Butterfly Effect: Chapter 45
Aug. 2nd, 2011 04:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bard_linnAuthors: Bard Linn and Kiraya
Genre: General/Drama
Pairings: ZackxSeph, OCxOC, Assorted Past
Rating (Overall): PG-13
Warnings: None this chapter.
Summary: "You must understand the background before I get into the technical details."
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all associated characters and symbols are the exclusive property of Square Enix and its associates. We’re just borrowing them for a while.
Chapter 45
“Stupid Easterners with their huge buildings — and their blasted airships. If Leviathan had wanted us to fly, He would have given us wings. What’s wrong with walking, anyway? Lazy…” Yuffie muttered to herself in her native tongue as she stalked through the ShinRa Building, trying to find her way out of the immense complex. It had been okay hanging around with Aeris and Tifa — she liked both girls, even if Aeris could give her the creeps — and busting into that lab had been downright fun.
Once they had gotten to Midgar, though…
The place was so dead in spots. Aeris had happily pointed out the gardens they had started, and Yuffie could see places where the Plate had been removed and other places where solar panels were installed. ShinRa certainly appeared to be fully following the “alternative energy sources” spiel they had started on a few years ago.
Still, these huge buildings were far too complicated for her sake. She really hadn’t liked being locked in her room. It brought back those dark stories of trophy women and sexual slavery beaten into her head since ShinRa had overtaken Wutai. She couldn’t see what they’d want with her when there were many more Wutaian women far prettier than she — some of whom might even offer their services voluntarily, too.
Yuffie scowled as she hit yet another elevator that wouldn’t let her in. She needed to find a staircase. Or the entrance to the ventilation shafts — wasn’t that how these things worked in Eastern movies?
“I’m sorry, miss, but you’re not permitted to leave. The President wishes to speak with you.”
Yuffie started, hand going for one of the kunai that were no longer on her — damn them for taking all of her weapons, too! — and tried to relax. A Wutaian speaker, but with such a strange accent… “How do you speak my language?” She studied the man before her. Dressed in a dark suit, he certainly wouldn’t have fit in in the homeland, but his features certainly suggested more than a passing resemblance to her people. “Are you—”
“On my mother’s side,” he replied, in the same tongue. “I’ve spent most of my life here in the East, however.”
“I see.” He certainly looked to be about the right age to have been the product of some of the earliest Wutaian-Eastern relationships. Yuffie winced; many of those relationships had ended with the women kicking their children out of Wutai when the war began. Their country had never been very accepting of mixed blood to begin with, but when the threat from the East had come…
“Well. Always nice to see a kinsman — but if you don’t mind—”
The man drew his gun, and Yuffie went still. He definitely knew what he was doing with it, which would probably make dodging bullets a lot more difficult. “Please don’t make me do this,” he said, as calm as if they were merely discussing the weather.
“Arrrrrrgh!” Yuffie threw her hands up in the air, muttering a few more curses before switching to Midgaran. “I can’t just stay here. I’ll go crazy!”
Unfazed, the man continued in the same tongue, “Perhaps you would be willing to utilize one of our practice grounds to help relieve your stress?”
“Perhaps,” my ass, Yuffie thought with irritation. She knew an order when she heard it. “Sure, whatever. Sounds good. Do you think I could get my weapons back?”
“I believe our technicians are working on your equipment. However, you are welcome to utilize the exercise machines, or practice your hand-to-hand combat.”
Damn.
Yuffie followed the man into an elevator, eyeing the keycard he used with barely-disguised interest. Something gave her the impression that this guy — and not knowing his name was really starting to bug her — had access to just about every level in this god-forsaken building. If she could swipe it—
He put the card carefully into the pocket furthest from her. She mentally heaped Wutaian curses on him, halfblood or no. What did a girl have to do to get out of here?
The gym, Yuffie noted grudgingly, seemed well-equipped. There were civilians utilizing a variety of machines she recognized from ads she saw occasionally, and several people who didn’t quite seem military, but not regular civilians either. At least some of them had equipment that looked vaguely medical or scientific, but their calluses and degree of fitness made it seem unlikely that they were doctors or scientists.
Yuffie brightened as she caught sight of a familiar face talking to a young man in one of those uniforms. “Tifa!”
The brunette raised her eyes and caught sight of Yuffie, and waved. “Yuffie! Come over — this is Arthur Dennett. He’s a specialist. Arthur, this is Yuffie Kisaragi, a noble of Wutai.”
“…your Ladyship?” Arthur bowed, looking a bit uncertain.
Yuffie waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. No formality, please — I hate that stuff.” She beamed at Tifa. “So what are you doing here? I thought you said you had a job at a bar.”
Tifa’s eyes flickered over Yuffie’s shoulder, then around their surroundings. The Wutaian noted with interest that her black shadow had vanished. “I imagine we’re both here for the same reason, more or less.” She nodded to Arthur. “He knows Cloud and is helping to work on getting him better.” Arthur nodded tensely. Yuffie noted the look of worry creeping up on both of their faces, and deduced it wasn’t going well.
Arthur shifted. “I’d better go — Morgan will be looking for me. Nice to meet you, Ms. Kisaragi.”
“Yuffie,” she corrected him.
“Yuffie,” he repeated with a smile. “I’ll let you know if anything changes, Tifa,” he told her, heading for the door.
“Thanks. —Arthur’s a specialist,” she explained to Yuffie. “They’re a division of ShinRa’s defense forces — midway between military and the medical world. They focus on SOLDIER health.”
Yuffie could connect the dots well enough. She knew things could go wrong with SOLDIERs — she remembered the tales from the war, of SOLDIERs going berserk, losing their humanity in the middle of battle — and promptly concluded these people must take care of SOLDIER in more ways than one. No wonder they were down here working out. “So, how long are you stuck here?”
Tifa sighed. “I’m not sure. Aeris is letting me use her room; she has quarters up here, but she prefers to live at home. I’m hoping they remember I’m likely to be out of work if they keep me up here forever.”
“Tough luck there. At least I don’t have that problem — running your own business is the way to go.”
Tifa gave Yuffie a look that spoke volumes about her thoughts on Yuffie’s ‘business.’ “I’d like to start a bar of my own, some day. I think I’d enjoy it.” She gave Yuffie an appraising look. “Hey — do you know any hand-to-hand? Because I could use a partner, and you look like you could use to work out some frustration.”
“Let’s!” It had been a while since Yuffie had focused on her unarmed combat, and she’d seen that Tifa was very, very good, but she thought she still might be able to give her a surprise or two. Wutai was the home for all fighters who danced on the air, and Tifa’s work was mostly grounded.
(SOLDIERs didn’t count — they cheated.)
“There’s an open mat over there,” Tifa pointed out. “Let’s go.” Yuffie quickly followed her. Even if she ended up getting her ass handed to her, it’d at least be a good distraction for a while.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tseng watched as Cid Highwind exited Rufus ShinRa’s office, beaming. The Turk nodded to himself. The man was pleased enough to be reinstated as the Highwind’s captain that he hadn’t yet considered what other purpose the appointment could have served — two, in fact. One was to remove Phillip Barrington from his position. ShinRa had no place for ranking officers who questioned orders, particularly such pedestrian (if unusual) ones. They would find a more suitable position for him; if they needed to send the Highwind on another urgent mission, they would need a pilot willing to fulfil unusual requests.
The second was as a bribe.
Tseng was fairly certain that Highwind he would be able to deduce both reasons once he stopped feeling so smug. He also doubted the pilot would say anything about it; one did not rise to become a captain in ShinRa on mere ability alone.
“That went well. It’s nice to deal with simple things, occasionally,” Rufus murmured, lacing his fingers together. Tseng looked him over critically. He seemed tired, but not exhausted.
The discovery of Hojo’s continued survival was distressing for everyone in the company. Rufus had not yet ordered the Turks to search for him… which was unusual, but Tseng suspected it was more an acknowledgement of Hojo’s canniness and abilities as a scientist. He had managed to evade three SOLDIERs and Vincent Valentine, not an easy feat. Rufus also undoubtedly did not wish to give the man any more subjects. While he had decided to allow Strife to live for now, it was undeniable that the SOLDIER’s presence in the building was a security risk. If he woke up and everything was fine, it would be a non-issue; if he mutated, or turned out to be a plant by Hojo…
Well, they would likely need all of the Turks and specialists they had to handle the case. It would be unlikely that many, if any, of the SOLDIERs on base would be able to emotionally distance themselves from him enough to do what would need to be done. Strife was well liked.
At least the general SOLDIER population didn’t know about his return or his captor’s identity. Tseng doubted they would be able to keep them on task if that information leaked. This served, of course, as another reason to help Sinclair and Sephiroth keep their charge a secret.
“Has anything of interest come up?” The President turned to his chief of intelligence. He could have written reports from his Turks, but Tseng knew that Rufus preferred face-to-face briefings, in most cases — they had the benefit of not leaving a paper trail.
