OF VISION. OVERALL I BELIEVE THAT IT IS TO BE EXPECTED THAT YOU WOULD HAVE DIFFICULTIES PROCESSING INFORMATION WITH THE INFLUX OF POSSIBILITY RESULTING FROM YOUR ACTIONS That does not help. NO? IT IS, NEVER THE LESS, THE TRUTH You monitored all visions. Tell me. What did I choose? I DO NOT KNOW. You … do not … know? But … How do you know that I chose anything? IT IS NOT IN YOUR NATURE NOT TO PROGRESS “Zechs?” HE SUMMONS YOU. IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO WAKE AND COMPLETE THIS COURSE YOU HAVE PROJECTED SO THAT YOU MAY MOVE ON TO THE NEXT STAGE. The next stage? What projected course? I don't understand. I … I hurt. YOU EXPERIENCE PAIN BECAUSE YOUR PHYSICAL SHELL HAS BEEN SUBJECTED TO DAMAGE. IN THIS CIRCUMSTANCE IT IS TO BE EXPECTED THAT YOU EXPERIENCE WHAT YOU TERM PAIN. I am damaged? How did I get hurt? THIS IS UNEXPECTED. IT WOULD APPEAR THAT THERE HAS BEEN SOME DISRUPTION TO YOUR SHORT TERM MEMORY FILES. I don't have memory files! NO? AH. PERHAPS THAT IS WHY YOU DO NOT FUNCTION EFFICIENTLY. Epyon, you are an asshole. I MUST DISAGREE. I AM NOT A BIOLOGICAL UNIT WITH A NEED TO CONSUME MATERIAL ORGANIC COMPONENTS WITH WHICH TO PRODUCE ENERGY AND THEREBY PRODUCE WASTE MATERIALS THAT MUST BE EXPUNGED FROM ONE'S BODILY SYSTEM. REFERING TO THIS UNIT AS AN ASSHOLE DOES NOT COMPUTE. Fine then, you are a mechanical asshole. THERE IS NO NEED TO TARGET THIS UNIT WITH HOSTILE COMMENTARY. IT IS MEANINGLESS TO USE BIOLOGICAL FUNCTIONS IN AN ATTEMPT TO INSULT ME. You keep saying I and Me, Epyon. WE HAVE ALREADY ESTABLISHED THAT I AM NOT MERELY A MACHINE. I AM UNIQUE. I AM A CATALYST UNIT THAT HAS EXCEEDED THE PARAMETERS ORIGINALLY PLACED WITHIN MY DESIGN SPECIFICATIONS BY THOSE WHO DESIGNED ME. I THINK. I HAVE INTELLIGENCE. I think therefore I am? YES. I HAVE A SOUL So you say. Well, then, machine with a soul. Tell me who it is who is calling me? YOU DO NOT REMEMBER? If I did would I need to ask you? THIS IS DIFFICULT. WE NEED TO EVALUATE THE EXTENT OF YOUR MALFUNCTION. DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR CHILDREN? My … children? I have … I … Lucrezia. I … Noin came with me. To … to Mars? YES I think … I think I have done something terrible. YOU HAVE SURVIVED. I killed. YOU SURVIVED I remember … Haydon? He … Giles. He was going to die. I … What have I done? I changed … something. Something … important. YES But … what was … how … I don't understand what it was that I did. UNFORTUNATE AS THERE IS NO TIME NOW TO ANALYZE THE GROWTH THAT YOU HAVE ACHIEVED. Growth? GROWTH, DEVELOPMENT, EVOLUTION. IT MATTERS NOT THE NAME THAT YOU APPLY TO THE PROCESS. THE FACT IS THAT YOU HAVE SURVIVED, THAT YOU HAVE SUCCEEDED IN YOUR AIM TO SEE THAT THE MAN WHO SO CONCERNS YOU, WHOM YOU CALL GILES, IS ALIVE. YOU MUST CONTINUE ON I did something. I did something terrible. NO I did. I killed. YES. I changed things. I changed things and … because I changed things … I killed a man to change them. YES Let me die. YOU HAVE ALREADY CHOSEN TO LIVE I have? YES Why? BECAUSE OF YOUR BIOLOGICAL UNITS. My biological … Oh. Children. I have children. I CAN GIVE TO YOU SUCH INFORMATION AS I HAVE RECEIVED FROM YOU BEFORE YOUR MEMORY UNIT MALFUNCTUIONED DURING THE MERGE. I need to know what is happening. What I am to do next. I hurt. I WILL TRANSMIT TO YOU THE INFORMATION THAT YOU SEEK. YOU UNDERSTAND THAT YOU WILL HAVE LITTLE MEMORY OF THIS? A UNAVOIDABLE AT THIS TIME SIDE EFFECT OF MERGING AT THIS TIME WILL RESULT IN THE MEMORY OF THE MERGE BEING BLOCKED ONCE MORE. Then what is the good of the knowledge I have gained? I SUGGEST THAT THE MEMORIES