Sailor Moon/Bubblegum Crisis
"Best of All the Years"
Episode 2.
(To review:
Priscilla S. Asagiri, a member of the mercenary vigilantes known as
the Knight Sabres, has awakened in the early thirtieth century, a "guest"
of Queen Serenity of Crystal Tokyo. Her last memories are of a karaoke
contest in which a certain "Hino Rei" participated, and of feeling a poke
in her arm, which Serenity informs her was one of her agents collecting
her DNA. Priss has been restored to life in compliance with orders given
by Lady Mars (Hino Rei) just before she dissolved her alliance with Queen
Serenity. She is outraged to be told that due to the expense involved in
this restoration, she will not be permitted to end her life, but must
rather pay back her "debt to society" in accordance with the Crystal
Kingdom's policy of TINSTAAFL (There Is No Such Thing As A Free Lunch).
Furious and grieving for her long-dead friends, Priss swears to find Lady
Mars, and exact an explanation for her resurrection.)
It's always the same.
I'm on stage, screaming my lungs out in rage, like I had at the start
of my career, before my career as a Knight Saber had taught me that a
whisper could be as effective as a howl. And suddenly I realize that I
can't tell where my hand starts and my microphone begins. My hand is
becoming metal. Shiny, chromed metal. I drop the mike, and I realize
that the same thing is happening to my other hand. Screaming, I drop to
my knees, and see that the taint is creeping up my legs ... I howl, and
something is coming up my throat, it's a particle beam, oh god.
I'm a boomer.
And then I wake up.
I've been having that nightmare since ... hell, since I can remember.
Of course, selective amnesia about everything that happened before the ...
quake means I don't know exactly when it started. But it only came once
in a while back in the twenty-first century.
In the thirtieth century, the wonderful utopia, I was having it damn
near every night. I knew exactly why, of course.
It was that thing on my back.
I clambered out of my bed, and stomped across the small apartment I'd
been allocated as part of my "integration into our society". The mirror
in the "bathroom" area was dusty, but clear enough for me to see the the
thing when I twisted my neck around.
It was small, circular, and harmless looking, the implant that would
notify medical aid if my life was ever in danger of premature
termination. Why the hell, if this place's technology was so goddamn
advanced, couldn't they have put it inside my body? Then at least I
wouldn't have to look at it whenever I wasn't wearing any clothes around a
mirror.
My plan of bloody retribution was not going according to schedule.
Six weeks had passed since I was dragged screaming from the abyss,
weeks in which I had made zero progress towards finding Mars -- I almost
never thought of her as "Rei", which was probably just some name she'd
come up with on the spur of the moment for that contest.
Instead, I'd found myself immersed in my "job". I was reasonably
certain that it was some kind of makework position, since anybody with a
bit of sense could have done it.
The principal means of entertainment in Crystal Tokyo was a sort of
holographic television -- way more advanced than had been in use in my
era. You really couldn't tell if the hologram was real or an illusion
anymore ... anyway, the content of the holovision programming was mostly
news and information, with not a lot of "pure" entertainment. There were
adaptations of plays and novels (including a few that, if I got it right,
had been written by fricking space aliens ...) but no sitcoms, copshows,
or soapops.
Instead, the populace of Crystal Tokyo had, once a week, a two hour
long variety show. Pro-entertainers from all over the world -- and a few
from off-world -- did their acts for the small studio audience and for the
vastly larger "remote" audience. Dancers, puppeteers, improvisational
actors, storytellers, stand-up comedians (though thankfully VERY few), and
-- this is where *I* come in -- musicians.
I wasn't a performer, although I was asked once or twice to show off
my talent. Instead, I was called in to assist the stage manager in
setting the soundstage up properly for this musician or that singer.
Basically, my job consisted of going through a data base of previous
arrangements to find which one had suited the performer in the past,
checking with him or her to see if it was appropriate this time, and
making corrections if it wasn't.
It was the most boring experience of my life. There were five people
to do this job, which the stage manager could easily have done by
herself. I wondered if the other "consultants" were cloned entertainers
who had been slammed into the workforce to pay for *their* medical care.
Actually, I didn't wonder. The thought crossed my mind, but I didn't
really give a shit.
I ran my bath, and climbed in. This was just about the only really
good part of my day. I could imagine what I was going to do to the
bitches who'd put me in this position, and forget my troubles.
