No subject

It was a spear.  A glowing metal spear.  She lowered it with her magic,
and in the warm lights of the room, the features of it became clear--the
shine of it, the reflections of the room...

The distinct shade of Asakura's blood.  Yuki held the spear there,
giving it no significance.  It was as inert to her as a piece of wood.

The colors drained from the room.  My knees went weak.

"Haruhi!"

The floor came rushing at me.

Then it was quiet.

+++

Last year, it was Kyon who gave me the idea for the brigade.  I didn't
know him very well then, but I'd figured it'd be pointless get him
involved until I had something concrete.  Over several days at lunch,
I'd walked all around the school, looking for potential members and a
place to make ours.  That's how I discovered the Light Music Club was a
group of five girls who wanted to drink tea and eat cookies all the time
and thought watching a music anime was enough to learn to be musicians.
But that's not the important thing.  I'd already noticed Mikuru-chan as
a potential target for the brigade.  All we needed was a place to meet.

That's how I ran into Yuki.

When I barged into the club room that first day, Yuki hardly batted an
eye.  I asked her about other members of the Literature Club.  She said
there were none.

"So if I used this room for a new club, you wouldn't have a problem?" I
asked.

"None."

"You're sure?"

"Go ahead."

"I won't give it back!"

"I understand."

She didn't put up very much resistance, did she.  The only thing I felt
on leaving that room was her eyes on me--that somehow, through her
gray-rimmed glasses, she was watching me.  I'd turned around, and she
flipped a page in her book, none the wiser.

At the time, I think Yuki as big a find as the club room itself.
Someone so shy and quiet probably had a keen interest in extraordinary
things, if only so she could imagine herself as someone else in fiction,
in fantasies.  She was solid, always compliant, never complaining like
Kyon or hesitant like Mikuru-chan, but never blithely supportive like
Koizumi-kun either.  She was herself, and that's why I thought her
indispensable.

When the new school year came and no one stuck around to join the
Literature Club, I wondered if I'd robbed Yuki of something.  There we
were, setting a high bar for new brigade members, but Yuki's Literature
Club would be a club of one for another year.  She never said anything
about it--I knew she wouldn't--so I thought for a while.  I told myself
the four of us were as good or better than forty random friends for
Yuki, so there was nothing to worry about.  I made sure to care for her
when she was ill, and though she said even less than usual at the time,
I could tell--I _thought_--she was appreciative.  She doesn't smile.
She doesn't frown.  She doesn't laugh or cry.  She can be so blank that
maybe, in looking for reactions from her, I saw what I wanted to see
instead.

If she's an alien, who says she has to feel anything at all?

These were the thoughts swirling in my dreams, and as I came to from my,
um, unexpected nap, they didn't go away.  It was dark in the place I
awoke, save for a sliver of light from the main room.  Yuki and Kyon
must've carried me to bed.  There was a warmth and humidity in the air,
a steam that brought with it the scent of tea.  I sat up.

"Thank you, Nagato," said a voice in the other room.

Silence.

"All these times I've relied on you--I need to pay you back someday."

Silence.

"A trip to the library?"

Silence.

"Something wrong?"

The response was quiet, like a whisper.  "Suzumiya Haruhi is awake."

Nothing gets by an alien, does it, Yuki?

"Haruhi?  Are you...?"

Yeah, Kyon.  I am.

"There's a seat for you out here," he said.  "If you're ready for it."

Oh, sure, sure.  A little nap, and I feel as good as new.

"You fainted."

Napped.

"Fainted."

Napped!

"Napped."

Fainted--wait, damn!  Kyon, you're smiling out there, aren't you?
You're laughing just a little bit, aren't you?

"Haruhi... there's tea out here for you, too."

Ah, of course.  Sit down, have a cup of tea.  It's not like the world's
changed overnight.  It just feels that way because I didn't see what was
in front of my eyes.

I left Yuki's bed.  The main room was bright; I shaded my eyes with my
arm, but there, at the table, were Yuki and Kyon, sipping gently like it
could be any other day, but it wasn't.  Yuki's an alien, and Kyon knew
for how long?  Since Asakura attacked him a year ago?

"A little longer than that," he said, "but that's about right."

Yuki and Kyon sat across from each other; I took a third seat on the
side.  Kyon was anxious and unsettled.  He held his cup by the rim and
stirred it with a swinging motion, watching the fluid slosh about.  Yuki
stared through him, impassive and still.  She acts a little strange, but
you'd never think she wasn't human just by looking at her.  Her chest
rises and falls as she breathes.  I guess we, as people, can't conceive
of something looking like us but being utterly different.  We don't
expect that to be real.

But that's enough tough thinking.  Kyon and Yuki, you guys came to me,
didn't you?  You didn't bring me here just to say, 'Hey, you know Yuki?
The quiet little bookworm girl?  She's actually an alien.'  You could've
done that a long time ago.  Something about what happened with Asakura
or Mori-san--something about what I realized I could do--that's _making_
you tell me.  Am I wrong?

"You're not," said Kyon, putting down his teacup.  "After Nagato stopped
Asakura at the stadium, she told me what her boss--the Integrated
Data... mouthful of a name."

"Integrated Data Sentient Entity," said Yuki.

"Right.  Nagato told me what the Entity was up to, why he let Asakura
loose.  Apparently Mori-san's bullying tactics worked so well on you
that the Entity decided to act."

It decided to slaughter fifty thousand people?

"The Integrated Data Sentient Entity has existed since within three
hundred microseconds of the birth of the universe," said Yuki.  "Since
then, it has observed countless phenomena, encountered billions of
intelligent species throughout the cosmos--"

"And discovered how many licks it really takes to get to the center of a
Tootsie Pop," said Kyon.

"The Integrated Data Sentient Entity and its interfaces can manipulate
data in any environment, giving us powers that seem impossible or
limitless to the human mind, but in truth, there is something we cannot
do--we cannot create data from nothing.  We cannot make existence where
there was none.  The Integrated Data Sentient Entity had regarded this
limitation as fundamental to this universe."

