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"One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one."
      --- Agatha Christie
"You can't say that civilization don't advance, however, for in every war they kill you in a new way."
      --- Will Rogers

Requiem for the Sinners Part 23
Our Isaac

A soft, keening sound began to issue from the ZS cockpit. Emilio, the tech watching the monitors, furrowed his brow sharply, glancing up at the vice-general who was standing in front of the cockpit, as still as stone. There was a clipboard in Harper's hands, and he wrote on it, eyes flicking up to look into the cockpit every few seconds before they returned to the page as the pen flew across it.

"Heart rate is rising, sir. Shouldn't we--"

"Sh. Shhh..." Harper stared through the clear hatch of the cockpit, even though Gabriel couldn't see him. The helmet covering the boy's head was black, the visor dark and mirrored. All he could see in it was his own warped reflection through two sets of glass. Harper could tell from tension in the boy's body that the ZS had set in at full force. The boy's small, black-gloved hands moved effortlessly over the cockpit panels, the motion almost too effortless to see.

But still, that crying sound never stopped.

Harper glanced over at the simulation monitor that showed the whole fleet of Legion. The red blips representing enemy ships and mobile suits disappeared from the screen in silent flashes as Gabriel's kill count rose.

The tech's voice was strained. "Pulse is over two hundred. Blood pressure is spiking. Brain waves erratic. Sir, we must stop!"

"Just a few more seconds. He can take it," Harper whispered, never taking his eyes from the hatch. The young pilot was jittering in the cockpit, convulsing. His head was bowed sharply, the helmet bouncing off the boy's chest in great wracking shudders.

But still, he reached for the controls. Still he killed.

A part of Harper wanted to tell Emilio to stop it, to shut it down. A part of him wanted to destroy the machine. But he forced it down. He couldn't afford to let his personal feelings interfere with the training of ZS Candidate #14, and he knew it.

His name isn't the ZS candidate, it's Gabriel. The thought hit him, berating him, and he forced it away, focusing on the matter at hand.

You can do it, kid. I believe in you. C'mon... c'mon... you blow those motherfuckers away. Kill them all!

A high piercing shriek rose from the cockpit.

It was the boy.

"Pulse is over two fifty. I'm shutting her down," Emilio said furiously, reaching for the power stud.

"No!" Harper hissed. "Ten more seconds!"

"Jesus, sir, he's going to arrest!!"

"He won't," Harper murmured. "C'mon, boy. Let's see what you got..." Although he didn't realize it, he always thought of the kid as "the boy" once he entered the cockpit, not as Gabriel.

It wasn't Gabriel. It was just the boy. It wasn't the child Harper had found lying in a pool of his own blood behind an overflowing dumpster, lying in a back alley on Bottomside while rats took half-hearted bites at him.

It was just the boy. And it was the best weapon they had.

One of the monitors began to emit an alarmed scream.

"Vice-General, please..."

And then the voice came that Harper had been waiting for, as the last red blip on the simulation screen disappeared.

It was the voice of ZERO.

"Enemy fleet destroyed. Thirty minutes, twenty-three seconds."

"Shut it down!" Harper barked, and the tech complied instantly.

The boy's screaming wavered into a low primitive howling, like an animal caught in a trap, unable to escape.

Harper opened the hatch and reached in, undoing the harness and ripping the EKG pads from the boy's chest and arms, unhooking the helmet from the cockpit. He pulled the boy out, feeling him spasm like a speared fish in his arms. As he laid the boy flat on the floor, he felt the boy's breath come in broken gasps, the boy's heart fluttering in his chest like a trapped bird.

"Come on, kiddo." He pulled Gabriel's helmet off.

He felt a nasty jolt of shock when he saw blood on Gabriel's face, thinking the boy had finally hemorrhaged internally, bleeding out in a slow, painful death like all the other young candidates before him. Harper felt the panic recede, however, when he saw the split in the boy's bottom lip. He had bitten it.

The boy's nose was also bleeding a little, but not much. Harper took a rag from his pocket, wiping the blood from the boy's face.

Gabriel's dark eyes were wide and blank, the pupils nothing but small pinpricks. He was still moaning wordlessly, shuddering.

"S'okay, kid. Gabriel, shhh, it's okay..." Harper whispered, cradling the boy's head in his large palms.

