I returned the phone to its cradle and stood there in silence for a few seconds. Supreme Commander Gihren wanted to meet in two days, and I had been selected to attend the peace talks for the Antarctic Treaty. It would be a great honor for any other soldier of Zeon, but it only served to limit what I could do before the war started up again.
If I wanted to put the United Maintenance Plan in motion and make contact with Amuro Ray before I left for the Earth, I would have to get to work as soon as I woke up in the morning. The war would most likely start back up once I returned from Antarctica, and I would probably end up with a six-month posting attacking Earth or the other sides.
My eyes flicked over to Helen standing a few meters away from me. What was the right move here? I didn't want to hurt the poor girl. On some level, I felt that I owed it to the original Dogwood to handle this situation as carefully as possible.
"Sebastian?" Helen asked. "What was that?"
"That was, um, the base," I said, swallowing heavily. "They want me to attend the peace talks on Earth. The ship will leave on the 20th. Sorry about that."
"No, that's great!" Helen said enthusiastically. "You'll finally have your chance to work your way up the ranks. Maybe you'll really be able to become an admiral by the time you're forty."
I could tell that Helen was referencing something the original Dogwood had said. The first man to inhabit this body had been a political animal, apparently. It was hardly surprising, since I had been the same way in my past life. My ultimate goal in my past life had always been to rise up the corporate ladder. The only difference was that the original Dogwood's occupation was the business of killing people.
"Thanks," I said with a quiet sigh. "If the peace talks fall through, I could end up on a six month deployment."
"Maybe," Helen said with a shrug, "but that's life in the military, isn't it? We both knew what we were getting into. I can wait for you, no problem. Six months is nothing in the grand scheme of things."
Helen was being way too understanding for her own good. I had just admitted to being a brain-damaged war criminal who was about to disappear for six months, and she was okay with that.
"I'll need to start working in the morning to keep up with this new workload," I said, giving another excuse and another opportunity for Helen to opt out.
"It sounds like I'll only have you for a little while, then," Helen said as she took a step toward me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
I can't say I wasn't tempted, but it wouldn't have been right. The thought made me want to laugh. After everything I had done, sleeping with a willing woman was a step too far? Of course it was. My sins up to this point had been borne entirely out of necessity, and this was not necessary.
"I'm sorry, Helen," I said gravely as I pushed her away, "but the damage I took is much worse than I let on."
"What do you mean?" Helen said. For the first time, real fear appeared on her face.
Slowly, I admitted the truth.
"I don't… remember anything. I didn't know my address until I looked it up in my medical records, I don't remember my parents' names, and I don't remember our lives together."
"No, no, that's impossible," Helen said as a mixture of fear, uncertainty, and anger contorted her expression. "This is a cruel joke, Sebastian. You knew my name without asking a few minutes ago, and you're acting exactly the same as always! If you want me to leave, just say so! Don't treat me like a child!"
"It's true," I said, and Helen's face froze in an expression of despair. The certainty in my voice had gotten through to her for a moment. "You're the first person in this world to whom I've told the truth!"
It was only when the words left my mouth that I realized just how much this conversation was affecting me emotionally. Hours before, I had killed countless people with my own two hands, and I felt nothing. What was wrong with me?
"It's impossible," Helen said, though she seemed much less certain now. "How could you possibly be brain damaged enough to suffer complete amnesia without also losing the ability to pilot a Zaku or speak with correct grammar?"
"Who knows?" I asked rhetorically. The answer was, of course, that I wasn't brain damaged. The truth was far stranger. Either way, it was true that I didn't know the names of my parents.
Helen collapsed to the floor and began sobbing. My face tightened with effort as I had to strain to stop my eyes from watering. She obviously cared about me, so I couldn't stop myself from caring about her to some extent.
"Sorry," I said as I lit up a cigarette and went upstairs.
I walked upstairs and entered a bedroom with a single queen bed and a large drawer for clothes. The original Dogwood liked to wear jeans, collared shirts, and plaid or leather jackets. All of the men's clothes held within were exactly like the clothes I owned in my previous life.
After a few minutes of packing, Helen entered the bedroom. I could tell that she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but she had managed to remain somewhat functional with great effort.
"Wh-What now?" Helen asked.
"What do you mean?" I said in response.
"Should I move back in with my parents? I'm not sure they'd let me come back after everything. M-Maybe I could…"
"I assume we share an account. You can keep living off my salary. I won't need it where I'm going," I said.
"You're still the same person. Right, Sebastian?" Helen said quietly.
"That's debatable," I muttered, looking over at the pile of clothes sitting on the bed. "Well, actually, maybe I am."
Every character trait I had learned about the original Dogwood was eerily similar to one from my previous life. He was a smoker, he was on the same medications as me, and he looked just like me. If I had been born in Zeon, I could definitely imagine my life moving in that direction.
"Even if you don't remember me, I still love you, Sebastian," Helen said. "If it's just your memory that you lost, then can't we just start over?"
By all accounts, I should have denied her. I should have left her with a clean break and let her use my money to put her life back together. Instead, a base human instinct to be loved even though I knew I didn't deserve it pushed me to say something foolish.
"Maybe. Who knows?"