Part Seventeen
From: 03@colony.net
Re: Fresh hell
As far as I can tell, there was a glitch in the system somewhere, because Treize isn’t that dumb. Somehow, Quatre and Wufei were assigned to subdue a resistance: namely, yours. Treize doesn’t strike me as someone stupid enough to not match ‘Winner pilot’ with ‘Winner holding’ and send him, and he assures me someone else was responsible for the mission specs. Oddly enough, I believe him. I’m going to go see Quatre. I’ll email you again later to tell you how he’s doing.
Trowa
****
To: 01@colony.net, 02@colony.net
From: 03@colony.net
Re: Disaster
Did I say disaster? I meant hell on earth. Somehow Quatre and Wufei were assigned to attack the Maganacs. Remember them, that little private army of Quatre’s? Right. Everyone seems all right, except Quatre. Apparently he had some sort of flashback or something, as far as I can figure, upon hearing them or seeing them or . . . I don’t know. The details are sketchy. I haven’t seen Quatre or Wufei yet, and even when I do, I’m not sure I’ll figure out what’s going on.
Did I mention that I’m on a private plane with Treize Khushrenada, who’s currently asleep on a sofa across from me? The urge to just kill him, on principle if nothing else . . . except . . . he actually seems concerned. And about them, not about the mission. He seems human. Or maybe I’m just sleep deprived. Both are likely at this point.
Please advise, before I lose my mind.
Trowa
****
Treize was attempting, very carefully, to peer over Trowa’s shoulder. He wasn’t having much success; the boy’s bangs kept getting in his sight line. He could see that it was an email. As Trowa’s head bobbed as he started to fall asleep again, he could see that the subject line was ‘Re: disaster.’ Then Trowa’s head snapped up. He hit send and slammed the top of the laptop down. Treize attempted to look innocent as Trowa glared at him.
“Are we there?” Trowa asked, after a long moment of suspicious silence.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Trowa shoved the laptop into his bag and picked it up. “Lead the way. Sir.”
“You don’t like me, do you.”
“I’m a bit put out at the moment,” Trowa replied. “And I’m wondering why you were peering over my shoulder.”
“Just curious.”
“Uh huh.” Trowa sounded unconvinced.
“Be nice and I’ll let you see Rigel first.”
Trowa just rolled his eyes.
“But you might want to fix your hair.”
Trowa shot Treize a glare of death, then smoothed his hair down and followed the older man off the plane.
Xiaolong was waiting. He looked tired. “Took your time getting here, didn’t you,” he said irritably.
Treize just gave him a look. “I see your mood hasn’t improved any.”
“Of course it hasn’t,” Xiaolong said.
“How’s Rigel?” Trowa interjected.
“I don’t know. The doctors won’t tell me anything or let me in. This accounts for most of my crabbiness.” He looked at Treize. “Fix it. Now.”
“Your wish is my command,” Treize said.
“Don’t mock me. It’s not a good time.”
“Just show me where his room is,” Treize said wearily.
Xiaolong nodded and started down the hall, with both of the others following. He stopped outside a door. There were doctors bustling around. “Now watch this. It’s like magic.” He put his hand on the doorknob. Instantly, a doctor popped up to inform him that he couldn’t go in. “See? Fix it.”
Treize cleared his throat. “Let us in. Please.”
The doctor made one of those ‘oh-my-God-it’s-Treize-Khushrenada’ faces. “Y-Y-Yes sir.” And he hastily backed out of their way.
“Thank you,” Treize said, pushing the door open. “Trowa, why don’t you go in.”
Trowa nodded and walked in. Rigel was sitting in bed, propped up by a few large pillows. His eyes were open, but unfocused. “Hey. You home in there?” He pushed a chair over to the side of the bed and plunked down into it. “Rigel?” Trowa reached out and took Rigel’s hand. He considered calling for Quatre, but decided that might do more harm than good. “Rigel, you in there? Talk to me.”
Rigel looked over and blinked a few times. “T-Trowa?”
Trowa moved him over in the bed a little and hoisted himself up to sit next to the other pilot, giving him a comforting hug. “You okay?”
“No . . .” Rigel hid his face in Trowa’s shoulder. “My head hurts. . .”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know . . .”
Nobody knows. Trowa resisted the urge to thud his head against the wall. “Okay, I know you don’t know what’s wrong. But what happened?”
