[FFML] [SM] Sailor Moon 4200: Chapter 14 (part 1 of 4)
Angus MacSpon
macspon at ihug.co.nz
Fri May 28 20:00:40 PDT 2010
Surprise! The story rises from the dead!
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SAILOR MOON 4200: What has gone before
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Crystal Tokyo was destroyed in the year 3478. Civilisation fell; a dark
age began. Now, the year 4200 is a time of renaissance, and the city of
Third Tokyo is defended by a new generation of Senshi. Some of them are
old faces, reborn yet again. Others are newcomers. But all of them are
in trouble -- because the enemy that annihilated Crystal Tokyo was never
defeated. And it is waiting for them ...
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In recent chapters:
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Itsuko (now calling herself Seki) returns to the Olympus to retrieve the
sacred fire. 'S' Division are waiting for her and she is arrested. The
Senshi come to the rescue, but 'S' Division have a prototype anti-Senshi
weapon and Jupiter is badly hurt. Then a pack of vitrimorphs attack the
office, and are only destroyed when Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen finally
arrive. After the battle the ghost of Queen Serenity appears and speaks
to each of the Senshi; she also erases all memories of the incident from
the 'S' Division group. The Senshi finally work out that the Council is
their enemy, and Sailor Moon leads them all in an attack on 'M' Division
(where the anti-Senshi prototype was developed). There, while the other
Senshi cause a lot of impressive but ultimately ineffectual damage, Mars
and Mercury meet M (or Emma), an elderly woman who tells them she is the
"real" research department at 'M' Division. Telling Mercury and Mars to
leave, Emma erases all of 'M' Division's computers and then mysteriously
vanishes herself. As the Senshi retreat, Sailor Uranus privately admits
to Moon that she belongs to the Church of Serenity; and when Iku arrives
home, she is met by a cold, abusive parent ...
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S A I L O R M O O N 4 2 0 0
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by Angus MacSpon
macspon at ihug.co.nz
http://shell.ihug.co.nz/~macspon/fanfic/sm4200/index.html
Comments and criticism welcome!
Based on "Sailor Moon" created by Naoko Takeuchi
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C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N
Family
(I Love You I Hate You)
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"She said that?" demanded Bendis. "Queen Serenity said that? Really?"
Beth stifled yet another yawn, giving the cat a sour look. She had had
far too little sleep to be able to deal with a hyperactive cat this
morning. "Yes," she said glumly. "Apparently I really *am* Lady Aino
reborn." The idea gave her a strange feeling: as if a great piece of
her life had been torn away and now belonged to someone else. She did
not much like it.
"No, no. The other bit. She said she's watched me? Really?"
Beth started to regret ever mentioning that she'd met the ghost of Queen
Serenity last night. She finished buttoning her shirt and said, "Yes
... she said that too. But, Bendis --"
"Ha!" the cat exclaimed, and leaped forward to pounce on an unsuspecting
pillow. "Take *that*, Artemis!"
Beth sighed and said, "You know, you're going to have to patch things up
with him someday."
"Nope," said Bendis gaily. "Not gonna happen. Who cares about him,
anyway? Don't you know what this means? I'm *official*!" She
celebrated by sinking down on her haunches, tail waving slowly, and then
murdering the pillow once more.
[Oh, no. Is she using her claws again? I have to *sleep* on that.]
Beth badly wanted to talk to someone, but clearly Bendis was no longer
listening, and this morning she lacked the energy to keep trying.
Yawning again, she gave the conversation up as a bad job and went out to
the kitchen for breakfast.
Her mother tried to talk to her about something as she ate, but Beth did
not pay much attention. Her mind was on other things.
--**--
Later, she went out running in an attempt to clear her mind. A couple
of kids were playing right outside her front gate, and she nearly
tripped over one of them as she left the house. Annoyed, she started to
round on them, but they simply fell back, watching her. Beth gave them
a puzzled look, then gave up and started to jog away. They had been
scrawling with chalk on the pavement outside her gate, she noticed with
a grimace.
She passed by Tomoe Park and grinned as she remembered being there a
couple of weeks before, fantasising about chasing birds. Then her grin
faded and she came to a stop, wiping sweat from her forehead. Had it
been *her* back then, thinking that? Or had it been Aino Minako? Was
Lady Aino the sort of woman who had ... well, chased birds?
She started to run again, vaguely aware that she was being silly. All
the same, what did she actually know about Lady Aino? According to the
'Queen Serenity and her Senshi' anime she had been leader of the Senshi,
an all-star international athlete, and an ace mecha pilot. But in
Beth's dream last night, Minako had told her that the anime makers might
have changed a couple of minor details.
Maybe she ought to finally read that 'Secret Warriors' book that Bendis
had been nagging her about. Maybe next week, when the holidays --
She ran into something solid, head-first, as she rounded a corner. The
breath was jolted from her lungs. She stumbled backwards, clutching her
nose, barely able to see for a moment. When she finally looked up, she
saw a young man dressed in jogging shorts, sprawled on the ground. He
was holding his own nose, and looking up at her accusingly.
[Oops,] she thought. Out loud she said, "Sorry! Are you all right?"
He removed his hand from his nose, inspected it, and finally lost the
scowl. "It's okay," he said, climbing to his feet. "My fault too, I
expect."
He was a Claver like her, she noticed. Tall, lean, dark-haired, about
her own age, with a bit of an accent. Rather good-looking, in a smooth
kind of way ... no. Make that *quite* good-looking.
"No harm done," she said. Her nose still throbbed, but it wasn't
actually bleeding. A little hesitantly, she asked, "Where were you
headed?"
"Oh --" He paused, then gave a funny little shrug. "Just out and
about, really. Seeing what I could see."
"Hah. I just had to get away from my cat," she said without thinking.
She saw his confusion and added hastily, "And anyway, it's too nice a
day to stay in."
"Yeah, it is." He cocked an eyebrow at her, and grinned. "Which
Enclave?"
That was a common question, from one Claver to another. "Dunedin," she
said. "My great-grandparents. You?"
"Alaskay -- originally," he said, and laughed as if at some private
joke. "I just came here a few months ago." He shook his head and took
a deep breath. It did interesting things to his chest. "Anyway, I
should keep moving. Good-bye then, Miss Cat."
"Hey!" Beth said indignantly; but she could not quite conceal her smile
at the title. And then, quite suddenly, she made up her mind. She did
not want to spend the rest of the day alone, trying to cope with a
solicitous family and a hyperactive Bendis, and not knowing who she was
any more. She wanted to feel ... normal.
It didn't hurt, of course, that he was nice-looking. And polite. And
handsome. And ...
And he wasn't Eitoku, and that was good.
She cocked an eye at him and asked, "Could you use some company?" He
looked startled, and she smiled back at him. There had been a time
when she would never have spoken out like that. Well, not any more.
Maybe it was the Minako in her.
After all, if it turned out that she *was* actually Aino Minako, a cute
guy was nothing more than her just desserts. And if she was only plain
old Beth, well, didn't Beth deserve something too?
He gave her another look, frankly appraising. Then he smiled again.
"Why not?" he said. "Which way were you going?"
She pointed, and they started to run. He was taller than her, and she
had to push a little harder to keep pace with him, but that was all
right. She didn't feel tired any longer. She had all the energy in the
world.
"I'm Beth," she called out to him, a little breathlessly, and added,
"You?"
He glanced at her over his shoulder, and she could have sworn that the
sunlight was dancing in his eyes. He answered, "Mark."
****************
Ochiyo slept in. If she had been at home her parents would have woken
her, but this was the Olympus and she could sleep as late as she liked.
And it *had* been a long night.
When she did wake, she sat up and blinked around the bedroom, wondering
where Miyo was. The whole apartment was strangely quiet, actually, and
something was missing: all of Miyo's belongings were gone. Had they
been burgled again? Had the Masked Avenger come back? She opened her
mouth to call out --
Then she remembered. Miyo was Makoto now, and she and Itsuko (no, Seki)
had had to leave. Ochiyo had, rather cheekily, spent the night in an
empty apartment. Well, empty for a while, anyway.
Oh, and she -- Aizawa Ochiyo -- was Sailor Moon. She had known it for a
few days already, but still, that one was going to take a little getting
used to.
She got out of bed and padded down the corridor to the bathroom. As she
showered, she thought about the previous night: the battle, the
discussions that had followed, and the raid on 'M' Division. She
wondered what the government would make of the mess they had left, and
grinned.
Then there was the matter of her new companions. It helped that she
knew some of them already -- and at last she finally knew why Miyo (no,
Makoto) had come to live with Seki. That had been puzzling her for a
long time. Though trying to remember to think of them by their new
names was getting quite annoying.
And there were the others: the absurd Dhiti and the extravagant Beth,
apparently competing for which of them was going to be the team clown.
The odd, silent Iku, who gave the impression of being afraid all the
time, but who hadn't hesitated to risk her life saving Ochiyo's. And
Suzue, who believed that Ochiyo was the daughter of a goddess. That had
been oddly affecting, as a matter of fact: seeing her classmate bow down
before her, in all sincerity. Ochiyo wasn't sure how she was going to
handle the situation, just yet, but she would probably know when the
moment came. She usually did.
Oh, and there was the mysterious Tuxedo Kamen. Who had been romancing
her in secret for a long time now -- and who last night had kissed her,
and gotten her all hot and sweaty. And ... who turned out to be her
father from a past life, reborn. That one was a little disturbing, to
tell the truth, and she tightened her lips at the memory. She gathered
that he probably didn't remember who he was, and probably thought that
she was his dead wife; but all the same, if he tried that again she was
going to kick his balls up past his ears.
She stepped out of the shower and dressed, wrapping her hair in a towel.
So: over the course of a few days she had learned that she was the heir
to a long-dead kingdom; acquired a team of Senshi; and now the
government of Japan was trying to kill her with giant crystalline
monsters. There was a hell of a beginning, if you liked.
Wasn't there something missing from this whole scenario, though? Under
her breath, she muttered to herself, "If I'm Sailor Moon, I thought the
position was supposed to come with a cat."
Still pensive, she went down to the end of the corridor and looked
through the door into Itsuko's -- no, Seki's office. By daylight, it
was even more of a wreck than she had remembered from the night before.
She had been half-hoping it was all a dream.
She shook her head and turned to go, and then paused as an odd detail
caught her eye.
Among all the broken furniture, crystal fragments, papers and other
litter that strewed the floor, there were what looked like piles of rags
here and there. Ochiyo hesitated, then went into the room and looked at
one of them. To her surprise, it looked like the remains of a man's
jacket and shirt. But it was ripped almost to shreds, as if it had been
inflated like a balloon until it burst. As if the wearer had suddenly
... enlarged.
The idea made her think of the night before. She had not been present
when the vitrimorphs arrived, but there had been four of them. And --
she glanced around the room again. There were four piles of tattered
clothes.
"Huh," she said to herself. On impulse, she rummaged through the
clothes and checked the pockets. Who knew what a vitrimorph might have
been carrying?
To her surprise, she found something in the jacket's inside pocket. A
little mock-leather wallet. She flipped it open and found an ID card.
KASAMATSU AMANE, it said. Apparently a member of something called the
Technical Enforcement Network.
None of it meant anything to her, but the others might know more. She
tucked the wallet into her own pocket, glanced around the office once
more, and then, with a faint shudder, took a few of the crystal shards
as well. Wiping her hand on the seat of her pants, she hurried out the
office.
Once the wreckage was out of sight, she realised that she was hungry.
She went through to the kitchen and helped herself to breakfast. That
made everything feel better. When she was done, she started to leave
the dishes; but then she had a sudden mental image of Seki's expression.
Making a face, she carefully cleaned up after herself, and found herself
wondering if she ought to re-stock the pantry.
All right, so sleeping here had been a little presumptuous. True, Seki
hadn't actually said anything after the battle last night; but still,
with more than a little regret, Ochiyo decided that she had probably
better not do it again.
[Anyway,] she thought, [if Seki-san is really on the run, the police
will probably seal the place up.]
She started getting ready to go, reflecting that if she couldn't sleep
here, then she was going to have to stop working late shifts at the
gymnasium. It was a pity, she had quite enjoyed them; but it couldn't
be helped. But it did mean that the duty rosters would need to be
rearranged; she would have to mention it to --
Her thoughts came to a sudden halt. Talk to whom? Who was in charge at
the Olympus now, anyway? With its owner mysteriously vanished, what
would happen to the gymnasium, and all the people who worked there? Who
would take over?
[Please, please, let it not be Yukimi.] Feeling somewhat disgruntled,
she went down to catch the bus home.
The trip was just long enough to make her feel sleepy again, and she was
yawning as she went inside. The house was quiet, but she could hear a
chopping sound from the kitchen. She dropped off her satchel in her
room and headed toward the sound.
Her mother looked up from slicing vegetables and remarked, "You're
late." The air in the kitchen was warm, and something smelled
delicious. In the background, the radio played softly.
"I slept in," Ochiyo said, and yawned again. "Extra-late night last
night."
Aizawa Nozomi raised her eyebrows. "These late nights of yours bother
me. It's not so bad when it's on the weekend, but --"
"Yeah, I know, I know." Ochiyo opened the pantry door and started to
rummage. She'd already had breakfast, but the smells in the kitchen
were making her hungry again ... and there was always room for a little
more. "Actually, I may have to stop the late-night shifts."
