"Well, our preliminary investigation of the cavern city suggests it is in excellent condition," Dr. Marion Jones said. "All wood has long since rotted away. We found evidence of humid periods in the past. The strange part is the complete lack of common items: pots, tools, remains. It appears to have been made and then immediately abandoned."
"How old do you think it is?" asked a reporter. It had been a month since the Scooby Gang had discovered the city and three weeks since it was declared cleansed of vampire activity. In the remaining time, almost all the forces of the Sunnydale University Archaeology department had been devoted to investigating the find. The team had just published the initial results in the University Forum, a local collection of works by grad students and professionals connected to the university.
"I will be very honest: that is very difficult to tell," Dr. Jones said simply. "With the absence of any organic material we have nothing to carbon date. Also, we have seen quite clearly that what we consider normal for carbon-14 dating is not the same as on Earth. There will be some testing to determine the proper amounts in the upcoming months. The other problem with dating is that we have no other corroborating evidence to date the site. Normally we will compare a research dig with other sources, primarily with written accounts or with similarly dated areas. We have no frame of reference for this world."
"Do you think it's safe for people to move in?"
"Is this a possibly solution to the housing crisis?"
"I do not know. I am not an engineer or an architect, so I do not know if it is safe to live there," Dr. Jones said simply. "In the coming months, after more research, our teams should be able to tell you more."
She ignored the great number of other questions as she stepped away from the podium. Mayor Wilkins stepped up to replace her. Next to him stood Kellindil and Peris dressed in their most formal clothing. The clear dislike between the two did not pass unnoticed by the press. Next to them were two dwarves, one dressed in full plate armor and the other, Fret, was dressed in fine robes.
"Thank you, Dr. Jones," the mayor said. He turned back to the press. "This is a momentous occasion for Sunnydale. I would like to introduce the new ambassadors to Sunnydale. This is Ambassador Kellindil of the Moonwood, which as I understand it is to the northwest of us. Many of you may remember him and Ambassador Fret from their visit earlier in the year. Next to Kellindil is Ambassador Peris of Zhentil Keep. Ambassador Peris was arriving as a diplomatic contingent last month when his party was attacked during last month's demon attack that cost us so many lives. Mr. Peris, it is a pleasure to see you alive and well. Beyond him is Ambassador Delwid Axegrinder of Citadel Adbar, our partners in the SunnyRail program. And lastly, but not least is Ambassador Fret, representing Silverymoon and Lady Alustriel."
"How has Zhentil Keep responded to our incarceration of their Ambassador and entourage?"
"They understood the suspicious arrival of their ambassador," the mayor said with his trademarked grin. "After some discussion we have patched relations between us."
"What about rumors of the economic/socio-political arm of Zhentil Keep, the Zhentarim? What about these rumors of their goals of aggrandizement?"
"At this time they are just that, rumors. When more information is gathered we will deal with each Ambassador and political neighbor accordingly for how they treat Sunnydale. At this point, these are our economic and political neighbors who have helped us through some hard times," Wilkins continued. "We thought we would never be able to complete the work on time until the Dwarven work crews arrived. At our new estimates, the first leg of the SunnyRail Accords will be complete by this time next year."
"Mr. Mayor, how are we going to pay for our supplies for this coming year, and how are they being shipped?" another reported asked. There were only ten reporters these days, as City Hall had reminded them to consolidate. Now there were four newspapers (all published online, as there was a distinct lack of paper mills in Sunnydale), and two television stations with three others in the works in Chinese, Japanese and Norwegian. Most of them ran syndicated shows and news.
"Currently we are receiving goods on credit," the mayor raised his hands to forestall questions until he had finished. "We have dealt with a significant portion of the debt by trading the metal from the armor worn by the demon forces. Apparently, it is a precious metal in these parts, a rare, but naturally occurring, alloy that is prized by our dwarven neighbors. For the rest of the debt we are attempting to negotiate possibilities. I will be sure to speak with everyone when we have more information on the final deals.
"How does the orc community fit into all of this?"
"I will turn this question over to General Hennessey of the SSDF," the mayor said, stepping back so the General could take the podium.
"Currently, the orc community is starving. We have thwarted seven attempts on caravans traveling through Turnstone Pass to Sunnydale," Hennessey said simply. "So far only two people have been harmed in the raids and there have been no fatalities. We have them contained, and have even left aid packages for them to eat. Currently they remain hostile, so diplomacy has been difficult. This is an ongoing situation."
