Part Ten

“Excuse me?” Treize looked at his friend incredulously. He had previously been lounging in his chair, now he was leaning forward. “You did what?”

“Well, there weren’t many options,” Zechs said calmly. “You dumped this in my lap and said here, fix it. So I did. Torture wouldn’t have worked. They’re resistant to most mind-altering drugs. They’d be able to resist hypnosis. What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know, but certainly not . . .” Treize’s voice trailed off. “It feels like we’ve killed them.”

Zechs shrugged. “It’s all in technicalities. Your point of view.”

“My point of view is that you shouldn’t have done this without checking it with me first!” Treize attempted to keep his temper. “I think I’ll go back to supervising this.”

Zechs raised an eyebrow. “Am I fired?”

“Of course you’re not fired. But I’m sure you have other things to do.”

Zechs considered this for a long minute, then nodded, turned, and walked out of the office.

Treize’s head thudded softly against his desk. “Lady Une?”

Lady Une walked in and looked puzzled at Treize’s head on his desk. “Ano . . . Treize-sama?”

Treize lifted his head. “Sorry. Bad day. I need you to take care of some things for me.”

“Of course.”

“We have two new students entering the Academy. The problem is, they think they’re old students.”

“Sir?”

“Long story. They need rooms. Records. Names. I’ll figure out names and you can enter them later. Photographs. Histories. Their rooms need to look lived in. Posters. Mementos. Wardrobes. Old homework. Class schedules. We need to construct lives for these two.”

“Um . . . may I ask . . . who these two students are?”

“Your intuition is correct,” Treize said. “Zechs got a little carried away.”

“Sir?” Poor Une looked very confused.

“In order to convince them to work for us, he convinced them that they always have. Basically speaking, he wiped their memories. When they wake up, we’re going to tell them that they’re students here. They’re the best pilots we have, there was a problem in the last battle and they were injured that way. Zechs already had them moved to a hospital. Guardianship papers. I don’t want them to have families. Make them war orphans and put me down as their legal guardian like we do for the orphaned students. Make them roommates.”

Une nodded. “What about the other students?”

Treize rubbed his temples, thinking hard. “Their transfer was being put through when the battle happened, so we just moved them here. They haven’t had any classes yet, so none of the students know them.”

Une nodded again, apparently deep in thought.

“Am I missing anything?” Treize looked at her.

Une took off her glasses and polished them carefully. Her hair was down. “Are you going to have any personal contact?”

“Yes. I’m going to go check on them right now.”

“You have a meeting in - ”

“Cancel it. This is more important. I have two Gundam pilots. And while I don’t approve of what Zechs did, I’m certainly not going to waste this chance.”

Une nodded. “I’ll get everything set up for them. How much time do I have?”

“They’ll be in the hospital for at least a week,” Treize said. “So you’ll have that long.”

“All right. I’ll see to it right away.” Une paused. “How are we going to explain to them that they both have total amnesia?”

Treize blinked, then grimaced. “I’ll come up with something, hopefully before they ask.” He paused as he thought of something else. “And get me a baby name book.”

“Sir?”

“I need it in fifteen minutes.”

****

Treize was still flipping through the name book as he walked to the hospital room. He had one that seemed appropriate for Wufei, but was still working on Quatre. He paused outside their door to drink some coffee and continue to flip when a description caught his eye. “Rigel: (Arabic) You seek change, travel, new opportunities, and new challenges. Your active, restless nature demands action and you dislike system and monotony. As you are versatile and capable, you could do any job well, although you would not like to do menial tasks. Having considerable vision, you could be adept at formulating new, more effective ways of doing things. You take your responsibilities seriously and could experience much worry.”

That would have to do.

He knocked gently on the door, then pushed it open and went in. Both boys were awake, looking slightly confused. “Hello,” Treize said, forcing himself to look cheerful.

The pilots glanced at each other. “Hi,” Quatre finally said.

“Let me guess; you think you don’t remember me,” Treize said.

“That would’ve been my assumption,” Wufei replied.

“Well, you’ve never met me, so don’t worry about it.” Treize extended his hand. “Treize Khushrenada.”

