2010-12-20 - Songs The Lord Taught Us: Part Two

SOME TIME AGO

Spoiler alert: humanity won!

And then while they were busy drinking or banging or being in comas or whatever, a swarm of Zakus shot Neo Murasame Labs to shit and occupied the facility. The world's second-leading factory for Cyber Newtypes -- that is to say, 'taking the retards and autistics of tomorrow and filling them with pieces of metal until they can be used to kill living things with space weapons' -- has a lot of dangerous technology that really should not fall into the wrong hands.

NOW

A lot of dangerous technology has fallen into the wrong hands.

Zeon has never been the nicest organization, but their leader has sort of gone insane on space drugs lately, and intentionally withheld the entire faction from the Balmarian War for some reason. So they've mostly been working in isolation, and let's face it -- it gets lonely up in space, and a man can only cornhole so much.

Which is to say, there are a lot of extremely unpleasant war crimes happening to a lot of Cyber Newtype teenagers right now. It's a bad trip. Haman Karn doesn't care. She's in the operations room of Neo Murasame Labs, surveying some newly-hacked data archives. Her regal black robes have been covered by a white smock that's stained with blood -- she's spent most of last night in the surgery rooms.

At her feet is Marion Welch, kidnapped EFA Newtype, who has been led around by a chain and dog collar for the past month or so, possibly because it amuses Haman. The Regent's skin is waxy and pale and her eyes are deeply ringed -- she looks like an animated corpse and she projects bad feelings like a cloud bearing black rain.

Which of course makes it the perfect time for anyone who might object to the Zeonic forces running rampant and abusing all of these poor nimrod robo-children and generally being force to ignore the rest of the universe. She sure looks like she could go for a chat!

Well, a chat she could certainly have - albeit it would not be one that would try and guilt trip her, or otherwise feel bad. A man, a mere soldier of the BAHRAM division of the Divine Crusaders, had recently been tasked with figuring out exactly /what/ he wanted to do with his life. With other words, he had no assignment what so ever. This has him straggling along with other groups, or otherwise finding any kind of sign of allied military force to assist. But even here, there was little 'assisting' to do really.

His unit, Amenthes - an Orbital Frame of recent makings - sat outside of the facility with its sensors turned to full force. It was acting like a radar of sorts, as the man who owned it did not much care for surprises. What he did care for, however, was to figure out more about these Cyber NewTypes he'd heard about. And that is exactly what has him walking down the facility's hallways, hands folded behind his back and giving curious looks at other people present, until he finally finds his way into that specific room in which Haman Karn had settled in with her human 'pet'.

Dressed like a regular soldier, without even as much as an indication of rank on him, he doesn't really stand out amongst the others present - other than the lack of a Zeon uniform. He salutes some Zeonic troops that are guarding the operations room, and lets Johnny pass as he comes by as well. Unlike that man - he had not a lick of NewType ability. He couldn't sense squat - probably less in fact than your average human, thanks to the effects of a certain experiment that had gone awry.

When he does wander inside, he once again stops to give salute - this time to Haman Karn. "Good evening, Ma'am!" He announces his presence, and remains at attention until she will tell him to stand down or do anything otherwise. He was a good little soldier. But perhaps not as great at heeding orders as the little 'thing' - miss Welch - which he first gave a confused stare... before turning into an expression of glee, a smirk formed.

When the Crimson Lightning... 'awoke', let's say, in the years after the One Year War when he hid away in Zuum City as 'Johnny Depp', it was a very unsettling experience. He couldn't really afford to go to a professional, not without risking revealing himself, and for awhile he feared he might be going a little mad.

But eventually, as he came to understand - at least as much as he could - what was happening to him, it became almost comforting to be able to reach out and feel the people around him. After so long being used to that sort of comfort and reassurance...

... well, Johnny Ridden never thought that being a Newtype would ever make him feel like Haman Karn does lately.

Just being around her makes him literally sick to his stomach, echoes of her madness twisting his gut into knots. But he's a professional; he does his best not to let it show. And, besides, it isn't like he has much choice.

And so the Crimson Lightning steels himself before he pushes his way into the operations room of the recently occupied Labs. Unlike Haman, Johnny's ornate uniform is still immaculate... which may be why he gives the Regent a wide berth, coming to a stop only a few steps into the room.

"My lady," he says hesitantly, after a moment of awkward silence that he spends staring at Marion. "Perhaps you should rest. We can find someone else to take care of things for a few hours."

