Sorry for the long delay.  I've been sick, etc.  Here's the next
chapter, and I'll have more up shortly.

As always: http://www.bloodgod.com/smgray/index.html

Also as always, I'm happy to hear any and all commentary.

Django Wexler (khaine)
khaine@mindless.com

Mark McGwire hit 70 home runs and Bill Clinton got to third base. 
        -Jon Carroll

Chapter Eleven
     Hotaru
 

     "How much do you remember?"

     "It is impolite, you know, to question your Lord."  Haruka's smile
had a bit of humor in it, so I decided to press my luck.

     "I'm just trying to...understand.  How much do you remember from
before you came into your power?"

     She shrugged.  "Not very much, I admit.  I put such childish years
aside, to make room for more important things."

     "But you remember me."

     "Oh yes."  Her smile broadened.  "Oh yes, I remember you.  The four
of us, caught up in a celestial play.  The Lord, the Consort, the
Daughter, and the Traitor.  I remember."

     "The...traitor?"

     "The Dark One.  Who's name must not be spoken.  She who cast me
down from on high into a pit of despair, she whose machinations I must
thwart at every turn.  My shadow, my nemesis.  I remember."

     "Who is she?"

     "She is the worst of them, the worst of those who seek to deny my
power.  But I've laid my plans for her.  Her days are numbered, and the
war between Heaven and Hell will be brought to a close."  Haruka sat
back in her throne, chin in her hands, brooding.  "Oh, yes.  You'll
see."

     I was hesitant to disturb her vengeful reverie.  If not for the
fact that it was her, in the flesh, I would not have believed it.  I
still felt numb, trying to conceive what could have done this.  

     Order, I felt, must be imposed on the mind.  I started by listing
the possibilities I could think of, but the list was depressingly short:
first, that Haruka's body was being used by something that really was a
god.  Second, that her mind was somehow being controlled.  Or third,
that she'd for some reason gone stark raving mad.

     There was always, I supposed, the outside chance that she actually
*had* become a god, somehow, and that everything she'd said was true.  I
deemed that unlikely, under the circumstances.

     "My...My Lord..."  I stumbled over the title, and she focused on me
again, eyes suddenly sharp.

     "You?"  Her face creased in a surprised sneer, as though seeing me
for the first time.  "What are you doing here?"

     I matched her gaze and felt the color drain from my expression.
"I...you summoned me."

     "Did I?"  The sneer remained.  "Why would I do that?"

     "I wished to beg a boon of you, o Lord."  The ridiculous language
was coming easier, and it seemed to please her.

     "A boon?"  She put her head on one side.  "Why not?  What do you
wish?"

     "I want to talk to..."  Pause, and a deep breath.  Haruka's
expression earlier had implied that all was not right between her and
the other Senshi, wherever they were.  But I needed to talk to someone,
and someone who thought she was a God was not proving very helpful.
Somewhere deep inside me, rational Hotaru gibbered -- I pushed her down
mercilessly.  It was something I'd learned from Jahara: when things go
strange, the person who freezes, staring and shouting "Impossible!", is
often not the one left standing afterwards.  React first, think later
when the situation demands it.  Plus, traveling the worlds had exposed
me to the fact that the multiverse is a strange, strange place.  Saying
"That doesn't make sense!" rarely accomplishes anything.

     "I want to talk to the Consort."

     Haruka crossed her hands in front of her face, her expression
amused.  "Do you, now."

     "Please.  Let me see her."  Assuming, of course, that she was still
alive.

     She considered for a moment, then shrugged.  "Well, a boon is a
boon."  Haruka clapped her hands and a pair of young men, dressed in
rags but armed with serviceable automatics, appeared from a side door.

     "Thank you, My Lord."  I stood, not sure of what to do next.
Haruka pointed at me and chuckled.

     "She wanted to see the Consort of the Lord."  The young men bowed
deeply.  "So throw her in the dungeon."

     I didn't bother to protest as the pair grabbed my arms.  Haruka
stood from the throne as they dragged me from the room, eyes bright and
insane.

     "And prepare the grounds!  There will be a battle soon, I have
foreseen it!  Our warriors must be sanctified.  Have Kirin prepare an
appropriate sacrifice."

     

     It seemed a little redundant at this point, but I once again noted
to myself that this was not the slickest plan I had ever executed.

     The 'dungeon' Haruka had referred to was a pit that had probably
once been the basement of the building.  The wooden stairs leading down
into it had long since fallen in or been destroyed, and the two men
simply heaved me over the edge and into the darkness.  Reflex took over
as I fell and I twisted to land on my feet, absorbing the impact with a
crouch.  The words that would activate my transformation tingled on the
back of my tongue, but something told me it wouldn't help.

