Prologue - Donnae Mysteriarum "...all of life is only a little, no long-term plans are allowed. Soon night and half-remembered shapes and drab Pluto's walls will be closing in..." - Horace, Odes I-4 "Isn't it a beautiful evening?", the woman asked her companion, looking up into his face and snuggling closer under his arm. "Yes", agreed the serious-faced man, "but not as beautiful as you." They both laughed at his corny remark, her laugh a high-pitched giggle, his a throaty chuckle. She always thought he looked especially handsome when he smiled, which is one of the reasons she always tried so hard to get him to open up. He was a tall man, slim-waisted, with broad shoulders hinting at a latent strength. His face had an almost hard, predatory look about it, softened only by crinkling eyes and boyish features. She was small, slender, and exuberant, a bubbly contrast to his sobriety. Her beauty was remarkable, and was covertly watched by many of the young men passing by the couple. She herself was oblivious to her looks, as she was always focused outwards, not inwards. It certainly was a beautiful evening. It was a calm Saturday night at the end of September. The leaves were turning, their riotous splendour framing the placidly rippling lake at their feet, their garish colours matching the burnished hues of the rapidly sinking sun. A gentle breeze wafted the faintly intoxicating smell of wood smoke towards the couple. Venus hung brightly in the sky, shining its brilliance in defiance of the dying sun. Discreetly placed benches dotted the shoreline. The couple walked to the nearest, and sat down. They sat there, huddled, in a long, companiable silence, watching the sunset. To outside observers, they seemed to contain paradoxical traits; the easy familiarity of a long-married couple, and the passionate intensity of newlyweds. In that purple twilight just after the sun dropped beneath the horizon, a faint star-like object popped into view, as if the sun was a veil behind which it was hiding. "There!", exclaimed the woman, pointing at it. "Mercury's finally appeared!" "Yes, it looks like they're all here", the man agreed. He swept his free arm across the horizon in a controlled motion. "Starlike Saturn, brilliant Jupiter, flaming Mars," here he allowed himself a chuckle, "shining Venus and tiny Mercury, all in the sky at the same time." "It's breathtaking", she said. "Do you think it means anything?" "It's certainly propitious", he remarked. "But I'm waiting for something more special." "What?" He remained silent. After a few minutes, she tried again. "What are you waiting for?" He finally acknowledged her. "That", he replied, pointing to the rising moon. "A famous Greek poet, Sappho, stated my heart's desire: 'Awed by her brightness, stars near the beautiful moon cover their own shining faces when she lights earth with her silver brilliance of love'". He fell quiet, regarding her. He noticed how she beamed radiantly up at him, the moonlight silvering her hair in a gloriously cascading halo. It was time. As she snuggled closer, he clasped her in the tenderest hug he could give, kissing her hair, eyelids, and throat, before they locked their lips in a passionate kiss. When he released her, her skin was flushed, and her eyes excitedly expectant. He caught on to her mood quickly. "I know a perfect way to end this night", he stated. He took her hands with his, and, with a sure touch, gently led her into the darkness. And the circle of life begins again. * * * She woke suddenly, gasping, sitting bolt upright in her bed. The moon, high in the night sky, gleamed harshly between the shutters, bathing the room and her features in an eerie light. She glanced at the bedside alarm, and noticed the time - two o'clock. Her long, tousled hair was damp from perspiration, and her night clothes were drenched in sweat. Forcibly controlling her breathing, she cast her mind about to figure the cause of her awakening. Again, like nausea, it hit her. She was out of bed in a flash, staggering to the bathroom, brushing on the light as she went by. Just as suddenly, the pain in her stomach stopped. She sank to her knees, and let out her breath in an explosive whoosh. As she knelt there, trembling, she realized the cause of her distress - IT had happened. The one event she had dreaded her whole life had happened, and there was no turning back from it now. She took a few minutes to calm herself down, and then went into the kitchen to make a soothing cup of tea. Thirty minutes later she stood at her post, dressed in the uniform of her office. Her demeanour was calm and collected, as she focused on the task at hand. She analyzed the data dispassionately, her brain calculating the different permutations. Not liking the results, she double- and triple-checked her work. It only served to confirm her fears. The singularity, that most distrusted result in the branches of mathematics and physics, was unavoidable. She was frightened, there was no avoiding that. For the first time in her life she felt the clutching dread of mortality. The path she had to follow was laid out for her, and the sacrifice she had long ago agreed to make was near. With that realization, a lifetime of restraint finally let loose, and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing. When dawn came, it found her huddled in a corner, hands clasped about her knees, while she slept a fitful sleep, her staff hugged tightly to her body... Lightning Crashes A story of Sailor Moon by John Hitchens DISCLAIMER: This story deals with mature situations, adult themes, and contains some disturbing scenes. Not recommended for young readers. Author's notes and credits at the end. Dedicated to my wife, Carlene, a mother three times over, who indulges my passion for Sailor Moon, and puts up with looking at the back of my head for evenings at a time. Chapter 1 - Regina Lunae "...the woman, and the rose: these are Good, absolute Goods: on that I stake my salvation." - E.R. Eddison "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." - St. John 15:13 There are moments of seemingly commonplace insignificance that change the course of the world. When Sir Isaac Newton lunched under an apple tree, the action of gravity on the overripe fruit triggered a thought in his brain that lead to a revolution in science, and ultimately to the creation of the atomic bomb. Siddartha Gautama's enchanted dream underneath the banyan tree transformed a society. Such an event was happening now, in Tokyo. Tokyo, that teeming metropolis of some twenty million souls perched on the edge of the Pacific Ocean, staring unblinking across the empty expanse of ten thousand miles of water directly into the rising sun. A city of noise and bustle, the inhabitants squeezed claustrophobically close to each other, necessitating the exaggerated emphasis on politeness practised by its citizens. A city of commerce and recreation, busy days and bustling nights, American culture and ancient tradition, the thousand and one articles of daily life, and of life and death. Life and death were common themes in Juuban General Hospital. It was a grey, featureless hospital, like any other, plumped down into an overpopulated middle-class suburb of the giant city. Although it was only the end of June, the sweltering heat of the afternoon strained the air conditioners to their utmost, and frayed the tempers of an already overworked staff. In a hospital room, a young doctor pushed a damp, rebellious bluish-black bang from her forehead, and wiped away a trickle of sweat, accumulated from the heat generated by the room's intense lighting. "Go get Mizuno-sensei, please", she said, directing her comment to an orderly in the room. "The patient is ready for delivery." "At once, Mizuno-sensei", he replied, ducking through the curtained doorway of the operating room, his footsteps receding rapidly down the tiled hallway. She turned back to regard the blonde-haired girl panting on the bed. One part of her scientific mind clinically analyzed the medical situation unfolding. Although repeated exposures to deliveries had familiarized her with the birth process so as to make them routine, she knew that every birth was different, and full of surprises. It was one of the miracles of life, and made up part of the reason she had chosen to be a obstetrician/pediatrician. The other reason for her choice of careers briskly entered the room. She was a lady of medium height, petite and slender, with short black hair. She seemed in her early forties, still pretty, with the unmistakeable aura of authority that experts in their fields all seem to possess. "I think we're ready, mama", the young doctor said to the new arrival. "Thank you, Ami", responded the elder Mizuno. "Remember, I'm just here to watch this time. This is your responsibility today." "Hai, mama", she replied. She glanced at the tall, dark-haired man with the grave face and serious eyes. "Hang in there Mamoru-san. We're ready for the final push." She grinned to herself at the pun. "Okay Usagi-chan", she told the now groaning woman, "you can push now. The baby's coming." While she and her mother went almost mechanically about their duties, the other part of her mind drifted off into remembrance of the events leading to this path. Usagi had been her first friend when she had transferred to Juuban Junior High. The other students had all avoided her for her reputation as a socially challenged genius. Usagi's warm heart decided to disregard those judgements, and after an initial awkwardness, Usagi had taken to Ami almost immediately. It was soon after that they uncovered Ami's secret identity as Sailor Mercury, and Usagi had been revealed as Sailor Moon. Through the battles they faced together, Ami was brought into a circle of friends and warriors she otherwise would never have known. This lifeline offered to her had sealed, in Ami's mind at least, a friendship to Usagi that was more than she could ever repay, and made her oath of service to the Moon Princess a glad burden to bear. She glanced warmly at Usagi's husband, Mamoru. He was a hunk, she thought; there was no other way to describe him. Tall, with a model's slender good looks, there was a reserved aloofness in his posture that melted with a crinkle of his eye. At least five years older than Usagi and herself, he had first been introduced as the college student who Usagi kept running into, and who teased her with the name odango-atama. They had needed a lot of help fighting monsters in the early days, and received it quite often from a dashing hero called Tuxedo Kamen. He later turned out to be Mamoru, the reborn prince of Earth, and the immortal soul mate of the Moon Princess. Mamoru and Usagi had been married right after Usagi's graduation from high school. Although the first few years had been difficult, Mamoru had established himself as a promising young lawyer, and Usagi had managed to get an Arts Degree from a minor college. There had been no monster attacks to cause Usagi to transform into Sailor Moon, the pretty sailor-suited soldier of love and justice, nor any need for Mamoru to assume his Tuxedo Kamen identity. It was at her college Convocation that she had announced to her friends that she was pregnant. Ami remembered the night vividly... "Hi Rei!", greeted Ami cheerily as she plopped herself into an empty chair at the Tsukino family guest table. She had missed the graduation ceremony due to a long shift, but had arrived in time for the party afterwards. She was looking forward to a night out with friends, as opportunities to go out on the town seemed all too rare these days. "Hi Ami!", warmly rejoined Rei. "I'm glad you could make it." Ami nodded wearily in response, smiling at her friend, Hino Rei. Rei drew glances in any crowd. Of average height, and slim, she had the body of a supermodel and the imperiousness of a princess. Her thigh-length, jet black hair, red pouty lips, and molten glance attracted admirers in flocks, but her short-temper and obvious aloofness soon drove them off again, until, like moths burned by a licking flame, they circled to try their luck again. Tonight she was wearing a strapless burgundy-coloured dress with bared shoulders. It gathered at the waist, then fell straight to mid-calf, scant inches above her matching pumps. Ami herself was wearing an azure- coloured shift with a modest neckline, the knee-length skirt nicely contrasting her white-stockinged legs and blue high-heeled shoes. "How are things at the temple? And how is your Grandpa, and Yuuichirou?", asked Ami, slyly dropping in the last name. Yuuichirou was an acolyte that lived and worked at the temple owned by Rei's Grandpa. He and Rei had been fighting a love/hate relationship over the last few years. No one knew Rei's true feelings, and they were unlikely to find out. The Shinto priestess could be as mysterious and tightlipped as Mamoru sometimes, thought Ami. Although, since Rei was also the fire-wielding Sailor Mars, being tight-lipped was probably a good thing! At the mention of Yuuichirou's name, Rei glared at Ami. "Don't discuss that supercilious, stuck-up moron in my presence! He makes me so mad!" Visibly calming herself down, she continued in her normal voice. "I'm worried about Grandpa. I think his heart's not too good, but he won't say anything to me. He's just too stubborn!" Ami nodded non-commitally. Rei's grandpa had to be over eighty, and despite his strenuous daily exercise regime, age was beginning to take its toll. Ami privately did not expect him to live out the year, but of course could not mention her suspicions to anyone. She decided to change the subject. "Where is the royal couple?", she asked, noticing Usagi's and Mamoru's absence from the table. "Can't you hear?", laughed Rei. "They're up at the karaoke booth." Ami glanced in that direction. Sure enough, a bubbly Usagi and an embarrassed Mamoru were mangling a song in English. Ami thought she recognized it as "Top of the World" by The Carpenters, a popular group from the early Seventies. Actually, she decided, Mamoru has a nice voice, but it's hard to sing harmony when your partner keeps changing the key! Ami's scan had also located two other people she had been dying to see. Walking through the crowd, balancing a tray of exotic looking drinks, were two striking young ladies, a blonde and a brunette. The brunette stood out by dint of her great height, at least six inches taller than any other lady present. She wore her chestnut hair in a perky topknot and pony-tail, pulled through an emerald-beaded twist. A forest green dress with a daring crossed bodice draped her statuesque form, bringing out the highlights in her beautifully liquid green eyes. Her name was Kino Makoto, and an old school friend of Ami's. She also happened to be the puissant Sailor Jupiter, karate expert and caster of lightning bolts. Ami was always glad to have her on her side in combat. With her was Aino Minako, also known to Ami as the warrior of love and beauty, Sailor Venus. True to her exhibitionist nature, she was wearing a black cocktail dress from Halston that left little to the imagination. Minako looked like the All-American girl next door, with honey coloured hair flowing down below her waist, cornflower blue eyes, a slender waist and a voluptuous figure. She had recently graduated from UCLA in the United States, and had flown over for Usagi's graduation. Ami, Rei, Makoto and Minako made up the princess' bodyguard, but this was the first time in over nine months that they had all managed to get together. When they reached the table, Makoto put the drinks down, while Minako flew over to hug Ami, snagging her foot on a chair in the process and landing right in Ami's lap. "Oops, sorry!", she squealed. "So, how ya doin', you a doctor yet? Met any good looking boys? I can fix you up if you want, after all, I am the senshi of Love, ya know...", she prattled on. Ami sighed, thinking, not for the first time, that her resemblance to Usagi was not just physical. "I'm fine, Minako, how are you? Yes, I am a doctor now, and I don't have time for boys right now. How's your career going?" Minako had majored in dramatic arts, and her stunning looks and energetic nature had landed her some bit parts in a few Hollywood movies. Actually, the thought of Minako fixing up dates for people was laughable. For some reason, she never seemed to have the luck to attract the right sort of man for herself. "No boy friend? Ami, we have to get you out more", she stated with her typical calm assurance that everything could be made to work if you were just enthusiastic and straight-forward enough. The fact that her plans seldom unfolded the way she envisioned never seemed to dampen her ardour. "My career is going pretty well", she continued. "I don't know yet if I'm going to choose acting or the Pro Beach Volleyball tour". Minako had made the NCAA Division 1 All-American team in volleyball her last two years. While her five-foot-six frame was much shorter than the average player, her combat reflexes, enhanced strength, and tactical skills developed as the leader of the princess' guards more than compensated. "Nike has offered me fifty thousand dollars in endorsements, so it's a tough decision." "What does Artemis think you should do?", asked Ami, referring to Minako's magical talking cat. The white feline was very sarcastic most of the time, but loved Minako dearly. Ami surmised that he was probably off frisking with Usagi's magical cat Luna. Not that she could imagine the staid and respectable black cat 'frisking'. She would probably tell Artemis to grow up, while secretly wishing she could act just as silly. Minako frowned at the mention of Artemis' name. "He wants me to come back to Japan. He thinks I'm needed here. I don't know why. We haven't had a monster attack in almost five years. I think he just misses Luna! What do you think, Mako-chan?" "I think you should keep following your dream", answered Makoto, smiling. "I followed mine, and look where it's lead me." Makoto had not led an easy life, Ami mused. She had been orphaned at age fourteen when an untimely plane crash claimed her parents' lives. Shortly thereafter, she had been lead astray by a boy who had taken advantage of her still-confused state to rob her of her virginity, then spurned her, leaving her scarred for life. Her overeagerness for some kind of a serious relationship seemed to have scared off the men. A tremendously skilled chef, she had opened a lunchtime noodle place in the heart of the Juuban business district. It was called Tampopo, and was quickly gaining a reputation as THE place to eat lunch. Rei interrupted the conversation. "Here they come!" Under her breath she muttered "and thankfully that song is over!" Ami laughed. Rei was still taking jabs at Usagi, even after all these years. As Usagi's best and closest friend, she was the only one with the latitude to heap abuse on the princess. Sometimes she did it too much, thought Ami, but she had tempered her comments over the years. Usagi hugged and kissed all the girls, while Mamoru stood quietly by. "Guess what news I have for you?" she squealed. "Duh, let me guess", drawled Rei. "You graduated?" "No. Well yes, but not that", retorted a flustered Usagi. "I'm pregnant!" Two seconds of stunned silence followed the announcement, followed by a babble of words and a second round of hugs. Then , the import of the words sank in. Of course, the girls responded in their own inimicable ways. "Kawaii...", breathed Minako. "Congratulations Usagi! She'll be so cute. I can see it now." "Hai!", shouted Makoto, punctuating her exclamation with a pumped fist. "Way to go!". "Baka!", Rei screamed. "What have you done! Chibi-Usa is not supposed to be born for nine hundred years!" "Nani?" Ami was confused. Setsuna had lectured them all about how the future was not set in stone, but everybody assumed that Usagi's daughter would not be born until the end of the next millennium. She looked at her friend questioningly. "How can this happen"? Usagi had smiled brightly. "Oh, I don't know, in the usual way I guess." She blushed and then giggled. Usagi had changed the most of all the senshi. While still a bit of an airhead, and totally infatuated with "her Mamo-chan", she had matured in a way no one had believed possible. Losing the awkwardness of her teenage years, she had grown graceful, and even more beautiful. Perhaps a bit too thin, she appeared as an almost ethereal creature, sent by the spirits from faerie land to grace the earth for a while. The other girls all groaned. Mamoru had stepped in. "Listen girls, it will all work out, trust me. I've been talking to Setsuna and she doesn't seem worried." At the mention of the mysterious Sailor Pluto's name, everybody had relaxed. As the Guardian of Time, she knew the past, present and future, and watched the timelines for any untoward disruptions. If she was not worried, they wouldn't be. Everything would work out. