"There are people in that house
that I’m interested in, too," Felinos said, not wanting to let
someone he wasn’t sure he could trust know how much of a
connection he had to those people. "Don’t think
you’re
the only one with plans."
"Well, you have balls, I’ll give
you that," the scarred man said, chuckling, "so I’ll let you off
easy just this once. Tell me what you’re
really
doing here, and I’ll leave you alone."
"What do you mean?"
"You already said you didn’t work for
Chronos, so there’s no way that anyone in that house could have
pissed you off as much as they did me. Just tell me what you
want here, and I’ll get out of your way."
"I can’t do that."
"Why the hell not?" the scarred
man demanded. Then he grabbed Felinos around the throat again,
squeezing harder this time. "Or have you been lying to me all
this time? Did Chronos send you out here just to make me
think
you were on my side so that
they could bring me in?" The
grip on his throat grew painfully tight.
"I already told you I wasn’t with
Chronos," Felinos growled. "There’s someone in that house I have
some unfinished business with."
"You’ll have to excuse me for not
buying into that line of crap— how could a rogue Lost Unit like
you claim
to be have any kind of ties with a Guyver?"
"If I tell you the truth, how do I know
you won’t kill me just out of spite?"
"Well, that depends," the scarred man
said, smirking. "You think I’d have a reason to want to do
that?"
Felinos, after a minute of fierce
internal debate, decided to lay all of – well, almost all – his
proverbial cards on the table. And hope that the proverbial shit
didn’t hit the fan. "I used to work for Chronos; I was a
scientist, a processing tech. Doesn’t really make much
difference now, but I met up with the Guyvers during the Relics
Point fiasco; my name’s Howard Jackson."
"So you were one of Chronos’ lab rats? I
don’t remember you."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Oh, it’s a good thing," the
scarred man said, lowering his sunglasses just enough to give
Felinos a glimpse of his eerily bright, crimson eyes. "It’s a
very
good thing, given the fact that I wanted to kill every single
one of the lab rats I’ve had the bad luck to run across."
"Well then, I guess I’m glad you don’t
remember me. Just out of curiosity, what’s your name? I can’t
very well go around calling you ‘hey, you’ all the time."
"You can call me Aptom," the
scarred man said as he slung his right arm around Felinos’
shoulders. "See, that’s another good thing about you right
there—none of the lab rats who worked with us Lost Units ever
cared that we even had
names."
As the two of them started walking, or
rather, as Aptom started dragging and frog-marching him toward
the house where all of his old friends were staying, Felinos
looked over at his strange new companion.
"Wait—where are you taking me?"
"You said these guys in there were
friends of yours," Aptom said, grinning more widely and not
letting Felinos get a word in, "so we’re going to pay them a
visit. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?"
"I get the feeling it wouldn’t matter
much if I do," Felinos grumbled. "Still, there are two problems
with your ‘suggestion’: none of them would be able to recognize
me in this form, and I didn’t exactly bring any clothes with
me."
"Never bothered me," Aptom said
blithely.
"Great."
Felinos rolled his eyes. "I just
had
to get stuck with an exhibitionist. That’s just my luck."
Aptom laughed. "Well, if you’re
body-shy, I guess you can borrow my jacket."
"Thanks," Felinos said, shifting back
into his human form.
Howard took the leather jacket as Aptom
handed it to him, hurriedly zipping it up and trying to pull it
down so the people inside wouldn’t be able to get a look at his
privates. It worked—mostly, at least—but he still felt like he
was wearing a kilt. As he and Aptom walked up to the door of the
house, Howard wondered what Toshiaki would think when he caught
sight of what he was doing. More than that, Howard wondered what
the people in that house would think when they saw him.
They’d be surprised, of course,
since the last place they’d seen him was at Relics Point. The
same Relics Point that was now the largest damn crater in the
Japan Section. The ‘Japan
Section’? Howard almost rolled
his eyes. Look at me—I’m
starting to think like those bastards. Though I guess it’s just
a hazard of working for them for as long as I did. I wonder if
Toshiaki has these problems?
Howard knew that he’d never ask that
question, though. Even if he’d been more curious than he was
now, he and Toshiaki had made a silent promise that they
wouldn’t ever talk about their time spent in the employ of
Chronos; it just brought up too many bad memories. It was best
not to disturb the old graves—not only the ones where they’d
buried the remains of their friends and fellow scientists, but
the graves of memory as well.
When they reached the door, Howard
caught sight of Aptom’s hand. His pointer finger was morphing
into some kind of long, thin claw, which Aptom proceeded to use
to pick the lock on the door they were standing in front of.
Howard watched in morbid fascination as the lock clicked open
and Aptom shoved the door out of his way.
"Hey, Natsuki! I’m glad you’re…"
Tetsuro, who’d just stepped into the main room, looked up and
saw who had really
come into their alleged safehouse. His eyes locked on Aptom for
a moment, and the scarred Lost Number actually waved at him.
Then he noticed Howard, who was still trying to get Aptom’s
leather jacket to cover all the… important parts of his anatomy.
"Mr. Jackson?"
Howard looked over at Tetsuro. "Nice to
see you again."
"Nice to see
us
again?" Tetsuro exclaimed, rushing over to Howard and looking
him over. "It’s nice to see
you again! I didn’t think we’d
ever
see you again! How did you manage to get out of Relics Point?"
Tetsuro glanced down. "And… why aren’t you wearing any pants?"
Howard chuckled. "Which question do you
want me to answer first?"
"Wait a minute, I’ll go get the others.
Then we can talk."
Tetsuro hurried off into another room,
leaving Howard and Aptom alone. Toshiaki came dashing up just
then, taking in the scene quickly and turning to look at Howard.
"Hey, are you all right? I didn’t see you at your post, and I
got-" He cut himself off, finally seeming to notice Aptom.
"Who’s this?"
"This is Aptom; I think he’s on our
side. I at least know he’s a Lost Number, like us."