     The basement was completely dark, save for a faint reflected glow
from the bonfire up above.  I stood still a moment, letting my eyes
adjust and my hearing pick out new sounds.  I heard a squeak and a
rattle from one corner, and from somewhere the faint splash of running
water.  And that was all.

     My legs folded under me with disturbing suddenness and I landed
heavily on a floor of cold stone and splintered wood.  My body seemed to
be acting of its own accord, and I felt myself curling up again.  The
problem with operating on pure reaction, pure response, is that when
you're given a spare moment the impact of everything that's happened
hits you in a wave.

     I cursed myself, cursed my body and my mind.  The tiny core of my
soul watched in disgust as my eyes filled with tears and I rocked backed
and forth, curled up into a ball, lost and terrified and alone.  

     Any of the others would have done something.  Ami would have
thought of a plan.  Rei would have challenged her to a duel, provoking
catharsis through combat in a dramatic confrontation.  Even Minako, even
*Usagi* would have done something, talked to her, made her laugh.
Something.

     Jahara would have waved his hand, and fixed everything.

     Except he wouldn't have, not really.  I remembered a conversation
we'd had on the world of Genkaris, an advanced civilization in the
process of tearing itself apart with a travesty of a world government.
We'd been tracking a fugitive there, and gotten stuck, and I remembered
looking around at the ultra-tech streets in amazement.

     Jahara had told me they were doomed, all of them, that the planet
was months away from global war.  I asked him why he didn't do something
about it.

     "What would you have me do?"

     We were standing in the middle of the Palace of Living Crystal, a
spectacular construction that was both park and fountain.  Flowing water
arched over our heads in streams to crash down on the other side of the
path.  Other flows were shaped in mid-air by invisible fields of force,
twisted in fantastic shapes  that glittered with broken light.  It was a
warm, pleasant night -- all nights were warm and pleasant, on Genkaris
-- and we were surrounded by young people in groups of two, or three, or
four, walking through the garden of water, talking and laughing.  It
certainly didn't look like the precursor to any kind of apocalypse.

     "Anything!"  I threw up my hands.  "You have so much *power*,
Jahara.  Use it!"

     "How?"

     I stopped, and for a moment there was only the susurration of the
water and the muted buzz of distant conversations.  "I don't know."

     "Listen to me, Hotaru.  This is important."  The green-haired giant
knelt, to put himself more at my height.  "We are the same, you and I.
Guardians of Power Incarnate.  Of Death.  Do you understand?  We are not
given the power to create love, or inspire wisdom, or promote peace.  We
are the avatars of destruction."

     It was one of the few times I'd ever screamed at him.

     "That's just...just an *excuse*.  You say that because it means you
don't *have* to try.  Everything is already foreordained, so why bother?
And then when everything goes to hell you can just shake your head and
walk away.  You say that because if you tried, sometimes you'd screw
things up, make things worse, and you're too scared.  You've got more
power than a whole pantheon of gods, and you won't do anything with it!
You're a *coward*!"

     I don't know what I expected, then.  Maybe a slap, maybe a bolt of
power that would have blown me into flaming dust.  Maybe for him to turn
around and abandon me forever.

     Jahara straightened up, and shook his head.

     "You will learn."

     We left Genkaris the next day, and he never mentioned it again.  A
few weeks later one of the corporate giants that ruled the place imposed
trade sanctions on one of its rivals through military force.  One
incident led to another.  Within three days, a strategic exchange of
anti-matter weapons killed ninety-five percent of the population and
left the remainder to starve in the radioactive wasteland.

     I realized, afterwards, that he was right.  What could he have
done?  There was no-one on that planet capable of defeating him in
battle, but what did that matter?  Short of slaughtering the military
forces of the entire civilization, no action he could have taken would
have made a difference.

      *We are the avatars of destruction.*  I raised my head, returning
to the present, detachment gone.  I must have lain there for a long
time; the tears had already dried in trail on my cheeks.  I took a deep
breath and knew that I wasn't the avatar of anything, neither god nor
guardian.  Just Hotaru, alone in a universe that I didn't understand and
that didn't care about me, one way or the other.

     And I had to find my friends.

 

     "Is someone there?"

     I was back on my feet without realizing it, spinning to face the
voice that echoed through the darkness before I realized who it was, who
it had to be.

     "H...hello?"  I called out hesitantly, not sure who else might be
listening.

     "Oh gods."  I heard footsteps, from outside the little square of
light that came down from above, and a familiar figure stumbled up to me
and wrapped her arms around me before I could even drop my fighting
stance.  "Hotaru.  I thought it was you."

