The Writing on the...Um...Door.

Slowly, the rain and the wind serve to cool Moses off. But it takes a long while.

Then Zipporah is next to him, leaning into him, singing softly. Rain hasn’t hit him for some time now, simply landing elsewhere in response to her. He leans into her as well – carefully.

“We know she’s going to betray us. Or, even if she doesn’t, Goshi will find her and get the information out of her. They’ll know where we’re going, and they’ll follow us. They’ll find…wherever it is we’re going, and then…it’ll be like here. For whatever Karians live there. It’ll be like here.” He can’t look at her. She watches him, looks out into the night and the quieting storm, looks back now and then.

Around them, at various points on the ship, are the sparking remains of ruined communications gear. Now it's just an embarrassment, and Moses can’t look at it either.

“I understand Rei. She’s messed up, and Aimi is her sister, and she…does stupid things sometimes because her thinking is all wrong. Well, maybe sister isn’t the right word. Test-tube-mate, or something like that. And…well, I know Rei will stick up for her. Whatever. But Kyoshi? He’s…he doesn’t…I thought he was, I dunno, changing.” Moses glances at Zipporah out of the corner of his eye, and she’s not looking but listening with all of her self, trying to seem casual. “I guess some people sort of…don’t. But…dammit. I dunno. He threatens us like…like an asshole, that’s what. Like an asshole.” Moses doesn’t go on to say what else he’s thinking, but he glares into the night and his armored fist clenches.

“I’m glad I took her glove, whatever it is, and smashed it. If you’d met her before, you’d see – she’s a lot less cocky without it. Kyoshi is probably like that. Take that sword, and what’s left? A skinny guy in a kimono with a stick up his ass.” Zipporah lays a cool hand on his shoulder. Without noticing, he relaxes slightly.

“Aimi, she’s just being who she is. Nasty, tempermental, cocky – well, not as much now – selfish. I wish…” he trails off. “I wish a lot of things.”

They stand, swaying with the motion of the ship, for a long while.

“It feels like a long time ago, when this all started. What…well, what ruined my life...at the time. Killed a lot of people. It started lots of places, but one place it started was with me, down in the mines. I told you about those” she nods slightly, now watching him, unreadable, “and a little about what happened. Someone…someone pushed me, pushed us, too far. He – they – treated us like we were tools. Like we didn’t matter. And if we didn’t do what they said, they’d threaten, and then they’d…they’d hurt us. Our families. Telling us what we had to do, what we had to risk so they could get rich. Threatening.” He pauses.

“I’m not going to live like that ever again.” After a while, “But if I talk to him now, and he does it again, I…I don’t know if I’ll be able to just hit the door. And he’s – dammit! – he’s acting like an idiot! Can’t he see? Its so obvious!”

Zipporah smirks despite herself. “What’s obvious? Moses. Listen. He’s not…he’s not thinking very clearly. He’s…Moses, he’s in love.”

A long pause. “I know.” He sighs. “I just don’t get it. She’s…Zip, she’s such a bitch. I mean, she’s like Rei, but without the redeeming qualities.” Zipporah raises an eyebrow. “Exactly. And Kyoshi’s family is pretty rich, and, you know, they didn’t come from vats or anything. Allskins are made…uh…the old-fashioned way” they share a little smile at that, at the new and strange thing – them together, over a month now “and they’re all about tradition and honor. Honor! The thing that Aimi is, like, the opposite of. I mean, compared to her, Rei is honorable. I mean, come on. Rei.”

Zipporah smiles more broadly. “Oh yes, Moses, that’s a very good point. They are quite different, aren’t they?” She brushes his thigh with her tail, then laughs at him and looks away. It’s a bit infectious, and Moses, far from laughing, grins and pulls her closer. “Imagine that – two people so different…falling in love.”

Moses quiets, becomes more still.

In Prill now, “Zipporah, you know –“

“Yes.”

It’s still hard for him to say it out loud.

In the dark, their silhouettes meld for a few moments, then separate again, still standing close.

“Well, I’ve still got some metal. And since I won’t get to bolt Aimi to the deck – and I was really looking forward to that – I’ll put it to another use.”

They are out on the deck for a long while yet, until Zipporah has to go to sleep or she’ll fall over. Moses walks her to their room, sits with her until she’s asleep, then locks it behind him.

***

With a gasp, Kyoshi wakes up to the sound of something being spot-welded to his door. There is a bright, red spot that is slowly growing on the inside surface of the door, and when he rushes to get close, he can already feel heat radiating from it. The handle burns his hand slightly as he pulls it open –

And Moses is outside, his right arm ending in a welding torch. He nods at his handiwork, then walks off down the corridor, silent.

Welded to Kyoshi’s door is a hunk of metal, and burned into the surface of it, beneath the fresh, cooling weld, is (in careful, surprisingly smooth script):

Keeoshi. I get it that you love Aymee. But if you want to be my friend, if you want me to stick up for you and fight next to you and trust you, then you never threaten me again. Or our friends. And you never tell me what’s going to happen. Ever. You respect me, or you fight alone. And I’ll fix the other door.

When we let Aimi off the ship, Moses isn’t there. He makes himself busy repairing the ship, with the help of a few of the Rogues who know more about how it works technically. Zipporah is sitting nearby, and suggests that no one talk to him until Aimi is gone.

Episode 21: The Day Una Died Inside

Rei!? Of course. How else? It all happens whether we want it or not.

***

I think that being a pirate has made me a little crazy. And...I didn't really think about how big the ship was going to be. It's like a huge lizard-Vorax thing. It's...I don't even know how they built it.

Doesn't matter now. We're on a barge carrying a load of blackrock onto the ship. We're going to capture it, and go west, and maybe get some answers.

Or make them up, like we have been.

The taste of salt spray makes me glad, one more time, that I switched out my alloys. The shaped titanium is rust-resistant. And it still stops bullets.

The soldiers guarding the barge when it comes up into the ship aren't a problem. I feel a little bad for them because...it doesn't seem fair. But I know how this works - we'll have more than our share to deal with sometime today. All of Goshi's enemies are meeting in one place. The Vorax are going to...do something to themselves and try to blow up the meeting. Or something. And we're stealing the biggest ship on the oceans.

Someone, or something, pretty nasty will have to notice that.

***

Squeezed into a storage locker, I've got a lot of time to think. The nice thing is, I don't. I doze off. I wouldn't have done that before, but I do now. Whatever is coming for us is going to happen, and we'll deal with it. Oni, Hei-Shi, crazy Vorax...whatever. Everything will work out.

I realize what I'm thinking, and that's when I really get nervous.

I hear the fireworks! It's time.

Swelling, surging up and out, it goes past where I think it will, and suddenly I'm looking down on the ship; the others are like mice swarming around my feet - except for one. He's not Kyoshi's brother, but he looks like he means business. He's fast, but it's like fighting a Zipsum - I'm too dense for most of it to get through.

I notice little bursts of black cloud in the sky, and...my heart leaps. I admit it.

I want them here. The mecha-fighter and I agree - first things first.

I squash and scatter blue-beetle Hei-Shi, and the mecha slices them up. I can't tell, behind his mask, but I know I for one am smiling.

For just a bit, I think - I want to go back to Geneva Prime someday, and do this until there aren't any Hei-Shi left.

***

We clear the deck, but there are something like a million soldiers on their way. But this ship has other ships inside of it, and we head down to one of them. I'm eager to get on our way before we get swarmed, and we're all tired. (Well, not Highdive). We go down into the hold - I'm carrying a huge container of blackrock. We reach the smaller ship, still bigger than anything I've been on but the blackrock barge, but someone's beaten us there. Kyoshi goes down to deal with whoever it is...

Aimi.

I remember when we first met, and I made her a promise.

I keep my promises.

She's tricky - she's going to stab Kyoshi so he can't move, and then probably run when she sees Rei - I don't think she can fight them both. So I hunker down next to the door to grab her when she goes past. I know my one shot is to just smother her and not let go until...

Well. I don't wait long. I time it so before I even see her pink hair I'm on top of her, using my weight and size. Rei is coming up after her. Everything goes red-tinged, and I'm back in the blackrock mine, fighting Goshi, seeing people die, smashing Hei-Shi and eyeless, and here she is, all the way from that past I wanted to leave behind. I can end it here. Kyoshi will be furious, and she's Rei's sister, but Aimi will never learn. Titanium is a lot harder than bone. I -

"Moses, don't hurt her!"

Aimi goes limp under me, and Rei is there, but I don't look up.

And I realize...I don't want to kill her. I just want her to leave us alone.

But she never will.

Rei and Kyoshi and Aimi talk, and I start building a steel cage for her out of the broken container of blackrock. She laughs at the ropes Rei takes out.

Lets see her laugh at being bolted to the deck.

