[Segment 4 of 6]
****************
"You've been pretty distracted lately," said Eitoku. "Is something
wrong?"
Nanako gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Distracted?" she said.
"What do you mean, 'Toku-chan?"
It was Saturday afternoon, and school had just let out for the weekend.
Most other students had made a bee-line for the gates, but the two of
them had met out at the back of the main building, enjoying a rare
chance for a little privacy. They would be meeting again that evening,
true, but that was an eternity away.
Eitoku snorted. "As if you don't know already. All that Senshi-watch
stuff, for a start. And sneaking around with that kid, Kawatake. And
spying on McCrea." He rolled his eyes at the idea. "And you've been
going round the schools looking for some Claver girl named 'Dhiti.'
"What!" She stiffened, looking at him in shock. "How did you hear
about that?"
"Ah-ha! It is true, then."
"Huh? You mean you --"
"So what's it all about? Paying off a bet? Or have you decided to set
up shop as an information broker, or something?"
"Don't be silly." Working as a broker would be far too much work.
Nanako only investigated the things she was personally interested in.
Mind you, that did cover a lot. "Seriously, where did you hear about
Dhiti? That was supposed to be --"
"Never mind that," Eitoku said impatiently. "I suppose she owes you
money, or something. But ... spying on _McCrea_? Why, for heaven's
sake? Hasn't there been enough spying around here already?"
He meant Beth and Hideo, she knew. Nanako thought about saying that if
he went ahead and joined 'D' Division, he'd be seeing a lot more spying
yet; but she suppressed the impulse. It was petty, and a little too
sharp to fit the not-too-bright persona she preferred to project.
Eitoku knew about her facade -- they'd been dating for months now -- but
she did try not to break character, even in front of him. He'd admitted
that he thought it was cute.
Besides, she'd already seen that he was a little touchy about the whole
'D' Division thing.
"I mean, how would you feel if McCrea or I started spying on _you_?" he
went on.
She blinked. "Pretty flattered," she said. "Why?"
"Gahh!" He gave her a disgusted look.
"Look," she said reasonably, "what's the problem, anyway? If you must
know, Kawatake was the one spying on Beth-chan. I think it's kind of
cute, myself." She chose her words carefully. Eitoku knew her well
enough that he might be able to tell if she lied. "I don't _need_ to
spy on her. She's my friend, remember? I see her every day."
He harrumphed. "All right, all right. What you see in her -- no, never
mind. But," he asked plaintively, "why the Senshi, Nana-chan? I never
figured you for an otaku."
Nanako decided to be honest. "How can I not be interested?" she asked
him. "The Senshi are back, and if two thousand years ago is anything to
judge by, they're going to affect ... well, everything! You want to be
a politician -- why aren't _you_ interested? They're going to change
the world under your feet!"
"If they're allowed to," he said.
She stared at him for a long time. "What?"
"What if people don't _want_ the world to be changed?"
Sick shock, in her gut. "What ... what are you talking about?" she
whispered. "You don't mean --"
"I mean that I like the world the way it is now." Eitoku spread his
arms wide. "What's so wrong with it? Why does it need changing?" He
shook his head. "I don't see why we need a mystic moon queen to poke
her nose in. Shouldn't we be allowed to choose our own way?"
"Crystal Tokyo was a paradise on Earth!" Nanako flared back. "And you
just want to turn your back on it? What, are you crazy? 'What's wrong
with the world' -- what's _right_ about it? We had perfection once, and
we can have it again!"
"Oh, stop," he said disgustedly. "You're starting to sound like one of
the Loonies."
She froze, eyes wide. Then she slapped his face. "That," she hissed,
"is a _horrible_ thing to say."
They stood, almost nose-to-nose, for a moment that seemed to last
forever. She could see the mark on his cheek, just beginning to redden.
His eyes were wide open, the whites showing all around. His expression
was shocked, just beginning to darken with anger. She herself was
wire-taut, poised in the precipice between rage and fear. In another
moment, one of them would say something unforgivable.
Then Nanako started to giggle.
The tension broke in an instant. She heard Eitoku's sigh of relief, and
for some reason it made her laugh even harder. "One of the Loonies,"
she managed to say. "H-horrible." And then the absurdity of the idea,
combined with the strain of a moment ago, was too much. She dissolved
in mirth again, and all the stress and anger came washing out in a great
cleansing tide. She looked up at him, saw him staring back with a look
of utter incomprehension, and had to turn away because she was laughing
so hard it hurt.
At last she managed to sober once more. "You _are_ horrible sometimes,"
she told him, not looking around. "You know that?"
"I know," he answered amiably. "It's one of my better points." She
chuckled, and heard him chuckle in reply. Then he gave a faint cough.
"Um," he said. "So, are we still on for tonight?"
"What!" She whirled on him, her eyes flashing. "What are you talking
about? If you think you're getting out of a date that easily --"
Too late, she saw the glint in his eye, and the faint smile on his lips,
and realised that she had been had. "You -- you ..." she spluttered.
His grin widened.
She could either hit him again or laugh again, she realised. After
careful consideration, she did both.
Once the mutual giggling was over and they had both calmed down a
little, she sighed and wiped her eyes and said, "You idiot!" He nodded
in self-satisfied acknowledgement, and she added, smirking, "You'd just
better have something special in mind for tonight to make up for that,
'Toku-chan."
He shrugged. "I might have something planned," he admitted.
That was the nice thing about Eitoku. He wasn't, admittedly, a lot to
look at, and he didn't have a romantic bone in his body. Of course,
Nanako wasn't exactly a hearts-and-flowers kind of girl either. But he
did know her, maybe better than anyone; he knew what she liked, and how
to get her to enjoy herself -- for real, not just as a pose. She could
relax with him, and that meant a lot.
"Well, then," she said happily. Who cared about Loonies? "Now I just
need an excuse."
