The classes in the university building are perfectly for exercising their old function; the children here get education in things we know and can teach ourselves. Teaching them about life. They don’t get nice study books, we learn them how to tell an Alliance officer from a rebel officer and what our goals are. They learn the basic things as counting, dividing, multiplying, reading and some writing. I haven’t written in years. I wonder if I could write the Latin alphabet Father Maxwell taught me. I know bits and pieces of hymns sister Helen used to sing. I even had lessons in organ and piano. And of course the never ending discussions about The Bible and God. The God he believed in, solid as a rock, an unshakable belief when the shatters of reality splintered around in the church. A church where people sought and found shelter, only to be burnt to..
"Duo, are you going to tease us?"
I have to look down to see who is tugging at my pants. It’s a kid who I teach; a little brat with a lot of brutality. His friends must be somewhere around, as usually encouraging him to test his limits.
"Tease? Why should I tease you?"
"You know, stilts stuff," he beams at me. "Sneaking around, ‘member?"
"You mean teach us and stealth stuff," I grin. "Haven’t been paying much attention to your grammar classes, right?"
"School stinks," the kid huffs, "when I grow up, I wanna be jus’ like you, Duo. Always going outside and living so many adventures."
"You’ll learn," I say and ruffle the mop of hair. His eyes are blue, but not half as blue as the eyes of the Darlian’s bodyguard. I’m sure they were blue, despite the fuzzy image.
Most grown-ups skip lunch as to save food for dinnertime. Children of course get something to eat; it’s just the way the families living here divide their food rations over the day. My stomach is used to the long period between breakfast and dinner, but there is always someone bringing me something. I usually accept because I’m hungry and don’t want to hurt their feelings. I’m hesitant though to accept what they offer me; I don’t want to take food from someone who needs it more than me. They have placed me on a statue because of whatever.. I don’t want to think about it.
The classes have ended and I’m on my way back to my room. I want to contemplate in peace about my next mission; get medication for the kids. I need to avoid Trowa or Wufei, before they get in my face again about my having a partner. They sure are fucking insisting when they want to.. at the wrong moment, if you ask me.
I succeed in avoiding them, but run into Quatre.
"Duo!" he exclaim enthusiastic, "Come and have tea with me."
"Okay," I accept and follow him. He lives on the ground floor in a typical room that probably used to be the principal’s office; it’s large and has two adjacent smaller rooms; one for storage and one bathroom. The water is not working of course, but I guess Quatre enjoys his privacy even when washing from a bowl. Unlike me, who stands bare ass naked in his room. I snicker softly.
He comes from a wealthy family but was disinherited when he clashed with his father about the fucking most basic discussion about peace; whether to fight or not to fight for it. Quatre’s father, a man who owns resources satellites like some kid owning marbles, did not dare to take a stand against the Alliance while his son and his private army, the Maguanac Corps, fought as devils. From what Quatre told me, he left his wealthy surroundings and L4 with two suitcases and a heart filled with hatred and anger. All his ties with the freedom fighters of the Maguanac Corps were severed, something he even mourns till this day. He has never heard from the captain, Rashid, again. They’ve probably told him he was dead. Quatre was leaving the resource satellite when the Alliance attacked; killing his father in front of his eyes. Due to the explosion of the satellite his shuttle was thrown off course and he drifted a long while out in space- until Howard and his space-salvaging unit, The Sweepers, rescued him. These guys did not plunder him or take advantage of him in any way but just let him wander off- that’s why Quatre lives as he rather quick ran into us. His hatred and anger concerning has father has melted away with the death of the man and Quatre sure is not the type of guy to bear negative emotions for long. He still has a wonderful beautiful pen with his father’s name engraved on it, something he accidentally threw in his suitcase before leaving. A small link to his past life, I guess. I don’t mind. I am far past the ‘belongings’ stage, and Quatre has traded and sold off lots of his things. His leather suitcases, why someone else would want to have them baffles me, were good for this little tea set and heater he desperately wanted. He can’t live without tea, also betraying his Arabian descent. He has this little stash in the storage room and I make fun of his tea mania. All in good humor, though. I like him.
Quatre switches on the heater and invites me to lie on the ground. He has two rickety chairs, but Arabians are used to lie on the ground. He has carpet in this office, so I don’t mind even though it’s worn and stained.
