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                 (http://spoof.maison-otaku.net/)
                            PRESENTS...

                       [ Slayers Demiurge ]

                             book four
                            "Survival"

        A Slayers Fanfic Series by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne

      (Certain characters copyright H. Kanzaka / R. Araizumi,
     obviously.  If I ever even considered claiming that those
    were my own characters I'd probably be thrown into a small
  cell where I'd be forced to eat my own writer's block to live.)

        Check out the web center with fanart and more, at
         --> http://pixelscapes.com/slayers/demiurge <--

-=-

     The city of Darata is known for three things.

     One, it is a superior port of call to any of its closest neighbors.  
Tons of cargo get moved in and out a day, especially since the advent of 
flying boats, but even before then it was notably a trade city.  As a 
result, the financiers of the docks are stinking rich, and the dockmen 
typically work themselves to death, but they're poor and don't matter.

     Two, coffee franchises.  They're the second most lucrative business, as 
good shipping requires 24 hour coverage, and coffee is beneficial in the 
regard of staying awake.  Starshot Coffees, Bagwell House Blends, and even 
Joe's Filthy Cuppa Joe's are cottage crops in Darata.  So, all the poor 
people can go to spend their meager funs and drink a lot of coffee, which 
makes them highly wired and irritable.

     Three, as a result of all the poor people and cheap coffee, it's the 
only city in the world where there are no bar room brawls.  Instead, there 
are coffee bar brawls, which are similar but usually play at higher speed 
and have a higher mortality rate.

     Zoamel tried to pick the safest looking place to get his charges back 
up to alertness.  It had seemed like such a good idea; a little java to help 
them face the day, but unfortunately, he hadn't been to this city in the 
last fifty years, and wasn't familiar with its problems.

     That, combined with news that their contact was currently in the middle 
of a gang war, did not bode for an easy task.  But Zoamel was not worried.  
After all, he was on a mission from himself...
  
     

                            -------------
                            four part one
                            -------------



     Not that his companions cared.  They were too busy recovering from a 
hard night of drinking/chatting, a refreshing dive into the icy blue waters 
of the ocean and a cheerful one mile swim to shore.  Such things tended to 
put a damper on the mood.

     Lina and Penny, under a convenient bulletproof magical ward that had 
been put next to the ashtray on their table, grumbled and muttered and 
sipped ground rounds while Zoamel fished some of his change out to pay the 
bill.  It can't help to be thrifty, the god thought, who had little concept 
of money except that people often wanted to kill each other to get it and 
he'd help out from time to time.

     The swarthy coffee pusher scooped up the money and immediately placed 
it in a safe with six inch thick steel.

     "A dangerous day, it seems?" Zoamel offered as a simplistic 
explanation.

     "It's just the North Side Crew acting up again," the bartender said.  
"They're pissed off about something or another. Territory, probably.  Maybe 
protection rackets from the South Side Bloods.  Although the East Side 
People Who Just Get These Headaches--"

     "Excuse me?"

     The bartender looked left, looked right.  "I wouldn't say this if any 
of 'em were in here, but the name sounds stupid to me too.  They're a new 
gang, mostly fueding with smaller crews like the Central Street Posse and--"

     "Yes, that's nice," Zoamel said, figuring that if he actually took the 
time to understand the local politics, it would take several days.  
"Listen... I need some assistance locating someone."

     "Information ain't cheap.  And I don't think your pocket change is 
gonna cover a standard 'I'm looking for someone', especially if you're gonna 
go kill them or--"

     Zoamel deposited a solid brick of gold on the counter.

     "Normally, you understand, I prefer to carry smaller units of money," 
Zoamel explained.  "They're more useful in normal social situations.  And I 
suppose this really is an overcharge for a simple question, but beggars 
can't be choosers.  Now, tell me..."

     Over at the table, Lina was on her fourth cup, and pouring another.

     "Che.  I hate getting drunk," she complained wetly.  "I've only gotten 
wasted a few times, and I never liked it, not once, nope."

     Penny peered over the rim of her second cup.  (Although with THESE 
mugs, it was more like 2.5.)  "Then why'd you do it?"

     "Felt like the adult thing to do.  Notice I didn't say 'mature'," Lina 
added, sighing in disgust over the situation.  She swallowed her pride, 
which was larger than most dinners she'd consumed, and continued.  "Penny... 
you're right.  I AM old.  Can't say I approve of you batting your eyelashes 
at Zoamel when we've got serious problems to deal with... but I'm not your 
mother.  Got that?  So, well, do what you want.  Fair's fair.  Try not to 
get us killed in the process, of course."

     "Really?" Penny asked.  "I mean.. I know you're not my mom, that's my 
fault, I shouldn't have said that.  Well.. okay!  And if you ever want to 
flirt with someone while we're questing I won't complain either!!"

     Lina spat most of her mouthful in a direction other than Penny's 
generalized direction, fortunately.  "H-HEY!  I didn't mean it that way!  
I'll have you know I'd--"

     Zoamel tapped the table ward twice, deactivating it.  "Time to go.  
>From the sounds of it, we may need to hurry.  He's holed up on the west 
side."

     "..who?" Lina asked, suspiciously.  "Every time I ask, you keep dodging 
the--"

     "I'll arrange a safe transport," Zoamel said, walking away.

     Lina glared at his back.  "Sheesh.  If I wanted a 'that is a secret' 
I'd be parading around with HIM instead of him... and when did HE start 
leading this quest, anyway?!"

     "Maybe because you were too hung over to Raywing us across the harbor?" 
Penny pointed out, and ducked an evil glare quickly thereafter.  "I think 
Zoamel has a commanding presence, even if he doesn't talk much about it.  
Besides, mysterious men have a certain charm!"

     "Now, don't YOU start--"

     "Hey, you promised!"

     "Doesn't mean I have to APPROVE of it!" Lina barked.  "Just grab your 
dull blade and let's get out of here.  And grab me another mocha twist to 
go!"

     "...it's not that dull..." Penny grumbled, retrieving her weapon from 
where it had made a dent in the wall.

                                    [*]

     "No, you IDIOT!  You don't do it that way.  Give me that thing."

     "But boss--"

     Roy Balderdash snatched the weapon away from the idiot, and twisted the 
bolt around.  "The clip goes in the OTHER way, you brat.  You pull back the 
bolt, twist left, jam the clip into the handle, twist the bolt back and 
uncap the powder chamber.  And if I catch you cleaning that thing out by 
wadding up your gum and using it to attract dirt, you and I are going a 
couple rounds.  And DON'T CALL ME BOSS!"

     "Y-yes, boss!" the punk barked, scrambling off, his customized Sairaag 
issue pistol waving in the air like a pointed stick.

     "And for god's sakes, DON'T put the gum back in your mouth after!  Your 
breath smells like an outhouse!!" Roy shouted after him, but it was too 
late.  He slumped against a wall.

     Roy pondered his fate.  He hadn't asked for much in life.  A few good 
scores, some plunder, the companionship of a few hearty lads.  It was all a 
bandit really needed.  He was HAPPY being a bandit, and was a success at it, 
too.  Instead, now he was a failure at being a military commander.  No, no, 
his mistake; a SUB-commander.  The illustrious full title went to his 
usually silent companion.

     "Well?  You got any two cents to add to this?" he asked, turning 
sharply to the young boy, who was busy polishing his gunblade.

     "They are not professional soldiers," Zelgadis coolly replied.  
"Despite being on our payroll.  They're not used to taking orders aside from 
their usual leaders, and even then, they act wildly.  Don't expect much in 
the way of precision from them."

     "You think I don't know how bandits act?" Roy asked, insulted.  "Of 
course they're gonna act wildly.  But these.. these are wet behind the ears 
kids.  Have they ever gotten into a battle?  A REAL battle, where you swing 
heavy metal and lop bits off the enemy?  No.  They sneak around at night and 
pop little lead balls at each other so they don't HAVE to see each other 
die.  And they'll never understand--"

     "Spare me your bandit philosophy," Zelgadis said, slinging the gunblade 
onto his back.  "What is the status report from the field?"

     Roy bit back an insult, and walked over, to make fresh pencil lines on 
the map.  "He's fallen back to this underground warehouse," Roy explained.  
"Turns out he had an escape tunnel from the LAST 'flawless trap' you 
designed that your spies hadn't mentioned.  We've got him pinned down with 
three gangs.  He won't be coming out, not when we've got snipers around that 
can pick off his little friends and a welcoming committee / lynch mob at the 
door.  So when do we rush the joint and bag this guy?"

     "Our current situation will do for now," Zelgadis said.  "The goal here 
is not to attack his person -- it wouldn't work if we tried.  Not yet.  
First, we must annihilate him, wear his men down, expose the weakness.  Then 
I'll lead the strike.  For now--"

     A man on fire entered the command room of Joe's Filthy Cuppa Joe's.  
Zelgadis did little more to raise an eyebrow, while Roy scrambled to toss a 
pitcher of coffee over the man.

     "Gyaaah!" the teenaged delinquent screamed.  "That's BOILING, man!"

     "What would you rather be, wet and hot or crispy dry and hot?" Roy 
barked back, tossing the empty pitcher away.  "Now what the hell is going 
on?!"

     "I-it's a slaughter, sir!  Well.. somewhat of slaughter," he said.  
"North Side and East Side ran for it!  Three people just jumped out of a 
taxi cab and started HURLING magic around like it hadn't gone out of style!  
It wasn't their alchemist, either, these were lunatics from hell!!  They had 
fire in their eyes and raged like demons and--"

     "Yes yes, we get the point," Roy said, figuring the rest was just 
shock.  "Well, Zelgadis?  Another unforeseen element in your perfect plans?"

     The Sairaag commander stood, tossing a cloak over his shoulders, and 
adjusting the facemask.  Not concerned.  Not emotional.

     "It's only three," he said.  "Wherever Drake got his allies doesn't 
matter.  I will handle them personally."

     "Yes, well, have fun, then.  Bring back a souvenir."

     "And you will accompany me."

     "Damn."

                                    [*]

     "OI!  YOU LITTLE BASTARDS!  I DARE you to call me some 'flat chested 
little girl' again!  HEY!  COME BACK HERE!  I'm not DONE with--"

     "They seem to be retreating," Zoamel stated, flicking a ball of black 
lightning he had wordlessly summoned away just as silently as he had 
produced it.  "There is no need for further hostilities.  A highly 
demoralized and frightened enemy is an enemy less likely to be a problem in 
the future, and more likely to fear you during every waking and non waking 
moment of their lives."

     "...that's pretty sinister, Zoey."

     "Yes, well, you have to know these sorts of things when you're a god of 
vengeance, you know," Zoamel said, with a small hint of pride.

