I have a message from another time...
Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
presents
UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT
- SYMPHONY OF THE SWORD No. 2 -
First Movement: This Old Dorm
Benjamin D. Hutchins
with Pearson Mui
Kris Overstreet
(c) 2001 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
MONDAY, MAY 9, 2405
7:33 AM
PORT JERADAR
JERADDO, BAJOR SYSTEM
Had there been any justice, the first morning of the Duelists'
Society's life on Jeraddo would have dawned with the bright, golden
light of promise and hope.
Instead, it rained. The light coming through the windows of
the little downtown hotel called the Jeradar Arms was dim and grey,
not very much unlike the average climate of Worcester. The actual
weather, however, was not Worcesterlike at all, as spring made one
valiant effort to hold on against the approaching Jeraddo summer, and
wind and rain pelted the windows. Some of the Duelists found that
rather restful - in her bed in room 202, Kaitlyn Hutchins looked
positively blissful as she lay curled up, the scrabbling of the rain
against her windowpane sculpting her dreams into nostalgic
reminiscences of the great Avalon nor'easters that would roll in off
Lake Daniels in the fall.
Others, on the other hand, found that the whistling wind and
rattling windows made it nearly impossible to sleep.
The 'nearly' in this case was Harcourt M. McKenzie. Mac had,
for some strange reason, decided to leave the hotel room he shared
with G'Kron and Moose (the hotel wasn't large enough for individual,
or even double, occupancy for all its guests) at one in the local
morning to take the castle's internal measurements. Awakened by
thunder at four-thirty, G'Kron had noted his roommate's absence,
trotted up to the castle, and hauled Mac, his datapad, and his notes
back to the hotel just ahead of the first real downpour. Now, at two
hours past dawn, Moose worked to wring a breakfast out of the
kitchenette's meager supplies, while G'Kron sat in silence studying
the Book of G'Quon, occasionally glancing up to note Mac's
dead-to-the-world, sprawling slumber.
G'Kron glanced up from his book at the first timid knock at
the door. Setting down the Book carefully, he stood up, stretched,
and worked his way around Mac's cot to the door. After a second of
peeping through the spyhole, he muttered, "Gray uniform. It's for
Mac."
"It would be," Moose said. "I'll see if I can wake him." As
G'Kron greeted the courier in the hall - a lieutenant with a CFMF
Charlemagne shoulder patch and black hair with a large upward spike
that defied the rain's attempts to mat it down - Moose stepped over to
the cot and gently shook Mac's shoulder. "Awaken, Sleeping Beauty,"
he said. "Your princess has arrived."
Mac mumbled something that, if intelligible, was probably
unprintable. Otherwise he made no sign of movement.
"Mac," Moose said a little louder, "wake -up-. You have a
visitor."
This time there wasn't even a mumble.
"If you do not wake up this very minute, Mac," Moose said,
standing up to his full height (and nearly clocking himself on the
light fixture), "I am quite liable to -sit- on you."
One squinted eye peered up from the pillow. "s'no rezzon t'be
-rude,-" Mac mumbled, slowly gathering his limbs in from the four
points of the compass and drawing himself up into a sitting position.
"w'nt c'ffee."
Mac's brown hair, rumpled more than his usual neglect, sat
atop the head of a young man who has already decided that sunrises are
horrible things to see live. His bleary eyes squinted as he tried to
bring the grey-clad form of Lt. Tetsuwa Selen into focus. "Midshipsman
McKenzie?" she asked, shuffling her way uncertainly into the room.
"c'mmshn's 'nactive. need -coffee-," Mac grunted, rubbing his
head.
"I have a personal message for you from Admiral Nakajima,"
Lt. Selen said, handing a printout over to Mac. "She would have commed
you, but the weather's knocked out the town's com recievers."
Mac blinked at Selen, then looked at the paper in his
hands. "-NEED- coffee," he said in his first clear voice of the
day. "I. Need. VERY. Strong. Coffee."
"I'll just re-brew the first pot, then," Moose sighed. Looking
at Selen, he added, "I hope you're not upset by this. He's had a rough
night."
"I've served under Admiral Nakajima for three years," Selen
smiled. "I'm used to it. Although she can't stand coffee."
Mac sat on his cot, his head still fogged in, while G'Kron
said his goodbyes to Lt. Selen for him. A few minutes later, Moose
scooped a cupful of rebrewed coffee from the pot and gave it to Mac,
who drank it black without a blink. A few seconds later, the fog
lifted, and Mac could focus his eyes on the paper for the first time.
Mids. Harcourt McKenzie
c/o the Jeradar Arms
112 Center Street
Port Jeradar, Republic of Bajor
Hi!
It turns out I'm going to be separated from my task force for a few
months. Task Force 6 is going into drydock for a fleet-wide refit to
install metadrive units and replace the old engines on all the CFMF's
ships. We'll be a lot faster with the new engines - can't tell you how
much, it's classified! ^_^
"Did she really type a smiley face?" Moose asked. "I thought
only schoolgirls and text-based comp-heads did that."
My chief engineer, Shran, is going to remain with the ships to
supervise the refit. He says he can get you a summer job on CFA
Bethlehem as assistant working on the Charlemagne's refit. I figure,
if you're going to study something as boring as space architecture
anyway, you ought to get some practical experience when you can!
Don't worry, this won't involve a reactivation of your commission.
Just offering a civilian job, take it or leave it. We'll have you
back at Bajor in plenty of time for your school's re-opening
ceremonies - and we'll put in a good word with your instructors for
extra credit!
Gotta go - I've been temporarily assigned as CFMF liason to the B5
project, since I'm ranking officer in the area once Terri Curtiss
leaves. Moving office from Charlemagne to B5 -SUCKS!- But Derek
throws great parties. See you in the fall!
Aya! ^_^
Mac frowned, staring at the letter he'd just finished reading
aloud. "More coffee," he said at last.
"It's on the burner," Moose sighed. "You're awake now, you
can get it yourself. The walk will do you good." As Mac trod to the
kitchenette, Moose read the letter for himself. "I'd think you'd be
ecstatic about this. It's a chance to try out the field of your
dreams."
Mac gulped a swallow of neutron-black coffee and frowned a bit
deeper. "The Freespacer Home Fleet leaves the Bajor system for Zeta
Cygni the day after B5's official opening ceremonies," he said. "I'll
be completely out of reach until mid-August. Won't be able to help
with the castle."
"Is that why you were out so late last night?" G'Kron asked.
Mac nodded. "Got pretty good measurements of the first
floor," he said. "S'in my notes, be sure Kaitlyn gets 'em." He took
a sip of coffee and added, in a softly angry tone, "Yesterday I
borrowed money from my Dad to buy a full set of construction tools for
working on the castle. A few hundred marks' worth."
"How much in SalCreds?" Moose asked.
"About, oh, maybe cr500," Mac sighed. "A complete set.
Torches, turbospanners, the whole sausage."
"But you can use those on the job, right?"
Mac sighed. In a very small voice he added, "I had to promise
my father that I would take the ship master's test this week to get
the money. I've been putting it off for three years now. On this
job," he went on, pointing at the paper, "I wouldn't be -using- any
tools. Helpers fetch tools or borrow them from others. They're not
trained labor. Even if I -did- need the tools, the pay from three
months of construction work is more than enough to pay for the tools,
even at helper's wages."
"They pay that well?"
"They work that hard. Refit jobs aren't like new construction
contracts. They're crash programs. You work ten hours a day, seven
days a week, without fail. If the parts for the main refit aren't
available, they -find- something for you to fix or replace.
Although... " Mac paused a moment, calculating in his head. "Four and
a half marks an hour after room-and-board allotment... call it seven
SalCreds an hour... nine hundred hours... and Dad doesn't expect any
payments until after I graduate... sixty-three hundred Salcreds...
fifty-six hundred after the Fleet tithe... hmmm... "
"Mac? Jeraddo to Mac?" Moose shook Mac's arm, knocking Mac
out of his mental calculations.
"Sorry. Anyway, of -course- I'll be going. It -is- my
career, after all... but I -did- want to work on the castle with the
rest of you." Mac sighed, picking up a set of clean clothes and
heading for the bathroom. "It's probably better this way, though. I
won't get on everyone's nerves this way. I have this tendency to
obsess, sometimes."
"Perish the thought," said Moose.
"I've never noticed," said G'Kron.
Mac shrugged, his tongue exhausted from the unusually long
workout, and stepped into the shower. As the water began to run,
Moose looked at G'Kron, and vice versa, and both breathed a deep, but
carefully quiet, sigh of relief.
"Is he that bad with your guitar lessons?" G'Kron asked.
"Worse," Moose said. "Once he's determined to do something, he
doesn't let go easily. And it takes a brick to the head to distract
him."
"Yes," G'Kron nodded, "a very large brick."
"But a very fine gentleman nonetheless."
"One of the finest."
"Wouldn't hear a word against him."
"Nor I."
"But it -does- take one hell of a brick."
"Perhaps even two hells," G'Kron agreed.
"Besides," Moose said with a shrug, "I'll be leaving not long
after him. It's a long way to Hoffman, and Mom expects me for her
birthday. I probably won't be back until A-term myself. What about
you?"
"Oh, I'll be staying, for the moment at least," G'Kron smiled.
"I have some family coming to the Babylon station whom I haven't seen
in -years-. It will be good to spend some time together this summer.
I will have to get home, yes, but not immediately."
Moose nodded. Looking in the kitchen at the tiny breakfast
he'd managed to cobble together, and the coffee nobody but Mac would
ever drink, he sighed, "Would you consider waiving your religious
views for a day and getting a late breakfast before we see Mac to the
shuttle?"
10:45 AM
RYAN MATHEWS MEMORIAL SPACEPORT
NEW AVALON, ZETA CYGNI
Janice Barlow had encountered several Historical Figures in
recent days, most of them connected in some way to the cadre of
immortals who had founded the Wedge Defense Force back in the late
twentieth century. As she stood in one of the smaller starship
revetments at Mathews Memorial, however, she reflected that she had
never before met one who was so... scruffy-looking.
Zefram Cochrane was one of the great heroes of human space
travel. He'd invented warp drive, which had revolutionized military
and exploratory starship propulsion once he and a couple of friends
from the WDF had made it practical. He'd made great advances in
astrogation techniques for deep space exploration, dramatically
improved the performance of sub-etheric radio, and was one of the key
developers of matter transportation technology. He was the chief
discoverer of metaspace and the inventor of the metaspace transition
point generator.
And he was one disreputable-looking individual on a Monday
morning, grizzled, rumpled, unshaven, and a bit squinty-eyed. With an
unlit cigar clamped in the corner of his mouth and a New Avalon
Knights baseball cap crammed down backward on his head, he looked more
like a janitor than the inventor of fully half the ways in which the
people of the galaxy traveled between stars.
He was personable enough, though; he shook her hand firmly as
he said in a somewhat reedy voice, "Hey, how are ya? You must be
Gryphon's latest prodigy, the Barlow kid, right? Zefram Cochrane,
pleased to meetcha. Friends call me Zed."
Releasing her hand, Cochrane started prowling around the
Rubicon, taking it in from different angles. "Pretty good shape for a
Block I," he said. "Transport for some government bigwig?"
Janice nodded. "Psi Corps Regional Enforcement Director," she
said. Cochrane's eyebrows went up and he gave a low whistle.
"Sweet," he remarked. "How'd you get hold of her?"
"A couple friends and I, uh, liberated it during all the
confusion."
Cochrane grinned. "Good for you," he said, and slapped the
side of the runabout. "Gryph wants her upgraded to Kennebec-class.
We'll try not to touch the interior any more'n we have to," he added,
waggling his eyebrows.
"OK, cool. Any idea when you'll be done?"
"Five, maybe six weeks. We'll let you know. In the meantime,
good luck with training," said Cochrane. He keyed open the main
hatch, stepped inside, and waved goodbye as the hatch closed again
behind him.
"Weird guy," Janice observed to Mitra, her ever-faithful,
ever-hovering Mag. "I kinda like him."
She turned, activated the antigrav cart her luggage was on,
and headed for the subway station.
Six hours later she was walking through the corridors of
Building C, Residence Block, of the Experts of Justice training
facility outside the city. Of the city itself she'd seen nothing yet,
so busy was she with forms and introductory materials. She'd barely
had time for lunch with all the things she had to do to assume her
summer internship as an IPO field agent.
Now, though, she was at liberty, and as soon as she settled
into her quarters, she planned to go back to the N station and head
into New Avalon to see the sights. She found the appropriate room
(117), punched the entry code into the door, and stepped inside -
- where she promptly tripped over something lying on the floor
just inside the threshold and fell with a heavy, rather painful WHOMP
onto what felt like a large, lumpy rock.
"OW!" she announced, rolling off whatever it was and sitting
up to get a better look. It did indeed appear to be a rock, roughly
oblong, about five feet long by two feet wide by eight inches high,
lumpy and mottled in grays and blues. Kind of pretty, for a big lumpy
rock that had no reason to be here.
"Who the hell," she continued in the same irate tone, "left
this big freaking ROCK here?!"
"OW!" replied the rock in a sardonic tone of voice. "Who the
hell let this clumsy freaking PRIMATE in here?!"
Janice blinked.
"Um," she said.
"I guess," replied the rock dryly, "you've never seen a Horta
before."
"A whatta?" said Janice.
"Horta."
"Horta." Janice got up, brushed herself off, and went to the
dataterminal by the desk. "Computer?"
"Working," replied the computer.
"Horta?"
"Horta," said the computer promptly. "Sentient silicon-based
life form native to Janus VI, Rigel Sector. Matriarchal society,
Horta League, Federation member since 2275. First Contact officers,
Captain James T. Kirk, Commander Spock, USS Enterprise NCC-1701.
Available biometric, ecological, and cultural data is extensive."
"Uh... thanks." The computer beeped acknowledgement and fell
silent. Janice sat down at the desk and regarded the rock for a
moment. Now that she got a better look at it, she could see the
little cybernetic vocoder built into its upper shell. "Sorry about
tripping over you and calling you a freaking rock," she said with a
wry grin.
The Horta shuffled around slightly; in the coming weeks Janice
would come to learn that that constituted a shrug. "My fault for
lying in front of the door," it replied. "I thought you'd be arriving
tomorrow. It seems we're too be roommates. My name is Keraht."
"Uh, Janice Barlow," she said. "And this is Mitra," she
added, indicating the football-sized (and, roughly, -shaped) critter
hovering timidly behind her right shoulder. "I think he's worried
that you'll eat him."
"He does look somewhat appetizing," the Horta replied dryly,
"but I think I can restrain myself."
Without a facial expression - or, for that matter, a face - to
go on, Janice couldn't be sure yet if the creature was joking, but she
chose to believe it was and laughed.
This was going to be interesting...
THURSDAY, MAY 12, 2405
2:45 PM
JERADDO
The Wedge Defense Force Corps of Engineers starship Feng Shui,
a Vitruvius-class construction ship, was nearly the size of a
Macross-class Super Dimensional Fortress; it dwarfed many modern
ships-of-the-line, and was easily the biggest ship that had ever, to
anyone's knowledge, orbited the Bajoran moon Jeraddo. For all that,
though, the Feng Shui was not a mighty vessel in the same sense that
the old Wayward Son had been. Though fairly heavily armored and
shielded, she was lightly armed, unmaneuverable, and very slow. Her
role was not to do battle, but rather to deliver a battalion of
engineers, all their equipment, and supplies enough to build and
fortify a decent-size planetary base, to any location in the galaxy,
then stand by, support them, and give them a place to live while they
did their work.
In the last three days, the population of Jeraddo had doubled,
and before all was said and done, it would double again - all
temporarily, of course. The WDF Corps of Engineers wouldn't be
staying all that long - they had a job to finish up by the end of the
summer. For the last three days, Kaitlyn Hutchins and her friends had
spent their afternoons sitting on the steps of the great, castle-like
stone building at the corner of what was to become the campus of the
Deedlit Satori Mandeville Memorial Institute, and watched the
Engineers prepare the site.
They'd cut back the forest to make room for the buildings,
roads, and pathways, but not by clearcutting the entire area; the
campus was designed to be a part of the site's landscape, not
superimposed upon it. Another detachment was working on the road to
Port Jeradar, the moon's biggest settlement (population 2,500), which
was situated a couple of miles from the school, on the opposite shore
of the small lake which separated the hills of the building site from
the craggy mountains on the western horizon. The whole area was alive
with the rumble of heavy construction equipment, the shouts of
workers, and the cheeping of communicators.
Kate and her friends had been students at the Worcester
Preparatory Institute on Earth, but, thanks to a little
misunderstanding with the local government, that Institute no longer
existed, and Kate and her friends found themselves distinctly
unwelcome within the borders of the Earth Alliance for the time
being. So it was just as well that the administration and most of the
faculty of their old school had taken Kate's father up on his proposal
that they establish a new school here.
As Kate sat watching a CoE earthmover flatten part of a nearby
hill for the foundation of what was to be the physics building, she
noticed a flash of color moving up the larger hill upon which the
castle stood - the familiar splash of bright pink that could only mean
her roommate and best friend, Utena Tenjou, was approaching. Sure
enough, here she came, a roll of paper in her hand, flushed with
victory after her visit to the temporary office building the Engineers
had erected from which to manage the site.
"You g-got 'em?" asked Kate.
Utena grinned and spread the rolled paper out upon the steps.
"Major Clanton wasn't using the printer just now."
When not hanging around on the steps of the old castle and
watching the Engineers work, the Institute Duelists' Society had spent
much of their time aboard the starship Challenger, Kate's father's
command, working with a couple of his officers on a plan for the
reconstruction of the castle. It had been abandoned for hundreds,
perhaps thousands of years, and though structurally sound, it lacked
utilities or even a roof (except for the great bronze dome in the
center), and the interior needed a complete overhaul.
The WDF Corps of Engineers couldn't get involved in that;
their charter specifically prohibited them from modifying or
interfering with in any way an artifact of an ancient culture. And
the castle was certainly that; it pre-dated, so far as anyone knew,
the colonization of Jeraddo by Bajorans. The castle was to be one of
the corners of the DSM campus, but aside from landscaping a bit around
it, the Engineers couldn't involve themselves with it.
The Duelists, on the other hand, were under no such restriction,
and they had express permission from the local authorities - in the
form of Vedek Bareil Antos, the religious leader under whose authority
Jeraddo fell, and Prylar Otano Lompoc, the head of the local monastery
whose lands the campus occupied - to rebuild the old structure into
their new home and headquarters.
Plans for the reconstruction of the Duelists' Castle, as it
had become known, had proceeded quickly. The Duelists were talented
students - were they not, they would never have been attending WPI in
the first place - and with the aid of Lieutenant T'Vek, the
Challenger's chief of security and an avid amateur home improver, and
Nadia Davion, the ship's chief engineer, they had made great progress
in developing solid plans for their summer's work.
Utena, the Society's vice-president, carried those plans with
her on a datacrystal in the pocket of the scarlet-trimmed black jacket
she nearly always wore - and now, with the aid of Major Hiram Clanton,
the commander of the Third Battalion, WDF Corps of Engineers, she had
just made proper printouts of them. At last, the Society had
blueprints in hand...
... now all they needed were materials and tools.
"You guys look these over and make sure they're OK," said
Utena. "I'll catch a shuttle up to B5, beam over to Challenger and
let the Chief know that we're ready to start taking deliveries."
"You c-could just c-c-call him, you kn-know," said Kate with a
little smile.
"Sure, I could," said Utena, "but then I wouldn't get to play
with Wolfgang. I'll be back for dinnertime, most likely."
The general Duelist consensus to their VP was "have fun" as
she turned and trotted off down the hill.
