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themselves together, the six moved back through the devastation, and 
emerged just in time to see several dozen Youma struggling to their feet, 
glowing with a lurid dark energy as they struggled to heal themselves of 
various hideous burns.

"Stopped fire, Lady," One panted, turning unsteady eyes to Cryolite. "but 
fire hurt; changed body; die later without Zeolite-Sama's help."

Zeolite stared about her.

"The golems?" she demanded.

"All destroyed in the explosion it would seem," Tellurite observed as he 
stared about at the solidified spray of metal that was all that remained 
of the buma. "It seems Uranite saved our hides after all, although I'd 
prefer not to repeat the experience.

"but what in Metallia's name have you done to our people, I wonder?" he 
continued, turning to glare at the mage.

"The blast would have released enough wide-spectrum non-magical energy to 
damage living tissue," he explained. "They'll need Zeolite's healing 
skills before that damage becomes permanent."

Zeolite nodded in understanding. Then with a murmur, she flung her arms 
wide, and a moment later an impenetrable darkness enveloped both the 
Youma, and herself and her five companions.

"To be safe," she said simply, relenting a few seconds later. "That should 
be enough. But now, what are we to--"

"DOWN!" screamed Halite.

They were only just in time. Several of the Youma however were not so 
fortunate as a dozen more C-55s, and several of the huge Bu-12Bs came 
hurtling from above, beams, missiles, and heavy-calibre bullets already 
screaming as they plunged into the fray.

"It would seem," Tellurite shouted grimly as he slammed another attack 
into the ground, "that the night's festivities have only just begun. We 
*have* to get them out of here!"

 				     * * *

"What in the Devil's name possessed you to use something like this!"

Fellini's snarling tone was barely controlled as he turned for a moment 
from the window to glare malevolently at the girl beside him.

The car she had taken was one of the executive pool, perfect for 
chauffeur-driven comfort, but little-suited for negotiating the 
worse-than-usual Megatokyo snarl that was preventing them from making 
decent headway.

"Well, of course, if you'd preferred we were tracked and vaporised within 
minutes of leaving the tower, you could have saved me a good deal of 
trouble," she hissed venomously in return, not bothering to turn as she 
wove her way with seemingly effortless precision between wildly swerving 
cars, and shouting drivers. "We've more than enough time to reach the 
estate."

"And if they *do* follow us?" he demanded. "What chance have we in this. 
Not to mention that they can probably disable it with an override; I 
wouldn't put that past them. What in the hell did you think you were 
doing?"

"Keep complaining *father*," she began in a warning purr, "and I swear 
I'll slit your throat where you sit, and pitch the remains into the 
street." By the time she had finished, the purr had become a low, venomous 
snarl. "If you're really such an imbecile as to think me fool enough not 
to have anticipated that possibility, or the time we would need--"

"If we don't reach the estate before the time of awakening, Liana, the 
programming could break down. You know as well as I do that the conversion 
is still far from stable. If we're not there when--"

"SHUT...UP!" The tone was a savage, animal sound of fury that sent a 
sudden thrill of terror knifing through Fellini, despite his certainty 
that he had ensured she could never rebel, or harm him. "I am perfectly 
aware, you microcephalic, subsentient imbecile, of the importance, and 
implications of this night. Don't presume to insult my intelligence."

"What!" Fellini's voice was a sudden answering snarl of pathological rage. 
"What did you just say to me?"

Liana's sense of her own superiority he could allow within certain limits; 
he had encouraged it, after all. But that she should *dare* speak to him 
like that: that she should presume he would tolerate such an insult from 
something created by his nemesis.

"Listen to me, you superior, self-smug bitch," he hissed, "and listen 
well! Never, *ever* Dare speak to me in that tone again! *I* command, and 
you will do as you are told, or so help me I'll make you more sorry than 
you can begin to--"

The crack to the cheek nearly sent him through the window. Stunned, barely 
conscious, he turned dazed, staring eyes towards her, unable to comprehend 
what had happened. He could taste blood in his mouth, and his cheek-bone 
felt as though it might well be broken.

