Part III. Ascension.
ARENA
The huge personnel carrier army helicopter hovered in a deafening roar of its rotor over the holiest of holiest of Sanctuary: Athena's temple, where her statue stood; the statue that was in fact her God Cloth. The chopper descended in order to land, and then, as if a giant hand had caught it, jerked back up.
"Thompson!" cried Sir Frederic, seated next to the pilot, "What are you arsing about for? Begging your pardon, Mrs. Field."
"That wasn't me!" protested the pilot, " Some invisible force has taken us up and is throwing us back...."
"Ilya?"
"Telekinesis. All Gold Saints and quite a few others master it to perfection, though Aries is by far the best at it. Unlike Jabu he wouldn't do it without express orders though."
"Whoever it is, they obviously don't want us to land over there. Find us a spot, will you, Thompson? Everyone alright there in the back?"
"No we bloody well awe not alwight! My bweakfast is twying to join us!" growled Nick, struggling in his flight-harness to regain an upright position. He was not the only one.
They were all there: Mr. and Mrs. Field, their sons, Nick and Ilya.
After some moments spent in shock at the abduction of Skippy and Vimi, Esk had been the first to react to his wife's and sister's disappearance. In a most unscientific fit of hysterics he had grabbed Ilya and, shaking the young Russian, had screamed: "Get her back, do your magic, teleport them back!" His father and uncle had had to hold him tight to prevent him from actually striking the former Cygnus Saint. Auntie Pauline and the girls had dissolved into tears and Jacob had cursed in Russian. Queer had gone deadly pale. And Mrs. Field had quietly turned towards Sir Frederic and announced - no, commanded: "I am going to Greece, to that Sanctuary, and get my daughters back. Have it so arranged."
"Nonsense!" her husband had cried, " If anyone is going there it'll be me. It's far too dangerous, I won't have you risking your life..."
Then all of a sudden, Mrs. Field had turned upon her husband and slapped him.
"Don't even think of leaving me behind!" she had cried, " Vimi isn't just your daughter, she is also mine...." And then she had broken down into tears. Mr. Field had taken her in his arms, comforting her, while over her shoulders he had looked questioningly at sir Frederic.
"Can be done, will be done." had promised the Intelligence Officer, " In fact this is an unexpected windfall. Athena has made a hell of a stupid mistake, kidnapping two of Her Majesty's subjects. Now our government has a good reason to act, along with Australia's, and Belgium's too I would hazard."
"Are you saying, Mountjoy, "began Mr. Field and his eyes glittered dangerously, "Are you saying that the abduction of my daughter, daughter-in-law, and unborn grandchild is a convenient excuse to do what you otherwise would not have done?"
"Of course not. I'm just as appalled by what happened as you are. The thing is...damn it, Hubert, you've been SOE. You know the drill. One must jump on the opportunity when and as it presents itself. I've said it before, short of dropping the Bomb on Sanctuary we don't stand a chance against the Goddess. We've dragged the carpet from under her by exposing Graad, but the real basis of her power we can't touch...we can't even negotiate! However, she's broken her own rules now..."
"Aleksej's broken them, not Athena." had objected Ilya, "There's a difference."
"Athena accepted Aleksej back into Sanctuary. The man himself has confirmed the struggle for power that is currently going on over there at command level. As for the girls... what just happened at last unties one of my hands. Our politicians hate to commit themselves to a cause of uncertain outcome, and in this particular case I can't say I blame them, what with it showing distinct shades of Homer. But now I can wheedle the green light out of them. I can finally do something, that is to say, go to Sanctuary, and demand the return of the girls under threat of action from NATO forces."
"I see. Well, I am telling you this not as an ex-SOE, ex-NATO Intelligence officer, nor indeed as a friend, but as a father who wants his children back: if you go to Sanctuary, I will be coming with you."
"And I!" had cried simultaneously Mrs. Field and Esk.
"Ditto." had said Nick.
"And to complete the jolly picture, I'll come along for the ride." had said Queer with a grin that had no humour in it.
Sir Frederic had been strangely compliant. True resistance to the plan had come from Ilya.
"If it hadn't been for me, nothing of this would have happened. It's me Aleksej wants: he has been spoiling for a fight from the day we met. Please, don't put your lives at risk, any of you. Let me deal with him."
"Suppose you do, suppose you vanquish Aleksej." had said Mr. Field slowly, " What will that prove, apart from that you are the better fighter? It will only continue the pattern you Saints have spun and followed throughout the ages."
