"The Council is now in session," The Governor announced formally, and the quiet chatting died down as all the Councilors directed their attention to the head of the table. It was a very fine table, of satiny brown wood. A large recording device had pride of place in the center, recording their words for later transcription into the official minutes. Little plates of donuts were strategically placed so everyone could reach at least one plate, along with a bowl of carrots for Councilor Gil, who was diabetic. A young human intern filled all their cups with coffee, then quietly left the room with his serving cart. No one else was supposed to be present when the Council was in session, although that rule could occasionally be bent.

There were thirteen Councilors, in total, counting the Governor. Their duties covered all kinds of things… Civil Works, Criminal Law, Transportation, Finance… Harpuia rubbed his eyes. He felt very tired. He had spent all night helping get the civilians safely back in town, and gathering up the dead of his command. Many of the bodies had not been found, and he knew they never would be. As an amoeba, the gel had immobilized Reploids with its slimy strength, then quickly dissolved them. The bodies they had managed to recover had been in truly disgusting condition.

Harpuia wished he could have skipped this Council meeting entirely, and gotten some sleep. But he was hardly the only one in that boat. Drosden, Smythe, Lamont and Eggleston all looked as exhausted as he felt. The other Council members were fresher, but their duties hadn't put them into the emergency process. They had just been evacuated with the rest of the civilians.

"We'll begin the meeting with status reports. General Harpuia, if you could begin?" Harpuia nodded, and began to speak.

"The situation with the gel has stabilized. The counteragent Ciel-" A few winces around the table, at her name. "-and our own science team discovered is proving extremely effective. There are still infected Reploids wandering around, but as long as we provide the solution to all cities, towns and villages and stay vigilant, it should no longer be a problem. Our casualties, however, were substantial." Harpuia swallowed. He had already gone through the figures with Fefnir and Leviathan, and no one was happy. "We experienced an almost twenty percent casualty rate with our ground forces, and around five percent in the Rekku. We're in need of recruits." There was a faint stir around the table, and more than a few people looked sour.

"Not from my forces," Lamont, also known as Brigadier General Lamont, overall commander of the human armed forces and Councilor of Military Affairs, said firmly. "I'm sorry, Harpuia, but you yanked out all the Reploids I could spare last time. Anymore and our mech bat divs will be crippled." Harpuia nodded, resigned. He understood the realities of the human military. Almost entirely human, they still employed a few mechanical divisions. Those were mostly humans in heavy weapons, like tanks and ride armor, but there were also AI drones and Reploid skirmishers in those units. The skirmishers were meant to divert the enemy from the slow moving but powerful tanks. It was a job that required intelligence and speed, and many had flying capabilities… so they were ideal for recruitment into the Rekku. But he had indeed already drained the talent pool heavily, and it was hard on the human forces, bearing the expense of replacing them.

"I might be able to shake you out a few more SWAT teams that are willing to go over," Councilor Gil spoke up. A very thin woman with a dark, East Indian complexion, she took a great deal of pride in her heritage and was wearing a heavily embroidered dark blue sari and a great deal of gold jewelry. But perhaps it wasn't pride, so much as the fact that she was Minister of Criminal Law. In her time as a judge, she had gotten her fill of wearing the tradition gowns, and used her freedom as a Minister to wear whatever she pleased. "But I don't think I could get more than fifty, and they won't be among the best… that's another talent pool that's been drained. How many are you needing, about?"

"To get back up to strength? A bit over four hundred." Harpuia said grimly. He, Fefnir and Leviathan each had a thousand warriors. They were an elite strike force, however, and had an impact completely out of proportion with their size.

"Then the recruits will have to be built from scratch. This will have to go into emergency expenses." Eggleston said thoughtfully, eliciting several dismayed looks.

"But we're going to need that budget to rebuild the city!" Drosden protested, and Smythe nodded. "That gel and our own weapons caused extensive damage."

"Perhaps a funding drive?" Councilor Li, Minister of Transport, suggested with a sly smile. Harpuia had a sinking feeling as the man glanced over at him. "With Harpuia's current fame, I think a few appearances from him, asking for help to rebuild, would be well received." Harpuia colored at that, especially at the sounds of agreement around the table.

When he had used Muffy to steal the cameras from Weil, he'd only meant to keep the lunatic from scoring a public relations coup. He hadn't meant to score one himself, but… he'd had a chance to watch the tape, and it was quite embarrassing. He had looked like… like a battered hero, a Joan of Arc standing with bloody sword and scorched armor, facing an enemy down with passion and rage. Weil had gotten the camera back before he had finished, but it had done him no good… the contrast between his spotless robes and Harpuia's damaged armor had been in Harpuia's favor. And then, when Weil had been ready to kill him, the cool face he had turned onto the maniac had revealed no doubts, nothing but calm resolve. Watching it, Harpuia had been amazed… it had seemed like something from a holovid, not something that had actually happened to him. Muffy's part had made her something of a celebrity as well, and while Zero's part had been the least flashy, public opinion was definitely with him too.