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, good friends revisiting great times... An exceptionally loud groan from Usagi drew her back out of her reverie. This had been a difficult birth for both Usagi and Ami. Usagi had been scared out of her wits by the impending birth of her child. When her water had broken, she had panicked, and then simply sat down and cried. Of course, this had brought out the worst in Luna, her magical black cat. "Usagi!", she scolded. "Grow up! You're about to become a mother, with all the responsibility that entails, and you simply sit there crying like a young girl! Haven't I taught you anything? I don't know why I ever bothered in the first place!", she continued, in a tone all too familiar to Usagi. This had started Usagi off. "Why are you always so mean - Phffbbbth", she complained, and stuck her tongue out. The stoic Mamoru had merely picked up the phone, and called Ami, the doctor on call. Ami told him to bring Usagi to the hospital once her contractions were ten minutes apart. "How will we know when the contractions start?", he had asked. "You will know", Amy had replied with a certainty that he did not share. An hour later, Mamoru was heading towards Juuban General with the speed that only his friend Haruka could match, Luna left firmly at home. The frustrated Luna had smugly been informed by Usagi that pets weren't allowed in the hospital, much to her chagrin. Mamoru had passed a motorcycle cop on a souped-up bike, but lost him with a deftly thrown rose into the bike's spikes. When it came to his Usako's health, Mamoru was fanatical. He chuckled when he thought of Haruka. Currently residing in Monaco, Ten'oh Haruka was the rising star on the Formula One circuit. Replacing Ukyo Katayama on the formerly inept Minardi team, with the new Honda engine she was able to wage a three-way war with Jacques Villeneuve and Michael Schumaker for the World Championship. She was considered by many to be the greatest talent since Aayrton Senna. The irony was that only her close friends knew her to be a girl. The rest of the world thought she was a man. She was tall and handsome, with short, sandy-blonde hair and a husky voice, who preferred to wear men's clothing, and enjoyed immensely the joke she was playing on the world. A few years older than the other senshi, she became Sailor Uranus in times of need, physically the strongest of the team. Kaioh Michiru was her soulmate. Inseparable, she teamed up with Haruka as Sailor Neptune, another powerful fighter. She was also a famous painter, and a concert violinist of renown. Since 'acquiring' her Stradivarius from an Italian Mafioso, her playing had risen to the point where the magic she drew forth from her instrument was only rivalled by the legendary Jascha Heifetz and Yehudi Menuhin. Accompanying Haruka to her races, she picked and chose her venues to correspond to her racing schedule. With the death of Princess Diana of Great Britain leaving a void in the tabloid market, she and Haruka had become the latest 'hot' couple. Only their senshi powers had enabled them to escape the crushing press of paparazzi at times. Once at the hospital, Usagi had started to hyperventilate. Mamoru had counted the breaths with her to calm her down. "Come on, Usako! Take a deep cleansing breath, now let it out slowly. Okay, now pant blow pant blow pant blow pant blow" he rapidly spoke, forcing her into a regular rhythm. "Now breathe in, good, now a long out, slowly, like that. Good." This had gone on for a good eight hours, with Usagi starting to dilate, then stopping. The poor girl was exhausted and in pain, and Ami suffered along with her. Ami looked down on her princess, with her hospital gown soaked in sweat, limp pigtails, and laboured breathing, and sighed. She wondered what the others were feeling right now. Minako could not be present at the birth due to a shoot she was doing in Vancouver. Which was just as well, thought Ami. She remembered vividly the nightmare of Minako acting as a nurse. Rei was not present at the birth either, having taken a much-needed vacation to a hot springs resort owned by a friend of the family. Her Grandpa had passed away two weeks ago, and she was having difficulties with Yuuichirou. Usagi had understood, and told her to come back whole. Makoto was here at the hospital, pacing the waiting room with quick, impatient steps, muttering imprecations at the hospital's policy that would not let her be at her princess' side when her support might be needed. She was a contrast to Hotaru, with whom she had come. The pale, black-haired girl with the violet eyes sat passively watching her, no trace of her Sailor Saturn, Angel of Death, Messiah of Silence, alter ego peeping through. And she, she was delivering the royal baby. After studying in Germany on an accelerated scholarship program, Ami had returned to work in her mother's clinic. At first she had been resented by the staff for her apparent preferred appointment. But Ami's gentle, quiet ways, kindness, and undoubted ability had won the respect and admiration of her co-workers. They fondly called her "chibi-sensei" when referring to her (at least when she wasn't around), and looked after her as best they could. When Usagi asked Ami to be her obstetrician, Ami could not refuse. She was now more tense than normal, as the birth was progressing strangely, and Ami's knowledge of the patient intruded on her detached professionalism. Now more complications were being added. Due to Usagi's drug allergies, they had not ben able to perform an epidural, and Usagi was giving birth naturally. "The baby is caught in the umbilical cord", she tersely remarked. "Easy, dear, you know what to do", said her mother, taking Usagi's hand and stroking her brow. "Okay Usagi-san, please try not to push, and we'll position the baby better. Then you'll be done in no time", she added as brightly as she could. "But it hurts so much!", cried Usagi. "And I need to push. Ooohh!!" "Just relax and try not to think about it", replied the elder Mizuno soothingly. "You're in good hands." After much effort, and no little discomfort to Usagi, Ami had managed to slide the umbilical cord to the side, and the baby was ready to come out. She sighed with relief. Everything was finally ready for the birth of the girl who would be the heir to Crystal Tokyo a thousand years from now. "I can see the head, Usagi-chan! Push again! And again. Okay, one more big one. Hurray!" Usagi sighed with relief as she felt the baby pop out. The air was filled with the wailing cry of a newborn baby. Mamoru was gripping Usagi's hand with crushing force that had not relented in the last ten minutes, tears streaming down his face. "It's a girl!" cried Ami joyously, wishing she could dance around in triumph. She realized that decorum forbid such a display, and instead, walked to the head of the bed and presented the newborn to her mother. "Hello little Usagi", she whispered, looking at her tiny infant, reddish-brown hair matted to her small skull. The baby opened her wide blue eyes, that would one day turn pink, and stared into her mother's face. Usagi broke down in tears. "You're so beautiful", she breathed. She held her to her breast, oblivious to the rest of the room. Mamoru stood quietly by, realizing that this was Usagi's moment. "Well done, Ami-sensei. Arigato.", he told her. "It was nothing.", replied Ami modestly. "Thank you for being there for her." Usagi had never realized anything so precious and beautiful could exist in the world. Even knowing the little terror she would grow up to be could not dampen her spirits. All she wanted to do was to hold her little Usa forever. Nothing would ever part her from her child. Reality eventually intruded upon her. "Usagi-chan", said Ami. "We have to clean and measure the baby now." "Ah, can't I hold her a little longer?", she wheedled. "No, Usagi.", replied Ami. "The baby will get tired and want feeding, and you need to rest too. Please let us have Chibi-Usa." While Ami moved off to weigh the baby, and Mamoru moved over to get a photograph, Usagi relaxed back into her bed, alone for a few seconds. Strangely, irrationally, she felt lost without the baby to hold. The adrenaline of the birth was wearing off, and she suddenly felt cold and tired. A greenish glow was filling the room, and she thought she was hallucinating, until she glanced to her right and saw the cause of it. Sailor Pluto was standing there in all her awe-inspiring glory. Over six feet in height, her exotic beauty was set off by long, dark green hair, and a daring outfit of a short black fuku and sleeveless blouse, a more mature look than the rest of the senshi. Dwarfing even her height was her Time Staff, an impressive looking staff in the shape of a skeleton key, topped with a glowing red ruby, the Garnet Orb, with the power to stop time itself. Which is what she was doing right now, realized Usagi. The green glow flooded from the gem, and froze everyone in the room in their places. Only she and Pluto could move. Usagi suddenly got scared. Stopping time was forbidden. Only a coming catastrophe could necessitate such a step. Pluto spoke. "Your Highness", she bowed her head briefly, then looked straight into Usagi's eyes with the glance that no one could face. Usagi had to turn away. "We have come to the most important moment of history, and you must make a choice. There are grave disasters waiting in the time line. Unless they are averted, you will all be dead in three years. Mamoru will die, you will die, Crystal Tokyo will never exist, and your daughter Chibi-Usa will die, as will the entire planet." She paused then, and let the weight of the unnatural silence set in and give further import to her grim words. Usagi's mind blanked. All she could croak out was a gasping "Nani? How?" "That is too complicated to go into right now.", replied the Guardian of Time. "Time is running short." She permitted herself an ironic smile at the word play, then grew grimly serious again. "I must be brief." She leaned forward, took a deep breath, and spoke sombrely. "If you wish your friends and daughter to live, you must sacrifice your life for theirs. Only your death will change the timeline enough to ensure their survival. Can you die for them? Will you die for them!?" Overwhelmed, Usagi reeled in shock. What was Pluto saying? Her friends, her Mamo-chan, her new baby would die if she lived! How could this be? She did not want to believe her. All her dreams, her happiness, shattered. Never to grow into the beautiful queen of Crystal Tokyo, to reign for a thousand years with her lover and friends by her side! She turned frantically to Pluto. She thought of the baby she had just had, her little daughter, and how she looked forward to nursing her and raising her, sharing the joys of first steps and first words. "I don't believe you. I don't want to believe you!", she screamed. "You say that there's no Crystal Tokyo if I live. How can there be if I die?!" She started sobbing with fear and grief, Pluto's message too much, too fast for her in her exhausted shape, after the ordeal of her labour. Pluto's face flickered with a rapid series of emotional changes, each shape seemingly alien on her normally impassive visage. Her face settled on that enigmatic smile that Leonardo da Vinci captured for the ages so many years ago. "A princess of the blood has just been born, Your Highness", she answered evasively. Usagi pondered Pluto's words. She seemed to see their true meaning. If not her, at least her daughter would rule Crystal Tokyo in the future, with her husband there to advise the child. It was a bittersweet victory, she thought. But could she trust Pluto? Should she trust Pluto? What was she up to? After all, she had been to the future, and seen her future self, hadn't she? Wasn't that real? Pluto seemed to sense her doubts, and leaned forward until she was mere inches from Usagi's face. "You must trust me", she said urgently. "The time window is exceedingly small. I have had to wait for this moment. Think of your daughter, Chibi-Usa! Will you die for HER? Will you die so that she might live?" Usagi turned to meet Pluto's intense gaze, her eyes boring into fathomless depths, into Pluto's immortal soul. This time, she held the gaze locked, as an equal, and saw... She saw love, and understanding, and bitterness, and pain, and compassion, and torment. She saw rage and sorrow. She caught brief glimpses of ancient pasts and possible futures, twisting this way and that, medusan snakes writhing on the gorgon's head. She saw all the things harboured within Pluto, that no mortal could ever experience and still stay sane. And she saw truth. And it was beautiful, and sad, and fearful and uncertain. Usagi was crying now, tears streaming down her face in an uncontrollable flood, but her mouth was locked in the rictus of a smile, and there was a serenity and nobility about her that took Pluto's breath away. "Yes", she croaked hoarsely to Pluto, then again, stronger - "Yes. I will die for her. Ohh, Mamo-chan!" Pluto bowed one last time in reverence to the woman who would lose all to gain all for her friends, and whispered "DEAD SCREAM." Usagi's body jerked, then her eyes rolled lifelessly towards the heavens. Pluto turned on her heel and vanished into thin air, the green mist dispelling behind her and awakening the grotesquely frozen shapes hovering around the baby. Ami turned backed to Usagi to deliver the placenta. And screamed. Chapter 2 - Interregnum "Our two souls therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to aery thinness beat." - John Donne, "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" "Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his finity... but the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of the White Silence." - Jack London, "The White Silence" The scorching sun beating down on his head had an almost malevolent air about it, thought Mamoru. It was sucking the very spirit out of the gathering of onlookers. The oppressive heat wave was still very much in evidence, and the freshly gathered flowers placed around the coffin seemed already to have started to wilt underneath the sun's fierce glare. The heavy formal clothes he was wearing only served to accentuate the excessively warm temperature. The sweat dripping from the faces of his fellow mourners gave the appearance as if their very features were weeping tears of grief. Mamoru may have been grieving, but he did not weep. The rigid barriers he had built over his previous twenty-five years trammelled his outward display of feelings, revealing only a cold, blank mask. Inside, he felt empty - cold, barren, void. He had not slept in the two days since Usagi's death, and only his iron resolve was carrying him through. The only thing he had left now of her love was their baby. He looked over to where Usagi's parents, Kenji and Ikuko, were holding little Usagi. They had stepped in immediately after the birth, to take care of the little girl. Mamoru did not know how he could have coped without their support. They had pushed aside their loss, a loss just as great as his, to help another fellow sufferer. If he had any doubts before of where Usagi got her all-giving heart, they were dispelled now. The baby appeared to be the only person unmoved here. There was a huge crowd of people at the funeral, all those whose lives Usagi had touched with her particular magic. Unashamed tears ran down from most of their faces. The most affected, though, were the inner senshi. Their faces had the look of stunned despair and disbelief. Ami seemed the worst hit. Her tiny frame was crumpled into Minako's body, her head buried in Minako's chest. She was still sobbing and shaking, something she had been doing non-stop throughout the entire service. Minako stared ahead in abject misery, while Makoto stood stock still, face stricken, her rigid posture and clenched fists revealing a tension just waiting to explode. Hotaru looked lost and frightened, her fragile frame even paler in her black mourning dress and veil. Haruka and Michiru stood a bit apart, hand-in-hand, while flashbulbs popped in the background. The newspapers would have a field day with this, thought Mamoru, wincing as he imagined the headlines. "FAMOUS DRIVER MOURNS OLD FLAME'S DEATH", or some other such nonsense. There was no sign of Setsuna. In fact, he had not seen Setsuna since the discussion with Usagi and himself on that cold