* * *

   At Darlene's place, Sylvie was trying to explain to Sylia _why_ she
hadn't told the Sabers about Edward until now. Sylia, Nene, Linna, and
Darlene took it surprisingly well. Priss was another matter entirely.

   "YOU KNEW?? You KNEW he was the vigilante and you didn't tell me?!" she
shouted. "I _told_ you I wanted to get back for what he did to me! Why
didn't you let me know?"

   Surprisingly, it was Anri who defused Priss' temper. "We didn't tell you
for the same reason we don't tell our other friends that you are a Knight
Saber.

   Priss was taken aback. "Huh? I don't .."

   "You trust us to keep your secrets, Priss. And we have. Edward trusted us
to do the same. And we did."

   "But it's not the same! It's.. ahh.. uhm.." Priss flushed a deep red.
"It's just different," she ground out.

   "If we can't be trusted to keep one secret, we can't be trusted to keep
_any_ secrets, Priss," Anri said quietly. "Trust is an all or nothing
situation."

   Darlene put a hand on Priss' shoulder. "Priss, I'm angry too, but Anri is
right. It _is_ a matter of trust. He trusted them to keep his secret, even
from their own friends. Just as you trust them. They can't break that trust
simply because you might find it convenient."

   "OOOOH... DAMN! I'm going to go riding." With that, she stomped out.

   Sylia watched her go, then turned to the sexaroids. "She'll get over it.
You were right, and she knows it. But her pride won't let her admit to it
right now. She'll come back, after she works it out." Her eyes narrowed.
"Now.. as trust and secrecy are no longer an issue here, I need you to tell
me all that you know about Mr. Edwards."

   "Mr. Becerra, actually," said Anri sadly. "That was his real name. I'd
better get us all something to drink. It's a long story."

   The Sabers nodded, and everyone took a seat, while Anri went for some
refreshments.

                                   * * *

   Minerva had left to cloth herself. Ed, on the other hand, had a death
grip around the neck of a bottle of single-malt scotch, and nothing short of
total obliteration was going to make him let go.

   T'was a pity he couldn't get drunk, anymore.

   *What do I do now? I've royally screwed up things in Mega-Tokyo, Minerva
is flesh and blood now, and it's very likely that Darlene wants my head on a
plate. Although, as fights go, that would be an.. _interesting_ one, to say
the least.* he thought. *We _both_ possess nearly unlimited power. However,
both psionically and magically, Twister is oriented for offence. He knows
what he's doing, too. He's trained himself in the use of his psychic powers
and from what I've read, Professor Miyabi's trained him in the use of magic.
My abilities seem more defensive in nature, and I have absolutely NO idea
what I'm doing, or how the hell I'm doing it!*

   A pair of warm hands caressed his shoulders, rubbing the tension away.
"Thinking black thoughts again, love?"

   "Just... musing, pretty lady." He set the bottle down carefully. "More 
important, how are _you_ holding up? This has to be as much a shock for you
as my accident was for me!"

   She smiled, the joy in her face lighting up the room. "It's _very_
strange, but it's also very wonderful, b'wana. I just tried my first drink
of water! Now I understand the human obsession with taste. I want to try
everything!"

   He smiled and hugged her. "I understand, love. It must be very different
from using the holo-emitters to simulate a solid form." He took one of her
hands in his and marveled over the warm flesh. "But there are things we have
to see to, first."

   She blinked at him, worried. "You're not planning on anything stupid, are
you?"

   "I made a mess there, m'dear. Now I have to clean that mess up. We
already _have_ the co-ordinates for Twister's version of Bubblegum Crisis.
We're going back."

   "Lover.. you are just too noble for words."

   He laughed. "Noble? More like too terminally stupid, Minerva."

   She kissed him on the nose. "Noble is as noble does, boss. A stupid
person would simply skip out on this. Which you are _not_." She laughed, as
he blushed, then her face twisted in concentration. "We'll be ready to
rotate in just a few minutes, b'wana."

   "Thank you, pretty lady." He began to change, removing the ruined
clothing he'd worn in the 'Mech. "If I'm going to do this, I might as well
look presentable."

   Minerva's eyes went wide. "Boss? There's something distinctly odd,
here..."

   "So what _else_ is new?" He rolled his eyes. "What is it _this_ time?"

   "The co-ordinates..? They've already been set. And I didn't do it."

   They both glanced uneasily at the staff embedded in the floor. Ed finally
shrugged. "I guess Valanna has me figured out already. Or else there's a
lesson still waiting for me to learn, back there." He slipped into a fresh
shirt, hanging the scorched one on the staff so he wouldn't have to look at
it. "No use fighting the inevitable, girl. And no sense in it, either. Go
ahead and rotate."

   "Right, love. Rotating..."

                                   * * *

   "The way to fight a woman is with your hat. Grab it and run."
      - John Barrymore

   "...t'were done, then t'were well it were done quickly..."
      - Shakespeare, `Macbeth', Act I, scene vii

   The fire trucks and police vehicles had left some hours ago, most of the
sidewalk gawkers had long since gone home. So there was no one present to
witness the sudden shaft of light that appeared inside the gutted first
floor of `Rare Books'. When it faded, Ed took a look around, seeing the
water and foam soaked ruins. He clenched a fist, suddenly furious.

   *Quincy won, damn him. He won this round.*

   {Don't go there, boss. It'll just make you crazy again. Please.}

   He nodded. {I won't, pretty lady. But somewhere, somewhen.. Quincy is
going to get his. As you've told me before.. I've got eternity on my side.
I can afford to wait. Quincy's going to learn that, to his regret.}

   He slowly made his way around the burnt remains of books lying on the
floor, and eased his way over to the door. Ducking under the yellow crime
scene tape, he stepped out into the street.

