Artemis cleared this throat.  "If you're going to be that way -- I think
I was with Ami when it started, actually," he said.  "She was --"


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


========================================================================
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CRYSTAL TOKYO
THE REIGN OF QUEEN SERENITY II
------------------------------------------------------------------------
========================================================================

----------------
22 October, 3477
----------------

Ami listened to Artemis with half an ear as she worked.  She was sitting
in her workshop, a large room filled with bookshelves, equipment
benches and computer terminals, going through a fairly dense
scientific paper of some kind, and occasionally tapping in an
annotation.  Artemis was not offended; he knew that she was listening to
him.

"-- Just can't get her to commit herself to anything," he was saying.
"Luna hasn't had any better luck.  Maybe if you could speak to her?"  He
waited hopefully.

"If Luna can't persuade her, I doubt that I'd be able to do any better,"
Ami said calmly.  "Endymion would have more chance."

"He won't touch it.  He's already been through it himself.  He just
laughed when I tried to talk him into it."

"He would."  Ami looked up for a moment and smiled.  The Queen's Consort
affected a dignified (and occasionally rather pompous) manner in public,
but privately he had not changed much, and he had a fairly shrewd idea
of when it was wisest to stay out of an argument.

"I really don't think you've got anything to worry about, though," she
went on, looking back at her screen.  "Serenity would never let everyone
down by refusing to make an appearance.  She's just dragging her feet a
little.  I can't say I blame her."

Artemis could sympathise with that, too.  Some of the plans that were
being proposed for the following year's celebrations of Serenity's
1500th birthday would have made anybody shudder.  But still --

"Okay, the whole System is going nuts about this," he admitted.  "But you
know there has to be _some_ kind of ceremony, and I can't even get her to
confirm where she'll be on the day!  And some of the plans those people
are talking about will take months of preparation."

"Give her time," Ami advised.  "You know Serenity.  She'll do it in the
end.  Anyway, surely she'll be here on the day?"

"She's been making hints about wanting to spend it in the old palace on
the Moon."

Ami raised her eyebrows.  "Now that _is_ an interesting idea.  You're
right, though; it'd take a lot of preparation."

"That's what I keep telling her."

"Anyway, you might try asking Rei about it.  She's an old pro at getting
Serenity to do things.  Oh, for heaven's sake!"

"Rei said she didn't want to -- what's wrong?"

"Nothing's _wrong_."  Ami stared at her screen, looking irritated.
"What on Earth are they thinking of?  This is nonsense!"

Artemis stepped closer to look at what she was reading.  "What is it?"

"It's a new geological survey of Japan, mapping underground structures
and deposits.  The team that did it used a new resonance-echo technique
that they hoped would give them much greater resolution and accuracy.  I
designed some monitoring systems for them, and I think they got Haruka
in to trigger seismic echo-pulses."

"What, doing a 'world shaking' for real?"  Artemis laughed.  "Well, I
guess it's a change for her.  So what's the problem?"

"Oh -- they got a signal back that their theory won't explain.  It's a
localised region that doesn't act quite they way they think it should.
It's right at the limit of accuracy, so it's quite likely to be a simple
error.  But instead, they're calling it a mascon.  Of all things!"

"Um ..."  Artemis cleared his throat.  "Maybe you know what a mascon is,
Ami, but ..."

Ami sighed.  "Never mind.  It's not important.  It's just lucky I
noticed this before publication.  Let me get this cleared up --"

She started to type rapidly, her eyes far away.  Artemis watched for a
minute or two longer, then gave up and left her to it.  He decided to
try asking Rei for help again.

                                --**--

As luck would have it, he found Rei in the royal quarters, talking to
the Queen.  There was no more official business scheduled that
afternoon, and the two were cheerful and relaxed, chatting amiably.
Serenity had doffed her more formal dress and was wearing a simple cream
blouse and skirt; and Rei was actually out of her Senshi costume, which
she tended to wear as a uniform, and dressed in a sloppy pair of shorts
and a T-shirt.

"Hi, Artemis," said Rei as he came in.  "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much," he answered.  "Minako called in to say she's getting
bored up on the L-307 habitat and she's coming home.  Ami's getting all
worked up about a geological survey.  Diana says she wants to dye her
fur blue, but Luna says she'll disown her if she does.  You?"

Rei shrugged.  "Pretty quiet."

"Blue?" said Serenity, interested.  "Why blue?"

Artemis shook his head.  "I've given up trying to understand fashion,
even for humans.  Fashion for cats is ..."  He shuddered.  "I don't want
to think about it."

"Hmm."  To his alarm, he saw that the Queen was giving him a speculative
look.  "What do you think, Rei-chan?  If he dyed his whiskers red ..."

"What?  No!"

But Rei had a devilish glint in her own eye.  "That could work," she
agreed, smirking visibly.  "Or maybe -- just the tip of his tail --"

"No, that would make him look like a fly whisk.  Perhaps a ginger streak
down his spine ...?"

"I'll tell you what," said Artemis icily.  "If you can persuade Endymion
to go blond, I'll dye my whiskers."

They exchanged glances.  "Hmm," they chorused.

Endymion chose that moment to walk in.  He walked over to Serenity and
bent to kiss her cheek, but stopped short as he saw the look that both
women were giving him.  "What?" he said nervously.

Serenity and Rei looked at each other again, and burst out laughing.
"All right, Artemis," Serenity admitted.  "You win.  I can't imagine
that at all."

"I can," said Rei.  "I could get Ami-chan to do a simulation for you, so
you can see what it'd be like."  She started to snicker again.

"What are you talking about?" asked Endymion.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Artemis muttered.

"Now, now," Rei admonished.  "Be nice, or I'll tell Minako about this."

He flinched.  "Don't," he begged.  "Please.  She'd think it was a good
idea.  She'd ... she'd do it to me in my sleep!"

"I think I really _don't_ want to know what this is about," Endymion
said, grinning.  "Not if it involves what you and Minako do in your
sleep."