The end effect of all the publicity was hard for Harpuia to handle. Getting constantly asked for autographs was wearing, and worse yet was all the fan mail. Especially because it seemed to all be coming from teenage girls and middle-aged women. Fefnir was constantly making bad jokes about his harem.

Councilor Li knew how embarrassed he was by it, too. Harpuia suppressed a glower as Drosden smoothly seconded the motion. There was no particular expression on her face, but the very speed with which she'd seized on the idea was a backhanded insult to him, particularly since she and Li normally couldn't stand each other. And Eggleston scored the coup de gras by passing it. Harpuia stared at the Governor, a bit stunned. Et tu, Brutus? Eggleston smiled at him sympathetically, but with no bending.

"Sorry Harpuia, but it will go over very well right now and it's the only way to get funding for both the city and the replacements you'll need." He said, and Harpuia gritted his teeth on the pithy reply he wanted to give. Then he sighed. If Eggleston thought it was a good idea, he was definitely doomed. No one was going to stand behind him.

"Getting past that, how many Reploids can we make how fast?" Councilor Gil said, keeping her mind on the practicalities. Councilor Smythe frowned, looking through her notes. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked this question, but the details of the answer changed constantly.

"Well, that depends. The Tecknologic facility at Queenston can still make only forty class A military Reploids a month, and they'll cost top dollar but they'll be good." Harpuia nodded slightly. The facility they came from didn't dictate how good a Reploid would be, ultimately, but it did have a lot to do with their initial survival. "We can get another thirty from the Reploid Solutions facility at York, but the quality will be a little questionable… more B than A. Then there's the pure civilian facilities… we can feel them out. They probably can't make the weapons and armor, but we might be able to patch something together from other sources. The key is if they can get the skill sets right. Only Tecknologic and Reploid Solutions are reliable in that area." Harpuia winced. Training could compensate for a faulty skillset, but he wasn't at all sure he would have time for in depth training. "There's also enough popular support to try for direct recruitment… it might be worthwhile, although I doubt you'll be able to get more than a few dozen qualified applicants that way." Several of the Councilor's exchanged glances, dubious at that prospect, and Harpuia shared the feeling. His units were elite. Recruiting directly from the public was done quite rarely… usually it happened when a prospective recruit gathered his courage and came directly to the HQ, asking for a place. Usually, Harpuia unleashed Fefnir on them. If the prospective recruit didn't run off crying and demonstrated some proficiency, they were accepted for training. Very few rose too far, but there were exceptions… Padrick had entered his forces that way. But even more than Reploids with faulty skillsets, those recruits needed training. Padrick's records showed some very intense training time with Phantom himself.

"We can try it," Harpuia said with a half-shrug. "But I refuse to accept any recruits below minimal requirements."

"We wouldn't expect you to, General," Eggleston said easily, setting his hands on the table. "Now… there's something else we need to address. The Translation project." There was a sudden stir around the table and a few quick glances were shot at Harpuia. Speculative or, in the case of Councilor Smythe, rather guilty. They were all aware that he knew about the project, but none of them was sure of how he would react. Harpuia managed the moment with calm dignity, watching Eggleston. "It's time to release the information about it to the public." There was a scurry of sound around the table, this one dismayed. "There can be no better time."

"How about never?" Someone suggested, sotto voice but loud enough that Harpuia heard. Eggleston also seemed to hear the mutter, and began explaining.

"It's bound to come out at some point, and since Harpuia needs more skilled recruits, now is a better time than any." There was suddenly some interest in the faces around the table, and General Lamont abruptly looked thoughtful. Harpuia barely held back a scowl… he was supposed to endanger more humans? But he could see how translating human soldiers would meet his needs. "Also, it will help us meet the Rebellion's demands." There was another stir, and Gil spoke up sharply.

"Demands? What demands are you talking about, Governor?" She leaned forward, and Harpuia reflected that she had probably been a terror as a judge. She looked ready to pounce on the slightest misstatement.

"Let me read them to you," Eggleston said smoothly, pulling out a paper. Harpuia swallowed as the Governor began to speak. A Reploid bill of rights?

Before the recitation was half over, the expressions in the room were definitely strained. Harpuia was feeling a bit strained himself. He had no idea what the ramifications of Ciel's demands would be to his society. Equal pay for equal work? How would they even begin enforcing such a thing? And it was only one of the more troublesome demands. Eggleston set down the paper, and looked them all over seriously.

"While I doubt we can address all these concerns, it's time we started, and revealing the Translation project would help."