"You want some sweets? I got them pretty low-priced."
I take some of the colorful candy. "Nice. How are the preparations for your birthday?"
He blushes, just a little bit. He admitted to me a few weeks ago that he would like to have a birthday party, just like in his ‘old days’.
"It’s seems a bit trivial now, with the discovery of the Gundams. Things are dangerously going out of hand and I am fussing about my birthday.."
"Quatre, we are humans. We can always use some entertainment, something different than the world outside. Your birthday is a good reason to forget about all the nasty things, even though for a little while."
"Thank you, Duo. I’m trying to get my hand on more candy, it would be a nice treat."
"They’re nice," I confirm and watch him preparing the tea.
"Here are some pictures," he says, handing me my cup of tea and a bundle of photos.
I look at him quizzically. "Why?"
"Just look at them," he prods.
I recognize the girl immediately as Relena Darlian. She has wheat-blond long hair, skillfully twisted in braids. She wears a blue dress and long, white gloves, overall looking pretty and healthy. She undoubtedly has had all the care in the world, unlike others. The girl is standing next to her father and..
"Is this the same guy from the broadcast?"
Quatre looks up, beaming.
"Yes. We don’t know who he is, exactly. He is always close by. Maybe some kind of bodyguard, but my guess he is her boyfriend."
I study the picture. It’s not good quality, but I can definitely make out his blue eyes, a mop of dark brown hear and the scowl on his face. I snort.
"Why are you showing me this?"
"I saw you looking at him." He grins above his cup, carefully avoiding the small crack at the rim. "Looking with interest."
"I only saw him for a few seconds! He is.. oh no, Quatre Winner, don’t you dare! You are not going to bullshit me with this partner thing.."
"We are right and you know it," he states, effectively shutting me up. "Besides that, we are your friends and family, just like Sally said. And.. it pains me seeing you so alone, Duo. Taking all these risks alone, no one to turn to at night.."
"You are alone at night too," I point out. "Or is there someone.."
He laughs. "You know I had an eye on Sylvia once, but well.. it died before it had a chance to blossom."
"That reminds me of Noventa.." I say, but Quatre is not with me.
"There is no one in particular I am in love with or feel attracted to," he continues. "But I’ve got Trowa to talk to."
"Yeah, he’s the silent and you’re the babbling guy. He lets you ramble about everything."
"I may be alone at night, but I’ve got a good friend I can confide in. I can also confide in you, Duo.. but you are pushing me away."
I have nothing to say. The tea suddenly tastes bitter.
"So you are going to play the matchmaker, hm?"
He gives me that oddly painful look again, rubs his chest and puts aside his cup.
"Why do you always change subject when it’s getting personal? You’re in a lot of pain, Duo. I can feel it."
"Wha..?"
"Who is Solo anyway?"
He’s got me there. I fail to mention that I also hate emotional outbursts because most of the time I blurt out something about my youth. About Solo, or the gang, or the Church..
"None of your business. Why do you keep rubbing your chest anyway?"
The look he gives me is open and full of trust. I feel queasy. Everybody respects each other’s wishes to talk or not to talk about their pasts, but if you are good friends like we are there is no need for secrets.. as they keep telling me. I want to have a family, crave for this family thing they want to have so bad.. but I just can’t do it.
"It’s something I am born with," he says, shaking me out of my train of thoughts. "All Winners are empathic."
"What are you?"
"Empathic," he explains, smiling. "We are able to pick up emotions, especially strong ones, from the people around us. Sometimes the emotion is so strong it hurts me.. that’s why I always rub."
"You are in physical pain because someone is angry or upset?"
He sips his tea. "I can’t really put a finger on it, Duo. Before I.. left my family it was clear to me that almost all of my sisters had the same ability. We just pick up the emotions."
"So.. you can get into my head? Read my mind?"
"No, that’s telepathy. I’m talking about empathy. I am just more open to emotions.. like a radio beacon or something. I sense the emotions people are transmitting and sometimes it affects me physically."
"Wow," is my intelligent reaction.
"What diverts us effectually from our topic of conversation," he points out.
I finish my tea. "Solo was the leader of the gang I used to be in. That is all."