"When I vanquish him it will prove that I am right." Ilya had said, desperately repeating the old lie the Saints had lived by. "I will win because I am right."
"Son, there are graveyards full of young people who believed that."
And that had been the final word. Sir Frederic called in the Office to further deal with the situation at Crow's Hall, and then he had whisked them all away on the first flight to Athens. A last minute addition to their company had been Seika. The young Japanese woman had argued that she knew the people of Rodorio and that she could help. There had been no denying her. At once Miho, Sunrei and Jacob had said they'd come too, but to that Uncle Ben had said a firm 'no', telling them that he needed them at the farm, that school would start in ten days and that as their legal guardian he was opposed to their gallivanting off. "I can't keep Seika back, she being of adult age, but you kids still have to do as I tell you." And that had been that.
Their plane had landed in the dark. Olympia Airport was deserted but for them and two taxis, like most Greek cars held together by a string and a prayer, that drove them to the Piraeus, where a kaïke*, lay waiting for them.
"This reminds me of our escape from Japan." Seika had commented, but then Sir Frederic told her that she would not be sailing along. "I've arranged for you to be taken to Rodorio, or at least as near as we can get to it, an then our contact there will come and collect you. Good luck." The others had all wished her the same, and then they had boarded the fishing-boat. It had taken them out to sea, off the coast of Piraeus, where an Aircraft Carrier lay for anchor.
"Good God, Uncle Fred, if this is what you can manage with one hand tied, I wonder what it'll be like when you have both of them free!" Queer had exclaimed. "USS Enterprise? How perfectly fitting."
"Our American friends' contribution to NATO presence. They are on a twenty-four hour call and can be deployed at a moment's notice. Our backup for when things go wrong."
"Optimist!"
"Realist."
A smallish, thickset man with a ruddy face and a genial American manner had greeted them aboard.
"Hi. I'm Commander Mark Lawrence, Navy Intelligence. I guess you folks must be tired out so I'll show you to your quarters that you can get a good night's rest. I'll be briefing you at oh-seven-hundred tomorrow. Ma'am, Captain's compliments, he's left you and your husband his own cabin. If you need anything don't hesitate to ask."
Being aboard a vessel like the Enterprise had reminded Ilya somewhat of his aeroplane hopping adventure. There was the same, lasting throb of engines and smell of fuel and painted metal.
At six in the morning an officer had come to wake them up, and after a hurried breakfast Commander Lawrence had led them into his conference room.
"The situation for the past months has developed as follows: two factions in Sanctuary are vying for Athena's favour. On the one hand you have Aleksej Piotrovitch and the Warriors of Blue Graad, on the other the Virgo Saint and his followers. Satellite surveillance has shown several fights breaking out among supporters of these factions. As a matter of fact it looks more and more like Athena is losing her grip on both. There is a third party however, that serves her alone. This one appears to be led by the new 'pope', Dokho, formerly Libra, with the Golden Saints Taurus and Leo, Silver Saint Aquila and the Japanese bronzes. Virgo commands both the Gemini, Scorpio and Aquarius and the palace guards, and the Dragon Saint, in charge of young trainees, seems to lean more and more to this faction. The others are with Aleksej, except for Aries, who wishes to remain strictly neutral. He can afford this attitude as all parties depend on him to repair their Cloths. However, yesterday morning Aleksej appeared with his two hostages..."
At that, Mrs. Field had choked back an anguished sob. Laying his arm around her and hugging her hard, Mr. Field had asked in a constricted voice: " Are they all right? Have you any way of knowing?"
"We received a last message from our contact concerning them at oh-one-hundred. Apparently Aleksej tried to keep their presence a secret, but Shaka swiftly found out and forced the Blue Warriors to hand them over. He has committed them into the care of Aquarius...."
"Are they well? How are they being treated? Did they hurt them?"
Mrs. Field had rapped out the questions with all the anxiety of a mother who has not slept a wink with worrying over her children. Commander Lawrence had tried to reassure her as best as he could.
"It is certain that they are better off where they are now than with Aleksej. During the night some of the Blue Graad warriors made an attempt to retrieve them which failed. Part of the Aquarius temple has collapsed, as satellite images show, and some warriors have been spotted limping out. At oh-five-hundred the girls were taken to the Scorpio temple: that is the latest news. We expect more from our contact any minute now."
