I have a message from another time... Eyrie Productions, Unlimited presents UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT - SYMPHONY OF THE SWORD No. 3 - The End of the Tour Benjamin D. Hutchins with Kris Overstreet "The Sword" by Kris Overstreet "Limelight" by Lee, Lifeson and Peart (c) 2002 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited SATURDAY, AUGUST 26, 2406 01:41 CFA NEW ORLEANS FREESPACER HOME FLEET, ZETA CYGNI CYGNUS SECTOR Kaitlyn Hutchins sat at the head of the long chain of tables dragged together by the waitstaff of the Imperial Centauri Diner, relaxing after nearly three hours of music with four encores to the biggest crowd she had ever played in front of in her life. Before the Amar incident, the Art of Noise had been scheduled as one of four bands playing concurrently on the Processional during the second day of the seven-day Freespacer Fleet Muster. The ensuing rescheduling had made that date impossible, and as a result the Art of Noise had played with the massive open space at the heart of CFA New Orleans all to itself... and had needed every bit of that space. Kate still couldn't quite believe that her face had been up on the fourth-largest vid screen in the galaxy (off Cybertron), but there it had been - fifty yards tall. Twenty-five thousand people had crowded into the official stands and an unknown but much larger nonpaying crowd had covered the Processional's turf and stood on the shopping catwalks above to catch the show. The cheers of that massive audience had echoed through the chamber, giving her and the band a thrill that had to be experienced to be believed. And tomorrow - well, later today - Morgan Arena. She'd wondered, when Juri booked it, how they were going to fill that vast space. Now, she wondered if twenty thousand seats would be -enough-. She scratched the head of her pet neotiger, Sergei, and considered it. "Hey, if it isn't the boss lady," a chuckling voice shouted out. Kate turned in her chair to see Mac McKenzie escorting the five members of the Illogics into the diner. He'd arranged for the diner to be closed to all customers but the band and its guests - by what means, he refused to say - and Moose MacEchearn, Miki Kaoru and Mia Ausa had all vouched for its quality of food, so Kate had approved its selection as the site of the post-concert celebration. "How about it, maestro," the voice, which belonged to Sketh, the Illogics' rhythm guitarist, asked. "How do you like the big time?" "I-it's p-p-pretty... um..." Kate didn't know exactly how to describe it, come to it. On the one hand, having thousands of people chanting for her and cheering her on was a massive thrill. On the other hand, the fact that the diner -had- to be closed to all other customers for the party rubbed her the wrong way. Fame was something she had no real taste for. "... overw-w-whelming," she said at last. Juri Arisugawa, who happened to be the Art of Noise's manager as well as Kaitlyn's girlfriend, entered the diner just in time to hear that. A flicker of concern crossed her normally cool, elegant face as she went to Kate's side and put a hand on her shoulder; then, with a trace of worry in her voice, she said, "Well, then you might not like the good news I'm bringing you after all." Kate looked up at the redhead and smiled. "W-well, if it's g-g-GOOD news... " Juri shrugged slightly. "I thought it was. It seems obvious to me after today's turnout that Morgan Arena won't be big enough for tomorrow's show. Annabeth Lewis, president of Avalon Entertainment, agrees - she was there tonight." Kate nodded, the expression on her face clearly indicating that she wondered where this was leading. "I'm late getting here because she caught me after the show to discuss the problem, and the solution she came up with... well... I think it's good news, but after hearing what you just said, I'm not sure you'll agree." "W-hat?" Kate replied, still smiling. "It c-can't be th-THAT bad. W-what'd she, s-s-swap us into the C-C-Colosseum or s-something?" "Actually... yes," said Juri. Kate blinked. There was utter silence in the diner for several seconds, broken only by the sudden, startling clatter of a dropped dish back in the kitchen, followed by a colorful Denebian curse. Serge made a muttering noise as Kate, stunned, stopped petting him; then he circled Juri and pushed his head under one of her hands instead. Finally Sketh let out a long, low whistle. "Wow," he said. "We didn't play the Col until... what, our third tour? You guys really -are- big time." "Congratulations," said S'Bann. "Uh... I guess." Kate smiled, though it looked slightly forced. "Th-thanks," she said. "It r-really is g-good news... I'm j-just not sure how to t-take it. I m-mean... w-what are we t-talking for s-seating here? Th-they d-d-don't expect us to p-play in the r-round, do they?" "No, no," Juri replied, shaking her head. "We'll be in one of the end zones, with the sections behind and to the sides closed - although most of the people who would have been sitting there will be down on the field instead. Annabeth expects to pull something comparable to a Cossacks game." "I d-don't follow f-football," Kate said, "s-so that's... " "Last year the Cossacks drew an average of seventy thousand, one hundred eleven people per game," R. Dorothy informed the room, "with a peak attendance of 112,291 for the final playoff game against the Kronos Warriors and a low of 30,424 for the annual ritual slaughter of the New Dallas Cowboys." She paused, noting the odd stares being directed her way, then replied blandly, "What? I like football." "You'd be good at it, too," Sketh remarked. "You'd make a hell of a receiver," he added, waggling his eyebrows. "Sketh," said Dorothy patiently, "must everything you say be a pathetic attempt at innuendo?" "Sorry," the Vulcan replied, looking genuinely abashed. "Force of habit." Kate sat looking startled and thoughtful throughout this digression. Then she murmured softly, "A h-hundred th-th-thousand p-people... that... th-that IS overwh-wh-whelming." "I know what you mean," the Illogics' front man, Surel, agreed with a sympathetic nod. "It can get hard to take after a while. That's why we only tour three months out of the year, no matter what." Kate nodded agreement with the theory, and with Surel's experience. Although the Illogics were a nearly-unknown rock-covers band, the five Vulcans who made up the group were also known by another name: Cthia, one of the hottest bands in galactic music. Kate had seen only a few concerts at this level of popularity; Cthia had been riding that wave for nearly seven years. "Are you ready for the big night tomorrow?" Juri asked as the Illogics/Cthia took their seats. "Quite," Surel nodded. "It'll be good to come out from behind 'Sesik's' mask once and for all." Tickets for the Morgan Arena concert in New Avalon - only a few million miles away from where the Freespacer Home Fleet floated inside the Zeta Cygni Dyson Sphere - had gone on sale two weeks before. They had been touted as simply, 'THE ART OF NOISE: The End of the Tour', with Cthia, not the Illogics, listed as the opening band. Rumors had flown, and so had ticket prices, with scalpers getting as much as a thousand credits for front-row tickets. Until tonight, Kate had put that down to Cthia's popularity... but after seeing enough Freespacers gathered in one place to strain the New Orleans's life-support systems, she wasn't so sure anymore. "We've got the new songs down cold," added Sanan, the Illogics' keyboardist and music arranger. "Especially the new traditional one. Man, a lot of people are going to bug their eyes out when they hear -that- one." "Is your label still making breach-of-contract noises?" asked Moose MacEchearn. "That's tapered off some," Surel replied. "They've given up trying to scare us out of doing it. I think they're waiting to see how the change affects sales. If we tank, they'll sue. If we don't, they'll say it was their idea." "Feel fortunate you're not signed with Ziggurat," Liza Shustal mused. "If you were, and my father found out what you're up to, he'd probably sell you to the Hutts." "Come to think of it," said Sanan thoughtfully, "doesn't a Hutt own twenty percent or so of Millenium?" "I try not to think about that," Surel said with a laugh. He trailed off when he noticed that Kaitlyn wasn't laughing; she was just sort of sitting there, gazing a bit blankly into her bowl of soup. Silence descended as everyone followed his eyes to her, then looked back at him. "Kate?" he said quietly. "You OK?" Kaitlyn blinked herself out of her reverie and looked up, slightly disoriented. "Something wrong with the soup?" asked Sketh, his normally jocular tone subdued by genuine concern. Kate shook her head. "N-no," she replied. "It's j-just the c-comedown. Seems l-like it g-gets d-deeper... the b-bigger the show. M-maybe I'll... g-go to b-b-bed now." Surel nodded. "Yeah," he said, his tone sympathetic. "Probably a good idea. See you tomorrow at sound check, huh?" Kate got up and smiled, and though she still looked a bit unsettled, the smile was genuine. "C-couldn't keep me aw-way," she said. Then she bade them all goodnight, as did Juri, and they left together with Serge padding nonchalantly behind. Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan watched them go, then leaned back in her chair and said, "She'll be OK. We've seen her like that before; she always bounces back." S'Bann nodded. "Yeah, it happens to us sometimes. You think she's nervous about tomorrow too?" "Who wouldn't be?" Surel replied. "I know -I- am." "I'm not," Dorothy replied, deadpan - but her eyes had a slight twinkle in them, and the Vulcans had become almost as adept as her own bandmates at reading it in the weeks the two bands had toured together, so it got the desired laugh all around the table. "You've got nerves of steel, babe," said Sketh, grinning. "Optic fiber, actually," Dorothy said. The end of the starship Valiant's tour came with considerably less fanfare than the end of the band's. On Saturday morning, Captain Utena Tenjou reported to the Chief of the Interstellar Police in his office in downtown New Avalon (which he almost never used) to formally complete her evaluation of the vessel's shakedown and post her final report on the performance of ship and crew. The Chief accepted the report, reassigned the full-time IPSF officers involved to their original postings, inactivated the commissions of the reservists involved (including Utena), then took the Captain to lunch. While that was happening, chief engineer Corwin Ravenhair was turning the ship herself over to the care of the International Police Shipyards at Zeta Cygni II. This wasn't much of an occasion either, since Zefram Cochrane, Chief of the Yards, had been aboard the Valiant as an engineering consultant for her entire voyage. That particular transition involved a ceremonial drink to celebrate the vessel's wonderful performance, and then Cochrane got down to the work of preparing the ship for her next assignment while Corwin went to the small craft dock for the One-Hit Wonder. Anthy Tenjou was waiting for him aboard the old freighter. It took him slightly by surprise that she hadn't gone down to New Avalon with the rest when Valiant docked and they offloaded their things. They had a week here in town, most at the Monolith, some at the Hutchins/Morgan house in Crescent Heights, before most of them went back to Jeraddo for the start of their last year at the Deedlit Satori Mandeville Memorial Institute. "Didn't expect to see you here," he told her as he thumbed the ramp retractor. "Not that I'm complaining," he added with a smile, "but I figured you'd have gone down with the rest." "It's Saturday," Anthy replied with a calm smile, and Corwin laughed. "I can't argue with that," he said. They rode the short distance between the planet and the surface of the sphere (Corwin was a god and even -he- wasn't sure how they'd managed to build the thing so that Zeta Cygni's two planets continued in their old orbits undisturbed inside the sphere) mostly in silence, but not an awkward one. Their times together, most of them on Saturdays, were often marked by such comfortable quiets. As he brought the old freighter in over Lake Daniels to land at Mathews Memorial Spaceport, Corwin chuckled. Anthy glanced over from the copilot's seat and said, "Mm?" "I was just wondering," Corwin said, "if Utena knows what's next for Valiant." Anthy nodded. "Of course," she said. "She's a bit sad about it - knowing that another captain and crew will take over what was her domain for a happy time - but she understands. And though she's enjoyed her time as captain and wouldn't mind doing it again, she'll be glad to get back to school." At this, Corwin laughed, a delighted sort of laugh that puzzled Anthy slightly until he said, "So she doesn't, then. That's perfect. That's just like Dad. He's probably going to surprise her with it over lunch." "Surprise her with what?" It was just the kind of sentimental, thoughtful, and gleefully wasteful sort of thing Corwin had come to expect from his father that the International Police Space Force's second Defiant-class vessel, IPS Valiant (NX-06041), would go straight onto standby at the close of her shakedown cruise. Not into mothballs - flight standby, ready at all times to be crewed and put to space at a moment's notice. Corwin wouldn't have been surprised if his father had come up with the plan on the spur of the moment as he described it the previous night during Kate's show on the New Orleans. "Valiant is a special ship, Corwin," he'd said. "As far as I'm concerned, she has only one captain, and she'll be kept ready for the day when that captain needs her again." Back in the present, Anthy blinked at him, torn between consternation and sharing his amusement. Finally she opted for the latter, smiled, and said, "My. The papers will have a fit if they find out about -that-." Corwin chuckled again, shaking his head fondly. "Just like Dad," he said, then keyed his commset to open negotiations with Mathews ATC for landing clearance. He concluded his talks with the tower, brought the Wonder down, and parked her in his hangar, right next to the one where his father kept Daggerdisc. As he and Anthy descended the ramp, he noted with satisfaction that the IP Yards people had already delivered Valiant's small-craft complement to the hangar, which had plenty of room to spare even with the Wonder in it. Utena's fighter, the redoubtable Swordfish II, was parked near the main door, wings folded to save space, and the antique Z-95 Headhunter Kozue Kaoru had picked up on Titan was tucked neatly into the corner, near the workbench. Corwin smiled and ran his hand along the Headhunter's snout as he passed. "Looking forward to the project?" Anthy wondered. "You bet," Corwin replied. "I've always wanted to work on a Headhunter. 