Shades of the Self

[Author's Note: An excellent example of why one shouldn't take over a year to complete a fic...]

May 3rd, 8:00 p.m. L2 time
Duo Maxwell leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head as he studied the email displayed on the computer he usually only kept a catalogue of his eastern junkpile's contents. The message was from Preventers headquarters, and had ben tagged as a parts order. One of the technicians, Melisande L'Marlon, had asked if he could verify the composition of a sample of metal found at an attack site. The sample in question was in a box sitting on the desk beside him. He shifted his eyes to their corners to view it, as if to warn it that he wasn't going to let it out of his sight. He knew its story, as relayed to him by Quatre two weeks earlier. There were various attacks that it could have been from. This was suspected to be part of the cause of one that had been aimed at either Quatre or Preventers headquarters...or Dimitri Reaves. The projectile that destroyed Shockwave could have been targetting any of them -- its speed and timing left several questions. Chilling questions.
He was reading over their findings for the fifth time, weighing the conclusion. To his mind something seemed to be missing. He turned his chair and pushed off from the side of the desk, gliding over to a narrow filing cabinet. He reached under his shirt and pulled out the key to the bottom drawer. Out of habit he glanced around the room before inserting the key and opening the drawer. It was divided into quartered-off sections instead of folders. Each box held a sample of a different metal, chemical substance, and, in three cases, a residue. He glanced quickly over the labels, pulling out two bags from the last category, and one from the first which contained tiny triangular shards of red and white. He stared at the labels again. Twelfth of May. A.C. 195. Siberia.
Most of the other samples had more informtion, such as what they had come from. The ones that didn't...were things he would always remember, dates burned into his memory, such as this one was.
He took out the three disks that accompanied the samples, data on the related chemical and reaction properties. One by one he compared the readouts to the information the Preventers had sent. His mouth formed a grim line as the data matched in the majority of the tests. The substance used to create the explosive and the projectile that contained it were similar and almost unique to those rigged to the computers in a certain base in Siberia that, to his knowledge, still remained hidden.

