Fushigi Yuugi: Mysterious Worlds
Chapter 4:
"Hold on, people, we're launching!"
The frizzy-haired lady quickly grabbed a handle on the wall, and Chichiri followed her example. He was very glad that he had, as, a second later, the world seemed to lurch sickeningly to one side.
"And we're clear!"
At this statement, excited chatter filled the brightly-lit room. Chichiri looked around himself, tightly clutching his staff with one hand, and the handle with the other. He was in a large, high-roofed circular room, made all out of metal. The wall was crusted with handles and with pieces of equipment, none of which was familiar to him. The room was also packed with people, who were starting to drift away from the wall and gather in the centre of the room. Several of them stared with puzzled expressions at Chichiri, scrutinizing him as if he were a bug under glass, trying to figure out who this stranger was and what he was doing there. Almost unconsciously he shrank away from their collective gaze.
A lady with short dark hair, wearing a silver uniform, was standing at the head of the room. She was speaking firmly to a couple of other uniformed people, as if she was giving them instructions. They nodded smartly when she finished speaking, and started unfolding some of the equipment attached to the wall. One of the uniformed people, a grey-haired man who nonetheless seemed to be quite young, grimaced as he worked, holding his head as if it pained him.
Chichiri jumped when someone behind him tapped him on the shoulder and said, "You can let go of the handle, now." He turned around. It was the frizzy-haired, silver-uniformed lady, the one who he had followed at Boushin's ghostly request. She smiled gently.
"So... What are we going to do with you?" she said, loudly enough to be heard over the background chatter. "You're a stowaway, right? You must have gotten on when we locked with Dierith Station yesterday, eh?" Chichiri had no idea what she was talking about. The lady, however, mistook his confused expression for guilt. "Don't worry, we'll get everything sorted out. And that kid you talked about, we'll find him somehow. He probably just got on one of the other escape pods though I can't remember seeing a kid around here anywhere today. Is he your son?"
Chichiri stared at the lady in shock, his one eye open wide behind his mask. She opened her mouth as if to speak again, but was interrupted by a loud announcement by another uniformed man. He had reddish-brown, cinnamon-coloured hair, and was standing in front of a large console that he had folded out from the wall. His fingers flew over the many switches there as he spoke. "There's no pursuit. The Parathaians just up and left. We're safe, everyone; we should be home in about six hours." A few people cheered at the good news.
Before the lady could start speaking again, Chichiri hastily said, "No no, he's not my son no da! And you don't need to worry; I know where he is now. He's safe at home no da."
The lady frowned, a little confused herself. "What are you talking about? Weren't you looking for him a couple of minutes ago?" She tilted her head; her light brown, frizzed hair bounced softly around her face as she stared questioningly at the blue-haired monk.
"I was," Chichiri replied, "but then he told me he was safe. You were there; didn't you hear him say so, no da?"
"I heard what? When was this?" the lady asked, clearly puzzled.
"Just before we went in here, no da!" Chichiri said. He, too, was puzzled. She MUST have heard Boushin's voice, he thought. She was right beside me when it came down from above!
The lady stood and stared in Chichiri's general direction, lost in thought. The blue-haired monk debated with himself whether to explain further or to leave the issue alone. Suddenly, however, someone came up behind him and whapped him fairly hard on the back, in what would have been a gesture of camaraderie had it not been so abrupt. The monk was sent reeling forward, and would have fallen if he hadn't still been holding onto the handle set into the wall.
Chichiri turned quickly and faced his unknown assailant. He was another silver-uniformed man, quite tall, and with very short black hair. The monk recognized this man; he had been helping the frizzy-haired lady to herd people into this strange circular room, just a couple of minutes ago.
"And what do we have here?" said the black-haired man with a smirk. "A stowaway, eh? Didn't think you'd get caught, I bet. You guys never do." He raised one hand and quickly grabbed Chichiri's fringe of hair before the monk could get away. He tugged on it playfully, as if he was trying to check whether it came off or not. "And what's this hair thing? I'm telling ya, some people today got no respect for the laws of the country, nor the laws of fashion neither..."
With a slight frown of displeasure, Chichiri pulled away from the black-haired man's playful teasing and smug expression, rescuing his poor abused hair from the other man's grasp. This only seemed to amuse the man even more, as he started chuckling. "Hey, don't worry," he said, "we won't get you in too much trouble with the law, now will we, Jaxie?"
"Metaxos," warned the lady, "just give up, okay?" She turned back to Chichiri, looking apologetic. "Sorry about that. He's just, well... You know how it is." Chichiri nodded, even though he really didn't.
