===== Seiji froze for a moment as the taller man charged toward him. Then his training kicked in and he feinted and dodged, only to meet his opponent's knee as it drove into his stomach. With a muffled grunt Seiji turned completely over and landed on his back, staring up at his attacker. "You always were a little too smart for your own good, Seiji." The man's foot caught Seiji in the ribs, sending the smaller man scurrying away, coughing. "Shin!" he gasped. "What--why--" He got to his feet and turned to face the slowly advancing Lander. "Don't insult me," Shin sneered. He stepped forward and pushed his head back, revealing the same face Seiji remembered. A scar ran down his nose, contrasting strangely with the soft, youthful looks. His face seemed expressionless, but his dark eyes were glittering under stringy black hair. Seiji forced himself to think. Shin and Seiji had become Landers at the same time, many months ago. They'd trained together for a time, then left for different assignments. Seiji recalled a certain camaraderie...not friendship by any means, in fact he barely considered Shin an acquaintance. But there must have been something, for him to act like this-- Seiji dodged a left jab, quickly dropping his guard to meet Shin's body blow. The training flashed back on him, dusty afternoons spent sparring with the other man. Seiji threw his own left jab but was already ducking the right cross, shifting his weight to one leg to snap a short kick to Shin's groin. It landed off target but Shin coughed and danced back, rubbing his stomach. Seiji breathed deeply, and flexed his arms. "Still haven't broken those habits?" Focus, he forced his mind to focus. Discipline, focus and anger were the tools of the Lander. The recitation calmed him. "Slippery bastard," Shin spat. Seiji tensed his body, then smiled grimly as Shin quickly tried to orient himself. "So, what's it gonna be? Going to kill me, if you can?" Shin shook his head, and scowled. "I heard you were dead." He raised his eyebrows at Seiji's expression. "I didn't believe it, of course. Not you, the golden boy. But you couldn't just come back after being dead." His eyes burned into Seiji's. "So I made sure everyone knew about the Lander testing ceremony. Everyone who might want to." Seiji stared. "All that work, just for me? Should I be flattered?" Shin bowed his head, and leaned back against the door frame. His body shook for several moments. Then he raised his head, and Seiji realized he was silently laughing. "I guess I was wrong," he gasped softly. "I thought you knew. But I guess not." "...No. Whatever it is, I--" "Doesn't matter." Shin shook his head, pushed away from the wall, and smiled. His skin was pale. "I'll just have to prepare for the next time." Seiji slowly allowed his body to relax. "What, you bringing visual aids?" he called. The other Lander paused in turning toward the door and looked back. "Something like that." Seiji waited until he could no longer hear footsteps, then relaxed back against a table. He reached down and massaged his abdomen gingerly, wincing. ===== Beware the Radish Presents... D A R K T I M E S started by John Evans Chapter 2: Threads written by John Evans ===== The man in black robes swung his hammer, hard, against a bronze gong. A dull, discordant crash echoed through the hall. "And so we give thanks to Majin-sama!" he cried. "Hail, Majin-sama," the assembled crowd of kneeling peasants droned, more or less in unison. The gong struck again, noise bouncing strangely around the dark, cavernous cathedral. "Thanks to he who protects us!" The orator stood on a raised platform, his gong set in front of a cluster of gray-robed figures. As he raised his arms to the sky, those in gray bent their hooded heads in concentration. "Hail, Majin-sama." Many of the 'worshippers' were fidgeting, heat from a hundred densely packed bodies stifling. Another crash. "Thanks to he who provides us our food." There was a subtle stirring, a charge in the air. The metal disk of the gong shone brightly in a single ray of light from above. "Hail, Majin-sama." A burly Lander, his ragged clothes adorned with chains, stepped into the huddled masses and cast his gaze around the room. Much of the fidgeting ceased. The gong sounded again. "Thanks to Majin-sama and the Landers, holding us in their protective embrace." The black-robed man lowered his fiery eyes in piety. "Hail, Majin-sama." A slight stir of anticipation ran through the crowd. After several moments, the priest raised his head, regarding his congregation again. "And now..." His gaze traveled the length and breadth of the crowd as they waited silently. He raised his eyebrows. "A song, performed by our own Lady Marigold." One of the figures in gray stepped forward, in front of the gong, pushing the hood back from her face. A young woman, soft-featured, with large eyes and short brown hair. The crowd murmured to itself. "I would like once again to sing with you of the joy of life," the woman said, words reaching clearly, effortlessly to every watcher. "Let us all give thanks for what we have." Her luminous eyes unfocused, and the song began. It was an old song, old enough for the meaning of the words to be forgotten, but not the spirit. The audience was rapt. Even the priest's features softened as the music filled the