     Penny kicked a nearby rock.  It rebounded into an alley, bounced off 
the walls three times and took out a pair of trash cans.  "Lina, that's no 
fair!  You blew them all up before I could unleash my mad skills on them 
with my awesome handcrafted weapon of--"

     "You're lucky they were too spooked to shoot back, Penny," Lina 
replied, eyeing the streets, to make sure nobody was coming back.  "I may be 
good, but I can't pluck dozens bullets from all directions out of the air 
with Flare Arrows, and you ran out of my shield range!  Stick closer next 
time.  Now, can we go inside?  Zoamel, you said this guy would be -- what 
the HELL is that thing?!"

     Penny looked up.  And her eyes brightened.  "Oh, it's an Ornithopter!  
Wow, I've never seen one up close!"

     There are actually stranger forms of transportation than the Aquatic 
Mongoose.  Recent developments in aviation proved that the 'propeller' 
theory of flight was not sufficient, and thus, the Ornithopter; a small cab 
with many tiny wings that beat at the air with incredible speed, hovering 
like a hummingbird, able to maneuver with calculated precision.  All facts 
completely lost to Lina, who summarized with:

     "Funny lookin' thing," she said, squinting a bit to see it in the 
shadow of the tall buildings around them.

     "Those are Sairaag markings," Zoamel warned.  "No doubt investigating 
this incident.  I would advise we get indoors quickly--"

     "Hold up, I wanna find out what's going on," Lina said.  "Besides, if 
they're like any other force aligned with a mad dictator with an evil plan 
and a legion of faceless minions, they'll explain their intentions before 
actually attacking--"

     Bullets carved the pavement in front of Lina in a nice, cheerful 
horseshoe shape.  This is what happens when you put an expert gunner on a 
vehicle as stable as a flying chicken.

     "KYAA!!" Lina shrieked, dancing from foot to foot.  Normal people, 
normal people would have run in terror.  Lina was not normal people.  She 
clenched one fist, orange flames gathering, mixed with red of anger....  
"How DARE they disobey dramatic convention?  EAT THIS!"

     (Technically, 'eat this' was not an actual spell, but Lina was not 
normal people in another regard as well...)

     The ball smacked the Ornithopter upside the cabin, proving savants and 
scienticians right in that the thing was horribly unstable when you actually 
ATTACKED it, and it came spiraling down like the descent of man before 
impacting hard against a newspaper stand.

     "Yahoo!  I win!" Lina cheered.  "Those things aren't so tough--"

     "Get DOWN!" Penny shouted.  And Lina did, and not in the dancing sense, 
which is good, because the gunner was out of the wreckage and opening fire.

     Lina ducked, rolled, crabwalked, generally got mobile.  Dodging bullets 
wasn't easy, but with all the smoke from the wreck and the confusion, she 
managed.  Managed to slide her way on closer to the gunman, the guy with the 
funny sword that was shooting at them, and tackle him head first...

     She charged a bolt of purple lightning on pure instinct, holding it 
back one foot, like a threat of screaming electric doom.  "Okay, buster, 
you've got negative three seconds to explain..."

     "...Lina?"

     The lightning went away, presumably to terrorize some island town as 
part of a larger storm, as Lina's surprise shucked any control she had over 
it.

     "Z-ZELGADIS?!" she gasped.  Then felt a cold, iron barrel placed 
against her head.

     "Lina Inverse, I presume," Roy Balderdash said, with a tone similar to 
one speaking the name of a Mazoku lord.  "No big windup this time.  I'm 
gonna blast your-- oh, for crying out loud, would you PLEASE get that cheap 
blade off my neck?  It's scratchy and blunt and irritating my skin!"

     "It is NOT blunt, bandit!" Penny declared, holding the end of the staff 
up to Roy's critical point.  "I don't know what YOU'RE doing here, but put 
your gun down or I'll.. I'll... bonk you on the head until you stop living!"

     Zoamel stood off to the side.  "I would participate in the standoff 
with the enemy, but I traditionally go unarmed," he said.  "I will cheer you 
on quietly from the sidelines, of course."

     Everybody held real, real still.  It was one of those moments where if 
someone coughed, multiple people would die.  Where the slightest movement 
could trigger off a chain reaction of manslaughter and tragedy...

     "I'm not going to lie here all day," Zelgadis said quietly.  "Could you 
all please decide who lives and who dies?"

     Lina groaned.  "Okay, this is silly.  Roy, put that thing down.  Penny, 
ease off, okay?  Let's all get to our feet and figure what's going on here."

     "But--" Penny and Roy said in a nice little chorus.

     "Stand down!" Lina and Zelgadis shouted in a second note of harmony.

     Everybody got up, to their feet.  And THEN the chaos broke out.

     "What are you DOING here, Zelgadis?!"

     "I could ask the same thing, especially since you seem to have found a 
fountain of youth--"

     "Boss, that's LINA INVERSE, shouldn't we be--"

     "But LINA, they're the BAD GUYS, and--"

     "--excuse me, but as the senior expert on conflict here, I really think 
my opinion should be considered and--"

     "LET ME PUT IT THIS WAY!" Lina shouted, since it's a commonly accepted 
fact of an argument that whoever is loudest wins.  "Me and Zel need to have 
a few words, and nobody kills anybody until we get back.  I don't like 
surprises and rather than start tossing magic around, I'd like to clarify a 
few things.  OKAY?"

     "Commander Zelgadis is the one who destroyed Melody, Lina," Zoamel said 
quietly.  As if it was a minor point that made all the difference.  Which it 
did.

     "...I'm going to have a few words," Lina repeated.  Reaffirming 
herself.  "That is the final say in the matter.  Move it, you guys, and get 
the information.  I'll catch up."

     "Very well," Zelgadis said.  "I will hear you out.  Roy, return to 
base.  I will be along shortly."

     Zoamel turned, to leave.  "Penny, this way.  I have no desire to stand 
around and wait for this warlord.  Lina, we will be inside that warehouse."

     The parties reluctantly parted, leaving only Lina and Zelgadis, in a 
stare-down that rivaled the weapons standoff from before.  Lina finally 
broke the silence.

     "Buy you a cup of coffee?"

                                    [*]

     From a quiet, bullet-pockmarked rooftop, a lone figure stood, watching 
the scene from shadows.  He leaned heavily on his walking staff.

     Of course, he had no SPECIFIC reason to be here.  Here, in Darata.  He 
told his companion that all was in hand, and it was, even if he wasn't sure 
what the hand would be holding in the immediate future.  No need to cause 
needless worry, mind you.

     "Knowing her," Xelloss mused to himself, "She's going to need a helping 
hand soon.  She's getting in rather deep, don't you think?  Which is what we 
want, of course.  It wouldn't do otherwise."

     "CAW!"

     "Oh, hush.  There is a purpose in hiding.  Making like good little 
shadowy lurking figures and cackling from afar while doing nothing.. for 
now.  And no, I'm not going to dive in there and explain everything.  Yes, 
that is the most direct route, but it's a sure fire way to fail in the long 
run, as I've said MANY times previous--"

     The bird hopped up and down angrily, flapping wings.  The feathery rage 
merely amused the Mazoku.

     "Now now, what did I say to you when we left?  I said leave this to me.  
Let me handle this MY way.  It's only thanks to me that you're still ALIVE, 
you remember..."

     The raven rustled its feathers, not appreciating the sentiment.  But 
Xelloss simply smiled.  He knew it was true.

     "You should be happy they left you with a single feather," he mocked.  
"I'm not sure I would have, if I was in charge of that Sairaag army.  We.. 
or should I say, YOU got sloppy, and this is the price.  But our revenge 
will come when the time is right, and until then, we pick our actions 
cautiously.  Now quit bothering me, please, it's rather strange to be seen 
talking to a bird."

                                    [*]

     The coffee was poured.  Twin cups, set at the right hand of each old 
friend, the waitress totally unaware of what was going on.  Why there was 
tension over the table.  Of course, she was used to gangs coming in to drink 
and her kevlar apron reduced her overall tension, so she dismissed it and 
left.

     Lina didn't go for her drink.  She wasn't actually thirsty.  But you 
have to have drinks for an encounter like this.  The question was, how to 
open it?  Hi?  How are you?  How's the weather?  So, what have you been 
doing for the last twenty years?  The last time she met someone from her 
past, it hadn't gone well at all--

     "Why did you fight the gangs that were laying siege to the building?" 
Zelgadis asked, skipping the opening move and sliding right into check.  He 
didn't slip into normal Zelgadis Angry And Throttling You Because He Doesn't 
Like Surprises, simply got right to the chase...

     Lina tried to ignore that, and answer honestly with a shrug of the 
shoulders.  "It beats me.  Zoamel says we need to meet someone in there.  
I'm on a quest, you see.  Nothing bad, just a little self improvement.  Why 
do you ask?"

     "I see," Zelgadis stated.  Then, he went for the coffee.  It made a 
good pause, while he sipped, then set the warm cup down.  Then stood up.  
"That makes us enemies.  I will take leave now."

     "Wh-hey, hey!  Whoa, sit your rocky ass down a minute," Lina said, 
putting a hand on his arm.  "That's it?  Hello, how are you, we're enemies?  
Mind explaining WHY we're enemies first?  I like to know these things."

     "It's simple enough," Zelgadis said, sitting down again, a bit 
tentatively.  "First of all, the man in there you seek is likely the one I 
was sent to destroy.  You've already defeated the army of local gangs I had 
organized.  Therefore, you've struck the first blow, and I have no choice 
but to defend my interests."

     "Gangs..?  You ORGANIZED those guys?  Why would you go and do a stupid 
thing like--"

     "Orders," Zelgadis said.  "From Sairaag.  I am their military commander 
now.  This is my mission."

     "Oh?  Got bored doing odd jobs and adventures, huh," Lina said.  "Well, 
a government job is a stable job, so I guess it makes sense--"

     "It's not like that."

     "Then spill it.  What's it like?  And aren't you the LEAST bit 
concerned about why I'm so youthful and full of spunk?  You haven't ASKED!"

     "That's secondary," Zelgadis said.  "My mission is first.  I MUST carry 
this out.  It's vital... to my experiment.  To curing myself.  To becoming a 
full human again."

     "Oh, you found a solution?  Some new spell or ritual?  That's great!  
I--"

     "No magic," Zelgadis said.  "Never again.  You want to know why?  I 
suppose you'll just pester me with questions until I explain, and I don't 
care to be pestered.  So, know this: I don't need magic anymore and I don't 
want it.  Magic killed my sister, Lina.  Slain by men of magic and religion, 
who feared science and what it could do, just because they were stupid and 
prejudiced.  The old way is like that, steeped in 'tradition' and history, 
and unwilling to accept anything unusual... like a chimera in their midst.  
But science is acceptance of theory.  Nobody fears me in Sairaag.  Elizabeth 
doesn't fear me..."

