I have a message from another time... Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presents UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT - SYMPHONY OF THE SWORD - Interlude at Bancroft Tower No. 1 in D Minor Benjamin D. Hutchins (c) 2001 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited 12:32 AM EASTERN TIME THURSDAY, MARCH 17, 2405 WORCESTER PREPARATORY INSTITUTE WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS, EARTH Utena Tenjou sat at her desk in room 412, Morgan Hall. She had her forehead propped up on one hand, fingers combed through her pink hair; the other held a pen which, at the moment, was doing little more than tapping irritatedly against a page in a notebook. Her blue eyes narrowed as she re-read the passage in her calculus textbook again, wondering if it would start making sense if she did that often enough. She should have been in bed over an hour ago, she knew that, but she had a stubborn nature, and she didn't want to go into class tomorrow and admit that she hadn't been able to crack it. What she really needed was for Miki to explain it to her - he had a way with figures that made them make sense to her - but of course Miki wasn't anywhere to be found tonight. (Probably off dancing naked in the Higgins House gardens with Azalynn or something,) she thought uncharitably. Kate would have been able to help, too, but she'd gone away for the rest of the week, to attend some kind of conference on music theory in Paris. There was a knock at the door. Utena scowled and tried to concentrate. (Maybe if I ignore them they'll go away. That's one thing I'll say for being trapped alone in an alien world. Himemiya would never have put up with leaving a knocked door unanswered.) Cold comfort, she admitted, but at times like this, she would take what she could get. The knocking continued. Utena continued trying to ignore it. Finally, it stopped, and, muffled by the door, she heard a voice say despairingly, "Ah, slag it!" Blinking, she jumped up, nearly dumping her calculus book on the floor. She knew that voice, and it was unusual enough to be hearing it today that it bore immediate investigation, homework or no. She dashed to the door, yanked it open, and thrust her head and shoulders into the corridor. The person who had been knocking had given up, turned around, and started back toward the main stairs when, startled by the sound of her jerking the door open, he turned again to face 412. "Corwin!" Utena cried. "What are you doing here?" Relief washed over Corwin's face, which looked curiously pinched and pale tonight. "Oh, Utena," he said. "You -are- still up." "I was trying to work," she said. "Thought you were one of those damn Campus Crusade for Kalidor weirdos passing out tracts or something. We've been getting a lot of that kind of stuff lately." She blinked at him, noticing more and more the strangeness of the look on his face as she looked at him. "What's wrong?" Corwin looked around and said, "Can we go someplace and talk?" Utena regarded him, a bit perplexed, for a moment, then said, "Sure. Let me get my shoes." They walked up the hill to Bancroft Tower in a pregnant silence. Utena chewed the situation over in her mind, wondering what on Earth could be wrong. -Something- had to be wrong; Corwin never acted so subdued. His visits were always full of bonhomie and fun, never this weird sort of skittish gloom. She'd last seen him not four days before, on Sunday afternoon - had spent the entire week before that in his company, learning to drive from him, his mother, and his uncle on Tomodachi - and he'd been fine that whole time. Besides, he never came on Wednesdays; it took his ship almost five hours to get from New Avalon to Earth, much too long for a weeknight visit unless he wasn't planning on showing up for classes at Crescent Heights Middle School the next day. Something out of the ordinary must have happened to make his father let him come here on a school night - or to make him come without permission. He walked ahead of her, hands thrust into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders slumped. When they reached the Tower, he looked around, then went to the electrolocked door to the lower level and picked it with a confounder. Bancroft Tower was supposed to be off-limits to the public, and so it probably was to most of them, but after Azalynn had found Saionji up here last Christmas, the Institute Band Geeks Federation had annexed it as their own private preserve. Ed Tivrusky had provided the confounder hack that would grant them access to the inside at any time; Azalynn and Amanda had, in the dead of night one night, managed to get a bunch of cushions up here (the barbell-shaped room being too eccentrically shaped for