"I think you misunderstand," she began conversationally in an almost 
gentle purr, her voice seeming suddenly to be reaching him through a 
star-spangled haze from some great distance. "You appear to be labouring 
under the mistaken delusion that I was cowed or fool enough to leave those 
little limitations of yours in place. Further, you seem to have 
misinterpreted my command of a moment ago as a request. I don't recall 
giving you permission to continue your asinine whining, nor in fact to 
make any sound at all until I tell you otherwise.

"Which means, you congenital apostate, that you have two choices. Either 
you can remain very silent and very still, and so be alive and breathing 
when we reach the estate, or you can continue this imbecilic diatribe of 
cretinous complaining and--

"What the KAMI!"

Liana's sudden shocked shriek was enough to bring the world leaping back 
into focus for the scientist.

Jerking himself upright, fighting desperately to ignore the knifing pain 
in his face, and pull his chaotic mind to order, he stared in the 
direction of her suddenly upraised hand, and gasped. Before them, cars 
were swerving in every direction, the sounds of screaming tyres and 
shattering glass seeming suddenly to fill the night.

"What--" he demanded, forgetting everything else for a moment. (What in 
Christ's name!--"

"Rampage," Liana hissed.

"Quincy!" Fellini snarled, suddenly tightly focussed and utterly engulfed 
once more in the seething sea of hate that would allow for no other 
consideration. "That bastard, self-smug *ape*! One step ahead yet again: 
so sure of himself as always! Damn him! Damn him to hell! By *Christ*, 
he'll pay for this. I'll have that sneering, superior bastard screaming 
and begging for death before--"

"Later," she snapped, cutting through his tirade. "We've no time. We need 
to know exactly how the situation stands."

Pulling from the highway on to the pavement with no thought for the chaos 
it would cause, she unfastened her harness, and flung her door wide.

A moment later both were out and standing by the car, staring towards the 
growing confusion.

For a moment nothing could be seen. Then in the next, a brilliant green 
flash lit the night, and a moment later a shattering crack like thunder 
seemed to split the air, cries and screams only adding to the chaos.

"Come on!" Liana cried, diving back into the car, and seizing the cases. 
"We'll never get through like this. We'll have to make our way around, and 
steal another car."

Nodding, her earlier behaviour forgotten already in his searing fury, 
Fellini caught up the last case, and followed her as she began along the 
street at a pace she knew he could match. As they ran, the sounds of 
battle drew nearer, and soon they began to encounter people fleeing in the 
opposite direction.

"Get out! Get the f***ing hell out'a here!" someone shouted, actually 
slowing to try to spin Liana around.

"What is it?" she demanded, twisting effortlessly from his lunging hand. 
"What's happening?"

"Some new buma that's decided to have a night out," he answered. "Are you 
coming, or not?"

Liana ignored him, and began forwards once more.

"Alright! Get yourselves blown to the kami!" he screamed after them, and 
went on running.

Panting, struggling now to keep up with Liana's easy, fluid speed, Fellini 
rounded yet another corner, and nearly slammed into her suddenly frozen 
form.

"What the hell--!" he snapped.

Then his voice choked off, and he stood gaping at the sight before him.

At the further end of the street, some twenty or so of the new Bu-55C-iiis 
and more than a dozen of the huge Bu-12Bs were in the midst of a pitched 
battle with things that he found difficult to describe. If they were buma, 
he had never seen anything like them. Vaguely human in shape, and indeed 
the majority sporting almost completely human heads, they were 
nevertheless grotesquely distorted, horrible, sometimes nightmare parodies 
that could almost have been comical, were they not intent it seemed on 
tearing the machines and everything else around them apart.

"What in the *hell* is going on?" Fellini gasped, then gaped even wider as 
a fleet of Genom helicopters appeared, speeding overhead to drop still 
more of the enhanced combat machines into the fray.