He raised his eyebrows, left behind as usual. Poor dear. "For what?"
he asked.
"For Beth-chan," she explained patiently. "She was hinting that she
wanted to do something tonight. Don't worry about it. Now, what would
she believe ...?"
As she fell to plotting, Eitoku gave her a long, thoughtful look. "Do
you ever feel guilty?" he asked quietly.
She paused, distracted. "About what?"
"About McCrea," he said. "About not telling her about ... you and me.
She's supposed to be your friend, Nana-chan."
Suddenly Nanako could not look him in the eye. Her plans collapsed in
ashes around her ears. "Um," she said.
"I mean, you've been leading her on for -- what, weeks? More than a
month. I can't say I exactly like her, but ... she deserves a little
better than that, surely."
"I know." Nanako studied her shoes. "It ... it wasn't supposed to be
this way."
"Oh?"
"Well, you saw how she was!" she protested. "Following you around,
hiding in the bushes and spying on you ... moaning and sighing over you
in private like ... like something out of a bad romance novel! I
thought if I pulled her in and made her actually spend some time with
us, up close, she'd figure out what's what in the end."
"Moaning and sighing?" he asked, intrigued.
"Never mind that! Anyway, you saw what happened. She's off in a world
of her own, she just ignores anything that doesn't match the way she
thinks things are."
"All the more reason to tell her," he said unsympathetically.
"Yes, but _how_? You said it yourself: I've been leading her on for
weeks. _We've_ been leading her on. I can't just go up to her and tell
her, oh, by the way, I've been dating your dream man for months now.
It'd be ... I don't know. A betrayal." She looked up at him, troubled.
"It's gone too far, and I don't know how to stop it now ..."
"You don't want to hurt her."
"No. I like her." At his raised eyebrow, she added, "Ecchi! Not like
that! She's ... my best friend, maybe." A sudden smile quirked her
lips. "Naivete and self-delusion on that scale can be oddly appealing."
He grinned. "Now I think it's my turn to say 'ecchi.'"
"Idiot." She grinned back at him; but then the moment's humour faded.
"I really don't know what to do, though. All I can think of is to keep
on the way we are, and be careful she doesn't find out."
"Not much of a solution," Eitoku told her sombrely.
"No." Impulsively, she hugged him, and buried her face in his shoulder.
"I'll work out something," she murmured. "Or, who knows? Maybe she'll
find someone else ... or just forget about you. Beth-chan has a lot of
other things on her mind at the moment." She gave a secret smile as she
spoke.
"So," Eitoku said meaningfully, "do I."
Nanako looked up, and found herself staring straight into his eyes, only
a few centimetres away. She realised that she was still holding him,
and that his own arms were around her as well. Involuntarily, she moved
her face closer to his.
There was a startled gasp from right behind her.
Nanako let go of Eitoku and stepped away from him hurriedly. It was
much too late, though. As she turned around, she knew, with a doomed
prescience, exactly who she would see standing there.
--**--
After classes let out at noon, Beth made her way around to the school
gymnasium. The Hiking Club was meeting, and she'd been missing rather a
lot of club meetings lately. Nobody had said anything to her yet, and
she wanted to keep it that way.
A group of boys were shooting hoops as she walked inside, and she found
herself checking their faces automatically. But, of course, the one she
was looking for wasn't there; he wasn't the sporting type. Flushing,
she hurried past them.
The club held its meetings in a room at the back. She was a little
late; as she let herself in, the president was already speaking. He
glared at her, and she bobbed her head in mute apology.
He was proposing a club trip to the Minami-Boso reserve, on the far side
of Tokyo Bay. Beth listened to the presentation carefully. She wanted
to go, but it would be a rather expensive trip and she was not sure that
she'd be able to talk her parents into funding it. Besides, it would
mean being away from Third Tokyo for a couple of days, and if she were
needed as a Senshi ...
She emerged from the meeting feeling rather grumpy and unsatisfied. She
had never realised before just how disruptive being a Senshi could be on
her personal life. Or perhaps, she added honestly, it was that this was
the first time her new role might stop her from doing she really wanted
to do.
Perhaps, she thought as she stepped outside again, she should talk it
over with obaasan. She and Miyo had gotten off to a poor start, with
the other girl's veteran-and-rookie attitude, but since then they'd been
friendly enough; and Miyo ought to know, if anyone did, how to handle
this sort of thing. Surely the Senshi must be allowed _some_ kind of
outside life!
They were supposed to be having a combined training session tomorrow;
Miyo had called her about it the night before. Apparently Itsuko had
come up with a good location somewhere or other. She decided to ask
them about time off then.
As she walked on, lost in thought, she became aware of a pair of voices
coming from up ahead, just around the next corner. To her surprise, she
heard one of them speak her name. Then she realised that they sounded
familiar; and in another moment she recognised Nanako's voice.
[She must have waited for me,] she thought happily. That was nice of
her. Beth had hoped to catch her and ask if she wanted to get together
that evening. [But who's that with her?] she wondered. She put on a
burst of speed and trotted around the corner, opening her mouth to call
a greeting to her friend --
Then she saw who Nanako was with.
Then she saw what they were doing.
And then, at the last, she could do nothing but stand and stare, as
embarrassment flooded her cheeks with blood, and shame and betrayal
ground splinters in her heart.
--**--
For a long time Nanako could think of nothing to say. She looked
helplessly at Beth, and saw the shocked understanding in the other
girl's eyes. They were alone; there was nothing in the world but the
two of them, caught in a timeless instant. Even Eitoku, standing behind
her, had almost ceased to exist.
The silence stretched out until it became unbearable. At last she could
stand it no more. "Beth-chan ..." she began; but then she quite simply
ran out of anything more to say.
Perhaps even that had been too much. As she spoke, she saw something
crystallise in her friend's face.
"How long?" Beth asked. Her voice was apparently calm, but there was a
faint quaver in it. Her whole body was trembling.