"Are you certain of this 'contact' 's reliability?" had asked Mr. Field quietly.
"Absolutely. You'll appreciate that I cannot divulge its identity, though."
"What about Shun and Ikki?" Ilya had asked.
"The Andromeda and Phoenix Saints, right? We only know of the former. Definitely not Aleksej's man, though he hangs about his sister a lot. Unlikely to be Shaka's. We are not sure which way he'll roll. As for Phoenix, all our sources confirm that Cancer executed him for treachery some time ago. I'm sorry."
"He will return. Phoenix always returns."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence! And you were right. Of course I returned, in fact I already had...those puny Circles of Hades could not hold me back anymore than they could Shiryu. I was lying low, for I did not want anyone to know. That way, when fighting broke out, I had the advantage of surprise. Sorry, little bro', I caused you much grief then."
"It doesn't matter. I too was keeping my head down, for the same reasons. Athena lost me for good when she ordered your execution. I can't understand why it didn't do the same for Shiryu, nor why he went over to Shaka afterwards."
"I do. It was Virgo's complete abandonment of feeling that appealed to him. His own feelings had brought him only pain. More than Old Master Shaka was a man of single-minded drive. My poor Shiryu! If we had not quarrelled, maybe I would still be there for him. I could have helped. Instead, I went off to nurse my own pain and anger, and in so doing I failed him miserably."
For the last time Ilya had appealed to the Family, his family now, to abandon. They had refused. Then an officer had entered the briefing room with a note for Commander Lawrence. The 'Intell' man had read it, and informed them that Seika had safely arrived in Rodorio and that the 'Contact' would attempt speaking with Vimi and Skippy, still in Scorpio's care.
"This means that so far everything is going according to plan." had said Sir Frederic with satisfaction.
"What is the plan, exactly?"
"Good question. What has happened has precipitated proceedings somewhat, but basically it has ever been the idea of having a number of representatives of the International Community negotiate peacefully with Sanctuary. Overtures have been made via Julian Solo and, regrettably, rejected. A team of talented UN diplomats has been formed, and is ready to go to Sanctuary under Commander Lawrence's leadership. Originally, none of you would take part in these talks; however, I've convinced my superiors that your presence will give us a distinct psychological advantage. You will go as our vanguard, so to speak. Remember that we are dealing with orphaned youths. They think of themselves as unwanted. Sanctuary has brainwashed them into believing that, and has become their surrogate home, their Masters father and mother in one, the Saints their family. But deep down, as Ilya has proven, there remains a longing for the comfort of a real home and family. In you they will be confronted with just that, and, what's more, a father and mother who want their children back. Add to that the fact that you have made one of theirs, yours, by adopting Hyoga the former Cygnus Saint. What message will that send out? Only one: there is a life out there for the unwanted. By simply being what and who you are, you can irrefutably expose the Goddess' lies. Don't be diplomatic. Be emotional. You are ordinary people, the kind they have been fighting to save. It is good that they are shown what ordinary life is like, and that you consider them, in the person of Hyoga, as much part of humanity as your own children. Hopefully that way Athena too will be made to understand that humanity can no longer tolerate its young people to be used as weapons in the War between the Gods."
"Is that a good plan? The way Ilya described it, guys like Shaka and Camu have only the greatest contempt for ordinary people and their emotions."
"Precisely. That will contrast nicely with you: the more they proclaim that sort of thing, the more they will show how dehumanised they are. With the present struggle for power going on many Saints are already confused as to where to place their loyalty. Your job is to confuse them further, to destabilise Sanctuary's hierarchy, by offering a radically different set of values from the ones they have been force-fed up to now."
"Great, first we are goats, now we are Fifth Columnists. Do we like it?"
"Do we have a choice?"
Unanimously, the Fields decided they had not. Their minds made up, an hour later they were on their way. Their flight had been uneventful, up to the moment they flew over Athena's temple.
Thompson the pilot was struggling with the controls. "Sir, I've regained mastery over the chopper and am able to land in that flat open space below us."
"Good God man, do you mean that you haven't been in control until now? Damn it, get us down, my wife's terrified enough of flying as it is! " bellowed Mr. Field.
Thompson did his best. Meanwhile Sir Frederic punched up some data on his laptop.
