Apologies if you got this intact the first time, but I've had several
messages to say that part 18 was fscked up. I can't confirm this because
my mailer doesn't keep the "body" section of duplicate emails, and since
I sent them ...

I'd strongly recommend that you don't read this until last (strangely
enough because it's the last chapter); the real reason being because
you'll spoil the whole story if you read it before time.

Jump to the bottom of the article and check for the following 3 lines
***************************************************
If you got this bit then the rest should be intact.
***************************************************

<--- cut here --->


                           Bubblegum Crisis
                                 ****
                      The Tempest Chronicles II
                                 ****
                        (c) Robin Smith 1995/6

                 Bubblegum Crisis is copyright Artmic,
                     Youmex and Toshimichi Suzuki.
          Other copyrights belong to their respective holders.
                              =========

Chapter 2.18
------------

A low murmur pervades the air steadily increasing in amplitude until it is 
apparent that someone is talking. Seconds pass by, though they seem minutes, 
the speech eventually resolving into something intelligible.

"Coffee okay Doc ?"
A woman's voice enquires.

"Thanks, I wouldn't mind a cup."
A gruff voice replies.

There is a strong odour of ... whiskey and something else; not as strong but 
tangible; memory groping for the association. An image of a crowded room with 
bright lights, loud music and ... cigarette smoke.

Fragments of memories flash by her confused mind; the voice seems familiar; 
but whose is it ? Searching through the murky depths, she pictures a woman's 
face framed by blonde hair; another image of the same woman but now with  
red-brown hair flashes up.

She opened her eyes for the first time, blinking rapidly as the increased 
light level brings the pain of the throbbing headache to the forefront of her 
mind. Above her is a shadowy form surrounded by a halo of light, it moves 
closer and she tries to focus upon the face. Her vision still blurred, she 
tries to raise a hand to wipe her eyes; a hand grasps hers holding her arm 
down firmly but gently.

Something cold, thin and polished is placed under her tongue and the rough 
skinned fingers are pressed against her wrist.
The gruff male voice mutters,
"Hmm, pulse is strong, steady and regular."
Her wrist is released and the object is removed from her mouth.
"Temperature 98.9; just a little high."

She gasped in shock as a cold metal plate is placed against her chest; it 
remains for there for a while occasionally moved from one side to the other. 
Rough fingers hold open her eyelids as a bright light is shone around, 
temporarily blotting out what little vision she had; there is a click and the 
light is extinguished.
She blinks rapidly in an effort to clear the dancing pattern of red dots that 
cloud her limited vision. The spots slowly fade into the peach coloured 
background which in turn slowly fades to grey as she slips into a welcome 
sleep; free from the aches in her head.

After packing up his equipment the doctor leaves the patient's side; shuts 
off the light and pulls the door to behind him. He returns to the main living 
area where three anxious young people await his diagnosis.

"There's no retinal damage or clouding I can see, her pupils are dilating 
okay and her eye movement is fine.
Her balance and vision won't be too good for a while, though that will 
probably clear during the night and she'll have a headache for a day so, 
but I think she'll be fine.
She needs a good night's rest and the sedative I gave her will take effect 
soon. Don't give her any liquids or food until the morning.
If she wakes and wants a drink then a sip of water will be okay but 
absolutely *no* alcohol, understand ?"

Priss nodded and added "Yeah, I got it."

"The dosage instructions for the pain killers are on the bottle.
I'd advise you and your friends to stay away from that bar in future. Young 
ladies like yourselves are asking for trouble, going to that joint late at 
night.
Next time you may not be so lucky."

Priss choked down her ire at Doc's sermon, but in a way she reflected, he was 
right.

"Yeah, well thanks for coming over Doc.
I owe you one.
Can't interest you in any concert tickets can I ?"

"Pah!",he snorted.
"You call that noise you make, music ?
Spare me from that.
I'll send you the bill as usual.
You've got my number if there's any more problems."

Priss escorted the doctor down in the lift.
When she returned Linna was looking set to leave; keys in hand,
"Mackie's already retired; poor kid's absolutely worn out.
I'm bushed as well and there's not much else I can do now unless you need a 
hand for something."
She looked at Priss enquiringly.