     "What, so you get some new friends and you turn your back on your whole 
way of life?  Zel--"

     "Science can CURE me," Zelgaids reinforced.  "That is what matters.  
What has magic done for me?  Magic destroyed her, cast me out as a freak, 
ruined everything... even Rezo, as much as I hated him, was destroyed by 
trying to use magic to find his cure.  I've made my decision; if I have to 
pick between that flawed philosophy and the new world order, I will side 
with the future.  With Sairaag."

     Lina paused.  THAT she wasn't sure how to react to.  "...I didn't know 
you had a sister," she lamely responded.

     "Now you know," Zelgadis said.  His eyes curled into her, hard as 
stone, a glare that was dead to the world -- a heavy death, that announced 
itself.  "You also know that I will not stop to find this cure.  I've waited 
long enough, Lina.  Too many failures, too much disappointment, too many 
sacrifices -- but now I have the path, and I WILL walk it at all costs.  
That is more than you need to know as to why I'm willing to fight my way 
through you to get to what I need.  As for your second question..."

     Zelgadis brushed a hand over his sleeve, revealing a metal bracelet.  A 
small purplish gray light winked in silence, mounted as a cheap cross-shaped 
jewel on either side of the ring.

     "This tells me that you do not exist," he said, voice dropping from 
stone to ice.  "That you are not Lina Inverse.  I noticed the moment you 
laid your hands on me.  The true human Lina is married and far, far from 
here.  Her, I would never harm, but I am not your friend, and you are my 
enemy.  All of your kind are.  And I will exterminate you.  I just thought 
you'd prefer to know why, if you have any trace of her in you, to know why 
I'm doing this.  To know what I've become."

     Lina didn't fear for her life.  Not yet.  He wouldn't attack her, not 
right here.  Everything had changed, but THAT couldn't have... could it?

     "Of course, I'm not expecting you to fully understand, ghost," Zelgadis 
said, brushing his sleeve back, rising a final time from his chair.  "But I 
will give you until morning.  I require time to reassemble my forces, to 
finish the job.  Your friend cannot escape the city without dealing with the 
snipers, who have not run away.  I will come for him, and then you.  
Prepare."

     Lina sat in stunned silence, as the chimera calmly paid for his drink, 
opened the door, and left.  Her coffee grew quite cold before she left.  And 
her knees were shaking on the way to the dark warehouse entrance, but it 
wasn't from the chill of the weather.

                                    [*]

     Nobody shot her down from unseen corners as she walked to the building, 
and she entered safely, not sure where she was going or why.  But the 
feeling she couldn't shake was driving her on.

     He knew.  He knew she was a Demiurge.. just a Demiurge, not the Lina he 
knew.  He'd gone completely around on his whole way of life, on everything 
he believed in and now was her enemy.  Just like Lina Gabriev had done.  If 
THAT was the kind of warm greeting she could expect from people who knew 
her... who knew Lina... what would the others be like?  What would Gourry 
think of her?  Amelia?  If she ever met them again...

     Maybe she could start over, once she stopped being this memory of Lina 
Inverse.  Become a different person, leave that behind.  A life that she 
wasn't fitting into, that didn't want her -- it already had a Lina.  Once 
she got the damn quest over and became a flesh and blood human again, that's 
what she would do.  Lina didn't ASK for this, and now absolutely did not 
want it.  Someone else could smack Bandits around and eat dinner by proxy, 
not her.

     No wonder the Tooth Fairy got out -- it was creepy, not being your own 
person.

     "Lina!"

     Lina twisted around quickly, ready to blast whoever it was, but wasn't 
so twitchy as to actually fry Penny.  She calmed herself immediately, and 
dropped into a nonchalant smile as the younger girl jogged over.  Never let 
'em see you sweat, that was her way.  Lina's way, at least.

     "Hey, coffee was bland, so I came home.  By the way, Zelgadis probably 
wants to kill us all."

     "Wh-haa?" Penny gaped, skidding to a halt.  "But.. but wasn't he one of 
Mom's best friends?  And yours?"

     "Yes, well, time moves on, and all," Lina stated, dismissing it.  
"Whatever; I plan to be out of here as soon as inhumanly possible.  Did we 
get the information?  Can we go yet?"

     "Err... no.  Drake-san is willing to trade for it, though, and Zoamel 
negotiated out a deal while you were busy."

     "Oh?  Sounds fine here!  What's he want?  We don't have much money, 
but--"

     "He wants us to stay and help defend his gang."

     Lina paused.  Considered all the possible outcomes that COULD have come 
from this, realized this was probably the worst, and smacked her forehead.  
"Oh, joy.  Jolly joy and wondrous whatever.  PENNY!  We've got the Sairaag 
army commanding a bunch of idiots with firearms out there, not to mention a 
gun toting psychotic chimera, and they're gonna swoop in at morning!  What 
was Zoamel THINKING?  I know he doesn't like Sairaag ... after what they 
did, but... he...."

     She figured it out.

     "Vengeance," both girls said simultaneously; one in groaning defeat and 
the other as a cheerful explanation.

     "He DID promise his worshippers he'd exact some from his enemies, after 
all," Penny added.  "It's only natural.  Isn't it exciting?  We're going to 
triumph over the forces of darkness!  I get to help!"

     Lina pushed her way by the younger (but only in a metaphysical sense) 
girl, stomping towards on an underground staircase.  "He's down there, isn't 
he?  Well, it's time I got a good, firm hold on this adventuring party.  I 
AM in charge, after all, and I say we LEAVE!  This won't stand!"

     "But Liiina!"

     "No buts.  C'mon."

     

                           -------------
                           four part two
                           -------------



     As underground bunkers go, this one wasn't so bad.  This was not a 
military facility; it was a place to hang out and relax.

     Someone had taken the liberty of raiding a few furniture stores, 
placing some couches around, some tables.  Not only were they comfortable 
and decorative but they could easily be kicked over and used as cover when a 
gunfight broke out.  And considering how the dozen men lounging around 
listening to bad music were armed to the teeth, a gunfight was practically 
expected.  Maybe some time after the party, of course.

     Lina marched right through the mass of gangsters, to the central table, 
where a single cheap lantern lit the faces of Zoamel Gustav and another man, 
both chatting like old friends...

     She put a hand on the man's chair, and turned him to face her.  "OI!  
Pal!  What's the big idea, not telling us what we need--"

     Eyes locked like steel bars.

     When a lion eyes a gazelle, it doesn't matter if they know each other 
on a first name basis or not -- there's a mutually recognized relationship 
there, a predator-prey sort of thing.  While the bulky, musclebound man with 
a blood red bandanna didn't resemble a gazelle in the slightest, he had that 
same look.  Only for a brief moment.

     Lina felt a tug urging her to kill him, but resisted.

     "Zo, man, you didn't TELL me she was mixed up in this bleep," the man 
growled, in a voice that could grind stone into powder.

     (Of course, he didn't SAY bleep, but the word he said was too nasty to 
repeat, and thus the substitution...)

     "Does it matter, Drake?" Zoamel asked.  "The bargain is with me.  What 
I choose to do with the information is irrelevant."

     "...who is this?" Lina asked Zoamel, trying to ignore Drake, to avoid 
wanting to blow him to bits and take all his money.  It was a weird feeling, 
trying to actively resist slaughtering a bandit...

     "Ah, introductions.  I'm sorry, I forgot my manners," Zoamel 
apologized.  "Lina Inverse, this is your natural enemy, Drake, God of 
Bandits.  Original pagan lord of the thief-tribes.  Savior of the thieves 
and highwaymen, Demiurge of Gangsters--"

     "We've met," Drake spat.  "Not directly, but the bleeper has bleeped up 
more of my followers than you can count on fifty hands.  And this deal is 
bullbleep.  I'm out, Zo."

     Lina turned her back on the Demiurge, face red with anger.  "Same here.  
I am NOT... repeat, NOT, repeat, NOT NOT NOT! Working for bandits!!  I have 
not sunk so low as to associate with scum like that--"

     "We shook hands, Drake," Zoamel reminded, ignoring Lina for now.  "We 
swore to take vengeance on the hunters together -- as brothers of the same 
cloth.  You also swore to tell me where I can find the location of the Tooth 
Fairy.  Did you lie to me about that?"

     "Well, of COURSE he did!" Lina yapped.  "Bandits lie and cheat and 
steal and never keep their--"

     There was a slight scraping of furniture being rearranged, as the other 
dozen men in the room apparently weren't ignoring exchange... they went from 
casual lounging and rapping with each other to looming around the table in 
three seconds.  Someone had even turned off the music.

     "Are you callin' me a liar, Zo?" Drake asked in a slightly louder 
voice.

     Penny stepped a bit closer to Lina, getting nervous.  "Um, Lina, I 
don't like bandits very much either, but this isn't the kind of crowd you 
should be too picky about..."

     "Maybe I ain' hearin' you right, Zo," Drake said.  "I SAID, are you 
callin' me a liar?"

     "That depends on if you are going to lie," Zoamel pointed out, calm as 
a lake in the morning.

     Ball back in his court, Drake considered the phrasing, and frowned.  
"No.  Of course not.  You cover my back against the punks from Sairaag 
today, you get your information.  I KEEP my word.  Boys, back down, we all 
friends here.  I said BACK THE BLEEP DOWN.  Be cool."

     The gang, who were hoping for a little action, grumbled and went back 
to pretending they weren't under siege.  Penny relaxed considerably -- then 
positively melted when Zoamel took her hand, as he rose.

     "Then the deal is settled," Zoamel stated.  "Lina, Penny and I will 
defend your interests against Sairaag."

     "That's right!" Penny exclaimed, with a boost of youthful confidence.  
"By my handcrafted weapon, I'll fight and fight to protect you, in the name 
of justice!  I--"

     Zoamel looked up sharply.  "Actually, Penny, we need to work with 
Drake's alchemist to secure the building and set up some particularly 
unpleasant traps.  I will require your mechanical expertise in the matter."

     Lina blinked a few times, not quite sure when she lost control over 
this conversation.  "Wh.. hey, whoa, Penny, you're not leaving me with--"

     "Haaaai, Zoamel-san!" Penny cheered, her eyes catching every meager 
light source in the room to sparkle.  "Let's go get ready to face the 
enemy!!  Yosh!"

     She practically dragged Zoamel from the room and back up the stairs, 
leaving Lina high and dry.

     "..." Lina retorted.  She turned back to study the man who apparently 
was her nemesis... and caught a wiff.  P-U.

     "Yeah, well, you don' smell like no bed of roses either," Drake said, 
reading the thought, scratching his chin.  "Smell like you got dragged out 
of the ocean and drenched in bad coffee."

