By: Spooks
~ ~ ~ ~
I was never the same after that. Speaking in terms of the lengthy long-term effects, the visual example of the extent of the power that had been forced into my hands was sobering and terrifying. Until it had been unleashed I hadn't really considered about how much my life would change, forever. The programming in my head had responded to my terror, and it had killed. I had killed. For the rest of my life, as short as it may be, I would always be a murderer. The self-defense excuse is arbitrary to me, and I don't think the guilt will ever completely go away.
But this deep pain only started to hit me after I recovered from the initial mind-numbing shock. For weeks after the assault, after the power ripped Mueller's soul apart, I was a complete nervous wreck. I was always afraid that something would trigger me, set me off. It was, it still is, a terrible burden that lingers over me even as I scribble these words in the growing darkness. I fear that it will tear free and reek havoc very soon, in fact. I do not want that. No more death, no more destruction. I don't want that.
Back to my story, though. I remember the attack in great detail, horrifyingly clear in my mind. The aftermath, however, was a disjointed series of images and sensory experiences. I heard Alex's broken sobs as I mechanically shuffled along, herded away quickly from the scene. The image of Mueller lying face down in his own mess of vomit and blood kept flashing in my mind, and as I felt the incredible power rest dormant in the back of my brain. Everywhere, demons, spirits, and auras were absent, replaced by anguished sobbing sounds and flashes of the scene, over and over everywhere I looked.
Finally I realized that we were back in our new room, it's bold colors and repressing atmosphere comforting me in a twistedly strange way. I was sitting stiffly in one of the chairs, and the other guys were crowded together on a couch in front of me, staring with wide shocked eyes that shone with various other emotions. Curiosity, horror, pride, and even fear greeted me through the eyes of my friends. Whether these emotions were for what I had done or for what they might one day do, well, I still don't know.
Slowly I started to come back to myself, and I was struck with the asinine realization that we were skipping class. That's me, Mr. Practical, even when I was half-coherent and had just killed a man. La la la. Maybe I really am crazy. From far away I heard a choked giggle, and I realized that it was coming from me. I blinked with the realization and felt eyes come into focus again. Silly me, I didn't even know they were unfocused. Maybe they weren't. Ah, the whole aftermath was fuzzy.
Still blinking, I felt the damp flutter of my soaked eyelashes against my cheeks as I rubbed my eyes on the back of my arm. I had to get a hold of myself, I was acting like a total weenie. When did I start worrying about appearing macho? Argh. At any rate, I started to come back to awareness, back to a reasonable facsimile of myself. Like I said before, I never would be the same, but at least I could try and be a different version of normal.
"Why are you guys staring at me? Do I have something hanging out of my nose?" Ah, there's nothing like a lame joke to completely convince your friends that you're not as okay as you want to be. It's weird, though, I still felt like I was moving on auto-pilot. The correct words the I would speak after such a trauma were lying right there, and the words had sprung forth from my trembling lips of their own accord. It was freaky, being guided around as a perfect little Duo-marionette.
Four sighs of relief and the rolling of eight eyes total were my only immediate answers. I closed my eyes and swiped at them again with my fingertips. I started to giggle, an ingrained reaction of my own personality, as I desperately tried to grip onto all the things that were running through my head. Soon I was laughing hysterically, my little shrieks of unbalanced merriment bouncing off the walls in little echoes that made me just want to laugh harder. I was gasping for breath, clutching my aching sides, and letting fresh tears leak from the corners of my eyes in rivulets. I watched with demented glee as the guys exchanged a few words, ending with Wufei standing up and bolting out of the room. My other friends tried shaking my shoulders, then slapping my gently, then just hugging me to try and stop my bubbling outburst. Then I felt a prick in my shoulder, and the world faded away with the putrid smell of death and insanity still lingering in my nostrils.
~ ~ ~ ~
I woke up to the now familiar sight of a featureless gray ceiling with dark energy funneling along in a current that never stopped flowing. Once again, I was in a bed in the lab portion of the secret wing. My head ached a little, and my face was a little puffy, but other than that I just felt confused. Why was I here? Then it all came rushing back. Surprisingly, the scientists did not erase any of the memories. I guess it was so that I'd always be reminded just how powerful I could be, and how I was still in their hands. You know, that whole "look-how-great-our-programming-is-and-you're-not-in-control-and-if-you-try-to-be-then-you-might-destroy-the-whole-colony-so-you-better-do-what-the-hell-we-say" deal.
Slowly I sat up, automatically putting my hand up to cradle my aching head and thus pulling at the IV line that was sticking out of the crook of my elbow below my rolled up sleeve. My slipper shoes were gone, for which I was grateful, they had been all but soaked in blood and vomit. I was still wearing the same pants, though. Ugh, there were little splatters of gore dotting their front, and the waist was still really loose from where Mueller had started to slice into them. A wave of nausea rolled over me, because at the thought of the dead man a putrid odor invaded my nose, accompanied with the final glimpse I had of Alex cradling his dead brother's husk and sobbing. Damn. I shouldn't have looked back. I hadn't even realized that I had. Damn.
Incredibly, I was struck by the fact that I was really hungry. Wondering how long I had been out of it, I looked at the monitor beside my bed, thankful that it was muted. I hate waking up to the cadence of an electronic beep. I figured that there weren't any cameras around or that they guy supposed to be watching me was napping because no one had busted in yet. Hey, let's face it, last time Zechs had been in here when I woke up. They would have rushed in here if they knew I was awake. This in mind, I carefully eased the IV out of my arm, then turned my attention to the sticky electrode that was pasted to my chest.
Grinning wickedly, I yanked the electrode off. I was very proud of myself from not yelping when it nearly pulled my skin off with it. Did the guys that make the sticky on electrodes think that they would fall off or something? Those things are such a pain in the…skin. Grinning as I watched the monitor flat line beside me, I tossed the offending electrode in its direction and almost laughed when it landed and stuck perfectly in the middle of the screen. Damn I'm good.
As I expected, a rush of faceless medical-types came flooding into the room. When they saw I wasn't dead, but sitting up and grinning like a maniac, they looked disappointed. Sighing, they left, one guy staying behind to check my temperature, then leaving without saying a word. I just sat there and waited, knowing that either Zechs or one of the scientists would come puttering in next. I was right, because not a minute after the med Drones had all departed, the door to my little room swung open to reveal not Zechs, not Doctor J, but both of them. Two, two, two for the price of one!
As they stepped inside, the door swung shut behind them of its own accord. Similarly, two chairs scrapped their was across the floor and to the side of my bed. While the two got situated, I noticed that Zechs never really looked directly at J, and that J had superiority just wafting off of his aura. Zechs was subdued, but cleverly repressed lines of hot rage danced along the outer edges of his soul's glow. It really made me wonder.
Looking at the two men, I was determined not to speak first. I was the shocked and half-crazy patient, after all. They should have to work for my attention. Finally, after about thirty seconds of silence, Zechs cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. J looked over at him.