"Oh? Why?"
One of the cake tins was suggestively heavy. She opened it, and made a
face. "Oh, yecch. Carrot cake, again?"
"Some of us like it, dear. Why do you have to stop the late-night
shifts? Is it a problem with that girl you have to share a room with?"
Ochiyo had planned out an excuse during the bus ride home, but now,
suddenly sure that it would be a mistake, she abandoned it. She put the
cake tin down and said, "No, not exactly. Actually, Itsuko-san and
Miyo-san weren't there. Nobody at the Olympus knows where they've gone;
it's like they've disappeared. The police have been looking for them."
Almost as an afterthought she added, "Why not chocolate cake for a
change?"
"The police?" Nozomi looked up, startled. "My goodness. Do they think
they've been murdered?"
"I don't know, I wasn't there when they searched the apartment.
Yukimi-san says she thinks Itsuko-san is a criminal on the run!" Ochiyo
snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure *she* knows what's going on."
"Don't be silly; I've met Itsuko-san. I expect it's just a
misunderstanding, dear." Her mother went back to her chopping, paused,
and looked up again. "Wait a moment, you spent the night there when
Itsuko-san wasn't even home?"
"Uh. Well --"
"And when *the police had been searching the apartment*?"
"All right, so maybe it wasn't the best idea!" Ochiyo retorted. "But
what else was I supposed to do? It's not like I don't have permission
to be there. Itsuko-san gave me the door code and everything."
"I hardly think this was what she had in mind, though," replied Nozomi.
"Really, Ochiyo! What if the police had come again this morning? You
could have been in a lot of trouble." Her brow wrinkled. "In fact, if
Itsuko-san really is in some kind of trouble, you might be better off
leaving the gymnasium for good."
The girl stared at her. "Quit my *job*? I don't want to do that!"
"Hmm. We'll see. Maybe I should call 'P' Division and see if I can
find anything out. That Lieutenant Nishihara is nice and friendly."
Ochiyo was beginning to regret ever opening her mouth. "But --" she
began. Then she stopped. She had a feeling that anything she said now
was just going to make things worse.
Besides, from what she'd heard last night, the police weren't likely to
know much anyway. She hoped.
Nozomi gave her a quizzical look. "You still look tired, dear. Did you
get enough sleep?" Her eyes narrowed as she studied Ochiyo. "Just how
late a night did you have, anyway? You didn't just sit up watching the
viddy, with nobody else around, did you?"
"No!" Ochiyo protested, a little too fast.
"I *see*. Well, that's settled: no more late shifts for *you*, young
lady. Not until Itsuko-san gets back and gets all this cleared up.
She's a sensible one, at least." Nozomi sniffed. "Though it's high time
she settled down and started a family. That woman isn't getting any
younger."
Ochiyo thought about this, and giggled.
"Now, why don't you go and get some more sleep? I'll give you a call
when lunch is ready."
"Okay, okay." She yawned. "I guess I wouldn't mind a nap."
"That's good." Nozomi returned to her chopping board and went back to
dissecting a pumpkin for vegetable soup. As Ochiyo started to leave,
her mother added, almost casually, "I don't make chocolate cake very
often because you'd just eat it all and get fat, dear. The rest of us
wouldn't get a crumb."
Ochiyo whirled around. Her mother's eyes were still on the pumpkin she
was slicing, but she was smiling faintly. Ochiyo stared at her for a
second. Then she went over to the bench and hugged the woman. "Thanks,
Mom."
Nozomi's smile widened, just a fraction. "Sleep well, dear."
Ochiyo released her and started out the door again. As she went, the
song on the radio ended and a voice began, "Now the eleven o'clock news
headlines. Last night, a group of vandals broke into 'M' Division
offices --"
****************
Dhiti woke up to find Artemis sitting on the foot of her bed, staring at
her. Her eyes snapped wide open. Over the last week she had gotten
some practise in reading the cat's expression, and the glare he was
levelling at her now did not look friendly.
She thought about throwing her pillow at him and going back to sleep.
Instead she pushed back the covers and sat up. "Hi," she said, a little
muzzily, and yawned. "Did I do something wrong, or did you get up the
wrong side of the kitty litter today?"
"Wrong?" he responded stiffly. "Let me see. You go running off in the
middle of the night to save Itsuko and don't come back for *hours*. But
that's okay; why would I be worried? I'm just a cat. No need to call
me up and let me know what's happening." He glared at her. "Then when
you *do* get home, you've obviously been in serious action, and you've
got Iku with you and she's been *hurt* ... but there's still no time to
say a word to the cat, oh no --"
"Okay, okay!" said Dhiti. They'd had this conversation before. She
rubbed her eyes, sighing, and went on, "Just keep it down, will you? My
parents are downstairs. Look, we were busy last night! I never had a
chance to call you, that's all."
A moment too late, she remembered that that wasn't exactly true. There
had been a few points where she could have called him ... if she'd
remembered. But she'd been a little distracted; and besides --
"Hey, wait a minute," she said suddenly. "How am I supposed to call
you, anyway? You can't exactly answer a commset."
Artemis rolled his eyes. "I have a communicator, of course. Now, can
we have done with the Twenty Questions, and talk about what happened
last night?"
"You have a communicator? How come I've never seen it?" Dhiti blinked.
"Come to think of it, where do you even *keep* it --? Oh, all right."
She yawned again, climbed out of bed, and gave him a quick summary of
the night's events as she pulled on her clothes. Artemis primly kept
his back turned while she dressed, but his ears were pricked up and his
tail held high as he listened.
"Serenity was *there*?" he demanded at one point, incredulous.
"No, my mistake, it was the Ghost of Christmas Past. He, the Easter
Bunny and the Midsummer Mujina wanted to invite us to a clambake."
Dhiti rolled her eyes. "Yes, she was there! Sort of. More like her
ghost, I think."
Artemis was no longer listening. His ears and tail were drooping; he
looked as if he had just been struck in the face by a worldful of bad
news. As if -- well, as if someone had died. In a low, dismal voice,
he said, "She was there ... and I missed her? Oh, Serenity ..."
"Yeah, and I didn't even get her autograph," retorted Dhiti without a
trace of sympathy. She was far too short of sleep this morning; if
there was one thing she was not prepared to tolerate, it was a maudlin
cat. "C'mon, what do you expect? You couldn't've come with me; you'd
never have been able to keep up on foot, and I can't just go carrying
you around my neck or something. It'd ... it'd look unnatural."
He shot her a mutinous look. "Minako used to do it," he muttered.
"Uh -- right." Dhiti decided to ignore that. She eyed him for a moment
and said, "You could just turn human, you know. You'd be able to get
around a lot of places a cat can't."
Artemis glanced away. "I ... don't do that any more."
"Huh?"
"Turn human." He looked back at her, but would not meet her eyes. "Not
since Luna died. I ... don't even like to think of it any more."
Dhiti paused, remembering his story of how the black Moon Cat had died:
in womanly form, helping defend the Crystal Palace. Then something
occurred to her. "Wow. You've ... been pining for her, haven't you?
Both of them, Luna and Lady Aino. For the last seven hundred years."
"Pining?" Artemis gave her a suspicious look. "What are you trying to
say?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm just, ah ... struck by synchronicity, that's all."
Dhiti grinned. "You know, you ought to talk to Seki-san about this.
She might have some surprising insights into your problem."
"Sometimes," the cat said frostily, "I have absolutely no idea what
you're talking about. Who is Seki-san?"
"Oh, right. Let's see, now ..." She thought for a moment and then went
on, narrating the events of the evening before. In the spirit of pure
mischief, she left out Itsuko's part in the interviews with the queen:
her confession of love for Serenity, and her later impassioned defence
of her feelings. Let the cat find out for himself; it might do him some
good. Pining, forsooth!
(Anyway, she thought privately, she was not sure she could do justice to
that part of the story. The sight of the stern, haughty Itsuko on her
knees before the queen, crying, had been ... kind of moving. Dhiti
decided that she wanted to think about that one a bit more, privately,
before she talked to anyone else about it.)
She breezed through much of the rest of what had happened, but slowed
down again when she got to the raid on 'M' Division. That needed more
explanation, to tell him how Iku had been hurt and why the girl had
spent the rest of the night in Dhiti's room, until Dhiti took her back
home early in the morning.
When she finished at last, she waited for the cat's response. None came
for some time. Artemis sat on the bed in an almost formal posture, eyes
closed, completely motionless except for the tip of his tail, which
twitched back and forth as he thought.
Eventually he spoke. "So," he said, "you raided 'M' Division, destroyed
a couple of offices, and smashed up all the equipment in a workshop.
You also beat up some security guards, broke into a top-secret lab, and
prompted the scientist there to erase all of 'M' Division's computer
records. Is that what you're saying?"
"Umm ..." Dhiti hesitated. "More or less. But when you put it like
that --"
"Tell me," he interrupted, "what did Itsu-- no, what did, ah, Seki have
to say about this plan?"
"Oh, she was against it. She thought we ought to at least do some more
investigation first. Uh ... why?"
"Because," the cat said, his voice rising, "it's comforting to know that
at least one person last night managed to *keep a vestige of sanity*!"
Dhiti stared at him blankly. "You don't think it was a good idea?"
Artemis took a deep breath. "No," he ground out, "I do not think it was
a good idea. Even supposing you're right that the Serenity Council are
our enemy, do you have any idea how this is going to *look*? The Senshi
are supposed to be heroes! Not petty vandals!"
"But --"
"What did you think you were doing there? Striking back, you said?
Against who? What enemies did you think you were fighting? None of
them were *there*! You weren't fighting anyone at all -- you were
acting like cheap thugs!"
"Hey!" Dhiti protested. "They attacked us, remember? We were just
striking back!"
"And what a strike it was!" he shot back. "You smashed up a workshop.
Yeah, that'll show 'em! That'll teach them what they're up against, all
right! They must be shaking in their boots now!" He shook his head,
groaning. "It's as if someone bullied you, and you tried to get even by
going and kicking his little brother. Dhiti, you're supposed to be the
smart one. Why don't you *think*? What's going to happen when this
gets out? When people hear that the Senshi have been burglarising an
office building and writing their *names* on the wall?! You're going to
become a laughing-stock!"
Dhiti finally lost her temper. She did not do it often, she hated the
loss of control ... but it had been a very long night. "All right,
then!" she snarled. "So we screwed up! Go ahead and rub it in! At
least we were *doing* something, instead of just sitting around
wondering what the bad guys were going to do next!" She glared at him,
fists clenched. "And don't you tell me you couldn't have gotten to the
Olympus last night if you'd wanted to. You *decided* not to go. And if
you hadn't -- who knows? You might have gotten to see your precious
queen after all."
Artemis stared back at her, his fur bristling. For a perilous moment,
she thought something dreadful was going to happen. Then, in a low,
half-choked voice, he said, "I've ... got to go. I need to talk to
Itsuko about this."
He leaped from the bed to the windowsill, and then out. Dhiti ran over
to the window and saw him land on the ledge a metre down, then spring to
a fence-post and down to the ground.
"Her name is Seki now!" she yelled down at him. "And you don't even
know where she lives!"
He ignored her. She saw him stalk over to a narrow gap in the fence,
and then he was gone.
--**--
By the time Dhiti had showered and dressed, she felt calmer. All the
same, she was in a scratchy mood as she went downstairs. Seeing her
father sitting in his favourite armchair, reading the morning paper, did
not help.
"Good morning," he said without looking up, precisely as her foot hit
the bottom step.
She jerked at the words and then scowled, but it was a familiar scowl.
He had been pulling that trick on her since she was a small child, and
she had never yet worked out how. "Good morning, Father," she muttered
in return.
"You slept late this morning," he observed, still apparently intent on
his paper.
"I had a late night," she returned shortly. He was always like this.
It drove her up the wall.
"And, regrettably, I am forced to wonder who you were shouting at, up in
your room. I was not aware that we had a guest."
Dhiti hesitated, just for an instant. She tried to hide it, but she
knew he would have noticed. Sharma Praket was a very observant man
when he wanted to be. "No," she said. "I was shouting at the cat."
"Ah." Imperturbably, her father turned a page. "Well, I am sure you
had good reason. I kept white mice when I was a boy," he added in a
musing tone, "but I do not recall ever feeling the need to shout at
them."
"Yeah, well, did your white mice ever puke up hairballs?"
"Mm, no. Perhaps you have a point there." Praket gave a thin smile,
still without looking up. "I am glad your pet is proving to be
educational, then."
"Oh, he's educational, all right," Dhiti mumbled. Artemis did not leave
hair-balls, thankfully; or, at least, he had not done so yet. She would
have to ask him about the subject when he got back, she mused, and the
thought of his probable reaction did much to cheer her up.
If he came back at all, of course.
She left the room before her father could answer. If there was one
person in the world who could make her feel completely inadequate, it
was him. Grumbling to herself, she headed through to the kitchen in
search of breakfast.
