89Chapter Seven
What does it mean to be a nation?
This is a word not easily defined. It is hotly debated among historians and anthropologists, and neither agree a clear definition. It is ill-used by agitators and politicians, for whatsoever definition they see fit to apply. In the eyes of many, for a group of people to call themselves a nation is to cut themselves off from the global community, to draw around themselves a boundary that none may cross in either direction. 'Nation', 'nationality', and 'nation-state' have become dirty words in our times. In times past the nation-state was regarded as the bulwark of democracy, the only proper, effective, and humane means by which states may be organised. Now this concept is mocked, sneered-at, and despised. To modern thought, the nation-state is synonymous with parochialism, smallness of vision, and cruelty both petty and great.
For those who would call themselves a nation, this is a harsh reality. For those who find the superpower economic federations not to their liking, it is all too easy to deny the flaws and dangers of nationalism, or else to embrace them in all their wickedness. We have seen this in the Reconstruction Wars, in the risings of the nations, in the bloodshed and misery inflicted in the name of 'purity', or 'national integrity', or whatsoever else. And yet the problem has yet to find a solution. A state must have a boundary, and a citizen must be a citizen of somewhere. Yet if a group of people draw such a boundary around themselves, declaring their land a somewhere of which they are citizens, then they inescapably reject those who stand outside this boundary, in mind, body, and spirit alike.
How then shall our Orb Union resolve this issue? How then shall our nation, our state, square this harsh circle. The only answer, I believe, lies in the values and ideals to which our nation would adhere. If we believe that nations are not defined by biology alone, then we reject none on the basis of race. If we believe that nations are defined by ideals, laws, and allegiances, then our nationhood may be open to all who share our ideals, who respect our laws, and who give their allegiance.
The age of ethnic nationalism is past, and we shed no tears but in pity for its victims. Let us also put aside this word 'nationalism', for in it hides the lingering spectre of hatred and rage. Let us instead embrace a new reality, a new nationhood that shall do honour to our country, and make it a refuge to all humanity, and a joy for the world to behold.
Uzumi Nara Athha
Then
Euphemus, Jupiter, April 14th CE 23
They came from him in the morning.
Of course, he didn't actually know it was morning at the time. Imprisoned as he was in that dark place, he had no sense of day or night. He had noticed their presence just after waking up. His eyes fluttered open to see the two guards standing over him.
"On your feet! The Master wants to see you!"
They had taken him like that, out of his rocky cell and into the cold, sterile light of the corridor. Only then had he been able to see them clearly, clad in armoured spacesuits, their faces concealed behind mirror visors. On the left breast of each was a crest, consisting of a letter Z superimposed over an eagle and lightning bolts.
There hadn't been much to see outside of the cell block. The corridors were all sterile, gunmetal grey, not much different from Yggdrasil station back home. There was no one else around, making him wonder if they were the only ones there.
Or else the corridors had been cleared for his passage. Was his presence a secret?
A trip in a transit tube followed, before he was taken through a security checkpoint and a heavy blast door. The guards stopped suddenly, and he felt himself rising as the elevator pad set into the floor ascended.
Then everything changed.
He had often wondered what the inside of an O'Neill Island 3 cylinder would look like. There had been talk of building some back on Earth, but they were still in the planning stages when he left. It had been a pleasure, an honour, to be part of that process, a joy to imagine what living inside one might be like.
Now he could see it clearly, a cylindrical world stretching out before him. The lower half was gleaming silver. Rows upon rows of mirrors, angling the light of the sun towards the upper half, a swirl of blue and green and grey. Wisps of white cloud hovered in the centre.
It wasn't a true O'Neill cylinder, in its configuration or its size. But it was the closest he had ever seen.
"Does it please you, Mister George Glenn?" asked a voice that sounded the creaking of an old wooden cabinet. George glanced around, wondering where the voice had come from. The lights came on around him, revealing a metal-walled chamber with the opposite end still hidden in shadow. The two guards dropped to their knees, and the shadows retreated further.
"Does my visage disturb you, Mister Glenn?"
It took him a moment to register the fact that the thing in front of him was alive and speaking to him. It was…it might have been a man, dressed in white and seated upon a throne of the same gunmetal grey as the walls and floor. His skin was wrinkled, and almost translucent. His long hair was of the palest gold, almost white, as thin as spider silk. Masses of tubes snaked from behind the throne and into ports set into his arms and legs and torso, though for what purpose he could not fathom.
Only the eyes indicated that he was alive, and how. They were narrow, but so very bright, fixing him with a gimlet stare.
"Yes, I think it does." His lips moved, but there was an electronic timbre as the throne amplified his voice. "It generally does. Not many have lived as long as I have, though as you can see it comes at a price."
"Who…who are you sir?" George heard himself ask, unable to take his eyes off the living fossil.
"I am Solomon Zeus," the antediluvian replied. "Head and CEO of House Zeus of Europa. These," he twitched his right hand and two smaller thrones beside his own, "are my children. Selene, and Nathaniel."
George blinked in surprise. So entranced had he been, that he had not registered the two children. The closer of the two was a girl, maybe ten years old, with reddish-pink hair tied with two black ribbons at the back. She wore a short black dress with a black cape reaching to her waist. Her face was round and delicate, set in an emotionless look. Her blue eyes were fixed on him, the coldest and most calculating he had ever seen.
She was holding the hand of the other child, who was smaller and apparently much younger, maybe four years old. It appeared to be a boy, with hair of a redder shade than his sister's, with bright blue eyes also fixed on him. Nathaniel, if that was who he was, seemed somewhat more childlike than Selene, though his gaze was every bit as intense.
"I suppose you'll be wanting an explanation," Solomon went on," as to where you are, and your sojourn in the prison block."
"Yes," George croaked, his vocal chords still stiff. "I do." Solomon's hand twitched again, and the two guards stood up and stepped back, leaving George alone in the middle of the floor.
"For the first," the old man replied, "you are in the asteroid colony Euphemus, a possession of House Zeus of Europa. For the second, it was so that we could be sure of you."
"Sure of me?" George almost spluttered. "But…but I meant no harm! I was only…!"
"Only curious?" Solomon queried, one white eyebrow rising just slightly. "Only wanting to see who was here? Only going to tell the people back on Earth all about us?"
"I…" George trailed off.
"I see resentment in your eyes," Solomon commented. "I see denial. What I said was not your truth, or at least not the truth you want. But you and I both know that it is the truth of our situation. It would be very…difficult for us if the governments of Earth were to discover our existence, at least at this point. We could not afford to trust you until we had learnt as much about you, and your world, as possible."
"The Tsiolkovsky," George said. "Where is it?"
"See for yourself." Solomon gestured at the window behind him. George turned to see bright lines intersect across a point in the far distance, at the opposite end of the colony. A video screen flashed into being, superimposing itself over the window, showing a zoomed-in view. He could see the Tsiolkovksy there, floating in the zero-gravity centre of the cylinder, surrounded by gantries.
"We were not so foolhardy as to try and dismantle your ship," Solomon went on. "As my father once taught me, never try to dismantle something unless you know for certain which parts are liable to explode. And we can't afford unfortunate accidents involving nuclear reactors inside this colony. Too much important work is done here, and by too many very important and not easily replaceable people. Nevertheless, we were able to learn a great deal about you, and about the world you came from."
"If you've learnt anything about me at all," George retorted. "You'll know that I mean your people no harm, that I didn't come here to harm anyone."
"That was…the conclusion we came to." The old man paused a moment. "Unfortunately, we weren't able to access all of your files, at least not yet. Like the technology of your vessel, your data encryption is something to be admired."
"Huh." George laughed ruefully. "So that's why you brought me here. You want me to help you unlock the sealed files. Why exactly should I do that?"
"An honest question," Solomon allowed, "but your conclusion is sadly predictable." He turned towards his children. "Selene, did you teachers tell you about the logical fallacy of the ticking time-bomb?"
"Yes father." Her voice was high and clear. "They did."
"Then why don't you relate it to our guest."
"The scenario posits that a man believed to be a terrorist is captured, and that there is located somewhere a ticking time-bomb. The supposed moral is that it is logical and necessary to torture the supposed terrorist in order to make him reveal the location of the bomb, lest it detonate and kill large numbers of people."
"Very good." Solomon's thin mouth twisted in what might have been a smile. "Now tell our guest why this is a logical fallacy."
"The logical failure is that by resorting to torture, the interrogators are admitting that they don't know the bomb's location or how much time remains. The terrorist will therefore have every reason to resist, or to misdirect his interrogators."
"In other words, Mr Glenn," Solomon spoke up. "If I regarded you as my prisoner, or my enemy, I would not have admitted what I just admitted."
"If I'm not your prisoner or your enemy," George retorted tersely. "Then what am I?"
"You are, despite what you might think, a guest." That smile again. "I may as well admit that you are also a very valuable resource, George Glenn the Coordinator." The last word sent a cold shock through his heart.
"So," he replied sourly. "You saw that video."
