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The End of the Circus: A Tale of the Yizibajohei
Omake: A "Quiet" Time in Delaware
by Regina Magia
Outside Dover, the third Friday of November in 2012, two hours before midnight (Tōkyō time: Saturday, noon)...
"Lord, I am troubled."
Kneeling before his family's home, Reverend David Maclay gazed up into the cloudy night sky. A priest accredited with the United Methodist Church, he was the pastor of a local congregation living in or around the capital city of the First State. He had been honoured with a chance to attend a synod of the World Methodist Council at their headquarters in Lake Junaluska, located in the beautiful Blue Ridge mountains of western North Carolina, a month ago. That synod had also hosted representatives from other denominations the Council engaged in ecumenical dialogue with over the previous decades.
In that council, David had learned of something that had truly shocked him.
Something that hadn't haunted America for over fifty years.
But, thanks to the interest of aliens in this world, was coming back.
And coming back with a VENGEANCE...!
"Lord, I have heard much from those who tend to your flock about Your many children of Yiziba, our lost cousins taken from Your Creation here on Earth all those years ago to reside on such a distant planet within Your Heavens. I do not know what to make of it, Lord. Those who also tend to your flock elsewhere do not understand them as well. Their ways are so strange to us, yet they have done much good since they came to reside here on Earth. There is such confusion in our hearts..."
A sigh escaped the native of Middletown before he fell silent, unsure of what to say next...
KK-KRUNCH!
Bolting to his feet, the preacher looked, then he raced over to where a rather large crater had formed in the very backyard of his home, his hat left behind.
Now lying in that smoking crater where two men appearing to be in their twenties. Both were in form-fitting jumpsuits with flared sleeves and bell-bottom trousers, the garish colours of their clothes quite different than anything David considered "normal" fashion anywhere. The more muscular of the pair was clad in red and violets, an emblem over his heart resembling ten signal bars one would see on a smartphone screen put on their side, increasing in size from his waist to his collarbones. The other was in cyan blue, an emblem similar to an orb flying through the sky on his chest. Before the preacher could ask what was going on, the latter of the two somersaulted to his feet, revealing a devil-may-care smirk.
"«Give me those shards, Rimmim!»" he barked out in a language that sounded somewhat like Japanese to David's ears; many of his younger parishioners were passionate anime fans and he had seen several subtitled shows in the past on the Internet. "«I will not let those crystals fall into the wrong hands! If Tuyuki Bolem's plan is to succeed, this planet needs more faces than heels right now!"
That made the more muscular fellow laugh as he also recovering by a simple body-flip back to his feet, playfully patting the small pouch tied to his belt. "«Do you think I'm going to let you tip the balance, Lu'unum?! I'd hardly think it fair if only FACES emerged from the norms of this planet! Things have to be properly even to prevent Batae Erba from returning, after all!»" And with that, he leapt into the air and shot into the night sky overhead, a faint twinkle in the air marking his passage.
"«Coward! Get back here! I'm not done with you!»"
As the other man raced off after his opponent, David blinked as his mind nearly crashed from having such a close encounter of the third kind...
...then he blinked on seeing something flash in the ripped dirt where the current incarnation of the Mad Prophet of the Future, Rimmim ("Millennium"), stood. Curious, the preacher walked over to kneel at the edge of the crater, leaning down to pick up a shard of multi-layered crystal. "What is this...?"
He then gargled as the crystal glowed before MELTING into his skin.
Tene lomher'buo, David Stephan Maclay...!
An hour later...
"«...Botoemr'bu Tene? Hey! You awake?!»"
Hearing that voice, David blinked as his mind quickly interpreted what he had just heard. "Yiziba...!"
A relieved breath escaped his current guest, who seemed to collapse on himself. "«Thank the Forge! You got a decent Gift, one that won't give you too much in the way of that Post-Gifting Shock you Terran-borns always go through whenever Tuyuki Bolem or any of her friends visit you!»"
Hearing that — and INTERPRETING it — the Methodist preacher took a deep breath before he slowly sat up. A quick glance around revealed that he was in the living room of his house. A look outside into the backyard showed that the lawn was pristine. Noting that, he then winced as the memories came...
Memories of a simple preacher living on Yiziba's northern polar continent...
Memories of a time that made the prophecies of the Book of Revelations seem TAME in comparison.
