December 25, 11:35 am
They had talked with Sheila for a while longer–gotten an update on the other asset’s status, and a promise that they’d be able to talk to her in a few hours– and then Sheila escorted him back out into the hotel proper.
Robert raised their arm to check their watch– before remembering with frustration that they weren’t wearing one.
“Out of time, Halblicht?” Sheila asked as she walked along with her arms crossed, following it up with a snickering little laugh.
He scoffed, almost amused by the idea. Or perhaps her laughter was contagious. “I have no idea. I wore the same watch for a year, and they confiscated it.”
Well, I mean, Robert, it was a mini computer.
And a recording device. And a garrote.
So we can’t blame them, right?
I feel naked…. and also I have no idea what time it is.
Sheila nodded knowingly as she followed him.
“Ahhh yes. The one with the nifty wire in it, right? Agent Lang was rather enamored with it when he saw the footage, and I, a little jealous.” She continued snickering. “I think it’s down in evidence somewhere.”
“I doubt I’ll get it back,” Robert shrugged. “But I find myself wondering what time it is.”
Is this because you’re hungry?
I’m not hungry.
Yes you are. We both are. That’s why you’re wondering if it’s lunchtime yet.
Agent Ash chuckled and fished in her pocket for a moment before she pulled out an old and time-worn wristwatch, holding it up towards him so he could see the time.
“I’ll put in a good word with your people to get you a watch that isn’t something straight out of an action thriller, my friend.”
“That would be kind of you!” Bobby put in with a wide smile. “In the meantime, would you happen to know if it’s about time for lunch?”
Sheila turned the watch back towards herself with a hum, and as it dangled between her fingers he could see the mark of a three legged bird etched on its back. “Just about. Another 15 minutes or so till noon.”
“I see. If that’s the case Prosecutor Blackquill might be in the dining room.”
You’re so circuitous! Just tell her you’re hungry.
She’s supposed to bring us back to Simon, Bobby. Also it’s fairly likely he is in the dining room.
Agent Ash started cackling again as she balled her fist around the watch and shoved it into her pocket.
“Counting on him being a peckish prosecutor? Or just for a snack??” She took a sharp turn towards the dining room, all the same.
“He’s been known to treat himself when able,” Robert admitted, affecting a little smirk. “Though his defense counterpart might well have dragged him along.”
They’d brought him things in prison. Chocolate bars. Instant noodles. Canned coffee. It had started with Robert trying to buy his trust. But then he’d seen how excited Simon got about it, though he hid it under his disaffected sarcasm and insults.
After that was the first time you bought something for yourself, too. I remember that. It was before I was really awake.
Yes, well. I understood that people are motivated by selfish little treats. But I hadn’t had the opportunity to test it for myself…
“Ah yes…Miss Edutainment.” Agent Ash clicked open a compact as they walked and began fixing her lipstick thoughtfully. “That would make sense…either way, really. It’s likely that’s where we’ll find your prosecutor, Detective. Treating himself, as one should.”
“A fan of treating yourself, Sheila?” he asked, cocking his head as they looped around into the main hall.
She smiled with freshly painted lips as she clicked the compact and lipstick shut.
“But of course. I’ve had more than enough of going without, after all.” She spun the compact slowly against her palm “now that I’m able, why wouldn’t I treat myself to clothes I enjoy? Fine makeup? Interesting foods and drink?”
The corner of Robert’s mouth twitched. “Something we have in common then.”
They entered the dining room and it was, if possible, even more empty than it had been in the morning. But there was Athena, with Phoenix Wright. It looked like they were most of the way through a meal.
“Seems it is. If we have a little time, and if they’re even paying you, perhaps we can take a diversion to the shopping district before we leave.” Sheila said with a smirk, before noticing Athena and Phoenix. “Ah, no peckish prosecutor, but we do have Miss Edutainment. That’ll do.”
Athena’s head shot up from her bowl of noodles, and Sheila broke into a laughing fit when she heard Athena’s keening whine.
“Miss Edutainment? “
Bobby felt a little sting of disappointment that Simon wasn’t there– but he was glad to see Athena, and greeted her with a snappy salute.
