This chapter contains some very obvious homages to both Todd Grimson and Stephen King. Before anybody accuses me of plagiarism, go read the Author's Notes. ^_^ Just for the record, I take no credit for the ideas behind the tongue piercing, the nosebleeds, the tattoos, and of course, the concept of the Hocksetter Institute. I just twist and skewer other authors' ideas until they fit cleanly and neatly into the bizarre little world of Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon. Long live Patrick Hocksetter!!! _______________________________________________________________________ "I'm not as apt to let things go on being mysterious as you are. I want my enigmas resolved." Todd Grimson, _Brand New Cherry Flavor_ Harper Prism, 1996 A long time ago, Yaten had a very confusing conversation with Aino Minako. They were laying on their backs, staring at the stars above them, surrounded by the lush greenery and the quiet nighttime shadows of the palace gardens. Minako broached the question. "Ne, Yaten-chan. Tell me something. I heard some people talking about a guard who was a . . . a 'psi.' What is that?" "A psi?" Yaten raised her eyebrows. "There's one in the palace? I didn't know." "But what IS it?" "A psi is a person that exhibits more than one of the universally recognized psi talents." "Uh . . . nani?" Yaten closed her eyes. "Minako-chan, I'm an empath." "I know." "That means that my brain can do things that normal brains can't. Empathy is one of the commonly recognized psi talents. Ano . . . And Hino-san. She's a low-level empath, and a clairvoyant. Because she exhibits more than one of those talents, she would be labeled a 'psi.' But it's very unusual to have more than one talent." "Wait a minute." Minako chewed her lip in consternation. "I get these feelings all the time, you know . . . I can sense evil, and stuff . . . I have dreams that warn me of danger . . . The other Senshi and I have used telepathy before . . . " "But that's *magic*. It's because you're a Sailor Senshi, and your Sailor Crystal grants you magical powers. It's totally different." "How so?" Yaten sighed, steeling herself for a long explanation. "Magic can be summoned or controlled by any old shmuck. Of course, it helps to have a Sailor Crystal, or in the case of a witch or warlock, dozens of years of practice, and ritual actions or words that help channel and control that magic. But psi talents are different. Psi talents are limited to a very small percentage of the galactic populace, and depend on a rare chemical and biological structure of the brain. While psi talents and magic can generate the same effects, both on their wielders and on the world around them, they stem from two very different sources. But there's another important difference. This is complicated, so I'll try to explain it as best as I can. There are a handful of universally recognized psi talents in the known galaxy. The most common are empathy, telepathy, telekinesis, and clairvoyancy. Of those, empathy and telepathy are the most difficult to distinguish between, but also the most common. All known psi are born with only one innate ability that they learn to develop and use over time. Like me, I'm an empath. However, sometimes buried within the brain of an empath or a telepath is the ability to use one of the less common psi talents, such as telekinesis. Usually, latent talents are, like, sealed away by a series of biological failsafes within the brain. The failsafes will eventually degrade and break down over time; but never until the brain has matured and developed enough to handle the new abilities. When more than one of the common psi abilities can be used, a person is labeled as a 'psi.' The system of biological failsafes is very secure and effective. With rare exceptions, it hasn't failed anybody in millions of years of recorded history. But there are also . . . other, more rare, psi talents. There are three which are considered forbidden talents. Pyrokinesis, electrokinesis, and chrono-variance. The forbidden talents . . . rarely manifest themselves. It's a once-in-a-two-hundred-year event if a psi somehow manages to tap into these talents. The reason that they're forbidden is because no psi has EVER successfully been able to control them. Nobody understands why or how these talents manifest, or why the failsafes guarding them break down while the brain is incapable of controlling these abilities. But when they do manifest, it's almost always a tragedy. The psi becomes an uncontrollable destructive force; if they don't manage to kill themselves, law enforcement officials usually do it for them. I know that it sounds crazy. I mean, when you think about pyrokinesis and electrokinesis . . . Sailor Mars and Sailor Jupiter control power like that on a daily basis. But remember, that's *magic*, and that's totally different. The most important distinction between magic and psi talents is this: Magic can almost always be controlled. Psi talents, however, cannot always be controlled. The forbidden psi talents can NEVER be controlled." Yaten finished, falling silent. "Yaten-chan, are you a psi?" "No, I'm just an empath." "Will you be a psi someday?" "Maybe. It's tricky, though. Right now, I'm not even sure how strong of an empath I am. I can't tell how much of it comes from my brain, and how much of it is being strengthened and amplified by my Sailor Crystal." "If you ask me, the distinction is really confusing." "Yes. It is." "But it doesn't really matter to us, because we're magic users, right?" "Right." It didn't really matter to them. In the days to come, Kou Yaten was going to look back on that conversation and laugh at the dramatic irony in that statement. Because it did matter. It mattered more than either of them ever realized. _______________________________________________________________________ Kinmokusei Story Chapter Eleven: Witchcraft by Kotetsu _______________________________________________________________________ When Seiya saw Yaten's living room, the color drained from her face and her legs wobbled dangerously. Yaten was sure for a moment that she was going to faint dead away; but that would have been uncharacteristically girly of Seiya, not to mention embarrassing besides. Accordingly, Seiya pulled herself together, cursed in awe, and managed to somehow steady herself on her feet. Taiki, of course, was much more practical about the matter. She took one step into the room, and immediately began asking the important questions. "Yaten, what in the world happened to you?!" "I'm not sure." "What's that on the couch?!" "I don't know." "You aren't crying, are you?" " . . . N-No." "Please don't cry," Seiya pleaded futilely as she rushed toward Yaten, wrapping her in her arms and embracing her tightly, unmindful of the fact that Yaten was literally dripping with blood and gore. There was an unpleasant squishing sound as Seiya pressed her body against Yaten's; but the smallest Starlight stubbornly bit her lip and refused to cry, refused to relax, refused to even let herself be comforted by Seiya's embrace. "I'm not gonna clean this up by myself," Yaten sniffed petulantly. "Of course not. You're not going to clean up anything," Taiki ordered sternly. "We're taking you to the medical wing, right now. Understand?" Seiya stepped away from Yaten, uncertainly, the front of her clothing now stained a gruesome shade of crimson. Yaten stood where she was, eyes narrowing through dripping red bangs. "I'm not *hurt*," she protested angrily. "How can you be so sure?" "Do I LOOK hurt to you?!" "As a matter of fact, yes." Yaten bit her lip. All right, seeing as how she was covered in blood, it was probably the wrong question to ask. She tried another approach. "I don't like doctors," she whined. "Tough." Taiki's hand shot out, grasped Yaten's slimy wrist, and yanked her forward roughly. "We're going. Now." "You're such a bitch," Yaten grumbled. "Funny. You usually have the monopoly in that department," Taiki countered. Seiya stood aside and said nothing, her eyes sliding over the gore- splattered ceiling, walls, and furniture surrounding her, feeling her stomach twist in sickening knots. The headless body on the couch looked just like Yaten. What was THAT supposed to mean?! "But where will I sleep tonight?" Yaten was still protesting, even as Taiki dragged her toward the door. "I mean, the bedroom and everything is okay, but I just CAN'T leave the couch looking like that! It's unsanitary!" "You're not coming back here. We'll get you a new apartment. This one isn't safe anymore." Taiki finally managed to drag Yaten out the door, and Seiya followed behind silently, her mind roiling with worry, her eyes shadowed, her lips frowning slightly, lost in her own black thoughts. Needless to say, the gruesome procession gathered quite a few stares as the three made their way through the palace hallways. At the medical wing, the nurses took one look at Yaten, and started screaming and fainting. The doctors, at least, could stand to look at her, although the head surgeon began barking "strip her and throw her in the shower!" before Yaten could even utter an indignant protest. They took Yaten away quickly, and within moments there were plenty of medical personnel swarming around Seiya and Taiki, too. Seiya was making quite a sensation with her blood-stained clothing; she mumbled that she needed a change of clothes, and was promptly attended to. As for Yaten, she was stripped and shoved into a freezing cold shower before she could even think of an effective way to break free of her tormentors. "They could have at LEAST made the water warmer," she muttered darkly as she began to soap up, trying to ignore the crimson water washing off her body and swirling around her bare feet. But she had to admit, it DID feel good to be covered in soap and water, even if the water was cold enough to induce hypothermia. She worked up a rich lather in her silvery hair, let it sit, rinsed, and lathered again, repeating the entire process no less than fifteen times. She scrubbed her skin until it was almost raw and bleeding, practically using up the entire bar of soap. Rinsing the last of the soap off her hands, Yaten paused for a moment, letting the cold water cascade over her naked body, chewing her lip, suddenly and inexplicably lost in thought. There was a very important question that she had yet to answer. Just what exactly HAD she done that had killed Yaten Number Two? She wasn't sure why that question was so important, but her gut instincts were telling her that it was so; and she had survived the past several years by learning to trust her gut instincts. Maybe it was her own empathic powers, tentatively stretching themselves into a faulty form of clairvoyancy; but whatever it was, Yaten KNEW that she had to find the answer to that question, and very quickly, or else she sensed that she might be in some sort of danger. Yaten blinked and shook her head, feeling the cold water splashing against her face. Not now. She was too tired, and too drained, to think coherently at the moment. She tossed the soap aside, turned off the shower, and turned around-- There was already a nurse waiting for her, holding a towel. "EEEK! PERVERT!" Yaten shrieked, surprised enough that some of her hair actually stood on end. The nurse, of course, immediately assaulted her with said towel, and despite Yaten's squawks of protest, was soon joined by a dozen or so more nurses, who all simultaneously tried to throw Yaten into some hospital scrubs, take her temperature, take a blood sample, blow dry her hair, examine her for cuts and bruises, look into her eyes and ears, listen to her heart rate, test her blood pressure, and ask her questions about what had just happened to her. Stabbed by needles, blinded by probing lights, half-dressed, struggling to escape two dozen smacking hands and jabbering mouths, cold and grumpy and thoroughly displeased, Yaten began swinging her arms and kicking her legs wildly, trying in vain to fight for a few feet of breathing room. "Can't a girl have any PRIVACY?!" she screamed at the persistent nurses. One of the nurses suddenly produced a rather large and frightening hypodermic needle. "Time for a tranquilizer!" she announced cheerfully, a helpful, friendly smile on her face. "But I don't need--" The needle jabbed into Yaten's arm, and suddenly, the world around her blended into a warm, soothing swirl of pastel colors and relaxing sounds and sensations. "All better!" the nurse exclaimed as she patted Yaten on the shoulder. She knew that Veridine Blue was powerful stuff, but she was licensed to use it on either a psi or a Sailor Senshi, should one ever become violent or difficult to control. And since her current patient just happened to be both, she wasn't about to take any chances. She couldn't remember if this one was supposed to be telekinetic or not, but it was best to play it safe, anyway. The Senshi had finally collapsed, flopping backward into another nurse's arms, a large, goofy grin on her face and her eyes open but glazed and distant. "Take her to a bed," the nurse instructed her partners. For Yaten, there was nothing but a long stretch of time filled with sunshine, rainbows, and butterflies. Had she been of a proper mind to think straight, she might have remembered that on the phone, Seiya had mentioned further research revealing a way to defeat Malathos. In fact, Yaten would have been terribly curious about that particular comment. But as it was, Yaten felt nothing but warmth and peace, and thought of nothing but white fluffy clouds and colorful pretty flowers. Eventually, the bright colors and happy thoughts bled into dull, exhausted darkness, and Yaten slept soundly, dreaming nothing. She awoke in the middle of the night, groggy and groaning, sitting up in a strange, dark, empty room, recognizing instantly that she was in a hospital room and feeling a brief flash of anger and resentment. Calming herself, she stretched out her empathic senses, searching for clues to her location in space and time. She touched