May 3rd, 9:00 p.m. Preventers time
Quatre expected Dimitri to be pacing his cell like a caged animal, yet after his initial outburst he had submitted to regulation confinement. Maybe it had been the invoking of his right to remain silent. Quatre dismissed that theory. The Reaves boy had always been a loose canon, and even Preventers training could not stifle that forever. Quatre watched him now, through the small one-way mirror adjacent the door of the surprisingly well-furnished room. The bed allowed more comfort than a cot, and there was a desk with a built-in computer opposite it -- Dimitri had asked for some reports he hadn't completed yet. Curious about the request but not wanting him to be set off again, Sally had the papers sent to him. He wouldn't be able to send any information other than to her personal computer, so if he had cohorts on the outside, he wouldn't be able to contact them.
Quatre gazed at the figure typing away on the keyboard, then turned away, feeling like pacing, himself. Even with Dimitri confined, he still had other worries. They had no leads on Advisor V, and so far the Russian youth had only been questioned about the attacks on the Preventers, to which he had given sound proof in his defense. Quatre wished he had been able to trace V's first appearance at the time it occurred. But that seemed so long ago...and there had been so many other concerns at the time...
He became lost in thought, and so didn't notice the door to the monitoring room open until the person who had entered laid a hand on his shoulder. Slower than usual he whirled and placed his hand on their wrist to warn them off, coming to a halt as his eyes met the apparently worried gaze of the girl he knew of as Irina. For a moment they stood there, frozen; then she withdrew her hand from his shoulder and his grasp. "I...was just coming to check on you," she stammered. "Your daily review is late, and Sally made a comment about that not being like you."
Quatre blinked at her. He had forgotten all about it. He was supposed to assess her performance as a replacement. "I'm sorry, Irina. I've been a little preoccupied..."
"So I've noticed." She sat down in one of the chairs near the window, slowly swiveling back and forth although keeping her eyes locked on Quatre's face. "I don't know what exactly happened between you two, but maybe you should give a try at letting it rest. Let someone else worry about him." She turned her gaze briefly toward Dimitri's back.
"I'm...I'm worried for him. His -- Someone didn't want him getting caught up in the war, but it happened anyway. I feel like the responsibilty of watching over him was passed on to me."
Alexis raised a doubting eyebrow. "And who is holding you to it?"
Quatre looked to the floor. "...No one. Just a silent promise." He then brought his gaze up to look at a point beyond the top of the window.
Alexis refrained from rolling her eyes, and turned back to Dimitri, smiling coldly. Quatre isn't going to protect you, dear little Dimitri. You made yourself a pawn in our game all on your own. Abruptly the Russian youth sat up straight, then began to turn toward the mirror. A faint twitch appeared once beneath Alexis' left eye, all amusement draining from her face. You're no newtype, Dimitri Reaves. You aren't like my predecessor...That's why you're of even less use than me. Now she swiveled the chair even more slowly, never moving her gaze from Dimitri. She waited to see if he would turn around completely and meet her eyes. And then she would go in and kill him...If he had latent abilities..then he was even more of a threat to her.
A troubled sigh from Quatre reminded her to loosen her grip on the arms of the chair. She darted a quick glance over. He was pacing toward the door, oblivious to her homicidal tendencies. She breathed her own sigh of relief. When she looked at Dimitri again, he was back to diligently typing. For a brief moment she wanted to smile, wondering how he would get out of the trap he was currently in. If he did escape, there was always another to fall into. "Quatre," she said in a perfectly sincere voice, "Why don't you take a break? Really, he isn't going anywhere, and he'll be safe while you have a few hours sleep."
He had just completed the circuit from door to window, and frowned, uncertain. She reached out and gently touched his arm. He brought his gaze up, and for a long moment they merely looked at each other. Alexis forced away a shudder. What is with his eyes?! So deep...So...sad...
He's so pathetic.
She buried the urge to slap him. But if she ever had her way, she would toughen that look out of him.
Yet for the moment, she could only experience a rising feeling of panic as she sank into those eyes. If he didn't speak soon, she suspected he would bore directly into her soul...Decaying, defiled thing that it was. Finally he lowered his head again, sighing once more. "...You're right..."
She turned back to the window as he headed for the door. Once the latch clicked, and she was sure he wasn't going to return, she brought one hand up to rest against the glass. Then she curled her fingers, scratching her nails down the pane, just lightly enough to not draw an obvious sound.

12:30 a.m.
Quatre was reliving a familiar dream.
White, cold whiteness everywhere. On the ground, over the trees in the distance, filling the air. He staggered along through it, hugging his arms across his chest. A large dark shadow to his right indicated a cliff face.
Except this time he was in a completely different state of mind.
He looked around in the futile hope of finding shelter. His clothes were soaked, and his skin felt colder and colder by the second. He knew the cliff could offer a dry, safe place, if he could reach it in time...
As before, he saw a human-shaped blur ahead. This time it was Duo, and he seemed to have the same idea about the cliff's secret. Yet he was merely trudging back and forth, looking down at the snow as he went, as if searching for something he had dropped. Quatre called to him but the wind tore the words off in another direction. Finally Duo looked up at him, and his eyes widened in alarm. He began to wave his arms frantically. Quatre glanced over his shoulder to check if there was danger behind him...Then the ground began to tremble. He turned back to Duo in time to see the cliff begin to crumble...and gather into an avalanche that swept toward the braided pilot.
Duo lowered his arms. His mouth opened and he shouted something, but the words did not reach Quatre. Not for several heartbeats, and not heard by his ears but in his mind, in a normal tone rather than a yell, yet still urgent. "The answer, Quatre, it's there. The answer...We had it all along..."
He was spared the sight of Duo being caught in the avalanche and dragged along like a ragdoll, for just then the remainder of the cliff exploded in a burst of blinding light.

