A Year and Change - Part 9

A Year and Change - Part 9

A Sailor Moon fan fiction by Thomas Sewell (sewell_thomas@hotmail.com)

...... Thought quotation


Chapter 27: The Bomb


A table had appeared, and a pretty young waitress with red hair and green eyes. She spoke in a language Nagy did not understand--Japanese? And yet he did understand . . .

"Who is your friend, Usagi-kun? Did he come from a costume ball?"

"He is a soldier, Furuhata-san. A soldier from far away." The woman was a girl again, in the sailor-cut school uniform.

"He is so handsome. Mamoru will be jealous, Usagi-kun. Shame on you!" The giggling waitress set down colored fountain drinks of some kind, and vanished.

The girl in the wheelchair began to cry again.


Kensington, CA
12:28 pm PDT

Natividad Carnera looked into the room with the floating angel, where a red-haired woman in gray robes chanted in an unknown tongue, and made strange gestures, and wielded strange fetishes, while two other women next to her spoke another language to each other that Natividad did not understand. One of the older children came up and said something in English, a language she did understand, although she didn't understand all the words of: "Grandma, Taggy's locked herself in the can again. You wanna see if you can talk her out?"

Natividad left herself to check on Luis, who hadn't said or done much of anything since they had come here. That brought her back to the woman who had left with the child. She was taller and better looking than the woman in the gray robes, though she was older, but there was a resemblence--and a quite striking one with the slang-speaking child, who looked about the same age as Titania. The grandmother was trying to talk the child out of the bathroom, which happened to be the only one that Luis knew of, so he was also waiting outside.

Natividad led her husband to another bathroom. When she returned, the woman in the robes was talking through the door, again in a language Natividad did not understand, but then in English as well. The child on the other side of the door emerged, and that crisis ended.

Natividad approached the grandmother and asked, "Could you tell me what is really going on here? I don't understand. You must have known their secrets for many years . . . I am Natividad Carnera. And you?"

"Osaka Nagako--Nagako is my personal name. You are Adrienne's grandmother?"

"Yes."

"You have a wonderful grandchild. My granddaughter Maia tells me much of her. They are the same age. And they both enjoy art."

"Maia, yes, I remember. Adrienne wrote of her. I'm afraid I don't know exactly who she is yet . . . But she is one of the angels too? I saw a red-haired girl of Adrienne's age with wings." Natividad glanced down the walkaround. "And I saw her, too, the one who came to you."

"Alcyone," the woman carefully pronounced. "Arukiionu in Japanese, but we call her Ara-chan, and she calls herself 'Al.' She is very American, that one." The woman sighed. "I have only my Naru-chan, but she has nine children. So I have eight granddaughters and one grandson. With the children of the senshi here, there is quite a crowd."

"Senshi?"

"Bishoujo senshi," said the woman. "That is what they are called in Japan. 'Pretty young girl soldiers.' They are not so young now, but they are still called that . . . and they really are soldiers. They fought great battles, I am told. I knew none of it until years later." She shook her head. "Naru-chan can work magic, but she did not learn until after the great battles. She is not a bishoujo senshi, but all of her children are or will be. Even the boy, although I suppose he will not be bishoujo--though that can happen, too."

"I don't really understand . . . Can you tell me what is going on right now?"

"I don't know all of it. But what I do know is that Chiba-san is in grave trouble. She is the leader of the bishoujo senshi and my daughter's oldest friend. The other grown senshi are in Washington. I don't know what they can do there, since the terrorists have threatened to kill the rest of the hostages and set off their bomb if the senshi attack again. But if there is more fighting, they will be in it. I think I can guarantee that."

"More fighting means that Roland will be killed," said Natividad Carnera. "And maybe Haruka and Michiru? I saw that some of them were wounded. One of them looked crippled. The one that wept so long."

"Yes," said the woman. "They can be harmed. Even killed. Especially if the terrorists really do have a bomb. Minako said so, and she is very smart about such things--you wouldn't imagine, but she is, even when she isn't in her senshi form . . . the friends of my grandchildren, they could all be orphans like poor Lily-chan before this is over." She glanced around. "Don't speak of this in front of the children, please?"

Natividad Carnera sighed. "I hope Roland had the good sense to update his will. We are supposed to get the children, but . . . who would get the children of Haruka and Michiru if . . ."

The woman shook her head slowly as she spoke. "Haruka is estranged from her family, but they are very important in Japan. Haruka had a brother, much older, but he died and then his son died, so Titania and Hecate would be the heirs . . . Michiru's parents are a mystery, even to me. Someone sponsored her when she was growing up in Japan, but she doesn't know or won't say who."


Finished with her crying at last, the girl said once more, "Why did you do this thing, Nagy-san?" She was in a different uniform now, and closer to being a woman. "Why did you do this thing for Fazi?"

This time the words somehow compelled Nagy to answer. "He offered us more money than for any other job. And this was a chance to do something that mattered. The United States has lorded it over the rest of us for too long. It was time to give this country a slap in the face. You are Japanese. You must understand."

"I have made myself an American," said the woman. "But I do understand. Why did you trust Fazi so much?"

"He was our employer. As Kipling wrote, a mercenary soldier must be true to his salt. We have worked for worse men."

"Why did Fazi not tell you of the threats he was making? Why did he not tell you of the plutonium sample to make my government believe those threats?"

Nagy replied, "I don't know. Sultan was a very secretive man."

"He was very sure of himself, like his job was already finished, only a little while after your people got him inside the White House," the young woman said, "Fazi asked that our government keep his threats secret. I think maybe he wanted to keep that a secret from you and your people, too. Why would he want to do that? Could it have something to do with that 'special equipment' he would never tell you about?"

"The special 'equipment'--" The "special equipment.


Building E
New Executive Compound
Washington, DC

3:57 pm EDT

"Ingenious design," said nuclear weapons specialist admiringly, "And quite bad news for us, I am afraid."

"How bad?" asked General Thysson.

"It should have a yield of five to ten megatons. Enough to destroy the entire District--and the Pentagon as well. Seems to be based on a late Soviet design that was never put into series production . . . Kurchatov's work."

"And booby-trapped six ways from Sunday," said Captain Neuhaus, head of the NYPD Bomb Squad and considered the best in the country. "And that's just what I think I can see. It's got motion sensors, at least two capacitance triggers . . . most of the wires could be triggers, too, there's way too many . . . wish I'd had you last week, little lady . . . "

"Can you disarm it?" asked Colonel Gage, the Delta Force commander.

"Maybe. I wouldn't bet your life on it. If we try to move it, it will probably go off. If a grenade or something goes off near it, it will go off. If someone kicks it, hits it, something falls on it, it will go off . . . and it has timers. Some of them are probably lures, but I bet at least two of them are active . . . Hey, what's happening?"

"She can't go on," snapped the strawberry blond Death Angel, catching the lolling girl, and six-eight Thysson backed away from the diminutive Destroyer before he thought.

The woman who had been making the "link" said, "This can be very draining for someone not accustomed to it. The Second Moon has never linked before."

"I believe you, Ma'am," said Neuhaus, staggering a bit as he rose from his knees. He had been kneeling at the left of the three-eyed girl angel. Then he said, "You two were the ones in that French video, weren't you?"

Chibi Moon did not answer that question, but Sailor Venus had another. "First Moon, do you think you can destroy it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Neuhaus.

Chibi Moon said, "I have a powerful attack . . . but I'm not sure I could destroy the bomb quickly enough. Sometimes I can phase it in and out but . . . I don't think so. Probably some pieces would hit the bomb before I could blast through and get a clear shot. If I did blast it, it wouldn't just go away . . . it's radioactive, isn't it?"

"Yes," said the nuclear specialist, "And poisonous, too. Still, better than having it detonate. If you can damage it, you may prevent it from detonating, or make the detonation only a partial one . . . exactly what is your attack like?"

"It most closely resembles a particle beam weapon," said Sailor Venus, "And my long range attack is like a laser. It is more precise but not as powerful. One of the senshi has electromagnetic powers. Would a powerful electric shock destroy the electronics and disarm it? Perhaps a magnetic field?"

"Most likely either one would set it off," said the Captain, settling into a chair rather heavily.

The nuclear expert said, "It could prevent a nuclear detonation . . . but I can't guarantee it. The nuclear device itself is clearly designed as a ballistic missile warhead. Very rugged design to survive re-entry." As he spoke, the nuclear expert went to the window and began to open the blinds--and he found himself suddenly on the floor as Venus' chain jerked his feet out from under him. "What? Why did you--"

"If the enemy sees us they may set off the bomb!," said Sailor Venus, "Or they may execute hostages to retaliate!"

