::Chapter Two::
John had never liked dancing. Like most post-pubecent men in America, he viewed it as a necessary evil, something to be done only when forced into it by a really cute girl.
Afura, as with the other priestesses, had been trained since she was a little girl at Temple in the various arts and skills of the Royal Court. For public figures it was expected that they know how to behave in social situations, and while Shayla had lagged behind and just barely earned a passing mark in these studies, Afura had taken a secret delight in such grandiose formalities.
These two facts combined to make John look like a total fool on the dance floor. He'd seen the chick flicks, and could parrot a decent waltz, but the music they were playing was different in a few small but fundamental ways from the limited classical works he'd been exposed to. Every few stanzas it seemed to switch tempo, and the scales were reversed. These switches didn't seem to follow any kind of predictable pattern, either, and so when he began to follow Afura through one particular set of steps she would suddenly spin him around and he'd nearly fall over himself trying to follow.
God, we've got to look like a hippo and a swan trying to waltz, he thought, and giggled a bit at the image his imagination painted for him.
Pay attention! Afura snapped at him.
Her voice startled him, and he looked at her and smiled sheepishly. Sorry, I guess there's a bit more I still have to learn here.
I'll say, she replied, haven't you ever done this before?
No, not really. One time in elementary school there was a bunch of rich kids who went to some special class to learn manners, but I never went for that kind of stuff.
she said.
It wasn't that we were poor or anything, he continued absentmindedly, I just never really fit in with that crowd. They were all so stuck up and snotty, they had these really superior attitudes like they were better than everyone else. You know what I'm talking about? The question seemed innocent enough to John, but it produced a totally unexpected reaction in Afura. Her eyes grew as wide as dinner plates for a split second, then she looked away in shame.
So, you don't think that, that I'm like that? Her voice betrayed a level of insecurity that no one would ever have guessed was there, and it took John completely by surprise.
He abruptly stopped dancing and led Afura off to one of the unoccupied tables, then sat down next to her.
he began, you can be awfully bossy sometimes. When we first began working together on this magic stuff, I thought you were a genuine hard-ass.
She looked up at him so quick that he put his hands up in surrender. Whoa, whoa, on my planet that just means you're hard on people you've been put in charge of! It's got nothing to do with your, well... his voice trailed off.
She regarded him for a few seconds, then commanded, Go on.
said John, I figured you were just trying to make sure I got it right, and I appreciate that. There were a few times that first week when I felt like you were trying to kill me, but I kept thinking back to that first day when I got transported to the market. I've never been more frightened in my life, but you were so kind and understanding, that, I dunno. I could just tell that whatever else went on, you really cared about what happened to me. So, that's why I asked you here. I wanted to say thank you, and also to get to know you a little better, I guess. But it didn't exactly go like I planned.
A small tear ran down her face, and Afura laughed a little. Why, what did you have planned?
answered John, I had planned to be utterly charming, witty, dashing and debonaire. But I think I ended up just being silly.
Afura laughed again. I think you did just fine, she said, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. It was John's turn to be totally surprised, and when she pulled back he was just about to say something, when a high-toned ringing from the stage caught everyone's attention.
Everybody? Could I have your attention for just a few minutes? Miz called out, then set her glass down on a table. Mr. Fujisawa and Mika walked up behind her, and he put a hand on Miz's shoulder.
I just wanted to thank you all for coming, she said, especially all of our friends from the other kingdoms. It means so much that you all came here tonight, and I'd also like to thank the royal family for hosting the ceremony. Miz raised her glass again in toast, and a hardy here, here! rose up from the crowd.
There's just one more thing we'd like to tell you all before you go, said Mr. Fujisawa, then he stooped down and whispered go ahead, to Mika.
The little girl took the thumb she had been sucking diligently from her mouth and hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and yelled at the top of her lungs, Mommy's pwegnant! then spun right back around and buried her face in Miz's dress.
The applause began slowly, and steadily worked it's way up until the noise should have, by all rights, brought down the Palace itself. The soon-to-be four Fujisawa's stood at it's heart, frozen for an instant in that perfect slice of time.
****
The sun was hot, but the royal cruiser had been built to princess Fatora's exacting requirements, and so she laid on what ancient Earth sailors would have called the poop deck, spread out under the cruiser's sails and basking in the cool breeze being pumped over her by her own climate control system.
