[FF7-AC] Empire: Chapter 8
[FF7-AC] Empire: Chapter 8
Rating PG-13 (Safe for work) - Status: In progress - Chapter 8/? - Warnings: None
Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Rude/Reno
Fic summary: Post-AC, barreling down the road to the reconstruction ofShinra Company. A Hero, A President, a new world, and the politics that draw them all into a tangled web beyond all ability to forecast.
Chapter Summary: In which Cloud and Rufus talk, and Reeve has a bad day to end all bad days. Oh, and the politics eat people alive.
A/N: Time for that monthly update of that terribly long fic! Chapter 8, at 4.4k words, brings us past the 25,000 word mark for Empire, which really isn't half bad... and the end is still some ways off. Woo.
VIII
The world turns. With it, empires rise and fall. Things that were once known are forgotten. Things that were once forgotten are brought again to light. There are secrets here, buried within the deeps of a fallen citadel. Here lives were made and destroyed. This was the seat of the world, and the power to rule over it. And in this place, once upon a time, the means to destroy the world was created.
Perhaps the means to rebuild it lies within its walls as well.
Rufus pushed his way through the doors that the Turks had forced open, Tseng a faithful shadow just a step behind. He nodded at Reno, who waved back a casual acknowledgement and hung back, guarding the entrance and keeping a watch for Strife.
“It was an eternity ago that I was last here,” Rufus murmured, glancing around. No dust choked these corridors, not when they had been sealed to the world so securely that even Meteor’s fall had not penetrated these depths. The lights had failed, of course, but the LED torch that Tseng bore cut a wide swath through the darkness.
“This way, sir,” Tseng said, indicating a corridor.
“One hopes that the old man did not pull my access codes,” Rufus said, as he made his way with Tseng through the bowels of the building. It was not part of the main tower - it was an isolated research centre a little way away, buried underground, housing the darkest secrets of the old regime. Weapons of varying levels of legality. The JENOVA project, at one point. Beginnings and failed attempts at the SOLDIER project. Other, less successful experiments that never saw the light of day.
Shinra Company had never been in the habit of destroying things. It had been his father’s policy to horde all these failed attempts and little pieces of knowledge. There was a database here, he recalled, a hazy memory from the very early years of his childhood. They had brought him down here - him, but not his mother - brought him down these corridors, which, back then had been brightly lit, past corridors filled with locked doors.
Don’t touch anything unless we tell you to, do you hear me?
Yes, father.
He had wondered for years after that whether he had dreamt up the entire thing, but these corridors were more than passingly familiar. He paused for a moment beside a door marked with of all things, a stylized chocobo, and glanced inquiring at Tseng.
The Turk’s lips quirked in a rare smile. “Attempts to genetically engineer the mythical Golden Chocobo,” he said.
“That must have been a dismal failure,” Rufus said.
“I expect so.”
“A pity.” He moved off again.
It was with no little anticipation that he paused before the doors marked ‘Data Center’, looming tall and dark at the end of the hallway. Adrenaline was tingling in his fingertips, the sensation of being poised on the edge of some great discovery or some great breakthrough; a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
The moment of truth.
The system was pegged to something specific, he recalled, as Tseng pushed the doors open. Perhaps it was DNA, or a retinal scan, or perhaps… even something as basic as a fingerprint. Very likely, it hadn’t just been a code or a key, digital or physical - they would have no need of bringing him down here otherwise. Something that wouldn’t change, or wouldn’t change too much over the course of time.
His access card cut smoothly through the first line of security. The second was a code, and he paused, brow furrowed. If he had programmed it, it would have been years ago. He would have set something that he would remember, even given the passage of time. Something that he would remember that he would remember. Nothing arbitrary, then. His fingers hovered over the keypad, as familiar passwords flashed through his mind. He browsed through them, rejecting each in turn. Too recent, too unlikely, too recent...
He was aware of Tseng’s eyes on his back, of the slow minutes ticking away until Strife’s arrival.
“How many chances do you think this system gives us?” he murmured.
“One at least,” Tseng replied neutrally.
“One at most, you mean,” Rufus smiled. “Perhaps you should stand further back in case the wrong code causes an explosion.”
“Perhaps. But that would make it a little more difficult to launch a rescue attempt should an explosion result.”
“You idiot,” Rufus murmured, still smiling. His eyes drifted shut as his mind spun back through the years, seeking a common denominator that would not fade to the foreseeable future for his younger self...
...His fingers moved, the configurations half familiar and surprisingly nostalgic. A number sequence. He felt himself hit the last digit and pause, before he took a deep breath and moved to hit the enter key.
Eight numbers. A date.
Dark Nation’s birthday.
With a hum and a flash of green, the code clicked through.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the third layer kicked into action. There was a flash, and battle-honed reflexes made him twitch instinctively before he overrode them. Yellow light flooded over him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Tseng tense.
Sense materia. Nothing as simple as a DNA scan, then.
Yellow beams darted across him, the laser scanning from head to toe as he held his breath. If I die here, right on the doorstep of possible redemption, I believe I shall laugh all the way to hell...
Yellow melted into green. The doors clicked, and with a hiss, ground laboriously aside.
“Welcome back, Rufus Shinra,” an electronic voice intoned softly.
--
“Where is he?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Reno said, as Cloud clambered off Fenrir and headed towards him. “Not so fast. The Chief is busy.”
“Busy? He said he’d see me.” He was in no mood for games. His mind was in a turmoil, questions piling up. Zack had had something to do with Rufus. Zack had.... Zack...
Had they been friends?
