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Government Confines
The Master’s Hand
“Do you ever stop talking,” Peter asked. Being from somewhere where you shot first and asked questions later, the human considered the current lecture a waste of time for both of them. He said as much, earning a tired expression from his new partner. “I am sick and bloody tired of hearing about your power. Maybe that’s why your orders are followed so quickly—because no one can stand to be around your egotism?”
The boy smiled to himself as ForceWarGreymon stumbled over himself, trying to come up with a suitable response. When he eventually gave up, Peter continued. “Why don’t you show me what you can do instead, eh?” He glanced at his watch. “And I can get in some target practice of my own.”
Using live targets did not particularly strike a cord with ForceWarGreymon at the moment, considering his current company. However, he was interested in finding the limits of this human’s abilities. “I believe we can manage that. I would like to see what you can do yourself, Peter.” He suddenly turned direction, moving swiftly to the right.
Peter had no trouble keeping up; it was only a fast walk for him. Beside that, he was no stranger to running. The shooting range was not very far from them, only a minute or two more of walking. But during those one or two minutes, the Digimon had started speaking again, much to Peter’s annoyance.
He had become disillusioned with ForceWarGreymon at the moment. But at the same time, he had become entangled in a feeling somewhere between trust and admiration for his apparent dominion over an entire world, as well as for giving Peter food, albeit unknown but not bad. While still not entirely liking this Digimon, he had started to trust him just enough.
“—Therefore it is my desire to experience the two of us coming together as soon as it is possible.” They, by now, had reached the training gym. At this time of night, there were no people around to see them. This, however, did not stop ForceWarGreymon from closing and locking the main doors. “Privacy, Peter, is of great value to me,” he explained after an undecipherable glance from the human. “Is there anything that you would require in terms of weapons?”
Peter glanced around the room, surveying it carefully and deciding how best he could better himself. The usual equipment lay strewed around the floor, dummies, weight machines, a small track and some basic throwing weapons. There were also other, strange things that Peter did not recognize; things designed solely for the use of digital life forms rather than fleshlings.
“Shooting gallery?” he asked. “Do you have any guns?”
ForceWarGreymon smirked, almost smiled at Peter’s request. “Of course we do,” he said as he clapped a pair of hands. A row of shelves slid up through the floor just behind them, filled with weapons (some of them that Peter recognized readily). “Pick any you like and we shall begin.”
It was a while before they actually did begin. Peter scrutinized the firearms at length, one after another until he found one that suited him well enough. He picked it up and held it out at arm’s length for a moment, then smiled. “Impressive as ever, and in fairly good condition.”
“I am glad you like it,” the dragon replied. The child was no mere child. He knew things that the others did not know, and that put him at an advantage. “I think it fits your personality—conspicuous and pompous.” The human took it as a sort of joke, and laughed a bit, as he looked the weapon over again.
“I’m not sure, but I think it would go well with you then,” Peter told him. “Flamboyantly arrogant.” There was a momentary glint of appreciation in ForceWarGreymon’s eyes and then it faded away just as quickly. “But, let’s get on with it, eh? This should be interesting.”
The boy’s partner nodded. “Target: ranged weapon.” A small target appeared on the far wall, nearly a hundred yards away. “After you, Peter.” Peter came up to the start of the range, and there spread his feet and steadied his breath. He shouldered the weapon tight against the crook of his arm, and then brought the scope to his eye.
“Squeeze the trigger,” he muttered to himself. “Squeeze—” Boom! There was a quick, but hard jolt back from the weapon’s recoil. “Whoot! Dang that’s a nice one!” He brought the weapon to his side and grinned. “Good enough for me. Target, eliminated.”
“I see that—right through center.” ForceWarGreymon stared intently at the decimated target. “I was right about you. We’re going to get along just fine, human. Just fine indeed.” Indeed they were. Ranged combat did not seem like it would be a problem for the human, Peter.
“Halt,” Marcus said through Pat’s voice. “Pat and I can’t take much more this without stopping.” From the back, Mason piped his agreement and asked for dinner as well. Marcus, who had no time-sense had forgotten about eating for the most part. But as he devolved from Pat it came rushing back to him like an avalanche.
He slumped down to the floor with a sigh along with his partner. “Amen to food,” he said. How long had they been walking for him to get so hungry? Marcus watched as the others devolved as well and voiced their hunger, though none more adamantly than Mason. They were all very hungry, Marcus supposed.
“Come on,” Mitch said, breaking out the rations they had carried in a bundle of sacks behind his back. “Let me see here—ah, dinner.” With that he tossed a package of freeze-dried pasta to Marcus and a second one to Pat.
This cave was unfortunately dark, Marcus decided. He hated the dark, and looking at Michael, wondered if they should have brought a lantern or something. The tunnel’s torchlight was good enough to see by, of course, but it did nothing to lighten the mood. Marcus unknowingly scooted closer to his partner.