It was a pleasant half-hour's walk around the lake to Port
Jeradar, where the orbital shuttle station, instantly nicknamed "the
bus stop", was located. Utena, who had become something of a
celebrity in the little town already for her repeated trips up and
down, smiled and waved at people as she made her way through the
narrow streets to the station. The building, modern plasticrete and
transparisteel, looked somewhat out of place amid the oddly angled
walls and pale stucco of the Bajoran dwellings that made up most of
the town.
She entered, whistling a happy tune, and stopped short as she
noticed something rather unusual. There was a girl, probably a year
or two younger than Utena, sitting on the bench in the station's small
waiting room. She was dressed in faded jeans with threadbare knees, a
somewhat crumpled Frostproof shirt that was looking thin at the
elbows, and old Chuck Taylors with mostly flat soles. She had dusky
skin, brown hair in a pageboy, and, most unusual of all (at least for
the setting), the distinctive ridged forehead of a Klingon.
The most common Klingon language, known in its own terms only
as "the Klingon language" and almost universally known outside the
Empire as Klingonese, had possessed no real greetings before 2300. It
was a very brusque language, given more to threats and imprecations
than social niceties. Still, centuries of interaction with politer
species had impressed upon the Klingons the need for such things, at
least to make conversations with outlanders go more smoothly, and so
the Klingon Language Institute on Qo'noS, the Homeworld, had adapted a
few Standard expressions, like "good morning" and "greetings" and so
forth, into common phrases. There was still no word for "howdy", but
at least now a Klingon-speaker could have a semblance of civility.
>Good afternoon,< said Utena to the Klingon girl in her best
schoolgirl Klingonese. >Are you lost?<
"Mind your own damned business," the girl snapped back in
Standard, scowling.
Utena blinked, then raised her hands in surrender. "Sorry,"
she said. "Just trying to be friendly."
"It's impossible to be friendly in tlhIngan Hol," grumbled the
girl. "Only an idiot would try."
"Well, I'm sorry," Utena replied with a conciliatory smile.
"I don't know Vulcan."
The Klingon girl gave her an odd look, then folded her arms
and looked somewhere else.
"OK, it was a stupid joke. Cut me some slack, huh? I didn't
mean to offend you." Utena sat down on the bench, pulled up one of
her feet and regarded the Klingon girl over her knee. "Have you got a
name? I'm Utena Tenjou."
"B'Elanna Torres," replied the girl reluctantly.
Torres. Now there was a Klingon surname unlike any Utena had
encountered before. Admittedly, she was only a first-year student of
the language and its accompanying culture, and the real intricacies of
Klingon family naming customs were well beyond her grasp at the
moment, but still - that sounded almost like a human name.
She shrugged it off and, still trying to break the ice, said,
"So, B'Elanna... what brings you to Jeraddo? You're a long way from
home."
"I heard there was a construction job here," said B'Elanna
sullenly, "but the WDF Corps of Engineers wouldn't hire me. They said
I'm too young."
"How old are you?"
"13. Why? Are you some kind of cop?"
As a reserve officer in the International Police Organization
Space Force, Utena realized she would have been perfectly justified in
replying, "Yes." That didn't strike her as the wisest answer, and
anyway it would have been mainly an act of smartassery, so instead she
shook her head and said,
"Just curious, that's all. You have to admit, it's kind of
odd to see a teenage Klingon waiting for an orbital shuttle on
Jeraddo."
"I'm not a Klingon," B'Elanna muttered.
"Uh... huh," said Utena. "OK... you're not a Klingon. Fine.
It's kind of odd to see a teenage -anything- waiting for an orbital
shuttle on Jeraddo."
"-You- are," said B'Elanna, looking ever more annoyed.
"True," Utena replied equably, "but then, I'm kind of odd. So
anyway - where are you headed now?"
The girl-who-was-not-a-Klingon shrugged. "Babylon 5, I
guess," she said. "Maybe I'll join the Freespacers before their fleet
leaves."
Utena might have commented on the advisability or
inadvisability of that move, but before she could do so, she was
interrupted by a loud sound.
There was a rather awkward silence.
"When was the last time you had something to eat?" Utena
inquired conversationally.
"I dunno. Two, three days," B'Elanna replied, trying hard to
sound unconcerned.
"Mm. Well, I'm not gonna tell you what to do," said Utena
airily, "'cause I'm sure you can take care of yourself, and I'm not
gonna offer you charity, 'cause I'm sure you've got your pride and
all."
"Thanks," said B'Elanna dryly.
"On the other hand, if you were to just randomly decide to
skip this shuttle and walk around to the other side of the lake, up to
that big old nifty-looking castle building the Engineers are staying
away from, and tell the brown-haired girl with glasses and a stutter
that I sent you, she might introduce you to an MRE. Not out of pity
or anything, you understand, but just to be neighborly."
"Uh-huh," B'Elanna replied skeptically.
"And if you like construction, well... that old castle needs a
lot of work, and the Corps of Engineers can't touch it, so we're doing
it alllll ourselves... and we could always use more hands. Especially
since our Hoffmanite bailed on us, the bastard. His mother's
birthday," she said, rolling her eyes with mock scorn in her voice.
"-Please-."
B'Elanna glanced sidelong at Utena, one eyebrow raised, and
said nothing.
Utena put her hands behind her head, stretched her body like a
bow, and then relaxed, looking up at the ceiling.
"Y'know," she said, as if talking to herself and not relating
any relevant information to any other person, "I've got a real
weakness for the lost-puppy type."
B'Elanna studied her for a few long seconds, then got up and
shouldered her duffel bag.
"You're weird," she informed the pink-haired Duelist, then
turned and scampered from the shuttle station.
Utena smiled up at the plasticrete ceiling.
"I know," she told the empty room.
Kaitlyn and the other Duelists were doing what, in
construction circles, is lightly termed "site preparation." In the
case of the old temple (or whatever it really was), that involved
clearing out a lot of debris. In between design sessions with Nadia
and T'Vek, they'd been swamping junk, fallen plaster, moldering old
leaves, animal nests and other assorted detritus out of the building
for several days now, and as they made progress, what they found was
encouraging.
The building's interior wasn't as bad off as they'd initially
thought. Most of the interior walls were of the same beautiful red
and gold stone as the outside (they'd thought it gray at first sight,
but as it turned out, it had just desperately needed a power-washing),
and proved to be just as sturdy. As Kate had toured it, room by
arduously cleared room, she and the others had mapped the place and
taken their best guesses as to what the various rooms were used for.
The ground floor contained a great entrance hall which was
actually two stories high, for most of the front half of the building.
There had been grand staircases on both sides, but now there was only
one. Behind this, the first floor had what the students took for
kitchens, storage areas, a library perhaps, and what appeared to have
been - they thought - a ballroom.
The second floor - that part of it that wasn't the
continuation of the great hall - contained a number of quite small,
mostly featureless rooms that almost looked like detention cells.
That, so far, was as far as they'd made it.
Kate sat on the steps, frowning thoughtfully with the plans
for their renovations spread out on her lap, wondering when Utena was
going to get back and explain the mysterious Klingon girl who'd bummed
an MRE and was now helping Saionji muck out the northeast corner of
the third floor. A shadow fell across the blueprints.
Goodness, another one? she thought, and looked up.
Standing over her was a girl in her middle-late teens, tall
and rangy, dressed in an iridescent green coverall with a sort of
sleeveless tabard belted over it. Embroidered on her chest was a
symbol, three interlocked green triangles. From the belt of her
tabard hung a number of tools and instruments, and she had a canvas
toolbag slung over one shoulder. She had very pale skin, an aquiline
nose, and no hair; instead, from the back of her head, she sported a
tidily crenelated ridge of grayish-white bone.
Kate blinked, then rolled up the blueprints, jumped to her
feet, and cried, "Ch-Chenann!"
"You started without me!" cried the Minbari girl in a lightly
accented tone of mock indignation. Then she caught Kate up in a hug
(careful not to bruise her friend with any of the various tools
hanging from her belt), backed up, and said, "Let me see what kind of
trouble you've got planned."
Kate grinned, and the two sat down on the steps to spread out
the blueprints and talk them over.
Presently, another shadow crossed the paper, and they looked
up to see Saionji, smudged and rumpled, and the mystery girl, what's
her name, B'something - looking pleased with themselves.
"The rooms on the third floor are bigger," said the Klingon
girl, who looked markedly more cheerful than she had when she
arrived. "We think they're probably bedrooms."
"Or, at least, they -can- be," Saionji added, nodding. Having
delivered himself of his report, he seemed to notice that Kate was
with someone - someone he didn't recognize, to boot - and he paused,
looking a bit puzzled.
Kate smiled. "Th-this is Ch-Chenann," she said, indicating
the Minbari girl. "Sh-she was a j-junior l-last year."
Chenann stood up, brushed off the knees of her coveralls, and
said, "I had to go home Christmastime, when the Grey Council yanked my
passport." She sounded rather annoyed about it. "Judging by Network
23, I missed all the excitement."
Kate sighed. "You d-don't know the h-h-half of it," she
said. "Ch-Chenann, this is K-Kyouichi Saionj-ji. You r-rem-member
him - w-week before Ch-Christmas he t-t-tried to k-kill Utena and
m-me."
Saionji looked mildly embarrassed.
"I wasn't well," he offered, by way of explanation.
"Ah," said Chenann.
"And this," said Saionji, "is our mystery guest."
"B'Elanna Torres," said B'Elanna. "I'm just... sort of
passing through."
Chenann glanced around. "Jeraddo is a weird place to be
'passing through'," she observed.
"So people keep saying," replied B'Elanna, frowning.
"OK," said Saionji, "back to work. You've earned your lunch,
now it's time to get started earning supper. A pleasure to meet you,
Chenann."
Chenann grinned. "Yeah, you too." As they left, she hunkered
down by the plans again. "Cute guy for a human psychopath," she
noted.
"He g-g-grows on you," Kate agreed, nodding absently.
Utena returned shortly before the Duelists gathered and
adjourned to the Jeradar Arms in Port Jeradar, where they were staying
until the castle's interior was something approaching habitable. On
the walk back to town, Kate introduced Chenann around to those who
hadn't had a chance to meet her; Utena handled the remaining
introductions to her bus-station foundling.
Chenann looked interested when Kate introduced her to Mia
Ausa. "Hmm," she said. "Ausa, that's a Minbari name."
"My mother was Minbari," said Mia, nodding.
"Interesting," said Chenann. "What caste are you?"
The question seemed to flick a switch inside Mia's head and
deactivate her good mood; it brought an instant frown to her face.
"Neither," she replied sourly.
Chenann looked enlightened. "Ah," she said. Then, smiling a
little maliciously, she added airly, "So you're a Worker, like me?"
Mia blanched, then blushed, the ebb and flow of color in her
face making for quite a show against her pale-white skin (one of her
birthrights from her Minbari mother). "I... I'm... " she stammered.
"I don't get it," said B'Elanna Torres.
"Oh, well, you see, B'Elanna," said Chenann in a cheerily
instructive tone, "Minbari society is divided into three castes: The
Religious caste, who pontificate on high and look down their noses at
the rest of the universe; the Warrior caste, who polish their weapons
and prepare for a war that ended two thousand years ago; and the
Worker caste, who actually -do- everything." She grinned lightly and
added, "The Prayers and the Fighters have a tendency to forget about
that last part."
Mia sputtered for a few moments longer, then gathered herself,
stopped walking, and bowed her head. "I apologize. It was a stupid,
thoughtless remark."
Chenann thumped her on the shoulder. "Forget it," she said.
"Happens all the time. Anyway, from the way you said it, sounds like
you've got an axe to grind... " She blinked as if just noticing
something, leaned a little closer, and took a good squint at the
silver-mounted opalescent gem Mia wore on her lapel. "... -Very-
interesting," she added. "I've heard of those, but never actually
seen one before. Is it real?"
Mia drew herself up. "Of course it's real," she replied,
slightly stuffily.
"You never can tell nowadays," Chenann replied, shrugging.
The two of them (and B'Elanna, who had stopped with them, as she
seemed to find their entire interaction fascinating) started walking
again, following the others. Chenann went on, "Some people have a
really weird idea of what's funny."
MONDAY, MAY 16
7:44 AM
CRESCENT HEIGHTS MIDDLE SCHOOL
NEW AVALON, ZETA CYGNI DYSON SPHERE
Charles Philip "Chip" Mui could think of better places to be
on the first day of finals week. It wasn't that he lacked in
scholastic ability or enthusiasm. As a matter of fact, he was rather
looking forward to finishing out his career at Crescent Heights Middle
School on a high note, and had no particular fear that he would fail
in that regard. He had no qualms about the faculty or the uniform
that he had to wear (which, despite his lanky frame, he thought looked
decent on him). Over the course of the school year, he'd become
rather fond of the place, and though, like everyone else, he'd be
sorry to see the last of the place as he moved on to, most likely,
Friedrich Koopman Memorial High School in the following year.
It was hardly an auspicious start to one's last week of
school, however, to be shoved into one's locker. To make matters
worse, the door was securely shut behind him, and the voice override
had been sabotaged. Fortunately, none of the lockers was airtight, so
his situation was more humiliating than life-threatening.
Sadly, as situations like his are wont to do, things got
worse. His protests managed to draw a sizable crowd, and absolutely
no help. A few teenage boys wove through the crowd and knocked on his
locker door.
"Yeah?" he replied, his voice reverberating slightly.
"How'd you end up in there?" a rather clueless-sounding boy's
voice asked.
Chip groaned. "Somebody thought that I was Houdini and
decided to test me out," he joked sardonically.
"Who's Houdini? came the less-than-informed query.
Nobody could see him roll his eyes in exasperation, but he did
so anyway. "Never mind."
"Don't you have anything else better to do?!" a female voice
exclaimed, presumably addressing the crowd. With some muttering, they
mostly dispersed. "Are you okay, Chip?" It was his sister, Reiyna.
"I've been better. Do you know my combination?"
"Hang on... " She rapidly typed in a series of digits, then
exhaled noisily in disgust. "No good. They really messed with the
lock. I don't have the tools to cut you out, so I guess I'll have to
call the custodian - "
"Mind if I try something?" a vaguely familiar male voice
asked.
"Umm... sure... " The sudden shift in the tone of his sister's
voice drew Chip's attention. It wasn't often that Reiyna went in awe
of someone, but that's what it sounded like.
He heard a series of beeps, followed by the blessed sound of
the lock disengaging. The locker door swung open, and he was helped
out by two pairs of hands. Stretching, he got a good look at his
savior.
The savior in question was a bit older than Chip, with
coal-black hair that diverged into improbably spiky forelocks. His
ice-blue eyes held both a mixture of disgust (at the prank played at
Chip's expense) and mild curiosity (about the poor jerk who'd gotten
stuffed into his locker). He was pocketing an electrolock confounder
inside his uniform jacket.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Just peachy," Chip replied. "Remind me not to become a
contortionist. Thanks - hey, aren't you Corwin Ravenhair?"
"That's me," he confirmed.
"You're the guy that's gonna be a god someday, right?" Chip
continued.
Corwin put his hand behind his head and looked a bit awkward.
"Uh, well... someday... "
"In that case, isn't this where I pledge my undying fealty to
you?" Chip joked.
Corwin looked suitably mortified. "I'd rather you didn't."
"Well, tough... you've got it anyway." Chip then proceeded to
bow at the waist in supplication, chanting, "I'm not worthy."
Reiyna looked on, clearly amused at both her brother's antics
and the discomfort that Corwin was experiencing.
"OK, OK, cut it out," Corwin urged Chip, mock-smiting him with
one of his books. "Get to class already."
"At once, it shall be done, O mighty one."
Corwin sighed, rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and moved off
down the hall in the opposite direction, returning Reiyna's farewell
wave as she tugged her brother around a corner and down an adjoining
corridor.
He supposed it was an all-right sort of day, for a Monday,
but Corwin was somewhat preoccupied, and found himself wishing Friday
would come sooner. He liked school, and under normal circumstances
he'd have been trying to savor his last week at Crescent Heights,
which had been the site of many a happy time in the last three
years... but the plans he had for his summer made him anxious to get
started. The holder of a starship master's certificate, he had been
recruited by his sister's prep-school roommate, Utena Tenjou, to teach
her the things she would need to know in order to pass the exam for
her own master's cert.
The examination, which covered such widely varying subjects as
astrogation, hazard management, damage control and emergency repairs,
flight maneuvering, communications protocol, interstellar shipping
law, and elementary FTL physics (among other things), was widely
reputed to be brutal, and Corwin, having experienced it the summer
before, knew that reputation to be deserved. He was confident that
Utena could pass it, but he was also confident that it would take the
two of them most of the summer to cover everything she would need to
know in sufficient detail. He'd warned her up front, when she'd asked
him to teach her, that she would have to take risks, work hard, and be
prepared to get dirty.
Which suited Utena down to the ground, anyway, since she was
by nature a hoyden, boisterous, bold and fearless almost to the point
of foolhardiness. Throughout her life, she'd encountered people who
wanted her to slow down, quiet down, and be more ladylike, but Corwin,
who had grown up surrounded by women such as the Valkyrie, thought she
was just about damned near perfect the way she was. He'd known her
for about five months, since Christmastime, and except for family (his
sister Kate, his cousin Hiroshi), he was fully prepared to call her
his best friend in the universe at this point.
Damn! What a summer this was going to be! Sure, he'd have to
crash on his mother's couch all summer (except for the excursions that
lasted more than a day), exiled from his room so that Utena could use
it, but so what? A summer of high-speed adventure, Aunt Bell's
cooking, mechanical tinkering, quiet evenings with games and long
conversations, the wonders of the galaxy to explore... bliss.
But first he had to get through finals week.
Corwin stopped walking suddenly and looked around. Where the
hell was he going? He was nearly to the music department. Hadn't he
been headed for Mr. Sulak's science classroom? Why was the hall so
deserted?
The bell rang.
Oh.
Corwin sighed, turned, and ran the other way.
"No running in the halls, Mr. Ravenhair," Mrs. Kelly, one of
the Standard Literature teachers, admonished him in a singsong voice
from the doorway to her classroom. He slowed to a walk, giving her an
apologetic salute, and she gave him a cautionary nod, went into her
room, and shut the door behind her.
At which point he broke into a run again.
Fortunately, Mr. Sulak wasn't a particularly vindinctive
teacher. He was a Vulcan, after all. He simply assigned Corwin his
rightful two demerits for tardiness (a bit meaningless in his last
week at the school, but the rules are the rules!) and left it at that,
rather than demanding an explanation and/or issuing a lecture on the
Importance of Punctuality to the Civilization of the Galaxy.
Mrs. Kelly would have given the lecture. Corwin was glad he didn't
have her for a class this year.
Nall Silverclaw, Corwin's catlike companion who claimed to be
a white dragon, launched himself from his seat on the shoulder of a
slightly-disgruntled-looking brunette girl in the third row and landed
on Corwin's shoulder as he received his demerits. Corwin acknowledged
his punishment gracefully and went to sit down next to the girl Nall
had been with when he arrived.
"As I was saying," said Mr. Sulak calmly, "today you will
undergo the elementary hyperphysics practical exam phase. You will be
performing a simple element transmutation experiment with the
supercolliders. Please break up into your lab teams and set up your
colliders on the lab tables."
Corwin smiled. He liked collider experiments. He went to one
of the lab tables in the back of the room; the girl Nall had been
sitting with followed, as did a pleasant-faced blonde girl with
glasses who had been sitting up front.
"What happened to make you late, Mr. Corwin?" asked Fuu
Hououji as Corwin set up their collider - a black polycarb box about
the size of a big suitcase, with a disorienting tangle of wires
surrounding a silver metal donut that filled most of the interior
space - in the center of their slate-topped lab table. The little
dragon ruffled his wings in irritation, refurled them against his
back, and jumped up onto his lab partner's shoulder to observe the
experiment.
