The door to the maintenance floor was locked as well. Duo used his lock picks again, in complete silence, halting every now and then to listen to the sound of footsteps. Hilde had said that the security officers made their rounds at random; they could be anywhere. It was a nuisance; usually security personnel was deliciously predictable. Fortunately, Hilde was keeping an eye on movements in the building by scanning continuously for body heat, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Not to Duo’s surprise, there was no one at this particular floor. The lights were dimmed - despite the relative darkness, he noticed the cameras and estimated the distance between them. Where his former boyfriend had been good with computers and electronics, Duo was unmatched with his ability and skills in stealth. Using the dim spots and blending with the shadows, he was able to duck and avoid the range of the camera, remaining unnoticed.
Crawling along the wall, keeping his pace light but steadfast, he mentally counted the office doors. The safe was located at the director’s office, one Campbell Grant, Quatre’s leading supervisor for this division. He turned around the corner, his eyes shining with excitement when discovering the right door. With a few steps Duo was entering the large office, and he whistled softly.
Campbell Grant had it made; this was more than just decadence, luxury, to an extent that it was almost embarrassing. For some reason, Duo didn’t believe that Quatre, who had seemed rather modest to him, would’ve agreed with the decoration of this particular office. The Monet on the wall was genuine, and the statuettes on the handcrafted cherry wood file cabinets looked pretty exclusive too. His boots were treading a colorful hand-woven carpet, and Duo’s flashlight revealed more evidence of a man who either did such good work that he was being rewarded with all this luxury, or was using certain funds to finance his taste for the finer things in life.
Shaking his head, Duo recalled the layout of this particular office and went to the northwest corner, past the impeccable mahogany desk with not a single piece of paper on it, just a laptop standard. He opened the door of a large walk-in cupboard, keeping the noise to a minimum. The shelves on the left side were stocked with office supplies, and on the right was a large rail supporting a dozen of fancy suits. Hugo Boss, Versace, Ralph Lauren… not bad. Grant could change easily into something else when recieving guests; Duo even noticed a large ironing board for the last-minute clean-up of a shirt or a tie. It didn’t hold his interest of course, and he crouched down, his goal in sight.
“Fuck.”
“What’s the matter?” Hilde had been silent, standing by in case he needed her.
“What was in Winner’s papers about the safe again?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot the code…”
“There’s no fucking code to be used on this one…”
“How can that be?” Hilde sounded genuinely surprised, as much as Duo was. Winner Sr. had been so meticulous with his research and his notes, even writing down his own personal combination for the safe in his will - an eleven ciphered code he’d strung together from the birthday of his son, his own age and apparently a few random numbers.
“Bugger,” they both said at the same time. Duo touched the safe - it was much smaller than it had been described, even another colour – and there was no doubt about it: this was another safe. It had been replaced. Maybe the artifact and the rest of Winner’s notes weren’t even in here. He examined the safe, trying to think of a way to open it.
“Apparently, the family decided to get a new one,” he said dryly.
“What kind? What’s the model?”
“It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. No keypad, no visible lock…I guess it opens to voice recognition, or else a DNA-analysis or iris scan…”
Hilde remained silent, awaiting his orders. Duo straightened himself again, idly walking back into the large office. He looked around, but there was nothing at first sight that could help him out. It suddenly struck him that there was another desk in the office, a much smaller one than Grant’s; it was the secretary’s workspace, a tidy desk with a brass name plate engraved with “L. Noin”. He heaved a sigh. There was nothing that stood out, nothing that could help him here. Solo was smart. He would at least have figured out what the lock on the safe responded to, and would come up with three solutions to open the thing. Duo groaned - he’d always been the one to fly by the seat of his pants, trusting a back-up like Hilde to help him out.
Everything in this office was locked down - fireproof, bombproof, foolproof…Duo heaved another sigh. He could try to start up the secretary’s computer and crawl through her files in hopes of finding something about the safe, but he had the sinking feeling it wouldn’t be that easy. He’d never get the safe open, and he could kiss all of Winner’s research and the artifact goodbye. Annoyed, he walked around the secretary’s desk once more. It was spotless clean, there wasn’t even any waste in her bin. Next to the keyboard of her computer was the wireless mouse, and a small wooden box that held two Waterman fountain pens. Next to that was a slender remote control, metallic gray. Duo shone his flashlight on it. It wasn’t hard to miss, and there was no TV in the room, nor a sound device. He picked it up and studied it, as he started to grin. He looked at the safe, still in view, and turned on the remote.
