Episode 6 – Ghosts of the Past.

Chapter 1 – Heartburn.

As a catastrophe began brewing in his heart, Snake found himself hiding in Meryl's closet inside of a cardboard box with a flashlight in one hand and her diary in the other. She had been keeping it since before she had moved in with him and had provided a lot of colorful commentary regarding the surreal comedy their lives had become. He was clearly invading her privacy, but Snake didn't feel very guilty about it. This was a great way to learn what she didn't want to tell him. It didn't help that she had hidden it in her underwear drawer. She should have known that he would have been in there while he was putting her laundry away, so technically it wasn't entirely his fault that he had found it.

Her heartwarming misadventures were typically updated every Friday and she could turn a trip to the beauty salon into a riveting opera. Some pages smelled faintly of whatever lotion she had been wearing at the time of her entry. Her handwriting was impeccable and accurately reflected her strict demeanor.

September 6th - I can barely keep my hand steady. While buying groceries, Revolver Ocelot walked passed me and started using the self-checkout kiosk to my immediate left. He asked me how I had been and when I did not respond he pretended that I had and kept talking to himself about how expensive food was getting since the world has so many mouths to feed. I should have given him a lobotomy with the screwdriver I was buying, but I was so shocked that I couldn't move. When I talked to Otacon about this, he said that he already knew. I wonder if David knows? I wonder if he cares.

At the time, Snake had been living in seclusion until the lack of human contact had finally caused him to start hallucinating. Nobody knew that the reason he decided to get out and socialize a bit more had to do with the fact that his dogs had started talking to him. He intended to carry that secret to his grave.

October 14th - Ocelot had the audacity to invite everyone to dinner. He collects torture instruments and western memorabilia. They do not go very well together. While we were eating a duck that had a tangy zap to it, he implied that he is protecting all of us right now. Whenever somebody asked him an important question, he dodged it. The highlight of the evening was when a mercenary appeared and cut off his hand. It's a good thing that he still has enemies. Ocelot also misplaced a flash drive that might tell us what's really going on around here.

The flash drive had contained information stating that Big Boss was still alive. Instead of being honest, Otacon and Snake had told everybody that they had only found porn on it.

October 21st - So someone burned my apartment down. I'm lucky this journal survived. Ocelot must have had something to do with this! How did he manage to hire somebody from the hospital he's staying at? When I went up to squeeze the truth out of him, he called David for help. I'm pretty sure David knows something I don't because I can't figure out why he didn't give Ocelot's neck a sharp twist to the left. To make matters worse, he put Liquid's hand on again. I heard that didn't work out very well for him the last time he did that. I still don't know what Ocelot wants with us. On a lighter note, David took me in until I can find another place to live.

While it was only supposed to be for a few weeks, Meryl had been living with Snake for almost two months. He hadn't counted on getting used to having her around. If she were out there by herself, she would only cause trouble for Ocelot, which had a weird way of affecting everyone.

November 11th - Ocelot flipped out and tried to kill Snake because he thought he was Liquid. The worst part of this whole ordeal is that I can see why we let him live. I am beginning to understand how little killing Ocelot would solve and it makes me sick to my stomach. I am also starting to think that Ocelot brought back Raven because he throws such good parties. I can't see any other reason why he would have gone through the trouble of reviving him.

Nobody bought the fact that Liquid could control Ocelot simply by being a part of his body. There was a rumor going around that Ocelot had once let it slip that his father was a psychic medium and that he may have passed some of that down to him. If that was true, Snake hoped that Ocelot never had to receive donated organs.

November 27th - He didn't tell me that a drone was circling above our house. He didn't tell me that the Patriots spiked our water supply with a strain of nanomachines that targeted local blood donors and made them act like their favorite fictional characters. He didn't tell me how he was worried about FOXDIE or that he quit his job for a day when he found out that Mantis sells psychedelics to earn extra money. He must have thought I wasn't in danger. That's laughable. A drone was above our house! There's probably a couple of photographs of me in the shower on the Pentagon's private FTP server. Arguing with him is pointless and revenge would be petty, so there is nothing that I can do but smile and nod. This week sucked. Maybe that party he's planning will make me feel better.

That had been rather amusing. Snake had been in a situation where he could do nothing to help anybody. He preferred to forget it. Snake had finally reached this week's heavily anticipated episode. He would have shivered with delight, but he was crammed into the box so tightly that doing so would cause him to burst out of it.