***

Outside, the clear, bright air fills with wonder on wings - a flight of Vorax, the last flight, circling and dancing on the thermals, flitting along the paths of the breezes, turning and falling and climbing, twisting around each other. Una is watching.

She watches as they dance, trying to remember, to save this moment forever.

And then it changes. The dance turns. The Vorax are swooping down and tearing into people down below. But one of them swells and grows. His aged skin splits and his entrails pour out of him, wrapping around, crawling across his swelling form, viscera and tendons and muscle glistening sickly in the sun

His beak unhinges, swells, grows, thickens, his eyes bloat and slide out of their growing sockets, followed by gouts of thick, dark blood.

A voice shakes the air, so that we all hear it, the city hears it, Una hears it as if she is the only one there.

I am Karaku-Oni, The One Who Burns!

Una might try to forget, but she won't.

Yogensha League Summit

Rain looked over the acrylic tablet in front of her, displaying the real-time status of disLocator units deployed, their coordinates, and giving updates on the progress of the engagement. A wounded Hei-shi officer knelt in front of her, the crimson of his blood contrasting luridly with his cobalt body-armor.

"You're certain that the effort to take Rodan is failed?"

He nodded. "We ran into unforeseen resistance. Moses was there, and the others. They did things... I've no explanation for. The Omexon Navy was about to board in full strength and our losses would have been too heavy. Furthermore, if the bridge had been secured as planned the Rodan would already have begun firing on the city, but her engines and her guns were silent. Something went wrong."

Rain grimaced, something went wrong, indeed. The Executor had assured her that his agent (the one he stubbornly refused to identify) would not fail in taking the bridge. It was not like him to miscalculate. Whoever that agent was, he had better be dead. If Blade ever got ahold of him now...

No matter. Rain had survived as Acting Vice President of Security at Goshi Corp longer than her predecessors because she never went into a situation with only one plan. She could pull success out of the jaws of failure yet.

"You are injured. Report to the infirmary, but on the way relay my command to the 7th battalion to initiate the Swarm Protocol."

She turned her back on the Hei-shi as he limped away. Her eyes were avidly scanning the tablet, absorbing information, discerning patterns and making evaluative predictions. There would certainly be costs for her actions, but they were bearable ones and Goshi would be able to count this a significant victory. As she considered the ramifications she knew already what her next three steps would be.

Pacifying the League would need to be done quickly and decisively. A good thing, she thought, that she was the one giving the orders.

She couldn't deny that some small portion of her mind was still annoyed about the former Director Daitokuji Kiyoshi and his companions. 28 years ought to have been sufficient to get that problem taken care of. She thought she had been inordinately clever delivering two of these interlopers to League facilities in Omexon, and a Biomade Oversight Council lab in Marina. As predicted they had escaped, causing significant destruction and earning the enmity of those bodies in the process. Let them be your problem.

Separating them by the length of the continent should have been more of an obstacle, it seemed to her, but when it came to Kiyoshi and friends, reason didn't enter into it.

Nevertheless, she wouldn't obsess about them. The way to solve a mountain is to go around. To defeat an earthquake, take to the air. They were frustrating, true, but she had no doubt that if they attempted to bring their fight directly to Goshi they would be no match, and so long as they stayed at the edges they could only interfere in minor ways.

A whirl of smoke in the air preceded the arrival of a small squad of Hei-shi directly into her office. They immediately snapped to attention. One of them had blood all over his breastplate.

Her expression was stern as she looked them over. "Report."

"Mission successful, Director. With the chaos on the Rodan and around the waterfront no one saw us come in or go out. We encountered almost no resistance."

With one eyebrow raised she nodded to let him know to continue.

"All the members of the command council of the Yogensha League, save the Liaison from Marina and the Mayor of Omexon who we believe were aboard the Rodan during the conflict, were located. Every last one of them is dead."

To Everything, A Purpose

At last the sharp talons release their steel grip, and Jin-Kalys impacts with the hard ground, rolling and sliding to an abrupt stop. He lays still for a moment, taking stock of his condition and coughing quietly in the dust. Up here the cold wind is whipping in from the coast, and he feels sluggish and heavy.

He slowly pulls himself together, realizing that they are all around him. He is surrounded by Vorax. They are tall and fierce and angular, feathers blowing in the sharp wind. And they are very, very angry.

He stands awkwardly, to appear as little like cowering prey as possible.

One of them, not the male who snatched him from a tree where he was resting but another male, older looking, sneers. "I wouldn't believe it until they showed me. An Anakarix. Your people were once wise. Perhaps they still are, but you are some kind of...pariah. But I never would have believed it. An Anakarix, hunting us." He spits on the ground in front of Jin-Kalys. "Sickening".

Jin blinks blearily, clenches his jaws to stifle a yawn brought on by the sunless weather.

"Ah. Now, you see...there has been a misunderstanding -" he begins, but just then a Vorax on the outside of the group yanks on a chain and Varissa comes into view, her eyes darting around and her muscles so tense that she is shaking slightly. "Ah."

The older male continues - no one has introduced themselves thus far. "A misunderstanding? Maybe we jumped to conclusions. From the look of it, you are helping this Jevumm hunt us. Following us from nest to nest like starving vermin. We could've easily evaded you, but I thought perhaps we should talk, before we kill you both."

As a matter of course, Jin-Kalys seems destined to be threatened with death on a regular basis. Gogajin threaten to pummel him if he won't 'shut up about tha bleedin' sun already!' Jevumm want to eat everyone, but can be placated with poetry. Zipsum are disappointed that he is unimpressed by their exploits, and as it turns out, they are also quite territorial. Prill...well, Prill have yet to threaten to kill him, which is quite nice. But these are not Prill. They are about five dozen glaring raptors, flexing claws, shining eyes and beaks.

Jin sighs. "Yes, we were hunting you." There are sounds of surprise and confirmation in the group, and a few produce weapons. Jin quickly continues "But! Not to eat you. I needed to find a Vorax - a particular Vorax - and Varissa was the most direct means by which this could be accomplished. She was...demonstrated to me. It doesn't mater. Now we've found you, or perhaps more accurately, you have found us."

They stare silently, a few coming closer with downright predatory looks. There's only one escape. Keep talking.

"I know what you are doing. What you intend." Surprise, suspicion, growing resolve to kill him. "I know, and it is a hideously terrible idea, and I know that I cannot stop you - I will not even try to do so. Rather, I simply wish to speak with one of you. To speak, briefly, and that is all. After that, I ask that you let me go, and continue with your...intentions."

A few of them exchange glances. They look to an elder Vorax, near the back of the group, who Jin can barely even see. There is a nod, or some other small movement. A new Vorax speaks to him.

"The taste of lizard is disgusting. And we're keeping the Jevumm, to deal with ourselves. But we'll let you go. We have nothing to say to you, but we'll let you go."

Jin swallows, winces slightly. Sighs. "I brought the Jevumm - Varissa - here. I found her, convinced he to help me find you. I cannot allow her..."no, change, bad idea "I cannot...leave her to be killed. Please. I just need to -."

One of the Vorax rushes forward to stand inches from Jin's face - only his long training in meditation keeps him from frantically diving backward. "You need to leave. Now. You've said enough." Then breathing silence. Wind. Distant sea-noises. Predatory silence.

Failure.

***

That night, Jin is surprised by two visitors. The first is a young, lovely, sad Vorax. She hands him a leather satchel, heavily insulated with feathers and fur, reverently. She looks into his eyes. "I knew you would come. Remember us. Tell of what you see tomorrow - our final flight. The last thing the Vorax will do in this world, until we fade and are lost forever." And then she is gone.

The second is Varissa, holding the broken wreckage of her heirloom bow, covered in cuts, scratches, and bruises, limping, furious, ferocious. She hurls the pieces of her bow into Jin's fire and looms over him.

"What could possibly have been worth that? No, don't answer. I'm going to gut you."

Jin doesn't answer, but reaches into the leather satchel and retrieves a single, fist-sized egg.

"Worth it? We'll see." Varissa stops, teeth bared, and slowly relaxes in surprise.

"Is that -"

"Yes. It is. And no, you may not eat it. We have a lot of work to do. If watching this world die doesn't interest you, you need to listen to me, and then we need to decide what to do next."

Episode 20, Part II: Rogues

Omexon.

'The city hasn't changed much,' Rei thought, and pointedly did not adjust her disguise. Not that blue contacts for her eyes was much of a disguise, but when paired with a clothing she felt reasonably sure approximated what a normal nineteen year old Omexan girl might wear, it worked well enough. At the very least, she didn't look like a Goshi Assassin, and that was good. It was all second-hand clothing, and twenty years out of date as far as sty le goes, but that was fine. She'd briefly considering applying makeup to complete the disguise, but discarded it almost immediately. Rei was a girl with many skills, but her grasp of all things domestic went only as far as hearsay. That is to say, she'd heard people say things on the subject, but had never actually been involved in the conversation herself. Neat and functional were her bywords, almost by necessity, but also by choice: she had no desire whatever to be like Aimi.