'Course, I'm just going to be helping - it's Kozue's project. She's pretty insistent on that." "What's the difference?" Anthy wondered. "Well, according to Kozue," said Corwin as they left the hangar by the side door, "if it were -my- project I'd take the ship down to my workshop underground and not come up until all the work was done. Since it's -her- project, we're going to do it here, where people can find us if something more interesting comes up, and if they do come and find us and it sounds like a good time, we're leaving." "Goodness," Anthy observed with a twinkling little smile. "That will be quite a trial for you." Corwin laughed again, which pleased Anthy - she liked making him laugh. After so many years of being stifled under the mindless burden of her place in Cephiro, her sense of humor was enjoying the chance to stretch its wings; it was understated and dry, but to those closest to her that made it all the sweeter, and she had been glad of their support ever since she started getting reacquainted with it. "I think I'll survive," he assured her; then his smile widened a bit at they arrived at their destination outside. Corwin hadn't driven his car, his beloved Griffon II limousine, very much since March, when he'd gone to Cephiro for his Trial of Ascension. Since then he'd either been there or on the road with Kate and her band for most of the time, while the car had remained here, parked in lockdown mode next to the hangar, waiting. Now he thumbed the identikey and watched with satisfaction as the car's parking armor retracted instantly. The turbine was already whining softly as he slid behind the wheel. He hadn't had an opportunity to do this for a while, and he was going to savor it. "Shall we," he inquired, "take a lap of the city before we go and inspect my new apartment?" "I think that would be a wonderful idea." Three hours later, Corwin Ravenhair finished putting away the last of his books, flattened the last of his boxes and put them on the trash heap, and then stood with his back to the door and surveyed the room with the satisfaction of a job well done. It had taken a lot of poking around (much of it with the help of pre-recorded virtual reality scenarios) and a good bit of fiddling, but at the end of the Art of Noise 2406 summer tour, Corwin had managed to make his plan for his return to New Avalon work the way he wanted it to work. With the summer's rambles wrapped up and a week to go before the start of the school year, he was all moved in and ready to take on... well, whatever there was for a person to take on in his sophomore year. There were a lot of considerations to be taken into account when a young man with Corwin's rather peculiar lifestyle looked for a place to live. How many people needed to find a top-floor place with skylights to make things more convenient for their friends who could fly? Or had to simultaneously narrow their searches based on the ease of access from the apartment to the (officially) abandoned defense tunnels deep under Avalon County? With (hopefully) convenient access to the N - preferably the Gold Line - and a good sightline on the downtown area? With the dogged, relentless help of his father's wife Kei, Corwin had accomplished all those self-appointed missions, and it was with considerable pleasure that he contemplated living in this place for the next three years or so. He'd been a little dubious about the place when first introduced to it, truth be told, but now he felt it was just his style. One of the criticisms leveled at the city of New Avalon by its occasional detractors was that, having been created from scratch in the 2380s, it had no real history - just things that were built to look as if they did. It was a fair comment, and the city's prime mover, Corwin's father, acknowledged it as such. He didn't apologize for it, though, and the city didn't either. Benjamin Hutchins had grown up in New England on the Earth of the late twentieth century, amid settlements and cities whose histories had at the time gone back, generally, two to three hundred years; and so when he created a city out of nothing, that was the age he built it to resemble. Post-industrial New England in the 1980s and 1990s was a place of factories and warehouses that were no longer serving their original purposes, industrial buildings of red brick and iron which had been converted into offices and apartments. The best of the conversions had taken the buildings' original purposes into account and left some interesting vestiges of the old days in place. Gryphon had always been fond of those buildings, and so New Avalon had them - but in New Avalon, they had always been what they were now. They were offices and apartment buildings deliberately constructed to seem as though they had once been factories. New Avalon's critics said this was a sham; Gryphon responded that "sham" implies somehow that the perpetrators are trying to fool people into thinking a thing is something else, and since only an utter idiot wouldn't realize immediately that New Avalon had never had 1930s-style red-brick factories to be converted after fifty years of industrial service into housing and office space, the word was misused in this context. If they were still hanging around when he finished with that, he generally went on to advise them to lighten the hell up a little and just enjoy the architecture. Anyway, Corwin's new apartment was in just such a building, a four-story brick edifice in the city's Millrace district, on the west bank of the Morgan River about a mile from Lake Daniels. The building was two blocks from the Millrace stop on the Gold Line; between that and the distance from the Crescent Heights stop to Koopman Memorial High, that would make for a pleasant walk each morning and afternoon, with some time on the train do a spot of reading. Ride the other way instead and downtown was only a transfer to the Purple Line away. The building itself, which rejoiced in the boldly painted name "WORLD WIDE BUILDING", was built in the form of a converted warehouse. Not the long, low, seedy waterfront kind, but the tall, brick, next-to-the-mill kind. It had high ceilings; on the top floor, which was Corwin's, the steel trusses holding up the roof were exposed inside the apartment. The brick walls were painted on the inside, but not covered up by more modern wall materials; the heat came from old-fashioned steam radiators. The electrical wiring was visible, attached to the walls with gleaming cable staples, and the lighting came from hanging fixtures with metal shades that looked like Chinese basket hats. The apartment took up the whole of the building's top floor, and had only four full-height, permanent dividing walls inside it. Except for the bathroom and the enclosure around the stairway and the archaic steel-cage elevator, it was one big open rectangular room. The kitchen facilities were tucked away in one corner, filling out what remained of one short wall after the lift and stairs were accounted for. They were delineated by a border of counter space and cupboards, with easy communication over a counter bar to a little dining area with a round table. The bathroom was at the far end opposite the kitchen, with a right-angled work desk tucked against its wall next to the dining area. Curtains blocked off a little space for bed, bureau and wardrobe across from the bathroom. The rest of the room was given over to open, airy, high-ceilinged space, with a pair of fat black leather sofas and a couple of matching armchairs nicked from a little-used sitting room in Corwin's grandfather's palace by his Aunt Urd. There were bookshelves along the white-brick walls and a television stand. Corwin didn't watch all that much TV, but Avalon County Cable did carry Network 23 and BBC Galactica, which were staples of informed modern living in his view. Thanks to all the bookshelves and windows, wall decorations were sparse - just a pair of framed posters (the famous 1938 Art Deco painting advertising the New York Central Railroad's Twentieth Century Limited streamliner; the Art of Noise's last Toronto show), a New Avalon Knights pennant and a couple of flags. One was the national flag of the Republic of Zeta Cygni, the other the rose seal shared by Tenjou Academy in Cephiro and the Deedlit Satori Mandeville Memorial Institute Duelists' Society. The overall style was a bit spartan, but comfortable, and Corwin, who had never worried over-much about decor, thought it suited him quite well. "Not too bad," his Aunt Urd remarked, echoing his thoughts. Then she ruffled his hair and said, "Your very own swingin' bachelor pad, huh, kid?" Corwin batted her hand away with a sound combining fondness and irritation. "Yeah," he replied wryly. "I'm sure there'll be a lot of that." "You never know," said Kei offhandedly. "Handsome guy like you... " "Yeah, all right, enough," Corwin grumbled. Then he brightened somewhat, letting it drop as they did, and said, "Thanks for all your help. I'd still be hunting next month if you hadn't taken charge." "Hey, least I could do," Kei replied, "while you were off saving the universe." She took her turn mussing his hair, and then the two women took their leave. Corwin waved goodbye as the elevator sank out of sight, then went to the couch and sprawled at one end with a sigh. "They tire me, Anthy," he remarked. "I love them, but they tire me." "Love is often like that," Anthy observed. "Mm," Corwin agreed abstractly. "Ideas for dinner?" Rather than sitting down, Anthy went around the couch and leaned against the back of it behind Corwin. She absently fussed with bits of his perpetually disordered hair as she thought over the question. "I'm afraid I don't know much about what's available here," she said at last. "I've only spent a few days in New Avalon so far. We could simply stay here," she added, smoothing down another stray lock of black, "but you'd have to get up and cook. I'm afraid that's one skill I've never really mastered." Corwin pushed back his head a little to look up at her. "You can't be any worse than Aunt Urd," he remarked. "My cooking," Anthy informed him, "has been known to be genuinely -dangerous-." Corwin chuckled. "So has Urd's," he replied; then he gathered himself and rose from the couch. "Anyway, there's no food in the place yet, and I don't feel like grocery shopping, so the point's moot. Tell you what - let's go to Tanjordan's. It's not fancy, but the food's good." Anthy nodded agreeably. "Do you think we'll have time for a walk in the hills before the show?" "Up to the Heights? Sure. We can even do a little staff work in that clearing up there if you're up for it." Kaitlyn Hutchins led her band onto the stage constructed in one of the Avalon County Colosseum's end zones and stood where she would stand at her keyboards during the show, looking out at the vast expanse of the arena and wondering how she'd gotten herself into this. She could barely even -see- the other end of the venue from here, and it was still broad daylight! People were already lined up outside the main gates, hundreds, thousands of them, drawn by the media announcements this morning that the Art of Noise's final show of the Irregular Projects Tour was being moved to the Colosseum, hugely increasing the number of tickets available. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine what the place would sound like tonight, with that many people packed into it - IF that many came... but all she heard was the silence of the empty stadium. Could she connect with that kind of an audience? Could she make them get up and rock the way she could with an intimate, friendly little place like Sneaky Dee's? Hell! Even the Processional had been intimate compared to THIS! She felt a hand on her shoulder, turned her head, and saw Surel smiling at her. "You'll do fine," he told her. "You're gonna rock this place to the ground." From the equipment pit under the stage apron, engineer Liza Shustal's voice came up to her: "Absolutely. The Cossacks will just have to find somewhere else to play next season." Kate grinned. "You're g-gonna have to d-d-do your p-part," she told him. "Oh, we will," Surel said, his own smile becoming a bit sharkish. "We'll prime 'em for you. Have no fear." Kaitlyn nodded. "OK. L-let's get busy. L-Liza, how're things c-coming down there?" "The equipment is fine," Liza replied. "Your faithful engineer could use a helper and some water." The bandleader took a bottle of water from the cooler thoughtfully provided by the Colosseum's staff, jumped down from the front of the stage, and went underneath to help out. Utena Tenjou felt unusually self-conscious as she emerged from the Rose Gate onto the dueling floor above the academy that bore her name. She adjusted her gloves, smoothed the front of her white uniform tunic, then crossed to the center of the platform, where Master Mage Clef awaited her. As she approached, the diminuitive Master Mage made himself even shorter by kneeling and placing his staff on the stone. "Welcome back to Cephiro, Your Highness," he said formally. "Uh... thanks," Utena replied. There was a momentary pause; then she chuckled and said, "C'mon, Clef, get up. It's only me." Clef harrumphed a bit as he straightened. "'Only' the warrior who saved the Tenth World," he replied. "But, very well. I won't take up much of your time." Utena followed the Master Mage down the stairs to the Secret Forest and through the gates onto the campus of Tenjou Academy. For a moment, she felt a pleasant pang of nostalgia as she saw the familiar campus for the first time in months. Students could be seen here and there, out of uniform on a Saturday. Classes started the following Monday, so the campus was still mostly deserted, but some students had already moved into the residence halls and were enjoying the last few days of summer in the Academy's beautiful setting. As Utena and Clef crossed the Quad, bound for the clock tower at the center of campus, she became increasingly aware that as the few students moving around the school noticed her, they all stopped to look. Before the two got halfway across the paved Quad, they'd started gathering in little groups, talking among themselves, then waving and calling. "Wow, Clef," Utena observed. "You're pretty popular around here." The Master Mage chuckled. "They're not waving to -me-, Prince Tenjou. They're waving to -you-, the namesake of their school - their hero." Utena blinked, then felt a blush creeping across the bridge of her nose. "Really?" "Certainly," Clef replied. "To them, I'm just weird Professor Clef - but you are Prince Utena Tenjou, savior of Cephiro, rescuer of the High Priestess, beloved of the Pillar. You're a legend. Nearly a god, if the Tenth World had such things." The little wizard smiled a wry little smile and added, "Our world makes its own mythology, Your Highness, and it doesn't waste time aging it first." "I guess not," Utena replied, a little shaken. She remembered being here in the spring, for the previous Trinity's funeral and the disbandment of the old Ohtori Academy board of trustees. Some students had applauded her then, greeting her like the sports hero she'd sometimes been in her previous life as a student, but she'd passed it off to the euphoria of having survived the near-apocalypse of the end of the Grand Tournament. This... this was just a little weird. Still, it would have been rude not to acknowledge them, so she grinned and waved - trying to make it clear that she was glad to see them and pleased they thought her worthy of salute, not haughtily accepting the adulation that was her due. It seemed to work; they doubled their efforts, and as she passed through the door into the Tower she heard one of the girls in the group nearest the building say to one of her comrades, "The thing I like best about her is that she's so -genuine-." That both pleasing and amusing moment lasted her until they reached the top of the tower, at which point she had a moment of fresh trepidation as the elevator dinged and opened. The last time she saw this room... ... it was completely different from the way it was now. OK. Good. The top floor of the Academy Tower had once been the Devil's own sitting room, complete with couches of white leather and a sophisticated planetarium projector. Now it had the same domed ceiling and the same all-round windows, but everything else was different. The floor was covered with a tough black rubber matting, and the center of the room was dominated not by a projector but by two huge semicircular arc tables, both covered in books, what looked like chemistry equipment, jars of various substances, and all the rest of the paraphernalia of a sorcerer's laboratory. There was even a small cast-iron cauldron standing on one of them, perched on an iron stand over a Bunsen burner and bubbling merrily. The change was so radical that Utena had to stop herself from giggling, partly from relief and partly because she found the new look so comical. Even more pleasing was the sight of the figure tending that cauldron, a person not much taller than the Master Mage but almost visibly growing. Catching sight of him, Utena blinked, then laughed with pleasure. "Tsuwabuki, is that you?" she asked, trotting over to the sandy-haired young man. "Good Lord, look at you! You must be a foot taller than the last time I saw you." Mitsuru Tsuwabuki blushed and replied, "Oh, I don't think a -foot-, Your Highness. Six or eight inches, maybe... " Utena rolled her eyes. "Will you people -please- stop calling me that? It's like Anthy calling me 'Lady Utena' all the time, back when." Tsuwabuki smiled. "How is the High Priestess?" he asked. "Fine," said Utena with a smile. She glanced at her watch and went on, "Out for dinner with Corwin around now, I would imagine." The blond young man's smile was undiminished as he replied, "Ah, they're still doing Saturdays? That's good. It was always good to see her when the Pillar was a student here. A few of us were hoping he would come back this year - especially Miss Shiori," he added with a chuckle. Utena rubbed the back of her head. "You're kidding." Tsuwabuki shrugged. "She says she found him decorative." Utena laughed. "He is that," she conceded. "So what are you doing up here, anyway? Clef got you cooking his lunch?" "Mr. Tsuwabuki," Clef informed her with an air of slightly tried patience, "has agreed to be my apprentice, since I've released your friend Wakaba from that duty." "Huh," said Utena. "Thinking of retiring?" "Someday," Clef replied, "but worry not. It will be decades before young Mitsuru is ready to take my place." Tsuwabuki made a show of gulping dauntedly, though he surely must already have known that, and went back to stirring the cauldron. "Where is Kanae, Mitsuru?" asked Clef. "Downstairs, I think, in the Council office." "Very well. Keep at that the way I showed you. You'll be ready for phase 2 in another five minutes or so. How will you know?" "When it turns green," Tsuwabuki replied positively. "Good," said Clef with a smile. "Carry on." "Yes, Master Clef. Good to see you again, Your - Utena," said the young man, modifying his statement on the fly as Utena grinned and held up an admonitory finger. "You too, Mitsuru. Study hard this year!" "I will!" he called after her as she followed Clef back to the elevator. "Come and visit us again!" As soon as the doors closed behind her and the car set into motion again, Utena felt the nervousness that seeing Tsuwabuki had erased creep back. It wasn't that she had any particular bad memories associated with the Student Council offices - she'd barely ever been there - but the person she was going to meet... well, she wasn't looking forward to that part much. They arrived to find the Student Council's offices dark and quiet. Except for Tsuwabuki, the Council had not yet arrived back at school. One of its seats, that of the president, was vacant, since Kozue Kaoru was not returning to the Academy. Utena thought it likely that Tsuwabuki would end up president; it would make him the youngest president in the Council's history, if Anthy's memory was correct, but even at the age of ten he'd be a better choice than at least one person who'd -been- Council president, so what the hell? Clef led the way out onto the Council balcony, which overlooked the Quad and the north end of campus, including the Secret Forest. Utena followed, but hesitated slightly in the doorway. Then she took a breath, squared herself, and went out there as well. Kanae Ohtori, the last of the family who had administered the Academy for centuries, turned to greet them, her long, wavy hair blowing in the summer wind that swept the tower. Several years older than Utena, Kanae had been a senior when the Grand Tournament began. Utena guessed she would be around twenty now. She was a tall young woman, slim and quite striking, with deep green eyes that contrasted against her ash-blonde hair. Her education had been interrupted by the turmoil of the Tournament, so she had only graduated the previous May - graduated, unexpectedly, from a school that no longer bore her family's name. Today she stood on the balcony dressed in a uniform similar to those worn by the Tenjou Academy Student Councilors. It had the same white trousers and a jacket of a similar pattern to Utena's own, but the jacket was of violet gabardine and was somewhat abbreviated, with a black waistcoat making up the difference. She had a sword, a dueling rapier, at her side, and as she turned to face Utena and Clef, the Grand Duelist felt a brief, quickly-squelched stab of actual alarm; for Kanae moved with an easy grace that Utena found disturbingly familiar. The blonde girl nodded to Clef, then stepped past him and, to Utena's great surprise, knelt before her. "Prince Tenjou," she said. "Thank you for agreeing to see me today. I won't take up much of your time." "Uh... that's OK, Kanae," said Utena nervously. "Look, um... why don't you get up, OK? I'm not one to stand on ceremony." Kanae chuckled as she rose. "No, you never were, were you? Very well. I think there's one thing we should get out of the way first, and if you'd rather not stand on ceremony we might as well just cut straight to that." "Sure," said Utena. "Go ahead." "Most of the memories of the days of the Grand Tournament have returned to me," Kanae told her, "but they are... disconnected. They feel, for the most part, as though they happened to someone else." "Oh. Well, er... that's actually good." Kanae nodded. "I agree, believe me. But the point is this: I know I must make you uneasy. My name and my face must remind you of painful times and things best left buried. But I want you to know this: I hold nothing against you. I wasn't a willing participant in the vicious game you had to play. If you have any lingering worry that you hurt me by any of your actions during the Tournament, abandon it, because I... I wasn't really there. Do you understand?" Utena stood looking at Kanae for several long moments, then bowed her head and raised it again. "I understand." "If anything, I should apologize to you," Kanae went on. "If my family and I hadn't gone so easily into the Fallen Prince's thrall, you might have been spared a great deal of pain." "Perhaps," Utena replied, choosing her words with unaccustomed care. "But... by your own words just now, you weren't a willing participant. Right?" Kanae nodded slowly, opened her mouth to speak, but Utena held up a hand and went on, "Anyway, if things hadn't happened as they did... then I would never have faced that test, and without that - painful as it was - I never would have become... what I am now. And what would that mean to the world?" Kanae stood with her mouth open for a moment, her old reply discarded and her new one not quite formed; then she closed her eyes, opened them again, and smiled. "You have a definite point, Your Highness," she said. Utena dropped her pensive pose and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Will people PLEASE stop calling me that? Look. If you weren't really there before - which I'm perfectly willing to believe, sometimes I feel like -I- wasn't really there for some of it - then you and I have never really met, right? Except at the meeting where Clef fired your father, and we weren't really introduced. So it's nice to meet you," she said, sticking out a hand. "I'm Utena Tenjou." Kanae blinked at the outstretched hand, then at its owner; then she let herself go and laughed out loud before taking it. "A pleasure," she said, playing along. "I'm Kanae Ohtori. Master Clef has asked me to serve as his Deputy Chairman and administer the functions of the Order of the Rose, pending your approval." Utena gave her hand a shake, let it go, and said, "Well, let's go see what you've got." What Kanae had, dueling-wise, was eerily familiar. She had received her swordfighting skills the same way several of Utena's friends and acquaintances had, by means of a bizarre sorcerous process which had imprinted the abilities of someone else onto her own identity. In such a fashion, Kozue Kaoru had received a copy of her brother Miki's fencing skills, Wakaba Shinohara had inherited the kendo prowess of upperclassman Kyouichi Saionji, and Kanae... well, no one was really sure where Kanae's acquisition had come from, but it had made her a fairly formidable swordswoman all the same. Not formidable enough to defeat the Rose Knight and Rose Bride, who by then had started to learn to function as a a team, but formidable. What was more, since recovering her memory of the Tournament shortly before graduating, she'd been training, hoping to find an opportunity like the one she now had to do something in redress of the help she