Priss yawned and shook her head.
"Why not sleep on the sofa ?"

"I would except that I've got a dance class first thing tomorrow and Phoebe 
is going to pick me up from my place.
You're staying I presume ?"

"Yeah, I'll sleep here and keep an eye on Sylia.
Give me a call when you're free."

"Okay, goodnight."

As the sound of Linna's car receded, Priss slumped back on the guest room bed 
and recalled the night's events before drifting off to sleep.

                                ******

She was sitting cross legged on the floor; picking out a few chords of a new 
song she was in the middle of writing when the phone rang; interrupting her 
flow.

'Who on earth is that at this time ?' she thought looking at her watch; it 
was turned two in the morning. Placing her guitar on the bed, she got up and 
picked up the receiver on the seventh ring; whoever it was, they were 
persistent she thought.

It was Mackie and in a pretty frantic state too; he'd been unable to raise 
anyone else had called her last, as he thought she would be still out. It 
took Priss a good minute to calm him down sufficiently to get a coherent 
picture of his problem.

Eventually he managed to explain that Sylia had gone off to meet someone; he 
didn't know their identity, but he was sure it wasn't Sylia's regular 
contact. Sylia said she'd be gone for a couple of hours and was now an hour 
overdue; then Sylia's emergency locator signal started bleeping away. Could 
she come over right away ?

Having affirmed she'd be over as soon as possible; Priss dragged on her 
leathers and snatched up her keys. Pausing only to lockup and set the alarm 
she mounted her bike and sped off towards Linna's apartment. Priss had 
decided that if Sylia was injured then a second pair of hands wouldn't come 
amiss.

Priss wasn't sure she could count on Nene to remain calm in this kind of 
situation; besides if Nene could be roused then she would be more useful 
pulling information from the AD Police. She had half considered calling Leon, 
but that would mean official AD Police involvement and until she was sure of 
the situation, it would be best to keep it low key.

Linna would be calm and collected enough to not panic if it came to a fight, 
and from the location of Sylia's transponder, it may just come to that. After 
parking her bike next to Linna's car Priss charged up the stairs two at a 
time, nearly tripping over a workman huddled next to an open access panel. On 
reaching Linna's door she began furiously ringing the bell and knocking on 
the door. Ignoring the shouts from the next door flat she continued to pound 
the door until there was a muffled yell from within. A bleary eyed Linna 
unlocked the door and was almost knocked over as Priss fell in; having been 
leaning against the door.

"What the hell do you think your doing at this ungodly hour ?"
Linna angrily demanded.

Priss outlined what Mackie had told her and asked why she didn't answer the 
phone.

"There's a fault with it okay ?.
An engineer is coming to fix it sometime."

"That must be the guy I almost knocked over on the stairs.
Hey, I hope your car works."

Linna had pulled on a tracksuit and a pair of spikeless running shoes.
"So do I. Okay let's go."

For once Linna's car started first time; with little or no traffic about they 
made rapid progress to the location of Sylia's transponder. At first they saw 
no sign of Sylia or her car; Linna drove slowly down the street; then Priss 
spotted the Mercedes in an alley to the right. Linna drove on a bit further 
and u-turned before pulling over just short of the alley's entrance. 
Meanwhile Priss was assembling her special gun; this time she had brought the 
larger ten round clips instead of the more compact three round.
Half unzipping her jacket; after snicking on the safety catch, she slipped 
the automatic inside; within easy reach should she need it.

"Here, I bought a spare."
Priss offered Linna a small automatic.

"No thanks, you should know I don't like handguns."
Linna was seemingly unarmed; though woe betide anyone foolish enough to think 
she was an easy target.

They advanced warily down the alley, carefully listening for any sound that 
might betray the position of anyone laying in wait.

Part way down the alley was Sylia's Mercedes; a plume of smoke curled lazily 
from under the open bonnet; one headlamp was shattered and the driver's was 
door open; a large dent spoiling the otherwise pristine paintwork. Priss 
glanced under the bonnet; the smoke came from the cooling fan's motor. She 
half turned for a moment and then looked more closely; wrapped round the 
frame and one blade was a scarf; she pulled it free and found the Silky Doll 
tag.