"I haven't slept for two weeks, Sir Johnny," Haman Karn muses, her voice a creaky, broken thing. "What makes you think I should give up now?" There are the rumors, of course. The rumors that she slaughtered a native culture in South America for a fabled drug that enhances telepathic power. The rumors that her attack on China -- the one that destroyed sections of the Forbidden City -- were a feint to steal a, dare it be said, ancient Chinese secret.

Right now, though, all that's really apparent is that one of the most powerful women in the galaxy looks like a crackhead, is covered in blood, and is keeping a human being as a pet. The Princess of Zeon is nowhere to be seen, having been left behind on Axis. Has Haman even seen her in months? Haman is about to say something else to Ridden -- when suddenly, Ascian Luddite.

The pink-haired Regent's dulled eyes slowly turn toward the BAHRAM soldier. "...what does Nohman want now?" she says, her expression tightening into a frown. "Or are you from that little tart -- Reincam? What /mess/ is Zeon meant to pull BAHRAM out of now?"

Whatever response Johnny was mustering for Haman never makes it out of his mouth. When she turns on Ascian, the spike of negativity thrown the way of the man and BAHRAM actually makes the Crimson Lightning flinch slightly, his face paling.

Knowing full well how likely Haman's irritation is to snowball, Johnny makes a point of taking a sideways step away from Ascian - clearing Ground Zero, if you will - and turns to watch the man's reaction. This should be... interesting.

Ascian raises his eyebrow in confusion at the woman, and remains at attention, miraculously unfazed. He must be used to this kind of treatment. "Ma'am, no BAHRAM issues, Ma'am." Well, that was a rather short reply now wasn't it? "I am not officially assigned to any officer at this time. But as far as I am aware, BAHRAM itself is quite fine at this time. Nothing has been heard from NOHMAN in quite a while, and lady Reincam has been too busy on earth to really command any of BAHRAM." He pauses for a moment.

All of this did not explain his own presence. "I am here because I was... curious, ma'am. I have been encountering quite the quantity of NewTypes as of late, and the information I can find is very... vague. I believed that a place such as Neo Murasame Labs could shed some light on the subject."

"Hnnn." Haman Karn's annoyance does indeed snowball. She marches forward, and thrusts the chain linked to Marion Welch's neck into Johnny Ridden's hand. "Hold the experiment," she orders curtly. Marion doesn't even look at Johnny. Her will has probably been completely broken and she's drooling a bit.

"So you mean to tell me... who/ever/ you are..." Haman says, turning back toward Ascian and looking him up and down, "...that you are /not/ a Newtype?"

Johnny starts a little when Haman thrusts the chain into his hands; he looks from Ascian to Haman, and then down to the chain, and then back up at Haman, obviously bewildered and unsure how to react. He doesn't have to, thankfully, before she storms on towards Ascian, and starts...

... ah. Well, this can't be good. Johnny's mouth tightens into a grim line, and his grip on Marion's chain tightens, his knuckles whitening underneath his uniform gloves. He's already suspecting he'll need to step in... he just needs to figure out how to do so, when the time comes, without making things even worse.

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am!" Ascian keeps up the military etiquette. "As for who I am - my name is Ascian Luddite, ma'am, of the BAHRAM science division." Well, he was an /experiment/ of the science division anyhow. In the meanwhile he keeps staring at Haman Karn, in a respectful manner of course, and ponders why she had asked thie question of him in the tone she had. Or rather, why she seemed so annoyed. Was it the lack of sleep - as Johnny had alluded to? He quickly throws him a stare, and notices those little hints towards his emotions. He remains confused. What had this man so grim?

"Ascian Luddite. A fitting surname for an oldtype," Haman Karn says, all but screaming 'I -- AM -- WICKED -- RACIST' in Ascian's ear. Her level gaze remains fixed on the BAHRAMite, and her lip twitches in a small twinge of -- something.

"Tell me, Ascian Luddite, what you know of me." Haman swoops her robes and turns away, walking back toward her information stream, letting it wash over her as the holo-screens bathe her in their cold light. "Then perhaps I will tell you what you seek to know." She may or may not have forgotten that she gave Marion to Ridden.

Johnny Ridden remains practically motionless, as if he suspected that Haman's vision was based on movement, like a big-titty crackhead T-Rex.

When the Regent prompts Ascian to explain what he knows about her, Johnny does, however, do his best to meet Ascian's gaze just long enough to do one thing:

Very slowly and deliberately shake his head 'no.'

