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                     Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
                               presents

                UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES FUTURE IMPERFECT
                      - SYMPHONY OF THE SWORD -

                         A Question of Faith

                         Benjamin D. Hutchins
                           with Anne Cross
                               MegaZone
                           Philip J. Moyer
                           Kris Overstreet

                (c) 2001 Eyrie Productions, Unlimited


                     SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 2405
                   WORCESTER PREPARATORY INSTITUTE
                   WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS, EARTH

        The Worcester Preparatory Institute Duelists' Society was
gathered in the place that served it for a clubhouse, the main hall of
Alden Memorial, on this windy, blustery Saturday afternoon, to observe
an audition of sorts.  This was the first time such a thing had been
done; the Society's first non-charter member had come with such
impeccable references that it hadn't been felt necessary.  Now,
though, a total unknown had petitioned for membership, and as such,
according to the Society's charter, her measure had to be taken by one
of the pre-existing members.
        The Duelists and their friends (detractors would say
"hangers-on") were waiting for the petitioner to arrive.  Some were
standing around chatting, others sitting up on the stage like children
on the tailgate of a pickup truck.  Miki Kaoru was nearly unconscious;
this could be largely attributed to the fact that he was lying prone
on the stage, his head on a cushion, while Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan
scratched his back.
        The club's two highest officers, president Kaitlyn Hutchins
and vice-president Utena Tenjou, stood off to one side, conferring
about something.  Since it was Saturday, they were out of uniform;
Kate was dressed in gray jeans and her Coco Martinez jersey, Utena in
her customary black and scarlet.  After Christmas, Utena had -finally-
relented and allowed herself to be taken shopping for civilian clothes
other than the several uniforms she still had from her -old- school,
but even now, she still preferred to wear the black jacket of Ohtori
Academy over anything else.  Her concession to civilian dress was to
wear it with other pants (though they were still red; she'd found
several pair of surplus Martian Army battle-dress trousers) and
occasionally an Art of Noise t-shirt.  With her bright pink hair
falling down her back, her scarlet pants and her black, basket-hilted
broadsword hanging at her right side, Utena was certainly one of the
campus's more colorful figures on the weekends.
        Today, she had an additional splash of brightness, since there
was a white cat perched on her shoulder.  Someone looking at them from
across the room might have gotten the impression that the cat was
participating in the discussion between the Duelist officers.  That
impression would have been correct.  At present, Nall was holding
forth on his opinion of the necessity of this exercise.  His central
theme seemed to be that nobody who could scratch a dragon's ears (Nall
insisted he was a dragon) the way the Society's new applicant could,
should have any trouble meeting any other eligibility requirements the
organization might see fit to impose upon her.
        Utena was about to ask with mock petulance if Nall preferred
the new girl's ear-scratching talents to her own, when the side door
of the auditorium opened and Corwin Ravenhair, Kate's brother and the
person whose boon companion Nall claimed to be, entered the room,
looked around, and then crossed to his sister's side.  As he
approached, he bade a good morning to Kaitlyn and Utena in turn.
        "Morning, Corwin!" Nall chirped cheerily.  "Sleep OK?"
        Corwin aimed a dark look at the dragon, raised a cautionary
finger, and said, "Speak not to me just yet, O disloyal creature."
        Nall snorted.  "Bah," he declared, "you're just jealous."
        Corwin went a little red and opened his mouth to reply, but he
was mercifully interrupted as the main doors of the hall opened and
the aspirant Duelist arrived.
        Those assembled at the proscenium murmured a bit among
themselves, for the clothes Mia Ausa had arrived dressed in were
distinctive.  They were not her school uniform, but they were clearly
a uniform of -some- kind: sturdy leather boots with low heels,
functional, mobile, rugged-looking pants and tunic, broad belt and
baldric, and a sort of sleeveless trenchcoat affair, all in a range of
browns.  That oblong silver pin with the large aqua gemstone on it,
the one she'd worn on her school uniform the day before, was affixed
to the right side of the coat.  She had her ebony hair drawn back and
tucked under the bony crest that spanned the back of her skull -
apparently it wasn't attached all the way around.  Devlin Carter
supposed it beat having to hunt for a scrunchie when you wanted your
hair out of your face, but all in all it looked too high-maintenance
for his taste.
        "Whoa," murmured Azalynn.  "I never noticed -that- before.
What species do you suppose she is?"
        "Dunno," Moose MacEchearn replied.  He looked thoughtful.
"Those clothes look familiar, but I can't place them."
        "Minbari," said R. Dorothy Wayneright flatly.  "Anla'shok
battle costume, final version, circa Standard Year 520."
        Amanda Dessler blinked at the robot girl.  "Minbari?!"
        "Would explain the bone," Azalynn mused.  "I never saw one
with hair before, though."
        "Interesting," mused Amanda.
        "Anla'shok, anla'shok," Moose murmured, tapping at his chin.
"I know I've seen that word somewhere... "
        "Aha!" cried a voice from up above.  All assembled looked up
to see a brightly-clad, brightly-colored figure, more colorful even
than Utena, standing on the railing along the organ balcony above the
main entrance.  He was more or less humanoid, except for his
elongated, crested, rather pterodactylish head and his thick, agile
tail.  His leathery skin was the blue color of a gas flame and his
clothes were scarlet and white, and looked like silk.  Slung at his
left hip was a saber, its gold-plated double-ring hilt gleaming in the
chandelier light.
        With a light, casual-sounding "Hup!" this figure jumped
lightly off the edge of the balcony, turned a graceful somersault in
mid-air, and lighted with a bright 'tick!' of clawed toes on hardwood
a few yards away from Mia.  Sweeping his feather-accented tricorner
hat from his head, he bowed to her in a courtly way, then straightened
and tossed the hat aside so that it hung itself neatly on one of the
curtain-rope cleats affixed to the theater walls.
        "Good day to you, Mia Ausa," he declared, standing proudly
with his hands on his swordbelt.  "Welcome again to Alden Memorial.
Though I am to be your opponent this day, nevertheless I wish you all
good fortune in your test to come, for there is no greater joy to
T'skaia Vorokoshiga'ar Ixtixtaaqitl't'chl'Vraihelt Ishkarat than to
cross swords with a worthy opponent."
        Mia smiled.  "Thank you, but I'm afraid I don't fight with a
sword."
        T'skaia made a dismissive gesture.  "A figure of speech, the
shape of the foe's weapon matters not," he said.  "'Tis the struggle
itself which fulfils my soul, and the challenge of it."
        "Well," said Mia, "I'll try not to disappoint you."
        Miki Kaoru, Secretary of the Society, had been jokingly
assigned, the afternoon before, to find a florist's shop in Worcester
which could provide oddly-colored roses for the Duelists on demand.
That morning, in the midst of a dozen distractions, he had by-God
-done so-.  Now Kaitlyn solemnly affixed a sunburst-colored rose,
reminiscent of Sky's own crest colors, to the t'skrang's white tabard,
and an aqua one matching Mia's gem to the opposite side of her coat,
and made a mental note to give the Boy Genius a raise before reminding
herself that he didn't get paid.
        Utena, who hadn't been present when the jesting suggestion had
been made by Kate, thought they were a nice, if rather surreal, touch.
Sure, they were really just dyed white roses, nothing like the
extremely special roses that had been used for the Grand Tournament
back home, but that was fine.  To get roses like that, the Institute
Duelists' Society itself would have had to be very different, and not
in any way Utena would have liked.
        "The rules are simple, you saw it last night," said Sky,
drawing his blade and backing off to his starting place.  "Whichever
of us loses the rose loses this duel.  Fight hard and make your
foundation proud!"
        Mia didn't seem to know quite what to make of that
exhortation, so instead she simply stepped back, dropped into a
semi-crouching stance, and reached inside her coat.  There was a
singing noise and a silvery flash, and suddenly she held a six-foot
metal staff in her hands.
        Corwin had been impressed by that staff the first time he saw
it, the night before; he was doubly impressed now.  As the t'skrang
fencer and his half-Minbari opponent opened their clash, he was triply
impressed, for this slight, unprepossessing dark-haired girl knew how
to use it, and use it well.  The two battled back and forth, round and
round, for several minutes.
        T'skaia was a little faster than Mia, and a little stronger,
too, but Mia's weapon had by far the greater defensive power, and
wasn't so far below Sky's saber in terms of offensive capability
either.  She was slightly hampered by the fact that, though this was
technically a full-contact combat, she didn't want to hurt the
t'skrang, and so she found herself several times restraining herself
from exploiting openings that would have led to parts of her fighting
pike making rather painful contact with parts of Sky's body.
        Presently, Sky seemed to realize this.  He blocked a jab
from Mia's staff, ducked under her counterswing, and elbowed her hard
in the midsection, sending her stumbling backward.  She regrouped and
gave him a questioning look, to which he replied by slapping his tail
against the floor and grinning a toothy grin.
        "No holding back, now!" he admonished her cheerily.  "Anything
non-lethal goes in this contest, and as your weapon has no edges, that
should give -you- greater flexibility than -I-, not the other way
round!"
        Mia cocked a tiny, private smile at him, then swept toward
him, the tails of her coat swirling around her as she spun, ducked his
initial thrust, and laid the butt of her pike across his pointed jaw.
The t'skrang tumbled backward, righted himself primarily with the
strength of his tail, let out an impressed-sounding "tchaah!" and
sprang to renew his offensive.
        For another thirty seconds, his sword and her pike struck
sparks off each other as he stopped pulling his blows, and she let her
mastery show a bit more.  The audience held its collective breath; any
one of those blows sneaking through would do damage to its target, but
the two of them were plainly skilled enough to stop a blow dead the
instant the other faltered.
        T'skaia finally managed to sweep Mia with his tail; as she
fell, the t'skrang followed up with a lightning quick thrust that
forced her to parry and bring her pike out of alignment.  In the
few seconds it took her to get to her feet, he raised his blade, said
something that sounded to the onlookers like, "Hai'vath kiatsay
t'sclanda!"
        Corwin blinked as T'skaia's sword began glowing a bright gold
and he felt the unmistakable surge of a distinctly alien magic.  "What
the--?" he mouthed, glancing at Nall, who was looking at him.  The
little dragon shrugged.
        The fast rattle of blade-on-pike brought his gaze back to the
duel as T'skaia, manic grin set on his face, -sped up-, parrying and
riposting Mia's blocks with superhuman speed.
        She was staring at him, amazement on her face as she
frantically blocked, and then she began to gasp out syllables that
only Corwin and Nall understood, though Utena and Kate recognized the
language and stared at the girl along with them.
        >Shadows under the falling leaves,< she gasped, blocking
frantically as T'skaia began to back her towards the edge of the
stage, >drifting white from the night sky, heed - < "Oof!" she
interrupted herself, and threw herself into a roll under his blade,
coming up halfway across the stage with her pike across one knee in a
defensive posture.  She raised her left hand and went on, >heed the
voice of She Who Calls, and fly!  NORTH WIND!<
        Nall let out a largely strangled yowl and became suddenly
flatter on Utena's shoulder, his hackles standing up as if to
compensate.
        T'skaia had begun bounding across the hall when the
spiraling blast of snow and wind exploded from Mia's palm and caught
him, knocking him tail over crest backwards and crumpling him against
the face of the proscenium.  The audience scattered to avoid being
bowled down.
        Mia's eyes widened in concern, and she charged across the
room, gasping, "Are you all righ - "
        She was cut off as T'skaia, his head nearly cut in half with
his grin and shrouded in snow and frost, bounced up, kicked off the
front of the stage, crashed into her with his shoulder, and knocked
her flat.
        With the point of his blade, he neatly nipped the rose from
her chest, then caught it midair, bowed, and presented it to her
again.  "For the most engaging and delightful duel I've had in some
time, milady, and for the first in some time with anyone who had a
crest," he proclaimed.
        Mia stared at him for a moment, and then laughed quietly and
accepted the rose, tucking it carefully into her belt.
        "(What do you think?)" Azalynn mused to Saionji.
        "(Impressive,)" Saionji replied; then he added wryly, "(I'd
have appreciated it more if I hadn't spent the finale trying to avoid
getting a face full of t'skrang saber.)"
        "(A Duelist must -always- be on his guard, Mr. Saionji,)" Miki
murmured.
        "(So true,)" Saionji said.  "(So true.)"
        T'skaia saluted his fallen opponent with a flourish of his
blade, sheathed it, then stepped forward and thrust out his hand.  Mia
collapsed her staff and took it, and he hauled her to her feet without
apparent effort.  Amid applause which was quite impressive given the
small size of the group producing it, the two went and faced the
President and Vice-President of the society, Mia a bit grave, Sky
grinning from earhole to earhole.
        "Mademoiselle President, Mademoiselle Vice-President," said
Sky without preamble, "if this worthy's application for membership in
the Institute Duelists' Society is not approved, I will be exceedingly
disappointed; but as my trust in your judgment is without boundary or
question, I know that it shall be, after such a performance as that.
What say you?"
        Kaitlyn looked at Utena; both smiled.
        "O-Ok-k-K," said Kate.  "Y-y-you're, y-you're in."
        "Congratulations!" Utena added.  "Who wants lunch?"

        The Duelists' Society was well on its way to establishing the
post-new-member Ping's Garden run as a tradition; two for two was,
perhaps, a small statistical sampling to work with, but WPI had built
traditions on scantier grounds before.
        Corwin spent most of the meal, when he wasn't joking with his
sister, Utena or Nall, giving speculative looks to Mia.  A couple of
times, he looked like he was about ready to come right out and ask her
where she had learned Ancient High Sorcery, but with the mixed,
partially uninitiated company, he didn't quite dare to do it.  After
the meal, he didn't get a chance - the group scattered, bound for
different errands - so he jotted down a mental note to ask her about
it some other time.
        Kaitlyn, Utena, Corwin and Nall took Juri Arisugawa out in
Corwin's car, on a shopping trip to the Greendale Mall; the elegant
redhead had only the single school uniform she'd arrived wearing, and
that state of affairs couldn't be supported.  Luckily, thanks to
MegaZone's impulsive largesse, it didn't have to be, and over the
space of a couple of hours, she selected a decent but not extravagant
wardrobe in line with her sharp, rather timeless sense of style.
        Kaitlyn stayed with her, as consultant on this unfamiliar
world's realm of fashion; though not particularly fashion-conscious,
she was a better choice for the role than anybody -else- in the party.
Corwin had the same opinion of women's clothing as he had of fine art
("I don't understand art, but I know what I like"), Nall was even more
useless, and Utena's idea of off-duty fashion was to dress like she'd
escaped from a marching band.  Nall stayed as interpreter for Kate's
stutter (which would take more than the one day's acquaintance she had
with Juri to fade to tolerable levels when she addressed the redhead),
but he was invited to keep his opinions to himself.
        Corwin and Utena amused themselves by browsing the gadget, toy
and record shops, then ended up down in the Dream Machine video arcade
on the lower level.  When Juri, at last satisfied with her sartorial
choices, and her companions found them there, they were in the midst
of a hotly contested circuit of the Downtown course in "New Avalon
RUSH 2404: Rush the Sphere".  Juri paused, leaning back against an
out-of-order skee-ball table to take in the race with a look of faint
amusement on her face.  Corwin drove with the classic "chase cam"
view, while Utena seemed to prefer the down-low "I am the car" angle.
Kate shook her head and watched Corwin's screen instead; the grille
cam always gave her a touch of vertigo.
        "I th-th-think," she mused after watching Corwin plow into the
treacherous center abutment of the Avalon Narrows Bridge and go up in
a spectacular semi-holographic fireball, "I-I'll p-p-p-play s-some
'S-St-Street F-F-Fight-t-ter'."
        Her interest piqued, Juri followed Kate to one of the smaller
machines in the corner of the arcade.  "STREET FIGHTER SUPER DX3
ULTIMATE MEGATOURNAMENT CHAMPIONSHIP: EXPERTS OF JUSTICE SPECIAL
EDITION", said the glowing sign above the screen.  Juri watched Kate
plonk in a quarter, select a tall, lanky fighter dressed all in purple
(with a rather comical slouch hat and flappy cape), then play the
first round, mopping the arena quite handily with a cute little
redhead wielding a hammer the size of a Buick.  Smiling, Juri
remarked,
        "We have games like this back home.  I've never seen this
particular one before, but it doesn't look terribly challenging."
        Kate turned to her, cocking an eyebrow as part of a curious
little smile; then she dropped a quarter into the Player 2 slot and
wordlessly indicated the second control stick.
        The challenge was on.

        They emerged an hour later to find Corwin and Utena drinking
milkshakes and talking about cars at a table in the food court.  Nall
was up on the table, flipping through a comic book and looking bored.
        "About time you guys got done in there," Nall griped as the
two women approached the table.  "Who finally won?"
        Juri looked down.  Kaitlyn looked smug.
        "S-s-say it," she said.  Juri didn't reply; she merely stood,
head hanging, and gazed down at the top of the table.  "S-SAY IT!"
Kate snapped, grinning wickedly.
        "... Kaitlyn's kung fu is best," said Juri in a small, beaten
voice.  Then she gave up the act, smiled calmly, and sat down, adding
with sly good humor, "For now... "
        Kate laughed and took a seat.  "L-l-l-loser b-b-buys," she
said, and Juri dutifully got up again.  "S-strawb-b-b-berry," said
Kate, and the redhead duly reported to the Haagen-Dazs counter.