Artemis groaned.  Not _that_ old rumour again.  Hastily changing the
subject, he said, "Look, Rei, I wanted to see you, but --"  He glanced
at the Queen.  "It can wait.  I'll catch you later --"

Serenity looked at him, her eyes narrowing.  "This isn't about the
ceremonies next year, is it?" she asked suspiciously.  Endymion started
to laugh.

"Well ... yes," Artemis admitted.

"Oh, and you wanted me to do your dirty work for you and talk her into
something?" demanded Rei, annoyed.

"Yes!  -- No!  It's not like that!" he protested.  "Look, a lot of the
planning has to be done a long way ahead!  Especially if you really want
to have it on the moon.  We're already pushing the deadline for some of
the proposals --"

Rei gave Serenity a curious look.  "The moon?" she asked.  "What have
you been telling him?"

Serenity looked innocent.  "Just a thought," she said.

Endymion sat down next to her.  "Artemis does have a point, you know,
love," he told her.  "You're being a bit unfair, putting things off like
this."

"But --"  She sighed.  "I just want it to be a private day," she said.
"Just you, me, Usagi, and the Senshi."

"I know," he said comfortingly.  "But something like this is just too
big to keep private.  'Noblesse oblige,' remember.  Your people want to
show that they love you."

She looked away, sighing again.  At last, resigned, she said, "All
right.  Let me see the plans tomorrow, Artemis.  I'll go through them
with Luna, and we'll decide what we'll do."

"Er -- what about the moon idea?" Artemis pressed.

She shook her head, smiling sadly.  "No.  The old palace there has been
undisturbed this long ... let it keep its dead."

"All right."  Privately, Artemis was relieved.  He hadn't liked the moon
idea much; the thought of returning there stirred old, old memories that
he would just as rather let lie, forgotten.

"Just keep the ceremonies down to a reasonable length," Serenity
ordered.  "Six hours total, maximum.  I want _some_ time for family and
friends --"

"You think we'd miss it?" said Rei, smiling.  "You gave us all the year
off, remember.  Half of us are here already.  Mina-chan's on her way.
The others will be back in a couple of months.  It's going to be our year
too, remember."

"How could I forget?"  But Serenity still looked melancholy.  "I just
wish Hotaru could be --"

"It was her decision, dear," Endymion told her, squeezing her shoulders.
"She chose not to live forever."  His eyes grew distant as he
remembered.  "I don't think she ever regretted it."

"Usagi still misses her.  So do I."

"I know, love," he said, drawing her gently to her feet.  "I know."  His
arm about her, he escorted her slowly out.

Rei and Artemis watched them go silently.  In each of their minds was an
image of a delicate, black-haired woman: the lost member of their
company, the first to pass on, never replaced.  Hotaru, the firefly, who
chose to live a normal lifespan, to grow old and die with her husband.
The gentle Senshi of life and death, who had loved the former, yet had
not feared to embrace the latter ...

Every year on her birthday, all the Senshi who were able to gathered
together in remembrance of her.  It was a morbid custom, perhaps; but
there was an unspoken agreement among them that to let the day pass
unmarked would have been worse.

At last, in a deliberate attempt to break the silence, Artemis said, "Do
you think Setsuna will come to the celebrations?"

Rei shrugged, apparently glad of the distraction.  "Who knows?  Serenity
says she still pops in from time to time, but I haven't seen her in
decades."  She shook her head, and added, "What was that you were saying
about Ami, before?  What's got her worked up?"

"Hmm?"  Artemis tried to remember what he'd said.  "Oh.  Some glitch in
a geological survey.  Nothing important."

"Nothing important," Rei echoed.



-----------------
14 November, 3477
-----------------

Makoto reached Crystal Tokyo late at night.  It had been a long trip --
the Pacific Shuttle was nearly a two-hour flight -- and she was tired.
She'd spent the last two years in Toronto, acting as Serenity's
diplomatic envoy there and keeping a quiet eye on the bickering and
political manoeuvring that had been going on with the Lakes Republic
since the last election.  It had been very boring, for the most part,
and she was glad to be home.

She took a flyer from the shuttle pad to the Palace.  There was a full
moon that night, and the sky was clear; the city below her was an eerie
sight, pale silhouettes of buildings divided by rivulets of light.  Here
and there brilliant sparks, flyers like her own, drifted through the air.
Ahead, the spires of the Palace glittered in the moonlight, clean and
elegant.  She owned a house out in the suburbs, but she had not lived
there regularly for decades.  The Palace was home.

While she was still some distance away, her attention was caught by
something new: a tall, spindly structure, hardly more than a framework,
looking like an uneven series of slender towers.  She had left it behind
before she could make out more, but if it was a new building going up,
it was a very strange-looking one.

She was landing before she had much time to wonder about it.  A group of
Serenity's household guard came out to meet her, saluting as she climbed
out of the flyer.  She nodded wearily to them and went on inside.  She
had signalled ahead from the shuttle pad, and the service units had
prepared her quarters and turned on the lights and the heat.  The door
unsealed at her touch, and she fell into bed thankfully.

The next morning was grey and dreary.  She woke early, her body-clock
still on Canadian time, but long experience told her that trying to
sleep longer would be useless.  She crawled out of bed, still groggy.
A long, hot shower helped.  Food would be even better; her rooms had
excellent kitchen facilities, of course, but she wanted company.  She
went out looking for breakfast.

To her delight, she found Minako in the common dining room a few floors
below.  The blonde Senshi jumped up as she came in, beaming a welcome.

"Mako-chan!  When did you get back?"

"Last night.  Hi, Mina-chan.  How're things?"

Minako grinned.  "Great!  It's nice to finally have some time off ...
get a few things sorted out, catch up on the soaps ... raid Rei's manga
collection ..."

Makoto laughed.  "Bored?"

"You betcha."  Minako laughed too, then gave a shrug.  "What can you do?
It's been so long since I had a real holiday, I don't know what to do
with it.  And with a whole _year_ off ..."