had been, however unwilling and unwitting, to the creature who had nearly destroyed her world. She'd made the technique, whoever she'd inherited it from, her own. She still wasn't good enough to beat the Prince of the Tenth World, but that was only to be expected. "All right," Utena told her as they stood at the top of the stairs down from the dueling platform. "I'm not going to insult you by pretending this is easy for me to say... but if you want the job, you have my approval." Kanae nodded. "I appreciate that it isn't," she said. She put out a hand, placing it on Utena's arm, and went on, "I know this is awkward, and I don't know if our history will ever let us be friends... but I'll do the best job I can here. You'll never have to worry about the Academy while I'm its Deputy Chairman. I promise you that." Utena smiled - a little awkwardly, but with genuine warmth - and patted Kanae's hand. "You might be surprised who I've been able to be friends with now that it's over, Kanae," she said. "Thanks for the promise. It's early yet... but... I think I can trust you." She held out her hand. "Good luck," she offered. Kanae returned the smile hopefully and took the offered hand. "Thank you. And to you, too, Prince Tenjou." "Please," said the Prince with a slightly embarrassed grin. "Call me Utena." At 8 PM New Avalon time, the Avalon County Colosseum -seethed- with sentient life. By the official count, eighty thousand, two hundred eighty-seven people were crammed into the vast stadium, and by the time the lights went down, they were good and ready to rock. The crowd inside the Colosseum broke into loud cheers as the house lights dimmed. A handful of spotlights rose on empty positions on stage, and the cheers slowly quietened as the crowd wondered what was going on. Then, at the loud hoot of a horn, spotlights flashed on stage left, and in immaculate black robes, hair trimmed to perfection, Cthia entered, bearing the traditional instruments each member of the band played. In the lead walked Sesik, strumming his lyre and, between strums, making minor adjustments to the electric pickup clamped to the resonator box. Stark followed him, playing the bhara horn more softly now that they had the audience's attention. Stank bore a single-stringed c'wonk, not playing it yet, waiting for the audience to calm enough to hear. Likewise, Smirk, who bore a tree of atch'long chimes in both hands, and Skulk, who tapped the walking beat on his drumsticks as he walked back to his drums, waited until everyone was in place and the audience quiet. The song they played, like most Vulcan songs, was soft in comparison to Earth-style rock music. The lute strummed in a minor key, backed by the low bass of the c'wonk and accented by horn, chimes and drums. Sesik sang, high, full, and almost totally alien, as the Old Vulcan words frustrated even those in the audience fluent in the modern tongue. One word they could pick out, easily, and it unnerved a lot of people, for nobody in the audience could ever remember -any- Vulcan singers performing a song with the word 'sword' anywhere in it, much less repeated so often. The song ended with repetitions of the last line, building up to a strong major chord in tones which had nothing to do with traditional Vulcan orchestration. When the song ended, the applause was strong, if somewhat confused, and it ended much sooner than it usually did for Cthia's opening song... but then, Cthia usually didn't do the traditionals first thing. In any case, as the band set down their Vulcan instruments and picked up the Earth-style guitars, keyboards and drumsticks, Sesik stepped to the front edge of the stage and spoke. "Cthia," he said, "is about recognizing the truth in the world around oneself." Applause; the line had been used in many concerts before and was recognized by the fans in the audience. "It is also about recognizing the truth in oneself." Silence; the audience recognized now that the usual oh-so-Vulcan routine wasn't happening this time. "For seven years we have attempted to present the truth about Vulcan by presenting a lie about ourselves. We feel now that the message has been delivered, but for those who did not hear, it is this: The Way of Surak, as it is practiced by most Vulcans, is incomplete. Surak tought the mastery of passions, not their eradication... and of the two, mastery is the greater victory." Hesitant applause, as Sesik picked idly at his guitar. Instead of starting a new song, he said, "For seven years, we have been actors playing the role of five Vulcans doing everything wrong that is possible with the Way of Surak. We have given you cthia about its failings. Now it is time to give you cthia about ourselves." With that, he broke into a driving riff on the guitar, and to the astonishment of the audience, a broad smile. "Lemme introduce you to the REAL Cthia!" he shouted. "On guitar, the man you knew as Stark, give a cheer to SKETH!" Sketh had, as 'Sesik' talked, shrugged out of his dark Vulcan robes, revealing a T-shirt and jeans. "On bass, the only one of us born on Vulcan, say hello to the Silent One, SYNOK!" Synok's disrobing revealed a muscle shirt and sweat pants, the latter with cheerful obscenities emboidered on the legs in Vulcan script. "The worst actor in the band, sorry ladies, you can't turn Smirk, so try your luck with SANAN!" Sanan's outfit under the robes was, in color terms, louder than a fusion turbine at max thrust, complete with sunglasses with blinking lights on the frame. "Hey, Sanan, lose the shades!" 'Sesik' shouted, and with an obvious pout Sanan pocketed them and joined in the building musical wave with his keyboard. "And our drummer, formerly known as Skulk, wants to say hi to all his family and friends in the Freespacer Home Fleet - give it up for S'BANN!" The drums kicked in an extra surge of energy to the music; S'bann hadn't bothered taking off his robes, and had settled for pulling off his Vulcan-style wig to reveal a short, brushy mohawk. "And finally, yours truly," Sesik smiled, "Fritz Koopman Memorial High School Class of 2386 - let's hear it Dragons!" Massive cheer. "I'm so glad to be back home in New Avalon, I'm SUREL!!" He shrugged off his robes to reveal an Illogics T-shirt underneath and resumed his guitar licks for a few moments before grabbing the mike again. "Now we're going to play that first song again, in a way and language you'll understand," Surel said, nodding as the rest of the band faded down its playing. "If you've been watching the news lately, then listen close, because we're here to bring you some CTHIA!!" With a wave of his hand, Surel brought the band in, and the chords of the tradtional song echoed through the hall at about twice the original song's tempo. Where 'Sesik' had sung in a solemn, emotionless tone, now Surel sang the words in Standard with all the fire and heat of Vulcan's Forge at high noon. "Go forge a sword and hone it Hammer 'til it rings The steel a thousand folded Stronger than the flame Keep your sword's blade sharpened Make the whetstone sing Keen enough to slice The wind itself in two The sword, the sword is life. Keep your sword beside you Learn its many ways Teach the blade to recognize Enemy and friend The sword protects your family On hot and bloody days Held between the conqueror And those you would defend The sword, the sword is love. Sheathe the sword and keep it Draw only if you must A hasty strike brings mischief Confusion and defeat Find other swords to aid you Swordbearers you can trust With wisdom you may never need To use the sword at all The sword, the sword is peace." The applause at the end of the song started out a bit haltingly, which made Surel's smile slip a little bit, hot sweat running down the side of his face; but apparently the audience was not so much ambivalent as just stunned, because after a few moments, the place erupted. Encouraged by this response, the band wound up and launched into their next number. They hadn't had time over the course of their tour as the Illogics to prepare an entire program of original numbers in their new style, but they adapted a few of Cthia's old hits on the fly and filled out their set with covers. Anyway, they didn't have to play all night - they were just the opening act. By the end of their set, that was evident, too. The audience was clearly on their side, cheering and chanting, but it was clear to all the members of Cthia that, by the time they were finished, they had done their primary job. And that job, all of them knew, was to prime the audience for the headliners. "Well, that's enough of us," said Surel after their last number, a raucous punk cover of the ancient Who hit "The Kids Are Alright". "Now, ladies and gentlebeings, please welcome the band you REALLY came to see!" If the cheers that had welcomed Cthia to the stage had been enthusiastic, the cheers for the headliners nearly brought the place down, and that was before any of them actually appeared. Only when the cheering abated somewhat did Surel continue: "On the drums: The beautiful - the talented - the tirelessly atomic-powered - R! Dorothy! WAYNERIGHT!" The lights came up on the Art of Noise's drum kit, set up in the stage's center (Cthia had been set up off to the right, and even as Surel spoke his bandmates were making all their gear vanish from behind him), and there was Dorothy behind it. For the last show of the tour, the robotic girl had eschewed her normal, somewhat subdued wardrobe in favor of a more traditional drummer's outfit, and her construction did absolutely nothing bad to a black tank top and bike shorts. She even had a blue bandanna tied kerchief-style on her head, introducing a whimsical element of asymmetry into her usually perfect auburn bob. Surel waited for the roar to die down, then went on with his grin growing ever wider, "On the bass guitar! The HONOURABLE J! MaurICE! MacECHEARN!!" Out came Moose, his giant Hoffmanite frame crammed into his usual black dress slacks and black stretchy turtleneck; the only splashes of color on his looming dark presence were the gleaming white teeth revealed by his grin, his remarkably green eyes, and the white and red hachimaki tied around his massive head. He slammed down a short, hard slap line on his gleaming black bass guitar and waved as his share of the cheers washed over him. "Laying down the unstoppable groove on the rhythm guitar!" cried Surel with a sweeping gesture. "The Master of Navigation, the Lord of Time himself - give it up for Mr. MIKIIIIII KAORUUUU!" It seemed to Surel - and he confirmed it with a quick glance over his shoulder and a smirk (no pun intended) from Sanan - that the bulk of the cries that greeted the slim, blue-haired guitarist and his antique Rickenbacker were somewhat higher in pitch than those which had welcomed his bandmates. They also took a little longer - not much, just enough for those bandmates to notice and smile a little. Miki, simple and uncluttered in his white dress shirt and leather jeans, chuntered out a few seconds of a Bo Diddley backbeat and grinned. "Pound for pound, she's the most powerful lead guitarist in the galaxy! Let me hear you scream for the one, the only, the incredible AzaLYNN! dv'IR! NATASHKAN!" Azalynn seemed to appear front and center out of nowhere, her grey hair flashing silver in the stage lights, deep-bronze skin and golden eyes completing the trinity of precious metals. She was barefoot, all sixteen of her nails brilliantly chromed, festooned with bangles at ankles and wrists, and her costume was an abbreviated two-piece affair of skin-tight black under the dazzling white of a formal Dantrovian gown wrap - which, despite involving a good deal of fabric, wouldn't have covered enough of her to satisfy the law without the black bits underneath. Her pale-gold Satriani Special screamed down a blistering-fast scale and into a short variation on a Bach two-part invention as she almost appeared to materialize from nothing. "And finally, the fearless leader - the guiding light - the driving force that makes these four incredible musicians form one all-powerful band!" Surel whirled to face the audience, leaning in close to his microphone stand, stared with laserlike intensity out into the audience, and commanded them, "Open your heart and pour out your love for the inCOMParable! Miss! KAITLYN! HUTCHINS!" Eighty thousand people and more followed the Vulcan's instructions, and Kaitlyn appeared behind her keyboards, her glasses glittering in the stage lights, to the most incredible tumult she'd heard in her life. It almost stunned her for a moment with its intensity; for that moment, she just stood there, blinking into the lights, letting the noise flow over her. Then she reached down into her center, found the axis of power that flowed there, and settled into it, just as if she were beginning a duel. The peace of a centered ki spread through her, and then she was able to enjoy it. Of all the band's members, she was dressed the most oddly. From the waist down there was nothing particularly strange about her attire - she was just wearing regular old ordinary blue jeans and big, chunky black and white sneakers. From the waist up, though, she had on a Boston Red Sox game jersey (home white), and over that, the open jacket from some kind of military uniform, also white. The jacket was single-breasted, with red trim and big round golden epaulets, and there was a gold braid running from one shoulder and back up to one side of the open throat closure with what looked like a key hanging from its