Appotropaic Apparatus
part threeManifest, England was by far one of the most beautiful places Duo had ever stepped foot on. The grass was green as emerald gems and the sky seemed clearer than any other place on the world he'd had the chance to visit. Perhaps it was the weather or perhaps it was the season but the fact remained, Manifest was beautiful He stepped off the plane and smiled at the man who carried the black duffel to him.
"Is this all you brought with you sir?"
Duo nodded, "I don't plan on staying long. Just business."
The man seemed confused, "Business? You mean you're not here for the conference?"
"What conference?" Duo shouldered his bag and began to walk with the attendant towards the gate, both being the last to exit the shuttle.
"Lady Kyldre is holding a conference all this week in honor of the World Beauty Association."
The WBA was well known for its movements to preserve the remaining rainforests and natural resources still found in the earth. Lady Kyldre was just as well known. Founder and main operative of the foundation, she led most of the protests against those who took the world and its balance for granted. In truth, since the beginning of the colonies, humans had become less concerned with the condition of their planet. The colonies had become a promise for eternal life, the savior against extinction. For environmentalists, human advancement and further exploration of space only meant devastation for the Earth. In the beginning stages of colonization, the WBA had been called in for suspicion of sabotage.
Duo's mouth tightened into a thin line. Could the WBA have anything to do with the black disks? They were said to greatly oppose technology, fearing it would one day replace humans as the ruling species of the planet. Still, the conference and the disk both hailed from Manifest.
"Lady Kyldre, hm?" he said aloud, "You wouldn't happen to know the topic of the conference this year, would you?"
The man snickered, "Anybody here could tell you that. Lady Kyldre is planning to reveal her latest plan to ensure human life on the planet earth. She hasn't clued to what exactly it is but everyone from across the globe and even from the colonies is coming." He scratched his head, wisps of hair coming astray from his comb over, "I'm sorry, but I thought everyone coming into Manifest was attending."
Duo looked towards the rental car desk, "Now that you mention it, it sounds interesting," Duo lied, "I'll think about it. Thanks a lot. I can manage from here, sir."
"Of course you can." He smiled and extended his left hand, "I hope you enjoy your visit here in Manifest."
Duo looked at the offered hand then at his own. "You'll excuse me if I don't shake your hand, sir. Consider it a phobia."
He nodded, "That's alright kid, everybody's got one."
Duo watched as he left and picked up his reserved car. Everybody in the town seemed to have permanent smiles pasted to their faces. If you thought airline stewardesses were overly enthusiastic, you hadn't seen anything. From the bubbly girl behind the counter to the equally so one holding out his keys, everyone was all smiles and giggles. It was sickening. Duo hopped in his car and drove to his hotel without a care. He'd learned long ago that life wasn't all 'smiles and giggles' and seeing the ignorant expressions made him sick. Sure, they hadn't fought a war. They hadn't seen the death and destruction both inflicted on and caused by him. They hadn't heard the screaming, seen the tears, the blood. But each person had his or her own hell. Maybe their father was some deadbeat jerk, maybe they were married to an abusive spouse, maybe someone close to them had died. They had no reason to carry on like that. It wasn't having pain that made on weak. It was hiding the fact that things hurt. Duo snorted. How funny the words sounded from him, the joker, the one who hid behind the mask of laughter. Equally funny was how suddenly a mask can shatter. When had it happened? When Hilde died? That sounded about right. The explosion had been so sudden, a miscalculation of power fluxes in the machine they had been building from the scrap. She hadn't even had time to scream. A single piece of metal shot through the air and decapitated her, a clean diagonal cut leaving her right ear and some of her chin still attached to her neck. He'd assumed it had been a closed coffin funeral. He wouldn't have known. He didn't attend. He left the next day to L4, hoping for work. He couldn't stand the site of the scrap yard anymore. Too many memories. When he'd arrived at Quatre's doorstep, the other hardly recognized him. He'd no money to travel with, had been wearing the same clothes for several weeks and his hair was in shambles, like a river of churning rapids. The rich life hadn't been much better though. Quatre fussed and worried over him, assuring himself something was very wrong. Since when did a strait face mean one was depressed or hurt? And oh the questions he had asked. 'How did you get the money, Duo, to travel all the way here?' ,'What happened to you?' ,' Stay as long as you like, Duo, our hospitality is always open to you.' In the end though, it had been the hospitality that had urged the braided boy to leave. Refusing to give into charity, Duo left again with only what he had brought with him: clothes, pride and a shattered spirit. That had been the last time he saw Quatre, or any other ex-Gundam pilot. He feared the questions they'd ask. It was months later that he found his second chance at life, till he found someone who would accept him. Before that he had tried to get a job, tried to start over again. In times of peace, no one wanted an ex-war pilot. Shuttle corporations found his skills more than adequate but feared his present unemployment and lack of housing stability. The majority of his schooling had been in the field of ministry but the destroyer of lives and self-acclaimed Shinigami could find no church that would accept him. No studio would even listen to his vocal recordings, which had been made with what precious little money he had in pure desperation. Then there was James. He could still remember they day they'd crossed paths. Duo'd been starving and living in an ally with a stray cat as his only companion.
