SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING

SAINAN NO KEKKA
ACT VII, PART III

 
 
Scene VIII: The Battle to the Strong

 
Noin was dead.

And she, Dorothy Catalonia, might as well have killed her herself. It was her fault.

Her fault..

She hadn't bothered to gather her belongings- she had nothing irreplaceable, and she didn't want anything to remind her of her time on A007. She wanted, more then anything, to wipe the memory from her mind, clean the dust of the God forsaken place off her boots, and forget that she had ever heard the names Milliard Peacecraft and Lucrezia Noin.

She had handed over her codes to Etille as soon as they arrived back, effectively surrendering her command to him. He hadn't been happy about that, had even accused her of cowardice. Dorothy tilted her head back to look up at him. Her knotted hair was thick with sweat and tied back into a ponytail that was coming apart, just like she was. Her eyes had taken on a gray hue, and he rather thought they looked like silver daggers, ready to cut him to the quick.

"Say nothing," she said harshly, ready to lash out at anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby and provide her with the least excuse to let some steam off. She was angry at the world, and hurt, and full of recriminations that she couldn't escape. Noin was dead... and it was her fault. Dorothy had always believed in honesty, and now that was coming back to haunt her.

She started to walk away from Etille, but the firm clasp of a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Dorothy..."

She turned, looking into the eyes of the man who would have been her uncle, had the world been a perfect place. "Don't say it," she snapped harshly, moving away from his callused hand. "I screwed up, I know it. I don't need lectures from anyone else. I can give them to myself, thank you. I should have listened to orders, not let my damn pride take control. If I had, then Noin would still be alive, Milliard wouldn't have gone nuts and practically killed himself, and we'd still have commanding officers."

"Dorothy, you can't just leave when things get tough. The soldiers need you- Peacecraft has been wounded, Noin is dead, and you're the only officer left."

She gave him credit for bravery, if not intelligence. It was not many who would dare confront her when she was upset, but then Etille seemed to feel that he had a special hold over her. Maybe it was because he had been her aunt's beloved, maybe it was because of his age, or maybe it was because he had been the one to help Noin escape while she had been the one who had gotten Noin killed, but she was about to prove him wrong if it killed her. No one held any power over her any longer. Not with her grandfather dead, and Milliard denying her.

She refused to love him any longer. She was going to cut him out of her mind, out of her heart, out of her life. Love was for the weak, a tender emotion that warriors could not afford.

"They don't need me! Discipline will fall apart if I take command!" she exclaimed. Don't make me stay.... a small part of her mind whispered. Don't ask that of me- haven't I already given enough, made myself into someone I don't like and can't respect- a weak woman, fighting for love and pride instead of her beliefs?

"Will it? They didn't know Noin. She was here for all of five days, while you were here for weeks."

"Noin was a legend."

"And you earned their respect. You're a good soldier, and it shows," Etille returned quietly. "They're professionals, Dorothy. They'll follow orders."

Dorothy scowled angrily, feeling her usual temper rise. "I don't like soldiers who merely follow orders! They're no better then mercenaries! When there is a fight, they should fight with their heart! I want warriors, not mere soldiers, and having me here will demoralize them! It's best for me to leave!"

"Best for who, Dorothy?"

"Everyone!" she yelled, clenching her fists to her side, barely refraining from hitting him. All her instincts told her to strike, and strike hard, at the man who was torturing her so.

The man who was laying her weaknesses bare.

"Will you throw away everything you've worked for over a matter of self-pity? Alicia would be shamed if she knew that her family line had fallen into such a state."

She couldn't control it any longer, the anger and pain. Her hand swung out without a thought, prepared to deliver a stinging slap.

With reflexes that surprised her, Etille caught her wrist, throwing her off-balance. She stumbled forward, trying to regain her equilibrium as she made an attempt to jerk away from the older man. He was having none of it, though, and held on tight in a grip she, with all her training, didn't recognize. Had she continued to struggle, the hold would have caused her to break her own wrist. "Perhaps you should go. A leader cannot be ruled by self-pity. A leader cannot let herself break down when things get difficult. Perhaps you were never a leader, Dorothy. I would have thought a Catalonia made of sterner stuff."

She wanted deny him again, but the fight had gone out of her. "Just leave me alone, you relic," she whispered. "Don't you remember what it's like to hurt?" she said. "Or are you merely a puppet, a man who fights because he knows nothing else?"

Her words seemed to have no effect; if anything, his face grew impassive instead of impassioned. "I am no puppet, Dorothy. I fight because that's what I am- a soldier. I don't hold with your high ideals, or believe in valor. War is my business, and I may be little better then a mercenary. War is my stock in trade, all I know- all I will ever know. I'll leave the speeches and causes for someone else- I'm the weapon they wield."

She looked almost pitiful, a bedraggled wretch of a girl who had taken place of the fiery lady that she had been. "How could my aunt love someone like you?" she demanded.

"We were young. I believed in justice and truth, then, before I learned that though the causes change, the battle remains the same. All there is to believe in is duty." He relaxed his grip, and she took her hand back.

Even though she was tempted to rub it to restore circulation, Dorothy refused to give him the satisfaction. Dermand Etille somehow had the ability to cut through her defenses, and she hated that, hated being weak. He had seen her cry, only a few nights before. "It seems I am not the only one lying to myself," she said back to him.

She could hear her grandfather's voice in her ear, whispering. When cornered, remember that the best defense is a good offense. Come out fighting, and even if they bring you down, you'll have the satisfaction of taking them with you.

Duke Dermail had believed in revenge.

He looked at her, his graying brown hair and tired eyes showing every one of his years, and showing that his life had been hard-fought. He was not a worthy opponent. She would destroy him for ever making her question herself; destroy him for even having the nerve to question her. She was Dorothy Catalonia, Mistress of the Mobile Dolls, and he was a mere Lieutenant Commander, a man who had never risen in rank.

He rose to the bait, a perturbed expression on his face. "I do not lie, Dorothy."

"Do you? When you lost your warrior's pride?"