"I --" Again, words failed Nanako. She could not meet the other girl's
eyes.
"How long?" Beth repeated. "How long have you been ... together?"
Still Nanako did not know how to answer. At last Eitoku saved her.
"Several months now," he said quietly. "Since before you started --"
He hesitated, then shrugged. "Hanging around."
Her eyes flicked to him, then away again. "How ..." She was trembling
harder now. Her fists clenched and unclenched spasmodically. "How you
must have laughed at me."
Nanako caught her breath in a little gasp. "No!" she burst out.
"Beth-chan, you --"
"Don't you call me that!" Beth screamed at her. "Don't you dare lie to
me like that again!"
Her unnatural calm broken at last, they could see the tears that stained
her cheeks. Eitoku took a single step toward her, holding out one hand.
Beth flinched away from him. She yelled something completely
incomprehensible, something between a shout and a sob.
Then she turned and fled.
Nanako stood, frozen, for an instant, then started to go after her. A
hand on her arm held her back. "Don't," Eitoku told her. "She won't
want to listen to you right now."
"But -- but I have to --"
He shook his head. "It may be better this way," he suggested. "At
least it's all out in the open at last ..."
"Don't give me that!" she flared, rounding on him furiously. "You're
just as guilty as I am!"
Something sparked in his eyes, but he kept his temper. "I suppose I
am," he said. "But Nana-chan, even if you caught her, what would you
say to her?"
"I -- I don't know," Nanako said miserably. "I don't know anything any
more." She looked in the direction Beth had run, but the girl was out
of sight. She took hold of the hand that he still rested on her arm and
clutched it fiercely. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she
whispered. "Beth-chan ... you can't just leave. I can't lose you like
this. I need you ..."
Eitoku's eyes widened, but he showed no other reaction. "Give her
time," he said. "Give her time."
She nodded. "Maybe," she said with little conviction. She pulled her
arm free and walked away, toward the school gate. Eitoku stood staring
after her for some time, but she did not look back.
She wandered aimlessly for a while, too wrapped up in bitter private
thoughts to pay much attention to where she was going. The streets were
filled with people, and most of them seemed happy and cheerful. An hour
ago, she'd been just like them. Why did it all have to go so wrong?
When she looked up again, she saw that she was standing outside Beth's
house. There was, perhaps, something inevitable about that. She stared
at the door for some time, then went up to it and knocked.
Beth's mother answered, and told her that the girl had arrived home a
few minutes before, picked up her cat, and hurried out again. She had
hardly seen Beth before she was gone.
"Is she in some kind of trouble?" asked McCrea Helen, concerned.
"I hope not," Nanako said. "We had a fight, and ... I don't know. I
just need to find her. When ... when she comes back, could you ask her
to call me? Please?"
It would do no good, she knew as the woman nodded. Beth would not call.
Maybe not ever.
[Damn it! How am I supposed to fix _this_?]
--**--
Beth sat in the warehouse yard, in the centre of a pile of rusting old
machinery. The whole area was still cordoned off after Wednesday
evening's escapade, but she had little trouble slipping past the
barriers unseen. She found a spot that was concealed from passers-by
and sat there and stared at nothing at all.
She held Bendis on her lap and stroked the cat gently. Her face was
perfectly composed and expressionless. Neither of them spoke.
****************
Keiko had helped her reach a decision, all unknowing, but Suzue found
herself hesitating all the same. She would have liked to talk it over
with somebody; but then, that was the point, wasn't it?
Finally, on Saturday afternoon, her mother ordered her to stop moping
around the house and go and do something. That was too much like what
Keiko had said to be ignored. She told herself that waiting any longer
would only make it worse, steeled herself, and set out.
She and her family usually attended services at the Queen Heart Chapel,
ten minutes' walk from her house. She could not go there today, though;
she would be recognised immediately. Instead she caught a bus into
town, and made her way to the Mother House of the Church.
Outwardly, the Temple of the Congregation of the Holy Lady was a simple
building, three stories high, and painted an unassuming white. There
were no signs or logos of any kind. The Church of Serenity had found
that they only invited defacement.
Inside, the hall was warm and comforting. It was dimly lit, so that a
peaceful hush seemed to fill it; but at the far end there was a raised
dais that was bathed in light. On it stood a great statue of a woman in
long, flowing robes. Her eyes were raised heavenward, her arms
outstretched as if to embrace the world; and there was a serene,
welcoming smile on her lips. She was carved from white marble, and
there was a loving artistry in the work, and in the subtle way it was
lit, that gave her a startling life. The crescent moon on her forehead,
inlaid with pure gold, shone brilliantly.
Suzue had only been here a few times before, and the statue had its
usual impact on her. She stopped before it and knelt reverently at the
Blessed Lady's feet. There was an ornate bowl of clear oil on the altar
at the base of the statue. She dipped her fingers in this and traced
the symbol of the crescent on her own forehead, then closed her eyes in
silent prayer.
When she rose to her feet once more, some time later, she felt calmer
and more resolved than when she had come in. She looked around the hall
for a way to the temple offices. There was a plain, unobtrusive door in
one corner. She tried the handle tentatively, found it unlocked, and
ventured through.
There were men's and women's lavatories nearby. She entered the latter
and stared at herself thoughtfully in the mirror for a minute. Then she
pulled out a comb.
When she was finished, she took a pair of cheap eyeglasses from her
pocket and put them on. The lenses were plain glass; with them on, and
with her hair combed out and falling around her face, instead of being
drawn back as usual, she looked startlingly different. Anyone who knew
her well enough might still recognise her, but she was fairly sure that
a stranger would not know her if he saw her again. Satisfied, she
walked out of the ladies' again.
There was a minor labyrinth of ancillary rooms at the rear of the
temple, but nobody seemed to be about. At last she tried upstairs, and
almost immediately bumped into a middle-aged man. He was heavy-set but
not fat, with a short, greying beard, and he gave her a sharp, canny
look as he helped her to her feet once more.
