If I Die Before I Wake Chapter 1: Visions Of The Future, a sailor moon fanfic

IF I DIE BEFORE I WAKE
Chapter 1: "Visions of the Future"
A Neo-Sailor Moon fanfic

By Bill K.

The people were queued up for the palace's daily meet and greet with the Queen of Crystal Tokyo. It was a ritual that had been observed since her ascension in the twenty-first century. The only interruptions had been during times of countrywide crisis, such as the Dark Moon Invasion, or when the Queen was otherwise unavailable, such as when she gave birth to the Princess.

This was another of those times. Serenity was unavailable for personal reasons. But her daughter had gamely volunteered to fill in for her mother and greet the line of guests for the entire three hour session.

Standing guard was Sailor Jupiter. One of the Princess's senshi were originally considered for the job. But Saturn was busy with an exam for her pre-med course. Ceres was spending a long weekend with her boyfriend, Hiroki. Juno was in the south, helping a veterinary team study a disease that was running through the game preserve in the southern part of the island. Pallas didn't have the attention span to serve three hours as a bodyguard. And Vesta didn't have the patience.

"OH MY GOODNESS, IT'S THE PRINCESS!" cried an older woman as she advanced on Usa. It looked like she was about to caress Usa's cheek, until Jupiter gently stopped her. "I am SO honored to meet you!"

"I'm glad to meet you, too," Usa said diplomatically.

"I watched your wedding on the vid-stream!" the woman gushed. "Oh, it was SO wonderful! You looked absolutely beautiful!"

"Well, thank you," Usa told her. "It's certainly a day I'll never forget. And how is your family?"

The woman's expression dimmed. "I," she began. "Well, my husband's gone. And my son."

"I'm very sorry!" gasped Usa.

"They died in an air car accident," she related, "about nine years ago."

"Does it still hurt?"

"I've mostly gotten over it," the woman replied. "Except when something reminds me."

And Usa felt six inches tall.

Later, after the session was over, Usa and Makoto walked to the infirmary. As they walked, Makoto listened to a replay of events.

"Gods, how could I have been so STUPID?" fumed the pink-haired princess.

"It's not like you could have known," Makoto offered.

"Mom would have known," grumbled the girl. "Aunt Makoto, how does she do it? It's like every person she meets is automatically her best friend!"

"It's a talent," grinned Makoto.

"Gods, that was the worst three hours of my life!"

"Hon', you're being way too hard on yourself as usual," Makoto smiled. "You charmed most of the people who met with you. And you managed to rescue your conversation with that one woman so she left with a smile."

"You're not just saying that?" Usa asked doubtfully.

"Let me guess," smirked Makoto. "You were on auto-pilot because you spent the whole three hours mentally beating yourself up for putting your foot in it with that one guest."

Usa looked away with a scowl.

"And I thought Rei was hard on herself," Makoto said gently. "You are absolutely your own worst critic. Try giving yourself a little slack, huh? I doubt you're going to listen, but we all keep telling you that you don't have to be Serenity. You just have to be you."

"Yeah," sighed the Princess and Makoto could tell by the sound of the young woman's voice that the response was more to placate her than to surrender to her logic.

Further recriminations were interrupted when the pair entered the infirmary. Spotted by the desk nurse, they were directed into room four. Inside, they found Ami Mizuno at a virtual reality representation of a computer console. It displayed biometric information of the patient being treated, as well as treatment options. Laying in bed behind a biotic containment field was Serenity, Queen of Japan. Usa approached the field as close as she could, with Makoto half way between her and Ami.

"How are you feeling, Mom?" Usa asked.

Serenity gave her a listless shrug of her shoulders.

"Don't worry, Hon'," Makoto chipped in. "You'll be up and around in no time."

"You'd say that to a dying woman?" Serenity squeaked.

"Serenity, you are not dying," Ami sighed with exasperation. "You have the flu."

"Then why do I feel like I'm dying?" Serenity moaned.

"Because it gets you more sympathy," smirked Usa.

"Brat," the Queen pouted.

"Is that the new strain that's going around?" Makoto asked Ami. "I thought all the other strains had been cured."

"Primarily," Ami replied. "They seem to mutate as fast as we can cure them. This particular strain seems to be a mutation of the 63-B virus. The Ministry of Health traced it to a remote part of the Galapagos Islands."

"How did it get here? Hitch hike?" asked Makoto.

"Basically. An archaeologist picked up the infection in Galapagos and then brought it here," explained Ami. "Somehow it evaded the disease screening at the space port. He transmitted it to his wife, who we found was on the guest list for Serenity's Meet the People session two days ago. We're checking everyone else who was there to see if they were infected, but we've only found three positive cases."

"Yikes," Usa said, thinking about how many people she'd just met with.