He looked at her, thoughtfully, and then began to recite:

"To be, or not to be; that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?"

She blinked, unable to follow his train of thought. "Hamlet," she said, wondering where he was going.

"I love Shakespeare. Seven hundred years old, and he still has lessons to teach us."

She recognized the speech; she would have to be an idiot not to. It was from Hamlet, where he, the melancholy Dane, was mourning whether suicide would be preferable to taking on an unpalatable duty. She had never understood that, how anyone could be so weak as to consider taking his own life. "What's your point? Just because you like Shakespeare doesn't mean you have any feelings of pride."

He sighed. "Each of us can see ourselves in his work. Who are you, Dorothy? Are you Iago, the cunning traitor to all he should respect? Are you Ophelia, willing to let yourself be pushed around by fate? Or are you Rosalind, the courageous heroine who's as clever as she is beautiful? When you figure it out, let me know."

He walked away from her then, leaving her puzzling out the confusing conversation.

She had taken a supply shuttle back, crammed into an uncomfortably tight chair. The flight plans had stated an intention of landing in New York, but due to lightning storms across most of North America, they were routed to Berlin. The journey gave her entirely too much time alone with her own thoughts; the shuttle was a utilitarian one, so there were no VR goggles or magazines, and the newsfeed was several months out of date.

Another Shakespearean character lurked at the edge of her thoughts, one who made her shiver. "Out, damned spot! out, I say!"

She looked at her hands, wondering if she would forever wear Noin's blood on them. Was she going to go mad with guilt, for letting her pride lead her to murder?

Dorothy! Move, Dorothy, MOVE!

Why had she done that? Why had Noin pushed her away, taken the fall? She could have let her die. No one -least of all Milliard- would have blamed Noin for it. Noin hadn't liked her, and she could have easily gotten rid of her that way.

Dorothy probably would have. Sometimes inaction was the best strategy to getting what you wanted. And Dorothy had wanted Milliard, wanted him to love her.

Noin wasn't like that though. She was a saint. Everyone kept telling Dorothy that- how Noin was so talented, so compassionate, so worthy. Noin didn't have doubts, Noin knew what she wanted, Noin was Milliard's beloved, Noin, Noin, Noin...

And now she was dead, and it was Dorothy's fault.

Milliard would never forgive her.

She wouldn't forgive herself.

The shuttle wasn't like the ones she was used to. She was used to the brisk efficiency of the military, or the pampering of her family's private vehicles. The cluttered atmosphere was full of people trying to leave the colonies, and it was only using her Preventer's clearance that she had been able to snag a seat. Behind her a little kid sat, sticky fingers coloring in a book as he repeatedly kicked the back of her worn chair. She gritted her teeth, wondering how she had fallen so far. Two months ago she had been in her manor, rejecting suitors from the cream of society. Now she was leaving a dirtball of a colony, with the clothes on her back as her only possessions.

The kid was still kicking her chair. She turned around, getting ready to yell at him.

The boy was about seven, with huge blue eyes and European features. His clothes, like most of the colonists, had seen better days, and the coloring book he held so tightly in his hands looked like it had been scraped numerous times to be reused again and again. The crayons he was using looked as though they had been carefully rationed. Dorothy felt her harsh words die in her throat, unaired. "Hello!" he chirped, but his face was drawn and pale with worry. His eyes fastened on her clothes, and a smile lit his features. "You're a soldier!" he said.

She nodded. "Dorothy Catalonia," she said, offering him her hand. When she had been seven, she had been smarter then most people gave her credit for. She remembered her scorn for those clueless adults.

Had it only been ten years ago?

"Donovan Riley," he said, setting down his book before giving her a shake. His grip was uncertain, and she adjusted hers for his lack of strength. Someone needed to teach him how to shake hands properly. "My mother says I'm not supposed to speak to strangers, but you're wearing a uniform, so it's ok."

She pitied him. So innocent, and she didn't have the heart to tell him that some soldiers were among the roughest people she knew. Besides, she was bored and a conversation with him was better then being left to her own thoughts. "Where's your mother?" she asked politely. The man seated beside him was of African descent, and obviously no relation.

The boy's face fell. "She's still on the Colony. She's sending me to my aunt in New York so I'm out of the way. She spent a lot of time saving up so she had enough money for a ticket."

"How are you getting to New York? Is one of the stewardesses going to help you?"

He looked confused. "I don't know. Can you help me?" He pulled out a crumpled ticket and handed it to her.

She looked at it. It was the cheapest available, and uninsured. An insured ticket would have transferred the boy to another flight on arrival until the company got him to New York- but this was uninsured. He would effectively be stranded in a strange country, knowing no one.

A maternal instinct she hadn't believed herself to be possessed of came to her. "Sure. Do you have your aunt's number so I can call her?"

The boy handed her another card. It had contact information written on it. "When we get to the spaceport, we'll call her," Dorothy promised.

The flight after that was pleasant, since she switched seats with the other man. Donovan was a charming child, and eager to tell her about his life. His father had recently been killed in one of the attacks by the rebel forces, causing his mother to start saving money to head home to Earth. She worked hard, but her job as a janitor simply didn't pay well, and she was out of work more often then not. Finally she had enough money for the first ticket, and she was sending him to Aunt Nell until she could afford her own ticket.

Dorothy made a mental note to transfer some funds to Donovan's mother, enough for a second ticket. She respected the kind of courage that it took to send a child off on his own. She had gambled on the flight landing where it was supposed to. She loved her child enough to know the colony was going down.

When the plane landed, Dorothy helped him gather his scant belongings, relieved that she didn't have to deal with any of her own baggage. He clung to her hand as she made for the public terminal.

Punching in the number from the card, she was surprised that it was answered almost immediately by a woman in her twenties. "Yes?" the woman said, looking puzzled at Dorothy's worn appearance.

"Hello- Ms. Riley?"

"That's me." She tugged on a piece of her flyaway brown hair. "I'm sorry, but I have a family emergency. So unless this is important..."