"Nothing inside or round it."
Linna had by now checked inside the car and the immediate vicinity, but with 
no success.

"Okay, you take the left side, I'll take the right."

They worked their way into the darker parts of the alley; eventually finding 
Sylia lying prostrate amongst the litter and garbage that cluttered the alley 
floor. She was either stunned or unconscious; face up amongst the trash, her 
clothes soiled and marked from the puddles of dirty water.

"Keep watch while I check her over."
Linna slapped Sylia lightly on each cheek, hoping to elicit some response; 
nothing.
"Hmm, bruise on the left jaw; she's out cold, pulse seems okay."
Carefully she checked to see if there were any obvious broken bones, but 
found none. As she felt gently around the back of Sylia's head her hand 
contacted some wet and sticky. Gingerly she withdrew her hand; it was 
streaked with blood.
"There's blood on the back of her head."

"Kuso, you don't think ...."

"Look, I said her pulse seems okay.
Now gently support her, whilst I take a closer look."

Priss gently raised Sylia whilst Linna carefully examined the back of Sylia's 
head.
"It doesn't look too bad, I think it's a relatively small cut.
It might need a stitch though; difficult to tell with the congealed blood 
in her hair."

"Think it's safe to move her ?"

Contemplating for a moment, Linna replied,
"Yes, but why ?"

"If we call an ambulance, then the cops get involved. If Sylia was conscious 
I don't think that would be a problem, but look at the place. The cops are 
going to be asking what Sylia was doing in this area; it's not where you'd 
expect to find the well off owner of a lingerie shop is it ?"

"Okay that's true.
So what have you got in mind ?"

"We take Sylia back to her place; put her in some of my clothes so it looks 
like we've been clubbing together; I call a doctor who's fixed up me and 
some of my biker friends in the past. He knows his stuff and won't ask any 
awkward questions."

"How are you going to explain the bump on the back of Sylia's head ?"

Smiling Priss replied,
"Bar fight."

"You sure ?"

"Course I'm sure, seen enough of them."
Priss winced as she recalled one in particular; when she was performing at a 
particularly seedy club. However unlike the Replicants the club was long 
gone.
"Been in a few as well.
Trust me on this one."

"Hmm, okay, if you think it'll work.
How do propose we get back and what do we do about the Mercedes ?"

"Your car's seats recline ?"

"The front ones do ... Ah now I see.
You want to lay Sylia back on the front seat like a stretcher ?"

"Yeah, I can sit in the back and steady her head."

"All right, what about the Mercedes ?"

"Leave it, Mackie or Sylia can report it as stolen in the morning.
Only thing I haven't figured is how to get Sylia into the car.
We can't carry her like a box of spare parts ..."
Priss started waving her hands about to illustrate the problem but gave up.
"Aww hell, you know what I mean - she's all bendy."

"Help me stand her upright against this wall."

"What ?"

"Come on, give me a hand here."

Priss grumbled but assisted Linna in standing Sylia upright, her back to the 
wall.

"Right now squat in front of her.
No, move to your right a bit.
Okay ?"

"Yeah, now what ?"

Linna gently folded Sylia over Priss's left shoulder.
"Hey, what did you do that for.
How am I supposed to move now ?"

"Relax will you and stand up straight, I'll help support her.
When you stand up hold her legs against you, it'll stop her slipping off 
your shoulder."

Priss stood up slowly, assisted by Linna taking some of the weight.
"Okay, let's go before my shoulder complains too much; Sylia may be slim but 
that doesn't make her a feather weight.
You ready ?."

Linna followed Priss and supported Sylia's head and shoulders.
"Yes, sing out when we get to the car or if you see someone."

They made it to the car without incident, Priss leaning against the car until 
Linna got the doors open. Carefully they manoeuvred Sylia onto the front 
seat, strapped her in with the seat belt and reclined the seat as far down as 
possible. This had an added bonus of almost completely hiding her from 
outside view.

