The Shape of Things to Come (part 4 of 12)

a El Hazard fanfiction by Dooky-chan

Back to Part 3
El-Hazard is the property of Pioneer/AIC. This fanfic and all original
characters are property of dooky. The Heretic Prophecy appears courtesy
of Melt-Banana (if you don't get it, you soon will...)

EL-HAZARD: THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME

The Shape of Things So Far-

Mr Fujisawa has a new pupil- the son of the prominent Opaque doctor
Amiri. The seminary council has approved Afura's proposal to retrieve the
Heretic Prophecy. Meanwhile, Ifurita seems strangely affected by
Qawoor, and Makoto starts having bizarre premonitions. Mari, having
been mistaken for Death, meets Makoto and Nanami and discovers she
has the ability to heal injuries. Just as Makoto predicted, a Phantom Tribe
assassin shoots Princess Rune, badly injuring her, although Mari manages
to save her life. In a remote area of Bugrom territory, the priestesses find
the lost prophecy but also a very large number of Bugrom. Returning from
Arliman, Fatora is relieved to find her sister alive, but discovers the 
ordeal
has left Rune unable to bear children. The responsibility of giving birth to
the next royal generation now falls to Fatora...

THE THIRD MONTH: "ROYAL OPERATIONS"

Day 60

"And roughly how many Bugrom did you see?"
Afura moved nervously from foot to foot. The atmosphere of this royal
consultation was unusual to say the least. Having narrowly survived the
attempt on her life, Princess Rune was still bedridden, so all three
priestesses now stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, while the princess,
her head propped up with pillows, questioned them on their mission.
"A few thousand", Afura finally answered. "Bear in mind that this was a
remote area. Their numbers are probably much greater at their base of
operations."
"They must have reproduced," Qawoor added. "As unlikely as it seems,
it's the only explanation. That many Bugrom couldn't have escaped the
Eye of God."
"If they've reproduced... that means Queen Diva survived the Eye of God
too," the princess reasoned. "Although I had no idea they could breed so
quickly..."
"We still have the Eye of God as an option," Shayla said speculatively.
"Makoto assures us it's safe to use now."
"No," Rune said decisively. "Not yet, most certainly not. Such a terrible
weapon should only be used as a last resort. The Bugrom have not
attacked us. If we were to make an unprovoked attack, we would be no
better than they."
The priestesses nodded in unison. Rune was right, of course. A weapon
with such awesome destructive power was morally suspect under any
light. To use it against another power simply because they had the
potential to attack Roshtaria would be completely unacceptable. But there 
was
another issue, of course. The first time the Eye of God was used was a 
complete
disaster. The second time came very near to turning into a disaster of equal
proportions. Faced with that history, anybody would be apprehensive.
The door opened, and Londs discreetly entered.
"Your holinesses," he began. "Forgive the intrusion, but Mr Mizuhara
would like to see you as soon as you are finished with your business here."
The priestesses exchanged glances. If Makoto wanted to see them, that
meant only one thing. The prophecy.

The enormous piles of books on the desk almost obscured Fatora, as she
quietly flicked through an ancient-looking volume. It wasn't uncommon
for her to be seen in the library, but this section of it was relatively new 
to
her. Generally, Fatora came to the palace library for one reason only. But
today, she wasn't perusing the erotic fiction, nor was she scouring the
anatomy books for rude pictures.
No, she was examining some of those works collectively referred to as
'The Classics'. The truly great works which lots of people claimed to have
read- but which, in reality, were familiar only to a smug few. These people
were easily identifiable by their tendency to initiate discussions about how
Author A compared to Author B, in their perpetual quest to remind all
non-literary types how incredibly stupid they were.
Yeah, those Classics.
The thing was, Fatora had decided, if these works were really as insightful
as people claimed, perhaps they contained answers.
Answers pertaining to the dilemma that was facing now, that of her duty
versus her life.
In the past, there was really no competition. Life always won, primarily
because the 'duties' she was called upon to perform were never really that
important. She had eventually learned that it was possible to get out of all
but the most pressing of engagements with a precise mixture of shouting,
threats, and, where necessary, physical violence.
But here was a duty she couldn't get out of so easily. Passing on the gene
for control of the Eye of God was of absolutely paramount importance to
the Roshtarian monarchy, arguably the very reason for its being. Only two
people in El-Hazard carried that gene, and one of them was now
physically incapable of passing it on.
Yesterday, the press had finally got hold of it. People were starting to ask
questions. Something had to be done, and soon.
Fatora heard footsteps, and a little voice from the other end of the room.
"Fatora? You've been in here a while. Are you okay?" Alielle asked
timidly.
The princess picked up one of the books in front of her and read aloud
from it.
"Those who find joy are fated to lose it, for there is no true happiness
throughout this frosty world."
Alielle looked blankly back, unsure of how to respond. Over the past two
weeks Fatora's behaviour had become increasingly erratic. Alielle didn't
like this... she didn't like it at all.
"Those are the words of the great poet, Yasuko. Very true, wouldn't you
say?" Fatora looked at Alielle with a surprisingly bright expression.
"Well... I don't know very much about poetry," Alielle replied.
"Neither did I," Fatora continued enthusiastically. "Did you know I was
named after her? My second middle name. Oh, I always knew there was a
poet called Yasuko, but it wasn't until today that I decided to investigate
her work. What about you? Where does your name come from?"
"It's ancient Dorusian," Alielle replied, deciding to indulge Fatora in this
rather odd line of conversation. "It means 'small wonder', I think."
Fatora smiled. "How appropriate. There's more to names than you'd
imagine, don't you find that?"
Alielle joined Fatora behind the desk, and noticed a picture of a man, a
woman and a baby amongst the books.
"Who's that?"
"My parents, not long after Rune was born," Fatora said. She picked up
the picture, and they both examined it for a while.
"She looks a lot like Rune," Alielle smiled. "Your mother, I mean."
"They say she was quite a remarkable woman," Fatora recalled. "Of
course, I have to take their word for it. I never knew her."
Fatora found her gaze drifting back to her father. He looked different here,
not the man she remembered. There was a fire in his eyes, a lust for life
that had been completely absent during Fatora's childhood.
"You... know we have to figure out what to do, sweetness," Alielle said
hesitantly.
Fatora looked to Alielle, her eyes full of fear. "I don't think I can do it,
Alielle."
"Oh, Fatora." Alielle put her arm protectively around her beloved. "I
know it's horrible, but I also know that you're brave and strong. You can
do it, Fatora."
"No, I don't mean that," Fatora sighed in response. "Pregnancy will be
painful and getting pregnant will be... just..." She shuddered, an action
which served to replace the adjective she couldn't decide on. "But... I can
do that, I suppose. The thing is... I couldn't bring up children. I'd be a
terrible mother, I know I would." Her voice began to waver. Clearly, this
had been bothering her a great deal.
"It's not that difficult," Alielle reassured. "It comes naturally. My own
mother brought up fifteen children."
"That's different," Fatora insisted. "Your mother's a good parent. She's
caring and patient. I'm neither of those things. There are certain people in
this world who should NEVER be parents, and I'm one of them. No child
deserves to have me as a mother."
Fatora started to cry softly into Alielle's shoulder. Through the corner of
her eye, she could still see the picture of her father, wearing that
uncharacteristic smile.
The flat, monochrome image of a man who'd been dead for fourteen
years, and yet it was as if he was really there, smiling up at her.
Smiling.
At her.
Fatora shut her eyes as tightly as she could, trying to expel the image from
her head.
You bastard, she thought to herself.