December day, so long ago now. They had discussed the future, with Setsuna unwilling to divulge any useful information, he recollected bitterly. "Yes, the pregnancy was a good thing." "No, Crystal Tokyo was not threatened." "Yes, things would work out." "No, I can't tell you any specifics." Where was she now? he thought. Nowhere to be seen, while his life crumbled into ruins. He noticed Rei get up to make her address, and steeled himself to listen. Rei was in turmoil. Her best friend was dead. She had failed to protect the princess she had sworn her life to guard. While Usagi lay dying, she had been soaking herself luxuriously in a hot tub! She had failed her in her hour of need. Never again would she allow herself to be weak, to relax her guard for the sake of personal selfishness. She had actually felt the tremor in her heart when her princess died. Scrambling hastily back to Tokyo, she had found a shambles. Pulling herself together, she had taken over all arrangements for the funeral, and placed upon herself the burden of eulogizing Usagi. All was quiet as she walked to the head of the grave. She had agonized over what to say, and after many aborted attempts, as the deadline ticked down for her speech to be written, she had decided to dip into the literature she had been forced to read so many years ago at her Catholic school. John Donne, William Shakespeare, Dylan Thomas - all had written eloquently on the subject of death, but they did not sufficiently stir her. She needed something with the passion to spark others to continue on with their new life. A chance remark from Ami had led her to the passage she needed. Now she would try to encapsulate their entire situation with words, however inadequate. "We come here today to mourn the death of Chiba Usagi", she started, rather stiffly. "Beloved wife of Chiba Mamoru, mother of baby Usagi, daughter of Tsukino Kenji and Ikuko, and friend to us all. It is always a tragedy when someone dies so young, their promise unfulfilled, their life finished almost before it starts. Perhaps not a tragedy for Usagi. She is free now of all earthly cares, gone to wherever you believe that good people go at death. But it is a tragedy for those left behind. Who here has not been touched by her love?" "I remember the first time I realized I loved her." She stopped, choked with tears. Everyone was still silent. After a few seconds, she continued. "The moment is too private for me to share , but without her friendship I would have withered alone in my temple, segregated from the world by my self-erected barriers. Instead, I have experienced many beautiful friendships in the world without. There are many here with the same experience as myself. Usagi had the unique ability to reach out to even the loneliest person, and welcome them into her heart. Never believing in evil, she trusted everyone, and everyone gained." "The world will be a sadder place without her. Never more will I see her turn the corner with that infectious bounce and warm smile. Her daughter will grow up without a mother's love and comfort, and her husband will explore the inner depths of his heart for the vestiges of her. Her parents will have only memories, and her friends will have emptiness." "There are some of us who had even higher hopes for her, our secret hope, and dream of beauty, now forever shattered. But life must go on, as it has for millennia upon millennia, and we must endure and survive. She would have wanted it no other way." "I would like to leave you with a few words, that express more eloquently than I can, the value in continuing on with our lives, and our own hopes and dreams. If the words do not make perfect sense, please blame it on my poor translation from English to Japanese. The poet laureate of Great Britain, Lord Tennyson, wrote these words over a hundred years ago, but they remain timeless: "Death closes all; but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods..." As she recited, Rei noticed how everyone had become even more still, their eyes focused on her, while she intoned the ending passage of 'Ulysses'. "... Come, my friends, 'T is not too late to seek a newer world..." Not too late for us, I hope, she thought. Perhaps there was life without Usagi, her sweet odongo-atama. Perhaps the senshi could still function effectively if needed. She got to the passage that she had meant for the rest of the senshi. "Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are: One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." "Life can go, must go on, and will go on!", she continued. "We say goodbye now to our friend, and say 'We Love You, Rabbit of the Moon'. We will always remember and cherish you." She stood with her head bowed for a few seconds, then walked over to Mamoru and watched as the earth was shovelled onto the grave. Most of the mourners dispersed, their long faces still revealing their inner pain. The rest of the senshi approached. Mamoru turned to Rei, and said simply, "Thank you Rei." Then, noticing Ami, he gently hugged her, and with his left hand, turned her tear-stained face to his. "Ami, it's not your fault". "It is!!", the normally reserved girl shrieked at him. "If I had been a better doctor, or studied harder, or noticed some signs earlier, Usagi would still be alive! I killed her!!!" "No!", he barked. "Ami, childbirth is still a dangerous time. There is so much that can go wrong. It is NOT YOUR FAULT. You have saved our lives with your skills many times, and there is not a doctor I would prefer to have. Would still prefer to have", he remonstrated. "If anyone could have saved her, I know it would have been you." At that moment, Haruka coughed. "Hu-Hmm. Ami, get hold of yourself. No one blames you but yourself. Mamoru-san", she continued, "we swore an oath to the princess. Michiru and I will reaffirm that commitment to Chibi-Usa, the new princess of the moon." She knelt down on one knee, soiling her tuxedo in the earth left over from the grave. Beside her, Michiru did the same, her dress swirling gracefully as she sank to the earth. "I pledge to protect the Moon Princess to the best of my ability, with my life as forfeit if I fail.", they intoned together. "Upon her coming into her inheritance, I will obey all her commands as my sovereign monarch. I so swear by the sign of my planet". Mamoru looked distinctly uncomfortable as he said "Thank you, Uranus and Neptune. Your service does you credit". Haruka rose, and replied regretfully, "I'm sorry, but we have to leave now. I have a race I have to practise for. We'll keep in touch". With an almost apologetic nod to the rest of the senshi, she strode rapidly to her car, with Michiru in tow, followed by a gaggle of photographers. As she buckled up her seat belt, she asked her elegant companion, "Michiru, what does the mirror show?" "Still the Silence", she gravely replied. "Only the two of us, then, together, at the end?" she queried. "Yes", replied Michiru, "the two of us, together, until the end". They clasped hands, and looking into each other's eyes, lingered on a kiss. There was a sad passion, and a lingering desperation, and a renewed determination in that kiss. Haruka eventually broke the kiss, and, slipping the car into gear, drove quietly away from the cemetery, the two of them lost in their thoughts. * * * Setsuna had stayed away from the funeral. She couldn't face the questions and accusations that would come from Mamoru and the others. They would not, would never understand. Besides, her presence would have seemed hypocritical to herself, after the role she had played. She had let Haruka and Michiru believe that she was looking into the time perturbations caused by Usagi's death, and trusted them to pass the word. It was time for her to take a break, an extended vacation, before the final, irrevocable act. Let them hate her, or fear her. The stakes were too high for petty feelings. At least, that is what she had tried, and was still trying to believe, every day for the last nine months. She had one more role to play, one more decision to make, one more blot to put on her soul. She stood on the porch in irresolute indecision, then, with a drawing of breath, knocked on the door. The cheerful greeting coming from the other side only made things worse. She trembled, wondering whether she could go through with it, then crossed the threshold. "Hello Hotaru", she smiled wanly, trying to put an easy tone into her voice. "I hope you don't mind me dropping over?" "Of course not, Setsuna", replied Hotaru. "Come in and have some tea. I've made green tea, your favourite. It's a new blend I thought you'd like..." Her friendly voice faded in volume as the kitchen wall was interposed. Setsuna followed after stepping into some slippers, an act she found distressingly uncomfortable, considering the breach of hospitality she was about to commit. Five minutes later, they were sitting around the dining room table in a cautious silence. Obviously, Usagi's death was still weighing heavily on Hotaru's mind. Setsuna cast about for an opening gambit. "Where are the kids?" she asked. Hotaru was doing a lot of babysitting as part of her Early Childhood Education curriculum. "They're down in the basement, playing for now. They should be okay for another ten minutes or so." She seemed surprised when Setsuna suddenly choked on her tea. "Are you all right?" No, she thought in her mind, nothing will ever be all right again. The suddenness of the vision she had just received brought an unquieting image to her mind, a fierce elation, and an even heavier conscience. If you choose not to act, are you acting? Aloud, she said "Oh yes, I'm fine. I'm just worried about the state of the world. With Usagi dead, there are no other Messiah's to stop you filling your destiny." Hotaru was aghast. "Setsuna!", she reprimanded angrily. "You know I would never unleash the Silence!" Setsuna gazed impassively back, her eyes more Pluto than human. "Do I? If the world was being destroyed, would you stand idly back, or try to prevent it?" "Prevent it, of course", she retorted. "And if the only way to prevent it would be to unleash your powers and destroy the world anyway?" "I - I - I don't know", stammered Hotaru. "Exactly my point", replied Setsuna, as she got up from the table. The choice was clear to her now. "I have to leave." A worried Hotaru scrambled to follow her friend to the door, watching her slip her shoes back on. She was about to say something when she heard a scream from the basement. "I have to check that out", she apologetically stated, as Setsuna was opening the door. "I know", responded Setsuna, stepping onto the porch. "I know", she repeated more softly to herself after the door closed behind her. The image was still in her mind, the toy left on the top of the basement steps. Was she responsible if she did not mention it? Before she could change her mind, she sprinted for her car. Inside, Hotaru opened the basement door... * * * Haruka sat in her sleek blue-and-white Minardi, her ears unconsciously registering the whine that a V-8 engine produced at 17,000 rpm's. Physically, she was sitting in a twenty million dollar car, revving her Yamaha engine to keep it from stalling while waiting for the start of the race. Mentally, she was far away, reliving Usagi's funeral service and Hotaru's fall. Emotionally, she was confused. Her eyes mechanically registered the BAR-Reynard of three-time Formula One World Champion Jacques Villeneuve, parked on the grid in front of her, in the pole position. To her right, and slightly forward, was current points leader and twice World Champion Michael Schumacher's menacing red Ferrari. By all rights, this should have been a triumphant day for her. Third in the point standings, third on the grid, returning triumphantly to her home track where she had driven Formula 3000 cars so successfully. Thirteen points behind Schumacher, and three behind Villeneuve, she needed a win to retain a realistic chance of capturing the title as they entered the second half of the season, two weeks from now in South Africa. Now, she didn't care. What good was it to win?, she thought rhetorically. The world was going to hell in a hand basket and there was seemingly nothing she could do to stop it. The adulation would be fleeting; the Silence would be eternal. After so many victories, she would lose the race that counted. She pushed her brooding thoughts to the back of her mind as the signal lights started to come on. Five red lights. They would light, one at a time, and when they all went out the race would start. She counted them off in her mind. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Off. Floor it. Popping her hand clutch, Haruka switched to first gear while tromping the accelerator. As the wheels started to overspin, she backed off the gas slightly, shifting up into second and stepping on the pedal hard again, the tires catching the pavement and translating her torque into forward momentum. Now into third gear, the car was working perfectly. Three seconds after the start she was at ninety miles per hour and climbing. Haruka loved starts. Starts were chaos; burning tires, obscuring smoke, and twenty-six drivers madly swerving, trying to overtake each other before the long race separated them. It was the only time during a race that her heart was truly in her mouth, when even her great skill could not fully control all the variables on the track. In front of her, Villeneuve had performed one of his trademark poor starts, and she cursed as she had to back off the gas a bit to avoid hitting him. Schumacher took advantage of this lapse to draw even with Villeneuve, and the two cars in front of her entered the first curve side by side. Haruka shifted down to third, while breaking down to 120 mph to take the 180-degree right-hander. She tucked in behind Villeneuve, using the more conventional line through the corner, while Schumacher pulled ahead into the lead. The rest of the pack, headed by Mika Hakkinen's black and silver McLaren, thundered through the turn behind her. Now they were into the 'S' curve. Up to fifth gear through a sweeping left-hander, then breaking down to second to double back to the right, then, working the gears hard, pushing the car all the way to fifth through a tighter left-hander, before an almost panicky drop to second for the right-hand switchback. This was a place where a brave driver could pick up time, where the contenders were separated from the pretenders. As she pulled a 3-G turn, the car shuddered, the tires struggling for grip as the steering demanded a change of vector that should have defied the laws of physics. She knew that one slight nudge from a trailing car, or even something as simple as a bump on the track, would tip the balance the car was trying so desperately to maintain, and send her off the course into the gravel track and the metal retaining wall. It wasn't until she let out a short breath that Haruka realized she had been holding her breath through the turn. Now she was locked onto Villeneuve's gearbox, scant inches away, as they both roared up the hill on Dunlop's curve. This was when she could feel the engine's might, 760 horsepower pulling her up the steeply inclined left-hander. In her element in top gear, sixth, at 190 mph, she then had to brake down to second for Degner's curve, a blind righthander at the top of the hill, before streaking away under the bridge towards the first good passing place on the Suzuka circuit, the first gear Hairpin Curve. As Villeneuve aligned his car on the right side of the track to take the sharp lefthander, she darted out from behind his car, diving to the inside, daring him to brake later than her, or to give up the corner. It was a multi-million dollar game of chicken, and just when she thought she was going to lose, Villeneuve finally braked. Haruka gleefully darted passed the Reynard, realizing too late that she had left it just a touch too late herself. Formula One cars may be able to go from 200 mph to zero in under four seconds, but there were limits! Her brakes locked, smoke burst from her tires, and she overshot the apex of the curve. Foot still on the brakes, she floored the accelerator while spinning the car in a hundred-and-eighty degree arc, miraculously performing a power spin and maintaining position on the track. Her adversary took the opportunity to slip past, and by the time Haruka got under way, the blue Reynard was streaking away, while Hakkinen was knocking on her gear box. She cursed for a second time, then drew herself under control and shifted up the gears to 6th on the wide sweeping power turn towards the Spoon Curve. She approached the entrance on the far right, then braked down to fourth and swung hard left. Spoon curves had a tighter exit than entrance, and she had to concentrate on dropping to 3rd, while keeping her speed up for the exit. Her right-side wheels roared over the red-and-white rumble strip at the curve's exit, causing her view to tilt slightly as if in a fighter plane about to do a roll. Straightening up the vehicle, she accelerated up the long hill in pursuit of her quarry. At the crest of the hill, Haruka followed the exhilarating ninety degree curve to the left, at 190 miles per hour, the fastest curve on the entire Formula One circuit, then streaked past the pit entrance towards the last part of the track, the Casio Chicane. Half a second in front of her, Villeneuve was braking for the chicane, while Schumacher's red Ferrari was busy negotiating it in front of them both. Down to first, she counted the gears - fifth, fourth, third, second, off the brake, sweep right. Now a touch of the brake pedal down to first to avoid the sand trap, a sweep left and back up through the gears, around the gentle right-hander and onto the start-finish straight. She could see the crowd rising to their feet as she swept passed the finish line at 180 mph. To most people, at that speed the stands would have been a massive blur. To Haruka's trained eye, though, details were easily picked out. The sign on the pit board placing her third, four- tenths of a second behind Villeneuve, and Michiru in the front row looking gorgeously elegant in a yellow sundress. She gave her a quick thumbs up, then concentrated on catching the car ahead of her. Through the next part of the circuit, Haruka used every ounce of skill she had to once again tuck in behind Villeneuve's British-American Racing machine, just before the hairpin where she had her last lap misadventure. She took it easy in the curve, then stuck on his tail through the sweeping right hander leading to the spoon curve, using the draft to pass him on the outside. Side by side, they roared into