Chichiri then remembered what the black-haired man, Metaxos, had just been talking about. In trouble with the law? he thought. Why would I be in trouble with the law? I haven't done anything wrong! He opened his mouth to ask the frizzy-haired lady, Jaxie, as well as Metaxos, exactly why he might be in trouble with the law, and, while he was at it, which country's law he might be in trouble with. But suddenly, Metaxos was nowhere to be seen.
Chichiri, utterly confused, wondered, I just looked away for a second. Where could he have gone? After a few seconds of searching the crowded room with his gaze, the monk located Metaxos again. He was in the middle of a conversation with the dark-haired uniformed lady, over on the far side of the large room. Chichiri blinked. "How did he get there so quickly, no da?" he asked out loud.
Jaxie noticed the blue-haired monk's confusion. "Yeah, he does that sometimes," she explained. "You get used to it." Chichiri didn't understand, and wanted to question her further, but she kept on talking. "Okay, Central Space Authority will want some basic information about you, so, well, the sooner we start, the sooner it'll end, right? First question. What's your ID number?"
"What's an ID number, no da?"
Jaxie's eyes bugged out. "You forgot your ID number?" she exclaimed. "How could you... How..." She visibly struggled to master her shock. Finally, she managed to regain some form of control over herself. "Well," she muttered, "this makes everything a lot more exciting." She pulled a small, flat, rectangular box from a pocket in her silver uniform. Chichiri noticed that one side of the box was half covered in small buttons. Jaxie started pressing those buttons rapidly.
"So... What's your name?"
"Chichiri," he answered, seeing no reason to give his real name.
"Place of birth?" she asked, still tapping away at the buttons on the box.
"Konan Country."
"Where? "
"Konan Country, no da," Chichiri repeated patiently.
Jaxie stared at the little box as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Chichiri wondered what was so fascinating about the box, and moved closer to get a better look at it. What he saw truly amazed him. The parts of the box not covered by buttons were covered with strange symbols. He supposed it was writing of a sort, but he couldn't read any of it. And the symbols were moving!
"No mention of a place called Konan in any records. Are you sure that's the right name?" Jaxie asked. Chichiri nodded. The frizzy-haired lady did not look reassured.
It was then that Chichiri realized something important. "Oh, I forgot! This is a different world, no da. There isn't a Konan Country here!" he exclaimed.
Jaxie stopped typing and stared at him. "What are you talking about?" she finally said.
"I come from a different world, no da. And there "
"You what? "
"I said, I come from a "
"I heard you! I just..." Jaxie's voice trailed off. Looking worried, she then called out, "Metaxos!"
The black-haired man appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "You called?" he said with a smirk. But Jaxie wasn't in the mood for joking. She said curtly, "Just keep an eye on him, okay?" She strode off purposefully.
Metaxos leaned against the wall. "So what've you done this time?" he asked the blue-haired monk. Chichiri ignored him, and watched Jaxie approach the dark-haired, silver-uniformed lady, the one that seemed to give the orders around here.
Jaxie talked to the lady for a few minutes. Both of them seemed to be very serious. Chichiri realized that he'd probably made a large mistake by admitting that he'd come from another world. But what else could I have said? he thought to himself. Anything else would have been a lie. He also considered the possibility that Jaxie didn't believe him, and now thought of him as some kind of compulsive liar, or even a lunatic. Chichiri concluded unhappily that he had absolutely no idea what to do. He decided to stay and see what happened; he had little choice but to do so, after all.
"From another world? Are you sure, Jaxie?"
"Everything fits. His clothes, his hair; they're different from anything I've ever seen before, Bri. And I've seen a lot of fashions. So "
"Wait," said the Delani Team Leader, Briony de la Mare. "You're basing your entire statement on a fashion analysis? Isn't that a little... naive? I mean, he could have just wrapped himself in a blue bedsheet and used lots of hair spray this morning. It's not that hard to look exotic, or just plain weird."
Jaxinthe Cobraie shook her head. "That's not all. I started asking him the standard set of ident questions, and he asked me what an ID number was. He didn't know! And his stated country of birth did not exist. Not in three databases, or in a hierarchic cross-check against all listed place-names over the past hundred years."
Briony frowned. "Nothing you've said can convince me that he's not just a con artist, making up a wild story to deceive us all. I mean, everyone in Raiver Delan knows the Legend."
"There's more," said Jaxinthe, looking her Team Leader straight in the eye. "Just before I got him to come into this pod, I thought I heard a voice. Some kind of disembodied voice, coming down from above. And it wasn't the intercom, I'm sure of it," she said hastily, in answer to Briony's unasked question. "Later on, he mentioned the voice, so I'm sure I wasn't just dreaming or anything."
Jaxinthe continued. "But all that's incidental. Bri, you know I usually don't trust my intuition or feelings or whatever, but I have this really strong feeling, deep down... You know what I mean; you have to! He truly is the one, Bri. I know it."