"Come on, kitty! Catch the ball!"
Ura looked quizzically at Ifurita, who was kneeling contentedly on the
floor, clutching a small cat toy. Nearby, Makoto was half-watching the
scene as he set about tidying his desk.
She was an interesting character, Ifurita. That is, if she could be regarded
as a single character. Her personality varied between extremes depending
upon what the situation called for. In times of trouble, when others were
panicking, the calm, efficient Ifurita came to the surface. But at other
times, like now, the elements of her personality derived from Makoto's
memories became more evident.
Makoto had always loved animals, and Ifurita had inherited this quality
from him.
Ifurita let the ball roll along the floor. Ura ran alongside it, tapping it. 
As
the ball picked up speed, Ura skidded and collided with a pile of discarded
ancient artefacts in the corner.
"Ow!" Ura called, largely out of habit- it took a great deal more than that
to hurt a protector like Ura.
"Sorry." Ifurita looked apologetically at Makoto, who broke out into a
smile.
"That's okay. You two be careful, now."
Ifurita crawled along the floor to fetch the ball.
"What... what are YOU doing?"
Looking up in response to the voice, Ifurita saw Shayla-Shayla in the
doorway, with Afura Mann and Qawoor Towles behind her. All three
were apparently confounded by the incongruous image of El-Hazard's
most feared weapon of destruction playing with a cat.
"Um... Makoto?" Afura started. "We're here. You said you wanted to see
us?"
"Oh, yes," Makoto said excitedly. "Come on in, I have to show you this."
Ifurita stood up to allow the priestesses past, quickly sidestepping away
when Qawoor came near. For a split second, they exchanged nervous
glances.
Makoto continued, unaware. "I've been going through the technology I've
collected over the years, and I've found something which I'm pretty sure
can reveal the prophecy."
He placed the stone cube which allegedly contained the Heretic Prophecy
in the centre of the table. Above it he held an unfamiliar cylindrical 
object,
the end of which lit up upon his touch.
"This device uses precise sonic vibrations to shatter certain types of 
rock,"
he commentated.
"You're trying to shatter it?" Shayla asked, concerned. "Is that wise?"
"Trust me."
The cube appeared to wobble slightly, and suddenly its stone coating
crumbled to sand, revealing a previously concealed metal cube inside.
Qawoor picked the cube up, and examined the many lines of inscription.

"Well?" Afura probed. "Is it the prophecy?"

"I think so. I'm just trying to..." Qawoor's voice trailed off as the
expression of puzzlement on her face grew.
"What does it say?" Shayla prompted.
Qawoor just shook her head. "Oh... dear."

Picking up the plates, Mari noticed a small tip. At least, she assumed it
was small. She had little knowledge of this land's currency, but money
was still money, so she pocketed it.
It had taken her a good few days to properly recover from the act of
healing, or at least partially healing, Princess Rune. In saving her life, 
she
had very nearly ended her own. Obviously, this new power of hers had a
heavy cost to it.

After her recovery, Nanami had offered her a job in the restaurant. Mari
had been grateful, although she suspected the offer was largely out of
sympathy. Few restaurateurs would intentionally employ a waitress who
happened to resemble Death incarnate- it would ruin the atmosphere. On
top of that, Mari wasn't at all suited to this sort of work. She wasn't a
people person. Nanami was, and that was precisely why she was so
successful. She and her assistant Mycea were always making banter with
the customers. Mari, meanwhile, kept conversation to the absolute
minimum she could get away with. Wasn't it enough that she gave these
people their food?
She didn't know why, but she was desperately afraid of talking to people
she wasn't already familiar with. There was one person, however, who she
could never avoid talking to, and he was staring her in the face right now.
"Hello, Parnasse."
"Hi, Mari!" Parnasse beamed. "What's up?"
"Nothing's up," Mari sighed, clearing the dishes from the table behind
him. "Why?"
Parnasse got up and followed her. "You just look sad, that's all.
Something MUST be bothering you."
"You're mistaken. Nothing is bothering me. With the possible exception
of you."
Parnasse continued unabated. "In all the time you've been here, Mari, I
don't think I've seen you smile once."
"I smile when it's appropriate," Mari replied. "At the moment I have
nothing in particular to smile about."
"But you just told me you weren't sad."
"I'm not happy or sad at the moment, Parnasse," she said tersely. "I'm just
feeling... adequate. Is that a good enough explanation for you?"
"Look," Parnasse said, trying to sound authoritative. "I just think that if
you have nothing to be sad about, you might as well smile."
"Okay then," Mari challenged. "If you're such an expert on emotions, then
tell me this. Two months ago, I was walking down the street, when along
came a dimensional anomaly which brought me here, to a fascinating new
world. Now, I've been stranded in a forest, mistaken for Death, I've
acquired amazing powers, witnessed an assassination attempt and saved
the life of a princess. Now, after all of that, don't you think I should 
feel...
something?"
"Hmm..." Parnasse pondered. "I guess..."
"Well, I don't!" Mari continued. "All this incredible stuff has happened to
me and I still feel exactly the same as I did before. The same as I've
ALWAYS felt. No matter what happens to me, no matter what I achieve, I
still feel the same in the end. That is not normal. Is it?"
"I don't know..." Parnasse hesitated. "But... uh... hey, you have nice 
eyes."
Mari stared back at Parnasse's smiling face. The universe had gone mad.
"I'm going on my break," she sighed, shaking her head and marching into
the back room. She walked silently past Nanami, who was returning from
her own break.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Parnasse grinned to Nanami.
"She's one of a kind, there's no denying that," Nanami nodded.
"Do you think she likes me?" he said hopefully.
"I have no idea," Nanami admitted. "Not a clue. I don't know what goes
on in that girl's head. She's a total mystery."
"But she does live here with you, right? I mean, you must talk to her a
lot."
Nanami positioned herself behind the counter. "She doesn't seem to like
talking. In fact... it's strange. She hardly says a word to me when we're
not working. Frankly, I'm more than a little worried about her."