The wall went ping. I sighed, and said, "Display."
The wall just above the far end of the bathtub transformed into a two
dimensional video screen. On the screen was a nervous looking guy,
Kerropi Tsuma, one of the other "consultants", and the only one who'd made
an effort to get to know me.
"Aie! Priss, you're in the tub!" he exclaimed.
"And you're gay, what's the problem?"
"You should have just gone to audio," he lectured. "Suppose some
pervert had been calling?"
"I'd have welcomed the change. What are you calling me for?"
Kerropi seemed to be sweating. "Well ... we aren't going to be
needing you for this week's show, Priss."
"Yeah?" I asked, non-committally.
"Yes ... um, Lady Mercury will be giving a special presentation, and
she specifically requested that you be nowhere near the complex when she
was there."
My jaw dropped. "You're fucking kidding me."
He shook his head, with a sad expression.
"So because one of the hoity-toity jetset elite is condescending to
appear on the show, and she has a GRUDGE, I'm supposed to just take the
week off without pay?!!" I was shouting, why was I shouting, I don't LIKE
working on the show ...
"Oh, no! You'll be paid for the amount of work we think you'd do if
you were there ... this falls under the Special Absentee Conditions Clause
of your contract ..."
"Save it! Fine, tell her Royal Assholyness I won't be anywhere near
her ..."
"You really shouldn't talk like that about the Senshi, Priss, it's not
a good idea ..." He looked really nervous now.
"Oh, so now they're gonna take away my freedom of speech, too?"
"No, Priss, but ... a lot of people tend to regard the members of Her
Majesty's court with something akin to worship. Think of the jyhads that
were fought in your era! If you say that sort of thing in the wrong
place, you could wind up getting lynched."
I let out a long, slow, exasperated breath. "Fine, I'll watch my
mouth. Was that all?"
"Well ... actually there was one other thing, but maybe now's not the
right ..."
"SPILL IT."
"Would you like to go out for lunch with me?"
I stared at his image for a very long moment. "Sure," I muttered.
"Why not?"
"Kaleidoscopic! I'll pick you up at ..."
"Forget that, where are we eating?"
"Uh, well, I thought you might like Makoto's Okonomiyaki Emporium."
"Fine, whatever. I'll meet you there at two. Bye. Cancel."
The wall went back to being a wall. I slumped down in the tub. Well,
that meant that I had seven hours to kill before lunch, and the rest of
the day free. It was time to start working on vengeance.
The Crystal Tokyo Public Library was a huge building that looked like
it had been carved from a single, vast crystal. I walked through the
front door, wondering where the security scanners were, and headed for the
information desk.
"Good day, Citizen, how may I assist you?" the girl at the desk asked
politely.
"What's the going rate for library access?" I asked bluntly. If this
place ran on the same logic as every other institution in the city ...
"Twenty cents a minute. Could I interest you in one of our special
package deals ..."
I was already in motion while she started asking, since I didn't have
any intention of coming back here after I'd done my research today. The
rate was actually pretty reasonable, when you considered that libraries in
Mega Tokyo usually charged about fifty thousand nuyen a month for a
library card.
There was a row of monitors, each with a sort of automated teller
machine beside it. The monitor bid me to insert my identicard into the
slot, and place my palm on the palm-reading device. I did so.
"You are Citizen Asagiri, occupational class three, current assets
fifteen hundred forty eight point sixty seven socreds," a soft voice
stated. "Please state your request."
"I wanna see all the articles that have been written in all the local
papers within the last ... eight weeks about Lady Mars."
"Shall I display article titles in menu format?"
"Yes," I said, trying to forget that I was probably dealing with an
artificial intelligence.
The articles filled up the screen, thirty two of them, and there was a
little note on the bottom of the page that said, page 1 of 42. Great ...
I noticed that the articles weren't organized in any way I
understood. Articles from two days ago were beside ones from eight weeks
back, various authors in no order ... "Hey, how are these things
classified?"
"Random order. You did not specify any system of classification."
Oh, even better! Not just an artificial intelligence, a STUPID
artificial intelligence. "Order the articles by date, beginning with the
oldest ones, and then moving to the most recent."