Omexon was basically a series of concentric crescents. Built on a vast network of terraces descending from the top of the massive sea-cliffs down to sea level, the city made for a truly impressive sight, and the sheer scale of its construction was sure to inspire awe in even the most jaded tourist.

At least, that's what the travel book said. No, really. It's right there in the introduction. Right after the table of contents (which included such gripping entries as 'where to eat' and 'where to shop').

Rei tossed the Omexon Tourist's Guide travel book into a disposal bin outside of the tavern where she was scheduled to meet with her contact. Yes, tavern. Omexon was the sort of Cheldrun city that had taverns. Rei didn't care much for it. She hadn't cared much for it the last time she'd been here, either. Of course, the last time she'd been here, it had been as a tag-along on one of Aimi's early training missions. Technically, she'd been supposed to make sure Aimi didn't get into any trouble, but Aimi and trouble are sort of like salami sandwiches and scrambled eggs: two things which you wouldn't think would go together very well, but inexplicably wind up paired more often than not. But that's another story, and certainly not one that Rei was thinking about.

What was Rei thinking about?
Well, there were a number of things on her mind, the first and foremost of which was murder. Unfortunately, Nero was nowhere within easy reach, so she had to content herself with the second thought that was on her mind: information gathering. She needed to find her friends, after all.

Rei took one last look at the city. The air was still, the sea-breeze curiously absent today. The sky was thick with blackrock smoke, and the forts atop the sea cliffs that bordered the harbour on either side gleamed dully against the twin contrasts of sparkling ocean and murky sky.

She ducked into the tavern.

The first thing Rei did when entering a room was make a note of all of its entrances, exits, and of the positions of everyone in it. It wasn't something she needed to think about anymore - it was second nature. Enter a room, take in the layout and scan the crowd for possible threats. It was a sensible approach to room-entry. Or possibly a paranoid one. Either way, it took her a few seconds to locate her contact, seated as he was at a clean, well-lit, cheerful sort of table in the middle of the room (the dark corners were all, regrettably, occupied).

Rei sat down in front of the man, pointedly ignoring the content of his thoughts. "I was told you had information for me," she said. Her voice was pitched not to carry beyond the table.

He looked at her for a long moment. "... Your disguise sucks, kid," he said.

Rei felt a brief flash of irritation, but gave no outward sign of it.

When she didn't react to his insult, the man smiled, and seemed to relax. "You'd be surprised how often people like yourself get flustered by a comment like that. Downright unprofessional. But seriously, it sucks. Unless you're going for 'social outcast.' Not my business, though. I'm Adelphos." He held out a hand, and it hung there in the air between them for a few moments before he lowered it again.

Rei watched Adelphos, her face blank, showing no visible manifestation of her annoyance. Calmly, she handed him the first of her two datapads, this one showing the descriptions of a motley group of seemingly completely dissimilar people: a male Mechified, a female Vorax, a female Zipsum, a male Prill, a male Allskin. It was not strictly necessary, but they had already established that the handing over of the datapad and its content would be the last signal to confirm her identity to this contact.

Adelphos let out an amused snort as he read the description of the allskin male. "Kid," he said, "If I knew where to find Daitokuji Kiyoshi, I wouldn't be working this place. I'd be living in a mansion in the Park District, squandering my newly acquired fortune of twenty eight years on fine wine, women, and fancy clothes."

"My name isn't 'kid,'" Rei said.

"Oh?"

She was silent for a moment, and in that moment, the mask came down ever so briefly, and Rei looked deeply troubled. Up it went again. Impassive. Stoic. "You can call me Mikomi," she said.

"Mikomi?" Adelphos asked dubiously. "You feeling ironic on your naming day?"

Rei did not reply, but allowed a small fraction of her killing intent to escape from her psychic shields: not enough to truly indicate said intent, but enough that Adelphos and anyone else who happened to be making eye contact with her at that moment felt a chill run up and down his spine.

"Eh," he said, "Fair enough. Anyways, like I was saying, there's nothing I can do to help you find Daitokuji. The others, though, I may have a few leads on. Depending, of course, on what you've got to trade for it."

Rei produced a second datapad, this one containing copies of several files relating to DisLocator research, placed it on the table, and slid it over to Adelphos telekinetically.

Adelphos raised an eyebrow when the datapad slid over to him seemingly of its own accord, but said nothing. He scooped it up and quickly scanned over the information contained therein. After a moment, he whistled appreciatively. "Looks like we're in business, Mikomi. Can't say I've seen any sign of your Karian targets, but the Mechified... well, there's a pirate named Maverick who fits that description. Sails with the Rusty Nail Rogues."

Rei raised an eyebrow. Apparently when Adelphos thought of 'Rusty Nail Rogues' he thought of himself punching a blonde fop in the nose, and of said fop running away crying to... well, that was an odd image. "Never heard of them," she said.

"Neither had I until just recently," Adelphos replied. "They've been making a nuisance of themselves lately. Hitting minor shipments here and there. The Omexan Navy would take them out, but frankly, it's got better things to do. There's supposedly a few coastal villages that cater to the band." He shrugged. "It's all here." He produced a small datapad from his pocket and slid it across the table.

Rei took the datapad. "Thanks," she said.

"Any time, Mikomi." He gave her a considering look. "Hey, tell you what. You ever get tired of your current line of work, I could use someone who knows her way around the finer points of corporate espionage."

Rei didn't bother replying.

The search for the Rusty Nail Rogues consumed the next two days as Rei followed up on the leads she'd been given. She was almost disappointed at how easy it was to find their recruiters in a little village within a few hour's walk north of Omexan. On the plus side, finding their recruiters so quickly had left her with plenty of time in which to get caught up on current events.

The Yogensha League was holding a major summit on the subject of the excesses of the Goshi Mining Corporation. Goshi had diversified its interests, it seemed, no longer simply mining blackrock, but now expanding into the realm of private armies... fully equipped with teleportation devices.

Yeah. That's a doozy. At least, the members of the Yogensha League thought so, hence, the summit to discuss the situation. The plan had been to call Geneva Prime to task for their management of the company, but when Geneva Prime had declined to attend, implicitly throwing its approval behind Goshi's activities, the summit had taken on a much more militant feel. That was the reason for the large crowds in Omexan, and for the ridiculous levels of security that Rei had noticed when entering the city.

All in all, Rei thought that the whole thing made a dreadfully convenient target, and fully expected Goshi to show up with their teleporting troops to assassinate the leaders of their only serious opposition in Cheldrun society. At least, that's what she would have done, if she'd been in charge of Goshi. She was surprised that the summit was even going forward, actually. Especially with such an old-fashioned show of military force as unveiling a new battleship. The Rodan, it was called. The introduction of the DisLocators had changed the playing field: Goshi didn't have to play by the normal rules of warfare anymore, and the members of the Yogensha League apparently had not realized that yet. If Goshi knew its business, it would not give them a chance to do so: once the DisLocators had been conclusively demonstrated, everyone would adapt their tactics and planning accordingly, but until that happened, there was a window of opportunity in which the Yogensha League was uniquely, supremely vulnerable.

It was enough to make a girl grin, and grin she did.

Armed with an evil (Rei would have said 'cheerful') grin, Rei strode confidently into the tavern that she knew the Rusty Nail Rogue recruiter was waiting.

It didn't take long. Five minutes, and the Recruiter was sitting at her table. His name was Raul. He obviously thought that he was handsome, though he didn't spark Rei's interest. Of course, nobody sparked Rei's interest, so perhaps that's not surprising. Rather like trying to judge the image-quality on a kicked in holo-screen: it's only possible if the screen actually works. The Spanish guitars were a nice touch, but ultimately lost on the young Biomade.

"So you're with the Rusty Nail Rogues?" Rei asked. She'd known from the moment they first made eye contact that this was going to be difficult. This 'Raul' was a clever one, hiding his true thoughts behind layers and layers of lust. It was an effective psychic shield, and one that Rei had only encountered before in mundanes who were truly accomplished at resisting telepathic interrogation.

Raul smiled confidently, and his white teeth gleamed in the light. "Raul is willing to discuss the matter," he said, looking Rei in the chest. I mean eye.

His thoughts were full of images of she and he caught up in... well, Rei wasn't terribly familiar with the physics of the act itself, but she was reasonably certain that what he was thinking about now was not physiologically possible. Every thought of his fellows, every thought of the Rusty Nail Rogues led only to the thought of getting laid. 'What a mental defense!' Rei thought to herself, and forced her features to remain carefully neutral. It was exciting, the thought of interrogating a true professional. Rei knew of two ways to break through such a disciplined defense: one was to play into it while carefully, ever so carefully worming through the cracks in the facade until the whole mind lay bare before you; the other was to break through with sheer brute force. Now, as much as she might have favored the subtle approach, this was one area in which subtlety was simply not within the realm of possibility for her. Aimi might have been able to pull it off, but not her.