"Nothing real exciting," said Corwin as he connected the
collider's power input to the socket on the corner of the table.
"Wandering around in a rose-scented haze again?" the brunette
wondered.
"No," Corwin snapped.
Nall turned to the green-eyed brunette and grinned. "You
believe him, Buttercup?"
"Nope," she replied, grinning back.
"Yeah, me neither. You'd be more believable," Nall informed
the young demigod, "if your ears didn't turn red when you said that."
"Shut up and help me calibrate the cyclotron, furball,"
growled Corwin.
Fuu merely smiled and started ruling out the experimental
flowchart on a blank page of her notebook.
By that Friday, the DSM construction site looked like a proper
construction site. All the temporary buildings were up, the roadbeds
were cut, and the building lots delineated. Excavators were working
on the foundation holes for the Science Center and the Administration
Building (formal names to be announced at the school's grand opening)
while the surveyors finalized detail work at the other end. Down in
Port Jeradar, the infrastructure improvements were also proceeding
apace; the spaceport was coming along nicely, its temporary control
center and the first few light-starship revetments already completed.
It wasn't expected to be a very busy port, but given that the old
shuttle station had pretty much comprised all of Jeraddo's spaceport
facilities, -some- expansion was called for.
That Friday afternoon, the new spaceport got its first
customer. The Duelists were outside, enjoying a sunny afternoon and
throwing debris into a Dumpster thoughtfully provided by the Corps of
Engineers when, with a low, leisurely scream of fusion turbines, a
black wing shape darted across the horizon. It banked low over the
Duelists' Castle, winging over so the sunlight glittered on its silver
go-faster stripes, then rolled out and headed for Port Jeradar.
"He certainly knows how to make an entrance," Chenann mused as
several of the others waved at the receding shape.
"It's in his blood," said Utena offhandedly. She finished
heaving a chunk of... whatever that was, plaster, maybe? - into the
Dumpster, dusted off her hands, and said, "Guess that means it's about
time to get ready, huh, Kate?"
Kate took out her pocket watch, consulted it, then tucked it
away in the watch pocket of her jeans again and nodded. "J-just
about," she said.
An hour later, the One-Hit Wonder departed from Port Jeradar
and docked aboard Babylon 5 in plenty of time. The Institute
Duelists, now decked out in formal garb, were conducted by a smartly
dress-uniformed Lieutenant Reed to the Arboretum, where the station's
staff and crew were gathered, along with representatives of the
galaxy's press and the Pact Babylonica's signatories, for the
station's opening ceremonies.
For all that most of the galaxy didn't seem to think the
station was a very good idea, its opening was a gala occasion all the
same. Hundreds of beings were arranged on temporary seating in the
green and pleasant setting of the Arboretum for the speeches, which
were as dull as one might expect, and the ceremonial cutting of the
ribbon, which was utterly meaningless in what had been an operational,
if understaffed and purposeless, space station for almost a month.
One by one, the ambassadors from the various major and minor
powers which had sent representatives to Babylon 5 stepped up and made
brief statements saying how honored they were to be a part of this
historic endeavor. In very few cases did they seem at all sincere.
One of them in particular was met with a sharp intake of breath from
one of the Jeraddo contingent, though the content of his remarks had
little to do with it.
"(What's the matter?)" Mia Ausa asked quietly.
B'Elanna Torres leaned toward her and whispered urgently,
"(Nobody told me there was going to be a Klingon ambassador!)"
"(Well, of course. The Klingon Empire is one of the Project's
strongest supporters. Why? What's the matter?)"
"(I can't let him see me!)"
"(What - never mind. Don't worry, we're well away from the
front, he won't notice you. When the ceremony's over we'll... figure
something out.)"
B'Elanna nodded, but sat tense and nervous through the rest of
the speeches, never taking her eyes off the side of the reviewing
stand on which the Klingon Ambassador sat.
After the ambassadors had their say, International Police
Organization chief Ben Hutchins (Kate and Corwin's father, known to
most as Gryphon) took the podium to give a short rundown of the IPO's
mission and say how pleased he was to be involved with the Babylon
Project. Then there was a little speech by the Babylon Foundation's
founder, MegaZone (which was, Utena thought, disappointingly free of
non sequiturs). Somebody from the Bajoran government talked about how
excited Bajor was to be hosting "the Great Experiment".
Then Gryphon returned to the podium to introduce the station's
command staff. In overall charge of the station was Commander Jer
Johnson of the IPO Space Force, formerly a Wedge Defense Force officer
and still on the rolls of that august organization's reserves. His
deputy commander was Lieutenant Susan Ivanova of the United Federation
of Planets Starfleet. The station's Bajoran liaison officer, Major
Kira Nerys, doubled as chief of security. Dr. Julian Bashir from
Starfleet Medical had overall charge of the station's extensive
medical facilities, and looked as happy about it as a man could
possibly look with all his clothes on.
Rounding out the command staff was another man the Duelists
hadn't met before, in the black-jacketed dress uniform of the IPO
Space Force. He looked to be in early middle age, with curly reddish
hair, and seemed a bit nervous and uncomfortable; he kept fidgeting
with the cuffs of his sleeves and the turtleneck collar of his green
Service Division undershirt. Gryphon introduced him as the station's
chief engineer, Chief Warrant Officer Miles O'Brien.
Gryphon then introduced his IPO Space Force comrade, Captain
Krontep vathKesek of the Imperial Klingon battlecruiser HoSghaj, and
the commanders of the starships that had assisted his own Challenger
in joint defense operations until the station's defense grid was up
and running: WDF Captains H.H. Hanson of the Renown and Edward Pellew
of the Indefatigable, and CFMF Vice Admiral Ayami Nakajima and her
staff.
As he took back the podium, the IPO commander had a curious
little smile on his face. "Some of you may know," he said, "that
we've had a bit of bureaucratic trouble getting the Wedge Defense
Force on board as a Pact Babylonica signatory. They've been gracious
enough to help us out with the station's defense during construction,
but for a while there, it didn't look like they were going to set up a
formal liaison and participate in the project itself."
His smile broadened as he went on, "Well, it turns out that it
wasn't so much a misunderstanding as a deliberate stall; Field Marshal
Ritchie has a unique sense of history. He wanted to see how many
organizations and governments would come on board -not- knowing that
the WDF was throwing its full support behind the project... and now
that he knows that, he's willing to commit that support. So, at
the last -possible- instant, please welcome our liaison officer from
the Wedge Defense Force - Captain Derek Bacon."
Applause washed over the reviewing stand as, from behind a
nearby curtain, a very large man in the blue and white,
double-breasted, brass-buttoned uniform of the Wedge Defense Force
emerged, smiling and waving. At first sight of him, Utena thought he
must be a Hoffmanite, a heavy-gravity genemod, like her friend Moose
MacEchearn. This man wasn't as tall as Moose, who was over seven feet
tall - he looked, in fact, about the same height as MegaZone - but
where MegaZone was of impressive, imposing build, this man was
-massive-, built like a bridge abutment. His uniform looked as if it
might be having trouble containing him.
He had a very round and very friendly face with a broad, open
grin and extremely bright eyes. His sandy hair was shaved except for
a strip about two inches wide in the center of his scalp, which was
long enough to be drawn back into something like a Klingon warrior's
queue at the back of his neck. Silver datajacks gleamed above his
right ear.
Derek Bacon strode to the podium, shook hands with Gryphon,
and then turned and spoke into the microphone. Utena got another
surprise at this. Just from the size of him, and from his build's
resemblance to that of Moose, she'd expected Bacon to have a
Hoffmanite's voice, too - deep and saturated, like an earthquake
trying to talk. Instead, it was actually on the slightly-high side of
mid-range, the sort of voice that, had Utena closed her eyes, would
have put her in mind of somebody built about like wiry Commander
Johnson.
"Hey hey HEY!" said Bacon. "How's everybody doing? Me? I'm
GREAT!"
"Kai the Captain!" cried Krontep, and those members of his
command staff with him joined in.
Zargh Thalekh had the distinct and particular look of a man
who has just found something very, very unpleasant floating on top of
a bowl of his favorite soup.
"I'm very excited to be part of this," said Bacon, his grin
threatening to damage his face if it got any wider. "My only regret,"
he went on, "is that I won't be here full-time, because -this- is
going to be -the- place to be."
Zargh looked relieved. Dr. Bashir nodded in sage agreement
with Bacon's sentiments as the Wedge Defender went on, "But I'll be in
the neighborhood. Harry and Ed are heading home now that the
station's online, but I'll be joining Gryph and Krontep, keeping this
place safe for democracy."
Most of the attendees had no idea what the hell he meant by
that, particularly, but they applauded anyway; the man's enthusiasm
was infectious.
"This concludes the official opening ceremonies," said
MegaZone, "which means," he added dryly, "there are no more boring
speeches to sit through, and you can have at the food."
So they did.
The Duelists regrouped; now that the ceremony had broken up
into what was essentially a massive buffet gathering, B'Elanna was
growing more nervous by the minute, and something had to be done about
it.
"Well, look, what are you afraid of?" Utena wondered. "I
mean, I know Zargh's a big stiff, but he's mostly harmless."
"Not to me," B'Elanna insisted. "Don't you get it? He's the
Klingon Ambassador. I'm a missing person under his jurisdiction. If
he spots me and figures out who I am, he'll have to send me back to
Qo'noS."
Utena considered saying, "I thought you weren't a Klingon,"
but discarded it as unproductive and overly snarky.
"You're a -runaway-?" said Juri, a little sharply.
"What did you think, I was trying to get a job at a
construction site on a Bajoran moon for a summer school project?"
B'Elanna shot back.
Juri had to admit she had a point.
"Look, I don't have time to tell you my whole life story, OK?
My mother's family on the Homeworld have legal custody of me. They're
really strict and really traditional - I mean, the full Cult of
Kahless treatment, all right? - and I had to get out or I was gonna go
-nuts-. Or get killed. My Uncle Klayvor has a really weird idea of
what builds character."
"What about your father?" asked Mia, who, as B'Elanna told her
abbreviated story, had grown more and more sympathetic-looking.
"Dead," said B'Elanna, "or he might as well be, as far as I'm
concerned. I've got to get out of here."
Kaitlyn frowned thoughtfully. "Y-y-you're w-with us," she
said finally. "I-if y-y-you... " She sighed and looked at Utena.
"Kate's right," said Utena, picking up the thread without
trouble. "If you go running off without one of us, Security will pick
you up, and then - "
"Hey kids," said the friendly voice of Commander Jer Johnson,
almost startling the concentrating little knot of Duelists out of
their skins. B'Elanna looked about ready to try hiding behind Mia.
"Problem? Not enjoying the party?"
"Oh, uh, it's fine, Commander," said Utena. "It's just...
um... B'Elanna's not feeling well."
B'Elanna's frightened expression took on an additional layer
that basically said, "That lame excuse is the best you could think
of?" as she turned to look at Utena, who shrugged.
Jer looked from Utena to the Klingon-looking girl and back,
then turned and peered over the crowd to where a suffering-looking
Zargh was being harangued by a cheery-looking Krontep in the buffet
line. Then he turned back with a sly smile on his face.
"First, have a bunny," he said, and thrust the gray rabbit he
was carrying into B'Elanna's arms. "Second, give me a second." He
tapped the call button on the communicator he wore on the back of his
hand and said into it, "Jer to O'Brien."
"Go ahead, Commander," said an Irish-brogued voice in
response.
"C'mere a minute. I've got a little job for you."
"On my way."
A minute later, the curly-headed chief engineer worked his way
out of the crowd and came to the side of the group, looking
interested.
"What's up, Commander?" he asked.
"Chief O'Brien, everybody, everybody, Chief O'Brien," said Jer
breezily. "See the girl with the bunny? Take her down to Gray Sector
and show her the toys or something. Don't let Ambassador Killjoy see
her. Got it?"
O'Brien looked at B'Elanna, then turned and glanced across the
crowd at Zargh. "I assume you mean Ambassador Thalekh," he said with
a wry grin.
"Yeah, 'sright," said Jer. "Do a Level 2 diagnostic on the
defense grid, or like that. You know. Interesting stuff, not boring
crap like the fusion reactors. You're excused from the rest of the
shindig, take as long as you like."
O'Brien's grin became a lot less wry.
"Count on me, sir," he said.
"I always do," said Jer. He took his bunny back from B'Elanna
and indicated the chief engineer. The girl cast a nervous glance
around, but the Duelists were nodding and smiling, so she nodded
herself, swallowed, and went with him.
"Thanks," said Utena once the two had vanished through the
bulkhead into the outer station.
"No problem," Jer replied, petting Bailey absently. "I
consider it part of my job to keep Zargh from ruining people's days as
much as possible," he added with a grin. "C'mon, Bailey, let's go see
if JR left us anything in the salad bar."
As soon as they were out of the Arboretum, Chief O'Brien
sighed, took off his dress uniform's jacket, and rolled his sleeves up
to the elbows.
"Don't like formal occasions, huh?" asked B'Elanna.
O'Brien smiled sheepishly. "Not particularly," he said.
"Part of the job, sometimes, but I'd rather be seeing to my station."
"Sorry about getting dumped on you like that. I'll try to
stay out of your way."
"Don't worry about it," said O'Brien. "I'm Miles O'Brien, by
the way. I didn't catch your name."
"B'Elanna. B'Elanna Torres."
"Well, B'Elanna, as it happens, I've got a transporter pattern
matrix in Red Sector Room 2 that needs recalibrating, if that won't
bore you too much."
"Anything's better than going back to Qo'noS," she replied,
trying out a faint grin. It seemed to feel all right, so she left
it. "I don't know anything about transporters, though."
"Well, that's all right. It's usually a solo job anyway,"
said O'Brien. "You can just... hand me tools and the like. OK?"
"OK."
"That was remarkably perceptive of Commander Johnson," Juri
mused as she and Kaitlyn stood next to each other in the buffet line.
"Mm," said Kate. "I'm a l-little w-w-worried, though."
"Worried? What about?"
"G-given the f-fascin-nation she's shown for c-construction
and en-n-ngineering," said Kate, "I'm n-not sure w-we'll ever get
B-B'Elanna b-b-back."
Juri chuckled. "I'm sure Chief O'Brien will get tired of her
eventually and send her on her way."
"So," said Krontep ebulliently. "What is this mysterious
assignment? You said you'd be taking over for Hanson and Pellew.
Does that mean you have another command?"
Derek Bacon grinned. "Yup. They're actually trusting me with
a ship that crews more than a dozen, if you can imagine it."
"They gave -me- a station with a -quarter million-," said Jer,
who now had a bunny on each shoulder, one working on a lettuce leaf,
the other nibbling at his teal hair. "But I expect running a space
station is like being a system admin. 90% of the users just want to
get on with their jobs. 10% want to play silly buggers and see what
they can get away with."
"10% of 250,000 is a lot of silly buggers," Krontep observed.
"Mm," said Jer. "But I've got good assistant admins," he
added with a grin. "I pity anybody who tries to put anything over on
Ivanova and Kira. They'll fight over who gets to gnaw on the bones."
"Well, don't keep us in suspense, Captain," said Krontep,
nudging his old commander. "What's your new command?"
"From Babylon 5, I'm John Trussell. Good night."
"OK," the flat voice of G-3N3, the Network 23 Field
Assistance Droid who usually served as Truss's camerabot, announced.
"We're clear." The gray-painted droid lowered the big Net23 ethercam
rig and nodded his snouty head. "Good show, boss."
"Not bad at all," concurred the holographic image of Truss's
machine-intelligence controller, Al.
"Thanks," said Truss wryly. "OK, Gene, take the camera back
to the ship and pack up for the night. We'll move into the office
tomorrow."
"Roger roger," replied Gene, and he turned on his heel and
marched away.
"So now what?" asked Al as Truss started navigating the
crowd. The garishly-dressed middle-aged-looking image flowed through
the crowd without bothering to move aside; instead, he just walked
through people. No one noticed him, because no one else could see
him. When Truss had first received the neural implant that permitted
Al to enter his sphere of sensory input undetected by others, he'd
found that effect extremely disconcerting; now he was used to it, and
the only thing he found disconcerting was Al's hideously garish
virtual wardrobe.
"Now," said Truss, "I'm going to find Mia, and you're going to
go away and leave me alone."
Al mock-scowled. "OK, fine," he said. "I know when I'm not
wanted." With a harrumph, he vanished.
"If only," Truss murmured, smiling. A few moments later, he
located his target, sitting at one of the long buffet tables with the
rest of the Duelists.
"Is this a private table?" he asked, smiling.
Mia's face lit up. "Dad!" she cried, jumping up and enfolding
him in her arms. "I figured you might be here. Everyone, this is my
father, John Trussell."
"He looks... somehow familiar," said Kyouichi Saionji dryly.
"Yeah," concurred Wakaba Shinohara. "I could swear I've seen
him somewhere before."
"I get that a lot," Truss replied. "People say I look like
somebody famous. Personally, I can't see the resemblance," he added.
"Heyo, Gryph. Nice introduction you did, there."
Gryphon gave Derek Bacon a sardonic look. Bacon shrugged.
"Just trying to say something nice," he said with a grin.
"Hey, got a minute? You were out on patrol and missed most of the
diplomatic arrivals. Let me introduce you to some of the
ambassadors."
"Sure," said Gryphon, with a faint, enigmatic smile.
The crowd had thinned out considerably in the hour since the
buffet opened, and locating diplomatic personnel was not difficult.
The first ambassador they found was especially easy to find, since he
was standing at the corner of the wet bar with MegaZone, carrying on
a rather loud, rather lubricated conversation.
"... keeps your hair up like that, anyway?" Zoner was
asking as Gryphon and Derek approached.
"The thought of my wives!" replied the other, a rather portly
man in a very ornate purple jacket and sporting the usual outlandish
Centauri hairdo that looked rather like a black peacock fan.
"Excuse me," said Derek, "Ambassador? I'd like to introduce
you to the Chief of the International Police - "
The Centauri turned, focused his drink-brightened eyes on
the IPO chief, then grinned broadly and flung his arms open.
"-Gryphon-!" he declared, clapping the one he named firmly on
both shoulders. "Friend Gryphon, how -are- you? It has been -years-!
You have come up in the world, I see, while I... "
He shrugged eloquently, leaned forward, and said in a tone of
broad confidentiality, "Londo Mollari, my friend, is, like his empire,
in a definite state of decline."
"You're looking fine to me, Londo," Gryphon lied with a
smile. "A little drunk, but then you did some of your best flying a
little drunk... "
"Ah, no, there you are wrong, my friend. I did my -best-
flying when I was a -lot- drunk!" Mollari laughed uproariously. "And
with the help of my dear and good friend MegaZone, that is what I
intend to be in another hour or so."
Gryphon glanced at Zoner; Zoner shrugged with a "well, what
can I do?" expression.
"Well, I'll leave you to it, then," said Gryphon. "We'll have
to have lunch sometime."
"I would enjoy that," said Mollari with the extra-careful
enunciation of the inebriated, "just so long as you are buying." That
struck him as very funny, and he let out another great peal of
laughter before turning back to his drink.
Gryphon shook his head as he and Derek moved away. "Poor
bastard," he muttered.
"Didn't know you knew him," said Derek.
"Yeah... it was a long time ago. Back in the Exile, I was
first mate on his trading ship for a while. He was a bit of a pirate
back in those days. When we parted ways, back in '58, he was headed
back to Centauri Prime to clean up his act and try to get into a
respectable line of work." Gryphon sighed, shrugging. "Well, it
looks like he got it... "
Derek nodded. "Well... now that the place is online, maybe
he'll be too -busy- to drink."
"We can only hope."
"Anyway... ah! Here we are." Derek led the way to a large,
imposing Narn who was at that moment in conversation with a younger
member of the same species - Kaitlyn's classmate G'Kron, in fact,
Gryphon noticed as they approached.
