THE SECRET COLONY OF YAKUSHIMA
Chapter 7: "Origin"
A Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.


"And I'm giving you and your bunch here to the count of one to get the Hell out of here - - or I start firing."

The macaque sitting in the chair tensed visibly. Dr. Kuroi looked at Sailor Uranus and could plainly see that the senshi meant every word of her threat.

"But Sailor Uranus," the macaque pleaded, "we are no longer creatures of the wild! This is our home now! It isn't right that you come in and seize it from us with your superior strength! Not after you made us this way!"

"One," Uranus replied stonily.

"Wait!" Dr. Kuroi shouted, jerking at the arm Uranus held the Space Sword in. "If they were going to attack us, they would have by now! Can you Senshi stop bullying your way through life for just one moment?"

"I'm trying to defend us!" Uranus snapped. "I don't know how a bunch of macaques got smart enough to talk and shoot guns! All I know is that Hiroyama-San is dead because of these things! And I'm not going to give them a chance to kill again!"

"It wasn't them!" Kuroi argued. "But if you fire on them, you'll be giving them a reason to retaliate! Sometimes retaliating blindly can have even worse consequences than doing nothing!"

Uranus looked at her. And, unbidden, a memory came to the Senshi, that of an alien visitor who she attacked blindly, who she wounded and whose wound set loose a pathogen on the planet that nearly claimed the life of the woman Uranus cherished above all else.

"Talk, not violence and retribution," Kuroi continued. "Isn't that your queen's favorite saying? Isn't that what you Senshi are supposed to be all about?" Kuroi's eyes almost seemed ready to burst into flames. "Those ice giants practically destroyed everything I hold dear! But I know living for revenge against them is pointless! And I'm not a high and mighty Senshi!" The doctor glared a challenge at Uranus. "And besides, I'd kind of like to find out how a macaque learned how to talk in the first place. So put your big macho weapon away and try to work this out."

In response, Uranus looked away, grinning to herself. The reaction wasn't what Kuroi expected.

"Nice speech, Sensei," Uranus said. "Put me right in my place. Guess I still slip into old habits sometimes." Uranus lowered the Space Sword. "OK, I don't blast them." She glanced at the macaque. "Unless you try something." She looked back at Kuroi. "OK with you if I contact Yakushima Airport? Since you're running this show?"

"If you're going to be a baby about it," huffed Kuroi.

"Um," the macaque began anxiously, "may I - - request - - that you not do that? Contact with your human authorities would bring searchers, parties to rescue you. And it would inevitably lead to our discovery. And that's something we'd like to avoid."

The primate got a suspicious look from Uranus.

"And then there's Bungah and his band." The macaque sighed. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning."


The ferry from Kagoshima to Yakushima Island was about forty-five percent along in its trip across the strait separating the Pacific Ocean from the Sea of Japan. On deck, two women watched as the craft slowly neared the tropical island, while around them other passengers whispered and stared. Just as many stared because of the fact that one of the women had green hair in a culture that still valued uniformity as stared because they recognized the famous violinist and artist. Of course just as many were staring at her companion, a blonde of American origin who was as exotic to most of them as anyone else from half a world away might be. Just then the green-tressed artist sneezed into her surgical mask.

"Michi-Chan, should you be out on deck?" Constance fussed. "I know its tropical air, but it's still sea air and it can't be good for your cold."

"Probably not," Michiru sighed. "But I'll go crazy below decks. At least this way I can watch and be certain that we're getting closer to the island." She gripped the railing tighter. "Oh, it annoys me so that I can't be there looking for her!"

"Well, you're a Senshi," Constance suggested. "Can't you fly there?"

"We don't fly, Mom," Michiru replied patiently. "We can do a lot of things, but fly isn't one of them."

"Well, I don't know. Hell, up until a few months ago, I didn't even know you were a senshi." Constance glanced at her daughter. "Oh, and thank you VERY MUCH for telling me."

"If I had told you, would you have been able to keep it a secret?" Michiru looked at her with a cocked, accusing eyebrow.