"Why don't you tell me all about it in a less public location?" Rei asked. It was clumsy, but it was the best she could think of.

It worked. It sent his surface thoughts into far flung and convoluted fantasies, and she almost grimaced, but managed to restrain the reaction at the last moment.

She walked quickly towards the exit, and he followed. Then, once they reached a dark, out of the way alley, she turned. He was opening his arms to embrace her, and words were half-formed upon his lips, but she had no interest in hearing them. A few well-placed blows sent him tumbling into unconsciousness.

Rei looked right, looked left, and then dragged Raul's unconscious body away. She'd already prepared a place in the basement of a nearby building. Once he was securely bound, she sat down and waited for him to wake up.

His dreams were dirty.

Rei's eyebrow began to twitch.

A few hours later, Rei watched him stir and smiled.
Good. It was time to begin. He tested his bonds and then looked at her.

"Raul did not know you were into kinky bondage, little minx. What is safety word?"

Rei's eyebrow twitched again. She'd been examining his mind the whole time he had been unconscious with no luck. Even now, staring him in the eye, all she could sense within him was his desire to impress, seduce, and otherwise enjoy the presence of women. It was almost enough to make her think that the only reason he had joined his band of pirates was because he thought it was sexy.

No. That couldn't be it. Perhaps she just wasn't looking hard enough. "Here's how this is going to work, Raul," she said. "You're going to answer my questions, and each time you fail to answer, I will cause you pain. I've prepared a number of instruments to use in this interrogation. You can see them there on the table in front of you." She gestured towards the tool-covered table. "They cover the four basic methods of torture: cold, hot, sharp, and blunt." Still nothing. Damn. "Out of professional respect, I'm going to let you pick the first type I use."

Raul smirked. "Raul picks hot and blunt." The image that flashed in his mind when he spoke left no doubt of what he meant.

Rei lost her cool. Enough was enough. Glaring at the man, she picked a small hammer off the table. She then knelt down near Raul's feet and with a single precise strike, broke his big toe with a nasty crack.

"AAAAIEE!" he shouted. "You have hurt Raul!"

"Answer my questions," she snapped as she replaced the hammer on the table.

"But you haven't asked any yet!"

Rei blinked. "... Oh. Right." The irritation she had felt was slow in fading. "Perhaps I got a little carried away," she admitted. "Tell me about the Rusty Nail Rogues, Raul. Tell me everything, and perhaps the worst you will get from me is a broken toe."

Raul talked almost immediately. Actually, scratch the 'almost.' He talked, and he talked, and he talked. He spilled everything he could think of, and then kept on talking.

Rei stared at him. It hadn't been an act? He really WAS the way his surface thoughts showed him to be? ... Wait, the Rusty Nail Rogues were *IN THE TAVERN* where the two of them had met?

Utterly disgusted, Rei gagged Raul with an old sock and then headed back up to the tavern.

This was going to be a long night.

She could feel a headache coming on. The ease with which she joined the group after a few words spoken to their leader, Julian, only made it worse. She'd thought these were professionals, but they were nothing of the sort. But Maverick was a part of their group, and Maverick was her only lead on the location of Moses. So she'd help them. She'd help them plan their assault on Rodan. She'd put up with them. Putting up with them was harder than planning the assault on Rodan.

When Raul was brought up a few hours later speaking of a kinky bondage orgy which he had enjoyed in the basement, Rei's headache got still worse.

This was going to be a long night. An irritatingly, endlessly long night.
First Minds help her.

Featherface

"Mokuzai..."

A whisper of wind rustles the leaves in the surrounding wood, a hint of the stormy weather outside, but within this realm it is calm and warm. Mokuzai looks up and sees clouds rushing overhead like time-lapse photography. In front of him a tea kettle nestled in the coals of a dying fire begins to whistle. A face covered in feathers appears in the steam wafting through the air with a mocking expression and a breathy voice.

"Mokuzai..."

The old lore-singer grunts and waves the steam away with his hand before picking the kettle up and pouring himself a cup of tea. "Can't I drink my tea in peace," he says.

The steam reforms into the laughing face, "I'm afraid not, old man. You made your choice back in the Chantry. No peace for you."

Mokuzai pays no attention as the voice goes on, "You've seen the madness that is The-One-Who-Unravels-Mysteries. You've heard his ridiculous prophecies and his slanderous accusations. Do you intend to pay them heed old man?"

Eyes made of steam narrow as they examine the Prill before them. Mokuzai sips his tea, looking at a leaf blowing in the wind. The sky begins to darken and the face speaks again with a prickly tone.

"If you've any sense you'll quit this foolish game. The mana in you needs to be returned. Feed yourself to your Kyo-Tee-Shee, and have it done. There's your answer to the riddle of peace!"

The wind gives a great sigh and the light returns to normal, while the face of steam puffs out one cheek and then the other, bored.

"Seriously, you're going to be in here for a long time with me while your friends take you safely to Omexon. This will be dull if you don't at least participate in the conversation. Surely you have questions. Who was The-One-Who-Unravels-Mysteries, Featherface? Why did he set up this whole prophecy, Featherface? How did Elder Winter get this mask? Where did this staff come from? What's the cataclysm, Featherface? Why does the Wandering Star, wander? C'mon..."

The mountaintop is tranquil while Mokuzai sips noisily at his tea with a little smile turning up the corners of his mouth. The floating mask, the one called Featherface, or in the old-tongue, The-One-Who-Opens-Doors, waits impatiently...

Episode 20, Part I: Researchers

"Mikomi?"

I stare at him for what seems like an eternity. He looks so... different. So old. He's hunched over, and his hair is thin and white. His eyes look in different directions - the left one is clouded over with cataracts.

Finally, I find my voice. "... It's Rei now," I say.

He blinks, and looks at me closely, his caratact-covered eye rotating almost independently of his healthy one. "Rei? That doesn't make any sense."

I shrug. I'm not sure what to say. What to do. Strange children wander all around us, and every one of them looked a little bit like him. "So you're him? ... You're Inase Spark?"

"That's me," he says.

I swallow. I haven't felt nervous in a long time. Not since the day I first met Una, Kiyoshi, High Dive, and Moses. There's so much I want to say. So much I want to ask. What is a person supposed to do in a situation like this?

Kiyoshi would know. Moses would know. Una would know. Even Mokuzai would know.
Now, what would High Dive do?
...
The ensuing mental image makes me try to forget that I ever wondered that.

"I've been looking for you for a long time," I say.

He nods. "Oh yes. For at least fourteen..." he looks at me again, studying me, "Well, probably more like eighteen years."

I'm not sure how to respond to that. "I found your journal. It's what led me here. I have questions..." I hold up my portable computer, with his journal still plugged in.

His face lights up at that. "Aaah, I haven't seen one of these in ages!" He takes it from my hands, and I let him. He walks over to a terminal near the wall, and I follow him. His mind is utterly silent. I wonder whether I could push through his mental shielding if I wanted, but decide not to test it. He plugs the computer into the terminal and presses a few buttons.

A vast holographic display pops into existence for a moment, and I have the briefest glimpse of a fractal-filled screen. Then there is a loud pop, then two softer pops, and blue smoke flows out from the sides of my portable computer.

I stare. "... You... BROKE my computer?"

"Oh yeah," he said. "Now I remember why I haven't used one of these in years."

I snatch the machine back from him and clip it back against my belt. For the briefest moment, I consider killing him. Then a stab of guilt washes the thought away, and I look up, hoping he hadn't sensed that. I don't even know what kind of telepathic ability he has, but he has impressive shielding, at least.

I'm annoyed, and irritation looses the dam that had held back my questions. "Why did you come here? Why did you make me? What did you hope to accomplish with Project Scion? How long have you been here?"

"You talk a lot," he says.

My jaw snaps shut with an audible click, and I stare at him incredulously. I talk a lot?

"Well, come along. My kids have made us some dinner. It's time to eat."

I glance at one of the children, taking in his clubbed foot, then another who was putting a steel bowl filled with... something, on the table - Lysa. "What's wrong with them?" I ask.

Spark shrugs as he sits down at the table. "Flawed. Imperfect. My mistake."

The children gather around the table. I don't catch all of their names, but the boy with the club-foot is named Clubber, and there's a boy named Dany and a girl named Gina. Their minds are very simple. Very easy to assume as my own. I shake my head. Easy or not, I know that they are not me. Lysa serves up a dish made from some sort of plant matter mixed with rodent flesh. They offer it to me, and I decline, saying, "I can't digest meat."