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
Briony looked away, deep in thought. When she spoke again, she spoke softly. "I'm not convinced; I'm nowhere near being convinced. But then, what else is new?" She sighed, and looked over at the blue-haired stranger, the unwitting cause of all this confusion.
It was at that moment that Josek Gawarnath, standing by the far wall of the escape pod, called out the words that everyone in the pod had been eagerly waiting for. The silver-uniformed, grey-haired young man poked a few final buttons on the complex machinery in front of him, turned, and called out, "Coffee's ready!"
Josek was immediately swamped by a frenzied flow of people, all enthusiastically shoving their way towards the coffee dispensing machine. Grimacing in pain, he frantically squirmed away through the crowded mess of coffee-crazed people, and made his way to Nicodemus Melenkurion's workstation, a tiny oasis of calm in the crowded, bustling escape pod.
Nicodemus looked up from his work. "Hey, Josek, how're you feeling?" the cinnamon-haired man asked. Taking a closer look at his skinny friend's condition, he exclaimed in a worried tone of voice, "Are you all right?"
Josek was silently leaning against the wall, with his hands clutching his head, and with his brow furrowed in pain. Nicodemus wanted to leave his work and go and try to help his friend, but he didn't dare leave the workstation for even a second. Besides, he thought pragmatically, it would probably make things even worse. So he stood by his console, keeping one eye on the switches and dials, and one eye on Josek. After a minute or two, he asked quietly, "Would it help if we tried to pack everyone into the far side of the room?"
The grey-haired young man, wincing, shook his head. "No," he croaked. "This pod is too small." Finally, he shuddered, and seemed to relax slightly. "I'm alright now," he said. "I was just... overwhelmed... back there."
"But you're "
"Doing better now? Yeah," said Josek, finishing Nicodemus's statement before the cinnamon-haired man could. He even managed a weak, shuddery smile. Nicodemus had to look away; he couldn't bear to see his young friend in such neverending pain. But there was nothing that anyone could do about it.
Nicodemus, feeling frustrated, turned back to his switches and dials, monitoring the situation constantly for any change in any of a dozen different types of equipment essential for the survival of everyone aboard the escape pod. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but it was a very necessary one, that required concentration. Nico was good at concentration. But then his carefully maintained concentration, strained by Josek's condition, was almost shattered by the arrival of his Team Leader, Briony.
"Josek," she said as she approached the young grey-haired man. "We need your help."
Nicodemus almost choked. Can't you see he's in pain? he felt like screaming out loud. Isn't he suffering enough? But he said nothing; he knew that nothing could change the situation. Josek followed Briony back, towards the mysterious blue-haired stranger; as he passed Nicodemus, he smiled feebly, as if to thank his cinnamon-haired friend for even thinking about trying to stand up for him.
Again, Nicodemus turned back to the workstation in front of him, finding solace in his work.
"You're in for it now," said Metaxos, looking annoyingly smug, as usual.
Chichiri stared at him, unimpressed. Then he turned back towards the small group of people who were approaching him and Metaxos. The dark-haired lady who Chichiri assumed was in charge here was leading the way, and both Jaxie and the young man who had earlier yelled out something about "caw-fee" were following her. Jaxie still seemed to be extremely and unusually serious, while the man kept wincing periodically. The lady's expression, however, was unreadable.
She walked right up to Chichiri and stared him straight in the eyes. He felt as though he was being pierced straight through to his soul. "We have some questions," she said intently.
Yes, thought Chichiri, but do I have the answers? At that exact instant, the grey-haired young man, who had been standing with his head bent down, one hand holding his head as if he were in pain, looked directly at the blue-haired monk and smiled as if he had heard Chichiri's thoughts...
The lady, whose dark hair was as short as Yui's had been, so many years ago, continued speaking as if nothing had happened. "First question: where exactly is this Konan Country?" she asked, clearly expecting a precise answer.
And boy, did she ever get one.
It took a long time. It took a very long time. And when it was over, Delani Team Leader Briony de la Mare was just as uncertain as she had been before it started.
Briony's intense questioning had uncovered quite a bit more than anyone had expected. The most fantastic story had slowly emerged from the words and occasionally the impassioned gestures of the strange little blue-haired man. Guided in her questioning by Josek's talent for seeing partway into the surface thoughts of people's minds, Briony had been able to learn an immense amount about the culture, history, and mysterious legends of a world that seemed very different from her own. But still she could not bring herself to believe that the man Chichiri, he said his name was was truly from another world. No, she thought. That would be too easy. To be searching off-and-on for the person spoken of by the Legend for years, decades even, and then have him fall straight into our laps... I just can't believe this. She even looked searchingly at Jaxinthe from time to time, as if to say, "Do you still actually believe his story? Even his talk of magic spells, demons, and animal gods that devour their Mikos?" Jaxinthe just looked calmly back, secure in her faith that the fulfillment of all their hopes and dreams was standing before them.