   {Baby? If I can manage to pull this off without the Sabers trying to tear
my head off, I want you to see if there's a range limit to what Valanna's
given you. If there isn't... then I'd like you to come down and join us.}

   He felt a warm smile inside his head. {Thank you, boss.} Then he squared
his shoulders, screwed up his courage, and started down the block to
`Flights of Fantasy'.

                                   * * *

   Priss' curiosity had gotten the better of her anger, and after a quick
spin around the neighborhood on her bike, had returned from her ride, and
was listening as raptly as the rest. As Darlene and the Sabers absorbed the
tale Sylvie told them, there came a knock at the door downstairs. Anri rose
and went downstairs to answer it. When she looked through the peephole, she
got a shock. She quickly unlocked the door and threw it wide.

   "ARE YOU CRAZY?! You can't come back here! _They're_ here right now.. and
so is _she_! It isn't safe for you!"

   "I didn't have any choice," replied Ed. "When I got to my ship, there was
someone waiting for me, Anri. An elf."

   She looked at his face. He didn't _look_ like he was joking. "Valann.."

   "SHHHH! Don't say that name!" He clapped a hand over her mouth. "Look,
there's something I _have_ to do, and if that means I have to let Darlene
& Company beat the crap out of me.. well.. then I _have_ to. It's out of my
hands, now. I think it's even out of the hands of the gods." He pulled his
hand away. "But there _IS_ something we can do to try and keep the shooting
from getting started in the first place. IF you're game."

   "I'll do anything I can to help you, Ed. You know that."

   He nodded. "Thank you." He reached under his coat and brought out a pair
of items. He kept the first, and handed the second to her. "Get the idea?"

   She shook her head. "You _did_ warn us you had a warped sense of humor.
Do you really think they'll buy this?"

   "Maybe not.. but at least they won't shoot first. It'll buy me a few
seconds of time.. and that may be all that I'll need." He looked at her
pleadingly. "I _have_ to do this, Anri. Please."

   "All right. But this has to be one of the looniest ideas I've ever heard
of." She nodded slowly, and he snapped the handcuffs around his own wrists.
Then they both started slowly up the stairs, Anri backing up them carefully,
holding a pistol on Ed.

                                   * * *

   In years to come, Ed would remember the expression on the faces of the
people in the room. He'd never seen as many long jaws in a single room in
his life. They didn't last for long, though. Darlene shot to her feet, her
hands glowing a bright purple. Priss's break-down gun appeared with a speed
that amazed him. He froze.

   *It's times like this I'm _very_ glad I'm bullet proof. I just hope that
I'm _Darlene_ proof. She looks.. oy! I wonder if it _hurts_ to be turned
into a toad?*

   Sylvie looked at the pistol in Anri's hands, confused. "Anri, what are
you doing?"

   "What Ed asked me to do."

   That earned her six confused looks. "_He_ asked you?"

   Anri nodded. "He put on the handcuffs himself."

   Ed broke into the conversation then. "I'd hoped that it would do what it
did. Buy me a moment to surrender. Without getting another fight started."

   The long jaws reappeared, and got even longer this time. Surprisingly,
Priss was the first to recover. She jumped up and began to stalk towards
him. "You're not gonna surrender, you bastard. Not yet. I haven't had a
chance to kick the shit out of you for making me look like a fool!"

   "Priss." The single word from Sylia carried an entire lecture in its
subtle tones. Her jaw clamped, and she returned to her seat. The expression
on her face was easy to read. It promised the world.. _This isn't over_.

   Ed turned towards Darlene. "Besides.. I didn't have a choice, thanks to
you."

   She looked at him oddly. "What do you mean by that?"

   "You.. or rather _Valanna_, showed up on my ship. Actually, she'd been
there for some time, from what she said. She .. did some things, and cast
some sort of spell on my ship. As well as one _hell_ of a spell on my ship's
ACI." Eyes in the room widened as he spoke, and he rubbed his forehead,
thinking of Minerva. "The spell you.. she cast on my ship was supposed to
take me where I _need_ to go, rather than rely on random chance. And the
first place it took me was right back here."

   "Time travel," said Darlene flatly.

   "Got it in one. Her exact words to me were.. 'I may not like time travel
much, but as I'm immune to paradox it has its uses at times.'" He looked
around the room for a chair. "May I please sit down?"

   She waved him towards a chair, and he cautiously sat. "I assume Sylvie
and Anri have already told you who and what I am?"

   Sylia nodded, intrigued. "I had already assumed that you are from a
reality where, like Darlene's, the Knight Sabers are fictitious beings. Is it
also true that Darlene herself is a fictional character in your native
universe?"

   Ed rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Yes. In point of fact, I even know the
person who wrote the stories collectively titled `Twisted Path', where I
first heard of Twister. I used to correspond with the author on a regular
basis, when I was just someone writing fan fiction on an internet mailing
list. Now I don't write fan fiction, I _AM_ fan fiction." He shook his head.
"Recursive - (adjective); see recursive. Arrrgh. I think I'm giving myself a
headache."

   "And you say Valanna appeared on your ship?"

   "Yes. She.. did some things I don't fully understand, then cast a spell
on my ship, the Calypso. She said it would keep me from wandering aimlessly,
and that from now on, I'd only arrive in realities where there was something
there for me to learn or do."

   "Why didn't she send you straight home?" asked Linna curiously. "She
probably could, from what we saw of Darlene in that form."

   "She offered to do exactly that, Linna. And reminded me that if _I_ could
find my way home.. so could those who are following me."

   Sylia's brows knitted together. "Who is following you?"