free end. On the left sleeve, above the cuff, was a peach- colored section cut into a chevron, almost like a rank marking of some kind. Utena Tenjou, who was in the front row cheering as loud as she could, burst out laughing at the sight of it. Then she elbowed the tall, elegant redhead next to her - who, to her utter delight, actually -blushed-, a broad, untrammelled smile spreading across her beautiful face. On the other side of Juri, Shiori Takatsuki (who had arrived, breathless, with her Councilmates at the top of the dueling stairs just as Utena was about to leave for New Avalon) joined the Grand Duelist in her laughter, raising one fist in the air in salute while her other arm slipped around Juri's slim back for a congratulatory squeeze. "Ladies and gentlebeings!" Surel bawled into his microphone, giving it every last bit of steam he had. "Direct from the Deedlit Satori Mandeville Memorial Institute, here they are to give you the last show of the 2406 Irregular Projects Tour: the ALMIGHTEEEEEEE - ART! OF! NOIIIIIIIIIIISE!" Then he disappeared as his light went out, and the headliners had the stage to themselves. They had to wait nearly five minutes before they could, without further announcement, open the show with what had become their signature song since the Battle of Titan. /* The Alarm "Rockin' in the Free World" _Raw_ */ In Section 74D, Row 13, Seat 29, Clarissa Broadbank sat amid the dregs of Avalonian society and pretended to be enjoying the wailings of Kaitlyn and her little friends. Periodically, she glanced at her watch. The Vulcans had yammered for forty minutes, then wasted ten more introducing the band. For a few moments there she'd thought they would play an encore, and that all the stupid cheering would draw the introductions out, so that her masterstroke fell not during the Art of Noise's performance but before it, pre-empting it. That would have been acceptable, she supposed, but a poor second to letting little Katie actually get into her 'great moment' before bringing it crashing down upon her head. Clarissa glanced at her watch again, forced herself to stop doing that, and struggled to keep still and look normal as the time ticked agonizingly by. You wait, Liza. This will be greater than anything you ever -dreamed- of doing before you betrayed us. And since you're on -her- side now, it will be my revenge on -you-, too. Imra Ardeen was enjoying her evening immensely. She had enjoyed most of the stops on the Irregular Projects Tour; Kaitlyn and her band were great, and they excelled not only in playing music but in making their audience feel good. For a telepath like Imra, the boil of positive emotions produced by such an occasion was as beautiful a thing to experience as the music itself. She stood in the front row, wedged in between B'Elanna Torres and Wakaba Shinohara, eyes closed, letting the joy of this huge crowd flow over her from behind as the joy (and the music) of the band flowed over her from the front. Suddenly, something pricked her awareness. Somewhere in the audience, someone wasn't enjoying the show. Not in the sense of having a bad night and just not getting into it - someone out there was -seething- with an angry disdain for the band, especially its leader. Someone out there hated Kaitlyn Hutchins and wished her ill. Imra squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating hard, drawing upon all her experience and training to narrow down the signal. Out of a crowd of eighty thousand, this was a daunting task even for a Jyurai- trained P12, and she wasn't able to get a positive fix, but she was able to refine the reading enough to pick up an undercurrent - anticipation - and a time. Nine o'clock. Ten minutes from now. She opened her eyes to see Wakaba looking curiously at her. Imra cocked an eyebrow, asking her for permission to make a mental contact. Wakaba nodded, concentrating on the Cosmic Lens built into the Duelist's seal on her left hand so that it would permit the contact to happen. Imra told her when she felt the contact open. Wakaba's brow furrowed. thought Wakaba after a moment's consideration on a level deeper than the link. There was a brief pause, and then they both thought in unison, On the stage, blissfully unaware of this unsettling development, the band finished their first few songs and paused for a moment to catch their breath. Kaitlyn glanced at Azalynn and nodded. The little Dantrovian grinned, flashed it around to her bandmates, and then went to her microphone. "How's everybody feeling tonight?" she asked, and got a roar back in response. "OK! Well, we're going to try something new out on you now. You'll have to bear with us, it's a little rough - Kate, Miki and I wrote it this morning, after we found out we were playing here instead of downtown. We hope you like it!" The crowd did its best to let her know they already did before she laid down an opening lick and hushed them all in an instant. /* Rush "Limelight" _Moving Pictures_ */ Kaitlyn stood and smiled as her band played through the opening of the hastily rehearsed number, well pleased with their powers of adaptability. Now if she could just remember the lyrics, everything would be fine - but there wasn't much chance she could forget them, since they perfectly summed up her mixed emotions about the Art of Noise's sudden, enormous surge of post-Titan popularity: "Living on a lighted stage approaches the unreal For those who think and feel In touch with some reality beyond the gilded cage Cast in this unlikely role, ill-equipped to act With insufficient tact One must put up barriers to keep oneself intact Living in the limelight, the universal dream Of those who wish to seem Those who wish to be must put aside the alienation Get on with the fascination The real relation, the underlying theme" While the band played, their friends and shipmates of the Institute Duelists' Society and their comrades of the Cephirean Order of the Rose fanned quietly and subtly out into the crowd. Guided by Imra Ardeen, they filtered through the cheering crowd unnoticed, disappearing into the bowels of the stadium. On the stage, unaware, Kaitlyn kept on singing. "Living in a fisheye lens Caught in the camera eye I have no heart to lie I can't pretend a stranger is a long-awaited friend All the world's indeed a stage And we are merely players Performers and portrayers Each another's audience outside the gilded cage Living in the limelight, the universal dream Of those who wish to seem Those who wish to be must put aside the alienation Get on with the fascination The real relation, the underlying theme" During this verse, the Duelists, Institute and Academy both, moved through the deserted corridors of the Colosseum's interior, their senses alert for anything out of the ordinary. The concession stands were empty but for their unfortunate staffers, trapped down here in the concrete warrens while the concert went on above. The restrooms were all but deserted. With time ticking down, the Duelists began slipping into the service passages. Azalynn and Moose dreamed their way through an intricately entwined duet in place of a solo, backed up by gentle drum work by Dorothy and some subtle keyboard play by Kate. While they did, Sergei the tiger prowled the stage, threading expertly in and around the bandmembers. As a neotiger, Serge was bred for the circus trade, which meant he accepted being in front of crowds this big without a second thought - it was his element. As Kate played, she watched him work and smiled. No doubt he thought all this applause was for him, and no more than his rightful due as the king of cats. While the band played on, their friends scoured the entrails of the Colosseum with thorough rapidity. Their summer of telepath- coordinated boarding drills served them well, for this was just like sweeping the belowdecks spaces of a ship for an intruder. It was Guy Morgan, the youngest of Kate's three brothers, who found him, and at a glance, the boy knew exactly what Clarissa's plan was. His slender body was filled with something very like rage as the depth of the elder remaining Broadbank's depravity. The man in black who Guy found lurking in the maintenance tunnel under the end zone wasn't just planning to pull the fire alarm and run. He was down here planting what appeared to be a bomb, some twenty feet below the stage where Azalynn, Moose and Dorothy were even now picking up the pace of their integrated solos and getting ready to swing Kate back into the chorus. "Hey!" Guy barked, sending a mental alert to the rest of the team via Imra at the same time. "Get away from that RIGHT NOW!" The man - big, burly, dressed all in black with a night-ops optic hood over his head - whirled in a defensive crouch, then seemed to relax somewhat, sizing his opponent up as a mere boy in his early teens, and an unarmed one at that. "Free tip, kid," he snarled. "Get lost. Things are gonna get kinda hot down here in a minute." Then he turned back to setting up his device, which looked like a squat metal tank with an electronic device wired to the top of it. Guy, who had picked up a thing or two about demolitions from his twin sister Priss's occasional obsession with it, thought it was probably an incendiary device of some kind. That was good in that it wouldn't just blow Kate and the band sky-high; on the other hand, who knew how fast a fire started by it would spread? "I said get away from that!" Guy snapped. He dashed forward. Taken slightly aback that this punk kid would attack him, the bomber turned again, his body language showing clear surprise, and raised his hand. A small blaster pistol popped out of his sleeve and whined a scarlet bolt of energy at Guy. The charging redhead didn't slacken his pace; he just slipped aside and let the bolt whiz by him, the faint green glow from the back of his left hand intensifying as he moved. His speed increased to amazing levels, and the bomber had just enough time to think, Aw sprock, the kid's chipped, before Guy plowed into him with a solid shoulder block to the midsection. Grunting, he stumbled back, but it didn't hurt much - his black costume was armored, and Guy's shoulder took the brunt of the impact. The redhead backed off, slightly stunned. Snarling, the bomber leveled his blaster again. A second later there was a distinctive snapping hiss, a green-white flash, and the bomber had no blaster - for that matter, he seemed to have misplaced his right hand. Screaming, he fell to his knees, clutching at the stump with his remaining hand, smoke curling up between his fingers. On the stage, Kaitlyn began the final reprise of the chorus. "Living in the limelight, the universal dream Of those who wish to seem" "Good work, Guy," said Kyouichi Saionji, putting away his lightsaber. "Thanks," Guy replied, shaking the cobwebs from his head. "Those who wish to be must put aside the alienation Get on with the fascination" "You guys - better get outta here," the bomber grunted through his teeth. "In about 50 seconds... this place... is goin' up! Get it?" "The real relation, the underlying theme The real relation The underlying theme!" Rather than returning to the dreamy tempo of the solo, the band didn't slacken their pace as they swung into an upbeat outro, Moose's bass dueling good-naturedly with Kaitlyn's keyboards. Below, Guy and Saionji, neither of them particularly skilled at explosives disposal, looked over the bomb, trying to figure out how to disable it. On its display, the seconds ticked down, but neither the Duelist nor the young adventurer thought of fleeing. Ignored, the bomber struggled to his feet and started running down the service corridor. He nearly spitted himself on Shiori Takatsuki's saber before backpedaling to a halt. "Going somewhere, stud?" the raspberry-haired girl asked him with a sweet little smile that clashed badly with the venomous look in her violet eyes. He whirled, took a step back toward the bomb, hoping he could still get far enough beyond it on the other side, and nearly drove himself onto T'skaia Vorokoshiga'ar Ixtixtaaqitl't'chl'Vraihelt Ishkarat's gleaming blade instead. "No," said the t'skrang Duelist with a sardonic little smile, "I don't believe he is." "You guys are crazy!" the bomber cried. He turned to face Shiori again, then reached up with his remaining hand and yanked the hood off his face, revealing a face made pasty-white by fear and pain and bulging, watery grey eyes. "We gotta get outta here!" "Not going to happen," Shiori informed him pleasantly. She nudged the point of her saber up under his chin and asked him, "How about you turn off the bomb?" By a curious coincidence, the Art of Noise completed their song squarely on the dot of nine o'clock, finishing with a thunderous roll from Dorothy's drum kit. The split-second of silence between the end of the music and the beginning of the cheers fell, according to Clarissa Broadbank's watch, precisely on the stroke of nine. The blonde smiled and waited for the alarms, the smoke, the panic. Kaitlyn's triumphant moment, right at the end of her new song about how nice it was to be oh so famous, snatched away in a welter of confusion and fear. Nothing happened. She gave it a couple of minutes, into the next song (some sappy love song Kate dedicated to her stupid half-brother), before she started to get annoyed. That stupid man! Couldn't -anyone- be counted on to do what they were paid to do nowadays? What in the world could have gone wrong with such a simple job? She sat and seethed for several minutes, through