a mattress). Kate had contributed a set of her acoustic dampers, and from Devlin had come a fluorescent lantern and a photoscreen to keep the light from showing in the windows. Moose, ever attentive to the creature comforts, had brought up a box full of blankets and thermochem heater packs. The Tower Room, as the Federation members called it, had many uses. One, with the cushions and the privacy equipment, was obvious, but there were others. Kate came up here to compose when she found her Muse in such a delicate state that she could tolerate nothing but total privacy and peace. So, sometimes, did Miki. Ed and Ein crashed here when they couldn't find anyplace else. Juri had been known to come up to brood, Saionji or Amanda to meditate, Azalynn to sing the solitary Song for the Moon of Blood, Devlin to... well, no one was really sure what Devlin did. Utena had only been here once before, and that during the day. Then, the room had been a fairly bright little chamber, even with its small barred windows. Now it was gloomy, the shadows clinging to the walls even when Corwin switched the photoscreen and lantern on. The atmosphere of the place made her a bit uncomfortable, and she wondered why Corwin had brought her here. Surely he didn't think she would... no, that was silly. He wouldn't look upset if he were planning to attempt something like that. Apprehensive, perhaps. Nervous, wound up... but not strained. And anyway, he wouldn't do it this way. He prowled the room, making certain everything was still in place, and powered up the sound dampers. It was a warm night for March, warm enough that there was no need to crack one of the chempacks and heat the place up. Instead he took off his shoes, sat down on the heap of cushions, then let himself flop down onto his back. Utena frowned. Maybe he -was- going to... Then he gave a big, deep, shuddering sigh, and the notion was banished instantly from her mind. She went to the other side of the pile, sat down, kicked off her own shoes, pulled her legs up under her, and asked him bluntly, "So what's the matter?" Corwin looked up at the shadowed stone ceiling, watching the green light on the damper mounted there blink, and spoke as if to it. "There's this girl in my class," he began, and Utena suppressed an urge to smile. Something about this situation was pricking her thumbs, warning her that it was nothing as simple as Corwin overreacting to some teenage foible or other. She kept silent and let him talk. "Her name's Kala," he said. "She's nice. I like her. Not in a huge serious way, you know, just... she's nice. Fun to hang out with. Except she's been sad lately... her parents broke up a couple months ago. Her father threw her mother out of the house or something. I never got all the details." He gave another shuddering sigh and wiped a hand down his face, then went on, "And now I guess I never will." Utena didn't like the sound of that. "Well," Corwin continued, "today at school she asked me to come by her place tonight, maybe help her out with her pre-eng homework. She wants to be a mecha engineer, and knowing how much I like mecha, I was the obvious choice. But I had a classical lit quiz today, and I didn't really feel like going out, so I told her, Nah, Kala, some other time, OK? I'm just gonna go home and veg tonight. And she said, OK, 'cause she was like that. You know. Nice. Understanding. And I didn't go. "And tonight," Corwin went on in an unnaturally collected sort of voice, "her mother came to the house while she and her father were having dinner. She had a blaster." He paused, his eyes suddenly glittering in the lantern light, and he said in a brittle voice, "She killed them." For the first time since they'd left Morgan Hall, he turned his head and looked at Utena, and his eyes overflowed down his cheeks as he repeated brokenly, "She -killed- them!" Feeling a heavy chill settle in the center of her chest, Utena reached out and took one of his hands. "Oh, Corwin," she said softly. "If I'd gone over, she'd still be alive." He raised tormented eyes. "She's dead... because I was too lazy to help her with her homework. It's like... like -I- killed her." "No you didn't," Utena protested, slipping down next to him and pulling him up into her arms, his head below her chin. "What kind of talk is that? You had no way of knowing her mother would do something as crazy as that! You said yourself you didn't know why her parents broke up. It might have been anything." "But she's dead," Corwin replied, "and she wouldn't be... if I had gone to help her... " A sob racked him, then another. "... But I didn't... because... I didn't -feel- like it!" Utena shook her head. "No, Corwin. Look at me." He leaned his head back to train his blurry eyes on