     "What's it to you, pal?  I'll have you know--"

     "No," Drake said.  "I'm not in the mood for the typical hero and bandit 
chit-chat.  I'm fighting for my existence here, and I'll take whatever ally 
I can scrape up, you got that?.  If it means you and your bunch, I'll work 
with it, like it or not."

     Lina sat down at the table, leveling her gaze to meet his.  "I don't 
like it, no."

     "So you gonna back out?" Drake asked, sliding two empty cups over, and 
fetching a flask from his hip.  "Zo thinks he can hold you to this, but I 
ain' dim.  You give me your word yourself if you want.  Otherwise, walk 
away.  I don't need some wanna-be bandit killer on my side if she can't put 
away her problems and get on with the IMPORTANT bleep."

     "And what's the important bleep?" Lina asked, supplying the straight 
line.  But admittedly, a bit curious..

     "Survival," Drake explained, pouring out a measure into each cup of a 
nasty, brackish coffee.  "Demiurge survival.  You and I and Zo out there and 
all the others.  You know what's goin' down?"

     "Sairaag's hunting you," Lina said.  "You, and me too.  It's pretty 
obvious now, and yes, that's some pretty important... stuff. "

     "Stuff goin' down all to usher in their shining 'age of reason'," Drake 
said, slinging back his drink.  "Out with the old, in with the new.  First 
they stomp the Mazoku flat at the North Pole, then spook the Dragons into 
hiding, now it's after us small fry.  Figures they can't stand the 
competition."

     Lina shook her head.. and took the drink, without being prompted.  
"There's got to be more to it than that.  I don't know what yet, but... no, 
no.  I'm getting sidetracked.  One thing I don't get, though -- Sairaag's 
here for your head, and this is all you have left?  I thought you were the 
'God of Gangsters'."

     "Faith's harder to find than gold," Drake explained.  "When Sairaag 
came calling, they bribed away the gangs.  I had a good balance goin' here, 
nuturing these kids, gettin' them ready to go into the world and be legends 
and then in swoops those bastards... givin' them all these fancy guns, big 
money, and gettin' them to swear alliegance to Sairaag.  Where's the room 
for some legendary G like me in that?  Pay a man enough and he won't believe 
in anything.  This group, the first I founded, they're the last ones to stay 
with me.  We been tricky, outwittin' the bastards left and right, but it's 
winding down.  Motherbleepers took away all the faith I had left in the 
world..."

     Lina's mind flashed a moment, hitting on the key notion, something that 
had been a nagging unknown...

    "...Demiurges can't die, can they?" she asked.  "But they can be 
DESTROYED, if someone works hard enough at it.  Knocks out their invisible 
means of support.  After all, poison the flock..."

     "'an the shepherd doesn't have a reason to exist anymore," Drake 
finished.  "That's part of it, alright.  Sairaag knows how to wage a war on 
us, and they've just about won here.  This is last ditch magic time, missy 
heroine.  Hell, these few boys may not be enough -- and if the forces of 
science get me pinned, that's it."

     "Zoamel said you types can't be shot to death," Lina said, her mind 
skipping over her own bullet wound just days before.

     "They don't come after us with guns," Drake corrected.  "I've seen 'em 
kill us before, with little gadgets, funny disk things.  Take yo' ass out 
better than a bullet.  But you gotta weaken us first, and girl, I am DAMN 
weak right now.  I ain' fraid to admit that to you, even if you probably 
wanting to cap me right here and now, supposed nemesis and all that.  I need 
any able bodied Demiurge I can get, folks at full power.  Even that girl, 
Penny, she got spunk, she could make the difference too, for a mortal..."

     "I see," Lina said.  Because now she did.

     The bandit killer downed her drink.  The bandit king said nothing, his 
explanation out of the way.  All that remained was a question neither felt 
like asking or answering just yet.  Not until patience wore too thin.

     Drake was the first to crack.  "That's the deal.  The whole deal, 
alright?  So are you gonna be helpin' us or not, Lina?  I won't hold you to 
Zo's deal if you want out.  What's your choice?"

     Lina twirled her cup, thinking.  "Not having you in the world would 
make MY life a lot easier... but it could also weaken me, if you're right.  
What's Lina without bad guys to fight?  But that's besides the point.  I'm 
certainly not going to break a promise a bandit would hold true to, even if 
I never agreed to it.  I'll stay.  But we're GONE once this is over."

     "That's the plan.  I got no problems with that."

     Lina cracked a smile.  "Perfecto.  And once I find out how the Tooth 
Fairy did it, I am OUT of the Demiurge business for good.  I can't see how 
you guys live this way, if you can call it a life!  Hey, do you have any 
munchies?  I haven't had a proper meal all--"

     "So that's why you want to know," Drake said, in a voice quiet enough 
to be overpowered but fierce enough to cut Lina off at the pass.

     "...well, yeah," Lina said, confused.  "What, didn't Zoamel explain the 
quest to you?"

     Drake stood, knocking his chair over in the process.  Glared down at 
the smaller girl once, then waved her to silence.  "I don' feel like talking 
to you right now.  You get ready for the fight tomorrow and leave me alone.  
And like you said... you're GONE once this is over."

     "...?" Lina asked, as the man swiftly but menacingly walked away, an 
interesting feat in itself.  He swung open a side door that led further into 
the underground bunker, and it swung shut behind him only a second later.

     The gang stared at Lina a bit, wondering what had set the boss off so 
bad, but a grumpy look from her was all it took to get them back to field 
stripping weapons and discussing their various sexual conquests.

     Lina looked at the door the God of Gangsters had just passed through.  
"What's eating him NOW?" she wondered aloud.

     But it really didn't matter.  Things were clear cut here -- stick 
around, beat down Zel's hired army, get the information and bolt.  Why 
should she care about another Demiurge, one of bandits for that matter, when 
she wasn't going to be a Demiurge for much longer anyway?

     Why should she care?

                                    [*]

     All the world's a stage, and men and women are merely players.

     But since the players tend not to return in a new hat every time they 
die, they've long recognized the advantage of setting the stage up with some 
nice props before a third act showdown.  The antechamber, the primary floor 
of the warehouse that connected the front gates to the hidden stairwell of 
the hideout, would be the stage, and plenty of trap doors and stage 
explosions were in place.  Literally.

     The young boy stood on his rickety ladder, with a mouth full of screws, 
tightening a hinge on the ceiling trap.  "Maffr," he mumbled, "Woff fey feef 
fiff af file ffafy?"

     "Of course not, lad," his master said, consulting the building 
blueprint. "We're working with the pattern of tiles in the ceiling.  No way 
they'll spot the trap.  That's the key to a good deathtrap, making sure that 
it blends naturally into the scenery, lurking like a hidden predator.  Then, 
the prey trips the invisible wire, and boom!  No more invader.  It's the 
combination, lad.  A physical mechanism based on sound scientific principles 
to trigger the trap, and a stored blend of chemical explosives and magical 
enhancers to produce the flame jets.  It cannot fail!"

     The apprentice finished screwing the trap door in, and CAREFULLY placed 
the bundle of dry chemicals and powders on a small ledge, setting the trap.  
"..right, you said that before," the boy continued.  "But I still think 
they'll spot this.  That's not exactly 'invisible wire', it's just the 
fishing wire you stole from the Bass Lander's Guild--"

     "Appropriated, lad.  We don't use the word steal.  We are 
thaumatological scientists, those who accept that science and magic can work 
in varied and wonderful combinations, not ordinary brigands."

     "Uh, sir, aren't we working for ordinary--"

     "Yes, well, needs be when the devil drives," the alchemist metaphored.  
"After all the money we spent on the dungeon, I have no intention of living 
on cheap sandwiches and cheaper inn rooms.  It's not proper for a man of my 
status.  Not for Lord Noisemaker, finest alchemist in the tri-city-state 
area!"

     "Whatever," his apprentice grumbled.  "Be nice if the finest alchemist 
in the tri-city-state area would climb a few of these damn ladders himself 
for a change--"

     And thus the master did strike the pupil with his staff, and the pupil 
became enlightened.  Specially, he was now enlightened as to how hard the 
floor was.

     A throat cleared itself.

     Lord Noisemaker ignored it.  "I wish you brigands would keep to 
yourself," he said, making another tally mark on his trap chart.  "We're 
doing rather sensitive work here, and I don't need you barbarians setting 
these off before--"

     "We are here to help," Zoamel stated.  He nudged the starry-eyed Penny 
to wake her from her little daydream.  "This girl is an expert in crafting 
weapons and other things mechanical, and I know considerable magic.  How can 
we assist you?"

     'Wai!  He thinks I'm a weaponsmithing expert!' Penny thought to 
herself, missing every word after that point.

     Lord Noisemaker eyed the three.  "Yes, well, you can start with the 
roof, where-- WHERE IN BLAZES DID YOU GET THAT TABLE?!!"

     "Huh?" Penny asked, her little fantasy popping like a cheap balloon.  
She glanced to the Wandering Monster Table sitting on her shoulder, and 
smiled proudly.  "Oh, this is Table-chan.  Isn't he a cute little.. piece of 
furniture?"

     The alchemist fumed better than one of his six chemical composition 
with bonded nuclei potions with optional artificial flavoring.  He raised 
his staff with a knob on the end of it and shook it threateningly, at least, 
as threatening as a bearded, gnarled old man could.  "That's MY blasted 
table!  Are you the one who stole it?!  Return my property immediately, or I 
will be forced to use force!!"

     "Oh, bloody hell," the apprentice grumbled, and dove behind the box of 
explosives to take cover, which was probably not a bright thing to do, but 
he was young and not fully enlightened.

     The table quivered in fear, and hid behind Penny's shoulder.  She 
quickly took her pet table and cradled it protectively, like a mother hen 
with her chick.  "Don't hurt Table-chan!  I'm the one who's cared for him, 
and he likes me more!!"

     The alchemist's staff flared with Combustible Yellow Dye No. 5.  "I 
don't care if you've breastfed him!  That table is thirty years of my work, 
and little girl thief, I have NO problems destroying anything between me and 
my--"

     Zoamel Gustav, Demiurge of Vengeance and Bishounen Cool got between him 
and his table.  While not the world's largest man, he had a way of seeming 
to blot out the sun when need be.  (Regardless of a lack of sun under this 
roof.)

     "Er," Lord Noisemaker completed his threat with, having fallen 
completely in Zoamel's shadow.

     "I'm afraid your table and the girl have grown very attached," Zoamel 
spoke softly, while carrying a big implied stick.  "It would be a tragedy to 
separate them, one which could lead to a rather complicated and bloody quest 
for vengeance, the end result of which would be worse than what you did to 
Billy Snortwat in third circle chemistry class."

