[AUTHOR'S NOTE: A bagatelle is a short piece of classical music
not connected thematically with anything else.  The name comes from
the Italian "bagatella", meaning a small thing of no consequence.  One
hopes the items presented here have consequence, but they are short
and unconnected, hence the name.  It's a bit of an experiment.  We
hope you enjoy it.  --G., 2003.10.22]


                I have a message from another time...

                     Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
                               presents

                UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT
                      - SYMPHONY OF THE SWORD No. 4 -

               Five Bagatelles in Various Keys, Op. 49

                         Benjamin D. Hutchins
                          with Janice Barlow
                              Anne Cross

                (c) 2003 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited


                      BAGATELLE No. 1 in D MINOR

                       THURSDAY, JULY 23, 2409
                               10:17 AM
                             IPS VALIANT
                         IN ORBIT AT JEZEBEL

        Corwin Ravenhair was in his office, basically just goofing
off, when the phone on his desk rang with an outside call.  With an
effort, he tore himself away from his game of Arkanoid and answered
it.
        The voice at the other end delivered a crisp, succinct
message, then hung up before he could ask any questions.
        Corwin sat looking at the handset for a few seconds, then
slammed it into its cradle and left his office.  A minute later he was
in the transporter room, and shortly thereafter he was striding
fretfully through the resort, searching.
        He found his target lounging by the pool, reading a book.
Normally he'd have paused for a second or two, just to take in the
view, but now he was too agitated to bother.
        Utena Tenjou noticed him approaching out of the corner of her
eye, put down her book, and said, "You're kind of overdressed," before
noticing that he looked distinctly upset.  "What's the matter?"
        "I just got a call from Frey Lightwalker," said Corwin through
his teeth.
        "Uh-oh," said Utena.  She sat up, ratcheting the variable
angle of her chaise longue to a more upright setting, and put her
elbows on her knees.  "What's his problem?"
        "He told me the Aesir Council have declared a state of
emergency because of what happened to Kei - she was one of the key
players at the Ragnarok, one of the ones who attacked Surtur directly,
and they suspect that her disappearance is the opening move in a new
policy for the Pit - more open aggression, maybe even another war."
        "OK," said Utena, nodding.  "Why do you look so hacked off,
then?  That's a reasonable thing to suspect, or at least look into."
        "A Class A celestial emergency is no small thing," Corwin
replied.  "You don't declare one based on a -suspicion-; you declare
one when the Legions of Flame are at the freaking city gates.  Dammit!
He's just doing this to bust my chops."
        "Doing what?  Corwin, I don't get it.  Why are you so upset?"
        For a moment, Corwin looked like he might snap at her; then he
controlled himself visibly and said in a quieter voice, "That's
right... you don't know how the system works."  He crouched down by
the chaise so as to be on more of a level with her and said, "When the
Council declare an 'A' emergency, they recall all divinities except
the Norns to Asgard.  I... have to leave."
        Utena's face fell.  "Oh," she said quietly.  "When... when
will you be back?"
        "I don't know," Corwin replied.  "The last time they did this
was for the Giant Wars when I was a kid, a few years after the
Ragnarok.  That one lasted for 18 months."
        Utena blinked in horror.  "Eighteen MONTHS?" she blurted.
"But that - you'd miss - "  She stopped herself, her fists clenching,
and then said in a more controlled, more -angry- voice, "This isn't
right.  Kate's already lost her mother, and for a while her father,
-and- she's already short a brother.  It's not -right-."
        "I know," said Corwin, nodding sadly.  "You know Frey's never
forgiven me for opening the Tenth World.  I'm sure he lobbied for a
Class A knowing this would happen... and I'm sure he'll make it drag
on for as long as he possibly can, too."
        Utena gave a long, disconsolate sigh.  "When are you leaving?"
        "As soon as I can.  Just to make things as inconvenient as
possible, I'm sure, he's made sure that the full security protocol is
in force, which means I'm not to use magic before I get back to
Asgard; which means that instead of just opening a gate, I have to get
back to New Avalon, get the One-Hit Wonder, and cross over by way of
Enigma X-21."
        Utena made a disgusted ticking sound.  "He's really going out
of his way," she said.
        "I don't know what the hell happened to him," said Corwin
resignedly.  "They tell me he used to be an all-right kind of guy,
back before my time.  Hung around with Thor a lot.  He's always been a
little too fond of himself - Lord of the Vanir and all that - but... "
He sighed, raking his hands through his thick black hair, and shook
his head.  "Balder nearly getting killed in Cephiro scared the hell
out of him.  He's not rational where the Tenth World is concerned."
        "I'll give him a reason to fear Cephiro," Utena growled,
thumping a fist into the opposite palm.  When Corwin glanced up
sharply, about to remonstrate with her, she gave him a sad grin that
told him she was only joking darkly, then blew out another long breath
and said, "I... guess you'd better tell the others."
        Corwin nodded sadly.  "Yeah.  Where's Anthy?"

        Anthy was just coming back to the resort from a walk along the
coastal trail, a footpath which led up along the ridgeline to the
chalky cliffs which overlooked the sea at the back of the resort
grounds.  She was looking windblown and pleased as she descended the
ridge, her long violet hair untamed and her white sundress rumpled by
the sea breezes she'd met along the cliffside.  Corwin felt a dull
ache at the sight of her, knowing that he was about to destroy that
carefree pleasure.
        She took the news with her usual quiet equanimity, for Anthy
Tenjou was never one to raise a fuss; but he could tell that she
didn't like it, didn't like it one bit.  She contained her distress
because she knew that Corwin was already upset enough, and she didn't
wish to add to his burden - though when he said he didn't know when he
would be back, and that it was possible that it might not be for a
year or more, her dismay was hard to hide.
        He knew it was there anyway, and his voice was charged with
emotion as he took her by the shoulders and said, "Listen - I will be
with you when our child is born.  All right?"
        She tried to cut him off, protest that he shouldn't make such
an unwise promise, but he overrode her, his eyes bright.  "No, I know
it might be tough, but dammit, I'm not going to miss that.  What kind
of a man would I be if I did?  No, you get word to me and I'll be
there, whatever it takes.  Promise me you won't try to stop me, won't
leave me uninformed."
        "Corwin, I - "
        "Promise me," he repeated, looking her in the eyes.
        Anthy looked back at him, knowing she shouldn't say it, and
then looked down and said, "I promise."
        Corwin smiled and pulled her into an embrace.  "Don't worry
about me," he said.  "It'll all work out.  I'll probably be back
before then anyway."
        "I hope so," said Anthy quietly.

        Though, in his agitation, he failed to think of it, Corwin
wasn't the only one on the Valiant receiving bad news.
        Gunnr Brynjelfr didn't rate a personal phone call from the
Lord of the Vanir; instead, she got a page from Valkyrie HQ telling
her to pack her gear and be ready for extraction at 1700.
        She called it in, of course - an instruction like that was no
more welcome to her than it was to Corwin - but the confirmation was
quick and to the point, and, as a professional soldier, Gunnr had no
thought of disobeying.  She objected, sure - in her phone conversation
with Skjoldr Sunracer, who was on dispatch duty that day, she
classified the whole exercise as "horseshit" - but disobeying a direct
order?  No.
        She packed quickly and efficiently, squaring her relatively
few belongings away in minutes.  Then she sat in frowning thought for
a few minutes before rummaging in her duffel and removing a small
object.
        It was a little grey stone vial about the size of the first
joint of her thumb, capped with a cork stopper and wrapped up in
silk.  She unwrapped it, sat regarding it for a minute, and then
yanked out the stopper and tossed back the contents with an angry
backward jerk of her head.

        Corwin found his half-sister Kaitlyn stretched out on a divan
in the large room of the main resort building which the maps of the
complex referred to as the "salon".  In the building's previous life
as a Cardassian military intelligence outpost, the salon had been a
sort of gymnasium-cum-firing-range, a large, open space with durable
walls and floor, for use in the honing of combat skills.
        As part of the Jezebel Resort, it had been converted into
something like the main room in the Duelists' Castle on Jeraddo, which
made it still a kind of dojo, but now elegant and pretty.  Liza's
crews had removed the old ceiling, which had been high but flat and
plain, and replaced it with a soaring vaulted affair that brought to
mind a cathedral, with a lot of skylights in it that flooded the room
with sunlight on clear days.
        The walls had been decorated with some tastefully chosen
paintings, mostly landscapes, and the floor sported a decorative
mosaic in the shape of the Tenjou Academy rose seal, which was also
the sigil of the Order of the Rose and thus the Duelists' Society.  At
one end of the room there were a couple of billiard tables;
comfortable furniture like the divan Kate occupied was scattered
around the periphery.  The other end of the room was dominated (and
the room was given an even greater resemblance to a cathedral) by a
huge pipe organ, installed at Liza's behest as a surprise for Kaitlyn
on Kate's eighteenth birthday.
        Now the brown-haired girl lounged on the divan, one knee bent,
with a music notebook propped on that knee.  She was humming softly to
herself and fleshing out a song idea that had popped into her head
some nights previous at the Hellfire Club in New Avalon.
        Corwin put his head in at the door, looked around, then
crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the divan.
        She noticed his downcast expression, put down her notebook,
and asked him what was wrong.  He told her.
        Her reaction was to ask a single question:
        "W-will it b-b-be d-dangerous?"
        Corwin shook his head.  "No," he said.  "It'll be a bunch of
Council sessions.  I'm sure they'll want a lot of reports from me,
since I'm one of the only Aesir to live full-time in Midgard."  He
sighed.  "In a way, I wish it -was- a battle of some kind.  At least
that way I wouldn't be so acutely aware that it's all just Frey trying
to ruin my life."
        "Then it w-will be d-d-dangerous," Kate said.  "P-politically,
I mean.  Corwin, be c-careful.  D-don't let him bait you into d-doing
something f-f-foolish."
        Corwin smiled, a little wanly.  "I'll be discretion itself,"
he said.  "He won't even know he's gotten my goat.  I wouldn't give
him the satisfaction."
        Kate gave him a slightly sad smile and hugged him.  "C-come
back as soon as you c-can."
        "Count on it," he said, returning the hug.

        Anne Cross, the novice samurai called Juniper, was, like
Utena, near water, though in her case it was not the civilized expanse
of the resort's pool but its rather more vigorous southern beach.
        Anne did not approve of calm beaches - one might as well just
lie down in a sand pit, it accomplished much the same thing - but a
beach with some good wave action, now -that- she could have some fun
with.  She wasn't so much swimming as bodysurfing when she noticed
someone else walking across the beach toward the spot where she'd left
her towel, bag, and bokuto.
        Emerging from the surf, the trainee samurai padded across the
sun-heated sand to find Gunnr standing next to her towel.
        The Valkyrie looked like she always looked, dressed in her
usual snug, dark-colored, sleeveless mock-turtleneck top and cargo
pants; she was barefoot, carrying her boots in one hand.  Anne skipped
over all those details without really noticing them, since they were
typical; most of her attention went to Gunnr's eyes, which looked
more-than-usually sad.
        For her part, Gunnr stood with a wistful little half-smile
playing at her lips and watched Anne cross the beach toward her.  Hard
training and good eating had turned the scrawny creature Saionji had
rescued from the streets of Carida - Gunnr had seen pictures - into a
trim, athletic young woman, and Gunnr delighted in watching her fight,
or work, or just walk.
        The younger girl's current wardrobe was good for that, too.
Anne's swimsuit was black with a rippling aurora-borealis pattern of
blues, aquas, fuchsias and yellows that drifted from one hip to the
opposite shoulder.  It was one of those racing suits that was
absolutely skintight but still comfortable, with straps that buckled
together between her shoulder blades so that they wouldn't slip off in
a dive.  It was a bit bland compared to some of the other costumes
that had graced this very beach over the years, but it looked just
fine to Gunnr... and that made this whole exercise just a little bit
harder.
        Hard or not, Gunnr didn't try to sugar-coat it; she respected
Anne too much to do that.  Instead, she laid it all out bluntly, like
the soldier she was: she'd been recalled to Asgard, and she didn't
know when she was going to be back.
        Anne took the news well, Gunnr thought; she looked initially
disbelieving, then upset, and then visibly bore up.  She was, Gunnr
reflected, used to being knocked around by life; this was another
unfortunate reversal, and while she was giving it its full value, she
was aware that it wasn't the end of the world.
        "When do you have to leave?" she asked.
        "1700," Gunnr said.  "They're sending someone to get me.
Corwin's not so lucky," she added wryly.  "He's a fully qualified
divinity; the restrictions on them in a declared emergency are a lot
tighter.  He has to get back the -long- way."
        Anne could, perhaps, be excused for not really giving a damn
about Corwin's problems right now.  She looked thoughtful, calculating
in her head, and then said, "So... we've got... about four hours."
        "About," Gunnr agreed.  She ran a hand over Anne's head and
grimaced.  "Why don't you wear a bathing cap?" she asked.
        "I've got too much hair for that," Anne replied.
        "Well, you're going to have to wash all this salt out before
it sets," Gunnr observed.  Then she smiled tentatively, not sure how
this would be received under the circumstances, and added, "I could
give you a hand with that."
        Anne shook her head slowly, still looking thoughtful, and
replied, "I can shower quick... and then we could just go for a long
walk... and... "  She suddenly noticed that something was different
about Gunnr, and immediately felt a bit silly for not having noticed
it before.  It wasn't as if a pair of full elven ears were easy to
miss, but Anne had been preoccupied.
        "... you put your ears back!" she blurted.  " Um..."  She gave
a weak smile, and then amended her previous statement: "And find some
place where there'll be less sand to get in inconvenient places."