   "The Circle Oroboros, for one. The Oans, for another. And last, but NOT
least, I've got the Q after me. The first two seem to regard me as a threat
to meta-reality, due to something that I haven't done yet, but that I'm
supposed to do sometime in the distant future. The Q... well, _they_ simply
want to draft me."

   Darlene looked at him strangely. "The Q? As in Star Trek?"

   "Yup. They claim that, given my current nature, I belong with the
Continuum whether I like it or not." He sighed. "And she.. err.. you..
err.. _Valanna_ was right. I can't go home, as long as there are beings
willing to use it as a hostage against me. Not until I understand enough
of what I am to be able to defend both myself and my home from them."

   He glanced at Sylvie. "There's something else. Something that Minerva
would like to show you and Anri. But we'll need your permission."

   "What is it?" asked Anri.

   "I can't say.. you'll have to _see_ it to believe it." He shrugged. "I
didn't believe it, and I was there." He looked at the Sabers. "Look, I'm
_not_ trying to escape, or anything, so please hold off on the gunplay.
Okay?" He spread his arms, casually snapping the chain links holding the
cuffs together. Then he looked up at the ceiling. "Minerva? It's all right,
love. You can come on down, now."

   Sylia watched with interest as a shimmering column of blue light
manifested in the center of the room. A female form quickly took shape
within it. When it faded, a tall, elegant looking woman stood there, in a
jet black, low cut dress, slit high up the sides to show off her shapely
legs. The dress hung in tatters about her legs, but was clearly designed for
this effect. Her hair was as dark as her attire, and piled up high in a
cross between a sixties bouffant and an eighties punk spike. At the moment,
her face was made up in a way that would have made Cleopatra envious. A pair
of small silver earrings in the shape of adders dangled from her earlobes
and a jeweled dagger decorated her belt buckle.

   Sylvie blinked, recognizing the woman. "Minerva?!" She stepped over and
gently poked the newcomer. "You.. you're real! You're flesh!"

   Minerva nodded, and hugged Sylvie. "Valanna did this. She winked, there
was this flash of purple light, and suddenly I was in two places at once! I
was still part of the Calypso, _and_ I was sitting in Ed's lap, with a human
body!"

   Ed snorted. "Sitting _nude_ in my lap, with a human body." He glanced at
Darlene. "Don't take this the wrong way.. but in a few thousand years, I'm
gonna get you for surprising me like that."

   Sylia looked over at Minerva and said with a perfectly straight face, "I
see what you mean by 'some things you don't fully understand'."

                                   * * *

   On that note, the conversation broke up for a few moments as everyone in
the room paused for refreshments and a breath of fresh air. Anri hid a grin
as she noticed Ed carefully staying on the opposite side of the room from
Priss. Then Sylia nodded for everyone took their seats again, and she
motioned for Ed to continue.

   He looked at them, his shoulders sagging. "You know.. there's a very old
saying.. `When you're up to your ass in alligators, it's easy to forget that 
your original goal was to drain the swamp.'. I made the stupid mistake of
becoming wrapped up in the whole revenge thing. It's not as if Quincy could
have really hurt me. I lost sight of that fact that I was here only to try
and find a way home.

   Sylia's expression was a mixture of insight and cold compassion. "Losing
yourself to revenge is all too easy a mistake to make, Edward. So easy that
it's a cliche. However, that doesn't excuse what you've done."

   "I've been all kinds of fool in my time, but I'm not fool enough to think
that it would, Sylia. I have some hard choices here." He paused. "No. No, I
don't. Not really. `Debts must be paid.' I caused this entire mess by trying
to single-handedly settle up with Quincy. A stupid thing to try. Now I have 
to try to repair the damage I've done. Then... I'd best get the hell out of 
this reality before I make things worse."

   He spread his hands. "I can't trust my own judgement, at the moment, and
it's _your_ world I did the damage to. I realize it's a silly thing to say,
and a needless formality, but.. I surrender myself to you, the Knight
Sabers. I will abide by your judgement, whatever it may be." He glanced over
at Priss and grimaced. "Although I can guess what _her_ decision would be."

   The other women in the room laughed as Priss did a slow burn, Sylia
included.  Then she turned back to him, her mien sober again. "We're all 
capable of losing our judgement, Edward. All it takes is punching the 
correct emotional buttons. This isn't something that can be done in a snap 
decision. We ALL need rest and clear heads."

   Darlene nodded. "We need to sleep."

   Ed shrugged. "Works for me." He paused, thinking. "My apartment's still
full of smoke at the moment. I'd better sleep in my cabin aboard the Calypso
until I can get things cleaned up and aired out."

   Sylia frowned. "Actually, Edward, I'd like to talk to you about that..."

                                   * * *

   Sylvie passed by the bedroom door where they'd put Ed up for the night.
He'd protested, saying that it would be much simpler for him to return to
his cabin aboard the Calypso, but Sylia and Twister insisted that he remain
in Mega-Tokyo for the nonce. She could hear him tossing and turning rather
violently in the bed, and she started for the door when she heard a faint
humming noise. A sparkling light shimmered on the wall opposite the open
door, and Sylvie quietly crept to the bedroom door to see what was
happening.

   As she looked in the room, she noticed the beautiful raven-haired woman
she'd been introduced to earlier. *Minerva. That's her. Incredible.* She
shook her head, still amazed at the idea that Valanna had simply.. _created_
a living body from thin air. Then she noticed that Ed seemed to be in the
grip of a nightmare.

   She watched as Minerva approached the bed. Her sensitive ears could hear
him muttering a name repeatedly in his sleep. It sounded like Ailuro. She
didn't _like_ to eavesdrop but this seemed important.

   "Don't.. Aili.. please don't leave me.. don't leave me.. not again.."

   The computer turned flesh sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his
forehead gently, brushing the hair from his eyes. "I'm here, baby. Aili's
here," she whispered. "I won't leave you. I'll never leave you again. I
promise."

