========================================================================= DISCLAIMER: This is one part of a multi-part story. It has been modified as a .txt document for the Tenchi Muyo! Fan Fiction Archive (www.tmffa.com) and can be viewed with its original bold/italics at FanFiction.Net (www.fanfiction.net). "Tenchi Muyo!", Washu, and all related images and properties are (c) Pioneer and AIC Animation. This is a work of fan-fiction. The author has received no monterary compensation. Any attempt to profit from this document in any way is punishable by law. To leave feedback, send fan-art, or make arrangements to host this fic on your website, please contact me at takisjoh@msu.edu ========================================================================= WASHU'S LULLABY A "Tenchi Muyo!" Novel by John Takis ========================================================================= - PART VI - THE GENIUS ========================================================================= 10,000 YEARS LATER ... The Academy sun was setting over the Director’s mansion, giving an orange cast to the wooden balustrades and gracefully ascending columns, overhung by clusters of vibrant foliage. The mansion was actually comprised of several buildings, any one of which dwarfed most other residences on the planet. These smaller structures were connected by various means, from strange energy flows, to more conventional stone bridges. Mazes, gardens, fountains and entire miniature ecosystems flourished beneath towering windows. It was the largest estate on the planet, larger even than the royal palace that accommodated the family of the Jurai king during planetary visits. And as large as it was, it was growing larger, as each new director contributed their own personal enhancements. Washu had added a weapons laboratory, a farm, and a small ocean -- beneath the surface, of course. She had also removed the majestic winged sentinels that stood on either side of the main gate and replaced them with crabs. These were carved from an enhanced red marble, and their onyx eyes protruded outwards to glare at trespassers and guests alike. In actuality a sophisticated recording mechanism, the eyes whirred softly as a wrinkle in subspace folded through the gates. A glowing sphere materialized inside and deposited a diminutive figure on the paved ground. It was Washu, and she only paused long enough to deactivate the security alarm before vanishing again. She re-appeared in another dimension -- the idyllic gardens of her main study. To her surprise, she was not alone. A tall figure stood stooped over her desk, holding a handful of papers. It turned towards her. For a moment, she thought it was Naja -- and indeed the being had the same steely hair, slim nose and slightly exotic eyes. But these eyes were a solid yellow, and the jaw was more square. Washu crossed her arms. "Poking around where you don’t belong?" Kagato flashed her a wolfish smile. "Ah, Professor. Forgive me. I was just looking over some of your research." He peered through his tiny glasses at the papers he held in his hand. "It really is fascinating. I had no idea you worked on the Tsunami unit. Most intriguing. Tell me, what was your connection?" "It doesn’t concern you," Washu said. Kagato bowed deferentially and set the papers down. "Of course. I apologize." Washu hopped onto her favorite pillow. "What are you doing here, anyway? I’m surprised the maids let you in." Kagato held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. Washu cursed and raised a hand to her forehead. "Oh ... your recital! I forgot, didn’t I? I’m very sorry. How did it go?" Kagato swept his hands behind his back, pinning his long robes against his sides. "I gave an excellent performance, as always, despite the fact that the Academy organ was out-of-tune." Washu smirked. "Modest, as usual. I really am sorry I missed it. I got tied up in meetings." "I’ll forgive you," said Kagato, "if you’ll let me show you my latest experiment." "Can you set it up in my laboratory?" He nodded. "Then let’s go." She made a motion with one hand and the crystal skies of the garden were replaced with a seemingly endless darkness, filled with enormous machines and far-reaching computer networks. "This is the same theater where Ikuma used to test me when we worked together," said Washu. Kagato opened a portal and summoned a tall cylindrical device that cleaved vertically down the center to reveal a tangle of wires and circuitry. An oddly shaped disc hung suspended over the top, glowing with a strange green light. "Observe," he said, and activated the device. Abruptly the disc swung towards him. A needle-thin point of light shot out. It struck Kagato in the forehead, and, as Washu looked on, he was consumed by an annihilating ray of energy. His skeletal system flashed, briefly contorted, and then he was gone. "Very impressive," Washu said. "You figured that one out all by yourself, did you?" Kagato stepped from behind her shoulder, grinning. "A relatively simple deception, though effective, wouldn’t you say? Would you like to know how I accomplished it?" She shook her head. "Not particularly. I am curious about this, however." She stepped forward and placed a hand on the device. Kagato jumped forward in a panic. "Professor, wait!" But he was too late, and a beam of energy struck Washu full-force in the chest, eating away at her from the inside before she seemed to evaporate into the air. He stood numbly, stunned and silent for several seconds. "What’s the matter?" came a chipper voice. He looked up and rubbed his eyes. Washu sat, hovering above him on her cushion. He grinned slowly. "Oh, well done, Professor. Very well done indeed." She hopped down. "The destructive potential of that beam was real. Technology that powerful is supposed to be restricted." "I built it," he said simply. "I am student, after all." "That’s true," she conceded. With a motion of her hand, the bustling laboratory vanished and the serene peace of her study returned. "Before you go, I almost forgot something." She reached into her pocket and with- drew a paper envelope. "A letter came for you today. From your mother. She’s still on K1190" Kagato took it. "What does it say?" "I don’t know," she said. "I don’t snoop." He smiled. "Of course not." She frowned at him. "Besides, I got my own letter." "Good news, I hope." Now she smiled. "Very good news. She's sent me some leads on a very important sample. One I've been after for 9,000 years." He raised an eyebrow. "That long? I'm suitably impressed." "You should be." He nodded, turning the letter over in his hands. "You know, I've always wondered why you two bother with paper. Such an inefficient method of communication. There are so many ways to assimilate knowledge. Why, with