::Chapter Two::
I still say these darn caves are too humid. Whew! I feel like I'm back in the Kijo hot springs. Masamichi Fujisawa scrambled over the top of a large boulder, and skidded down the other side. His feet landed in a small pool of water, and the miner's lantern strapped to his forehead cast an eerie orange glow over a small clearing in the forest of rocks and deposited minerals.
Hey Makoto! Hurry up! I think I found our campsite for the evening! No sooner had Fujisawa found a dry patch to sit down in did Makoto's bushy black hair appear at the top of the same boulder, along with a heavy wheezing sound and, at length, a pitiful groan.
Sensei, are we there yet? I feel like we've been climbing for days already. Makoto struggled mightily to overcome the same obstacle that his sensei had practically lept over, then tumbled down the other side and landed with something less than aplomb in the puddle at the bottom.
You know, Fujisawa said as he removed a water skin from his pack and opened the top, it is awfully warm down here. I always thought that caves were supposed to be ice cold. Eh. He took a long drink from the skin, then held it out for Makoto, who grabbed it and took a long pull of his own.
We might be near a geothermal vent, or a magma flow. That would also explain the humidity. Makoto wiped a small dribble from his chin, then continued. At least we won't have any problems finding clean water to drink. All this condensation should be free of any bacteria.
Fujisawa snorted. You should know better by now; the first rule of hiking is to purify everything you drink. I am not carrying you out of here if you get sick and we have to leave.
Despite his exhaustion, Makoto chuckled. You're right, sensei. Well, are you ready to eat?
I thought you'd never ask! Fujisawa replied, and they dug out their camping gear and began to prep their meal - cooked and packaged, according to a sticker on the box, With Loving Care and Quality Ingredients from Roshtaria's Own Shinonme Diner.
After every last grain of rice and sliver of carrot - or what passed for carrots in El Hazard - had been consumed, the pair shut off their headlamps and bedded down for the night. The heat was too great for sleeping bags to be of much use, so they laid out on their pads in their boxers and fell asleep almost immediately.
A few hours later, however, Makoto was awakened by something that he'd never expected in this hot and muggy cave. A tiny, almost imperceptable zephyr of cold, dry air blew across his face, and after he realized that it wasn't a dream, he sat up and reached for his lamp.
A peircing orange glow, dim by topside standards but blinding in this land of perpetual darkness, illuminated their camp site. The cool air lingered over his hand for a second, then vanished, and Makoto began crawling along the ground in the direction the air had come from.
His hand slipped and knocked over a small rock, and Fujisawa stirred from his sleep.
Wuah? Is that you, Makoto?
It's me, sensei.
Whaddarya doin?
Looking, for... Makoto paused, then crawled off into a small crevice between two boulders, and the feeble light of his lamp disappeared.
Wait, Makoto! Looking for what? Fujisawa reached for his own lamp and flicked it on, then followed Makoto between the rocks.
Fujisawa found his student crouched in front of a small ruler-straight crack in the solid rock face of the cavern, and from this crack a faint blue glow was seeping into the darkness, along with a miniscule current of cool dry air.
Fujisawa asked. Makoto, what do you think it could be?
Makoto put his hand on the crack, and traced it down into the dusty floor. I don't know. It almost feels like there should be an access point around here somewhere...
Access to what?
I don't know. Makoto was diggging into the dirt as far as he could, clearing away a small spot at the base of the crack. Then, his fingers struck something solid.
Makoto shouted, then proceeded to clear away the remaining dirt around a small blue orb. The top half was just sticking up out of the ground, and the rest was buried beneath solid granite. Makoto said reluctantly, shall we find out where this leads?
Fujisawa was still staring dumbly at the glowing blue fissure. I suppose, that's what we came here for.
Makoto touched his hand to the orb and closed his eyes, and despite the high probability that it hadn't been seen in millennia, it responded by glowing gently.
After a second the glow ceased, and the ground beneath their feet began to rumble. Huge boulders shifted in their place, dust choked the air, and the pair scrambled out of the rocks just as one of the boulders collapsed right behind them. When they reached their campsite, they turned to watch the wall in front of them open up.