"Huh. That's a new one," Spark says. "All my children were flawed in some way. I guess you got off pretty easy." He sends Dany off to bring their other guest, and I don't think much of it.

We talk, then, and he is not what I expected, not what I'd hoped he would be. I wanted someone with all the answers. I wanted him to explain Project Scion to me. What I found was a man who had given up.

Here he was, Inase Spark, the genius of Project Scion, my own creator, trying to engineer fertile children with enough genetic viability to produce a stable population, hoping that maybe they'll go unnoticed by the Cataclysm that's coming. Mikomi. He'd named me 'Mikomi.' Hope. But he'd lost it. I try to show him that he hasn't failed. I try to show him the Kata Kariana. It doesn't help. Seeing me shrouded in darkness, a vaguely me-like silhouette of darkest night... well, maybe it sent the wrong message. I want to tell him what he told me. I want to tell him how we are fighting for each other's sake. How we have to be willing to sacrifice ourselves by the hundreds - by the millions - for one another. That nothing will be left for him and his new family if all the world falls around them. Instead what I say is, "This isn't what I expected."

"What did you expect, dear sister?" Nero asks as Dany leads him into the room. My eyes widen.

Before I even know what I'm doing, I'm on my feet, and my psychic knife is burning a bright blue on my gauntlet. "What are you doing here?"

He slips in past my mental shielding as easily as if I were nothing more than a child. I feel a faint mental nudge, and my psychic knife flickers out. "Now, now, we wouldn't want to spoil this reunion with violence, would we?"

Spark nods. "You are both welcome here only so long as you behave yourselves. I won't have squabbling children at my table."

I stare at Spark, then at Nero, and then at last, reluctantly, sink back into my seat.

Nero sits down and helps himself to a bowl of glop, though he doesn't seem interesting in eating it. "What am I doing here?" He asks, addressing my question at last, "The same thing you're doing here, I expect: getting information."

I let that sink in for a moment, then my gaze travels down towards his arm. The arm Una destroyed. "How's the arm?" I ask belligerently.

He holds up a gloved hand, and gently pulls the glove off, revealing a solid silver hand beneath. "Much better."

I smile unkindly, and the image of his flesh being flayed from his bones replays itself in my memory. "Una has that effect on people," I say. And then, "What do you want, Nero?"

"What do you want, sister?" he shot back.

The question. The Question. It rings through my brain as if it were a tolling bell. "I..." I look up. "That's one of the Questions, isn't it? The Questions that define us? 'Who are you?' 'What do you want?'"

"You don't know the answers to either one, do you?"

"I want to stop this... this cataclysm," I say.

"And the other?" he asks.

"... at least I'm trying," I say.

He rolls his eyes. "I know why you came here. You came here in hopes of recapturing the childhood you never had, didn't you? You thought you could come in here and your daddy would make it all better. Pathetic."

Hatred. Hurt. I glare at him. "You don't know me," I snap.

"I've known you longer than you have, Rei. I knew you when you were nothing more than a quivering mass of telepathic tissue strapped to your bed back Home. Did you know that Aimi wanted to call you 'Nee-chan?' 'Dear older sister?'" He shook his head dismissively. "I thought 'nothing' was a much better name. And it is much better, don't you think? Even now, you don't really know who you are. I bet you have trouble telling the difference between yourself and Clubby over there in the corner."

Hatred. Hurt. Shame. I want him dead. I want him DEAD.

When I don't refute his assertion, Inase Spark looks visibly disappointed, and my sense of shame becomes intense.

"I know what you want, at least," I snap. "The same thing you've always wanted: power."

Nero nods. "That's true, I do want power. But that's only part of it."

"Why do all this? Why steal memories from me? Why attack Lord Tsuchinaga? Why try to steal the files from beneath his mansion?"

Nero looks to Spark. "Why don't you tell her the truth?" He directed his eyes back my way, and every time my gaze met his, new hatred rose up within me. "You should already know this. The pieces are already there. You know what the White-Rock summons. You know that we were made with the White-Rock."

I blink. "I know that Silex Niveus is a conduit that draws energy here from 'elsewhere,'" I say cautiously.

"Where do you think it draws that energy from, sister?" He smiles, and I hate him for it. "From the Enemy. We are half-Enemy."

Shock. Surprise. Disbelief. "You're a liar. Project Scion doesn't have to end in the same place as the DisLocator experiments. None of us has become Eyeless."

"No," he says, "The Eyeless and the Oni they summon are beautiful, but we can be so much more."

I stare at him. I feel a sense of horror rising up within my stomach. An awful, quivering sort of feeling. I see again Garandu-Oni. I see again Asamu-Oni. I remember the love I felt for each of them, even amidst the horror and the bloodshed.

The hour when death is like a light, and blood is like a rose;
You never loved your friends, my friends, as I have loved my foes.

"The Oni are... magnificent," I concede, "But I think the word you're looking for is 'horrific,' not 'beautiful.'"

He looks visibly disappointed. "Sister, sister, sister, you can't fight what you are. Who you are. You can either embrace it, or be miserable."

I look to Spark, and when he doesn't deny Nero's statement, my heart sinks. Why would someone like me be chosen by... Karia? I liked her pain. I reveled in it. I felt the whole of it and longed only for more.

No. No. I won't. It's not about what you feel. It's about what you choose. "Is that all you came here to do? To taunt me with this?"

Nero smiles a sunny smile. "No. I also wanted to see the look on your face when I did this."

That sinking feeling? It's quickly becoming my closest companion. And it's proved right when all sixteen people at the table rise to their feet and attack me.

The next few minutes are a flurry of hatred and violence. The Fire rises up all around me, but I dare not let it loose. Not here, where it might burn my creator to a cinder. I twist it sideways and pull out three threads, and three of me leap out across the room even as I retreat to a better fighting position. Two go down almost immediately as energy pistols are fired into them. They break apart like smoke, and are gone.

"Why would someone want to create clones that are Half-Enemy? Why would someone DO THAT?" the surviving simulacra shouts into Nero's face.

He twists to the side to avoid its attack, and it bursts into smoke against the overturned table.

I know when I am over-matched. If I stay here, I will die.
I can't afford to die. Not when living might allow me to stop Nero. Somehow.

I swallow my pride. I run.
As I flee, I hear Nero's voice behind me saying, "Damnit. ... Kill each other."

The sound of knives hacking into flesh fills the corridor. I turn around in horror just in time to see Inase Spark take a blast of energy to the face. Light pours out of his eyes, and he falls, dead.

...

The next thing I remember, a voice calls out to me. His voice. Spark's voice. I am injured, though I don't remember being injured. A knife wound, and several nasty burns. I grimace.
I look to the source of the voice.

"Identify yourself," he says. His image is young, and translucent, and alive.

I stare.

A hum begins to build. "Subject 'Rei' not recognized," he says, and I realize with a start that I must have given my name.

"... I was named Mikomi," I say.

The hum ceases. "Mikomi recognized."

"Who are you?" I ask. I feel distant. Faint. I...

"I am Inase Spark," he replies.

I stare. "... I just saw you die," I say.

He looks uncomfortable. "I'm sorry to hear that. I am here to help you if I can."

"... How can you help me?"

"What do you want to do?" he asks.

"Find my friends. Una. High-Dive. Mokuzai. Moses." I think about it for a moment, "Maybe Kiyoshi, too."

I do have access to the mainframe."

"The Mainframe?" I ask.

"The ship's mainframe. If you can provide sufficient power, I can activate the sensors if that is your wish."

I spend the next several minutes dragging generators over to the terminal and plugging them in. When I am done, the holograph asks, "What shall I scan for?"

I think for a moment. I remember distantly how the KyoTeeshee said that the Enemy will follow us wherever we go. It helps to think about something other than Inase Spark. "Scan for the Enemy," I say.

"Within what range?"

"Planetary, including orbit," I say.

A three dimensional representation of the planet Karia snaps into being above the projector. Red dots begin appearing scattered across the it. Most of them are within Geneva Prime, but there are some scattered here and there, a large group in the woods outside of the Grand Chantry, and a few in the other cities.

... There is something in orbit. Something filled with so many of the Enemy that the scanners could not identify the individual signals.

A thought strikes me, then. I zoom in the display on the wreck of the Bosphorus.
Two Enemy signals radiate there.

I zoom it in on my specific location.
Enemy.
I am the Enemy.

All the horror stories I ever heard are true, and they're about ME?
I stare at the screen for a long moment.

"Energy reserves are running low," Spark reports. "Do you wish anything else?"

"... Scan for unique energy sources that correspond to my... non-enemy energy source?"

"Processing."