        Anthy found Utena at the archery range, displaying the kind of
rotten performance which instantly indicated to her wife that she had
a lot on her mind.  It didn't take a lot of Anthy's considerable
mental agility to figure out what the biggest problem was.
        "I see you've heard," she observed quietly.
        "He found me first," Utena replied, then missed the entire
target, sighed, put down her bow, and said, "Dammit.  It isn't right."
        "No," Anthy said, "it isn't... but there isn't much we can do
about it."
        "That makes me feel worse," Utena grumbled.
        "I know it does," Anthy said gently.  "Who better?"
        "You're awfully calm about it," Utena said in a tone just
short of accusation.  "He's probably going to miss... that," she added
awkwardly, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Anthy's midriff.
        Anthy shook her head.  "No, he isn't.  He made me promise to
tell him when the time was at hand, and in turn he promised to be
there, whatever it takes."
        Utena's eyes widened.  "Holy - !" she blurted.  "Anthy, you
shouldn't have done that!  You know the lengths Corwin will go to in
order to fulfil a promise like that.  He could... God, he could do
almost anything!  Defy the Council, break the law... I think... I
think he'd even give up his divinity if that was what it took."
        Anthy nodded.  "I know," she said.  "Don't worry, it won't
come to that.  I have a contingency plan."
        Utena gave her a curious look, then took off her glove and arm
protector, put the equipment away, and went out into the grassy park
next to the range to have a seat on one of the stone benches.
        "So," she said, pulling up a leg and resting her chin on her
knee as Anthy sat down beside her.  "Tell me this plan."
        Anthy smiled.  "He promised to be with me when our child is
born," she said calmly.  "He didn't mention any specific place... so
when the time comes, I will go to Asgard."
        Utena blinked.  "How?  You can get to Cephiro on your own, but
how will you get to Asgard?  There's no direct route."
        "Oh," said Anthy airily, "I'm sure Skuld and her sisters will
be happy to help."
        Utena thought about that for a second.  "Of course," she
said.  "The Norns aren't recalled... I should have thought of that
myself."  She gave her wife an admiring grin.  "Anthy, that's
brilliant."
        If she noticed the implied contradiction in Utena's last two
statements, Anthy was graceful enough not to do so visibly.  She
merely smiled again and said, "Protecting the two of you from your own
nobility is part of my job."
        Utena chuckled.  "What -would- we do without you?" she asked
rhetorically.  Then she got to her feet and said, "Come on - let's go
get something to eat."
        Anthy tactfully neglected to mention that she had a reasonably
good idea what they would do without her.

        At a little before five, Gunnr Brynjelfr stood in her
stateroom aboard the Valiant, taking stock.  Everything seemed to be
squared away.  She slung her duffel bag on her shoulder, took a final
count of the weapons in her gun case, and was about to close the case
when the connecting door to the bathroom opened behind her.
        "Ready to go?" asked Anne softly.  She still wore her walking
clothes, simple and sturdy, and her hair was free, having dried out
while they were walking.
        Just stay right there, thought Gunnr, looking at the girl
framed in the doorway.  I want to remember you just like that.
        "Looks that way," was what she said out loud.
        Juniper seemed to remember something; then she said, "Oh,
here... I have that gun you lent me," removed the item from the
small-of-the-back holster she carried it in, unloaded it, and made to
hand it over.
        Gunnr closed her hand over the antique Colt .32 automatic and
pushed it back at the younger girl.
        "Keep it," she said, and then, smiling, added, "To remember me
by."
        Anne looked a bit more downcast.  "I don't have anything to
give you," she said sadly.
        Gunnr grinned.  "That's OK," she said.  "I don't think I'll
forget you."
        "I -know- I won't forget you," Anne replied.  "Not unless my
memories get scrambled somehow."
        "Well, then keep it to help you prevent that from happening,"
said Gunnr, and pushed the gun back again.
        Anne looked down at the weapon, took a deep breath, and said,
"Right."  Then she took back the .32, loaded it again, set the safety,
and tucked it away before throwing her arms around the elven Valkyrie.
        "I wish you didn't have to go," she whispered, "but I
understand you do."
        "Thanks for that," Gunnr replied, returning the embrace.  "I
wish I didn't have to go too."
        Gunnr's watch chimed the hour.  A moment later, the bathroom
door opened again, but this time what lay beyond it was not the
bathroom.  Instead, what was visible behind the person standing in the
doorway was the flagstoned vastness of the Valkyrie Hall in Asgard.
        Anne blinked, impressed in spite of herself.  The woman in the
doorway was very tall, with heavy, straight platinum-blonde hair drawn
back into a ponytail that reached nearly to her knees and one of the
most beautiful faces Juniper had ever seen.  She was dressed in a
razor-creased black uniform that made her more than a little
forbidding, complete with a peaked cap and jackboots, but the way she
wore them made the outfit look less corny than it otherwise would
have.
        Gunnr took a half-step back, came to attention, and saluted.
Anne, not knowing quite what to do, settled for composing herself into
a sort of dojo respectfulness and bowing.
        The woman in black returned Gunnr's salute, and then, somewhat
to Anne's surprise, returned her bow as well.  Then she smiled - a
dazzling white-toothed smile, the kind that could light up a room -
and said in a soft voice,
        "You must be Juniper.  I'm Brunnhilde Silverspear, adjutant to
General Ravenhair."
        It took Anne a moment to put together the fact that Brunnhilde
was referring to Skuld, Corwin's mother.  She still hadn't quite fully
grasped the fact that Corwin was a genuine divinity, the son of a very
powerful goddess.  To Juni, as to the rest of the Valiant's company,
they tended to be just... Corwin and his mom.
        "Uh... I'm very pleased to meet you," said Anne after a
moment's dumbfounded reflection.
        Brunnhilde's smile took on an ironic cast.  "I rather doubt
that," she said without rancor, "given that I've come to take your
sweetheart away from you.  If it's any consolation, I hate to do it.
There's been enough sadness and parting in your camp of late - but the
laws of Asgard are clear, and I must follow them."
        "I... thank you.  I appreciate that."
        Brunnhilde nodded and turned to Gunnr.  "Are you ready?" she
asked.
        "As much as I can be," Gunnr replied.  "Can I have a minute?"
        "Certainly," Brunnhilde replied.  "It was good to meet you,
Miss Cross," she added to Anne, "though I would have preferred to do
so under less trying circumstances."
        Anne returned the sentiment as best she could, and then
Brunnhilde went back through the door and left her alone with Gunnr.
        "Well," said the elven Valkyrie practically, "I guess this is
it.  Listen... take care of yourself, OK?   I don't know who they'll
get to look after you now that I'm leaving, but I'm sure Kaitlyn has
something in mind.  And... "  She hesitated.  "... If you... you know,
meet somebody?  I understand.  These things happen.  OK?"
        Anne fought back some grand pronouncement of fidelity; it
wouldn't suit the moment, and anyway, Gunnr was right.
        Instead, she just gave her one last hug and let her go.
        "See you again sometime," Gunnr said with a brave attempt at a
grin.  Then she bent down and kissed Anne softly.  "It's been fun."
        "Yeah," said Anne; then Gunnr picked up her case, and, with a
last backward look and a wink, she was gone.  The bathroom door shut
behind her, and when, driven by a sort of morbid curiosity, Anne
stepped in front of it and made it open again, it led to the bathroom
again.
        Anne looked around the empty stateroom.  Gunnr had traveled
light to begin with, so with her few possessions rounded up and
removed, it was as if she'd never been there at all.
        The young samurai reached behind her back and drew her .32
again, read the runic inscription on its slide, then sighed, holstered
it, and left the room.

        Corwin roamed around the resort for much of the day, saying to
everyone else in the Valiant's company basically the same stuff he'd
said to Utena.  It was tiring, dispiriting work, and he was unable to
find one of the people he felt really ought to have the news straight
from him.  It was, thus, in a particularly black frame of mind that he
returned to the Valiant to start packing his things at about six in
the evening.
        He had just about everything stuffed into a duffel bag when
the door to his cabin opened and Kozue Kaoru entered, looking subdued.
        "Hi," she said, and she didn't seem surprised that he was
packing.
        "Hi," he replied, turning away from the bag.  "So, uh... you
heard, huh."
        Kozue nodded.  "Anthy told me," she said.  "I was caving on
the south ridge," she explained, before he could note that he'd been
unable to find her.  (That also explained why she was so scuffed and
dirty.)
        "Kozue, I - " Corwin began, but before he could go any
further, she was in his arms and kissing him.
        They hadn't been lovers for long, considering the length of
their relationship as a whole - only since Corwin's last birthday,
late in June.  The first keen edge hadn't worn off their physical
attraction yet.  She'd really only intended to stop him from saying
anything; but once she'd started kissing him, Kozue found it difficult
to stop, and presently, almost inevitably, they ended up in bed.
        It came as a bit of a surprise to Corwin when, afterward, in
that period of time when she normally found herself obscenely chipper,
Kozue instead broke down and wept, turning away.
        "Hey," he said.  "It's not like I'm -dying- or anything."
        Kozue gave a bitter chuckle at that, then wiped at her eyes
and pushed herself up to a seated position, facing him.  Her face was
closed, eyes downcast, and her hands lay in loose fists on her knees.
        "I didn't want to do this this way," she said quietly, almost
as if to herself.
        Corwin blinked.  "Do what?" he asked.
        She didn't reply for a few seconds, instead sitting in silence
with tears trickling down her face.
        "Corwin," she said at length, "I... I've really enjoyed being
with you.  I want you to know that, and never doubt it.  You've made
me feel special, in a way that no boyfriend I ever had before has
done.  Hell, in all the important ways I never -had- a boyfriend
before you."  She raised her eyes to him then, wide and sad and deep
blue, and said in a hushed voice, "But that's over now."
        Corwin responded in the only way he could, which was to look
mightily confused.
        "... Why?" he finally inquired.
        "Damn," said Kozue, dashing at her eyes with an irritated
gesture.  "This is why I didn't want to do this this way.  Especially
not right after... damn!  Good old nympho Kozue, all the self-control
of a bitch in heat," she muttered, disgusted with herself.  Before
Corwin could phrase any sort of protest to that self-abuse, she lunged
forward and seized his hands.
        "Because you're going back to Asgard, and you don't know how
long you'll be gone - and when you get back everything will be
different.  Our lives were about to change anyway, high school is
over.  We had a good time - hell, a great time - and I was hoping that
we could... you know... steal a little more time this summer... but in
the fall everything changes.  Oh, dammit, Corwin, don't you SEE?"
        Corwin shook his head, completely mystified and more than a
little hurt.  "No," he replied.  "Is this because of Anthy?"
        "No!" Kozue protested.  "Well... not the way you think.  I
haven't changed my mind about that.  I just... I don't want you
spending however long in Asgard thinking you're coming back to me,
only to find out the hard way that everything's different when you get
back."
        "I don't understand why everything has to -be- different when
I get back," Corwin said.
        "I... "  Kozue looked down at her knees again, then sighed,
got out of bed, and started dressing.  "I don't think I can explain
it," she said, sounding on the verge of tears again.  "It's just... I
know the way these things go," she said, "and... "  She stopped,
searching for words, found none, and then said, "I'm sorry.  I blew
this big-time."  She gave a wan chuckle laced with pain, then added,
"I never had to break off with anyone I actually cared about before."
        Corwin just sat there, giving her an uncomprehending hurt
look, like a dog who has just found himself unexpectedly kicked, and
Kozue felt the tears overcome her.
        "I love you," she said, choking back a sob as she did so; then
she leaned down, kissed him, repeated, "I'm sorry," and left the room
at something just to the conservative side of a run.
        Sitting alone, Corwin raised his fingertips to his lips,
then said quietly to the empty room,
        "I, uh... love you too?"

