Seiji squinted at the battered surface of the file cabinet, the light from the room's glowstone barely illuminating his reflection. Intense, narrow eyes stared back at him from beneath newly spiky hair, his scraggly black locks almost completely shorn. Satisfied, Seiji pocketed his switchblade and removed his jacket, then began tearing the sleeves from his shirt. The scavenged material quickly became bandannas to cover his forehead and mouth; the spike-studded strips Seiji wrapped around his tightly muscled wrists. Then Seiji redonned his black jacket, carefully rolling up the sleeves to expose his arms. The lightning patch he pressed against his left shoulder below Majin's patch, suppressing a shiver as he felt the bioengineered fabrics melding together. After one final check of his reflection, Seiji pulled a pair of sand goggles over his eyes and straightened them. Carefully watching the window to ensure he wasn't seen, Seiji picked up the papers he'd recently forged and looked through them again. He was now an official "freely-floating" agent of Councillor Shinkei...a fact that was true, of course, but it was always good to have papers. He wasn't really surprised that the Councillor hadn't provided him any such verification--the Landers were all about survival, and he was expected to fend for himself. Seiji knew it was his visceral understanding of this fact that made up for his small size. It was more than his wit or skill that kept him alive; Seiji survived by refusing not to. Smiling behind his bandanna, Seiji pocketed the papers, opened the door and stared into the faces of half a dozen Lander thugs. ===== Beware the Radish Presents... D A R K T I M E S started by John Evans Chapter 4: Evening written by John Evans ===== The black-robed priest knelt in the emptiness of the hall, peering at the bronze gong. The dim glow of afternoon had faded and the ray of sunlight long since vanished, leaving the hall lit only by two glowstone-stands. Yet the man's still flicked over the gong's metal surface, never stopping. He reached out and caressed the air before the instrument, trailing his fingers through unseen currents. Slowly, a smile broke out on his face. His job was getting easier all the time--the rabble were more docile by the day, and harnessing the collective energy of their "worship" was becoming child's play. And it was all thanks to the woman... "Yomiya-sama?" The priest became perfectly still for just a moment. Then he stood, fixing a neutral smile on his face as he turned to face the speaker. "Why, Marigold-kun," he said, raising his eyebrows slightly. "What brings you here this time of night?" The songstress approached slowly, blinking in the dim light. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Yomiya-sama, but you have--a visitor." She stepped to one side and looked back. A tall, thin Lander stepped forward and crossed his arms. Yomiya felt a soft jab of ice at his heart as he looked at the man. His clothes were all black, and new--not scavenged from dusty ruins, but made, *tailored* to fit him. He walked with a confidence that went beyond arrogance, his eyes drilled into Yomiya's own. And there was the patch--the Swarm struck fear into every Lander. "I am Nobuhara." His words didn't seem at all muffled by the mask across his mouth. Yomiya swallowed. "Yes, uh, yes sir. What can we do for you?" He noticed Marigold's look of astonishment and avoided her eyes. "Something happened." Nobuhara took another step forward, and Yomiya forced himself not to move backward. "An explosion, violence. We believe it was an unregistered Latent." "Latent?" The priest coughed. "Latent, of course. I heard about the incident--" "And?" Those eyes just wouldn't leave him alone. Yomiya swallowed and thought fast. "The Landers all were killed--but there were some patrons who left before it happened. You know, those who have been, traumatized, often seek comfort from their spiritual--" "I know." Yomiya forced his mind back on track. "Someone told me there was going to be a fight between a young man, and a girl, and these four Landers." "Hmmm." The priest stopped his recitation to see the other man tugging at his mask and staring at nothing. "A young man and a girl. This is new." His eyes refocused. "Do you know them?" "The girl is a Technician--" Nobuhara snorted, and Yomiya frowned in thought. "The boy, I don't know...his parents were recently, well, there was an incident with a troop of Landers--" "Yes. I must find this young man." "I know him!" Both men turned to look at Marigold, who blushed slightly and clasped her hands together. "I know him," she repeated. "At least I know who he is, and I think I know where he lives." "Good." Nobuhara turned and walked past her. "Come." "Wait--" the songstress began. "Yes, wait a moment, sir!" Yomiya called. He steeled himself as the Lander turned back