the proper constructions, you can absorb information directly from another person's mind." She raised a cautionary finger. "The written word is an old idea, and a valuable one. After all, what is the Department of Philosophy?" "The science of ideas." "And ideas are the greatest power in the universe." He shook his head. "I disagree. The greatest power in the universe is energy, if properly grasped." "You won't get very far with that angle," Washu said, leaning back against her desk and folding her arms. Kagato only shrugged. "Call it my long-term thesis. By the way, I forgot to ask: how did your meeting with the Council go?" She sighed. "Not good. Even after all these millennia, I haven't made much headway. They’ve called me back tonight to continue the procedures, if you want to be optimistic about that." Kagato’s sympathetic eyes glinted darkly. "How overstuffed bureaucrats came to wield such power, I'll never know. Someone ought to put them in their place." The thought hung in the air between them for a moment, then Kagato tucked the letter into his robes and walked over to the desk. "Now, about next week's expedition ..." * * * "I’m sorry, Dr. Hakubi," said Tyon Shyuzan Jurai. The bony-faced man sat at the center of the semi-circular desk that curved like a crescent around the majority of the auxiliary council room. "Your proposal is just not feasible at this time." Washu, wearing her full adult form, was seated in the center of the room, so that all eleven chairs faced inward towards her. Each face stared, emotionless, each pair of eyes regarding her as if she were an object, as opposed to the Director of the Academy. "Lord Tyon," she said impatiently, "three days ago, Jurai suspended trade relations with the nation-state of Sunjiwo. As you know, Sunjiwo was developing a biological catalyst that would have been of great value to the Science Academy, increasing our rate of experimentation exponentially and giving our viable crop yield a potential seven-percent boost. Jurai would reap the benefits of this advancement." "Jurai has suspended all trade relations," repeated the woman on Tyon’s right, as if that settled the matter. Washu pressed forward. "If the Academy were governed autonomously, there would be nothing preventing us from taking advantage of Sunjiwo resources, and nothing to stop us from sharing the benefits with the Jurai. And this is only one example, out of a dozen this year, alone, and out of more than a hundred in the past century. These are documented ..." "Please, Director Washu," said a man to her right. "We’ve heard this all before. The Science Academy is simply not ready to assume the duties of independence." "That’s not true," Washu said shortly. "Most of the infrastructures are already in place and have been functioning for millennia. Jurai presence is welcome, but hardly necessary ..." A woman on the left laughed, cutting Washu off. "Not necessary? Dr. Hakubi, are you suggesting that we allow the power contained here to go unchecked?" Washu shook her head. "Not unchecked. The Academy is an ancient civilization, with a vast native population. The citizenry is passionate and educated. We can ..." "By passionate you mean radical!" the woman snapped. "Let the Empire handle politics, and stick to your science." Washu rose to her feet. "Dealing with the morass of Imperial politics is exactly what we do need. I head the Department of Philosophy. Do you know why the Department of Philosophy is the summit of the entire Academy? We take research from all across the universe and shape it into one unified, ethical and progressive theory. I've directed that process for 10,000 years. It's not easy, and it doesn't get easier when my department is denied data due to your petty power struggles!" Tyon sighed in exasperation. "This is all beside the point. You may have a platform, but you don’t have a single piece of hard evidence that can convince people that a Jurai presence is actively detrimental to the Academy. The economic benefits alone betray your ideas as irrational. The Council has passed their final judgment, and you may consider the matter closed." He closed the folder that lay on the desk in front of him. "You are dismissed." Her eyes hard and defiant, Washu spun on her heel and left the room. Out- side, one of her functionaries, a young Jurai woman named Miko, followed her out to a waiting transport. The young woman struggling to catch up with Washu’s brisk pace. Her eyes took in her employer’s clenched fists and tight-lipped frown. She tried to smile. "Did it not go well, Miss Washu?" Washu didn’t slow down. "Of course it didn’t go well! And don’t call me 'Miss.' It annoys me." Miko gave a small, nervous laugh. "I’m sorry Miss ... I mean, Professor." Washu rolled her eyes. Where had she found the woman? Miko finished her giggle. "You know," she said absently, "you are rather hard to take seriously at times." Washu rounded on her. "Is that a fact?" The girl’s features went blank as she realized her slip of the tongue, but before she could speak, she was violently yanked off her feet. In half-a-second, she was dangling upside down in the air, suspended from her feet by an invisible force, trying frantically to keep her inverted dress from falling over her head. "Listen, foolish girl, I may be little, but I was running this academy before most of those pinheads were in diapers!" "Why, Washu," came a deep voice from behind. "I’m shocked. Mistreatment of students is a serious violation of Academy policy." Washu whirled to face the voice. There, with a satisfied smirk on his face, was Dr. Clay. She frowned, and Miko dropped to the floor, landing in an undignified tangle of limbs and clothing. Clay’s grin widened and Washu grimaced. The lines on his face had deepened over the years, and the thick curls of his beard had gone gray. His eyebrows arched owlishly beneath his jar-like black hat, and where his left eye had been, there was only an unfathomable blackness where an artificial cybernetic device had been implanted. It was said that Clay had performed the operation himself, voluntarily sacrificing a perfectly functional eye. In the blackness that remained gleamed a yellow spark that seemed to grow brighter as his smile grew broader. "Show some respect to your betters, old man," she said. "I’m the Director." "I know," he said. "And in spite of that, just look at the reputation you've earned." He examined Miko's trembling form. "Interesting. It's usually students, isn't it, Washu?" Her face burned for a moment, then her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you doing in the Supreme Council building?" "Just passing through," he said with a hint of bravura. "Is it against the rules?" "You know it isn’t," she said. "Well, then, I’ll