Wufei shook his hand, then Quatre did. “Name’s kind of vaguely familiar,” Quatre said, but he didn’t sound very certain. Both of them were fairly pale. Treize noted that Quatre was still apparently the spokesperson. “I don’t suppose you know our names?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Because I made them up on the drive over here. “You,” he said to Wufei, “are Li Xiaolung.” Xiaolung was Chinese for ‘little dragon.’ Treize was fairly proud of himself for this play on words. “And you are Rigel Taylor.”

“Doesn’t sound right somehow,” Quatre said with a sigh. “Oh well.”

“If you can think of anything you’d prefer, let me know,” Treize said dryly. “Has anyone explained to you what happened?”

“The blonde guy that was in here earlier said something about being blown up,” Quatre said uncertainly. “All I know is that my head hurts and I’m very confused.”

“Well, you’re pilots. For OZ.” He paused, wondering if they still knew what OZ was. He decided to explain, just in case. “That’s the government organization that I run.” We’ll talk about conquering the world later.

“I remember the war,” Quatre said vaguely. “I remember OZ . . . oh, wait, you’re that Treize Khushrenada!” He tried to sit up, then slumped backwards. “Ow . . .”

“Don’t do that,” Treize said belatedly.

“I figured that out on my own, thanks,” Quatre said. “Anyway . . . we work for you?”

Treize nodded with a convincing smile. “You’re my two best pilots. There was a problem at your last battle and you ended up in here.”

“Okay . . .” Wufei said slowly.

“You were actually in the middle of transferring schools,” Treize said. “You arrived here the day before the battle, but I didn’t get a chance to meet you. You were scheduled to start classes three days ago, but that obviously didn’t happen. Your rooms are set up, however.” He paused. “You’re roommates, in case you don’t remember.”

“I didn’t,” Quatre said.

“Do you two have any questions?” Treize asked.

“What about our families?” Wufei asked. “Were they informed?”

Treize hesitated. “You’re war orphans. Neither of you has any family. I’m listed as your legal guardian.”

“Oh.” That was all Quatre could think of to say.

“I’m sorry,” Treize said.

“I suppose we were used to it before we forgot about it,” Wufei said.

“Is there anything else you want to ask? Or want?”

Quatre looked pensive. “Can we have a stereo? Maybe some classical music?”

Good. Personal information. “Of course.” He made a mental note to see that Quatre’s section of the room had plenty of classical music. He looked at Wufei. “Anything for you?”

Wufei shrugged. “Classical is fine. I’m not much a music person. I don’t think. If I’m remembering correctly, that is.”

Treize smiled reassuringly. “Your personalities and preferences did stay intact, of course.”

“Could I have some books, maybe?” Wufei paused. “Chinese, naturally. Some philosophy would be good.”

Books for his room. “Sure. I’ll try to be back with those later, but I might have to send someone in my stead. I am a busy man, after all.”

“Of course,” Quatre said. “We understand. Even if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Treize thanked some God, somewhere, that it had gone well, and left the room.

****

The paperwork is starting to pile higher than my head. Every time Une comes in, she gives me a dubious look and then wanders out again. I can tell she’s dying to tell me to get to work, but doesn’t quite dare. Then again, she has every right to question me; I’ve given her some very odd errands to run today.

This isn’t my fault. It’s been a very odd day.

Did I mention that I’m very angry at Zechs? I’m not sure precisely what he did wrong, but I do know that what he did is wrong. He’s right in that I gave him no specific instructions, and he did accomplish the end goal I had assigned him.

But somehow, taking away fifteen years of their life isn’t what I had in mind. I’m sure that they really worked for those fifteen years, too.

I am not one to waste such an opportunity, however, and Une and I have been busy all day constructing lives for them. Fortunately, they didn’t question when I told them they were OZ soldiers. I’m not surprised; they both seem very confused. I don’t blame them.

At this point, and it’s now approaching dinner, they have names and files. They’re ‘transferring in’ from another OZ school. I’ll take care of photos tomorrow, or when they look better, whichever comes last.

