I have a message from another time...

                     Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
                               presents

                UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT
                   - SYMPHONY OF THE SWORD No. 3 -

                       First Movement: Ad Astra

                         Benjamin D. Hutchins
                          with Janice Barlow
                             Pearson Mui
                           Kris Overstreet

                (c) 2002 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited


                        SUNDAY, MARCH 26, 2406
                               5:17 PM

        "Are you sure this is going to work?" asked Utena Tenjou
dubiously.
        Skuld Ravenhair finished etching the last carefully-plotted
mark in the paving stones of the plaza with her torch-tipped mallet
handle, extinguished the torch, flipped up her mask, and said, "Sure
it'll work."  She trotted off the circular pattern she'd just finished
etching, standing beside Utena.  Then she raised her left hand,
concentrating, and a message pulsed out from the Lens clasped to her
left wrist:
        <OK.  It's ready.>
        For a moment, nothing happened; then the pattern burned into
the stones began to glow with a high, searing noise.  Light sprang up
from the etched radial lines, then spread along the circle itself,
rising up like a shimmering curtain, a ground-up aurora, ribbons of
color flickering in the light.
        Something began to take shape within that light, and a moment
later, with a bell-like chime, the light was gone and the shape fully
there.
        Anthy Tenjou's rose garden now stood foursquare in the middle
of the plaza next to the Duelists' Castle on Jeraddo.
        The door opened and Corwin Ravenhair emerged, dusting off his
hands and smiling.
        "Not too bad," he said, admiring his handiwork.  "Not too bad
at all."
        Anthy stepped out from alongside Utena, surveyed the garden
house's placement, and frowned.  "Hmm... on second thought, I think
perhaps it would have been better more toward the edge of the plaza."
        Corwin looked a little stricken.  "Anthy, this isn't a
living-room sofa," he said, a trifle plaintively.
        Anthy laughed and patted his arm.  "I'm joking, Corwin," she
assured him.  "It's lovely.  Perfect."  Then, to his mild surprise,
she hugged him, kissed his cheek, and said, "Thank you."
        "You're welcome," he replied with a slightly sheepish grin.
        Something rustled inside his light denim jacket, and then a
familiar big-eared head popped out of the flap of his breast pocket.
        "Why, it's Chu Chu!" said Anthy, delighted.  "Hello, Chu Chu.
Have you forgiven me for my insensitive treatment of you?"
        Chu Chu regarded her skeptically for a moment, then climbed up
out of the pocket, poised himself on the edge, and leaped, grabbing
hold of the material of Anthy's blouse sleeve and clinging to her
upper arm.
        "Chu," he said magnanimously.
        Anthy smiled.  "I'm so glad," she said.  "Come and meet my new
family.  I think you'll like them."  She glanced at her watch, then
turned to Corwin and Utena.  "Why don't you two go and have some
dinner?  By the time I finish showing Chu Chu around, it'll be time
for my piano lesson."
        The two glanced at each other; then Utena said, "Are you sure?
We could wait until you can go with... "
        "No, no; I'll be working with Kaitlyn for at least an hour,
possibly more.  There's no need for you to go hungry.  Besides, moving
the garden for me must have been hungry work," added Anthy with a
smile for Corwin.
        "Well... " he said, shrugging with an I-can't-deny-that grin.
        Having secured agreement to this plan of action, Anthy took
her friend into the Castle to show him the layout.
        "Looks like I'm out a roommate," said Corwin wryly.
        Utena chuckled.  "Well, you'll be able to keep snacks around
longer... "

        Chu Chu's introduction to the Duelists' Castle's denizens went
fairly well.  He didn't quite seem to know what to make of the two
small robots, not having encountered such things before, but they
greeted him cordially enough that he was quickly at ease.  The only
sour note was the little creature's total refusal to be reintroduced
to Kyouichi Saionji; when Anthy made the attempt, Chu Chu hid in her
desk drawer and would not come out, however he was entreated to do so,
until Saionji, chagrined, gave up and left.
        His introduction to Kaitlyn went better - which may have had
more to do with the free access she gave him to the leftover We
Survived C-Term cake than anything else.  Chu Chu wandered freely
around Castle 501 for the hour or so that Anthy spent on today's piano
refresher with Kate.  He kept trying to strike up conversations with
the stuffed animals, mostly tigers, that were scattered about on
shelves and Kate's bed, but none of them responded to his overtures... 
except one.
        While rummaging around for some different sheet music to try,
Kate spied an amusing tableau; she paused to admire it for a few
moments, then gently nudged Anthy and pointed.
        Chu Chu was standing in the middle of the rug, looking
unconcernedly up at Serge, who loomed over him in a most intimidating
manner.  Anthy felt a moment of nervousness - though not fully grown
by any stretch, the tiger was still big enough to snap up Chu Chu in a
single bite and leave nothing behind but a spot on the rug - but she
realized that such worry was silly.  Serge was a neotiger, after all;
he wouldn't do something as ill-mannered as devour a guest.
        Instead, he sniffed experimentally at Chu Chu, making the
little grey creature's ears ruffle in the breeze, and gave him a
rather comically quizzical look, as if to say, What sort of animal are
you?  Monkey?  Mouse?  Opossum, perhaps?
        "Chu!" said Chu Chu, gesturing for Serge to come closer.
Serge, puzzled but accommodating, lowered his head almost to the
floor, at which point Chu Chu jumped up on top of it and started
scruffling behind the tiger's ears with both hands.
        "Grmmmmph," said Serge, who crumpled contentedly into a
lounging couchant posture, head on forepaws, eyes blissfully closed,
tail lazily dragging back and forth across the carpet.
        "Well," said Anthy softly, "it looks like they're going to be
friends."
        "So it w-w-would seem," Kate replied with a grin.

        "So," said Utena from one side of the Usual Booth at Celestial
Pizza.
        "So," Corwin replied.
        "How's your project coming along?" Utena asked.
        "Not bad, not bad," Corwin replied, leaning back in the bench
and smiling.  "How's yours?"
        "Huh?  I don't have a - "  Utena trailed off, then went red and
shook her finger at Corwin in embarrassed admonishment.
        "Gotcha," said Corwin with a mischievous grin.
        "Large pepperoni, Canadian bacon, extra cheese, Delivered on
the Wings of Angels!"
        Utena grinned up at Zach Stephens, grateful for the
interruption.  "Zach, don't you ever take a day off?"
        "Not if I can help it," Zach replied with a grin.  "Pizza," he
added with comically exaggerated solemnity, "is my life.  Tell you 
what, though - I'd take one off if Kate played another gig.  How 'bout
it?"
        "I'll see what I can do," Utena promised him.
        "Rock on," said Zach; he and Utena shook on it, clasped-high-five
style, and then Zach excused himself and went off to serve somebody else.
        "Anyway," said Corwin after the deliveryman had gone, "really,
how're things going?  How's she adjusting?"
        "Things're good," Utena replied.  "Really.  I think she's
fitting in really well... everybody's been great, especially Kate."
        Corwin nodded, smiling.  "I'm glad.  She deserves it.  Kate's
giving her piano lessons?"
        "Yeah... she could play before, but she hasn't in... well, two
years, almost.  Kate's giving her a little refresher course."
        "Cool, cool."
        Pause.
        "So," said Corwin.
        "So," Utena replied.
        They looked awkwardly at each other for a second, then broke
up laughing at the whole situation.  Their conversation after that was
light, but comfortable, and for a little while, it was almost like old
times again.
        They walked back around the lake, talking about little things:
their tasks for the remainder of the school year, the weather, harmless 
topics.  The unnaturally prolonged winter had left the lake frozen
longer than usual, but with April right around the corner and the
weather warm and sunny for the last week solid, the ice had finally
broken up and was now nearly gone.  At the gates of the school, they
stopped, and for a few moments they looked at each other in a renewed
awkward silence.
        "Well," said Corwin, rubbing at the back of his neck, "uh...
g'night... "
        Utena grinned sheepishly at her own awkwardness and hugged
him.  "Good night, Corwin," she told him, kissed him on the cheek, and
then, with one lingering touch to his shoulder, slipped away and left
him standing alone by the gate.
        He watched her climb the hill and disappear into the front
door of the Castle, then heaved a deep sigh.
        "Ah well," he murmured to himself.  "Back to work... "
        He put his hands in his pockets, turned around, and stepped
through a crack in the universe and back into Cephiro, leaving behind
him only a brief shimmer of golden sparks.

        Corwin's first class on Mondays wasn't until ten, so after
working late into the night on Sunday, he was taking advantage of this
particular (and very welcome) scheduling quirk to enjoy some extra
sleep.  Despite its narrowness relative to what he was used to, the
top bunk in the corner room of East Hall was quite comfortable, and he
was right in the middle of a very pleasant dream when he heard the
door open.
        Immediately awake, if not exactly alert, he sat up and blinked
in the door's direction - to see Kozue Kaoru entering, a large duffel
bag thrown over her shoulder.
        "Uh... " said Corwin.
        "Go back to sleep," Kozue told him.  "It's only 8."
        Corwin peered at her, one eyebrow raised, his hair even more
tousled than usual, but she only laughed at his appearance, so he
followed her instructions and went back to sleep.
        When he woke again, an hour later, she was arranging books in
the shelf built into the back of the unused desk that had been Anthy's
back in the old days.  The duffel bag was hanging empty on a hook
inside the open closet door, which was now a bit more populated than
before.
        Corwin sat up again, swung his feet out over the edge of the
top bunk, and said, "Uh, Kozue... "
        "You can still get another half-hour or so of sleep if you
want it," she replied.  "What time did you get in last night?"
        "I dunno, 3 or so," Corwin replied, then shook his head.
"Don't try to change the subject - what the heck are you doing?"
        "Isn't that obvious?" she replied, turning around with a
smile.  "I'm moving in."
        "I can see that - " Corwin began.
        "Then why did you ask?"
        " - but that's pretty damn peculiar, don't you think?"
        Kozue shrugged.  "I got tired of shlepping clear across campus
two, three times a day.  It's a long walk over here from North Hall.
Anyway, you've got this space you're not using, so what the hell."
        Corwin attempted to look skeptical.
        "Besides," Kozue went blithely on, "I've had a guy for a
roommate all my life.  A girl gets lonely when she's suddenly all on
her own after thirteen years of constant companionship... and here you
are all alone in this big old dorm... I figured maybe we could help
each other out a little."
        Corwin frowned; he knew he was being teased, and this early in
the morning he didn't particularly relish it.  "Your -old- roommate
was your -brother-," he noted.  "Isn't there a school policy or rule
or something against this kind of thing?"
        "I have a special waiver from the President of the Student
Council," Kozue replied breezily as she turned and started stocking
the desk drawers with pencils, paper and other such supplies.
        Corwin scowled at her back.
        "-That's- convenient," he grumbled.
        Kozue turned to face him again, her expression one of
exaggerated dismay.
        "Why, Corwin," she said, making doe eyes at him.  "Don't you
want me?"
        Corwin maintained his straight scowl for about four seconds,
then fell onto his back and laughed.
        "OK, well, if you're bent on dragging my good name through the
mud," he said with heavy mock resignation, "I guess I can't stop you."
He jumped down from the top bunk, went to the closet, and selected a
uniform, making a great show of pushing Kozue's out of the way.  "Keep
this stuff on -your- side," he grumbled.  "Not used to having a
roommate that wears -clothes-... "
        Just as Corwin reached the door on his way to the bathroom,
Kozue said offhandedly, "I suppose I could stop."
        He paused in the doorway, held the pose for a moment, then
continued on his way without comment.
        Kozue giggled and went back to stocking her new desk.

        By mid-week, Anthy was beginning to be satisfied with the
condition of her poor abused roses.  There was still a great deal of
work to be done before they were actually presentable, but they were
at least in no danger of dying off (except for the bright flame-red
ones, there didn't seem to be any saving those).  In a way, all the
work that had to be done was a good thing; without classes to attend
this term, Anthy might have been a bit bored otherwise.
        She finished replanting one of the bush-type plants, got up,
brushed dirt from her knees, and turned toward her workbench to get
the watering can, then stopped and watched a little drama that had
been quietly unfolding in the doorway for who knew how long.
        Chu Chu stood squarely in the doorway, his little arms flung
wide, barring entry to a bemused-looking Kyouichi Saionji.  Saionji,
for his part, had dropped into a catcher's crouch, which was as close
as he could get to eye level with his adversary without lying down.
        The young samurai had apparently decided that the inevitable
confrontation shouldn't be put off any longer.  He crouched in the
doorway, gazing placidly at the small grey obstacle, not making any
aggressive movements - just waiting, as if for something to happen.
        Eventually this course of action seemed to confuse Chu Chu,
who was accustomed to being either stepped on or kicked out of the way
by this particular human.  He lowered his arms, tilted his head, and
peered inquisitively up at his old foe.  Had he been mistaken?  Was
this not Saionji?  But no - there could be no mistaking that face,
that hair, or that scent.  Although - there was something different
about him... 
        "Chu," said Chu Chu dubiously.
        "Chu?" replied Saionji.
        Chu Chu blinked.  "... Chu.  Chu chu, chu.  Chu?"
        Saionji reached slowly into his pocket; the movement alarmed
Chu Chu slightly, and he backed up into a defensive stance.  Saionji
raised his other hand, palm open, and when he took the first from his
pocket, it contained a small item which he offered to the monkey-mouse
with a small, contained smile.
        "Chu," he said.
        Chu Chu leaned carefully forward and sniffed at the item he
was being offered.  It seemed to be... impossibly... it WAS - food!
        Saionji had -never- offered Chu Chu -food- before.  Chu Chu
had -stolen- food from him on occasion, once with somewhat alarming
side effects that had contributed to his wariness of the man, but that
was a long time ago, and he hadn't enjoyed it any more than had Chu
Chu.
        The creature eyed Saionji warily - was this some kind of
trick? - then abruptly seized the Oreo from him and scampered off
under one of the bushes to devour it.
        Saionji straightened, chuckling, and stepped into the garden.
He looked around, smiled, and said, "Well, Anthy - everything seems to
be under control in here... "
        "It's coming along," she agreed, nodding.  "They'd been
awfully neglected, but I think someone must have looked after them at
least a little bit; I was gone too long for them to have survived
without -any- care.  I wonder who it was."
        "Hm," said Saionji.  "I suppose we'll never know," he mused.
        "I suppose not," Anthy agreed.  She collected the watering can
from her workbench, watered the transplanted rose, and then returned
it.  "Was there something you wanted?" she asked - not annoyed or
sarcastic, merely curious.
        "Not really," Saionji replied.  "I only wanted to see how you
were getting on - and take a stab at making peace with the mouse," he
added with a small, wry grin.
        Anthy smiled, noting that Chu Chu had finished the cookie and
was now lurking furtively amid the branches of the yellow rose bush,
eyeing Saionji warily, ready to spring out and attack if he made any
sudden, aggressive move toward her.
        "Keep bringing him food," she said, "and I'm sure he'll get
used to you eventually."
        Saionji chuckled.  "Well, I hope so.  It'd be terribly ironic
if he, of all people, never forgave me."
        "It'll take time for him to get used to the changes in you,"
Anthy told him, "but I think eventually he will."
        Saionji nodded.  "Well," he said, "that's good enough.  I have
to get to class," he went on, glancing at his watch.  "It's good to
see you and your plants are doing well.  It's... "  He hesitated, not
sure how to say what he wanted to say; then he proceeded uncertainly,
"It's almost like the better parts of old times."
        Anthy smiled to let him know she understood what he meant,
touched his arm in passing, and went back to work on her plants.
Saionji stood and watched her prune one of the climbing roses for a
moment, then turned, waved goodbye to Chu Chu, and left the garden
house.
        A few minutes later, while Anthy was still ruminating on the
changes in that young man - one of the most remarkable of all the
remarkable things she had experienced of late - she heard the sound of
a knock at the open door.  Turning, she saw the friendly young man
she'd encountered in the Student Center bookstore a few days ago -
what was his name?  Palmer, Tom Palmer.
        "Why, hello, Mr. Palmer," she said, smiling in welcome.  "What
brings you to my garden today?"
        "Uh... "  Palmer went a bit red and said sheepishly, "I just
saw the greenhouse and wondered what was in it, and then I saw you
working on... are these roses?"
        Anthy nodded.  "They are indeed.  I brought them with me from
my old school."
        "Wow, this whole place... "  Palmer stood on the threshold and
looked around in awe at all the differently-colored blooms, the bushes
artfully arranged and the climbing roses wound around wrought-iron
stanchions and marble columns.  To Anthy, the place still looked a
bit ratty, but to a layman like Tom Palmer it was spectacular, and he
said as much in a tone of wonder.
        "Well, thank you," said Anthy, pleased by the compliment.
"You can come in if you like," she added with gentle amusement.
        Palmer started a little, seemed to notice that he'd been
lingering in the doorway, and hesitantly advanced.  He reminded Anthy
of a little boy in a church, trying not to make noise.
        Chu Chu emerged from his lurking place and barred the young
man's path.  "Whoa!" said Palmer, taking a half-step back.  "Looks
like you've got a mouse."
        "Oh, that's my friend Chu Chu," said Anthy.  "Chu Chu, be
nice, now.  This is Mr. Palmer, a classmate of B'Elanna's."
        Tom looked at Anthy, surprised.  "You know B'Elanna Torres?"
Then he went a little pink as he realized what a dumb question it
was.  "Duh, of course you do, you live in the Castle... "
        "Chu," said Chu Chu, whose nod made it clear that he agreed it
was a stupid question.  "Chu?" he added, looking inquisitive.
        Palmer knelt down, patted his pockets, and said, "Sorry - no
food."
        Anthy laughed.  "How did you know that was what he was after?"
she asked.  "Most people can't understand what he's talking about."
        "Oh, I don't understand what he's saying," said Tom with a
grin.  "But my dad's an exozoologist, and he taught me a long time ago
that small grey animals always want a cookie."
        That got another light laugh; then she said, "A good rule of
thumb, in my experience.  Although Chu Chu isn't nearly so picky.  A
cookie, a piece of cheese, a baked ham, whatever you might have - it's
all the same to him."
        "Chuuuuu," confirmed Chu Chu, nodding eagerly at the idea of an
entire baked ham.
        Palmer smiled.  "Well, I don't know about a ham, but I can
arrange to bring -something- next time... "  He trailed off, suddenly
aware that he had presumed there would be a 'next time'.  "Um... " he
said, a little awkwardly.  "Is there, uh... anything I can help you
with, Miss Anthy?  My next class isn't until 2... "
        Anthy smiled, didn't correct his use of title, and said with a
small grin, "Well, if you really have nothing better to do, Mr. 
Palmer... "
        "Nope, not a thing," said Tom.  "Uh... and you can call me
Tom, if you like... "
        Anthy smiled a bit wider and said, "All right, then, Tom - I
don't think I've quite got the aphid problem under control yet, so if
you like, we'll tackle that next."