“Tuesti has found an interesting anomaly in the company’s finances.” Rufus’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. “He’s investigating it on his own. We’re keeping an eye on it, but we won’t interfere. We’re not sure what it is, exactly. Could just be someone skimming again.” On the other hand, it was possible that the funds were being funneled to Hojo by the as-yet-unknown spy. While the man had once commanded a huge budget as head of the Science Department, it was unlikely he could be operating on the scale indicated by the lab in Wutai without additional funding. If this was where that missing money was going, it was possible that their turncoat would ignore Tuesti’s meddling. The man had a positively amazing talent to vanish into the woodwork. Perhaps he would have more luck than the Turks.
“Well. It’s likely that no matter what he uncovers, it will be useful.” Rufus looked thoughtful. “Why was he never scouted for the Turks?”
“He was,” Tseng replied. “He certainly has the mind and the observational skills, but fell short in the physical requirements.” Tuesti wore contacts for nearsightedness, and had a weak heart from an illness he’d contracted as a child.
“Otherwise?”
“Palmer is demanding more money for the space program, if we are to successfully land a rocket on the moon. Scarlet has put in another complaint about Wallace—”
Rufus raised an eyebrow. “Their schedules are such that they never see each other.”
Tseng cleared his throat. “I believe she’s accusing him of slander.”
The President looked amused. “I would think a woman of her intelligence would know that for something to be slander, it must be false.” He leaned back in his seat. “I presume that Wallace has done nothing to actually warrant disciplinary action? I’d prefer to keep him close.”
“No. In fact, Matheson and Tuesti have both made recommendations in his file, stating he has been helpful in making contacts with the old coal mines and protecting MMG workers below the Plate. His daughter has formed a close relationship with Ms. Gainsborough, and he seems satisfied with his work.”
“Good. And the MMG Project itself?”
Tseng straightened, rattling off statistics. “Three reactors in Midgar have been taken offline permanently. Approximately forty percent of the non-loadbearing sections of the Plate has been either removed or converted into solar paneling. We have seen a thirty-four percent drop in air pollution since the project’s inception, and the solar panels are exceeding projected output figures by eleven percent. Outside Midgar, several reactors on the Western Continent have been converted to utilize coal instead, at least for the short term, with the hub at Corel among them. Furthermore, the use of both wind and water turbines in Junon has halved Mako dependence there.”
The President nodded, pleased. “And our profits remain about the same. Excellent. How are the press taking it?”
Tseng smiled, slight but there. “Most are still singing your praises, even the independent outlets. There is the occasional group insisting that this is only for the company’s own benefit and that you don’t care about the environment, but overall you are heralded as the man who will transform ShinRa.”
“Good.” Rufus stood. “Now, I suspect I’d best make sure Scarlet’s feathers aren’t too ruffled. Send Elena up.” The President didn’t trust any of his executive board enough to be alone with them, and Tseng had quite a few reports waiting for him on his desk.
Personally, Tseng was glad he wouldn’t be the one sitting in on that discussion. Scarlet was an brilliant woman with strong opinions and an unmatched skill for artillery design, yes — but she was also rather heavily dependent on sex appeal to get what she wanted, even though the Turk Leader knew well that less than half of those she charmed ever got anything further than a wink and a smile. Their mutual dislike of each other was long-standing, but though Tseng had always made a point of keeping his emotions separate from work, Scarlet was quite upfront about her antipathy, and that would have made the meeting… unpleasant, at best.
At least his paperwork wouldn’t glare at him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Vincent was sure that somewhere, Reno was laughing his ass off.
The two Turks did indeed have chocobos. Very fine, healthy, powerful chocobos.
With some of the most ridiculous names on the planet.
Vincent knew he was in trouble when he saw the name outside the yellow’s stall. Who in the world would name their racing chocobo Pilsner?
Reno, apparently. As he walked through the stables, he saw similarly ridiculous names — Absinthe for a green, Curacao for a river bird, Porter for a black that seemed rather more brown. He had lucked out with one he’d finally chosen — black as a starless night, it had been simply named Schwarz, from the Mideelish for the same color. He wondered what the announcers thought when Reno placed.
Schwarz had let Vincent cover distance quickly and venture further into the mountains than he had previously. Taking the hint from their experiences in Gongaga and Wutai, he had extensively investigated caves. He was near Cosmo Canyon, now. If he continued northward, he would hit Nibelheim.
Nibelheim… Vincent had to close his eyes, thinking of his young protégé, still sleeping within ShinRa Tower. His mother was over that river and in the mountains, undoubtedly still quietly mourning and remembering her son every winter, when Cloud wasn’t even dead.
Yet. Exactly.
He clenched his right hand in frustration. Part of him had wanted to stay by Cloud’s side, but he knew full well there was nothing he could do to help him. And it was possible that his presence might harm him — Chaos had been murmuring comments to himself in the back of Vincent’s mind when the Turk was almost asleep. Something about empty shells and new hosts.
He would not willingly inflict Chaos on anyone, much less Cloud.
He urged Schwarz down the mountainside and approached the cave in the center of the small valley. Dismounting, he tethered the chocobo and took those few steps forward to enter the cave.
It was beautiful.
The walls of the cavern were smooth and glowing slightly, as if draped in a cloaklike materia. This area was clearly an ideal place for Hojo to set up a lab, if the Lifestream had worked its way into the cave structure—
He froze. There was someone here. In the middle of the cavern, within a huge crystalline pillar, a brilliant light shone.
-Vincent…-
He knew that voice. Moving closer, Vincent gazed into the light. That figure… “Lucrecia?” He could swear his heart almost stopped for a moment. She looked almost exactly as she had when he had last seen her all those years ago, before he had gone to confront Hojo… only perhaps a bit thinner and more worn. So this is where she had ended up — he had never been able to find out anything from ShinRa’s records.
-Vincent?-
“Lucrecia!” He moved closer still—
She flung out a ghostly hand. -No! Stay back!-
Stung, he did as she requested. The Lucrecia in the crystal had not moved, not like her mirror image floating before her, but somehow the words echoed — not inside the cavern, but in his mind. Was the Mako somehow communicating her words to him, or did her spirit have its own voice?
“You’re alive…” He could hardly believe it. “How did you… end up like this?”
-Back then… the further the pregnancy proceeded, the worse I felt. There were times I was not myself, times I hardly felt human…- The spirit shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. -It wasn’t safe, not for me, not for the Project, not for any one of you. So I decided that once Sephiroth was born, I would retire from the Project to focus on researching a possibility none of us had considered: the possibility that, rather than being merely a stigmergic strain of virus — as if that weren’t far-fetched enough for a pseudoliving organism, true though it may have been — Jenova was intelligent, possessing a collective consciousness that drove its constituent parts to attempt to gain control of the higher functions of their hosts, for whatever reason.-
She shook her head at that, and Vincent knew why — in the past, Lucrecia would never have seriously considered such an irrational theory. People change, I suppose…
-And then,- she continued, -Sephiroth was born, and I… lost it. For the first time, I truly regretted the direction in which we’d chosen to take the Project — how could I have done such a thing to a child? To my child? He’d suffer the same disconnectedness and flawed thinking I had during my pregnancy… but for him, it would be for his entire life, and he would never know any different way of being.
-I hated myself. I wanted to disappear. I couldn’t be with anyone — it was too dangerous. I wanted to die… but the Jenova inside me wouldn’t let me die. So I sealed myself away, where at least I couldn’t hurt anyone else.-
Vincent’s heart ached with sympathy for her — how well he had known such sentiments, years ago. He took a few steps closer to the great crystal again, reaching out—
-No!- Lucrecia cried, her spirit standing taller, nearly thrumming with the urgency of the command. -Back! Stay back!-
He bit his lip, but did as she requested. Why wouldn’t she let him help her?
-It’s too dangerous. Even though it’s been years since I’ve been in contact with the core, Jenova infects me still. If I left… there’s a chance she might be able to use me.-
“…Use you?”
-I told you Jenova seems to seek to subvert her hosts. Any body with active cells could be a puppet of her consciousness. Like me.- Her eyes met his, grave. -Like Sephiroth.-
Vincent remembered Nibelheim: Sephiroth, possessed, his brutally efficient attacks against Cloud in the mansion’s basement, his eyes devoid of anything but nihilistic fervor. He shuddered.
-Please, Vincent, tell me… Is he still alive? I dream of him, sometimes, but I’m never sure what’s real and what’s an illusion. My child…- She looked away, her voice self-mocking now. -Some mother I was, abandoning him like I did. I never even got to hold him, not once. I suppose I wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t forgive me for that.-
Vincent remained silent. What could he say to that, really?
-In some ways, really, it would be better if he had died… but I know Jenova won’t let someone with her cells be killed easily. She wouldn’t let it happen to me, and he’s more important to her than almost anything.- Lucrecia met his gaze once more. -Please, Vincent… Is my Sephiroth still alive?-
“……No. Sephiroth is dead.”
A long exhalation almost like a sigh — regretful? Thankful? Vincent couldn’t tell — and without another word, the spirit faded, leaving him alone with nothing but the Mako crystal containing Lucrecia’s body, his guilt, and the muted roar of water tumbling over rock outside.