And even more treacherous, quietly sounding in the back of his mind: Had they been more than friends?
Zack. Zack. It was almost pathetic, the way his life so inexorably swung back to Zack, even after all these years. He had saved the world, not once but twice, and still the past could haunt him, could affect him so badly...
They said that Jenova had mixed their memories, that it hadn’t just been trauma, and that would certainly explain the thoroughness of it all, the way he remembered things that he couldn’t possibly have remembered, the way his own memories had been so thoroughly suppressed.
That kept him up at nights, sometimes, wondering just where Zack ended and he began. If that made a difference. If it was important to separate the two.
...If what he felt for Aeris had been nothing more than spill-over from Zack’s memories.
“Call him,” Cloud said. “Tell him I’m here.”
“He’s busy,” Reno drawled, leaning against a wall. “Don’t think he’ll appreciate being disturbed. Just wait up a bit, will you?”
“What’s he busy with?” Cloud growled, not in the mood for Reno’s nonsense. He glanced suspiciously around the area, gazing up at the ruined Shinra tower. “What kind of dark secrets is he uncovering? If it’s anything that threatens the peace of the world again, I won’t let him go through with it!”
“Big words, Cloud,” Reno folded his arms across his chest and smirked.
The urge to smack that sardonic look off Reno’s face was growing. “You don’t believe I’ll go through with it?”
“Oh, I believe you.” And the smirk grew wider, not smaller. “I believe that you’re perfectly capable of slicing through all of us. I believe that you’re perfectly capable of busting on right in there and dicing up the Chief into tiny little pieces. And then, after that, when you’re standing over his bloodstained corpse, what then?”
Cloud narrowed his eyes.
Reno let the silence stretch for a pause, before shifting his weight to the other leg. “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you? Run around, wave a big sword, fix the world.” The smirk dropped from his face. “If only it were always that simple.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Cloud snapped. “Do you think I’m an idiot? But we do what we can. Other people do their part. Reeve... the WRO...”
“You trust Reeve?”
“Of course I do!”
“A double agent? A man who watched the plate fall and did nothing?”
“He didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t anything he could have done.”
“’xactly. Sometimes, people don’t have all the solutions. Sometimes, people don’t have all the power.” Reno jerked a thumb towards the entrance that Rufus had disappeared through earlier. “Well, I’m sick of beating around the freaking bush. It’s simple, Cloud. You’re a loose cannon. I’m a loose cannon... except when I’m being a hired gun. I don’t know what the hell the Chief is digging up this time, but I trust that it’s good. And if it isn’t, then I think that the right word in the right place is going to do a hell of a lot more than a sword thrust through the right place, if you catch my drift.”
“What if he turns out to be as insane as his old man?”
“What if he’s just human and making mistakes?” Reno leaned forward, and his tone was harsh. “Who the hell are you to decide who lives and who dies? Who died and made you god? Sephiroth doesn’t count, by the way.”
Who died...
Who died...
Zack. Zack was sent on a mission to eliminate one Vice President Rufus.
A mission which he executed, and failed...
Reno grinned: something sharp and feral. “You guys wanted a new world, didn’t you? Someplace free of Shinra, where life and death didn’t depend whether one guy got out of bed on the right side that morning?” There was a flash of silver as he twirled the EMR between his fingers. “Well, you got it. Laws and courts and due process and all that wonderful BS. Ain’t it wonderful? You touch the Prez, I drag you before Lady Justice. And boy, is she a bitch.”
Cloud knew he was staring, hearing the words that Reno wasn’t saying. He didn’t even have to lay a finger on Rufus Shinra. There were already murmurs, disgruntled voices from people who had lost friends, loved ones, homes, their city. People who didn’t blame Shinra for it. People who blamed... Avalanche.
If only it were always that simple.
“Ah.”
The voice made him jump, something in it that single syllable that burned straight into his nerves, made him curse and spin. White fabric moved in the wind as Rufus Shinra stood there, eyes going from him to Reno and back again.
“Just keeping the guests entertained, boss,” Reno said, waving.
“Thank you, Reno.” Rufus nodded sharply at him. A clear dismissal.
“Play nice, now,” Reno told Cloud, as he departed.
“Strife.” Rufus wasn’t smiling, but he did extend a hand. “It’s been a while.”
Cloud stared at the proffered hand for a long moment before he shook it. “I want to ask you something.”
--
“Ladies and gentlemen of the WRO, thank you for your attendance at this emergency directors’ meeting on such short notice.” Reeve shuffled through his notes, all hastily compiled. “I am certain that you must have all heard of the proclamations issued by Dio, manager of the Golden Saucer, by now. Proclamations stating that the Golden Saucer will move to finance the construction of a mako power generator, as the first step towards the adoption of mako power as the world’s global and primary power source again.” Rustle of papers as he searched through print outs.
“This is surely unacceptable. We have not battled so long and hard, conducted so much research and invested so much time and effort moving away from mako power, only to switch back to it once more. While the Golden Saucer is now an independent organisation, having parted ways with Shinra Company some time back, this is a matter of global concern. It behoves the WRO to intervene.”
“Mr Chairman.”
He glanced up. Several of the board members were exchanging concerned looks, and one of them was signalling for his attention. He nodded for her to proceed.
“We understand that the re-adoption of mako power as a primary source is a notion that is gaining increasing support from several factions, of which the Golden Saucer is only one voice.”
“The leading voice, I presume,” Reeve said.