        The messhall on the Valiant was dark when Carmela Sunderland
went in to get something to eat.  That wasn't terribly surprising -
most of the ship's company was down at the resort, clustered in groups
to talk over the abrupt and unhappy departures of Corwin Ravenhair and
Gunnr Brynjelfr.  She tapped the panel on the wall to bring the lights
up and blinked in surprise.
        Anne Cross sat slumped at the larger table, her face pillowed
on her arms, almost as if she were asleep; an uneaten Hungry Humanoid
tray had been opened and then pushed aside next to her.  Then Anne
lifted her face from her arms, and Carmela could see that her face was
wet with tears.
        It took Carmela a moment to get over her surprise that she
hadn't even sensed a trickle of emotion out of the girl when she was
so obviously upset.  They stared at each other for a moment, and then
Anne bit her lip and put her head back on her arms, and Carmela caught
a soft, stifled sob.
        Remembering the reaction she'd gotten out of Anne before when
she was upset, Carmela went to the autokitchen and pulled out her own
Hungry Humanoid tray, then sat down a little way down, across the
table, and began to eat quietly.
        Eventually, she finished and pushed the tray aside, and sat
watching Anne with a pensive expression.
        As if sensing her attention, Anne looked up, scrubbed at her
face with a sleeve, and sighed.  "I guess if I wanted to cry in
private, I should've just done it in my room," she mumbled, and pulled
the tray over in front of her.
        As the girl poked unenthusiastically at her food, Carmela
observed quietly, "I didn't know you were here until I turned the
light on.  You're doing better staying private this time."
        Anne sighed, and gave up poking at her food, just staring at
it.  "This time it's...different.  More personal, but..." she trailed
off.
        "But it's still hard to lose someone you care about that way."
        "Yeah," Anne agreed, then looked up at Carmela with a puzzled
expression before looking away again.
        Carmela sighed.  "There was a young man named Alexander
Metaxis who used to be assigned to the Lunarville VII communications
department, when I was posted there - my first posting out of the
Academy.  He was very bright, very talented... " she sighed again.
"He and I got along very well.  In another life, we might have had a
chance - the Psi Corps genuinely approves of coworkers having...
liasons, since telepathy's a recessive trait.  Unfortunately, he was
only a P6."
        Anne blinked, and then a cross between sympathy and disgust
crossed her face.  "Ah."
        "We went out to a concert at the amphitheater - took a picnic
dinner with us and spent the evening listening to various classical
pieces and talking.  He didn't fence, but he had done gymnastics
coaching, that sort of thing.  But we were apparently seen together,
and the next morning I was told he wasn't 'right for me, dear,' and
the day after that he was posted to another colony - they didn't tell
me which one, they didn't even let us say goodbye."
        A long pause stretched between them, and then Anne said, "I'm
sorry.  I got to say goodbye at least."
        Carmela smiled wearily.  "One gets over it... eventually."
        "How, by leaving?" Anne asked.  "I mean, I can't see getting
resigned to being told I have to date some guy I don't like because
his genetics are likely to produce a stronger telepath - or
pyrokinetic."
        "I'm still trying to figure that part out," Carmela admitted.
"It seemed to make sense at the time - you use it as a mocking taunt,
but 'the Corps is mother, the Corps is father' is -real- to those of
us who grew up under its wing... so I accepted that the Corps knew
best and put my pain aside.  It seemed to make sense at the time," she
repeated in a quiet, trailing-off voice.
        There was another silence, and then Sunderland sighed.  "I'm
not sure where I fit anymore.  And even if I were to go try to find
Alexander now, I'm a blip.  Chances are good he'd be horrified by what
I've done."
        "People change," Anne observed.  "That's... in some ways why
Gunnr's leaving hurts so much - because when she comes back, I'm going
to be someone different.  And there's no way of knowing whether I'll
still be in love with her.  Or her with me.  Though I hope we'll still
be friends... " she trailed off wistfully.
        Carmela nodded.
        After a moment, Anne pulled her tray back in front of her and
started eating.  Carmela picked up the book she had been intending to
read over her own meal, and they sat in silence until Anne finished.
"Thank you," she said quietly to the older woman, and sliding the
empty tray into the recycling bin, she left the mess hall.
        Carmela smiled weakly to herself.  "You're welcome," she
answered the closing door.


                     BAGATELLE No. 2 in C# MINOR
                        FRIDAY, JULY 31, 2409
                               9:29 PM
                        NIHONIA COAST HIGHWAY
                               CEPHIRO

        The Coast Highway was more or less deserted.  Since leaving
her family's home in Ikebana an hour ago, Wakaba Shinohara had passed
three other cars and seen a similar number go by on the other side of
the median strip, headed north.  That suited Wakaba just fine; she
liked having the road to herself.
        She settled back a little bit behind the wheel of Gloria, her
white and green Corvette, enjoying the cool evening air as it washed
over her.  Top down and throttle open - that was the way to spend a
night like this.  She didn't even mind being alone tonight; for a
number of reasons, all of them good, Saionji had been too busy to join
her on this trip, but she was enjoying the solitude of the drive home
too much to regret his absence.
        Anyway, she didn't think he liked her parents much, and she
couldn't really say she blamed him.  They -were- awfully hung up on
the age difference, and her mother was starting to twitter about
grandchildren, which was an interesting paradox when you stopped to
think about it.
        She looked to her left, past the flickering gleam of the
guard rail at the sea; it gleamed under the bluish light of Cephiro's
moon, and under the cruising purr of the Corvette's engine she could
hear the breakers hitting those giant concrete jacks the shoreline
authority liked to scatter along the seawall.
        It's funny how a few years can change things, isn't it? Wakaba
thought to herself.  I remember once riding this same route in this
same car, fearing for my life.  And I'm not the only one, either.
Hell, Utena refuses to ride in this car to this very day, and I guess
I can't really blame her.
        That train of thought might have dampened her good mood, but
before she could get too much further into it, she noticed lights in
her rear-view mirror.  Glad of the distraction, she kept an eye on
them as they drew closer.
        Presently she could hear the sound of the engine, and to her
surprise, it was a loud and powerful one - sounded a bit, in fact,
like her own car sounded when she gave her her head.  A few moments
later, the car pulled up alongside, and Wakaba got a good look at it
in the rhythmic pulsing glare of the highway's overhead lights.
        It was a similar vintage of vehicle to her own, as well - an
early Thunderbird, black on black with whitewall tires, complete with
the "porthole" hardtop.  It was completely buttoned up - top on,
windows rolled up - which struck Wakaba as unusual on a beautiful
night like this, and its windows were all smoked so that she couldn't
see the driver.
        She had the passing thought that it was all mildly sinister,
but then chuckled at herself.
        You're just feeling a little paranoid because of the things
you were just thinking about, she chided herself.  Probably just some
guy out enjoying his wheels like you are.  Let him go on by and enjoy
his evening.
        Wakaba raised one hand from the wheel and gave the Thunderbird
a friendly wave, one classic driver to another.
        The black T-bird's response was to lunge suddenly into
Wakaba's lane, almost sideswiping into the guard rail.  At this speed,
that would most likely have sent her flying out to sea - not a
pleasant or wise thing to do in a car.
        "HEY!" Wakaba yelled as she banged down on the brakes and felt
Gloria nosedive, tires screaming.  The T-bird snapped into the space
she had just occupied, nearly grazing the rail itself before its
driver could correct for having missed his target.  Then the black
car's brake lights came on as he, too, jammed on his brakes, still
trying to force a collision.
        Wakaba snarled, flipped two switches on the dash, rammed the
Corvette's gearshift down two gears, and drove the accelerator to the
floor.  The first switch cut the car's mufflers out of the exhaust
system, instead dumping the waste gases down straight pipes from
headers to tailpipe and increasing the engine note to a dramatic roar.
The second overlaid that roar with music as the car felt her newly
added horsepower, bit into the asphalt, and hurled herself forward.

 /*  The Black Crowes  "Kickin' My Heart Around"  _By Your Side_  */

        The white Corvette with her emerald-green coves darted around
the Thunderbird and sped away while the T-bird's driver was still
recovering from his own wild deceleration.  Wakaba glanced in the
rearview mirror and saw the Ford's headlights wobble, then brighten as
the car's nose came up and he renewed his pursuit.
        OK, pal, if that's the way you want to play it, she thought as
she reached up to her forehead and flicked her driving goggles down
over her eyes.
        One thing quickly became obvious: On the wide-open,
arrow-straight Coast Highway, where the curves were long and gentle if
they were there at all, the Thunderbird was the faster car.  It caught
up inexorably, the glare of its headlights becoming larger and more
widely spaced in Wakaba's mirror.  She flogged Gloria to 145 and felt
the slight flutter begin in the steering, telling her that she pushed
the issue only at her peril.
        An exit sign flashed past, so fast that its legend only
imprinted itself on Wakaba's mind subconsciously, but that was all she
needed; she knew this stretch of highway better than any other.
        Without further consideration, she put Gloria's helm hard
over and did some intricate things with the pedals.  Balanced on the
edge of a skid, the white car hared off down the exit ramp and onto
Route 17, a much more winding, twisting, treacherous road to Tenjou
Academy than the Coast Highway ever dreamed of being.
        It was also one of Wakaba's favorite roads, one which she
drove every time she came back to Cephiro.
        The Corvette's exhaust note blared back at her from the
concrete retaining walls along the sides of the exit, and then she was
out onto the wooded, darkened, deserted expanse of Route 17.  By now
the Thunderbird was right behind her; she was counting on her skill,
her experience with this road, and Gloria's race-bred agility to give
her the edge she needed.
        The T-bird's lights slashed across the mirror as Wakaba pushed
her car into the first turn, a long, arching left with brooding woods
on either side.
        Wakaba was right about that edge.  She was able to stay one
jump ahead of him, whoever he was - but only just, and she couldn't
lose him.  The chase went on for more than half an hour as they roared
through sleepy little towns and along the edges of farms and hamlets,
over narrow bridges and around nasty hairpin turns overlooking rocky
slopes.
        When they crested the Karo Ridge, from which the little city
of Saitou, nestled by its little blue bay, and the Academy campus
could be seen, Wakaba's shoulders were aching and her shirt was
plastered to her back with sweat under her green leather jacket,
despite the coolness of the evening air.  She was breathing hard, her
heart pounding, her pupils dilated.
        She was, in short, just hitting her stride.
        She poised Gloria at the peak of the ridge and hurled her down
the other side, toward the city, and the Thunderbird followed.