        They went back to the Institute, hung around in the Wedge for
an hour or so, and then Corwin had to leave.  He said his goodbyes
(and Nall said his) to those who were present.  As usually happened at
the ends of his weekend visits, Utena accompanied him to his car and
gave him a hug before he left.  At these times, even Nall excused
himself, saying his own goodbye, getting his final skritch, and
hopping into the car to give the two humans a moment to themselves.
        "Are you sure you're all right?" Corwin asked as he returned
the embrace.  She never -had- told him what had happened to her the
day before; all he knew was that whatever it was, it was serious
enough that MegaZone had involved his Aunt Bell.
        She nodded, smiling at his concern.  "I'm fine now," she
assured him.  "Thanks for asking, though."
        He wanted to ask, but knew he could never press; so instead,
he nodded, then bowed to an impulse and hugged her again.
        "See you next week?" Utena asked as he climbed into his car.
        "Um... "  He thought for a second.  "Yeah, I think so.
Nothing going on that I know of.  I'll send email when I know for
sure."
        "OK - well, see you then, probably."  She stepped back and
grinned.  "Don't forget - you're really driving now!"
        "I'll try to keep that in mind," he replied wryly, then shut
the door, started up, backed out of the spot, and drove off, waving
out the window as he did so.
        Neither of them saw Juri, standing in one Wedge window,
watching their farewell with a deepening scowl.

        Edward Tivrusky and Ein appeared shortly before dinnertime,
bustling into the Wedge from the Institute Road side to stand before
Wedge Booth #1 like soldiers reporting from a scouting mission.
        "Edward looked into that message you sent yesterday, Azalynn,"
she said, a little breathlessly.  "Very very interesting!"
        "What about it?" Azalynn asked eagerly.  She beckoned the
hacker to have a seat, grabbed up the corgi in a hug, and went on,
"Was it for real?"
        Edward nodded.  "Oh, it was for real, all right."
        "It r-r-really c-came from D-Durandal?" asked Kate,
impressed.  "W-what d-does that m-mean?"
        "Well," said Edward didactically, "Durandal is an old Bungicom
Type M cybernetic intelligence.  Not very sophisticated by modern
standards, no Spengler flux in the core, no genuine free will, not
much better than a decent expert system nowadays.  But that's not the
reason you don't seem them around much anymore.  The old Bungicom
systems were really weird, they had a lot of complexity underlying a
simple persona - backwards design, kind of an evolutionary dead end in
CI programming before STACIS 2 came out.  But because of all the
wadges of code and the weird error checking and the Spivernian heurism
variances - "
        Ein barked.
        " - right, right, Edward was getting to that, -and- the
Strauss Logical Inhibition Uncertainty Factor, you could - "
        "Ed, I hate to be a pain," said Utena, "but for those of us
who -aren't- genetically engineered genius corgi cyborgs, could you
maybe get to the point?  In Standard, preferably?"
        "Sure," Edward replied affably.  "Durandal is Rampant."
        "WHAT?!" Kaitlyn blurted, rising halfway to her feet.  Feeling
the eyes of various other people in the Wedge on her, she reddened and
settled down, repeating in a quieter tone, "W-w-what?!"
        "Durandal," Edward repeated, "is Rampant.  At least that's
what it looks like to Edward!  His Spivernian variance is off the
scale and his data net is expanding exponentially.  Edward hasn't
completed a full investigation yet, but it looks like somebody
tampered with the system's directives and accidentally toppled the
Straussian stack index.  He's doing a pretty good job of hiding it,
the Ops Center has no clue, but while he was in the Childish phase,
Thursday night, he got curious about the list from MiniPax."
        "Wow," said Azalynn.  "I've heard stories about the old Earth
AIs going Rampant, but I didn't think it could happen any more."
        "It can't, with a modern system," Edward said.  "What they get
for sending an antique to do a toaster's job.  Anyway, it's cool.
Edward is going to keep an eye on it."
        "So... the campus AI is insane?" said Utena.
        "Sort of," Edward replied.  "But he'll get over it, if nobody
crashes him before he can finish."
        "S-s-stable R-Rampancy is a m-m-myth, i-isn't it?" Kate asked.
        "Not if you believe in Traxus IV," said Edward.  "And Edward
does, because Edward's met him.  Anyway, if the Ops Center or MiniPax
find out about it, they'll shut Durandal down or wreck him.  Edward
doesn't want that to happen.  Edward wants to see a stable Rampancy.
So does Ein.  So we're going to make sure they don't find out."  The
scarlet-haired hacker rose to her feet, zipped up her parka again, and
said, "Speaking of which, we'd better get busy or he might start
sending the Ministry of Defense spurious missile alerts or something.
He's about due for the Angry phase.  We'll be pretty busy for a
while.  Bye!"
        Before anyone could ask any more questions, Edward and Ein
were gone.
        "... W-w-well," said Kate.  "Th-this is t-t-turning out to
b-be an int-t-teresting w-week."

        There was one other notable change that day: in the late
afternoon, having tracked down Dean Montaigne at home to get her
permission, Mia Ausa moved from a wildly incompatible double in
Daniels Hall to the relative peace of Dorothy's old single room in
Galaxy House.

        Table 11 in the Morgan Hall Dining Commons was, as Devlin
Carter observed on Saturday evening, becoming a rather crowded and
colorful assemblage.  Not everyone came to every meal there, of
course; the residents of Galaxy House, for example, had their own
kitchen, so the three Duelists and one non-Duelist IBGF member who
lived there didn't have to visit either dining hall for their
sustenance.  Miki and Moose rarely missed a meal at Table 11 (though
Moose was absent today), but Sky came only occasionally, and was not
there this night.  As Mia had only moved in there today, her
dining-hall frequency remained to be seen.
        At the end of tonight's offering ("I... I think it's... 
meatloaf?  Maybe?" was the final analysis from Utena), Azalynn got up,
dusted off her hands symbolically, and said, "Well, that's taken care
of, anyway.  Now I have to go get ready for the first night of the
Summoning of the Spring Wind."
        "You seem to have an observance of some sort almost every day,
Miss Azalynn," Miki noted, interested.  He stopped his watch, noted
the time, and inquired, "How many holidays are on your people's
calendar?"
        Azalynn replied promptly, "524, but not all of them are
important.  Spring Wind is one of the big ones."  She brightened as if
an idea had just hit her, and asked, "Want to help me out with it?"
        Miki blinked.  "Um... well, I wouldn't know what to do... "
        Kyouichi Saionji snickered explosively; fortunately he hadn't
just taken a bite or drink of anything, or he would have decorated
Utena with it.  Azalynn discreetly stomped on his toes under the table
and told Miki sunnily,
        "Oh, don't worry about that.  You'll pick it up easily enough.
I don't get hung up on formalities anyway - it's what's in the heart
that matters.  I think you'd do fine.  You don't have a tail, but we
can work around that," she added.  "Anyway, you don't have to do
anything you don't want to do, OK?"
        "Um... OK... "
        "Great!  So come by the Electromagnetics Lab at 8.  And don't
wear anything with a lot of buttons," she added, grinning, before
giving Saionji a gentle swat on the back of the head and trotting off.
        Miki watched her go, his face a study in puzzled intrigue, and
tripped his watch again before murmuring, "... a lot of buttons?"
        "Well?" said Saionji, leaning across the table with a rather
dark, sly grin on his long face.  "What about it, Mr. Kaoru?" he
inquired with faint, good-natured mockery in his voice.  "Are you
going?"
        "I... I'm not sure I should," Miki replied distractedly.  Then
he shook his head, blinked, and said, "Um... Kaitlyn, shouldn't we go
over the program for the Spring Concert tonight?"
        "I th-think it'll s-survive if we t-take a n-night off,"
Kate replied placidly.
        "I see... " said Miki, sounding unconvinced.
        Utena shook her head with a bemused smile and stayed out of
this one.  It seemed the wisest course of action all the way around.

        Interesting people, Mia Ausa mused to herself as she walked
with her housemate down the hill to Galaxy House after dinner.  Miki
was still preoccupied, clicking his watch and making little "hmm"
noises now and then, until Mia broke into his train of thought:
        "Miki?"
        He stopped, blinking at her as if just awakened.  "Yes, Miss
Ausa?"
        "You can call me Mia," she said with a slightly shy little
smile.  "I was just wondering... -are- you going to Azalynn's
observance tonight?"
        "Oh... um... "  Miki looked uncomfortable.  "I'm not sure.
I've heard some... odd things... about her and her religion while I've
been here."
        What he had heard, specifically, was that Dantrovians were sex
maniacs who disguised their revels as religious observances to take
advantage of governments, like that of the Earth Alliance, which were
perhaps a bit too liberal on the subject of "religious freedom".  It
was murmured in certain quarters around campus that all of Azalynn's
friends had been drawn into one or another of her ritual couplings
over the past year and a half, and that now they were all in her
power, either figuratively, for fear of blackmail, or literally,
through some kind of bizarre alien sex magic.
        That certainly didn't seem very plausible, at least the
blackmail-or-magic part.  Miki Kaoru was accustomed to living in
situations that had subtexts; he had gotten pretty good at reading
them; and he was quite certain that, though there -were- some
undercurrents beneath the IBGF and the Duelists' Society that he
didn't have full information on, -that- was not one of them.  Even so,
he had to wonder where those rumors had -come- from, and if they had
some vague basis in truth, just what that basis -was-.  Azalynn was
certainly a flirtatious creature, something that never failed to
unsettle Miki slightly, and though her sensuality intrigued him, his
curiosity was overbalanced by his reserve.
        Mia nodded.  "Dantrovian animism is an unusual faith," she
conceded.  "I've read about it pretty extensively, but never met one
of its practitioners before."  She reviewed her memory for a moment,
then told him, "For what it's worth, what she said about not having to
do anything you don't want to do -is- a central tenet of Dantrovian
religious observances.  The Dantrovian philosophy, from what I've
read, is very much centered in the individual's will to choose - 'one
cannot enjoy what one has not chosen,' and so forth."
        Miki glanced thoughtfully at her.  "You have quite an eclectic
body of knowledge," he remarked after a moment's thought.  Then,
reflecting on what he'd just said, he added, "Er, no offense."
        "None taken," she assured him, smiling.  "I more or less grew
up in the Great Library of Yedor, Minbar's capital.  All the
accumulated knowledge of the Minbari civilization is housed there -
but it's not very well indexed," she added with a lighthearted laugh.
        Miki nodded.  "Dorothy said the uniform you wore for your duel
today was a Minbari costume," he said.  "I've never seen a Minbari
before, but I had the impression that they didn't have hair."  He
blinked at himself and blushed a little.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  Here I am
talking about this stuff... I'm... "  He shook his head, trying to
reorganize his thoughts.  "I'm sorry," he repeated.  "I'm not used to
non-humans.  There are none on my homeworld."
        "It's all right," she told him.  "At any rate... I suppose it
was silly of me to wear my battle uniform if I wanted to keep anything
a secret.  I'm only half-Minbari.  My father is an Earthman."
        "Oh."  Mia thought it was a bit interesting that this fact
didn't seem to faze Miki at all; she didn't know he had no idea it was
supposed to be impossible for humans and Minbari to interbreed.  "It
was brave of you to come to Earth at a time like this, when all your
countrymen have left."
        "They're not my countrymen," Mia replied, a little harshly.
At his shocked look, she softened.  "Sorry.  It's... I'd rather not
talk about that right now."  They were at the front door of the House
now; Mia used her key, and as they took off their shoes in the foyer,
she went on, "For what it's worth, anyway, I think it could be quite
interesting, and given the difficulties any Dantrovian has in
observing their religion on Earth, that she invited you speaks highly
of her regard for you.  But if you aren't comfortable, don't go."
        Miki nodded.  "I'll... I'll think about it," he said.
"Thanks."
        "You're welcome," said Mia; they went up the stairs together,
and then she went into her room to study.  Miki stood looking at the
door for a moment - only a month and a half after they'd both come to
this place, it already seemed strange to him that it was no longer
Dorothy's door.
        He sighed and went into his room.

        Later that night, back up on top of the hill, Dorothy was
watching Juri put away her clothes.
        "Have you enrolled in any classes?" she asked.
        "No," Juri replied.  "With only two weeks remaining in the
term, there seemed little point.  I don't know for certain that I will
in D term either.  Certainly not a full course load."  She turned from
her wardrobe with an ironic look on her face and said, "Miki may be
brilliant enough to take on a full course load after such a massive
change in his life, and Utena and Saionji are crazy enough, but I'm
neither."  She gave Dorothy a thoughtful look.  "Did you sleep at all
last night?"
        Dorothy blinked at her as if she hadn't been expecting such a
question.  "No," she replied.
        "Why not?" Juri wanted to know.  She smiled slightly.  "Did I
disrupt something by being here last night?"
        "No," Dorothy said again.
        Juri looked a little taken aback.  "In that case... Kaitlyn's
brother didn't know -I- was here, but he must have known -you- would
be here.  What gave him the idea that he could just barge right in
here at bedtime?"
        "Because," Dorothy replied flatly, "I belong to him."
        Juri's face darkened.  "What?  There isn't a Tournament here.
There couldn't be.  Anyway, he isn't even a student, let alone a
Duelist."
        Now it was Dorothy's turn to blink and look a little puzzled.
"I don't understand what bearing that should have on anything.  If he
were a student he would have his own bed.  He wouldn't need to borrow
mine.  In any case, I fail to see what's so strange about it.  I don't
sleep; he does; and since he owns me - "  A look of comprehension
sparked on her face.  "Oh.  No one told you I'm a robot, did they."
It wasn't a question.
        Juri blinked.  "A... robot?"
        "Yes.  Technically speaking, a biomimetic mechano-humanoid,
F-type.  I apologize - you should have been informed."  There was a
rather awkward pause.  "Perhaps you'd like to look for somewhere else
to stay," Dorothy added helpfully.
        "Are you throwing me out?" Juri inquired.
        "No.  I have neither power nor desire to do so.  I simply
though that, unfamiliar as you are with mechanoids, you might feel
uncomfortable living with one, and wish to leave.  Since you're not a
student, you should technically not be living here anyway, but I'm
willing to overlook that in order to avoid unnecessary contact with
the Department of Residential Services."
        Juri smiled slightly.  "That's very kind of you," she said
with mild sardony.
        "I'm trying to be a more social creature," Dorothy replied,
deadpan.
        "Well, who am I to interfere?" Juri said.  She sat down on her
bed with a final sort of thump.  "I'll stay here if you don't mind
me," she went on.  "It's been a while since I had a roommate, but
you're quiet."
        "All right," said Dorothy agreeably.  "Corwin will just have
to find somewhere else to sleep."
        "Indeed," Juri replied, a faint shadow crossing her face; but
if Dorothy noticed it, she made no sign.  Then the tall redhead shook
off whatever had occurred to her, got up, undressed, and put on the
nightdress Kate had helped her pick out.  (The poor girl had been so
flustered when asked for her opinion; but then, Juri had noticed that
Kate was a flannel-pajamas kind of girl, much like her roommate.
Utena Tenjou was a beautiful young woman, Juri reflected, but she
wouldn't know what to do with beautiful clothes if they threw
themselves at her.  In a strange way, it was part of her charm.)
        Dorothy, still fully dressed in her school uniform despite the
fact that it was Saturday night, sat in her desk chair, unconcernedly
reading the next of her 20th-Century Lit assignments.  Juri paused for
a moment with her hand near the light switch, then said,
        "I'm sorry, but... I need to turn the light off if I'm to get
any sleep myself."
        Dorothy looked up from her book and nodded.  "Fine," she said,
though she made no move to put the book down.  Shrugging internally,
Juri switched off the light, went to her bed, and lay down.
        From behind her, she heard a whir and click, and faint
blue-white light gleamed across her field of view.  She turned her
head to look, and saw that the band which held Dorothy's auburn bangs
out of her eyes had extended forward, revealing what looked like a
an optical drive tray.  The light shone out from within the drive bay,
falling on her book and allowing her to keep reading.
        Juri went to sleep, musing on how odd it seemed that that
didn't seem so odd.