November 29th - That party at Otacon's was nothing special. It was interesting to watch everyone try to figure out who could field strip an M9 the fastest after eight shots of vodka. David won. Ocelot wasn't very talkative. He had already said everything he needed to say two days earlier. I suspect that party had something to do with him ruining everything in the near future since David was so keen on making sure that everyone was at Otacon's house.

The Silverburgh Chronicles had concluded. There wasn't much to reflect on since her insight had been pretty much what he had expected it to be. Meryl was just as confused as he was, but she handled it in a different manner. It was impossible to predict what would happen next. For now, Snake was content to remain nestled inside the safety and warmth of Meryl's box where it smelled like fresh linen with a faint hint of sweat.

His moment of respite did not last long. It was interrupted by the sound of his dogs barking as somebody walked through the front door of his house. Their uproar ended quickly and they went back to their usual hijinks, which included freaking out when snow fell off the roof, sliding around on the ice in the driveway, and having staring contests with one another. If he ever decided to go mushing again, his dogs would need a lot of work.

Meryl was the only other person who had a key to his place. She had been out buying groceries when Snake had infiltrated her bedroom. He hadn't expected her to get back so quickly. Just as he was about to pop out of the box, he heard the sound of water splashing on the surface of the container he had jammed himself into. He peered through the slit of the corrugated shelter and spotted one dog leg. The other leg was raised up over the top of the box. Without having to see the rest of the animal, Snake knew it was Reece. Out of all his dogs, Reece was the worst. Snake was so enraged that the only noises he could make were tiny clicks and frenzied grunts.

Reece was lucky that he was not marking a box that Snake had acquired on a mission. While those certainly had more value due to their rarity, Meryl's box was special in its own little way because he believed that it was a part of her. Snake heard Meryl ascending the stairs. She was going to stop by her room, hang up her coat, put away her shoes, and exchange her jeans for some sweats before she put away all the goodies she had bought with his credit card. Reece hadn't shown any signs of stopping. Snake was trapped. He heard Meryl gasp and groan in frustration when she entered her room.

"Bad dog! Stop that!" Meryl shouted.

Reece quit relieving himself long enough to turn around and do it again with the other leg raised. Meryl grabbed Reece by his collar and dragged him out of the room while calling him dirty names that he had come to recognize and respond to. This didn't alleviate his bladder. He kept going. While Meryl was heading down the steps, Snake slipped out of the box and stuffed her diary back where he had found it in her underwear drawer. Unless she had been clever enough to hide a strand of hair in the first few pages, she wouldn't know that he had looked at it.

Snake collected the empty laundry basket he had left on her bed, exited her room, and began descending the stairs when an intense case of heartburn overwhelmed him. During breakfast, he had consumed two cinnamon rolls and a cup of Irish coffee. Normally they mixed. There sudden conflict did not worry him until the pain spread to his right arm and he became short of breath.

He was not experiencing indigestion. The time had finally come. His luck had run out. FOXDIE had activated. His day was ruined. Being as fit as he was, he could not imagine how else he could be experiencing a heart attack. Snake dropped the laundry basket and sat down on the stairs before he fell down them. With the strength he had left, he climbed up the stairs on all fours and crawled back into Meryl's room. He pushed himself into her bathroom and pulled himself to his knees in front of her sink. Snake reached for the medicine cabinet, which seemed miles away. Aspirin seemed unlikely to help, but it was worth a try.

The enormity of the situation was readily apparent to him. He was dying and no amount of ducking behind corners and eating rations in the middle of the fight was going to save him. For the first time in years, he was terrified, but the pain he was in made it difficult to appreciate his delicate emotions.

This was not supposed to be happening. Ocelot needed him alive as much as everybody else needed him alive. If he could not manage to survive, he figured that Meryl would take his passing the hardest and deal with her grief by rejoining the military. Otacon would lose his only true friend. Campbell wouldn't have anyone else he could lie to that would forgive him so easily. Raiden would try even harder to emulate him. Reece would wind up being euthanized because nobody else would put up with him. Ocelot would laugh and order another clone of Big Boss the same way he'd buy a grape Slurpee from 7-Eleven.

Naomi had been getting closer to a cure. At least that's what she kept saying. Snake had to believe her since the alternative involved wallowing in misery. He couldn't allow FOXDIE to beat him. Snake finally managed to get the medicine cabinet open and pulled out the shelf that contained a bottle of Ibuprofen. By this time, he had beat Liquid's personal score, but he could still feel a blackout edging closer to him. Snake managed to swallow a couple of pills and then decided that dying underneath a cardboard box was much better than underneath Meryl's loofah in her shower surrounded by seven different bottles of shampoo.