upon many ill and weak dreams around her; she was surrounded by darkness and sleep, so it must have been late at night. She stretched farther, sensing that her Queen and her friends were gathered together somewhere nearby. They were worried about her. There were Knights there, too. And doctors. There was anger, worry, and fear tangled about them in tight, pulsing knots. They were having an argument, but neither side was gaining any ground. Kakyuu, Seiya, and Taiki wanted to see her. The doctors and nurses wouldn't let them; couldn't they sense that Yaten was unharmed and in perfect health? Yes, they *could* sense that, but Taiki was angry about the Veridine Blue - she thought that it was dangerous - and Kakyuu wanted to know what exactly had happened and how Yaten had managed to get herself so bloody and gory. Feeling more tired now, Yaten stretched her empathic probes beyond the frustrating argumentation. Back to her apartment. Her old apartment, as it was now. The custodial staff was having an absolute FIT about how to clean up the living room. Yaten tuned down her empathic senses, flopped back down onto the bed, and fell back asleep. The dream was more vivid than her waking moments. She was running, across smooth cold stones, breath rasping in her throat, heart pounding in her chest, pursued by something dark and terrible. It was a monster, and it wanted to eat her; that much she sensed, without daring to turn around, to be confronted with the horrible sight of its glowing red eyes and yellow, dagger-like teeth. But she was small, and she was fast; she was gaining ground. There was darkness in front of her, darkness above her, darkness below her, and darkness on both sides of her. Behind her was the monster, but it was falling farther and farther behind by the moment-- Suddenly, Yaten slammed into a stone wall. Dead end. She whirled, pressing her back against the smooth stones, fighting her rising panic. The monster was approaching her. It was hungry. It was salivating. Yaten felt cold, smooth metal sliding between her sweating fingers. She looked down, and was only mildly surprised to find herself clutching an ornately- carved silver dagger in one hand. And, as a sudden sense of calmness descended upon her, a vision of her only way out of the dream unfolded before her mental eyes with terrifying clarity. She knew what she had to do. Her free hand shot up to her mouth, pulled apart her lips, and inserted her fingers into her mouth. The monster was rushing toward her. Grasping her wet, smooth tongue between her fingers, she pulled it as far out of her mouth as it would go - not far - and held it steady. The hand clutching the dagger trembled. She forced herself to remain calm. She would have to do this quickly, forcefully, if she had any hope of survival. The monster thundered toward her, its tooth-lined maw gaping, its eyes shining with hunger and greed. Strong. Be strong, Yaten. Yaten raised the dagger high above her, and in one smooth motion, plunged it downward, piercing the meat of her own tongue all the way through. Kou Yaten awoke to blinding sunlight, and the salty taste of blood in her mouth. She blinked. She was alone in the hospital room, again. Slowly, carefully, she brought her fingers to her mouth and parted her dry lips. She slid one finger between her teeth, running it across her tongue. There. A painful, wet, bleeding, ragged hole. Yaten popped her finger out of her mouth, frowning with disgust. Her finger was covered in blood and spit. Gross. There was that gut feeling again. Yaten decided to trust it, as she did always. It had never failed her yet. But if she wanted the hole to remain in her tongue, she was going to need to fill it with something, and fast. Weren't these things supposed to close up after only a short while? Yaten felt her earlobes. No earrings. Not that earrings would have worked, anyway. Her tongue was thicker than her earlobes. Yaten wasn't sure, but she vaguely recalled that tongue piercings required some sort of barbell or something . . . Yaten found the button that would chime to summon a nurse, and began jabbing it repeatedly with her bloody finger. A nurse came rushing in. "Oh dear, you're awake already?" "Yes, I'm awake. Can I GO now?!" ******************** Security guards accompanied Yaten back to her old apartment, which was already filled with cleaners and construction workers, stripping the walls, ripping up the carpet, removing the furniture and the light fixtures. The body of Yaten Number Two had already been disposed of somehow. Yaten didn't care how; she was just grateful that it was gone. The bouquet of exotic flowers from her unnamed suitor was gone, too. This caused a brief pang of regret to flare in Yaten's chest, but not much. She had been looking forward to painting Minako holding one of the flowers. Oh, well. Life goes on. The furniture would have to be left behind, mostly. The kitchen could be packed and moved later. The bookshelves in her bedroom had been saved from the splatter fest, so those would be packed and moved later, too. That left very little - mostly clothing, and a few other things - that Yaten had to move right away. The guards watched silently as she gathered her belongings into a few boxes and bags. "Help me carry all of this," she commanded haughtily. The guards were happy to oblige. Her new apartment was already fully furnished, so she bid the guards a hurried farewell, unpacked, and threw on a comfortable change of clothing. She carefully made up her face and her hair, and was just about to fix herself something to drink when Taiki and Seiya came bursting through the front door without even bothering to knock first. "Yaten, you're--!" "Are you okay--?!" Yaten silenced them both with a wave of her hand. "I need you two to do me a favor. Can one of you drive downtown with me, and the other one cover for us until we get back?" They both blinked in unison. "Huh?" "I need to go somewhere unsavory to get a barbell for my tongue. There's no place that sells things like that anywhere near the palace or the federal government complex, so I need to go down to the metropolitan area. Which involves stealing - I mean, borrowing - a car from the guard's nondescript undercover set, making a quick shopping trip, and then coming right back here, with nobody none the wiser." "B-B-Barbell?!" "I pierced my tongue last night. Don't ask why; I just did." Yaten's voice was calm, accepting, and rational. Unfortunately, Seiya's reaction was not. "You WHAT your WHAT?!?!" Taiki groaned. "Yaten, you DO know that you were injected with Veridine Blue last night, don't you?" "I know," Yaten answered quickly. That was right . .. they had put her on some funky drug . . . although SHE knew that the piercing had occurred while she was already sober and free of the drug's effects, well . . . blaming her actions on a drug, rather than trying to explain that she had pierced herself in a bizarre dream that had somehow turned into reality . . . yeah, the drug method was most definitely easier. For the moment. Right now, she needed the cooperation of her friends, and maybe later she could work on trying to get them to believe the truth. "I know it sounds crazy, but . . . I kind of like it, and it hurt, so I don't want all that pain to go to waste." Seiya and Taiki exchanged worried glances. Yaten stuck out her lower lip and made her eyes huge and shiny, doing her absolute best to look cute and needy. Apparently, it worked. "All right . . . if you promise to sit down with us and the Queen, and talk about last night, as soon as we get back--" "Great! I'll need to grab my sunglasses, and . . . Um, Seiya, if you had a ratty old coat and cap I could borrow, that would be great, 'cause I'd rather not be recognized or anything. And I'll need to grab my purse . . . Which of you can come with me?" As if she were a child in a school classroom, Seiya raised her hand. "If I come, we won't need to steal a ride from the guards. Bel has a car. She can take us." Taiki raised an eyebrow, eyeing Yaten skeptically. "Are you sure that you know what you're doing? Do you know where to go, or how to get the proper equipment, or how to keep your tongue clean and prevent infection, or how to--?" "I know what I'm doing," Yaten snapped. Not less than thirty minutes later, Yaten, Seiya, and Belinda found themselves huddled on a crowded sidewalk outside a grimy-looking tattoo and piercing parlor in the midst of the downtown capitol area, arguing whether they should go inside or not. Belinda reached for Seiya's hand. "You said that we were looking for an unsavory place, but I think that this might be pushing it . . ." She laughed, nervously. "I've never been in this area of the downtown district before." Yaten examined the tattoo designs displayed in the window of the parlor. A fair amount of them depicted absurdly large-breasted women in erotic poses; the rest were various weapons, bleeding hearts, obscene words, and venomous reptiles. It was the type of place that normally would have made her shudder with revulsion; but today, that persistent gut instinct of hers was telling her to go inside, so she decided yet again to trust her gut. "This place is perfect," she concluded. "Just follow me in, and don't make eye contact with anyone." The three of them were dressed in ragged jeans, a medley of Seiya's old coats, and sunglasses. Seiya and Yaten had tucked their trademark ponytails underneath worn and faded baseball caps. Hopefully, nobody would either notice or recognize them. Seiya squeezed Belinda's hand reassuringly. "If Yaten sensed any danger, she wouldn't even think of letting us go in," she whispered into Belinda's ear. Then she added, teasingly, "You aren't afraid, are you?" "Hah!" Belinda stuck out her chin. "Me, afraid? Never!" "Then let's go, and let's get this done as quickly as possible," Yaten said as she pushed the door open. The three of them entered a dark, dank, foul-smelling little room. Dull, rusted, wicked-looking tattoo equipment lurked in the shadows to their right; the walls around them were covered in more disturbing tattoo designs; at the back of the room was a glass counter underneath which rings, barbells, zippers, and chains for every sort of piercing imaginable glittered underneath flickering light bulbs. Behind the counter was a spike-haired, pierced, tattooed, and overly thin young woman leering at them rather menacingly. Without hesitation, Yaten removed her sunglasses and marched straight up to the counter. "I need a new barbell for my tongue." "A 'new' one?" The woman's voice was low and sneering. "Lemme see your tongue." "I think not!" "Do you know what size you need, hon?" "Um . . . " "Just lemme see your tongue." Forcing herself to remain calm, Yaten leaned forward and opened her mouth. The woman whistled softly. "That's quite a hole you've got there. You do that yourself?" "Yes." "When?" "Last night." "It's starting to close up already. How did you manage to avoid the swelling?" The woman began rummaging through the glass counter below her, and pulled out a long barbell topped with a gold stud. "Open wide. This is probably going to hurt." "Is it supposed to be that long?" Yaten breathed softly. In her eyes, the barbell looked to be two inches or longer . . . That was absurd, it couldn't be, and yet . . . "It's five eighths of an inch. You scared, kid?" The woman smirked. "No." Yaten glowered. "Give it to me. I need to do this myself." "Be my guest." The woman slid a grimy mirror across the counter, and handed Yaten the barbell. Belinda and Seiya watched curiously, huddling together near the door. Yaten grasped the barbell with her fingers, forcing herself to not tremble. She took a deep breath, and stuck out her tongue. Her heart pounded in her chest. Yaten plunged the barbell through her tongue. A burst of pain that hadn’t been there last night shot through her mouth. She hissed sharply, but quickly pulled her hands away from her mouth and wiped them on her jeans. Icky. The woman raised an eyebrow. "Not bad. You gonna want to buy more than one?" "Sure. I might as well coordinate with my clothing." Yaten ended up choosing four more barbells, one of which was topped with a pair of silver flower buds. The woman bundled the barbells together in a paper bag, and rang Yaten up. "Tell your friends back there to stop by and get a tattoo sometime," the woman winked as Yaten paid her cash. "Tell them that I don't bite." "Sorry, but I don't think they're really the tattoo type." "Well, what about you then? You seem brave enough. A flower tattoo would look great on that cute little bum of yours." Yaten blushed furiously. "I'll think about it," she muttered. The woman slid something else across the counter. "My card. Take it." Yaten picked up the card and read it quickly. Solange Mercier, Professional Body Artist. " 'Solange.' " Yaten rolled the name across her tongue. "That's an unusual name. Norsic, isn't it? Named after a saint ordained in the Norsic third century." "No-one's ever pegged me as an alien before," Solange grinned. "Where in the galaxy did you learn anything about me old Norst?" "I spent some time on the planet Norst," Yaten answered vaguely. "I was with a friend of mine who's a hopeless bookworm; she just eats that sort of stuff up." "You're the most unusual customer I've had in along time," Solange stated appreciatively. "Think about what I said, okay? Stop by sometime, we'll talk about a tattoo." "I'll think about it," Yaten repeated as she turned and walked out the door. Seiya and Belinda followed her as she marched down the street. "Did it hurt?" Belinda asked curiously. "Yes." "Does it hurt now?" "Eh . . . not as much." Yaten rolled her tongue around in her mouth, running the golden stud against the back of her teeth, listening to the tatta- tatta-tatta-tatta sound it made. It was pretty neat, actually. "I don't suppose," Seiya began casually, "that if I asked you 'why,' you would give me a straight answer . . . " "I don't know why," Yaten answered honestly. "I just felt that it