that song and into the next one, before she suddenly realized that Kaitlyn's redheaded girlfriend was gone from the front row. Clarissa was too far back to see details, but that flaming orange hair was easy to spot, and it wasn't there any more. For that matter, the pink smudge of Tenjou's hair was gone too, and the front row was looking particularly sparse. Cold fingers tickled their way up Clarissa's spine. She got up out of her seat and pushed her way to the aisle, dashed up to the first stairwell leading into the Colosseum's interior, and pelted down it. She had to get out of here. Those stinking Duelists had a mindtapper on their team - if she wrung out of Feldar who hired him - She rounded the corner onto the concourse and ran straight into a fist. "Oops!" she heard a voice cry as she fell, stunned, to the floor. "Sorry about that! You should really watch where you're going." Hands came down to help her to her feet, and then the voice went on, "Oh, Clarissa! I'm -so- sorry. I was just coming up to see if you were enjoying the show." Clarissa shook her head, felt at her lip - it wasn't cut, but it was certainly sore - and focused on the person who had knocked her down and was now helping her solicitously up. Her heart sank as she recognized the garish pink hair and vapid blue eyes of Kaitlyn's little Outer Rim galpal, Utena Tenjou. In that same instant, Utena's demeanor changed from solicitous to furious; her eyes hardened, her face darkened, and her grip on Clarissa's arm became painful when the blonde tried to pull herself away. "Ohh, no," she hissed. "You're not going -anywhere-." "Let me go!" Clarissa cried, wrenching ineffectively at her arm. "Let me GO! HELP! POLICE!" A uniformed New Avalon city cop rounded the corner the next moment, and for a second Clarissa felt relief; then the clod ("KASTERBORG", according to his nametag) stopped, -saluted- Utena, and said, "This her, Captain Tenjou?" Utena nodded. "This is her," she replied. "Clarissa Broadbank. AEGIS scan on the bomber names her as the client." The cop nodded. "Good catch." "Thanks," said Utena as she allowed the officer to relieve her of her prisoner. A moment later, the tall, violet-garbed figure of Martin Rose, ranking New Avalon Police Department official on the scene, rounded the corner, accompanied by several of the Duelists and Imra Ardeen. "Miss Broadbank, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit arson," he informed her. "Good work, Kasterborg." "Captain Tenjou made the collar," the officer informed him, saluting. "I'm just cleaning up." "Well, good work cleaning up, then," Rose replied. "Read her her rights and take her downtown." Kasterborg nodded and moved to take Clarissa away, then paused when Imra held up a hand. "One moment, please, Officer. I'm an International Police officer investigating an attempt on the lives of IPO personnel. Under the International Police Accords, that entitles me to ask this suspect a few questions." The cop looked to Hammer, who nodded. Imra turned to Clarissa. "Were there any others besides Feldar?" "Wouldn't you like to know," Clarissa spat, more bravado than actual hostility. Imra nodded to Kasterborg. "Thank you, Officer," she said. "That'll be all." Utena savored Clarissa's look of hatred for a moment as the cop hauled the girl away, before turning to Rose and Imra. "Well?" she asked. "No others," Imra replied, "as I suspected. She thought one would do. Unfortunately, if she tries something like this again, that's a lesson she'll probably have learned." Utena snorted. "Maybe some jail time will teach her a different lesson." "She won't do time," Hammer grumbled. "Her father has good lawyers on a short leash and it's her first offense. She'll get probation. If that." The purple-garbed detective shook his head. "Man, am I cynical today. I gotta take a vacation." "Probation?!" Utena blurted. "She tried to burn down the freakin' Colosseum!" Hammer nodded. "Sure, but she's a teenager from a prominent family. She'll cry and claim it was a prank that got out of hand, that Feldar took her too seriously, and so forth. I hate to say it, but she's gonna get away with it." He sighed. "But it's a start. You can only play the first-offense card once, after all." "I -guess- that's something," said Utena. "Listen - we don't have to disrupt the show for this, do we?" "No, I don't think so," replied Rose. "I trust Agent Ardeen's reading, and my special squad and some of your people are sweeping the rest of the tunnels just in case. I think we're clear." He turned to look back in the direction Kasterborg and his prisoner had gone, shook his head, pulled down his scarf and sighed. "Poor kid. It's not even really her fault she's turned out this way." "I dunno how you can say that," Wakaba disagreed. "Liza and Mary both came from the same conditions, and they both turned out fine. OK, so, Liza had a few bumps along the way," she added as Juri and Utena gave her looks. "Yeah, but Clarissa's the middle one," Martin observed. "It's always hardest for them, in a family like that." He shook off his glum mood. "Ah, well. Let's enjoy our victory, fleeting though it may be. Kait's probably wondering where her front row got to." The rest of the show went spectacularly, exceeding Kaitlyn's wildest hopes. She and the rest of the Art -did- connect with the crowd, vast though it was. They -did- manage to turn this enormous barn into an intimate venue. They rocked the Colosseum to its concrete roots, playing old favorites, new songs, and classic covers with gleeful abandon. Kate's traditional mid-show instrumental, where she noodled with her rack of keyboards while the rest of the band took a breather, was a techno-rock revamp of, of all things, the official march of the Irken Elite, complete with a pounding sequenced backbeat and samples from the pre-battle speeches of one of Irk's most renowned Invaders, the mighty Zim. They played five encores, the last of them a rollicking, free-form jam session with Cthia, who were re-welcomed to the stage with tumultuous applause. When they finally finished for the last time, Kaitlyn, riding the wave of euphoria that came from this crowning moment of the best summer of her life, stepped to the microphone she used for singing on non-keyboard songs, right out front, and declared, "Thank you all for coming! Thank you and GOOD NIGHT!" "And that's the way things are in the Free Galaxy tonight. For Big Time TV News, I'm Nanami Jinnai. Coming up next: All Hit Videos with Blank Reg." The reporter nodded her honey-blonde head, cuing her antique PZ-61 editor droid to dissolve back to the shot of the Colosseum emptying out and roll the credits over it, then sighed, smiling. She usually didn't like going on pulse-of-the-galaxy assignments since becoming a big time (pun intended) reporter, but for this one she'd make an exception. Peasy stood for a few moments with his head cocked as if in deep thought, then retracted his transmitter dish into his back and straightened up. "Transmission complete," he reported. "Thanks, Peasy," Nanami replied. She scanned the upper concourse, gauging how long she'd have to wait before the departing crowd thinned to the point where she'd feel like pushing her way through it, and spotted a familiar splash of blue a couple of galleries down. "Hey! Truss! Truss!" she called, waving. John Trussell, ace reporter for Network 23, turned, looked around, then noticed her and waved back. A few moments later, he and his less purpose-built but more versatile cameradroid joined her by the concourse rail. "I see our producers had the same idea," said Truss with a smile. Nanami laughed. "I'm my own producer," she told him. "Reg makes suggestions sometimes, but I run the show in the news department." "Must be a lot of work," Truss observed. "I've seen you covering things all over the Tri-Sector Area." Nanami blinked, a faint hint of color coming into her cheeks. "You watch my show?" "Whenever I can," Truss replied. "I like to keep an eye on the competition," he added. Big Time's mobile headquarters tended to stay docked at Babylon 6 these days, after all, and Truss was based out of there as well, even with his network's HQ relocated to Salusia. The young reporter's blush deepened slightly. "Me? Competition for you?" Then she seemed to catch herself; she straightened up, grinned and said, "Sure, that's why I watch your show, too." Truss chuckled. "You headed back to Babylon 6?" "Soon as I can get a flight," Nanami replied. "We can give you a lift," Truss told her. "Plenty of space on the Swordbreaker." Nanami blinked and started following him out of the stadium, Peasy and Gene following behind. "Isn't that... I dunno, fraternizing with the competition or something?" The blue-haired reporter grinned. "If my bosses complain, I'll tell 'em I'm paying back Big Time for the ride you gave Edison Carter." "OK... well... when are you leaving? I figured you'd want to see your daughter - she's sort of with the band, isn't she?" "She doesn't need her old man underfoot tonight," Truss replied. "Besides, she's going back to school on Jeraddo next week - I'll see her then. I've got to get back anyway - Murph wants us to cover the Cardassian border dispute." "Ah, the eternal Cardassian border dispute," Nanami said with a knowing nod. "I'm not sure that's even -news- any more," she went on with a skeptical look. "It is when the human colonists on two of the disputed worlds have an uprising." "What?! Dammit! I have -got- to develop better sources in that sector. Never mind Babylon 6, just take me out there!" "I think that -would- raise some ethical questions," Truss remarked, "but we can discuss it on the way... " No one would have expected two of the most successful bands in the Inner Sectors to finish up their triumphant summer tour by adjourning for dinner at an obscure little local place like MacCready's Burgers and Chili up in the quiet Crescent Heights district - which was precisely why they did it. Not that there would have been any room for a mob to congregate anyway; Cthia, the Art of Noise, the Duelists' Society, the Order of the Rose, and various local friends crammed the small diner to capacity. They celebrated giddily, long into the night, consuming a prodigious quantity of cherry Coke and the establishment's famous chili. Toasts were raised with sodas and milkshakes to the new Cthia, the Irregular Projects Tour, the Valiant and her captain, and as many other good things as people could think of to toast. To the delight of Kaitlyn's friends, she didn't suffer a crash after this show as she had after the one on the New Orleans. Rather, as evening became the wee hours of Sunday morning, she eased gently from "euphoric and wired" to "satisfied and sleepy". At one point early in that stage, when the party was beginning to quiet down, Kate stole a couple of Surel's fries, took a sip of her Coke, and said, "I j-just realized... I d-d-don't think w-we'll h-have to w-worry about this p-p-pop-p-pularity th-thing as m-much as I h-have been." Azalynn cocked her head. "What d'you mean?" "W-well," said Kate, "w-we m-made a b-b-big s-splash at T-Titan, right... and then k-k-kept it g-going w-with the c-cont-tinuing t-tour. B-but if w-w-we d-don't app-p-pear for a w-while, then... " She shrugged. "S-something else w-will c-c-come along." Surel considered this, then nodded. "Might be something to that. After your Goldfish Warning, you got a lot of people's attention. Hell, you got -our- attention with it. And if you do drop out of sight for a while, back to school, things will calm down... but don't fool yourself into thinking that it'll ever be quite how it was. You filled the Avalon County Colosseum tonight, and that's never going to go away." He chuckled. "You might not always be Elvis, but you'll always be at least the Stones." "I think we should make a record," Miki mused. "Mostly studio tracks we recorded on the Valiant, but with a couple of the live cuts we caught during the tour - like your duet with Joe Graf at the Sneaky Dee's show," he said, nodding to Kate. "Ever since Titan, I've had more voice mail from record company people than I can listen to," Juri noted. "Reps from every label except Ziggurat." "I d-don't w-want a r-r-record deal," Kate said. "Th-that would g-go ag-g-gainst everything I j-just said." Juri nodded. "I know. I'm just mentioning it." "I didn't mean that either," Miki agreed. "I meant like we did for the live record we made last year in Toronto. Give things a while to quiet down, put it together over the first couple of terms at school, and then offer it quietly on the website." Hmm... m-maybe," Kate said thoughtfully. "Th-there are q-quite a few t-t-tracks on those c-crystals I like. And we ought to c-c-comm-memorate the tour s-somehow." "As long as we don't do it -too- successfully," said Moose with a grin. "As l-long as I can g-go out in p-p-public without p-people f-following me ar-round, I'll b-be h-h... " Here Kate was interrupted by a yawn. "... happy," she concluded. "How about you guys?" Azalynn asked Surel. "I think your part went really well." "Yeah, so it appears. We'll see how things go when the press starts coming in, but so far I like what I've seen." "And it's sure a relief to drop the stupid act," S'Bann agreed, "howEVER it comes out." "Woo HOO!" cried Sanan, brandishing a chili dog. "Attention all ladies: Sanan is now available at Cargo Six!" There was a bit of an awkward silence, broken finally by R. Dorothy Wayneright's one-word review: "Lame." Frozen in his awkward pose, the