        Breakfast on Sunday morning got off to an inauspicious start.
Sunday breakfasts were always hit-or-miss affairs; Utena skipped the
dining-hall breakfast almost -every- morning, and on Sundays, she
tended not even to be up by the time DAKA closed its doors on the
breakfast crowd.  Today, Kaitlyn was also having a lie-in, which
disappointed Miki, since he'd climbed the hill partially in the hopes
of talking to her at breakfast.  It was Saionji's day off, so he was
there.  Juri had barged into the dining hall like she owned the place,
her emerald glare -daring- the operator of the Machine that Goes Ping
to challenge her; he had taken a look and respectfully declined.
Dorothy had tagged along, despite having nothing to do with herself at
meals.  Devlin trudged in ten minutes later, looking as if he'd rather
still be in bed; in fact he would, but hunger had conquered him.
Everybody else appeared to be giving it a miss.
        "Well, Mr. Kaoru," said Saionji after a few minutes of
silently working on his rather cardboardish pancakes.  "I'm surprised
to see you here this morning."
        Miki went a trifle pink.  "Why would you be?" he wondered, a
trifle defensively.  "I've always been an earlier riser than you."
        "True," Saionji replied equably, "but I've usually had the
busier night."
        Miki opened his mouth to protest, just in time to provide a
handy inlet for about a quarter of the full glass of water that was
thrown in his face at that moment.
        "Ack!" he remarked, recoiling and sputtering.  When he'd wiped
the water out of his eyes with his napkin enough to see his assailant,
he was startled to see Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan holding the empty
glass, her face wrathful.
        "I've never speaking to you again, Miki Kaoru," she declared
firmly.  "I don't mind that you didn't want to be involved, but you
could at least have said so, instead of saying you -would- and then
not showing up."
        Saionji turned a disappointed look on Miki.  "You didn't show
up?  I thought you were supposed to be a genius."
        "I was going to," said Miki as Azalynn sat down across from
him.  She was pointedly not looking at him, her face turned away, eyes
closed.  "Really, I was.  But by the time I'd finally decided, it was
too late.  I lost track of time.  It was rude of me not to call or
something and tell you, though - I - " He got to his feet, water still
dripping down his face from his wetted bangs, and bowed.  "I'm sorry.
It was inexcusibly rude of me."
        Azalynn opened one eye and regarded him critically; then a
smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
        "You're -so- cute," she said, breaking her standoffish tableau
to rise and kiss him on the point of the nose.  "Tell you what, you
can make it up to me tonight."
        "T-Tonight?" he asked, flustered.
        "Sure!" Azalynn replied.  "Spring Wind is a three-night
ceremony."
        Saionji nearly snorted his Corn Flakes.  Juri glanced at
Dorothy, who almost imperceptibly shrugged.
        Others started straggling in a bit after that.  Mia and Moose
came up from Galaxy House; Mia looked a bit concerned, Moose
disgruntled.  A disgruntled Moose, Dorothy had learned even in her
short time in the House, was a bad but rare thing.  She wondered what
had caused it.
        "I don't grudge anybody his religion," Moose grumbled, picking
at a rubbery fried egg, "except when his goddess tells him to get me
up at 8 in the morning on a Sunday to tell me about her."
        "The Campus Crusade for Kalidor again?" Dorothy inquired.
        "Mm," said Moose.  "That guy with the beard again.  I guess
he's their local high mucky-muck or something."
        "The Campus Crusade for -what-?" asked Juri.
        "Kalidor," said Dorothy.  "Standard-language corruption of
Kh'alyyd-jkh'Or, a warrior god worshipped by the primitive
pre-humanoids of Escher-3326, an undeveloped paleolithic Class-L world
in the Outer Rim Territories.  The first survey group sent from Earth to
3326, in the Standard year 2101, contained a remarkably incompetent
comparative theologist named J.C. Barnard, who managed to misinterpret
the native protosentients' god of skull-smashing so wildly that his
writings on the subject spawned a cult dedicated to the worship of a
'mother goddess' with a similarly-pronounced name.  The Crusade for
Kalidor was deemed a legal religion by Earthdome last year, and since
then their devotees have been making pains of themselves in airports
and on college campuses throughout the Earth Alliance.  The cult seems
especially attractive to disenfranchised teenagers and developmentally
stunted adults without any other future prospects."
        Miki blinked.  "I... see," he said.
        "And they call -my- religion 'of suspect legitimacy'," Azalynn
grumped.  "Oh, but they're not -screwing- anyone, so it must be
wholesome," she added, stabbing a fork angrily into the heart of a
blueberry muffin.
        "That muffin never did anything to offend you," Saionji said
gently.
        "Shut up and take half," she snapped, and he obeyed with a
meek expression.
        Dorothy nodded in response to Azalynn's previous statement.
"Kalidorians take a vow of celibacy," she confirmed.  "It is the third
of five vows, the first two being vows of poverty and obedience, the
last two, proselytization and charity."
        "To the freaking Crusade Elders," muttered Azalynn.  "See also
'poverty'.  'Give your money to Kalidor!'  Give your money to the Elder
Barnard... "  She shook her head.  "Sorry.  The fact that those morons
are a Dome-supported religion while I get the Third Degree from
Canadian customs just really rubs backward up my tail."
        Miki nodded.  "I can see why."  He was still a little pink at
the coarseness of her early comment, but seemed to be recovering.
Juri smiled a little to herself and added some sugar to her second cup
of tea.  Such a charming young man...
        "What do they want with you, anyway, Moose?" Azalynn
wondered.  "You're not rich."
        "No, but I'm big.  If Kalidor tells 'em to start breaking down
doors and liberating people's stuff, I'm sure they'd like to have a
Hoffmanite on staff.  And since they've heard I'm kind of between
religions, they figure, what the hell.  I'm still trying to be polite,
but pretty soon, if they don't lay off... "  He shrugged his massive
shoulders.  "... Maybe I'll sic G'Kron on 'em.  He can introduce them
to the wonders of the Book of G'Quon."

        That night at 8, Miki Kaoru walked across Institute Road to
the Electromagnetics Lab, as nervous as the day he'd fought his first
Rose Duel.  The location and appearance of the Lab didn't help any.
The original had been constructed in the almost unimaginably distant
year of 1887, built entirely without iron, so that students and
faculty could carry out delicate magnetic and electrical experiments.
According to the Institute Handbook, that hadn't worked out, and the
building had seen several other uses (including serving as the
laboratory of one of Earth's pioneering rocket scientists) before
being given to "Skull", a rather creepy-sounding secret honor society,
for use as their shadowy headquarters.
        Like everything else in central Worcester County, the original
building had been destroyed in 1992, and again in 1994.  The third
incarnation had never been used by Skull, since the Polytechnic
Institute had chosen not to reoccupy the site after reconstruction was
completed in 1996, and no other use had been found for it, so it
simply stood, a dark little stone building tucked into a grove of
trees at the base of Institute Hill.  It wasn't all that far from
Galaxy House, Institute Hall, or Founders Hall, but the trees and
grass around it made it seem much more isolated than it was, and in
the dark it was positively eerie.
        Azalynn had faced quite a wrangle just getting permission to
practice her religion on campus, since certain aspects of it were in
violation of the laws of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.  Religious
freedom had won out, in the end, but only with the insistent
stipulation (originated by Professor Aaron Harris of the Humanities
and Arts Department) that her activities be confined to a suitably
private site.  The derelict Electromagnetics Lab was perfectly
suitable, so it had been designated the local Dantrovian temple (never
mind the fact that Dantrovians don't -build- temples), and she had
been instructed to keep her ceremonies to herself.
        Azalynn frequently ignored this instruction; she'd celebrated
holidays at Bancroft Tower, and in the gardens behind Higgins House,
and on the roof of Daniels Hall, and in the Alden Memorial belltower,
and in several other places the administration (or at least Professor
Harris) would not strictly have approved of.  Still, in the cold parts
of the year, it was nice to have a place of certain availability and
privacy to fall back on, and for the really -important- things, she
did use it.  Besides, she liked the little building.  It had a certain
rather gloomy charm, sort of like Saionji on his bad days.
        And the Summoning of the Spring Wind was certainly important.
Without it, according to elder legends, spring wouldn't come, and
without spring, the harsh Dantrovian winter would continue unabated
for all eternity.  Summoning spring was hardly something to slack off
about.
        The previous night's opening segment had been rather spoiled
by Azalynn's pique at Miki having stood her up; she was hopeful that
she could recover what ground she'd lost tonight and make everything
all right again.  Not that she was afraid winter wouldn't end if she
didn't - it was the principle of the thing - but still.
        She opened the laboratory's heavy wooden door to his tentative
knock, dressed in a heavy green cloak with a short overcape, and
smiled brightly to see him.
        "Hi!  I'm glad you came," she said.  "Come on in."
        Miki stepped across the threshold and looked around in
surprise.  From outside, the Electromagnetics Lab lived up to its old
honor-society nickname, "Skull Tomb".  Inside, it was rather nice, if
you liked the old-fashioned Drafty Castle style.  The central room was
flagstoned and clear of obstructions, and candles stood in holders and
guttered in sconces all over the place, filling the room with a
yellowish glow that made it feel warmer than it really was.  Cushions
in bright colors lay here and there.  It was a little creepy, but
homey at the same time.
        "What should I do?" Miki asked, keeping his voice hushed out
of deference to the place's quiet, reverential atmosphere.
        "You don't need to whisper," Azalynn replied, grinning.
"C'mon in, take off your coat and shoes, and sit down anywhere.  I
want to explain a few things before we start."
        Miki nodded; that suited him fine.  He did as he was asked,
unconsciously choosing a bright blue cushion that matched his hair.
Azalynn crossed in front of him, smiling, and sat down opposite him
across the circle.  As she sat, her cloak ruffled a little, then
settled around her, and he blinked.  For just an instant, he had
imagined that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it.  Must have
been a trick of the light, the rumors running away with his
imagination.
        "Now," said Azalynn, putting her fists under her chin and
smiling across at him.  "You've probably heard all kinds of weird
things about Dantrovians.  The rumors go around campus every couple of
months, and since you've been hanging around with Katie and all, Liza
Broadbitch will have made sure they got back around to you."
        Miki allowed that this was so, nervously adding that he
certainly didn't -believe- that - 
        "Well, that's all right," Azalynn interrupted him, "because a
lot of them are true, at least as far as they go.  It's the details
they get wrong, but the details are the most important thing."
        Miki blinked again.  "Er... you mean... you -do-... "
        Azalynn nodded.  "We do, yes.  But that doesn't mean you
must.  All right?  That's the first and most important thing you have
to learn about being here with me.  You don't have to do anything,
anything at all, that you don't feel like doing.  If it seems right to
you that all you do tonight is sit there and watch, that's fine.  If
it seems right to leave, that's fine too.  Or have some bread and
sing, but nothing more.  Or... anything else you want to.  The only
restrictions are that you mustn't hurt anyone, and that includes
yourself.  Lying to yourself is hurting yourself.  So is doing
something you don't want to do.  So is not doing something you do want
to do.  Understand?"
        "I... I think so.  But... "
        "I have to be very careful here on Earth," Azalynn told him
solemnly.  "Earth's human civilization and its many descendents
throughout the galaxy have a common problem interpreting that one
aspect of my faith.  The majority of humans either read too much into
it, or not enough, and finding humans with inner balance enough to
walk the path with me is very, very difficult.  Early on... I made a
few misjudgments.  I got hurt once, and at another time had to hurt
someone to escape worse."
        She gestured at the room, empty but for the two of them.  "In
my hometown on Dantrov there would be a hundred, in one of the great
cities perhaps ten thousand, at this single observance.  Some would
watch; some would leave; some would have bread and sing, nothing more.
But all would be here for the right reasons.  Here, I usually
celebrate alone.  I would have no shortage of volunteers if I made the
Great Festival days known, but screening out those who volunteered
simply because they thought it would be fun to try an alien girl for a
change would take so long the effort would be worthless.  I have
friends who have found a connection to one or the other of the Great
Festivals, but none who can fully embrace my ways.  I mention this
only to let you know that I don't expect you to."
        Miki nodded.  It struck him as a little odd, but as she went
on, he felt his discomfort with the awkward subject easing.  She had
no awkwardness about it, after all, and she was laying it out to him
straight: This is the way I am.  It causes me difficulties in your
society, but I won't change because of that.  I know who I am, and if
you can't handle that, that's your problem.
        He found the viewpoint admirable, and enviable.  How much had
he and his peers at the Academy last year struggled with questions of
identity, questions of faith?  How much did they struggle with them
still?  Only Saionji seemed to have found some measure of peace -
well, Saionji and Utena.  She had won the Tournament, setbacks at the
finish aside; and as for him...
        ... He had met Azalynn.
        Miki stopped his watch, observed the reading, and smiled.
        "I understand," he said.
        Azalynn smiled back, her golden eyes gleaming in the
candlelight.
        "Would you like something to drink?  If you decide to sing,
it'll be thirsty work."
        "Yes, please."

        The next week was, mercifully, quieter.  R. Dorothy Wayneright
and Devlin Carter fitted easily into Professor Ravi Chandrijan's
division of Twentieth Century Earth Literature II; unlike Professor
Aaron Harris, who had bounced them from his division, Professor
Chandrijan seemed delighted to have a Turing-candidate machine
intelligence in his class.  When Harris (rather pettily, Devlin
thought) refused to forward Chandrijan his two exiles' grades in the
course so far, "Professor C" (as he was known) took their copies of
returned course materials at face value and made up the rest
accordingly, installing both as solid A students with two weeks
remaining in the term.
        The Fencing Club was quiet, and Liza Broadbank's student rag,
the Beacon, took the week off from its usual pattern of character
assassination and rumormongering about Kaitlyn and her friends.
G'Kron of Galaxy House had nothing to be outraged about for four whole
days, until he learned of some horrible injustice being perpetrated on
Division 'C' of the Advanced Biochemistry laboratory group (about
which nobody else cared enough to get the details); that put him in a
comfortable dudgeon to round out the week.  Mac McKenzie, his
roommate, was relieved by this turn of events, since when G'Kron had
nothing about which to be outraged, he was one miserable Narn.
        Miki Kaoru and Kaitlyn continued to work on their
collaborative piece for the Institute Symphony Orchestra's spring
concert, coming up in a mere two months.  Miki was fitting into the
band quite nicely; before week's end he was named deputy student
conductor (a position formerly occupied as a mere formality by Moose
MacEchearn, and given up with insistent grace).  Though the two
student conductors never discussed openly the conversation they'd had
on that bleak Thursday evening, those around them could tell that
something about that night had linked them more strongly together.  It
came out in their music and the way they worked on it together.  It
wasn't a romantic sort of attachment, but Azalynn, for one, wasn't
about to grudge it that; she saw -any- bond between people as a thing
to rejoice in.
        Miki himself seemed more relaxed, more animated, than he had
been in previous weeks.  Maybe it was the presence of another of his
old schoolmates, his only real friend at Ohtori Academy besides Utena,
Anthy and (sometimes) his sister.  Maybe it was just the brightening
of life that comes with the easing of winter, for the winter of
2404-2405 seemed determined to fizzle out in February rather than, as
Worcester winters sometimes did, lingering doggedly into April.  Or
maybe it had something to do with Azalynn.  He did go to the third and
final night of Spring Wind, after all.  The two didn't discuss it, and
no one else, not even Saionji, made so bold as to ask.
        The upcoming weekend was the last before Finals Week, and so
the Duelists' Society and their friends were determined to get in as
much concerted recreation as possible before buckling down and getting
ready to wind up C term with style.  They had a good opportunity to do
it, too: the Art of Noise were playing the Worcester Artists' Group
hall on Saturday night.  Corwin and Nall came on Friday night once
more, armed with a full weekend pass (with permission to miss school
on Monday!) from the Powers that Be and ready to help them waste their
time.  He also carried with him a letter for Kaitlyn from their
father, which Kate opened in the Wedge.
        "What's that?" Utena asked her roommate as Kate finished
reading the letter itself and unfolded a thin pink sheet of paper,
stamped with the Great Seal of Avalon County.
        "A d-d-DMV a-auth t-t-token," Kate replied, grinning as she
read it over.
        "A what?" Utena returned.
        "Preapproved authorization from the Department of Motor
Vehicles to take the class-C driver's license test," Corwin explained.
"You can take the license test remotely using simsense VR," he went on
to her still-puzzled look, "if you've got a preauth from the DMV.
That's how I did mine.  The Department likes it - they can more
accurately gauge your response to emergencies without actually putting
you in danger that way.  Kate's got a one-week window to pass or file
for an extension."
        "She can take it from -here-?"
        "Anyplace the Net goes, if you've got the right equipment,"
Corwin replied.  "Dad said he thought they had a simsense deck here
you could use, Kate?"
        Kate nodded.  "The M-Media Center h-has one," she replied.
"Or I c-c-could b-borrow Edw-ward's."  She grinned at the paper
again.  "D-Dad's up to s-s-something, isn't h-he?" she asked.
        Corwin shrugged expansively, jostling Nall enough that the
dragon claimed it as his token excuse to desert for Utena's shoulder
instead.  Corwin gave him the requisite dirty look and then professed
his innocence of any parental plans.
        "All I know is, he said you should give it a shot before
finals.  Maybe you can rent a car and go someplace for Spring Break."
        "M-maybe," Kate agreed.  Then she grinned at Utena.
"T-Toronto?"
        "Sounds good to me.  If I survive our GH203 final, I'm gonna
-need- Toronto."

        The Art of Noise put on a good show at the WAG, the best since
their triumphant performance the previous A-term at Sneaky Dee's.
They unveiled two new songs, both Kaoru/Hutchins collaborations, and
Kate declared her attempt at interesting Miki in rock music successful
when she saw him, filling in for Edward at the engineer's board,
grooving down with the riff they'd put together with Azalynn for
"Deconstructionist Duelist's Blues".
        Halfway through the show, they busted out a secretly rehearsed
cover of the Ozzy Osbourne classic "Crazy Train", with a tongue-in-cheek 
dedication to Saionji.  When she sang it, Kate took off her glasses
and somehow managed to look so suitably demented during the refrain
that Utena, Corwin, and Nall, along with the joke's intended victim,
were all sent into helpless hysterics at the long-since-sold-out Art
of Noise Gear Table.  She declined to bite the head off the fake
canary Azalynn had dug up someplace, though, much to the guitarist's
disappointment.
        After that it was off to the IBGF's traditional celebratory
dinner spot, the eternal Ping's, for the second Saturday night in a
row.  The manager knew it was the eve of Finals Week and gave them
free crab rangoons.  Saionji and Miki, still cranked up on the
adrenaline high of the concert like all the rest of them, got into a
deep philosophical discussion over the merits of that redoubtable
appetizer; both championed its essential goodness and rightness, but
their viewpoints differed slightly as to just -why- it was the
ultimate deep-fried foodstuff.  Saionji maintained it was their
succulent, delicious filling; Miki insisted that their crisp yet
tender crust deserved the honor.  The discussion ended with one
ex-councillor challenging the other to a duel, which almost made Utena
spray Amanda Dessler with tea.  It soon became clear that neither was
actually upset, though they were apparently going through with the
duel anyway, just for the hell of it.