She and Alielle were laying out', as she had explained to her crew in very simple terms, which meant that there were to be no interruptions unless their lives were in imminent danger.
Aaaahh, nothing like the perfect tan, eh Alielle? Fatora took a sip from the large
frothing glass on the table between the two, and Alielle squeaked an affirmative. They were just four hours outside of Helusan, and Fatora had decided to forego the usual arrival preparations and take some time to clear her mind for the upcoming talks. The steading hugged the edge of the Desert of Bleached White Bones, which meant she could look forward to a very uneventful trip. There was absolutely nothing to the place, except for it's location. Over half the Kingdom had to travel through it to reach the Fountain of Arliman, and the tolls paid to make use of the few safe routes through the desert accounted for fully two-thirds of the steading's income. They had just upped their rates for the fifth time without informing the royal family why, and Fatora was out to discover why they kept rising.
At least, officially. The bookkeepers would do much of the real work, with Dr. Stalubaugh overseeing it. But he and Rune had seen an opportunity to show Fatora just how boring life as a diplomat could be, which hadn't kept her from insisting that everything be done her way regardless. The drinks tray next to her lounge chair attested to that.
The drinks tray was also the first thing to spill it's entire contents onto the deck when the first explosion rocked the cruiser and sent Alielle and Fatora sailing from their chairs.
The cutters of the Fifth Armored Division responded instantly to the attack, by scattering and trying to discover just where the attack was coming from. Not one of the scouts had reported seeing anything but sand and bones for the past half-hour, and frantic orders were shouted across the wastes as they searched the horizon in vain.
Sixteen football-sized pods had descended from the middle of the sky, and destroyed two of the twelve cutters that were guarding the royal envoy. The second Caravan, the one that Dr. Stalubaugh was traveling on, had been hit far worse than Fatora's, and it careened madly, it's sail disrupted and landing skids torn apart.
What the HELL is going on? Fatora shouted over the noise as she clung to the side rails on the ship for dear life. Behind her from the stern of the ship a distress flare shot into the sky, and erupted in a ball of green flame guaranteed to grab the attention of anyone within a hundred miles.
Another round of the explosive pods fell, and the second cruiser lost all forward momentum and crashed into the desert dunes as her hull was raked with fire. Two more cutters vanished in their own explosions, but again Fatora's cruiser got off miraculously light. Guards began to pour out onto the deck and surrounded her and Alielle -who were still in their embarrassingly revealing bikinis- just as purple Bugrom soldiers were dropped from the same empty place in the sky the pods had been.
The deck became a battlefield as incredulous guards battled with the Bugrom troops, and for a minute or two the guards more than held their own. Their forcepikes seemed to cut into the Bugrom's previously impenetrable armor without any trouble, but the ship was quickly overrun. Fatora screamed as she witnessed her guards giving up their lives to defend her; some were thrown off the sides of the ship, some were beaten to the deck, and some were simply broken like twigs in the giant hands of the Bugrom. Alielle fainted when the head from one of the Bugrom landed right in front of her, and Fatora hurried to hide her beneath one of the canvas deck coverings that had come loose during the fighting.
She turned around and stood up just in time to see the last of her guards being tossed mercilessly off the deck. She stepped backwards, and her foot slipped in a puddle of something wet, probably her drink, and she fell back against the deck wall.
What do you want?! she screamed as she pushed herself back further, and the Bugrom advanced towards her. Fatora screamed again and held her arms up, and the Bugrom paused to bring their fists up to strike.
She waited an eternity for the blow to be struck, but it didn't come. She heard footsteps moving away from her, and looked up to see the Bugrom walking towards the bow of the ship. They leapt off one by one, and then a giant transport bug lifted off the desert beneath them and flew away towards the horizon. Fatora scrambled back into the canvas, and pulled Alielle out from it. She tried to wake the poor girl, but she was obviously unconscious.
Fatora picked her up and turned around to walk below deck, and then the magnitude of the atrocity she'd just lived through registered. Everywhere she looked, it seemed, there were the broken bodies of her guard, the flight crew, and the minor functionaries that had come along on their voyage. The pristine white hull of the ship was splotched with red all around, and among the human wreckage were the victories the guards had managed to score against the Bugrom. Their giant metallic shells littered the deck, oozing green and purple fluids to mingle with the blood of her servants.