   He didn't wake, but his breathing calmed, and his violent motions slowed,
then stopped. Sylvie blushed and turned to go, embarrassed to intrude on
such a private moment, when she heard Minerva start to quietly sing.

   "Dream... dream, dream dream.., Dream... dream, dream dream..

    When I want you in my arms, When I want you and all your charms,
    Whenever I want you, all I have to do is 
    dream... dream, dream dream.

    When I feel blue in the night, and I need you to hold me tight,
    Whenever I want you, all I have to do is 
    dream... dream, dream dream.

    I can make you mine, taste your lips of wine, any time, night or day
    Only trouble is, Gee whiz, I'm dreaming my life away.

    I need you so that I could die, I love you so, and that is why
    Whenever I want you, all I have to do, is 
    dream... dream, dream dream.

    I can make you mine, taste your lips of wine, any time, night or day
    Only trouble is, Gee whiz, I'm dreaming my life away.

    I need you so that I could die, I love you so, and that is why
    Whenever I want you, all I have to do, is 
    dream... dream, dream dream.

    Dream... dream, dream dream, Dream... dream, dream dream..
    Dream... dream, dream dream.."

   Ed let out a tiny sigh, and relaxed. Minerva looked down at him and
whispered, "I'll never leave you, lover. I'll always be here for you.
Forever." She brushed the hair from his forehead one more time, then
carefully rose from the edge of the bed, and left the room. Still wondering
at what she'd just witnessed, Sylvie failed to notice her exit, and the two
women bumped into each other in the hallway.

   "Oh!" exclaimed Minerva. "I'm sorry. I'm still unused to having a human
body. I'm a little.. clumsy yet." Then her eyebrows drew together. "Why are
you here? Were you watching us?"

   Sylvie nodded towards the bedroom. "I heard Ed. He was having a
nightmare." She blushed slightly. "Does he know you love him?"

   Minerva nodded slowly. "Yes. And I know his heart belongs to someone
else." She looked away. "But.. she made him happy, Sylvie. I can't hate her.
Not when his memories of her are what keeps him going when everything else
fails him. Sometimes.. sometimes that's all he has left. Just his memories.
I can't take those away from him, Sylvie."

   Sylvie watched as a tear slowly started down the person's? computer's?
cheek. "What you need is some hot chocolate and a sympathetic ear, girl."
She took Minerva by the hand. "I have the ear, and there's plenty of the
former in the kitchen. Let's go."

   Behind them, in the bedroom, Ed had begun to dream again...

                    ***********************************
                    
   "I've lead a thousand lives, it seems.. there's been a lot of broken
    dreams."
      - The Monkees, _That Was Then, This Is Now_

   "Does the pain ever go away?" - Dick Grayson, Batman: The Animated Series

   Somewhere, somewhen else...

   The fight was fast and furious. But that didn't stop either of them from
taunting each other.

   "You've returned to your death, coyote. I am younger, stronger, faster!"
Their blades met with a loud clang.

   "Yeah. You smell worse, too! I should have insisted on mouthwash and a
shower before the fight. Ungh!" Kickaha grunted as he parried a swing from
the ax.

   Burning Stone screamed wordlessly, and delivered a stroke that could have
split a boulder. Kickaha danced aside, and the ghila hit nothing but the
sand at his feet.

   "Fool! I will make you suffer and die a thousand deaths!" screeched the
lizard.

   "Yep. Uh-huh. Right. Where'd you learn the bad dialog, 'Stone? Robotnik
giving classes in `How to Sound Like A Dramatic Villain 101'?"

   "Yaaaahhhhhhh!!!" shouted Burning Stone and he raced towards Kickaha, who
simply stepped aside and extended a foot. The ghila tripped and rolled to
the edge of the circle, barely avoiding crossing the line. Kickaha laughed.

   "Don't cross the line, 'Stone! I don't want the guards to kill you for
trying to leave the circle. I want that pleasure for _myself_!" He stood,
waiting for his opponent to rise. Instead, the lizard spat at him. A droplet
of the spit hit the bat'leth and sizzled, tarnishing the bright finish of
the steel. The guards surrounding the circle stirred. Stone noticed, and
froze.

   "No!," shouted Kickaha. "He's mine!" He shook the venom from his blade.
"Try that again, quvHa'wI, and I'll let them take you anyway. Now try and
fight as though you still had some honor left."

   "Honor is for fools and dreamers," hissed Burning Stone as he climbed to
his feet. "All that truly matters is ... power!" He charged Kickaha,
swinging his ax wildly. Their blades clashed.

   "Well, then, I think class is in session, lizard!" He parried a blow.
"Time to learn the facts of life!"

   "Lesson number one, 'Stone: Youth and enthusiasm will never win out over
old age and experience!" laughed the coyote. He blocked another swing of the
ax with his sword, then kicked Burning Stone in the groin with his
artificial leg. The was a muted `clang!' and the ghila dropped like a rock.

   *Clang?* thought Kickaha. *What the...?* He shook the thought from his
head and continued with the fight.

   "Lesson number two: Know your enemy!" He kicked the ax from the writhing
lizard's grip and out of the circle. "Lesson number three: Don't make me
angry!"

   "And lesson four," choked out the agonized ghila. "Never underestimate
me!" He rolled over suddenly and clamped his powerful jaws around Kickaha's
calf.

   There was a bright flash of lightning and a small explosion shook the
circle. Kickaha was thrown across the circle as smoke filled the ring. When
it cleared, the onlookers received a shock.

   Kickaha had struggled back to his feet, supporting his weight with his
bat'leth. The sparking, smoking wreckage of his bionic leg hung limply as he
hopped over to where Burning Stone lay.