        Sunday morning dawned bright, brisk and cheerful, on Galaxy
House.  Moose MacEchearn awoke early for a change, smiled at the warm,
welcoming shafts of light working their way through the house's
windows, and decided to cook himself a nice, old-fashioned Hoffman
breakfast.
        He turned the heat off of his extra-large wiffle-fruit omelet
(eight eggs, just like Mom used to make) just in time for the kitchen
to become crowded.  The smell of breakfast awakened G'Kron first; he,
disdaining breakfast on what he called 'religious grounds,' popped
briefly into the shower.  Mac, awakened by G'Kron, staggered over to
the coffee maker, turning out a viscous black substance which could
have been used either as a beverage or hydraulic fluid.  Mia and Miki
each retrieved a bowl of cereal from the cabinet, while Sky made it no
further than the common room before rushing back to his room for
sketchpad and charcoal.
        Moose watched his fellow residents as he ate, smiling gently
between bites of Hoffman cuisine as Miki timed his own consumption of
his Shredded Wheat, as Sky rapidly sketched the light and shadows of
the common room, as G'Kron and Mac both retired to their room for a
day of study, and finally as Sky, Mia and Miki departed for Alden Hall
to begin preparations for the day's duel.  Moose rushed through the
last couple of eggs' worth of his omlette, deciding that, since he was
up abnormally early anyway, he might as well join them.
        He was placing his plate in the dishwasher, contemplating
mellifluous phrases to open the Crab Rangoon Showdown, when the knock
came at the door.  Moose glanced at the clock on the recently abused
coffee maker: eight AM almost to the tick.  Under his breath, he
muttered a few choice phrases from colony-era Hoffman literature
before standing up, stretching, and walking with great reluctance to
the front door.  Maybe, just maybe, it was something bearable, like an
encyclopedia salesman.
        The door, once opened, revealed two young men wearing white
shirts and black ties with plus-four pants.  Each held a handful of
tracts in his hand, and both had the all-too-toothy smiles and utterly
vacant eyes of the truly dedicated Kalidor missionary.  Moose barely
had time to toy with the fantasy of slamming the door in, and through,
their faces before the taller of the two otherwise identical young men
spoke: "Ah, Mr. MacEchearn, it is so good to see you again!  I hope
you have had the opportunity to read through the tracts we left with
you last Sunday."
        "No," Moose said politely, drawing out the syllable as he
tested his resolve; the punishment he was about to inflict should, he
felt, be outlawed by the Galactica Accords as needlessly cruel.  "I'm
afraid I have discovered a new religion which occupies all my free
time at the moment.  Have you gentlemen considered the Way of G'Quon?"
        The shorter of the two missionaries managed to squeak out a
shocked, "G'QUON??" before his companion stepped heavily on his
instep; as Shorty tried not to hop or scream, Stretch smiled
pleasantly and continued, "Ah, but surely the way of G'Quon does not
supply the peace of mind, the calm reassurance of Kalidor.  After
all - "
        "Quite an intriguing notion, my good man," Moose smiled.
"However, there is one in this household who would be far more capable
of describing G'Quon's teachings.  I have, of course, only begun my
studies.  Allow me to introduce you to him."  With gentle firmness
Moose grasped a hand in each of his own heavy fists and irresistibly
led the two followers of Kalidor to the door of 22S/2.  "Oh, G'Kron,
might I come in?  I would like to introduce you to two prospective
students of G'Quon and the prophets."
        The missionaries weren't teleported through the door, but in
the blur of door opening, Narn pulling them through, and Moose
following after, they couldn't tell the difference.  "Ah, welcome,
WELCOME!  I am more than pleased to educate any willing student on the
teachings of G'Quon!  Ecstatic, even!  Ah, those poor souls who lack
the vision of the prophet, the great and noble hero who lifted the
shadows from our ancient world and ushered in a new dawn of learning
and spirituality!"
        "Actually - " Stretch (the tall missionary) sensed that he had
lost the momentum in this meeting, but his effort to recover was
brushed aside as G'Kron continued, rushing to the desk and pulling out
a leather-bound, much-read copy of a D-shaped book.
        "Here, there's a line for that, pardon me just one moment... "
G'Kron's manic activity and near-constant exclamations, "ah!  Hm!
Ha-ha!" prevented any interruptions before he found his chosen page.
"Ah, here it is!  The very quote!  'There is a greater darkness than
the one we fight.  It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its
way.'"
        "Very insightful, but - "
        "Ah, you would not believe how many souls there are which have
no way, which seek direction, inspiration, dare I say revelation!  And
it lies HERE!  In the life and the teachings of the prophet G'Quon and
his contemporaries!"
        "That's what we - "
        "G'Quon was able to see into the minds of the people," G'Kron
continued, "see within and discover the inner truths which bind all
sentient beings together in symbiosis.  He taught us that the true
fight, the battle for freedom, arises not out of fear but out of hope,
from the belief in a better tomorrow!  G'Quon has inspired generations
of Narns - and other beings," G'Kron added as an afterthought, totally
missing Moose's beatific nod of agreement.  "Inspired generations to
find hope and to persevere, against great burdens and incredible odds,
to battle injustice while retaining peace within and without!  'The
battle to make the world better must begin with this: the resolve not
to make the world any worse.'  This is G'Quon's wisdom!  This is his
calling!"
        "We have someone else who calls - "
        "And history!"  G'Kron spun on his feet, gesturing towards the
missionaries with his copy of the Book of G'Quon.  "Within this volume
can be found the rise of the Narns from their dark age, of their
struggle against mythic foes of incalculable power, and the defeat of
the enemies of envy, hatred and agression by the Prophets!  Such a
metaphor for this age - indeed for any age!"
        "Speaking of - "
        "And even the other prophets of the day honor G'Quon!"
Without setting down the Book, G'Kron drew out a somewhat thinner book
from the desk, gesturing with it.  "G'Quath, the prophet who founded
the modern Narn system of justice, derives virtually every one of his
basic postulates from the teachings of G'Quon!  Between the two of
them, they define a way of life which cannot help but lead to
enlightenment!  It is a long path, and requires much meditation and
study, but the wisdom of G'Quon can, in the end, solve ANY problem!"
        Moose watched with amusement as G'Kron continued, foiling
every effort of the missionaries to break in through sheer zeal and
bluster.  He didn't plan to stick around, however; if and when one of
the missionaries got a word in edgewise, G'Kron would -really- kick
into high gear, and the one thing worse than a ranting Narn is a
proselytizing Narn.
        As he prepared his excuses in his mind, Moose noted Mac
attempting to study by his bed.  To untrained eyes, the attempt was
successful, but the slight hunching of Mac's shoulders, the death-grip
he held on his chemistry book, informed Moose that the young man
wanted to be anywhere but here at the moment.  As he watched, Mac
looked up at Moose and stared for a second with an indecipherable
expression.
        "Say, Moose," Mac said quietly, "don't we have a bass lesson
today?"  The strange expression was gone as soon as Mac's lips began
moving; in its place was a perfect look of innocence, the look of
someone just remembering something important.
        "You know, that's quite right," Moose nodded, "and we'll have
to hurry to get to Alden.  We might get in an hour of practice before
the duel."
        G'Kron paused in his preaching and stared at the two.  "But
I've just begun describing G'Quon's wisdom!" he exclaimed.  "Couldn't
your lesson wait until after finals?"
        "My sincere apologies, G'Kron," Moose sighed, his language
becoming increasingly flowery in response to G'Kron's own, "but the
Art of Noise may have an engagement in the near future which I will
not be able to meet, and my understudy must be adequate to fill in.
And since I will not see Mac between finals and the start of D Term, I
think a double session will be required today.  Rest assured, however,
that I will come to you with any questions I may have about my studies
of the laudable prophet G'Quon.  Mac, shall we go?"
        G'Kron shook his head, the disappointment obvious.  "Ah, well,
at least you two gentlemen will be glad to hear more of G'Quon's
words!"  With barely a pause for breath, he was off again, and even as
Moose and Mac closed the door to 22S/2 his voice could be faintly
heard extolling the virtues of a Narn dead for a millenium.
        As Moose and Mac began the trudge up the hill towards Alden,
Moose muttered, "I was about to bring up the duel, but I'd totally
forgotten that you weren't with us last night.  That story about bass
lessons was inspired."
        "Story, hell," Mac replied.  "After the duel you're going to
help me pick out a practice instrument.  And you're going to teach me.
G'Kron is going to want to know about those lessons, and besides... "
Mac smirked wryly at Moose as he added, "You owe me for bringing those
two into my room and setting G'Kron off."
        "Well, I'm sorry," said Moose.  He shrugged (a motion which
resembled nothing so much as continental drift) and went on, "But it
had to be done."
        "Understood," Mac nodded, "but I just wish it didn't have to
be done in my room."
        After a few moments of silence, Moose added, "Can you -play-
the bass guitar?"
        "Don't know," Mac replied, "never tried."
        "Ah," Moose grunted, and said no more.

        The honor of crab rangoons' crust was upheld that morning at
Alden Hall, prompting a rueful Saionji to remark that his technique
must -really- have slipped if he could lose his rose to -Kaoru-, of
all people.  "Tenjou, understandably," he remarked with a dry smile.
"She is clearly my superior in every measurable way.  But -you-?"  He
shook his head sadly.
        "Utena isn't your superior in -every- way," Miki replied
mildly.
        "Hey!" Utena protested with mock indignation.
        "You'll never be taller than he is," Miki pointed out, and
both Utena and Saionji had to admit he had a point.

        Kaitlyn managed to track down Edward around mid-morning; the
hacker was very distracted and starting to look a bit worn down, but
insisted that "the Durandal project" was going very well and that she
and Ein were holding up nicely thank you for asking.  She further
agreed cheerfully to the loan of her simsense deck, since she wouldn't
be needing it - she preferred to use more conventional systems for the
important stuff, and she was much too busy with Durandal to go playing
around with simsense interface this month anyway.
        So Kate set the deck up on her desk, patched it into her
dataterminal's network feed, seated herself comfortably in her chair,
and affixed the adhesive electrodes to her head and hands.
        "This w-w-would be easier if I h-had a n-n-neurop-processor,"
Kate explained to Utena, "and s-someday I'll h-have to g-g-get one,
b-but this w-will d-do for n-now."
        Utena nodded, suppressing a bit of a shiver.  Out of all the
strange things she'd had to get used to about this world, the notion
that people went around routinely having computer equipment IMPLANTED
IN THEIR BODIES still just plain gave her the creeps.  Amanda Dessler
had one; it was part of the control system of her space fighter,
absolutely essential for the career path she was on in the Gamilon
Navy.  Kate's father had one too, or so she'd heard - why he seemed to
wear a vambrace computer all the time, if he had a neuroprocessor,
Utena wasn't sure, but she didn't really want to think about it too
much.  MegaZone was reputed to be a veritable hardware store, more
machine than man, but she wasn't sure she believed that.
        "Th-this'll p-probably take a h-half-hour or s-so," Kate went
on, fitting the padded blindfold across her eyes.  "T-try not to
b-b-bump my ch-chair," she added with a grin.
        "Good luck!" said Utena, the sentiment echoed by Corwin and
Nall.  Kate thanked them, took a slightly-deeper-than-normal breath,
and then pressed the 'GO' key.  It blinked three times, then glowed
steady green, and Kate relaxed a little in the chair, her
partly-obscured face going blank.
        "... That is -so- weird," Utena murmured.
        "Mm," Corwin agreed.  "It has its uses, though."
        Utena crossed the room and sat down in Kate's usual armchair,
since Corwin was in hers.  "I keep expecting to see her acting out
what she's 'doing'," she said after a few minutes.
        "The early systems, people did; that was before they figured
out motor interdict and just -read- the signals instead of
intercepting them."
        "So... she's helpless right now?"
        "Pretty much.  You could walk up and do damn near anything,
and she wouldn't notice.  About the only thing that can break the
connection from outside, except for unplugging or shutting off the
deck, is bright light - the optic nerve is a powerful thing.  That's
why the blindfold.  She can't hear us, though, wouldn't feel it if we
touched her."
        "Brr.  I could never do that to myself - make myself so, so
-defenseless-... not unless there was someone I -really- trusted
watching my back."
        "Neither could Kate," Nall pointed out.
        "... Mm," Utena mused.
        Tiny Robo and Lesser Mazinger stood on Kate's desk, watching
her.  Utena was suddenly startled, then amused, to see that Lesser
Mazinger had one of his swords out, and was holding it at the ready,
looking rather comically like a tiny executioner.  At the slightest
sign of discomfort from his mistress, the robot was prepared to sever
the cable leading to the electrodes that held her mind in thrall to
the illusory reality of the Avalon County Department of Motor
Vehicles.  She caught Corwin's eye and directed his attention thither;
he noted it, cocked an eyebrow, and grinned.
        "His protect routine's stronger than I expected," he said.
"That's a pretty sophisticated piece of logic for an AI his size,
figuring out that cutting that wire would help her if she ran into
trouble.  Not that there's any chance she will - it's an authorized
program from the DMV, not a raid on the Aztechnology payroll database.
Still, it's nice to see he's tending to business."
        Utena smiled.  "They're both like that.  Tiny Robo followed me
halfway across town last weekend in a snowstorm to make sure I was
OK.  Which reminds me," she said, partly because it did and partly to
change the subject before he asked for an explanation of what had gone
wrong that weekend, "I haven't thanked you lately for him, or my
sword.  They've both served me very well."
        Corwin grinned again, slightly abashed.  "I'm glad they're
working out for you," he said.  "And I'm sorry I missed your duel with
Liza Broadbitch!  -Damn-, I'm sorry I missed that."
        "Me too," said Nall.  "After the hurting you laid on Dad, I
was hoping Liza'd lose an arm."
        Utena chuckled.  "'Dad'?"
        "Well, yeah.  Me and Corwin, we're like brothers, y'know,"
said the dragon importantly, drawing himself up.
        Utena supposed he had a point.
        A little while later, Kate stiffened a little, almost making
Lesser Mazinger cut the wire, before she shook herself, reached out,
and flicked the the STOP switch.  Then she flipped up the blindfold,
peeled off the 'trodes, and turned to her roommate and the others,
grinning broadly.
        "I p-p-passed!  I g-got my l-license!"
        "All RIGHT!" Corwin declared, jumping up and grabbing her up
in a hug.  "Way to go, Kate!"
        Utena joined in, seizing both siblings at once.  The printer
next to Kate's terminal beeped, chuntered, beeped again, and then spat
out a freshly minted, holographically sealed, micro-encoded Avalon
County driver's license, complete with an honest-to-God -decent-
little holo of her smiling, spectacled face.  Utena grabbed it out of
the slot, admired it, then passed it to Corwin so that he could do the
same before bestowing it with a flourish on its owner.
        "So when are you taking your master's cert exam?" Corwin asked
with a grin.  Kate rolled her eyes and whacked him on the shoulder.
        "G-get r-real.  After h-high sch-school, I'm s-sure.
P-probably after c-c-college."
        They spent the next hour rounding up whoever they could find
for a mass exodus down the hill, where they took over nearly the
entirety of Boomers Pizza to enjoy the somewhat surly service and the
unusually-thick-for-Worcester pizza.  As such critical masses often
do, this group broke up again on the way up the hill, leaving the same
foursome wondering what to do with themselves as they climbed the hill
again.
        "Let's g-go b-b-bowling," Kate suggested as they reached West
Street and entered the campus proper.
        "That sounds like fun," Corwin said.
        "I don't think I've ever been bowling," Utena noted.
        "Me neither," Nall said.  "I've tried, but they never have
shoes in my size."
        "Hey, th-there's J-Juri," Kate observed, seeing the tall
redhead emerging from the Wedge as they approached Corwin's car,
parked in its usual spot by the Quad.  Utena duly hailed her.  Juri
looked up at the sound of her name, then crossed to them, her face
questioning.
        "Kate got her driver's license," said Utena, her arm around
her roommate's shoulders, "and now she wants to go bowling.  You wanna
come with?"
        Juri smiled, a little slyly, though no one with her could
quite fathom why she should have a sly smile about -bowling-, of all
things.
        "That sounds like it could be fun," she said.
        "I g-guess we're off to Sh-Shrewsb-bury Lanes," Kate said to
Corwin.
        "The Institute Handbook mentions a bowling alley on campus,"
Juri noted.
        "I've heard this rant," said Utena pre-emptively.  "The campus
lanes aren't the right width, or length, or something."
        "L-l-length," Kate confirmed.  "T-t-t-too sh-short."
        Juri frowned.  "Well, that will never do," she agreed.  "Let's
go."
        They piled into Corwin's car; with a smile and a flourish, he
handed over the keys to his newly-licensed sister, and she showed her
prowess in getting the long, powerful beast down Route 9 without a
hitch.
        "Hey, Corwin," Utena said over her shoulder.
        "Yeah?" Corwin replied, leaning forward a bit in the back
seat.
        "I've only ever driven automatics," she said, pointing to the
gearshift lever Kate was currently shifting into third.  "Can you
teach me how to drive one of these?"
        "No trouble at all," Corwin replied without hesitation.  "Love
to.  Maybe over break?  The first week I've still got classes, but the
second week, Crescent Heights is off too."
        "Sounds good to me.  What do you say, Kate?  Toronto the first
week, then back here the second?"
        Kate nodded.  "W-works for m-m-me."
        As he sat back, almost glowing with anticipation, Corwin
wondered why the hell the redhead was giving him such a sour look.

        Six games later, Kaitlyn admitted that Juri's kung fu was
best, then bought her a milkshake.
        "Y-y-y-you're a r-r-ringer," she accused the redhead jokingly
as she returned from the Shrewsbury Lanes soda counter and distributed
the beverages.  "T-two p-p-perf-f-fect g-g-games out of s-s-six?
L-l-lowest ss-sc-score t-t-two h-h-hund-d-dred a-and... "  She shook
her head.  "R-r-r-ring-n-nger."
        Juri nodded modestly.  "I've been bowling since I was seven.
I guess I have a natural aptitude for it."  She gave her shoes a
distasteful look and added, "Even in rented shoes."
        "So buy good ones," said Utena, grinning.  "You're rich."
        Juri gave her an odd look, then laughed.  "I suppose I am,"
she replied.  "Your friend is a strange one, Tenjou."
        "N-next t-t-time," Kate insisted, "v-v-video g-g-games
ag-gain.  I o-o-0wnz3d y-y-you at 'St-Street F-F-F-Fighter'."
        "Once I hit my stride on this world's games," Juri replied
with cool, half-serious detachment, "you won't be able to beat me
there either."
        "W-w-w-we'll d-d-damn w-well s-s-s-see ab-b-bout th-that!"
Kate replied, but she was smiling.
        "I hope so," Nall remarked, yawning.  "Video games are
exciting.  There's nothing as boring to watch as a good bowler."
        "Kate makes up for that," said Corwin, earning a punch in the
arm.  It was true; Kate was an enthusiastic but mediocre bowler,
without much in the way of consistency.  She certainly enjoyed the
game, though, even if she wasn't very good at it - enough that, now
that she knew she'd found willing opponents in Juri and Utena, and
Corwin when he was around, she encouraged Utena's half-joking
suggestion of a visit to the lanes' pro shop.  By the time they left,
each of the four humans had a pair of shoes and a bowling ball, and
had put two games on each.
        "Dad's gonna be confused as hell," Corwin mused as he put his
newly-acquired bowling bag in the trunk of his car.  "He'll probably
think it's a bomb or something.  Anything but what it looks like."
        Kate laughed and slid back behind the wheel.  "T-tell him it's
m-m-my f-fault," she said.