"Ambassador G'Kar," said Derek. "Excuse me for interrupting.
I wanted to introduce the IPO Chief - "
G'Kar did a double take at the sight of Bacon's companion,
then put his fists to his chest and bowed in the Narn fashion before
reaching out to shake Gryphon's hand in both of his.
"Va'Lor," he said. "What a pleasant surprise. The decades
have been kind."
"And to you as well," said Gryphon, grinning. "So it's
Ambassador now? I never figured you for the diplomatic type."
G'Kar smiled and made an airy gesture. "We each serve as we
are called," he replied enigmatically. "May I introduce my nephew,
G'Kron? But of course you have already met!" G'Kar said, as if
reminding himself. "He is a classmate of your daughter's."
"Captain," said G'Kron formally. "Thank you for arranging my
transportation back to Narn next week."
"No trouble, G'Kron," replied Gryphon. "Will you be joining
Kate and the others at Satori Mandeville Memorial next term?"
"Certainly," the young Narn replied seriously. "With most of
WPI's programs transferred intact, the Engineers, whatever the new
school decides to call us, will have a title to defend!" G'Kron's
red eyes gleamed as he added, "And there is always the possibility
that we will be able to persuade Miss Tenjou to pitch competitively
for us next season... "
Gryphon chuckled. "Good luck," he said.
"Thank you, sir."
"Where do you know -G'Kar- from?" asked Derek as they moved
on. "And what was with that name he called you?"
Gryphon shook his head, laughing softly at a memory. "It's
part of a very convoluted joke," said Gryphon. "You'd appreciate it,
but this isn't the time."
"Uh-huh. Well, anyway - let's see... here we go." The next
person they approached was a Minbari woman in the white robes of one
of that world's religious orders; she was standing off to one side,
alone, watching the gathering with interested eyes. She turned to
face the two men as they approached, her face taking on an expression
of polite interest.
"Ambassador Delenn," said Derek.
"Captain Bacon," replied Delenn, inclining her head.
"May I introduce the Chief of the IPO, Captain - "
Delenn smiled, took a step forward, and placed the palm of her
hand high on the middle of Gryphon's chest.
"Benjamin," she said. "It is good to see you again."
>Greetings, Delenn of Mir,< he replied in her language,
returning the gesture.
Derek looked as though he were only barely restraining himself
from slapping his forehead.
"... So, you've already met," he said lamely.
"The Captain took refuge on Minbar for a short time during his
exile," said Delenn with a reminiscent smile. "He was perhaps the
worst novice my order ever had."
"So it wasn't one of my better plans," Gryphon replied with a
sheepish grin. "I didn't know you'd joined the diplomatic corps."
"I must follow the calling of my heart," Delenn replied.
Gryphon smiled. "G'Kar just said something similar."
Delenn was too refined and polite to actually roll her eyes,
but it was clear that she wanted to.
"Ambassador G'Kar's heart," she said diplomatically, "calls
him in very peculiar directions."
Gryphon chuckled. "Well. Now that you're here, we'll have to
see if we can let less than 40 years pass between meetings this time."
"I will be here," she replied, smiling, and nodded politely to
Derek as the two left her.
"I can't believe this," said Derek. "Is there anybody you
DON'T know?"
"I'm starting to wonder myself," Gryphon replied wryly.
Derek scanned the periphery of the dissipating gathering, then
grinned broadly. "A-hAAAA," he said triumphantly. "Here's somebody I
KNOW you can't have met before." He led the way over to one of the
freestanding computer kiosks that dotted the area. Standing in front
of the terminal was a curious figure indeed - a tall being draped in
an iridescent cloak that hung in many folds, topped by a broad,
shining reddish-brown pauldron plate that almost looked like chitin.
"Ambassador?" asked Derek. The figure didn't move. Derek
cleared his throat and tried again, a little louder. "Ambassador?"
A muted "squonk" came from the terminal. A moment later, the
figure turned, revealing a front side that was easily as odd as the
rear. The pauldron plate came to a point in front, where the chest
would be on a humanoid, culminating in a gleaming greenish gem about
the size of a doubled fist. Above the plate, a little turret of a
head, almost like a security camera, pivoted on a swivel and fixed the
two men with an eerily focusing single green eye.
Curious, musical sounds came from the creature; then the gem
on its chest(?) glowed softly and a rather hushed and eerie voice said
in Standard, <yes?>
"I'm sorry," said Derek, "did I interrupt something?"
The being paused as if considering the question, then replied,
<well i ran into something and the game is over.>
"... Oh," said Derek. "Well. Um, anyway. I wanted to
introduce the International Police Organization's Chief, Captain
Benjamin Hutchins. Captain, this is Ambassador Kosh from the Vorlon
Empire."
Gryphon squinted at the encounter-suited Vorlon. "Not Kosh
-Neranek-?" he asked.
<yes,> Kosh replied.
"Well, I'll be dipped," said Gryphon. "Kosh, you old bastard,
how the hell are you?"
<same shit different day,> said the Vorlon offhandedly.
This time, Derek -did- slap his forehead.
"Can you hand me the #3 turbospanner, please?"
B'Elanna scanned the rack of tools, selected one, and placed
it in the hand extending from the access panel. It disappeared
within, and a moment later, a whining noise came from inside the wall.
"Oops!" said B'Elanna as she realized her mistake. "I'm
sorry, Chief... I gave you the wrong tool."
Chief O'Brien's head, shoulders and right arm emerged from the
panel, regarding the tool. "So you did. This is an alluvial damper.
Not at all what I asked for."
B'Elanna hung her head. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'll get
it right next time - "
"It does, however," O'Brien went on with a twinkle in his eye,
"happen to be exactly the tool I -needed-." He grinned. "I made the
mistake, not you. You may get the hang of this business yet," he
added, then went back into the panel while his impromptu assistant
beamed.
After the reception, Corwin dropped the Duelists (and a
somewhat-reluctantly-parted B'Elanna Torres) off in Port Jeradar - all
except Utena, who was coming with him back to Tomodachi to start her
summer of pilot training.
"Well," said Utena, shouldering her duffel bag at the bottom
of the ramp, "take care, Kate. Are you -sure- you guys can get by
without me?"
Kaitlyn smiled. "W-we'll be f-fine," she assured her
roommate. "We c-c-can f-function without you, for l-limited times,"
she added with an impish grin.
Utena grinned in return, then hugged her roommate. "If you
need anything, call," she said.
Kate nodded. "G-g'wan, have f-fun."
"That's the plan," Utena replied. She gave Kate one last
squeeze, then released her, turned, and went up the ramp.
Kate left the revetment, made her way through the
half-finished terminal, and was out on the street before the One-Hit
Wonder roared up out of the spaceport complex and disappeared into the
sky. She stood on the sidewalk, smiling up at where it had been, for
a few moments, then turned and headed up the street to the Jeradar
Arms.
As was commonly the case, Corwin wasn't particularly talkative
with his passenger until the One-Hit Wonder was in hyperspace, caught
up as he was in chatter with the B5 airspace control desk, offering a
farewell to his father on Challenger, and so forth. Once the black of
realspace had been exchanged for the swirling whitish-blueness of
hyperspace, though, he sat back from the controls, unhooked his
commset earpiece from his ear, and sighed, then turned in his seat to
grin at his copilot.
"Think they'll survive without you?" he asked.
Utena smiled. "Kate assures me that they'll be fine," she
replied. "Listen... thanks for doing this. I'm sure you had some
other way you'd rather have spent your summer... "
Corwin suppressed a snort of laughter that would probably have
been taken wrong and replied, as seriously as he could manage, "Nah,
not really. I'd probably just have spent it lying around reading or
something. Mom thinks it's better if I get out of the house as much
as possible, but that might just be because she likes it quiet," he
added, grinning.
Utena chuckled, and for a while, they looked out the windows
at hyperspace in silence. Then she cleared her throat and said, "Say,
uh... Kate and I were talking the other day, and... well... I'd like
you to have this." She dug into her jacket pocket and then held out a
small object to him.
Corwin, looking a bit puzzled, took it and turned it over in
his hands. It was a silver ring with a nicely enameled pink rose-seal
inlay. At sight of it, Corwin understood two of its several
significances. One, it was the seal of the Institute Duelists'
Society, the campus club which Kate and Utena had founded last year at
WPI, and of which Kate was president and Utena vice-president. Two,
it had also been the emblem of those at Utena's previous school who
had been chosen to participate in the cycle of duels for the Rose
Bride, a cycle which Utena had eventually won.
"I know you're not a student of the Institute," said Utena,
"and so you can't really officially be a Duelist... but... after what
you did for us... well, there wouldn't still -be- a Duelists' Society
if not for you. So... "
Corwin looked at the ring, then at her, and smiled.
"That's... thank you," he said. He hesitated for a moment, then
slipped it onto the ring finger of his left hand. Most of the
Institute Duelists wore their rose seals on their left hand, as had
been the practice at Ohtori Academy. Utena did not; she reserved that
finger for her -original- rose seal, which had been lost when she'd
inadvertently left her world, and which she intended, one day, to
return for. Corwin knew that, and had considered doing the same as a
gesture of solidarity; but then the significance of the left hand had
occurred to him. Utena noticed the hesitation, but didn't say
anything about it.
"So," she said instead. "What's first on the agenda?"
"Well, we've got a couple days to kill before we get to
Tomodachi. I figured we'd start with some basic stuff - intro
astrogation, comm protocols, and so forth - but first... Remember
when Kate got her driver's license?"
Utena nodded. "Uh-huh."
"Well, if you're OK with it, I'd like to start with a
neurostim simulation."
She considered this; having seen Kate in the semi-comatose
state that total sensory interdiction caused, she'd been rather
uncomfortable with the concept. More than that, she'd had an
experience or two with virtual reality in the past, and they had never
been pleasant... but Corwin, who would be running this simulation,
certainly didn't mean her harm, and both he and Kate had assured her
that the process itself was was perfectly safe. She knew Corwin would
never ask her to do anything he thought was more dangerous than she
was capable of handling, but she also knew he had a pretty high
estimation of just how much danger she could handle. Being taken
seriously, she reflected wryly, is a two-edged sword...
She grinned. "Sure. Why not?"
They left the ship on autopilot and went back to the One-Hit
Wonder's wardroom. This was a very similar room to its analog aboard
Daggerdisc, with a couple of couches, a miniature dining nook, and a
game table. Corwin indicated the game table, and Utena sat down while
Corwin set up a small piece of electronic equipment on the table, then
carefully attached a set of adhesive electrodes to Utena's forehead,
her hands, and behind her ears. Then he put a set on himself, checked
all the leads, and sat down opposite her, working the controls on the
interface unit.
"This is a pretty straightforward simulation," he told her.
"No danger, almost no variables at all, in fact. It's not a test or
anything like that - just a way of showing you something that I can't
show you any other way. If you feel any disorientation or discomfort,
let me know and I'll punch us out. OK?"
She nodded. "OK."
He handed her a padded blindfold, put one on himself, and
said, "Here we go, then. Just relax... "
Utena did her best to comply, settling back in the couch, eyes
closed beneath the blindfold. She heard the click as Corwin touched
the simsense deck's activator -
- and suddenly she was standing on a grassy hummock on a warm,
breezy day, the blue sky blazing above her, studded with fluffy white
clouds. It wasn't nearly as wrenching a transition as she'd been
expecting, nor was the experience itself as dreamlike as she'd thought
it would be. She looked down at herself, saw herself dressed in her
Ohtori Academy uniform. Corwin was standing next to her in the same
black jeans and blue button shirt he'd been wearing when they jacked
in, his hands in his pockets, grinning as the breeze ruffled his
disordered black hair.
"Pretty neat, huh?" he said.
"Yeah," she replied. "How does it know what I'm wearing?"
"The interface protocol taps a specific part of the humanoid
neural structure - pulls in something cyberpsychologists call
'residual self-image'. Unless the program has a specific costume for
you, you look like you think of yourself looking."
"Huh." Utena glanced down at herself again, smoothed her
uniform jacket, and said wryly, "Good thing I've got a pretty good
self-image."
Corwin chuckled. "I won't argue that," he said. "Anyway. I
imagine you're wondering where we 'are'."
She nodded. "Feels like Earth, or at least a Class-M planet."
"It is Earth - Cape Canaveral, Florida, to be exact."
Utena looked around, puzzled. "I've seen pictures of
Canaveral," she said. "It's a major spaceport."
"It is now," Corwin agreed. "'Today' is Wednesday, July 16,
1969. The Cape was a spaceport on that day, too, as it happens... but
there was only one flight scheduled." He turned around and gestured.
Utena turned too, then blinked in surprise. Perhaps a mile away, a
tower of red-painted steel pointed into the sky, and alongside it,
connected to it by a number of spindly arms and thick hoses, was a
black and white stepped cylinder with stubby fins at its base and
steam pouring down its sides.
"Space travel is routine in the modern day," said Corwin. He
started strolling toward the tower as he talked, and Utena followed
and listened as he went on, "But it wasn't always that way. In 1969,
Earth was 30 years away from First Contact with Salusia. Officially,
no one had any evidence that Earth wasn't the only inhabited planet in
the universe. Humanity had only been traveling in space for eight
years, since the Soviet Union put a man in orbit in 1961."
"Yuri Gagarin," Utena said. "He was mentioned in Galactic
History 202 - Earth's first space traveler."
Corwin nodded. "In some ways, First Contact cheated Earth out
of a bit of its history," he observed. "Earthpeople never developed
their own FTL technology from scratch, never had an early interstellar
exploration period. Salusia came along and pretty much gave them a
ticket to the big dance for free - hyperdrive, starcharts, the
accumulated knowledge of several centuries of starfaring. Now, even
though Earth is a major player in galactic politics, nobody much
remembers its early space explorations, because they didn't leave the
system. They mention Gagarin in history classes because he was the
first to leave the planet... but no one remembers Project Apollo."
There was a burst of static, as if the whole world around them
were a TV that had been momentarily tuned to a dead station, and
suddenly they were standing in the doorway of a smallish white room
full of odd pieces of equipment and several men in white jumpsuits.
At the far end of the room was a curious little trapezoidal doorway.
The men in jumpsuits didn't seem to see them.
"Where are we now?" Utena wondered.
"The White Room, at the top of Pad 39A. That's the entry
hatch to the Apollo 11 command module," Corwin said, pointing at the
small doorway. "That's Gunther Wendt, the pad leader," he went on,
pointing with a fond smile to a hawk-nosed man on the far side of
middle age who was adjusting a control panel on one of the White
Room's walls. "Believe it or not, 'I wonder where Gunther Wendt?'
passed for high humor around this place in those days."
Utena chuckled. "Anyway," Corwin continued, "this is the part
where the program -does- have special costumes for us, so hang on a
second... "
Another one of those fuzzes of static, and now Utena found
herself dressed in a bulky environment suit, similar to the one she'd
worn when Corwin took her to the Moon, but a lot heavier and stiffer,
with much clumsier gloves and an external ventilator which she had to
carry like a briefcase, attached to the chestpiece with hoses. Corwin
had one too, complete with plastic bubble helmet. The little nametag
on his chest said "ARMSTRONG".
"The early spacesuits weren't much for comfort, were they?"
Corwin agreed with her unspoken thought. "The simulation's about to
go live - the pad crew will be able to see us when we cross the
threshold into the room, but they won't recognize us for who we are -
they'll think we're the historical figures we're replacing. I'm the
spacecraft commander, Neil Armstrong. You're Mike Collins, the
command module pilot. The lunar module pilot was a man named Edwin
Aldrin, but I've scrubbed him from the sim - we're not going to let it
run long enough for him to be needed. Ready?"
Utena nodded. Given the limited room inside the helmet and
the lack of an articulated neck on the suit, that didn't particularly
work, so she added a verbal, "Ready."
They crossed the threshold and stepped into 1969. The pad
crew checked over their suits; Gunther fussed over them like a worried
den mother, occasionally addressing the third crewman who wasn't
there. Presently they were bundled one by one through the little
hatch and into a small cabin, mostly painted in industrial green,
which featured the single largest number of switches, dials, knobs and
buttons Utena had ever seen. Here they were strapped with extreme
prejudice into fabric-and-tubing couches, Gunther and his men yanking
on the straps so hard that, despite the bulky space suits, grunts were
forced out of the hapless travelers. Corwin ended up on the left,
Utena in the center.
Gunther shook their hands, wished them luck, and then sealed
the hatch over them. The little cabin was eerily quiet without the
bustle of the pad crew.
"The sim's based on transcripts and timesheets from the old
NASA records," Corwin confided, "but the developers took some
liberties. Everything took -forever- back in those days - checklists,
double-checks, controller polls... " He shook his head. "Anyway.
Here's why we're here. Like I said earlier, space travel is routine
in the modern age, or as close to it as you can get. Routine enough
that you and I could fly to the Moon on a Saturday night just because
I wanted to show it to you. In 1969, things were different. There
was no artificial gravity, no antigravity, no repulsorlift
technology. No ion drive, no fusion reactors, not even what we would
consider real computers."
He tapped the small green-numbered computer display on the big
panel in front of them with a fingertip. "There's more computing
power in Tiny Robo's targeting computer than in this whole spacecraft.
Without repulsors, antigrav or fusion thrust, the only way to get out
of Earth's gravity was to perch your spacecraft on top of what
amounted to a huge pile of high explosives and set it off. Feel that
vibration? That's the fuel pumps in the Saturn 5 booster underneath
us. Liquid oxygen and kerosene, tons of it. There was nothing
routine about going to the moon in the twentieth century.
"I wanted you to experience this before we start your training
because I think it's important to remember - no matter how hard it
seems to you in, say, mid-July, when we're up to our eyebrows in
hyperspace curvature calculations, there was a time when it wasn't
-near- as easy as we've got it in 2405." He shook his head and
chuckled at himself. "Man, listen to me. I sound like Dad. Sorry.
End of speech."
"Did your father give you the same speech when you started
getting ready for your master's exam?" asked Utena with a grin.
"Yep. He and Mom were both along, actually. We ran the whole
sim - moon landing, return rendezvous, re-entry, splashdown,
everything. I was Buzz Aldrin. Even with time compression, that took
most of a day."
"Sounds like fun. We'll have to run the whole thing
ourselves sometime."
Corwin grinned. "Sure. I'll have to shuffle things around so
you're Aldrin, though. Wouldn't want to abandon you in lunar orbit
for two days and go moonwalking all by myself." He looked as if he
were listening to some silent voice for a second, then nodded. "I'll
cut the outside voices back in now - we're down to T minus 30 and
things are about to start getting interesting... "
/* The Mavericks "Blue Moon" _Apollo 13_ */
It was an odd feeling, Kaitlyn reflected, to be standing on
what seemed for all the world like Earth (but for the slightly lighter
gravity), look up in the sky, and see... -another- planet that seemed
like Earth. Bajor was about half full (waxing, Kate thought, but she
wasn't certain of the orbital mechanics in this system), and about
five times the apparent size of Earth's Moon, and it was hanging in
the sky above Lake Jeradar and bathing the sleeping countryside in
blue-green light.
Kate walked along the lakeshore, her sneakers hanging from one
hand, feeling the soft, cool sand under her bare feet and thinking of
all the things she had to do. She was mildly surprised to realize
that she wasn't alone out here; fifty yards or so further down the
shore, there was a dark smudge against the silver sand, the figure of
a person. As she drew nearer, she could see that whoever it was, they
were seated in seiza, or something very like it, facing the lake.
Curious but unafraid, Kate kept approaching. She wondered who
it was. Someone from Port Jeradar, out for the same sort of evening
constitutional she was taking? One of the WDF Engineers? Perhaps one
of the monks from Prylar Otano's monastery?