Vincent sighed himself and turned to go, feeling more worn and tired than he had in years.
::Why did you lie?::
Oh, just what he needed at a time like this. I don’t feel like—
-Wait!-
Startled, Vincent paused mid-stride, turning back to look towards the source of the voice. Lucrecia’s spirit had appeared from the light once again, wringing her hands. -Is that... Chaos?-
“…How do you know that name?” Vincent couldn’t tell if it was himself or the demon who asked — a disconcerting thought, to be sure.
She shook her head. -That’s not important. Just… why did you come here?-
“We’ve taken up a hunt, recently. For that one you call Jenova, among…” Chaos paused for effect, and Vincent felt his teeth bared in what he was sure was a singularly unpleasant smile “…other things.”
Lucrecia shivered. -…I don’t know if you can kill her. She’s so strong…-
“I know. But I’ve always thrived on long odds.”
She smiled faintly. -If you, of all the Planet’s hosts, are cooperating with mortals, perhaps there is a chance. But still…- The glow intensified, the cavern shaking slightly, and an asymmetrical package tumbled from somewhere among the rocks to land at their feet. -You should use any advantage you have available.-
Vincent stooped to retrieve the package, unwrapping it. “A gun,” Chaos observed, almost scornfully. “Really?”
-Not for you, Spirit. That was always meant for Vincent…-
“Lucrecia… Thank you,” he said softly. “Maybe someday—”
She smiled, almost wistfully, and shook her head, already fading away. -Be careful of Jenova’s taint…-
“…Sleep well, Lucrecia.” He wondered if her rest was peaceful, or if she battled Jenova in her dreams. Jenova’s taint…
::It’s difficult to avoid with your constant hanging around SOLDIERs — especially those in whom it’s strongest.::
Sephiroth, of course, they already knew could be a risk. Zack had been possessed by it once, which could compromise him again. And Cloud…
Cloud had endured three years under the supervision of the sole practicing scientist left whose name went hand in hand with Jenova. Cloud was lying in a bed back in Midgar, his body perfectly healthy but his awareness gone who-knew-where. If I were a parasitic entity seeking a host…
Vincent ran for the cave entrance, pulling out his PHS as he went. He had to call Sephiroth and Zack. They had no idea how dangerous this could be—
He cursed. No reception — of course, not here in the midst of some of the continent’s highest peaks. Hurriedly mounting his chocobo, he urged it into a run. He could only hope he wasn’t already too late.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rufus watched the hallway out of the corner of his eyes, ostensibly reading the report in front of him. He had taken care with his appearance. His suit was black instead of his customary white, and of a different cut — one didn’t work on this level without being in a suit or a uniform — and had slightly altered his hair. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, of course. He still looked related to ShinRa, but frankly there were enough rumors of illegitimate siblings around that those who hadn’t met him personally would buy the lie that he was, in fact, not the president of the company but merely one of his secretaries. The previous holder of the office had done just such a thing with at least one of Rufus’s own half-brothers, in fact, which lent an air of authenticity to the farce.
Tseng personally thought he was taking a ridiculous risk. In fact, Rufus fully expected that his forthcoming meeting would be monitored by at least three Turks, with half a dozen SOLDIERs on standby. Tseng had strong feelings about the President risking himself, particularly since he hadn’t chosen and groomed a successor. Rufus wondered briefly if any of the still-extant terrorist cells realized what chaos would ensue if ShinRa’s chief executive suddenly vanished.
Which brought him to his current project.
Once they had discovered the long-term effects of Mako extraction, it became clear that holding Wutai was a waste of resources. Of course, having put such effort into capturing the country in the first place, they couldn’t simply let them go. Finding a way to rid his company of the burden without attracting negative press — and creating a hostile, newly independent power out for Shinra blood — had been weighing on Rufus’s mind for quite some time. It had been an unexpected stroke of pure luck that when Strife had been found, they had also found a noble of Wutai.
Now, said noble was quite peeved at being held for weeks without prospect of release. Of course, the official line was that Lady Yuffie Kisaragi had been going through training off in some hidden Wutaian village somewhere for years, ever since she ran away from home, so she couldn’t simply put in a call and have her identity authenticated; it would give away the Wutaian pretense that she was dutifully training to succeed in her father’s position and force them to address some rather unpleasant questions about her activities and whereabouts the past several years.
The young Kisaragi had been summoned to the President’s office and told that she would not be allowed to walk free under any circumstances. His body double’s script had been pretty heavy-handed, and Rufus expected, given what his spies had told him about the princess, to see her storming her way out of the office any second.
The door slammed. “God-damned Mako-worshiping moronic planet-killing—”
Rufus raised his eyes. “I’d be careful what you say, miss — not all of us can’t understand what you’re saying when you speak Wutaian.”
That brought her up short. “You too?” she replied, slipping back into Midgaran. “How many people here speak it?”
“It became standard practice for all military to pass basic fluency before promotion beyond a certain rank. Also, I have a friend who has Wutaian in his background,” Rufus replied. Of course, how many of his employees were actually conversationally fluent was something else entirely — something she didn’t need to know. Having your enemy — or potential ally — overestimating your forces was sometimes as helpful as having them underestimate you. “But I’m sure you don’t want to offend someone.”
The look on Yuffie’s face said that no, she would very much like to offend someone right now, but she kept her voice even. “Of course.”
“Take a seat. Do you like coffee? We get a good brew up here. One of the perks of being a secretary on this level.”
“I should say I like tea better, but… well.” She smiled. “Coffee is one of the best things about being away from home.”
Rufus responded in kind, as warmly as he could without feeling false. “Let me get you a cup, then.” Contact established. Now, if he could just keep her on the hook, this could be a good start to a potentially very profitable relationship. “Sugar?”
“Three, please.” She grinned. “And when you get back, you can entertain me with company gossip, since it seems I’m to be your guest.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I’m sorry for taking so long to get results to you, gentlemen, but I needed to do some background research before I could make sense of the results from Strife’s tests.” Doctor Matheson gestured for Sinclair and Sephiroth to take a seat and settled into the one behind his desk, pulling up his handwritten notes. Some of this was rather well-known in the Science Department, some of it had been gleaned from the scraps of information left behind by Hojo, and some had been retrieved from what survived of Doctor Gast’s journals, copies of which Reeve had presented him with a few weeks ago. The last had tied things up into a relatively coherent story. On the other hand, this could be a very disturbing tale for both SOLDIERs, as it had to do with what they were made of.
“You’ll excuse me, I hope, but for this to make any sense, I’m going to have to use technical terms and may possibly repeat information you already know.” Matheson looked at his two guests, sipping his coffee. Both men were doing a reliable job of remaining calm. Sinclair looked a bit anxious, but that was likely more due to his concern about his friend than anything else. On the other hand, Sephiroth looked removed from the situation, as if he were sitting at a board meeting and not in the office of the head of the Science Department. Not that Matheson supposed either was a situation the General looked positively on, but…
He cleared his throat and began. “Several decades ago, a group of scientists led by Dr. Olivia Jamison discovered a particular virus present in monsters from around the world. They believed that this strain was an important factor in regards to the supernatural abilities of these creatures and, as they were continuing to grow in numbers and strength, possibly critical to finding a way to destroy them.
“After a great deal of searching, a group led by one of Jamison’s protégés, Dr. Gast, excavated a preserved humanoid corpse on the Northern Continent. The body had a record-high concentration of the virus in its cells, and so it was turned over to Jamison, who began to study it in earnest. She didn’t find a way to counter the virus in creatures in which it was already present, but Gast put forth a theory that revolutionized their study. Not only was the virus was the first pseudoliving symbiote to have been discovered, he proposed, but it was also responsible for all inherent supernatural abilities — and thus the corpse they had found must have been the remains of one of the Ancients. As I’ve told you previously, General Sephiroth, Gast was mistaken on this last point, but that was not discovered for several years.”
“What does this have to do with Cloud?” Sinclair asked, fidgeting.
“You must understand the background before I get into the technical details, Major General,” Matheson chastised mildly. “Now, they named this body, which contained a more potent, probable parent form of the virus, J.H.E.N.O.V.A., but a transcriptual error later dropped the H, and the designation’s rarely recognized as an acronym these days.” Seeing looks of recognition, Matheson nodded and continued. “In search of funding to further pursue their research, Jamison pitched their findings to several companies. ShinRa was the only one with both the money and vision to back her team — they would use these cells on humans to create a new strain of Cetra that could lead them to the Promised Land, where they would find a rich bounty of the new energy source they had just recently embraced, Mako.
“The Jenova Project, as it came to be called after Jamison’s retirement, went through several different stages. Contrary to what you might think, you can’t make a SOLDIER by just injecting someone with Mako; they found the same to be true with Jenova. We don’t actually use the original virus, but strands of it pieced together with human rhinoviruses — those that cause the common cold, to be precise.”
“…you inject us with a cold and that turns us into SOLDIERs?” Zack looked incredulous.