He had to get to her box before she saw him like this, but he had greatly underestimated how much strength he had left. Meryl entered the room just as he reached her bed.

"What are you doing?" Meryl demanded. "Did you leave your bandanna in my room again because you forgot to separate it when you were folding clothes? Honestly, Dave."

Snake managed to prop himself up against the wall as the attack continued to assault him. Meryl sensed that something was amiss and immediately became concerned.

"Hey, are you okay?" Meryl asked.

"I'm fine." Snake replied in a high squeak.

The pain abruptly began to feel less intense. Just as quickly as FOXDIE began, it ended. Nausea and disorientation were all that remained. For a brief second, Snake was sure that he had died. Meryl sighed and crossed her arms.

"How drunk are you right now? You have been drinking an awful lot lately," Meryl said.

It came as a relief that she thought he was only intoxicated. Snake nodded in agreement, but said nothing. His recent spike in the consumption of alcohol had a lot to do with Naomi's inability to help him. The Patriots were also growing stronger. They were scheduled to receive an upgrade according to a conversation he had overheard Ocelot having when he had snuck into his backyard with a couple of EMP bombs that he had used to destroy all of the electronics in his house.

Snake climbed into Meryl's bed and buried his face into a pillow. His heart felt like somebody had driven a stake through it. Each beat produced a small amount of pain as it slowly returned to its normal routine. The fact that he was still alive at this point was a miracle. FOXDIE hadn't been designed to leave someone alive after it had activated, but Naomi had mentioned that it had changed since she had injected him with it the last time they had talked about it. He needed to give her a call and see if she had an update on that. He would also politely request that she work on that new vaccine just a little quicker.

He realized that the attack had been brought on by an elevated level of stimulation. That seemed to be how it killed. Whenever someone got too excited about something, FOXDIE kicked in and ruined the mood.

"What's wrong with you? Wait a minute. Did you just. . ."

Meryl trailed off as she realized that she didn't smell booze on Snake and could see that he was covered in a cold sweat.

"David, was that FOXDIE?" Meryl demanded.

"No, of course not." Snake replied, out of breath. "I'm just practicing in case I ever have to fake my death in the field. How was I? Were you convinced?"

"Come over here and say that to me."

Snake accepted her challenge. Getting out of bed and taking two steps had never been quite so difficult before, but he managed to move without stumbling. Meryl looked him over as he stood before her.

"Why are you sweating?" Meryl asked.

"I just finished exercising."

"So why are you in my room?"

"I need a nap."

"Don't you have your own bedroom for that?"

"It's my house, Meryl."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Do you think you can take care of that mess on the floor first?"

His attention was led back to the box in her closet. There was no point in making it suffer any further. It had to be euthanized, but putting down a box was something that he could not do.

"Yes, but you have to burn the Meryl Box for me."

"The what?" she asked.

"You won't be able to get the smell out and she needs to be put out of her misery."

It was foolish to expect anyone else to appreciate cardboard as much as he did. He knew it was weird, but his fetish was uncontrollable. Meryl could not offer him sympathy for the great loss that he had just experienced, but she at least offered him a hug, which he accepted. The warmth of her bosom temporarily abated his sadness and helped heal his damaged heart tissue. Their embrace only lasted for a moment.

"How have you ever managed to move out of one place and into another without adding anything to your collection?" Meryl asked.

"Boxes can be recycled. They always have a purpose. Even when they are battered beyond use, they can be recycled into a new box."

"Can the Meryl box be recycled?" Meryl asked.

"No. It's a special box. It deserves to ascend to a higher plane of reality."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I wish. We never had this discussion."

"I understand. You mentioned that you wanted me to burn the Meryl box. Does this mean you'll let me use your flamethrower?"

"Of course. Go nuts."

Meryl nodded. She pulled the box out of the closet and grimaced in a manner that used all the muscles in her face as a little bit of urine trickled down the box and onto the carpet. Meryl groaned as she hurried out the room. The second she strapped on the flamethrower, her demeanor would change as the pyromaniac within her was allowed to surface.

Snake temporarily ignored his chore and ran into his bedroom. He raided his bedside table for the opiates he had been prescribed. Snake grabbed three of them and wished that he had scrounged around for more diazepam during the Shadow Moses Incident as he swallowed his cocktail dry. He had left his cell phone on his dresser to charge overnight and discovered that it had fallen behind it for some reason. Snake pulled it back and spotted the copy of Dark that Otacon had lent him. He gasped and recoiled as memories of watching it, hiding it, and not saying anything about it to Otacon resurfaced. Snake was certain that he had stashed it behind his refrigerator and could not even begin to imagine how it had gotten into his bedroom. He grabbed his cell phone and left the DVD where he had found it since Otacon didn't need it in his collection.