[Flash Back]
"Duo Maxwell?"
Duo looked up, his face sunken and eyes dead. Two clear sea colored eyes peered warmly behind transparent half-glasses tipped down the bridge of his nose.
"Who the hell are you?"
"My name's James. James Opi. You are Duo Maxwell, correct?"
Having lost any semblance of manners, Duo snapped at him, "What's it to you?"
James hadn't even flinched. He smiled and reached out a hand to him, "I'm honored to meet you. I've read all about your heroic actions in the war."
Dead laughter echoed off the brick walls, "Honored? You see me now as a dying street brat in the middle of an overpopulated colony and you feel honored?" his face cracked into a grim smile, "What kind of psycho are you?"
The conversation hadn't gotten much better. James had offered to buy Duo dinner, an offer that was flatly refused. He tried to coax him into meeting some of his associates but Duo shook his head.
"I'm just waiting here to die, buddy. Just keep walking like all the others do. I don't want your charity."
James nodded, "I understand completely. A man, even one laying in the gutter, has his pride. I don't mean to insult you. I just wandered if perhaps in your voyages you ever thought about the prospect of becoming a hired assassin."
Violet gems glared, "I'm tired of killing."
"I understand," At this point, James had sat down next to him on the filthy ground, being dressed in a fine blue suit, "But when a father doesn't come home to his family because of an act or terrorism and you had the opportunity to stop it, does it make you any less of a killer?" James took out a business card, completely white on both sides with blue writing in the middle of what appeared to be the front side. "It may be killing, but when things come down to ending one life gone bad to save one life still pure, the end justifies the deed, don't you agree?"
Duo hadn't made a noise or movement, afraid either would answer the strangers question. Yes, it was still killing.... But the way James explained it made everything seem... right.
"Headquarters."
Duo looked at him, puzzled.
"For secrecy measures, we are known only as Headquarters. All missions come through the mainframe and are researched to make sure all reasoning behind the orders are justified and true. We've taken every precaution not to be tainted by personal grudges or beliefs. I believe you would be a valuable asset to us, Duo Maxwell." James stood and wiped the grime from his suit, "We can all profit from this, Duo. Headquarters could use someone of your skill and you could use something more than what you've got here in this alley. The offer remains eternally open. I do hope I see you again. Best of luck to you." James waved cheerfully and walked away.
Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was his will to survive. Maybe he believed in what James had said. If the target was evil, then perhaps in this case two wrongs could make a right. The next day, Duo stood at the steps of Headquarters, ready to live once again.
[End Flashback]
Duo smirked as he parked the car. Like the phoenix from the ashes, so has Shinigami been reborn.
The hotel wasn't first class but it was finer then some of the dumps he'd stayed in at other times of employment. The bellhop kindly assisted him to his room even though the single bag was easy enough for just the one of them to carry. With a permafrost smile and a bow, he was gone and Duo was free to unwind. Long trips sucked. It didn't matter if the hardest thing you had to do during the whole ordeal was sit back and remain occupied, after you got to your room, you were exhausted. His bag was unpacked easily enough. One lap top which he set up on the bedside table, two pants and two shirts of uniform black, socks and underwear; all manufactured to be durable and well fitted to his body. He smirked again, lifting up the pair of leather pants he'd kept from his prior mission. Okay, so he really liked them. Even an assassin has got to have style. He laid them out across the back of a chair to keep them separated from his mission clothes. He'd love for Heero to see him in them. This was, after all, operation find Heero Yuy. A side course in seduction couldn't hurt anything. Who was he kidding? Heero'd kick his ass for sure.
With a resigned sigh, he flipped the on switch to his laptop. If Heero didn't want him then, what made Duo think he'd want him now? The ache in his heart steadily grew until he felt as though the complimentary peanuts were going to make a return flight. He fell to his knees, broken heart forgotten in the mindless pain filling him. He flung his tank top off and pulled the left blue-violet sleeve down. The ugly markings on his arms were bulging and spreading, sending waves of unimaginable pain through his entire body. Slowly it began to fade, the markings quieting and finally ceasing any strange movement. Duo panted for breath, beads of perspiration flowing over his taunt face. That was the second time since the accident with the black disk. The first time he'd thought someone had poisoned his tea, the markings behavior only the resulting hallucinations to whatever drug he'd been slipped. But it was too real to be a hallucination. Far too real.. and painful. He slowly rose to his bed and crashed down upon it. If it was a drug, it had to be the mother of them all. Nothing had that kind of potency. His body still cringed in the aftermath of the ordeal.
He knew from his one prior experience that there was only one way to escape the resulting questions, worries and pain. Sleep. And within a very short couple of minutes, blissful unconsciousness claimed him in effortless black.