just be on my way. Good night, Washu." Hands clasped behind his back, he ambled casually down the hall and around the nearest corner. Washu frowned, looking where he had gone, wondering where he was going. There had been something in his manner ... Still watching, she reached down and offered a hand to Miko. When the girl recoiled slightly, Washu said, "Don’t worry. I have a job for you." Still smiling nervously, Miko took her hand and clambered to her feet. "See where old pig-face was headed?" Miko nodded, going slightly pale. "Yeah, I know. Well stiffen up. I want you to follow him. Let me know where he goes, and see if you can’t find out if he has contact with anyone. Report back to me immediately." Miko bowed. "Yes, Professor." "Good girl. Be careful. I’ll find my own way home." * * * Kagato was waiting for her on one of her high balconies, his pale skin almost translucent in the moonlight. This gave a greenish cast to his features as he contemplated the city below. His eyes were narrowed to the point where only the glinting red of his pupils was visible. "This place truly is a work of beauty," he said. "They're all fools," said Washu, "Obsessed with their small-minded games. Ever since Airai, the Jurai have been paranoid about losing control. I wish I'd never led that expedition." Kagato nodded, sensing that she wanted to talk, accepting that his meditation had been pre-empted. "You know, I've never heard that story from your perspective," he prompted. "I do recall you were involved." She sighed. "I suppose it was my place as the department head. It was really too important to ignore. The discovery that there was a connection between religious artifacts found on worlds across the galaxy ... that they could be traced to Airai, and Jurai. That the Tsunami pattern was not evident in all of them. The Jurai want their religion to be the only religion. They can't accept the fact that maybe there's something more." "Is there something more?" Kagato asked. "Most certainly. In the study of ancient pre-history, at least three distinct patterns were identified." She turned. "Naja's been following up on that very research for years. It's the focus of her work at K1190." She looked up at the night sky. "You could easily spend a lifetime studying relics from across the universe. Who knows? You might even find another Tsunami or two. How does that strike you?" He smiled. "Intriguing." She turned away from the balcony. "Well, even the most brilliant genius in the galaxy needs her sleep. Stay as long as you like." "Good night, Professor." Washu vanished into the shadows leading into the house. Kagato remained on the balcony and returned to his meditations, eyes glittering with possibilities. * * * K1190 was a desert world. Most of its surface was sand and rock. Constantly shifting dunes, harsh temperatures and frequent sandstorms made for treacherous terrain, even to the technologically equipped. So it was that the majority of past archaeological work had taken place in the rocky areas, which had the dual advantage of making things easier on the researchers and containing better-preserved ruins for study and excavation. The significance of these sites, however, had declined over the years, as digs were stripped of artifacts. What data remained to be gathered could be done within the comforts and resources of an Academy laboratory, and the old sites were abandoned by the scientists, leaving the path clear for treasure-hunters and fortune-seekers willing or desperate enough to try their luck. Naja, however, was looking elsewhere. Time had made it difficult to obtain relics from beneath the dune seas. Hundreds of thousands of years of erosion and shifting landscapes stood between Naja and anything of value. But it was not an impossible challenge -- not for someone with the resources of the entire Academy and the personal support of the Director. Working under a grant from a Jurai royal house, she had transported enormous building-machines capable of withstanding the desert conditions that could scan deep beneath the surface of the planet, and advanced robots that could safely retrieve the artifacts. A full complement of scientists working under Jurai super- vision would clean and do a preliminary study of each artifact before it was sent to Daeldwin, an orbital storage facility. Naja had moved her private tent -- ten-meters in diameter and three meters tall at the center -- some distance from the main barracks, preferring to work in isolation. It was with hesitation that her assistant Yoshi pulled back the flap and cleared his throat, eyes averted. She looked up from her scanning equipment. "Yoshi, come in. Do you have it?" He stepped fully inside the tent and the flap closed behind him. "I have it." He held up a triangular stone slab with carvings along the edges. "So that’s the source of those strange readings?" she asked. He nodded. "We’ve got the preliminary data. Shall I put it in the transit pod?" He motioned to the oblong, coffin-sized device that rested on one of her tables. She shook her head. "No, leave it with me. I want to take a closer look at those energy signatures." He made a small bow and held out the stone. She took it, thanked him, and ushered him out the flap. Walking to one of the tables, she ran one hand across the surface of the stone. It was a light tan, and preternaturally smooth to the touch; neither rough nor glassy. A faint tingle played across her fingertips as she stroked the artifact. Carrying it to the nearest work station, she placed it under- neath a spectrographic meta-scanner. She flipped a switch on the rect- angular device and it projected a screen into the air. Nodding to herself in satisfaction, Naja initiated the scans, returned to her hammock and settled down for a nap. She was awakened by a dim rumble that shook the sand beneath her tent and caused her to rock perilously inside the hammock. Adrenaline shot through her veins, and she struggled to maintain her balance. Moments later, thousands of years of mental training kicked in, and she calmly leapt into the air and landed on her feet. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the motion ceased and the sands were still. Naja's eyes swept the interior of her tent. One wall had partially collapsed, dragged beneath a swell of sand and stone. A metal table laden with equipment had also been partially submerged, one leg below the surface. This had deposited the oval transit pod onto the ground, though it did not appear damaged. Thankfully, the table containing the meta- scanner and artifact was programmed with limited artificial intelligence. It had withdrawn its legs and activated repulsor units. Naja summoned a scanner on her wrist and attempted to contact Yoshi. There was no response. Switching frequencies, she hailed the orbiting storage vessel. The only response was garbled static. Another shudder passed beneath her feet. "An earthquake?" she wondered aloud. Geographical scans had not detected the possibility of seismic activity, or proper precautions would have been taken. None of the buildings had been fortified. Filled with sudden worry, she strode to the tent's main flapped and pulled it back. Her first concern was for the building-sized digger factories. Inconceivable as it was, a serious malfunction could have destroyed not only the facilities themselves but the artifacts they contained, and would have accounted for the tremors. Even at two miles distance, a moment's glance was enough to assure her that the damage to the mammoth structures was only superficial -- some mild tearing and scorching of the outer hull along the eastern walls. It was the thick column of smoke that drew her attention to the camp. It had been leveled. Massive tents that had once stretched fifteen meters into the air were now flaming heaps of tattered cloth, pierced throughout at random angles by jutting rods of iron. Naja gaped in astonishment as an oblong shape, glowing orange-red, streaked from the sky above to impact in the center of the camp. An explosive tower of flame erupted from the ground where it struck, and she held up her arm to shield her eyes. The shock-wave rumbled beneath her, and before her boots could slip beneath the quaking sand, she was hovering a meter above the ground. She searched the sky for the missile's point-of-origin. A ruddy orange, barren of clouds, it revealed nothing. She turned back towards the ruined camp and squinted. Through the haze, her augmented vision could make out tiny shadows moving between the collapsed tents. she thought, trembling. Still hovering, she began to speed towards the chaos. She hadn't gone fifty meters when another projectile cut through the air overhead. This one struck one of the oxygen distributors, and Naja barely had time to erect a defensive shield before the shock-wave hit. Her arms shook as the intense wave of heat and pressure passed over her, and she cried out in pain and rage. No one could have survived, she thought, as she stared helplessly at the distant mass of molten sand. A tear trickled down her cheek. She looked behind her for any sign of further missiles. There were none. She opened a channel to her orbiting science vessel. "This is Akara Naja calling OSF Daeldwin. What's going on up there?" To her relief, there was a response. "A pirate vessel of the Torg clan. They managed to get through our defensive satellites somehow. We fled to the far side of the planet and they didn't pursue. We think they're after the factories." "You're damn right they're after the factories," Naja said, her voice choked. "Everyone down here is dead." There was a brief silence before the voice responded. "Acknowledged. Do you want us to swing back around and pick you up? We're leaking fuel, but we might be able to..." "Negative," Naja said. "You're no match for them in your condition. Contact the Jurai and set down someplace safe. I think there's a colony of treasure hunters somewhere on your hemisphere. Warn them." "With respect, Ma'am, if they find you, you'll be killed. Even you can't fight off an army." "I know," Naja said. Her mind worked furiously as she considered her options. Her mouth drew into a hard line. "I won't have to. I can create a subspace vacuum in the generator complex and program it to collapse when the pirates land." "That will destroy everything in a 50-k radius!" "Don't worry," Naja said. "There's a transit pod here. It should still be functional. I'll use it to shift out of the sync with the dimensional spectrum. The power on the pod shouldn't last more than a few hours, but it'll be enough. As for the machines, we'll just have to call it a loss. Now go!" "Affirmative," came the reply, and Naja cut off the channel. Her eyes returned to the horizon. There shouldn't have been any survivors, but she had an obligation to be sure. Raising her gloved hand, she spread the palm towards the crater that had been the camp and scanned for signs of life. Blinking lights appeared on the back of her hand, all registering negative. She released a bitter sigh and headed towards the wreckage. The generator complex was the nearest building to the camp site, and despite its proximity, it was perfectly intact. This was due to fortifi- cations to the exterior surface designed to protect the volatile equip- ment from potential disturbances. The pirates would have taken that into account before launching their attack. The structure was not, however, fortified in such a manner as to physically contain a meltdown -- nor could it have been. Instead, intricate failsafes and redundancies in both the machinery and the computer system served that function. Naja, however, knew how to disable them. She had created the system. Although the main entrance faced the camp, Naja went to the auxiliary doors. The thought of her research team and their families charred to blackened husks beneath the ruined tents was hard enough to bear without the sight of it. She swallowed. A royal emissary from Jurai had been with them, observing and overseeing their progress; a condition of the grant to which Naja had not objected. She wished she had. How many Jurai nobles had been killed? Had the emissary had family? The Torg guild could not have known. Or if they had ... it meant that they were unconcerned about retaliatory action. They had let the Daeldwin escape, knowing it meant that their identity would not be kept secret. The thought sent a chill down Naja's spine. Perhaps it was not a show of confidence on the Torg's part, but a set-up performed by a rival guild. What better way to frame someone than to stage an attack on Imperial Jurai? A careful examination of the wreckage might yield some answers ... but with perhaps hours or less to spare before the first salvage teams arrived, she had no time to waste. The Daeldwin's records would have to suffice. Locating the rear entrance, Naja keyed in her access code and stepped inside. In spite of its size, the interior of the structure was much more like a machine than a building. Makeshift "hallways" existed in the spaces between working mechanical parts that were stories tall. There were no windows. Light was provided by fixtures attached along those metal struts and walls that formed the hallway borders. They glowed a neon red. Every so often, a smaller, boxy computer terminal would rise up from the floor. These monitored and controlled the various components of the world-digger, and it was to these that Naja moved, removing safeties and reconfiguring specifications as she