Miz stood in Makoto's doorway, examining the expressions of Makoto,
Ifurita, Shayla and Qawoor, and trying to identify the emotion. Even Ura
shared their expression, and only Afura looked as calm as usual. Clearly,
the prophecy had had a profound effect upon its first reading. Precisely
what effect was less clear.
"Well now, is somebody going to tell me what it says?" she challenged.
Shayla and Qawoor looked at each other nervously.
"Go on, Qawoor," Afura prompted.
Apprehensively, Qawoor picked up the cube and stepped forward.
"Um, Miss Miz, before I start, there's something you should know..."
"What?" Miz frowned impatiently. "Is it in another language, something
like that?"
"No, no," Shayla replied. "It's in Roshtarian, alright. Go ahead, Qawoor.
Read it out."
Qawoor cleared her throat. "The Great Prophecy," she began, and, as
professionally as she could, continued.
"So clear false eyes pop out, I take them for my hat, so bizarre pure black
tears dropped from them. I try to swear, but I don't have God. Clash, the
fuse has set in my brain, it's just a part of bee-right. It's so cheap but 
no
claim or complaint. Then I feed that tiny thing some peas, he coughs just a
little bit. I don't have any pills. I wonder why not? Too confused, I found
out I lost my ancient hands. He tells me which side to flit. He's too tiny
and just clicking wings split. Where's my false eyes? Next ones could be
mine. Watch your head, it's heading straight to you."
The other occupants of the room looked at each other with a combination
of confusion and mild amusement that Qawoor had carefully enunciated
each and every word as if were the holiest of proclamations. Finally they
all looked to Miz.
"Would you like me to read it again?" Qawoor offered.
"No, that's fine," Miz assured. "Very poetic... yes, symbolic. Now, how
should we go about interpreting it?"
"Miz!" Shayla objected. "Wake up, will you? Did you HEAR it? It's
meaningless! I'm seriously wondering whether this whole Heretic
Prophecy business is just some ancient practical joke!"
"Calm down, Shayla," Afura sighed. "The prophecy has obviously been
encrypted. It's code, obviously a very clever code- one that has the
appearance of incoherent gibberish. If we want to see its true meaning,
we'll have to find a way of translating it."
"Who's going to do that?" Qawoor asked. She then regretted doing so, as
from the expressions of the others she realised she had just all but
nominated herself.

Day 62

Alielle sat perched on the side of the bed, chatting with her sister-in-law.
Far from being disheartened by her ordeal, Rune was already planning her
next move.
"I fully intend to be mobile for my next speech," she proclaimed.
Alielle frowned. "Is it really a good idea to do the speech this month? I
mean, considering what happened last time..."
"I understand your concern, Alielle," Rune smiled. "But the speech must
go ahead. As a monarchy we are responsible for the security of every one
of our citizens. If we were to bend to the will of a single aggressor, how
would that look?"
"I know, I know. I just don't want you getting killed, that's all."
"Trust me, I have no intention of dying," Rune insisted. "There simply
isn't time. Next month is the annual summit meeting and I'm going to
push for further acceptance of the Opaques by the Allied Nations. Can you
believe that most countries still refuse to acknowledge the difference
between the Opaques and the Phantom Tribe?"
"Well, you know you have my full support on that one," Alielle nodded.
"But I've a feeling it'll take more than that to push it through. 
Besides..."
she looked to the floor. "I think the leaders will probably be preoccupied
with other matters."
"Yes," Rune sighed. "Poor Fatora."
"The thing I can't understand is that she says the pregnancy part of it
doesn't bother her too much. She's just convinced herself that she's not fit
to be a parent. I don't know why."
"I see," Rune replied. "Alielle, you must understand that Fatora had a
difficult childhood. Our mother died while giving birth to her. After that,
father was never the same. He'd been the perfect father to me, and then
he... changed. Certain unfortunate things happened between him and
Fatora."
Alielle looked expectantly at Rune, as if pleading for her to continue.
"I can't say any more," Rune sighed, clearly wishing that she could. "It's
not my place to come between you and Fatora. But you should be aware
that she will need a great deal of support in this area."
Alielle nodded slowly. Fatora was indeed complicated.

"What ABOUT my father? Why the sudden interest?"
The look on Fatora's face was one of genuine shock. Alielle moved a few
steps closer.
"Fatora, I'm asking because I care. What did your father do to you? Did
he... harm you somehow?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Fatora responded, pacing around the vastness of the
library. "He never touched me!"
Suddenly, her expression of annoyance fell away, revealing the sadness
beneath.
"Never... never touched me at all. Not once. He never hugged me or even
picked me up. He despised me."
Alielle took Fatora's arm and led her to a chair. She was beginning to
understand.
"He loved Rune. She could do no wrong. She was HIS clever little girl.
And for some reason... I didn't question it. I was too young to know better.
He loved Rune more than me. That was just the way things were. Then, a
few months before he died, I made the mistake of asking him about my
mother. And that's when he told me."
"What?" Alielle prompted.
"He told me... that I'd killed her. My birth caused her death. I killed the
person he loved. That's why he hated me."
"Fatora, that's... awful. What did you do?"
"I did what any seven year old accused of killing her mother would do. I
cracked up. When he died, three months later, that just made matters
worse. I was GLAD the bastard was dead... but then I was overcome with
guilt. I'd already finished off one parent, now I was taking pleasure from
the death of the other. I couldn't cope any more. I wouldn't get out of bed,
I wouldn't eat..."
She leaned back in the chair. To her surprise, talking about this was
actually starting to make her feel better.
"In the end, it was Rune who got me out of it. I suppose she was feeling
guilty too, having always been the favourite child. So she told me that
from then on, she'd look after me. She'd take responsibility for
everything. And even to this day... she has. But now can you see why I
don't want to be a parent? I'm just so full of resentment, even now, that
I'm worried I'll screw it up just like he did."
"You can't let him dictate your life forever, Fatora," Alielle advised.
"He's been dead for a long time now."
"But he'll always be with me... always. Do you know where he got my
first name from?"
Alielle shook her head.
"Well, he was Acrisian by birth. Naturally, he spoke the language. Not
many people know that in Ancient Acrisian, 'Fatora' means 'affront'.
From the very start, he hated me. And he gave me that name, so I'd never
forget it."
"Oh, Fatora," Alielle sighed. "You poor, poor thing."
Fatora unexpectedly stood up. "Don't worry about me, Alielle. You're
right, I can't let him interfere with my life any longer. And I've made a
decision. As much as it hurts... I'm going to do my duty."
Alielle found herself smiling. "Fatora, I'm so proud of you. You can count
on me to help in any way I can. I'll bring the baby up like it's my own."
Without warning her smile broke into a grin. "Actually... I always thought
it might be nice to have a little baby..."
"You did?"
"Well, yes. Just because I'm not interested in boys doesn't mean I don't
have maternal instincts. Don't you?"
"Hmm..." Fatora pondered. "No, not really. But I'll learn."