“Ms. Athena! Ah, seems like we’ve picked up another friend who likes silly nicknames, eh?”
She’s hardly a friend, Bobby. We don’t even know her.
She’s not not a friend, Robert. She said she wanted to talk more. And go out to shopping with us– she said just now.
Athena turned with an exaggerated expression of distress, leaning over the back of the chair.
“And one was bad enough! I don’t think I can survive another!” Still, she snapped a salute back, and the distress evaporated into a sunny smile. “Welcome back, Bobby! And hello again Agent Ash!”
Sheila had all but buckled over as she laughed, and briefly she used Bobby’s shoulder to brace herself before she pushed herself back up with a grin.
“As promised, I’ve returned him safe and sound. I didn’t even bite, right Mr. Halblicht?”
“Not even a little,” Bobby chuckled. “Oh, and good afternoon to you too, Mr. Wright.”
Phoenix Wright looked up at the situation with weary resignation and raised his coffee cup. “Afternoon, Halblicht. Hey, Agent Ash.”
I don’t think he likes us, Robert.
I don’t see why he would.
Bobby adjusted his cuffs. “I see Prosecutor Blackquill isn’t with us at the moment?”
Athena shook her head as she finished off her coffee. “No, sorry Bobby. He’s probably still in his room…he needed a moment to himself.”
I hope he’s okay…
Hmm.
Sheila waved to Phoenix. “Hello, Mr. Hedgehog. Thank you for your service to Interpol today.”
“Hey, the pleasure’s all mine helping out! Although, I do have a few questions for you, if you didn’t mind?” Phoenix asked.
“Well. I’ll see if I can find it in my heart to answer.” Sheila leaned on the table with a smirk.
Halblicht strode over to where Athena was sitting, trying not to loom.
“So Prosecutor Blackquill is in his room…. Is he alright? Ah, how about you, Ms. Athena?” Bobby murmured.
Athena looked up at Bobby with a nod,
“He’s alright. It’s just been an eventful few days…you know? He’s not hurt, and I made sure he wasn’t feeling too bad before I headed out. I think he just needed some time to lay down and sort things out.” She rubbed her neck, glancing sidelong at Phoenix and Sheila talking. “I’m alright. Trying to process it all too.”
The smile on her face was almost convincing. But it couldn’t fool Robert’s expert gaze.
“There’s a lot to process, admittedly,” he nodded and offered her a soft smile as a polite acknowledgement of her own little falsehood.
He glanced up when Wright spoke again– he noticed the lawyer looking between Athena and him.
“Ah, hey, Athena– are you going to be alright if I head out and talk to Agent Ash for a bit?”
“Huh??” Athena turned towards him with a bright grin. “Yeah, I’ll be alright boss! Promise! You know I can hold my own!”
Sheila Ash gave them a lazy salute, before she stretched and sauntered towards the door.
“Good girl. Detective Halblicht?” she looked over her shoulder. “Try to figure out your pay situation, and let me know.”
She waved her compact at him with a wink.
Bobby chuckled, and gave her a thumbs up. “I’ll get back to you ASAP, Agent Ash!”
Phoenix Wright murmured a few words of encouragement to Athena, patted her on the back, and hurried out of the room with the interpol agent.
Athena and Halblicht were suddenly alone in the room together.
Robert smiled politely at her. “Is it alright if I take the empty seat? I was hoping to get something for lunch, but if you’d prefer, I can sit elsewhere.”
Athena’s eyes widened.
“N-no, no of course!” She gestured towards the seat with a smile. “I’m not gonna banish you to the other side of the dining room, geeze!”
He chuckled performatively and shook his head, sitting down across from her in Wright’s vacated seat. “Well, you’d have every right to, but I appreciate it.”
“Mr. Wright was saying the same thing,” Athena leaned on her hand, watching him carefully. “And I was trying to explain to him that I…I don’t want to, Robert. So– What do you want from the menu? My treat.”
“That’s very kind of you, Ms. Athena.” He picked the menu up, and looked it over, finding himself met with a memory as he did. “You know, we were strictly taught to order dishes based on the country we were in. Simple. Cheap. Popular. The sort of thing on every menu. In America it was cheeseburgers. Last year was the first time I ordered something in a restaurant in America that wasn’t a cheeseburger.”