He brings up his hand but stops as he sees my following his motion. "That’s what I mean, Duo. Your pain is so strong that it hurts me."
"I’m sorry," I say, baffled by his empathy-thing and for a moment I don’t know what I can do or say.
"You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not that I want to push you to do something just to make me feel better. I just want you.. happy, how stupid it may sound."
"It sounds hopelessly romantic. Coming from you, mr. Ladies man, single an’ sassy!"
He laughs and still is laughing when I leave his room. I feel emotionally drained. Fortunately I don’t have a headache and I want to be in my room to get some rest. It’s until I stand for my door that I realize I keep the picture with Darlian, his daughter and the mysterious bodyguard still in my hand.
Trowa Barton waits for me in the cafeteria at dinnertime. He has sent a younger kid to bring me the message and I reward him with the last candy from Quatre. Apparently the food patrol has been successful; four hours of waiting in the striking sun has been rewarded with meat and cabbage. We eat the strangest stew I have ever tasted, but in these circumstances no one is picky.
Trowa talks to me about the price of meat on the black market, as we cannot define what kind of meat we are eating. Suddenly he stops and taps on my wrist.
"Why do you carry that picture with you?"
"Euh.. I kinda forgot I was carrying it," I mumble and feel a bit embarrassed when he slips the picture from out under my sleeve.
"The Darlians. Are you seriously considering kidnapping them?"
"No. Quatre gave me the picture. It’s a bad plan and we win probably nothing by it. I think G has seriously problems with.."
"I don’t think it’s a bad plan. It needs details, but that’s where Quatre and G are for."
"Kidnapping the daughter of the Vice Foreign Minister will only strain the relations," I object. "We only confirm the image the Alliance is creating with their propaganda to make us look like the bad guys. The government will only rush to side the Alliance and cluck like some headless chicken about the ‘renegade gangs’."
"You’ve got a good point and one the professor and Quatre certainly will contemplate when working out the mission details. Still, we need to make a move. If those Gundams are built, the Alliance will have absolute power."
"The fucking things are immense," I ponder. The cabbage tastes pretty well, if only a bit mushy. "Who would get such an idea to create mobile suits like that?"
"Big-shot scientists, I guess. The ones who designed the Leo’s in the first place."
"Yeah.."
Trowa studies the picture. "The Alliance is too big an organization to tackle alone. We need all the help we can get."
"I know."
We eat slowly to give our stomachs the impression we have a plate full of food. When devouring the food you’ll get hungry quicker. It’s easy as that.
"We need more information," I remark, "who he is, what he’s doing so close to Darlian."
"We are right on it, Duo. We use our network, also for rumor control."
"You heard about Noventa?"
"Yeah. I believe Meiran is with her now and Quatre certainly will offer her some consolation."
"And some tea," I suggest and he smiles- a slight upper movement of his lips, but certainly a smile. Quatre’s tea addiction is a common joke. He fiddles with the picture. There is obviously something bothering him, but I don’t ask. I don’t want to hear anymore about my having to team up with a partner of people feeling left out because they don’t get missions. They have family. They have relatives. They have each other. Shinigami has isolated me.
Death is a mission alone.
The conference room is cold. Thanks to L2’s unstable weather controlling system it’s either too cold or too warm, and today it’s cold. Quatre and Wufei are filling an old barrel with dirt, mud and wood. A package of matches lies on the table.
Sally stands away from the men, but not to avoid conversation with Wufei. Her shoulders are slumped and when she turns her head, she looks defeated and worn-out.
"Sally, everything okay?"
"No," she answers. "Anna."
That’s enough. The girl with mrs. Pea. She’s dead.
"I.. I am sorry." The words have to squeeze their way out, past a huge lump of bile.
"There was supposed to arrive a shipment of the Red Cross today," she tells me, her face changing from sad to angry. "It never arrived, yet the newscast shows an item with enthusiastic people receiving medical supplies! The bastards!" She snarls. "Motherfucking bastards.." She almost collapses and the tears start to flow. Nobody utters a comment. I step forward and hug her. Everybody is silent.