Memories of when the preacher allowed the Great Forge of the First Race to bless him with the power that made his first-self and all successive incarnations known throughout the two sagas of the Great Show of Life as the Guardian Shepherd of the North, Botoemr'bu ("Gospel")...
Memories of how said preacher had helped many monks and nuns get people clear of the insane battle zones rocking the urban centres of Yiziba as everything flew apart at the seams and the Starvation Times descended on that world...
Memories of how he had inspired three incredible scientists from Yiziba's most powerful democratic nation — the first incarnation of the R'beruo-tim (the "Circle of Thought") — to use their incredible Gifts to save a planet full of hungry people and bring forth a paradise.
How it had happened...
...and how it had FAILED so badly.
After all, even if one's basic needs for bread, water and shelter were met...
...it hadn't chased away the animal lusts still lurking in the hearts of those of the World of the Forge that effectively guaranteed the Dawn of Power would erupt with the sheer destructive force it unleashed to transform the Yizibajohei into something truly extraordinary in the very first place.
Reflecting on that, he gazed up at the slender man who had brought him back inside after he had been Gifted. "Lu'unum Tene...?" he hesitantly asked.
That made the dark-haired man smile in delight. "Not bad?" he asked in turn with accented English, which made David immediately think he was a native of Mississippi.
"Not as bad, I believe," the preacher confessed. The man before him was the current incarnation of the Speedy Flyer, Lu'unum ("Streak"). A mid-level FISS-type with the ability to fly at near hyper-warp speeds in deep space, he was an independent who often teamed with many battle groups of "faces" to keep those who might try to force themselves upon defenceless norms on other planets from unleashing a multi-planet intergalactic war. "What was Master Rimmim doing?"
"He's upset that Miss Tuyuki seems to be trying to bring only faces back as she and that soul-split boy replica of hers tries to get people here Gifted," the man born Ha'aku Asim answered. "Leno — that's Rimmim's birth name, Leno Lu'umlo — feels it's not right for the faces to have all the 'fun', so he's been collecting Gift crystals that he and his friends have found all over Yiziba and are moving to spread them all over Earth." He shook his head. "It's pissing off Margo Black big time and giving Kasuga Ayumu a few headaches. Wouldn't surprise me if Margo forces his death scene..."
David nodded; he knew of the current incarnation of the Goddess Who Walks Among Men thanks to the Jesuits he had spoken to a month ago. "And Margo is...?"
"Litronie Erba."
That made the native of Middletown wince. "A heel?"
Ha'aku blinked, then shook his head, a wry chuckle escaping him. "Nah! She's downright sociable these days! More anti-face than anything else! She's working for your version of President R'bosyuo in this country as a special hit-girl. She got that religious goose-stepping heel that arranged for those towers in that city to the northeast of here to be brought down by flying airships a few seasons back."
That made David's eyes widen. The Vatican's internal spy agency had sensed something like that had happened to Usāmah bin Lādin, but hadn't had proof; given the omniversal nature of the Yizibajohei, the Jesuits who attended the synod at Lake Junaluska had passed that on. "I will pray for her."
That made the Speedy Flyer gazed in concern at him. "You okay?"
The preacher blinked as he gazed down on his white traditional-pattern jumpsuit with the golden shepherd's rod insignia on his chest, gold belt and boots; that was topped by a gold-trimmed red hooded cape. Grateful that he now possessed considerable empathic and touch-healing powers, the current incarnation of the Guardian Shepherd of the North could only smile at the incredible Gift — and yes, he was capitalizing that word — that the Lord had just handed him.
He had been a spiritual caretaker and therapist to his flock.
Now he could still be that...
...and do so much more.
"Thank you, Lord," he then whispered as he gazed on the image of the Savior hanging on one wall. "I understand Your message to me. I shall not fail."
"Amen."
Hearing that from Ha'aku, David smiled in delight. "Tell me everything about what is happening back home," he bade as he waved his guest to his dining room...
Wilmington, near Brandywine Zoo, that moment...
"Alright...let's see what I got...!"
Megan Baynard grinned in anticipation as she pulled out the box she had just snatched from some passerby while trolling the downtown section of Delaware's largest city. She usually gave most of what she got from her clients to her "boss" Larry Clayton. However, she often stole a few things from Larry — loose jewellery, sometimes a little extra cash or something else that might be interesting — for her personal use. Whenever she had to deal with Larry, Megan's cut of whatever "prize" she often risked her neck and freedom to obtain was, in her humble opinion, always too small for her liking.