Matheson shrugged. “It’s something you’ll have had experience with, and thus are less likely to reject. Anyway… Gast and his associates tried direct injection from Jenova into their subjects at first. It didn’t work. In its active state, the Jenova virus exhibits stigmergy — that is,” he clarified, “the cells it infects — or J-cells, as we often call them — develop a sort of hive mind, and can coordinate actions even beyond their regular cellular tasks. Think of it as a computer program. Most subjects reacted very poorly to this, and the resulting high mortality rate and lack of successful results put the project in jeopardy for several months. Eventually, however, the team discovered that the virus would grow dormant if withdrawn and kept separate from the core for several days prior to injection, thus decreasing the risk of rejection. To this day there has only been one recorded case where an individual has undergone direct injection and survived.” Matheson met Sephiroth’s eyes and saw understanding there.
“…does Cloud have these active cells?” Sinclair asked, subtly edging his chair closer to his commander’s.
“He does. He is now one of three who have been exposed without subsequent mutation.”
Sinclair frowned. “Wait. Seph and Cloud make two—”
“You are the third, Major General.” Sinclair’s expression was skeptical, so Matheson elaborated, “It is noted in your medical records that a little more than seven years ago, your J-cells showed a marked jumped in production and in activity, literally building you into a stronger individual. If you think about it, you’ll realize you’ve needed routine Mako injections more commonly than anyone besides General Sephiroth in the last several years.”
“…I didn’t even notice.” Sinclair looked distinctly unsettled.
“I’m not sure why you suddenly had your J-cells… awaken, for lack of a better term. At best, I would guess that at some point around that time you had contact with a carrier with a high concentration of the active virus.” Matheson noted the two exchange looks. “However, it appears that in addition to replicating the process on Strife, Hojo has also injected him with a far more complete strain of the active virus than anything ever used on a human. As for why this hasn’t caused him to mutate… Well. Cloud’s cells are exhibiting anomalous traits that have only previously been observed in the Cetra — true Cetra, that is; the Jenova-as-Cetra theory was disproved by Gast’s later research — and which seem to be an ameliorating influence on the J-cells. I can only hypothesize here, but it’s possible that Hojo injected Strife with Cetra DNA in a viral carrier. According to Gast, the Cetra were able to leave their bodies for periods of time, so it is possible, then, that Strife is wandering in the Lifestream somewhere and will return… or that he shut his mind down as much as possible to deal with the invasion and does not yet feel secure enough to emerge.”
“…does that mean we just have to wait and see?” Sinclair seemed less than pleased at that.
Matheson sighed. “I’m afraid so. The good thing is I know what we need to do to keep his body alive, at least for now.” He folded his notes and securely locked them in a drawer. “I’m not making electronic copies of this information anywhere. I’m not sure we don’t have more than one spy for Hojo among us.”
“Of course. Thank you, doctor.” Sephiroth rose, his subordinate following suit. “You’ve given us a great deal to think about.”
Matheson merely nodded in acknowledgment as the pair exited his office. Pulling off his lab coat, he dialed Reeve on his PHS. He damned well need a drink after that conversation.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Not to sound like a slacker, Seph, but… I don’t think I can go back to the office right now.”
Sephiroth looked his companion over, and had to agree. Zack looked, to quote, “like shit,” haggard and troubled. He suspected he didn’t look much better, himself. “I have the feeling that if any of the specialists were to observe us working in this condition, we would have an enforced leave before the end of the day. We’ll take lunch early.” While Zack was right that they shouldn’t take advantage of their rank, moving their lunch break up an hour, just this once, wouldn’t even be worth noting by their superiors. Without another word he led the way back to his quarters, where Zack busied himself in the kitchen for a few minutes, making something of the leftovers in the fridge.
“If what I feel like is anything compared to how you felt when you found out about… well, everything, we’re lucky you didn’t go nuts and destroy the world or something.” Zack passed him a plate from the microwave before replacing it with his own, familiarity allowing him to program it while keeping his eyes on his companion.
Sephiroth took a bite without tasting it. “I had suspicions, with my upbringing. I was… fortunate that Valentine focused more on my humanity than my… other heritage.”
Zack shook his head. “You’re human, Seph — don’t let ‘em fool you with that crap. A bit faster and stronger than most of us, but certainly human. We aren’t monsters.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, look at Red — he’s a cat, for Shiva’s sake, but he talks and thinks and has feelings and opinions just like the rest of is. I certainly think of him as a person. Cloud did, too. What we are, who we are, how we act — that is what defines us as people and not monsters.”
Sephiroth wasn’t quite sure which of them he was speaking to, but they both needed to hear it. “…You’re right.”
“I guess I should’ve thought about it,” Zack mused aloud. “I mean, getting possessed by inhuman dead stuff has to have some kind of side effect, right? Never really considered it…”
“Long-term planning never was your forte,” Sephiroth reminded him, but his voice was gentle, not teasing. Zack, as Cloud had pointed out in his journals, needed distraction when he was upset.
“Maybe not—” The chime of Sephiroth’s PHS interrupted them. Looking bemused, the General answered it. “Sephiroth.”
“I need to speak to you as soon as possible. I have discovered something, but I don’t think it would be wise to discuss it over an open line.”
Valentine, Sephiroth mouthed to his aide. “I see. Perhaps Zack could meet you?”
“I’ll see him in Junon.” And with that, the connection was cut.
“Not Hojo?” Zack asked as Sephiroth replaced the PHS in his pocket.
“If it was, he would have said as much — or at least hinted. I’m sure at this point circumstances would force us to seek support from the executive board for that.” He looked at his aide. “I do have some things that need delivering…” Not one of Zack’s usual jobs, however. It would raise questions.
“Well, I could use a break from the partner program, myself.” Zack stretched. “They’re driving me crazy. I’ll let the trainees manage themselves for a bit. We’ll call it ‘field testing’ or something.” He looked raring to go. Not surprising; whatever Vincent found was likely to be helpful in one way or another. If not Hojo, it was likely to be related to their comatose friend. “Check on Cloud for me while I’m gone? And maybe see if Aeris can help him. If he’s got Ancient stuff going on, maybe they can, I don’t know, talk mind to mind or something.”
Sephiroth didn’t point out that Aeris hadn’t been successful getting a response out of him so far. She was Cloud’s friend too, and would certainly be willing to try and help him, even if it meant just repeating things she’d already done. “Head out after office hours. I don’t want this to seem urgent.” It was possible that someone could be tapping their calls, but unlikely — and even if they were, the nature of what Valentine had found was unknown.
“Right.” Zack bolted down the rest of his food and left for the office, readying himself for the trip. If nothing else, he would have to give specific instructions to his subordinates, so he could ensure everything would still be in one piece when he returned. Sephiroth, for his part, had to smile as he finished his own meal. Who would have predicted that he would one day have Zack back in the office early?
Still, he couldn’t help feeling bit perturbed as he closed things down that night. Zack had already left, and the office was strangely quiet. Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll be back — what he’s doing isn’t even especially dangerous. After stopping by the officers’ mess to eat, Sephiroth returned to the SOLDIER barracks, stopping by Zack’s quarters before heading for his own. They were relatively close, and he could check on Cloud before he went for his evening exercises.
The door slid open with a familiar hiss. From the look of things, it appeared the Dennetts hadn’t been by yet for their nightly check-up. Sephiroth moved to the bed, looking down at Cloud. He seemed peaceful… exactly as he had the last several times Sephiroth had checked on him.
Sephiroth settled onto the chair someone had left next to the bed. He could stay at least for a few minutes.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, allowing the tension to drain out of him, before he was suddenly aware of movement where there wasn’t any before. Could it be…? He stood, moving quickly to Cloud’s side. He was awake!
Looking into his eyes, though, Sephiroth felt his heart skip a beat.
Green. Blue-green, but with far more green in them than he had ever seen, and cat-slit. “…Cloud?”
“Brother.” The smile that crossed Cloud’s face could hardly be called that. It was a strange caricature of one, mad, childlike, almost inhuman. “She’s calling us, Brother.”
“…Who?” The word slipped out before he could stop himself, feeling strangely compelled towards Cloud — no, whoever this was it wasn’t him — as one of his gloved hands settled on his cheek.
Not-Cloud leaned into his touch. “Mother. She wants you to come home.”
The opening of the door behind him startled Sephiroth. Turning quickly, he saw Mr. Dennett enter, his medical bag slung over his shoulder. “General.” The shorter man gave a salute. “I’m sorry I’m late — we had a meeting. Any change?”
“No,” Sephiroth lied, glancing back down at Cloud. No sign his eyes had ever been opened. He should tell Dennett about what had just happened; that would be the logical decision. But if he did, Cloud would, more likely than not, be terminated. For the first signs of wakefulness from a SOLDIER held captive for three years to be so uncharacteristic couldn’t be a good sign…
Sephiroth sighed. He just had to hope that whatever information Vincent had discovered would turn things more favorable for them — and that Zack returned with it soon. “I’ll leave you to your work.” Departing, he stopped briefly by his quarters before heading down to the gym, his thoughts racing all the while. The… whatever-it-was hadn’t moved Cloud’s body until now. There was only one factor he could think of that would have made a difference.
