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Gundam Wing is property of Sotsu Agency, Bandai
Studios, and TV Asahi. Sainan no Kekka and all
original characters and plot copyright 2000 by
Quicksilver and Gerald Tarrant. Please ask permission
before reposting. 

SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING 
SAINAN NO KEKKA
ACT VII, PART II 

I just feel rhythm emotion
Otagai no setsunasa
Kanjiai wakeaeru nukumori o shinjiteru 
I just feel rhythm emotion
Kono kiss de tashika na
Jounetsu o tsutaetai so faraway

I just feel rhythm emotion
Feeling and sharing our common pain
Is something I believe in 
I just feel rhythm emotion
With this kiss I want to
Share this true passion so faraway

--Gundam Wing, Rhythm Emotion
[Second TV opening theme]

 ************************************
Scene VIII: The Battle to the Strong 
"Awaremarete ataerareru ai nanka wa iranai
Ni do to daremo watashi no koto
Kizutsuketari dekinai
Unmei wa kono te ni."

[I don�t need love sprung from pity]
Nobody can hurt me twice]
My fate is in my hands]
--Fushigi Yuugi, Aoi Arashi
************************************

Noin was dead. 

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

/Her fault../

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

She had handed over her codes to Etille as soon as
they arrived back, effectively surrendering her
command to him. He hadn't been happy about that, had
even accused her of cowardice. Dorothy tilted her head
back to look up at him. Her knotted hair was thick
with sweat and tied back into a ponytail that was
coming apart, just like she was. Her eyes had taken on
a gray hue, and he rather thought they looked like
silver daggers, ready to cut him to the quick.
 
"Say nothing," she said harshly, ready to lash out at
anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby and provide her
with the least excuse to let some steam off. She was
angry at the world, and hurt, and full of
recriminations that she couldn't escape. Noin was
dead... and it was her fault. Dorothy had always
believed in honesty, and now that was coming back to
haunt her. 

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

"Dorothy..." 

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

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

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

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

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

�Will it? They didn�t know Noin. She was here for all
of five days, while you have been here for weeks.� 

�Noin was a legend.� 

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

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

"Best for who, Dorothy?" 

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

The man who was laying her weaknesses bare. 

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

She couldn�t control it any longer, the anger and
pain. Her hand swung out without a thought, prepared
to deliver a stinging slap. 

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

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

Her words seemed to have no effect; if anything, his
face grew impassive instead of impassioned. �I am no
puppet, Dorothy. I fight because that�s what I am- a
soldier. I don�t hold with your high ideals, or
believe in valor. War is my business, and I may be
little better then a mercenary. War is my stock in
trade, all I know- all I will ever know. I�ll leave
the speeches and causes for someone else- I�m the
weapon they wield.� 

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

�We were young. I believed in justice and truth, then,
before I learned that though the causes change, the
battle remains the same. All there is to believe in is
duty.� He relaxed his grip, and she took her hand
back. 
Even though she was tempted to rub it to restore
circulation, Dorothy refused to give him the
satisfaction. Dermand Etille somehow had the ability
to cut through her defenses, and she hated that, hated
being weak. 

He had seen her cry, only a few nights before. �It
seems I am not the only one lying to myself,� she said
back to him. 

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

Duke Dermail had believed in revenge. 

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

�Do you? When you lost your warrior�s pride?� 

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


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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/Dorothy! Move, Dorothy, MOVE!/

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

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

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

Milliard would never forgive her. 

She wouldn't forgive herself. 

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

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

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

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

Had it only been ten years ago? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello- Ms. Riley?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes things were simple. 

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

But what was there for her now? 

/Geneva./

The answer came almost immediately. 

Quatre would be on trial there soon.

Une's Preventers were falling apart around her ears. 

Yes, she would go to Geneva. 

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

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

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

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

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

She almost believed it. 


