::Chapter Eight::
Oooooooohhhhhh, why do I feel like I got clubbed in the back of my head? Nanami's first words upon awakening were slow and ill-formed. She smacked her lips a couple of times to try and clear away the film that seemed to coat the inside of her mouth, but did not open her eyes yet.
Because you did, Makoto told her.
Ugh. How long?
You've been out for six hours, at least. I stopped counting, and Alielle finally fell asleep. Are you okay?
Nanami replied indignantly, I've been shot. Why can't I breathe?
She was answered by Lyn, who sat up from his position curled on her chest and walked delicately up to her face. He began rubbing his head against her chin, and his deep purr was as loud as a buzzsaw that seemed to rumble through her very bones.
Ah! That tickles! she exclaimed, and giggled uncontrollably for a few seconds before she had to push Lyn's head back down against her chest. Owwww, sorry, my head feels like a water balloon.
Lyn's purring seemed to stir Alielle from her sleep, and when she opened her eyes it was obvious that she wanted to jump up on top of the bed and squeeze Nanami until she burst. But that just wouldn't do for a patient in a hospital bed, so she settled for squeezing Nanami's arm.
Oh, big sister, you're up! I was so worried, you have no idea! When I saw you... get... oh! She broke down and started sobbing into the robe Nanami had been changed into. Nanami tried to sit up to get a look around the room, opening her eyes at last.
The two princesses were stirring from their sleep next to Makoto on her right, and the Fujisawas were there, with Miz and Mika napping on one of the other beds and Mr. Fujisawa propped up against it. Dr. Stalubaugh was still dozing, and Londs had parked himself right in front of the entrance to the infirmary. Rune was the first to wake completely, and when she did she hurried to Nanami's side, all pretensions at royal dignity forgotten.
Oh, Nanami, you're awake! Thank God you're allright, the medics were uncertain how long you would be unconscious. I can't, I mean, I don't know how, we can ever... The moment proved too powerful for words, and Rune simply embraced Nanami, content to let her actions speak for her.
Nami! Nami okay. She awake! Mika's sqeaky voice piped up from her bed, and Mr. Fujisawa woke up just in time to keep her from trying to jump off the bed herself. He grabbed her by the waist and carried the little girl over to Nanami's bed, where upon squeezing in between her and Alielle, she exclaimed again, You awake!
By now even the doctor was up, and it was Makoto's turn to comfort his oldest friend as emotion took over completely. Nanami was surrounded - mobbed, really - by all the people that she had come to care for so deeply on this world, and not a word was said as she wept for all the pain and sorrow they had yet to overcome.
****
A distraction? What kind of distraction? Jinnai's nerves sang with the tension that had been mounting slowly as dawn approached, and it showed in his painfully precise tone of voice.
Garble warble farble, replied Groucho.
An assassination attempt?! On who?
What do you mean I don't know?' Well, it's not like there's anyone else at the palace that those blue-skinned weirdos would care about, so they must have been after the princess bitches. A small cloud of steam began to build around his head as his temper took hold. He clenched both fists in anger. Those bastards have no right to keep information like this secret from me! Uuuurragh, we don't have time now to properly punish them, but the second we've crushed the Southern Stronghold I'll have all their heads on a platter before me!
Warble farble?
Jinnai reached into his breast pocket, withdrew his comb, and tamed his hair into a neat cap upon his head. You're right, Groucho. We've got a war to win, after all, and our sword has more than one edge to it. Then he turned around from his position watching the entrance to the vast cavern, and addressed the mass of Bugrom before him as the first light of dawn crept over the hills at last.
Troops! ADVANCE!!
Caldan was one of the smaller nations bordering the Southern Seas, graced by a series of inland fjords that would have impressed the folks who put up New Zealand. The resulting floodplains were the best place in the world to grow the floating grain paddies that produced the most highly-sought textile in the land, Caldan rice silk. Nobles from every nation prized it, and the rulers of Caldan had used this primary trade to build an economy second only to that of Roshtaria's, which made it strategically vital to the health of the Alliance.