Fatora stood there, helpless, her face as white as the bones they were sailing over, and then her own cruiser crashed into a dune. She was thrown from her feet and collapsed, knocked unconscious against the side of the ship.
****
Damn, Laen, you tryin' to get us killed? Serun glanced back at the immense ribcage his pilot/friend had just flown them past. One of the ribs rose at least two stories into the sky, and Laen laughed hardily.
Oh, hush. You said you didn't believe that the dragons of legend really existed, so I just thought I'd help change your mind. The small transport they operated jointly along the main route to the Arliman Hot Springs was free of passengers this afternoon, and so they were skimming along the desert dunes much faster than the officials would approve of.
Just shut it, would you? replied Serun testily, we ain't no good to the government if our skimmer's busted from your fool stunts. And besides, I don't think that, wait, what the hell is that?
He pointed towards the horizon, and Laen slowed down and grabbed the binoculars from his trunk. He held them up, and after a few seconds said, looks like some kind of flare. Never seen one that color, though. Must be something special.
Turn this bucket around, Laen. We've got to get to the station. Serun took the binoculars from his friends' hands, and looked out that way himself as he felt the skimmer's bow pulling them around in an arc. A series of explosions, barely perceptible against the blinding white light of the sun, dotted his vision, and he tapped Laen on the shoulder absentmindedly without looking away.
And I think we'd better hurry.
The tiny skimmer set down on the far side of the Hot Springs, and Serun and Laen had made it halfway across the grounds of the camp, when their supervisor's voice boomed behind them.
Hold it, you two! A very large, stocky man approached the suddenly still men from behind, and he was clearly annoyed with them.
Do you know what kind of skimmer comes back to base without any passengers? he asked them.
Serun spun around and began to talk in a panic. But, boss, you don't understand. We saw...
I don't care what you think you saw, those things are too damned expensive to operate unless they're making money!
There was a distress flare, Laen interjected stoically, and the boss turned to him.
What kind of flare? he asked in a much more serious tone of voice.
Serun answered, I don't know, I've never seen anything like it before, but it was green.
Their boss's face went hard. Get your ship refueled. We're loading up a medical team on it, so clear out your personal crap, too. NOW!
The tiny smattering of ships was woefully unprepared to evacuate many survivors, but thanks to the Bugrom they wouldn't have to. As soon as they reached the site of Fatora's cruiser that fact became graphically evident, and one skimmer peeled off from the main group to check the royal cutters that were strewn about.
It was Serun, actually, who found Fatora and Alielle, huddled together in dirty bathrobes below the main deck. After some coaxing they were brought up to see the boss, and only then was the rescue crew made aware that there was a second cruiser to search for. They took the two women aboard and left off again, and ten minutes later found the wreckage of Dr. Stalubaugh's ship.
The badly mangled hull had snapped in two, and both halves stuck out of the dunes at odd angles, their bases already buried in the ever-shifting sands. Glad for something to do, Fatora and Alielle were the first to search the stern half, and to their vast relief discovered Dr. Stalubaugh and four crew members, barricaded together in a closet.
Seven people, out of the 147 who had first set out from the Royal Palace two days ago, were the only ones to survive the Bugrom's surprise attack. And so it was that seven people, accompanied by the traders and pilots that made their living among the dunes, arrived in Floristica to make their report.
****
Makoto pulled his face away from the beaker just in time; the explosion was a small one by his own standards, but that didn't keep it from covering his face with soot. Again. The mixture he'd just tried, one of several types of blended grain alcohol, was the closest he had come to formulating a replacement gasoline for John's engine yet, and he was glad for John's help as they both labored to make Makoto's idea more than just a pipe dream.
They were getting close, too. The factory where the parts for the engine would be molded was nearing completion, and the sails and hull were starting their production run, as well. Makoto had been flattered when he learned that Londs had ordered their construction before he was even sure they could be used, since it indicated a great deal of trust and confidence on the part of the royal family. And although he shared their confidence, there was a tiny part of him that was deathly afraid of failing, too.
Oh geeze, Makoto, it's a wonder you haven't killed us yet! Nanami said from her perch on a lab stool behind the goggled duo. What went wrong this time?
John stood up from observing the readout on one of the gauges they'd been monitoring the liquid's pressure with. I think it's still too rich; that stuff's still more combustible than nitrous, and there's no way we'll be able to design an injection system that'll handle it.
Makoto said wearily, I thought we were real close this time. We need something to dilute it with that won't choke the carburetor.