Quatre's eyes flew open, and he blinked several times at the bottom of the bunk above him. The Siberia base...the answer..?

1:00a.m.
Alexis was typing her own report when a knock sounded from the observing room's door. She glanced up with a mild expression as it opened and Trowa walked in. Well, hello, my dear amnesiac, she purred to herself. She gave him a nod in greeting.
He held up a small print-out with an inked signature. "Checking in with an additional interrogation for the suspect, Cyc..lone.." The last word caught in his throat, which he hastily cleared. "Sorry. It's been a long day..." He massaged his forehead with one hand, smoothly tucking the paper into a pocket with the other. "If you want to take a break, I can handle this alone." He glanced toward the window and narrowed his eyes.
"Sure." She smiled. And then I could go check on Quatre and see how well he's sleeping.
She saved her report and logged out of the computer while Trowa scribbled on the assignment sheet beside the door. He nodded to her as she passed by, and waited a moment before closing the entrance. Then he turned toward the door to the isolation room. It sealed behind him a step later, as he approached Dimitri, reaching to take a computer disk from his other pocket. "I believe you dropped something back on the cruiser..."

1:15 a.m.
Alexis made her way to the temporary sleeping quarters with a rapid step, one hand eagerly shifting to the inner pocket of her jacket. Whether he is asleep or not, this should be easy. Time to finish my aborted mission from last year... She stopped at the door and listened. This would have been so much easier the first time. Here I've had to go through all the trouble of getting Dimitri out of the way first...Not that I'll get much credit for that. Finding all to be quiet, she opened the door without knocking.
Instead of being asleep, Quatre was fully dressed and sitting on the side of the neatly made bunk. His head was resting on his folded hands, and he was gazing at the floor, eyes distant as he pondered something of great seriousness. Such intent could be felt in the air. Alexis didn't even want to wonder what it was, this time. She swiftly approached him, keeping her right hand closed. He had noticed her entry and was rising to meet her, his pensive look fading. "Irina..?"
"Quatre, I...need to talk to you..." She didn't quite pull off the stutter as planned -- she was tired of acting. She halted mere inches away, her face oh-so-very-close to his. "Quatre...I...I..." She reached her left hand up to almost touch his cheek, then she leaned even closer, her lips about to touch his, while her other hand came up, closing in on the back of his neck...
The jolting sound of an alarm made her yank away, hand and body, to stare at the recessed emergency light by the door. "Jailbreak..." she uttered, then traded horrified glances with Quatre. "...Dimitri!" they said together. Quatre darted toward the door first, apparently having forgotten what had almost just happened. Alexis tucked something back into the inner pocket, then took off after him. That bedamned brat -- now I will kill him! She patted the other side of her jacket, ensuring her gun was there.
"T-Trowa was guarding him when I left," she gasped out when she caught up to Quatre. "Oh, I hope he didn't get hurt!" That idea hadn't occurred to Quatre, evidenced by the addition of guilt to his expression. He just makes this too easy. She abruptly grabbed his arm and veered into a supply bay, giving him no chance to object. The lights were dimmed except for the pulse of the alarm. Quatre gave her a confused look. "Quatre, he'll be coming after you. If he has attacked Trowa, then he won't hesitate to do it again. You should find someplace safe..."
He shook his head. "No, then someone else will get hurt on my account. Besides, I'm the only one who can stop him." He actually felt more conviction than he spoke with.
"I...don't want to see you get hurt..." She tried to rouse a teary look. Then she solemnly pulled out the gun, clicking the safety off. "I won't let you get hurt."
"That won't be necessary...I think I finally know what to say to him." Hopefully...Wherever you are, Duo, I hope you really do have an answer. Quatre placed his hand on the gun, forcing her to lower it. He offered a brave smile, stepping back. Then they both turned as footsteps sounded outside the door. They wouldn't have to go find Dimitri...
The Russian youth raised a gun as he charged in. Trowa was only a few steps behind, hail and whole. Alexis saw the looks on their faces, Dimitri's in particular, and pointed her gun directly at Quatre's head. "Stop there!" she snarled, dropping in an instant all of the kindness and concern Quatre had come to recognize as being what made up her voice. He stared down the barrel of the gun, his heart pounding.
The two froze, but Dimitri kept his gun leveled at her. "Stand down, Alexis. It's over!" She flinched when he spoke her real name.
Quatre blinked. "A...lexis..??"
"It doesn't matter what you know!!" she pointed her left hand at them accusingly. "You're already too late!" No...how can it all be unravelling so fast...No!!