The previous evening, she noticed that the guy she had hooked up with when he had come to visit Larry at his apartment in the Hilltop section of town had been carrying around a small box, similar to what one might use to carry a wedding ring. Figuring he probably didn't deserve a wife if he was a frequent customer of Larry of all people, Megan nabbed it just before she left to return back to her small flat across the Brandywine Creek near the zoo of the same name. There was no way the guy would report it stolen; he had known all along that the high school dropout was still well under eighteen years of age.
Once she was safe inside her apartment — which had been provided to her by Larry in one of the good things he had ever done for her since she joined up with him two years ago — she sat down on her bed and opened the box. Inside, she was surprised to see a glittering multi-layered crystal with an outer skin of diamond around an inner sheath of ruby and an onyx black core within it. Blinking in curiosity — even if she wasn't experienced in jewellery, Megan was quick to realize this was no ordinary sparkler — she pulled it out to allow it to rest in her hand. How much can I get out of this...? she wondered...
The memories hit her like a tidal wave. Memories of a world that had burned like nothing no one on Earth could ever have imagined. Memories of people — sometimes women, sometimes men — who suffered like she had; Megan's father had lost his job in the stock market crash of a few years before, driving him to drink and making the young girl flee from home when his abuse grew too much. Thinking on that, she then experienced the memories of the first of twenty-six people the crystal now melting into her body, radiating her with huge amounts of mesonium, experienced.
Tene lomher'buo, Megan Elaine Baynard...!
As the voice of the very spirit of the Seeker's Forge over two hundred light-years from Sol echoed in her room, Megan moaned as the intensity of the memories bombarding her soul increased, focusing on the first person to be Gifted this way. How a woman from a place that made Nazi Germany look like a garden tea party discovered the means to conceal herself with the power of her very mind, making her invisible to most anyone, especially the goose-steppers who were trying to keep order in a time when the concept was becoming to be seen as sheer evil. How said woman developed a powerful form of clairvoyance that allowed her to "see" through almost everything she confronted.
The memories of that woman who became the Spectral Observer...
Nesu...TIMR'BUO!
As that godlike voice again echoed through the room, the newest incarnation of Timr'buo ("Witness") gasped in relief before she blinked, then looked down at herself. Her street clothes had naturally vanished, being replaced by a super-cool jumpsuit of the newer sleeveless halter top design. Such was a dark grey affair with onyx black belt and boots, an eye of God-like insignia poised over her cleavage. Relaxing herself as she felt the storm of knowledge and experience that came with the Gifting settle into her mind, the newest version of the Spectral Observer took a deep breath.
Damn! That was fucking PRICELESS!
With that, she sat on the bed, grateful people in neighbouring apartments were out so they wouldn't complain about hearing the Conservator's voice boom over the scene as the Gifting came to her...
Before dawn on Saturday...
"Hey, Taree! Wake up!"
The tattooed teenager in the bed in another part of the apartment block Megan lived in stirred, looking around. "Meg...?" Taree Printz moaned out. "Wha' th' fuck's goin' on, girl...? Not even light 'side..."
"I know," Megan's voice echoed out of the very air around him though he couldn't actually see her. "That's why we gotta go NOW, boy! Cops are on their way!"
That did it!
"THE COPS?!" Taree yelped as he jolted upright, quickly scanning around his bedroom. Like Megan, Taree had been the child of a victim of the great recession that had hit America's banking sector a few years ago. He had also been brought into Larry Clayton's "employ" to troll the streets of Wilmington and even go as far north as Philadelphia and obtain interesting things by whatever means possible to be pawned off. "Aw, shit! What are we gonna do, Meg?! If Larry's gettin' arrested...!"
"Relax," Megan said reassuringly as she allowed herself to appear before him, making him gape in shock at such a display. "I've found a better career for us." Taking a moment to pose herself in front of him — Megan and Taree had been "friends with benefits" for about a year now — she added, "'Sides, Larry deserves what he's getting. None of us have hit eighteen yet! He ain't gettin' outta prison, 'specially since the cops have plenty of evidence against him. Let's go!"
"Holy shit..." he breathed out on seeing that cut of jumpsuit, instantly recognizing that as the same pattern of uniform many shipgirls around the world wore. "You're not some warship spirit...?"
She gaped at him, then winked. "You're kinda close, man!"
