Starlit Ruins Page 8

Unlike Laray, Conroy turned out to be a softly spoken, smart sounding fellow, proprietor of a shop named Conroy's Cybernetics. His shop was unorganized, unkempt, and distinctly disturbing. In spite of her familiarity with his technological medium, she found the sight of disembodied mechanical limbs quite unsettling.

  Thank Coake, she thought, he's not into Bio-System prosthesis. Ick.

  “So the great and highly sought Sliver is Makoto Kino!” Conroy remarked, sounding genuinely amazed. He was a short, thin man, who always looked as though he was thinking something terribly amusing. His strict crew cut of hair left little of the tan colored shag atop his skull, seeming to make a point of the impish features upon his face. It was his apparent knowledge of the situation that brushed aside his self-imposed image of the isolated doctor stereotype.

  “Sought… What do you mean?” Makoto asked, eying the fellow closely, wrinkling her nose slightly when she detected the undeniable odor of oil and blood.

  “Oh yes,” he replied with a half grin, clearly aware of her response to him. “You, my dear, have a very sizable price on your head. Something close to thirty-kilocredits I believe. Not to mention that at the moment, there are more than a dozen troops seeking you within the confines of New Quebec's walls.”

  Makoto stared at him, trying to glean some indication of honesty or deception beyond his augmented monovision sight.

  “How do you know that?” she demanded angrily.

  Han put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He's got his methods, babe… trust me.”

  For a moment she could not be sure. He seemed sincere, and Hanlan trusted him. She sighed. “I don't get it. Is there some kind of organization behind all of this?”

  “All of what?” Conroy asked, looking curious.

  “Don't play stupid with me,” Makoto snarled, striding with heated deliberation towards the man. “There's no way Han could have just turned up to save me the way he did.”

  “Why not?” The wisp of a fellow did not seem to be intimidated by her harsh demeanor. Then, as he spoke, his voice assumed a darker, more serious tone. “Listen Makoto. Listen carefully. If you want any information at all, you are going to have to be more specific. I deny nothing; you are merely not handing me the details I require.”

  Somehow, she felt, the conversation had resorted to a game, or rather, a form of verbal combat. To win, she had only to… to what? What was it he was playing at? Then it occurred to her. To win, she merely had to answer her own question. To solve the object of twenty questions. Supply points to be denied or affirmed, and it would become clear. Whatever it was. She fought an urge to tell him to take a seat on her vibro claws and go for an unhealthy spin.

  “Like what? Like our escape, for starters. Tell me what you know, and not what you've heard.”

  He half smiled, as if impressed. “Over a cup of coffee, perhaps?”

  Han grunted, confused. “Uh, Con, what are you doin'?”

  The blond haired man allowed as self empowered grin to alter his expression. “You wanted help Han old friend… You've just found it. Your dear love and I, not excluding yourself, must talk, before we proceed any further.”

  Han scratched his head.

  “It's fine. You've done well,” Makoto offered, as Conroy led them deeper into the building.

  It was cold; Conroy did not seem overly concerned about heating. As a cybernetics doctor, who knew how many implants he had within his thin shell of a figure? Light seemed to be held at a lower priority as well, a single sixty watt bulb supplying for their conversation around a circular table of what might have been sealed wood, some lightweight alloy, or plastic. She could not be sure. Nor could she care less.

  “I can't trust just anyone, you know,” he explained after taking a brief sip of his steaming coffee. “Not even you, Han.”

  “Why the frickin' heck not?” the rouge demanded. “Me and you go back… way back.”

  “Look at us now, though. You're the musclehead, I'm the veritable cyber-freak.” His expression seemed appropriate; a calm, cool one which might very well have set in stone at any moment. The vague bemusement, however, was gone. Makoto snickered at his directness.

  “Yeah, so?” Han retorted, not quite comprehending.

  “Remember when we were approached by the Shi-Con underground market?”

  Han nodded deftly. “Yeah. I wanted…” his voice fell.