Constance gave her a guilty grin. "Probably not. I probably would have been on every talk show in Japan bragging about it. After all, it's not every day that your little baby grows up to be a famous artist, violinist AND senshi."

"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't tell Dad either," Michiru offered. "How did he take it, by the way?"

"Your father? Let's see, first he was shocked," Constance recalled. "Then he was annoyed that you didn't confide in him. Then he was worried that you were risking yourself. But ultimately he was proud that you were using your skills to become an asset to society." She smiled at a memory. "Although he still grumbles about you parading around making a spectacle of yourself in that short skirt."

Michiru reflected the smile. "He was the same way when I dyed my hair green."

"I reminded him that I wore a lot less when I was on stage and he didn't seem to mind then," Constance chuckled. "He blusters a lot, but ultimately he gives in on little things like that."

Nervously Michiru consulted her watch. "Still an hour until we dock. Oh, I wish I could fly." Then she coughed, reminding them both again of her ill-health.

"Queen Serenity can't help?" Constance asked. "She always seems to be jumping here and there helping people."

"She's - - sick, as I understand it," Michiru related. "Knowing her, I would imagine she'd already be there if she could be. Serenity is very hands on when it comes to helping people. Sometimes a little too hands on."

"Helping people is a good thing," Constance commented.

"Knowing when to stop before you endanger your health or safety is a good thing, too," Michiru countered.

"Well, we forget about our own safety when someone we love is threatened," Constance told her, then smiled knowingly. "Don't we." Michiru, knowing what her mother was referring to, just focused on the horizon. "Maybe she loves more people than we do."

Before the two women could continue their discussion, Michiru's communicator began to signal. Michiru engaged it as Constance watched. On the little watch face appeared Artemis.

"Hello, Artemis," Michiru wheezed. "Any news?"

"You didn't tell me about the cat," Constance whispered.

"Any news?" Michiru repeated, dismissing her mother.

"Yakushima airport is reporting that search helicopters have located the crash site," Artemis reported. Just by his tone, Michiru could tell it wasn't good news, but she listened anyway. "They haven't been able to land yet. But - - they don't see any signs of life."

A wave of emotion swept over Michiru. She struggled mightily to suppress it. Tears began to well in spite of her efforts. Seeing her state, Artemis gently disconnected. At once, Michiru was engulfed by her mother, trapped in the woman's embrace. It did nothing to help her suppress what she was feeling.

"It'll be all right," Constance whispered to her. "Haruka's a survivor. She'll get through this and come back to you."

That did it. Tears streamed down Michiru's face and she shuddered against her mother helplessly. The adult in her silently cursed herself for losing control. But the little girl in her was grateful for her mother's comforting embrace.


"You're both familiar with Dr. Hashimoto and his colleagues?" the macaque asked.

"No. I was recruited for my medical skills in case there was a problem," Dr. Kuroi replied. "The facility hadn't called in for several months - - since the ice disaster. But I didn't know any of them personally. That was Hiroyama-San. The one who - - died."

"And I just flew the helicopter," Uranus added unemotionally. "But given what we've found, I'm beginning to wonder if this is why Hiroyama went to Ami and asked for help. Just how much did he know?"

"I'm not able to answer that," the macaque responded. "It wouldn't surprise me if Hashimoto-Sensei told him. It was quite a shock to him."

"How did it happen?" Kuroi asked.

"Hashimoto's primary objective in being here was to study the behavior patterns of my species and possible links to genetic coding," the macaque began, absently rubbing the back of its paw against its furry chin. "He brought along two other researchers and two technicians to maintain the equipment. But one of the other researchers, a Kunio Hirokane, had other theories he wanted to test."

Uranus raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Hirokane had a formula for inducing genetic mutation," the macaque continued. "He wanted to test it to see how specific genetic mutation could affect behavior patterns - - simply put, he wanted to see if he could increase the learning capacity of non-human species. As I understand it, he attempted to convince Hashimoto-Sensei to allow him to capture some of my fellow macaques and use them as test subjects. He'd even captured a pair before he was ordered to release them by Hashimoto-Sensei. So he introduced the formula by injecting it into food and leaving it in the jungle for us to find."