It was, however, a fast stupid AI. A moment later, the articles were
in a historical order. I scanned down the first page of titles. And the
second. And the third ...
It was on the tenth page, about six and a half weeks before, that I
found the first information. The article was entitled, "Lady Mars Quits."
Apparently, there had been some kind of assassination attempt on the
Queen, which Mars had foiled ... but the Queen had stopped her "ally"
(that was the word that everyone used to describe her and the other three
immortals who ran the place with the Queen) from summarily executing the
assassin. The assassin had escaped, and Lady Mars had furiously ended her
alliance with the Crystal Kingdom.
She hadn't been heard from since.
This made absolutely no sense to me ... why the hell would the Queen
insist that someone trying to off her be spared, to the point of letting
the perp run free? Her publicity office had made a statement to the
effect that she was "disturbed by Lady Mars willingness to ignore the
spirit of the law in pursuit of its word", but that sounded like so much
bull to me.
I considered looking up the history of these two women ... but I was
pretty sure that all I'd have gotten was a bunch of "official" histories
that made them out like the saviors of the world, just like a certain
corporation's publicity material did. Had.
I was about to get my card back, when a sudden thought came to me.
"Computer?"
"Yes, Citizen Asagiri?"
"Display all materials on the group known as the Knight Sabres."
Only a single page of titles, this time, organized by publishing date
.. the thing was consistent, at least.
The second item was "A Journal: 2011 - 2041" by Sylia Stingray.
There it was. My answer to the question, what had happened to the
original version of myself ... I mean, Sylia wouldn't have not noted what
happened to me, right?
"The second item, please." Why was my mouth so dry? I wanted to know
this, right?
"I am sorry, Citizen Asagiri, but that item is currently reserved for
the exclusive use of the Dean of the Department of Pre-Apocalyptic History
at the University of Crystal Tokyo. I can connect you to his office, if
you so request."
"No, forget it ..."
"Citizen Asagiri, there is a call coming from the office of the Dean
of the Department of Pre-Apocalyptic History at the University of Crystal
Tokyo. Time spent in conference will not be added to your account. Will
you accept the call?"
"Huh?" How had he known I was ...
"That is not an interpretable answer, Citizen Asagiri. Will you ..."
"Yes, all right, put him through!" Stupid, STUPID machines ...
The Dean was a tall guy, balding and bespectacled. He was staring at
me anxiously. "Well, I'll be damned. It really is you."
"Were you expecting someone else?" I snapped.
"I'd heard rumors, of course, but ... may I state, Ms. Asagiri, that
this is a great honor?"
"You just did. How the hell did you know where I was?" The way this
guy called me "Ms. Asagiri" reminded me just a little too much of Her
Supreme Exaltedness.
"Everytime someone tries to access certain materials which are in my
purview, a bulletin is sent to me. I recognized *your* name at once."
"Why exactly are you in charge of Sylia's journal?"
"Well ... my primary focus of scholarship is the period in Japanese
Pre-Apocalyptic History during which the Knight Sabres were active. I
.."
"Hold it. What's this "Apocalypse" anyway?"
He blinked, then made a short laughing noise. "Oh, I'm sorry. I
forgot you probably wouldn't know that. The Apocalypse was the final
phase of what we refer to as the Final War, beginning in the mid-eighties
of the twenty-first century, during which various corporate and political
entities used nuclear weapons against one another. Large tracts of Terra
were rendered more or less uninhabitable for centuries ..."
"Oh, shit."
"... especially following the nuclear winter that this caused. The
Apocalypse was followed by nearly six centuries of the Dark Ages, ending
only within the last two hundred years, when Queen Serenity united the
various enclaves of humanity in the Crystal Kingdom, and expelled ... but
I'm rambling. In any case, my area is what happened before that, and I'm
currently revising my doctoral thesis, as new information has recently
come to light on the subject of the Knight Sabers."
"You mean me?" I asked, bluntly.
"Oh, no. I referred to the discovery of the memoirs of a Mr. Leon
McNichol, entitled "To Serve and Deflect: A Life in the AD Police".
There is a considerable section about your ... previous existence therein,
as Mr. McNichol was, as you of all people are aware, infatuated to an
almost obsessive degree with you."
"Great," I muttered. What had that lunatic written about me?! If
he'd gone on about our "wild romance", I was gonna dig him up and ...