   The ghila had bitten into the power supply for Kickaha's leg, and the
sudden, unexpected electrical discharge had revealed the truth. On the
ground, stripped of it's disguise by the power of the current, was a 'bot.
It twitched, jerking spasmodically. The electrical shock had done it serious
damage, causing it's own power supply to explode, ripping open it's chest.

   "...Burning Stone?" whispered Kickaha.

   "...yes... #SHRRK# ... damn you ... #BZZT# ...did this to ... #ZZAK# ...
get you ... #BZZK# ... Robotnik promised ... could reverse later ... #SPZAK#
... offered chance to ... #ZZOP# ... rule Pack ... #BRZZ# ... fulfill ...
#ZZZT# ... my destiny ..."

   The voice faded away.

   Kickaha had a horrified look on his face. "You hated me that much,
'Stone? Oh, Mother Earth! How could you do this to yourself? Did I hurt you
that deeply?" He began to shiver uncontrollably. Pyre rushed over and
grabbed him by the arm before he fell. He shrugged the wolf away.

   "Damn it, you idiot, you're in shock! You need help!"

   "Perhaps, old friend, but I have a job to finish first." He steadied
himself and raised his sword. "Now it ends, Burning Stone. May Mother Earth
and Father Sky be merciful in their judgement."

   The blade flashed downwards.

   Then Kickaha allowed himself to collapse.

                                   * * *

   Another time, another place...

   Planet Werthahekahwee, Deep Periphery, June, 3060 A.D.

   "Lieutenant Becerra!"

   "Yes, Sir?"

   "You just volunteered to do a forward recon of the Jade Falcon front
lines."

   He blinked. "I did sir? I don't remember.."

   "You volunteered five minutes ago. Is that clear, Leutenant?"

   He sighed. "Yes, Major. Skin, armor, or 'mech?"

   The officer behind the desk rattled some papers. "I see here that you
once served with the 1st Sommerset Strikers, and are current with both the
SLH-X1 Sloth combat armor and the IFR-X1 Infiltrator reconnaissance stealth
armor as well as with your battlemech. Due to a paperwork error *kaff-kaff*
you are the only person I have on planet at the moment who is."

   Ed nodded. "I'll take the Infiltrator suit, sir. If that's allowed." *And
three guesses whose error _that_ was, eh? You incompetent idiot. You're not
fit to command a kindergarten classroom.*

   Major Pedersen smiled. "That's what I had in mind, Lieutenant. It's being
rigged with extra sensors, recorders and memory modules at this very moment.
We want an in-depth scan of the Falcon emplacements and whatever you can get
on their support units, as well as any possible re-enforcements that may
have arrived. There are rumors that they've brought in several solahma units
to stiffen their front lines." The major frowned. "And you'd best be certain
to bring this mission off successfully. _MY_ promotion depends on it."

   "Yes, sir." *So you intend to take all the credit too. Figures. If it
weren't for the fact I've got friends out there on the front lines, I'd
bilge this mission and let you take the fall, you cowardly little REMF. Bet
you got your commission by way of Katrina Steiner's bed.*

   "If that will be all, sir?"

   "No. We suspect that the 1st Falcon Guards are here. Your orders are to
verify that. You will stay out there until you do." Major Pedersen nodded at
him. "Dismissed."

   Ed saluted and left. Eight hours later, he was dodging incoming fire from
both Jade Falcon forces and his own side. When he returned, Major Pedersen
demanded to personally debrief him. Thirty minutes after that, Lieutenant
Becerra had the transfer he wanted, and Major Pedersen had a broken jaw.

                                   * * *
   Yet another world...

   Denver, North American Protectorate, Earth, 2070 A.D.

   "I don't _care_ whether it can be done or not, Detective. I want it done
ANYWAY! Is that clear?" The police commissioner for the Denver metroplex
stared over the desk at her. "The UN Peaceforcers are on my back over this.
They want this `Erythrina' caught _now_."

   Detective Erin Mitchell yawned and ran her fingers through her waist
length, jade green hair. "If they want her that bad, why don't they catch
her themselves. Besides, she's just another net ghost. She hasn't hurt a
single innocent citizen. All she's done is embarrass Peaceforcers. She makes
them look like the jackasses that they are. And I'm all for that."

   "You won't be. They're sending a Peaceforcer Elite to oversee the
investigation."

   She stiffened in her chair. "A cyborg? Why?"

   "Because they've finally had enough, Detective. An Elite cyborg has the
authority to cut Denver off from the net."

   Mitchell went grey under her facial tattoo. "They can't do that! It would
crash the city! Thousands of innocent people would suffer!"

   "The Peaceforcers don't care about that, Detective. They're called
Peaceforcers for a reason. They don't care about justice, or innocence, or
anything but enforcing the peace." The tired commissioner rested his head in
his hands. "They've officially defined this Erythrina as a threat to
themselves, and technically, that makes her a threat to world peace. That
allows them to do anything they like, Officer Mitchell. When it comes to
keeping the peace, the Peaceforcers are above the law."

   "Isn't there anything we can do to prevent this, sir?"

   "Only bringing in Erythrina, Detective. They've already made up their
minds and they don't want to be bothered with the facts." He glared at her.
"I _know_ you have connections in the black net, Detective. That's why
you're tolerated in the department. Because you have sources that no one
else has. Use them. There isn't any choice any longer, Mitchell. There's no
fence to sit on. It's Erythrina, or us."

   She looked back at him bleakly.

                                   * * *

   Yet another world...

   Planet Genowara, Galactic Core, Spinwards, 2402 A.D.

   "The rest of the assault team is ready, sir."

   "Are the Blackcollars set?"

   "They're in place, sir. The Ryqril don't have a chance."