triumphant grin on his face crumbling, Sanan let the chili dog slip from his hand, secure in the knowledge that Sergei would never let it hit the floor behind him. "Oh my God!" said the skinny Vulcan, his face blanching. "I've forgotten how to be smooth!" "Sanan, you never -were- smooth," said Synok. "Remember that club we played on Dantooine that one time? You went up to that twi'lek girl at the bar and said - " "Dorothy, you've gotta help me!" cried the Cthia keyboardist, clinging to the Art drummer's arm (which earned him a momentary look of actual consternation from her). "They're all picking on me and I've lost my powers!" "Hey!" cried Sketh from the other end of the big corner booth. "Quit pawing at Dorothy, you pathetic loser." "Sketh," said Moose MacEchearn equably, "the sheer... black-kettleness of that remark astonishes me." Dorothy carefully but firmly retrieved her arm and told Sanan, "It wouldn't matter if you had your powers or not. I'm immune to smoothness - and all other organic poisons." "Oooo!" declared Nall Silverclaw, recoiling on Utena's shoulder as if tweaked on the snout. "So much for -you-, keyboard boy!" he added as Sanan slumped in feigned devastation and everyone else laughed. "W-well," said Kaitlyn after another half-hour or so of happy chatter and increased-frequency yawns, "it's b-b-been a g-great day and a g-great t-tour, you g-guys. I w-want to th-thank all of you f-for helping to m-m-make it h-happen." She stood up from her chair at the open side of the corner booth, yawned again and added, "B-but right now I'm t-t-tired and I w-want my b-bed. One of the adv-v-vantages of ending the t-tour here... I g-get to s-sleep in my own b-b-bed after the l-last show." She smiled around at all of them, letting the look say all the rest that she couldn't put into words, and then turned to go. Serge trotted smugly at her heels, his chin up, still pleased with himself for so mightily impressing eighty thousand people tonight. Juri got up from her chair as well, making ready to follow, and as she did she felt a touch on her arm. She glanced down to see Shiori grinning up at her; when they made eye contact, Juri's oldest friend gave her a slightly conspiratorial wink. The redhead chuckled, reached down, ruffled Shiori's raspberry hair, and left the diner. As the chatter picked up again, Shiori didn't rejoin it right away. Instead she sat at the end of the booth staring blankly into space for a moment, until Wakaba nudged her with an elbow and whispered, "(Hey. You OK?)" "(She mussed up my hair,)" Shiori replied. "(She hasn't done that since I was six.)" "(Is that bad?)" wondered Wakaba. "(No... )" Shiori murmured; then she snapped back into focus, smiled, and said, "No, that's good." She reached up and combed her hair back into its accustomed style with her fingers, then continued, "It means... I think it means she's finally feeling better." "This place'll do that to a person after a while," Wakaba agreed, putting her arm around Saionji and squeezing him. "Right, Saionji?" "You're always right, Wakaba," said Saionji automatically. He hadn't heard the assertion, because he was listening to Dorothy tell a joke about a Wookiee, the entire focus of which depended on deadpan delivery. By the time she got to her father's house, Kaitlyn was nearly asleep. She opened the front door of 105 Morgan Lane mechanically, took off her shoes without caring much where they ended up, and turned for the stairs, not bothering to stifle another big yawn. Behind her, Juri straightened up the shoes with an indulgent smile, locked the door, and followed. Having decided that tonight he would grace the living room with his majesty, Sergei grumphed his goodnights at the bottom of the stairs. He let it pass gracefully when they weren't acknowledged. The humans were tired, after all. They'd had a long day. The house was dark and quiet; Kate's parents were asleep, her sister was over at her best friend's house, and Guy was still at the party, being feted for his pivotal role in the prevention of Clarissa's evil scheme. (Although Kate didn't know that part, the participants in the tunnel drama having decided it was best to tell her about it -after- the celebrating was all done.) She paused in the second floor hallway, looking wistfully down at the door to what was her middle brother Leonard's room before he'd vanished to the Outer Rim, and Juri caught up to her. Kate found herself embraced from behind, leaned back into it, and made a soft, contented humming noise. "He'll be all right," Juri told her quietly. "I kn-know... b-but I w-w-worry anyw-way," Kate replied. She yawned again, then sighed. "B-bedtime... " In the doorway to her bedroom on the third floor, Kate paused in surprise. Her bedside light was on, the only one in the house aside from the nightlights in the halls and the living room. After a moment, she realized the reason why: Tiny Robo and Lesser Mazinger were standing on the bedside table in guardsman stances, flanking a vase. Puzzled, Kate crossed the room, sat down on the edge of the bed, and examined the situation more closely. Smiling her private smile, Juri went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, change, and give Kate a little time to herself. The vase contained two flowers, big, perfect rose blossoms. One was pure snow white, the other a soft, gentle yellow. Kate leaned down and inhaled their fragrance, smiling, and as she did so, Tiny Robo picked up an object from the table behind it and held it out to her with a quiet "(grr.)" Kaitlyn took the object - a small envelope - and took from inside it a small card. It was blank on the outside, but inside, in small, neat, painstaking handwriting, it read: Kate - Today is the second anniversary of the day we met. We've both been so busy today that I haven't had a chance to point it out, so I got Dad and Anthy to help me with this little surprise. If you hadn't taken me into your life and into your heart, I wouldn't have survived my first year here. I'm absolutely convinced of that. Everything that's followed would never have been. I can't say for certain that our lives will let us stay together, but even if they don't, I'll never forget that truth and you'll always be my friend. I don't have enough space here to say a tenth of the things I should say, so I'll leave it at this: I love you. - Utena Kate re-read the card twice; she'd have done so a third time, but her eyes were filled with tears and she couldn't focus on the letters any more. As she put it back in its envelope and placed it carefully on the stand next to the vase, Juri came out from changing for sleep. The redhead sat down next to her, looking at the vase and the roses, and put her arm around her lover. "From Tenjou?" she asked. Kate nodded. "T-today... w-w-well, yest-terd-day... t-two years ag-go, she c-c-came to d-d-WPI... " Juri smiled. "She's so gallant," she remarked. "It was the first thing I ever truly noticed about her, and even when I resented it I still admired her for it." Kate sniffed back more tears - the lateness of the hour and the emotional load of the day was making her more sentimental even than usual - and nodded, smiling. Then she got up and took her turn in the bathroom. She came back out, paused to smell the roses one more time, then switched off the light and got into bed. What a change, she thought to herself as she snuggled down into the covers with Juri and drifted off to sleep, two years can make. And where will we all be two years from now? When the party at MacCready's finally broke up for good, its participants scattered, many downtown to the Monolith, some to the house on Morgan Lane. "Welp," said Corwin, leaning against his car in the parking lot, "it's been a hell of a summer. You guys have a good... " He looked off to the east, at the brightening pink stripe on the horizon. "... day's sleep. I'll see some of you tomorrow. Or later today. Or whatever." Nall gathered himself up and jumped from Utena's shoulder to Corwin's. This was a little bit of a reversal of the usual situation, so Corwin arched an eyebrow at him, drawing the draconic equivalent of a shrug. "I haven't seen your new digs," the dragon said. "Anyway, they don't need me hanging around," he added, angling his head at the Tenjous. "Unless you were planning to invite 'em over," he went on with a fanged grin. "It's a studio," Corwin muttered, exasperated by the little dragon's usual needling. "What would you suggest, I make 'em sleep on the couches?" "I've slept on worse," Anthy observed. Like the rest of them, she looked tired (though in her case, Utena was of the considered opinion that visible fatigue just made her look that much more... oh... huggable), but she smiled brightly enough. "Utena?" "I'm young," replied Utena with a grin. "I'll probably survive." Corwin blinked. "Uh... well, OK then," he said, then forcibly regrouped his wits and opened the car's back door. They stopped at Kate's to pick up a couple of things (like sleepwear and toothbrushes, but not Chu Chu, who was quite happily sacked out on the living room rug with Serge and wasn't going anywhere), then at the all-night Big Q supermarket on Vespucci Avenue for some basic supplies. The lingering happiness of the show, the triumph of thwarting Clarissa, the camaraderie of the tour-wrap party and the pervading feeling of warm, pleasant tiredness combined to give their preparations for sleep a festive air. Once everyone was dressed for bed and he'd put the spare blankets and pillows on the couches, Corwin blacked the windows against the inconsiderate morning sun and bade his guests goodnight. As he climbed into bed and shut off the light on his bedside stand, he noted to himself how odd it felt not to be going to sleep with the constant background hum of a starship around him for the first time since June, except for that one night in Beltane. He also grudged Nall his place on the couch with Utena, but only a little - after all, without the dragon's little suggestion, he'd be spending his first night in his new home alone, and this was a lot better than that. A little odd... ... but what wasn't with those two? He smiled, curled up, and went to sleep. When the sleepers on the top floor of the World Wide Building woke, it was mid-afternoon. They made breakfast anyway, using the supplies they'd stopped that morning to pick up. While they ate it, Corwin and the Tenjous discussed their plans for Christmas vacation, plans originally formulated by Corwin and Anthy back at the start of the tour, while Nall kibitzed. "Well, kids," said Nall when he'd finished his breakfast, "'bout time for me to head out, I think. I've got a date to help Umi's father do some work around the yard." Corwin blinked. "You, working?" Nall looked smug. "I do what I can to help out." "Like that?" Utena inquired. "Of course not," Nall replied. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment; then, in the space of a few moments, he changed, flowing smoothly from his housecat-like basic form to the humanoid shape he'd first sported at Utena and Anthy's wedding reception. He wasn't dressed in Draconian court robes this time, though; just normal, rugged street clothes, the type a person might well wear for a day's work in the yard. "Oh," said Utena. "Well, that's... say. Wait a second." "Mm?" said Nall nonchalantly, but he began edging toward the elevator all the same. "You've got a human form." "Well, yeah." "And you're dating a humanoid girl," Utena continued. "Uh... uh-huh," said Nall, still trying to seem breezy about the whole thing. Utena got up from her chair and took a step toward him. "And I let you sleep - " Nall returned to his cat form with a soft 'poink', hovering at eye level with lazy wingbeats, and said, "What's the problem? Was I not a gentleman? Did I not keep my paws to myself?" "That's not the -point-, you little - " She took a swipe at him, but he dodged nimbly out of the way. "Hey, relax!" Nall told her, hovering just out of reach. "Don't worry about it! I'm a dragon. We have different ways of looking at things." "Not -that- different, apparently," Utena shot back. "Different enough," Nall insisted. Daring her wrath, he swooped in, half-circled her, and landed on her shoulder, pressing himself apologetically against her cheek. "Look, I'm sorry if you're upset. I really didn't even think of it. Honest. I'm not trying to pull something. It's just... -different-." She opened her mouth to remonstrate with him some more, then noticed the mostly-concealed little smile on Anthy's face, mainly given away by the twinkle in her emerald eyes. Seeing that, Utena paused, feeling a bit silly. Then she reached up, took hold of the little dragon by the scruff of his neck, and held him in front of her face. "It still wasn't very nice of you not to remind me," she insisted. Nall shrugged, spreading his forepaws. "I said I was sorry. I didn't think of it either. Cognitive dissonance is a powerful thing! Not being a shapeshifter yourself, you probably couldn't understand." Utena put one fist on her hip, holding onto him with the other one, and gave him a stern look for a moment; then she sighed and let herself smile. "OK," she said. "I'll take your word for it. This time." Nall drooped. "Does this mean I lose my lap license?" Utena laughed and turned him loose; he fell a foot or so, caught himself with his wings and hovered back up as she replied, "We'll see. Now get out of here, you pirate, before I change my mind." "OK," said Nall. He lunged forward, planted a raspy