“Hilde, my dear…”
“Oh God…what illegal things are you going to ask from me now?”
“Nothing much…” Duo all but purred, walking back to the safe. “You brought your equalizer, didn’t you? Scan the building and lock onto the remote control I’m holding - I’m sure you can pick its signal up. Next, scan frequencies - when we hit the right one, the safe will open.”
“Duo, that can take forever,” Hilde complained, though he could hear the clicking of computer keys in the background. “Frequencies are a bitch to detect…”
“We have good equipment,” he said curtly, keeping the remote control aimed at the safe.
“I know,” Hilde whispered. She pursed her lips. She hadn’t build this particular piece of equipment all by herself, as she prefered working on gadgets. When Heero had still been involved with Duo, he had helped her, his technological insight had proven to be very valuable. She avoided naming him and adjusted her headset a little before turning on her equalizer and tuner, the equipment softly humming. “It’s scanning now…”
“Good.”
“Duo…”
“I know,” he answered and there was nothing but silence. He patiently waited, still alert for the guards. He didn’t have much time left, and everything depended on Hilde and how fast she’d be able to find the right frequency. She didn’t disappoint him. Suddenly, the remote beeped with a high tone and was echoed by a loud click; the door of the safe popped open.
He put the remote aside, made his way over to the safe again and pulled at the door, revealing the contents. The safe looked smaller on the outside than it was in reality; he had to reach all the way into the back to grab a bundle of papers. Duo eyed the bundle for a few seconds before stuffing it into his backpack. There was nothing left in the safe but a small box. That had to be the artifact. Duo reached for it again and held up the small box, checking it for carvings, or any other conspicuous markings. There were none, and he lifted the lid to take a better look inside. He had enough experience with artifacts to know that especially the smallest and ugliest ones often were the most powerful and most sought after, but this…tiny stick had even him baffled. This…this twig was a part of the Never-Ending Circle, an artifact supposed to rule over life and death? It looked fragile, puny and…not the least bit impressive. It was small, the length of a man’s finger, and it had a diameter of five centimeters, if not less. Was this some kind of stunt, or a practical joke? He did notice some ancient markings on the artifact as he held the box closer to his flashlight. It faintly rung a bell - the markings looked familiar somehow - but he didn’t have the time to carefully study it. Duo closed the safe, closed the box, stashed it into his backpack and quickly straightened himself, turning around to leave the room and -
“Holy fuck,” was all he said. One, maybe two millimetres closer and he would’ve been decapitated. The bright yellow colour of his flashlight was reflected blindingly in a perfectly polished and extremely sharp katana, its blade positioned with the tip against his throat. The wielder of the sword, a young Chinese man dressed in a white gi, stared intently at him.
“You have no business here,” he drawled slowly, as if speaking to a small child.
“I doubt you have any business here either, pal,” Duo answered dryly, moving his hands down slowly.
“Don’t try to reach for your guns,” the other said matter-of-factly. “You’ll lose your head faster than you can draw them.”
“Wanna bet?” Duo asked.
“Do not waste my time,” the other said curtly. He lifted up his hand, holding the katana in perfect balance with his other hand. The blade didn’t waver for a second when he switched hands. “Give me what you found in the safe.”
“No can do my friend, do your own dirty work,” Duo growled, his mind racing. Who the hell was this guy and what did he want with the Never-Ending Circle? The katana…Duo’s expert eye already told him that it was an authentic, traditional sword, not a cheap copy. From whose collection would that particular example have been stolen? This kind of weapon wasn’t for sale on just any corner of the street.
“Nice katana,” Duo tried, refraining from visibly swallowing. “Where did you swipe it from, or did you make it yourself?”
“Silence,” the other barked. “Give what you found in that safe to me. Now!”
“Don’t tell me you weren’t smart enough to figure out how to open it,” Duo mocked. Hilde was silent - the transmitter had picked up the other’s voice, and she knew he was in trouble. Maybe she was already starting up rescue plan B…but he couldn’t rely on her to come rescue him all the time. He was Duo Maxwell, damnit, not a damsel in distress.