          /*  Megadeth  "Paranoid"  _Nativity in Black_  */

        They dove down the ridge, passed under the perimeter highway,
and roared through the normally quiet woods on the outskirts of town,
jockeying for position on the twisting road.
        Whoever this guy is, Wakaba thought as she whipped Gloria
around a turn that came within shouting distance of being a hairpin,
he's good.  Maybe as good as me... maybe even a little bit better.
        Well, maybe not -that- good.
        She threw a downshift, rounded the corner of a farm, and
accelerated hard up the long, shallow hill she knew was coming next.
The T-bird came baying at her heels, confirming a suspicion Wakaba had
been forming since crossing the ring road.  The black car's driver
knew this stretch as well as she did, but he hadn't been familiar with
Route 17.  Whoever he was, he was probably from Saitou, but never
drove the back roads beyond the ring.
        Interesting.
        Wakaba hand-over-handed around a tight bend, downshifted
again as soon as she got a hand free.  The green glow of her Lens,
built into the Rose Seal on her left ringfinger, glinted at her as she
steered, but she paid it little mind.
        The ring was a powerful device, a focus for her peculiar
mystic gifts, but it wasn't going to do her a lot of good in these
conditions.  With it, she could fly, project force fields, blast
things; all very useful abilities, but not in a car chase.  She could
probably come up with a way to use it in these circumstances, but
she'd never tried it before and didn't really have the spare mental
bandwidth to go devising new stunts right now.
        Anyway, it had never really occurred to her to try it.  In an
odd way, she felt like that would be cheating.  Like using its power
in a Rose Duel - the sort of thing that just isn't done.
        They raced through the streets of the city, devoid of traffic
at this hour - and never a cop around when you want one, Wakaba
remarked wryly to herself - and it seemed to her that her opponent was
getting more aggressive.  The Thunderbird was taking more chances, as
if its driver had figured out where she was headed and wanted to stop
her before she got there.
        She grinned fiercely and accelerated.  If that's the game, she
thought, OK, let's play.
        They blazed through downtown and into the residential
neighborhoods at the north end of the city, and now Wakaba's
confidence in her theory got further reinforcement, as the driver of
the Thunderbird started pushing his machine to its absolute limit.
Wakaba acknowledged the challenge and did the same.  She knew exactly
what she could demand of Gloria under any conditions, and conditions
tonight were just about perfect.
        Gloria rounded the corner onto the Tenjou Academy access road
traveling more sideways than forward, tires screaming, a half-second
ahead of the black Thunderbird.  The black car began to pull abreast
of the white-and-green Corvette as both cars lunged up the hill toward
the lights of the academy at the top.  Now the Thunderbird didn't
offer to sideswipe; the access road was narrow enough that such a
collision would probably send both cars tumbling down the hill.
        Instead, the black car's driver was obviously trying to get
ahead so that he could pull across and block Wakaba's path.  She might
ram him, but that kind of crash probably wouldn't send them off the
road.
        Desperate, stranger, she thought.  What's your game?
        Then she put all extra thoughts out of her head and
concentrated fully on wringing every last ounce of speed she could out
of Gloria.
        The Thunderbird surged to match her, pulled slightly ahead -
then faltered, nearly losing control.  Wakaba gritted her teeth and
kept the throttle open.  The T-bird slewed, nearly performing that
fatal sideswipe, but then fell behind before going into an outright
skid.
        The Corvette streaked under the wrought-iron arch of Tenjou
Academy's gate, then slid to a halt next to the fountain.  Wakaba
jumped out and ran back to the gate.  There she stood and looked down
the access road.
        There was nothing there.  No Thunderbird on the road, and no
sign of a wreck off it.  The strip of night between the academy and
Saitou was as silent and deserted as the moon.
        "Where the - " Wakaba murmured quietly.
        "What are you looking at?" a voice inquired behind her.
        Wakaba, still wound tight from the impromptu race she'd just
driven, jumped.  "GaaAAAaah!" she cried, whirling, ready to defend
herself; then she relaxed, lowering her glowing green fist, and
snapped, "Dammit, Saionji!  Can't sneak UP on a girl like that!"
        Kyouichi Saionji raised an eyebrow.  "I didn't realize I was,"
he said mildly.  He turned to look at the 'Vette, which was sitting on
the brick parkway at an odd angle to the fountain and still slowly
ticking over, then back at Wakaba, who was flushed, sweaty, and
windblown.
        "I get the impression," he said, "that there's an interesting
story here."


                      BAGATELLE No. 3 in F MINOR
                        FRIDAY, JULY 31, 2409
                               10:35 PM
                                ASGARD

        Corwin let himself into his small apartment on the Street of
the Eternal Heroes, kicked the door shut with a heel, dropped his
Valkyrie dress uniform's tunic on his kitchen table on his way
through, and fell onto the couch with an explosive sigh.
        "Once," he observed to the empty room, "I had a life."
        There was a strange thing he'd noticed about coming back to
Asgard this way, with the security protocols in place so that he
couldn't have any contact with the other nine worlds.  The longer
he stayed, the more oddly unreal his life in Midgard seemed to
become.  It was like all that had happened to some other person,
someone he'd known but lost track of.  It was all interesting, but not
particularly relevant to his life today.
        He had only a few mental anchors to keep that feeling from
becoming complete, prevent him from becoming completely adrift both
mentally and emotionally.  They were memories of particular moments,
mostly.  Strangely enough, at times like this he tended to dwell on
the painful moments rather than the sweet ones - pain seemed to do a
better job of keeping him focused.
        It had the unfortunate side effect of depressing him further,
but it did seem to do a better job of keeping him focused.
        He sat on the couch, elbows on knees, and wiped his hands down
his face.  Come on, Ravenhair, get a grip on yourself, he said
silently.  You can handle a little separation.  You spent most of your
high school career living 300 light years from the focus of your
existence.
        ... But at least then I could call.
        He sighed and flung himself backward against the cushions,
sprawling his arms out at his sides.  This wasn't doing any good at
all.
        The window to his left, which overlooked the courtyard in the
middle of the building, opened.  Corwin turned his head, but didn't
otherwise react.  His reaction to someone opening a window of his
apartment from outside and climbing backward in through it was
basically just curiosity.  He was feeling too drained for anything
else.
        Besides, the backside was unmistakable.
        "Evening, Gunnr," he said casually.  "Lost?  Your apartment
is on the other side of the courtyard."
        Gunnr Brynjelfr finished easing her slender frame through the
window, straightened up, clapped the window shut, and turned a rueful
grin to Corwin.
        "I'm not cut out for this ninja shit," she observed as she
coiled herself into a lotus position in the armchair opposite the
couch.
        "Why didn't you send Aeryn, then?" Corwin wondered.
        "No, the girls insisted I be the one to make the delivery
run," Gunnr replied.  "So you'd know we aren't, you know, up to
anything."
        "Oh, well, that was considerate of them," said Corwin, who had
absolutely no idea what the elven Valkrie was talking about.
        "I mean, Vee wanted to do it, but Hildy said no.  Figured
she'd probably take advantage of you."
        Wry comprehension crossed Corwin's face.  "Ah.  Well, it's
good to know that Colonel Silverspear is looking out for my virtue,"
he said dryly.
        Gunnr laughed.  "Anyway," she said, raking her slim hands back
through her auburn hair.  "I can't stay long, I'm supposed to be on
armory guard tonight."  She reached into the tunic of her duty uniform
and pulled out a slightly crumpled envelope.  "For you," she said,
placing it on the coffee table and sliding it across to Corwin.  "And
you don't wanna know what we went through to get it here," she added,
winking.
        Corwin gave the envelope an inquisitive look, then reached to
pick it up.  Before he could, Gunnr was on her feet again, rounding
the coffee table.  Not knowing quite what to do, he got up.  She gave
him a hug that, to his surprise, turned into a kiss, but didn't go any
further.
        "You know," she said softly, "I'm half-tempted to take
advantage of you myself... but that would probably be really
unhealthy, what with -both- of us on the rebound and all."
        "Uh... yeah," said Corwin.
        "So goodnight, sweet Corwin," said Gunnr with a chuckle,
releasing him.  "I'll be sure and tell Hildy that you're not safe from
me either," she added as she opened the window and climbed out again.
"Next time she'll send Gudrun on ninja duty, most likely.  She's the
only one of us you're completely safe from.  That'll be good for a
laugh."
        Then the window closed and she was gone.
        Corwin stood in his living room for a second, scratching at
the back of his head in deep, deep puzzlement.
        Then he shrugged, muttered "Elves.  Go figure," and sat down
to pick up the letter she'd left.

                                        East Hall, Room 202
                                        Tenjou Academy
                                        Saitou, Nihonia
                                        CEPHIRO
                                        July 31, 2409

Dear Corwin,

Vee says she'll get her ass in a sling if she gets caught smuggling
this letter to you, but she's bent on doing it anyway, so I might as
well write.  Kind of ironic when you think about it, huh?

I wish I could say that everybody's fine here and we're all doing fine
without you, but the truth is, we're all pretty bummed out.  Kate
hasn't been happy with any of the shows the Art's done since you left.
Oh, she'd never say it out loud, but I can tell.  And no wonder,
really, with everything that's been going on.

As always, Azalynn and Moose are the anchors.  They've held the band
together all week - Azalynn's energy and Moose's steadiness have given
everybody, in the band and out of it, something to fall back on.

We're hoping the Cephiro leg of the tour, which starts night after
tomorrow at the Amphitheatre here, will turn it around.  It's always
been a high point of the other tours we've done it in, morale-wise,
and the Tenjou Academy show has been dynamite both years.

I know Kate's banking on it to work this time, too.  If it doesn't, I
really don't know what will happen.  I'm sure if she wasn't such a
dedicated musician, Kate would already have said the hell with it,
let's just go home.  If Sunday's show doesn't break us out of our
funk, I don't know what can.  I'm not going to say it out loud, but
continuing the tour in that condition... might be a mistake.

It's not -all- gloom and doom.  Aside from the band's problems, which
she's handling OK, Kate is doing well.  She and Miki still haven't
said anything, but it's pretty obvious.  Everybody's really happy for
them, too, which helps keep our chins up.

You missed an exciting time day before yesterday.  Juni came running
into the caf at lunchtime and yelled, "Dorothy's fighting Kanna!"  We
all scrambled down to the dojo to see, and sure enough, they were
fighting - not just sparring, but really going at it.  It was a test,
like the one Kate had to do after we got away from Earth.  Man, you
should have seen them go!  It ended up in a draw, which was kind of an
anticlimax, but what a show!  Kanna says she doesn't have anything
more to teach Dorothy now - it's up to her to find a way to take
herself the rest of the way down the path.  We're all really pleased
for her too.

Speaking of training, Juni's is coming along nicely.  Kate's got her
hands full handling both of her students and both of Dad's, but T'Vek
and Saionji are at a level where they can do a lot of their work on
their own.  And Juni seems to have hit it off nicely with Jean, so
that helps.  'Course, it's hard not to hit it off nicely with Jean.

Oh, and speaking of T'Vek, she's been showing Shiori the ins and outs
of data security.  At this rate, we figure she'll be ready to take on
the job of online security officer... just about the time we get done
with the tour.  Oh well!  She'll be ready for next year, and it'll
help her in school too.

The ship's running fine.  B'Elanna stayed with her while the rest of
us came across; we offered to bring her too, but she said she wanted
to overhaul the two-headed frammistat or something while we weren't
using the engines.  No doubt she'll have everything running perfectly
by the time we get back - not that I noticed anything wrong before. :)

Boy, this summer's just been one damn thing after another, hasn't it?
I think at this point we're all ready to go back to school so we can
relax.  Well, except for me.  No school for me this fall!  But I knew
that when I signed up, and the look on the registrar's face when I
told him why I wasn't coming back was -spectacular-.

Listen to me.  I've rambled on for three pages and haven't really said
a damn thing.  Next I'll start worrying about what to make for lunch
tomorrow.  Anyway, wish us luck Sunday night.  We miss you.  Hell, why
mince words?  -I- miss you - more than I ever thought I could.  Wasn't
for Anthy, I'd be climbing the walls.  Friday just isn't the same
without you, Corwin.

Everyone says hi.  Anthy is thinking of ways to spring you.  She's
reading up on doppelgangers, but Mia doesn't think that will work.
... Hey, when did Mia get here?!  And when did Yomiko leave?

Shows you what kind of attention span I've got lately... 

I'm out of room and Vee keeps looking at her watch.  Keep it together,
Corwin, and we'll do the same.  Remember that there are a lot of
people over here who love you.

I'm one of them.