        Kozue looked at the clock on the wall, then stood up from her
desk and said, "OK, you guys, that's enough for today.  I'm off."
        Shiori Takatsuki looked up from her desk and smiled.  "Off to
see your boyfriend?" she asked impishly.
        Kozue gave her a look, hands on hips, and Shiori giggled.
"I'm only kidding," she said.
        "Although if anybody would have the hubris," said Keiko Sonoda
with a little grin, "it'd be you, Kozue."
        Mitsuru Tsuwabuki blushed and busied himself with the minutes
of the last meeting.  It always made him a little uncomfortable when
the girls talked about this kind of thing - which, of course, made
them take any excuse they could find to do just that.
        "Yeah, well, I appreciate the vote of confidence," said Kozue
sarcastically.  "See you guys later."
        She found Corwin in the room he'd designated for the Engine,
marking lines and spots on the floor whose purpose was not immediately
clear to her.  Since determining where he was going to build the
World-Engine for Cephiro, Corwin had done most of the work on
developing it in that room.  After the decision, they'd moved a couple
of sofas in from a storage room in order to have some semblance of
comfort in the otherwise bare room.
        Kozue didn't really have a lot to do at this phase, since it
was all taking place in Corwin's head and on various pieces of paper;
for an hour and a half out of every two hours, she loitered around,
read, did her homework, tinkered with Student Council paperwork, and
generally amused herself however she could while Corwin thought and
scribbled and calculated.  The other half-hour out of each two-hour
span was the interesting part, for it was Kozue's responsibility to
make certain that Corwin took his scheduled concentration breaks.
        During those carefully metered intermissions, they lounged
around on the couches and talked, mainly about what Kozue could expect
when she moved to Midgard after riding out the rest of this school
year.
        Corwin trod carefully around the question of just what had
happened to Kozue's brother Miki during his fifteen months in Midgard.
He figured the best way for that to get explained was to let Azalynn
explain it herself - however she saw fit to do that - when Kozue made
the transition.  Instead, he told her things she should know about
Midgard itself, the similarities and differences, the little things
and the big that she would have to get used to in moving from one
realm to the other.  She'd finished "So You've Just Arrived from a
Parallel Dimension" in their first two days, so now it was all a
matter of elaborating and filling in the details that Derek Bacon's
book had to leave out for lack of space.
        For her part, Kozue reciprocated by cluing in the new Pillar
about the history and geography of his world, things that he didn't
have much time to read up on with his Engine project taking up most of
his spare time.  At least, that was the plan; both of them found
themselves prone to digression, so their conversations took all kinds
of odd tangents.  Neither really minded; they had plenty of time, and
the only inconvenience was that Kozue was, by request, just as strict
about the ends of the breaks as the beginnings.  Corwin had a schedule
to keep, after all.

        The first week of D-term passed with relative uneventfulness
on both sides of the Tenth World's Veil.  For her part, Anthy Tenjou
marveled at how quickly and easily she slipped into the pattern of
life in the Castle, how readily she was welcomed by the Duelists and
their friends.  By month's end, it was as though she had never been
anywhere else.  For Anthy, who had never really belonged anywhere
since her brother's death, it was almost like a dream to walk among
these people and be accepted, to have people looking forward to seeing
her, to be looking forward to seeing them.
        On the afternoon of the second Friday, the last day of the
month - impossibly though it seemed, a mere two weeks and a day since
Corwin Ravenhair and the Rune Knights had appeared out of nowhere on
the dueling floor to upset all of Akio's plans - Anthy noticed
something slightly peculiar.  She was still re-learning Utena's moods
after their long time apart, but it seemed to her that the pink-haired
Duelist was distracted, discontent, all through dinner.
        Since she was normally one of the lights of Table 11 in the
the Student Center's dining commons, where the Duelists commonly ate
their evening meal instead of cooking it themselves in the Castle's
kitchen, this darker mood shift did not go unnoticed.  Kaitlyn
certainly registered it, as did several of the others, but none of
them said anything.  It struck Anthy that they seemed to know the
cause, which worried her a little bit, since she couldn't figure it
out.
        As they went up the hill toward the Castle, Anthy hung back a
little, watching Utena walking with Kate and Sergei up ahead,
wondered, and worried a bit more.  She was occupied by this when she
felt a gentle touch on her elbow; turning, she saw Urd.
        "Wondering why she's a little down tonight?" the goddess asked
quietly.
        "More than a little, I think," Anthy replied, "but yes, I am.
It's so unlike her... "
        Urd nodded with a slightly sad smile.  "And she doesn't even
know why herself - at least not consciously.  It's because it's Friday
night."
        Anthy frowned, puzzled.  "I don't understand," she said.
"Utena always used to look forward to Fridays, just like everyone
else.  We always had tea and shaved ice to celebrate the end of
another week.  They were some of our best times... "
        Again Urd nodded with a thoughtful look.  "Mm, well... I might
be going out on a limb here, but with the kind of relationship you two
have, I'm going to assume she told you all about herself and my nephew
Corwin."
        Anthy nodded.  "Yes."
        "Well, Friday was the day they always used to get together,"
Urd explained.  "Corwin would get out of class over in New Avalon,
jump in his ship, and dash over.  They'd go out to dinner, just the
two of them, walk around and talk afterward, whatever.  It was their
regular time to themselves.  Then they'd hang around with the rest of
the gang on Saturday, and he'd head home Saturday night or Sunday.  He
hardly ever missed a week."  She chuckled with sad indulgence.  "And
all the while insisting that they weren't dating."
        "Mm," said Anthy thoughtfully.  She'd already had that
conversation (and a rather frustrating one it was, too) with both of
them.
        "So I imagine," Urd went on softly, so that her voice didn't
carry beyond the two of them, "that she's down tonight because she's
missing him.  But she won't say it, of course - because it'd be
disloyal or some damn thing."  Urd sighed.  "For such a sensible girl,
she has a couple of serious blind spots."
        Anthy smiled indulgently.  "Mm, I know," she said.  "But
they're part of her charm, in a weird way."
        "Anyway," said Urd, "I dunno if there's anything to be done
about it, but I thought you should know."
        Anthy regarded the back of her beloved, still up ahead
speaking in hushed tones with Kaitlyn, and nodded with a considering
look on her face.  "Thank you," she said.
        Urd put her hand on Anthy's shoulder and smiled.
        "I'm bound from getting directly involved," she said, "but
that can't stop me from giving my favorite cousin a little advice.
Good luck... "

        Kozue noticed that Corwin seemed a bit distant tonight too,
and though she lacked the sources of intelligence that Anthy had, she
possessed enough instinct and inductive reasoning power to make up for
it.  She made a mental note not to joke with him about certain things
on Fridays.

        On Wednesday afternoon, April fifth, Anthy was working in her
rose garden and thinking.  The garden had always been a good place to
think, but before she hadn't had all that much to think -about-.  Now,
though, she had any number of things to consider, and they all got
their fair share of her time as she tended her roses.  The repairs
were done; it was all maintenance now, and preparations for the coming
summer.  She wasn't sure yet what she was going to be doing with her
summer, but if she couldn't stay on campus, she would have to make
some other arrangement...
        As she turned from trimming one of the climbing roses she
noticed, out of the corner of her eye, someone standing in the
doorway.  At first she thought it was Tom Palmer, stopping by to offer
his assistance; he was such a polite and helpful young man, she often
indulged his desire to be of use even when there wasn't really
anything much for him to do.  When she turned to face her visitor,
though, Anthy saw that the fellow standing in her garden doorway
wasn't Tom.
        This was an elderly gentleman, his face wrinkled and seamed
with age, weatherbeaten and craggy, with a large hawk nose and bright
grey eyes.  He had snow-white hair - still a full head of it - and was
dressed in an old-fashioned three-piece suit with a drooping ribbon
bow tie.  He was not more than five feet tall, and even before he had
developed his aged stoop he couldn't have been much taller.  He leaned
on a polished black walking stick, but not heavily.  His frail body,
Anthy judged, couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds anyway.
        "Good afternoon, my dear," he said, in a surprisingly rich
voice for such a frail-looking old man.  "I'm sorry if I'm intruding,
but I'd heard tell that someone had built a rose garden on campus and
I couldn't stay away."  He had an accent that reminded Anthy of the
blond-headed young man who'd been with the two Gamilon girls at her
wedding reception, but a bit more clipped and without the comic-opera
drawling aspect.
        "You like roses so much?" asked Anthy.
        The old man grinned, revealing teeth that were either very
well-kept or very well-made.  "Adore 'em," he replied.  "Some people
prefer orchids, but I say the rose is the prince of flowers."
        Anthy smiled.  "I can't help but agree."
        The old man's grin widened; then he smacked his forehead with
the heel of a hand and said, "Good Lord, I must be getting senile, and
you a kind young thing and not mentioning that the old man's lost his
manners.  Arthur Haineley, my dear.  I'm the Counselor of Students
hereabouts."
        Anthy felt a little silly dropping a curtsey in jeans, a
sweatshirt, and a muddy apron, but something about Mr. Haineley's
old-fashioned charm made it seem the thing to do, so she did it.
        "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Haineley," she said.  "My name
is Anthy Tenjou."
        "Ahhh," said Mr. Haineley, cocking one bushy white eyebrow.
"Any relation to our Duelist vice-president?"
        During their honeymoon on Titan, one of the things the
newly-wed Tenjous had agreed upon was that they wouldn't worry about
what people thought of their relationship, wouldn't hesitate to
identify themselves.  Anthy had more or less insisted upon it; after
all, she'd taken Utena's name in the old-fashioned way, as (she had
since read) fewer than half of the Federation's human couples did any
longer, and with the differences in their appearances, that would
pretty much automatically invite puzzlement.
        So it was that Anthy replied unhesitatingly, with pride in her
voice, "Yes - I'm Utena's wife."
        If she had feared the old man might be shocked or upset,
Anthy's worries were put immediately to rest, for he beamed at her and
said, "Well, congratulations!  This must be a relatively new thing?"
        "It'll be three weeks this Friday," Anthy replied, feeling a
bit of warmth creep into her cheeks.
        "Well, what do you know about that," said Mr. Haineley.  "I go
away for a little while, and all -sorts- of interesting things
happen."
        "Won't you come in and sit down?" asked Anthy, indicating a
bench near one of the columns for the climbing roses.
        "Thank you, that's most kind," said the counselor; he came
into the garden, his gait slow but steady, and settled himself on the
bench.  "Ahh... this is a lovely garden you have here, Mrs. Tenjou.
Simply lovely."
        "Please, sir - call me Anthy."
        "Well, all right," said Mr. Haineley, "if you'll call me
Arthur.  You get to be my age," he confided with a wink, "and you
don't feel as much need to stand on ceremony.  Anyway, kids don't open
up to a standoffish counselor.  I don't suppose you really need my
professional services anyway, though," he added, smiling.
        "Not at the moment, no, but thank you," Anthy replied,
returning the smile.  She went back to work, then, and the elderly
counselor sat on the bench and enjoyed the scents and sights of the
garden.  He liked this new girl.  All of the kids in the Castle were
good ones, and most of the ones at this school in general.
        Arthur Haineley had been fit to be tied when the Psi Corps had
come along and shoved him out of his job at WPI last year, and madder
still when they'd tried to bar his exit visa, strand him on Earth when
he wanted nothing more than to come to Jeraddo and resume the career
he loved.  They must have thought he would meekly accept his fate,
subside into obscurity, or perhaps they were trying to make him mad
enough to burst an artery - but either way they hadn't reckoned on the
willpower and persistence of one old man.
        He'd finally badgered his way off-planet in early March,
playing freely on his veteran status (sixty years in the United States
Navy's System Defense Fleet), his war-hero status (Navy Cross for
Gallantry, Battle of Epsilon Indi II, Kilrathi War of 2357), and his
sheer, unadulerated ability to be a pain in the bureaucratic ass until
they'd finally given up and let him go.  Then he'd been further held
up by the huge snowstorm that had socked in the entire Jeradar region
for a solid week and a half.  With the rearranged finals schedule and
all the confusion that brought with it, no announcement had yet been
made, and some of the students didn't even know he was back yet.
        Mr. Haineley had spent his first week in his new office
reading up on who was still here, who hadn't come back and who was
whom in the new Class of 2409.  He'd schedule short meetings with
everybody soon, just to say hello and get their faces into his memory
again, but he'd have to be careful how he presented that, after their
experience with that Psi Corps ringer.  He was especially looking
forward to congratulating the Duelists on having pulled the Psi Corps'
tail so effectively when the bastards had shot up WPI.  He hadn't
laughed so hard in forty years as he did when he watched that night's
Network 23 Action News with John Trussell.
        For now, though, he sat on the bench, hands piled atop the
knob of his walking stick, and just enjoyed the peace and quiet and
beauty of the garden - and the girl who was working in it, for that
matter.  She had a kind of serenity about her that was very restful,
and very rare in girls as young as she seemed.  Watching her work in
this garden, on these flowers she obviously loved, was very restful.
So restful, in fact, that the counselor dozed off.
        Anthy noticed this, and, smiling, let him be.  About half an
hour later, Tom Palmer arrived.  Upon his arrival, Mr. Haineley roused
from his nap and apologized for his boorishness.
        "It's quite all right," Anthy assured him.  "I do it myself
sometimes.  Feel free to come by anytime you'd like to nap among my
roses," she said with a smile.
        "I may just take you up on that, my dear," said Haineley with
a twinkling smile.  "In the meantime, though, I should probably get
back to work.  They don't pay me much, but it's enough to make me feel
obligated to do a little something now and again.  Be sure to come
down to the Admin building and see me if you need anything," he
admonished her.  "They call me a Student Counselor, but even if you're
not enrolled yet, you're part of the school community, and as I said,
I'm not one to stand much on ceremony."
        Anthy assured him that she would, and with a final parting,
the counselor made his way off down the hill and back into the main
campus.
        "Huh.  I didn't know we even -had- a school counselor," said
Tom Palmer once he'd had it explained to him who the old gentleman
was.
        While she puttered and listened with one ear to Tom's cheerful
stream of conversation, Anthy considered the beginnings of a plan that
had started to come to mind.  By four that afternoon it was solid; all
that remained was to implement it.

        Utena and Miki Kaoru walked up the hill together from their
last class that afternoon, Galactic History 304, discussing the finer
points of the foundation of the Corporate Sector.  Noting the door of
Anthy's garden house standing, as usual, open, they walked over to it,
then paused in the doorway for a few moments and watched, unnoticed,
as Tom Palmer eagerly helped Anthy relocate a yellow rose bush to a
more pleasing spot on the other side of the enclosure.
        Utena stood and watched the slim, slightly awkward young man
uncomplainingly carry heavy bags of soil and respond instantly to
Anthy's slightest suggestion.  Then, smirking slightly, she leaned
over and whispered to Miki,
        "(Does this kid remind you of anybody?)"
        Miki suppressed a chuckle and replied, "(Faintly.)"
        Palmer heard their quiet conversation - not what they were
saying, but that they were there - and looked up, slightly startled.
"Oh!" he said.  "Uh, hello.  Is it after four already?"
        "Almost five," said Miki, consulting his watch.
        "Oh no!  I'm late for a study session."  Tom looked stricken,
torn between opposing feelings of duty, as he looked at Anthy and
said, "Uh... I'm really sorry, Miss Anthy, but - I have to go!  I, uh,
I can come back tomorrow and help you finish it... "
        "Relax, kid, we can take it from here," said Utena with an
easy grin.  "I'm sure she can find something else for you to help with
tomorrow," she added, winking.
        Looking immensely relieved, Tom received his release in the
form of a smiling nod from Anthy, said his hasty goodbyes, and pelted
off down the hill.
        Utena watched him go, then turned a cocked-eyebrow grin to
Anthy.  "'Miss Anthy'?" she said.  "Decided not to break his heart yet
and tell him that you're an old married lady?"
        "Whatever are you talking about, Utena?" asked Anthy.  "I just
haven't felt the need to be pedantic about his choice of title, that's
all.  'Break his heart' indeed... "
        Utena blinked.  "You mean you... "  She stared at Anthy for
several seconds, then threw her head back and laughed.
        "I can't imagine what's so funny," said Anthy, folding her
arms.
        Utena got herself more or less under control after a few
minutes and said, "You really don't... oh, Anthy," she said, and put
her hands on her wife's shoulders, grinning down into her puzzled,
faintly cross face.  "Anthy, that kid's so smitten with you, it's a
wonder you don't hear violins every time he looks at you."
        "'Kid'?" said Miki dubiously.  "Palmer's a freshman; he's the
same age as me."
        Utena gave him a curious glance, then looked thoughtful.
"Huh.  Yeah... I keep forgetting how young you are.  Anyway, there's a
world of difference between Tom's... ah... "  She paused, realizing
that there wasn't really any way to phrase what she had been about to
say delicately.
        "Level of experience?" asked Miki archly, making Utena blush;
but then he nodded and said, "True.  And she's right, Anthy.  It seems
quite plain that Palmer is seriously infatuated with you."
        Anthy gave him a blank look.  "You're joking."
        "Nope," said Utena.  "Plain as the nose on his face."
        Realizing that Utena and Miki were serious, Anthy frowned,
looking pensive and troubled.  "Oh dear," she said.  "I'm afraid I'm
not accustomed to that sort of thing happening... what should I do?"
        "Well, you might not have to do anything," said Utena.  "The
school year will be over soon, and who knows, maybe he'll meet the
real love of his life over the summer."
        "Just be careful," said Miki thoughtfully.  "A young man's
heart is a fragile thing, but resilient at the same time.  It'd be best
to make it clear to him as soon as possible that you're only being
friendly because it's in your nature, not... "  He made a vague
complete-the-thought gesture.
        "Unless you'd rather I did it... " Utena offered, but Anthy
shook her head.
        "No, it's my responsibility," she said.  "I'm the one who
didn't realize...  Next time I see him, I'll take care of it."

        Satori Mandeville Memorial's first Spring Concert was coming
up in just over five weeks, on Saturday the sixth of May, and though
the Student Orchestra had already had a trial by fire in their near-
unheralded, hurriedly assembled, and nonetheless triumphant
performance at the Tenjous' wedding, they were still rehearsing as if
it were their first big show.  Parts of Special Project Number One
were on the program; other segments were original, and there were a
few popular favorites as well.
        Kaitlyn worked them from six to eight-thirty, just like any
other Wednesday, then sent them on their way with a mixture of
encouragement and admonishment.  Smiling and humming the last few bars
of "Scarlet of the Campus", her triumphal fanfare for Utena, Kate
locked up the rehearsal hall and went down the corridor to her office.
She was leafing through her mail - mostly junk from music supply
houses and the like - when there was a soft knock at her open door.
        She glanced up and smiled at the sight of Juri standing there
with a paper sack hanging from one hand.
        "E-e-evening," she said.
        "Good evening," Juri replied, entering the office.  "How did
rehearsal go tonight?"
        "N-not bad.  We're s-s-still a little r-rocky going into the
t-trio on the B-Bach piece, but w-w-we'll g-get it in t-time."
        Juri nodded.  "Good, good."  She placed the bag on Kate's desk
and said, "I brought us a couple of bluapple turnovers and cocoa from
the monastery.  Prylar Otano sends his regards."
        Kate's eyes lit up; the pastries of the Bajoran monastery with
which the Institute shared these hills had fast become famous
throughout the student body and faculty, and the monks, who had taken
up baking to make a little extra money for their abbey by trading with
the citizens of Port Jeradar, were now doing quite a brisk business.
        "You're t-too g-g-good to m-me," said Kate with a smile.  Juri
chuckled and unbagged the goodies, and they munched and sipped in
silence while Kate finished sorting her mail.
        The last thing in the pile caught Kate's attention.  It wasn't
junk mail; it was an official dispatch, green-and-black-striped edging
on the envelope, from the Supreme Headquarters of the Babylon
Foundation.  With an intrigued little noise, Kate tore the end off the
envelope, pulled out the dispatch, and read it over, her eyebrows
climbing slowly higher as she did so.
        "Oh m-m-my," she said, a slow smile spreading across her face.
        "Mm?" Juri asked.  Wordlessly, Kate handed over the dispatch.
Juri read it; her eyebrows did the same thing.  "Oh my indeed," she
said when she was done reading.
        Kate grinned, took a notebook out of her desk drawer, and
started jotting.