"She's right," said General Thysson, closing the minute opening in the blinds the expert had made.

"And they have a man on the roof with a fifty caliber rifle," said Colonel Gage. "He's got nothing much to do but watch the windows here. I think maybe the lady kept you from growing a couple of new assholes."

The expert picked himself up slowly, glowering but saying nothing.

General Thysson said, "Thank you for your help, ah--"

"Seerabinessu," said Venus. "Sailor Venus."

"Well . . . Thank you, Sailor Venus. It looks like they have us by the ears here. Maybe a combined operation with Colonel--"

"There is something else we can do," interrupted Sailor Venus, the ghost of the last General of the Moon Kingdom very apparent in her commanding voice. "But first--First Moon!"

"Hai."

"You will return the Second Moon to base and remain there. You will be under the orders of the base commander."

"But Auntie--" Chibi Moon started to protest--and then she glanced down at Kimi Moon, and said, "Hai."

"Wait, First Moon. Sensei, Greymage, return with the First Moon."

"Why must I return?" protested Naru in the Old Tongue. "I can--"

Sailor Venus answered in the Old Tongue. "You are in pointless danger here. Perhaps you can help get Sailor Moon back. Go back with the First Moon."

Thysson watched as the two "ordinary" women huddled close to the two angels and then vanished with them, even as the President had appeared with them and the other angels--the senshi--in the Pentagon's inner courtyard not much more than an hour before. I wonder when the Klingons will show up . . . thought Thysson. But it was real. He turned back to the blond one, the leader, and asked, "Just exactly what else can you do?"

"We can combine our powers for an attack," said Sailor Venus. "This should be powerful enough to destroy the bomb very quickly."

Colonel Gage spoke up. "If you're sure you can do it, what's the problem? Why didn't you tell us before?"

"The attack will also destroy the White House," said Sailor Venus.

And kill everyone in it, General Thysson added in his mind. "What's this attack like?"

"Something like the beam from Independence Day," said Saturn, who had seen that a lot along with other old movies waiting for Rhea to come.

"We don't use it much," coughed Mars. "It usually takes too long to set up in a fight."

"And it does much damage," said Pluto. "The last time it was used--"

Sailor Venus cut her off. "It is very powerful, at least the equivalent of an attack by several warplanes, but concentrated on a small area--a few meters across."

Sailor Mercury added, "Now that we know exactly where the bomb is, I can aim our attack using my sensor. It will not miss."

General Thysson turned to sulking nuclear expert. "Would something like that be enough?"

"As the good Captain here said," the expert said sharply, "I wouldn't bet my life on it."


The possible nuclear weapon in the White House was the biggest secret in the USA since the Manhattan Project, but it began to leak almost immediately. Slowly, at first . . . the inevitable calls to loved ones, friends, just this one exception . . . and the first echelon to get The Word were mostly security-minded themselves . . . but they had their own exceptions, of course, and The Word spread to a second echelon, a little distorted, of course. So it proceeded, each new generation of The Word gaining new permutations. It was slowed by a remarkably convenient breakdown in the local phone system--a breakdown which certain federal agencies seemed exempted from. But The Word spread and mutated, and by the time General Thysson informed the President how real and how serious the situation was, The Word had reached His Honor Winston Claybourne, Mayor of the District of Columbia, in versions from the third generation through the seventh. And, of course, it had reached the press, too. So when the "fighters" as their spokesman called them--spokeswoman now, according to word from the DC police, which still had a hand in the negotiations--made their latest "generous" gesture by releasing their remaining African-American prisoners, the mayor found himself fielding more questions about the bomb threat rumors instead of more about the ordeal of the hostages or even the mysterious battle of the night before . . .


4:56 pm EDT

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," Winston Claybourne said, "If I may use an old-fashioned courtesy . . . These rumors are just that, rumors. If there was anything to them, my office would have been informed long ago. Now, just a moment before any more questions," he said, holding out both hands like a traffic cop ordering a halt. "I've been hearing the same crazy rumors that the people in control of the White House now have nerve gas or ebola germs or even atomic bombs. But stop and think, all of you. Those rumors just don't make sense. The people we are dealing with here are not stupid. If they really had tons and tons of poison gas, or barrels and barrels of some deadly disease culture, or atomic bombs, they wouldn't need to risk their lives to take over the White House. This talk has some people packing everything into their cars and heading out of town. But it is just talk, just fool talk, and I'm telling all of you citizens out there not to listen to it. We've got the biggest storm coming to these parts in a good long while, and any of you folks without an important job to do now should be home getting ready for it, not out on the roads having accidents and gettin' cold and wet and hungry and maybe lost and out of gas somewhere for nothing but some fool talk. Now, that's all I'm gonna say about that, so don't ask me any more about it, you'd just be wasting your time and mine."

When the press conference was over, the White House Press Secretary extended a hand to the Mayor. "You made very timely remarks, Your Honor. Exactly what we need right now."

The Mayor responded cordially to those remarks. He said nothing at all about getting his own family out of town, which he had arranged about two hours earlier. Clayborne was far outside the the White House loop, but he had a good nose for rumor, and he smelled some truth underneath the stories that were still spreading.


6:21 pm EDT

Charles Sumpter waited until his debriefers had seemed finished with their questions before asking his own. It was not a long wait; his story was simple. After being taken away from the East Room, he was put with the other African American men in a small basement room. There he had been literally in the dark most of the time. One of their number was a Muslim who understood enough Arabic to catch that their captors talked about "djinn." But that was the only inkling Sumpter had that what they had meant was an Angel Incident. "Do you mean to tell me this Angel stuff is real?"

"Bishoujo senshi," said Major Vierhofen, someone Sumpter had never met but who seemed to know Ballin and the Acting Director quite well now. "That's what the Japanese call them."

Kerkorian said, "You've answered all our questions well enough, Mr. Sumpter, but I'm wondering . . . Do you think you remember everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"There are reports of memory lapses," said Vierhofen a little too quickly. "Have you had anything like that?"

Sumpter was about to say he didn't, but then--"Yes. I did have something like that. It was a few hours before the takeover."

"Was anyone with you?" asked the the Acting Director--the Acting Director of the FBI was asking him.

"I was with Ms. Jones, the woman you told us about at the briefing. And Mrs. Chiba. She was the only guest in a wheelchair. Also a guard, Officer Jardin, she was there." Sumpter paused. "I didn't see Officer Jardin after the takeover. Is she--"

"I'm afraid she was one of the casualties," said Vierhofen.

Sumpter forgot about Mrs. Chiba, thinking about Jardin and her two children. None of his debriefers cared to remind him about her.


7:00 pm EDT

Walter Rostov began speaking to the President and a small group that did not come close to filling all the chairs around the conference table. "Project Galatine was set up at the NSA because, I'm sure you all know, the monitoring of sensitive technologies has been a National Security Agency responsibity since the passage of the Church-Huong act of 1975. The original intent was to investigate and if possibly acquire technologies developed by the many secret programs established by the Soviet Union, and prevent their acquisition by non-friendly nations or organizations."

"Galatine began to acquire material on the so-called magic girl incidents in Japan two years after the collapse of the former Soviet Union. There were also incidents in Britain, but we did not directly investigate them until several years later. The reason we investigated was that there were certain indicators that the "magic girl" incidents, at least some of them, involved the use of energy weapons."

"Our investigations eventually covered a good bit of the world. Our investigations show fairly convincing evidence for some magic-girl incidents in Germany, Italy, Greece, Australia, Botswana, South Africa, Mexico, and several Caribbean nations, as well as the US. There were particularly interesting incidents reported in Los Angeles and the Chicago area--very strange, Chicago. But we found nothing conclusive. The incidents peaked about nine years ago, and then rapidly tapered off. Interestingly, they dropped about two years earlier in Japan, where the phenomenon began."

"We were seldom able to investigate these incidents directly, so we had to rely for the most part on cooperation with other agencies, Central Intelligence, the Bureau, and a few trusted overseas sources. While the total amount of evidence we gathered was impressive, we did not get compelling evidence for any single incident."

"The reports of angels began in California a little over ten years ago, but the first credible angel incident was in Michigan seven years ago. It involved Xavier Goudan, the so-called cabin killer. Once we had that connection, we looked at Bureau records and discovered a statistical correlation between the occurance of angel incidents and the abrupt end of the careers of some suspected serial killers."

"The Lake Merritt incident changed the direction of the Galatine investigation. The evidence seemed indisputable that at least some of the so-called angel girl incidents were authentic, and did not involve weapons of any sort we expected."