"Yes." The smile widened. "Your DNA is very…interesting. We learnt a lot from it."
"For what?"
"I'll tell you, at some point, if you agree to what I have to offer."
"Offer?" George snorted. "Don't tell me you're offering me a job."
"I am. Platitudes about us learning a great deal from one-another aside, you are evidently a person of great ability, and possessed of considerable knowledge and expertise in technology. Such technology would be useful to House Zeus, both for now and for our long term plans. I would like you to assist my scientists and engineers with their current projects." For a few moments George did not reply, stunned by the antediluvian's words.
"Why should I help you?" he demanded suspiciously. "Why should I trust you? You locked me in a cell for God knows how long, with no food but…" He trailed off, his attention returning to the two children. Had it been one of them?
"You can trust me," Solomon replied, "because I trust you, though I admit I can afford to as you are in no position to betray me. As for your imprisonment, I can only insist that I meant you no harm by it." There was silence, but for what sounded like a pumping mechanism inside the throne.
"Fine," George said, with a humph of distaste. "I guess I have no choice. But what's in it for me? What payment, what compensation, can you offer me?"
"The return of your ship, in full working order and fully stocked. Also, any one reward you care to claim." Solomon managed to raise his skeletal right hand. George, seeing no alternative, took it very gingerly. The skin felt like paper.
"Welcome, George Glenn, to Euphemus." Solomon's smile widened into a smirk, his eyes gleaming in triumph. "The fortress of our future."
Now
Government House, Onamuji Island, Orb Union, October 25th, CE 73
"The Martian delegation should be here any minute. They landed an hour ago."
Despite the foreboding she had felt ever since her encounter with Yuna in the car, Cagalli actually felt excited. The Martian colonies were much better known than those of Jupiter, but few outside of the DSSD had even spoken to a Martian, let alone encounter one directly. Even if Gilbert Durandal had beaten her to the punch this time, it was a historic moment nonetheless.
"I'm grateful that you allowed me to accompany you, Chief Representative," replied Daniel brightly. "This is a great opportunity for us too."
Cagalli regarded Daniel for a moment. He was dressed, as usual, in the dark blue dress uniform of the Jovian Royal Guards, with the distinctive red cuffs and collar, and the gold lanyard that marked him as a proven mobile suit pilot. It was a good counterpoint to the white and blue dress uniform she was wearing, creating a sense of shared purpose.
Even without that, she was more than a little glad of his presence. He was one of very few people within easy reach whom she felt she could trust.
"Yes, this is important," she said, partly in reply to what he had said, but also to her own thoughts. "Even with the declaration of friendship with the Atlantic Federation, Orb needs all the friends it can get." She gave Daniel a hopeful smile. "Jupiter included."
"I saw your speech last night," Daniel replied, smiling in turn. "You made it nobly and well."
"Thank you." Cagalli blushed a little at the compliment. "I was afraid you would take it the wrong way."
"Not at all." His eyes were warm and sincere. "You must do what you feel is necessary, especially in matters of government. My father has always lived by this rule."
"I'm glad you think so."
Cagalli tried to take some comfort in his words, but felt only disquiet. She could not escape from what she was about to do, nor from the role she intended for him to play.
A buzz from her desk intercom drew her attention.
"The Martian delegation has arrived, Chief Representative."
"Okay, send them in." A moment later the door opened, and the Martian delegates strode in.
There were two of them, both young men, their bodies tall and lean. The one in front, apparently the leader, had electric-blue hair reaching to his waist, while his companion's was blond and curly. The leader wore a formal-looking white tunic over a black, high-collared shirt and pants, while the other wore black pants and a black jacket over a blue shirt, covered in turn by a loose white baldric running from his right shoulder to his left waist. The leader's red eyes flickered in momentary surprise as they fell on Daniel, but he kept his composure.
"Welcome, gentlemen." Smiling, Cagalli stood up and strode around her desk to greet them, Daniel following close behind. "I'm Cagalli Yula Athha."
"Agnus Brahe, of the Australis Colony," the leader replied, taking her proffered hand.
"And I'm Nahe Hershell" the companion added, shaking her hand in turn. Taller than Agnus, he had an easy manner that Cagalli found very pleasant.
"Also, I present my good friend and honoured guest." She gestured to Daniel, who stepped up on cue. "His Royal Highness, Prince Daniel of Jupiter."
"An honour, your highness," Agnus said, shaking Daniel's hand in turn. "It's good to meet one of our Jovian brethren at last."
"Thank you for your kind words," Daniel replied, smiling. "I only regret that we were not able to establish contact sooner. We were honestly not aware of any colonies on Jupiter. The last scout ship we sent out there was lost several years ago."
Both Martians reacted, though only for an instant. Cagalli saw something flash across Agnus' face, his eyes momentarily hardening. Daniel sensed it too, and suddenly became nervous.
"I…" Nahe began. "I…that is…I think we found that ship."
"You did?" Daniel asked.
"Why don't we all sit down?" Cagalli suggested, gesturing towards a coffee table with a sofa along one side and two armchairs along the other. The Martians followed her and Daniel to the table, sitting down on the sofa as she and Daniel took the armchairs.
"You said you had found the Laocoon," Daniel pressed, suddenly eager. "I would be grateful for anything you could tell me."
"It is a difficult topic for us," Agnus said, interrupting Nahe before he could continue. Daniel looked crestfallen.
"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable," he said remorsefully. "I understand if you prefer not to speak of it."
"No your highness." Agnus paused, and Cagalli wondered just how bad the tale could be. "The truth must be known, no matter how painful. To tell of it could answer questions for both of our peoples. If you don't mind, Chief Representative."
"Not at all." In truth, Cagalli was more than a little intrigued.
"The ship Laocoon was first encountered eight years ago," Agnus began. "It was met in the asteroid belt by a ship from the Olympus Mons colony. We don't know much about what happened, but one of the crew became something of a celebrity among the Olympians. He was known as Kellen, or the Man from Beyond."
The room suddenly went very cold. Cagalli glanced at Daniel, and although his face had remained level, she saw the horror in his eyes.
"May I ask…what happened?"
"Kellen claimed to be one of the legendary Founders" Agnus went on, his eyes hard. "Over the years he won the Olympians over and became their leader. He turned their heads with talk of dreams and aspirations. At first he told them that they were a great people, deserving of power, prosperity, and respect. Then he told them that they were the greatest people, and that they deserved to dominate Mars and become its leaders. They became deluded and arrogant, even claiming that they had travelled beyond the asteroid belt to bring Kellen back. We of Australis knew this to be a lie, for one of our ships was present when the meeting took place, but the Olympians persisted in their lies. Then, four years ago, they attacked and overran Acheron colony. It was only the first."
He fell silent, and cleared his throat.
"The Olympians had launched a war of conquest against the whole of Mars," he went on. "Only after Australis formed an alliance with other colonies were we able to drive them back."
There was a pause. Daniel cleared his throat in turn.
"May I ask…what became of him?"
"Kellen escaped during the final battle," Agnus said coldly. "We don't know where he went, but he left Olympus Mons in ruins."
"I…can only offer my most profound regret," Daniel replied, his voice hoarse. "When we cast him out of our Kingdom, we had no conception that such a thing could happen."
"Don't blame yourself, your highness." Agnus' countenance was cold and tightly controlled, but Cagalli thought he seemed sincere. "The Olympians paid for their own delusions. We harbour no bitterness towards the people of Jupiter over this tragedy."
"I'm certainly glad to hear that," Cagalli spoke up, and she was. "I had hoped this would be an opportunity for our three nations to meet in friendship. This is not a time to make new enemies."
"That was our hope also," Agnus said. "But I understand that things have been difficult recently. Are we not causing you trouble by coming at this time?"
"Actually, you couldn't have come at a better time," Cagalli insisted. "The Jovian delegation was also here, and it'll be difficult for me to go out for a while."
"Any particular reason for that?" Nahe asked. Cagalli took a moment to gather herself.
"I'm getting engaged to a member of the Seiran family," she said. "I may as well admit that it's for political reasons, but I feel that it's for the best. It will show to the world that Orb's rulers are united."
"And who are you trying to convince?" asked a voice inside her. "Them, Daniel, or yourself?"
"I see," Agnus said, after a short pause. "On behalf of our Martian brothers and sisters, I offer my congratulations."
"Thank you." She managed to smile, deciding to accept the compliment in the spirit in which it was given.
She only hoped she could keep it up.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaumph!"
The spoonful of brightly coloured ice cream vanished into Ninin Pulu-Lemo's mouth. She drew it out through a wide grin, and dug it once again into the heaped confection.
"How can you eat that stuff?" Damien Valorum complained, watching her with a sour look on his face. "I'd throw up if I ate that much sugar!"
"Too bad!" Ninin retorted, sticking her tongue out. "I can eat all the yummy desert I want, and you're just an old sourpuss!"
"Who're you calling old?!" Damien snarled back, irritated.