went, working her way towards the camp-side entrance. Twelve minutes later she was there, hunched over the final terminal, inputting the command that would allow her remote access. She was just about to close the panel when she heard a noise from behind. It was high in pitch, but soft and rhythmic. After a moment, she recognized it as human. Turning, she reached up and detached the overhead light. The main doors were visible from where she was standing, but they were closed. Moving cautiously, she walked to a thick tangle of pipes running up and over the door's left side, and pushed her lamp into one of the larger gaps. Her eyes widened with surprise at what the red glow revealed. It was a little girl, no more than six or seven years of age. She had curled up against the wall behind her, and was sobbing beneath labored, shallow breaths. Her white and yellow dress was torn and smeared with dirt and blood. Wide eyes peered from beneath disheveled pale-green bangs. Naja knelt and set the lamp on the dirt between them. She held out her arms and the girl shifted forward. Naja caught her, and gently pulled her out onto the open ground. "You poor darling," Naja whispered as the girl's eyes fluttered dizzily. "What were you doing in here? This place should have been shut down for the evening." "The lady," the girl whispered in a shaky voice. "A lady?" Naja asked. "Your mother?" The girl shook her head. Naja recognized the signs of a concussion, and a sinking feeling filled her. "Who was your mother?" The girl closed her eyes in pain. "I don't remember," she moaned. Some- thing red and wet trickled down between her eyes across the bridge of her nose. As she collapsed into Naja's arms, her hair swung back from her forehead to reveal a nasty purple welt that oozed blood. "The lady ..." she breathed, and her eyes closed. * * * Washu's sleep was interrupted by a loud knock at her bedroom door. Bleary-eyed, she pulled a nightgown over her shift and fumbled her way across the room. Miko stood in the hall. Washu blinked. "Miko? What are you doing here at this hour?" Miko ran a hand through her hair self-consciously. "Um ... you told me to report back immediately." "Oh. And you took me literally." She sighed. "Well, I suppose I should have expected it." Miko wrung her hands anxiously and Washu noticed that they were scratched along the backs of her wrists. She reached out and grasped the girl's hands, leaning forward to scrutinize them. Miko gasped. Washu noted that there were also small tears around her dress. "You get in a chase or something?" The girl nodded breathlessly. "I was followed on my way back here. I ... I got scared, so I went over the east wall. The plants there have thorns ..." Washu frowned. "You're lucky your dimensional signature is still registered with the automatic security system. Who was following you?" "I didn't get a good look. It was humanoid ... tall. It wouldn't come near the wall." "That's interesting. When did you notice you were being followed?" "Shortly after I left the Supreme Council building. I heard an ipsis call and I turned to look. I saw someone vanish behind a tree, so I pretended not to notice and kept walking." "Smart girl," Washu murmured. Perhaps there was something to the young woman after all. "But I knew they were still there," Miko continued. "At first, I thought it might be Dr. Clay, but ..." "But he's too short and fat," Washu offered. Miko flushed. "Right." Washu crossed her arms. "So. To the best of my knowledge, that's not standard security procedure. Maybe someone has something to hide. What did you find out?" "Well, I followed Dr. Clay to Lord Tyon's office ..." "Lord Tyon's office?" Washu interrupted. "That's odd. At the central network?" Miko shook her head. "No, his private one. I've never actually been inside, but I had to escort an ambassador there once, when I was working there." "Very interesting," Washu said. She stepped back and made a gesture. A floating pillow bearing a computer phased into existence. "Let's see what we can dig up." Miko waited anxiously while Washu typed. At length, she let her hands fall to her sides. "Hmmm ... according to this, there's no reason those two should be meeting. They don't have any common projects. Perhaps they're planning something for the future." Her eyes narrowed and she scrolled down. "Hold on a second ... yes ... yes. Strange. Tyon is the head of the Supreme Council. He's directly involved in long-reaching projects in each of the departments ... except this one." She hit a button. A department logo filled the screen. Miko leaned in for a closer look. "Defense?" "Bingo," Washu said. "An unlikely coincidence. Why do you suppose he's keeping his nose out of the RDOD?" "Deniability?" Miko suggested. Washu's estimation of the girl shot up another notch. "My thoughts exactly. Now the only question is what to do about it." She crossed her arms and reflected for a moment. "More research is required," she said at last. "You've done very well, Miko. Why don't you stay here tonight? You can have the royal suite if you want." The girl's eyes widened to the size of small plates. "Miss Washu ..." Washu brushed her aside. "Yes, yes, it's alright. I won't tell if you won't. And don't call me 'Miss.' Now go. We'll start work in the morning." Bowing hastily, a tremulous smile on her face, Miko left. "In the morning," Washu whispered. "I'll look into it in the morning." Even as she said it, she knew she would not sleep. With an annoyed sigh, she summoned a cushion to sit on and went to work. * * * Naja watched as the little girl ate. The child slurped her soup noisily, paying little attention to the broth that sloshed out of the spoon and onto her chin. She would only pause long enough to lick her lips, eyeing Naja with the quick, fervent glances of a born skeptic. Naja sighed and glanced down at the data pad in her hands. She'd worked up a complete genetic profile of Seto. That was the girl's name. It was the most useful piece of information Naja could coax out of the girl, who seemed to be having trouble simply remaining in the present. As soon as Seto had regained consciousness, and after her wounds had been treated, Naja had begun questioning her. The child had remained tight-lipped, however, and their time was running out. When she had spoken, she had talked only of "the lady," and even then was slow with details. Seto tipped the last of the soup into her mouth, missing the majority of it, which trickled down her chin. Naja decided to try again. "You're sure that after the lady led you into the compound, she didn't go back outside?" The girl shook her head solemnly. "She made me close the doors. Then she got really bright and disappeared." Naja scratched her head. A teleporter? A dimensional