No... she realized as she drew a bit nearer that the
mysterious figure by the lake was one of hers. It was Kyouichi
Saionji kneeling next to the lake, dressed in dark kendo garb, his
hair tied back in the loose ponytail he usually affected when training
or sparring, though he had no sword.
Saionji didn't look up as Kate approached him, intending to
pass by and leave him to his meditation; but as she came within easy
earshot of him, he said without looking,
"Good evening."
"Even-n-ning, S-Saionji," she replied, pausing. "I d-didn't
mean to d-d-disturb you."
Saionji smiled, ever so slightly. "You're not disturbing me,"
he said. His eyes opened, gleaming in the planetlight as he glanced
at her. "The question is," he asked, "am I disturbing you?"
Kate considered the question for a moment, then smiled and sat
down next to him, arranging her voluminous peasant skirt in a pool of
fabric around her. It reminded her of when she and Leonard would both
train with their father at the same time, kneeling side by side in the
dojo while the master demonstrated a technique or gave one of his
speeches on risk and awareness.
"N-not really," she told him as they both closed their eyes
again. "I w-was j-just thinking."
"About what?" Saionji wondered, and without really knowing
why, Kaitlyn told him.
There was the Castle, of course; and she would have to start
gathering readmission information from the administration as they got
themselves oriented, to determined how much of her old orchestra she'd
get back for the coming year, and prepare accordingly. Then there was
her -own- band, which had suddenly, unexpectedly lost two-thirds of
its rhythm section. Her recent Katsujinkenryuu mastery was starting
to really sink in. She was concerned with Dorothy's impending Turing
evaluation. She wondered about their unexpected guest's troubled
background and uncertain future. She was worried about Corwin and
Utena - not because of any physical danger that might be involved with
their summer's work, but because... well, she was just worried about
them in general. And about Miki and Azalynn. And Amanda and Devlin.
And there was the little matter of Kate being in a budding
relationship of her own, and having suddenly realized that she really
had no idea whatsoever how to go about it.
Finally, she trailed off into silence, more-than-faintly
embarrassed that she'd gone into such detail. Saionji remained silent
for a few moments, and then, with a tone of mild, gentle amusement,
observed,
"That's a lot to be thinking about on a Saturday night."
Kate chuckled wryly. "Mm," she said; then she asked
sardonically, "Any sug-g-gestions?"
"Well," Saionji replied, "let me see. In no particular order:
Kaoru and Azalynn will be fine - they're both survivors. Amanda and
Devlin will be fine - they're both too stubborn to fail. Tenjou and
your brother... " He shrugged eloquently. "Arisugawa may disagree,
but I say that's not in our hands. All we can do is watch, hope for
the best... and be prepared to pick up the pieces."
"Y-you're a real r-ray of s-s-sunshine," said Kate dryly.
"I doubt it will come to that," Saionji assured her. "If
there's one thing about Utena Tenjou which is a universal constant,
it's her incorruptible loyalty. What she's in right now may look like
an irresolvable trap, but... I have faith in her. She'll find a way
to balance her loyalty to Corwin with her loyalty to Himemiya; her
nature will permit her to do nothing else." He smiled wryly and
added, "I don't say that will be easy or quick, but there's not much
you or I can do to help."
"I h-hope you're r-right," said Kate quietly. "I'd h-hate for
either of them to g-g-get hurt. I introd-duced them, after all. I'm
p-partly r-r-resp-ponsible for all that f-follows... "
Saionji chuckled. "It's funny you should put it quite that
way," he said. "In a way, I introduced her to Anthy... "
Kate nodded. "I kn-know," she said. "I've h-heard the
wh-whole s-story."
"I've come far from those days," said Saionji, almost as if to
himself. Kate nodded in agreement; for a moment there was silence.
Then he went on, "But I've still a long way to go. A long way
until I can look Anthy in the eye and tell her how sorry I am. When
that day comes, when Utena succeeds, I want to be able to show her
that I've changed... that I've become... " He paused as if searching
for words. "... Someone she can be proud to know," he concluded.
Slowly, Saionji got to his feet. Kate opened her eyes at the
sound of his movement, surprised, to see him walk around in a
semicircle, then settle back into seiza, now with his back to the
lake, facing her. Once seated again, he bowed low, touching his
forehead to the beach.
"Please, Kaitlyn-sensei," he said softly, "accept me as your
student."
She stared at him in amazement for a few moments, then said,
"Are you s-still on about th-that?"
"My technique is in ruins, shattered along the fault lines of
my flaws," he replied. "Defeat at your hands was the first step on my
road to recovery. It seems apparent that I should throw away what I
knew before and start anew at your feet."
"I d-don't know the f-f-first thing ab-bout having a
s-student," Kate told him, arms folded. "J-just bec-cause Dad says
I'm a m-m-master d-doesn't mean I'm r-ready to t-teach."
"You have to start somewhere," Saionji pointed out, still
bowed. "As do I... "
Kate regarded his prostrate form for a few moments, then drew
a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, and said, "S-sit up, w-will you?"
He sat up, his face serious underneath the deep shadows carved
across it by the planetlight.
Kate dragged her memory for the words her father had used when
she'd first approached him, at the mightily mature age of four, and
asked him to teach her. She couldn't remember them exactly, but she
knew their gist well enough, and anyway she lacked her father's gift
for speechmaking, so she tossed the effort aside after a few moments
in favor of simple directness.
"It'd be t-t-tough," she said. "You'd h-have to t-t-take
orders f-from me."
Saionji nodded. "That's to be expected," he said.
"And w-with b-both of us in sch-school, and all m-my other
r-responsib-bilities... it'd b-be slow. You p-probably w-w-wouldn't
m-make j-journeym-man until after we g-graduate. I d-don't know
ab-bout you, b-but -I- haven't m-made any c-college p-p-plans yet... "
"I'm willing to cross that bridge when we come to it," he
replied.
"I'd have to ch-check with D-Dad... he's s-still the
O-sens-sei, a-after all."
Saionji nodded again. "Of course."
"And th-then there's W-Wakaba... "
"She'll understand," Saionji replied calmly.
"I h-hope so," said Kate. "I f-feel b-b-bad enough as it
is... "
"You shouldn't," said Saionji. "Wakaba, in her way, has come
far as well."
"I h-hope so," Kate repeated. She looked up at Bajor for a
few moments, then dropped her eyes to meet Saionji's. They sat
looking silently at each other for several moments.
Then Kate sighed and nodded.
"A-all right, K-Kyouichi," she said. "Assuming D-Dad doesn't
obj-ject... w-we'll g-g-give it a t-try. B-but don't g-get your
h-hopes up!" she admonished him, raising a finger. "I m-might turn
out to be a r-rotten t-t-teacher."
"Having seen you lead your orchestra and your band," Saionji
replied with a somber smile, "I very sincerely doubt that." Then he
bowed, his forehead touching the sand, and said, "Thank you,
Kaitlyn-sensei. I will do my best not to let you down."
"'K-Kaitlyn-sensei,'" said Kate in an I-can't-believe-someone-
just-called-me-that tone of voice. Then she grinned and said
playfully, "W-welcome to the Asag-giri K-Katsuj-jinkenryuu,
K-Kyouichi-kun."
Saionji, still bowed, craned his neck to look up at her,
cocking an eyebrow wryly.
As they got up and started walking back toward Port Jeradar,
Saionji said in a thoughtful tone, "As for the rest of your concerns,
well... I can't offer you much advice on musical matters - you'd be
better off asking Kaoru when he gets back, which I'm sure you will
do. The Castle is coming nicely, I don't think you need to worry
about that. Dorothy will be fine. And as for Arisugawa... " He
shrugged a little, smiling. "You're on your own there too, I'm
afraid. I've never understood her, and I rather doubt I ever will."
"Well, y-you're a b-big help," Kate grumped.
Utena blinked and took a couple of deep breaths as the One-Hit
Wonder's wardroom became her reality again; then, slowly, she let the
last one out, smiled across the game table, and started peeling the
electrodes off.
"That was... wow," she said.
Corwin grinned and started removing his own interface set.
"Yeah, I thought you might like it. Or at least appreciate it."
"Things really were different back then."
"If you can believe it, the Saturn 5 was a -gentle- booster.
The previous spacecraft, Gemini, was launched on a booster called
Titan, which was by all accounts a real mean ride. It was originally
designed as a weapon, and it didn't much care if it had a warhead or a
man up top when it went up."
Utena shook her head. "Unreal."
"Now that the historical background's out of the way," Corwin
went on, bundling the interface deck into a box on the floor and
replacing it with what looked like a roll of charts, "we can get
started on the -modern- stuff... " He trailed off, becoming aware
that she was looking across the table at him with an odd look in her
eyes and not listening to a word he said. Feeling his cheeks get hot,
he said, "... What?"
She only shook her head, smiled, and said, "Nothing. Just
getting my bearings back. Let's get cracking! I haven't got all year
to learn this stuff."
Corwin gave her a puzzled, mildly skeptical look, then shook
his own head and unrolled the charts. "OK, then."
As they started into an introduction to cosmography, Utena
reflected on the real answer to his question, the one she'd felt too
awkward to try putting into words for him.
He'd done it again - shown her something with a method that
Akio Ohtori might have used... but shown her a thing that Akio never,
in a million years, could have shown her.
In the spring, he'd shown her a fast car... but then he'd put
the keys in -her- hand, shown her how to find her -own- roads. If,
two weeks - God! only two weeks? - ago, he'd taken her somewhere to
just look up at the Moon, her heart would have closed in reflexive
defense, shutting out the beauty he was trying to share with her. But
instead he'd taken her -to- the Moon, to show it to her first-hand, in
armored suits which made it plain that he had no expectation other
than to share that beautiful moment. And now he'd constructed a world
that wasn't real and taken her into it - but not to deceive her, to
-teach- her, and to share another moment that he obviously felt was a
special one.
It was as though, if only unconsciously, Corwin Ravenhair had
set out to build a bridge over every raw place Anthy's brother had
left in her soul.
Utena wondered idly, as she began to absorb the relative
positions of the major stars in the Centauri sector, if he could do
the same for Anthy when the day finally came that they met. She hoped
fervently that it would be so, and soon.
Kate walked into the sitting room of the wryly-named
Ambassador Suite in the Jeradar Arms (where she and, until tonight,
Utena had laid claim to one bedroom while Dorothy and Juri claimed the
other), her shoes still dangling from one hand, and was surprised to
see Juri sitting there in one of the leather armchairs, reading a
book. At the sound of Kaitlyn's entrance, the redhead put up the
book, smiled, and rose to greet her.
"I th-thought you'd b-be in b-bed," Kate said softly, not
wanting to disturb Dorothy, who she expected was also asleep. She sat
down on the couch; Juri went to the other end and sat as well.
"I've been thinking too much," she said. "I thought about
trying to find you, but there was no telling where you might have
gone."
"I w-went for a w-w-walk around the l-lake. It was
b-beautiful," Kate said. "N-next time... c-come with me?"
Juri smiled. "Certainly. Did you have a good walk?"
"It w-was... int-teresting. I s-seem to have acq-q-quired a
d-disciple." At Juri's cocked eyebrow, she recounted the story of her
encounter with Saionji. Juri took it in with a very thoughtful
expression, and when Kate was through, she mused,
"There was a time when I would have had grave reservations
about such a thing... but... " She smiled slightly, shaking her head
in wonder. "Once I tried to deny the existence of miracles, and since
Tenjou brought me to your world, I've been up to my eyebrows in them.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm going mad," she added wryly.
"You'll g-get used to it," Kate replied with an impish grin.
"I hope so," Juri replied. Then she observed, "You're going
to be a very busy girl, with a student on top of everything else you
have to do... "
"N-never too b-busy for you, I h-hope," said Kate, a little
shyly.
Slowly, as if she were not quite sure whether she should, Juri
reached across the couch and took hold of Kaitlyn's hand.
"I hope so too," she said softly.
Kate smiled, squeezed the redhead's hand, and the two of them
sat there like that for a few minutes in a calm, warm silence.
Then, a little awkwardly, Kate stifled a yawn.
To show that she understood, Juri said in a tone of slightly
exaggerated briskness, "I'm glad tomorrow is Sunday. After tonight, I
can use the day off."
Kate grinned a little in relief, and the two women stood up.
Juri switched off the standing lamp she'd been reading by, leaving the
room illuminated only by the light of Bajor through the French doors
and the nightlights over the bedroom doors. For a moment, they faced
each other in the darkness. Kate was still holding her shoes in her
free hand.
"Well... good night, Kaitlyn," said Juri after a few seconds.
"J-Juri... " said Kate softly.
"Mm?" Juri responded.
"I... it's n-not that y-you... I j-just... I'm n-not... n-not
r-ready," Kate said slowly, now stammering as well as stuttering in
the great awkwardness of the moment.
Juri looked at her in the planetlight for a few moments more,
than smiled and stepped nearer.
"I understand," she said. She reached out one long, slim hand
and cupped the side of Kate's face, leaned nearer still, and smilingly
murmured, "Take as long as you need, Kaitlyn. I'll be here."
Then, very gently, she leaned even nearer and kissed the
shorter girl's lips.
Kate's shoes hit the carpeted floor with a soft 'thud'.
"Good night, Kaitlyn," repeated Juri softly.
"G... g-good night, J-Juri," replied Kate, and, slowly, they
went their separate ways.
Two days later, on the concourse of Babylon 5, Kaitlyn bade a
very different farewell to another tall, cool, elegant girl she'd
known far longer and, in some peculiar ways, knew far better.
"W-well, Liza," she said, "I'm... I'm g-glad you're d-doing
this."
Liza Broadbank cracked a wry smile and said, "Going far, far
away from you? Yeah... I bet you've wanted that for quite some years
now."
Kate went a little pink and said, "Th-that's n-not what I
m-meant... "
"I know," said Liza, her smile softening somewhat. She hit
Kate gently on the shoulder. "I just couldn't resist pulling your
tail a little. Old habits die hard, you know," she added with a
wink. "Anyway, take care of yourself, Kaitlyn, and have no fear: I'll
be back in September to terrorize you and your little friends with the
stories of my exploits among the stars! They'll all be so envious of
me and my adventures that they'll just -die-!" The blonde put her
hands on her hips, threw back her head, and let out a big, rolling
"O-ho-ho-ho!" laugh that set Kate's teeth on edge.
"P-P-PLEASE d-don't laugh like th-that," she whimpered.
Liza stopped as if someone had thrown a switch, looked
thoughtful, and then said as if she'd just realized it, "You know, I
hate it when people laugh like that too. My -mother- laughs like
that! It's the most annoying thing in the -world-!" She shook her
head, chuckling at herself. "The things you start noticing when your
mind snaps."
Off to the side, Saionji nodded gravely, causing Liza to shoot
him a sly little grin.
The PA system bonged and made an announcement in a language
Kate didn't understand, but recognized, and T'skaia perked up a
little.
"Final boarding call, Elizabeth," he said briskly, hefting her
duffel bag and handing it to her. "Off you go - it wouldn't do to
keep Captain Ariane waiting on your very first day. Good luck! Keep
your tail out of the mud!"
Saionji nodded again, less gravely this time. "Indeed. Good
luck, Liza, and take care. We'll see you in the fall."
Liza nodded in return. "Thank you, Sky, Saionji... thank you
for everything. I wouldn't be on this path if not for both of you. I
won't forget that. Or you either, Kate, in your way," she added,
grinning. "I feel like I should give you a goodbye hug, except you'd
probably snap my spine just out of reflex."
Kate, with smiling exasperation, brushed that silly notion
away with a gesture of her hands and embraced her erstwhile nemesis.
"Good l-luck, Liza," she said. "I m-mean that. I'll... I'll
s-s-see you when you g-get b-b-back."
"I'll send you all a postcard from the Crab Nebula," Liza
promised airily; then she shouldered her bag and trotted off to the
boarding gate, singing "See You In September" somewhat painfully
off-key.
Kate watched her go until the gate had closed behind her and
the t'skrang trading ship had undocked and pulled away; then the three
Duelists went to one of the monitors to watch it enter the metagate
and vanish.
"That," Kate mused, "w-was a s-s-surreal exp-perience. N-not
BAD surreal... j-just surreal."
"I hope she finds what she's looking for out there," said
Saionji.
"She will," T'skaia said positively. "We t'skrang have a
saying:"
"(Of course you do,)" Saionji murmured with a dry little
smile.
Sky paid the interruption no heed at all and went on grandly,
"'All things of value can be found somewhere along the river.' Of
course, 'the river' is rather more of a metaphor nowadays than it was
when the saying was coined, but you get the idea... "
Kate nodded. "I h-hope so," she said. "Well. C-c'mon,
Kyouichi-k-kun; let's g-go see D-Dad about your app-plication."
"Success, Mr. Saionji," said T'skaia with a formal bow. "I'll
see the two of you back on the surface this evening."
SUNDAY, JUNE 6, 2405
11:07 AM
ALAN TURING INSTITUTE FOR THE STUDY OF CYBERNETIC LIFE
TURING III, NIVEN SECTOR
R. Dorothy Wayneright was not a person given to anxiety.
Though more emotional than she had been only six months ago, she was
nonetheless of a mainly phlegmatic disposition, and that was not
inclined to change just because she had found such wonders in the
world as friendship, warmth, loyalty and passion. She did not
fidget. She did not pace. She did not worry at buttons or chew her
fingernails or glance compulsively at clocks.
Having been her roommate since February, Juri Arisugawa
certainly knew all this. It was a prime factor in their successful
partnership as roommates, since Juri was a person easily annoyed by
neurotic habits. Having lived alone for several years, she required
a certain measure of quiet and serenity in her surroundings. As such,
she found it quite telling that, as she sat on the bench in the
corridor outside Hearing Room 17, R. Dorothy kept tapping her right
index finger against her knee.
Today, though, Juri didn't grudge her friend that one little
gesture of nervousness. After all, the board empaneled in that
hearing room was only going to decide whether or not Dorothy was a
sentient lifeform today.
Dorothy noticed her roommate looking at her, turned her head,
and said, "You might as well go to lunch."
Juri smiled her little Vulcan smile and replied, "That's all
right. I think I'd rather stay here. Besides, Kaitlyn will bring me
back something to eat."
"As you wish," Dorothy replied, and turned her eyes back to
the doors. Juri didn't take offense; Dorothy's tendency toward
curtness was a matter of efficiency more than rudeness, and besides,
she was on edge today - she wouldn't be tapping that finger otherwise.
Dorothy had no need to glance at the clock on the wall near
the elevator, or to wear and consult a wristwatch; she always knew
exactly what time it was. Part of her sensory apparatus was a small
sub-etheric transciever which synchronized her onboard time sense to
the Galactic Standard Atomic Time Signal. She knew exactly when it
was 11:10, then 11:15, then 11:20. At 11:22:17.093, the rest of the
Duelists' Society returned from lunch, and, true to Juri's prediction,
Kate had brought her a hamburger, a packet of fries, and a cherry Coke
from the Johnny Rockets in the Institute's food court.
Moose MacEachearn was with them, having arrived from Hoffman
half an hour earlier. He greeted Dorothy and Juri with a big smile
(and on Moose, a big smile was a -big- smile) and informed them that
his family was very well, thank you. So too were G'Kron, freshly
arrived from Narn, and Mac McKenzie, crisply formal in his Freespacer
dress uniform. They chatted for a few minutes, catching up on the
latest from Mac's job with the contractor performing the Fleet refit
and G'Kron's time with his family. Mac didn't say much; most of his
energies were being channelled straight into pulling himself together
from the warp-speed journey to Turing III, so that he wouldn't look
shocky and twitchy for the Board.
Presently, an opening in the conversation appeared, and into
it Juri inserted the question Dorothy wouldn't allow herself to ask:
"Any sign of the others?"