“Perhaps, since they do have the capital to back their words up. Therefore, should we not consider whether this issue has merit before brushing it aside?”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Mr Chairman. This committee elected not to utilise mako power, even in the face of the energy crisis that is presently sweeping the globe. However, people are dying out there as the weather worsens. Even if long term mako usage is inadvisable, perhaps it is time to consider it as a temporary substitute. One reactor at the Golden Saucer... would power the entire town of Corel.”
“Apart from its incomparable efficiency, mako power is also a much cleaner source of power, as compared to coal,” another delegate said softly. “Moreover, coal and oil are also finite. The mines in the Corel region appear to be running out faster than we anticipated. What will we do when they are gone?”
“We will find alternative methods of energy production,” Reeve frowned, not entirely believing what he was hearing. Surely this was a settled issue. Surely the WEAPONs had settled it beyond the shadow of a doubt. “Using mako power kills the planet. We have seen that. We have seen the Planet itself strike back at us.“
“And we defeated it. We destroyed the Weapons. What more is there to fear? We used mako energy for years before those things appeared, and can we actually say that they appeared in response to our use of mako energy? Or was it Shinra Company’s relentless delving into North Crater? Or Sephiroth summoning them?”
“Regardless, as we now know, mako is really drawing from the Lifestream, which is drawing from the Planet’s lifeblood itself! Every drop of mako is killing the Planet-“
“While we allow people to die in the short term? We are not advocating using mako power forever until the Planet itself dies... but in the meantime, we have no other choice!”
“Yes, we do-“
“Where is President Shinra?”
There was a long pause, during which people exchanged glances, and Reeve tried to rally his arguments. Of all the things to be caught up over all of a sudden... “President Shinra was unable to attend,” Reeve said. “And unfortunately has no proxy. However, it is well known that he shares the same opinion of this Council that we should not, at any cost, revert to mako power.“
“As I recall, Tuesti, Shinra’s official position was that they would not revert back to mako power except in the event of a crisis. We are currently facing... just that. An energy crisis that is costing lives and billions of dollars in the economy-“
“A crisis, or an emergency, as defined by another world threatening event.”
“This is a world threatening event!” Slam of a fist against the table as Bernard, representative from Rocket Town region, surged to his feet. “Mr Chairman, President Rufus cited time and monetary concerns as major reasons for not reverting back to mako power. Dio of the Golden Saucer obviously has no such concerns, or has otherwise overcome them. Should we not grasp this opportunity? The threat to the Planet... is something that we can deal with in the long term, when we have the time for it. Come summer, perhaps. But in the meantime, if we want to rebuild this world, we cannot simply look at the long term and allow it to perish in the short term!”
There were nods from too many corners of the table now. Someone slipped out to make a phone call.
“Mr Chairman, we understand your concerns,” Sagan from the Icicle Area said. “And indeed, this Council decided that mako energy was definitely an avenue to be shunned. However, it seems then that we were overly optimistic about these alternative sources of energy that Shinra Company has so enthusiastically talked about. I do not wish to cast aspersion on Rufus Shinra, but it does seem that Shinra has promised more than it can deliver.”
Shinra never promised anything, Reeve thought, apprehension twisting in his gut. Rufus is too good a negotiator to give you a concession like that. “Perhaps we should get President Rufus in before we discuss Shinra Company’s alleged promises,” he said sharply. “As I recall, the Company made no such representations to the Council.”
“Nevertheless. The point still stands - that at the time this Council decided to go forward with alternative energy sources, we could not anticipate the delays and problems in the switchover, or the magnitude of the problem that would arise. Perhaps it is time to review our approach.”
Murmurs swelled, washing across the table. Catching people up in the current, sweeping them away. It was something that he would have to deal with, and deal with now, something he had to stop before it grew out of control. They didn’t understand. They hadn’t been there. They just... didn’t understand.
“The basis for that decision was the betterment of the Planet!” Reeve shouted, trying to make his voice cut through the din. “If we abandon that, what kind of slippery slope are we going to find ourselves on? One mako reactor today, the eight in Midgar tomorrow, the rest the next day... until we find ourselves back in the same predicament that we were in!”
“Is that such a predicament?” Bernard asked. “There is no Sephiroth this time. No Meteor. It was mako energy that allowed us to defeat the Weapons, if you don’t recall. There’s-“
“There’s a resource we can’t utilise!” Frascal, secretary of the WRO, rallied to Reeve’s aid. “Unlike coal or oil, when mako runs out, all life perishes!”
“Mako isn’t exactly a non-renewable resource,” someone said. “It’s a resource that is slower to renew than others. The theory is not exactly certain at the moment. Bugenhagen’s notes were unfortunately incomplete. It seems likely that if we limited our use to a fraction of our previous levels, that we might be able to strike the balance between consumption and renewal.”
“We don’t know that,” Reeve said. “And it seems unwise to turn our own Planet into a lab rat. As we understand it, there is only a finite amount of Lifestream, and combusting it into heat energy is destroying it. As far as we know, the Planet does not actually produce more Lifestream over time, so it does, very much, classify as a non-renewable resource.”
They were still respectful enough to allow him to finish saying whatever he wanted to say, but he could see that something had been started that he would be hard-pressed to stop. Dio’s strong stance was oh, so alluring, so attractive - don’t worry, just do it, think about the short term and the all-important bottom-line and discount the future...
And while they bickered, Dio was going to go ahead and deliver. And with electricity flowing back into homes, with mako powered cars and vehicles working again, how could people resist the allure of it? How could they convince people to drop a good thing once again? The horror of the Weapons, the horror of the events two, three years ago, had faded. Short of another crisis, there seemed to be no arguments powerful enough to sway the minds of those who were bearing the brunt of the shortage.