"Why don't you simply drive them out of the valley?"
"They are a small group trying to survive," the general told the reporter. "If we drove them out, it could precipitate a greater conflict that Sunnydale is not prepared to fight. Similarly if Sunnydale was to kill them, they would be murdering civilians. I will not have this country make its start by wholesale murder. That perches us at the top of a slippery slope that would be all too easy to tumble down. Mr. Mayor?"
"Thank you, General," the Mayor said with a smile. "Are there any other questions?"
"When will the work restrictions be loosened?"
"Our goal is to have enough construction completed by this autumnal equinox," the mayor said as if he had anticipated the question, which he had. The debate of when to cut down on the work loads was ongoing and heated in the mayor's chambers. "This will also coincide with the return to school. This is our plan to synchronize our calendar with the local year. This will make for an unusually large summer, but business should return to normal at the expected date. Next? Yes, Mr. Wuther?"
"How is the SSDF planning on coordinating their forces with the newly expanded Watcher's Council?"
"Ah, yes," though he didn't show it, Richard Wilkins was not pleased by this question, it was something he had wanted to avoid. "As the Watcher's Council and the agency formerly known as the Initiative are combined, we will start to see some changes. Our goal is to have the Watcher's Council focus on situations as a supernatural police force. They will not be replacing the police, but will be specially trained for dealing with crimes involving the supernatural and will coordinate through liaisons with both the SSDF and the police department. These include attacks with dark magic, summoning demons, rogue demon attacks and various other problems. More accurately, the Watcher's Council will be doing the same job they had been, but will now be paid and answerable to review for their actions. And please, do not call them the X-Files."
There was a bit of chuckling about that. Ever since the press release about the Watcher's Council three weeks prior, the press had dubbed them the Sunnydale X-Files. The real focus was an excuse to plaster pictures of pretty young women and men on the TV.
"Their secondary goal will be as an interim Office of Foreign Affairs until we can develop the same process," Wilkins said. "Currently we are limited by the translation technology. When this has been overcome, the Watcher's Council will take a back seat on international affairs and focus on domestic security."
"I can honestly say we are still in mourning for the dead, but how can the poor response from the military give us any hope of survival?"
"…Last month we were caught in a terrible situation," the mayor began quietly. He was not his usual jovial self. "Sunnydale comes from a peaceful part of Earth. We had no need of massive arms or walls to protect us. In the end, we were naive and it cost us some very dear people. But we survived. We will learn from this and make sure that it never happens again. The only way we can go on is to learn from our mistakes. If we do not, we will never be able to survive."
"Thank you, no further questions, please," the Mayor said, flashing a somber smile as he left. The ambassadors continued after him to where they would be housed in Angel's Mansion, which was still the primary diplomatic building.
Two Weeks Prior
The Scooby Gang and the Initiative Soldiers had returned to the Initiative headquarters to find three of the cells with occupants. Two of these cells contained the people who had arrived unconscious on University grounds. This had been a bit of a sticky situation. After some deliberation, Giles decided to meet with the leader of the party, a Mr. Peris, while other agents interrogated several other members. They had blindfolded him and lead him around several staircases and in through doors (some of which had no walls, as new construction was not yet completed) and then sat him down in a room with only one window.
"Mr. Peris?" Giles wore the translation amulet so he could understand everything, but Peris could only understand him. "Please tell me why you have come to our city."
"When Lord Manshoon heard of your arrival, I was dispatched with a small team to observe you from a distance," Peris stated honestly. "I was not to enter the city until I was invited in."
"Interesting, and why was it that you entered before you were invited? Indeed, before we even knew of your existence," Giles asked, adding just a touch of the Ripper to his voice.
"My party was being slaughtered by an army of demons," the man said honestly. "I commanded my wizard to teleport us away. Something went wrong with the spell and we were transported to your city."
"Now I have questions about your definition of small," Giles said, glancing at the photographs in his hand. Each was a shot of the field where the demons had fought the Zhentarim. "We have it one good authority that there are at least four hundred bodies in this field. This is not what I would consider a 'small party.' Care to explain?"
"Yes, sir," Peris said. Giles was not sure if it was merely cultural differences or if the man was simply good at obscuring truth and lies, but the Watcher did not seem to be able to get a handle on the man. "When we discovered the army of demons, we sent back word. Lord Manshoon ordered a legion of our soldiers and a contingent of Black Cloaks to assist in removing the demons. We had attempted to use a Portal to the surface, but the demons were waiting. As a result we were slaughtered and only a small few of us remained."
