Sailor Moon: Millennials

by PMSmiles

This is a fan repost of all available 33 chapters of The Judge's abandoned work. An epic length and very ambitions fic involving an amnesiac Pluto and a pregnant Usagi. Time and space travel abound in an effort to right wrongs and overcome evil.

9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: Hello. Before I go any further I want to publicly state that this work of fan fiction is NOT of my own creation. I am simply a fan of this piece and after strenuously searching the internet to read it again after 20 years I have decided to upload it here for anyone else who wants to read it. The real author (The Judge) never finished this work, or at least never updated past chapter 33 (even though it is obvious that the ambitious plot of this story should continue much past this point). So please don't come after me for more updates. There won't be any. Rather enjoy this incomplete fan fiction for what it is and please forgive me for any formatting errors, some of the text files had to be manually edited and I did my best

_…_…_…_…_…_…_

SAILOR MOON: MILLENNIALS

Chapter 9

Things That Go "Bump" In The Night And At A Lot of Other Inconvenient Times Too

Ami opened her eyes very slowly.

They snapped shut again as a brilliant lance of pain invaded the irises, pierced the pupils, cut through the corneas, and ripped apart the retinas to end up lodged somewhere in her brain. She had been feeling much better yesterday evening, even despite the discovery that she couldn't transform into Mercury for a little while, but now it appeared that the brief bout of near-normal health had used up most of her body's resources. She was no longer sick, but was instead feeling the aftereffects of illness—namely, weakness, hunger, and fatigue.

*Time to get up,* she thought. Never mind that she was half-blind, dead tired, and ready to beat Usagi's record of downing the equivalent of three meals in one sitting; there was school to attend. Pushing back the blankets, Ami rose and went in search of the shower. Slowly.

Makoto met her in the hall, already dressed—a welcome change from her usual morning routine—in what she called her 'work clothes,' battered old slacks and a loose-fitting top, which she wore so she could cook without fear of getting anything on her school uniform or other, more important outfits. "Good morning, Ami-chan. Sleep well?"

Yawning widely enough to make her jaw creak, Ami nodded. "The last thing I remember is my head hitting the pillow. At least, I think it was a pillow." Yawning again, she sniffed at the air and detected the aroma of... well, she was in no condition to puzzle out what it was, but SOMEthing was cooking, and her stomach made a point of reminding her that the most solid food she'd been able to keep down in the last two days amounted to a bowl of broth and some Jello. "What's for breakfast?"

"Whatever's left after I demolished the fridge to feed the animals last night," Makoto replied wryly. "And it's lunch, actually."

Ami blinked, looked back into her room, and saw 11:19 glowing back at her. "I slept in? Why didn't you wake me up?!"

"I did wake you up. Twice. Once at 6:45, like you asked me to, and again at quarter after seven. You were asleep again inside of five minutes, so I called the school and let them know you still weren't better. So, what would you like to eat?"

"Well, some pancakes would..." Ami shook her head. Come to think of it, she did vaguely recall being shaken to something resembling consciousness. She'd turned back over both times and plunged headlong into peaceful slumber—but that wasn't the point. "Don't try to change the subject, Mako-chan. You should have woken me up."

"What for? So you could collapse in the middle of gym class or walk out into traffic?" Makoto gave her a very direct look. "Ami, you may know more than I do about how the body works, but I know enough to realize that yours is a wreck right now. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror? You're whiter than a sheet, you've got bags _over_ your eyes as well as under them, and they're bloodshot besides."

Ami started to say something, and Makoto rolled on over it. "Your fever's gone, but you got maybe two hours of sleep that whole time you were fighting it, and you really need something to eat; you hardly touched anything at dinner last night, and I know for a fact there can't be anything _else_ in your system. Not after all the time you spent getting sick yesterday. Now," Makoto continued, looking her over, "you are going to join me in the kitchen, and you are going to eat something if I have to tie you to a chair and feed you by hand."

"But..." Ami protested, her hand making the beginnings of a motion towards the bathroom before Makoto cut her off.

"You can have a shower later, once you're all-the-way awake and not dead on your feet; I don't want you passing out and hitting your head in the tub or on the sink."

"But..."

"Move, Mizuno."

Usagi was walking the halls, killing time in the latter half of the lunch break when Ryo appeared alongside her. Minako had gone to an intramural volleyball game in the gym not five minutes before, and Usagi wondered if Ryo was jumping on the bodyguard bandwagon in Minako's place. How he expected to be any real help in a fight was beyond her; if worst came to worst, she herself _might_ still be able to transform, and even in her everyday guise, she was probably still as strong as Ryo. And she had the ginzuishou looking out for her on top of that. The only thing she could think of was that Ryo intended to foresee trouble and steer her out of its way.

His question dispelled her suspicions a little. "Still out, are they?"

Usagi nodded. "Haruna-sensei told me earlier that Mako-chan called in sick for Ami-chan this morning." She chuckled.

"Something funny?"

"Oh, just that there were apparently some objections to the story in the office. You know Imono-sensei?"

"The vice-principal? Slightly bald guy, wears suits? Has a stare that could strip paint from a wall at a range of fifty feet?" Usagi nodded, and Ryo nodded back. "Met him yesterday."

"Well, he handles discipline around here, and he makes it his business to shoot down every absentee excuse the students serve up. From what Haruna said, he didn't buy Mako-chan's bit about staying home to look after a sick friend, and he called to threaten her with serious detention time for skipping school."

"I note she's still not here."

"Yeah. Haruna-sensei spotted Mister Discipline just after that phonecall." Usagi laughed wickedly. "She had no idea what Mako-chan must have said, but Imono-sensei looked white as a sheet when he came out of his office."

Ryo nodded sagely. "Makoto doesn't take well to being threatened, I've noticed. I just hope she doesn't get into trouble for whatever she said to him." He glanced at his watch. "I've got to go, Usagi-chan; I've got a book due back at the library before next period." He held up a fair-sized book, whose title included a couple of words Usagi doubted she could even pronounce properly.

"You're here one day and you're already checking the heavy stuff out of the library," Usagi said, sighing in mock despair. "Well, I suppose Ami-chan would approve."

"Hey, nature spent four billion years giving us the cranial capacity and opposable digits necessary to write in the first place; it'd be a shame to waste all that effort, wouldn't it? Actually, though, it's a book Ami-chan borrowed last week. She would have asked you or Mina-chan to return it for her, but she wanted it back on time." Ryo grinned and then glanced around. The only other people in sight were four girls at the near end of the hall, but he lowered his voice out of long habit. "Watch your step when you get upstairs, okay? One of the janitors must have gotten overly generous with the floor wax last night, because there's a slippery patch near room 204."

"I appreciate the warning. Any chance you could tell me what the answers on the next math quiz are going to be?"

"Nice try." Usagi made a face at him, smiled, and walked off; shaking his head, Ryo turned and headed for the library.

Unnoticed in Usagi's case and forgotten in Ryo's, the group of girls watched them go. "They're awfully chummy, aren't they? You don't suppose he's..."

"I doubt it," one of the other girls said. "He's kinda cute, but if Tsukino was interested, she would have been making an idiot of herself over him by now."

The first girl, shorter than the rest and with a green tint in her hair to match her eyes, looked up at the one who had answered. "Do you suppose he's with one of her friends, then?"

"Maybe, maybe not." The girl shrugged. None of the four were by any means overweight, but she was noticeably thinner than her friends. Her hair was blonde and her eyes brown, but there was a faded, pale quality to her entire coloration; combined with her more than slender figure, those washed-out tones left her appearance somewhat reminiscent of what you'd expect a ghost to look like. "If the book's anything to go by, it'd be Mizuno."

The third girl snorted. She had bright blue eyes and many freckles, but her hair was more brown than it was red. "Yeah, right. Since when has she even looked at a guy?"

"Maybe Kino's not paying enough attention to her," the last girl suggested with a wicked smile. Anyone watching would likely have pegged her as the leader; there was a certain air of authority about her, something which suggested that when she talked, she expected people to listen. Blue-black eyes glittered in a pale, more than pretty face framed by long black hair; the smile on her lips was not reflected in those dark eyes as they turned to the pale girl. "Did you get much out of Umino?"

"Some. This Urawa attended the junior high for about two weeks, three years ago. He apparently managed to beat out Mizuno for top marks at the time..."

"I'll believe that the day the sun comes up blue," the freckled girl said. The other one went on as if she had not been interrupted.

"...but since his family moved, nobody was ever sure if he really was that smart or if he just lucked out. Umino seemed to think he was genuine. His parents are still together, he doesn't have any siblings, and he's back now because his father got a promotion and a transfer. He also suffers from periodic headaches, but whether that's a medical condition or just the result of hanging around Tsukino too long, I don't know. That was about all Umino had."

"I see." Dark eyes narrowed speculatively as they watched Ryo proceed down the hall. "Keep looking. We need something. And if he does turn out to be with Mizuno, well..." The gaze was on the unfriendly side of neutral as she smiled again.

Even on the opposite end of the hall, Ryo felt someone watching him. He was used to the feeling by now, and suspected it was an outgrowth of his ability to predict the future. Every so often, he could tell when someone he knew was nearby before he had actually seen them; he could walk along a sidewalk, head down, eyes on the pavement, and not once bump into anyone. He almost always knew when someone was looking at him, and could turn and pick out the looker even from across a crowded room. He did that now, looking back down the corridor and spotting the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl.

Their gazes met for just an instant, and the world fell away as another vision impressed itself on Ryo's field of view. He saw a figure on a gurney being lifted into an ambulance by paramedics, a slight, female figure in torn and dirty clothing. The face, a mass of blackening bruises and bloody cuts, was virtually unrecognizable, and one eye was swollen shut—but the other, staring up at the sky, was the same blue-black shade of the eyes he had just locked gazes with, and the hair was definitely hers as well. The image lasted only a split second, but Ryo caught a glimpse of trees against the evening sky beyond the ambulance. Green trees, in the full bloom of at least late spring.

Reality came back in a flood of white, and Ryo broke off eye contact, turning away before the clenching of teeth and squinting of eyes kicked in, the automatic response to the pain he had learned to live with after more premonitions than he could count. He walked away, legs as steady as if nothing had happened—the vision had been short, so the pain was less, unlike other times, when particularly intense or prolonged foretellings had literally driven him to his knees—but inside, he felt sick.

Each time a vision came, Ryo did more than just see what was going to happen. His other senses seemed to take turns joining in on the experience—a snatch of conversation here, a mixture of peculiar odors there, sensations of heat or cold at other times—and it was frequently as if information were being directly implanted into his head, so that he could 'remember' things he had not known prior to the flash, things which had not yet even taken place.

The dark-eyed girl was going to be trouble. How or why, Ryo had no idea; he knew only that it was so. And at some point in the future, by the end of a summer that was still months from even starting, she was going to be terribly injured. Again, the how and why of the matter remained a mystery.

*I'd better warn Ami-chan and the others,* he thought gloomily. *Maybe they'll be able to catch who—or whatever will be responsible.* He held on to that thought; he didn't hold out any hope that even the Senshi could prevent the girl from being hurt.

He knew better.

Across the city, dozens of tiny, concealed clusters of springy green fungoid matter erupted with even tinier reddish-orange pods as Proteus opened its eyes and looked upon the world again. It was good to be able to see again; it was just as good that it had recovered so quickly.

Proteus had not expected to be able to repair so much of the damage done to its simplistic, far-flung body in such a short time, but then again, all its knowledge of healing and self-repair was based on what it would have been able to accomplish before its absorption of the humans, when it was essentially the same as the mindless units that hung in readiness at the growing trap sites.

*It seems I have grown in more ways than I realized,* the entity mused, watching—feeling—as blackened and burnt-out sections rippled back into green life. *And yet I must grow even more than this.*

Yes. It was time to begin the first experiment. But carefully, carefully; it would not do at all for this experiment to take place too close to one of the trap sites, for the units might waken prematurely and go in search of the energy Proteus would be using. Or perhaps Archon's female apprentice would be on hand to witness. Either would tell the master mage that something very peculiar was going on. He would learn of it eventually, of that Proteus had no doubt, but with the proper precautions, even Archon would have difficulty tracking the anomaly back to its source.