"C-Corwin and Utena are... " Kate took her pocket watch from
the obi of the kenjutsu-inspired formal garb Juri had bought for her
on Babylon 5, consulted it, and tucked it away again. "... T-t-twenty
minutes out in m-m-metaspace. C-cong-gestion at the T-Tomodachi
Gate. Th-they'll be here."
"No word on Miki and Azalynn, though," said Wakaba Shinohara
glumly. "There aren't regularly scheduled flights from Dantrov
to... well, anywhere... so there's no telling -how- they're getting
here." She sighed.
"I hope they're all right," said Saionji.
Suddenly, there was someone on his back, slim coppery arms
encircling his neck, matching legs about his waist, and something
sharp nipped at his earlobe before a familiar voice told him,
"Oh, we're just fine... "
Saionji staggered, putting his hand against the marble wall to
keep from falling into Juri's lap. Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan alighted
from his back like an heiress getting off the boat train from
Southampton, pirouetted, and asked the assembled group,
"Did you miss me?"
There were pleased greetings all around, and Kaitlyn, for one,
noticed that Azalynn certainly did look better than she had when she'd
left Babylon 5 for Dantrov, the day after the founding of Mandeville
Memorial had been announced. Then she had been unusually subdued,
almost frightened, suffering from an imbalance of emotion she
attributed to too long away from her homeworld and other Dantrovians.
Now she was, by all appearances, her own self again, bright-eyed,
sprightly, and flirtatious, her smile as broad and as bright as it
could be. Like all of them, she was dressed formally, in the scarlet
two-piece bodysuit and voluminous, airy sari/toga hybrid wrap she'd
worn to the WPI Spring Formal.
A bit behind her, standing with a backpack slung on one
shoulder and a fond little smile on his face, stood Miki Kaoru, and if
the change in Azalynn was dramatic, in Miki it was almost -shocking-.
He was dressed in a relaxed-looking, slightly crumpled summer suit of
cream-colored linen, a white shirt, and a yellow striped tie, brown
and cream saddle shoes, and a straw Panama hat - the very picture of a
young gentleman on holiday in sunny Cairo, or perhaps the Caribbean.
He even had a furled sun umbrella, which he was holding like a cane.
The pale cream color of his clothes threw his suntan into sharp
contrast; he was almost as coppery as Azalynn, and she looked that way
rain or shine. It looked a bit odd against his bright blue hair and
made his cobalt eyes look paler than they really were.
Wakaba turned and goggled at him. Truth be told, -all- of
them goggled at him a bit. Saionji leaned against the wall next to
Juri's bench with his arms folded, smiled with mild sardony, and said,
"Been getting a bit of sun, Kaoru? I thought spring on Dantrov didn't
start until next month."
Miki grinned. "Azalynn's family took an equatorial holiday
this year."
"Without telling me they were going, thank you -very- much,"
said Azalynn indignantly. "Took us -three days- to find them. We
almost missed the Festival of the Fudge Sauce."
"... the Festival of... OK, no, I don't wanna know," said
Wakaba, shaking her head.
"Are you sure?" asked Azalynn. "It's a really interesting
story."
Wakaba nodded. "I'm sure. Thanks anyway."
Azalynn shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then she focused on the
girl of the hour and asked, "So, Dorothy - how do you think things are
going so far?"
Dorothy looked thoughtful, then replied, "The Board are
difficult to read - by design, I'm sure - but the practical tests have
gone well, and I'm confident that I've passed the physical and
intellectual challenges. In the end, though, I believe it will all
come down to the character assessment." She smiled very slightly.
"I'm grateful that you were able to make it."
"We wouldn't miss it," said Miki. He stepped around the
Dantrovian, smiling, and then hesitated. Dorothy got to her feet and
hesitated in turn, and then the two embraced. "-I- wouldn't miss it,"
he added in a softer voice as he hugged her. "I've missed you,
Dorothy."
"I've... " She took a half-step back, their hands still on
each other's shoulders, and a hint of color came into the bridge of
her nose. "I've missed you too," she replied softly. Then she looked
over his shoulder at Azalynn and inquired with a slightly impish
smile, "Was he helpful?"
"Very," Azalynn replied, without a trace of jest. "I don't
know what I would have done without him. Thank you."
Dorothy took that in, considered it, and then nodded in her
understated way.
T'skaia, the Duelist Society's resident t'skrang, checked his
own watch and tch'd. "I hope Miss Tenjou and Corwin don't meet with
any further unexpected delays. As it is, given time for landing and
arranging ground transportation to the Institute - "
As though summoned by the t'skrang's concerns, two figures
materialized in the corridor amid the blue-white wash of a Utopia
Planitia matter transporter: Utena Tenjou, in the full-dress uniform
she was entitled to wear by virtue of her International Police
Organization Space Force Reserve commission, and Corwin Ravenhair, in
the sharpest-looking double-breasted black suit ever.
"... or not," said T'skaia, bemused; then he swept his
tricornered hat from his pointy pteranodon head and bowed formally to
them. "Greetings, wanderers," he said. "I trust your travels go
smoothly so far?"
"So far, so good," said Utena with a grin. She took a moment
to embrace her roommate, admired Miki's suit and his tan for a second,
then turned to Dorothy, hugged her too, and said, "Sorry we were
almost late. Freighter accident at the Tomodachi Gate... "
"Oh, dear," said Mia. "I hope no one was hurt."
"Nah, just some bozo fat-fingering his helm and jackknifing a
Super Clydesdale in the approach lane," said Corwin. "He didn't lose
hull integrity or anything, but he wrecked his impulse reactor and had
to be towed out. Time it was all said and done, it almost would have
been faster to hyperspace to New Hokkaido and use -their- gate..." He
shrugged. "But we're here now." He grinned and angled a thumb at
Utena. "And my student here got a valuable object lesson in why it
pays to stay focused when you're piloting into a Gate."
Utena grinned back and retorted, "Somehow I doubt I'll ever be
flying anything the size of a Super Clyde, Professor Ravenhair."
"You never know," Corwin replied. Then he stood for a moment,
taking in the sight of Dorothy in her best dress, the scarlet and red
gown his Aunt Belldandy made for her. She'd added her broad-brimmed
round hat and put on just a touch of makeup; he thought the overall
look suited her very well, and told her so, after giving her a hug.
It was just as he was stepping back and preparing to say
something encouraging that the door to the hearing room opened and the
uniformed functionary informed them all that the Board had reconvened
and would hear character references now. Utena tugged her uniform
jacket smooth and adjusted the chain that hung from her rank bar to
her star badge, then patted Dorothy encouragingly on the shoulder, and
they all entered the chamber together.
R. Dorothy sat bolt upright in the petitioner's box (which
rather resembled, in position and appearance, the prisoner's dock in
old English courtrooms) and watched with outward calm as a parade of
people took the witness stand one by one and declared themselves her
friends before the five beings who, in this case, constituted the
Turing Board: a small blue Autobot she didn't recognize, two humans,
an elderly Salusian woman, and the ever-shifting blob of a Dralasite.
Of course, they were doing more than that - they were
answering specific questions and giving specific examples of Dorothy's
capacities for friendship, loyalty, compassion - and negative emotions
too, anger, annoyance, vengefulness. It all went into the
evaluation. As the Dralasite, Bordag Gelp, had informed her at the
outset of the evaluation on Friday afternoon, "It's not really
important to us whether you're a -good- person - although it probably
won't hurt if you are."
As with Horta, it was often difficult to tell when Dralasites
were joking.
Corwin spoke at length, describing the circumstances under
which he had come to own Dorothy, her history before that point as
best he knew, and her time with him since then. He left no doubt in
any observer's mind that he believed totally in his possession's right
to be free of him - a relatively rare position for owners to take,
even if they -did- have to sponsor their robots' petitions for
emancipation to get this far in the first place. Very carefully, he
restrained himself from soapboxing about cybernetic rights reform -
this wasn't the place, and he didn't want to do anything that might
prejudice the Board against him and, by association, Dorothy.
Kaitlyn, who knew better than most his disdain for the present
system (under which, as he had once put it, people like Dorothy had to
"scrape and do tricks" to claim their natural sentient's rights), was
proud of him for that self-restraint. So too was Utena, who had heard
many of the same restrained rants during the quiet bits of their many
times together. Dorothy evinced little visible reaction, but those
who knew her could tell she was relieved as well. As he quit the
stand, such-a-polite-young-man image intact, he threw her a subtle
wink, to which she responded with a vestigial smile.
The next person to speak was, coincidentally, Corwin's mother,
the renowned roboticist Dr. Skuld Ravenhair of the Nekomi Institute of
Technology on Tomodachi. She addressed the Board members as a
colleague, explaining to them various technical details of Dorothy's
construction, and then digressed into a more personal assessment which
was, in every respect, glowing. Like Corwin, she refrained from
preaching about the sad state of machine-life rights in the galaxy.
One by one they spoke, including several whose presence
surprised Dorothy considerably. Professor Ravi Chandrijan, late of
the WPI Literature Department (and soon to occupy a similar position
on the faculty of the Mandeville Memorial Institute), bubbled over
with eager testimony as to Dorothy's keen intellect, inquisitive
spirit, and insightful fondness for the subject he taught. Professor
Kraalgh, the WPI (and now DSM) Duelists' Society's faculty advisor,
took the stand in his Klingon battle finery and insisted that she was
a creature of great honor. Julian Bashir, the chief medical officer
of Babylon 5 and Dorothy's unofficial vet, grinningly informed the
Board that Dorothy Wayneright was a person thoroughly committed to the
proper care of her pet cat, Peril.
The vessel which had brought those three men and most of the
Duelists to Turing III was the command of Corwin's father, IPO Space
Force Captain Benjamin Hutchins, known to all as Gryphon. Since
Dorothy had lived under his roof during her time with Corwin (-well-
under it, since she'd spent most of her time in Corwin's underground
workshop complex, but still), Gryphon took the stand himself. So did
his executive officer, Lore Soong, himself a Turing-certified
mechano-humanoid; he explained that Dorothy's construction was an
evolution of his own, her creator having been Dr. Timothy Wayneright,
the protege of his own creator, the famed roboticist Noonian Soong.
That seemed to leave quite an impression on three of the Board
members, though the old Salusian and Gelp didn't seem very moved by it.
The sheer -number- of her supporters shocked Dorothy as she
watched them cross the witness stand; she'd never thought before about
just how many would be here today, never stopped to count them up in
her mind. Here was Juri describing their rooming arrangement at WPI,
every bit of her cool self-possession marshalled to impress upon the
Board that she knew exactly what she was talking about when she
described Dorothy as her friend. Here was Azalynn imparting the act
of great compassion Dorothy had performed in allowing Miki to
accompany her to Dantrov when, by rights, he probably should have been
helping Dorothy prepare for this evaluation. Here was Miki - Miki in
his cream-colored suit and yellow tie, combed, clean-cut, eminently
presentable, telling the Board that he and Dorothy were lovers without
a trace of embarrassment or shame on his boyishly handsome face.
The revelation caused a bit of a stir in the gallery, and a
bit of a stir in the Board, come to that; the old, white-haired,
gray-furred Salusian seemed tickled pink by it, the Dralasite formed
himself into a cube of not-displeased astonishment, the Autobot didn't
seem to understand what the big deal was, and the two humans were
scandalized. Typical, thought Corwin as he fought not to smirk in the
front row.
Dr. Emmett Taylor, one of the two humans, began a vigorous
cross-examination on this point. Miki, drawing on all the open
unshockability his time on Dantrov had given him, remained resolutely
unembarrassed, but quite firmly put a stop to it when he felt that the
level of detail was becoming needlessly granular. Dorothy sat in the
petitioner's box with a smile and a furious blush competing for real
estate on her face - a most unusual expression for her, and one which
all her friends took time out to savor.
Once that was settled (and the bridge of Dorothy's nose
stopped burning), Saionji came to the stand and told them that he'd
taught Dorothy some meditation techniques based on his kendo studies
and that she'd taken to them very well. He remarked that, in his
opinion, she would make an excellent martial artist, if she ever found
the inclination to take up such a course of study.
Before such a large, varied group of total strangers, Kaitlyn
took a long, painful time to make her agreement with Saionji and other
salient points understood - but she stuck gamely to it, soldiering on
(after being rather stuffily denied permission to sing her testimony
by Dr. Taylor) and generally taking the attitude that, if the Board
wouldn't let her address them in a manner that was easy for her, then
they didn't get to hear her testimony in a manner that was easy for
them, either.
The afternoon went on, and still they came. Wakaba said she
didn't know Dorothy well, having met her the most recently of any of
her fellow students, but there had never been any doubt in her mind
that her old schoolmate Juri's auburn-haired roommate was a real
person. Mac concurred with this and said he had enjoyed having her as
a roommate until she'd been forced out of Galaxy House through the
petty maneuvering of a faculty member he preferred not to name.
G'Kron had no such compunctions, and blustered quite effectively about
the narrow-minded bigotry of Professor Aaron Harris, adding that he
trusted none of the Board were of such limited mentality - but then,
if they were, he said with a confident, we're-all-cleverer-than-that
smile, why would they be here? It was a bravura performance by the
young Narn, and his friends smiled and told themselves that he had a
bright future in his homeworld's diplomatic corps someday.
A courier delivered a notarized deposition from Edward
Tivrusky and Ein (current whereabouts unknown) which went into
excruciatingly technical detail as to just why Dorothy's positronic
personality matrix had to be considered a sentience - then added that
Ein liked her, which was, according to Edward, as good for purposes of
arbitration as the unfiltered Word of God. A visibly amused Moose
MacEchearn kept it short, simple, and along those same lines: he
didn't have much patience for AI systems and robots, he liked Dorothy,
quod erat demonstrandem. Mia concurred with Moose's assessment,
mentioning the Minbari reverence for life in all its forms and
indicating that there was no doubt in her Minbari-trained heart that
Dorothy was worthy of that reverence.
Janice Barlow, crisp and fresh in an IPO trainee's uniform,
testified that she'd been Dorothy's Resident Advisor for two terms at
WPI and had had no trouble whatsoever with her. A Corellian-descended
colonist of the rimworld Ragol, she was familiar with simple droids,
and she could and did wryly assure the Board that Dorothy was no
simple droid. After her, T'skaia explained the Barsaivian concept of
sentients as Name-givers, pointed to the example of Peril, and then
went on at some length with a rather elliptical but interesting
discourse on the four t'skrangish pillars of a Name-giver's worth in
life and R. Dorothy's admirable standing with all of them.
At four-thirty, when all the Duelists and their friends had
spoken except for Utena and she was just preparing to take the stand,
the doors at the back of the room opened. To the surprise of almost
everyone in the hearing room, in marched a dozen armed Romulans
dressed, incongruously, in the uniform of the Gamilon Imperial Guards.
This honor guard, led by a short and well-built Gamilon redhead,
flanked the dress-uniformed, regal presence of Princess Amanda Elektra
Dessler and the grinning, blond-shocked figure of Devlin Carter, who
waved gaily to the startled girl in the petitioner's box.
"I am Dessler of the Lorica," said Amanda, her imperial voice
in full plumage. "I apologize for disrupting these proceedings, but
we were delayed in transit and we -must- speak."
Dr. Taylor, who seemed to be the resident fussbudget on this
particular Board, sputtered a bit, but old Dr. Sqirl told him to stuff
a sock in it and bade the Princess of Gamilon say her piece.
This she did, describing Dorothy's loyalty to the Duelists'
Society and praising her heroism in the Society's battle against the
forces of the Psi Corps, which had sacked their school and nearly
killed several of them in their zeal to capture Devlin Carter. The
Board were quite aware of this incident, of course; while trying to
twist events to their own purposes, the Corps had spuriously filed to
rescind Dorothy's application for evaluation, a shenanigan of which
the Board took a very dim view.
Then Devlin said -his- piece, describing his own friendship
with Dorothy, their confrontation with Professor Harris at WPI, and
their subsequent transfer to Professor Chandrijan's class. Upon
hearing that the Professor had already been heard from, he was
delighted and said that in that case he had very little to add, but
that he would be obliged if the Board would let him point out, as
Amanda had, what a good and true friend she'd been to them during the
whole crisis.
Finally, at 4:55, with certain members of the Board looking
rather tired and, well, bored, Utena Tenjou ascended to the stand and
stated her name for the record.
"My name is Utena Tenjou," she said, "and I guess you could
say that I'm the reason Dorothy is here today."
She didn't raise her voice, but she spoke firmly. As she
described Dorothy's transformation from withdrawn, self-dismissing
doll to calm, self-possessed, poised young woman over the past two
school terms, Utena recaptured the wandering attention of the Board.
By the time she finished, she had them all - even Dr. Taylor - nodding
and jotting notes.
"Months ago - on the morning of my birthday, in fact - Dorothy
and I had a conversation," she said. "We talked about how
intimidating it is to grow up and take responsibility for yourself,
and the courage it takes to do that in a world where it sometimes
seems as if everything is aligned to keep you from succeeding. You
don't necessarily have to be a robot to feel that way," she told them,
her eyes hardening. "In some worlds, you only have to be a girl.
"Dorothy and I have both faced the same choice," Utena
concluded, her chin held high. "We've both chosen to climb out of the
box and face the world on our own terms. If this Board cannot see fit
to recognize that choice and that courage, then, as I see it, it won't
just have denied Dorothy her rightful place in the world - it will be
denying that -I'm- a real person, or Kaitlyn, or anyone else who's had
to make that choice and fight that fight. Humanity isn't about birth
or construction." She touched her chest, her eyes defiant, and said,
"It's about -spirit-, and if Dorothy didn't have that, she wouldn't be
here in the first place."
Her piece said, Utena composed herself, gave a short bow,
thanked the Board for its time, and retired amid the impressed
applause of the gallery.
She went back to her seat, outwardly calm and inwardly feeling
that familiar, fluttery "I said WHAT to WHO?" sensation that she
always got at moments like this. Taking her place next to Corwin, she
glanced at her watch, and for just an instant, as the crystal face
caught the overhead lights, she saw Dios grinning at her, his thumb
raised in approval.
Chuckling faintly, Utena sat back and waited for the Board's
decision.
The five scientists conferred among themselves in field-muted
silence for a few minutes, but it was impossible for those watching
them to tell what direction the discussion was taking. It didn't seem
to be an argument, only a fairly mild exchange, and they showed no
signs of retiring to chambers. After a few tense minutes, they all
nodded to each other, and Emmett Taylor stood up and clicked off the
acoustic damping field.
"This Board has reached its decision," he announced without
preamble. "The petitioner will please rise."
Dorothy got to her feet - and in the gallery, so did Utena,
and Corwin, and Kaitlyn, and then all the rest of the Duelists and
their friends.
"R. Dorothy Wayneright," said Taylor, pretending not to notice
the gallery, "it is the decision of this duly-empanelled Evaluation
Board, and thus of the Turing Institute, that you have met the
qualifications and requirements for designation as a sentient life
form, with all the rights and responsibilities thereunto ascribed by
Galactic law. Is there a representative of your home polity present?"
Gryphon, standing up in the gallery with the rest, raised his
hand and said with a dry smile, "I believe I can speak for the
Republic of Zeta Cygni, Doctor."
"... Just so," said Taylor with an uncomfortable smile. "Very
well. Captain, do you concur with the decision of this Board? Will
the Republic of Zeta Cygni accept the petitioner as a fully qualified
citizen?"
"Without reservation," Gryphon replied flatly.
"Thank you, Captain. Mr. Ravenhair," said Taylor, turning his
flat brown eyes to Corwin.
"Doctor," said Corwin, nodding.
"Do you accept this Board's decision, acknowledge the
petitioner's right of separation, and undertake not to bear her animus
or seek reparation for damages incurred in the said separation?"
"Absolutely," Corwin replied.
"Very well. In that case, congratulations, Miss Wayneright -
Your petition for designation as a free intelligence is approved."