Metaxos had been sent away soon after the questioning had begun, because of his unfortunate tendency to make snide comments whenever a "no da" escaped the lips of the blue-haired stranger. He was currently taking care of the questions and concerns of the civilians aboard the Delani escape pod, and trying to divert everyone's attention from the mysterious man who was taking up so much of the time and attention of the military team assigned to this escape pod.
Josek had been unable to tell Briony whether Chichiri's amazing tale was the truth or not; his talent for reading thoughts wasn't nearly as precise as that. He was pretty much convinced, though; according to him, such a complex, convoluted story couldn't be simply made up, and if it had all been a lie, it would have had many more inconsistencies. Briony sighed once again. She seemed to be doing that a lot today.
Just a few more questions, she thought to herself, and then it's over. For now. Chichiri had just finished describing what he knew of the political relations between the four countries of his world, so she jumped right in and began her next question, saying, "You've of course heard about the Legend."
"Yes, na no da," was the blue-haired man's prompt answer. "The legend of Suzaku no Miko, and how she would come to Konan Country to save it from its enemies "
"Hold it. I didn't mean your legend. I meant the Legend," Briony interrupted.
Chichiri looked very confused. "That was the legend, no da," he said tiredly. "Unless you mean the one about the crown prince of Konan Country? That he would be born with the mark of a Suzaku Shichiseishi on his...?"
"No, I meant the Legend."
"I don't know any other legends, no da."
Briony frowned disapprovingly. "Don't try to pull that one on me. Everyone knows the Legend."
The blue-haired man who claimed he came from another world could only shake his head. Briony turned back to Josek, expecting him to have detected a hint of deception, a hint of dishonesty, from the stranger. After all, he'd just pretended he didn't know about the greatest legend of all, the Legend that was whispered in corridors and spoken in the streets throughout the entire Empire of Raiver Delan; especially now, when the Empire was threatened on all sides, by the increasingly hostile Parathaians, as well as by the mysterious, menacing aliens.
Josek, however, didn't confirm what Briony had been suspecting all along, that the blue-haired stranger was some kind of fraud. Instead, with a puzzled look on his youthful face, he said quietly, "I don't think he knows it."
"What?" exclaimed Briony. "That's impossible. Anyone from the Empire would..." Turning quickly back towards Chichiri, she said, "You must know it. The legend about the Champion that will come from another world, to save Raiver Delan in its time of greatest need..." Her voice trailed away.
Behind her, Josek said faintly, "Recognition of the Legend's similarity to the other one, the one about Suzaku no Miko. Consideration of the possibility that the Legend applies to him. Nothing more."
"It's really true," a wide-eyed Briony said to Chichiri. "You are the Champion." A strange sensation arose, deep within her heart. At that instant, she knew, with absolute certainty, that those words were completely true.
"You are the Champion," she repeated in awe, half reaching out towards the blue-haired man, as if she was afraid that he was just a figment of their collective imagination created by their country's desperate need, that could disappear at any moment. She heard a snicker behind her, and Jaxie's voice saying, "Told you so!"
Chichiri stood absolutely still, as if he was frozen in place. Conflicting emotions swelled within him, alternating panic, confusion, and elation. He thought, Is this what Miaka felt, when she first came to our world and was asked to become Suzaku no Miko? He wanted to ask the dark-haired lady about the Legend, and about this Raiver Delan she had mentioned; he wanted to know what was expected of the Champion before committing himself to a cause about which he knew nothing, but strangely enough, something compelled him to nod and murmur, "Yes. I am."
At these words, joyful expressions lit up the faces of the three silver-uniformed people standing before him. The lady who had asked so many questions, who had seemed to be skeptical of everything he had said, smiled brightly. She stepped forwards and clasped his hands in hers. "We are your Team," she said, "who will fight alongside you for the salvation of Raiver Delan. I am Briony de la Mare, the Team Leader." Still smiling, she indicated frizzy-haired Jaxie, standing behind her. "This is Jaxinthe Cobraie."
Jaxie grinned and said, "Welcome to our world! Hope you like it here!"
Briony nodded towards the young grey-haired man. "This is Josek Gawarnath." Josek smiled wanly and raised a hand in greeting. "Over there, at the workstation," Briony let go of Chichiri's hands and pointed to the cinnamon-haired man who had spoken early on during the voyage, "is Nicodemus Melenkurion. And I believe you've already met Metaxos Llyane."
Have I ever, thought Chichiri, remembering the annoying black-haired man who even now was zipping around through the crowd of people gathered in the centre of the circular room - or "pod", as he had heard someone call it. He nodded and smiled, wondering what kind of mess he'd gotten himself into.