She found her mother there, working on a sinkful of dishes. She was
humming softly to herself as she worked, the way she often did. The
tune was familiar, although Dhiti could not place it immediately. For
some reason, though, it sounded comforting.
A moment later her stomach rumbled, and she set the mystery song aside.
"Hi, Amma," she said, opening the pantry and rummaging inside for
breakfast. She filled a bowl with muesli and spooned yoghurt from the
fridge over the top, then sat down at the table to eat.
Sharma Salila looked around, stopping her humming. "Good morning," she
said. "I thought I heard voices before. Were you arguing with Miyo-san
again?"
"I, uh. Was talking with a friend, yeah. Sorry."
"It's no bother." Salila brushed a stray hair from her eyes. "But you
should make up with her, sweetheart. Fighting is bad for you." She
held Dhiti's eyes until, reluctantly, the girl nodded. Then, with a
smile, she went back to her dishes. After a moment, she started to hum
again.
Dhiti returned to her breakfast, grinning in spite of herself. As she
ate, the tune caught her attention once more. Why was it so familiar?
She found herself humming along with it.
Then, suddenly, she remembered where she had heard it before. It was a
lullaby, one her mother had sung to her countless times when she was
small. A silly, sentimental thing, but still ... hearing it again now
made her feel warm, and happy.
She realised that she was smiling at the memory, and after a little she
joined in the refrain.
By and by, my darling,
Sun will come again.
There'll be golden mornings
After days of rain ...
They finished the song together. As Dhiti started to get up, her mother
reached over and neatly plucked the empty plate and spoon from in front
of her and slid them into the sink. Dhiti watched her for a minute. On
impulse, she leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek.
Salila looked around, a little surprised at the gesture -- it was not
something Dhiti did often -- and smiled fondly back at her daughter.
"Feeling better?" she asked.
Dhiti nodded.
"Good. Now, you go back upstairs," she said, "and call Miyo-san again.
Make up your quarrel. After everything that's happened, that girl needs
her friends." She nodded once, for emphasis, and then turned back to
her dishes. Within a few seconds, she was humming once more.
Dhiti headed back up to her room. Her smile faded as she went. She
felt like a fraud. Miyo needed her friends now, sure, but she wasn't
the one Dhiti had been shouting at. It was Artemis that she really
needed to apologise to. Because -- damn it -- Artemis had been right.
He wasn't there when she got to her room, of course.
In an effort to distract herself, she reached out and turned on her
radio. It came on in the middle of a news report and she almost changed
the station, but something made her listen.
"-- eleven o'clock news headlines. Last night, a group of vandals broke
into 'M' Division offices and caused several million yen worth of damage
to laboratory tools and instruments, some of which were used to maintain
vital hospital equipment. There is no information yet on how much was
stolen. A spokesman for 'M' Division stated that he suspects drunken
hooligans were responsible, and he beseeches those responsible to give
themselves up to avoid a scandal." A pause. "Reports are still coming
in of injuries incurred during the Zarigani Mall disaster. Yesterday
afternoon, the --"
Dhiti snapped the radio off, rolled over onto her back, and stared at
the ceiling.
"Well," she said savagely, "that's just *great*."
****************
Iku knelt in the dark and tried to hold in her misery.
She was naked, and alone, and the basement was dim and cold. Even in
the height of summer, it never warmed up much down here; the insulation
was excellent, and Mother loved air-conditioning. Iku huddled her arms
around herself, but it did little to stop her shivering.
A thin, grey light filtered through a single, tiny, dirty glass window,
and more came down the steps from the open kitchen door. Up above, she
could hear the movement as her family bustled about, the clattering of
dishes as they ate their breakfast. It made her feel even more
forsaken.
She might have wept, but she did not dare make a sound. Every now and
then, someone would come to the door and listen for a moment. If they
heard anything, her punishment would only get worse. She knew from
experience how much worse it could get.
She bowed her head down, loose hair hanging over her face. She clenched
her fists as her body shook, and shed hot, silent tears.
[Dhiti-san, why did you bring me back ...?!]
She held herself for a long time, until the spasm ended. Then she
lifted her hands to wipe the teardrops from her eyes. It did no good to
cry. Nobody ever listened.
Besides, she already knew the answer to that unvoiced question. Dhiti
had brought her back here because this was where she belonged. Alone,
in the dark.
[If you want help,] Serenity had told her, [you are surrounded by people
who will do their utmost to give it.] Yes; oh, yes. This was the help
they gave her. This was what she deserved, and she had been a fool to
think, even for a moment, that there could be more.
[Dhiti-san ...!]
She drew a long, shuddering breath, and almost gagged from the stench.
Partly it was the smell of her own fear and unhappiness: dark, dismal
and cloying, a scent she knew well. Partly it came from the pool in the
corner, a metre or two away, where she had thrown up after the beating.
But mostly it came from a much nearer source.
She had been down here for hours now; she was sure of that, though it
was hard to know just how long. Sometimes in the past she had tried to
keep track by counting to herself, but once she got above a few thousand
it was so easy to slip. She seldom bothered nowadays. Her punishment
would last as long as it lasted, and there was no use in trying to
measure it. She might start looking forward to an ending, and that only
gave her mother an extra tool to punish her with.
Another way to measure time was by how often she had to pee. This was
one of the worst things about her punishment (though not the very
worst). There was no bathroom in the cellar. Even if there had been
one, she was not allowed to move from her kneeling position. She always
hung on for as long as she could ... and in the end, she always failed.
Her legs and feet were cold and wet. The smell was everywhere,
inescapable. She drew it in with every breath. Every time, she hoped
that she might get used to it eventually, but it never seemed to happen.
It made her head swim, sometimes; it made her want to gag.
So she knelt in the dark in a pool of her own filth, alone and naked,
hungry and thirsty and desperately weary, and waited. Waited for
something to happen; for the punishment to end, or for someone to find a
new way to hurt her. One way or another, the hurting never ended, and
by now she knew that it never would.
Certainly her body ached. There was the endless dull throb of her
sprained ankle that flared to bright hot pain when she moved it; the
rippling cramps in her legs from holding this position for so long; and
the sharper, harsher pain in her back from where her mother had beaten
her. Oh, Mother was an expert in the art by now; the welts soon faded
without leaving a mark. By tomorrow, or the next day at the latest, Iku
would be able to go back to school and, why, nobody would know that
anything had happened at all.
Back to school, to face Beth and Nanako and the others; back to watch
them talk and laugh, and know that this was something she did not
deserve. She did not belong; she was the outsider, the unworthy one.
The one who should never have been born.
Had she not been told, often enough? She knew that it was true.
So now she had learned another lesson, in misery and pain like all the
rest. And oh, she had learned so many, over the years! Keep your head
down. Be quiet. Don't talk; don't ask questions; don't call attention
to yourself. You're not important, so stay in the background. If
nobody knows you're there, they won't need to punish you ...
That was how to keep going. That was the way to survive.
A sharp clatter of feet on the stairs made her head jerk up. Mother was
coming down; and behind her, his usual arrogant smirk on his face, was
her brother Masahiko. They reached the bottom, and Mother flipped the
light switch on. Iku winced at the pain in her eyes, and tried to
straighten up. Her ankle flared with new pain and she stifled a gasp.
The two of them stood, staring down at her in silence for a few seconds.
Then Mother's nose wrinkled; she looked down at the puddle around Iku's
legs, and made a revolted face.
"You filthy, disgusting sow!" she said, her voice thick with contempt.
"Is there nothing you won't sink to? Have you no self-control at all?"
She almost spat the words out. "Or do you actually *enjoy* it?
Wallowing in your own filth! That my own daughter should come to this."
Iku made no attempt to reply. She had not been given permission to
speak. And it was nothing she had not heard before.
Her brother, for his part, said nothing. He only stood there at
Mother's side and watched Iku, smirking. His eyes paused briefly on her
breasts, dropped to her groin, and then returned. His mouth opened for
a moment and he licked his lips.
Here was a new terror, one that had been growing slowly over the last
few months. Masahiko was younger than her, only thirteen years old. He
did his share of tormenting her, joining her mother with punches, kicks
and insults of his own. Already he showed a talent for inventive
cruelty that rivalled Mother's, though as yet he lacked the strength to
really hurt Iku physically. But recently, she had seen a new hunger in
his eyes when he looked at her, and the casual blows had been joined by
sly pinches and tweaks, hands that strayed to her nipples or her crotch.
He was not strong enough, not yet; but already she had begun to dread
being alone with him. In a year or two ...
At least that was one thing she did not have to fear from Mother. And
at least she did not have a father.
"Well?" her mother demanded, cutting into her thoughts. "Don't you have
anything to say for yourself?"
Iku dropped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mother," she said in a low voice.
"Sorry! Is that all? Yes, you're a sorry one, all right, you miserable
creature. I'm sorry, too -- sorry that I ever laid eyes on you."
Snake-quick, Mother's hand reached down and seized Iku by the chin,
tilting the girl's face up with a brutal jerk. "When I think," she said
softly, "of how I suffered for twenty-eight hours to bring you into the
world ... of all the endless attention I've lavished on you, ever since
-- and for what? Look at you!" Her voice began to rise. "I don't know
why I bother. How could I ever have imagined that you'd amount to
anything? Conceiving you was a mistake, and allowing you to be born was
a bigger one. You've been nothing but a worthless nuisance since you
first drew breath, and you'll be one until you die." She paused, as if
waiting for something, then barked out, "*Well*?"
Iku shrank back with a moan. Fear and despair warred within her; the
heartache threatened to drown her. Her eyes were filling with tears
again. "I'm sorry," she repeated in a helpless whisper.
"'I'm sorry,'" Mother mimicked scornfully. "Is that all you know how to
say? No, don't answer; I don't need to listen to your grovelling. You
disgust me. Worthless you are and worthless you've been since the day
you were born. But now I find that you're spreading your whining ways
to bother other people too! Oh, yes, I know you've been slipping off
these last few weeks; don't think I haven't noticed. But now this --
weaselling your way into a slumber party last night! Faugh!" She spat.
"Burdening others with your selfish demands -- forcing that Claver girl
to bring you home this morning --"
Releasing Iku's chin, she bent down to look the girl in the face. Her
eyes seemed to bore into Iku's own: harsh, angry, pitiless. "Such an
inflated opinion you have of yourself, Iku my girl. Do you actually
imagine you're that important? Do you have the gall to believe you're
worth her time? You pathetic fool. You're an imposition, that's all.
You're *in the way* -- and now you're forcing decent folk to go out of
their way to cater to your selfish whims. How *dare* you?!"
She straightened up suddenly -- and then stepped back and lashed out,
striking Iku across the face with the full weight of her arm.
Half-blinded by the blow, Iku was flung to the floor by the impact. Her
shoulder landed in a sludge of mixed vomit and urine, and skidded. She
came to a rest in an ungainly sprawl, lying on her back in the pool.
She sucked in a breath in a gasp of pain, and almost threw up again at
the stench that filled her nose and her lungs. She could feel it, cold
and thick and clammy, soaking into her hair. Her stomach roiled. Not
daring to move, she lay there, naked and filthy, and waited.
Mother gazed down at her, eyes cold. "You've been a blight on enough
lives, girl," she growled. "Heaven knows you've blighted mine and your
brother's. To think your father left me over *you*! Left an innocent
girl with a squalling, screaming burden, all alone. All the years I
slaved over you, working myself to the bone without him, bringing you
up, and look at you! I should have had you aborted the moment I knew
you weren't his."
For a moment the loathing faded from her voice, and an almost wistful
look crossed her face. "My precious Keisuke!" she said. "Him and his
damned scruples. One wretched night at a party -- what was that? But
no, he walked out the day he found out the truth -- months before his
true son, my darling baby boy, was even born. As if some pathetic
by-blow meant more than his wife and his true son!"
The wistful look was gone now, and the anger back in its place.
Half-turning, she reached out and rpughly pulled Masahiko to her. He
squirmed, then settled into her embrace and looked back at Iku with a
smirk. His eyes never left her body; he licked his lips again.
"You think about that, girl," Mother went on in a rasp, one hand playing
roughly through Masahiko's hair. "Think about how much harm you've
done. Think about how much I sacrificed just for you to be born; how
much your brother and I sacrifice every day to feed and clothe you. And
this is the thanks we get? A dirty, good-for-nothing guttersnipe; a
sneaky, underhanded girl who thinks nothing of dragging other innocents
down with her. What do you think that Claver girl would say if she saw
you now? Do you think she'd be happy to see her *friend*?"
Iku tried to stifle it, but failed. A single sob escaped. Her eyes
burned, and she felt hot tears on her cheeks.
Mother snorted. "Yes, you think about that. Maybe a few more hours
down here will help you think a little more clearly. Me, I don't want
to have to look at you any more. The sight of you makes me sick."
She turned and strode back up the stairs, pulling Masahiko after her.
At the top, she flicked off the light switch without looking back, and
closed the door behind her. Silence fell in the cellar; thick, heavy
silence, and the dark.
Iku lay on the cold, concrete floor, in a stinking pool of bodily waste,
and clutched herself and cried. Every part of her hurt. She could
hardly breathe for the foulness of the air, but she could not seem to
move; her muscles did not want to respond. But worse than the pain or
the smell was the desperate, overwhelming misery, the utter desolation
that was her life.