“Those people . . . that we were supposed to fight . . . they knew . . . they didn’t know me. They thought they knew me. But they called me a different name. They said they recognized my voice and my Gundam, and that I’d left them with orders to protect this place . . . they called me Master Quatre, like I was . . . I was their leader or something. It all seemed so familiar and that voice . . . I knew that voice . . . and now my head hurts.”
Trowa searched for something to say.
“I don’t know what to think,” Rigel said in a small voice. “I trust Treize . . . I really do . . . but it was so familiar . . . and now my head really hurts . . .”
“Well, ask the doctors for some painkillers,” Trowa said, reasonably enough.
“I will, when they come in again . . . don’t leave, please . . .”
“Of course I won’t leave,” Trowa said comfortingly. He reached for the call button. “We’ll just get you some painkillers.” And maybe after you’ve fallen asleep, the doctors will tell me what’s wrong.
A nurse bustled in. “Can he have some painkillers?” Trowa said. “He has a headache.”
“Sure,” the nurse said.
“And tell Treize and Xiaolong that they can come in,” Trowa added.
The nurse got some aspirin and a glass of water for Rigel.
“Ne, Trowa,” Rigel said. “What happened to your hair?”
“I was hauled out of bed to come see you,” Trowa replied, with a slight smile.
“They woke you up?” Rigel sounded horrified.
“It’s okay. I just didn’t take the time to fix my hair. Should’ve done it on the plane ride, but I fell asleep.”
“Oh . . . sorry I asked, then.”
“Don’t worry about it. Take a nap.”
Before Rigel even tried to fall asleep, the door opened and Xiaolong and Treize came in. “How are you feeling?” Treize asked.
“My headache is slowly going away,” Rigel said. “Very slowly. Do you know who those people were?”
“I’m working on it,” Treize assured him.
Rigel looked like he didn’t believe him, but his headache won out and he didn’t ask again. Xiaolong walked over and took the chair Trowa had left. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he ordered.
Rigel looked small. “Okay?”
Xiaolong nodded, satisfied. “Now go to sleep.”
“With all you people in here?” Rigel asked.
“Oh, fine, we’ll leave,” Xiaolong said. “But I expect to see you looking better tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Rigel said.
“I’m going to go have a word with the doctor,” Treize said. “I’ll be back later.”
“Sorry I tweaked out,” Rigel said.
“You hardly need to apologize,” Xiaolong said over his shoulder as he and Treize left the room.
Trowa hugged Rigel. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Rigel said, resting his head against Trowa’s shoulder. After a while, he drifted off to sleep. Trowa tried to get up, then realized he was firmly stuck as Rigel’s pillow. He couldn’t reach his computer one handed, so eventually he just gave up and nodded off himself.
****
“Good God, that’s so cute, I’m going to be ill,” Xiaolong said, peering in at Trowa and Rigel.
“I didn’t realize how serious the two of them were,” Treize said.
“Ask me about their study habits,” Xiaolong deadpanned.
“No thanks,” Treize said. “Why don’t you go get some sleep and let me take care of this.”
“Where?”
Treize blinked. “Ask one of the doctors, I’m sure they can find something.”
Xiaolong nodded tiredly.
“Tell them I sent you.”
“What did the doctor say about Rigel?”
“That they weren’t sure, but they thought he might have banged his head, which would account for the headache.”
“They’re wrong.”
“Yes, I know they’re wrong. They want to do a scan, and that ought to pick up whatever the problem is.”
“Okay.” Xiaolong trudged off in the direction of bed.
Treize looked into the room again. He didn’t want to wake them, but the doctors wanted to do that scan . . . The doctors could wake them if they wanted to do it that badly. He looked at the laptop sitting on the chair next to the bed, then back at Trowa. He was very tempted to try to get to it, but he was sure Trowa would wake up before he could. With a sigh, he headed for a phone. It was past dawn. Une would be up by now.
She was, and immaculate as usual. “Good morning, Lady,” he said with a wan smile. “You’ve heard about last night’s disaster, I assume?”
“Of course,” Une said. “It was waiting for me when I woke up. Are they okay?”
“They seem to be, though Rigel’s having identity issues now.”
“Winner holding, Winner pilot. Somebody made a serious mistake.”