the curve. Then, disaster struck. Haruka's Minardi slid too far to the right, tangling with Villeneuve's Reynard. Wheels interlocking, both cars slid off the track at high speed, Haruka's car being flung violently into the air by the torque of the oppositely-rotating tires. Haruka last remembered the pitching sand filling her vision, and the slamming up and down of the seat on her spine, before the wall loomed up to meet her, and then there was blackness. * * * Alone in his apartment, Mamoru glanced down at his sleeping six-month- old daughter. She was lying in her crib, her reddish-brown hair not yet matching the pink trimming of the basinet. Mamoru could discern his dead wife's features in her sleeping form. Sometimes those features haunted him, other times they were his defense against the darkness. He glanced at the clock for the third time in the last ten minutes, then heard the chime of the doorbell. "I'll get it!", he yelled. From the other room came the sound of the television. Shingo, Usagi's younger brother, was over babysitting tonight. He was also emptying Mamoru's beer fridge while watching a sumo match on the tube. Hotaru's unending coma had seemed to affect him worse than even the other senshi. They all wondered if there had been something between the two of them, or if it was just aftershock from his sister's death. They all dropped in to visit Hotaru from time to time, Rei more than most, but as time passed, those visits became less and less frequent. She might never wake up again. Mamoru let Rei in. He and Rei had formed an understanding in the half year since Usagi's death. Alone, with only an increasingly neglected temple to occupy her time, Rei had sought to expiate her feelings of guilt by transferring her allegiance to Chibi-Usa, the new princess. Yuuichirou had finally left the temple, convinced that nothing would ever happen between himself and Rei. In her own way, Rei mourned that loss, but coming on the heels of the death of her Grandpa and Usagi, her mind numbed the pain until it became just another one of life's tribulations. Mamoru worked at his law firm during the day, while his mother-in-law looked after little Usagi. On evenings where he had to work late, Rei would often come over and babysit. They had formed a tacit companionship, a reminder of happier days. Though the spectre of Usagi lay between them, through her they shared a bond, and found a little peace. Tonight, he and Rei were going out to a concert, and Grandpa Kenji and Shingo, Usagi's younger brother, were looking after Chibi-Usa. Rei looked stunning, as usual, thought Mamoru. She was wearing a black evening dress with black pumps and lovely gold star earrings, underneath a stylish black dress coat. A trace of harsh coldness could be discerned at the corners of the eyes and set of the cheekbones, all remnants of girlishness now gone. Mamoru never had any problem with formal wear. He merely turned into Tuxedo Kamen, and doffed his hat, cloak and mask. "Shall we go?", he asked, looking quizzically at her. She gave him a measured stare, then perceptibly nodded. Mamoru locked the door behind them, and offering his arm, led her down to the waiting limousine. "Nice of Michiru to send the limo", commented Mamoru, as the white stretch limo purred through the city streets en route to the concert hall. He leaned back in his seat, stretching his long legs, and glanced sideways at his erstwhile silent companion. Rei was sitting there, staring straight ahead. Mamoru tried another gambit. Twisting around in his seat, he gazed levelly at her, with a hint of compassion in his eyes, and asked, "Rei, what's wrong?" "Everything's wrong!", she exploded. Struggling to keep her dejection and temper under control, she continued, "Minako's on the other side of the world, Ami's always too busy to see anyone, Makoto's struggling to keep the restaurant afloat, so I never see her, and who knows where Setsuna is or how Hotaru will fair!" Eyes staring blankly into space, she missed the tightening around Mamoru's mouth at the mention of Setsuna's name. She continued, "And look what's happened to Haruka!". "Rei", soothingly interjected Mamoru, and understanding her real problem, obliquely continued, "we all miss her. That can't be helped." There was no need to mention who the 'her' referred to; between these two, there was only one woman who would ever claim that spot. Rei interrupted. "The world misses her! Don't you see Mamoru? Look", she cried, picking up a copy of the complimentary paper supplied by the limousine company. She started reading the headlines. "IRAQ DEVELOPS ATOMIC BOMB. CHINESE BEGIN NUCLEAR TESTING IN SPACE. AMERICAN FLEET REINFORCES TAIWAN. MILITARISTIC GERMANS THREATEN RUSSIA. MASSACRES IN AFRICA - 400,000 DEAD. The world is a colder place without her!" Mamoru had no reply to that. They sat in contemplative silence for a while, then Mamoru asked, "Where are Makoto and Ami?". Rei made a face. "Ami says she will be over after her shift, and Makoto is having some problems at the restaurant." Mamoru cocked an eyebrow. "Can't they make changes for such a special night?", he asked. "That's what I asked", Rei responded. "Ami said I was making a fuss over nothing, that she'd be there, just maybe a few minutes late. Makoto I can't figure out. She's always been the closest to the Outer Senshi. I know that she's worried about dwindling attendance at her restaurant, and she has a few staff problems, but they'll keep for one day, won't they?" "Maybe I'll have to drop by for lunch and talk to her", answered Mamoru decisively. "I'll do it tomorrow. We all have to stick together." The limousine pulled up in front of the concert hall, and they got out, Rei resting gently on Mamoru's arm, past the lineup for the box office. Not a few envious stares were cast in their direction. Rei read the billboard at the entrance: "An Evening with Michiru and Friends". There weren't many people who could be billed with just their first name. She sometimes wished she could be as fortunate as Michiru, but then she always remembered Haruka. Their seats were in the first box right by the stage. After they checked their coats, Rei scanned the evening's program. First on the list was Brahms' piano composition Rhapsody in B Minor, then came a performance of Mozart's 41st Symphony in C Major, often referred to as the 'Jupiter' symphony, with the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra. After a brief intermission, there would be a series of violin and piano duets described as a 'Kreisler collection'. Rei smiled at the choice of symphony; she hoped Makoto would be here to hear it. "Who was Kreisler?", whispered Rei to Mamoru. "Fritz Kreisler was a famous arranger for the violin", responded Mamoru, getting a chance to show off some of his knowledge. It was usually Rei that knew about music. "He is probably most important for being the first to popularize using vibrato as a technique. Before, it used to be considered showy and distracting from the music." "Aahh", said Rei. The tone started to chime for the beginning of the performance, and Ami and Makoto rushed breathlessly in to take their seats beside Rei. Ami was wearing a simple blue dress and no makeup, while Makoto looked to have been equally in a hurry with her mismatched blouse and skirt. The house lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit the stage. Out stepped Michiru. She looked, as always, the epitome of feminine grace. Her pale blue dress caught the sea-green highlights in her hair, and she walked with poise and maturity to the front of the stage. "Good evening", she said into the microphone. The crowd quieted down. "Tonight is a special night for me, and I would like to thank you all for coming out to share it. Not only is it my first performance since last summer, but I have a few friends joining me tonight. Playing with the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra tonight as concert meister is world-renowned recording artist, and my teacher, Nishizaki Takako." She waited for the applause to die down. "And performing for the first time ever at a concert level, our guest soloist for the Brahms Rhapsody. I introduce to you, on the pianoforte, my special friend, Ten'ou Haruka." There was a general hubbub in the crowd as a tuxedo-clad Haruka was wheeled beside a grand piano to the right-centre of the stage. Michiru walked over and helped Haruka slide out of the wheelchair and onto the piano bench. Haruka gave the audience her charismatic boyish grin, and half the female audience started screaming and shrieking. Michiru laughed, gently, and left the stage, and Haruka began to play. Rei smiled. Haruka's crash at Suzuka had left her paralyzed from the waist down. Her promising racing career was over. The doctors told her she would never walk again. Two weeks later, she regained some feeling in her toes. After two months, she had some muscle control in her feet and ankles, although not much strength. As soon as she could push the pedals, Haruka decided to brush up on her long-abandoned piano skills, and make a living for herself another way. She threw herself into studying with the same single-minded determination she brought to all her endeavours, and with Michiru's unflagging encouragement prepared herself for her new career. They had all wondered how the injury would affect her transformation to Sailor Uranus. One fall day, they all gathered at the Outer Senshi's house for a trial. They wheeled Haruka into the garden, and she produced her henshin stick. "URANUS PLANET POWER, MAKE UP!", she cried, holding her pen aloft in her clenched right fist. The sparkling light enveloped her, and she cried out in pain. The transformation finished, she shakily stood up, out of the wheel chair. Michiru caught her before she fell, and draped one of Haruka's arms around her shoulder. Makoto moved to Haruka's other side of her and did the same. "It's as if the magic is giving me communication to my legs, but also all the pain of the accident", she tried explaining. "I don't think I can manage a WORLD SHAKING, or move well enough to swing a sword." She took a few tentative steps, grimacing in pain, then hobbled back over to the wheelchair and sat down with a sense of relief. Michiru looked about to cry. "Maybe you just need time", suggested Makoto in an effort to cheer up Michiru. "Yes", agreed Ami. "After such a prolonged enforced sedentary situation, your muscles would have atrophied to the point of inutility". "If you're saying that after sitting so long in disuse, my muscles are weak, I think I know that, Ami-chan", impudently smirked Haruka. "I'm in pain, I think I need a doctor's hug". That brought a bit of much needed laughter to the group at Ami's expense, and a smack from Michiru. At least Haruka was in good spirits. Unfortunately, as the weeks passed, Haruka's abilities as Sailor Uranus remained at the same weak level. The only person unaffected by this gloomy news was Haruka herself. She had remarked that she never liked wearing skirts anyway. In fact, even though it would have been easier to dress herself every day in a skirt, she stubbornly insisted on struggling into a pair of trousers each morning. She also never gave up hope of a full recovery. Listening to Haruka play, Rei was impressed. She knew the piece, being a piano enthusiast herself. Haruka was playing it with vivacity and comprehension, the grandiose chords and racing passages a perfect complement to her personality. Perhaps she was a bit sloppy with her technique, but that would improve, given time. Michiru had confided to Rei that for accompaniment, it was more important to have someone with whom you were in perfect sync, then someone with a formidable technique. The second half of the show promised to be magical. The piano rolled softly to its close. There were a few seconds of hushed silence, then the audience rose to its feet, cheering wildly. Michiru stepped out of the wings with a yellow rose, and handed it to Haruka. She helped her bow to the audience, then eased her into her wheelchair and pushed her off stage as she waved to the crowd. The applause was deafening. The crowd quietened down again as the orchestra began to tune up for the Jupiter symphony. "She was pretty good, huh!", enthused Makoto to no one in particular. "Now I can't wait to hear MY symphony!" "Yes", agreed Mamoru. "It was excellent. I'm happy for her." He meant it. Even if he could not be happy for himself, he could still be happy for others. His Usa had taught him that. Ami looked a bit ill at ease. "I'll be back in a few minutes", she remarked, and hurried for the exit. Mamoru took no especial notice of Ami's exit, figuring it was probably just a visit to the ladies room. A few minutes later, though, when she returned, he was not as sure. He was positive he could detect the aroma of whiskey clinging to her. Before he could say anything, the lights dimmed and the orchestra began. Mozart's complex symphony carried them away for the next thirty-nine minutes. Mamoru closed his eyes, leaned back, and lost himself in the gorgeous music, letting himself relax for the first time in a long time. Rei listened appreciatively, while Ami gave polite attention to the music, and Makoto sat there a bit bewildered. It was obviously not her type of music. The music crashed to its triumphant conclusion, and they broke for intermission. Ami scurried away again, while Makoto asked why it was called the Jupiter symphony. Mamoru let Rei answer. "It was called the Jupiter symphony because of its grandeur and brilliance. The critics of the day gave it pride of place as the greatest symphony of the Eighteenth Century. I like the 40th symphony best, however, while Mamoru likes the 25th better. It's still pretty good, though. I think it is appreciated more by musicians and composers, because it is so technically brilliant." "Oh, o.k.", said Makoto. "Let's go souvenir shopping." She grabbed Rei's arm and dragged her away. Left to his own devices, Mamoru decided to discreetly follow Ami. Mamoru was great at shadowing. All those years as Tuxedo Kamen had honed his stealth, and his great height allowed him to easily spot people in crowds. He noticed Ami in line at the champagne bar, and decided to join her. "I didn't know you drank, Ami?", questioned Mamoru. "Oh, I don't, actually, but it is such a special night that I thought I could indulge in a little celebratory champagne. For Haruka's sake", she added, looking innocently at Mamoru. "Uh huh, and how about the alcohol on you that I smelled earlier?", he persisted. "Really, Mamoru", protested Ami, "it's none of your business, but what you could smell was probably the cleaning alcohol from surgery". Mamoru knew that was nonsense. He could tell the difference between whiskey and rubbing alcohol, and Ami did not do surgery. But he had pushed her as far as courtesy allowed. When Ami got to the counter, to Mamoru's surprise, she ordered two glasses of champagne. She gave the second glass to an astonished Mamoru. By this time, the tone started to chime again for the end of intermission. Ami looked at Mamoru, and giggled "Bottoms up!". She drained the rest of her champagne in one gulp, while Mamoru took large sips, trying to finish his in time, too. Ami yelled, "Catch you later, slowpoke!", and ran off for her seat, leaving a non-plussed Mamoru to follow when he finished his drink. The girls were all in their seats when Mamoru got back to the box. Rei and Makoto were showing off tee-shirts they had bought. There was a picture of Michiru playing the violin on the front, and the back said "Tokyo Symphony Orchestra". There was applause as Haruka was installed at the piano, and Michiru came out with her violin. They began to play. From the first quick violin notes of Haydn's Hungarian Rondo, the audience was enthralled. Michiru's violin danced and sang, with Haruka in such perfect step that the two instruments sometimes sounded like one. After the fast tempo of Haydn, they switched to the slow ballad from Bizet's L'Arlesienne. The romantic, bittersweet melody soared effortlessly from her 1709 Stradivarius, the rich timbre of the notes bringing chills to the audience. A succession of Rimsky-Korsakov numbers followed, leading to the last two numbers, the climax of the show. The penultimate piece was Handel's misnamed Largo from his opera 'Serse'. It was evident from the opening chords of Haruka's piano that she had been saving herself for this piece. She imbued the normally majestic opening with a romanticism that would have been the envy of any pianist. When Michiru's violin entered after the introduction, many members of the audience were in tears. Mamoru noticed that she had switched to her 1703 Strad for this piece, its soft sweet tones making a poignant contrast to the rich complexity of the previous numbers. All the longings, all the regrets that harboured her soul, seemed to come forth in her playing. The song ended, the enraptured audience was still in a state of deep profundity, until Haruka's piano and Michiru's violin signalled the finale of the night. It was more Mozart, his Rondo from the Haffner Serenade. It was a lively, dancing celebration of life, a show stopper. They played it with dash and delight, carrying the audience with them. When it finally finished, the applause came crashing down from the rafters in waves. Haruka gave her cocky grin, while Michiru bowed, that secretive smile on her face. From somewhere, she produced a yellow rose and handed it to Haruka. Of all in the audience, probably only Mamoru knew the full significance of the gift. It was a moment that should have been shared in private, but was put on display for the world to see. Mamoru and the girls made their way backstage during the prolonged cheering. Eventually, Haruka and Michiru arrived from the stage, Haruka being pushed in her wheelchair by Michiru. The girls were effusive in their praise. There was lots of excited chatter. Mamoru felt a bit left out, until Michiru turned to him, and asked him how he was. Wordlessly, he reached into his inside breast pocket and extracted two long-stemmed white roses. They exchanged glances, then she took the flowers. They knew that there was only one person to whom he would ever give a red rose. Mamoru finally spoke. "I'm doing okay, thanks. Everyone's support helps a lot. You two were great tonight! How are you feeling, Haruka?", he asked the driver-turned-pianist. "It was a strain tonight on the back muscles, but otherwise things are going well", she answered. "We think it might be possible for me to walk on crutches by the summer." They talked for awhile, until it was time to go. "Well, thanks for everything, and