"Calm yourselves," Hannon Gable cut in, taking a sip of his tea. "Don't make a scene." Damien controlled himself, remembering where he was.
The dining hall was as palatial as the rest of the building. It was almost full, the round tables occupied by a mixture of functionaries and military types. Damien had brightened up an otherwise dull mealtime by exchanging glances with a cluster of young ladies in Orb military uniforms. He was fairly certain they were checking him and Hannon out, and he liked it.
He would like it a lot more if he wasn't sitting next to an overgrown child inhaling a small mountain of ice cream and god-knew-what else. The scene was Ninin Pulu-Lemo all in one. Aged fifteen, looked ten, acted five.
"What're we doing here anyway?" he asked irritably. "Aren't we supposed to be spying on the meeting?"
"Remind me never to involve you in genteel espionage ever again," Hannon replied sourly. "Ninin's handling the surveillance."
"I am!" Ninin proclaimed happily. "I know everything that's going on in there!"
"Oh ya do, do ya?" Damien drawled. Ninin lowered her spoon.
"I am certain the parliament will agree." The voice was hers, but the syntax wasn't. "If we consider that…"
"Quit that!" Damien hissed, shivering. "Don't ever do that! It really creeps me out!"
"See!?" Ninin beamed in triumph. "So shut up and drink your hot mud sludge!"
"It's called coffee. It's what grownups drink."
And that was another thing. Damien had gotten used to drinking coffee in his teens, but could still remember a time when it was a luxury. The end of the final war, and the declaration of the Kingdom, had come in the year of his birth. He had grown up with comforts the likes of which his parents, and their parents, and even their parents could only have dreamed. Vat-meat, rice, even vegetables every day, with real meat maybe once or twice a week. He'd slept in his own room, with his own vid-screen. He'd been educated in a school, and played in public parks, the colony looming vast and distant around him, so near and yet so far.
Now here he was in Orb, the Land of Peace, a country that seemed to want for nothing. Foodstuffs were shipped in from all over the Earth, things he had never heard-of, let alone tasted. Since their arrival he had attended enough fancy dinners to last a lifetime, serving faire he would not soon forget. And the rest of the time, the staff would bring him just about whatever he asked for, whenever he asked for it.
And the clothes. Those Orb forces girls were wearing skirts as part of their uniforms. He had seen Jovian civilians in skirts, but no women in the military ever wore one. And even with synthetic fibres and dyes increasingly available, styles back home tended to be at best simple, at worst drab. Yet Orb seemed to be a riot of colour, with clothes of every conceivable style and size, made of any number of fabrics. He had seen women walking around practically naked, though not without reason, for Orb was swelteringly hot.
The food and the clothes were the first things he'd noticed, but not the last. The music, movies, and TV shows he had found on the vid-screen in his room, the video games and gadgets he'd seen advertised.
Hannon had gone on about more high-minded cultural things he wanted to see, like works of art and really old buildings. Damien had looked some of them up on the net, and learned that those things were indeed old.
Very, very old.
He had found it hard to comprehend just how old human civilization was, even now as he sat amid the planet that was its cradle. Some of those old buildings Hannon had been going on about were hundreds, even thousands of years old. Thousands. The Kingdom of Jupiter was just over a century old, yet Earth boasted cultures centuries or millennia old, or at least the junk they left behind.
So vast. So brilliant. So old.
What could Jupiter offer compared to all that? How could colonies, even the massive O'Neill cylinders, compare to open skies and warm sunshine? What was rust-orange Jupiter compared to the blue Earth? Would the others up on the Jovian dawn feel this way?
Would they even want to leave?
Damien shook the thoughts away. The Jovians had made a world for themselves in the frigid void, while the Terrans lived easily. They were not the lesser people. They had no need of Terran pity or charity.
"How about their women?"
"You're sulking again," Hannon commented. "What is it this time?"
"Oh, uh, nothing." Then he remembered. "Oh yeah, I looked up on that song Daniel was always listening to."
"Oh yes?"
"It was by some chick called Lacus Clyne," Damien went on. "She was this really huge pop singer based up in the PLANTs. Apparently her father was one of the former Chairmen, Siegel Clyne."
"I see," Hannon mused. "If she was a famous singer, I suppose it's no surprise we picked up a transmission from her. What's become of her?"
"That's just it, no one knows. She got involved in trying to stop the war, then just dropped off the world after Jachin Due. Everything after that's just rumours. A lot of her fans think she's living in hiding with some guy named Kira Yamato."
"I've heard of him," Ninin spoke up, gesturing with her spoon. "He was a battlepod ace in the war, but no one knows what happened to him."
"It's too bad," Damien commented. "I thought we could set up a meeting for Daniel. Besides, it looks like this Kira Yamato guy beat him to it."
"Poor Dan-dan," Ninin commented sympathetically. "Oh well, he's got us!"
Central Spaceport complex, Onamuji Island.
Night had fallen.
Erica Simmons gazed up into the ebony black of the sky, eyes straining for any sign. There was none to be found. All she saw was the twinkling of distant stars.
The spaceport around them was shrouded in darkness, but for a few lights and the glare of the other landing strips. The shuttle they were waiting for would be guided in by laser beams, invisible to the naked eye yet visible through the pilot's helmet visor, the sound of the landing masked by the constant rumble and roar of the spaceport. The Prime Minister had insisted on secrecy, and this was about the only way to do it.
It was a warm night, but Erica could not help but feel a shiver of anticipation. If what her superiors at Morgenroete had told her was true, the shuttle was carrying something of great scientific and engineering interest. If she knew her superiors, she knew that it was also a matter of national security. After a lifetime working for a major arms contractor, she had gotten used to it.
She turned and strolled back towards the hangar, deciding to check everything again. She had done so three times already, but it was something to do.
In contrast to the darkness outside, the hangar was brightly-lit, the lights rigged so as to minimalize the glare. The truck stood at the back of the hangar, its back-end open and facing her, ready to receive what the shuttle would bring. The cargo that had arrived in it had already been unloaded. The cargo container stood by the truck, along with the power-lifter that had unloaded it. Within the heavy-duty container, behind doors sealed and code-locked, lay Morgenroete's treasures, ready for trade.
Erica scanned her eyes over the half-dozen people hanging around the truck. Their coveralls and caps marked them as Morgenroete employees, and she knew some of them by name. They were members of her team, responsible for the most secret work. They were young, and enthusiastic. Just like they had been.
Juri Wu Nien. Asagi Caldwell. Mayura Labatt.
Three names engraved on the war memorials. Three among countless others, yet engraved upon her heart.
She had been told, time and time again, that she was not responsible for their deaths. They had felt the need to tell her, because they knew something of how it felt. She had designed the M1 Astray. She had selected those three girls to be its test pilots. She had allowed them to go into battle. Though she was more than satisfied that the Astray had not let them down, she could not help but feel responsible.
By some curious logic, her thoughts turned to her son, Ryuta. Tinging her excitement at what was to come was a mingled feeling of guilt and irritation. She had wanted to be home that night. She had wanted to be with her husband and son, to eat dinner with him and put him to bed. Her workload hadn't been quite as heavy recently as it had been a year earlier, but she still treasured every opportunity her schedule allowed.
Morgenroete would be busy again, and soon. They wanted the new item reverse-engineered, and quickly. Considering what they were handing over in return for it, Erica wasn't surprised.
She glanced around, looking for the odd-man-out among them. A moment later she spotted him, a young mad clad in a dark suit, talking on a phone. He had a black dossier under his arm. Erica wondered what it contained, what his business there was, but all she had gotten from him was his name and who had sent him.
Alwin Kuroshitsu, whose ID identified him as a member of the Prime Minister's staff.
Erica had to admit it was intriguing. He had claimed he was only there to make sure the handover went smoothly, but a part of her was convinced that something deeper was afoot.
She was about to give him one last poke as he lowered his phone, until a rumble drew her attention back to the runway. Wondering if it was what she thought it was, she headed back towards the entrance.
Sure enough, she could see the shuttle descending, a black shape cut out of the night sky. The rumble became a roar as the shadow grew larger and larger. Erica glanced at the runway, at the laser projectors that lined it in place of the landing lights, and prayed that the pilot could see them properly. If he couldn't, then things would get very unpleasant any moment. She watched the shuttle coming down, closer and closer, her heart pounding.
Then the tension turned to disbelief as the shadow seemed to slow down. Erica watched, entranced, as the Jovian shuttle descended. As it drew closer, the backwash buffeted her in a gust of hot wind. She could just make out the air rippling about its underside as the shuttle eased itself down onto the runway, just outside the hangar. Erica backed away, keeping her eyes on the dark blue shuttle as it turned and rolled into the hangar under its own power, its wings folding in.
As it came to a halt inside, Erica Simmons got her first up-close look at a Jovian Tonans class assault shuttle. The fuselage was long and slender, about sixty metres long, with its wings set just shy of halfway along, a configuration she found quite curious. The forward quarter just before the wings was raised slightly above the main fuselage, giving the shuttle a vaguely avian look. The engines were set under the wings, two on each side, the variable-geometry nozzles aimed straight down.
