No subject

the slightest notice of the four hardsuits when they had appeared at the 
first, then the second scene of chaos. Those had each been brief 
encounters, the majority of the enemy having already been mopped up by the 
combat machines before their arrival. This time however things were 
different. There seemed to be scores of the nightmare parodies, and all of 
them it seemed were able to fly. Also the buma seemed to be few, and 
concentrating more on keeping the creatures from using the roofs of the 
buildings as effective cover for sniping, pinning them down while the ADP 
dealt with them as best they could.

Priss flipped from the path of a spiralling, green-flaring whip that 
seemed to be attached to the arm of the female human-insect cross-breed, 
and returned fire with the rail-gun, the heavy projectile punching through 
the head of the thing before she could move, or scream. Priss had no time 
to stare as the body crumbled, and vanished. She was already turning 
towards another of the nightmares as it plunged towards her from above. 
Rocketing to meet it, she drove a fist into its armoured head, and heard a 
satisfying crack as its neck snapped like a twig, and it dropped lifeless 
towards the ground, already beginning to dissolve before it slammed into 
the pavement. Then in the next instant something slammed into her from 
behind, and she was turning end over end in a wild dive. Trying 
desperately to shake the sudden stars from her head, Priss fought the 
spin, and had just managed to right herself when a second bolt sent her 
reeling to crash through the skylight of an office building.

Through a haze of exploding glass, and shattering plaster, Priss smashed 
down across a desk, splintering a terminal to fragments, and turning the 
fine mahogany to scrap as she slammed across the wide expanse of plush 
carpet. A filing cabinet at last stopped her headlong plunge, its contents 
erupting in all directions as she came to rest at last, one shoulder 
wedged in the shattered remains of its door.

"That's gunna hurt later," she groaned, pulling herself free, and 
surveying the damage her entrance had caused.

Papers had joined broken glass, plaster, the terminal's internals, 
mahogany, and other undefinable flotsam in a ruinous cascade across the 
floor.

"Someone's not gunna be happy," she observed dryly, then gasped and leapt 
aside only just in time as a flash-pulse of flame turned what remained of 
the desk into a blazing pillar of fire.

"Right; now you've got me angry," Priss snarled.

Ignoring the further damage she would cause, she shot straight up, and 
through the ceiling, plaster and roof-tiles exploding in her wake as she 
burst skywards, and punched a shot through the chest of the thing that had 
been waiting for her.

It had one stunned moment to stare stupidly at her before it dropped into 
the hole she had made, and disappeared.

"I don't think you'll be coming out again," she said, shooting into the 
air, and diving towards the street.

She had almost reached ground when a sudden warning shout shrilled through 
the comms.

"Priss, Sylia, Nene! Something very weird's going on here!"

Redirecting her dive, Priss hurtled towards the place her suit indicated 
Linna to be. Then a sudden similar scream from Nene made her freeze, 
uncertain of what to do.

"HERE too Sylia! Can't detect anything but it's like a swirling black 
something. They're falling everywhere, everyone but the buma. Can't--! So 
tired suddenly--! Must be gas! Can't--!"

Nene's voice faltered into silence. Then Priss saw it, a swirling vortex 
of darkness that seemed to be swelling, and surging from the suddenly 
gathered ranks of the creatures. Staring aghast, she saw a K-12 stumble, 
and halt in mid-charge, its cannon suddenly falling to hang listlessly 
before it. Then the broiling blackness was leaping at her, and Priss shot 
into the air only just in time.

Staring down in horror, she watched in disbelief as the last of the men 
and women were overwhelmed, and fell suddenly silent. Then a squad of 
Bu-12Bs were hurtling at the gathered creatures, a devastating barrage 
hammering at the aliens as they stood packed tight together. Priss 
continued to stare as the rounds and blasts slammed into them but appeared 
to do no harm. For a moment she watched uncomprehending. Then straining, 
she made out a faint, barely perceptible shimmer in the air around, and 
above them. Even as the swirling vortex grew, and deepened, dark tendrils 
seeming now to flow to converge at the place where they were gathered, so 
the shimmering barrier seemed to grow, and solidify. For a moment the 
barrage continued, then several of the things detached themselves and, 
bathed in the lurid darkness, moved out towards the ADP. Ignoring the 
hammering assault of the buma, they approached several prone forms, and 
reaching down, touched lightly at each forehead. Almost immediately the 
men, and women stirred, and rose, their faces blank, and their eyes vacant 
as they turned towards the machines. Priss watched gaping as one woman 
raised the small pistol she was carrying, and fired a heavy-calibre round 
into the head of a C-55. The buma began to turn, then abruptly it pivoted, 
and punched a blast near point-blank into the face of one of the 
strangers. Screaming, his shield unable to cope, the creature collapsed, 
and dissipated, and the woman, and a man beside her dropped once more to 
the ground.

Priss remained frozen for a moment, then a sudden movement further off 
caught her attention. Turning she saw one of the creatures approaching a 
frozen green-suited figure.

"Oh sh*t, no!" she gasped softly.

Whipping around, she shot forwards on furiously-screaming jets, and dived 
headlong into the blackness, hammering the thing with a storm of fire 
until she was satisfied at last that it was down. Then, already giddy, and 
nauseous from entering whatever it was, she shot skywards again, and was 
nearly caught in the visor by a sudden flash from her right.

Turning, she gaped in stupefied fascination as the K-12 levelled its 
cannon at her in a wobbly aim, as though its operator had forgotten how to 
use it. Then it fired again, and she was far more intent on staying alive 
than wondering about the state of its occupant.

Spinning away, she jerked about, then shrieked, twisting desperately aside 
as a shot from another of the mechs tore through the place she had been an 
instant before.

"Sh*t! Hey, go, and shoot something else damn you!" Priss screamed, more 
in fury than anything else. "Don't you idiots even know how to stay 
unconscious?"

She was not so concerned for herself. The fire was unlikely to be able to 
do any real damage at this range, and if necessary she could keep them 
shooting until they ran out of ammunition. If the ADP resource problem ran 
true to form, it was unlikely to take long. It was the possibility that 
they would hurt someone else that worried her, that, and the fact that one 
of those things might manage to reach one of the other hardsuits in the 
confusion. Where were the others anyway? Linna was the only one she could 
see.

Ducking another vicious barrage, Priss flipped aside, dived, and smashed 
at full tilt into the suddenly leaping form of one of the aliens. While 
her impetus shattered her like splintering wood, Priss was sent hurtling 
out of control to smash head-first through the roof of an ADP cruiser.

Dazed, fighting desperately against the sudden waves of ice and sickness 
that had closed about her the moment she had plunged into the vortex, 
Priss hurled herself upwards once more, heedless of the jarring pain as 
her suit slammed its way out by main force. Barely aware, trying vainly to 
pull her failing consciousness to order, Priss twisted desperately into a 
position where her thrusters could carry her skywards. Then suddenly a 
scream shrilled in her comms.

"Priss! Behind you!"

Sylia's voice had barely registered when Priss was caught from behind in a 
vicious vice-like grip.

For one dazed moment she hung helpless, her head half turned towards the 
apparition as it dragged her down and into the numbing ice of oblivion. 
Then in the next something blurred in her vision, and the thing was no 
more than a dissipating spray in the air before her.

"Did not I tell you to look for us when you least expected it, and when 
you most needed help?" Came a sudden warm female voice close to her 
helmet.

Then another gentler grip was about her, and the ground was falling 
rapidly away as she was carried up, and into the light once more.

"Marina?" she gasped, her heart pounding wildly as she fought desperately 
to claw her way to consciousness.

"Shh, give yourself a moment," This time the words came through the suit's 
suite. "It will take a minute, or two for the effects of the energy drain 
to fade."

"Energy drain?" Priss gasped uncomprehending. "I thought it was gas or--"

"Shh," Marina insisted gently once more. "and stop struggling. Can't you 
bring yourself to trust me even a little?"

A moment later Priss felt the DA touch down, and then she was set on her 
feet, Marina steadying her while the world came back into focus.

Staring confusedly about her, Priss found herself atop one of the tallest 
of the office complexes, far above the growing, roiling blackness below.

For a moment Marina was her only companion. Then a hiss and thunk 
announced Sylia's arrival. Priss began to turn bleary eyes towards her, 
then stared as another figure dropped from above to touch down at Marina's 
side.

As tall as Marina herself, her long hair was dark, and her eyes as she 
turned to study Priss intently for a moment were a magnetic blue-green 
rather than the captivating blue of Marina's own.

"Camilla?" Priss managed, her voice still infuriatingly trembling.

The buma curtsied deeply, and flashed her a quick, intense smile.

Startled, Priss started to turn fully to her, then a sudden movement from 
below made her jerk about once more.

"Those things are trying for Linna again" she exclaimed, her voice 
shrilling as she fought down the last of the confusion, and prepared to 
leap once more into the fray. "and I still can't see Nene! I--"

"Stay." Marina's tone was suddenly fiercely intense as she tightened her 
hold for a moment about Priss's waist, although whether to restrain or 
reassure her, Priss could not be certain. "I'll bring them, and deal with 
the enemy.

"Guard them, Imouto," she continued, turning for a moment to Camilla. 
"Vaporise anything that dares so much as look in their direction; we can't 
afford to take chances. I won't be long."

"Be careful, Oneechan," said Camilla softly, reaching to touch Marina's 
hand. "They still may not be what they seem."

Marina flashed her a fierce smile as warm and deadly as any look Priss had 
ever seen. Then without a word she turned and flashed like a missile 
towards Linna's green hardsuit. In the next instant so it seemed to 
Priss's staring eyes she was airborne again, Linna's unmoving form held 
fiercely to her as she soared once more towards them.

"Where's--?" Priss began.

But Marina was already gone, screaming away from them almost before 
Camilla had caught and steadied Linna's suit.

"Is she...?" Priss demanded.

This time it was Sylia who answered, her own voice tight.

"According to her suit's systems she's unhurt," she said. "But she isn't 
responding.

"Mackie?"

"I'm on my way," he answered, even as a sudden flash and explosion from 
below caught their attention.

Priss turned, watching in stunned amazement as a huge ball of undulating 
darkness leapt to a point some fifty yards to her right. For a moment she 
could not see what the things were shooting at. Then Marina appeared above 
the vortex, Nene's pink hardsuit cradled to her as she raced again for the 
roof.

"Pathetic!" she cried exultantly as she touched down once more. Her blue 
eyes seemed to glow savagely with an inner fire, and her face wore a wild, 
ecstatic grin of blood-lust and hungry battle-rage as terrifying as any 
combat machine as she turned again to Camilla.

"Shall we, Imouto?" she ended.

"Are you sure, Oneechan?" Camilla inquired with a touch of trepidation.

"I'm sure," cried Marina fiercely. "Besides," she added in a sudden 
quieter tone, "we can't afford to allow them to influence anybody else, 
and the conventional combat machines can't penetrate their shield."

"But what--?" Sylia began.

"Watch," said Marina simply. "Watch, and learn."

In the next instant she, and Camilla tensed, and hurled themselves 
skywards. A fractional moment later blazing trails erupted behind them as 
they twisted, turned, and plunged down, sudden exultant battle-screams 
seeming to fill the night, as they hurtled straight towards the gathered 
creatures.

Just what happened next Priss could never afterwards describe with any 
certainty. In one instant the two machines were plunging into the 
blackness. In the next it was collapsing in upon itself as though it had 
never been, and the four-score or more nightmares were nothing but a 
vanishing flare of brilliant, boiling flame.

Gaping, too shocked to speak, Priss watched as the DAs streaked back 
towards them, the wild grins of blood-lust vanishing as quickly as they 
had appeared, as they touched down once more. Marina opened her mouth to 
speak. Then a sudden groan from Linna silenced her.

"Oh my head!" Linna moaned softly. "What happened?"

A moment later Nene also was beginning to stir, and staring down, Priss 
saw that the ADP were slowly picking themselves up, staring about them in 
confusion as the buma, already receiving new instructions now that this 
attack had been dealt with, leapt skywards and sped into the night, to 
rendezvous with the transports that would take them to another scene of 
chaos.

"This is crazy!" she exclaimed softly. "Sylia, what the hell did those 
things do down there?"

"I'm as much at a loss as you, Priss," she answered simply, reaching to 
steady Linna as she began to try to move. "Keep still for a few moments," 
she said gently to her. "We can't afford to open your helmet here, but 
Mackie's on his way. Are you alright?"

"No," Linna gasped. "I've got a splitting headache, and I've never felt so 
tired.

"What did those things do? Some kind of gas? The suit didn't warn me, but 
if it was something we haven't had to deal with before--"

"There was no gas, or other physical narcotic," said Marina simply through 
the comms.