"We have pieced together a map of Sanctuary. The whole place is build around a mountain. Almost at its feet lies a ruined temple that is still accessible to the public; a narrow path along a ravine ribbons up and forks, left to Rodorio, right to Sanctuary's barracks. Beyond and a little above these is where we are: a semi-circular amphitheatre. From there the path continues as a stairway from temple to temple. At the very summit lies the great Hall of the Pope and Athena's temple. It is a pity we could not have landed there, it would have saved us quite a walk."
"They want us to follow the classic scenario." said Ilya. "Anyone who wishes to speak to Athena has to go up the stairway and be challenged by the twelve Gold Saints. Only one who can vanquish them all is worthy to meet the Goddess. The amphitheatre is where the combats are held to select new Saints: Seiya won his Pegasus cloth here. Cassios the other contestant, meant to play with Seiya and chop him to bits, instead, it was he who had his ear cut off."
"Charming. Is that what you were expected to do as well during the Galactic Contest in that 2Oth Century version of the Coliseum? "commented Queer, " The name alone should have set off warning bells to all pacifist and child welfare organisations of the world. A Coliseum is where one held gladiatorial combat in ancient Rome. Hey, for a Greek Goddess Athena has got her mythologies mixed up. She knows bugger-all about history - sorry Pal, I'll wash my mouth out with soap** later, promise- its not Ancient Greek but very much Anno Domini, build by the Flavian Emperors (right, Cap?) to hold those bloody combats -no Pal, I wasn't swearing, they were bloody- so-called 'games' going back to the ancient burial habits of the Etruscans. With these the Romans gave 'bread and plays' to the plebs and patricians bought themselves popularity for the elections. Not remotely Greek at all. Their amphitheatres would bring on orators and drama. Demosthenes, Sophokles, Euripides, Aristophanes and the rest..."
"Ten out of ten, son."
"Yesh, but the Gweeksh wewe no peace-loving pushy-catsh eithew. " said Nick, " Think Alexandew the Gweat."
"He was Macedonian."
"Shpawta? Pewiklesh? Puwe Gweek, no?"
"I won't deny that the hoplites of the Greek cities did not indulge in their annual inter-city wars as much as they did in their sporting events, but keep in mind that Greece is supposed to be the cradle of civilisation. In my book, that does not spell Gladiator. Granted: that bare-fist boxing at their Games was pretty bloody too. Still, Perikles was a contemporary of Socrates.
"Old Shocratesh shtaw pupil wash the young Alcibiadesh, look how he tuwned out. Hawdly a wecommendation."
"Oh, do shut up you two. We all know you are very clever." said Esk irritably, bending his head to avoid the still twisting rotor as he jumped out of the helicopter that had finally set itself to the ground, " Help mother down, why don't you, instead of spouting useless information that impresses no-one."
"Not quite so useless as all that, son." corrected Mr. Field, "The Saints claim to have been instrumental in the downfall of the Roman Empire. Utter nonsense, of course, Rome wasn't built in a day nor did it fall in a day, it was a gradual decline that took a century if not more. Anyway, that modest little claim rings false when it is clear that Sanctuary has copied the very worst of the Romans."
"Oh dear, I hope we won't be thrown to the lions!" said Mrs. Field with a small laugh. During the flight she had been very pale and tense, but her courage had picked up since.
"Only if we come to the fifth temple." said Queer.
"Why the fifth?" his brother asked.
"Leo temple."
"I'm not laughing."
"Just trying to relieve the tension."
They had all left the helicopter now and were taking of their flight-helmets and straightening their clothes while sir Frederic was giving last instructions to Thompson. It was cold and drizzly weather, and they were glad of their Christmas jumpers underneath their jackets. Mr. Field wore his old SOE dress uniform, smelling slightly of the moth-balls it had lain in since he was decommissioned in 1946 and a trifle tight it the waist but otherwise (and to his obvious delight) still a good fit. He had insisted on wearing it, as it would show the Saints that a warrior could also be a father and a family man. Sir Frederic had approved even though wearing a uniform that held no official status anymore was most irregular.
"Shomeone'sh coming!"
Someone was. A grey figure in a hooded cloak was descending the steps towards the Arena. A shiver of déjà-vu ran down Ilya's spine. For a split-second he considered calling on his cloth again. He was beginning to feel more and more like Hyoga, and did not like it. "This is how it all began, two years ago. Between the arrival of the Sagitta Saint and the shooting of Saori/Athena only a few minutes elapsed, the time to walk from the Arena to the Stairway. Just a few minutes during which we thought that the affair could be resolved by peaceful negotiation, just as we think now..." A wave of fear and foreboding swept over him.