Three figures made their way through Florestica's crowded central square.
The same square in which, two and a half weeks ago, the state of
Roshtarian-Opaque relations had been dealt a nasty and unexpected blow.
Fortunately, things hadn't broken down completely, but that didn't stop
Miz, Fujisawa and Amiri from feeling rather more self conscious than
usual as they walked together through the centre. None of them felt it
appropriate to bring the subject up, though, so instead they focused their
attention on other matters.
"He's always talking about you, Mr Fujisawa," Amiri said. "Cerev thinks
the world of you, You must be an amazing teacher."
"To be honest, doctor, the boy practically teaches himself," Fujisawa
admitted. "In all my time here, I've never encountered such a bright
student. What's your secret?"

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. I do encourage him to read. I think it's
important that he gets a good education. He's going to need as many
advantages as possible..." Amiri trailed off, realising she'd brought the
conversation back to the very topic everyone was trying to avoid.
"Why don't we go to Nanami's restaurant?" Miz offered.
"Great idea, honey!" Fujisawa nodded.
"We can meet your old student," Miz added. "I hear she's working there."
Miz and Amiri turned and headed for the restaurant. Fujisawa sighed, and
reluctantly followed.

'I bet I drop these', Mari thought as she carried two deceptively heavy
trays out from the kitchen. Two Shinonome specials for table five- the
man who kept looking at her in a funny way and the woman with the
irritating laugh- while the annoyingly cheerful old man who kept asking
her unnecessary questions had ordered some local cuisine, which in her
opinion rather defeated the object of coming to a Japanese restaurant.
That was when she saw him.
Mr Fujisawa had just entered the restaurant. She knew this was bound to
happen at some point, but... oh, why now? She wasn't prepared.
Okay. There might still be enough time to make a getaway before the
dreaded eye contact. But where could she go?
Her arms were starting to hurt from the weight of the trays.
Too late. He saw her. Damn.
Immediately, she turned around and headed back to the kitchen.
Unfortunately, a woman's voice stopped her.
"That's her, isn't it?" Miz said. "Mari, over here! Come on, don't be shy!"
Don't be shy? What sort of a request was that? Fine, Mari thought, I'll just
ditch this personality and acquire a more confident one. She put her trays
down and walked nervously up to Miz, Fujisawa and Amiri.
"Oh, it's so exciting to meet another one of Masamichi's students," Miz
continued. "I bet the two of you have so much to catch up on!"
"Yeah," Fujisawa said, confidence far from abundant in his voice. "So,
Kurai... how is... everything?"
"Fine, sensei," she replied, politely but flatly.
"And you're okay?"
"Fine, sensei," she repeated.
"Well, I'm glad to see that everything's... okay."
She nodded. "Yes. Well, I have work to do..."
Mari backed away. Fujisawa knew Miz was frowning at him even before
he looked at her.
"Masamichi, you could at least make the effort!"
"Aw, come on, Miz. It's obvious that she doesn't want to talk to me."
"No, what's obvious is that she's deeply sad and depressed. After all,
she's stuck here in an unfamiliar place, all alone..."
"Being here has nothing to do with it. Kurai was always like that."
"Well in that case, it's even more important that you talk to her..."
Amiri looked uncomfortably at the couple. The word 'domestic' entered
her head, and she tried desperately to think of a discreet way to extract
herself from the situation.
A familiar figure wandered into the restaurant.
"Alielle!" Amiri called in recognition. "Oh, I'm sorry, I mean, princess."
"Please, don't worry about that," Alielle smiled. "I keep forgetting it
myself. Anyway, I haven't seen you in a while."
"Well, actually," Amiri continued, "I'm glad I bumped into you. I hope
you don't mind me asking... is it true what the papers are saying? Is Fatora
going to have to..."
"Yes," Alielle sighed. "She's pretty much resigned to it now."
"Hmm..." Amiri mused. "In that case, I may be able to help you."

"What?" Fatora replied, incredulous. "You're kidding, right?"
"Absolutely not," Amiri said, matter-of-factly. "It is not necessary to have
sex in order to become pregnant."
"Well, doctor, forgive my ignorance on the matter, but I've heard
differently."
"Look," Amiri smiled, "although sex is generally the preferred method,
there's a range of medical procedures that can give the same effect.
They're usually used to treat infertility, but..."
Fatora's eyes narrowed. "This is Phantom Tribe medicine, isn't it?"
"We certainly don't have any equivalent in our society," Alielle added.
"The Phantom Tribe have used it for hundreds of years," Amiri said. "As a
matter of fact, I myself was conceived using such a method. It's quite
safe."
"I'm interested," Fatora responded. "It does sound more dignified than the
alternative. What does it entail?"
"Well, I'd take some egg cells from you, sperm from a donor, and mix
them up," she explained. "Then I'd implant one of the fertilised eggs. It's
as simple as that."
"That... works?" Alielle marvelled.
"We'd still have to pick a donor," Fatora sighed. "And let's face it, the
men we know are hardly the most promising bunch of candidates. I'm not
sure how confident I'd feel bringing up a daughter knowing half her genes
came from, say, Makoto Mizuhara..."
A wave of mild emotion crossed Amiri's face. She'd had an idea.
"You know, there is another option," she said hesitantly. "It's a slightly
more advanced procedure... I've never performed it myself, although I'm
familiar with the techniques..."
"Go on," Fatora prompted.
"Alielle," Amiri said, enthusiasm evident in her expression, "how would
YOU like to father Fatora's child?"

Day 76

Makoto and Qawoor sifted through the reams of paper on the desk. Each
sheet contained a different translation of the Heretic Prophecy- and all
were equally meaningless.
"Thanks for helping me with this, Master Makoto," Qawoor sighed. "But
I'm starting to wonder if we'll ever be able to translate the prophecy."
"We must be going about this from the wrong angle," Makoto pondered.
"There's got to be something we're overlooking..."
"I've tried translating into all of the languages common at the time," the
priestess continued. "I thought that maybe the change of meaning that
sometimes results from translation could unmask the true intention. But I
haven't been able to come up with anything even remotely coherent."
Ifurita strode in happily from outside, accompanied by Ura.
"Makoto! I..."
Her enthusiasm drained away as soon as she saw Qawoor.
"I mean... I'll come back later."
"No! Wait!" Qawoor insisted.
Ifurita, who had already turned away to leave, stopped.
"Miss Ifurita," Qawoor said nervously, "are you avoiding me?"
"Please don't take it personally," Ifurita replied.
"But... why?"
Makoto stood up decisively. "The thing is, Qawoor... somehow you're
affecting Ifurita. We don't know how, or why."
"Well, I'm not doing it on purpose," Qawoor assured.
"I know," Makoto said. "But this... isn't without precedent. You often
have a strange effect on ancient technology. Like the object that sent us to
Cretaria, or the spare sealing circuit from the Eye of god. We never really
did figure out how you managed to control them."
"Perhaps..." Ifurita speculated, "there is a way to find out."