keep in touch", he finished, as they all headed out the door to their waiting limo. Ami and Makoto were dropped off first. When they were alone, Rei ventured to Mamoru, "I received a letter from Minako today". "How's she doing?", queried Mamoru, interested. "It's hard to say with her, but reading between the lines, I don't think that well. She chose acting over volleyball, and is now having a hard time getting parts. I guess the talent is pretty glutted down in Hollywood. She mentioned that she was doing some photo shoots to support herself while she waits for some parts. Oh, and Artemis sends his love. I get a bad feeling about it, but can't pin it down." "Well," responded Mamoru, "Minako's a big girl. I think she and Artemis can take care of themselves. Well, here's the temple. Have a good night." Mamoru watched Rei's retreating back until she was safely in the temple. Now for home, and sleep. He had a long day ahead tomorrow. Still, he thought, it had been nice to get out with everybody. Everyone seemed to be adjusting to life again. He could only pray it would continue. * * * On the other side of the globe, a girl was arguing with her cat. While talking to your cat might be construed as normal by most people, hearing the cat talk back was definitely not! Of course, as the girl talking to her cat was Minako, a.k.a. Sailor Venus, it was quite normal for her cat to talk. He was, after all, magical. The cat might as well have given up, because winning an argument with Minako was next to impossible. Right now, though, he was giving it his best shot. "I can't allow you to do this, Minako", he stated. "I'm your guardian, and this is wrong." "Hah, wrong Artemis!", she crowed. "You WERE my guardian. I'm twenty- two years old now, and a legal adult with a mind of my own." "Then why don't you use it!", he snapped. "You may be twenty-two, but I'm STILL much older than you, and I have more knowledge of the world than you do. What do you think Usagi would..." "Can it, Artemis!" She cut short his expostulations. "Don't start bringing up Usagi with ME! I knew her better than you, and I don't want you dragging her name into conversations just for your benefit! Now listen, and listen good! Let's go over the facts." "Fact One - I'm running out of money, and need some to pay the rent by the end of the month or I'm out on the street. Fact Two - acting positions are hard to come by, with four hundred actresses auditioning for every part that comes up. I've been turned down eighteen times in the past five months, so I'm not likely to get a job in the next week. Fact Three - I've been offered twenty-five thousand dollars plus perks just to pose for a few pictures. I'm a natural model, so it will be a piece of cake. If you put the facts together, the conclusion is I go for the job." "You're not just posing for a few pictures, Minako. You're posing for a few pictures with your clothes off", said Artemis, stressing the last four words. "Oh Artemis, don't be such a prude!", she scolded. "Pretty well every actress in Hollywood has posed for Playboy, but not too many of them were Playmate of the Month! It will be another ticket to stardom. If I make Playmate of the Year, the sky's my oyster!" Artemis winced at the malapropism. She continued, "Besides, I'm the Senshi of Love and Beauty, right? So this is natural. Who's more beautiful than me?" She winked at Artemis over the last few words. Artemis knew when he was beaten. He went and sulked in a corner, while Minako hummed around the kitchen getting dinner ready. She opened a can of tuna and set it down beside the counter. "Here, kitty", she teased. "Come and get it!" Artemis could never stay angry at Minako for too long. He was secretly in love with her, and would follow her to the ends of the earth. He managed to mumble out "What will Luna think of me?" "Luna won't think anything, because Luna won't know!", rejoined Minako. "Neither of us will tell her, so that's that." Artemis spent the rest of the evening in sullen silence. Six weeks later, Minako brought home a glossy-covered magazine. It was the April edition of Playboy magazine. She showed it to Artemis. On the cover was a picture of her kneeling on a sandy beach. She was dressed in kneepads and a strategically placed volleyball. The banner read "Playmate of the Month - Aino Minako". "Ta da!", she announced. "Whaddaya think ? I'm famous!" Artemis could only shake his head, sadly. He had not known how he would really feel about the pictures. Now, he knew. It was like a stake being driven through his heart. "Minako", he replied slowly, "I think I need a few days vacation to think about things. You'll be all right, won't you?" "Silly cat!", she cried, bending down and picking him up to cuddle him. "Of course I'll be all right. You'll see that this will be the best career move I've ever done!" She held him for a few minutes, before he wriggled out of her arms, and slipped through the window. To herself she whispered, "Oh Artemis, please forgive me". She stared at the open window for a very long time. * * * Ami was getting smashed. There were other ways of putting it, she thought, but that was the essence of it. She was getting smashed. It had been Makoto's idea of getting together to remember Usagi's birthday. The girls hardly saw each other anymore, and she thought it would be a good reason for socializing. What Mako-chan failed to consider, though, were the persons involved. Trying to get Rei to loosen up was impossible, and she, herself, least of all, wanted to remember the circumstances of Usagi's death. Drinking usually helped assuage the pain. Mamoru had turned down the invitation, like he usually did. Now Rei was sitting at the table in the bar, staring straight into the drink left almost untouched over the last two hours, while Makoto was busy flirting with a guy on the dance floor. Ami saw Makoto's cigarettes lying on the table, and decided to light one. "Ami", asked Rei, "since when do you smoke?" "I don't", she replied. "I just decided to try it." She hacked a few times on the first puff, and the cigarette dropped on the floor. "Whoops!", she said, giggling. "Ami, you're drunk", stated Rei, flatly. She gave Ami a rather disgusted look. Before the conversation could continue, Makoto walked over to the table, with a tall, rugged-looking man in tow. "Hi guys", she said, picking up her purse, cigarettes and lighter. While she dropped the latter articles into her handbag, she continued, "Tanaka and I are gonna split". She gave them a knowing wink. "See ya later!" "Hhmph!" snorted Rei, watching their retreating backs. "Looks like this party's over. Come on Ami, let's get you home." She guided a decidedly tipsy Ami to her car, and helped her in the passenger side. She turned the ignition, and as she was backing up, mentioned, "That Makoto - still boy crazy after all these years. One of these days she's going to take the wrong one home. And she was half looped to begin with. Oh, and Ami, try not to throw up in my car." Rei switched on the radio in time to hear the tail end of a news flash. "... it is not known yet the extent of the Iraqi counter-attack. Again, I repeat, the Israeli armed forces have launched a pre-emptive strike against Iraq's nuclear weapons build-up. So far, the United States of America and the European nations are staying neutral in the conflict. Retaliatory bombs have been reported landing in Jerusalem. We will keep you posted as the news happens..." Rei flipped the radio off, sobered by the news. In the quiet afterwards, she heard Ami mutter, "Things fall apart; the center cannot hold". "What's that?", queried Rei. "William Butler Yeats", replied Ami, rather drunkenly. "He wrote a poem about the millennium: 'anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned'". "Geez Ami, you sound like a book even when you're hammered", remarked Rei. She helped Ami out of the car and up the stairs to her apartment. "It's real, Rei. 'The best lack all conviction, the worst are full of passionate intensity'. It's the end of the world. There's no Sailor Moon to save us this time." "Not yet it isn't. Now sleep it off, Ami. I'll see you later." She drove home, wondering if Ami was somehow right Chapter 3 - Bellatrix Temporis "If anyone tries to take the masks off the actors when they're playing a scene on the stage and show their true natural faces to the audience, he'll certainly ruin the whole play..." "Actors come on wearing their different masks and all play their parts until the producer orders them off the stage, and he can often tell the same man to appear in a different costume, so that now he plays a king in purple and now a humble slave in rags" - Erasmus, "The Praise of Folly" "The bright sun was extinguish'd... ...and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air..." "The habitations of all things which dwell, Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed..." "...The world was void, The populous and the powerful--was a lump, Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless-- A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay. The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still, And nothing stirred within their silent depths... The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon their mistress had expir'd..." - George, Lord Byron, "Darkness" Minako was having a ball. For three months she had been feted and toasted, invited to countless parties, and had lived the high life in Hugh Hefner's mansion. She was never at a loss for dates, but drew the line at becoming a sexual playtoy. She had been approached many times about sexual liaisons, but had never been pressured into any. The only problem had been the schedule. Three months of festivities and late nights every evening had started to make her tired and irritable. That had changed recently, though. Minako had been at another party, when another playmate had approached her... "Mina!", a soft, friendly voice cried. Minako turned around to see who was calling. There, coming toward her through the hanging ferns, was Josephine, Miss June. She was a tall, vivacious brunette, with amply endowed features and an expressive smile. She and Minako had become almost inseparable, two kindred spirits, both of them being exuberant, kind and friendly people. "Hi Josie", she said, returning both the greeting and the smile. "What's happening? You seem quite energetic tonight. I just feel really tired." Josie dug into her purse, and unwrapped a piece of paper. "Here, like, try this", she suggested, shoving the contents under Minako's nose. Minako eyed the small heap of white powder dubiously. "What's this?", she asked. "I've never taken drugs." "Oh, it's just a pick-me-up, a little cocaine, you know? Everybody in Hollywood does it. It makes you feel like, more energetic. It's not physically addictive like heroin or crack, you know? Like I just take some now and again when I'm feeling run down. You look it, right now, and that's not how us love goddesses are supposed to look, you know?" "What do you do with it?" asked a still not convinced Minako. "Just, like, sniff it, you know? Here", she cried, almost shoving it up Minako's left nostril. Minako involuntarily breathed it all in, and immediately sneezed. She recovered after a few minutes, wiping the tears from her eyes and blowing her nose. "You're right", she said. "I feel great! Let's go get'em!" She linked arms with Josephine and headed back into the milling crowd. That had been three weeks ago. Minako had been snorting a little cocaine every night, and it had made a world of difference. Sure, it had cost her a little in the pocketbook, but it was worth it, She was a star! One of the security guards came up to her. "Mr. Jones wants to see you in his office", he announced gruffly, tapping her on the shoulder. "I'll escort you myself." This puzzled Minako. Mr. Jones was the manager of the estate, handling all the business affairs. He was rarely seen, and nobody knew much about him. The guard led her down through a series of lushly carpeted corridors, finally pausing at an impressive-looking oaken door. He rapped twice. "Come in", she heard. The guard opened the door, ushered her inside, and closed it again behind her. She was alone in the room with the mysterious Mr. Jones. He was a thin man, middle-aged, with dark hair and a crumpled face. He sat in an opulent chair, behind a large desk. He spoke. "Miss Aino. I will get to the point. It is time for you to leave these premises. We have paid you good money, and put you up at our expense for three whole months. We have introduced you to many important contacts in the film business. But we are not a charity. It is time for some new blood, some fresh faces. Tom outside will escort you to your room, where you can pack. He will then drop you off at your old apartment. Good day." Minako was stunned. She stood there, her brain not registering the words. The door opened behind her, and the guard came in to fetch her. She followed along numbly. She knew that her stay was temporary, she just had not been prepared so soon. At least Artemis would be glad to see her, she thought. At that thought, she smiled. * * * The nightmares came regularly, if she let them. During the day, it was not so bad, as she had her work to occupy her mind. But at night... At night, Ami had time. Time to think. And think she did. Thinking had always been Ami's main occupation. It had allowed her to achieve all the successes in her life. Her accelerated doctorate, her tactical analyses of the senshi's enemies - everything had been achieved with her superb brain. So now she thought. She thought about a blonde-haired woman who had trusted her with her life. A woman who was supposed to be the saviour of the world. Would have been, if she hadn't killed her. At night, when she closed her eyes, Usagi's blank eyes stared accusingly back at her. You failed, they whispered. You failed. The one thing that Ami had always dreaded was failure. With success came expectation, and with expectation came pressure, the pressure to perform. So she performed. And always wondered how she would cope if she ever failed. So she never did fail. Except in the fight against Queen Beryl. And in the fight with Galaxia. But she was not a fighter, so they could be excused. Others had failed with her. But in the delivery room, in her chosen field, she had come up short. And now the world would die. She could see it starting already. The nuclear destruction of Israel and Iraq had caused, among other things, a cool summer as the nuclear ashes from the destruction of cities and oil refineries spread across the skies of the northern hemisphere. The world, already aghast at the catastrophe in the Middle East, waited to see if even this 'small' nuclear exchange would create a nuclear winter. The relief among the nations was palpable when it was narrowly averted, although the falling temperatures wrecked the Asian rice crop, forcing China and Japan to introduce grains into their diets as a staple food. The wheat and corn had to be imported from Canada and the United States, and resentment towards America grew as prices soared through the roof, and people went hungry. This minor test of the nuclear winter theory confirmed most of the leading scientists' fears, promising dire straits if a nuclear conflict were to ever conflagrate the globe. Rei had come over shortly after, popping in on her as she did periodically to all the remaining senshi, a roving ghost who could never again find rest. She had come to ask Ami to explain the whole nuclear winter theory to her. Ami was impatient to get rid of her, as she wanted nothing more than to get at the bottle of whiskey waiting by her bedside. But Rei was Rei, and it was no more than her due, so Ami acquiesced. Through her career, she had grown adept at explaining new concepts to people in a simplified matter. She started with the basics. "How is the world heated?", she asked, as she set a glass of water by Rei's side, and sank down into a chair. Rei answered, "By sunlight." "Right. So you take the amount of sunlight hitting the earth, subtract a small fraction for the amount deflected back into space by the atmosphere, and what is left over heats the earth. What do you think the average temperature is on earth, taking into account day and night, summer and winter, equator and the poles?" "I don't know, ten degrees?", guessed Rei. "Close. Thirteen degrees Celsius. Now, if you actually calculate what it should be, you get minus twelve degrees Celsius, a difference of a staggering twenty-five degrees. Where does the extra heat come from?" "Does it come from something called the greenhouse affect?", asked Rei. "Exactly", said Ami. "The heat is radiated back into space on an infrared wavelength. The water vapour and other gases in the atmosphere allow the sunlight through, but trap much of the radiation, keeping in the heat, and raising the temperature of the earth's surface, making it livable. We saw this summer a drop in temperature due to a tampering with the greenhouse effect that averaged one degree across the planet. That was enough to cause three nights of frost and kill most of the world's rice crop, which is why we're now eating all this bread." She took a sip of water to moisten her throat, then continued her lecture. "As you can see, any change in the delicate balance we've achieved can have severe effects on the planet. Now, the theory is, during a nuclear war, you get vast quantities of soot, smoke and dust ejected high into the atmosphere. We've seen this to some extent with the Middle East Holy War. These particles, moving laterally, spread quickly across the globe, blocking the sunlight coming from space. This lowers the earth's temperature. The earth then radiates less heat to be trapped, causing a second cooling. This is called an inverse green house effect. A full- scale nuclear war could cause temperature drops by as much as twenty-five degrees. Five degrees would be enough to kill off almost all food staple crops in the world. Ten to fifteen degrees would be enough to bring in a new Ice Age. Twenty-five degrees would probably destroy all life on the earth's surface." "Of course", she continued wryly, "there would also be the side effect of massive nuclear fallout, deadly rays from the destroyed ozone layer killing micro-organisms and stopping photo-synthesis, and the diseases spread from the rotting corpses of a billion unburied bodies. Not that we'd be around to see it, anyway", she added, "Tokyo would probably get destroyed in the first round of attacks." Rei stood up, reeling, her psychically enhanced senses suddenly assaulted by an intense vision of one billion screaming