I shivered.  Whenever Yuki says more than a few words at a time, it's
usually something you absolutely should listen to, but all this
gibberish could be hard to digest.  Never mind that it sounded like
something that could come out of one of Yuki's science fiction novels.
Why should an alien be so interested in humanity's pathetic attempts to
dream up what could come from the stars, anyway?  To laugh at how
narrow-minded we are?  That wouldn't surprise me, but it doesn't sound
like Yuki, either.

Then again, what _do_ I know about this pale little girl beside me,
anyway?  Probably not as much as I think.  Let's focus on what she's
saying, then.  So Everything in the world is made out of data.  This
Entity of Yuki's can change data however it wants, but it can't make new
data, and it thought no one could.

It _thought_ so, but it was wrong.  It doesn't think so anymore.

"Correct.  Four years ago, the Integrated Data Sentient Entity detected
a flare of new data.  The data is incoherent.  The Integrated Data
Sentient Entity cannot understand it, but the source is known to us.  It
resides on this planet, which had been thought ordinary for both its
properties and inhabitants.  For efficiency, the Integrated Data
Sentient Entity constructed this interface and others like it.  That is
why I am here.  That is why Asakura Ryoko is here.  Our form facilitates
communication with humanity and observation of the source.  Over the
last four years, we have carried out this directive, studying the source
of new data.  Until five days ago, these flares of new data would come
at unpredictable intervals.  Now, their creation exhibits a clear
pattern.  They're made in response to the source's will."

Because five days ago, she didn't know what she could do.  She'd been
doing it for a while--years, if you're right, Yuki--never suspecting,
never knowing what her thoughts could accomplish, what power they
wielded.  Five days ago, she wanted a soda from the vending machine and
was just fifty yen short.  Such a small, insignificant, petty thing.
It's because it was small and insignificant she could believe there was
something more going on.

"You picked up on that quick," said Kyon.

Come on; it's not like I'm stupid.  I wouldn't be sitting here if this
had nothing to do with me.  The only reason aliens are here is because
of me.  The only reason espers are around is because of me.  That's what
it is, isn't it?

"Correct," said Yuki.  "The Integrated Data Sentient Entity is unwilling
to let you suppress your abilities.  It wishes to continue observing you
in the hope that it will learn from you some way to create new data
itself.  The Integrated Data Sentient Entity has processed much data
over fourteen billion years, but it regards its existence as static and
unchanging as long as it is confined to analyzing what is already
present.  To grow and expand its capabilities, the Integrated Data
Sentient Entity believes you are the key.  To ensure the continued
ability to observe, Asakura Ryoko has been assigned the task."

What task?

Yuki turned, looking straight at me for the first time that night.

"Negotiation," she said.

+++

What Asakura would negotiate for was clear--my powers or some way to
study them.  Kyon and Yuki were in agreement on that.  What she could
offer in return neither would say.  Honestly, it sounded a bit like
Mother's bargaining habits.  One time, we'd gone to Okinawa, and she
wanted to buy a shirt to take back home.  From three thousand yen to
start with, she haggled the vendor down to one, scolding him for
everything from shoddy workmanship to the scraggly shadow of his beard.
I guessed two thousand yen was what he'd be willing to pay to make her
stop.  Everything has a price.

Especially in a deal with the Devil.

We spent the rest of the night talking--Kyon and Yuki and I.  It's
amazing how, with an alien around, what you think happened isn't the
whole truth.  A string of home runs wasn't luck or hidden skill.
Defeating the computer geeks at their own game could only be considered
fair play given how they cheated, but it was Yuki who made both of those
happen.  It was Yuki who guided us from that snow-covered mansion when
other aliens tried to interfere with her.  She saved Kyon from Asakura,
just as he said.

That means I was wrong about Yuki.  Everything I thought about her I
made up.  I had this image of a person--a shy, utterly silent girl who
buried her nose in books to get away from the world.  She wore the face
of a statue, never showing what she felt.  She had to do that because
she was afraid to, right?  Because if she started laughing or smiling,
we'd all take notice, and it'd draw attention to her.  She was a deep
and complicated and interesting character.

And it all couldn't be further from the truth.  Most of it, anyway.  I
mean, I asked her what her name was, what the other 'interfaces' would
call her if they didn't have to speak Japanese or anything like that.
She opened her mouth, and a bunch of gibberish came out, a mess of
warped and distorted sounds.  That was pretty cool, I guess.  It sounded
kind of like the language of Lovecraft.

Kyon snorted.  "More like the language of JavaScript."

That's right.  Yuki was different, but Kyon was still Kyon through and
through.  Okay, I didn't expect him to keep an entire alien race from
me, but that didn't change who he was, just what I realized he was
capable of.  Regardless of who he dealt with, Kyon would still act a bit
contrary to what they wanted, whether it was Mori-san's espers, Yuki's
Entity, or this time-traveler woman he told me about.  Good to know, I
guess, that it wasn't just my orders he had trouble with.

"You know, Haruhi," he began early that morning, while Yuki went to
refill the teapot, "it's not just Mori-san who's an esper or A--er, that
woman who's a time-traveler."

Of course not.  There have to be bunches of them, right?  You already
told me about this Agency.  I bet the time-travelers have some sort of
organizational name, too, right?  Or are they just called Time Lords?

"They're not--"  He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead.  "Do you
remember, last spring, we were supposed to search the city, but only you
and I showed up?"

Vaguely.  As I recall, you said something stupid that pissed me off, so
I left.  You want me to pick up the bill now?

"Not quite.  What I said was that there _were_ aliens, time-travelers,
and espers around, hiding in plain sight."

Okay, I guess I remember that.  And I guess I can't be mad at you too
much because you were right.  You should've brought some proof though,
and not just made some wild accusation like--oh, what was it?
Mikuru-chan being a time-traveler, Koizumi-kun being an esper, and
Yuki--

Yuki _is_ an alien.