        The next day, Belldandy Morisato was grading papers in her
office in Ambrose Hall, the History department's main building, when
she was interrupted by a knock at her door.  She looked up and smiled
to see Anthy Tenjou standing there, a tentative look on her face.
        "Hello, Anthy," said Bell cheerfully.  "Come in, come in.  How
are you finding the transition?"
        "It's going very well," Anthy replied, entering the office and
taking a seat opposite the teacher's desk.  "Everyone has been so
helpful and friendly... it's almost like a dream."
        Bell smiled.  "I'm glad," she said.  "Moving to a new world
can be a very trying experience.  Now, what brings you to my office
today?  Was there something you wanted to ask me?"
        Anthy nodded.  "Yes, Lady Verthandi - a favor."
        Bell's smile turned a little impish.  "Please, Anthy - just
'Bell'."
        Anthy blushed a little, her dark cheeks darkening further, and
smiled in return.  "All right... Bell."
        "Better," said Bell, nodding with satisfaction.  "Now - what
sort of favor do you need?"
        "Well... you know that I'm a witch."
        Bell nodded.  "And one of considerable power, according to
Corwin's report."
        "Power I have," Anthy acknowledged, "and more so now that I've
inherited Zagato's place and become the High Priestess of Cephiro.
Training... is another matter.  Aside from what little Zagato was able
to teach me before... before he died... I've had none."
        Bell's face took on an understanding look.  "You'd like me to
take over where Zagato left off?"
        "If it wouldn't be too much of an imposition," replied Anthy
diffidently.
        "Not at all!" said Bell, beaming.  "It's been some time since
I had a student of sorcery, but if you're willing to put up with me
while I get myself back up to speed, I'd be delighted to teach you.
Let's see, you're not taking regular classes this term, so you'll have
time to study and practice on your own... say two regular lessons
every week.  What evenings work best for you?"
        "Well," said Anthy, slightly hesitant to impose terms on
someone who was doing her a favor but well aware of her own agenda,
"I've been hoping to tie up my Friday evenings... "
        Bell glanced up from her perusal of her desk calendar, smiling
with complete understanding.
        "Fridays, then, and... say, Tuesdays?"
        Anthy nodded.  "That would be perfect."
        "All right then," said Bell, jotting a note in her calendar.
"We can use one of the Castle's smaller practice rooms to start;
they're private and quiet enough.  Let's say five o'clock tomorrow?"
        Anthy got to her feet and bowed.  "Thank you," she said.  "I'm
in your debt."
        "Not at all," Bell repeated, her smile warm.  "I'll see you
then."
        Anthy left Ambrose Hall with a slightly lighter step than she
had entered with.  Phase One complete!

        The walls of the chamber Kozue and Corwin had started calling
the Engine Room were papered with big sheets of glossy white paper,
covered in thick black marker scribbles.  Some of the scribbles were
mathematical computations; some of them were designs for machine
parts.  All of them were in Corwin's hand, bold and scrawly, the
annotations barely legible.
        Corwin was in the middle of the room, stretched out on one of
the couches with one of the big pads of that glossy white paper
propped up on his knees, scribbling furiously to the sound of old rock
music blaring from the portable stereo set standing in one corner of
the room.  Kozue entered the Engine Room after her Friday council
business and stood in the doorway for a few moments, smiling to
herself as she watched him work, oblivious to everything around him
between the work and the music.
        Kozue looked at her watch, nodded to herself, and crossed the
room to the stereo set.  She didn't know the music - it was one of the
recordings Corwin had brought from Midgard with him, a very loud
twentieth-century punk band with a raspy-voiced lead singer who
sounded very angry (which, Kozue was led to believe, went with the
territory in punk bands).

"What's right is wrong what's come has gone
What's clear and pure is not so sure
It came to me:
All promises become a lie
All that's benign corrupts in time
The fallacy - "

        Silence descended like an anvil as Kozue switched off the
music.  It was broken only by the squeaky scratch of the marker's tip
against paper for several more seconds, until Corwin's brain caught up
with itself and he realized the music had stopped.
        "Wha?" he asked, then looked across the room and noticed
Kozue.  "Oh - hi.  5:30 already?"
        She nodded, smiling.  "Strange choice in music," she
observed.  "The message is so not you.  'All promises become a lie'
and all that... "
        Corwin shrugged.  "It's one of Dad's favorite bands.  I mainly
like them for their sound, not their content."
        Kozue nodded.  "Mm-hmm.  Well, that's good to hear.  I'd hate
to think you were getting all bitter.  Anyway, finish up whatever you
were writing there and then put that thing away - no more work until
Sunday."
        Corwin blinked.  "Kozue, I've got a schedule - "
        "High Priestess's orders," said Kozue, grinning.  She reached
between two buttons of her jacket, drew out an envelope, and flicked
it to him.  "I just talked to her up at the Gate.  She gave me this to
give to you."
        Puzzled, Corwin capped his marker, put it aside, tore the end
off the envelope, and removed the note inside.  It was written in a
very clear, regular script, almost like engraving, and it read:

Friday, April 7, 2406

Dear Corwin,

Your Aunt Belldandy has very graciously agreed to give me the mystic
training that, as a witch and your High Priestess, I surely need to
discharge my duties adequately.  My lessons will be on Tuesday and
Friday evenings after classes.  Tuesdays, of course, coincide with one
of the regular Duelists' Society sparring sessions, but my being busy
on Fridays (along with Kaitlyn's regular trip to Babylon 5 to visit
her father) leaves Utena with little to do.

Since relaxation and harmony are important for the continued balance
of the Pillar's being, I humbly request that you take Fridays off and
spend them in the manner to which you've become accustomed over the
last year and a half.  It would mean a great deal to me (and to Utena,
of course!) if you would not let the new dimensions in our lives
interfere with such a long-standing and well-loved tradition.

Also, if you can set aside some time on Saturday, I'd like to see you
again myself; I found our trip to Mitsumaru last week very enjoyable
and would like to show you more of the world you now sustain.  (I saw
quite a bit of it in my year of wandering!)

Please leave word with Utena tonight if this would be acceptable.

Yours fondly,
Anthy

PS: Chu Chu apologizes for being so brusque with you about my old
bed.  Please feel free to use it if you like; I always found it quite
comfortable.

        Corwin read it over twice, then very thoughtfully folded it
up, tucked it back into its envelope, and put it in his uniform
jacket's breast pocket.
        "So?" said Kozue.
        Corwin didn't reply at first; slowly, he closed the cover of
the big pad of paper he'd been scribbling on and put it aside, then
got up, brushed down his pants legs, and looked thoughtful some more.
        Then he grinned and said, "Guess I'm taking tonight off."
        "And tomorrow?"
        "Looks that way.  I'll have to recalculate my schedule on
Sunday and see if I can still finish on time.  I think so, but - "
        "But you're off now," said Kozue, turning him by the shoulders
toward the door, "so worry about it Sunday."
        Corwin chuckled.  "OK, OK," he said.  "I'll be back tonight
sometime."
        "I'll be around," Kozue replied.  "It's not as if I've got a
social life.  Now get moving!" she added, propelling him firmly toward
the door with a hearty slap to the seat of his trousers.
        He turned and looked back over his shoulder at her with a
rather sardonic "Um, yes?" expression, but she just beamed at him
innocently, so, sighing as if heavily put upon, he left the Engine
Room.
        Kozue chuckled to herself and went out the other way.  Maybe
Keiko and Shiori wanted to go bowling or something.

        Corwin slipped between worlds and emerged in Midgard along the
side of the road rounding Lake Jeradar, out of the way of prying eyes,
then hiked up the hill to the Castle.  He found Utena loitering in the
entrance hall, re-reading a note which bore a suspicious resemblance
to the one in Corwin's pocket.
        When he entered, she looked up, saw him, and smiled, a little
sheepishly.
        "Hey," she said.
        "Hey," he replied.  "You got one too, huh?"
        Utena chuckled.  "Yeah.  Letters from the High Priestess.  I
feel like we should fight a duel," she added wryly.
        "I'd rather eat first," Corwin replied, grinning, "but we can
spar later if you like."
        "That'd be fun," she said.  "We haven't done a lot of that -
just our duel at the reception, really.  But you're right, food
first.  Feel like anything in particular?"
        "How about the Marche?  I haven't been to B5 in quite a
while."
        "Sounds good to me."  Corwin's car was parked in his workshop
in New Avalon, in storage mode, but it was a nice night anyway, the
sky all orange and gold with the coming sunset, so they walked to Port
Jeradar.
        Corwin thought about different ways to say what he was
thinking for the first few minutes of the walk.  Utena seemed to sense
that he was engrossed in just such a process, for when they'd just
reached the edge of Lake Jeradar she said,
        "Copper?"
        "Oh, uh... I was just thinking... how nice it was of Anthy to
set this up."
        Utena smiled.  "Yeah.  She's really trying hard not to disrupt
anything."  She took his arm in hers and added, "And she can tell I've
missed you."
        Corwin patted her hand and smiled in return.  "I've missed you
too.  Sorry I've been so busy... I'm just trying to get the Engine
done before summer.  Although - do you know if there's really any
hurry?  Originally I wanted to get back before school got out because
of Dad's offer, but if you're not going to do it... "
        Utena blinked.  Between final exams for C-term, getting into
the swing of things for D-term, Duelist business, helping Anthy get
settled in, and, oh yeah, being -married- and all, she'd clean
forgotten about Corwin's father's offer of a rather unique summer job.
        "Oh.  Hum," she said thoughtfully.  "I haven't mentioned it to
Anthy... I don't know if she'd be up for something like that or not.
I mean, I know she'd go if I said I wanted to, but... she can be kind
of like Dorothy used to be in that regard.  Say things like that and
not really mean it - you know?"
        He nodded.  "Any idea what you'd do instead?"
        She shrugged, then grinned.  "Well, either way, you -did-
promise to show us all the beautiful things."
        "So I did," he said.  "Well, if you don't end up taking one of
the prototypes out, then we can take the Wonder.  And if you do, well,
then that's taken care of for us."
        "Yup.  I'll ask Anthy about it later on.  She might not want
to decide right away - maybe I should see if I can get your dad to
talk to her about it, actually.  He could probably do a better job
explaining what it's all about."
        Corwin nodded.  "Good idea.  I'm sure he'd be glad to do it."
        "OK... you mind if we detour a little when we get to B5 and
look him up so I can ask him about it?"
        "Not at all.  Give me an excuse to say hi myself.  I haven't
seen him since the wedding.  Or Kate, to speak of."
        That thread exhausted, they walked along in a comfortable
quiet for a few minutes as the sky went from orange to purple and
settled into a very pleasant evening.
        Then Utena said, "By the way... "
        "Mm?"
        "You look pretty sharp in the old crimson and black."
        He grinned.  "Thanks."
        "Have you tried the shorts?  They're very comfortable."
        Corwin chuckled.  "No, thank you.  Not everybody's got legs
like yours."
        "You'd look pretty funny with legs like mine."
        "Isn't -that- the truth."

        Utena let herself back into Castle 502 at nearly midnight,
humming happily to herself.  It was a small thing, but nevertheless it
made her feel as if some important balance had been restored to the
world.  She squelched the humming as she entered the room, though,
seeing that only one small light, the green-shaded banker's lamp on
Anthy's desk, was on and the curtains of the bed were closed.
Carefully, she closed the door behind her, took off her shoes, and
made her way across the room.
        The spot Chu Chu had staked out for himself, over at the
corner of the window seat, was empty.  As Utena changed for bed, she
wondered where he'd got off to; but then, he'd adapted surprisingly
well to the new status quo, and might be any number of places in the
Castle.  Serge was the Duelists' undisputed mascot, but they'd adopted
the monkey-mouse pretty fast too.
        Smiling, Utena put out the light and slipped into bed.  As she
did so, Anthy stirred slightly and murmured sleepily,
        "Did you have a good time?"
        "Yes," Utena whispered in reply.  She burrowed down into the
covers, found and kissed Anthy's forehead in the dark, and added,
"Thank you."
        "You're welcome," Anthy mumbled, half-conscious.  "Good night,
love."

        Kaitlyn stood at her window, watching with a faint smile as
the small, dark shape of Corwin made its way down the hill and through
the gates, barely visible in the Bajorlight.  She followed him with
her eyes all the way down to the shore of the lake, where he vanished
in a burst of golden light.
        Then she sighed, closed the curtains, and turned away from the
window.
        "Trouble?" asked Juri quietly.
        "N-n-no," said Kate thoughtfully, "I s-supp-p-pose not.  It's
j-just... "  She sat down on the edge of her bed and put her chin on
her fist.  "... K-k-kind of sad," she mused.
        The redhead sat up and put her hands on Kate's shoulders.
"He's resilient," she said.  "There's an adaptation to be made, and
he'll make it.  He's very like her in that way."
        Kate nodded.  "Mm... I kn-know," she said.  "B-but still,
it's... "
        "Kind of sad," Juri replied.  "Yes."  Then she slipped her
arms around Kaitlyn, holding her from behind, and murmured, "But
sadness can be overcome."  She kissed the side of Kate's neck and
added with a soft smile, "You've taught me that."
        Kate turned her head to try and look over her shoulder; the
gesture didn't get her the line of sight she was looking for, but it
did earn her a kiss, after which she chuckled softly.
        "Y-you're in a p-playful m-m-mood tonight.  I know p-people
who w-w-wouldn't b-believe it p-possible."
        "It's been a long week," Juri replied dryly.
        "Uh-huh," Kate responded.  "S-so I'm a c-c-convenient outlet
f-for your s-s-stress.  I g-g-get it."
        "Of course not," Juri said, trying unsuccessfully to sound
offended.  "Although," she added in a thoughtful tone, "now that I
think about it, I haven't had a headache since Tenjou's wedding."
        "W-well," said Kate wryly, "at l-l-least I'm g-good for
s-s-SOMEthing."
        Juri chuckled throatily, leaned to the side without
relinquishing Kate, and turned off the light.

        Corwin walked down the stairs from the Secret Forest to the
dark and sleeping campus, pondering exactly how it could be that a man
could feel as happy as he did and as sad -at the same time-.  He
wished, as odd as it seemed, that Nall were around, that the dragon
had come to Tenjou Academy instead of going back to Koopman.  He
understood Nall's reasons for doing it - not least of which was the
fact that he was apparently dating Uum'y R'yuu-z'ky, who went to
Fontainebleu Academy in New Avalon, and since he hadn't worked out
how to make the transit from Midgard to Cephiro and back on his own
just yet, he didn't want to impose on her for all the commuting.
        Nall.
        NALL had a girlfriend.
        Where is justice? Corwin wondered rhetorically.
        A moment later, somebody stepped out from behind one of the
large shrubs along the side of the path leading from the Forest stairs
to the Quad.  He wore the uniform of a Tenjou Academy high-school
division student, a jacket and trousers much like Corwin's (if in a
much less flattering color), and from his height he was probably a
junior or senior.  Dark hair, hard to tell in the yellow lamplight if
it was brown or black, and a narrow, intense sort of face - kind of
like Saionji's, except without that element of dry humor that often
underlaid the green-haired Duelist's expressions.
        "Corwin Ravenhair?" he asked, his voice a tightly controlled
whisper, as if he were worried about waking up the campus.
        Corwin stopped walking and blinked at the guy.
        "Uh... yeah," he said.  "Something I can do for you?"
        Upon which the guy punched Corwin on the nose.
        The very surprised young god sprawled on his back, bowled
completely over by the blow, for which he had been in no way prepared.
Reflexes honed by Valkyrie training rolled his weight back onto his
shoulders, kicked his feet forward, and then whipped him back upright
in a maneuver that Valkyrie empty-hand expert Aeryn Stonefist claimed
to have learned from Bruce Lee.
        It was only after he was back on his feet and squared off
against his unexpected attacker that Corwin came to the rather
startling realization that the attack hadn't actually -hurt-.  It had
just knocked him over.  Puzzled, he raised a hand and prodded at his
nose.  Nope, no pain, and no blood either.  It was as if he hadn't
been touched.
        His attacker was staring at him wide-eyed, obviously just as
surprised as Corwin at the failure of his blow to do any harm.  Then
it suddenly occurred to Corwin what had happened, at which point he
felt a bit stupid.
        Oh, of course, he thought.  I'm the Pillar.  Nothing in
Cephiro can hurt me.  But I don't want -this- moron to know that... 
        "You get the first miss for free," he said, hoping that, faced
with what appeared to be clear evidence that he'd missed, the guy
would kick into cognitive dissonance and ignore the equally clear
evidence - his own bruised knuckles - that he hadn't.  "Now I'll give
you five seconds to explain what the hell you did that for."
        His attacker blinked again, then shook his head and seemed to
regain his bad mood.  "You think you're so cool," he growled.  "Come
in here right after the big crisis, dressed up in that black uniform
like you were Prince Tenjou or something, impressing all the ladies
with that bleached streak in your hair.  Who the fuck do you think you
are?"
        Corwin put his hand behind his head and gave the guy an
incredulous look.  "You lurked out here all night hoping I'd go by so
you could poke me in the nose because girls like my hair?!  You must
have a lot of free time, pal.  Get the hell out of my way!  I don't
have time for this crap.  'Impressing all the ladies,' for crissake -
I'm not even seeing anybody."
        The aggressor - who, Corwin noted, hadn't bothered introducing
himself; nobody had any manners around here - snorted.  "You have the
nerve to say that when you're -living- with one?"
        "Hey, she invited herself," Corwin replied, shrugging.  "You
think I got a vote?  You don't know Kozue real well."
        "Better than -you- do, asshole!" snapped the taller young man.
        Corwin put his hands in his pockets and looked bored.  "Make
up your damn mind!" he protested.  "Either I'm screwing her or I'm
not.  You can't have it both ways."
        "Don't talk about her that way!" snarled the senior, his fists
balling again.
        Corwin sighed, shaking his head sadly as he palmed his
forehead.  "You're a real bundle of conflicts, pal.  Major madonna-
whore complex.  You want to see a counselor about that before it gives
you real problems later in life."
        Jesus, he said to himself, I sound like Nall.
        The other boy charged at that point, roaring with anger, but
although tall and rangy, he was untrained and completely without
focus.  Corwin could have avoided him all day.  As it was, he didn't
feel like dancing; he stepped out of the his attacker's path, let him
go by, summoned Stick, and tapped the young man very gently on the
back of the head as he went by.
        His attacker continued on two more steps, then crashed into a
bush and stayed there.
        Corwin let Stick go away, sighed, and put his hands back in
his pockets.  If the guy had any friends, they'd all come after him in
a bunch later.  That could get complicated, cover-wise.
        Kozue was still up, listening to one of his records and
reading one of his books, when he let himself into his room in East
Hall.
        "Where've you been?" she asked as he entered.
        "Ran into one of your ex-boyfriends on my way down from the
Forest," he replied, unbuttoning his jacket.  "Did you date anybody
who -wasn't- an idiot?"
        "No," Kozue replied calmly.  "Who was it?"
        "Damned if I know," Corwin replied.  "Tall guy, probably a
senior.  Kind of shaggy dark hair, sort of nasty-faced."
        "Hmph," said Kozue, closing the book and putting it back in
the shelf.  "Sounds like Rai Katagiri.  Did you kick his ass?"
        "Didn't feel like spending the time," Corwin replied.  He hung
up his jacket and got his pajamas out of his bureau.  "I just gave him
a little tap and left him in a bush."
        Kozue giggled.  "Serves him right.  He's -such- a jerk.  Lousy
in the sack, too."
        "I really don't need that kind of detail," Corwin said on his
way back out.  He went to the bathroom, doused his face, put on his
pajamas, and went back to his room.
        "So how'd your date go?" Kozue wanted to know when he'd
returned.
        "Great," Corwin replied, not even bothering to protest that it
hadn't been a date.  (A date with a married woman?  How ridiculous was
-that-?)  "It went great."
        "Mm-hmm."  Kozue turned around and sat down backward on the
desk chair she'd been using as Corwin stretched out on the bottom
bunk, hands behind his head.  "You don't -look- like a guy who just
had a great date," she observed.
        After his encounter with Rai Katagiri, if that's who that had
been, Corwin was feeling a little disinclined to be needled by Kozue
just now; so he sat up, gave her an angry look, and snapped,
        "Well, maybe that has something to do with the fact that I'm
back -here- afterward, by -myself-!"
        Then he flopped back down and glared at the bottom of the
upper bunk.
        Kozue accepted the rebuke with a quiet nod, the playful look
going out of her face.  "Maybe," she said seriously.  "Yeah.  Look,
I'm... I'm sorry.  I pushed it too far."
        "No, dammit, I'm sorry," Corwin replied, hitching himself up
on his elbows again.  "I'm just... I dunno -how- the hell I feel
anymore," he said.  "I'm happy - I really, truly am.  Friday nights
are back to the way they used to be, the way they feel like they
belong.  It's like a piece of the world is back on its right orbit
again.  And yet... "  He shook his head.  "I dunno," he repeated.
"If... if this is the way things are supposed to be... if I did
everything right and helped put the world back in its proper
shape... "
        He sighed, let himself fall onto his back again, and asked the
bottom of Utena's old mattress, "Then why do I feel so fucking -bad-?"
        Kozue got up from her chair, sat down on the edge of the bunk
next to him, and took hold of one of his hands - a gesture which felt
curiously companionable, not like an advance but rather a gesture of
something like solidarity.
        "Because you're in love," she said softly, "and being in
love sucks."
        Corwin sighed again and squeezed her hand gently.  "So it
would appear," he mused glumly.
        They sat there like that for a few minutes; then Kozue broke
the silence, saying quietly, "Listen, if... if there's anything you
need... I... look, I'm not saying I'm in love with you or anything,
'cause I'm not, but... I joke around and stuff, and sometimes I go too
far, but if... "  She made an annoyed little noise and shook her head.
"OK, that was lame.  Let me start over."
        "Uh... OK," said Corwin, confused.
        She took a deep breath, held it for a second, and then said,
"What I'm trying to say, Corwin, is that I don't want to be 'your
girl', but if you need me to be... that kind of a friend... then for
you, that's something I'm willing to do."
        Corwin blinked, blinked again, and then understood and went
slowly red.
        "Er," he said.  "Well, uh... thanks.  But I... um... well,
look, it's not that I don't like you or anything, but I... don't think
I could really... operate that way.  You know?"
        She smiled, a little sadly he thought, and nodded, chuckling
faintly.  "Just -exactly- what you appear to be," she murmured; then
she met his eyes and said, "OK.  I understand.  If you change your
mind sometime, just holler.  I'm not very far away," she added with a
wry grin.  "As a matter of fact," she went on, giving him a mock-stern
look, "you're in my bed."
        "Sorry," said Corwin, making as if to get up.  "You were
talking to me, I didn't want to climb up and disappear before you were
done... "
        She laughed, pushing him back down by the shoulder.  "Relax,
Corwin, I'm only teasing," she said.  "Stay right where you are."
Then she leaned forward and gave him a soft, unaggressive little
kiss.  "Good night, Sir Corwin."
        "Uh... g'night, Kozue," he replied, still a little flustered.
She got up, turned out the lights, and then climbed up into the top
bunk.  He heard her moving around a little as she settled in, and then
a deep and welcome quiet settled over the room.  Miki had said once
that his sister snored, but Corwin hadn't noticed that being the case
since she'd moved in.  He wondered if somehow she'd only done it to
annoy her brother.
        He wondered if it was stupid of him to turn down such an
open-hearted, generous offer.  He knew his father had a couple of
friends like that (like, uh, his mother?), and they all seemed to have
a good time and no harm done... but... somehow it just didn't seem
right to him.  No, that wasn't quite right.  He didn't judge the
policy in and of itself, or grudge his father that good fortune.  Say
rather that somehow it didn't seem right -for- him.
        Strange attitude for somebody his age to have, he knew, and he
remarked on that wryly to himself in the dark.  He could hear Buttercup 
Utonium as if she were right there, standing by his bunk - "What are
you, stupid?" - and the thought made him smile even as he was also
scowling thoughtfully at himself.
        What the hell are you saving yourself for, Ravenhair? he asked
himself.  It'd better not be anything -stupid-.  Optimism is fine, but
there are -limits-.
        He sighed.
        Freaking -Nall- has a girlfriend!
        Go to -sleep- already, Ravenhair.  You know you only get
tangled up in this junk at this time of night...
        Hmm... she's right up there, not four feet away... 
        ... go to SLEEP, damn you.
        He went to sleep.