"Perhaps you should guide this conversation, the patients don't harbor as much animosity towards you," the bionic scientist said with in a tone of weary patience.
Zechs sighed, then started to speak in a soft voice that fairly smacked of restraint, but what exactly he was restraining I could not discern. "Well, Duo, first of all we'd like to express our sincere regret at the episode you had, and our displeasure with ourselves for not knowing about that particular threat to you. Don't worry, though, the unpleasant aftermath has already been taken care of, at least, in terms of sanitation."
God, the sincerity and pure regret just poured unchecked out of his aura. I could tell he truly felt sorry for what had happened. Looking over at J, I just noticed impatience. I shifted my gaze quickly away from the doctor, I focused on what Zechs had last said. No wonder the other patients I had seen liked Zechs. If I didn't have those memories of Milliardo, I probably would have liked him, too.
My words echoed my other internal questions. "Sanitation? As in the cover-up? Hey, how long have I been unconscious, anyway?"
"Just an hour," the blond man responded to my last question. "And yes, in perfectly plain terms, the cover-up. Everything incriminating has been disposed of, and all evidence that would suggest something unnatural or unusual occurred has been taken care of. The most important thing we have to deal with now is you."
Oh. Goody.
Zechs continued. "Since we didn't anticipate you would have to defend yourself so soon, and with the unchecked force of your power, it is completely understandable that you will need help to deal with the aftermath of this event. Therefore, all growth exercises will cease for your test group until you finish with some special individual sessions with a counselor."
Well, gotta hand it to the Bad Guys, at least they knew borderline insanity inducing events when they saw them. Ah, the merits of living in a glorified asylum. I cleared my throat. "So, uh, who's this special counselor, and what do you mean, exercises will cease? What, no more torture sessions for any of us? Shouldn't you work on giving us some sort of damn control over ourselves? What if something like this happens to someone else?" My anger flared up at the thought of the same thing happening to the other guys. The internal pain I felt, and still feel to this day, is not something I'd wish on my worst enemy, never mind on the people that were my family.
"You're very lucky because when Mr. Khushrenada heard about this, he volunteered personally to counsel you. He's a man of many talents, and should be able to assist you in dealing with this," Zechs replied, and the blushing glow of pride pealed subtly off of him. "And actually, yes, there will be sessions in control, just no growth sessions. The blame for the lethal extent of your defense is entirely our fault."
I frowned, not sure how to take that. Control sounded like a good idea, but would their control over us become stronger because of it? Oh well, at least they were taking some blame for it, even if the annoyance just spiked off of Dr. J when Zechs had said that. Finally, in the little screwed up sarcastic section of my brain, I wondered if I'd get in trouble for calling Mr. Khushrenada "doctor" outside of these new sessions. Probably, knowing these paranoid bastards.
Finally, J spoke, his voice full of confusion and mild scorn. I had almost forgotten he was there, well, sort of. Blame it on wishful thinking. "Really, I don't know why you're so negative about your exercises. Some people would give anything to be in your position."
Zechs and I both turned and just stared at him. "Well, then wouldn't they have a choice? Why don't you do that, then, rather than forcing perfectly happy loony teenagers to be your little subjects?" Considering J's unquestionable impatience with our reluctance to be willing guinea pigs, I genuinely wanted to know the answer.
"Well, because there are many factors at work here that you are unaware of. For one, we must keep this project a secret because there would no doubt be bothersome and extensive protesting. Secondly, we would have competition. Because of those two factors alone, the chance of sabotage, and the danger to the subjects would be ten times greater. Besides, in case you haven't noticed, all subjects are hand picked, sometimes from their early childhood," J explained, making a true effort to be patient and placate my obvious anger.
I rolled my eyes. "You just don't get it. It really sucks to be us. It's painful, it's disrupting, and it's turning us into glorified slaves. Wasn't slavery outlawed was back in the precolony days? You claim to be improving the human race, but do the means justify the end? Is sacrificing the sentient minds of a handful of people worth that? You wouldn't think so if you were the one losing your choices, becoming a living tool for science."
After my little outburst I glared at the scientist. To my extreme annoyance he just looked a tad amused. I was just a little lab rat squeaking. Zechs' expression and aura were unreadable, and I could tell he was purposely dampening them. Wonder why he'd do that? Did he approve of my speech, or was his anger so great that he felt the automatic need to shield it?
Dr. J just shrugged slightly and stood up, his metal braces squealing as he straightened his legs. "You will come to understand," he said, a small smile gracing his slightly wrinkled face. That said, he creaked his way out the door. Zechs followed him, not bothering to move the chairs from their places by the bed. This time he used his hand instead of his mind to close the door after them.
They had barely left when the door swung open again. Groaning in annoyance, I slumped back down on the mattress, closing my eyes briefly. No doubt another medical Drone had come to poke me with something sharp. If I kept my eyes shut, maybe it wouldn't sting so badly. But instead of a prick on my arm, I just heard the soft scraping of one of the chairs being moved closer to the head of the bed, and the quiet sound of a body settling down into the seat.
I flopped my head to the side, and with as much of my cynical pride as I could muster, I opened my eyes, determined that whoever had sat down would get the message and go the hell away. As soon as I saw who it was, though, my face went from sarcastic to shocked and then to confused anticipation. It was Mr./Dr. Khushrenada. He looked uncomfortable in a spotless but too small lab coat that hugged his shoulders. It was undoubtedly wrinkling his impeccably ironed shirt.
"Hello," he said, smiling for my benefit. "I'm hear to speak with you a bit, Duo. And please, while we're in these little sessions, feel free to call me Trieze."
"Uh, okay," I said, sitting up again. Not sure what to say, and for once completely out of sardonic comments, I just sat there.
"Just so you know, for your comfort I've asked that none of our discussions be recorded in any way. No cameras and no tape recordings, because not only do I have the authority to request that, but I consider it a hindrance if I really want to help you," Trieze said smoothly.
"Oh," I said articulately. Argh. I hate being caught momentarily speechless. I mean, here Trieze was, telling me something really nice and pretty important and "oh" was all I could mutter.
"Well, I'm going to let your friends in here to speak with you now. Because I think it would be more therapeutic for you not to be worrying about your choice of words, I will make sure that your conversation remains unmonitored while you are in this room. It should help you recover. I'll see you later, okay? Oh, and before I forget, the temporary office for our sessions is the last door on the left in the hallway where your living quarters are located," With that, Trieze stood, shook my hand gracefully, and walked to the door.
"Um, hey, thanks," I finally managed to gather my wits together enough to stammer something out. Earlier I had been in sarcastic glory, but all it took was someone being nice to completely floor me.
Turning as he stood in the doorway, Trieze just smiled elegantly. "Not a problem. And remember, back in class you'll still have to call me by my formal name," he added with a tiny fork of amusement in his voice. Then he was gone, leaving the door ajar.