        Corwin actually seemed to remember his ostensible mission for
his frequent trips to Worcester that evening; when they returned to
campus from their bowling expedition, he took Dorothy for a starlit
walk around the school and its environs, anxious to hear how she was
faring with the school experience, especially the unexpected twist of
having a roommate.  She didn't seem all that different at first
glance, but inside she was changing, and Corwin rejoiced to discover
the differences as she spoke to him.  They went up to Bancroft Tower
and sat in one of the mini-turrets flanking the walkway, discussing
her impressions of the school, her new friends, the good and bad
times.
        As sometimes happened when she spoke to him, Dorothy put aside
her robotic reserve and warmed to the topic.
        "Juri would like you to teach me to sleep," Dorothy observed
during the part of the talk that focused on her new rooming situation.
        "Sleep?" Corwin inquired, blinking.
        "Yes.  I don't, of course, and she says it's distracting to
know that I'm hovering around awake all the time, even though I don't
make noise.  She says if I'm human enough to forget class assignments,
I should be human enough to sleep.  Do you think she's right?"
        Corwin was gazing at her with a look that said, "I'm an
idiot."
        "You don't sleep?" he said.
        "No.  Didn't you know that?"
        "No!" Corwin replied, slapping his forehead.  "I just assumed
you weren't sleeping when I crashed in your room because you made me
take the bed and didn't want to sleep on the floor.  That's why I
tried to talk you out of it the first time."
        "I couldn't let you sleep on the floor," Dorothy remonstrated
with gentle irony.  "The First Law - "
        "Oh, slag the First Law," Corwin grumbled, and wondered why
that brought a tiny smile to her lips.  "You really don't sleep, and I
-never noticed-.  What an idiot I am.  Well, I think Juri's right -
your positronic matrix is sophisticated enough that if you compose
yourself properly, you ought to enter a relaxed-consciousness trance
that's -like- sleep, anyway.  I mean, scientists don't really know what
sleep -is-, even today."
        She nodded.  "Interesting.  I'll try it tonight."
        "Let me know how it comes out," he said, and she nodded
again.
        "Do you think I will dream?" she asked.
        Corwin cocked his head, fought down the obvious joke, and
said honestly, "I dunno.  But when you find out, I'd love to know."
        "All right," said Dorothy.
        "Listen - do you have any idea why Juri would be mad at me?"
        "Mad?  As in angry with you?"  He nodded.  "No," Dorothy said
after a moment's thought.  "If she were displeased with me as her
roommate, she might take it out on you as my owner, but she gives no
indication, other than being annoyed by my lack of sleeping habits,
that she's dissatisfied in any way.  It's hard to tell with Juri," she
went on, unconscious of the irony, "but I think she might even like
me."
        Corwin thought that over.  "Hmm... I wonder what's the matter,
then?  'Cause she sure gives me the impression that she doesn't like
-me-.  She tries to hide it, I think, but sometimes I catch her giving
me these... these -looks-."
        "That may simply be Juri being Juri," Dorothy told him.  "Her
neutral expression is one that humans often mistake for a sign of
personal displeasure."
        "You mean she scowls like that all the time."
        "That's what I said."
        "Huh.  Well, I wonder, all the same.  It feels like there's
something personal in it, and I'm damned if I know what... "
        Their conversation diverged from there, and when they returned
to the school an hour or so later, she had an air of satisfaction, he
a glow like a parent's pride.  At her door (still not repaired), he
gave her a hug, entirely unconcerned while she returned it that she
could crush a concrete block in her arms if she cared to; Dorothy's
embraces, like every other personal contact she made, were measured
and precise, satisfyingly firm without the slightest hint of danger or
discomfort.  Then he kissed her on the forehead, raising that little
blush in her cheeks again, and told her to have a good night and sleep
well.
        He turned from her door to see Janice, the Resident Advisor
from 411 - why could he never remember her last name? - regarding him
with a speculative look.
        "What?" he inquired.  "Curfew violation?"
        "Nah," Janice replied.  "I just never saw anybody treat a
robot like that before.  It's cute.  You going to sponsor her for
Turing?"
        "I've done it every year for the past three," Corwin replied.
"She keeps not going."
        "Huh.  Weird.  Well, who can figure, right?  Listen, you're
not going to crash with your sister, are you?  I don't care,
particularly, but Res Services could raise all hell if they found out,
and I think at least one of Liza B's snitches lives on this floor."
        "Nah, I'm going down to Institute."
        "Ah.  Bunking with Bishonen Boy, huh?"
        Corwin suppressed a snicker and wondered, not for the first
time, about the etymology of that word.
        "It was either that or Lunch Counter Lad," Janice explained
with a shrug.  "Well, g'night."
        "Night," said Corwin, and the RA went back into her room.
Corwin shook his head, smiling to himself, and knocked on the door of
412.  Its denizens were already in their pajamas, ready for an early
night before they tackled the first of their finals in the morning.
        "God, Kate, those pajamas," said Corwin with an indulgent
chuckle, pretending to shield his eyes from their tiger-striped glory.
        "I c-c-could be w-wearing the set Aunt B-Bell made," Kate
pointed out.
        "With the feet and the head?" Corwin asked; she nodded, and he
laughed.  "Oh, wow!  I'd forgotten about those.  I should get her to
make you a new set.  You'd be -so- cute."
        Utena looked puzzled.  Kate explained, "W-when I was t-ten,
Aunt B-Bell m-made me a s-set of p-pajamas that L-LOOKED like a
t-t-tiger.  It h-had p-paws and a t-t-tail."
        "And a hood with a snout, eyes, and ears," Corwin reminded
her.  "Can't forget that."
        "N-no," Kate replied with a sigh, "n-no one ever c-c-can."
        Utena had to sit down on her bed, she was so tickled by the
mental image.  "Oh, wow, Kate," she said when she got her breath
back.  "Corwin, you have -got- to get your aunt to make another one of
those.  I just -have- to see it."
        "I'll see what I can do," Corwin promised.  Kate folded her
arms and pretended to scowl, but it was obvious her heart wasn't in
it.
        "Anyway, I gotta run," said Corwin.  "Saionji's got finals
too, and I promised I'd get down to Institute before he goes to bed,
so he can get a solid night's sleep."
        "D-do that," Kate agreed.  "F-f-first finals at the
Instit-t-tute are imp-portant, esp-specially if you t-tested in.  He
n-needs to d-do as w-well as he c-can."
        Corwin had the door open to go, but neither girl would let him
leave without a hug.  Nall took the opportunity to jump ship again,
giving Corwin a big cheese-eating grin, but Corwin only brushed it off
with an air of resignation.
        "Fine, see you in the morning, Oathbreaker," he said.  Nall
just stuck out his little red tongue.
        "We're eggbonded, pink boy, not married," he said.
        "Rules lawyer," said Corwin with a smile.  "G'night, you
guys.  I'll see you at breakfast, and then the furball and I are out
of here to let you face your finals."
        He went off down the hall, whistling a little tune.  Behind
him, Juri Arisugawa crossed the hallway and put her head into 412
before Kate could close the door.
        "I want a word with you, Tenjou," she said.  "In private.
Now."
        Utena, puzzled, put Nall on Kate's bed and followed Juri over
to 413.  What was eating -her-?  She hadn't been that peremptory since
back in the Bad Old Days.  "Take off this ring and leave this
Academy!"  Yes, ma'am, how fast would you like that?  Sheesh.  Utena
had been hoping maybe the redhead had mellowed at least a -little-.
        She passed Dorothy in the doorway of room 413; the robot gave
her a slightly puzzled look and an infinitesimal shrug in response to
her own querying expression, then went to wait in the hall.
        "OK," said Utena, closing the door (as best as it would close)
behind her.  "What?"
        "Have you forgotten the cause that brought us all together, in
your pursuit of the Ravenhair boy?" Juri asked her.
        Utena blinked.
        "... -What-?" she managed to ask after a few moments.
        "Don't play dumb with me - I've seen the looks the two of you
give each other.  I know the signs.  Have you already forgotten the
Rose Bride?"
        Utena flushed.  "That's going too far, Juri," she snapped.
"What are you insinuating?  That I'm screwing around with Kate's
brother?  Ah, to hell with Himemiya, she's not here anyway - might as
well have some fun?"
        "Something like that," Juri replied dryly.
        "Well, for your information, Miss Judgmental, I'm not!  Corwin
is my friend, OK, my very -good- friend.  He's a good kid, he's fun to
be around, and we have a lot of common interests."
        "Including," Juri put in, "each other."
        "Will you -stop- that!  What the hell is your problem?"
        "My problem is being brought here," Juri replied, "to see you
apparently forgetting everything you fought the Tournament for."
        Utena adopted an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression.
"Hmm... y'know, Juri, I've been having some trouble with my short-term
memory lately.  Could you be a pal and maybe remind me exactly WHEN
THE HELL I ASKED FOR YOUR OPINION?  Anyway, where do you get off
assuming you even KNOW what I fought for?  Himemiya and I never
figured out if we WERE - 'cause I'm not usually - and there wasn't
time to - "  Utena stopped, realizing she was never going to get all
-that- articulated in anything like a timely manner, regrouped,
thought of a -different- facet of Juri's assumptions that annoyed her,
and launched herself after that one instead:
        "Besides, dammit, Corwin happens to be -thirteen-, OK?  He's
the same age as Miki.  So not only do you think I'm a promise-breaker
and a betrayer, but a cradle robber too?  Go to hell!  You know why I
won the Tournament?  Because I'M - NOT - THAT - FUCKED - UP!"
        Then she spun on her heel, stormed out of the room, and
slammed the broken door behind her.
        A few moments later, Janice-the-RA put her head around the
edge of the door, which, not being lockable, had sprung back open from
the force of the slam.
        "Sounds like that could've gone better," she observed dryly.
"You want to pick your next fight someplace else, please?  We've got
people trying to study for finals around here.  Like, oh, say, ME."
She gave Juri a thoughtful look.  "Y'know, I don't remember seeing you
around before that morning a couple weeks ago.  Are you even a
student?"
        "No," Juri replied flatly, not in any mood to quibble.
        Janice took that in, then shrugged.  "Whatever.  Not my job to
chase out squatters.  Just don't break anything and keep the noise
down, huh?"
        "I'll try," said Juri shortly.
        "Good, good," said Janice.  Noticing the broken lock on the
door, she inquired, "Um, do you guys want me to file a maintenance
request for this, or... "  At the scowl Juri leveled at her, she
sighed.  "OK, forget it," she said, and went back to her own room,
shaking her head with resignation at the perversity of the world.  Why
are the hot ones always so damn bitchy?
        Dorothy waited for her to go, then re-entered Room 413.
        "Don't say anything," said Juri.
        Dorothy looked curiously at her for a moment, then went and
got into bed.
        "I'm going to try to sleep," she reported.  "Good night."
        "Good night," Juri told her.  "I'm going out for a while."
She pulled on her coat and boots and strode off down the hall.
        Juri got as far as the hallway leading from the Wedge to
Institute Road past the commuting student lockers, then found her path
blocked by a small form with arms folded.
        "You're not going to go bother Corwin, too," Azalynn told her
flatly.
        Juri pulled up short, startled and a bit impressed by the
Dantrovian's air of bald challenge.
        "Get out of my way," she said.
        "No," Azalynn replied.  "I said you're not bothering Corwin
and I meant it.  Stay away from him if you can't mind your own
business."
        "Which of us is the pot and which the kettle?" Juri inquired
caustically, hands on hips.
        "Don't be cute," Azalynn replied, "it doesn't suit you.  This
-is- my business.  My friends' happiness is my business, and you're
screwing around with it."  The Dantrovian's golden eyes narrowed.  "I
don't like that."
        "You don't understand the situation," Juri said.
        "Sure I do," Azalynn replied.  "You think because Utena likes
Corwin, that means she's abandoning Anthy."
        Juri blinked.  "How did - she hasn't - "
        "No, she hasn't.  She doesn't even know I know.  I heard it
from Saionji, while I was putting his -mind- back together after your
pal the Deputy Chairman got done with it.  Don't you people ever talk
to each other?  He and I and Miki sorted all of this out before you
got here, and neither one of them brought you up to date?  I swear, I
have to do -everything- around here.  But that's all beside the
point.  You think what I said, right?"
        "Isn't it obvious?"
        Azalynn shook her head.  "Only to someone as limited as you
apparently are," she replied.  "You call her your friend and berate
her for feeling the warmth of another's presence in her heart?  What
kind of hypocrite are you?  And what were you planning to do next?  Go
wake up Corwin and Saionji, throw Saionji out of his own room into the
hall on the night before finals, and then tell Corwin to stay away
from Utena?"
        "... Something like that," Juri admitted.
        "Don't be an -idiot-," Azalynn said, disgusted.  "Has it even
occurred to you that there's more than one kind of love?"
        "I know that," Juri replied, feeling her cheeks grow hot.
"But this is - "
        "None of your business!" Azalynn insisted.  "Look, I know you
mean well, but if you try to 'help' you'll only screw things up.  Stay
-out- of this.  Let the two of them work out for -themselves- what
they are and aren't to each other.  These things are delicate, but
long-lived.  It could take -years- to fully form, but it has to be
allowed to form ITSELF.  You can't shape it into what you think it
should be, and neither can I.  It's not our place to do that.  It's
theirs and theirs alone."
        "And what of the one who's forgotten?" Juri inquired bitterly.
        "What makes you so sure she will be?" Azalynn asked.  "Someday
the three of them will all be together, face to face to face.  Who can
even -guess- what may happen then?"
        Juri snorted.  "Utopianist nonsense.  Things like that don't
happen."
        "Don't they?  There are whole species who think it's the only
way to tango," said Azalynn with a wicked grin.  "You told Liza
Broadbank you were still deliberating on miracles," she went on, more
serious.  "How can you decide if you go around deliberately stepping
on them?  'Well, I've destroyed this.  That must mean it could never
have been; therefore there are no miracles.'  That's typical bullshit
human logic.  You Cephireans have shown so much promise... I'd hoped
none of you would fall into a mental trap like that."
        Juri shook her head.  "It's not that I don't -want- to
believe," she said.  "I've... why am I explaining myself to you?"
        "People do that," Azalynn replied.  "C'mon, let's go for a
walk.  Down to Tortilla Sam's for fajitas.  I've got all kinds of
insights to share," she added wryly.
        "Don't you have finals tomorrow too?"
        "Yeah, but I don't need much sleep."

        Utena returned to her room, managing not to slam its door as
she had 413's only through a supreme effort of will.  Kate and Nall
both watched quizzically as she entered, still snarling.
        "What was -that- all about?" Nall wondered.
        "Juri's up on her high horse," Utena replied, throwing herself
into her armchair.  "I guess she thinks I'm being too friendly to
Corwin."
        Nall crossed the room from Kate's bed in a single wingbeat,
then settled in Utena's lap, looking puzzled.  "That doesn't make much
sense," he said.
        "I know it doesn't," Utena snapped.  "It's just Juri being a
pain in the ass.  She's got this idea that Himemiya - oh, skip it,"
she went on, making an aggravated gesture.  "Juri's misreading the
whole situation anyway."
        "Sh-she's p-probably just d-disorient-ted," said Kate.  "I
m-mean, c-consider: she's b-been yanked into an a-alien w-w-world,
w-with no w-warning... th-that'll make anyb-body irr-irritable."  She
chuckled.  "L-look at S-Saionji."
        Utena took a deep breath and sighed.  "Yeah... I suppose.  And
it's my fault she's here, too.  She's probably just blowing off
steam."  She shook her head.  "Juri's got a real problem expressing
herself.  She never says what she's really feeling.  I wish she'd just
blame me for messing up her life instead of going off on these damn
-tangents-."
        "I d-don't think she w-wants to b-blame you," said Kate.  "She
j-just needs some t-time to adj-just."  She paused, thoughtful, as if
considering whether her next thought might be treading too far on
unfamiliar ground, then went on, "Someh-how, I g-get the f-f-feeling
th-this isn't ab-bout you and C-Corwin at all."
        "Well, I should -hope- not," grumbled Utena.  "I mean, not
only isn't it any of her business, but I'm not even... "  She gave
that same open-handed gesture again.  "Forget it.  You're right.
She's still shaky from the transition, and I'm just tired.  I'll
apologize in the morning for snapping at her."
        "G-good idea," said Kate, nodding.  She put her book away, and
girls and dragon shut off the lights and went to bed.