Not a single text message or voicemail was waiting for him when he turned on his phone. The world was oblivious to his plight. Snake ran into his living room and took a peak outside the window. As expected, Meryl was shooting bursts of flame into the air as a blizzard raged around her. Snake didn't dare look towards where he thought she had placed the box. He grabbed a bottle of vinegar and a container of baking soda from the kitchen. While on the way to Meryl's room, he fetched a towel from the hallway closet.

After his task had been completed, he made his way into his basement. Meryl had stepped back inside and was busy sorting food in the kitchen, but stopped long enough to check on him as he made his way down the steps. Almost everything Snake owned was on the main floor of his house. The basement was a barren maze of cold rooms. Laundry was done in the utility room. A large safe containing a bug out bag was in the living room across from a bookshelf that held movies, books, and video games that he regretted purchasing.

Snake opened his inventory. STUPID PHONE WITH A REDICULOUS CONTRACT was the only item that appeared along with a short description he had read at least a thousand times. Too powerful to fall into the wrong hands was what the transparent window proclaimed. Snake fumbled as he took the phone out of his pocket. It fell to the floor. He picked up his phone and swatted away the pesky bold letters that appeared above where it had been immediately after he touched it. The next cut-scene was triggered without the interruption of a disc read error. Snake hated those.

He went through his contact list, found Naomi, and dialed her number. Her voice mail instantly popped up. Snake's personal measure of his own wellbeing quickly dropped from depressed to wrecked, which was the lowest possible level he could be at and still manage to function properly. The only other person he could think to call was Campbell, but the line was busy. Snake stood up and punched his safe in a brief spurt of pure rage. He regretted his childish outburst and turned a further shade of red in embarrassment as blood leaked out from the knuckles on his right hand. The pain in his chest spiked, but remained beneath where it had been during his heart attack.

"Snake!" Meryl called down to him from upstairs. "Naomi's on the phone. She wants to talk to you. She says it's important."

Somewhere, a kitten died in the street. So did a shred of Snake's soul.

"Tell her to call me on my cell phone," Snake said.

A minute went by. Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins played as the ring tone he had assigned to Campbell played. Snake took the call.

"What?" he demanded.

"Snake, it's me," Naomi said. "I'm over at Campbell's house. You are on speakerphone. We have to talk."

Snake's hand began trembling, but he managed to keep his voice composed.

"What happened to your phone? I tried to call you," Snake said.

"I broke it in my lab last night. I haven't gotten the chance to grab a replacement quite yet. I don't have a landline, so I had to come over to Campbell's house and use his phone."

"Why did you call Meryl before you called me?" Snake asked.

"I couldn't get a hold of you. Something must be wrong with your phone. Snake, I don't quite know how to say this properly so I'll just be blunt with you."

"I know, Naomi. I just got done dealing with it."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb," Snake lowered his voice substantially. "This is about FOXDIE, isn't it?"

"No, it's not about that. I saw Big Boss today. He was buying a bunch of Lunchables. There is no doubt in my mind that it was him."

"You mean this has nothing to do with that virus you infected me with?"

"Not at all. Why? Did something happen?"

"Yes, I had a FOXDIE attack today. At least that's what I think it was. It sure didn't feel like anything else!" Snake explained in a hurried whisper.

Naomi fell silent. Snake checked the stairwell to make sure that Meryl wasn't hanging around at the top of the steps. The coast was clear.

"Have you made any progress with Aglaophotis?" Snake asked.

"You're not the least bit worried about Big Boss?"

Snake took a deep breath as spots began dancing in front of his eyes.

"You have gotten closer to killing me than he ever did!" Snake said. "Talk to me about that vaccine, Naomi."

"I haven't made much progress. I figured out how to make Aglaophotis lighter on the body of the person taking it without sacrificing its effectiveness. If you take it, you won't have to worry about diarrhea or nausea. I also now know why FOXDIE is so hard to get out of you. Your circulatory system is making cells that have traces of FOXDIE in them."

Snake felt a little dizzy and had to sit down in a corner for a moment.

"It would appear that certain types of nanomachines can cause the body to naturally replicate them if they are left inside the circulatory system for too long," Naomi said. "This is particularly a problem with first generation nanomachines."