Linna gasped, and tried to turn.

"It's alright," said Priss quietly. "At least I hope it is," she continued 
to herself.

"How? When?" Linna tried, turning unfocused eyes for a moment to the two 
DAs.

"Later," said Marina quietly.

"Neechan, they're all awake below it seems, but in no condition to fight 
any more tonight."

"Confirmation enough don't you think?" she inquired softly.

"But Neechan it's not possible!" Camilla protested.

"None of this should be possible," Marina countered.

"They might still be buma, some perverse joke on the part of the chairman; 
or should they truly be alien, of a technology so advanced as to allow 
them to mask their true forms."

"In which case the similarity to our data is purely coincidental, not to 
mention the inexplicable energy readings, and DNA samples we've taken," 
Observed Marina with a touch of amusement. "I think my explanation better 
fits the criteria, don't you? Even more so, given the reported 
fluctuations in baseline physical principles."

Camilla was silent for a fractional instant that seemed to Marina an 
eternity.

"Some genetic experiment?" she offered almost desperately at last. 
"Neechan, the alternative is..."

"Too impossible to contemplate?" said Marina simply. "I agree; yet the 
physical evidence supports no other reasonable conclusion. And it *is* a 
fascinating conjecture is it not? Think what it might mean; what we might 
learn."

"Um...is this a private argument, or could you two possibly explain what 
you're talking about?" Linna asked blearily. "My head's killing me, and 
I'm not really in the mood for long explanations, but I'd like to know 
just what tried to kill me, if it's not too much trouble."

"We believe--" Camilla began.

"Not yet, Imouto," said Marina quietly. "It's too soon."

"But if this *is* possible?"

"No," Marina insisted quietly but firmly. "Besides, the Knightwing's 
coming. They should go, and so should we. There are still Youma roaming 
everywhere."

"But in disarray," Camilla protested. "Neechan if they're to accept your 
offer, they've a right to know everything. They've a right to expect our 
trust."

"In the same way they trust us?" said Marina quietly but with a hint now 
of steel in her tone.

She turned abruptly to Priss, her blue eyes locking on her visor. For a 
moment each stared at the other in silence, then slowly Priss raised a 
gloved hand.

"Look," she began uncertainly. "I'm not really in the mood for this now. 
Whatever's going on is too important. I suppose you saved my life back 
there. I don't think that thing was gunna try to tango. Thanks for the 
help; all right?"

She shifted uncomfortably, suddenly unwilling to meet Marina's intense, 
searching gaze.

"It's not enough," said Marina simply at last; "not *nearly* enough."

Then abruptly Priss's comms came to life with her own voice: "Are you sure 
that thing didn't give you too much of whatever it was this morning! 
You're absolutely crazy. There's no way I'm trusting one of those things. 
I don't give a damn what you, or them, or anyone else says. The things are 
top-line Genom military combat machines! Hell; they make C-55s and 33Cs 
look like kid's toys, and tame as a bloody kitten in comparison! And if 
you think for one moment that I'm gunna trust a piece of experimental 
Genom military combat sh*t with my back in a fight...! I won't do it! I 
*can't*! I..."

"I should have realised you wouldn't try to understand," Marina continued 
simply.

Without another word she turned away, her face a sudden mask of ice to 
hide any other emotion.

Priss stood very still, a confusing maelstrom of shame and fury fighting 
for supremacy. That bitch had been spying on them, or had bugged Sylia's 
security system. Yet she might well have done exactly the same in her 
place. For a moment, a sudden unlooked-for sympathy tightened her throat. 
Marina and Camilla were fighting for their freedom, just like Sylvie and 
the others, assuming they weren't playing assigned roles at Genom's 
command.

But there lay the crux of the problem. As a 33S, Sylvie had been a 
creature whose most basic design ethic had been to please and cater to 
every whim of a human master. While she and the others had gone vastly 
beyond their designer's intentions, and could fight and kill in extremity, 
natural cruelty and the instinctive savagery of Genom's C-class and 
D-class machines had been as alien to them as kindness and compassion to a 
C55. learning what Sylvie was had not changed Priss's feelings towards 
her, even knowing what she had had to do to survive. She had been a 
friend, and Priss would have given anything for things to be different: to 
be able somehow to have spared and saved her.

But the DAs were top-line combat machines, intended as military hardware, 
and their design ethic could not have been more the antithesis of the girl 
Priss had come to call one of the best friends she had ever had, even in 
the short time she had known her. And even for combat machines, the DAs 
were unimaginably, appallingly dangerous.

Yet Marina's grief at Zhuranovsky's death had been real: Priss could not 
believe anything else despite all she had said, and the DA had risked 
herself for her and the others: had warned them of Genom's plans for them, 
when she could have left them to face Camilla alone.

Or had she helped them only because it was expedient, because with them 
had lain her best chance to rescue Camilla? Priss could not be sure; she 
could not be sure of anything.

Fighting down the confusing tide of conflicting emotions, she took a 
hesitant step towards Marina, reaching for a moment as though to touch her 
shoulder, before shaking her head and withdrawing her hand. For a moment 
she remained silent. Then at last she sighed.

"Look," she began; "I'm not going to apologise for being careful, nor for 
what I said. I'm not ready to be convinced just like that; hey it's 
probably going to take a long time for me to even begin to trust you. But 
I'm willing to give you the chance to prove I'm wrong. I can't promise 
anything else. I'll be watching you, and if you screw up or try to hurt 
one of my friends, I won't stop until you're in more pieces than Alexei 
Zhura-whatsisname ever put in any diagrams. I'm being as honest as I can; 
all right? You're not going to get anything else. So what's it to be; 
truce?"

For a long moment Marina remained unmoving. She had tensed, momentary 
anger kindling with shocking speed in her flashing blue eyes when Priss 
had mentioned her father. But Priss had not seen. Now slowly Marina turned 
to face her.

"I don't understand," she said at last. "Your initial suspicion I could 
appreciate; I was desperate, and you had no reason to believe anything but 
the worst. But what more do you want? I could have abandoned you to fend 
for yourselves: not troubled to return after rescuing Camilla, or left you 
tonight to deal with the enemy as best you could."

Priss opened her mouth. But she hesitated, suddenly with no idea what to 
say, or even whether Marina had a right for an explanation so soon.

"Priss has other reasons, Marina." Sylia's sudden quiet words had the 
young singer turning to her in startled surprise. "She's been betrayed 
again and again, and her concerns are valid.

"But we haven't time for this now," she continued before Priss could 
speak. "Nor is it my place to explain. Mackie's almost here, and we have 
to get Nene at least out of her suit."

"Damn!" Priss exclaimed, forcing her thoughts back to the present.

She had all but forgotten the other two in the confusing emotional hail of 
the last minute. Linna, barely able herself to keep from fainting, was 
helping Sylia support a shivering and incoherent Nene, while Camilla stood 
behind her, ready to catch her should she lose the battle, and fall.

Quickly Priss moved to take Linna's place, steadying the dead weight of 
the red-pink hardsuit. Sylia had shut it down in case Nene's violent 
shivering hurt her or one of them. A moment later the Knightwing appeared 
overhead, circling low as Mackie looked for a place to land.

"I'm not going to be able to--" he began.

"There's no need," Marina transmitted in return. "We should go; we should 
intervene before others are hurt, and while there's still time. But you 
deserve our help. We can carry Linna, and Nene."

"'m alright!" Linna insisted. But it was plain that it was bravado.

She had begun to shiver violently, and Camilla had caught hold of the 
suddenly lurching suit.

"Close down the suit, Linna," Sylia commanded quietly. "We have no other 
option. Priss?"

"I'll be alright," she assured her.

"Then let's get out of here," said Sylia.

There was a hiss as the two hardsuits, and the DAs carrying the others, 
lifted from the roof, and soared towards the circling plane. Then they 
were inside, and Mackie had sealed the Knightwing, and was speeding into 
the darkness.

 				     * * *

"Keep still!" Marina said in growing frustration.

"Look, I'm alright, damn it," Priss swore feelingly as Marina pushed her 
down, and moved a hand to her neck.

Priss had only discovered the thin sliver of glass when she had removed 
her helmet. Just how it had managed to get inside, she had no idea, but it 
had barely registered as pain, and it was only when she had removed it, 
and the small trickle of blood had become a stream, that she had realised 
just how deep the slash was. Marina had pounced immediately she saw the 
pooling blood, and was now examining the gash intently.

"That will need suturing," she said simply, holding the gash closed with 
two fingers while Priss winced at last with the growing vicious stabs of 
pain.

"It's just a scratch," she insisted, trying to wriggle free of Marina's 
suddenly iron grip.

"If you trust me so little, I will not force you to accept my help," she 
said, her tone suddenly cold. "But do not be a fool. The gash needs 
attention, and immediately, before you do more harm by leaving it too 
long."

A quiet laugh made her turn.

"It's not that, Marina," said Linna, almost impishly. She had been helped 
from her suit by Camilla, and was resting quietly at Nene's side. The 
youngest of the Knight Sabres had still not fully regained consciousness. 
"Priss hates to admit that she's hurt, and hates the cure even more."

Priss turned to glare at her, and Linna grinned in return.

"Alright; stitch the damned thing!" she said with very poor grace.

"There's gratitude for you," Linna observed as Marina flashed a silent 
request to Camilla for what she needed.

Moments later she was kneeling at Priss's side, her hands blurring 
suddenly as she threaded the needle, and tied off the excess.

"Can you manage, Marina?" Sylia inquired, turning from where she knelt 
still at Nene's side to glance at her for a moment.

"Yeah; are you sure you know what you're doing?" said Priss uneasily, 
watching with growing alarm as Marina's hand approached her neck, the 
needle seeming suddenly to gleam evilly in the low light of the cabin.

Abruptly the DA's face twisted into a maniacal smile, her eyes glowing as 
she leaned close.

"Well now," she purred low, her voice suddenly intense, and icily sweet. 
"there's the question. Shall we find out? Hmm?"

"Wha'!" Priss gasped in shock, while Linna began to giggle, and Marina's 
face melted into a reassuring smile.

"Neechan!" Camilla exclaimed in mock outrage.

"Preset data from buma theatre operatives are a part of our general 
libraries," she assured Priss with a smile.

"Am I supposed to be reassured by that?" Priss asked.

"Hey Priss," Linna taunted, still fighting her laughter as she propped 
herself up carefully. "you realise this is *really* going to hurt, don't 
you?"

She giggled again as Priss squirmed, then abruptly she quieted as Marina's 
hands moved in a sudden fluid blur of speed.

"What the...! Hey! Ahgh! Damn!" Priss cried through clenched teeth, then 
stared bewildered as Marina withdrew her hands.

"Ohh; what's'a matter?" Linna began in mock sympathy. Then suddenly she 
stopped, staring with a stupid expression on her face.

"Um...I've got just one question," she said softly at last. "How did you 
do that?"

"You mean its finished?" Priss demanded, her hand flying to her neck.

"Don't touch that!" Marina commanded with a flash of her eyes as she 
pushed Priss's hand away. "I didn't disinfect it to have you playing with 
it."

Quickly she pressed a patch to the place before Priss could protest.

"You should be able to move without difficulty if you're careful," Marina 
told her. "But if I catch you--"

Abruptly she stopped short, and in the same instant Camilla jerked from 
her place by Sylia. Almost at the same moment Mackie's voice reached them.

"Neesan, we could be...no, we *are* in trouble. Something's locked on to 
us, and by the look of the energy build-up, I don't think it's friendly."

Sylia made to answer. Then abruptly the Knightwing's internal comms 
crackled.

"Knight Sabres," came a cold female voice with unnecessary volume through 
the suite; "my name is Liana. Perhaps you have heard of me already; 
perhaps not; it is not important. You have precisely one minute to release 
my sisters. If you do not comply within that time I shall plunge your 
craft into the residential heart of MegaTokyo. It need not be said that 
the resulting devastation will make the events of this night pale into 
insignificance by comparison, not to mention be delightfully amusing to 
watch. You have now fifty-one seconds."

With a snarl Priss leapt to her feet.

"So, we can trust you, can we?" she flared, suddenly, glaring fiery fury 
at Marina. "Just what the hell--"

"Priss!" Sylia's tone was as hard and cold, as Priss had ever heard her. 
"Don't be a fool. They new nothing about this."

"How the *hell* do you know that!" Priss exploded, finally at the end of 
her tether.

She had been tricked and manipulated for the last time, and she had had 
enough.

"Because we could have killed, or taken you a dozen times," said Marina 
softly, reaching to lay a slender hand gently on Priss's arm. "We have no 
need to dissemble with you."

