Breakfast comes with tea, hardened bread, sour apples and crumbled slices of cheese. Milk is strictly reserved for the youngest children and pregnant women. The elder children are allowed to hunt for food on their own, as long as they don’t wander away too far from the Underground. The only rule I impose is following the lessons I give in stealth and stealing- yeah, I teach those kids to steal and remain unnoticed. L2 is not exactly a shopping paradise and food is sold on black markets and on display of food stamps issued by the government. If you don’t have a legit identification, you can forget about food. Our pretty fucking government has cooked up this identification and food distribution thing as to "make sure all supplies get equally shared", but it’s in fact to keep a better control over the citizens. By issuing name-related food stamps they have to register you and they know who you are. I wonder how the looks on their faces would be if I would register for their precious paper work. It takes them fucking weeks to process any request and everything gets checked three to four times. Stupid assholes. I teach the kids to steal only from merchants and shopkeepers collaborating wholeheartedly with the Alliance. There is no need to shoplift those who are brave enough to sell under the counter, provided they’re not asking absurd prices. Everybody goes out together in groups; one of the basic rules is that it’s dangerous to be on your own. No stealing from Alliance storage bases either; they shoot at you. They shoot at kids. I’ve got the scars to prove it.
I have never been at an university and I wouldn’t have known how it would work, but this room was obviously some cafeteria, as Quatre explained once to me. We all share our food, no matter how it is obtained. Sally has meticulously set up a schedule rotating everybody from food-shopping (standing hours and hours in line to get food on forged or illegal purchased food stamps), cleaning (keeping everything in order and stored away in chance of a raid) or doing chores varying from babysitting to helping Sally in the sickbay or one of the guys. Nobody joins the Underground without pulling his or her own weight, also a basic rule taught to me by Solo. It’s nice to be in a group where sharing is normal and strengthening bonds, but it’s also necessary. People are looking at me when I take my place in line and I have to wave and greet some; meanwhile searching the crowd for more familiar faces. Two girls nudge me forward, wanting to take over their place. Before I can refuse, someone taps me on the shoulder. It’s Wufei.
"Maxwell, care to join me?"
"Wufei, good to see you," I smile. "You disappeared on me yesterday."
He doesn’t smile and his face is void of any emotion. Not good. Without exchanging a word he waits patiently until I have collected my portion and he follows me, still silent, to a large table.
"Maxwell, is everything okay? Do I get a briefing from the meeting?"
"Yes, yes," I answer and he scowls. "Where were you anyway? Is something going on?"
His eyes turn sad. "Noventa."
"I am sorry," I offer him some consolation, but he is too proud to accept it.
"Meiran is with Sylvia. The poor girl. Her grandfather was all she had left."
"Noventa was an example for us all," I venture, genuinely touched by the man’s death. "He was a great negotiator and spokesman for peace."
Wufei fidgets with his wedding ring. "Maxwell, we have to make sure that it will be known that Noventa died of natural causes."
I agree. "The last thing we need are false accusations and more stigmata. I will talk to Quatre about it- he knows a lot of people who can spread the word."
"Thanks." He really looks relieved.
We sit at one of the largest tables. It still boggles me that this had been an university. The thought baffles me that this cafeteria used to be full with children, enjoying their youth, babbling and playing and eager to learn. Children properly clothed, fed and loved. I blink.
"Come to the conference room," I tell him. "We need to discuss a lot of things. Dangerous things."
He raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"We better talk with the others. Sally is also coming."
He agrees and finishes his tea with a bitter scowl on his face. I know he would give a kingdom for the original tea from his home colony, just as I would die for a proper shower and some real, hot food instead of this crumbling chemical... crap. There is no other word for it.
We rise and clear our plates. On our way out he bows to me.
"We would love to have you for a more private dinner once," he says. "Meiran has been saving sugar and flour for some time now to bake you a pie."
"That would be very nice," I laugh. "Knowing Meiran, it would be a huge pie."
A tight smile graces his features. "It would be a huge honor."
"Sure." I squash a self-deprecating thought. "Wufei, I.."
"Take care of yourself, Maxwell." The way he says it, it almost sounds like a threat. I resist the urge to make a joke of it – I have heard this tone of voice before and know from experience that joking now would not be a good idea. He waits for me to lead the way to the conference room, his silent acceptance of my leadership. Some leadership. You’re pushing everybody away and still they are coming back. Why?