Quatre Raberba Winner saw his father being killed by the Alliance in front of his eyes. Chang Wufei told me he saw his own colony exploding, as believed to be caused by breached hulls, but in reality to prevent it from being blown up by the Alliance. Trowa Barton was too young at the time to recall it, but he and his sister Catherine saw their parents being killed in a car accident, caused by careless Alliance officers. They left the two kids standing at the wreck while driving away laughing. They were separated because of the mercenaries who found them. I saw the Maxwell Church being blown up by the Alliance ‘for counter-attacking measures’. We all have shed tears. We all have seen each other cry. We offer consolation while we wrestle with our own demons, our own pasts and our own etched impressions of violence and injustice.
Sally controls herself after a few minutes. Quatre and Wufei have lit a small fire and the warmth begins to spread slowly.
Professor G is silent, as usual. I stopped wondering what he is thinking a long time ago and I don’t care, as long as he doesn’t judge Sally at the moment. Not everybody can act cool and composed the whole time. The death of Anna is the trigger for Sally’s grief at this moment.
After a while, Quatre takes control. "If you don’t feel well enough to attend the meeting we can always brief you afterwards," he suggests. Sally is part of all our meetings because of her valuable input in matters. She has the same, practical level-headness as Wufei; I keep marveling at why they clash so much when they are really the same in thinking and planning.
Major Sally Po left the Alliance to start her own rebel group; she was arrested when trying to blow up a mobile suit factory. As lots of others she was dumped on L2 to spend the rest of her life in one of the prisons or labor camps, yes, I mean labor camps posing as ‘correctional institutes’. She never informed me how she escaped; but it’s telling enough that she arrived alone in the Underground.
"I’m fine, Quatre, thank you. Thank you Duo," she says, smiles weakly and takes a seat. She puts her hand on the table. "We continue."
"Very well." G rolls out blueprints, covering the tabletop. "Colony Star Hotel" is written in block print.
"Darlian and his daughter reside in this hotel during the meeting. Study this map Duo, you need to memorize every corner and hallway possible."
"I can’t believe you’re going on with this plan," I snort. "You should be planning on how to destroy the Gundams."
The professor smiles- a really creepy sight and now I remember why I don’t want to see him smiling again. The man is a fucking fanatic; he sees things other people don’t see and calls it ‘logic thinking’.
"Darlian is highly ranked and can use his influence to stop or at least stall the mobile suit production. He can get his daughter back- after he helps us."
"We need more details on the latest productions," Quatre steps in, "but first information show us..."
"Talking about details.." I interrupt him, waving the picture I snatched back from Trowa.
"His name is Heero Yuy." I jump up. Trowa has managed to sneak up on me. "My contacts do not confirm him as Relena Darlian’s fiancée or anything else.. romantically involved with the girl. As far as they know, he is on the payroll for bodyguard services."
"And?" I say after catching my breath.
"Japanese origin, born on L1 and moved to Earth at his fifth, as requested by his guardian. He speaks five languages fluently and has graduated cum laude from college. After his graduation he started working for the Darlians until now. He masters martial arts and has successfully foiled various murder attempts."
"Sounds like an one-man-army," I mutter under my breath. "Waittaminute…. Heero Yuy? As in "the Heero Yuy"?"
Trowa shrugs. "Not many people go by the name of the murdered pacifistic spokesman of the colonies. His death marked the more violent side of this whole Alliance versus colony controversy."
"Interesting." I can’t think of anything else to say. Silence falls.
"What?" I ask.
Quatre shakes ruefully his head. "That was so unlike you, Duo. Are you sure you don’t need some more rest?"
I flip him the bird and he laughs.
"Just kidding, just kidding.."
"Still, it’s an interesting choice of name," Sally chimes in. "Trowa’s contacts think he is about your age, Duo. As he said, he moved to Earth at his fifth, which means he’s been living there for more or less fifteen years. I wonder if he knows the historical significance of his name."
"A lot of colony kids were named Heero after the assassination, in honor of the man." I tap with my finger on the picture.
"True, but also his surname? His parents were called Yuy as well?"
"My contacts told me he has no parents left. Apparently he’s a war orphan. He came to Earth as requested by his guardian." Trowa frowns his brow. "The name was Jay, or something."
We are all startled by the shattering sound of a mug crashing on the concrete floor.
"Damn!" G mutters. "Sorry, I didn’t see it." He tugs at his sleeve, drenched with coffee.