"Ami-Chan," moaned Serenity. "I'm hot! And I feel like an army just marched over my body!"

"Serenity, I've given you all the analgesic solution I dare," Ami advised her. "It must be your superhuman metabolism. Perhaps if you get some sleep, you'll feel better when you wake up."

"Like a person can sleep feeling like this," the Queen whined.

"Aunt Ami, is there anything I can do?" Usa asked.

"Visit. You know how your mother gets when she's alone. And spend some time watching Mamoko so Endymion can visit. But under no circumstances bring Mamoko here. I don't want to risk her being infected."

"That's good advice," nodded Makoto.

"OK, Mom, I'm going to . . ." Usa began. But when she turned to her mother, she found the woman fast asleep. Usa and her two aunts grinned at each other.

The Kyushu National Wildlife Preserve was created by King Endymion and Queen Serenity in 2256 as a means of conserving natural habitat for Japan's native wildlife. The preserve, occupying one hundred fifteen square kilometers in the center of the island and bounded by Kumamoto, Miyazaki and Takachiho, was said to be an oasis of the fifteenth century amid the progress of the thirtieth. Tour groups could travel the preserve in monorail trolleys, sealed so there was no contact between person and animal. Biologist studies were made periodically, so that the wildlife could both flourish and be monitored for disease.

Accompanying a zoology team making a study of tropical birds was one Junelle Batista, more commonly known these days as Jun of the Royal Family. The party was making their way through the brush of the preserve, in search of a place to set up.

"Hold it," Jun hissed, putting out her arm to bar the party of three zoologists working with her. They were about to enter a patch of jungle. Everyone froze.

Slithering from one bush to another across a small barren path was a snake. Jun tensed perceptively, ready to move at the slightest provocation.

"Relax, Miss Batista," one of the zoologists smiled. He was twenty-four and just out of college, with thick black hair, an easy smile and a wiry, rugged frame.

"But that's a mamushi," Jun replied, not taking her eyes off of the serpent. "They're very deadly."

"No, that's a Japanese Rat Snake," the zoologist, Tomohiro Shimizu, assured her. "Their coloring is similar, so they're easy to mistake."

"I see," Jun said softly, embarrassed by her mistake.

"I want to know how you saw it!" said Keiko Fujima, another of the zoologists.

"When it moved under the bush," Jun explained, "I was able to notice the shift in colors between the leaves. It's a good way of spotting snakes."

"Well, now I see why they asked you along," Keiko exclaimed.

"Since you're our guardian," Tomohiro ventured light-heartedly, "would you say it's safe to proceed?"

Jun glanced at him to see if he was mocking her. Being mocked reminded her of the orphanage and she didn't take it lightly. But instead the zoologist seemed to be conceding her expertise in the jungle in a jaunty manner. It fit him. And she relaxed.

"Yes, it's safe now," Jun responded. "But go in quietly. We don't want to scare the birds."

The other two zoologists giggled to each other. But Tomohiro nodded and started forward cautiously, trying to make as little noise as possible. And Jun found herself admiring his attitude.

The party made its way into the jungle without further incident. A camp was set up in a small clearing one kilometer in. While Jun watched for predators, the scientists set up traps in the area. The idea was to trap a bird, examine it for signs of disease, tag it with a sub-dural beacon to track it, and then release it back into the wild. The beacon would then broadcast biological telemetry back to a receiver in Kumamoto for study.

When a bird was trapped, the zoologists would put on a skin tight polymer anti-contamination suit, much like the one worn by Ami Mizuno and the other medical personnel in the infirmary, to protect themselves from any possibility of becoming infected by a diseased bird. Jun remained in khaki shorts, hiking boots and a green blouse. She also kept her distance. By the end of the day, nineteen birds of varying species had been caught and tagged. The results of the examinations were logged in a tablet.

"Water?" Tomohiro said, walking over to Jun with a bottle. "I don't think I've seen you take a drink since lunch."

"Yes. Thanks," and she took a drink. "I really haven't needed a drink. The heat doesn't usually bother me."

"Because you're a Sailor Senshi?"

"Because I grew up in the jungle," Jun answered, glancing at him for his reaction. His surprise told her he didn't know of her origins.

"Here in the south?" Tomohiro asked.

"In Brazilia," she replied. "I must have lost my accent if you couldn't tell I'm not from Japan."

"I figured The Philippines," he grinned. "What's it like, being a Senshi?"

Jun shrugged. "You live in the palace. You get the best of everything. You're friends with the Princess." She paused. "And when some threat pops up, you lay it all on the line to stop the threat."

"Sounded great until the end," he said. "Why do you do it?"

"Beats where I came from," Jun replied. "And it makes up for some - - past mistakes." She quickly changed the subject. "So how about you? Why zoology?"