It is 45 seconds later that concentrations of unique energy sources begin to appear on the globe. Much is concentrated around the Grand Chantry. Absurd amounts lie on the western continent. Lines of it flow across the globe in a strange, regular pattern, like a spiderweb across the whole world.

"Filtering..." Spark reports.

The other sources fade, and I see where my companions are.
One in the jungles southwest of Matamos.
One off the coast from Omexon.
Two in the ocean north of Geneva Prime, moving west.

I ask the computer to extrapolate a possible destination for the two on the ocean, and it reports that the likely targets are Marina or Omexon.

... Omexon.
Looks like I know where I have to go.

Even as the computer powers down behind me, I leave the ruined ship, my heart sunken down into my shoes.

Inase Spark is dead.
I am the Enemy we fight.

Two thoughts prevent me from sinking into despair:
The first is the thought of seeing my friends again.
The second is the knowledge that I can't let Nero get away with what he's done. What he chooses to be.

... I swear by all the First Minds, I will kill Nero for what he's done.

Heroes Born and Heroes Made

Matthew had work to do. He had wanted to stay on with the Griolsa and help them finish rebuilding, but Tricks had been eager to get back to the city and he had not liked his chances of getting all the way back to Geneva Prime without the help of a Karian, even one as domesticated as Tricks. So they had left the Gogajin village, though not before the children had tackled him in one last attempt to knock down the "metal giant" and begged him to stay. It was difficult telling them no, mostly because they tried to forcibly keep him from leaving. Surprisingly, the children were not the only ones who seemed sad to see them go. Edana bid them good journey and even Angus hobbled out and shook his hand.

The two made good time and Tricks proved a surprisingly adept guide. His color had changed to a much healthier brown than his old tobacco-stain drab and he seemed more alert and friendly than Matthew had ever known him. He even talked of going to visit his old tribe for a time once they got back! Unfortunately it did not take him long to forget about that and fall back into his old habits almost as soon as they reached Geneva Prime once more. Within a week of their return Tricks, eyes blurred and face slack as he used to be, wandered off mumbling about knowing how to earn more money. That was the last Matthew had seen of him.

Now he was all alone, but that was alright. He had plenty of work to do after all. People had always thought of him as stupid because of his size and the way he liked to think things through. He was not dumb however, just careful. He intended to revive the Black Lotus, but not as it was before. There would be fighting, sure, but it would not be for the entertainment of criminals. Instead it would be a training ground, a crucible he would use to forge a new UMA. No, not UMA. UCA. A movement for all Cheldrun who wanted to live their lives as equals without all of this caste bullshit.

He knew many Mechafied were still pissed about how the last revolt ended and could probably be galvanized if they were told that Moses was not dead, but out in the world at large spreading the message. Matthew felt a little bad about that planned deception, but in a way it was true: Moses and his friends, by simply being who they were, spread the message of freedom and pride in self wherever they went. Then he had heard that the Allskin families were restless, especially the oldest and most traditional ones. Apparently one of the most pious and upstanding Clans had turned against Goshi and been banished as traitors, but were still standing strong in a new city and were even beating the unbeatable Washisan pilots. The whispers among the Allskins were that if that Clan had turned against Goshi perhaps it was the will of the First Minds, and even if it was not the simple fact that they had not been crushed said that maybe it was time for them all to break out from under the Biomade corporation.

The Biomade now, they would be a problem. He could hardly expect Biomade to join him to throw off the yoke of Biomade oppression. He had a couple of tricks up his sleeve though. He had taken samples of a couple of Dr. Watanabe's drugs during their journey together. He could not do anything with them himself, but he had recognized their value. One would toughen a mind, help defend it against telepathic attack. The other dulled the mind and would temporarily dampen or even nullify a Biomade's psychic abilities within moments of injection. Yes, if it came down to fighting he had a few tricks to play. That was why he had always won in the arena; every opponent he had faced had seen his size and simply assumed he was nothing but a dumb straightforward brute. They were always that much more surprised then when he pulled a trick they had never seen coming.

Still, he would rather have as many allies as possible, and as little bloodshed. He wanted a united people after all so that he could hand them over to the right person when the time came. That would be a trick to top them all, and one that he knew he could be proud of for the rest of his days because he knew it would be good for all of his people. King Moses, hero of the Cheldrun. He liked the sound of that.

* * *

The lord fidgeted as he sat, his long-extinguished pipe gripped forgotten between his teeth. He was a consummate warrior, a leader and a fighter, but for this battle he was helpless. He had tried to remain to at least lend moral support, but had been firmly told that it was not his place and pushed out of the room. He, Lord Daitokuji Ichiro, pushed out of his own bedroom, and by his little sister at that! His wife was in labor with their first child. Modern medicine was a wonder, but women did still sometimes not survive the strain of childbirth and his Akane was a slight and delicate woman. And so he sat and worried in his sitting room in Matamos, two of his most loyal retainers quietly sipping tea and smoking their pipes and waiting with him for news.

Finally it came. Naomi came out to him, beaming with joy and excitement. Ichiro leapt to his feet and practically shouted, "Are they...?!"

"They are both well and sleeping soundly, brother. Your wife and your newborn son." Her grin seemed to take up her whole face. "What is his name?"

Laughing, he took Naomi in his arms and whirled her about. "Why what else could it be? My son's name will be Noboru and he will be as strong and wise as his grandfather!"

"A fine choice," intoned Master Yoshitaka. "Surely Lord Daitokuji's spirit will watch closely over the child named in his honor."

"There is more!" Naomi said with the air of one who had been saving a surprise for last. "Young Noboru; it is hard to tell with one just born, but I believe he will have pure silver hair!"

"Most auspicious!" This from Ichiro's boyhood friend and advisor, Shin.

Ichiro nodded, though his face clouded for a moment. "Hopefully it will not see him as troubled as his uncle."

Naomi rested a hand on her brother's arm and said "I am sure that Kiyoshi is fine, wherever he is. Do you not remember him as a child? He was always the smartest of us, the one to plan the mischief. If anyone can slip away from Goshi, he can!"

Master Yoshitaka nodded. "He was the finest student I ever had. I hope to one day see his training completed. For now know that he has his destiny, and you have yours. And, I would imagine, so does your new son for the First Minds to mark him so."

Ichiro dismissed his thoughts of his wayward brother with his peculiar ideas. His beaming grin returned fivefold as he said to his closest friends "Come. It is high time I meet my son." With that the patriarch of the Silver Phoenix Clan started for his bedroom and his sleeping family.

Episode 19: Separated

There was no choice involved really. It was a matter of duty. My companions had fallen in battle and been captured, perhaps killed. It was my duty to find them, to rescue them if they needed it and avenge them if necessary. The Prill argued that we should not place ourselves in danger, that the world needs us. I could not stay however, not and remain who I am. Besides, they were more than simply my companions in arms. It was my friends who were missing. Yes, even Rei in a strange way.

The soldiers were obviously Hei Shi so the logical place to look was Geneva Prime. After a few days of rest Mokuzai, Highdive, and I headed north into the jungle. Elder Moon obviously did not want her mate to leave again; I left them alone to make their goodbyes in peace. It was a long journey, more than a month. I took the time to converse with Mokuzai as much as possible, to discuss with him what had been going on and what to do after we had reunited with the others. That old man is a store of vast wisdom, surprising insight, and a very wry, biting sense of irony. Highdive... well, we tolerated her as best we could. Thankfully she thought we were boring and went off on her own much of the time.

At one point we came across a Zipsum messenger. He had news of impending war, earthquakes, pirates, and other dark occurrences. One thing stood out to me: Washisan Academy had lost a duel, the first one in generations. I was proud and yet unsurprised to find out who had handed them this defeat. I quietly noted that my Clan had apparently moved to Matamos. Perhaps I would even get to see them again some day. Still, none of this affected our current mission so I thanked the messenger and we continued on our way.

It proved no difficulty to sneak into Geneva Prime. And no reason it should; nothing short of an army or a monster the size of Garandu Oni was going to be able to cause trouble to the massive numbers of Goshi troops patrolling the streets. Highdive said she would make contact with her brother and infiltrate the Goshi Tower to see if she could find anything out. I was pleased and surprised by this seemingly intelligent plan until I thought about what her form of reconnaissance would entail. Maybe I would get lucky and she would manage to bring the whole Tower tumbling down like she did with Inari's Grandmother.

For myself I decided to try to get in contact with an old contact I had in Goshi. There were a few men of honor left in the company, a few who believed in something more than just making more hours, and I know most of them. I had a message delivered to him asking him to meet me in a tea house I know. I did not say who I was in the message of course, except that I was an old friend and colleague.

Leaving Mokuzai in a flophouse in a slummy Mechified district I made my way to the tea house. I had used some berries that Highdive found to color my hair purple and used some soot to darken my face and eyebrows. It was a flimsy disguise but the best I could think of at the time; I have not exactly had much cause to learn how to disguise myself in the past after all.