"Thank you, we will take this under consideration," Giles said. He then turned and opened the door, nodding to the Agents to take him away. Three other agents had been watching outside the doors fell in step with him as they walked back to the conference room. Closing the door behind him, Giles sat at the head of the table. "What are your opinions?"
"All their stories collaborate," said the first agent. He was baby faced, and Giles couldn't remember his name, but he looked very familiar. O'Dell, or O'Neil or something. It would come to him in time. "From the two I spoke with they were a bit ill at ease with the photographs. The images did not disturb them, so much as that we knew about the incident."
"That was my impression as well," Carmichael reported. "They were also unsettled to have a woman interrogate them."
"Do you believe their story about Zhentil Keep? Our other ambassadors are not pleased with that organization's past actions," Giles said.
"I believe that Zhentil Keep is very interested in what we can provide them, not so much in what they can provide us," was the third Agent's response. He was a psychologist on staff originally intended to make patterns for HST activity. Although he was specifically chosen by Maggie Walsh, he was very good at his job and had barely blinked at the change in power. "Although several of the…Zhentarim?-I believe that is what they refer to themselves as. Although several of the Zhentarim are very hesitant to reveal anything about their own organizations other than the economic expansion, we know from other sources, they have military conquests in their region of the world. Their primary sphere of power is on the other side of the great desert to our East. They could very well see this as a stepping stone towards controlling this region as well."
"Limiting foreign powers to a single Ambassador and two aids is going to be the primary policy," Giles said. "The Zhentarim seem to be an organization which may push at the reins a bit. We shall have to keep a close eye on them. Now if you'll excuse me I have to make my report to the Mayor."
Two weeks later, the cleanup was well underway. Buildings in relatively good condition were repaired. Less fortunate buildings were cannibalized for building supplies. Anything that could be used was used. Other parts, like old bent nails were melted down into new nails, or similarly recycled. There were only a few parts that were unable to be salvaged. The most primary of these was vinyl siding. It was completely useless once broken and there were no replacements. Buildings were insulated and reinforced for winter weather. Everyone was working. Only a select few were not helping and those few were quickly caught and pressed into action.
For the Scooby Gang this meant that they seemed to have two jobs. The first was their original goal of demon and supernatural control. The second was whatever job in the city needed helpers. Buffy, Drizzt and Xander were helping construction crews build new homes in the hills around Sunnydale. It had been decided to keep the farm land around the city the way it was and build in the less arable lands outside. Giles was busy reorganizing and training the new Watcher's Council. Willow splitting her time between magical studies and computer database construction. One of the biggest goals was to make a database of every book in Sunnydale, so that additional copies could be made. One of Willow's jobs was to coordinate between the Watcher's Council and the Database to ensure that no "special" books were copied. Giles trusted that Willow would know the difference after her experience with Moloch. Any additional questions were to be directed to him.
Giles was trying to get some members of the magical community to join the Council, but that was easier said than done. It seemed the casters did not appreciate much of the involvement the government had brought into their lives. The sudden reveal of their groups had put an unwanted light on their activities. Since Alustriel was no longer meeting directly in Sunnydale, the fundamentalist crazies had decided to start putting pressure on the local spell-casters.
Amy Madison was one of the first people to be attacked. She had just returned home when a brick flew through her window. It was quickly followed by another. Somehow the Housecraft fanatics had discovered her other interests and had decided to start acting out what the bible said. And that apparently included stoning witches. Before the second brick had gone through the window, Mr. Madison had been on the phone to the police. Unfortunately, the crowd had caught on and dispersed before they could be caught. No arrests were made. It was labeled "under investigation" like most of the other crimes the police were not bothered to finish.
Food was the number one import for Sunnydale. Mages would teleport to a location well outside the city, drop off their loads and then would teleport out after receiving the receipt. People were having a hard time adjusting to the new diet. Sweets were practically unknown and anyone with any left hoarded them like dragons with treasure. Sunnydale had one export that was changing the North: Chocolate.
There was only one harvest so far and half of that had been used as gift packages to the various heads of state in the surrounding areas. The remaining half was planted in a specially built greenhouse that was just getting finished. The genetic pool was dangerously small, but it was all they had to work with. The heads of state were so impressed with the taste, they had demanded more. Sunnydale had used this demand to ensure more credit and labor. As such, almost the entire next year's stock was spoken for already. All in all, it seemed to be working out well. More work was getting done which meant more people had homes, which in turn meant there was less complaining.