"Yeah."  Makoto filled a plate, and sat down next to Minako.  "I kind of
wish they weren't making such a big fuss about the anniversary.  Okay,
it's nice to be all getting back together again, but still, I wish
Serenity wasn't doing it ..."

"You think she had a choice?"  Haruka came in, yawning.  She sat down
across the table from the other two, and said, "Hi, Makoto.  How was
Canada?"

Makoto waved a hand noncommittally.  "Politics.  Dull."  Then she
brightened.  "I did meet this guy, a couple of months ago, when --"

"Spare me."  Haruka grinned to take the sting from her words.  "I think
I know this story."

"Well, yeah."  Makoto sighed, and shrugged.  "How's Michiru?"

Haruka raised her eyebrows.  "Well enough," she said.  "She's been held
up for a while at the Miranda Institute.  She's due back in a couple of
weeks."

Makoto nodded.  It was rather rare to find the two apart; after Serenity
and Endymion, they were the system's stablest couple.  Haruka hid it
well, but Makoto could see that she wasn't happy at the separation.

"What was that you were saying about not having a choice?" she asked.

"Talk to Artemis about it sometime," Haruka suggested.  "He's acting as
coordinator.  It wasn't a matter of deciding to make a big thing of it;
it's more a case of, it's going to be a big thing whether we like it or
not, so we might as well take it gracefully."

"Personally, I could do without the reminder," Minako grouched.  "'Her
majesty's sesquimillennial celebration ...'  Is that even a word?  It's
on all the vid reports."

"Ask Ami."

"Ha!  You'd be lucky to get two words out of Ami at the moment.  She's
up to her eyeballs in this survey project of hers."

"Survey?"  Makoto raised her eyebrows.  "What's she up to now?"

Haruka laughed softly.  "Someone found a geological fault, a couple of
kilometres down, that doesn't act the way Ami thinks it should.  She's
spent the last three weeks trying to work out what it is."

"She's set up these towers down in the city, and she's drilling down and
setting off bombs to try and figure it out," added Minako.

Makoto looked at her, shaking her head fondly.  "Translation, please?"
she requested.  A certain amount of Minako's ditzy act was just that: an
act.  But you could never be sure which part.

"Actually, that's about right," said Haruka.  "She's been sending down
test bores, and setting off micro-charges to trace the seismic
whatchamacallits.  Some of the people down in the city were getting
quite worried about it, and Serenity had to meet them and tell them it
was all right."  She grinned.  "I'm not sure that Serenity really
understood what she was talking about -- but then, I'm not sure that _I_
understand what Ami's doing, either."

Makoto groaned.  "That sounds like Ami."  She cocked her head and added,
"Maybe that's what I saw last night, as I was flying in -- a group of
towers, like scaffolding frameworks ..."

"That's the one," Haruka confirmed.  "We could go down and take a look
later, if you're that interested."

Makoto shrugged.  "Not really.  What's interesting about a hole in the
ground?"



-----------------
22 November, 3477
-----------------

Rei got up, sighing.  She had been meditating before the sacred fire
for more than an hour.  Her head swam for a moment as she rose.

She stood there for a little, staring into the flames.  The air was
thick with the scent of incense and woodsmoke, and a faint, tantalising
hint of vanilla.  The only light in the room came from the fire.  The
heat on her face was fierce, but after so many years of doing this she
barely noticed it any more.  She of all people was accustomed to flame.

Sometimes, standing here like this, she felt the weight of all the years
that filled this room.  The decades and the centuries hung about her.
The few simple furnishings were antiques, many of them hundreds of years
old; but the fire itself was the oldest thing here.  This fire was the
same one that had burned in the Hikawa shrine in her youth, and for
uncounted years before she was born.  In all that time, it had never
gone out.

Oh, it had been quenched for a time during the Great Ice; but afterward,
as the world began to rebuild, she had worked up her nerve and asked
Setsuna to help her preserve it.  For a wonder, the Senshi of Time had
agreed.  The two of them picked a moment when they would not be
disturbed, stepped into the past, brought back a firepot -- and the
sacred fire burned anew.

She smiled at the memory.  She had been surprised when Setsuna agreed to
help; but the risk was minimal, and perhaps Crystal Tokyo had mellowed
even Sailor Pluto.  And when they had gone back, when she had stood
again in the Hikawa Shrine as it had been before the Ice ... that was a
moment she would treasure forever.

It had been like going home, one last time.  A return, for one brief
moment, to a time that was lost; to a life that had been simpler, and in
many ways more satisfying.  A final glimpse of the life she might have
led, the priestess she might have been.

Outside this room was a different world, a newer world.  Out there she
was Hino Rei: warrior, Senshi, companion of the Queen.  A public figure,
always busy, always in demand.  It was strange, that this new world
could make her feel so old.

But in here -- here with the darkness and the flame and the stillness
and the endless peaceful years -- here, for a time, she could be a
simple priestess again.  And she felt young.

The fire cracked, and she started.  Guiltily, she realised that she had
been standing, lost in thought, for more than twenty minutes.  She was
expected back at the Palace.  There were a million things to do ...

With a quiet sigh, she turned and left the room.  [Back to the real
world,] she thought sarcastically; though sometimes she was not sure
which of her two worlds was the more real to her.

All the same, she felt refreshed, more at peace that she had when she
had gone in.  The weight was gone from her shoulders; she was smiling as
she stepped outside.  So perhaps, in the end, the two were not
irreconcilable after all.

A thought occurred to her, and she chuckled out loud.  When she left the
Palace, when she went to the fire to pray and meditate, it was because
she was searching for peace, tranquillity ... serenity.  Yet those were
exactly the qualities that she was leaving behind, in the heart of the
one who was the centre of the Palace.  How ironic, that the rabbit
should turn out to be so much better at it than the priestess ...

How her grandfather would have laughed.