"Did you get it over you?" Sally approaches the professor, looking at his wrist. The liquid was still hot; the vapor cringles in the air.
"No, no," he sounds extremely irritated, "the cloth absorbed it. Bah, what a waste."
We help him pick up the bits and pieces of the mug and leave the coffee to dry. One stain on the floor is not really worth bothering.
"Okay, back to the drawing board," I exclaim. We gather around the table and Quatre focuses immediately on the blueprints.
"We need information about the security, which rooms the Darlians reside in, their tour program, closing and opening times.."
"I know someone at the hotel," Trowa ventures. "I can try to get a job as dish washer monkey or I can take over his shift if I offer him the right price, of course."
"You can’t call in a favor?" I frown. We need to be careful with our supplies. Money is worth shit on the colony; I rather have someone ‘paying’ me with stuff like candles, matches, blankets or bottled clean water than paper money. It’s even better if someone owes you something; this world hangs together from I-owe-you’s and favors.
Trowa shakes his head. "No, unfortunately not. Even so, he is going to risk his own job by having me take his place."
Quatre nods. "Like I said, we need to check out the hotel. The security, the guards, the shifts. How many of them are there, how long are the shifts, who is close to Darlian and his daughter. I think Trowa is the best choice for this, don’t you think so, Trowa?"
"I will take care of it." He nods and than turns to me.
They want my approval. Quatre tries to take the lead, to relieve me from the stress and the pressure. I have to thank him, really.. but I see Catherine in my mind and her horrid stricken face when I told her her husband wasn’t coming back.. ever. Remember, Shinigami? You stood next to me and laughed out loud when the bullet hit him. At least you had the decency to kill him quickly. He didn’t suffer. He was my first partner, my friend.. and I had to tell his wife he wasn’t coming back. I will not be the one telling her that her brother also won’t be coming back.
"Don’t forget that I am the master of infiltration, o master of stealth," he says jokingly, but his voice is strained. The tension in the room increases. He has done similar missions before, he knows the risks and the dangers- still he is the perfect one for this job and by denying him this one, I deny him and his abilities. That doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.
"Okay," I agree, albeit reluctantly. His visible green eye glitters.
"Thank you, Duo."
"Wufei, you help him." I don’t miss the exasperated look on the face of my other friend. They really want to take this mission, really want to relieve my burden. I can’t help a little shudder. I want too so bad.. but I am the only one without family. No one waits for me when I am dead. I won’t leave grieving persons behind. I am all alone and nobody comes close. Because I am Shinigami and I kill whoever is close.
"One condition, though." They stop right in their tracks.
"What is it?"
"You do the scouting, the recon, the works," I say sternly. "But I will be the one abducting the girl. No objections, understand?"
"Duo, that’s the most difficult part.."
"Get your ass to that hotel and make sure I get the best information possible," I tell him. My tone does not leave any other way to interpret than commanding.
They understand. Wufei bows before leaving and the door slams shut.
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
"I can’t believe we are going on with this shit."
"Desperate times ask for desperate measures." G has helped himself to a new cup of coffee. I could use some of that caffeine right now.
"We are not going to harm the girl," Quatre directs Sally, but his words are also meant for me. "By abducting her we get the chance to demand attention to our actions. We will spread the word about the Alliance plans with the Gundams worldwide. They can’t go on with this."
The determined look on his face remembers me that Quatre really has come a long way from a disinherited ‘son-of-the-Winner-family’ to a dedicated and organized leader. But he had a strong character to begin with, forceful and unwilling to bend to whatever difficulty. I leave the planning stadium of missions already to him; it’s the more dangerous executing parts I am willing to only put myself in line. I have to talk to Catherine about her brother.
"Isn’t there something else we can do about the Gundams?"
G looks at me sternly. "We have discussed many possibilities and we are open for suggestions, Duo. At this moment we think revealing these Gundams as the latest tyrannical move of the Alliance is the best thing. There are too many unstable factors for now. We don’t know how far they are in developing the machines, who is responsible.. for the designs.. we are fortunate enough to discover these plans as it is."
For the first time in years I don’t have an answer ready.