was the right thing to do." She stopped for a moment, turning her head from left to right. "Hey, where did we park?" "In the parking garage, down two more blocks." "Oh, yeah. Right." They kept walking. Yaten clutched the paper bag against her chest. Her ears were buzzing, and she was losing her sense of direction. Not good. Something was wrong. Suddenly, a thought with the texture of oozing slime slid across the edges of her empathic senses. She allowed her senses to flare, and turned her head to the left, following the thought back to its source. Across the busy street, on a sidewalk parallel to hers, Yaten saw a shaggy, scruffy, trenchcoated figure stalking along, keeping exact pace with her. He was staring at her as he walked, not even caring that she was now staring back. His greedy eyes hungrily devoured the way that her hips moved when she walked, the way that the shape of her breasts were barely discernable underneath her old coat, the way that her lips curved on her face and a stray lock of her silvery bangs brushed against her cheeks. His thoughts concerning her were very, very unpleasant. Yaten thought darkly. She thought it would be very, very nice if his nose were to suddenly start bleeding. It did. The man stumbled backward, surprised, as his nose began gushing a fountain of blood. The people on the sidewalk around him began screaming as the man cried out for help, and several members of the crowd surged forward, trying to calm him down and help him-- Seiya's head snapped to the left. "What's going on over there?" She couldn't actually see the source of the problem; the surging crowd concealed whatever was in its center. "Some creep tried to rob an old lady. The mob's taking care of it," Yaten answered. The buzzing in her ears was gone, thank goodness. "You don't think we should get involved?" "No. We wouldn't do anything but cause a commotion." "We're here!" Belinda chirped cheerfully as the three turned to enter the gaping concrete maw of the parking garage. ******************** Unfortunately, by the time they had returned to the palace and Yaten was sitting in a meeting with Kakyuu, Seiya, Taiki, and Melinda, the buzzing had returned. It felt as if its source were actually somewhere in the back of Yaten's brain. But she ignored it, and told her story. However, she left out the part about Yaten Number Two writhing erotically against her. (She didn't want herself, or even any warped version of herself, to be portrayed as a nymphomaniac. That would just be *unbecoming*.) And she left out the dream about piercing her tongue, too. It was best just to make the whole thing sound as if it were a drug-induced accident. "And when I woke up in the morning," Yaten finished, "there was a hole in my tongue. I think I put it there, but I don't remember how." "Let me see," Taiki said as she leaned forward. Yaten stuck out her tongue, upon which the gold stud sat and glittered. Melinda sniffed. "Vulgar." "I think it's neat," Kakyuu commented softly. Yaten felt a wave of welcome relief wash over her. Kakyuu didn't disapprove! Thank the Goddess. "This is why I oppose the use of Veridine Blue in hospitals," Taiki grumbled. "It's been known to cause psychotic episodes." "You can take that up with the Assembly," Melinda countered. "Shall we adjourn? I must speak with Adella. It's about something urgent." The Queen nodded, and the meeting dispersed. Yaten returned to her new apartment, and began unpacking and organizing her belongings. She ran her tongue stud against the back of her teeth as she did so, tatta-tatta-tatta-tatta-tatta. It was a soothing, relaxing sound. It countered the annoying, crescendoing buzz in the back of her head. She was unpacking her clothing and hanging it in her bedroom closet when without warning, the buzzing in her head ceased. And the lamp on the other side of her bedroom suddenly exploded. Yaten threw her arms up in front of her face, shielding herself from flying glass and pieces of lampshade. Curse it all. That had been her favorite lamp, too. An antique from her home Colony, Kinmoku Three. After a moment's pause, Yaten crossed her bedroom and looked down at the charred stump of the lamp's base, all that was left of it. As she stared at it, the buzzing began anew. Quieter and softer this time, but already growing louder and louder . . . Yaten touched a finger to her lips, and a sudden thought occurred to her. No way. "I'm telekinetic," she whispered softly to the empty bedroom. As soon as she said it, she knew that it was true. And with this sudden realization came a stab of sharp panic. Yaten rushed out of her bedroom and into her unfamiliar new kitchenette. She threw open a cupboard door, yanked out a glass and set it on the countertop with a slam. She paused, took a deep breath, forced herself to calm down, and backed away from the counter. She stood still, breathing deeply and quietly, concentrating, staring at the glass. It was a rough, homemade version of the Universal Telekinesis Test. If she could knock over, levitate, or otherwise move the glass after thirty seconds of intense concentration, then she would know for certain. Yaten tapped her foot against the ground, slowly, counting upward to thirty. One. Two. Three. Yaten stared. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. And stared. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. And stared. Twenty-nine. Thirty. The head of the kitchen faucet burst free of its base and exploded toward the ceiling, followed by a jet of cold, pressurized water. Yaten was instantly soaked by the spray. The glass, however, never moved. Yaten stood, wet, shivering, her heart slowly clenching with panic. Yaten Number Two's head. Her own tongue, pierced by her sheer willpower. The creep with the nosebleed. The lamp. And now, the faucet. No. No, that couldn't be right . . . "Dammit!" Yaten swore, pounding her fist against the wet countertop. Everything that Lady Anya had taught her about her psi potential contradicted what she was experiencing at the present moment. Yaten had been a highly receptive empath since as far back as she could remember. She developed excellent control of her talents under Anya's tutelage; but she couldn't be classified as a "psi" until she exhibited the ability to control more than one of the recognized psychic talents. If she DID possess the potential for other psychic abilities, they were locked away in the back of her mind behind a wall of impenetrable mental barriers. The barriers were expected to degrade over time, as she aged and gained the mental capacity to sufficiently control more powers. But . . . the biological failsafes weren't SUPPOSED to break down until she was able to control her telekinetic powers . . . No, it couldn't be. In the history of the millions of psi that had ever lived in the galaxy, only a very few had ever gained access to psi talents before they were ready to handle them. The biological failsafes were protecting her. Why should *she* prove the exception to such a strict rule? There had to be another logical explanation for it . . . Okay, so . . . If she wasn't telekinetic, what in the name of Maresuu was wrong with her?! Yaten stood soaking in the wet spray from her faucet, shivering, thinking. She had to calm down, and tackle the problem one step at a time. Step One: Call the plumber. Step Two: Dry off and change her clothes. Step Three: Go to the library. Research. Without Anya, she was on her own, but she still needed answers, and fast. Yeah, she could handle that. Simple. Yaten stepped out of the kitchenette, and reached for the telephone. Step One was underway. ******************** Malathos was screaming. Delilah could feel it vibrating through her bones, echoing through her head, thundering through the very stone walls that constituted their self-made dimensional pocket. She ran through the hallways, searching, seeking, trying to pinpoint the source of the trouble-- "Don't trouble yourself. It's not anywhere in this dimension." Delilah froze. Reynard was standing before her, dried blood still caked in his ears. "You're awake," she gasped, rather startled. "Obviously, yes. The Master's screams woke me up." "Do you know why--?" "Yes." Reynard narrowed his eyes. "Malathos is in pain. And it's mostly your fault." Delilah clenched her fists at her side. "My fault! How dare you presume--" "That CREATURE you created to send after the Sailor Senshi--" "The pipsqueak blew it up--" "Was intended to establish--" "A link between the Master and the girl's Sailor Crystal--" "So that, although an exchange of energy was flowing both ways, the Master's will would overwhelm and subsume that of the Sailor Senshi--" "But my beautiful creation was killed, and the link was broken!" Delilah's voice trembled. "It's not FAIR! And I spent so much time and energy working to create her--!" "The link wasn't broken, Delilah." "WHAT?!" Reynard stepped forward, dangerously. "Do you want to continue down this hallway and see Malathos face-to-face? I don't think you want to do that, because at the moment, he's ready to kill you. This is a big screw-up on your part. A . . . BIG . . . screw-up." "No." Delilah shook her head, blindly negating Reynard. "No, that couldn't be . . . What happened?!" "During the few moments when your creature actually managed to link the Sailor Crystal directly to the Master's will, the Senshi herself was flooded with enough of the Master's life energy to begin affecting her physical body. Her heart rate sped up, her breathing accelerated, and her glands began pouring out adrenaline into her bloodstream. Of course, she was aware of none of this, considering that her soul was being pushed *out* of her own body . . . But most importantly, synapses began firing in her brain where none had ever fired before. Her psi potential blocks broke down--" "I was counting on that!" Delilah snapped defensively. "If she was to serve the Master, she was to be tapped into her full psi potential. The Master would help her control it." "Mistake Number One." Reynard held up a finger. "You opened the door for her. With what little willpower she had left, she was able to telepathically *and* telekinetically lash out to defend herself." "So? When the creature died, the link was broken." "Mistake Number Two." Reynard held up a second finger. "Your failsafe mechanism built into the creature was faulty. You used outdated magic, didn't you?" "I was drained and exhausted from its creation . . . I had to cut a corner somewhere, and I--" "Do you know what you've DONE?! Only half of the link was severed! The Master is still directly linked to the Sailor Crystal, but now it is a ONE-WAY transfer of energy, from the Master, to the Senshi!" "What are you saying . . . ?" "That little brat is tapping directly into the Master's life energy, and she's going to drain him dry. She's going to kill Malathos!" "No!" Delilah cried out with defiance. "Sailor Senshi or not, she's still just a mortal teenager! Her body can't handle that amount of power - she'll die first!" "Either way," Reynard continued darkly, "the situation looks bad for the Master. He wants the Senshi alive, remember?! He needs to use those accursed Crystals for whatever he's got planned." "Oh, no," Delilah moaned. The Master screamed in agony, vibrating through Delilah's head. "We have to find a way to break that link," Reynard stated flatly. "Fast. Before either the Master or the Senshi ends up dead." Delilah could only nod silently, too horrified to speak. If the two of them could actually manage to find a way to solve the current crisis, that meant . . . that when Malathos regained his full strength . . . she was in for a very long, very painful punishment. ******************** Kou Yaten sat alone in a dark corner of the library, paging impatiently through a dusty collection of ancient texts on magic and sorcery. The buzzing in her head was back, and louder than ever. Now, however, it was going through cycles - starting out quiet, growing louder, crescendoing, and then ceasing altogether. At first the cycles had lasted about thirty minutes each, but now they were decreasing in length increasing in frequency. Unfortunately, each crescendo now corresponded with one of the light bulbs in the hanging lamps above her head flickering and suddenly dying out. Yaten heard Adella harrumph and pound her fist angrily against a wooden table. "I swear, I just replaced these darn bulbs!" she complained, her voice carrying loud and clear across the library and reaching Yaten's sensitive ears. Yaten thought with a touch of relief. She refocused her concentration on the book she was currently reading. 