“I suggest you should not find humor at the expense of my family’s honor,” the man said. “I do not kill for pleasure or for sport, only when it is really necessary. Do not make it necessary, Duo Maxwell.”
“That’s so very sweet of you,” Duo replied. How the hell does he know my name? “Get that sword out of my face, and then we’ll talk.”
“Dump the backpack,” the other snarled. “Give its contents to me. Whatever you obtained from the safe belongs to me and my clan.”
He adjusted the position of his hand and slowly moved the katana higher. The tip of the blade tapped against Duo’s chin. “I am fast,” the man hissed. “Do not try anything with me, or you will regret it.”
Duo took a small step backward, but the other followed him immediately, keeping the katana so close to him that it grazed his skin.
“Ouch!”
“Now!” The other reminded him.
The alarm, it suddenly dawned Duo. If he could stall for another six minutes, the alarm would detect a new presence in the building, not logged into the system, and it would be tripped. For some reason, he couldn’t imagine the other having gone through the trouble of logging in under another employee name. On the other hand, there was the loose, confident way he was standing, as if he had all the time in the world and as if he’d been here for a while, simply waiting for Duo to figure out to open the safe and claim its prize.
“Fine,” he huffed, and moved his shoulders as to shake off the straps. Deliberately taking his time, Duo sunk to the ground to open his backpack, his eyes not leaving the other.
“All right, I’m taking it out now…but you have to tell me why this belongs to you or your clan. Winner has done the research, made sure it was unearthed and claimed…”
“Winner is nothing but a fool,” his adversary interrupted. “He should not have messed with forces he did not understand, especially when life and death are involved.”
“Ah, so you believe in fairytales as well…”
“Give it to me, now.”
Duo took out the box, slowly. Damn. He should’ve switched the artifact immediately with something else, but he hadn’t expected to be surprised like this. He quickly let go of his idea to switch the artifact right now, knowing that he could be fast enough to pull it off. This person…his eyes were so intense, furiously intense, and Duo had to suppress a shudder. This was someone he shouldn’t cross, this was something he couldn’t bluff his way out of. He’d dealt with worse before, and he wasn’t about to lose an artifact for which he had gone through so much effort for, just to simply hand it over to someone who happened to wield a razor sharp katana. This was a commission, a commitment…his eyes lowered for a fraction of a second to get the box further out, and he felt the blade scrape along his neck again.
“Don’t get any ideas.”
“Jeez, I already shaved this morning. Have a little patience…”
The stranger waved his hand in front of his face. “Give it to me, right now. Stay out of this. It is going way over your head.”
“You’re fucking repetitive,” Duo snorted, reluctantly putting the box into the other’s hand, fingers still clutching at it. “Whatever you’re planning to do…”
A sudden pain exploded through his body, a short, but blunt strike at the joint of his shoulder and neck, his head feeling heavy within a matter of seconds.
“Wha…?” was the only thing he said before darkness claimed him, his limbs feeling heavy, not obeying his body anymore. As his eyes rolled into the back of his head, Duo wavered and toppled over, falling into a boneless heap on the floor.
Holy fuck… He groaned, the throbbing pain paralyzing him, disorientating him. Duo tried to open his eyes, but found it impossible to do so. What was going on? He parted his lips, wanting to speak - his voice was hoarse, and he made an unidentifiable sound, unable to form coherent sentences. The noises he heard were strange to him, and his mind was trying to puzzle the pieces together. There was one thing he immediately recognized, though - the thrumming sound of an engine. He was moving, he was being transported. A car, train, boat?
“Shh, Duo, it’s okay,” a female voice whispered, close to his ear. It was Hilde’s - his brain fortunately wasn’t that fogged or sluggish to not recognize the voice of one of his best friends. His lips curled into a vague smile, a smile of relief. Smacking his lips, he wanted to speak her name, but decided against it - not only didn’t he trust his voice, but she also put her finger on his lips, shushing him. As long as he didn’t know what exactly was going on, he had to trust her - and Hilde was loyal and reliable, so he didn’t protest. It didn’t take long before a cup of water was pressed against his lips and he parted them, welcoming the taste of the cool liquid.