"We decided, after Nagato ended Asakura's attack, that something had to
be done.  Asahina-san didn't want to.  Koizumi was hesitant, but after
what Mori-san did, he owes me.  He owes you.  He--"

Shut up.  Shut up shut up shut up!  What are you doing, Kyon?  Why are
you saying these things?  You can't just keep doing this, saying
whatever you want.  You've taken Yuki away from me.  The silent,
bookworm character she's supposed to be is a sham!

"What are you talking about?  Nagato's still the same as always!"

That's the point!  She's the same to you, but I have no idea who that
person is!  And now you're telling me Koizumi-kun and Mikuru-chan are
the same?  That I don't know them?  That everything the five of us have
done is a lie?  Why the fuck would you say that to me?  Why?

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that!  Settle down, all right?"

A teacup clinked on the table.  Yuki started pouring before I could say
a word.  "More tea?" she asked.

That's not a bad idea.  I took the full cup and poured it straight down
my throat, piping hot.  That burning sensation unknotted my stomach and
made it just a bit easier to breathe.

Okay.  I'm okay.  There's nothing wrong here.  There's just Kyon making
a terrible, terrible joke.  Koizumi-kun can't be an esper; Mikuru-chan
can't be a time-traveler.  Then it'd all be just like our movie!

Kyon made a face.  "I guess it would be."

+++

Asakura would be expecting us bright and early, so I called home to
Mother, telling her I'd stay the night at Yuki's.  That Kyon would stay
the night too she didn't need to know.  Some less wholesome people might
think that two girls and a boy all alone in the same apartment a recipe
for indecent behavior.  I don't know what Kyon and Yuki were thinking,
but I wasn't in the mood.  Maybe it'd be different, if a time-traveler
showed up at my door, saying he knew me in the future and wanted to see
my younger self.  I could accept that, but not if I knew him already, if
I found out I'd seen him almost every day and he never said a word.

That morning, Yuki made breakfast for the three of us.  Apparently, she
woke up at six and realized she had nothing but canned goods to treat us
to, so she went to the market bright and early.  To think an alien would
care how we cook or want to show us hospitality!  Were I on an alien
planet, I wouldn't bother with such things.  Their food would probably
be poisonous to humans, the fires they cook with lethal to within ten
meters.

But this Entity of Yuki's--it made her more or less human.  I say "more
or less" because, well, knowing she's an alien, you have to see her
differently.  That stolid gaze of hers really is meaningless.  Her
silence isn't the product of an overbearing, utterly strict family.  She
was made that way.  She was programmed.  If I were programmed that way,
I'd be stomping mad about it, knowing what real humans can do that I
can't or don't.

Maybe she was programmed not to be mad about it, either.  They sure made
that Asakura all smiles and charming.  When she was around at school, I
found her so annoying.  That act of being responsible and caring about
everyone--I just thought it so fake.  I thought to myself, No one can
possibly be this considerate of other people.  No one's that selfless.
It has to be for her own enjoyment somehow.  It has to be a facade.

The three of us went together, leaving Yuki's apartment traveling along
the outer walkway on the seventh floor.  Even though it wasn't really
his concern, Kyon insisted on going.  "It's not like I'm dying to hear
what Asakura has to offer," he said, "but I've had a part in this mess,
and it's best to see it through."

Noble words from Kyon--poetic, even.  They must've been inspiring, for
Yuki followed him silently, close enough to cling to his shadow.  You
really don't know what Asakura's going to say, Yuki?

"..."

They don't really tell you much, huh.

"Nagato and her boss haven't been on good terms since December," said
Kyon.  "The only thing keeping her here instead of being punished is the
threat of what might happen if she were gone."

What might happen?

"I guess I should say it's the threat of what you might do to get her
back."

These are her family problems?  And here I thought it was just a pair of
overbearing parents back home.

"If only."

So?

"So?"

What did Yuki do to make this Entity of hers so angry?  What's so bad
that the only thing keeping her here is my protection?

Kyon glanced over his shoulder at Yuki, who met his gaze.

"It was a bug, I guess you'd call it," he explained.  "A systematic
error or some such.  It made Nagato behave... erratically."

In December?  Near Christmas?  I don't remember anything like that.
What happened, Yuki?  What did you do?

Kyon had faced forward, dodging a half-open door.  Yuki bowed her head,
her expression like a statue's, save for her eyes--they closed slightly,
maybe a millimeter?  Less?  She didn't say much to explain that.  Just
one thing:

"I wished."

I wanted to ask a barrage of questions.  You can't just wish; you have
to wish for something.  What would an alien want for herself?  Freedom?
Humanity?  Both of those would be way too close to how people think
about things.  You can't possibly understand an alien intelligence in
those terms.  You have to explain, Yuki!

"She's here."

I followed her gaze to a shadow on the walkway.  With the light of the
morning sun behind her, Asakura Ryoko sat atop the railing.  With her
fingers, she twirled a long, shiny, glinting object the way a child
would play with a pencil.

"Get back!" cried Kyon.  "She's got a knife!"

Asakura tilted her head.  "Oh, you mean this knife?  Tell me:  do you
really think you know what I'm going to do with this knife?"

"I don't want to find out!"

"Pity."  She cupped her free hand, lowering the knife between her thumb
and forefinger.

Crack!

Crack, crack.  Hard, dried pieces of a pistachio shell littered the
floor.

"These sensations humans enjoy..."  She popped the bare pistachio into
her mouth.  "... they're very curious!  I might have to try more of
them.  What do you think?  Should I spend all my free time watching
someone, recording their every move and word?  It might give me some
sort of sensation."  She touched her breastbone.  "Right here, is it?  I
do think that would help me understand Nagato-san better.  Isn't that
so?"

People thought I was strange?