   The old major spun around. "Are you naturally that stupid, Leftenant? Or
do you study at it? War is the _single_ most uncertain action humans ever
undertake. Of course the Ryqril have a chance. It may be improbably small,
but it's still there. Never forget that. If you do, you'll end up in a body
bag, and it won't necessarily be the enemy who'll put you there!"

   "Y-yes sir, Major Two Bulls."

   "Good. Now get your head out of your ass and armor up, boy. You got five
minutes. After that, we leave you behind."

   The younger man scrambled to obey, and the major looked at him irascibly.
*Stupid little puppy'll likely get himself shot to pieces in the first five
minutes,* he thought with a sigh. He walked over to his command post and 
donned his own armor. *Looks like I'm going to have to add a bit of 
baby-sitting to the list for today. Great Spirit, was I ever that green?*

                    ***********************************
 
   Ed shot up straight in bed, shivering violently. *Damn. Haven't had
_that_ dream in quite a few years. Now if I could just make then stop
completely.* He looked around, noting the feminine decorations in the room.
*You know, I'm _really_ getting tired of waking up in strange beds. It gets
pretty old after a while.*

   He noticed a stack of clean clothing resting on a nearby chair, with 
some towels piled neatly beside them. *Guess Minerva planned ahead. Bless 
her cybernetic little heart.* He grabbed the clothing and headed for the
bathroom. Cleaning up quickly, he headed to the kitchen where he found
Sylvie and Minerva deep in discussion. Minerva smiled at him as he walked
in.

   "How are you feeling today, boss?"

   "I've had better days. And better nights." He gave her an ironic smile. 
"And you, pretty lady?"

   "I've been having a long talk with Sylvie." She waved a hand across her
body. "This was a pretty big change for me. She had some insights on what
it's like to be both organic and inorganic at the same time."

   He nodded to Sylvie. "Thank you, m'lady. I appreciate that. It looks like
our lives will be going through some unexpected changes, and we can use all
the help we can get." He fixed himself a bowl of cereal and sat, absently
picking at it.

   "Bad dreams again, lover?"

   He blinked, surprised. "Eh? How did you know?"

   Minerva smiled and pointed at the bowl. "You always do that. Get some
cereal and then ignore it. After twenty years, it was kind of hard to miss
the signs."

   He frowned, and pushed the untouched bowl away. "I'm going to take a walk
and get some fresh air."

   "What about Sylia?" asked Sylvie.

   "What about her? Where could I possibly go?" he growled. "It's not as if
there's any place I can escape to. After all... I gave my word." He headed 
out the door.

   "He isn't taking this very well," observed Sylvie.

   "He never does," replied Minerva sadly.

                                   * * *

   "You guys never cease to amaze me! All the moral fiber of Jack the 
    Ripper. What do you do in your spare time? Juggle babies over a 
    fire pit? Oops, there goes another calculated risk!"
      - Commander Ivanova, "Babylon 5 - Mind War"

   "You're a triple-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich.. with arsenic
    sauce!"
      - Thurl Ravenscroft, "How The Grinch Stole Christmas"

   In an temporary office that had been set up for him at one of Genom's
other buildings, Quincy was viewing the recordings that had been made of the
battle. "Fascinating," he murmured. A soft rap at the door caused him to
pause. "Enter, Ms. Madagan."

   Kate Madagan stepped through the door, her arms full of files. "I have
the preliminary reports, sir. As well as my personal impressions, as
requested."

   "And those impressions are?"

   She squared her shoulders. "Sir, after what I witnessed in the plaza, it
is my opinion that we should not pursue this any further. I seem to have
vastly underestimated the potential danger that Mr. Edwards represents. The
mecha he was piloting was, at the very least, a full generation beyond our
current technology. His physical survival of the explosion of its power
plant indicates that his personal abilities were seriously underrated as 
well. The technicians assigned to examined those few scans that survived the
battle estimate that when the fusion reactor powering the mecha blew, the 
resulting blast was in the kiloton range. Their judgements are somewhat 
tentative at the moment, however. The sudden arrival of and interference by
Ms. Stefanson tended to introduce a large amount of uncertainty in the 
readings." She sighed. "Further attempts to pressure Mr. Edwards could prove
both counter-productive and non-profitable."

   "A succinct analysis." Quincy smiled. "In point of fact, your conclusions
are quite similar to my own, Ms. Madagan. Our book-seller is far more than
he appears on the surface. Attempts at physical harassment were in error.
That error is understandable, however, given our lack of information."

   Outwardly, Madagan didn't react. Inside, however, she gave a mental
shudder, and a tight knot in her gut relaxed. She had feared Quincy would
take issue with her recommendation to avoid any further conflict. "In
addition, sir, we have reason to believe that he has access to material
resources that we do not."

   Quincy raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

   Madagan extracted a paper from the sheaf she was carrying. "A small
fragment of the mecha's armor survived its destruction, due in part to the
Crystal Knight. It was sliced from the right arm of the mecha by one of his
diamond swords. Chemical analysis shows it to be a highly exotic alloy,
composed largely of rhenium."

   "I'm given to understand that rhenium is a mere chemical curiosity. It's
far too rare to be of any widespread commercial use."

   "Yes, sir. But the 10 kilogram chunk that was recovered contained more
rhenium than is currently produced world wide." She ran a finger down the
page. "The only known commercial source is flue dust from the roasting of
Arizona molybdenite. Production is at less than 3 tons of Cottrell dust per
year, resulting in less than 1/4 kilogram of rhenium. The sample of armor is
over 24% rhenium, or slightly less that 2 1/2 kilos of it. Or the equivalent
of ten years production in the sample alone. The metallurgists flatly refused
to estimate the amount that must have gone into the construction of the
entire mecha. Or it's potential value on the precious metals market." She 
paused. "The company that owns the mine and refines the dust is, 
unfortunately, wholly owned by the Chang Conglomerate."