"Can I help you, young lady?" he asked. "You're not one of our regular
assembly, I think."
"No, I -- I don't come here very often," she said, flustered. "Please,
I -- if I may, I'd like to speak to one of the Intercessors."
He raised an eyebrow, then glanced quickly at his watch. "You can talk
to me, if you like; I have a few minutes to spare," he said. "I'm Bunya
Kenjiro. My office is just down here ..."
She followed him obediently, trying to hold onto her little remaining
nerve. She felt strongly tempted to run for it.
The Intercessor's office was small and homely, its walls mostly lined
with bookshelves. Bunya sat down behind an untidy desk, waved her to a
chair opposite, gave her an encouraging smile, and said, "What can I do
for you?"
Suzue took a deep breath and said, "It's about the Senshi."
He grimaced. "Isn't it always," he said dryly. "I think half the
Faithful in Japan are worried about the Senshi. What's your particular
problem? Afraid that the world is about to end? Not sure you're ready
to meet the Lady?"
"No. Nothing like that. It's --" She broke off, biting her lip. It
wasn't too late to back out of this. There was still time. But she had
to try ...
"I know who they are," she said in a low voice.
The Intercessor stared for a moment. Then he gave her a very
old-fashioned look. "Do you, now," he said.
Suzue did not notice the look. She was too busy studying her hands.
"Yes. Mercury, Venus, Mars and Jupiter. Um, and Uranus. I ... I've
met them." The words were coming more easily now that she was
committed. "And the moon cats. Elder, I've met Artemis! He lived in
the Holy Moon Kingdom in his own flesh, and I spoke to him! Me! And I
even met ..."
"Yes?" Bunya's voice was silky-smooth.
She continued, unheeding. Now that she had begun, it was so easy to go
on. There were so many things that she had never been able to tell her
parents or her friends; so many things that she had longed to share with
someone, anyone, if only there were someone she could trust ... But
here, now, speaking anonymously to an priest of her own faith, she could
let it all come pouring out. And oh, it was such a relief! She had
never realised how painful it had been, to have nobody to talk to;
nobody to share her wonder, her doubts and her fears with. Here, now,
in this place, she could feel free.
"I met Hino Rei, Elder," she said softly. "One of the Blessed Lady's
own Senshi! She ... she's still alive. Still young. She spoke to u--
to me about the Perfect Days in Crystal Tokyo, and ... the F-fall ...
how the Great Enemy struck, and they fought for the Blessed Lady, and
then She arose and redeemed the world ..."
Bunya let out a long-suffering sigh. "Hino Rei died during the Fall,
young lady," he told her gravely. "All of the Senshi did. Even the
unbelievers know that much."
"No! She talked about that. She said she -- she was knocked
unconscious in the last battle, and she was badly hurt, and everyone
thought she was dead, but she survived! She's been alive all along,
waiting for the Senshi to come back!"
"Oh?" He gave her a slightly pitying look. "Then why has she never
come forward, young -- What is your name, by the way? Forgive me; I
should have asked before."
Involuntarily, Suzue froze for an instant. But she had been expecting
this question. "I ... would rather not say," she told him firmly.
He only shrugged. "Very well. Suppose that Saint Hino is alive, then.
Where is she? Why has she kept herself secret? Why has she not come
forward to join these new Senshi who fight in the Blessed Lady's name?"
"Because --" Suzue broke off. There were some things she did not want
to tell even a priest. That Hino Rei was now powerless was one of them.
"Why has she not approached the Church?" Bunya went on. "Why does she
not proclaim the truth of the Blessed Lady's holiness for all to hear?
Why does she not denounce the wickedness of the Serenity Council, who
take the Blessed Lady's name yet give nothing but persecution to the
faithful?"
"Because she isn't one of the faithful," said Suzue in a small voice.
The Intercessor was silent. "I beg your pardon?" he said at last in a
forbidding voice.
"She -- she isn't. She said that it ... it was nonsense. She said the
Blessed Lady was just an, an ordinary human. I don't -- I don't think
any of the other Senshi are believers," she added miserably.
Bunya simply gazed at her for a long moment. Then he shook his head
slowly. "Now you've disappointed me," he said.
That was a long way from what Suzue had expected. "Excuse me?" she
asked.
"At first I thought it was quite a clever story. Untrue, of course, but
simple enough, and hard to poke holes in. But now you're simply getting
foolish. Lady Hino was one of the Holy Serenity's closest disciples.
She witnessed the Blessed Lady's power many times; she herself was
raised from the dead twice. The idea that she might call the Lady 'an
ordinary human' isn't just blasphemy ... it's _ridiculous_.
"The rest of your story is just as bad. You know all the Senshi, and
naturally they're happy to pour out their hearts to you. How very
convenient. Oh, and Artemis is there, too, to deliver sage wisdom!
I'm surprised you didn't tell me he jumped through hoops for you.
"And of course, you 'would rather not say' who you are. Tell me --" He
half-rose from his seat, looming over her, and she shrank back
involuntarily from the growing anger in his face. "You aren't actually
one of the faithful at all, are you?" he demanded. "I suppose this is
some kind of clever prank? 'Let's make fools of the Loonies again!'
Very humorous, yes."
"No ... I --" she began.
He sank back into his chair. "It doesn't matter," he said. There was a
weary contempt in his voice. "Just leave, please. These are trying
enough times for the Church without having to suffer this kind of utter
inanity. If you actually care about the Lady at all, I'd suggest you
pray to Her for a little common sense and respect. Otherwise --" He
looked away from her, his face set in a heavy scowl. "Don't waste my
time."
"No," she whispered. "You don't understand."
Bunya did not look back. "Go."
She dithered for a moment longer; but at last she stood up and fled his
office. He did not try to follow her. She ran downstairs and out
through the hall. The statue on its dais still looked upward, its hands
reached out to embrace the world, but now it seemed to her that the
smile on its impossibly perfect features was a mocking one. She gave it
one last wounded look and ran on.