to face them. "Lady Marigold is very important to our work here," he said, trying not to sound wheedling. As he spoke he shifted his robes, exposing a patch with a fishhook to view. Nobuhara's eyes flicked from him to Marigold and back. "The Lady tells me you have many acolytes assisting you." "Oh yes, that's right!" Marigold exclaimed. "I'd be glad to help you, it gets so boring day after day here!" Yomiya clenched his fists in the folds of his robes. "But she is the most skilled, the most valuable--" "This is more important." Nobuhara turned again and strode out, Marigold close behind. Before Yomiya could open his mouth again the door had closed behind them with a hollow, echoing sound. ===== Jichoh sat, alone, in a dimly lit hotel room. His legs were crossed, his sword lay in front of him. He closed his eyes and let thought wash through him. The girl. Perhaps she would consider herself a woman, but she was still very young. Fighting--over the years, the ways of combat had grown familiar to him. Well-trodden paths, as he'd seen every move before, every strike and shift. And then had come the realization that all of life was the same dance. One only had to master the steps... The girl, idealistic and indignant. A leader in her own mind--more confident than many men he'd met, but just as innocent of conflict. It took less than a thought to guide her toward disappointment and disillusionment--a small step on the path she would eventually walk. And yet...And yet she touched the heart of his dilemma. For Jichoh knew all the paths in his world, knew them as he knew his own soul--and they led nowhere. Wandering, watching the world change. Once he had fought, fought and watched the world change in all the same ways. The paths were always the same. And yet...He still searched. It was useless to deny your own feelings--a hard lesson, but it had been driven into his soul. His spirit searched, his heart yearned--for what? Atonement? He had not lied to her, not really--but how to atone when all paths led back to the same place? How to change the world when it always *was* changing, always the same? Or was it? Humanity always reacted to its environment, and the world had changed so much in the past years...there were fleeting hints of something new. Behind the flexing patterns were sparks of creation...Was that what he longed for? Was it salvation or damnation? Was it worth searching for? Jichoh sat alone in the room as darkness fell. His legs were crossed, his sword lay in front of him. He kept his eyes closed as thought washed through him. ===== Reiko leaned back in her chair, eyes closed, tapping her chin with a pen. There was silence for several moments. Then she opened her eyes and smiled. "Yeah, I think it'll work," she said, a gleam in her eye. "It'll take a lot of preparation, but I can get the materials. The hard part will be storing and hiding them--Keichi can take care of that, right?" At his nod, she grinned and pushed her chair back. "Okay, sounds great. But I really need to be going, so if you guys--" "Wait, Reiko-san?" Reiko paused in the act of standing up to see Mera looking at her with a strange expectancy. Looking around, she saw the same look on the other faces in the room (except Keichi, who was impassive as always). "Um, yes?" she replied. "We wanted--" Mera glanced around at the others, then gazed levelly at Reiko. "We'd heard something about--the Light. There was an explosion, or something," she continued hurriedly, "and we thought you might have known...I mean, if there's any hope for us, you know?" A smile broke out on Reiko's face. She opened her mouth--then closed it. She thought of Jiro, depressed and steadfastly refusing to help. Reiko had thought she could convince him...but was that true? If she spread the word, and then failed to bring Jiro around...Would knowing people were counting on him matter to Jiro? Would it just drive him away? Reiko blinked and looked around again. There was that same expectation, eyes searching for hope from her. She felt a momentary flash of panic, but she pushed it away. It was obvious she had to make a decision, if only for Mera. Mera was the leader here, trusting her to make the right choices and include her in planning. And that was the key, Reiko realized. She exhaled slightly, stood up and moved away from the table. "Mera, can I talk to you privately for a moment?" she asked. Mera stared for a moment, then quickly stood as well and followed Reiko to a corner of the room. Shinichi and the other guy (Reiko had never really found out his name) looked surprised, but stayed silent. And Keichi followed them over to the corner. Reiko almost groaned, then stopped as she looked at Keichi's expression. He was determined--and Reiko remembered exactly why he was so focused. He would understand her decision. Reiko leaned close to Mera and lowered