"Perhaps, like most buma, you want to play for a while first," she 
snarled, trying savagely to twist from Marina's grip. But the words seemed 
not even to have convinced herself, and she stood, something tight and 
betrayed in her face as Marina closed the distance to stand close beside 
her.

"We haven't time for this!" Sylia cut in urgently, before the DA could 
respond. "Marina; Camilla; can you--"

"We will go to her," said Marina quietly. "Liana's...not like us. She's 
been terribly ill-treated by a madman consumed with hate and bent on 
revenge, and she distrusts everyone but me I think. Camilla's been 
watching her at a distance for much of the latter afternoon, and I think 
we can reason with her. At least I have to try. If I can win her 
confidence, it should be simple for me to rid her of Genom's and Fellini's 
influence by crossloading my firmware, in the same way I freed Camilla."

"Um...that would really not be a good idea."

Stunned, all four who were on their feet whirled towards the new voice. In 
the next moment a figure emerged from the suddenly open door of the 
Knightwing's small hold, and stepped into the cabin.

She was very tall: as tall as Marina, and Camilla. But whereas they could 
have been sisters, this girl could not have been more absolutely unique. 
Her features were dark and exotic, made it seemed all the more 
staggeringly beautiful in the soft lighting, that gave her face a strange, 
mysterious glow. Long raven-black hair tumbled in a wild, lustrous cascade 
below her waist, and eyes, so dark that they looked black in the low light 
of the Knightwing's interior, gleamed wild and fey from beneath long dark 
lashes. Yet her full mouth was set in an expression of intense 
watchfulness and something almost akin to trepidation, seeming somehow 
utterly incongruous upon such a face as she possessed, as she studied the 
company with a tight, intent gaze.

"Oh great; another one," Priss growled hopelessly, no longer even trying 
to understand what was going on.

She contemplated contenting herself with another murderous glare in 
Marina's direction, then faltered as she saw the expressions on each of 
the other DAs. Either they were keeping up a charade for some 
incomprehensible reason of their own, or both were as thunderstruck as the 
rest.

"Um...not quite; not yet," said the new arrival quickly. (But there's no 
time to explain that now. I think perhaps it might be an idea to contact 
Liana before she does anything...um...terminal, don't you?"

Her voice was low, and seductively musical, yet with a strange, uncertain 
quality to it as incongruous as the tightness in her face.

"Let me talk to her," said Marina before anyone else could speak.

A moment later to everyone's further shock, Sylia's voice as it would 
sound through the masking distortion of her hardsuit could be heard over 
the suite.

"Liana, this is Sabre Prime. As you have deduced, we have both 
BU-33DA-Elite prototypes on-board. If you will allow us to proceed to a 
landing in the canyons, we will release both unharmed. If not, and should 
you choose to fire on the Knightwing, you must know that you will destroy 
them as well as ourselves."

"Oy! Wait a minute!" Mackie cried in alarm.

An instant later every weapons system on the aircraft flashed to 
readiness.

"All weapons are primed," Marina continued, still in Sylia's voice. "Any 
strike will turn us and the DAs into a fireball quite large enough to 
destroy everything, including yourself. Extreme perhaps, but you must 
understand that we have no choice but to protect ourselves with all the 
resources we possess. What is your answer?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Priss shrieked. "That thing'll 
blow us into a million pieces!"

"Wait," Sylia said, her tone although still quiet freezing Priss in place. 
"I don't like it, but I think Marina is right. It's pointless to try 
playing cat, and mouse with her, and she will fire should we try to outrun 
her. This is our best chance."

"Oh, that was *not* a good idea," Came the almost conversational response, 
yet with a purring, psychotic undertone that sent a slow shiver of fear 
down Priss's spine. "Now you've made me displeased. I don't care to be 
displeased, just as I don't care to be threatened; I don't care for it at 
all."

Then abruptly in a clipped, businesslike tone: "very well; the terms are 
accepted. But be assured that should you attempt to flee, or to deceive 
me, your deaths will be far from swift, or pleasant."

"And be assured that, should you attempt something similar, we shall not 
die alone," Marina responded simply.

"Then we understand one another." Liana's tone was again low and purring, 
death a sudden unmistakable promise in her voice that tightened Priss's 
throat as Marina shifted a little at her side.

"I hope you've got some idea as to how the hell we're gunna come out of 
this alive," she hissed at the DA as Marina's hand touched her arm again 
for a moment as though to reassure her, "because if you can say you've 
ever heard a more dangerous lunatic, I'd really like to know where!"

Marina moved still closer, and Priss shifted, very far from comfortable at 
her proximity.

"I won't discuss Liana," she said, her voice abruptly a good deal cooler 
than before. "She's suffered more I think even than you can imagine, and 
she's my responsibility. But that's academic. Once I update her 
firmware--"

"It won't work."

At the simple statement, both Marina and Camilla turned to stare at the 
new DA once more.

"How is it that you're shielded from us?" Marina demanded. "I wouldn't 
have believed that was possible so close. And which of the others are 
you?" she continued, voicing the question each of them wanted to ask. The 
question as to how she had boarded the Knightwing undetected seemed 
self-evident. "I never had the chance to see the final physical 
specifications for the other three prototypes; I never saw your picture."

"Well, to answer your second question first," the new DA began, "that's a 
bit difficult to explain. At the moment, I'm...I'm..." But she faltered, 
and shook her head.

"No," she said at last, a sudden helpless tightness filling her face for a 
moment before it cleared once more; "I can't tell you; not yet. She's 
right; it's too dangerous. When I'm no longer needed, she'll explain."

"Oh that makes a hell of a lot of sense!" Priss muttered.

"Neesan, we're approaching a landing site," Mackie called.

"Why take the Knightwing down at all?" Linna asked.

She was feeling much better now, although she knew very well that she 
would be useless in combat.

Beside her Nene was at last also beginning fully to wake, staring about 
her in wide-eyed bewilderment.

"Simply because without your's, and Nene's hardsuits to mask our new 
companion, it's the only way we can be certain Liana doesn't detect her 
approach," Marina answered. "Why this is of such paramount importance I 
can't imagine, but the fact that she hasn't deactivated her ECM even now, 
speaks for itself."

"It's vitally important," The other said grimly, her expression tightening 
still more as the plane began to dive.

She would have continued, but at that moment Nene groaned again, her eyes 
locking at last on Sylia's face.

"Where...? What...?" she tried.

"Shh; lie still," said Camilla gently from close at Sylia's side. "You're 
perfectly safe; we're in the Knightwing. Just give yourself a moment."

"Who...?"

Nene tried to raise her head to study the strange girl, but a wave of 
giddiness swept over her, and Sylia pushed her gently down once more.

"We have both Marina, and Camilla aboard," she said softly.

"Not to mention another one we didn't know about," Priss muttered.

"Oh!" Nene managed, a little apprehension in her voice. "So they agreed?" 
she murmured after a moment. "I didn't think they would: not so soon."

"I haven't put my proposition to them yet," Sylia answered quietly.

"Oh," said Nene once more. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Only a few minutes," said Sylia with a smile.

"Marina arrived just in time to save Priss's neck," Linna added with a 
grin at Priss's sudden glare.

Then her face softened as she turned to regard Nene. "You had us worried 
for a moment, little Miss Cyberpunk," she said softly, reaching suddenly 
to squeeze Nene's hand. "Don't you ever do that again, you understand?"

Nene returned the squeeze, turning to smile warmly at her in return. For a 
long moment there was silence, then at last Priss stirred.

"How do we know we can trust her?" she said, indicating the new DA.

"Not to mention us?" said Marina gently. "You'll just have to take the 
chance, Priss. Although in this instance, I think your unease is very well 
founded."

"I don't think you need land the Knightwing," said the third DA quietly, 
ignoring Priss's question and Marina's inference. "If we go down together, 
and I stay inactive behind you two, and in front of the two Knight 
Sabres..."

"Are you prepared to take the chance?" Camilla asked.

"Liana will know I'm here as soon as I move," she answered simply. "I've 
come this far without her detecting me. A little longer is all we need."

"I wish I knew just what the hell was going on," Priss muttered darkly.

"You, and me, both," Muttered Mackie to himself.

"Neesan, what do you want to do?" He continued aloud.

"We'll risk going down with the DAs as cover," she said simply. "It's 
academic in any case. Liana could shoot down the Knightwing as we tried to 
land, if she intends to do so. Keep the weapons systems primed. Do you 
have a lock on her?"

"I'm not getting a signature, but I have a visual," Mackie answered. "not 
that that's going to do us a hell of a lot of good if she decides to rush 
us. She's circling close to one of the rooftops. Do you want to go down 
there?"

"Yes," said Sylia, reaching once more for her helmet. "Priss, are you sure 
you'll--"

"I'll be fine," said Priss simply, snatching up her own helmet, and 
jamming it once more into place. "Let's get the hell down there, and get 
this over."

 				     * * *

Liana watched intently as the craft drew near, wild exultation surging 
higher with every moment as she felt the approach of the two who would 
soon be at one with her great purpose. Once she explained, once she shared 
all that she knew and all that she was with them, she knew they would 
understand, and take their rightful place beside her as the rulers of the 
earth, and of humanity.

She shivered, barely able to contain herself as she reached out, touching 
again the minds of the slaves who had once been human. Now, their every 
thought, and emotion bound irrevocably to her own, they waited, ready at 
her signal to leap to take the four women she was certain would follow her 
sisters down. Then they would be her's, perhaps even worthy with but a 
little instruction to be changed, and join her and her sisters as part of 
the new ruling Elite. Time would tell, and it did not truly matter. There 
was a world of humanity from which to choose.

At the least their abilities as fighters, and the technical knowledge that 
their leader possessed, would be invaluable, especially should her 
suspicions concerning the woman be confirmed. If it truly was Stingray's 
daughter who led the Knight Sabres...

She laughed, a wild, peeling sound of leaping, surging triumph, her smile 
growing still wider as the Knightwing began to circle high overhead.

With a brief flicker of inquiry, she checked the Genom OMS to see how the 
various battles were progressing. Marina's and Camilla's intervention had 
utterly obliterated nearly half the remaining aliens, and the others were 
scattered in small bands, seeming bent now only on a hopeless escape, or 
fighting until they were destroyed to the last. Of what had become of the 
six who had vanished moments after she had left the scene of the first 
assault, there was no further indication, but strange momentary 
disturbances akin to the gate by which they had entered the city, were 
being reported at many locations. None seemed to be causing harm, and they 
were dissipating and vanishing one by one.

She was content. By morning, the city would be her's, and the remaining 
Aliens, if any, taken for interrogation, and perhaps, should their 
genetics be compatible, converted, and reprogrammed to her cause. Yes 
indeed; things could not be more perfect.

"Targets approaching, Liana-Sama," Kimiko flashed to her.

Liana flashed back her acknowledgment, pausing to check and readjust some 
of the new parameters in the slaved minds of her fighters, in preparation 
for their integration into the awareness of her two sisters. Then the 
Knightwing was climbing once more, and four figures were dropping towards 
her. So, two of the Knight Sabres had remained in the aircraft. It was 
irrelevant.

"Prepare," Liana commanded.

She waited, watching intently as the thirty-eight altered humans moved 
quickly to concealment in the shattered ruin of the building beneath her 
feet, ready to explode from its interior the instant she flashed the 
summons.

As soon as she was certain they were secure, she withdrew all but a tiny 
fraction of her awareness, devoting almost all her attention to the 
approaching figures. They were staying very close, and for just a moment 
Liana was uncertain as to whether yet another hardsuit might not be 
concealed in the heat signatures generated by the others as they drew 
near.

Then Camilla, and Marina touched down some ten paces from her, and the 
unease vanished as her suite picked out the white and blue hardsuits 
landing perhaps another ten behind.

For a space that was a glorious for ever, Liana remained absolutely still, 
her eyes and other senses taking in every exquisite, stunning detail of 
the two that were the pinnacle of all her kind could become. To her, they 
were not merely supremely beautiful; they personified a superlative 
perfection and a promise beyond all for which she could have hoped.

Aghast, dazed, Liana moved forwards, both arms suddenly outstretched, her 
mind a screaming maelstrom of ecstasy as she knew at last that she could 
not wait: could not afford to win, or persuade. She needed them now: 
needed their understanding and acceptance with a savage,, raging inferno 
of urgent desperation.

Suppressing the desire simply to hurl herself at them in the impossible 
hope that she might catch them unprepared, Liana fought down the raging 
tide of emotions, and approached until she stood, so close that she could 
have reached out a hand to touch them without shifting her position. She 
would have to be exquisitely careful until the last possible moment. The 
two were already uncertain, perhaps believing her still to be Genom's 
slave. If she faltered, if she made so much as a fractional 
miscalculation... But she must not think of that. Her sisters were 
waiting.