"It would indeed," Drosden affirmed. "Although it will also cause immense ethical questions about war crimes." Harpuia flinched, then flushed with anger as he caught the cold glint in her eye and the faint malice in her expression. General Lamont was just as angry, although his dark skin showed no red. He opened his mouth to speak angry words… but Eggleston cut him short, his voice like a cold wind.

"If that is a reference to the actions committed under Master X, Councilor Drosden, I will remind you that half the people sitting at this table also served under him. Including you." The woman flushed, looking ready to protest, but the Governor continued. "We all should have done something, but we did not. We believed in X, despite our knowledge of the Translation project, knowledge General Harpuia did not have. I think you should keep that in mind." There was a leaden silence, then Councilor Gil cleared her throat.

"This bill will require amending the constitution. Are we up for that?" That took the debate into safer waters, and Harpuia let the rest of it wash over him. The arcane terms and concepts of bill drafting were a bit beyond him, although he had a fairly good grasp on social issues. He caught General Lamont's eye, and make a quick hand gesture, an old code for 'I'd like to speak to you later.' The Brigadier General gave him a quizzical look, but nodded acknowledgement.

If Harpuia was going to be using Translated soldiers in the future, he wanted to have a say in which ones would be selected.

Finally, the Council wound down a bit on the bill of Reploid rights question. It was decided that they couldn't possible make any decision in haste, and would have to hammer out the specifics of the bill over a long period of time. And by the time it was over, Councilor Smythe was dozing in her seat, and General Lamont looked like he wished he could join her. Smythe's indifference to anything outside her bailiwick of Civil Works was well known, which was how she managed to get away with that kind of behavior. Harpuia almost wished he had cultivated a similar indifference as he thought longingly about his recharger.

Once the debate about the bill of rights was over, though, there were the usual reports to get through. This was an emergency session, so not everyone was prepared, and Harpuia bit back a groan as he watched Councilor Weber nervously shuffle his papers. He was the Minister of Finance and needed to report on the emergency funds. His lack of comment earlier and nervousness now did not bode well.

And the man had an unfortunate tendency to drone on when he was nervous. Harpuia felt like everyone had to be seeing his eyes glazing over… but he wasn't too worried because he certainly had company. Governor Eggleston was patient as a sphinx, but Gil was tapping her fingers impatiently. When Weber finally stopped to take a long breath, she broke in.

"Well, thank you Finance Minister Weber, for that edifying recital." Her tone was as sweet as honeyed candy. "Seldom has so little been said for so long. We'll all take the example to our hearts." There were chuckles all around the table, and Weber turned brick red as he realized she had just called him a pompous windbag. "If I may sum it up, we have just enough in the emergency fund for civil repairs." Weber opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and nodded. "Wonderful. So the funding drive is absolutely necessary. That or a levy." Everyone grimaced at that. No one in the country liked levies. Actually, everyone loathed them.

"If I must, I must." Harpuia said with an almost inaudible sigh. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

The council meeting finally ended when Eggleston called for an end to the meeting, and was quickly seconded by Gil. The meeting broke up with several people, Harpuia among them, intending to take a catnap. He could go longer with no sleep if he had to, but he didn't like it. He spoke briefly to Lamont, who promised to send him dossiers of any Translation prospects, then went back to his own HQ for an appointment with his recharger.

First, though, he had a bit of work to do. Passing through the halls of HQ, he headed towards his office. He walked into the room, briefly frowning as he saw that someone had put a new picture on the wall… a seaside scene in very bright colors. Harpuia shrugged, sitting down at his desk and looked at his computer… then blinked at the purple sticky note someone had tacked to the screen.

"Hmm?" Harpuia plucked the note free and read it with a small smile. The wide, extravagant handwriting was as familiar as his own.

Tech heads are done upgrading Padrick to Phantom's abilities. So when are you gonna get to training him, or do you want me to do it? Don't make Levi, she'll kill him. I think its love.

-Fefnir

"Love," Harpuia said musingly, then shook his head. He couldn't think of anything more unlikely, offhand. Although you could never quite tell how things like that would turn out. "Um." He placed the note on the desk, and accessed some old files. Files from when Phantom was alive, and leading his unit, the Zan'ei.

He rarely looked at these particular files. They always made him feel… pained, nostalgic. The comments in them were curt and to the point, but his mind couched them in Phantom's voice. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine his friend speaking to him, telling him these things…

Harpuia sighed, and shook away that morbid thought, accessing Padrick's personnel file. He raised an eyebrow as he saw numerous comments… and some in red. That wasn't expected. He frowned as he perused them, hearing Phantom's voice in his mind.