And I feel for them. I really do. But...
He bit his lip as the arguments flew back and forth across the table. The same things, over and over again. The future verse the present. Ideals verses practicality. The intangible verses the tangible. Accusations of not being humane, accusations of being out of touch with reality, accusations of being too cowardly. No way to resolve it, unless one side backed down. No way to reconcile it, unless one side gave up.
He’d always thought that the WRO would go down to some external force. He’d never expect to see them tear themselves up from the inside.
--
“So,” Rufus said. “What did you wish to see me about?”
“You knew Zack,” Cloud said without preamble. They couldn’t very well wander through the wreckage, not with Midgar this unstable, and he had waved off Rufus’ suggestion of moving to a place more conducive for conversation.
“I did.”
“He tried to kill you. He gave you that scar.” Cloud’s eyes flicked to the bandage at Rufus’ throat.
“He did.” The blue gaze was utterly unreadable.
“On both counts.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re still alive.”
“Yes.”
“Rufus!”
Rufus blinked at the frustration in his tone, the first crack in the polite but impassive façade he had been wearing ever since they had met.
“This isn’t a game,” Cloud growled. “Tell me what happened.”
“And I should tell you because...?” Rufus was leaning against a pillar, shoulder and head resting against it. Arms folded across his chest, bangs falling into his eyes.
“Because it concerns me.”
“It concerned Zack, Strife. Zack and myself. And, to a lesser extent, my father. Nothing else.”
“I remember,” Cloud said softly. “I remember him attacking you. I don’t remember what happened after that.”
“I survived.”
“Obviously!”
“Are the details really so important?” Rufus asked.
“Did he not kill you for a reason? Or did someone save you? What happened to him after that? They couldn’t have taken to him failing a mission so lightly... why didn’t he finish the job later? Damnit, Rufus, answer me!”
Rufus closed his eyes and exhaled softly. “Forgive me for seeming selfish, Strife, but that really is none of your business.”
“Yes it is. I... I carry Zack’s memories in me. I’m...” He didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t know how to voice just how important it was to him. It was as if he was Zack, crippled by amnesia, and it was important, of course it was, to retrieve-
“But you are not Zack,” Rufus said, opening his eyes again. “Is that so hard to come to terms with? You are your own person. For better or worse.”
“I know that.” He scowled. Of course he did. If he was Zack, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Better.
Something hardened in Rufus’ gaze, placid blue going to sapphire. “And is the past that important to you?”
“It’s my past-“
“It’s Zack’s past.”
“Still!” Like having a burning itch that he just couldn’t scratch, a gap that needed to be filled, a riddle that tormented his mind...
“Why is it so important to you?” Rufus demanded, pushing himself away from the pillar, suddenly angry. “Why is the damn past so important to you, and the future not at all?”
“It’s nothing you would understand-“
“No,” Rufus stared at him. “No, I don’t understand. I don’t know how you can be so caught up pursuing memories - and someone else’s memories, at that - and not care a whit about the disaster that the world is headed into.”
“I do care! I’ve done my part! What more is there to be done? Haven’t I done enough? Can’t I-“
“What more is there to be done?”
He had never seen Rufus so angry. Not up on that rooftop. Not in all their admittedly limited dealings. Not...
“The world needs rebuilding,” Rufus said. “There are no parts. There are no assigned roles. We do all that we can, and then we do some more. We do everything that fate or destiny or the Planet demands of us, and then we go on and find what other ways we can help.”
“Easy for you to say,” Cloud snapped. “You have the resources. You have the training. I don’t even know what’s going on!”
“Because you tried your best and couldn’t find out, or because you refused to get involved?”
“Because there are other people who are better suited to fill those roles! I’d just be getting in the way!”
“That night.” Rufus turned sharply away, addressing the ruins of the Shinra tower. “Ten years ago. Zack’s sword nearly took my life. Do you know who saved me?”
A rhetorical question. Cloud answered it with silence.
“Zack himself did. He pulled the blow, grabbed my restore materia and patched the wound before I could bleed to death. And after that, he went home to whatever fate awaited him for failing that mission.”
He hadn’t expected that. It didn’t make sense. “Why?” Cloud whispered.
“With one hand we take, with one hand we give away. We are not merely destroyers. We can also be builders.”
“I... don’t understand.”
Rufus glanced back to him, and the anger had faded. “You go and think about it. You carry his memories, after all.”
“I can’t just call them to mind!”
“We can’t see what we can’t understand.” A pause, and the shrill of a PHS split the air. Rufus slapped a hand over the unit strapped to his belt, but didn’t pick it up. Let it ring once, twice, before he sighed and unclipped it. “Try nurturing life instead of taking it, Cloud,” he said, sounding tired. “You might find it fits you better.”
“What do you know?” Cloud asked.
The President shot him a bitter smile, flipping open the PHS. “Rufus Shinra.”
“You still owe me an explanation,” Cloud snapped. Rufus glanced over at him, frowned and held up a hand for silence.
“Is it totally out of control?” he asked. Paused, and the frown grew deeper. “Understood. Yes. Yes. I will. Keep them talking.” Another pause. “I don’t care how,” he said. “Make it happen.” And snapped the PHS shut with a vicious swipe. Cloud saw him draw a deep breath, before glancing up at him.
“I apologise for cutting this conversation short,” Rufus said. “But it is imperative that I return to Junon immediately. There is pandemonium in the WRO Council.” He paused, and in distance, Cloud saw Reno bringing the Shinra helicopter towards them.
Rufus ran a hand across his eyes and sighed again. “Chairman Reeve is presently facing a vote of no confidence.”