     Lord Noisemaker paled visibly, and one hand reflexively protected the 
area in front of his crotch.  "Not the cactus!!-- er, ah... well... yes, 
yes, you're quite right, then.  I wouldn't want to break up a.. happy 
family.  Yes.  When you put it that way, sir."

     "I believe we can complete these traps based on your plans," Zoamel 
pointed out, with a pleasant smile.  "Thank you for assisting Drake in this 
matter.  You will be rewarded--"

     "Ah, now, I was hoping for payment in advance, in case he doesn't 
survive to foot the bill--"

     "If he does not survive, then your traps would have failed, and we 
would not see just cause in paying for the defective labor.  Which is 
probably simpler than paying you now, and having to find you and extract the 
payment plus interest after the fact.  I'm sure you can understand the 
reasoning in my action..?"

     Lord Noisemaker shoved the blueprints into Zoamel's waiting hand, and 
briskly began something between a jog and a flat sprint for the door.  
"Come, young apprentice!  Our work here is finished!!  COME!"

     "But, but, um.." the kid stammered, looking from Zoamel to his master 
and back.  He gave a helpless shrug, and bolted at equal speed.

     Zoamel Gustav sighed, smiling.  "It really is quite nice when people 
listen to reason, rather than resort to base violence.  Now, Penn... y?"

     The young Gabriev clutched her hands under her chin, and her eyes 
managed to glint every weak yet available light source in the room.

     "That.. was.. SOOOO COOL!!!" she exclaimed, bouncing once or twice.  
The table also frolicked in joy, scampering around on the floor, doing a 
touchdown dance.  "Wow!  How'd you know about.. all that?"

     Zoamel shrugged.  "It just sort of comes to me.  It is my area of 
expertise.  Now, let's get these traps set.  I will handle loading the 
magical explosives, you begin assembling trap doors.  We must hurry."

     "Right!" Penny said, brushing up a sleeve.  "Let's get to work,  
Zoamel-chan!"

     The god winced slightly, as the young girl hurredly set up the ladder 
under the next trap, and started disassembling the ceiling tile.  He really 
had little clue what to do with someone who called you '-chan'.  '-sama', 
now, that he was familiar with, but...

                                    [*]

     Morning was quite a few hours away, and Lina was intent on spending the 
time with things of the utmost importance.  With firm determination, and a 
clear understanding of the dangers ahead, she decided she had no choice but 
to join a nearby poker game with the bandits and kill a few hours until 
nightfall.

     It helped that most of the bandits, once they heard her name, tended 
not to want to bluff her out, or even to win against her.  Every time one of 
them grinned at the winning hand he was dealt, a sharp look from the 
legendary Bandit Killer would have him immediately discarding three cards, 
if not folding directly.

     The end result?  Enough cash to feed Lina dinner for the next, oh, two 
or three days.  She had trouble looking over the mammoth stack of chips, due 
to her short stature.

     "HAH!  Check it out!" she said, spreading her cards. "Two pair!"

     One bandit looked at his full house, and quickly put his cards face 
down.  "I lose again," he decided.

     "Muwahahaa," Lina allowed herself to chuckle in a cliched manner, 
gathering in fresh chips.  "So.. check with me on this.  Why aren't you guys 
just running for the hills?"

     "Snipers," the Left Hand Man of the gang replied.  (Who was in fact 
named 'Lefty'.)

     "But Zoamel and I can generate magic defenses to deflect the shots.  
You could easily bolt out of the city."

     "Turf," the Right Hand Man of the gang replied.  (Who was in fact named 
'Dwayne'.)  "This is our turf.  We won't get run off it, not by any new 
gang."

     "Hello?  This is not a gang!  This is the SAIRAAG ARMY!"

     "An army's just a gang with more members," Lefty street-philosophized.  
"We're tight with Drake.  He's gotten us out of more scrapes than I can 
count on six hands.  He'll work things out."

     "Why do you worship that guy, anyway?" Lina asked, spreading her cards.  
Pair of jacks, a sure winner.  "He's not human, you know.  He can't die like 
you guys can.  Odds are in a hundred years he'll be the God of Dental Floss 
or something, anyway."

     "We don't 'worship' Drake," Dwayne replied, anteing in.  "It ain't like 
that.  He's one of US.  He's made us what we are, the best gang in the tri-
city-state area--"

     "What an astounding accomplishment," Lina grumbled.

     "At least we GOT some to be proud of," Left mumbled.

     "...what was that, bandit?"

     "You heard me," Lefty said, not backing down.  He anted more, and drew 
a queen, to complete his straight.  "What accomplishment YOU got?  You kill 
bandits and give the money to yourself.  At least that Hood guy from the 
stories gave to others.  At least we give to ourselves, to feed our 
families.  Oh yeah, Inverse, we all know about you.  Violent, selfish, 
blowing up your own allies when you feel like it, and always lookin' out for 
number one.  No letter 'I'nverse in Team.  Drake was right about you.  You 
ain't nothing to look up to."

     "HEY!" Lina barked, tossing down a lot of her chips, to enter the pot.  
Everybody else IMMEDIATELY folded, and scooted their chairs a good three 
feet from the table.  "What makes you say that?  I've... I've saved the 
world, you know!  That has to be charitable and selfless -- because if it 
wasn't for me, none of you idiots would be alive right now!"

     Lefty stared her down, showing no fear.  "Oh, you save the world for a 
living?  What do you want, a medal?  I don't buy that washed up bard tale 
crap.  Drake was around in the bandit tribes when you were active, he told 
us the truth.  Any time YOU saved the world was just so you wouldn't get 
killed, 'cause you didn't have any choice.  Drake ain't like that at all.  
He'd take a bullet for any of us, and not just 'cause he can't die, he'd do 
it even if he could.  He cares 'bout something other than himself.  Call."

     Lina opened her mouth to protest, before realizing the game was still 
on.  She tossed down her cards.  "Jacks," she said, DARING Lefty to beat it.  
"What do YOU have?"

     Lefty spread his cards with one hand, and scooped most of Lina's loot 
into his own pile.  "Straight.  I beat you.  For a change, you lose to a 
bandit, Lina Inverse.  What're you gonna do about it?"

     Lina kicked out her chair, to stand and loom, but her size actually 
made her a bit shorter.  Instinctively, she thought about charging a 
fireball... then noticed.

     All the bandits had gone from cowering in fear of her, to standing 
behind Lefty, en masse.  Almost daring her to blow them up.

     "Go ahead," Lefty dared her.  "Blow us to hell and take the money all 
for yourself.  It's what you do.  The great legendary Lina Inverse, not some 
world savior or hero at heart, just another damn thief."

     No witty comebacks sprang to mind.  She stared, angered and humiliated 
in front of the group, trying to think of some way to save face and prove 
that she was.. what?  That she was supposed to be feared?  The great and 
terrible Lina Inverse, enemy of all who live, the ally killer, the dragon 
spooker?

     Instead, she turned, and quickly left without a word.  What else should 
she have done?

                                    [*]

     The blueprint was straightforward, simple, and well laid out.  It 
clearly indicated the few traps the alchemist had installed, and did so in a 
very efficient manner.

     Then Penny got her hands on it and it stopped being simple.

     "Okay," she explained, pointing out the various chalk marks she'd made 
where her additions came into play.  "We've got the Death From Above 
fireball chemical invisible wire springtraps from before, and these great 
collapsing supports by the doorframe that fall out of temporal stasis when 
they reach the middle of the room, and the second floor of the building 
that'll collapse into the first floor on command AS WELL AS the rolling 
boomerang fireball trick door that will carve an escape route under the 
nearby block and out into the street, then immediately dive into the waters 
of the bay to flood the building.  Thus, all we have to do is wait for them 
to walk in, then we make a clean getaway!"

     The dark god sat calmly next to Penny in the one safe area of the main 
antechamber, sipping some tea, and nodded along with her description.  He 
mulled over her words, her enthusiasm, and so on.

     If there was one thing a god such as he knew, it was war.  Even in some 
of his less violent roles of the past, he had led people into battle over 
one issue or another.  There are realizations one makes during such a long 
lifetime, that a 'green' human such as Penny had not.

     Perhaps it was time for an object lesson.  He studied the smiling girl, 
so seeking of his praise, and started to assemble the words he required.  
Words could be just as effective a weapon as any trap for catching someone 
off guard.

     "So we make a clean getaway, while they all die," he pointed out.

     "Um, yeah," Penny said, rolling up the blueprint.  "Clever traps, huh?  
And all done with my mechanical know-how and your magic!  What a 
combination!  No army can stand up to us!"

     "Technically, I do not use magic, but that explanation will do.  So, 
once they are all dead, then what?"

     "Then.. we win?" Penny suggested.  "Sairaag's defeated and we leave to 
finish our quest."

     "Except, of course, that Sairaag will not truly be defeated, and will 
likely send replacements immediately while Drake goes into hiding," Zoamel 
pointed out, calm as can be.  "After which, everything begins anew."

     "...yeah, but.. but we'll have stomped them!"

     "Oh, yes.  The traps will work brilliantly, and many will die."

     "So we win!"

     "No, we simply kill a few hundred people.  'Winning' takes more than 
that.  You don't seem too concerned with their deaths, Penny.  Why is that?"

     Penny's grip on the blueprint tightened, as she squirmed in her seat.  
"Well.. because.. they're the enemy, aren't they?  They want to get rid of 
Drake's gang and kill him and that's bad."

     "And murdering them is the right thing to do, then?"

     "Of course not!" Penny exclaimed, getting frustrated.  "I didn't mean 
it was RIGHT--"

     "Thus, hundreds die, and for no reason, since the military will just 
resume, until everybody on one side or another is completely purged," Zoamel 
summarized.  "Wars of this sort end with the conquest of one side or the 
other en masse.  What we do here is amoral and tragic, and you will be one 
of the primary designers of the mass killing."

     The young girl stared, perplexed, while the god explained the 
situation, explained how hopeless it was.  Despair started to creep in over 
the pride she had in a unique mechanical puzzle she had just solved.  "But.. 
but... we can't DO anything else!  Because they'll kill us if we don't kill 
them first!"

     "Ah," Zoamel said, smiling softly.  He took Penny's hand, to try and 
calm the horrified girl.  "And that's why we have to do it, Penny.  That's 
the realization you need to have, to do this, to understand why.  War is not 
right, is not good, but must be dealt with firmly.  Tomorrow... people will 
die.  It is unavoidable.  All we can do is try to stay alive, and try to do 
what we can to minimize the loss.  It is not 'right', but it is the correct 
way."