He couldn’t be left alone with Cloud again.
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Genre: General/Drama
Pairings: ZackxSeph, OCxOC, Assorted Past
Rating (Overall): PG-13
Warnings: None this chapter.
Summary: "You must understand the background before I get into the technical details."
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and all associated characters and symbols are the exclusive property of Square Enix and its associates. We’re just borrowing them for a while.
Chapter 45
“Stupid Easterners with their huge buildings — and their blasted airships. If Leviathan had wanted us to fly, He would have given us wings. What’s wrong with walking, anyway? Lazy…” Yuffie muttered to herself in her native tongue as she stalked through the ShinRa Building, trying to find her way out of the immense complex. It had been okay hanging around with Aeris and Tifa — she liked both girls, even if Aeris could give her the creeps — and busting into that lab had been downright fun.
Once they had gotten to Midgar, though…
The place was so dead in spots. Aeris had happily pointed out the gardens they had started, and Yuffie could see places where the Plate had been removed and other places where solar panels were installed. ShinRa certainly appeared to be fully following the “alternative energy sources” spiel they had started on a few years ago.
Still, these huge buildings were far too complicated for her sake. She really hadn’t liked being locked in her room. It brought back those dark stories of trophy women and sexual slavery beaten into her head since ShinRa had overtaken Wutai. She couldn’t see what they’d want with her when there were many more Wutaian women far prettier than she — some of whom might even offer their services voluntarily, too.
Yuffie scowled as she hit yet another elevator that wouldn’t let her in. She needed to find a staircase. Or the entrance to the ventilation shafts — wasn’t that how these things worked in Eastern movies?
“I’m sorry, miss, but you’re not permitted to leave. The President wishes to speak with you.”
Yuffie started, hand going for one of the kunai that were no longer on her — damn them for taking all of her weapons, too! — and tried to relax. A Wutaian speaker, but with such a strange accent… “How do you speak my language?” She studied the man before her. Dressed in a dark suit, he certainly wouldn’t have fit in in the homeland, but his features certainly suggested more than a passing resemblance to her people. “Are you—”
“On my mother’s side,” he replied, in the same tongue. “I’ve spent most of my life here in the East, however.”
“I see.” He certainly looked to be about the right age to have been the product of some of the earliest Wutaian-Eastern relationships. Yuffie winced; many of those relationships had ended with the women kicking their children out of Wutai when the war began. Their country had never been very accepting of mixed blood to begin with, but when the threat from the East had come…
“Well. Always nice to see a kinsman — but if you don’t mind—”
The man drew his gun, and Yuffie went still. He definitely knew what he was doing with it, which would probably make dodging bullets a lot more difficult. “Please don’t make me do this,” he said, as calm as if they were merely discussing the weather.
“Arrrrrrgh!” Yuffie threw her hands up in the air, muttering a few more curses before switching to Midgaran. “I can’t just stay here. I’ll go crazy!”
Unfazed, the man continued in the same tongue, “Perhaps you would be willing to utilize one of our practice grounds to help relieve your stress?”
“Perhaps,” my ass, Yuffie thought with irritation. She knew an order when she heard it. “Sure, whatever. Sounds good. Do you think I could get my weapons back?”
“I believe our technicians are working on your equipment. However, you are welcome to utilize the exercise machines, or practice your hand-to-hand combat.”
Damn.
Yuffie followed the man into an elevator, eyeing the keycard he used with barely-disguised interest. Something gave her the impression that this guy — and not knowing his name was really starting to bug her — had access to just about every level in this god-forsaken building. If she could swipe it—
He put the card carefully into the pocket furthest from her. She mentally heaped Wutaian curses on him, halfblood or no. What did a girl have to do to get out of here?
The gym, Yuffie noted grudgingly, seemed well-equipped. There were civilians utilizing a variety of machines she recognized from ads she saw occasionally, and several people who didn’t quite seem military, but not regular civilians either. At least some of them had equipment that looked vaguely medical or scientific, but their calluses and degree of fitness made it seem unlikely that they were doctors or scientists.
Yuffie brightened as she caught sight of a familiar face talking to a young man in one of those uniforms. “Tifa!”
The brunette raised her eyes and caught sight of Yuffie, and waved. “Yuffie! Come over — this is Arthur Dennett. He’s a specialist. Arthur, this is Yuffie Kisaragi, a noble of Wutai.”
“…your Ladyship?” Arthur bowed, looking a bit uncertain.
Yuffie waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. No formality, please — I hate that stuff.” She beamed at Tifa. “So what are you doing here? I thought you said you had a job at a bar.”
Tifa’s eyes flickered over Yuffie’s shoulder, then around their surroundings. The Wutaian noted with interest that her black shadow had vanished. “I imagine we’re both here for the same reason, more or less.” She nodded to Arthur. “He knows Cloud and is helping to work on getting him better.” Arthur nodded tensely. Yuffie noted the look of worry creeping up on both of their faces, and deduced it wasn’t going well.
Arthur shifted. “I’d better go — Morgan will be looking for me. Nice to meet you, Ms. Kisaragi.”
“Yuffie,” she corrected him.
“Yuffie,” he repeated with a smile. “I’ll let you know if anything changes, Tifa,” he told her, heading for the door.
“Thanks. —Arthur’s a specialist,” she explained to Yuffie. “They’re a division of ShinRa’s defense forces — midway between military and the medical world. They focus on SOLDIER health.”
Yuffie could connect the dots well enough. She knew things could go wrong with SOLDIERs — she remembered the tales from the war, of SOLDIERs going berserk, losing their humanity in the middle of battle — and promptly concluded these people must take care of SOLDIER in more ways than one. No wonder they were down here working out. “So, how long are you stuck here?”
Tifa sighed. “I’m not sure. Aeris is letting me use her room; she has quarters up here, but she prefers to live at home. I’m hoping they remember I’m likely to be out of work if they keep me up here forever.”
“Tough luck there. At least I don’t have that problem — running your own business is the way to go.”
Tifa gave Yuffie a look that spoke volumes about her thoughts on Yuffie’s ‘business.’ “I’d like to start a bar of my own, some day. I think I’d enjoy it.” She gave Yuffie an appraising look. “Hey — do you know any hand-to-hand? Because I could use a partner, and you look like you could use to work out some frustration.”
“Let’s!” It had been a while since Yuffie had focused on her unarmed combat, and she’d seen that Tifa was very, very good, but she thought she still might be able to give her a surprise or two. Wutai was the home for all fighters who danced on the air, and Tifa’s work was mostly grounded.
(SOLDIERs didn’t count — they cheated.)
“There’s an open mat over there,” Tifa pointed out. “Let’s go.” Yuffie quickly followed her. Even if she ended up getting her ass handed to her, it’d at least be a good distraction for a while.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Tseng watched as Cid Highwind exited Rufus ShinRa’s office, beaming. The Turk nodded to himself. The man was pleased enough to be reinstated as the Highwind’s captain that he hadn’t yet considered what other purpose the appointment could have served — two, in fact. One was to remove Phillip Barrington from his position. ShinRa had no place for ranking officers who questioned orders, particularly such pedestrian (if unusual) ones. They would find a more suitable position for him; if they needed to send the Highwind on another urgent mission, they would need a pilot willing to fulfil unusual requests.
The second was as a bribe.
Tseng was fairly certain that Highwind he would be able to deduce both reasons once he stopped feeling so smug. He also doubted the pilot would say anything about it; one did not rise to become a captain in ShinRa on mere ability alone.
“That went well. It’s nice to deal with simple things, occasionally,” Rufus murmured, lacing his fingers together. Tseng looked him over critically. He seemed tired, but not exhausted.
The discovery of Hojo’s continued survival was distressing for everyone in the company. Rufus had not yet ordered the Turks to search for him… which was unusual, but Tseng suspected it was more an acknowledgement of Hojo’s canniness and abilities as a scientist. He had managed to evade three SOLDIERs and Vincent Valentine, not an easy feat. Rufus also undoubtedly did not wish to give the man any more subjects. While he had decided to allow Strife to live for now, it was undeniable that the SOLDIER’s presence in the building was a security risk. If he woke up and everything was fine, it would be a non-issue; if he mutated, or turned out to be a plant by Hojo…
Well, they would likely need all of the Turks and specialists they had to handle the case. It would be unlikely that many, if any, of the SOLDIERs on base would be able to emotionally distance themselves from him enough to do what would need to be done. Strife was well liked.
At least the general SOLDIER population didn’t know about his return or his captor’s identity. Tseng doubted they would be able to keep them on task if that information leaked. This served, of course, as another reason to help Sinclair and Sephiroth keep their charge a secret.
“Has anything of interest come up?” The President turned to his chief of intelligence. He could have written reports from his Turks, but Tseng knew that Rufus preferred face-to-face briefings, in most cases — they had the benefit of not leaving a paper trail.