To be continued.
Rating PG-13 (Safe for work) - Status: In progress - Chapter 8/? - Warnings: None
Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Rude/Reno
Fic summary: Post-AC, barreling down the road to the reconstruction ofShinra Company. A Hero, A President, a new world, and the politics that draw them all into a tangled web beyond all ability to forecast.
Chapter Summary: In which Cloud and Rufus talk, and Reeve has a bad day to end all bad days. Oh, and the politics eat people alive.
A/N: Time for that monthly update of that terribly long fic! Chapter 8, at 4.4k words, brings us past the 25,000 word mark for Empire, which really isn't half bad... and the end is still some ways off. Woo.
VIII
The world turns. With it, empires rise and fall. Things that were once known are forgotten. Things that were once forgotten are brought again to light. There are secrets here, buried within the deeps of a fallen citadel. Here lives were made and destroyed. This was the seat of the world, and the power to rule over it. And in this place, once upon a time, the means to destroy the world was created.
Perhaps the means to rebuild it lies within its walls as well.
Rufus pushed his way through the doors that the Turks had forced open, Tseng a faithful shadow just a step behind. He nodded at Reno, who waved back a casual acknowledgement and hung back, guarding the entrance and keeping a watch for Strife.
“It was an eternity ago that I was last here,” Rufus murmured, glancing around. No dust choked these corridors, not when they had been sealed to the world so securely that even Meteor’s fall had not penetrated these depths. The lights had failed, of course, but the LED torch that Tseng bore cut a wide swath through the darkness.
“This way, sir,” Tseng said, indicating a corridor.
“One hopes that the old man did not pull my access codes,” Rufus said, as he made his way with Tseng through the bowels of the building. It was not part of the main tower - it was an isolated research centre a little way away, buried underground, housing the darkest secrets of the old regime. Weapons of varying levels of legality. The JENOVA project, at one point. Beginnings and failed attempts at the SOLDIER project. Other, less successful experiments that never saw the light of day.
Shinra Company had never been in the habit of destroying things. It had been his father’s policy to horde all these failed attempts and little pieces of knowledge. There was a database here, he recalled, a hazy memory from the very early years of his childhood. They had brought him down here - him, but not his mother - brought him down these corridors, which, back then had been brightly lit, past corridors filled with locked doors.
Don’t touch anything unless we tell you to, do you hear me?
Yes, father.
He had wondered for years after that whether he had dreamt up the entire thing, but these corridors were more than passingly familiar. He paused for a moment beside a door marked with of all things, a stylized chocobo, and glanced inquiring at Tseng.
The Turk’s lips quirked in a rare smile. “Attempts to genetically engineer the mythical Golden Chocobo,” he said.
“That must have been a dismal failure,” Rufus said.
“I expect so.”
“A pity.” He moved off again.
It was with no little anticipation that he paused before the doors marked ‘Data Center’, looming tall and dark at the end of the hallway. Adrenaline was tingling in his fingertips, the sensation of being poised on the edge of some great discovery or some great breakthrough; a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
The moment of truth.
The system was pegged to something specific, he recalled, as Tseng pushed the doors open. Perhaps it was DNA, or a retinal scan, or perhaps… even something as basic as a fingerprint. Very likely, it hadn’t just been a code or a key, digital or physical - they would have no need of bringing him down here otherwise. Something that wouldn’t change, or wouldn’t change too much over the course of time.
His access card cut smoothly through the first line of security. The second was a code, and he paused, brow furrowed. If he had programmed it, it would have been years ago. He would have set something that he would remember, even given the passage of time. Something that he would remember that he would remember. Nothing arbitrary, then. His fingers hovered over the keypad, as familiar passwords flashed through his mind. He browsed through them, rejecting each in turn. Too recent, too unlikely, too recent...
He was aware of Tseng’s eyes on his back, of the slow minutes ticking away until Strife’s arrival.
“How many chances do you think this system gives us?” he murmured.
“One at least,” Tseng replied neutrally.
“One at most, you mean,” Rufus smiled. “Perhaps you should stand further back in case the wrong code causes an explosion.”
“Perhaps. But that would make it a little more difficult to launch a rescue attempt should an explosion result.”
“You idiot,” Rufus murmured, still smiling. His eyes drifted shut as his mind spun back through the years, seeking a common denominator that would not fade to the foreseeable future for his younger self...
...His fingers moved, the configurations half familiar and surprisingly nostalgic. A number sequence. He felt himself hit the last digit and pause, before he took a deep breath and moved to hit the enter key.
Eight numbers. A date.
Dark Nation’s birthday.
With a hum and a flash of green, the code clicked through.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the third layer kicked into action. There was a flash, and battle-honed reflexes made him twitch instinctively before he overrode them. Yellow light flooded over him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Tseng tense.
Sense materia. Nothing as simple as a DNA scan, then.
Yellow beams darted across him, the laser scanning from head to toe as he held his breath. If I die here, right on the doorstep of possible redemption, I believe I shall laugh all the way to hell...
Yellow melted into green. The doors clicked, and with a hiss, ground laboriously aside.
“Welcome back, Rufus Shinra,” an electronic voice intoned softly.
--
“Where is he?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Reno said, as Cloud clambered off Fenrir and headed towards him. “Not so fast. The Chief is busy.”
“Busy? He said he’d see me.” He was in no mood for games. His mind was in a turmoil, questions piling up. Zack had had something to do with Rufus. Zack had.... Zack...
Had they been friends?
And even more treacherous, quietly sounding in the back of his mind: Had they been more than friends?