     Penny's fog of confusion cleared slightly.  She looked across the 
supposedly empty room, where all the traps were set.  "Because.. if we do it 
this way, at least nobody in Drake's gang has to die?"

     "That's correct.  They will escape, momentarily without an army at 
their heels, and live another day.  The war may go on, but the battle will 
be as clean as it can be.  Our vengeance will not be wild and uncontrolled.  
I know you wanted to face the enemy with your.. blade, but that is not the 
way to approach this tactical situation.  Too many would die in straight 
fighting.  This is why I wanted your help on the traps.  Do you understand 
now?"

     Penny Gabriev took a deep breath, calming herself, after that.  "Yeah.  
Yeah, I understand.  I don't like it, though, not in THAT light."

     "Nobody likes war," Zoamel stated, as it was the obvious.  He rose from 
his seat, adjusting his clothes.  "And I am sorry I had to introduce you to 
it this way, but there is no soft way to prepare for eventuality.  We do as 
we must to survive.  Demiurge or human.  I just wanted to prepare you for 
this... because it may not have a happy ending.  For now, you should go 
rest.  It has been hours past, and there are fewer hours remaining than I 
would desire before the battle begins."

     So, Penny tucked the print under one arm, and walked off to the 
sleeping area the gang had laid out.  She smiled, all the way.  Maybe she 
wasn't cut out for war, but Zoamel would see her through this.  He was wise 
beyond her years, after all, and experienced; and everything she admired...

     But her dreams were still troubled, with the faces of people dying.  
Faces she hopefully wouldn't see first hand, as she escaped thanks to her 
craftsmanship, and survived to fight another day.

                                    [*]

     Hours had passed since the poker game.  Nobody in the gang would talk 
to Lina, after that, and it put her in a very foul mood.  She got the 
instinctive impulse to blast the punks for looking at her funny, but 
resisted each time.

     Think they were better than her, did they?  Better than HER, Lina 
Inverse, adventuress, world savior (coincidental, but that didn't matter!) 
and living legend?  She was a god!  What were they!?

     Lina kicked over an empty pile of boxes in disgust.  (It actually was 
piled there so people COULD kick them over in disgust, which was a terrific 
way of keeping stress down in the workplace.)  And what was this crap Drake 
was telling them about her life?  Of course he'd paint her in a bad light, 
he was a BANDIT!  The bandit of bandits!  Grumble grumble mutter bitch growl 
kick stuff over bad mood grrrrr.

     So, unable to sleep, she decided to get up and have what-for with this 
guy.  She didn't get it; they seemed to be getting along fine, when they 
were planning this caper.  Then he just turned on her for no reason at all!  
She'd GET that reason, even if it took red hot pokers to the crot--

     Lina bumped face first into Drake's massive girth.

     "Inverse," he acknowledged, stepping around her to get by in the 
hallway.  But Lina blocked again.  And again.

     "OH, no you don't, pal," she taunted.  "You and I are gonna have some 
words."

     "Whaddya want?  I've got an army to run here," Drake reminded her, 
backing off for now.  "I don't got time for a bleeping washout like you."

     "Who you callin' a washout, you dirty little--"

     "You," Drake said.  "You.  Runnin' away.  Fleein' scared with your tail 
between your legs."

     "I'm here fighting with you, aren't I?" Lina asked.  "You'd think you 
could show some gratitude for that!"

     "That's not what I mean," Drake said.  "I mean.. oh, fine.  You really 
wanna know?  C'mere."

     He put his meaty hand around her slim wrist, and half-dragged her into 
a stock room, away from the echoing hallway.  Lina wrenched her hand free at 
the last second, twice as perturbed.  "What's the meaning--"

     "What I MEAN," Drake explained, "Is you're runnin' away from what you 
are."

     "And what's that, precisely?" Lina asked, leaning casually against a 
shelf full of rifle ammunition.

     "You're a Demiurge," Drake said.  "I don't care if you thought you was 
human once, you aren't now.  You're a Demiurge, and believe it or not, 
you've got believers.  If you turn tail like the Tooth Fairy did, that 
bleeping little piece of bleep, that all goes away, you understand?"

     "So?" Lina asked, not seeing it.

     "SO?  So that means nobody believes in Lina Inverse anymore!" Drake 
spat.  "One of us goes away.. turncoats like the fairy, gets wiped by 
Sairaag, whatever... that's it.  Everybody who believed in you stops 
believin'.  Why you think kids don't put teeth under their pillows anymore?"

     "Zoamel explained all this to me already."

     "Then you know that everybody who looks up to Lina Inverse, everybody 
who sees you as some holy rollin' force of revenge and profit and high 
adventure, they all lose the magic," Drake continued.  "They lose that 
dream.  You don't come for them anymore, you don't quest, you turn on them.  
And they get on with their lives, barely remembering what they saw in you.  
Nobody comes to rob the rich, nobody comes to save someone who calls your 
name.  You LOSE YOUR FLOCK!  It's hard enough to get followers, to nourish 
them and support them and make their lives better through your role, but to 
cut them loose just because.. because you're BLEEPIN' SELFISH is a bleeping 
insult to those of us tryin' to stay alive out here!"

     Lina did wince a little, at that.  But why wince?  She didn't care 
about any of those...

     Penny.

     Penny definitely believed in her.  It wasn't 'worship of a god', 
exactly, but there was a spirit there.  If not for her, maybe Penny wouldn't 
want to go out and be an adventuress.  She'd be content to sit around at 
home, and count money from customers, like her mother.  Lina Gabriev was 
everything Lina Inverse was not, and with no Lina Inverse, who would Penny 
have modeled her life after?  If Lina became human, would Penny still take 
up the poorly chipped blade on a stick and go after fun and profit?

     "You seein' now?" Drake asked, watching Lina's expression play out.  
"It'll happen, Inverse.  You go away, and something gets sucked out of the 
world in your passing.  Maybe a little, maybe a lot, but somethin' that 
means somethin' to people.  No Demiurge wants to do that, wants to screw 
over the people who believe.  God don't wake up one day and tell his people, 
'You're all wasting your time and I'm leaving.'  Ceipheed wouldn't tell that 
to the few people left hoping for his salvation, or the dragons under his 
wing.  If--"

     "Okay, okay," Lina interrupted.  "No need to get all melodramatic on 
the monologue.  I see what you mean.  But what about me?  I HAD a 'human' 
life.  Maybe it wasn't MINE, but it was mine, in other ways.  My friends, 
all of them, even Gou... it's not like you guys were human, right?"

     Drake considered that, and slowly shook his head.  "Naw.  Most of us 
raised out of the primitive tribes, before man even knew how to bleepin' 
write.  Changin' with the times, livin' the roles.  Some newbies, though..."

     "I've got a human memory," Lina said, tapping her head.  "Human 
feelings.  I want to be ME.  I'm not.. I wasn't cut out for this role, and I 
don't know why I have it.  I've got to get out or I'll go stir crazy."

     "I'll admit... that don't make sense to me," Drake said, mellowing 
somewhat after his tirade.  "I never heard of a Demiurge based on a human, 
not this completely.  Sometimes you get legendary people, but they's just 
Demiurges who grew into the role after losing a previous one, like Zoamel."

     "It's absolutely nuts, being a Demiurge who thinks she's human," Lina 
pointed out.  "And that's why I've got to change.  I can't get used to this.  
You promised to tell us where the Tooth Fairy is, right?  You swore."

     "...yeah, I did.  I don't break my word.  But I still don't like what 
you tryin' to do.  It ain't right."

     "Then I'm sorry if you don't like my reasons," Lina said, a bit 
sarcastic in tone, "But they're mine and you're going to help.  I promised 
to help your rag-tag group with all the magic I can muster, too, and I'll do 
just--"

     "You don't use magic," Drake said, matter of factly.

     "Ah?  Yes, yes I do.  I'm pretty well known for it, in fact."

     "Lina Inverse was.  YOU ain't.  You're using your nature."

     "My what?"

     "Your nature," Drake repeated, sick of repeating things.  "Demiurge 
nature.  Your power to shape the world, fueled by belief.  Demiurge also 
means 'creator of the world', and that's what we bleepin' do, day in day 
out.  Maybe not raisin' mountains unless the situation calls for it but we 
leave ripples.  What you call magic?  That's just you tappin' your abilities 
and sayin' funny words."

     "Soooo... I'm not REALLY using black magic, based on the demon king 
Shaburanigdo or anything... I'm just remembering how spells work and doing 
them on instinct?" Lina guessed.

     "Hey, good call," Drake said, with a wide grin.  "Maybe make a good 
Demiurge out of you yet.  Probably that human memory, it knows 'Lina does 
magic', so bam, you LOOK like you do your bleepin' bibbity bobbity bleepin' 
bleep boo just like you always did."

     "Er.. what else would I do?" Lina asked, confused.  (Also with her ears 
starting to turn red from all the cursing.)

     "Whatever people believe you can do," Drake said, with a shrug.  "Ain't 
it obvious?  You are the legendary Lina, not the human Lina Inverse.  If 
people think you can turn mountains into molehills, you can."

     "But I could always do that."

     "Exactly.  See?"

     Lina closed her eyes.  If she could do whatever Lina Inverse could 
SUPPOSEDLY do....

     Her mind span, just for a brief moment.  She didn't control it, it just 
happened, instinct, nature.  It touched down on a very scared pastry chef 
somewhere on the other side of the world, where she had stomped through 
during her quest with Filia.  He frequently had nightmares about an orange 
haired sorceress who could summon food from the very air and devour it to 
satiate her endless hunger...

     She opened her eyes, and tapped 'magic power', as she always did.  Then 
spoke the chaos words that formed the spell.

     "CREATE FOOD!!"

     A turkey leg fell into her hand, steaming and juicy.

     Suddenly, being a god for all of eternity didn't look so bad.  Her eyes 
glazed over in absolute bliss, as they reflected the perfection of roasted 
bird, spawned into being by her will alone.  Lina went to take a bite...

     ...and her teeth clacked together, catching nothing.

     "...'course.. generally, your power only works FOR your flock," Drake 
said, with a bleep eating grin that stretched from ear to ear, as Lina's 
food proved less than substantial.  "After all, we exist to serve them as 
their gods, not to make ourselves dinner.  But hey, you wanna go give that 
to Penny, maybe she'd want it..."

     Lina sighed, and tossed the drumstick she couldn't even chew away in 
disgust.  "I hate being a god," she decided.

     Drake glanced at his clockwork pocket watch, tracking the complex gears 
and tick marks.  "It's bleepin' late.  You tired?"

     Fatigue immediately hit Lina like the Aquatic Mongoose at full speed, 
right when Lina was reminded of the time.  "Yeah... guess I better get some 
sleep--"

     "You don't gotta," Drake said, pocketing the watch.  "Demiurges don't 
need to sleep.  Just resist it."