At last, several blocks from the temple, she came to a halt, gasping for
breath. She pulled the glasses off and threw them away, not caring
where they landed, and pulled the hair back from her eyes. She blinked
around at the street, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to
her. And why should they? She was a foolish time-wasting prankster,
spouting utter inanities.
How dare he!
To her distant surprise, she felt only rage. How dare he! He was
supposed to be one of the Blessed Lady Serenity's Intercessors; a
priest, a holy man, a wise and learned man who could examine the
evidence in a matter and interpret the will of the Lady. But at the
slightest hint that he might be wrong, he erupted in anger; he would not
even consider the possibility that he might be mistaken. How _dare_ he!
A memory came back to her: of Pappadopoulos Itsuko, scowling at her with
exactly the same kind of look of scorn on her face. [Holy men are just
as capable as being blind, or ignoring what's right under their noses,
as anyone else,] she had said. Apparently she was right after all.
Then Suzue froze. [As capable of being blind ... as anybody else.]
Itsuko had said it herself. _Anybody_ else.
If Bunya was wrong ... wasn't it possible that Itsuko was wrong too?
She walked down the street for a little, turning the idea over in her
mind. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Hino
Rei had been one of the Blessed Lady's closest friends. Wasn't it
likely -- even inevitable -- that she would be reluctant to accept her
friend's divinity?
With new resolve, she looked around. There was a comm booth a couple of
blocks away. She hurried over to it, inserted her credit chit, and
tapped in a number that she read off a piece of paper from her pocket.
"Hello?" said a voice in her ear, a few moments later.
"Pappadopoulos-san?" she said. "This is Itagaki Suzue."
There was a slight pause. Then Itsuko said, "Wait a moment." Suzue
heard a faint click. "There," Itsuko went on. "Now we can talk. What
is it?"
Suzue took a deep breath. "Do you remember what we were discussing on
Sunday night, after the meeting?" she asked.
There was a sudden wariness in Itsuko's voice. "Yes?"
"Well," said Suzue, "I've decided that you were wrong. And I'm going to
make you see the error of your ways."
And the explosion of confusion and outrage at the other end of the comm
link was simply _wonderful_.
****************
Mitsukai Senritsu finished transmitting the last batch of data over to
the Han Domain, and added a quick note to Lieutenant Murasaki. She
looked at the next piece of work on her list -- correlating the last of
the data captured during the Hoseki raid -- and then closed the folder
instead and sat back with a sigh.
It was early morning, a little after dawn, and the air inside the 'S'
Division van was stuffy and overheated. She had just worked another
all-night marathon, her third in a week. Her eyes were dry and she had
a headache. She was, she thought, beginning to get a little tired of
the sight of her computer screen.
Her brow wrinkled. With a sigh and a cracking of stiffened joints, she
stood up and went to the rear of the van. A quick check showed that
nobody was around. She opened the doors, stepped out, and stood
blinking in the half-light.
The air outside was fresh and moist and at this hour, still cool. There
was almost no traffic on the roads yet. Overhead, the sky was a clear
paling blue. It was going to be a hot day. She looked around and felt
her face relaxing into a rare smile.
She leaned back against the side of the van and yawned. Absently, she
tried to remember how long it had been since she had last slept. If
Hiiro were here, she knew, he would order her to get out and not come
back for a couple of days. Actually, that wasn't a bad idea.
On the other hand, there was, as always, a mountain of work waiting to
be done. Perhaps if she just caught a quick nap ... she had a bedroll
hidden in one of the equipment lockers. It wouldn't be the first time
she'd slept in the van. Though if any of the others caught her doing
it, they'd tease her; and she hated that more than almost anything.
For a brief instant the idea of going home to sleep occurred to her.
Then she dismissed it scornfully. Some things didn't bear thinking
about.
She was about to climb back into the van when she heard footsteps coming
toward her. She snapped her head around, instantly alert, and then
relaxed when she saw who it was. Kitada Masao. What was he doing here
at this hour?
"Hi, Lieutenant," he said cheerfully as he came up to the van at an easy
jog. "You got the early shift again, huh?"
Mitsukai looked at him for a moment longer, then nodded shortly, still
wondering why he was here. Kitada hadn't been to the van in a couple of
weeks. It surprised her that Captain Hiiro hadn't sent him back to his
real job yet; he was only an Irregular, after all.
Actually, it had been a while since she'd seen much of any of the team,
not just Kitada. The cat search had never been formally cancelled by
headquarters, but it had more or less fallen apart just the same. It
had been an absurd assignment in the first place, and after so many
weeks without results nobody believed it would succeed.
The whole team had found other things to do instead -- unofficially, of
course. Captain Hiiro had led the recent Sankaku raids, and was now
assisting a group that monitored Sankaku operations throughout Japan.
(The raids had been prompted by his team's work at the Olympus, so at
least said work hadn't all been a complete waste of time.) Kuroi was
spending most of his time putting Kitada through a rather intense form
of basic training. Mitsukai herself had simply retreated to her
computers; there was always plenty to do for a good analyst. Captain
Aoiro had been the last to give up; but even he had almost abandoned his
surveillance within the building.
Kitada did not seem put out by her long silence. "Captain Kuroi told me
to come in and see if you've got anything he could use for an EE
exercise," he went on. "Sometimes I think he's trying to see how many
different operating protocols he can hit me with before I crack." He
gave a wry shrug, then grinned. "At least it's a bit more challenging
than accountancy."
His grin widened. "If Sachiko could see me now!"
Mitsukai ignored the last comment, and thought for a moment. Electronic
Espionage operating protocols? That covered a lot of territory; EE work
was often as much art as science.
Kuroi wouldn't want anything advanced, though. Urged by a sudden
mischievous spirit, she suggested, "There's the security cameras.