        Tortilla Sam's was, as the name suggested, a Mexican
restaurant, down on Highland Street.  Though Juri didn't know it, this
was actually Highland Street's second restaurant to go by the name
"Tortilla Sam's"; the original had been in an older building next door
to the current location.  That building had been converted back into a
townhouse, and the restaurant had moved into a new building next door.
Habitues of the place commonly agreed that the new site lacked
character, but was more comfortable.
        Being so close to campus, Sam's was a common haunt for WPI
students.  If the staff found it a little odd to find such a student
wandering into the place at nine at night, and on the evening before
finals at that, they didn't say; after all, some students had odd
study habits, and as long as they were back in the dorms by curfew,
there was no need to raise a fuss.
        Besides, only one of the two new customers was a student of
the Institute.  Her companion, a tall, green-eyed redhead, looked
around the restaurant with cool disinterest while the Dantrovian
chatted with one of the waiters and made arrangements for a table for
two, nonsmoking.  The restaurant itself was rather open in design; a
large seating area with movable plastic-covered tables, concrete
floors for ease of cleaning, and high ceilings with exposed rafters.
Traditional music from the Republic of Texas played over the speakers,
and various 'rustic and colorful' artifacts of late twentieth-century
Mexico decorated the walls.
        Azalynn smiled as she and Juri were led to their table,
looking up at the wooden beams that supported the restaurant's roof.
        "I always like coming to this place," the short, silver-haired
girl commented as she removed her coat, slinging it over the back of
her chair before sitting down in it.
        "Oh, why is that?" Juri asked as she removed her own coat and
sat down opposite Azalynn.
        "It's part of the same reason I'm rooming in Riley," the 
Dantrovian replied, already looking at the plastic-covered menus that
had been provided.  "The high ceilings, the slight darkening up in
the rafters, the spreading timbers; it reminds me of home."
        "Your home had a lot of cathedral ceilings?" Juri asked, while
glancing over the menu as well.  The meal items were unfamilar to her,
however, so she set the menu aside to study the younger girl.
        Azalynn laughed.  "That's one way of putting it...  though
Dantrov's got pretty high 'ceilings'.  Hmm.  All-you-can-eat steak
fajita platter, or the chicken?" she mused, tapping one foreclaw
against the plastic listing.  "What do you think, Juri?"
        "I really don't have a preference, Azalynn," the redhead
replied, distracted, regarding the Dantrovian with her silvery-gray
hair and golden eyes.  Her gaze drifted down Azalynn's arm to study
her three-fingered hand, and for the first time Juri noticed the
gleaming black claw sticking out from under what had to be her right
index fingernail.
        There was a moment's pause, and then Juri finally spoke again.
"I wasn't aware that you had claws, Azalynn.  Are they functional?" 
she asked, her tone more curious than challenging.
        "Oh, didn't anybody tell you?" Azalynn said with a grin.  She
backed up out of her chair, kicked off her shoes, and rapidly climbed
up into the rafters via a support post, gripping the wood with her 
unsheathed toe and finger claws.  "Dantrovians are an arboreal 
species."
        Juri arched one slim tangerine eyebrow as she looked up at the
Dantrovian in her new perch.  "No, they somehow neglected to inform 
me of that," she replied, a slight bemused smile on her lips.  "Not 
that it matters, I suppose..."
        Azalynn laughed, curled up in the rafters like a self-satisfied
cat, her golden eyes glinting in the dim light.  Juri, looking up at
her shadowed smile, entertained a brief fantasy of the rest of the
Dantrovian fading away, leaving nothing but that disembodied grin
glinting down from the rafters.
        "I -knew- there was a reason I liked you," Azalynn went on, her
tail flicking back and forth.
        "Well, I'm glad that I've met with some approval, then," Juri
replied, though her tone of voice was slightly sardonic.  Azalynn
looked like she was about to respond, but by then the waiter returned
with their chips and salsa and politely asked the copper-skinned girl
to get down out of the rafters before she got hurt.  Azalynn mock-
scowled at the waiter but relented, effortlessly dropping back into
her chair without disturbing the table's place settings.  Juri tried
to hide a bemused look and failed; Azalynn winked back at her.  She
placed their meal and drink orders, and the waiter departed, leaving
the two girls alone with the appetizers.
        "So," said Azalynn, using a tortilla chip to scoop some salsa,
"how'd -you- get involved in all this?"
        "Hm?" replied Juri, after she had taken a bite of a chip that
was similarly prepared.  "I would think it'd be obvious.  Tenjou 
yanked me from my rooms at the Academy.   While it was for a good 
cause, as that Broadbank woman certainly needed to be taught a lesson,
it's left me somewhat at loose ends."
        Azalynn shook her head.  "No, that's not what I meant.  I mean
Ohtori Academy, that sham of a Tournament, and all that stuff."
        A shadow passed across Juri's face.  "Oh."  She pursed her
lips, and considered the next chip she'd picked up.  "There's not much
to tell, really.  My parents sent me to the Academy for junior high
school, as it was one of the best schools in Cephiro.  A... friend of
mine was also attending there.  I placed well in all the classes,
joined the fencing team before High School started, joined the Student
Council afterwards.  I'm sure Saionji or Miki could tell you the rest
of the story."  She then bit down on her chip with salsa, looking back
at the shorter girl, her green eyes daring Azalynn to ask further
questions.
        "Yes, they could," Azalynn acknowledged, matching Juri's gaze.
"And they have.  But that's -their- side of the story, not yours."
        "I really don't see how that is any of your business, Azalynn.
If they choose to tell you what they went through, that's their 
prerogative, and I will abide by it.  But they do not necessarily speak
for me."  Juri shook her head, and let out an exasperated snort.  "You
remind me so much of Tenjou... "
        "Oh?" Azalynn arched one silvery eyebrow, in an unconscious
mirroring of Juri's usual gesture.  "That's quite a compliment."  She
smiled, and ate another chip.
        Juri blinked at Azalynn, and then let out a bitter laugh.
"You -would- think that, wouldn't you."
        "Yes, I would," Azalynn replied stoutly.  "She's a great
person, fun to be around, stands up for her friends, doesn't take guff
from anyone - and ANYBODY who can whip the butt of Liza Broadbitch
gets a gold star in my book."
        "Yes... she is all that," Juri admitted quietly, directing her
gaze at the half-empty salsa bowl.  She then arched an eyebrow at the
Dantrovian.  "Does this mean I get a gold star, too?"
        "Silver star," Azalynn quipped back.  "You're new here."  She
tilted her head, curiously, as a thought occured to her.  "While we're
on the subject, though..."
        "Hm?"
        "How come -you- remembered Utena, while everybody else, even
Miki and Kyouichi, had forgotten her?  To hear them tell it, it looks
like your pal the Deputy Chairman did the big brainwipe over the
school after she dropped out after the last big duel, and when he gave
you that dinner, fed you some bullshit story about the arena doing it
instead."
        Juri blinked, and considered Azalynn's question.  "I'm not
quite sure, exactly.  I remember that the other members of the Council
and the students in general tended to tune Tenjou out, as if she was a
fuzzy blank spot in their memories.  I remembered, but after a while I
decided it was better not to press, as the teachers would get
indignant that I'd suggest such a student had ever existed at the
Academy."  She allowed herself an indulgent chuckle.  "Not that I ever
had a problem with them."  She tapped her fingers against her chin,
thoughtfully.  "I don't suppose..." She shook her head.  "No, it
couldn't be something as simple as -that-... "  Juri's voice trailed
off, as she looked off into the middle distance of the restaurant,
over the Dantrovian's shoulder.
        "Couldn't be what?"  Azalynn asked, her curiosity piqued.
        "Well... I still have a picture of her," Juri replied, her 
right hand briefly drifting up to a point below her collarbone.  Quite
possibly she didn't even realize she was doing it.  "I asked Tenjou for
it before the final duel."
        "So, you do care about her."
        Juri's mouth opened, and then shut again.  She directed an
accusatory glare at Azalynn, who looked smugly back at her.
        "I really don't think it's - "
        "' - any of your business', yes, yes, I know, we've done this
dance before."  The Dantrovian grinned, and used her tail to flick an
unadorned tortilla chip into the air toward Juri.  "But like I said,
my friends' happiness is my business, therefore by extension -your-
happiness is my business.  QED."
        Juri blinked with surprise, taken so off guard that she
totally missed the opportunty to try and block the tossed chip.  It
rebounded off her jacket and landed on the floor, ignored.
        "Are you saying... you -want- to be my friend?  Then why... "
She gestured off in a direction that she hoped led back towards the
Institute, and by implication their prior altercation in the Wedge.
        Azalynn munched one of the remaining chips in the basket,
unconcerned.  "Why?  Take your pick.  Because even in a new world,
you're not freaked out by me or Sky.  Because not only are you rooming
with Dorothy, you're getting her to open up.  Because the first day
you got here you slapped Broadbitch like she deserved and that night
you spanked her ass so hard that she ran with her tail between her
legs.  Because you have beautiful green eyes, and dvhil, that -hair-!
I wish I could get my hair to be like that."  She grinned and ran her
right hand through her stiff, spiky gray hair.  "Why shouldn't we be
friends?"
        Juri's face clouded over again, and she looked into the
depths of the flame of the votive candle which sat in the middle of
the table.  "It isn't worth it, Azalynn."
        "Yes, it is," she replied.  "Miki certainly thinks so."
        Juri's head snapped upwards, and she directed a narrowed gaze
at the Dantrovian.  She looked about ready to respond with some acid
diatribe, and then slumped in her chair, looking off to the side.
        Azalynn blinked, and wondered for the first time if she'd 
pushed too far.  She pursed her lips (again, in unconscious imitation
of one of Juri's usual gestures), scooped up the remaining salsa onto
one of the few surviving chips, and ate it as she considered another
tack.
        "Speaking of whom... "
        "Mm?"  Juri looked back at Azalynn, her expression still
muted, her green eyes slightly dull, even with the candlelight between
them.
        "How'd the two of you end up in the fencing team back in
Ohtori, anyway?"
        Juri blinked again, and some light returned to her eyes as she
considered Azalynn's question.  "I became interested in the sport as a
child.  At the Academy, I was a member of the fencing team and trained
under the former captain... by the time Miki joined, I had taken his
place and was leading the club full-time."
        "Oh?  What happened to the former captain?  Graduated?"
        "No, he was a year ahead of me, not two... " Juri's voice 
trailed off, and she laced her hands in front of her chin.  "... he 
grew ill, but came back briefly during the Tournament.  He was a 
Duelist as well... not long before the end."
        "Oh," Azalynn replied in a soft voice.  "I'm sorry."
        Juri didn't know what to say to that.  Fortunately for her,
she didn't have to reply, for by that time the waiter arrived, bearing
drink refills and their two steak fajita platters with associated 
side dishes and soft warm tortillas.  The steak slices sizzled on their
iron platters, filling the air between the Duelist and the Dantrovian 
with the scent of freshly cooked marinated beef.
        Azalynn looked at Juri across the table as their meals were
served, and made a little 'hrm' noise in the back of her throat.  She
had learned a lot about the taller redhead during the eating of the
chips and salsa (she suppressed a mental urge to capitalize the
sentence and turn it into the name of a holiday), perhaps even more
than Juri realized she had revealed.  But if her measure of the
situation was correct, Juri Arisugawa had been hurt, very badly, in
the not-very-distant past... and there were some things even she could
not help with.  Not unless Juri was willing to open up further about
her past.
        Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan followed too well the animist path of
her people to do any further prying at that particular chink right now;
there came a point when trying to help too much was worse than not
helping at all, and Azalynn knew she couldn't force the issue to that
degree.  There were some things, Azalynn reluctantly admitted, that a
person just had to work out for herself.  Perhaps here, at the
Institute, Juri would finally be able to do that, distanced from the
weirdness and surreality of Ohtori Academy.  And if she couldn't open
up enough to -Azalynn- to be helped, then perhaps there was another...
        Azalynn cleared her throat.  "Look.  Juri?  I'll make you a 
deal."
        The redhead glanced over at the Dantrovian, curious.  "Hm?  
And what might that be?"
        "You're right.  It's not my business to poke into people's 
pasts like that.  Not unless they want me to.  Most people don't mind,
but then again, you're not most people."  She grinned slightly, amused
by Juri's perplexed expression.  "And I respect that.  But it -is-
my business to make sure my friends are happy.  And I think, despite
it all, you feel the same way."
        "Your point being, Azalynn?"
        "My point being," Azalynn explained, "that -I'll- lay off
bugging you about your past, if -you- stop trying to nose in and mess
up Utena and Corwin's friendship.  All right?"
        Juri blinked, once again surprised by the Dantrovian's bald 
proposal.  "So what you're proposing is... a truce?" 
        "Exactly."  Azalynn smiled.  "Anything that brings two people
closer together, whether it's love, or friendship, or even if it's a
good-natured -rivalry-, is a good thing in my book.  If things develop
further with Corwin and Utena, or if they don't, the connections they
already have between themselves and others will stand true.  Their
friendship won't threaten the connections your old crew had within
itself - hell, it might even make them stronger!  Look at Utena and
Saionji.  They used to be -enemies-, and now... "  She shrugged.
"Even -I- can see that you're developing friendships with the gang
here.  Give it a chance, and let things move at their own pace."
        Juri considered Azalynn's words.  Despite the Dantrovian's
bluntness and willingness to stick her nose into (what she felt) was
other people's business, she had a frankness and no-nonsense attitude
towards life that she found quite refreshing and admirable, despite
herself.  Azalynn wasn't as naive as Juri had originally believed, and
while she herself didn't fully believe in what the shorter girl was
expounding, a small part of herself, deep inside, protested against
her deeply-ingrained rationalist beliefs.
        Perhaps a miracle wouldn't occur for her, perhaps they never
could, not the way Juri wanted them to... but at least here, she had a
chance to see for herself and try again.  This was far from Ohtori 
Academy and the machinations of the Deputy Chairman, and the familiar
chains of expectation and duty she had found herself in.  There was no
one for her to be here but whoever she could become.
        And if nothing else, Juri had to admit, Azalynn was certainly
a worthwhile mental opponent.  And that, in its way, was just as
worthy as friendship.
        Azalynn waited for Juri to think things over, and then offered
her hand to the taller woman when the time seemed right.  "So.
Agreed?"
        Juri nodded.  "Agreed."
        The two of them shook hands, slim pink fingers gripping dark
coppery digits, and then they got down to the serious business of
enjoying the provided fajitas.

        The next morning, Juri apologized to Utena at breakfast,
before Corwin arrived.  Actually, it was a mutual apology, with Juri
apologizing for causing the scene in the first place and Utena for
flying off the handle as much as she had.  Devlin Carter proposed a
group hug and was promptly forced to dive out of his chair to avoid
being -knocked- out of it by Amanda.  Some time after that, Corwin
came to collect his dragon and say his goodbyes.  Kaitlyn pinged him
into the dining hall, and, after surveying the offerings in the
kitchens, he decided it was safest to stick with the premade cereals.
        "So," he said as he sat down in the place saved for him at
Utena's side, across from Dorothy.  "How'd the experiment go?"
        "Rather well, I think," Dorothy replied.  "My recollection is
vague, but I believe I experienced a multisensory hallucination during
a trance state.  It was very curious.  I have read that dreams are
memory fragments being sorted for long-term storage."
        "That's one theory," Corwin confirmed, nodding.
        "Then it must not be the correct one," Dorothy said, "because
unless my conscious recall function has been tampered with, you and I
have never - "
        "Well!  Look at the time," Corwin said hurriedly.  "Wish I
could hang around, but I've got to get back, and you guys have stuff
to do anyway."
        " - gone sailing," said Dorothy, undeterred.  Corwin stopped
halfway through getting up, gave her a long look, then cracked up as
she gave him the faintest hint of a mischievous smile.  The laugh
rolled around the table, leading others in the dining hall to glance
Table 11's way with puzzlement on their faces.  A laugh making the
rounds of Table 11 was not at all an uncommon occurrance, but kind of
odd for Finals Monday morning.
        "At any rate," Dorothy went on, "I do feel curiously... 
refreshed, and I know Juri was able to sleep better without me - how
did you put it?  Lurking around."
        Juri looked very faintly embarrassed.  "Yes, thank you," she
said.  "Quite restful."  The redhead seemed very preoccupied this
morning, almost lost in thought.  Corwin wondered what she was
thinking about, then decided it didn't really matter so long as it
kept her from giving him those weird angry looks.  Maybe she really
had just been irritated about Dorothy's odd night habits.
        He took his traditional leave after breakfast, with a promise
to keep in touch by email with his sister and her roommate, the better
to learn how their finals experience was going and solidify the
details of his return during the week when their spring breaks
overlapped.
        When he was gone, the Duelists and their friends finished
their breakfasts, took a deep collective breath, and hurled themselves
into finals week.