Housing was not done in the traditional American style of one family to a building. Instead, large buildings were built along several roads on either side of the valley. These roads curved up the ridges that sandwiched Sunnydale and then followed them up around the newly formed lake. Any place with good soil was conserved for farming land. The remaining land was divided up into several sections, two of which were housing and mining. Housing was the priority, but mining would be one of the few ways that Sunnydale would be able to pay its debts in the long run. There were a few other categories, but they were not anything people were worrying about at the moment and the land was reserved and left empty.
Agriculture had begun in the flatlands, but it was not intended to produce a large crop to feed Sunnydale. This year was dedicated towards building a larger seed bank. Plants that were only few in number were cloned and replanted. It was surprising how much could be accomplished in such a short period of time. Unfortunately, the common person did not see much of this as progress, but as a hoarding of resources. The agro-business way is to use and use and use, ignoring all common sense, and most of Sunnydale was made up of people who had grown used to agro-business and the younger generations had known no other way. In a country where most people never knew where their food came from, they had no experience as to how difficult it is to actually raise food from seed to harvest. The reality of no fresh tomatoes year round was sinking in slowly.
The one reality people did embrace was geothermal heat. After some additional exploration, geologists had found many places surrounding Sunnydale where vents bubbled up boiling water. Engineers were quick to harness this in their new designs. Hopefully, by the time winter came along, most new buildings would be naturally heated by the power of the earth. Geothermal power was also being used for the new greenhouses being planned in the renovations of the Sunnydale Zoo.
The Zoo was going to become a large biosphere for tropical species, with an emphasis on the plant and insect life rather than the animals. Anything that could survive in the colder weather would now be forced to live outside. After long deliberation, it had been decided to attempt to keep the zoo animals alive. Everyone knew this would not be possible for some species and from a purely utilitarian point of view, foolish, but the public would not permit most of the animals to be killed. Many saw the Sunnydale zoo as a remnant of the world they had lost. This was another case of nostalgia being more powerful than common sense.
Power generation stations were the next to be built after housing and geothermal power was the first on the list of ideas. The Sunnydale Hydrodam project had been stalled because they did not have the equipment and labor free to move the damn to its new location. In the absence of all petroleum deposits and the lack of that particular mining technology, geothermal power had been chosen as the primary power source. In order to make the parts needed, personal vehicles were commandeered and broken down for parts. It was not a perfect solution. It was rather like connecting two different technologies that worked, and hoping they worked together. The result was something that generated power, but not nearly enough for their needs and far from efficiently. It might be enough to get them though the winter. Hopefully. Maybe. In a perfect world.
The first cars to be taken were in sales lots. With a lack of petrol, there was no point in keeping them so the lot owners were happy to get rid of them. In it's place was a group of people who were trying to find something to replace the internal combustion engine as the most common mode of transportation. One of these people was Warren Mears.
It was clear to the engineering department how lucky they were to have such an incredible mind like Warren's. This is a boy who made a working, humanoid robot in high school, who was now working to solve many of the problems they were having. At least part of his thought process was intuitive, because he thought around problems, rather than tackling them head on in the usual manner. As such, he was instrumental in devising the next personal automobile: the air pressure car. At first, this seemed like an unattainable goal, but with some tweaking here and there, they had developed a working model of a car that worked on air pressure alone. The car produced no pollution and cost nothing to fill up. The engineers were confidant they could develop similar engines for other craft such as boats and possible aircraft. They were attempting to make functional and economic geothermal converters to charge the air compressors, but as of yet it was not the perfect solution to the problem. Until the electricity situation could be rectified by the moving of the Sunnydale hydroelectric damn or the instatement of working geothermal power plants, the actual range of the cars was severely limited.
But Warren was still Warren. Even with everything he had accomplished, everything he had been acknowledged for, he was still trying to push the envelope. His next project, kept a secret even from his closest friends, was something that fit Warren Mears to the core. He had swiped one of the blasters from the Initiative and had been reverse engineering it. He figured that it could be tweaked left and right, shrunk and expanded, and twisted into whatever he needed. So, considering he was one of the biggest geeks in Sunnydale it came as no surprise that the first thing he recreated was Han Solo's blaster from Star Wars. After testing it on his mother's cat, he discovered he had finally created a non-lethal laser pistol that actually worked. (Although this was a momentous occasion, it did not please the cat much.) After that, it was just a matter of rearranging things for larger sizes.