Though Erica's interest was primarily as an engineer, she could not keep her eyes away from the small turrets set into the sides, arranged two forward, two rear-facing, or from the beam cannons set into the bases of the wings. Whatever other roles it might perform, it was first and foremost a war machine.
Erica watched for a few minutes as the engines powered down. Once they were down to a safe level, the hangar doors rumbled shut. The front hatch opened, lowering to form a ramp, and a cluster of blue-uniformed Jovians strode down. As they drew closer, Erica could make out their rank insignia. The epaulettes marked the tall man on the right as a command rank officer, while the gold stars at his collar marked him as a Commander. The man on his left had no epaulettes, but shoulder-boards lined in silver, and with three silver stars at his collar, marking him as a lieutenant. The four men behind wore the plain blue uniforms of enlisted men.
"Commander Illumina Ark, of the Jovian Dawn," the officer on the right introduced himself, saluting smartly. "This is Lieutenant Kyme." The lieutenant saluted in turn.
"Senior Engineer Erica Simmons, Morgenroete," Erica answered in kind, shaking his white-gloved hand.
"Alwin Kuroshitsu, of the Prime Minister's office," Alwin said likewise. "I represent the government's interests."
Erica took a moment to examine the commander. His face was narrow and lantern-jawed, with a pronounced widow's peak of black hair visible under the rim of his blue beret. His eyes were small and dark, showing nothing of the man behind them. Erica saw a line of coloured insignia over his left breast, apparently the non-dress version of his decorations, though she had no idea of what the individual insignia meant. Was he a hardened combat officer? Or had he merely served for a long time and in many places? Either way, something about him told Erica he hadn't earned them for making coffee or sucking up to superiors.
"We have brought the cargo as specified," Ark said primly. "I trust you have done likewise?"
"We have, Commander," Erica replied, beating Alwin to it. "It's ready for inspection, though we'll be wanting to inspect your cargo also."
"Of course." Ark nodded to Kyme, who muttered something into his comm earpiece. A series of clunks resounded from inside the shuttle. A dark blue power-lifter reversed down the ramp, leading a cargo sled to which a heavy-looking object was securely strapped. It came to a halt in the open.
"Well, we made it this far," Erica quipped. "Why don't you check our merchandise first?" She gestured towards the cargo container, and the Jovians followed as she strode over. It was a matter of a moment to swipe her ID card and type in the code, the double doors unlocking with a clunk.
"This," she gestured at an ovoid of black metal, "is Morgenroete's MSR-9 integrated combat sensor and control package. Multi-phase, multi-spectral, multi-mode. Scan and track up to four hundred k, N-Jammer resistant to one hundred. This child is going in the Murasame's head next upgrade cycle. Gentlemen of Jupiter, you will find nothing match it this year or the next."
Erica regarded her 'customers'. Their faces were professionally expressionless, but she had attended enough sales pitches to know they were interested.
"And this," she gestured to a large black briefcase, "is one of our latest quantum computers." She flipped the briefcase open to reveal a silver oblong, its upper side consisting almost entirely of a single screen. "One of our finest creations." She gave them a meaningful look. "I trust this meets your satisfaction?"
"It does," Ark replied. "But we were also promised the schematics."
"They're right here." Erica patted her breast pocket, feeling the hard plastic of the disc box. "But if it's okay with you, I'd like to see your end first." She shot him a smile. The commander did not react, but gestured for her to follow. Her subordinates fanned out around the sled, examining the device from all angles. Erica felt her heart pounding as took in the configuration. It didn't look all that much different to the Freedom's nuclear fission reactor. Could it be…?
"Zeus Concern Mark 1 ultracompact fusion reactor," confirmed Lieutenant Kyme. "Fully integrated, with option for thruster nozzles. Standard output of 20 Megawatts."
Erica barely heard him. She had heard the rumours, but had never expected to find herself staring at an actual fusion reactor. If this was indeed the real thing, it explained why Morgenroete was willing to give away so much.
She glanced around, looking for Commander Ark. He and Alwin stood a few metres away, their backs to her. Even with her Coordinator's hearing, she could only make out a faint mumbling, and what might have been the faintest rustle of paper. She supposed it might be the paperwork, but then why keep it from her like that?
She shrugged inwardly, deciding to dismiss the matter for now. She had not enjoyed a long and successful career by poking her nose in where it wasn't wanted.
At least, not so blatantly as that.
Government House, Onamuji Island, Orb Union, October 26th CE 73
With a clunk, the double doors were opened.
"The Chief Representative of the Orb Union! Accompanied by his Royal Highness, Prince Daniel of Jupiter!"
Daniel did his best to keep his face level as he strode through the doors beside Cagalli. Beyond the door the parliament chamber stretched out and away from him, climbing up in rising hemicycles. The hemicycles were packed with the men and women of the Orb legislature, all of them on their feet, their applause rumbling in his ears. As Cagalli took her place at the podium, Daniel took his pre-arranged place at her right hand, with Ambassador Brand and his companions taking up position behind him. Yuna Roma Seiran pointedly took the place at her left, with his father and various officials standing a little way behind. Daniel knew by then that they were all part of the Seiran faction, being either relations of that family or beneficiaries of their patronage. Their presence was almost certainly a show of force, a reminder to those present that House Seiran was in the ascendant.
He found it distinctly unsettling, and quite alien. Back home, there was no great family, no ruling faction, in that sense. The Royal family consisted of himself and his father, who sat at the very apex of the political pyramid. The Parliament, the Judiciary, the Civil Service, and the military all derived their authority from the Crown, making them essentially equal. The politicians had the power to make laws and to overturn his father's veto by three-quarters vote, but could not interfere in matters of justice beyond that. By the same token they could make policy, but could not interfere directly in the day-to-day running of the machinery of state, or in that of the armed forces. The King could make laws and policy with the help of his cabinet, but under a crucial clause in the constitution was required to put any such matter before the Parliament, as if it were any other bill. It had become a courteous custom to give any Royal bill the utmost priority, and his father obliged by not troubling them with anything but the most serious matters.
It had broadly worked for many decades, far longer than Daniel had been alive. It had worked so well, in fact, that it had been applied to Jovian space as a whole, with the ending of the Ionian War. Nevertheless, Daniel had grown up with the unsettling knowledge that it depended to a great extent on the ability of the King. It was not necessarily that the King needed to be a great politician or soldier, for the law-making and bureaucratic mechanisms were broad and open enough to cover for it. What a King of Jupiter needed more than anything was good judgement and an impartial mind, the ability to stand above the issues and controversies of the day, and to come to the best possible decision.
Daniel hoped with all his heart that he would be able to live up to that ideal, that he could find it in himself to look at the facts with cold-blood and an open mind, no matter what was in his heart. What he feared, more than anything, was to fail in that object. The thought that he might make the wrong decision frightened him, almost as much as the thought of being hated by his own people for it.
He glanced at Cagalli, standing at the podium with all the dignity and poise she could muster. Was the same thought going through her head? Was she bound by that same knowledge, that same sense of responsibility, that had always bound him?
He could believe it. He had known her for only a few weeks, but had seen a noble spirit in her words and deeds. She was not as stern as his father, or as regal. Her heart was not pure, for he knew from the testimony of others that she had suffered too much for that. But he knew that her heart was true, for the spirit he saw in her was as sincere as it was noble. Everything she did as Chief Representative, he knew in his heart, was meant for the good of her people.
Which made what she was about to do even harder to bear.
"Members of the Legislature, honoured guests," Cagalli began. "Our nation stands in the midst of an international crisis. Mere weeks ago, a force of as-yet unidentified terrorists sought to end all life on this planet. By the combined efforts of ZAFT, and of our newly-arrived cousins of Jupiter," she gestured at Daniel, "this tragedy was averted by the smallest of margins."
"Even before then," she went on, her voice booming across the chamber. "Our world was in dire peril of war, and remains so. The enmity between the Atlantic and Eurasian Federations, where once there was unity and peace, remains a threat to the safety and happiness of all humanity. Let no one deny or play down the danger. A war between these mighty powers, coming so soon after the horror of the Bloody Valentine war, would bring about the final and irrevocable desolation of our world, the destruction of human civilization. My father, Uzumi Nara Athha, made his name as a bringer of peace to whichever hearts were open to it. As his daughter, I cannot do any less than my best to prevent this dire event." There was a rumble of apparently sincere applause. Daniel wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Yuna yawn.
"But I must also tell you of better news, and happier tidings. Despite the danger all around us, our nation stands on the cusp of a new and better era. This very day we have received word from his Majesty King Nathan of Jupiter, and the Parliament of his people. They have, wholeheartedly, added their names to a declaration of friendship between our two nations." There was more applause. Daniel could not help but feel a little uncomfortable, for the ambassador had made the reality of this declaration quite clear. Even if it was not compared to the secret treaty they had signed the night before, in which Orb had forked over an entire colony, such declarations tended to say a lot and mean little in practice. Cagalli seemed to be milking it for all it was worth.