"Our attempts to more closely investigate the parties involved were blocked. As you are aware, Minako Jones is the stepdaughter of D. A. Alvarson, head of the Grey Group. We--"

"You are not in the Agency any more, Mr. Rostov," said the National Security Advisor with irritation. "Please, speak for yourself."

"Very well. I believe Alvarson exerted pressure to quash the investigation. Nevertheless, certain colleagues and I managed to continue the investigation on a low level. We did manage do assemble statistical evidence that makes a connection between Ms. Jones and her friends and the angel incidents almost certain. That is what I was attempting to tell you, Madame President, the last time we met. I presume," Rostov said, "You have altered your opinions as to the plausibility of these so-called angels."

The President smiled, totally inappropriately. She said, "Go on. The Acting Director of the Bureau informs me that this investigation of yours continued even after Dr. Threlkeld took over the Agency. Much to the surprise of Dr. Threlkeld."

"Yes, Madame President," said Rostov. "The late Director Halinan cooperated to do this. He said he had found something important, just before he died. I'm afraid I do not know what it was. I was instrumental in setting up this unnofficial continuation of the Galatine investigation, but I have not intervened in NSA affairs in any way since I left the agency."

Rostov looked around the table, sizing up people. The President he could not read, but the Acting Director was another matter. "Ms. Kerkorian, I presume you do know what my late friend discovered. May I ask what it was?"

The President spoke. "No, I'm afraid you may not, Mr. Rostov. Galatine is Top Secret and will remain so. You may go now."


The pretty red-headed waitress reappeared with more drinks. "Usagi-kun, aren't you afraid Rei-kun will catch you and tell Mamoru?"

"No, Unazuki," said the girl--perhaps a bit older now. She was dressed in a simple formal now.

"You have changed again," Nagy said after the waitress vanished again. "You are taller, too."

The girl said, "Yes . . . This is the dress I wore for my first dance with Jimmy-chan. Also for the first time he kissed me . . . I was always a little taller than Jimmy-chan. It was worse for him in these high heels." She sipped her drink.

"Who is the waitress?"

"She was Furuhata Unazuki. I do not think it is not really her, Nagy-san. She is as I most remember her, working at Fruit Parlor Crown. I think she must have had some talent like Naru-chan because so many of our old enemies sought her out." The girl sipped her drink again. "She married a famous sumo wrestler, an American from Hawaii. They had a little girl, but the marriage didn't work out and they divorced quickly. He had a drinking problem. He killed himself driving drunk just a few months later. And after that . . . "

The girl took another sip. "After that Unazuki wanted to get far away, so she took a job in the United Nations in New York as an interpreter. She stopped by my house to visit on her way there, but I was away. When I got back, she was dead. A boy stabbed her because he was angry that she did not have enough money on her when he robbed Unazuki. He was only thirteen."

She sipped again, but now she was the Death Angel. "He will be eligible for parole next year. We shall see then." Another sip. "After all that, a boy with a knife ended her life. Motoki and Reika are raising her daughter." She finished the drink.

Furuhata Unazuki, forever seventeen, appeared to serve another.


Kensington, CA
4:55 pm PDT

Lorraine Nussbaum Tiggs was in the kitchen preparing some formula for Persephone when Sarah Uer appeared in--literally, with a shopping cart overflowing with groceries. Mrs. Umino's older girls didn't blink an eye; they simply started helping unload the cart.

Lorraine said, "This is what you were doing before, when you visited, isn't it?"

Sarah replied, "Yes. This is the first thing I learned to do. It's kind of a long walk to the market and everyone is getting hungry. I can't drive yet, you know."

"I could have driven you."

"I guess so . . . I didn't think to ask you. Don't tell my mom about it, will you?

No one was going to tell her mother anything now . . . Sarah's mother was the floating lady, the one that looked like an Angel of Death. And so had Sarah, when they had come here.

Marty must have known.

Lorraine noticed Sarah give her a funny look, but neither of them said anything about it.

A few minutes later, Lorraine glanced up at the forgotten kitchen TV and saw that the President was speaking . . .


8:00 pm EDT

"Good evening, America," said the President to millions of citizens. "As you know, an unidentified group seized control of the White House two nights ago and, despite a rescue attempt that freed myself and a number of hostages, this group is still in possession of the Executive Mansion and at least some living hostages."

"It has long been the policy of this nation to refuse to give in to the demands of hostage takers. This is a policy I have continued to support. However, in this case, the issue is more than the hostages still being held in the White House. Because of this, I have ordered the Federal agencies concerned to accede to the demands of this group as well as we can."

"All prisoners held in Federal facilities will be released forthwith with full pardons. I have requested the cooperation of the several governors of States where prisoners on the list are being held in State prisons. I have asked the governments of France, Japan, and Israel to release the remaining prisoners."

"An aircraft will be provided to evacuate the group. Loaded aboard will be the payment that was specified in the demands as released yesterday."

"Let me speak directly to the group holding the White House. I know at least one of you is listening and understands me."

"You have succeeded. We are granting you everything in our power out of the demands your leader sent out yesterday. You will be allowed to leave this country and proceed to whatever safe haven you have prepared, and you will not be pursued. This will happen provided you do two things: That you release your remaining hostages, and that you disarm your device and leave it also."

"Some hours ago the Mayor of the District Columbia spoke what seemed good sense. The worst storm in many years seems about to hit Washington, and it is a very poor time to be out on the road. However, since word keeps spreading of the threats the people holding the White House may have made, many of you are leaving the District, and more are thinking of leaving."

"My advice is as the Mayor's: stay where you are. Fleeing our Capitol is still more likely to bring you to harm than staying here. However, certain key members of the government have left the Capitol, including the Vice President. I myself will remain here at the Pentagon until the resolution of this crisis, but I have taken steps to ensure that our government will continue without disruption regardless of its outcome."

"The reason for this selective evacuation is this: The hostage-takers have made an additional threat, to set of a nuclear device in an American city. They made this threat with the proviso that it not be publicized. But since the word keeps spreading and spreading, as people who know of the evacuation act on their own to inform their friends and loved ones, this demand is moot."

"We have acquired intelligence that the people holding the White House are in possession of a genuine nuclear device. I am informed by Civil Defense that a general evacuation is not advisable, given the approach of Hurricane Bartlett. The best estimate is that it would take 48 hours to evacuate the city and the surrounding area in perfect weather. Since the deadline our opponents have set is only 20 hours away, a general evacuation does not offer much hope."

"However, this country is a democracy, and its citizens have a right to make informed decisions of their own. I hope most of you in and around our nation's Capitol will decide to stay home and prepare to weather these two crises, the storm and the threat. But it is your own decision to make. I have ordered that our armed forces allow people to proceed out of the area as long as they do not block vital routes in and out of the Capitol."

"Now I am going to address the people who made this threat again. Because of the storm, normal air travel from the area will be impossible tonight and probably all of tomorrow. Ground transportation should be reasonably safe by noon. The aircraft we are providing you will be flying to an airport far enough north to be out of the storm track, and if you leave at noon tomorrow, you should be able to reach it before dark."

"If you set off your device, the United States of America well spare no expense and no resource seeking out the people who sponsored your attack. If you are, in fact, acting for a national government, that nation will find itself at war with the United States of America. Think long and hard about that."


Someone new stepped out of the shadows, not the girl serving drinks. Her hair was the gray of platinum, her eyes gunmetal. Her gown was gray, with intricate designs and symbols picked out in fine colored thread. She wore a grey babushka of the same color, and similar decoration. She wore a necklace made of small bones. She carried a long staff, silver, with a silver replica of a human skull set at the top. From under the babushka, on each side of her head, sprays of feathers protruded, concealing most of her ears.

"Grey Lady," said Nagy's companion in this place, now very ordinary in shirt and jeans, "How are you here?"

"This place is in my provenance, child," answered the woman of gray. "But not yet yours. You cannot remain here safely." The woman turned her gaze on Nagy. "And who are you?"

"I am Colonel Istvan Nagy," he replied. "And you?"

"Dr. Goodman will do. You will not have heard of me," said the woman, "But your people know of my mother. You have gypsy blood."

"Do you read minds like this one?"

"No," said the woman, "But there is no mistaking the aura of a true gypsy, not by any who know the Arts." She tapped her staff on the limitless floor, made gestures, spoke words that meant nothing to Nagy and yet . . .

The woman announced, "You are bound. Bound to one another, and bound to a task. You cannot leave here until that task is completed."

"A task?" asked Nagy "What?"

"That," said the woman of gray, "I do not know yet. Sailor Moon, how did you use the ginzuishou?"

