Author's Notes: Welcome to the revised chapter 2, standard disclaimers apply. Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We made it to the Psychiatric Center just as my younger sister Magdalen was leaving. She went racing back to work after a fast greeting but telegraphed an intensely curious look over her shoulder. I blushed; she'd want to know who Morphia was, and I'd have to tell her too. My sister has the sort of intangible personal quality that makes it very difficult to be dishonest. Then I stopped and thought about it for a second. I shook my head in exasperation -- what was I thinking? I hadn't done anything wrong with her…in fact we hadn't – done -- anything at all, period. Maybe she thought that Morphia was some sort of rebound after my last ex, and I was bringing her to meet mum in a fit of infatuated post-coital madness. Then I realized I had stopped dead right in front of the automatic door, which was standing open and chiming away on a cheerful loop while I stood there entranced by my own deep thoughts. I jumped guiltily out of the way to let Morphia through. She smiled slightly and politely ignored my idiocy. Once inside I went through the visitor's forms quickly; I know the silly things by heart. The receiver-bot scrutinized my answers with bureaucratic efficiency. Morphia stood nervously to the side, with a white-knuckle grip on her briefcase. I wondered why she was so jumpy; since she didn't have the security clearance to actually meet my mother, she'd have to wait here. Maybe I was so used to being in a mental institution that I could appreciate the feelings of the uninitiated. Eventually the robot cleared my form through the main computer, and beeped up to the secure floor to let mum know she had a visitor.

The days seem to blur together here, Magenta thought as she sat in her habitual spot by the window, waiting out visiting hours. She looked through the tiny panes and wondered if anyone else would come today. She sighed; she loved being able to see her children, thought they were hardly children now -- they grew up so quickly. Her youngest was already twenty and the rest were even more worrisome ages. Things had been easy enough when they were small; keeping them out of the little troubles of childhood had been their only concern. They…her heart twisted painfully. She hadn't seen her brother, her partner, her lover, in nearly six years. It had all been so perfect when they'd returned from Earth. They had been given a hero's welcome by the Old Queen, and Princess Jenner had not forgotten their years of loyal service. But the money, the postings, the house -- those things had mattered very little to her. The license to bear children, to have her own children with Riff-Raff, with the best medical care money could buy. That had been a prize beyond any treasure in the cosmos.

And now, in her present circumstances, she couldn't protect them. It tore at her heart. She could only hope that the deal she had made on that awful day held true, and that everybody stayed out of King Eris's sight.

She looked up at the atom clock; visiting hours were nearly over and Red had not come. That was unusual. Red always came to see her, though she almost never saw her father. She felt a little twinge of anxiety. Perhaps she worried most about Red, who always seemed to suffer more from the slings and arrows of fortune; the daughter who could never be content with what she had, and always looked for love in the wrong places.

Having Kitty go and stay with Red after the most recent catastrophic break-up had eased her mind somewhat; but still she worried. The computer unit in the corridor beeped. The nurse came to the door and whispered something to the guard. The guard looked at her through the eye-gap in the door, "You have another visitor. Will you see her?"

My request was finally cleared on the secure floor. I left Morphia in the waiting room while I went up in the lift. I got out at the end of Mum's corridor, and walked down to the tiny cell where she lived -- or at least the place where I always saw her. After six very boring security questions which I am required to answer every time I visit, then the retina scan, and the finger-print scan, they opened the door and let me into the room. Mum looked up from her seat by the miniscule double-paned window.

"You're late, dear; is everything all right?"

"Yeah Mum, I just…uh…ran into somebody on the way over."

"Oh! Anybody special?" She motioned for me to sit in the opposite chair.

"Um…not sure, actually."

"Oh?" She said in an inquiring tone, and I had the uncomfortable urge to quickly change the subject and get the conversation as far away from the topic of my love life as possible.

"Did Magdalen have any interesting news? Was she the only one who showed up today besides me?" Visiting hours come around only once a standard month and last only twelve standard hours, so my siblings and I usually drop whatever we're doing to come see her.