*And with luck, by the time he realizes, I will no longer be as I am. What _will_ I be, I wonder?*

After a moment of yearning consideration, Proteus dismissed the question. Not enough information, yet, to form any kind of answer. That was what the experiment—and others, later—would be for.

The entity stilled itself, quelling random thought, suppressing the flow of energy throughout its entire self. Had it possessed lungs, they would have breathed deeply; had it possessed the kind of eyes owned by humans, they would be closed, the brow above them furrowed with concentration. Everything it could muster—thought, will, and most especially energy—was being focused on a single objective. A weird tingling sensation began to build within parts of its body as energy looped in on itself, concentrating and growing.

*Now,* Proteus thought, releasing the gathered force. *Begin.*

In an apartment somewhere in Tokyo, a man named Hiroshi clutched at the back of his neck as a searing pain erupted at the base of his brain and made its agonizing way into the rest of his body. Unable to move even those muscles that would allow him to scream, he fell, every nerve ending feeling frozen and on fire at the same time, a chorus of chaos ringing in the grey matter between his ears.

Beneath Hiroshi's hand, the controlling device Proteus had implanted nearly a month ago—the green-grey star which had until now been hidden from all sight and scent and touch—reappeared. Reappeared, and grew. Grew from a tiny star to a small blemish on the skin, from a blemish to a green rash, and from the rash into a spreading, creeping second skin. It covered Hiroshi from head to foot, clothes and all, and continued to grow outwards until the shape of the body had been lost within the shape of a pod. And still it grew. Tiny blots appeared on the surface and became the reddish eye-sensors, examining the room from all sides; tiny tufts of green lengthened into creepers, making their way along the floor and walls and ceiling and whatever else they touched in order to reach wall sockets and light fixtures. And the green substance continued to grow.

As power began to trickle into the pod from the electrical system of the building, Proteus ceased the flow of its own power. While part of its awareness studied what was happening to Hiroshi, another part made a fast but thorough examination of the trap sites, the units within them, and the apartment where Archon's apprentice lived. The units remained dormant; the girl was practicing what appeared to be a spell of levitation or flight. All was well.

Only once it was certain of that did Proteus relax. The effort of compressing the energy needed to begin this experiment into such a fine, short- lived transmission had left the entity experiencing a new sensation; exhaustion. But it was done, and the riskiest part of the project—the burst of broadcast energy, so easy to detect and track—was safely past. All Proteus had to do now was wait and watch, in absolute secrecy, as events progressed.

"So where did it come from?" the harsh-voiced man asked.

The darkened room was once again hosting a meeting. The seven who had been in attendance at the last meeting were here once again. No surprise there; none of the Directors _ever_ missed a meeting, and the only way one of the unseen faces assembled here would change would be if something unpleasant—and probably fatal—had happened to the previous Director.

A smile creased the hidden face of the humorous man who had asked so many questions at the last meeting. *And even _that_ might not be enough to stop some of them from attending.*

The Sciences Director, the woman with the icy voice, was speaking. "Damage to the sensor networks in that area was too extensive to track either the source or the destination of the broadcast. The only reason we picked it up at all was because of the interference it generated in communications. None of the previous energies we've recorded have had that kind of effect."

"Except when communications equipment happened to be damaged or destroyed by said energies," the dreary-voiced Information Director noted.

That was his cue. "Are my ears playing tricks on me, or did you just make a joke?" There was no reply, but he could feel at least two pairs of eyes fix on him, and probably a couple of sidelong glances from the others for good measure. Without even seeing them, he knew exactly who was looking at him, and how: the direct looks would be from Sciences and Information, and likely the harsh-voiced Security Director as well; the glances would be from Personnel—that woman at least had a sense of humor—and the seldom-speaking Resources Director. And the man at the head of the table, the Political Director, would not have reacted at all.

Not for the first time, he wondered about the faces that went with those voices. After all, his job entailed the concealment of this and many other secrets, and it was only natural that he become curious about what—and who—he was hiding. As Sciences continued to explain what little information they had on the events of the last few days, the curious man toyed with what he knew of the organization and tried to guess who the Directors might be in everyday life.

Security was no problem, of course. His department was, by necessity, of a military nature, with a rigidly defined hierarchy; squadmen answered to their lieutenants, who answered to group captains, who in turn answered to their Director. And as with any military, more often than not, with increased rank went increased age. There wasn't that much difference between the squadmen and the lieutenants, or between the lieutenants and the captains, but the captains definitely had a few years on the squadmen, just as the Director had a few more on _them._

Sciences was a little harder. Quite a few of the assorted doctors and professors who were included in her department were scattered across the city, working either independently or as part of small groups, and most of those were probably unaware of the fact that they _were_ working for someone. Those who actually worked in the complex itself were a mixed bag, the labcoats who thought up and built things, and the technicians who kept them working. He knew that this Director worked in the complex at least part of the time, and she certainly wasn't a technician, but there were enough women among the hard-core scientists to make her difficult to pick out. He had a couple of likely candidates in mind, but he'd never heard this icy voice outside of these meetings, so he couldn't be completely sure one way or the other.

Information, Personnel, and Resources did most of their tasks through long-established networks which enabled them to locate, obtain, and place the necessary data, new employee, or material where they were needed, and when—and then conceal the fact that any of that locating, obtaining, and placement had happened. Between them, the trio oversaw maybe half the number of people either of the other Directors did, but everyone in these three departments tended to be very similar to each other—introverted, intelligent, and hard to track down—so telling who of them were the Directors was tricky. Personnel he knew for certain thanks to her delightful sense of humor, but as with Sciences, Information apparently spoke differently under different circumstances. And Resources hardly spoke at all, which made him just as much of a problem to track down.

And as for Political... who knew who the man might be? He worked alone, bridging the gap between the Directors and those very, very few others who even knew this organization existed: a few members of the Diet, certainly, and perhaps City Hall, working secretly to deal with a concern of the voters; a handful of higher-ups in the corporate world, protecting their business interests by funding this venture; likely someone in the military as well, if the weapons Security was so proud of were all he made them out to be; and perhaps one or two others. And Political could be from any of those camps, or none. Not someone famous, though; he would have been able to tell from the voice if Political were a well-known figure.

"Repairs to the detection system are underway," Sciences was saying, "both here and in the outlying sections. At the current rate of progress, we should have it back to normal inside another week."

"And what do we do until then?" Security asked.

"I've got portable scanners your patrols and our other field personnel can use," Sciences replied. "They don't have the same kind of range as the main system, and the number is limited, but they're better than going out there blind."

"Can you make enough to outfit all my teams? And all field agents as well?"

"In time, perhaps." Sciences paused. "With all the repairs we're doing to the main system, parts are going to be scarce for a while."

Resources sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

"Do it fast," Information suggested. He pressed a button on his console, and a screen lit up on the far end of the room, opposite from the seat occupied by Political, showing a map of Tokyo. Even with the screen, there wasn't enough light to make out faces. "Another creature popped up last night, but it wasn't like the others we've seen recently; people reported hearing howling, and a partial trail of claw marks was found along a series of rooftops in the Juuban area." Part of the map showed a red line.

"And the creature itself?" Sciences asked. Security had moved as if he'd meant to ask the same thing.

"The trail ends at a partially demolished rooftop." Information pressed another button, and a snapshot of the area appeared over the map. Cracked concrete, smashed bricks, and patches that might have been burned or melted were clearly visible. "From the look of it, the thing ran into one or more of the Senshi."

"We need to assemble a field team to investigate," Personnel said. "I've got some people who can pose as city maintenance, and if I could get some of those portable scanners, we might be able to backtrack this thing's path and find out where it came from."

"I'll have a technician who knows how to use the scanners deliver them," Sciences promised. She sounded a little distracted, and seemed to be examining the map.

"Send a security squad along as well," Political instructed. "Street clothes, but make sure they'll have access to their weapons if our search crew finds anything. Or if anything finds them."

"They'll be there," Security said.

*Now what prompted that, I wonder?* "Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us?"

"This operation was established for the sole purpose of protecting the people of Tokyo—mentally as much as physically—and last night's little light show has raised some serious questions about how well we're living up to that responsibility. Without the proof of physical bodies or injured bystanders, the authorities can deny the existence of monsters. Mass fainting spells can be attributed to heatstroke or food poisoning, damage to buildings can be passed off as mundane terrorist action, and UFO sightings are dismissed as a matter of course. Giant blazing fireballs making round trips to the Moon aren't nearly so easy to explain away, especially when they show up on military and civilian radar and then get covered by every major newspaper and television network in the country."

"That _would_ make plausible deniability a little tricky, wouldn't it?" That earned more glances and hard looks. "Hey, my people did what they could to downplay the mess, but it's a little hard to cover up something half the city saw with their own eyes!"

"Are they considering shutting us down?" Personnel asked quietly.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Following a meeting this morning, it was decided that our relatively poor progress is not due to lack of effort, but inadequate resources and manpower. As of 8:29 this morning, our operating budget has effectively been doubled."

"That was generous of them," Resources said. "What's the catch?"

"The catch," Political replied, "is that our marching orders have been changed. We're to establish a minimum of three field stations for Security in each district, both to cut down the response time in future incidents and to serve as bases for regular patrols of the city. Until such time as the sensor network is fully operational, the field stations complete, and the patrols outfitted, Sciences is to put all other projects on hold; Resources, Information, and Personnel are similarly ordered to give the supplying of those endeavors top priority. And Security is to have at least one team patrolling each district at all times."

"About bloody time," Security rumbled.

*That's what I thought he'd say.* "And my department, as if I didn't already know..."

"In light of the fact that the increased number of field personnel raises the likelihood of a direction confrontation, Media is to assign its own teams to each new station in sufficient numbers to accompany each Security patrol."

Pretty much what he'd expected to hear. His department, Media, was the branch in charge of keeping the existence of this operation secret in a world full of cameras, camcorders, cellphones, and Internet access. To that end, he headed up a group of people who could prevaricate, mislead, misinform, button up, deceive, and just plain lie with the best of them. Media's task all came down to one word: cover. Cover their eyes, cover up the truth, cover your ass...

Sometimes it still got to him; he hadn't taken all those journalism courses in university just to make a career out of lying to people. He understood the necessity of keeping this particular field of information out of the public eye, of course; he hadn't believed in monsters or aliens since he was ten, and learning that both—or things very much like them—really did exist had been the biggest shock of his life. If positive proof that humanity wasn't alone on its little blue world had gotten out, everyone in the world would have undergone a similar shock, and society was in enough trouble right now without a global panic to make things worse.

A line in an American movie came back to him: 'A _person_ is smart; _people_ are stupid, panicky, dangerous animals and you know it.'

*Too bad Sciences hasn't figured out how to build a Neuralizer yet,* he thought with an internal chuckle. *That'd make my job a whole hell of a lot easier.*

The meeting was over, and the other Directors had returned to their work. The Director of Sciences, however, remained behind, examining something on the small monitor before her.

"You can come out at any time," she said to the apparently empty room. After a moment of injured silence, a shadow took shape from the darkness and lowered itself into a seat on the other side of the table, the chair recently vacated by the Director of Information. "Something I can do for you?"

"You seemed distracted after I mentioned last night's intruder," the dull-voiced man said without preamble. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Answering that question in full would probably take up the rest of this year," Sciences replied in a rare flash of humor, "but with regards to that particular incident... do you remember the young lady we discussed a few weeks ago?"

"Meiou Setsuna?"

"Yes. Look at this." The monitor in front of Information lit up, displaying the map of Tokyo with the red-marked trail he had shown to the other Directors. A second red dot appeared on it, some distance from the spot which marked the site of the battle that had ended both the trail and its maker. "That is the location of the house where our odd young lady has been staying since she left the hospital, a location in no way relevant to the path of last night's creature. But that's not where she was last night."