"I'm sorry, Mommy," she gasped through her tears. "I'm sorry. I'll do
better, I promise ... please don't hate me -- please ..."
Silently, deep inside her, something added: [Dhiti-san, why?]
And last, so deep down that she was almost unaware of it, hardly even
knew that she still remembered:
[Oh, Koinu-chan, I miss you so much ...]
--**--
Above her, outside, two children crouched in the garden. Young boys, no
more than eleven, they were positioned close by the house, out of sight
to a casual glance from inside. Both of them looked scared.
They were hunkered down by the cellar window. It was closed, and they
had not been able to hear much, but they had heard enough; and while the
light had been on, they had seen enough. More than enough.
One boy gave a frightened, sick look to his companion and said in a low
voice, "Let's go."
The other boy said, "I ... didn't think it would be like this ..."
"Come on. Let's go."
****************
The commset let out a shrill buzz. There was no reaction, and it kept
right on buzzing. At last, with a groan, Hiiro Yoichi sat up in bed and
reached for the handset.
"Hiiro," he said in a voice still thick with sleep. "What is it?"
"Captain, it's me." Aoiro's voice. "Sorry to wake you, sir."
Hiiro sighed to himself and rubbed his eyes. "Get on with it, Aoiro."
He glanced across at the clock. God, he'd had, what, two hours' sleep?
Well, it was better than some nights.
"Can you please check your gun, sir?"
Hiiro paused. "What?"
"Just check it, sir. Please."
Hiiro took the handset away from his ear and stared at it for a second.
Then, lifting it once more, he said, "All right. I hope you're going to
let me in on the joke sooner or later."
He climbed out of bed and walked over to the stand where his heavy
leather jacket hung, reaching in and pulling his pistol out of the
built-in holster. To Aoiro he said, "Okay, what now? Is this the point
where the dancing girls burst out? I have it and it looks -- what the
*hell*?"
He stared down at the gun he was holding. It was a Saurin Special, one
of the finest handguns in the world: double-action, 10.6mm, utterly
reliable. And it had very obviously been fired recently, and put away
without being cleaned.
Funny how he no longer felt sleepy at all.
With steady hands, he checked the pistol over carefully, then unloaded
it. The magazine held only three cartridges. But -- He paused, and
checked his jacket again. He found an empty clip.
Hiiro lifted the comm handset to his ear once more. "All right, Aoiro,
you have my attention," he said. "How did you know? More importantly,
*what* do you know?"
"Your gun's been fired?"
"Obviously. Get on with it, Aoiro."
"Mine's the same. Captain, this isn't possible. I never fired a shot
last night, and neither did you!"
"No." Hiiro tried to think. What had happened last night? They went
to the Olympus, expecting to wait in hiding and arrest Pappadopoulos
when she showed up. Instead they found a full-on confrontation in
progress, between the Sailor Senshi and a bunch of giant crystal
monstrosities. Hiiro made the decision to back away gracefully. He'd
spent the rest of the night explaining himself to headquarters, but in
the end Colonel Shiro endorsed his decision.
At no time had anybody fired a shot. They weren't suicidal. And yet,
there was the evidence of his pistol.
"Have you spoken to the others?" he asked suddenly.
"No."
"Okay. Call Mitsukai. I'll speak to Kuroi. Then -- if they're the
same, we're going to have some work to do."
He hung up without waiting for a reply, and called Kuroi. Kuroi, as it
turned out, had been about to call him.
--**--
The team met outside the Olympus building half an hour later. Masao
came with them this time. Hiiro hesitated before calling him in, but
eventually decided that it was worth a shot. The different viewpoint
might be interesting, if nothing else.
Hiiro had one more piece of evidence, too. As he was dressing, he found
a card wallet in his pocket. It held an ID for one Odaka Toichi, of the
Technical Enforcement Network. Hiiro had never heard of the
organisation, or of Odaka. But then, he had never seen the wallet
before, either.
Up in Pappadopoulos' office, it only took a few minutes of searching
before Kuroi found the first bullet hole. Not long after that, Masao
found a chunk of broken crystal that actually held a spent bullet.
Hiiro examined both, and nodded slowly. "Anyone want to bet what the
ballistics check will show?" he said, his voice light but his expression
sour.
"They came from our guns," said Aoiro flatly.
"Yeah, that would be my guess." Hiiro rubbed his face wearily, and
looked around the office. "God, what a mess. What the hell were those
crystal things, anyway?" He shook his head, then went on. "Okay. So
it looks like we were in a firefight last night -- and that's not what
we remember happening. I don't really want to consider what that might
mean, but ..."
"Our memories have been altered," said Kuroi. "Admit it, boss.
Somebody's been fucking with our minds."
Hiiro looked at him for a long moment. At last, slowly, he nodded.
"That's not certain yet, but ... yeah. It looks that way. We'll go
ahead and get that ballistics check run, I think; I want to be very,
very certain about this. Goddammit!"
He glanced around once more, then began issuing orders. "Mitsukai,
contact headquarters and get a forensics team out here. I want them to
go over every inch of this place. If somebody's been messing with us, I
want to know all about it. After that --" He pulled the card wallet
out of his pocket and tossed it to Mitsukai. "See what you can dig up
on this guy and his 'Technical Enforcement Network'. I don't think I
like the sound of it. What's wrong with your wrist?"
"Uh --" Mitsukai, who had been rubbing one wrist gently, froze.
"Nothing. I think. It's just sore this morning."
"Don't sleep on it, then. Right, what else? All of you, hand in your
guns; the ballistics team will need them. Kuroi, that means all three
guns, please, and don't make faces at me like that. Next --" Hiiro
gestured toward the office doors. "Spread out. Check over the rest of
the apartment, but keep it hands-off for now. Kitada, that means that
you personally don't touch *anything*. You'd only mess it up for the
forensics boys. Clear? Right, everyone, get going."
The team began to move. Mitsukai pulled out her commset and a portable
computer; Aoiro disappeared through the hidden door into the fire room;
and Kuroi headed into the rest of the apartment. Hiiro gave Masao a nod
and they followed him.
Barely two minutes later, Kuroi let out a call from the kitchen, and
Hiiro hurried to join him. "Smell the air," Kuroi said.
Hiiro sniffed. "Eggs," he said. "Somebody's been cooking."
"Yup. You think Pappadopoulos came back?"
"Who knows?" Hiiro made a face. "Hell, if our memories have been
changed, she could have walked in right in front of us wearing a tutu,
danced a rhumba, and then slept here all night, safe and snug in her own
bed." He cursed. "Damn it, I hate this, Ryozo. To think that someone
can just reach in and do things to your mind like that ..."
A clatter of footsteps behind them announced Masao. "The shower's wet,"
he said excitedly. "And it's a warm day. It must have been used pretty
recently."
Hiiro and Kuroi exchanged glances. "Check it for hair," said Kuroi.
They went into the bathroom and examined the shower carefully. Hiiro
used a pair of tweezers and lifted a long, fine hair from the basin,
laying it on a clean white handkerchief. The two of them examined it.
"Too long, and it's not white," Hiiro said. "Not Pappa-san."
"The Hayashi girl?" suggested Kuroi.
"Um." Hiiro used a lens to look more closely. "Isn't she a lighter
shade? This looks too dark to me."
Kuroi frowned. "Could be," he said. "Who else, though? You think one
of the Senshi decided to take a shower to cool off after blasting a few
monsters?"
"At this stage, nothing would surprise me. Let's get it tested, shall
we?" Kuroi passed him a small plastic bag and Hiiro used his tweezers
to slip the hair inside.
"Maybe Hayashi-san had someone around for a sleepover," said Masao.
The other two looked at him, and he flushed. "Uh. Not last night,
though. Right."
"At least you're thinking," said Kuroi sourly. Then he paused. "But
dammit, that reminds me of something. It's right on the tip of my
tongue ..." He scratched his chin thoughtfully, and said, "There hasn't
been anyone else here, has there? In the last few weeks?"
Hiiro shook his head. "Not since we've been watching. In fact, she
hasn't even ..." He trailed off. "Dammit, you're right. That does
remind me of something. Now, what was it? I wonder if --"
He broke off at a sudden buzz from his commset. He snarled, then lifted
it to his ear. "What is it?" he demanded. "I'm busy."
A voice at the other end cut him off. Hiiro listened for a minute, then
hung up without a word. He looked around at Masao and Kuroi, hesitated
for an instant, and then said, "Kitada -- here. Take this." He tossed
the plastic bag containing the hair to Masao, who caught it. "Take it
to headquarters. Tell them I want an ID. Clear?"
Masao nodded, his eyes widening. Hiiro paid him no more attention; he
turned to Kuroi and said, "Get Mitsukai and Aoiro. We've got business."
"Problem?" asked Kuroi.
"Yeah. Apparently the Senshi have murdered someone."
--**--
Masao watched the team rush out of the apartment, his mind boiling.
They didn't remember. Hiiro had said that he thought their minds had
been tampered with, but Masao hadn't really believed it. Now, he had
little choice. The truth had been right in front of Hiiro and Kuroi,
and neither of them had been able to see it.
He held up the little plastic bag again, studying the hair inside. It
wasn't the Hayashi girl's colour -- but it was Ochiyo's. And the two
men had forgotten all about her. Masao had watched them, seen them
struggle to remember ... and fail. She might as well have been erased
from their minds.
But Masao hadn't been at the Olympus last night. He remembered her just
fine. He even remembered that sometimes, she stayed the night in
Pappadopoulos' apartment.
He looked at the hair in the plastic bag again. Who had altered the
others' memories, and how? Most importantly, why? Why would someone
want 'S' Division to forget a teenage girl?
He could only think of one reason.
And again, in his mind's eye, he saw a white cat in a metal cage, and
heard the cat's words: [Being true to their hearts ... that's the long
and the short of it. That's what makes a real hero: someone who stands
true. No matter what.]
"You never mentioned having to betray the people who trust you," he
whispered to the phantom. "How true is that?"
[We all make our choices, don't we?] commented Artemis. [And stand by
them.]
Masao went into the guest bedroom, and spent a little time searching the
floor. Before long, he found what he was looking for and held it up to
the light to check. A long, wavy hair, of an unmistakable chestnut
colour. He nodded, and took a deep breath. Then he pulled the dark
hair out of the plastic bag -- using his own pair of tweezers -- and
substituted the lighter-coloured one he had just found. He re-sealed
the plastic bag and put it in his pocket.
"And stand by them," he murmured.
He left the apartment and headed downstairs, to take the hair in to
headquarters for identification. Rather to his surprise, he found
himself whistling cheerfully as he left the building. He had a feeling
that it was going to be a good day.
The whistling cut off sharply as a middle-aged man with short, greying
hair came up to him out of nowhere and stuck a gun in his ribs with a
broad smile. "Kitada Masao?" he said. "My name is Okuda Jiro. I think
we should talk."
--**--
Hiiro and his team met Lieutenant Kogecha outside the 'M' Division
building. Kogecha, a stocky woman with greying hair and a broad,
no-nonsense face, briefed them as they went inside, waving their IDs at
the security guards.
"Egami Shosuke was found dead in his home, about an hour ago. I
understand there were some ... oddities about the situation. He was one
of 'M' Division's --"
"I know who he was," said Hiiro sourly.
Kogecha gave him a quizzical look. "You were acquaintances?"
"A little more than that." Hiiro snorted. "Go on."
"Well. The real problem came when we got a report of *this*." They
reached an open door with two more security guards standing outside.
"Egami's office. Take a look, Captain."
Hiiro looked through the door, and raised his eyebrows. "Quite a mess,"
he said. The office had been comprehensively trashed. At first glance,
nothing larger than a paperback book had been left intact. He had never
seen a computer in quite so many pieces before.
"Okay, so you have a security problem," he went on. "But I'm not seeing
a Senshi connection yet."
"That comes next," said Kogecha. "Through here."
She led him to the next door down. Hiiro stepped through -- and stopped
short with a startled oath. Kuroi, following close behind him, peered
over his shoulder and started to laugh.
The new room was a sizeable workshop-cum-laboratory, and it was as
chaotic a ruin as the first; but if the vandals in the office had been
thorough, here they had been inventive. The centre of the room was
dominated by a pile of electronic equipment that seemed to have been
welded together into an unsteady tower. Other equipment had been linked
together in unlikely ways and allowed to tear each other to pieces, or
simply to short each other out. Some unnameable machine lying on its
side was leaking a thick, sticky liquid. Still further paraphernalia
had simply been smashed, but the wreckage had been carefully arranged in
what was almost a decorative effect.
On the wall, in metre-high characters that had somehow been burned into
the wood, were the words: "SAILOR SENSHI".
Hiiro found his voice at last. "I, ah, see what you mean," he said
weakly.
Kuroi laughed again. Aoiro and Mitsukai crowded into the room to look,
and Aoiro let out a short bark of laughter as well. Hiiro sighed and
exchanged a look with Kogecha. Thankfully, she didn't seem to think it
was funny. Or maybe she'd gotten it out of her system earlier.
"I assume our people have been through here already?" he asked.
She nodded. "Oudo's team left just before you got here. There was a
'P' Division group as well."
