I don't own Magic Knight Rayearth. It is the creation of the wonderful CLAMP.
Shorter update this time because the next section is proving tricky to work out to my liking. I hope you don't mind too much. Enjoy, and have a nice weekend.
Scars
by Maelstra
Scene 5: On the 139th Floor
With a sigh, Ascot leaned against the outside wall; the landing platform was empty. Why would Lafarga leave without me? Did he see me fall? Ascot let his shock wrap around him for several minutes. At last, he tried to look at his situation detachedly. Maybe the pilot of the ship refused to wait any longer – I delayed Lafarga a lot anyway . . . So . . . what can I do now?
This was a thorny problem. There were no ships in Ascot's immediate vicinity – and even if he were crazy enough to try to borrow one, he doubted he'd have any chance at figuring out how to fly it. So then . . . the only way back to Cephiro was to find someone willing to fly him there. But who? I wonder if that mean old Autozamian still has the soldiers out hunting for me. Or – what if they gave up because they saw me fall? That finally gave Ascot some hope. If everyone isn't out for my blood, then maybe I can find someone who will help me.
Ascot had a very short list of Autozamians that he knew: Eagle, who was still on Cephiro and so didn't count; Geo Metro, a friend of Eagle's who had arranged Lafarga and Ascot's trip in the first place; and Zazu, a hyperactive mechanic, another friend of Eagle's. Zazu, Ascot could not guess how to find. But Geo . . . Ascot recalled the man had said he worked in the hanger of the Motive Towers when he wasn't out on assignment. Geo would certainly give Ascot a hand. The big problem was that finding a single person on this unfamiliar world, even in a specific location, might not be easy. Regardless, it was Ascot's best chance.
"Actually," he muttered under his breath, "it's probably my only chance."
The next several hours passed rather depressingly. Ascot felt more and more hungry, tired, and lonely for anyone who would feel sorry for him. He first retraced his steps back down the tower, then tried to find a place with ordinary people. The hallways of the tower he was in were wide, tall . . . and mostly empty. He had to descend fifty floors before he encountered his first other person: a tall, stiff man with a couple of military-looking medals pinned to his shirt. The man was approaching Ascot face-on, but his eyes were unwaveringly fixed at a distant point before him. This was a small comfort because something about the man, in his face or form, reminded Ascot of the malevolent Autozamian officer from before. Ascot sucked up his breath and held it, trying to pass the man making as little noise as possible. He could feel his hands start to tremble as the man came closer – but then the soldier continued on, not breaking pace or even giving Ascot more of a cursory glance.
Ascot gasped in relief, making more noise than he intended to as he finally started breathing again. Immediately, he choked up again, worried that the other would find his behavior suspicious. For this reason, Ascot did not allow himself to look back, and instead just continued to the end of the hall, and immediately turned the corner and started to run as quietly as he could manage.
About a half hour later, after sneaking down an obviously long-unused staircase, Ascot found some people: non-military people. They were in a humongous room – at least the size of Cephiro's throne room – and they were all working around a large half-dome that was nestled into the floor and ringed about by mysterious mechanical devices.
Ascot walked up to them, his exhaustion letting him override his normal shyness. "Um – eh – excuse me? Do you live here . . . ?" Half a dozen people turned his way and gave him strange looks. Ascot decided to try a different tactic. He could already feel himself starting to flush from embarrassment. "Um . . . See, I'm not from around here . . . this tower, you know, and um . . . I was trying to find a friend, but I think I'm a little lost . . ."
"I should say so," a gruff, burly man answered. "This is an air treatment plant. Non-personnel aren't allowed in here." His expression became increasingly suspicious.
Ascot gaped a moment, then tried to recover quickly. "Um . . . yes, of course. See – that's why I'm lost. Obviously . . . I'm not supposed to be in here, right?"
"Where's this friend of yours supposed to be?" the man asked with a scowl.
"Oh . . . well . . . he just told me that he works in the Motive Towers . . ."
"Oh – Motive Towers, is it?" Suddenly, the man relaxed. "Oh, I see. So you just took the wrong stop on the subway, didn't you?"
"Well . . . I'm not sure I remember exactly how I got to this place . . . but, could you please tell me how to get to the Motive Towers from here?"
All of the workers but the one speaking went back to whatever they had been doing before, satisfied that Ascot was only scatterbrained and not a threat. The gruff guy snorted, snatched up a piece of paper and a writing stick from under a console, and started drawing a rough map. "No offense, but anyone who can't read the subway signs probably can't remember my directions. There now!" He gave Ascot the map. "That should be plenty clear enough. You just go straight through that hallway, up the third escalator, then take the elevator down to the eighth floor, cross the Amber skyway, hop on the moving walkway . . ."
Ascot did his best to remember what the man said, but he quickly became confused. He tried to follow along on the map, and hoped that at least would get him to where he wanted to go.
". . . and then you should reach the main offices, and then they can deal with you from there." The man paused and grinned. "Hey – you haven't by chance been out in the atmosphere recently, have ya?"
"Uh . . . actually, yes."
"Ah – that explains a lot. Look kid – no matter what the other guys say, it isn't macho – or smart. Folks in the older areas are still dropping from air poisoning. This is a serious problem, and even though they say Cephiro's trying to fix it, things still haven't changed. Okay?"
"Okay . . . ?" Ascot could make no sense of what the man had just said. His instinct was to admit everything then and there, explain that he was from Cephiro and that some crazy Autozamian had a thing against him. Fortunately, the old man at that moment gave him a hard slap on the shoulder and then turned away, back to his work. Ascot stumbled and took a step forward. "Um . . . thank you." The man only waved in acknowledgment, not turning around again. He pulled out a headband thing from a drawer, stuck it around his head. Ascot winced as the man did so, but could not turn away, some morbid fascination forcing him to watch even though the sight bothered him. The guy then took some wires and plugged them in, first into the headband and then into the computer. Then he just started staring off into space. Ascot gaped in horror, just the sight of it making him nauseous. At last, he broke from his paralysis and quickly fled from the room.
He broke into a run once he reached an empty hallway, and ran until the sight of the man melding his brain with the computer gradually faded from Ascot's mind. Finally he slowed, and massaged his head which had begun to throb. After a moment, Ascot unfolded the map and starting trying to figure out where he needed to go.