Contrary to some of her previous declarations, Fatora had decided she
rather liked science. Here in Amiri's clinic in Florestica's fashionable 
East
End, she found herself surrounded by a startling array of unfamiliar
technology. There was a certain irony to it all. Nobody could deny that the
Opaques made wonderful doctors. Their knowledge was so vast in
comparison to that of the Roshtarian medical profession, that Opaque
clinics were springing up everywhere as the country underwent something
of a minor scientific revolution. The great irony was that a significant
number of the people attending this clinic were probably part of the loud,
vulgar, but depressingly ubiquitous 'Never Trust an Opaque' brigade. The
sort of nasty, petty little people who would sign petitions when an Opaque
family moved into the neighbourhood, and attend 'Keep Roshtaria for the
Roshtarians' marches, but would come running to the nearest Opaque
doctor the minute they were struck down with an ingrowing toenail or a
bout of diarrhoea. The fact that these people wouldn't trust an Opaque to
live next door to them, but would allow the same Opaque to perform
complex surgical procedures on them, just went to show that most racists
were really only racist when it was most convenient for them.
Amiri and Alielle were once again going over the principles of the
technique. As Fatora understood it, Amiri was intending to take eggs from
both of them, remove the genetic material from one of Alielle's and inject
it into one of Fatora's. Then, after treatment with a series of chemicals, 
it
would be implanted into Fatora, and that would be that.
Fatora's daughter would share the characteristics of she and Alielle. Even
Fatora, who was admittedly still rather unenthusiastic about this whole
pregnancy thing, was quite taken buy this concept. What a beautiful child
it would be! Surely, there could be no higher pedigree.
A young Opaque woman, probably around nineteen, wearing a white lab
coat and a harassed expression, walked quickly into the room and started
fiddling with one of the machines. Almost immediately, Amiri broke off
from her conversation with Alielle and darted over.
"Tenax! Stop!"
"What?" the girl challenged.
Amiri took over the controls. "You were draining buffer! You almost
ruined the reaction compartment!"
"Oops."
"Oops? This is the only cell fractionator in Roshtaria! Please, try to be
more careful!"
Fatora decided to bail the poor girl out. "So, erm, doctor, does all this
technology come from the Phantom Tribe?"
"Yes," Amiri said. "When we left, we brought as much as we could with
us, including medical equipment. Although... as you can see, we've
painted most of it white. I think it makes it look less imposing, don't
you?"
"Yeah." Fatora noticed that Alielle was staring at Amiri's assistant with a
familiar expression on her face. "Alielle, stop that. We're here to get me
pregnant... this is no time for romance!"
"This is Tenax, one of my students," Amiri said, gesturing towards the
girl. "She's quite brilliant... if a little clumsy."
"Clumsy?" Tenax echoed in disappointment.
"Yes, clumsy!" Amiri reaffirmed. "And if you break that fractionator, I
swear I'll send you back into Phantom Tribe territory to fetch me another
one." She turned back to Alielle and Fatora. "Today, we'll be extracting
the cells. It's a very quick and simple procedure."
"That's right!" Tenax chimed. "I'll be looking after your eggs!"
Alielle and Fatora exchanged nervous glances.
"Doesn't that fill you with confidence?" Amiri sighed.

Makoto stood behind Ifurita with his hands on her shoulders. Qawoor
stood directly opposite. Ura observed the experiment from the desk.
"Okay," Makoto started. "Qawoor, when Ifurita gives the word, you come
towards us. I'll do my best to read Ifurita's thoughts and figure out what's
going on."
"I'm ready," Ifurita said.
Qawoor slowly approached Ifurita. Makoto began to feel... something.
What was it? Definitely something...
Suddenly everything went white. Makoto was bombarded with images-
far, far too many to take in. He tried to focus on just one.
There was a man.

Makoto had never seen him before, and yet, there was still something
oddly familiar about him. He was middle aged, quite short in stature, and
for some reason, very angry indeed.
"GET OUT!" he bellowed. "LEAVE HER! GET OUT!"
"Who are you?" Makoto called.
The man ignored him, and continued his rant. "SHE IS NOT YOURS!
LEAVE! NOW!"
Abruptly, the link was severed. This time, it was Makoto, not Ifurita, who
passed out.
"Makoto!" Ura jumped down from the desk and ran over to where Makoto
lay, unconscious.
"It's alright, Ura," Ifurita said. "He's fine. He just... fainted."
"I wonder if he saw anything?" Qawoor pondered.

"Don't the two of you have important holy business to attend to?"
Miz and Fujisawa joined Shayla an Afura at their table. Shayla shook her
head defensively.
"Qawoor said she'd take care of that whole translation business." She
noticed the newspaper Fujisawa was carrying. "That's not the Roshtarian
Sun, is it? Don't tell me you read THAT."
"Well, they'd sold out of my usual paper," Fujisawa justified. "I thought
I'd try this one instead."
"Happy reading," she said knowingly. "So, Miz, how's the kid?"
Miz's face lit up at the prospect of speaking on her favourite subject.
"Mika said the most intelligent thing to me the other day... and you know
how intelligent she is, don't you?"
"I think you might have mentioned it," said Afura.
"Well, she said to me- 'Why is Auntie Shayla always so angry?' Isn't that
perceptive of her? Shayla? Wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah..." Shayla answered irritably.