shift, more likely. "What was she wearing." "I dunno. Robes." Seto cocked her head to one side. "And I remember some- thing else. Her hair was blue." "Go on," Naja prompted. "Anything else?" "It came down really long in the back." Her eyes lit up eagerly. "And she had a mark on her face! Like this!" The girl held up two fingers and pressed them against the skin of her forehead. She removed her hand, leaving two red marks that faded as the blood redistributed. Naja sat straight up. She looked at the data pad. She stood. "Clean yourself up," she said, tossing Seto a towel. She had tried to touch the girl on the face earlier and almost lost a finger. Seto caught the towel. "Why?" "Just do it. No arguing." Naja knelt down to Seto's level as the girl reluctantly wiped her chin. "I want you to listen to me very carefully. We're the only two people on the planet, do you understand? There are some bad men coming, and I don't want them to find us." Seto ran the towel across her eyes. "The same bad men who made the thunder?" Naja nodded. "That's right." "Where are my parents?" she asked. Naja was taken aback by the question, and her eyes widened with sympathy. How much did the girl remember? "Your family will come to find you very soon," she whispered. "How do you know?" Naja reached over and took the towel. "I just know. Now come on." Naja offered her hand, and Seto took it reluctantly. Naja led her to the transit pod. She pressed a seemingly blank region on the smooth ebony surface. A red light flashed beneath her fingertips and the top of the device slid open like a coffin. "This machine will keep you safe until the bad men are gone." Seto shrank back from the pod. "Where will you be," she asked in a small voice. "There's only room for one person in there. But don't you worry ..." She cupped the girl's face in her hand and winked. "They won't find a trace of me." Seto shook her small head. "I don't want to go in there. I'm scared." "Don't be afraid," Naja said, drawing one hand around the girl's back. "It'll be just like taking a nap. You'll see." Seto stiffened briefly as the tiny hypodermic needle concealed in Naja's palm found its mark on the back of her neck. Then she slumped forward, unconscious, into Naja's ready arms. Tenderly, Naja lifted the small body into the transit pod and ran a quick check on pulse and breath rate. When she was satisfied, the top slid shut. "Sleep well," she whispered, running a hand across the sleek surface. It rippled in the air for a moment and then disappeared, slipping into another reality. Naja turned back to her disheveled work tables, drinking in the sight. A thousand lifetimes worth of work, and this was all that remained to her. Her course of action was clear. The energy in the transit pod was not sufficient to last for long. If it reappeared amidst pirates ... there was no telling what horrors would be inflicted on a pretty, defenseless girl, even one as young as Seto. Her face became sad and tired. If only there was some other way ... but she had not known she was not alone on the planet. It was too late now for her ship to attempt a retrieval. She didn't have enough resources to fight the pirates off. There was nowhere to hide, no method of travel except by foot ... no, there was only one way she could make sure that the girl was placed beyond harm. Stepping over to the computer that gave her remote access to the factories, she began keying in the proper codes. As she finished, she cocked her head to one side, fancying she could hear the drone of approaching ships. But they were only aural phantoms. According to the proximity detector that rested on the table the Torg landing craft were just now entering orbit. Closing her eyes, she keyed in the final code. In four hours, the transit pod would reappear in the middle of a kilo- meters-wide crater. Calmly, Naja walked across the room to her audio system. Running a finger down the adjacent stack of music cards, she selected one that Kagato had sent her. It was something he had personally reconstructed on one of his expeditions: an untranslated opera from a dead race. She inserted it into the machine and closed her eyes. At once beautiful music filled her ears ... a haunting, flowing melody in a register so high it was almost painful. she thought. Naja sat down cross-legged on the sand to wait. Her breathing deepend as she began to empty her mind. The sacred moment was interrupted by a rude beep from the spectrograph machine. Naja looked up. Her eyes fell on the triad artifact. Analysis complete. She had forgotten all about it. If she'd thought about it, she might have made room for it in stasis with the girl. A sudden curiousity seized her. she thought. Rising, she approached the machine. The artifact seemed to be staring up at her, the round depressions on its points like three widely-spaced eyes. She traced its perimeter with one finger. There was something there she hadn't seen before. Something about the etchings seemed familiar. A memory ... Washu and Naja celebrating after the conclusive testing of a successful Kagato ... Washu, slightly drunk, allowing Naja access to her private store of data, where her research on the Tsunami project had been corroborated with ... with ... A connection flared within Naja's mind. Impulsively, she grabed the data pad containing Seto's genetic information. She fed it into the spectro- graph and watched the numbers begin to compile. She was unaware of the far-off droning of approaching ships. On her computer, the countdown proceeded unnoticed. She was also oblivious to the unconscious manner in which she had begun to grip the artifact ... and the ever-so-faint limbus of pale red light that had begun to suffuse her. The numbers came faster now, almost reckless. She chuckled. Naja's chuckle turned into a laugh. The air crackled with energy. She was still laughing when fire began to fall from the sky in hot, molten threads. * * * Kagato threw open the door to Washu's office without bothering to knock, his face a mask of rage. She looked up from the desk. His yellow eyes seemed encased in a film of ice. "You've heard," she said quietly. He regarded her as if she had suddenly sprouted feathers. "Have I heard?" he hissed. "You evidently have. And yet you sit there at your work, as if nothing has happened?" Washu bowed her head slowly and moved a hand across the papers on her desk. "I uncovered evidence of a secret alliance between Dr. Clay and Lord Tyon. I called in some favors and confirmed it. He's been covertly supplying weapons research from the Academy to the Royal Department of Defense. Weapons capable of overpowering the defense satellites we currently employ for field missions." She closed her eyes. "Then I heard about the attack on K1190 