"I have not used it," Nagy's companion replied, now a lovely nude angel with a jewel set at the base of her throat.

"It has been used recently," said the woman of gray. "Tell me what has happened. I have not been to your world; I came when I noticed you were here."


Chapter 28: The Storm


The Grey Lady worked more of her magic, including some words and gestures Sailor Moon half-remembered Naru using, but faster, smoother. Then she sighed. "I have discovered your task. It was what you intended to do when you made the link. You have to find Fazi al Kaukji and find out from him about the bomb. You must have activated the ginzuishou unconsciously when you tried to find Fazi, and it brought you here and bound you to that task."

"What is this ginzuishou you keep speaking of?"

"Something that makes an h-bomb look like a firecracker," said the Grey Lady. She shook her head.

"Then we must look for him?" asked Sailor Moon, now in her rainbow-winged form.

"No. I told you that you don't belong here. If you stay much longer, your links to your lives will sever. You would never find Fazi in time, and you could easily get so lost I could not find you in time." The Grey Lady shook her head. "If only Fazi were Chinese. I am on very good terms with most of the important Magistrates of Ghosts. We will have to do something else."

She pulled two feathers from her hair, black ones, wincing as she did so. After more incantations and gestures, she tossed them into the air. They went up into the darkness . . .

And two more-than-man-sized things came down from the darkness, landing nimbly on their three-toed feet. They came to the Grey Lady, and bowed their heads to her. She reached out to pat the black-feathered, large-eyed creatures. Then she spoke an arcane command, and they bounded off into the darkness.

"What in the devil were those?" asked Nagy.

"Troodon Arteminski," said the Grey Lady. "They haven't been discovered by your people. Perhaps they did not evolve in your line."


White House
8:18 pm EDT

" . . . announcement, there are reports of new accidents along many of the main roads leading out of the Washington/Alexandria area . . ."

Like Sultan, Baiburs always seemed to have the television on, though he was not watching it as Maria Horthy stepped in to the Monroe Office. Baiburs was reading a book, and he did not look up from it. Sergeiev, now the second rank with Beriev gone, requested attention by bringing the butt of his assault rifle down on the antique desk, adding more distress to the wood.

Baiburs peered up over his half-frame reading glasses and said, "Is there something you wish to discuss?"

"Is it real?" demanded Horthy.

"The device? Yes, it is real." Baiburs closed his book and set it aside. "Fascinating. This is the journal of an English officer from two centuries ago. He was in the army that took this city and burned the public buildings. Later he fought in the revolutionary wars in South America, and eventually became one of Mehmet Ali's officers. Possibly he could be an ancestor of mine through my mother."

"We can discuss your family history some other time," said Horthy. "Why have you kept this secret from us? If you have a real bomb, why do you even need us?"

"We chose you to make certain we could bring the device here," said Baiburs. "And also to present a more international face to America and the world. You have performed both tasks well, and you will be rewarded."

"In heaven?" said Sergeiev.

"Perhaps, but I was speaking of the here and now," said Baiburs smoothly. "If the Americans or their djinn friends attack us again and threaten to overwhelm us, I will set off the device."

Horthy said, "We did not sign on for a glorious death."

Baiburs said, "I myself would very much like to live on, if I can do it and accomplish my mission."

"And what is your mission?" Horthy said.

"What it always was, too pull the teeth of the American monster," said Baiburs, betraying some real feeling, perhaps. "After this, they will think more carefully before they send in their cruise missiles and stealth bombers and their Rapid Deployment Force."

"You actually intend to set it off," said Horthy, perhaps as much to herself as Baiburs. "You would not have brought a working bomb if you were not sure you would use it. The Americans would never let you take it away with you."

Baiburs pulled off his reading glasses and put them carefully in their case. "I think I will be handling negotiations with the Americans personally from now on, Major."

Maria Horthy drew her pistol and put it to Baiburs' temple. He did not flinch, or resist. Instead he said, "We also anticipated this problem, Major. If you want to survive, put that weapon away."

Maria was already beginning to squeeze the trigger, but she eased off. "Just why do we need to worry about you? Your men are scum. Even if they would fight to avenge you, we would swat them down like so many flies."

"The device can be detonated by radio. There is a very dedicated man outside who calls me at random intervals. If he can't reach me, he will send the detonation signal. He almost did when the Commander was killed. It was a closer thing than you knew."

"You are lying," said Horthy.

"No, it is the truth," said Baiburs without a trace of disturbance. "There is also a timer on the device which is set to quite a short interval now. If I don't periodically enter a code--a different code each time, incidentally--the device will detonate at the end of the next interval. With the Commander gone, I am the only one who has memorized the codes to handle the device. There is no codebook, although there is a sham codebook for the Americans to find. It is, of course, a trap."

"Now if you assume," continued Baiburs, "That the device is a sham, or that my confederate will not or cannot detonate it, or that you can disarm it in time, there is one more thing to consider. If you look in my briefcase over there, you will find a folder sealed with green tape. I think you will find some interesting things in it. Particularly you, Major."


The Pentagon
Alexandria, Virginia
9:14 pm EDT

General Brinkman returned to the situation room bearing news. "They have a new man talking to the negotiators now. 'Second Commander Baiburs.' Whether or not he's the same as the 'Major Baiburs' the hostages talked about he won't say."

General Thysson said, "Internal dissension?"

Brinkman shrugged. "It's possible. Nothing bad enough to provoke gunfire, that we would have picked up. But the laser mikes are useless; have been since about seven, so we won't be picking up any more conversation; the windows are vibrating too much. Wind's up to thirty knots now, gusts up to sixty. Power's out in a lot of places now; the negotiators warned them about it."

"What are they saying now?" asked the President.

"They regret we have chosen to violate their terms once again, blah blah blah. After the propaganda line, though, Baiburs said that our proposal for a longer ground evacuation was quote 'of interest considering the circumstance of the storm' unquote. Whoever he is, he speaks a very polished English."

The President took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, eyes closed. "How bad is the situation on the roads."

Karol Tesla, the head of the Department of Defense, said, "Abysmal. All the major outlets from the District are now blocked. Considering the fallout pattern from a five to ten megaton groundburst which will be directed inland by the storm, these people are attempting a worse than futile action. As the good mayor warned, many are running out of gasoline already. We can expect dozens, perhaps hundreds of fatalities from exposure; thousands requiring medical care. The ones on foot, most of them seem to be ready to take shelter, at least according to the reports I've heard."

The President asked, "Is the panic getting worse?"

"I don't think so, Madame President," said Tesla. "The real panickers, they have already gone. The ones that are prudent enough to make some preparations, I think they largely see that it is pointless to flee now. At least if they are watching television or listening to radio news reports. We have been using the Emergency Broadcast System to frequently update the situation in case the commercial stations miss something."

"Thank you," said the President. "General Thysson, that long look on your face indicates to me that you want to say something. What is it?"

"Madame President," said the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, "I think you should consider the option I spoke to you about. The terrorists seem to be unstable. Another change in leadership might put someone in charge who wants to detonate their device. And if we act now, at least some of the people out there may be able to return home before the storm makes it impossible."

"But there is still the chance that option could set off the bomb, isn't there, General?"

"Madame President," said General Thysson, "I think that if the device is real, the terrorist leadership plan to set it off no matter what we do."

"That doesn't fit the profile for Nagy, the man who led the takeover," said Buonnarti, the CIA Director. "Not unless he's had some sort of conversion. He's been a strictly bottom-line merc. He's done some high-risk stuff, but deliberate suicide? No."

Glancing at the President, General Thysson said, "It is quite possible Colonel Nagy and his troops were not briefed about the device. At any rate, Colonel Nagy doesn't seem to be in charge now."

"I still say their so-called device is a hoax," said Pfinney, the Secretary of Energy--among his responsiblities was the design, production, and maintenance of the U.S. nuclear aresenal. "If they had a working thermonuclear weapon, they could have just parked it somewhere in town. And anyway, this isn't the best target. Why not one of our power reactors? Much easier targets, and much more lasting damage."

"I agree," said Tesla. "This whole operation seems like a crackpot scheme. Still, Dr. Contini was very convincing. He describes a working design for a weapon. And with the elaborate system of traps, clearly they foresaw us attempting to disarm it."

"Maybe they figure it will take us long enough trying to disarm it that we won't know it's a fake until after they get away," suggested Pfinney. "We won't be able to make a detailed analysis of the device until it is disarmed."

"Or we set it off trying to disarm it," said Thysson. "Mr. Buonnarti, assuming the device is real, how would you view the terrorists."