"Sagitta, third smallest constellation in the sky, south of Vulpecula, north of Aquila; the Arrow of Hercules, hunting birds, heading straight towards Cygnus, the Swan..."
This time the arrow would be for him, he was sure of it. He would not be able to protect his family. Nothing could save them, the plan was doomed from the start, it was madness, Athena would never listen. All the Gods ever did was fight, fight, fight. All the Saints understood was violence.
"Cloth...must call upon my cloth...it's still in that duck-pond in Brussels...if I call it now and strike first maybe I can...no! I promised! I will not! Never again!!"
Unaware of Ilya's inner struggle, Sir Frederic and the family had automatically followed the robed figure beckoning them to the Stairway leading to the Aries temple.
"Dorian style, wouldn't you say, Esk? You're married to the expert. Archaic period? Skippy will be so happy here she may not want to leave."
"I'm still not laughing."
Their guide pointed at the structure rising in the distance. "If you wish to speak to Athena you must climb the stairs and pass the temples. Each of course is guarded by a Gold Saint. But you will not reach the first step! I, June, Bronze Saint of the constellation of Chamaeleon, will stop you!"
The robe fell to the ground, and from its folds stepped a young woman. Though clad in armour from head to toe, her body-hugging Cloth somehow managed to enhance her curved shape rather than hide it; yet her face was masked. Long fair hair stirred in the wind as she sprang in the air unfurling the whip that curled along her left leg.
"Foolish mortals that have dared to set foot on the Sacred Soil, you will be spared. But the Traitor in your midst will be eliminated!"
The whip cracked.
With a lightning speed born out of training and combat experience, Hyoga caught it.
June struggled to pull it back.
"Let go!"
"She's English!" cried Sir Frederic more in surprise than in fear, " That's an Oxford accent if I ever heard one! Wasn't the Chamaeleon Saint Ethiopian born? Pale-skinned and blonde?
Unless...by Jove, I think I've got it!"
He rapidly opened his laptop and, cradling it in the crook of his arm, tapped up some data.
"Die, traitor!" cried June. Along the whip ran a blue, crackling ray of electricity. Hyoga let go just in time. Though it failed to kill him, the ray hurled him backwards and he crashed to the tiles.
Once more the whip curled, and hit the laptop. It shattered on the ground as Sir Frederic dropped it.
"That was government property. " said the Intelligence Officer calmly, " Damage done to it is usually punishable by a hefty sum."
The Chamaeleon Saint laughed.
"Little man in your uniform, what can you threaten me with?"
The next lash whipped off Sir Frederic's cap and sent it flying.
"Another shot before the bow." murmured Mr. Field, retrieving it for his friend, " Aimed to scare us into backing down. Do they take us for children?"
"They are but children themselves." replied Sir Frederic, "They believe that by bullying and arrogant swaggering they can intimidate us. Still, they have real powers, very dangerous in the hands of the young."
Queer whispered something in Sir Frederic's ear. The Officer frowned, then nodded acquiescence to whatever the young man was suggesting. Queer turned to Nick and flashed him a signal: in swift succession he opened his palm wide, balled it into a fist and opened it again. The big man's eyes grew wide with wonder. Then a slow grin crept over his face and he winked, and put his fingers in his mouth letting out a shrill whistle.
"Who-hooh!" he called loudly, " The giwl likesh it kinky!"
June turned to face him.
"What did you say, puny mortal?"
"You'we the kind that favouwsh Esh-Em?"
The young woman was momentarily puzzled by Nick's strange form of speech, but when she figured out where the 'r's and the 's'ses lay, her whip swirled through the air once more to clip a sizeable chink out of the man's beard. He yelped with fright, then caught himself and called once more "Yeah, vewy kinky!"
Hyoga scrambled to his feet and made to move forward, balling his fists, and there would have surely been a fight had Esk not caught him by the wrist in time.
"Leave it, they've worked this double-act before." he hissed, "Trust Queer. He can sweet-talk us out of it, if anyone can."
"Don't listen to Nick, Miss!" Queer was calling to the female Saint as he slowly walked towards her, palms up and smiling winningly, "He's got a nasty imagination, I know, but he's a good sort really."
"When a giwl dwesshes like that, she'sh out fow something, let me tell you."
"It's her Cloth. She is a Saint."
"One the Pope, the weal Pope, would shtwike fwom the booksh if he knew, that'sh fow shuwe!"