  

********************************
Scene IX: Strangers When We Meet 
"And I'll never lose my faith in you- 
How will I ever get to heaven, if I do?"
--Lifehouse Family, Lost in Space
********************************

It was early morning in Geneva when they came to
release him. His sister Yaminah had done her work
well, managing to release him into the custody of his
sister Jaffa. Jaffa, in turn, had picked him up around
eight, flanked by Aisha and Scheherazade, the two
identical twins. Quatre hugged each of his sisters on
sight, smiling at them gladly as he felt their sincere
relief for his sake. Aisha was carrying a fresh outfit
for him, and he changed quickly, eager to get out of
the prison clothes.
 
The four Winners quickly went to a shuttle, under the
careful guard of Rashid. About ten of the Maguanacs
were in attendance, and Quatre felt a flush creep up
the back of his neck. He�d tried and tried to make
these people see him as a person, rather then an icon,
but all his attempts had come to naught. To them, he
was the personification of perfection, and it was a
terribly hard image to live up to. 

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

"Lilah?" he said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

�Why?� he whispered, fingertips tracing one of the
botched scars on her bony arm. She, like many
potential suicides, hadn�t known the proper way to cut
her wrists, and it looked like it was that fact alone
that had saved her life, for though the marks were
years old, they were deep. 

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

�No�� he whispered. 

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

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

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

He nodded, recognizing her rebellion. Only three
Winners had ever defied their father: Zarifa, who had
run away to join the Federation military and hadn�t
been heard from since; Lilah, who had run away under
the promises of a false love� and him. Who had run
away to construct a Gundam that was responsible for
thousands upon thousands of deaths. His sins were the
greatest, yet it was Lilah who had suffered most. The
universe was terribly unkind. 

"Lilah..." he whispered. 

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

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

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

"I-" 

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

"Yes, oneesan?" he asked. 

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

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

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

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

"Thank you." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was startled. "What?" 

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

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

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

Lilah said nothing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

  

********************************
Scene X: In Sight, But Out of Reach 
"Night breaks. My heart could not ache anymore.
Am I that easy to ignore?"
--Sixpence None the Richer, Easy to Ignore 
********************************

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

There were reasons she hated him sometimes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catherine looked like she was on the verge of saying
something, but Relena instead gave Li a bright smile,
elbowing Trowa's sister in the stomach. Catherine
grunted, but held her peace, letting Relena face the
major. 
"See to it that I'm informed when the shuttle is to
arrive? I want to be on the pad to greet them. I'll be
in my quarters." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure you'll be ok?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her dress was good enough for the occasion, she
decided, keeping her mind carefully blank as she
applied a small amount of lip gloss and touched up her
powder. Just a little makeup. Did Heero like makeup? 
/No, don't go there./

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

/Omae o korosu./

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

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

General Brown stood there. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He simply�walked away. 

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath. 

Something squeaked nearby. A door. She jumped. 

"Who's there?" 

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

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

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

  


********************************
Scene XI: Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere 
"You know how to get eternal life
In the centre of the lightning speed waltz
Feel your soul cut by a rusty knife
As you head down for the self destructive edge"
--Macross Plus, Information High
********************************

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

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

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

Li reached for the next form, paused as she scanned
the title. Riffled through the document. It was easily
ten pages, eleven�twelve. She frowned, then returned
to the beginning and paged slowly through it again,
eyes flicking through the titles of the various
sections, to the words in bold print at the header of
every page: 
CLASSIFIED. DO NOT DUPLICATE. 

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

Which gave her special�privileges. 

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

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

A knock on the door. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

One. 

It was time. 

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

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

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

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

Only a superhuman�like the Gundam pilots. 

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

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

She was willing to go as far as it took. 

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

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

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

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

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

"You're early." 

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

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

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

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

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

"You're crazy." 

"I've been told that before." 

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

"Why not?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Li laughed. "You have me trapped here." 

"Anything else?" 

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

"Good. No suspicions?" 

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

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

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

"Right." 

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

It was time to do some dangerous work. 

Link to information on William Gibson's cyberspace
novel Idoru:
http://www.nokia.co.jp/tokyoq/reviews/books/books_reviews/idoru.html
on which Li's virtual world is based. 


=====
"HOW DARE YOU LOOK SO MUCH LIKE MY SAFFIR-CHAN!"

http://www.homestead.com/quicksilverslabyrinth

http://www.method.org/gundam

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