When Johnny shakes no at him, Ascian doesn't understand the hint. What is he to say no to? "From what I remember, ma'am, you are a high ranking officer - leader of the great Zeon army, and a great tactician - as well as a mobile-suit pilot without rival." In honesty, the youth didn't know much about her. He did know she was rumored to be a NewType, but he didn't even bring this up. "I am afraid that is all I know, ma'am! I appologize if this little is not to your liking." At least he doesn't make little of her - or tell her he thinks her ideas are wrong. Quite on the contrary. He turns his eyes again, gazing at the drooling 'girl' which poor Johnny was forced to hold onto. "And it looks like you enjoy putting the EFA in their rightful place."

Haman suddenly slumps forward, her arms going straight and stiff as her palms brace her against the edge of her infoscreen console. Her head dips down, pink hair drooping. And then, she starts shuddering, as if she might vomit.

No -- she laughs. But really, Haman might as well be vomiting, because her laughter is an ugly, unpleasant thing. Mercifully, her cackles are brief.

"I am the Regent of Axis Zeon, Luddite, and not only the leader of Zeon -- I am the leader of /all Newtypes/." This title is a new one, and it would appear that Haman's megalomania is flaring up again. When she lifts herself and spins around, her eyes aren't dull -- there's a very real fire in them, as if she had suddenly been overtaken by demons. Marion, who responds to nothing, suddenly whimpers and curls herself into a ball at Johnny's feet. "Look at me, Ascian Luddite. Look at me and see the future. Yesterday has ended, and today will be over soon. And when it ends -- it will be at my hands. For I -- am -- tomorrow."

Oh, there she goes.

When Marion curls up at his feet, and Haman declares herself the leader of all Newtypes, Johnny decides now would be a good time to get even /farther/ away from Ground Zero; suddenly, the contents of a holoscreen behind him become /extremely interesting/, and he turns to investigate them, half-bent over one of the room's consoles.

Good luck, Ascian Luddite, the man thinks quietly to himself.

Mad people... if there is one thing BAHRAM employees are used to - it is that. So when Haman suddenly slumps forwards and begins to laugh, his eyes almost sparkle in recognition. He knew that kind of cackling, that kind of megalomania. He knew it from experience, because that is how he sometimes felt when on the Amenthes - if he turned off the A.I. - that feeling of a god. And he also knew that there was nothing worse than to try and correct such a person. He knew he hated it when people dared to tell him to stuff it. "The leader of all NewTypes? How interesting. So, does that make her..." He points at the bound girl. "A NewType too?" If that was true, he was glad he wasn't a NewType. But of course, that was the kind of thinking he would never let a superior notice. And god, was he good with lying and keeping up appearances.

He finally lowers his hand. "Permission to be at ease, ma'am?" He asks. Smiling at her. "I am glad that our future is in your capable hands, ma'am." There was another thing he knew how to do well. That was, sucking up to his superiors. It had gotten him far in life, or so he believed, and he would continue to do so as long as it would get him a promotion. He continues to look at her, as he had been asked, still giving that confident and pleased smile.

"Granted," Haman sighs wearily, as if she's annoyed at even having to say it. As accustomed to insane people as Ascian is, Haman is used to his type as well -- that is, suck-ups. "Adulate me all you like, Luddite. It will make no difference soon."

Haman doesn't go into what she /means/ by that. Instead, she focuses on his earlier question. "Her? Yes. Yes, a Newtype. Soon to be... my greatest achievement."

It was hard for Ascian to imagine that a slobbering pet like that could be a 'great achievement'. But if someone as high ranking as Haman Karn claimed it was so - it must be so. "I am not adulating you - ma'am. I am only saying that which is on my mind." When he is granted the ability to stand down, he finally wanders through the room a bit, looking at the devices present, and ends up leaning against one of the computer units. "So..." He is standing quite close to Johnny now, as well as the Welch girl. "If you will permit my curiousity - may I ask what makes her special above the others?" No longer standing in attention, the manner in which he speaks has become a tad more relaxed.

"Nothing," Haman Karn replies, as Ascian walks around. The screens are fairly consistent -- raw data on Cyber Newtypes, being, well, plundered by Zeonic tech. "Nothing, that is, save for my plans for her."

Marion is over with Johnny, huddled away, perhaps ignorant of the discussion. "Her brain is key, Luddite -- to the next great development in mobile suit warfare. GN Drives? Metatron? Useless in the world that is yet to come. The world I will usher in. Through her."