Shaking her head, still smiling, she went on.  The Palace was only a
few minutes' walk away.  On her way, she reviewed her day's schedule.
Meetings, discussions, planning committees, ceremonies ... all the
thousand thousand details that kept the world running.  It was not as
bad as it might have been -- she, Artemis and Luna, as the ones who got
stuck with it the most, fought a never-ending battle to keep the
bureaucracy to a minimum -- but there was still a lot to get through.

(Chief of Staff and head of the Civil Service was not quite how she'd
seen her future when she was young.  But it was a necessary job, not
actually that far removed from her childhood vocation as priestess, and
it kept her in Crystal Tokyo -- and how could she ever leave Serenity?
Oh, she'd been sent on other jobs, even been off Earth a few times, when
she was needed, but that was increasingly rare.  She was more valuable
where she was, serving and guarding the Queen ... and if there were
more personal reasons why she could not bear to leave, well, they were
nobody's business but hers.)

At least the load was a little lighter at the moment.  There was more to
do than ever, preparing for the celebrations coming up in June; but with
all the other Senshi on Earth, she could spread some of the work around.
It was technically a violation of their holidays, but it was in a good
cause.

And how they complained about it!  Her smile widened into a grin.  A
couple of days ago, Minako had even suggested that they make another
search for the Younger Senshi -- the new generation of Senshi that
everybody knew would eventually arrive to replace them, as the endless
cycle turned.  Minako had said that she wouldn't mind being replaced if
she could get a bit of peace and quiet in return ...

Rei's grin faded.  Everybody had laughed, then, but there had been a
faint hint of unease behind the laughter.  They had searched before,
several times, but always in vain.  In all the years since the founding
of Crystal Tokyo, only one Younger Senshi had ever been found -- and
that was Princess Usagi, the new Sailor Moon.  The present generation of
Senshi had been active for more than a thousand years, and in the
history of the Silver Millennium that was unprecedented.

Where were the Younger Senshi?  Why had they never appeared?

Rei thought -- feared -- she knew.

She kept her suspicions to herself.  What was the point of upsetting the
others?  But she was sure of her answer.  There were no Younger Senshi
because there was no longer any need for them.  Because the Queen had
made all the current Senshi immortal.

The function of the Younger Senshi was to maintain the cycle; as one
generation grew older and their powers began to fade, a new generation
was always born.  But now, all the Senshi (except for poor Hotaru) were
ageless, and the cycle was in suspension.  Saturn would not be reborn
unless there was a need for her.  Princess Usagi had become Sailor Moon
-- but only after her mother had left the position behind and become
Queen.  There were no new Senshi, and unless the situation changed there
would be none.  Rei could not decide if that was good or bad; but in
some way it disturbed her.

[Unless the situation changed.]  But how likely was that?  The human
race -- the whole solar system -- was at peace.  There had been no new
crises since the Black Moon invasion.  They had achieved a world that
was little short of perfect, and nothing seemed to threaten it at all.

Certainly, there was nothing ominous in the offing at the moment.  As
always, Rei had checked in the sacred fire.  And she could see nothing
bad ahead of them at all.



-----------------
11 December, 3477
-----------------

"There _is_ something down there," Ami said firmly.  "I'm certain of
it."

She was sitting in Serenity's private office: a spacious, comfortable
room, informally furnished, that the Queen used when she wanted to get
any real work done.  Rei and the cats, and their staff, could insulate
Serenity from a lot of the bureaucratic trivia of rulership; but even so
there were some things that had to be seen to by the Queen personally.
That being the case, Serenity preferred to be as comfortable as possible
while she did it.  (Ami had a vivid memory of coming into the office, a
few years back, to see her lying on her stomach on a bean bag,
surrounded by piles of documents, singing along with the stereo system
at the top of her voice as she scribbled notes on an agricultural
subsidies proposal.)  There was another, public office, much more formal
than this one, where the Queen received guests, but she used it as
little as possible.

"A few weeks ago, you were saying it was just an unusual rock
formation," pointed out Artemis.  "Suddenly you've changed your mind?"

"That was what I thought at first," Ami admitted.  "But all my tests
have shown that it's more than that.  There's something down there, two
kilometres underground, that is opaque to everything I can think of.  It
acts as a near-perfect reflector to seismic waves, but it seems to
absorb most other forms of energy.  That makes it very difficult to
investigate, especially when it's so far down, and there's very little I
can tell about it directly; everything has to be inferred.  But it's
quite small -- no more than ten metres in diameter.  And it seems to be
spherical."

"All right," Serenity said agreeably.  She had been lying with her head
on Endymion's lap, but now she sat up, looking over at Ami expectantly.
"What is it, then?"

"I don't know."

There was a slight pause.  Then Endymion said, "So why have you come
here today?  Just to give us a progress report?"

"No."  Ami looked oddly nervous.  "I came because ... there's only one
way left that I can think of to investigate it."

Serenity looked shocked.  "You want to teleport down there?  You can't!
It's too dangerous!"

"I know that," said Ami patiently.  "I could hardly teleport into solid
rock anyway."

"Oh, mother."  Princess Usagi had been listening, but until now she had
remained silent, sitting inconspicuously a little behind her parents.
"She wants to tunnel down, obviously."  She stood up and came forward to
join the others.

"Yes," Ami agreed, grateful for the interruption.  Usagi was far from
shy about speaking her mind, but when her parents were acting in an
official capacity she usually preferred to remain in the background.

"You want to drill down two kilometres?"  Endymion raised his eyebrows.
"That's quite an undertaking."

"Not as much as you might think," Ami replied.  "Bores have gone much
deeper than that before, even back in the twentieth century.  But still,
it would be a fairly major project, yes.  And the location would be a
problem."

"Oh?" said Luna, glancing up sharply.  "Where is this mystery of yours?"

Ami sighed.  "It's right below the city.  As a matter of fact, it's
directly under where the Tokyo Tower used to be."