“Kinda dark in here, isn’t it?” he commented. The others nodded. At least they felt the same way as him. Is there anything we can use to get a fire going, Pat, he asked his partner mentally.
That moss should work, the ExVeemon replied. Maybe a few roots to get it started. But really, nothing we could use to keep it going. The two of them sighed. It looked like the gloom was going to stay for a while and keep them company. We should eat and get some rest, Marcus.
Yeah.
He had fought like it was a life or death situation. It was almost as if ForceWarGreymon hated Peter, hated all humans it seemed. Peter had been forced to dodge and dodge and was on defense more than once during the sparing match. But never did he have time to catch his breath, for his partner was always one right next to him trying to thrash him.
Finally Peter had had enough with it. ForceWarGreymon was not going to wear down soon and the human knew it. Using what little strength he had left, the boy had charged ForceWarGreymon, parrying and blocking attacks until he was right under the Digimon’s snout. Using the weapon that was given him, he shoved the butt-end of it up his partner’s chin hard enough to send the Digimon flying several feet.
Now they sat alone in the comfort of ForceWarGreymon’s bed chambers, discussing the matter.
“You never even saw it coming,” Peter told him once again, feeling proud. Nope, he never even had a chance against that one. Of course, it had only been sparring. Still, the Digimon who sat in front of him was still massaging his jaw carefully. “Bested by a human, eh?”
ForceWarGreymon darkened at that, almost visibly. But he regained his composure just as easily. “Yes, that was most impressive Peter. More over, I’m a Mega Digimon as well. Those patrols you busted up were only champions.” The human was going to increase his strength a hundred fold, he decided. And it was good.
The black heart smiled, only slightly maliciously. “You seem tired, Peter. Are you alright?” he asked. The boy was no use to him if he was going to tire out so quickly. Perhaps the training had been too much for him? Or he had been too much for the human. Whatever the case, something needed to be done to fix the problem.
“Yeah,” the boy replied. “You try it sometime. Fight the mirror if you have to, but it gets real old, real fast!” He snorted loudly and then yawned. Peter had simply not expected that sparring to be so extreme. ForceWarGreymon must have been passionate about exterminating those dissidents.
Had he been too rough? The question surprised the Digimon to the point where he almost stopped breathing. The humans were a menace to him and needed to be eliminated as quickly as possible. But still, perhaps he had worked Peter too hard. It would be no good for the human to be worked to the point where he was no longer useful.
“You must learn to endure, Peter,” he said instead. “So much of what I have worked to create is dependant on how much the two of us can endure. I do not wish to see the Digital World crumble into the anarchy of civil war.”
Peter’s face tightened. Was it true that an entire world depended on him? That, if he failed it would dissolve into chaos? A tingling sensation in the back of his neck told him that something did not quite feel right about his new partner. The Digimon was so obsessed with power and keeping it that it seemed there was nothing else that mattered. Perchance, Peter was being used?
Is he using me, the boy allowed himself to wonder.
There was a sharp burst of anger from his partner. “I would never!” The denial came swiftly after the thought. “I would not do that, Peter. You are important to me.” Yes, important in more ways than you realize.
“What are you talking about,” he demanded harshly. “I never said anything! Either you’re paranoid or over imaginative.” And just how was he important anyway? What was ForceWarGreymon hiding from him? “How am I important?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the dragon snarled. Unless the child had learned to read thoughts—thoughts? ForceWarGreymon recoiled visibly, as if the thought had hit him physically like an atomic bomb. He knows my thoughts! The plot had just thickened into a paste.
The theory was confirmed though. Peter had recoiled just as much as he, almost falling out of his seat. “I know what you’re thinking,” Peter said, regaining his balance. “Now you can’t hide anything from me. If you’re my partner, I expect you to be fully honest with me.”
“Honesty becomes me, Peter,” ForceWarGreymon replied calmly. He had to find a way to block this, to block Peter. If the human could read his thoughts, he could discern his plans as well. “I will be honest with you in the morning. Now get some rest, Peter.”
He needed time to think on this.
Alice had been dreaming of her brother, left behind by her to fend for himself. She wondered if he were alright, or if their mother had done something unthinkable in one of her violent, drunken outbursts. The dream depicted him being beaten, and Alice watching from the sidelines unable to stay the blows. She watched helplessly and in horror watched her brother bleed and beg.
She tried to cry out but her voice would not come. Her body would not move. It was as if she were paralyzed from head to foot. She willed herself to move as much as she could, but still moved not much more than the tip of her little finger. She saw her brother take another hit and tried to cry.
Alice! The voice flickered at the edges of her dream, barely a whisper in her mind. Alice! It grew louder, however. Once more it called and the girl opened her eyes, straining to see through the murky darkness. She lifted her head, the fog of her slumber still refusing to clear out of her mind.
She was sweating profusely and was only barely able to keep her shaking under control. It was a miracle that Casey had not waked up because of her. Her poor brother, left alone… And then she heard it again.