She took the cup away, even though he would’ve loved to have had some more. Reclining into the pillows, Duo tried once again to determine where he was. Hilde was close to him and she wasn’t panicked. Someone was driving whatever vehicle he was in, and he wasn’t tied down; he was lying on a small bed, his arms crossed over his chest. Carefully, he moved his limbs, groaning as he felt the heavy weight of his steel-toed boots. There were blankets piled on him rather sloppily. He didn’t feel pain anywhere, no broken limbs or ribs as far as he could tell - there was a small concentration of pain at the base of his neck, radiating through his shoulder and upper right arm, and a burning sensation in his lungs. The next second, he started to cough violently, body jerking on the small bed.
“It’s all right Duo, here, take this…”
Blindly, he reached for the one talking to him, grabbing Hilde close to her chest. She yelped and almost threw the cup of water in his face.
“Duo!”
“Jezus fuck!”
“Duo, calm down!” She placed her hands against his shoulders and pushed him firmly back. “Lie down. There’s nothing to get worked up about - you inhaled lots of smoke, and God knows how long you’ve been lying there…”
“How long…what?”
“Drink some water first. Here.”
Once again a cup of deliciously cool water was put against his lips and he drank greedily, droplets spilling down his chin. The liquid was burning his throat, but he kept drinking, emptying the cup. His memory abandoned him at the moment; he couldn’t recall anything about smoke - the building hadn’t been on fire, had it? Coughing again, he longed for sleep, hours and hours of sleep… Frowning, he forced himself to open his eyes, cursing loudly again when they immediately started to tear and thick drops of salty liquid dribbled over his cheeks.
“It’s all right.” Hilde’s voice again, repeating the same words over and over again, “you’re going home. We’ve taken care of everything.”
“Aww, fuck,” Duo said and smothered the rest of a rather colorful string of expletives in the thick cotton towel she handed him, unable to keep his eyes from tearing up.
“We?” he finally managed to croak out.
“Yes, we. Yo, Duo!”
“You can’t be serious!” His voice was back to squeaky and high-pitched, like a kid who had just hit puberty, and he cringed visibly. “Is that you, Howard?”
“Can’t talk now kid, I’m driving,” the man all but sang cheerfully, sounding as if he had the time of his life. To Howard, this was probably the time of his life.
“Catch yourself some sleep, kid,” he continued, “you need it. Your eyes are going to be sensitive due to the shit they’ve thrown around. Common reaction to teargas.”
“Teargas? What the hell?”
“In the office,” Hilde explained. “We were able to get you out of there by posing as rescue workers. I knew you were in trouble when I heard the other guy’s voice, and Howard was the only one I could think of. When I called him, the alarm in the building went off - not the security alarm, but the fire alarm. As soon as the firemen arrived, we went in and immediately to the top floor. We found you there, out cold, with the teargas…”
“Just great,” Duo said, voice muffled by the towel. He felt like bawling his eyes out - the stinging was horrible, and his pounding headache didn’t help either.
Howard…he should’ve known the man would help him even if it was in the middle of the night. The man had worked for his father and had proven himself to be very resourceful and dependable, and just as loyal and trustworthy as Hilde. If there was anyone able to get someone out of an impossible situation, it was Howard.
Hilde rubbed over his back. “You have to give your eyes some rest now, Duo,” she said. “Dabbing at them with the towel is only irritating. Lie back, try to get some sleep. We’re on our way to Maxwell manor, I’ve already called Hillary.”
It was almost as if he could hear her smile - not that she was laughing at him about the situation, but because of genuine relief that everyone was safe and sound. Hilde had been one of the closest friends to stand around Solo’s grave, and though she gave herself for the full 100%, there was always that hint of worry and fear that something could go wrong. She didn’t want to say farewell to another Maxwell… Heaving a sigh, Duo allowed himself to be tucked in, the rough towel being replaced by a cool cloth to cover his eyes. Starting to feel relaxed, Duo drifted off, knowing that he was in safe hands.
He wrapped his fingers around the large mug, greedily inhaling the scent of coffee. Duo carefully took a sip, almost burning his tongue, while he watched Hillary serve his guests their drink of choice.