        Sergei the tiger yawned, baring gleaming fangs in an
expression that, out of context, would have looked just as much like a
ferocious, roaring snarl.
        Chu Chu, not all that impressed, tossed in a marshmallow.
        "Grmph," said Serge, chewing.
        "Chu," replied Chu Chu.
        "Wurf?" Ein wondered.
        "Yeah," mused Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV.  She peeled
her own marshmallow from her fondue fork and ate it gleefully, licking
the sticky melted bits from her fingertips.  The four of them were
sprawled out in front of the fireplace in the Castle library.  Serge
was curled into a sort of crescent before the fire; Edward lay with
her head against the tiger's belly inside that crescent, feet toward
the fireplace, Ein snuggled up beside her, while Chu Chu manned the
marshmallow bag near the tiger's head.
        "Edward wonders," Edward wondered, "if everybody else is
having as much fun as we are... "  The redheaded hacker accepted
another marshmallow graciously from the monkey-mouse, speared it, and
began to toast it, then added with a sagacious nod, "... but Edward
doubts it."
        "Hmmmmmm," said Serge as Chu Chu climbed up onto his head and
started scratching behind his ears again.
        "EX-actly!" said Edward, raising her fondue fork as if it were
a toast.  "You're right, Ein - he's pretty smart for a cat."

        April seemed to melt away, as if, after the frozen stagnation
of the end of C-term, D-term was in a hurry to be over with.  At DSM,
this was partially an illusion; the extra week incurred by the delay
of C-term's final examinations meant that the school year wouldn't
actually end until the nineteenth of May, so the disappearance of
April like smoke in a breeze still left them with two weeks of classes
and the year's-end finals to get through.
        Still, after the unnaturally prolonged winter, the spring in
the Jeradar region was a beautiful one, breezy and warm.  Looking back
later on their junior D-term, the Duelists of the Castle would realize
that it couldn't have gone by all that fast - they did too many things
in it for it to have been any shorter than its allotted span.
        Kaitlyn sometimes seemed to be everywhere at once, between
rehearsing her orchestra for the Spring Concert, honing the Art of
Noise for a mysterious gig she had lined up for the end of the school
year, and continuing the training of her journeyman student.  Miki
Kaoru helped as much as he could with the first two; for the third she
was pretty much on her own, except for the occasional hand with
sparring and such from Wakaba Shinohara.
        The rest of the Duelists weren't idle either.  When Miki
wasn't assisting Kate with her musical affairs, he was helping Juri
prepare the fencing team for the Galactic Championship Tournament, to
be held at New Avalon's Fontainebleu Academy in early May.  When Juri
wasn't busy with that, she was trying to make certain Kaitlyn got
enough sleep and remembered to eat and, time permitting, had a little
fun now and then.
        Anthy worked on her roses and her sorcery training.  During
her second lesson with Belldandy, Mia Ausa had happened to pass by the
workout room they were using.  A self-taught multidisciplinary
sorceress herself, Mia was intrigued by the techniques Bell was using
to help the Cephirean witch refine her talents.  She was promptly
invited to join in, prompting Mia's roommate B'Elanna Torres, the
proud possessor of no mystic talent whatsoever, to wisecrack that they
only needed one more to be a bona fide coven - at which point Castle
House Guide (and Bell's elder sister) Urd Snowmane joined in and
started offering tips on the finer points of alchemy.
        An unusual side effect of Mia's involvement was a curious
cross-pollination of skills.  The half-Minbari girl picked up elements
of Cephirean elemental magic, adding them to her sorcerous bag of
tricks, and in return, she had the unique experience of teaching the
goddesses a few things about ancient Santovasku Yoma techniques.  To
Anthy she ended up showing something entirely different, and not
related to the mystic knowledge she'd gleaned from the Great Library
of Yedor.
        Anthy had recently arrived at the belief that, now that she
was the High Priestess of Cephiro, the heir to the Black Sword, she
was obligated to see to it that she at least had a vague chance in
battle.  She'd also taken to heart something Bell had told her about
her own early relationship with her husband, Keiichi Morisato.  As
Bell had chosen to learn to love motorsports, so Anthy decided to
learn to love the Duelist's way - to cease to be a prize to be fought
for and become a fighter herself.
        With a sword, she was uncomfortable, awkward - there was
something about the way of the blade that simply didn't fit her
nature.  After a week or so of experimenting with the rest of the
Duelists, Anthy had been considering giving up - when she'd remembered
Corwin, fighting against Akio on the Pillar Circle Platform.  The
young god also preferred a weapon other than the sword, a simple,
elegant weapon that was both more versatile and less martial than the
blades favored by most Duelists.  Mia Ausa, unique among the Duelists
of Satori Mandeville Memorial, used a very similar weapon, and for her
part of Bell's "sorcery circle", she agreed to teach its use to Anthy.
        Utena had been surprised, and at first a little unnerved, by
the notion of Anthy studying the use of a weapon.  Sure, she'd been
the Rose Bride for a long time, witnessed countless swordfights - she
wasn't squeamish about combat - and she was one of the bravest people
Utena knew, but her courage was a quiet sort.  Somehow the Rose Knight
just couldn't picture her bride in an actual, physical fight.  Anthy
herself claimed that she had never been any good at sports, despite
being in reasonably good shape, and the one time she'd held a sword,
she hadn't exactly had the most challenging of opposition.
        Having seen her at work with the Minbari fighting staff,
though, Utena had to admit that she might have an idea there.  By
early May, Anthy had only been working with the weapon for four weeks,
two afternoons a week and long sessions on Saturday and Sunday, one
with Corwin, one with Mia, and she was already showing considerable
promise.  It was weird to think of, but if it pleased Anthy - and it
did, that was plain to see in the smile on her face when she came away
from each session - then, Utena decided, who was she to blow against
the wind?
        Over in Cephiro, Corwin toiled at his World-Engine.  The
design and the program were ready by mid-April, at which point he and
Kozue were joined in the Engine Room by Master Smith Presea.  The
Rune Knight of Iron summoned the materials; the Master Smith forged
them into the World-Engine's components; and then Corwin and his
faithful assistant put them in place while the Master Mage brought the
winded Smith tea and cookies.  It was a clean, efficient system, and
Corwin had every hope of being able to bring the Engine online in the
first week of May, even with his Friday nights and Saturdays taken up
by togetherness activities with his fellows of the Trinity.
        On the last Saturday in April, as he and Anthy worked with the
staves in a grassy clearing in the Secret Forest, well away from
prying eyes, it dawned on Corwin how much fun he'd been having this
month.  It hadn't started out all that promising, but by Grand-dad, it
had turned out to be a hell of a good time.  The project was
stimulating, the diversions... diverting, and the friendships he'd
developed here in his new world were relatively few, thanks to his
involvement in the project, but they were rewarding.
        Kozue, for example, was a weirdo, and trouble followed her -
he'd had to dodge three separate would-be pummelings from her exes
over the last month - but she was proving to be a very good friend.
She was the kind of girl he could joke around with and feel
comfortable with - like Buttercup, or Hikaru Shidou, both of whom had
visited him in the narrow window of Sunday mornings, his only free
time.  More, she seemed to understand the position Corwin found
himself in, understand it and empathize with it, which made her very
easy to have around during those moments when he was most prone to
getting gloomy about it.
        The rest of the Student Council he didn't know as well, but he
liked them; they were helpful and supportive, and fun to spend what
little extra time he could glean from his schedule with - even if
Shiori Takatsuki -was- the absolute rottenest bowler Corwin had ever
encountered.  And the Master Smith, well... she might as well be a
Valkyrie, with all that -that- implied for Corwin.  All she needed was
an appropriate last name; Corwin personally favored "Hammerforge",
even if Presea didn't actually -use- a hammer to do her smithing.
        When they finished their sparring session, he and Anthy went
back to East Hall and cleaned up before getting into Wakaba's car and
heading down the Coast Road to Mitsumaru.  They listened to the radio
and talked about the upcoming summer on the way down.
        Corwin reflected as he drove, talked, listened and laughed
that Anthy had the best sense of humor he'd ever seen in a person who
had suffered so much.  She was tremendously funny, but in a quick,
subtle sort of way that a lot of people might miss, and what was more,
her humor had a quiet sort of wry perversity that he found very
appealing.  Utena had been right - he did like her, very much so.  And
she seemed to like him too, which was gratifying.  He'd come to look
forward to Saturdays almost as much as Fridays.
        When they arrived at Maison Cheng in Mitsumaru and were
seated, Anthy got an oh-I've-just-remembered look, reached into her
pocket, and took out an envelope.
        "Kaitlyn gave me this to give to you this morning; apparently
it came in the mail addressed to you."
        "To me?  Huh," said Corwin, puzzled.  He took the envelope,
opened it, and unfolded the letter within.
        Then he groaned softly, but he was smiling.  Anthy cocked her
head inquisitively.
        "Letter from a friend of mine back in New Avalon," he said.
"He takes the whole 'god' thing a little too seriously - I think just
to get my goat.  Starts off his letter with 'Greetings, Your Grace!'"
        "Ah," said Anthy with an understanding smile.
        "Well, I can read the rest of it later," he said, starting to
put it away.
        "No, go ahead, I don't mind," Anthy insisted.
        Corwin thought to himself that her quiet way of insisting was
pretty much irresistible; she reminded him pleasantly of Aunt Bell in
that regard.  (But  then, it wasn't as if people could remind him
UNpleasantly of Aunt Bell.)
        "OK," he said, and read.

Greetings, Your Grace!

I had to pull a few strings to get this to you, since I doubt that the
Postal Service could really deliver to where you're at.  Then again, if you
know my Dad, this should come as no surprise.  I'm pretty sure that they
don't have datacrystal readers over in Cephiro, so I decided on an
old-style letter.

Anyway, there've been a few changes back at old Koopman High since you
left.  First of all, I seem to have been elected to fill your shoes as
Class Treasurer.  Don't worry, I'm not cooking the books...too much.  It's
a bit daunting, seeing as how I'm younger than just about everybody in the
class.  Then again, you're taking the fate of an entire world on your
shoulders, so I'm not too worried.

        Corwin skimmed through a few paragraphs of random things-are-
fine-here chitchat, noting with special amusement the gosh-I-can't-
imagine-how-that-happened tone of the description of a couple of
pranks that had been recently pulled on people at Koopman High who
took themselves too seriously - Clarissa's old cronies, mostly.  The
highlights from Nall, Fuu and Buttercup carrying on in science labs
without him were also pretty good.

Oh, I've enclosed a few pictures of your ceremony, as well as the wedding
of that young lady you were most emphatically not dating.

        Ah, tact, thy name is Mui, thought Corwin.

One of my personal highlights was a chance to talk to your
grandfather.  It seems that he prefers wallet-sized pictures.  I found
that odd, since I never expected him to have a wallet.  Then again,
who am I to question the All-Father?

Your friend and first worshipper,

Charles Philip 'Chip' Mui

        Corwin took out the pictures and flipped through them.  They
were quite good - Chip was what Corwin's father sometimes called,
inexplicably, a "dab hand" with a camera, Class Shutterbug in every
yearbook since their schools had started having them.  He found
himself especially liking the one shot from the sidelines of him
dancing with Anthy at the wedding reception; he showed it to her, and
she commented on it as well.  It was nicely composed, for having been
an off-the-cuff snapshot; almost like a portrait.
        That got them reminiscing about that day of ceremony; they
talked about it, and Anthy's transition afterward, through dinner,
concluding that as much as things had changed, they both found them to
be quite agreeable changes.
        As they were leaving the restaurant, Corwin said, "Want to
drive back?"
        Anthy looked slightly taken aback.  "I'm... I don't know how,"
she said, but Corwin made a dismissive gesture.
        "It's easy.  I'll show you.  The Coast Road's deserted at this
hour, so we'll have it all to ourselves."
        Anthy considered this for a moment, then said, "All right."
        Corwin got them out of town, out onto the Coast Road, which
was just as deserted as he'd expected; then he pulled off onto the
shoulder, switched sides with the Priestess, and showed her how to
adjust the seat and mirrors to her liking.
        "The trick with this car," he said, "is to just take it easy.
She's a powerful car, but her manners have improved since I redid the
brakes and made some other adjustments.  I think you should be able to
handle her as long as you take it easy."
        Anthy nodded, trying not to look nervous.  She was - enough so
that it surprised her, in fact.  After all, it was only a car.  She'd
already conquered whatever demons the particular machine might hold
for her in allowing herself to be its passenger again; taking the
controls should have been an -improvement-.  This was a less
spiritual, more visceral sort of worry; it seemed like an awfully
powerful car to start out with.  Still, Corwin said it would be all
right...
        ... and she trusted him.
        This much? she asked herself, and the answer came back in an
instant: Yes, this much, and more besides.
        Smiling, Anthy relaxed, looked at the road ahead, and nodded
again, more confidently this time.
        "OK," said Corwin with a grin.  "Let's go!"

        In Midgard spring flourished and the Duelists began mentally
preparing themselves for the end of the school year.  For Beld Marmo,
that meant graduation and the great leap into the unknown territory of
college.  He had a languages scholarship to the University of Salusia
and intended someday to work as a translator for the Federation
Assembly - or the Babylon Project.  Janice Barlow and Chenann were
looking down the barrel of graduation too; Chen was bound for the
Nekomi Institute of Technology on Tomodachi to study structural
engineering, while Janice was off to New Avalon University to pursue a
degree in xenopsychology on a scholarship from the IPO.
        For the others, it was more a matter of consolidating things
for next year, starting the preliminary consideration of career
paths and colleges in the seniors' cases, and getting ready for
summer.  And what a summer it promised to be for most of them!  As
Finals approached, the Duelists and some of their nearest friends
considered the proposition made to them by Utena in April, and one by
one they gave her their answers, all of which were variations on, Hell
yes, I'm in!
        As the school year headed for its close, Juri Arisugawa seemed
almost as busy as Kate had been the previous month; she attributed it
to the heavy workload of the number theory and crypto course she'd
taken, but some of her peers thought that explanation was rather
suspect.  As her roommate, R. Dorothy Wayneright might have known the
truth, but if so, she had been sworn to silence.  Even Kaitlyn didn't
know what her lover was up to, and instinctively she knew not to ask;
she just waited for the payoff like everybody else.  She was too busy
preparing for the Spring Concert to give it much thought anyway.