   Quincy paused and pondered. "Interesting. I trust repair of the damaged
floors of Genom tower progresses rapidly."

   "Yes sir. Your office will be ready by tomorrow morning, with the
remainder of the tower fully repaired by the end of the week."

   "Good." He turned his chair back towards the monitor he'd been watching.
"Every being, no matter how powerful, has a weak point, Ms. Madagan. Even
our.. acquaintance, the Crystal Knight, was shown to be vulnerable to an
attack upon his friends. He risked his own life to save that of the pink
Knight Saber." He tapped a key, and the monitor went blank. "Maintain a
discrete surveillance on Mr. Edwards. But take no chances on our being
connected to it. Everyone has a price, Ms. Madagan. We need to discover
his."

   "Yes, sir. But sometimes that price can be very high. Can we afford to
pay his?"

   "If Genom is to remain the most powerful corporation on the planet, we
cannot afford _not_ to. The corporation that controls teleportation controls
the world."

   He waved Madagan out of the office, steepling his fingers together. "This
isn't even your universe, eh? What a fascinating statement, Mr. Edwards." He
smiled. "Fascinating, indeed."

                                   * * *

   Sylia walked into Darlene's apartment. "Where is Edward? I need to speak
with him."

   Minerva looked up. "He went for a walk, Ms. Stingray. He wasn't feeling
very good."

   "Do you know where?"

   Minerva shook her head. "No.. he asked me not to track him for a while.
And if I did know, I couldn't tell you. I hope you understand why."

   She nodded. "Your primary loyalty lies with him. I can't fault you for
that. Besides, I believe I may have an idea where he's gone."

   "It isn't going to be a confrontation, is it?"

   "I hope not, Minerva. I certainly hope not."

                                   * * *

   At ADPolice headquarters, Bochinski threw a unfinished report at the
wall. "Why the hell do they still have us looking for him? We haven't seen
the Vigilante for since the attack on Genom Tower! He's probably left the
damn country!"

   Wadderson spread her hands. "Ours is not to question why and all that
crap, partner. We just do the job. And right now, part of that job is to
keep an eye out for Mr. Mysterious." She rubbed her chin. "Besides, _you_
were the one who submitted that report that claimed he was at the controls
of the machine that trashed Genom tower. I expect there's more than a few
bought and paid for politicians who want to get on Genom's good side by
finding him."

   Bochinski made a rude noise. "Politics. Bah. Bunch of chair-warming
idiots and incompetents who couldn't get a job anywhere else. You ask me,
we'd have been better off if they'd all died during the quake."

   "Maybe so, but we still have a job to do if we want to keep drawing a
paycheck." She picked up another report of a sighting, flipping through it
idly. "It _would_ be nice if they'd stop sending us every drunk with the
DT's who thinks they've seen him."

                                   * * *

   "There never is [profit] in revenge. Let the dead rest, and the past...
    remain the past."
       - Jean-Luc Picard, "ST:TNG - The Battle"

   Sylia was right. She found him where she'd expected to; in the remains of
his book store. He sat staring at the ashen remnants of the books and
scrolls, the wreckage of an overturned counter serving as a makeshift seat.
She stepped up behind him, but before she reached him, he spoke.

   "Revenge is an ugly thing, isn't it? It steals the soul." He shook his
head, refusing to look at her. "I gave up my honor, my responsibilities,
everything. All for the sake of revenge. A meaningless revenge at that." He
waved a hand at the room around them. "There's nothing here that I couldn't
replace. I could have restored everything here with a single, simple command
to Minerva. For that matter, I could simply have walked away. Just left it
all behind, and found someplace else. I was stuck in this reality until
Valanna came along, but there was still an entire galaxy out there for me
explore." He clenched a fist. "But I wanted to _show_ Quincy... to rub his
nose in the idea that he was a fool when he challenged _me_." A grim look of
self-contempt slid across his face. "I did it because I was furious that he
_dared_ to think he could take me on as an equal. Megalomania at its worst."

   "And what does that say about my own actions against Genom?" Sylia asked
quietly.

   "Absolutely nothing." He smiled painfully. "Sylia, I don't pretend to
know you like a friend, but you're not doing what you do for revenge. You're
not doing it for yourself, either. Not any more, at least. You're doing it
for them, the people of Mega-Tokyo. You're doing it because someone _has_ to
do it, and you and the Knight Sabers you created are the best suited for the
job. Pun intended." He rubbed the back of his neck, and continued. "What I
did was done for reasons wholly selfish, and entirely petty."

   "And that bothers you?"

   "OF COURSE IT DOES!" he snapped. "I.. Oh, hell." His shoulders slumped.
"Sylia, I thought I'd gotten away from all this a long time ago. Habits of
thought and action." He shivered as old, ugly memories stirred in the back
of his mind. "Things like.. Dying soldiers aren't dying soldiers, they're
`acceptable losses'. Scorched earth doesn't matter.. it's `denying resources
to the enemy'. People left homeless, dying of exposure, starvation and
plague.. they aren't important, they're merely `collateral damage'. The
means don't matter.. only the ends you achieve. Political expediency." He
spat out the last two words with a cold venom that impressed Sylia. "And I
let myself fall to that. Again."

   "At least you're able to see that clearly now. Of course, it would have
been better if you'd seen it in the beginning," she added dryly. "And what
exactly do you mean by again?"

   "Remind me to tell you about the Fall of Strana Mechty, someday. A day
when I'm feeling particularly self-abusive." He looked over his shoulder at
her. "Have you come to pronounce my sentence, Sylia? Do I get a last meal?"