Finally, Gabriel blinked, his eyes fluttering shut, tears leaking out from beneath dark eyelashes. He was still whimpering softly, his whole body shuddering violently when he exhaled. Unbidden, the boy's thumb found its way to his mouth, and the boy sucked it, curling up into a fetal position in Harper's lap. Sighing, the vice-general brushed raven curls back from the boy's face.

"Emilio, record that. Encounter fifty-two: thirty minutes, twenty-three seconds."

The tech stood, torn between storming out and doing his job. But there was resolve on his face. "Sir, I can't do this anymore. I will recommend another med-tech for my replacement."

Harper looked up at him, gray eyes frigid. "There isn't anyone else with the clearance to do your job. If you're squeamish, you're just going to have to get over it. This is a war."

The tech swallowed. "I realize this, sir, but I have children."

Harper rocked Gabriel gently as the boy slipped into a dazed sleep. His voice was soft as he tried not to wake the boy. "I know that, Emilio. And you will receive an extra stipend for your services in this operation."

The med-tech shook his head, speaking slowly, as if trying to find the words. "It... isn't that, sir. I mean, I am a father. I have two sons myself." He looked down at the limp boy lying in Harper's arms.

"One day, he will not make it out of the cockpit. I have seen the General. If anything happens to el nino, I do not want to be involved. Besides..." the tech added, his voice a little stronger, "... he is just a little boy."

Harper pulled off the pilot's gloves and rubbed Gabriel's hands, feeling how cold they were, even though the rest of the boy's body burned in his arms like a hot coal. "We need this to win, Emilio. Better one little boy than all our sons, don't you think?"

Emilio didn't answer.

Harper looked up at him, his expression closed and dangerous. His gray eyes glittered ferally. "What do you think those Preventer soldiers will do if they have L2 again? What do you think will happen to your sons then?"

He stood up, the boy still in his arms, as lifeless as a ragdoll. He stood face-to-face with the med-tech. "No, my friend. You are the only one qualified to do this, and you will continue to do it. Do I make myself clear?"

The tech's eyes narrowed as they flicked to the near-comatose boy, then back to the man holding him. He sighed softly.

"Crystal, sir."

~*~

Harper quietly carried the pale, sleeping boy to Duo's quarters. A whimper came from Gabriel every minute or so, eyes twitching beneath closed eyelids as he sucked his thumb like a child much younger.

It's okay. He never remembers, Harper told himself sternly, feeling the boy's heartbeat racing under his hands, even now as the boy slept. He never remembers what he sees afterwards. It's just like a nightmare you can't remember when you wake up. He's strong enough to handle it.

~~"One day, he will not make it out of the cockpit. I have seen the General. If anything happens to el nino, I do not want to be involved."~~

Nothing's going to happen to him, Harper thought furiously, cradling the boy more closely, as if protecting him from the thought. He's a tough kid. He's got a gift.

Slowly, as he neared the living quarters of the makeshift base, the boy's shivering faded off, his breathing steadying into the slow, even rhythms of true sleep. Harper smiled at him gently as he shifted the boy to one arm to get his key card and unlock Duo's quarters.

...He's tough.

Duo wasn't in his quarters, and Harper wasn't surprised. It was late... after midnight, even... and Duo was hardly ever in his quarters in the middle of the night. He was prone to prowling, like so many others who had grown up on the streets of L2, when the time after midnight was often the most exciting... and dangerous.

The general's mattress was bare; blankets were piled on the hard ground beside it, a pillow propped up against the wall. Harper had always wanted to ask Duo why he still slept on the floor when he could sleep in a bed, but he could never get up the courage.

Lying Gabriel on the large mattress, Harper picked up the blankets from the floor, spreading them across and tucking them in beneath the boy, so his bare feet wouldn't get cold. He took the pillow and carefully placed it under the boy's head, soft enough not to wake him.

Harper smiled a little, brushing bangs back from the kid's face. There.

Yawning widely as he turned away, Harper sat in the chair at Duo's time-beaten desk and propped his feet up on it, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. He lit one and inhaled a third of it, blowing the smoke at the ceiling. He took one more long drag before grinding it out on the underside of the old desk. Duo didn't like anyone smoking around the kid.

Duo...

He shook his head slightly, scowling. He didn't want to think about Duo now. Not now. That made him think of Yuy...

~~"He belongs to Relena. He's one of them."~~

~~"Wrong. He doesn't belong to Relena, he belongs to me, and he always has."~~

Harper narrowed his eyes.

Duo... I trust you. I told you I trust you, and I do.

...But please don't fuck this up.

Not over him.

TBC...

 

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