Dorothy very properly and politely thanked Dr. Taylor and
indeed all the board for their decision, but there was no way for them
to hear it over all the cheering.
The Green Dragon Inn, a large Chinese restaurant not far from
the Turing Institute in the city of Bletchley, was well accustomed to
hosting both the celebrations of the newly-emancipated and helping to
drown the sorrows of recently-dispossessed robot owners. There was
none of the latter to be done today, though, as the huge, boisterous
mob invaded the place, took over the entire second floor, and
proceeded to demolish a staggering amount of dim sum.
When they were done stuffing themselves, making toasts with
the green tea, and singing songs of triumph (the guns are hot, the
hull is ringing), the Duelists and their friends adjourned to the
Challenger's ample guest quarters for the night. They ended up
sitting around the ship's forward lounge most of the evening, talking.
Mac, mostly recovered from his flight -in- but now beginning to get a
little shocky with dread of the flight -back-, told them about his
Fleet-refit job; he looked and sounded tired, but though hard, the
work was apparently agreeing with him, because he also looked quite
content.
Devlin, looking relaxed and comfortable in the gray jumpsuit
of an IPO Psionic Services Department cadet, told them that his
training on Jyurai was going quite well, and extolled the virtues of
that lovely world for some time. Amanda, now that she wasn't holding
herself to the brisk standard of discourse that a hearing room
demanded, looked more tired than Mac.
"In the wake of the short war Xenia started in her last
attempt to remake the succession," she explained wearily, "my
responsibilities have increased dramatically. Father's way of making
certain I understand that my actions have consequences," she said, a
bit sadly. "Childhood's end is traditionally abrupt on Gamilon... "
Devlin raised their linked hands and kissed her knuckles; she
gave him a grateful smile and said nothing for a moment, then went on,
"At any rate, I'm being groomed for a new position in the
service of the Empire, a new learning experience. I can't tell you
anything more about it just now... but I think you'll all find it
interesting," she said with a wry smile.
They pressed her to reveal the mystery, but of course she
wouldn't, and the conversation drifted to other things before, with a
large round of hugs and good-to-see-yous, the group broke up and
scattered to bed.
Before they all went their separate ways at the turboshafts,
Corwin drew Dorothy aside and took her shoulders in his hands again,
smiling, his eyes a bit misty.
"Before we go," he said quietly, "I just wanted to tell you
how proud I am. I think... " He paused, sniffed a little, and went
on with a slightly teary grin, "I think I know a little bit how Mom
feels, now." He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, grinned stronger,
and added, "And one more thing. I... I don't want you to think that,
just because the Board broke the legal link between us, that you can't
turn to me if you need anything. I'm not your owner, but... I'll
always be your friend. You always have a home in my workshop if you
want it. OK?"
Dorothy looked back at him with her calm, dark eyes, smiled,
and said softly, "OK. Corwin... ?"
"Mm?" he asked.
"Thank you. Thank you for filing those applications, over and
over, until I finally came here. Thank you for sending me to WPI.
For entrusting me to Kaitlyn, Utena, and the others." She paused,
searching for words. "Timothy Wayneright built me," she finally said,
"but in the final analysis, I owe everything I am today to you. He
was my creator, but... I think in a more real sense, -you- are... my
father. And... " She paused again, looked down, and a touch of color
came to her cheeks as she murmured, "... I love you."
Tears spilled down Corwin's face again as he drew the robot
girl into another hug. "Yeah," he whispered into her auburn hair,
making a sound that was half chuckle and half sob. "I think I -do-
know how Mom feels... "
Next morning, Moose was gone, back to Hoffman; Amanda and
Devlin were gone, back to Gamilon and Jyurai; Corwin and Utena were
gone, back to Tomodachi or wherever they were headed next. Miki and
Azalynn, though, stayed; her business on Dantrov was done and both
were eager to get back to Jeraddo and be involved in the resurrection
of the old castle.
On Jeraddo, the summer rolled by, mostly beautiful days and
clear warm nights, and the WDF Corps of Engineers and the Duelists'
Society both made great strides. As the summer progressed, so did the
Castle. While they worked on their new home and saw it take shape
around them, becoming more and more like a home every day, the
Duelists and the friends who were helping them were a happy lot.
Of the bunch, though, none was happier than B'Elanna Torres.
After years of uncertainty about herself, her place in the universe,
and her future, the runaway who had mooched an MRE in mid-May and then
stayed to work it off had found her calling. Jer Johnson's act of
puckish compassion had become the sort of serendipitous defining
moment that, before that time, she had only read about (and not
believed in, at that). The result - her summer's impromptu
apprenticeship to Chief O'Brien - had settled beyond the shadow of
doubt what she wished for her life.
B'Elanna Torres was going to be... an engineer!
But first, of course, she'd need an education. This had been
pointed out to her by Chief O'Brien in early July, with the Irishman's
usual slightly gruff but gentle tact.
"Chief," she'd asked him while they worked on restoring
electrical power to the East Tower, "do you think I'd be any good at
this kind of thing? For a living, I mean?"
"What, engineering?" said O'Brien. "Maintenance and repair
work, power systems, and so forth?"
"Mm," replied B'Elanna, nodding and handing him a circuit
tester. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and... it's what I want
to do - if you think I'd be any good at it... "
O'Brien looked back over his shoulder out of the access panel
and grinned. "Well, for whatever one old man's opinion's worth, I
think you'll make a fine engineer, once you've had a chance to get
some more schooling."
"Schooling? Why can't I just learn it on the job? That's
what I've been doing all summer."
O'Brien smiled and shook his head. "No, B'Elanna, I'm afraid
that kind of thing's long in the past. Gone are the days when a
person could learn a trade through practice alone and make a living at
it. There's just too much to -know- about things these days. Take
this system, for example. If you're a real engineer at heart, you
won't be content just knowing how to fix it, keep it running. You'll
want to know how it works - WHY it works - and how you can, maybe,
make a better one."
The chief handed back the tool, snapped the access panel back
in place over the conduit and brushed off his hands, then turned to
her and concluded, "That kind of thing takes schoolwork, not just
hands-on experience. Experience is a wonderful thing - there's no
substitute for it - but if you really want to succeed in life, stay in
school and learn everything you can. You never know when -anything-
you learn might come in handy." O'Brien chuckled at himself. "Listen
to me. You can tell my wife's a schoolteacher, can't you?"
B'Elanna smiled at the jest, then sighed, looking
disconsolate. "But I'm so far behind everybody else my age," she
said. "My mother's family isn't big on book learning. How am I
supposed to catch up now? Where can I go for something like that?"
O'Brien couldn't help it; as he packed up his tools, he
started laughing. B'Elanna folded her arms and scowled at him. "What
the hell's so funny about that?!" she demanded.
O'Brien shook his head, still chuckling, and replied, "Sorry,
B'Elanna, it's just... what a question! Look around you! Don't you
realize where you -are-?"
For the next several days, the half-Klingon girl had
considered the engineer's words. Finally, a week after her
conversation with O'Brien, she'd taken her concerns to Mia Ausa,
operating on the possibly-flawed but attractive logic that half-breeds
had to stick together.
As it happened, when B'Elanna found Mia, she was sitting on
the low stone wall that flanked the path from the Castle down to the
Common (not angular enough to be a Quad) talking with Chenann about
matters Minbari. B'Elanna said she didn't want to interrupt and could
come back, but after both girls insisted that she wasn't disturbing
anything they couldn't get back to later, she told them both her
concerns.
"I know Chief O'Brien meant well," she concluded, "but this
place... if it's really supposed to be the... the reincarnation of
WPI, then it's going to be way too elite for -me-. I haven't been to
a real school since I was six, and what they taught me on Qo'noS isn't
likely to be of any use anywhere else." She sighed. "-And- I don't
have any money for tuition or anything. You guys have been putting me
up out of charity... "
Chenann grinned. "You've been working your butt off to earn
your keep, kid. Charity don't enter into it."
Mia nodded. "I must agree. You've more than repaid the
Society's hospitality. Not only have you worked hard to help us with
the Castle, but we enjoy your company, too," she added with a smile.
"As for the Institute, well... it's true that it's going to be a
demanding school, but you're a very smart girl, B'Elanna, whether you
realize it or not. Not many twelve-year-old girls - "
"I'm thirteen," B'Elanna insisted, scowling that thundercloud
scowl that made her look the most Klingon (and, ironically, often
appeared when someone made the mistake of assuming she -was- a full
Klingon). "... Almost," she added, subsiding into a sheepish grin
when Mia fixed her with a look of gentle skepticism.
"Yes, well," Mia went on tolerantly, "not many almost-thirteen-
year-old girls or boys could do what you've done this summer, coming
from a background of... " She paused, trying to find a way to say the
next part without seeming condescending.
"Benighted savagery," B'Elanna helpfully supplied.
"I was going to say 'reduced opportunity', but if you insist,"
said Mia wryly. "At any rate, it would probably be a lot of work, but
I think you could get in, with a little help from your friends."
"Maybe," B'Elanna allowed, "but how'd I pay for it?"
"The Institute is, theoretically, open to all students of
promise, regardless of circumstance. Saionji's able to attend, after
all, and he has very little money. The Admissions Department takes
these things into account."
"Bottom line, kid," said Chenann. "You want to go to DSM, we
can make it happen. All you have to do is want it bad enough."
Just like that, the Duelists' Society had another project. In
the days, they worked on the Castle, and after dinner, they banded
together to prepare B'Elanna Torres for the DSM admission test. As
many of the Duelists, including the entire Cephirean contingent, had
been required by their lack of previous school records to test into
WPI the previous year, they knew what to expect, and so the bulk of
the coaching fell to them, with encouragement, moral support, and
caffeine being provided by the rest.
Miki Kaoru, ever keen to aid in the intellectual growth of
-anyone-, threw himself into the effort with considerable fervor; so
did Dorothy, out of an affinity for another being striving to carve
out her own place in a universe that had its own ideas of her purpose.
Mia's own commitment to the project could be traced to a very similar
notion, and the very supportive note B'Elanna had received from Utena
Tenjou when she'd been informed of the project in one of Kaitlyn's
letters was motivated by that same idea as well. It was hard going,
but the young girl had never felt so firmly supported in all her life,
and she was damned if she wasn't going to make it.
#402, the Castle
DSM Memorial Institute
Jeraddo, R.B.
Centauri Sector 4492
Sunday, August 7, 2405
Utena Tenjou
c/o Skuld Ravenhair
71 Technology Avenue
Nekomikoka, Tomodachi
Rigel Sector 1609
My darling Utena:
Writing an old-fashioned letter this way seems like a silly thing to
do in this day and age, but with you off skylarking around the galaxy
with your young gentleman, this is probably more reliable than
calling. At least I know that when you get back from - where did
Corwin's mom say you were going? Enigma X-21? Sounds exciting -
you'll find this waiting for you.
Things here are busy, but mainly under control. We've got about 2/3
of the Castle habitable. Chief O'Brien & B'Elanna got the fusion
reactor working last weekend, so we've got actual lights at night and
everything! It's fast losing that rustic feeling we had when we first
started camping here and starting to feel like an actual home. By the
time you get back it should be just about perfect. (And I bet it
still won't have a real name! 20 credits says it just ends up being
"the Castle" forever & ever... )
Speaking of B'Elanna, she passed the entrance exam and it looks like
she's getting a scholarship to come to school this fall. She'll be in
the Class of 2409. She's still nervous about her family finding her
and dragging her back to Kronos, but not so much now that she's been
going to Taco Night on Krontep's ship most weekends. She's loosened
up about the whole Klingon thing, too - I guess hanging around with
Professor Kraalgh and getting to know Krontep and his crew has made
her realize that there's more than one way to be a Klingon. She's
starting to take an interest in that funny sword thing Kraalgh uses,
the what's-it-called... bat something. You know the thing I mean. I
think we might have another Duelist on our hands before too long! :-)
Last Friday we finally got the new ceiling finished in the dojo.
Tomorrow we start painting the walls. It's really shaping up! We
christened it Friday night with a series of practice duels. Juri's
started studying t'skrang saber techniques from Sky - she hauled out
some new move he taught her and just about gaffed poor Miki. He
wasn't expecting it at all. Kate whipped up on Saionji, of course,
but he's getting better. He and I draw about half the time and split
the others pretty much even.
You're going to love the room Kate picked for you two - 501, the West
Tower. Sure, you have to climb down a flight of stairs to get to the
bathroom, but the view from up there is worth it, trust me. If the
weather's right, you get a midnight view of Bajor that's just to die
for. The only problem is going to be getting two people's worth of
furniture to fit right in a round room - Kate says she's thinking
about designing it all from scratch. Chenann says she has some
ideas. If you want to have any say at all, you'd better email them
quick!
The rest of the school is coming along great too. Major Clanton says
they have 90% of the facilities work done and 95% of the buildings
raised, with "interior work proceeding at a very satisfactory rate."
(You know how he talks. :-) The roads are all done and they're
starting to put in the landscaping around the buildings that are done
on the outside. It still looks nowhere near done, but you can start
to see what it'll look like when it IS done, and I think it's going to
be really, really nice. There's lots of open space and green, and a
lot of marble and white stone; it'll be a lot more like Ohtori than
WPI was, but in a good way, I think. Say what you like about the old
place, it was PRETTY...
Now that Moose is back (he got in last night), Kate's trying to put
her band back together. Miki's willing to take a shot at rhythm
guitar, but she's still looking for a drummer. I think Saionji ought
to try it - he'd look cool on stage - but he claims to have no
rhythm. I think he's just shy. Last night at dinner, while Kate was
talking about it, Azalynn got that evil "I have a plan" look she gets
sometimes. I shudder to imagine what she's up to, but we'll probably
find out soon.
Well, I suppose I should close now; Saionji doesn't look like he has
anything important to do, so I'm going to make him rub my back. Hope
your space training is going well and you & Corwin aren't doing
anything TOO crazy, like asteroid racing or picking fights with Elasi
pirates. (If you go off and get atomized while I sit around here in
the lap of luxury, the Magic Midget will -kill- me!) Write back if
you get the time - we won't have phones in the Castle for at least
another week.
With everlasting love,
I remain,
Your enraptured servant,
WAKABA
August poised itself on the precipice and dove toward
September, taking everyone with it in an accelerating plunge toward
the beginning of a new school year. Suddenly it seemed as if there
would never be enough time for the Corps of Engineers to get
everything they needed to do done in time for the start of the school
year. The pace of construction seemed to take on a hectic edge, with
things made all the more congested and confused by the arrival of the
full administration in early August - there was a reason the Corps of
Engineers had built the administration building first. Then the
faculty started arriving, buying homes in Port Jeradar and getting
acclimated. Parents and students started coming in twos and threes to
look over the place and consider.
Then, in the third week of August, it all coalesced, so fast
that no one really noticed that it was happening until it was over.
The Corps of Engineers finished their work, packed their things,
cleaned up their mess, and moved on to the next job, and in their
wake, where there had once been wilderness, they left a complete
campus - two dozen buildings, roads, athletic facilities, equestrian
and walking trails, support facilities, landscaping, parklands, the
works.
With the beautiful summer weather showing no signs of abating
just because August was winding down, the school complete and coming
to life around them, and the Castle's renovation all but complete, the
Duelists and their friends were blissfully content. The two weeks
that remained, now, until the start of term would be spent in pure
leisure, with all the hard work behind them and no responsibilities
other than to enjoy that labor's fruits until classes began.
At least, that was the plan until the Admissions Department
did a slightly-too-helpful thing.
Utena Tenjou had never been so happy to be going back to
school before. Oh, she'd enjoyed her summer every bit as much as
she'd expected she would - more! - but the approaching term had a very
pleasant flavor to it as she disembarked from the One-Hit Wonder at
Port Jeradar in the mid-afternoon of Thursday, the twenty-fifth of
August. Her Republic of Zeta Cygni Starship Master's Certificate was
tucked into her wallet right next to her Avalon County driver's
license, Bajor-B'hava'el was shining bright, and birds were singing as
she lounged in the passenger seat of Corwin's black Griffon and
watched the sunlight sparkle off the breeze-chopped surface of Lake
Jeradar.
Corwin glanced across the car at her and grinned - he knew
just the mood she was in. What the hell, he ought to - he was in it
himself.
"You did good," he told her for the hundredth time.
"Couldn't have without you," she replied for the hundredth
time.
They grinned at each other.
"I'm surprised you didn't apply for the Institute this fall
yourself," Utena observed after a few moments. "You're smart enough
for sure."
On her shoulder, Nall snickered. "Not suicidal enough,
though," he said.
"Thanks," said Corwin wryly, "but the furball's right -
there's about a dozen people would wring my -neck- if I didn't show up
at Koopman High next week. If Buttercup and her sisters didn't get
me, Len or Achika would." He grinned easily. "Besides, if I came
here, then I wouldn't have anywhere to go on the weekends."
She chuckled and admitted he had a point, and the next moment
they crested the lakeshore rise and there was the campus, a
green-fringed expanse of buildings, walkways and trees where there had
previously been only thick forest.
"Wow," said Utena, Nall and Corwin together.
And in the corner, standing proud on the hill in the northwest
corner of the campus like a sentinel, was the angular, four-towered,
center-domed shape of the Duelists' Castle, seeming to preside over
the campus from one side and Lake Jeradar from the other. It was the
first part of the school to come into view from the road from Port
Jeradar, regal and lonely on its hilltop but for the single huge
Bajoran maple tree that stood near the main entrance. There were two
Duelists sparring on the roof, their weapons catching the sunlight as
they fought back and forth between the crenelated ramparts and the
shining bronze dome. Atop the dome was a flagpole, and flying from
that flagpole - Utena laughed as she saw it - was a white flag with
the scarlet Rose Seal of the Duelists' Society.
They pulled to a stop in the visitors' parking lot next to the
Common, disembarked, and started following the nicely-flagstoned path
up the hill to the Castle, admiring its cleaned exterior and shiny new
windows. Utena got another pleasant surprise: the big round window
over the main entrance, which had been an empty hole when they found
the place, had been filled with a large stained-glass representation
of the Rose Seal as well.
Himemiya will like that, she thought to herself. We've taken
that symbol and made it stand for something good and proud...
The main doors were unlocked, the great hall deserted.
Calling out hellos, the two crossed the hall and went through the
archway to what Kate's initial assessment had guessed was probably
supposed to be a ballroom, to be used as a dojo under the Duelist
regime. This was a large room, about double the size of the gymnasium
back at WPI, with no furniture or impedimentia of any kind. Since
Corwin and Utena had seen it last, it had been stripped to the bare
walls and painted white, which, along with the high windows, made the
place seem flooded with light.
Off to one side, what looked like most of the Duelists'
Society and several others - Moose MacEchearn's unmistakable bulk was
there, and the bald and mottled form of G'Kron - stood in an angry
defensive knot, confronted by two large men in gray and black armor.
"What the hell?" wondered Utena. She and Corwin crossed the
dojo to join the group. Kate, standing at the forefront with her arms
folded and her eyes angry, noted Utena's arrival and gave her roommate
a small, tight smile, then returned her attention to the interlopers
immediately.
They were both Klingons, both bulky and imposing. Utena
realized with a shock that she recognized one of them - the one with
the more ornate armor and the cape was Zargh Thalekh, late of Captain
Krontep's crew and now the Klingon ambassador to Babylon 5. She
didn't know the other one, although by his expensive-looking armor and
gold-studded bat'leth, she took him to be a warrior of fairly high
standing.
This one, the younger, rather ugly one, was brandishing a
white letter envelope and ranting at Kaitlyn.
" - LETTER OF CONGRATULATION! CONGRATULATION, that a daughter
of our house has been chosen to waste her time and our money at this
soft -human- school, rather than learning her proper place among her
own kind? The irony borders on INSULT!"