        "Let me ask you something, Tenjou," said G'Kron thoughtfully
from behind the wire cage of his catcher's mask.
        "Shoot," said Utena; then she wound up and fired, driving the
baseball into the Narn's heavy mitt with a satisfying SMACK.
        "What made you change your mind?" asked G'Kron as he tossed
the ball back to her.
        "About playing competitively?" Utena inquired, toeing the
rubber.
        "Mm," said G'Kron.  "You were so adamant about it last year."
        "Well, I generally -don't- like to play for anything but fun,"
Utena replied, then paused to burn another one across the inside
corner.  "But... "  She grinned.  "Would you believe I'm showing off
to impress a girl?"
        G'Kron pushed his mask back so she could see him grinning in
reply, tossed her back the ball, and nodded his mask down again, like
a welder.  "If you mean a specific girl," the Narn replied, "I just
might.  At any rate, we have much to thank you for.  You've been our
secret weapon this season.  Even if we don't make the divisional
playoffs, the look on the MegaTokyo Regional manager's face when you
sat down the heart of his order will live in my memory forever."
        Utena laughed and tossed him an easy one.  "Yeah, I wasn't
much of a secret anymore after that, was I?"
        "So much the better," G'Kron replied.  "Now they -fear- you,"
he added with a tone of wicked satisfaction.
        Utena didn't add that another reason she'd finally allowed
herself to succumb to G'Kron's periodically-renewed entreaties to join
the DSM interscholastic baseball team was that Anthy had asked if she
might possibly find something else to do with herself on Saturday
afternoons, which was when the team held its regular practice, and it
had seemed as good a diversion as any.
        "OK, that's enough for today," she said, glancing at her
watch after catching the Narn's return toss again.  "Thanks for
catching me - I know it's not your usual job, but I couldn't find
Jeff anywhere."
        "Mr. Bagley is, I believe, currently wooing one of the Bajoran
shrine maidens who assist Prylar Otano's holy brothers with their
ceremonies," said G'Kron dryly.  "A futile endeavor, but hope springs
eternal in the adolescent humanoid."
        Utena laughed again, tossed her glove and ball into her gym
bag, then blinked as the bag made a disgruntled noise and an annoyed
Chu Chu wrestled his way out from under the mitt to glare at her.
        "Don't give me that look," she said, shouldering the bag.
"It's not my fault you like to sleep where you shouldn't."
        "Chu chu chuchu chu," grumbled the monkey-mouse, folding his
little arms in an unmistakable "I'm surrounded by idiots" sort of way.
        "Remarkable little creature," G'Kron observed.
        "He has his moments," said Utena with a smile.  "Thanks again,
G'Kron.  See you at practice tomorrow."
        "Good evening to you, Miss Tenjou," said G'Kron with a formal
Narn fists-on-chest bow, which looked a little odd coming from a Narn
in catcher's gear.
        Utena trotted across campus from the baseball diamond to the
Castle, humming Gliere's Dance of the Soviet Sailors and smiling.
"Miss Tenjou" wasn't really appropriate for her (and certainly not for
Anthy!), but they'd both agreed not to correct people when they said
it.  Anything else made them feel old.
        She was running a trifle late, and was delayed still further
by meeting up with Tom Palmer as the young man descended Castle Hill,
obviously on his way back to Hamlin Hall after another afternoon's
work in the rose garden.  He'd taken the news that Anthy was married
quite admirably, Utena thought; his affection for her didn't seem to
have been dampened by it, but on the other hand, he was always just as
friendly and polite to Utena as always, so if he was hauling around a
load of resentment, he was covering it -awfully- well.  Now he greeted
her cheerfully and filled her in at some length as to what he and
Anthy had been up to in the greenhouse this afternoon.
        The kid was so nice and earnest about everything that Utena
felt obliged to hear him out, even though she was in kind of a hurry.
When he finally let her get on with her day, she dashed into the
Castle, up to the North Tower, and into her room, tossing her bag on
her desk (which elicited another brief storm of annoyance from Chu
Chu) as she entered and went straight to her wardrobe.
        "Running a bit late today?" Anthy asked with calm amusement
from her desk, where she was putting together her notes for this
evening's sorcery lesson with Bell and Mia.
        Utena didn't answer, probably didn't hear her; she was too
busy rummaging around in her closet.  Anthy got up and crossed the
room to stand nearby, close but out of obstruction range, smiling with
gentle amusement at her husband's fretful hurry.  It was a little
silly - after all, Corwin wouldn't care overmuch if Utena greeted him
in her sweat-stained baseball warmups, a freshly pressed jacket, her
Space Force dress uniform or a burlap sack - but it was a sign that
she was taking things seriously, and that was good to see.
        "Slag it!" Utena growled, still rummaging.  "I'm gonna be
-late-!  Himemiya, have you seen my - "
        Anthy couldn't help it; she giggled slightly, causing Utena to
pause, back out of the wardrobe, and give her a curious look.
        "What?" asked Utena, puzzled.  "What're you -smirking- at me
like that for... I did it again, didn't I."
        "You did," Anthy allowed, "but I really don't mind.  After
all, you called me that for a long time.  It's almost taken on the
effect of a pet name."
        Utena shook her head with mock resignation and delved back
into her closet.  "God, you're weird, Himemiya," she said.  "Where the
heck is my dress uniform?!"
        Anthy blinked.  She -was- going to wear her Space Force dress
uniform?
        "It's in my closet," she said, "with the things I don't wear
much, where it won't get wrinkled.  Why are you wearing it tonight?"
        Utena backed out of her wardrobe again, turned to Anthy, and
grinned.  "We're doing something a little different tonight.  Corwin's
gonna run me over to the IPO Yards in Zeta C and show me my ship.
She's almost ready for drive trials.  Gryphon's gonna take her out
next week and run her in for me."
        Anthy raised an eyebrow.  "Really!  Well, that sounds very
exciting."  She went to her closet, retrieved Utena's IPO-SF dress
uniform, and handed it over.  "Don't rush.  I'll take care of Corwin
if you're a little late; Aunt Bell won't mind if I'm a little late in
turn."
        Utena grinned and kissed her as she took the uniform from her
hands.  "You're a wonder of the world, Anthy," she said.
        "I try," Anthy replied modestly.

        The tour of the IPO Space Force's primary starship
construction facility, the shipyard complex which was, before the
Exile, the original site of the Utopia Planitia Naval Shipyards, was
very interesting.  Utena found the sight of the nearly-completed ship
that would be hers for the summer - even as she now was, suspended in
dock without markings or power of her own while a horde of spacesuited
techs welded and adjusted and worked to make her ready - inspiring.
She could hardly believe the shape her life had taken since that
fateful day when her half-invested, only-instinctively-understood
power had flung her across the worlds and deposited her at the foot of
Bancroft Tower in Worcester.
        She and Corwin had dinner at the Cobalt Club in New Avalon,
right around the corner from the Hotel Monolith; they toasted her new
ship, Corwin's nearly-complete Engine, the Mandeville Griffins'
success on the field of play that Sunday afternoon, and Anthy's
adaptation, then walked around the downtown area enjoying the sights
for a little while before folding back to Bajor in Daggerdisc.  Corwin
returned his father's ship to its berth aboard Challenger; they met
briefly with the IPO chief, then beamed back to the Institute before
Corwin took his leave of Utena and shifted back to Cephiro.

        Tom Palmer happened to be crossing the campus on an errand of
little importance at about the time the two said their goodbyes at the
Castle's front door; he glanced up the hill at the gleaming red-gold
bulk of the building, nicely fill-lit by small lights emplaced in the
landscaping around it, to see them exchanging their usual hug and kiss
goodnight.
        Miss Tenjou is lucky, he remarked to himself as he made his
way to Hamlin Hall.  She has so many close friends.  It'd be nice to
have friends like that... but aside from Anthy, right now I've only
got - 
        "Oh, Tommy," said a familiar voice in a sing-song tone as he
passed a partly-open door.
        He almost kept going - almost tossed back over his shoulder,
"I'm tired, goodnight" and kept walking - but he couldn't quite bring
himself to do it; so instead he steeled himself, retraced his steps,
and looked into the doorway.
        "Yes?" he said.
        Clarissa Broadbank stood up from her desk and said, "Come in a
minute, Tommy, will you?"
        A thing he hadn't dared to say to her all year escaped from
between his teeth before he could stop it:
        "I wish you wouldn't call me Tommy, Clarissa."
        Clarissa blinked.  "Well, all right then," she said.  "What
-should- I call you?"
        "Tom," replied Palmer, gritting his mental teeth for the
onslaught to follow - Clarissa strongly disliked being told what to
do, even if it was phrased as a suggestion.
        She didn't explode, though; she just sat down on the edge of
her bed and said, "OK, then, fine.  Would you come in here for a
minute, Tom?"
        Tom didn't quite know how to take that.  Wondering if there
were another shoe lurking someplace, he entered a little nervously.
"Have a seat," Clarissa went on, and he sat uncomfortably on the edge
of the desk chair.
        "Is... is there something you need?" he asked.
        "Well, I haven't seen you around much lately," said Clarissa
easily.  "Thought I'd check in, see what you've been up to.  I hear
you've been spending a lot of time up at the Castle and that rose
garden they've put up next to it."
        Tom nodded, swallowing.  "That's right.  I've, uh, I've been
helping M - er, Anthy, with her flowers."
        "Oh ho!" said Clarissa, grinning.  "So she's 'Anthy' to you
now?  Well done, Tom."  She leaned forward, elbows on knees, chin on
fists, and gave him a sly grin.  "So report, already!  What've you got
for me?"
        Tom Palmer suddenly realized how annoying her tacit assumption
was that he was doing everything he did for her.  Trying to keep that
annoyance off his face and out of his voice - she still did make him
nervous, after all - he replied,
        "Well... there isn't much to tell you that you don't already
know.  She's Anthy Tenjou.  She comes from the same place as Utena
Tenjou, Miki Kaoru and those others, went to the same school they all
used to go to."
        "How is she related to Utena?  Adopted?  Cousin of some kind?"
        Tom blinked.  "Uh, no.  They're, uh, married."
        Clarissa goggled at him.  "Whaaaaat?!"
        "I said they're married."  Tom drew himself up a little
defensively.  "It's not that unusual.  Sixteen percent of human and
close-humanoid marriages in the Federation today are of two women."
        Clarissa raised an eyebrow.  "How do you know that?" she
demanded.
        Tom felt his face go red and admitted, "I, uh, I looked it
up.  When she told me.  You know."
        The blonde nodded thoughtfully.  "Well, well, well.  I never
would have guessed it.  She's an awful tomboy, of course, and they're
all weirdos over there, but the way she used to go around with
Kaitlyn's half-brother... I guess she must swing both ways."
        "To hear Miss Anthy tell it," said Palmer, his face burning,
"neither one of them is usually... uh... like that... it's just... you
know, -them-.  In particular."
        "Don't be an idiot, Tommy."  He glanced sharply at her,
actually rousing her to raise a hand and say, "Sorry - Tom.  But
still, don't be stupid - that sort of thing's not possible."
        Palmer wasn't so sure of that, but he held his peace.
Clarissa was rubbing her hands together and smiling darkly.  "Well,
well.  -Married-, are they?  We'll see about -that-."
        "What do you think -you- can do about it?" asked Tom, annoyed,
and then instantly regretted asking.
        "Well, smart guy," she snapped, "this school is -here- on the
sufferance of a Bajoran -monastic order-.  Pretty conservative people,
the Bajorans.  If word got back to Prylar Otano, or even Vedek Bareil,
that the people living in their ancient relic of a Castle are not only
carrying on like heathens, but mocking the sacraments as well... "
She shrugged with affected ignorance.  "Who knows what might happen?"
        "You'd try to get the -school- closed?!" Tom burst out.
        "It almost worked for my sister," Clarissa replied, shrugging
again.  "But that's for emergencies.  In the meantime... what's the
story with that weird pet the new girl has?"
        "Pet?  Oh, you mean Chu Chu?  He's not a pet; Miss Anthy calls
him her friend."
        Clarissa rolled her eyes.  "'Miss' Anthy?  Not very accurate,
if what you've told me so far is right."
        Tom shrugged.  "That's what she likes to be called.  Actually,
she wants me to just call her Anthy, but... I dunno, I don't feel
quite right being so familiar.  'Miss Anthy' is kind of a compromise."
        "Uh-huh," said Clarissa, waving dismissively.  Palmer's little
gentleman complex got kind of cumbersome sometimes.  "Whatever.  What
about the little... thing?"
        "What about him?"
        "Does it like you?"
        Tom nodded.  "He seems to.  He used to get nervous when I came
around - Miss Anthy says he doesn't like strangers - but I think he's
used to me.  I bring him treats.  Sometimes he'll ride around in my
pocket - Miss Anthy thinks that's cute."
        The blonde grinned.  "-Perfect-," she said.  "Bring it to me."
        Tom Palmer blinked.  "Uh... what?"
        "The monkey rat thing.  It trusts you, you said.  Gets in your
pocket and such?  Bring it to me."
        "Why?" Palmer demanded.
        "Because I -want- it," Clarissa replied impatiently.  "I can
use it to teach those freaks in the Castle a lesson."
        Palmer jumped to his feet, making the desk chair skitter away
from him on its rollers and bang into Clarissa's desk.
        "No!" he declared.  "Absolutely not!"
        Clarissa narrowed her eyes.  "Tommy," she said in a harsh,
commanding tone of voice.  "Remember - when you got here you were
nothing.  Just a kid nobody would talk to, here on a scholarship from
some backwater farm planet.  I took you in.  I gave you a place to
belong.  Didn't I?  Wasn't I your very first friend?  Don't I help you
out?  And all I ask in return is that you do a couple of little things
for me.  Get me the monkey."
        Tom clenched his fists.  "No!" he repeated, his voice firmer
now, not as squeaky.  Anger gave him courage as he leveled a finger at
her and declared, "You weren't my friend - you just pushed me around!
You were just -using- me.  Since I've started spending time with Miss
Anthy I've -seen- what -real- friendship is like, watching her and her
friends!  Friends don't order each other around or make each other
steal!  They support each other, -give- to each other.  All you ever
do is -take-!  Well, no more!  Not from me!"
        Before the stunned Clarissa could react, Palmer whirled and
stormed out of her room, shutting the door firmly behind him.  Then he
marched to his own room, locked himself in, and hyperventilated.

        Clarissa sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the back of
her closed door, and just tried to parse what had happened for a
moment; then she went into a slow burn.  She got up and paced the room
like a caged lioness, working herself into a deeper and deeper rage.
-Damn- those Duelist weirdos!  Oh, it was her own fault, really - she
shouldn't have sent poor impressionable Palmer over there, she should
have known that he'd be easy prey for their manipulations.  She
wondered if they'd turned the Dantrovian loose on him, decided he
wouldn't have survived.  The new girl must just have sweet-talked him
over.  Her pride was singed - having one of her agents turned was
serious business.
        Wait.
        Her train of thought braked to a sudden halt, then backed up a
little bit.
        Singed.
        A slow smile spread across her face; she went to the
telephone, picked it up, and dialed.
        "Hello, Marcus.  It's Clarissa.  Listen, I need a favor.  Yes,
I -know- what time it is - just shut up and listen.  Or don't you want
to get rid of Tenjou and her new little pal?  I -thought- that might
get your attention.  Now listen carefully... "

        "Evening, Corwin."
        "Kozue."
        "How was your date?"
        "Terrific."
        "Good.  I'm glad.  You'll be seeing the Priestess tomorrow as
usual?"
        "Uh-huh.  Hold my calls," said the young god with a wry grin.
He put his boots neatly next to the door, collected his pajamas, and
went to brush and change.
        When he returned, he had a thoughtful look on his face.
        "Uh-oh," said Kozue, grinning.  "I know -that- look.  That's
the I've-just-had-an-idea look."
        Corwin smiled.  "Not really an idea... just a notion," he said
as he put his clothes in the hamper, pausing only to remove an
envelope from his pants and tuck it into his pajama top pocket.
        "Oh?  What kind of a notion?"
        "Well... once I'm done with the Engine and get my life back,
maybe... maybe I ought to see about... going on a -real- date,
sometime."
        "Ahh," said Kozue, nodding knowingly.  "Getting done with that
rebound phase, huh?  Ready to move forward?"
        Corwin gave her a you-just-came-that-close-to-the-line look
and grumbled, "Yeah, something like that."
        Kozue modulated her tone, making it less jocular but still
light, and asked, "Any candidates in mind?"
        "Maybe," Corwin said, climbing up into the top bunk.  "We'll
see how the next couple weeks go."  He took the envelope from his
pocket and opened it; it was another letter from New Avalon, relayed
by Kate and Utena.  This one was in slightly neater handwriting than
the previous, and had a somewhat less flippant tone, too:

Dear Corwin,

I hope that this letter finds you in good health and that all is well.
Despite the impression that you may have gathered from Chip's letter (no, I
haven't read it, but I have a pretty good idea of how he writes), things
are fairly uneventful back at Koopman High.  I should amend that--things
are uneventful except for certain incidents of egos being punctured in
rather spectacular ways.  Chip has admitted to me that he had a hand (a
rather large one, I think) in these, but I doubt that anyone will make the
connection.  This is not to say, however, that my brother is malicious by
nature; I think it's just his way of looking out for his friends.  His
recent appointment as Treasurer seems to have made him a bit more
level-headed, which is good considering that a few girl friends of mine are
making inquiries about his availability.  I can safely say that Chip will
be the Eternal Best Friend for quite some time, and I think he likes it
that way.

I should really be going now.  After my singing lessons, I'm going to give
babysitting Wapiko a try in a couple of days.  Wish me luck!  Oh, and if
you happen to run into Kozue Kaoru, tell her that I know what it's like to
have a girl-magnet for a brother.

Cordially,
Reiyna Mui

        "'Cordially,'" Corwin chuckled.  "Only Reiyna."
        "Pardon?" said Kozue.
        "Oh, nothing," said Corwin.  He put the letter back in its
envelope, leaned down from his bunk and put it into the top drawer of
his bureau, then sat up, stretched, and yawned.  "I'm beat.  Good
night, Kozue."
        Kozue switched off the overhead light, leaving only the little
pool from the desk lamp illuminating her homework.  "Night, Corwin."

        Clarissa left Hannibal Hamlin at three in the morning; she'd
pulled her bright hair under a dark watch cap and dressed in black,
down to her soft-soled shoes.  Marcus Finch had left the jerrycan of
gasoline stashed in the low hedges that separated the Castle from the
rest of the campus.  All she had to do was pick it up, get into that
blasted rose garden, and spill enough to go up satisfyingly when she
dropped a match.
        She made it to the jerrycan's location easily enough; being
that DSM had a fairly strict late-night curfew of 2am, no one was around
to see her strolling down from her own dorm.  She smiled as her
gloved hand closed over the rough metal of the can's handle.  Tenjou's
alleged wife would never know what had happened to her precious roses;
Tenjou herself would be so busy consoling the wilting little tart that
they'd probably both fail out and go back to... whatever little Outer
Rim planet had originally spawned them.  Palmer's failure in the
clutch had convinced her of the truth of the old saying: If you want
something done right, do it yourself.
        She got up from her hiding place and crept towards the ornate
iron birdcage.  Where HAD the Duelists gotten the time and resources
to build such a rococo thing?  It certainly clashed with the rest of
the local decor.  She sniffed derisively and set to work with the lock
confounder one of her other minions had procured.
        "I really, really wouldn't do that," someone whispered behind
her shoulder.
        Clarissa jumped and whirled, kicking over the can and making a
small noise of fright.  Janice Barlow, Hannibal Hamlin 2's RA, stepped
out of her way and righted the can before any more of its contents
spilled.  The RA turned and gave Clarissa a thoroughly unpleasant
smile.
        "I'd say you're out after curfew," Janice observed
conversationally, "but I think that's sort of overshadowed by your
attempt at arson, don't you?"
        "You're out after curfew too," Clarissa said, mustering some
semblance of bravado.
        Janice shrugged.  "I do a lot of bad things for good reasons
these days," she replied; the accusation seemed to amuse her.  "And, at
any rate, I'm not even going to bother to file a report."
        "You're not?" Clarissa said hopefully.
        "Why should I?" Janice replied with a smirk.  She touched the
IPO commbadge pinned to her Zorak t-shirt and grinned nastily.  "Never
know when one of these is going to come in handy for calling in the 
cavalry," she said.  "Have as nice a night as you can manage, Clarissa.  
Mitra, stop trying to eat the evidence and c'mon, we've got to get back 
to bed.  We're out after curfew, you know."
        With that, the Ragolian walked away unconcernedly, her Mag
trailing behind.
        Clarissa looked around, puzzled.  What did she mean, cavalry?
There was nobody out here.  The Castle was dark and silent, its
vestibule lamp off, only the soft fill lights on the walls glowing in
the silent evening.  No one had come out to see what she was up to.
There didn't seem to be any signs of alarm at all.
        Slowly, Clarissa first regained her composure, then her cruel
smile.  That stupid colonial bitch!  Whatever she'd tried to do with
the commbadge, she must have botched it.  Nobody had heard her call,
nobody was coming, and she'd gone and walked away!  Of course, if the
garden burned down now, Janice would certainly know who had been
responsible - but she might be too embarrassed by her failure to avert
the disaster to come forward, and anyway, Clarissa still had the RA's
own curfew violation to hold over her if it came down to testimony.
It might be worth the risk... 
        She turned around to take another look at the birdcage and
consider her options.
        Something was standing between her and the door, so close it
was almost touching her - something that hadn't been there when Janice
had surprised her.
        Clarissa tried to scream, but darkness overwhelmed her, and
all she heard was a dry, humorless chuckle.

        "Nnnggh," Wakaba Shinohara mumbled in complaint as Kyouichi
Saionji climbed back into bed with cold feet.  "The hell've you been?"
        "Not far," Saionji replied with a familiar trace of dry humor
in his whisper.  "Just had to take care of some vermin."
        "Wha?  No, f'get it.  Don't wanna know."
        Saionji smiled and kissed her forehead.  "Go back to sleep,
Wakaba."
        "Good plan," Wakaba mumbled, and did so.