Zack. Zack. It was almost pathetic, the way his life so inexorably swung back to Zack, even after all these years. He had saved the world, not once but twice, and still the past could haunt him, could affect him so badly...
They said that Jenova had mixed their memories, that it hadn’t just been trauma, and that would certainly explain the thoroughness of it all, the way he remembered things that he couldn’t possibly have remembered, the way his own memories had been so thoroughly suppressed.
That kept him up at nights, sometimes, wondering just where Zack ended and he began. If that made a difference. If it was important to separate the two.
...If what he felt for Aeris had been nothing more than spill-over from Zack’s memories.
“Call him,” Cloud said. “Tell him I’m here.”
“He’s busy,” Reno drawled, leaning against a wall. “Don’t think he’ll appreciate being disturbed. Just wait up a bit, will you?”
“What’s he busy with?” Cloud growled, not in the mood for Reno’s nonsense. He glanced suspiciously around the area, gazing up at the ruined Shinra tower. “What kind of dark secrets is he uncovering? If it’s anything that threatens the peace of the world again, I won’t let him go through with it!”
“Big words, Cloud,” Reno folded his arms across his chest and smirked.
The urge to smack that sardonic look off Reno’s face was growing. “You don’t believe I’ll go through with it?”
“Oh, I believe you.” And the smirk grew wider, not smaller. “I believe that you’re perfectly capable of slicing through all of us. I believe that you’re perfectly capable of busting on right in there and dicing up the Chief into tiny little pieces. And then, after that, when you’re standing over his bloodstained corpse, what then?”
Cloud narrowed his eyes.
Reno let the silence stretch for a pause, before shifting his weight to the other leg. “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you? Run around, wave a big sword, fix the world.” The smirk dropped from his face. “If only it were always that simple.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Cloud snapped. “Do you think I’m an idiot? But we do what we can. Other people do their part. Reeve... the WRO...”
“You trust Reeve?”
“Of course I do!”
“A double agent? A man who watched the plate fall and did nothing?”
“He didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t anything he could have done.”
“’xactly. Sometimes, people don’t have all the solutions. Sometimes, people don’t have all the power.” Reno jerked a thumb towards the entrance that Rufus had disappeared through earlier. “Well, I’m sick of beating around the freaking bush. It’s simple, Cloud. You’re a loose cannon. I’m a loose cannon... except when I’m being a hired gun. I don’t know what the hell the Chief is digging up this time, but I trust that it’s good. And if it isn’t, then I think that the right word in the right place is going to do a hell of a lot more than a sword thrust through the right place, if you catch my drift.”
“What if he turns out to be as insane as his old man?”
“What if he’s just human and making mistakes?” Reno leaned forward, and his tone was harsh. “Who the hell are you to decide who lives and who dies? Who died and made you god? Sephiroth doesn’t count, by the way.”
Who died...
Who died...
Zack. Zack was sent on a mission to eliminate one Vice President Rufus.
A mission which he executed, and failed...
Reno grinned: something sharp and feral. “You guys wanted a new world, didn’t you? Someplace free of Shinra, where life and death didn’t depend whether one guy got out of bed on the right side that morning?” There was a flash of silver as he twirled the EMR between his fingers. “Well, you got it. Laws and courts and due process and all that wonderful BS. Ain’t it wonderful? You touch the Prez, I drag you before Lady Justice. And boy, is she a bitch.”
Cloud knew he was staring, hearing the words that Reno wasn’t saying. He didn’t even have to lay a finger on Rufus Shinra. There were already murmurs, disgruntled voices from people who had lost friends, loved ones, homes, their city. People who didn’t blame Shinra for it. People who blamed... Avalanche.
If only it were always that simple.
“Ah.”
The voice made him jump, something in it that single syllable that burned straight into his nerves, made him curse and spin. White fabric moved in the wind as Rufus Shinra stood there, eyes going from him to Reno and back again.
“Just keeping the guests entertained, boss,” Reno said, waving.
“Thank you, Reno.” Rufus nodded sharply at him. A clear dismissal.
“Play nice, now,” Reno told Cloud, as he departed.
“Strife.” Rufus wasn’t smiling, but he did extend a hand. “It’s been a while.”
Cloud stared at the proffered hand for a long moment before he shook it. “I want to ask you something.”
--
“Ladies and gentlemen of the WRO, thank you for your attendance at this emergency directors’ meeting on such short notice.” Reeve shuffled through his notes, all hastily compiled. “I am certain that you must have all heard of the proclamations issued by Dio, manager of the Golden Saucer, by now. Proclamations stating that the Golden Saucer will move to finance the construction of a mako power generator, as the first step towards the adoption of mako power as the world’s global and primary power source again.” Rustle of papers as he searched through print outs.
“This is surely unacceptable. We have not battled so long and hard, conducted so much research and invested so much time and effort moving away from mako power, only to switch back to it once more. While the Golden Saucer is now an independent organisation, having parted ways with Shinra Company some time back, this is a matter of global concern. It behoves the WRO to intervene.”
“Mr Chairman.”
He glanced up. Several of the board members were exchanging concerned looks, and one of them was signalling for his attention. He nodded for her to proceed.
“We understand that the re-adoption of mako power as a primary source is a notion that is gaining increasing support from several factions, of which the Golden Saucer is only one voice.”
“The leading voice, I presume,” Reeve said.
“Perhaps, since they do have the capital to back their words up. Therefore, should we not consider whether this issue has merit before brushing it aside?”