“I know. I want to know who, and I want their head on a platter now, before Trowa and Xiaolong get to them. And they don’t even know how big a mistake it really was.”
“I’m working on it,” Une said. “Unfortunately, these plans got worked on by half a dozen people, and I’m having trouble tracking down who originally suggested the target. Let me get back to you.”
“Make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m gone.”
“Of course. When will you be back?”
“In a few days, I hope. Unless there’s more wrong with Rigel than I anticipated, we shouldn’t need longer than that. None of them are injured, after all. See that both of them and Trowa are excused from their classes until we get back.”
“All right. Are they going to be able to pilot again?”
“I think so, but we might want some backup for them. Hm . . .” Treize closed his eyes. “Any ideas?”
“We don’t have any other Gundams unless you want to reclaim 01 from Zechs.”
Treize frowned. “Give orders for a third one. Whoever we find can use Tallgeese until then. Have all the mobile suit instructors suggest two or three of their best students. We’ll have try-outs when I get back.”
“Understood,” Une said. “Get some sleep, Treize-sama. You look like you’ve been run over by a mobile suit.”
“I’m awestruck by your vote of confidence, Lady,” Treize said.
“Sir.”
“All right, I’ll get some sleep. Let me know when you find out what went wrong.” Treize turned the vidphone off and wandered off in search of rest.
****
“Well, we have some very odd results,” Dr. Insignificant said. (Author’s Note: Yes, this man is Sergeant Expendable’s cousin. It’s a whole family. Kind of like the Assholes from Spaceballs.) “But I think we can account for the headache, and I don’t think it’s going to be going away any time soon.”
“Wonderful.” Treize said. “What are the odd results?”
“Well, you told us he has amnesia for the first fifteen years of his life,” the doctor said. “But oddly enough, the memories are all there and intact. It’s the neural pathway that leads to them that’s been destroyed. Then a secondary pathway has been constructed to a different part of the brain, where new memories are being stored. You know how they say you only use ten percent of your brain? Well, for one thing, Rigel’s using about twenty-five percent of his, but that’s besides the point. This new memory pathway leads to one of the unused sections, and it’s being used for memory storage. So he’s capable of forming and keeping new memories, as you can see. He just can’t access his old ones.”
(Author’s Note: As a psychology major, I (Kouri) can assure you that ninety-nine percent of this explanation is true and possible. Okay, right now we don’t have the technology that would be necessary to do what Zechs did, but in theory it’s all possible. Just thought I’d share that.)
“So . . .” Treize said slowly, “why the headaches?”
“See here?” The doctor tapped the dark spot on the neural map. “This is where the neural memory pathway should be. And it’s not. But see these little bright spots?”
“Yes.”
“That’s plasticity.”
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that term.”
“In short, it’s the brain’s attempt to rewire itself. It’s accustomed to the memory pathway being here, and it’s trying to put it back, for lack of a better term. But the brain is incapable of growing new neurons, so it’s spreading the old ones out and lengthening the axons to make new connections. Have I lost you yet?”
“I think I’m still with you,” Treize said.
“So that’s why his head aches. Basically it’s a case of his brain overworking itself. It’ll probably give up eventually, since it’s not actually impeding his life.”
“So it’s not possible to rewire it completely?”
“No. The gap’s too big. If you ever wanted to fix it, it should be possible, but you would literally have to open his head up and put new neurons in.”
Treize frowned. “Could you do that?”
The doctor made a face. “As I said, in theory, yes. But first you’d have to take a DNA sampling and grow some neurons for him . . . and then you’d have to implant them into the damaged area. Then you’d have to wait for them to wire into the system, basically.”
“If this were to happen, would they still be able to access the memories that are connected by the new pathway?”
“Oh, sure, that wouldn’t stop working. The brain would just go back to the normal functioning.”
“Fascinating,” Treize said, understating the case quite a bit.
“I could try it,” the doctor offered.
“No thanks,” Treize said.
****
Duo was in a remarkably pissy mood. Heero didn’t really blame him, and he knew better than to say anything. He was just letting Duo rant, presuming that eventually his friend would run out of steam. Then again, he might be wrong. It had been an hour, after all . . . but Heero knew that Duo was just worried, so he was trying to ignore his pounding headache, which Duo wasn’t helping at all.
Aspirin. Must find aspirin.