There was a heart stopping moment for them both when Linnas car failed to 
start immediately; fortunately it fired on the third attempt and they had a 
quiet but uneventful ride back to Lady633. Mackie came down and helped them 
get Sylia up to the penthouse and they laid her down on her bed. Linna then 
took Priss back to her trailer to pick up some of her gear; where she 
carefully selected a spare jacket, an unwashed tee-shirt and jeans.

Linna dropped Priss off to pick up her bike and they each made their own way 
back to Lady633; Priss of course arriving first despite Linna's initial head 
start. Mackie had called the number Priss had left him; the doctor was on his 
way over.

Quickly she and Linna stripped Sylia of her own clothes and dressed her in 
Priss's unwashed clothes; Linna wrinkled her nose.
"Phew, you might have brought some clean stuff over."

"Don't be daft, remember we've just come back from a bar fight after a good 
dancing session; you're not going to smell fresh as a daisy after that sort 
thing. Same reason for not cleaning her face or hands up; it would just 
look suspicious."
Replied Priss as she ruffled Sylia's normally tidy hair up a bit.

"Sorry, hadn't really thought about it.
Okay Mackie you can come in now."

He lost no time in coming to see Sylia; stretched out on the bed; despite the 
rumpled clothing she still radiated a certain air of elegance. Priss was 
checking out Sylia's makeup collection, looking for the most garish lip 
gloss; the best she could find though was a not too bright red.
"It'll have to do I suppose."
She muttered, before applying a heavy coating to her own lips.

Linna noticed what she doing and cried,
"Priss what on earth are you doing now ?
This is hardly the time or place to do your makeup."

"Watch and learn."
With that she leant over and pressed her lips firmly against
Sylia's; Mackie turned his head away; Linna was open mouthed in shock.

"Ugh, Priss that's sick, how could you ?"

Taking a tissue from the box Priss dabbed it over her own lips; used another 
to wipe the remaining gloss from her own lips and a third to badly smudge 
Sylia's. She then discarded all three into the basket under the dressing 
table.
"Amateurs, I'm surrounded by amateurs.
You've never been to a rough night club, have you ?
In those sort places don't expect to keep your lip gloss in perfect 
condition.
If I'd applied it direct to Sylia there would be too much left on her lips 
and it wouldn't give the right sort of smudged look.
You think that was a pleasant thing to do ?"
Then with a mischievous wink she added,
"Too bad Sylia's out cold."

Sidling over to Mackie she whispered something to him that Linna didn't 
catch.
"Think you can do that ?"
She asked afterwards.

"Yes, I'll manage."
Mackie pointed to a set of doors; a built-in wardrobe and cupboards.
"They're in there I think."

Kneeling down she rummaged through the bottom of the cupboards until rising 
with a suitably scuffed pair of shoes which she proceeded to casually discard 
at the foot of the bed. Removing her own socks, Priss dropped them on top the 
shoes; finally she draped the jacket over the back of a chair.
"That should do it.
Before you ask; one word - atmosphere.
Look the part and your audience will believe you much more easily.
Now all we need is for our audience to arrive."

As if on cue, the intercom chimed, heralding the arrival of the doctor.

"That's real clever, there's more to you than meets the eye."
This was a previously unseen side to Priss. It caused Linna to wonder if 
she'd pulled other tricks over them in the past.

"Save your breath, it hasn't worked yet.
I'll go fetch our medical friend."

Priss used the private lift to bring 'Doc' up; she didn't want him seeing any 
more than necessary; it would keep questions to a minimum that way.

'Doc' was surprised when he saw the surroundings on exiting the lift; how had 
his young ex-patient acquired such an plushly furnished place ? He looked at 
her enquiringly.

"I know what you're thinking Doc; it's not mine, it belongs to the family of 
my injured friend."

"Mmm, I'd kind of worked out it wasn't yours."
He cast another glance around the apartment; they must be rich to afford a 
place like this; he began to think of a larger fee.
Unfortunately Priss had noticed the glint in his eye and the slight twitch as 
he surveyed the apartment.