Not ten seconds later it opened again, swinging with such force that it slammed against the wall with a loud bang. In stalked Heero, followed closely by Wufei and trailed by Quatre and Trowa. Heero plopped down in the chair that Trieze had so recently vacated, and Wufei took the other one. I noticed that Meiran had actually braved entering the "bad" part of the wing, and she was hovering so close to Wufei that she was actually overlapping him a little bit, causing their auras to mingle more than normal. Quatre sat down on the foot of my bed, next to my feet, and Trowa stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. For a moment we all just sat there, me looking at them, them staring at me.
I cleared my throat. "So, uh, what's up?" Well, it wasn't the most intelligent conversation starter, but it was better than nothing at all.
"Do your really want to know right now?" Wufei asked, surreptitiously looking around the room.
"Believe it or not, no cameras," I replied, catching what he was getting at. Noticing the raised eyebrows in response to my answer, I continued. "Yeah, I know, hard to believe. Mr. Khushrenada said it was true, and I sort of suspected earlier. Had to yank the cord on the heart monitor to get someone in here. I guess it makes sense," I finished, shrugging.
"Well, if you trust it, then that's enough for me," Quatre replied after a second of silence. "But anyway, how are you doing? Do you want to talk about what happened? When the, uh…you know, happened, we all felt this huge rush through that weird connection thing, and then…well, yeah."
"Oh, that was specific," I groaned, rolling my eyes. Then I got serious. "Look, I'll talk about that when I'm ready to, and right now I'm not. I'm not okay, but in a little while, maybe a long while, I might be. But hey, moving right along, did they tell you the news? No more big bad painful experiments just yet as long as I'm still 'recovering.'" I made air quotes with my hands at the last part, grinning slightly.
"What, no. They didn't tell us that, they just said that you had woken up from the sedatives," Quatre responded quietly. "Sorry about that, by the way, you were acting, well, uh, crazy." Poor guy was obviously uncomfortable with the subject. I didn't blame him.
"Well, then I'll fill you in on the new changes," I went on, glossing over the unpleasantness quickly. No sense in dealing with that right now, later would be better. Much later. "Mr. Khushrenada, incidentally, is also a doctor, and I'll be seeing him to get better or whatever. I'm planning on dragging that out, too, because like I said, they promised not to move forward until they think I'm mentally sound again. See, with what happened, my brand new artificial inserted defenses kicked in a bit too strongly, and way out of my control. But anyway, we're all going to be working on control with our new whatever you want to call 'em." By this time, despite my casual babbling, I was reduced to staring down at my hands while they fiddled with the hem of my shirttail.
"Well, we're not doing any good staying here. Let's go," Trowa finally said, breaking the long silence. As always, my tall friend knew just what to say. So we left, filing out of the room slowly, me leaning heavily on Heero. I was still feeling a bit woozy, not to mention shaken up internally. The feeling lasted for a long time.
~ ~ ~ ~
Time passed slowly. For about two weeks none of us were taken in for any of those new control exercises, and we went to classes just like we normally would have. The only real noticeable difference was my skittishness around the vast majority of people. I became one of those kids you didn't want to bump into. I took to almost hugging the walls in both the crowded and the empty corridors. After what had happened, I didn't want anyone to accidentally set me off. I knew it was stupid, but hey, it was instinctual. I couldn't make myself just boldly stride along, bumping into people. Color me a tad bit too careful. Can you honestly blame me?
Things look different after having a traumatic experience, the same sort of change that comes over you after you've tried to kill yourself. Things that were once important seem frivolous, and those silly people whose opinion might have actually mattered just sort of fade away. The only things that remain are those things that you truly love to do, and those people that stay become much more important. It's like walking out of a fog, or turning on the light in dark room. The important things get much more attention, and the people that you truly care about become central.
I spent more time speaking with those few people I cared about outside of my little family. I spent a couple of afternoons with Howard and Sylvia, talking about everything and nothing and just hanging out. I stopped worrying about people seeing the scars on my arms, when I was hot, and I'd even go so far as to roll up my sleeves. After all, I wasn't the only person in here that had them. Maybe if someone else say them, then they'd know they weren't alone.
Another thing that changed for me was my attention to my classes. Most of the time I just tried to slide on by, content with passing, just not to concerned with excelling. Now I threw a bit more attention to my studies, realizing that if I ever could get out of here then perhaps I could use these skills. Whatever. I just felt more compelled.
One thing that really got more attention was my drawing. Before I had only sketched in art class, or painted, or whatever the project du jour happened to be. Maybe I'd doodle a little bit in classes if I was bored, or would work on a project outside of class, but now…Now I was drawing like mad. Every blank surface begged to me to be illustrated, and I started to get these images in my head that just had to come out on paper.
It was really odd, it was like I had always had this sort of talent, but now I suddenly had all this inspiration, this need to draw. Maybe this is how those mad poets feel when their muse takes a hold of them and they can't sleep for days while they scribble down verse after verse, rhymed and blank, epics and sonnets, whatever may strike them at the moment. I was taken by my need to sketch, anything and everything, sometimes just random doodles, sometimes something as deliberate as a portrait or landscape. My ability to capture what was in my mind on paper was coming easier and easier with each successive drawing. It was great.
During these two quiet weeks, I went to see Mr. Khushrenada, or Trieze, if you will, just twice. I still wasn't ready to discuss anything, and I knew by drawing this out then I would ultimately put off any new "growth" exercises. Despite the temptation of more power, I knew that this would be not only dangerous as hell control wise, but would probably just put us that much deeper into programming and submission to the wills of the scientists. And that wasn't exactly the best pay off in the world just for a little more brainpower.
It was odd, talking to the administrator/math teacher/psychologist/probably a bunch of other things. Trieze was extremely personable, and had a way of speaking between his words. Nothing he said seemed to be completely pure of duel intent. I really had to pay attention to the tone of his voice, as well as the words coming out of his mouth. I got the general impression that he didn't completely approve of the St. Dymphna project, or anything that went on in the lab areas. Of course, nothing at all in his words or demeanor pointed me in that direction, no snippets of sarcasm, not spikes of anger in his aura, nothing seemed out of place, but still, I got this really odd feeling. Of course, I was getting an odd feeling about a lot of stuff then, so I wasn't sure just how odd this specific feeling was. Hm. I hope that made sense. I'll elaborate a bit more on this later.
But anyway, in the little temporary office there were no cameras or anything, and Treize said that since it was just down the hall from our room, that we could just duck in here if any off us felt like escaping the gaze of "Big Brother." He just asked that we knock first and not spend more than about half an hour at a time in there because he didn't want to get in trouble. I wondered who exactly would give him into trouble, but I guess everyone's got a boss. It was really a great boon to all five of us to have that little place to just relax, if only for a moment, and I think that it really helped me just to have that little bit of refuge.