“Tuesti has found an interesting anomaly in the company’s finances.” Rufus’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. “He’s investigating it on his own. We’re keeping an eye on it, but we won’t interfere. We’re not sure what it is, exactly. Could just be someone skimming again.” On the other hand, it was possible that the funds were being funneled to Hojo by the as-yet-unknown spy. While the man had once commanded a huge budget as head of the Science Department, it was unlikely he could be operating on the scale indicated by the lab in Wutai without additional funding. If this was where that missing money was going, it was possible that their turncoat would ignore Tuesti’s meddling. The man had a positively amazing talent to vanish into the woodwork. Perhaps he would have more luck than the Turks.
“Well. It’s likely that no matter what he uncovers, it will be useful.” Rufus looked thoughtful. “Why was he never scouted for the Turks?”
“He was,” Tseng replied. “He certainly has the mind and the observational skills, but fell short in the physical requirements.” Tuesti wore contacts for nearsightedness, and had a weak heart from an illness he’d contracted as a child.
“Otherwise?”
“Palmer is demanding more money for the space program, if we are to successfully land a rocket on the moon. Scarlet has put in another complaint about Wallace—”
Rufus raised an eyebrow. “Their schedules are such that they never see each other.”
Tseng cleared his throat. “I believe she’s accusing him of slander.”
The President looked amused. “I would think a woman of her intelligence would know that for something to be slander, it must be false.” He leaned back in his seat. “I presume that Wallace has done nothing to actually warrant disciplinary action? I’d prefer to keep him close.”
“No. In fact, Matheson and Tuesti have both made recommendations in his file, stating he has been helpful in making contacts with the old coal mines and protecting MMG workers below the Plate. His daughter has formed a close relationship with Ms. Gainsborough, and he seems satisfied with his work.”
“Good. And the MMG Project itself?”
Tseng straightened, rattling off statistics. “Three reactors in Midgar have been taken offline permanently. Approximately forty percent of the non-loadbearing sections of the Plate has been either removed or converted into solar paneling. We have seen a thirty-four percent drop in air pollution since the project’s inception, and the solar panels are exceeding projected output figures by eleven percent. Outside Midgar, several reactors on the Western Continent have been converted to utilize coal instead, at least for the short term, with the hub at Corel among them. Furthermore, the use of both wind and water turbines in Junon has halved Mako dependence there.”
The President nodded, pleased. “And our profits remain about the same. Excellent. How are the press taking it?”
Tseng smiled, slight but there. “Most are still singing your praises, even the independent outlets. There is the occasional group insisting that this is only for the company’s own benefit and that you don’t care about the environment, but overall you are heralded as the man who will transform ShinRa.”
“Good.” Rufus stood. “Now, I suspect I’d best make sure Scarlet’s feathers aren’t too ruffled. Send Elena up.” The President didn’t trust any of his executive board enough to be alone with them, and Tseng had quite a few reports waiting for him on his desk.
Personally, Tseng was glad he wouldn’t be the one sitting in on that discussion. Scarlet was an brilliant woman with strong opinions and an unmatched skill for artillery design, yes — but she was also rather heavily dependent on sex appeal to get what she wanted, even though the Turk Leader knew well that less than half of those she charmed ever got anything further than a wink and a smile. Their mutual dislike of each other was long-standing, but though Tseng had always made a point of keeping his emotions separate from work, Scarlet was quite upfront about her antipathy, and that would have made the meeting… unpleasant, at best.
At least his paperwork wouldn’t glare at him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Vincent was sure that somewhere, Reno was laughing his ass off.
The two Turks did indeed have chocobos. Very fine, healthy, powerful chocobos.
With some of the most ridiculous names on the planet.
Vincent knew he was in trouble when he saw the name outside the yellow’s stall. Who in the world would name their racing chocobo Pilsner?
Reno, apparently. As he walked through the stables, he saw similarly ridiculous names — Absinthe for a green, Curacao for a river bird, Porter for a black that seemed rather more brown. He had lucked out with one he’d finally chosen — black as a starless night, it had been simply named Schwarz, from the Mideelish for the same color. He wondered what the announcers thought when Reno placed.
Schwarz had let Vincent cover distance quickly and venture further into the mountains than he had previously. Taking the hint from their experiences in Gongaga and Wutai, he had extensively investigated caves. He was near Cosmo Canyon, now. If he continued northward, he would hit Nibelheim.
Nibelheim… Vincent had to close his eyes, thinking of his young protégé, still sleeping within ShinRa Tower. His mother was over that river and in the mountains, undoubtedly still quietly mourning and remembering her son every winter, when Cloud wasn’t even dead.
Yet. Exactly.
He clenched his right hand in frustration. Part of him had wanted to stay by Cloud’s side, but he knew full well there was nothing he could do to help him. And it was possible that his presence might harm him — Chaos had been murmuring comments to himself in the back of Vincent’s mind when the Turk was almost asleep. Something about empty shells and new hosts.
He would not willingly inflict Chaos on anyone, much less Cloud.
He urged Schwarz down the mountainside and approached the cave in the center of the small valley. Dismounting, he tethered the chocobo and took those few steps forward to enter the cave.
It was beautiful.
The walls of the cavern were smooth and glowing slightly, as if draped in a cloaklike materia. This area was clearly an ideal place for Hojo to set up a lab, if the Lifestream had worked its way into the cave structure—
He froze. There was someone here. In the middle of the cavern, within a huge crystalline pillar, a brilliant light shone.
-Vincent…-
He knew that voice. Moving closer, Vincent gazed into the light. That figure… “Lucrecia?” He could swear his heart almost stopped for a moment. She looked almost exactly as she had when he had last seen her all those years ago, before he had gone to confront Hojo… only perhaps a bit thinner and more worn. So this is where she had ended up — he had never been able to find out anything from ShinRa’s records.
-Vincent?-
“Lucrecia!” He moved closer still—
She flung out a ghostly hand. -No! Stay back!-
Stung, he did as she requested. The Lucrecia in the crystal had not moved, not like her mirror image floating before her, but somehow the words echoed — not inside the cavern, but in his mind. Was the Mako somehow communicating her words to him, or did her spirit have its own voice?
“You’re alive…” He could hardly believe it. “How did you… end up like this?”
-Back then… the further the pregnancy proceeded, the worse I felt. There were times I was not myself, times I hardly felt human…- The spirit shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. -It wasn’t safe, not for me, not for the Project, not for any one of you. So I decided that once Sephiroth was born, I would retire from the Project to focus on researching a possibility none of us had considered: the possibility that, rather than being merely a stigmergic strain of virus — as if that weren’t far-fetched enough for a pseudoliving organism, true though it may have been — Jenova was intelligent, possessing a collective consciousness that drove its constituent parts to attempt to gain control of the higher functions of their hosts, for whatever reason.-
She shook her head at that, and Vincent knew why — in the past, Lucrecia would never have seriously considered such an irrational theory. People change, I suppose…
-And then,- she continued, -Sephiroth was born, and I… lost it. For the first time, I truly regretted the direction in which we’d chosen to take the Project — how could I have done such a thing to a child? To my child? He’d suffer the same disconnectedness and flawed thinking I had during my pregnancy… but for him, it would be for his entire life, and he would never know any different way of being.
-I hated myself. I wanted to disappear. I couldn’t be with anyone — it was too dangerous. I wanted to die… but the Jenova inside me wouldn’t let me die. So I sealed myself away, where at least I couldn’t hurt anyone else.-
Vincent’s heart ached with sympathy for her — how well he had known such sentiments, years ago. He took a few steps closer to the great crystal again, reaching out—
-No!- Lucrecia cried, her spirit standing taller, nearly thrumming with the urgency of the command. -Back! Stay back!-
He bit his lip, but did as she requested. Why wouldn’t she let him help her?
-It’s too dangerous. Even though it’s been years since I’ve been in contact with the core, Jenova infects me still. If I left… there’s a chance she might be able to use me.-
“…Use you?”
-I told you Jenova seems to seek to subvert her hosts. Any body with active cells could be a puppet of her consciousness. Like me.- Her eyes met his, grave. -Like Sephiroth.-
Vincent remembered Nibelheim: Sephiroth, possessed, his brutally efficient attacks against Cloud in the mansion’s basement, his eyes devoid of anything but nihilistic fervor. He shuddered.
-Please, Vincent, tell me… Is he still alive? I dream of him, sometimes, but I’m never sure what’s real and what’s an illusion. My child…- She looked away, her voice self-mocking now. -Some mother I was, abandoning him like I did. I never even got to hold him, not once. I suppose I wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t forgive me for that.-
Vincent remained silent. What could he say to that, really?
-In some ways, really, it would be better if he had died… but I know Jenova won’t let someone with her cells be killed easily. She wouldn’t let it happen to me, and he’s more important to her than almost anything.- Lucrecia met his gaze once more. -Please, Vincent… Is my Sephiroth still alive?-
“……No. Sephiroth is dead.”
A long exhalation almost like a sigh — regretful? Thankful? Vincent couldn’t tell — and without another word, the spirit faded, leaving him alone with nothing but the Mako crystal containing Lucrecia’s body, his guilt, and the muted roar of water tumbling over rock outside.
Vincent sighed himself and turned to go, feeling more worn and tired than he had in years.