He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“Mr Chairman. This committee elected not to utilise mako power, even in the face of the energy crisis that is presently sweeping the globe. However, people are dying out there as the weather worsens. Even if long term mako usage is inadvisable, perhaps it is time to consider it as a temporary substitute. One reactor at the Golden Saucer... would power the entire town of Corel.”
“Apart from its incomparable efficiency, mako power is also a much cleaner source of power, as compared to coal,” another delegate said softly. “Moreover, coal and oil are also finite. The mines in the Corel region appear to be running out faster than we anticipated. What will we do when they are gone?”
“We will find alternative methods of energy production,” Reeve frowned, not entirely believing what he was hearing. Surely this was a settled issue. Surely the WEAPONs had settled it beyond the shadow of a doubt. “Using mako power kills the planet. We have seen that. We have seen the Planet itself strike back at us.“
“And we defeated it. We destroyed the Weapons. What more is there to fear? We used mako energy for years before those things appeared, and can we actually say that they appeared in response to our use of mako energy? Or was it Shinra Company’s relentless delving into North Crater? Or Sephiroth summoning them?”
“Regardless, as we now know, mako is really drawing from the Lifestream, which is drawing from the Planet’s lifeblood itself! Every drop of mako is killing the Planet-“
“While we allow people to die in the short term? We are not advocating using mako power forever until the Planet itself dies... but in the meantime, we have no other choice!”
“Yes, we do-“
“Where is President Shinra?”
There was a long pause, during which people exchanged glances, and Reeve tried to rally his arguments. Of all the things to be caught up over all of a sudden... “President Shinra was unable to attend,” Reeve said. “And unfortunately has no proxy. However, it is well known that he shares the same opinion of this Council that we should not, at any cost, revert to mako power.“
“As I recall, Tuesti, Shinra’s official position was that they would not revert back to mako power except in the event of a crisis. We are currently facing... just that. An energy crisis that is costing lives and billions of dollars in the economy-“
“A crisis, or an emergency, as defined by another world threatening event.”
“This is a world threatening event!” Slam of a fist against the table as Bernard, representative from Rocket Town region, surged to his feet. “Mr Chairman, President Rufus cited time and monetary concerns as major reasons for not reverting back to mako power. Dio of the Golden Saucer obviously has no such concerns, or has otherwise overcome them. Should we not grasp this opportunity? The threat to the Planet... is something that we can deal with in the long term, when we have the time for it. Come summer, perhaps. But in the meantime, if we want to rebuild this world, we cannot simply look at the long term and allow it to perish in the short term!”
There were nods from too many corners of the table now. Someone slipped out to make a phone call.
“Mr Chairman, we understand your concerns,” Sagan from the Icicle Area said. “And indeed, this Council decided that mako energy was definitely an avenue to be shunned. However, it seems then that we were overly optimistic about these alternative sources of energy that Shinra Company has so enthusiastically talked about. I do not wish to cast aspersion on Rufus Shinra, but it does seem that Shinra has promised more than it can deliver.”
Shinra never promised anything, Reeve thought, apprehension twisting in his gut. Rufus is too good a negotiator to give you a concession like that. “Perhaps we should get President Rufus in before we discuss Shinra Company’s alleged promises,” he said sharply. “As I recall, the Company made no such representations to the Council.”
“Nevertheless. The point still stands - that at the time this Council decided to go forward with alternative energy sources, we could not anticipate the delays and problems in the switchover, or the magnitude of the problem that would arise. Perhaps it is time to review our approach.”
Murmurs swelled, washing across the table. Catching people up in the current, sweeping them away. It was something that he would have to deal with, and deal with now, something he had to stop before it grew out of control. They didn’t understand. They hadn’t been there. They just... didn’t understand.
“The basis for that decision was the betterment of the Planet!” Reeve shouted, trying to make his voice cut through the din. “If we abandon that, what kind of slippery slope are we going to find ourselves on? One mako reactor today, the eight in Midgar tomorrow, the rest the next day... until we find ourselves back in the same predicament that we were in!”
“Is that such a predicament?” Bernard asked. “There is no Sephiroth this time. No Meteor. It was mako energy that allowed us to defeat the Weapons, if you don’t recall. There’s-“
“There’s a resource we can’t utilise!” Frascal, secretary of the WRO, rallied to Reeve’s aid. “Unlike coal or oil, when mako runs out, all life perishes!”
“Mako isn’t exactly a non-renewable resource,” someone said. “It’s a resource that is slower to renew than others. The theory is not exactly certain at the moment. Bugenhagen’s notes were unfortunately incomplete. It seems likely that if we limited our use to a fraction of our previous levels, that we might be able to strike the balance between consumption and renewal.”
“We don’t know that,” Reeve said. “And it seems unwise to turn our own Planet into a lab rat. As we understand it, there is only a finite amount of Lifestream, and combusting it into heat energy is destroying it. As far as we know, the Planet does not actually produce more Lifestream over time, so it does, very much, classify as a non-renewable resource.”
They were still respectful enough to allow him to finish saying whatever he wanted to say, but he could see that something had been started that he would be hard-pressed to stop. Dio’s strong stance was oh, so alluring, so attractive - don’t worry, just do it, think about the short term and the all-important bottom-line and discount the future...
And while they bickered, Dio was going to go ahead and deliver. And with electricity flowing back into homes, with mako powered cars and vehicles working again, how could people resist the allure of it? How could they convince people to drop a good thing once again? The horror of the Weapons, the horror of the events two, three years ago, had faded. Short of another crisis, there seemed to be no arguments powerful enough to sway the minds of those who were bearing the brunt of the shortage.
And I feel for them. I really do. But...