"It is fitting, therefore, as nations are bound together in friendship," Cagalli went on, "to speak of a binding together within our nation." She paused, and it seemed to Daniel that she was steeling herself for what was to come. Beside her, Yuna's smile was growing wider and wider.
"This bond shall be a bond of marriage, between the most noble Houses of Athha and of Seiran. For I, Cagalli Yula Athha, have consented to give my hand to Yuna Roma Seiran, heir of that name." She reached out her hand, slipping it into Yuna's own, held up so that the whole chamber could see. The applause rolled across the chamber like thunder. Daniel forced himself to do likewise, suppressing his irritation at the look of utter, undisguised triumph on Yuna Roma's face. He would have thought that someone of his high position would behave with more grace.
As the last of the applause faded, Cagalli turned and strode up to him. Daniel took a moment to gather himself as she reached into her jacket pocket and drew out what looked like a signet ring.
"This ring of the House of Athha belonged to my father," she said, her voice clear and remarkably strong. "Had he a son, it would have gone to him." Daniel's heart skipped a beat as she held it out to him.
"I offer it to you, Jupiter's firstborn son, as a token of our commitment to the treaty signed here today, and to ask of you a favour." She paused, and the tension in the chamber palpably rose.
"Prince Daniel," she continued. "In place of my martyred father, will you be as a father to me on the day of my wedding? Will you give me away?"
It was all Daniel could do not to flinch. He could feel hundreds of eyes boring into him, and could almost hear the hum of the cameras. He had to react, and quickly. He had to do something, say something, lest his silence be taken for something sinister.
"Chief Representative," he said, using the respite to gather himself, and bowed low. "It would be my honour."
For a few moments there was silence as he allowed Cagalli to slip the ring onto his finger. The chamber erupted in applause, and even cheers, as the ring slid into place, and Cagalli reached up to kiss his cheek.
"Wonderful! Wonderful!" Yuna gushed, seemingly overjoyed. "What an honour!"
The other Seirans were applauding too, but their smiles seemed just a little forced.
"What do you mean by this, Cagalli?" Daniel thought. "What are you really planning?"
Supreme Council building, Aprilius One PLANT, October 26th CE 73
As the image was replayed for the fifth time, Gilbert Durandal reached for the intercom.
"Mister Chairman?"
"I am expecting Mister Alex Dino tonight. Inform me when he arrives, and send him straight in."
"Yes Mister Chairman."
"I didn't know he had an appointment," commented the voice of an angel from the sofa.
"He will when he sees this," Gilbert replied, still smiling.
"This was your plan?" his creation asked, standing up from the sofa, her divine form silhouetted in the darkness. "You knew this would happen?"
"I confess I merely suspected it." Gilbert sat back in his seat. "It is nevertheless highly convenient. I was afraid I might have to work on him for some time."
"You could have let me do it." The girl sashayed into the light, long pink hair bouncing behind her. "I'm sure I can win him over."
"You were my fall-back option," Durandal half-lied. The vision before him, his living facsimile of Lacus Clyne, was good enough to fool just about anyone. Alas, they were dealing with one of the very small number of people whom she could not so easily sway. Those who had known the Songstress of Peace personally were always going to be a problem, especially with the actual Lacus still running free.
"Oh!" the faux-Lacus pouted. "Don't you have confidence in me, Mister Chairman?"
Gilbert smiled indulgently. She could try all she wanted, but she wouldn't get anything out of him that way. His heart had been given long ago, and not for anything she could do better.
"I have complete confidence in you, Miss Clyne. You have surpassed my expectations."
"Then why am I still in here?" the false Lacus asked petulantly. "I'm going to have to debut sooner or later! Why is this taking so long?"
"Because the time isn't quite right yet." Gilbert momentarily thought of snapping at the girl, but decided against it. He had a good working relationship with her, all things considered, and it would gain him nothing to foul the atmosphere at this early stage. There would be time for harsh measures later, if that was what it came down to.
"Now, Lacus," he pressed, ever so gently. "You did say you would follow my lead, didn't you? You did say you would trust my judgement, didn't you?"
"All right," Lacus replied with a pout. "I'm just getting tired of waiting, that's all."
"If it's any comfort, it won't be for much longer," Durandal reassured her, smiling inwardly at the thought of what he was about to reveal. "I have received word from the Jovian Dawn that their business in Orb should be concluded within a fortnight. They have also accepted my invitation for a state visit immediately after that."
"They're coming?!" The fake Lacus clapped her hands, bouncing on her feet like a little girl. "I'm going to meet the Prince?!"
"I've decided on a private party in the Evidence 01 chamber. Aside from the Jovians, everyone there will either be in on my little plan, or else will think that I have lured Lacus Clyne back to the PLANTs. It'll be a good opportunity to ask the Jovians some questions, and for you and Prince Daniel to…get acquainted."
"I'm going to meet Prince Daniel!" the fake Lacus sang, bouncing from one foot to the other. "I'm going to meet Prince Daniel!" Gilbert wondered for a moment if she had heard a word he had said, and then the intercom buzzed.
"Mister Alex Dino is on his way in, Mister Chairman."
"Very well, thank you." Lacus managed to compose herself in time for the doors to slide open and a very angry-looking Athrun Zala to stride in.
"Ah, Athrun," Gilbert began, standing up to welcome his guest, switching to a concerned demeanour as he drew closer. "Are you all right?"
"No I'm not…!" Athrun snarled, then managed to contain himself. "I…I'm sorry, Mister Chairman. I just…"
"Won't you sit down, Athrun?" Gilbert asked, playing the sympathetic host.
"Thank you, Mister Chairman, but I'd rather stand."
"Very well." Gilbert sat back down. Athrun shot a glance at Lacus, then returned his gaze to a point somewhere in the middle of the desk. His brow was furrowed, his fists clenching and unclenching with a dark, simmering energy.
"It's a pleasure to see you, of course," Gilbert began fulsomely. "But what brings you to me so late in the day? I daresay it has something to do with the announcement a few moments ago?"
"It…" Athrun trailed off again. Gilbert wondered at the maelstrom behind the normally taciturn young man's eyes. Was it truly that important? Did his feelings really run that deep?
"Mister Chairman," Athrun eventually managed to say. "If your offer is still open…I have come to accept."
"Really?" Gilbert resisted the urge to impersonate the Cheshire Cat. "Are you sure you don't want to think it over some more? You are in a rather agitated state."
"Mister Chairman I…!" Athrun almost erupted again. "I've had a lot to think about." An air of sorrow and shame came over him all of a sudden. Gilbert saw the worried look on the faux-Lacus' face, and began to wonder if it was genuine.
"Athrun, are you doing this because of the Chief Representative?" Athrun's face snapped up, his eyes meeting with Gilbert's own. In that brief moment of contact, Gilbert knew he was right.
"It's not just that, Mister Chairman," Athrun admitted, deflating. "I can't go back, not now. The best I can expect is to be refused entry, at worst to be shot down."
"Athrun, I was not aware of the depth of your feelings for the Chief Representative," lied Gilbert. "But I'm fairly certain she isn't doing this of her own free will."
"No, Mister Chairman," Athrun insisted. "She's not being forced. They wouldn't go that far."
"Perhaps I should say that it's not her free choice," Gilbert corrected himself mildly. "There is a significant difference between the two. Doubtless she believes that what she is doing is in the best interests of Orb, and indeed of the whole Earth Sphere."
"But the Seirans are just using her!" Athrun protested. "They'll use her to take control of Orb and then take it straight into the Earth Alliance! It was everything she was trying to avoid!" Athrun lowered his head, his eyes squeezed shut. Lacus put a tentative hand on his shoulder.
"And yet…"
Athrun could not bring himself to answer, but Gilbert knew it already.
"You're still not quite ready to put on a ZAFT uniform," he answered for him. "You feel you would not be welcome, despite whatever Group Commander Joule might have promised. You also fear that it would represent a clean and final break with Orb. Am I right?" Athrun did not reply.
"As it happens, Athrun, I agree that it would not be a good idea for you to re-enter ZAFT, at least not openly." He paused as Athrun glanced up in surprise.
"Group Commander Joule means well," Gilbert went on. "But he is not ZAFT. It is likely that your return would cause rancour in certain quarters, and it is likely to be misinterpreted in others, especially in the political sphere."
"Then, what exactly do you have in mind, Chairman?" Athrun asked, his voice a little hoarse. "You said you wanted to give me the Saviour, but the council won't let you just hand it over to a civilian."
"Indeed they won't." Gilbert allowed his smile to widen. "That's why you will be handling it in your capacity as a freelance test pilot."
"A military contractor?"
"Yes. The paperwork will all be in order, and it would be an excuse for you not to enlist."
"Sir," Athrun replied, surprised. "That…isn't normal policy."