hall. Soon, other voices joined the song, though never loud enough to drown her out. She closed her eyes and smiled as she sang. ===== Reiko pulled back from the window and rolled her eyes. "Bunch of easily led sheep," she muttered. Creeping away from the wall, she picked her way back among the dusty piles of ancient junk. "Halt!" Reiko froze, adrenaline stabbing into her veins. Slowly, she turned. Two Landers stood nearby, a big hulking one and a small arrogant one. "Shirking our sacred duties?" the short(er) Lander sneered. "Got something better to do? Or perhaps you're one of those who doesn't *like* our dear Majin-sama?" Reiko took a deep breath and envisioned the emotion draining from her face. In its place she set what she hoped was an obsequious simper. "I'm sorry, sirs, but I'm a Technician," she replied. Making no sudden movements, she pulled a card from the pocket of her brown work shirt and held it up. "I came for part of the ceremony, but I really have to work on some repairs for one of Majin-sama's lieutenants..." The Lander's eyes widened, slightly. He scowled and reached for the card, but she pulled it back. "Bitch!" he growled, sending her heart rate up even more. "How do I know that's real, huh? You're just--" The larger Lander put his hand on the first one, startling both him and Reiko. "It's a real card," he rumbled. The first Lander shook the hand off. "How do you know?" he snapped. "She's just--" The second Lander grabbed his shoulder again, and he sagged just a little. "Fine," he spat. "Get out of here, bitch. I hope you blow yourself up." He spun on his heel, hunched over, and stalked away, followed by his companion. Reiko watched them go, willing her heartbeat to slow. Finally they vanished behind a tower of wrecked cars, and she sighed. "That's the trouble with ruling by fear." She shook her head. ===== Jiro collapsed on the ground, panting. Baachan walked over and poked him with her stick. He didn't react. "Tired out already?" she grumped. Slowly, Jiro raised his head. "I...I can't...anymore..." He fell back again, back heaving with his rasping breaths. The old woman sighed, and turned to look at the scattered bits of pottery where they'd fell. "I'm happy to say you're improving, Jiro," she said. "Not very quickly, but definitely improving." Her only response was wheezing. Rolling her eyes, Baachan looked back at the prone figure. "Damn, in my day we would have shunted you straight to the Sealing program." At this Jiro raised his head again. "S...sealing? What..." "Oh, that's just what we called it when...We trained people to keep control of their powers, but not to use them." She pushed the pottery shards into a small pile with her stick, sharp eyes finding every piece. "If someone had the power, but couldn't be trained to use it in combat, we just made sure they wouldn't kill anyone with an explosion and sent them on their way." Jiro pushed himself up to his elbows, staring at her. "You mean--that's *not* what you were doing with me?" "What? Of course not." Baachan turned and peered at him, her brow furrowing. "Compared to the best of the old era, you may be simply average...but you do have much potential. Enough, perhaps, to--" "What, change the world?" Jiro staggered to his feet, eyes burning as he glared at her. "Like Reiko says? Or do you just mean 'kill people'? Or 'destroy homes'? Come on, finish your sentence." The old woman tightened her grip on her staff and exhaled. "All those things and more," she replied. "I don't want any of that!" he yelled. "I just want to be left alone! Okay? Leave me alone!" Mists gathered and swirled around his clenched fists. Baachan muttered some words under her breath, and a bright tension grew in the air. "Jiro, you cannot run from--" "Leave me ALONE!" The cry hung in the air, echoes building until an earsplitting detonation rocked the room. Actinic radiance flared from Jiro's form, and Baachan was blown backward, hanging onto her staff for dear life. ===== Two men stepped into the ruins of a building. One was wrapped in rags, scavenged from trash heaps and stained brown with dust. He stooped behind his companion, a tall, thin man all in black. The second man's clothes were tightly fitted and designed for functionality, with a minimum of the usual ornate Lander decorations. His sole concessions to this style were two patches on his shoulder, one of the classic dead tree, the other depicting a stylized wasp in black and gold embroidery. "This is the place," the smaller man ventured. "I was here, I seen it myself. A light like anything--" "Enough." The Lander's voice was a deep rumble. "...oh. Okay then." The scavenger backed away. "Then I'll just--" "Yes." The smaller man backed away, bowing profusely, then turned and ran. The Lander ran a hand through his spiky black hair. His dark eyes, above a black cloth wrapped around his nose and mouth, scanned the ruins. He walked several steps forward, then knelt and placed his hand on a sooty streak marring the wooden floor. Small coruscations of energy danced over the man's long fingers. He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, then stood. Turning, he strode off into the dust. ===== To be continued... ===== Author's Note I suck. John Evans jevans@alum.mit.edu 2/18/02 #51 Beware the Radish http://www.chaoseed.com/btr/