“I can’t thank the both of you enough,” he said again. “Only you can pull it off to pose as rescue workers to get me out of a tight situation.” He rubbed at his eyes. They were all red and puffy as if he’d been crying for nights to no end - despite the more than ten hours of sleep he had, it hadn’t lifted their sensitivity. Duo squinted a little; it was rather dark in the room as Hillary had closed all the curtains. The butler had chosen for one of the darkest, stuffiest, and terribly old-fashioned rooms to receive guests - it had been one of Duo’s father’s treasured rooms. His impressive book collection on historical and archaeological matters was displayed in heavy oak cabinets, a prize collection that made every museum drool. Duo hated everything about this room, feeling as if he was locked up in a cage. However, the dark colours and dim light were better for his sensitive eyes at the moment.
Howard nodded, wearing his ridiculous sunglasses even inside the manor, as well as his Hawaiian t-shirt, the bright colors screaming enough to discern them from the dark background.
“Your eyes will need some time to recover,” he said, holding a cup of tea that had more milk in it than tea. He stirred the concoction, all but licking his lips in anticipation. “Teargas is a hideous bitch.”
“Any idea who could’ve done this to you?” Hilde sat on one of the couches, perched on the armrest; she was nursing a hot chocolate with whipped cream.
“We found you unconscious on the floor, an empty can of teargas next to the safe. You could’ve been in a lot of trouble if we hadn’t gotten you out of there in time.”
“Never change a winning team,” Duo muttered, sipping his coffee again. “I’m not really sure about who did it. He was of Asian decent, that was pretty obvious.” But why the can of teargas?
“It wasn’t Heero, was it? If he was, then I’ll choke the life outta him…”
“Howard, please,” Duo said dismissively, but he was unable to hide a small smile. No matter how much time had passed, they immediately picked up where they had left off. Howard wasn’t a violent person, but he could get carried away in certain situations - and one of these situations being his ‘son’ ending up hurt. Though the elder man had never said it out loud, Duo knew he was regarding him as his son - Howard and Maxwell Sr. had worked together in their younger years. Duo owed lots of his training and the development of his skills to Howard. The man had even trained Solo when he started to get interested in the active field of archaeology. The heavy burden of guilt on his shoulders when Solo died was so great that both Duo and Howard didn’t know how to deal with it. They fell out of contact soon after his funeral, only staying in touch with a very occasional e-mail…it was good and comforting to know the man was still willing to immediately come to the rescue. Secretly, Duo didn’t expect it to be any otherwise; Howard was just as stubborn as him.
“It wasn’t Heero. He wasn’t tall, more like my height, dressed in traditional white gi…”
“You mean keikogi?” Howard interrupted.
“Yes, definitely, but I don’t know which martial arts. Besides, the guy seemed more of Chinese decent than Japanese…it was a little long for a gi anyway…”
“Go on.”
“Black hair, tied back in a ponytail, ebony eyes…very intense, very angry eyes. As if he was spitting on me for taking that artifact. He kept insisting that it was his, and for his clan. Oh yeah, that I should stay out of this, as I was getting way over my head…”
“As always,” Howard snorted, but it sounded almost affectionate. It made Duo want to stick out his tongue at him, and he did so, eliciting a childish giggle from Hilde.
“In all seriousness now,” she abruptly ended her giggle fit, “whoever it was, we can try to identify him. I can set up access to local, international and federal databanks to sift through. Who knows, if he has ever had a brush with the police, we can find him.”
“Agreed,” was Duo’s answer, before he lost himself in his thoughts. The man had addressed him by name, and knew he was carrying guns, even though the flashlight had shone directly into his face. It had been impossible to see the rest of his body, let alone the guns. Duo couldn’t recall much but being knocked out, and he had the bruise to prove it. He was very sure though, that the other hadn’t carried anything like teargas. Something else must’ve happened after he had lost consciousness, but it eluded him as to what exactly.
“Damn, you got yourself one hell of a commission.” Howard’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts. Duo put his cup aside, not really surprised that the man had found the Winner laptop and was reading through the notes at his leisure. Duo wasn’t in the least offended by Howard’s actions; he knew he had only the best intentions, and it only added to his own feelings of guilt for not keeping in touch with the man. It stuck to him like a tarnished wound - Duo had been so caught up with his own feelings after his brother’s death that he’d failed so see the grief and sadness of those around him.
Curling up on the couch, Duo nodded. “The Never-Ending Circle.”