"What do you mean?!"
Megan gave him a suggestive wink. "You're just going to have to find out..."
As he felt certain parts of his body stir at such a display, he got up, walking over to gently embrace the Spectral Observer from behind, allowing his now-rigid manhood to rest in the crevice of her well-formed buttocks. "Damn! Did I ever tell you how hot you are at times, Megan?" he purred into her ear.
Before they could enjoy a pleasant kiss, a flash of energy allowed a device shaped like a paperback novel to appear on the small dresser in front of Megan. Looking at it, she grinned on seeing that it was the most handy thing the first Academician had ever made for the residents of Yiziba. "Cool!" she said with a grin as she grabbed the PAA and allowed it to scan her upgraded DNA.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Our ticket to a way better place than this, Taree! Hang on tight!"
And in a flash of energy, both teleported away from Earth...
Wilmington Hospital, after breakfast...
"Hey, sis! I gotcha another Beanie Baby on my way here."
Chelsea Miller gave her brother a smile as she took the stuffed animal. The nurses had just taken her tray of liquid food away. "Thanks, Corey," the bald leukemia patient moaned as she hugged the Beanie Baby with what little power she had left. "Kinda wish I could take my collection with me when I go..."
Hearing that made her brother tense. While he was personally grateful that their parents had been able to keep their jobs at the Bank of America's offices on Kennett Pike northwest of downtown — which guaranteed they'd still be covered by the company's sponsored health insurance plan — there were things that still couldn't be beaten. "Don't talk like that!" he snapped before pausing to catch his breath. Damn! He had to do something about overreacting to what was happening to Chelsea. "You're gonna beat this," he then said in a more conciliatory tone. "One way or another, you're beating this!"
She gave him a weak smile. "The doctors say it's bad. Chemo seems less and less likely to work." Her eyes then teared as she reached over to grasp his hand in reassurance. "Face it, bro...I'm done for."
"NO!" Corey snapped as he reached over to grip her shoulders. "I am NOT going to let you die, Chelsea! It AIN'T gonna happen, okay?!" he vowed.
She gaped at him before giving him a smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead. Feeling that made him blink before he pulled his hands back, moving to sit down on the chair next to her bed; given the nature of Chelsea's illness, she had been given a private room. Burying his face in his hands, he tried not to sob at the idea of being forced to bury his own sister so soon in life.
Why...?
Why was Fate so cruel to do THIS to her...?
Why...?
As she remained silent — they had been through many scenes like this over the last six months since Chelsea was admitted to intensive care — he took a deep breath as the idea that had been percolating in the back of his mind since he had an interesting conversation with one of his classmates at the campus of the University of Delaware near where the Miller family resided again echoed in his mind. A woman who was WAY more than a political science freshman who had been personally recommended to attend the school by none other than Josh Lyman, deputy chief of staff to President Josiah Bartlet!
Remembering the concepts that had been dropped down on her head by Samantha Applegate — whom Corey definitely saw as potential girlfriend material if a certain concept that was quite alien even for Terrans or their blood relatives on the World of the Forge didn't come into play — he took a deep breath. "Chel, what if there was another way?" he quietly asked, making her stare at him with concern; hearing such a serious tone of voice from him always creeped her out. "What if there's a way to get rid of the leukemia AND become WAY better than what you are now?" He gave her an intensive look.
"Okay! You are SERIOUSLY creeping me out...!"
"Sam's a Yizibajohei."
Silence.
More silence.
Still more silence.
Then...
"What the heck is that?"
Corey smirked, he giving her a knowing look. "Shortly after I met Sam when she began attending classes at the university, she told me something that will scare you silly..."
The Bethany Beach Training Site (sixty miles east of south from Wilmington), after nightfall...
"See! I told you you'd be okay!"
"Catch me if you can, bro!"
"I'm gonna get you!"
Watching the siblings soar around over the main training area of the Delaware Army National Guard near the border with Maryland, Doctor John Milford could only nod in delight. Much that he had high hopes in dealing with Chelsea Miller's illness when she had been admitted half a year ago, the specific nature of her leukemia soon drove the young oncologist to despair. Seeing someone die THAT young...
"Good work, Doctor."
Hearing that teasing voice from the leader of the Kimr'be Domgam (the "Angel Corps") who had come at Corey's request to help Gift his sister, the native of Dover could only smile. "Miss Applegate, I hardly did anything. I was worried about what inducing all that mesonium into Miss Miller's body would do to her, but given how mesonium often helps people recover from radiation poisoning..."