Hiiro let his expression tell her what he thought of 'P' Division. "All
right. How did they get in? And is there anything else, or is it just
these two rooms?"
"Uh. They came in through the window in the director's office. That's
been roughed up, too, but nowhere near as thoroughly as these. Looks
like fire damage, or maybe --" she shifted uncomfortably "-- lightning."
Hastily, she went on, "They did something to the building network; took
out the security systems and everything else as well. The techs still
haven't got it back up. Even the power was out, for a while."
"Pretty good, for a bunch of teenage girls," observed Hiiro blandly.
"Well ..." The lieutenant looked even more uncomfortable. "Supposedly,
I mean, the legends say Sailor Mercury was good with computers."
"I'll keep that in mind." Kogecha had some kind of phobia about Senshi,
Hiiro guessed, or perhaps just with the idea of super-powered girls in
general. He couldn't blame her. But he'd worked with her before; she
wouldn't let it get in her way. "I'll take a look at that office as
well, but I expect -- wait a minute. Did you say the *director's*
office? As in, Director Fukuda?"
She nodded.
"Oh, crap. Has he been informed?"
Another nod -- and a sympathetic look.
"Double crap." Hiiro screwed his eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of his
nose. "Any more good news? Or is that it?" She made a negatory
gesture, and he grimaced. "Hooray. All right, listen up, everyone --"
He raised his voice to address the others as well. "Oudo's forensics
team have been through the place, but we're going to do it all over
again, because we know a few things they didn't. Kuroi, Mitsukai, go
through this workshop. Aoiro, the office. I'm going to call in to
Colonel Shiro, then take a look at the director's office with Kogecha.
Report back in an hour, and then we're going back to the Olympus to do
*it* all over again, too. Clear? Now, move!"
--**--
Ninety minutes later they were on their way back to the Olympus. Aoiro
drove; in the shotgun seat, Hiiro was busy going through a folder. The
official report on Egami's death, delivered just a few minutes before.
"Anything interesting?" asked Kuroi over his shoulder.
Hiiro passed it to him. "Take a look," he said sourly.
Kuroi flipped through it. "Died of heart failure ... no apparent cause.
In good health ... blah blah blah. Traces of -- what the hell!"
"Ah," Hiiro said. "You got to the good bit."
"'Thin clear liquid running from both ears ... analysis shows traces of
*brain* tissue'?! Holy crap, what happened to him? Something melt his
frontal lobes?"
Hiiro did not answer, and after a second Kuroi added in a quieter tone,
"Shit. Sorry, boss. I forgot he was your friend."
"Matter of fact, he was the one who lent me the Interdiction
Controller," Hiiro said, his voice tightly controlled. "Another
interesting link, wouldn't you say?"
"You said it got smashed at the Olympus last night ..." Kuroi scratched
his jaw. "Come on, 'Ichi, you're not trying to say --"
"No, although it's probably what we're supposed to think," Hiiro
interrupted. "But do I believe that the Senshi killed him? Don't be
ridiculous. That business with writing their name on the wall -- that's
the work of a bunch of teenage girls, sure. But killing a man by
poaching his brains? I don't think so."
"So we've got another party at work."
"Yeah. But that's not what's bothering me." Hiiro paused, suddenly
reluctant to utter his thoughts aloud; but then he said, "Draw a line --
call it a *moral* line -- between carving your name in the wall, and
boiling a brain. Okay?" Kuroi clearly had no idea what he was talking
about, but he nodded. "Right. So, tell me: whereabouts on that line do
you put ... tampering with someone's mind? Is it relatively innocuous,
or is it a kind of rape? Or where, exactly, in between?"
Kuroi did not answer for a long time. At last he said, "I'm not sure I
can answer that."
"Me neither. One thing I can say for sure, though. There'll be
nothing public about it yet, but within the security forces ... the
Sailor Senshi have just jumped to the top of everyone's wanted list."
****************
Masao looked up quickly as the door opened. He had lost track of how
long he had been a prisoner so far, but he thought it had not been more
than an hour or two. They were keeping him reasonably comfortable; the
little room he sat in might have been an ordinary, two-star hotel room,
except that there were no windows ... and the door was kept locked.
His captor nodded to him, closed the door behind him, and sat down in
the room's single other chair. "Kitada-san," he said cheerfully. "My
name is --"
"Okuda Jiro," said Masao. He had had plenty of time, at least, to calm
down -- and to start thinking. "I remember. You work for the Hoseki
Property Group ... but you're really a member of the Sankaku clans."
Jiro was absolutely still for several seconds. Then he relaxed, though
some of the affable friendliness in his voice was gone. "Ver' good," he
said. "That captain of yours, I bet. He's a smart one. When'd he
mark me?"
"Never mind that," said Masao, annoyed. "Why've you brought me here?
What do you want with me? I don't know any big 'S' Division secrets."
"You know one big secret," said Jiro softly. "You know Pappadopoulos
Itsuko's real name."
Masao froze. He felt the little confidence he had managed to muster
trickle away. "I -- I don't know wh--" he stammered.
"Please," Jiro said. "Don' try. I been watching the Olympus ver'
close, for weeks now. Microphones ... cameras, too. Seen all kinds of
interestin' things." He paused, letting that sink in, before he went
on. "Di'n' see anythin' last night, no -- some kind o' static. But
this morning, well now. A certain Kitada-san, an' a certain plastic bag
... do I need to go on?"
"No." Unconsciously, Masao bit his lip. "What do you want with me?" he
repeated.
"Been doin' a little checking on you, Kitada-san." Jiro nodded twice.
"A little research, seein' how you look. An' you know how you look to
me, Kitada-san?"
"How?"
Jiro gave him a little smile that was curiously sympathetic. "You look
like a man ... who's startin' to think that maybe he's playin' for the
wrong team. That soun' like a possibility to you, Kitada-san?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Masao. Even to his own
ears it sounded weak.
"Yeah? We got one team who wants to arrest Itsuko-chan ... an' one team
who knows all about her, an' keeps his mouth shut. One team wants to
arrest the Sailor Senshi ... an' one team wishes 'em luck. So which
team you wan' ta be on -- really?"
Masao licked his lips. "And why should I believe a bunch of
terrorists?"
"Terrorists, hey? That what they really say about us?"
That gave Masao pause. He remembered, distantly, a meeting at 'S'
Division headquarters, when Colonel Shiro had suggested that, while the
Sankaku supported themselves by crime, in fact they were working toward
some other goal.
But what goal? Nobody knew.
"No," he admitted grudgingly.
"No," repeated Jiro. "So I tell you what, Kitada-san. I'm gonna take a
risk here. I'll tell you exactly who the Sankaku are -- not the story
we tell the raw recruits; the real deal. An' then we'll see what's
what, hey? 'Cause I been watching you for a while now ... an' I got a
feeling." He looked Masao in the eye, and said, "A feelin' that you
know who to stand by."
He paused expectantly, but Masao did not reply. Jiro nodded, as if
satisfied -- and then he told Masao the real story of the Sankaku.
And Masao, who as a student had once gotten a good grade in history,
thought about it ... and then told him "All right," and changed his
allegiance for the last time.
--**--
Later, as Jiro opened the door to let him out, Masao asked, "What should
I do now?"
Jiro chuckled, and said, "Why, you take that hair down to 'S' Division
so they can analyse it. After all, don' they need all the help they can
get?"
****************
In the middle of the afternoon, Makoto caught a bus over to her old
neighbourhood. She hadn't been gone all that long, really -- not even
three weeks -- but it was surprising how unfamiliar the place seemed.
She knew it all like the back of her hand, but it no longer felt like
home. Morbidly, she wondered if it would have felt the same way if her
name had still been Miyo.
She lingered in a little coffee shop until her watch told her it was
nearly time, and then stepped outside to wait, standing in the mouth of
a narrow alley between buildings. A few minutes later, a little way
down the road, a bus drew up and her sister stepped out.
Makoto breathed a sigh of relief. Miliko would be on her way home from
a netball match; she almost always caught this bus, but Makoto hadn't
been sure. She wondered if her sister's team had won. Three weeks ago,
before she had been disowned, she wouldn't have cared; but now it seemed
like the most important thing in the world. Miliko certainly looked
cheerful enough, so maybe they had.
In fact, she looked almost too cheerful, and suddenly Makoto's resolve
failed her. Maybe Miliko didn't care; maybe she'd already forgotten
about her big sister; maybe she'd shout insults --
No. No doubts. Miliko was approaching. As the twelve-year-old drew
level with the alley, Makoto reached out and pulled her in.
Miliko gasped, and drew in her breath to cry out. Before she could make
a sound, Makoto held up a finger to her lips and said, "Shh. It's me."
Her sister froze, staring up at her. There was no recognition in her
eyes, and after a second Makoto suddenly remembered how different she
looked now: her skin colour changed, her figure camouflaged, but most
significantly her hair cut short and dyed black. But then Miliko
blinked and said, hesitantly, "O-oneesan?"
Makoto released a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, and
said, "Yeah, Miliko. It's me."
She was hardly prepared for the impact of a small form, the weight, and
the crushing full-body hug. She staggered back against the wall of the
alley, hitting her shoulder painfully and toppling to the ground, and
only gradually became aware that Miliko, her head buried in Makoto's
chest, was saying, over and over again, "I'm sorry I'm sorry
I'msorryimsorryimsorry ..."
"Hey." She reached down and lifted Miliko's head. "Get off, Brat," she
said, her voice a little rough. "You're heavy."
Miliko sniffed. "I am not." But she slid off, and the two of them got
to their feet once more.
And then they stared at one another, and suddenly Makoto could think of
nothing to say. "Uh --" she began, and faltered to a halt.
Miliko solved her problem for her. "You look so different!" she said.
"Why? Is it because you're a Senshi now?"
"Uh," Makoto said again. She glanced down at herself. "No. I'm kind
of in disguise. And, uh, look, don't talk about the S-word stuff, okay?
It could get me into trouble."
She was thinking of eavesdroppers, and word getting back to the enemy;
she had not even considered how else that could be taken, until she saw
the shock and guilt in Miliko's face. Because, of course, it had been
Miliko talking about her being Sailor Jupiter that had gotten her
disowned in the first place.
"I'm sorry!" blurted out Miliko. "I know it's all my fault. I didn't
mean to, I promise! I never --"
"Hey," Makoto said. "I know. I'm sorry. That ... came out wrong."
She reached down and brushed moisture from her sister's cheek. "Listen,
Brat, I saw Fujimaro last week. I gave him my comm number and we were
going to set up a time to meet, him and me and you --"
"I know. He told me. But then, when he called, he got some kind of
wrong number, and he told me you were just playing jokes. He was really
mad. He said you --"
"It wasn't a joke, okay? Tell him I'm sorry. But things have ... kind
of gotten complicated. There are some people looking for --" She broke
off, shaking her head. "No, never mind that now. Look, here. I had to
move again, but this is my comm number now." She handed Miliko a slip
of paper. "And my address. Give them to Fuji, okay?"
Miliko took the paper, glancing down at it and then up at Makoto once
more. "Can we come see you?"
"Sure." Makoto had not actually cleared this with Seki, but abruptly
she decided, the hell with it. Family was important, and if Seki didn't
understand that, it was high time someone told her. "Just ... be
careful, okay? And call first. There really are some people looking
for -- well, not for me, I suppose, but the person I'm staying with."
"Why? Is it another Sen--" Miliko broke off, looking guilty all over
again. "Another one of you?" she finished in a stage whisper.
Makoto tried not to wince. "Not exactly," she said. "It's complicated.
I'll tell you if you come over ... maybe. Look, Brat, you may know
about *me*, but that doesn't mean I'm going to tell you about all the
others, you know?"
"Okay." Her sister nodded meekly, though Makoto was fairly sure that
the meekness wouldn't last more than a moment after she left. Then, in
a sudden rush, Miliko said, "Oneesan, can I -- can I tell the others,
too? Ichiyo-niisan, and Mommy, and Daddy?"
Makoto's heart sank. "Brat --"
"I know," her little sister went on, still almost stumbling over her
words in her hurry to get them out, "I know that Daddy made you go
away, but -- but Oneechan, he wants you back really, I know he does! He
never talks any more, and he always looks sad, and so does Mommy, and
... and ... and even if Ichiyo-niisan does get mad when anyone says
your name, I know he wants us all to be together again too --"
Makoto laid a finger over the girl's lips to hush her. "Miliko, I'm
sorry," she said gently. "I don't think that's going to work. And I
think you know it too, really, don't you?"
Miliko looked as if she were about to cry again. "But I want you to
come home," she said sulkily.
"We don't always get what we want, though. Sometimes bad things happen,
and ... and there just isn't anything you can do about it. And it's
pretty good where I am now, Brat. You'll like it when you see it."
The girl looked up at her mutinously -- and then her expression changed,
summer-quick. "Can I come now?" she begged.
"Um." Makoto thought about Seki's likely reaction, and chickened out.
"Better not," she said. "Maybe sometime during the week, after school?
Anyway, you still have to tell Fuji. He'd be pretty mad if you came
without him."
"Well, why not just tell him now, then!"
"Because he won't be home. He's always out Sunday afternoons. Duh!"