"My body is literally killing itself because it's too stupid to realize what it's doing," Snake said.

"Our bodies have a habit of doing that."

He briefly wondered if looking at himself in the mirror and telling his bone marrow to stop acting like a jerk would help. Snake stood back up and began pacing the room again.

"You will give me what you have."

"Yes, I will. Today, in fact."

"So why am I not dead now? From what I saw, FOXDIE doesn't joke around."

"Your heart must be in good shape, which is a small wonder since you are a clone and you smoke regularly."

All the extra time he had invested into cardio had actually paid off. Snake heard a beep on the line.

"It looks like Ocelot is trying to call me," Campbell said. "I'm going to put him on the line with us."

"Where is that filthy harlot?" Liquid demanded, his voice as British as ever.

"Ocelot, I thought Snake went over this with you," Campbell said. "The only reason you think that you are Liquid is because you are psychotic. It would probably be a good idea to see Mantis."

"You should get a new hand, Ocelot," Snake said, unwilling to squander an opportunity to provoke Liquid and cause Ocelot great mental anguish.

"Where is Naomi? Do either of you know?" Liquid demanded.

"I'm right here."

"Good! Guess what happened to me today while I was having tea. Go on. Guess!"

"You realized that you're going to look much older than everybody else at your high school reunion," Snake said.

"I had a FOXDIE attack! How did this happen? Ocelot was not on the list!"

"Your blood mixed with Liquid's when you put his hand on," Naomi explained. "Snake must have infected you again."

"What?" Ocelot screamed. "I should have known that this is what he intended to do to me!"

Ocelot had to be referring to the mysterious person that had paid off a doctor to sew Liquid's hand to the stump just above his wrist. Ocelot had kept Liquid's arm in a canister in his attic due to its sentimental value. Someone had broken into his house, stolen the canister, and given it to the doctor that had operated on Ocelot.

"Liquid, who is Ocelot talking about?" Snake asked, trying to catch Ocelot off guard.

"I'm sure if you think about it hard enough you will figure it out," Liquid said. "Naomi, please tell me you have something that will help us. Ocelot has a butcher knife in his hand right now and I am feeling quite nervous."

"Just chop off your bad hand. You're going to get rid of it eventually, aren't you?" Snake asked.

"You have no idea what that feels like," Ocelot said.

"It would be over with before you know it."

"Don't listen to him!" Liquid shouted. "Can we please get back on topic? Naomi! Naomi, are you there?"

"Yes!" Naomi exclaimed. "Please try to calm down. It could just be Ocelot's cholesterol level. I can't say for certain that it was FOXDIE unless I see your blood."

"What if it is?"

"Then I have something that will help."

"That sounds rather vague. Haven't you managed to cure it yet?"

Naomi had to swallow her guilt before continuing.

"No," she said.

"What? Are you serious? What have you being doing in your spare time? You recently dealt with something that was a lot like it. Did that not help?" Ocelot demanded.

"Was it supposed to?" Naomi asked.

"Yes," Liquid interjected. "You see it was all part of Ocelot's pretentious – "

There was a tremendous commotion over the line as Ocelot fought with himself in his kitchen. Counters were slammed into, plates were broken, and Snake could swear that Ocelot stuck his right hand into his refrigerator and slammed it in the door a couple of times.

"You win, I won't say one more word!" Liquid shouted.

"Ocelot, will you please tell the voice inside your head to calm down?" Roy asked.

"Will you idiots quit antagonizing me?" Ocelot demanded from across the road, confirming that he had them on speaker phone. "You're going to give me another heart attack!"

"I read a study once where mentally unstable people would hum to get the voices in their heads to shut up. Can you carry a tune, Ocelot?" Snake asked, ignoring Ocelot's plea.

"Let me talk," Naomi insisted. "You both can take Aglaophotis, but there are some side effects. It will increase how much you sweat, so it is very important that you stay fully hydrated after an injection. You will also find yourself urinating continuously for a few minutes when the urge hits."

"You said you made the side effects less serious," Snake said.

"Yes, I got rid of the explosive diarrhea."

"That is a major improvement," Ocelot admitted.

"How often can it be taken?"

"The dose I have measured can be administered three times in a twenty four hour period."

"What if I'm having a really bad day?" Snake asked.

"A fourth dose would almost certainly send your body into shock. As I said before, Aglaophotis works by stopping all nanomachine activity in your blood. It then tells your system to flush them out of your body. You need to make sure that you are staying hydrated if you are taking it. At three doses, you will need to drink sixteen ounces of water to compensate for the fluid you will lose."