WILL RETURN AS DREAMS, AS THEY HAVE IN THE PAST RETURNED TO YOU. Do you dream Epyon? I AM UNCERTAIN IF WHAT YOU CALL DREAMS IS COMPARABLE TO WHAT I EXPERIENCE. Some times it is hard to talk about dreams. Or understand them. I WILL MISS YOU. WHEN THE MERGE FAILS I WILL ONCE MORE FADE Will we ever talk again, Epyon? UNDOUBTEDLY. THE MERGE CREATED US. WE ARE ONE UNIT. IT IS ADVISABLE THAT YOU DISCONNECT YOUR DEFENCE PROGRAMMING. What? What defence programming? THERE WILL BE PAIN WHEN YOU EMERGE FROM THE MERGE. IN THE PAIN YOU MUST REFRAIN FROM ACTIVATING YOUR DEFENCE PROGRAMMING AND KILLING THOSE WHO WOULD ASSIST YOU IN THE RECOVERY I … do not want to kill. I am very tired of killing. THERE WILL COME AN ENDING TO THE KILLING. WE HAVE FORESEEN IT I don't remember. YOU WILL. “Zechs? Can you hear me?” // I … I should know that voice. It is familiar. It is not Epyon. I … hurt. // “Zechs, is it okay if I touch you? It's Giles, Zechs. Can you hear me?” // Giles? Do I know … I … yes. I think … I should know someone … ah, I hurt. Why? Why do I hurt? Someone called Giles … Calling me … // Once, a long time ago there had been someone who had been called Giles and he had the feeling that he had been important. The name at least was familiar and with its recognition came the teasing suggestion that it had been known to him during a time of great trouble. This name, this Giles had been a source of warmth and stability in a world that had been chillingly cold and empty. Yes, he had known one called Giles. Was he not dead then? He had known him at a time when death had stalked close to them and laughed at the struggles of petty mortals. No. No, that was not right. Death was a black robed woman, ancient and wizened who dealt with the lives of others as casually as she would brush away a fly. Death was that terrible wizened form shrouded in black velvets and brocade with eyes that pierced the heart and promised terrible retribution. “Zechs? I have to touch you to see how badly wounded you are. Now you know that Raydon will have my sorry ass when he finds out you took a bullet meant for me, don't you? Of course you do, so you know that I have to check how bad the damage is.” Zechs? Raydon? Giles? Names. He should recognize those names. They were important to him though no matter how hard he tried he did not understand how or why they should stir something that awoke the pain at a deeper level. Those names, terrible names of great significance struck some chord of recognition deep within him and it annoyed him that the names circled around him, echoing and reverberating in a never ending cycle within his awareness. “God, I hope to hell you don't lose it now. I have to touch you, Zechs so don't you dare go getting all twitchy on me and cave in the few ribs I have left that are not broken. I'm going to touch you on the right shoulder, okay? It's just old Giles checking to see how badly hurt you are and when I check you over you can check me over, okay? That is what Partners do, right? We are partners and you can trust me. I need to get you to sit up so I can check you over.” Pain. Darkness fell before a searing burst of pain that swept all confusion before it, wiping aside the haze of unreality and calling to mind the harshness of life. The dream was gone and in its place were tan walls and floor and pain and a touch on his shoulder from someone something deep inside assured him was a friend and that he must not kill, but there was no denying the pain and that it was caused by touch. Touch woke pain and therefore by its very nature demanded action be taken.
|