She rapped Miliko on the head and grinned at her. "Look, Brat, I can't
stay. It wouldn't be a good idea if anyone recognised me here. But
come see me, okay? Or give me a call sometimes. I don't want to give
you guys up."
Miliko gave her that mutinous look again. "Stay! Please? Don't go,
not yet. We could -- we could --"
Makoto reached out to rap her again, and then changed her mind and gave
her a quick hug instead. "I have to go. But I'll see you again, I
promise. Good-bye, little sister ..."
Then she released her and stepped out of the alley, hurrying down the
street. A bus was just pulling up to the stop; she had seen it
approaching from within the alley. She waved a hand to signal the
driver, and ran to catch it.
She felt eyes boring into her back all the way, but she did not look
around until she was safely on board the bus.
--**--
Miliko trudged home and went inside. She left her soiled netball gear
in the laundry and headed for her room to drop off the rest. Just a few
weeks ago, she had shared the room with Miyo, but now it was all hers.
A lot of the shelf space was still filled with plants, and she loyally
watered them every day. Some of them, waterlogged, were beginning to
droop.
As she passed through the living room, her eldest brother raised his
head. "Oi, Miliko," he said. "Saw you talking to that tall girl on the
street, as I went past. She a coach, or something?"
"No," said Miliko without thinking. Then she could have bitten her
tongue.
Ichiyo did not appear to notice. "Oh. What'd she want?" he asked idly,
not sounding particularly interested.
"Um ..." Her mind was blank. Miliko scrambled to think of something --
anything. "She was asking about the game today," she answered at last,
in a bright, false voice.
Still Ichiyo was not really paying attention. "A senior asking about a
middle school game? She must be keen." He did not really care, Miliko
suddenly understood. He just wanted to be talking -- about anything.
To break the silence.
Then, to her dismay, he said, "Didn't really notice, but I think I've
seen her before, somewhere. Funny ..."
"I -- I have to go," said Miliko, and fled into the kitchen.
Behind her, startled, Ichiyo turned his head to watch her go. "What's
eating *her*?" he muttered to himself, a little irritated.
She had gotten all bothered when he mentioned the girl in the street.
Now, why was that? Ichiyo thought about it, and suddenly his expression
changed.
****************
On Monday morning, Beth said good-bye to her parents and -- privately --
to her cat, and headed for school.
As she left, she saw more chalk marks on the pavement outside her gate.
Kids playing again! She gave an exasperated sigh. It had been *her*
who'd had to clean the mess up yesterday. At least this lot wasn't so
garish: a little circle, and the English letters "SW". She wondered
what it was supposed to mean -- south-west? -- but then forgot about it.
Still, maybe that was what started it, getting her thinking about kids.
There were plenty of them around, of course; Kawasemi School combined
middle and high schools, so there were students from eleven or twelve
and up, all heading the same direction. And yet, the entire way to
school, a fifteen-minute walk, she kept on getting the odd feeling that
one or two of them were watching her. There was nothing overt about it;
only, now and then, she would turn her head and imagine that she saw a
face looking quickly away.
She was just oversensitive this morning, she told herself grumpily.
Better to think about something more cheerful. Meeting Mark, for
example. The run yesterday morning had been quite pleasant, and if he
hadn't exactly asked her out, still she had at least managed to get his
comm number. Life was looking up.
Also, this was the last week before the summer holidays began. That was
a definite plus.
She had plenty of plans for the holidays. The Hiking Club's trip to the
Minami-Boso reserve was due in a couple of weeks: three days of tramping
through hills covered with heavy forest. Then there were films to see,
places to go, things to see, and books to read -- real books, not the
textbooks she'd been studying in her spare time. Maybe she'd go back to
her poetry; it had been a while since she'd written anything new.
And, when she got the chance, there was always hanging out with Bendis
and doing more Senshi training. It should be different, now that she
knew who she truly was. She was sure of that.
This chain of thought kept her agreeably distracted until she reached
school. There, she hunted around until she found Nanako and Eitoku, and
chatted with them for a while. The strain from a week ago was gone,
mostly, and they were back to the way they had been before.
Mostly. Now that she knew to look, she could see that Nanako and Eitoku
were together. Now that her eyes had been opened.
The bell sounded and they went in. Everything was normal; it was a
perfectly regular school day. Only halfway through the morning, when
their teacher remarked on it, did Beth notice that Iku was not there.
She mentioned it to Nanako at lunchtime. Nanako simply shrugged and
said, "Everyone's away sick sometimes, you know."
"Yeah, but Iku-san's away more than most," remarked Eitoku. Then he
turned his attention back to his lunch: some kind of fish salad that
Beth thought smelled horrid.
"But --" she began, and then stopped when she realised that she had no
idea what she had been about to say. Something about not feeling right
that she hadn't even *noticed*. After all, Iku was supposed to be her
friend, right? They were fellow Senshi -- though of course she couldn't
say that to Nanako and Eitoku.
"I suppose so," she finished lamely.
Nanako chuckled and said, "She probably just partied too hard all
weekend." Her voice was light, her smile cheerful ... but suddenly she
looked, well, tense, and her eyes would not seem to meet Beth's.
Eitoku noticed it too. "What's wrong, Nana-chan?" he asked.
"Nothing. Don't be silly." Nanako paused for an instant, then said, "I
was just thinking about ... parties ... at Iku-chan's house."
Eitoku snorted. "Hard to imagine. I don't think I've even seen her
smile more than half a dozen times." He grinned. "They're probably all
like that at her place. Quiet and dull. Hey, maybe they're secretly
Loonies!"
"Idiot." She swatted him, scowling. "No, I've been there once -- a
while ago, now. It seemed ... nice enough. Pleasant. Her mother was
friendly. You'd probably like her, Beth-chan."
"Um, okay." Beth was not sure where this was going. "So what's the
matter, then?"
"Nothing's the matter," Nanako snapped. "Everything's fine, Beth-chan,
everything's just perfect."
Then she looked up at Beth, meeting her eyes at last, and gave her a
peculiar smile. "Why, Iku-chan even had a pet once. A puppy. She
actually even named it 'puppy' -- 'Koinu-chan.' Isn't that cute? You
should ask her about it sometime, Beth-chan."
She stood up suddenly. Her fists were clenched. She said, to nobody in
particular, "I need a drink of water." Then she turned and walked away.
Eitoku watched her go, his mouth open. He glanced over at Beth and
said, "Excuse me," then got up and ran after her.
Beth was left alone, watching the two of them. She saw Nanako pause,
some distance off, as Eitoku caught up with her. The two of them
started talking, and went on together. Neither of them went anywhere
near a drinking fountain.
After a little, Beth said, "Huh?"
--**--
"So what was *that* all about?" demanded Eitoku.
"Nothing," said Nanako sharply. "I just couldn't stand --" She broke
off, looking away from him. At last she said, in an almost wistful
voice, "Do you ever feel guilty, 'Toku-chan?"
"Guilty?" Eitoku shook his head, uncomprehending. There were times --
quite a lot of times, to be honest -- when he simply could not fathom
Nanako. Her mind worked around sharp, twisty little corners, and
usually she seemed to be several turns ahead of him. "About what?"
Again she did not answer at once. Then, very quietly, she said, "I'm
not sure. I'm ... just afraid. I'm afraid I might be right."
"Nana-chan, I don't understand a single thing you're saying." He pushed
his glasses up his nose, and in that moment it came to him. "This *is*
something about Iku-san, isn't it? What is it? What do you feel guilty
about? This isn't like you --"
"She told me about her puppy once, you see." Nanako's eyes were still
far-off. There was a slight catch in her voice as she said, "And I've
been running away from it ever since. I suspected, but I ... I was
afraid. I didn't want to -- to look behind the curtain."
Abruptly she whirled and gripped him by the forearm. "But it doesn't
matter now. I've given Beth-chan the hint, and now she'll look and find
out what they're hiding, and then it'll be all right. She'll do it,
'Toku-chan. You may not think so, but Beth-chan is strong. Stronger
than me."
Bitterly, she added, "I'm no hero."
****************
Suzue went to school looking forward to an interesting day. She would
be gaining a new schoolmate, for one thing.
It had been a shock when Hayashi Miyo had become Hiyama Makoto, but a
pleasant surprise when she'd announced that she would be transferring to
Suzue's school. Suzue was sorry that the girl's life was being turned
upside-down yet again, of course; but all the same, the rather daunting
religious issues notwithstanding, she had come to like and respect
Makoto, and looked forward to helping her settle in.
It was a peculiar time to start a new school, just a week before they
broke for the holidays; but Makoto had been adamant. "Get it over
with," she had said. "Plus, this way I get to meet everyone without
having to worry too much about schoolwork for a while."
Suzue made sure that she arrived in plenty of time. When she got there,
she saw Keiko and paused inside the gates for a while, chatting idly.
They discussed their respective weekends, though of course Suzue left
certain details out of her own account. As she spoke, she kept an eye
on the school gates.
Five minutes later she saw Makoto walk through the gates, wearing a
brand-new Hibari school uniform: dull olive jacket and trousers with
copper piping on the sleeves, and a lighter blouse underneath the
jacket.
"Excuse me," she said to Keiko. "That's the girl I told you about the
other day. I should say hello."
"Oh, the new one?" replied Keiko, interested; but Suzue was already
heading away.
Makoto had stopped just inside the gate and was looking around, visibly
uncomfortable. When she saw Suzue coming she relaxed, smiling. Suzue
smiled back and said, "Good morning."
"Hi." Makoto glanced around again, craning her neck up at the main
building. "Looks a nice enough place ... I guess." Her mouth twisted
in a wry grimace, and Suzue gave her a curious look. Makoto said,
"Sorry. Bad memories. In my --" She dropped her voice. "In my last
life, when I was a teenager ... I changed schools a lot. This brings it
back, a little."
"I'm sorry --" began Suzue, but Makoto waved her quiet.
"Not your fault. Hey, don't worry; I'll be fine." For a moment, her
face hardened into something tough and cynical: the look of a girl who'd
seen it all and wasn't going to let it beat her. Seeing it, Suzue
wondered if she were glimpsing the past: Kino Makoto as she had been
before she met the Blessed Lady. But then Makoto's face softened once
more. She let out a breath, glanced at Suzue, and winked.
"So," she said, "brief me. What do I need to know here? Who are the
teachers to avoid? And --" Again, she grinned. "When do I finally
meet this boyfriend of yours?"
Suzue felt herself blush. "Minoru-kun is --" She caught herself. "Um,
maybe later? And the teachers --"
"Joking, Suzue-chan!" Makoto laughed out loud. "Well -- mostly joking.
Anyway, I don't really have time for anything right now. I need to go
to the school office and do all their paperwork, I guess."
"All right. The offices are this way --" They started toward the main
building, but a few seconds later the final bell went, and Suzue sighed.
"I have to get to class. Look, the offices are inside the main door,
on the left. There's a sign that says 'Secretary'; you can't miss it."
Makoto nodded. "I'll see you at lunchtime, all right? Good luck!"
"See you, Suzue-chan."
They parted, and Suzue turned toward one of the side entrances, closer
to her classroom. Still smiling, she was nearly at the door when she
felt someone grab her roughly by the arm.
"Suzue-chan," said her assailant, "you've been a bad girl."
She turned, bewildered, to see Kubota Rinako standing there -- and her
heart sank. Rinako had been one of Suzue's particular tormentors at
school for years now, ever since the day when a very young and naive
Suzue had stood up in class, introduced herself, and told them all what
she believed. Things had been pretty bad for a while back then. It had
tapered off eventually, and nowadays the physical bullying was a thing
of the past; but while it had lasted, there had been times when it had
been savage.
"Kubota-san?" she said, still confused. "What --?"
Rinako pushed her back against the wall, hard, cutting her off. "Saw
you talking to the new girl, Suzue-chan. Spreading the Loonie word
again." She shook her head. "Too bad; thought you'd wised up. Guess I
was wrong."
Suzue froze. A yawning chasm opened up in the pit of her stomach. This
couldn't be happening, not now! But the grip on her arm, tight enough
to hurt, was far too real, and with a shock she realised that she had
been too hasty in thinking it was all over.
"But -- no, you've got it wrong, Kubota-san," she said desperately. "I
wasn't talking to her about that, honestly! I was just saying hello to
her, and --"
"I'll bet." Rinako smiled lazily. She was a big girl, solidly built
and strong, with short, mannish hair. She looked stupid but she was
wasn't, not quite. Suzue knew that she had no chance of breaking free.
"Maybe that's even true," Rinako said, shaking her head. "Saying hello.
Softening her up before you try to pull her in. Is that what the other
Loonies teach you to do? Well, it doesn't matter now. The others will
make sure New Girl knows what's what."
Suzue stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending. Then she realised,
and looked around over her shoulder. Some distance away, near the main
doors, another girl -- one Suzue knew all too well -- had stopped Makoto
and was talking to her.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
She felt a cold chill as she realised what was about to happen, and far
too late, the words came back to her: [My advice would be to tell them
soon. The longer you leave it, the worse it will be.]
Now it was too late indeed. And as she thought it, as the realisation
sank in, she saw Makoto turn her head, look straight into her eyes ...
and even from this distance, she could see the shock and betrayal on the
girl's face.