        (Here there were several scratched-out partial closings,
showing that the writer had struggled a bit about how to express what
she felt - an unusual state of affairs for her, to say the last.
Finally, there was a small gap, as if to provide a bit of breathing
room, before the very simple:)

                                        Always,
                                        UTENA

        Corwin read the letter twice, re-read bits of it once more,
then folded it up, put it back in the envelope, and put it on the
coffee table.
        He looked at his watch; it wanted a few minutes of eleven in
the evening.  The weariness which had dogged him back to his apartment
had gone, erased by the powerful rush of the reconnection he felt with
his real life.  Everything was back in its right perspective again.
His friends and loved ones weren't going to forget him while he was
gone.
        He went into his bedroom, changed into casual clothes, and
came out shrugging into a leather bomber jacket he'd bought for the
Getter G flight tests.  That gave him a moment of pause, since it
brought with it memories of a time when things had been going well
with Kozue, which in turn brought with it the continuing question of
what the hell all -that- had been about... but he shook it off, tucked
the letter into the jacket's inside pocket, and left the apartment.
        Corwin left his car where it was, parked in the short driveway
next to the building's entrance.  It was a short enough walk to his
destination, and a pleasant night.
        He entered the golden-roofed hall of Valhalla, waving a
greeting to the night porter as he did so.  From down the hall, the
sounds of feasting and reveling drifted to his ears - the warriors of
the Einherjar celebrating the end of another day's battle, the coming
of another weekend.
        Corwin smiled, but didn't head that way.  He liked to hang
around here in the evenings sometimes and listen to the warriors tell
their stories, but tonight he was in the mood for a more solitary
pursuit.  Instead, he navigated the mystically weird corridors of
Valhalla, following a path only an experienced visitor to the Hall of
Heroes could have managed, and then passed through a door and into a
room that seemed like a whole different building.
        "Evening, Heinz," he said to the grizzled man in coveralls who
was the only other person in the hangar.  Heinz was up on a metal
scaffold, bent over the engine of an antique fighter plane.
        "Evening, young sir," Heinz replied, saluting vaguely with the
wrench he was holding before returning to work on the engine.
        "What's available tonight?" Corwin asked.
        "Oh, most everything, Lord Corwin," Heinz said.  "I'm just
tuning up Galland's 109; everything else on the apron is flightline
ready, and all the boys are drinking or sleeping at this hour."
        Corwin nodded, thumb on chin, and surveyed the row of aircraft
parked out on the floodlit tarmac beyond the open doors of the huge
hangar.
        The Valhalla complex had many such hangars, grouped by world
of origin and rough time period.  This one was reserved for the first
half of the twentieth century on Earth, which made it one of Corwin's
father's favorite places to visit on the infrequent occasions when he
visited Valhalla.  Having been influenced by his father's preferences
growing up, it was one of Corwin's favorites too, and since he was old
enough to fly, he'd stopped by whenever the mood struck him to get
some stick time in one of these classics.
        He walked down the row, musing silently on each aircraft he
passed before stopping in front of one particular specimen.
        Smiling, he turned and called, "Hey, Heinz!  You think Biggles
would mind if I took his Camel up?"
        Heinz climbed down from the scaffold and crossed the apron,
wiping his hands on a rag and smiling.
        "I reckon not, sir," he said, "so long as you don't crash.
Climb aboard and I'll prop her for you."

        Ten minutes later, with the cool evening wind humming through
the wires and struts of the antique biplane and the drone of the
160-horse Gnome rotary in his ears, Corwin felt almost human again.
It was funny how, when he'd flown - hell, when he'd BUILT - some of
the fastest, most powerful small craft of the 25th century, he could
find such freedom and joy in this rickety old contraption from decades
before his father's birth, but there it was.
        He snap-rolled the Camel to the left, feeling the powerful
torque of the heavy engine, then banked around the Beacon of Creation
and laughed.  Let the Council drag its feet, let Frey have his little
victory.  It couldn't last forever, but what rode in his jacket's
inside pocket could.  Didn't it say right there in blue and white,
"Always"?
        They can't keep me here forever, he thought, and rolled the
Camel again.
        Over the next few months, those six words would become
Corwin's mantra.


                         BAGATELLE No. 4 in G
                       SATURDAY, AUGUST 1, 2409
                            TENJOU ACADEMY

        On Saturday, the members of the Art of Noise and the band's
entourage were left pretty much to their own devices.  Some read; some
rehearsed solo; some just wandered around.  Miki Kaoru chose to do the
last, poking around the campus.  He hadn't had a really good look at
the place since it had still been called Ohtori Academy, and he felt
it was high time he did so.
        He saw the things that were new first - the new botanical
gardens, which he quite liked, and the new magic building.  The
sorcery department was growing by leaps and bounds, especially since
the school's university division had been reopened.  It was an
exciting time to be a student at Tenjou Academy; almost made Miki wish
he was back there again.
        Almost.
        He ran into Juri Arisugawa in the Student Council chamber.
She was doing precisely the same thing he was doing, as it turned out -
starting with the places she didn't know - but they'd missed each
other in the earlier spots.  Now they stood on the balcony where the
Student Council had always had its meetings in their day, looking at
the campus, in a friendly silence; and when they left to resume their
tour with the places they -did- know, they left together.
        Miki and Juri seldom spoke of the past.  Their shared history
was something that brought them silently together, not a thing that
needed constant examination and exploration.
        All the same, as they walked around the campus of Tenjou
Academy, they found it difficult -not- to revisit various moments in
their lives.  The broken Grand Tournament had damaged and destroyed
many things, but the bonds it forged between those who survived were
powerful indeed.
        Everywhere on the campus, it seemed, held a memory for one or
the other of them, and many for both; but it wasn't until they came to
one particular structure that they suddenly realized just where the
steps they took, retracing the path of their history, were taking
them.
        The academy fencing studio stood before them, silent and dark.
        Juri and Miki looked at each other, then silently smiled and
went inside.
        The studio was deserted, but Juri saw with approval that
whoever headed up the current version of the Fencing Club kept the
place tidy, just as she had, with the practice weapons neatly racked
and the floor spotless.  The late-afternoon sunlight slanted through
the high windows, painting diagonal lines of orange across the
polished wood.
        Juri stood for a moment and took it in.  A lot of things had
happened to her in this room, and by no measure were all of them
good.  The last time she'd been alone here with anyone she'd had a
very strange and rather painful conversation.  The last time she'd
been alone here with a man... didn't bear thinking about, even now.
She hesitated, her hand on the frame of the door, and considered
turning away and leaving.
        Just then, Miki turned to her and raised an eyebrow, his lips
quirking in a mischievous little smile.  Juri felt her cheeks get
warm, her trepidation still there but overridden; then she answered
the look with a wryly gracious little nod.
        Without a word, they crossed the room, went to opposite sides,
and selected weapons from the racks.  Juri tested the spring of a
rapier, then another, and smiled as she found one she liked; then she
turned to see Miki hanging his leather jacket on a corner of the rack
at his end of the room, his own weapon already chosen.
        He paused suddenly, reached into the inside pocket, and
rummaged around a bit; then he took his hand out, triggered the
stopwatch in it, and dropped the watch back into the pocket before
walking with an easy, unhurried tread to his place.
        Juri felt her throat tighten slightly as she watched him, his
almost catlike grace, the lean, strong muscles moving under his
snug-fitting t-shirt.
        The only man I've ever wanted, she thought to herself, and
swallowed.  My God, he's beautiful.
        Then she regained her composure, smiled, and took her own
place opposite him.  They raised their weapons in salute, dropped into
the en-garde, and began.
        It started the way most of their proper fencing matches
started, slowly, a bit hesitantly, each waiting for the other.  A few
feints and tentative thrusts, easily parried.  A quick flurry of
back-and-forth.  Getting each other's measure, now, getting the blood
flowing and the eyes widening, the reactions sharper, the margins
narrower.
        This was real fencing now, championship-caliber fencing, the
kind of action that had taken teams containing one or both of these
combatants to the top of their sport at three different schools.
Their rapiers clashed and rebounded, the soles of their shoes hissed
and stamped as they went back and forth, Miki with his off hand
raised, Juri with hers tucked behind her back.  Honest sweat had
formed on the brows of both fighters; sprigs of Miki's royal-blue hair
had escaped from his ponytail and were flying around his face as he
lunged and retreated.
        They were perfectly matched, each the other's equal and
opposite.  Juri felt her history falling away.  Everything that had
ever happened to her in this room suddenly became insignificant
compared to what was happening right now.  It was a tremendously
lightening, liberating feeling.  She felt suddenly free to do anything
she wanted, released from constraints she hadn't known were holding
her.
        Her emerald eyes narrowed, and Miki saw it and smiled, the
grim mask of concentration that usually dominated his face when he was
fencing erased in an instant.  He was ready as if telepathically
warned when Juri suddenly shifted her weight and her style.
        Seamlessly, with only the smallest moment of transition, she
stepped out of line and out of formal fencing, transformed in an
instant from a fencer to a Duelist - and in that moment, the world was
transformed as well.
        When Juri began her step out of line, they were two fencers
with dull grey, blunt-tipped practice rapiers, dressed in street
clothes, sporting in an empty gymnasium.
        When the step was complete they were uniformed Student
Councilors, their blades gleaming and wickedly pointed, doing battle
among the clouds high above the Tenth World on a platform paved with
the face of a rose.
        This struck neither of them as at all unusual.  It was simply
-right-; at such a moment, in such a place as Tenjou Academy, nothing
else could possibly have happened.
        Before they had been master technicians.  Now they were
-artists-, collaborating with their blades.  They threw themselves at
one another's defenses with total abandon, without any thought of
danger or injury.  Indeed, both their faces wore broad smiles as their
blades slashed the air with audible hisses and drew sparks whenever
they clashed.
        Juri parried a particularly ingenious effort, met his eye and
grinned in recognition of its excellence, and then twisted into a
riposte that slashed past his head, nearly relieving him of an ear.
His ducking retreat turned his head just so, just as she had expected,
and her blade nipped sideways, neatly parting the elastic that held
his hair in its ponytail.
        As it flew free, whipping in the breeze that blew across the
dueling floor, Miki bared his teeth in a fiercely exultant grin,
recovered his balance, and drove himself toward her.  His cup-hilt
rapier, a quicker, more agile blade than her thin French broadsword,
flickered out like an electric spark.  Juri recoiled, thinking that
the blade's point was seeking the orange rose pinned to her breast
pocket; but even if he could have taken her rose so easily, Miki had
no intention of ending this grand sport so soon.
        The springy blade instead caught on the key hanging from the
golden braid on Juri's uniform jacket, bent slightly, and snapped
upward, its tip barely grazing the catch at the jacket's collar.
        The braid flicked aside and took the second closure with it as
the throat tab popped open, baring the redhead's slender throat, the
notch of her collarbone, and the gentle slope of her upper chest.  It
was a tremendously risky maneuver - had he done it wrong, he could
have run her through or cut her throat - and it was executed
perfectly.
        Juri felt a hot shiver run through her, not from the danger of
the move, but at the exquisite deftness with which it had been
executed - and the smoldering light in Miki's blue eyes as he regarded
the result.
        They crossed and recrossed the dueling floor, treading
unknowing over the scars left behind on the rose-patterned paving by
the tremendous battles which had marked the end of the Grand
Tournament in this place.  They fought for no cosmic stakes now, for
no great and mysterious prize; not even for the sake of impressing an
audience, for there was none.  Now they fought for the sheer fierce
hot-blooded joy of it.
        Everything ends, or everything begins, depending on the way
in which you look at it; and as Miki turned aside the thousandth blow
from Juri's sword and then pivoted inside it, Juri knew this was done.
        He's won, she thought, a half-second before the tip of Miki's
blade took the rose from her chest, and the sensation that came with
the knowledge was not sorrow or disappointment but a strange
satisfaction.
        Then it was done, and Miki stood before her, his arm extended
at his side, her orange rose perfectly poised on the tip of his sword.
The blossom, she realized with a sort of detached astonishment, was
not held there, impaled on the steel; it was merely -balanced-,
removed from its setting unharmed.
        Miki gave Juri a smile that she thought might melt her bones,
flicked the orange flower into the air, put his sword away at his
belt, then caught the rose neatly and offered it to her again with a
gracious bow.
        The dueling platform, the uniforms, and all the rest vanished;
they were back in the fencing studio, the orange light of the
afternoon now stretching in longer, more sharply slanted slashes
across the floor.  Miki's hair was still free; Juri's shirt was
missing its top two buttons.
        He still had that smile on his face, and he was still offering
her an orange rose.
        Juri instead reached out a long, slim hand and plucked the
blue rose from the pocket of his t-shirt.  Then, still holding it in
her hand, she bowed at last to an impulse which she had at times
needed all her strength to suppress in recent years, took him in her
arms, and kissed him as hard as she could.