"Oh?"

"She was here"—a third dot appeared—"visiting a sick friend." A few keys clicked, and the marked trail began to extend. It went directly through the area marked by the third dot. "Coincidence?"

"You don't believe that any more than I do," Information said.

"You're half right. Her friends, the ones present at New Year's, were also in that apartment, and as you'll recall, each of them has an extensive history of being singled out by these creatures. One—or all—of them could have been the target, and Miss Meiou could simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Again."

Information made a faint sound of neutral agreement. "Even so, we should probably intensify our observation, both of her and her friends. And perhaps others with histories of multiple attacks as well. Whatever it is about these people that drew so many hostiles to them before is likely to keep on earning them unwanted attention; if we have people in place, we might be able to do something about it."

"Agreed. You'll have to speak with Personnel about assigning more agents, though. I'll be up to my ears in details until the network and the field stations are finished."

"I understand." Information rose and faded into the darkness. A moment later, his voice drifted back. "By the way, how did you know so much about the girl's movements?" Though still a little dull, there was a distinct note of curiosity—and perhaps envy—in his voice.

"I have my sources," Sciences replied coolly. There was no reply, and the sense of Information's presence in the room was abruptly gone. Sciences smiled faintly; no doubt he'd spend a week trying to track down her 'sources,' and probably be tearing out his hair in frustration by the end. It would do him good; people who thought they knew everything always needed the occasional reminder to the contrary.

The Director of Sciences didn't think she knew everything, not by a longshot—but she _wanted_ to know, if not everything, then as much as was humanly possible. She accepted that there were gaps in her knowledge and then asked questions to fill those gaps. And in the process of asking those questions, she invariably discovered new, previously unknown gaps, which led to more questions, which led to more gaps. An endless cycle of learning. Some people would have found that to be a most depressing revelation; if anything, the knowledge that there would always be more mysteries somewhere around the corner reassured her, gave her the comfort that life, while it could and would be many things, would never be dull.

Right now, she was stuck on the question her colleague had put forward: why? Why did hostiles sometimes attack large numbers of people, and other times focus on individuals? What was it that made a single person more attractive than an entire crowd? What was it that made some of those people attractive enough to be attacked multiple times? Why did it seem as if all those people lived in Tokyo? What was the point, the pattern?

And how did Meiou Setsuna fit into it?

"I don't know, Ikuko-chan." Setsuna smoothed the skirt and looked at her reflection. "This one doesn't seem to fit very well, either."

The two women were in the bedroom currently shared by Setsuna, Usagi, and ChibiUsa. A number of outfits lay on the beds, some belonging to Setsuna, some belonging to Ikuko; a few showed signs of having been tried on, while others were still looped over hangers.

Ikuko looked at the pale green skirt—one of hers—frowned, and then nodded. "You're right," she sighed. "Well, let's see what else we have left." She began sorting through the various skirts and dresses, muttering at each she picked up. After one more look in the mirror at the fit of the skirt—the color wasn't bad, but it was just too tight at the hips—Setsuna sighed.

This moment of fashion-oriented frustration had been building for several weeks. The generosity of the Tsukino family in taking her in was something Setsuna suspected she would never be able to repay in full, but for all the gratitude she felt, she also felt a certain sense of guilt at living off the efforts of others. She had been able to rid herself of some of that uneasiness by helping Ikuko keep up the house, and again, just the day before, by contributing some of the money she had left to help pay for the food she was eating. But looking at how little of that money was left had stirred up the same uncertainties Setsuna felt when she looked at the simple fact that Ikuko—for all her gentle smiles and words of thanks—didn't need anyone's help to maintain neatness and order in her home.

What had really helped her make the decision, though, had been the visit to the Moon, and Usagi's sad-eyed statement that there was nothing to be done for her lost memories. The last tiny hope floating in the back of Setsuna's mind, the chance that there might be something her extraordinary friends might be able to do, had been neatly extinguished. And strangely enough, that loss of hope didn't scare her. In a way, it had made her feel almost... content. Setsuna knew she would always regret the loss of her past, but she had cried all her tears for that pain already, and with the past gone, it was high time to start making something out of the present. She wanted—no, she _needed_ to get her life back on track. She needed to carry her own weight, to contribute something to the family who had shown her so much kindness.

In short, she needed a job.

She had explained her feelings to Ikuko while they were cleaning up the wreckage of this morning's breakfast. The older woman understood completely, had simply asked if she felt she was ready to face the outside world on that level, and after a single wordless nod of confirmation, given Setsuna her total support. They spent most of the morning checking through the newspaper and discussing various possibilities; Ikuko had been a housewife since well before the day Usagi had been born, but she'd gone through her share of jobs before that, and many of her friends worked as well, so she had a considerable store of advice for Setsuna on the requirements of this or that line of work, the realities of working in one job as opposed to what you _thought_ it was like, which jobs were good career opportunities and which were strictly short-term employment, and so on.

Building a resume had taken some time as well, and once it was done, Setsuna supposed she should thank whomever had blanked out her memories for being equally thorough in their 'adjustment' of reality; a call to the department of public records had turned up both high-school and university diplomas, things she needed but hadn't been entirely sure she possessed. The fellow on the other end of the line had been very understanding, and said she could drop to pick up hard copies of those records first thing in the morning if she wanted. A similar call to the university had produced a list of courses she had taken, and another understanding person who had read the specifics in turn. Her diploma credited her with a combined degree in economics and history, but the man at the registrar's office added minors in literature and languages, and a few extra courses besides. Setsuna went over the information floating around in her head and, after some careful consideration, decided that enough of it matched up with the disciplines her 'education' described.

Having done all that was possible until she could get copies of those records in the morning, Setsuna had turned her attention to the question of clothing; which was to say, whether or not she had the right things to wear to an interview or to work. After all, there was no sense in wasting time now that she might not have later. Ikuko had raided her own closet for any possibilities to round out Setsuna's admittedly limited wardrobe, but the green skirt was the fifth such garment to fail to fit the bill—or Setsuna.

Looking through the spread-out clothes, Setsuna's eyes fell on the one anomaly in her luggage—the ragged, baggy, threadbare blue jeans. Why, when everything else was either new or in nearly-new condition, had she been given something that hardly looked intact enough to use as dishrags, let alone to be worn? And which was about four sizes too large to boot? Every time she so much as glanced at the jeans, her fingers started to itch. Picking them up now, while Ikuko was busily examining a dark grey dress, Setsuna began to study the tattered jeans, turning them over in her hands, studying the stitching, what parts had worn thin and which were still reasonably intact.

"This is just too ridiculous," she said, poking a finger through a hole on the outside of the left leg, where the stitching had pulled out. "Ikuko-chan, if you don't mind, I've got to do something about this." Pausing only long enough to exchange the uncomfortable green skirt for her own pale purple one, Setsuna gathered up the jeans in the arm, her sewing machine in the other, and headed downstairs.

When Usagi arrived home with Minako and Urawa, they found Setsuna sitting at the kitchen table, her sewing machine and the contents of half of its little compartments before her. The jeans were almost unrecognizable as a scattered mass of material, including several small cut-out sections that Setsuna kept moving around, snipping at this bit with scissors, comparing that piece to two others and setting them all aside for a fourth, threading this and pulling out the stitches on that...

Usagi started to ask if Setsuna was going to visit Ami with the rest of them, then thought better of it; if the intensity on her face reflected even a tenth of the determination she had focused on this task, then it was doubtful that Setsuna would even hear her.

"How long has she been at that?" Usagi asked her mother.

"I hadn't eaten lunch yet when she started," Ikuko replied, "and she skipped it entirely. You're going to see Ami again?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in time for supper, though." Usagi glanced at Setsuna. "We're going to be eating in the living room tonight, aren't we?"

"We may," Ikuko agreed wryly.

Setsuna continued to work.

Ami listened to Ryo's recounting of the vision as they sat together on Makoto's couch, once again drinking tea. Or more precisely, holding cups of tea; Ryo was too busy talking to drink his, and after an afternoon of having to put up with Makoto's bedside manner, Ami didn't want to so much as LOOK at anything her roommate might have had a hand in preparing. Makoto herself was absent, having dragged Usagi and Minako off to help her do some emergency shopping once they had seen that Ami was feeling much better. And the cats, as well. That part bugged Ami; she had wanted to talk to Luna about the information her computer had gathered while scanning the mana nexus, the data she could now review thanks to Queen Serenity. There hadn't been a chance to discuss it last night, with all the fuss kicked up by the appearance of a new daimon, and Makoto's well-intentioned attempt to give Ami more time alone with Ryo had robbed her of the chance to deal with something important.

As Ryo went on, though, Ami decided it was just as well that Makoto had conscripted the others.

"Dark blue eyes? Black hair, about this long?" She indicated a point just short of her own waist. "A little taller than Usagi?"

"Do you know her?"

Ami's mouth twisted sourly. "Fuunno Aneiko. Also known, once upon a time, as the Queen Bitch of Juuban Junior High."

Ryo blinked. Ami cursing was a new one on him; Ami cursing like she meant it was even more of a surprise. Then he frowned. "'Once upon a time?'"

"Mmmm." In spite of herself, Ami took a sip of the tea; there was a foul taste in her mouth all of a sudden. Not surprising, given the topic. "Aneiko's hobby used to be finding out people's secrets and then blackmailing them into doing what she wanted. She'd make up rumors about people who tried to stand up to her, or about people she didn't like, and she had a whole little circle of friends to help her. Usagi, Makoto, and I had some... problems... with them while we were fighting the Dark Kingdom."

"Such as?"

"The usual stuff people say about new kids; I was kicked out of my old school for cheating, Makoto was expelled for fighting, other things. And Usagi got dragged along since she was our friend. It's not really important anymore." She shook her head, clearing away bad memories. "The point is, after we fought Beryl and the year reset itself, Aneiko was suddenly not at Juuban anymore. Usagi remembered her a bit from the year before, but it was as if Mako-chan and I had never met her." Ami frowned, thinking. "My best guess is that the youma attacks must have changed decisions Aneiko and her parents made. Maybe they were going to send her to a boarding school or something and worried when they heard about monsters popping in from other dimensions, so they kept her close to home. But the second time around, with the Dark Kingdom gone..."

"Makes sense," Ryo agreed. "And now?"

"She transferred back after summer. I saw her one day in September and remembered everything, but I thought she might have changed, so I tried to forget. Then those rumors about Usagi-chan started going around." Her eyes were icy. "I had a few words with Aneiko about that while Mako-chan was... convincing the others to cut it out."

"I'm starting to get a pretty good idea of what kind of trouble she's going to cause." Ryo sighed.

Ami looked at the teacup in her hands, sloshing the brown liquid around as she thought. "Ryo-kun, I need to ask you a favor." Ami took a deep breath. "I don't want you to mention Aneiko, or your vision about her, to anyone else. No one."

"Why?"

"Think for a minute. You've seen that she's going to get hurt; we know it'll happen, and there's nothing we or anyone else can do about it. But if you tell Usagi-chan, she'll try to stop it and then, when Aneiko gets hurt anyway, think it's her fault for not trying harder. And if you tell any of the others, Usagi'll find out about it sooner or later. She's got enough to worry about with Setsuna and everything else that's been going on recently."

"You've got a point," Ryo admitted, obviously not liking it very much. He had the feeling that Ami wasn't quite telling him everything, and that bothered him. But in the end, he nodded. "Alright. I won't tell anyone. But you owe me for this, Ami."

She raised an eyebrow, something from yesterday coming back to her as she set aside the teacup. "I do, do I? Speaking of owing things, I seem to remember you offering to kiss me yesterday; you never did." Startled, Ryo blinked as she leaned forward slightly, smiling. "Now seems to be as good a time as any, don't you think?" Maybe it was the last lingering effect of her collapse, but Ami was feeling lightheaded all of a sudden, and a bit tingly. Warm, too, and slightly cool at the same time.