Nanami and Mari stood in the back room, looking out on the customers.
"What's the matter?" Nanami probed. "Why don't you go out there?"
"I... just..." Mari found herself unable to finish the sentence, something
which happened a lot when she got frustrated. "Sorry," was just about all
she could manage.
"Mari, even if I have to stand here all day and drill it out of you, you're
going to tell me why you're so afraid of going out there."
Mari decided to change tactics. "Look, I'm sorry. I'll go out and serve the
customers."
"No, you don't," Nanami replied. "I want to know what's wrong."
"Fine," Mari snapped, beaten. "I don't want to have to talk to Mr Fujisawa."
"What? Why?"
"Because I don't like him! There, can I go now?"
"Not like Mr Fujisawa?" Nanami repeated it to herself, as if it was beyond
all human comprehension. "Why could you possibly dislike him?"
Mari frowned. "Listen, I don't like him, and he doesn't like me. That's
just how it is."
"Now wait, I'm not buying this," Nanami said. "I've never known Mr
Fujisawa actively dislike one of his students- least of all someone like 
you,
who was never in trouble. He's a professional, well, not in the traditional
sense, but..."
"Teachers are just the same as everyone else, you know," Mari
interrupted. "They're not up on some higher plane of existence where they
treat everyone equally. They have favourites, just like everybody does."
"Well... what happened. I mean, what makes you think he doesn't like
you?"
"There was a disagreement," Mari said. "A few days before we were sent
here. I yelled at him, he yelled at me. Our opinions of each other were
made quite clear."
For a few moments, Nanami tried to imagine the perennially quiet and
meek Mari shouting at one of her teachers, or, for that matter, at anyone.
"Mari," she finally said, "I don't know what it was that you ended up
fighting about, but I think you should try and patch it up with him. There
aren't many of us here, so I'd like to think we can all rely on each other."
Nanami walked out into the restaurant, and at last Mari was alone. Not for
long, though, as Nanami was almost immediately replaced by Parnasse.
"Hi! What's up?"
"Please. Not that question again," Mari sighed.
"I'm only asking because..."
"Parnasse, what the hell do you THINK is up? I'm lost! Hopelessly lost!
Trapped in a world I don't belong to, doing a job I'm unfit for! The only
other people here from my universe are two students I've barely spoken to
before and a teacher who can't stand me, and I'm just destined to spend
forever thinking about all the things I'll never be able to do again! Never
again will I be able to watch Sailor Moon, or import obscure punk records
from Scotland. I want to be able to watch advertisements for consumer
goods that I can't afford, and sing along to songs with English lyrics that 
I
can't understand! But I can't! Instead I'm stuck in this... this large-scale
performance of the Arabian Nights! And to cap it all, I'm being followed
around by a grinning idiot who thinks repeatedly asking me how I am is
some sort of fast-track seduction technique!"
Mari collapsed into a chair. Nervously she looked up to check Parnasse's
expression.
"Hey, um... I'm sorry, Parnasse," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to be
rude." That wasn't strictly true, but as rule she disliked upsetting people.
To her relief, Parnasse smiled.
"It's okay, Mari. I know this has got to be difficult for you."
"Oh. Well... thanks," Mari said, surprised. "That's very understanding of
you."
"And when you get over it, I'll be waiting," he continued, walking back
out to the restaurant.
"Waiting for what? Oh... Parnasse, how clear do I have to make this? I'm
not interested!"
"We'll see," he smiled.
"No we won't!" Mari called after him.

The expression of disbelief on Fujisawa's face grew as he read further and
further, until finally he could take no more. He closed the newspaper and
looked to Miz, Shayla and Afura.
"Hey, have any of you heard of some guy called Jennown Doht?"
"The Voice of Reason," Shayla recalled. "You found his column, then?"
Afura's brow furrowed. "Doht's an advisor to the Holy Order. He doesn't
have any power as such, but his... rather colourful opinions on local
politics have made him quite well known. And of course, he's also a
columnist, in that newspaper you were unfortunate enough to purchase."
"The guy's nuts!" Fujisawa exclaimed. "I mean... I can't even bring
myself to repeat some of the stuff he said about the Opaques."
Miz put her hand reassuringly on her husband's shoulder. "Now,
Masamichi, don't let it get you worked up. It's just the opinions of one
man."
"I know," he said, "but the media can be a very powerful thing. At a time
like this, is it really responsible to be stirring things up like he is?"
"Oh, nobody takes that freak seriously," Shayla dismissed.
Fujisawa wanted to smile in agreement, but couldn't. Somehow, he wasn't
so sure.

Day 84

She had been here before.
Above her- blackness. Not the blackness of infinity, but a flat, depressing
blackness.
She was lying flat, and unable to move. And there were voices- whispered
voices. She could just make them out...
"...scans all say the same thing. The gene is there, but we are unable to
pinpoint it with conventional chromosomal analysis."
"Perhaps a high-level energy burst would be enough to fool the gene into
activating transcription."
"Agreed."
Two faces appeared above her. Male, blue skinned scientists.
"Initiating burst," one of them said.
A wave of pain shot through her muscles. Her ears were filled with a high
pitched whine that masked all of the other sounds around her. Suddenly,
she was no longer sure what was real and what was imagined. Terrible
images flashed through her head, the scientists attempting all sorts of
unimaginably painful surgery as she lay there, powerless but fully
conscious.
Now something else could be heard over the whining. There was...
laughter.
Who was laughing? Who?
She couldn't see where the laughter was coming from...
Then, huge and distorted, the laughing face of her father appeared before
her.

Never before had Fatora been so relieved to wake up.
Alielle was already dressed, and very much wide awake.
"Oh, Fatora! Good morning!"
Fatora nodded feebly.
"Are you okay? You're shaking."
"Just a bad dream. I'm fine now," Fatora lied.
"Well, as long as you're okay," Alielle said, her mind clearly on other
things. "Come on now, Fatora. Time to get up. I'm so excited!"
"Hmm? What?"
"Don't tell me you forgot," Alielle smiled. "Today's the day you get our
baby put in!"

If Amiri was honest with herself, she wasn't totally sure about the wisdom
of this procedure.
Oh, the science of it was flawless. From the cells she had taken from
Fatora and Alielle last week, she had produced one successful
transformant. Perfect in every way, a single-celled zygote which contained
both Fatora and Alielle's genes, but most importantly, Fatora's
mitochondria- the extranuclear bodies which carried the royal family's
spiritual gene.
The tricky stuff had been a complete success, and Amiri was really quite
proud of herself. The problem wasn't the child. The problem was Fatora.
Amiri rather got the impression that Fatora wasn't massively keen on this
baby business. Alielle clearly was, but that was beside the point. Fatora
was doing this out of duty- a pure enough motive, perhaps, but not ideal.
And, in all probability, Fatora and Alielle would turn out to be loving and
capable parents. But carrying a baby for nine months could be a
psychological burden as well as a physical one. Yes, it was Fatora that she
was worried for.
Oh, there she went, overanalysing things again. It would probably be fine.
"Tenax," she called, "I need the tube with the transformed cell, can you
get it?"
"Just a minute," her student called back.
A doubt crossed Amiri's mind. "You... did remember to label the tube
with non-water soluble ink, didn't you?"
"Oops."
Amiri nearly jumped out of her chair. Tenax walked into the room
carrying the tiny transparent tube Amiri had requested.
"I was kidding. Here it is."
Amiri took the tube and sighed. "I can't believe I let you loose in a 
clinical
environment."
"The princesses are here, by the way," Tenax said. "Do you want me to
show them in?"