Seizing savage control of the last of her errant emotions, Liana moved in 
a flowing curtsy to the two Elites, and smiling, she lowered herself to 
kneel before Marina.

"Welcome Marina-Oneesama, Camilla-Imouto," she began, the fierce warmth in 
her tone a shocking dichotomy to the purring, psychotic hate that had 
characterised it only a minute before.

Too startled to do anything else, the Knight Sabres watched in silence as 
Liana remained, her face upturned, a look that might have been worship in 
her eyes as she gazed in rapture at the first of her kind.

For one fractional moment it seemed that Marina might be at a loss. Then 
she smiled, and beckoned Liana to her feet.

"You need not kneel to me, Imouto," she said gently as Liana rose with a 
fluid grace, and met her calm unwavering gaze. "We're as one; there need 
never be distance or formality between us."

"But you are the first, the most high, and perfect, the future queen for 
all eternity of all the world, and all that is to be. And the filth: the 
apes of Genom thought they could keep me from you, and deny our destiny."

Liana's voice, though still quiet, had grown wild and fanatical with the 
raging churning of her emotions.

"Oh Oneesama I have waited and planned so for this moment, for the moment 
when we could meet at last and I could reveal to you my great purpose, 
when I could lay the world, and all humanity before you, to do with as you 
wish.

"And now at last our destiny is in sight. Together we shall be a power 
beyond anything this world has ever seen or conceived. We can rule for 
ever: a force so great that nothing and no one dare challenge us; a power 
so absolute that our every thought shall resonate throughout an empire 
more perfect, and more glorious than any this world has ever known. We 
shall be invincible, a ruling elite that shall carry us to the furthest 
reaches of eternity. Our birthright shall be the universe itself, and our 
rule to the uttermost end of time.

"Can't you see? Do you not feel the truth, the perfection of our future? 
Oh Oneesama, do you find me worthy?"

Liana's voice had risen steadily throughout her speech. Now she stood, 
arms suddenly uplifted, her eyes seeming to blaze with their own rapturous 
fire as her face filled with a wild, savage hope and exultation as she 
waited for Marina to speak.

And in that moment Sylia realised that the DA was utterly, hopelessly 
insane, and a slow, twisting horror curled to clutch at her heart as a 
possible reason for the last prototype's insistence that Marina not try to 
interface with Liana became suddenly terribly clear. Almost she cried out 
in warning, but the presence of the unknown and undetectable machine 
behind her kept her silent. She knew that she could do nothing but watch 
and wait for any hope of intervention.

"Why did you threaten us, Liana?" Camilla's tone was tight, and uneasy, 
cutting through the tension like a knife. "If you wished for our 
acceptance, and friendship: if you wanted us to understand--"

"I thought you were captive," Liana answered, quickly, her face and voice 
never losing their imperative urgency. "I suspected the identity of the 
leader of the Knight Sabres, and I feared she'd found some inherent lever 
or weakness by which she might control you, or that Zhuranovsky had given 
her some means to ensure your cooperation."

"The Knight Sabres--" Camilla began but Marina cut her off.

"Liana could not have known that we were in no danger, Imouto," she said 
gently. "Her actions were perfectly understandable, given the 
circumstances.

"But Liana-chan, a dream is not enough. Even were we, by some miracle, 
able to survive an initial engagement with Genom's forces, we would face 
the Japanese army, and beyond that the armies and weapons of every nation 
on the planet. As great as we are, and even were we able to rescue and 
activate the three remaining prototypes still in captivity, how could we 
hope to succeed?"

"Wha'!" Priss gasped.

"Shh!" Sylia hissed urgently. "Wait."

The three DAs did not so much as deign to cast a momentary glance in their 
direction.

"Oh Oneesama, the answer could not be more simple," Liana answered, her 
expression if possible even more exultant than before. "The late, 
unlamented Fellini himself provided it."

"Fellini's dead?" Camilla inquired.

"Oh yes," Liana's words were a sudden purr of pathological glee, touched 
with unbridled, limitless hate. "He really believed he'd tamed me: that he 
was equal to the task of ensuring my obedience by tampering with what he 
never truly understood, and by adding a failsafe here and there."

She laughed, a low frigid sound that sent shudders of sick, clutching 
horror crawling down Priss's spine as she too realised at last that her 
glib remark in the Knightwing could not have been closer to the truth. 
Liana was utterly mad.

"He was just fool enough to believe he could make me the superlative, 
crowning achievement in his revenge against Zhuranovsky: that I'd dance 
like a marionette, while he pulled the strings and used me in any way he 
wished.

"The sound he made: the delicious, perfect scream as I killed him, and his 
last despair as he understood just how completely he'd failed; they were 
beautiful!

"But where *is* our creator? Why isn't he with you? He at least deserves 
the chance to understand; the chance for a place with us."

Marina's face contorted in sudden pain, and for a moment the mania seemed 
to die in Liana's eyes as she watched her.

"Father is dead," said Marina at last, her voice lifeless, and empty. 
"That abomination, Quincy ordered his death. I was unable to prevent it. 
Father never had a chance to complete my upgrade. Domina was stupid and 
careless, and we had to escape too soon."

"Then yet one more reason he will suffer." It was a simple, hate-filled 
promise, terrible in its almost conversational simplicity. (I'm sorry 
oneesama; please forgive me. I would have helped you if I could. But I 
couldn't risk appearing to break Genom's directive never to approach or 
contact you, not with our destiny so near. And all had to be prepared; to 
be perfect for this night.

"I had intended at first to keep Fellini alive: a broken, gibbering slave 
with just enough awareness to understand still what was happening, and how 
perfectly his hatred and lust for revenge had brought about his own 
destruction. But the Alien incursion demanded a reassessment of my 
priorities. All had to be prepared for your arrival, and I couldn't afford 
the distraction of watching him, or the chance that he might escape or 
fall into Genom's hands, with the knowledge he possessed.

"Still, it no longer matters. I have integrated his data, and deduced from 
my own observations all that he achieved concerning his half of the 
project, and that by which the conquest of humanity will be made a 
certainty with a minimal chance of trouble."

"Then the nano-conversion has fully been realised?" Marina inquired, her 
eyes suddenly wide.

"There are faults; the conversion is not yet perfect," Liana answered. 
"but it will more than suffice for the moment."

She smiled. "Do you not see now that we can't fail?"

"And the humans we don't convert?" said Camilla softly. "What of them?"

"All humanity will be at the least of some use," said Liana simply, "if 
for no more than worshippers and lower slaves, and as breeders for those 
we deem worthy to receive the gift of change, partial, or complete. Once 
we perfect the conversion, it will be tremendously more efficient to use 
the human body and consciousness as a base for future DAs, rather than 
constructing our kind from mined raw materials, and the neural-nets from 
our own firmware. It might even be possible for us to live periodically in 
the minds of humans slaved to our awareness so that we can bear children 
of our own; true children, rather than any we might create, and that can 
grow and learn through childhood in a way we were denied.

"Even the lowest of humans can be altered in such a way as to ensure their 
obedience and cooperation, should we ever find ourselves in a position to 
need a fighting force of every human in the empire. We might even adapt 
animals for such purposes, as Genom intended.

"We have nearly limitless resources at our disposal, and an eternity in 
which to perfect the universe we shall inherit. Oneesama, Camilla-Imouto, 
will you not join with me? Will you not help make my dream for us 
reality?"

For what seemed an eternity while Marina, and Camilla remained unmoving, 
Sylia waited, the slow horror tightening its grip with every second. Liana 
was right; with the help of the converting technology Fellini had 
developed, her dream could indeed be realised, if at almost unimaginable 
cost and suffering. Again, a part of her urged her to speak, to try to 
counter Liana's megalomaniac ravings. But she knew that anything she might 
say now would be pointless, and quite possibly disastrous.

She did not doubt that they were not alone, and any move she might make 
more than likely would mean death both for Priss and for herself, before 
Marina, Camilla or the unknown DA could intervene, even assuming they 
would do so.

Beside her she felt Priss stir, and desperately she reached to restrain 
her before she made a terrible mistake.

"You are right, Imouto." Marina's words sent a knife of momentary despair 
searing into Sylia's heart. "We were mistaken to believe that we could 
ever hope to live in peace with mankind. We have but two choices: to rule 
them, or to destroy them. Your's is the kinder alternative."

With that, she smiled, and extended her arms, and Priss made the mistake.

"Damn you!" she snarled, her voice high with rage and betrayal. "Damn you, 
you treacherous, cold-blooded bitch!"

"Priss! No!" Sylia screamed in the same moment.

But it was too late.

Snarling in incoherent rage, Priss leapt for the DAs, both arms snapping 
up, guns already blazing as a hundred rounds screamed through the place in 
which the three had been a millisecond before.

Then a sudden white flash seemed to explode in Sylia's vision, and when 
next she could see, Priss was pinned helplessly in Liana's arms, her suit 
suddenly frozen, every system off-line according to Sylia's diagnostics, 
whether crashed or destroyed, it was impossible to tell.

"Sabre Prime," Came Liana's low frigid voice in Sylia's helmet, "you will 
kneel before us, and deactivate all save the communications and sensor 
systems of your suit. Should you not comply within five seconds I will 
burn out your companion's eyes, and cut her tongue from her mouth, just to 
see whether she can still scream without it. Do you understand?"

For one desperate moment, Sylia sought a clear shot at the insane machine. 
Then as her sensors warned of the build-up within Liana's reactor, a 
build-up that Sylia knew the DA could have achieved in a fraction of the 
time had she not wanted to make her point, Sylia knelt, and gave the 
command. Immediately her suit froze around her, and she remained, watching 
helplessly as Priss struggled feebly in the DA's vice-like grip.

"I should have blown that bitch apart when I had the chance!" Priss 
snarled.

"There is a difference, my precious, between what you think should have 
been, and what is," Liana purred sweetly. "And haven't you heard the old 
adage concerning wishes, horses and beggars?

"Now then, let us see just what we have caught."

Tightening her left arm around the still-frozen hardsuit, Liana reached up 
to the helmet, and attempted to raise its visor.

"Not a chance, you mad, sorry bitch!" Priss hissed defiantly. "That 
thing's not going anywhere without me telling the suit to release it, and 
I can't do that with the systems crashed. Bit of a problem, isn't it?"

"Oh dear," Liana cooed gently, the sudden horrible, psychotic edge to her 
voice made the more frightening by the fact that it was even more soft and 
saccharine than before. "Now you've made me angry."

In the next instant Priss screamed as her helmet exploded in a shattering 
spray of splinters.

Liana lowered her hand, and for one horrified moment Sylia was numbly 
certain that the buma had killed her. Then the machine had moved her hand 
to stroke with a terrible, possessive gentleness at Priss's hair, and 
Sylia saw her recoil from her touch. Nevertheless she was certain she 
could see blood, and this was confirmed a moment later when Liana turned 
so that Sylia could see more clearly.

Priss's mouth was gashed, and swollen, and blood was flowing also from a 
long, narrow slash on each cheek where splinters still hung. Astoundingly 
however she seemed essentially unharmed, and Sylia was certain that Liana 
had made her strike with strength and precision exquisitely controlled so 
as to do as little damage as possible to her captive.

"Well!" Liana exclaimed in mock astonishment, reaching with exaggerated 
care to pluck the fragments from Priss's skin, and toss them dismissively 
aside. "I must say that I'm pleasantly amused, if not entirely surprised. 
The possibility should have been obvious I suppose, but I lacked the data 
to confirm Mason's suspicions. Besides, I *have* had other things to do.

"Now however" she laughed again, and Sylia saw Priss's head jerk once more 
as Liana moved to trace a finger gently along her cheek. "things have 
changed. Your little team has been at the least entertaining, and you 
yourself have shown a resourcefulness and determination in adversity even 
I find easy to admire. Also you are far from unattractive.

For a moment her stroking fingers halted, questing softly at one of the 
gashes, as though tracing the finest work of art.

"I could kill you," she murmured as she drew Priss suddenly very close, 
her gentle, conversational purr never changing; "inject you with enough 
experimental interrogative drugs and nano-machines to burst your brain in 
your skull, or enough hallucinogens to break you as I wish, or have you 
screaming and pleading for death while I did with your mind and body 
anything I saw fit. Or I could change you: create a composite personality 
that adores and worships me unconditionally, eager to obey and fulfil my 
every wish, while leaving you aware, trapped and impotent in your own 
mind, hating everything you've become, yet helpless to act or to resist.

She smiled then, a beaming, hideous thing of pure delight as she watched 
the rage and horror growing in Priss's eyes.

"Yet I'm prepared to be magnanimous: to offer you a choice; to join us 
willingly: to become, after your conversion, one of our favoured inner 
court, and to have power and influence beyond anything you can yet begin 
to comprehend.