"Obviously it worked," commented Uranus.

"Better than Hirokane had expected," replied the macaque. "I and the rest of the macaques here in this building were exposed to Hirokane's formula. Within days we began to experience increased intellectual growth. By studying the researchers from a distance as they studied others in the tribe, we were able to learn human behavior. I myself heard them talking and gradually learned enough language to understand them. At night we would sneak into this facility and teach ourselves to read, write and operate their computers through clandestine experimentation."

"All these macaques talk?" Uranus asked incredulously.

"No. The only ones who were able to develop verbal skills were Bungah and I," the macaque shook his head. "I don't know why. Maybe it was something unique to our DNA. Maybe it was the amount of exposure to the formula. We all read at a college level, and Gohah over there is particularly adept at mechanics. But only Bungah and I speak."

"Bungah," Kuroi said. "That's the one with the gun?"

"Yes," the macaque nodded sadly. "But we're getting ahead of the story. One evening while on one of our clandestine trips into the facility, we were discovered. I made the mistake of trying to reason with them instead of taking the tribe and fleeing into the jungle. When Hirokane realized that his formula had worked, he was naturally proud and excited. He told Hashimoto-Sensei, and was surprised when his colleague didn't share his excitement. A terrible argument ensued between them. Hirokane wanted to bring his discovery back to the world and present it for all to see. Hashimoto argued against it, citing that his experiment was uncontrolled and potentially dangerous, that publicity would ultimately mean the destruction of the rainforest from an invasion of the curious and those wishing to exploit us, and that it was a violation of his trust. I sided with Hashimoto-Sensei, in that I too feared that publicity would invite an incursion of humans into the forest and destroy it. Because humans have an unfortunate tendency to destroy whatever they touch."

"I won't argue," Uranus commented.

"I was saying as much to Bungah when Hirokane lunged at Hashimoto," the macaque resumed. "They struggled for a bit until the other humans pulled Hirokane away. Hashimoto lost his balance, fell backwards, struck his head on the side of that trunk," and the macaque pointed to a particle board case with metal trim used to transport electronic equipment, "and died."

"Hashimoto-Sensei is dead?" Dr. Kuroi asked. "What did Hirokane and the others do?"

"One of them said that all of this had to be reported now," the macaque answered. "I had already been talking to Bungah, telling him that the world knowing about this would spell the end of our life here." The macaque sighed, looking haunted. "So he followed Hirokane's example."


When Michiru Kaioh and her mother Constance Kaioh disembarked from the ferry boat docked at the Yakushima port, they found Minako Aino waiting for them. Immediately Minako pointed to Michiru, who was wearing her surgical mask.

"What's with the mask?" Minako asked. "There's easier ways to travel incognito, you know." Minako was concealing her own world famous look with her usual short-hair black wig and some very large sunglasses.

"I have a cold," Michiru wheezed. Immediately Minako flung her hand over her mouth and nose.

"OMG, don't give to me!" she gasped. "If we have to delay shooting because I'm sick, my producers will freak!"

"Your concern is touching," Michiru replied wearily. "And considering that you were in the middle of filming last time I heard, what are you doing here?"

"Artemis figured you could use a hand searching for Haruka," Minako explained. "And since my identity is known now, I had a clause put into my contract that says if a Senshi emergency comes up, they have to film around me."

"Michi-Chan, is she someone famous?" Constance whispered to her daughter. Minako heard it but attributed it to her disguise.

"Don't let this get around," Minako leaned in, "but I'm Minako Aino."

Constance thought for an uncomfortable moment. Then she brightened.

"The movie actress?" Constance gasped conspiratorially. "I love your stuff! Well, except for that horrible slasher film you did."

"Hey, it paid the rent for a few months," Minako shrugged.

"Honey, you don't have to tell me," Constance assured her. "I know just what it's like trading on your looks to get a paycheck. If you saw some of the dives I danced in . . ."