     "Michiru..."  I hugged her back, as hard as I could.  Human contact
felt so good it was an eternity before I could even think of letting go.
Finally she pulled back, taking as good a look at me as she could get in
the half-light.

     "You look different."

     I shrugged.  "Taller, at least.  It's been three years."

     "I know."

     Michiru looked much the same, surprisingly.  I was relieved -- I'd
expected much worse, given what Haruka seemed to have become.  But
Michiru looked okay.  The same blue-green hair, disheveled and tied back
out of the way with a scrap of string, the same kindly eyes.  She had a
long scar stretching from her throat down to her collarbone, but it was
faded and barely noticeable.  

     "So she threw you down here?"

     I nodded.  "I asked to see you, but I didn't know she had you in a
dungeon.  I think she thought it was funny."

     Michiru closed her eyes.  "You have no idea how much I've missed
you."

     A lump was starting to form in my throat.  "Me, too."

     "But for you to end up *here*, of all places..."  She sighed.
"What a joke."

     "Michiru, can I ask you a question?"

     She looked down at me and nodded.  "Go ahead."

     "What the *hell* is going on?"

     

     This was a little while in telling.  I sat on the basement floor,
barely feeling it, as Neptune sketched out the story of what happened
since I'd left.  The invasion, the occupation, and the creation of the
lawless Null Zone.

     "And these people, the Sa'an or whatever, they just don't *care*
that people go around killing each other?"

     "They don't seem to care about much of anything.  They set up
protected areas, outside the Null Zone, so that people who cooperate
with them would have a safe place to live.  And their troopships come
down whenever they want and take whoever they feel like.  But aside from
that, all they bother to do is distribute drugs and food."

     "Drugs?  Like medicine?"

     "Sure.  They've got a panacea drug -- one shot and you'll never get
sick again.  Can't do anything about heart disease, of course, or
cancer, but they've cured every infectious agent in the world."

     "That doesn't sound so bad."

     "That isn't the half of it.  They distribute other drugs, too.  The
people in the zone call them One, Two, and Three, since that's how the
little pills are numbered."

     "These other drugs are..."

     "Narcotic, hallucinogenic, and fatal respectively.  Although street
lore says Three gives you the greatest high in the world before you
die."     

     "Oh."  I put one hand over my mouth, mechanically.  "But you said
they feed people?  Why do all this?"

     "Livestock."

     "What?"

     "That's what we are to them.  Livestock.  You keep your animals
healthy, and you shoot them full of happy juice so they don't cause
trouble.  They're doing it to us."

     "That's horrible."

     Michiru sat down beside me, heavily.  "Yes."

     We sat in silence for a few moments, not even looking at one
another but staring into the darkness.

     "So what happened to her?"

     Michiru closed her eyes, and for a moment I thought she wasn't
going to say anything.  "Makoto."

     "What about her?"

     "Makoto happened to her."  Neptune kept her eyes closed.  "Jupiter
is working for them."

     The Traitor, Haruka had said.  My voice was a whisper.  "That's not
possible."

     "I saw it myself."

     "She must be..."  I shook my head.  "Possessed, or dominated, or
something.  It can't be her fault."

     "Probably not.  But that doesn't leave us any better off, does it?"

     Another pause.  I leaned against Michiru's shoulder, wearily, and
she slipped an arm across my back and smiled faintly.

     "Hotaru.  I didn't think we'd ever see you again."

     "I was going to come back sooner, but...I don't know.  Stuff kept
happening."

     "It frequently does."

     "Michiru?"

     "What?"

     "How long have you been down here?"

     "Since Haruka fought Makoto.  A couple of months, I'd guess."

     "A couple of *months*?"

     "Sometimes she brings me up.  She has strange moods."

     "I noticed.  But months -- Michiru, we need to get out of here."

     "Why?"

     "To find everyone!"

     "Hotaru..."  Her arm gripped me a little tighter.  "There's nowhere
else to go, believe me."

     "W...what?"

     "We're all that's left.  Me and Haruka, and you."

     I felt winded, as though someone had punched me in the chest, and
my voice was barely a gasp.  "T...th..."

     "It's been two years since they landed.  Two years of fighting
things we were never meant to fight -- robots and lasers and starships.
We just..."  She stopped, leaving me in silence.

     I'd just always assumed they'd be there.  My friends.  My family,
practically.  While I'd been fighting with them, I'd wondered at times
what it would be like if we lost.  But I'd always pictured a heroic last
stand of sorts.  Someone bravely sacrifices their life for someone else.
Saving the world.  Not this.    

 


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