"Aunt Nell!" Donovan said, standing on his tiptoes so he could stare into the screen.

The woman's eyes filled with tears. "VAN! Are you ok? I was so worried when the shuttle was rerouted..."

Dorothy smiled for the first time since Noin had died. "He's fine. My name is Dorothy Catalonia, and we met on the shuttle down."

The woman apparently recognized her. "My lady! I'm sorry if he's been an inconvenience...."

Dorothy shook her head. "No. He's been an angel, aside from a tendency to kick seats. I'm going to put him on the next flight for New York from here, if that's convenient?"

"I.... I don't have the money..." Nell said, obviously worried. "I want him here, but I don't see..."

"I'll cover it. Also, I'll be transferring funds to your account to pay for a ticket for your sister to return. Please see that she books a seat on the next flight."

The woman looked like someone had just handed her the world. "My lady! That's most kind!"

Dorothy affectionately tousled Donovan's hair. "No child should be apart from his mother."

They cut communications, and Dorothy arranged for tickets and a companion to accompany Donovan to his aunt's. After buying him a light dinner and a few toys at the gift shop, she placed him on the plane herself, watching him depart with a happy wave.

Sometimes things were simple.

She admired the Rileys, who knew what they wanted and went for it, taking risks.

But what was there for her now?

Geneva.

The answer came almost immediately.

Quatre would be on trial there soon. Une's Preventers were falling apart around her ears.

Yes, she would go to Geneva.

Dorothy Catalonia wasn't out of the game yet. She would show that her life was just as important as Noin's, that Noin hadn't died for nothing.

She walked over to the nearest counter, not even bothering to check which carrier she was using. "Book me on the next flight to Geneva," she demanded. "Bump someone else if you have to, but I needed to be there yesterday."

The young man looked at her Preventers' uniform that bore no rank insignia, and nodded nervously, recognizing the sound of a person used to command when he heard it. "Yes, ma'am. We have a shuttle leaving in two hours. Will that suffice?"

She rewarded him a with a wintry smile. "Yes. That will do very well indeed."

She was Dorothy Catalonia, granddaughter of Dermail, and the future Duchess Dermail. She had run once; she would not run again. This time, the battle will go to me, she thought. No matter what the bible says, the battle always goes to the strong. And I am strong. I don't need to prove that to anyone anymore. I don't need a man to fulfill me, especially not Milliard- I am my own person.

She almost believed it.

 
Go to Dorothy's Letter to Noin

 
Scene IX: Strangers When We Meet

It was early morning in Geneva when they came to release him. His sister Yaminah had done her work well, managing to release him into the custody of his sister Jaffa. Jaffa, in turn, had picked him up around eight, flanked by Aisha and Scheherazade, the two identical twins. Quatre hugged each of his sisters on sight, smiling at them gladly as he felt their sincere relief for his sake. Aisha was carrying a fresh outfit for him, and he changed quickly, eager to get out of the prison clothes.

The four Winners quickly went to a shuttle, under the careful guard of Rashid. About ten of the Maguanacs were in attendance, and Quatre felt a flush creep up the back of his neck. He'd tried and tried to make these people see him as a person, rather then an icon, but all his attempts had come to naught. To them, he was the personification of perfection, and it was a terribly hard image to live up to.

"Yaminah is at Geneva with Une's team, Reeshya is gathering the family together at our Geneva compound...and Lilah's waiting on the shuttle for you." The last part was said hurriedly, as though Jaffa found the words distasteful.

"Why didn't she come with you?" he asked. He remembered the glimpse of her he had in prison before Yaminah had come to talk to him of his impending trial, but that had hardly been enough. A glimpse of a woman he'd barely recognized after years apart. A glimpse of a sister who had come back to him in his hour of need. A glimpse of the girl who had inadvertently shown him that it was possible to escape the Winner family, and everything it entailed. She had fled for love, while he had left because of personal beliefs, but they both had left. Of all his sisters, Lilah was the one who had the most in common with him.

The twins exchanged looks, communicating something in their own unique way to each other, but it was Jaffa who answered, ignoring the exchange. "Lilah isn't comfortable around all these authority figures. She said she'd meet you on the shuttle, when you two could have a chance to get reacquainted."

He blinked, wondering what had happened to his sister. Lilah had been part of the Winner family, comfortable with generals and royalty.

The shuttle was one of the private Winner Corporation ones, one that was so full of luxury and excess that he winced each time he set foot on it, imagining the cost. His family could well afford it, but he hated such indulgences. He remembered living with the Maguanacs, and how they had had so little.

The siblings were escorted up the ramp to the main cabin. "She's in the first conference room. We thought you'd like some privacy."

He nodded his thanks and opened the door, stepping in.

The door clicked shut behind him with a louder-than-seemingly possible thud.

He was struck by how much like him she looked. That was the first thing that came to his mind. He'd always had effeminate features, but seeing her was like looking into a mirror that told him how he would have looked had he been born the thirtieth Winner daughter, rather then the only son. She was the only blue-eyed blonde, now that Iria was dead.

"Lilah?" he said.

She looked nervous, as though she was unsure of her welcome. She was thin, too thin, and her golden hair was dull, a sign of malnutrition. She didn't look that much like the pretty older sister of his memories, but there was a set to her shoulders, a gleam in her eyes, that reminded him of when they had been close. "Quatre," she said, nodding her head.

Still the distance between them remained, those five feet seeming like a mile. "How have you been?" he asked formally, as though they were merely acquaintances, instead of siblings reuniting after almost eight years of separation.

"Fine. And you?" She tugged on the long sleeves of her dress, a nervous gesture that he remembered of old.

Quatre wished he knew how to break through the formality, break through and see Lilah. See her, not this polite stranger who looked like she was a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching car. "I've been better." His eyes focused on the thick dress, finding it odd and out of place. "Are you really that cold? It's the middle of July."

"Huh?" she said, and then apparently answered her own question mentally as she followed where his eyes were. "Um, no.... I just prefer longer sleeves," she said, shifting her arms so the were tucked neatly behind her back.