"Umm."  The Queen looked wistful.  "Do you remember, Endy-chan, when we
went there on our sixth anniversary --"

Endymion coughed.  "Is that just a coincidence, do you think?" he asked
Ami.  "Or could it be ..."  He trailed off.

"I have no way of telling," said Ami.  "But it's ... odd."

"This whole thing is odd," said Artemis thoughtfully.

"I wonder how long it's been there?" mused Usagi.  "When was the Tokyo
Tower built?"

"Nineteen fifty-eight," Ami answered promptly.  "But what data I've been
able to gather suggests that the object was down there long before
that.  Probably tens of thousand of years, at least."

"You say 'object,'" Luna noted.  "Do you think it's artificial, or could
it be natural?"

"It's impossible to say for sure.  It could be a lump of highly-
compressed stellar material, perhaps one that crashed here as a meteor
long ago.  It could be a deposit of rare earths, in a rather remarkable
formation.  Or ..."  Ami shrugged.  "It could be some kind of alien
artefact.  Or any number of other things.  I'm afraid I've run out of
ways to investigate, from up here."

"In any case," put in Endymion, "what is it exactly that you want to do,
Ami?  You don't want to set up a drilling rig in the middle of the city,
I hope.  Those towers you've already got are bad enough."

Ami flushed.  "Well, that was one possibility," she confessed.  "But I
was thinking about adapting a subway bore.  Not one of the main drilling
machines, but there are smaller ones that cut auxiliary tunnels big
enough to walk in.  It would take some time to do the modifications, but
still, in a few months we should be able to --"

"But Ami-obachan," said Usagi mischievously, "you can't start a project
that's going to take several months.  You're supposed to be taking next
year off, remember?"

Ami stared at her.  Her mouth opened and closed several times,
soundlessly.

Endymion laughed.  "Don't be cruel, Small Lady.  This is the sort of
thing Ami does _in_ her time off."  Usagi threw him a dirty look at the
name -- when she'd turned thirty she'd announced that the next person to
call her 'Small Lady' or 'Chibi-Usa' would get a kick in the teeth --
and he laughed again.

"Umm --" began Ami.

"All the same," Endymion went on, "you're talking about quite a major
project.  Those subway bores cost hundreds of millions -- and you're
talking about melting out a hole two _kilometres_ deep ..."  He looked
over at Serenity; but there was a twinkle in his eye.  "What do you
think, dear?" he asked innocently.

"Don't be silly, Endy-chan," the Queen replied.  "If Ami wants to do it,
of course she can.  After all, what harm can it do?"



---------------
6 January, 3478
---------------

It was a cold, grey, rainy day.  They gathered in silence in a small
hall at the rear of the Palace.  Everybody came -- even Setsuna, who
slipped in at the last minute and sat at the back, her face rigidly
expressionless.

There was no formality or set order to the service.  It did not last
long.  One by one, they got up and spoke a few words: recounting an
incident, or sharing a private memory.  One by one, each of them walked
up to the table at the head of the room, and placed a lily on the simple
white cloth, before the photograph that stood there.

The Queen wore black; her face ran with tears.  Princess Usagi wept
openly.  Haruka and Michiru held each other tightly.  The others, their
faces grave and unhappy, stepped forward in their turn.

A stranger came last.  Higoshi Hato had been invited by Michiru; she was
one of Hotaru's few surviving descendants.  She stood at the table for a
little, staring down at the picture of a woman who had died before she
was born.  At last she touched her fingertips to her lips, and then
pressed them for a moment to the picture.  Softly she said, "Sleep well,
obaasan."  Then she turned and walked quickly out of the hall, almost
running.

The Senshi filed out after her, as silently as they had entered.  Only
Setsuna hung back for a moment, staring at the picture of one she had
loved like a daughter.  Her lips moved almost soundlessly.

"Happy birthday, firefly," she whispered.



-----------------
22 February, 3478
-----------------

Luna crouched down, watching the tangled patterns of force intently as
they pulsed and flickered.  "No," she said sharply.  "Tighten the weave
there.  Yes, there -- on the fourth vertex.  A little more -- good."

Diana relaxed with a sigh, stepping back from the energy-construct she
had been building under her mother's supervision, and looking at it with
some distaste.  The three cats were gathered in a sheltered courtyard at
the rear of the Palace.  At this time of day the courtyard was in
shadow, making it easier to see the force lines, and Luna was determined
that they should make the most of it.

"It would have worked as it was," Diana protested.

"There's no need to get sloppy," Luna told her reprovingly.  "You run
the risk of having it all unravel on you if you're not careful, and
that's ... not a prospect to take lightly."

"She speaks from experience," said Artemis, half-jestingly.

Luna gave him an irritated glare, then looked back to Diana.  "Yes, I
do," she admitted.  "That was -- oh, about thirty years before the
Silver Millennium fell.  I was careless, and a weave I was working
unravelled in mid-transition.  The retrieval was disrupted, I almost got
my brains fried, and it took most of our people on the Moon, working
together, six months to clean up the local force lines properly.  The
Queen was _quite_ upset with me."

"Yes, but --" began Diana.

"No 'buts'," Luna insisted.  "Now, dismantle that lattice and try it
again.  If you're getting _this_ sloppy, you obviously need a lot more
practise."

Diana sighed and obeyed.  As she frowned in concentration, an intricate
web of force patterns took shape in mid-air in front of her.  Slowly it
expanded, shifting and turning as it grew more complex, forming knots
and junctions at the required points to create intangible energy
pathways, and spinning off linkages into the ghost dimensions to keep
the construct anchored in space-time.

A passing human being would have seen three cats, staring intently at
nothing at all.  He or she might even have walked straight through the
weave that Diana was building, without disturbing it in the slightest.

"How's that?" inquired Diana at length.

Luna nodded slowly.  "It looks all right," she said.  "Finish the
exercise, though.  Trigger it."

Diana hesitated, obviously remembering Luna's story of what might happen
if she'd got it wrong.  Then, taking a deep breath, she leaped toward
the weave.  At the apex of her jump, she turned a perfect somersault and
touched the trigger-point.  The weave collapsed, twisting space as it
did so into a precise configuration -- and the subspace interstices
opened, and something dropped out.