voices. "Oh my God". She felt like she would be sick. "Rei, I didn't mean to upset you", a concerned Ami interjected. "It's okay Ami, it's not your fault. I just have a bad feeling that we need Usagi desperately, and now she's not here. I'll be all right, but I think I'll go now." Ami sat there, stunned, Rei's unintentional accusation a slam into her guts. All the guilt came back, intensified. She got up, and shakily closed the door after Rei. She would need more than her customary half bottle tonight. * * * Another New Year had come and gone. Makoto sat morosely at her kitchen counter, drinking her cup of morning coffee, and staring moodily through the windows of her restaurant. There would not be much lunchtime traffic today, not that there ever really was lately. The increased price of wheat had pushed the prices of her noodle dishes beyond the reach of the ordinary lunchtime diner, and rice was an expensive scarcity. Lately, she had cut back on her prices, hoping to stimulate some interest at the expense of margin, but the net result was leaving her poorer than before. She was lucky to have Ukyo. Ukyo was a successful Tokyo businessman. Larger and more aggressive than most Japanese, he had done particularly well in the North American market. Ten years older than her, he was assured, worldly, and physically attractive. He had chanced across her one day when he had stopped in for lunch. They had started getting together when he was in town, and the relationship soon became physically intimate. They were both karate buffs, but she was no match for him, at least in her untransformed state. They would get together in the evenings, when they could both snatch time away from work. She remembered their first workout. She had changed into her gi, and walked into his private gymnasium. He had bowed to her, ritually, then they had fought. Makoto was used to being the toughest. She had never backed down from anybody, and used a combination of speed, skill and strength to batter down her opponents' defenses. Ukyo was a special challenge. Big, almost beefy, but well-toned, he was a lot stronger than her. His karate training far exceeded her battle-won knowledge, enhanced by only a few years' formal training. She seemed to have a little edge in speed, but it was not much. She immediately attacked with ferocity, all fists and forearms, trying to batter down his defenses. He deflected them effortlessly, warily circling away, then launched his own counter-attack. Taken aback by his skill, she blocked or dodged most of them, but took a bruising shot to the ribs, and a ringing kick to her head. His blows were heavy, and hurt. She used more caution now, sparring, and trying to slip in a punch past his defenses. He blocked them all. Every now and then he would unleash his own offensive, and while she blocked most of them, a few would get through. Soon, her body hurt all over from the punches she'd taken. Her pride would not let her stop, and he kept on hurting her, wearing her down. At last, her hands dropped wearily, and he knocked her flat on her back with another kick to her head. As she lay there, stunned, he pinned her to the mat, and untied her belt. She watched unresistingly as he removed her clothes, and began to caress her bare flesh. She felt a thrill as this handsome, virile man laid claim to her defeated body, and during the lovemaking experienced the first orgasm she had ever achieved in her life. Since then, they would spar whenever they had the chance, with always the same results. Could it be normal, she thought? Do normal people get a sexual thrill out of being beaten up? She had thought of discussing it with Ami, but there were some areas with Ami upon which you just couldn't touch. She thought of Rei, and snorted. She sometimes doubted if Rei had a libido in her body, if there was room for anybody inside that heart of hers except for herself. She thought Minako would understand, or at least pretend to. She missed her. All those times when the two of them would try to get dates, and fail. Her reverie was broken by heavy footfalls. Ukyo entered the room, in an ugly mood. He had drunk too much sake the night before, and was nursing a little hangover. He walked over to where she sat, placed his hands around her waist, and said, "I need a little morning loving." "Uh, not now Ukyo, I'm kind of sore from last night still", replied Makoto, uneasily. "Well that's too bad", he sneered. "I'm the one that's been footing the bill for most of this joint's expenses, and I think I'm entitled to a little gratitude." "Oh, I know, honey", she tried soothing him. "It's just not the right time. How about tonight? I have to get ready for the lunch crowd and..." She got no further as he backhanded her out of the chair and against the wall. He quickly pounced on her, ripping off her clothing as she struggled futilely against his strength. A few karate smashes into her biceps numbed her limbs, and she helplessly had to endure his assault. As her body responded in arousal, despite her best efforts, she moaned in shame. The rest was a haze of pain and pleasure. When he left her, she cleaned herself up, got dressed, and started setting out the kettles for the soup. It was going to be another long year. * * * Six months after her expulsion from the Playboy mansion, Minako was broke again. She had started to get a few offers for roles, most of them sleazy or exploitive. She had accepted a few of the less questionable, but still cherished the hope of a real breakthrough. Her major stumbling block was her cocaine habit. It was getting expensive. Minako was one of those people with an addictive personality. Everything she did, she did wholeheartedly and with gusto. Her drug habit was no exception. When the money was coming in, she was snorting cocaine daily. Now the money was short, she was finding it tougher and tougher to maintain her supply. She had not had a fix in a week, and she was getting frantic. She had decided to visit her supplier and see what she could arrange. She breezed through the door of the talent agency, and approached the receptionist. Putting on her best smile, she asked to see Mr. Valucci. The receptionist pressed a button. "Miss Aino to see you, sir." She listened for a moment through her headset, then said to Minako, "You can go right in". Minako smiled in gratitude and almost rushed past the front desk. Passing through a connecting door, she hurried down the corridor to the second door on the left and opened it. Gino Valucci looked up from his desk. "Ah, Minako my child, glad to see you!", he beamed, rising from his chair and walking around his desk to take one of her hands in his two own. He noticed the telltale signs of a frantic drug user, and smiled to himself. Gino Valucci was not an unhandsome man. He wore the fake smile, curly moussed hair, and the perfect tan of a top-rate con artist or used-car salesman. He was snake oil and charm. He ran a free talent agency for former Playboy models. His real income came from other sources. Now he intended to exploit another individual. "Mr. Valucci", began Minako uncertainly. "I need some more cocaine." "Of course you do", he smirked. "Do you have the money?" "No I don't," replied Minako, blurting out "but I should be getting some soon." She looked plaintively up into his face. "Minako, Minako", he shook his head reprovingly. "I run a business." "I know you do, but I'm good for it", she pleaded earnestly, giving her most winsome smile. "It's bad business to make an exception", he told her. He turned his back and seemed to think about it for a minute. Then, as if coming to a decision, he strode to a drawer, yanked it open, and produced a handful of packets containing a white powder. He fanned them before her eyes. "I've got a week's worth of drugs here. You can have it, on one condition. I want you to do something for me." "Yes!", she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up in fervour at the sight of the drugs. "Anything!" "I've seen you act on the screen. You're beautiful. I want you." "I don't understand", replied Minako, thinking that she understood only too well. "Your body. I want to sleep with you. Just once, and all these pretty looking drugs are yours. Or should I put them back?" he suggested, turning back towards the drawer. "No, wait!", she cried. She had the trapped feeling that she would be giving in as soon as her brain produced a rationalization. It would be just one more secret to keep from Artemis. * * * It was a gorgeous summer day in suburban Tokyo. It was one of those days where the gentle humming of a distant lawnmower mixed with the sweet smell of newly-cut grass, the air was sunny and still, and children could be faintly heard, laughing, at a nearby playground. Michiru was out in the garden, watering the plants, while Haruka was inside practising the piano. Two summers had passed since Usagi's death. The shadow of winter had lifted, and the world was in peace again after the horror of the Middle East War. Haruka doubted the peace would last, but fighting battles was beyond her now. She battled daily just to be able to do the little things, like piano playing. Playing the piano caused her intense physical pain, but she dealt with it. She had always been tough. Her concert recitals were going nicely, and though she had not progressed much further physically, she felt like a full member of the team again. She was looking forward to today. Mamoru and Rei were bringing over little Usagi. She was a very assertive child, strong on her legs, beginning to talk, and with a conviction that she could get whatever she wanted. She was also extremely cute. She could wrap her Daddy around her little finger, and Michiru and Haruka weren't much tougher opposition. 'Ruka was what she called Haruka, and she could always make her smile. If Rei wasn't around so much, to curb her wiles, she would have been thoroughly and utterly spoiled. Her musings were arrested in midthought. Although she did not know it, her body had suddenly stiffened. Her breathing started to come in loud, laboured groans, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Next, her body started to shake uncontrollably. Foam started to spew from between tightly compressed lips. Oblivious to the world, she started shrieking through her closed mouth, her body jackknifing, and banging her head on the piano. Over and over she thrashed, gashes appearing in her head, while her head repeatedly struck the keys. Her cries cut off, and her face started to turn blue as oxygen failed to reach her brain, cut off by her tongue stuck in her throat. The discordant piano notes played a ghastly accompaniment to the macabre dance. Which is how they found her. Rei had rushed in, alarmed by the noises emanating from the house, clearly audible when Mamoru had shut the car off. She recoiled in horror, then swiftly ran to the piano and grabbed Haruka. "Mamoru, keep Chibi-Usa out of here, and call and ambulance!" she yelled, as she tried to restrain Haruka's jerking body. Michiru burst in the room a few seconds later to help. Rei felt the stronger girl take over, and as Michiru wrestled Haruka to the ground, Rei pried open Haruka's jaws. She ran her hooked finger over the back of Haruka's throat, and dislodged the tongue stuck there. Haruka began to breathe in large, hoarse rasps as her respiratory system kicked in. Still unconscious, she subsided in Michiru's arms. For the rest of her life, Rei would never forget that day, and the sight of Haruka in Michiru's embrace as the ambulance attendants arrived to take her to the hospital. Two days later, the worst news they could imagine came in. The oxygen deprivation that Haruka's brain experienced had damaged many brain cells. She would be a vegetable for the rest of her life. And as another year went by, the senshi withdrew upon themselves, until that fateful day in summer next. * * * Minako stood on the street corner, looking for her next trick. She only needed one more customer, and she would have enough money to get her next hit. She would have to endure the four she needed to do for her pimp after that, but she could dream about her fix then. Not much was left of her once firm, lush body. Her pallid skin clung to her emaciated frame. Her legs showed too thin in the black miniskirt she wore, and the red vinyl halter covered scant amounts of her scrawny body. She did not read the papers anymore, only slept and worked and injected her drugs. Thus, she was unaware of the Chinese invasion of Taiwan, and the talk of retaliation by the United States of America. High heels clicked up behind her. She turned in irritation, noticing first the kneehigh black leather boots, and scandalously short black miniskirt of the other woman. This was supposed to be HER turf. Then she noticed the red bow on the woman's chest and the glowing staff. Riding on her shoulder was Artemis, her long forgotten white cat. "S-Sailor Pluto?", she croaked. "Here", replied Pluto, handing some items to her. "A plane ticket to Tokyo, five hundred dollars, and some drugs to get you through. I need you at the Tokyo Tower by three o'clock tomorrow. Don't forget to bring Artemis", she added, handing him down to Minako. As Minako stood there, stunned, Pluto turned on her heel and vanished through one of her ubiquitous green portals. * * * Ami was at home after having been let out of Detox. She had shown up at work the week before, in the grip of delirium tremors, ranting and raving. Her mother had sent her to emergency, where they discovered a potentially lethal amount of alcohol in her body. She was immediately transferred to the detoxification centre, where she was watched over by trained staff until her DT's disappeared. A day of education followed. "You are an alcoholic, Ami", stated the doctor. "You will always be an alcoholic. The next drink could kill you. It doesn't matter whether it is five days or five years from now, the next time you drink could be the last. We have lots of counselling available. Also, there is a chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous near you. I am releasing you, of course, but I strongly advise you to attend the AA meeting tomorrow. I will have somebody pick you up." She had ignored the advice, not caring whether she lived or died anymore. The morning paper was full of the news that the United States of America had declared war on China. Some sort of devastation was inevitable, so she might as well have one last good drunk before the big bang. It hit her like a load of bricks. She retched, shuddered, then raced towards the bathroom. She almost made it. She was lying there in misery, face in the toilet, when out of the corner of her eyes she noticed a pair of black boots six inches from her head. She looked weakly up at Sailor Pluto. "Ami, I need you at the Tokyo Tower by three o'clock today. I'll try to make amends to you then. Don't be late." Ami stared after the vanishing Sailor Pluto. She was trying to figure out if this was just another fantasy from her delusional mind. Ten minutes later, she noticed the bootprint in the vomit on the bathroom floor. Jolted out of her reverie, she scrambled to get ready. * * * Rei was at Mamoru's, updating him on the latest news of Ami. He was staring at the newspaper, and the blaring headlines that foretold doom. His daughter was having her late morning nap. They looked at each other, levelly. "You know what this means?", asked Mamoru. His voice had gone husky. "Yes", whispered Rei. Mamoru stood up, and held Rei's hands in his. He noticed again, as he always did as though it were the first time, her beauty. Wide sensuous lips, challenging eyes, lustrously black hair, slim, imperious body, and the diabolus that lurked at the corner of her mouth, unbottled like a genie at command. Her worldliness had always been a counterpoint to Usagi's innocence, and they had shared something at one time, but he was not a cad, and Usagi had always been the woman for him. He had entertained thoughts in his head over the last three years, but had suppressed them as unworthy. Did it matter, now that the world was ending? Rei thrilled to his touch. His sapphire eyes, gazing down at hers, held that maddeningly superior tinge to them, as if he was born to command. His virile body was charged with energy, like a panther coiled to spring. He held that magnetism that attracted women through time and space, and he had loved her once. She had often wished it could be again. "I wish...", they both began, simultaneously, then stopped. "Rei", Mamoru tried again, his voice coming hard through his throat. "Since Usagi died, there has never been anyone else. Now, though, at the end of things, do you think she would begrudge this?" "No", she replied, "no, I don't think she would. She always had a great heart." She interlaced her hands behind his head, and drew him down to kiss her. They were interrupted by the door opening. Sailor Pluto stood there, dressed to kill in uniform and staff. "Kids", she almost snorted, "there's no time to play. I need you at the Tokyo Tower in three and a half hours. The world is ending, and we have to do something about it." Mamoru disentangled himself from Rei's embrace. "You!", he challenged. "Who the hell are you to come storming in here and giving me orders?". His body was rigid with suppressed anger and tension. "You are the Prince of the Earth, though you do not yet know it", calmly answered Pluto. "It is time to assume your mantle. Not all need be lost. Be at the Tower in three hours and see. Or stay here and die." Before Mamoru could frame a retort, she slammed her staff on the apartment floor and stepped through a conveniently opening portal. Mamoru looked at Rei. "I'll get Chibi-Usa up. We'll see what she wants." He turned and entered the bedroom, leaving a slightly bewildered Rei standing there. * * * A green glow filled Hotaru's hospital room. Except for her hair, she looked the same as Pluto had last left her, three years ago. For the first time, she felt an amelioration of her guilt. She was glad that she had decided not to kill Sailor Saturn. She would be needed at some point in the next six hundred years. The Messiah of Silence to end the Silence - how fitting. She picked her sleeping form up, and cradled her tenderly in her arms. Back in Limbo, she deposited Hotaru by the Time Gate. She opened the temporal stasis chamber that she would no longer need, and laid her gently in the tomb-like enclosure. She remembered her reawakening of Sailor Saturn, six centuries hence. The thought made her think, for the last time in her long life, about the strange role of tense in the language of Temporal Physics. The future was a promise