Something Duo had talked about when he was younger tugged at the back of his mind. Normally he would have let the subject drop, but... there was something important about Lilah's long sleeves.

Quatre stepped towards her, and he could see she wanted to flinch away from him. But she remained rigid, proud in the way that Raberba Winner would have recognized as coming from a scion of his line. "May I?" he asked.

Her face was impassive as she held her arms out in front of her, allowing him to push the fine wool back to expose her arms. He hissed slightly as he saw the old scars there, scars of failed suicide attempts, tracks from needles, and scars he couldn't identify the source of. "It's not pretty, is it?" she said in a serene voice, sounding like her mind was a million miles away. "But then, I'm not pretty. Not anymore."

"Why?" he whispered, fingertips tracing one of the botched scars on her bony arm. She, like many potential suicides, hadn't known the proper way to cut her wrists, and it looked like it was that fact alone that had saved her life, for though the marks were years old, they were deep.

"Did you hear where I was, little brother?" she asked, still speaking in a voice that sounded like a teacher speaking to a slow student.

"No..." he whispered.

She gave him a gentle smile, taking her arm back from him and returning her sleeves to their proper place. "I lived in the Breaks for seven years," she told him. "When I was starting out, there were a few times when I was ready to die... I wanted death, and would have embraced it gladly." She fidgeted almost unconsciously with the place where one particular brutal scar lay.

"Lilah.... You were always welcome back here. Was death really preferable?"

The pride, the damn Winner pride that he himself was often a victim to, sparked to life on her face. "To admitting I was wrong, and that Father had been right? To taking the easy way out? To letting Father win? Yes, it damn well was!" she swore.

He nodded, recognizing her rebellion. Only three Winners had ever defied their father: Zarifa, who had run away to join the Federation military and hadn't been heard from since; Lilah, who had run away under the promises of a false love... and himself. Who had run away to construct a Gundam that was responsible for thousands upon thousands of deaths. His sins were the greatest, yet it was Lilah who had suffered most. The universe was terribly unkind.

"Lilah..." he whispered.

Her eyes grew even harder, if that was possible. "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come." She turned to leave for the main cabin, but he stopped her.

"Wait. I've missed you. Didn't you ever think about us?"

She laughed, a hollow sound. "I missed you when I remembered you." Her fingers toyed with her sleeves. "Sometimes I was so full of drugs that I couldn't tell what way was up. Did I mention that? I was a druggie and a hooker, too. I was a slut- don't you think Father would have been proud?" Her smiled turned savage, and he couldn't tell who she wanted to wound more, herself or him. Or any of the Winner clan who hadn't lived through what she had survived.

"I-"

They were interrupted by Scheherazade, who came in. Quatre could tell it was her by the bright green sash she wore- Aisha hated green with an unholy passion. "Quatre?"

"Yes, oneesan?" he asked.

"Aisha just received a call from Preventers. Chang Wufei and Heero Yuy have been found, and will be there shortly after we arrive."

He felt like someone had sucker punched him. After all this time....

More missing friends had returned. Now all that had to happen was Duo and Trowa showing up, and they would be complete again. They weren't complete without each other.

Unnoticed by him was the fact that Lilah went pale. If it had been Jaffa in there instead of Scheherazade, she would have commented. But Scheherazade was not one of his most observant sisters- she was bouyant and didn't sweat the details.

"Thank you."

Scheherazade left. On her heels came a pleasant looking woman wearing a clean Winner Corps uniform bowed to them slightly. "Excuse me, Mr. Winner. Could you and your sister please take your seats? We're going to be landing shortly, and we need to prepare the cabin."

He shook his head. "We'll remain standing. If we crash, seatbelts wouldn't do much good, and I find them uncomfortable."

The stewardess seemed ready to protest, but he gave her his best little boy smile, and she conceded. "I'm not taking responsibility if your older sister finds out," she warned as she returned to the main cabin.

"I own the family business, and everyone answers to Jaffa," Quatre said with a quirk of amusement, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"Jaffa has always run everything she touches. In a nice way," Lilah said, then lapsed into silence.

Quatre broke it after a few uncomfortable minutes, asking the question that had been plaguing him. "Lilah, why are you here?"

She was startled. "What?"

"Why are you here? It's not just because of me and the mess I got myself into- you could have come back at any time, and didn't. When father and Iria died- we needed you just as much then, but you weren't here." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, tried and failed.

"I...." she began, looking ready to confess. Then the pride flashed across her face, and he knew that she was shutting herself off behind her walls. "Not even for him can I whore myself to the family again," she said, looking depressed. He could feel despair radiating off her in disconcerting waves, feel it creep along his spine in an unconscious echo of her hopelessness. "It's something I can't do." Again she made ready to leave, heading for the doorway.

"Who are you talking about, Lilah? Who is...he?" His instincts told him should she leave the room without telling him, he'd most likely never know.

Lilah said nothing.

He reached out and caught her in a quick hug. She resisted at first, but after a moment, her arms rose and wrapped around him. It was one of those eternal moments, a moment when they were in complete harmony with each other and the universe around them. It couldn't last, though, and all too soon they had to separate. "Lilah, no matter what, we'll be here, should you need us. We don't need anything from you- we just... want you know you're loved."

His sincerity must have been conveyed somehow or another. A small smile turned up on the corner of her lips, a smile Quatre only saw because he had been willing it into existence. "My name is Atsuki," she said softly. "I'm the girl who used to be your sister."

They felt the shuttle shift beneath their feet as the pilot beneath their feet, as they unthinkingly adjustd their stances to keep upright. "We're here," Jaffa said, calling out to them from the cockpit where she was seated beside the pilot.

Quatre wanted to bite out something sarcastic about stating the obvious, but beld himself in check. Jaffa had been good to him, and didn't deserve to be his punching bag due to his frustration with Lilah.... Atsuki.... whoever the hell she was.

"We're at Preventers?" Atsuki asked. "Excuse me," she said, her pale face looking determined, and her eyes carrying a light that wasn't quite sane, "I have a few people to see."