The door stopped moving, but the dust it had kicked up was nearly blinding. Makoto and Fujisawa wrapped a cloth around their faces and coughed up what they could, but in the stagnant air of the cavern it seemed to take hours for the dust to settle.
When it did, a stronger blue glow revealed a corridor behind the door, identical to the ones that ran through the Eye of God like steel veins.
****
This is getting to be a bad habit, Afura said sagely as she watched Shayla down another glass of something awful.
Ya know, Shayla replied, slowly, it seems to me that a certain missus has enough to take care of on her own plate without trying to steal food from her friends's too. Shayla opened her eyes wide over her glass and stared at Afura to try and make the point stick, but all it produced from Afura was a stifled giggle.
What? Why are you so depressed, anyway? I thought you liked Makoto, not John. Afura reached for the bottle, but Shayla grabbed it away from her.
Nuh uh! S'mine. Bee-sides, that's not it. I figgured, out of the three of us, you'd be the last one to settle down.
Afura grew suddenly cold. What? Who says I'm settling down? And why not?
Oh come on, Shayla slurred, 'Ice Queen!' You're about as warm as waterfall in winter. Phbt, hee hee hee hee! This was, for some drunk reason, incredibly funny to Shayla, and it was some minutes before she had recovered enough to finish off her bottle. This time, at least, she'd had the sense to stay out of public, and this corner of the Palace gardens was never crowded.
Well, this routine is getting old, Afura said, suddenly fed up. I'm getting tired of always coming to cheer you up when you're too depressed to think straight, and I don't much care for your insults. You're a grown woman and a priestess to boot, and if you're too immature to deal with your own feelings by now, then you'll get no help from me.
Shayla sat there, shocked into silence, and watched Afura get up and walk away. Accomplishing the kind of mood swing only a drunk can manage, bitter tears began to fill her eyes, for Afura was right; she was being selfish and immature, and it was pathetic that the only place she could find solace from her feelings was a bottle.
Wait! Affy, I'm sorry! Afura! Shayla yelled, but her friend didn't even look back at her. She went to stand up, to go after Afura and convince her that she was wrong, but Shayla's legs weren't working right, and she misjudged her own weight and fell over onto the grass.
Pathetic. She sat back up against the stone bench, took a swig straight from the bottle, and cried herself to sleep in the garden.
The next morning, everyone gathered in the balcony overlooking the western gallery, where Fatora's heavily armed squadron of cutters and cruisers was preparing to leave. It seemed as though the entire Air Corps had turned out for the event, and every servant in the Palace was busy running around doing something.
Despite her outer calm, Rune fretted. A million different things could go wrong with this mission, not the least of which was Fatora, but to her mind this was still, ultimately, the right thing to do. Nanami had been given another week to recover, and was now being sent out with Fatora (quite against her wishes). John would stay behind and hopefully protect the palace.
One thing was different about these cutters. There was a metal ring around the hull of each ship, and as the sails were filled again with an opaque sheet of energy, a dome of similar appearance was generated from the ring. Over Fatora's cruiser it was almost totally white, and from the deck Nanami stared in amazement.
Hey Londs, is this like some kind of shield or something?
Londs replied, we have modified our sail technology to provide a measure of protection against air-based attack. This shield will withstand several direct hits from one of their bombs.
That makes me feel so much better. Nanami considered this for a minute. There was plenty of light getting through the shield to illuminate the busy deck, where Nanami also took in the rather large number of guns that had been installed since her last royal cruise, but aside from a few shadows that crossed it the shield was totally opaque. She looked up again, and gave voice to a concern that immediately crossed her mind. Wait a minute; how am I supposed to see out of this thing if we get attacked?
Londs pointed upward, to a crow's nest situated just below the notch where the main sail was attatched to it's mast. You will direct our defensive fire from that position. It is well protected, should the Phantom Tribe realize that we can see them.
That makes me feel so much better, Nanami repeated with bitter amusement. Should the procession fall under attack it's defense rested soley on her shoulders, as if the safety of the royal family weren't enough to worry about. She sat down on the deck and slumped over.
Londs could taste her weariness from a distance, but he made himself smile as he spoke to her. Do not worry. Come, I must show you how to use the sighting equipment.