After a moment of indecision—*At a time like THIS?!*—Ryo started to lean towards her. Suppressing an urge to giggle, Ami closed her eyes...

...and nearly jumped out of her skin as the front door banged open. "We're back!" Minako announced cheerfully, right on top of Makoto, who was telling her to get inside and quit letting the winter in. Makoto was herself speaking over Usagi's request for help with her share of the load.

For one brief, irrational moment, Ami wanted to strangle the lot of them.

Eyes closed and breath coming in a slow, measured rhythm, Rei knelt before the flames, the locked and sealed Book of Ages laying on the floor in front of her. She had spent two hours last night studying the Book from every angle, reading and re-reading the weird script on the cover, trying to understand—or perhaps remember—what it said. She had given up and gone to bed, but just as her eyes closed, it occurred to her that she might find answers about the Book from the same source that she always turned to for help, the sacred flame. She had been so pleased with herself for thinking of it, so eager to try, that the entire day at school had simply flown past. She had felt a momentary regret for not joining Usagi and the others and visiting Ami, but she'd explained her idea when they met up after school, and everyone had approved of her going straight home to see if it worked.

That, she supposed, should have told her right away that the plan was doomed. Two hours—two!—of meditative focus and clearing of the mind had, for once, done nothing except send her feet to sleep and stiffen up her knees. Even more than failure and the wasted time and effort, that lack of reaction bothered Rei. She always experienced a brief rush as the images she sought appeared, and even when they did not appear, she still got a sense of _knowing_ that there would be no vision. But this time... absolutely nothing.

Sighing, Rei got to her feet, standing on one leg and flexing the other to work out some of the stiffness. She picked up the Book, looked at the dancing flames again, then sighed once more and went outside. After two hours in front of the fire, she was warm enough to stand being out in the cool afternoon air for at least a few minutes. And as she leaned against one of the columns along the walkway, it occurred to her that maybe the cold would inspire her to think faster.

There was a flutter and a blur of black to her left. She didn't have to turn to see one of her crows standing there, its head tilted so that one glossy black eye pointed straight towards her. Another flutter and blur, and the other appeared to her right, perched on the snow-dusted rim of the podium for the prayer bell. Watching her. Just like they always did.

Under the gaze of those black eyes, Rei remembered a certain unpretty, unpopular little girl of about six or seven, a child who was not specifically ugly but somehow always managed to have skinned knees, chewed fingernails, a dirty face, and tangles in long, black hair that she hated more than anything. A child who sometimes saw or heard things no one else ever noticed, who the other children stayed away from because she was 'weird.' A child who wanted her body to be able to soar away like her mind sometimes did, and who came very close to breaking a leg—not to mention her neck—when she jumped from a tree in an attempt to fly.

Blushing in embarrassment at the memory, Rei tried to tell herself that Usagi would fall over laughing if she ever found out about it. She didn't quite succeed.

There had been a crow in the tree that day, watching her, and when she got home, it or one just like it had been perched on the roof. And every day thereafter, it followed her. It would perch on her shoulder and let her brush its glossy feathers; it took food from her hand and flew away from or bit almost anyone else who tried to get close. Some people had talked about that, muttered that there was something strange and perhaps even unlucky about a child that had a crow following her everywhere. The other children started calling her 'bird-girl' and 'beaknose' and more names besides, flapping their arms at her like wings, making noises that were supposed to mimic the crow's rough cawing. A group of boys, angry that the bird wouldn't let them feed it, threw rocks and tried to catch it. They caught a round of bloody noses instead, and afterwards left the crow alone. Rei thought Makoto would have approved of her solution, but her parents certainly hadn't, and had sent her to bed without supper that night.

Rei used to think that the crow had come to her because it had somehow known what she was thinking when she fell past it, and had taken pity on her, given up a little of its freedom to stay with a little girl who wanted to fly so badly. She was proud of the names the other children called her, thought that if enough of them called her a bird, she might turn into one and be able to fly for real, fly away with her friend and touch the sky with her entire body, not just her mind.

One night, a year or so after her friend had found her, she was crying in her room when she got the idea to try and fly again. This time she didn't just want to touch the sky, but to fly all the way to Heaven, to find the only other person besides her that the crow had ever let touch it. She had climbed up to the roof and stood there, ready to fly, imagining flying forever, when another crow had fluttered out of the darkness and perched on the chimney, watching her. Not yet, it seemed to say. Not like this. Another way.

She had come to live with Grandpa, and found that other way, found that it had been part of her all along. As she learned how to control her unusual gift, she stopped dreaming about flying. And although the unpretty, unpopular little girl had grown up and learned that she really was pretty, that she really did have friends, her oldest friends, the crows, continued to stay with her.

Thinking about it, Rei wondered if her feathered friends might not, like Luna and Artemis, be more than they seemed. They were every bit as protective of her as Luna and Artemis were of Usagi and Minako: when she had confronted Jadeite and been swallowed up by a dark vortex, they had stuck by her; when Kaolinite had stolen her heart crystal, the birds had protected her from the Deathbuster and the daimon she had unleashed; they had even tried to fight Lead Crow. They did not speak, and they never showed signs of weird powers—or had they? They had both been hurt protecting her; Lead Crow had come very close to killing both of them, and yet they always seemed to recover. And how old were they? Nine, ten years? How long did crows usually live?

Because they belonged to themselves and not to her, Rei had chosen not to name the birds, but after hearing Ami talk about astronomy, Usagi had nicknamed them Phobos and Deimos. The names of the moons of Mars, but also names for the Greek deities of Fear and Rout; Rei hadn't cared for the implications of those names at all. Crows had a bad reputation as messengers of ill omen, as noisy, spiteful scavengers, and old legends about the tengu, the 'crow goblins,' remained popular even today. Even the proper name for a group of crows—a 'murder'—was grim and menacing, but _her_ crows were none of those things, and the idea that a cowardly, clumsy crybaby could so callously slap an undeserved label on her two oldest friends had hurt her more than a little. And then there was the obvious risk to her secret identity; _somebody_ was bound to put two and two together if they saw a girl who looked a little like Sailor Mars calling two birds by _those_ names.

She had forgiven Usagi a long time ago, and while she nearly never spoke the names aloud, Rei still sometimes found herself thinking them. Because it had been watching her when she fell, when she fought gravity and lost, the larger crow was Deimos; the smaller one, the one that had flown to her on a night when she was scared and crying, was Phobos. She wasn't a zoologist, but Rei thought Deimos was male, and Phobos, female; whether or not they were mated, she had no idea, but since there had never been any baby crows around, she doubted it.

"Do you two like being called Phobos and Deimos," Rei asked quietly, "or do you have names of your own? Would you tell me if you did?"

Deimos preened at one of his wings; Phobos fluttered over and perched on Rei's shoulder, looking at her face. For a moment, Rei actually thought the bird was going to say something, but then the black head tilted to look down towards her hand, and she chuckled.

"No, no food in there." Rei rapped her knuckles on the Book's cover. "Even if I could get it open. But I'm not going to give up after just one day," she added determinedly. "I'll figure it out."

Phobos' caw seemed to approve; either that, or she was hungry. And feeling the slight hollowness in her own stomach that came from skipping dinner, Rei decided that food might not be such a bad idea. She dropped the Book off in her room, retrieved and scattered some feed for her friends, who set to pecking it up with a will, and then headed for the kitchen to see what she could find for herself.

In her room, forgotten for the moment, the Book of Ages lifted itself—or was lifted—from the floor, to drift steadily through the air before it settled neatly on the low table. Outside, Phobos and Deimos looked up from their meal, casting about with their eyes before flapping nervously up to the roof. Coming back a few minutes later with a couple of sandwiches and a glass of milk, Rei didn't notice that they had left nearly half of their meal untouched—strange behavior for any crow, even this pair—but once in her room, she definitely noticed that the Book had somehow covered six or seven feet of space by itself.

Suddenly, she wasn't feeling quite so hungry.

"Inhale." Ami took a deep breath—"Hold."—held it—"Exhale."—and let it go. "Roll your eye to the left. To the right. Up. And down. Quack like a duck." Ami almost started to do that, too, then frowned.

"Very funny, Mother."

Mrs. Mizuno smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "The patient is stubborn, refuses to follow doctor's orders."

"'The patient' is tired of being cooped up indoors," Ami retorted in the same clinical tone. "'The patient' would _like_ to get back to her life."

"Has she been this cranky all day?"

"On and off," Makoto reported. "She was more than a little upset that I let her sleep in on a school day, and it's gone downhill from there."

"Then I'd say she's feeling better." Mrs. Mizuno laughed. "Every time she got sick as a child, you could tell that she was feeling better when she got angry."

"So I can go to school tomorrow, then?"

"Whatever it was you had seems to have cleared up, so as long as you don't overexert yourself, I don't see why not. And I trust you _will_ take it slowly?" she added.

Ami sighed. "Yes, Mother."

"Good. And how are you feeling, Mako-chan? Any fever, dizziness?" Makoto shook her head, and Ami's mother sighed. "I see."

"You sound almost disappointed."

"Stymied, actually. I'm still not sure exactly what this was. The symptoms, the onset, the duration; the only conditions I can think of that fit are all ferociously contagious, but since nobody else has gotten sick... Ami, you didn't by any chance miss your period this month, did you?"

"No. I. Did. Not." Ami's voice had gone flat. She tacked on a belated, "Mother."

"Just covering all the bases," Mrs. Mizuno said lightly. "After all, better safe than sorry, especially with a handsome young man around. Wouldn't you agree, Mako-chan?"

"Oh, definitely. Can't leave those two unsupervised for a minute without them all over each other." Makoto's grin was wicked.

"Makoto!"

"Is that so? Well, Ami, just remember that I'd rather put off being a grandmother for a few more years yet. Having said that, though," Mrs. Mizuno added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "as long as you're careful..."

"MOTHER!"

As anticipated, the Tsukinos ate supper in the living room. Ikuko usually insisted they eat at the table, but since that was still being monopolized by Setsuna, she relented for once.

Usagi, eating much more slowly than usual so as not to spill anything on the couch or carpet, wondered about Setsuna's sudden obsession with sewing, to say nothing of how well she seemed to be going about it; she herself could barely thread a needle without sticking her finger at least twice, and her mother's expertise was limited to patching holes and tears. And knitting. Ikuko was a very good knitter; the pink scarf with the white bunny on the end that Usagi was so fond of was her mother's work. Setsuna had at least the air of someone who knew what they were doing; only time would tell if it was just an act, or if she had the skill to back it up.

With everyone being careful about their food and drinks, supper was still some distance from being done when the sounds of sewing machine and scissors finally stopped. Footsteps followed, heading down the hall to the nearest washroom, then came back a few minutes later.

Setsuna entered the room and struck a pose. "What do you think?"

Usagi's eyes boggled. *Those _can't_ be the same jeans.* Tattered and oversized had been replaced by intact and snug. More than snug. To be honest, Usagi couldn't see how Setsuna was able to move; those jeans were tight at the waist, tight at the ankle, and didn't appear to loosen up at all in between. They were the kind of pants that make onlookers very much aware of the legs beneath, and were in their own way even more revealing than the standard Senshi miniskirt. Usagi couldn't quite understand how at first, but then she realized that, short as they were, miniskirts were still long enough so that you could at least _walk_ without worrying that everyone was staring at your butt; the jeans, on the other hand, practically invited attention.

"Very nice," Ikuko said. "How'd you manage to patch them up so neatly?"

"I had to pick out the stitching on the legs, and since they were a bit baggy to begin with, I trimmed some of the extra material before I stitched the legs back up. And the fold between the two halves hides some of the holes on the sides. The knees, now," Setsuna added with a critical glance, "were a bit trickier to hide." She blinked, then smiled a bit nervously. "Just don't ask me how I knew to do it all."

"Ikuko," Kenji said after a moment, "do you suppose Hanna and Annah might like to meet Setsuna?"