Quatre watched as she left the room to head for the exit ramp, wondering if he wanted to know what was going on with his sister, the one who now called herself Atsuki, abandoning even the family name. She was a stranger, and he was starting to doubt they would ever be siblings again.

 
Scene X: In Sight, But Out of Reach

 
Relena hadn't been sure what kind of reaction from Heero she had been expecting when she finally saw him again over a year and half of separation, but it had never crossed her mind that he would ignore her. She would had expected a nod, perhaps a threat, or if she was lucky, a smile. But to be ignored...?

There were reasons she hated him sometimes.

She had been watching Catherine Bloom record her interview with Vanessa Curtis when the news that Chang Wufei and Heero Yuy had arrived had reached her. The girl had emerged from the make up artist's hands looking beautiful and intelligent. Her reddish brown hair had been curled attractively away from her face, and the stage make-up had been applied with subtle skill that made her eyes look huge and innocent. Relena had nodded her approval, believing that this might work. If they did this right, it just might flush the pilots out.

Catherine spoke well, and from the heart. She was protective of her brother, every so often glancing at the lawyer who was off-camera, seeing if she was being signaled not to answer for fear of legal repercussions. Aside from the occasional pause, her voice was steady and true, and she seemed to handle the questions easily. Vanessa was skilled at putting people at their ease, eliciting intimate and accurate portrayals, but Catherine performed for the camera well and needed little prompting.

They took a break after about an hour. Relena carried a tray of water to the two women, smiling. "You're doing wonderfully, Catherine."

"Thank you, your Majesty," she said, standing up to perform a stretch that made it look like her bones were made of rubber. She bent over backwards so far that her fingertips were mere inches from the ground.

"Relena," the Queen of Cinq corrected, smiling. Catherine was teasing her, and it felt pleasant. She was relieved in a way- most people set her on a pedestal, forgetting that very human emotions lay behind her politics.

The girls laughed together, and Catherine looked like she was about to say something when another woman entered the room. Relena recognized the major's insignia, and nodded. "Can I help you, Major?" she asked, stepping protectively in front of Catherine. Catherine didn't like the Preventers.

"I'm Major Li," the Asian woman said, smiling. She was neat in her perfectly pressed uniform, holding her slender body with grace and confidence. "I have some news that General Une said you'd like to hear."

"Yes?" Relena asked absently, head still full of the thoughts of preparations for the next few interviews. Catherine's had gone without a hitch, but she had to-

"Chang Wufei and Heero Yuy are due to arrive on base within half an hour."

She supposed that the correct response at that moment would be one of joy, of concern, of surprise, one befitting the Queen of the Cinq Kingdom.

Instead, Relena stared at the major for what seemed like the longest two seconds of her life and said, "Oh."

She faintly felt a touch on her arm and looked around to see Catherine's hand on her elbow. "Relena? Are you all right? You went pale all of a sudden."

She took a deep breath, letting it out. "I'm fine," she said, not sounding convincing at all. "I'm fine. Major...?" Back to her usual professional self. That had been a close call.

Heero? Here? Now? And no one had told her he was coming?

When did they find him? How did they find him?

If Major Li had any comments about Relena's loss of control a minute ago, she kept them to herself. "I assume you'd like to go out and meet them?" she said politely, smiling that petite Chinese smile. "They're due on Landing Pad Two by Preventers private helicopter, on the west side of the base."

She took a deep breath, folding her hands in front of her. "Yes," she said tightly. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

Catherine looked like she was on the verge of saying something, but Relena instead gave Li a bright smile, elbowing Trowa's sister in the stomach. Catherine grunted, but held her peace, letting Relena face the major.

"See to it that I'm informed when the shuttle is to arrive? I want to be on the pad to greet them. I'll be in my quarters."

Li nodded, and Relena grabbed Catherine's upper arm and steered her away from the interview room.

"Hey!" Catherine demanded - safely out of earshot. "We're not done with my interview-!"

Relena glanced around to make sure there was no one within sight and then sagged against the wall. "I know," she said softly, "but I just needed to-"

Catherine understood immediately, backing up to the wall and putting a supportive arm around her. "Honestly, Relena, I don't see how you deal with these things so calmly...I'd have been throwing a fit back there..."

"I almost did," Relena said, with a ghost of a smile. "This just hasn't been my day. First I hear about Noin, then I hear about Heero."

Catherine suddenly looked very alarmed. "Oh no! And I guess me getting mad at you this morning didn't help either!" She put one hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. "I'm so sorr-"

Relena laughed breathlessly and shook her head. "No...don't be sorry. There are times I'd like to be reminded that I'm still just a girl, and you had perfect right to yell at me. If I ever do anything stupid again, feel free..." She trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words. For all her effort to treat Catherine like an equal over the last few days, there had always been that invisible boundary between them. Queen and commoner. But suddenly it was as if they were on the same level, had always been on the same level.

"Are you excited?" she faintly heard Catherine ask. "You haven't seen him since the end of the war. I'm sure it's a shock to hear that he's coming...you didn't know about this."

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Excited? She didn't know.

Heero...I don't need you in my life now. Not right now.

"Relena?" Catherine's arm tightened around her. "Are you sure you don't want to sit down? I know it's been a long day for you...it's just going to get longer, especially with Heero and Wufei coming in..."

"No, I'll be all right." She looked sideways at the deceptively innocent face of the girl beside her, her words coming awkwardly. "It's just...I've never had...well, you know. Had a real friend before."

Catherine's eyes filled with tears and she put both arms around Relena, hugging her tightly. "Oh, Relena. Don't ever be afraid of telling me anything."

Relena hugged her back, blinking back her own tears, and then stepped back reluctantly. "Come on. You have an interview to finish...they're probably wondering where you are."

"Are you sure you'll be ok?"

Relena gave her a grim smile. "I'm used to dealing with things. I'll be fine."

"All right then." Catherine stepped forward, then paused. "And...if I'm not around before you go...good luck with Heero."

Her smile was slightly less forced this time. "Thank you."