        Eiko Kageshoujo, former president of the Tenjou (nee Ohtori)
Academy Dramatic Society and now a budding director in the Cephirean
film industry, was having a day similar to the one Miki and Juri had
been having before they arrived at the fencing studio.  She'd come
back to her dear old alma mater, as she did every summer, to hear the
Art of Noise, and now she was wandering about the campus,
reacquainting herself with all the old landmarks and seeing what was
new.
        Tenjou Academy was a much more dynamic place than Ohtori
Academy ever had been, so every year there -was- something new, where
when Eiko had gone to school here, nothing had ever seemed to change
from one year to the next.  She was quite fond of the Himemiya
Botanical Gardens, built two years before on the spot where the old
burned-out sorcery department building had been, and the -new- sorcery
building, Wishbringer Hall (peculiar name, that), was coming along
very nicely indeed.
        She walked, humming happily, along one of the campus's bricked
paths, noticing the way the afternoon light played on the broad
white-stone side of Tsuchiya Hall, the fencing studio.  That building
always had been good for shadows at this time of day, and Eiko smiled
as she remembered the carefree days when she, Bijou, and Clara Pike
had been heavily into absurdist shadow play.
        "I wonder, I wonder," she murmured, chuckling; then she heard
a quiet, peculiar sound, one she couldn't immediately identify.
"... I wonder what that noise is?" she mused.  Puzzled, she crossed
the path, stood on tiptoe, and looked into the nearest of the fencing
studio's windows.
        "... oh -my-," she said, her face going red; but she was
smiling and whistling a happy tune, all the same, as she walked away
from the building with her hands folded behind her back.

        The next morning, Anne Cross sat in the Tenjou Academy Kendo
Club's dojo, waiting quietly for Kaitlyn to appear and start the day's
lesson.  She was alone, which surprised her slightly.  With Gryphon
out on the Rim getting himself together after his wife's
disappearance, his two students were training with Kaitlyn as well as
Kate's own pair, so training sessions had been rather crowded lately.
        This morning, though, there was no sign of anyone - neither
Saionji nor T'Vek were in evidence, nor Jean Grey, Anne's fellow
novice.
        Having Jean around was an interesting experience for Anne.
The redheaded woman was a slightly more advanced student, but that
wasn't what made her presence interesting.  She wasn't -that- far
ahead of Anne, or she'd have been a journeyman, like Saionji and
T'Vek.
        No, what was interesting about having Jean around was the fact
that she was a fellow telepath, and a very experienced one, but one
who, unlike Carmela Sunderland, hadn't grown up with the structure of
the Psi Corps around her.  Jean was from a parallel dimension that
wasn't afflicted with the Corps, and her perspective on telepathy, its
uses, and the responsibilities it brought with it was very refreshing.
        Jean, Juniper, and Carmela had, over the last month or so,
formed a sort of impromptu telepaths' consortium.  At first, Carmela's
participation had been hesitant and sporadic, but as Anne grew more
comfortable having her around, she grew more comfortable -being-
around, and eventually she started coming to the informal meetings
more often than not.
        What they -did- in those meetings was a source of vaguely
puzzled amusement to the non-telepaths in the crew, rather like the
"witches' coven" meetings that ensued whenever Mia Ausa, Anthy Tenjou,
and Corwin's mother and/or aunts got together.  Sometimes these were
just bull sessions.  Sometimes the three compared notes about their
different views on the telepath experience.  Sometimes they traded tips
and techniques, with Carmela teaching counters to the most common Psi
Cop tricks and Jean providing variations from her own unique
experiences.
        Anne enjoyed these gatherings, and more than that, she felt
she was learning valuable lessons from them.  Jean's presence was
calming, for she was also a telekinetic and knew what it was to have a
physically disruptive gift one had to struggle to control.  Her
participation had a certain moderating influence as well, permitting
Anne and Carmela to coexist long enough to realize that, once you got
past the immensely divisive effect of their backgrounds, they really
rather liked one another.
        Juniper returned from this reverie with a snap as her
developing zanshin, the "sixth sense" of the samurai, told her there
was someone entering the dojo.  She looked and saw Saionji stepping
onto the polished wood floor through the main entrance, and smiled to
herself.  It was good to know that her zanshin was developing enough
that she'd felt his presence even though his Lens made him invisible
to her telepathy.
        She greeted him cordially, this being a dojo and all.  She
wanted to ask him why he was alone, but reserved it, waiting to see if
he would volunteer the information.
        He did, with his usual slightly sardonic smile.
        "Kaitlyn-sensei is busy today," he said.  "You and I are on
our own.  T'Vek is working with Jean for the day."
        Anne nodded.  "I understand, sempai," she said.
        Saionji's smile got just a little wider.
        "Not yet, you don't," he said with a chuckle, "but you will
shortly."  Leaving her puzzled by that remark, he looked around the
dojo with a thoughtful look, then ran his hand along one of the racks
of shinai near the door and smiled again, this time with a touch of
nostalgia.
        "I was the captain of the kendo team here, you know," he said,
"back when this place was called Ohtori Academy.  It was here... "  He
crossed the dojo and stood near one of the windows.  "... right here
on this spot that the world began to change."
        Anne cocked her head inquisitively.  "What do you mean,
sempai?" she asked.
        Saionji chuckled.  "It was here that Tenjou challenged me," he
said.  "Broke the endless cycle.  The first brushstroke on the face of
the new Cephiro... "  His voice trailed off as his violet eyes looked
off into an invisible distance - or perhaps back into the past.
        Then he shook himself out of it and turned, smiling, to Anne.
        "Come on," he said, holding out a hand.  "I want to show you
something."

        They walked across campus, Anne feeling mildly conspicuous in
her monsuke and hakama among the uniformed students of the Academy's
summer session.  Saionji, in the lead, carried himself just as he
would have in his old student councilor's uniform, smiling and nodding
to the students who recognized him and waved or called greetings.  It
was a beautiful, sunny day with a slight breeze, the kind of day that
made Anne feel especially glad to be alive and no longer living in
alleys and sewers.
        The two climbed a flight of white stone stairs toward the gate
of the enclosed forest at the "top" of the keyhole-shaped campus.
        "So... " said Anne as they climbed.
        "Mm?" asked Saionji.
        "Where's Sensei today?" she asked.
        Saionji smiled.  "She's with Juri."
        Anne looked mildly puzzled.  Kate was often with Juri, they
were lovers.  That didn't usually keep her from showing up for
training sessions.
        "OK," she said.  "So where's Juri?"
        Saionji's smile became something just to the right side of a
smirk.  "She's with Miki," he said.
        "Oh," said Anne.  Then there was a pause, and the look of
puzzlement on her face was replaced by surprise.  "Oh!"  She reddened
a little, smiling, and then chuckled and said one last time, "Oh."
        "Indeed," said Saionji.  They reached the top of the stairs
then, and stopped in front of the door.  He turned another smile on
his young companion - the smile he saved for his true intimates - and
grasped the handle of the white stone door that blocked their way into
the forest.
        Anne wasn't sure what happened next, except that the
decorative fountains surrounding the little plaza at the top of the
stairs suddenly burst into life, shrouding their surroundings with
mist and walls of falling water.  When the water show ended, the door
was gone, replaced by an open doorway surmounted by a huge white stone
rose.
        "... Well," said Anne, "that was cool."
        Saionji chuckled.  "Welcome to the Forest of Secrets," he
said, gesturing her through the doorway ahead of him.
        Anne had little enough experience of forests, aside from the
one behind the house on Tomodachi, and this one, she saw as she
passed beneath the great stone rose, was not much like that.  The
woods on Tomodachi were airy and open, with tall, leafy hardwood trees
mixed with stately conifers and a lot of pleasant clearings.
        This forest was deeper and much darker, almost all black
growth, the trees not quite crowded but close enough together that
they blocked out direct sunlight.  It didn't feel brooding or
threatening, though; more like a sanctuary.  It gave an impression of
peace and protection.  And, Anne noted as she took a deep breath, it
smelled wonderful.
        She turned to take more of it in, then drew up short with a
gasp.
        There before her was the base of a great spiral staircase,
wrought in the same white stone as the gate behind her.  She could
have sworn it hadn't been there before, but there it was now,
starting at the ground and completing three full turns before
disappearing through the canopy of the Forest of Secrets.
        Anne turned to Saionji.  "Is that... ?"
        He nodded.  "Remember the painting in my room?  Those stairs
lead to that place."
        "How... how many are there?"
        Saionji smiled.
        "Let's find out," he said.  "I recall from Carida that you
were a pretty fast runner last spring.  Let's see how much Tenjou's
good cooking has slowed you down."

        By the time Anne and Saionji came down from the clouds,
Kaitlyn was in the common room on the first floor of East Hall.  East
had originally been one of the Academy's four main student residences,
but it had been abandoned at some point in the past, around the same
time that Nemuro Hall burned down.  The next time anyone had lived in
it was during the Grand Tournament, when Utena had been lodged there
to separate her from the rest of the student population.
        After her time as a student, the building had been reserved by
the Student Council for special uses.  Corwin had stayed in it while
building Cephiro's World-Engine, and now it was the Prince's
unofficial residence when she visited the campus.  Any of her friends
were welcome to crash there as well, and so the Valiant's company
stayed there every summer during their swing through the Tenth World.
        As her two 'real' students (as opposed to the ones she'd only
temporarily inherited from her father) entered the common room, Kate
paused in her current activity (which was giving her pet tiger a good
sound scruffling) and looked up with a smile.
        Juniper was flushed and rumpled as if from a heavy workout,
and Saionji was smiling with that special sort of serenity he always
had after a particularly rewarding session in the dojo.  Obviously
they'd just been working and things had gone well, but there was a
special light in Anne's eyes that Kaitlyn couldn't initially read.
        "Y-you look like you've h-h-had a g-good time," Kate observed
with a smile.
        Anne grinned.  "It was incredible," she said.  "Saionji took
me to the dueling floor.  I've... I've never felt a place with that
kind of... -presence-."
        Kaitlyn nodded.  "All the p-p-power that's been w-wielded
there has l-left its m-m-mark," she said.  "I'm g-glad you had a
g-good morning."
        Anne laughed.  "I understand I should congratulate you," she
said.
        Kate reddened, still smiling.  "W-well," she said, "w-we're
still w-w-working on the d-details, but... th-thanks."
        Saionji sat down in one of the room's armchairs and chuckled.
"Azalynn must be pleased."
        Kaitlyn looked mildly surprised.  "You kn-know," she said, "I
haven't s-seen her yet t-today."

        That night's show at the Tenjou Amphitheatre was everything
Kaitlyn had been hoping it would be, and more.  There was a powerful
new arc of energy running through the band, and it energized the
crowd, which energized the band still further.  It was a night when
everything clicked, and the Art of Noise hadn't had such a night in
too long.
        From Tenjou Academy, the tour hit the Shrine Cities of
Cephiro - Urabe, Shalhara, and Hidama - and then swung through
Tenchuu, the city dedicated to the High Priestess, before finishing up
in Zantoku, the bustling, steam-driven capital of Autozam.  There were
no further sightings of the mysterious black Thunderbird which had
menaced Wakaba, nor anything else that could be called trouble.
        The band lost part of its supporting cast in Zantoku, where
Jean-Jacques Ragulin, former nemesis of Kaitlyn and lately a
journeyman bluesman, found himself enraptured by the vibrant local
blues scene.  After profusely thanking Kaitlyn and her friends for
giving him the opportunity to find himself in such a place, Ragulin
stayed behind to hone his craft among the finest bluesmen of the Tenth
World.
        Thus, the Art of Noise's battered tour roared back into
Midgard on the tenth of August one guest star short and with only five
dates remaining.  Juri had done her best, and in terms of organization
her best was damn good, but even she could only do so much to salvage
a tour as frequently and traumatically interrupted as this year's.
        All the same, it had to be said that the Valiant's crew were
really somewhat grateful for the early end this year's tour promised.
Many of them had other things they wanted to get to, and while they
wouldn't have dreamed of cutting the tour short or bailing before it
was done, they all felt it was just as well that they weren't staying
out until right before school resumed this year.