Dimitri took one step forward. "I think you're lying."
Quatre scowled and decided to ignore the danger so close to his face. "What's going on here?!" He glared at Alexis but she refused to look at him.
Trowa was the one to reply. "She is the perpetrator of all of the recent attacks, rigging Shockwave and our cruiser, all of it."
Again Quatre demanded Alexis' attention. "What?!"
Dimitri lowered his arm slightly. "She's not what you think she is, Quatre...Advisor V sent her, same as he did when you were building WingZero. She's...she's not even a true human. Quatre...she's...She's a clone." He had to stop to compose himself, clenching his fist and jaw. Tears gleamed in his eyes when he opened them again. "He...made her. He created her...S-She's...a..."
"A clone of Alexa," Trowa finished for him. His voice was steady but there was pain in his eyes, too. A loud sob escaped from Dimitri.
Quatre drew in a sharp breath. He actually felt more stung by the comment about not being a 'true human'...it made him harken back to his knowledge of test tube babies...Before he could reply, Dimitri found his voice again and looked directly at the blond pilot. "There's more. Alexa's illness...She wasn't born with it. V injected her with some kind of...virus, or something like one...as a test. He murdered her for a test." His fist clenched again. "I haven't found out just what it was about, or why the damned clone, but..."
Alexis drowned him out with an enraged shriek. "Don't you start, you bastard!! You're not going to do this to me now!! I'm better than her!! She was so weak! I'm the success!!" She waved her fist emphatically yet managed to keep the gun steady enough that Quatre couldn't slip away.
She had snapped.
Dimitri lifted an agonized face to stare at her. "W-Why did you go along with it, already knowing what you were? Why...couldn't you just walk away and be your own person?" His voice quieted. "Then you wouldn't have been in her shadow at all..."
"Shut. Up. I wasn't created with those capabilities. SHUT UP!" She screamed the last and at the same time shifted focus back to Quatre. Her finger tightened on the trigger with an audible click. The sound of gunshot echoed through the room.
Alexis staggered backward, clutching at her right hand. Her gun clattered to the floor. Quatre skirted around it on his way to Dimitri's side. The Russian youth was breathing hard, his gun hand shaking. Seeing Alexis' hand explained why. Blood welled up around her left hand, already having formed a puddle on the floor. The bullet had penetrated her palm just above the wrist. Her grip had been far too loose when he fired. She staggered a few more steps, emitting stifled utterances of pain. She tried to amend her grip on the wounded hand. She ended up releasing a bloodcurdling scream of agony. Dimitri's arm steadied abruptly, his visage hardening. "You're not the only one with a convincing act."
Her cry became a growl of rage. She lunged for her gun, trying to cradle her damaged hand against her, and succeeded at both. She fired a wild shot that made all three of them duck, then she made a run for the exit.
"GET BACK HERE!!" Dimitri tore after her without a second thought. Trowa winced , expecting to hear a shot from Alexis lying in ambush. But all he heard were retreating footsteps. He sighed heavily, about to move to follow, then gave pause and looked at Quatre instead. The blond pilot had gone pale, and seemed to be struggling to grasp what had just been revealed. Something about him didn't seem right...Trowa went over and put a hand on his shoulder to give him a physical anchor.
"...I knew her...She tried to help me...She was so sincere..." Confusion warred on his face, to be defeated by a solemn frown. "But this...A clone..?" Then his eyes widened as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "Irina...Cyclone...Right under my nose the entire time. I feel so gullible..."
Trowa squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You couldn't have known. No one would, if Dimitri hadn't slipped me that disk -- he had some limited information drawn from his own suspicions. I researched as much as I could for him, even tried investigating a few locations. And partially," he added in a frank tone, "To see if he had done a slippery job of covering his tracks while pointing the blame to someone else. While he did have some involvement with V, he had absolutely no knowledge of just what she was or the illness..." He trailed off, having to swallow back his own revulsion.
Quatre turned away a bit, not needing to be reminded of the latter. He hugged his arms to his chest, inadvertantly placing his hands over his heart. "Alexa..." He drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sure he reacted much worse..."
Trowa glanced off toward the upper left corner of the room. "Um, yes. We didn't intend to set off the alarm."
The blond pilot studied the floor, another wave of bewilderment washing over him. He began to recall his dreams from the past month...After a moment he said evenly, "We have to go after them. I don't think Dimitri will kill her, but if he does, he'll be in more trouble than before."