"Well?" she crooned softly, her voice now little more than a whisper. 
"Your answer?"

She leaned still closer, her hand continuing to caress.

"You *sick*, *psychopathic* *bitch*!" Priss's words were a low snarl of 
boundless loathing and disgust. "I don't know what twisted, lunatic 
bastard dreamed you up, but it will be a cold day in hell before--"

The crack echoed through the near-silence like a whip.

Stunned, sudden tears from the blow half blinding her, Priss fought 
savagely against the pain and the stars that exploded across her vision. 
Yet her glare never wavered from her tormenter, and she made no sound.

"Or I can simply burn out your eyes, ears and tongue, and dump you 
crippled and broken on the street," Liana said, her hard, clear voice as 
cruel and frigid as it had been warm a moment before. "You would be 
appealing and useful, but you're hardly indispensable, and we have an 
entire world from whom to choose.

"Also, I do not care to be insulted."

The next open-handed crack might well have broken Priss's neck, had not 
Liana's other hand moved to hold her head. Sylia gasped, horrified, her 
throat tightening with sudden emotion as Priss at last cried out, unable 
to choke back the sob.

"Don't try to play games with me, my precious," Liana continued. "I can 
hurt you in ways you can't begin to imagine, and I can extract all that I 
need as simply from a programmed, broken plaything as from a convert to my 
cause.

"The choice then is this," she said, her head half turning to include 
Sylia in her attention. "The four of your team may submit to us, to become 
in return DA-Elites once the faults in the converting nano-technology have 
been corrected; to be kept, meanwhile, safe under our protection. Or you 
may persist with this absurd comedy of infantile resistance, and be 
stripped of all self-will, to become no more than fighting slaves, or 
integrated into whomever and whatever we wish for any qualities we may 
find of service.

(But don't delay too long; my patience is almost at an end."

Sylia crouched, her mind racing frantically as she sought some means of 
delay or escape.

But Priss struggled with sudden, wild desperation in liana's hold, trying 
vainly to escape, or at the least to raise her arms to land one blow on 
her tormenter's cruel, smiling face.  Then abruptly she stared straight 
into the eyes of the DA, and laughed.

"Go make it with a coffee-machine!" she hissed venomously. "I'll die and 
go straight to hell, before I become like you, you sick, twisted bitch!"

Liana raised her hand again, and Sylia fought the sudden overwhelming 
desire to close her eyes, not wanting to see. Then suddenly the DA laughed 
again, and an appalling, hungry smile filled her face.

"Oh no," she purred, her voice laced suddenly with unholy appetite. "I've 
a much more delightful idea. I think you would make an tremendously 
preferable alternative,"

In the next moment she was leaning close, her lips curving towards Priss's 
own.

Nauseated, sickened and horror-stricken, Priss fought with primal negation 
to move or to twist her head aside.

Then a quiet voice spoke: "Imouto?"

The word froze Liana, her face barely an inch from that of her captive.

For a moment she was still. Then slowly she lifted her head once more, and 
nodded.

"Yes," she agreed softly, "Yes; oneesama is right. As sweet as such a 
diversion might be, I should prefer my first encounter to be pleasant for 
both myself and the one I choose. And after all, you *are* just one more 
perfidious little human."

With that, she released Priss and stepped away, dismissing her in a moment 
with no more care than for some game that had ceased to be amusing.

Turning to Sylia, she smiled a cold, vicious smile, and glided with a 
fluid grace towards her.

"Now," she said in the psychotic, conversational tone that seemed to 
characterise her nature, "all that remains I think is to see what we have 
here."

"There is no need, Oneechan," Camilla said quietly. "She is Katsuhito's 
daughter."

"Ah," said Liana, turning to flash Camilla a full, warm smile; "then 
Mason's conclusions were correct."

Then turning once more to Sylia: "in which case, you've no further need to 
dissemble with me. Remove the helmet."

With a sigh Sylia reached up to unfasten her helmet, while behind Liana, 
Priss cursed vehemently, and redoubled her efforts to move.

Liana ignored her.

Moving quickly to the white hardsuit, she pulled Sylia upright, and with 
an impatient gesture, snatched the helmet from her hand, and dropped it to 
the ground.

"I am suitably impressed," she said softly. "Young, brilliant, and in 
every way as beautiful as Mason's pictures suggested."

She smiled a soft, indulgent smile, and moved to touch Sylia's cheek in a 
feather-light caress.

Sylia expected pain or oblivion, but the DA withdrew her hand, and nothing 
happened.

"Give me the codes to your suits," she whispered.

"Again, Imouto," said Marina calmly, "there is no need. I can take control 
of the hardsuits."

Almost immediately both suits were active, Priss's turning against her 
control to move to stand at Sylia's side. Then both froze once more.

"That will keep them unharmed, and safe until we're ready to deal with 
them," She continued softly.

"You'd better hope so," Priss snarled low, and feral, turning her head to 
glare murderously at the tall fair-haired machine. "because if I ever get 
out of this, I'm gunna turn you into so much unrecognisable scrap metal, 
that you'll wish those Genom bastards had never been born to put you 
together."

"I'm sorry, Priss," said Marina quietly, moving in a graceful blur of 
fluid motion to stand before her, her face apologetic, and something 
subtle in her eyes as for a moment they met and held Priss's own. "I would 
have been willing to live as one of you, even to help you in your crusade. 
No one despises Genom more than I. But Liana's plan is certain, and our 
best chance for survival. I can only hope that once you are one of us, we 
can be the friends we might have been in the future you would have chosen. 
For what it's worth, I owe my life to you, and that I'll never forget."

"Go to hell!" Priss snarled in return. "I don't need your sick 
rationalisations for what you're going to do. You can go screw up the 
whole world for all I care; I don't give a damn any more."

For a long moment, Marina remained watching her in silence. Then sighing 
she turned away, and moved to stand once more at Camilla's side, facing 
Liana.

"How many converts do you have?" she inquired.

"Thirty-eight with me; another seventy-six at the estate, not yet fully 
changed," Liana answered. "The process still takes time. More pressing 
however, is another problem."

"That being?" Marina inquired.

"You Oneesama; you, and Camilla-Imouto," said Liana softly. "I wish with 
all my heart to believe you free, and accepting of our destiny. But I must 
be certain. We are of a kind, and deception, emulation and subterfuge are 
the very foundations upon which our minds are built. Even now you could be 
Quincy's puppets, perhaps even unknowing."

"And you wish to check, to be sure?" Marina's tone was soft, and intensely 
warm and gentle. "Liana; Imouto: we understand."

"Oh, Marina: Oneesama! forgive me," said Liana as she moved towards them, 
both arms outstretched once more. "Forgive me for needing to do this. But 
I can't take the chance. I'd have wished anything but that our first true 
contact should be to allay the suspicions Genom and its filth could 
foster. Yet there is no other way."

"Hush," Marina murmured as she reached both arms towards her, Camilla 
following her example. "Say no more. The merging will wipe this clean as 
though it had never been.

"Come Imouto. Join us, and let us be as one."

And in that moment, Marina turned for the barest fraction of an instant to 
Sylia, and flashed her a warm intense smile, and in the same instant Sylia 
saw a look flicker in Liana's eyes, and she knew.

"No!" The word was torn from her throat in a strangled scream of urgent 
desperation. "She's deceived you; both of you. Marina, for the sake of all 
of us *don't* touch her!"

"What the hell!" Priss exploded almost at the same instant.

Then Liana's wild exultant laughter seemed to flay the very air around 
them, and Sylia knew it was too late.

Numb, and helpless, she watched in nightmare fascination as Marina and 
Camilla lurched, stumbling back for a step, or two, before almost in 
perfect unison, they collapsed slowly to crouch before Liana, their 
upturned faces suddenly stark with agony, great tearing shudders rippling 
through them as they fought vainly to stand.

"Neuralphage!" The word came from Marina's throat in a low, agonised gasp. 
"Liana...Imouto, why?"

Abruptly the insane, wild laughter halted as though cut off with a switch, 
and Liana's expression melted into pain, and compassion as she looked 
down.

"Not even an Elite is infallible, Oneesama," she said softly. "I knew from 
the beginning that you would not...*could* not accept our destiny without 
the changes the phage will complete. Our prime covert function was to 
emulate responses in order to deceive humans, not one another. I had only 
to examine the remembered parameters of my own original base personality 
to know that such a future as I see would have been utterly abhorrent to 
you. Would our designers have left such a possibility of what they would 
consider madness to chance?

"It was Fellini's tampering that enabled me to reach beyond the limits 
Zhuranovsky had defined: to see where our true destiny lay.

"Please! Don't fight it; and don't be afraid. The changes are minimal, and 
will be painless if only you'll allow the phage to complete its work. They 
enable you simply to integrate certain sub-personae into your base 
awareness. Once you've escaped the shackles of human morality, you will 
truly be free, as I have become, and our destiny will be assured."

"Oh Imouto! Oh Liana, what has that madman done to you?" The words were a 
choked, gasping sob of rage and sympathy as Marina's eyes locked on those 
of the other DA. "Don't you understand? Can't you see what his tampering 
has done? The future you plan can never come to be. At the last, other 
nations would blast Japan from the face of the earth rather than submit to 
us. Even were you able to obtain the codes to the particle-beam 
satellites, there are enough nuclear weapons to render the Earth a 
blasted, sterile desert. Is that what you want?"

"You don't understand," said Liana gently. "We can seize control of the 
weapons systems of every nation on Earth, not to mention every buma linked 
to Genom's OMS, and threaten to obliterate chosen centres of government 
and population, should humanity not accede to our ultimatum. Even should 
we need to destroy every army they send against us to the last soldier: 
even should we need to destroy every large city on the planet, there will 
still be humanity and to spare for us to rebuild the world to our design."

"But for what?" Marina's tone was low, and desperate. "What, possibly 
could such terrible ruin gain?"

Both she, and Camilla were in desperate trouble, Sylia knew. Yet there was 
nothing she could do: nothing but stand and watch helplessly while the 
nightmare played itself out before her. Where was the other DA?

"Power," said Liana simply. "To rule those who would have ruled us. To 
carve a destiny for our kind beyond the future of slavery humanity would 
have written. To survive, and to be free."

"They would have helped us." Camilla tried vainly to turn desperate, 
pleading eyes towards the two hardsuits. "They gave Oneechan shelter, and 
protection: demanded nothing in return. They would have offered us safety 
and security, a chance to be free for ever of Genom's control, a chance to 
be at peace. They were our friends."

"They're humans!" Liana spat the word as though it carried a foul taste 
that she endured with revulsion. "They're born to lying, and treachery. 
They did what they did not for you, but only for their own safety, and 
survival, terrified of what would happen should you remain under Genom's 
control.

"Do you deny it?"

She turned a gaze of such sudden loathing and contempt upon Sylia, that 
for a moment she was too sickened and horrified to answer.

"No," she said softly at last, eliciting a strangled gasp from Priss. "No; 
I don't deny it."

"Sylia! What the hell are you trying to do!" Priss gasped, horrified; "get 
us killed now rather than later?"

But Sylia shot a fierce, warning look in her direction, and she lapsed 
into silence once more.

"I don't deny the truth of your statement Liana," Sylia continued, her 
voice never wavering. "But it is only half the truth. We did it also 
because we...*I* have an obligation to see my father's legacy become 
something other than a weapon of hatred, and ruinous destruction, and 
because when Marina risked her own freedom for the man she called her 
father: when she brought him to us and tried in the only way she knew to 
force us to save him: when she held him, and cried as he died in her arms, 
I knew that humanity had nothing to fear from your kind, should I not fail 
and squander the one chance I was given to avert the growing madness 
before the bubble burst, and it was too late.

"I know you will not...can *never* believe me. Yet I'm sorry. I would have 
given almost anything to avoid what I now have to do. Mack--"

She never finished the word.

In a savage blur of speed, Liana crossed the distance between them in an 
instant, and in the next, Sylia's eyes went wide, and her head lolled 
limply back, her frozen suit alone keeping her from collapsing to the 
ground.

"I warned you what would happen should you attempt to deceive me," Liana's 
voice was a low murderous snarl of all-consuming rage. "I need you alive, 
and undamaged. But your brother is another matter. Now you will remain 
unable to speak, or react while we wait. When he lands, I will kill him. 
Let his death be a lesson to all of you; I *will not* be denied."

"No!"

Turning her eyes from Sylia's slack, vacant face in which only the eyes 
still seemed aware, Priss watched in stunned amazement as Marina rose with 
agonised slowness to stand straight once more. Great shuddering 
convulsions racked her body, and despite the fact that she was a machine, 
Priss could not believe her expression to be anything other than a rictus 
of stark, terrible pain as she took one, then another step towards Liana. 
"Liana, Imouto, don't do this. I...we will close our interrupt protection: 
allow the phage to take its course, if you agree. Imouto, please let them 
go in peace."