Then Makoto looked away, and marched into the school building. She was
moving fast, her body stiff. Suzue made a frantic effort to break free,
to run after her, to try to explain -- but it was no use. The hand on
her arm did not budge.
"Now, now," said Rinako. "You can't leave just yet. We haven't
finished our chat."
With her free hand, she made a gesture, and three more students stepped
into view: two boys and a girl. Suzue knew them all, sometimes from her
nightmares. She looked around ... but there was nobody in sight.
Everyone else had gone in to class.
"I think," said Rinako, "that it's time for a little reminder."
She raised her hand, the fist clenched ... and the other three moved in
to help, and then the talking stopped, and the reminding began.
****************
"So," said Kin, "what's the big news?"
"Well, now." Dhiti studied her fingernails. "Where do I start?"
The two of them were sitting outside, underneath a broad, shady tree.
It was lunchtime and the grounds were full of students, but they had the
immediate area to themselves for now. A group of boys were playing with
a basketball not far away; Mark and Liam were among them. To Dhiti's
private delight, Liam kept throwing surreptitious glances in Kin's
direction. Even better, now and then she caught Kin looking back.
"I dunno," said Kin dryly, "but I'm sure you'll think of something."
She glanced around and added in a lower voice, "Is it something to do
with the Senshi?"
"Of course." Dhiti fixed her with an unblinking stare, dropped her
voice to match Kin's, and said, "Something happened to Hayashi on
Saturday night. She was suddenly kidnapped by aliens from the planet
Zelta and carried away to become their queen -- ow. You didn't have to
hit that hard, Kin-chan."
"Idiot. Just tell me, okay? Is Miyo-chan all right?"
"Um. She's fine, actually. She got into a bit of trouble, but we took
care of it." Dhiti rubbed her arm, and gave Kin a reproachful look.
"You could just call her yourself, you know. You've got her number."
"I know. It just ...feels weird. Having to call her a different name,
and everything."
"Try having to *see* her like that."
"Yeah, yeah. So what," Kin repeated, "is the big news?"
"Ah." Dhiti studied her briefly, and then looked up into the branches
of the tree, as if seeking for inspiration. "Actually, I'm not quite
sure how to put this. It's, er, about your boyfriend." She gestured
out toward Liam.
"He is *not* my boyfriend!" Kin said automatically. Then she paused,
and blinked at Dhiti. "Uh ... news about him? What news?"
"See, it turns out that ... that is, we kind of think that ... well, he
might be, er, Tuxedo Kamen reborn. You've been dating Queen Serenity's
husband, Kin-chan. Try not to let it go to your head."
--**--
"They're talking about you," said Mark in English.
"And why should I care?" replied Liam sullenly, in the same language.
"Oh, no reason. 'Cause, you know, it definitely doesn't mean she's
still interested in you or anything." Mark gave him a pained look.
"Bonehead."
"Yeah, well, that's probably what they're talking about, then: what a
bonehead I am." Liam caught the ball, did a fast sidestep, and took a
long shot at the basket. It missed hopelessly. "You too, probably," he
added.
Mark sighed. "Look, just talk to her."
"Oh, that's fine advice, coming from you! And how would you be coming
along, talking to Miyo Hayashi, then?"
"Dammit --" Mark ignored the basketball that shot past his head,
missing him by a hair. "That's not the same thing, and you know it. If
I could *find* Miyo --"
"And if Kin would talk to *me*," Liam said with a wintry smile. "She's
mad crazy, man. She tells me I ought to go join the Loonies, and then
she walks away and she won't talk to me since. What am I supposed to do
about that?"
"You could join the Loonies?" Mark suggested. A moment later, his grin
faded. "But she's still watching you, Li. She still watches."
"Maybe I should try a dashing secret identity," said Liam, his voice and
eyes distant. "With a top hat and cane. Sweep her off her feet, and
then --" He paused, and suddenly blinked. "What am I *talking* about?"
Mark studied him carefully. "I have no clue. Let me know if you find
out, huh?"
"God damn. Crazy dreams, and now this! I need a break. Thank God
there's only a week to go." Liam rubbed his eyes and stood for a
moment. When he spoke again, it was in Japanese once more. "You know,
Dhiti-san probably knows where Miyo-san is."
"Sure. Maybe I should try following her after school, huh?" Mark
grinned. "In my top hat and cane."
"Oh, get stuffed."
"There, you see? You're feeling better already. Look out behind you,
by the way."
In one smooth motion, Liam whirled and caught the basketball that was
about to hit his face, then jumped up and took a ridiculously long shot
from midair. The ball hovered on the lip of the hoop for an endless
moment, then went in.
"I suppose so," he said.
--**--
"Not funny, Dhiti-chan," said Kin.
"No," said Dhiti. "But this one's true. Sorry."
"But -- but --" Kin looked over to where Liam and Mark were arguing,
while their basketball game flowed on around them. "But he *can't* be!"
she protested. "He's --" She broke off, then said, more quietly, "Oh,
damn, he is, isn't he? He looks just like King Endymion --"
"-- Except for the hair," Dhiti finished for her.
"-- Except that he's a Claver," Kin finished at the same moment.
They glanced at each other. "Uh ... the hair," Kin said. "Right." But
then her eyes returned to Liam. "He can't be," she repeated, shaking
her head in denial. "King Endymion can't be reborn as a Claver!"
Dhiti glanced down at one dark-skinned hand. "Something wrong with
Clavers?" she inquired casually.
"Well, *duh*. Everyone knows you guys are out to conquer the world and
make the rest of us your adoring slaves."
"Oh. That ... was supposed to be a secret, actually."
"As if! You just wish --" Again, Kin broke off, her eyes straying back
to the young man in the playing field. "Oh, God. He -- are you *sure*,
Dhiti-chan? Really sure?"
"Sure? No." Dhiti shrugged. "But we were about to get our asses
kicked on Saturday night, Kin-chan, until Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen
showed up and bailed us out. And Tuxedo Kamen had a strong Eirish
accent. So what am I supposed to think?"
Kin looked at her with haunted eyes and drew a slow, ragged breath.
"God. It explains everything, doesn't it?" She paused, then went on,
"That night ... when we broke up. We were out on a date, and we were
just sitting in the park, and he had his arms around me and everything
was going just fine --" She flicked her eyes over to Liam once more,
then looked down. She was actually wringing her hands now. "And then
suddenly, out of the blue, he started whispering in my ear that ... that
I ought to grow my hair long again and do it up in ... in o-odango ..."
Dhiti stared at her for one incredulous moment. Then she started to
laugh.
"Damn you, Dhiti-chan, it is *not funny*!"
"Yes ... yes, it is, Kin-chan ..." Dhiti tried to stifle her mirth, but
without much success. "Yes, it is. Oh -- oh -- oh, my." She wiped her
eyes. "Really? He said that?"
"Yeah," said Kin, her lips tight. "It wasn't the first time, either.
So I got mad, and told him he ought to go join the Loonies, and he --
Dhiti-chan, he looked so confused. Looking back at it now, I don't
think he even realised what he'd said."
Dhiti thought about it, finally sober once more. "That might fit.
Hayashi said something about him probably not knowing who he was."
"Great. Just great." Kin leaned back against the tree, silent for a
few seconds. "So, I've been dating King Endymion ... the husband of
Queen Serenity ... and I can personally attest that he's a great kisser.
This is wrong on just *so* many counts, Dhiti-chan." She shook her head
glumly. "What am I going to do?"
Slowly, Dhiti started to smile. "I may have an idea."
****************
Between classes, as they passed in the corridor, Ochiyo saw that Suzue
was sporting a new brand-new black eye and a startling collection of
fresh bruises. She nodded thoughtfully to herself. This wasn't the
first time, though it was the first in quite a while. The work of
Kubota and her crowd, probably. She wondered what had set them off.
She and Suzue exchanged glances, and Ochiyo raised her eyebrows and
started to speak; but Suzue shook her head quickly and moved on.
Ochiyo continued to ponder the matter for the rest of the morning, in
odd moments when she could ignore the droning of the teachers. It was
clear that she needed to do something, but she was not sure what, yet.
It would help if she knew Suzue a little better. The two of them had
never been close, though; they'd spoken a couple times in class, but
that was all. Until Saturday night, when the other girl had revealed
herself, knelt at Ochiyo's feet, and offered homage ...
And with that thought, instantly, Ochiyo knew what she was going to do.
She even had an idea, at the back of her mind, that today was the
perfect day to do it. But that would be easy to check. When lunchtime
came, Ochiyo headed for the school library.
--**--
Makoto prowled the Hibari school grounds at lunchtime, feeling lonely,
bewildered, and (though she tried hard to deny this, especially to
herself) a little bit afraid.
The news had come as a horrible shock.
She had been nervous about starting a new school today; she'd had too
much experience with frequent transfers in her previous life. On the
other hand, it did mean an escape from the undeniable problems at her
old school, Aosagi. Plus there was only a week to go before the
holidays; and, most of all, she knew that there was a friend here
already. So in a way, despite the nervousness, she was almost looking
forward to it.
Then came those brief few sentences, murmured in her ear outside the
main doors this morning. They were ... startling. She did not really
believe them, not until she looked across the courtyard and saw the
stunned expression on Suzue's face: the horrified look of someone who
had been caught out. Then the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks:
that it was actually true. That a girl she had been starting to like
could be one of *those*.
Suzue was a Loonie.
It did not take long to confirm it. She only had to ask. Some of the
students she spoke to didn't recognise Suzue's name; not too surprising,
since they weren't in the same class. But a surprising number had heard
of her, and every last one of them agreed.
A Loonie. A member of the crazy cult that worshipped Queen Serenity.
Worshipped Makoto's *friend*, Tsukino Usagi; the very idea was enough to
make her feel queasy. She tried to imagine what Serenity would have
thought about it, and could only picture her face screwed up in a look
of shock and dismay. Heaven knew, Crystal Tokyo had had its share of
crackpots -- but at least they had spared the queen *that*.
Yet now, seven hundred years later, the unthinkable was among them. The
Senshi had a Loonie in their midst, one of their own number. The idea
was simply appalling.
Oh, everyone knew about the Loonies. They were generally shunned, and
for good reason. 'Crackpot' was the kindest name that could be given
them. They were the ones who handed out incoherent leaflets in the
street, or held crazy, impassioned rallies in public places. That much
was harmless enough, and mostly people just laughed at them. But there
were darker stories, too: articles in some of the newsies about people
who'd been kidnapped by the cult and brainwashed; or nightmarish
confessions of de-programmed ex-Loonies. Rumours of members who had
themselves surgically altered to look like the queen or her Senshi; the
very thought gave Makoto the shivers. Even whispers of assaults on
Clavers, supposedly prompted by the way Serenity had exiled to Nemesis
the malcontents who would not accept her rule. (The histories always
made the decision sound so cold. But Makoto had been there, and that
was not the way it had been. She remembered the agony of that time.)
Yes, mostly people just laughed. But often, there was a note of doubt
hidden in their laughter; an element of uncertainty, even fear. Because
there were aliens in their midst, madmen among them, and who knew what
they were capable of? Who knew what their crazy religion might prompt
them to do next?
Her head was buzzing. Makoto sat down in a shady spot overlooking the
tennis courts, but the sound of other students at play did nothing to
ease the turmoil in her mind. Try as she might to think of something
else, she kept coming back to the situation, again and again. Suzue was
a Loonie. A Loonie.
And that was not even the worst part.
Lies. Secrets, deception and lies; that was the core of it. Lies, as
she had learned, that cut like a knife. Suzue was a Loonie, and she had
hidden the truth from the rest of them.
The voice of her father echoed in Makoto's mind, dark and solemn: [A
lie of omission is still a lie.] She winced, half-closing her eyes as
if blinded by the sun.
A Loonie among the Senshi. A cuckoo in the family. Her father had
called Makoto that, too.
The truth came back to haunt them all, didn't it?
No. Makoto clenched her fists. She had to be missing something; there
had to be more than that. Suzue was a Senshi. She was Sailor Uranus.
Makoto could not just dismiss her like that. There had to be a reason.
She had to work it out.
She needed, she realised then, to talk to somebody. She thought about
calling Seki, but she already knew what Seki would say; she could almost
picture the explosion. She thought about calling Dhiti, but Dhiti would
only make a joke of it. Who did that leave, that Makoto could trust?
Artemis, perhaps; and at that thought, she felt a feeling of almost
palpable relief. The cat was not always reliable -- he had done a fine
enough job of messing up Makoto's memories -- but there was nothing
wrong with his judgement. She could go around to Dhiti's place after
school and talk the thing over with him. He would find a way to make
sense of it all, somehow. She was sure of it.
She glanced at her watch and saw that lunch break was nearly over.
Rubbing her forehead -- she had developed a headache -- she got up and
started back toward class.
Inside once more, the pain in her head eased and she walked briskly,
feeling almost relaxed. Then, some distance ahead, a door opened and
she saw Ochiyo coming out of a room that she vaguely recalled was the
library. Makoto blinked. In the midst of everything else, she had
almost forgotten that Ochiyo went to Hibari too.