'Ancient Ritualistic Practices of the Pre-Colonial Witch Tribes' was the book's title. Reading the book so far, Yaten had learned how to turn her enemies into various reptiles, how to create low-level youma to do her bidding, and how to curse a man so that he would never be sexually potent. All very fine and interesting subjects, but Yaten had been hoping for something a bit more helpful or relevant to her current situation . . . She turned the page, and began a new chapter. The chapter was entitled 'Points of Power on the Female Body.' Yaten raised an eyebrow. This might prove helpful, after all. She turned the page again, and was greeted by a detailed diagram of a nude woman, every inch of her body marked with obscure and arcane symbols. Yaten ran her finger along the diagram, searching for the legend. There, in the bottom left hand corner. One symbol stood for sexual energy, another for greed and ambition, another for calmness and peace, another for clarity of thought and intellect, another for the amplification of magical energy, and yet another for a the restriction of magical energy. Yaten rolled her pierced tongue against the back of her teeth as she read, tatta-tatta-tatta-tatta-tatta. According to the book, the tongue was a point of restriction for magical energy. That made sense. The dream last night must have been some sort of instinctive, knee-jerk reaction to the increasing energy levels building up within her own body. By ritualistically piercing her tongue, Yaten had somehow limited her own capacity to store and use life energy. Another light bulb flickered and died. "DARNIT!" Adella swore. Yaten pressed her fingers to her forehead. She still didn't understand what she was doing, or how she was doing it. How exactly WAS she destroying the light bulbs, anyway? If it was her own telekinetic powers being used, then why did she have access to them before she could control them, and most puzzling of all, why wasn't she TIRED yet?! Opening herself to her empathic senses for an extended period of time almost always drained her of energy; but at the moment, she could hardly feel any drain at all. If it wasn't telekinesis, was it something magical, related to her Senshi abilities? But again, the same question presented itself - why didn't she feel as if she were expending any energy? In fact, if her theory about the tongue piercing was correct, then she ought to be MORE tired than normal, because she would only be able to store and use a minimal amount of energy-- "Miss Yaten?" Yaten snapped her head up, startled out of her reverie. Tegan shuffled his feet shyly. He was holding a battery-powered lamp in his hands. "Um, I noticed that it was getting awfully dim back here, and I wondered if you were able to read all right in the dark--" "No." Yaten shook her head, coldly. "No, Tegan. You need to go away now." "But--" "Just take the lamp and go away." Yaten didn't want to add, 'before I hurt you.' Not that she ever had any intention of hurting poor Tegan; it was just that, at the moment, she didn't trust herself to not randomly cause another head to explode. "All right," Tegan sighed, defeated. He slumped his shoulders forward and began to walk away slowly, sadly. A glass pane on the outer face of the lamp suddenly cracked. Tegan didn't notice as he continued to walk away, but Yaten did. A moment later, the lamp, too, flickered and died. Tegan blinked at the dead lamp in his hand. "What . . . ?" Yaten turned her attention back toward the book. There were . . . a few other points on her body that, when marked or pierced properly, would suppress her powers considerably. Like the insides of her wrists. And her earlobes. And the place where her upper arm joined her shoulder. Curiously, Yaten used her left fingers to lightly trace a pentagram pattern across her right shoulder. As she did so, the buzzing inside her head suddenly lowered several decibels. But the moment she finished the motion, it returned with a roaring vengeance. Yaten sighed. Pretending to draw markings with her fingers was terribly inadequate; she supposed she would have to make a permanent marking. Maybe it was a good idea to get a tattoo, after all. She could always call Solange, couldn't she? She *did* still have Solange's card . . . On the other side of the library, a row of fifty or so heavy hardbound books suddenly decided to slide off their shelf and fall crashing to the floor. "What in the world--?!" Yaten could hear the shouts of confusion and the pounding of feet rushing away from her, in the opposite direction, toward the corner of the library farthest from her. She sighed. "Who am I kidding?" she asked the silent bookshelves around her. She closed her book, set it down on the table, and stood up, walking away calmly. No less than ten minutes later, she had finished negotiating with the guards outside the outer entrance to the Queen's private chambers, and was pushing her way through the door. Kakyuu rushed forward to meet her. "Are you all right?" she asked hurriedly, although it was an empty question, they both sensed that Yaten was very much not all right. Kakyuu placed the palm of her hand across Yaten's forehead. "You're running a fever." "I know. The scary part is that I'm actually in perfect health. Too perfect." Kakyuu drew Yaten inward, closing the door behind her. "You're practically buzzing with energy. Have you been resting well today?" "No, I've actually been taxing myself, and quite a lot. But I just can't seem to tire myself out, no matter how hard I try." Without warning, one of the small but intricately carved jade statuettes that Kakyuu kept displayed on a nearby shelf suddenly flew across the room and smashed into the far wall, shattering into dozens of pieces. Yaten blushed, embarrassed. "Um, sorry about that." The Queen took one look at her, and *knew.* And, thankfully, remained calm and authoritative. Yaten was certain that anybody else would have panicked, being alone in a room with an out-of-control psi. "Follow me," Kakyuu commanded as she rushed toward her bedroom. "Quickly, now! There was something that Anya taught me - an exercise to help telekinetics regain control of their powers, if they ever lost control in the first place - ah, these should do nicely." She rummaged through yet another shelf of carvings and knickknacks, then turned and proudly held out three colorful ceramic balls, each about half the size of her palm. "They were gifts from the Empress of Vega Three," she explained. Yaten blinked. "And . . . what are they supposed to do?" "Nothing. They're just balls. It's you who are going to do the work." Kakyuu took a deep breath, meeting Yaten squarely in the eye. "I want you to look at the balls, and concentrate. Hard. Don't think about anything else, just the balls." "Oh. Okay." Yaten lowered her eyes and stared at the balls, not daring to blink. She held herself stiff and erect, and bit her lower lip as she concentrated, intensely. She forced herself to remain calm, to clear her mind of all thoughts, to focus every ounce of her mental energy on the three balls being held in front of her. Slowly, but surely, Yaten could feel the *something* that was roiling and lashing out inside of her mind being pulled inward, reshaped, confined, and then focused outward again. The balls suddenly lifted up, and hovered in the air above Kakyuu's hands. "Now make them dance," the Queen commanded. "Excuse me?" "Like a circus juggler. Make them fly in circles. But . . . not with your hands, of course." Yaten took a deep breath, and concentrated. Within moments, the balls began whirling in a circle. Kakyuu drew her hands away, and the balls continued to spin around each other in midair. Yaten chewed her lower lip. "But I still--" "Hush. Don't speak. Don't take your eyes off the balls. Whatever you do, don't think about anything but spinning those balls. Don't stop concentrating, not even for a moment. Just relax, but keep all of your attention focused on the balls." "Okay," Yaten said softly. Kakyuu placed her hand on Yaten's shoulder, and began gently steering her toward one of the outer rooms. "Don't take your eyes off the balls," she repeated sternly. "They'll follow you if you will them to do so." As the two slowly began to walk away, Yaten turned her head over her shoulder, and watched the whirling balls following behind her. Finally, Kakyuu pushed Yaten in front of a large, comfortable couch. "Sit here." Yaten sat, and said nothing. The balls lowered themselves, too, and continued spinning, hovering a dozen inches in front of her face. "Keep your concentration focused on the balls," Kakyuu said. "I'm going to call some people. Adella, and Melinda. And . . . Lord Abbot." The name sounded familiar to Yaten. "Is that the empath from the Assembly?" "You testified before him--" "In front of the Sol Report Subcommittee. I remember." "And Fighter and Maker. I'll call them, too." "What am I supposed to do?" "Sit there, and stare at the balls. We'll try to figure something out." "Right." The balls in front of Yaten whirled, and whirled, and whirled. ******************** No less than fifteen minutes later, the entire group had assembled in the Queen's parlor for an emergency meeting - which, granted, was sort of becoming the norm these days. Fighter and Maker were transformed, as per the Queen's orders, and were hurriedly whispering to Adella and Melinda about something or another of terrible, immediate importance. Lord Abbot, the elderly, dignified Assembly member, was standing behind the couch were Yaten was still sitting, breathing quickly and shallowly, forcing herself to look at nothing but the whirling balls in front of her, forcing herself to think of nothing but how to keep them spinning and levitating in midair. Yaten couldn't hear what Fighter and Maker were whispering to Melinda and Adella about, but from the corner of her eye, she could see their tense bodies, worried faces, and clenched fists. They were having an argument. Why had the Queen ordered them to come transformed? Oh, right. Because she was an out-of- control telekinetic, that's why. And since she had just received a rather large does of Veridine Blue the day before, and the drug was known to cause psychotropic side effects, it was unsafe to give her another dose within such a short period of time. Yaten understood Kakyuu's position, and realized grimly that if she were in the same situation, she would make the same call. If Yaten lost control of her powers again, and became a danger to anybody in the room . . . then a Star Serious Laser or a Star Gentle Uterus would be the safest, quickest way to knock her out. From the looks on their faces, however, neither Fighter nor Maker was very comfortable with the situation. Abbot placed his warm, gentle hands against Yaten's temples. "Don't panic, dear, but I'm going to probe your mind and see if I can come up with any useful information." "Oh. Okay." Yaten submitted to his request, not because she actually agreed with his methods, but because she knew that she had no other choice. She felt like a small child, being examined in such a way by a man who was supposedly much older, wiser, and more experienced than she was. She resented the feeling, even though a small part of her acknowledged that it was partially the truth. She was undeniably a more powerful empath than Lord Abbot, but at the moment, she couldn't afford to break her concentration on the balls and use any of her empathic powers to examine herself. Lord Abbot closed his eyes, and concentrated. Kakyuu hovered nearby, trying to hide her nervousness. After a moment, Abbot opened his eyes again. "Oh, dear," he gasped softly. Yaten fidgeted nervously. "What's wrong?" Instead of answering her directly, Abbot turned his head and addressed the Queen. "This child has broken down her own biological failsafes," he began gravely. "By my estimation, based on a preliminary empathic scan of her mind, she should not even begin to experience telekinetic episodes until she is well into her late twenties. At only seventeen years old, access to this sort of power is impossible for her to control." "But why did those failsafes break down?" Maker interrupted, fighting to hide the worry in her voice. "That's the other unusual thing I noticed," Abbot continued calmly. "At this very moment, Miss Yaten's body is storing and channeling a tremendous amount of energy, far more than any girl her age - Sailor Senshi or not - should be able to contain." "So that's it," Fighter muttered to herself. "I thought I felt something funny when I walked into this room." "My best hypothesis is that the abnormally high energy levels in Miss Yaten's body caused the accidental breakdown of her natural psi blocks," Abbot said. "If we could find a way to lower her energy level back to normal, her mental blocks would naturally reconstruct themselves, and we wouldn't have any more problems." "But where did she get so much energy in the first place?" Yaten shrugged, still staring at her whirling balls. "Beats me." "That's the other problem," Abbot tried to explain. "Miss Yaten is expending energy at an accelerated rate - observe the whirling balls, something that would exhaust a normal telekinetic psi after only a few minutes - but her energy level isn't lowering at all. In fact, it's steadily increasing." "So she must be tapped into an external source," Maker concluded. "That's news to me," Yaten grumbled. "If she did somehow manage to tap into an external source of energy," Adella mused, "and not know about it, then it must have been done accidentally." "That's quite an accident," Melinda retorted skeptically. Lord Abbot's hands were already gentling dancing across Yaten's temples again. "I think . . . Yes, here it is . . . I feel it very strongly . . . A flow of energy. One way. Very strong. Miss Yaten is draining from someone, or something." He closed his eyes, and his brow furrowed with concentration. "I can't . . . I can't break the link . . . It's too strong." Yaten fought to keep her concentration focused on the balls. "Can you follow the energy flow back to its source?" she asked him. "I'll try." He frowned, concentrating. And, after a moment, opened his eyes again. "I've followed it, but I think I've run into a dimensional wall . . . It goes through the wall, but . . . I can't follow it . . . I'm running my probes along the wall . . . It's very weak here, in this immediate vicinity, but very strong around all the other edges . . . It stretches out very far . . . " He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Forgive me. I've tired myself out." "A dimensional wall?" Kakyuu repeated quietly. "A boundary between this world and another dimension," Maker explained. "Whatever energy source Yaten's tapped into, it's big, and it's not of our world." Fighter cocked her head. "Lord Abbot, did you say that the wall was weaker here, as in, like, right here, in this room, in this palace?" "Yes." In unison, Fighter and Maker both swore angrily. "Shimatta." A moment later, Yaten's eyes widened, as she suddenly began to understand the implications. "Oh, no way . . . It must have happened yesterday . . . " "What? Do you know what this is all about?" Melinda growled impatiently. "It's Malathos," Fighter said quickly. "WHAT?!" "Malathos resides in a created dimensional pocket," Maker began explaining hurriedly, "which sort of has a physical location in our dimension, where the walls between the two worlds are