He didn’t really know why he was telling her. Maybe he thought she’d find it interesting as a psychologist. The only other person outside the organization who knew was Bobby, of course.
Athena turned more solidly towards him, and her bright eyes stared straight into his.
“To help you blend in? So nobody would make a note about any peculiar eating habit, or anything like that? Geeze…so what’d you order?”
“Exactly,” he nodded. “To blend in, and so that our eating habits wouldn’t be remarked on. And– I suspect, to discourage eating as a luxury. The first thing I tried was chicken strips. Not very adventurous, I’m afraid, but Bobby claimed that he liked them.”
I do like them. I used to go to that awful sports bar in Hinkley just because they had really good chicken strips.
Athena shook her head. “Another method of control.”
The young woman’s expression didn’t shift much, only the slightest downturn of her lips. In fact…ever since Wright had left, the big smile had smoothed into something much more subtle.
She put her hand to her chest before she spoke again. “Good choice, Robert. Bobby’s got taste. Chicken strips are delicious. Actually, I used to be a lot less adventurous about food until I took to experimenting abroad…but a good chicken strip is an art.”
“They’re definitely a unique experience from cheeseburgers,” he agreed. “Which was the point at the time.”
It was interesting to see her intensity of expression diminish when others weren’t around. No pressure to perform– something he knew all too well.
It makes me worry about her…
I’m pretty sure that’s just the way she is, Bobby. Not something to be worried about.
The young woman looked down at the menu thoughtfully as she rubbed her finger against its laminated corner.
“It was a first step, right? A step outside the box you’d been shut in.” She looked up at him again with the slightest furrow of her brow. “Y-you know. When I was younger my mom used to make me this one meal over and over when I asked for it…if you liked the chicken strips, it might be up your alley too.”
“Oh? Consider me curious”
Nothing to worry about? Bobby murmured internally. You’re sure you didn’t traumatize her or…
I’m sure I did traumatize her, but if you know anything about the case– and I know you do– she was peculiar before that day. She’s telling us about that right now. I think she might be attempting to… bond… with me in some way.
You say that like friendship is some kind of disease.
Athena managed a faint smile, nodding her head with a light clap of her hands.
“Katsudon! Heh, she told me that she used to eat it all the time when she was studying for her college exams. I loved it, and asked for it at least once a week. She’d told me there was a bit of wordplay in it that was supposed to be good luck when facing something…I maybe took it a little seriously.”
“Katsudon, eh? I’ll have to try it when we’re back in LA– or if we happen to end up on a trip to Japan. What’s the wordplay?”
Oh I think I know this one, Robert. Something from an old detective movie?
Athena leaned a little towards him.
“It’s in the word ‘katsu’. It’s a homophone of another word which means ‘to win’. So the idea is that it’ll somehow empower you if you eat it before something like a test. It’s a student tradition.” She nodded seriously “…they also use it in cop dramas a lot saying it has the power to make suspects tell the truth. Funny, huh? But I swear it’s really fantastic. Heck, I learned to make it while I was in Europe.”
Bobby chuckled. “The power to make suspects tell the truth. I think I did see that in a movie once.”
The waitress came by and he ordered lunch for himself– chicken strips were in fact on offer in the international hotel but he ordered the bulgogi instead this time.
He leaned on his hands. “Did you learn to cook a lot when you were in Europe?”
Athena nodded slowly,
“Yeah… my grandparents weren’t bad people, but they didn’t really know how to deal with me…so I wound up teaching myself to cook, on top of other stuff…” She chuckled quietly. She pointed to her face and flashed a bright and sunny smile. “Like , you know… That way at least I could make myself things that reminded me of home.”
Robert nodded. “They were kind people, but they didn’t understand you. I see. I imagine that was…” He struggled to find what he meant. What it might feel like.
“Isolating?” Bobby filled in, cocking his head.
Athena nodded subtly. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.” the smile dropped away, replaced with a kind of quiet curiosity in her eyes as they turned back to him.
