Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Hello ❯ Chapter Nine ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: Text typed by Heero is in brackets. Text from not-Heero is bracketed by “/.” Thanks again to everyone who left reviews, and a special thanks to Solaris for beta reading! I hope to have the next chapter out as quickly as this one.
 
 
CHAPTER NINE
 
After I finished chatting with the hacker, I felt the need to clear my mind. It is not something I am proud of, but except for my recent discussions with the other pilots, my conversation with the hacker was the most communicating I had done with another human being in a long time.
 
I did Tai Chi for an hour, meditated for thirty minutes, and then ate a small salad for dinner. I was surprised at my lack of appetite, and made a mental note to pay more attention to my appetite and food intake.
 
Once I was calm enough, I ran “Challenge.”
 
I was unsurprised when the screen went black. Were it not for the almost inaudible whirring of my hard drive, I would have wondered if the computer was even still on. After approximately twenty seconds, a command prompt appeared. There was still nothing else on the screen.
 
I frowned and thought back to my training in command prompt usage. I tried multiple commands, all to no avail. I wondered what would happen if I could not get the program to proceed. Would I be able to at least return to my desktop? I was also surprised by how displeased I was at the notion of failing to rise to my opponent's challenge. But how to make it continue?
 
I sat back for a moment and closed my eyes. I thought about my mysterious hacker. I thought about computer programs and languages. From some almost-forgotten corner of my mind, I remembered “Eliza,” an early program that had sought to simulate natural conversation. Eliza had focused on psychiatric problems, but other programs since had improved on the same idea of making a computer do a phenomenal job of simulating a real conversation. Perhaps I needed to try having a conversation with the program, and I knew what my first attempt at communication would be.
 
[Hello.]
 
Instead of the blank prompt, text now appeared on the screen.
 
/Why hello there! And congratulations on picking the right word! What's up? /
 
[My ceiling.]
 
/I guess that's true. /
 
After about two minutes, the program typed to me again.
 
/You're not very talkative. And although it's against my better judgment, I'll give you some information about how the rest of this will work. To win, you will need to talk to this program. As you chat, you'll unlock challenges - but you can only unlock them by communicating. And you can leave and save your progress at any time by typing !SAVE./
 
When I didn't respond after a few minutes, the command prompt appeared again.
 
/You can start anytime. :-) /
 
Hn. I decided to start out easy and bland.
 
[How are you today?]
 
/I'm good. How `bout you? /
 
[Fine.]
 
So much for that line of conversation. I discovered that the difficulty in needing to chat to proceed with the program was that I do not know how to converse. The other people that I have spent a lot of time talking to, like Duo and Relena, are natural conversationalists who move things along effortlessly.
 
[What should we talk about?]
 
/*sigh* You're supposed to be doing the work here, you know. How about music? /
 
[I like music.]
 
/How fascinating. You realize, of course, that they did a study a few years back that showed that ninety-six percent of people claim to enjoy listening to music? /
 
[I had not heard that.]
 
/Now you know. /
 
I decided that perhaps I should expand on my earlier statement.
 
[I like many different kinds of music.]
 
/That's an improvement, but I know you can do better. Is talking really that hard for you? /
 
I gritted my teeth. Apparently the program had been written with a bit of an attitude.
 
[I do not like the sugary space pop that is so popular today. Do you?]
 
/I like some of it. What else do you not like? /
 
I thought for a moment.
 
[I do not like music if it is just screaming and other noise.]
 
/Sure. So what do you like? /
 
I pondered how to answer.
 
[I like music that reflects the vastness of human experience. And I like music from all eras of humanity. I like some very modern music, I like some pre-Colony music.]
 
/Any examples? /
 
[Modern music: Polar Colony, Tabu Kryzgx, Kanji Siren.]
 
/That's quite diverse. /
 
It was a fair assessment of the names I had thrown out. Polar Colony is a band known for producing melodic pop/rock with quirky, clever lyrics. Tabu Kryzgx is a modern composer who makes atonal symphonies with computers. Kanji Siren is an Earth band that does something that I would describe as orchestral space rock. It has the driving futuristic sound of space rock, but makes dramatic use of a full orchestra. In general, it was fair to say that the artists probably did not normally share much of an audience.
 
[Pre-colony music: Barenaked Ladies, Nine Inch Nails, Beethoven, Kate Bush.]
 
/No big surprises there . . . except for Kate Bush. Isn't that chick music?/
 
I glared at the screen.
 
[I am not aware of it being “chick” music.]
 