"Wow..."
Alielle stared at the tube between Amiri's fingers.
"Is it really in there?"
"Well, yes," Amiri said. "Of course, it's only one cell right now, but once
it's implanted, it'll grow normally."
Alielle stayed focused on the tube, and found herself imagining the baby it
would become. Would it have her blue hair or Fatora's black hair? Pink
eyes or brown?
"Fatora, isn't this exciting?"
Fatora sat down.
"Actually, I'm feeling a little sick. I'll just sit here for a minute."
"Princess..." Amiri said, concerned, "you look pale. Is everything alright?"
"No, no," Fatora insisted. "Come on, let's get on with this."
"Well, if you insist, Amiri said, trying to disguise her growing doubts.
"Tenax, in here."
Amiri's assistant stumbled into the room. The doctor gestured towards the
surgical bed.
"If you could just lie on the bed, princess."
Fatora gulped. Suddenly, the terrifying images from her dream came
flooding back. She couldn't help it. She started to shake.
"L... lie down? On there?"
Alielle, Amiri and Tenax stared back at the frightened princess.
"Well, I can't do my job if you're standing up," Amiri replied.
"Oh, of course," Fatora babbled. "I'm okay. I can do this."
She tried to walk over to the surgical bed. Her legs started to buckle
beneath her.
"No," she said. "I was wrong."
Then she fainted. Tenax just managed to catch her.
"I wonder what's wrong with her?" Tenax pondered. She and Amiri
looked to Alielle.
"She does seem somewhat... stressed," Amiri added.
"I suppose she has been stressed recently," Alielle nodded. "With her
sister being shot... and all the extra responsibilities... and then this 
baby
business brought up a lot of her childhood problems... oh, and she's
started having nightmares about the Phantom Tribe again for the first time
in years... and..."
"Yes, yes, I see," Amiri sighed. "Princess, I'm afraid that under these
circumstances, it would be irresponsible for me to go ahead with this
procedure."
"What?" Alielle gasped.
"Look, I'm a doctor," Amiri explained. "My primary objective is to do no
harm. And I just don't think that Princess Fatora is ready for something
like this."
"But... I'm sure she'll come round in a minute..."
"Princess, I'm sorry," Amiri reaffirmed. "It wouldn't be right."
Alielle was distraught. The mental images she'd been formulating of her
daughter began to fade. This couldn't be happening.
"Doctor?" she asked. "The baby... it's in that tube, right?"
Amiri nodded.
"And all you have to do is implant it, yes?"
"That's right..." Amiri replied.
"Well, I have a question."

Fatora blinked up at the ceiling. She'd fainted. Fainted! How
embarrassing. She wasn't a fainter. Rune was the fainter in their family.
She sat up, and came face to face with Alielle, Amiri and Tenax.
"Hey," she said. "Sorry about that. A temporary glitch. I'm, uh... ready for
the baby now, I guess." Her voice dropped slightly. 'Ready' wasn't
exactly the right word.
"Relax, princess," Amiri said. "There's no procedure to perform."
"What do you mean?"
Alielle stepped forward.
"I took the baby, Fatora. It's better this way."
Fatora looked from Alielle to Amiri, then back to Alielle.
"Will that... work?"
"Of course," Amiri said confidently. "The child still has your gene for
controlling the Eye of God. But it really makes no difference who it's
brought to term in."
"I know this isn't what you expected, Fatora," Alielle said. "But the doctor
was right. It'd be wrong to put you under even more stress."
"I... don't know what to say," Fatora said softly. She stood up and
embraced Alielle. "I'm just... glad I have somebody willing to sort
everything out whenever I screw up."
Realising that this display of vulnerability had two witnesses, she stopped.
"Well, that's enough of that. Now we just have to work out how to explain
this to my sister. And the council. And the public..."
"That's easy enough," Tenax chipped in. "Just tell them your wife
fathered your child, and now she'll give birth to it! I'd get that!"
"Uh, yeah, thanks for the advice, kid," Fatora frowned, unconvinced. "But
if you don't mind, I think I'll set my team of publicists to work on this
one. They'll come up with something. After all, I have so many of them
that they formed their own union..."
"Good," Amiri said. "Then that's all sorted out. There is just ONE thing
I'd still like to discuss..."
The royal couple looked up.
"Seeing as you're royalty, can I have something to put on the wall?" she
smiled hopefully. "Like a royal seal or something?"

Day 90

The Bugrom.
They were truly, undeniably magnificent.
Well, admittedly, in terms of raw numbers they weren't quite as
magnificent now as they had been four years ago. However, the extensive
breeding programme initiated by Lord God Jinnai and Queen Diva- while
at times rather straining the working relationship between the two leaders-
had been a great success. Their numbers still may not have been anywhere
near as great as they'd been before that unfortunate run-in with the Eye of
God, but a competent fighting force now existed... well, as competent as
could be expected of the Bugrom.
Jinnai really wanted to be out there, reclaiming the territory he'd held so
briefly, and making that bastard Mizuhara pay for the endless humiliations
which he so obviously enjoyed imposing on him. But eventually, he'd
come to realise that striking without an army was inviting defeat. And
defeat by Mizuhara was a possibility too hideous to contemplate. So he
had moved back into his own territory. He had set about breeding and
training new warriors like never before. Soon, the time would come to
strike out once more. He just needed a sign.

Right now though, he had other things to worry about.
Riding on the back of his most trusted warrior, Groucho, he led the
convoy of bugs towards Base Seven. Behind him, four of his followers
carried the pedestal upon which their queen was seated, casually observing
events.
"Mr Jinnai," she called. "How long since our last contact with base six?"
Damn, he couldn't remember. "Um... Groucho?"
"Skrbblg," Groucho gurgled.
"Hmm, three months?" Jinnai echoed.
Communication between bases wasn't all that frequent, but a gap of three
months was enough to suggest that something was seriously wrong. Base
Seven was one of the more remote outposts, located inside a small
mountain. Some five hundred warriors operated from here- or, at least,
they were supposed to.
"Come on, Groucho," Jinnai commanded. "Let's solve this mystery."
The pair sped off towards the base.