Heero normally didn’t take painkillers, but if Duo was going to keep this up, and it looked like he would for a while, he was going to need them.
****
“Sorry, sir.” Une looked tired. “I can’t find it. Nobody seems to know who suggested it. It just came out of nowhere.”
“Okay,” Treize said, knowing that if Une was admitting defeat, there was really no information. “But from now on, I review all their missions.”
“I knew you’d ask for that,” Une said. “And I have a list of names for the try-outs.”
“We should be back tomorrow.”
“What did you tell Rigel?”
“Nothing yet.”
“What are you going to tell Rigel?”
“Hell if I know,” Treize said with a sigh. “But I said I’d go see him soon.”
“Good luck,” Une said.
“Thanks.” Treize closed the connection and went to Rigel’s room. He was still in the hospital room, simply out of lack of a better place to put him. Trowa and Xiaolong were both sitting in chairs. The three of them appeared to be involved in amiable conversation. “We’re leaving tomorrow at dawn,” Treize said. “How are you feeling, Rigel?”
“Fine, I guess,” Rigel said, without much enthusiasm. “I still have a headache.”
“The doctor said he’d find you a prescription painkiller,” Treize assured him.
“You find anything out about what happened yet?” Rigel asked.
“Yes, have you?” Trowa glared.
Treize cleared his throat. “Well, we still don’t know who those people were. But the headaches are because your memories are trying to reassert themselves. It’s called plasticity. Your brain is trying to rewire itself. It’s enough to give anyone a headache.”
“Then how come I don’t have one?” Xiaolong asked.
“Because something triggered Rigel’s memories,” Treize said. “Nothing has triggered yours.”
“So I guess I really did know those people,” Rigel said thoughtfully.
Treize raised his hands helplessly. “I really don’t know.”
“Well . . . thanks for trying to find out.” Rigel looked dismal.
“I’ve also decided that for your next few missions, you two are going to have some backup. We have an older model of a Gundam, and we’re going to hold try-outs to find a third pilot. We’ll try to find someone who can keep up with the two of you.”
Trowa was looking pensive.
“So you three take it easy today,” Treize said. “I’ll see you later.”
****
“I thought he might show up,” Treize muttered.
“What?” Une asked, leaning over.
“See the kid in back?” Treize asked, nodding over the line. “With the hair that defies gravity?”
“I see him. What about him?”
“Oh, nothing, I just think he’s the fifth Gundam pilot.”
Une face-faulted. “You what?” she hissed.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Lady.”
“If you think he’s the fifth Gundam pilot, why is he just standing there?”
“I have my reasons,” Treize said.
“And they would be?”
“Well, for starters, he’s dating Rigel and the two are quite attached. I doubt Rigel would be pleased if Trowa was suddenly arrested or killed. And I really don’t want to make Rigel angry right now.”
Une considered this. “I suppose . . .”
“And secondly, Rigel and Xiaolong both trust me. This incident proved that. Therefore Trowa is relatively powerless in the grand scheme of things. Though I’m relatively powerless to stop anything he chooses to do. We have each other at a standoff. I’m just waiting to see what’s going to happen.”
They waited until Trowa reached the front of the line. “Wait, wait,” Noin said. She was supervising the try-outs. “I don’t even know you.” She peered up and down her list. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Let him try,” Treize said. “I’m interested to see the outcome.”
Noin looked over. “Friend of yours?”
“You could put it that way,” Treize said.
“Let’s not,” Trowa said. “Sir.”
Treize just smiled. “Go ahead, Trowa.”
It took Trowa about ten seconds to demonstrate his capabilities in a mobile suit, which far exceeded everyone else’s.
“Well,” Treize said, when Trowa emerged from the cockpit. “I think the matter’s settled. Everyone’s dismissed except you, Trowa, I’d like to see you in my office.”
“Can’t wait,” Trowa muttered.
“Une, show him in, will you?” With that, Treize stood and left the room, leaving everyone staring at Trowa.
“Um, this way.” Une looked confused. She showed Trowa into Treize’s office.
“Very impressive,” Treize said.
“Not really,” Trowa said.
“Well, I’m assuming we can dispense with the pleasantries,” Treize said.
“Then why did you want to see me?” Trowa asked. “I can’t do anything. You can’t do anything. There’s really no point to this.”
“I’m just wondering how you’ll explain your newfound talent to Rigel.”