And I just remembered that I never sent over those things they asked for. My head hits the desk yet again and I call for Une. She agrees to run the errand for me and I go back to ignoring my paperwork, which I really need to stop doing at this point. I’m not quite sure why I’m dwelling over this so much. Or why I’m bothering to be so nice to them. They are the enemy, after all. But somehow they’re so . . . helpless. And only fifteen. I mean, don’t get me wrong, in hand to hand combat I’m sure they could take out most of my best people, but it’s not the same somehow.

Regardless, I’m going to get back to my work now . . . I’ve been rambling long enough.

****

Une left the music store, holding a bag in her left hand and with a still-bewildered expression on her face. The bookstore had been her first stop, and trying to find Chinese philosophy had been nearly impossible. She had finally unearthed a few books in the back room. She checked her watch and saw that it was almost eight o’clock at night. With a sigh, she headed over to the hospital.

“Hello,” she said, sticking her head into the room. “My name’s Lady Une. Treize-sama sent me over with some things for you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rigel said politely.

“Likewise,” Une said with a nod, putting her packages down. “You too,” she said with a smile at Xiaolung.

He nodded, giving her a weird look.

“Well, I got your books and your music,” Une said, taking the portable stereo out of the bag. “Hope this is okay. I was going to try to bring you dinner but Chinese philosophy is hard to find and I ended up sitting in the bookstore for about an hour.”

“That’s okay,” Rigel said, eagerly pawing through the music. “We’re not really hungry, and anyway they already brought us dinner.”

“How are you guys feeling?” Une asked.

“Terrible,” Xiaolung answered.

“Don’t mind him, he has a headache,” Rigel said. “Actually I do too, but I’m taking it far better.”

“Yours went away,” Xiaolung grumbled.

“Yes, but that’s because I didn’t have to be macho and refuse painkillers,” Rigel said pleasantly.

“I will not put any foreign chemicals in my body if it’s not necessary,” Xiaolung retorted.

“If you don’t stop complaining, it’s going to become necessary to keep me from killing you,” Rigel replied.

“How long are we going to be here?” Xiaolung turned to Une.

“I think Treize-sama said about a week,” Une replied.

“The boredom’s going to kill us,” Xiaolung muttered.

Une looked at the stack of books and decided to not reply. Personally, she couldn’t imagine getting through those in anything less than a month. Then again, she couldn’t imagine them staving off boredom, either.

“Is there anything else that you want?” she finally asked.

“If there is, we don’t know about it yet,” Xiaolung answered.

****

My latest discovery is hovering somewhere beyond ‘disturbing’ and just plain bizarre. I was looking into the transfer students that were coming in during the semester change to see if anything interesting turned up. (I know, it seems pathetic. I was beyond desperate at that point. I’d been looking for five days and had turned up absolutely nothing.) What I found were two files, belonging to Rigel Taylor and Xiaolung Li. They first caught my eye simply because they were so much smaller than the others. Then I realized that one of the names was Arabic, and the other Chinese . . .

So I jumped to a few conclusions, which, fortunately for me, seem to have been accurate. The two new students are indeed Quatre and Wufei.

Naturally, this brings up far more new questions than it does answer old ones.

For one thing, the files are still being constructed. There is new information added to them every day. It seems that somebody is building a past for the two of them. Why this is necessary, and why OZ is letting two of their most dangerous enemies loose into their school system, is completely beyond me.

Today they had class schedules. Three of their classes are together, then they each have two separate ones. Naturally, I took the liberty of adding one of the classes they both have onto my own schedule. Though it says that, though classes start tomorrow, they will not be attending until the second week. This could be because of their injuries, or it could be because of something else.

Unfortunately, their file says nothing about where they are now, why they’re transferring, or anything that might even remotely be construed as useful.

A very interesting fact is that one of the classes they have together is mobile suit training. For one thing, I can’t imagine that they need it. For another, at fifteen, Quatre and Wufei aren’t even old enough to be recruits. By OZ standards, they shouldn’t be in mobile suit training yet. Obviously, OZ is bending its own rules because Treize is well aware that they’re capable pilots.