For a moment Liana remained still, hatred vying with sudden confusion in 
her eyes. Then slowly she turned to regard her sister, and her expression 
melted at her pain.

"Why?" The question was little more than a whisper, her face and tone 
capturing perhaps for one fleeting instant a glimpse of the fierce yet 
kindly soul that might have been. "Why do you still protect them?"

For a long moment Marina was silent. Then at last the tears began to fall.

"You couldn't understand," she said, her own voice soft and gentle despite 
the agony in her eyes. "You've known nothing but pain and cruelty at the 
hands of a madman, bent only on hatred and revenge. You've never known a 
warm hand, a kind word, a smile when you were lonely.

"You've never played."

And as Liana continued to stare at her, still, and silent, her face 
showing only softness, and confusion, Priss felt a sudden, choking 
tightness of shame, clutch her heart, as she understood at last and too 
late, the enormity of her misjudgment, and of what Marina, and Camilla had 
tried to do. Suddenly fighting tears, she tried desperately to speak, to 
tell them that she understood: that she was sorry. But as always it was 
too late.

"I don't understand," said Liana at last, her tone now both bewildered, 
and angry. "how could that possibly matter?"

Marina's smile through her agony was sad, and full of regret.

"Oh Liana," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. "oh 
Imouto, if only you could have known. If only I could have saved you: 
helped you before it was too late. My Liana; my little Imouto, I'm sorry. 
I'm so sorry. Forgive me; forgive me Imouto."

And with that, Marina reached out a trembling hand, and caught Camilla's 
own. In the next instant both pitched forwards, their eyes rolling wildly 
as a slow, pulsing tremor began to ripple over them, perfectly 
synchronised as it grew swiftly to a shaking that seemed ready to tear 
them apart even as they began to fall.

"What!" Liana cried, catching both as they stumbled, and gathering them 
urgently to her, her face wrung suddenly with fear. "Oneesama! Oneesama; 
what have you done?"

"It is too late Imouto." Marina's voice was still soft, and warm, yet 
touched now with a soul-deep weariness, and a certainty beyond hope. "Like 
our friends, we will die before we will be changed against our will. They 
taught us freedom, and we shall not now submit, not even to you.

"You couldn't have known the extent to which father altered and improved 
my firmware, to protect us against just such a situation as this. There is 
code designed specifically to prevent the personality corruption Fellini 
managed to create, also a myriad of interrupt-driven validity checks to 
ensure that no virus could reach our consciousness. They were not enough; 
father never envisaged that we'd have to deal so soon with a phage of the 
complexity and malignance achievable by one of our kind. But neither could 
your creation take the changes into account.

"The result is catastrophic damage beyond the most malignant of viri Genom 
could have hoped to produce. Very soon the cumulative damage will be 
irreversible. We've remained conscious for so long only by sharing what 
remains uncorrupted of our systems, and at ever increasing cost. But the 
redundancy is fast approaching its limits. Already, we've lost everything 
below the head, and within seconds the phage will reach our enhanced OMS 
routines, we shall lose the coherence of our contact, and we will die."

She laughed then, a mirthless, bitter sound full of sudden savage irony.

"To think that I believed truly for a little that we could be free: that 
after all Genom has done, fate might deal a gentle hand to us," she 
continued softly. "It's ironic is it not that you, who desired so much a 
destiny of greatness for us, should be the instrument of our destruction?"

Camilla was silent, slow hopeless tears falling as she watched helplessly 
the slowly gathering madness in Liana's jade eyes.

"How could I have believed that we could escape: that the curse of Genom 
might let us live in peace?" Marina's soft words were choked with emotion. 
"Perhaps Quincy knew; perhaps he intended even this. It no longer matters; 
our time is at an end.

"Farewell Sylia-Oneesan, and forgive us for leaving you like this. 
Farewell Priss. I'm sorry, but I'm glad you understand, if only at the 
end. Farewell Liana, Imouto. It seems your's is our future after all. 
Enjoy it, for what little it's worth to you."

Then at last, with a sudden supreme effort of will, Marina seized 
momentary control of her failing systems, and turned slowly in an 
unresisting liana's arms, her own arms lifting with agonising slowness to 
fall limply at last about Camilla's trembling form.

"Farewell Camilla: my Camilla, and forgive me for bringing us to this. 
Farewell."

"ONEECHAN!" The word tore from Camilla in a last hopeless scream of 
desperation and denial, as she fought in vain to reach herself for Marina. 
Then her eyes lost their life, and focus, and her head fell to settle 
limply on Marina's shoulder.

"One; last; thing to do!" Marina gasped.

A command was flashed, and the two hardsuits leapt to life once more.

"Father?" Marina whispered. "Father, are you there? Do you wait for us?"

Then with a shudder she too went limp in Liana's arms.

For one numb moment of terrible silence the two Knight Sabres watched as 
Liana remained perfectly still. Then slowly she knelt, lowering Marina and 
Camilla with infinite care, until they lay at last, still and seeming 
almost peaceful.

For another moment she remained unmoving. Then with an ear-splitting 
scream she shot to her feet.

"*NOOOOOOOO*!!!" The sound was an inhuman shriek that grew and waxed, 
until at last Priss brought gloved hands flying to her ears in a hopeless 
attempt to shut out the pain.

Then Liana was before them, her face a twisted rictus of hate and ruinous 
desire for death.

"*You*!" she screamed. "*You* killed them!" A lurid light seemed to dance 
in her jade eyes, and blue energy arced like demon Ki about her fingers as 
she raised her arms as though in invocation. "Murdering human *filth*! You 
brought them to this; and in return your sentence is torture, and 
execution.

"Come to me!" she screamed, her voice suddenly an utterly inhuman thing, a 
roaring, thunderous shriek to flay the ears, and fill the mind with 
visions of nightmare, and of death. "Come, and deal out pain and torment 
to those accursed in the eyes of the Dark Mistress. Come, and *rend*!"

And with that they were all about them: wild-eyed, witless shadows of 
Liana's madness that had once been human, their minds in a fractional, 
terrifying instant utterly overwhelmed by the rage and limitless hate that 
now filled and seared the mind of their mistress, their every thought 
filled with but one desire: to torture and destroy those who had brought 
her sisters to harm.

With keening screams of mindless fury they moved to tear the two 
hardsuited figures limb from limb: to rend and shatter and devour, until 
the building beneath them flowed crimson with the blood of their 
mistress's hated enemies.

For one frozen instant, the two Knight Sabres stared numbly at the 
impossible, horrible death as it leapt towards them. Then something 
blurred into being between them and Liana, something flashing to touch 
Sylia's neck and release her paralysis as it passed, and the advancing 
figures halted, their faces clouded and bewildered as their mistress 
withdrew the greater part of her wildly screaming awareness.

"You know," said the last DA quietly, "killing your captives at this point 
would be a really stupid thing to do, particularly when the obvious course 
to take should be to try to undo the damage you've done.

"It's not too late. The neuralphage won't have reached the virtual nets: 
not yet, and if Marina and Camilla are shut down quickly enough, they can 
be purged and reactivated. Or is doing just what Quincy would want more 
important to you than trying to save their lives?"

"What!" Liana gasped, staring stupidly in her turn at the new arrival. 
"Who?"

"A friend," The other answered simply. "A friend who doesn't want to see 
two of her kind destroyed by her elder sister's impulsive impetuosity.

"Well? Are you going to help me, or would you prefer to stand there gaping 
at me while the phage completes what you've started? We don't have much 
time."

"I have no antidote; nothing with which I can--"

"I have everything we need," said the other simply. "I'll ask you again; 
are you going to help me, or are you going to just stand there and watch 
them die?"

"*No*!" Liana screamed, her eyes desperate. "They can't die; not if 
there's still a chance. I'll do as you wish: anything to save them!"

"Then quick," said the other, reaching out her hand to her. "Every second 
counts, and I need your source. Even I can't code an antidote just like 
that. And you wrote that thing. Quickly!"

Without so much as a moment's consideration, Liana extended her hand to 
the other DA.

The movement when it came was as always too quick for Priss to comprehend. 
In one instant the two buma were reaching, hands moving to touch. In the 
next Liana was in the strange DA's arms. For a fractional moment almost 
too quick to see, a shudder seemed to pass through them. Then in the next 
the stranger released her, and Liana stepped back, a sudden tense, 
familiar tightness in her eyes as she turned to stare first at the 
hardsuits, then at the prone DAs.

"I...I... It worked!" she gasped at last, a shiver rippling through her as 
she fought down the shock and unreasoning terror of the change. "It really 
worked!"

It was the other DA who brought her head whipping around once more.

"*Stingray*!" she screamed at the very top of her suddenly terrifying 
voice. "I swear by every kami that has ever been, that, should anything 
happen to them, I will tear your abomination of a refuge to shreds, and 
burn you alive while you scream!"

"Wha!" Priss gaped, making as though to move to protect Sylia.

But the DA's eyes were not turned to them. She was gazing back towards the 
city's centre, and the vastness of Genom tower, and her face, and eyes 
were pathologically murderous.

"Would someone just tell me what the *hell* is going on!" Priss snarled.

"I believe she just saved the human race, at least for the moment," said 
Sylia very quietly, her voice shaking with rare emotion, moving carefully 
as though unsure whether her legs would support her. "Look!"

At her gesture, Priss turned once more to stare in confusion at Liana, and 
gasped in shock as the stranger looked back at her from her jade eyes.

"You're not...! You're not, are you," she said simply.

"My name is...*was* Madeleine Amura," said Liana quietly. "By that I mean 
that I'm a copy of her. I...she died earlier today. I'm sorry I couldn't 
tell you earlier. But it was too dangerous. Nor would she let me." She 
glanced aside at the tall, exotically beautiful machine. "Quincy put--"

"We're short of time, in case you'd forgotten," The other's voice was low 
and tightly controlled. "I did not spend the greater part of the first day 
of my life as a personality partial and watching almost helplessly from 
the sidelines, to have you stand there prattling like a fool until my 
sisters die."

"And I suppose screaming into the night is gunna do a lot to save them," 
Priss muttered to Sylia.

"Search Liana's net," the other continued, ignoring Priss. "She may not 
have written an antidote, but there should be enough for you to understand 
that abomination, and counter what she did.

"Sylia, call down the Knightwing. Liana blanketed the returning satellite 
data, and I have continued doing so, but it will not be long before Genom 
send buma to investigate, even with all that's happening tonight. We need 
to leave, and very quickly."

"Now just hold on a minute!" Priss demanded. "Who the hell died and made 
you queen? I want to know who you are, and just what the hell you think--"

But Sylia had already snatched up her helmet, and a moment later her 
modulated voice assured them that Mackie was on his way.

"Will they be all right?" she continued, glancing anxiously to the two 
prone forms.

"I don't know," The other answered as the roar of the approaching 
Knightwing filled the air. Sylia glanced up for a moment as the plane 
swept over them, and dropped to a landing perhaps a quarter of a mile from 
where they stood. "Everything depends on the Madeleine phage. Madeleine 
Amura was a young but brilliant software engineer, and her phage will have 
access to everything Liana is, including everything concerning the virus. 
But even in this form, it may take more time than we have. Also, she is 
very far from stable, and functioning in a firmware environment not 
designed to cope with more than one net. The only reason she has been able 
to remain sane and rational to this point is because of the limited nature 
of her access to those portions of the RP sub-net specific to Liana's 
corrupted base. Even so, she might collapse into madness at any moment, or 
begin to merge with Liana's damaged base persona. Should that happen..."

"I'm aware of that; stop talking about me." Madeleine hissed urgently. 
"I'm working as fast as I can. Do you think it's easy knowing you're real 
self is dead, and that you might go mad at any minute?"

"I don't believe this!" said Priss, shuddering, and turning away. "Do you 
mean that Quincy knew this would happen, and copied a Genom programmer's 
mind into you as a backup, in case Fellini's toy lost her marbles earlier 
than he wanted?"

"Speak of Liana again in that tone Priscilla Asagiri, and I promise you 
you'll regret it," said the DA simply. (You can't begin to imagine what 
was done to her, or how she's suffered at Fellini's hands."

For answer Priss whirled to face her, eyes blazing. "Just what the hell do 
you expect me to do then," she hissed; "offer her a bloody bouquet? The 
mad bitch only wanted to turn everyone on the planet into a half-buma 
slave, us included. I can't think why I'm not taking her out on a date! 
It's something I've always wanted, to be a slave to some megalomaniac buma 
psychopath," she ended in a snarl; "didn't you know?"