and I did some research. Last month the Torg guild released fourteen political prisoners ..." Kagato's fist clenched so tight that the white fabric of the glove on his right hand tore at the knuckles. "Sold out," he rasped. "Our own research ..." Washu could sense powerful energies gathering around him, and she held up a hand. "Let me handle this. I'll take the information directly to the media. It's going over Jurai's head, but I don't see how we have a choice. You save your strength for the trip to K1190. Kagato stared at her incredulously. "The link is gone! Don't you under- stand that? Don't tell me you haven't felt it! The link is !" She stood. "Her ship, the Daeldwin, just arrived in system. There's a small chance she's alive in dimensional stasis ..." He shifted backwards through the door, not allowing her to finish. His billowed cape was the last of him to vanish, but the icy imprint of his eyes seemed to hang in the air after him. Washu bowed her head. She hated to deceive him ... but it was better this way. The last thing she needed at this crucial juncture was for Kagato to launch himself into a blind act of vengeance. Better that he should occupy himself collecting whatever Naja had thought worth saving. Reflexively, she reached up to stroke the satchel that hung around her neck. The shock wave of pain that had traveled through the gems had been unmistakable. "Naja," she whispered, and a tear slid down her cheek. "What am I going to do without you?" * * * When Lord Tyon shut the door to his private office and turned around, he found Dr. Clay waiting for him, grim and implacable as a statue, with his false eye glimmering in the shadows. Tyon raised a thin eyebrow. "Well. I must say, I'm surprised to find you here. I would have thought you'd have fled by now. Perhaps you haven't heard the news?" Clay sneered. "It's all over the networks. My ship has been impounded. I need you to authorize an override." Tyon laughed harshly. "I will do no such thing." Clay jumped forward with a speed that belied his size and seized the other man by the collar. "You fool!" he hissed. "If I go down, you go with me!" Tyon stepped back, his face a mask of stoic calm. Gingerly, he removed Clay's large hands from his shirt. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "The evidence linking us is circumstantial at best. I think you'll find that all data points to my political aide ... who has mysteriously fled the planet along with a large sum of money." Clay's face contorted into a grimace of rage, tinted with dark amusement. "Ah, I see. Of course. Your hands are clean. All you need is a scapegoat ... someone to take the public fall." One heavy fist smacked into the palm of his left hand. "They're calling for my blood out there! That damned Washu has turned them all against me! The jealous fools!" " Washu," said Tyon firmly, "has been more than generous in this matter. Though it appears we'll have to give her proposal of 'Galaxy Academy' autonomy more careful consideration if we wish to ensure good relations for Jurai in the future." "She's played you like a fool," Clay jeered. "You and this whole planet. This is all her doing, don't you see?" "I'm afraid I don't see," Tyon sniffed. "Furthermore, it would be un- seemly for the authorities to find you here. Please don't force me to call security." "I need that override!" Clay raged, spittle flying from his mouth. "I'm afraid I can't do that." Clay's arms fell at his sides. "Very well then. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this. You might have been useful in the future ..." His lips spread in a cruel smile. He made a motion with his right hand, speaking a single word. "Zero." A shape detached itself from the shadows on the wall behind Clay; tall and thin and dark as night. Tyon instinctively drew back in horror. "You know, Lord Tyon," Clay said conversationally, "Washu really has come up with some amazing innovations. For example: did you know she invented a device that allows anything to be copied ... as long as there is a pre- existing blueprint?" Tyon only gaped in astonishment as the sleek shape advancing towards him began to melt. Viscous, metallic liquid trickled down the humanoid form. Where formerly had rested a blank sphere, he found himself staring into a perfect replica of his own face. "I'll have your authorization," Clay said coldly. "One way or another." Tyon tried to scream, but hands identical to his own had closed around his throat. He flailed uselessly, too late remembering the gun concealed beneath his desk. It was his last thought as the life was throttled out of him. His eyes turned up, flashing white in his skull, then he became limp. Its murderous work completed, his stone-faced doppelganger tossed his body to the side and turned to look at Clay. "Was the complete memory record successfully duplicated?" he asked it. "Yes, Doctor." Clay's smile broadened. "Excellent. Now access his computer." The duplicate indicated Tyon's discarded form. "And the body?" "Leave it. By the time they find his worthless flesh we'll be halfway across the galaxy." With a bow of obeisance, the creature went to work. * * * Kagato entered quietly. In the days since his departure, Washu had not left the large chair behind her desk, conducting all her personal business remotely. Now she swiveled to face him. In answer to her un- spoken question, he regarded her coldly. "A Jurai girl," he said, voice laced with hate. "To think that Naja chose to save one of ." He paused. "You knew, didn't you?" "Yes," she said softly. "I knew." "And you didn't tell me?" he demanded. "You let that worthless hope fester inside of me?" "I couldn't be sure," she said. "No ... no, you deserve to know the truth. I didn't want you to do something you'd regret later." "How altruistic," he said bitterly. Washu sighed. "Kagato ... this is a turning point. The importance of what Naja's sacrifice has allowed us to accomplish ... I simply couldn't risk it counting for nothing." He frowned. "What do you mean?" "The tide of public opinion has turned against Jurai. Their control over the Academy is coming to an end. I authorized the treaty myself this morning. This is no longer the Royal Science Academy." "And what is it now?" "They'll call it the Galaxy Academy, I expect. It's what I put on all the proposals." "They?" He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?" "I'm stepping down as Director." His eyes widened in shock, and she held up a hand. "It's the only way, believe me. There are those who would accuse me of manufacturing the crisis to further my own power." "They would accuse you of murdering your own partner?" he said loudly. Washu spread her hands wide. "Naja left no body. As hard as it is to accept, my stepping down