Utena, scowling, stepped up to the man, put a hand on his
chest, and shoved him back a couple of feet. She and Corwin flanked
Kate, adding themselves to the human wall blocking... whatever it was
Kate was blocking.
"Who the hell are you," she demanded, "and why are you yelling
at our president?"
The Klingon caught himself, straightened, and glared
venomously at Utena. "What right have you, -child-, to presume to lay
a hand on me?!"
Utena put her fists on her hips, standing shoulder to shoulder
with Kate, and replied flatly, "I'm a Duelist. That's all the right I
need in this castle. You want to try it again from the top? I'm
listening."
"He's my Uncle Klayvor," said B'Elanna Torres from behind
Utena. "The Admissions Department found out Mother's address and
mailed her a congratulation letter when I passed the admissions test.
I tried to tell him that it won't cost them anything, but he won't
listen... "
Utena glanced back at her. "And now he's here to take you
home?"
B'Elanna nodded miserably.
"And you don't want to go?" asked Corwin.
B'Elanna shook her head miserably.
Utena faced front, fixing the Klingon's beady black eyes with
her narrowed royal-blue ones.
"Then you don't go," she and Corwin said together, which
brought a faint smile of mingled amusement and satisfaction to Kate's
cold, hard face.
"You have nothing to say about it, girl," snapped Klayvor.
"As the head of the house of Klavaar, I have the right to reclaim my
sister's daughter. She is here without my permission or her mother's,
and under Klingon law she cannot remain if I wish to take her home.
Is that not correct, Ambassador Zargh?"
Zargh nodded. "That is correct, Klayvor." He turned his
stony face to Utena. "If the vestai-Kalaan has taught you anything of
our ways, Captain Tenjou, you know this to be true."
"(Where the hell -is- Professor Kraalgh?)" Corwin whispered to
Miki Kaoru.
"(Miss Juri's gone to look for him,)" Miki replied.
At Zargh's words, Klayvor's eyebrows rose, and then he burst
out laughing. "This girl-child, a captain?!" he demanded, almost
convulsed with mirth. "First the one who cannot speak blocks my path,
and now this - "(here, Standard failing him, Klayvor used a tlhIngan
word perhaps best translated "cupcake") " - courts a lesson in
manners, and you call her a -captain-? In whose fleet? The
Federation Campfire Scouts?"
"(Oh, just PUSH that button, why don't you, pal?)" said Nall
in a delighted murmur.
Zargh gave his countryman a warning look, which Klayvor
utterly missed, and said stiffly, "The sutai-Tenjou has defeated
Kraalgh vestai-Kalaan and Gryphon of the IPO in single combat. The
one standing next to her is a teaching master of one of the humans'
deadliest ways of combat. You would do well to treat both with
respect."
"I don't believe it," said Klayvor, incredulous.
"Is the one calling me a liar?" Zargh inquired, his voice
dangerously calm.
"... Of course not, Honored Ambassador," replied Klayvor
smoothly. "It is merely... surprising." B'Elanna's uncle regarded
Utena and Kate with a more appraising look that was still something of
a sneer. "At any rate, it's moot. The girl belongs with her family
and I am taking her. If you interfere with me, well... that's why I
have the Ambassador with me," he added with a jagged-toothed smile.
"You wouldn't want to cause an international incident in the shadow of
your precious Babylon station, would you, girls?"
Utena flushed and started to retort, but then someone pushed
her aside -
- and Mia Ausa shouldered her way to the front, shoving the
Klingon back another two feet just by striding forward until she stood
in the place where he had been standing.
"My name is Mia, of the house of Ausa," she informed him
coldly. "In the name of Kahless, I challenge you."
Klayvor raised an eyebrow.
"Is this a joke?" he demanded, no more amusement in his
bearing. "You -dare- invoke the revered name of qeylIS the
Unforgettable in a schoolgirl's jest?"
"No joke, Klayvor vestai-Klavaar," Mia replied. "I say that
you are in the wrong, and I invite you to put the matter in the right
hand of Kahless."
"And what is -your- special qualification?" inquired Klayvor
mockingly. "If this one is a samurai master and this one is a
captain, I suppose you are the child of a god!"
Corwin suppressed an entirely inappropriate snicker. Nall
didn't bother, but nobody paid him any attention.
"I am Anla'shok," said Mia flatly. "Will you accept my
challenge? Or will you hide behind letters and laws like a coward?"
Klayvor's hatchet face distorted with anger.
"You DARE - !" He stepped back, reached over his shoulder,
and whipped his gold-accented bat'leth into position. "So be it!" he
roared. "Anla'shok! The Anla'shok are a joke known even on Qo'noS!
Come and learn the folly of calling a Klingon warrior coward, child!"
"Hold it," said Kaitlyn sharply. "Y-y-you f-f-fight
b-b-bet-tween our w-w-w-walls... "
"... then you fight by our rules," Utena finished for her, and
Kate nodded firmly.
Miki nodded, went to the next room, and returned with a pair
of roses, aqua for Mia and red for the interloper. Dorothy did the
honors while Utena explained the rules. The Klingon snorted
derisively.
"Children's games," he scoffed.
Utena's azure eyes went glacial and gave Klayvor a look that
left him, even in his arrogant and angry state, slightly unsettled.
"We'll see," she said, and then turned and left them to it.
Mia regarded him coolly for a moment, then reached into her
demi-coat and drew her Minbari battle staff. The rest of the Duelists
moved back, all but holding their breath, and Zargh stepped aside as
well, his long, hard face set in an expression of resignation.
/* Powerman 5000 "When Worlds Collide" _Tonight the Stars Revolt!_ */
As soon as the battlefield was clear, Klayvor bellowed and
charged. Mia knew she couldn't face him strength for strength; she
was surprisingly strong for a girl her age and size, a legacy from her
Minbari mother, but Klayvor was a full-grown male Klingon and, though
not quite the size of Professor Kraalgh or his cousin Klaang (who was
big even for a Klingon), of formidable stature.
But then, she didn't -have- to face him with just her own
strength, did she?
>Molten core at the Heart of the World,< she chanted softly as
she circled back from his initial feints and kept his blade at bay
with her staff. >Relentless, restless strength, power that can
shatter mountains - heed the will of She Who Calls and lend to her
your strength: GEOSURGE!<
Orange light surrounded her, gushing up from the floor as if a
lava vent had opened beneath her. Her long black hair and her
brownish-green Ranger robes snapped in a brief but violent wind as the
light swirled around her, vaguely reminiscent of a Klingon
transporter's energy bleed. Then it dissipated, and as Klayvor took a
half-step back with widened eyes and asked no one in particular what
the hell it had been, Mia sprang forward and jabbed the butt of her
staff into his solar plexus.
Klayvor staggered, breath gushing out of him, and Mia pressed
her advantage. The boost of strength and speed that Geosurge bestowed
didn't last long, but she could feel it coursing through her and
exulted in it. It was much more powerful here on Jeraddo than it had
been on ancient, cooling Minbar; despite its civilization's great age,
Bajor was a young world as worlds go, and its moon was its
contemporary, with the tremendous heat and pressure of planetary
formation still seething in its liquid core.
While she rode the wave of power and battered Klayvor, Mia
considered other spells she might use. Many of the ones she knew were
of no particular use, since she didn't want to -kill- the man; Chain
Lightning, for example, would have been eminently satisfying, but
would probably also have barbecued B'Elanna's uncle, which, even if
the girl didn't like him, was a bit extreme.
Presently the Geosurge ebbed. Klayvor seemed to sense it, and
went back on the offensive, hammering at her defenses and chasing her
all around the room. Mia drew on every bit of her training and
experience, remembering all those sessions with her Uncle Davonn and
his fellow Rangers, the tips and tricks of millennia of fighting
heritage, and the tidbits she'd learned since becoming a Duelist. You
wouldn't think there would have been much for her to learn, being the
only staff fighter in the Society proper (Corwin's membership being
honorary), but having faced Professor Kraalgh several times now, she
knew a thing or two about fighting a man with a bat'leth, and now it
all came into focus.
Twice she came within a hair's breadth of relieving Klayvor of
his rose; twice he turned her strike at the last moment, then rattled
her teeth with his counterattack. The second time, she realized what
she'd been doing wrong; the third time, she corrected it, and scarlet
petals scattered onto the white stone floor of the dojo.
Her battle won, Mia stepped back and squared herself. She
opened her mouth to speak -
- and Klayvor, roaring, charged, one gleaming point of his
bat'leth reaching for her heart.
Standing in the archway from the entrance hall, Juri Arisugawa
and Professor Kraalgh stared in horror, then lunged almost as one,
reaching for their weapons.
"SON of a - " Utena cried, the Thorn of the Rose already in
her hand as she leaped.
Corwin was right behind her, Stick appearing in his hands with
a crack like thunder. Kaitlyn had already vanished, her hand closing
on Kotetsu no Sasayaki's grip as she flickered from sight. Behind
them, the other Duelists surged forward as one - and every last one of
them would be too late to save their friend.
Mia saw him coming, felt time stretch, and invoked the only
source of power she could think of off the top of her head.
>NALL!< she cried, her voice high and clear: >LEND ME YOUR
POWER!<
"UUWAAAAAA!" cried Nall, his little red eyes glowing like
coals, hackles standing on end.
For the merest heartbeat, it seemed as though the spectral
form of a gigantic snow-white beast hovered over Mia -
- and Klayvor was flung violently backward, slamming into the
far wall with a sickening THUD. His bat'leth clanged to the floor and
-shattered-. The metal, one of the hardest alloys known to Klingon
metallurgy, had been frozen so cold by whatever had turned it away
from Mia Ausa's breast that it broke like glass on the hard stone
floor.
Klayvor vestai-Klavaar slid slowly down the wall and crumpled
into a sitting position, his wide-open eyes blank with shock.
"Well," said Zargh Thalekh dryly. "That would seem to be a
clear victory." He stepped to the side of his fallen countryman, toed
the fragments of Klayvor's ruined bat'leth aside, and said in complete
seriousness to Mia, "Will you have his life?"
Mia stood looking down at the man who had just tried to murder
her for a moment, then said, "I don't want it," turned, and walked
away.
Klayvor shook his head, struggled to his feet. "Wait," he
said. "Ambassador, surely you don't intend to let this stand!
Interstellar law - "
Zargh turned, slowly, drew himself up to his full height
(which was at least two inches above Klayvor's), and took a deep
breath, expanding his barrel chest impressively. His face was a mask
of offended dignity.
"You were challenged in the name of qeylIS," he informed
Klayvor in a low dangerous voice. "Do you now ask me to -reverse- the
outcome of a battle which was fought in His right hand? You accepted
the challenge and were fairly defeated. The girl B'Elanna is no
longer of your house, vestai-Klavaar. She belongs to the Duelists
now."
"But - that's absurd!" Klayvor protested, starting to regain
his strength. "The girl - the Anla'shok - she cheated! Some kind of
trick - look at my weapon! It cannot - "
Zargh's face took on a look of intense distaste.
"The one is -whining-," he said, his tone colder still. "The
one is wasting my -time-." He folded his arms. "This matter is now
concluded. You will return to your home and inform your sister of
your failure. Any further attempt to remove the girl B'Elanna from
this place will be unlawful."
Then the Honorable Ambassador from Qo'noS smiled a cold little
smile and added, his voice dripping with scorn, "You wouldn't want to
cause an international incident in the shadow of my precious Babylon
station, would you?"
Beaten, his shoulders slumping, Klayvor gathered his ruined
weapon and left the Castle without looking back.
Zargh watched him go, then turned to regard the Duelists.
"Kai kassai. Well fought, Mia sutai-Ausa," he said; then he
repeated for their benefit, "This matter is now concluded," turned,
and left the Castle as well.
"Huh," said Utena. "Maybe that guy's not the total loser I
took him for."
Mia retracted her staff, put it away, and then turned,
smiling. "Thank you, Nall," she said. "You saved my life."
"What the heck'd you DO?" Utena demanded.
"I called upon Nall's power to protect me," Mia replied, as if
it were as simple as tuning a radio. "He's a white Great Dragon,
after all. They're powerful protectors." She reached and scruffled
the little dragon, adding apologetically, "I'm sorry I had to do it
without asking first, though."
"'S... 'sallright," Nall replied with a weak little feline
grin. "Heh... I never been -invoked- before," he added, a slightly
dreamy tone in his voice.
"Really? Well - I'm honored to have been your first," she
said, bowing.
"Was it good for you too?" said Nall, and he fell asleep.
"B'Elanna? Is B'Elanna still here?" Mia asked the assembled
group; and from out of their midst came B'Elanna Torres, looking a bit
overwhelmed and teary-eyed. "B'Elanna, what's wrong?" Mia asked.
The half-Klingon girl stood looking at her for a moment, then
burst into tears and seized the half-Minbari girl in an embrace.
"Well," said Utena wryly, scratching at the back of her head.
"This's been an eventful homecoming. How's everybody doing? I
passed, if anybody's curious."
"Well, then," said Moose MacEchearn with a broad grin, "I
guess we've got -three- things to celebrate tonight."
"What's the second one?"
"Why, you're home, of course," Moose told her.
Corwin took them all up to Babylon 5 for dinner at the
newly-opened Marche Movenpick, where they took over one of the long
Oktoberfest-style tables and made good on Moose's prediction of a
treble celebration. The Duelists and their friends whiled away the
evening eating, drinking, proposing toasts, telling jokes, and
swapping stories of their summer's adventures.
"Professor Kraalgh?" asked B'Elanna at one point.
"Yes, Miss Torres?" replied Kraalgh kindly.
"Will you show me how to fight like my uncle did?"
"Except for the whiny sore-loser part," Utena interjected.
"Uh... yeah, except for that," B'Elanna added with a grin.
"Certainly," Kraalgh said. "I admit to some surprise that you
would choose the bat'leth, though," he went on. "It is, after all,
such a quintessentially -Klingon- weapon."
B'Elanna considered that, then smiled.
"Nothing's perfect," she said, and the professor roared with
laughter.
"Indeed!" he declared. "Kai Torres, kai the philosopher!"
"... and then -splash-," Wakaba Shinohara was chortling at the
other end of the table. "Right into the lake!"
"I seem to have spent a great deal of time falling into the
lake this summer," Saionji agreed serenely.
"In the o-old days," said Kate mildly, "they d-d-did b-balance
training over h-hot c-c-coals. B-but," she added sadly, salting her
mashed potatoes, "we c-can't do it th-that way anym-more." She
sighed. "Ins-surance."
"-Dorothy's- your new drummer?" said Corwin.
"She's damn good," Moose replied. "Precise, powerful, and
passionate at the same time. It's almost like having Devlin back."
"No one could replace Devlin," said Dorothy modestly. "I only
aspire to succeed him."
"So who succeeds Amanda?" wondered Corwin.
"Her eldest son or daughter, presumably," said Azalynn,
causing Corwin to give her a look.
"McKenzie should be back with us in time for the start of
classes," said G'Kron.
"-Mac- is Amanda's replacement?"
"No," said G'Kron. "What? I was talking to T'skaia."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Actually," said Miki, "I've been trying rhythm guitar
myself. With Azalynn's help, I may yet become acceptable." He
triggered his watch, frowned at it, and started it again. "Amanda is
a tough act to follow, though. She's extremely talented."
"Well, I'm glad you think so," said Amanda Dessler, bringing
the tablewide conversation to a thunderous halt. The silence lasted
several seconds.
"... What?" said Rina Dragonaar with a grin.
"Am-manda!" said Kate, rising. "R-Rina! You c-c-came for the
o-opening c-cerem-monies?"
"In a manner of speaking," said Amanda, smiling dryly. "You
may remember, back in June, I mentioned that Father was giving me a
new responsibility, to expand the scope of my experiences for the day
when I take over from him?"
"Um... yeah... " said Utena.
"Well," Amanda went on, tossing back some of her long,
lacquer-black hair with a negligent gesture and smiling, "Father has
just signed the Pact Babylonica."
Kate took that in, blinked, blinked again, and said slowly,
"You m-m-mean... "
Rina grinned, came to attention, and announced, "All rise for
Her Excellency Amanda Elektra Dessler, Ambassador from the Empire of
Gamilon!"
/* Rush "Dreamline" _Roll the Bones_ */
Eyrie Productions, Unlimited He's got a road map of Jupiter
presented A radar fix on the stars
UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES All along the highway
FUTURE IMPERFECT She's got a liquid crystal compass
- Symphony of the Sword No. 2 - Picture book of the rivers
First Movement: This Old Dorm Under the Sahara
The Cast They travel in the time of the Prophets
(in order of appearance) On the desert highway straight to the
Kaitlyn Hutchins heart of the sun
Harcourt M. McKenzie Like lovers and heroes
G'Kron And the restless part of everyone
The Hon. J. Mauice MacEchearn IV We're only at home when we're
Lt. Tetsuwa Selen, CFMF on the run
Janice Barlow On the run
Zefram Cochrane
Keraht He's got a star map of Hollywood
Utena Tenjou A list of cheap motels
B'Elanna Torres All along the freeway
Chenann She's got a sister up in Vegas
Kyouichi Saionji Promise of a decent job
Mia Ausa Far away from her hometown
C.P. Mui
Reiyna Mui They travel on the road to redemption
Alicia Kelly A highway out of yesterday
Sulak What tomorrow might bring
Nall Silverclaw Birds in the last days of spring
Theodora Utonium We're only at home when we're
Fuu Hououji on the wing
Benjamin D. Hutchins On the wing
MegaZone
Jer Johnson When we are young
Susan Ivanova Wand'ring the face of the Earth
Kira Nerys Wond'ring what our dreams might
Julian Bashir, MD be worth
Miles O'Brien Learning that we're only immortal
Krontep vathKesek For a limited time
Capt. Horatio H. Hanson, WDF When we are young
Capt. Edward Pellew, WDF Wand'ring the face of the Earth
Vice Adm. Ayami Nakajima, CFMF Wond'ring what our dreams might
Capt. Derek G. Bacon, WDF be worth
Zargh Thalekh Learning that we're only immortal
Juri Arisugawa For a limited time
John Trussell
G-3N3 Time is a gypsy caravan
Al Calavicci Steals away in the night
Wakaba Shinohara To leave you stranded in Dreamland
Londo Mollari Distance is a long-range filter
G'Kar Memory a flickering light
Delenn Left behind in the heartland
Kosh Neranek
Corwin Ravenhair We travel in the dark of the new Moon
Gunther Wendt A starry highway traced on the map
Liza Broadbank of the sky
T'skaia Vorokoshiga'ar Like lovers and heroes
Ixtixtaaqitl't'chl'Vraihelt Ishkarat Lonely as the eagle's cry
R. Dorothy Wayneright We're only at home when we're
Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan on the fly
Miki Kaoru On the fly
Rewind of Cybertron
Emmett Taylor When we are young
Candace Ngouna Wand'ring the face of the Earth
Slappi Sqirl Wond'ring what our dreams might
Bordag Gelp be worth
Skuld Ravenhair Learning that we're only immortal
Ravi Chandrijan For a limited time
Kraalgh vestai-Kalaan When we are young
Lore Soong Wand'ring the face of the Earth
Kitarina Telaia Dragonaar Wond'ring what our dreams might
Amanda Elektra Dessler be worth
Devlin Carter Learning that we're only immortal
Dios For a limited time
Klayvor vestai-Klavaar When we are young
Wand'ring the face of the Earth
Construction Foreman Wond'ring what our dreams might
Benjamin D. Hutchins worth
Learning that we're only immortal
Freespacer Ambassador For a limited time
Kris Overstreet
We travel on the road to adventure
Chip & Reiyna Mui created by On the desert highway straight to the
Pearson Mui heart of the sun
Like lovers and heroes
Truss And the restless part of everyone
John Trussell We're only at home when we're
on the run
Birthday Muse On the run
Anne Cross
The Symphony will return with "Blue Moon Serenade"