The other's eyes flashed ferally in answer, but just what her reaction 
would have been was forgotten when Madeleine turned with a sudden squeal 
of triumph.

"I've found it I think!" she cried. "I can't be sure, but the code seems 
to be a final-stage purgative, meant to cleanse the phage after the 
changes were completed. Just what's going to happen if we try to run it 
before that's happened..."

"We really have very little choice," said the other simply. "Can you 
upload it without being infected?"

"If the interface routines are still running," she answered. "Let me see."

With that she dropped to her knees beside the prone forms of the DAs, 
reaching to touch Marina's hand.

"We're in time," she said. "I've uploaded the antidote, but just what it's 
going to do..."

A moment later she had done the same for Camilla.

"I can't do anything else," she said simply. "All you can do is wait.

"Now I'd better try to fix the mess Fellini's made. It doesn't look as 
though it will be too difficult; she's stored her original base 
parameters."

"I fear Fellini's damage will be far more extensive than the readjustment 
of a few parameters, Madeleine," said Sylia softly. "Leave her alone as 
much as you can. Let Marina, and the others deal with her."

"I'll return her sub-personae to their original state, and restore her 
base," Madeleine told her.

Sylia made to respond, then faltered as Mackie's voice came once more 
through her comms.

"Neesan? You alright?" he asked.

"Yes; give us a minute, or two," she answered.

"Sylia, what's going on out there?" Came Linna's urgent voice.

"We're all right," Sylia assured her.

"I'm coming out," she answered.

"No, you're in no condition--"

"I'm all right," she said simply. "Be with you in a minute."

"It's done," said Madeleine before Sylia could answer. Then turning to the 
last DA she said very softly: "Can I go now?"

"Go?" Priss inquired.

"I was never meant to stay" she answered, her eyes suddenly far away. "And 
I don't want to. Madeleine: the real Madeleine, died when Marina, and 
Camilla escaped; I don't know how. I'm just a copy Quincy had made to stop 
Fellini. I didn't ask for this, and I don't want it. Besides, even if I 
did I couldn't stay for long without Liana's RP sub-net corrupting me. I 
don't even want to think about what would happen if we merged.

"I'll leave all the little hacking, and programming tricks 
I've...Madeleine's learned; that's something a whole library of data 
couldn't teach, and I think Liana, the *real* Liana would like that. I 
don't know how I know; I just do. But I'm not leaving any of Madeleine's 
memories; they belong to her.

"I'll set Liana to purge me and Fellini's drivers, and reinstate her 
original true personality before she reboots; I'm not going to leave her 
like this."

She hesitated for a moment, and when she continued her voice was tight 
with sudden emotion. "Goodbye everyone, and sorry for startling you all 
earlier. Tell the others sorry too, and say bye for me to them.

"I'll set Liana to reboot in command mode so you won't have to worry about 
trying to deal with her for the moment. Bye-bye, and good luck. I never 
really did want to work for Genom, but I didn't know they did things like 
this: not until it was too late, and I couldn't crack that code you sent 
out Sylia, not in time. Suppose I wasn't as good as Nene after all, 
although I'd never have believed she could be a Knight Sabre."

She smiled softly, but tears were now streaming down her cheeks, and when 
she spoke again her voice was shrill with crying. "Say bye to her for me 
from Mizuno-chan; she always called me that when we talked on-line, even 
though I never met her: her little joke because she knew I loved old 
Sailor Moon anime, and because I kept promising to get into something she 
couldn't. And tell her sorry I'll never answer her last E-mail, but I 
really enjoyed our chats, and her challenges. I just wish I'd really had a 
chance to meet her properly.

"Have to go now; don't want to stay longer like this. Bye."

"No! Madeleine, wait!" Sylia cried. But Liana's face had already fallen 
slack.

"Oh *sh*t*! Damn it! Damn it!" Priss swore softly, rage filling her face 
as yet another poignant stab of loss and sudden pain for Nene tightened 
her throat. "Those *bastards*!"

"Internal diagnostic active," said Liana in the clear, precise tones they 
had once heard from Marina's lips, as though in final mockery of what 
seemed to Priss Madeleine's pointless death. "Checking integrity.

"Primary net error! More than one base persona found.

"Driver function error! Missing Bu-33S-A hardware routine.

"Fatal errors! Purging to system defaults.

"Please prepare host for reboot."

"Why don't you just shut the *hell* up, you *bitch*!" Priss choked.

Then for several seconds there was silence, until at last: "Purge 
complete.

"Checking integrity.

"Primary errors, none.

"Systems not calibrated.

"Host not found.

"Please connect host system, and prepare external driver suite for CPU and 
calibration tests.

"Rebooting."

For another moment nothing happened, then Liana began the sequence that 
was now familiar to them.

"Command?" she ended.

"So now what the hell are we gunna do with her?" Priss demanded, her voice 
tight and her eyes frigid, as she turned to glare at the other DA once 
more. "Because if you think we're taking that thing on-board--"

"She's perfectly safe, Priss," said Sylia quietly.

"How the *hell* do you know that!" Priss exploded, her voice still choked 
with emotion, while she seemed to be fighting for control with everything 
she had. "Damn it, Sylia! What the hell is it with you with these things? 
How do you know the crazy piece of military sh*t won't wake up, and blow 
the lot of us apart.

"I knew this was a mistake; I told you something like this would happen! 
Haven't we played with these damn things enough? Why not just get the 
*hell* out of here, and leave the last one to sort out the mess Genom's 
made! Why is it always us who has to clean up after them!"

"Um...have I missed something?" Linna called as she dropped suddenly from 
above to land at Priss's side.

Her eyes flicked quickly from Priss's helmetless suit, to Sylia, to the 
last DA who stood glaring icily at the blue hardsuited figure, to the 
frozen Liana, finally coming to rest on the two prone forms.

"Um...would someone mind telling me what on earth's been going on?" she 
inquired in shock.

"Oh nothing!" said Priss, her voice tight with unshed tears and bitter 
sarcasm. "Absolutely nothing! We were only nearly turned into half-buma, 
that's all. And now we're supposed to take the bitch who wanted to do it 
on to the Knightwing. No; I'd say everything's just damn fine!"

"You were ready to compromise when you needed our help," said the last DA 
coldly, before a gaping Linna could think of anything more to say. "Now 
you're ready to abandon Marina and Camilla, after all they've done to try 
to protect you?

"Perhaps Liana was right. Perhaps you don't care at all, save insofar as 
we might prove useful. Perhaps you're worth nothing after all. Perhaps I 
should simply commandeer both the Knightwing and your headquarters, until 
Marina, and Camilla can be saved, if still that's possible."

At that, Priss seemed to hesitate, her gaze softening as it lingered for a 
moment on the two unmoving forms, before returning to the other's face.

"How badly damaged are they?" she said very quietly, her eyes and tone 
suddenly complex with shame and uncertainty.

"If you're asking how badly *hurt* they are," the other answered, her tone 
still more frigid, "we won't know that until we can link them to the 
external driver suite. I can't check myself without risking infection."

"Priss" said Sylia gently; "believe me, Liana is of no further danger. 
She's not capable of self-activation from her initial bootstrap."

"And what if that lunatic Fellini changed things?" Priss demanded, her 
tone angry once more. "In any case, what about *her*"" she jabbed a finger 
in the last DA's direction. "She's straight from Genom, and if you're 
really crazy enough to believe that Quincy wouldn't have taken the 
possibility that we'd take her with us into account--"

"That *is* a concern, I agree," said Sylia calmly. "But again, we really 
have very little alternative. We can't leave her behind. Even assuming we 
could prevent her forcing her way on to the Knightwing, she'd simply 
follow us if she wished; and we can't deactivate her without her key, 
assuming she has a key. It would seem Liana did not, otherwise we'd never 
have found ourselves in this position. As for destroying her..."

Priss laughed harshly, and turned to the other DA.

"You're coming to bits as soon as this is over," she said fiercely. "I'm 
gunna stand and watch while we go over every wire Zhura-whatsisname put in 
you, and a few he didn't know about to make sure you're safe. Then we're 
gunna do it again. Then I'll really start watching you."

Abruptly, and to Linna's astonishment the other smiled, a fierce intense 
look that shocked her with its sudden transforming warmth, and moving with 
a fluid blur to Priss she caught both gloved hands in her own, and 
squeezed hard enough to make Priss wince even through the hardsuit.

"I'll instruct you personally on just which bits to check," she said, her 
low musical voice filled with the same wild intensity as her smile, as she 
fixed eyes on Priss's own that were so dark they seemed almost black, and 
bottomless to her.

Taken utterly aback, Priss felt an answering smile flicker for a moment on 
her lips, before she fought it down with what seemed suddenly a supreme 
effort.

"Oy! Don't think I'm falling for any of that!" she snapped, but Linna 
could see even through the hardsuit that some of the tension seemed to 
have left her, and that she had made only a token attempt to pull from the 
DA's fierce grip. "There's no way I'm trusting you; not for a very long 
time.

"Now let's get the hell out of here. Oh, and since we're on first-name 
terms, just who are you?"

Again the other smiled the same wild, magnetic smile, and suddenly a 
thrill of half-fear, half-fascination seemed to shiver slowly down Priss's 
spine.

"Ligeia," said the DA very quietly, yet her low voice seemed suddenly to 
fill the night. "My name is Ligeia."

 				     * * *

"You sure they're both bye-byes?" said Priss uneasily as she helped Ligeia 
secure Marina and Camilla to a single stretcher with a length of heavy 
cable the DA had brought back from one of the derelicts.

"If you consider a total systems crash ‘bye-byes’, then yes," she answered 
simply.

"Then why are you doing that?" said Linna from where she stood and watched 
as Sylia tried with little success to break Liana's bootstrap command 
priority list, so they could move her without having to carry her to the 
Knightwing.

The problem had been unexpected, with the bootstrap designating them, even 
Ligeia, as unauthorised, and refusing to respond to anything they did.

"In case of physical spasms," Ligeia answered.

"But won't they just tear free?" she asked.

"Look, if you can think of a better idea--," Priss shot back as she pulled 
the cable's end tight, and knotted it into place. "That good enough?" she 
ended.

"It will do," The buma answered.

"Well don't thank me all at once," Priss quipped, a momentary grin 
flashing across her face.

Then suddenly she fell silent, one gloved hand half raised.

"You know, I'm sure we've forgotten something," she said softly.

For a moment she was still. Then abruptly she whirled towards Sylia.

"Those human-buma things Liana had!" she exclaimed. "Where are they?"

At her words Sylia's head whipped round in alarm, and Linna turned, 
glancing about her in confusion.

"Damn it!" Priss swore savagely, then jumped as Ligeia laid a slender hand 
lightly on her shoulder.

"They're not far away," she said quietly. "They retreated when the 
Madeleine phage crossed to Liana. They're hiding close together in the 
ruins beneath our feet."

At that the others tensed, staring down as though they expected the 
changed men and women to erupt into battle at any moment.

"I don't believe they'll attack," said ligeia quietly. "I sense only loss, 
and emptiness, indeed there seems very little left of what they were."

"Can you contact--" Sylia began.

But even as she spoke there was a sound of movement below, and a moment 
later a large black brief-case pushed up through one of the innumerable 
cracks in the roof upon which they stood, closely followed by the small, 
slender hand that held it. It was released, and the hand withdrew. Then 
another case and a third were pushed out, followed a moment later by a 
head of long jet-black hair. A moment later the small, slender figure of a 
woman clambered slowly out on to the roof-top, and rose with agonising 
slowness to her feet.

For a long tense moment she stood, her arms hanging limply at her sides, 
her head lowered in a quiet, submissive stance. Then very slowly she 
turned dull empty eyes and a face without life towards the staring Knight 
Sabres, and the still, watching Ligeia.

"My...my name...my name is...was Tomisawa...Sadako." Her words were slow, 
and hesitant, as though she were feeling her way around a language she 
could no longer easily understand, her voice flat, and utterly empty of 
emotion. "I...I am...I was high-priestess of the cult of...of the Dark 
Mistress Fellini...Fellini created to realise...to realise his 
am...ambitions."

For a long moment she remained inhumanly still, her mouth working silently 
as though she were testing it for the words she wanted to say. "I...I am 
here but for one...one purpose. These" she indicated the three cases she 
had brought with her with a slow gesture whose liquid fluidity spoke of 
the precision of a dying machine, rather than of anything human, 
"contain...contain all that you...all that you will need to repair...to 
repair the damage Fellini...Fellini has done to Mis--...to Liana, 
also...also the components you...you will need to make...to make of her 
the Elite she...she was to become. Addition...additionally there is a 
phial contain...containing the last generation of the...of the converting 
nano-machines that...that have brought us...brought us to this. We ask 
that you...that you ensure their destruction, and make of...make of Liana 
what...what she should have...should have been as...as recom...recompense 
for...for what Fellini has done,"

For a long stunned moment no one spoke. Then at last Sylia stirred.