Alexis darted around another corner, then tucked herself inside a sealed doorway. She had managed to ditch Dimitri, and likely because she had pulled her jacket sleeve down over her destroyed hand and tied the end shut to keep it from hanging loose -- otherwise he could merely follow the trail of blood. They had made a good chase of it, startling those agents who had responded to the alarm. None were able to stop the two, however -- she barreled right through anyone in her way, and he shoved past anyone who managed to move back into the path. She was glad for the people, though. At one point there was a small group in the way, and she had gotten just far enough ahead of him that by the time he got past the choked hallway she had gotten out of sight.
It bought her the time she needed to tend to the tell-tale leak, then she continued to put distance between her and her betrayers. How could they have found out?! She uttered an angry sob. So close, I was SO CLOSE! She clenched her fist and then dashed out along the narrow corridor. This part of the base was totally empty, and no surprise; it was the oldest portion, generally fit for only non-perishable supply storage. Here she was sure she could find someplace to hide until she regained some strength. The loss of blood was slowing her down. They ruined EVERYTHING!! I'll get them...I'll get them all!
She stopped again near the entrance to an airlock, placing her good hand near her throat as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest heaved oddly, then she recognized it as another sob. She put her hand up to her face. "W-What..?" She drew her hand away, and stared at the clear droplets on her fingertips. "N-No...I can't cry...I can't...I can't." She wiped at her eyes then sniffled.
There was a hiss of air as the inner door of the airlock opened. Startled, she practically leaped away to run again. She didn't get more than two steps before a male voice spoke. "You failed the test." She knew that voice. She whirled. He had shaved off his moustache, and his face looked different. Yes, same platinum hair...but his face...Suddenly she realized what he must have done. And at that point it was too late to escape.
"Come here, angel..." He raised the gun.

With Duo's help, Quatre and Trowa were able to clear Dimitri's name...Even though it seemed all for naught. Both the Russian youth and the troubling clone disappeared. Although Quatre searched for them over the course of the next five years, he never found any trace of them. The case was left in the Preventers archives, and all of the former gundam pilots settled into normal lives as peace finally took a firm hold after the Second Eve War. More years were to pass, and a new generation was born. However, certain events set in motion so long ago would cause them...

...To Walk With Ghosts
Episode Zero, Part One: Winner Ascends

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(c) 2002 - 2004 Autumn Loweck. This work may not be copied, distributed, or reprinted without the author's permission. Characters of Irina/Alexis, Dimitri, Advisor V, Alexa, and mecha Shockwave and Thunderforce are property of Autumn Loweck (aka Shiri) and may not be "borrowed" or mentioned in other works without notifying the author first. Characters of Quatre R. Winner, Trowa Barton, Sally Po, the Preventers, Sandrock, and Heavyarms belong to the creators of the GundamWing series, Sotsu Agency, Sunrise, Bandai, and whoever else in Japan involved in this most cool anime.