        Kaitlyn's orchestra gave their Spring Concert the following
evening; the weather cooperated, beautiful and warm, so that they
could do it outdoors in the Amphitheater, and a great occasion it was.
Corwin and Anthy cut short their weekly get-together, skipping the
road trip to Mitsumaru this once, so that they could be certain and
attend, and it was well worth the sacrifice.  All the hard work by
Kaitlyn and her musicians paid off in a lovely show to cap the
inaugural year of their new institution and say goodbye to their
outgoing seniors, Chenann among them.
        On Sunday morning, May 7, Corwin Ravenhair completed his
World-Engine.  The Tenjous, the Rune Knights, Nall, the Student
Council, the Master Mage, his apprentice, and the Master Smith were on
hand to see it brought online.
        Compared to Yggdrasil, the great World-Engine of Asgard, it
wasn't all that much to look at - but in its own right it was a very
impressive machine, a great assemblage of cams, arms, levers and gears
taking up half the hundred-foot-square room.  Along with its
accompanying microfusion steam plant, it took up almost the entirety
of the lower level of the Engine Room under the White Tower.  In order
to accommodate the Engine, Corwin had, with Presea and Kozue's help,
divided the twenty-foot-high room into two levels by installing a
perimeter walkway and center catwalk at the ten-foot level, accessible
by stairs near the entrance doors at either end of the room.  At the
center of that catwalk was the Console on its gleaming pedestal,
rising from the center of the Engine.
        The assembled guests stood along the perimeter walk behind the
Console as Corwin, in his full Rune Knight's regalia, manipulated its
knobs and levers.  Slowly, the Engine began to turn, first its primary
stage, then its more intricate secondary stage, then the almost
impossibly fine mechanisms of the tertiary stage, just below the
Console pedestal.  It was turning at idle, no program entered or
running, but even that was impressive to the observers.
        Ceremoniously, Corwin turned and took a large roll of punched
paper tape from a box Kozue was holding for him.  Grinning at her, he
threaded it onto the console's reader head, then turned to a little
round pedestal that extended from the edge of the Console to his
left.  This was a curious device that resembled an enormous keylock,
but if it were that, then the key would have to be the size of a
broadsword.
        Which, in fact, was exactly what it was.  Corwin drew from a
scabbard at his belt a gleaming golden sword, its surface interlaced
with a delicate tracery of what looked like circuitry.  It glittered
in the overhead lights almost as if the circuit traces were lit from
within.
        With great deliberation, Corwin positioned the blade over the
keyslot and drove it home; the machinery accepted it with a resounding
CLUNK that echoed in the corners of the Engine Room.  Then, gripping
the sword's still-exposed grip, he twisted it a bit to the right;
there was another CLUNK, and it seemed as if the Engine shifted gears,
its parts whirling with more purpose, more energy.
        "Program load!" Corwin declared, and he threw one of the
Console's larger levers.  The tape reader started chattering and
feeding, realigning various parts of the Engine's tertiary stage as it
did so.  The read process took five minutes, after which Corwin
removed the spent tape from the reader and ceremoniously put it back
into the box Kozue was still holding.
        Trading another little grin with his assistant, Corwin took
hold of the sword again, then declared loudly,
        "PROGRAM START!"
        With that, he twisted the blade another quarter-turn.  There
was another CLUNK, this one the deepest and most resounding of all,
and three large red lights glowed on the Console panel.  The Engine's
tertiary stage hesitated, then began to work with a whole new level of
animation, its whirring rising audibly in pitch.  The secondary stage
did the same, more deliberately but just as energetically; then the
primary stage slowly, ponderously followed suit.  As each one came up
to its new speed, the three red lights turned green.
        When the third one changed, they all felt it - everyone in the
room, whether by membership in the Trinity or the Rune Knights or the
Order of the Rose, or just by being a creature of magic like the
Master Smith or the Master Mage or the Great Dragon in their midst,
they all felt the Engine take hold of Cephiro's reality, take it
firmly in hand.  Corwin's brand flickered, shifting halfway to its
more elaborate full-power form as the seal cuff on his left ear sang;
then it fell back to normal, its glow faded, and he smiled.
        "Engine online," he declared delightedly.  He punched one last
key on the Console; with a soft hydraulic hiss, the lock cylinder
retracted like a periscope into the Console, a clamshell of gleaming
armor closing over the hilt of the sword-key to lock it in place.
        "Console locked and operating normally," Kozue reported,
looking over the gauges.  Then she turned, high-fived Corwin, and
announced, "Looks like we did it, boss!"
        "Incredible," said Clef softly.  "I never would have believed
it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."  Then he squared himself on
the catwalk and bowed to Corwin.  "You have my apologies, my Pillar.
I am sorry I ever doubted.  I can feel the difference already - all
Cephiro feels a stability that it has never known before."
        Corwin grinned.  "'Sall part of the service," he said.
        "So," said Kozue as she and Corwin, back in their regular
school uniforms, left the Tower with the others, some bound for the
Forest of Secrets and the gate home, others for their local homes.
"Does this mean you'll be leaving us?"
        "Hmm... well, I've stayed this long," he said.  "I guess I
might's'well finish the school year.  Strickland's gonna make me take
my Koopman High finals either way," he added, grinning.  "I'm gonna
head over to Midgard this afternoon, but I guess I can come back
tonight if you still want me around."
        Kozue grinned.  "I guess I've gotten used to you," she said,
thumping him on the shoulder.  "See you tonight - I'm gonna go take a
nap.  After that last all-nighter, I think I've earned it!"
        "I'll say," Corwin replied, nodding.  "Thanks for all your
help, Kozue.  I'll be back tonight."
        "OK - bye everybody!"
        "Well, she's certainly more cheerful these days," Utena
mused.  She glanced at Corwin, then murmured to Anthy, "(You don't
suppose... )"
        "(No, I do not,)" Anthy replied primly, "(and neither do you.)"
        "If you like, Mr. Corwin, I can help you study for your finals
some evening or evenings next week," offered Fuu Hououji.
        "Thanks, Fuu," said Corwin, grinning sheepishly.  "I think I'd
be toast if you didn't.  Be a hell of a note to have to do the ninth
grade over again after all this," he added wryly.
        "Indeed," replied Fuu, with a little smile to let him know she
knew he was joking.
        "Say, angel," Corwin went on.  "You busy this afternoon?"
        "Not that I know of," said Fuu.  "Why?"
        "Want to go to a baseball game?  Satori Mandeville's got a
pitcher who's not half bad... "
        Utena gave Anthy another you-don't-suppose look, but to this,
Anthy only shrugged.

        The next afternoon, on the last Monday of classes, R. Dorothy
Wayneright was sitting in a chair by the library fireplace (no fire
going on a day as lovely and warm as this), reading a book, when there
came the clang of the main doorbell.  This struck her as somewhat odd
- people tended to just come on in - but she decided to answer it
anyway, since she was probably the closest one.  She got up, took
Peril the cat from her lap and put him down in the chair she'd been
occupying, went out into the entrance hall and answered the door.  A
couple of other people had come out of doorways on the upper level and
out of the dueling hall to see what was going on.
        What was going on was apparently Harcourt McKenzie, dressed in
his Freespacer dress uniform and looking nervous.
        "Good afternoon, Mac," said Dorothy cordially.  "What can I do
for you?"
        "Hello, Dorothy... um, actually, I'm here to see Liza Shustal,
if she's available."
        Dorothy debated splitting the hair of "available" for 0.022
seconds, then nodded.  "Just a second, I'll call her.  Come in."
        McKenzie crossed the threshold into the castle but didn't come
any further, standing uncomfortably on the edge of the rug and looking
around.  Dorothy went to the intercom panel and paged Azalynn's room.
While she waited for someone to answer her hail, she looked McKenzie
up and down, noting the high polish of boots and cutlass, the straight
creases in his grey slacks, the new double-bar rank insignia on his
Freespacer dress tunic lapel.
        "Hello?" said the panel in Liza's voice.
        "Liza," said Dorothy, "it's McKenzie at the door in a cunning
disguise."
        "Ha ha," muttered Mac, "make this easier, why don't you."
        Mac had been even more of a cipher during D term than usual,
except for the now twice-daily weekend shuttle runs he made in the No
Bull.  He'd even disappeared altogether from the campus for almost a
week, reappearing only to collapse into his bed for twenty hours from
exhaustion.  The others had seen him in classes, on the shuttle runs
(those who took Mac's bargain-fare rides, anyway) and rarely in
backgrounds at certain events, such as baseball games... and nowhere
else.  G'Kron had begun muttering about chaining his roommate to the
bed again.
        Liza took a few minutes to come down, during which period Mac
wondered as to the location of the king-sized scratching post he'd
eventually given Sergei as a Christmas present, nervously brushed
nonexistent dandruff from his shoulder, and ran a comb fruitlessly
through his toothbrush-shaped hairdo.  Those others in the castle's
main hall tried their best not to stare or laugh.
        Liza finally came down the stairs, looking as rumpled and
informal as Mac looked trim and uberformal.  Looking Mac over with a
mixture of trepidation and amusement, she asked quietly, "Well, Mac,
what can I do for you?"
        Mac stammered for a few seconds, looking so doe-eyed that
Moose MacEchearn had an idle image of his head mounted on some
redneck's wall, labeled 'An Honest Mistake.' Finally, he gathered his
wits, pulled himself to attention, and said, "Captain-Governor
Shustal, I humbly request the honor of escorting you to the upcoming
Spring Formal, with dinner beforehand at Primavera's on Bajor."
        Liza's eyebrows went up.  This was a major prodigy: aside from
occasional Art of Noise concerts and last year's Formal (for which he
was drafted by his roommate G'Kron), Mac avoided social occasions like
the Sargon spotty plague.  He was well-known for being almost as
resistant to the social scene at the Institute as was the Narn he
roomed with (although both of them looked even more insular than they
were in comparison with gregarious Marmo, their third roommate).
        She cracked a wry little grin and said, "You believe in
leaving things until the last minute, don't you, McKenzie?  The
Formal's -this Saturday-."
        Mac went a little red and said, "I, ah... was very busy.
Y'know, making arrangements, for transport, reservations...  If... if
I'm too late and you've made other arrangements, I understand."
        It had been an outside shot and Mac knew it; after all, it was
no secret that Liza had a steady girlfriend in Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan, 
and the odds were that -she'd- be Liza's date for the Formal.  Still,
some force had compelled him to make the effort.  He'd felt too
strongly that he'd regret it if he didn't at least ask.  This ground
was as unfamiliar for him as it was for his observers... 
        He realized that while he'd been thinking about this, Liza had
been looking at him with a curious veiled half-smile, and his heart
sank.
        "I'm sorry," he said, face flaming red again.  "I - "
        "Relax, McKenzie, I was just thinking.  I hadn't actually been
planning to go, but what the hell."  She squared herself up as best
she could in her wrinkly jeans and rumpled, half-buttoned man's dress
shirt, saluted with a grin, and said, "Captain McKenzie, I'd be
honored.  Saturday at four?"
        Mac blinked, then actually cracked a smile and relaxed a
little in relief.  "That's... that's perfectly acceptable, yes."
        "Well, then, I'll look forward to it," said Liza.  "Any
particular color I should wear?"
        Mac proved unusually resistant to teasing now that his mission
was accomplished; he and Liza traded a few minor barbs and then he
went on his way, looking extremely pleased with himself.  Liza, for
her part, watched him go, then let out a thoughtful little "huh" and
went back upstairs.
        "What was that all about?" asked Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan as
Liza entered the room they shared.
        "Looks like I've got a date for the Formal," said Liza with a
smile, plopping herself down on the bed.
        Azalynn turned around in her desk chair, golden eyes wide.
"No kidding!  You mean he actually asked you?"
        Liza nodded, hands behind her head, golden curls falling
carelessly around her face.  "Dress uniform and everything."
        "Wow.  Maybe there's hope for him yet."  Azalynn put down her
pen and climbed up onto the bed next to the blonde.  "So," she asked
with a wicked grin.  "Is he gonna get lucky?"
        "Don't you ever think about anything else?" asked Liza with
mock exasperation.
        "Not if I can help it," Azalynn replied cheerfully, putting a
hand inside her roommate's half-buttoned shirt.

        "Well, McKenzie," said G'Kron as his roommate entered.  "Was
your mission a successful one?"
        "As a matter of fact it was," said Mac.  He went to his
closet, got out some more comfortable clothes, and started to change.
        "Well done!" said Beld Marmo from his desk.  "Bravo.  What do
you think your chances are?" asked the Centauri with a sly grin.
        "Well, I don't know," Mac replied offhandedly.  "On the one
hand, it is technically a first date.  I'm not going to press it... "
        Beld nodded sagely.  "Stroking works better anyway," he noted.
        "Marmo!" said G'Kron, shocked.

        With Fuu Hououji's help, Corwin completed his Koopman High
final exams and passed his freshman year in absentia.  The Spring
Formal came and was a big success, held for the first time in Satori
Mandeville Memorial's grand ballroom instead of off campus in a rented
hotel.  After its pomp and pageantry, the Duelists gritted their teeth
and plowed through D-term's finals, finishing out the year in grand
style.  Beld Marmo and Chenann graduated, and the others attended
their commencement to cheer and honor their upperclass friends.
        The first year of the Deedlit Satori Mandeville Memorial
Institute passed into history as a rousing success - for everyone
except Clarissa Broadbank, who went home for the summer with an empty
scorecard and the beginnings of a nasty nervous tic.
        With classes and ceremonies concluded, most of the school's
student body scattered to the winds, heading home for the summer.  Mac
McKenzie was heading back to Zeta Cygni to accept an internship at the
IPO Fleet Yards, gaining practical experience for his life's ambition
of space construction by working with the team building the first
production run of the Next Generation Destroyer for the Space Force.
G'Kron wasn't going quite that far; his course for the summer took him
only to Babylon 5, where he would be assisting his uncle, Ambassador
G'Kar, over the summer.
        The Duelists (except for Beld, their first alumnus, who was
off to Centauri Prime to "waste my summer in the most pointless
possible pursuits" before starting college) stayed on in the Castle
for a few extra days, preparing themselves and their formalwear for a
gala occasion to be held on Babylon 5 on the last day of May.  Anthy
spent much of that time putting her rose garden into the best order
she could; Mr. Haineley had very graciously offered to look after it
for her while she was away.
        On Wednesday, May 24, Commander Jer Johnson of the IPO-SF,
commanding officer of the Babylon station, abruptly announced his
retirement from active IPO service to take a job as ambassador from
the Republic of Zeta Cygni to the Minbari Federation.  This was an
emergency move prompted by the sudden, unexpected death from
quartectic fever of the previous Avalonian ambassador to Minbar, and
it made Lieutenant Commander Susan Ivanova's week quite interesting -
because on the same day, the station's chief of security, Major Kira
Nerys, was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel in the Bajoran Armed Forces,
then seconded to the IPO-SF to take command of the first DDNG, IPS
Defiant, fresh from the Space Force graving docks at Zeta Cygni II.
        This left Ivanova in the unenviable position of having to do
three jobs - her old job as executive officer, command, and security
coordination - but, as a good soldier and a driven, detail-oriented
individual, she tackled the job with determination and without
complaint.  At least, not where anybody could hear her.  IPO Chief and
Space Force Fleet Captain Benjamin Hutchins assured her that it would
only be for a week - she'd be getting a new CO and a new chief of
security on the following Wednesday - and in the meantime, would a
promotion to full commander with the pay raise retroactive to
Christmas help?  He was informed that it would, but not excessively.
        On Monday, May 29, Captain Utena Tenjou (IPO-SFR) reported to
the office of Fleet Captain Benjamin Hutchins aboard the flagship, IPS
Challenger, in orbit over Jeraddo.  There she submitted her final crew
selection roster for the Fleet Captain's approval.  This was more or
less a formality; both she and Gryphon had known who she would be
taking with her since the beginning of the month.  Still, he made a
show of looking it over before setting his thumbprint to it and filing
it.
        "There's just a couple of little things to go over," he said.
"Like we discussed before, there are a couple of jobs on board ship
which need more than basic familiarization training in order to make
this work, even -with- the DDNG's streamlined interface systems.  I've
made final assignments for those - pending the captain's approval, of
course," he added with a grin.
        Utena sat down in the chair opposite his desk, grinned, and
said, "Let's hear 'em."
        "First is your Chief Medical Officer," said Gryphon.  "The
automated medical facilities on the DDNGs are state of the art, but
even so, nothing beats experience in the field, so I'm sending a
member of the IPO Medical Corps with you."  The Fleet Captain punched
up a dossier on the large display screen behind him, making Utena
think amusedly of a network news anchor.
        The face in the file photo was almost human, except for some
peculiar ridges around the eyes and up the forehead - not a species
she immediately recognized, but not very far from the human norm.  He
looked like a pleasant enough fellow, roundish-faced and smiling
pleasantly at the camera.
        "His name is Phlox," said Gryphon.  "He's Denobulan, a
graduate of the New Avalon Institute of Science Medical College, board
certified in xenomedicine, and a hell of a nice guy.  He won't have
any trouble taking orders from you as long as you don't try to take
him too far away from his lab," he added, grinning.
        Utena nodded.  "Good enough."
        "The others you mostly know already.  I'm sending Klaang out
as your Science Officer; the computers can automate a lot of routine
sensor stuff, but if you run into anything weird you're going to need
an experienced scientist to tell you what you're looking at.  He's not
bad in a fight, either, if you run into one."
        Utena grinned.  Klaang tai-Kalaan was a cousin of her Klingon
teacher and the Duelist Society's faculty advisor, Professor Kraalgh.
She wouldn't mind having him along on her summer's tour of the galaxy
at all.
        "The ship's an experimental prototype on shakedown; it's
traditional to have some shipyard personnel on board.  Your
engineering staff will be about a quarter of the DDNG team from the
Zeta C yards under Zefram Cochrane."
        "I thought Corwin was going to be my chief engineer."
        "Oh, he will - Zed will report to him and like it," Gryphon
said with a grin.  "Cochrane and his team will be responsible for
keeping the drive systems going - Corwin can see to everything else.
There should be plenty of work for everybody, the first little while.
New ships always find interesting things for the engineers to do.
Anyway, Zed and his people will be civilians, out of the official
chain of command - they're just there to help out with the new
equipment, take notes for the production series, and stay out of the
way.
        "Aside from that, lessee... "  Gryphon paged through some
notes.  "Ah, right, your security division.  I realize with all those
Duelists on board you've already got a pretty tough squad to put up
against potential boarders or skirmish with pirates, but you can
always use more - and extra hands to help out with damage control
don't hurt either.  I've asked a mutual friend to handle your security
force, to make sure the lid stays on if things start boiling - you
remember Gudrun Truemace, I'm sure."
        Utena grinned again.  "Are they -all- Valkyrie?"
        "No, no," said Gryphon with a chuckle, then added, grinning,
"Too expensive.  You'll have to rely on Gudrun, Janice Barlow,
whichever Duelists you assign, and an AEGIS officer."
        Utena perked up a little.  "AEGIS is operational?"
        "First class just graduated," replied Gryphon with a nod.
"Your friend Carter will be in the second batch next year.  You might
want to warn your crew ahead of time, in case any of them have any
lingering problems with telepaths after last year's fiasco - Liza
comes to mind.  I'll give you a copy of your AEGIS operative's file
along with the others before you leave.  She's really a very nice
girl.  Totally dedicated to the AEGIS ideals, or she wouldn't have
stuck out the training - so I don't think there'll be any trouble...
but after last year it's fair to give them warning."
        "I don't think it'll be a problem," Utena agreed, "but it's
nice to know ahead of time.  Is that everything?"
        "I think so.  No, one more thing," he corrected himself.
"Another reservist, in Security rather than the Space Force, has asked
if she can go along.  I didn't make the assignment outright because
she's not a token adult - she's younger than the rest of you.  Figured
I'd check with you before I told her it was OK."
        "Oh?  Who?"
        "Mimi Shinguuji, Sakura and Ichiro's daughter - you met her
last Christmas.  She's just finished the eighth grade and is thinking
about going to DSM next year; she figures it's pretty much inevitable
she'd end up hanging around with the Duelists' Society anyway, so she
might as well get into the flow of things early."
        Utena grinned.  "Well, she doesn't have a confidence problem,
I'll say that," she remarked.  "Sure, we'd be glad to have her along.
Which reminds me, obliquely - what are our -orders- going to be?
What'll we be out there to -do-?"
        "Well, I haven't finished cutting the orders yet, but we're
trying to keep it pretty low-impact.  The important thing will be to
test out the ship and try to stay out of serious trouble; aside from
that, well, you remember the oath... "
        "'Protect the innocent, give aid to the helpless... '"
        Gryphon nodded.  "Exactly.  More specific instructions will be
forthcoming when you've assumed command, but they won't be too
strenuous.  We like to take things easy on the new kids."
        Utena laughed.  "Thanks," she said wryly.
        "All part of the service."  He leaned forward, elbows on his
desk, and grinned at her.  "Excited?"
        "Are you kidding?" she replied.  "It's one more thing to put
on the list of things I can't quite believe are happening.  Are you
seriously going to announce this whole thing right in front of
everybody on B5 Wednesday?"
        Gryphon nodded.  "Yep.  Right in front of God 'n everybody.
Well, not literally, but you know."
        She shook her head, grinning.  "Man.  That's gonna put a few
noses out of joint, I think."
        "I'm looking forward to it," Gryphon replied; then his grin
faded, becoming a concerned look, and he said, "Unless it'd really
bother you... "
        "Oh, hell, no - if I worried about what people think of me,
I'd never have done most of the things I've done in life," said Utena
with a wry smirk.  "I was just making sure you'd thought of it."
        Gryphon laughed, then rose from his chair; Utena stood up as
well, and they shook hands on the whole deal with mock solemnity that
the irrepressable grins on their faces put the lie to.