Nanami looked up at him, and in a valliant effort to match Londs's jovial attitude, forced a smile onto her own lips.
Allright girl, she told herself sternly, we're on our way. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back to our old life. Or at least, the one we have here.
Just as Nanami was walking past the gangplank that moored the cruiser to the palace gallery, she noticed another passenger boarding.
Hey, Afura! I didn't know you were coming too!
Afura stepped onto the deck of the cruiser lightly, and smiled at the porter who gathered up her single bag. Yes, I can sense disturbances in the wind currents from miles away, and if anything in the air tries to stop us, well, they'll be in for a surprise.
Nanami ran straight up to Afura, and the zeal with which she embraced the priestess nearly caused Afura's face to turn blue.
Oh thank goodness! I can't tell you how relieved I am that someone else is here to help! Thank you so much!
Afura returned the hug, and upon regaining her breath, said No problem. It's the least I can do for the royal family, not to mention a good friend.
said Nanami, hey, does John know you're coming?
At this Afura unexpectedly blushed, and began fidgiting with her hands. Uh, yeah, we said goodbye.
Nanami's eyes rolled towards the heavens. Oh my gosh, you two are so timid! Why don't you just admit you've got the hots for each other and get it over with?
We're not, I mean, we are, but... Afura fumed, then sputtered. Oh Nanami, you're right. I always thought I'd be flying solo, but things are far more complicated now.
Nanami put an arm around Afura's shoulders and led her towards the below decks hatch. It's okay. Hey, we've got a little time before they're ready to get this boat off the ground. How's about we have a little heart to heart?
Afura smiled. That would be nice.
The two women crossed the wooden deck and went below, and after another thirty minutes of hurried provisioning and systems checks, HMS Fatora the Un-Merciful floated away from her moorings and into the sapphire sky.
****
The task of cristening the new-build cruisers of the Royal Rostarian Air Corps had fallen to Fatora, since Rune's duties as head of state in wartime left her little time for such trifles.
So it was that the cruisers HMS Fatora's Revenge, Royal Ire, and Alielle's Fury accompanied the Un-Merciful on her mission, and the escort vessels HMS Floristica, Ancient's Rage, Mystic, Holy Flame, and, quite to the dislike of both the poor victims, Sir Londs the Bold and Nanami the Glorious.
So it was also that immediately after the last of the escorts had left the ground, a Phantom Tribe spycraft hovered in the clouds for a few moments, then came hard about and returned to the Bugrom Hive to make it's report.
Oh, such easy targets! Didn't they learn anything from the last time I obliterated them? Jinnai's amusement had produced a lazy smirk of confidence, and he wore it like a crown. You have the means, of course?
The Phantom pilot nodded noncomittantly. My squadron can deal with them easily enough. Do you want prisoners?
No, I only want wreckage! WHA UAH HA HA HA HA UHA HA HA HA WAH HA HA!
This time, the heat was easier to deal with. For starters, they weren't crossing the Desert of Bleached White Bones in a bid to get to the hottest and most miserable city, in Fatora's considered opinion, in all of El Hazard. Instead, they cut across the endless rolling hills and fields of the grasslands that supplied much of the Kingdom's produce and timber, and the idyllic scenery of vast well-kept farmland and grazing livestock was interrupted only by trees.
It was all very peaceful, but Nanami was on guard. Long stretches of blissful quiet, in her experience, were often broken up by disasters. For now, though, the sun shone brilliantly over the lands before her, and from her post in the lookout nest Nanami could actually recline a little and watch the clouds roll by.
Just as she managed a contented sigh, something in those clouds caught her eye. It was difficult to pinpoint, because it was something so very familiar. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that it shouldn't be there, and it was another minute before she realised with a start that what she'd seen was perfectly normal. For earth.
We have the target in sight. Overflight completed. The pilot spoke into a boom mic at his chin, and the mechanical reply came through crystal clear.
Confirm presence of royal escort.
Acknowledged, command. Stand by. The fighter dropped abruptly and slowed to a crawl, still to far away for the targets to possibly hear, but close enough to get a good visual through the scope.
Comfirmed, target is the royal cruiser Un-Merciful. Request permission to proceed.