"Younger Pluto's henshin stick," said Artemis.  "Interesting choice."

"I just wanted to see if there actually was one," Diana admitted.  "I
mean, I've never actually heard of there _being_ a Younger Pluto ..."

"Who has?" inquired Luna rhetorically.  "All right, you've demonstrated
that you can open a pocket if you need to -- though it took you three
times longer than it should.  You really do need to practise this.  In
an emergency, you might need to do it in a few seconds."

Diana winced.  "A few seconds?" she protested.

Snorting, Luna said, "Watch."  She sat back on her haunches, staring at
nothing -- and a new lattice took form before her, flickering and
twisting and knotting with blinding speed, growing to a bewildering
complexity almost faster than the eye could follow -- and Luna leaped,
and another henshin stick dropped to the floor beside the first.

Diana stared at it, trying not to show how impressed she was.  "Younger
Mercury," she breathed.  Then: "How did you _do_ that?"

"Practice," said Luna.

"Lots and lost of practice," Artemis added wryly.  "You always did have
much better control than me."

"Thank you," replied Luna primly.

"But --"  Diana trailed off.  "I think I still prefer Father's way," she
grumbled at last.

"You would," muttered Luna.  "For heaven's sake --"

"No, let me," interrupted Artemis.  "Diana, your mother's right.  Her
way of opening the pockets is better.  I'd do it that way myself if I
--"  He cleared his throat.  "If I could.  Here, look at this ..."

He padded over to the henshin sticks, touched them gently with one paw,
and closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  Then he began to spin in
place.  A passing human would have seen nothing but a cat chasing its
tail.  But as Artemis whirled, a spindle of force-lines wove itself in
the centre of his pattern, overlapping, merging, and condensing down to
a tiny glowing core --

There was a _wink_ of something that was not light, but which made all
three cats blink anyway, and the two henshin sticks were gone.

Artemis came to a halt, breathing heavily.  "You see?" he said after a
few seconds.  "It works, but it's all brute strength, not ... not
finesse.  It's tearing the interstices open, rather than triggering them
properly.  The continuum seals itself shut again, true, but still it's
not a good method to use regularly.  Why do you think I usually let your
mother handle this stuff?  My way may be easier, but it's certainly not
better."

"All right, all right," Diana mumbled.  Then, trying to make a joke of
it, she added, "Too bad I can't just do it the way the Senshi do, then."

Luna winced.  "That's even _more_ limited," she said.  "They can't see
the weaves any more than a normal human can.  Each of them is attuned to
a single subspace pocket; they can use it, but that's all.  They can't
_control_ it like we can."

"Yes, but --" Diana began.  Then she stopped, shaking her head.  "All
right.  I'll practise more.  Okay?"

"Don't use the Senshis' pockets," suggested Artemis.  "Some of them are
sensitive enough to feel the triggering, and there's no need to bother
them.  I'm not sure about Ami, but Setsuna probably noticed what you did
just now."

"Oops," Diana said guiltily.  "Wait a minute, does that mean I have to
use --?"  She winced.  "Not the training matrix again."

"I'm afraid so," said Luna, mock-sympathetically.

"I'd like to get my hands on whoever thought it was funny to put a ball
of wool in there," Diana muttered.

"Yes, I'm sure," Luna agreed.  There was a twinkle in her eye.  "In the
meantime, though, you should go through the exercise two or three times
a day for the next few months, and then we'll --"

"Exercise!"  Diana suddenly sat bolt-upright.  "I forgot!  What time is
it?  Oh, no, I'm going to be late ..."

"What's wrong?" asked Artemis.

"Princess Usagi's been taking physical training with some of the Palace
Guard, down in the old arena ... I was supposed to meet her there.  I
have to go, I'll see you later ..."  Diana ran off hurriedly.

Artemis shook his head humourously, watching her go.  "I wouldn't have
thought it was _that_ urgent.  Maybe she's keen on avoiding more
lessons?"  Luna did not answer, and he started to ask her what was
wrong; but something suddenly struck him.  "Hold on.  Today's Friday.
Aren't those lessons only on Mondays and Thursdays?"

Luna still did not reply.  "What is it?" he prompted her.

"Usagi stopped those lessons two months ago," Luna said quietly.  "Diana
ought to know that."

The two cats exchanged glances.



-------------
1 March, 3478
-------------

Rei stopped dead when she saw the expression on Serenity's face.  She
was just coming in to deliver a bundle of reports -- and maybe share a
cup of tea -- but from the contorted look on the Queen's face something
was dreadfully wrong.

"What --" she began.

"Shh!" Serenity hissed, holding a finger to her lips.  "Quick, come
through here!"

Rei followed her, now seriously worried.  They walked silently through
into the Queen's private quarters.  There was an odd noise coming from
somewhere.

"What is it --?" she tried again.

"Quiet!" Serenity whispered.  She pressed her ear against a closed door,
and motioned Rei to do the same.  "Listen!" she ordered.  "You've _got_
to hear this!"

Rei listened.  Her eyes opened wide.

The sound was that of falling water.  Endymion was taking a shower.  And
he was singing: a song from an old, old movie that Rei remembered well.
In spite of herself, she began to giggle.

   "Be a man!
    You must be swift as the coursing river!
    Be a man!
    With all the force of a great typhoon!
    Be a man!
    With all the strength of a raging fire,
    Mysterious as the dark side of the moon!"

When Endymion emerged, several minutes later, he was quite at a loss to
explain the two women rolling on the floor of the lounge, hysterical
with laughter.



--------------
13 March, 3478
--------------

"I have to admit, Ami," Makoto commented, "this is the ugliest thing you
ever built."

"It's not supposed to look pretty," Ami said defensively.  She looked up
at the modified subway bore, and quite unconsciously patted it on its
side.