little lick on the end of her nose, said, "Later, all! Nice place, Rocket Boy!" and then beat it through the open skylight. Utena watched him go, reached up and rubbed at the tip of her nose, and then turned to Anthy. "You've had that figured out all along, haven't you?" "Of course, dear," Anthy replied mildly. "Drink your cocoa before it gets cold." "But you - why didn't... " Utena made an exasperated noise and sat down. "You know, my love," she observed as she buttered another waffle, "I'm starting to believe that you're just a little bit evil." "Of course I am," Anthy replied with an unconcerned little smile. "It keeps me interesting." Corwin snickered; Utena tried to give him a dirty look, but her heart wasn't in it, and soon they were all laughing. There it is again, he thought happily as he poured himself a glass of milk. That same... rightness... I felt up on the platform. I'm glad I made this happen. This is the way things should be. As long as there are moments like this in it, this will be a good life, he added to himself as he passed Anthy the jam jar. Good enough. That evening, the two bands and the rest of the Valiant's former crew gathered one more time, this time in a slightly more formal setting - dinner at the Black Angus Steakhouse, one last gathering before they went their separate ways. The Valiant's "token adults" were going back to their old jobs; Kozue was staying in New Avalon to start at Corwin's school, Fritz Koopman High. And, of course, Cthia were bound the next morning for Corellia to start recording an album in their new (old) style. The first wave of press on their dramatic transformation at the Colosseum was in, and it was almost universally positive. The bits that weren't, it was fairly obvious from context that those reviewers just didn't get it. Millenium Records was thrilled and wanted the new Cthia in stores and on tour as soon as possible. "So I guess it's back to the salt mines for us," said Surel. "You guys want to do a track with us on our new crystal?" "That reprise we all did of 'The Kids Are Alright' during the jam session rocked," said Sketh, pausing for a moment to wolf down a chunk of prime rib. "If we could catch that in a bottle we'd have a -huge- single." "Let's give Kate's quiet-things-down plan some time to work before we go making a single with the biggest band in the galaxy," said Moose wryly. "You could use an assumed name like we did," Synok suggested. "I'll th-think about it," Kate promised. "I l-liked that one t-t-too." "So you guys are heading back to school next week?" Sanan inquired. "Friday's course registration day," Wakaba confirmed. "Lucky you! We have to start -tomorrow-," grumbled Shiori. "Come to DSM," Wakaba replied with a shrug. "Every day's a party." Shiori chuckled. "No, thank you," she replied. "Someone's got to stay and look after the Academy with all the -best- students gone to Midgard. You gave the school your name, Prince Tenjou, but you cleaned the place out in the process!" she added with mock annoyance, waggling her fork at Utena. Sketh gave Utena an odd look. "'Prince'?" "Long story," Utena replied. "I'll bet," Sketh agreed, then declined to pursue it further by attacking a roll. Keiko Sonoda laughed. "Besides," she said, "if Shiori went to your new school, Wakaba, she'd just end up taking the place over. She's quite the force in the new student government. I wouldn't be surprised if she wins the bye-election for president." "Keiko exaggerates, as usual," said Shiori. "My money's on Tsuwabuki." The blond boy choked on his soup. "Me?! I couldn't be president! I'm too young!" "Touga Kiryuu was too -dumb-," Keiko pointed out, "but that didn't stop -him-." Saionji laughed aloud, a rare enough occurrance that everyone paused for a moment to savor it, and said, "You know, she has a point, Mitsuru. An oversimplified one, admittedly, but a point all the same. If you're elected, serve with honor." "Uh... I... I will," replied Tsuwabuki, with the air of a young man who is quite sure something has just passed clean over his head. After dinner, the five Vulcans took their leave of the rest with promises to stay in touch an a tentative plan to get together for a reunion show sometime within the next year. Corwin graciously returned those who needed to be there to Tenjou Academy, taking the opportunity to check on the World-Engine while he was there. On Monday, Anthy Tenjou sat the Deedlit Satori Mandeville Memorial Institute admissions and placement examination, proctored by Professor Kraalgh vestai-Kalaan, the Institute's Klingon-language teacher and the Duelists' Society's faculty advisor. The summer's hard work in preparation for this test proved not to be wasted. The test was hard, the hardest written test Anthy had ever faced in her life - but she passed, ensuring that, so long as she scored passing marks in her courses, she would graduate with her husband. At the same time, downtown, Kozue Kaoru was sitting another kind of examination - the one for certification as a starship's master. She, too, felt it was the hardest academic test she'd ever faced; but like Anthy, she had been well and carefully prepared for it, and like Anthy, she passed. Their friends used both victories as a collective excuse for yet another celebration, invading The Original Toscanini's New Avalon location in a cheering mass for ice cream. For the next couple of days, the DSM Duelists and friends loitered around New Avalon, seeing the sights and enjoying the little bit of complete downtime at the end of their summer's tour. Moose MacEchearn's parents came to visit him, and aside from he and his mother nearly getting arrested by the Avalon County Port Authority Police just for saying hello on the arrivals concourse at Mathews Memorial, a happy time was had by all. Thursday morning, those who would be returning to Jeraddo gathered at Kaitlyn's parents' house to say their goodbyes to those who would remain. "Well... I guess this is goodbye for now, Guy," said Mimi Shinguuji to Kate's youngest brother. "It's been a great summer. I wish you'd decided to come to DSM. B'Elanna and I are going to need to recruit more Duelists with most of the originals graduating this year," she added with a grin. Guy nodded and replied, "I thought about it a lot, but... " He glanced across the room, at the spot where his twin sister Priss and her best friend Sylvie were making it as clear as possible to Miki Kaoru that they hated to see him leave New Avalon so soon, and grinned. "Jeraddo's not ready for all three of us, and I can't leave those two alone. Who knows what kind of trouble they'd get into?" Mimi laughed. "You might have a point there. Well, come visit us sometime, huh?" Guy smiled. "Sure," he said. "I'll hitch a ride with Corwin some weekend." "That'll be good," Mimi said. "Well... take care of yourself, Guy." "You too, Mimi. Good luck finding new Duelists." "Thanks," she said, laughing. Then she ducked in quickly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you around!" Guy was still standing there, smiling a little to himself as he leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, when Sylvie suddenly seized one arm and Priss the other. "Hey," said Sylvie, "she -kissed- you." "I noticed," said Guy with a grin. "And you didn't fall over!" Priss added. "Nope," Guy replied. Sylvie and Priss bent down and looked at each other across his chest. "This is new," said Sylvie. "It has possibilities, though," Priss noted. "It has indeed." Guy's grin widened a little; he took his hands out of his pockets, put an arm over each girl's shoulders, and then, while they were still surprised that he'd done that, took their outboard earlobes firmly (but not painfully) between thumbs and forefingers. "We're going to have to talk about a few new ground rules for this year, girls," he said. Priss and Sylvie blinked at each other across him, then grinned slowly at each other. "Definite possibilities," Sylvie mused. Across the living room from the reunited twins, another pair prepared to say goodbye. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry," Kozue Kaoru chided herself sheepishly as she wiped at her cheeks. "It's OK," Miki replied. Smiling, he thumbed the nearest tear gently away. "At least we're -choosing- to be apart this time." Kozue laughed through her tears. "Yeah - there's that," she said. "Listen - you take care of yourself, all right? And call me. I'm gonna go buy a mobilecomm sometime this weekend, and I'll email you the code." "OK," said Miki with a nod. "Let me know when the good times are." "Anytime's a good time," Kozue told him. "Really. Just call anytime you want." "I'll try to keep it reasonable." "Anytime," Kozue insisted. "All right, all right," Miki surrendered, chuckling. "Anytime." He put his hands on her shoulders and became serious. "The same for you, then. If you need me for anything, tell me and I'll be here as fast as I can." "Don't worry about me," Kozue said. "I'll be OK." "I don't doubt it," Miki replied; then he smiled wryly and added, "But I hope you want me to come visit you sometime anyway." "Of course I do. And when we get my Headhunter working I'll come and show it to you." "That'll be nice." Kaitlyn's father entered the room, smiling and looking brisk, and the assembled students stopped talking and turned to attend his words as he spoke. "Well! Everybody ready?" There was a round of affirmatives. "OK, so, let me see if I've got this straight. You two," he said, pointing to Utena and Anthy, "are going with Corwin." "Right," said Utena. "So the rest of you," he went on, gesturing more generally, "are coming with me." Another round of affirmative sounds. "Right," said Gryphon. He passed out IPO commbadges to those who were taking the VIP ride back to Jeraddo on Challenger. "If everybody's really ready, then I guess it's time for us to go." Miki turned to his sister. "Take care of yourself, Kozue," he said. "Have I already said that?" "No, but I did," Kozue replied, chuckling. "One more thing before you go." "What?" In response to the question, Kozue grabbed her brother by the head and kissed him - not for very long, but fairly hard. "Love you," she whispered when she let him go. Slightly flustered, he replied, "Ah... I love you too." Then he kissed her back - on the forehead this time - and stepped back to be ready for beaming. "I know," Kozue told him with a grin, and then he was gone. In the opposite corner, Sylvie and Priss glanced across Guy again, wearing almost identical "Did I just see that?" expressions. "Don't even think about it," Guy said mildly. /* They Might Be Giants "The End of the Tour" _John Henry_ */ Eyrie Productions, Unlimited There's a girl with a crown and a presented sceptre UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES Who's on WLSD FUTURE IMPERFECT And she says that the scene isn't - Symphony of the Sword No. 3 - what it's been Entr'acte: The End of the Tour And she's thinking of going home That it's old and it's totally over now The Cast And it's old and it's over it's over (in order of appearance) now Kaitlyn Hutchins And it's over it's over it's over now Sergei I can see myself Harcourt M. McKenzie Cthia/The Illogics At the end of the tour Juri Arisugawa When the road disappears R. Dorothy Wayneright If there's any more people around The Hon. J. Maurice MacEchearn IV When the tour runs aground Elisabeth R'tas Shustal And if you're still around Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan Then we'll meet at the end of the tour Utena Tenjou The engagements are booked through the Benjamin D. Hutchins end of the world Corwin Ravenhair So we'll meet at the end of the tour Zefram Cochrane Anthy Tenjou Never to part since the day we met Urd Snowmane Out on Interstate 91 Kei Morgan I was bent metal you were a flaming Clef, Master Mage of Cephiro wreck Mitsuru Tsuwabuki When we kissed at the overpass Kanae Ohtori I was sailing along with the people Miki Kaoru Driving themselves to distraction Shiori Takatsuki inside me Clarissa Broadbank Then came a knock at the door which Imra Ardeen was odd B'Elanna Torres And the picture abruptly changed Wakaba Shinohara Gai "Guy" Morgan At the end of the tour Denk Feldar When the road disappears Kyouichi Saionji If there's any more people around T'skaia Vorokoshiga'ar When the tour runs aground Ixtixtaaqitl't'chl'Vraihelt Ishkarat And if you're still around Mark Kasterborg Then we'll meet at the end of the tour Martin Rose The engagements are booked through the Nanami Jinnai end of the world PZ-61 So we'll meet at the end of the tour John Trussell G-3N3 This was the vehicle these were the Nall Silverclaw people Lesser Mazinger You opened the door and expelled all Tiny Robo the people Keiko Sonoda This was the vehicle these were the Sumire Shinguuji people Priss Morgan You opened the door and expelled all Sylvie Daniels the people Kozue Kaoru This was the vehicle these were the people Stage Manager You let them go Benjamin D. Hutchins At the end of the tour Vulcan Poetry Translator When the road disappears Kris Overstreet If there's any more people around When the tour runs aground Support And if you're still around John Trussell Then we'll meet at the end of the tour The engagements are booked through the More Support end of the world Anne Cross So we'll meet at the end of the tour Connivance And we're never gonna tour again The Usual Suspects No we're never gonna tour again The last two lines are not a hidden message They're just part of the song The Symphony will return E P U (colour) 2002