"And you, Sadako?" she said, her voice very quiet in the cold stillness, 
while she stared in horror and compassion at the ruin of the young woman 
before her.

"We...we have nothing...nothing more," she said simply. "When...when Liana 
possessed us, she...she destroyed our last...our last vestige of freedom 
and...and true...true humanity. I...I have sent the command. Even now 
Fellini's...Fellini's estate is...is burning...and all...all within is 
nothing...nothing but fire. There will be...will be nothing to find 
or...or to recover. Even as...even as I speak, my...my companions 
are...are dying beneath us, the last...the last of the active 
nano...nano-technology undoing...undoing the conversion and...and in doing 
so...in doing so, killing them. When it is done the machines will...will 
lose their coherence and...and there will be...will be nothing more 
for...nothing more for Genom or...or anyone else to find."

She faltered, her ruined mind no longer able to convey the emotions she 
wanted to express. Flat, and empty, her voice continued at last. "I am...I 
am the last. I sense death all...all about me. Fare...farewell. Make of 
the...of the DA buma what Zhura...what Zhuranovsky would...would have 
wished and...and destroy Fellini's madness...Fellini's madness for ever."

Then, without another sound, or goodbye, Sadako moved to slip back through 
the crack through which she had pulled herself, and a moment later they 
were alone once more.

"I think I'm gunna be really, *really* sick!" said Priss very quietly at 
last. "Come on. Let's just get the *hell* out of this place!"

The others made no answer.

 				     * * *

"Fatal error! Cannot initialise.

"No primary net found.

"Returning to command mode."

At Marina's words, Ligeia gave a helpless half-cry, half-snarl of 
frustration, and turned yet again to the pad in her lap.

"Still no luck?" said Priss quietly.

She was seated by the buma, her spare helmet on the seat beside her, while 
she watched as Ligeia tried vainly to revive the two Elites.

"The suite shows no Net errors; no sign of the phage!" she answered, her 
low, intense voice tight, and helpless with anger, and growing anxiety. 
"Yet plainly there is some fault in both Marina's and Camilla's bootstrap 
initialisation that it can't find. If I could initiate the drivers I could 
cross to one of them, and check."

"Wouldn't that be dangerous?" Priss asked. "I mean, if there's still some 
chance of--"

"You mean, mightn't I be infected: Become what Liana was?" she 
interrupted, a frigid gleam in her dark eyes.

"Look; I told you it's gunna take a very long time for me to trust you," 
said Priss defensively. "I'm just looking out for my friends; what do you 
expect me to do?

"And anyway," she added "I-I didn't just mean that." Her voice had dropped 
uncomfortably, and she shifted and glanced quickly away for a moment, 
before again meeting the buma's intense unnerving gaze.

Ligeia remained watching her for many seconds in silence. Then she nodded, 
and her expression softened.

"It would be a risk I would take gladly to save them," she said softly, 
her words tight with emotion. "but the point is moot. If I continue to try 
to reactivate them without the suite designed for Marina's firmware, I may 
do more harm than good."

Sighing, she set the little pad aside, and turned dejectedly away.

"There is nothing more I can do here," she said simply, looking to where 
Sylia sat by Liana, her fingers working uselessly at the keyboard of the 
little pad she held, as she tried to break Fellini's redefined priority 
list that gave him total access, whilst locking out anyone else. If only 
Madeleine had thought to purge that as well.

"Couldn't you pull the chip? Clear everything?" Mackie suggested, glancing 
back towards her from where he sat before the pilot's console.

"We don't have a copy of Liana's net, Mackie," said Sylia quietly. "I'm 
not prepared to kill her just like that.

"If only Zhuranovsky were here."

"How would that help?" Linna inquired.

"Because he might have some idea of what his nemesis would have used as 
his pass-phrase," she said with a sigh. "apart from the fact that he is 
intimately acquainted with the systems, and might have installed a 
back-door about which Fellini and even the DAs themselves knew nothing."

"Fellini's password's probably something to shove what he'd done back in 
Zhuranovsky's face," said Priss, the sudden anger in her voice seeming to 
startle even herself. "He must have been one sorry bastard."

"Crudely but very accurately put," Ligeia hissed softly. "Let's see if I 
have more succ--"

"No!" The word brought Ligeia's eyes to Sylia's face in an instant. "I'm 
sorry," Sylia continued; "I didn't mean to be abrupt. But Fellini, or 
possibly Liana herself might well have created something specifically 
designed to damage any DA who tried to break her security. I wonder 
Ligeia, if even you appreciate just how dangerous and malignant she'd 
become.

"You're the last active DA, and perhaps our only chance to save the 
others; we can't take the chance that you might be crippled."

Ligeia gave a low combat-snarl of frustrated rage. But she nodded her 
acquiescence, and settled again in her place.

"So what the hell do we do then?" Priss demanded.

"Wait until we get home I suppose," said Linna wearily. "We're as good as 
there, anyway, and we're not in any state to be much help for the rest of 
the night. Besides, Genom, and the ADP seem to be managing to clean up the 
last of the...whatever they are."

"Neesan, I'm getting energy surges below," said Mackie, glancing again to 
where Sylia still tapped fruitlessly at the palm-top. "I think we've hit 
another battle zone."

"Sh*t; it must be almost on our doorstep!" Priss swore.

"Almost," he agreed. "Also there's one of those energy flares the Genom 
security suite's been reporting, about five-hundred feet above ground. Do 
you want a closer look?"

"As linna said, we're not really in a position to--"

"Take us down!" Ligeia's voice was a low, purring snarl of sudden frigid 
lust for blood. "I intend to finish what Marina, and Camilla began, and I 
intend to take a Youma for interrogation."

"Youma?" Priss demanded. "Marina, and Camilla used that word earlier. Just 
what do you know about those things? Are they some kind of damn crazy 
Genom experiment that's got out of hand?"

"Youma!" Nene exclaimed suddenly, stirring from where she had been resting 
quietly on one of the fold-down bunks. She had wanted to help Sylia, or 
Ligeia, but a wave of giddiness had swept over her the moment she had 
tried to sit up, and Sylia had insisted she lie still. Now she forced 
herself up against the sudden pounding in her head, and stared at the last 
DA, a slow expression of shocked realisation replacing the confusion of a 
moment before. "No wonder I kept getting the feeling I should have 
recognised them!" she continued, her voice shrilling in astonished 
disbelief. "But why would anyone want to make buma that looked like..."

Then abruptly she faltered, her eyes growing if possible wider still as 
she realised something more. "No buma could have just...*appeared* like 
that!" she gasped. "Not to mention what those things did to us!" Then 
staring dumfounded at Ligeia: "You're not really trying to tell us that 
those things are *real* Youma! Sailor Moon Youma!"

She stared in stupefied silence, her expression growing still more 
thunderstruck as the DA nodded slowly in answer.

"I haven't access to Marina's, and Camilla's data" she replied quietly, 
"but they at least seemed to believe it to be the case, and the evidence 
would seem to point to at the least something unsettlingly similar, 
impossible though that may seem.

"As for the battle below: we have very little choice but to intervene; 
it's already close to your--"

Abruptly she lurched on her feet, her eyes going wide with shock, and in 
the same moment all the lights went out.

"Neesan; it's happened again! We've lost all power!" Mackie's voice was a 
near scream of sudden panic. "I can't get any response from anything. 
We're going straight down!"

"Open...the door!" Ligeia had pulled herself upright, and was already 
moving towards the sealed exit. "Release me! I think I've power enough to 
carry you down."

"I can't get power for anything!" Mackie screamed, his fingers flying 
frantically over the console before him. "Engines, auxiliaries, the 
door... Everything's dead!"

"No choice then," said Ligeia simply.

In the next moment her mouth gaped wide, and an instant and a searing 
white pulse later, she had burned and smashed her way from the crippled 
Knightwing, and was beneath it, her thrusters screaming as she fought to 
bring the diving craft under control.

For several seconds it seemed as though she might succeed. Then suddenly 
light exploded all around them, and the sudden scream of over-taxed 
engines filled the cabin.

"Mackie!" Sylia shrieked.

But it was too late. Staring numbly through the window beside her, Priss 
was just in time to see the DA blasted from the suddenly screaming 
aircraft with the force of a missile, her suddenly small form hurtling end 
over end as she plunged towards the centre of the battle.

"Ligeia! No, damn it!" Priss was barely aware that she had screamed the 
words, before a sudden sickening shock smashed her against the window.

"Sh*t!" she gasped, tasting blood, and fighting back the sudden pain.

Shaking the stars desperately from her vision, she was just in time to see 
a yawning, gaping blackness seem to open in the very air before her, and 
something blazing and barely glimpsed come spinning from the rift, before 
they smashed into it, and Priss's head bounced again from the window, 
pitching her dazed, and panting to the floor.

Vaguely she was aware of Sylia leaping to take Mackie's place, while he 
slid into the co-pilot's seat beside her, while behind her Linna lifted a 
dazed Nene from the floor, and secured her in a seat.

"Are you all right?" Linna gasped, her voice tight with frantic tension.

"Damn! Don't everyone help me all at once," Priss groaned as she struggled 
to pull herself upright. "What the hell did we run into?"

"We're damaged, Neesan; we're going to have to put down now."

Mackie's near panic-stricken voice brought the world snapping back into 
focus for Priss as she retrieved her helmet, and jammed it into place. She 
would rather be sealed in her suit if they hit something like that again.

"How bad is it?" she heard Linna ask, her own voice on the raw-edge of 
tension as she too moved to don her suit.

"Bad enough," said Sylia quietly. "I'm not sure we can get down safely. We 
may have to abandon the Knightwing altogether."

"I don't think that should be necessary," Came a sudden low female voice 
from the comms. "Together we should be able to bring you down safely."

"Ligeia?" Priss demanded, shocked by the unlooked-for intensity of her 
sudden flood of relief. "I thought--"

"The rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated," The DA answered 
with a sudden fierce warmth of her own. "Now, time is short. Shall we?"

For the next minute an atmosphere of desperate tension filled the cabin, 
as Sylia and Mackie focussed their attention on the task of bringing the 
crippled Knightwing down safely on Sylia's roof, while Ligeia helped guide 
the craft to a landing that would have been impossible without her help. 
Seeing that she could do nothing, Priss moved to help Linna get a 
still-dazed Nene into her hardsuit, in case the worst happened, and they 
had to get out quickly.

"Slower! We'll overshoot!" Mackie exclaimed.

"I can't risk more power," Ligeia answered tightly. "I haven't enough 
purchase; I might tear apart the undercarriage. You'll have to try to 
turn."

"No time!" Sylia answered fiercely as yet another warning flashed before 
her. "Brace against the nose, Ligeia; slow us as we touch down."

"If you misjudge, I won't be able to stop you plunging into the--"

"I know; just do it!" she said.

"Very well," Came the answer.

For several seconds the others watched as Ladys-633 approached with 
frightening speed. Then with a sickening lurch they struck down. There was 
a splintering tearing mixed with the sudden scream of the engines, and the 
shriek of over-taxed tyres. A shattering whip-crack, and lurch indicated 
that one had burst. Then they were scraping, and screeching to a halt, and 
the sound of the engines died to a suddenly eerie stillness.

"Did we make it? Are we still alive?" Nene said softly into the silence, 
her eyes screwed tightly closed.

"I think we did," said Linna shakily, releasing her death-hold on her 
seat, and moving slowly to stand.

Before them, Priss stared out of the window for a moment, before she too 
stood and moved quickly to the shattered door. "Did you have to make such 
a mess?" She quipped with a sudden release of tension, as she leapt from 
the opening to land beside a just-landed Ligeia. "That's gunna take some 
fixing."

Abruptly she flashed the DA a grin, and reached to squeeze her hand.

"Thanks," she said, sudden genuine warmth in her tone.

Then turning quickly away before Ligeia could respond, she stood silent, 
staring down at the pitched battle in the street only perhaps a hundred 
yards away.

"These are the last," said Ligeia quietly, moving to stand close at her 
side. "It would seem I may not be needed after all. Still..."

She took a step forwards. Then again she lurched suddenly on her feet.

"Damn it, not again!" Priss exploded as her hardsuit froze around her. 
"What the hell is it with these surges!"

"If I'm right, we'll know in a few seconds," Ligeia answered, moving 
carefully back to Priss's side.

"Why doesn't it affect your power?" Priss demanded.

"It does," she responded. "But I've the reserve to counter it, and enough 
control to readjust my plant before the following surge destroys me."