And it wasn't. Despite its pretentions, ZAFT had not been above making use of mercenaries and private contractors, even if they happened to be Naturals and ostensibly citizens of Earth Alliance member states. Many of the smaller countries had propped up their economies by providing mercenaries, Britain and Japan being among the best-known, but the global military labour market was vast and diverse. Experience could not be genetically-engineered, and mercenaries had proven quite helpful in some difficult environments.
But ZAFT policy had always been for directly contracted mercenaries to wear ZAFT uniform and be written up as ZAFT soldiers. The exception had been the mercenary armies of the African Community, who had strictly-speaking been allies, though under ZAFT command in joint operations.
"I'm changing the policy," Gilbert replied. "Besides, this is merely for the look of the thing. Everyone will likely assume that you are a member of the Special Forces under my command, so we may as well take advantage of it."
"I will have…independence?" Athrun asked, suspicion in his eyes.
"Up to a point." Gilbert reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out the contract. "It will not be practicable for you to take the Saviour and go where you please. Under the terms of your contract," he slid it across the table for Athrun to read, "you will be attached to the Minerva and subject to the authority of Captain Talia Gladys. As a member of FAITH she'll have the authority to maintain you as an independent operative."
FAITH, otherwise known as Fast Acting Integrate Tactical Headquarters, was one of ZAFT's new features. Separate from the Special Forces, members of FAITH were free agents, subject to no one but the incumbent Chairman or a fellow FAITH member of higher rank. They could act independently, plan operations, and even give orders on their own initiative. It was a very select distinction, having only been awarded to a few dozen individuals of proven ability and character.
"Of course," Gilbert went on, "I would advise you to be considerate of those you'll be sharing the Minerva with. The autonomy I'm giving you is unlikely to be universally popular, so you'll have to work a little harder to prove yourself."
"I understand, Chairman." Lacus bounced on her heels as Athrun took Gilbert's proffered pen and signed the contract.
"Excellent." Gilbert allowed his smile to widen as he stood up and reached out his hand. "Welcome aboard, Test Pilot Athrun Zala." Athrun took his hand after only a moment's hesitation.
"Now," he said, sitting back down. "If there's nothing else for the moment, I believe Miss Clyne has something to ask you."
"Have you eaten yet?" Lacus asked enthusiastically. "I've booked a table for two in the penthouse at your hotel! No cameras I promise!"
"Well I…"
"Great! After all, we are fiancées, right?"
Gilbert chuckled as the fake Lacus dragged a protesting Athrun out of the office.
Despite the circumstances, Athrun had to admit that it was a nice setting.
The room selected by whoever-it-was was indeed in the hotel's penthouse. It was quite large, more so than was entirely necessary, offering a fine view of the city below. There was also a very large ornamental fountain in the middle of the room, which to Athrun seemed rather extravagant.
He was in a nice room, seated at a fully laid table, complete with flowers and a single candle, opposite a young woman who for some reason looked exactly like his former fiancée, only a few hours after he had learned that his new fiancée, and love of his life, had just ditched him for a marriage of convenience with her own cousin. Alone.
Awkward.
Athrun supposed he should have put up more of a fight. He should have torn his arm from her grasp, shouted at her to get off his case, then stormed back to his room, locked the door, and spent a restless night brooding over what he had lost.
Maybe it was because he had known it might happen. Maybe it was because he had always suspected it, always feared it. He loved Cagalli, and at times could believe that she loved him back. But she was the Chief Representative, and he the self-made orphan of a genocidal madman, an exile with nothing to his name but the skill of his hands and the quickness of his mind.
And maybe it was also because he knew why she had done it.
"Athrun, do you prefer the meat, or the fish?"
The words drew Athrun from his reverie. He looked up, and saw the false Lacus looking at him expectantly.
"Uh…" He cleared his throat. "Who…are you?" The false Lacus looked momentarily surprised, then seemed to recover.
"Meer," she said, cheerfully. "Meer Campbell. But make sure you call me Lacus when we're around other people, okay?"
Athrun stared at her, his eyes taking in her features, seeking for some flaw, some difference by which he could tell her from the real Lacus. Contrary to rumour, Coordinators did not possess multi-spectral vision. But Athrun could still examine her in detail, even from the opposite side of the table. The line of her throat, the curvature of her cheeks, even the way the light shone on her.
Perfect. No, not quite perfect. The shade of her eyes was just a little off, slightly darker than Lacus' own. Aside from that, her similarity to the original was marred only by a pair of wide though by no means unhealthy hips, twinned with the most distracting bosom he had ever encountered.
How had they done it? How had Durandal made her so alike?
It couldn't have been reconstructive surgery. Athrun had seen a fair few cases during the last war, and had marvelled at the miracles the surgeons performed. But as miraculous as they were, the faces they had mended were never as they had been before, never 'good as new'. There had always been ways of telling, little signs to look for.
There were no such signs on Meer's face.
The starters were brought, and the pair ate in awkward silence.
"The truth is, I've always been a big fan of Miss Lacus," Meer finally said. "I used to love singing her songs, and people started saying I sounded like her. Then one day the Chairman called for me."
"So that's how you started doing this?"
"Yes! Chairman Durandal told me he needed my strengths. For the sake of the PLANTs.
"He doesn't need your strengths," Athrun said sourly. "He needs Lacus' strengths." Meer paused at his words, her head lowered.
"I know," she said, a little defensively. "But for now…" She paused again, and glanced out of the window.
"No, not just for now. Miss Lacus' strengths will always be needed, by everyone."
Athrun opened his mouth to speak, then noticed she was looking at her own reflection. Or rather Lacus' reflection.
"She's strong, beautiful, and kind too," Meer went on wistfully. "I'm just Meer. No one needs me."
Athrun wanted to say something, to cry out in denial, in protest. But nothing would come.
"But I don't mind if it's just for now." Meer suddenly brightened, the sparkle returning to her eyes. "If I can be of help to the Chairman, and everyone else. And I'm really glad I got to meet you, Athrun. I imagine you know a lot about Miss Lacus. Would you mind telling me about her?"
Athrun didn't know what to say. The hamster wheel that was his mind had long since jumped its housing and rolled away across the floor. A part of him yearned to fight it, to tell the girl in front of him that she was confused, that what she was doing was wrong, both in general and for herself. The idea that she could just become someone else, throwing away everything she had ever been, offended something deep in his soul.
Could anyone want to be Lacus Clyne that badly? Could her life have been so bad that to throw it away had been no loss? What was she running away from?
What was he running away from?
Durandal's face wandered into his mind. He remembered what the Chairman had said that day, not so long ago, on the bridge of the Minerva.
"A name reflects its owner's nature."
The flame died, the brief, bright flash of righteous indignation dimming into cold darkness. He was in no position to criticize her, to tell her that she had made the wrong decision. She was only doing what he himself had been doing for almost two years. She had merely gone a step further, and done what he had never been able to do. She had left her old name behind, and become another person.
Did he envy her for that?
Athrun looked away from Meer, unable to look her in the eye. He stared out over the city, silently pleading for something, anything, to send him a sign.
"Am I any better off than her?"
Onagoro Island, Orb Union, October 27th CE 73.
"So when are we leaving?"
Shinn Asuka would be the first to admit he was getting tetchy. It was bad enough that he had to be stuck in Orb for any length of time. But their stay had stretched to two weeks. He had spent as much of that time as possible in the shooting gallery and the simulators, as much to work off his pent-up aggression as to keep his skills in order.
"That's what you asked me last week," Lunamaria Hawke replied testily, striding along the corridor beside him. "And you'll get the same answer this week. We go when the techs are sure the engines won't blow up on us."
"Yeah right" Shinn snorted. "They're just being paranoid."
"It's not a risk we can afford to take," Rey za Burrel interjected from his other side. "If one of the chambers were to breach, it could take out the entire ship."
Shinn humphed, but he knew Rey well enough to trust his judgement. If he reckoned it was that much of a problem, it was probably that much of a problem.
It was embarrassing as much as anything else. The Minerva was ZAFT's latest warship, and would have been flagship if not for the Gondwana, which was five times its size and equipped with a command-and-control package that could handle the entire fleet. And yet on its maiden voyage, albeit not what had been intended, some of the nuclear pulse engines had shown microfractures in the combustion chambers. Though real danger would require the fractures to be somewhat larger, Captain Gladys was evidently taking no chances. Better several weeks laid up in Orb while the chamber walls were replaced than the chance her first command would end in a mushroom cloud.
As embarrassing as it was for something like that to happen. Shinn could accept that she had made the right decision. During an engine burn, each combustion chamber was required to contain and funnel what amounted to a laser-induced nuclear detonation. If one of them were to breach, the resulting explosion would be enough to blast or melt open the other chambers before anyone could do anything about it, incinerating the ship.
Which was why it wasn't the reason Shinn had gotten so angry.
"We shouldn't be hanging around here," he groused. "It's not as if we'll be welcome much longer."
"That's true," Lunamaria mused. "It's too bad. I kinda like this country."
It was true. It was the truth of Orb.