She looked at the clock as Catherine disappeared back into the interview room and closed the door behind her. Half an hour...just enough time to run to the bathroom and touch up on her makeup. She walked quickly down the hallway, emerging out into the sunlit afternoon and taking the quickest way back to the officers' quarters which Une had emptied out and given to her and Catherine for living space.

And Heero and Wufei, now, she would think. And anyone else who would request asylum from the World Nation and the media...

She shook her head. Don't be ridiculous, Relena. They wouldn't put all of you in one place...

Her quarters were dark and smelled like she had left them: a mix of perfumes and last night's midnight snack and the faint lingering afterscent of vanilla candles. Grimacing at the potpourri of smells, she crossed to the bathroom and turned on the light, reaching for her makeup kit.

Her dress was good enough for the occasion, she decided, keeping her mind carefully blank as she applied a small amount of lip gloss and touched up her powder. Just a little makeup. Did Heero like makeup?

No, don't go there.

It had been two years. Two long years without him. She tried to think of his face, his voice, and found that she couldn't remember. He was a shadow in her mind, an ever present force, but she couldn't even remember how he had said her name.

Omae o korosu.

She packed up her makeup kit mechanically, mind jumping from scene to random scene when they had been together on the Libra, confronting Milliard. He'd taken care of her then. Surely...surely he hadn't forgotten her?

She sat on her bed and watched the second hand of the clock on the wall spin round...round...round again, mind drifting, fingers plucking the gauzy white material of her dress absently. When the knock came she jerked, realizing she'd been falling asleep. The minute hand of the clock indicated that almost twenty minutes had passed. Shaking her head, she stepped over and opened the door.

General Brown stood there.

"Well, hello, General," she said, a little bemused. "Are you my escort?"

He laughed. "Major Li was going to send a sergeant down for you, but as I was going also, I thought you might like a little more...interesting company. One befitting the Queen of Cinq anyway."

Smiling at him, she closed and locked the door behind her and followed him down the hallway and out of the building. He offered her his arm to step into the back seat of the military jeep and then followed her, leaning forward to speak briefly to the driver in the front seat.

The jeep windows were open and Relena's hair whipped about in the wind as she tried vainly to look about, to memorize the unfamiliar section of the base in which she found herself, but the roads and buildings zipped by at such a pace that she found it bewildering. Beside her, she heard Brown laugh.

"Don't bother," he shouted over the wind. "With any luck, you won't be hanging around here much! Unsavory stuff goes on around here!"

She frowned at him. "What unsavory stuff?" she yelled back.

He didn't answer and she considered prodding him, but at that moment the jeep stopped and the throbbing of helicopter blades could be heard approaching.

"Just in time," he said, tipping his hat to the driver, who saluted and turned off the jeep engine.

The helicopter touched down just as they stepped out to the edge of the spectator's circle on the landing pad. Wufei's head peered out from the door, and her heart gave a leap. She stopped herself from squealing his name, feeling embarrassingly like a teenage girl fawning over some boy, but it had been so long and she hadn't seen him...it wasn't like they had known or even liked each other back then, but it was the ties that counted. That they had been through the same things, had seen the same horrors together.

But when he emerged, her heart stayed still. She was glad she didn't have any time to mentally prepare herself, because when she saw him the emotion that overwhelmed her was not one of longing or concern or even joy, but simply of....acceptance. Like a part of her was finally back where it belonged.

General Brown was talking to Wufei but she only heard their conversation as a mumble in the back of her mind as she watched him walk towards her. She knew he saw her. She was vaguely shocked at his appearance, at his bone-thin face and arms, the long, matted hair, the raised scar. But the eyes were the same.

"Heero," she said. And when he stared at her, she shivered, one hand reaching out to stop whatever he might say.

But he didn't say anything. Not a word.

He simply...walked away.

He ignored her all through the ride home, sitting in the front seat with the dark-skinned boy who had come with them while she and Brown occupied the back seat. The tinted windows were rolled up, enclosing them in a coccoon of darkness. Wufei was in the jeep behind them, a medical jeep come to take him away to the hospital. He had a fever, the medics said. She felt a tiny stab of guilt that she hadn't even seen him faint, but it was only a small one. Wufei was the least of her concerns right now.

When they got back to the main base, she got off, going around to the front with a determined march in her step. All right, she hadn't seen him for two years and he didn't even look like himself and yes, he was Heero Yuy the almighty Gundam pilot, but she was the Queen of Cinq and she was not about to let him get by with this.

"Heero," she said firmly. "Don't I even get a hello?"

He looked at her again, just looked at her, and she felt her resolve melt away. There was something dangerous in those eyes that hadn't been there when they had parted.

"I don't want to see you again," he said, and stepped out of the jeep, following the dark-skinned boy into the building. She whirled around to face him, hardly daring to believe what he'd just said to her, and saw Brown watching.

"That's right," she said, not even trying to hide the bitterness in her voice. "Laugh all you want. Queen Relena, spurned by Heero Yuy again. What else is new."

"I'm not laughing," he said gently. "I..." He stopped. "Can I talk to you later? I have some questions."

"Sure?" she said absently, one hand on the car for support.

"All right. I suppose...I don't have to tell you that what just happened is strictly classified and that no one else on this base is to know about it?"

Relena gave him a bitter smile. "My whole life has been strictly classified. I'm used to it."

He paused a minute longer, then disappeared inside. She followed, letting the coolness of the interior wash over her, leaning against the wall and wiping the sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief.

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath.

Something squeaked nearby. A door. She jumped.

"Who's there?"

A woman who looked vaguely familiar stepped out of the shadows, a smile on her lips. "Don't worry yourself about him," the woman said, her words cruel in how forthright they were. "He's not a matter of your concern- you don't understand him."

She wanted to scream her denial, but after all that had happened, she had no ground left to stand on. "Who are you?" Relena demanded angrily, leaning forward aggressively. If she hadn't been such a staunch supporter of pacifism, she would have clawed the other blonde's eyes out. Something about the stranger screamed that she was a threat, and Relena would be damned if she would take it lying down.