Nobody's checked them in a while."
Kitada gave her a mock-horrified look. "Not the cameras," he begged.
"Please. Anything but that."
Mitsukai smirked back at him. There was a battery of twenty-six hidden
cameras monitoring the Olympus building. They had set them up after
Artemis had been seen in the area; but it had been a long time since
anybody had bothered to look at the recordings. It was a stupendously
boring job.
She let the grin fade and became thoughtful. What would be a good EE
job for a beginner? "How about the data from the Hoseki raid last
week?" she said. She hadn't finished matching it against known Sankaku
operations yet. If he finished that, it would save her the time; and
even better, nobody would care if he screwed it up.
Kitada's eyebrows rose. "Sure, why not?" he said. "After all, I was
sort of part-responsible for it happening in the first place."
She shrugged, and climbed into the van. Kitada followed and stood
behind her as she pulled up the data on her computer. "I don't quite
see what they expected to get out of the raid, anyway," he said idly.
"I thought we'd already ruled out the link between Pappadopoulos-san
and the Sankaku."
Mitsukai glanced over her shoulder at him, then returned her attention
to the monitor. "They didn't _expect_ anything," she said shortly.
"We'll be able to confirm that the Sankaku didn't have any connection
with Pappadopoulos-san, but nobody _expects_ any more than that." Her
fingers rattled over the keys. "The raid was a demonstration, that's
all. We were ... pruning the Sankaku back a little."
He blinked at her. "I think that's the most I've ever heard you say at
once."
She ignored this, too, and said impatiently, "Look." She typed in a
query to bring up the records on the Olympus building. The screen lit
up with the data a moment later. "There. Exactly what we already
knew."
Kitada nodded. "The security contract, right," he said. "We found that
when we went back through the paper records --" He broke off as she
stiffened abruptly. "What? What's wrong?"
She stared at the screen, a tiny frown on her face. Then she suddenly
seemed to notice him once more. "What? Oh. Sorry. It's nothing," she
said hastily. Her eyes flicked to the contract, then away again. "I
just ... thought of something. It's not important."
Her hands moved quickly at the keyboard; she dumped the information to
a MS-wand, and handed it to him. "Here," she said. "The records need
to be matched against known Sankaku movements and agents, and then
searched for patterns of material, money or data flows. Captain Kuroi
will know how."
His face fell. "That doesn't sound much more interesting than the
cameras," he muttered under his breath. She simply glared at him in
response. He was perfectly correct, but she did not have to admit it.
At last, thankfully, he took the wand and left.
She breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. Kitada
was a talented beginner, but he hadn't seen the significance of the
contract; and that was good, because it gave her time to think about
what it meant.
Nearly a month before, she and Kitada had searched the archives at 'S'
Division to investigate a possible link between Pappadopoulos Itsuko and
the Sankaku Clans. They had found a deed of sale and a security
contract, both between Pappadopoulos and Hoseki.
But Hoseki's own records only showed the security contract. There was
no sign of the sale.
She thought it over, then ran some checks over the rest of the Hoseki
records. They seemed complete, apart from this one item. If the
Olympus sale was missing ... could Hoseki have some reason to conceal
it? She let out a faint hiss. If so, it might suggest that there
actually _was_ a link between Pappadopoulos and the Sankaku!
Strange, how she no longer felt sleepy at all.
She left the van, locking it and activating the security system behind
her. Then she walked three blocks east and caught a bus into the city
centre. Some of the other passengers eyed her rumpled clothing, sniffed
the air, and made faces and edged away from her. Mitsukai did not even
notice. Should she tell Captain Hiiro about this? Not yet. It might
still be a mistake. Maybe.
Twenty minutes later she pulled out her pale blue ID tag, clipped it to
her breast pocket, and marched into 'S' Division headquarters.
The records section was three levels underground. She had to show her
ID twice to get in. A number of people gave her dirty looks as she
entered; she'd left quite a mess behind the last time she'd been here.
She ignored them and went into the archives. She remembered what box
she was looking for and went straight to it.
A few moments' search brought her a copy of a property-transfer notice.
Pappadopoulos Itsuko had acquired the Olympus building in 4179.
Mitsukai nodded to herself, took a note of the record number, and
returned to the records section. She found an unused computer terminal
and tapped in an enquiry.
The monitor lit up with a copy of a deed of sale: the same one she and
Kitada had found before. She nodded to herself. That much was all in
order. She started to clear the display -- and then hesitated. Then
she went back to the archives and found the property-transfer notice
again. This time she took it out with her and compared it to the
document on the monitor.
The details didn't match.
The names, dates and filing numbers were the same; but that was about
all. Otherwise, the two documents could have been referring to two
different properties altogether. In fact --
She entered a new enquiry into the computer. This one took several
minutes to complete; but at last a new record flashed up on the screen.
Mitsukai studied it carefully. It was almost identical to the other
deed of sale; even the signatures were the same. But this deed was for
the sale of a property in Hokkaido.
Somebody had broken into the 'S' Division computers. They had taken a
copy of the Hokkaido document, altered a few details to refer to the
Olympus building, and loaded it into the records.
Well. This _was_ getting interesting. Someone was anxious to hide
something about the Olympus. Who could have the resources to pull this
off? The Sankaku?
After a few minutes' thought, she cleared the computer and asked it to
link to the 'I' Division records system. This took some time -- she had
to go through several levels of authentication and authorisation -- but
at last the system granted her access. She entered the filing code from
the paper property-transfer notice. That was the most likely to be
accurate.
The computer displayed a new document, and she blinked in surprise.
Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn't it.
It took her several more hours, but at last she was able to confirm that
the information from 'I' Division seemed to be accurate. Pappadopoulos
Itsuko hadn't bought the Olympus building in 4179 at all. She'd
inherited it. The previous owner, a woman in her mid-forties, had died
and left it to Pappadopoulos, a distant relative.