It was also the reason for the positioning of over 16,000 troops of the Royal Army around the capital city of Erfon in the event of any attack, whether by Bugrom or the few warlords that inhabited the less-hospitible desert regions to the east. Very little consideration was given by the Army to the interior security of Caldan, since their vast merchant marine and police force had been keeping watch over the established trade routes for nearly two centuries. And so the bulk of the Royal Army's attention was focused out and to the east, which meant that they were in almost exactly the wrong spot when the attack came.
There it is! Signal the bombers to begin their run! A small messenger bug lept from the platform and flew into the air to pass the orders, and Jinnai started to stand, but the shifting tide of Bugrom that surrounded and swept out before him made that impossible. They'd run over a few sentry posts already, and the path to the heavily fortressed capital city was unyeilding to say the least. Erfon was surrounded by trecherous mountains to the north and the beautiful wide ocean to the south, and the few passes that were wide enough to move regular troops through were well guarded against periodic raids.
But the Bugrom didn't need nice neat roads carved out of the moutainside; they simply rode down the cliffs and hills on their incredibly sharp claws, formed of almost ten centimeters of diamond-hard biopolymer composits. Rock and soil fell away from the advancing horde in an avalanche even as they rode it into the valleys that sheltered the outskirts of the city.
At first, it felt like a distant earthquake. The few people that lived in the forest brought potted plants off the windowsills and blew out oil lamps, prepared to ride it out. But the rumbling never died down, it only grew louder, until the Bugrom horde swept by the houses in a hideous tide of blue carapaces and incomprehensible war cries.
Before they reached the outskirts the first of the bombs were dropped, from the flyers overhead that the Phantom Tribe had concealed, awaiting the order that Jinnai had sent out. They fell by the dozen, and as incredulous shouts and screams rose up from the populace the Royal Army scurried to their bunkers, only to have them blasted away.
A hole in the wall surrounding Erfon was blown open by the bombs, and the Army had just begun to reorganize themselves when the first of the bugs began to pour through it.
Because the forcepikes were a relatively new development, most of the troops were still armed with the nearly useless rifles left over from the last war, and these were the first to die as their blasts were shrugged aside and the Bugrom mowed them down in droves. The pockets of troops that wielded the forcepikes fared rather better, managing to kill one or two of the advance units before the main body caught them. But the sheer speed of these smaller warrior bugs took them by surprise, and divided as they were by the initial assault, they were quickly overrun.
As soon as they were inside the city the bombing ceased, then began again over the Caldan Navy's docking slips. Ship after ship suffered damage, and many were sunk in their moorings, their fire crews fighting desperately to stem the tide of destruction and save what they could of their ships.
The fighting continued for some time, as small groups of soldiers were able to gather amid the ruins of their headquarters. But their counterattacks were short lived, and five hours after the first bombs had fallen, the Bugrom quickly - and, as witnesses would later claim, quite literally - vanished. When they left, there were less than two dozen survivors from the army that had just this morning called Caldan their home.
****
The hauntingly beautiful voice was clearly audible outside John's quarters, and the language that it sang in was one that no one in the Temple could hope to understand. The language of the music, however, spoke surely about the mood that the listener was in, and as it drifted through the open window Qawoor approached the shack with mix of trepidation and honest curiosity.
She reached for the handle to the door, but stopped halfway when she noticed that it was already open a crack. Gently she pushed the door back open, and the sound of that sad, sad voice surrounded her as though she were in a concert hall. She stopped in the frame of the open door and let the music, backed by a few string instruments that she couldn't name immediately, wash over her for a second before she noticed John.
He was sitting at the small table beneath one of the open windows. He had his back to the door, and seemed to be staring out across the mesa into the valley below. Obviously, he hadn't heard Qawoor come in, so she waited for the song to end, and gently cleared her throat.
John lept out of his chair, knocking his right knee painfully against the underside of the table, and sat down again quickly. He seemed to wipe something off his face with brutal haste, then turned around and smiled. Another song began to play.
he said through a sniffle, what's up Qawoor?