  “You wanted to be the big knight defending the damsel from the dragon - or in this case - society's counterpart; the media. Not to mention the girls that went along with it.” Conroy punctuated his sentence with a smirk. “As a result, only I accepted what they presented to me. It's very difficult to accept the Coalition's knowledge stifling ideals.” He took a breath. “Simply put, the difference is this; even Shi-Con doesn't trust you with every ingredient boiling in their stewing pot of a company. As an employee, even of the elite sort, they share little more with me, my friend.”

  “I guess so.” He breathed in the vagrant flavour wafting from the cup sanctioned in both hands before taking a short sip. “You're not gonna to dump out on me, are you?” An expression of what might be faint concern lighted Han's face.

  “Regarding anything else; certainly not.” Makoto paused before letting her pre-warmed questions loose upon this new fellow.

  “So Han wasn't sent to rescue me?”

  “Why not ask me that, babe…?”

  “Um, sorry…” she glanced at him apologetically.

  “Hey it's cool,” he replied with a warming smile. “Y'see, I wasn't really looking for you… I was looking for any of the… uh, Sailor Soldiers. I still think that's frickin' strange name. Anyway, I figured that she - uh, well, you, as it turned out - might've gone underground, like I would. I mean, it's not safe topside - not like that, anyway.”

  “So it was an accident.”

  “Kinda,” he said sheepishly. “I heard lotsa noise, and figured maybe one of you'd escaped from Neo Tech. See, I knew it was jus' one of you. But, didn't know which.”

  Makoto gave Han an acknowledging nod, and turned again to face Conroy.

  “What is Shi-Con? Why are they interested in the Bishojo Sailor Senshi?”

  “The Pretty Sailor Soldiers? For many reasons, few of which have been disclosed to me. The first of which is the uniqueness of your power. Are you sure you don't want a cup?”

  “No, thank you,” she negated softly. Her eyes then narrowed. “What do they want, to dissect us?”

  “Our first objective is to return you home. Unfortunately, the task becomes more elaborate as we speak, and largely because we have so little information as to your individual whereabouts. As a result, the risk of exposing ourselves presents even greater complications.”

  Makoto considered her words for a moment. “ 'Ourselves.' Who is that? What do they want, then?”

  “Sorry, can't say. It's too soon, even for me. I am afraid they have protected this information because they fear a misstep on my part. You understand.”

  She pursed her lips, giving his words some thought, then nodded. “I guess. What do you know about my friends?”

  “That's the most direct question you've asked since we met,” he smiled. “Your speculation is correct, and the rumors are indeed true. The Coalition State of Lone Star has Ami Mizuno at this point. Rei Hino is apparently training as a Fire Warlock in the Magic Zone. We have yet to locate Mina Aino, and Usagi Tsukino.”

  “I suppose you've got people watching them.”

  He nodded. “Or at least, we had. Our operative failed to bring Ami to us before a pair of mercenaries got a hold of the girl. Apparently this was shortly after your escape from Atlantis. Certainly a remarkable feat in its own right.”

  It would be a lie to say Makoto was surprised by the lack of emotion in Conroy's voice. He was working for an outside force towards an objective that only mattered to him for certain reasons, none of them emotional, unlike herself.

  “So what now? What have you done about Ami's abduction?”

  �
�Our undercover agent, Carl Silver has undertaken the task of her safety. He currently poses as a geneticist specializing in the mutant properties of humans, in the Lone Star facilities. As such, he is well trusted by our opponents, and will not come under any suspicion.”

  “How can you be sure?” Makoto asked pointedly.

  “He will not. To save yourself time, I would accept that as fact. Unless of course you are not interested in the lives of the other 'senshi,' as you call them.” Conroy's voice became hard, almost cold.

  Makoto immediately reached the conclusion that “Carl Silver” was a supernatural being of some sort. A mage, at the very least. A very powerful one, to remain undetected by the CS as long as Conroy's voice seemed to imply. His condescension irritated her.

  “Don't play games with me dammit,” Makoto half-snapped. “I'm not unfamiliar with supernatural creatures. I have many friends among D-Bees, including dragons.”

  Conroy arched an eyebrow. “Then you are more resourceful than I first deemed you.”

  Makoto was tiring of the vocal chess.

  “Before Han and I go, I want you to answer my first question.”

  “You will reciprocate?”

  “I'll think about it. Tell me: Did you engineer our escape from Atlantis?”