her face. "Even if you had been there, what would you have done? Kala's mother might have killed you too." "I could have done something. I'm a -Valkyrie-," he insisted bitterly. "We're supposed to be pretty good in that kind of situation. Besides... she probably wouldn't have been there. Most likely we'd have gone out for dinner," Corwin went on. "There's this burger place we both... liked... and I have a car. We'd probably have gone to the park or the library or someplace to study. She... she'd have lost her father, but... she'd still be alive." Touched by the nobility of his sentiment, if not its practicality, Utena told him, "Probably? Most likely? Corwin, you can't predict the future, even if you -are- your mother's son. You can't blame yourself for not knowing what would happen, with no warning signs, no information. Even a prince can't ride to the rescue if he doesn't know anyone's in distress." "All my life I've been trained to be a hero," Corwin said. "I never felt intimidated by the idea of living up to my parents' examples. I always felt up to the challenge. First male Valkyrie? No problem. Cavalier of Two Worlds? Why not? Saving the world is fun. My dad does it in his spare time. But me... I can't even save a classmate from a regular old garden-variety crazy with a gun." "Corwin," said Utena, a trifle sharply. "-Listen- to me. There was no way you could have known! That's what makes life so hard sometimes, you know - the fact that, try as we might, we can't predict all the consequences of our actions. We have to make up our minds based on what we know and what we think might happen, and hope for the best. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes it doesn't. That's just the luck of the draw. Do you want to hear a story?" "Sure," he said bleakly, letting his head fall against her chest and feeling the brass of her top button cool under his cheek. She played idly with his thick black forelock as she spoke. "Before I met your sister," Utena said, "I went to another school, far away from here. At that school, there was a contest to see who was the best swordfighter in the student body. The student council were all involved in it. I thought it was stupid, but then I ended up involved in it myself, anyway." "Why?" asked Corwin. "To help somebody I thought needed it," she said. "I figured protecting the weak was part of being a prince, you know, and that's what I wanted to do. I saw one of the duelists - Saionji, as a matter of fact - mistreating a girl and challenged him. No real reason for it - I wasn't interested in their dumb contest. I just wanted to knock him down a peg or two for slapping his girlfriend around. Except... it turned out she wasn't his girlfriend. She was the prize of the contest." Corwin raised an eyebrow at her, his grief momentarily forgotten. "You're making this up." "No, I swear, it's true," Utena replied. "Ask him. Or Miki, or Juri - they were on the student council, they were involved in it too." Corwin shook his head and mused, "And I'd never have figured Saionji for the type who'd beat up a helpless girl... " "He isn't, anymore," Utena assured him. "He... wasn't playing with a full deck back in those days. Ask him about it sometime, he'll tell you. He's over it now. Anyway, this is the weird part: they called the girl the 'Rose Bride', and whoever had won the last duel was engaged to her. Whoever was the winner when the cycle of duels was over would be married to her." "That's... bizarre." Utena chuckled dryly. "You're telling me?" "So... did you win?" "Yeah, I whipped his butt. And the Rose Bride moved in with me and started following me around, doing things for me. She said she had to obey whoever was currently engaged to her. Do what they wanted her to do, not do what they didn't. Her own feelings didn't enter into it. It was ridiculous. It made me sick, to think that in this day and age, something like this could be done to a girl, especially one so inoffensive. So many people seemed to hate her, and for what? She was sweet and kind. She didn't deserve what she was getting, and yet she never complained. I couldn't understand it." "Did you ever figure it out?" "Eventually," she said. "It turned out to be even stranger than it seemed, and that's really too long a story to tell right now. The point is, I had no way of knowing that I was involving myself in something so complicated, but once I'd made my decision and involved myself, I had no choice but to follow it through and see where it carried me. There was no sense in regretting the choice, because it had already been made and couldn't be unmade. The only thing to do was hang on, look ahead and do my best." "What happened to her? The Rose Bride?" Utena shook her head, feeling