"I thought about that a few times this afternoon," Ikuko agreed. Noticing Setsuna's puzzled look, she explained. "The Sousei sisters, Hanna and Annah, are old friends of mine who own a clothing store at the mall. Hanna sells suits and the like in the left-hand part of the shop, Annah works mostly with dresses in the right, and they've got a section in the middle with a lot of off-the-rack items; T-shirts, socks, that sort of thing. They do in-store alterations and take quite a few special orders, and they're always saying they could use another pair of hands."

"That might be interesting," Setsuna admitted. "And I do seem to know at least a little of what I'm doing." Then she shook her head with a pained expression. "'Hanna' and 'Anna?'"

"Annah," Ikuko corrected, pronouncing the last syllable slightly differently. "Say one sister's name backwards, and you get the other. It's a joke they've been playing since we were in high school, but they both take it pretty seriously." She glanced at the clock. "I don't think I'll be able to get ahold of them tonight, but I can call them at work tomorrow and see about setting up a meeting for you, if you'd like."

Setsuna nodded. "I'd appreciate it. Is there any of that chicken left?"

"And some rice. It should still be fairly warm. But make sure you put away your things before you eat," Ikuko added sternly. Setsuna smiled, turned, and walked—no, _swayed_—back to the kitchen. Usagi wondered if she could get the older girl to teach her how to move like that after ChibiUsa was born and she'd slimmed down again; the imagined look that would produce on Mamoru's face made her chuckle wickedly.

Usagi frowned and turned back to the living room. A weird sort of choking noise had interrupted her good humor, and her first thought was that either someone's dinner had gone down the wrong way, or Luna was yacking up a hairball. But Luna was nowhere in the room, her parents were talking, ChibiUsa had gotten up to follow Setsuna to the kitchen, and Shingo was... staring at his plate so intently that she immediately suspected something was up. _Nobody_ looks at something with that kind of focus unless they're purposely trying _not_ to look at something else. And why would he be blushing?

The answer hit her, and Usagi bit back what could have been either rueful laughter or a shocked spluttering. She had the image of the annoying, runty little brother fixed so firmly in her head that she was sometimes surprised to realize that Shingo was growing up, too, with everything that entailed. And yes, from time to time she'd stopped to consider that he was probably going to develop a crush on at least one of her friends sooner or later. Actually, it was a subject she liked to tease them about, Ami in particular. Considering that time Shingo had saved Ami from one of the Dead Moon Circus' lemures by baiting the thing into chasing him until the other Senshi arrived, or when _she'd_ saved _him_ with a well-timed application of CPR... suffice to say, Ami got a little defensive whenever somebody suggested there might be more to either incident, and Shingo wasn't much better. That, Usagi could have dealt with.

But SETSUNA?!

Minako was doing a little reading under the light of her bedside lamp, turning pages with one hand while idly scratching Artemis' ears and chin with the other; the white cat had long ago thrown dignity aside in an attempt to get her to rub his belly, which had worked beautifully. Luna would have snorted in disgust at the display, called Artemis several unflattering names, and then stuck him with her claws a few times for good measure. Minako probably wouldn't have noticed the ruckus that hypothetical scratch would have caused; she was perhaps a quarter of the way through the book—the size of which would likely have startled her friends—frowning, and occasionally moving her lips as she read. The title read 'War and Peace.'

In Minako's defense, it must be said that reading the book had started out as an assignment from the teacher of the advanced English class at Juuban. Of the four Senshi attending that school, only she and Ami were taking said 'advanced' course, and Minako was prouder than anything that she was actually getting higher marks than her friend. Slightly higher. Sometimes. But what had begun as an assignment to 'expose you to the great literary works of the world' had turned into a personal crusade. They were only supposed to have read a few chapters, just to get a sense of what the story was written like, but once in, she'd gotten hooked and kept on going. The fact that Ami—until she got sick— had been reading the entire book as well had absolutely nothing to do with Minako's desire to finish the thing. Or so she kept telling herself and Artemis.

The phone rang downstairs, then her mother called up, "Miiinaaa! Telephone!"

"Hang on a sec!" Setting the book aside, Minako reached over, turned her phone on—she shut it off at night so she could sleep even if anyone called; anything important would come over her communicator—and lifted the receiver. "Got it!" When she was certain she'd heard the click of the other phone being hung up, she spoke. "Minako the Magnificent here, how can I brighten your evening?"

"It's me, Mina-chan," Rei's voice said. "Is Artemis there?"

"Hey, Rei-chan. Yes, he's right here." Out of habit, she paused to make sure there wasn't any trace of muffled breathing—her mother was forever trying to listen in on her daughter's 'personal calls'—then lowered her voice even though the door to her room was closed. "If this is something to do with Senshi business, I'd feel a little better if you talked to him over the communicator."

"Usagi might try to listen in if I did, and I don't want to bother her with this."

"Oh. Gotcha. It's for you," Minako said, holding the phone so she could still listen while Artemis spoke into it.

"Hello?"

"Artemis, it's about the Book."

"Did you get it open already?!"

"No, it's still locked. Actually, I've been trying to focus on it for about four hours today, and I haven't gotten a thing. But that's not why I called. Artemis... can the Book... can it move by itself?"

Artemis and Minako blinked. "'Move by itself'?" they asked in unison.

"I left it on the floor in my room when I went to get something for supper, right next to the door. When I came back, it was on the table."

"Uhhh... I'm not sure about that, Rei. I was under the impression that the Book's only powers were the information it contains, how it keeps that information sealed up, and the fact that it's supposed to be the next best thing to indestructible."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that." Rei sighed. "All right. When you see her tomorrow, can you ask Luna to meet me on the way home from T*A? But don't tell Usagi," she added. "I don't want to scare her."

"Right. But Rei... you be careful tonight, okay?"

"I just spent an hour setting wards up around my room," she replied wryly. "Kunzite himself couldn't get in here without leveling the place first."

Artemis chuckled. "Goodnight, Rei."

"Goodnight, Artemis. Mina-chan."

"G'bye." Minako hung up and switched off the phone, then looked at Artemis. "It moves, huh?"

"Apparently so."

They held each other's gazes in silence for a long moment before Minako got out of bed and lifted the top mattress; Gladius remained where she had put it, the only spot in her room she could be reasonably sure her mother wouldn't go digging into by chance. She'd packed enough extra blankets around the stone sword to prevent the impression of the thing from keeping her awake, and as long as she remembered to make the bed in the mornings, nobody would notice. But of all the things to have tucked away under her bed, this was about the last she would ever have imagined, and that fact alone had made it hard to sleep last night.

"And it can move too?"

"It's been known to happen."

"And there's no way to make it smaller?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no."

"Great."

Not much happened that night.

Rei maintained a vigil in her room until nearly midnight, but nothing disturbed the protective aura generated by her wards, and the Book did not move again, so she finally called it a night and went to sleep. Towards one o'clock, when she was far into sleep, one of the kanji-marked paper wards stirred as if caught by a brief, passing breeze; even asleep, Rei's mind sensed the disturbance, and she stirred faintly. When the ward stopped moving, so did Rei, lapsing into dreams where she wandered in a library filled with wind-driven papers.

Minako and Artemis slept soundly and without interruption. Gladius did not so much as twitch, or even flicker, but Minako had an odd dream too, one in which she was holding a sword and chasing Ami across a landscape that was made up entirely out of book pages. Artemis dreamed mostly about tuna.

Elsewhere, Ami and Makoto also slept peacefully. Well, sort of peacefully. Makoto was dreaming about a bright-eyed member of the boys' soccer team, while Ami was dreaming about forcing Makoto to eat a mountainous pile of pancakes and drink a small lake of tea. Despite the marked differences in the nature of their respective dreams, they were both smiling contentedly for much of the night.

The apartment where Proteus' victim dwelt remained filled with the greenish substance, all of it glowing a dull red from within as the experiment continued. Proteus did not sleep, but instead carefully observed every tiny detail of its project.

Probably the strangest thing that happened that night was at the Tsukino house. Someone walking down the street at around one-thirty—an unlikely occurrence—might have spotted a humanoid shape standing among the shadows on the second floor balcony, looking in on a room where two young women, one younger girl, and a cat lay in various states of sleep. Saturn smiled faintly; she could hear Usagi and ChibiUsa snoring even through the glass door. Yawning, she decided that she might as well turn in for the night, and after one last look at her friends, she set out for home—where, just to be fair, it can be said that Michiru and Haruka were both well into the middle stages of REM activity. Haruka was dreaming about a grand prix race against every monster she'd ever fought, driving some truly bizarre vehicles, while Michiru's dream involved Haruka and a large swimming pool, and was just slightly naughty.

Had Saturn hung around on the bedroom balcony a few minutes longer, she might have heard another sound over the snoring, a soft series of sighing chimes and crystalline tinkling coming from somewhere in the room. And even if she hadn't heard that, she would definitely have noticed a few moments later when the little bird-shaped glass sculpture on the shelf above Usagi's bed started to glow with a pale, reddish-orange light, casting rainbows of color and shadow across the room.

Under that shattered spectrum, Usagi was dreaming about Mamoru; so was ChibiUsa, though in very different terms. Luna dreamt about herself, in her human form, which did not seem quite so terrible in a dream as it had during her brief transformation the previous evening. And Setsuna saw the same thing that had been in her dreams every night since her arrival, from the moment she slipped into true sleep until the split second when she woke in the mornings.

A tall, ornamented staff shaped rather like a huge key, floating through an infinity of mists and mirrors...

"YEEEE-HAAAH!"

Two of these surprise visits in a week, Michiru decided as she sat up to survey the impact damage, was definitely pushing things. Not for the first time, she considered getting a lock installed on the bedroom door. And also not for the first time, she dismissed the idea; if Saturn really wanted in, it was going to take one truly amazing lock to keep her out.

Hotaru was more or less ignoring Michiru this morning, putting all her attention on Haruka, who was struggling unsuccessfully to escape a storm of little-girl kisses and hugs.

"Off! Off!"

"Happy birthdaaaaay!" With the force of that exuberant congratulations, both Haruka and Hotaru fell over the side of the bed with a pair of startled shouts and a muffled whump. Michiru started giggling, then toppled sideways on the mattress in full-blown hilarity when they both peered over the edge. Haruka looked at Hotaru; Hotaru looked at Haruka. As one, they nodded, then jumped forwards. Michiru was not especially ticklish, but Haruka knew of a few spots even her iron self-control couldn't stand up to; and Hotaru made up for not knowing those weak points with sheer enthusiasm. Michiru's laughter took on a note of desperation as she tried and failed to fight off the attack.

"I—mmph!—s-s-surrender—ha!—cut it out you—hoo, ha, ha!" Haruka's grinning face appeared in Michiru's field of vision, upside-down and with her nightshirt in some danger of slipping off one shoulder. Smiling, Michiru put one hand on the back of Haruka's neck and lifted her own head slightly for a light kiss. "Happy birthday, Haruka." Michiru's smile didn't fade in the slightest when she added, "Hotaru, get her."

Haruka was still blinking when Hotaru jumped on her again. Michiru followed about a second later, and it was the birthday girl's turn to try and defend herself.

"Off! Haamph! I said—ha!—off! Not the knee—hee, hee, hee! Ha! Quit it!"

Setsuna wondered if she might not have made a mistake.

Ikuko had made that promised phonecall at midmorning, and her friends had proven more than amenable to meeting Setsuna after lunch. She and Ikuko had left the house and caught a bus shortly after that call had ended, headed first to the department of public records. The employee that met them at the front desk turned out to be the same helpful fellow Setsuna had spoken to over the phone, a grey-haired, grey-eyed fellow of average height who was as good as his word, and had copies of all the information she'd been after. In the middle of watching him work, Setsuna had been struck by a very odd feeling, almost like the one Usagi had triggered in her that first night—a sense of recognition, of knowing someone without actually knowing them.

"Excuse me," she'd asked, "but have we met? You seem... familiar... for some reason."