"If it's real," said Buonnarti, "Then they ain't terrorists. Pony nukes are one thing, but a thermonuclear weapon is not something you can build in someone's garage." Buonnarti grew thoughtful. "If it is real . . . This scheme of theirs does make some sense. The real backers, they can just say these people were madmen, nothing to do with them. Al Kaukji gives us a link to Iraq, but he's worked with others. He's deniable."

Pfinney protested, "This overblown scheme of theirs may have worked somehow, but how can you say it makes sense?" He tapped his old West Point ring on the table. "I'm not ignorant of basic strategy, you know."

"Yes," said Tesla, "The plan of the terrorists seems totally irrational to me if they possess a real weapon."

"As a military operation, I'm sure it is nonsense," said Buonnarti. "But politically, it isn't. So far the enemy has managed to portray themselves fairly well, worldwide. Kaukji did a good job of denying responsibility for the brutality against the hostages. Their demands have been realistic, and they have shown forebearance--no hostage executions they admit to. They've claimed all the hostage fatilities were caused by our actions."

"Nonsense," said Thysson. "None of the so-called senshi use firearms. Our forces didn't fire a shot."

"I'm not accusing you, General," said Buonnarti. "They are lying. But their lie is being broadcast and printed now, and a lot of people will believe it--even here."

"Do you have any special point to your speculations, Director Buonnarti?" asked the President.

"Yes, Madame President," said Buonnarti. "If the weapon is real, the backers intend to use it. If possible, they will have some way to control the weapon that is beyond the control of their people inside the White House. We may gain more time by cooperating with them now, but now my advice is the same as General Thysson's. I take it this option involves our new friends?"

All eyes were on the President. At length, she said, "Your advice is well-taken. But I am going to wait, for now. We may have other options later."


Major Vierhofen asked Seerabesu, "What language are they speaking?"

"It is the Old Tongue--" Besu started to explain, before Sere cut her off.

"It is the old language of the North," said Sere. "Very few can still speak it. Most Northerners speak only Japanese. The ones that still can speak it, most of them do not use it around strangers."

"Can you tell me what they are saying?" he asked Besu.

"No," said Sere.


"Uranus, Neptune, Saturn, you may assist with the rescue efforts," said Sailor Venus. "But first, you should help get Mars home. With the help of the Asatara, we have enough power to launch our Planet Attack if we need to."

Sailor Mars started to protest, but she bent over in a spasm. Sailor Jupiter caught her; she seemed to have lost her power to levitate for the moment. Mars grimaced, but she still got out her words. "If I go back and stay, Chibi Moon will find out what we are going to do. And we need all the power we can muster to do this thing. Mercury, am I right? The more power, the better chance we have to destroy the bomb before it goes off?"

"Yes," said Sailor Mercury. "But you should still return. You are getting worse. Your powers could fail during the attack."

Mars was not finished. "You don't want me to have my father's blood on my hands, Mina-chan. And it is the same for the others, is it not?"

Venus slowly nodded. Then she said, quietly, "Chibi Moon already knows. I felt her in my mind before she left. I think she also knows what we do not want to do. Do all of you agree with me?"

Saturn said, "The First Moon and the Second Moon must survive."

"This could all be a plan for the coming enemy to destroy them," said Neptune. "The enemy did not have to face the First and Second Moons in cycles before, did they, Pluto?"

"None that I have lived through," said Pluto, "Or heard of."

"I have spent years trying to divine the coming enemy," said Mars. "Can you tell us anything about them?"

"Nothing that would help," said Pluto. "The enemy has been different in each cycle, when there was an enemy to fight. Sometimes the cycle turns on what seems to be a natural disaster. Sometimes it is a great war among the world's nations. The only common things about the cycles are the Time Gate and the Moon Princess and the Earth Prince beginning the new dynasty. Even the world-freezing has not happened in all cycles."

Jupiter said, "That is more than you have told us all your life, Sailor Pluto."

Sailor Venus broke the silence that followed by saying, "Very well. Mars, you will go back. We can take turns doing rescue work except for Mercury--I am sorry, but we will need you here to target the attack if we have to launch it."

Mars coughed and spit out a little bloody froth, betraying her now-punctured lung. "There is one more thing I should do here. If the bomb detonates, probably none of you here will survive and everyone in the White House will be killed. I want you to write out holograph wills. I will take them with me."


Old Hino-san said, "I thought Heaven would smell better."

That provoked choked laughter in the Ambassador, but no one else in the room. Hino had made the joke to stop the Minister from going on again about his heroism. Saburo Hino was embarrassed, and he was glad of the dark, so people could not see his face.

The fact was: he had seen the grenade, fallen on it, and thought about it only much later. If he had to do it over, he would have kicked the thing away--perhaps. It had all been reflex. The thing was a dud, anyway, like the other one he hadn't seen until later. The gods were in the mood to play a joke.

It was also reflex that he had filled his pants, and the ablutions admistered by the Tsukino boy much later had been inadequate. Hino knew he had to be the source of most of the stink in the room.

The stench had had one good result, though. While Tsukino Shingo had been cleaning him, the smell had driven the guard from the room, so Tsukino had been able to whisper a little news. The women and children had been released. There was also something about senshi, soldiers, but the guard had returned before Tsukino could say more.

So, the Americans have tried to free us and have been driven off, mused Hino. Praiseworthy that they made the effort, but embarrassing that it failed. The brutes holding them were going to come out heros, even to some Japanese, the ones who saw the United States as the eternal antagonist. Not a large segment of the Japanese population held those opinions, but Hino knew that some of them, too many, held some of the real power in Japan.

The Americans are going to lose some of their fairweather friends in Japan, thought Hino. The already large faction favoring priority for better relations and more joint ventures with China would grow; the much smaller pro-Russian lobby would also pick up some influence. Still, nothing the Americans will really notice for a long time . . . China may be more stylish now, but America is the vital market. The only comparable one is the European Union, but they will never be as open to our trade as America is. The Kairetsu hold the balance of power, and the kairetsu exist to make money, so Japan will play the same game with the Americans as long as they are willing to play, no matter what some of their leaders really would like to do to the Americans . . .

But Deja-chan is really an American, thought old Hino, and it disturbed him mightily.


The full fury of Hurricane Bartlett fell along the Atlantic Coast of Virginia and Maryland; Washington, D.C. faced only a much-diminished storm. Still, the storm lingered long, with winds of at least forty knots between 10 pm and 6 am, and of mostly over fifty knots in most areas around the District between midnight and three. Gusts of up to one hundred knots were recorded.

For some people who had taken to the roads, help came. For a very few, it came on angels' wings. For most, help did not come. Around the hour of three in the District and around it, many lives ended in cold wet darkness.

At the hour of three in Washington DC, midnight turned in California, and in the room where Naru wove her spells trying to bring Usagi back, the antique clock struck out the hour in the style of the Westminster chimes. The final tolling of twelve long notes prompted Naru to stop, put her face in her hands and sob, because the chimes seemed to be not just ringing out an old day, but ringing out Usagi's life. Her art would not bring back any of them, not Usagi, not Gurio . . .

Naru uncovered her face and turned to the door. Chibi-usa was standing there.

"Chi-Sarah, it's quiet," said Naru, grabbing a very mundane tissue to dab her cheeks. "All the children must be asleep now. Maybe you should be, too. Whatever tomorrow brings, it will be a busy day. We'll need you."

Chibi-usa came closer. She took her mother's hand, and then she said, "What do you really think, Auntie Naru?"

Naru felt the unmistakeable touch of Chibi-usa in her mind, much less subtle than Usagi's. Nevertheless, she sounded out her answer. "Your mother's soul is elsewhere, and she is slowly losing her connection with this life. And you must not link with her; your soul would follow hers."

"If you can't do anything," said Chibi-usa, "Maybe I should use the ginzuishou."

"That is too dangerous," said Naru. "And even if it were not, I don't think you can now. The ginzuishou's aura shows it is active now, being used, somehow. It is so closely tied to your mother, I think if you try to take control, that will trap your soul, too."

Chibi-usa transformed to Chibi Moon and floated up so she could kiss her mother's unfeeling face. Then she asked, "Is there any hope? Any reason to hope?"

"The Grey Lady is helping somehow," said Naru. "I can tell it she is using her magic on your mother, wherever she really is. And I'm sure we will get other help."

"If Auntie Argent can't break the spell," said Chibi-usa, "The little man is the only one I know of who might."

"Our Founder cannot be everywhere at once," said a new voice from the door, "Or if he can, he has probably forgotten that spell, too."

"Theophilus!" said Naru.