        Wednesday afternoon, the last day of May, found the Duelists'
Society and Musicians' Federation dressed in their best and gathered
along with the diplomatic staff and officers of International Police
Station Babylon Five in the station's cavernous main docking bay.  In
her Space Force dress uniform, Utena glanced at her watch and grumbled
softly.
        "(What's the matter?)" asked Anthy quietly.
        "(Corwin's late,)" Utena replied under her breath.
        "(I wouldn't worry about that,)" Liza Shustal whispered.
"(Commander Ivanova's not down from the Command Deck yet, which means
she isn't done parking all the ships that have shown up for this.  She
probably had to send him down to Bajor to park and have him beamed up
or something.  Lots of bigwigs turning out for the occasion... )"

        "One-Hit Wonder, this is Babylon Control.  Our internal
docking facilities are closed.  Handing you off to Bajor ASTC for
surface approach vector; you can transport up from there."
        "Roger, Babylon Control," replied Corwin.  Looking at the
crowded airspace around the station, he couldn't say he was surprised;
it looked like diplomatic and military envoys from every government
involved in the Babylon Project were here, in addition to the usual
ambassadorial staffs.  Challenger was riding herd on the lot of them,
assisted by the Klingon battlecruiser HoSghaj.  The WDF battleship
Pennsylvania was, curiously, holding station near B5 itself, not
participating in the traffic patrol.
        A click sounded in his headset, and then a pleasant female
voice said, "One-Hit Wonder, One-Hit Wonder, this is Bajor Aerospace
Traffic Control.  You have been passed to our control.  Come in,
please."
        "Roger, Bajor Control, I read you."
        "Set navigational computer for ground-feed approach vector,"
said the Bajor controller briskly.
        Corwin complied with instructions.  "Vector received, Bajor
Control, thank you."
        "Very well, One-Hit Wonder.  See you in five minutes."
        Corwin covered his microphone and said with a wry grin to his
passengers, "This is probably the busiest they've ever been."
        Fuu Hououji peered past him from the navigator's seat, nodding
thoughtfully.  "Hmm... " she mused.
        "What?" asked Hikaru Shidou.
        "Is it just me, Corwin, or is the station's thermocoat a
little darker than it should be?" asked Fuu.
        Corwin looked.  "Huh.  It does seem a bit on the dark side."
Then he shrugged.  "Probably just still curing."
        "Mm," replied Fuu; she nodded, but her expression was still
pensive as she watched the station glide past.
        Kozue Kaoru, who had never traveled in space before, stared
around in wide-eyed astonishment that reminded Corwin pleasantly of
her brother getting his first eyeful of metaspace.
        "That's Babylon 5?"
        "That's it," Corwin replied.
        "It's -huge-!"
        "Five miles from docking port to reactor cooling fins," said
Nall from Uum'y R'yuu-z'ky's shoulder.  "There are bigger stations out
there.  Heck, Babylon 4 was at least twice this size.  Budget
problems... you lose enough construction projects and the backers
aren't quite as eager to sign up for the next attempt."
        "Wow... "
        "Wait'll you see the -inside-," said Corwin with a grin.

        Corwin, Kozue, the Rune Knights and Nall made it to the
docking bay in a little less than seven minutes, and weren't late
after all compared with the station's executive officer, Susan
Ivanova; she arrived four minutes after them, looking distinctly
harried.  But then, she had good reason to be.  She'd been doing three
jobs for a week.  She'd had four hours of sleep last night, on the
orders of the station's Chief Medical Officer, and that was the
longest, soundest block she'd had in the last week.
        But it had all come together, and come together beautifully,
except for a few last-minute snags with parking.  The Bajoran
government had been a paragon of cooperation in helping her get those
sorted out - one of theirs getting command of one of the IPO Space
Force's Next Generation Destroyers was a big feather in the Bajoran
Armed Forces' cap, and they were feeling expansive about it.  And now
everything was ready and everyone was in place, and Fleet Captain
Hutchins could finally get around to telling everybody who would
replace Commander Johnson and Major Kira.
        The man looked inordinately pleased with himself as he crossed
the reviewing stand that had been set up near the main airlock,
stepped to the podium, and smiled out at the assembled diplomats and
officers.
        "Good afternoon, everyone," he said.  "We've got a few things
to get straightened out today, so let's jump right into it.  Commander
Ivanova?"
        Ivanova straightened the tunic of her Starfleet uniform,
mounted to the podium, and saluted the Fleet Captain smartly.  "The
station is prepared for transfer of command, sir!" she reported.
        Gryphon nodded, smiling.  "Thank you," he said.  He turned to
his own chief of security, the Vulcan Lieutenant T'Vek, and nodded.
        "Atten-HUT!" she barked, and the uniformed IPO Security honor
guard flanking the airlock came to attention.  The airlock door
clicked, then hissed open, and T'Vek raised a bosun's pipe to her lips
and blew a piercing salute before declaring,
        "Commander, Babylon Station, arriving!"
        Out of the cloud of vapor released by the airlock (a rather
theatrical touch, thought Utena with a smile) strode the massive
figure of Captain Derek Bacon, dressed in the dress uniform of the IPO
Space Force rather than the WDF uniform B5 regulars had grown accustomed 
to seeing him in during the station's first year of operation.  Just
behind Bacon's right elbow came the similarly-uniformed shape of his
ship's security chief, Michael Garibaldi.  A Master Sergeant in the
WDF Marine Corps before now, Garibaldi today wore the rank bar of an
IPO Chief Warrant Officer - almost a commissioned rank, but not quite.
        Susan Ivanova was very proud of herself for not goggling at
Bacon.  In the Space Force's scarlet-trimmed black uniform, he looked
even bigger and more imposing than he had in the Wedge Defense Force's
royal blue and brass.  What was more, his face was completely serious,
a most unaccustomed expression, as he strode down the red carpet to
the podium, stopped, right-faced smartly, and saluted the Fleet
Captain, Garibaldi ramrod straight and impassive at his side, the very
picture of a senior NCO.
        He reached into the flap of his uniform jacket, drew out a
piece of heavy yellowish paper, and snapped it open with a dramatic
flourish, then read from it in a clear, resounding voice:
        "Monday, May 29, 2406.  To: Captain Derek G. Bacon, WDF
Pennsylvania, From: Grand Admiral Noriko R. Takaya, C in C Wedge
Defense Force Navy.  You are hereby notified that your commission and
that of your vessel have been seconded to the International Police
Organization Space Force as of this date.  You are requested and
required to proceed to the Babylon Project station at Bajor and
present yourself no later than Wednesday, May 31, to Fleet Captain
Benjamin D. Hutchins, C in C IPO-SF, and to comply with all lawful
orders issued by the command structure of the IPO Space Force from
this date until such time as your commission is returned by the Space
Force to the WDF.  Signed, Grand Admiral Noriko R. Takaya, CINCNAV."
He folded the paper again, handed it to Gryphon, saluted once more,
and said, "Reporting as ordered, Fleet Captain."
        Gryphon nodded, tucked the order away in his own uniform
jacket, drew out another, and handed it to Bacon.  "Your new orders,
Captain."
        Bacon took the new orders, snapped them open just as smartly
as the previous ones, and read them in the same voice:
        "Wednesday, May 31, 2406.  To: Captain Derek G. Bacon, IPS
Pennsylvania, From: Fleet Captain Benjamin D. Hutchins, Chief of
International Police Operations.  You are hereby requested and
required to turn command of your vessel over to Commander Davonn of
the IPO Space Force Reserve (promotion to Captain pending).  You are
further required to assume command of International Police Station
Babylon at Bajor as of this date.  Signed, Fleet Captain Benjamin
D. Hutchins."
        Closing his new orders with a third flourish, Bacon tucked
them away, turned to Ivanova, and saluted her.
        She returned the salute and said with admirable aplomb given
the situation, "Captain, the station is yours.  Welcome to Babylon
Five."  Her stance, her salute, and her discipline were all perfect.
Derek almost hated to ruin them... but the show had to go on, after
all.  He frowned thoughtfully at her, causing her strict professional
look to crack slightly in consternation.  What could be the matter?
        "I beg your pardon, Commander?"
        Ivanova blinked - had she said something wrong?  She knew she
was tired, but surely not enough so to fumble something as simple as
the formalities of a transfer of command.  She squared her shoulders
and tried again:
        "Captain, the station is yours.  Welcome to Babylon Five!"
        Bacon's scowl only deepened.  He pointed to the bulkhead on
the far wall, to which Ivanova's back was presently turned, and said,
"Commander, can you tell me what that sign over the bay entrance says,
please?"
        Ivanova was now -very- puzzled.  The boilerplate greeting sign
over the exit was identical in every docking bay.  She turned,
beginning to feel annoyed - was her new commander playing some kind of
silly seniority game with her?  If so, she didn't appreciate it; she
was a professional, and didn't need to be put into the proper place in
the chain of command by being patronized by her superiors.  She'd
never seen anything in Bacon's demeanor during her year working with
him as WDF liaison that would make her think he treated his
subordinates this way, but then she hadn't been working with him.
These old-time WDF types were all a bit weird - look at the Chief of
IP Operations.
        "It says the same thing it's always said, sir," she said
gamely; then she looked up at the sign and read it aloud without
bothering to read it silently first:
        "'Welcome to Babylon Six.'"
        There was a long, awkward moment of silence.  The diplomats
and guests glanced uncomfortably at each other.  Ivanova blanched,
then looked surreptitiously at the patch on her shoulder.  Sure
enough, it said '6'.  So did the patches on all the security officers'
jackets.  So did the welcoming carpet.
        Her mind spun.  She knew she was tired, but had she somehow
forgotten what -number- the -station- was?!  Was this the beginning of
some kind of delusional cycle?  Was she losing it after too long in
space?  Or could it be a side effect of the - 
        A soft noise broke the silence.  Ivanova's eyes slid sideways
to see Chief Garibaldi struggling to hold back... a cough?
        No.
        Laughter.
        In an instant, dawn broke clear on Susan Ivanova's mind, and
she knew that she had just been -had-.  Right here in front of God 'n
everybody, as Fleet Captain Hutchins might put it.  If there was one
thing she had learned, and should have remembered, in her year of
working alongside Derek Bacon and Michael Garibaldi, it was that the
pair of them were inveterate pranksters.  Hadn't they been responsible
for the trick-or-treating incident the previous Halloween?  Ambassador
Delenn from Minbar had been confused for -days-.  Hadn't they been the
ones who had piped the Centauri porn channel into Ambassador Mollari's
quarters when he was trying to show off the station's entertainment
facilities to Emperor Turhan's widow?
        "GARIBALDI!" she barked, whirling to confront him, and
Garibaldi could not contain himself any longer.  He burst out
laughing, tears running down his face.  So did some of the security
men, and a few of the diplomats - Londo Mollari, who appreciated a
good joke as much as the next guy once he got over his mortal
embarrassment, was nearly prostrate with amusement.
        Ivanova stared at Garibaldi, speechless with rage, until
suddenly she felt Captain Bacon's very large hand on her shoulder.
She turned her eyes to him, ready to snap and blurt out all the anger
she felt at being made a fool of in such a fashion, when she saw the
warm, benevolent smile on his face.  It seemed to say, "C'mon.  We're
all friends here, right?  It was a good joke.  Admit it."
        Susan Ivanova was a woman who was well in touch with her
anger.  Somehow, though, she found it impossible to stay mad now.
Something in the Captain's smile forced her to stop, calm down, and
think about it rationally for a moment.  The two of them had somehow
managed to get here, or get agents here, while the Pennsylvania was
still en route from Zeta Cygni and change -everything-.  The comm
screens (now that she noticed them; the big one on the side bulkhead,
showing an exterior view of the station from one of the hovering drone
cameras, had the new '6' logo in the corner).  The decorations.  The
patches on everyone's uniforms, INCLUDING HERS.
        It was a -hell- of a joke, a hell of an -achievement-.  It
must have required tremendous effort, resourcefulness, and, yes, even
discipline to accomplish.
        Impossibly, she felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
Bacon's eyes twinkled; he grinned and patted her shoulder, and
somehow, that made everything all right.  Unaccustomed to finding
things funny, especially when they'd been unveiled somewhat at her own
expense, Ivanova tried to fight it for a little while, holding back
the way Garibaldi had, but it was no use.  She snickered; she snorted;
then she threw back her head and laughed with the rest of them, which
brought -everyone- into it.  The whole assembly - even the diplomats
who really didn't get it, like Ambassador Delenn - felt free to enjoy
the joke now that its unwitting patsy had endorsed it with her own
laughter.
        "Oh," said Bacon, slapping his forehead, when the tumult had
died down a bit.  "We're forgetting something.  Mr. Garibaldi, if you
please?"
        Garibaldi wiped the tears from his eyes, waited out one last
chuckle, and then keyed his communicator.  "Garibaldi to
Pennsylvania."
        "Go ahead," replied a voice.
        "Hit it," said Garibaldi.

        From her station ten kilometers off the station's forward
docking port, IPS Pennsylvania released a pulse of mild subetheric
radiation from her deflector array, bathing the station in the
harmless energy for a quarter of a second.  When that happened, the
sophisticated new thermocoat applied by the station's maintenance
drones over the past week underwent a subtle and permanent chemical
change which altered its reflectivity slightly, causing the light
reflected by the dark-blue primary thermocoat sections to shift a
short distance up the electromagnetic spectrum.
        In short - the station turned purple.
        Utena Tenjou, watching it happen on the master monitor, was a
little puzzled by the wave of hilarity that this development sparked
anew in some of the onlookers - including Gryphon, who was nearly on
the floor, and several of the senior diplomatic staff, like Ambassador
Mollari.  The color shift even drew -applause- from some once they'd
recovered enough from their laughter.  Corwin was among those
applauding, and he was nearest, so Utena leaned over and admitted
quietly,
        "I don't get it."
        Corwin grinned at her, still clapping, and said simply,
"Babylon 4 was green."
        It took a couple of seconds for that to click through Utena's
mental gears, and then she too was nearly felled by her amusement,
hanging onto Corwin's shoulder to keep from falling, like she'd done
at her wedding reception when Saionji had busted out his Chu Chu
impression.

