FORGOTTEN SOUL

Chapter Two

It had been nearly a week, and still no sign of Heero.

"Any luck?" Releena asked quietly as Duo and Wufei returned from yet another search for their missing comrad. The look on their faces told her all she needed to know.

"Nothing," Duo groaned, collapsing into a chair and tipping it back on two legs, looking up at the ceiling. "Not one scrap of gundanium. Man, you'd think we'd at least find his suit, after it was shot out of the air like that--WAAAH" He toppled backwards as Wufei kicked his seat and sent him crashing to the floor.

"We'll find him," Wufei told Releena somberly, ignoring Duo's loud complaints as he picked himself off the ground. "If Heero was killed, we'd have found the body by now. But I have no doubt that Yuy is still alive, somewhere." The Chinese pilot smirked and shook his head. "He's just too damn stubborn to die."

The nameless boy tasted blood; he coughed violently and felt it running down his chin and the corners of his mouth. Panting, gasping for air, he sucked in as much oxegon as he could, waiting for the torture to start again. Sweat poured off his heaving body and his muscles trembled from pain, stress, and exahstion. He didn't know how much more of this he could take, yet he refused to make a sound.

The uniformed commander gazed impassively at the boy hanging limply on the wall and gestured to the scientist. "Again."

The scientist glared. "Even HE is not invincible, commander! We've been at this for hours. He needs a break or he'll die."

The man's expression did not change. "I want to see how far we can push him before he breaks. I want to hear him scream. Zap him again, Doctor."

"Listen, you..."

The commander whipped out a gun, pointing it, not at the scientist, but at the figure chained to the wall. "Again. And this is the last time I will ask you."

The scientist pursed his lips, but turned back to the panel before him and flipped a lever.

Electrical currents suddenly snaked out of the wall, coiling and racing over the boy's body like a swarm of angry wasps. The boy writhed in agony as the energy strands wrapped around him, searing his skin and clouding his vision until he was aware of nothing except how desperately he wanted this to stop. The chains rattled as he strained against them, trying to escape the white hot currents, but they held him firmly in place.

Yet he would not scream. He couldn't. Something inside him refused to give way.

Finally, it stopped. The youth sagged against his bonds, so utterly and completely drained he thought he might pass out. He heard footsteps walking up to him then, and made an effort to raise his head and look his superior in the face.

"He really is a remarkable peice of work," the commander mused. The boy stared back at him impassively, his eyes showing no expression at all. No anger, no fear, no defiance. Nothing. His expression was as dead as a stone statue's and just as hard.

Perfect.

"Do you know why we're doing this to you, soldier?" he asked. Now was the real test. If the boy was hesitant, or showed any hostile feeling at all, the experiment wasn't working as planned. He searched the drawn, youthful face for any glint of normal human emotion, but was met with the cold, empty stare of a living machine.

"To prepare me for my mission," was the hoarse monotone. "If I am captured, they will do no less, and they must not endanger the mission."

"Exactly." The commander was pleased. Their newest recruit was coming along nicely. "You've done well, Doctor," he called back to the scientist, who was looking completely disgusted with himself and his work. "Another few days, and he'll be ready." With an evil chuckle, he turned on his heel and swept out of the room, leaving the scientist to help the boy out of the restraints and back to his tiny cell.

"Here, boy." The scientist steadied the youth as he staggered from the wall and practically fell into his waiting arms. "Easy, now. We don't have far to go." The boy's lean body shook uncontrollably; his wrists were bloody and raw from his helpless straining against the cruel metal shackles. The scientist frowned at the sight, and felt an odd stab of pity for the young soldier whose life had never really been his own.

The boy managed to keep his feet until the gray haired scientist closed the door of his tiny cell. As the locks and bolts fell into place, the exahusted young man collapsed on his simple cot, knowing he would go through the same thing tomorrow.

But, the next day, instead of the usual torture, they took him to a strange room and strapped him to a chair. The boy allowed them to do this without protest. They were his superiors, after all, and he was a mere soldier. His exsistance was to serve them; it had been that way for as long as he could remember.

Or, had it? Breifly, the young soldier tried to remember a time before this existance, if there had been one at all. But, thinking of the past made his head hurt, and, as usual, he abandoned that train of thought to stop the pain.

The familiar stature of the commander stood before him, hands clasped behind his back, survaying him with a pleased look on his face. The soldier kept his expression carefully neutral and stared straight ahead at nothing.

"We have decided you are ready to return to duty," he announced, staring hard into the boy's face for any reaction, and finding none whatsoever. "We have brought you here for a mission breifing and tonight, you return to your work, as a soldier for the new Romefeller."

The soldier's expression was blank as he answered. "Yes, sir."

The commander smiled and turned his attention to the far wall. Suddenly, the faces of four young boys, about the soldier's own age, appeared overhead. A smiling blond, a young man with spiky hair over one eye, a smirking Chinese boy, and a grinning youth with a braid of long brown hair. The commander watched the soldier tencely, for any signs of recognition. But the soldier's eyes were cold and blank as he gazed at the four individuals; there was no spark of feeling at all.

The commander stifled the urge to yell with triumph. He was there's! The Perfect Soldier finally belonged to Romefeller!

"Do you know these people, soldier?" he asked.

"They're the boys who pilot the mobile suits known as the gundams," the youth answered. But there was no recognition in his hollow, empty reply; he sounded like he was reciting the answers to a complex math problem.

"Yes. Exactly. These four boys are gundam pilots," the commander went on. "They have caused us much trouble over the years, and the new Romefeller feels they have caused enough grief.

"Your mission, soldier, is to capture these four terroritsts, and bring them to us, unharmed. It is vitally important that you not harm them in any way. Because of your last infiltration mission, they will assume that you are one of them. Quietly restrain them and bring them to us. Give no indication that you are working for Romefeller. If you are discovered, they will kill you, and you do not have permission to die yet. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your code name will be the same as before. The four gundam pilots know you as Heero Yuy. For the purpose of this mission, you will answer to that name. Understand?"

"Heero Yuy." The soldier repeated it without question, in the same cold voice as before.

"I understand."

"Good. This briefing is over." The commander leaned forward and gave the soldier a hard look. "Don't fail us, soldier. Do not allow the pilot's false comradedie get in the way of the mission. You know what you must do."

"Yes." Heero's eyes narrowed and he replied, almost in an undertone: "Mission accepted."