Chapter 29: Silence Broken
“I love you,
Quatre.”
The man addressed laughs as he notes Yokaze’s gaze is fixed
not on him but on the pint of “boy”
ice cream he’s smuggled in. He produces a spoon from a separate jacket
pocket and replies, “I know.”
He pries the lid off the container, stabs the spoon into
it, and passes it to her. He tells her
about everyone, anticipating her questions as she rolls the forbidden treat
over her taste buds with relish. He
knows she worries about the others. In
the past several days she’s come to trust him for candid information since she
is unable to observe them herself.
“Heero’s doing well enough.
I think the L4 Preventers are starting to
second-guess the wisdom of inviting him to help with the investigation. When he’s not here, he’s at the office.”
Yokaze pauses and looks concerned. “Is he getting any sleep?”
“Of course! I’ve got
him under a strict curfew.”
She snorts at that and tries to look casual as she asks, “Are
they making any headway with the investigation?”
He shakes his head.
“Not that I’ve heard. They’ve
sent Trowa’s laptop on to the computer forensics department on Earth to go over
it with a fine tooth comb, so to speak.
But they’ve finished with yours.”
She is suddenly very, very still. “What about my computer?”
“Wufei returned it to Trowa yesterday. It’s at my apartment.” He hesitates.
“You didn’t know they had it. I’m
sorry I didn’t think to tell you sooner...”
“How did Wufei get my computer?” she asks slowly,
attempting to clarify things.
“Apparently, Heero asked him to go through it. He thought there might be something that
might help the Preventers.” He takes care with the wording of the
following thought. “But it did seem as...
as if he didn’t want... I think he was
looking to Wufei for discretion.” Quatre
observes Yokaze glaring at the contents of the ice cream pint.
She agrees, “That is Wufei’s specialty.” Then she abruptly forces an impish grin. “Except where Taki’s
concerned.”
Quatre pretends he hadn’t seen her troubled
expression. A wry grin pulls at his
lips. “Yeah. My apartment at the academy was right below
theirs...”
Yokaze groans in sympathy.
“You should have said something, Q.”
“It was all right. I
just turned some music on to cover the noise.”
She shakes her head.
“No, I would have taken the opportunity to make more recordings.” Her grin is suddenly rather feral and very
evil. “I have an extensive collection of
very sensitive equipment.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” he returns, appreciating the
double entendre.
“After Duo’s party, there’s no way you could.”
Yokaze looks up, eyes twinkling at the wry comment offered
by the newcomer. “Don’t go comparing
notes now, you two,” she teases.
Quatre regards Trowa with a sheepish expression. “Sorry, Trowa. I know how you feel about sharing your toys—“
“Oi!” That protest from Yokaze.
Trowa smirks.
“Speaking of... your boy-toy called.”
Quatre looks rather startled by that mild statement.
Yokaze just grins.
“Luke?”
Trowa nods. “Somehow
he found out you were involved with C555.”
“Oh, Lord. I’m glad
I didn’t take that call.”
He affirms, “He was rather... adamant.”
Her left brow arcs in silent question.
Trowa paraphrases, “If I’m such ‘hot stuff’ how come I
couldn’t keep you from working on your vacation?”
Quatre snorts.
Yokaze looks puzzled.
“He called on my computer? You
have it booted up?”
Trowa shakes his head.
“Heero’s.”
Yokaze tries to keep her grin to herself. “He didn’t call him ‘sex-kitten’ did he?”
Quatre sees there’s a rather interesting story behind all
of this. He’ll have to quiz either one
of them later about it.
With an arced brow, Trowa returns, “Before or after he
figured out he wasn’t talking to you?”
Yokaze laughs.
Quatre is chuckling as well when his phone rings. With an apologetic smile, he excuses himself.
As the door swings shut behind him, Yokaze grins up at her
remaining visitor. “I wish you’d had him
wear a wire for that... I’m sorry I
missed it.”
A small frown erases the humor from Trowa’s face. “I had the Preventers
check out the transmitter you wore. They
couldn’t find anything wrong with it, either.”
He slides into the chair beside her bed and reaches for her hand. “I’m so sorry, Yo.”
She blinks at him, looking startled.
Drawing a breath, he meets her gaze. “If the transmitter hadn’t shorted out...” He struggles with communicating his thoughts
as the image of her being overwhelmed by foes and forcibly injected plays out
in his mind. How long had she lain on
that floor, calling for help and receiving only empty silence in response? How had the malfunction gotten past him in
the first place? He’d checked and
re-checked and tested every transmitter.