The legacy was all perfectly legal and quite unremarkable. So why was
somebody trying to conceal it?
What _else_ were they trying to hide?
****************
The day turned out blisteringly hot. The sky was a clear, dazzling
blue; there was hardly a breath of wind. Late that morning, five
teenage girls and a tabby cat met in a small park near the outskirts of
Third Tokyo.
Iku and Dhiti arrived separately by bus, to find Miyo already there
waiting for them. A few minutes later Suzue's mother dropped her off,
followed shortly after by Beth and Bendis in Beth's father's car. The
six stood for a few moments, looking about.
"We're supposed to train here?" asked Dhiti at last. "Hate to break it
to you, Hayashi, but there are people around. They might kind of notice
something."
"Oh, I don't know," said Bendis thoughtfully. "It depends on what sort
of training she's got in mind. I've got one or two ideas ..."
"Let me guess," said Dhiti. "Senshi ninja training! How Not To Be
Seen."
Bendis gave her an interested look. "Not bad," she said. "Though I was
actually thinking of --"
"Do you mind?" put in Miyo. "We're just waiting for Itsuko. She's got
some kind of scheme cooked up. She wouldn't tell me what it is, but I
think we're going to -- wait a moment. There she is."
They looked and saw a van driving up toward the park. It was making a
most peculiar noise. Instead of the regular hum of an electric motor,
it made a kind of low, purring rumble that it took them a few seconds to
identify.
"That's an alcohol engine!" exclaimed Suzue. "Where did she get one of
those? A farm?"
Miyo shrugged; but she, too, was staring. She was spared having to
answer as Itsuko pulled to a halt in front of the group and called out,
"Hop in."
They clambered inside and found seats. As Itsuko threw the van into
gear again and drove off, they threw a chorus of questions at her:
"Where are we going?" "Where did you get this van?" "Is it yours?"
"Oh, I know a few people," she answered vaguely, keeping her eyes on the
road. "And we're going out of town a way. I thought we'd have more
privacy there."
"Hey, neat!" said Dhiti. "I've hardly ever been out into the
countryside."
"I have," said Beth. "The Hiking Club at school goes out five or six
times a year. Mostly it's by train, but a couple of times the school's
hired a bus."
Itsuko sighed. "Sometimes I think it was a mistake to switch to
electric cars, back in the Forties. They don't have much range, so
people don't often go out of town any more."
"Well, no," said Suzue logically, "but then, there isn't really very
much to _do_ out of town, is there? So why bother to go?"
Itsuko turned her head for a moment to glance at her. "That,"
she said, "is exactly the problem."
"What?" Suzue stared at her, baffled; but Itsuko only shook her head
and concentrated on driving.
It took them a few minutes to get out of the city. A great mass of
railway lines led south-east from Third Tokyo, and the road followed
them for some distance. Then it turned east and ran on through broad
stretches of fields on either side. For a while, as they left Third
Tokyo behind, there were other cars on the road with them. After an
hour or so, though, they passed the return-distance range of an electric
car, and drove on virtually alone. The condition of the road grew
rapidly worse after that point. They saw an occasional farm truck, but
nothing else.
Itsuko had to keep most of her attention on the road, but she spared an
ear to listen to the girls in the rear of the van. The five of them
chattered away merrily, completely at ease. Dhiti did most of the
talking, unsurprisingly, but the others joined in freely. Even Iku
spoke up a few times, usually at Dhiti's rather unsubtle coaxing. Beth
was rather quiet for a time, as if she had something on her mind, but
after a little she too seemed to relax and start to enjoy herself.
Suzue, on the other hand, did not say a lot, and seldom smiled; but when
she did speak, there was a note in her voice that showed that she was
enjoying herself; and once, when for some reason or other the others
were arguing about music, she startled them all by bursting into song,
in a clear, pure voice that had everyone in the van applauding when she
finished.
(She was going to have to have a serious talk with Suzue. 'Error of her
ways,' indeed!)
And as for Miyo ... Itsuko smiled to herself. Miyo remained Miyo. Not
quite the Makoto she had once been, more than two thousand years ago, to
be sure. She was less self-reliant in this life, and seemingly less of
a starry-eyed romantic as well. That came of growing up with a family,
Itsuko supposed, and especially with two brothers. Their loss had hurt
her deeply, and Itsuko knew that she still cried about it at night; but
now, hearing her laughing and joking with the other girls, she thought
that perhaps this day out was the best medicine Miyo could have had.
At any rate, the girls seemed to be coming together nicely. That was a
relief. Itsuko had been afraid that, without the uniting presence of a
Sailor Moon to lead them, they would never really grow close enough to
become the team they needed to be. She was uncomfortably aware of how
little she herself had had in common with the other Senshi, long ago.
If they had not had Usagi as their focus, befriending them willy-nilly
and binding them to her with her warmth, her love and her care, they
would never have fitted together.
But so far, this new team seemed to be working out well enough. Miyo
had, perhaps inevitably, become their de facto leader. They teased her
mercilessly -- even Suzue had started calling her 'obaasan' now -- but
they respected her nonetheless. Why, when Beth had thought Miyo was in
trouble, she had not hesitated to call the other Senshi together and
rush out to rescue her ...
Itsuko grimaced at the thought. She was still not sure what to do about
that fiasco; but she was going to have to talk to Beth about it sometime
today. Perhaps Artemis would have some idea of how to handle it.
Then, with a sudden shock, she heard what the girls in the back were
talking about now, and realised that she was not going to have the
leisure to plot strategies with the moon cat.
"-- Go on," Dhiti was saying, a wicked glint in her eye. "We'd love to
hear all about it. To get the other point of view." She shot a glance
at Miyo and added, "Since Hayashi and I were ... you know, all tied up
at the time."