After a little while I started to finally settle down and adjust to my new definition of normal. It was changing all the time. Normal really is a relative term, ya know? As soon as I started to show my old "normal" behavior patterns, namely, babbling like a moron about anything and nothing, groping my boyfriend, eating normally again, they decided to it was time for some lessons in control. Well, it was more like exercises. You know, like calisthenics or something. These were specific, and some of them were pretty fun. Often we'd get to work with each other, and in those times when the connections were opened up and we were using superhero type talent it was in a word, awesome. It was definitely a rush, and the connection really helped me deal with my experience.
Huzzah, bully for our connection. The new control sessions explained a lot in their own strange sort of way. Well, sort of. At any rate, they were usually pretty cool. The first one was the best, simply because of the whole novelty of it, and it was the only one we got to do as a group of five. Great fun.
~ ~ ~ ~
Well, where exactly should I start with these control exercises? How about at the beginning, like any sane creature would start. Yes. Okay. Now that we've got that settled, let's get on with it. Like I said before, the first one was the only exercises that all five of us were present together.
On the appointed day, after all our classes were done, we were ushered into a large room filled with lots of squishy foam balls of assorted sizes and colors. One entire wall of the room was made of glass, and a few faceless scientists sat at computer terminals while J, Zechs, and even Trieze sat together at the front of the bank of computers right in front of the glass. In front of each of them was a small microphone, which evidently allowed them to speak to us through a small speaker placed in the upper corner of the room.
"Okay, today we're just going to work on controlling that interesting connection you five have," J said, his voice heavy on the microphone. He then turned laboriously in his chair and said something to one of the Tech-heads. A moment later the walls vibrated slightly and a deep hum came from every flat gray surface in the room. A palpable change came over the atmosphere, both in the physical and the ethereal sense. I blinked, and suddenly my vision was expanding, letting me glimpse traces of things that I hadn't clearly seen since they had stuck the big blocks on our minds.
I also started to hear faint whispering sounds, and with the addition of mischief sprites that were balancing precariously some of the foam colored balls, I saw impressions of spirit activity that I would have otherwise missed. Then there came a flash, and the room changed slightly. As soon as it came, it was gone, and I was slowly realizing that I could physically feel the thoughts of the friends as they too experienced the connection. Then there came a slow rising, and from somewhere in the connection I felt a sensation of awakening. Then the humming from the walls stopped, and we waited in nervous anticipation for either further instructions or some sort of stimulus to react to.
A slight squeal of feedback came over the small speaker. "Ahem, sorry. Now, just communicate with each other, feel things out, so to speak. It's very important that you feel comfortable interacting. It's much healthier and more beneficial to you to cultivate this connection," Trieze said smoothly, and once again I got a slight sense that there was more to what he was saying than just his words. I felt this sense confirmed four times over through the connection with this thought.
And so we did as we were told. At one point we just stood there and looked, listened, and felt through the perspectives of each other, trading our abilities around. Then I got this wicked fun idea, and I learned that I could shield my thoughts if I wanted to. Without warning, I managed to carefully crouch down and retrieve one of the foam balls scattered on the floor. Picking up a particularly large red and squishable ball, I turned and heaved it at Wufei, beaning him right on the side of the head. Laughing, I took down the mental shields to get his reaction. To my surprise, a soft foam projectile bounced off the back of my head. Standing innocently behind me, rocking back and forth on his heels, stood Quatre. And thus, the great Squishy Foam Ball War was waged.
After a while, as we just launched the stupid foam balls at each other, shielding and making temporary alliances all without saying a word, I also found that we could throw the balls without actually having to touch them. Yes, folks, we slightly were telekinetic, at least enough to move those foam balls. Or at least one of us was, maybe two, and the rest of us were tapping into that. It was all about the connection. It made me wonder about the actual source of that soul tearing power that I had used, or that other sense that I got a few times before. Was it from me, or from someone else? Where did I begin and the others end? What would happen if one of us died? It was all fun and interesting and completely frightening. Just another normal day in the asylum.
Of course, all good things must come to an end, otherwise we wouldn't appreciate them. After what was probably an hour or so of random wandering around, temporary Squishy Foam Ball Battles, and just plain turning inward to contemplate our inner space, another deep thrum came from the walls, ceiling, and floor. Gradually the sense of connectivity receded, and I was struck by the utter loneliness I felt. Then my vision also retracted back to its "normal" allowance. It was like having blinders put on, and with the loss of the preternatural borrowed senses and connection, I felt more alone than I had ever felt in my entire life. It was disconcerting, to say the least.
"Okay, thank you, you may leave now," J's voice barked through the speaker, his breath scraping harshly against the sensitive microphone, causing a tiny squeal of feedback.
The door opened and we stumbled out, having to either lean on each other or the walls as we shuffled along. It seemed that we had adjusted quickly to our shared senses, and the sudden extreme dampening of the connection hit all of us pretty hard. After we reached our room, it took us the remaining hour before dinner to get used to not being completely linked again. It's really odd how quickly we had gotten used to being so together, and then taking so long to get used to being apart.
I guess humans really are social creatures, and this could be some great parallel for our society as a whole and how we really do need other people to survive and no man is an island and all that stupid crap. I just know that being alone again really sucked, even if I wasn't actually alone. Oh, Lord. Now I'm not making any sense. Hopefully you'll understand what I mean. Here I was, surrounded by my pseudo-family, but not as close as I knew was possible. It's like having a friend that you used to know really well, and you're still very friendly with, but you're just not as close. It's awkward in a strange sense, but comforting to know that you're still on good terms. Let's just say that I was feeling a definite sense of loss, even if I hadn't actually lost anything that would have naturally been there at all. But then again, being connected had felt like the most natural thing in the world. But I'm rambling again, and I must once again apologize. I've got to get on with it and tell you about our individual and partner work.
It started out in basically the same way, us going into a room with random harmless objects and just being allowed to get used to the connection and our own heightened brain function. A freeform exercise, playing. Different combinations got different reactions, and the extent of the reactions and communication depended a lot on our own interpersonal relationships.
For instance, Heero and I worked together extremely well, as did Quatre and Trowa, for obvious reasons. Wufei worked best with Trowa, but also partnered up well with the rest of us. When we had little trios, Heero, Wufei, and I worked better than Heero, Quatre, and me. Trowa, though worked remarkably well with Heero and I, because our abilities lined up in one hell of an interesting manner. Heero or I separated, though didn't do that great working with Trowa and Quatre, although I fit in better than Heero did. It's all about how our abilities could find ways to operate and how our friendships worked.
I worked pretty well with everyone, though. I'm not too sure why, but I think I somehow ended up linking everyone together in a warped kind of way. I mean, I was the first to connect solidly with Heero, acting as his bridge to the others. Quatre and I had a lot in common, and through my deep friendship with him I was able to connect with Trowa. Wufei's abilities of supernatural sight paralleled mine, as did our pasts concerning the loss of people we loved. Through the strong links, we were able to forge unbreakable connections with those that would not otherwise be possible. And this was reflected in our experiments in control with the smaller groups, the sharing of our minds.