He can taste the frustration his thoughts are generating.
Her fingers caress his hand. She knows where his thoughts are leading and
offers this simple touch for distraction.
Trowa draws a deep, silent breath. Voice flat and objective once again, he
muses, “It must have been a problem with the computer, then.”
Her fingers tighten just slightly around his hand. “When will you know?”
“Soon. Tonight,
maybe.”
She nods once.
“Good.”
The hospital room door swings open once more. “Ms. Yuy?”
Yokaze grins for the nurse. “Present.”
The older woman strides over to the bed to get a good look
at her charge. “Are you ready for your
physical therapy?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Between the nurse and Trowa, Yokaze is transferred swiftly
and efficiently to the wheelchair. As he
holds the door open for them, he tells her, “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Yokaze draws a breath to argue. He can’t possibly be getting a great deal of
quality rest spending the night in a chair beside her bed... but she sees that look.
I sleep where you
sleep.
She says, “See you later.”
As the pair disappears around the corner, Trowa discovers
Quatre at his elbow, phone call now finished.
He studies the look on his friend’s face, notices the way Quatre
clutches the phone to his chest, over his heart.
“Quatre?”
“Is she all right?” he replies.
Trowa frowns.
Quatre shifts and looks a little embarrassed. “I... saw you talking. Through the window.”
He nods. “We still
haven’t been able to determine why her transmitter stopped functioning.”
“Hm,” Quatre replies vaguely.
“What is it?”
Quatre struggles to describe the expression he’s never seen
from her before. “She looked...” Wounded. “...a little...” Broken. “...perhaps...” Shattered. “...upset.”
Trowa glances away but Quatre manages to catch a glimpse of
the guilt in his eyes. He rests his
unoccupied hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Don’t, Trowa. It was an
accident. It wasn’t your fault.”
The muscles along Trowa’s jaw tense. He says quietly, “Maybe.”
One way or another, they’d all know for sure by tomorrow
night.
“Heero.”
Heero Yuy looks up from the reports he’s evaluating and
everything in him just... stops at the look on Wufei’s face. “What—?”
His voice cracks. He clears his
throat and starts again. “What is it?”
Wufei doesn’t reply with words, but with another damn nod
of his head indicating Heero is to follow him.
He stands quickly, the force of the movement sending the office chair
spinning away from him. In tense
silence, he trails Wufei Chang down the hall to a small conference room. He waves Heero through the door ahead of him
then locks it behind them.
Heero blinks at the sound then fixes his gaze on
Wufei. Enough stalling.
Wufei says quietly, as though they might be overheard, “The
technicians finished with Barton’s laptop.”
“And?”
“And there was nothing wrong with the transmitter.”
Heero frowns.
“What?”
“Heero, she dialed down the volume. Intentionally.”
“Do you know why?”
Wufei motions to a chair.
“Sit down.”
Reluctantly, Heero sits as Wufei pulls the phone towards
them across the table.
“They were able to recover her audio file. Although the volume was off, it still
recorded in a backup file. They had a
lot of work enhancing it and there are still things... missing.” Wufei glances at Heero. “I don’t understand what’s going on here,
Yuy. I’m hoping you can fill me
in.” Without further preamble, he
engages the speakerphone and punches in an extension. “Agent Barrows? This is Chang at L4. We’re ready.
Play the recording.”
Darkness.
The
door slithers closed behind her.
Silence.
Expectant
silence.
She’s
not alone.
Then
the lights above begin to glow softly.
That’s when she sees them: eight uniformed guards. Her training engages. She reaches for her gun. But then she hears the voice.
His voice.
“Zero-one. I knew you’d find your way back to me.”
She
freezes. No.
The
denial tears her apart, shattering her inner control. But not the mask. Her mask of composure remains in tact as she
stares at the man she’d thought... believed... hoped dead all
these years.
He
smiles from behind the massive desk.
“Welcome, home.”
Not
dead.
She
stares at him.
But
then, she’d never actually seen him die.
The
weight of her failure competes with the shock.
“Although,
I was beginning to worry.” He steeples
his fingers and regards her with his pale eyes.
“It took you a long time to find me.
Longer than it should have.”
She
says nothing. He does not mind her
silence. He never has.
“It’s their fault,
isn’t it, Zero-one?” He motions for her
to come closer as he removes a sheath of papers from the desk drawer. She approaches and watches as he carefully
lays each sheet across the gleaming surface.
Identity reports. Heero. Trowa.
Duo. Quatre. Wufei.
Taki. George. Cathy.