   "In a way, I have. You have much to make restitution for, but you can't
do it and abuse yourself at the same time." She stepped over a burnt scroll
and sat next to him. "First of all, you will remain here, in this universe,
for the present. I believe you've learned that running from your problems
doesn't solve them. Next, your assistant Minerva assures me that so far as
wealth is concerned, you have no worries whatsoever. So you will rebuild
this shop, and you will arrange to funnel the profits, as well as additional
funds as needed, into a fund to repay the damages you caused during your
rampage. If you need help, I will arrange for my business contacts to aid
you. You will also reimburse _me_, personally, for the costs I incurred
during our battle." She paused at that point, looking at him expectantly.

   Ed blinked in surprise. "That can't be it. It's too bloody simple."

   She smiled suddenly. "Good. You may be inclined to foolish acts of
impulsive rage, but you are not stupid. You, Mr. Becerra, are about to
receive an education in the practical realities of dealing with the
responsibilities that come with power."

   He looked at her, eyes wide. "And you said that all in one breath, too."
She shot him an irritated look, and he shrugged. "Can't help it. I think my
mother was frightened by a stand-up comedian before I was born." He stood,
and scuffed his feet through the ashes. There was a muted clank, and he
stooped to see what he'd struck. His jaw sagged.

   "Well, I'll be dipped in horseradish!"

   "What is it?" Sylia stepped over, curious. She watched as he bent, and
lifted what looked like a sword of some sort from the floor. She frowned.
"That was hanging over the door to your office, wasn't it?"

   He nodded, amazed. "This.. was a gift from a friend. I thought it was
lost with the books." He brushed the ashes from the scabbard, revealing what
looked like a ninjato. "Franklin Sakamoto gave this to me years ago. We'd
been jumped by a dozen assassins from the Black Dragon Society. They were
after him, and I managed to delay the bishonen bastards long enough for him
to grab a gun and sound the alarm." He held up the blade with both hands,
balancing it on his upturned palms. "I took this from one of the assassins.
It was supposed to be the blade to kill Franklin. Instead, Franklin gave it
to me, as thanks." He shrugged. "He didn't know what I was, and thought I'd
risked my life for his. So he tried to honor my 'noble spirit of courage'.
He told me that this blade would never fail me."

   Sylia hmmmm'ed quietly. "It certainly seems as if he was correct."

   Ed made a non-committal sound. "Hey, it wasn't as if I was in any real
danger from those pretty-boy idiots. Those fools could've beaten me over the
head with their swords all day long, and the most it would have done is
mussed my hair, and maybe given me a headache from the noise." 

   She frowned. "Sakamoto.. the name sounds familiar. Franklin Sakamoto, the
illegitimate heir to the throne of the Draconis Combine, wasn't he?"

   Ed favored her with a startled look. "Yes. But how did you know? That
wasn't even in this universe!"

   Sylia smiled. "Both the game and the cartoon exist in this reality, as
well as, I assume, they do in your own. I took the time to watch all
thirteen episodes."

   "Ahh.." A faint grin danced on his lips. "I should have thought of that.
And more to the point, I should have expected it. What I know of you told me
that you'd _never_ give up on a puzzle." He caressed the blade. "I'd better
put this someplace safe. It's obvious the shop isn't secure any longer." He
addressed the room. "Minerva?"

   "Yes, boss?"

   "Tuck this away in the armory, pretty lady. And clean out the rest of my
personal belonging, as well. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice,
shame on _me_."

   Sylia watched as the sword shimmered and vanished. "Interesting. So that
is the technology everyone is so anxious to acquire. You may have gone about
it improperly Edward, but you were right in keeping it out of their hands.
It could be quite easily abused."

   "I shouldn't have made the mistake in the first place. But thank you.. I
think."

   She nodded. "As long as you realize that, you're learning."

   "Too schoon ve get old und too late shmart," Ed sighed. "True no matter
_what_ universe you live in." He brushed the ashes from his jeans, and
turned towards the door. "Well, time to get started, I suppose. I've got to
rebuild a shop, and a life. Soonest begun, soonest done."

                    ***********************************

   "In my life I've seen the mystery begin/And in my time I've felt some
    wonderful things/Winds will change bringing us something new/So little
    time still there's so much we can do..."
      - 'Find The Key To Your Life', "TMNT2"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
   And that's it for this part of `Tangled Skeins'. But the story will
continue. I hope you've all enjoyed it.

   Now for the obligatory legal verbiage. With the exception of those
characters I created myself, none of these characters are mine, and they are
being used without permission. I'm not making a single penny from this
story, and the copyrights are as follows.

   Bubblegum Crisis is (c) Artmic, Inc. & Youmex, Inc., and is used without
permission.

   All BattleTech references and material are (c) FASA, 1980-1997, and are
used without permission. All other characters are (c) by their creators and
are used without permission, with the following exceptions: Twister is (c)
Darren Steffler. White Wolf and his bar are (c) Hitomi Ichinohei.

   Doc Mui is (c) Pearson Mui. PCHammer is (c) Martin F. Rose. Thank you for
letting me mention you in the story, guys.

   Ailuro and Natasha are NON-fictional characters, friends of mine who have
given me permission to use them in this story, and their characterizations
are (c) by them. Please respect that.

   The song "All I have to do is Dream." is (c) 1958 by the Everly brothers.

   This story is (c) 1997 by Edward Becerra, with the exception of certain
scenes written by Darren Steffler and John Collins. Thank you, guys.


Barry Cadwgan ( BCADWGAN@FL.NET.AU )
"The end does not justify the means.  
 The end is the sum of the means,
 as the road travelled determines the destination." 
Valijon Starbringer (Hellflower Trilogy, Eluki bes Shahar)