It was an imposing sight, certainly, standing in the underground
construction bay, starkly lit by the brilliant white working lights.  A
long, tubular device, just short of two metres high, with a blunt,
faintly rounded nose that was pitted with hundreds of tiny nozzles in an
arcing, spiral pattern.  The nose was slowly turning, and Makoto
half-thought that she could see a faint, bluish haze rising from it.

Set far back from the nose, giving the whole machine a curiously
unbalanced look, were six sets of caterpillar tracks.  They were spaced
evenly around the body, so that at present, four of them stuck out into
the air.  They reinforced the bore's lopsided appearance, making it look
rather like a demented millipede with its legs in the air.

Most of the bore's body appeared to be made out of some kind of ceramic,
creamy white in colour.  Between the nose and the caterpillar tracks,
though, was a massive sleeve of some darker material, that looked as if,
like the nose, it could rotate.  A cooling jacket, Ami had said, but
Makoto had not really followed the explanation.

At the rear, the bore had a massive open exhaust port, and a pair of
sealed valves that were apparently intended for refuelling the machine.
At the top of the rear panel, she was amused to see, was a small plate
marked with the royal crest.

The bore stood with its nose aimed down a dark hole that had been cut in
one wall of the construction bay, the same diameter as the bore itself.
The hole, only a few metres deep, sloped sharply downward.  In less than
an hour, the bore's nose would be aligned with that hole as a guide, and
it would begin its long journey through the earth.

"So where's the hatch?" Makoto asked.  "Where do you climb in?"

Ami sighed.  "There isn't one," she said.  "It's all fully automatic.
You wouldn't _want_ to ride inside this.  It moves very slowly; it's
going to take a week to get down where we want it."

Makoto raised her eyebrows.  "Why so long?" she asked.  "Don't the
regular subway bores go much faster than that?"

"Yes.  But the tunnels they make are more or less level.  This one has
to go downward, and at a fairly steep angle.  Those nozzles in the nose
produce a very hot hydrogen flame.  The bore doesn't cut a tunnel; it
_melts_ one.  And if it heads down too fast, it'll be moving through a
pool of its own lava."

Makoto nodded slowly.  That explained why the caterpillar tracks were
so far back from the nose, she supposed.  "So what happens to all the
lava?" she asked.  "Does it get shot out this hole at the back?"

"No, it's cooled as the bore passes through it, forming a layer of very
dense, very hard rock around the tunnel.  That makes the tunnel a lot
more durable, naturally.  The port is for passing out exhaust gases --
superheated steam, vapourised rock, and so forth.  It's also a valuable
way of dumping heat, of course."

"Of course," echoed Makoto.

"You wouldn't want to be standing behind this when it's running.  The
exhaust temperature is thousands of degrees."

That, at least, Makoto understood.  "So is it ready to go?" she asked.
"All tested and everything?"

"Yes," said Ami patiently.  "A few of the others said they wanted to see
it in action, but as soon as they arrive I'll start it up."  She smiled
suddenly.  "Or you could press the button, if you like."

"Me?"  Makoto was taken aback.  "No, I wouldn't want to spoil your --"

"Who's pressing whose buttons?" came a voice, unmistakably Minako, from
behind them.  They turned to greet her, and Makoto had to hide a smile.
Minako was wearing a pair of battered overalls, and a bright yellow
hard hat.  As she came into the construction bay, she looked around
with a faintly disappointed expression.  "Oh ... I thought it'd be,
you know, all grease and oil and stuff in here," she said.

"I'm sure Ami could arrange something," said Makoto, grinning, before
Ami could reply.

"Nah, that's okay.  So, this is the tunnel?"  Minako peered down the
guide hole.  "Where're all the stalactites?  Just kidding," she added as
Ami opened her mouth again.

Ami took a deep breath, appeared to count to ten, and said, "Good
morning, Minako-chan.  How are you today?"

"Pretty good," Minako answered cheerfully.  "So, when are you starting
this thing up?  Should be quite a sight."

"When the others --"  Ami stopped, looking at something behind her.
"Oh.  Pretty soon now, I think."

Makoto looked around.  Rei and Serenity were just coming through the
door, followed by Haruka and Michiru, and then Usagi and Diana.  The
Queen was laughing at something Haruka had just said.

"Wow, is everyone coming?" Minako said, surprised.

"It's that, or sit around trying to work out what to get Rei for her
birthday," said Michiru dryly.

Haruka laughed.  "Who'd have thought a year off would get boring so
fast?"

"Well, it's better than dragging everyone back to Earth for each
birthday," said Rei.  She and Makoto exchanged glances.  Then they
carefully ignored each other.

"I suppose," grumbled Haruka.

Michiru dug her in the ribs.  "You didn't think it was so boring a week
ago," she teased.  Haruka scowled, and she laughed.  Michiru's fifteen
hundredth birthday party had been quite a splash -- a society event, as
all their birthdays were being this year (though Serenity's, in three
and a half months, would be an altogether different scale) -- and Haruka
had enjoyed it immensely, whatever she was pretending now.  Michiru had
even allowed herself to be persuaded to play the violin in public,
something that she did increasingly rarely.

They continued to tease each other, and Rei joined in, taking both sides
at once; but Makoto stopped paying attention.  Minako was talking to
Ami, asking a series of pointless questions about the bore.  Usagi was
still arguing with Diana, which was a little odd.  Makoto started toward
them, curious, but stopped as someone else came in.  She blinked in
surprise.  Setsuna?

She stepped over to meet her and said, "I wasn't expecting you to come."
That was no more than the truth.  Even today, when all the other Senshi
were public figures, Setsuna was a virtual recluse, shunning all
publicity.  A lot of people believed that she didn't actually exist at
all, and all indications were that she preferred it that way.

Setsuna simply shrugged.  "I was curious," she admitted.

Makoto blinked.  "Don't you know what Ami's going to find, then?"