Queer had come level with June, who appeared to be flustered and at loss how to react to the young man smiling at her in a way she had never been smiled at before, not even by Shun, though she had desperately wished so.
"It was pure jealousy that had driven me to Shaka's side, you know. After all I had done for you, Shun, you preferred Nastassia to me. I am so sorry..."
"Oh June, if anyone has to apologise it is me. I never realised what it meant to you, taking of your mask in front of me like you did, and when I met Nastassia I had only thoughts for her, it never occurred to me how you would feel about our love."
"But that's all behind us now, isn't it? I am glad you are no longer jealous of us, and happy to be your friend, June."
"And I to be yours, Nastassia."
"Don't...don't come any closer!"
The smile disappeared from Queer's face and he looked sad.
"Why are you so unfriendly? Can't we just talk? "
"Who'd want to talk with a giwl like that?" sneered Nick.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Queer snapped angrily at his friend, taking June's defence.
"Taken in by a pwetty figuwe, awe you, Queew? I'll agwee thewe ish plenty of it." said Nick making exaggerated lewd gestures, " I mean, hey, no Joan of Awc 'Maid of Orléans' she! I'll bet she'sh had them all..."
June gasped. No matter how well trained a Saint she was, she was also a sensitive sixteen-year old girl. The years spend behind the mask had not changed her true nature. She lifted the whip again, but Queer laid his hand softly (and carefully so as not to cut himself on the claw of her protecting glove) on hers.
"Don't. He can't help it, he was born that way. Boorish. Naturally unfriendly. Women scare him really."
"Sho she should you. What, she cwacksh the whip, you jump thwough hew hoop?"
"Must he invite death?" Hyoga all but wailed at Esk who was still restraining him.
"Relax, this is their version of good-cop, bad-cop. Years ago when my brother didn't stand a chance with the girls due to his horrible acne that made everyone but us look away from him in disgust, Nick helped him to girlfriends by playing nasty to his nice guy. Worked like a charm. Mind you, by now he can do it on his own just as well, but it would take longer."
Queer certainly was making headway with the young woman.
"Nick's not so bad once you get to know him. He's been a good friend to me. He doesn't mean half of what he says and the other half he says without thinking. He's so grumpy because he has lost a couple of teeth recently."
"And I don't mean to lose anything elshe to hew. You may considew gweat big cwacking whips is exiting ow endeawing, you big shofty, but I shee a bitch and she'sh lethal."
"Ignore him. Though I must say, I hope you won't use that thing on me." said Queer, speaking to June and indicating the whip, "I know you have probably been told otherwise but we really have no hostile intentions. All we want is my sisters. I'm Quirinalis, by the way. All my friends call me Queer. And you are June, aren't you? That is a very nice name. June is absolutely the most wonderful month of the year with all the flowers in bloom. June, June, 'Shall I compare the to a summer's day?'"
"That'sh wight, shpout poetwy at hew. Call hew an English Wose while you awe at it, why don't you? Ash faw ash I'm concewned she'sh all thowns. Won't even show hew ugly face!"
"That was uncalled for." said Queer angrily, " You are way out of line Nick, you know she has to wear that thing. All female Saints have to hide their femininity..."
"Oh, weally? It'sh hew boobsh she should hide then." said Nick, and again his gestures left nothing to the imagination.
June gave and unhappy little cry, and the whip trembled in her hand. Queer tightened his hold on her.
"Don't let him upset you."
"A worm like that cannot upset a Saint." she answered; yet her shaking voice belied the words.
"He's not a worm, he's Nick, and he is my friend. Friends stick up for each other, even if they do not always agree. He's a great guy. Of course you must get used to manners like a troll and appearance to match...though I'd be a fine one to mention people's looks!"
He laughed wryly. "Much as I would prefer to talk to a real face instead of a mask I respect your wearing one. Or we could swap: after all; I truly have an ugly mutt, which you have to look at..."
"I don't think you're ugly!" June cried out impulsively.
Queer was visibly taken aback.
"You don't?"
He looked down his nose, squinting, and held it between thumb and forefinger "What about this protuberance then? 'Cest un roc, c'est un pic, c'est un cap, que dis-je, c'est un cap? C'est une péninsule!***"
"Eh?"
"It's big. Enormous. Mountainous set within a craggy lunar landscape. I am, too, ugly..."