Ochiyo had not noticed her, and Makoto started forward to greet the
girl. She was the ideal one to talk to about this whole situation,
after all; who could be better? But then, a moment later, Makoto froze
in place as she realised something else.
Ochiyo and Suzue had been going to the same school for a long time
already. They knew each other; they even shared a Home Ec class. And
everyone at this school knew about Suzue -- everyone. That meant that
Ochiyo knew too.
And she hadn't said a word.
More secrets. More lies.
Feeling more alone than ever, Makoto turned away. Her headache had come
back. She spent the rest of her break trying to find another way to
look at the situation, but she could find nothing. Turning it over and
over in her head, brooding endlessly ...
... And starting to get angry.
****************
Another closed session of the Serenity Council. The chairman grimaced.
They were becoming far too common, of late; but word had gotten out, and
the other councillors needed to be appeased.
At least Twelve wasn't here.
He sat down at the council table, sparing a momentary glance at the
small brass plate bearing the numeral '1' set into the table surface in
front of him. If he had been alone, he would have scowled at the sight.
Back before he'd become a councillor, he'd thought it was a good idea,
calling everyone by numbers instead of names. It emphasised the role,
rather than the personality; it said that they were here to do a job.
Now, though, all he could think was how dehumanising it was.
[As if we weren't inhuman enough already!]
He nodded to the other councillors, and they hushed. Only Two, Three,
Five and Seven were here today; they were the only ones who knew the
truth about 'M' Division. And even they, he sometimes thought, were too
many.
The chairman cleared his throat and said without preliminaries, "All
right. It seems you've already heard the news, so let me confirm it.
In brief: the Senshi raided 'M' Division last night. They found the
underground laboratory, and M herself has escaped."
No need to mention the matter of the Interdiction Controller to them.
That could remain his little secret for a while longer. Until he knew
exactly who to trust.
Number Seven was the first to react, as he might have guessed. "How
could you allow this to happen!" he whined. "How did the Senshi learn
about M? If *they've* got her now, we don't --"
Five looked around at him, and he cut off immediately. Seven had always
been a little afraid of the head of 'W' Division. But she only said, in
a mild tone, "Perhaps we should hear the whole story before we panic."
"Indeed," said the chairman. "Thank you. As it happens, we are quite
certain that M did *not* leave in the company of the Senshi. Her exact
method of egress is somewhat mysterious, in fact, though the latest
report I have suggests that --" he glanced down at a paper on the desk
before him "-- she somehow managed to fly out," he finished with a faint
frown.
"Fly?" exclaimed Three, startled.
"Indeed. After erasing her records quite thoroughly, I should add. We
still do not know exactly how she accomplished ... either feat."
"It hardly matters how she got out, does it?" asked Seven waspishly.
"What matters is that she's gone. That woman is a priceless asset to
Japan -- a one-woman technological lead over the rest of the world! We
created a whole division just to hide her, for heaven's sake. Without
her --"
"Let's not get carried away," suggested Two. As ever, he remained calm
and in control. "We've had M for twenty or thirty years, and I dare say
she's been valuable. But --"
"But nothing," Seven retorted. Scowling at Two, he said, "She invented
the Opal single-handed, how's that for valuable? They say only half a
dozen other mathematicians in the world can even follow the equations
for how the damn things work. Or how about Aracel? She did most of the
basic research that led --"
"My point," interrupted Two smoothly, "is that while her loss is
significant, it is hardly critical. We survived before her. We will
survive after."
"Always assuming it remains a loss," said Five thoughtfully. "Number
Three, I assume your people will be looking for her."
"Of course," said Three, nodding. "Her description has been circulated
through 'S' and 'P' Divisions. But you'll appreciate that we have to be
circumspect; we can hardly tell everyone that they're looking for the
Serenity Council's secret super-genius."
"What do you think of the chances of recapturing her?" asked Two. He
looked at the chairman, not at Three.
The chairman hesitated. "Quite good," he said after a moment. "The
physical evidence in her laboratory suggests that she left in a hurry;
it's possible that the Senshi's raid forced her hand in some way. So
she was probably not as prepared as she might have liked. Also, one
must remember that she has been our prisoner for a considerable length
of time. She may find the world outside her laboratory ... different
from what she expects."
"Exactly," said Three. "She'll be lost, alone, and bewildered. I think
our chances of taking her are excellent."
"Hm," Two said thoughtfully. "I wonder."
The chairman raised his eyebrows. "You doubt it?"
"I think that a woman with as formidable a mind as M would not have
escaped, in a hurry or otherwise, unless she had a definite goal in
mind."
There was a short silence. Then Five said quietly, "And there also
arises the question of whether she may try to work against us -- or may
be *used* against us. She knows a great deal."
"Mm. Enough to be inconvenient, yes." The chairman pursed his lips.
"What, then?"
"We need to anticipate. At a minimum, all 'M' Division security systems
should be updated immediately. By preference, all other divisions as
well." Five paused, and her lips quirked in the merest hint of a smile.
"We can claim it's in response to a Sankaku intrusion, I suppose."
There were nods around the table. Then, slowly, Two said, "I wonder if
we should go further than that."
Again, the chairman raised his eyebrows.
"Number Seven is right that M is an important technical loss. Not just
for the country, but for *us*. Genuine polymath geniuses of her calibre
are rare, and I dare say we've all benefited from her skills. But
there's an ancient proverb about eggs and baskets."
The chairman could not restrain a smile. He said, "And so?"
"Whether she's recaptured or not, I think we should move to reduce our
dependence on a single resource. We should significantly expand the R&D
facilities of 'K' Division. That will be a popular move in a lot of
sectors; putting money into science makes us look forward-thinking. But
we can take the same opportunity to expand 'M' Division as well, behind
the scenes. Start recruiting technical personnel in all specialities,
from all areas. Unconventional thinkers: people with imagination, not
career types. It will, at a minimum, leave us better positioned against
... well, against a number of fronts."
"Try to substitute quantity for quality?" the chairman inquired with a
dubious frown. "Not usually a very effective solution."
"No, but it's a good deal better than doing nothing at all. And if M
*is* recaptured, as our friend Number Three promises --" he shot a
sardonic smile at Three, who glared in return "-- then the effort still
won't be a waste. Basic research never is."
"There are those who would disagree." The chairman shrugged, then
nodded. "It's not a bad thought," he admitted. It dovetailed rather
nicely with some of his own thinking, as a matter of fact, though he was
hardly about to say that out loud.
"We'll need to raise this at a full Council meeting, and discuss a
budget with Number Four," put in Seven.
"True," the chairman replied. "But Four doesn't need to know about 'M'
Division, of course. I have discretionary funds there; actually,
there's no reason not to start recruiting immediately. In fact, there's
just one problem ..."
Two frowned. "What?"
"You want to expand 'K' Division -- but that's Twelve's department. So,
do you want to be the one to inform her, or shall I?"
The chairman watched, with well-concealed satisfaction, as Two's eyes
widened and the man actually turned pale. Around the table, Three and
Seven also stiffened and looked away. Five, he saw with interest,
showed no reaction at all.
"I take I should be the bearer of tidings," he said dryly. "Very well.
Is there any other business, before we close?"
"Yes, actually," said Five. "We still haven't talked about 'M' Division
itself -- and the security breach on Saturday night. How did the Senshi
know to go there? And what *else* have they learned?"
"Do they know about *us*?" added Seven.
The chairman nodded. "Yes," he said, "I believe so." Slowly, he began
to smile. "And about time, too."
--**--
The meeting went on for another twenty minutes, discussing implications
and ramifications. Very little of it was likely to be of any use in the
long run, but the chairman did make two or three mental notes of points
that had not already occurred to him. He did not write them down, of
course; his hands no longer had that kind of flexibility.
Afterward, he spoke privately to Three. "The idea of enlarging our
technical base is a good one," he said, "but there's a problem. Where
the 'M' Division expansion is concerned, we can hardly advertise what
we're recruiting people for! At least to begin with, I think we may
want to focus on people who already have a background in ... desirable
areas."
Three made a wry face. "You're saying you want to strip 'S' Division's
best technical staff," he said.
"Only some of them," the chairman replied calmly. "'D' Division, too,
and probably a few others. Come, now; you knew this was what we were
talking about."
"I suppose so," Three grumbled. Then his expression changed. In a very
different tone, he said, "Actually, this might be even useful. There's
a group in my division that's been ... getting a little too close to
some things they don't need to know."
"Well, then," the chairman said, smiling. "You see how easy it can be?"
--**--
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****************
Early on Monday afternoon, a middle-aged woman with long, lank grey hair
knocked on Nakada Akio's window. It startled him a little, because --
quite apart anything else -- he was sitting in a fifteenth-floor office.
He went over to the window and looked out ... and then down. She was
not standing on anything; she seemed to be hovering in midair. There
was a bulky device of some kind, like a large backpack, strapped to her
back.
He took another look. Nope; no jets of flame belching out from the
bottom of the device. It wasn't a rocket pack, then. Not that he'd
ever heard of a practical, functioning rocket pack; but you never knew.
She knocked on the window again: a gentle rap, this time. "Have you
seen enough yet?" she asked politely. Her voice was muffled, indistinct
through the glass, but he could make her out well enough.
He cleared his throat. "Ah ... yes, thank you."
"Could you let me in, then, dear? I can't stay here forever. Someone
down below will notice."
Was this some kind of fantastic practical joke? It was the sort of
thing Koji or Senzo would pull if they could, but how? He couldn't see
a wire. It suddenly occurred to him that if the woman were dangling
from something attached to the backpack -- or even if she were wearing a
real rocket pack -- she'd be hanging heavily from the straps. But she
wasn't. She might have been strolling gently down the street ... except
that her legs hung limply below her.
"Er. The window doesn't open, I'm afraid," he said.
She sighed, almost inaudibly. "Stand back, then. And cover your eyes."
She reached for something attached to her belt.
Akio hid behind the desk instead. He was not entirely stupid, and
however impossible this all was, he suspected that his office was about
to be filled with shards of flying glass.
There wasn't any explosion, though. Instead he felt a wave of heat roll
over him, and when he poked his head up again he saw a big hole in the
middle of the window. The edges were rippled and distorted, and a
little trickle of red-hot molten glass was still dripping from the
bottom down onto the carpet. The carpet was beginning to smoke quite
heavily.
There was a horrible smell for a few seconds, but then it was blown away
by the fresh air coming from outside. If this was a hallucination, it
was impressively detailed.
The old woman did something to a control pad strapped to her wrist. She
floated up a little, and then forward. She had to duck her head and
squirm a little to get through the hole without touching the sides.
Akio regained enough presence of mind to reach up and help her down to
the floor. He took the opportunity to pick up his drinking water bottle
and sprinkle the contents over the burning carpet.
"Thank you," the old woman said. She did something to her control pad
again, and suddenly the backpack sagged down on her back. Akio had to
put out a hand and catch her to stop her from falling. She was
breathing rather hard, he saw now that she was up close. Her face was
pale. And her hair definitely needed a wash. So did the rest of her,
actually.
"Um," he said. "Um ..."
She pulled a little piece of paper from her pocket and glanced at it.
"I do hope I've got the right office," she said. "Are you Nakada Akio?"
"Ah. Yes?" He was beginning to enjoy this, to tell the truth. It made
no sense, but it was delightfully whimsical.
"Of the Sankaku Clans? Cyber division, Shinpo clan?"
She smiled at him.
And in an instant, his befuddlement was gone, swept away by the rush of
cold fear that flooded through his mind. There was no *possible* way
she could know that. This was some kind of trap. And he was standing
here gawping at her like an idiot --
He staggered back, then whirled and tried to rush for the door. Before
he had got more than two steps, he heard a low humming sound from behind
him, and the door handle suddenly glowed a dull red.
"Now, now," the old woman said calmly. "There's no need for that,
dear."
He looked back over his shoulder. She was just standing there, watching
him. She was still smiling, though somehow the expression no longer
looked friendly.
"Who ... who are you?" Akio whispered. "What do you want? And ... and
how did you get up here, anyway?"
She nodded in approval. "Asking the right questions at last," she said.
"My name is M -- and as for how I got here, this thing on my back is a
personal Opal field generator."
It took him a couple of seconds to grasp what she had said. "Personal?"
he said stupidly. "There's no such thing. The, the multiplex phase
fields can't be made to focus that tightly. It's a physical law."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her smile changed for a moment, becoming
one of real pleasure. "Really," she said. "How interesting." Then,
sardonically: "I guess I can't have flown up here, then."
For no obvious reason, he found himself shivering. He suddenly realised
that he was afraid of her, of this mad old woman. There was something
unnerving in her eyes, and the way she knew far too much. Something in
the way she stood and smiled at him and spoke so politely -- and yet
kept her thumb firmly on her control pad.
"What do you want?" he asked again.
"Why, I've come here to talk to your leaders," she answered. Her smile
widened and seemed to change once more: to become something bright and
febrile and almost hungry; and involuntarily, he shuddered.
"You see, I think we might be of use to each other."
<< CONTINUED IN PART 2 >>
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angus MacSpon Email: macspon at ihug.co.nz
ICQ: 65719513 http://shell.ihug.co.nz/~macspon/
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