"Contrary to what you may think," Setsuna said patiently, "I am not
intimately aware of every tiny thing that's ever happened or is going to
happen.  What would be the point?"  She shook her head.  "I have a rough
idea of what's ahead, but I only look at details when there's a good
reason to.  Knowing too much about where you're going ... spoils the
journey."

Makoto nodded slowly.  "So, I guess this thing of Ami's is nothing
earth-shattering, then."

Setsuna laughed.  "The next few years are pretty quiet."

"Oh?"  Makoto narrowed her eyes.  Setsuna was being remarkably open.
"How many years?" she asked slyly.

"Don't push your luck."

Makoto chuckled.  "Worth a try."  She wandered over to chat with
Serenity and Usagi, who were admiring the bore.  (Serenity laughed when
she saw the royal crest on the rear plate.)  They spoke for a few
minutes, until Ami held up for attention.

"If nobody else is coming, we may as well get started," she announced
quietly.  She led them through into the control room, carefully closing
a heavy, insulated door behind them and checking that it was sealed.

Several of Ami's assistants were already at work in the control room.
They glanced up as the Senshi entered; a few of them looked startled,
seeing Serenity come in, but they hid it well.  One of them quietly
showed the Senshi where to stand, then returned to his own work.

The control room featured a large window of thick, darkened glass,
overlooking the construction bay.  At one end of the room was a long,
complex-looking control console, covered with monitoring and tracking
displays.  Ami sat down and flicked a switch, and the screens glowed
with power.

"Communications are active," she announced.  "Internal diagnostics ...
power and fuel ... inertial tracking ... all systems read green.  Let me
check the alignment with the bore-hole ..."  She ran her fingers over
the keyboard.  "Twelve millimetres off, well within parameters."  She
continued on in a dialogue with her assistants for a few minutes, but
Makoto stopped paying attention.  Down in the bay, the bore stirred, and
ground forward slowly until its nose was just a few centimetres from the
guide-hole.

"All right," Ami said at last.  "Bringing it up to speed now ..."

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen.  Then, gradually, the bore's
nose began to rotate more quickly.  The faint blue haze that had clung
to it faded out of view.  Faster and faster it spun, until all details
were lost and Makoto could only see a blur of motion.  There was a
high-pitched whining sound, faint at first but becoming louder and
louder, and rising in pitch until it was almost painful.  The floor
seemed to vibrate, very faintly.  One of Ami's aides passed around
earmuffs, and they put them on gratefully.

There was a sudden click in Makoto's earmuffs, and she heard Ami's voice
say clearly, "And here we go."

Suddenly there was a brilliant white light down in the bay, coming from
the bore's nose.  It dimmed a little, flickered, then became constant.
The hydrogen flame, Makoto realised.  Was it just her imagination, or
were the edges of the guide-hole already glowing red?  She thought she
saw drops of molten rock fall to the floor.

"Makoto-chan, are you sure you don't want to do the honours?"

Makoto looked around.  Ami was grinning at her.  She shook her head
hastily.

Ami shrugged, and pressed one last key on her console.  The bore began
to move forward once more.  As the nose touched the edges of the
guide-hole, there was a veritable explosion of dust, splinters of rock
and globules of semi-molten stone.  Many of them struck the window with
a series of sharp _cracks_, causing several of the Senshi to jump back,
startled.  At the same time, the sound from within the bay rose to a
shattering roar.  Makoto could feel it in her bones now.

She had seen a rocket launch into orbit, once, back in the early twenty-
first century, a little before the Ice began.  That was the only noise
she had ever heard that was louder than this.

Slowly, the bore passed into the tunnel.  As the upper caterpillar
tracks found a purchase on rock, the whole bore shuddered, and the noise
peaked again.  A vast jet of material -- powder, white-hot droplets of
lava and a thick, dark, roiling smoke -- shot out of the rear port like
water from a geyser.  Several of the lights down in the construction bay
exploded.  In moments, the smoke blocked all view of what was happening
-- except for the brilliant glow that came from the tail of the bore,
which continued to be visible for a few minutes more before all sight
of it was finally lost.

"Well," came Ami's voice through their headsets.  "That went well."

"What, are you kidding?" said Makoto involuntarily.  The noise from the
bay was still ear-splitting, but she heard her own voice through her
headset, and realised that they must all have two-way communication.

"Not at all.  Compared to some of our test runs, that was quite smooth."

"And I thought geology was a boring subject," muttered Michiru.

"So it's off," intoned Minako, "on a Journey to the Centre of the
Earth!"

"Not quite the centre, Minako-chan --"

"Oh, well.  A miss is as good as a molehill."

They heard Ami sigh.  "Whatever you say ..."



---------
Interlude
---------

The Queen went back to her palace, and the other Senshi to their
holidays.  Time passed, as Ami's machine worked its way patiently into
the Earth.

It moved slowly, once it began to pass through solid rock: less than a
centimetre a second.  It was aimed downward at an angle of twenty
degrees, so it had nearly six kilometres to go before it reached the
anomaly.  Even so, it should have made the trip in a little under seven
days, and returned to the surface in only another two more.

Things did not work out quite that simply.  The bore broke down twice,
and had to be repaired.  Each time, this required leaving it to cool for
some time before technicians could venture down the tunnel, wearing
breathing masks and protective suits, to make repairs which themselves,
performed in such cramped conditions, were rather lengthy.

Rei's birthday was on the 17th of April.  Makoto did not go to the
party; she claimed to be ill.  Rei did not seem noticeably upset at the
news.

As the bore approached the underground anomaly, its onboard sensor
package began to return some very unusual readings.  Most of them did
not make much sense.  Ami was almost bursting with frustration.

There was no moon on the 25th of April.  The bore finally returned to
the surface shortly before midnight.  It had penetrated to a carefully-
calculated two metres short of the target.  Ami had to be physically
restrained from going down to investigate as soon as the way was clear;
but she had hardly slept for two days, and her assistants cared more
about her than they did about the threats she made as they put her to
bed.

The next day was the beginning of the end.



[Continued in part 3]