"Just say what you came to say and leave us be," said Kyon.  "And put
that knife away!  If you came here to talk, you don't need it.  If you
came here for something else, then we have no reason to stay."

The knife disintegrated from Asakura's hand, dissipating as particles
lost in the wind.  "You're quite right," she said.  "I have no need for
that weapon.  A knife is a crude way to alter your data integrity, and
though I've taken a liking to it, there are much more efficient ways to
affect change in this universe.  Nagato-san, you know it too, don't
you--the concept of which I speak?"

Yuki nodded, ever-so-slightly, fixing her eyes on Asakura.  "An idea,"
she said.

"That's right.  As data creatures, we know this all too well.  An idea
is like a virus:  resilient, highly contagious.  The smallest seed of an
idea can grow.  It can grow to define or destroy you."

"You should get sued for that," said Kyon.

Asakura smiled, as if Kyon had complimented her hair.  She looked at me.
"You know this, too.  We've been watching you for a long time.  I like
to think we understand you very well.  Do you know the idea that drives
you, Suzumiya Haruhi-san?"

I get the feeling you're going to tell me with some faux philosophical
statement that can be interpreted a hundred different ways.

"That this world is a sea of identical, unimaginative creatures, all of
whom think themselves unusual or interesting, yet none of them are.  You
don't wish to be like them.  You don't wish to know people who are like
_them_.  You think idea that drives you is this:  'I want to be special.
I want the people around me to be special.' "

Who are you to pretend to know who I am and what I want?  So what if
that's how I feel?

"Quite the contrary," said Asakura, "it's an admirable sentiment, but if
you believe what these two have told you, you already know both of those
wishes have come true.  You _are_ special, Suzumiya-san.  The people
around you are special, too, yet you don't seem happy about that at all.
Why aren't you happy, Suzumiya-san?"

Happy?

Am I happy?

Yuki's an alien.  Espers and aliens have been watching me.  I have this
power--maybe it's amazing, but even I'm scared of it.  Kyon isn't
anything; he's not a slider or a time-traveler or anything of that sort,
but he's been keeping all this from me.  Am I happy?  No, I'm not.  I
don't think most other people would be trilled right now, either, so
what does it matter?

"Don't talk to us pretending to care about Haruhi's feelings," said
Kyon.  "You don't know the meaning of the word."

"I admit I don't, but unlike you, I won't pretend that Suzumiya-san's
feelings are unimportant, either.  If the Integrated Data Sentient
Entity can give her something of emotional value, who are you to tell
her it's meaningless?  The only one who can decide that is
Suzumiya-san."  She hopped off the railing.  "Come with me; see for
yourself.  We have much to show you; you won't regret it.  That's a
promise, you know!  If you want me to swear by it, I'll gladly do so."

"Haruhi, don't go with her; you can't trust her!" cried Kyon.

Asakura narrowed her eyes--it was the first sign of visible annoyance,
of anything other than a purely pleasant expression, I'd seen on her
face.  "And you have no say in the matter.  Nagato-san will tell you so.
This discussion is between Suzumiya-san and me."  She gripped my hand
like an iron claw and yanked me to her side.

"No, Haruhi!"  Kyon reached out, grasping at air, but it was Yuki who
held him back.  She clenched his coat with a tight fist.  He kicked at
the floor, but his shoes lost traction.  They squeaked.  They slipped.

"Don't worry."  Asakura looked at me with that unwavering smile again.
"This will be fun.  I promise!"

There was a low, warbling sound.  The world went black.

+++

When I was younger, my family sometimes took me to the public pool.
Other kids liked to splash each other or throw inflatable balls around,
but not me.  I'd go to the deepest water, grab the ledge, and force
myself to the pool floor, letting out every bubble of air from my lungs
to stay there.  Beneath the surface, the world was foreign and strange.
The sunlight refracted through passing waves, forming patterns of lines.
If the water were particularly cloudy, you couldn't see more than a
meter in any direction.  The pressure weighed on you; it made your ears
pop.  In the summers, that was the closest I could come to visiting an
alien world.  I don't know when we stopped doing that, but I haven't
forgotten.

That's why, when I woke up on hard, dusty ground and my ears popped, I
knew we weren't in Japan anymore.

"A very astute observation, Dorothy-san."  Asakura Ryoko leaned over at
the waist, her hands behind her back.  She peered at me, smiling, the
way a terrible dog owner might look down on his beast.  "This is indeed
neither Japan nor Kansas.  Now, tell me:  do you need me to explain
where we are, or is it something you can guess for yourself, hm?"

I stood up, and immediately, I felt heavy.  The air was pushing me down.
My muscles strained to keep me on my feet.  My heart beat faster,
struggling to keep the blood moving through my veins.  A translucent
purple dome surrounded Asakura and me, about two meters from center to
edge.  Beyond that, the sky was orange and billowing, with an occasional
faint flicker of something like lightning.

"Oh, your body is having trouble adapting to this place?  That's a pity.
Actually, the outside conditions are much worse."  She placed a hand on
the interior of the dome and pushed, but the barrier reacted like a
sponge, pushing back with spring-like force.  "The atmospheric pressure
is over ten times what it is on Earth, and the acceleration from gravity
on the surface is around twice what it would be there, too.  It's three
times hotter than what you'd consider a warm summer day.  There is no
water.  There is no oxygen.  There's just choking acid that would turn
your lungs to goo.  Isn't it wonderful, Suzumiya-san?  It's an alien
world!"

Fantastic, you've taken me to another planet just to strand me here and
kill me?

"Don't be so silly.  The barrier is protecting you from the bulk of the
truly lethal effects.  As long as you stay in it, you won't die--at
least, not too quickly.  We only hoped this staging area would give you
the chance to reconsider your position, to acclimate yourself."

Acclimate myself for what?

"For going outside under your own power, of course.  Surely you wouldn't
leave an alien world unexplored, would you?"