weaker. We decided that the weakest point of separation between our plane and Malathos's realm is within this very palace, right? And yesterday, from her own description of the events, it sounds as if Yaten was somehow . . . connected . . . to Malathos, but--" "But I *broke* that link," Yaten interjected defensively. "No, apparently you didn't," Maker snapped in retort. "Her energy level is still rising," Lord Abbot stated calmly, clearly. "If something is not done to curb the flow of energy right away, this poor girl may burn herself up." "We have to break the link between them," Adella asserted rationally. "That's the solution, isn't it?" There was a moment of silence, as seven pairs of worried eyes searched across a sea of hopeless faces. "I'm not strong enough to break the link," Lord Abbot demurred apologetically. Kakyuu closed her eyes. "I can't even *feel* the link. All I can sense is the buildup of energy in Yaten's body." Fighter fidgeted uncomfortably. "I can't feel, or see, the link either." She turned her head hopefully toward her partner. "Maker . . .?" Maker shook her head, slowly, sadly. "No. I can't either. It would require a very sensitive empath to find the link, and a very strong one to break it." And then, all eyes turned toward one person. There was a moment of tense silence. Yaten sat still, staring at the whirling balls hovering in front of her. "If you're asking me to use my own empathic abilities to break the link," she began slowly, "it means I'm going to have to take my concentration off these balls of yours." Kakyuu lowered her head. "At this time, it is our only option." Then she raised her head again, her eyes flashing with determination. "All right. We'll do it. Fighter, Maker - stand ready. If there's even a hint of a problem, you know what you must do. Everybody else - stand back. Understood?" Yaten could hear the shuffling of feet as every person in the room took several steps away from her. Fighter and Maker, however, stood where they were. Even without using her empathic senses, Yaten could feel their fear and their nervousness. Yaten took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I'm ready. I'm trying it now, okay?" She closed her eyes. The balls suddenly dropped to the floor and rolled away from her. She turned her thoughts inward, and concentrated. Suddenly, it was as if she were at once trapped within a swarm of buzzing locusts and at the same time drowning in a sea of pulsing, flashing lights. The buzzing was back, and louder than ever; the glow of her own abnormally high energy level was bathing her mental senses in golden light. Now, if she could just follow that energy to its source . . . She stretched out her mental fingers, tentatively, hesitatingly, feeling around the edges of her own mind. There. A pulsing, throbbing flow of energy pouring into her body. She stretched herself further, groping along the edges of the energy flow. It was incorporeal, immaterial, and yet . . . she tried poking at it with her mind. It felt as solid as steel. Even worse, it was anchored firmly inside her brain. Could she break it? Sever it as if it were a rope, or snap it in two as if it were a metal rod? She was so full of energy at the moment, that it certainly couldn't hurt to try. Yaten bit her lip, and frowned with concentration. She wrapped her mental fingers around the energy flow, and began squeezing and tearing, pulling it apart with all her might. It began to bend underneath the pressure, but it would . . . not . . . break . . . It was no use. She might as well have been trying to snap a stainless steel in half rod with her own bare hands. Yaten's eyes flew open. "I can't break it," she sighed with resignation. One of the lamps in the room suddenly sputtered and died out. "Yaten, get the balls," Kakyuu commanded. "Now." Yaten sighed again, and mentally summoned the balls from wherever they were laying on the floor. They flew toward her, and resumed whirling and spinning as they levitated in front of her face. Melinda turned toward the Queen. "Well, now what are we going to do with her?" And Kakyuu, of course, turned toward Maker. "Any ideas?" Maker frowned, thinking carefully. (Why did everybody always depend upon *her* to think of the solutions to their problems? she wondered grumpily.) "I'm not sure. If we can't break the link, then our immediate concern is finding a way to drain her of her energy . . . " Maker's eyes suddenly widened with realization. "Of course! The Universal Theorem of Inverse Squares!" Fighter blinked. "What?" "The Universal Theorem of Inverse Squares states that all forces in the known universe decrease in power as you increase distance between objects being acted upon by the force. It applies to gravity, nuclear force, and electromagnetic force. To illustrate: The force of gravity between two objects is inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. But the same theory applies to magical forces, and to life energies. That's why it's a *universal* theorem." "You're going to send me away?!" Yaten had already jumped to the obvious conclusion. "But I--" "You said that Malathos was in a different dimension," Lord Abbot interjected calmly. "How, then, can he have a location within *this* dimension, from which Miss Yaten can be moved away from?" "The dimension of Malathos does have a physical location within this dimension," Adella explained. "Sort of. It's the point where the separation between the two dimensions is the weakest. It's within this very palace." "If we could increase the physical distance between Yaten and Malathos," Kakyuu mused aloud, "then the flow of energy between them would weaken to the point where it would be negligible. And if Yaten's energy level returns to normal, her biological failsafes will reconstruct themselves, and then--" "--No more telekinesis," Fighter finished. She was grinning. "That's absolutely, wonderfully perfect." "No it's not!" Yaten protested. "Why would you say that?!" She could feel the panic clenching in her chest. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep her concentration focused on the whirling balls. "Remember when you called me yesterday, and I said that we'd done more research on this Malathos thing?" "Oh . . . Yeah. I didn't really think about it. My mind was on other things." "I know," Maker said. "And in the confusion that followed, I guess *we* forgot to tell you about it." "Adella called me and told me about it, and I ran to tell Taiki," Fighter continued. Adella herself was quick to explain what she had found. "The Sailor Senshi of the planet Turan banished Malathos from our dimension hundreds of years ago. But instead of depending upon their own raw power to do so, they performed a very effective and precise ritual of white magic. Witchcraft, if you will. The ritual was little more than the recitation of a written spell, but it channeled, amplified, and controlled their powers so that Malathos was helpless before them. This spell, and many others like it, are recorded in an ancient and sacred text that is now displayed somewhere within the Sultan of Turan's personal history museum." "You mean . . . " Yaten struggled to keep her mind mostly focused on the spinning balls. "You mean, it's like a book?" "Yes, but . . . " "But?" "It hasn't been used or read since Malathos was banished. And that was hundreds of years ago. It was ancient and arcane even then; now, the historians say, the language that it was written in is long since dead and gone. Not even the current Sailor Turan can make any sense of it. It was written by a clan of magic-users who wandered as nomads throughout the galaxy thousands of years ago. They're all dead now. Their race is extinct." "It's like an encrypted code, almost," Maker continued, the excitement evident in her voice. She loved a good intellectual challenge, and this was the biggest one to come her way in years. "All we have to do is get the book, crack the code, figure out how to read it, and recite the spell." "And how exactly are we supposed to get our hands on the book?" "That's easy. We're going to Turan." "WHAT?!" The balls in front of Yaten suddenly dropped to the ground as she whirled to face Maker, her eyes flashing with anger. "That's three days of solid Subspace travel away from here! You expect us to *abandon* the Queen for that long while there's a dangerous enemy loose in the palace?! How can you even SUGGEST that we--" "Yaten," Kakyuu said sharply. Yaten fell silent, sullen. "It was *my* suggestion," the Queen continued. Yaten's eyes widened with disbelief. Kakyuu began speaking, calmly and coolly. "The political situation on Turan is highly unstable at the moment. There has been a falling out between the Sultan of Turan and his sister, who is the guardian Sailor Senshi of Turan. We're not sure what the cause of this conflict is, or whether it can be resolved without bloodshed or not. But we do know that the Sultan of Turan has spoken out vehemently against the Sailor Senshi of the galaxy, and wishes for the role of the Sailor Senshi to be . . . abolished. I know, he's a fool. The populace of Turan is sharply divided - half support the Sultan, while half support his sister. Melinda has contacted Sailor Turan, and she is eager to help us in any way that she can. Her brother, however, is more reluctant. He will not hand over the book unless he can meet with you three face to face, and negotiate some sort of deal. He wants something in return for the book. I have only the extravagant wealth of the royal family to offer him." A brief, small smile danced across her lips. "I do not expect the negotiations to be a problem. However, the fact remains that you three must be present to sit in front of him and make the final exchange. It is the condition that he has placed before us." "But . . . But the enemy has grown so bold and dangerous, that they're bound to take advantage of our absence. You're not safe--" "Yaten, it is precisely because of the enemy that I want you to leave. You three have become the targets of the enemy. Not me. I can't say for certain that I won't be in the future, but if I am, I will have the Knights to protect me, at least during your brief absence. I was thinking that it would be safer for all three of you to leave the planet for a short period of time, anyway. And this . . . this telekinesis problem . . . is the last justification I need. If nothing else, Yaten, you *must* be sent far away from this planet, until we can find a way to weaken and break the link between you and Malathos." Yaten lowered her head, and sighed. "As you wish. So . . . when are we leaving?" Another of the Queen's small jade statuettes suddenly flew across the room and smashed into the far wall. "First thing tomorrow morning," Kakyuu answered quickly. "Yaten, your balls. Now." "Right, right, right." Yaten plopped herself back down onto the couch and resumed spinning her balls. "Tomorrow morning?" Fighter repeated, uncertainly. "But, are you sure that you'll be all right--?" "The Queen has the Knights to protect her," Melinda reminded them sharply. Fighter stood quietly, saying nothing, fidgeting nervously. "You know," Yaten said suddenly, "If we're leaving tomorrow, I can't exactly sit here all night and stare at these wretched balls. Not only will I go mad from the boredom of it, but I need to pack for our trip, as well." "Then you must leave," Kakyuu agreed. "Fighter. Maker. Go with her to her quarters, and help her pack. Drain her energy if anything starts to go wrong. Yaten, take those balls with you. I'm going to let you stay alone tonight, but on the condition that you never stop those balls, understand? The last thing I want you to do is fall asleep tonight. You must try to stay active, try to expend your energy as much as possible, even during the night." "That's not a problem. I don't think that I *could* fall asleep, even if I wanted to." Yaten stood up, and the spinning balls floated upward, too, hovering near her shoulder and following her as she walked around the couch. She turned toward Fighter and Maker. "Are you coming with me, or what?" They exchanged glances with Kakyuu. Maker's expression was flat and unreadable, and her eyes sought only for permission to leave the room. Fighter, however, could not hide the fear and apprehension in her expression. She was worried, and uncertain about something. Kakyuu didn't know what about. She wanted, at that moment, more than anything, to embrace Fighter within her arms and whisper words of reassurance and comfort into her ear; if nothing else, she should at least have the time to listen to Fighter's worries, to try to figure out what was bothering her. Fighter's eyes reflected the same longing; she yearned for her Queen's gentle touch and soft voice. But Fighter needed the comfort and support that Kakyuu could not give her. There were travel arrangements to be made, negotiations to fulfill, accounts to balance, and duties to be attended to. Melinda was growing impatient, waiting to have a word alone with her Queen; Lord Abbot would want some sort of announcement to release to the Assembly, regarding the absence of the Senshi; there was so much to be done before their departure tomorrow, that Kakyuu could not afford to spare even a brief moment to be with the person that she loved. The Queen of Kinmoku lowered her eyes. "You are dismissed," she said softly. The three Senshi left, quietly. And Kakyuu began to attend to her official business. ******************** Leaving Yaten alone in her apartment had been hard enough; saying goodnight to Maker had been even harder. Now Fighter was alone, as she entered her own apartment and closed the door behind her, so distracted by her own disturbing thoughts that she did not realize that she had forgotten to shed her transformation. Fighter leaned against the door, closed her eyes, and sighed. She felt confused and uneasy, and she had only the faintest inkling why . . . It was because of what had happened to Taiki. And because of what had happened to Yaten. The people that she