"Madame Umino, Little Moon," said the bizarrely dressed newcomer, "I am here to offer my own small Art. Condolances on your loss, Madame. There may yet be time for me to--"

"No, Theophilus," said Naru. "Even if there were time."

"Very well," said the man, opening a smallish case. "I shall limit myself to my own poor Art."

Chibi Moon came down and detransformed. "You don't need to feed, do you?"

"If you are offering yourself, Little Moon," the man said, "I must decline. My intuition tells me your full strength may be needed. However, if you can arrange for a mundane friend to volunteer," he continued, assembling his clarinet, "Or more than one, it would be helpful. I may be your guest for some time." He completed the instrument by attaching the bell, which had a small silver skull set into the ebony, and made to play a few notes. No sound emerged, but he seemed satisfied.

Naru heard crying, probably Ikuko-chan again. Chibi-usa began to leave the room, but she turned back for a moment and said, "Where have you been that they dress like that?"

"Another place I cannot tell you of, Little Moon, unless you take the vows of the Company."


Except when the nightmares came, Sarah had the gift of her mother: the ability to fall asleep quickly whenever she wished. So, when she had Chibi Ikuko back down, she went to her room, the room she shared with Kimi and Ishi--the room between her mother's room, and Auntie Minako's room. Ishi was in her mother's bed, with Isi and Aki now. Kimi was alone in their room--and still awake.

"Where's Lily?" asked Sarah, sitting on Kimi's bed.

"She went with Meti-chan," said, "To keep her company."

"That is Lily," muttered Sarah. Then she said "Can't sleep? Are you afraid of a bad dream?"

"No," said Kimi. "I'm wondering why Mama Venus won't let me come back. I can help so much. Neri-chan is asking, too."

And probably listening to us, if she's awake. Sarah reached out and put her hand on Kimi's head. "Venus-sama knows best, Second Moon."


Nagy saw someone new step out of the darkness. It was a little girl in a pretty frock, dark-skinned, with big dark eyes, clutching a cloth doll with yellow yarn making its hair--and the doll's hair looked like--

The little girl walked up to the woman in grey and the woman in the wheelchair, the Death Angel in the wheelchair. The Death Angel asked her, "Who are you?"

"Keesha."

"Why are you scared of me?"

"You have skulls all over you. You look scary."

"May I see your doll?"

The little girl held out the doll.

"It is a Sailor Moon doll," said the Death Angel.

"I thought she got lefted behind," said the little girl, "But now I have her. I'm in my bestest dress. Am I in Heaven now?"

The lady in gray said, "What do you remember before you came here?"

"Gramma took me an' Tanya to the car and we drove real fast until we were in a buncha cars. Gramma tried to drive around them and we got stucked in the mud. Then the wind blew really hard. A truck tipped over on us. The top of the car was all mushed in. It was dark. It was real cold, and water came in and it was really cold. Tanya wouldn't wake up and Gramma wouldn't talk."

The Death Angel said, "Did you wish that Sailor Moon would really come to help?"

"Uh-huh . . . She's like an angel, she has wings." And the doll did have droopy cloth wings.

The lady in gray said, "Don't. If you use--"

"I was given this power to help," said the Death Angel. She turned back to the little girl and said, "I did not know you needed my help, Keesha-chan. But you will have it now.I am the real Sailor Moon."

"You don't look the same."

"I have changed. I am older than when your doll was made, Keesha-chan. I have girls of my own now. Come closer," said the Death Angel, as a brilliant jewel emerged from her, constantly changing, floating between her hands. "This is the ginzuishou, the Silver Crystal. I will use it to help you." And it seemed to glow brighter than the sun . . .


Something made Sailor Jupiter turn back and take another look at the overturned truck she had just flown over. And taking that second look, she saw something was under it. She blasted open the cargo compartment and threw the cargo out piece by piece until she had cleared the area over the car, then she ripped through the remaining wall and then the roof of the car below to expose the passenger compartment. It was almost filled with mud and water. The driver had died instantly, and one of the girls in the back was ice cold, long gone. But the other one was breathing. Jupiter blasted some of the remaining cargo to start a fire, and warmed and dried the girl before flying her through the driving rain to a shelter. If only Chibi Moon was with us, I could save so many more with her to teleport. But Sailor Jupiter did save this one.


Chapter 29: Resolution


White House, Washington, DC
6:54 am EDT

MAJOR HORTHY was completing a full walkaround of the Third Floor, perhaps a quixotic act given the poor excuse for fowl weather gear she had, a raincoat over a sweater. She was soaked to the skin. Still, she had seen the complete prospect with her own eyes.

There were trees down in Lafayette park but, surprisingly, none on the White House grounds, though there were many fallen branches, some the size of small or not-so-small trees. A few of the third-floor windows were broken, but most had survived intact behind their shutters. The traditional windows divided up into small panes had held up well. There were many broken windows showing in the more modern buildings visible from the White House.

The wind was still strong, gusts dangerous. Perhaps the Americans were exagerating their predictions for the afternoon, but the weather was much too bad for flying now.

It was also too bad for Baiburs' lackeys, so when she found Sergeiev braving the weather with Vietingoff, she felt free to speak. "Sergeiev, have you talked with everyone?"

"All of our men," said the Siberian. "You have our support. What do you think we should do?"

"Be ready to act quickly. Baiburs wants us and the Americans to believe we will agree to the evacuation. I don't know if that is his real plan. Maybe he thinks he has a way to get himself away."

"That would surprise no one," said Veitingoff.

"Be careful around Fahd and his men, too," said Horthy. "My guess is that Baiburs has at least one plant among them."

"If we move against Baiburs, will Fahd support us?" asked Veitingoff.

"I don't know," said Horthy. "Fahd is a better man than Baiburs, but I think he is a patriot." She shrugged. "I have a special compulsion to stay here now, but if any man should find a way to leave, I will not complain."

"We signed with you and the Colonel," said Sergeiev. "We will all finish this thing together."


7:38 am EDT

"This just in . . . There was a gun battle a few moments ago between police and FBI agents and some alleged bank robbers. They were apparently discovered trying to break into bank offices located only a few blocks from FBI headquarters and shooting broke out . . . "

The mayor shook his head. "Business as usual for crooks, I guess," muttered Winston Clayborne, and then he said to an assistant, "Phil, call the Chief when you get a chance. Find out if he lost anyone?"


7:39 am EDT

The Acting Director of the FBI said, "I think the news release will hold up. Fortunately our friends set themselves up in a building that actually has a branch bank on the first floor."

"You mean there actually was more than one?" asked Buonnarti.

"Three men and one woman," said Anne Kerkorian. "We took the woman alive. They killed one of my agents and wounded two others, a policeman from the District force and a National Guard trooper."

"Another surprise," said Brinkman, the military intelligence man. "Still, accurate information. Our newest friend seems to be genuine."

"Don't be so sure," said Buonnarti.

"Why?" asked Brinkman.

"As Sun Tzu said, some spies are doomed. They may have sacrificed some of their people to make us trust their so-called defector. Dzerzhinsky was a master at this sort of thing."

The President was master of many facts, but she recognized neither the name of the Chinese strategist nor of Lenin's spymaster and chief secret policeman. "Why would they want us to believe they have a traitor, Mr. Buonnarti?"

Buonnarti said, "I don't know. Maybe to draw out this thing, get a little more propaganda out of it. Maybe to tempt us into making an attack so they can set off their bomb with cleaner hands. And maybe they want to get this 'defector' out so she can do more damage later. We're not really sure she is who we've been told. Anyway, we don't have much at all on her if she is really Maria Horthy. She might really belong to them."

"She is who we think," said the President.

"According to our friends?" said Buonnarti, a slight sneer in his voice, perhaps.

Of course, with the FBI and the NSA on the angels, the CIA looks third-best now. I don't need this . . . "Mr. Buonnarti may have a point. We are not going to accept everything she tells us uncritically. However, we can't afford to ignore her."


8:31 am EDT

Maria Horthy checked her pager. She read the critical message, and then erased it. One arrow gone from Baiburs' quiver, at least . . .


9:04 am EDT

Baiburs said, "One of our operative teams was uncovered and overwhelmed by the Americans. This is regrettable. However, they are not our only outside resource."

"Is the latest American proposal acceptable?" asked Horthy drily.

"If you mean, will the evacuation take place, yes it will, Major," said Baiburs. "And soon, perhaps within the hour. Despite mishaps, the mission is almost accomplished." Baiburs lit a cigarette. "How is your Leftenent Colonel?"

"Still unconscious, but he is beginning to mutter things. Maybe he's coming out of it."

"A hopeful sign. Is he saying anything of importance?"

"If he is, no one understands it."