::Why did you lie?::
Oh, just what he needed at a time like this. I don’t feel like—
-Wait!-
Startled, Vincent paused mid-stride, turning back to look towards the source of the voice. Lucrecia’s spirit had appeared from the light once again, wringing her hands. -Is that... Chaos?-
“…How do you know that name?” Vincent couldn’t tell if it was himself or the demon who asked — a disconcerting thought, to be sure.
She shook her head. -That’s not important. Just… why did you come here?-
“We’ve taken up a hunt, recently. For that one you call Jenova, among…” Chaos paused for effect, and Vincent felt his teeth bared in what he was sure was a singularly unpleasant smile “…other things.”
Lucrecia shivered. -…I don’t know if you can kill her. She’s so strong…-
“I know. But I’ve always thrived on long odds.”
She smiled faintly. -If you, of all the Planet’s hosts, are cooperating with mortals, perhaps there is a chance. But still…- The glow intensified, the cavern shaking slightly, and an asymmetrical package tumbled from somewhere among the rocks to land at their feet. -You should use any advantage you have available.-
Vincent stooped to retrieve the package, unwrapping it. “A gun,” Chaos observed, almost scornfully. “Really?”
-Not for you, Spirit. That was always meant for Vincent…-
“Lucrecia… Thank you,” he said softly. “Maybe someday—”
She smiled, almost wistfully, and shook her head, already fading away. -Be careful of Jenova’s taint…-
“…Sleep well, Lucrecia.” He wondered if her rest was peaceful, or if she battled Jenova in her dreams. Jenova’s taint…
::It’s difficult to avoid with your constant hanging around SOLDIERs — especially those in whom it’s strongest.::
Sephiroth, of course, they already knew could be a risk. Zack had been possessed by it once, which could compromise him again. And Cloud…
Cloud had endured three years under the supervision of the sole practicing scientist left whose name went hand in hand with Jenova. Cloud was lying in a bed back in Midgar, his body perfectly healthy but his awareness gone who-knew-where. If I were a parasitic entity seeking a host…
Vincent ran for the cave entrance, pulling out his PHS as he went. He had to call Sephiroth and Zack. They had no idea how dangerous this could be—
He cursed. No reception — of course, not here in the midst of some of the continent’s highest peaks. Hurriedly mounting his chocobo, he urged it into a run. He could only hope he wasn’t already too late.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rufus watched the hallway out of the corner of his eyes, ostensibly reading the report in front of him. He had taken care with his appearance. His suit was black instead of his customary white, and of a different cut — one didn’t work on this level without being in a suit or a uniform — and had slightly altered his hair. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, of course. He still looked related to ShinRa, but frankly there were enough rumors of illegitimate siblings around that those who hadn’t met him personally would buy the lie that he was, in fact, not the president of the company but merely one of his secretaries. The previous holder of the office had done just such a thing with at least one of Rufus’s own half-brothers, in fact, which lent an air of authenticity to the farce.
Tseng personally thought he was taking a ridiculous risk. In fact, Rufus fully expected that his forthcoming meeting would be monitored by at least three Turks, with half a dozen SOLDIERs on standby. Tseng had strong feelings about the President risking himself, particularly since he hadn’t chosen and groomed a successor. Rufus wondered briefly if any of the still-extant terrorist cells realized what chaos would ensue if ShinRa’s chief executive suddenly vanished.
Which brought him to his current project.
Once they had discovered the long-term effects of Mako extraction, it became clear that holding Wutai was a waste of resources. Of course, having put such effort into capturing the country in the first place, they couldn’t simply let them go. Finding a way to rid his company of the burden without attracting negative press — and creating a hostile, newly independent power out for Shinra blood — had been weighing on Rufus’s mind for quite some time. It had been an unexpected stroke of pure luck that when Strife had been found, they had also found a noble of Wutai.
Now, said noble was quite peeved at being held for weeks without prospect of release. Of course, the official line was that Lady Yuffie Kisaragi had been going through training off in some hidden Wutaian village somewhere for years, ever since she ran away from home, so she couldn’t simply put in a call and have her identity authenticated; it would give away the Wutaian pretense that she was dutifully training to succeed in her father’s position and force them to address some rather unpleasant questions about her activities and whereabouts the past several years.
The young Kisaragi had been summoned to the President’s office and told that she would not be allowed to walk free under any circumstances. His body double’s script had been pretty heavy-handed, and Rufus expected, given what his spies had told him about the princess, to see her storming her way out of the office any second.
The door slammed. “God-damned Mako-worshiping moronic planet-killing—”
Rufus raised his eyes. “I’d be careful what you say, miss — not all of us can’t understand what you’re saying when you speak Wutaian.”
That brought her up short. “You too?” she replied, slipping back into Midgaran. “How many people here speak it?”
“It became standard practice for all military to pass basic fluency before promotion beyond a certain rank. Also, I have a friend who has Wutaian in his background,” Rufus replied. Of course, how many of his employees were actually conversationally fluent was something else entirely — something she didn’t need to know. Having your enemy — or potential ally — overestimating your forces was sometimes as helpful as having them underestimate you. “But I’m sure you don’t want to offend someone.”
The look on Yuffie’s face said that no, she would very much like to offend someone right now, but she kept her voice even. “Of course.”
“Take a seat. Do you like coffee? We get a good brew up here. One of the perks of being a secretary on this level.”
“I should say I like tea better, but… well.” She smiled. “Coffee is one of the best things about being away from home.”
Rufus responded in kind, as warmly as he could without feeling false. “Let me get you a cup, then.” Contact established. Now, if he could just keep her on the hook, this could be a good start to a potentially very profitable relationship. “Sugar?”
“Three, please.” She grinned. “And when you get back, you can entertain me with company gossip, since it seems I’m to be your guest.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I’m sorry for taking so long to get results to you, gentlemen, but I needed to do some background research before I could make sense of the results from Strife’s tests.” Doctor Matheson gestured for Sinclair and Sephiroth to take a seat and settled into the one behind his desk, pulling up his handwritten notes. Some of this was rather well-known in the Science Department, some of it had been gleaned from the scraps of information left behind by Hojo, and some had been retrieved from what survived of Doctor Gast’s journals, copies of which Reeve had presented him with a few weeks ago. The last had tied things up into a relatively coherent story. On the other hand, this could be a very disturbing tale for both SOLDIERs, as it had to do with what they were made of.
“You’ll excuse me, I hope, but for this to make any sense, I’m going to have to use technical terms and may possibly repeat information you already know.” Matheson looked at his two guests, sipping his coffee. Both men were doing a reliable job of remaining calm. Sinclair looked a bit anxious, but that was likely more due to his concern about his friend than anything else. On the other hand, Sephiroth looked removed from the situation, as if he were sitting at a board meeting and not in the office of the head of the Science Department. Not that Matheson supposed either was a situation the General looked positively on, but…
He cleared his throat and began. “Several decades ago, a group of scientists led by Dr. Olivia Jamison discovered a particular virus present in monsters from around the world. They believed that this strain was an important factor in regards to the supernatural abilities of these creatures and, as they were continuing to grow in numbers and strength, possibly critical to finding a way to destroy them.
“After a great deal of searching, a group led by one of Jamison’s protégés, Dr. Gast, excavated a preserved humanoid corpse on the Northern Continent. The body had a record-high concentration of the virus in its cells, and so it was turned over to Jamison, who began to study it in earnest. She didn’t find a way to counter the virus in creatures in which it was already present, but Gast put forth a theory that revolutionized their study. Not only was the virus was the first pseudoliving symbiote to have been discovered, he proposed, but it was also responsible for all inherent supernatural abilities — and thus the corpse they had found must have been the remains of one of the Ancients. As I’ve told you previously, General Sephiroth, Gast was mistaken on this last point, but that was not discovered for several years.”
“What does this have to do with Cloud?” Sinclair asked, fidgeting.
“You must understand the background before I get into the technical details, Major General,” Matheson chastised mildly. “Now, they named this body, which contained a more potent, probable parent form of the virus, J.H.E.N.O.V.A., but a transcriptual error later dropped the H, and the designation’s rarely recognized as an acronym these days.” Seeing looks of recognition, Matheson nodded and continued. “In search of funding to further pursue their research, Jamison pitched their findings to several companies. ShinRa was the only one with both the money and vision to back her team — they would use these cells on humans to create a new strain of Cetra that could lead them to the Promised Land, where they would find a rich bounty of the new energy source they had just recently embraced, Mako.
“The Jenova Project, as it came to be called after Jamison’s retirement, went through several different stages. Contrary to what you might think, you can’t make a SOLDIER by just injecting someone with Mako; they found the same to be true with Jenova. We don’t actually use the original virus, but strands of it pieced together with human rhinoviruses — those that cause the common cold, to be precise.”
“…you inject us with a cold and that turns us into SOLDIERs?” Zack looked incredulous.