loved had been hurt, and worse, were still in danger. And she hadn't been able to do anything to help them. It was that, more than anything else, that stabbed deeply into Fighter's heart, tearing apart the fragile confidence and bravado that she had spent so much of the past year rebuilding. "I'm such a fool," Fighter whispered to herself, stewing with her black thoughts. Fighter's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock at the door. She whirled, paused for a moment, then closed her hand around the doorknob, twisting it and pulling the door open. Belinda stood in the doorway, still dressed in her street clothes, a canvas tote bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw Fighter. "Oh, Seiya, you're--!" "Huh?" Fighter looked down at herself. "Oh, right. Just give me a moment, and I can--" "No! I mean, please don't. I think you look the most beautiful when you're transformed." Belinda blushed, embarrassed by her outburst. "Um, are you going to let me in? You know, you never did get around to giving me that key you promised." "Oh, yeah. Um, I'm sorry." Feeling slightly awkward, Fighter stood aside, and Belinda strode right past her, marching into her apartment as if she owned the place. Fighter closed the door and followed her inside. "I just heard about everything," Belinda said as she sat the tote bag down onto a nearby table. "And when I heard that you were shipping off to Turan tomorrow, I just *had* to buy you a good luck gift." Belinda began rummaging through the bag. Suddenly she looked up, eyeing Fighter cautiously. "Hey . . . is something wrong? You're awfully quiet." "Nothing's wrong." "You're a horrible liar." Belinda abandoned the tote bag and approached Fighter. "Is something bugging you? Something IS bugging you, isn't it? Well, aren't you going to tell me about it?" "I . . . I . . ." "Oh, for Maresuu's sake, Fighter! You and I are friends, right? Because I'm your friend, you're supposed to tell me about your problems!" "Well . . . all right . . . " Fighter sighed reluctantly. "It's just that--" "Wait wait wait wait wait!" Belinda suddenly held out a hand, hushing Fighter. "We must do this properly. Confessions like these should be made while lying on a couch, like, " she turned her head and scanned the apartment with her eyes, "like the one over there. And I, the sympathetic listening ear, should sit on this chair across from the couch, right here." She walked over and plopped herself down on the chair. "Like so, see? It's all a matter of form." Fighter slowly approached the couch, then hesitantly laid down on her back across it, hands resting on her stomach. "Like this?" "Beautiful." Belinda produced a notepad and a pen in one hand, and crossed her legs, resting the notepad on her knee. Fighter wondered where she had found the notepad. "Now, miss Fighter, I want you to tell me everything that's bothering you, and I'm going to take just a few notes here and there, okay?" "Yes, Doctor Undari." Belinda giggled. "Don't be so silly!" "You started it." "No, I mean it. This is serious." "Right . . . I understand." Fighter took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts together in her head. A moment later, she began speaking. "Two nights ago, Taiki was attacked in her own bedroom. And yesterday, Yaten was attacked in her home. And they were both *hurt*. Hurt very badly. I don't quite understand how badly, but I do know that they're both still hurting. And I . . . I couldn't . . . I couldn't do anything, to prevent it from happening, to help them when it was over, to . . . I don't know. But I couldn't *do* anything about it. And that scares me, Bel. That scares me worse than anything. I mean, what good is all of this," she lifted a gloved hand off her stomach and gestured, indicating her entire body, her Sailor fuku, "if I can't even protect the friends that I love? And today Kakyuu actually told me to leave her, to leave this planet, and to leave her open and vulnerable to attack. Even if it's only for a few days, leaving this planet is the absolute last thing that I want to do. I've spent too much time wandering among distant stars; now that I'm finally home again, I want to stay home. It's selfish of me, I know. I'm probably a terrible person for thinking that way. I mean, I know that we don't have any choice, especially poor Yaten. But I still feel lousy about it, and I'm scared to death, too. If something . . . happens . . . to the Queen, while I'm gone . . . I'll . . . I'll never forgive myself . . . " Fighter trailed off into silence. Then she sighed. "Okay. That's it. I'm done." Belinda coughed. "Well," she said. She paused for a moment, searching for a place to begin. Then she began to speak, trying to make her voice sound soothing and calming. "You shouldn't worry about the Queen," she began. "We Knights can protect her. It's what we *do*. It's our job, you know. We'll keep her under constant watch, twenty four hours a day. You know that Melinda would never let the Queen come to any harm, don't you?" "Yeah." Fighter smile half-heartedly. "Yeah, I guess you're right." "And . . . And I know that what happened to Taiki and Yaten was awful, but . . . but you *can* do something about it. You already are. You're a great friend, Seiya - er, Fighter - and they know that they can count on you to love and support them when they need it the most. Isn't that right? But they're counting on you to stay strong and stay focused, because they'll need you to lead them when it comes time to fight the enemy. You know, both of them count on you as a source of strength and security." " . . . Really?" "Really." "How do you know that?" "I have a doctorate degree in psychology." "Really?" "No, not really." Belinda grinned. "But, like, I get these gut feelings about people. You know? I'm not empathic or anything, but I can tell a lot about a person, just by watching and observing them." Fighter turned her eyes toward the ceiling above her. "Hey, Bel . . . What happens if we lose?" "What do you mean?" "I don't know what exactly Malathos is planning, but let's assume, for argument's sake, that it's some sort of hostile takeover of the planet, okay? As Sailor Senshi, it's our job to defeat him and save the entire planet, right? But what happens if we lose to him?" She closed her eyes. "We've already failed this planet once. We couldn't protect anybody when it mattered most, not even our own Princess. I don't know what would become of us . . . if we failed again." Fighter kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, willing them not to tear up. She breathed deeply and quietly, trying to get her emotions under control, not daring to speak again, afraid that her voice would choke and betray her. Then she heard a rustle of movement, and soft, padded footsteps, as Belinda rose from her chair and approached the couch. Fighter sensed, rather than saw, Belinda kneeling beside her, reaching out to grasp her gloved hand in her own, lowering her lips to Fighter's ear and tickling the hair on her temples with her gentle breath. "That's not true," Belinda whispered softly into Fighter's ear. "Not a word of that is true. And don't you ever speak like that again in front of me, Sailor Star Fighter." She squeezed Fighter's hand in reprimand. "You did *not* fail this planet. While hundreds of Senshi around the galaxy fell to Galaxia's hands, you actually lived to fight another day. And because you survived, you were able to protect one lone soldier, Sailor Moon, saving her from Galaxia when it mattered the most. And because you could give her strength and protection, she defeated Chaos, and saved not just her own planet, and not just this planet, but the entirety of the galaxy. I read the Sol Report; I know that this is what's true. And so far, you've won every battle you've fought against the servants of Malathos. And now, you're only a few steps away from banishing him once and for all. You can't *afford* to wallow in self-pity right now. You just need to hang on a little bit longer, because, like, victory is almost within our grasp." Fighter opened her eyes, and found herself staring directly into Belinda's deep blue irises. Belinda's earnest, trusting, loving face hovered inches above Fighter's, and her hair fell down in tumbled soft locks around Fighter's face and shoulders. Without understanding exactly why she was doing so, Fighter reached out with her free hand, brushing her gloved fingertips against Belinda's cheek, smiling warmly as she did so. "Thank you," was all she could find the strength to say. "Hey, no problem." Belinda abruptly pulled her head back, settled down onto her kneeling knees, and untangled her fingers from Fighter's other hand. She cocked her head at Fighter, curiously. "Do you feel all better now?" "I feel a lot better. You're amazing, Bel." "Thanks. Shall I bill your credit card, or will you be paying in cash?" "Uh . . . what?" "Doctor Undari doesn't give out her services for free. A girl has to make a living, you know." Fighter chuckled softly, deciding to play along. "Well, I'm a little short on cash right now . . . " "I must exact my fee *somehow*. Here's a suggestion: instead of paying with money, will you answer some questions of mine that I've been dying to ask you? I am willing to consider your answers as fair payment for my services." "Fair enough." "All right then." Belinda's fingers danced along Fighter's bare stomach. Her fingertips were cold, and Fighter suppressed a surprised shiver at her touch. Belinda's fingers stopped when she reached the beaded belts that twisted around Fighter's stomach. She ran her fingers along the belts, then tugged at them, gently. "Okay," she said firmly, "time for the first question." "Fire away." Belinda tugged at Fighter's belts again. "Do these things come off?" "Well, yes. When I lose the transformation, they disappear." "No, no, I mean . . . without shedding your transformation. Could you take them off now?" "I don't know. I never tried removing them before. Or any part of the fuku, for that matter." Belinda ran the palm of her hand along the belts, even reaching underneath Fighter to feel around her back. "I can't find a buckle, or a tie, or any sort of fixture." She frowned. "Yeah, um, I guess they're stuck on me, you know? So they don't go flying off in the middle of a battle, or something . . . Hey--! Hey, what are you doing?!" Fighter gasped in protest. Belinda was tugging fiercely on Fighter's itty-bitty black leather shorts, trying in vain to pull them off. "Darn! These aren't coming off, either. It's almost like they're shaped to perfectly fit your body." "Bel--!" "What? I'm just curious, that's all." She raised her hands in the air, shrugging innocently. "I suppose I wouldn't be able to pull off your gloves or your boots, either. I always wondered if the fuku was designed to be removable or not. Now I know that it's not, so I'll quit trying to do ecchi things to you, okay? But you can still answer my second question - why *is* the fuku designed that way?" "I guess it's just more efficient, you know, if I'm in a battle situation, if my clothes can't come flying right off me. And it might offer some sort of protection, in case I'm ever attacked by a tentacle monster or anything." "Or attacked by an ecchi Knight," Belinda laughed. Then she ran her fingers lightly across Fighter's stomach again, her fingertips dancing across Fighter's bare skin. "Hey, Fighter . . . " Belinda's tone had changed; she suddenly sounded solemn, and serious. "Fighter, do you know that you're very, very beautiful?" Fighter suddenly felt herself blushing, and could feel a hot flush warming her skin. "Thank you," she mumbled uncomfortably, suddenly afraid to look Belinda in the eye, suddenly afraid to obey the overpowering urge to flinch away from Belinda's friendly touch. Fighter didn't understand *why* she was overcome by these strange emotions, but she suddenly wanted nothing more than to change the topic of their conversation to something else, anything else. Then Belinda quickly drew her hand away from Fighter. "I'm sorry. I've made you uncomfortable." She could feel the heat beneath Fighter's skin, and could sense the discomfort behind Fighter's mumblings. Fighter tried to avoid looking directly at Belinda, and began an intense study of the shadows on the ceiling above her. But out of the corner of her eye, she could see the confusion written all over Belinda's face. She knew what Belinda must have been thinking, too. Fighter wasn't *supposed* to be shy or uncomfortable about her body. It just wasn't her style. The fuku - and everything else about her - pointed toward the opposite. There was a moment of tense silence, neither girl willing to meet the other girl's gaze. Then, suddenly, Belinda stood up. "I almost forgot. I brought a present for you! Stay there, let me get it from my bag." She hopped away from the couch, apparently back to her cheerful self. While she was busy rummaging through her tote bag again, Fighter sat up on the couch, concentrated for a moment, and then felt her Sailor fuku melting back into her normal clothing. Belinda whirled back around, clutching a box wrapped in colorful paper to her chest. She took one look at Seiya's appearance, and shook her head, sighing with mock resignation. "Aw, phooey. Seiya, you ruined all my kinky fun." "Sorry." Belinda threw herself down onto the couch next to Seiya, and handed her the wrapped box. "Here you go. Open it." Seiya tore open the wrapping paper, and opened the box. "Oh, it's . . . it's . . . it's a pair of socks." Indeed it was, white socks with a pair of blue kittens embroidered on each ankle. "Not just *any* socks," Belinda chuckled as she elbowed Seiya, "these are special socks. The blue kittens are for good luck, see? And look, I've got a pair too!" Belinda swung her leg up onto the couch, rolled up the cuff of her pants, and revealed an identical sock on her foot. "They've always brought me good luck, whenever I wore them. I was wearing them the day that I met you, you know. Well, I mean, that