"Oh ..." Beth looked nervous. "I suppose so. Um." She squirmed about
in her seat for a moment, glancing at Bendis; but the cat remained oddly
silent. "Well. You see, I was trying to get hold of Sailor Jupiter, to
find out what had happened about the, um, the bodies at the warehouse,
but she wasn't answering her communicator ..."
Itsuko saw Miyo's sudden start in the rear-vision mirror, and then her
look of mortification, and had to stifle a groan. So that was how the
whole thing had begun. She glanced over at Artemis, who was curled up
in the other front seat, but he simply gave her a helpless shrug.
Beth went on with her story, gradually shedding her embarrassment as she
warmed to her subject. Suzue threw in a word of confirmation now and
then. Gradually it all came out: the raid on the warehouse; the Opal,
and the men who captured Sailor Mars; and the last-minute victory when
Mars prevented the enemy from escaping with the captive Mercury and
Jupiter.
Dhiti listened to it all, totally rapt, her eyes shining. The smile on
her face grew wider and wider as the story wore on. "Amazing," she said
when Beth fell silent at last. "Just amazing. We were really lucky
there, weren't we, Hayashi?"
Miyo opened her mouth to answer, looking pained; but before she could
speak, Artemis broke in. "Just a minute," he said. "These men said
they were from the Sankaku clans?"
"Umm," said Iku, taken aback. "Yes. They said they were in disguise.
They said ..." She bit her lip. "They said they were going to
eliminate us," she finished in a small voice.
"The Sankaku," Artemis murmured. "That doesn't make sense. Why would
they be fighting us?"
"Could they be allies of Lady Blue, do you think?" asked Beth. Then her
face fell. "But she's never needed allies before ..."
"They might have some kind of resources that she needs," mused Suzue.
"For all we know, they may be stealing Crystal Tokyo relics for her.
That could explain that tracker unit she had at the theatre."
"Good point," said Artemis. "And we know the Enemy controls crystal,
so he'd probably have been able to get it working, too."
"Wait a minute," said Dhiti, startled. "You don't mean you're taking
this seriously?"
"Why wouldn't he?" asked Beth innocently.
"Dhiti-san, Miyo-san, did they say anything to you that might suggest
what they're planning?" asked Suzue.
"What?" said Miyo, visibly taken aback. "To me?" She flushed suddenly.
"Er, they ... I mean -- I'm not --" Gradually, she stuttered to a halt.
Beth, Suzue and Iku all stared at her.
"Go on, Hayashi," said Dhiti wickedly. "We're on tenterhooks here."
"I --" Miyo looked at the three expectant faces, then away again.
"Damn it, Dhiti!" she burst out. "This is all your fault!"
"_My_ fault? Hey, they did it, not me! Where do you get --"
"No, but you let them go on believing it!"
There was a moment's silence. Then Dhiti said, very quietly, "You could
have told them any time you liked, Hayashi. You could do it right now."
Miyo winced. "I -- no, you're right. I'm sorry ..."
Beth looked from Miyo to Dhiti and back. Her face was a mask of
confusion. "What are you two _talking_ about?"
With a sigh, Suzue said, "I think they mean that ... It wasn't true,
was it? You two were never prisoners at all."
Dhiti looked at her, then away again. "No," she admitted.
"I was in the bath," Miyo confessed. "I didn't have my communicator
with me. I just ... never heard it. I'm sorry, Beth-chan."
"What?" said Beth wildly. "But -- but that can't be right! You had to
be! I mean -- those men, they admitted it! They _said_ they had you
prisoner!"
"I did wonder if it was a wild-goose chase, while we were in the
warehouse yard," said Suzue thoughtfully. "But then ... Beth is right.
Those men _did_ tell us -- well, they told Iku ..."
Suddenly everyone was looking at Iku. She shrank back in her seat,
shaking her head wildly. "No!" she said. "I swear! They did tell me,
they did! They said they had two of us prisoner on the Opal!"
The other girls exchanged glances. Then Artemis put in, "But you didn't
see any Senshi escape from the Opal, and if they'd been trapped on board
the firemen would have found them; it'd have been on the news."
Miyo nodded. "The Sankaku were lying."
"Lying," Beth echoed. "Of course." She looked up at Miyo and Dhiti,
and there was a strange emptiness in her eyes. "It's true, isn't it?"
she said. It was not a question. "You weren't in any danger. You
weren't even there. I was just ... playing the fool. Leading the
others into danger, and all for nothing."
Bendis stirred on her lap. "Beth-chan, it's not like that," she began.
"Isn't it?" Beth stared at her for a moment. Then, deliberately, she
picked the cat up and placed her on the floor of the van. "All this
time, Bendis. You -- you knew, but you let me go on thinking it was
real, all this time. I thought I was doing something important there!
I thought we'd _won_ something!"
"You jumped to conclusions all by yourself, and you didn't want to
listen when I tried to tell you!" the cat exclaimed. "And besides, even
if there wasn't anything there I thought it'd make a good training
exercise ..."
"Training exercise. Of course," Beth said. She gazed at Bendis for a
moment longer, then shook her head. "You and Nanako," she whispered.
"Both of you."
Bracing herself against the swaying of the van, she stood up and made
her way carefully back to the unoccupied rear seat. She sat down there,
turned her face to the window, and closed her eyes.
The van rumbled on, its occupants noticeably quieter than they had been.
They had left the fields behind, and the road now wound its way
gradually up into the hills. The land about them was covered with thick
bush; and then, minutes later, a real forest. It had been some time
since they had seen another vehicle.
And then at last, when the silence in the rear of the van was almost
thick enough to cut with a knife, Itsuko let out a pleased "Ah!" and
turned the van off the main road, onto a narrow, almost invisible lane
that led off through the trees. They bumped along for a few minutes
more, branches scraping the windows on either side, and then suddenly
emerged into a large grassy clearing.
Itsuko brought the van to a shuddering halt. "Everybody out!" she
announced. "We're here."
--**--
[End of segment 4 of 6]