The fellow had seemed momentarily startled, but then he just chuckled. "I'm told I have one of those faces. I don't see it, myself, but that's what they tell me."

It wasn't until ten minutes later, on a bus headed for the mall where the Sousei sisters ran their store, that Setsuna realized the man's reply had completely failed to answer her question. And ten minutes later, she was too busy meeting Ikuko's friends to worry about it.

As she had guessed from their names and Ikuko's descriptions, Hanna and Anna-with-an-'h'-on-the-end were twins. They had the same soft brown hair and eyes, the same above-average height and slender build. As far as beauty went, they were somewhere in the comfortable range between 'handsome' and 'pretty,' though to look at them side-by-side, Hanna was just a touch sturdier, Annah slightly more delicate. Their voices were indistinguishable, and they were wearing carbon-copies of the same outfit, dark blue vest and skirt over pale white blouse. They were very happy to see Ikuko again, pleased to meet Setsuna, and just a touch put out that she seemed able to tell them apart at a glance.

After several minutes of catching up, Ikuko had fallen silent and stood aside as the sisters proceeded to question Setsuna. 'Interrogate' was probably a more accurate description. They asked what she knew about fashion in general and sewing in particular; with information that essentially catalogued the length of recorded history drifting around in her head, Setsuna was more at a loss for where to begin than for something to say. Hanna asked a number of technical questions nobody but a seamstress could have understood, and got equally technical responses; Annah handed over a sketchpad and described an outfit she was working on in only the vaguest possible terms, and blinked when she received the pad back with a complete drawing on the front sheet, along with a few details she had left out. They both asked to see the jeans—technical and artistic skill counting for nothing if Setsuna couldn't actually thread a needle or stitch a seam—and seemed to try everything in their combined power that might unearth a fault.

In the end, the sisters grudgingly agreed that Setsuna 'might work out,' and asked whether she was available to start right away, their faces going from sour and disbelieving to eagerly hopeful so fast that Setsuna did a double-take.

"Just for the rest of the afternoon," Hanna said immediately. "So you can get an idea of how we work and whether or not you can handle it." She frowned, then admitted, "We've gone through three assistants since this past September, and to be honest, we could really use the help." Ikuko had no objection to the arrangement and headed home, though only after making Setsuna promise to let Hanna and Annah drive her back instead of trying to catch the bus or a taxi.

Three hours later, Setsuna paused in the middle of measuring off a length of fabric to watch from the corner of one eye as the sisters argued over something. It was the seventh such incident that afternoon, and it was as loud as anything Setsuna had witnessed between Usagi and Rei or Usagi and ChibiUsa. If it was a daily or even weekly thing, she could understand what had driven away three previous workers. Still, life with the Tsukinos had helped her find the trick of tuning out this sort of thing, and she admitted to herself that she was enjoying the work. Even though she didn't entirely understand why.

Glancing through the door that separated the front of the shop from the working room in the back, Setsuna blinked. What were Michiru and Haruka doing here?

*Stupid question,* she thought a moment later, grinning wryly as Michiru pulled a dark grey coat off the rack and held it consideringly up in front of Haruka.

The opportunity was too good to pass up. Setting down the materials in her hands, Setsuna slipped out through the door and walked up behind the pair. Haruka's back was to her, and Michiru was going through the rack of suit-coats again; evidently the grey had failed to meet one or both of their standards. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, as a matter of f-AAAH!" Michiru jumped, clutching another coat as if it were a shield. "Don't DO that!" she snapped, breathing heavily.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." Michiru made as if to hit her with one hand, or maybe it was just Setsuna's imagination playing tricks as the blue-haired girl put the coat she was holding back in its place. One of the two cashiers/salespersons who worked here, a rail-thin young man named Guomo, chuckled audibly; when Michiru spun to confront the source of that sound, she found only a sober, serious expression of innocence. She glared at Guomo, then turned her attention to the other employee, Ifumi, a pretty brunette whose face went wide with surprise at the accusing look.

Haruka was fighting off a smile; she had jumped a bit, too, but not nearly as much. And she definitely hadn't yelled. "She's been having a bad day. Hotaru woke us up with one of her little bombing runs this morning, and Michiru's agent called at around ten with some ideas that really needed to be shot down. That lasted until one, and she hasn't been fit to live with since."

"I'll remember you said that," Michiru promised.

Setsuna smiled. "So what are you doing here?"

"We could ask you the same thing."

"As of about three hours ago, I work here." They both looked at her in surprise, slightly tinged with concern. "I'm fine, really. In fact, I'm better than fine. I haven't felt quite this... I think the word I want is 'normal.' Yes. I haven't felt this normal since I got here."

"I never really went for the 'normal' lifestyle," Haruka noted. "Too bland. But if you're sure..."

"I am. Now, before my new employers let go of each other's throats long enough to start wondering why I'm not still working on that suit they left with me, is there something you two were after?"

"A birthday suit," Michiru said. Setsuna blinked, unsure whether she was supposed to laugh, stop short, or just nod her head, but Michiru was already explaining. "Haruka claims to hate surprise birthday parties, so to keep me from throwing one, she lets me make dinner reservations at a restaurant and then pick out a suit for her to wear. I chose a blue dress with gold trim for the occasion this year, and she needs something to match."

"I see." The look Setsuna directed her way then made Haruka feel as if she were being stripped naked, weighed and measured, and then hung up for sale somewhere. Then Setsuna turned to the selection of suits. "Black would be too dark, and grey too pale. Brown? No... ah..." She drew out a metallic blue coat and held it up. "I think this would go nicely with her eyes, and since her hair's already gold, that would match with your dress, wouldn't it?"

Michiru moved around to stand next to Setsuna and added her own slice-and-dice look, then nodded with a wide, approving smile. Haruka began to get a sickly, sinking feeling in her stomach as the pair hauled her off in search of the rest of the suit.

The experiment continued. What was in the pod, what _had_ been Hiroshi, was now something very different. More, in some ways, and less in others. Proteus had continued to monitor the incubator's progress throughout the night and into this day, making adjustments where they appeared necessary, recording each and every detail. Soon, now, it would be time to move on to the next phase of the experiment, to...

Something caught the entity's attention. An unplanned change in the incubator, taking place on a massive scale, too sudden and complete to stop or even slow.

*It is not time!* Proteus shouted at the thing that should have been under its control. *You are not ready yet! _I_ am not ready yet!*

No good; the change accelerated. Chemicals that were not supposed to mix went ahead and did so, wall sockets that should have continued to feed the pod a steady flow of energy surged with power before blowing themselves out, and the physical shape of the thing began to warp and tear. Desperate, Proteus calculated whether or not a second infusion of energy would be sufficient to pacify its awakening creation. The risk of detection from another power burst was considerable, but if the creature were to break loose...

It became a moot point as, with a great ripping noise, the fleshy substance of the incubator parted. A chemical soup spilled onto the carpet, threatening to dissolve it and perhaps the floor beneath until Proteus put forth what little control it had left to spread an absorptive blanket of green over the surface, soaking up the spill before any permanent harm was done. There might still be a chance to avoid detection, so long as it minimized the signs of...

The shape in the apartment threw itself at the nearest wall. Limbs that were not quite arms extended towards the surface, extending digits that were not quite fingers. The incubator, responding to Proteus' will, lashed out with creepers and tried to halt its offspring, but the misshapen thing responded with creepers of its own, creepers tipped by short hooks of what might have been bone, and sliced free of its 'parent.' Proteus commanded more creepers, and still more when those failed. And while the creature's attention was diverted, Proteus ordered a patch of itself near the apartment balcony to unlock and slide open the door.

When the last of the creepers fell away, the creature turned towards the floor of air, recognizing in some fashion that this led out. It wanted to go out; that was part of the program Proteus had installed, and that program was too powerful to ignore.

Proteus slid the door shut behind its creation and set about hiding all traces that either of them had ever been in this place. The thickly-clustered green substance receded into the walls and vanished, taking with it the corrosive slimes of the incubator. In the computer networks, Proteus erased all records of that apartment ever having been owned by a man named Tanaka Hiroshi, erased every last trace that the man had ever existed. With the information it had absorbed from his mind these last few weeks, it knew exactly where to look.

Midway through its data purge, Proteus noted that, although it could no longer exercise any sort of control, the device that had been implanted on Hiroshi's neck was still functioning, somewhere inside the creature. It could not control, but it could monitor.

Perhaps the experiment was not a complete failure.

Rei pulled her coat a little tighter and walked a little faster. Setting aside Monday's freak blizzard, it had been getting warmer over the last few days, but today's chilly, gusting wind was more than making up the difference.

Luna appeared atop a low wall. "Sorry I'm late, Rei."

"It's okay. Did Artemis tell you what I said about the Book?"

"He did." Luna grimaced. "And as much as I hate to admit it, for once I've got no more ideas about something than he does. Did anything else happen last night?"

"Nothing unusual. The wards were all intact when I woke up, and the Book didn't move again." The wind gusted again, and Rei shivered. "Do you mind if we walk while we talk?"

"Not at all." Luna jumped down from the wall and into Rei's arms.

"That's not quite what I had in mind, Luna."

"I'd imagine not."

In spite of herself, Rei laughed. "You're as bad as Usagi, you know that?"

"Talking to yourself, Rei-san?"

Rei and Luna both nearly swallowed their tongues. Turning, Rei saw that Keiko and Anya had hurried to catch up with her. "Keiko, don't sneak up on me like that!"

Keiko smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Rei-san. I promise I'll find some other way to sneak up on you in the future." Rei glared at her for a moment longer, then let out a sound part-way between a sigh and a laugh.

"That's a beautiful cat," Anya said. "Is she yours?"

"No. This is Luna; she lives with Usagi. Luna, this is Anya. And you remember Keiko, don't you?" Keiko waved with the fingers of her left hand, and Luna meowed a suitably kitty response. *Wasn't she the girl with the odd sense of humor who...* Luna broke off the thought as a weird sensation rippled across her awareness. *What is that? It feels... it feels like trouble. Is it coming from one of them?*

Anya had been about to scratch Luna behind the ear, and her hand had stopped short when Luna's head turned.

"She doesn't bite, Anya." Anya smiled and patted Luna on the head with a touch of nervousness. Luna's eyes narrowed. *Is that coming from her? What _is_ it?* Then she wrinkled her nose. *Uggh... what is that awful smell?!*

Rei paused suddenly as a warning flashed from her subconscious. As she started to look around, Keiko blinked in confusion. "Is something wrong, Rei- san?"

"There's something out there," Rei said softly. "It's close." Anya looked at her for a moment, then sniffed at the air and nearly gagged.

"Do either of you smell that?"

Rei and Keiko had just enough time to catch a truly foul reek on the wind before something big and fast-moving appeared, its green-grey outer hide—or whatever—trailing a mass of rope-thick tendrils and steaming in the chill as if it had just emerged from a hot bath or shower. It looked a little humanoid, but only in the sense of how it had been arranged; four limbs ended in twice the number of digits Rei had ever seen on any normal animal's arm or leg, while its head, riding low between the massive shoulders, looked like it had been flattened. And then there were the vine-like growths trailing from its back.

In all, the thing looked like a plant trying to be a human, but without much success. Seven feet tall and three feet wide, it knocked all three girls down as it tore past them, huge and grotesque feet tipped with little rootlets digging into the ground and ripping small chunks out of the concrete with each step. Looking at those tracks, Rei had a horrible vision of what might happen if that thing were to step on one of them. It was, fortunately, only a product of her imagination and not an actual glimpse of the future, but between that and the stench, she was ready to be sick. Then she saw the direction the freakish thing was headed, and her stomach turned to ice.

"Are you two all right?" she said quickly, noting that Luna had already vanished in pursuit of the creature.

"Yes, just a little..." Anya started to say, positively green in the face. "What _was_ that thing?"

"I don't want to know," Keiko said immediately, shuddering.

Rei nodded. "Head back to the school and get somebody to call the police. I've got to find Usagi before... I've got to make sure she's..." She took off at a dead run.