Bisho.
The
General tilts his head to one side. “It is their fault,”
he decides. “They don’t understand
you. Could never understand you.” His gaze slides over her. “Zero-one...
Even your name is so... alone.
You’ve reached out to them, let them in.
But they haven’t filled that hole in your soul, have they?” He pauses and watches her study the
reports. “Do you know why they’ve failed
you?”
She
looks up. Meets those cold, mesmerizing
eyes.
“Because
they aren’t me.”
He
reaches out. His fingertips trail along
the edge of her jaw. She does not pull
away.
“You
and I... We’re one. The same.
Soulmates.
Only I can understand what you feel, what you endure. The pain.
The desire. The adrenalin. Only I know why you’ve never stopped taking
missions. Why you move constantly from
place to place. Why you search for
another soul to save.”
He smiles
kindly.
“I gave
you that. The need. And I taught you the skills. Because of me, you’ve saved all of these
people.” His voice softens as he
confides, “I know you hate me for that; I never gave you a choice in the
matter. I’m sorry, Zero-one. I truly am.
But you are what you are.” He
pauses. “Do you know what that is?”
Slowly,
she shakes her head.
His
voice is almost tender as he says, “Mine.
Just as I am yours. We’ll never
be free of each other, you and I. I am
your purpose. You are my creation. It all leads us to one, final conclusion.”
He
leans back in his chair and gestures to their surroundings. “This station. This base.
The scientists. The
subjects. You know why it’s all here,
don’t you?” He grins. “Yes, it exists for the mission. And Mission One’s true objective is... you.”
She
shows no reaction, but he reads her nonetheless.
“How
else was I going to show you I was still alive?
Still waiting for you to answer my request.”
He
straightens in his chair and regards her very seriously. “I’m still waiting for you to show me how...
you would kill me.”
He
chuckles. “Oh, yes. I want you to kill me. I want you to show me that you are, indeed,
perfect. There is no higher compliment
to pay a mentor than to surpass him.
Surpass me, Zero-one. Take my
life. Become my masterpiece. The taking of a life is... binding. When I am dead by your hands we will truly be...
one. Inseparable. For eternity.”
Gazing
into her eyes, he continues, “You will come for me, won’t you? Yes, of course you will. After all, you don’t need them.” He gestures to the reports. “They cannot give this to you, this
belonging. But, perhaps you’ve convinced
yourself that their good intentions are something.”
He
sighs. “Well, Zero-one, I’m going to show
you the truth. Just as you have always
shown me the errors of my ways. I return
this favor to you.”
The
General glances over her shoulder and nods once. She finds herself bracketed by four
guards. She does not bother to struggle.
“I’m
going to prove to you that you don’t need them.
That you are perfect. That they
are superfluous.”
Out of
the corner of her eye, she watches a fifth guard prepare a syringe.
“It’s
plague,” he tells her, grinning. “A
dosage no one has ever survived before.
But you can. I built you to
survive.”
The man
with the syringe of death approaches.
“It’s
highly contagious.”
Her
eyes focus on the small photos on each of the reports before her.
“And at
this dosage, the symptoms will be... accelerated.”
The
bite of the needle stings her flesh.
“Anyone
who touches you will, at the very least, suffer greatly. So, it’s in your best interests to escape
unaided.” The General offers her a
sympathetic look. “It’d be a shame if
you infected them. But it would be even
worse if you did the noble thing and ended your life.”
He
smiles, delighted. “It’d be so tragic if
you never got to say good-bye.”
One of
the guards comes around the desk to maneuver the General’s wheelchair. “Understand this, Zero-one. I will give you two weeks to realize the
truth. If I am still alive...” His gaze flickers to the small portraits on
the desk. “Then I shall have to find
other means of proving my point.”
His
gaze is suddenly fierce. “They will not
have you! You’re mine. You belong with me.”
She
sways on her feet as the poison begins its work. The guards release her and step back. She meets the General’s gaze one last time as
he bids her, “Find your way back to me, Zero-one.”
She
struggles to stay focused as the nausea crests within her, tries to keep her
eyes open as they open a second, cleverly concealed doorway and depart. She stumbles toward it, but trips in the
shadows. It’s getting cold. Her body shudders uncontrollably. She tries to think.
They
will come for her. They cannot come for
her. She must tell them she’s all right... She reaches for the volume controls of the
transmitter. Tests her voice. Nothing.
She convulses on the floor, feels the burn of bile in her throat, and
the pain slams into her, sending her rocketing into the White.
~End of Chapter 29~