Which brings me to my conclusion: Treize has two Gundams, and now he has two Gundam pilots who, for all appearances, have changed sides.

The Gundams have to go.

I don’t know what’s going on with Quatre and Wufei, but I can’t risk waiting to see whether or not they’ve really switched sides. OZ cannot be allowed to have the Gundams for even one more day.

Fortunately, while I’ve been hacking twenty-four hours a day, I did manage to find a reliable location for Shenlong. I also found the guard schedule. I should be able to get to it, as I am an OZ recruit. Hopefully I’ll be able to make it to the cockpit without being seen, pilot the Gundam out, drop it off someplace safe, and be back in time for my classes tomorrow.

****

“He’s late.”

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out, Heero,” Duo practically snarled in the other pilot’s direction. “For someone so smart, you sure have a talent for pointing out the obvious.”

Talk about the pot and the kettle, Heero thought, trying not to be irritable. Duo was obviously still in a funk about what had happened. It had been almost a week, and Heero wasn’t sure he’d seen Duo eat a full meal yet. And he talked in his sleep. “Hn.”

“Oh, that’s really useful!” Duo threw his hands in the hand.

“Stop pacing. You’re making me seasick.”

Duo glared at him for a second, then all his bones apparently lost consistency and he flopped onto the ground. Fortunately for both of them, they heard the rumble of a Gundam’s engine before either of them had to make further conversation. Duo leapt to his feet and started waving vigorously.

“Baka,” Heero muttered. “He can see us.”

“Shut up,” Duo replied.

Heero blinked, then shook his head. Trowa landed Shenlong next to them and hopped out. Duo practically tackled him. “Have you heard anything about Q and Wu? Why’d you suddenly decide to filch one of the Gundams now? What’s going on?!”

Trowa checked his watch. “Let’s get the Gundam to safety and then I’ll explain.” He had piloted it onto the carrier truck. Duo looked like he wanted to protest, but bit his tongue and helped the other two cover it with tarps. Then he grabbed the keys from Heero, earning a dirty look, and hopped into the cab of the truck. The other two got in on the other side.

“So what happened?” Heero asked. “Did you locate Quatre and Wufei?”

“Yes.” Trowa paused.

“Well, don’t leave us hanging,” Duo complained.

Trowa attempted to phrase it so Duo wouldn’t suffer from a brain aneurysm. “Their loyalty appears to be in question.”

Duo had an aneurysm anyway. “WHAT?!”

“Excuse me?” Heero didn’t sound any more pleased than Duo.

Trowa summed up what he knew. “I know there’s something that I’m missing, but until we find it, the Gundams can’t be left with OZ.”

Heero nodded, satisfied with the explanation.

Duo wasn’t. “What the hell kind of name is Rigel, anyway?”

“Arabic,” Trowa replied.

“That wasn’t what I meant and you know it,” Duo snapped.

Trowa raised an eyebrow. “You’re in a wonderful mood.”

“Oh, don’t you start too.”

Trowa just shook his head and checked his watch again. “I have about eight hours before I need to get back to OZ headquarters.”

Heero glanced at his own watch. “Cutting it close, aren’t you?”

Trowa shrugged.

“I emailed Howard and he said he could have a car for you,” Duo said. “You should be able to make it.” He paused. “So what are we going to do about Quatre and Wu?"

Heero frowned. “Do they need to be eliminated?”

“What?” Duo asked. “Shut up!”

“It’s a valid question,” Heero replied coldly.

Trowa resisted the urge to knock their heads together. “No. Not until I’ve found out what led to this . . . change of heart.”

Heero nodded briefly.

“I have one class with them,” Trowa added. “But they aren’t starting until the second week, which is odd in itself . . . but I should be able to figure out what happened then.”

“A whole week,” Duo moaned.

“You’ll survive,” Trowa said calmly. The question is, will Heero?

“Hn,” Duo replied, earning two strange looks.

They arrived at Howard’s about an hour later. Duo hopped in Shenlong to pilot it into Howard’s hangar.

Trowa turned to Heero. “What’s with him?”