Howard whistled. Hilde looked at him over the rim of her mug.
“What’s that?”
“It’s all to be found in Winner Sr.’s notes,” Duo said, pointing at the laptop. “I was commissioned by his son, Quatre, to retrieve the research and a part of the artifact - the first part has been uncovered already, the second one hasn’t been found yet. Indications about its location are probably in the other part of the research.”
“Obviously, there are more people after it,” Hilde stated.
“No shit. I thought the artifact was just a rumour, like so many, its myth being so vague that I didn’t give it any priority or second thought.”
Howard was scrolling through the text, his fingers touching the screen every now and then.
“Winner might’ve been overly naïve in some ways, but he wasn’t far off with this,” he said. “I think he attributed the right theory and thoughts to the artifact - that the Never-Ending Circle isn’t a ring or any round object, but the instrument of the God, or any other entity of Death.”
“It was some sort of staff in a box,” Duo snorted. “If it were to have a round head and a little thicker, it would make a nice dildo.”
“Wouldn’t you know.” Hilde made a face, though it was hard for her to suppress her laughter.
“Moron,” Howard said out loud and the sunglasses slid a little over the bridge of his nose, revealing his eyes glittering with mirth. He turned serious again quickly, tapping at the laptop.
“You didn’t read up on everything, did you? Here…Winner’s theory could be very much the right one. A circle has no end, goes round and round, thus is never-ending. This circle in particular represents the continuous cycle of life and death. Every life ends with death, and from every death there’s the birth of a new beginning, life.”
“How can life be born from death?”
Howard shrugged. “Isn’t it a part of every religion, to believe that after death there’s a new beginning? If you believe in reincarnation, you start a new life after you die…”
“That’s not reincarnation, that’s recycling!”
“Duo…every new life lifts you to a higher plane, of course. I’m not a specialist on religion, but well, people who believe in God believe they join Him in His kingdom after they die. The eternal life - and thus, life after death, never-ending circle.”
“But one should have to die and die again to start a new life and thus start a circle…”
“You have to see the bigger picture, Hilde, and it’s of course just a myth…like so many.”
“It’s interesting,” Duo said, shifting in his seat. “The question is, to which mythology is the Never-Ending Circle tied to?” he asked, tilting his head a little. “Roman, Asian, European…?”
“I think Asian, but that would require me to dig deeper into the material. Winner Sr. made quite the assumptions and he’s rather off with certain points, but his theory does hold some strong arguments. I really think his theory is the best so far.”
“The dildo was found close to Cuba, though.”
“Would you please refer to it as a ‘staff’?” Howard asked dryly. “And you, Duo Maxwell, should know better than anyone about the mysterious ways artifacts can travel, and can end up on the complete other side of the world. Call it Destiny or Fate, then. Here…” He turned the laptop around, “Winner Sr. is trying to prove here that the Never-Ending Circle, as it represents life and death, is in fact a scythe. The staff and the blade are the two components of the scythe.”
“The scythe of the Grim Reaper,” Hilde breathed.
“The God of Death,” Duo supplied.
“Shinigami.”
“Shinigami. But that’s one God of Death only.”
Hilde threw them both a confused look.
“So…this Shinigami has lost his scythe or something?”
“That’s how it’s been told in certain myths,” Howard continued. “Shinigami, or any God of Death, is one of the eldest and most primal gods of any world. Death is simply everywhere, a part of life, a part of every cycle. Death can’t be escaped, it’s just…there. The earliest portrayals of any God of Death depict him with a scythe, using it to reap the souls, so people would die. Without death, there can’t be any life. Like I said, I have to dig into the material and study local and specific folklore, but I’m sure there has to be some kind of myth or legend out there of Shinigami losing his scythe.”
“The God of Death being tricked,” Hilde nodded. “Just like how Demeter tried to get her daughter back from Hades, or how Psyche was almost allowed to return to the world of the living…but what could have caused the scythe to split up in two, and how are we going to find the second part?”
“Winner Sr. was kind enough to provide us with the first part,” Duo said.
Howard grinned.
“…and kind enough to provide us with enough material to find the second part,” he continued. “It’ll take some time, but if we follow his train of thoughts, I think we can locate the blade after all.”