/Just kidding. So you think these artists display the vastness of human experience? What about your experience? /
 
I did not answer immediately. Truthfully, I did not know how to answer. I had never thought to apply music to my own experiences. After a few minutes of silence from me, the program prompted me again.
 
/Tell me, Agent Yuy. What's your favorite song by Kate Bush? /
 
[Pull out the Pin.]
 
/And what is it about? /
 
[A soldier during a war, who is watching an enemy combatant. He does not want to kill, but he knows he has to because he loves his own life. He knows his enemy will kill him if he does not pull the pin of the grenade in his hand.]
 
I frowned thoughtfully as I reviewed the song's lyrics in my head.
 
[He dislikes his enemy, claims that he stinks of “the west.” He catalogues all the ways that they are different, like he is trying to justify his actions. Then as he gets close enough, he can see in the man's eyes. The man is stirring him to violence, but even then he is conflicted. He sees little life in his enemy's eyes, but thinks about the man's wife as he kills him.]
 
When long enough had passed that it was clear I was done with my description, the program prompted me again.
 
/But that doesn't have anything in common with any of your own experiences? /
 
I froze for a moment in shock. I could feel my heart rate increase as my mind processed the question - and the correct answer to it.
 
[!SAVE]
 
/Saved. See you later. /
 
And then my normal desktop reappeared as though nothing had happened.
 
I thought about the song. Of course it applied to me, to what I had done during the war. How had I not made the connection before? I opened the music folder on my computer to listen to the song. I realized, for the first time, that I liked the song because I empathized with the singer. Unbidden, a memory rose in my mind.
 
***
 
I had been sent to infiltrate an Oz base that was suspected of having discovered a newer, stronger metal alloy, similar to Gundanium. My job was to get in, hack the computers to learn what had been discovered, and then get out. On my way out, I was to cause as much damage as possible.
 
And I did.
 
Data cell safely tucked away inside my clothing, I made my way toward the exit of the base, blowing previously-laid charges as I went.
 
After the first few bombs went off, there was mass chaos inside the base. Soldiers were all around me, some panicking, some trying to get out, some trying to give orders. All of them were too busy to pay any attention to me.
 
At least, until I got about a thousand feet from the bay that I was going to exit from.
 
There, in a hallway beginning to fill with smoke, someone finally realized that I had no business being in the base.
 
The man who stopped me was a young soldier, no more than twenty-five years old by my estimation. We were alone - lucky for me, but terribly unlucky for him. When he saw me at the end of the hall, no more than ten feet from him, his eyes narrowed and he trained his gun on me.
 
“What are you doing here, kid?” he barked.
 
I did not give him the benefit of an answer. Instead, I raised my own gun and shot him twice. I never broke contact with his eyes. They widened and a strange expression crossed his face as he slumped to the floor.
 
“'M so s'rry, Sarah…” he whispered before taking one last gurgling breath.
 
I stepped over him and increased my pace. I would have a difficult time explaining things if someone chanced upon us in the hall.
 
***
 
I gasped and hunched over. I felt the unfamiliar sting of tears in my eyes, although I did not cry. Yes, I knew what it was like to be caught up in a war, forced to kill or be killed.
 
I knew what it was to inflict death on a person even while realizing that they had loved ones who would be left behind.
 
I too have pulled out the pin.
 
I thought about other songs that I have been particularly drawn to, and realized that many of them speak directly to things that I have experienced in my life.
 
It was shocking.
 
It was discombobulating.
 
It was frightening.
 
I began to realize that my feelings about myself were wrong.
 
For so long, I had thought of myself as a weapon, as something other than human. I had believed that no one else could be the same as me. I had believed that I could not and did not feel like other people.
 
I have used those beliefs as a shield. I have used them to justify pushing away the people in my life. I have used them to push away my own feelings. I have ignored the wisdom that Odin Lowe passed on to me so long ago.
 
I have done everything but follow my own feelings.
 
I have lost sight of how I feel.
 
But as I listened to “Pull out the Pin” again, and felt the squeezing pain in my chest as I thought about what I had done during the war, I began to wonder if Odin Lowe was right after all.
 
Something felt so wrong inside of me that I thought perhaps it would have been better to stay ignorant.
 
And I wondered how I was going to manage my meeting with Commander Une tomorrow with this sick feeling inside my chest.
 
Shaking slightly in reaction, I shut the computer down and went to get ready for bed. I was only slightly calmer as I crawled into bed and a fitful sleep.