her voice. "Something happened, yes, but I can't tell you much about it." She watched the other woman's face as she spoke. "See, this guy I know, it turns out he's a Latent." Mera's eyes widened and she started to speak, but Reiko continued. "The problem is that he--he's having a tough time dealing with things right now. I'd like to recruit him, of course, but I don't know if I *can*. You see?" Mera was staring into space. "A Latent," she breathed. "But that means--" Reiko took hold of Mera's shoulders and squeezed them, making her jump in surprise. "Mera, listen to me," she said. "If you start telling people about this--and then he doesn't go along with us or something--it'll crush everyone's hopes. You see? You can't tell anyone about this yet." She glanced at Keichi and was relieved to see him nodding. "I'll keep you updated of course, since you deserve to know," Reiko continued, "but you *can't* tell anyone. Do you understand, Mera?" "I--" Mera shook her head and blinked at her. "This is too important to screw up," Keichi growled, startling both the women. "If this gets out, and then falls through, they could turn on you." He fixed Mera with a stare. "Okay, okay!" Mera took a deep breath. "Okay, I understand, Reiko-san, really." She shook off Reiko's hands. "Okay, I'm sorry." Reiko tried a smile. "I'll be sure to keep you posted about anything that happens, though." Mera looked at her for a moment, then smiled back. "All right--thank you, Reiko-san." Suddenly she let out a weak laugh, and looked away. "I'm glad I have friends like you to make sure things go right," she muttered. Reiko felt a strange sadness as she looked at the frail young woman. She knew there was something about Mera that made people want to follow her--she would be a leader, but had a long way to go. Glancing at Keichi, Reiko was startled to see the same sadness reflected on his face. He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows. "You should be going," Mera said, jolting Reiko out of her thoughts. "It really is late." "Well, yes, I guess so," Reiko conceded. Mera quickly stepped up and embraced Reiko for a moment, then turned and started back to the table. Reiko stared. "Um--" Mera turned and smiled, flanked by the other cell members. "We'll take care of things here, don't worry." The two guys nodded, and Reiko turned to see Keichi folding his arms in a supportive sort of way. Reiko sighed. "I hope so..." She turned, pulled open the door and stepped out into the night. ===== Baachan stood over Jiro, her arms folded. He was lying on his back, panting heavily. She prodded him in the side with her stick. "Well, come on, boy. Get up and we'll try it again." Jiro closed his mouth and swallowed, then resumed panting. Baachan dug the end of her cane into his ribs. "Is that all you got, kid? Even my third ex-husband could do better than that!" she sneered. Jiro didn't respond. His eyelids drooped, and his breathing slowed. The old woman blinked. "Jiro?" She bent her head down to his. "Jiro?" A snore escaped Jiro's lips. Baachan chuckled and straightened up. "I thought so." She walked over to a wall and pulled open a cabinet, revealing several worn futons. "Actually, that was a pretty good showing," she commented, arranging the bedding on the floor. "You've obviously got some natural stamina. I wonder if it has anything to do with the war...you're the first one I've tried to train since it all happened." Jiro snored again and curled up slightly. "Yes, this should be interesting for both of us." Baachan pushed Jiro toward his futon; unfortunately, his body only slid a couple of centimeters. She stopped and looked at him for a moment, then she shrugged and slipped a pillow under his neck. "One night on the floor won't hurt," she muttered, then turned and hobbled over to the room's two glowstones. "The one thing I'm worried about are these energy powers," she continued, stroking the stones until their glow faded completely. "I've heard they can be tricky to get the hang off..." The old woman looked back at Jiro--and stared. A faint corona of light surrounded Jiro's sleeping form, radiating dimly in the near-total darkness of the room. "Then again," Baachan murmured, "maybe you won't have any trouble at all." ===== To be continued... ===== Author's note Okay, the joke's been beaten into the ground, so I won't bother with it any more. I suppose I should talk about the story...One interesting thing I've learned from writing the recent Dark Times chapters is how to defer plot elements. What exactly is Mera's plan? I dunno. What sort of strange disease is she suffering from? Don't know that either. What's the second part of the Lander qualification tests? Well, I have an idea, but building up suspense is a good thing. And so forth. John Evans jevans@alum.mit.edu 5/5/02 #53 Beware the Radish http://www.chaoseed.com/btr/