for both of them. She had no time to muse, however. Uranus and Neptune were next, thought Pluto. Now that she had hidden Saturn safely away, where she could not menace the earth for centuries, she must get busy again. She had to hurry though, as Jupiter was going to need her. She sighed. Being a Time Guardian was not easy. * * * Michiru was playing the violin when Pluto arrived. She had seen the flames and the frost in her mirror. She had painted it, in two horrific pictures, for Haruka. One, had a city engulfed in flames. The other, silent glaciers covering the planet. She knew they had produced a reaction in Haruka, as she had tried to mumble something, and her eyes moved. People had always chided her for her seeming passivity, but she never minded. She did what was needful, and enjoyed what she could along the way. It had been a good ride, and she still loved Haruka. Now she played a song for Haruka, one she had written over the last year, in Dorian mode. It encapsulated their life, bright and lively and masterful, full of war, now quiet and placid, then bittersweet like tears. At times, her violin sounded like two. It was perhaps the most masterful piece ever written for violin, but would now go unheard throughout eternity. She knew, too, when Sailor Pluto entered the room. She kept her waiting while she finished her song, the last notes trailing off so sweetly that it took all of Pluto's efforts to keep her eyes dry. "Sailor Neptune", greeted Pluto. "Sailor Pluto", nodded Michiru. "It's the end of all things, isn't it?" "An end, and a beginning. Which would you be part of?" "The end", emphatically stated Michiru. Pluto was startled. "We have fought the good fight. Now, Uranus lies helpless, and I have accomplished all I can, or am likely to do. The ending will be a gift of grace." "What", slowly answered Pluto, "if I told you that I could offer a grace so overwhelming as to assuage all griefs? A new beginning, with Uranus strong again by your side?" "I would think you lied." "Today, of all days, I am strong enough to encompass it," she stated, in what Michiru thought incredulously was a tear-filled voice. She looked, but Pluto had already composed herself. "The world ends at three o'clock today", Pluto continued in a matter of fact voice. "So what have you got to lose? Bring Haruka, and meet me at the Tokyo Tower before then." Michiru nodded, then turned her back on Pluto, walking towards Uranus. She did not bother to watch Pluto leave. * * * This was the day, Makoto had decided. She had had enough. She would gather the remnants of her pride, and kick Ukyo out. It looked as if another, larger nuclear war would take place, and she might not live through it. At least she would go with the vestiges of dignity. She was waiting for him when he came in. She had already packed his bags, and had piled them at the kitchen door. Now she spoke to him. "Get out!" Two words, but her clenched fists and battle-ready posture spoke volumes. "You silly bitch!", he sneered. "I haven't finished with you. Don't you know the world is ending? There are things we still haven't done yet!" "Get out!", she repeated. "We're through." "Oh no", he replied, "I'm not done with you. But you'll wish I was. Do you hear the looting outside? It seems some bombs are headed to Tokyo as we speak. So it's time to have my long-delayed fun." From behind his back he pulled out a shortbladed sword, a ninja-to, and advanced quickly towards her. Makoto realized this had gotten way too serious. She grabbed her henshin wand out of the folds of her robe and held it aloft. At that moment, the sword blade entered her unprotected torso. She staggered back in pain, as he ripped the blade out and grinned at her. Somehow, she managed to cry out those almost forgotten words, "JUPITER CRYSTAL POWER... MAKE UP!". The ribbons and lights swirled around her, green skirt and pink bow attaching themselves to her magically fabricated white leotard. As he stood, gaping at her, she blew him through the wall and into eternity with a SPARKLING WIDE PRESSURE, about all she could manage at this juncture. She was still lying there, gasping and holding her side when Pluto appeared. Pluto looked down upon Jupiter's supine form, and said simply "You'll live. Now come, we have an appointment." She hoisted the heavy girl over her shoulders, and stepped through a portal to her appointment with destiny. * * * They were all gathered on the highest observation deck of the Tokyo Tower, two hundred and fifty metres above the city. Somehow, each had managed to make it to the rendezvous point. There was nobody else in the building, as everyone had fled home, or to basements, or to churches to pray. The view from here was magnificent, but nobody bothered to look, their attention centred rather on each other. This was in its own way a pity, as the sight would never be seen again. None of the senshi were transformed, with the obvious exception of Sailor Jupiter, and the inscrutable Sailor Pluto. Mamoru held three-year- old Chibi-Usa by one hand, while glaring at the aloof and intimidating figure of Sailor Pluto. A weakly vomiting Ami, doctor's instincts still functioning, was crawling shakily on all fours towards the supine form of the bleeding Sailor Jupiter, who had collapsed scant minutes ago upon arrival. Rei was hugging Minako, while staring in dismay at her unhealthy, anemic figure. The newly reunited Luna and Artemis crouched side by side, off to the side, their tails lashing in helpless frustration. Michiru had turned to Haruka to wipe the drool off her mouth as Haruka vainly tried to whisper incoherent words. Drawing herself to her full, imposing height, Sailor Pluto broke the silence. "King Endymion, senshi", she started, nodding towards Mamoru. All activity ceased, and every eye turned towards her. "Three years ago, some necessary but painful events transpired. As Guardian of Time, I played my part. Now, as the world is being destroyed, my plan has reached fruition, and I must pay my cost." She tossed her Time Staff into the air. The staff did not drop. It hung, suspended, in mid-air. Sailor Pluto raised outstretched hands, and tendrils of raw green power could be seen flowing from her fingertips into the staff. It started to rotate, slowly, then picked up speed like a helicopter blade. Soon, it was spinning in the middle of a green blur, the staff itself no longer visible to the human eye. Eyes popping, and now visibly weakening, Sailor Pluto kept channelling energy into the spinning vortex. It grew in intensity and depth, taking on the resemblance of a portal to another dimension. The watching senshi could just discern a misshapen human form starting to emerge from the portal, when their attention was diverted to Sailor Pluto. Sailor Pluto shrieked, and exploded in a shower of sparks. Rose petals filled the air where she had stood a second ago. The Time Staff shivered into pieces, the Garnet Orb falling to the floor and rolling over to finally stop beside a shocked Luna and Artemis. The rose petals themselves were sucked into the green portal, which then disappeared as the mysterious figure summoned by Pluto coalesced. They all gasped in shock. * * * Launched from a silo deep in the Chinese hinterland, an inter- continental ballistic missile headed for Tokyo, the capital city of Japan, that hedonistic symbol of the insidious disease of Western capitalism. The nuclear weapon was armed with ten nuclear warheads, although one bomb would have been enough to level Tokyo. In military terms, this was called 'redundancy', and it certainly was. Each warhead was a small (in nuclear parlance) two megaton bomb, one hundred and fifty times more powerful than the bomb that levelled Hiroshima. It packed the destructive power of four billion kilos of TNT, the equivalent of all the bombs dropped in the Second World War, inflicted in a mere split second, and confined in an area of about twenty square miles. Ten of these were on their way to Tokyo, and no force on earth could stop them. An observer on the missile would have noticed the traffic jams on the streets below, the abandoned cars and panicky mob of people. Some merely stared fatalistically at the sky, while others futilely tried to hide in deep basements. Their earthly cares were soon ended. On the final approach to the city, the bombs were scattered into a burst pattern designed to give maximum target area coverage. In a scenario being played out over every city in the Northern hemisphere, the nuclear fuses were lit, and rapidly fissioning plutonium provided the necessary energy to start fusion reactions inside the missiles. The energy of the sun was for the first and final time unleashed upon the earth, with devastating consequences. Ten giant fireballs exploded over the city, temperatures at the core of the explosion exceeding forty million degrees Celsius. The light would have been too blinding to look at, if anyone could have observed. This was impossible, however, as the radiation from the explosions traversed the city at the speed of light, instantaneously igniting towering fires in every city block, and flash frying every human in their path. Not even human bones were left, as they were simply incinerated into ash, their forms burned into buildings and pavemarks as charcoal silhouettes. The vacuum caused by the heat of the fireball sucked in copious amounts of debris, dirt, smoke and burning oil, ejecting it high into the atmosphere in a boiling mushroom cloud. Ten of these clouds now dominated what once was Tokyo, towering forty thousand feet above the ruins. Any people unlucky enough not to have been instantly killed in the first nano- second of the explosion, were seconds later sucked bodily into the fiery inferno as if plucked by a giant hand. Their remains would mingle with the nuclear waste that would soon rain down on the surrounding countryside in a deadly black rain to inflict a painful, long-term suffering death on the rural population. Following slowly behind at a leisurely kilometre every three seconds came the shockwave. It pushed down all buildings in its path, starting new fires. One minute after the explosions, twenty million people had ceased to exist, and the city was one massive raging firestorm, visible to any Martians that may have been watching. Buried under the pall of smoke, only one building was left standing in the entire city of Tokyo... Chapter 4 - 'Immutatrix Mundi' "For she was clad in vesture more shining than the flame of fire, and with twisted armlets and glistering earrings of flower-fashion. About her delicate neck were lovely jewels, fair and golden: and like the moon's was the light on her fair breasts..." - Homer, "Hymn to Aphrodite" "Ces serments, ces parfums, ces baiser infinis, Renâitront-ils d'un gouffre interdit à nos sondes, Comme montent au ciel les soleils rajeunis Après s'être lavés au fond des mers profondes?" - Baudelaire, "Le Balcon" She was drifting, unseeing, as in a mist. How long she had been drifting, she did not know. Ten minutes? Ten years? Ten million years? Who could say? Time had no meaning here, where there were no heart beats, no measured minutes, no lifting breaths. Where was here? Again, she had no clue. It was only lately that she had awakened to consciousness, that is the self-reflective thought process that recognizes its own existence. 'Je pense, donc je suis', had said Descartes. Had she known the quote, she may have thought about the corollary, but thinking had never been her strong point. She struggled just to remember herself. She. Herself. These were gender words. Female. How do I know this, she thought? I am a woman. Was a woman. What am I now? Longer reflection pointed to a conclusion; I must be dead. But then, why do I live? Or do I? Confusion set in for an immeasurable time while she pondered existence, and her identity. Yes, the will existed, the thought existed - she existed. And she had been a woman, and she was now dead. But who was she? The effort to think was almost physical, like struggling through molasses. How much time passed, she could not say. Then images started to swim into view, vivid hued and alive, almost palpable. Strong undercurrents shot through them, glimpses of life and death and sorrow, and a great turning cycle of rebirth and love and pain and then, death again. Had she tear glands, she would have wept. There she was cradling a dying man in black armour - Mamoru! Again, more images, the same man lying crumpled beneath a giant tree, on a street of blood, bathed in a glow on an airplane, and always herself bearing the pain, the pain. And as if Mamoru had been the gateway, her memories came flooding back. And oh, how painful and secret they were. The bright thread of her love for Mamoru wove its way through her life like a glittering skein through a tapestry. From a three-year-old Usagi handing a bright red rose to a scared little boy in a hospital room, to another hospital room where she had met her tragic death beside the now grown up man, there was always him, Mamoru, always Mamoru, forever Mamoru, overriding her other images with the relentlessness of true need. Peeping out from behind were glimpses of times that she had not known to be important until now. There was Naru, her dearest friend, her greatest failure, estranged, shunted aside, by a Sailor Moon fighting to save the world with her great love, while denying that same solace to her best friend from childhood. Vexed and exasperated by a suddenly unfathomable and seemingly fickle Usagi, Naru had moved on to her own circle of friends and vanished from her life. The anguish of that betrayal came back to haunt her now. Intertwined with her memories of Naru was the image of Nephlite, an enemy that confounded her fledgling ideas of love and justice. Bound in service to an evil queen, whom he served to the best of his ability, he still found the strength to respond to the pure love of a young girl, and was thus redeemed. This grace was a dispensation not granted by herself, although she could have done so; another failure. Prince Dimando, overmastered by desire, she had not loved. How could she? He had tried to take her away from her destiny, and force his attentions upon her. But in the end, he had died to save her, and that had to be worth something. There was more. There was something so overwhelmingly important that its presence demanded to make itself felt. Her death...the hospital...she had just finished having a... Before she could finish grasping the thought, she sensed another presence. *Mother?*, she sent, wonderingly. her thoughts were shocked out of her reverie to the present. *Here, child*, came the return voice. In her mind's eye, she saw her mother, Queen Serenity, dressed in gossamer, and floating with gauzy wings on a non-existent breeze, that ethereal spirit who had often comforted her in her darkest hours. She was smiling with a mother's love and pride at Usagi. *Darling Usagi*, she addressed her, *we have waited so long for this moment. Millennia of breeding have now been culminated. Do you remember your death?* Her thoughts were dragged bodily back to that moment, against her will, the wounds of time still deeply bleeding within her. *Yes*. *And do you remember Pluto's purpose?* *Dimly*, she replied. *I saw some truth in her mind, but it was hard to comprehend. I trusted her. She said it would save the world.* *Yes*, breathed Queen Serenity. *You made a great sacrifice. I have become a bit of an expert in that field since... my own... a thousand years ago. Pluto taught me well. Do you realize what you did?* *Not really*, thought back Usagi, a bit uncertainly. *The value of a sacrifice*, explained Queen Serenity, *is dependent upon two things; the value of the object sacrificed, and the value of the object saved. You sacrificed the most valuable object you can possibly sacrifice - your life. That in itself generates a tremendous amount of power. Couple with that your sacrifice, made on faith alone that it would save the entire world - there can be no greater object than that. Your existence here is a projection of the vast amount of power thus stored up by your act. I, too, am here because of the power stored when I unleashed the ginzuishou on Queen Beryl and Metallia.* She continued, *Now, that is all well and good to have all this power floating around, but in its raw form it is useless, and it dissipates over time. You are currently a hundred times more powerful than I am, as your sacrifice was made so recently. But this power needs knowledge and wisdom and form to be effective, and usually once we are dead, in the spirit world, we are incapable of acting. However, Pluto has come up with a way to supply a trigger, so all we need to do is shape your power so you can use it.* *We?*, wondered Usagi. *Who is 'we'?* *Every spirit sufficiently powerful to still be around who has given their life in some noble sacrifice. We spirits in our wandering occasionally come into contact with other like-minded spirits, and we have all agreed to lend our aid to you, as foretold by the Jovian prophecies fifty thousand years ago. We will fill you with our power and knowledge. Come, let me join you.* Usagi hesitated. *Fifty thousand years ago?", she demanded incredulously. *Yes child, Pluto wrote those words before civilization even existed on the planet Earth. Let us help.* She was awed. Knowing that she had been prepared for for fifty thousand years was too heavy. But it was impossible to refuse the burden. Too much was at stake for her own opinion to matter. Mentally, Usagi nodded. *Okay, I'm ready*, she lied. *I am your handmaid. Let it be done as you wish.