Even for someone as perenially naieve as she, Qawoor could tell that he'd been crying, which made her feel very awkward indeed. She shuffled her feet and clasped her hands behind her back, and tried to keep her eyes focused on the floor.
I'm sorry, John, I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll leave. She started to turn around.
John admonished, it's allright, really. Come. Sit down. I don't have much to offer in the way of comfort. As if to prove the point he hastily threw a small pile of clothing that had been covering the only other chair in his quarters onto his bed, and brought it around to the opposite side of the table.
Thank you. Qawoor was about to sit down when she noticed what had been making that haunting music, a strange array of devices was strewn over the table, connected by black and red wires. One of the devices was blinking, and it was this one that John fiddled with for a second. He turned a dial, and the music around them became much quieter. Qawoor looked at him, an unspoken question visible on her face.
It's from the Mustang, John explained. I eventually got so homesick that I flew back to Floristica one afternoon and removed the stereo and two speakers. If I didn't know any better I'd say those engineers from Royal Security were getting ready to build a car of their own, he added almost to himself.
And this is what it does? Qawoor asked in amazement, What a wonderful device! Does it play anything you want to hear?
John smiled. Yeah, anything I have on CD. My father thought I should have at least one classical album with me, since the rest of my collection is pretty much rock. I brought all of it back from the palace. I was going nuts to hear something familiar.
And what's this called?
This one is Ave Maria.' I feel silly, but I don't know much about it beyond the name. I think it was in an opera or something, John added thoughtfully.
Could it play Altaran music? Qawoor asked again.
Ah, not unless they've released anything on CD lately. Who are they?
Altara was my homeland, Qawoor replied quietly, we had the best traln players. I used to sneak out of my home at night and listen to them play in the park across the road, when the weather was warm enough. Did you ever do that in your home land?
John paused in thought. Actually, the first concert I ever went to was Aerosmith, and someone threw upon my shoes just after the opening act. I have their latest album, at least, what I can only assume is their latest...
His voice trailed off, lost in thought, and Qawoor hesitated for a second. Then she put a hand on his arm, and said, You miss your home, don't you?
Beyond words, he replied instantly. At first, I guess there was so much going on that I couldn't really stop to think about it. But today, I was just thinking how pretty the leaves are here since Autumn's coming, and what it would look like back home if it were October. His voice was getting husky, and as he continued tears began to trickle down his cheeks slowly.
Every time I go to Floristica now, there's this pass through the mountains that I take...
Lannels' Steppes, Qawoor interjected, there are a lot of other roads that lead into the city, but the approach on that path is obscured by the cliffsides until you round the last corner, and then...
The whole city appears before you, like the doors of some great museum thrust open to reveal a beautiful sculpture, John finished for her. There was something similar back home. Pittsburgh's pretty much surrounded on all sides by hills, except for the three rivers that converge at the tip of the city. So to get to it, you have to drive over or, in some places, through the hills. And one of these tunnels opens up right over one of the rivers, so for the whole length of the tunnel you can't see anything, then all of a sudden it's all in front of you. Like if you blink, you'd miss it, and it's gorgeous. Especially at night, when all of the skyscrapers are lit up. It's just, it's like nothing you have on this world. No offense.
Qawoor smiled sadly. It sounds lovely.
John sighed, then dried his eyes with the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing. God, look at me. I probably sound rediculous, like a little kid or something.
No, not at all, Qawoor rushed to reassure him. I miss my home, too, but I can always go back if I want to. I can't imagine what it's like for you, not knowing if you'll ever make it back. Have you tried talking to Makoto, or Nanami? I know they still miss Earth. Maybe they could help you.
John sqeezed her hand and smiled. he said, I might. And, thanks for listening.
They shared for one more moment in the symphony that was still coming from the speakers, and then John seemed to gather himself under control. So. I take it that we're ready to leave? he asked.