"However, now that you are available for an interview, I was
wondering if you would be willing to ..."
"No."
He blinked. "I ... beg your pardon?"
"I wouldn't be willing to sit around and let you grill me about my
life and times. I've got better things to do!" Okay, so I didn't, but he
didn't need to know that.
"But Ms. Asagiri ... may I call you Priss?"
"Do and I'll come over there and kick your ass."
"Ms. Asagiri, I don't think you realize the paucity of primary sources
about the age you lived in. Ms. Stingray's journal is extremely cryptic
at parts, and the other sources were often unaware of the importance of
the Knight Sabres in the overall scheme of things. For example, on the
night of December 15, 2038 ..."
"I haven't a clue what I was doing. My memories only go to August,
2033."
"Oh? I see ..." The twerp looked pretty downcast at this. "I'm
terribly sorry for wasting your time then. If you'd like, I could give
you access to the materials that ..."
"Thanks." I hit the button marked Cancel on the terminal. "I'm done
here," I said to the computer as the Dean's image faded away.
"Please come again, Citizen Asagiri," it said, returning my card.
I checked my watch. It was about time to meet Kerropi for lunch, and
I hadn't dug up any leads at all in my pursuit of Lady Mars.
Life stinks, sometimes.
Okonomiyaki really hadn't changed much in nine hundred years. I
didn't have much of an appetite, so I mostly watched Kerropi eat.
"You ... um, really have a serious grudge against ... uh, THEM, don't
you?" he asked.
"Well, they've screwed up my death, and I don't think much of the life
they've given me, and I *really* don't care for their fashion sense. So,
yeah, it could be said I have a grudge." I'd told him about my ...
unusual entry into this world weeks ago. He'd seemed completely
fascinated by it, wanting to get all the details he could.
He stopped eating, and stared at me for a moment. I wasn't really
comfortable looking into those purple eyes, for some reason, so I sipped
my ... it *tasted* like Coke, but I was pretty sure that it wasn't.
Kerropi leaned towards me. "You're not the only one who thinks like
that, you know?"
I looked at him curiously. "No kidding."
"No kidding. There are lots of people in the city who have the exact
same opinions as you do."
I leaned towards him. Our noses were about a centimetre apart. "Are
you one of those people?"
"Let's just say, I sympathize. There's a meeting of ... several
people who aren't thrilled with the way the Queen is running things this
afternoon. You wanna go?"
Well well well. Lil' ol' Kerropi was a member of a secret society,
huh? "Sounds interesting," I said, quietly. "Let's go."
So he led me to the meeting place of his bunch, which was in the bay
area. Maritime shipping was a big business in the Kingdom, as there were
some hefty statutes against the sort of air pollution that airplanes
caused. Anyway, that naturally led to the creation of the usual "dock"
district in Crystal Tokyo. On the surface, it looked only a bit rougher
than the rest of town.
The meeting was in a warehouse. There were about a hundred people
there, ranging from a few other people who worked at the show, to some
other guys I'd seen on the palace grounds as I'd been leaving it. There
was this one old woman in the corner, keeping to herself, who looked
strangely familiar, but I couldn't place her.
One guy stood up on a small podium that had been erected in the center
of the warehouse, and coughed to get everyone's attention. "Um, good
afternoon. I'm very glad that you could all come to this meeting, a very
special meeting ... because we are honored to have a very special guest in
our midst. The man who struck a blow for the emancipation of the human
spirit last month. Mr. Arduin Daeden."
The man who stepped up to take the guy's place was at least seven feet
tall, and nearly four feet broad. The name didn't ring any bells, but the
minute I saw his face I knew where I'd seen it before: in the newstories
I'd spent the morning reading.
This was the guy who'd tried to kill Queen Serenity.
There was a lot of whispering going on as he took his place on the
podium. It all stopped dead as he began to speak. "You do me too much
honor, by describing my actions as a blow. They were an attempt at a
blow, nothing more ..." Suddenly he stopped, and seemed to scan the
crowd. "But not everyone here is sympathetic to our cause ... THAT ONE!"
The old woman in the corner suddenly found herself the target of a
bunch of people who'd been covertly packing iron. (Or whatever you'd call
carrying hand-held weaponry these days.) They didn't shoot. I got the
feeling that they were just waiting for the order, though.