"Don't even think about it Doc; she's my friend and my friends are her 
friends. Do you understand me ?"

He looked at Priss and saw her grim look of determination. 
Then he recalled who some of her 'friends' were and shuddered at thought of 
meeting them one night.
"Yeah, I get the picture.
The normal rates will apply.
Where's the patient ?"

"She's in here."
Priss lead him through to Sylia's bedroom.

"Either of you two related to her ?"
He asked Linna and Mackie.

"I am, she's my sister."

Doc looked at Mackie and said he looked rather young to be left alone with 
his sister, especially if she goes off and gets into fights regularly.

Priss looked at Mackie and enquired,
"Say I meant to ask earlier, where's pops tonight ?"

"He's not here; working late again I think.", Mackie replied.
Priss's subterfuge was designed to make Doc think the head of the household 
was out rather than lying on the bed in front on him.

"What about your mother then ?"

"She died when we were young, I hardly knew her."
Mackie hung his head slightly as Priss had suggested to him earlier.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
He looked at Mackie and then to Sylia on the bed; a pair of youngsters with 
no mother and a father who works late rather than be with his children. He'd 
seen it many a time before and would no doubt come across it again, but it 
always made him feel sympathetic towards those children deprived of a loving 
family.

It was rather cramped with four of them standing in Sylia's bedroom;
Doc was trying to find space to open his bag an layout his equipment.
"Let's have some room in here, I can't examine her with so little space."
Unpacking his bag, he began the examination.

                                ******

[Morning]

A slumbering form stirs gently as the morning sun streams through the gaps in 
the blinds creating alternating patches of light and shadow. Shading her eyes 
against the bright light she stretches in the growing warmth; as she turns 
her head away from the sunlight she is aware of a sharp pain. Gingerly she 
feels the back of her head and discovers a very sore spot that is rough to 
the touch. She sits up gently fingering the spot; recalls the fight, but not 
how she returned to her home and then ....

The true horror of the previous night returns with avengeance; the loss of 
her brother; she is now the sole survivor of her family line. All her self 
control lost, she breaks down crying; great wracking sobs punctuated only by 
pauses for breath. The bed sheet becomes quickly soaked from the floods of 
tears cascading down cheeks. For several minutes she sits there wallowing in 
her grief and solitude; eventually she recovers her composure sufficiently to 
get up. Her mind a kaleidoscope of mixed emotions, Sylia washes and slips on 
a kimono. She wanders about in a daze, mindlessly doing things through habit 
rather than conscious thought; making breakfast and printing off today's 
paper.

Sitting down at the table by the window, she spreads a thin layer of fruit 
preserve on the lightly buttered toast and begins to read the day's news. Her 
eyes have a glazed look to them; she's not concentrating on the paper at all; 
just aimlessly turning the pages; her attention wandering to nowhere in 
particular. For some reason Sylia's not initially cogniscent of, she abruptly 
turns back to the front page, then her attention focuses on the date, 'This 
is Saturday's copy, I must have printed the wrong one.'

Mentally cursing the error, Sylia returns to her keyboard and carefully 
selects 'today' from the menu and presses the print button. As the first page 
rolls out of the printer she does a double take - it's the same, but today is 
Tuesday!
She is about to check the computer when the door-phone chimes; switching it 
to visual mode reveals a chirpy looking young redhead; 'Nene' her memory 
eventually informs her.

"Hi Sylia."

"Hello Nene."

"Aren't you opening the shop today ?"

"Err shop ?
No, I don't think so, not after last night's events.
How's your arm and hand ?"

A look of puzzlement crosses Nene's face.
"Fine, why'd you ask ?"

"I thought it would be giving you some pain after the pounding it took 
yesterday."

Even more puzzled now Nene asks,
"Are you feeling all right ?
You're not making much sense Sylia."

"What day is it Nene ?"

"That's a strange question to ask, but it's Saturday."

"Then you'd better come on up."