“The staff was found close to Cuba,” Duo repeated, rubbing again at his eyes, hissing softly as he felt it still stinging. “The blade of the scythe could be there, but I take it Winner Sr. had the place combed. I haven’t got a fucking clue where the blade could be, especially since we don’t know where and how it broke in the first place. There’s no record or document whatsoever about that.”
“Maybe it didn’t split voluntarily,” Hilde suggested. “Who knows how long it lied at the bottom of the sea before Winner Sr. dug it up - forces of nature could’ve done their work, or maybe someone willingly broke the scythe in two, as to keep people from trying to wield it.”
“I’m sure some strange, magical power will be attributed to it,” Duo said, looking around to see if Hillary had left something to eat, despite having had breakfast just a few hours ago. “As in, whoever completes the scythe and wields it, will have power over life and death?”
“I guess so.” Howard pursed his lips. “People seek the fountain of youth, the mystery of eternal life, so why not the power over life and death itself? It’s good enough of a reason for a lot of people to give it a try. Imagine what you can do if you can decide over one’s life, or life in general? Power like that in the wrong hands could destroy all of mankind.”
Hilde shivered, suddenly losing interest in her hot chocolate. “But aren’t humans above that now? Look at where we are - we have every bit of technology at our disposal, we have a logical or a scientific explanation for everything. We build space ships and colonies and we travel through stars, racing past the sun, we know every corner of every country…”
“We’re nothing in the eyes of Gods and monsters,” Howard muttered. “We fought like barbarians; we still fight like Neanderthals, only we now have laser beams and Gatling guns instead of clubs and rocks. All this modern technology, and what do we do with it? We build space colonies to escape our overcrowded Earth, and we have the gall to act surprised when conflicts rise there as well, perfectly mirroring the world we tried to leave behind.”
“And as long as there are still people who don’t hesitate to abuse others, and hold their own gain over others…”
“It can’t be all bleak and grim like this,” Hilde objected. “Anyway, even if you have the power to rule over life and death...what’s there to gain? Eternal life for everyone? Death is an essential part of life. You can’t stop it or rule over it.”
“It could be possible if you have the complete scythe,” Duo mused. “That’s the point of this discussion. With the Never-Ending Circle complete in your hands, you can wield the scythe at your own will, cutting the life thread of anyone you want to, and make sure the ones you love will never die.”
“That’s playing God.”
“Exactly. And if you’re a rotten apple, you can use that power to gain more power, establish a nice war and make billions out of the warfare. Just an example. I don’t think this is what Winner Sr. had in mind, though.”
Howard shook his head. “What I gather from this is that the man simply wanted to uncover the artifact, in an attempt to triumph over his adversaries and over the people who have misjudged and abused him. By finding the Never-Ending Circle and presenting it to the archaeological world, they would have to take him seriously, and it would recover some of his name and status. I don’t think he ever considered the implications of the artifact…”
“Or the consequences.”
“What consequences?” Hilde asked.
“Some artifacts are better left alone,” Duo said, slightly bitter. “Some aren’t meant to be uncovered, or brought outside the place they’ve been hiding in. The myths surrounding them are there for a reason - they serve as some kind of warning, but especially nowadays people see it rather as a challenge than a warning. Sometimes powers are involved, forces you can’t name or ever held for possible.”
“You’re the one to know,” Hilde nodded. “You’ve seen some of it first-hand. I’m only the one behind the scenes.”
Duo threw her a grateful smile and stretched, shifting his legs around.
“It still leaves us with an unknown Chinese warrior with a katana who has taken the staff from me and the second part of Winner Sr.’s research. I have to call Quatre and tell him all about it. He’ll probably be informed about it already, but I want to give him my version of the story. The true version, not the version of some gossiping, speculating tabloid. Then, we have to work our asses off to retrieve both parts of the artifact and keep anyone from joining the pieces.”
“I thought so too,” Howard said. “Good for you I’ve got quite the time on my hands…”
“Time enough to do this kind of work again, old man?”
“Who are you calling old?” Howard snorted. “I was digging up tombs while you were still running around in your diapers!”
“That’s what I mean, old,” Duo teased, head snapping to the right because he heard the door open. He had to squint his eyes immediately because of the light, but Hillary closed the door quickly behind him, carrying a new tray of refreshments, with the newspaper stacked neatly on top of it.