"So, I'm off in a couple of weekends, Xander's off in a couple of weekends, Drizzt is off in a couple of weekends," Buffy said, sitting with Willow on their work break. "You should take off with us."
"I don't know. I have a huge pile of work," Willow said. "But what were you thinking about doing?"
"How about sneaking past the guards and going on a trip into the forest south of here," Buffy said with a conspiratorial grin. "There's something there. I can feel it."
"Is this like Slayer sense going off? Cuz I don't really want to get eaten if we go in there," Willow said worriedly.
"Good Sensey, not Bad Sensey," Buffy said with a grin. "Slayer senses give it the OK."
"So it could be an adventure? Like Romancing the Stone?" Willow was suddenly much more interested.
"Yeah, I guess so," Buffy said with a shrug. "I'm just feeling kinda trapped here. It's like there's an itch I can't scratch no matter how hard I try."
"Oh, like when it's behind your shoulder blades? I hate that," Willow said with complete sympathy.
"Yeah, except it's not a real itch, it's a feeling," said a scowling Buffy. "But at the same time it's like I forgot something, but I can't remember what I forgot, only that I forgot it."
"Thanks for trying to keep me occupied," Willow said with a smile. "I know what you're doing."
"What am I doing?"
"You, miss Angel, so you're keeping yourself occupied by making sure that I'm occupied so I don't think of Oz, but this is really all because you don't want to think of Angel and you think we can be miserable together," Willow said. Buffy cocked her head and looked at the red head confused.
"How do you say these things without taking a breath?" Willow blushed and looked away. Buffy smiled, that fake smile one wears when they don't want to face the truth. Deep down, she was just as depressed as Willow. "We're doing okay, we're some happening babes, we should do something."
"I don't know…I just," Willow took a sip of her herbal tea, "I just don't know what to do. I've cried, I've kept the letters, and I'm putting one foot in front of the other. I just don't know where to go from there."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Buffy agreed with a huff. Depressed, she leaned over and rested her chin on the table. "You know how last year we said we would never have a good relationship?" Willow nodded. "I think we were right."
"Yeah," Willow said, resting her chin just like Buffy. "Boys suck."
"Yeah…"
They leaned over like that for a while until a pretty blond girl walked up to them. "Hi-hi Willow." Willow brightened almost instantly. The blond girl, on the other hand, visibly shrank when she realized Willow was not alone.
"Hi Tara," the redhead said with a smile. She seemed to not notice the reaction the girl had towards Buffy. "Buffy, this is Tara." Buffy rolled her head to the side to see the new girl. Picking her head up, she smiled. "Tara, meet Buffy."
"Hi Tara, I'm Buffy," she said, holding out her hand. The shy girl's face went red as she tentatively shook Buffy's hand.
"N-nice t-tuh-to meet you," Tara said. Buffy wasn't sure if she was nervous or just had a stutter. "W-Willow talks about you a l-lot."
"Well, does she?" Buffy pulled out a chair. "Join us." The girl looked nervously at the chair and then slowly looked up at Willow. Willow just grinned and nodded. "So how do you guys know each other?"
"We met after the magic meeting just after the shift," Willow said. "Her mom's a great witch. Me and Amy have been meeting with her a lot since then."
"Nice, so Tara, are you in on the whole magic thingy?" Buffy asked as she took a sip of her iced tea. It wasn't real tea because that had been reserved for special occasions. This was a collection of dried herbs from inside Sunnydale and out that made for a special flavor.
"Yea-yes. M-my mother wants me to fol-follow in her fo-foot steps," responded Tara. She seemed to clutch the edge of her shirt very tightly.
"That's great," Buffy said, flashing a smile. "I think it's cool that so many people are doing with the witchyness these days. Me, I'm still a hands on girl."
"I-I've seen you on TV," Tara said hesitantly. Buffy grumbled under her breath.
"Yeah, I wish they'd stop stalking me," the blond said with a grouchy look. "I think they're just waiting for me to turn eighteen when they can publish all the dirty pics they've been taking. And considering how my last birthday ended up, I'm not really looking forward to the next one."
"That's kind of a touchy subject with Buffy these days," Willow said.
"Age?" Tara was just a bit confused. Buffy shook her head.
"Nah, just birthdays."