"Wait!" Anya half-shouted, reaching out and letting her hand fall when she realized Rei, already clear down the street, hadn't heard.

Ryo nearly collided with a telephone pole when the vision hit him, a single, brief image of someTHING he'd never seen before accompanied by an almost overwhelming sense of danger.

"GET BACK!" he shouted, catching hold of Ami's shoulder with one hand, Minako's elbow with the other. Minako's indignant squawk and Ami's startled exclamation were both drowned out by a splintering sound from the wall to their left. Bits of brick went flying as something massive tore through in an explosive unleashing of raw force, knocking everyone off their feet. Ryo and Ami caught each other as they fell and slid sideways back down the sidewalk, and Artemis let out a loud yowl of protest as Minako fell on him; on the other side of the blast, Makoto had practically enveloped Usagi, then somehow managed to turn both their bodies in mid-air so that hers was the one to hit the ground first.

The wall-buster took off at a shambling run, indifferent to their presence. Or maybe it just didn't see them through all the dust and flying snow.

Rei came around the corner a few moments later, just as they were all getting up. "Are you all right?" she said immediately. There was no question who she was directing the inquiry to.

"We're fine," Usagi replied. "I take it you saw that... thing?"

Luna appeared atop what was left of the wall. "We did. It ran right past us."

"It's another one of those fungus monsters, isn't it?" Minako demanded, dusting herself off.

"I'm not sure." Rei frowned. "It looks a little like them, but its shape is... wrong, somehow. They were all as springy as elastic, but this one's a lot more solid. And the others didn't have roots, did they?" At the startled glances, she pointed to the holes in the sidewalk and the road, which continued up to a blasted-out gap in the wall across the street.

"Where do you suppose it's going?" Makoto asked, trying to remember what lay in the direction the creature's trail was pointed.

Minako took out her transformation pen. "I know one way to find out."

Rei was staying with Usagi, and Ryo couldn't have followed anyway, but there had been a bit of a heated argument when Ami announced that she was coming with Venus and Jupiter. They all pointed out that her last attempt to transform had literally blown up in her face, and that she was supposed to be taking it easy, but she ignored both points and pulled out her transformation pen anyway. The change went off without a hitch, but Mercury didn't look much better than she had before, and it was only after she had promised—three times—to hang back and let the others do the fighting that they agreed to let her go. Ryo had added something about her owing him another one, which for some reason brought a healthy blush to Mercury's cheeks; the blush probably helped more than anything else to convince the others she up to the task.

She had no trouble keeping up with Venus and Jupiter as they chased the creature, and her visor and computer were working as well as ever, but Mercury still couldn't shake off a slight nervousness. The transformation had worked this time, but there had been a moment or two when she was almost certain she was about to lose it. And even now, she didn't feel completely right; the physical benefits of strength and speed and reflexes were all there, but there was a kind of hollow, unfinished sensation riding at the edge of her awareness. It was a feeling almost exactly opposite to the sense of gathering energy that preceded the use of a Senshi attack, and Mercury suspected that it really would go better for her if she didn't try to use her powers.

*Worry about it if it comes to a fight,* she chided herself. *For right now, keep your mind on the problem at hand.*

She was trying to figure out where this latest creature was headed. Walls did not slow it appreciably, although it seemed to be intelligent enough to realize that going over or around buildings would be much easier than trying to batter through a dozen or more of the walls within. It didn't seem to be taking any interest in people, either, which was very unusual. But then again, as Rei had pointed out, this one wasn't like the other fungus beings; Mercury's analysis showed some similarities in its makeup, but more about it was different than the same.

Her computer beeped, alerting her that the creature's energy field was generating a steady series of high-frequency pulses, and Mercury recognized the phenomenon immediately. *Radio waves. The thing's transmitting radio waves.* Her eyes narrowed. If it was transmitting, someone, somewhere, had to be receiving.

The thought came to her that this creature might be a decoy, sent in to lure the Senshi out, observe their behavior and fighting styles, and transmit what it learned back to its masters before it was overcome and destroyed. Past foes had never tried that tactic, and Mercury feared it might be very successful; part of the reason the commanders of the various dark forces had been so much more difficult to defeat than their minions was not just due to their greater strength, but because they had frequently faced the Senshi beforehand, had a chance to learn how they fought as individuals and worked together as a team. The thought of an entire _army_ of superhuman creatures with access to that kind of knowledge was more than a little disturbing.

"Jupiter!" Mercury called out. "Can you hit that thing on the move?"

The blue jacket had been joined by grey pants, a starched shirt, and—despite some heated objections from Haruka—a red necktie. She had been silently grateful that the Sousei sisters didn't sell shoes as well, and then had to talk _very_ fast when Annah suggested they stop by a shoe store just down the hall.

*I suppose I should count my blessings that these two didn't try to color-coordinate me down to my socks and underwear.* She glanced sideways at Michiru and Setsuna, then shook her head. After outfitting Haruka for the evening, Setsuna had informed Hanna and Annah that she wouldn't need a ride, and, shouting matches or not, she fully intended to be back tomorrow. The sisters had been glad to hear it; Guomo and Ifumi gave her looks that said she really ought to reconsider that last part if she valued her sanity. Now they were on their way to the parking lot.

"I'd still feel better if you let me at least _look_ for something," Setsuna was saying. Haruka sighed. One reason she tried to keep her birthdays quiet was that it saved her from having to deal with the awkwardness of accepting gifts she really had no use for.

"I think we can accept the help you gave us finding the suit as a suitable present," Michiru replied.

"Or the look on Michiru's face when you snuck up behind us," Haruka added.

"Yes," Michiru said blandly. "Or that."

"I'm not exactly the easiest person in the world to shop for, and to be honest, I wouldn't feel right accepting something from you, Setsuna. Not after you've lost..." Haruka grunted as Michiru's elbow dug into her ribs.

"It's okay," Setsuna said. "I don't mind talking about it. And I can understand how you might feel uncomfortable, Haruka. But would you mind terribly if I went ahead and bought you something anyway?"

Haruka thought it over, remembered Setsuna's earlier claim of enjoying her 'normal' life, remembered how happy she sounded talking about it with Michiru just now. She sighed. "Alright. Just as long as you promise not to tell anybody else, okay?"

"Done and done. I have..."

Whatever Setsuna had remained a matter for another time, as a skylight overhead suddenly shattered, dropping a rain of glass shards and something very large and unhappy into the mall. Most people dove for cover, but Setsuna merely took a long step to the left and a slight step backwards. Michiru tried to figure out what the woman was up to while keeping her own eyes on the falling creature; both tasks ended abruptly when Haruka knocked her down and then crouched over her, shielding Michiru with her own body as the glass hit the tiled floor with a loud crash.

"My hero," Michiru said dryly, earning an answering grin as Haruka got up and helped her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Michiru frowned; 'fine' could have a lot of meanings with Haruka, but this time, she seemed to be telling the truth. They both looked at Setsuna, who had somehow managed to stand right in the middle of the falling glass without being touched, and was looking down at the shattered debris with an expression of absolute astonishment. "Neat trick," Haruka muttered. "Tell you what, you can teach me how you did it and consider _that_ a birthday present."

"I'm... I'm not sure what just happened," Setsuna admitted.

"Worry about it later," Michiru said. "Right now, we've..."

"Attention all shoppers," a loud, clear, and familiar voice called from above. In spite of themselves, the three Senshi standing on the floor looked up at the three who were just beginning to descend through the busted skylight. "We apologize for the inconvenience presented by this little interruption," Venus continued grandly, "and would ask at this time that, for your own safety, you all clear the area while we engage in a little urban pest removal."

There was a moment in which nothing moved. Then a horde of slightly panicked shoppers began to move in all directions, getting as much distance between themselves and what was coming as possible.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Venus called to the wall of fleeing backs as she, Jupiter, and Mercury took up positions around their rising enemy. Michiru and Haruka looked at each other, glanced at Setsuna with a look that said 'stay out of the way,' and ducked around the nearest corner.

"Mercury," Jupiter said, "is it still transmitting?"

"No. The electrical energy from your attack seems to have overloaded it like I hoped, only now it's..." Mercury jumped as the creature snapped its squashed head forward, lashing at her with its mane of razor-tipped tendrils. "...mad," she finished lamely.

"Then quit talking," Uranus said sharply as she and Neptune joined the ring, "and take it down!"

"Where did you two..." Jupiter started to say, turning her head to look at Uranus. Her eyes widened. "What's _Setsuna_ doing here?!"

"We'll explain later," Neptune snapped. "Now, together, before it has a chance to move!"

Mercury opened her mouth, but her words were lost in the crackle of energies as the other four unleashed their attacks. Venus' Love Chain entangled it first, followed by the Deep Submerge, Supreme Thunder, and World Shaking hitting it all at once; the thing was blasted into the air on a pillar of electrified water, still tangled in the heart-shaped gold links. But even as it continued to ascend, small spikes appeared on the creature's chest and shoulders. The green substance around those spikes seemed to contract slightly, and they shot forward. The Senshi dodged easily, but at the same moment, the creature flexed its massive arms, and Venus' chain shattered. Then it did something unexpected, reaching out with its arms towards the rim of the broken skylight and catching itself, heedless of the sharp glass that would have mutilated a human's hands. Hanging there, the mold-man moved its large legs up, the rootlets that served as its toes lengthening and hardening into more spikes. Again the green matter contracted, and again a barrage of woody darts rained down.

Mercury found herself sharing cover with Neptune, who didn't look very happy with her. "Why didn't you..." The Water Senshi broke off as she got a good, close-up look at Mercury's still-pale features. "Are you sure you should be here, Mercury?"

"It was broadcasting some kind of radio signal earlier. I had Jupiter zap it, and that seems to have killed the signal, but if starts sending again, my computer's the only thing we have that'll pick it up. I'd rather not take the chance of whoever was on the receiving end being able to watch us in action, would you?" Neptune's mind worked every bit as quickly as Mercury's; any of the others would have needed a full explanation before they understood the danger, but Neptune just nodded.

"Fine. But stay down."

"Hey!" Venus shouted. "A little help, here?" The creature had moved itself to one side of the skylight and seemed to have fused one of its arms into the materials of the roof; it had essentially become a living turret, its legs moving to track the movements of the Senshi as it fired those piercing splinters. When Mercury and Neptune looked over the low wall they were hiding behind, the free arm aimed straight at them and fired its own barrage. They ducked back immediately, but one splinter slashed across Neptune's head and imbedded itself in the floor beyond, trailing a few strands of her hair.

Neptune touched one finger to a spot of blood in her hairline, where the very roots had been torn out. "That was a little too close, I think." She risked another quick look. "Right. It's got Jupiter and Uranus pinned down behind the counter of that deli, and I think I saw Venus dive around the corner across the hall. We need some way to bring it down, but as long as it's up there firing, nobody can stand up long enough to take a look, let alone shoot it."

"Up there," Mercury said, pointing at the sprinkler system. "If you bust open the sprinklers around that thing and we get Jupiter to send a bolt up into the pipes a minute later..."

"Better have Uranus and Venus ready to hit it when it's distracted," Neptune advised. "Water and electricity didn't seem to bother it very much." She looked up at the sprinklers as Mercury relayed the hasty plan to the others, focusing her will and her power on the water in the pipes that ran through the ceiling. *Flow,* she told it. *Break loose and flow!* She heard three, four, five popping noises in rapid succession, followed by a steady gush of water. There was a muffled shout from behind the deli counter, and a dazzling net of expanding energy flashed up towards the falling water; almost instantly, there followed a loud crackle and a mass of hisses and pops rather like frying bacon. Venus and Uranus jumped out of hiding and fired, Beam and Blaster streaking up at the shocked mold-man.