The girl tilted her head, using the precious few inches of height she had to her advantage. "Call me Atsuki. I'm Wing's - Heero's - lover. So you see, you're not needed. I understand him, and what can you offer him that I can't?"

 
Scene XI: Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere

 
Major Li had been working on the stack of papers clumped on the corner of her desk for about three days, but the towering pile only had seemed to get higher. Sergeant Gonzalez had brought in another stack of forms this morning - things to sign and review and fill out for the upcoming IG inspection. She really didn't see the point. The world was in a crisis situation and the Preventer Headquarters was trying to prepare for an IG inspection?

Then again, she supposed that even trying to pretend that things were going normally would be good for morale.

She shrugged, signed off the bottom of the current form with what she hoped was a flourish, and tossed it into the basket of TO BE SENT OUT. Morale wasn't her department...someone else could worry about it. She was here to make sure people's jobs got done. One person's job, in particular.

Li reached for the next form, paused as she scanned the title. Riffled through the document. It was easily ten pages, eleven...twelve. She frowned, then returned to the beginning and paged slowly through it again, eyes flicking through the titles of the various sections, to the words in bold print at the header of every page:

CLASSIFIED. DO NOT DUPLICATE.

Flipping the document to the first page again, she stood, pushing her chair back, and stepped over to the copy machine on the other side of her small office. Documents like these would definitely not be kept on electronic copy, as classified as they were and with the Gundam fiasco as a prime reminder of the fact, and the only people who would have access to a hard copy would be top Preventers personnel. Which, as one of Une's aides, she was.

Which gave her special...privileges.

She removed the staple from the packet and placed it in the copy bin, pressing the start button and leaning against the wall. The copy machine whirred and she heard the satisfying smack of paper hitting the bin as the machine spat out each page. She shuffled the stack, bringing both stacks back over to her desk, stapling them, and then with a second, cursory glance at the copied documents, reached inside her uniform collar for the slim chain that hung hidden around her neck. Removing it, she reached down and inserted the tiny intricate silver key into the locked bottom drawer of her desk. The lock beeped once and the drawer clicked open. She deposited the papers inside and pushed it shut. It clicked again and she replaced the chain around her neck, scooting her chair forward and signing her name to the original document, tossing it into the basket on the floor.

Putting her pen down, she stretched, feeling the muscles in her back tighten and then relax, hearing her neck crack slightly. She glanced at the clock, then looked out the window at the lights that were just beginning to brighten the cloudy Swiss dusk. It hadn't rained, but the sky had been threatening to do that all day, and the setting sun cast bloody red spears of light over the tops of the buildings of the base.

A knock on the door.

"Enter," she called, picking up her pen and touching her neck to make sure she had replaced the key and the chain. It was probably Gonzalez.

The man who entered was in his mind-thirties, twice her age, but wearing technical sergeant's stripes. "Are you ready for me to take the next batch, ma'am?"

She affected a tired yawn, and waved at the papers in the basket. "I'm done with those." Glancing ruefully at the high pile still on the desk. "And I've got hundreds more to go, I think."

He gave a sympathetic chuckle and picked up the basket. "I'll be right back with this, ma'am."

"Thank you," she said as the door closed behind him. She put down the pen again, got up and walked to the corner, flipping open the control box by the door. Taking the chain from around her neck again, she carefully placed the key into one of three identical locks in the box. Two beeps. The security camera which was supposed to be monitoring the room was still turned off.

She replaced the chain, closed the box. She had had the camera off for two days now, and she'd been afraid someone would start wondering, but apparently Preventers security wasn't as wonderful as they made it out to be. Either that or security figured that she was entitled to her privacy.

If this was any other situation, she would have called head of base security up to her office and had a little chat with him, but this was perfect. The less prying eyes, the better. Things had been...busy lately, and having the camera turned off was essential.

Glancing at the time again, Li returned to her chair just in time to hear the knock and see the door open as Gonzalez came in again with the empty basket.

"Just by the desk, where it was before," she said before he could ask. He nodded and set it down.

"Good luck ma'am." Another sympathetic glance.

"Thank you," she said, flashing him a smile which hopefully he'd take to be a part of the typical sweet Asian girl. He did.

She hated being labeled as the typically sweet Asian girl, but sometimes, disguises were necessary. And the less people who believed that she was even capable of being up to something behind the backs of the authorities, the better.

Twiddling her pen through her fingers, she contemplated filling out more forms, then decided against. She got up, locked the door, and reaching to her neck, she unclasped the key a third time. Inserted it into the drawer, drawing out two pieces of paper and a data disk under the package she had deposited into the drawer earlier.

It was 1905 hours, so she had about ten minutes to finish this before her...appointment. Scanning the sheets, she calculated that it would take about eight minutes, if she worked fast.

She smiled grimly and inserted the disk into her computer, dimming the lights from the remote located under her desk. The computer screen shone bright white in the darkness as the disk whirred and then the processor hummed.

STATUS REPORT, the screen read. ENTER CODE AND PASSWORD. WRONG CODE AND PASSWORD WILL CAUSE PROGRAM TO SELF DESTRUCT AND DESTROY THIS SYSTEM.

She placed her fingers to the keyboard, rapidly keyed in a long string of letters and numbers, sitting back as the system worked and then beeped once. She was in.

Her face darkened as she quickly processed the terse orders in front of her. This was far more serious than she expected. It would take much longer than eight minutes. She looked at the clock. Four minutes. Sighing, she logged out, opening the drawer and stuffing the papers and disk back into it. She would look at it later.

Two minutes.

One.

It was time.

Silently, she padded to the door, made sure it was locked, and then went back to her desk. Put her hand on the keyboards and entered the security network.

As a top Preventers officer, she was allowed into most of the classified parts of the military and government networks, but there were secret places into which the top government official of the World Nation could not enter. Not even Une. These were the Holes, as they were called in networker talk, and the government had been trying to get rid of them ever since the twentieth century, when the internet was invented. They had been called different things back then, but it was still the same. Hackers setting up bugs and rooms on high-profile networks, stealing data, stealing money, stealing information, stealing the very lives of the individuals who were still trying to combat them using their petty techniques.