We gather in the conference room to watch the daily news. The official –and only- broadcasting channel is a by the government controlled one with the flashing name of "L2 News". We all ache to be on air with our own newscast someday and show the world and the whole fucking universe how things really are taking place on L2. A big part of our difficulties is due to the cover up from the government, the false propaganda they have been spreading and misleading the citizens. Quatre told me once that government officials are painstakingly trying to give a good, wagging-like-a-dog’s-tail image of the colony who has dared, dares and always will dare to stand up against the Alliance because they’re afraid the same Alliance will cut their funding. It could be true; the L1 colony kissed major Alliance ass and has been rewarded with a nice and stable economy and fair prosperity. I don’t care. I only want to kick Alliance ass. I don’t want to pay for artificial prosperity by seeing a mobile suit in every street I walk on, by being forced to ‘learn’ about the greatness and majesty of the Alliance, by crawling and by wondering if my neighbor next door was collaborating or not. That isn’t freedom. Freedom is to walk around the streets without fear, without the constant presence of a military force. Without these Gundams...
"Good morning all," I chirp and receive a collective "Good morning!" back. Satisfied, I look around in the room; everybody is already there. Sally waves to Wufei and he pretends not to see it. Those two can be pretty bratty; their discussions rise with their temperature but always guarantee good conversation. Quatre informs Wufei of the news of the Gundams and as soon as Professor G hands him the designs of the Shenlong Gundam, he pales.
"The bastards!" He screams. "How dare they make a mockery out of this? What are they thinking by designing monstrous machines like this? And this, this design is an offense to our culture and clan! We are a proud people, rich by tradition and this.. this machine.." Almost choking, he throws away the papers. "Idiots! Weaklings! Building machines to control people, the bastards! They won’t fight us face to face, they need huge machines to trample.."
"Wufei, that’s enough," Sally interrupts. "We need to talk about a solution for these.. Gundams, not letting our emotions take control."
He starts objecting but before an overheated discussion can start, Trowa cuts it off.
"Vice Foreign Minister Darlian and his daughter Relena are coming here."
He doesn’t speak with much intonation, but I can hear the turmoil behind every word. In all those years I have come to know him, I have learned how to interpret the slightest shift in his voice. He is also shocked by the news of the Gundams, I can tell. There is a lot more going on behind those observing eyes than people give him credit for. The same people who would call his voice "monotone". Not me.
"Here?" Wufei snorts, attention hardly diverted.
"Not here, here as in "L2" here, " I smack him lightly upside the head. "His Excellency Doo-Dah won’t be visiting lower scum villainy suburbs like the Underground. We don’t want to him, otherwise he would be givin’ our hideout away."
"It’ll be too dirty for him and his prissy daughter. Prissy pink daughter. No way, they won’t be setting foot on this soil!"
I snicker. Wufei has been successfully diverted. Trowa shrugs and continues to tinker with the reception of the antennae. We haven’t seen any dignitary or representative of the government in the presence of the Underground for years, let alone cops or medical personnel. I sigh. The Underground is a perfect place to hide.. and a perfect place to die. No one would notice, unless they were a part of us, the Maxwell’s Demon gang as we are called. I tap on the tabletop. Something’s out of place here. Trowa usually doesn’t voice trivialities without a reason, a very good reason.
"Why?" I finally ask.
"You can’t blame him for trying. Darlian is one of the most involved ministers, someone who actually cares. He attends another economy summit meeting next week, hoping to establish a fair trade zone between L2 and the colonies, for starters."
"A fair trade zone for what? Our national product? They want to swap whores or diseases or something?" It’s out of my mouth before I have the chance to think it over.
Wufei opens his mouth to give me a lecture on bad language, but he shuts up when a loud crackling disturbs the atmosphere. The reception is bad, very bad. Trowa has done all he could and man, there is nothing he can’t repair or adjust. I watch the hissing and crackling static screen. Quatre sits besides me and focuses on the t.v..
We hit the daily news - a reporter is babbling about the Vice Foreign Minister and his upcoming visit, showing images of the man shaking hands with representatives of the government. Quatre tugs at my sleeve. I observe the screen. While the reporter talks about some official lunch, the camera zooms in on Darlian who is accompanied by his daughter. The girl has a dazzling smile and the confidence of a well protected, never-anything-denied and used-to-getting-her-way personality. Next to her, a little to the side and half behind her stands a bodyguard or boyfriend. My eyes glue automatically on him. He has the slender, but lean and strong built of someone used to train intensively. He is taller than the girl, Asian decent if I’m not mistaken, dressed in a sober, grey suit. His sharp eyes daze around to absorb protectively the environment. Nothing escapes his eyes and for a moment he stares full fledged at the t.v. camera. Stares right at me. The next moment the camera sways away from him, but his look is imprinted in my mind. The intensity of his eyes takes my breath away. Quatre tugs at my sleeve again.
"What?"
"Did you see the girl?"
"Yes, what about her?"
He hesitates. "After you went to bed, we talked a bit more about the situation. We don’t want to give the Alliance the opportunity to build these Gundams. They pose too much of a threat and we can’t deal with them once they are finished."
"I see." Sally comes towards me with coffee and I thank her for the mug full of caffeine liquid. Ah, the brown slosh warms me immediately.
"What does the girl has to do with it?" I ask.
"It’s just a plan," Professor G defends the remark. "Maybe she can serve our cause."