“My apologies, Master Maxwell,” he said, “but I think there is an article in today’s newspaper that you simply must see.”
Duo lifted the newspaper off the tray, grinning as his helpful and handy butler had put a magnifying glass on top of the newspaper so he wouldn’t have to strain his eyes to read the article. Blinking, he took up the magnifier and stared at the article.
“Treize Khushrenada is about to throw a party for the Romefeller Foundation?”
“Actually, Master Maxwell, it’s the annual charity ball of the aforementioned Foundation, and the veritable highlight of the high society. Not only is everyone with a name in the archaeological world invited, but also celebrities, officials, influential people. If I may remind you, which I will be doing anyway, you receive an invitation every year as well, Master Maxwell.”
“Don’t tell me…” Duo stared at him.
“I expect it to be delivered either today or tomorrow.”
“Into the lion’s den?” Howard grinned.
“Hey, have I been known to do anything else?” Duo objected. He laughed a little, about to put the newspaper away when he suddenly stiffened. His grip on the magnifier became painfully tight as he leaned over the large printed picture next to the article. Howard frowned and exchanged a confused look with Hilde. Hillary busied himself with bustling about with the dishes and the new refreshments, quite curious as to what Duo was doing.
“What are you looking at, Duo?” Hilde finally asked, her voice bewildered.
“I’ll be damned,” he said softly. Howard stood up from his chair and closed the distance between them, looking over Duo’s shoulder to see what got him all worked up. It was a picture of Khushrenada, waving to people, on his way to some kind of club he was reported to have visited ‘until after midnight’. The main focus on the picture was Khushrenada himself of course, with impeccably groomed hair, bangs carefully styled to frame his high brow. A large part of his entourage had been captured on the picture as well - to his left was Zechs Merquise, platinum blond hair tied back in a messy ponytail, behind them some burly bodyguards, and behind them…
Howard squinted his eyes, noticing the Asian features of the person standing completely to the left, wearing a white gi.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he repeated. “Is that the guy who attacked you?”
Hillary stopped his work and Hilde made her way over them as well, so everyone was leaning over Duo’s shoulders, all trying to look at the picture.
“He can barely be seen…”
“He’s a part of Khushrenada’s entourage,” Duo said, voice brimming with anger. “The bastards! They want us to do the dirty work and as soon as we’re finished, step up to the plate and claim the honor and credit for themselves. Quatre told me that his father entrusted Khushrenada and Merquise with the execution of his fieldwork, naming him the chief executive officer, in charge of unearthing the artifact. Khushrenada had access to everything, equipment, funds, you name it. He was the closest to everyone and everything, and it was all taken away from him when Winner died. I bet my life’s worth that Khushrenada’s interested in the Never-Ending Circle himself, and it must’ve been quite the blow to him that Iria Winner shut his work down, depriving him from finding the second part.”
“Are you sure?” Hilde asked, hesitant. “Isn’t that a little too far-fetched..?”
“Work your magic fingers for me.” Duo grinned as he rolled up the newspaper and tapped her on the shoulder with it. “Scan the picture, enlarge it and see if you can work with it to get a good shot, so we can identify the guy.”
“Sure thing!” She showed her impish, tomboyish grin and took the newspaper from him.
“What are your plans, boss?” Howard perked up again. Back into business. Just like the old days. Duo’s grin became menacingly wide.
“First of all, this year I am going to Khushrenada’s charity event to meet the man myself. I want to find out what his weak points are, I want to know how he does business, how he’s organized, what all these people are doing around him. Hilde, I want layouts of everything concerning the location of the ball: escape routes, access routes, everything. I want you and Howard to keep researching the Never-Ending Circle and dig through every little wad of paper to find out if someone else has done research on it. Check the international databases for the identity of the Chinese guy, and get any piece of information you can get on Khushrenada and his Romefeller cronies. Keep me up to date at all times. Howard, you’re on stand by for everything. Hillary, I want to wear Armani.”
“At your orders, sir!” The three of them chorused, and Hilde mock-saluted, joined by Howard.
“Get lost,” Duo laughed. “I’ve given you your orders, now I get to rest. Shoo!” He sure hoped his eyes were back to normal before the ball, otherwise he would look ridiculous.