Qawoor nodded. Miss Afura has the ship ready. We had to procure something larger than we would normally use, since, well, we can't all share the same quarters. Her cheeks heated ever so slightly, and John couldn't help but laugh at her embarassment.
It's allright, he said, I'm sure we'll work something out. I've always wanted to sleep out on the deck of a moving ship, beneath the stars...
A thoughtful look crossed Qawoor's face suddenly. Um, John, I don't know if you'll really be able to do that.
Mm? Why not? he asked.
Mother Moram said that since the Phantom Tribe might have spies watching us, that priestess Cerin would have to cloak our entire journey, at least most of the way. Wouldn't that mean that we won't be able to see anything?
At that news John produced a very put-off look. Well damn. Maybe once we're out over virgin forest we can drop it for a little while. Oh, no.
What is it? Qawoor asked.
John said at length, it's just that Cerin can be snippy even when she hasn't had to concentrate for twelve hours straight.
Qawoor's eyes grew very big. You don't think she'll be, difficult, do you?
he replied dryly, I think she'll be Cerin. Besides, I should be able to help out in that department, anyway. Then he stood up, flexed the right knee that he'd hit against the table, and smiled at her.
I'm already packed up. Let's go!
The acolyte sitting in the Circle of Light's main study area sighed as she watched the - in her opinion - unnecissarily comabt-oriented Muldoon Priestesses leave, with that nuisance teenage boy in tow, although there was some small comfort in the fact that they were taking Cerin along for their protection. The light around the edges of the small observational field she had created flickered and swirled, but the image it presented to her was clear as day. They were taking the Temple's second-fastest sail cutter with them, too, which spoke to the importance of their mission.
With a wave of her hand the image vanished. The acolyte moved to gather up her materials, when suddenly another image appeared before her. It was one of their lesser priestesses, hiding among the white stone of what looked like the ruins of an outpost, or possibly a city. She was bleeding, a thin smoke was rising out of the rubble around her, and she wasted no time as she acknowledged the acolyte and began to in the Temple's sign language.
Her motions were hampered by what was obviously a dislocated shoulder, but the meaning came through clearly. The acolyte's eyes widened, and she signaled to the other woman to wait while her instructor was summoned, then left the room at a run.
Well, shoot, that was easy enough. John stared with only slight apprehension at the impenetrable black curtain that surrounded the cutter, and the dull gleam that came from his own lamp.
Cerin nodded with satisfaction as she stepped back from him. We should be completely invisible now. Not even another priestess would be able to get through this, much less the Phantom Tribe. They'll have no idea at all that we're coming.
Uh huh, replied John, so all we have to do for a few days is sit tight and hold our course? Without being able to see anything else outside this? he gestured at the inky black wall.
Our compass should be unimpared, Afura pointed out, and Qawoor and I can get a sense for where we are by following the air currents and any nearby bodies of water. We'll be perfectly allright, there's no need to worry.
A strong wind whipped across the deck of the cutter as they gathered speed. Afura put her own hand on John's lamp, then reached out in front of them and concentrated. Abruptly the wind stopped, and she released his arm with a tiny smile. They had pleasantly discovered that John was capable of maintaining more than one effect at a time, although no one knew what kind of strain this would place on him in the long term. Despite the shield against the wind, the that Shayla was continuing to light danced and flickered with their own life, casting erratic shadows over the whole ship.
Who said I was worried? John asked in a slightly higher-than-normal voice. I'm not worried, not in the least. Shayla's creating plenty of light, so we can see fine, everythings fine. I'm fine!
You're not afraid of the dark, are you? Afura asked with a mix of surprise and concern.
How old did you say you were? Cerin added.
Of course not! John replied instantly, I'm just, nervous! About what we might find. That's all! I'm going inside.
He turned around and hurried through the small door that led to the living quarters below deck, just as Qawoor emerged from it.
How is everythi- she began, then halted as John rushed to get below where there were many more lights set up. She continued over to the other two priestesses, and her next question was obvious.
What's wrong with John? she asked, and her confusion grew when Afura and Cerin broke out in a giggle, which quickly degraded into all-out laughter.