“But even then I wasn’t exactly a stranger to it. I’d been looked at like I was strange since I could first talk. Some of the Cosmos employees outside the lab used to joke that I must have hatched from that rock mom got from the moon!” She laughed, but it was completely hollow. “anyway…”
Bobby felt himself pale at the mere mention of the moon rock and he had no idea what to say– afraid he’d say something wrong and upset her.
Robert stepped in to bridge the gap, with no such concern.
“In any case. It does seem like we have some common ground, Ms. Athena. I can’t say our circumstances are similar, but the result seems to be an understanding. If you don’t mind me saying.”
It was true. Since the grand revelation, over the past few days, he’d been growing to wonder if Athena Cykes actually did understand him to a degree. If nothing else, they were both outsiders.
Athena looked up at him with the ghost of a smile again.
“Our circumstances couldn’t be more different, but somehow the roads lead to a similar place.”
She seemed almost nervous to admit it, the way her eyes flicked towards the empty room. “Not the same…but…”
Her eyes flicked down again when the scan of the room yielded nobody to interrupt. “Enough that we can understand one another…I feel like I understand you, and maybe…like you might be one of the first people who’ve actually understood me. Funny, huh?”
She lightly poked the tips of her fingers together with the subtle furrowing of her brow. “What a quirk of fate, Robert…maybe that’s why I…I can’t feel angry. Even if everyone thinks I should. Even if Apollo’s still furious.”
“A funny quirk of fate indeed,” he nodded. “Bobby thinks that you should be angry. He’s surprised– if gratified– that you aren’t. Me– I don’t know why people expect the emotions that are expected. I think it’s fine if you aren’t angry. Perhaps you’ll be… interested to know that I’m not angry either. For you catching me.”
He kept his voice low as they discussed the circumstances. It was possible there were assets of the organization in the room, or that it was bugged, but it was deeply, deeply unlikely. And sharing this information with Athena seemed worth the risk.
You want to make a friend too, Robert. That’s what you’re feeling.
Don’t be ridiculous.
Athena’s eyes met his, her chin leaned on her hands as she kept her voice low in reply. She watched him with a sort of muted curiosity, genuine in its subtlety.
“You aren’t?” she asked in a hushed answer, before seeming relieved. “I’m glad. I am interested to know that…and I’m interested to know you, Robert. I know it’s not the ‘normal’ response to all this from either of us…it’s not what they say our masks should do…but it’s a genuine reaction, a real one.”
“So it is, Ms. Athena. And I suppose I am pleased with that. A little.”
“A little.” Athena chuckled. “A little’s good in my book, Mr. Robert.” Still, as she chuckled, the barest trace of a pensive expression came to her.
Robert waited patiently while his food arrived, letting her think over whatever it might be, if there was something. Once the waitress was gone again, he asked.
“You looked like you might have something on your mind. Not that I’m trying to pry.”
Bobby interjected. “I’m guessing you’re the type of person who ends up talking mostly about other people’s feelings though, so if you wanna talk about it…”
“H-huh??” Athena’s eyes widened. “Oh ah..mostly yeah… actually…Halblicht? Do you believe in ghosts?”
Bobby paused midway with the fork to his mouth. “Ahhh… why do you ask?”
Robert was sure that Athena could read every nerve in Bobby that was sparking right then.
It was excessively obvious the way that she suddenly turned to him like a cat spotting movement in a dark room.
“…..because Phoenix told me he gets advice from his dead mentor all the time. Or…or used to when his spirit medium assistant was around.”
Bobby swallowed thickly, and managed, “what an odd thing to say. Did he follow that up at all?”
Bobby, you are absolutely terrible at hiding your emotions. If that’s what you want, let me do it.
“Well ah..” Athena rubbed her neck “…he said that Pearl, you remember her from the whale case, right? She’s a spirit medium too. Able to..to summon the dead into herself for a conversation, apparently.”
Still, she watched Bobby carefully.
Bobby, however, did not relinquish control. He leaned forward. “Is it true?”
Robert was assaulted by the noxious mixture of heavy emotions roiling off Bobby in their shared mind. Hope, anxiety, confusion, even fear.