     Lina rubbed her eyes.  "Yeah?  Easier said than done.  How do you 
propose that, just whisk the sleep away?"

     "Sure.  All you gotta do is realize the truth."

     "The truth?" Lina asked.

     "There is no spoon," Drake said, with utmost mystery.

     Lina stared at him with drooping eyes and a slack jaw.

     "....what the hell are you talking about?"

     "I don't know, just some bleep Zoamel came up with couple centuries 
back when we got drunk in a restaurant and couldn't pay the bill," Drake 
said.  "Whatever.  Go get some sleep.  In the mornin'... it's war."

     

                           ---------------
                           four part three
                           ---------------





     Morning rose over Darata, as it would any other city.  It wasn't a 
particularly memorable sunrise, no extra gusto, no ominous darkness before 
the dawn.  Business as usual was the modus of the day.

     Zelgadis stood at the window, watching the warehouse with his 
binoculars.  He twisted a dial for the focus, and added a filter to cut out 
the glare of the dawning sun.  In a few minutes, he'd lead a hundred-odd 
poorly trained bandits to their grisly demise so he could eliminate one man.  
Which was also business as usual, and not particularly worrying for him.

     Except...

     "Looks straightforward to me," Roy Balderdash said, with little to no 
enthusiasm for the job.  "Just send the boys in, wait for the slaughter to 
die down and we can peg the target while pinned.  It's a dead end in there, 
after all."

     "He's escaped from the last four dead ends," Zelgadis reminded.  "But 
I'm not worried about Drake right now.  I don't like that some demiurge 
posing as Lina Inverse is involved in this.  If she is anything like the 
true Lina Inverse.. was, then we have a variable factor I don't care for."

     "I don't care if she's the real Lina or not," Roy grumbled.  "I OWE her 
for the humiliation she's dumped on me.  It's a geas of honor, can't be 
helped.  You go after our boy, I claim Lina.  Besides.. you're going to want 
my limited magic if you're not going to lift a mystic finger to help us--"

     "I don't do that any more," Zelgadis snapped, voice like iced over 
frozen crystallized water with jagged pointy bits on it.  "If you insist on 
using the powers of those would-be tyrants Shaburanigdo and Ceipheed, go 
right ahead.  I doubt you'll survive this encounter anyway."

     Roy twirled his sword once or twice, before sheathing it.  "You don't 
know Balderdashes very well, then.  We're persistent little bastards. 
Considering you're shacking up with one, I'm surprised you haven't realized 
that by--"

     "I'm going in," Zelgadis decided, setting the binoculars down.

     "About time.  You want me to lead the boys down there for the first 
wave of cannon fodder?"

     "No," Zelgadis said.  "I'm going alone."

     "It'll be a glorious funeral," Roy mused, pleased by the thought.

     The 'young' chimera slung his gunblade around to his back, and looked 
around the room, while explaining himself.  "Lina Inverse changes this whole 
situation.  This is not a war of two poorly trained, unsophisticated and 
expendable forces anymore.  It's a war of methodologies.  They are in a dead 
end, but that dead end has only one visible door, and that is the one they 
will expect us to use -- since to burrow underground or create any other 
entrance would be immediately spotted, blowing the element of surprise, and 
giving them time to prepare..."

     "Get to the point," Roy spat, leaning on the wall.  "I'm not getting 
any younger."

     "Lina is expecting the stupid bandits to run right through the front 
door," Zelgadis concluded.  "Right where there she's set plenty of traps, 
while she uses some magical trick to get out of an inescapable dead end.  
Therefore, I'll have to deliver an action she is not expecting, something 
that few people have tried to do -- because it is not... 'dramatically 
appropriate.'"

     "Aaaand that would be, boss?"

     Zelgadis found what we has looking for; a compact black box, with 
various warning signs painted all over it.  He lifted the hundred pound 
object with effortless ease.

     "I'm simply going to kill them all," he stated.

                                    [*]

     The next morning, the scene was one of a one-sided gunfight.  The 
bandits were huddled around behind overturned furniture, weapons loaded, 
cocked and ready.  Everybody was aimed in one direction, since it was the 
only direction they COULD enter from.  Assuming anyone survived the journey 
between the door and the central compound.

     There was one problem.  Hours had gone by, and nobody had entered.

     "We should've put some kinda visual link to the antechamber," Drake 
muttered.  "If I'd just brought some mirrors and wire we could have rigged 
up a sweet--"

     "We have no scrying spells or spying equipment, and wanting them now 
will not change that," Zoamel whispered, crouched right next to him behind a 
sofa.  "Therefore, to worry about them is a waste of energy.  We will hear 
them just fine when the traps go off, and you know our hearing is fine 
enough to detect if they try to approach through the ground.  We will have 
the jump on them, one way or the other."

     "My traps won't fail," Penny said proudly, crouched right next to 
Zoamel.  "This war will be over without so much as a shot fired!"

     Lina, however, took a more casual approach to war.  She sat back, 
totally open to any crossfire that wasn't coming, and sipped a mug of really 
nasty coffee.

     "That's really boring," she said.  "I still say I fly out there, put up 
a shield to stop their stupid little bullets and just trash everything.  
Then we'd see a little action!"

     Drake glared back at her.  "You stayin' HERE, Inverse.  We need your 
'magic' in case things get tight.  Besides, I may not be the most civic 
minded guy, but I don't like the idea of you blastin' the bleep out of my 
city like some trigger happy little--"

     "Wait!" Penny said, waving her arms to shush them.  "...did you hear 
that?  It was really really faint, but I think someone's out there..."

     "A twang," Zoamel confirmed, cocking one ear to the entrance of the 
chamber.  "One of our tripwires.  It's started.  We should be hearing the 
explosions any second now."

     Nothing blew up.  Lina couldn't hear anything at all, but from the 
reactions on Drake and Zoamel's face, things weren't good.  Whenever a 
Demiurge shows concerned confusion, it's time to get nervous.

     "The hell is going on out there?" Lina asked, getting up from her seat, 
dumping the black muck out of her mug.  "Something's going down and we're 
all sitting on our duffs.  I don't like it.  I'm gonna take a look."

     "Lina, wait!!" Penny protested, but it didn't do much to stop Inverse, 
who was already weaving nonchalantly around the rows of furniture, past the 
incredulous looks of gangsters accustomed to face to face duck and shooting 
fights...

     She ignored Drake's hushed shouts, and stepped up the stairs, to poke 
her head out into the antechamber.  The huge, deceptively empty antichamber, 
where nobody stood.

     Zelgadis was in fact standing just in the doorway, on his way out.  A 
string of expertly disabled traps connected his steps from the entrance to 
the middle of the room, where he had left a large black box, with a single 
flashing sign that read 'ARMED'.

     Lina stared at it in confusion, then looked up to Zelgadis, her look 
asking a question that he never answered.  There was no rant, no nyahaha, no 
explanation -- the chimera simply nodded once, in confirmation, and stepped 
into a waiting Ornithopter, which flew off quickly.

     Her pulse raced.  She knew on some innate level that this was very, 
very bad...

     She turned around, to shout down the stairs at the nervous bandit gang.  
"Guys!!  There's something--"

     Hell erupted.

     So this is it, part of Lina thought, as a white-hot chemical fire 
enveloped her completely, moving in slow motion like liquid agony.  Clothing 
and skin boiling away into vapor.  I'm going to die.  Not only am I dying, 
but I'm dying in a rather stupid way.  Some legend she'd turned out to be.
 
     No, wait, that's not right, another part of her said, as the flames 
rushed past her, down the stairs, flooding the room... I'm a legend, aren't 
I?  A Demiurge.  Drake explained it to me.  I don't sleep, I don't really 
need to eat, and I can't die like this.  There is no spoon, or fork, or 
goblet or whatever.  So I simply won't die.

     It was a strange sensation.  For moments, there she was, standing in 
the wake of the fire, where ordinary people would be long dead.  She didn't 
feel anything in particular.  Not numbness, not heat, not pain, just as if 
the fire wasn't really there.  Her clothes, which had started to flare and 
boil away, reformed themselves at the speed of thought.

     Every single trap in the room went off at once.  She watched in queer 
fascination, as the balls of potent energy dropped from the ceiling, as the 
'escape' trick screwed itself up, knocked askew by the initial blast, and 
carved up through the roof instead.  The whole scenario took less than five 
seconds from burn up to flare out and silence, when all the oxygen in the 
antechamber was gone, but it felt like five minutes to her expanded senses.

     On the sixth minute/second, she had a thought: Penny was down there.  
That snapped her back to the here and now faster than a broken rubber band.

     She dove through the dying flames, literally flying down the steps 
instead of jumping, and skidded -- slipped -- to a halt in the blackened, 
melted room.

     Everything was gone.  All the bandits were little more than a charred 
red paste, the furniture ashes.  The fire had swept through perfectly, just 
as intended, to flush out the room of all life.

     White flash-shadows hung on the far wall, outlining the forms of Drake 
and Zoamel, who were completely unharmed, but definitely not happy campers.

     "MOTHERBLEEPER!!" Drake screamed, snapping a fresh pair of pistols into 
his hands using his innate powers over war.  "Cowardly little bleeping 
godbleep bleeping mother--"

     "Lina, quickly!" Zoamel shouted, waving her over.. having to release 
his arm to do it, which was wrapped around Penny, as he had shielded her as 
much as he could with his body.

     Lina just.. appeared right next to Zoamel, not stopping to think about 
how, and studied Penny.

     It was awful.  Burns covered her skin, her clothing shredded, as her 
breathing was slowing.  The Wandering Monster Table, being made of stone and 
thus fireproof, was bouncing up and down in a fury of worry.  (In some queer 
twist of logic, her poorly made staff had escaped with only slight smoke 
damage.)

     Lina rubbed her hands together.  "White magic isn't my forte..."

     "Then find someone who believes that it is," Zoamel replied, with 
speed.

     ...arcing outward, to a distant country she had passed through once 
with Naga, where a little boy had skinned his knee and she applied a little 
healing magic (in return for directions to the Sacred Dungeon of Golden 
Idols) and how that little boy grew to believe in the strange savior with 
powerful healing ability who saved his life, blown completely out of 
proportion in the way only a small child can...

     A rush hit Lina, as she started to work, pouring the white magic-like 
feeling into Penny's body.  Not flowing fast enough, but not drying up, at 
least.  All she needed was a few minutes--

     "Whaddya know, a few people survived!  Go figure."

     Lina turned quickly.. to see Roy Balderdash, bouncing his sword lightly 
against his shoulder as he framed the door, with a thundering horde of armed 
bandits behind him.  Zelgadis stood to the side, content to watch for now.