What if I do?  You seem to think you know exactly what I'll try to do.
What if I want to disappoint you instead?

"That'd be terribly uninteresting--not just for me, but for _them_,
too."

Them?

She looked up and back at me, signalling I should follow her gaze.  I
turned sideways, keeping Asakura in the corner of my eye.  In the
distance, about ten meters off the ground, was this helicopter-like
thing.  It was small.  It flew with four spinning rotors.  It bobbed up
and down with the currents of the wind.

"They want to meet you," said Asakura.  "I already told them you were
coming."

They're intelligent?

"Very much so.  Perhaps nowhere near the technological level of humans,
but that only reflects how long they've been around and how many chances
they've had to build upon knowledge gained from one generation to the
next.  I think, if you explain yourself, they'll understand you just
fine."

I'm supposed to speak to them?  Do they understand some special sign
language?  English?  Spanish?  Visual C?

"You'll figure it out, just like you'll figure out how to walk outside
this barrier without being crushed."

What if I don't want to?

" 'Don't want to'?"  She tilted her head, puzzled.  "Why wouldn't you?
I've taken you to a bizarre alien world, and you'd rather stay in this
safe, sheltered little bubble?  That's not like you at all,
Suzumiya-san, but if you insist, I won't try to stop you.  This dome
will persist for twelve hours, at which point I'm bound to return you to
Earth anyway.  You can stay here for all that time if you like.  I'll be
happy to watch either way!"

'Watch'?  Watch what?  Where are you going?  If you're just going to
disappear, I'd expect at least a little warning.  Don't you go _poof_ or
something, like a spirit or a fairy?

But she was gone, and with no puff of smoke or muffled sound to give her
disappearance away.  There were only the faint hum of the bubble and
maybe, just maybe, a trace of Asakura's demented giggle, like it were
stored there to deliberately creep me out.

Don't tell Asakura this, but... it was kind of working.  I think it's
human instinct not to sit still in a dangerous place.  It's probably a
myth or some kind of self-deception--the idea that, if you're moving,
you're in control of your fate somehow, that you're not sitting and
waiting for the world to strike at you.  Caged in that purple bubble, I
paced around, fidgeting.  My heart beat fast.  It had to, didn't it?
That didn't help matters, either.  You call this safety, Asakura?  After
twelve hours, I'll be flat like an okonomiyaki from Doton Canal!  No
way.  I can't stay here.  I won't stay here.

Even if it means opening Pandora's box just to see if there's anything
good at the bottom.  I could say things were different since that rainy
morning days ago--that I'd learned something, that I knew how to control
myself and would never hurt anyone again, but that'd all be a lie.
That's why it has to be just this one time and nevermore.  This is the
exception so that, the rest of the time, I can protect my friends from
me.

My friends, like Kyon and Yuki.

I pressed my hand against the inside of the bubble, and the purple
barrier started to give way.  It squeezed between my fingers.  I
trembled.  For your sake and mine, Asakura, I hope you're right--getting
crumpled like a soda can in a compactor would be really inconvenient
right now!

I pushed harder.  I stepped out, and my footfall was light as a feather.
I took a deep breath.  My pulse slowed.  What would you call it--some
sort of conversion power to make the air breathable and cool?

I found a rock nearby in the dirt:  a stone roughly the size of my fist.
I picked it up and held it at shoulder height.  I let it drop, and it
sped to the ground like it was released from a slingshot, cracking the
rocky soil when it hit.  It wasn't just the air I'd changed.  Whatever I
needed to make this place survivable I could do.  If that's not beyond
me, what else am I capable of?  Can I walk on lava without even a singed
hair?  Can I float through the vacuum of space and not even need to take
a breath?

No, no, let's slow down a minute.  Let's not get excited about the
possibilities, about thing you shouldn't do.  You've got twelve hours on
this rock, and you've done only what you needed to survive.  Now what do
you do?

On an alien world with one sun up and another, it looked like, coming
over the horizon?  I think there's only one good answer to that.

You follow the little helicopter-like creature as its rotor arms cut
through the air, guiding it home.

+++

I know it was an alien planet, but as I walked over the rough, jagged
surface of that yellow world, I had to wonder--just who would want to
live on a rock like this?  With acid clouds flying overhead and enough
heat to make a summer day on Okinawa seem frigid by comparison, you'd
have to be crazy to want to stay here.  I mean, I pulled from my pocket
a ticket stub from the ball game yesterday and tossed it.  As soon as it
left my hand, it burst into flame and withered like a dead leaf.  These
helicopter aliens should come to their senses and build a rocketship to
get off this rock as fast as they can.

Then again, I guess if an alien on Earth might view our world the same
way:  to them, it'd be painfully cold, and our atmosphere would be like
little more than vacuum.  Rain might make them melt or something strange
like that, even if corrosive acid is totally fine.  You can't just go
somewhere else and expect to live the same way--to eat the same food or
drink the same water (or whatever other liquid they might need).

I guess that's why, looking around, I saw what seemed to be barren
wasteland.  Beneath a fine, sandy layer of dirt was nothing but hard,
dark stone.  Nothing I know of on Earth can live in solid rock--nothing
of consequence, anyway--but there, little slug-like things popped in and
out of the rock face, burrowing through it like it was as soft as mud.
Maybe they eat the rock directly?  If so, this whole planet could be
teeming with billions upon billions of creatures living beneath the
surface, never having to deal with the crappy acid rain above ground,
but they can't be all.  I saw that other creature before, too, didn't I?

A dark, crisp shadow passed over me.  Up above, a massive creature
soared.  I don't know how to describe it--sort of like a manta ray?  It
was broader than it was long.  It didn't have a spiky tail or anything
like that, and it was flying.  It must've been as long as a soccer
field, and everything in its shadow was cold.  I didn't see much beyond
its scaly underbelly, and when it passed by, it flapped its wings
mightily, creating a gust that kicked up dirt all around.  It flew
upward, into the clouds and out of sight, but it left something behind:
a colossal roar, a mix between a growl and a screech, like it covered
every possible frequency I could hear.  It left me shaking a little bit
with each step.  What if another one came by and was looking to eat some
lone alien that was wandering through its territory?