"No, Kitty and Swift came this morning. Salem sent me a message on the SubSpace Network; she's on Caracas 4 surveying the grounds for a new resort. Have you talked to her at all since she left?" She looked at me sternly. I don't get along very well with my eldest sister. "Blue brought me a card from your father." She pointed to a piece of heavy cardstock on a little side table, printed with a delicate pattern. "Vhen vas the last time you vent to see him?" She asked with a raised brow. I don't get along well with my father, either, but thankfully she let it go. "Magdalen is very busy these days; more immigrants are coming in every day, and they all need to be processed." Her expression changed abruptly, grew thoughtful. "But vhat about you, darling? How have you been? I hear so little about your personal life these days. Kitty tells me you haven't been vell since your break-up vith Demona. She says you sit around your apartment all the time and aren't eating properly." Kitty is my youngest sister, and my roommate at the moment. Being the required spoiled baby of the family, my mother often enlists her to spy on the rest of her unruly brood. Not that mum didn't have a point in this case; the split had been hard on me. Demona was a transvestite I met at a club I used to hang out in a lot. It's the oldest story in the world. We dated for a little over six months, s/he moved in, we put each other through the respective bad relationship hells, and s/he finally left in a snit without paying he/r share of the rent and I hadn't heard from he/r since. That was three months ago, give-or-take a week. So Kitty moved in, at the behest of our mother, supposedly to help me out with the rent and be closer to the University. The actual reasons are to fuck whoever she wants, come and go as she pleases, and keep the extent of her recreational drug use private. Making sure I change my underwear, get out of the house and eat every day is an annoying chore she has to do to appease our mother. "Have you got her spying on me?"

"Vhat a horrible thing to say! She's concerned for you, as am I. What an awful thing to say about your sister." She crossed her arms and tried to look disapproving but she was a bit too smug to be really believable.

"Mum, you don't need to worry, look, I'm fine. In fact…I--uh…I have a date tonight."

"Oh! That's vonderful! Is that who you ran into? Tell me all about it."

I could feel a hot blush creeping up my neck. "Um…well, there's not much to tell. She… she just…sorta dropped into my lap." I finished lamely, my thoughts straying momentarily. "She's … uh…very unusual." I stuttered at last.

"Red, darling, is it love?" My Mum asked, and giggled like a schoolgirl. "Vhat is she like? How does she feel about you? Is there a future in it? Or are you two purely temporary?"

These typical mother­ly questions brought me tumbling out of my private reality. What was I doing with Mum, discussing my future with a girl that I've known for all of an hour? What's wrong with this picture? I decided to think about it later – after -- I'd left. "I'm not sure, mum, but I'll let you know, I promise." I shrugged, trying to keep a lid on my agitation. She smiled at me, the warm, genuine smile that I see so rarely. I smiled back, my annoyance evaporating. We sat comfortably, chatting together for a little while longer, until the young, pink-haired, gum-chewing nurse came in and told me that visiting hours were over. We hugged. I gave her a kiss and said good-bye.

Out in the waiting room Morphia jumped up when she saw me. She blushed like a guilty teenager -- it was cute. I offered my arm and motioned to the door, "shall we?" She smiled timidly and took my arm, and we stepped out onto the Common. We walked a little way without speaking, meandering towards the transport station. I saw the Sunset Line Transport waiting at the dock.

"Do you drink?" I asked, "we could go to Sunsets, they make a great cocktail. We would be just in time for happy hour."

She smiled shyly and nodded, and a little while later we were sitting in my very favorite bar, with its dim yet tastefully lit lounge. We stayed away from the bar itself, swarming with office drones in for happy hour to get a little bit plastered before going out for the evening. I preferred the less crowded lounge with its dusty crimson suede and leather upholstery. The walls were painted with a kaleidoscopic paint that changed from gold to carmine to purple to an inky bluish-black. The atmosphere was smoky, the conversation around us a muted, pleasant buzz; perfect. I ordered two White Moon Twists, then two more. By the third round I was feeling pleasantly mellow and Morphia, much less shy.

"Is your mother really Lady Magenta?" She asked abruptly, stubbing out her "lite" Synthcig into the burgeoning ashtray.

I was taken aback by the question. I'd hoped she wouldn't figure out who I'd gone to see, but then I remembered that personal visiting hours were posted on the Psychiatric Center's News Net site. She must've been curious and looked it up while I was with Mum. "Yes, rather. Why? Curious?" I lit an Abasin cigarette while trying to look dapper and cool. I took a drag and passed it to her. She took a short drag, and coughed a little as she passed it back, like she wasn't used to the strong Abasin weed.

"Are the rumors true? Is she really insane?" She asked, wide-eyed and inquisitive like a kid begging for a story.

I had to think about my answer. Normally I get pissed when people pry into the tabloid story of my life, but since I had decided to like her I chose to forgo sarcasm. I took the cigarette back and sucked on the filter. "That's sort of hard to say." I said at last.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." She said over the rim of her glass, then eyed the contents critically before draining the dregs. Despite her fragile appearance she had no trouble keeping up with me.