John put his hand to his chin in a thoughtful pose, and after a few seconds snapped his fingers.
he said, what about that lead additive I've got in the trunk? If we could make it heavier somehow, I'll bet that'd do it!
Makoto's eyes were suddenly bright. Hey, you're right! I think I can add more lead to it if we get it hot enough. I'll get some bars from the store room.
And I'll grab the additive! replied John enthusiastically, and the two of them got up from the table and were on their way to the door when a breathless royal messenger ran up to them. They paused to allow the messenger to gather himself, but he spoke suddenly.
Sir Makoto, Sir John, Miss Nanami, you must come quickly. Lady Fatora has been attacked by the Bugrom!
The three friends glanced at each other for a moment, then Makoto nodded for the messenger to take them to the throne room.
When they got there Fatora was sobbing gently in the arms of her sister, and Alielle ran immediately for Nanami and clamped her arms around her waist without saying a word. Dr. Stalubaugh, who hadn't had to witness the carnage that the two women had, was a little more coherent, and Sir Londs was attempting to pry as much information out of the man as possible. The rest of the ship's crew that had come with him was in a corner being debriefed by some official.
It was towards the doctor that Makoto and John made their way, and they walked up just behind Londs. Dr. Stalubaugh looked up at the two boys, and smiled.
Oh, Makoto, John, it is good to see you again, he said, and if his voice was heavy with the weight of what had just happened, there was a small attempt at brevity around it's edges, and Makoto sighed inwardly. That was a good sign.
Doc, what happened? asked John.
The doctor took a deep breath, and exhaled it slowly as if cleansing something from his system before he responded. In all my years I have never seen such an attack as that one. The Royal guards did their best, but I am afraid that there was little for them to do. For you see, throughout the entire attack our assailants were invisible.
Londs gasped. Do you think then, that...
The Bugrom have allied themselves with the Phantom Tribe, Dr. Stalubaugh finished. Yes, it seems our greatest fear has been realized. We have no idea where the Bugrom came from, since their base across the Holy River of God was destroyed years ago. And we have never been able to locate the home of the Tribe, either. Now our two most feared enemies are moving against us, and we cannot respond for we know not where to attack.
Londs ground his teeth in impotent rage, then turned around and began barking orders. Send out patrols! Double teams! Scour every inch of the countryside until you discover the location of the Bugrom hive! One of the guards at the door bowed and left the room at a run, and then Londs turned to John.
Sir John,
Please, just John is fine.
If you were to go with our patrols, would you be able to discover another hidden force with your powers?
John gulped. Well, I'm really just starting to get past the basics, now. I'm not even sure about how I can use this thing- he put his hand on the lamp he wore -to do normal stuff. I've got a few tricks down, but that's really it. I'm sorry, but maybe if I spent more time on it...
Then you must, Londs interrupted him. You and Nanami are the only two people in the entire Kingdom who can possibly see through the Phantom Tribe's illusions. The fate of El Hazard may rest on whether or not we can discover their whereabouts before it is too late to stop their next attack. Please, you must try! John stared back at him for a few seconds, then nodded severely. Of all the people in the room only he knew that there were in fact many people at the Temple who would be able to see the Phantom Tribe, but they'd been occupied for some time already trying to discover their home. At least, that's what he'd been told.
Hey Londs, Makoto said, it may just be a nasty suspicion, but remember when we told you about the Trigger of Destruction, and how Jinnai wanted to control it?
Londs nodded.
Well what if he's gotten a hold of the remains?
A grave look crossed Dr. Stalubaugh's face. But you said it was destroyed when you and Ifurita defeated Kalia. Are you saying that this is not true?
Makoto smiled, embarrassed. No, it really did fall apart when Kalia lost control of it. But it just fell to the ground in pieces, so we figured it was useless.
You think Jinnai might be trying to reconstruct it? Londs asked.
It might be possible, if he had the help of the Phantom Tribe, Makoto said, so we should probably send someone out to see if it's still there. Besides, all those pieces can't be easy to transport. If he's taken some of them, we'll know that the Bugrom have to be close by.
You're right, said Londs, we must move quickly. I will have the transports prepared. He bowed formally to the princesses, then walked out of the throne room as briskly as his royal training would allow. Dr. Stalubaugh watched him go, then looked up at Makoto.