Then the scientists started adding objectives to our control games. As the freeform exercises had progressed, it became clear that each of us had a sort of specialized talent that the rest of us could borrow, but not control or conjure completely. It seemed that no matter how well connected mentally we were with each other, as individuals we still had identity. Which made me wonder about what I was beginning to think of as my mild sparks of erratic telekinesis. Was it really all mine? Certainly our talents overlapped a bit, but strength of the abilities was limited between us. Only when we were all together did everything flow freely. Ah well, it's something else to think about.
But like I was saying, we each seemed to have our own little special abilities, related to our original "delusions." The doctors thought that our potential all pointed in different, but sometimes slightly overlapping directions, as though each of us had a different portion of the brain that was awakened by the experiments. Eventually, they planned to wake up more brain percentage, but they reasoned that they almost had a full 100% working brain between all of us. Oh God, putting like that it makes us sound like we're stupid or something. Let's keep in mind that unless you're like us, you only use a teensy weensy little portion of your brain, okay, smart-ass?
Wufei's abilities had expanded his spiritual vision, obviously. It seemed that he had a pretty good working ability to control and manipulate spiritual energy, and he was getting better and better at communicating with the spirits that Zechs would somehow bring in for our purposes (I have no idea how he managed that, other than turning off part of the blocks that they had mechanically built into the walls). Outside of the lab environment, they started to show themselves conspicuously enough that Wufei could also communicate with them with his control blocks back up. It was tougher, but now that most of the ghosties knew that he might be able to help them out, then they were willing to speak through Meiran to just say "hi" or whatever.
When I was partnered up with Wufei in the control exercises, I could hear the spirits' voices when they spoke to him, but I couldn't actually discern how exactly Wufei was talking back to them. Of course I could see them, I just couldn't really talk with them. So I'd sit there and watch, and occasionally Wufei would use my sight to communicate with whatever little demons might be running around the room. It was odd, though, how I could sense the communication taking place, but not participate.
Wufei also was able to heal some small injuries, too. I think it came with the manipulation of the spirit energy or something, I'm not too clear on how it works, even though I felt and saw it in action. You'd have to ask Wu about it, it's his thing, after all. He was able to heal minor cuts and headaches quickly, almost out of reflex, like he had fixed his eyesight. Not only his ailments, but other people's afflictions were within his reach as well. A few times some random medical person was brought in, and Wufei would just give them this little tweak and their headache/stomachache/sore pinky toe/whatever would be just fine. Outside of the lab all five of us found ourselves suspiciously lacking those minor little bruises and normal every-day pains, and we speculated that this healing ability just went about its own business, too strong to hold down completely. It could have been just a subconscious little kick from the mental defenses to keep us all healthy, but I privately thought that it might be just too powerful a sense to be totally repressed.
As for Heero, well, I often found myself paired up with him more often than not, and our connection was pretty strong both in and out of the lab environment. I finally found out how such a scrawny guy could be so strong when I saw him float things (and me!) around the room easily. Through that deep bond that we shared, I figured out that his telekinetic ability had been what had brought him to the scientists' attention in the first place, as well as his strange habit as a baby to have things appear out of nowhere into his chubby little fist. He sent me that particular vision during a session, and it almost caused me to laugh out loud to see a much younger looking J's jaw drop in shock in the early memory of a long lost baby toy appearing, as good as new. No matter how far back it seemed that Heero had been in the scientist's custody, and he had no memory of anyone else before them. No wonder he couldn't speak. Jesus. How largely unpleasant.
So anyway, Heero used his telekinetic ability every time he lifted something heavy, just using his arms out of habit and getting that extra "oomph" from his mind. All those times that he seemed to move so quickly, he was utilizing his completely automatic natural instincts that had come from his telekinesis and his ability to mess around with time. Ah, and that time ability was a doozy, let me tell you.
Heero could literally jump through time at will, almost, just observing during most of it, but sometimes able to grab something and take it back with him. And it was as though he had never left when he got back from these little trips. Well, trips to the past anyway. He operated largely on his own memories, and couldn't really just go jaunting off to whenever and wherever he chose, but only for a quick glance as an observer, usually. If he was connected with me, then sometimes my memories governed the trip, but it was so far only the memories that we had shared, the same memory from a different point of view.
Heero was very uncontrolled when he was trying to utilize this ability, unlike when it kicked in instinctually. Seemed that he could do it if he weren't thinking about it. That's where I came in. Somehow I could act as a guide, my grip on ethereal energy somehow connecting with the fibers of time and allowing Heero, through our connection, to go certain places and times at will. I'd really have to watch it, though, because a stray thought could show us some pretty scary or unpleasant things, accidentally influencing the trip. For instance, I guess I was still mulling over the death of Mueller, because at one point we were there again, seeing a vision of the closet in all its gory glory. It was surreal seeing myself, watching the scene unfold as though I were a mere observer instead of participant. Heero was absolutely appalled at the ferocity of the scene, and for weeks afterward he wouldn't let me out of his worried sight.
Another time I was just letting my mind wander here and there, between morbid and depressing to melancholy and weirdness. Then Heero pulled something from the time stream quickly, as he had a habit of doing. When he did that kind of thing I usually didn't get a glimpse of the place or time it had come from, but I think that somehow Heero used his instinctual control, his specialization, to make it easier for him. Later, when we were back in the room, lying down to sleep for the night, he finally showed me what he had pulled from the time stream. They were my long forgotten razor blades, which I still have today, unused beside this rapidly filling notebook. Back in the past, he had pulled them that far in the future. It boggles my mind, and I'm not going to try and understand it, but there was more to Heero's time vision than mere uncontrolled jumps and precognitive visions. Despite Zechs' claim that I had great potential, I wondered if I'd ever have enough to come close to equaling the power residing naturally in Heero's skull.
That reminds me, you may have noticed that in conversations as of late, at least, the ones not taking place in that strange space in our connective minds, that I've not mentioned Heero writing much or carrying around his notebook. That's because with the connection somehow came an easier understanding of what the mute boy was trying to communicate without him actually having to put it down on paper. It was a rare moment that he even needed to "speak" at all, or write, or whatever. It was something that the scientists couldn't block outside of the lab, or maybe it was just due to us becoming closer as a group. Not too sure which, maybe it was a connection of the two. None of us were full-blown psychic friends, and not that the communication was all that specific, but we were getting damn good at speaking without having to say a word, and that went for every one of us. Useful talent. You can't get caught passing notes in class if you're not using paper, now can you?
