Author Note: MwahahaBa-con! Which do you wanna hear first , the good news or the bad news?

Bacon: * sweatdropping * The. . . the good news?

Miffy: We got reviews!

Bacon: And the bad news?

Miffy: Read the reviews. . .

Bacon: I hate you Aegis.

Miffy: Heeheeehee! (shoots Bacon)

Bacon: Ack. (falls down)

Miffy: Thank you reviewer people! Have a cookie! (throws packet of biscuits at the computer screen) Um, that's not gonna work, eat a biscuit and pretend I gave it to you . . .






Part One, Chapter 5: One Too Many Mornings



It's a restless hungry feeling/ That don't mean no one no good/ When ev'rything I'm a- sayin'/ You can say it just as good/ You're right from your side/ I'm right from mine/ We're both just one too many mornings/ An' a thousand miles behind ~Bob Dylan





Margarete sits with her chin resting on her hands, staring into the darkness that surrounds her. She was in Dalian, in the small harbourside inn, in the room she was sharing with Yuri, Alice and Zhuzhen for the night. She couldn't sleep. She was too worried about what she should do next. Out of the blue, Kawashima had turned up, posing as a courier. Obviously this was supposed to be a way of providing transport for to Shanghai, but in Margarete's opinion all it did was complicate things. She sighs. To make it all worse, she had unwittingly let slip of her hidden feelings to Zhuzhen: "I don't like this, and I don't like HER'. Why? This wasn't like her. She had been acting very out of character since this mission started. Pondering everything, questioning the right and wrong of every decision. She should just be getting on with her mission. Listening intently, she could hear the three's deep, regular breathing. She frowns, thinking. She felt far too restless to stay in here all night. So she pulls herself to her feet and walks stealthily and quietly towards the door. She gives a last sad look towards the three sleeping bodies in the ancient beds. She wonders what they're dreaming about, who else has slept in these beds, what had brought them too Dalian. Had they been friends? Lovers? Perhaps they'd ended up on a quest too. Maybe, just maybe, fifteen years ago, someone with the same aims had. . . She shakes her head. She couldn't have ideas like this, not in her line of work. Get sentimental and you're out. She swallows, trying to quell the small lump building up in her throat, and opens the old oak door slowly, careful to make no sound.




Margarete walks down to the harbour. She sits down on the rickety weatherworn jetty and swings her legs over the side. Dalian is deserted, all the windows are dark, the citizens asleep. She gazes up to the sky, which is an inky blue-black, a protective blanket over the earth. Tiny stars twinkle, alone in the night. Staring across the bay, she can see the sky has just begun to lighten in the east, to a pale blue that seems transparent, like you could see right through to the other side of the sky if you knew where to look. Maybe
you could, she thinks, and immediately curses herself for having these silly romantic notions. Suddenly she screws her eyes shut and drops her head. She can't ignore the fact she has to make a choice. In all her years of experience with the army she has never come up against anything as hard as this. But the Margarete of only a week ago would have found it an effortless task. She'd have stuck to the mission, it's the only thing to do, nothing matters as much as the mission. Not love, not innocent's lives, nothing. That was what the army drummed into you. But she'd heard Alice's story, and there was no doubt at all that she'd been telling the truth. And Yuri had spoken in his sleep. Only a sentence. But the pure terror and pain in his voice had touched her heart. The words were true, dreams didn't lie. And she trusted this pair far more than she trusted Kawashima. She had been putting that fact out of her head for some time, but it was true. Kawashima just treated everything like an everyday job. No feelings involved, no feelings to get in the way of the country's progress. To her it was all just her occupation. To shoot a man who was only there because he needed money for his wife and children, or because his government had called him up. They came to the army hoping to be heroes. And they didn't even die in battle, they were shot by their superior. One job, then you die, no hanging around or you might spill secrets. All these lives gone. Because of some job. Lives gone because of her. Tears prick the inside of her eyelids and she blinks them back, embarrassed even though no one is there to see her. She's strong, she's used to this, she's a spy for fuck's sake, so why is she crying?




Maybe she wasn't meant to be here. Perhaps she should have been someone else.




She found herself wishing she had really been who Yuri and the others thought she was.




Maybe she was meant to be that person. Meant to be her own made-up character. That's who she should have been.





And now it was obvious what she had to do. She couldn't avoid it. Finally, her mind was made up.