The tea house was relatively empty and I spotted my contact right away, sitting at a table in the back. I made my way to him and sat down. He was surprised at first, not knowing who I was, but I did not give him time to hedge. I immediately laid out what I wanted from him, information on the Goshi raid on the Grand Chantry, specifically on where the prisoners that were taken were being held. He was so flustered that he let slip that he had been transferred out of Security and so did not have direct access to that information. All he knew were the rumors, that the raid had gone horribly both during and after. Then he finally recognized me and went pale. "Go!" he said. "Go now! I didn't know it was you! There's a bounty of 28 years on your head! Goshi won't stop in trying to get you!"

I should have known. Suddenly the other 'patrons' doffed their kimonos and baggy workman's clothes to reveal Hei Shi armor. Six of them and I was all alone with the exit on the other side. I summoned Keibatsu and rushed toward the nearest two as they were drawing guns, dispatching them before they could fire. Another one grabbed me from behind and a third kicked me in the gut and I knew that I was in trouble. I could not fail here; too much was at stake. My friends needed me. I felt something well up inside of me, a righteous fury laced with what I had come to recognize as the Kyo Tee Shee's precious 'mana' and I unleashed it upon my assailants. There was... very little of them left that was recognizable. They had known. I was relieved it had not been Aimi who had come to capture me again. Relieved and, I was slightly disturbed to find, also a bit disappointed. Quickly I fled the tea house to reunite with Mokuzai and Highdive.

Highdive had been more successful than I had. I decided it was best not to ask details about how she had acquired the information, but it turned out that a Goshi facility had been leveled just after the raid, somewhere in the vicinity of Omexon. If I knew my friends, that had to be at least one of them. The quickest and safest way to get there would be via ship, but with a bounty of 28 years on my head (and maybe more after my encounter in the tea house) I did not wish to risk our safety to my flimsy skills of obfuscation again. I determined that the best way to go about things would be to stow away. A small bribe was all it took to get access to the port registry and a likely candidate presented itself. A colorfully named black rock freighter was bound for Omexon within the next couple of days and I meant us to be on it.

I put together a small amount of supplies and another bribe saw us within the warehouse that stored the cargo containers that were to be loaded on our chosen freighter. It was quick work to load ourselves in one of the containers, digging out a small, uncomfortable nest in the black rock. Unfortunately I was going to be there for a good long while.

I lost track of time. The journey was to take about a month; weeks at least passed by. Mokuzai spent most of his time inside the strange world that he reaches through his staff, only coming out to eat a drink once in a while. I spent my time in a state of deep meditation, almost hibernation, slowing my pulse and breathing down until I was barely alive, conserving energy. Highdive... well thankfully she managed not to be seen during her many excursions out onto the freighter. I am still surprised that I did not awaken to find that she had eaten all of our supplies in a matter of days. If not for the fact that she despises Cheldrun food she probably would have.

I was eventually broken out of my reverie by an attack of some sort. There were loud crashes and the sounds of gunfire from outside; definitely a battle. Peeking out into the outside world for the first time since my journey began, I thanked the First Minds that it was night. Even the moon and stars and the ship's lights seemed too bright after so long spent in darkness. Ragged looking Cheldrun were attacking the freighter, and a giant sea serpent of some sort seemed to be helping them! In the distance I thought I heard the faint sound of Prill song, which I would have discounted as imagination if not for the leviathan before me. Quickly reaching the decision that whatever was going on it was not my affair, I lowered a lifeboat and Highdive and I made quick our escape. (Mokuzai was still in his staff which I had tucked firmly in my sash.)

Hoping against hope that the sea monster would not decide to attack the little motorboat I piloted us toward shore. There was definitely the sound of a Prill singing on the attacking boat and some great shining Mechified standing at the prow. Ignoring all of this I made for the beach, thinking that we must be close enough that it would be easy enough to make the rest of the journey on foot. Suddenly the boat lurched and then a woman appeared beside me. Not just any woman though: Una! I gawked and Highdive fell off with a little splash.

Before she could speak I gasped "Una?"

She looked at me quizzically. "Do I know you..."

"Kiyoshi," I rasped. My voice had gone some time without use and despite my best efforts I had inhaled a great deal of black rock dust over the course of the voyage.

Una's eyes turned suspicious and then widened in wonder. "Kiyoshi!" she cried and sprang forward to hug me. Just at that moment the serpent caused a huge wave that capsized us. Quickly I grabbed hold of the boat and saw that Una had done the same. We both came up spluttering and shivering, and then the strangest sight of all appeared. The shining Mechified was Moses, and he seemed to be partly swimming and partly gliding atop the water with the help of a small outboard motor attached to his back.

"Moses?!" Una and I cried out almost simultaneously. I glanced about for a moment fully expecting Rei to come out of nowhere, perhaps riding the sea serpent. I looked back to see Moses notice us and a look of startlement that must mirror my own appear on his face. For a moment our eyes met, staring in amazement. Then, his momentum halted, he sank beneath the waves.

Don't I Know You?

He was staring again. He didn't mean to, but he was. He couldn't help it. The girl had the most striking red eyes, and they made him think of... something. Something on the tip of his tongue. Of course, he didn't have a tip of his tongue. Not anymore. Not since she'd done him the courtesy of removing it for him. Not the red-eyed girl. Someone else. Someone ... He didn't like to think about that. It was unproductive, it was, and there was nothing worse than being unproductive.

After all, he loved Goshi.

His name was Old One-Eye. Well, that wasn't really his name. It was the name they had given him after she...

*FLASH*

Glint of metal descending. Sharp, sharp, sharp pain. A woman's cool, professional, detached voice. The feeling of something sharp digging around IN HIS EYE. Wet. Blood. Goop. Eye-goop. Hello, eye-goop. Aren't you supposed to be in an eyeball?

*FLASH*

Well, never mind how he got his name. He smiled a faint, grimy-toothed smile as she looked at him. She was hard to spot, she was, moved like a big cat. Like a Jevuum, maybe, except without the ears or fangs. Red eyes. White hair. Pale skin. What did that remind him of?

Well, no matter. Off she went, scaling the wall of That Building. That Building. The place where They kept their things. The Biomade Oversight Council, yes, that was They. He didn't say anything as she climbed up it as easily as walking down a quiet avenue. Nobody else noticed, but it was hard to get anything past Old One-Eye. It had been even harder, once, back before She'd taken his other one. Back when he'd been a special operative for the Biomade Oversight Committee.

That took him back it did. The kinds of thoughts that brought with it were downright painful. She'd taught him not to think them, with her knives and instruments and her red-hot psychic pokers and her drugs.

He missed the drugs.

Still, he soldiered on despite the pain. He thought back to his... his investigation into Typhon's death. He knew they'd kill him for what he knew, one day, but he didn't care. He welcomed it. It made him feel good, knowing that somewhere out there, an assassin was waiting for him. That someday, he would turn a corner and walk into the open arms of death.

Maybe it was her. The red-eyed girl.
Now what did that remind him of?

... Oh yeah. Typhon.
"Did you know that Katashi Blade ordered Typhon's death?" he asked the dark alleyway.
Neither the alleyway he called home, nor the stray dog, nor the bits of trash that lined the sides of the alleyway gave him any answer.

He cackled. "True, sir, true."

The dog disagreed.

"Now, now, no need to get all angry about it," he said, glaring at the barking canine. "It was a long time ago. Nobody cares about that anymore. Except me. Me. Me. me. me. Hehehehehehehe."

There she was again, scaling the walls the other way, leaving the compound. He wondered why she would go back in there. He'd seen her come out of there once before, but she'd been pretty badly injured then, and she'd not come back out carrying anything.

She dropped into the alleyway, glanced about, and set about walking towards the street.

"Spare a minute for a miserable old man, dear?" he asked as civilized-like as he could manage. The pain in his head was a piercing thing now, and he could feel a faint hysterical giggle rising up in his throat.

The girl's eyes narrowed, and as she turned to face him, Old One-Eye felt sure than this was the one who had been fortold. The one who was here to take him up into her gentle embrace and guide him to the death that Goshi had so kindly promised him after ... after... She had been...

Red eyes.
Now what did that remind him of?

Now the red eyes were full of sadness, and he felt a faint tingling. The kind of tingling you feel when someone's poking around in your head. Well, not that most people felt it. He did. Now. Kind of tickled. Kind of giggled. Kind of wiggled. Wiggled. Miggled. Miggled? That wasn't a word. He wiped the smile off his face and tried to look sober.

It wasn't hard. Drink gave him nightmares lately, it seemed.

"I'm sorry, old man," she said. Those words sounded strange when she said them. As if she was mimicking the sounds without knowing the meaning.