  It was obvious to Conroy that to deny what she seemed to believe to be true would only inspire a negative response. Not what he was opting for. Thus, he seemed to consider his response for a delicate moment. A thoughtful finger was placed against his closed lips. It then dropped, at which point he spoke.

  “Not directly, but yes, we are responsible for your freedom.”

  Makoto stood. “That's all I needed to know.”

  Han got to his feet in turn, and followed her as she exited the room. Conroy made no comment, despite her expectation. Makoto did not stop when she passed the exiting door of the building.

  “Where are you going, Mako? Did he tick you off or something?” Hanlan asked, concerned. She halted and faced him.

  “No, love, he didn't. I just need time… time to think. Alone.” Suddenly she was looking to him, asking for time alone, and Han found himself hesitant to answer her. There was something in her expression which set him at ill ease.

  “Mako,” he took her hands in his. “I need you…”

  Her gaze did not quite meet his. “I'm not going to run off, if that's what you think.”

  “Not like before?” While her words did not betray the raw anxiety she felt, her body did.

  “I… you've got too trust me.”

  He did not, and a single glance told her that. He said nothing, fearful the wrong words would slip forth.

  “If you love me… you will. I know you do… I can feel it.”

  Han looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “You know I'm empathic, right?” Waiting for his nod, finding it, she elaborated. “I don't know why - or how - but I know what you feel. Even when I don't try, I know you love me… but…”

  “But what?” Tension drifted audibly in his tones.

  “I won't leave you, I swear. I know those other girls, even though they might have cared for you… they never stayed. I'm not like that…” her face worked visibly in nervousness. “Han… do you want to marry me?”

  Something like relief, amazement, and pleasure appeared on the bruiser's handsomely chiseled face. His words did not share the tone, however.

  “Are you… uh…” No, he thought, she's sure. I know it. She doesn't say stuff she's not sure of. Not usually. “I mean, we don't know we'll ever make it…”

  “Exactly. That's something we'll know when it happens.” A wistful look succeeded the uncertain expression.

  But why? something asked inside of her. Why marry him so soon? You know what mama would have said. 'Wait a year, maybe two. Then settle in, have a dozen babies in your dreams while you give one birth.' “I never thought… I mean, isn't this a little…”

  She smiled. :What would mama do faced with this? I don't know. But for me, I think… I feel more than anything that this is right:

  “Yes but isn't it what you want?”

  “C'mon? We haven't known each other for very long…”

  Makoto was surprised, and impressed, by Hanlan's emotional chastity. “You're gonna count seconds? Thought I was going to do that.”

  Han turned over another leaf. “I just… gotta do it once. Get married I mean. Don' wanna rush somethin' so important!”

  She pulled him towards her, pressing against him firmly. She mimiced his discomfort with a loving grin, saying, “C'mon? Big brave fighter's worried little girl's gonna cause him too much trouble?”

  He 'hmmed', locking eyes with her. “I just remembered how much I like trouble.”

  “Yeah…”

  He wrapped his arms around her, loving the feel of her solid warmth. “Yeah,” he crooned. “And I ain't gonna run either. Not from you… never.”

  Without another word, they kissed. It was a long, deliberately passionate, lingering kiss, opposed to their first, emotionally desperate encouter. Makoto found herself feeling rather warmed by the heat between them, and felt very much intoxicated, as Han did, in turn.

  Finally, they paused long enough to breathe. Neither let each other go, holding tightly, as if trying to bond physically. Han felt now, more than ever, that Makoto was a fact in his life, and to lose her… he did not want to imagine it. Makoto, separately, shared his thoughts, realizing that he was the type of man, who could never betray her.

  “Mako-babe… I'll leave you alone now if you want,” he whispered, mouth against her ear.

  She murmured dissent. “No, please don't. Alone is really the last thing… I want to be right now. Really.”

  Silence accompanied them, sympathetic, holding them for a Time in solitary fashion, allowing them a brief peace.

  “Do you want to go and find someone to get us married?” Han asked, not really wanting to let her go, wondering if he ever could.

  “Not yet,” she replied softly, tightening her grip on him somewhat, as if telling him she would never leave. “There's no hurry.”

  Chapter 7

  A Ragged Talon