"A spy?" someone in the crowd asked.
"Oh, no. Far more than that," the old woman said in a voice I knew.
The shawl came off, and the veil, and the baggy clothes, and
underneath it all was her.
Lady Mars.
More or less as I remembered her from her appearance at the club nine
hundred years ago, but with one major difference -- the patch over her
left eye. She was also wearing green combat fatigues, instead of a dress.
"Indeed, far more dangerous than a spy," Arduin said calmly.
"The question is," she said slowly, "can I flame you before they shoot
me? Because I'm willing to trade my life for your death, Arduin. Don't
doubt that."
"Oh, I don't. But the question is actually, are you willing to trade
my death for your life ... *and* that of another, only peripherally
involved in all this? THAT ONE."
Instantly, I found myself in the exact same position that Mars was
in. Guns with their business end pointed at me. Even lil' ol' Kerropi
was training a pistol on me, with an almost apologetic look on his face.
She noticed me for the first time, and a flicker of surprise crossed
her face. Then her mouth turned up in a quirky smile. "You're right, of
course. I can't allow any harm to come to innocents like her."
"And if I were a trusting soul, I'd take that as an assurance of your
good conduct. But I'm not. So, here ..." He tossed a crystalline
bracelet across the length of the warehouse (an enormous throw) to Mars.
"You know the drill."
She studied it, sighed, and clicked it on her wrist. "So now what?"
she asked.
"Now you die, sweet Mars."
The guns surrounding me began to lower, and I figured I'd never have a
better moment to make my move. I jumped at Kerropi, grabbing his gun, and
slamming a punch to his jaw for good measure. Then I started to pick off
the guys holding guns on her before anyone realized what was happening.
The gun was a lot lighter than any of the sidearms I'd become familiar
with, and no bullets shot out when I pulled the trigger. Instead there
was a brief burst of light, and a sound like thunder, and whatever I was
pointing at fell over with a black hole in it. A handheld energy
firearm. Cool.
Meanwhile, Mars was cutting through the other gunslingers with some
weird martial arts moves that looked like they belonged on the movie
screen, but that worked frighteningly well. "Head for the door!" she
called out.
To me, I guess. Well, sounded like a good idea. I grabbed Kerropi,
holding him in a head lock with the pistol to his braincase. "Nobody
moves! Or buddy boy here gets it!"
"You will not escape," Arduin stated cooly. He seemed to be taking
this little twist unexpectedly well. There were lots of guns pointed at
me, but nobody seemed willing to fire. I backed towards the door.
"I won't not try," I informed him as I stood on the threshold, beside
Mars. Quickly, I threw Kerropi to the side, and started running.
"This way!" she shouted as the sounds of many other guns like the one
I was carrying discharged behind me. She led me to a manhole, and pulled
it off with very little effort. "Down! Hit the ground running!"
I jumped down the hole, and started down the tunnel at the bottom. I
could hear her running behind me ...
Eventually, she stopped running, and leaned against the wall,
breathing heavily. "I must be getting out of shape," she muttered. "This
would never have bothered me a few centuries ago ..."
I was on the verge of exhaustion, but I hid it a little better as I
slumped against the other side of the tunnel.
She smiled at me. "Long time, no see, Priss. How are you?"
I smiled back. "Just great." I lifted the gun. "Now before I blow
your head off, would you mind telling me why the hell you did it?!"
She looked shocked. "Huh? What are you ... you mean putting on the
bracelet?"
"No, you stupid idiot! I mean giving the orders!"
She stared at me, blankly. "What orders?"
"The orders to have me cloned! What the fuck other orders have you
given lately?!"
She shook her head. "I never gave any orders to have you cloned. Why
would I do something like that?"
"You bloody well tell me! The last thing *I* remember is that stupid
karaoke contest where your people got my DNA!" I was beginning to lose
it, all the anger and pain of what I'd gone through in the last few weeks
coming to the fore ...
"Yes, that's true ... but we never cloned you, Priss. Why would we do
something like that when we had the original you in cryogenic suspension?"
To Be Continued.
Sailor Moon was created by Takeuchi Naoko and brought to North America
by DIC. Bubble Gum Crisis was created by Kenichi Sonoda (and others) and
was brought to North America by AnimEigo.
Nobody sue me, okay?