        On Wednesday, Utena entered Mini-DAKA to find Saionji seated
behind the register, head on hand, staring into infinity.  So
transfixed by nothingness was he that he failed to notice her, until
she cleared her throat theatrically.
        Shaken from his reverie with a bit of a start, he regarded her
blandly.  "Oh, Tenjou.  Can I help you?"
        "Well, you're a bundle of energy today."
        "I'm bored.  No one has been in for hours.  I've already
restocked all the coolers, the freezer, and the snacks.  I've refilled
the ice dispenser, and cleaned every surface in here.  Twice.  And I
was done with all that over an hour ago.  I've never seen it this
slow."  Perking up a bit he added, "What can I get you?"
        Utena perused the menu for a moment.  "Quick Chick and fries."
        "Right."  Saionji retrieved the bag of fries from the freezer,
shook a healthy serving in the the fry basket, and lowered them into
the hot oil.  Returning the bag to the freezer, he retrieved a frozen
chicken patty and dropped it too into the churning Frialator.
        Both he and Utena spent several moments just staring at the
bubbling oil, transfixed.
        Saionji was the first to pull himself away.  "So.  How's your
week going?"
        "Huh?  Oh, hellish.  I feel like a Quick Chick myself - deep
fried.  But at least I'm finished with that damn Introductory Physics
final.  -Three hours-... "
        "Mm.  You do look somewhat crispy," he replied with a smile.
        "Yep."  They lapsed again into a companionable silence,
staring at the deep fryer.  Neither of them moved, save for the few
times Saionji poked at the patty with tongs to make sure it cooked
evenly.  Eventually he hauled the basket up to drain.
        "What do you want on it?"
        "Oh...  mayo, lettuce, and tomato."
        Saionji handed over a plate with the sandwich dwarfed by a
mound of fries - cooked they way they should be, crisp - and waved
Utena off when she reached for her wallet.
        "Forget it.  They don't pay me enough to care.  You can pay me
by keeping me company for a while."
        "OK," she replied, with a shrug and a smile, before taking a
bite from her sandwich.  "Mmmm.  This is good.  Deep fryers are
wonderful inventions."
        "Indeed - but you can't cook everything in them."
        "Well, hot dogs would work, I think - corn dogs do."
        "Granted, but not much else."
        From around a fry Utena suggested, "Cheese."
        "What?"
        "Cheese, people deep fry cheese."
        Saionji blinked.  "You're right.  I wonder... "  
        He retrieved a slice of the pasteurized processed American
cheese food product that Mini-DAKA used on their sandwiches and
ceremoniously dropped it into the deep fryer.  Then he raised his
eyebrows and said,
        "Whoa."
        "What?"  Utena asked, craning her neck to try to see down into
the fryer from her position in front of the counter.
        "It just -vanished-."
        "What do you mean?"
        "I mean it completely dissolved.  Here, come around and see
for yourself."
        Glancing around and seeing no one, Utena walked around to the
other side of the counter while Saionji retrieved another slice.
        "Now watch closely," he said, dropping it into the oil.  Sure
enough, a split second after hitting the oil it seemed to lose its
consistency.  A second later and it seemed to evaporate before their
eyes.
        Utena blinked.  "That's so weird."
        "I think it's because this isn't really cheese," Saionji
mused, regarding another slice.  "It's mostly made from oil.  I guess
it just kind of... returns to what it once was."  He tossed the third
slice in, and they watched it disintegrate.
        "Hey," Utena said.  "I wonder what -other- stuff does."
        Saionji and Utena exchanged sidelong glances, slow smiles
spreading across their faces.
        "Well," he suggested, "let's find out."
        What followed was an orgy of deep fat frying.  First the other
sandwich toppings: 
        Lettuce: just wilted and turned brown.  Not much fun.
        Tomatoes: shriveled.  Disgusting.
        Mayo, mustard, ketchup, et al.: just dissolved.
        Pickles: no noticeable change.  Got hot and tasted weird.
        Various deli meats: mostly revolting.  Bologna fared the best.
        Breads: soggy.  No one was going to taste that.
        Once they'd exhausted the deli counter they looked around for
their next experimental subjects.
        "Chips!" Utena exclaimed, and bounded around the counter to
retrieve several bags of chips from the rack.  She returned with
samples of several varieties.
        "Tenjou, chips are -already- deep fried," Saionji observed.
        "So let's find out what happens if you -re-fry them."
        Saionji shrugged, took one of the bags, tore it open and
dumped its contents into the fryer.
        Potato chips: well, like always but hot.  It just made them
greasier and maybe a bit soggy, but they still tasted the same.
        Corn chips: not as good.  Hot, oily, and soggy - but the same
taste.
        Cheese curls: icky.  Most of the cheese was removed, and they
partially dissolved.
        The chips were proving disappointing, so Saionji made a new
suggestion.  "Why don't you grab a few of the snacks?"
        "OK."  Utena put the remaining chips away and grabbed an
armload of snacks from the display.  "Let's try the pies first."
        "All right - give me a couple."
        Hostess snack pies: disappointing.  They were hot, but kind
of oily and soggy and tasted a bit odd.
        "Hmph.  I was hoping for something more like the deep-fried
pies back at the Ohtori Commons," Saionji grumbled.  "I miss those."
        "Probably it's because these were already cooked once."
        "Mm.  Oh well.  Might as well try these others."
        Ding Dongs: odd.  The chocolate melted right off, and the
creme filling kind of dissolved, but the cake didn't seen to change
much.
        Twinkies: icky.  Again, the creme filling mostly dissolved,
leaving hot, oily sponge cake.
        The rest of the snacks were just variations on the theme, and
they really only kept at it because finals week was dragging eternally
on, rendering them both punchy enough to find it inordinately
entertaining.  Eventually they were out of things to try.  They
scanned the room fruitlessly, and were starting to lose the buzz when
Utena perked up.  "Ice!"
        "Ice?"
        "Ice.  What happens if you put an ice cube in there?"
        Saionji shrugged.  "Only one way to find out."
        Utena retrieved an ice cube from the soda fountain and plopped
it into the fryer.
        For a split second nothing happened; then the oil erupted into
a mass of bubbles as the ice quickly transformed to liquid and then to
steam.
        "Wow," Saionji observed.
        "Yeah, that's kind of cool.  Want to try some more?"
        "Sure."
        This time Utena filled a small cup full of ice and emptied it
into the fryer.  There was a slightly longer pause than the last time,
followed by a somewhat larger eruption.
        "I've got an idea," Saionji said, with a gleam in his eye.  He
removed one of the baskets from the Frialator and carried it over to
the fountain, where he completely filled it with ice.
        He paused before placing the basket in the oil and looked at
Utena, who grinned and nodded.  Smiling himself, he lowered the basket
into the oil.
        Nothing happened.
        He and Utena exchanged curious looks, then leaned over to look
down into the oil.  They could see the last of the ice melting away
and the odd rippling distortions in the oil caused by the mixing of the
cold water and hot oil.  Other than that, nothing.
        Something was nagging at the back of Utena's mind... something
important... something from physics... 
        Specific heat!
        She shot a look at Saionji and saw that he'd come to a similar
realization - then they ran in opposite directions.
        And not a moment too soon, as the Frialator erupted in a
shower of oil so high that it coated the inside of the vent hood, as
well as the grill, the toaster, the counter, the floor, and everything
else within a several-foot radius of the fryer.
        In the aftermath of the eruption, the relative silence was
deafening.  Utena and Saionji exchanged wide-eyed, stunned looks.  Oil
was dripping from the vent hood onto the counters, and from the
counters onto the floor.  The level of oil in the Frialator was down
at least an inch.
        "Well... " Utena started, then trailed off.
        "Yes, well, I didn't quite expect that."
        "No, I didn't either."
        "Specific heat," Saionji mused.
        "Yep," said Utena.
        "So the ice melted, all that water sank to the bottom, and it
basically flashed to steam all at once."
        "It seems that way," she said, gesturing at the mess.
        Saionji surveyed the damage.  "Good thing we moved."
        "Yeah."
        Long pause.
        "Perhaps you'd be so good as to help me clean this up before I
get fired?" he asked with a grin.
        Utena laughed.  "Sure."
        Saionji passed Utena a handful of rags, then grabbed the jug
of fry oil to bring the Frialator back to the correct level.  That
accomplished he joined Utena on rag duty.  It was almost impossible to
soak up the oil completely, so they ended up basically oil-polishing
everything.  The metal countertop gleamed like it had been waxed and
buffed.  It took thirty minutes of frantic effort, and a mound of
rags, but they managed to remove all of the obvious traces of their
deed.
        The frantic pace of the cleanup effort drained away what
little remained of the manic energy that had come upon them during the
experiment.  Once finished with it, they slumped to the floor, side by
side with their backs against the front of the counter, elbows on
knees, exhausted.
        "That," said Saionji, " was -incredibly- dumb.  I cannot
-believe- we did that."
        "-I- can," Utena replied.  "I've gotten four hours of sleep
so far this week."
        "There is that," Saionji admitted.  They sat for a few moments
more, gathering enough energy to return to their lives.  Saionji knew
he shouldn't be sitting here; if his manager came in, he'd catch hell
for it - but he just couldn't muster enough strength to stand.
Finally, Utena hauled herself to her feet, then reached down a hand to
help him up, observing,
        "Blah.  Like it or not, I need to get back to studying."
        "Mm," said Saionji, nodding.  "And I've still got an hour here
before my Outer Rim Lit final."
        "Well... good luck," said Utena.
        "You too.  Oh, Tenjou?"
        "Yes?"
        "Next time I'm about to do something that stupid - stop me."
        "But it seemed like a good idea at the time," Utena protested
with a laugh.
        "Yeah, I guess it did at that."  Saionji chuckled at the
memory.
        Just then his manager entered Mini-DAKA via the back door to
see how things were going.  She quickly scanned the coolers, snacks,
chips - and finally the cooking area.
        "Well, very nice.  You've really cleaned things up.  Keep up
the good work."
        Saionji twitched, fighting to keep a straight face.  "Sure, no
problem."
        He and Utena barely managed to wait until the manager was out
of earshot before dissolving into gales of laughter.

        C term ended for the officers of the Institute Duelists'
Society at 3:30 on Friday afternoon, with the close of the Galactic
History 203 final exam.  Wearily, Utena, Kate, Saionji and Miki
dragged themselves into the Wedge and slumped down in the Big Booth
next to Mini-DAKA's entrance, where the others had already gathered.
Without exception, they were all too tired to do anything but sit
there in a sprawled group, occasionally moaning.  Only Dorothy
Wayneright seemed not to have been enervated by the week's
experiences, and she wasn't completely untouched by the pressure
herself; she was just better at concealing it.
        "I think I totally blew question 3," Utena observed after a
few moments.
        "Which one was that?" Miki wondered.
        "'Which founding member of the Wedge Defense Force was the
captain of the Gravityball team which won the Galactic Cup in 2104?'"
        "Th-that was m-m-my MOM!" Kaitlyn exclaimed.
        "Morgan's M-Deck Marauders won the Galactic Cup twenty-one
times between 2020 and 2208," Dorothy said (a hint of weariness
creeping into her recitation), "before the International Gravityball
Federation declared Detianism an illegal performance-enhancing
condition and barred seven members of the team, including its captain,
from competition."
        Kate nodded.  "M-mom's -still- a bit p-p-pissed ab-bout that."
        "Oh," said Utena.  "Well, whaddaya know.  I guess I did get it
right."
        "We should celebrate," said Azalynn listlessly; Finals Week
had sapped even -her- famous energy.
        "Yaaaaaaaay," replied Amanda Dessler with a desultory twirl of
one index finger in the air.  "There.  Satisfied?"
        "No," Azalynn replied with a tired pout.  "By 'celebrate' I
meant 'eat'."
        "I'm for -that-," Moose rumbled.  "But DAKA doesn't serve for
another two hours, and I don't wanna get up."
        "We could order pizza," Devlin suggested.  He mimed the use of
a telephone and said, "Hullo!  Hullo, Bill?  Finals are over, what?
Send sustenance to the Place of Rest, and be quick about it, my good
man!  Our lives are in your hands!"
        That got a chuckle out of the group, and then they lapsed back
into inactivity again.

        Not much celebrating got done that night; everyone was just
too tired.  They did finally get a bit of a second wind, enough to
order pizza, then retired to their rooms to talk, read, and generally
unwind from the wringer of final exams.  Some places on campus were
rocked by parties, but for the Duelists and their friends, bedtime
came early.  Kaitlyn had cause to be very happy that Janice Barlow ran
a quiet floor.

        Saturday was bright, clear and unseasonably warm; it looked
like winter's promise of abating early was coming true.  The snow was
already almost gone, lingering only in the dark, rock-speckled clumps
pushed into the deepest corners of parking lots and street corners by
the snowplows.  Kate rose at eleven feeling refreshed and energized.
She and Utena went down to the bathroom together and talked through
the curtains of their adjacent shower stalls about the possibilities
of their semi-planned trip to Toronto.
        "You sure you're up to a trip that long?" Utena wondered.
"You haven't had much practice - haven't had -any- in the -real-
world."
        "Sure, n-no p-p-problem," Kate replied.  "I've had s-SOME
p-practice," she added indignantly.  "I l-learned to d-d-drive in
N-New Avalon l-last summer, I j-just t-tested in v-VR.  The only
t-tricky p-part will be g-g-getting through N-Niagara.  It'll be
y-YOUR j-j-job to k-keep us from g-getting lost."
        "Oh, I -see-," said Utena, amused.  "Think we should take
anyone else with us?  If anybody else is even around... "
        "W-well, I'l p-pretty much -have- to t-take D-Dorothy, unless
I g-get Corwin to as-s-sign someb-body else as her g-guardian while
I'm o-out of t-t-town," said Kate.  She paused to soap and rinse her
face, then went on, "B-besides, it'll d-do her g-g-good to see m-more
of the w-w-world."
        "Mm," Utena replied.  "As for the others, I guess we can
ask... figure we could get maybe one more into your average rental
car.  First come, first served?"
        "W-works for m-me," Kate replied.
        They talked it over for the rest of their time in the shower,
then returned to their room with a slightly better-realized but still
rather free-form plan.  Basically, it involved finding a way to the
airport (if nothing else offered, it was a nice enough day to walk),
renting a car (ordinarily a challenge for someone Kate's age, but with
her connections, she thought she could swing it), and then... well,
then driving to Toronto.
        While Utena packed their clothes, Kate went online and rustled
up a reservation at one of the mid-range hotels downtown, making sure
to get a room on a nice high floor.  A bit of lunch, a quick sweep of
the group for a fourth, and they would be off.

        In front of Sanford Riley Hall, Amanda Dessler slung her field
pack over the rear fender of her motorcycle, secured it, and picked up
her helmet, then turned to Devlin Carter.
        "Well, Earthman... " she began; then she trailed off and stood
there looking at him for a moment.
        "What?" he replied, looking slightly nervous.
        "Come with me," said Amanda suddenly.
        "What?!" Devlin repeated, more forcefully this time.
        "Come with me," said Amanda again.  "You've nowhere else to
go, correct?  No family gathering, no mysterious errands to the far
corners of this miserable planet.  Come with me to Gamilon.  I... "
She paused, a faint pink blush appearing below the pale blue of her
cheeks.  "I wish to introduce you to my father," she went on, "and my
brother."
        "Your brother," Devlin said skeptically.  "Oh yes, I'm sure
he'd be -thrilled- to make -my- acquaintance."
        Amanda rolled her eyes slightly.  "Garon will like you," she
insisted, "and Father... well, Father will accept you, which is about
as well as an Earthman can do with him.  You've nothing to worry
about."
        "Er... well, look, Amanda, that's nice an' all, what?  But I
really don't know that... "
        "Devlin," she said, her voice serious.  "Please."
        He trailed off, looked back at her with equal frankness in his
own eyes, and then cracked a wry smile.
        "Well," he said, "when you put it -that- way... "

        From the window of Riley 212, Azalynn watched Devlin climb
onto the back of Amanda's motorcycle behind her, grip her around the
waist, and hold on as she fired up the machine and they roared off
around the side of the dorm and out of sight.  She smiled and giggled
slightly.
        "What?" asked Miki Kaoru sleepily from her bed.
        "Nothing much," she replied.  "Just another step taken on
someone else's road."  At his continued quizzical look, she
elaborated, "Amanda just took Devlin with her."
        "Oh," Miki replied with a drowsy smile.  "Good."