Stand by.
The pilot had managed to keep any hint of annoyance out of his voice. This was the first time in centuries that the Phantom Tribe had dared bring it's tiny yet powerful military above ground, and despite their relative lack of recent experience, the entire Military Authority had displayed a great eagerness to be about the task of destroying the Roshtarian's amusing attempt at arming themselves. The command staff was still working out the kinks in a system which hadn't seen use in over 600 years, so some delays were to be expected.
You have permission. Repeat, you have permission to eliminate the target.
The pilot's mouth twitched upward, and he began passing orders to the other fighters in his wing.
Londs was in an understandable, if infuriating state of confusion. What do you mean,
Like the lines in the sky that jets leave, that look like little white stitches! Can't you see them? Nanami was pointing straight up.
Londs squinted into the bright blue sky, then shook his head. I cannot. Perhaps they are hiding this trail from us. Can you tell how far away they are?
Nanami looked up again, then said No, I can't. Afura?
The priestess closed her eyes and seemed to concentrate with great effort. Then, suddenly, she smiled. Yes, I can feel them. There seem to be about a dozen, they're, wait, how are they going so fast?
They're using engines like John and Makoto's, only much more powerful. There's no way we can outrun them, Nanami stated stoically.
Afura's smile became a deadly grin of anticipation, the kind of look a warrior gets before plunging headlong into another of the battles that are his life's blood.
Well then, I guess we'll just have to fight them, she said, as she gathered the winds about her to prepare for the assault.
****
Both men were aware that they hadn't moved for a good four or five minutes, and both were aware that after years of living in the world of endless adventures they had damned well better be used to encountering things of a fantastical nature.
It was still quite a shock, though. Makoto began to step forward into the hallway, but Fujisawa laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.
Wait a minute, Makoto. How do you know it's safe?
A few seconds passed before Makoto responded. I can't explain it, sensei. I still don't know just how my ability works, but I can actually feel something like a signal running beneath the floors here. It's more powerful than anything I've ever felt before, even more powerful than the Eye of God.
Fujisawa stared into the corridor as though he wished to see what Makoto had. Hang on a second, he said, then went back to the camp site. It was the work of but a moment to gather their meager posessions together, then he and Makoto set off into the hallway, side by side.
A faint humming sound, like an electrical generator, was eminating from the far end of the hallway, and it was towards this sound that the two made their way. No particle of dust nor speck of dirt had gathered on the cold steel floor, and the air they breathed reamined cool and fresh, as though they were walking through a forest on a cool autumn day.
As they approached the end of the hallway, a computer interface terminal loomed against the wall. A blue orb was set just below a black glass pane, and as soon as Makoto touched his hand to the orb both objects came to life instantly, and he closed his eyes.
It's, a computer, Makoto said distantly, his mind in two places at once, some sort of core system that the ancients used. It's, wait a second...
Red figures began to blink across the screen, and surges of current coarsed over Makoto's body.
It's trying to keep me out, it says... Makoto spoke through clenched teeth, but just as Fujisawa moved to pull him away, the sparks and red lights ceased. Instead, innumerable figures, much smaller and in green, began to flow over the screen like a wave. Makoto opened his eyes again, but did not speak.
What is it, Makoto? asked Fujisawa.
I don't believe it. The computer, it's alive, somehow.
Makoto nodded slightly, eyes transfixed upon the screen. The security program, it was automated. But Ira says that it's been more than three thousand years since someone has spoken to it, so it let me in.
That's it's name. It says that it was used by the ancients to control their palaces, their communications and security, until it became self-aware. Ira learned what consciousness is, so the ancients removed it from such meanial work and gave it a mainframe and memories to work from. Ira learned so fast that soon, it was devising new scientific theories that advanced their culture far beyond what anyone had ever hoped for. It says that, oh my God.
Fujisawa seemed to be stuck between awe and impatience. What, Makoto? What does it say?
Makoto gulped. It says, Ira says, that it designed Ifurita...
Fujisawa's jaw dropped. But Makoto hadn't finished, and his voice shook with disbelief as he removed his hand from the orb and turned to face his teacher.
And the Eye of God.