The others scrambled out of hiding in time to see their enemy falling, the end of its left arm blackened and trailing smoke. But its thick legs spread wide as the creature dropped, absorbing the shock when it touched down. Uranus was already charging, sword out, to engage the thing at close range before it could start shooting again. Neptune hastily focused on the pipes again, wrenching the flow to a halt and then willing the water all over the floor to gather itself up and push away. If Jupiter fired again while Uranus was out there, with all that water laying around... *Damn it, Haruka, you know better than that!*

The mold-man met Uranus' charge by reshaping its blackened arm into a thick shield, harmlessly absorbing the first swing. A moment later, the Space Sword skirled piercingly against a heavy, scythe-like blade of what might have been bone, erupting from the creature's functional right arm. The weapon was three times the size of Uranus' sword, and with the shield to block on one side, the mold-man was suddenly the one with the advantage. Uranus jumped, tucking her feet up underneath herself as the huge blade swung through the air below her. The shield-arm moved up, and she had to grab hold of the edges to keep herself from being hammered out of the air. And then it was another desperate jump as the sword-arm chopped down at her head; she was only half-landed, standing on one foot, when the shield-arm shot forward and struck her full in the chest. Uranus flew backwards and crashed sidelong through a store window, her sword skittering away over the tiles in the other direction. The mold-man took a step forwards, and then another.

"NO!" Neptune shouted. "Get away from her, you monster! This is her _birthday!_ Do you hear me? LEAVE HER ALONE!" Neptune raised her arms with a wordless scream of rage, unleashing her power without a second thought about how to control it.

The mold-man stopped its advanced towards Uranus as the water that had been flowing away suddenly returned. Not only that, but the pipes in the ceiling, floor, and surrounding walls exploded as the water within them heard and heeded the call of its mistress. A massive sphere of liquid formed around the creature, growing to five, ten, fifteen feet across in the space of heartbeats; inside the building ball, the mold-man spun crazily, the force of the incoming jets of water pushing it in a dozen conflicting directions at once. For a moment, its movements stabilized enough for it to look at Neptune. Then she brought her arms down.

With a sound like someone cannonballing into a swimming pool, only backwards, the huge orb imploded. There was a moment, just before water began to erupt from all sides, when the Senshi could clearly see the thing start to shrink, pushing in on itself and the creature it held as every point on the outer surface tried to go to its opposite. Then there was just water, flying every which way imaginable. The Senshi ducked out of the way of the blast, all except for Neptune, around whom the flying water seemed to part. When the others looked again, a soaked and shattered mass of manlike mold was all that remained in the middle of a vast, spreading puddle on the floor, its limbs twitching feebly.

"_Water_ did that?" Venus asked in astonishment.

"Water pressure," Mercury explained. "Unless I miss my guess, for a moment there—for just a moment—that thing was feeling the kind of force they build submarines to withstand." She frowned, aiming her computer at the thing. "Given the damage it just took, I can't understand how it's still holding together..."

"Are we too late?" ChibiMoon's voice asked as she and Saturn appeared. "We got here as fast as we could after that odango-atama thought to call us." Her face took on a disbelieving cast when her eyes fell on the battered creature. "Is _that_ it? Doesn't look like much."

"Neptune sort of put it through the wringer," Venus told them. "We were just debating what to do with the rest of it."

"I'll take care of it," Saturn said. She raised the Silence Glaive... and Mercury's hand closed around the haft.

"Don't! It's human! Look," she added, pointing at the thing. The Senshi looked, and blinked; the green substance, pulverized beyond its ability to recuperate from, was sloughing away in massive sections with the draining water, leaving behind a soaked, battered, and unconscious man.

"Is he still alive?" Venus asked quickly.

"He's not too badly hurt, physically," Mercury replied after a moment. "The green stuff took the worst of the damage, but I think we'd still better call an ambulance for him."

"I'll do that," Setsuna murmured, moving off in search of a phone.

"Should I..." Saturn began.

Mercury shook her head. "Better not. That green stuff is alive, too, and if there's any of it inside him, you might heal it, too." Saturn nodded and began looking around.

"Over there," Jupiter said, nodding towards the broken display window. Neptune was just visible beyond, kneeling beside something that was making faintly audible sounds of protest and trying to bat her hands away.

"I am perfectly capable of getting up on my own," Uranus said hotly as the other Senshi gathered around.

"Not until Mercury and Saturn have had a chance to make sure nothing's broken," Neptune replied with equal heat. "Now shut up and be still."

Uranus shut up and was still.

"Maybe I was hearing things," Venus began, looking at the two of them as Mercury started scanning for the extent of Uranus' injuries, "but Neptune, I could have _sworn_ I heard you say it was her birthday today."

Neptune and Uranus exchanged a long look, during which Neptune's face slowly turned a brilliant red. "Sorry," she murmured.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be."

Proteus debated its next move.

All accessible information on Hiroshi had been purged long before the humans had begun looking for it, and the thoughts and memories that had belonged to him had been drained even before that, and were now floating about in Proteus' own awareness. This did not eliminate the possibility that someone might yet be able to identify the man, but that information would be of little use _unless_ more of Proteus' enslaved humans were tied to similar incidents as Hiroshi. That would, eventually, form a trail back to the call center where they all worked, the one element all of them had in common.

But without risking at least one more of its pawns, Proteus knew it would be trapped as it was forever, or until it was found out and destroyed. The possibility of discovery, when held against the certainty of eventual destruction, was a risk worth taking.

Adjusting its plans, Proteus selected another human, a woman named Nanako, and began its next experiment. It would move slower this time, conduct the transformation slowly, to improve its control of the final product. It would use what it had learned from Hiroshi and do better.

It had no choice.

Haruka kept the smile on her face until the door closed. She'd been wearing the expression for most of the night, and her jaws ached from the effort. Michiru, she swore, was going to pay for that little slip-up at the mall.

Dinner had, despite her fears, been absolutely wonderful. Even with the starched shirt and tie, the suit was more comfortable than she'd expected. Michiru, with her hair done up in a style where a swathe of hair veiled one side of her face while the rest tumbled down her back—left bare by that clinging, hinting sea of gold-trimmed blue she called a dress—had been nothing short of breathtaking. Haruka had spent most of the evening either staring at Michiru or glaring at other people who were staring; she supposed that she must have eaten something at some point, but for the life of her, she couldn't recall what.

It was when they got home and found the rest of the Senshi waiting for them that everything fell apart. Michiru's one little mistake, a moment of verbal carelessness in a fit of rage, had sparked a mad shopping spree among the younger girls, a last-minute attempt to find 'the perfect gift.'

Looking at the gifts piled on the table, Haruka shuddered. Usagi and ChibiUsa had thrown in together for a pair of fuzzy slippers. Racing cars, thank God or Buddha or whoever else was responsible; Haruka thought she would have killed them on the spot if it had been bunny slippers. Minako's choice of fuzzy novelty dice had not been much better. Rei's gift had been a prayer for good luck and prosperity in the coming year, and a blessing ward hung on the front door to drive away evil spirits. And no, Rei had added, that didn't include Usagi. She had also found a book of wisdoms somewhere, a collection of the sort of pithy little sayings found in fortune cookies, newspaper horoscopes, and Minako's scrambled vocabulary. *Maybe she's trying to get me to convert or something,* Haruka thought absently, picking up the book and flipping through the pages. *Good luck.*

Ami's present had been the two-volume 'Encyclopedia Acceleratica,' a self- proclaimed 'guide to all things automobile.' Haruka had flipped through it as well, and it seemed to be an honest claim; she'd have to remember to thank Ami. Ryo had very politely skipped out on the whole business—Ami's boyfriend, it seemed, had the makings of a wise man in him—and Hotaru had settled for giving her another massive hug and kiss; anything more pricey would only have irritated her 'papa,' and Hotaru wasn't about to endanger her allowance. Makoto, who had sent Ami on with the others and then arrived about ten minutes after Haruka and Michiru returned home, brought a freshly-baked batch of banana muffins to substitute for a cake, and a pair of coffee mugs. The one had what looked to be an eagle painted on the side, while the other bore a dolphin. Very clever of her, really, to come up with something that would appeal to Michiru.

And last but not least, there was Setsuna's gift. Another book, entitled 'The Art of Modern Fencing,' a not-so-subtle suggestion that perhaps Haruka ought to polish her swordswomanship if she meant to go blade-to-blade with other monsters in the future. The muffins had followed, and Haruka gave up and enjoyed herself a little. It was hard to be grouchy when you were eating anything Makoto had whipped up.

But everyone was gone now, and the only trace of the muffins were a few speck-sized crumbs, so Haruka was free to feel as grouchy as she liked. Tugging at the high collar of her shirt again as she climbed the stairs—she'd unbuttoned the thing hours ago, and the tie was long gone—Haruka went ahead and was grouchy. A little. Being mad at people who were just showing that they cared about you was no easier than being grouchy while eating Makoto's cooking. But the slippers and dice helped.

Out of long habit, she looked in on Hotaru, who was already soundly asleep, before continuing on to the bedroom. Empty. *That's odd. Where'd Michiru get to?*

A sound made Haruka turn around. And then her eyebrows tried to climb into her hairline.

Michiru was wearing something... at least, Haruka _thought_ she was wearing something. Her skin didn't usually have a blue tint to it, but the thing was so sheer that it was practically nonexistent. Her hair was down, and she was smiling.

"Happy birthday, Haruka."

Haruka managed a squeak as Michiru closed the door behind her.

SAILOR SAYS:

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

(The picture shows a Sailor Moon test pattern, with Moon herself standing in the center, holding up a sign that reads 'Technical Difficulties—Gomen nasai!' A grinning, winking Venus is giving her classic 'V' sign in the lower left corner; Mars drums her fingers irritably in the lower right while Mercury is consulting a user's manual above; Jupiter is leaning against the side of the screen, waiting, in the last corner, and Luna is asleep below Moon. The test pattern is replaced by a totally dark screen.)

Minako: Are we on?

Rei: I'm not sure. Ami?

Ami: The sound's getting through, but we don't have any picture. Hang on a minute.

Rei (muttering): Trust the odango-atama to wreck our only camera.

Usagi: Hey!

Makoto: Come on, let's just do the moral.

Rei: Yeah, whatever. Today's moral is...

Minako: Malls are sacred ground, and any who defile them will suffer terrible retribution?

Usagi: Mold and mildew are a menace to life as we know it, and must be eradicated?

(The dark screen manages to sweatdrop.)

Rei: I think today's moral has to do with how, no matter how carefully you plan and prepare, you have to remember that you're never completely in control of a given situation, and there's always the chance that something unexpected will come along to prove it. The people who are backing those 'Directors,' for example, thought things were 'being taken care of' until the events from the last episode proved otherwise; their reaction in this episode was brought on by overconfidence. Proteus got a taste of uncertainty as well, when its experiment blew up in its face.

Makoto: And there's Haruka, how she thought she was going to be able to slip her birthday past without us finding out. But what sort of a moral do you get out of all that?

Rei: Simple. Things don't always go like you plan, so don't assume they will. Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. That way, if the worst happens, you'll be ready for it.

Makoto: Not bad. Ami-chan, how's that picture coming?

Ami: Not very good. I think...

Minako: Here, let me see!

Ami (sounding nervous): Uh, no... Mina-chan, really, I can get it... don't touch that!

Usagi: Mina-chan, get away from there and let Ami-chan do her... hey, watch it with that!

Ami (sounding desperate): Not that way, Usagi! Don't step on the...

*ZZZZZAP! ZZZZZZZZORT! CRACKLE! SSSHHHHHHHHHHHH—BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

(After a screen of snow, the test pattern reappears. Jupiter is restraining a shouting, kicking Mars, who is trying to get free and strangle Moon, who is sticking her tongue out with one eyelid pulled down; in the upper right, a cheerfully smiling Venus is about to take a hammer to a control console, while Mercury has turned away with her eyes covered. The sign has fallen on Luna, who doesn't look at all happy about it.)

24/06/00 (Revised, 15/08/02)

Ah, done at last. And no matter what else happens, I can safely say we will see February (early) in the next episode.

Next time:
-One or two things come together while others fall apart;
-More on Atlantis;
-Rei tries her luck with the Book.