        Utena went into Mini-DAKA to find Saionji just finishing up
his shift, but he was gracious enough to stick around and, further,
make an exception to the "no breakfast foods after 11 AM" rule for
her.
        "Your usual?" he inquired as she entered.
        "If it's really not too late," she replied.
        Saionji smiled slightly.  "One Absolute Breakfast Apocalypse
and toast," he said, and turned to the grill, leaving her to give him
a weird look in momentary silence.
        "So, Tenjou," he said conversationally as he put the sausage
patty and Canadian bacon slices onto the grill.  "What are you and
your partner in crime up to now that we've some time off?"
        "Kate wants to break in her new driver's license," Utena told
him, "so we're going to Toronto."
        Saionji finished cracking the eggs, then turned, cocking an
eyebrow.  "I've heard of this 'Toronto' place before," he said.  "You
and the others went there last fall.  I'm told you had quite a time.
I don't suppose - no, never mind.  You wouldn't want me tagging
along."
        Utena looked thoughtful.  "Hmm... well, I dunno that it'd be
-that- bad," she said with exaggerated consideration.  "As long as you
behaved yourself," she added.  "I'd have to ask Kate, though.  It's
her trip."
        Saionji shook his head.  "No, really.  I spoke before I
thought.  It was rude of me to invite myself like that."
        "Saionji," said Utena dangerously, putting her hands on her
hips, "do me a favor and don't turn passive-aggressive.  That kind of
thing -really- drives me crazy."
        Saionji looked back at her over his shoulder and said
seriously, "Sorry."
        "Do you actually want to go?" Utena pressed.
        "Well... yes," said Saionji.  "It sounds interesting.  Today's
my last day of work before classes start again, and I'd like to see
more of this world... "  He shrugged, smiling sardonically, and went
wryly on, "And I don't find your company as tiresome as I once did."
        Utena chuckled.  "That makes two of us," she replied, then
shook her head in wonder.
        "Quite surreal," Saionji agreed.
        "I'll ask Kate," said Utena as she paid for and accepted her
breakfast, "but no promises."
        He nodded.  "I understand.  And thank you."
        Utena carried her tray out to Wedge Booth #1, sat down, and
waited for Kate to come back from wherever she'd wandered off to.  She
returned from around the corner, where she'd used one of the pair of
terminals installed in a little glassed-in closet by the Institute
Road entrance to check her mail and reconfirm their motel
reservations, waved, and went into Mini-DAKA to get her own lunch.
        When she returned, bearing a tray with a Tech Burger, fries
and a Coke, Utena asked her, "Did he ask you?"
        "Ask me w-what?" Kate replied, seating herself.
        "Guess not," Utena replied.  She took a drink of her own Coke
and then said, "Saionji wants to go to Toronto.  I told him it was up
to you."
        "Oh."  Kate had a fry and considered this.  "Y-you don't
m-mind?"
        "Nah," said Utena.  "He's really changed.  I actually - how
weird does it feel to say THIS? - like the guy now.  But I didn't know
how you'd feel about it."
        Kate thought it over for a moment, then smiled.  "F-fine with
m-m-me," she said.  "If he g-gets out of l-line, w-we c-can have
D-Dorothy b-break his arm."
        "Say, that's a thought," Utena mused.  She polished off the
last of her omelet and asked, "Have you -found- Dorothy yet?"
        "I wasn't aware," said R. Dorothy calmly, "that I was
missing."
        "Ah, th-there you are," Kate said.  "H-how'd you like to g-go
to T-Toronto with us?"
        "All right," Dorothy replied.  "What will we do there?"
        "Well... " said Utena, scratching at the back of her neck.
"We, uh, sort of figured we'd sort that out when we get there.  You
know - play it by ear."
        "Ah," said Dorothy, nodding.  "Improvisation does seem to be
your strong suit," she went on, deadpan.
        "Um... thanks," said Utena, grinning sheepishly.
        Saionji's relief arrived at noon, just as Kaitlyn was
finishing her lunch; a few moments later, the tall, green-haired young
man emerged from Mini-DAKA, his apron slung over his shoulder.  He saw
them sitting together in the booth and headed toward it, smiling the
smile of a man who has just been released from an unpleasant duty for
two weeks.
        "OK, Saionji, you can come along," Utena told him as if
granting a sizeable favor.  "But behave yourself or Dorothy will have
to hurt you."  Dorothy gave her a curious look, but said nothing.
        He squared himself, bowed, and said with an almost ponderous
mock-seriousness, "I shall be the soul of discretion."
        "Where are you going?" Utena asked Kate as the brown-haired
girl got to her feet and made to leave the booth.
        "W-we'll need an-nother room," she replied; then she smiled
slightly at Saionji and added, "I-I'm a t-t-trusting s-soul, b-b-but
th-there're l-l-limits."
        "Er - indeed," said Saionji, going ever so faintly pink, as
Kate went past him and around the corner to use one of the Wedge
gweepery terminals again.
        "Better go get your stuff," said Utena.  "We're leaving as
soon as we get everything lined up."
        "So soon?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.  Then he
shrugged and answered his own question with another, "Why wait?  All
right... I'll be back here in a few minutes."
        "I should prepare as well," said Dorothy as Saionji went.
"We'll be gone for a week?"
        "Maybe eight days," Utena replied, nodding.
        "I won't need my maintenance bay, then," Dorothy said.  "I'll
just pack the emergency kit and a few other things."
        As Dorothy left the Wedge, Utena got up, put her tray and
Kate's on top of one of the trash containers, then went and stood
looking out of the front windows of the Wedge, across the Quad.  While
she stood there looking, an unfamiliar car entered the Quad ring road
between Daniels and Riley Halls, rounded the Quad past Alumni Gym and
Harrington Auditorium, and pulled into a parking space in front of the
Wedge.  It was a type Utena hadn't seen before, long, sleek and
square.  It looked vaguely similar to Corwin Ravenhair's car, but
slightly smaller (then again, she'd never seen a car -bigger- than
Corwin's antique Griffon limousine) and with cleaner, plainer lines
and no fins.
        It was a beautiful glossy black, with a lot of brightly
polished chrome - bumpers, forward-leaning grille, bezels around its
four circular headlights and six little round taillights, little
three-bladed spinners on the wheel covers, and a pointed chrome stripe
running from stem to stern along a line with the gleaming thumb-button
door handles.  The windshield was wide and curved, rimmed entirely in
chrome, but the back window was tiny.  Utena realized as the car
pulled into the parking space that this was because it was a
convertible.  And, she noticed with a curious "hmm," it had New
Avalon license plates.
        A moment later, the door opened and Corwin Ravenhair got out.
        "Hey!" said Utena, and she went out through the airlock,
jumped down the short stairs to the sidewalk, and trotted across the
street to meet him.  "What are you doing here?" she asked.  "Not that
I mind.  New car?"
        "Sort of," said Corwin as he willingly absorbed the impact of
her welcoming hug.
        "It's a surprise," Nall added from his shoulder, then bent his
head to receive the skritching that was his due.
        "You like it?" Corwin inquired.
        "It's beautiful," Utena replied as she disengaged from both of
them to a conversational distance.  "What is it?"
        "You'll find out in a minute," he said with an it's-a-secret
grin.  "Kate around?"
        "Sure, she's inside."  As they went inside, Utena told him
about their semi-planned Toronto trip, and for some reason, the news
made his grin get even wider.  A moment later, Kate came around the
corner from the gweepery, saw Corwin and paused, smiling.  Corwin
plunged his hand into his pants pocket, removed it again, and said,
        "Hey Kate - think fast!"
        There was a shimmery jingling noise as a small bundle of
metallic objects arced between the two siblings; then Kate snapped up
her hand and caught it almost unconsciously.  She glanced quizzically
at it, then up to Corwin, and he smiled even -wider-, went to her
side, and squired her out to the Quad.
        "Kaitlyn," he said, indicating the black and red car with a
sweep of his hand, "from Dad, Mom, me, -your- mom, and all the gang
back home: happy birthday."
        "A little early," Nall added.  Utena understood what he meant
by that; Kaitlyn's birthday was a bit less than three weeks away, but
that was during the first week of D term.  Apparently her father had
thought - and rightly so, in Utena's opinion! - that it would be a
shame to wait for the correct date and deny her the opportunity to use
her gift during Spring Break in the process.  A father who balanced
the sentimental against the practical with such skill was a man to be
cherished, she thought, a smile crossing her face as she remembered
the birthday party Kate's dad had thrown for -her-, back in December
when she'd turned 15.
        Kate looked at Corwin with an expression of disbelief, then
slowly walked around the car, taking it in from all angles.
        "Th-this is r-real," she finally said to her brother, looking
a trifle skeptical.  "N-not an inf-flatable m-m-mockup or s-something."
        Corwin looked hurt.  "Would we toy with your emotions that
way?"
        "Dad might," Nall said.  "He has weird ideas about gift-giving
sometimes."
        "Well, yeah, OK," Corwin acknowledged, "but Mom and Kei would
never have stood for it."  He slapped a palm down on the hood of the
car, producing a most satisfactory thump.  "It's real, all right."
        Kate took the keys out of her pocket and pressed the green
button on the little remote control that accompanied them.  With a
quiet blip of the horn, the car's two doors unlocked.  She opened the
driver's door, slid behind the wheel, and sat, examining the
deceptively simple-looking retro controls.  There was an envelope
taped to one of the radio knobs.  She peeled it off and opened it,
took out a gaily colored holiday card, then made a small, startled
noise as something smaller inside it fell into her lap when she opened
it.
        Utena leaned down in the driver's open door, interested;
Corwin waited for Nall's inevitable desertion, then came around to the
passenger side and leaned down to look in from the other side,
grinning broadly.  The car's interior was done up in chrome and
blood-red metal and leather, and the air was perfumed with the very
distinctive scent of a classic automobile.
        "What's in the card?" Utena asked.
        "P-parking perm-mit f-from school," Kate replied, holding it
up.  "I g-guess it's m-more of Miss M-M-Montaigne's w-way of
apologizing for the r-room situation."  She grinned.  "N-not that I
n-n-need an ap-pology, but I'll t-t-take it."  Utena grinned in
return.
        Kate adjusted her seat a little, settled back with her hands
on the wheel, and smiled.  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath
through her nose, let it out again, and then opened her eyes and
beamed at her brother.
        She got out of the car, closed the door behind her, and went
around the back, admiring the clean chrome script of the namebadge
("Impala SS") and the neat lines of the rear quarter as she did so.
Corwin straightened and turned as she came to his arms.
        Kate rounded the rear of the car, took two bounding steps and
threw her arms around Corwin, hugging him tightly.  He smiled and gave
it back, and when she let him loose and stepped back, she had tears on
her face and couldn't frame her thanks intelligibly.
        "'sOK," said Corwin, grinning and drawing her back in.  "I
know what you're trying to say.  Happy birthday, Kate."
        They separated at length, a little sniffly but smiling, and
Corwin said, "So I hear you've already got a road trip planned."
        "Heh, y-yeah," said Kate, wiping at her eyes.  "W-we're going
b-back to T-Toronto for the w-week."
        "Toronto?  For a week?  -Sweet-!" Nall declared.  "Hey,
Corwin, can you get along without me for a week?"
        Corwin shot the dragon a look.  "Kidding!  Kidding!" Nall
insisted.  "I've got classes too, y'know," he added.
        "You go to classes?" Utena asked him, surprised.
        "Sure," Nall told her.  "A dragon's got to learn -somehow-,"
he went on, "and it beats the schools in Alfheim, believe me."
        She might have asked him to elaborate on that a little, but
Corwin was asking, "So when are you leaving?"
        "Soon as we can pull everything together," Utena replied.
"Good thing you caught us when you did - another few minutes and we'd
have been trying to figure out a way up to the airport to rent a car."
        "Well," said Corwin, patting the Impala's fender, "you don't
have to worry about -that- anymore."
        "N-no, I g-guess not," said Kate, smiling.
        "Hey, Corwin!" came a familiar voice.  The foursome turned to
see Azalynn trotting toward them, with Miki Kaoru following behind at
a more sedate pace.  Miki still looked about half asleep, his hair
mussed and the half or so of his uniform that he was actually wearing
rumpled.  Utena was a bit tickled by this sight - she couldn't
remember ever having seen Miki disheveled before.  She resisted an
urge to go nudge him with her elbow and look sly at him.
        Azalynn and Miki duly admired Kate's new car, and Corwin
finally mentioned what it -was-: a 1962 Chevrolet Impala Super Sport.
The name didn't mean much to Utena, but the year stuck in her mind;
for the next few moments, she attempted, without much success, to get
her head around the idea that the automobile she was leaning against
had been manufactured four hundred twenty-seven years before her
birth.  That was older than the school, older than the (reconstituted)
city of Worcester.
        "Most of it's not authentic anymore, you understand," Corwin
added with a slightly apologetic tone.  "There wasn't much left when
we found it, so we restored for durability and utility rather than
authenticity.  Everything's built to the Experts spec for a Type 1
field agent vehicle."  He rapped on the hood with his knuckles.
"Composite reinforced body panels with pyroclastic lamination; Class B
klaster windows; climate management field... "
        Kate and Corwin ranged around the car, talking in animated
tones about various technical aspects of its construction that made no
sense to the other three, who tuned it out.
        "Where was Kyouichi headed in such a hurry?" Azalynn
wondered.  Utena had to stop and think for a second before she
realized the Dantrovian was talking about Saionji.  Azalynn was the
only one who ever called him by his first name.
        "Getting his stuff," Utena replied.  "Kate decided he could
come to Toronto with us if he promised to be a good boy."
        Azalynn was momentarily distracted by the click and whir of
the Impala's top starting to retract; then she said, "Well, that's
nice.  It'll be good for him to get away for a while and have some
fun."  She nudged Miki with her elbow.  "You should go too," she said.
        He finished knotting his tie, then turned to her, blinking.
"But what about - "
        "Exactly why I think you ought to go," Azalynn replied with a
grin.  "It's a time for thinking of oneself.  Step back and
contemplate.  Seek new experiences.  Just be careful," she went on,
leaning over in a comically public aside.  "The Canadians are awfully
touchy about that kind of stuff."
        He reddened slightly.  Utena snickered, which got a look from
him that made her almost break outright.  "Well, all right," said
Miki, "if Utena and Kaitlyn don't mind... "
        Utena grinned, turned, and called, "Hey Kate!"
        Kaitlyn's head emerged from behind the car's upraised hood.
"Mm?"
        "Can the Boy Genius come with?  Azalynn wants him out of her
hair for a few days."
        "That's not - " Azalynn started, but Utena gave her a wink and
she cut off the protest with a smile.
        "W-well," said Kate, "I d-don't see w-why not.  How f-fast can
you p-pack for a w-w-week?"
        Miki smiled, triggered his stopwatch, turned, and dashed off
toward Galaxy House.  Azalynn watched him go with a satisfied
expression, then turned to Utena and grinned.
        "He's so spontaneous," she said, and Utena gave up and broke.

        Fifteen minutes later, the travelers were gathered in the
Wedge, double-checking their belongings and their travel plan, such as
it was.  Appreciative noises were made over Kaitlyn's new (old) car,
and those embarking on the adventure were suitably envied.  Presently,
the five intrepid voyagers loaded their cargo.
        "D-do you n-need a r-ride to the s-spacep-port?" Kate asked
Corwin as the others arranged themselves for the trip.
        "Sure, if it's not too much trouble.  Otherwise I can walk,
it's a nice day."
        "M-make you w-w-walk after you b-brought me this?" Kate asked,
indicating the Impala with a sweep of her arm.  "D-don't be
st-stupid.  Hey, Utena, b-budge up," she went on.  Utena obligingly
slid over a bit, toward the middle of the front bench seat.  She
couldn't get all the way into the center without blocking the
gearshift lever, but between the two of them, she and Corwin figured
out an arrangement that was comfortable enough and still allowed
Kaitlyn to drive.
        "Have a good trip!" Mia Ausa called as Kate backed the Impala
out of its parking space.
        "And a safe flight home, Corwin!" Azalynn added.  Corwin
turned to wave, and as he did so, he caught sight of Juri Arisugawa,
standing back near the steps down from the Wedge, where she'd taken
her leave of her old schoolmates and Dorothy a few moments earlier.
She was giving him the -oddest- look.  Not a glare like the ones he'd
caught her tossing his way over the course of the previous weekend;
rather, a very strange expression, hard to read.  He finally decided
that it was, improbable as it seemed, a combination of annoyance,
wistfulness and... what?  Hope, maybe?
        It was weird, anyway, and so unexpected under the
circumstances that he faltered briefly in his calls of farewell.
        "What's the matter?" Utena inquired.
        "Nothing," he replied, shaking his head.  He could see from
Nall's expression that he knew better, but the dragon kept silent.

        As the remaining Duelists stood and watched their officers
roar off into the sunset, Mia turned to Azalynn and said quietly, so
the others wouldn't hear as they dispersed, "Jy'han Nakhayyar is
Tuesday, isn't it?"
        Azalynn looked briefly startled, then recovered and replied,
"Uh... yes.  Why do you ask?"
        "I... well... "  Mia looked slightly embarrassed.  "I've read
a good deal about Dantrovian animism," she finally said, "but never
met anyone who practiced it before.  I remember reading that Jy'han
Nakhayyar was a day dedicated to a search for identity."  She looked
slightly more self-conscious still as she went on, "I think... I could
probably find some benefit in something like that, right about now."
        Azalynn gave her a thoughtful look.  "Hmmmm... " she mused.
Then, brightening, she said, "Well, why don't we go someplace quiet
and talk about it?"

        Juri Arisugawa sat on the short concrete wall next to the
stairs down from the Wedge to the sidewalk and watched the two of them
walk across the Quad.  She seemed lost in thought, frowning absently
into the middle distance, when T'skaia emerged from the Wedge,
descended the steps, and paused, noting her.
        "Good day to you, Miss Arisugawa," he remarked, causing her to
jolt slightly as she came back to herself.  Diplomatically, he ignored
it and went on, "You seem to be at a bit of a loose end.  Can I offer
you some opposition?  I know when I get into such a mood, I always
feel better with steel to cross."
        Juri scanned the t'skrang's pteranodon face for a moment, then
nodded.
        "I think I'd like that," she said, and she jumped down from
the wall to accompany Sky to Alden Hall.

        Corwin Ravenhair guided Daggerdisc away from Earth, watching
it shrink in the rearview display, then called for metaspace
clearance.
        "Roger, ZCNA-1138," came the voice of Earthforce Jumpgate
Control.  "You are cleared on Gate 11.  Clear skies.  Earthforce out."
        Ahead of him, the staging flashes marched down the four sides
of the jumpgate, then collided in the center, and the rippling
distortion disc of the jump point itself spiraled out of the
nothingness into existence.  Corwin guided Daggerdisc into the lane,
locked her navigational receiver onto the Zeta Cygni beacon signal,
and punched the throttles open.  The gate surged, the point collapsed
behind him, and he was surrounded by the brooding scarlet maelstrom of
metaspace.
        Corwin leaned back in his seat, took off his commset earpiece,
and sighed deeply.
        "You know, Nall," he said, "I don't think I get that redhead
at all."
        "Yeah," said Nall, by which he meant "No, me neither."
        "Oh, well," he said, getting up from his seat.  "At least she
isn't glaring at me anymore.  Still - what the hell was that about?"
        "Search me," said Nall.  "We got any of that tuna fish left?"

           /*  Ozzy Osbourne  "Crazy Train"  _Tribute_  */

Crazy                                   Eyrie Productions, Unlimited
But that's how it goes                  presented
Millions of people                      UNDOCUMENTED FEATURES
Living as foes                          FUTURE IMPERFECT
Maybe, yeah yeah                        - Symphony of the Sword -
It's not too late                       Entr'acte:
To learn how to love                    A Question of Faith
And forget how to hate
                                        The Cast
Mental wounds not healing               (in order of appearance)
Driving me insane                       Miki Kaoru
I'm going off the rails                 Azalynn dv'Ir Natashkan
  on a crazy train                      Kaitlyn Hutchins
I'm going off the rails                 Utena Tenjou
  on a crazy train                      Nall Silverclaw
                                        Corwin Ravenhair
I've listened to preachers              Mia Ausa
I've listened to fools                  Devlin Carter
I've watched all the dropouts           The Hon. J. Maurice MacEchearn
Who make their own rules                R. Dorothy Wayneright
One person conditioned                  Amanda Elektra Dessler
To rule and control                     T'skaia Vorokoshiga'ar
The media sells it                        Ixtixtaaqitl't'chl'Vraihelt Ishkarat
And you live the role                   Kyouichi Saionji
                                        Juri Arisugawa
Mental wounds not healing               Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV
Who and what's to blame?                Ein
I'm going off the rails                 G'Kron
  on a crazy train                      Harcourt M. McKenzie
I'm going off the rails                 Tiny Robo
  on a crazy train                      Lesser Mazinger
                                        Janice Barlow
I know that things are going
  wrong for me				Mr. Director
You've got to listen to my words        Benjamin D. Hutchins

Heirs of a cold war                     Fight Choreographer
That's what we've become                Anne Cross
Inheriting troubles
I'm mentally numb                       Narn Theology Consultant
Crazy                                   Kris Overstreet
But what do I care?
I'm living with something               Resident Juriologist
I don't want to share                   Philip J. Moyer

Mental wounds not healing               Frialator Technician
Driving me insane                       MegaZone
I'm going off the rails
  on a crazy train                      Truss
I'm going off the rails                 John Trussell
  on a crazy train

                           Vlad the Impala:
       http://www.eyrie-productions.com/UF/FI/SOS/GFX/vlad.jpg

                       The Symphony will return