The things emerged from the darkness driving the man Nagy still thought of as "Sultan." He wasn't in his fancy uniform now; he was dressed in slacks and sport coat, looking very much like a typical academic--perhaps his insight about his lecturing had been right. How you appeared in this place seemed to depend on your mood, maybe . . . except that he still wore the same hussar's uniform, like in the picture book from so long ago.

The gray lady had changed a number of times, but now she was as she was when she first appeared, something that seemed more and more familiar to him somehow . . . but he could not explain it. The woman turned to the Death Angel and said, "Can you read him?"

"Yes. Fazi al Kaukji! How do you disarm your bomb?"

"I will not tell you!" Sultan answered defiantly, once more the "General."

"You already have. Is there something more?" The Death Angel took on an intense look of concentration.

Suddenly Nagy could hear Sultan's thoughts, see into his mind . . . and he realized--

"I'm inside your mind!"

"Yes," said the woman in gray. "You are in each other's minds. You have been since the link was made. You seem to talk and listen because that is the way your minds can accept it best."

"Then this place is not real?"

"Oh, it is real. Very real," said the woman in gray. Then she turned to the Death Angel, and did more of her magic. "Moon Princess, the link you made may have a final price. Only one of you may freely return. My art may let the other return, but I am doubtful. You are the sovereign of your worldline. You must choose who will go back."

The Death Angel turned to Nagy. "You must stop Baiburs before it is too late. I have seen your heart. You are an honorable enemy. You have showed kindness at risk to yourself. If I do not return, the Grey Lady will remember these things.."

And then he was gone from the strange place . . .


7:22 am PDT

Naru heard the screams and ran toward them. Everyone in the house seemed to be gathered outside Usagi's room except . . .

Except inside Carmen and Alison Gonsoles were doing CPR. Usagi was no longer the floating Death Angel; she was just a naked woman laid out on her bed, limp and lifeless as a rag doll.

Naru fought through the tears to think. She worked her Art and saw . . .

"Chibi-moon! Luna!" she cried out, "I need you. The rest of you, out, there is nothing you can do now. See to the babies, your screaming has woken them up and scared them."


10:22 am EDT

"Istvan? Do you hear me now?"

Istvan Nagy opened his eyes to find Maria staring at him.

"You've been babbling on for an hour. Can you actually talk some sense now?"

He looked down at himself. He was in a bed . . . this had to be the Third Floor, and this was a room for one of the live-in servants, or the less-important guests. And he was not in a hussar's uniform . . . he was in the same underwear he had been wearing since Friday Morning, and it smelled like it.

"What has happened?"

"You have missed much. We had a fight, but drove off whoever or whatever was attacking. Costumed women, mostly, straight out of comic books. Sultan is dead--"

"I know that," said Nagy. "Maria, where is Baiburs? You haven't shot him, have you?"

"No. I came damned close, but . . . His men have Zita."

"Damn . . . Does Baiburs control the bomb?"

"Yes," said Horthy. "How do you know about--"

"Did he say anything about resetting the timers?"


Usagi stood up. Her wheelchair faded away.

"I warned you not to use the Ginzuishou here," said the Grey Lady.

"The wheelchair . . . it was here because it was part of my life?"

The Grey Lady did not answer the question.

"So . . . this is the world of death."

"An edge of it," said the Grey Lady. "The world of death is never far from any other world."

Usagi became the Death Angel, but with the short skirt she had worn before she was crippled. "I have my legs back. Mamoru loved my legs so much . . . so did Jimmy. He must be here too . . ."

The Grey Lady did not respond; she was working her Art again.

"I can still hear Nagy-san's thoughts, even see through his eyes a little," said Sailor Moon.

After she finished her latest spell, the Grey Lady said, "You are still linked with him. Your task is not finished."


7:25 am PDT

Auntie Setsuna's friend mistook Kimi for Ishi again, but Kimi did not correct her. She explained, "Sarah is using her magic to keep mama from dying."

"Is it working?"

"I don't think so. Give me Ishi-chan. Maybe I can help her."

Kimi Chiba walked away from the room where she could do nothing to help, trying to comfort Ikuko-chan. I wonder if she knows, thought Kimi.

Sarah would try to use the ginzuishou before long, of course, and that could kill her, too.

Kimi walked past her room, right next to okasan's, and past the nursery, full of fussing babies now, down to the opposite end of the walkway, quietly crying herself the whole way. Between two of the windows there was a mirror, always an attraction for Ikuko-chan, and Kimi pointed at their images, and held up Ikuko-chan in front of the mirror . . .


10:29 am EDT

Nagy's arguments with Baiburs did not impress the man, but he made a more than reasonable attempt before pulling out his pistol, aiming it at Baiburs' head, and squeezing the trigger.

Unfortunately, it did not fire, and he heard a mental apology from the woman who was still in his brain, after all. That was all he heard before Baiburs shot him.

And then he was back in the place without walls. The woman in gray was there, and the Death Angel, now looking sensual with long legs exposed by very short skirts--

And Maria was beside him, dressed in that eve-of-battle gown . . .


7:30 am EPT

In the mirror, Kimi saw it, Baiburs, the meanest man, shooting a man and a woman, and another man shooting yet another man who seemed about to shoot Baiburs. It was all over before she could do anything--except, instinctively, transform and shift Ikuko-chan to one hand so that she could use the other hand to . . . what?


10:30 am EDT

"What happened?" demanded Fahd, stepping over Sergeiev, whom he had just shot.

"Nagy went mad and tried to kill me," said Baiburs. "He babbled on that he knew that our Commander had given me false codes."

"Their other men, they will attack us as soon as they know of this!"

Baiburs leveled his gun at Fahd. "Go out and tell the rest of them I will detonate the device if they do not lay down their arms."

"I just saved your life," said Fahd. "You do not need to point your gun at me!" He turned and left.


Sergeiev appeared to make his last report, and then another came . . . he was hard to recognize at first, because his hair had turned white and he was dressed very differently. But it was the man the Death Angel had so mourned.

"Endymion. Mamoru. I can be with you again now," said the Death Angel.

"No, not now," said the man with majesty in his voice. "Not yet. I have come to help."

"Help?"

"Your task is not finished. There is only one left who can stop the bomb."


7:32 am PDT

In the mirror, Kimi Moon saw Baiburs pull an antenna out of a laptop, and begin to type.

Use the rose!

And before she could think of whose voices were sounding in her mind, before she knew, she had done it.

Then she stepped through the mirror. She heard Deja scream behind her just before, and now she heard shooting. But she listened to the voices in her mind first.

A429b$@ . . .


10:33 am EDT

The time had come after all. There was firing in the White House, nothing to do with the Sailors or the American soldiers.

They teleported up to the roof and gathered in three rings: the Asatara, the four Outers, and the three Inners still in action. Upon Venus' command, they launched their bolts into the heavens. Then Mercury turned her visor on the White House and the particular coordinates where the combined attack would return to earth.

And then Jupiter shouted, "Stop it! Kimi Moon is inside!"


10:34 am EDT

General Thysson commented, "The little one was right about that attack of theirs."

"Except that they missed, General," said Buonnarti, who was not bothering to take cover under the conference table.


10:35 am EDT

Veitingoff burst into the Monroe office, expecting to find Baiburs dead or alive. He brought up his weapon, the heavy sniper rifle he could aim as easily as a pistol, but he hesitated to fire. The little apparition before him, black-winged with deaths-heads festooning her hair, ears, and throat, was holding an infant in one arm while typing into a laptop with the other. Baiburs leaned back in his chair seeing nothing, a blue rose growing out of one eye.

Meanwhile the senshi were fighting in the basement--a surprisingly brief fight since only two of Baiburs' men were still alive when they arrived. While Fahd had died a patriot, most of his men had chosen the better part of valor. The mercenaries, being experienced, knew when it was time to give up.

Delta Force came about a minute late for the final fight. Baiburs had picked brave men for the final defense of the bomb, but not very smart ones. They did not figure out how to rearm the bomb before Moon Angel Lambda phased through the steel door of the most secure place in the White House. Their bullets passed through her body. The blade of Zoë's sword was more substantial, and the Delta Force commander would say later that the bomb room looked like an abattoir.


"The task is done," said the Grey Lady. "You must return now."

"Can't I stay a little longer?" asked Sailor Moon.

"Chibi-usa is using the ginzuishou," said Endymion. "It is dangerous to remain, for her and for you."

She kissed her immortal love, and then turned to the soldier and his lady. "You were both as kind as you could be to my people. What can I do when I return?"

"Save Zita," said Nagy, impressing within her all he could of his child.