her throat thickening. "I don't know for certain," she replied honestly. "Things got pretty confusing there at the end. I think she's still there - not at the school, but back home someplace." Corwin pondered this. When he sighed again, there was only a slight hitch in it. "So... what you're saying is that second-guessing the choices we've already made is a waste, and what we should really do is try to learn from them and be more ready for the next one." "Yes. That's it exactly." "But, my God, it's so sad," he whispered. "Kala was sweet and kind, too. She didn't deserve what she got, either. Isn't there anything people like us can do to help people like her?" "Sure there is. I did it, as best I could, and someday so will you. But it's like I told you - you can't jump on your horse and ride to the rescue if you can't know there's someone who needs rescuing, and unless you can see that right in front of you, the only way to know is to hear a cry for help." "You know, it's strange," he said. "Sometimes I feel like there isn't anything I could tell you that you wouldn't understand. There's no one else in my life I can say that about. Not even Kate." "Kate loves you very much," said Utena. "I know that," Corwin replied, sounding faintly insulted. "But still... there are things she doesn't really understand. I stand with one foot in Midgard and one in Asgard, and she doesn't. But when I talk to you... it's almost as if you do, too. There's something about you that's almost... divine." He reddened. "That sounded dumber than it felt," he added, embarrassed. Utena giggled. "I understand what you meant. And thank you," she added, giving him a gentle squeeze. "That's quite a compliment." "See?" said Corwin with a suddenly sleepy grin. "You even understood -that-... " Unwilling to disturb his peace after it had been so hard-won, Utena held him in her arms and watched him go to sleep, smiling as the lines of pinched worry in his young face smoothed away. It was strange... when he was at his best, he could be so cheerful, so confident, so assured, even masterful, that it was hard to remember he wasn't already the man he would surely soon grow to be. She'd noted that many times over the previous week. Now she'd discovered that at times like this, when something hit him hard enough to dent his armor, he could be thrown so far off his stride that he swung back the other way and became a child again. He was on the ragged edge of manhood, slipping first this way and then the other. Physically, he was coming along nicely; in the three months she'd known him he'd shot up from a head shorter than she to only a couple of inches shy of her height, and his shoulders had broadened dramatically. The line of his jaw was squaring off. He would get craggy with maturity; she could see that in the high ridges of his cheekbones and the already-forming lines at the corners of his eyes, mouth and nose. A very handsome young man, for those interested in that type, with his coal-black shock of hair, his intriguing facial tattoos, his ice-blue eyes that could be comical or frightening in their intensity, and his mobile mouth that could grin disarmingly or scowl with remarkable ferocity. Not beautiful, but distinctive - striking - memorable. Utena took up one of his hands and surveyed it. It was big for the rest of him, with powerful fingers and solid, bony knuckles, callused from his years of fighting practice with his mother's Valkyrie troopers; but he could summon such sensitivity and precision of touch from these unwieldy-looking instruments to build impossibly complex mechanisms and delicate electronics, or ease a splinter from under skin without causing a single twinge of pain. He was really quite a remarkable fellow, she thought, and on his way to being something more. Once experience tempered his naivete, his nobility of spirit and strength of character would make a very fine man out of him. The work in progress was already a good friend to have. Smiling, she laid his hand back down on his chest, covered it with her own, flicked off the lantern with her toe, leaned her head on his, and went to sleep herself. Morning came, and with it daylight. Assaulted first by the beam that came from the east window, Corwin stirred, mumbled, slid his eyes open, and then realized where he was. "Nuh!" he said, jerking half upright. Jostled, Utena murmured something unintelligible and slowly opened her own eyes. "Oh," she said, "good morning, Corwin. Did you sleep well?" Corwin blinked at her. "Uh... yeah," he said. "Yeah, actually, I did." He raised his hand and touched his left cheek. "Except my face feels kind of strange... " Utena looked closer, then giggled. "You've got button face," she said, pointing to the top button on