But anyway, on to Trowa. Trowa, Trowa, Trowa. I was partnered up with him almost as much as Heero, but for different reasons. Like Wufei's talents, Trowa's matched up extremely well with mine. We all knew that he listened to the little worry demons and other assorted beasties, but what none of us really realized is that sometimes he talked back, but not out loud. He had some sort of mind-meld thing going with them for a while that none of us picked up on, even though it's obvious looking back on it. I mean, come on, he was always staring off into space. Little worry demons couldn't be that interesting, now could they? When the blocks were let down and he was allowed to hear a wider range of the little supernatural creatures and the occasional stray thought, well, his weird communication thing also got strengthened. It was his thing that the rest of us could not comprehend, but we could get a faint glimpse of through the connection. Like Heero's time manipulation and Wufei's spirit communication, we could only get a vague understanding what was happening, and we were unable to "borrow" it.
When Trowa and I were partnered up, I would just sit back and observe, usually hearing the cacophony of the thousands of voices of creatures, but none of the thoughts that Trowa usually picked up along with them. It seemed my abilities weren't exactly pointed in that direction. With my sight of the creatures he was speaking with, Trowa could communicate with them that much easier. It was cool, Trowa explained that the little creatures I had so long called demons were just doing their jobs, and that they always served a purpose ordained by fate. At least, that's how Trowa put it. I have a feeling he was watering down the explanation, and that the rest of us probably wouldn't get it completely if he told us the whole, complete version.
When Heero got added to our little partnership, the demons showed us all something that surprised the hell out of me but probably shouldn't have. With Heero's time vision abilities, my vision of the creatures, and Trowa's communication skills (why does that sound so funny?), the little beasties would follow us through time and explain some random things about what they were doing or what was going on. Turns out that the little spirit critters were essentially omniscient, always existing in the now. It was quite a concept to try and wrap my mind around, let me tell you. They knew the future, but they didn't. It was as though everything was happening at once with them, like they were viewing their life spans from above, able to pick out where and when they wanted to put their attention to remembering. Very odd, very confusing. When worries don't keep me awake at night, this concept tops the list of Things That Give Insomnia Because I Can't Stop Trying to Figure Them Out. This is your brain on boggle. Any questions?
Trowa and Wufei worked well together, too, for much the same reason they worked well with me separately. Shared perception and all that, except that instead of just getting glimpses of the demons, through Wufei Trowa could pick up on the spirits that sometimes wanted to make conversation. Plus, in the way that Wufei could communicate with the dead Trowa could communicate with the friendlier demons, and sometimes their abilities crossed over enough to let Trowa speak to other friendly spirits besides Meiran. Together, they could talk to just about anything outside of the living and human realm, and their friendship deepened because of it.
But of course, no matter how mind-blowingly interesting forays through time with lesser demons and spirits was, Trowa worked best with Quatre. With the slight blond's empathic abilities, and Trowa's ability to overhear thoughts, together they could dive right into people's minds, see their memories, and read their thoughts. Along with this incredible gift came the unpleasant realization that most people don't always have nice thoughts, and the worst ones usually floated to the surface of the mind like a dead fish, the first thing that the pair would encounter. But still, working together their abilities melded perfectly into a psychic probe, they were able to pick apart and find specific memories at will.
And yes, in case you were wondering, they had human test subjects. Usually it was a volunteer from the staff, but a few times they brought in one of the more violent cases from the outside, regular asylum. These were always the cases that were about to be committed forever to the big, main, straightjackets and padded walls asylum. Sometimes the pair would be able to actually seek out what was causing the illness in the patient's minds, and with careful internal communication with the person, were able to fix him or her up a little. This was a great experience for the two, the only real thing out of all of our abilities that had actually helped someone out.
Quatre in his individual control exercises proved to be able to redirect emotional energy, picking it up and changing it at will. And by emotional energy, I'm including pain. It was his special thing that we could only glimpse in action and feel a bit through our connection, but the rest of us were unable to use. One drawback of this was that the changes he made weren't permanent. See, if he redirected someone's pain, the source of the pain did not go away. He couldn't heal anything at all, but he could fool a person's brain into not experiencing the agony from an injury. Once his influence was gone from the person's mind, though, the damage would come back in full force. This also was the case when he messed around with people's emotions. He hated causing negative impressions, though, and usually tried to make whatever subject was put in front of him happy, even though he knew it wouldn't last.
With all four of us, due to his emotion ability thing and his openness within our group, Quatre worked extremely well. With me he was able to feel the thoughts of the little demon-things, and thus gave me a greater understanding of them. He could also, with my vision, pick up on ethereal emotional energy in much greater detail. We were ten times better at reading an aura together than I was by just picking up on the visual clues or him just feeling out the emotions. With a clear view of the aura and a feel of the heart, we were able to pinpoint exactly what the most guarded person was feeling and emanating. The spare ethereal energy that I just thought floated around randomly when it wasn't actively animated as pain or another strong emotion was actually teeming with subtle meaning, a meaning that I can't describe because there is no possible way you can understand it without experiencing it. Let's just say that it was an incredible experience.
Anyway, moving along, Quatre's abilities also aligned well with Wufei's, and together they could get glimpses of spirit memories. This particularly helped Wufei when he was trying to piece together exactly why a particular ghost wouldn't leave him alone and he wanted to help it. This was very useful in the never-ending quest for Wufei to not be perpetually haunted by ghosts he wasn't married to.
As for when Quatre and my Heero were paired up…damn. That was really cool. Usually I was there to act as Mr. Time-Anchor, but I only could catch flashes of their little time trips. Quatre could pick out exactly when a particular memory came from and help guide Heero's insanely confusing jaunt. Once there, Quatre could pick up on the emotions of the other people in the time frame, helping us discern motivation or what-have-ye about the other players from the past. Again, Heero was frustrated by his lack of clear view of the future, especially since the glimpses he received were so damn morbid and confusing before.
Wow, and now we're finally ready to go over my lovely little talents. Ugh, next to the other guys I felt like a grape next to a pineapple, a midget beside a giant, a toe next to a finger, a dust sprite next to a…never mind, you get the idea. Besides my uncanny ability to be able to strengthen or help the other guys' abilities, I only got minor comparative gain. Not that I'm complaining, but I was disappointed. More often than not I was an observer, letting my sight be used to further someone else's abilities. And here I was expecting to be all powerful and mighty. Bah.
Well, on using my own abilities, I was still better going solo most of the time. I found that I could make certain things visible to others, and with my manipulation of auras and ethereal energy I could manipulate people into doing what I wanted them to, at least, on a limited basis. It turned out that a person's soul really is connected to their aura, and by manipulating that I could manipulate their motivations and, like I had done with Mueller, devastate them if I so desired. Not the useful, fun, happy ability I had wanted, nope. I was a walking weapon, able to tear a person apart fiber by fiber. How cheerful.