Totally bewildered by the odd direction of the conversation, Nene waits for 
Sylia open the door. Eventually the door clicks but instead of opening, it 
remains closed; gingerly Nene tries the door; it's unlocked but there's no 
sign of Sylia. Latching the door behind her, Nene is now concerned at Sylia's 
non appearance and decides against waiting for the lift and takes to the 
stairs, running as fast she can; occasionally taking them two at a time. 
However by the time she reached the fifth floor Nene was tiring and wishing 
she'd waited for the lift; the thought of Sylia possibly trouble spurs her on 
and she makes it to the sixth floor gasping for breath.

Pausing for a moment to catch her breath Nene pushes open the door and steps 
into Sylia's apartment, slightly flushed. Sylia is seated by the window still 
in her kimono and sipping her coffee; at first she fails to notice Nene's 
arrival; when she does it's not at all like the person everyone is familiar 
with.

Sylia gives a slight smile and sighs,
"Hello Nene, come and sit down.
There's some coffee in the jug."

Nene is now certain there's something wrong and thinks,
'Sylia always offers me tea first.
She knows I rarely drink coffee.'
"I'll make some tea, would you like some ?"

Silence.
Nene steps over to Sylia who is blankly staring out the window,
"Hey, are you all right ?"

"Mmm, oh hello Nene."
Sylia seems more detached than usual, still staring out the window; eyes 
focused on nothing in particular.

Nene looks carefully at Sylia and notices the ragged edges to her usually 
perfectly manicured nails.
"Are you feeling all right Sylia ?
Do you want to talk about it ?"
She pulls a chair from under the table and finds a jacket, helmet and set of 
keys on the seat.
"When did Priss get here ?"

"Mmm, Priss ? Where ?"

'Oh my word, she's in post traumatic shock from something.'
Nene thinks in horror and turns round.
"I'll just go check."

Nene pokes her head around Mackie's door, but the bed is unslept in.
She almost calls out to Sylia to ask of Mackie's whereabouts but decides to 
postpone that for a moment.
'Hmm. Priss wouldn't be in Sylia's room or Sylia would know she was hear; I 
guess she's in one of the guest rooms.'
Opening the door to the first guest room reveals Priss asleep on top of the 
bed still fully clothed from last night.
Nene calls from the doorway, "Priss, you awake ?"
When she gets no response she steps over the bed and gives Priss a gentle 
shake by the shoulders; this at least gets a grunt and mumble in response.
Further shaking and several, "Come sleepyhead wake up." elicits a "Whhaa ... 
Who ?", followed by Priss sitting upright; her head almost colliding with 
Nene's.

"What are you doing here?
How on earth did you get in ?"

"Well the shop wasn't open, so I rang the bell and Sylia let me in."

"SYLIA let you in ?
She's up ?"
Priss realised the last question was somewhat superfluous since Nene had said 
Sylia had let her in.

"Yes, it was after a rather strange conversation; she sounded rather 
confused. Then she didn't come down to meet me but just unlocked the door.
There's something wrong with Sylia isn't there ?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it in a bit.
Go rouse Mackie, he'll want to up now Sylia's on her feet again."

Nene hesitated,
"I didn't see him when I checked his room a moment ago."

"Where's he gone to ?
Come on, let's go check."
Priss hopped of the bed and headed for the door, Nene trailing behind. They 
went towards Mackie's room; Sylia was gazing vacantly outside, totally 
oblivious to their passage through the main living area.
Looking at Sylia, Priss whispered to Nene,
"I'm not sure she's on this planet at the moment."

They reached the door to Mackie's room and cautiously entered.
Nene pointed to the neat bed with a nary a crease in sight; clearly it had 
not been slept in. Priss walked over to the window and opened the blinds; 
light flooded in. Turning round she saw Mackie fast asleep in the corner 
chair behind the door.
"Fine detective you'd make, there he is", Priss said pointing to the chair.

Blushing from the embarrassingly simple oversight she'd made, Nene looked at 
Mackie slumped in the chair.
"I guess he must have sat down and fallen asleep almost instantly."

"Yeah, well he looked pretty shattered last night.
Well actually it was early this morning.
I'll wake him up, you'd better go see how Sylia's doing."