is the only way to silence the accusations. In any case, it's already done. I announced my retirement earlier today. The Chiefs of Staff will elect a new Director next week." She took a deep breath. "Besides ... my work as Director is completed. It's been so long ..." She smiled faintly. "You might say I'm feeling my age. There are ... certain projects I've delayed for too long. And you ... are a part of them." "I don't understand." "Here," she said. From beneath her desk, she produced a stack of worn paper documents and handed them to him. "Your mother wanted you to have these." He took them, mystified. His eyes moved rapidly as he flipped through the pages, and he adjusted his glasses at the tip of his nose. "These are ..." "The blueprints for your conception." She stepped closer to him, speaking gently. "You've always known, to some degree, the manner in which you were created." "Of course," he breathed. "But ..." "There's more," she said. "Kagato, you were designed for perfect compati- bility with a living ship ... on a level never before attempted apart from Tsunami and the Jurai! Your mother and I worked on it together. You were the prototype. And you can see the ship there." She indicated a page. "The Soja." He took it in. "This exists?" "Only partly. I need your help to complete it. You were meant to be a part of the process from the beginning, you see. We were waiting until you were ready ... now's as good a time as any, I suppose." "You sound reluctant." She shook her head. "Only at the circumstances." She looked up at him, becoming suddenly conscious of how small she was by comparison. Shifting into her adult form, she reached out in compassion to touch his face. He withdrew from her hand. "Here we are talking of these things ... are there no tears?" "No tears," he said in a voice as hard and cold as iron. "What's done is done." "Mourn in your own way, then. I have important work to do." She stepped towards the door. "Pack your things. We leave the planet at dawn." Then she was gone into the dark corridor outside. He gathered his cloak about his shoulders and followed her. * * * Somewhere in the dark recesses of space, Clay awoke. Realizing that he had dozed off in the comforts of his throne-like chair, he re-oriented himself with his surroundings. He was in the command center of his ship: a comfortable, open space that had been well-accoutered with various works of art. Even the navigation console, currently helmed by Zero, was sculpted so as to appear of one piece with the floor. The bridge was rimmed with tall, non-reflective viewports, giving him a magnificent view of the naked cosmos. It was in studying the stars that he realized what had awakened him: the ship had stopped moving. Furthermore, the constellations were unfamiliar. "Zero," he barked. The robot had returned to its base form, all of Tyon's memories and emotions having been summarily erased following the mission. "Surely we haven't arrived at our destination yet! Where are we?" There was no reply. "Zero!" Drawing himself up, he strode over to the navigation console. "What's the matter with you? Why aren't you responding?" But the robot remained still. Huffing with annoyance, Clay examined the ring around his finger that controlled Zero's motor functions. Abruptly, Zero's head pivoted towards him. The vertical indicator-light that usually cleaved its face had been distorted into an oval shape. When it spoke, it was not with its customary high-pitched tone, but rather a deep voice that seemed to originate mere microns from Clay's ears. "I have taken control of your machine," the voice said. Clay stepped backwards in shock. "This can't be the Jurai's doing! The Seniwa Police?" His head bobbed from side to side as he searched the windows for any sign of other ships. "No," came the voice. Clay turned back to Zero, preparing to crush the ring in his fist if need be, incapacitating the robot as effectively as cutting the strings on a marionette. "Where are we?" he demanded. "I have brought you to my realm." "That is not an answer!" Clay snapped. "It will suffice." "I demand to know how you have done this!" The voice remained maddeningly calm and measured. "You are in no position to make demands. Nevertheless, your questions will be answered. You have been brought here for a purpose." "I serve no one's purposes but my own." "Listen to what I have to say and you may reconsider," the voice said. "I serve one who seeks servants in this dimension." Clay's eyes narrowed suspiciously. This dimension? This opened up new worlds of possibility. "And who is your employer, then?" "That will become clear to you in time." "Then what is your offer? I detest games." "Behold!" thundered the voice. A moment passed in silence, and Clay was about to ask what precisely he should be beholding, when a sphere of energy appeared in the air before him. He squinted at the globe, thinking he could discern shapes within it. "This is a record of some battle," he said aloud. "That's a Shank Guild cruiser! But that faction is extinct!" His eyes widened as the image in the globe was destroyed in a fiery explosion. "These ones displeased Her Majesty." Clay's face registered a growing awareness. "And you think that I might ... please Her Majesty?" "You would have power such as you have never seen. The same power that destroyed that ship and more. Knowledge to rival all." Clay affected disinterest, folding his hands over his expansive stomach. "And what exactly makes you think I'm interested? Nothing you have shown me is outside my own grasp. Even your possession of this ship could be accomplished with my own technology." "YOU SEEK PROOF?" The voice amplified to the point where it shook the bridge, and for a moment Clay thought he had made a mistake. A moment later he was certain of it. Before his eyes, the familiar sight of his bridge vanished, replaced by a long, empty corridor that seemed to hang amidst nothing- ness. No, not nothing -- with his prosthetic eye he detected high-level dimensional reactions all around him. He drew back in fear as towering shadows sprung up on all sides, blacker even than the mad energies surrounding them. "Kneel!" The voice was softer here, but carried greater weight. Clay fell prostrate to his knees, trembling. Something like music filled his mind, but like no music he had ever heard. It frightened him. And for the first time in countless years he considered the possibility of something greater than himself. "Bow down!" the voice rang out; it pierced him like a spear. "Bow down before Lady Tokimi!" ========================================================================= CONTINUED IN: Washu's Lullaby - Part VII: The Mother =========================================================================