Despite this depressing discovery, I had minor little abilities that were always springing up and fading away, never really completely under my control. I'd hear an occasional voice or see a flash of a spirit, have something I wanted float absently up to me, and sometimes get the impression that I knew what people were thinking, but nothing actually concrete or lasting. Frustrating! Argh. Oh well, at least I could console myself with the fact that as I went along my abilities seemed to develop a bit more with each exercise. I don't think that this happened with the other guys, I just think they got better control. But still…I was disappointed.
But anyway, before I start complaining about how I felt back then, there you have the gist of our control exercises and how they affected us. There it is, all wrapped up with a shiny red bow on top. Enjoy.
~ ~ ~ ~
Because I was still considered recovering from the episode with Mueller, our little exercises continued for weeks that stretched into months. Like I said, in that time I would often go see Trieze in that little office for what I called trauma sessions. In reality, we spoke very little about anything pertaining to the attack and my subsequent reaction, but instead most of the time just mulled over general stuff about the world and peppered the conversation with lots of small talk. This was when I started to get an even stronger feeling about the apparent double meanings to Trieze's words. One particular conversation sticks out in my mind, because it eventually brought about an important discovery that would have huge implications later.
We were talking about the weird structure of the asylum, I remember that, but I'm not too sure what brought the conversation about. It was one afternoon, in that time between classes and dinner, and while I was in my little session, Wufei and Quatre were in a control exercise. I commented on how weird it was that I had spent four years of my life here and I had never really realized that there could be a basement level.
"Yes, it is an interesting design structure," Trieze commented, strolling around the room. He wrapped his knuckles on the outer wall of the office in relation to the corridor. A hollow echo answered his soft knock on the wall. "The secret passages were really an ingenious idea, just in case patients blocked a hallway or something disruptive happened. For instance, the small stairway that leads from my classroom to your dwelling area. It really is fortunate for the project, too, that there's all the extra space in these hollows for machinery and such."
Keeping his voice nonchalant and his posture easy, the tall man stopped walking and looked from me to the wall he had just knocked and back again, sending me a significant look without being completely obvious. Was he trying to tell me that there was machinery in the walls? That would make sense, considering how the walls always seemed to thrum to life during our control exercises, and how they could manipulate energy and power so easily, including the energy that pulsed above us in its directed flow to who knows where. Plus, that huge door that slid right into the wall at the border between our living quarters and the labs. Why hadn't I made that connection before? It was so obvious.
"Sure, I guess so," I responded, nodding my head and looking thoughtful. I could be subtle, too, if I wanted to be. "It is interesting how they redirect the flow of psychic and supernatural energy, too. Wonder where they funnel it to?" I left my question open-ended, really not expecting a response. I was actually trying to be vague, as though this was just another normal conversation, even though it was clear to both of us that it was not.
"Ah, yes, well, one would have to get into the passages back here to do that, and there are very few entrances to them," He responded, casually glancing toward what I thought was a closet door on the wall that separated the living quarters' wing from the ramp incline to the lab area. Just in case I didn't catch that look, he strolled over to it and knocked lightly on the door before coming back to sit in the only other piece of furniture in the room besides the padded chair I was sitting in, a metal folding chair. No wonder he kept pacing, that little chair looked uncomfortable. He was nice enough to let me have the padded one, even though I had offered it to him several times. I guess it gave him the excuse to wander around the room.
Our conversation drifted for a few more minutes, not really saying anything important or implying anything at all with its words. Finally, though, Trieze glanced down at his watch. "Well, Duo, it's almost time for dinner. Remember, you always have access to this room if you need it, okay? Oh, and by the way, I won't be in here tomorrow afternoon because of an administrative meeting."
So I left, weighing everything that the man had casually implied throughout our sessions against his involvement with our experiments to my knowledge of his character. I knew in my heart that he wasn't trying to sell me out, but I just wasn't sure what his motivation was in all of this. He was extremely friendly with Zechs, the pair seemed to get along almost too well, and I knew how devoted Zechs seemed to be to the project. Was Trieze bitter about his daughter being a test subject, or were her experiments different? Did he purposely point me in the direction of his office, with no cameras watching, as a way into the passages inside the labs? What machinery or other things were there that he might have wanted me to see?
None of the answers to these questions were obvious to me, but I knew that I was going to try and get into the passageways, and soon. My curiosity was piqued, and besides, what could they really do to worsen my situation? They wouldn't want to bruise their precious guinea pig. This kept in mind, I decided to tell the others about my idea and then try to get them to go through with my deviously stupid plan.
Arriving back at the room, I found that Wufei and Quatre had already beat me back and everyone was waiting on me so we could go get some dinner. For the sake of the cameras monitoring us in the room, I acted like my normal goofy I-don't-have-any-shady-plans self. We left the living areas via short stairway up to Trieze's, er yeah, Mr. Khushrenada's, classroom. On our way through the hallways towards the bog beast infested cafeteria, I casually mentioned going for a little walk outside after we ate, claiming that I needed to get a little space and some nice recycled colony air. Ah, a touch of sarcasm perfectly masked the intent of my statement. I'm such a sneaky bastard.
Of course, my friends knew that something was up, I guess because they're used to my sneaky-bastard ways. So as soon as we were outside, we made a beeline for our favorite refuse, the big hollow tree. We hadn't been to it since before my episode with Mueller, and the familiar artificial earthy smells and comforting darkness quelled the excitement and turmoil I was feeling about my plans.
Once we were all settled, I started to tell the guys about what had transpired that afternoon in my session. "--And so I thought that either tonight or tomorrow, when we'd be out of the room anyway and it wouldn't seem suspicious, a couple of us could see if that closet door really does go into the passages. I don't think Trieze would have made such a deal about it if it wasn't important," I finished up, looking around for some sort of feedback.
Wufei leaned forward, his brow creased in thought, Meiran floating behind him with her arms draped over his shoulders. "It's a good idea, but who ever goes will have to be careful. Of course, we can't all go, it would look strange to the cameras in the hallway," he muttered absently. "The door probably leads directly to the area that the door between the labs and living area slides. Considering the placement, it makes sense."
I nodded eagerly. "Yeah, so, you think we should do it?"
"Definitely," Trowa replied, nodding once. "Who goes?"
"Well, I think only two of us should go, and perhaps we could make some sort of show for the cameras about why we're going in there?" Quatre added doubtfully to the conversation.
"That's a good idea," Wufei said, rubbing his chin.
"Well, whoever goes, I want to be one of them," I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.
Heero just shrugged at me as if to say, 'Of course.' Everyone else just nodded absently, still in thought.
"Quatre should go," Trowa said finally.
"Why me?" Quatre squeaked out, looking a bit nervous. I don't blame him, really.
"You know about electronics. You told me," Trowa responded succinctly.
"You do?" All our eyes swiveled to focus on Quatre with my immediate question. "Cool."
"Uh, just a little," the blond responded sheepishly. "I used to take apart everything electronic and mechanical I could find when I was little. Good thing my family was wealthy, because before I learned how everything fit back together I had usually dismantled it beyond repair."