I was shaking a little bit, yeah, but you'd be crazy if you didn't look
up in awe anyway, regardless of what anxiety or fear you might feel.
This is an alien planet with creatures you can't possibly understand.
Tell me that's not amazing.

Anyway, that manta ray creature made me realize something:  there could
be a whole lot going on above those clouds without me knowing it.  The
helicopter creature had disappeared while Asakura and I were talking.
Maybe, instead of going further out in this haze, it went up instead.
Flying beasts would fly up as high as made sense, wouldn't they?

That's why I closed my eyes and tried to make a clear picture in my mind
of what I wanted:  a signal of sorts, something unmistakable that any
intelligent being should recognize didn't belong.

The SOS Brigade is here.

It appeared in the sky above me--our emblem, our logo.  The clouds
rippled, and a myriad of creatures fled from it, crying and shrieking.
Something unnatural had appeared in the air, after all.  They saw it.
They heard it.  They felt its coming, so just as you'd expect, most of
them fled.  Any dumb animal would.

Something intelligent, though, might stay back until the commotion died
down, and then, only then, would it swoop in and investigate what
could've caused such an unusual thing.

The quick _chop-chop-chop_ of four rotary wings--two spinning clockwise
and the others turning against them--reached my ears.  One of the
helicopter creatures floated above me.  I didn't see eyes or a face or
anything like that, but it had four clawed legs dangling from its main
body, like a mosquito's.  Its center wasn't aerodynamic by any stretch
of the word.  Instead, it was rounded, about the size of a big beach
ball.  If it had eyes to see me with, I couldn't make them out.  Maybe
the center bulge was just a big compound eye?

_Click-click._

Where did that come from?  Did it rub ts wings together like a
grasshopper?  No, it was flying.  That wouldn't make any sense.

_Click._

We're not going to get much of anywhere if that's the only sound you can
make.  "I'm Suzumiya Haruhi," I said.  "Asakura told me you guys were
expecting a visitor?"

More clicking in various pitches and rhythms.  I swear, a computer is
more descriptive when it beeps.  Maybe to a someone with a different set
of ears, whatever this helicopter creature was saying would make sense,
but it didn't to me.  We'd always be at cross-purposes without some way
to understand each other.

So, I'm sorry, Taniguchi.  This is something I need to do, too.  I
craned my neck to watch the alien's reaction.  "Can you say that again?"

It's fluttering wavered.  It hovered to the ground and landed there, on
its claws.  It tilted its nearest point upward, like it was looking at
me from the bottom, where its legs were.  It made those clicking noises
again--I see now; the sound comes from little gaps in its body, right
under the center point where the wings are attached--and though I knew
the sounds to be incomprehensible, the meaning behind them was clear.

_Yes.  The Blue One said you would come, that you were a friend, like
her._

If Asakura's your friend, you have problems, but I thought better than
to say that out loud.

_She said you could help us._

Help you with what?

The helicopter creature's rotors twitched.  _The Sickness._

The "Sickness" made a Piggy's wings grow thin and weak.  A Piggy
couldn't fly for long when afflicted, and thus would be vulnerable.  One
or two Piggies with the sickness could be taken care of and fed from a
community store, but Rooter said that almost half of his clan had come
down with the Sickness, and soon, if nothing changed, their stores would
run out.  They don't actually call themselves _Piggies_.  When I asked
Rooter about names, he seemed puzzled--the closest analogue they had was
to describe the other Piggy you were talking about, like "The female
with three lines on her right hindwing in the shape of a valley crossed
by a bridge with..."  You get the idea.  It kind of goes on longer.  A
lot longer.  Rooter's had to do with some sort of noodly looking
appendage of a fungus-like stalking thing or... anyway, I thought it
wasn't a big stretch to call him _Rooter_ and the rest of them in
general (since they only talk about clans or families or I'm not sure
what) _Piggies_.  You're okay with that, aren't you, Rooter?

_I'm not called _Rooter_._

I'm calling you _Rooter_, so you are.

Rooter flew up from my side, hovering overhead.  I think its the Piggy
equivalent of looking directly at someone.  Maybe their eyes (or
whatever they have) are focused to look straight down most easily, so
they can forage or hunt or whatever they do, and that's fine.  Different
species are different, after all, as long as they don't try anything
funny.  You're not going to try to turn me into a Mothertree or
something, are you, Rooter?

_We have nothing like those here._

Well, we don't have them on Earth, either.

_Then why would you expect to be turned into this 'tree'?_

It's a book, Rooter.  Let me find a way to get it to you in a way that
this planet won't incinerate, and then you'll understand.

_In our clan, we don't record stories.  We tell them directly, so the
meaning isn't forgotten.  Some of the other clans have tried to share
the technique with us, though._

And?  What happened then?

_They wanted a rock beetle in exchange._

What's a _rock beetle_ mean around here?

_What is a tree?_

Rooter, if you keep that up, I'm going to have to call you _Kyon_
instead.

He didn't reply.  Actually, I don't know if Rooter's a _he_, either, but
that's a question for another time.  I don't sleep with aliens on the
first date.  After all, you have to establish there are compatible
pieces first.

It was a thirty-minute hike to Rooter's village, up steep slopes where
no paths had been cleared.  Rooter's people had no need to traverse most
of this route on foot, after all, so we had to improvise and find a way
for me to follow him.  Where the terrain or rock formations were
unhelpful, I blasted a way through instead.  Rooter was a little
disdainful at first, calling me reckless for impacting the local geology
(xenology?) so easily, but he couldn't be too harsh about it.  If I had
the power to reshape the land and ground, I could help him, too.