"How? She is a snooty girl. She has been here before and she was not a bit satisfied with the sheets in the hotel. Sheets I tell you!"
"I’m not talking about winning her for our cause, but to use her."
"You want to kidnap Darlian’s daughter?" I’m not stupid. I can make connections.
The professor studies the lay out drawings of the tentative Gundams with accuracy.
"Maybe."
"Kidnapping Darlian’s daugther won’t take the danger of the Gundams away," I sneer.
"We can only stall the build of the Gundams," he answers. "By kidnapping the girl we can demand attention to the situation. We can ask for broadcasting time, announcing the news of the Gundams and the plans of the Alliance."
Rebel groups aren’t exactly happy with suitcases of cash. Money is worth nothing on L2.
"And what if the authorities don’t do a thing about it?"
"I hardly think they can let it go and sit it out. Darlian is too high esteemed and valued by the respective governments. They won’t."
"It will lead to an international scandal if the L2 government doesn’t take action," Quatre picks up the discussion, "Darlian will throw a tantrum, of course. It’s his daughter who.."
"No. It’s not an option."
"Quatre and I are going to discuss it, whatever you may think," G says without a change of tone.
"Think about it all you want," I spit out a bit too unfriendly, "I don’t think our cause is anything better off with that girl. Too many ifs and buts."
Quatre looks at me as if he is in great pain somewhere. I love the guy, really I do, but sometimes these heart-wrenching looks he gives me are working on my nerves. I finish my coffee and put the mug down on the battered tabletop.
"Any more news?"
"I like a word with you, Maxwell," Wufei is quick to say. I bet he sees a lot of opportunity in this.. kidnapping proposal to prove his skills. I rub my temples. I need to teach some more children, think of a way to get more medication for the little sick ones, have to contemplate those Gundams and.. have to get away to my little place. My perfect place in my mind, my Wonderland. Just for a bit of rest. Just to think how it could be different. If only.. if only there was not so much to do. I realize a silence has fallen and look up.
"You don’t need my stinkin’ approval," I snarl. Trowa crosses his arms in front of his chest.
"You better get some more rest, Duo. Quatre and G are going to discuss details about the Darlian kidnapping."
"You’ve talked about this before." I sound disappointed, a bit indignant. I have to ask him if he was yesterday in the building I was about to blow up too.
Sally looks up. She has been leafing through the Gundam designs silently.
"You’re not going to do this alone, Duo. You always go out alone, giving us some bullshit crap about not leaving someone behind. Don’t you think you are wrong? We are your family and if you die I don’t know what will happen.. but it will be bad."
"Death cannot die," I joke lamely. Great, all I need is another round of "think-about-a-partner-and-you’re-not-going-alone" crap.
Sally doesn’t buy it for a second. "Quit it. You are the thriving force behind this group. We need you, Duo. Please don’t think we are not your family. We are!"
"I know, Sally, I know." I smile. "Thank you."
"Everybody is more than willing to help you. We can’t stand seeing you bear this alone. We understand that you want to protect us but you have taught us to take care of ourselves. We need you to be here Duo, we need you to lead this group and to fight for freedom. How often do we have to say this?"
"After I’m dead you will be in command," I say rather bluntly and I have a second to marvel where that remark came from, when Sally almost decks me.
"Don’t ever say that!" Her eyes flare. "Stop that!"
I really hate these emotional outbursts. I know everyone is under a lot of pressure. I thought I had made my stand clear a long time ago; they are talking about my ‘not-leaving-anybody-behind-bullshit’ as they call it, and I obviously can’t make them see that I do not want anybody left behind. It’s the only way. And even so, I kill everyone next to me, right Shinigami?
A bit pissed I turn my attention to Wufei.
"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
"The same as what Sally said and some more." He eyes me. "Like she said, everybody is more than willing to help you. Trowa and me, for instance. We can take some of the missions you always carry out alone."
"You are married," I grit between my teeth. I feel the sneer. "Not ever I am going to tell a woman that she has to raise her child alone or that her husband ain’t coming back!"
"Meiran could have died before you found us. Would that make a difference? If I was alone, would you let me be your partner, to back you up? You are strong, Maxwell, but even the strongest sometimes need to take a step back, to let other strong people take over."
"I’m not leaving anybody.. behind.." It’s out of my mouth before I can think it over. Sally shakes her head.
"You’ll leave us behind. Try to trust us more, Duo. We have depended on you for a long time. Try to depend on us for a while."
"The last one who told me to depend on him was Solo and he sure is not around." I cross my arms in an imitation of Trowa’s posture. "He is dead."
Shinigami kills. I was the one to give Death a face. My face. The last thing Solo saw in his fever fit was my face bending over him and he called me. He called Shinigami and he came.
"This meeting is closed." I rise. My black coat rushes and I leave the room before anyone can object. Not that they would have objected. One look at my face was enough to shut them up.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3