                   BAGATELLE No. 5 in B-FLAT MINOR
                      THURSDAY, AUGUST 13, 2409
                             IPS VALIANT
                              DEEP SPACE

        One of those most grateful for that small favor was Kozue
Kaoru.  She had been unusually quiet after Corwin's departure.  At
first, her shipmates took that to mean that she was upset over his
leaving, and rightfully so - but the energy which revived the spirits
of the other members of the crew after the Tenjou Academy show didn't
seem to touch her.
        Kozue remained withdrawn, opting out of parties, even skipping
about half the shows.  When she wasn't driving the ship, she stayed
mostly in her room.
        She was there now, in fact, as the ship headed for its next
destination on automatic.  The tour was nearly finished, with only two
dates remaining.  They would make a second stop at Kane's World on the
way out to Ishiyama, where they would drop off Kanna Kirishima and
play the Imperial Theatre.  It was supposed to have been the cap to a
great tour.  Instead, it looked like winding up as more of a relief
than anything else.
        Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan stood outside Kozue's cabin,
hesitating - not a common state of affairs for her.  Then she seemed
to gather herself slightly before pressing the button next to the
door.
        For a second, there was no response; then the door opened and
Kozue's voice said, "Come in."
        Azalynn was struck by the casualness with which she said it.
Kozue didn't sound like a person brooding in solitude.  Could I be
reading the situation wrong? she wondered as she entered.
        Kozue was lying on her bunk in gym shorts and tank top, her
short blue hair tousled.  Clearly, she wasn't up for the day yet,
which was a point in favor of Azalynn's original suspicion - it was
nearly two in the afternoon.  Still, she didn't look unrested or
upset.  She was just stretched out, her slim shoulders propped against
a doubled pillow, reading a book.
        "Something you need, Azalynn?" Kozue asked, her voice still
casual.  She stuck a folded piece of note paper into the book and put
it down, then sat up, turned to face the puzzled Dantrovian, and
folded her legs under her.
        Now Azalynn got her first look into Kozue's eyes, and she knew
that, as casual as the blue-haired girl seemed, her suspicions had
been right.
        "Actually," she said, "I stopped by to see if there was
anything -you- need.  We haven't seen you much since Jezebel," she
added, diplomatically evading the real cause of Kozue's withdrawal,
"and we're all getting kind of worried."
        Kozue looked surprised; Azalynn had to admire her acting
skills.  "Worried?  About me?  Nah.  I'm fine.  No problem."
        Azalynn looked dubious.  "You're sure," she said.
        "'Course I'm sure," Kozue replied.  "I'm on top of the world.
Just been in the mood to do a little reading," she said, gesturing to
the stack of books on her bedside table.
        Azalynn went and looked at the stack, glancing over the titles
and hmming appreciatively.  Judging by the covers and titles, the
books were mainly aviation memoirs from Earth's early pre-Contact
aeronautical period - not Azalynn's cup of tea, but she figured Kozue
had probably picked up the taste from Corwin by way of his father.  He
was, after all, from about that same era, give or take a little.
        "I mean, why would I be having a problem?" Kozue continued
rhetorically.  She flopped down on her back and went on in a calm,
conversational tone, "I only threw away the only decent relationship I
ever had for no particular reason.  Nothing wrong with that."
        Azalynn sat down on the edge of the bed.  "Would you like to
talk about it?" she asked.
        "Not much to talk about, really," said Kozue, still in that
same straightforward voice.  "I heard Corwin was leaving, so I tracked
him down and broke up with him.  Well, actually," she added offhandedly, 
"I screwed him first - that was tactful of me - then broke up with him.
You know.  Save him the trouble."
        Azalynn tilted her head, looking puzzled.  "Trouble?"
        "Yeah.  Well, you know - the whole me-and-him thing was
accidental anyway.  I knew when we started that it couldn't last.   I
just thought I'd have a little more time to figure out a way to get
out of the way gracefully."
        "Out of the way of what?"
        "Come on, Azalynn," Kozue snapped, propping herself
half-sitting with her elbows.  "You knew before anybody else.  Don't
make me come right out and say it."
        Azalynn nodded slowly, saying nothing, and Kozue let herself
back down again.  Now there were cracks in her nonchalant facade, a
slight catch in her voice, as she went on,
        "I'm not sure exactly when I realized it - probably when he
came to me and told me about what Anthy wanted - but it occurred to me
that the time was coming when he was going to have to decide for
good.  And when I thought about it, I realized that I could have him
if I wanted.  You know - forever."
        Kozue's voice became quieter, so that she was almost talking
to herself, as she went on, "All I had to do was stay with him.  He'd
never abandon me, not after what I've been through in the past.  It
isn't in him to betray a lover like that.  He'd give up the chance to
realize his life's greatest dream... after waiting year after
starcrossed year, he'd open his hand and let a life with Utena slip
through it... if I stayed."
        She closed her eyes, letting the moisture that had gathered in
them run down the sides of her face to soak into the hair behind her
ears, and whispered, "I couldn't do that.  Not to him.  Not after he's
been so good to me.  Even if he never said a word, even if he never
showed a trace of sorrow, I'd know.  Every time I looked at him, I'd
think, He's here with me and he belongs somewhere else.  So... I
opened my hand."
        She made a corresponding gesture, then closed the hand again,
rested it on her chest, and said almost inaudibly, "And broke my own
heart."  Then, in a slightly louder, bitterer voice, she added, "So
you'll excuse me if I'm not feeling terribly fucking social lately."
        Azalynn said something almost inaudible in the lilting,
song-like language of her homeworld, and then put her own hand over
Kozue's.
        She didn't ask, as Kozue was half-expecting her to ask, "What
makes you so sure that chance is coming to him?"  But then, it stood
to reason that Azalynn wouldn't need to ask, she realized.  Kozue had
said it herself - Azalynn had known before anyone else.
        What she said instead surprised Kozue:
        "Your brother is worried about you.  He knows none of this."
        Anger spiked through Kozue's chest - how could Azalynn, who
understood everything so clearly, fail to grasp something as simple
and straightforward as that?  She sat up, pushing off the Dantrovian's
hand, turned to face her, and snapped,
        "Damn right he knows none of this!  I've burdened Miki with
-enough- of my little meltdowns.  He has his own life now, one that
just got... uh, complicated, to boot.  I'm damned if I'll mess that up
for him with my stupid 'needs'."  She finished the statement with a
self-mocking little sneer.
        Azalynn met this with her usual equanimity, shaking her head
patiently.  "You can't burden Miki with anything you tell him, Kozue.
He's your brother - your mal'thani.  Have you learned -nothing- in the
last three years?"
        Kozue gave her a confused look.  "A few things," she allowed,
"but not what a mal'thani is."
        Azalynn chuckled.  "Sorry.  Getting a little ahead of myself.
We Dantrovians are born in groups, and we draw a distinction between
those born with us and those who simply have the same parents."  She
looked mildly chagrined.  "The closest Standard translation of
mal'thani is probably 'littermate', but that doesn't have the best
connotations it could have... "
        Despite herself, Kozue snickered.  "No, not particularly," she
said.  "But I think I understand."
        "The distinction of a mal'thani is complex and hard to
summarize," Azalynn said, "but the old saying that comes close is,
'You would suffer for a brother - you would die for a mal'thani."
        Kozue nodded, her face sober and thoughtful.
        "Miki has been a student of our ways," Azalynn went on.  "He
understands that.  He says nothing, because he knows you have your
reasons and you don't see things the way he does; but it hurts him
terribly that you don't bring your troubles to him when you so
obviously have them."
        Kozue sighed.  "I can't, Azalynn.  I just can't.  Don't you
understand?  If I went to him and dumped all this on his doorstep...
he's -busy- right now."  Her cheeks colored slightly and she couldn't
resist a wry, "(The lucky -bastard-,)" before sobering again and
continuing, "I won't mess that up for him."
        Azalynn nodded.  "You're right, you won't - because Kate and
Juri will understand that he has to help you.  Kate has brothers of
her own, you know - not mal'thani, but in her family, it's all much
the same.  And Juri, well... she knows him best, after you, and she's
waited a long time."  The Dantrovian gave a wry smile and said, "A
little while longer while he helps his sister through a broken heart
won't kill her.
        "Besides," Azalynn went on as Kozue opened her mouth to
protest, "do you think he can concentrate properly on what he's doing,
knowing that you're in pain and won't turn to him for help?  You're
really doing him no favor by suffering alone."
        Kozue thought about that for a second, then turned her eyes
downward and murmured, "I'm not sure he -can- help me this time."
        Azalynn chuckled.  "Do you have such little faith in him?"
        Kozue's face went red.  "It's not that," she said.  "It's
just... I... "  She trailed off, unable to put the thought into words.
        The Dantrovian got up, patted her shoulder, and said, "You
might be surprised.  Come on - let's go talk to him."

        A couple of hours later, as Utena was starting to wonder where
her helmsman and navigator were - not that there were duty hours on
the Valiant, per se, but she hadn't seen either in a while and was
getting curious - Sub-Commander Klaang stirred himself from his game
of "Battlecruiser Vengeance: Columns of Death" to report,
        "Starship approaching on intercept course, joH'wI'."
        Utena turned in her chair.  "ID?"
        "Processing now," Klaang replied, peering into his scope.
"She's a B'rel-class scout, but the warp power signature is Utopia
Planitian, so she must have been WDF-built.  She'll be in ID
transponder range presently... ah!"  The Klingon straightened and
turned to his captain.  "It's Lovely Angel," he said.
        Utena raised an eyebrow.  "What's Yuri doing all the way out
here?"
        "You'll be able to ask her yourself in a moment," Klaang said,
raising a fingertip to his comm earpiece.  "She's hailing."
        "Put her on," Utena said, and when Klaang indicated that the
connection was open, Utena said, "Hey, Yuri - what can we do for you?"
        "Hi, Utena," replied the voice of Yuri Daniels, the IPO Deputy
Chief.  "If you don't mind a short delay, can you heave to for a
minute?  Two to beam aboard."
        "Sure thing.  Two to beam aboard," Utena replied.  Without
Kozue at her station, Utena patched the helm across to one of the
configurable panels by her own conn - not suitable for combat
maneuvering or docking, but fine for just getting the ship around -
and brought the Valiant out of warp.
        "Thanks, Utena," Yuri replied.  "And can you have Lensman
Krummell, Agent Hyatt, and Constable Barlow meet us in the transporter
room? I'm afraid I'm going to be taking them away from you early this
year, but with so little time left in the tour... "
        Janice, sitting at the security station, quirked an eyebrow,
but said only, "Permission to depart station, Captain?"
        "Granted, Constable," Utena said.  "Looks like everyone's
leaving early this year.  Have a good time with... whatever you're
doing," she added.  "See you later."
        After returning the sentiment, Janice was in the lift before
she could tell if the captain had sighed, or if it was merely the hiss
of the doors sliding shut.
        The redheaded Ragolian sighed herself; it had been a pretty
depressing summer, and she was heading back to her senior year at NAU
wondering just what the hell was wrong with the galaxy at large,
instead of being pleasantly relaxed about her prospects.
        The lift door hissed again one level down, and Neal fell into
step with her as she emerged.  He looked about as glum as she felt.
        "Guess you heard that," she said to the Niogan.
        He nodded.  "Hyatt too," he said.  "She's on her way as well."
        "I don't want to go push papers in New Avalon," Janice
grumbled.  "I'm going to be pushing enough paper with my xenopsych
thesis."
        "Well," Neal said philosophically, "we'd have plenty of time
to go out on dates... "
        "You, Kraut?!  Dating?!" a voice boomed from the transporter
stage.  Janice's head shot up; they'd stopped when she wasn't paying
attention.  "Did the world end when I wasn't fuckin' looking?"
        "No, Cage, the world ends when -you- find a woman who'll put
up with you," Neal replied, a sudden grin breaking over his clouded
features.  "What've you been up to this summer without me, anyhow?"
        Janice's first glimpse of Detective Inspector Xander Cage, IPO
CID, revealed a truly imposing amount of bald head, followed by a vast
expanse of tattooed flesh, sculpted and gleaming in a way she'd
thought was the sole purview of holovid stars.  He was wearing a
disreputable-looking wifebeater and worn Martian fatigue pants with
shitkicker boots; he had a shaggy object that might once have been the
hide of a Wookiee slung over one shoulder.
        Cage stood about even with Neal's own six feet, two inches;
the sole difference came in terms of build.  Where Neal was stocky and
solid, the CID spy was chiseled and athletic.  Both men were far from
classically handsome (Neal had been diplomatically described as "your
typical Teutonic troll" by Gunnr Brynjelfr during the weekly
shoot-and-bitch down on the Valiant's range once), but each was
arresting in his own right.
        If I'm going to have to put up with both of them, she thought
to herself, at least the view will be worth it.
        She grinned and put out a hand.  "Hi," she said.  "Janice
Barlow."
        "Xander Cage," the other man said with a charmingly crooked
half-smile, taking her hand and offering a solid shake.  "Friends call
me X."  He angled his gleaming dome at Neal.  "Kraut calls me
Fuckhead."
        "Only when you're being one," Neal said, exchanging a few
slaps on the back with Cage.  "Good to see you, man.  You get that
errand done for me?"
        "Sure thing, dude," Cage replied.  "Signed, sealed, and
delivered.  Not that you're gonna be in New Avalon any time soon to
see it."
        Janice glanced at them inquisitively, but the two men said
nothing further.  Neal turned to Yuri, who was watching the scene with
a look of private amusement.  "Ma'am."
        "Lensman," she acknowledged with a smile.  "Always good to see
you, Neal.  And Janice, likewise.  I hear the situation between you
two has changed a bit since last I saw you."
        "Not so much changed," Janice replied with a rueful smile.
"More like we woke up and realized what the situation was in the first
place."
        Yuri laughed.  "Ask Zoner about that some day," she said.
"Now, we're just waiting for Agent Hyatt, and I do have some business
with Kaitlyn while I'm here, but let me ask you two...
        "... how do you feel about Tomodachi for your next posting?"
        Janice and Neal blinked.  Cage smirked.  Yuri tucked her
portfolio under her arm and smiled beatifically.