"Okay."
She was halfway out the door, when Nene realised she'd subconsciously 
accepted Priss's instruction as she would have Sylia's; was Priss becoming 
more mature in her outlook ?

Nearing the table Nene observed that Sylia was like a living statue; just 
sitting there gazing out the window; it was like a fugue state; locked in an 
inner world ignoring reality around her. Nene sat down, Sylia failed to even 
acknowledge her presence; she searched for something to break the silence.
"Uhh, Sylia are you feeling okay ?"

The response was not what she expected; Sylia said nor moved for a minute or 
so.
"Oh, hello Nene.
How's your arm and hand ?"

Too stunned to speak for a moment, Nene stammers out,

"Th-they're both fine; look."
She holds out her hands for Sylia to see; who seemingly fails to notice.
"Priss, Mackie; get in here. I think she's in shock."

For a moment or two all is quiet; then Sylia twitches slightly before 
uttering one word, "Mackie"
She half whispers it; almost reverently. Then she drops forward onto the 
table, her head resting on her folded arms. The silence is broken as she 
begins to sob; gently at first then increasing in its intensity into a loud 
wail.

Mackie and Priss came running at the sound of Sylia's cries.
"What in heaven's name happened ?"
Pris inquired.

"I don't know.
All I said was 'Priss, Mackie; get in here. I think she's in shock.' then 
she burst out crying after leaning on the table."

"Well I can't see how that would do this."
Mackie indicated the gently heaving form of his sister. He sat down next to 
Sylia and as he tried to comfort her, he heard his name between the sobs. 
Gently taking one arm he lifted her off her arms; her eyes were closed; her 
cheeks were damp ;there were wet patches on the sleeves of her kimono and 
there were drops of moisture on the table's surface. He dabbed away the 
moisture from her face with a tissue; holding her hand in a tender caress.
"Come on sis, please snap out of it.
This isn't like you, you're supposed to be the strong one.
You were always there when I had it bad when ..."
The words stuck in his throat at first,
"When dad died.
You comforted me when I was down and brought me back from the edge."
Now there were tears in his eyes as well.

Her sobbing slowed as Mackie spoke and her eyes opened again to see the tears 
in his eyes. Her hand came up and she wiped the tear away as it trickled down 
his cheek.
"Yo-you're okay ?", she whispered between sniffles and leans forwards, 
hugging him.
The embrace lasts for several minutes during which Nene and Priss slip 
quietly over to the far side of the room; neither wishing to intrude on the 
emotion of the moment.

Priss makes a call to Phoebe's; fortunately Linna's classes have finished. 
After explaining that one her friends has been assaulted and injured to the 
manager, Linna heads towards Sylia's.

Nene and Priss retire to the sofa where Priss explains what transpired last 
night. Occasionally they glance over to Sylia and Mackie who are clearly 
engaged in their own private talk.

"Unless Sylia's suffering from some kind of delusion as result of being hit 
on the head, I don't see why Sylia asked me if what day it is."

"We don't know how she was left unconscious nor how she gained the cut on her 
head. You're probably right in that she got belted from behind though; 
assuming she can remember; we're just going to have to ask her."
She caught sight of a motion across the room; Mackie was beckoning for them 
to come over.
"Guess we're about to find out, come on."
Priss said rising from the sofa.

"I need a drink, does anyone else want one ?"
Nene asked and received several nods in response. She returned to the table 
after a short time; carrying a tray laden with tea, coffee and large plate of 
biscuits. As Nene sets down the tray the door-phone chimes. Mackie motions 
that Nene should answer it; she presses the button to activate the viewing 
camera and then swiftly presses the button to open the door.
"Okay, Linna's here."

Sylia waited until everyone had got their drink before speaking.
Her eyes were rimmed with red and lines were visible on her face from where 
she'd been crying. Her voice was not it's usual strong authoritative tone, 
there was an unfamiliar tremor evident.
"Mackie has explained what happened last night although I don't remember 
anything about it at the moment. The first thing I recall is waking up this 
morning in bed and a sore bump on the back of my head; I thought this was a 
result of the battle last night."