When we reached the top of a crag overlooking Rooter's village, I knew
they needed all the help they could get.  The Piggies made their homes
in the rock face, carving them out with distilled acid to accelerate a
weathering process of thousands of years to minutes or hours.  Outside
of their nests, they flew wherever they needed to go.  Hundreds of them
buzzed about the village, which they'd carved from a canyon and
populated.  It was no place for a human to go.  The best I could do was
sit from above and watch them, and in that, I saw clearly.  There was a
nest near the top, just below us.  Rooter held my legs as I leaned over,
into the gorge.  The sick had piled up.  Their wings had turned thin and
green, shrinking into their bodies for protection.  Other Piggies flew
to them and offered something--the rock-encrusted corpse of something
vaguely between a dog and a snake--but the sickest of the lot wouldn't
even look at it.

_Even the Blue One said she was baffled,_ Rooter explained.  _Her people
know all that is above and below the clouds.  How could they be puzzled
by a simple disease?_

It's easy to be puzzled if you're pretending.  Asakura wants me to use
my powers.  She's crazy, you know.  She's like people who kill squirrels
for fun, except she probably rips the eyes out first and boils them to
see what color they turn.

_The Blue One has been nothing but kind to us._

Maybe she has been.  Maybe she had nothing to do with this illness after
all.  I guess all I know is that, in fixing this for you, I'll probably
make her real happy.  I don't like that.

But if I did nothing, if I let these Piggies suffer after they asked me
for help, I'd like that even less.

Rooter had one of his relatives carried and flown to the top of the
canyon--his third mother's second half-cousin twice removed from two
previous matings or something like that.  They presented the sleeping
Piggy to me, its rotary wings tucked at its sides, and I knelt beside
him.  There we were, on a planet far from Earth with an alien creature
lying at my feet, all its family hoping I could cure it.  I don't know
even that much about human medicine; these Piggies could have six hearts
and two mouths and God knows what else.  I've never believed in being
held back by anything so inconvenient as the one and only truth, though.
Experience tells me there's always much more to the world than that.
Who cares if I don't know anything about xenobiology?  Who really thinks
that makes a difference to what I can do?  Not Asakura.  Not Rooter and
his Piggy clan.

Not me, either.  Should I snap my fingers and make what I want reality?
Should I wave my hand instead or mumble an incantation?  No, that'd all
be artificial.  Flair and presentation mean nothing.  It's the thought
that counts.

I stood up.  "He's all better now, Rooter," I said.  "He's all better if
I have anything to do with it.  They all are."

_How can you know this?_ asked Rooter.

I know because I'm Suzumiya Haruhi, and I hold to my word.

I know because your brothers and sisters and cousins--all those who you
fed because they couldn't feed themselves--are flying to meet us
already.

They came out of the canyon, buzzing and swarming.  They soared above me
like fighter jets in formation.  There were so many; they formed a net
that blotted out the yellow sky, and when every last one had left the
canyon, they made a droning sound, a mass of _click-click_ noises in
unison so intense I covered my ears just to keep it out.  I was puzzled
for a moment; why couldn't I understand them any longer?  Rooter and I
could speak just fine.

_They're not speaking to you,_ he said.

Then what are they doing?

Rooter took flight, hovering over me like he did before, and joined in
the cacophonic display.  That's when I understood.

_They're thanking you._

+++

I stayed with the Piggies for the rest of the day.  From the top of the
canyon, I watched the first sun set with them, draping the world in
twilight.  I joined them for a hunt of lava creatures that lived by a
volcano.  We took shelter from an acid rainstorm, and afterward, we
journeyed to the canyon bottom, where they extracted acid from a great
collection mechanism--a machine maintained with their own claws as they
hovered precisely over it.

But in the end, I couldn't stay forever.  As the second sun went low to
the horizon, the Piggies retired for the day.  I bade good night to
Rooter, not knowing how much longer I'd stay or when I'd be back.  I
_would_ have to go home after all, eventually.  And maybe it's the Piggy
way--I didn't get a strong sense of fondness or awe from him, even when
the others of his clan swarmed over me and begged me to know what Earth
was like.  That's fine, though.  With the last ray of light from the
second sun, Rooter just twitched his wings and said farewell.  That's
okay by me.  I don't like to be thanked so much.  Just don't be
surprised, Rooter, if you wake up tomorrow morning and find yourself
able to move small pebbles with a single thought, for instance.  That
can be a parting gift of mine, something you'll want to keep and use
long after this Sickness has been forgotten.  Such ability is something
best shared, don't you think?

I stayed at the edge of the canyon, sitting alone.  That's how I knew
Asakura'd come back.  That's how I felt her presence so keenly when she
returned.  She appeared from nowhere and nothing, yet it was like I her
breath was right on the back of my neck.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" she asked pleasantly.

I might've.  I did, actually, but I won't tell you that.  Rooter won't
tell you, either.  This day will be our secret.

"There's nothing you can hide from us, Suzumiya-san.  You think I
haven't been watching the whole time?"

So you're a stalker.

"I'm hurt.  I should think you'd be more appreciative, considering the
opportunity the Integrated Data Sentient Entity has afforded you today."

And what opportunity is that?

Asakura smiled.  She took my wrist, and the planet of the Piggies melted
away.  We floated in darkness, a black punctuated by glimmering
starlight.  "The universe is vast.  There are countless galaxies and
even more stars within them.  These 'Piggies' are just the beginning.
There are millions upon millions of planets with life, and the
Integrated Data Sentient Entity is all too willing to help you visit
them, to give you the opportunity to live the life of an adventurer, the
greatest explorer humanity will ever know.  All we ask in exchange for
this is that you use your power, that you let us observe it and learn
from it so that we may better ourselves."

And if I don't want to make you guys so happy by giving you exactly what
you want?

"You can choose to be spiteful, but will you really forsake the
opportunity to see Rooter-san again?  That is your choice, and I can't
influence you otherwise.  Regardless of what you may think of me or
Nagato-san right now, what we want has always been simple.  Suzumiya
Haruhi-san, what do _you_ want?"