        "(What the hell's on Tomodachi?)" Janice murmured to Neal as
they trooped down the Lovely Angel's narrow central corridor toward
the control room.
        "(I dunno, besides about three-quarters of our peer group,)"
Neal replied.
        "(OK, well, it's probably not an undercover mission, then,)"
Janice whispered.
        Constable Barlow's instincts were not often wrong, but this
time they were dead wrong.

        Captain Utena Tenjou had a lot on her mind besides the erosion
of her ship's company (which was, even as she pondered it, making
plans to get worse).  She was, after all, the acting fleet commander
of the International Police Space Force, and, as such, responsible for
the ultimate disposition of thirty-five starships.  Well, really more
like thirty-two; the newest Defiant- and Steamrunner-class destroyers
were in flight testing, not subject to operational orders except in an
extreme emergency, and there was one Steamrunner assigned to Special
Services and so outside the normal IPSF chain of command.
        Even so, that was thirty-one more ships than Utena had ever
commanded before, and she was doing a lot of thinking about what she
had gotten herself into by accepting the job.  The most reassuring
thing was that the ships of the IPSF operated largely autonomously -
the destroyers, which made up the bulk of the fleet, were assigned
patrol areas and then operated within them at their commanders'
discretion.
        All the same, it promised to be an eventful autumn.
        She turned in her seat and addressed her science officer.
        "Klaang," she said, "when the tour is over and I lose what's
left of Valiant's crew, do you think I should see about bringing in a
replacement crew, or transfer my flag to Challenger?"
        "I would say the latter, joH'wI'," Klaang replied without
hesitation.  "The IPSF has powerful enemies, and -you- have powerful
enemies.  I'm frankly surprised we haven't had trouble in that regard
by now.  When the time comes that those two facts converge into a big
problem, it's best if you have the biggest, most powerful platform
available to face it."  The beefy Klingon smiled and patted his sensor
console.  "Not that the one wishes to impugn the might of our Valiant
in any way, you understand, but... "
        Utena nodded.  "Yeah, I see where you're coming from.  I guess
I'm just a bit nervous about it.  I mean, that's a -big- ship.  It has
a crew of over 500, and they're used to the command structure they
have.  Getting a little crew like Valiant's to take me and my command
seriously is one thing... "
        Klaang's smile broadened a bit more.  "You are no longer the
girl you were when Irregular Projects began, Captain," he said.  "You
are a grown woman and a warrior of galactic renown.  Moreover, you are
a Lensman now, and the Admiral's hand-picked successor.  You could
transfer your flag to vathKesek's ship and the crew would take you
seriously."
        Utena blinked.  "I don't know if I'd say -successor-," she
said.
        "Replacement, then.  Whichever - Challenger's crew will follow
you, and gladly.  Trust me.  I know them; for nine months of the year
I'm one of them."
        "Yeah, me too," said T'Vek, who until that moment had sat
silently at the weapons console.  Now she pivoted in her chair,
grinning, put her hands behind her head, leaned back, stretched out,
and said, "I was still on Challenger when the Chief took his leave,
you know.  We were all hoping you'd come aboard directly, though we
understood why you didn't.  Lore was crushed - he can't wait to see
you in action."
        Utena chuckled.  "I guess I'd better start studying, then,"
she said.  "Be embarrassing not to know what the ship can and can't do
when I take it over."
        T'Vek folded her arms and grinned again.  "There's nothing
Challenger can't do."

        Kozue Kaoru sat in an agony of anxiety, staring at a closed
door and wondering just what was happening on the other side.  No,
worse - IMAGINING just what was happening on the other side.  She
considered several scenarios, each more dramatic and unpleasant than
the last.  Tears?  Recriminations?  Some kind of awful, irrevocable
division?
        I should have kept my mouth shut, she told herself angrily.  I
should have just shut up and waited for Azalynn to go away.  Why did I
let her talk me into this?  Why am I screwing up Miki's life again?
        She seriously considered running, as she sat there eyeing the
door and waiting.  It occurred to her that she could go to the
shuttlebay, climb aboard Getter Arrow, and ask the bridge to let her
out, and that request would probably be granted.  By the time Azalynn
or Miki realized she was gone... 
        The door opened.  Kaitlyn, Juri, and Azalynn returned to the
conference room from their consultation in the chief engineer's
office.  Reflexively, Kozue stood up, trying not to look as nervous as
she felt.
        Before anyone could say anything, Kozue decided to pre-empt
them.  "Look, you guys," she said, "forget it, OK?  It was a dumb idea
anyway, and I - "
        "Kozue," said Juri, looking mildly irritated.
        "... yes?" Kozue said after skidding to a halt.
        "Be quiet and listen," Juri told her.  "It's taken us a long
time to bring together what we have today - a long time and a lot of
it needlessly wasted.  We've a long way to go before we can really say
it's working, and a lot of work to do to define all the boundaries and
achieve a balance that works for all of us."
        "I know," Kozue said.  "That's why I said forget it.  I let
Azalynn talk me into - "
        Rather than try to hush her again, Juri just smiled very
slightly and overrode her, somehow without raising her voice.  "Now
that we've closed the initial circle, as it were, a little time to
regroup and think wouldn't be amiss," she said.
        Kozue blinked.  "So... you mean... "
        "W-we mean," said Kaitlyn softly, "that we'll m-m-manage."
Then she smiled, a little sadly, a little shyly, and gave the
surprised blue-haired girl a hug.
        As she held Kozue, Kate murmured in her ear, "I unders-stand
w-w-what it's l-like to... to n-need as you do.  I w-wouldn't deny you
that."
        Kozue didn't know what to say.  After taking a couple of
seconds to recover from the surprise, she hugged Kate back, and all
she could muster for words was a barely audible "Thank you."
        Then she excused herself, sniffling a bit, and went to pack
her things.
        The three women left in the office looked around at each other
for a minute, and then Juri sat down at Corwin's desk and let out a
most uncharacteristic sigh.
        "This tour is cursed," she observed with something like dark
amusement.
        "Mm," Kaitlyn replied thoughtfully.  She perched herself on
the corner of the desk and added, "It certainly seems to be hitting
more than its share of snags.  It's just as well it's nearly over."
She turned to Azalynn.  "W-what will we d-do without you?" she asked,
only half in jest.
        Azalynn smiled.  "You'll manage," she said.  "Anyway, I'm not
just running off and leaving you in the lurch.  Speaking of, I'd
better get arrangements made before we leave."  Becoming more serious,
she added, "Thank you both.  Without your agreement I couldn't have
done this, and... well, I had a Plan B, but it probably wouldn't have
worked."
        Juri smiled philosophically.  "One thing that's always been
constant about Miki and me," she said.  "In all our years of
friendship we've never done anything the easy way."  She shrugged.
"Why start now?"
        Kate chuckled and ran a hand through her lover's orange
curls.  Azalynn hugged and kissed them both, thanked them again, and
promised to meet up with them on either Ishiyama or Tomodachi,
depending on where they were when the Festival of the Falling Leaves
ended back on Dantrov.
        "Well," said Kate once she was gone.
        "Well," Juri concurred, sighing.
        "Now I have to figure out how to have a band with no
guitarists," Kaitlyn observed.  "I guess I'd better get started."
        "Kaitlyn... " Juri said as Kate stepped into the hall.
        Kate paused and half-turned back in the doorway.  "Mm?"
        "Are you really all right with this?" Juri asked.  She wasn't
looking at her lover as she spoke.  She sat in Corwin's desk chair,
arms folded beneath her bosom, long legs crossed at the ankle, head
bowed, eyes closed - the picture of a woman in a pensive and not
necessarily good mood.
        "Yes," Kate answered without hesitation.  "Yes, I am."  She
turned a little more, putting a hand on the doorframe.  "Are you?"
        Juri opened her eyes, but didn't answer for a long moment.
Then she turned to meet Kate's eyes, sighed, looked down again, and
said, "I think so."
        Kate re-entered the office, perched herself by Juri's chair
again, and put her hand on the redhead's shoulder.
        "The timing could be better," she admitted softly, "but there
are a lot of things about this summer a person could say that about."
She leaned down and kissed Juri tenderly on the cheek.  "It'll work
out," she said.
        Juri reached up and covered Kate's hand on her shoulder with
her own.  "I know," she said.  "Really, I'm all right.  I'm just...
tired."
        Kate nodded, hopped down, and held out a hand.
        "Let's go to bed, then," she said.
        "In the middle of the afternoon?" Juri asked with a wry
smile, glancing sidelong at Kaitlyn with her emerald eyes half-hooded.
        Kate shrugged, grinning.  "It's not like we've got anywhere we
need to be today," she said.
        Juri considered that, then took the offered hand and rose
smoothly to her feet.
        "What about your latest band reorganization?" she asked as
they left the office together.
        "Everything will be just as messed up tomorrow," Kate replied
with an optimism that belied the words.
        "Ah," said Juri philosophically, and the door closed on the
empty office.

   /*  L. van Beethoven  "Bagatelle for Piano in G, Op. 119/6"  */

                     Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
                              presented
                UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT
                   - Symphony of the Sword No. 4 -
               Five Bagatelles in Various Keys, Op. 49

                               The Cast
                       (in order of appearance)
                           Corwin Ravenhair
                             Utena Tenjou
                             Anthy Tenjou
                           Gunnr Brynjelfr
                           Kaitlyn Hutchins
                              Anne Cross
                        Brunnhilde Silverspear
                             Kozue Kaoru
                          Carmela Sunderland
                           Wakaba Shinohara
                           Kyouichi Saionji
                             Heinz Corben
                              Miki Kaoru
                            Juri Arisugawa
                           Eiko Kageshoujo
                       Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan
                          Klaang tai-Kalaan
                             Yuri Daniels
                            Janice Barlow
                            Neal Krummell
                                T'Vek

                           and introducing
                              VIN DIESEL
                            as Xander Cage

                        Disorganized Composer
                         Benjamin D. Hutchins

                             Spy Wrangler
                            Janice Barlow

                             Tuning Fork
                              Anne Cross

                       With the usual help from
                          The Usual Suspects

                       The Symphony will return

                         E P U (colour) 2003