"Battle ? That must have a large fight you were in last night.
How many people were involved ?"
Exclaimed Nene.
"Why did you ask me what day it was ?"

Hands clasped together as if in prayer; Sylia rested her chin atop her 
fingers, drew in a deep breath and sighed slightly as she exhaled slowly.
Gathering herself for an arduous task ahead she took another deep breath, 
trying to keep a grip on the mixed emotions the story she was about to relate 
would stir within her.

"Please, slow down a bit Nene; I'm still not entirely sure of what happened 
myself, though I'm confident it was a result the blow to the head I 
received last night."

                                ******

Slowly at first; as if it was a strain to remember things, Sylia recounted 
the story of Tempest and the final battle in which they all almost perished. 
There lots of pieces she left out; after all she wasn't prepared to let on 
about her father's work to everyone.
It was now pretty obvious to her that she'd had a very vivid dream, though 
where the character of Tempest had come from she just couldn't fathom. 
'Perhaps I ought to take a holiday', she thought, 'or maybe do something 
different.'

Nene nodded,
"Now I understand your question about the day.
I'm sorry about doubting you; it must have been quite dramatic."

"Can you remember anything about last night ?
We found you lying unconscious in the alley.
There was no sign of anyone around though."
Linna asked, indicating Priss was the other party.

Replied Sylia, shaking her head.
"Nothing at all I'm afraid. The last thing I recall was going out to the 
meeting and getting out of the car, but as to who or where; I've no idea.
>From what Mackie has told me I must have triggered my emergency beacon 
before passing out; though I don't recall doing it."

Priss cursed, she'd forgotten to ask Mackie to report the Mercedes as being 
stolen
"Kuso! I knew there was something I hadn't done.
Mackie can you call the ADPolice and report the Mercedes as being stolen; 
or if you feel up to it perhaps you could do it Sylia."

"Ehh, what are you talking about ?
The Mercedes is down in its usual place."
Linna explained, slightly puzzled at Priss's statement.

"What!
Are you sure ?"
Priss spluttered.

"Hey I should know; I parked my car next to it."

"This I have to see, I'll be back in a moment."
Priss rose from her chair and headed for the lift. She returned some ten 
minutes later carrying two envelopes and looking very puzzled.

"Well, do you believe me now ?"

"Yeah, I believe you okay.
Did you check it over when you parked ?"

"No, why should I do that ?
I'd have thought the ADPolice would have done that."
Linna stated and then added, "Except of course they obviously haven't."

"Well there's something odd very going on because the headlamp is no longer 
broken, plus the dent and scratches have gone.

The question is, how did it get back here ?"

"Where did the envelopes come from ?"
  Sylia asked.

"They were on the driver's seat.
Judging by the feel, one has the keys in it.
Neither are marked, but I assume they're for you."
Priss said handing Sylia the envelopes.

Sylia opened the heavier of the two envelopes first; Priss was correct in her 
estimation; one did hold the keys but there was no note. Carefully she opened 
the second envelope; inside was a small piece of badly yellowed newsprint 
clipped to a sheet of paper.
Sylia read the clipping; it was an obituary for someone but the corner with 
the name on had been cut or torn off. She unfolded the sheet of paper and 
read the half page of neatly hand written gothic script; it was in German. 
She and Mackie would have to travel to Germany and present the clipping to a 
firm of solicitors where it's authenticity would be validated. Assuming a 
satisfactory conclusion, they would be given control of a European company 
that had been left to Mackie and also learn some more about their father's 
work.

Sylia considered the previous day's events and the letter she held in her 
hand ...

                                ******

                             The End (maybe)

                                ******

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(c) Robin Smith 1995/96                    Tempest@ktsabers.demon.co.uk
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If you got this bit then the rest should be intact.
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-- Mink/Tempest   aka Robin Smith        Author: "BGC : The Tempest Chronicles"
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/2302    Lichfield, Staffordshire, United Kingdom
"I was committed once, but the fools let me out for good behaviour !"
IRC :  Mink  or  Tempest-    [ but "Mink" most of the time ^_^ ]