“I think so. Spirits were legally proven in California Vs. Iris Fey when ah…they had to exorcise a spirit possessing the key witness.” She rubbed her neck “and spirit mediums featured heavily in that case. I’ve…I’ve been thinking about trying to talk to her about it.”
“About your mother?” he asked slowly. “Or for some other reason.”
Robert could only watch and wonder what the hell Bobby was doing.
Athena’s crystal blue eyes seemed to bore into him with strange intensity…she must have been feeling every emotion of Bobby’s as they pinged around the room unreservedly.
“…yes…I was hoping to talk to mom again.” she admitted quietly “…Bobby.”
He bit his lip. “Yes, Ms. Athena?”
It clicked into place what Bobby was thinking. He hadn’t known exactly what it was himself before then, but now they understood.
“You’re thinking about yourself, aren’t you?” her head tilted a little to the side, ponytail falling over her shoulder.
“You could tell, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t say anything about it, last night when we were talking, but…”
Bobby, are you sure about this? Either this ‘spirit medium’ is a hoax, or it’s true and you’ll know for certain one way or the other.
Surprisingly thoughtful of you to worry about my feelings, Robert!
I have to live with them.
“Yeah…it was kind of obvious.” Athena tapped near her ear. “…I’m sorry, Bobby. I can’t help it. You want to know if you’re a ghost or…or part of Robert’s cognition, don’t you? Pearl…can probably help, yeah? …I can ask her to talk to you, or talk to her with you if you want.”
He chewed on his knuckle and nodded. “I’d rather not talk to her alone, if you didn’t mind…”
Athena offered her hand towards him with a quiet smile “Promise then. I’ll be there, Detective.”
Full of nerves, Bobby took her hand.
December 25, 11:40 am
Edgeworth caught up with Lang before he managed to find Apollo. According to the woman at the hotel desk Justice had gone out, and not yet returned.
So he sat down over coffee in the conference room that Miles had been keeping reserved all day.
“I’m surprised you even have time for a cup of hotel coffee, Lang,” Miles said. “Running the operation the way you do.”
Shi-long Lang chuckled roughly as he dropped himself down into a chair opposite Miles Edgeworth.
The years hadn’t changed him an ounce, the same cocky grin, the same penchant for loud and dramatic jackets, the same wolfish machismo he always carried himself with…he sat with one arm slung over the back of the chair, the other raising the coffee to his lips.
“A leader’s gotta run with the pack, or they’re gonna outpace him,” he winked. “…someone has to make sure things get done, pretty boy. But, until the pup down there with Sheila starts talkin’, I’ve got a little time to kill.”
Edgeworth chuckled to himself. It seemed that nothing was going to part Lang from that silly wolf pack quirk of his. It was almost charming.
He stirred his coffee and said. “Actually, I was hoping that we could have our man talk to him.”
“You wanna send him down huh? You don’t think we’d have an incident?” Lang tipped back a sip of coffee with a low chuckle. He paused for a second before he chuckled. “her, though. We got Kelso’s death mask off her the second time Sheila had to stop her from creatively killin’ herself.”
“Wonderful,” Edgeworth sighed. “I assume she’s being monitored very closely? I can’t imagine what kind of risk we’d have as long as that continues to be the case. He already stopped her from killing herself once. And if she tries to, I don’t know, strangle him– I know which one of them I’d bet on in a wrestling match.”
Lang slapped his hand on the table with his loud and booming laugh. It was easy to imagine his favorite subordinate hovering just behind him and cackling along with him, even now.
“Wouldn’t take that bet, pretty boy. Little lady’s a lot more spry than ya give her credit for.”
He leaned on his hand. “Suicide attempt one left an agent with a broken nose for trying to stop her…and a poison pill for evidence. The classic ‘fake tooth’ trick on the car ride back to holding from the scene.”
He tapped his cheek in indication, and sipped his coffee. “That bein’ said, she’s monitored closely and personally by Agent Ash, and if you think our guy can get through to her…go for it. I think her attempts have been gettin’ to poor Sheila.”
“From what I’ve heard from Athena Cykes, I think he has more of a chance to get through to her than any of us do. And possibly even motivation to try. You saw my reports about the psyche profile she’s been building.”