"I see. Three shots is your recommended amount," Snake said.

"That's correct. There are a few things I'd like to add, so please don't interrupt me quite yet. In theory, it can stop a FOXDIE attack the moment it enters your bloodstream, but that won't change the fact that you just had a heart attack. Your heart will still take damage."

"Would it be safe to assume that it will eventually flush all traces of FOXDIE out of my system?"

"Possibly."

"I would end reality itself at the expense of everything in the universe to wipe out every last trace of your existence," Liquid said. "That's how much I hate you."

"That's really harsh," Snake said. "Naomi, don't give him anything unless he apologizes."

"Say you're sorry right now!" Ocelot demanded.

"I couldn't care less what Liquid thinks about me. I am more interested in Ocelot's health. Particularly his mental health," Naomi said.

"Shut up! I have been meaning to get Liquid taken care of, but I have been very busy lately. We shouldn't even be talking about him! Naomi, I assume you have some serum already cooked up, right?"

"Yes."

"Can I get some of it today?

"I was going to bring what I have to Snake's house. You could meet me there."

"Have you looked outside in the past hour?" Snake asked Naomi. "Your Audi won't last five minutes out here."

"The two of you come over to my house," Ocelot said. "I have a vehicle that will make it through those country roads."

"Surely you can't be talking about your Tornado," Snake said.

"No. This is something different. Something new. Besides, I want the potions first. How many bottles do you have, Naomi?"

"Six."

"Only six?!"

"That's one better than five," Snake said.

"I had hoped that I would have had a chance to bring this up in a more relaxed environment, but I might as well tell both of you right now that Snake's generous contribution to my personal finances has dried up. I am also having issues with the people shipping me materials."

"I'll take care of that," Ocelot said.

"Okay. What information do you need from me?"

"Nothing, I already have all of it, I just haven't bothered to read it. Get over here immediately. Goodbye."

Ocelot hung up.

"Now, about Big Boss," Campbell began. "I hope you realize that if he's not in a base somewhere now, then he's planning on being in a base sometime soon."

"What do you want me to do about it? Shoot him?"

"You are authorized to use hostile force against him."

Snake blinked. He could have said that in a different manner, but he had intentionally left it open to interpretation.

"Who is giving me this authorization?" Snake asked.

"I think we should talk more about it in person," Campbell replied.

"Fine. Be careful around Ocelot," Snake said.

"I think I might have been able to infer that based on the brazen bull in his living room, but thanks for caring," Campbell said.

Snake hung up. His thoughts were immediately plagued by Big Boss. He always knew that if Big Boss were still alive after their last encounter they would wind up seeing each other again at some point in the future. Whether or not his visit would be friendly remained to be seen, but Snake didn't think his father and former commanding officer would be happy to see him after their last little squabble was settled with fire. Snake would have cremated him and kept his ashes if he had known any better, but that might not have been enough since someone who was truly dedicated could have found a skin flake or a toenail clipping somewhere and popped out another copy of Big Boss.

All Snake could do now was wait. He felt a little guilty about being ugly to Naomi, but he could make that up to her later. He couldn't decide whether to tell Meryl about these new developments in his life. For now, all he could do was engage in whatever hobby he felt inclined to waste his time with until everyone arrived. Meryl was not waiting for him at the top of the steps just behind the door. Instead, she was on his couch covered in a blanket and reading a copy of Lucid Dreams by Celia Greene.

"What's wrong? You've got that look on your face again," Meryl said.

"Which one?" Snake asked.

Meryl furrowed her brow and tightened the muscles in her neck, causing her veins to pop out. She curled back her lips in a pained expression that exposed half of the lower row of her teeth. The expression was overly emphasized, but it did convey a serious message.

"Campbell, Naomi, and Ocelot will be stopping by," Snake said. "We're going to try and figure out how to get Otacon off of his MMORPG's."

Meryl gagged, but bought the lie Snake had made up on the spot. It wasn't a complete fib since Otacon had indeed been preoccupied with a computer game that was starting to make him even more socially awkward because he couldn't go ten minutes without thinking about the gear his character carried, but Snake still felt awful. Snake headed into the room where he kept the cardboard boxes he had collected during his previous escapades. He had recently added a Bose stereo system to his private museum. Five CD's were stacked on top of it. Snake chose one labeled Desert Noises and put it inside the CD player. The sound of wind sweeping across the sand in the middle of a summer night flooded the room. Snake then quickly dove under the box he had taken from Zanzibar and began to sweat.