It was almost sad. Almost, if she and her Holes on the net weren't the ones on the top list of wanted criminals.

Oh, they didn't know her name, only her handiwork, and it was impossible for them to find out. Nearly impossible, anyway, with the camera blacked and the door locked. She would prefer to access the network from home, but that was too traceable. The Preventers network was vast, covering the world, all five original colonies, and several others besides. And who would ever suspect her, the innocent Chinese girl, so devoted to her military duty? Only a superhuman would be able to hunt her down.

Only a superhuman...like the Gundam pilots.

Her lips compressed in a thin line as her fingers flew, maneuvering her way through security checkpoints and firewalls with deft speed, the lines of code scrolling across her screen almost too fast to be read by anyone less skillfull. Bulwarks of data crumbled before her as she moved deeper and deeper into enemy territory. This was her world, her battlefield. This was her war, and damned if she was going to let freaks like the Gundam pilots take it away from her.

She believed in personal freedom. She also believed that all personal freedom came with a price, and if people weren't going to be willing to pay that price, they would be swept aside for the ones who would.

She was willing to go as far as it took.

Spotting her destination, she jumped two other Holes, sneaking a peek at them in passing. Amateurs. There were a thousand things wrong with their work that would get them caught by any remotely skilled programmer, and she bet that neither one of them would be there tomorrow when she logged on again. Her work, on the other hand, was flawless. Skillful. Perfect.

General Une knew that a damn good aide was working for her. A pity she didn't know how good. Li maneuvered her way between the last bytes of scrolling data. And she was in.

The data disappeared and a cube appeared, moving closer and closer to her on the screen and then she saw it fill her screen. A small red light on the corner or her screen and she reached beside her, pulling out the goggles. Slipping them on and plugging them into the computer, she adjusted the focus. The blank gray screen of her computer had become, through the goggles, a virtual city.

The city today was 20th century London, the streets eerily empty. The sky was a pale pink color and the clouds drifted across the sun with abnormal speed. She decided she didn't like one of the buildings, tapped a key on her keyboard. It vanished, replaced by a small fountain. Much better. She moved forward, putting one virtual foot in front of the other. If she looked down, she would see her feet clad in traditional Chinese sandals, the loose pants and long shirt of a typical Chinese peasant boy swishing around her. She preferred to dress in male clothes in her Hole. It was her prerogative, a sort of freedom she didn't have in the waking world, and besides, it was her territory.

She made her way to the arranged meeting place, a square with a good view of Big Ben, and sat down on one of the benches. A group of pigeons waddled over to her, and she frowned. She hated pigeons. With another click of the key she made them disappear, changing them to a flock of eagles who all looked at her with disdainful eyes and then vanished.

"You're early."

She saw the figure approaching from the far side of the square, stood up to greet it. The voice was sexless, the clothing a messy mixing of black and red silk and silver medieval chain armor, covering most of the face which seemed to be made of silver as well. She sighed.

"Can't you ever pick something that looks normal, for once?"

"You can wear boys' clothes and put eagles in London, I can be the Tin Man if I want," it retorted. "This will be short...I haven't much time. And they'll be suspecting something if I stay in here too long."

"Duly noted," Li said. "I read your disk."

The figure might have raised a silver eyebrow. She wasn't sure. The sun shining on all that silver made her eyes hurt. With another click, she was wearing sunglasses. "And?" the silver figure said.

"You're crazy."

"I've been told that before."

"I can't do this!" Li exclaimed. "This is suicide. No one on the networks would be STUPID enough to take this, and even if they were-"

"Why not?"

"The Breaks, for God's sake, the Breaks! Don't you think? No one in their right mind would go there, and even anyone in their wrong mind would think twice!"

"If I was an assassin these days," it said, "if the commission was high enough, I'd take it."

"I think you're wrong," Li said bluntly. "I'll put out the request, but...I think you're grasping at straws."

"It has to be done, Li. We can't let someone like him run loose on us anymore. I was taking a big gamble with him, and it's worked out so far, but I don't know how far he'll test his leash. I don't want to find out. And we'll kill two birds with one stone."

"If we kill anything at all," Li muttered.

The silver figure twisted its face in what she thought was a smile, but its lips were hidden by the red silk and silver mask. "No harm in trying. And you're well known around the community and the Holes. No harm in you dropping by a few more..." it gestured to the empty city around them, "...populated ones and spreading the word."

"If I don't get laughed out of them," Li said darkly. "Why don't you do it?"

"For one thing, I'm busy," it said. "You know that as much as anyone. For another thing, you're one of my top subordinates. I delegate important things to you, you take care of them. I wouldn't think of giving this to anyone else. And thirdly because I don't know shit about this networking thing, and you know it. The only reason I can get in here is because you gave me one of those goggle things and a password."

Li laughed. "You have me trapped here."

"Anything else?"

"I found another report that looks fishy," she said. "I'll send it to you first chance I get. It's in the drawer right now."

"Good. No suspicions?"

She shook her head. "None. The camera's been turned off for two days and no one seems to have noticed yet, and the duty day is over anyway. And Une's been in meetings all day for the past two weeks. She doesn't suspect a thing."

The figure shook its head. "Yes...time zone differences. I keep forgetting about those. All right, I'll leave you. I have things to look after here."

Li gave it a wry smile. "I bet. See you here same time, same place?"

"Right."

Without another word, it vanished and Li took one last look at London around her before removing her goggles, blinking several times to reorient herself back into the small office. The computer screen was once again a blank gray, and she exited, not bothering to take the fancy way out. Placing the goggles back on their hook under her desk, she reached up yet again to take the key from around her neck.

It was time to do some dangerous work.

 
Link to information on William Gibson's cyberspace novel Idoru, on which Li's virtual world is based.

 
Act VII Part II | Act VII Part IV | Back to Sainan no Kekka