Inside the mountain, it wasn't long before Jinnai noticed the first unusual
thing.
Ice.
Absolutely ridiculous! It was summer! It was hot outside! And yet, there
were icicles hanging from the ceiling.
"What the hell is going on here?" Jinnai demanded, jumping down from
Groucho's back. "I want an explanation, and now!"
"Grblxn klrbrn. Lkdswn trnslrn bknrp?" Groucho suggested.
"Nah, that's just stupid," Jinnai dismissed. They advanced further into the
tunnel.
"Aha!" Jinnai called. Up ahead he could see two bugs standing to
attention. "Hey, you two! What happened in here? What's with all the
ice?"
The bugs didn't answer. They didn't even move.
"Morons!" he cried. "Don't just stand there, I want answers!"
He slammed his fist into the chest of the nearest bug. To his utter horror, 
it
went through. The static insect's armour shattered like eggshell.
"Yikes!" Jinnai panicked, jumping away.
Groucho moved to a safe distance from his leader. "Prsblnx," he said
meekly.
"I didn't do it on purpose, dummy!" Jinnai insisted. Turning around, he
saw that Diva had caught up, and was looking at the damaged bug as a
human might look upon a particularly messy car accident. Jinnai began to
worry.
"Diva! I... I... I didn't mean to break him, honest!"
"This warrior is dead, as is the other," she said dispassionately. "They
have been dead for some time."
"You think? How?"
"Weakening of the armour..." she continued, looking away from the
spectacle, "suggests exposure to extremely low temperatures. That would
also explain the presence of the ice. These warriors froze to death."
"I don't know," Jinnai mused. "I thought bugs were resistant to the cold."
"To a degree, yes," Diva nodded. "But I believe these warriors were
exposed to temperatures well outside the range normally encountered in
nature."
Jinnai frowned. "Interesting theory... but how did it happen? What could
freeze up a whole mountain?"
He and Groucho advanced further. And that was when the floor caved in.

"Aw, shit," he cursed, rubbing his head. "This place is starting to freak me
out."
He looked over his shoulder. A crowd of bugs were attending to Diva,
making sure that she had survived the fall intact. To his disappointment,
not one of the bugs was paying any attention to him.
"Hey! Doesn't anyone care if I'm alright?" he screamed.
Diva looked around her. "Whatever froze this base must also have
weakened the rock," she surmised.
Groucho came running excitedly over to Jinnai. "Mnrxlp! Srlbrknj!"
"What?" Jinnai said irritably. "Stop babbling, stupid! Slow down! Now,
what is it?"
"Rgrxl. Prngvbs!"
"Huh? Over where?"
Groucho pointed to a distant corner of the cavern. Jinnai could just make
out something through the darkness.
As he moved closer, his excitement grew. A static figure, with its back to
him. It sort of looked like...
It was!
A Demon God!
"Yes!" he called triumphantly. "A new weapon! Unbelievable!"
Actually... it was a little strange to find a Demon God unguarded... but,
hell, what did it matter?
Diva walked over. "Could it be? Perhaps this Demon was responsible for
the strange phenomena we've observed."
"Groucho?" Jinnai asked. "Any sign of a power key staff?"
"Dlnxbrg?" Groucho picked up an oblong metal object, about half a metre
long.
"No, idiot!" he growled. "Does that look like a power key staff to you?"
Then he noticed the hole in the Demon God's back. Unlike those of Ifurita
and Kalia, this aperture was square, not round.
"Well..." Jinnai grumbled, "actually, I guess it COULD fit. Give it here."
He took the object and plugged it into the hole. The object lit up.
Jinnai shrugged. "Must be some different kind of Demon God. A new
model, or something."
The Demon God appeared to spasm. Taken slightly aback, Jinnai removed
the staff- or whatever it was- as his new weapon turned to face him.
"Jesus Christ," the Demon God mumbled. "What on Earth was I drinking
last night?"
Jinnai looked at her face, and realised something absolutely preposterous.
She looked just like... Sakura Tamaro, the idol singer.
Coincidence, Jinnai told himself. Must be.
"As the rightful holder of the power key staff, I demand you kneel before
me as my new Ultimate Weapon!"
"What?" she enquired, disgusted.
"You heard me! I am your master!"
"You're crazy! Don't you know who I am?"
Now this was weird. Not only did she look like Tamaro, she sounded like
her too.
"S... Sakura Tamaro?" he found himself saying.
"Yes!" she grinned. "At last, recognition! I... shit! Where am I? What in
God's name are THOSE?" She pointed at the confused looking bugs.
"Never mind that," Jinnai said dismissively. "You CAN'T be Sakura
Tamaro. I mean, you're a Demon God!"
"I am NOTHING of the sort! How dare you!"
"You are too a Demon God! Why else would you have a big hole in your
back, huh?"
Sakura nervously felt her back. Oh God... the noisy skinny boy was right.
At that point, she noticed that her clothes had changed. She now seemed to
be wearing some sort of... metal bikini.
Eugh. Those things were SO last season.

"So... you really are Sakura Tamaro?"
"Yes!" she replied frustratedly. "How many more times do I have to tell 
you?"
"And you were walking back from a party, then..."
"Yes," she nodded. "In Shinonome. Next thing I know, I'm standing in a
cave with a hole in my back and wearing mechanical underwear, and you
and your big insect things are staring at me."
"I wonder..." Jinnai murmured. "Ha! I'll bet this is Mizuhara's doing!"
"Who?"
"Makoto Mizuhara... damn him! My sworn nemesis and soon to be
defeated rival!"
Sakura looked interested. "And you think this Mizuhara is responsible for
me ending up like this?"
"Without question. He's usually the one to blame in these situations."
"Mizuhara..." Sakura pondered the name for a moment. "I'll sue his ass
off for what he's done to me!"
"Sue? You're a Demon God now!" Jinnai smirked. "You can do more,
much more than just that. Think of it... we could run that bastard and his
allies into the ground!"
"Well..." she mused. "I guess that would be acceptable too."
"So what powers have you got, huh?"
"Powers? I... I dunno. I have no idea. This is all kind of sudden."
"Whatever," Jinnai said. "We'll find out soon enough."
His expression changed suddenly, to one of uncharacteristic shyness.
"Say... um, Miss Tamaro... I just thought I'd mention... I'm a great
admirer of all your work, you know. It really is a rare honour to..."
"Oh, great," Sakura sighed. "A fanboy."

TO BE CONTINUED

"Royal Operations" featured-
Makoto Mizuhara, Princess Fatora, Princess Alielle, Katsuhiko Jinnai, Doctor 
Amiri, Mari Kurai, Qawoor Towles, Parnasse Ralielle, Miz Fujisawa, Sakura 
Tamaro, Shayla-Shayla, Nanami Jinnai, Masamichi Fujisawa, Tenax, Princess 
Rune Venus, Ifurita, Afura Mann, Queen Diva, Groucho, Ura and Londs.

dooky
17th May 2001

Proofreading by the magnificent Firebird... job's a goodun!


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