     Drake turned.. and stood as he turned, an uncoiling, like a snake 
poised to strike.  "Stick with Penny," he commanded, without looking at 
Lina, his gaze locked dead onto Roy.

     "So you're the infamous Drake that Zelgadis keeps going on about?" Roy 
asked, drawing his sword, waving for the army to hang back.  "Not much.  But 
bandits outside Zeifelia rarely impress me.  You're too soft."

     "And you got that sword off a merchant who had nothing left on his back 
but food for his family and toys for the holidays," Drake spoke, each word 
like venom.  "All when you had food in your belly.  Who's soft, Roy 
Cornelius Balderdash?  The thief who takes or the bandit who prospers?"

     Roy's face went a dead pale.  His sword hand shook, as his eyes trailed 
off the edge of the blade, and back to Drake.  "How.. how did you--"

     "This is pointless," Zelgadis warned, fingering an object palmed to his 
hand...

     "I want to know how you knew that!!" Roy asked, shaking his sword at 
Drake.  "You from his family?  You want revenge?  I was young!  I thought I 
was being a hardass--"

     "Everything you steal, every enemy you conquer, every prize you take, 
you take in my name," Drake spoke, not going for his guns, but laying on a 
voice like lead from the heavens.  Cold, factual menace, like a dark god 
would.  "Don't you recognize me, Roy?  I'm your maker.  I'm the bandit of 
bandits.  You feel it in your bones, that call, the quest for power and 
money and survival.  You can't kill what you are.  You can't attack me.  You 
know I'm the only one who truly gives a damn about you, with all his heart.  
Not yo mamma, definitely not your sister.  Me."

     Roy's knees weakened in an instant, falling to them, the sword 
dropping.  He had no idea who this strange man was.  But he KNEW who this 
strange man was, like a memory in the back of his mind every day of his 
career as a bandit...

     He wasn't able to raise his hand to his ideal.

     Zelgadis was.

     "Kill them," he commanded quietly.  And the army streamed into the 
room, waving their guns, ready to swamp en-masse.

     Lina didn't fight.  How could she?  She was too busy closing Penny's 
wounds, regenerating her burns, healing her.  It was like the explosion... 
things happened around her, and she watched, in some strange detached 
fashion as the new state of being flowed through her, and into Penny.

     It was a gun battle, for starters.  Drake was fast, though; he was the 
very definition of the two gun mojo, and mowed down his former believers 
faster than a scythe over wheat.  Bullets ricocheted and bounced, but for 
some reason, never hit Lina or Penny.  (Was Lina doing that?  No, she wasn't 
doing that, not even as a Demiurge.  Neither were Zoamel or Drake.  But she 
tried really hard not to think about HOW it was happening...)

     Seconds later, Zoamel was into it.  The normally peaceful and reserved 
gentleman let out a war cry that only a god of wrath could, and the monster 
was there; the mask of Zoamel Gustav sliding into place, like rubber over 
skin, arms and tendrils growing.  It was time to take that vengeance his 
believers had sent him for.

     THAT sent half the army trying to get back through the jammed door, 
while the other half got cut down, tossed around, pounded against the walls 
in a variety of awkward ways.

     It was just as much a slaughter to their forces as the first attack had 
been to Drake's forces.  But somehow, through the chaos and confusion, 
Zelgadis stood with absolute calm.. his eyes fixed on Lina.  Waiting for the 
right moment.

     It came, when Drake blasted a few clear of the line of sight connecting 
the Demiurge of Bandit Killers with the Chimera of Demiurge Killers.  
Zelgadis snapped his wrist immediately, flinging out... a strange white 
disc, with a dull purple cross embossed on either side.  It cracked with 
purple energy as it shot through the air, having nothing to stop it from 
getting to Lina, Lina too busy to react fast enough to it...

     Drake was fast enough.

     "LINA!" he shouted, to try and get her attention, as he dove sideways, 
firing at Zelgadis with one hand, while he tried to slap the disc out of its 
flight path with his other gun... trying VERY carefully not to touch it with 
his actual body...

     It didn't work.

     Drake went down hard, skidding across the floor and into a wall, as the 
white disc clamped down hard onto his hand, making him drop the gun.  Purple 
lightning sparked all over his body, as he screamed in pain.  A god in pain.

     Zoamel reverted immediately to his human form, and ran to his friend's 
aid -- the bandits just ran for it.  The room was near empty in short time.

     "STAY BACK!" Drake shouted, in warning.  "You touch this thing you'll-- 
GH! Go too!"

     Lina glanced at Penny.. who was healed ENOUGH for now, in her opinion.  
She set her down as softly as she could, and also gathered to see what was 
going on.  "What the hell is going on?", in fact, was her specific request.

     Drake's body was.. vanishing.  Almost all of his true followers were 
gone now, and weakened, he couldn't do anything to stop it.  The disc 
continued to erase his being, a danger Lina couldn't bring herself to face 
to knock the disc away -- something deep down spoke of impossible danger, 
and restrained her.

     ".. he's.. he's in Atlas City," Drake grimaced, through teeth grinding 
to powder.  "Ask for him there.  Zo.. sorry, my man.  I bleeped up..."

     With a final groan, he gave out, and vanished.  The purple sparks 
hovered in a Drake-like shape for a moment, before the disc snapped back 
across the room, into Zelgadis's waiting hand.

     The two sides faced off, in silent loathing of each other, just for a 
moment.  Zelgadis did hold the key to killing Zoamel and Lina, and nobody 
was about to trigger that off.

     "My mission is complete," Zelgadis stated, breaking the silence.  "This 
is all that I require.  Roy?"

     "...?" the catatonic bandit asked, as he had been shoved off against a 
wall in the fray.

     Zelgadis tapped a small metal box at his waist.  It gave a steam hiss, 
and a circular black portal opened in space, against all known laws of 
physics.  "We're leaving," he said, without bothering to address Lina or 
Zoamel.  He grasped Roy's tunic, and yanked him in after.  The portal closed 
immediately.

     The room was then silent.

     The ancient spirit of vengeance clenched one hand.  But that was all 
the emotion he showed, as he watched the space Zelgadis occupied with cold 
dispassion.

     "What's going on?"

     Both turned back, to see Penny, who had woken up right when the show 
ended.

     "Did I miss something?" she asked.  "Jeez, everything hurts... where 
did everybody go?  Did they escape?  Did we win?"

     "...you didn't miss anything," Lina decided, getting to her feet.  A 
look of determination on her face.  "And we were just leaving, anyway.  You 
know of a fast way to get to Atlas city, Penny?"

     Penny rubbed her forehead, looking at the empty, blackened room with a 
bit of befuddlement.  "Uh, yeah..."

     "Then we're leaving," Lina said.  She stepped her way to the soot-
covered stairs, and exited.

     The young Gabriev turned to Zoamel, hoping for some sort of an 
explanation.

     "I warned you this may not have a happy ending," he reminded.

                                    [*]

     Two blocks away, a figure stepped out of shadows, figuring this was a 
safe enough distance.  Then he coughed up a quart of blood.  A raven 
fluttered out of shadow behind him, and perched on his staff.

     "...I have to say," Xelloss commented, through the choking.  "I rather 
dislike the taste of lead."

     "CAWWW!!"

     "You know I couldn't have stopped that Eradicator," Xelloss snapped, 
while trying to plug various wounds in his body with his fingers.  "I'm 
simply delighted I managed to redirect all those bullets so Lina wouldn't be 
holey rather than holy.  I'm not sure if she could have survived them, after 
blowing so much of her self.  She really has to learn to conserve."

     The bird fluttered angrily, pecking -- until Xelloss simply grabbed the 
avian in his fist, bird in hand, looking quite peeved.

     "YOU are no longer in charge of anything, Beastmaster Zelas," he 
reminded.  "I run this mission.  I dictate the flow of it, when we act, what 
we do.  Your squeaky little voice annoys me.  Your throne at Wolf Pack 
Island is shattered, and I don't feel like taking your orders.  Be silent, 
unless you WANT me to leave you behind next time, to live on dead flesh and 
never again to have four proper limbs."

     The bird made absolutely no noise, and rustled no feathers.

     The Mazoku smiled.

     "Much better," he decided.  "Now, be a good little bird and go find me 
someone who I can scare to death.  I need some energy.  Oy vey, what a day."

                                    [*]

     The end of another long day.  Business as usual.

     Zelgadis hung his gunblade up by the bedpost, and took off his boots.  
Roy Balderdash had, as predicted, been useless.  The army was also useless, 
aside from a distraction.  His plan, however, was a success.

     He knew how to deal with Lina Inverse, or some cheap copy thereof.  If 
he met with her again... and he would, eventually, as all the Demiurges 
needed to be purged to allow for the modern age... he had no concerns about 
containing her.

     The door chimed.  Elizabeth entered.  He gave his report, she wrote it 
down, and that was the end, except for one small thing.

     "I'll need to recharge your Eradicator," she stated.  "It's probably 
quite drained at this point."

     Zelgadis nodded and handed it over.  Nothing strange about that.

     "Get some sleep," Elizabeth suggested.  "We have a few days until our 
next campaign.  Perhaps we can spend them with each other, instead of with 
paperwork.  Would you like that?"

     "Yes, I would," Zelgadis responded, quite plainly.  "Until then."

                                    [*]

     A long, long road winds between Darata and Zeifelia.

     To travel it by horse takes an absurd amount of time, but on a 
captain's salary, it was all he could manage.  Besides, Penny had lifted her 
trust fund before running away from home.

     But one way or another, he'd catch up with her, and bring her back 
home.  Besides, if he didn't, Lina would KILL him.

                                    [*]

     The fortress in Sairaag is basically a large machine.  It has 
mechanical doors, mechanical heat regulation, mechanical view screens and 
mathematical tools and all sorts of other widgets and scientific feats.

     Powering all this is a core.  It's kept in the basement, since it's 
really of no interest in the face of all the automatic doors and air 
conditioners and so on.  A sleepy guy monitors it, but it doesn't need 
monitoring.

     Elizabeth walked right by the guard, who slept right through the click 
of her heels on the pitted metal floor.  She fingered the Eradicator, turned 
it the appropriate direction, and slipped it into a slot on the very front 
of Sairaag's power core.

     Purple sparks flew from the slot; energy was transferred.  Satisfied, 
the machine spat the disc back into her hand, the cross no longer glowing as 
brightly as it had before.

     The scientist smiled, a rare gesture on her behalf, and stroked the 
cold metal of the core.

     "Soon," she whispered.  "Very soon.  It will be your era."

     
     

                              [To Be Continued]







Author's Note: I don't like this one very much, and it took too long to 
write.  But I had to get through it, to get to the good stuff lying up 
ahead.  Pardon any perceived mess.





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