Shinn wasn't entirely sure how he felt, or how he should feel. His first reaction to the announcements had been near-incandescent fury, yet once he had calmed down a little, his feelings had shifted to a detached, cynical amusement. It was at that point that he began to wonder why he had felt so angry. After all, it wasn't as if he had expected anything better from the Athhas.
As they approached a corridor intersection, two figures rounded the corner ahead of them. One was a green-uniformed crewman, his shoulder patch and assault rifle marking him as a fleet armsman. The other was…
"What're you doing here?!" Shinn demanded, his face twisting in anger. Cagalli Yula Athha looked away, seemingly ashamed. The bravado and sanctimonious anger of a fortnight earlier was nowhere to be seen.
"I…" she began, her voice hesitant. "I'm here to see the Captain, to give my thanks for everything you've done."
"You think we don't know what you've been doing?" Shinn retorted, before anyone else could speak. "The Earth Alliance invaded Orb, but now you make a declaration of friendship with them?! And with the Jovians?! How selfish and irresponsible can you be?! Just how many sides are you playing?!"
"No!" Cagalli protested, unconvincingly. "It's not like that!"
"If you've become our enemy," Shinn roared, his fury erupting, "I'll destroy this country, with my own hands!"
He stormed past Cagalli, making a point of bumping her shoulder.
"But Shinn…!"
He could not hear her. Blood thundered in his ears, and his head felt like it was about to explode.
"Shinn!"
He ignored the calls behind him. He just wanted to get away. Away from Orb. Away from her. Away from the way they made him feel.
"Shinn! Dammit!"
Lunamaria's cursing cut through his rage. He stopped, shoulders hunched, fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to process the fury in his soul.
"Shinn, what is your problem?!" Lunamaria demanded. "Why the hell do you even care?!" Shinn could not bring himself to reply. It took him a few moments to gather himself enough to turn and face her. Rey was standing next to her, giving him that look.
"Look, Shinn, I could understand you being disappointed," his old friend went on. She looked and sounded exasperated. "I had a lot of respect for her, until she pulled this stunt. But you don't see me acting like a bad-tempered little kid!"
"Is that what you see in me?!" Shinn snapped back, his anger flaring up again. "Is that all you think this is?!"
"That's how it looks! But I'm charitably assuming that there's something more! So how about you tell me!"
Shinn cleared his throat.
"It's…not just her," he admitted, his voice hoarse.
"So it's the Jovians then." Lunamaria sighed. "What is it with you and them anyway?"
"I…I can't believe they're going along with this," Shinn hissed, forcing out the words. "With…with those people!"
"So that's what this is about?!" Lunamaria snorted contemptuously. "You're jealous because Prince Daniel had the nerve to talk to her?"
"Why do the Jovians need to have anything to do with Orb?!" Shinn barked, falling back on rhetoric. "Can't they understand what they're dealing with? We're their natural allies, not Orb!"
"It's called diplomacy," Rey spoke up, his tone its usual deadpan. "And gestures like that are meaningless. You shouldn't jump to conclusions based on these kinds of declarations."
Shinn looked away, his breath hissing through gritted teeth.
"I…I thought he'd understand."
"Who? The Prince?" Lunamaria suddenly grinned. "I should've known. You've been acting like you fell in love with the guy."
"I'm serious Luna!" Shinn snapped, cheeks flushing at her suggestion. "I…I felt something, in the battle, and just before we left. Some kind of…connection."
"Connection?" Lunamaria cocked her head. "You…know how that sounds, don't you?" Shinn opened his mouth to shriek a denial.
"I know what you mean" Rey cut him off, catching them both off-guard. The blond stepped forward, and put a hand on Shinn's shoulder.
"But Lunamaria's right," he said, looking Shinn straight in the eyes. "You shouldn't mention this to anyone."
"But…" Shinn was surprised, both by his words and by the look in his eyes.
"There are a lot of xenophobic rumours running around about the Jovians," Rey went on, his gaze intense. "This isn't something ZAFT should perpetuate."
"Yeah," Shinn said, unsure what else to say. "You're right."
Rey strode off down the corridor, leaving Shinn and Lunamaria to stare after him, wondering what he meant.
Onamuji Island, Orb Union.
Kira Yamato knew when something was up.
He didn't know whether it was the result of genetic engineering, or the trained intuition of a combat pilot, or if it had something to do with what Reverend Malchio had called the 'Seed'. Whatever the cause, he had always been able to sense when something had changed, especially when something was wrong.
He had first noticed it when Prayer Reverie had come running to him on the beach, asking him to come quickly. As he followed the boy back to the house, he had seen the black car standing just in front of a shell hole in the road. It was a car from the government motorpool, which meant that if the business was not official, it was certainly important. That combined, with the look in Prayer's eyes, told him that something was wrong.
Prayer led him by the hand to a jagged hole in the cliff side, made there a few days earlier by the mysterious raiders who had come so close to killing them all. Beyond it was the chamber in which the Freedom, brought out that night to do battle once again, was housed. The mobile suit dominated the chamber, looming over him as Prayer led him inside. Therein he saw Lacus Clyne, his common-law wife, along with their old friends and neighbours, Andrew Waltfeld and Murrue Ramius. With them was the person the car had brought, a large, motherly-looking woman he knew quite well.
"Myrna?"
"Master Kira!" Myrna seemed quite relieved. "I knew about the damage, but I never thought it would be this bad!"
"Yeah, I know," Kira replied conversationally. "So what brings you here?" His momentary cheer faded when he saw the serious look on her face. Myrna had been Cagalli's nanny when she was a child, and was more than a match for her wilfulness.
"Here." She held out an envelope with a wax seal. "Lady Cagalli asked me to give it to you directly, Master Kira." Kira took it, and saw that the seal was of the House of Athha.
"My lady is no longer able to come out here on her own," Myrna went on. "So she gave that to me to give to you in secret." Her head was lowered, and Kira felt a sudden foreboding.
"Is something wrong with Miss Cagalli?" asked Murrue.
"I hope she hasn't been hurt," Lacus commented.
"No," Myrna replied, her tone unchanged. "She's quite well, in fact." She looked away, seemingly ashamed. "It's just that she has moved into the Seiran residence in preparation for her marriage."
There was a collective gasp at her words.
"She'll be living with the Seirans until the wedding," Myrna continued, suddenly more animated. "But I don't know what will be happening after that. They haven't told me anything about their arrangements!" She paused, and Kira saw that she was very agitated.
"Of course, the marriage with Lord Yuna was arranged when they were little children, and I'd be delighted for Lady Cagalli if it was what she really wanted!" She raised her fists, as wanting to hit someone.
"But the way the Seirans are carrying on, rushing everything like this!" She rounded on Andrew, the force of her anger making him flinch. "The poor thing! She has no parents to advise her, or protect her! They're getting their own way!"
Shocked and bewildered, Kira tore open the envelope and began to read.
Dear Kira
I'm sorry I couldn't come and talk to you in person, but I'm not as free to move around as I was before. I'm currently living at the Seiran mansion, preparing to marry Yuna Roma in one week from now. This is all very sudden, but it can't be helped, considering the nation's mood and the state of the world. The country needs strong leadership more than ever, and our wedding is the best way for that to come about. It may be that I am powerless to prevent the war currently brewing between the Atlantic Federation and Eurasia, but it is my duty both to Orb and to humanity to take whatever chance, whatever possibility, fate may put in front of me. My marriage to Yuna Roma will strengthen our position vis-à-vis the Atlantic Federation, allowing us to negotiate a peaceful solution to the secession crisis, and our friendship with Jupiter will bring about a change the likes of which the world hasn't seen in centuries.
The ring enclosed here was given to me by Athrun. I can no longer keep it with me, and I didn't want them to take it from me. I thought about it, but I couldn't bring myself to throw it away either. I hate to ask this favour, but should he ever return, will you please return this to him, and tell him I'm sorry?
I can only apologise for all this. I do this for the peace of my nation, for the happiness of its people, and for the chance to spare the world another war. I promise to do my best in this.
Yours, always and forever
Cagalli Yula Athha
Kira shuddered, the paper and ring almost falling from his hands. He could almost sense Lacus' reaction as she read over his shoulder, and knew she felt the same way.
"How can this…how can she do this?"
"It's because of this secession business!" Myrna replied sadly. "It's been driving her to distraction! She's afraid that if there's another war it'll be the end of us all! And with Master Athrun going away all of a sudden, there's no one left for her to lean on!"
Kira felt sorry for Myrna as he heard her words. She had taken care of Cagalli since she was a baby, and doubtless longed to be able to protect her as she had before. But for all her status in the Athha household she was still a mere servant, with no means to resist the power of the Prime Minister. The atmosphere in the chamber had turned distinctly gloomy.
"Surely there's someone," Murrue pleaded, bewildered. "I thought the Athhas were related to European royalty."
"They are," Lacus replied. "But I doubt they'd be able to help."
"I suggested that she contact some of her old school friends," Myrna interjected. "But she said she didn't want to make trouble for them. It made me wonder if she wasn't up to something."