Colony Star Hotel is the tackiest of the tackiest you can imagine. From Trowa’s descriptions I learn that it’s a solid, rigid four-story building with red and golden carpeting, flowery curtains and wallpaper, dark wooden furniture and metallic lamps. I study the blueprints of the building with accuracy; my life is going to depend on my memory. I also know the risks and I am more than willing to take them. Wufei also studies the plans and it makes me feel uneasy and sometimes sad as I see the sparkling, enthusiastic lights in his eyes. My Chinese friend is not stupid- he does not laugh at danger nor does he underestimate the risks. But he is eager to help me and he is really in his ‘fight-to-protect-the-weak’ mode, as I call it, but not mock it.
Trowa reports as dishwashing helper every day; the staff at the hotel is working overtime to get everything ready for the upcoming visit of the Darlians. While the Vice Foreign Minister is pretty modest and easy, his daughter has a bad name, from sending plates back to the kitchen – twice- that aren’t clean enough in her eyes to complaining about food and the bed, overlooking the fact that not everybody possesses the same frilly pink cushions and mattresses as she does. Trowa also reports to me that he has seen Heero; he has inspected the rooms reserved for the Darlians and checking security measures. After the arrival of the Vice Foreign Minister and his daughter, Heero is always close by the Darlian girl, glaring everybody even looking at his direction away.
"She acts like she owns everything and her Heero prince will save her if someone objects," Trowa complains. "Yet she is always friendly to the personnel and inquisitive, but her manners! Today she said the windows weren’t clean enough."
"Sounds to me she is bored out of her mind," I venture. We are at Quatre’s for a nice cup of tea. Tomorrow will be his birthday, a nice change of events. I bought him new teacups on the black market; it took me some cajoling but I got it for two food stamps for bacon I once stole from an Alliance base. Yes, I know I teach the children here not to steal from the Alliance storages, but I can handle the risk. I asked Trowa what he got him but he refused to tell me.
"I think she doesn’t realize that not everybody anywhere can live to the same standards she has. I believe this is her first trip to outer space and she hardly ever left her hometown before. No wonder she measures everything by her own perception of things."
Quatre offers us more tea and I secretly hope he will treat us candy as well. It tasted good.
"How are the mission plans going?"
Quatre scratches his head. "G is not very cooperative," he finally admits. "He’s euh..absent-minded, as you were before. He hasn’t had a very good idea for this mission until now, but keeps on rambling about the importance of destroying those Gundams."
"Strange." I ponder while drinking my tea. Great, chamomile again. Uck! I swallow. G and I are not that close, but friends nonetheless and lately he has been avoiding me. We used to see each other outside the meetings and briefings and he liked tutoring me.
"Very strange."
Trowa tingles with his teaspoon. "We don’t have much time. They will leave in four days, after Darlian has met the last of the representatives of the government. Tomorrow there is some sort of sightseeing tour scheduled."
"Sightseeing.." I shake my head. That tour won’t include the remains of bombed hospitals, the burnt Church and orphanage nor the houses and schools hastily abandoned like the ones in the Underground. No government official would want to have a sightseeing tour in these desolated suburbs.
Quatre finishes his tea. "I will have the plans ready by tomorrow morning, Duo, Trowa. Then we can undertake some actions."
We agree. Time is running out.
The next day we celebrate Quatre’s birthday; he is twenty, just like me. Or at least, I think I’m twenty. Orphan, remember? He has gone to great lengths to make it a nice and joyful event; there is tea of course and lots of it, but also real biscuit, milk and clean water for everyone and even baked potatoes with cream filling. It must’ve cost him a fortune. Wufei and his wife Meiran, Trowa and his sister Catherine, Sally Po, professor G, me and friends of Quatre are all present in his room and we hug and congratulate him. He is genuinely happy with the tea cups I present him, thanks Catherine for her self-knitted sweater and grateful accepts food stamps, oil stamps and a set of matching candles from his other friends. Trowa really makes his day by giving him strings for his violin. Yes, Quatre owns a violin- another tie with his past, a relic he won’t let go. After the round of presents exchanging and hugging, he raises his voice and calls for attention.
"I’m very happy to see you all here," he starts his speech. "I’m also very happy that we all can be together. The next days will be strained and stressful, but will also bring hope. I hope to celebrate my next birthday in freedom."