Again, she glances upwards. The pretty transparent blue has spread and moved, now it lines the western horizon. most of the sky is pale pastel blue, but in places tinted with fiery orange from the sunrise, casting dark shadows behind the scudding clouds. The faraway mountains across the bay are misty, otherworldly, so far away from all the trouble and conflict. Involuntarily, a shiver passes down her spine. Tuning her head towards the other side of the harbour, she sees a tiny, battered looking fishing boat. Kawashima is standing outside it, awake already. Margarete wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been watching her. She gets up quickly and hurries over.



Kawashima! Look, what are you doing here? I can cope on my own you know. And why did you have to send Chen in? I would have reported in soon-' She stops her angry torrent of words in mid flow and looks at Kawashima in a mixture of despair and frustration. Her head is tilted slightly to one side and her eyes are full of sadness and worry. But even this complex blend of emotions fails to soften Kawashima's heart. She answers in her usual quick, biting tone, like Margarete isn't worth spending her time on.

Malkovich. I am here simply because you appear to be unable to cope alone. Your plane went down over the ocean and as a result you are stranded here with no means of transport.' Her patronising tone enrages Margarete, but she squashes her anger. And Chen was sent in because, well, how was I supposed to know you would sign in? Anything could have happened.'

You could have left it a little longer. It'd hardly been a day since I last spoke to you. And now you've told someone else about the mission, so -'

Don't worry about it. Chen has been eliminated.'

That's what I am bothered about!' Margarete explodes. You knew you were going to kill him!! Why did you do that?!'


Kawashima ignores her and calmly walks onto the boat, the hard heels of her boots tapping a rythym on the rotting wooden boards. Her indifference infuriates Margarete so much that she digs her nails into the palms of her hands. Without even realising it, she draws blood.



For the first time, Margarete notices another person has been witness to the conversation. A tall man, dressed in a dark green army uniform. He has short dark hair, a strong jawline and a firm, set expression on his thin lips. He is unsure of whether to follow Kawashima or to remain where he was. He hangs around awkwardly. Margarete turns to face him, raising her eyebrows.

So, what's your name? And why're you on this mission?' she asks, having to purposefully soften her voice to avoid sounding unreasonably cross.

S-sergeant Kato, ma'am. I-I'm working for Kawashima. . .' His voice is deep, and you would expect it to speak confidently, but he sounds nervous. Margarete reckons working in close contact with Kawashima would shred any newcomer's nerves. Kato decides not to follow Kawashima and stands stiffly. Maragrete scans the horizon for any signs of the others arriving. The port is beginning to bustle with the first traders and fishermen of the day, but nothing to suggest Yuri, Alice or Zhuzhen are awake and ready to go. She begins to grow anxious, and paces the jetty nervously, thinking up every little thing that may have gone wrong, why they weren't there. She does her best to clear her head of these insignificant worries. There's no chance any of them would have happened anyway, she repeats this over and over inside her head, and immediately checks herself. What is happening to me?, she wonders. I'm going to pieces. I need to get a grip.

Thankfully for her, the trio appear, hurrying down, Yuri in the lead as usual.

Aren't we done yet?' asks Margarete, relieived to see them again. Let's go.'

Kato recognises them. it's obvious Kawashima has let him know a great deal of her opinion of them, marketed as fact. H-Hey! The boss told me all about you!' There are undertones of wariness in his voice. Are you ready to leave?'

Yeah, let's push off,' replies Yuri nonchalantley, unaware of all the time and energy that had been put into getting him to utter these words.

Okay, all aboard!' calls Kato, rather too enthusiastically. But his eagerness did appear somewhat forced. Margarete follows the party on board, clenching her fists and building her resolve to put the results of her previous decision into action.










Whaddaya think she decided to do? Anyway, the real issue that's annoying me is HOW THE HELL DOES EVERYBODY TALK TO EACH OTHER? I mean, fine, Margarete would speak a lot of languages, being a spy. Yuri would speak Japanese, Chinese and possibly Russian. Zhuzhen would speak Chinese , Halley would speak only English, Alice would speak English, French and Latin (probably) and Gawd only knows what languages Keith would speak. He might have learned a few being nobility. But does that mean Margarete would have to translate for everyone, cos that could be awkward for Yuri and Alice, hem-hem. Does ANYONE have an answer? Because I have decided this means they are all speaking Ancient Greek, but that seems unlikely.