wasn't a very *lucky* day or anything - it was a downright unlucky day, in fact - but I DID think that it was lucky that I met you, and that I had the opportunity to become your friend. So when you wear these, think of me, and think of our friendship, okay?" Seiya held the socks in her hand, momentarily unsure what to think or what to say. But then she felt Belinda's infectious grin spreading across her face, and a little bit of Belinda's good cheer and optimism warming her own heart. "Thanks, Bel," was all she could think of to say. "No problem." "No, I mean it. Really, really thanks." And then, Seiya surprised both herself and Belinda by encircling her arms around the petite Knight and pulling her into a fierce bear hug. "Thank you so much, for everything!" Belinda rested her head on Seiya's shoulder, relishing the warmth and love behind her embrace. "No problem," she repeated, softly, contentedly. ******************** The first thing Yaten did after Fighter and Maker left her alone in her own room was stir a tablespoon of salt into a cup of warm water, and then gulp down the mixture, swishing it around in her mouth and spitting it out as fast as she could. Icky. Yaten quickly threw aside her first glass and grabbed a clean one, filling it with water from the tap and gulping it down as fast as she could. Darn saltwater rinses. Solange had said that she would have to do it three times a day for the next two weeks, if she wanted to avoid infection in her tongue. <> Yaten slammed her glass down onto the countertop. "Oh, no you don't," she growled. "I am NOT going to start having clairvoyant visions. Not tonight." The balls whirled around the kitchen, spinning and twirling in increasingly elaborate patterns. Yaten was getting pretty good at controlling them, actually. And besides, it was kind of fun. But it was annoying, not being able to think much about anything else. And she had a long night ahead of her, during which she was not allowed to even think of falling asleep; the balls were quickly becoming boring. She needed to find a way to entertain herself. Sighing, Yaten trudged over toward her bathroom, allowing the spinning balls to follow her. She suddenly wanted very badly to brush her teeth. Before she did so, though, she examined herself carefully in the mirror, searching for signs of anything unusual or alarming in her face. Yep, she found something unusual all right. Her hair was starting to stand on end. It was rising slowly away from her face, and crackling with sparks of something that *might* have been static electricity . . . if she hadn't known any better. Yaten swore under her breath. She was channeling too much energy, and it was starting to affect her body. That, and the night was still young; her energy level would just continue to increase all night, and it wouldn't even begin to lower again until she was well on her way to the planet Turan tomorrow. Yaten closed her eyes, thinking hard, conjuring up a memory of the labeled image of the female body that she had studied in the library. Points of energy resistance . . . Oh, of course. The earlobes. But it all depended on the right marking, the right symbol . . . Yaten bolted from the bathroom, the balls flying after her. Earrings. She needed a new pair of earrings. But not just any earrings. She rummaged through her jewelry box, frowning with concentration. Which earrings would do the trick? If she put on the wrong type of earrings, she might accidentally *increase* her capacity to channel energy. And that would be a very, very bad thing. And then it came to her. Mirrors! No, no, no, that couldn't be right. Didn't Malathos *use* mirrors as the crossover points between their respective dimensions? Yes, that was because a mirror created a point in space where dimensional reality was weaker, thinner, and easier to penetrate. Yaten finally found the right pair of earrings. They were a pair of tiny silver mirrors, gilded with gold, that dangled from a pair of golden hoops. She clutched them tightly in her fist, heart pounding rapidly. Her hair was practically crackling with energy. She needed to do something soon, but she needed to be very careful to do it correctly. "Oh, good idea, brain," Yaten snarled sarcastically. "And how am I supposed to go about performing a blessing? I haven't even attended a church service in over ten years." "I don't do prayer." "No." Yaten closed her eyes, and sighed. She folded her hands together, the mirror earrings pressed between her palms, and began to pray, silently. Hey, Goddess? Are you there? It's me, Kou Yaten. Listen, I don't normally do this sort of thing, but I wouldn't ask for your help unless I really needed it, and, well, this time, I do. Please protect these earrings from evil. Yeah, I know that it sounds like a silly request, but then again, it's the only way that I have to save myself right now. It's all part and partial to some sort of ritualistic body marking that I don't understand and don't want to understand. But I need it, anyway. So would you protect these earrings for me? Thank you. Thank you ever so much. Oh, and while we're at it, there are probably a few things that I should say to you right now that I probably should have said *before* now, but I never really got around to it. Thank you for protecting Seiya, and Taiki, and the Princess, and me, from Galaxia. And thank you for letting me meet Minako-chan, because she's done something to my heart that I don't understand at all, but that makes me feel more wonderful inside than I've ever felt before. Please watch over my parents and my sister in Heaven. And please give us the strength to overcome this new enemy. Amen. Yaten took a deep, shuddering breath. "No, not too bad." Hands trembling, she removed the pair of earrings that she had been wearing, and then inserted the golden hoops with the hanging mirrors into her earlobes. Instantly, her hair fell back around her face, and she felt her energy level drop drastically. Yaten breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, what do you know? It worked." Although it wouldn’t hold for long, she knew with a grim certainty. Her energy level would still continue to increase, throughout the entire night. But it was a good temporary measure, at least. Yaten tapped her fingers against her lips. There was something that she was supposed to remember to do . . . Oh, yeah. She needed to write a note to Minako-chan. Yaten settled down at her desk, ignoring the balls hovering behind her, and then pulled out a pen and a piece of stationary. She began writing, in her neat, careful Japanese. Dear Minako-chan; I'm terribly sorry about this, but Seiya, Taiki, and I have to leave the planet on important business. If all goes well, we should return within a week or so. Take care until then, okay? I love you and I miss you. ~ Yaten Yaten slipped the note into an envelope, sealed it, and placed it neatly down on her desk. After a moment of concentration, the envelope was gone. With that taken care of, Yaten still had other business to attend to. For starters, she had to pack her things for tomorrow's trip. She was busily rummaging through her closet ten minutes later, when the telephone in her room suddenly rang. She rushed over to pick it up, the spinning balls bobbing along merrily behind her. "Hello?" "Yaten-chan!" Yaten started, the phone nearly slipping from her grasp. "M-M-Minako- chan?" "Hai!" Minako giggled. "The telephone is a metaphor, right?! Yaten-chan, you always have the most BRILLIANT ideas!" "Minako-chan, I--" "I know that you're busy, but I wanted to talk to you. I just got your note. So, where are you going, huh?" "Uh . . . Turan. It's a nearby planet. Only three days of Subspace travel each way." "Are you flying in a spaceship?!" Yaten sighed. "Yes, Minako-chan. We're flying in a spaceship." Minako squealed with delight. "Oh, that is just *too* cool! Are there going to be aliens on Turan?" "Well, yes, they are aliens compared to us . . . but they look just like us. We're practically the same species." "Is there a Sailor Turan?" "Yes. We're going to meet with her, in fact." "WOW! Yaten-chan, why do you sound so bored by all of this?! If it was ME flying off on a spaceship to a distant planet to meet alien Sailor Senshi and do all sorts of fun alien things, I would be totally excited!!!" "It's a *business* trip, Minako-chan, not a pleasure cruise." "Someday, when this is all over and you've defeated the enemy, will you take me on a trip in a spaceship?" Minako asked wistfully. "Of course. I'd love to." "Really?!" Yaten grinned, despite herself. "Really." "Promise?" "I promise." "YES!" Yaten could hear Minako bouncing up and down on her bed. "I have your promise, Yaten-chan, do don't you dare go back on it!" "I won't. But I have to go now, Minako-chan. I have a lot to do before we leave tomorrow morning." "I got it. I'll see you soon, okay?" "I'm looking forward to it." "Ja ne, Yaten-chan." "Bye-bye, Minako-chan." With a click, Yaten hung up the phone. She placed the receiver back into its cradle, and <> turned away from the phone, returning to her closet. "I am sooo not listening to you anymore, brain," she muttered sourly, as she resumed choosing her outfits for the trip. ******************** Taiki was busy packing her clothing, having already sent Hideaki back to his old apartment after a hurried goodnight kiss. He had protested, not wanting to leave her alone, not after the terrible events of two nights ago. "I can take care of myself just fine without you," she had admonished him. "I need to be alone tonight." "Are you sure?" "Hideaki, don't patronize me." He had reached out to touch her, meaning only to comfort her; but she had flinched back, quivering, sudden and inexplicable fear clouding her eyes. He sucked in his breath, sharply, pulling back his hand quickly. "Taiki, I--" "I'll be fine. I'll miss you. But you should go away now." He had left, uncertainty and worry written all over his face. Taiki sighed, her short term memory unconsciously erasing her moment of flinching, of recoil. She was thinking only, forlornly, of their last kiss. There was a quiet, gentle knock at her door. And, before Taiki could answer, the click of a key rotating in the lock. Oh, of course. Only one person on the planet was allowed to enter Taiki's home without her explicit permission. Kakyuu pushed open the door and stepped carefully into the apartment. Taiki was waiting to greet her. It took her only one moment to read the expression on Kakyuu's pale face. "Oh, no, now what's wrong?!" "This." Kakyuu held out something in her hand. It was a burned-out light bulb. "I pulled it from the lamp in my parlor that went out when Yaten lost control of herself during our meeting," she explained quickly. "I wanted to show it to you, before I showed it to anybody else. I'm not an expert in these things, so I want your confirmation before I jump to any . . . conclusions." "What is it?" "I've seen Yaten's telekinetic powers at work," Kakyuu said, obviously struggling to keep her voice level. "I saw her lift up small objects and send them flying across the room; and we all saw what she did with the balls. What she's still doing with the balls. Which is why, when I saw the light bulb die out, I was confused. I wasn't sure how she could do something like that. I mean, telekinetics *move* things with their minds, right? I wasn't sure how she could make the light bulb go out. But then I thought, oh, she must have snapped the tungsten filament, that would explain it. Adella told me later that she was probably causing all of the light bulbs in the library to burn out, too. But very quietly, and very suddenly. It didn't make sense. Until . . . Until I unscrewed this light bulb, and I looked at it carefully." She thrust it out in front of Taiki's face, as close to panic as Taiki had ever seen her before. "See? See?!" Taiki squinted at the light bulb, examining it carefully. She couldn't determine whether the tungsten filament was snapped or not. Because there *was* no more tungsten filament. Just a light ring of ash . . . and small, neat little scorch marks, around the base of the light bulb . . . She pulled her head away, sharply, suddenly. Because she understood now why the Queen was so agitated. "No . . . That's impossible . . . " "Tungsten," Kakyuu continued slowly, breathing deeply, fighting to control herself, "can withstand temperatures up to four thousand five hundred degrees Fahrenheit. In order to instantly vaporize the filament - which is what actually happened within this light bulb - the temperature would had to have risen to at least five thousand degrees Fahrenheit. The flame would have been so brief, that no human eye would have detected it. And the heat would have to have been very concentrated, or else the rest of the glass bulb would have been affected, too. As it was, only the base of the bulb was scorched." Taiki closed her eyes for a moment, wondering if it would have been appropriate to say a quick prayer to the Goddess. But, instead, she forced to herself to utter the word which even her Queen could not bring herself to say. "Pyrokinesis." Kakyuu's hands trembled, and she clutched the light bulb tightly. "So, that's it, then. You and I agree." "Pyrokinesis," Taiki repeated coldly, tasting the word in her mouth. It tasted bitter, nasty. Pyrokinesis was the ability to somehow generate heat within an object until it actually caught itself on fire; elementary science taught that any material in the known universe will burn if it is hot enough, and pyrokinesis was simply the ability to raise a material's temperature to its burning point. It was one of the three forbidden psi talents. Taiki could remember the names of very few pyrokinetics in the history of the galaxy; almost all of their lives had ended in some sort of fiery, tragic death. There had never been a confirmed pyrokinetic from Kinmoku before. Taiki shook her head, suddenly desperate to disprove the Queen's hypothesis. "But that doesn't make sense - you're suggesting an almost instantaneous generation of more than forty-five hundred degrees Fahrenheit, while at the same time being confined and controlled to affect only the miniscule amount of space around that filament--" "Pyrokinetics can control the physical area of the heat reaction--" "Yes, but there's simply no way that Yaten could have exhibited that fine a degree of control and still remained unaware of it--" "I'll have to notify the Hocksetter Institute," Kakyuu breathed, her voice trembling. "They're going to have to test her. If she tests positive, they'll have to contain and confine her--" "No!" Taiki hissed fiercely, grasping Kakyuu's hands in hers. "You can't do that! They'll take her away from us!" "She needs professional help. *We* need to find a way to--" "--To control her power. That's exactly what we've already done. You saw that as long as she was spinning those balls, she was fine. And by this time tomorrow, she'll be hundreds of light-years away from here, her energy will have drained back to normal, her mental blocks will have rebuilt themselves, and she'll . . . be . . . fine." "Taiki . . . " Kakyuu trembled. "Taiki, royal protocol is very strict on these issues. A possible pyrokinetic, or even a person with the remotest possibility of becoming a pyrokinetic, is cause for me to declare a code Red emergency state. Evacuate the palace. Send soldiers, and doctors, to incapacitate her. Use straightjackets and Veridine Blue, if need be." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to continue. "The last confirmed pyrokinetic in the galaxy surfaced on Altair Three over two hundred years ago. The day that she discovered her powers, she accidentally set a flower bush on fire. She was sent to a hospital for testing. Not more than four hours later, she vaporized herself, her family, and an entire hospital full of patients, doctors, and nurses in one split-second of superheated flame. There was nothing but bone and ashes left. The whole thing took only two seconds to burn." "But Yaten is under control. You saw to that personally. And by tomorrow, she won't be a danger anymore." "By tomorrow! That's more than just a four hour time frame, isn't it? And her level of energy is still increasing. Worst of all is the fact that we have no idea what triggers these pyrokinetic outbursts, or how strong they are - or could become. If something *does* happen, we'll be in the afterlife before we even know what hit us--" "No. You *can't* call the guards, or the Hocksetter Institute. You can't tell anybody. If the press gets wind of this, it will be the end of us. And listen, I know that the Hocksetter Institute is supposed to be the safest, most comfortable psi ward in the galaxy, but I've heard nothing but bad things about them from the inside. They'll turn her into some sort of lab rat, or something. They'll never let us see her again. We can't put Yaten through that. Especially when we're so close to solving the problem in the first place." Truth be told, Taiki was struggling to keep her own voice calm. Lord Abbot had said that the mental blocks within a psi's mind were never supposed to break down unless the individual was fully capable of controlling their powers; well, that wasn't entirely true. No psi had ever successfully controlled any of the forbidden talents, a fact which rendered them a danger to themselves and to all those around them. It remained a complete and utter mystery why these powers ever manifested themselves in the first place. The Hocksetter Institute, the largest and most powerful psi ward in the galaxy, was currently undergoing intensive research in order to solve that mystery. But to do that, they needed test subjects. For thousands of years, intergalactic law had been very strict about forbidden talents in psi. The moment that the remotest possibility of such a talent surfaced, the individual was to be turned over to the Hocksetter Institute without delay. Failure to do so was an intergalactic felony of the first degree. By asking Kakyuu to keep Yaten's pyrokinesis a secret, Taiki knew that she was putting her Queen in a position where she could lose her throne, and possibly even her life, if the truth ever leaked out. But she knew, looking into her Queen's eyes, that they had both reached the same decision. The rumors about the unethical practices at the Hocksetter Institute were enough to send shivers down anybody's spine; so, too, was the mere fact that they would simply never see Yaten again. Such a possibility was unthinkable. "You're right." Kakyuu's breathing began to slow down, and slowly, her hands stopped trembling. "You're right. I won't tell anyone about this. But . . . " Her eyes grew steely, fierce. "But I must make the right decision, and I must keep the safety of my people, and of my planet, a priority. Listen to me, Kou Taiki, and listen good. This is the one order that I'm *not* going to back down on. You take Yaten to Turan, and do everything within your power to try to break the link between her and Malathos. If our theories are correct, and the link itself will be stretched so thin that its strength will be negligible, then it should be easy to sever it quickly and effectively. If, however, that proves not to be the case . . . If the link cannot be severed by the time you and Seiya have acquired the sacred book and are ready to return to Kinmoku . . . Then you must not, under any circumstances, allow Yaten to return to this planet." Taiki sucked in her breath sharply. "What?!" "While on Turan, the physical distance between Yaten and Malathos will ensure that practically no energy can flow between them, and that Yaten cannot have access to any telekinetic or pyrokinetic powers. She's *safe* there, as long as she's far away from here. But if the link between the two cannot actually be broken, then . . . if she should return here, we would be facing the same dangers all over again. Our only option is to leave her on Turan. I don't like it, but if we have to face the final battle against Malathos without Healer at our side, then so be it. We can use the book, banish Malathos, and then this planet will be safe for her to return to. Or, even better, if we could *kill* Malathos once and for all, then the danger would be removed forever . . . Although I do not think that we can achieve that goal." "But-- But--" "This is only a worse case scenario. And, at the very worst, we simply use the book to banish Malathos as soon as possible after your return, then quickly run back to Turan and bring Yaten home." Taiki hung her head. "I . . . I understand." "Very well." The Queen said this brusquely, a little coldly. Taiki could see in her eyes that Kakyuu was shaken to her core, and terrified about the horrible future that might be in store for someone that she cared very deeply about; but she was the Queen, and she had to make the right decision. She had already shed all outward signs of her fear, and her insecurity. She had settled back into the calm, authoritative mode that commanded the utmost respect and obedience from Taiki. "I'm going to inform Seiya of this immediately," she said, backing a step away from Taiki and beginning to turn around, to face the doorway. "Neither of you are to tell Yaten about this until the moment of decision, when you are ready to leave Turan." "She's not going to like that." "If she resists, neutralize her." Then the Queen winced at the sound of her own words. "I know that you can do it without seriously hurting her," Kakyuu added, trying to soften her command. "I'll write down everything in a letter, and seal it tonight. I'll give it to you tomorrow morning. If you must leave Yaten behind, give the letter to either the Sultan or to Sailor Turan as a means of explanation. It will not, however, mention pyrokinesis. Only telekinesis. As of tomorrow morning, there will only be three beings in the galaxy that know about Yaten's pyrokinetic abilities. You, me, and Seiya. And it will stay that way, understood? Yaten herself must never be told. She might panic, and . . . and lose control of herself." "Yes." Taiki handed the light bulb back to Kakyuu. "Go speak to Seiya. She must know about this." "I will." Kakyuu hurried away, and out the door. Taiki stood alone, a lump of worry forming in her throat. When this was all over, when the link between Malathos and Yaten was finally severed, and those mental failsafes could rebuild themselves . . . What then? Lord Abbot had said that the blocks to Yaten's telekinetic powers would naturally break down by the time she was in her late twenties. Did the same thing apply to her pyrokinetic powers?! Had Lord Abbot even sensed her pyrokinetic abilities, and chosen not to say anything? Or had he missed them completely? Was Taiki safe in making the assumption that the blocks guarding Yaten's pyrokinesis were meant to be more permanent, and were never intended to break down in the future? Taiki *did* pray to the Goddess, then. She prayed that after all was said and done, the mental blocks that sealed off Yaten's pyrokinetic abilities remained permanent and unbreakable, during the entire span of Yaten's long, long life. ******************** No less than five minutes after Belinda had left Seiya's apartment, Kakyuu had entered, more calm and collected than she had been when she had first called upon Taiki. But Seiya could read the worry on her face, as clear as day. "What's wrong?" And Kakyuu told her. When she was finished with everything - explaining the light bulb, repeating her decision to keep quiet about the affair, but also repeating her final order to leave Yaten behind on Turan if their worst fears proved true - Seiya's legs wobbled underneath her, and she sank down onto her couch, mumbling apologetically, "I'm sorry, but I need to sit down." Kakyuu sat down beside her. "Seiya, I . . . I didn't mean to frighten you. But you must be aware of this." "I'm not scared . . . Well, no, I am a little bit scared. Maybe more than a little bit. But mostly I'm just . . . I don't know. Shocked. Surprised." Her face was very pale. Kakyuu looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. Slowly, hesitantly, Kakyuu reached out and rested her hand on Seiya's thigh. "Seiya, I'm so sorry. About all of this. I'd rather sell my soul to the Devil than have to send you away from me; but I . . . I don't have any choice." Seiya turned toward Kakyuu, a small, sad smile on her face. "Don't worry about that. You've made the right choice. But I *am* going to miss you terribly." "I'll miss you, too. More than you can imagine." "Oh, I can imagine all right." Seiya turned herself halfway around, leaning forward, reaching out with her hand, gently running her fingers through Kakyuu's ruby-red hair. "I'm going to miss your hair . . . and your eyes . . . and your voice . . . and your hands . . . and your face . . . " Her fingers gently traced across Kakyuu's flushed cheek, resting lightly on her full, soft lips. "And your . . . your . . . " She lowered her fingers, and leaned forward slowly. Kakyuu closed her eyes, tense with anticipation, feeling a hot blush covering her entire body. They kissed. Briefly, gently, lip on lip. Then Seiya pulled away, blushing bright crimson, a mixture of arousal, confusion, and guilt flickering across her face. Kakyuu could understand her feelings, though. It was insane, it was ludicrous, how quickly and thoroughly they became aroused in each other's presence, like this; but it was also shameful, thinking only of pleasuring each other when someone that they both loved was in danger, and when so many worrisome problems dangled menacingly over their heads. Seiya lowered her eyes, her face redder than Kakyuu had ever seen it before. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I guess that was sort of inappropriate." "No, it wasn't. It was just what you and I needed. I'll think of that kiss, and of you, every day that you're gone. And you do the same for me, okay?" "I love you, Kakyuu," Seiya blurted out. "I love you too, Seiya. But forgive me, please. I must leave. Before I do something that I will regret later. We already have one dangerous secret to keep between us. Two would be too many to handle at one time." She rose from the couch, quickly, half of her wanting to stay by Seiya's side more than anything in the world, half of her screaming at her to hurry up and leave while she still could. "Good night, Seiya." "Good night, Kakyuu." Kakyuu left, hurrying back to her own living quarters. She paced through the hallways of the palace, as quickly as she could without compromising her regal posture. She remembered the long, dark, lonely nights when she had been fifteen years old, fantasizing guiltily about touching Seiya's small, soft breasts and running her fingers along her smooth, firm, naked legs. She remembered waking in the middle of the night, hot and sweaty and entangled in her bedsheets, jarred from a vivid dream in which she had been doing just that. It had been terrifying at first, utterly confusing and terrifying. She wasn't *supposed* to feel that way about another girl, let alone one who was her close friend. But the feelings, the mental images, the fantasies, had never taken their leave of her, no matter how much she tried to ignore them. She had eventually learned to suppress them, to bottle them up and bury them deep inside of her, like she did to most of the rest of her emotions, anyway. But now . . . in these few days since their confessions in the hospital . . . everything was rising to the surface again, and uncontrollably so. At a time when she could least afford to lose control of her emotions, Kakyuu found herself doing just that. she groaned mentally. She took a deep breath. She had arrived back at her living quarters. Guards were waiting for her outside of the outer doors. They would notice if she was distressed or beside herself. She remained calm, graceful, and regal as she greeted the guards and passed through the outer doors. There was a long night ahead of her, and she still had work to do. - end part eleven -