        It took a little while for order to be restored after Bacon
and Garibaldi's great coup, but eventually it was all squared away.
Garibaldi was installed as Major Kira's replacement at the security
desk, after which Gryphon took the podium again to make his second
announcement.
        "As most of you know, the first of the IPO Space Force's Next
Generation Destroyers has been operational for a week now.  Captain
Kira and her crew are on shakedown in the Vega Sector and report that
all is going well.  I'm now pleased to announce that the second
Defiant prototype is complete and ready for her shakedown cruise as
well, and should be joined by the first of the Kanzaki Steamrunners by
the end of next month.
        "With the second Defiant, we're going to be trying something a
little different," Gryphon went on, smiling with a quick,
conspiratorial glance at Utena.  "I've placed the the second prototype
under the auspices of the new IPO Space Force Irregular Projects
Division, where we're going to test a few theories regarding the
staffing and operational parameters of the DDNGs.
        "With that in mind," said the Fleet Captain with a broader
smile, "please allow me to introduce to you the first commander of
NX-06041, the International Police Starship Valiant - Captain Utena
Tenjou."
        As Utena had suspected there would be, there was another one
of those awkward quiet moments when she ascended the podium and
saluted Gryphon.  The Duelists and their friends applauded and
cheered, as did some of the B5 officers and security crew, but there
was a sort of chilly silence from the diplomatic corps for a few
moments as some of the less mentally adept ambassadors waited for the
revelation that this was another one of the IPO senior staff's weird
little jokes.
        Then Londo Mollari's delighted laughter cut the silence again,
and the Centauri ambassador rose to his feet, applauding ferociously.
A few seats down, Klingon Ambassador Zargh Thalekh got to his feet and
started applauding as well; though he wasn't laughing, the stonefaced
Klingon diplomat -was- looking faintly pleased, which was just as good
coming from him.  Around them, other ambassadors took their cues and
also rose to applaud; some were clearly grudging it, others did it as
a matter of form, and still others, Ambassador Delenn among them,
weren't quite sure what all the fuss was about.
        Utena accepted and read her orders (which were to take command
of the Valiant at B6 on that day's date, operational orders, to be
found in the captain's safe aboard ship, to be opened no later than
1700 hours the following day), then turned with the others to see the
main viewer switch to a view of her new ship.
        The Valiant was of the Defiant class, which meant that she was
a peculiar-looking little thing as Zeta Cygnan starships went.  The
class had actually been designed by a coalition of Zeta Cygnan,
Salusian and Corellian designers, led by Zefram Cochrane, Gryphon,
retired Salusian admiral Jan Dodonna, and the Corellian Engineering
Corporation.  As such, she combined the discus shape and brawny
thrusters common to CEC's small craft with a pair of
partially-embedded Zeta Cygnan warp engines and a weapons array that
would do a Salusian battlecruiser proud.  Gryphon, in one of the early
technical briefings he'd given the ship's new captain back in April,
had referred to the design proudly as "50 pounds of attitude in a
30-pound sack"; Zefram Cochrane, disregarding basic mathematics,
called it "50% engines, 50% shields, and 70% weapons."
        The Defiant class was tiny by modern warship standards, but
the hope was that her great speed, overbuilt armor and shield
structure, and stunning weapons load would enable her to hold her own
against much larger ships - and once more than two were operational,
along with the similar DDNG-2 "Steamrunner" class being developed at
the Kanzaki Heavy Industries yards at Ishiyama, swarm tactics might
prove very profitable indeed.
        But that was for the future; right now the designs themselves
had to be proven and tested, and that was what Utena and her friends
were going to do over the summer, with the help of Zefram Cochrane,
Klaang, and a few others more senior IPO personnel.  The more specific
orders Gryphon had promised must be waiting in the safe aboard, and
Utena was itching to know what they were; but the time limit was 5
o'clock tomorrow afternoon, and for now there was a reception to
attend in the "outdoors" area of the core habitation zone.
        That reception soon turned into an outright party, with all
those diplomatic personnel who didn't really want to be there excusing
themselves at the first possible opportunity and leaving those who
-did- free to have fun.  After dinner, the Art of Noise set up in a
modular half-shell constructed on the grass of the core zone's commons
area and played their first Babylon show, bringing rock and roll to
galactic diplomacy with the help of the Right Honorable Ambassador
from the Empire of Gamilon, who stepped into her old place for old
times' sake on several numbers in the first set.
        After that set, while the band stood in a little cluster off
to one the side, Kate chatting with Marty Rose and the Tenjous while
the others sipped drinks and compared notes on the show so far, they
noticed a sudden change in the buzz of the crowd around them.
Turning, they saw that a small group of people was taking to the
temporarily-vacated stage.  A couple of them - the young man with the
amplified gui-board, the two IPO Security officers, one with a bass,
the other wearing a set of kinetidrums - no one knew by name.  The guy
with the guitar and the two men in the front, though, were instantly
recognizable.
        The guitarist was Michael Garibaldi, looking gleeful.  One of
the frontmen was Captain Derek Bacon; the other was Kyouichi Saionji.
Both had slipped away and changed from their uniforms (Bacon's IPO,
Saionji's somewhat outdated Tenjou Academy Student Council) into
matching dark suits with white shirts; both wore fedora hats and
old-fashioned sunglasses.  The assembled crowd of diplomats, IPO
officers, and students gave a sort of rolling collective "huh?" at the
sight.
        Bacon marched up to the standing microphone usually used by
rhythm guitarist Miki Kaoru, folded his arms across his massive chest,
scowled intimidatingly out at the audience, and said in a commanding
voice:
        "Sing it with me!"
        Then he launched into a nonsensical, vaguely-tribal-sounding
lyrical line.  The fact that it was apparently nonsense kept the
audience from obeying his instruction the first time, but the second
time around, most of them got it.
        Halfway through the first time, Kaitlyn Hutchins and Martin
Rose disintegrated into helpless laughter, leaning against each other
to keep from sliding to the floor, while all around them the others
looked at the two in utter bafflement - except Fuu Hououji, who was
giggling in a more serene, controlled manner.
        "What's with them?" Utena wondered.
        Juri shrugged almost imperceptibly.  "Search me," she replied.
        When Bacon had finished leading the audience through the
nonsense lyrics the second time, he lapsed into silence, while behind
him and his green-haired, so-far-silent confederate, their impromptu
little band started up an ambling sort of beat, punctuated by silly
little riffs on the kinetidrums' cheap, tinny cymbal voices and a lot
of random, wanky noodling by Garibaldi.
        Then Saionji stepped up to Kate's freestanding microphone,
looked straight at Anthy, and declared in a firm voice, not even
trying to sing:
        "When we were in love, I pretended that you didn't exist.
That way, I loved you more."
        Anthy blinked, feeling Utena stiffen beside her.  Was Kyouichi
drunk?  Was this a manifestation of some suppressed resentment that
he'd given no inkling of since their reunion?  Or was it some kind of
oddball joke?
        "You suggested we get married and move into a house," Saionji
went on.  Behind Anthy, Kaitlyn and Marty howled, struggling to
remain vaguely upright.  Based on that, Anthy guessed "joke", a guess
which was reinforced as Saionji continued in a tone that dripped
thick, viscous sarcasm onto the floor,
        "-I- suggested that we jump overboard and live underwater in
the Lost City of Atlantis, where mermaids sing and tuxedoed dolphins
bring you breakfast!"
        Then, as Anthy and Utena both realized that it was all part of
a particularly weird song, relaxed, and smiled, he gave them a little
wink over his sunglasses and stopped speaking directly to Anthy,
declaiming in a more abstract, conversational sort of way,
        "One year later I was transferred to the Moon."
        "Worse pay - better hours!" Kate and Marty chorused behind the
Tenjous, matching Saionji's next line along with the somewhat-more-
controlled Fuu.
        Saionji nodded as if agreeing with them.  "I was transferred
to the Moon," he repeated.
        "Worse pay - better fellow workers!" said Kate, Marty and Fuu
along with him, and then two of them were much too far gone to
interfere any longer.
        "I built our love out of -blood-," Saionji continued.  "I went
to the dentist and told him, 'Take out my heart!'  I feel better than
James Brown," he insisted.  "I feel better now."
        Captain Bacon, who had stood exactly where he was looking
intimidating and doing nothing else, launched into the nonsense lyric
again.  Then the band noodled for a bit while Saionji paced the stage,
looking restless and irritated about something.  Kate and Marty got
themselves partly under control, subsiding to mere giggling, wiping at
their eyes and saying repetitively, "Oh my," before Saionji finally
came back to the microphone and announced,
        "I was attending Mardi Gras with Fidel Castro.  Buxom
cross-dressers threw fake gold coins at our feet as we discussed the
fate of the Revolution."
        So much for Kate and Marty.  This time Utena joined them, as
did Miki; they didn't know who the hell Fidel Castro was, but Miki in
particular was remembering a number of times up on the Student Council
balcony in which things easily that weird had happened to him and his
fellow Councilors as -they- discussed the fate of the Revolution.
        "Suddenly," Saionji went on, "CIA men dressed in bikinis tried
to stab us with fountain pens.  Fidel blew mustard gas through his
cigar - "
        " - and immobilized the lot of them!" Marty and Kaitlyn choked
out along with him (and Fuu) between sobs of laughter.
        "Nineteen tequilas later, we had a deal," Saionji intoned,
nodding significantly.  "Cephiro goes back to the Mob - " (here, Kate's
last reserves of strength failed her and she slid, a completely
helpless mass of hilarity, to the floor) " - and Fidel and I open up a
chain of Kentucky Fried Chicken shops.  Ain't life sweet.  I feel
-good-.  I feel better than James Brown.  I feel better now.  I feel
better than James Brown!  I feel better now.  How do -you- feel?"
        Bacon sang the nonsense again, and this time everybody else in
the room was on the right page; the band noodled more or less at
random for another minute, Saionji reiterated that he felt better than
James Brown a couple of times, and then he asked once more, "How do
-you- feel?" (once again looking straight at Anthy, a sardonic grin on
his face) before the lights went out and the band fell apart into a
whine of microamp feedback.
        "... What the heck was -that-?" Utena asked no one in
particular, between fits of giggling and over the desultory
whimperings of Kate and Marty, who could barely move.
        "A traditional Funkotroni song," said Fuu as she smilingly
cleaned her glasses.  "My people sing it, with variations and
embellishments, every year when we commemorate the birth of the
Godfather of Soul."
        Utena blinked.  "Uh... OK, yeah," she said.
        Serge didn't seem to approve of Kaitlyn's current state (lying
on the floor, tears streaking her face, making little mewling hiccup-
laugh noises).  With a worried look on his face, he prodded at her
cheek with his nose, making little grumbling noises of concern.
        Of course, that didn't help much.  Unable to laugh any more,
Kate merely burbled, trying ineffectually to fend him off with arms
that had lost their strength.
        Anthy took hold of his collar and eased him back a little,
leaning down to murmur to him, "Serge, dear, I don't think that's
helping."
        Serge looked back over his shoulder at her with a "well, what
do -you- think I should do?" sort of look; Anthy smiled and told him,
"You see, she won't get up until she can breathe again."
        "And that's easier to do without a tiger snout in her face,"
added Utena, ruffling the tiger's ears.  "Don't worry, she'll be fine
in a minute."
        The tiger didn't seem convinced, but he subsided all the same,
stationing himself next to his stricken mistress and not budging
until, finally, Kate was able to sit up, then climb to her feet,
wiping at her face with the back of one hand and still giggling.
        Marty Rose got unsteadily to his feet as well, holding one arm
over his middle, and whimpered, "Yessirree... nothing stirs the soul
quite like a good old-fashioned Funkotroni holiday carol."
        Eventually, Kate recovered enough to stand up; she stood,
scratching her tiger's head reassuringly, and pulled herself together
for a few seconds while Juri cleaned the tear-salt from her glasses
and replaced them, then said,
        "O-k-k-K, you g-guys.  You kn-know w-w-what this means... "
        "We're playing the New Saionji Song?" asked Azalynn eagerly.
        "You b-b-bet."
        "Yay!"
        The band went and reclaimed their stage from Bacon, Saionji,
and their confederates, pretending to be offended at the implied snub
of having been replaced.  Kate gave Saionji, in particular, a rather
cool look as he left the stage; Anthy ushered him into position
between herself and Utena as Kate adjusted her microphone and keyboard
setup and then looked out at him again.
        "This is an old song we've rewritten a little bit for our
friend Kyouichi," said Azalynn gleefully, "who seems to be more
talented than we ever imagined!"
        Kate smiled and started playing a kind of loungy vibraphone
line on her main keyboard, accompanied by some rather cheesy cymbal
action from Dorothy and an ambling bassline by Moose.  Almost
immediately she began to sing in a soft voice:

"Down, down, down you go
No way to stop
As you fall, hear me call:
No, no, no
Listen to this warning and
Consider these
Simple words of advice:
Stop, stop, stop"

        The band filled steadily in behind her as she gave them the
first chorus, with backing lines provided by Azalynn and Miki:

"Fogging the view, cupping face to the window
In darkness you make out the End of the World
Putting all reason aside you exchange what you've got
For a thing that's hypnotic and strange

The End of the World will make you go insane
(Everyone wants to see that groovy thing)
But everyone wants to see that groovy thing
(Everyone wants to see that thing)
And nobody knows what it's really like
But everyone says it's great
And they heard it from the Deputy Chairman... "

        Saionji had started off looking bemused, then amused, and now
he was holding back snickers.  Most of the audience completely failed
to understand the song - a very few of them knew the original, a
twentieth-century Earth song about something called a "spiraling
shape", whatever that was, but even they didn't understand what the
hell the rewrite was supposed to mean.
        Saionji did, though, as did Utena, and Anthy, and Juri and
Wakaba and Kozue, and Miki up on stage, unable to keep the mocking
grin off his face as he backed Azalynn's line into the more
rock-oriented line of the second verse:

"This could lead to excellence
Or serious injury
Only one way to know:
Go, go, go
Go ahead, wreck your life
That might be good
Who can say what's wrong or right?
Nobody can"

        They swung into the chorus with more energy this time, and
Kate sang with more passion - straight-faced, as if this song wasn't
completely bizarre and absurd:

"Put out your hands and you fall through the window
And clawing at nothing you drop through the void
Your terrified screams are inaudible
Drowned in the engine that runs round the End of the World

The End of the World will make you go insane
(Everyone wants to see that groovy thing)
But everyone wants to see that groovy thing
(Everyone wants to see that thing)"

        Dorothy slammed down a short fill and drove the song straight
into a hard-rock mode, the singers' voices forming a tight harmony
with Kate's as the band plunged on without a pause:

"And now that you've tried it you're back to report
That the End of the World was a fraud and a fake
You didn't enjoy it, you never believed it
There won't be a refund, you'll never go back!

The End of the World will make you go insane
(Everyone wants to see that groovy thing)
But everyone wants to see that groovy thing
(Everyone wants to see that thing)
And nobody knows what it's really like
But everyone says it's great
And they heard it from the Deputy Chairman
(Deputy Chairman)

Fogging the view cupping face to the window
In darkness you make out the End of the World
Putting all reason aside you exchange what you've got
For a thing that's hypnotic and strange
The End of the World will make you go insane
(Everyone wants to see that groovy thing)
But everyone wants to see that groovy thing
(Everyone wants to see that thing)

Don't spend the rest of your life wondering!
(Everyone wants to see that thing!)
Don't spend the rest of your life wondering!
(Everyone wants to see that groovy thing!)
Don't spend the rest of your life wondering!
(Everyone wants to see that thing!)"

        The last word and the last guitar chord sustained and then
wavered off into silence again, and the Art of Noise found themselves
confronted by the uneasy quiet of an audience that Just Didn't Get It.
        Except for the Cephirean contingent in the front, who were
almost beside themselves with amusement.
        It struck Utena, as she leaned, convulsed with laughter,
against Saionji's shoulder and thumped his chest feebly with a fist,
that there was something rather cathartic about this.  When Kate had
floated the idea of rewriting the old song to be a kind of joke about
the ordeal they'd all gone through at Akio Ohtori's hands, she'd been
dubious about the humor value; after all, -nothing- about that bastard
had been funny.  Kate had assured her that it would never be played
until the inevitable happy ending - Kate was a great believer, like
Aunt Bell, in Things Working Out, and indeed it seemed they had - had
come to pass, and that at that point, with all well, Utena -would- see
the humor in it, in thumbing their collective noses musically at the
manipulations and deceit of the Deputy Chairman, through which they
had come with minds and spirits intact despite his best (or worst)
efforts.
        Kate hadn't said all that in so many words, of course, but it
had been in her mind, and she'd conveyed it to Utena without having to
spell it out.  Utena had still been somewhat skeptical.
        But damned if Kate wasn't right.
        There, you son of a bitch, she said silently to the departed
shade of the Deputy Chairman.  What do you think about that?  You're
so pathetic you're -funny-.  Hah!  A fraud and a fake... 
        Kate appeased the confused majority of her audience with "To
Be Alive Again", getting things back on a more serious rock footing,
and successfully reconnected, after which it was all gravy.

        That night, after the concert, the Duelists and musicians were
transported to the Valiant and got themselves squared away in their
new quarters.  The ship, for all its relatively small size, was quite
comfortable, with plenty of room for its light crew.  The
accommodations were not, perhaps, as palatial (if you'll pardon the
term) as those of the Duelists' Castle, but they were spacious for
staterooms on a warship, and nicely appointed.  Nobody thought they
would have any difficulty at all making do with them for the summer.
        While Anthy unpacked their things in the captain's cabin,
Utena opened her safe, read her orders, and then laughed quietly to
herself for a few moments before handing the paper to Anthy, then
going to the intercom panel and puzzling out how to call Kate.  Kate
came down the hall to Utena's room, read the orders herself, and
laughed too, looking quite impressed.
        Shortly, the ship's company, many of them dressed for bed,
were assembled in the main dining room on deck 2 forward, to hear
their new captain give them their operational orders.
        "Ladies and gentlemen," said Utena with a self-consciously
pompous air, "it is my distinct pleasure to relate to you our
operational orders as passed down from IPO Space Force Central
Command."  Then she folded up the paper, put it down, and grinned at
them a lot more naturally.  "This is the big time, kids.  First stop
Ishiyama, to pick up the last two members of our crew, and then we're
gone - the Art of Noise is going on a thirty-world galactic tour this
summer, and we're driving the bus!"
        Cheers and applause all out of proportion to the small size of
the gathering - less than two dozen people - filled the room.  In the
center, the small group of musicians looked at each other, stunned.
Except for Kate, who had just learned a few minutes before the
assembly, they hadn't known.  Some, in fact, had started to wonder,
while unpacking their things for the journey, if coming along had
really been the best idea, wonder what they were going to -do- on this
ship for three months while Utena and the more technically-minded
types thrashed the bugs out of it.
        Now they had their answer, and they were universally thrilled.
        Kate turned to Juri, who was smiling her piper's smile of
private entertainment and satisfaction, and said, "Th-th-THIS is
w-w-what you've b-b-been working on for the p-past m-m-month?"
        Juri smiled a little more broadly and nodded.  "You -did- make
me your manager," she pointed out, emerald eyes twinkling.
        "That's... th-that's... "
        "Incredible!" said Azalynn, launching herself into a hanging
hug from the neck of the significantly taller Duelist.  "You're the
-best-, Juri!  This is going to be the best summer -ever-!"
        "Well," said Juri with considerable aplomb, "I'm glad you
think so, Azalynn."
        Moose MacEchearn, looking over the list of tour dates Utena
had just passed around, ran a hand over his bald pate in
astonishment.  "The HeavyHeavy again... clubs on Salusia, Tomodachi,
Qo'noS, the Outer Rim, New Avalon... the MegaTokyo -Dome-... SNEAKY
DEE'S?!  How's THAT going to work?"
        "It may take a bit of diplomacy on the part of our illustrious
captain," said Juri calmly, "but the legalities are perfectly clear.
None of us is wanted by the Earth Alliance... "
        "In -any- sense of the word," murmured Dorothy wryly.
        "... so they can neither arrest us, nor bar us entry if we come
on an IPO ship," Juri went on, undaunted, "and the situation has
cooled considerably over the past year.  Unless, of course, you all
think it's too risky.  In that case, I can call Dimitrios and cancel
our engagement.  I'm sure he'd understand."
        The way she said it was a clear challenge, but made with
tongue in cheek, and the band knew it and responded accordingly.
        "Hell with it," said Moose, grinning.  "I'm game."
        "As am I," Dorothy said, nodding.  "Now that my Turing
certification is secure, they cannot touch me."
        "Without Devlin along, our only concern as far as the Psi
Corps is concerned is Liza."
        Liza Shustal snorted.  "Bring 'em on," she said.  "They might
have been willing to trifle with what I was, but they won't dare touch
what I've become," she added with a nasty grin.
        "The Psi Corps know better than to cross a t'skrang Great
House," agreed T'skaia, who, being a t'skrang and a member of a Great
House, ought to know.  "Lishustai's connections to the Ishkarat
aropagoi will keep her safe - as will her status as a head of state!"
he reminded them, his jaw opening and tail thumping the floor in a
silent t'skrang laugh.
        So it was agreed, and the ship's company filtered off to final
evening duties and their beds full of glee and anticipation for the
journey to come.

     /*  Cutting Crew  "One for the Mockingbird"  _Broadcast_  */

Eyrie Productions, Unlimited            I have learned through all my
presented                                 past mistakes
UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES                   Not to let the hurdless sap my energy
FUTURE IMPERFECT                        Time will tell and time is all it
 - Symphony of the Sword No. 3 -          takes
First Movement: Ad Astra                You won't see the bastards knock
                                          the running out of me
The Cast
(in order of appearance)                And the band
Utena Tenjou                            They played one more song
Skuld Ravenhair                         One for the mockingbird
Corwin Ravenhair                        They played one more song
Anthy Tenjou                            All the tears
Chu Chu                                 They fell one by one
Kaitlyn Hutchins                        All for the mockingbird
Sergei                                  They fell one by one
Zach Stephens
Kozue Kaoru                             Don't be fooled by those who feed
Kyouichi Saionji                          you words
Tom Palmer                              They just twist and tighten up
Shiori Takatsuki                          the tourniquet
Keiko Sonoda                            But the sweetest song of all the
Mitsuru Tsuwabuki                         mockingbirds
Urd Snowmane                            Couldn't hope to match one note of
Arthur Haineley                           any song we played
Miki Kaoru
Juri Arisugawa                          And the band
Verthandi Wishbringer Morisato          They played one more song
Rai Katagiri                            One for the mockingbird
Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV      They played one more song
Ein                                     And the dreams
Wakaba Shinohara                        They broke one by one
Mia Ausa                                All for the mockingbird
Master Smith Presea                     They broke one by one
Master Mage Clef
G'Kron                                  Ooh
Clarissa Broadbank                      What are you hiding from?
Janice Barlow                           Ooh
Hikaru Shidou                           Why do you lock the door?
Fuu Hououji                             Open up the door
Uum'y R'yuu-z'ky
Nall Silverclaw                         And the band
R. Dorothy Wayneright                   They played one more song
Peril                                   One for the mockingbird
Harcourt M. McKenzie                    They played one more song
Elizabeth R'tas Shustal                 All the dreams
Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan                 They broke one by one
Beld Marmo                              All for the mockingbird
Benjamin D. Hutchins                    They broke one by one
Susan Ivanova
T'Vek                                   I have learned
Derek Bacon                             Time will tell
Michael Garibaldi                       Years will pass
The Hon. J. Maurice MacEchearn IV       Tears will fall
T'skaia Vorokoshiga'ar                   Don't be fooled
  Ixtixtaaqitl't'chl'Vraihelt Ishkarat  Fed by words
special guests                          Their sweet songs
The Babylon 5 Diplomatic Corps          Mockingbirds...

                            Fleet Captain
                         Benjamin D. Hutchins

                           Janice Barlow by
                            Janice Barlow

                         Letters from Home by
                             Pearson Mui

                        Mac McKenzie's Manager
                           Kris Overstreet

                         Logistics and Supply
                              Anne Cross

                          Graphics Director
                            John Trussell

                             Fiddly bits
                          The Usual Suspects

                    "Epiphany" by Graffin/Gurewitz

                   "I Feel Better than James Brown"
                           by Was (Not Was)

                 "The End of the World" adapted from
                   "Spiraling Shape" by They Might
                              Be Giants

                       The Symphony will return