Sailor Moon did not have time for another kiss before she was drawn away from the world of death.


Usagi's first sight of her world through her own eyes was someone not of it--Theophilus the musical vampire was playing his mute clarinet. "I can hear your music more clearly now."

"Not as clearly as the Grey Lady, Madame, I would wager. But you are an even closer friend of death than you were."

"Why are you here?"

"I came to help. And why am I here at this moment? It is night. The living need their sleep, so I volunteered to watch you. Should I get the others?"

"Do you know if Kimi told the others about Nagy and Horthy's child?"

"Ah, the child of your enemies," said Theophilus, shaking his head. "Your sense of mercy never fails to astonish. Yes, your daughter did tell the rest of your court. They did find the child in time. Fortunately for her, perhaps, her captors were swine. Instead of simply disposing of the child and disappearing when they heard that their great scheme had failed, they decided to have some sport with her first. Their sport attracted the attention of the younger Venus and the oldest of Jupiter's children. I understand they made quite a mess before their elders arrived." Theophilus shook his head. "Such a pity I wasn't along. All that lovely blood wasted. A meal I would have truly relished . . . in Paris, too. I haven't been to a Paris in ages. Perhaps I will be here long enough to see yours."

Theophilus played a few notes of unearthly music, perhaps to work a small spell, perhaps simply for pleasure, or perhaps to get a bad taste from his mind. "Should I get someone else?"

"I don't know . . . I can't quite see the clock. But I can see you well enough . . . I guess I see better in the dark now, even when I'm not transformed."

"One of the benefits of being more intimate with death, perhaps," said Theophilus. He pulled a watch from somewhere within his very odd, very flamboyant outfit. "I stopped your clock; the chimes are too loud. Mmmm, I believe it is a bit past four. Not much night left for me now. You would have to get into trouble at the height of the local summer, wouldn't you?"

"I'll schedule my next crisis for December 21st," said Usagi. "If everyone else is asleep . . . play for me awhile?"

"Of course, Madame. Do you have a request?"

"The song from the Moon Kingdom, the only one I remember. Do you remember it?"

"I never forget a melody, Madame."


Chapter 30: Funeral Games


As Kaidou Yoko, Prime Minister Matsudaira's daughter predicted, Yamashita the baka was made into a great hero and given a state funeral. NHK carried it on both of its channels, and the commercial networks in Japan did not do much less.

Kaidou Goro missed that funeral, and it was noted, though not officially.


"Oh . . . Kaidou-san," said Rei, struggling to bring his face in focus. "Why are you here? How did you find me?" Rei winced, and then asked, "Did my father send you?"

Kaidou shook his head, apparently not catching the dry jest Rei had intended. "Mizuno-san works in this hospital," he said. "It was not hard to guess you would be here. Your father does not know I am here."

"I would not bet that he does not," said Rei.

"He should not know," said Kaidou. "Actually I don't know where he is."

"In Japan," said Rei, "Since Friday, but he promised to return . . . perhaps he will keep this promise. And where is Yoko your wife, Kaidou-san?"

"Also in Japan," he answered, "With her family." He reached out and took her hand.

After staring at his hand for a moment, Rei said, "How long have you been here?"

"About two hours."

"Two hours of watching me snore?" said Rei.

"Everyone snores sometimes. You are not bad."

"Baka. You are very foolish to be here, Kaidou-san." But she did not remove his hand. She began to talk about Yuuichirou. It was a long time before she came to the point where she admitted she was not sure where to take his ashes.


Being officially a Jew, Ginger Han was buried in the District before the climax of the crisis, since one of the tenets of that faith is that the dead must be laid to rest quickly. Reinterment was not a priority of her parents for the moment. They missed her funeral, carried out by a rabbi and a minyan of old men, none of whom had known her in life.


Naru had a traditional Buddhist funeral for Gurio, not because Gurio had been a particularly fervant Buddhist, but because his family expected it, and there seemed no harm. She faced a lot more pressure than she expected to move back to Japan, finally pushing her inlaws back with a promise to make a longer visit later, when matters were more settled.


Sumi Kurume had had definite opinions on nearly everything, and one of them was religion. He had been a rationalist, from a family of determined rationalists. So she had held a secular memorial service for him. Later, she had taken his ashes to a place down the coast that Usagi suggested, and scattered them on the wind, returning what was left of Kurume to nature. What his ghost thought of this, if he really was in the world of the dead as Usagi had said, Ami did not guess. But it felt like the right thing. What mattered was what he had done in his life, not where his ashes happened to be.


Mamoru hadn't a follower of any religion in this life. In private, Usagi did the rites of the old Moon Kingdom as she best remembered them. In public, she held a secular funeral, well-attended not only by the senshi and all of Mamoro's daughters, but by a large part of the hospital staff at Highland, many people from Stanford, and many of his patients.

It was at Mamoru's funeral that they first showed up: concerned strangers--Christians. Very active Christians brimming with sympathy, and with bright-eyed enthusiasm. Not Catholics; Rei the miko had gone to a Catholic school in Japan, so Usagi and her friends were long familiar with Catholics. Naru even had cousins who were Catholics. No, these people were from some other sect.

They seemed particularly interested in Makoto.


Nagy, Horthy, Sergeiev, Beriev . . . and al Kaukji and "Baiburs" and the rest of the enemy dead were buried in unmarked graves in one of the many military areas of Nevada. They were not the first officially anonymous dead to be put there. The survivors were buried beneath a deep blanket of secrecy at several military sites while the government of the United States pondered whether to prosecute them or find other uses for them.


Magda Esterhazy, aside from cheating on her taxes a little like every good French citizen, born or naturalized, had led a blameless life which ended because she was an inconvenience to the agents who seized her niece. She got a funeral mass, of course, but was saved from the anonymity of potters field by an anonymous donor. Since she had had the good taste to be born in France, her niece was safe from deportation. For the time being, the girl known as Zita Esterhazy went to an orphanage.


Henry Uffizi was the highest-ranking United States official to die, but he had the misfortune to be among several Secret Service fatalities, so his funeral was much less well covered than that of Abel Ruthen, the only FBI casualty. Since his body layed in state in the Hoover building before the funeral, his often-said jest came true: His last exit was feet first. His funeral was attended by the now-confirmed Director of the FBI, and by His Honor, the Mayor of Washington DC, Winston Claybourne, who made the longest speech.


Urawa Ryo's funeral was the last of all the fatalities because of a cruel mistake: Makoto found the wrong body in the coffin when he was supposedly shipped back. But it seemed to have one good result: It gave Makoto more time to think about what to do. Ryo had been interested in many religions, but he had never really picked one. Mostly he followed Shinto because his parents had been fairly traditionalist, like a lot of the Northern people, and like Makoto's parents. Maybe we feel we have to be even more Japanese, thought Makoto as she pondered the problem. She finally decided to have a mostly secular funeral with Shinto and Hindu glosses--Zara was pretty free about switching between the Shinto devotions of her father and Makoto, and the Hindu rites of her mother.

Makoto did not expect a big affair like Mamoru's funeral. Mamoru's business had been saving lives; Ryo's had been making money for other people. She expected she would have just her friends and perhaps some of the school friends of her children. Still, she asked for an open funeral, not a private one. Ryo had been a hard man to really know, but an easy man to like. Who could say who might want to say a last goodbye to him?

As she had for Yuuichirou, she wore kimono for the rites, and this time Zoë, Zara and Tammy wore kimono too, though Makoto had suggested a sari for Zara at first. Another noticeable expense, even when all she had purchased were the materials and had done most of the sewing herself. Ryo's estate was tied up by a lawsuit: One of his clients was claiming Ryo had somehow mishandled his investments. Greenmail, Rei called it, a frivolous suit designed simply to get Makoto to pay to make the litigation go away. There was life insurance, several policies, but the important one was from a company that seemed to be stalling, something about a conveniently-missing payment and the policy technically lapsing during the time of Ryo's death. The others were all designed to pay for the children's education. That left just her own savings, rapidly melting away.

But some things were not to be stinted on.

It was when the old Shinto priest was performing his rites that the voice came from the back of the room.

"Come back to me, darlings! Come back to Jesus!"

Makoto turned around as quickly as she could in a formal kimono and saw the back of the room had filled up with strangers. Some of them had cameras. But she recognized two of them. She had never met them in person, but she knew who they were even before Philip buried his face in her bosom, before Tammy almost fell over backwards before Zoë caught her.

"Come back! Come back to Jesus!"

The faces Makoto recognized among the strangers taking up the chant were Vera and Alvin Yount's, Philip and Tammy's birth parents.


Send comments to: sewell_thomas@hotmail.com