Hearing that, the adopted native of Brooklyn smiled. While having not felt the "time of the month" — as her sister Avalonians called the sudden, unexpected coming of the mad urge to forge a marei'cha bond with a potential life-partner — when she first met Corey Miller in September, the current incarnation of the True Noble of the Centre, Tuor'bo ("Princess"), definitely saw the native of Wilmington as potential surei'cha material. It hadn't taken her long to convince him to take a Gift himself, allowing him to become the current incarnation of the Cheerful Assassin, R'betato ("Bravo"); that Gift gave the bankers' son mid-range FISS powers and the experience of a master assassin from the western equatorial continent of Yiziba who had turned his back on his dictator and struck out on his own, hovering from being a nominal heel to a harsh anti-face depending on his incarnation. Much that having Margo Black at his personal beck and call whenever someone of that power was needed to deal with something nasty made the President's life much easier, it was always wise to stack one's deck with ace chips to make sure that if a power play was needed, America would win in the long term.
And while it did bother the Terran-turned-Avalonian-turned-Yizibajohei university freshman that the hidden "metahuman race" that was now starting among the nations of Earth was an ominous replay of what had led to the Dawn of Power on Yiziba two sagas ago, Samantha couldn't ignore what giving the Gift of the Night Warrior, Dakeroe ("Moonrise"), had done to her boyfriend's sister.
It will all work out...! the current incarnation of the True Noble mused...
Just like old times, Corey mused to himself as he looped over the lower reaches of Delaware Bay, keeping an eye on his sister as she exercised her own powers and moved to bleed off the considerable Post-Gifting Shock she was now experiencing after months cooped up in a hospital bed.
The bankers' son hadn't been really surprised that Chelsea had become someone like Moonrise; she had always been something of a night owl. Fortunately, she was one of those people who didn't need as much sleep as others even if she tried to get the necessary amount of shut-eye needed to stay awake in classes; when she started having bouts of tiredness as she was going through her sophomore year of high school, Corey and his parents realized right away that something was wrong.
Much that he was more than grateful to Samantha for introducing the subject of being Gifted as a way of saving Chelsea's life — the ability to become an Avalonian was something President Bartlet wanted to keep top secret until such time as the xenophobia that had been growing since the revelations of the alien presence on Earth got out in April — Corey had to admit that seeing his sister become the Night Warrior THIS way was a relief; on hearing that her leukemia had taken a massive turn for the worse, he had been tempted to sneak her out of the hospital and get her to the Cave of the Future right away. This way, Chelsea would get her life back, gain an exciting career as an undercover metahuman operative answerable to the American government and be able to finish high school.
And he would watch over her all the way.
He was her big brother.
He would be there when she needed it.
No matter what.
Fin...
WRITER'S NOTES
This omake occurs in the time of Parts Two to Eight in Book One of the main story.
Translation list and source language: Bolem — Lady, honorific used for a Gifted woman (Yizibajohei); Tene — Lord, honorific used for a Gifted man (Yizibajohei).
Writing wise, this omake was the first appearance of Leno Lu'umlo (Millennium). In the timeline of this story, he will appear in a planned short story written by Dr. Tempo based on John McCrae's web series Worm. He also makes an impact in another of Dr. Tempo's stories, Of Gifts and Semblances.
The man known to Yizibajohei as Batae Erba (literally "healer of destruction") first appeared in Part Nine in Book One of the main story; he would be fully revealed as such in Part Thirty-four.
The members of the Circle of Thought were also introduced in Book One: Tsuruya Rumiko (the Sage) appeared in Part One, Elizabeth Wakefield (the Academician) first appeared in Part Two and Tánja Chapáeva (the Philosopher) appeared in Part Forty-Four. Note that both Elizabeth and Tánja were background characters in Of Gifts and Semblances; the former would also appear alongside her fellow Sweet Valley High characters in Friendship is Yizibajohei.
The current president of the Free Planetary State of Yiziba, known as R'bosyuo ("Lider"), was first mentioned in Part Twenty-seven; she wouldn't appear until Part Thirty-five. She is Aruka Damasu, the clone twin of Aruka Ran who first appeared in The Senior Year story "What Price For Love?"
The story of Samantha Applegate (Princess) is better explained in the thirteenth omake.