Matheson shrugged. “It’s something you’ll have had experience with, and thus are less likely to reject. Anyway… Gast and his associates tried direct injection from Jenova into their subjects at first. It didn’t work. In its active state, the Jenova virus exhibits stigmergy — that is,” he clarified, “the cells it infects — or J-cells, as we often call them — develop a sort of hive mind, and can coordinate actions even beyond their regular cellular tasks. Think of it as a computer program. Most subjects reacted very poorly to this, and the resulting high mortality rate and lack of successful results put the project in jeopardy for several months. Eventually, however, the team discovered that the virus would grow dormant if withdrawn and kept separate from the core for several days prior to injection, thus decreasing the risk of rejection. To this day there has only been one recorded case where an individual has undergone direct injection and survived.” Matheson met Sephiroth’s eyes and saw understanding there.
“…does Cloud have these active cells?” Sinclair asked, subtly edging his chair closer to his commander’s.
“He does. He is now one of three who have been exposed without subsequent mutation.”
Sinclair frowned. “Wait. Seph and Cloud make two—”
“You are the third, Major General.” Sinclair’s expression was skeptical, so Matheson elaborated, “It is noted in your medical records that a little more than seven years ago, your J-cells showed a marked jumped in production and in activity, literally building you into a stronger individual. If you think about it, you’ll realize you’ve needed routine Mako injections more commonly than anyone besides General Sephiroth in the last several years.”
“…I didn’t even notice.” Sinclair looked distinctly unsettled.
“I’m not sure why you suddenly had your J-cells… awaken, for lack of a better term. At best, I would guess that at some point around that time you had contact with a carrier with a high concentration of the active virus.” Matheson noted the two exchange looks. “However, it appears that in addition to replicating the process on Strife, Hojo has also injected him with a far more complete strain of the active virus than anything ever used on a human. As for why this hasn’t caused him to mutate… Well. Cloud’s cells are exhibiting anomalous traits that have only previously been observed in the Cetra — true Cetra, that is; the Jenova-as-Cetra theory was disproved by Gast’s later research — and which seem to be an ameliorating influence on the J-cells. I can only hypothesize here, but it’s possible that Hojo injected Strife with Cetra DNA in a viral carrier. According to Gast, the Cetra were able to leave their bodies for periods of time, so it is possible, then, that Strife is wandering in the Lifestream somewhere and will return… or that he shut his mind down as much as possible to deal with the invasion and does not yet feel secure enough to emerge.”
“…does that mean we just have to wait and see?” Sinclair seemed less than pleased at that.
Matheson sighed. “I’m afraid so. The good thing is I know what we need to do to keep his body alive, at least for now.” He folded his notes and securely locked them in a drawer. “I’m not making electronic copies of this information anywhere. I’m not sure we don’t have more than one spy for Hojo among us.”
“Of course. Thank you, doctor.” Sephiroth rose, his subordinate following suit. “You’ve given us a great deal to think about.”
Matheson merely nodded in acknowledgment as the pair exited his office. Pulling off his lab coat, he dialed Reeve on his PHS. He damned well need a drink after that conversation.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Not to sound like a slacker, Seph, but… I don’t think I can go back to the office right now.”
Sephiroth looked his companion over, and had to agree. Zack looked, to quote, “like shit,” haggard and troubled. He suspected he didn’t look much better, himself. “I have the feeling that if any of the specialists were to observe us working in this condition, we would have an enforced leave before the end of the day. We’ll take lunch early.” While Zack was right that they shouldn’t take advantage of their rank, moving their lunch break up an hour, just this once, wouldn’t even be worth noting by their superiors. Without another word he led the way back to his quarters, where Zack busied himself in the kitchen for a few minutes, making something of the leftovers in the fridge.
“If what I feel like is anything compared to how you felt when you found out about… well, everything, we’re lucky you didn’t go nuts and destroy the world or something.” Zack passed him a plate from the microwave before replacing it with his own, familiarity allowing him to program it while keeping his eyes on his companion.
Sephiroth took a bite without tasting it. “I had suspicions, with my upbringing. I was… fortunate that Valentine focused more on my humanity than my… other heritage.”
Zack shook his head. “You’re human, Seph — don’t let ‘em fool you with that crap. A bit faster and stronger than most of us, but certainly human. We aren’t monsters.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, look at Red — he’s a cat, for Shiva’s sake, but he talks and thinks and has feelings and opinions just like the rest of is. I certainly think of him as a person. Cloud did, too. What we are, who we are, how we act — that is what defines us as people and not monsters.”
Sephiroth wasn’t quite sure which of them he was speaking to, but they both needed to hear it. “…You’re right.”
“I guess I should’ve thought about it,” Zack mused aloud. “I mean, getting possessed by inhuman dead stuff has to have some kind of side effect, right? Never really considered it…”
“Long-term planning never was your forte,” Sephiroth reminded him, but his voice was gentle, not teasing. Zack, as Cloud had pointed out in his journals, needed distraction when he was upset.
“Maybe not—” The chime of Sephiroth’s PHS interrupted them. Looking bemused, the General answered it. “Sephiroth.”
“I need to speak to you as soon as possible. I have discovered something, but I don’t think it would be wise to discuss it over an open line.”
Valentine, Sephiroth mouthed to his aide. “I see. Perhaps Zack could meet you?”
“I’ll see him in Junon.” And with that, the connection was cut.
“Not Hojo?” Zack asked as Sephiroth replaced the PHS in his pocket.
“If it was, he would have said as much — or at least hinted. I’m sure at this point circumstances would force us to seek support from the executive board for that.” He looked at his aide. “I do have some things that need delivering…” Not one of Zack’s usual jobs, however. It would raise questions.
“Well, I could use a break from the partner program, myself.” Zack stretched. “They’re driving me crazy. I’ll let the trainees manage themselves for a bit. We’ll call it ‘field testing’ or something.” He looked raring to go. Not surprising; whatever Vincent found was likely to be helpful in one way or another. If not Hojo, it was likely to be related to their comatose friend. “Check on Cloud for me while I’m gone? And maybe see if Aeris can help him. If he’s got Ancient stuff going on, maybe they can, I don’t know, talk mind to mind or something.”
Sephiroth didn’t point out that Aeris hadn’t been successful getting a response out of him so far. She was Cloud’s friend too, and would certainly be willing to try and help him, even if it meant just repeating things she’d already done. “Head out after office hours. I don’t want this to seem urgent.” It was possible that someone could be tapping their calls, but unlikely — and even if they were, the nature of what Valentine had found was unknown.
“Right.” Zack bolted down the rest of his food and left for the office, readying himself for the trip. If nothing else, he would have to give specific instructions to his subordinates, so he could ensure everything would still be in one piece when he returned. Sephiroth, for his part, had to smile as he finished his own meal. Who would have predicted that he would one day have Zack back in the office early?
Still, he couldn’t help feeling bit perturbed as he closed things down that night. Zack had already left, and the office was strangely quiet. Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll be back — what he’s doing isn’t even especially dangerous. After stopping by the officers’ mess to eat, Sephiroth returned to the SOLDIER barracks, stopping by Zack’s quarters before heading for his own. They were relatively close, and he could check on Cloud before he went for his evening exercises.
The door slid open with a familiar hiss. From the look of things, it appeared the Dennetts hadn’t been by yet for their nightly check-up. Sephiroth moved to the bed, looking down at Cloud. He seemed peaceful… exactly as he had the last several times Sephiroth had checked on him.
Sephiroth settled onto the chair someone had left next to the bed. He could stay at least for a few minutes.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, allowing the tension to drain out of him, before he was suddenly aware of movement where there wasn’t any before. Could it be…? He stood, moving quickly to Cloud’s side. He was awake!
Looking into his eyes, though, Sephiroth felt his heart skip a beat.
Green. Blue-green, but with far more green in them than he had ever seen, and cat-slit. “…Cloud?”
“Brother.” The smile that crossed Cloud’s face could hardly be called that. It was a strange caricature of one, mad, childlike, almost inhuman. “She’s calling us, Brother.”
“…Who?” The word slipped out before he could stop himself, feeling strangely compelled towards Cloud — no, whoever this was it wasn’t him — as one of his gloved hands settled on his cheek.
Not-Cloud leaned into his touch. “Mother. She wants you to come home.”
The opening of the door behind him startled Sephiroth. Turning quickly, he saw Mr. Dennett enter, his medical bag slung over his shoulder. “General.” The shorter man gave a salute. “I’m sorry I’m late — we had a meeting. Any change?”
“No,” Sephiroth lied, glancing back down at Cloud. No sign his eyes had ever been opened. He should tell Dennett about what had just happened; that would be the logical decision. But if he did, Cloud would, more likely than not, be terminated. For the first signs of wakefulness from a SOLDIER held captive for three years to be so uncharacteristic couldn’t be a good sign…
Sephiroth sighed. He just had to hope that whatever information Vincent had discovered would turn things more favorable for them — and that Zack returned with it soon. “I’ll leave you to your work.” Departing, he stopped briefly by his quarters before heading down to the gym, his thoughts racing all the while. The… whatever-it-was hadn’t moved Cloud’s body until now. There was only one factor he could think of that would have made a difference.
He couldn’t be left alone with Cloud again.
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