"Up to something?" Murrue asked, curious.
"With the wedding I mean," Myrna went on. "Especially since she asked that nice Prince Daniel to give her away."
"She what?!" Kira barked, looking up suddenly.
"She asked him in front of the legislature," Myrna repeated, surprised. "She even gave him her father's old ring. Haven't you heard?"
"Our web receiver's been on the blink since the raid," Andrew spoke up. "We've really been out of the loop."
Kira lowered his head as a terrible, sick feeling flooded through him. Mostly it was fear; fear for Cagalli, and for what might happen as a result of her decision. But there was also remorse. Terrible, soul-chilling remorse.
"It's my fault," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "It's all my fault."
"Kira?" Lacus took his arm, regarding him with worried eyes. All of them were watching him, wondering what had brought this on.
"She offered me that ring," he said. "She asked me to join her family, but I turned her down. I could've been there for her. I should've been there for her. Now there's only him."
He knew it in his heart. He had never properly gotten to know Cagalli, not the way a brother and sister should, and the knowledge of it only added to his sorrow, for if the wedding went ahead he would never get another chance. They would lock her away in the Seiran mansion, letting no one outside of their control even see her. They would make policy in her name, until she was so broken by isolation and imprisonment that she could be replied-upon to do as she was told.
She would break, that much Kira knew. Cagalli was strong, but she wasn't made to be put in a cage. It would change her, wear her down, crush her spirit. They would keep her there alone, with no one to trust or confide in, and they would certainly never let Athrun near her ever again. She would never get the chance to explain, to apologise, to find out if he still loved her.
And if all that didn't break her, there were other ways. With total control of Orb at stake, Kira doubted the Seirans would hold back. By the time the wedding euphoria faded and the public began to wonder what had become of their Chief Representative, there would be nothing anyone could do about it.
"Join her family?" Murrue spoke up, confused. "Is that what happened?"
"Yes," Kira replied, before Myrna could say anything. "It's the custom among the great houses. By offering him the ring, she was kind of adopting him into the Athha family."
"Adopting?" Andrew asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "Like a brother? Or a son?"
"It's more like asking him to be a godparent," Myrna interjected, having noticed Kira's mood. "If I'm honest, I don't think Lady Cagalli told him the whole truth about it."
"So then why?" Andrew asked. "Why go that far just so he can give her away at her wedding?"
"Well…" Myrna paused, and glanced back through the entrance, as if she feared someone was listening. "I…I could get into terrible trouble for telling you this, but there's talk going around of some sort of arrangement being made with the Jovians."
"Aside from the declaration of friendship?" Andrew narrowed his eyes. "Any idea what it's about?"
"Well I…" Myrna glanced back again, then decided that the die was cast. "I'm not sure about all this, but the rumour goes that a Jovian shuttle dropped something off the other day, and that something else was loaded on board after that." There was a long pause.
"Technology," Kira said. "The Seirans want the Jovians' technology, and likely gave some of their own in return."
"But which technology?" Murrue wondered. "In any case, if they have some agreement to exchange technology, this could be Cagalli's way of sealing the deal."
"The equivalent of signing in her own blood?" Andrew quipped, smirking.
"It's not that," Kira spoke up, drawing their attention again. "There's no need for it to go that far. I think she offered the ring because it means she can keep Daniel close to her."
"So the Seirans can't keep her completely isolated," Lacus mused, smiling. "She's outmanoeuvred them."
"But why would the Seirans allow it?" Andrew sounded dubious. "If what you're saying's true, this could mess up their plan. How come they didn't stop it?"
"They couldn't stop her," Lacus replied brightly. "That's the beauty of it."
"Miss Lacus is right!" Myrna proclaimed vehemently. "It's the bride's prerogative! If they tried to keep him out there'd be a dreadful scandal!"
Kira pictured the scene, almost chuckling at the image of Prince Daniel and his attendants standing outside the Seiran mansion, arms laden with wrapped presents, while some luckless servant begged him to go away and not make a scene. It raised his spirits somewhat to think that Cagalli was fighting back in some small way, that she had some kind of plan.
And yet…
"But what happens then?" he asked aloud, his tone dispelling the brief mood of hope. "Cagalli's still going to marry Yuna Roma. I can't believe that's what she really wants, or that it's even good for her. What's worse is there's really no way out."
And there wasn't. There were few ways by which Cagalli could walk out on someone like Yuna Roma Seiran with her reputation intact, unless he was so monumentally stupid as to use violence. Even if she could pin something on someone as slippery as Yuna, the scandal would damage her credibility as Chief Representative, while earning her the permanent enmity of House Seiran. She would likely be forced to step down as Chief Representative, and maybe even flee the country, to avoid a constitutional crisis and perhaps even a civil war. The fate of Orb was in the balance, and Kira knew which path Cagalli would choose.
No matter what the cost to herself. Or to Athrun.
Kira felt a pang of sorrow at the thought of what Athrun must be going through. The woman he loved had betrayed him for the sake of her country, and the first he'd heard of it was a news broadcast.
"He must be heartbroken."
"I can't let this happen," he announced, his decision made. "I can't let Cagalli do this to herself."
"Kira…" Lacus said, visibly worried. There was a long pause.
"Be sure, kid," Andrew said gruffly. "She won't thank you for ruining her plan, and the world definitely won't if a war breaks out."
"It isn't worth her happiness!" Kira snapped back, his feelings getting the better of him. "It isn't worth her life! If those people are so stupid they have to start another war, then Cagalli shouldn't have to carry the can for it! She's suffered enough!"
"But Kira…"
Kira looked into Lacus' sad, worried eyes, and his resolve wavered. Neither of them had wanted any of this. Neither of them had wanted anything more to do with the petty strife of the world around them. A world that seemed incapable of leaving them in peace.
"Mister Kira, you don't have to go," Prayer spoke up. "Let me pilot the Freedom."
"Hey, come on kid," Andrew spluttered, laughing. "You pilot the Freedom?"
"I can do it!" Prayer pleaded, his eyes wide and bright. "I know how to pilot a mobile suit! There's no reason for Mister Kira to get involved!"
"Now Prayer," Lacus interjected sternly. "Don't say things like that. I know you mean well, but you're too young to be piloting mobile suits."
"But I can do it!" Prayer wailed, sounding in that brief instant like the child he was. "Please Miss Lacus! Please let me help!"
"Prayer." Kira put a hand on the boy's shoulder, looking him in the eyes. "I'm grateful that you want to help me. But this is something I have to do myself." He straightened up.
"Well then," Murrue said, with an air of finality. "We'd better spread the word. Get the old team back together."
"I can't ask you to follow me," Kira replied, unable to meet her eyes. "If you do, there'll be no going back."
"You can't do it without us either." Murrue smiled at him. It was that warm, familiar smile he remembered from two years earlier. "You'll need somewhere to hide, and where better than the Archangel?"
"And you're certainly not leaving me behind!" Lacus interjected primly. Kira almost laughed.
"You can count me in," Andrew added with a smirk. "I've nothing better to do, and I'd rather be useful."
"Thanks, you guys." In spite of everything, Kira felt very warm inside. Then he remembered, and glanced down at a glum-looking Prayer.
"You can come with us on the Archangel," he said with a smile. "If Reverend Malchio agrees, that is. I'm sure you'll be a big help."
Prayer's mouth opened in surprise, then split into a smile of radiant joy.
"Thank you!" he exclaimed, flinging his arms around Kira's waist. "Thank you Mister Kira! I promise to do my best!"
"Okay okay!" Kira pleaded, embarrassed by Prayer's effusiveness. He glanced at Lacus, who giggled behind her hand.
That was heavy going. I'm sorry this took so long, but since I'm putting 'One and Only Son' on hold for the duration of the new Code Geass Gaiden, I'll have a little more time for this fic.
Not too many notes this time. The Martian characters are from the 'C.E.73 Delta ASTRAY' manga. Also, I want to make it clear that there will be no yaoi between Shinn and Daniel, despite how that scene might have looked.
A couple of points. I deliberately delayed Athrun's decision until after he saw Cagalli's declaration, because I thought him accepting Durandal's offer would make more sense in light of it. Also, considering the kind of media attention it was likely to get, it seemed strange that in canon he didn't find out about either the wedding or Cagalli's kidnapping until some time afterwards. I thought this would tidy up that little issue. As for him becoming a civilian contractor, I decided on this after a discussion with Wing Zero Alpha. We decided it would fit better with Durandal's claim that Athrun would be independent, while avoiding legal complications.
As for the Minerva's little combustion chamber problem, I came up with it relatively late on, because I needed a reason for it to have been hanging around Orb for several weeks. There is a good reason for this.
Anyway, next time. Cagalli is prepared for her wedding, while Kira prepares to do as he must. Nothing will go quite as anyone expects, Daniel will do something he'll regret, and the Minerva will have to defend itself against the forces of Seiran-controlled Orb.
Until next time…