Unshakeable loyalty to Neo Arcadia. Valuable ability to blend in. Ideal for special training. That comment was the usual black. Next was one in red… Abnormal behavior. Investigating farther. Harpuia skipped down the line of comments, which had been added over the course of months as a memory aid for Phantom. At the end, Phantom had included a summary… he always did, and the summaries hurt Harpuia's heart, because he knew Phantom had been writing specifically to him. Phantom had known who would be going through his files, in the event of his death. Padrick is a highly useful soldier and recommended for high position. His loyalty to Neo Arcadia is unshakeable. However, he possesses an aberrant moral code and sees nothing wrong with scheming and backstabbing his way to the top. He will always seek to be the highest rank in his class, sabotaging others in ways that will not damage Neo Arcadia but may undermine discipline. Always keep him firmly under your watch, and let him know you are watching. He has a deep need for an ultimate superior and craves he respect and approval of that superior. Harpuia sat back as he thought about that, and realized that Leviathan had been right. Her comments on Padricks' behavior were almost identical to Phantom's. Harpuia considered that, then reached for his computer, calling up a communications link. The face of the HQ operator, Annalise, filled the screen. "Anna, have Padrick report to my office."

Right away, Lord Harpuia, she said, her voice faintly tinny from his speakers. Harpuia waited patiently, and perhaps five minutes later, there was a knock.

"Come in," Harpuia said, and regarded Padrick as he stepped inside. The small, dun colored Reploid was a bit different now. The upgrades couldn't help but make him look a bit more impressive… his armor was stronger now, but lighter and more compact, making him look sleek and deadly. But Padrick had obviously stopped the techs from ornamenting it in any way, which must have been an uphill battle. Harpuia's respect for his professionalism went up a notch. Being constantly underestimated was useful, but probably very tiring on a personal level.

"Reporting for duty, sir!" Padrick gave him a crisp salute, and Harpuia smiled thinly.

"Very good, Guardian Padrick." Padrick's expression didn't change, but his cheeks pinked slightly. This was the first time his new title had been made official. "At ease, and sit down. We have some things to discuss." Padrick nodded and sat down in a graceful, economical motion. Harpuia blinked, then shook his head slightly. For a moment, he had been reminded of Phantom. It was probably just from reading the files. Speaking of which… "You might be interested in this… Phantom kept files on all of his soldiers," Harpuia said with a smile. "And he had quite a bit to say about you." Harpuia read through the summary, keeping an eye on Padrick's reactions.

Padrick seemed to stay impassive, but there was a hint of strain around his eyes… and Harpuia detected a scent of guilt. He had been planning something. Harpuia suppressed a quick flash of anger, and smiled innocently at the brand new Guardian. That only increased his uneasiness. Harpuia was at his most dangerous when he was feigning innocence. "I just want you to know, Padrick , that I intend to take Phantom's advice. I'm going to be watching you. And if any bizarre mischances start to befall Levi and Fefnir, well… Guardians can be retired." Harpuia's smile became a thing of ice, and Padrick actually bit his lower lip. Harpuia actually wouldn't kill Padrick… but he would strip him of all rank, all enhancements, and throw him out of HQ. Which, for Padrick, was a fate worse than death.

"Yes, sir. I understand." Padrick said without inflection, but in his own head, a thousand plans were dying quiet deaths. But he managed to cheer himself a moment later. He was still a Guardian, and that was higher than he had ever imagined he would climb before Phantom had died. If he had to be the least, the youngest among three, he could deal with it. Trying to gain the distinction of being first among equals wasn't worth risking everything. And the cold look in Harpuia's eyes convinced him that Harpuia would, indeed, be watching… just as Phantom had watched.

"Good," Harpuia said softly, watching Padrick. Watching. "You're dismissed."

Elsewhere…

The room was quite beautiful. It had been furnished in the best of taste, and sparing no expense… or at least, no illegality. The carpet was a beautiful, ancient oriental rug, priceless and irreplaceable. The furniture was antique rosewood, imported from India at ruinous expense some time in the far off past. The decorations in the room were few, but also lovely antiques. A Ming dynasty vase sat on a plinth, specifically designed to set off the white and blue patterned porcelain yet match the rosewood furniture.

In the midst of that elegant good taste, Weil's bulky body seemed out of place. Although no one could have taken amiss to the practiced, elegant way he was sipping a very fine glass of wine as he watched one of the few modern accoutrements in the room… a flat screen TV set in one wall.

The scene it was showing quietly enraged him, although there was no sign of that on his face besides a narrowing of the eyes… eyes that were cold and hard as stones.

"…banished you once for your crimes against humanity, and we banish you again!" Weil watched the recording of his most recent defeat, until the screen went black. Then he quietly finished his wine… and crushed the glass in his fist. Shards of glass tinkled sadly onto the carpet, as he opened his hand.

"Someday, Harpuia. You and your Neo Arcadian piglets… someday." Until his defeat, and the way Harpuia had dared speak to him, he'd never really thought of the green Guardian as anything but X's little lapdog. But now… "Someday."

Fin

For now