* The first touch on her brain was like a gentle caress. Her mother's mind melded with her own. She could feel the power siphoning into her, as she absorbed her mother's spirit. With it came the entirety of the queen's life, stripped bare for her to see in all its rawness. All her mother's knowledge and experience and pain was there for her to use, if she could only process it. As the link solidified, the images came faster, the mind conduit expanding as if it would fill the entire universe. She saw it all - her mother's secret affair, her own birth, her father's death and betrayal, the gathering of the senshi, the final battle with Metallia. She felt as if she would burst. Her aura was glowing, now from within, the increased power lighting her up like a beacon for all to see. Still reeling from the information overload and the trauma of reliving an entire life, she felt another touch on her mind. This time it was her grandmother, Serenity IV, who died to preserve a Martian colony from alien attack, a catastrophe that prompted the inner planets to create senshi of their own like the outer planets had, in order to protect all future heirs and rulers of the Lunar line. The first meeting of Luna and Artemis, the interdiction of Earth, and the strange fate of the senshi of the asteroid belt impressed themselves on her mind, as her subconscious processed the data of another entire lifetime. After a while, it all became a blur. Life merged into life, until her conscious brain lacked the ability to distinguish details with any clarity. On the earth, in the mundane world, seasons passed, and the world progressed on its way to nuclear destruction, yet still the lives filled her. Lovers she had never known, battles she had never fought, were lived over and over. She was Hero plunging into the waves, Boadicea on a war chariot, Jeanne d'Arc burning on a fiery pillar. All the while, the power and knowledge gathered, illuminating her from within with an intense glow. It was too much, too fast, and she was voicelessly screaming as her identity was stripped away. She no longer knew who she was, she was just a vessel prepared by hopefully benign beings for a higher purpose. A corner of her mind still tried to cling to some sort of identity, she was losing it - and then it was over. The clamour had died down, and the mental silence was deafening. She hung metaphorically in the air, crucified on the cross of love and justice, synapses numbed and senses not functioning. After an interminable pause, her brain began working again. She sifted through the memories, trying to regain her sense of self, and then she felt it. The ginzuishou. Like a beacon calling shipwrecked Ulysses to his beloved Ithaca, the ginzuishou guided her to the memories locked away. Her friends were waiting for her there, their memories all polished and new. There was Ami, shy and diffident, upon whom she could always rely. Minako, brash and confident, the most experienced of their little group in battle. Brave and impulsive Makoto winked at her, her heart as ever on her sleeve. The fiery Rei, her closest friend, was still scoffing at her in her particular display of love. Mamoru in his tux looked devilishly handsome, and she saw her future daughter, Chibi-Usa, and then she remembered who she was and what her purpose was. She would return, Pluto had seen to that, but she would be sterile in her new incarnation. She had learned that from her mother's spirit, a mother who had loved her daughter so fanatically that a thosand years of death was not enough to dim her love. Pluto had been forced to wait until after Chibi-Usa's birth before she could put her plan into action, but by then the world was already about to go up in flames. Pluto had no margin of error. She would return, thanks to Pluto's sacrifice, in glory, with power and wisdom and strength and honour, to rule the world and set things to rights. All she needed was the time to tap the thousand accumulated lifetimes in her head. But she would not get that time. The thousand days she had spent absorbing the thousand lives that filled her had brought the deadline too close. Already the world was about to burn. She felt the call, that little draining from another world, and saw the glowing portal. She drifted towards it, feeling the power of the summoning and the increased desperation of the summoner, and then she was there, and she was through, Sailor Pluto's tortured soul passing her incandescent one, and like the sun she was as she burst into the room, where her friends awaited. * * * Rei was the first to see her clearly. In place of the now vanished portal, there floated scant inches above the ground the most beautiful vision human eyes had ever beheld. She was like in form to an angel, soft feathery wings lightly strumming the air, bathed in a pure golden-white light. The brilliance radiating from her blinded their sight, but Rei's searching eyes made their way past the streaming light and cascading glory to the figure inside. She seemed taller than in her previous life, and fairer of hair and finer of features. Her skin was of alabaster smoothness, and every lineament betrayed grace and surety. The simple white dress gave the impression, not as a cover for nakedness, but a mantle to cloak her puissance and greatness. Raw power fairly oozed out of her, although she was clearly holding it in. Her luminous blue eyes were rounder, and larger, and deeper and clearer than they had ever been. She WAS perfection. Rei saw her look around the room, once, quickly, before she settled down gracefully to the floor. It was too much for Rei. "USAGI !", she shrieked. Mamoru was on his feet now, also, his frame tensed with a fierce eagerness. His loud, whispered "Usako?!" could be heard across the room. His body was straining to reach her, but his feet seemed tied to the floor. Michiru broke the spell. "No. Not Usagi. Serenity." The words echoed like a final sentence. She slumped to her knees, eyes still fixed on Serenity, a look of wondered fear, joy and hope blazing in her eyes. And then SHE spoke. "I am not Usagi." The timbre of that beautiful, rich soprano voice sent a thrilling shiver down Rei's spine. Glancing over at Mamoru, she noticed he too had felt it. Her heart was beating faster, and she felt as if it might pop out of her chest at any minute. "Usagi died three years ago. I am something less, and more. I AM Serenity, Neo-Queen Serenity, and I will rule this world with all the love and wisdom I possess. My friends, let me look at you." Neo-Queen Serenity stopped to look at each person in turn, pointedly ignoring Mamoru and her daughter for now. Just the thought of holding her little daughter again sent shivers of desire and longing through her. Those first few moments would be too private to share. She decided that her first target would be Ami. She sorrowed as she looked at her gentle friend's ragged appearance. She was owed more than most. "Ami", she whispered, stretching out her hand. "Look, and be healed". A flash of light came coruscating out of her hand, appearing to dance briefly on Ami's brow, before being absorbed into Ami's body. Ami saw it all. Relived it all. She saw the birth of Chibi-Usa, her mother watching her, and noticed as she made all the right steps. She saw revealed to her, for the first time, the actions of Sailor Pluto, and with it came the healing benediction of realization. It was not her fault, had never been her fault. The flame of Neo-Queen Serenity's love washed over her, burning away the alcohol poisoning, the dependency, and her self-doubts. A brief second later, in a flash of unexpected pyrotechnics, she transformed into Super Sailor Mercury. She was on her knees now, crying, while Neo-Queen Serenity moved along to Minako. Minako's appearance hurt Neo-Queen Serenity even more than Ami's. The depths into which she had sunk, the sorrow of Artemis, all were easy for her to read. Not ungently, she released her fire. "Minako. Be well." The flaming tongue danced over Minako before being subsumed into her body. The relentless fire burned through her system, cleansing her of her addiction. Neo-Queen Serenity trembled in compassion, as she had experienced the same sensations during her education in the afterlife. To Minako, the cleansing was agony, but she somehow lived through it. Afterwards, for the first time in three years, Minako felt well. Liveliness imbued itself throughout her body. All her doubts and fears were cast away. With it came a healthy flush to her skin, and an involuntary transmutation into Super Sailor Venus. She too, knelt before her queen. Neo-Queen Serenity now transferred her gaze to the bleeding Sailor Jupiter. Her kind heart sank even further. Her progression through her protectors had gone from bad to worse. Pluto, she thought to herself, why didn't you tell me how it would be? Her spirit cried, but her voice said clearly, "Sailor Jupiter, please join me again". Jupiter, true to her nature, fastened eagerly to the waiting spark. She gloried in its strength, gritting her teeth against the pain as her wounds healed. Still weak from a dramatic loss of blood, but running on adrenaline, she raised herself to her knees, where she rested for a while to gaze on the perfection that had been, and still maybe was, her friend. With a slight lift of her wings, Neo-Queen Serenity then glided effortlessly to where Michiru was kneeling beside Haruka's wheelchair. She had never been extremely close to the Outer Senshi, but she knew that they always did their duty to the best of their abilities. She wondered where Sailor Saturn was, and whether Pluto had had plans for her too. Still hovering, she addressed Michiru. "I know you have never asked anything for yourself, but everyone deserves a second chance at happiness. And I will need all your help in the years to come." Her voice changed to a bit of a sharper note. "Sailor Uranus - Arise and walk!", she commanded. Her glow encompassed the pair in an impenetrable opacity. Within the glow, Haruka felt the miracle. Synapses, long forgotten in disuse, fired again as her neural blockage was freed. Vertebrae crackled into place with painful suddenness. Memories, speech, thought, movement, all came to her simultaneously. The pain overwhelmed her. She screamed in agony, and bounded to her feet. The aura around the couple exploded, and Rei could see a whole Super Sailor Uranus weeping and hugging a joyously disbelieving Super Sailor Neptune. They then knelt in homage to their new queen. Rei knew now that never would they question a decision of Neo-Queen Serenity's. She had gained two fanatic servants this day. She shuddered as Neo-Queen Serenity turned to her. "Rei". That was all she said, all that needed to be said. Rei reached out and touched the hand of the vision, of her queen, of her friend. Her piercing eyes made contact with the queen's, her fire dancing up her arm in a mingling of white-gold and orange-red flames. They stood there, as the flames danced over each other like lovers, glances locked. Rei had been searching for some trace of Usagi in those eyes, but all she saw was the deep, compassionate eyes of a stranger with the accumulated knowledge and wisdom of a thousand life times. "Why?", Rei rasped hoarsely. There could, of course, be no answer to that question, and they both knew it. Innocence, once lost, is never recaptured. "Oh Rei, I am so sorry", gently responded Neo-Queen Serenity. She enfolded Rei in her arms, and softly kissed her ruby lips. "Know that I still love you." Rei was trapped by the tenderness. In that kiss she felt the spark of her friend, not quite lost forever. She realized now that she was hopelessly, irrevocably bound to her queen in chains of love. With an act of her own conscious will, she transformed into Super Sailor Mars, and knelt down on one knee. Last of all, Neo-Queen Serenity turned to Mamoru. He still towered over her, even in her new form, and although a bit gaunt with fatigue and strain, he was still impossibly handsome. "Mamo-chan", she said half apologetically, and deliberately using her pet name for him, "it is time for King Endymion." Like a lion unleashed from its cage to feast on a helpless morsel, so did he stride towards her. In midstep he morphed into his rugged black armour, replete with greatsword and booted feet. With two hands he gripped her about the ribcage, picked up her feathery body, and pinned her against the wall. His lips crushed hers with all the pentup passion of three years of loneliness, his body seeking to find the answers he needed in her. Her tinkling laugh rang out merrily. "Endymion, there will be time for play later. Right now I have a greater purpose." She gently disengaged from him, and gazing sorrowfully at the lonely Garnet orb, remembering Setsuna's sacrifice, addressed the gathered senshi. "My friends, right now the world is in the process of destroying itself, and I can not stop that. As I speak, ten nuclear bombs are about to explode right here over Tokyo." The senshi all gasped at that, but she continued serenely. "Thanks to Sailor Pluto, who has given her life for the cause," here she glanced meaningfully at Mamoru and Ami, "I am here to salvage what little we can. I cannot protect the entire Tokyo area from the destructive power of twenty million tons of TNT. I can only protect a small area, about the size of this tower." Rei gasped as the realization hit her. "But, but, that means twenty million people are going to DIE RIGHT HERE!!" She shrieked the last three words out, like an accusation. The other senshi were shocked, whether by Neo-Queen Serenity's words, or by Rei's blasphemy, it was hard to tell. Neo-Queen Serenity looked sadly at Rei. She hated what she had to say. "Yes, Rei, and five billion more across the planet. And I can't stop them. How do you think that makes me feel?" She could feel her control start to slip, but drew on the reserves of her other lives, and reined herself in. She could not afford to lose control now. "I will do what I can do now, and tomorrow work towards what future we can salvage. I will need all your help. Please forgive me?" Numbly, Rei nodded. As if Rei's assent had been her cue, a glow started to emanate from Neo-Queen Serenity. As it engulfed the senshi, they felt the overpowering empathy of the queen enter their systems. The glow increased in intensity until it was a blinding white envelope encasing the tower. A shock wave suddenly rocked the shield, then another, and another. Rei saw the edges of the protective sphere buckle, and sweat start to bead itself on Neo-Queen Serenity's brow. Then Mamoru, no, Endymion, was there, supporting his love. The power of the very earth that was being so ravaged and pummelled was channelled into her body. The senshi needed no further prompting. As one, they rose and formed a circle of joined hands around the royal couple. The strength of their planets infused into their Queen. Outside, blazing firestorms a thousand feet high were raging around the tower. Then, they were silenced. Neo-Queen Serenity slowly pushed the sphere outwards, the flames extinguishing themselves as the shield moved over them towards the city's perimeter. The senshi had long dropped from exhaustion when Neo-Queen Serenity finally sagged back into King Endymion's strong arms. The silence was broken by the clacking of a keyboard. Rei looked over at Sailor Mercury, who, visor down and computer out, was taking readings of the situation. Rei scrambled to her feet and looked out the observation deck over the city. She caught her breath with the fragile beauty of it all. The city's buildings were all levelled, no structures standing more than one story high as far as the eye could see. Above was an impossibly blue sky gleaming through a transparent crystal dome covering the entire city. Beneath it, the ruins had all crystallized into sparkling glass sculptures of impossibly varied shapes. No living things moved. "Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang", quoted Rei. It was hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Sailor Mercury started talking, visor down and eyes glued to her computer screen. "This is amazing. There is no radiation residue at all in the city. I am detecting fragmented human life signs underneath the city, and the refracting crystal overhead is high enough into the atmosphere that it is above all blast debris. It is also redirecting the sun's light into the city to provide heat and warmth. I can get no readings of its make or composition, though." "That's because I am immune to scanning now, Mercury", came Neo-Queen Serenity's voice, "and that dome is a part of me. It is transparent to any human entry or physical attacks, but is strong enough to keep out the weather. There are no longer any weapons capabilities left on earth to destroy it. Those life signs you read are those who were sufficiently underground to escape the initial destruction of the bombs. I have purified them, and they will start to come out of their dwellings and make their way into the palace. We will welcome them, and others will come over the years, and we will welcome and purify them too. In time, we will create a new paradise on earth, with no need for weapons or war. But first, we must pool all our resources, and we have lost another senshi today. An Ice Age is coming to cover the earth, and we have much to do to prepare." Luna spoke up. "Is Sailor Pluto really dead then?" Neo-Queen Serenity bent over and picked the black cat up. "Hello Luna", she said, cuddling her. "I'm afraid so." "But what about the future?", asked a puzzled Artemis. "We've seen her in the future." "Pluto could travel time", she responded, "and did not live linearly. I am afraid she has seen her last wanderings. But we will see her again in the future, before this time has happened for her." "But weren't you dead also? What has happened to you?", asked Sailor Venus. "I'm afraid that right now I can only discuss that with Endymion, Venus", replied Neo-Queen Serenity, gazing at the little daughter so tragically snatched away from her. She knew that she had missed all the first intimate touches between a mother and child, but was anxious to finally reap the rewards for her labour and sacrifice. "Know that your friend Usagi is still a part of me, but I have been through a lot lately and need some time to deal with everything. Could you please excuse us for a while?" "Of course", replied Sailor Jupiter, speaking for the others. The awful fate of the world had shaken her more badly than she could ever have imagined. She had never dreamed that the beautiful Crystal Tokyo they had visited all those years ago had been attained at such a cost. She tried to add some levity to the situation. "Those lovebirds have some serious hanky-panky to get down to!" Her joke failed miserably, but the others nodded their agreement. As they turned to leave, Chibi-Usa left the spot where she had been standing transfixed through all the events and ran up to her father. "Daddy", she asked, tugging on his pant leg, looking with a scared glance towards Neo-Queen Serenity. "Who's that lady?" ** FINIS ** --------------------------------- Special Thanks to Naoko Takeuchi for creating the milieu. To Tim Nolan and Chris Davies, for showing what was possible. To Sherri-Lee Thornton and Ken Wolfe, my prereaders, both talented authors in their own right, for encouragement and support and for sticking with me for two years To Victor Naqvi and Elizabeth Tuckwood, whose invaluable criticisms kept me honest. To the rock group Live, for the genesis of the story. To all fanfic writers everywhere, who keep the torch burning And to all readers out there - we do it for you. John Hitchens, 1997-98 john.hitchens@sympatico.ca