“I have. Screwy stuff, ain’t it? She’s a good shrink, that Cykes girl– and that profile’s a hell of a read. If you think he’s the best man for it, I trust ya. I’ll allow it. Your man alone, filmed live and observed, to see if he can break through to the kid.”
“Perfect,” he nodded. “Can I request an additional feed of the video? I’d like Ms. Cykes to be able to monitor the conversation as it happens, for data.”
Lang leaned on the table to watch Edgeworth.
“You got it, pretty boy. Ya know, tell her if she ever gets bored with life in LA , Interpol could use a gal like her.” He pointed his coffee cup at Miles. “Just like we could use a guy like you, pretty boy. If you ever get bored by that cushy-ass chair of yours, Mr. Chief Prosecutor.”
Miles wove his fingers together nervously. It was a tempting offer– as it always was. More tempting than usual in recent days, when he was having trouble trusting his judgment in such a managerial position.
“My hair may be grey, Lang, but it doesn’t mean I’m ready to retire from the important work I’m doing. No matter how much you beg me.”
The wolfman of Interpol shrugged his shoulders with an easy smile.
“Damn. One day. One day I’ll wear ya down, Edgeworth.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve seen you in the trenches of investigation, you ain’t made for paper pushing. You or whip-happy Franziska. and I can’t say I don’t miss you and your annoying chess metaphors.”
Miles leaned on his hand and chuckled, “Well, I suppose they do break the monotony of your dog metaphors.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree if you think I’ll ever stop. HAH.” Lang laughed, slapping the table again “Do you still do that thing you told me about one time? The whole ‘imagining the scene as a game of chess’ thing?”
Miles’ smile tightened. “Do you still chase parked cars?”
“Oooof. I’m wounded, brother.” Lang grinned. “Rook to F7.”
“That’s a weak square, Lang,” Miles drawled, rolling his eyes. He chuckled and sipped his coffee. “Well, who knows what lies in the future. Maybe one day you’ll get me in interpol and there will finally be someone to hold your leash.”
“Buy me a nice collar with your fancy Chief Prosecutor money,” Lang leered, “and I’ll think about not biting the hand.”
“I hardly trust you. I’ll buy myself some diamond studded gloves to go with it, for when you inevitably do bite.”
Maybe someday he would join interpol. Drag Wright with him. They’d all be a terror, that was for certain. It would be much more fun.
“Good man.” Lang snickered as he pushed his hand through his hair. “Awoo. Sheila and Badd’ll be happy to see ya too. I can almost hear her laughin’ from here.”
“Are you sure they aren’t hiding behind the potted plants? No though, I’ve seen both of them briefly over the course of the investigation. It seems you’re all doing well.”
“As well as we can be. The pack’s smaller now, but the talent’s sharper.” His smile softened a bit. “it was an adjustment of course. But things are workin’ out pretty great. We’ve never been better…though I ain’t happy we lost poor Kelso. She was a good kid. Smart.”
Edgeworth sighed. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. And about Fish and St. John as well. This operation has cost Interpol dearly. I can only hope that it will be worth the cost when we get there…”
He didn’t know that it would. That it could. But maybe, if they could truly shut down this organization that was operating– killing, stealing, kidnapping– with impunity, maybe if they could shut down this organization that was enslaving child soldiers– maybe it would start to be worth the cost in blood.
The mounting cost in blood.
He felt a deep sting as he thought about all the reasons that Apollo had to be angry with him. Reasons he wasn’t even sure Apollo himself had contemplated yet.
“I hope to hell it is,” Lang grimaced. “We’re losin’ plenty of good men to these bastards…and not only that…I got a stake in shutting them down. An ideological stake. Takin’ away people’s names and turning them into tools? Kids? Sending them to do whatever some moneybags prick wants, from stealing to killing? Their shitshow is going to burn down around their ears, and the wolves they tried to pen’ll tear them apart.”
He pointed towards Edgeworth. “the dead will howl with us on the day of our vindication.”
Edgeworth nodded, and raised his coffee to the man. “I’ll drink to that, Lang. Hell– I’ll even howl.”