“I have no idea. He’s been like this for a week. Ever since he got back from Professor G’s. I said the wrong thing and he’s barely spoken to me since.”

“What did you say?”

“I asked him what was wrong.”

Trowa blinked.

“I don’t get it either.”

“Let me get this straight: Duo Maxwell isn’t talking.”

“Not unless he’s opening his mouth to tell me to shut up.”

“How strange.”

“What’s strange?” Howard walked in on this last statement.

“How obnoxious Duo is being,” Heero said.

Howard shrugged. “Duo’s always obnoxious.”

“No, he’s not being obnoxious like normal,” Heero said. “Short. Snippy. Irritable. Angry.”

“Oh, that,” Howard said. “Yeah, once in a while he gets like that. He’ll get over it. Give him a week or so.”

“He’s already been like this for a week,” Heero said.

“Well, then you don’t have long to wait,” Howard replied.

****

“I brought your class schedules, so you can check them over,” Treize said. “You start on Monday.” He handed a sheet of paper to each boy. They both gave them approving glances. “How are you two feeling?”

“My headache finally went away,” Xiaolung said.

“Maybe because you gave it to me with all that whining,” Rigel said, rubbing his temples.

Treize noted that Rigel was a bit mouthier than Quatre.

“I don’t whine.”

“Fine, manly griping,” Rigel replied. He turned back to Treize and asked, “Did you get everything moved into our room?”

Treize nodded. “You’ll be moving in tomorrow.”

“Good,” Xiaolung said. “I’m getting tired of this hospital.”

“If there’s anything else you need, let us know. I’ll get Une to take you shopping.”

Rigel couldn’t help but snicker at the image of Lady Une in a clothing store. “Okay. Can we have our laptops yet? I want my journal.”

Treize had been in the process of getting laptops for an entire week. He’d had people forging old homework assignments and such to put on them. The journals, however, he’d been somewhat at a loss about. “Well, we have your computers, but you’ll have to find the journal yourself. If you passcoded it or hid it . . .”

Rigel made a face. “Probably did, too.”

“Sorry,” Treize said.

Rigel shrugged. “I just wish I had it so I could read back, is all. No point in wishing for what’s impossible.”

“Well,” Treize said, and tried to think of something else to say. “I’ll have Une bring the laptops over tonight.”

“Thanks,” Rigel replied.

****

“More errands?” Une replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t mock me. They’re growing on you, too, and you know it.”

Une sighed. “Though I’m loathe to admit it, yes.”

“They’re not difficult errands this time. Not like finding Chinese philosophy books.” Treize had taken an earful about that difficulty. “Just grab their laptops from their room and bring them over.”

“What if they ask about their journals?”

“I took care of that already. Though I feel bad.”

“Why?”

Treize shrugged. “Just in general.”

“Oh.”

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Treize called.

The door opened and Sergeant Expendable walked in, saluting. (Author’s Note: A real tragedy about his name, isn’t it? Sorry. The story will now return to normal. We couldn’t resist.) “Treize-sama, Une-sama . . . we have a . . . problem.”

“Oh?” Une managed to convey the threat of a painful death in that one syllable.

“More of a disaster,” the sergeant said.

“Spit it out, man,” Treize said.

“Gundam 05 has . . . gone AWOL.”

Treize blinked. And blinked. And blinked again.

“What?” Une asked.

“It’s gone, sir. It happened late last night. They didn’t want to send email about such a sensitive subject, so they sent me.”

“Good thinking,” Treize said distractedly, ignoring the fact that this had caused a twelve-hour delay in getting the information. “And do you have any idea where it went, or who took it?”

“No, sir. Someone snuck into the cockpit and piloted it out.”

Treize closed his eyes and vowed to keep his calm. “I see. Une, look into this, will you?”

“Of course, sir.” She looked at Expendable. “You may go.”

The man saluted again and backed hurriedly out of the room.

“Don’t worry about the laptops. I’ll send somebody else.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And send for Zechs.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll explain later.”

****

See, that one wasn't so bad, was it? ::hides:: Um, yes, Duo's bad mood will be explained. And, um, hug Trowa. He's gonna need it.

Part Eleven
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