"No -- it's not that. Erm…well let me see if I can explain it properly. Prince Frank had been trying to overthrow his mother and undermine support for his sister; the mission to earth was somehow part of his plan, but I don't really know why. When he took Jenner's most loyal servants – my parents -- with him, he was trying to force their support to his side. But they resisted, and managed to kill him in the end. I don't know the details, but when the mission returned without him, the Old Queen and Princess Jenner gave my parent's a hero's welcome. The Old Queen pardoned them for their part in Prince Frank's death and officially handed the throne down to her daughter. My mother and father had been long time supporters of Princess Jenner and her first act as Queen was to thank them publicly for their help in her ascension. As a reward for their loyalty, she agreed to grant them whatever they wanted that was within her power to give. I expect you know the rest. They got the house on The Hill and the Multiple-Child license, prominent positions at Court, and, of course, money. She shielded them from criticism and they both gained considerable public favor. I remember reporters coming to the house when we were little children and taking pictures for the news networks and wanting interviews. My parents were very happy for years. Around the time I turned twenty, the Eris faction appeared and began making trouble. He claimed to be the true heir of the Furter house and stirred up resistance in the Rim Territories. Nobody took any of it seriously until they assassinated Queen Jenner, but by then it was too late. They had already infiltrated the Court, and somehow managed to subdue the Old Queen. Eris took power, made himself King and things started to...fall apart for all of us. But Mum, she had it the hardest."

She was watching me with rapt attention, the nearly burnt-out stub of my cig hanging from her lips. A wisp of pale hair hung down across her wide eyes and flushed cheeks. I lost my train of thought for a moment, thinking about where I'd like to put her mouth. I wondered how she'd look with those clear eyes closed and her head thrown back, pale hair coming undone…. Thankfully she spoke up and brought me back to reality before I could utter an embarrassing chain of disconnected monosyllables. "Tell me what really happened after Queen Jenner was assassinated." She said with child-like eagerness, as she sat up and stubbed the cig out. There was something curious about the way she said it. What really happened? As if it hadn't been all over the news at the time? She scooted closer and pulled the Abasin package out of my shirt pocket. Her fingers brushed my breast and I felt an immediate flush of hot blood to my face, and…um, other places as well. My breath caught in my throat and all thoughts about odd speech patterns left me as I watched her light the last Abasin cigarette. She took a pull and blew three perfect smoke rings off into the air.

"Uh…" She passed me the cig and I took a drag absently, trying to collect my thoughts. "Well, first my father was arrested. He was the High Imperial Admiral in charge of Space Fleet at the time. Naturally King Eris didn't want him hanging around with all that power at his command. Father was taken to City Penitentiary and we weren't allowed to see him. Mum was devastated by Jenner's death. They had been great friends since they were children, but when father was arrested and his execution was threatened, I think that she started to crack under the pressure." I paused to drain the last of my Twist from its blue-green glass. Morphia looked upset. I went on, "she began a campaign to have him freed -- she became really obsessed. She caused such a stir that I guess Eris wanted to find a way to shut her up."

The black-eyed bartender came to see us then. I ordered another round and a second pack of Abasin cigarettes. I waited until she brought them and set our drinks on the blood-red enamel table before I went on.

"The New King had my father tortured, and set up a continuous media feed to the house. It was on every com screen, blared out of every speaker, and we couldn't turn it off. My sisters and brother and I tried to keep it together, but we were all wrecked. Mum took the worst of it from all sides. In the end, she couldn't take any more. She sent a letter to the King -- I still don't know what it said. The next day a hovercraft arrived at the house…and Mum got in. She never even said good-bye. It was announced that she had suffered a mental breakdown and was put into the Psychiatric Center. I've never known whether it was true or not." I stubbed out another cig on the mound in the ashtray, which caused a small ash-slide onto the table. "The Crown seized the house and all my parent's holdings. My brother went to Court as a sort of hostage, and was eventually made to serve the new Princess. Salem took care of Kitty until she was old enough to go to the University, and the rest of us got what work we could. That was almost six years ago, and my parents are both still prisoners. Does that answer you question?"

"Yes," she whispered. I hadn't realized how close she had gotten. "I'm so sorry." Her breath was sweet from the fruit syrup in our drinks. Her mouth was open and only inches from mine, so I leaned in and I kissed her. It was everything a kiss is supposed to be, crashing waves, fire works, and supernovas. I felt her cool hand against my chest as we pulled apart. She draped her arms around my neck and pulled herself into my lap, and I could feel her trembling. "Take me home with you, Red." What could I do? I took her home.