her uniform jacket. He stared at her for a second, then grinned, chuckled, and laughed outright. Utena laughed too, and it was in the lingering atmosphere of amusement that Corwin got to his feet, stretched his creaking joints, and went to look out the east window. "Do you feel better?" Utena asked as she got to her own feet and did her own stretching. "In a way," Corwin said thoughtfully, rubbing at the red mark on the side of his face. "I mean, I still feel terrible. Kala's still... gone... and I know there's nothing I can do about it now except miss her. But... I don't feel quite so much like it's all my fault." "Well, that's good," Utena said. She came around behind him and put her arms around his shoulders. "You're a good person, Corwin," she told him, then added with a tone of slightly self-mocking good humor, "With a little more polishing you'll make a first-rate prince. You just have to learn your limits. Don't beat yourself up too much over the things you couldn't do anything about." He raised a hand to touch hers where it cupped the point of his shoulder. "Utena?" he said. "Mm?" "I... " He swallowed, hesitated for one long teetering moment, then plunged forward, blurting, "I love you. Will you go out with me? We could go to dinner, and then a show, or dancing, or something, whatever you like." "Oh, Corwin... I'm sorry," she said, turning him around to look him in the eyes, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Didn't I tell you last night? I can't. I'm engaged to be married." Corwin looked back at her, his face blank with puzzlement for a moment; then he said, "-You- won... ?" She nodded. "That's right. And what's more, by the time it was all said and done, I -wanted- to win, with all my heart." "The Rose Bride's another girl, right?" said Corwin. Utena nodded. "Yes, and that threw me off a bit at first, too," she admitted. "I mean, it's not so strange in this world nowadays, but still - I like guys, and don't usually look at girls. But... " She shook her head, a little frustrated with herself. "I'm not really sure I can explain it to you. It's only in the last little while that I've really come to understand it -myself-. In this case... I just... I came to love her -so much- that none of that -mattered- anymore." She sighed. "I'm not sure this is making any sense," she went on, "but... what people are, Corwin... it's important, but not as important as -who- they are. The Rose Bride - her name is Anthy, by the way, Anthy Himemiya - is the one who I love most in all the universe. Someday she'll find me, or I'll find my way back to her. Until then, I wait and hope." She shook his shoulders a little, looking downcast. "I'm sorry, Corwin. I can't go out with you." "Oh," said Corwin in a somewhat hollow tone. There wasn't really much more he could say to that. They stood there that way for a little while, in silence; then, in a small, hesitant voice, Corwin said, "Is that it?" Utena looked up, confused. "Is what it?" "Is that all you're going to say?" Corwin persisted. "What I mean is... aren't you going to give me the usual speech about how I'm a really great guy, and you like me a lot, and you hope we can still be friends?" Utena's lips quirked; she fought it down, realizing he was dead serious. "Of... of course. I thought that all went without saying. You -are- a really great guy. I -do- like you a lot. I'd be very upset if we couldn't still be friends." Relief flooded Corwin's face. "Oh," he said; then, throwing his hands in the air, he declared, "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAALLLLL!!" This had its desired effect, breaking up the over-serious tension of the moment and freeing Utena to laugh. Quietly, they put on their shoes, shut down the dampers, took a quick reconnaissance at the windows and then slipped out of the Tower. As they walked side by side down the hill in the cool, quiet, misty morning, Corwin said, "So... since we're still pals... you want to get something to eat tonight, maybe see a movie or go dancing or something?" Utena looked sidelong at him with a wry little grin, and then said, "Sure, sounds like fun. But right now I could do with some breakfast." She linked her arm with his, and together they walked down to the Friendly's on Highland Street. /* Joe Satriani "Friends" _The Extremist_ */ Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presented UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT - Symphony of the Sword - Interlude at Bancroft Tower No. 1 in D Minor The Cast (in order of appearance) Utena Tenjou Corwin Ravenhair Mortal Conduit Benjamin D. Hutchins Typospotting The Usual Suspects Drawn Into the Maelstrom Janice Barlow Illumination Handlan-Buck Manufacturing Company The Symphony will return