Hands applaud and I use the excitement to sneak around the people to get to Catherine. She is seven months pregnant and has the joy and pride of a mother-to-be in her eyes, but wrinkles of worry and fatigue circling around them.
"Duo!" She exclaims and hugs me. "How nice to see you."
"How are you, Catherine?" I ask.
"I’m doing fine." No one would’ve known she used to be a knife-thrower in a circus. She traveled around the colonies until she found her brother and claimed freedom with him, winding up here after a whole lot of misery. She met her husband here in The Underground and lost him during a mission with me. She was four months pregnant at the time and I always will be asking myself why she didn’t kill me when I had to break her the news.
"Sylvia and Meiran are such good friends," she continues. "Sally keeps a watchful eye on me. Trowa is a big support. Did you know he crafted the baby crib? I really look up to the delivery, but well.. it has to happen and so far, so good. It will be good to hold the baby in my arms."
"Cathy, about the mission.."
She looks at me, a forcing look on her face. "Trowa knows and accepts the risks, and so do I. Duo, don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have avoided it. Trowa can take of himself. It was very good of you to give him this mission."
"I know," I mumble. "I don’t want to.."
"We are one great family. If he.. falls away, than I will cry and mourn. But I will also go on, because Trowa would not want me to grieve forever. I will have the baby to think about and to grow, the next generation to continue the Underground and its resistance work against the Alliance. It won’t be easy, Duo, but I trust he will return. As you will."
There is nothing I can say about it. She has taken away everything I wanted to say. She sees my discomfort and smiles.
"Duo.. instead of wrenching your heart about this, let it happen. Trust in yourself and in others. It will be all right."
I did not sleep very well that night; I was cold and restless. I have to be in good shape; before attending Quatre’s meeting today I want to go to the Alliance medical supply base to ‘shop’ for fever medications. Sally reported four more sick children to me on her goodbye shot at Quatre’s birthday party. It haunts me. Children are not supposed to die. Not here. Not now.
I fall asleep and jerk awake when the sun is already high. It’s no use for me to go now; I wanted to use the dawn of morning for cover.
A bit chagrined and irritated I go to the meeting. Trowa has left for his work at the hotel; I don’t know how he obtained the job, but if he doesn’t show up there are probably forty others in line to take over. Fortunately Trowa is not very known in the Alliance records but you’ll never know; treason is common on the streets and in this world. They kill for a job, even for a dishwashing one.
Wufei is there, pinched up, anxious. Quatre looks serious, G almost bored, Sally wistful and I angry. Fucking mission!
"Thanks to Trowa, we have enough insight in the defense and the strength and weaknesses of the guarding around Darlian," Quatre kicks off. "We have pinpointed Relena’s room. We are going for the plan of creating diversions."
"I want as little as people involved as possible," I object.
"Out of the question. This requests more force than just three people." G is seemingly back to his old self.
"What kind of diversions do you have in mind?"
"Trowa will trigger the fire alarm. Normally that won’t work, but in this case it’s Darlian staying in the Hotel so the fire department will come. I want three, possibly four, groups creating as much ruckus and mayhem as possible. At the first sight of Alliance soldiers they are ordered to split, returning to The Underground with as much detours as possible. Also, if that doesn’t work, Trowa can set off minor detonations in the basement."
"I thought we were out?" I ask.
"You used most of our supply at your last mission." G states. The coded disk. "I gave Trowa adjusted ones; they are smoke developing, not really explosives."
"Okay, diversions. Then what?"
"Darlian will be the first to be brought to safety. The bodyguard will probably stay at Relena’s side."
"I have to deal with that.. one-man-army?" Fucking great, Heero Yuy.
G drops a gun at the table. I almost jump a meter away.
"It’s just a dart gun. Hit him with a dart and he will stay in la-la land for four hours. Use it on the girl as well."
I take the gun and put it in my waistband. Great, a psycho professor giving me a dart gun.
"Or he will leave her side if he wants to check out the situation. Whatever, he can be subdued with the dart gun. Here is where you enter, Duo. From the outside. Wufei will back you up to take over the girl. I will provide you with a rope to hoist her down."
"You don’t have much time," G takes over. "We have our mob trying to stall them, but as soon as they open fire they have to split."
"Of course." I look at Wufei. His tense frown informs me enough. He is ready.
Chapter 2 | Chapter 4