"He's pulling a 'Cyrano'*** on her. Oh, he is good, my little brother: he's got her where he wants her now." whispered Esk, " The 'I am but the ugly duckling' act never fails to bring out the mother in every girl. "
"No you're not...and even if you were, people should not be judged by their appearance..." said June.
"Then why are you wearing a mask?" asked Queer. Ever so gently he brought his hands to her covered face.
"May I?"
"..."
"Only if you want to."
"I..."
"Please?"
"God he's good! I would fall for him even!" said Esk.
June took off her mask.
"Nick was right. You are an English Rose.... the prettiest rose I ever saw in the garden in June." said Queer softly.
"I'm not sure if I approve of this." muttered Mrs. Field. " And I certainly do not approve of the way you talk about women. Nor would Laura, for that matter. Queer's buttering up that poor girl, taking her in completely. Had I known that you boys did this kind of thing..."
"No giwl hash evew complained. The thing ish, Pal, that Queew weally hash a Cywano-complex. You wewe too wowwied about Vimi having hew fiwts bweakdown at the time, so you didn't see how he suffewed. I did though. Guys do cawe about theiw looks too, you know, eshpecially teenagews. Ouw double-act build up hish confidence and he can fliwt and chawm his way into a giwls good gwaces, but it'sh shtill all an act, he'sh tewwibly insecuwe undewneath. Too shcawed to become shewioush."
"Yes, but she is taking him serious."
"What of it? Mother, have a little confidence I your own son, what, do you think he's a bad lot? He will never take it too far. All right, so Casanova-Queer strikes again: but he's not a Don Juan****. I say lucky girl having a nice guy like Queer pay a little attention to her."
"For heaven's sake, Esquilinus, the girl has spent her entire life on a barren island, no boy has ever paid attention to her, she has no experience whatsoever...there is no knowing what she might think or do."
"Can't be helped, it's started and running along nicely. A direct hit too, I'd say."
It certainly was. June, fiercely blushing as Queer told her all the things a girl of 'sweet sixteen and never been kissed' loves to hear (and is entitled to hear at that) was fumbling with her left hand to return her whip to its normal position as 'tail' of her Chamaeleon Cloth and clutching her mask tightly in her right. Queer presented the family to her.
"Well, you know me, and Nick - he's my sister Vimi's boyfriend- and of course you've met Ilya before, Hyoga that was: my parents have sort of adopted him. The handsome fellow is my elder brother Esk: it's his wife and baby that have been kidnapped, so he is none too happy either. Next to him is my mother, you'll love her, she's wonderful, and the man in the Monty-coat over his uniform is my father. The officer is Uncle Fred, not a real uncle but an old friend of Cap's, my father's I mean. We are the Fields, by the way."
"Fields?" asked June, perplexed.
"Field. That is what we are called: Helena Field-Brandt, Hubert Field, Esquilinus, Viminalis and Quirinalis Field. Uncle Fred is a Mountjoy and Nick's a Stone. Sometimes literally too. So what is your name?"
She blushed even more deeply, this time for shame.
"I...don't know. I've lived on Andromeda Island for as long as I can remember. My Master too adopted me, when I was four years old, and when the time came, he trained me to become a Saint."
Sir Frederic came close.
"And he put the mask on you?"
"Well yes, he did, actually."
"There was definitely a link between putting on the Mask and forgetting who you are. Did not Asterion say something about it when we first confronted him? Seiya told us, remember?"
"Quite so. Perhaps that was why I changed before June did: I had lost my Mask so often that my memory-block was shaky to the point of collapse. Then, when I utterly renounced Sainthood, my memories of my past life came flooding back."
"It was one way of keeping us subdued. I don't understand though why it wasn't imposed on male Saints as well."
"Obviously because the female of the species hangs more to the home, the hearth and family. The Mask doesn't hide her femininity, it wipes away her feminine thoughts, and binds her to the new home, hearth and family that is Sanctuary...and she will protect that with all the fierceness of a mother protecting her young. Look at Marin. She was a formidable opponent."
"That is a very male perspective...unfortunately it's true."
"I was never that formidable. Shun took me out with one blow, when I tried to stop him from going to Sanctuary."
"Yes, I'm terribly sorry about that too, at the time I thought it was the right thing to do. But remember: you had just revealed your face to me. Your heart wasn't in the fight, for you wanted to protect me, not hurt me. Athena meant less to you than I. That has been your salvation."
"Poor Marin. If only she had taken her Mask off."
"When was that? 1980? When you were...seven years old?"