"Can we focus on Haruka, please?" Michiru interjected with a brittle tone. "I'd like to see where the crash site is and what the search parties have found before we go in."

"Already arranged," Minako smiled. "I asked Superintendent Sakurada to phone ahead to the Yakushima flight authorities and clear our participation. All we have to do is find a quiet spot to change."

"There's no time. Besides, our identities aren't secret anymore," Michiru said. She raised her hand, fingers splayed, right there on the dock. "Neptune Millennium Power Make Up!"

Transforming right there on the dock, in front of dozens of milling tourists and dock workers, Michiru Kaioh disappeared in a dazzling flash of light and was replaced by Sailor Neptune.

"Oh, Michi-Chan!" Constance squealed with delight. "That is so - - amazing! Do you feel different? Do you remember me? Or are you Sailor Neptune only now?"

"I remember you, Mom," Neptune smiled gently.

"Your cold is gone!" her mother gasped. By this time Minako had transformed into Sailor Venus.

"We need to get to the airport as quickly as possible," Neptune said to Venus.

"Got a car waiting," Venus smiled. Neptune seemed surprised. "I flew down. I had plenty of time while you were on the bullet train. This way."

Venus led them to an expensive four-door black Toyota Century parked in a lot. Neptune and Constance both looked surprised.

"I got money," Venus shrugged. She started to get into the driver's seat. Constance got into the back, but Neptune hung back. Venus looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Hey, my car. I drive."

"I thought your license was suspended," Neptune asked.

"No, Minako's license is suspended. They didn't say nothing about Sailor Venus," smirked Venus. Still Neptune hung back. "You want to find Haruka?"

"All right," Neptune sighed and climbed into the front passenger side. "I'm willing to brave any risk it takes to find Haruka and make sure she's safe."

"Jeez, I'm not THAT bad," muttered Venus.


"Bungah killed him," Uranus concluded.

"Leaped onto the man and tore his throat out with his teeth," the macaque confessed painfully. "You have to understand, we are not a violent species unless provoked. Our first instinct is to run, not attack. Bungah thought he was defending the tribe and - - somehow - - the notion of killing to protect our secret became associated with that thought. After he killed Hirokane, he leaped on one of the technicians and began trying to kill him. Four of the others of the tribe imitated him and attacked as well. They killed the two technicians. The other researcher escaped into the jungle." The macaque's face twisted up with emotion. "I didn't understand the definition of the word 'horror' until that moment."

"How long ago was this?" Kuroi asked.

"Months ago. Just a month after the great thaw."

"And that's why those macaques attacked us in the jungle? They thought they were defending their area from human incursion?"

"So where did they get the guns?" Uranus asked. "The researchers?"

"The internet," the macaque almost smiled. Uranus silently questioned the response. "Anything can be bought on the internet these days. And, thanks to Hirokane-Sensei's formula, we are both smarter and more wily. Bungah and his band set up a shipping drop at the tourist rest stop about twenty miles from here, then used Hashimoto-Sensei's credit card to purchase several pistols and a rifle, as well as ammunition, from an on-line gun dealer. It's also how we secure fuel for the generator."

"Well, now I've heard everything," sighed Uranus.

"What happened to the researcher who escaped?" Kuroi asked.

"Bungah and his group hunted the man down," the macaque reluctantly admitted, "and killed him. I've tried to reason with him, but he will not listen. That is why I ask you not to report this - - not yet, at least. I know our evolution will be discovered by the outside world eventually. It is inevitable and I am - - resigned to it. But to bring in humans now will only be giving Bungah more targets for his guns."

Kuroi and the macaques both watched Sailor Uranus as she contemplated her two courses of action. Finally the Senshi spoke up.

"All right," Uranus said. "I hate to do it. I'm sure there are people worried about - - well, both of us. But you're right. We've got to neutralize this Bungah first. Or else more people are going to get killed like Hiroyama-San and the others. Any ideas where we can start?"

Continued in Chapter 8