"Okay, so it's you and me, then," I said after that had sunk in. I had gotten this hilarious mental picture of a teeny little Quatre waving bits of a vid-set around in his tiny little hands. That would have been cute.
So, that part decided, we worked a bit more on just how we were going to play out our part for the hallway cameras before going in, how we were going to hide the flashlight that we hadn't used since we had swiped the files from the file room, and what we would do if we were caught. We decided that since none of us was scheduled for a control session tomorrow afternoon, and Trieze said he wouldn't be around, we'd do it then. It was a plan, man.
~ ~ ~ ~
That night and the next day of classes dragged slowly. I was nervous as hell about our little trip we had planned, and all day I was jittery, dropping my pencil every five minutes and jumping at every unexpected noise. It didn't help that it was this day the Alex finally showed back up at work.
Conspicuously thinner and looking rather feeble, the once menacing Thug looked like a half-starved and abused puppy. I almost fell over in shock at his appearance, and when his eyes met mine there was no flash of recognition. Either his mind had been wiped clean of the memory to go with the cover-up, or the trauma had blanked it out. Whichever it was didn't really matter, because now he was just a husk of a man. It was as though he had died on that floor when his brother had finally expired. I felt fresh guilt stab at my heart. Just great. Now I was nervous and guilty. A dynamite combination, if I do say so, even if Alex's arrival did help out our little act that afternoon.
Finally, though, the hours of classes passed. Quatre and I readied ourselves outside the entrance in Mr. Khushrenada's classroom down to the living area. The other guys were busying themselves elsewhere, gathering in a manner that was tailored to look all scheming and secretive, hopefully distracting anyone who might be monitoring us into thinking that it was where the action was at. A distraction, I guess you could call it. Meanwhile, I screwed up my face, rubbed my eyes hard, and did my best to look close to tears.
Immediately Quatre responded, chattering on about how "it was okay" and "everything would be fine." He ushered me into the so-called closet and we passed through quickly, not breaking from our character. I stammered out things about Alex being back and being all upset and sobbing about being a murderer. Some of my tears at this point weren't fake, but at least this was a healthy expression of guilt for a good cause, and not just being a weenie. As planned, Quatre glared up at the camera deliberately, then muttered something about "damn cameras" and "let's get you in to Mr. Khushrenada's room to wait for him." The comments about the damn cameras surprised me, though, because I can count the number of times I've heard Quatre cuss on one hand.
As mentioned, we knew the Trieze wouldn't be there this afternoon. How convenient, huh? So Quatre knocked, then opened the door and pulled me gently inside. As soon as the door closed behind us, I straightened up and wiped away some of the wetness from my face. Nodding that I was ready, we wasted no time in heading straight for the innocent looking door and opening it.
Just as Wufei had suspected, it was indeed an access to the control of the steel door that slid into the wall. There was a metal runner and a computer monitor beside the wall the bordered the outside corridor. As we stepped inside the little passage, I pulled the flashlight from where I had tucked in my waistband. It had been easy to keep it hidden with my hunched-over-crying posture. Thumbing it on, I shone the light around, noting how no light filtered in from the outside. That meant that our light shouldn't filter out. Good. And no cameras, either, just as we had thought. Why would Trieze point us in this direction if we where just going to get caught? That wouldn't have made any sense, but still, it was a relief to note the absence of the all-seeing shuttered eye. I guess they only spent the money to monitory the outside entrances to the wing through the passages.
So we silently moved along, going in the direction away from the lab area. We had decided last night that finding out where that energy that thrummed along the ceiling went. I had a hunch that it was an important piece of the puzzle, and besides, did we really want to venture into the lab areas? Bah. Stupid question.
So we passed through like those ghosts that Wufei sees, going right along the length of the living area and beyond, where the passage started to incline sharply downhill for a while. At one point I remember wrapping on the wall, just to see if these tunnels were steel lined like the one that lead up to that disguised door. They were.
Without warning we came out into a cavernous room filled with quietly humming machinery. Thank God there was no one in there, because we would have been caught for sure. We just stood there, gaping at the clicking terminals and machines before us, a faint whiff of noxious odor filling our nostrils.
All the energy that flowed along the ceiling of the labs and the living area came out here, copious waves of pain and psychic residue being sucked into this tall, softly glowing metal box. The box was connected with slender light blue tubing to a huge round tank that hummed and vibrated slightly, dominating the center of the room. At the top of the tank there was a square shaped funnel that pointed straight up, pouring a wispy gray vapor to disappear along the ceiling. In the small area visible between the ceiling and the upward spout, I could make out the subtle using of the psychic mire that I had only seen in the bog that made the cafeteria smell like ass.
We were underneath the cafeteria, and the cause of the smell was this machine that converted spare psychic energy, emotion, and pain into a thick sludge. Gross. Who the hell invented that machine? More importantly, what would happen if it were turned off? Would the devices that also drained the energy if we tried to do something, psychically speaking, big get turned off, too? Was it the same machine, even? Did this mean that we'd have an edge if we smashed it, or would that just backfire and would the noxious energy roll over us and kill us?
I found myself standing right beside the giant tank, my hand resting on its cool metal exterior seemingly of its own accord. I didn't remember walking up to the tank or reaching out to touch it. Then hit me that Quatre now had the flashlight and was wandering around on the other side of the tank. Silly me, lost in thought again. Guess it was unfamiliar territory, huh?
"Hey, Quatre?" I whispered, rounding the big machine, careful not to look up at the spout of muck and mire above me.
"Yeah?" Came the reply.
"Whatcha doing? We need to get out of here pretty soon," I whispered back. It felt like a good idea to keep our voices down, and I was going to stick with that instinct.
"Come here and look at this," Quatre replied quietly, waving the flashlight at me. As I walked over to him he pointed the beam up at some thin blue tubes running out of the tank. I hadn't noticed those before.
"These run out in every direction, as though they go to places all the way through the entire building," the blond continued. "This one machine might have a bit of an influence on the entire building, heck, maybe even the entire grounds."
"You think?" I asked, looking dubiously up at the multiple little pipes.
"I don't know, maybe," he whispered back. His light aquamarine eyes shone in the darkness. "I'm not sure, though. It would be dangerous to tamper with this thing, we might blow ourselves up. I don't think it would be worth the risk to try and smash it."
Ah, it was as though he had read my mind, which was actually a possibility. "Well, damn. Oh well, this is useful to know, at least. Maybe we should check the rest of the passage, the ones leading to the labs, later. Might find stuff even more useful," I whispered back, shrugging.
I saw the faint backwash of the flashlight beam shine in Quatre's fair colored hair as he nodded. "Yeah, but maybe we'll still be able to use this information later. You never know," he whispered, handing me back the flashlight.
As we silently made our way back from whence we came, back out of the passage, Quatre's phrase kept running through my mind. You never know.
~ ~ ~ ~