Trowa glared. “If you’re not careful, I’ll tell him the truth.”
“You don’t like me, do you.”
“It’s nothing personal. Frankly, you’re a good deal nicer than I thought you’d be. But . . . you’re Treize Khushrenada, and I’m a Gundam pilot. I’m sure you understand the difficulties here. Besides, Quatre’s in a state of decided disrepair.”
“I take it the two of you were a couple before this?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. And trust me, your first kiss loses some magic when you have to have it twice. And this whole problem could be construed as your fault.”
“It could be, but it shouldn’t be,” Treize said. “To clear the record a little, I’m not the one who gave them that latest mission. And I’m not responsible for them losing their memories, either.”
“Who is?”
“Don’t think I’m going to tell you.”
“Don’t think I won’t find out.”
“Feel free to try. However, if I recall correctly, it was you and your companions’ decision to have Rigel and Xiaolong ‘rescued’ by us in the first place.”
“Quite frankly, we didn’t realize you’d be this inhuman,” Trowa said coldly. “Are you going to let me have this position?”
“Of course,” Treize said. “I do intend to keep them alive. I’m rather fond of both of them. I’m not going to send someone who’s second-best just because the small matter of your loyalty is in question. Besides, if my goal is keep them alive, apparently we have the same goal. There was no reason for you to give yourself away other than that.”
Trowa shrugged. “You already knew, or at least you suspected.”
“True,” Treize said.
“Just one thing,” Trowa said. “Don’t pit them against the other two pilots. I won’t fight my friends, and I won’t let Rigel and Xiaolong fight them, either.”
“I assure that it wasn’t my intention to do so,” Treize said.
“Good,” Trowa said, and he turned and left the room.
****
To: 01@colony.net, 02@colony.net
From: 03@colony.net
Re: An interesting situation
I just thought I should inform you that Treize has discovered my true identity. Before you get worried, this actually isn’t a disaster. He can’t get rid of me because it would upset Rigel terribly, and by the same token I cannot remove him. Therefore we’re just going to keep an eye on each other, but I thought you should know.
Trowa
****
Duo walked into the room to see Heero thudding his head against the desk, slowly but making a loud noise every time. “Uhm . . . Heero?”
Thud. Thud.
“Stop that, Heero.”
Thud.
Duo walked over and put his hand between Heero’s head and the desk, wincing as his fingers nearly got crushed. “Okay, that was a bad idea.” He took hold of Heero’s hair and held his head upright. “Stop that. What’s your problem? Geez, and you say I get pissy.”
“Read this,” was all Heero said, pointing to his computer.
Duo leaned over his shoulder and read Trowa’s email. He paused for a long second, then said, “Well, shit.”
“That sums it up pretty well.”
Thud.
****
“Trowa? Trowa, I know you’re in there . . .” Rigel kept knocking. “Please let me in . . .”
After a long second, the door opened. “Sorry,” Trowa said. “I was finishing something.” He stepped back to let Rigel in.
“Uhm . . . Treize just told me some interesting news . . .” Rigel said.
“Really? Which?” Trowa asked.
“That you’re going to be the pilot going with me and Xiaolong from now on?”
“Oh, that news,” Trowa said. “Yes. I am.”
“I thought you weren’t even in mobile suit classes.”
“I’m not.” He smiled. “Who knew?”
Rigel couldn’t help but laugh, then said, “Apparently, you did.”
“Well, yes.”
“Why weren’t you in classes if you’re that good?”
“I told you. I don’t want to stick out.”
Rigel glared. “Why not?”
Trowa looked at him for a long second, then said slowly, “I can’t tell you.”
“But -- ” Rigel began, frustrated.
Trowa reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Please, Rigel. Don’t make me tell you. Just trust me.”
Rigel looked like he wanted to argue, but just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Will you ever tell me?” he asked softly.
“I promise that as soon as I can tell you, I will,” Trowa said. “I don’t like keeping secrets from you, Rigel.”
“I wonder if my life was always such a mess,” Rigel said thoughtfully.
Trowa laughed.
“Well,” Rigel said slowly, “okay, I won’t make you tell me. But you’d better come up with something to tell Xiaolong, because he won’t back off.”
“He’ll have to,” Trowa said. “I’m not going to lie.”
Rigel sighed. “If you want to argue with him, okay.”
****