“Alice.” The voice was quiet and had a very inhuman quality about it. The Digimon were still asleep, including her partner, and Alice hesitated to get up. But the voice persisted, calling her name ever so gently so as not to wake the others. She had the feeling that it would not stop until she followed it.
Slipping carefully away from Casey’s protective grasp, she tiptoed away from the camp into the darkness. It seemed strange to her that a disembodied voice would call to her from such a dismal place as this. But still she followed and the voice grew louder and louder until at last it called to her as if right behind her.
“Where are you,” Alice asked into the cavern. Her voice echoed more loudly than it should have. She shivered a bit, surprised at how cold the caves had become. I’m dreaming, she decided firmly. All this is just a dream and I’ll wake up tomorrow refreshed and ready for another day of hiking.
“Alice, please take three steps forward, and do not be frightened.” Three steps forward? The cavern wall did not permit it, it looked like. Alice had wandered down a narrow passage in the cave, all the way to a dead end. “Alice.”
“It’s a dead end, I can’t,” she explained, knowing how futile it was. And also knowing how silly she sounded talking to no one. Great, I gave in and now I’m talking to myself. She assumed it was her subconscious self trying to find a way back to Earth. After all, her younger brother was still there living with that hag of a mother.
“Take three steps forward,” the voice told her, firmly resolute.
Suddenly, Alice found herself walking toward the wall. It was not of her own power, but she felt inclined to go with the flow anyway and the controller eased up its grip and allowed Alice to continue of her own will. One step, two steps, she felt a light breeze against her face and then stopped moving entirely.
The earthen wall had given way behind her and opened into a well lit little room. Two small lamps on either side of the alcove gave it light, but with no visible flames beneath the diamond-sheaved torches. The refracted light played across the walls in rainbow patterns, mesmerizing and drawing her attention to the carved inscriptions all around her.
Occupying the room was a fairly large box made of some sort of blue crystal. She touched the box and its carvings, only to find that it was a trick of the light; the box was as smooth as glass, but warm to the touch.
“Alice,” the voice said again, kindly. The box rippled once under her touch and she retracted her hand hastily. “Do not fear, Alice. I am MasterWarGreymon, the one who sent for you and your companions.”
“But you’re dead,” she stuttered, and received a kindly laugh from the dead master. MasterWarGreymon knew that, of course, and wrapped Alice in his calm. “How can you be here,” Alice asked, awestruck but still skeptical.
“This is my tomb, Alice. My consciousness resides here with the remains of my body.” Somehow, Alice sensed that he was smiling at her. The visual image was of a white clad, white scaled dragon with a double pair of wings and shields on both arms. “You are not alone, Alice. The five humans I have called—”
Alice was not sure if she should, but in the end still interrupted him. “There’re only four of us,” she said. The emotional feel of the cavern changed slightly into a more contemplative sensation. MasterWarGreymon was thinking, she realized. “Is there something wrong?”
“I sent for five. The four of you, and one other who I assumed was with you.” The meditative awareness remained in the tiny enclosure. “I cannot locate the fifth child. But I know he is here, and is in some danger. You must find him, Alice.”
“I’ll try,” she replied.
“I know you will. Perhaps there is something else I can do for you,” MasterWarGreymon offered. The sense of the room returned to the comforting calm that had been there before. “I know that you all miss your homes, and that you all know you cannot go back. And I know you worry about your brother.”
Alice dropped her head, nodding imperceptibly. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes and burst in a shower of cries. The calm wrapped tighter around her and turned into a paternal sort of love. “Do not fear for him, Alice. The timeline of your home changed and your brother is in safe hands. I have protected him as much as I can, because my heart feels compassion for him. He is safe.”
“I wish I knew for certain,” she said softly, the threat of tears beginning to subside. “I left him behind, unprotected. It was wrong.”
“It was not your fault,” the master told her soothingly, and tried to comfort her more. “It was my own, for taking you without so much warning. I apologize to you, for making you worry. But I give you my word; your brother is as safe as he can be.”
She gave the dead dragon a muffled thank you, and rested her right hand on the crystal box once more. She felt power surging into her from the tomb—power that gave her hope and calmed her fears; it was an all-surpassing power that held no trace of malice or maliciousness. She stayed there for a while, not saying anything but only letting the flood wash over her and cleanse her.
How long she stayed there, she did not know. But it seemed that it was not very long before she heard the voices of the others shouting her name. Her eyes had been closed and now she opened them, only to find that the light had dimmed and the box was nothing but cold stone.
Was it real, she wondered to herself. Of course it had been real! She had experienced it herself, and could still feel the remnants of MasterWarGreymon’s power coursing through her veins. Alice smiled and stepped through the wall, out of the tomb and into the same murky darkness that seemed to be the staple of Mech’s caves.
“I’m over here,” she called. “I’m just fine!”
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