"Eight; but I don't understand..."
"Let me explain. It all falls into place. The dates correspond, as does the bloodgroup.... A list of the Saints of Sanctuary, the Marinas and the Spectres has...come into our possession. Although the information is not necessarily correct - it wasn't in Ilya's case, and the files never mentioned that you are white, not black- however, we have been able to establish your possible identities by cross-referencing with the unfortunately incomplete lists of children that went missing between 1965 and 1980. That was what I was attempting to access when you...ah...took matters out of my hands, so to speak. Still, I remember the case well. Plenty of children disappeared in Ethiopia in that period, but only one white girl, in 1976 to be exact...funny how despite the years spend speaking another language you have kept your English...and even retained the accent! Lord and Lady Stafford will be very happy to learn that their daughter is alive and well, Miss Jane Stafford!"
He could not keep an air of triumph out of his voice as he dropped his bombshell.
June staggered backwards. Queer made to catch her, trying lay a comforting arm about her shoulders, thought the better of it due to her spiky protector pads, and settled for her waist instead.
"Jane...Jane Stafford?" the Chamaeleon Saint stammered, her skyblue eyes large and uncomprehending."
"I don't recall the details, of course. Your father was Ambassador in Addis Ababa at the time. You were playing with your nurse in the garden of the consulate when your little sunhat blew off. As the woman ran to retrieve it, you disappeared. She was under suspicion of being accomplice to kidnappers for a while, but there came no demand for ransom. It was even thought that the Staffords were guilty of child-murder, but since there was no evidence the inquiry was inconclusive and the case closed and classified. It never was for your parents, of course. They kept searching for you. Lord Stafford spent a fortune in private detectives. The poor nurse, Nanny Roberts, was so distraught and guilt-ridden that she has spend some time in an institution."
"Starch!" exclaimed June suddenly, " Nana Starch, because of her stiff white apron that smelled of it! She would not let the native servants do the bleaching and ironing, she did that herself, and allowed me to help mix the powder and water, I loved that..."
"Yep, she'sh the vanished Lady alwight." said Nick, "Shtill callsh them 'native shervantsh'...Bwitish Uppew Classh shining twough thewe."
"But...but..." whispered June/Jane, " That means that my good master Daidalos was...was a...a..."
"A kidnapper, yes." said Sir Frederic.
The Mask fell out of June's, no Jane's, hand and clattered to the ground. A choking sob rose up in her throat.
"He was a father to me!" she cried.
And ran off, pushing past the Fields back to the Arena, where, right in the middle, she stumbled and fell, and lay weeping on the white marble slabs. Queer, who had run after her bend over the prone figure, hoping to comfort her. With a wild gesture she flung him away.
"Very clever!" snapped Mrs. Field, " What a way to announce that kind of thing to an impressionable young woman! Men! You shattered her whole world. All her certainties are shot to pieces. Oh, it takes another woman, and a mother, to understand."
As ever, Mrs. Field pushed aside her own worries and sorrow seeing someone in need.
"I can help." said Ilya, "I know how she must feel."
"That is very kind of you, dear, but I think I can handle it better on my own, and with Queer I suppose, since he has made such an impression on the poor thing. You boys continue, try your luck with the Gold Saint over there." Said Mrs. Field as she pointed ahead, up the Stairway where, resplendent in a shimmering Aura and framed by the marble columns of his temple's cella, the Aries Saint stood waiting for them.
To be continued.
* Kaike: Greek fishing boat
** Washing a child's mouth with soap is a classical Belgian method of teaching that child not to use dirty language.
***see: 'Cyrano de Bergerac' by Edmond Rostand
****Casanova was the 'love them and leave them' type, Don Juan the 'use 'em and dump 'em'. Believe it or not, there is a difference.
I have changed the name of the Lord of Blue Graad from Alexer (the French translation of whatever was the Japanese original in the manga) to the more properly Russian Aleksej. Hyoga is now called Ilya.
The first time I saw June (Anime, French television, 1988) I thought: ' English Rose'. If she was born in Ethiopia as is told in the manga, then her parents could not have been Ethiopian, not with a Lady Di look-alike for a daughter!
Daidalos the Cepheus Saint I made somewhat older, for the same reasons as Marin and Seika are older. He is therefore at least 25, not 19.
There really was a Commander Mark Lawrence in Navy Intelligence aboard an American Aircraft Carrier at the time. As far as I know, it was not the USS Enterprise.