He bit his lip as the arguments flew back and forth across the table. The same things, over and over again. The future verse the present. Ideals verses practicality. The intangible verses the tangible. Accusations of not being humane, accusations of being out of touch with reality, accusations of being too cowardly. No way to resolve it, unless one side backed down. No way to reconcile it, unless one side gave up.
He’d always thought that the WRO would go down to some external force. He’d never expect to see them tear themselves up from the inside.
--
“So,” Rufus said. “What did you wish to see me about?”
“You knew Zack,” Cloud said without preamble. They couldn’t very well wander through the wreckage, not with Midgar this unstable, and he had waved off Rufus’ suggestion of moving to a place more conducive for conversation.
“I did.”
“He tried to kill you. He gave you that scar.” Cloud’s eyes flicked to the bandage at Rufus’ throat.
“He did.” The blue gaze was utterly unreadable.
“On both counts.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re still alive.”
“Yes.”
“Rufus!”
Rufus blinked at the frustration in his tone, the first crack in the polite but impassive façade he had been wearing ever since they had met.
“This isn’t a game,” Cloud growled. “Tell me what happened.”
“And I should tell you because...?” Rufus was leaning against a pillar, shoulder and head resting against it. Arms folded across his chest, bangs falling into his eyes.
“Because it concerns me.”
“It concerned Zack, Strife. Zack and myself. And, to a lesser extent, my father. Nothing else.”
“I remember,” Cloud said softly. “I remember him attacking you. I don’t remember what happened after that.”
“I survived.”
“Obviously!”
“Are the details really so important?” Rufus asked.
“Did he not kill you for a reason? Or did someone save you? What happened to him after that? They couldn’t have taken to him failing a mission so lightly... why didn’t he finish the job later? Damnit, Rufus, answer me!”
Rufus closed his eyes and exhaled softly. “Forgive me for seeming selfish, Strife, but that really is none of your business.”
“Yes it is. I... I carry Zack’s memories in me. I’m...” He didn’t know how to say it. Didn’t know how to voice just how important it was to him. It was as if he was Zack, crippled by amnesia, and it was important, of course it was, to retrieve-
“But you are not Zack,” Rufus said, opening his eyes again. “Is that so hard to come to terms with? You are your own person. For better or worse.”
“I know that.” He scowled. Of course he did. If he was Zack, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Better.
Something hardened in Rufus’ gaze, placid blue going to sapphire. “And is the past that important to you?”
“It’s my past-“
“It’s Zack’s past.”
“Still!” Like having a burning itch that he just couldn’t scratch, a gap that needed to be filled, a riddle that tormented his mind...
“Why is it so important to you?” Rufus demanded, pushing himself away from the pillar, suddenly angry. “Why is the damn past so important to you, and the future not at all?”
“It’s nothing you would understand-“
“No,” Rufus stared at him. “No, I don’t understand. I don’t know how you can be so caught up pursuing memories - and someone else’s memories, at that - and not care a whit about the disaster that the world is headed into.”
“I do care! I’ve done my part! What more is there to be done? Haven’t I done enough? Can’t I-“
“What more is there to be done?”
He had never seen Rufus so angry. Not up on that rooftop. Not in all their admittedly limited dealings. Not...
“The world needs rebuilding,” Rufus said. “There are no parts. There are no assigned roles. We do all that we can, and then we do some more. We do everything that fate or destiny or the Planet demands of us, and then we go on and find what other ways we can help.”
“Easy for you to say,” Cloud snapped. “You have the resources. You have the training. I don’t even know what’s going on!”
“Because you tried your best and couldn’t find out, or because you refused to get involved?”
“Because there are other people who are better suited to fill those roles! I’d just be getting in the way!”
“That night.” Rufus turned sharply away, addressing the ruins of the Shinra tower. “Ten years ago. Zack’s sword nearly took my life. Do you know who saved me?”
A rhetorical question. Cloud answered it with silence.
“Zack himself did. He pulled the blow, grabbed my restore materia and patched the wound before I could bleed to death. And after that, he went home to whatever fate awaited him for failing that mission.”
He hadn’t expected that. It didn’t make sense. “Why?” Cloud whispered.
“With one hand we take, with one hand we give away. We are not merely destroyers. We can also be builders.”
“I... don’t understand.”
Rufus glanced back to him, and the anger had faded. “You go and think about it. You carry his memories, after all.”
“I can’t just call them to mind!”
“We can’t see what we can’t understand.” A pause, and the shrill of a PHS split the air. Rufus slapped a hand over the unit strapped to his belt, but didn’t pick it up. Let it ring once, twice, before he sighed and unclipped it. “Try nurturing life instead of taking it, Cloud,” he said, sounding tired. “You might find it fits you better.”
“What do you know?” Cloud asked.
The President shot him a bitter smile, flipping open the PHS. “Rufus Shinra.”
“You still owe me an explanation,” Cloud snapped. Rufus glanced over at him, frowned and held up a hand for silence.
“Is it totally out of control?” he asked. Paused, and the frown grew deeper. “Understood. Yes. Yes. I will. Keep them talking.” Another pause. “I don’t care how,” he said. “Make it happen.” And snapped the PHS shut with a vicious swipe. Cloud saw him draw a deep breath, before glancing up at him.
“I apologise for cutting this conversation short,” Rufus said. “But it is imperative that I return to Junon immediately. There is pandemonium in the WRO Council.” He paused, and in distance, Cloud saw Reno bringing the Shinra helicopter towards them.
Rufus ran a hand across his eyes and sighed again. “Chairman Reeve is presently facing a vote of no confidence.”
To be continued.