I will aid you in any way I can to get those flyers ready for war, while John is away. We must be able to combat the Bugrom on more even terms next time.
Makoto held out his hand, and the doctor took it gingerly. Later. You need to rest for a while, said Makoto, but just as he was helping the older man up John yelled back at him from the entrance to a small terrace overlooking the city.
Hey, Makoto!
John reached into his pocket and dug something out, then tossed it at Makoto. He caught it with a *clink*, then opened his hand to stare at the keys to John's car.
Take care of her for me, John said, then winked and turned around and walked out to the terrace. He waved his hand over his lamp, and his shirt billowed out as the winds swirled around him, then picked him off the ground and sent him hurtling into the sky. The royal family watched him waver and lose altitude a couple of times, but then he seemed to get his bearing and was soon out of sight over the horizon.
****
Sir Londs had a difficult decision to make, and had any stranger walked into the gardens that night and seen him they might not have noticed the intense concentration on his face, usually hidden behind his beard and a mask of iron-willed self control.
The situation he was facing was uniquely distressing, however. At present there was still only one person who could detect the Phantom Tribe, Nanami, and the essential weakness of his position was that she could only be in one place at one time. For now that meant keeping her with the Royal family, since no attack on them could be permitted, but that also meant that she could not be sent on the new mission to Helusan which was so vitally important to the Kingdom.
And what if there were members of the Tribe at the site of the Trigger of Destruction? Could they really risk sending more men into what could possibly be enemy territory if those men had no way to see the enemy? Then, there was John. He'd left for the Temple Home as soon as Londs could have hoped for, but not even the great Muldoon Priestesses had been able to tell him how long this new training might take. Afura had warned Londs that it could take months before John really figures out how to control that aspect of his powers, although his natural affinity for the ancient magic seemed to make it much easier for him to learn. Londs secretly suspected that the enigmatic Temple was full of secrets that could be used to aid Roshtaria in preparing for this second Great War, but his efforts to get more information out of the priestesses had been expertly deflected. They obviously didn't know anything more about it, or where too well trained to reveal what they did know, and while he couldn't cite any specific instance that made him think this way, his military mind insisted that there was somehow more to it than just the facade of Mt. Muldoon.
Meanwhile, Makoto would remain behind to finish the work on his jet fighters in the hopes that they could be used against the Bugrom when the next attack came, but their construction was a slow and difficult process, if in fact it proved possible to operate the things once they had them. If anyone in the kingdom could do it, the team of Makoto and Dr. Stalubaugh would, and Londs had done his best to stress once again the urgency with which they must work.
Nanami had been at the side of the royal family ever since Fatora had returned, but the princesses could not be sent on such a risky mission as the one to Helusan again. It might damage the morale of the Kingdom if another mission were destroyed thanks to the Phantom Tribe, but it would be infinitely worse if one of the members of the royal house were kidnapped or assassinated. Fatora had been lost once, and Londs had sworn to never lose either of the princesses again.
He was so deep in meditation that the sensation of a delicate hand on his shoulder startled him unduly. He let out a most undignified yelp, then turned around and tried to hide his surprise from Afura Mann, who had just walked up behind him and began to speak.
From the depth of your concentration, you've got quite a bit on your mind. Might I offer to take some of it off for you?
Londs looked at the priestess with a mixture of annoyance and relief, then asked,
Afura looked out over the city before replying heavily, I've spoken to Shayla-Shayla and Qawoor, and they've agreed that you cannot send Nanami with the search team to the Trigger of Destruction. Therefore, we volunteer to scout it for you. None of your men will be in danger, and we can handle any group of enemy spies or workers we might come across.
Londs sighed, then nodded. I thank you. I am certain that you realize the severity of the situation, but I cannot let you leave without warning you; we still have no clue as to the location of our enemies. It is possible that you will run into greater strength than even the great priestesses of Mt. Muldoon could handle on their own, and I want you to know that your safety is more important to the Kingdom than the successful completion of this mission.
Afura turned her head back to him and smiled cockily. Her voice was light enough to hide her true feelings, but Londs thought he detected a hint of wariness in the woman's eyes as she continued. Don't worry about us! I think we'll be able to take care of ourselves for a few days, at least. I'll arrange for the smallest, fastest transport we can get, so the journey will be short.
Londs bowed to her formally, Of course. Thank you again, and good luck. The prayers of the royal family are with you.