Ascian keeps throwing glances at Marion, then back at Haman. Almost as if just looking at the both of them could trigger something in his mind - some kind of clue. But then the woman claims that Metatron will be useless. This causes a small twitch at his right eye. She might notice - she may not. The guy is a little obsessive about things like that. He likes to think of himself as at least of some use. Without Metatron... what was he? Nothing. He wasn't even a NewType. Just, indeed, an OldType. Someone clueless to the power of the mind. "So, if I may ask, what is that step? I have read many times that the mind is a powerful thing. But what is it that you have planned for her?"

"All good things come to those who wait, Luddite," Haman says, her voice taking on a coy, almost teasing tone -- briefly stirring itself out of her dazed state for something other than self-aggrandizement. "Just remember that history is built on broken backs -- spinal architecture, ever expanding, to try and keep above the surface of the sea of blood. Do you understand? Without atrocity, humanity would not have achieved what it has. So it goes with Newtypes, Luddite. So it goes. Life only comes -- after death."

It takes him a moment to understand such words - not being one for the difficult talk, being the soldier he is. But after a while, during which Haman could probably read the ponderous look on his face most easily, a little light turns on in his head. "Yes. I understand. Man's future is not built on peace and niceties." He believed that much as well. Never did humanity advance as much as it did during war or severe conflict. His father preached similar words to him.

Sure, things like colony drops had at times confused him, or even angered him. But never had such topics been on his mind for long. In fact, had he not been threatened with being shot - he'd likely have annihilated the Balmarian civilian population by himself. "And you are right. But, I guess I cannot help but be curious. But such is man's weakness, is it not?" He tries to raise the level of his own side of the conversation, even if it is just by a little bit. "And patience sadly, is not one of my most desired traits, although I can see its reward easily each time."

"Man's weakness. Hmmnn. Heh. Ha ha." Haman Karn laughs again, but not with gusto, like before. Just a low, dull chuckle, that she quickly buttons. "I wouldn't worry about your weaknesses, Luddite. In time, what will only matter is one's strengths. The strong survive and purge their weaknesses from them -- as I have. And those who spend their time wallowing in what they are not -- become nothing." Haman takes off the bloody surgical smock and throws it to the floor, apparently not caring where it lands. She moves over to another screen, and tuts thoughtfully. "Soon, though. Soon, you shall see the true might of Zeon -- the true genius that I have been held back from."

What the woman said made sense. But was there not also strength in removing one's own weaknesses? He decided not to comment on this, he might anger the woman. Instead, he wanders over to the girl and squats down in front of her, giving her an inspecting look. He smiles. "I met many girls like this in my past." He believed he'd already commented on wishing to see to see the end result of this experiment, so Ascian doesn't say anything in regards to those last words Haman shares with him. "Many didn't make it. But..." He tries to stare into the girl's eyes. Looking for life. Suddenly, there is a pain in his chest.

Not a real pain, but rather an emotional one. Recognition. Once, this particular young man had seen his sister in exactly that state. And his father had done nothing about it. Had he once looked like that too, when he'd been part of the I.D.O. Mindflow experiments? "... I am sure, that under your guidance, this one may. I do not know how you will take this - but you treat her kinder than those I once knew."

Haman Karn's smile is probably not what someone more familiar with her wants to see right now. Marion is near-catatonic -- she doesn't respond when examined closely. It's as if she's been locked into her own little world. "Really, now," Haman says, her smile cunning and predatory. She wrests the leash back from Johnny Ridden, and begins to walk away, toward the exit. She moves like a ghost.

And as she leaves, without looking back, Haman says to Ascian Luddite: "Funny, Ascian Luddite, that you strive to impress those around you, and claim to value kindness -- when you can't recognize cruelty right under your nose." Then the door shuts, and she's gone.

Value kindness? Him? This has Ascian thinking. He didn't mind that Haman realized that he tried to impress her. Instead, he just remains knelled for a while more whilst pondering the latter. Yes, he realized that the girl was faced with cruelty. And it was not like he'd said that she was being treated 'kindly'. No, he'd seem girls in much worse states. Being catatonic, locked away in one's mind for safety. That was a luxory. There were states of a mind that were worse. He stands up, remembering for a moment the feeling of being where one hid in the back of one's mind and murdered... unable to stop it. Someone else in control of his body. The man still doesn't remember how he ever managed to reject it.

How lucky he was compared to others. His smile he'd shown earlier is gone though. Slowly, that realization that he felt sorry for the girl came to him. The wish to free her from her situation. But he also knew that he would not, and could not. How had he truly advanced in life? Others still controlled his body. If not with the power of the Mindflow device, it was through fear and orders. But that was the way he was raised, that was how he had decided he'd go through his life. Was it not?