He sighed. "I had a puppy when I was a kid. Masashi. He was a mix of about ten different breeds. Playful as anything, and just full of love." Tomohiro darkened. "Then he got sick - - and died. Right then, I decided I was going to study animals to find ways to keep them from getting sick." He grinned at her. "And I didn't have the grades to be a vet."

Just then, they both heard a cry from Keiko. The bird she was removing from a trap had bitten her on the hand. As she recoiled, the bird lunged out of the trap and headed for a nearby tree.

Jun was off in an instant, matching the speed of the bird to the tree. She planted her foot on the trunk, took another step and leaped up onto the branch with uncanny balance. The bird tried to veer off, but Jun launched at it. Seizing it in both hands, Jun somersaulted in the air and landed on her feet several paces from Keiko. Nonchalantly she walked over and handed the bird to Keiko.

"That was amazing!" marveled Keiko.

"You Senshi really do have extraordinary powers!" added Tomohiro.

"That?" she asked. "I learned that in the jungle. And I, well, spent some time in a circus." They were still staring. "Is the bird all right?"

"Huh? Oh!" gasped Keiko and began running her tests.

"I've never seen anything like that," Tomohiro continued to marvel. "And to do that with that odd hairstyle of yours . . ."

"You've never been to a circus?" Jun asked.

"No," he answered. "Tell me all about it."

"Shimizu! I could use a little help here!" fumed Keiko.

"Oh! Sorry!" and he hurried over to his fellow zoologist. Jun smirked as she watched him.

Usually she was very reluctant to talk about "her circus days". But all of a sudden, Jun wanted to tell this man. She wanted to tell him everything, and to learn everything about him.

"Whoa," Jun whispered to herself. "That's a heavy thought."

The robot server slowly moved toward the cabinet nestled in the corner of the room. An arm extended from the main housing of the robot; the robot was a cylindrical thing with an observation camera mounted on top and four casters underneath. The three prongs on the arm slowly folded around the door handle on the cabinet. Once the grip was assured, it pulled down until the door's lock disengaged. The cabinet door swung open.

Reaching inside of the cabinet, the three prongs advanced to a rack of test tubes. The camera analyzed each tube until it found the one it was tasked to retrieve. Slowly the arm extended to the tube until the objective was reached. The prongs closed on the tube. When it was certain of the grip, the robot lifted the tube out. Securing the tube, it retracted the arm and turned one hundred eighty degrees.

As the robot advanced toward a chair on the other side of the room, the only thing that could be heard was the whir of the robot's servo motor and the beep of a portable vital sign monitor. The sparse, dingy room belonged to Hisashi Nakahara. Once he had been one of the leading biologists in Japan. His specialty was diseases, their growth, mutation and eradication. That was before he contracted Advanced Radiation Deterioration Syndrome. It was a disease prominent in the thirtieth century, in which repeated exposure to a particular wavelength of radiation caused the internal organs to shrivel and become necrotic. It was a condition that, as of yet, had no cure. His dear wife, the light of his existence, had already succumbed to the condition months ago.

It was Nakahara sitting in the chair, patiently waiting for the robot to return to him with the vial. An auto-spray mechanism was on the right arm of the chair, programmed to inject nutrients into him as prescribed intervals. On the left was the vital signs monitor. Nakahara was only forty-eight, but due to the ravages of his condition, he looked ninety. His hair had fallen out. His skin was shriveled on his skeleton. His hands quivered when he lifted them. Against the advice of his doctors, who advised he live out his days in a hospice center Crystal Tokyo had set up, Nakahara instead sequestered himself in his home, in his lab. If he was doomed to die, he wanted to die here.

The robot finally reached the chair. It was an older model and slower than more modern ones. But it had served Nakahara faithfully for years and he preferred it. Through eyes that were soon to fail, the man looked at the label on the vial. Finally he nodded.

"Execute program Z-100," Nakahara wheezed.

The robot turned and headed for the door. Once it reached the patio garden outside of the house, the robot would drop the vial on the stone floor of the patio. The vial would shatter and its contents would spill onto the stone, then evaporate into the atmosphere. For in the vial was a virus known as Nakahara-238, a mutated pathogen Nakahara had worked to develop when his devoted wife was taken from him. Nakahara-238 would be picked up by the wind and spread all over Crystal Tokyo. Developed to be a virulent virus resistant to all known anti-viral agents, the virus would induce respiratory distress in anyone who came in contact with it. Some people might be strong enough to resist the virus until their natural immune system could eradicate it. Many wouldn't be so lucky. If his calculations were even close, this disease could eventually kill as many as sixty-two million people.

Nakahara settled back and took a rachet-like breath. He didn't intend to die alone.

Continued in Chapter 2