What do I want?  I've been looking for aliens for years--practically my
life that matters.  When you think about millions upon millions of
extraterrestrial worlds and different creatures on every single one of
them, you'd be a fool not to stop and give that serious thought.

But on the other hand, imagine if someone like Asakura got her hands on
whatever it is I can do.  She tried to kill Kyon, after all.  She didn't
even deny it.

The stars started moving, clustering in two spots against the dark--one
ahead of us, a cluster of blue; the other behind, red and fading.  "It's
a long journey back to Earth," said Asakura.  "I thought you would
handle the outbound trip better sleeping, but here, we'll have plenty of
time.  You've already made some small demonstrations of your power to
us, both on Earth and in front of Rooter-san's people.  Is there so much
harm in giving us a sample?"

If they've already been watching this long and haven't figured anything
out...

"Or would you prefer to go back to Earth, never venturing from the
confines of your solar system again?  Most humans would be happy with
that, I'm sure.  They have no desire to expand their viewpoint, to think
about what's truly beyond the sun they see during the day or the moon
that comes up at night.  It's no crime to want to be like them--ordinary
and complacent.  Is that not said often on Earth about people with
power?"

Ordinary?  You think I want to be ordinary?  You think I can go back and
not talk about this alien adventure?  That I won't want to go back if I
have the chance?  You must not know me at all, Asakura Ryoko, or you
wouldn't say such a stupid thing!

She beamed.  "The only price to come back is this."  In her hands, she
held a plain blue cube and offered it to me.  "You can make it into
whatever you want.  What shape you make it take is up to you."

I took the cube from her.  I balanced it on the tip of my finger,
steading it by sight.  She wanted a demonstration, huh?  That wouldn't
be difficult, not at all.  The faces of the cube buckled; the blue
pigments faded away.  The cube floated from my hand and spun before
Asakura, melting and morphing.  I don't just use powers.  I make them a
work of art, and what I gave Asakura back that day wasn't just a
demonstration.  It was brown.  It had four rotor-like wings and claws on
the ends of small, dangling legs.

It was a statue, a figurine of Rooter, and when Asakura saw it finished,
she clapped with delight.

+++

I learned a lot more about my powers and what I could do on that journey
back to Earth.  Asakura guided me and taught me a lot about manipulating
matter and the difference between how the Entity does it and how I do
instead.  Is this what you call a friendly enemy?  I  don't really know
what to make of her, but by the end of the trip, I could change the
clothes on my back without even taking them off.  I could make light and
take it away.  The hardest thing about it is thinking that you're bound
in some funny way by the laws of physics.  It's not a real restriction;
it just keeps you from being really imaginative.  When you're making a
passing asteroid halt in its tracks and do a loop, you're not applying
any real force to it.  You're just making it do what you want to do.  It
may as well be as light as a feather.  Its mass and inertia don't mean
anything.

When you're as powerful as I am, what you want can so easily become
reality.

"We're back!"

Daylight.  The sound of tires on asphalt.  The smell of smog.  We stood
on the sidewalk outside Yuki's apartment complex.  That's where we left
Kyon and Yuki not too long ago.  That was something my power couldn't
do--it couldn't make the last year I'd spent with them real.  Or, if it
was possible... maybe it shouldn't be.

"From here," said Asakura, "I'll leave you be.  I'll visit you from time
to time, and we can journey across the cosmos whenever you wish.  We
only ask that in return, like this time, you provide us with what data
you can on your powers, through demonstration or whatever other source.
It shouldn't be too difficult for you, though.  It's actually quite a
bit of fun, don't you think?"

That smile of yours is still creepy.

"Is it?  Oh, please forgive me.  It's how I was made to be."

That's why it's creepy.

She tilted her head.  "So dour you can be now.  I think Kyon-kun has
rubbed off on you.  Very well then; I'll take my leave.  My associate
will lead you home now."

I don't need an escort to find my own house.

Another voice called out from behind.  "If you refuse me, Young Lady,
then my agreement with Asakura-san will be in jeopardy."  With slow,
plodding footsteps and the rhythmic planting of her rubber-tipped cane,
the old woman in the yukata came out, shuffling her feet.

"You!" I cried.  "You work with her?  You're an alien, too?"

"Not at all," said Asakura.  "Beckett-san here is merely a freelancer,
following her own agenda.  It only appears that our interests coincide
for now.  What Beckett-san can do is something not beyond the
capabilities of the Integrated Data Sentient Entity, but it is a
technique we don't typically practice."

And that is?

Asakura winked.  "That's a secret!  Now, Doctor Beckett, would you do
the honors?"

"But of course.  Young Lady, your hand please?"

Why is it everyone's taking my hand all the time?  You all want to marry
me?

"Close your eyes," said the old woman.  "Or you might get sick."

Okay, but why do I--

_WHUMP._  My weight shifted.  I wobbled on my feet.  What the hell was
that?

"Shh," said the old woman.  "Be quiet, or she might hear you."

I looked about.  We were in an alley.  How did we get there?  We didn't
walk.

"There's no need to worry, Young Lady.  We're not far from where we were
before."  She pointed.  "Look there, around the corner.  Be careful.
Don't go too far."

I tip-toed over and peered around.  Across the street was Yuki's
apartment complex with Asakura still standing at the front.  She looked
around, nodding to herself, and walked away without taking notice of us.

"That's all then," said the old woman.  "You can go home now."

That's it?  No explanation, no reason?  You're not going to give me
anything, Doctor Beckett?

She huffed.  "That's not my name.  Don't tell Asakura-san that, though.
She knows precious little about me, and that's for the best--for both of
us."

Who are you, then?  Is that a secret, too?

She smiled slightly.  "Close, but not quite."  She tapped her cane on
the ground disappeared from sight.

I'm getting tired of people doing that--leaving without answering any
real questions.