His awareness snapped back into the here and now, and he looked at her. Looked at her closely. She seemed... familiar, somehow. Had they met before? "... Hey, don't I know you?" he asked.

She nodded. "We met. Once. When I brought you in."

Red eyes watching impassively. Glint of metal moving towards his eye. Pain.
Red eyes watching impassively. Eye-goo. Teenaged girl with red eyes sticking her finger in the remains of his eye and then licking it.

Red eyes.

"YOU!" he hissed. "You... you shouldn't have done that. Wasn't proper. Wasn't nice. Leave a man's ruptured eyeball to his own devices, you should! ... What did it taste like?"

"Blood," she said, her voice low. "Blood and extinguished sight. Your agony. Your terror. It was..." She shuddered. "You know that I can't leave any witnesses here, don't you old man?"

He nodded happily. "So it is you after all. I hoped it was. You kept me waiting an awful long time, you did. Your Mama Pain promised that someone would be along a lot sooner than this."

She looked at him pityingly. He didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit. Still, if pity was the price he had to pay for the death he'd dreaded/longed for, then that was OK with him. Yes indeed.

...

"I can't..." she said, and he didn't think anything of it, but stood there, waiting.
Waiting.

Waiting...
...

...

He opened his eye. She was gone.

"HEY! GET BACK HERE!" he bellowed. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO..." he trailed off.

What had he been thinking about?
Oh yeah, the girl with red eyes. He'd seen her out and about, he had. His memory wasn't as good as it used to be, before She'd done Her work, but he hadn't forgotten the red eyes.

...
Now what did that remind him of?

Yarr!

A delicate tendril of smoke wafts artistically out of the barrel of a gold-plated pistol before being blown away by a pair of plump red lips with a stylish mustache.

"They call me 'Bullet-in-the-Eye' Julian and if any of you so much as breathes a word to the authorities, you'll find out why. But if you are interested in glory, gold, and girls then come have a seat at my table and I'll see if you have what it takes to be one of my crew."

Raucous cheering ensued as all the patrons of the dockside teahouse, the Fallen Lily, drained their sake and danced about drunkenly. No one pointed out the absurdity of the situation, indeed they reveled in it. Julian and his crew were a sorry lot of castaways skipping over the waves in a stolen shrimp trawler called 'the Rusty Nail' in no position to threaten anyone, much less offer glory or gold (an absurd metaphor in anycase, since anyone worth their salt would want to be paid in hours and minutes). Julian was known in these parts, but not by his dangerous sounding nickname. He and his followers were called the Rusty Nail Rogues and they were the butt of many jokes in the villages around Omexon. But no one felt like ruining such a wonderful night by throwing his insignificance back in his face.

Trencher, the Mechified who followed Julian around, with a scoop for a left arm, had a lusty voice it turns out, and he lead the crowd in a variety of bawdy songs. Raul, a scoundrel, swore he'd done everything the lyrics described with daughters of honorable Allskin families from Matamos and Zamar. Meanwhile Julian's girl, Tara, danced from tabletop to tabletop kicking over carafes of Sake and nearly setting the place on fire, but it only made people hoot and cheer all the more.

Beneath all the laughter and drinking there was in fact something of substance occurring. Several things.

Firstly, people forgot about the impending war for a while. Honest people. Frightened people. People whose lives depended on the sea trade they knew the Geneva Prime Navy would disrupt if it came to war. Instead of thinking about enemy soldiers teleporting into their homes, they sang and they danced and they were happy, for a while.

Second, some real alliances were made. Not the kind that determine the political landscape. These kinds of alliances rarely make it into the history books. They are written with warm memories, firm handshakes and sexually transmitted diseases. The Rusty Nail Rogues may have been fools, but they were quickly becoming popular fools. At least in the ports of the Northwest.

Third, one person was actually listening. She was no one of account. Just a slight Biomade girl with startling red eyes. She laughed and drank along with everyone else, but she paid attention more closely. She heard descriptions of the whole crew, including the fox-girl who could conjure a sea-snake and the one known as Maverick. When Julian began going on about how he was going to capture Rodan once the Omexon Navy was done building it for him, the corners of her mouth turned up in an attractive little smile. After a month of searching, she was pretty sure she'd found what she came for.

Everyone else in that teahouse was just happy to get drunk enough to forget, though no one was liable to forget the time when Julian shot a cork off a reclining woman's nipple. He'd been given a sake shower for that one and the woman swore her nipples had never been harder and offered to join his crew right then and there, but Tara told her to put some clothes and go home or she would lose the only two things she had going for her. Later the sake ran out and Julian left without paying (though Trencher went up and settled accounts afterward), and the fun kind of went out of the room, so the crowd stumbled home to their beds.

As they walked down the darkened streets they invented new verses to a local folk-song and renamed it for the Rusty Nail Rogues:

They swear like your mother and drink like the drowned,
the Rusty Nail Rogues!
They howl like wolves, but they bite like a clown,
the Rusty Nail Rogues!
You can't get them out of your bar late at night,
the Rusty Nail Rogues!
And if you should try they will give you a fight,
the Rusty Nail Rogues!

Chasing the Flight

The Vorax had grown rarer than Jin-Kalys imagined. Months of searching and hunting had yielded nothing, and yet his calculations could not be controverted. Varissa, the lean, feminine, terrifying Jevumm at his side was the one who would find them and so he stuck with her, despite her continual threats whenever boredom seemed about to overcome her hunger for Vorax flesh. She climbed in and out of Vorax nests, her nose full of their scent, driving her mad with hunger. She rushed from place to place across the continent of Karia, always certain that the next corner would reveal her prey, but they continually eluded her.

At night, when Jin-Kalys was slow, and his mind was more on a level with hers, he would share pieces of his knowledge. He explained nine-branch formal logic, and the catastrophic intersection of the branches at the apogee, an inexorable, and therefore predictable nexus. When in a good mood she seemed to regard his philosophy as a form of poetry. When in a bad mood it merely baited her appetite for cruelty. Jin-Kalys had several new fine white scars in his scaly neck.

During the days she wanted to sleep and thus he had plenty of time to continue his work. It was both alarming and reassuring that the signs continued to point toward global upheaval. Alarming because he was completely unequipped for the work which seemed to be left to him, being the only one adequately trained in reading solar equations according to the Asterakalys Helio-Synthesis model. Reassuring because it meant he was right, and when if he returned to Sighing Web of Trees he would be able to conclusively demonstrate it to the dismay of those presently adhering to the fashionable Celestial-Objectivity model.

Though he wasn't foolish enough to say so he did find the conflict between his rational-diurnal schedule and her predatory nocturnal schedule extremely aggravating. It meant that they could only make progress in the mornings and evenings. At day he worked. At night she hunted.

That is, until the morning that they saw the Flight. From the top of a Pericasymore tree he ought to have seen them first, but all credit to her hunter's instincts, he had to have them pointed out to him by his feline companion. She heard their song on the breeze and when he was able to bring his eyes into focus on the horizon his breath caught. A flight of Vorax! Dozens of them, maybe as many as 50 or 60 Vorax flying together and dancing on the wind.

Varissa was celebrating the nearness of her prey, but Jin-Kalys could only sputter. Something's wrong. This does not correspond to Monikostara's Law of Preservation. Surely this sudden and unforseen change of behaviors means that a revised estimate of the rate of apogee's approach is imperative. I could be off by months!

From that moment the odd couple had not rested normally, but had forced themselves to chase after the Flight as fast as Jin-Kalys' short legs could carry him. The first time they nearly caught up to the Flight what they saw caused even Varissa to hesitate in dismay. They were flying over an abandoned nest, performing the funereal dance. In the patterns in the sky Jin-Kalys saw the gravity of his miscalculation. An aberrant force had impinged on the perfect sequence of logical effects. The choices of the Vorax were no longer corresponding to the necessary impulse for perpetuation. They mean to commit suicide!

There was no way they could keep pace with creatures that fly hundreds of kilometers a day, but Jin-Kalys knew that they would not have to. Even unpredictable behavior follows patterns, thought they are unseen. By the nine-branches he could discern their route. With a map...

He marked the locations of all 20 major Vorax nests and by plot-centric prioritization assigned an order to them. It was a sequence - an illogical one, to be sure, but consistent with an intent for self-destruction driven by a troublesome unknown quantity, but in such a way that it still resolved with all Nine-Branches. It was the only possible outcome.

Speaking hastily to Varissa, he pointed to a spot on the map - a cliff overlooking the ocean on the far northwestern shore of the continent. It was deep in Cheldrun territory, something which made Varissa profoundly uneasy, but it was their only chance to catch the flight. It would be a race. If they were too late, the Vorax would already have acted, in a rather permanent fashion. Everything depended now on Varissa's speed and stealth, to get them safely to that far away shore.